#ignore the crumpled paper
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#beast wars#transformers#bw rampage#dinobot#b's junk#ignore the crumpled paper#Accidentally crumpled my notebook when stuffing my stuffing my bag
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some sketches from months ago
#satzuarts#i'm busy right now so i miss drawing them#most of these are before i changed my WX-78 design and a bit of my Woodrow's design#ignore how the paper is crumpled#that's my cat's fault
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I love Butters so much I'm gonna cry and throw up and explode.
#seriously my chest hurts because my heart can't hold all the love i have for him#the most specialest boy in the universe#does he know how loved he is?#does he understand i'd die for him but more importantly i'd live for him?#is he aware of just how important he is?#he holds my entire heart in his tiny construction paper hand#please ignore me while i crumple into a heap in the middle of the floor#south park#my chaotic sonshine#lotus talks to herself
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scene squids scene squids scene squids
#zylo's posts#zylo's art#IGNORE HOW CRUMPLED THE PAPER IS ON THE FIRST ONE#literally got bored in math class and was like how would racoon tails translate to splatoon#also drew octo version of racoon tails but it was too crumpled#splatoon#scene
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me last night during the rgg summit when they showed the clip of the conversation between ichi and kiryu and nakaya talked about their relationship in the game
literally all i wanted when they announced that lad 8 would have both of them as protagonists was for them to hang out and be buddies and have nice moments together and a nice bond and im sbdfgskdfgsdfgsjkdgsdg i want them to be close friends SO BAD
#rgg#like a dragon 8#like a dragon infinite wealth#i was crumpling like a paper ball during the entire summit GOD i love rgg games#nakaya hinting at a brotherly dinamic between them murdered me on the spot#in a good way#ngl i was afraid they were gonna go the yakuza 0 route with like 'haha how about we make the protagonists of the game not interact at all'#and i was not gonna be happy if that was the case#but i'm glad i have that to look forward to now! give me the cool friendship stories please thank you#(yes i am completely ignoring the whole romance subplot they mentioned)
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Me when characters have undying love for each other /romantic:
Me when characters have undying love for each other /platonic:
#you don't understand this is in my very DNA I cannot ignore the call of ϕιλία and στοργή I WILL lose my mind if confronted with them 100%#this is why the han brothers zion and serpens the whole of kimcom lloyd and javier reonagi (? <-not sure about this one tbh) gil and oz#ranpo and fukuzawa kelsier and vin VICTOR AND SYDNEY all have me in a chokehold and I crumple like paper at the slightest mention of them#bff.txt
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the only way to be truly normal is to not be deeply repressed. the rest is golden.
#and i mean repression of all kinds#you can only fold pieces of yourself back so many times before you become a crumpled up mess unable to tell up from down#crumpled paper cant be cut but it cant be drawn or written on either#so the only way to be receptive to the world and to your purpose is to unfold your creases and learn to love each wrinkle and tear#apart of your full and unfettered self.#this is all to say#celebrities who do things that are a little gay (kissing their same gender costars) are literally the most normal ones.#except jared padalecki who is—in this case as in any other—an exception. because there is probably something deeply wrong with him.#but yeah shitty emotional advice with a punchline with raz#raspberry rambles#ignore mw
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repeatedly trying to tweak my promo wondering if it's not promoing enough..
#;; mun chatter#i really like it but i guess compared to everyone else's promo its a little crumpled piece of paper in an art gallery...#there's gotta be something going on with it..#is the haute unlimited part making it confusing??? i thought i was being easter-egg-cheeky cause it's a brand in the actual SM games#and sofi's a model#i could add text on the images but idk what..#im not image wise creative anymore dang it--#im just trying to figure out why its like... completely ignored and now im nitpicking it from all angles..#and its not fun anymore#ive been reblogging it 2x every day for the past couple weeks and it hasn't even gotten a like... it's ugly isn't it...im not good at this#im stressing myself out about this and making myself sad..#which is why all i've been posting is ooc shitposting the last few days#writing sofi retreated somewhere im trying to coax her out with a snack
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i finally took a moment to read this and
that's it that's all ive got to say after finishing it
Mishaps
Part One of Box of Rain
AO3 | Loki Masterlist
Summary: After the universe plummets into chaos, you find yourself working alongside a merry band of misfits who’ve made a home for themselves in Tønsberg, Norway. When a harrowing incident occurs, Loki is forced to confront his feelings. Pairing: Loki x GN!Reader Word count: 7.4k Content: Hurt/Comfort, Slight Angst, Humor, Mutual Pining, Eventual Fluff, Post-Infinity War, Canon Divergence, Loki Lives, Asgardians of the Galaxy, Second Person POV, Loki POV Warnings: Language, Alcohol, Mentions of Depression/Past Trauma, Mentions of Blood Rating: Teen and Up
*header designed by the talented @tripleyeeet. and shout-out to the incredible @use-your-telescope for being a kick-ass beta.
The view looking out across the fjord was one you’d never tire of. As the sun set, heaven and earth collided, and for a brief moment, you existed within a world made only of skies, framed by towering mountains on either side. It was serene. Mystical. Otherworldly. Seemingly as if you were living on a totally different planet. And, in a way, you were. A changed planet, at least.
You let out a contented sigh as you watched the amber sun sink lower on its path across the sky, its hazy rays glistening on the water. Flashes of gold reflected across the ethereal cerulean inlet, shimmering and rippling with the last light of the day. Broad stripes of coral and lavender wrapped around you like a cozy blanket as the sun dipped slowly behind a jagged peak, kissing the distant horizon. Time slowed down, and all you felt was stillness and peace.
You almost forgot about the harsh reality of the near-dystopian state of the world. Almost. Moments like these were always as fleeting as they were unforgettable.
You inhaled, relishing the way the fresh, crisp air left a dash of salt on your lips. Your eyesight adjusted as you turned around, taking in a new view that was less than desirable. A small, plump codfish floundered at your feet, its spotted scales catching the last rays of receding daylight.
“Sustainably caught and everything,” a proud voice rang out from below. You glanced down at your furry companion and winced.
“This isn’t exactly what I had in mind when I asked for your assistance, Rocket,” you sighed, wrangling the poor fish into your grasp before tossing it into the waters along the jetty. The raccoon scrunched his wet face in dismay as the tail fin disappeared with a glug beneath the placid inlet.
“What the– That was gonna be dinner,” he growled, kicking at one of the jetty rocks in mock protest.
You had grown quite accustomed to the dramatics of your new friends and simply rolled your eyes as you removed your gloves, wiping your hands against the rough cotton fabric of your coveralls.
“Spare me. We’re supposed to be monitoring and mapping movements. Not doing meal prep,” you said as you climbed up onto the harbor, only pausing to retrieve your tablet off the low stone wall of the dock. “And now I’m late for a meeting.”
“How exactly is that my fault? If you hadn’t been daydreaming, sunshine…”
“You smell terrible, by the way,” you called over your shoulder, hurrying up the stone steps toward town.
“Yeah, well, you’re not exactly smellin’ like a rose yourself!” you heard Rocket call out as you turned the corner.
Despite New Asgard’s remote location, it was a bustling place. The people of Tønsberg had accepted the Aesir with open arms, and you’d witnessed firsthand how the Asgardians’ unique culture and traditions had seamlessly blended with the local Norwegian way of life.
And you were lucky to be here.
The immediate aftermath of losing half of the Earth’s population had been devastating. Three years later, the planet – the universe – was still responding to the aftermath of mass extinction.
It had been a haunting phenomenon, the collective grief of half a world wondering if those who had disappeared would ever return. You had to believe, in some way, that they would. That you’d finally obtain a resolution. But losing your entire family in the blink of an eye was still something you were coming to terms with.
Most days, it seemed there was no closure to be had. By anyone.
The assembled trauma and utter shock had gotten you through the most chaotic times. And yet, you had never been more alone in your sorrow. Everyone you loved – everyone who loved you – vanished in an instant. Your grief had eventually led you here, to Norway, to your great aunt’s abandoned cottage. You never imagined it would also lead you to a new family of sorts.
You knew that Valkyrie had led the surviving Aesir to Earth, that Thor and Loki had fought against the invaders in Wakanda, ultimately failing to stop what Rocket called the ‘Snap.’ You also knew Thor had gone on to kill the madman who inflicted his cruel interpretation of order on the entire universe. The same tyrant who had tortured Nebula. Who had tortured Loki.
And while they all bore witness to his demise, none derived satisfaction.
Still, you didn’t know the whole story and had long accepted you never would. Rocket, while he loved to yammer on about all sorts of things, never actually gave you any information you couldn’t easily seek out online. And none of the others ever spoke of it. It was as if they had chosen to exist outside of reality, weary and burdened by their experiences. Their silence was like a heavy cloak that draped over them, concealing the past and shielding you from the horrors that resided within their minds.
Nonetheless, you cherished your otherworldly friends, grateful for the moments of joy and camaraderie that you shared in the midst of persistent responsibilities. Which, for you, meant working under the guidance of Asgardian leadership, developing ethical frameworks that promoted sustainable interactions between the citizens of New Asgard and the natural world. It was a far cry from your previous profession, but one that gave you a renewed sense of purpose amidst the lingering mayhem.
You hurried along the cobbled walkway, popping in your headphones as you bypassed New Asgard’s central square, where a statue of Odin stood tall and imposing, watching over his people. Veering off the main path, you opted to take the shortcut over the hillside while there was still enough light left to guide you.
As you walked up the trail that wound through a thicket of trees, you pulled your tablet from your bag to email your daily report to Valkyrie. Lost in thought, you didn’t notice the figure approaching from the opposite direction until it was too late.
With a jolt, you crashed back to reality as you collided with someone along the narrow path, the device falling from your grip.
“Oof,” a deep voice resounded from above you. You snatched out one of your earbuds, your other hand searching for purchase against a broad chest.
“L-Loki,” you stammered as you looked up at his stoic face, framed by his perfectly groomed curls that obediently rested atop his broad shoulders. How he always managed to look so impeccably regal despite the blistering cliffside winds was a mystery you were too eager to solve.
“Hello.” The resounding timbre sent a shiver down your spine as your fingers absentmindedly lingered on the soft wool of his dark pea coat. Loki looked down his nose at you, his eyes flitting from your fingertips to your face. Then he frowned.
He was not a fan of his personal space being invaded and you knew this. However, there had been a few moments between the two of you when he almost seemed to welcome your touch. Your mind flitted back to the time your fingertips grazed his while sitting together at a council meeting. You recalled the way your shoulders often touched as you walked side-by-side along the docks, and how he never removed your hand from the crook of his elbow as you navigated through the crowds on village market days.
And then there had been the time you’d excitedly hugged him after successfully tagging your first Norwegian cod, and you swore he hugged you back. You thought about the hug a lot. Too often, perhaps. It was all strictly platonic, of course.
You felt Loki’s cool fingers wrap around yours, and you hurriedly took a step back, snatching your hand away.
“I am so sorry,” you said as you shoved your headphones into your coat pocket. Your already wind-chapped face grew even more heated under his puckish gaze. “I was– ”
“Preoccupied?” Loki mused, his eyes crinkling with mirth. The playfulness in his tone calmed your nerves a bit.
“Mmm. I’ve been down at the docks all afternoon.” You forced out a laugh in a poor attempt at regaining some semblance of composure as Loki squatted down to retrieve the forgotten datapad at your feet.
“Thank you,” you murmured as he handed it back to you. “Again, sorry for that less-than-graceful display.”
“It’s fine,” he replied, his piercing green eyes surveying your form. God, he was always so intense.
“You’ve got a lot on your mind, I’m sure. As do I,” Loki commented as he cast a knowing glance in your direction. “I just left Thor’s.”
“Oh. How is he today? Will he be joining us later?” you asked, trying to keep up with Loki’s long strides as he turned off the path in the direction of Valkyrie’s secluded lodge.
“The same, I’m afraid. His apathy for– ” Loki opened his arms and gestured down the hill “ –all this grows by the day. But I don’t imagine that surprises you,” he replied, quirking an eyebrow.
“And I’ve asked him to come tonight,” he continued as he turned to knock on the cabin’s front door. “But no promises were made.”
Valkyrie placed a steaming cup of tea in front of you as you set down your tablet and propped your head on your hand.
“This proposal is ridiculous. They’re already manufacturing synthetic food products in labs across the globe. Asking us to operate a fish farm would not only skew our ecological research, but it essentially violates New Asgard’s sustainability treaty,” you lamented, glancing across the table at Loki.
He was surrounded by an imposing tower of folders and an array of alien technological systems that rivaled the inventions of Tony Stark. He still obstinately refused to use Midgardian tech, deeming it inferior to what he could procure from elsewhere in the universe. He stopped thumbing through a stack of papers, his eyebrows slanting up as he gave you a bemused look.
“Exactly. Why is the Council giving us a hard time?” added Valkyrie, settling into a chair and pushing a holographic map out of view as she too looked to Loki for an answer. “I did not agree to come to this planet just to be controlled by another group of insane bureaucrats.”
Loki pinched the bridge of his nose, a weary sigh escaping his lips before he responded. “Because they can, I suppose. The entire universe is in chaos – and not the kind I usually revel in, mind you,” he said, casting a sly wink in your direction that immediately made your cheeks flush with heat. You quickly took a sip of your drink as Valkyrie suspiciously peered at you, a smirk tugging at the corner of her mouth.
“But, by all the Nine, the governing bodies of this particular realm are so tedious. I can admit I’m at my wits end with these negotiations,” Loki continued, seemingly oblivious to your flustered state.
For the next half hour, the three of you continued to address the unremitting concerns of the new world order. As you brainstormed, the holographic map in the center of the room flashed various graphs and statistics. In any other situation, you’d find meetings like this incredibly irksome, but Loki had a way of keeping you fully engaged.
Why did you find everything about him so alluring? Your heart fluttered as you watched him reading over his notes as the conversation lulled, the urge to reach across the table and smooth the deep creases on his brow overwhelming. When he ran his thumb under his bottom lip as his eyes flitted back and forth across the page before him, you couldn’t help but imagine how his lips might feel against yours…
When you realized you’d been staring, you fumbled with your own notes, ignoring the smug expression on Valkyrie’s face.
“I believe we have a solid plan,” Loki said, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “And if all else fails, I can always use my charm to persuade them otherwise.” At his words, a flash of seidr shot from the palm of his hand as five more Lokis appeared around their commander.
“Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that,” Valkyrie sneered, rolling her eyes as she stood up from the table. Loki waved his duplicates away with a huff, turning around as the door creaked open behind him. Thor sauntered in, his eyes glued to his phone as his wide frame strode through the glowing data projections.
“Ah, how kind of you to join us, brother,” Loki scoffed, leaning back in his chair. “We were just discussing the most recent inane request presented to us by your friends at the Disunited Nations.”
Thor grunted in response, still mindlessly scrolling. Loki, however, was not so easily dismissed.
“Care to verbalize those rousing thoughts, your majesty?” he said sharply, his frustration palpable.
Shit. You stared at Valkyrie, eyes wide. The last thing you wanted was to be caught up in an altercation between two brooding demigods. She subtly shook her head, motioning for you to join her in the kitchen.
As you stood, the blonde Asgardian bristled, finally glancing up from the device dwarfed in his palm. “Erm, sorry. What is it you’re rambling on about?” Thor muttered, his brow furrowed in confusion.
“The prospect of a fishery…” Loki did little to hide the annoyance in his voice. “As king, I thought you might have an opinion. Clearly, I was mistaken.”
Thor shrugged, scrolling through his phone once more. “I don’t know. You seem to have everything under control. I’ll just… be over here,” he replied, drifting to a nearby chair.
Loki abruptly stood, sending his belongings to his interdimensional pocket with a flick of his wrist.
“I see. Then we will move ahead with our plan– ” he paused, giving you a knowing look across the room as he walked toward the door “ –to continue the monitoring and not risk further contamination with foolhardy farming practices.”
Thor let out another grunt as Loki exited the cabin, turning to you and Valkyrie with a look of indifference. “What’s got his cape in a twist?”
Damn it. You quickly dismissed yourself, snatching your tablet from the table and hurrying after Loki. It was dark out now, but not so dark that you couldn’t make out his stately form descending the hillside. At least three of your strides equaled one of his, and you found yourself breaking into a graceless jog as you struggled to catch up with the god.
Before you could stop yourself, you shouted out his name. Loki turned on his heel and held up his hand, conjuring an orb of glimmering light.
“S-sorry, hey,” you panted as you finally reached where he stood waiting. “I thought we could walk back together?”
He pursed his lips, glancing over your shoulder at Valkyrie’s cabin. Perhaps this wasn’t your brightest idea. After what felt like an eternity, Loki responded.
“Of course. I- I should not have made such a hasty exit. Apologies for my imprudent behavior.” He spoke with a twinge of forced formality that sent your mind reeling. He obviously wanted to be alone right now.
“Oh. No worries,” you replied almost too casually, cringing internally as you fell in step alongside him. The two of you walked in silence for a few minutes, and it took every ounce of your resolve not to gawk at the handsome god. The way the moonlight illuminated his sharp features was absolutely devastating and definitely not something you’d be thinking about as you drifted off to sleep later.
You turned your focus to the warm glow emanating from Loki’s floating orb, humming in delight as you observed the tendrils of gold light wafting through the nipping sea air. You were endlessly fascinated by his seidr, from his masterful displays of sorcery and deception on New Asgard’s training fields to simpler charms such as this. Everything about Loki was beautiful. Otherworldly. Unattainable.
He finally spoke up again, his tone guarded. “I do hope I didn’t cause any offense,” he said, his eyes darting over to you briefly before flicking away. “Thor and I… it’s complicated.”
You shook your head. “No, no, not at all,” you replied, trying to sound reassuring. “Your reaction was justified.”
There was another moment of silence before Loki let out a quiet sigh, his shoulders slumping slightly. “He’s– things are just very different now.”
He was right. Everything was different. You tried to ignore the ache in your own grief-stricken heart as you cautiously reached out to touch Loki’s arm, hoping to offer some comfort. “I know,” you said softly.
Loki glanced down at your hand on his arm, then back up at you, his expression softening a little. “You do know, don’t you?”
Your breath hitched as you regarded him, taking in the way his eyes sparked with an intensity you’d never seen before. It sent shivers down your spine, and you couldn’t help but wonder if he was thinking about you in the same way you thought of him. Perhaps it was simply a trick of the glimmering light?
“And that’s part of the problem,” he continued. “Thor blames himself for everyone’s loss. Not just our people’s.”
Oh.
Suddenly he stopped walking, and you realized you’d reached the small gate that led to your cottage. For a moment, you hesitated, reluctant to say goodnight just yet. Loki had never spoken this openly with you before, and you didn’t want the conversation to end.
“Would you like to come in for some tea?” you asked as the twinkling orb disappeared from the space between you. Had he kept it lit only for your benefit?
“Ah, I’m afraid I must prepare for my journey to Vanaheim tomorrow.” He gave you a sad smile as you opened your gate, no doubt detecting the confusion on your face. “A strictly diplomatic visit. Valkyrie is aware. And it’s probably best if I spend some time away from New Asgard.”
“Well, the offer stands. You, me, and a cup of tea. Perhaps when you return?” you asked, attempting to conceal the disappointment in your voice. Loki didn’t owe you anything, after all.
“Of course. When I return.”
The next few days were relatively uneventful, all things considered. You continued your research of now-endangered fish species, while Valkyrie prepared for a convening with neighboring republics. Loki was off-planet, as were Nebula and Rocket.
And you hadn’t seen Thor since the meeting the other night, which was why you now found yourself in the God of Thunder’s cluttered cottage. He’d hastily greeted you at the door, pulling his long unkempt hair into a half ponytail before haphazardly scooping up an assortment of dirty dishes and carrying them to his kitchen.
“Thor, about the other night,” you began, plopping down on your usual spot on the sofa – the cushion nearest the fireplace. It was the one with the least amount of stains.
“Would you like some ale?” he asked roughly, avoiding eye contact as he opened his refrigerator door. You knew he was trying to avoid the subject, as he always did when confronted like this. But you weren’t going to let up so easily this time.
“Thor…”
He continued to ignore you, the sound of glass bottles clinking together echoing through the room like tiny bells ringing out in unison.
“You could, you know, try to be a bit more involved with– ” you paused, searching for the right words. “Human affairs. The people adore you, you know.”
“Perhaps they did. In the past.” Releasing a small grunt, Thor settled down on the sofa next to you. “But I’m afraid your attempts at flattery are in vain, little mortal.”
“I may just be a mortal, Thor, but I am doing the best I can with the hand we’ve been dealt. We all are. And regardless of whatever you think, we need your help.”
He merely scoffed, handing you a bottle of beer before putting his headset on and returning to his video game. Of course you had interrupted him in the middle of some imaginary battle.
Thor Odinson, king of Asgard, ancient warrior, Avenger, god among men. Toiling his eternal days away in a too-small, too-dark cottage, drinking ale and talking shit to teenagers halfway across the globe as he numbed himself to everything around him.
He had lost his purpose.
You empathized with him, you really did. And perhaps you were out of line to address him in such a manner. But in all the time you’d known him, he’d never once displayed even the smallest flicker of sovereignty. No, that responsibility had fallen upon his younger brother’s shoulders. And you could see the toll it was taking on Loki.
When I return.
His parting words echoed in your mind like distant thunder, each rumble a reminder of the restless storm brewing in your heart. You weren’t entirely sure if Loki would actually be returning this time. Perhaps it was the way he had looked at you when he said it – the mask of his unwavering stoicism falling aside for the briefest moment to reveal a kind of hesitant sorrow.
Tension swelled within you, like charged air, ready to erupt at any moment. The deep-seated longing you had tried to suppress for so long now was overpowering any modicum of resolve that remained within you. All you could do was hope the storm would eventually pass.
Frustrated, you sat in silence for a few more minutes before the urge to speak became overwhelming.
“Loki can’t keep going on this way. Managing everything himself,” you blurted out, curling a leg under you as you shifted to face the larger-than-life Asgardian.
“Ah, and there it is. It isn’t diplomacy, or the people of New Asgard, or even me you’re worried about here. It’s my brother.”
Thor punctuated those last three words, and they hit you like bolts of lightning, electrifying every nerve in your body. You winced at the intensity of his tone, but you couldn’t deny it was the truth. Loki’s predicament weighed heavily on your mind. You knew that you needed to gather your wits and find a way to respond, but for now, all you could do was stare at Thor, a silent plea in your eyes, hoping that he would understand the depth of your concern.
“It’s all right. He’s done it before,” Thor continued, casting you a sideways glance.
“Done what before?” you asked, baffled.
“Led the people of Asgard. Without me.”
What? You’d have to address that later. Thor must have somehow noted the look of abject shock on your face because he continued to divulge as he continuously – annoyingly – tapped a button on his game controller.
“Loki has always been better at this sort of thing. Since we were mere children, he’s always had the answers to all of our problems. The problems I inevitably create.”
You straightened your back, voice resolute despite your growing nerves.
“But do you want him to leave? Forever? He’s– you’re all the other has, Thor. If you keep pushing him away– I’m afraid he feels he has no reason to stay.”
“I say this with no malice, but unlike you, I’ve known Loki for a thousand years. He is not going anywhere,” Thor replied matter-of-factly. “He cares for our people more than he’s willing to openly admit.”
“That may be true, Thor. But– ”
“And you,” he interrupted, pausing his game and looking at you, his deep blue eyes searching your own. “You are reason enough for him to stay. Certainly you’ve realized that.”
For the second time in a matter of minutes, Thor had managed to completely stun you. You were reason enough? Surely he was mistaken. Despite all the small, genial moments between you, did Loki even consider you a friend? Much less someone worth sticking around for?
You opened your mouth, but no words formed on your heavy tongue. Instead, you heard your own incredulous laugh ringing around the room. None of this made sense.
“Thor, I– ”
“You’re not gonna believe the haul we got!” Rocket interrupted, scurrying through Thor’s front door and disrupting any thoughts that had started to form in your bewildered mind.
“Well, c’mon!” the raccoon panted, beckoning you both into the yard.
It was long past dusk, but the glow of the Guardian’s ship was unmistakable along the cliffside. You waved as Nebula exited the spacecraft, rolling her eyes as Rocket excitedly pulled open a hatch revealing a collection of foreign weapons.
“Thor, you shoulda been there. I’m tellin’ ya, it was wild…”
You greeted Nebula with a teasing eye roll of your own. “Successful expedition then?”
“If you consider obtaining inferior technology successful, then yes,” she replied simply, walking over to Thor’s makeshift fire pit. A mischievous grin spread across her face, reminding you of Loki. “I would like to make a fire.”
You glanced over at Thor, who seemed quite preoccupied with Rocket’s latest collection of artillery. At least something had him excited.
“Well, then, let’s make a fire,” you responded, clapping your hands together as you searched the darkened ground for something to use as kindling. “Go grab some firewood. Thor keeps it stacked out back,” you nodded at the lean-to behind his cottage. Nebula let out a dramatic huff as she headed off to grab the wood, and you chuckled as you gathered up some dry twigs and leaves.
Minutes later, the fire crackled to life, illuminating the darkness with its warm glow. Nebula settled down next to you on one of the logs surrounding the amber blaze, looking immensely pleased with herself. Once Thor noticed the merriment happening fireside, he tore his attention away from Rocket’s collection of weapons and came over to join you. His massive frame loomed over the lapping flames, his golden hair creating an ethereal outline around his chiseled face. For a brief moment, he looked younger, raw power radiating from his being. As flickering embers rose around him, you regarded him as the impressive god he was. Yet, as he passed you a large bottle of mead, you noted the hint of weariness lingering in his eyes.
He needed to be reminded of who he used to be. Who he could still be.
“Tell us about the time you slayed the Bilgesnipe hoard,” you giddily implored, hoping to distract him by recalling one of your favorite stories. He’d told it countless times before, but it never failed to entertain.
“Bilgesnipes, eh?” murmured Rocket, curling his lip as he grabbed the mead from your clutch. “I’ve heard their teeth can fetch a pretty penny.”
“Oh, what an epic day that was!” Thor beamed, his large hand falling heavily on Rocket’s back, knocking the wind out of the raccoon. “I was in the wilds of Asgard with the great warrior Volstagg, when all of a sudden…”
You listened intently for the next ten minutes as Thor paced around the roaring fire, jovially describing the most disgusting details of the carnage he inflicted upon the mythical creatures.
“And then– ” Thor paused, eyeballing one of the discarded weapons on the ground beyond the pit. He walked over to it and picked it up, examining it with a playful snicker.
“I wielded the mighty Mjölnir, hurling it right between the antlers of the pack leader,” he said, dramatically lifting the alien artillery above his head.
“Go on then, show us how it’s done!” you shouted as you rose to your feet, feeling the effects of the Asgardian mead rush to your head. Nebula and Rocket both looked skeptical, but you egged him on, enthralled by the idea of seeing Thor wield the foreign weapon in his signature style.
He grinned, swinging the silver contraption around his head with a flourish. But just as he was about to release it toward the cliffside, the weapon malfunctioned, shooting off sparks and emitting a loud, ear-piercing screech.
Then everything went black.
It had been a long day. A long few days, Loki thought as he poured himself a cup of tea. Taking a slow sip, his keen eyes narrowed as he stared at Stormbreaker leaning against his kitchen island. It was probably time to return the axe to Thor – if he even missed it at all.
Loki was teetering on the verge of exhaustion, and hadn’t even bothered to change out of his ceremonial armor. He had spent the last three days on Vanaheim, checking in on the realm’s remaining population. He would never be able to shake the nagging responsibility he still felt to the citizens of the Nine, especially his mother’s people. Not after he had failed them on such a massive scale.
In the immediate aftermath of the Snap, Thor had joined him on these royal visits across the galaxy, but now Loki went it alone. A small part of him still felt the sting of collective disappointment from the Vanir when he arrived via the Bifrost without his brother. It wasn’t that Thor didn’t care, though, and deep down, Loki knew that. He just hoped the others understood.
You understood, at least. And even though he’d been realms away, Loki could not escape you. He didn’t want to.
Just yesterday, as he observed the Vanir children practicing seidr, one of the younglings had conjured a small orb of light, and Loki was overwhelmed with thoughts of you. How your face lit up every time he displayed even the smallest bit of magic. How your infectious wonderment was slowly chipping away at his resolve. How he felt a spark of something he thought he’d never experience again each time you touched him, always so gentle, as if you were afraid he would break…
A sudden bang made him spin around, instinctively conjuring his daggers as his mug clattered to the floor. The front door had flung open with such force that it splintered around the hinges, its agonizing creak reverberating around the cottage like a death knell.
Loki huffed, dissipating his weapons as he realized who the culprit was.
“Nebula, I have warned you– ”
“Loki.”
Something about her tone had a bitterness burning his throat – the usual monotonous cadence he’d come to expect from the humanoid had been replaced with something else. A sense of urgency? Before he could swallow down the acrid taste in his mouth and respond, all hell broke loose.
Everything happened all at once and yet Loki felt like time stopped. A guttural howl cut through the biting wind. Thor. It was a sound he’d hoped to never hear again. Loki’s heart lurched, then plummeted to the depths of the earth’s core as Nebula stepped aside, revealing his brother’s imposing form, outlined by glowing moonlight in the darkened doorway.
Thor’s shirt and forearms were smeared with a dark red substance, your slack body clutched against his chest.
No.
Loki lunged forward as Thor stumbled into the cottage. The look of sheer panic on his brother’s face sent a surge of fear into the depths of Loki’s soul.
No.
“What have you done?” Loki barked out, his hands hovering apprehensively above your body, afraid to touch you.
“They– I– I shot them, Loki,” Thor stuttered, his blue eyes conveying a portentous sorrow Loki hadn’t seen since their mother died.
NO.
This couldn’t be happening. Loki’s chest constricted as his eyes frantically darted from Thor’s stricken face to your pallid one. You looked… were you? He shook the macabre thought from his mind. No. Not you. Not if he could help it.
“Fuck! Here, put them down. Gently.” Loki quickly cleared a spot on his kitchen table with a flick of his wrist.
“Nebula,” Loki said tersely. “How did this happen? What type of weaponry did this?” He glanced at Thor, who still had not let go of your body despite it being strewn across the wooden table. Loki’s brows furrowed in earnest concentration as he returned his attention to you, magically removing your coat and sweater as his fingertips ghosted over your wound. He flicked his head to the side as he slowly, carefully began to weave his seidr around the gaping flesh.
“It was an accident. I– I swear it,” Thor sputtered, choking down a sob.
“Enough!” Loki bellowed, the intensity of his outburst causing Thor to finally release you from his grasp. “Get out of the way, you useless oaf, and let me handle this. Like I’ve always done,” Loki growled before nodding at Nebula.
“Tell me.”
“Contraxian. There was a malfunction,” Nebula answered somberly. Loki’s eyes once again focused on the laceration across your midriff, noting your breathing seemed to be a bit less labored than before.
“Accident or not, this is too much blood.” Loki’s voice was unwavering, but he could no longer conceal the anxiety creeping across his features. He just needed to stop the bleeding.
Loki steadied himself with a deep, measured breath before drawing on every bit of power he possessed. As he felt the eerily familiar surge of energy course through his veins, Loki thought back to the last time he’d been forced to access this facet of his seidr. That cursed day on the Statesman. He would not – could not – fail this time. But you’d lost so much blood already.
Far too much for a mortal.
“Can’t you do something?” his brother implored, running a hand through his wild blonde hair as he paced around the room.
“I am doing something, but I am not a healer, Thor!”
“Wake up, kid,” panted Rocket. In the brief moment Loki had taken his eyes off of you, the raccoon had hopped onto the table and was now peering down at you. A cold fury burned in Loki’s gaze as he watched the creature pat your cheek with a small paw.
Your eyes fluttered open and Loki finally exhaled the breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding in.
“See? They’re fine. It’s just a flesh wound, drama queen,” Rocket commented as he leaned over your wound, examining the tendrils of seidr. They weaved around the lesion, binding together to create a bandage of pulsating, shimmering gold. “Yeah. Yeah. I’ve seen worse– ”
That fucking furry arsehole.
“Move back, you insolent rabbit,” Loki spat, giving the raccoon a malicious glare. “And better yet, leave. Now. Before I turn you into a fur stole.”
He continued to thread his seidr around your fragile body, praying to the Norns above that it would be enough.
“Loki…” you groaned, lifting your eyes to meet his. The sound of his name on your lips sent a small rush of relief through Loki. But your dazed expression let him know that you were having trouble focusing. He wondered if you even realized what had transpired. You let out a rugged sigh as you attempted to sit up, but Loki gently pressed a steady hand against your shoulder.
“No, don’t move. Please. Conserve your energy,” he implored, running his fingers along your face before tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.
“I’m– I’m okay.” You gave him a weak smile, reaching out to him before your eyes fluttered shut again. Loki wrapped his fingers around your trembling hand in an effort to calm you both.
“Yea– yes. You’re going to be okay,” he repeated in a whisper, unsure if it was for your benefit or his. He glanced down at the lesion again, and though his vision was slightly blurred from the tears frustratingly welling in his eyes, he could see that he’d been successful this time.
“I– I think I’ve stopped the bleeding,” he said finally, looking around the room and finding no solace there.
Exasperated and drained, he grabbed his cape from a nearby chair, wrapping it around your body before lifting you into his arms as he turned to Thor and Nebula.
“But we need the healers. Now.”
Loki jolted awake at the sound of the door closing. Slivers of receding sunlight filtered through the aluminum blinds, casting long streaks of light across the modest space. It took Loki a moment to find his bearings, and he blinked slowly, watching the warm light dance across the walls.
Someone had been in your room at the clinic, and he’d slept through it. Norns, when had he dozed off?
His gaze flitted between your motionless form and the intravenous bag at your bedside. Grimacing, he wiped an embarrassing amount of dribble from his lips. Gods, I am truly losing it, he thought. He discarded the open book in his lap as he stood, stretching his aching limbs and following the attendant into the hallway.
Loki grasped the woman’s shoulder as she filed a chart, an irritated expression marring his face.
“What did you give them?” he demanded hoarsely, voice still thick with remnants of sleep.
“Something for the pain,” the nurse explained. Her voice was kind. Soft. Forgiving. It reminded Loki of his mother. It made him furious.
“While the healers were able to mend the wound and provide a sleeping spell, pain management is still necessary,” she continued.
You were in pain.
Loki huffed, warily turning back to look through the doorway at you. His brows furrowed as he regarded your current state. Was the extent of your injury so severe you needed something more than Aesir magic could provide?
He flinched when the nurse patted his shoulder. Are all Midgardian healers this bold? he wondered.
“Nothing to be concerned about,” she continued, obviously sensing his unease. “I assure you, your highness, it is a common treatment for humans.”
“Right. Of course.”
He gave a curt nod and quietly made his way back to what had to be the most wretched chair in the universe, shifting his thighs on the seat in an attempt to find a comfortable position. He glanced at you, your body lax against the meager, rigid hospital cot. At that moment, Loki made a mental note to secure funding to update the clinic’s furnishings.
By all the Nine. He never imagined this would be his life: Thinking of ways to improve the day-to-day operations of the Midgardian healthcare system. Negotiating border policies and peace treaties with diplomats. Researching patterns of pollen limitation. Reading your infuriatingly charming reports about the migration patterns of fish…
Of course, these were not things totally unfamiliar to him. He was a prince, after all. A beacon of diplomacy and guile. But Thanos had changed everything. Loki winced as he tried to shake the dark memories encroaching on his mind. He inhaled, focusing on his surroundings.
The uncomfortable chair. The fading scent of antiseptic. The acrid taste lingering on his tongue. The cool leather against his skin. The dull beeping of machines by the bed. The mortal before him.
Not just any mortal, though. You.
Your presence alone challenged the carefully measured control he held over his emotions. And, much to Loki’s chagrin, you had managed to wind your way into his heart. It had changed him in ways he had never thought possible.
Loki let out a deep sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose. He had to get a grip. But he did not leave your side.
“Can you hear me?” he asked softly, inching closer to the bed. There was no answer, only the sound of your faint snores. The sleeping spell was working, then.
You looked so meek. So fragile. It pained him to see you this way. Part of him wondered what would happen if you suddenly awoke to find him there. Would you be pleasantly surprised? Confused? Or worse, disappointed to find that he was the one watching over you?
Would you even care? His heart constricted painfully in his chest at the thought.
He concluded that he would accept whatever outcome. Any response at all would relieve him of the incessant worry churning in the pit of his stomach. He just needed to know you were going to be okay.
Loki’s eyes burned as he blinked back tears. One large hand raked through his wild curls, and he scowled as he shifted back into the seat. How could you have been so careless?
“You infuriate me.” He felt half-mad, confessing to you this way.
“You brilliant, reckless creature. It’s no wonder Thor befriended you. You’re always too eager to go along with his half-brained schemes.”
Loki, admittedly, had been reluctant to accept your friendship. He wondered now why he’d fought against it for so long. He leaned forward, cautiously caressing your cheek with the back of his fingers.
“I’ve not been a good friend to you, have I?”
He paused, recalling all the times you’d been so infuriatingly kind to him. How he wished he had not refused your invitation for tea. Perhaps if he’d been more open with you, perhaps if he had stayed…
“The way you look at me,” he continued. “The way you see me… I don’t deserve it. None of us do.”
“Thor’s guilt is slowly consuming him. And I don’t know what to do. I realize we all have our own ways of coping. Dealing with this… immense loss. What I do know is that I cannot stand by and let you become a victim of his destructive behavior.”
Loki leaned forward, taking your hand in his. What a fool he’d been, so assured that his burgeoning infatuation would pass. A lopsided smile crossed his face as he looked at you, and he finally let the walls around his heart come crashing down.
“I– I care for you, too much to let any harm come your way. I only wish I had realized it sooner.”
With a deep sigh, he rested his head on the mattress, his raven curls fanning across your thigh as his eyes fluttered closed. He never let go of your hand.
This time, Loki heard when someone entered the room but didn’t bother moving away from your bedside.
“I’ve never seen the prince act with such concern for anyone,” a lilted voice commented.
“I have known Loki his entire life. And though he may often refuse to acknowledge his own feelings, I have no doubt he cares fiercely for those he loves.”
Loki frowned, recognizing the second voice immediately. It was Eir, Odin’s former head physician and now New Asgard’s top healer.
“I’m awake, you know,” Loki finally responded when he heard the younger healer leave the room.
“Yes, and that’s exactly why I said what I said.” Eir cast Loki a cautious glance as he righted himself, a glow of seidr washing over him, concealing any lingering signs of exhaustion.
“You cannot hide from me, boy. You’ve been sitting vigil here for nearly a full day. And don’t think I’m unaware of the toll the magicks you wielded to stabilize your friend took on your body. When was the last time you actually slept, Loki?”
The nerve. Loki stood to his full height in an attempt to regain some semblance of power. He peered down at the old healer, her keen glare meeting his own. Her silver brows furrowed, wrinkles carving an ancient map across her face. Loki sometimes wondered if she was as old as the Norns themselves.
“That is no concern of yours, Eir,” Loki responded haughtily, rolling his shoulders back and regally tossing his dark locks over his shoulder. “And I would remind you to not speak so casually when in the presence of the crowned prince of Asgard, lest you forget your place again.”
Of course, Eir was right, and he knew it. Perhaps that is what bothered him most of all.
He had to get out of here. He didn’t want to leave you, but he knew he couldn’t stay another minute. Loki bundled his cape in one large fist and strode past her.
“Your friend is going to be okay, Loki. I promise you, by Frigga’s grace.”
Loki froze at the mention of his mother’s name. He closed his eyes as his fingers curled around the doorframe, bracing himself for an impact that never came. Still, he did not turn around.
“Once the sleeping charm wears off, we’ll discharge them. Likely sometime tomorrow morning. Do you want to be informed when that happens?”
Finally, Loki glanced over his shoulder, his narrowed eyes flitting from you back to Eir.
“Ah, no. No, that won’t be necessary.” He turned and walked into the hallway before exalting a final command.
“You will alert my brother when it is time to accompany our friend back home, understood?”
He didn’t wait for the response.
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#loki laufeyson x reader#loki x reader sfw#loki x reader angst#not on my bingo card: Rocket being the first character but that was an entertaining little exchange#oh fuck is this taking place DURING the Blip????#oh my god it is#shoving more popcorn into my mouth bc im even more invested now than i was two minutes ago#''How he always managed to look so impeccably regal despite the blistering cliffside winds was a mystery you were too eager to solve.'' 🍻#thor :( :( :(#his depression post-Snap always makes me ache bc WOW#''casting a sly wink in your direction that immediately made your cheeks flush with heat'' stop flirting during the meeting u silly goose!!#tossing a crumpled sheet of paper at his head!!!#''ignoring the smug expression on Valkyrie’s face'' HAHAHA Val has their interactions peggedi love that#DISUNITED NATIONS ALDJ;FLADKJGKDAHGLADJG GOOD-FUCKING-BYE I NEED TO RECOVER FROM THAT#i am making awkward side-eyes bc the animosity vs apathy is umm yeah i would want to exit through the nearest wall. door or window optional#*i* however will be thinking about how devastatingly handsome he is. though it would be something to feel awkward about in that moment...#Thor Odinson i am picking you up by the scruff of your neck and shaking you you little asshole#but then i am immediately made sad about him again :(#THOR PICKING UP ON LOKI'S FEELINGS TOO DESPITE EVERYTHING???? bye im pressing my face against a wall and screaming#''Then everything went black.'' UMMMM??? HELP IM SCARED NOW????#HELP HELP HELP IM SCREECHING#''Would you even care?'' girl help why am i crying about this line rn#hey. hey. the end of this. hey.
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frat!sukuna is a fucking asshole
he rolls his eyes each time you confront him about his alcohol consumption and weekend parties. demanded you to stay out of his way because he doesn’t belong to you and vice versa. so he’s free to do whatever he wants
frat!sukuna is a fucking asshole
who goes to classes whenever he pleases, ignoring your advice about taking care of his grades because you want to see him excel in everything. not just football. he refuses to have you mentor him because he doesn’t want to be babied
frat!sukuna is a fucking asshole
who throws or give away every cookie and home cooked meals you make for him for lunch. he hates the little notes you give him, so he crumples the papers and put it in a bin. he hates how you smile each time you see him on hallways or campus park, calling by his nickname ‘kuna!’ it’s so embarrassing. jesus, can you shut the fuck up?!
frat!sukuna is a fucking asshole
who flirts with girls during parties and classes, inviting them over to have sex despite knowing how you feel about him. what the two of you have is a casual thing, he’s not your boyfriend! so why should he gives a shit about you crying when you see him holding a girl’s hand, guiding her upstairs.
frat!sukuna is a fucking asshole
who promises that he’ll change as long as you stay the night after a fuck session. he break down your walls by giving you an aftercare and a glass of water. he lets you cuddle into his chest and kisses the top of your head… only to kick you out the next morning because he’s seeing yorozu and he doesn’t want you around.
frat!sukuna is a fucking asshole
who pretends like he doesn’t know you exist except when he’s hitting you up late at night. smirking to himself at just how easy it is for you to respond immediately. god, it’s too easy.
frat!sukuna is a fucking asshole
who’s expression remains stoic when you pour your heart out to him… telling him how much you want to be his despite everything that he did to you. all because you are certain that he cares about you. but he denies it. telling you to fuck off because he doesn’t want you beyond sex. so either you stay as his fuck buddy or leave.
frat!sukuna is a fucking asshole
who throws a party thirty minutes after you left crying from his room. shrugging it off and decides he’s going to fuck different girls that night by the help of his friends. gojo and geto.
frat!sukuna is a fucking asshole
who feels like something is wrong not having you by his side. it has been weeks that you left and he hasn’t seen you a lot on campus. discreetly trying to find you through your friends, the classes you’re taking, even stalk through your social medias. only to find you have already blocked him out of your life.
frat!sukuna is a fucking asshole
who sees you at the campus park after going missing from his life. you were wearing a smile that he finds so pretty annoying and a look of glow that he has never seen before. you were laughing with your friends and your hand was… wait a minute…
gojo satoru?!
frat!sukuna is an asshole
who marches to gojo after practice and punch him straight into his jaw until he tumbles. yelling at the white haired man for stealing you away when he was supposed to be sukuna’s best friend. how long has its been going on? when did you guys meet? are you two dating already?
gojo doesn’t care. he doesn’t care about being sukuna’s best friend. all he cares about is you. the sweet gorgeous girl who he had his eyes on throughout junior year. even during the times you were hooking up with sukuna… he still has his eyes on you.
and gojo loves you. dear god, he loves you. there is nothing in this world he wouldn’t give.
frat!sukuna is a fucking asshole
who quiets down when gojo admits his feelings about you. because he could treat you better than that pink haired bastard who doesn’t care about you. because gojo notices everything. he notices the food that you cooked, the notes, the nickname, the coddling, the sweet cheery voice when you see sukuna… what kind of man would give that up?
you have so many flowers to receive and gojo is not going to miss out on that chance to hand them to you.
and sukuna releases his grip around gojo’s collar, backing away from the man without another word and out of the locker room. frustrated with himself and curses himself in the head for being this way.
frat!sukuna is an asshole…
…who’s too late to say he actually fucking loves you
#frat!sukuna#sukuna x reader#ryomen sukuna#sukuna angst#jjk#ryomen sukuna x reader#ryomen sukuna blurbs#ryomen sukuna angst
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a moment | s. reid
summary: two times there was a ‘moment’ between you and spencer, and one time he did something about it.
warnings; best friends to lovers, fem reader, pinning, this based off a lorelai and luke edit i saw, idk if its edited or makes any sense tbh!! sorry! longing, kinda self doubt idk, happy ending yay!!
an; this is for lia. And was written in like an hour so i really dont want the hate guys. If it sucks i cannot be held responsible.
You walk into the bullpen, scanning the usual chaos of the bullpen The day’s already running long, and it’s barely even noon.
"Look who finally decided to join us," Spencer says, glancing up from his desk. His eyes are sharp behind his glasses, but there’s a smirk tugging at his lips. He’s half-hidden behind a wall of case files, as always, but somehow manages to throw his snark with precision.
you and spencer had been best friends since you started together, you got along with anyone but gravitated towards Spencer more than anyone else. Him and Penelope were the easiest for you to be around, you loved everyone but you had your favourites.
While Penelope had been bugging you to either kick up the courage to do something about your friendship with Spencer, or move on, you did neither.
"Oh, save it,," you fire back, tossing your bag on your desk. "I’m fashionably late. It’s a thing."
"Yeah, fashionably late in a profession like this. Very chic. Theres other ways to get here you know — from your house-“
“Don’t even” you cut him off.
“Im just saying if you keep missing the same turn off every time maybe it’s a sign you should be going a different way.” He muttered.
“I didn’t miss the turn off.” You argued. You lied.
“You did.”
“No”
He said your name and you huffed.
You roll your eyes, biting back a grin as you sink into your chair. "Can we pretend, just for today, that you’re not right?"
"Well," Spencer says, leaning back in his chair, "I’m only right about ninety-seven percent of the time. So, technically, you’ve got a three percent chance of being right today. Want to take a gamble?"
You throw a crumpled paper at him. "Your math is annoying."
He catches it, eyes twinkling, and throws it back at you. "Annoying?"
“Yes, annoying. It hurts my head”
It’s easy between the two of you—this banter, this back-and-forth. It always has been, ever since the first case you worked together. Over time, it’s become second nature to tease him, push his buttons, and he always gives it right back. The tension slips away with every joke, but today, there’s something different about the way his eyes linger on you a beat too long, like he’s waiting for you to catch on.
You ignore it. You have to.
"So, what do we have?" you ask, holding out your hand for the file in his lap.
He passes it to you, fingers brushing against yours. It’s brief, but the touch sends a spark up your arm. Your eyes meet for a second longer than necessary, and for the first time in a long time, you don’t know what to say.
Spencer clears his throat, looking back down at the file. "This unsub’s a real charmer. I think he's using manipulation tactics to lure his victims. He’s got a pattern, but it’s subtle. Took me a while to piece it together."
"Took you a while? So, like... five minutes?" You grin, but the edge in your voice is gone, replaced by something softer.
He laughs, a sound that always surprises you because it’s rare, but so genuine. "Try thirty. It was a real struggle."
"Wow. I almost feel bad for you."
His smile fades just a little, and when he looks at you again, there’s that shift. Something hovers between you, just under the surface, where the teasing usually stays. His eyes flicker over your face, and suddenly, you wonder if he’s about to say something else, something that would cross the line you’ve never acknowledged before.
Your heart skips, and before you can stop yourself, you lean forward a little. Your breath catches.
"So..." Spencer starts, but before the sentence can land, your phone buzzes on your desk. The sharp sound breaks the moment like a snapped thread. You jerk back, grabbing your phone.
"Hotch needs us in the conference room," you mutter, more to yourself than him, trying to get a grip on the swirling thoughts in your head. "We’ve got a lead."
Spencer blinks, clearly shaken out of whatever that was, and you stand up quickly, focusing hard on the case and not on the fact that you were about two seconds away from… what? Leaning in? Kissing him?
No. That’s not what this is. This is Spencer.
"Race you to the conference room?" he asks suddenly, the playful lilt back in his voice, but there’s still something lingering behind his eyes, a question neither of you seems ready to ask.
"Race? You’re literally taller than me, that’s cheating. I’m wearing heels!!"
"You can run in heels, can’t you?" He shoots you a smirk, the tension easing just enough for you to relax, even if your heart is still racing.
"Could. But i don't want to damage my gorgeous shoes," you huffed, yet already heading for the door.
"Gorgeous shoes?" He repeated, raising his eyebrow.
"Yeah that was actually the name of the shoes when i bought them. They had 'gorgeous shoes' written in big letters across the box." You smiled, tilting your head.
"Really?"
"No."
You make it halfway to the conference room before he catches up, the two of you slipping back into your usual rhythm. But as you walk into the room side by side, the unspoken thing still hangs between you. You don’t talk about it, and maybe you never will, but it’s there.
“Are you still coming over tonight?” He asked, looking down at you, eyes lingering on yours. You nod.
“It’s pizza night. Of course I am.”
And once again, you’re reminded that with Spencer, things have never been as simple as just best friends.
You’re standing in Spencer’s tiny kitchen, flour everywhere. And when you say everywhere, you mean it—on the counters, in your hair, smeared on his cheek where you definitely didn’t mean to slap him with dough earlier.
“This is going really well,” you deadpan, holding up the limp, misshapen pizza dough.
“Um.” He squints as he looks at the mess.
“Well.. you’re the genius who can outsmart anyone but apparently can’t figure out yeast,” you argue, pinning the blame on him. “Is it supposed to look like this?” You muttered, tilting your head.
“I think it’s fighting back. Maybe we’re the victims now.”
You both dissolve into laughter, the kind that makes your stomach hurt. This was supposed to be simple. Homemade pizza sounded like a cute idea, something easy to do on a night off, but it’s turned into chaos. The dough’s not cooperating, the sauce might be too watery, and you’re pretty sure you added way too much garlic. But that’s what makes it fun.
"Okay," Spencer says, hands raised in surrender. "I officially give up. This dough has outsmarted me."
"You’re giving up? Dr Spencer Reid, defeated by pizza dough?" You snatch the rolling pin from him, trying to take over, but the second you press down, the dough tears. "Okay, maybe it’s smarter than both of us."
Spencer steps closer, leaning over your shoulder to inspect the mess you've made. You can feel the warmth of him behind you, and for just a second, everything feels different. The banter pauses. His breath is soft on your neck, his arm brushing against yours as he reaches to touch the dough. Your heart stutters, and you freeze, unsure of what to do next.
But then, with no warning, Spencer flicks flour at you.
"Hey!" you squeal, spinning around to face him, eyes wide. He looks so pleased with himself, a mischievous grin on his face.
"What? You had flour in your hair. I was just trying to help.”
"Sure, you were." You reach for the bag of flour, holding it up threateningly. "I will not hesitate to make this a war, Spencer."
He grins widely, almost daringly.
You grab a handful of flour and toss it at him in retaliation. "You are such a child."
“I’m just helping!” he protests, dodging your attack and grabbing the rolling pin like a shield. His laughter is contagious, and soon you’re both caught up in it, the tension slipping away into something lighter, easier.
You try to swipe more flour at him, but he grabs your wrist, stopping you mid-throw. His fingers wrap around your wrist gently, but the touch sends an unexpected shiver up your arm. You both freeze, the room suddenly too quiet again, his hand lingering on yours for just a second longer than necessary.
His gaze flickers down to where his fingers rest against your skin, and then back up to meet your eyes. There’s a pause, just long enough for the air between you to thicken, something unspoken hanging between you. His thumb brushes your wrist lightly, and you wonder if he feels it too—the tension that’s been simmering all night, just beneath the surface.
You swallow hard, pulling your hand away, but not before you catch the briefest flicker of something in his expression. It’s gone as quickly as it appeared, and just like that, the moment slips away.
His eyes narrow playfully, and for a second, you think he might call your bluff. But instead, he just chuckles and steps back, holding up his hands in mock surrender. "Alright, alright. Let’s not escalate this. We’re adults, after all."
"Adults who can’t make pizza," you mutter, dumping the ruined dough into the trash. "Guess we’ll have to order in. Again."
Spencer wipes his hands on a towel, still smiling. "I’ll let you pick the place this time. As long as it’s not that one with the weird crust you made us try last month."
"Oh come on, that was a bold choice! You just have no sense of adventure."
"I have a very good sense of adventure," he says, leaning casually against the counter, his eyes sparkling in that way that makes you feel like he knows exactly how to get under your skin. "I just like my pizza to taste like pizza."
You roll your eyes, but you’re grinning, too. "Fine. We’ll get the boring pizza this time."
As you both settle into the living room, waiting for the pizza to arrive, you can't help but feel that lingering tension again. The kind that sneaks up on you when things get quiet, when the laughter dies down, and it’s just the two of you sitting side by side, closer than necessary.
You smile, nudging him with your elbow. "Who knew you were such a terrible cook, though?"
"I think we share equal blame here."
"Maybe," you admit, glancing at him. His eyes catch yours, and for just a moment, the playful air between you shifts. It’s small, like the brush of his hand earlier, like the way he’s looking at you now. Your heart skips again, and you wonder—just for a second—if maybe, possibly, you weren’t imagining it. You ignore it, there was too much that could go wrong if you didn’t.
It’s late in the afternoon when you hear the knock at your door. The sun's still out, casting a soft golden light through your living room windows, but it’s the last thing on your mind.
You’re dressed in something more put together than usual because, of course, Penelope had insisted on setting you up on this date tonight. It wasn’t exactly what you wanted, but she’d been so enthusiastic that you’d caved. You’d said yes to humor her, to get her off your back.
She had insisted that you needed something to get your mind off Spencer. You wondered if that was actually possible.
So when the knock comes, your stomach churns, thinking it might be the guy arriving too early. But when you open the door, it's not your date.
It’s Spencer.
He’s standing there, hands shoved into the pockets of his jacket, hair slightly disheveled, and there’s a look on his face you can’t quite place. It’s tight, maybe a little frustrated, though he's trying hard to keep his expression neutral.
“Spence?” You lean against the doorframe, arching an eyebrow. “Everything okay?”
He doesn’t answer right away, eyes scanning you briefly before he looks down, then back up again. There’s tension in his posture, the kind you recognize when he’s overthinking something. “Yeah. Yeah, everything’s fine.”
You don’t buy it for a second. “Uh-huh.”
His face tightens even more, though he tries to hide it with a half-hearted shrug. “Did Penelope set you up with some guy?”
“Yeah?” You squinted trying to figure out how he knew that. You hadn’t mentioned it, you didn’t want to talk about what had caused your sudden date or have to lie to him about why Penelope suddenly set you up when you have shown no intention of being interested in dating.
“Penelope told me. Why didn’t you tell me?” He asked, running his hand through his hair as if he was stressed. You didn’t understand, not really. You told Spencer everything so you could understand why he would be annoyed that you didn’t tell him this, but it seemed as if he took it personally.
You squint at him, crossing your arms. “What is your issue? You look like you want to strangle someone.”
He lets out a huff, avoiding your eyes again. “It’s nothing.”
You tilt your head, studying him. There’s something under the surface, and you’re not about to let it go. “Well you’re here so, obviously its not nothing … What’s going on?”
He finally looks up at you, his eyes sharp and filled with something you haven’t seen before. It catches you off guard for a moment. “It’s just—there was a moment.”
You blink, thrown by the sudden shift. “A moment?”
His voice drops, a little rougher now, a little more real. “Last week. When we were making pizza, and the week before that— and during- there was a moment.”
Your heart skips. You know exactly what he’s talking about, but you stay silent, letting him continue.
“I thought there was a moment,” he says, his frustration starting to leak through his words now. “I thought maybe something was… happening.”
Your chest tightens, the air in the room shifting as you meet his eyes. “There was.”
The confession comes out of your mouth before you even realize it, and the tension between you two spikes instantly, filling the space with an electric charge. You can feel it, the way everything has changed with those two words.
Spencer just stares at you, his brow furrowing slightly, like he hadn’t expected you to admit it. He takes a step forward, you step back almost unconsciously, and your heart beats faster in your chest.
“What are you doing?” you ask, your voice low, unsure.
He doesn’t stop moving, closing the gap between you even more, and his voice is soft but firm when he speaks. “Will you just stand still for a minute?”
Before you can say anything, before you can even process what’s happening, his hand comes up to cup the side of your face, and his lips are on yours.
The kiss is soft at first, almost tentative, but it’s full of all the unspoken things that have been building between you for so long. You feel the world tilt, your hands instinctively moving to grip the front of his jacket, pulling him closer. For a second, everything else fades away—your date, the case, everything.
When you finally pull back, breathless, you just stare at each other. His thumb brushes lightly across your cheek, and his eyes search yours, full of something that feels too big to name.
Neither of you says anything for a long moment, the silence thick and heavy with everything that’s just shifted between you.
Then, as if in slow motion, you take a small step forward. It’s your turn now, the tables flipped, and you can see the surprise flicker in his eyes as he instinctively steps back.
“What are you doing?” he asks, echoing your earlier words, his voice low and a little breathless
You give him a small smile, feeling the tension twist tighter in your chest. “Will you just stand still for a minute?” You mirrored his words
His eyes widen slightly, but he doesn’t move, and before he can say another word, you close the space between you and kiss him again.
This time, it’s different. There’s no hesitation, no second-guessing. The kiss is deeper, more insistent, and you feel his hands tighten around your waist, pulling you closer. It’s like everything you’ve both been holding back is finally breaking free, all the tension and the unspoken feelings rushing to the surface.
When you finally break apart, you’re both breathing heavily, faces inches from each other. Your hands are still gripping the front of his jacket, his fingers still digging into your sides like he’s afraid to let go.
You don’t move, neither of you do. You just stay there, staring at each other, and for the first time in a long time, you’re not thinking about the job, or the cases, or anything else. It’s just him.
He’s the first to break the silence, his voice quiet and almost disbelieving, He exhales, a long, relieved breath, his hand still resting on your waist. “I thought maybe I was imagining it.”
You shake your head, feeling a strange warmth bloom in your chest. “No. You weren’t imagining it.”
Another beat of silence passes, and then his lips quirk up into that small, crooked smile you’ve always liked so much. “Well, I guess we have Penelope to thank for this.”
You roll your eyes but can’t help smiling back. “Yeah, and she doesn’t even know it.”
His thumb brushes your side, a subtle touch, but enough to send a shiver up your spine. “Are you… still going on that date?”
The question hangs in the air between you, and for a moment, you almost laugh. The idea of leaving now, of going out with some guy Penelope set you up with, feels absurd.
“No,” you say, your voice steady and certain. “I’m not.”
His smile widens, just a little. “Good.”
You grin up at him, feeling lighter than you have in weeks. “Yeah? Why’s that good?”
Spencer’s gaze softens, and for the first time, you see the real reason for his frustration, for all of this. He steps even closer, so close that you can feel his breath on your lips, his voice low and sincere.
“Because, there was a moment.”
Your heart stutters in your chest, and you meet his eyes, that familiar warmth spreading through you again. “Yeah?”
“Yeah,” he says, his lips ghosting yours, and the last bit of tension that’s been sitting between you melts away completely. He smiles, and before either of you can say anything else, he closes the gap and kisses you again.
#spencer reid#reidmania#criminal minds#criminal minds show#criminalmindsfans#spencer reid x reader#spencer criminal minds#criminal minds x reader#spencer reid x oc#bee talks#spencer reid angst#spencer reid edit#spencer reid smut#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid criminal minds#doctor spencer reid#dr spencer reid#dr spencer reid mm#dr spencer reid x you#dr spencer reid x oc#spencer reid comfort#spencer reid x self insert#spencer reid x fem!reader smut#spencer reid cm#spencer reid core#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid x fanfiction#spencer reid x fem!reader#criminal mind imagines
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everybody talks
i could not tell you what this is. i wrote it all in one sitting. enjoy or whatever
It starts with the graffiti.
Scribbled in thick, permanent marker across the boys' gym lockers.
STEVE HARRINGTON FUCKS EDDIE MUNSON
The custodian tries half-heartedly to scrub it off, but he only manages to get about a letter and a half off the locker before his shift is over. It's back up by the next day anyway.
Half the school is walking on tiptoes around Steve, waiting for him to blow up and demand a manhunt for the culprit.
The other half is snickering and laughing as he walks by in the halls.
Steve doesn't give two shits. He holds his head up high and walks onwards, ignoring the laughs and the kissy noises. He needs to graduate. He needs to not get eaten by a terrifying monster from an alternate reality. More pressing things happen to Steve Harrington than grade school graffiti.
Until he turns the corner and sees Eddie Munson glaring furiously at his closed locker.
He doesn't speak to him. Even if the graffiti isn't a big deal, there's no need to add any fuel to the fire.
Eddie finally steps forward and wrenches open his locker door. The crowd milling in the halls begins to laugh.
Papers spill out, dozens of them, cascading over the floor and burying Eddie's shoes. One slides all the way to Steve's feet.
He looks down automatically.
There's an atrocious drawing of two stick figures bent over each other. The one on the bottom has two lines of curly hair, while the one on the top has a singular swooping line of graphite.
Great.
Steve swiftly scoops it up and crumples it in his fist, shoving it in his pocket. He'll toss it out later.
As he hustles past Eddie, steadfastly not looking in his direction, he thinks he hears Eddie mutter, "Every class period."
Steve turns a corner, and the train wreck that is Eddie's locker is gone.
He slides into his seat, knowing the band girls who sit in the back corner of the classroom are whispering about him, but finding he couldn't care less.
The teacher starts class.
He reaches into his pocket and slides the crumpled paper between his fingers, over and over.
Steve raises his hand. "Can I go to the bathroom?"
The teacher nods and waves him away, and Steve scrambles out the door, rounding the corner.
Eddie's still there, kneeling by his locker, trying to scoop up papers.
Steve kneels next to him. "Hey."
Eddie jumps like an alley cat that's been spooked. Steve could swear his hair starts bristling, puffing up.
"Your majesty," Eddie finally says, glaring back at the pile of paper like Steve'll disappear if he doesn't look at him. "To what do I owe the pleasure."
It's not really a question.
Steve answers it anyway. "Came to help," he says simply, picking up a piece of paper that has EDDIE MUNSON X STEVE HARRINGTON written on it in bold letters, surrounded by stupid little hearts. "After all, my name's on half this stuff."
"How kind," Eddie said. "Keeping me distracted while your buddies key my van or something?"
Steve reels back. "Huh?"
"I'm not dumb, Harrington," Eddie says, crumpling up another sheet of paper. Steve can barely catch EDDIE HARRINGTON on it before it's balled in Eddie's fist. "I get this is a prank or whatever. I just can't understand why you'd involve yourself with me. The King and the Freak."
"'Cause I'm not the King anymore." Steve says, standing to drag a nearby garbage can closer. It's already half-full of papers. "You sure don't listen to gossip, Munson. Billy beat my ass and I lost every friend I had. So. I think it's a prank on both of us."
"Oh."
Eddie, wonder of wonders, miracle of miracles, shuts the fuck up. Steve had seen people lose their meals to his impassioned school cafeteria rants, but it only takes Steve Harrington to shut Munson's infamous mouth.
Wait, that sounds wrong.
They keep cleaning in silence - relatively. Steve starts balling up the papers and tossing them at the trash can, unable to stop himself from hissing out a yes! if he makes the throw.
"Impressive," Eddie says dryly. "Can you do this?" He raises one hand in the air like he's about to take a pledge, and in the other he folds and rolls a slip of paper until it's shaped like a joint.
Steve chuckles. "Nope." He takes the fake joint, and it comes undone in his palm, revealing the same crude stick figure couple from earlier.
Right.
Steve had forgotten what they were doing here.
Evidently, Eddie had too. He looks down at the drawing, then snatches the paper from Steve, tossing it in the trash, two spots of pink high on his cheeks.
He scoops the last of the papers into his arms, dumping them in the trash can. "You can go back to class," he tells Steve, settling down with his back against the locker.
"What are you doing?" Steve says, slightly caught off-guard by the dismissal.
"Seeing if those pricks will try to do it again." Eddie says, folding his knees up to his chest. "They do it all the time. I think there's a jungle's worth of trees just being used to make shit for my locker."
"You're just gonna guard it?" Steve asks.
"Sure," Eddie says, picking at a piece of lint on his shirt. "What else have I got to do?"
Steve plops himself down next to Eddie. "I'll guard with you," he says stubbornly.
"Seriously?" Eddie asks, like Steve's particularly slow. Steve's gotten that tone of voice a lot in his life.
"Yeah." Steve says. He parrots, "What else have I got to do?"
"You're just gonna fuel the rumors, dude." Eddie says. "My name's mud around here. You know that damn well."
"Sure," Steve shrugs. "But it hasn't been half-bad hanging out with you, and I don't care what these jackasses think of me anymore. Bigger things to worry about."
They settle into a comfortable silence, watching the students pass by, their whispered comments and curious glances bouncing off the duo. Eddie taps his fingers rhythmically on the ground, humming a tune Steve doesn't recognize but finds oddly comforting.
He reaches into his pocket to feel the small paper, then tugs it out. Is it dumb that a stupid drawing is making him think about himself this much?
"Hey, Eddie," Steve starts, hesitating. "Can I ask you something?"
"Shoot," Eddie says idly.
"How do you... I mean, when did you know you were gay?" Steve asks, his voice barely above a whisper.
Eddie's expression turns to one of suspicion, but he answers anyway. "I guess I always knew, deep down. But I really figured it out in middle school." He looks at Steve out of the corner of his eye. "Why?"
Steve bites his lip, considering his next words carefully. "I think I might be... different too. I mean, I've only ever dated girls, but lately, I don't know. I feel... something."
Something means he worried for weeks when Billy beat the shit out of him because suddenly all these feelings were tugging at his brain. Feelings for people like Eddie Munson.
Eddie's eyes widen slightly, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. (What? Steve's not looking at his lips. Huh?) "Steve Harrington, the former King of Hawkins High, might not be straight? Now that's some gossip I'd actually pay attention to."
"Shut up," Steve mutters, but he's smiling too. "I'm serious."
"Well..." Eddie trails off. "We can try it out?"
Steve's heart skips a beat. "Huh?"
"We can try it out." Eddie repeats. "But, uh," he leans close, his breath ghosting over the shell of Steve's ear. "Just so you know, I prefer to be the one on top."
Weeks later, the school is overtaken by a new kind of graffiti. Papers plastered to every surface, a spiky handwriting (usually used to write setlists and D&D character sheets) adorning each and every one of them.
EDDIE MUNSON FUCKS STEVE HARRINGTON
#steve harrington#eddie munson#steddie#slightly suggestive#steddie fic#steddie fanfiction#stranger things#don't ask i don't know. fucking enjoy#also i normally don't give tumblr fics titles but like. i did not want this to show up in my notes as 'steve harrington fucks eddie munson'#so everybody talks it is
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HEY! i knwo your on a break but just incase your bored could you write reader sending spicy texts2 streamer!ellie while shes on like a boss level, and then after ‘raging’ at reader for making her lose, she comes back as if the chat isnt questioning the sounds coming from the other room (silly girl forgot to mute)
hi. tumblr j deleted all my edits to this. i’m rage quitting and j posting this version i banged out in the span of 15 minutes 😀 anyways.
FUCK i’m sorry i know this took fucking forever and now i’m delivering mediocrity. loved this req either way this was smf to write. hope you enjoy sweet girl ;)
me when i disappear for a month and come back only to deliver pure dog shit. 🤪🤪
“-KID JUST GOT FUCKING DESTROYED, FUCKING BITCH.”
it was a late friday night, which meant ellie was streaming in her room, and you were supposed to be studying.
this week ellie was hosting a special in celebration of hitting 10k subscribers, and was grinding away to finally defeat Resident Evil’s final boss.
you could hear the chat dinging away with message after message, no doubt blasting ellie with compliments on her play, and the occasional comment thirsting over her hands or whatnot. it was nothing new— you’d seen the countless edits of her on your own social media page, and even had a folder of your own favorites saved away on a burner account.
“let me suck your fing- WHAT?! that is a crazy thing to say,” you could hear ellie’s shocked voice. “either way, chat, i’m married…”
“where’s my ring? UP YOUR ASS. c’mon, leave me be, guys,” ellie jokingly whined, bantering with her obsessive fanbase.
you held back a smile of your own, hand pressed to your mouth as she continued to scold the chat for their outrageously filthy messages. what a dork.
“alright alright, im muting the chat. love you guys but i gotta focus now! this is serious shit and i’m low on ammo now, hah-ha,” ellie spoke to the screen, words slightly muffled through the thin wall.
in the living room papers lay strewn across the floor, couch littered with eraser shavings and crumpled post-it notes, yourself splayed atop it all.
studying was a long-forgotten task you abandoned to instead sweep lazily through your camera roll, attempting to clear up some much needed storage.
you stopped abruptly at the thumbnail of an old video, in which depicted a downright sinful image of ellie’s bared neck for you as she arched back in pleasure.
you quite literally salivated at the veins that adorned her sweat-glistened skin, naked chest that was just covered by the play button in the center, goading you to click it.
quiet sounds of ellie’s desperate moans picked up, her head coming up look just above the camera and deliver the most pathetically fucked-out look.
“ple-ease can i cum, mommy?” she whined, voice breaking with every thrust of your fingers, wet squelching in the background a sign of her neediness.
“let me hear you, baby,” you heard yourself coo through the screen, the video becoming shaky as you picked up your pace— before suddenly ending on accident right as ellie let out a strangled whimper.
you met it with one of your own, frustrated with being left on an unfinished high, the throbbing at your core impossible to ignore.
your thighs shifted against one another, wetness pooling in your underwear as you replayed ellie’s final sound in your head over and over again.
your trance was broken by the sound of a frustrated groan coming from behind ellie’s door.
“fuck, i got it this time, i got it, swear,” she cursed as the game’s recognizable ‘revive’ audio cue played.
she could just do this again next week, right?
without a second longer of thinking, you quickly screen-shotted a clear frame from the video, shooting it ellie’s way and sending a quick text to follow.
~~
ellie choked on her own spit as she clicked the blur away. cough- “fuck-“ wheeze- “shit-“ hack- “sorry, guys, j choked on my own saliva.”
what the fuck? what games were you trying to play?
you groaned, hearing the firing of guns continue on alongside ellie’s commentary.
sliding your panties aside, you spread your legs to display the mess between them, snapping a quick picture.
you shot back another text.
“just one more hit, one more one more one m- i- fuck,” you hear ellie stutter. “oh fuck, yep… and i’m dead, ‘kay, sorry guys just give me like 5 i’ll be back. gotta take care of something.”
you heard the slam of her headphones hitting the table and a screech of her chair sliding back against the hardwood floors.
the door swung open, the look in ellie’s eyes making your heart race with anticipation.
“hey els, good game?” you asked innocently from your position on the couch, legs crossed with your arm resting over the back.
“good game? yeah, great game actually,” she replies sarcastically, sauntering her way over to you. “you didn’t happen to need something, did you?” she asks, hopping onto the couch and quirking an eyebrow up.
“me? no…” you trail off as she leans in to brush a kiss across your lips.
“no?” she tucks your hair aside, before leaning in to whisper, “you mind spreading those pretty legs for me then, baby? i just want a look.”
“els,” you whine, attempting to catch her mouth in a kiss.
she avoids it, dipping down instead to rasp words against your racing pulse, “show me.”
you uncross your legs slowly, a damp patch darkening the very center of your shorts.
ellie grabs the leg closest to her, swiveling your body in one swift move to face her direction, placing that leg over the back of the couch as she runs her other hand up your opposing leg.
“fuck, els, i need you,” you say breathlessly, hips bucking into the air.
“let’s get these off,” she replies with a squeeze, tugging at your waistband. “wanna tell me what’s got you texting me like a slut in the middle of my stream? was it the video? my video?”
she dips her thumb into your leaking hole, swiping your arousal up in a messy circle over your aching clit.
“ah- shit! yes, fuck, y’sounded s-so pretty in it, els,” you moaned, nerves overly sensitive from the wait. “please,” you cried out, unsure of what exactly you were begging for, but you needed more.
“so fuckin’ needy,” ellie laughs under her breath, relishing in the loud groan that escapes your lips when she replaces her hand with her mouth, tongue flicking rhythmically against your swollen clit to draw out more of those pretty sounds.
“oh-oh, god, right there, so good- mmph,” you rock your hips up, hand scrambling to tug ellie’s mouth even closer to you, if possible.
mmhm she moans into your pussy, the vibrations making you jerk up as your legs clamp tightly around her head. ellie’s hands dash up immediately to shove them apart, pressing them wide open with an iron grip as she practically growls, “you asked for this. so fucking take it.”
two of her fingers slide easily into you with the next pull on your clit, and you’re arching up in a manner almost identical to ellie’s in the video, whining nonsensically.
“you’re dripping, baby,” ellie tuts, “just couldn’t wait for me, huh?”
she continues to pump her fingers deep into you, curling them on every outstroke to slide against the spot that makes you see stars.
“c’mon, cum all over my fingers,” she teases, whispering sweet praises between kitten licks to your sensitive clit.
with your head thrown back, you couldn’t help but moan her name like a fucking prayer as your walls started to tighten, legs trembling under her grasp as she worked you through your high.
“that’s it, soak my fucking fingers.”
~
iluvgirls_moms: THAT WAS 1000% A MOAN
elliesleftarm33: guys what the fuck is happening 😀 ellie babes, i think you forgot to mute.
ewilliamsismy_wife: did anyone else j hear ellie’s name. are the voices getting to me?
elliewsjizzfr6996: how to be ellie’s gf no glue no borax? 🥲🥲
1toesuckersslurper: NAH ITS BEEN WELL OVER 10 MIN IM OUTTA HERE
yeahhh… looks like ellie owes her subscribers a real big 10k special next week. and an apology.
#wlw#lesbian#tlou#tlou2#ellie williams#the last of us#abby anderson#smut#ellie williams smut#ellie tlou#ellie williams imagine#ellie williams x reader#ellie williams headcanons#ellie williams fanfiction#ellie williams tlou#ellie smut#ellie x reader#ellie the last of us#ellie williams fluff#ellie williams fic#ellie x fem reader#ellie williams tlou2#ellie williams fanfic#ellie willams x reader#gamer!ellie#seraphicsentences interacting w her girls#wlw fanfic#wlw smut#drabble
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OK PUT MY NUMBER. - LN4
summary : Based off the gilmore girls scene where Logan and his friends meet Rory at her dorm!! Hope you enjoy <3
listen up : no warnings!! lando!collegereader
word count : 1017
⋆。‧˚⋆
“Okay, Franco. Last building!” A man walks past me as I rearrange the items I'm attempting to carry without dropping. “Please say it looks familiar!”
I grab my coffee and stack of books, eyeing the group of boys who have strayed into the girls' dorms.
“Ahh!” One of the boys says, his eyes closed like he’s trying to manifest his way.
The tallest (and that’s not saying much) and tannest of the group groans, “Apparently it doesn’t seem familiar.” He’s got a thick accent, maybe spanish?
“Hold on!” The other boy with thick waves finally opens his eyes and says, “Hold. On. Yes! Here, this is where she lives!” And for the first time, me being quite nosy, it finally works out in my favor.
They go straight to my dorm. My single dorm.
“Excuse me, can I help you?” I walk closer to them, the one in the back has his hands lazily strewn in his pockets and walks straight past me with no answer.
“Hey!” I follow them to my door where the other two are writing on what looks like a crumpled piece of paper.
“Don’t put your number, Don’t put your number!” His accent surprises me but as I stare at the back of his curly hair, I scoff at me being ignored.
“I’m not putting my number, I’m putting your number!” His friend says, a twinkle in his green eyes
“That’s my room.” I speak up finally, the three turn harshly and eye me.
“Ok, put my number.” The curly haired one, british and ridiculously attractive, says as he smirks.
His eyes examine me as his friend groans, “Are you sure this is your room?”
I nod, “I’m sure.”
“I could have sworn it was her room!”
I balance my books, “What’s her name, maybe I know her.”
“It was uh…” he uses his hands to talk, “Short.”
I raise a brow, “Oh! I can understand your disappointment… losing a potential soulmate like that.” The cute one close to me laughs, “But that’s still my room.”
He motions to me, “I’m sorry about the mix up. It’s just- my friend Franco here needs to learn that Guineess and blondes don’t mix.”
“Redheads.” Franco corrects, “It doesn’t mix with redheads!”
He turns back to me, looking tired, “We sincerely apologize and will now leave you with your…” he eyes my books, “library?”
I frown as the other two run up the stairs, Franco saying his memory is coming back. I slip my key out of my pocket and start to open my door, “It’s called being a college student.” I sigh at the heaviness of my books, though most are for my own pleasure, “I’ll leave you to your friends.” I struggle with my key more, my cheeks getting warm because he’s just staring at me.
The man bites his lip, thinking for a moment, “Ah, they can manage.” Before I know it, his (huge) hands are taking my books from me. I eye him at first but then unlock my door with ease.
“Thanks.” I mumble and step inside, he follows after me and I don’t shut the door. He sets the books down on my table, his eyes darting around.
I watch him push up the sleeves to his blue long sleeve and take him in.
He’s got curls, a clean face, and a muscular build. He's not very tall but still looks down on me. The thing I can’t help but notice is his eyes clashing with his dark hair.
“I’m Lando!” He holds out his hand which I shake with a slightly confused expression, “Sorry again about my friends.”
“Y/n.” I smile politely, wishing I had cleaned up my place or something, “And don’t worry. They're funny.”
He rolls his eyes, “Franco and Carlos are definitely strong personalities!” I laugh, “We’re visiting Carlos’ sister. She’s a freshman…” he looks nervous saying the year, “Francesca.”
“Oh I'm not very clued into the freshman circle.” I shrug, “I’m a senior.”
“Oh shit- I just thought cause the dorm…” Lando shakes his head, “I should have noticed, you don’t look eighteen.”
I raise a brow, “Appreciate it…” He scratches the back of his neck and I laugh purely at the situation of this random British man in my room, “Uh- where do you go to school?”
“Oh I don’t!” He seems happy that I asked him something, “I’d be…” He counts on his fingers, “two years out anyway but I never went to uni. I work with those two muppets.”
“Oh!” I can’t help but mentally scream that he’s in my age range, “What do you do?”
Lando looks nervous again, his facial expressions are undeniably impossible to hide, “We drive.”
“Drive?” He nods, “Like a chauffeur?”
“There’s a car involved.” He holds back his smile as there’s booming footsteps and two heads pop into my room.
“Lando boy!” Carlos grins, “He thinks he remembers!”
Lando looks at me, looking regretful but still walks over to the open door, “See you around, Y/n.” He smiles and god I’ve never seen a smile like that. I feel my cheeks go pink, smiling softly and waving.
“Good luck.”
The door shuts a second later and I immediately bring my books to my makeshift bookshelf, trying to ignore the smile on my face.
I’m being ridiculous, I know I am. He’s older, British, and I will probably never see him again! But at least I can zone out in class about something.
I pull a hoodie over my head when I hear a knock at the door, “Coming!” I yell as I stumble over the clothes on my floor.
Except when I open the door, no one’s there.
I think it’s some bored frat boys until I go to close the door and see a yellow sticky note stuck to the wood.
I look around but there’s no cute man around. I shut the door, leaning against it and smiling down at the note, taking out my phone and typing in the number.
#fanfic#formula 1 fanfic#f1 imagine#lando norris#lando norris fanfic#f1 fanfic#f1 x reader#lando x reader#f1 fic#lando imagine
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“i’m gonna put on a western movie and probably crash in the dean-cave if anyone needs me,” dean announces, crumbling up the piece of paper he’d been failing to make notes on and bouncing it off of sam’s head.
sam sticks up his middle finger and ignores the comment, only glancing up to shoot dean a withering look. except, instead, sam’s gaze catches something else. the way cas is looking at dean, even though dean is currently crumpling another piece of paper to throw at him in retaliation for the middle finger sam had just given him.
the look on cas’ face could only be described as a sad puppy who’d been kicked and was waiting for their owner to bend down and give them affection.
it was almost pathetic, the sheer strength of cas’ puppy dog eyes. and that expression was only ever reserved for dean; a look whenever cas was waiting for dean to invite him to follow in whatever his brother was doing because the two of them were attached at the hip… and inadvertently at the heart, too.
dean chucks another paper ball at sam, snorting in victory when it bounces off his brother’s forehead and gets lodged in his hair.
cas was now looking dejected, shifting his doleful eyes down to the book he was reading for research.
“oh for god sakes, dean, ask cas to join you before he mopes all over that book,” sam sighs.
“ask cas to join-”
“I do not mope, sam-”
dean and cas seem to realize they spoke at the same time and they quickly dart their gaze to each other, then to sam, and back to each other again.
dean scrubs at the back of his neck, ducking his head awkwardly as he nods his head in the general direction of the dean-cave.
sam interprets the action for all of them. “I’m outta here. enjoy your movie date.”
“it’s not a movie date,” dean says defensively.
sam gets up, abandoning his laptop and his drink in hopes of getting away from all the mutual pining before it suffocates him.
as sam rounds the corner and heads towards his room, he hears dean ask cas, “unless you want it to be a date?”
‘fucking finally’, sam inwardly sighs.
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Before the void. “You have a new best friend!?”
part of the fresa universe new best friend II a.putellas
if there was something alexia was used to being the eldest of three, it was an utter lack of peace and quiet. so when she opened the front door after training, body drained and muscles aching with exhaustion and called out hello without any answer back, her guard was up.
her mami's car was in the driveway, evening slippers missing where they normally sat by her door, alba's bedroom light was on and her school uniform was in a crumpled mess on the floor, and your backpack was on your bed, papers strewn about and the sneakers alexia had laced up for you before you left this morning were discarded in the corner.
so then where was everyone?
a second search of the house again didn't turn anything up, and poking her head out the back door the fading late afternoon sun bathed the empty backyard in a soft orange glow.
but right as alexia was about to grab her phone and call someone, she noticed a sliver of light coming from beneath the garage door, eyebrows furrowing in confusion.
nobody had really stepped foot in there the last two years, that used to be your papi's little hideaway from a house full of women, and though it had seldom been changed since his passing alexia knew her mami snuck out there every now and then to speak with him and make sure things were nice and tidy.
but before she could investigate any further there was a bang of a door and the thunder of footsteps through the once quiet house causing her to jolt.
"ale! ale! ale! ale! ale!" the chant had a small chuckle pulled from her lips as she called out she was in the kitchen, sliding the back door closed right as you skidded around the corner.
"catch me!" you demanded, already launching yourself at her before you'd finished your sentence, small body hurtling into alexia who grunted but scooped you up.
"hola!" you chirped happily, kissing her cheek as alexia tapped it expectantly. "hola fresita. and where have you been?" your sister asked with a smile as your arms wound around her neck hugging her tightly.
you were almost eight now and slowly starting to hit a late growth spurt, still smaller than most of your friends and classmates, and definitely a lot shorter than both of your sisters at that age.
but no matter how tall you'd grow alexia would carry you around for as long as you'd let her, so the fond roll of eli's eyes as she spotted you up and in your sisters arms wasn't unexpected.
"we went to the pet store!" you replied with a grin, alexia's eyebrows shooting up in surprise as you wiggled and she placed you back down on your feet, alba trudging in tiredly with her arms full.
"fresa! podrías haber ayudado idiota!" your sister grunted, alexia's confusion furthering at the large glass tank and assortment of objects stuffed inside which alba slowly placed down carefully onto the counter.
"mami?" alexia questioned expecting her to provide some context, eli holding both her hands up silently as her head dipped into the fridge to rummage around and start dinner.
but if you heard alba you ignored her, quickly grabbing alexia's hand and tugging her toward the back door. "come meet my new best friend!" you chirped, practically bouncing on the spot as a new look flashed across alexia's face.
and alba, didn't miss it. "scared you have been replaced?" the younger girl smirked, pouring herself a glass of water as alexia's eyes rolled and you huffed, still trying to yank your sister toward the door but having no luck.
"ale vamos! i want you to meet hector." you ordered, stamping your foot and glaring up at her as alexia looked on, completely lost as to what all of this was about.
"mami? le compraste un perro?" alexia ignored you, tugging her hand from your iron clad grip as you groaned and tried to pull her by the hem of her hoodie instead, batted away again and huffing at your failure.
"sí, un perro durmiendo en un tanque. tonta!" alba snickered as alexia shot her a glare. "ale. ven conmigo!" you whined, hitting her leg repeatedly as your sister sighed and finally looked down at you.
then as alexia glanced back to the tank, her eyes widened.
"aye dios mío is hector a snake!?" your sister asked wide eyed, hands on your shoulders and staring right down at you as you now rolled your eyes, looking scarily like a carbon copy of a much younger alexia which is what alba muttered as she snuck off to her bedroom.
"noo!" you groaned throwing your head back, grabbing her hand again and finally alexia allowed you to drag her outside and toward the garage. "hector is my best friend!" you parroted what you'd been saying all afternoon from the very moment eli picked you up from school.
mondays and fridays were the only days that alexia didn't collect you from school herself as training started earlier.
alba stepped in on fridays and eli on mondays, but alexia thrived in knowing that tuesday-thursday were your favorite as you'd come along to training with her.
and for as long as you could speak, alexia had been more than just your hermana, she had been your best friend, which you'd had no issues telling everyone and anyone who would listen, and alexia herself had also done the same, chest filling with pride every time.
"qué? you have a new best friend!? " alexia scoffed, not even sure what hector actually was yet, but still she felt the tendrils of jealousy prick at the back of her neck that she'd been so easily replaced.
normally whenever she got home from training on a day you weren't with her the moment she stepped through the door you'd be glued to her side like a shadow.
demanding she help with your homework (which she was awful at) play a game with you, read a book with you, help you get ready for bed, sit next to you at dinner, you idolised her.
but you hadn't seen her all day and yet all you could talk about was hector, your new best friend.
"hermana, meet hector! my new best friend." as you threw open the garage door you instantly lit up, gesturing happily to hector as alexia was frozen to the spot staring downward, your delighted little face peering up at her.
alexia wasn't sure what she had expected hector to be, focused too much on him being her replacement as your new best friend.
a turtle, hector was a turtle.
"pequeña. where did hector come from?" alexia squatted down to your height and asked slowly, hands on your shoulders stopping you from running away and eyes bore into yours with a look that warded you off lying to her.
not that you needed to anyway, unlike what alexia was fearing hector hadn't been kidnapped from the local park or the lake.
"school! its my turn to have hector. it was supposed to be elena's turn this week because her last name is omar and my last name is putellas, and o comes before p in the alphabet and-" you started to ramble, slowly straying more and more off track as alexia sighed.
"-but since she has the chicken pox she gets to have the week off school! so i get hector this week, and elena will have him next week." you beamed, clearly very happy with this news but there was two little words that had drowned out the rest of your sentence as alexia's eyes widened.
chicken pox, you hadn't yet had chicken pox.
but it wasn't for lack of trying, in fact eli had done her best to expose all of her girls at a young age knowing that despite being vaccinated most kids got it at least once, and alexia and alba both had it.
but your immune system was strong, and eli had foolishly assumed that meant you'd just not get it, in fact it wasn't common for kids above the age of six to get it.
but it was then that alexia noticed you'd in fact not been bouncing up and down with excitement like she first thought, you'd been itching, and scratching, and wiggling.
you frowned as alexia's arm shot out to grab your hand which tried to sneak its way up the back of your shirt, your back feeling hot and a little itchy you hadn't paid it much attention.
you'd spent the afternoon with hector doing laps up and down on the grass in the backyard, crawling along on your stomach and then when that grew boring you'd resorted to basically doing the backstroke instead much to eli's amusement as she watched on.
so when your tummy and back started to itch, you'd not thought anything of it, but now things were all starting to fall into place in alexia's mind, a little mini puzzle she hadn't realised was there all clicking together.
"oye, ale!" you groaned as your sisters hands grabbed you under your arms, your body going limp like a ragdoll as alexia carried you out of the garage and hurried back toward the house, ignoring your protests and demands to put you back down so you could go hang out with hector or he'd get lonely.
"mami? mami? mami!" alexia's voice grew louder with each shout, eli hurrying into the room, hands still wet from where she'd raced in from the bathroom.
"que? alexia por favor put your hermana down!" eli sighed as you echoed her words, kicking your feet and huffing as they still didn't meet the ground.
"stand still." alexia ordered, a strange look on your face as she finally put you down but on top of the dining table, eli's mouth already opening to yell at her to take your dirty feet off of it, but they died the moment alexia forcefully pulled your jumper and top off.
"ale!" you yelled your protests but they fell on deaf ears as both your sister and mami's faces froze at the little red dots all over your body, an irritated huff leaving your mouth as you scratched your back and winced a little.
"no! no scratching mi hija." eli warned sternly, alexia grabbing your hands and holding them out from your body, refusing to let go no matter how much you cried out your annoyance with her.
"fresa. when did you see elena?" alexia asked, having already filled eli in who rushed off to the bathroom to grab what she needed. "today! before she went home sick with the chicken pox." you rolled your eyes, having already told her this when she met hector.
"can i go play with hector now?" you whined, stomping your foot and blowing a loose piece of hair out of your face. "no pequeña, hector will have to go back to school tomorrow." alexia sighed, stomach dropping as your face fell.
"no! no no por favor. he is not my best friend! you are, i promise! don't make me take him back!" you begged, tears pricking at the corner of your eyes and alexia winced at the obvious pain behind them, watching as your foot lifted to scratch at your legs which were clearly also covered in little red dots beneath your pants.
"por favor do not make me take him back. you are my best friend ale, you!" you tried to pull your arms free and launch at her in a hug, alexias heart cracking further as she had to continue to hold them away from you, knowing the moment she let go you'd be itching again.
"hey hey no mi fresita. it is not because of that!" alexia cooed softly, recognizing she needed to intervene as you were teetering on the edge of a meltdown. "elena has chicken pox, sí?" your sister asked as you nodded with a sniffle.
"well. you also have chicken pox nena, see?" alexia moved your arm so you could look at it, nodding to the little dots all over it as you frowned. "no. thats from the grass! i was playing with hector!" you shook your head as eli returned, a tub of calamine lotion in hand.
"no hija, it is from the chicken pox. you are itchy, no?" eli asked gently as you slowly nodded, not quite understanding. "chicken pox gets worse if you scratch mi amorcita, and this will make it less itchy." eli explained, popping open the tub and showing it to you as you sniffed and immediately recoiled.
"no!" you took alexia off guard and yanked your arms out of her grip, jumping off the table and sprinting off as alba appeared and was almost bowled over, opening her mouth with a scowl to yell after you.
"get her!" alexia spoke first, running off after you as alba paused for a moment, hearing a loud crash and a yell before you zoomed past her again, dodging eli who reached for you next.
"chicken pox. vamos!" alexia shoved alba who opened and closed her mouth but after a moment to process sprinted off into the backyard where you'd raced off to.
but she was too late as seconds later alexia stepped out of the garage, you firmly thrown over her shoulder and hector in her other hand, his little shell fitting perfectly in her grip as you wriggled and tried to get free.
one thing was for certain, this was going to be a long week, and if you didn't know it yet you'd know it soon, but you were going to need your best friend.
and turtles and classmates aside, alexia knew that would always be her.
#woso x reader#alexia putellas x reader#alexia putellas imagine#alexia putellas#woso#woso community#woso fanfics#woso imagine#woso blurbs#🍓☀️
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