#i wanted to give more screen time to everyone

[deliciousangelfestival]

Change of Heart - 2 | Bucky

Character: Bucky x Female! Reader

Theme: Angst, tragedy, romance.

Summary: The interviewer asked her a provocative question:

“If you were offered a million dollars, would you leave your partner?”

Without hesitation, she replied with a smirk, “Give me one dollar, and I’ll leave him this second.”

True to her word, she walked away, leaving the man stunned and searching for answers. Now, he’s desperately trying to find her, grappling with the haunting question—why would she leave him so easily?

And is there more to her departure than a single dollar could ever explain?

Part 1 , Part 2 , Part 3 ,-

Main Masterlist || If you enjoy my work, please consider buying me a coffee on Ko-fi 🙏🏻

By the way, I publish my book Arrogant Ex-Husband and Dad, I Can't Let You Go by Alina C. Bing on Kindle.

Thank you to everyone who has read this chapter. Leave a comment and Reblog, please. I'd love to hear your thoughts. ❤️

“Fine,” he sighed, rubbing the back of his neck in frustration. He knew there was no point in pushing further. Grace was like a fortress, guarding whatever secrets you had entrusted her with. Talking to her felt futile, like arguing with a wall that refused to crack.

“I won’t press you for more answers,” he said, his voice softening, though the tension lingered in his tone. “At least tell me this—is she in trouble? Is someone trying to hurt her or threaten her?” His jaw tightened as he spoke, his concern leaking through despite his best effort to remain composed.

Grace hesitated before answering. “No,” she replied firmly, her gaze unwavering.

A part of Bucky felt a wave of relief at her reassurance. If Grace said you weren’t in danger, then maybe you were safe. But another part of him sank deeper into confusion and sadness. For two years, you had been his constant, his safe harbor.

You weren’t just his wife on paper; you had been someone he could rely on, someone who listened to him without judgment. Now, the thought that you might be facing something he had overlooked made him feel hollow.

Had he missed something? Overlooked a sign? The thought gnawed at him as he stood there in silence. You had always been a good listener, absorbing his worries and frustrations like a sponge. Better than any therapist he’d ever paid for. In fact, since marrying you, he had stopped going to therapy altogether.

But then it hit him. You’d rarely opened up about your own life. He couldn’t even recall the last time you shared anything personal. Was that his failure? Not listening to you when you needed him most? His chest tightened with guilt as he realized that the contract, which was supposed to ensure mutual understanding, might have become a barrier instead of a bridge.

Before he could say anything else, his phone buzzed, breaking his train of thought. He glanced at the screen and saw the agency’s number.

“Mr. Barnes, it’s about the arrangement,” the voice on the other end said.

“What is it?” His tone was curt, impatient.

“Your wife has decided not to renew the contract.”

He gritted his teeth. “I know that already.”

“Yes, sir,” the voice continued, cautiously. “But she also returned the money you gave her.”

Bucky froze, his grip on the phone tightening. “What?”

“She left it with us. I’m sorry for the way this unfolded, Mr. Barnes. If you have time, we’d like to meet and discuss this in person.”

He clenched his jaw. “I’ll think about it.”

“Understood. One more thing—Miss L/N left a message. She wanted you to know that she’s sorry.”

Bucky ended the call without a word. His mind was racing, a cacophony of thoughts and emotions he couldn’t untangle.

As he turned to leave, Grace finally broke her silence. “She told me to tell you not to look for her,” she said, her voice low but resolute.

Her words landed like a punch to his gut. He turned back to face her, his expression a mixture of disbelief and sorrow. His fists clenched at his sides, and for a moment, he didn’t say anything.

“Don’t look for her,” Grace repeated, softer this time, as if trying to ease the blow.

Bucky’s lips parted, but no words came out. He swallowed hard, his throat tight. Without another word, he turned and walked away, her parting message crushing him with every step.

🌸🌸🌸🌸

The matchmaking agency didn’t have an official name. To the outside world, it appeared to be an upscale wedding organizer. But beneath the surface, it operated a discreet business, catering to an elite clientele. The agency specialized in PR, celebrity pairings, and finding partners for those seeking unconventional marriages.

To join this matchmaking service, clients paid exorbitant fees, a cost justified by the agency’s ironclad guarantee of success and confidentiality. This exclusivity made it accessible only to the wealthiest 1%. For most clients, love wasn’t a priority. Many were too jaded, too broken, or simply unwilling to risk their hearts again, yet they craved the semblance of companionship.

Companionship didn’t necessarily mean intimacy. Some sought emotional connections without physical ties, while others wanted a blend of friendship and trust. In essence, the agency sold what its clients desired most: a reliable partner tailored to their needs.

That’s where Bucky came in. He wasn’t looking for love. He needed someone he could trust, someone who fit seamlessly into his life. You had checked every box. You charmed his parents and, more importantly, his grandfather—a critical seal of approval.

Now, Bucky sat in the CEO’s office of the agency, his jaw set and his posture rigid. The room was sleek and modern, dominated by a white sofa where both of them sat. He accepted the black tea she offered but barely touched it.

The CEO, a sharp-eyed woman in her late forties, sat across from him, her demeanor professional but empathetic. She had started this agency after her own marriage fell apart. Betrayed by her husband’s infidelity and weary of meaningless dates, she realized she wasn’t alone. Many shared her frustration with traditional relationships. That realization had birthed her unique matchmaking business.

She leaned forward slightly, her expression neutral but observant. “Thank you for making time to meet with me, Mr. Barnes,” she began.

Bucky’s voice was clipped. “Do you know what she did?”

“Yes,” the CEO replied calmly. “She came here yesterday and asked me to give you these.” She placed two envelopes on the table between them.

“This one contains the check for the money she received. She’s returning it to you. The other is a letter she wanted you to have.”

Bucky’s gaze dropped to the envelopes. They were unassuming, just thin paper, yet they felt heavier than the multimillion-dollar contracts he signed daily. He hesitated, his fingers brushing over the edges. Despite his composed exterior, uncertainty gnawed at him.

“Would you like me to open them for you?” the CEO asked gently.

“No, thank you.” His voice was firm, though his hand trembled slightly as he picked up the envelopes.

Slowly, he opened the first one. Inside was a check for the exact amount you’d received when signing the contract—$2 million for two years.

His chest tightened. So that damn $1 was enough to make you leave? Why?

Didn’t you say the money was meant to help you break free from your parents’ control? You wanted to save it to open a café, to buy a boat, to carve out a life of your own.

With a deep breath, he opened the second envelope. This was the one you had specifically instructed to be given to him. He unfolded the paper, hoping for answers, for clarity.

Instead, there was only one sentence:

“It’s not you. It’s me.”

Bucky scoffed, a bitter laugh escaping his lips. His grip on the paper tightened as his jaw clenched. What kind of joke is this? Of all people, he never thought he’d be the one on the receiving end of such a cliché. And didn’t everyone know? The person who said those words was usually the one placing blame.

So it is me. I’m the reason you left.

He pressed a hand to his forehead, closing his eyes as the weight of realization settled over him. He thought back to the countless times you’d listened to him, your quiet understanding, your patience. Had he ever done the same for you? Had he missed the signs that you were unhappy?

He cleared his throat, breaking the silence. “Did you see her face yesterday?” he asked, his voice low but steady.

“Yes,” the CEO replied, her expression unreadable.

“What did you see? Was she sad? Angry? Happy?”

The CEO took a moment before answering. “I sensed relief when she handed me the check.”

Bucky’s shoulders tensed, his chest constricting at her words. Relief? Was that all you felt after two years together?

“But,” she continued, her voice softening, “when she gave me the letter for you, I saw regret in her eyes.”

Bucky froze, those five words—I saw regret in her eyes—hitting him like a punch to the gut. He swallowed hard, his gaze dropping to the letter still clutched in his hand.

If you regretted it, why did you leave? Why didn’t you say anything? Was it really so unbearable to stay?

His thoughts spiraled as he sat there, motionless, staring at the remnants of what he thought was a stable arrangement. The unanswered questions twisted in his mind, leaving a hollow ache in their wake.

“Forgive my frankness, Mr. Barnes,” the CEO began, her tone professional yet slightly playful. “Since you’re officially single now, would you like me to add you back to the list?”

Bucky’s eyes darkened, and his jaw tightened as he leveled a cold glare at her. “Marriage is the last thing on my mind.”

The CEO nodded, her smile faint and understanding. “Of course. I apologize for asking.”

Bucky stood, adjusting his suit jacket with deliberate movements, signaling the end of the conversation. He turned to leave, but the CEO rose to her feet and extended her hand toward him.

“It’s been a privilege having you as our client, Mr. Barnes,” she said with a polite smile. “I hope our paths cross again.”

He paused, his eyes narrowing slightly as he regarded her. After a brief hesitation, he reached out and shook her hand, his grip firm but curt. “This is the last time I’ll be here.”

Her smile didn’t falter, remaining calm and composed. “Safe travels, Mr. Barnes. And thank you for using our services.”

Bucky released her hand without another word, his expression unreadable as he turned on his heel and strode toward the exit. His footsteps echoed in the quiet, elegant office, a stark reminder that this chapter of his life was closing for good.

🌸🌸🌸🌸

Bucky slid into the backseat of his car, running a hand through his hair in frustration. The driver glanced at him through the rearview mirror, hesitant but professional. “Where to, Mr. Barnes?”

Bucky exhaled sharply, leaning back against the seat. “To Grandpa’s house.”

“Yes, sir.”

As the car wove through the streets, Bucky stared out the window, lost in thought. His mind wandered to his grandfather, Paul—stubborn, sharp-tongued, and annoyingly perceptive. He wondered if the old man already knew you had left or if he was still blissfully unaware.

Ever since you met his family, you’d formed an immediate bond with Paul. The connection between you two had been almost effortless. You once told Bucky that, having never known your own grandparents, you’d always yearned for an elder figure in your life.

For Paul, who often clashed with Bucky during their 20-minute tolerance window, you were a revelation. You brought out a side of him Bucky rarely saw—a livelier, softer version of the strict, commanding patriarch. Paul saw in you the granddaughter he’d always wished for: someone who called him, visited him, and actually listened to his long-winded stories.

Yet even that bond hadn’t been enough to make you stay.

When the car pulled up to the grand estate, Bucky stepped out and made his way inside, his movements tense and deliberate. He headed toward Paul’s study, where the old man often spent his afternoons.

Pushing open the door, he paused. Paul sat in his wheelchair by the fireplace, glasses perched on his nose, reading a letter. The firelight cast warm hues across the room, highlighting the lined face of a man who had lived through decades of triumphs and disappointments.

Before Bucky could announce his presence, Paul’s voice broke the silence.

“She left, didn’t she?” The elder’s tone was heavy, filled with resignation. He crumpled the letter in his hands and tossed it into the flames, watching as it curled into ash.

Bucky froze, guilt knotting in his chest. “She… she said goodbye to you?”

Paul didn’t look up. “And about the agency.”

Bucky’s stomach dropped. His mind raced, scrambling for an explanation. Did Grandpa know everything?

“Grandpa, I can explain—”

“Shut up, you stupid boy!” Paul snapped, his voice rising with a force that belied his age. His hand moved to his chest as if to steady himself. “You fooled me twice, Bucky. Twice! First, you made me believe your marriage was real. Then, you made me believe I finally had a granddaughter.”

Bucky instinctively stepped closer, his hand resting gently on Paul’s shoulder, his other moving to massage the elder’s chest. “I’m sorry, Grandpa. I—”

Paul shook him off, his eyes blazing with disappointment. “And don’t get me started on that ridiculous matchmaking agency. It’s absurd! What happened to normal relationships? Real love?”

Bucky swallowed hard, his throat dry.

Paul’s voice cracked, the anger giving way to heartbreak. “You broke this old man’s heart, Bucky. I thought… I thought I could finally go in peace, knowing you had a wife. A good girl by your side. But now…”

He saw it with his own eyes—that Bucky and you were a perfect match. Turns out, it was all a lie. It broke him.

“Tell me,” Paul said, his voice trembling with a mix of anger and desperation, “does she mean anything to you? Or was it just a contract?”

Bucky hesitated, the weight of the question pressing down on him. He opened his mouth but no words came out.

Paul’s eyes narrowed, his disappointment deepening. “You know what? She was right to leave you for a single dollar.”

The words hit Bucky like a slap. His fists clenched at his sides, his jaw tightening. Everyone seemed to blame him for your departure—Grace, the agency, and now his own grandfather. What did I do that was so wrong?

He finally snapped. “If she didn’t mean anything to me, would I have walked out of a $100 billion meeting to go ask where she is?”

It hurt even more because he had lost his best friend. A wife was just a word to him, but a best friend? Yes. Yes, you were. You meant a lot to him, and to his grandfather as well. And you just left without a proper goodbye, as if he didn’t deserve one. He needed answers.

He even skipped a meeting worth billions of dollars. For him to miss it means you are worth more than billions to him.

Paul’s eyes widened, his expression shifting from anger to realization.

“Then what are you doing here?” Paul barked, his voice regaining its edge. “Go find her!”

Bucky stood, stunned into silence.

“Don’t come back until you’ve found her!” Paul continued, pointing toward the door. “And forget about the company. It can survive without you. She’s the one you need to fix this with.”

Bucky nodded stiffly, his expression a mix of determination and frustration. Without another word, he turned and strode out of the study, leaving Paul alone by the fire.

🌸🌸🌸🌸

As Bucky stepped out of his grandfather’s house, the weight of the conversation still hanging over him, his phone buzzed in his pocket. He took it out, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration before answering.

"Sir," came the voice of his head of security.

Bucky sighed, exhaustion creeping into his bones. "Tell me at least some good news," he muttered, running a hand through his hair.

"We found her."

The words hit him like a jolt of electricity. His pulse quickened, and for the first time in what felt like ages, a flicker of hope lit in his chest.

Bucky straightened up, his posture shifting from defeat to determination. "Where is she?" His voice was sharper now, his body leaning forward, eager for any hint of where you might be.

This was the news he’d been waiting for, the answer he desperately needed.

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[maythedreadwolftakeyou]

i'll be honest i haven't done as much Illario Pondering up to this point as some others. but i am Rotating Him now so gonna do my thinking out loud on my already too long post just because...

obviously Illario and Lucanis responded to their childhoods in very different ways/grew up into very different people but i think if you want to trace Illario's Issues back down to this level you can see how that would turn him into who we see in the game/stories too.

while Lucanis ends up as a loner with "no one else" (that he Counts anyway), Illario seems to have way more connections when we meet him as an adult--he flirts with anyone, he's into nightlife, he hooks up with random people at parties, the other Crows will mention him like he's a known presence in their lives--yet none of them know what he's Really up to. So his relationships outside Lucanis & Caterina do seem to exist in plenty, but they also seem to be very shallow. Unless he has some offscreen never mentioned confidant, no one seems to know what he's up to, with either Lucanis's or Caterina's "deaths", or his alliance with the Venatori/Gods. he's kept that part secret while keeping up all these other social connections. in theory maybe he got some of the other off-screen talons on his side who knew the whole story but we don't have any evidence for that either way I think (though I don't remember all the codex details so I could be wrong).

[sidebar: yes, Zara, i know. apparently they were deep enough in whatever they had going on to have love-y pet names but like... clearly not enough that Illario wasn't willing to kill her to cover his own tracks; and personally i have my doubts that the relationship was without any ulterior motives on Zara's part either. even if they did care for each other on some level they were or weren't willing to admit (since that's entirely within our realm of interpretation now) it clearly took lesser priority than their other goals)]

SO. Illario's a conniving man (intentionally!) who isn't sharing everything he knows with his "allies" probably on either side, but at the same time... he is still a very emotional man. i don't think the whole "use people and drop them" thing is his actual desire as much as how he's gotten used to operating in the world. while Lucanis seems to have self-isolated as a way to protect both himself & those around him, I think you can interpret Illario as instead learning that he can achieve the same result by instead having a large amount of very shallow relationships. By spreading around his desire for connection he creates a situation where Caterina can't possibly remove them all from his life, but has the plausible deniability of not being actively close to anyone so he doesn't risk punishment falling on himself either.

and i don't necessarily think his approach was a WORSE one compared to Lucanis', at first. in many ways something's better than nothing and Illario seems to have a better understanding of himself & his emotions (not saying he always does or it's a GOOD understanding, but "better than Lucanis" is not a very high bar), plus way more experience in general at just. social anything. because now that they're adults, ILLARIO is the one who has managed to stand up to Caterina, and change the direction of his own life, even if he did pick the most ruthless path to it. Unlike Lucanis (in The Wigmaker Job & first parts of Veilguard) he DOES show great deal of autonomy, understanding that his tiny family is the thing holding him back from what he really wants. But he also has no one else jumping over to help him, no one left he can manipulate, and so he reaches past the crows to the Venatori/Gods as the next step.

so the true downside to this is in fact based in reputation more than anything else. because he's spent years seemingly playing with the emotions of everyone else while never really giving them a way in, as a coping mechanism... he's already burned those potential bridges in a way Lucanis hasn't. people aren't willing to extend extra graces to him the same way. possibly it even contributed to why Caterina liked him less as a successor, since he was less controllable by her personal rules/whims. i dont really have a thesis statement here like before since i haven't been mulling it over as long but i think it's a fun way to interpret their dynamic.

man... in Veilguard it really is so so clear how much Lucanis yearns for connection, how much he laments having barely anyone who is a tangible long-term presence in his life. Illario and Caterina are IT until he meets Rook, he tells them.

but he grew up in the Dellamorte estate. A huge, huge manor that would not just have servants, but STAFF. payrolls full of people who clean and cook and keep the place running. And we know he had some amount of free reign around the place. He explored in the tunnels and basements and found the secret entrance/exit while playing alone. He learned how to make churros and cook other food from the kitchen staff. Someone taught him to knit. So... where are those people? Where's the kindly cook who became a second mother, or the maids who watched him play? He would know their names and remember them, if they were around long enough. And it's NOT just some rich boy privilege that makes him forget they're there, because we know he sees the working class as people who with real lives. In The Wigmaker Job, he knows elves in the alienage, who think well enough of him to let him use their secret routes around the city. He risks the whole mission and breaks rules to let one single serving maid go--they're not invisible or somehow lesser to him. He was raised as a Crow, he's been trained since he was a boy to be observant--he'd listen for the names and details about the lives of servants who were around him all the time as a child. And he is also kind and gentle, so he would reach back if they offered him any kind of affection

Which means their absence in his life is intentional. Caterina must have had the staff rotated often enough that he couldn't learn who they were, and discouraged anyone from talking to or connecting with the Dellamorte boys--she probably thought she was keeping them safe. Keeping them from having people who might matter and therefore could be used against all of them--not to mention it's way easier to slip a poisoned treat to a trusting child, or convince them to follow you out of the estate to an undisclosed location. Her paranoia after losing all her children and other grandkids warped into isolating the Dellamorte boys utterly from any kind of connection and affection outside of herself, and then she withheld it anyway, because she was afraid of getting hurt again too (<- not an excuse, still abuse). And she is NOT a kind woman, who would look over a transgression--servants disobeying her orders about staying away from her grandsons would mean losing their job at best and probably physical punishment along with it. Or maybe you just never saw that coworker who dared say something kind to a crying child again.

It's so sad. And makes it so much more meaningful that there WERE occasional times he got away with it anyway. I wonder how much those cooks risked when teaching him how a kitchen runs, and to make his favorite dessert. If they had some excuse for it, or were all sent away once Caterina found out. Of course he'd stop trying to make friends with any children of the staff his age, if any time he did, the whole family got moved to work at a summer villa in the country instead. If the people who cleaned his rooms were different every month. He'd notice that anyone who he tried to get close to just ended up out of his life entirely, and so eventually Caterina wouldn't need to keep isolating him intentionally as he grew. Lucanis learned. He started doing it himself.

[ssa-danhotchner]

Happier | Aaron Hotchner x fem!reader

summary: Years after their breakup, y/n struggles with seeing Hotch move on with his new partner, Beth, while still working alongside him every day.

cw: use of y/n, past relationship, heartbreak, angst?, themes of moving on, Haley mentioned. let me know if I missed anything

wc: 1k

note: English isn't my first language so please be kind. I had the entire sour album stuck in my head. Please give me some ideas to write

read part two here

The sound of laughter echoed faintly through the bullpen as the last of the team packed up for the night. You sat at your desk, staring blankly at the screen of your computer. The words of your report blurred together, the glowing monitor casting pale light over your exhausted face. You didn’t even know why you were still there; everyone else had gone home.

Everyone, except for him.

Aaron Hotchner.

It had been years since the two of you had ended things, but the wound never seemed to fully heal. Time had dulled the ache, sure, but it hadn’t erased the memories.

You could still see the way he’d smile when it was just the two of you, the way his hand would linger on yours longer than necessary, the way he whispered your name like it was the only word that mattered. Back then, it felt like you had something unshakable, something real. But life had a way of pulling people apart, and for you and Aaron, it had been no different.

It wasn’t a dramatic breakup. There were no screaming matches, no accusations hurled in the heat of the moment. It had been quiet, almost agonizingly so. You’d both known it was over before either of you said the words. The demands of his job, his grief over Haley, and the ever-present weight of being a single father—it was too much for him to bear. And you, despite loving him more than anything, hadn’t been enough to bridge the growing gap between you.

“I can’t give you what you deserve,” he’d said that night, his voice heavy with regret. “You deserve more than stolen moments and half-hearted promises.”

And that had been it.

You had cried, of course. For weeks, maybe months. But you told yourself you’d be fine, that you’d move on. You tried to convince yourself that his words weren’t true, that you could have made it work. But deep down, you knew he was right.

Still, knowing it was the right thing didn’t make it any easier.

Now, years later, you had settled into a new normal. Working alongside him every day was a constant reminder of what you’d lost, but you’d learned to compartmentalize. You had to. There was no room for personal feelings when lives were on the line.

Or at least, that was what you told yourself.

Your eyes drifted to his office, where the light was still on. Through the glass, you could see him sitting at his desk, his phone pressed to his ear. His face softened as he spoke, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

You knew who he was talking to.

Beth.

The name tasted bitter on your tongue, though you hated yourself for it. She was kind, warm, and good for him. You’d never met her formally, but you’d heard enough to know she made him happy. And wasn’t that what you wanted? For him to be happy?

But it wasn’t that simple.

Because every time you saw him with her—every time you heard him mention her in passing—it felt like someone was twisting a knife in your chest. You wanted him to be happy, but not like this. Not with her.

I hope you’re happy, but not like how you were with me.

The lyrics played on a loop in your mind, echoing your most selfish thoughts. You wanted to believe he still thought of you, that some small part of him missed what you’d shared. But the rational part of you knew better. Aaron Hotchner wasn’t the type to dwell on the past. He had moved on.

“Hey.”

His voice startled you out of your thoughts. You looked up to see him standing in front of your desk, his expression tinged with concern.

“You’re still here?” he asked, his brow furrowed.

“I could say the same to you” you replied, forcing a small smile.

He didn’t return it. “You should go home. It’s late.”

“I will” you said, though you had no intention of leaving just yet.

For a moment, neither of you spoke. The air between you felt heavy, weighed down by all the things left unsaid.

“Are you okay?” he asked finally, his dark eyes searching yours.

You hesitated. “Yeah. Just tired, I guess.”

He nodded, but you could tell he didn’t quite believe you.

“Goodnight, y/n” he said softly, his voice carrying an undercurrent of something you couldn’t quite place.

“Goodnight, Hotch”

You watched him walk away, the sound of his footsteps fading into the quiet of the bullpen.

Once he was gone, you let out a shaky breath, the weight in your chest threatening to crush you. You hated how much power he still had over you, how his presence could unravel you so completely.

Leaning back in your chair, you closed your eyes, letting the memories flood in despite the pain they brought. You thought of the nights you’d spent tangled together, whispering secrets in the dark. You thought of the way he’d kiss your forehead before leaving for work, murmuring promises to come back to you.

And you thought of the way it all ended, the way he walked out of your life without looking back.

It wasn’t fair.

You wanted to move on, to let go of the love that still clung to you like a ghost. But every time you tried, you found yourself pulled back to him, to the man who had once been your everything.

You sighed, grabbing your bag and shutting off your computer. As you walked to your car, the night air was cool against your skin, but it did little to soothe the ache in your heart.

Sitting behind the wheel, you gripped the steering wheel tightly, fighting back the tears that threatened to spill over.

“I hope you’re happy,” you whispered to the empty car, your voice cracking. “But don’t be happier.”

The words hung in the air, a quiet confession to a love you could never fully let go of.

And as you drove away, the memories of him lingered, a bittersweet reminder of the love you once had—and the happiness you’d never find again.

[imagine-notnatural]

More Task force 141 x Janitor Reader

It starts when you offer a neck massage to Rodriguez. They’d just returned from some mission, and all she and the rest of group did was complain about how sore they were. As shes a close friend with Michael, and a good friend of yours too, you decided to offer her relief. A quick massage, just while you had time between tasks and she had her own downtime.

You once done it absentmindedly when you stood behind Michael at a meeting. He sat on the bench in front of you, so you just simply rested your hands on his shoulders. Nothing over the top. However as the meeting progressed, he’d started feeling your hands gently squeeze his shoulders. Michael didn’t react, he didn’t move or give any indication that he felt what was going on; figuring you might stop the pleasant movements of your hands. This continued for another twenty minutes, by the time the meeting ended you’d thoroughly worked out all the kinks in his neck and shoulders, had gently run your hands through his hair enough times where his eyes had to fight to stay open, and left him in a daze.

Ever since, any time he’d feel your hands on his shoulders he’d still, hoping that you were entranced enough with whatever it was Bill(your boss) was talking about that you’d do it again.

“You can say no, Im just offering a service, you don’t have to tell me yes if you’re uncomfortable. Genuinely, I only offer because you seem like you need it” you say, awkwardly turning away from her as she seemed on the fence.

“Marisol, trust me, it’s good. You’ll probably get put to sleep. I call (Name) NyQuil behind their back because they nearly put me to sleep once-“

“Mikey what the fuck-“

Rodríguez laughed, “Sounds good, Thanks (Name) I really appreciate it.” Once she gave you the go ahead, you rounded behind her.

“You still good?”

She gave you a nod.

You started gently kneading the muscles at the base of her neck and worked down from there. The way the three of you were positioned was that Mikey (and you previously) had your backs facing the recreational rooms’ tv, and now you were able to face the tv with Marisol. Some reality tv show had caught your attention, and with time, the sounds from the screen and the show itself distracted you.

By the last comercial break, when you looked down you found Rodriguez was chin-to-chest. Her head rolling over to allow you to gently trace the base of her neck with your nails.

“You still okay?” You asked, chuckling when she grunted happily as her answer.

Just then, more of her squad came bounding in..

“Rodriguez we’ve been looking for you what are- Hey what’re you doing?”

“What’s it look like?” You respond, noting that Marisol had yet to lift her head and her eyes remained shut.

“Aw dude- Me next! My fucking back has been killing me!” Someone from outside the door said, when you turned to look it was another member of their squad.

“You want one? Twenty dollars for however long real housewives of Dubai is on-“ Mikey instantly sat up from the old couch, his arm outstretched and hand open. You instantly shot Michael a glare, while the others looked at him in disbelief.

“Man what-“

“Mikey I didn’t-“

“It’s worth it” Marisol said, loud enough to catch everyone’s attention. She placed a hand over your hand own and gave you a quick thank you. She got up from the folding chair she’d been sat at and riled her shoulders. “It’s fucking worth it. Watch this,”

She made a show of rolling her shoulders and neck.

“Im gonna sleep like a fucking baby tonight. Ten out ten, will recommend ” She smiled and gave you another thank you. You were distracted by her smile, and didn’t hear what Mikey said next.

“So? You heard her, and you know Rodriguez doesn’t lie for shit- what do you say?” Michael smirked, hand still outstretched.The two men looked at each other before they looked back at you.

Still distracted by Rodriguez’s smile, you didn’t notice when the men pulled out their wallets.

“You got change for a fifty?”

“I do”

You turned to see the men exchange bills in front of you before offering you twenty each.

“Im not- I mean- uh-“

You sighed as they gave you a pleading look.

I mean you’re a college student paying out of state tuition fees AND the majority of check went into rent and bills… Having a bit of extra cash is like totally in your best interests…

“Who’s going first?”

And that’s how you became a part time masseuse.

It was a well kept secret. Michael had taking to managing the operation, his payment being on demand head scratches. He’d made it so only people vouched by someone you’d already worked on or by you or Michael personally, would you even consider. It was all kept on the down low so that you wouldn’t end up in some sort of trouble, you accepted payment in cash, goods, and trades of services. And everyone was kept in check by some sort of code of honor they’d established amongst themselves.

Marisol and Michael and taken it up to personally warn (threaten) everyone that if you got caught and didn’t give massages anymore they wouldn’t take it lightly. (Blah blah blah breaking knee caps blah blah blah Marisol is so creative!)

And sure there were physical therapists on base, but for whatever reason you seemed to excel in relaxing people to the point of sleep. That’s what people really came to you for.

One night when you were on graveyard shift, you recieved a text from Michael.

TMNT: Hey, just fyi sgt MacTavish and Garrick r gonna head over to you soon

You: ??

TMNT: The ones w the thiq thighs n fat asses

You: be more specific this is yam city we’re in partner

TMNT: SCOTLAND FOREVAA n the guy w the cap from the 141

You: yOU MEAN KYLE?! ur lYING!! HOW?!

You: who couched ?!

You: vouched*

TMNT: Marisol

You: Ah :o

TMNT: Yeah ;)

You: (ToT)

You: Bye then

TMNT : toodlelu~

You waited nervously for the two sergeants in the rec room. You eased your nerves by scrolling through the streaming services on the TV. Just as you had finally settled on a series, there was a knock of the opened door.

“So yur’ NyQuil?” The Scotsman was the first to enter, an inquisitive eye as he looked over your humble single chair set up. His resting smile, made your stomach do flips as you watched him look you over

“ a wee bit jumpy no?” Soap smiled, getting side eye from his fellow sergeant who was still outside the door.

“Fucking Michael- Yes but no, don’t call me that. It’s (Name), the dipshit trying to get the name to stick is my friend…” you fought to maintain eye contact with those bright blue eyes of his

The Englishmen made his appearance soon after,

“ So it is you! What? Threatenin’ us to keep clean wasn’t enough for you, you’d to start knocking people out?” Kyle walked in with a grin.

“Well, you’re some big hotshot guy so when I couldn’t get to you I had to find an outlet.” You chuckled,

“So Marisol let y’all in on the operation. What’s going on fellas?”

“Near dam dislocated my shoulder when training last week and haven’t been able to sleep it off,” Johnny answered, tentatively rolling said shoulder. You nodded then turned to Kyle,

“Well, truth is I’ve just been tired.” You nodded again,

“Alright then gentlemen, I’ll get started with-“

“Call me John, Bonnie”

“Okay, I start with John and I’ll get to you after.” You gesture for Johnny to sit in the folding chair beside you, “there’s snacks- well the layout is almost the same as your own personal rec. room so you’ll know where snacks are. Kick back on the couch, watch the movie and n’” you turn slightly to see how much more of the movie remained… an hour and forty five minutes.

“Like 45 minutes I’ll have y’all switch.”

The two men looked at each other briefly before stepping to their spots. Gaz on the couch and soap in the chair.

“Oh can I actually get you turned the other way?” You ask, Johnny quickly stands to turn around and sit as you positioned him.

“Okay, now, just let me know if anything hurts in the not good way, okay? I’m going to get started on your neck and then work from there. Sound good?” You asked, placing a bit of scentless lotion on your hands.

“Let me know if I hurt you,” Kyle couldn’t help but turn away from the screen to see you get started on Johnny. As you couldn’t see his face, Johnny scoffed lightly and gave Kyle a small smile at your words. Chin restringing on his arms, Johnny began speaking

“Nah, I’m sure’ve had worse, ‘think I can handle-“

Kyle had the pleasure of seeing his teammate’s face freeze and contort into something between pained and relieved-

“Jesús, Mary, n’ Joseph, the grip on you-“ Johnny grunted, hiding his face in his arms. From his angle, Kyle could see the way your thumbs dug into the base of his neck.

Gaz laughed, “What mate? You good?”

“If it hurts I’ll stop, just say the word,” You said, seemingly unfazed,

“Don’t you bloody dare-“ He muttered, leaning his weight into your hold. He began muttering phrases under his breath, some unfamiliar to you and other indiscernible.

“That good huh?” Kyle smirked,

Johnny, who’s face was buried in his arms only grunted at muttered “-bile your heid” or at least that’s what you managed to understand.

“It’s alright, it’s a compliment to me, yeah?”

Johnny made a noise of agreement

The three of you laughed it off, continuing with light conversation, soon enough you got into your rhythm.

See? nothing to be afraid of! Just passing the time and getting some of that green!

“So how did you find you had this talent of your’s, (Name)?”

“It was just something I did since I was younger. I’d usually only do it for my family but I haven’t..” you paused, thinking of how to continue.

“Ay, dinae stop I paid good money for dis’” Johnny joked sleepily, his breath had begun to steady and his voice sounded more muffled, like his mouth wasn’t moving at all. You chuckled and carried on.

“Relax sergeant, I’m not stopping.” You moved back from his broad shoulders to the base of his neck. You could’ve sworn he’d began purring as your fingers began raking through his hair and working at the junction between his neck and skull.

“But yeah, just something I’ve always done.”

Kyle nodded, taking note of your hesitation but not commenting. You all remained in a comfortable silence afterwards, the movie playing in the background.

Before you knew it, the forty five minutes were up. Your phone buzzed on the counter and you lifted your hands though no without immediate protest.

“Timers’ rigged-“

“No sir. Go ahead and get up, I’ve got to do your friend next before I head out for my actual work. “

“Get out the chair bruv- it’s my turn.”

He only grunted.

Johnny groaned but rose this time, he tentively lifted his arm and rolled it in its socket,

“Braw Job la-“

“Move!”

“Cannae you see I’m going ya jobbie?!”

You laughed, not entirely sure what the Scot was saying but understanding the fact he was pleased with the results. Johnny grumbled annoyed as he laid back on the coach,

“N’ I was falling asleep too!” He complained halfheartedly, placing his feet in the arm of the couch.

“Ay mate but you were cutting into my time.”

“Ah Git Awa’ and Bile Yer Heid,” John huffed, watching as Kyle took his seat in your chair. “Alright same rules, let me know when something’s not working for you or hurts in a bad way, ‘Kay Garrick?”

“Garrick? What happened to Kyle? You cross with me?”

He’d turned his head back slightly, his expression ameused.

“This is a professional setting Mr. Garrick, I’ve got to be professional.” A smug smile pulled at your lips. You placed your hands on his shoulders to begin.

“So this is where you two disappeared to.”

You turned around to trace the source of the unfamiliar voice. You were lead to the doorway- oh hey it’s the grim reaper

“ AH!”

By now both men in the room, had begun stifling their snickers.

“We have to stop meeting like this!I mean you no offense but you’re one scary S-O-B you know that” You swalllowed, raising your head from beside Kyle.

He didn’t respond, but telling from his eyes and the minuscule movement where his mouth would be, you figured he was amused.

“Stalking us’ Lt.? And here we thought yee couldn’ stand us,”

He giant of the group of giants found his place in the corner of the room, he leaned against the counter and allowed for Johnny to yap away.

Meanwhile you’d restarted your timer hesitantly, starting again and hoping that the sound of John’s voice and the tv kept your voice out of earshot.

You leaned over slightly, just enough for Kyle to hear you. ( And for a tingle down his spine n heat reach the tip of his ears)

“He won’t kill me right? He looks the like kinda of guy that could kill me.”

“I mean he could, but he won’t….‘Least I hope…”

“Fuck right off then Garrick, if it wasn’t for the money you paid me I’d leave right now.”

“So you’re telling me you’re only here for money? I thought you liked me?”

“Just because you’re hot doesn’t mean you can’t be insufferable, sergeant. I’ve gotta keep the bills paid somehow.”

“You think I’m hot?” He smirked,

“Yeah,” you scoffed, “- and insufferable, don’t forget that part. It’s key that you understand that’s more important .”

The two of you continued to bicker, not noticing that the Lieutenant and other sergeant had been watching the two of you interact.

“Lively one ye?” Soap turned slightly to get a look at Ghost’s expression. Despite being hiding under that skull themed baklava of his, Johnny felt he’d seen enough and been through enough with the man to get a general feel for him.

Ghost took a moment to take in the scene.

Kyle trying to rile you up while being forced multiple times to keep his head facing forward. A broad smile on his face and the sound of his laugh just slightly louder than the television.

You, who eventually forced him to plant his face into his arms so that the whole ordeal would be over with. A smile tugging on your own lips no matter how hard you tried to fight it.

He then turned back to Johnny, who watched the two of you as well. The look on his face seeming content, his eyes following the way Kyle’s eyes lit up and switching off to the way your lips moved when you smiled and spit back another comeback. There was a heat to it all but.. The whole scene was so… domestic. Ghost quickly turned away, instead focusing on how you decided to torture Gaz, completely giving up on the relaxation part of the massage and instead aiming for as many weak spots as you could find.

Lively indeed.

[darkserenity24]

𝑭𝒓𝒆𝒆𝒅𝒐𝒎 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝑪𝒉𝒂𝒐𝒔 - 𝑪𝒉. 10

Loki x Reader

𝘾𝙝𝙖𝙥𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙎𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮: 𝙔𝙤𝙪 𝙣𝙖𝙫𝙞𝙜𝙖𝙩𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙬𝙝𝙞𝙧𝙡𝙬𝙞𝙣𝙙 𝙤𝙛 𝙖𝙩𝙩𝙚𝙣𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣 𝙛𝙧𝙤𝙢 𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙧𝙮𝙤𝙣𝙚 𝙗𝙚𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙘𝙤𝙣𝙫𝙞𝙣𝙘𝙚𝙙 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙖𝙧𝙚 𝙙𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙜𝙤𝙙 𝙤𝙛 𝙢𝙞𝙨𝙘𝙝𝙞𝙚𝙛.

𝘈/𝘕: 𝘌𝘹𝘤𝘪𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘰𝘯𝘦! 𝘗𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘦 𝘦𝘯𝘫𝘰𝘺, 𝘳𝘦𝘣𝘭𝘰𝘨, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘢 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵!

𝙒𝙝𝙮 𝙬𝙤𝙪𝙡𝙙 𝙄 𝙣𝙤𝙩 𝙬𝙖𝙣𝙩 𝙮𝙤𝙪?

After you and Loki were ambushed earlier that week, the atmosphere in the tower had noticeably shifted. Things felt unusually tense, to say the least.

The team seemed to be unsure of what to do about the media–and now the whole world–thinking that you and Loki were together. Mixed emotions were coming from everyone, ranging from confusion to annoyance, anger, and even subtle amusement. Tony and Steve were trying their hardest to mitigate any more rumors the press were spreading about you two, but it was pointless in your opinion. Regardless of what the truth was, people would always think what they wanted to.

Then there was Natasha and surprisingly enough, Sam, who were both getting a ridiculous amount of enjoyment from the situation. If it weren’t for Tony being highly peeved, they’d probably be teasing you any chance they could. They still did it, just in private.

You, on the other hand, were mind blown about the current situation you found yourself in. You didn’t know what to think, or how to go about it, being completely lost for words. How could anyone think that you and Loki were dating? Why did anyone think you and Loki were dating? It didn’t make any sense to you, and you continued to drive yourself crazy by reading every news article that popped up on your phone.

You were sitting in the living room, watching the ten o’clock news as they debated on how dangerous your and Loki's relationship was for the human race. But that wasn’t even the worst part about it.

You cringed as the headline ‘CAPTAIN AMERICA’S FORMER LOVER CHEATS ON HIM WITH INFAMOUS WAR CRIMINAL’ rolled across the screen in bold letters. 

The fact that people still believed you were ever with Steve in the first place was enough to send you into a mental spiral. How were you supposed to show your face at school again? It was almost impossible for you to step outside without getting bombarded with cameras and questions. You couldn’t even take a five minute walk without being ambushed.

You didn’t register anything the newscaster was saying, eyes glued to the displayed photo of you and Loki walking in the park the other day. You were staring up at him as he gazed down at you, his jacket dwarfing your smaller frame. His hand was on your back as you both walked back to the car. They made sure to choose the photo that supported their story as much as possible, seeming as if they had caught a very intimate moment between you two. It was hard to say whether the photo had been edited or if it was simply one of those rare, perfectly-timed shots.

As you scrutinized the photo more, there was a tiny wisp of a thought in the back of your mind that you didn’t really want to entertain. Maybe the photo wasn’t exaggerated at all, and even though the media was lying, your intense gazes and the almost nonexistent space between you made it hard to believe your relationship wasn’t deeper than you were claiming it to be.

Whether you both noticed or not, it appeared that you and Loki were giving off the impression of being a couple to those around you. Or at least to the public.

Your close friendship was enough to send people into a frenzy, and they were turning it into something more than it really was.

Your brows furrowed when the television screen suddenly went black. You turned to see Loki standing a few feet away with the remote in his hand. He sat it down on the coffee table before taking a seat next to you.

“I don’t believe it’s wise for you to be torturing yourself with this foolishness,” he said.

You groaned in frustration, running a hand over your face. “I know, I know, but I can’t help it. I just can’t wrap my head around how all of this happened.”

“Perhaps you do not need to put any more thought into it. It is obvious to me that this city is not ran by the most intelligent of your species. The statement about your involvement with Rogers is completely false. These people are absolute idiots.”

“Yeah, you’re right about that at least. I don’t know how the media is in Asgard but I hope it’s nothing like this.” You commented, leaning back on the sofa cushions, face twisting into an amused expression.

“I mean, think about it. Why would anyone believe you would ever want to date someone like me? That’s really the most ridiculous part about this entire situation.”

It was true. Never in your life had you deluded yourself into thinking a literal Norse god from a different planet would be attracted to you out of everyone he’d met before. You could only imagine the long line of beautiful Asgardian goddesses that were patiently awaiting his return.

Glancing back at Loki, you anticipated his signature smirk, or for him to be joining in on your laughter at the ridiculousness of the situation and in agreement with your take.

There was no laughter, no smirk—his expression was devoid of amusement. Strangely, he appeared taken aback, dark brows knit and his gaze sharp and unexpectedly serious.

“What?” You asked. “Did I say something wrong?”

“No,” He muttered, glancing away with a thoughtful frown. “Not exactly.”

He didn’t elaborate more, but by the troubled look in his eyes, you got the hint that he probably didn’t want to speak more about it at the moment. 

You blinked, slowly looking away from him in silence, feeling largely confused about his sudden mood change. All you said was the obvious so you did not understand why he seemed to be thrown off guard by it. He didn’t even provide an offensive, but ridiculously clever, quip at your expense. 

It was unusual.

You found yourself thinking about it on and off throughout the rest of the day but it soon left your mind when you got caught up in the busyness of the week. The days flew by before you could blink.

One thing about living in the Avengers Tower was that there was always something going on. Boredom didn’t exist there. 

Between keeping up with your coursework, lab work, and everything else, your schedule was packed and you were pretty worn out by the end of each day. Another thing you didn’t have any trouble with these days was lack of sleep, though when you awoke in the morning, your body still felt like it was hit by a semi-truck. 

You knew you had to do something about your lack of energy and physical weakness. There was no way you’d last at the rate you were going with the amount of dizziness and fatigue you were experiencing on a daily basis. You put up a pretty convincing front around others, but you knew it was only time before you started to show more symptoms you couldn’t hide anymore.

The fact that you had gotten sick in front of Loki the other day raised some serious alarm bells within you. Dr. Cho did her best to handle your care, and you meant that with full honesty and appreciation. You most likely wouldn’t still be walking around if it wasn’t for her extreme intelligence and quick remedies. However, she was not able to give you what you really wanted at the moment.

Though Dr. Cho was obligated to keep full doctor-patient confidentiality between you two, she didn’t hesitate to make it known at every chance she had that she didn’t think it was a good idea to continue to hide your illness from everyone else. She always made that clear to you, but you also knew she wasn’t going to put you at risk by allowing you to try any experimental treatments either. 

Nothing was stopping you from seeking out another doctor who would be open to providing you access to beta-tested treatments or medications with higher risks, but there was no one else you would be able to trust more than Dr. Cho. Even if you wanted to, you didn’t have the resources or knowledge about the right people to go to. 

Then of all people, Kayla found you having some trouble in one of the women’s bathrooms at school one day.

Against everyone’s wishes, you had braved it out enough to go back to school in person. To say that was a bad idea was a huge understatement.

The looks that were shot your way from your fellow classmates, and even complete strangers, ranged from awe to confusion, and all the way to downright disgust. Even some of your professors seemed to look at you differently now. No one had been brave enough to say anything to your face but you caught numerous camera flashes being aimed your way. 

The attention made you sick to your stomach. You were in such a hurry to get to the toilet that you forgot to lock the stall door, and to just your luck, Kayla accidentally walked in the middle of you vomiting your guts out.

“Hey, is everything okay in th- oh my god!”

You yelped in surprise, peeking over your shoulder as you covered your mouth.

She was kind enough to help you up, quickly ushering you to the sink and grabbing a few paper towels before handing them to you.

You gratefully took them, wiping your mouth before thoroughly rinsing it out with warm water from the sink. 

“Are you pregnant?!” She exclaimed, blue eyes wide as saucers. 

You took a few much needed breaths before answering her question.

“No, I am certainly not pregnant.” you grimaced.

Her shoulders dropped in relief. “Thank god, because you would have owed me a hell of an explanation if you were. Did you just eat something bad?”

“Yeah, something like that.” You half answered, attempting to throw her off your scent. You weren’t ready to have yet another person find out about your illness. Wanda was still pissed at you for hiding it but by some miracle, she continued to stay silent about it like you had practically begged her to. 

Kayla on the other hand was not known for keeping secrets. 

“Oh, well let me know what I can do to help. You don’t look so good so I’m guessing you should probably get out of here sooner than later. Do you want me to drive you home?”

You weren’t exactly opposed to the idea of going home with Kayla. You wished you could call Lana instead and ask her, but she was knee deep in her own work and responsibilities so you didn’t want to interrupt or distract her. 

“Yes, that’s probably a good idea. Thank you.”

You followed her to her jeep, you both taking the route to the parking garage that was out of the way to avoid any more unnecessary harassment. You took that time to catch up since you hadn’t seen her in a while. Unfortunately for you, all she seemed to want to discuss were the latest news headlines.

“I’m telling you, I almost choked on my matcha latte when I saw you were on the news.” She chuckled.

You shook your head with a sigh. “The media is bored right now and needed someone new to torment, it just so happened to be me yet again. They only care about me since I’m so close to the Avengers. I just hate that they also dragged Loki into this as well.”

“Yeah, it is super crazy that they would even think that you’re dating him. I immediately knew it wasn’t true. I mean, why would he decide to go for you out of all people? That wouldn’t make any sense.” She laughed, pulling out her keys to unlock the doors to her jeep. “If he were interested in anyone he would probably go for someone with more of a status since he’s a prince and all, don’t you think?”

You paused, blinking in mild surprise. As blunt as her words were, you had to admit you agreed with her. It was almost exactly what you had said to Loki, but it seemed much harsher coming from Kayla’s mouth.

“Yeah… right. I didn’t know that you knew that Loki was a prince.”

“Oh, of course I do, silly!” She opened the door to the driver’s seat. “Right after I met him I immediately went online and researched every single thing about that man, and I have to say he’s kind of hot.” She smirked. “If only I were lucky enough to have dating rumors spread about me being with him. I’d certainly turn it into a real thing. I already told you, if he’s not taken then I’ll happily fill that role.”

Something deep within you despised the idea of Kayla thinking she had a chance with Loki, and it wasn’t just because he absolutely hated her. There was a feeling you couldn’t exactly describe that made your chest feel tight with pressure. 

“I-I don’t know about that.” You hesitated. “I don’t think that Loki’s looking for a girlfriend anytime soon. Eventually, he’s going to return to Asgard. That's really his main focus while he’s here.”

Kayla shrugged. “Doesn’t mean he can’t have any fun while he’s still here if you know what I mean. Plus, him being with someone else could possibly take some of the heat off of you. That way, everyone’s happy.” 

The wink she sent you had your stomach turning, and you quickly hopped into the passenger’s seat, ready to get home already. In your hurry, you clumsily dropped your backpack on the floor, hearing something tumble out of it and roll under the seat. Not realizing your bag was open you zipped it up and searched around for the missing item.

“Here, I think I see it,” Kayla said. She reached behind your seat and grabbed the item before pausing, a slow frown spreading on her face.

“What’s wrong?” You asked. It’s not like she of all people would be offended if it was something like a tampon.

Slowly, she brought the item into view and your face fell. It was a bottle of the most recent medication Dr. Cho had prescribed you to aid with your symptoms.

“Is this what I think it is?” She asked, looking between you and the bottle.

You quickly snatched it out of her hand and threw it into your bag.

“It’s nothing really. Just something I’ve been taking for my stomach ache.”

Her gaze narrowed, suspicion drawing upon her features.

“That’s not just for any stomach ache and both you and I know it. You want to tell me what’s actually going on?”

You quieted, looking down at your hands and she continued with a less accusing tone this time.

“I’ve seen the type of patients that get prescribed these drugs, and they all usually have something in common.”

“I..” you sighed, not really knowing what to say to her. You felt like you were caught red-handed, yet again, and this time it was because of your own clumsiness. She didn’t even have to look inside of your head to get it out of you. 

You decided to give in and tell her the truth. One thing about Kayla was that she was relentless when it came to getting the information she wanted and lying to her would only make the situation worse. You didn’t need another person pissed at you because of this.

“Yes… I um... I’m sick.” You whispered.

“How sick?” 

You swallowed hard. “I was recently diagnosed with cancer. Leukemia to be exact.”

Her breath hitched, and she looked genuinely worried for you.

“What? No...” She looked away frowning down at the excessively bedazzled steering wheel. “When.. How did this happen?”

“I don’t know. It could just be genetic.” You shrugged sadly. “I don’t really have that many people in my real family, and the ones I do have I don’t know very well. My mom died prematurely and my dad seems to be doing just fine. So… maybe I’m just an anomaly.”

“That’s insane. I’m so sorry this is happening to you. I like… don’t even know what to say.” She admitted. “Does your dad know?”

“God no.” You said exasperatedly. “He’s busy building his new life in another country. The last thing he needs to hear is that his only child was diagnosed with cancer before she even graduated college.” You placed a hand on your forehead, feeling stressed out to the max. “What can he do, anyway? The last thing I want him to do is feel obligated to move back here. I think he’s happier where is now, and I’m also happy with how my life is. We’re both in better places than we were before and I want to keep it that way.”

“Yeah, I understand that,” she agreed. “This is about you since you’re dealing with it, so you have the right to tell or not tell anyone you want. You come first, so don’t think I’m upset with you for keeping this from me, because I’m not. I totally understand. I honestly have no clue what I’d do if I was in your situation.”

You smiled at her. “Thanks, Kayla. That means a lot.” It truly did. You were glad she understood that this was something you wanted to keep close to you. Because of that, you began to open up more to her about everything that’s been going on concerning your illness, including your current predicament with Dr. Cho.

You sat in the car for what seemed like hours, and it probably was. The more you explained your symptoms, the more her expression grew serious with thought

“I don’t know if I told you before but my uncle has a medical practice in Long Island and it’s a really good one.” She added. “He has a facility that specializes in cancer research and may have more access to treatments that can help you. I’m sure Dr. Cho doesn’t have the current bandwidth to do that for you. Would you be interested in having a consultation with him?”

“Oh. Yeah sure.” You agreed in mild surprise. You weren’t familiar with her uncle, but if she believed he could improve your health, it was worth considering. “That would be great.”

“Okay! I’ll set up a meeting between you two sometime next week. Though my parents will probably want to be there as well. I know you don’t want anyone else to know but they’re kind of funding his research facility so they need to be involved.”

You didn’t know how to feel about her parents getting involved with your cancer treatments. It wasn’t exactly ideal.

“And if you’re worried about them saying anything to Tony, they won’t. I swear.” She promised, finally starting her car. “He doesn’t need to know everything that goes on. He thinks he does,” she snorted. “But he doesn’t know the half of it.”

She was right. You loved Tony like family, but knowing how much he tended to overreact to the smallest of situations, there was no way you were revealing this information to him anytime soon. He would probably just make things worse. You could forget leaving the tower altogether or continuing your work with Loki. He would probably ban you from working in the lab as well with all the various chemicals you were being exposed to.

Dr. Cho had ruled out all of those things a while ago, so none of those activities were contributing to your sickness but they did require a lot of energy to do. Energy was what you needed the most.

You needed the energy, you needed the vitality. You needed to appear and feel healthy even if you weren’t exactly one hundred percent well. That’s the only way you could fight this disease.

You agreed to meet with her uncle. You had doubts that he could solve anything or do much more than Dr. Cho, but you couldn’t go down without trying absolutely everything. You would do everything in your power to make sure you stayed healthy for as long as possible. Loki depended on you.

Later that evening, you were sprawled on your bed, legs in the air, while talking to Lana on the phone.

You wouldn’t normally be in your room before ten but you had a lot on your mind and had to speak to someone about it. 

“I don’t know how I’m going to continue doing this. I can’t even show my face at school without my classmates throwing me dirty looks.” You sighed out in frustration. “It’s like everyone’s attention is suddenly on me, and for what? A stupid rumor that’s not even true? Even if it was, it shouldn’t matter who I’m dating. Oh–and they still think I’m in a relationship with Steve at the same time. How in the hell would I be double-timing an Avenger and an Asgardian prince? Do they think I’m the queen or something? I don’t know if everyone else is aware of this but we don’t have royalty here in the States.”

If it was anyone else, you were sure they’d be long tired of your complaining and moping, but Lana continued to listen on, providing supportive commentary here and there as you went on.

You continued to blab on about the current messy state of your life to Lana’s welcoming ears, migrating from your bedroom and into the small living room. You walked past the large window, watching as small water droplets began to hit the glass. The brewing storm that was bound to happen at any time seemed to match your current mood. Gloomy and dark.

“I’m truly considering if I should just finish this semester at home. Being remote won’t be too bad. It may be best for everyone if I just didn’t show my face in public ever again.”

“I completely understand, girl. I would feel the exact same way. I’m sorry this is happening to you, but you can’t let them get to you.” She expressed. “You can’t let them send you into hiding. Who cares what they think? Hell, if I were you I would be flattered that people thought I could pull both Captain America and the god of mischief. They’re like the total opposite of each other, and that means you have range! I’d wear it like a badge of honor. They’re just jealous foreal.”

You couldn’t help but laugh. The situation wasn’t as glamorous as she was making it out to be but you knew she was just trying to lighten the mood. She had a knack for knowing what to say to get you to feel better. It was a talent.

“Yolo, right? You only have one life, so you can’t let what these randos are saying get to you. So get out there and live! Show them how much you don’t care what they’re saying about you. The more you show how unphased you are, they will eventually get bored and find some other unsuspecting victim to torment.”

You thought about her words, a newfound sense of pride running through your body. You realized that she was right. Here you were, sulking in your bedroom like a helpless victim when you could be out there living your life like normal. You couldn’t allow other people to dictate what you should and shouldn’t be doing, or let their opinions of you slow you down.

It may have taken a lot longer than you wanted to to come to this realization but you were glad to have such great friends. Though you had lost some trust in Kayla because of her brother, Jacob was no longer around, and her recent show of genuine care for you and your wellbeing made you feel as if she was a better friend than you thought she was. Everyone made mistakes, and you needed to cut her some slack.

She also was willing to help you find new treatments through her family’s business. The possibility of finding something that would improve your quality of life, as well as your boost in mood from Lana’s words of encouragement made you feel powerful.

So you decided to do something a bit spontaneous.

When Loki opened the door to his suite, he was surprised to see you standing there in a long raincoat and boots, holding two large umbrellas and grinning brightly.

His eyes were narrowed as he eyed you carefully.

“Please do not tell me you’re planning on going out in that dreadful weather?”

“Nope,” you chirped, shaking your head. “We are going out in that dreadful weather together. Now go put on something warm before it gets worse out there.”

He didn’t look too thrilled about that, jaw dropping as he stared at you incredulously. “You have to be joking.” 

“No sir, I am not. It’ll be fun, I promise! Plus, the benefit of the rain means there’s likely to be little to no press camped outside right now.” You urged. “Will you come with me, please?”

You weren’t one to use pity to get him to agree with your plans, but you couldn’t say it didn’t work whenever you did.

You failed to suppress your excitement when he reluctantly agreed to venture out in the dreary weather with you. 

“Fine, but do not expect this to be more than a one-time occurrence.” He grumbled, unable to hide the soft curl of a smile at the corner of his mouth.

As soon as you both stepped outside, you began to question if it really was a good idea to be out there. The sky had darkened significantly, hanging heavily with thick ominous clouds, and the rain was pouring down harder by the minute.

You stared at the dense sheets of water that fell from the sky while you stood under the tower’s overhang with Loki standing beside you. 

“So… this is a lot worse than I thought.” you dragged out with uncertainty. “I think you’re right, maybe we should do this tomorrow.”

You started to back away, ready to head back into the building and figure something else out, but Loki wasn’t having that.

“Oh, no you don’t.” 

He grabbed your arm, pulling you back towards the sidewalk. “You dragged me out of the comfort of my own space to venture out here, so we’re doing it.”

“But-”

“No rebuttals. This is what you wanted, right?” He tutted.

You were prepared to argue with him for however long it took, determined to not step one foot into the flooded path before you, but didn’t get the chance because you were suddenly pushed from under the shelter and into the pouring cold rain. Without your umbrella.

The shriek you let out was loud enough to scare any nearby people away.

“Loki!”

The large grin that was plastered on his face made you even more heated. 

“This isn’t funny!” you exclaimed, water dripping from your hair as you stood getting absolutely soaked in the rain. “I wasn’t ready!”

He paused in his laughter long enough to make a teasing remark at your expense. “I’m afraid you are now.”

“You think this is funny?” You hissed, watching him double over in laughter, still dry as can be as he lingered safely under the building’s overhang. “Let’s see how you like it.”

Determined to share the wetness of your rain-soaked figure with him, you advanced toward him, ready to pull him into an uncomfortable hug—but before you could do so, he disappeared right before your eyes.

You halted, letting out a confused sound. When you heard the familiar tone of Loki’s laughter you whipped your head to the side, seeing him standing a few feet away from you, still underneath the safety of the overhang.

You were about to ask how he had done that so fast, but quickly closed your mouth when you realized he was using his seidr.

“No fair! That’s cheating.” 

“Is it now?” He smirked.

You stood there glaring at him, plaguing your mind to come up with the best way to get past his magic. There weren’t many viable options, so you played the worst card of them all to get him within reaching distance.

Wrapping your arms around your body, you began to shiver, teeth chattering loudly. “I-If you ch-cheat that means…”

You cut yourself off, feigning a cough as if you were getting ill from the cold. “T-that means-.”

He was near you in an instant, features no longer displaying arrogance, but severe concern for you instead. It almost made you feel bad. Almost.

“What was I thinking? I should not have done that to you.” He pulled you close, waving a hand over your form. You blinked when you realized you were no longer wet. He had dried you completely.

“I am so sorry, Dove. Let’s get you inside before your chill worsens.”

You shook your head. “N-no I don’t w-want to.”

He frowned, tilting his head at you in bewilderment and that was your queue.

“I was trying to say that if you cheat,” your lips curved into a devious smile. “That means that I can too.”

Knowing it wasn’t going to be easy, you used all the strength in your body to force Loki from under the overhang.

To say he was shocked wouldn't even come close to capturing the utterly stupefied look on his face as he stood there, rigid and drenched by the rain. It was your turn to double over with laughter, having never seen him so completely caught off guard.

“You should see the look on your face!” you taunted, giggling madly. 

Slowly, he turned to you, eyes gleaming with a cold, calculating intensity. His usual calm, soft demeanor towards you was gone and it sent a chill up your spine.

“You little minx,” he growled ominously. “You are going to wish you’d never done that.”

Your eyes widened, and when he took a step towards you, you darted in the opposite direction, heading back out into the rain without much thought. The work that he did to dry you off had been completely undone as you ran through the heavy rainfall.

You could hear the sound of his rapid footsteps close behind you. He was right on your tail. Trying to think fast you took a sharp left into an alley, hoping to catch him off guard. You witness him run past without seeing you and you let out a large breath, wiping the water from your face and backing into the side of the building. 

Except, there was something else behind you. Someone else. Long, sinewy arms wrapped around your frame, and your sharp gasp was covered by a large hand.

His tone was silky as he leaned down to whisper into your ear. “Did you truly think it would be that easy?” 

You blinked, feeling mixed emotions of fear and something else you couldn’t really describe crawling up your spine. Something much different than usual.

He spun you around swiftly, pressing your back against the side of the building as his body crowded yours, his hands braced against the wall. 

You were both still breathing pretty heavily from the chase, but you wouldn’t let him think he won this one. The adrenaline in your body had you behaving in an unusual way.

“How dare you use those abysmal tactics to manipulate me? That was extremely deceptive of you. Though, I must admit it did take me by surprise. I’m impressed.”

“What can I say? I’ve learned from the best.” You stated cheekily, staring up at him in defiance. “Regardless, you’re the one who started this. I just finished it.”

“That is not what it looks like, at least not from my perspective,” he teased. 

“Of course, you’d think that. Now let me go so I can go inside and get dried. I feel like a soaked mess and I probably look even worse.”

His face softened at your words, an indiscernible expression crossing his face. A familiar one you had seen a few days before.

“What’s wrong?” you asked a worried frown of your own forming on your face.

He paused for a moment, his eyes tracing your features closely, following the path of the water droplets sliding down your cheek before he finally spoke.

“Would it truly be so unorthodox?” He breathed out.

“What exactly?”

He licked his lips before his eyes met yours again. “Would it truly be that absurd to believe that I would want you?”

You froze, your breath leaving your body as you took in his words. Eyes darting around in every direction, you tried to come up with an answer or a clever comeback, really anything that would suffice. But you were completely lost for words.

“Perhaps you are not truly hearing me when I speak about you, or do you not realize how beautiful you are, inside and out?”

You drew a quick, shallow breath, wide eyes meeting his intense green ones again. 

“It pains me to hear you speak of yourself so poorly as if you wouldn’t be worthy of me when it is the exact opposite, in fact.”

“Loki…”

“Any man would be lucky to have you regardless of your status or species. Anyone would jump at the chance to be with such an amazing woman, to call you theirs.”

He leaned down, face slowly inching closer to yours. “If only you could see how much of a gift you are, Gersemi.”

Your breath came faster, a lightheaded feeling creeping in as you held the gaze of the god before you. Each word he spoke, revealing exactly what he thought of you, left you reeling.

It felt like too much all at once, yet you couldn’t shake the feeling that this was what you’d wanted all along—even if you hadn’t realized it before, even if you’d refused to acknowledge it before

Your gaze drifted to his lips as your body instinctively leaned closer to his. When you looked back into his darkened eyes, a nervous expression crossed your face. It seemed to have the opposite effect you intended—he blinked, as though snapping himself out of a trance, and took a step back.

You swallowed heavily before letting out a long breath. You didn’t know if it was from relief or disappointment. Maybe a mix of both.

With a faint frown, Loki cleared his throat and glanced down at his shoes. ”We should get inside before you end up catching a cold,” he remarked quietly.

“Y-yeah.” you stammered, “I think you’re right.”

Then suddenly the rain stopped. You looked above you, seeing that it was raining around you, but not on you anymore. You looked at him questioningly.

“Wait, you’re telling me you could do this the whole time?” 

“Of course.” You felt your shoulders relax when his signature smirk appeared on his face. “But what fun would that have been?”

When you both arrived back at the tower you went your separate ways. You headed straight for your room to take a much needed long, hot shower. Your thoughts ran wild from your recent interaction with Loki in the alley outside. The things he said and how he said them had you shivering under the warm spray of the shower. It was as if he introduced something to you that had never crossed your mind. The fact that he seemed to already have come to that conclusion and you were just now catching up had you questioning how long he felt that way about you.

You were probably blowing it out of proportion. It was not like he confessed his undying love or desire for you, but it was sort of adjacent to that. You’re not exactly sure what it was, or if it was going to happen again. What you did know was that you needed some time and space to clear your head before you were ready to speak to him again.

When you exited the bathroom, you heard the familiar chirp of your phone. Picking it up, you saw it was a text from Tony.

Come down to my office, I have a surprise for you. Oh– and bring Loki too.

You frowned, wondering what kind of ‘surprise’ Tony had in store for you and what he was up to. You replied to him saying you’d be there in a few minutes and got dressed. You weren’t sure if Loki was ready to see you so soon either, but it had to be done.

You both walked to Tony’s office in complete silence. It wasn’t exactly awkward or uncomfortable, but it wasn’t normal either.

“Kid, Reindeer Games, come on in!” Tony called out cheerfully as you and Loki stepped into his office. “There’s someone that I want you to meet.”

You were surprised to find Steve sitting in one of the chairs in front of Tony’s desk. He turned to you, sending you a reassuring smile.

You almost didn’t notice the other person in the chair beside him–someone unfamiliar.

She was a brunette, and a very tall by the looks of it. You confirmed this when she stood up, smoothing down her dress before reaching a hand out to you. 

“This is Sarah. If things go well, she’ll be working with us for a while so please give her a warm welcome.”

“Oh, that’s great!” You said, shaking her hand with a grin. “What department will she be working in?” You couldn’t tell by the way she was dressed. She looked as if she should be walking in a Victoria's Secret fashion show by how gorgeous she was.

“Let’s just say she’ll be working very closely with you and Loki,” Tony smirked. “Especially Loki.”

You didn’t understand what he meant by that, not until you saw her shaking Loki’s hand, a wide grin spread across her pretty face.

“Nice to meet you both.” She said, “I’m Loki’s new girlfriend.”

**𝘳𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘢𝘭𝘦𝘳𝘵**: 𝘐 𝘸𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘣𝘢𝘤𝘬 𝘵𝘰 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥 𝘍&𝘊 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘨𝘪𝘯𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘪 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘢𝘺 𝘪𝘴 𝘫𝘦𝘴𝘶𝘴 𝘤𝘩𝘳𝘪𝘴𝘵. 𝘐’𝘮 𝘴𝘰 𝘨𝘭𝘢𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘮𝘺 𝘸𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘮𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘥 𝘣𝘦𝘤𝘢𝘶𝘴𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘢𝘮𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘨𝘳𝘢𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘤𝘢𝘭 𝘦𝘳𝘳𝘰𝘳𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘦𝘭𝘴𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘤𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘮𝘦 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘭𝘥. 𝘏𝘰𝘸𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳…. 𝘐’𝘮 𝘨𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘦𝘦 𝘋𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘓𝘰𝘬𝘪’𝘴 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘺 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘨𝘪𝘯𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘪𝘵’𝘴 𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺 𝘤𝘶𝘵𝘦. 𝘐𝘵’𝘴 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘪’𝘮 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘴𝘦𝘦𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘧𝘪𝘤 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘺𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘴 𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘴𝘰 𝘪𝘵’𝘴 𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘰𝘧 𝘤𝘰𝘰𝘭. 𝘐 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦𝘯’𝘵 𝘳𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘺 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘨𝘪𝘯𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘪 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘪𝘵 𝘴𝘰 𝘪𝘵 𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘭𝘴 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢 𝘯𝘦𝘸 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳.  𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘰𝘯 𝘐 𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘤𝘦𝘥 𝘮𝘺𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘧 𝘵𝘰 𝘥𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘣𝘦𝘤𝘢𝘶𝘴𝘦 𝘐 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘪𝘮𝘮𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘦 𝘮𝘺𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘧 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘺 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘦𝘦 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘐 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘢𝘪𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘧𝘰𝘳. 𝘐 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘧𝘪𝘤 𝘵𝘰 𝘨𝘰 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘢 𝘣𝘢𝘯𝘨 𝘴𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘮𝘦𝘢𝘯𝘴 𝘐 𝘨𝘰𝘵𝘵𝘢 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘬 𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘥–𝘢𝘯�� 𝘵𝘳𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘮𝘦, 𝘐 𝘢𝘮. 𝘈𝘯𝘺𝘸𝘢𝘺𝘴 𝘐 𝘩𝘰𝘱𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘨𝘶𝘺𝘴 𝘦𝘯𝘫𝘰𝘺𝘦𝘥. 𝘐 𝘤𝘢𝘯’𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘪𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘸𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘯𝘦𝘹𝘵 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘵𝘦𝘳. 𝘛𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘳𝘢𝘮𝘱𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘶𝘱 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 (𝘐’𝘮 𝘴𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘰𝘶𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦 𝘭𝘰𝘭). 𝘗𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘦 𝘵𝘦𝘭𝘭 𝘮𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘴 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘴, 𝘪 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮 𝘴𝘰 𝘮𝘶𝘤𝘩. 💚🥰 𝘗.𝘴. 𝘮𝘺 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘵𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘰𝘧 𝘎𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘦𝘮𝘪 𝘮𝘦𝘢𝘯𝘴 “𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘤𝘪𝘰𝘶𝘴” 𝘣𝘵𝘸 🤭

Story Masterlist

✦ 𝘚𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘮𝘺 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘬 𝘪𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘥𝘰. 𝘙𝘦𝘣𝘭𝘰𝘨𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘴 𝘮𝘰𝘵𝘪𝘷𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘸𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘦 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦 🤍

✦ 𝘐𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘦𝘯𝘫𝘰𝘺 𝘮𝘺 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘬 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘢𝘣𝘭𝘦 𝘵𝘰, 𝘱𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘴𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘴𝘶𝘱𝘱𝘰𝘳𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘮𝘦 𝘰𝘯 𝘒𝘰-𝘧𝘪 ✨: 𝘩𝘵𝘵𝘱𝘴://𝘬𝘰-𝘧𝘪.𝘤𝘰𝘮/𝘥𝘢𝘳𝘬𝘴𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘯𝘪𝘵𝘺24

𝘛𝘢𝘨 𝘓𝘪𝘴𝘵: @aintnooooway @mischief2sarawr @talesofadragon @cass0419 @lcolumbia1988 @timeladyrikaofgallifrey @echo-is-worth-more-than-2000  @juliannarayvenne

[pointocean]

black!cat reader and mattheo.

summary

when mattheo steals your seat, you decide to give him a little attitude, but he doesn’t appreciate your bratty behavior.

warnings

mdni!! smut, bicep choking, hair pulling, unprotected sex, p in v, public(ish) sex

“this movie’s so fuckin’ unrealistic!” pansy yells from the couch next to you as the two of you watch a cringey rom-com while sipping wine, shaking your heads and laughing at how stupid the characters are. “oh, by the way,” pansy begins, sitting up straight and looking at you from your loveseat. “i texted your little boyfriend and his friends. they’ll be here in like a minute.”

“sorry, what? who’s my boyfriend?” you look around the nearly empty room, the only things in it being bookshelves, a chair, a couch, and a tv. “how many people are coming?” you question pansy.

“three,” she sits up, leaning over her knees, eyes running over the tv screen.

you scoff and shake your head, standing up. “i’m going to the bathroom.” as you leave the room, you look around, looking for signs of breathing or footsteps and finding none. your shoes make a clacking noise against the floors of the castle, and you start to feel eyes on you. every time you look around, out the windows and down the halls, you see nothing.

when you return back to the common room, you find two people sitting next to pansy, and mattheo in the loveseat you were just in. you had a choice, you’d sit on the floor, or in someone’s lap, or you’d take your seat back. you stand in the doorway for a bit, watching the movie as pansy talks to the boys next to her and mattheo observes them. after a while, you get bored and choose to stand behind mattheo as he watches the movie, very aware of your presence.

“you know, it’s rude to not greet someone you know when you see them,” mattheo doesn’t turn to look at you, his legs spread as he leans back in the seat.

“it’s rude to steal someone’s seat. i’d like that back, please.” your voice is sweet, but there’s a hint of sarcasm in it. your hands move to his shoulders, leaning above him. he shakes his head and chuckles, leaning his head back to look up at you, a smirk on his face.

“how are you always on my fucking nerves?” mattheo’s eyes drift down to your tits, your chest right above his face.

you scoff and stand all the way up, rolling your eyes. “i just want my chair back.” your eyes wander down to his crossed arms, then back to his face.

“how about this?” mattheo begins, his head still hanging back to look at you. “you meet me in the closest broom closet, and when we get out, you can have your seat back.” he doesn’t wait for an answer from you. instead, he gets up and leaves the room right away. you wait for a few minutes before leaving, making sure no one sees you slip out of the room.

you look around, knowing that the closet is only a hall down. you open the door cautiously, stepping in, and mattheo grabs your hips and shuts the door, leaving the light off. he pushes you against the wall, your back to his front, placing open-mouthed kisses to your back. your hands are flat on the wall, back arched as you let out soft moans. “impatient, aren’t you?”

mattheo chuckles, ripping down your skirt and panties, his hands everywhere, roaming your body. he eagerly pulls down his pants, but you can’t see him enough to know what he’s doing. without a warning, he pushes himself into you, his hands on your hips as his mouth is all over your neck. you let out a loud cry, feeling him hit your g-spot over and over. “if you don’t shut up, everyone’s gonna know what we’re doing in here. you want that, though, don’t you, slut?” mattheo’s voice is low and husky in your ear, his lips moving to your shoulder as he sucks on it, leaving marks for sure.

his head dips all the way down to your chest, sucking on your skin. “i fucking hate you, you know that?” mattheo groans when he lifts his head from your chest, his words echoing in your ear as he fucks you against the wall, his thrusts only becoming more brutal. one of his arms comes around your neck, his bicep choking you as you let out a sobbing moan at how hard he’s pushing into you.

“you’re a fucking asshole,” you whimper, chest hitting the wall continuously.

“you’re being a fuckin’ brat about your goddamn loveseat, so i think you deserve this.”

“maybe if you weren’t so goddamn aggravating all the time, i’d be a little less of a brat, you dickhead!” you yell at him, pushing yourself back into him as he grips your hips a little harder, sure to leave bruises. “oh my fucking god, i’m close, harder!” you scream, not a hint of regret in your voice.

he takes your words into consideration, internally debating if he should go slower just to piss you off, or pound you into the wall harder. he knows how much you both need release, and he complies, moving his hips harder and faster into you. “open your mouth.” mattheo groans from behind you, your body still pressed up against a wall as you open your mouth and he shoves two fingers into it. with his other hand, he grabs a fistful of your hair, pulling your head back. “fucking look at me while you cum.” he growls down at you.

your eyes roll back in your head, but you manage to keep them open as you fall over the edge, looking up at him. you moan onto his fingers as he cages you to the wall.

he pulls his fingers from you mouth and lets go of your hair, his fingers running through it as he pulls out of you, gently pressing kisses to your shoulder. when mattheo backs up to pull up his pants and boxers, you bend over to pull your skirt and panties back to their original spots. you turn around, forgetting that you two were in complete dark. “oh, fuck!” you run into mattheo and hit your head on his chest, your hand reaching for the doorknob. “ouch.”

he chuckles behind you as he follows you back to the room where pansy and mattheo’s two friends are waiting.

“where the fuck did you guys go?”

[ilikekidsshows]

Let's be real, what weight does being called a salter by most Marinette stans even hold anymore? I'm not trying to be a bitch, I'm serious. What does that even mean anymore?

Marinette stans are more often than not very transparent with their priority being defending their made up version of Marinette. So their arguments barely ever hold up when put to the test because they don't care for what actually happens in Canon.

So why should I be offended by being called a salter and awful person by people who switch the moral approach of their argument on a dime flip every time a new episode drops? One day prior they chew you out for saying that Marinette will act jealous and sabotaging again because she never learned shit, and next day with the new information they turn around bending over backwards to justify why Marinette still acting that way is actually totally realistic and no problem at all.

Excuse me? How am I supposed to take you serious after that?

Or the way Marinette stans before Kwamis Choice swore and yelled from their self claimed moral high horse that Ladynoir will totally get fixed in season 5 and that Cat Noir was only sidelined so much because now season 5 will have Marinette dedicated to making it up to him and returning the partnership to one of equals again as Ladynoir becomes canon as pay off. Only for that to NOT have happened at all, so suddenly Marinette stans pulled a 180° and suddenly go on bout how there was nothing to fix anyway, and that accountability shouldn't always require immediate communication and effort to fix the unfair treatment. It's fine if that only happens in season 8 or 9, that's "realistic" and its what makes Adrien's support so "great". Because he understands that redeeming oneself shouldn't need to include... accountability... though of course only when it MARINETTE. Everyone else and Adrien in particular taking all accountability is just him being mature and fair to her uniquely stressful and soul crushing circumstances that make it unbearable for her to do the same in return.

She cries about being awful once or twice so no need for her to apologise or acknowledge or fix what she did wrong if she isn't comfortable with it yet. Don't you see how awful and cruel you are for saying that redeeming yourself needs of you to redeem yourself now? Dont you see that Adrien understands that Ladybug can't give anything right now and that his love language is selflessly serving her and wants nothing in return because that's the right thing to do in his position? She still loves and respects him so much, he just understands that she shouldn't need to show it if she needs to heal first through Adrien taking care of her.

Do you even understand the beautiful DEPTHS of redemption? And how long it takes sometimes to do so for a broken complex individual like Marinette? Seriously, in my made up season 10 all of that will have played out in a way where non of that will ever have been a problem, just stfu you don't GET it like I do 😒

This is an actual paraphrased conversation I had with a person who's opinion I once respected a lot and I wished my paraphrasing made it worse but honestly, that's exactly what they said. And I'm still taken aback that they said that. But they sure weren't the only Marinette stan I found saying things like that.

What the FUCK am I supposed to take from that besides the revelation that they just do not apply any kind of moral baseline to Marinette's character? What is there for me to respect?

Marinette stans say they are against bullying until Marinette does it or benefits from it. Then they openly romanticise and defend it with the only argument being "that wasn't bullying, Marinette wouldn't do that!" as if that changed what happened on screen. All it reveals is that Marinette stans' words don't mean anything, their moral standards are entirely dependent on who is doing it and benefiting from it. Thats not a moral standard, that's a biase you don't owe up to.

Marinette stans say they are against violence and abuse of power until Marinette does it or benefits from it. Then they will defend hypocrisy with whatever random excuse they come up with in that moment that more often than not is either "that doesn't count cuz I said so" or "it's fine that Marinette benefits from sexist double standards and a clear main character biase bc it is her show". Once again showing that they don't actually draw any kind of line moral wise for Marinette's actions and the writing, their opinion of said morality entirely depends on what works best for Marinette. And then they get angry when that gets called out.

I won't lie, I do think that some people in this collective therapy group here ARE to harsh sometime, but I can definitely respect that alot of them make it clear where they simply draw the morality line and they won't budge on their core beliefs the show is shitting on.

There is a massive difference between simply salting Marinette and angrily speaking up against something you think is genuinely morally wrong or harmful in a kid's show like this.

Alot of people I see around here say that they wished they could go back to liking the show, Marinette (or whatever character) the way they were once used to but simply can't because the show keeps on making whatever problems they had worse.

I don't necessarily always share the points of no return but I can fuck with the reasoning because it's a consistent angle they always stand by that goes beyond the complaint that their fav is simply not getting the special treatment or has hurt feelings. I can trust most Adrien stans I see who dislike or salt on Marinette to form a proper argument and a whole pov that stays consistent when you bring up other parts of the show.

I can't say that I've had the same experience with Marinette stans and for me it's obvious why. Marinette stans were never forced by the show to take a step back and lay down their core principles they won't budge on because Marinette always gets put first and that's what they care about the most.

They can say however they like that they don't support bullying, ableism and abuse, they are absolutely doing so with full chest voice for their Marinette biase, they are just not willing to reflect on that bc that would reveal to them that their made up Marinette isn't real.

They have no coherent moral baseline in their arguments, they're proudly hypocritical, and then get angry when you call them out for going back and forth on their moral "standards" in a discussion about moral principles.

What is there to respect anymore? Being called a salter by them has long started feeling like a compliment because for me it became synonymous with "isn't changing their option on a fucking whim the second a new episode dropped". And if that makes me a salter, then so be it. I'm not throwing my moral principles out of the window for a cuddled protagonist who's became the poster girl for harmful white feminism on kids tv.

---

The irony, when I went to my inbox to read this message I saw that a Marinette stan had also sent me an ableist insult. Some Marinette stans have no convictions or moral standards even for their own behavior, and the extreme individuals in the Marinette fandom never fail to prove the criticisms of them correct in a single harassing message. Like, of course they’re gonna excuse Marinette bullying people, they themselves would most likely do the same for petty reasons. I can be petty too, but my pettiness takes the form of me feeling immense moral superiority whenever I delete one of these little hate messages. Like, I might be a jerk about a fictional character, but at least I’m not a pathetic anonymous troll in someone’s inbox.

Marinette stans lie when they say they don't support bullying, because they excuse it when Marinette does it as well as when they themselves do it. Like, I’m not saying they’re all like this, I get these messages so rarely that there’s no way the entire Marinette fandom is full of assholes. Still, this isn’t the first time I got an anonymous message from some random hater right after I posted something spicy about Marinette and it isn’t the first time such a message included at least one example of ableism. It's just a fact that a lot of Marinette stans are hateful liars who spout ableism as soon as they can do it anonymously, so, like, why should we take anything they have to say seriously anyway? Every time a Marinette stan says: “I don't support bullying or harassment” there’s a high chance they actually mean: “until someone says something spicy about the flawless queen Marinette, then I’ll use bullying and harassment without hesitation”. We really shouldn’t care one bit what these people have to say, because they’ll say whatever suits their agenda of the day.

When I say I don’t support bullying or harassment, I mean it and I live by it. I don’t do it, because I don’t think anything can be solved by sending people hate mail, nor would I get any satisfaction from it. I don’t even want to encourage anyone else to do so. That’s part of the reason I invite people to send their gripes to me; this blog is already a Miraculous-negative space, so here people can put their grievances into words without anyone who’s just minding their business getting harassing messages, even when people send me stuff clearly inspired by a specific person or group. Like, Marinette stans can make a fuss about how we’re terrible people for discussing our gripes amongst ourselves, but we aren’t the ones harassing other people here.

Although, since I’m being honest here, I have to say I do agree on the harshness. I don't always agree with everything the anons who message me say 100%, but I try to focus on the parts I do agree with or have something to add to. I’ll even admit I sometimes look over a response draft and wonder if I’m being too harsh, but often I’m just not motivated to watch my tone. I know from past experiences that Marinette stans don’t care how you’re wording your criticisms, just the act of criticising Marinette makes you the bad guy.

[watchingwisteria]

listen there really was just something about how in the book, snow’s 3-page descent from hesitant lover boy to deluded mfer happens entirely in his mind. lucy gray gives him no indication whatsoever that she suspects him, that she’s going to leave or betray him. he’s just sitting quietly in the cabin waiting for her to return when that seed of calculated suspicion, which he has needed to survive the capitol, takes a hold of him and chokes the life out of any goodness left inside him. it really drives home your terror as a reader that “oh my god did he kill her? did she escape? what happened to her? why would he even think that?” in a way that when the movie had to adjust for visualization it lost some of that holy shit this guy has lost it emphasis.

[lotus-pear]

finally started p5 royal ‼️‼️‼️‼️

expect some royal trio art soon they are my dearly beloveds (minus akechi i hope he dies in this reality too)

[bramblesnbones]

this is a vi-centered ramble, but at this point I’m just throwing words out into the wind so pls correct me if I missed anything, or feel free to comment if you feel differently! I’m always down to think from a different angle

I haven’t fully processed the season as a whole yet so I don’t have a lot of concrete feelings about it, but I do think overall this season should have been spread out into two. Like I see what they were trying to do from a narrative perspective, but they sacrificed the actual build-up to those points due to the sheer quantity of what they were trying to fit within a 9 episode time frame.

Take the sex scene for example. In isolation, it’s an amazing scene that was beautifully done— I honestly do love it and it makes me incredibly happy that it exists. It’s the one thing I keep rewatching that doesn’t make me break down. But in the context of the show, the point they were trying to make by having Cait “break her out” again and then having Vi “reclaim” the cell space falls short, because there was no actual acknowledgement or development around Vi’s time in Stillwater nor the power imbalance between them with Cait as an enforcer/commander. (She hits her with the butt of her gun and we’re just gonna move on?? okay)

We don’t see Vi pushing back against Cait for her choices before that final ep3 fight either, which is out of character to begin with—like, I can see Vi deferring to Caitlyn because of her own guilt, but not without SOME pushback when it comes to gassing the undercity. And that’s the build-up that’s missing to make those choices feel real. We don’t see any of Vi’s internal conflict with her actions—with Cait’s actions—so it really just seems like her character has been disregarded at best, and at worst butchered.

(On another note, the “breakup” scene at the end of ep3 is a clear parallel to the end of s1 act1, right? With, assumably(correct me if I’m wrong), the purpose of showing that Vi is now in the place of act1 Powder. Where now she is being left behind and now “knows how powder feels”. But it was already her greatest regret? She’d already been stuck in Stillwater for 7 years?? She doesn’t need to see it from Powder’s perspective to suddenly understand it, she’s been carrying the weight of that guilt since it happened. So why frame it like that at all??)

As a diehard Vi fan, it really did feel like they were just punishing her this season. Like of course I’m biased, but she just kept taking hit after hit after hit and there was no actual acknowledgment or progression in regards to her trauma? the most we got was the 2-minute pit fighter spiral and her breakdown in ep9, and even then there’s not actually much time given to it? And it’s clear that they CAN handle showing trauma beautifully because Jinx’s PTSD was very clear and well explored in s1.

But Vi hasn’t actually developed as a character this season.

She’s still in the same mental place she was before—she’s still self-destructive, self-sacrificing, and she’s still drinking to cope at the end???? She hasn’t learned to live for herself at all and she’s still very clearly blaming herself— “I choose wrong every time. And because of it, I've lost everyone”.

And Jinx forcibly cutting Vi loose from her isn’t my least favorite narrative choice—I actually think it is a fitting choice for them, as heartbroken as I am—but in the end, not only is autonomy being taken away from Vi AGAIN, we don’t actually get to see any development from that choice.

She’s with Caitlyn, so she’s got more support than she did the last time she lost everyone, but who’s to say she won’t fall right back to her old cycle? To throwing her whole self into Caitlyn, making her her whole point of worth? Because VI isn’t the one who made the choice to separate, Jinx is. And we’ve already seen what Vi does to herself when she’s suddenly & forcibly left without anyone to tend to/protect.

There’s more I could say but my brain is still scrambled and I wanted to keep this as short as possible lol. But TLDR— I feel like the biggest fault of the season (and Vi’s writing by extension) is the missing build-up & the amount of time they had compared to how much they wanted to fit into the series.

There’s just SO MUCH missing development in this season and I think it really hurt the final product. A lot of scenes and moments would’ve benefitted from more focus/introspection & the overall narrative would’ve hit harder and landed a lot better.

@blog-i-hate-friday

[emry-stars-art]

PSA since I keep going through my inbox like a kid on christmas: I see your asks, I will not ignore them forever, I SWEAR I’m getting to them they’re just TOO GOOD TO RUSH/DO HALFWAY. stop having good ideas and I’ll stop having to do them justice /j

[no1ryomafan]

I don’t know what the release status will be of my Komyoji and Saotome family essay since a lot of people still need to read it-plus if I do another long form post on here it should be another damn lyric analysis on deep red or burn the run cause I’m slacking 💀-before I can really finalize it but one thing I do have to spoil about it is I’m low key sad after seeing how Mitsuko was handled that New Michiru feels less like a improvement of her character and just “she’s different because she felt like it ig??”

I don’t wanna downplay New Michiru as is she still the first iteration since toei of her to be an actual character? Absolutely, but I feel selling her as the best iteration is a little much when the writers didn’t use her enough in the story since she still is JUST a supporting character who doesn’t really get a character arc and also her personality being changed doesn’t really give her any benefits. Like don’t get me wrong Michiru being mean is FUN, but it feels like it was only done to give her more of a personality then uwu nice girl even though Mitsuko demonstrates you can still make that archetype compelling. But ultimately her being meaner also serves her from being less forgettable cause otherwise she barely needs to be in this story, like you can sadly take her out of New and not a whole lot would actually change.

…New Getter still peak tho.

[shiredded]

Just finished the Very Long Commercial for League of legends

[starstuc]

a female character will go through the worst trauma even known to a man and everyone will downplay it and always say how a man character had it worse or just ignore everything a female character went through

[thatruerealmwalker]

HEY BOYS- I'M BACK!

Have some good food friends! Hope you like it, came right off the stove!

[tonycries]

Hope They Catch Us - G.S.

Synopsis. When you’re on-screen, it’s always a rivalry to see who’s best - you just never thought that it would be the same struggle in bed.

Pairing. Actor! Gojo Satoru x Co-Star! Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, rivals-to-lovers, co-stars to lovers, unprotected, oral (fem receiving) slight exhíbitionism (stuff with cameras), marking, praise, Satoru is actually down BAD, cúmplay, tabloids, lowkey fluffy at the end, pet names, swearing.

Word count. 5.5k

A/N. YA GIRL IS BACKKKK ;D Also happy belated three months to this blog hehehe.

Lights, Camera, Drama: Gojo Satoru and Leading Lady’s Off-Screen Feud to SINK Box Office Darling?

“They’ll Kill Each Other!” Insider Source Spills All on the Royal Rivalry Between Hollywood’s Hottest Bachelor and Bachelorette.

Enemies of The Century or Publicity Stunt? Recent Cast Outings Sets Fans Speculating!

---

You hated him. Oh, how you hated him. All because of a red-hot rivalry that had sparked ever since the two of you took the industry by storm. And everyone from Hollywood’s bigshots to your adoring fans knew that no matter where Gojo Satoru goes, you were sure to never be within a ten-mile radius. 

Well, usually. 

“I…shit- I’m in love with you.” 

Because avoiding Gojo like a plague really isn’t saying much when said plague was currently sitting right next to you. Eyes boring into yours, signature smirk plastered on his face while he rattles off a disgustingly sweet confession - all on the set of your latest movie. 

Somehow, in a cruel twist of fate, your co-star. 

And to add insult to injury, this wasn’t just any movie - it was only set to be the biggest romance film of the summer. So not only did you hate to tolerate Gojo, you had to pretend to be in love with him. 

Perfect. Great. Wonderful. If only the check wasn’t as tempting as it was, you think he would’ve successfully driven you to an aneurysm already. Especially considering that the scene tomorrow was-

“CUT!” 

That snaps you out of your little reverie, bringing you back to the still very ongoing film shooting. You risk a glance at the disgruntled director, cheeks aching from the sappy fake smile you had to hold for this scene.

“Something wrong?” you bat your lashes deceivingly innocently. You knew exactly what was wrong. And one look at Gojo - dressed to the nines and huffing sulkily at being interrupted in the middle of his monologue - told you that he did as well.

“It just doesn’t feel real.” The director shuffles his script, voice dropping to a sigh at your confused gazes. “The spark, it doesn't feel real.”

“What?” you silently thank your years of acting for keeping your voice steady. You squirm in your seat the longer the silence stretches. This cozy little café they rented out too tight, Gojo’s fingers intertwined with yours too hot. Too soft. 

“C’mon. You are in the perfect romantic set-up.” the other man gestures wearily at the café, at the dim-lighting and the proximity of your seats. “So why do you two look like you want to just- strangle each other?”

“Ooo kinky~”

It’s the first time Gojo’s spoken up since the scene was ended early and honestly that was enough to have you fulfilling the director’s suspicions. 

“That.” you give him a pointed stare. “That is probably why.”

And that just draws out such an infuriatingly light chuckle from Gojo, as he sprawls all over his chair with the audacity of someone that owned this entire set. “Lighten up. You’ve told us, n’ in the next take I’ll fix it. Easy peasy.”

If only it was that “easy peasy”. The director was anything but satisfied, running a hand through his hair frustratedly. “It’s not just me, even the public is worried whether your ‘feud’ will get in the way of such intimate scenes. You-” he jabs a finger your way. “-better pretend like you want to kiss him senseless and you-” whirling now to Gojo. “-better act like you’ve wanted nothing more for years- Not to mention tomorrow’s sex scene-”

Ah, right. The sex scene. 

How could you forget? It might not be a walk in the park to giggle and make heart-eyes at Gojo, but to actually pretend to have sex with him? All on camera? Curse whoever wrote this damn script. You could’ve almost laughed at the universe’s absolutely awful sense of humor if it hadn’t been for your paycheck - and the next words that tumble out of Gojo’s pretty mouth. 

“We’ll ace it, you just watch.” 

You hurriedly snap your eyes to meet Gojo’s, sending him a look that says “behave”, in a way that very much makes him not want to. Twinkling with such dangerous mischief that makes your stomach flip as he hums, “Or- I’ll ace it.”

God, was it a battle to remain professional. The only thing stopping you from snapping back being the way he squeezes your hand mockingly reassuringly - to which you send him a death grip back, of course. 

“Oh? Care to elaborate, Mr. Gojo?” the director asks, eyes flitting between the two of you. And you can’t even laugh at the rest of the staff for almost toppling out of their seats in an attempt to hear his answer - because you are, too. Mind whirling as you lean closer, wondering just what nonsense would come out of Gojo’s mouth. 

“Well, you could say…” he trails off suspensefully, like the smug bastard he is. Looking right in your eyes as he flashes an unfairly pretty smile your way. “I’m irresistible like that.”

Exactly the type of nonsense that would come out of Gojo Satoru, of course. And one glance at the director told you he was thinking the same thing. He was going to be the death of you. You can’t help but breathe out shrilly, “You fucking-”

“My apologies, director, but our leads have a scheduled interview soon. Rest assured, we will be early on set for filming tomorrow.”

You were definitely giving Nanami a raise after this. 

Because if looks could kill then Gojo would be six feet under and you’d be dancing on his grace already - and you let him know. A little over twenty times, actually, as the both of you are hastily escorted away from the set for an “emergency interview”. 

It was a flimsy excuse, you both knew, but Nanami hadn’t exactly felt like cleaning up a crime scene today. Instead, settling for a swift escape, the director calling out after you two to “Look like you’re gonna rip the clothes off each other tomorrow.”

Rip the clothes off each other, huh?

With the way things were going, you couldn’t be surprised if you ripped him a new-

“C’mon, sweetheart~” Gojo gets out through giggles, that familiar cackle echoing in the narrow hallway leading to your trailer. “Y’know I was just having a little fun with that ol’ man.”

He saunters unhurriedly behind your brisk pace, easily blocking the way you swing the door shut in his face. Letting it shut with such infuriatingly smooth nonchalance. 

“Fun?” you scoff, jabbing an accusing finger right in the middle of his sculpted chest.“Do you even realize the mess you could’ve made?”

“Easy there, m’not insured for these pecs just yet.” Gojo clasps your hands together. Some strange little part of your skin burning at the touch in- anger? Something else? But you don’t think too hard about it, because he’s plowing on, “Besides, a little teasing never hurt anyone.”

Such a shame he was so pretty with the stupidest mouth.

“A little teasing? You practically declared to everyone in that room that we’re gonna fuck this up.” you move to pull him down by the collar instead, clearly unimpressed.

But oh you shouldn’t have done that - because he’s so close now. Too close. Hot breath fanning your face, looking so smug as he murmurs unrepentantly, “Do you?” Chuckling lightly at your little head tilt, “Do you think we’ll fuck it up?”

You clench your jaw, trying to keep it all together. “...No.”

“Exactly. We’re good then.” he winks. 

“No. We’re not fucking ‘good’.” you grit out. Wondering exactly how difficult it might be to bother the director into completely recasting the male lead for the movie. Looking up at that million dollar smile and- yeah, it would be very difficult. “You’re so insufferable. I don’t know why they cast you.” 

“My good looks? My charisma? The way I’m the-” he trails off with a sigh at your glare. “Well, you’re not exactly a ray of sunshine, sweetheart.”

“At least I can act and-.”

He whines dramatically, cutting off your rant. “Me too!” 

This conversation was so ridiculous - but, hey, the great Gojo Satoru always did bring out the worst parts of you. 

“Nuh uh.” 

“Yuh uh.” 

“Then why are you so stiff when acting like you’re in love with me?”

Somehow, that makes Gojo shut up. Mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water - gasping out a strangled little, “B-because- well-” And if you didn’t know any better you’d say that was a light blush dusting his ears.

Only for a split-second, though, because he’s grabbing you gently by your shoulders, more seriously than you’d ever seen him. “Fine. Listen, we both want the same thing right? To have pretend-sex and ace this film to win like five Oscars?”

And maybe at the heat of his newfound proximity, maybe at the way he was looking at you so goddamn intensely - you feel something hot and prickly pooling in your stomach. Swallowing thickly, you manage to get out, “I’ll be the one winning the Oscars...but yes.”

Gojo’s gaze roams all over you - from the quirk of your eyebrow to the dress hugging you so sinfully tight. “Then we’ll do it. Ace the scene.”

Traitorously, a shiver runs down your spine. And because the universe loves to play jokes on you, Gojo notices - of course, he does. Eyes lighting up with amusement and something you really didn’t want to decipher as you blink up questioningly, “How?”

“Method acting, silly.” he rolls his eyes, as if he wasn’t implying something that wasn’t seen in even the cheesiest of romcoms. “Think of it as running lines.”

If there was ever a moment where your life flashed behind your eyes then this just might be it. 

“You-” you gulp, so hot all over. “You better shut the fuck up and pray your face is insured because-”

At this, Gojo throws his head back and laughs - loud and boisterous. And usually you’d have a thing or two to say about keeping his voice down so as not to let anyone outside hear, but shit you were mesmerized. Damn, a weird little part of you kind of understood why directors loved him onscreen. 

“Feisty,” he muses. “But how can I shut the fuck up when they’re second-guessing the two best actors in the game?” 

“The best? Me, maybe.” you lean in closer, mouth as bitchy as ever - even when you’re so obviously crumbling bit by bit under his gaze. And he knew that. “But not you.”

“Well, only way to find out is with tomorrow’s scene, right, sweetheart?” 

He drove you mad - everything from his heady cologne, to the way that overpriced button-up clung to him like second skin. But, don’t pull away - how could you? Not when he inches closer ever-so-slightly. Not when he lets those overpriced glasses slide down his nose, eyes locked so heavily on you.

Fighting to keep your words steady, “There’s nothing special about that scene, just fake moan in front of the camera, right? We don’t need any…‘method acting’.”

Gojo only raises a brow in amusement, lips curling into a grin that really makes you too aware of his little dimple by the corner. “Then why…” His eyes flicker down from his hands, searing on your shoulders, to yours - still grabbing his collar, just grazing the soft skin of his neck. Not pulling away. “...can’t you let go of me, sweetheart?”

And then you’re kissing him - or maybe he’s kissing you, you really don’t give a fuck. The only thing running through your mind being that shit this was Gojo bane-of-your-existence Satoru, and he tasted so…sweet. Like those cheap lollipops he often snuck on-set. Strawberry, you think.

But you don’t get to confirm, because suddenly he’s pulling away mere millimeters. Whispering hotly, absolutely dripping with something dangerous, “Sooo, is that a ‘yes’ to running lines?”

“Ugh, shut up.” your lips ghost his. “And just fucking kiss me.”

And, well, Gojo doesn’t have to be asked twice. Because it only takes a split second for his lips to find yours again. 

Yeah, definitely strawberry lollipops.

You hadn’t filmed any of the kissing scenes just yet, but damn you didn’t expect him to be so hot and messy - like he was drunk off of you. Licking at the seam of your candied lips, groaning softly like he wanted more more more-

“Sh-shit, Goj-” 

“Call me ‘Satoru’ when we’re fucking.” he cuts you off. “Or, my bad. When we’re ‘running lines’.” 

Shameless. Though, you guess you weren’t any better - not as you press yourself closer running your hands all over his sinfully thin shirt, feeling every bump and curve of his abs. “You talk too much, Toru.” you hiss, muffled against his lips. 

Oh that cute lil’ nickname had all the blood rushing to Satoru’s cock, you were so unfair. 

“You little minx.” Like a little punishment, he’s biting down on your bottom lip, tugging lightly at your surprised squeal. “You’re gonna regret that.”

“Hmm, I doubt it.”

And then your back is hitting the couch before you can react, bouncing lightly at the sheer force. And you’re so swept up in him - the way he hovers over you, arms looping around your waist, his knee wedging between your legs - that it almost hurts for you to pull away.

“Patience.” you huff out a laugh at Satoru’s disappointed whine, eyeing those pretty pink lips mere inches away from you. You just wanted them on yours. So badly. But no, there was something more important you had to do right now. “Jus’ thought we should record our little rehearsal, whaddaya think?”

“Record it?”

“Record it.”

“Record it, hmmm?” he’s whispering, more to himself than you. Fumbling with the zipper of your dress. “So you’re sayin’ we tape it, let the camera see how pretty you look all fallin’ apart f’me.” Kissing down your neck, letting the flimsy fabric fall down, “N’ then we improve for the pretend sex. Shut all those snobby directors up by giving them the best fucking sex scene they’ve ever seen.”

“Y-yes?” you mutter, as he starts tweaking your hardened nipples through your bra, clearly having way too much fun with this. “Unless-”

“Fine by me.”

The fabric hits the floor before you even realize what’s happening. Head spinning too much from the idea of being fucked on camera - by Satoru of all people, it takes you a second to realize that this bastard fucking ripped your dress off. 

“You probably broke-” 

“I’ll buy you a new one.” muffled, as he kisses down your navel, blindly fumbling with his phone. 

“It was expensive.”

With an impatient sigh, Satoru sets the camera up on the coffee table beside the couch. “Five new ones.” Angling it just right to perfectly capture you - in all your disheveled, horny glory, and Satoru, smugly seating himself between your thighs. 

“Ready?” he asks, finger hovering over that damn red button.

Well, it’s just for rehearsal, right? Right? 

“Do it.” you manage to get out, voice getting stuck in your throat at the faint ding! that rings throughout the heady room. “For my Oscars?”

“For my Oscars. N’the camera’s gonna know.”

And whatever retort on the tip of your tongue dies when he rocks his hip against yours, grinding his cock against your soaked panties. Rock-hard and so damp with precum already - so big that any and all rational thinking flies out the window.

Which is probably why you’re letting out such a pretty gasp, ‘S-Satoru, I want-“

“What?” And Satoru only flashes you a devilish grin, hands spreading your legs as far as they’d go on the couch. “This?”

He licks a long, long stripe up your inner thigh, all the way till he just meets the hem of your drenched panties. Teasing. So hot and depraved in the way he breathes in your scent. 

“Oh fuck, sweetheart.” Satoru grunts, looking down in awe at the damp fabric, so flimsy and see-through with your sweet juices. You slick beading through so sloppily, just a hint of the state you were in. “You don’t know how you drive me mad.”

Rip! 

He’s so fucking starved that he’s just tearing your poor panties clean off. Throwing them behind him to God-knows-where before spreading your swollen folds with his thumb, showing off just how wet you were for him. 

“You’re a tease.”

“And you’re fucking addictive. Look how fuckin’ wet you are. For who, huh?” he slurs, breath hot against your cunt. Circling your entrance just barely with his fingertip, teasing you like he was addicted to those frustrated moans coming out of your pretty lips. 

“S’for you-” you whine, “All for you, Satoru.”

“Exactly what I wanted to hear.”

And that’s all that needs to be said before he’s burying himself nose-deep. Drunk off your pussy as he licks long, languid movements. And it wasn’t enough - never might be, actually, because only one taste and Satoru was like a man possessed. 

Bullying his tongue between your folds, just dipping into your sloppy hole in a way that had your slick smearing all over his pretty face. Letting out such deep groans that had you clenching around his hot tongue. 

Shit, if you knew that this was the way to shut up the great Gojo Satoru then you would’ve done it a lot sooner. Because for one in his life, Satoru’s too entranced with something else to run his mouth, so fucking satisfied between your thighs. 

“Fuck- hah- think I like you better w-when hngh- you’re like this, Toru.” you purr, breath hitching as he bullies his tongue between your folds. 

Maybe you were an idiot - maybe you were a genius, because that only sets him off more. 

And suddenly Satoru’s pulling your body closer onto his hot mouth, like you were weighless. Pushing himself so impossibly closer while he makes out deeper with your wet cunt. 

“Ah! Hngh- Satoru-” you keen, tugging at his soft locks. As delirious as Satoru was pussydrunk. Drinking in all your cute lil’ whines of his name, angling your hips to lick all over like he couldn’t decide between fucking your sloppy hole or toying with your poor, ravaged clit. 

“Mhm?” he murmurs, the vibrations making you squeal.  Eyes rolling to the back of his head as lets your sweet juices slide down his throat. “Ya like this?” Stretching you out on his tongue, thrusting in and out of your sloppy hole. Over and over- “Like when I tonguefuck your pretty pussy?”

“Ngh- love it- s’good. Ah fillin’ me up s’good.” you squeal, bucking your hips desperately into his pretty face, broken little whimpers leaving you at each rough push of Satoru’s tongue. 

And oh Satoru thinks he wouldn’t mind being on his knees every day if it meant he got to taste you like this. “Tell the camera too, sweetheart. Practice how you’ll come around my tongue.”

Those words send a jolt up your spine - or maybe it was the way Satoru was sucking harshly on your clit. “F-fuck off.”

“Mhmmm, n’ this is why I’m the better actor..”

Ugh, this fucker. And with that you fight to turn your head - looking right in the camera. Feeling so fucking lewd as you let out such pornographic moans.

“Yeah- feel s’good.” you whimper, “Wanted this for so long, ever since I first saw- ngh- you-”

And shit were you so fucking evil - at least warn a guy! Because that has Satoru’s heart lurching, almost jumping up from between your legs before it hits him with a pang - ah, right, you were just quoting your character’s lines. Of course.

Well, two can play that game.

“Yeah?” he mutters into your folds. Two fingers plunging knuckle-deep in your pussy, massaging your plushy walls. Roaming around for that one spot he knows will have you falling apart so deliciously. “Can’t believe I waited s’fucking long. Y’know how hard it was to hold back? With you wearing all those slutty skirts f’me?”

Your body is jerking violently, both at his - practiced - words, and the way he was devouring you like you were his favorite meal. His favorite taste.

So eager and in-character with the way he was setting such a dizzying pace on your poor cunt. Slick trailing down from his fingers, all the way to his wrist. So sloppy and- Pressing down. Hard. “Found it.”

And you can only sit there and take it, such cute little whines of Satoru’s name leaving you as he leaves no mercy. Jaw grinding deeper and deeper, maddening. Aching as he rolls and swirls his tongue against your clit over and over. And you were so-

“Close?” Satoru’s grunting and smacking his lips against your own. Truthfully, he didn’t even have to ask - if the way you were trembling and squeezing so fucking tightly around him was anything to go by. “Go on darling. scream my name. Show off f’the camera like you do best.”

“Sh-shit. Toru- fuck yes-” you’ve got an iron-tight grip on his hair now, pulling and angling him as you pleased for more. Barely able to let out those strained lil’ moans, definitely not with the way he’s dragging your sloppy pussy all over his face. Fingers cramping up from how rough he was going - but still not stopping. 

“Go on. Cum f’me.”

And then you are. Letting out such a teary, strangled moan of Satoru’s name as you cum all over his face. 

And it’s not just for the camera either - because this orgasm is probably the best one you’ve had in a while. So hard that you don’t even realize you’re arching and rocking your hips into Satoru, white-hot pleasure behind your eyes, blood roaring in your ears. Using him. 

And he doesn’t stop you. Why would he? You were so pretty falling apart all because of him. He wishes he could see this more often…

“S-Satoru.” you mewl, overstimulated. Jolting with each flick of his tongue, trying to close your legs but you can’t - he won’t let you. Greedily lapping up all your sweet juices, everything that you give him. 

“Nope.” he drawls, finally pulling away, delicate strings of your slick snapping as he does. Looking so fucking drunk off of you that it makes your cunt quiver exhaustedly. “C’mon now, sweetheart, you were s’pposed to say my character’s name. S’how the scene goes.”

Oh. Shit, you got too caught up. But one look at Satoru - eyes half-lidded, hair disheveled, your juices glistening all over the bottom half of his face so prettily - tells you he was much the same. 

“Well…” you huff, voice shot. “According to the script you were supposed to stuff that-” pointedly eyeing the achingly hard cock straining his pants, “-in my mouth first before eating me out. So here we are.”

With a chuckle, he rises slowly. “Touché.” Looking you straight in the eyes - and probably into your very soul - as he pops his fingers into his mouth. One by one. Groaning at the taste of your sweet sweet juices while he sucks them clean. “But I don’t think I’d last one second with those pretty lips wrapped around my cock.”

And it almost makes you want to tease him for it - one of Hollywood’s biggest It Boys but you can’t handle a lil’ blowjob? But all of that gets stuck in your throat as Satoru starts peeling off his shirt ever-so-slowly. 

Shit, you think. All mouthwatering curves and dips, all the way from his toned, milky shoulders down, down, down to those neat tufts of white peeking out from the hem of his underwear. Sculpted like he was handcrafted so meticulously - a fucking masterpiece, you had to admit. 

One that made you wish you took a longer look at all those shirtless magazine covers instead of throwing them out. One that had your thighs squeezing in such anticipation.

And Satoru seemed to be admiring you just the same, eyes locked on your pussy, the way it glistens and clenches around nothing - so ready for him. Distinctly aware of how pathetically needy you were being in front of the blinking camera, you crane your head to glance at it. Was it really capturing-

“Now now, first rule is to never look at the camera during this scene.” Only for Satoru to squish your cheeks together, forcing you into an embarrassing little pout as he turns you back to face him. “Look at me.”

And oh you can’t not look at him. 

Especially when he tugs his pants down, just enough that his throbbing cock springs out, so fucking long and pretty. Smearing glossy precum all over his abs, flushed your favorite shade of pink, rock-hard and so so angry. Shit, he was so hard it looked like it hurt. 

“Satoru…” you breathe, legs wrapping around his slutty waist to pull him closer. Only needier despite that little nagging voice wondering how the fuck you’d take his sheer size.

“Sweetheart?”

“I remember he didn’t do a lot of waiting in the script.”

And God were you right - but Satoru doesn’t think he could’ve kept this act of restraint up any longer even if you weren’t. Too impatient, too starved, his sanity dancing away from him with each second his fat cock wasn’t stuffed inside your pretty cunt. 

“Mhm.” he purrs, one hand reaching down to drag his fat head up and down your slit. Heavy balls squeezing painfully at the way your lip wobbles in frustration. Up and down up and up and- “You’re right.”

And then it’s like something snaps.

Because it only takes a split-second for Satoru to start splitting you apart on his massive cock. Big fat tears pricking at your eyes at the feeling that he was pushing all the way into your lungs. 

“Sh-shit, s’fuckin’ tight-” he lets out a low grunt at the slight resistance, taking everything in him to not just fuck into your snug pussy and use you like his little plaything. “You gotta hah- relax, pretty girl.”

You needed to relax more - to breathe maybe, just something. You weren’t even in the right state to wonder whether that little nickname was in the script - and God was Satoru thankful for that. Because all you can think of is how you never imagined what the bane of your existence would look with his cock stuffed in your dripping cunt - but now that you’ve seen it, you think you’ll imagine it for many lonely nights to come. 

“Hey, now. Don’t get camera-shy just yet.” Satoru gives your ass a playful smack. “After all, this is only the best- part-”

Each word is punctuated with shallow, mindless little thrust to fit himself inside your dripping pussy. Such cute lil’ whines leaving your swollen lips that he really can’t help but tease you a bit. Leering down at your fucked-out face with a smirk, “Or- my bad. Forgot such a scene would be hard for a rookie.”

Oh, did he know how to press your buttons just right. 

Because immediately, you’re blinking away the delirious haze in your eyes, voice so adorably shaky - but determined - as you grit out, “Bring it on, you B-list wonder.”

That’s all that has to be said before he’s finally bottoming out inside you, mercilessly. Inch by fucking inch. You gasp as his twitching balls smack your ass so lewdly, feeling his veins beat in such a slutty lil’ thump! thump! thump! against your heavenly walls. 

“T-Toru- big- ngh- too fuckin’ big. M’gonna break mpf-” his lips claim yours. Partially because it’s been way too long since he’s kissed your pretty lips, and partially because Satoru might just cum right then and there if he let you run your mouth. 

So he lets his hips do the talking instead. 

Cooing into your mouth at each little ah! ah! ah! every time he stuffed you full of his dick, quick, experimental thrusts to try and find that one spot he knows will have you falling apart so prettily.

“Sounds so beautiful, sweetheart.” rocking his hips faster into yours. So hard you were sure he’d leave marks. “No camera in the world can pick up how fuckin’ perfect ya are. Can’t ngh- pick up those cockdrunk lil’ heart eyes.” Angling your chin just so that your sinful expression is caught on camera, “Shit do ya even know you’re doing those? Might just make me lose it for real tomorrow. Might just make me sneak you off to the dressing rooms n’-” Manicured fingers digging into your hips while he fucks you in jagged, purposeful strokes. Hitting that one spot. Hard. “Fuck you all over again.”

You flinch as he uses you like some object. Dangerously liking it more and more as he smugly hits that magical spot over and over- 

And it was so sloppy - so filthy with the way Satoru still had remnants of your slick all over his lips, matching the way you were soaking his cock. Fingers moving down to draw erratic little patterns on your clit, making it even messier. 

Close - too close. 

So, so desperate and debauched.

“C’mon. Show the camera. Tell the camera how much you love it.” 

“Ngh- f-fuck you.”

“Oh? Who’s fucking who now?” he’s laughing at your absolutely wrecked state. You can feel Satoru twitch inside you as you mumble out such delirious little praises to the camera - were they coherent sentences? You’ll never know, because the next words that fall from his lips have your mind reeling. 

“God, m’addicted to you, my girl.”

“That’s not- ah- in the script, Toru.” you hiss. Close. 

“I know. And neither is that.” he leaves such uncharacteristically gentle kisses down your neck. Miles away from the relentless place on your poor, abused pussy, fucking you deeper and rougher every time despite already bottoming out. “Does it have to be?”

“Th-that doesn’t ngh- make sense.” you gasp into his open mouth. 

“Doesn’t have to.”

Maybe it’s the way Satoru’s panting those words against your lips. Or maybe it’s the way he’s looking right in your eyes while he says them - like it would kill him to pull away. Maybe even that fleeting little kiss he leaves against your lips. 

Because before you know it, you’re cumming and cumming so hard that you wonder whether you’d make it out alive. The only thing you can do is throw your head back and take it, thighs quivering, Satoru’s names spilling from your lips in such broken little whines while he thrusts so sloppy. Once. Twice. 

“Ah- this is gonna have me fallin’, huh?” And then he’s letting out such a low, muffled moan of your name, filling you up with rope after rope of his cum. 

What? 

It’s so messy - his cum overfilling your poor pussy, spilling out and coating his twitching balls. Shit, you can’t even worry about whether it would stain that overpriced couch below you. Not when Satoru’s whispering out sweet- lines from the script?

“Fuckin’ beautiful underneath me. Always was.” Hips still fucking into you - not even thinking at this point. “Always will be. Such a vision onscreen, sweetheart.” So thick and hot, and dribbling all the way down your legs with every movement.

And then Satoru’s lips are finding yours again, tasting so unfairly sweet while he drinks in all your cute breathless gasps. “Such a vision f’me.”

Those weren’t from the script either.

Something soft. Something scary. Something that has you looping your legs tighter around his waist, letting him collapse onto you. Pulling him closer, in fact, because now that you know the weight of his body on yours, it just felt so right.

It takes a moment of silence for you two to catch your breaths, the still rolling camera being the last thing on your minds. Neither willing to speak first, because shit Satoru might’ve gone to countless red carpets and film sets but this - you are what strips him away from all the glamor and fame. Until he was just, well, embarrassingly Satoru.

The Satoru that was now shifting shyly in your arms, trying to get up. “Uh- Hell of a way to run lines, huh? Better check the camera n’ see where to impro-”

He might be one of the biggest actors in modern Hollywood, but Satoru didn’t fool you - not one bit. So without a word, you’re tugging him back to rest against you. Heart lurching just a little bit as he buries his face in the crook of your neck. Like a little hideaway - from the camera, from the world, hell, maybe even from you.

“Y’know,” he flinches ever-so-slightly at your teasing tone, giving you a playful bite. “I have one area of suggestion and it might just be that you’re too good at ‘running lines’.”

“...Good enough to win those five Oscars?”

“No.”

“Then guess I better prove it to ya, huh? Is the camera still on, sweetheart?”

Just then, some weird little part of you thinks that, hell, maybe you don’t hate Gojo Satoru after all.

Not anymore, at least. 

---

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