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redroomreflections · 1 month ago

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Her Best Secret Part 3

1950s Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader

Summary: Natasha and R are having an affair.

Note: ENJOY =)

w/c:6.3k

Routine. It’s what you value. It keeps you grounded when everything else feels too big or uncertain. Your days were pretty much the same. Wake up, shower, make breakfast, and prepare Claire for the day. If you were lucky, you could steal a moment for yourself—just a few minutes of quiet before the demands of the day swallowed you whole.

Claire sat at the kitchen table, legs swinging back and forth, eating her favorite Cornfetti cereal. The sugary loops crunched between her teeth, and you can’t help but frown slightly. You’d rather she ate something healthier—fruit, maybe oatmeal—but Sam had insisted once, grinning as he poured the rainbow-colored pieces into her bowl. “Live a little,” he’d said.

So now, Cornfetti was her favorite. You moved through the kitchen with rehearsed ease, cracking eggs into a pan while the toast popped up behind you. Sam’s thermos was already filled with coffee, and you'd packed his lunch: leftover chicken, a few snacks, a note tucked inside that says, Have a great day. You’re unsure if he reads them anymore, but you wrote them anyway.

Sam came into the kitchen just as you were plating his breakfast. He was still wearing his undershirt, his tie loosely around his neck. He smelled like aftershave and the soap you bought last week, which constantly reminds you of cedarwood.

“Good morning,” he said, pulling you into a hug from behind. His arms were warm and solid, and you momentarily let yourself lean into him. He kissed your temple, then glanced at Claire, who happily shoveled cereal into her mouth.

“Morning, Daddy,” Claire waved, her voice cheerful and unbothered, her small hand sticky from the milk dripping off her spoon.

“Cornfetti again, huh?” Sam teased as he plucked a piece of toast from the counter.

You shrugged, trying to match his lightheartedness. “You’re the one who started it.”

“And she loves it,” he said, grinning as he leaned over to tousle Claire’s hair. “Right, Claire-bear?”

Claire nodded enthusiastically, her cheeks puffed like a chipmunk with a mouth full of cereal.

The nickname caught you off guard. It wasn’t new, not by any means. Sam had called her that plenty of times before. But the first time—the very first time—wasn’t his. It was Natasha's.

You still remembered the unbidden but warm day it slipped from her mouth. Claire was about fourteen months old then. She held Natasha’s hand, pulling her toward the garden to show her a flower she’d plucked. “Come on, Claire-bear,” Natasha had said, the words soft and affectionate, as if they’d belonged to her all along.

Natasha. The name sent a pang through your chest, and you wondered if missing someone more than you did now was possible.

You missed Natasha fiercely, missed the way her eyes sparkled when she teased Sam, or how she always stole a piece of your food from your plate. You missed her soft voice when she read to Claire how she made up stories about dragons, magic, and princesses, which Claire would beg her for. It's not like she was unobtainable. Natasha was three doors down. Always there. Always constant. Except she wasn’t. Not anymore.

"Earth to Mommy," Sam chuckled. You looked up, and his brows were furrowed in concern. "Where'd you go?"

You blinked and shook your head. "I'm here. Just...thinking."

"About what?"

"Nothing," you said, forcing a smile. "Just what we're going to do today. I'm thinking of taking Claire to the park to play."

You turned away before Sam could see the lie on your face.

The morning passed without much else happening, and soon enough, it was just you and Claire.

******

The television played quietly in the background, the black-and-white image of a man in a suit shaking hands barely registering to her. Natasha stood at the ironing board, focusing on smoothing the faint creases in Steve’s pale blue shirt. It was one of his favorites, and he had a meeting today. She’d promised it would be ready.

Her hand stilled for a moment, her mind somewhere else entirely. The room smelled faintly of starch and lavender. On another day, this might feel peaceful, but not today. Not when her thoughts kept circling back to the way you’d smiled. The way your laugh echoed in her head, even now. Then, her thoughts turned bitter. The way you'd left her house. Her kiss on your cheek wasn't supposed to be goodbye.

The phone rang, breaking her from her thoughts.

"Hello," Natasha answered, the cordless receiver tucked between her ear and shoulder. She silently hoped it was you. But instead, it was Jane, her cheerful neighbor.

"Good morning, Natasha. It’s Jane."

Natasha forced a polite smile, though no one could see it. "Hi, Jane. How are you?"

"Good, good," Jane replied warmly. "Just wanted to remind you about dinner tonight. You and Steve are still coming, right?"

"Yeah," Natasha said, her eyes flicking to the iron in her hand. The shirt was only half done, and the distraction was welcome. "Do you need us to bring anything?"

"Just yourselves," Jane replied with a light laugh before hesitating. "Oh! Is Y/N coming too?"

Natasha blinked, caught off guard. She gripped the phone a little tighter, her heart skipping a beat. "Y/N?"

"Yeah," Jane said. "I mean, you’re so close. I figured she’d be joining you. It’d be nice to catch up with her. She didn’t answer my call this morning."

Natasha scrambled for a response, her usual composure slipping. "Oh—uh, I’ll ask her," she said quickly, trying to sound nonchalant. "I’ll make sure she comes."

"Great," Jane said, oblivious to Natasha’s unease. "Tell her I’m looking forward to seeing her. It’s been too long."

"Will do," Natasha murmured, her voice quieter now.

"All right, see you tonight!" Jane chirped before hanging up.

Natasha set the phone down slowly, her hand lingering on it as if it might ring again. She exhaled sharply, trying to push down the knot forming in her chest.

"I’ll make sure she comes," she had said. But the truth was, Natasha had no idea what you’d say—or if you’d even want to come.

She picked up the iron again, smoothing Steve’s shirt with slow, deliberate movements. Yet her mind wasn’t on the fabric or the faint hum of the local news in the background. It was on you. Always on you.

********

Natasha hadn't seen you for three weeks. Not that she was counting. She'd come outside to check the mail. She gazed three doors down, silently hoping—half-ashamed at how much she was expecting—to see you on your lawn. Sure enough, there you were, kneeling on the grass with Claire, holding her tiny hand as she attempted to blow a bubble with her new wand.

Natasha paused at the mailbox, thumbing through the envelopes without seeing them. She should have just gone back inside. There was no reason to linger. But her eyes betrayed her, darting back to you before she could stop herself.

You laughed, the sound carrying easily, and she felt something twist in her chest. Her fingers tightened on the stack of mail as if to steady herself.

It wasn't until Claire pointed in her direction that she realized she’d been caught. You glanced up, shielding your eyes from the sun, and Natasha quickly dropped her gaze to the stack of mail as if it was suddenly the most fascinating thing she’d ever seen.

It wasn't until she heard the pitter-patter of little feet along the concrete. She looked up, and sure enough, Claire was running towards her.

"Natasha," the toddler shrieked, her tiny arms stretched wide.

“Hi, sweetie,” Natasha replied, crouching down just as Claire barreled into her. Tiny arms wrapped tightly around her neck, and Natasha couldn’t help but smile, the tension in her chest easing for the first time all morning.

“Claire! Claire Elise Wilson!” Your voice carried across the lawns.

"Natasha, I got new bubbles," Claire lisped, her words slightly garbled but no less enthusiastic. She paid your calls no mind, too engrossed in sharing her news.

“New bubbles? That’s awesome!” Natasha replied, her tone warm and indulgent as she adjusted Claire on her hip.

You jogged over, brushing your hands on your shorts as you approached. “I’m sorry,” you said quickly, cheeks flushed—not from the sun but from embarrassment. “She’s been in a mood today.”

Natasha raised an eyebrow, but the look was playful.

"Really? She doesn't seem like she's in a mood," Natasha said, turning her gaze to Claire, who grinned and buried her face in her neck.

"I am," Claire said, her voice muffled but still bubbly.

"Well, that's unfortunate," Natasha replied, trying her best to sound disappointed, which earned her a giggle from Claire. "I guess you won't be able to show me your bubbles."

"No, I can show you," Claire insisted, leaning back and pushing her lower lip into a pout. "Please, Nat?"

Natasha chuckled and gently tapped Claire on the nose.

"Okay, okay. You can show me," Natasha replied with an amused shake of her head.

"Can we go to the park too?"

Natasha's smile faltered slightly, her eyes flicking to you.

“Claire,” you said gently, trying to keep your tone even. “I think Natasha has things to do today.”

“Nooo,” Claire whined, clinging tighter to Natasha. She rested her head against Natasha’s shoulder, her small hands gripping tightly. “I wanna stay with Nat.”

You bit the inside of your cheek, shifting uncomfortably. “Claire, come on,” you said. “Let’s go inside. It’s almost time for lunch.”

Claire shook her head. “No. I want Nat.”

Natasha patted Claire's leg and slowly released the little girl from her arms. "Listen to your Mama."

"But—"

"Don't worry, we'll see each other later," Natasha promised, smiling softly.

Claire frowned, her lips pushed into a pout. "Promise?"

"Promise."

Claire finally nodded, accepting her fate. She reached for your hand, and you took it.

"Bye, Nat," she said, waving.

You started to turn away, but your steps faltered. There were so many thoughts swirling around in your head. There were so many things you wanted to say to her. You gripped Claire's hand a little tighter. Natasha straightened, watching you intently, her posture tense. Her lips parted as if she might say something, but no words came.

You turned back, your eyes meeting hers briefly before they darted to the ground. The words you wanted to say sat heavily on your tongue, but they felt too raw, too uncertain. You swallowed, the lump in your throat threatening to choke you.

"I just..." you started, your voice trailing off. You hesitated, glancing at Claire, then back at Natasha.

Natasha's expression softened, but there was a flicker of anxiety in her gaze. She didn’t push or prod; she just stood there waiting like she always did.

"I need time," you finally mumbled, barely audible.

Natasha nodded slowly, her jaw tightening ever so slightly. "Okay," she said softly, her voice steady despite the flicker of something—hurt, worry—in her eyes.

You nodded, too, your throat tight. Without another word, you turned and walked back toward your house, Claire skipping beside you, blissfully unaware of the tension.

Natasha stood alone on the sidewalk, her eyes still fixed on where you were standing. Her fingers curled into fists, nails digging into her palms. She watched the door close behind you, and suddenly, it felt like the distance between you had never been greater.

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

Jane and Louis Redman's dinner parties were always the highlight of your summers. They lived across the street, and you spent most weekends with Jane and Natasha. You'd gossip, talk about men, and drink iced tea until the sun started to set.

This night, though, was different.

You stood at the bottom of the Redmans' driveway, nervously twisting your watch around your wrist. It was a nervous habit that you thought you'd broken years ago. Apparently not.

You should've just stayed home. Maybe even feigned a stomachache or something. Instead, here you were, waiting to be invited into a place you once considered your second home. Sam stood next to you, his hand in his pockets and the other holding onto Claire's.

Claire tugged on Sam's hand, her gaze darting between you.

"Mommy, are we going?" Claire asked.

Sam glanced at you, his eyes narrowing in confusion. You hadn't said a word since you'd arrived, and now you were just standing outside, staring at the Redman's house.

"Yeah, we are," Sam said, his voice light. He squeezed Claire's hand and took a step forward.

You followed them, and the three of you walked up the driveway together.

"Are we gonna eat, Daddy?"

Sam smiled. "Of course. But remember what Mommy told you. You have to behave and eat your veggies."

"But I don't like green beans," Claire grumbled, wrinkling her nose.

"I know, but they're good for you. You'll like them eventually."

You opened the front door, the familiar smell of home-cooked food and laughter wafting out.

"Y/N!" Jane greeted, her face lighting up. "Sam, Claire!"

"Jane, hi," you replied, mustering up a smile.

Jane pulled you into a warm hug. "It’s so good to see you all. Come in, come in!"

Sam greeted Jane with a smile and a polite nod before scooping Claire into his arms. "Smells great in here. Let me guess—your famous pot roast?"

"Of course," Jane said with a laugh. "I’ve got a few more dishes in the kitchen. Y/N, would you mind giving me a hand?"

"Sure," you said quickly, grateful for the distraction. You followed her into the kitchen, glancing briefly toward the living room where everyone else was gathered.

That’s when you saw Natasha.

She stood by the mantle, chatting quietly with Steve, her hand resting lightly on the back of the armchair he occupied. Her red hair was swept in soft waves, and she wore a sleek, dark green dress that hugged her figure perfectly. It wasn’t anything over the top—modest but elegant, perfectly Natasha.

You caught yourself staring and quickly looked away, focusing instead on the dishes Jane had laid out on the counter.

"Everything smells amazing," you said, forcing a bright tone as you picked up a dish of roasted carrots.

"Thanks," Jane said, shooting you a knowing look as she handed you a serving spoon. "Louis and I have been testing new recipes, so let me know what you think."

You nodded, trying to focus on the task as your heart raced. Natasha hadn’t noticed you—or at least, you didn’t think she had. But you could feel her presence.

"Y/N," Jane said, her voice snapping you out of your thoughts. "You okay?"

"Yeah," you said quickly, offering her a small smile. "Just a little tired."

Jane didn’t push, but her gaze lingered momentarily before she returned to the food.

You carried the dish to the dining table, carefully setting it down to avoid looking toward the living room again. But you didn’t need to look—you could feel Natasha’s eyes on you now, and it took every ounce of willpower not to glance back. It was going to be a long night.

*********

The table was cleared, and coffee and wine cups and pie slices replaced the remnants of roast beef, mashed potatoes, and green beans.

Around the room, couples settled into their usual places, sharing stories and laughter. It felt good for your mind to be on something else for a change. Jane leaned into Louis’s side, her hand resting on his arm as she told a story about their youngest getting into the flour bin that morning. Wanda sat on the floor, her legs crossed under her skirt, as she picked at a piece of pie while Vision chuckled beside her.

You sat on the couch next to Sam, your hands perched on his lap as he rubbed your arm soothingly.

Natasha sat in the armchair across the room, her posture relaxed, though her eyes darted to you more often than she’d like to admit. Steve, ever the gentleman, offered to refresh Jane’s coffee, leaving Natasha with her hands wrapped around her untouched cup.

The children’s chatter and occasional shrieks of laughter filtered in from the playroom down the hall. Jane and Louis’s three kids—Emma, Michael, and Daisy—were busy keeping Billy, Tommy, and Claire entertained. The adults hardly noticed when one child peeked into the room to snag another cookie before disappearing again.

Louis chuckled as he reached for his glass of wine. "You know, I had a funny conversation with a few of the guys at work the other day. We were talking about gender roles, of all things. Some were adamant that a woman’s place is at home, raising the kids and keeping the house in order... you know, the usual. I had to bite my tongue because it felt like stepping into the 1800s."

Vision raised an eyebrow, leaning back into his chair. "Well, what did you tell them? I mean, not everyone can afford to have someone stay home all the time, can they?"

Louis laughed. "I just told them I had a hard time believing anyone would be happy with being cooped up all day. We need both parents working—at least in this generation. If anything, the man's job is to keep the kids entertained while the wife goes to work."

The men around the room laughed, and you couldn’t help but shake your head.

"You don't agree y/n?" Louis asked. He was baiting you. You didn't honestly want to contribute. You tended to get passionate about these topics. But the alcohol loosened your tongue, and you found yourself responding anyway.

"I just don't think we need to pigeonhole ourselves into traditional roles," you replied, your tone light but firm.

Louis gestured to you, his gaze turning to Sam, who shrugged.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Louis asked.

"I'm not saying the woman can't be a housewife. Or that the man can't do housework. We need to stop making it a competition.

"Competition?" Wanda repeated, her eyebrows raised in surprise. "It's not a competition, y/n. Not unless you want it to be."

You shook your head, ignoring the sudden heat in your cheeks. "I'm not saying it's a competition. I'm just saying we need to stop acting like there's some kind of hierarchy. If the woman goes to work, the man is less of a man. Or if the man does the cooking, then the woman is somehow inferior."

"You make a valid point," Vision said. "We have made quite a few assumptions about gender roles."

"Right, which is why we shouldn't assume anything. We should just...do what makes sense for us."

Wanda tilted her head, a smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. "I suppose so," she said, her tone light. "Though, I still think it's much more comfortable being a woman. You guys are the ones with the balls."

Another round of laughter filled the room, and even you couldn't help but grin.

"All right, all right," Jane said, her smile warm and bright. "Enough about gender roles. Did you guys hear about Georgia Park one street over? She found out her husband was having an affair and has a secret family."

"You're kidding," Louis said, his eyes wide. "That's a new level of cheating."

Jane nodded. "I heard he was living with the other woman and their kids. Georgia said they've been married for twenty years, and he had a second family right under her nose the whole time."

"That's crazy," Sam blurted. The conversation shifted quickly, but Natasha and you stayed quiet, each processing the information in your way. While the others were shocked and animated, you felt uncomfortable at the gossip, unsure if you should participate.

"That's... awful." Wanda frowned. You shifted uncomfortably in your seat, avoiding eye contact, and let your fingers brush the edge of your wine glass, trying to distract yourself from the topic. "I can't imagine how she must feel."

Natasha looked down at her hands, her voice low but steady. “People are capable of some strange things, aren't they?" She glanced briefly at you, her eyes more intense than usual."It's... not something I'd want to be involved in."

You nodding, swallowing a bit, not wanting to add anything too personal."Yeah, I think it’s better to just... leave it alone. I mean, it’s not our business, right?"

Wanda shrugged."I guess. Still, it's hard to let go of something like that.”

Natasha glanced at you, her expression softening."Sometimes we have to just let it go, though."

You looked up and met her gaze. Your chest tightened at the look in her eyes, and for a moment, it was just the two of you in the room. Then, Sam's voice broke the silence.

"That's enough of that. Who wants to play a round of cards?"

Natasha blinked, the spell broken, and turned away.

"Oh, yes. That sounds fun," Jane said, her enthusiasm bubbly and warm.

"I'm in," Louis chimed in.

The group quickly dispersed, and you excused yourself to the restroom.

Natasha watched you go, her eyes lingering on your retreating form.

In the bathroom, you gripped the edge of the sink, your reflection staring back at you. You took a deep breath and tried to steady your hands, which betrayed your nerves by trembling just enough to make you fumble with the compact mirror you’d pulled from your bag.

You focused on reapplying your lipstick, the repetitive motion of the tube sliding over your lips grounding you in the moment. It was better than thinking about why you were here. Better than admitting, even to yourself, that you’d come knowing full well Natasha would be sitting at that dinner table. It was better than acknowledging the ache in your chest that hadn’t entirely gone away since the day you walked out of her home.

You’d been the one to end it. You’d said it wouldn’t work, that the two of you were kidding yourselves.

The bathroom felt too small, the walls pressing in as your mind replayed her words from earlier. "Sometimes we have to let go." Its weight settled in your stomach, heavy and unrelenting. Was that how she felt about you now? Had she let go? And if she had, why did she look at you like that? Like she still felt so much for you.

Moments later, you stepped out of the bathroom. The conversation in the den had gone to a low hum, and no one seemed to be talking.

"Where's Natasha?" You asked as you stepped into the den. The redhead's absence was noticeable.

"She went home to fetch her favorite drink," Steve replied.

"Oh," You nodded. "I am just going to go check on her. "

"The two of you are so attached at the hip; I love it," Jane commented, giving you a friendly grin.

You ignored the playful jab, too distracted by the sudden urge to speak with Natasha. You had to find her.

You walked outside toward Natasha’s house, the familiar path feeling strange beneath your feet tonight. You arrived at the front door, hesitated, and then pushed it open. The familiar warmth of her home greeted you, but tonight, something different about it made it feel less like the sanctuary it usually was.

You found Natasha standing by her home bar. She looked so at ease, yet distant in a way you hadn’t seen before. She was dressed in her dinner outfit, and the tension you’d both felt earlier hung in the air.

She glanced up at you, her expression flickering with surprise before she masked it with her usual calm demeanor. “What are you doing here?” Her voice was steady, but the question had a slight sharpness, unintended but there nonetheless.

You froze for a moment, your heart skipping a beat at the sudden coldness in her tone. It wasn’t like her to sound like that, and you weren’t sure how to respond. You took a breath and tried again.

“I just—” You hesitated. “I wanted to check on you. You seemed distant earlier, and I thought maybe we could talk.”

There was a brief silence, and Natasha stood still, eyes scanning you before her arms folded loosely over her chest. “I’m fine,” she said, but the words didn’t come with the usual certainty this time. They were quiet, almost as if she wasn’t entirely convincing herself.

You stepped closer, avoiding her momentary gaze as you glanced around the room, letting the silence sit for a second longer. “I know you’re fine,” you said softly. “But I still wanted to see you. To make sure you were okay.”

"Well, now you see," Natasha said. "If you don't mind. I'm trying to figure out how to drink this entire bottle of vodka before I go back."

You nodded. You wanted to say anything, but the words wouldn't come. There was too much to say, and the silence between you stretched.

Natasha fixed her eyes on the bottles in front of her, and you stood awkwardly by the doorway, your thoughts swirling.

"I didn't mean to hurt you," You began. You closed your eyes with a sigh. That's a cliche way to start. But what else could you say?

"I know," Natasha replied, her voice low and her back still turned to you.

"I just didn't want..." You trailed off.

Natasha finally looked up. Her eyes were glassy; her jaw clenched tight.

"Y/N," She sighed, her gaze flicking away. "It's okay."

"No, it's not," You shook your head. "I panicked."

Natasha let out a long breath. "I know."

You stared at her momentarily, watching as her features softened slightly.

"I didn't want to ruin things," You confessed. "Between us."

Natasha tilted her head slightly, her gaze still averted. "We're fine," she said, almost whispering.

You took a step forward, reaching out a hand tentatively, letting it rest on her arm.

Natasha's gaze finally flicked up to yours, and there was no trace of anger or frustration for a moment. Instead, she looked at you with a sad sort of understanding.

"I'm sorry," You murmured, your hand falling away.

Natasha took a deep breath and then straightened. "Let's not talk about this right now, okay?"

You swallowed, a lump in your throat. "Okay."

There was a pause. Then, Natasha finally broke the silence.

"Did you need anything else?"

"No, I—" You faltered, realizing the answer wasn't entirely true. "I mean, I'm here, aren't I?"

"Right," Natasha said, her tone suddenly formal, as if she were talking to a stranger.

You looked down at the floor, wishing you could take back the last few minutes.

"Do I mean something to you?" She asked suddenly.

You froze. Your heart was pounding, and your palms were sweaty. "Of course you do."

"But do I matter?"

"Of course you do," You repeated.

"Then why did you push me away?"

"I didn't."

"Yes, you did," Natasha said, her voice cracking.

"Natasha, I didn't. I'm sorry. I was scared."

"So am I."

"I'm sorry."

"So am I."

You were silent for a moment.

"What are we going to do?"

Natasha turned away, her expression unreadable.

"Nothing," she said, her voice a whisper.

"You're the first woman I've ever cared about," You whispered, the words spilling out before you could stop them. "I don't understand what I feel. I love Sam."

Natasha took a deep breath, and for a second, you thought she might turn back to face you.

"I have to get back," She said instead. "They'll be wondering where we are."

"But I also care for you," You stopped her from walking past you. "I also know when you're upset. Usually, I'm not the one to upset you, but there's something else." You guessed.

"I'm fine," She replied, her voice stiff. "Thank you for coming over. Goodbye, Y/N."

"Wait." You reached out, catching her hand and squeezing gently.

Natasha paused, her eyes darting to your hands before meeting your gaze.

"What?" She asked, her voice quiet.

"Can we... can we just talk for a second?"

Natasha nodded, her shoulders slumping slightly as she relented. "Okay."

"Are you mad at me?"

"I'm not," Natasha sighed.

"But are you?"

"No, I'm not." Natasha ran a hand through her hair. "I'm disappointed, I guess."

"Why?"

"Because I wanted this to be different. Because I thought we were different."

"We are," you said, your voice soft.

"Then why did you say everything to me and then run?"

"Because I panicked," You replied, the words coming out more harshly than you intended.

"You're an idiot."

"I know."

"I care about you, too," Natasha said, her voice wobbling slightly.

"I'm glad."

Natasha nodded and took a deep breath.

"I'm sorry."

"Me, too."

Natasha eyed the vodka bottle, biting her lip nervously. It was an effort not to cry; she didn't like to cry in front of people.

"I, um, I thought that I was pregnant before," She admitted, her voice slightly crackling. "I wanted to come and tell you, but we weren't talking."

"Natasha," You breathed. You knew how much it would mean for her.

"I went to the doctor," She continued. "I took a test. I had blood drawn. I waited in that room for so long only for it to be negative."

"Oh, Nat.." You couldn't find the right words, but you wanted to tell her how sorry you were.

"Which was fine," Natasha nodded to herself. "It was fine. I can't be someone's mom. I'm too unpredictable. I can never stay in one spot. I don't love my husband, but I can't leave him either. No baby deserves that."

"But a baby would love you, Natasha. It's impossible not to," You whispered.

"Maybe. But a baby deserves a better life than I could give," Natasha said.

"It wouldn't matter," You insisted.

"How do you know that?"

"Because you'd love it," You said simply.

"Love isn't enough," Natasha said. The weight behind her words unsettled you.

"Love is all you need."

Natasha let out a humorless laugh, shaking her head.

"You have no idea what I need," She said, her voice cracking.

"That's not true," You replied. "I do. And what you need is love. Love is everything."

"I need stability, y/n," Natasha said, her voice firm. "Isn't that why you ran?"

"I didn't—"

"You did," Natasha cut you off, her voice soft but unwavering. "You were afraid of getting hurt. Of getting caught. Of people knowing that you like to sleep with women."

"That's not it."

"Then what is it?"

"I don't know," You sighed. "I don't know what I'm doing anymore."

"Neither do I," Natasha said, her voice softening.

"The first time we kissed, I felt like I was going to die," You confessed, your eyes fixed on the floor. "And the next time, I felt like I was going to live forever."

"Me too," Natasha whispered.

"When we kissed again, I didn't want it to end. But when we woke up, I didn't know what to say or how to act. And when I went home, I didn't know how to be with Sam. Not after that. So, I just... pushed you away. But I didn't want to. I still don't."

"So, why did you?"

"Because I was scared."

"Scared of what?"

"Of what it meant."

"I'm scared, too," Natasha said, her eyes filling with tears. "But I'm not running. "

"What are we going to do?" You whispered.

"We could keep sneaking around. But sooner or later, we'd have to tell someone. And that would be the end of it."

"Or we could try," You said.

"Try what?"

"To be together."

"You're married." Natasha furrowed her brows. "Last time I checked, so am I."

"I know," You whispered. "Can we just sit for a minute?" You gestured over to the couch.

"Alright," She nodded, following you.

You sat down, leaning back into the cushions.

Natasha sat beside you, her hands folded in her lap.

You turned to face her, studying her features. "You're beautiful," You said, unable to help yourself.

"I'm tired," Natasha sighed.

"Are you really?"

"Of hiding. Of lying."

"Me, too," You admitted.

"I'm sorry that I got angry with you," She began. "It's not fair of me to ask so much of you. I wasn't thinking of Claire's well-being also."

"It's okay," You reassured her. "I shouldn't have left. I just panicked."

"It's been hard."

"It has."

"Do you still want to do this?" Natasha asked.

"What do you mean?"

"Be with me. Like this. Whatever it is."

"I think so," You replied, your voice barely above a whisper.

Natasha studied you carefully, her green eyes softening just a little though her tension was still evident. She exhaled deeply, leaning back into the cushions beside you. “You think so,” she repeated, her voice carrying a faint trace of uncertainty.

You looked down at your hands, clasped together in your lap, the words catching in your throat. “I—I don’t know how to say it. I’ve thought about us every day since I left. I know I was wrong to walk away like I did. I just…” You trailed off, searching for the right words. “I’m scared, Natasha.”

Her lips pressed into a thin line as she nodded slowly. “You think I’m not? You think I don’t lie awake some nights wondering what happens if we get caught? If we hurt the people we care about?” She paused, glancing at you. “But I can’t stop thinking about you either. I can’t pretend this doesn’t matter.”

Your chest tightened at her admission, and you felt the sting of unshed tears in your eyes. “I don’t want to hurt anyone,” you said softly, your voice trembling. “But I don’t know how to stop wanting this. Wanting you.”

Natasha reached for your hand, lacing her fingers through yours. She squeezed gently, her touch warm and reassuring.

"Tell me this is more than just sex for you?" You began. "Because, Natasha, I..."

"It is," she whispered, her gaze fixed on yours.

You swallowed hard. "I care about you," you murmured, your voice low and unsteady. "So much."

Natasha smiled weakly. "Me, too."

"You're my best friend."

"And you're mine."

"I love Sam," You began.

"And I care for Steve," Natasha replied.

"I want him. But I can't imagine losing you," You breathed, the words hanging heavy between you.

"I don't want to lose you, either," Natasha said, quiet but firm.

"So, where does that leave us?"

Natasha sighed, her gaze drifting down to the floor.

"We keep it a secret," she said. "Only for a little longer. I promise. Until we're ready."

"And when will that be?"

"I don't know," she admitted.

You hesitated.

"Are you okay with this?" Natasha asked, her voice tentative.

"I don't know," you said. Natasha nodded. You studied her face. "You look beautiful tonight."

"Thank you," she murmured. "So do you."

You bit your lip, your gaze flickering to her mouth.

"May I kiss you?" You asked softly.

Natasha smiled faintly.

"Yes."

You leaned in slowly, pressing a gentle kiss to her lips. She kissed back, her mouth soft and warm against yours. You inhaled her scent, the smell of her shampoo filling your senses, and you sighed into the kiss, the tension in your body dissipating.

After a moment, Natasha pulled back, her gaze intense.

"Natasha, I need to tell you," You breathed. "I really think-"

"Am I interrupting?" Wanda questioned as she stepped further into the house.

You jumped, startled, and quickly broke away from Natasha, turning to see her standing by the entrance with an unreadable expression.

"Hey," Natasha greeted, her tone calm and casual as if nothing was amiss. "Sorry, Wanda, we got a little wrapped up in girl talk."

"Oh, that's okay," Wanda smiled politely.

"What's going on?" You asked, trying to regain your composure.

"Nothing. I just wanted to make sure the two of you were okay."

"Yes, we're just fine," Natasha said, nodding.

Wanda's eyes lingered between the two of you for a moment, her smile still in place, but there was a flicker of something unspoken behind her calm expression. "Okay," she said finally. "Just wanted to check. Everyone's getting ready for cards, and Sam said we shouldn’t start without you.”

You nodded, your voice shaky as you replied, “Thanks, Wanda. We’ll be right there.”

Wanda nodded and stepped back toward the door, but not before her gaze landed on Natasha again. “Don’t keep us waiting too long,” she said lightly, her tone teasing but carrying a subtle undertone you couldn’t quite place. With that, she turned and disappeared through the door, leaving you alone again.

Natasha exhaled softly, running a hand through her hair. “That was close,” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.

You turned to her, your heart still racing. “She knows, doesn’t she?”

Natasha gave a faint shrug, her lips pressed into a thin line. “Wanda’s smart. She probably has suspicions but won’t say anything unless she’s sure.”

You chewed on your lip, anxiety creeping in. “Maybe this is a sign that we must be more careful.”

“Or maybe,” Natasha said, her voice firm but gentle, “it’s a sign that we need to stop pretending we don’t matter to each other.” She reached out, her fingers brushing lightly against yours. “What do you want to do?”

You hesitated, your eyes flickering toward the door where Wanda had just left. Then, you looked back at Natasha.

"I don’t know what this is supposed to look like,” you admitted. “But I know I want to figure it out—with you.”

Natasha’s expression softened, and she gave a slight nod. “Then let’s take it one step at a time,” she said. “No rushing, no overthinking. Just… us.”

A faint smile tugged at the corners of your lips as you let her words settle over you. “Okay,” you whispered. “One step at a time.”

Natasha held your gaze for a moment longer, then stood, her hand lingering on yours as she pulled you gently to your feet. “We should get back before Wanda starts playing detective,” she said with a slight smirk.

#natasha romanoff #black reader #black widow x reader #natasha x reader #natasha romanov #black widow x female reader #natasha x you #herbestsecretau

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divinelyparkjimin · 9 months ago

Text

— taste of you [m] | pjm.

◦ summary ↠ getting yourself off to your childhood friend’s sexual escapades was definitely not on your radar, but seems like it should’ve been a long time ago.

◦ pairing ↠ jimin x reader

◦ word count ↠ 5.2k

◦ genre ↠ smut, fluff, angst-ish

◦ content warning(s) ↠ fuckboy!jimin, childhood friends to lovers, roommate au, suggestive/explicit content, dirty talk, thigh riding, penetrative sex, ejaculation, f. and m. orgasm, oral sex, fingering, vouyerism (?), masturbation, alcohol consumption

a/n: i put together another one for you guys! hope you enjoy <3

masterlist

Sitting on the couch in the living room, you held a book in your lap, though you hadn't turned a page in the past twenty minutes. The soft glow of the late morning sun filtered through the sheer curtains, casting a warm light on the cozy apartment. The space was a blend of both you and your roommate, Jimin’s, personalities: your collection of plants thriving in the corners, and Jimin's eclectic mix of posters and musical instruments scattered about. A framed photo of the two of you at your high school graduation hung on the wall, a reminder of the years you had shared.

Your eyes kept drifting to the hallway, waiting for the inevitable sound of Jimin's bedroom door opening. The apartment was unusually quiet this morning, the calm before the storm. Sure enough, the door creaked open, and you heard the soft, murmured goodbyes. A minute later, a petite, pretty brunette emerged, looking slightly disheveled but clearly satisfied. She glanced at you with a polite nod, her high heels clicking softly against the hardwood floor as she made her way to the front door. The scent of her perfume lingered in the air, mixing with the aroma of fresh coffee.

Jimin followed shortly after, wearing his usual post-hookup grin. His dark hair was tousled, and his t-shirt was slightly wrinkled. There was a certain smugness in his stride that was both infuriating and oddly endearing. He stopped in the doorway, leaning casually against the frame, his eyes twinkling with mischief.

"Another one, huh?" you quipped, raising an eyebrow as you set your book aside. "Didn't you have a girl over just last night? What’s going on, Jimin? Suddenly in heat after being a big ‘ol virgin in high school?"

Jimin chuckled, running a hand through his messy hair. "Guess I'm making up for lost time," he said, flashing you a playful wink.

You shook your head, unable to keep the smirk off your face. "Never thought I'd see the day. The shy boy next door turned playboy extraordinaire. What happened to you?"

He shrugged, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "People change, you know."

As he sauntered into the kitchen, you followed, trying to ignore the flutter in your stomach. The kitchen was bright and airy, with sunlight streaming through the large windows. The small dining table where the two of you often shared meals was cluttered with the remnants of breakfast: an empty cereal bowl, a half-finished cup of coffee, and a plate with crumbs. Jimin moved to the coffee maker, his back muscles rippling under his shirt as he poured himself a cup.

"You sure you're okay with this?" he asked, turning to face you, his expression suddenly serious. "I mean, if it's bothering you, I can tone it down."

You forced a laugh, waving off his concern. "It's fine, Jimin. We're adults. You can do what you want."

But the truth was, it wasn’t fine. The more you tried to brush it off, the harder it became to ignore the growing tension inside you. Each night, as the sounds from his room filled the apartment, you found it increasingly difficult to sleep. The moans, the bed creaking, the unmistakable intimacy—it all sent a shiver down your spine, making your cheeks flush and your heart race. You’d lay there, staring at the ceiling, trying to push the images forming in your mind aside. But the curiosity and arousal were impossible to ignore. You started seeing Jimin in a way you never had before, wondering what it would be like to be one of those girls.

Mornings became a minefield of awkward encounters. You’d bump into his overnight guests in the kitchen, exchanging polite smiles and trying to mask your discomfort. Jimin, for his part, seemed oblivious to your internal struggle. He would flash you his usual bright smile, completely unaware of the turmoil he was causing within you.

One morning, as you poured yourself a cup of coffee, you couldn’t help but steal glances at the girl Jimin had brought home the night before. She was stunning, with perfect hair and a confident air that made you feel oddly inadequate. You wondered what Jimin saw in her, and whether he had ever looked at you the same way. The thought sent a pang of jealousy through you, but you quickly shoved it aside, forcing yourself to act normal.

This newfound awareness of Jimin’s sexual escapades was driving you crazy. You found yourself unable to concentrate on anything, your mind constantly drifting back to the sounds and sights that had become a part of your nightly routine. The more you tried to ignore it, the stronger the feelings grew.

As the days passed, your curiosity began to flourish further and further towards lust, which it was already quite a lot of. You started paying more attention to Jimin, noticing the way his muscles flexed when he moved, the way his eyes sparkled when he laughed, the way his voice deepened when he spoke to his conquests. You were seeing him in a completely new light, and it was both exhilarating and terrifying.

That evening, after a particularly loud night of giggles and thumping from Jimin's room, you found yourself in the kitchen, brewing a pot of chamomile tea in a desperate attempt to calm your nerves. The door to Jimin’s room opened, and you heard soft footsteps approaching. You stiffened, your heart rate picking up as Jimin entered the kitchen, shirtless and looking annoyingly perfect despite the late hour.

“Can’t sleep?” he asked, leaning casually against the counter.

“Yeah, something like that,” you replied, trying to keep your voice steady.

He grinned, clearly oblivious to the turmoil he was causing. “Didn’t mean to keep you up,” he said, his tone teasing. “Or maybe I did,” he added with a wink.

You rolled your eyes, though a small part of you couldn't help but appreciate the sight of him. “You’re impossible, Jimin.”

He stepped closer, and you could smell the faint scent of his cologne mixed with something uniquely him. “You know, if you ever need a distraction…” he started, his voice dropping to a low, seductive tone.

Your breath hitched. “Don’t joke about that,” you said, more harshly than you intended.

He looked taken aback, his playful expression fading. “Hey, I was just kidding. Are you okay?”

You sighed, turning away to pour your tea. “I’m fine, Jimin. Just tired.”

But you weren’t fine. You were far from fine, a potent mix of jealousy and desire taking root within you. It was like your body had a mind of its own, going into heat anytime you’d cross paths with him.

It felt strange to you, considering this was the boy you’d grown up with for such a huge portion of your life. You’d been by his side when he was an ultra nerd, when he wouldn’t dare make a move on a single girl. You’d never imagined you could ever see him as more than that, but here you were.

“Jimin, can I ask you something?” You felt your heart skip a beat.

“Anything,” he replied, his expression soft.

“Why do you do it?” you asked, surprising even yourself with the question. “All the girls, I mean.”

He seemed to ponder this for a moment, then shrugged. “I don’t know. It’s just…easy, I guess. No strings, no complications.”

You looked at him, trying to keep your voice steady. “But isn’t it lonely? Doesn’t it make you feel empty?”

Jimin shrugged, a nonchalant smile on his face. “Not really. I’m just having fun, you know?”

Your chest tightened, but you kept your tone light. “You’re not as invincible as you think you are, you know. One day, you’re going to meet someone who makes you want to risk everything.”

He laughed, shaking his head. “Maybe, but I’m not worried about that right now. I’m just taking things as they come.”

You nodded, though your mind was far from at ease. “I hope you find what you’re looking for, Jimin.”

He gave you a casual smile. “Thanks. And hey, don’t worry about me. I’m doing just fine.”

You forced a smile in return. “Yeah, I know. Just take care of yourself.”

And with that, you returned to your room, plunging onto the soft cotton sheets that covered your bed. The memory of his teasing words lingered in your mind. “You know, if you ever need a distraction…” His voice had dropped to a low, seductive tone, and though you’d laughed it off at the time, the suggestion had planted a seed in your mind.

Alone in the dim light of your room, your thoughts wandered back to Jimin. You couldn’t deny the magnetic pull you felt towards him, the way your body reacted to his touch, his voice, his presence. You found yourself imagining what it would be like to take him up on his offer, to let him distract you in the most intimate way.

Your hand drifted down your body, your breath hitching as you let your fantasies take over. You imagined the feel of his strong, thick thighs under you, the way they would flex and shift as you rode them. The thought made your pulse quicken, and you let out a soft sigh, your fingers tracing lazy circles over your skin.

In your mind, you could see Jimin’s intense gaze, feel his hands on your hips, guiding you. The way his muscles would ripple under your touch, the low growl of his voice as he whispered your name. You imagined the way his thighs would feel beneath you, strong and steady, the friction igniting every nerve in your body.

Your breathing grew heavier, your movements more urgent as you lost yourself in the fantasy. The thought of being with Jimin, of feeling him in such an intimate way, sent waves of pleasure through you. You could almost hear his voice, feel his breath against your skin, the heat of his body enveloping you.

It wasn’t long before your fantasies reached their peak, your body trembling with release. You lay there for a moment, catching your breath, your mind still filled with images of Jimin. The intensity of your desire surprised you, and you couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like to turn your fantasies into reality.

The next weekend, Jimin knocked on your bedroom door, poking his head in with a grin. “Hey, you got any plans tonight?”

You looked up from your book, raising an eyebrow. “Not really. Why?”

“I’m heading to the club with some friends,” he said, stepping inside. “You should come with us.”

You shook your head, laughing softly. “You know I’m not into that scene, Jimin. I’m fine here.”

He walked over to your bed, sitting on the edge. “Come on, you’re always sitting at home. One night out won’t kill you. It’ll be fun, I promise.”

You sighed, setting your book aside. “I don’t know. I wouldn’t know what to do there.”

Jimin smiled, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “Just let loose for once. Dance, have a few drinks, and enjoy yourself. I’ll be there with you the whole time.”

You hesitated, biting your lip. “I’m really not sure. It’s not my thing.”

“Please,” he said, giving you his best puppy-dog eyes. “Do it for me? I hate seeing you cooped up all the time.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at his expression. “Alright, alright. I’ll go. But if it gets too much, I’m leaving.”

“Deal,” Jimin said, standing up and pulling you to your feet. “You won’t regret it, I promise.”

You rolled your eyes playfully. “I better not.”

As you got ready, you felt a mix of excitement and nerves. Jimin was right—you rarely went out, and maybe it was time to change that. You put on a nice outfit, something that made you feel confident, and met Jimin in the living room.

“Ready?” he asked, smiling warmly at you.

“Ready,” you replied, feeling a flutter of anticipation in your stomach.

With Jimin by your side, you set out for the club, wondering what the night had in store.

The music was loud, the lights were dazzling, and the drinks were flowing. After a few shots, you felt more relaxed, the alcohol dulling your inhibitions. Jimin stayed close to you all night, dancing and laughing in a way that made you feel like you were the only two people in the room.

The club was packed, a sea of bodies moving to the throbbing bass that reverberated through the air. Flashing lights painted the room in hues of blue and red, creating an almost hypnotic atmosphere. You and Jimin had already downed a few shots, the alcohol buzzing warmly through your veins, making everything feel a little more vibrant and a lot less restrained.

You found yourselves on the dance floor, pressed close together by the throng of people. The music pounded around you, a sultry beat that seemed to dictate the movements of your bodies. Jimin's hands found your hips, pulling you against him, and you didn't resist. You’d never felt his touch in a way so intimate before. The feel of his body so close to yours was electrifying, and you let the music take over, swaying in perfect rhythm with him.

Jimin’s breath was hot against your ear as he leaned in to speak, his voice barely audible over the music. “You’re a really good dancer,” he murmured, his lips brushing against your skin.

You shivered, pressing closer to him. “So are you,” you replied, feeling bolder than usual. The alcohol had stripped away your inhibitions, leaving you more daring and less concerned about the consequences.

As the song changed to something even more sensual, Jimin's hands roamed a bit more, sliding up and down your sides, occasionally grazing the small of your back. Each touch sent a jolt through you, making your heart race. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him even closer, your bodies moving as one.

Your faces were inches apart now, and you could see the intensity in Jimin's eyes. There was something different about the way he looked at you tonight—something that made your pulse quicken and your breath hitch. His eyes flickered to your lips, and for a moment, you thought he might kiss you right there on the dance floor.

“You’re driving me crazy,” he whispered, his voice husky and filled with something you couldn’t quite identify—desire, perhaps, or something even deeper.

“Good,” you whispered back, the word escaping before you could think better of it.

The tension between you was palpable, a current that made every touch, every brush of skin against skin, feel like a spark. You weren’t sure how much longer you could stand it. The alcohol had dulled your fears but sharpened your desires, and all you wanted was to close the small gap between you and feel his lips on yours.

Jimin seemed to feel the same way. His grip on your waist tightened, and he leaned in even closer, his lips almost touching your ear. “You wanna head back?” he suggested, his voice barely more than a breath. “It’s feeling a little stuffy in here.” You nodded, simply wanting to be alone with him. You quickly bid your friends goodbye, before taking off.

Jimin took your hand in his, leading you through the crowd and out of the club, the cool night air hitting you like a shock after the heat of the dance floor. The tension between you was still there, simmering just below the surface.

The ride home in the Uber had been a blur, the tension between you growing with each passing second. You both sat close, his leg pressed against yours, the occasional brush of his hand against your thigh sending sparks through your body. You exchanged lingering glances, the desire in his eyes reflecting your own.

Back at the apartment, the door had barely closed behind you before Jimin was on you again, his hands on your waist as he backed you against the wall. The electricity between you crackled in the air, making every nerve in your body stand on end.

“You have no idea what you do to me,” he murmured, his voice low and intense as he looked into your eyes.

You shivered, pressing closer to him. “I think I’m starting to get an idea,” you replied, breathless.

He leaned in, capturing your lips in a kiss that was both tender and hungry, as if he had been waiting for this moment forever. You kissed him back with equal fervor, your hands tangling in his hair as you pulled him closer.

The kiss deepened, growing more intense as the pent-up tension between you finally found release. His hands roamed your body, sending shivers down your spine with every touch. You could feel the heat radiating off him, matching the fire that burned inside you.

Just as things were escalating, Jimin suddenly pulled back, breathing heavily. “I can’t do this,” he said, his voice strained.

You blinked, trying to process his words. “What’s wrong?” you asked, your heart sinking.

He shook his head, running a hand through his hair. “I don’t think I can do this with you.”

“What are you talking about?” you asked, your heart sinking at his words as your throat grew tight. “You do this all the time. Why is it any different with me?”

Jimin sighed, looking tormented. “Because it’s not the same. It’s... it’s different.”

You felt a mix of anger and sadness rising. “Different how? Were you not liking it?”

“No, it’s not that,” he said quickly, reaching for your hand. “I just… really care about you. And I don’t want to just have a quick, meaningless hookup with you.”

His confession left you stunned. “What do you mean?” you whispered, your voice trembling.

“I thought sleeping around would make it easier to stop thinking about you, but it’s never felt right.” Jimin took a deep breath, his voice tinged with regret. “I can’t treat it like you’re just another girl because you’re not. I’ve always wanted it to be you, but I knew I didn’t really stand a chance.”

You felt a lump in your throat, tears welling in your eyes. “So you’ve been avoiding me because you care about me?”

He nodded, looking both vulnerable and relieved. “Yes. I know it sounds messed up, but I didn’t know how else to deal with it. I didn’t want to ruin what we have.”

You took a step closer, your heart pounding. “Jimin, I want you too. I know I said it didn’t bother me, but it’s honestly been driving me insane. I couldn’t help but feel jealous whenever you’d bring all the girls in, you know?”

His eyes widened with surprise and relief. “You did?”

You nodded, feeling a mixture of hope and longing. “Yes. I wanted you, Jimin. I still do.”

The air between you crackled with unspoken desire as you closed the gap between you, your lips meeting in a kiss that was filled with all the emotions you had kept bottled up. This time, it wasn’t just about lust—it was about love and longing, and the connection you both craved.

As the kiss deepened, you felt Jimin’s hands on your back, pulling you closer. This time, there was no hesitation, no holding back. You both knew what you wanted. Jimin slipped his firm hands beneath your thighs, lifting you up in a swift movement, keeping his lips connected to yours. You locked your legs around his torso, arms placed around his neck.

His lips felt perfect against your own, the pillowy feeling of them pulling you deeper into the moment. You gasped for air every now and then, but were not given much of a break before the two of you were at it again, more passionate than before. Your fingers traced along the back of his neck as you were buried in each other’s faces, occasionally gripping at his hair.

“F-Fuck Y/N, I’ve wanted this so bad,” Jimin croaked, heavy breaths escaping his lips.

“Trust me, I have too.” You chuckled, pecking his nose before going back into his lips. You found yourself sucking on his bottom lip and had each other’s tongues periodically crossing the barriers between the two of you.

Jimin placed his hands at your ass, as if for a better grip on you, before carrying you over to his bedroom. The journey there was a shaky one, as neither of you could seem to separate from basking in the feelings of one another. Upon arrival, he set you on his bed, before pulling off his shirt and crawling atop you.

Your eyes followed him with delight, staring up at him with doe eyes that he couldn’t help but grin at.

“God, you’re so cute.” Jimin’s hand rose up to touch your face, his large thumb swiping along your cheek. He pecked the same spot, sending shivers down your spine. He then leaned back, his eyes taking in your form with a mix of admiration and desire.

Slowly, you tugged at the hem of your own shirt, pulling it over your head and tossing it aside. Jimin's eyes darkened as he took in the sight of you, and his hands quickly followed, exploring the newly exposed skin. His touch was both gentle and possessive, making your body arch into him with every caress.

Jimin's lips traveled down your neck, leaving a trail of hot kisses that made you shiver. He nipped at your collarbone, eliciting a gasp from you as his hands roamed over your curves. You felt his fingers fumble with the clasp of your bra, and within moments, it was discarded, leaving you bare to his hungry gaze.

“Beautiful,” he murmured against your skin, his lips finding their way to your breasts. He took his time, savoring each kiss and lick, driving you wild with need. Your hands roamed over his toned back, feeling his muscles flex beneath your touch as he continued his ministrations.

You couldn’t wait any longer. Your hands traveled down his torso, fingers tracing the lines of his abs before reaching the waistband of his jeans. You fumbled with the button, your eagerness evident as you finally managed to undo it. Jimin chuckled softly, a sound filled with both amusement and anticipation.

“Eager, aren’t we?” he teased, but his voice was thick with desire. He helped you with the rest, quickly shedding his jeans and boxers. The sight of him, fully naked and aroused, sent a jolt of anticipation through you.

He leaned back down, capturing your lips in a searing kiss as his hands made quick work of removing the last of your clothing. Now, with nothing between you, the heat of his body against yours was almost overwhelming. You could feel the evidence of his desire pressing against you, making your own arousal spike.

Jimin’s hand slid between your thighs, his fingers teasing your entrance before slipping inside.

“Fuck, you’re tight,” he muttered. “I guess you really haven’t gotten any in a while.” A sly smirk appeared on his face as your face turned into a face of shock.

“Hey—!” you began, before you were cut off by his hand covering your mouth.

“Shh,” Jimin whispered, his eyes darkening with desire. “Let me take care of you.”

You moaned into his mouth as he pressed further against your g-spots. Your hips bucked against his hand as he worked you with skilled, deliberate movements. Every touch, every stroke, brought you closer to the edge. His fingers thrusted inside you, curling to hit that perfect spot that made your vision blur even harder.

Your moans grew louder, the sound filling the room as your body tensed, every muscle tightening in anticipation. Jimin’s other hand slid up your body, cupping your breast and rolling your nipple between his fingers, adding another layer of sensation to the mix.

“Jimin, I’m so close,” you panted, your hips moving in time with his thrusts, chasing the climax that was just out of reach. He bit down gently on your earlobe, his breath hot and ragged in your ear.

“Come for me, baby. I want to feel you,” he growled.

The combination of his words, his touch, and the raw intensity in his eyes left you pooled with desperation. Your orgasm hit you with a force that left you breathless, your body convulsing around his fingers as waves of pleasure crashed over you. You cried out his name, your nails digging into his back as you rode out the climax.

Jimin didn’t stop, continuing to pump his fingers inside you, prolonging your pleasure until you were a quivering mess beneath him. When he finally pulled his hand away, he brought his fingers to his lips, licking them clean with a satisfied smirk.

“God, you taste amazing,” he said, his eyes dark with lust as he looked down at you. You were still catching your breath, your body humming with the aftershocks of your orgasm.

“Jimin,” you breathed, reaching up to pull him down into a kiss. Your tongues tangled together, the taste of yourself on his lips adding to the intimate connection between you.

He pulled back slightly, resting his forehead against yours. “Ready for more?” he asked, his voice a low, seductive murmur.

You nodded, your heart racing with anticipation. “Always,” you whispered, your body already aching for his touch again.

It was not long before his lips were back in contact with your skin, trailing kisses down your body which left a scorching path from your neck to your navel. Every touch sent shivers through you, your skin tingling with anticipation. When he reached your thighs, he gently spread them apart, positioning himself between them.

“Jimin…” you breathed, your voice barely a whisper. The sight of him, his eyes locked onto yours with such intensity, made your heart race.

“I’ve always wondered what you’d taste like,” he murmured, his tone laced with eagerness. He leaned in closer, his tongue flicking out to taste you. The sensation made you gasp, your hips bucking involuntarily.

“God, you’re perfect,” he groaned, his hands gripping your thighs to hold you in place as he continued his exploration. His tongue moved with expert precision, each stroke sending waves of pleasure through you. He sucked gently on your clit, making your head spin and your breath come in ragged gasps.

“Jimin, please,” you begged, your fingers tangling in his hair as you tried to pull him closer. The need for release was overwhelming, every nerve in your body on fire.

He looked up at you, his eyes filled with lust and satisfaction. “Not yet, baby. I want to make you feel everything.”

As the intensity between you reached its peak, you felt a surge of boldness wash over you. Breaking away from the kiss, you looked up at Jimin with flushed cheeks and a determined gleam in your eyes.

"Jimin," you breathed, your voice barely more than a whisper, "I want to ride your thigh."

His eyes widened in surprise, but a smirk quickly spread across his lips. "Hell yeah," he replied, his voice husky with seduction. “I didn’t know you were into that.”

You straddled his thigh, feeling the heat of his skin against yours as you positioned yourself just right. With a shaky breath, you began to move, your hips rolling against him in slow motions.

The friction was exquisite, sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body with each movement. Jimin's hands roamed your curves, guiding you as you found a rhythm that drove you both wild.

You threw your head back, letting out a low moan as the pleasure built to an almost unbearable level. Jimin's thigh provided the perfect amount of pressure, hitting all the right spots and pushing you closer and closer to the edge. Despite the immense feelings of pleasure, it didn’t seem to be enough, so you wanted more.

“I need you, Jimin,” you breathed, barely able to form the words as pleasure clouded your mind.

He didn’t need any more encouragement. Aligning himself with you, he slowly pushed his length inside you, filling you completely. The sensation was both intense and intimate, making you gasp as your bodies finally joined.

Jimin set a slow, steady pace, his movements deep. Each thrust sent waves of pleasure through you, building steadily until you felt like you might burst. His lips never strayed far from yours, kissing you with a passion that matched the intensity of his movements. The familiar sound of his headboard banging against the wall filled the room as his thrusts grew rougher. It was a noise you were used to hearing from the other side of the wall, but were now able to experience for yourself.

Your hands clutched at his shoulders, your nails digging into his skin as you rode the waves of pleasure. The rhythm between you was perfect, a dance of desire and emotion that brought you closer with every thrust.

“Jimin, I’m gonna—” you cried out, unable to hold back any longer.

“Do it, Y/N. Come,” he urged, his voice a low growl.

The orgasm hit you like a tidal wave, crashing over you with an intensity that left you trembling. Your vision blurred, your mind going blank as pleasure consumed you. Jimin continued to lap at you yet again, drawing out your climax until you were completely spent. Jimin held you close, his own release mingling with yours, the connection between you deeper than it had ever been.

Finally, he pulled away, crawling back up your body to capture your lips in a slow, tender kiss. As the waves of pleasure subsided, you lay there, wrapped in each other’s arms, your bodies still entwined. Jimin pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead, his breath warm against your skin.

“That was amazing, Y/N,” he whispered, his voice filled with contentment. In that moment, everything felt perfect, the years of friendship and unspoken desire finally culminating in something beautiful.

Jimin chuckled softly, breaking the silence. “So, does this mean we can make this a regular thing?”

You laughed, playfully swatting his chest. “Are you saying you can’t get enough of me already?”

“Pretty much,” he grinned. “I don’t I could ever get enough of this.” His eyes sparkled with mischief as they drifted down the length of your body.

You smiled, feeling a warmth spread through you. “Neither do I, Jimin.”

With that, you both settled into a comfortable silence, cuddled close, bare skin against bare skin. As the night grew quieter, the rhythm of your breathing began to sync, and you found yourselves drifting off to sleep in each other’s arms.

a/n: feel free to leave a comment or slip into my inbox to let me know what you think! feedback is always appreciated :>

masterlist

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spidermans-l-o-v-e-r · 5 months ago

Text

I Was Made For Lovin’ You

Pairing: Eddie Diaz x Reader

Word count: 2.6k

Notes: Yall come to me for 9-1-1 and 9-1-1 only and it makes me giggle. Here’s your regularly scheduled 9-1-1 content

Day 5: Obsession

Eddie rolls over, pulling you closer to him and snuggling into you

“Good morning beautiful”

You open your eyes slowly, rubbing the sleep from them, and look up at him. He kisses your nose and you smile, cupping his cheek.

“You want breakfast?” He mumbles, kissing your hand and you nod, rubbing your fingers through his hair with your other hand and pulling him down to kiss you

“So pretty in the morning… makes me want to repeat last night all over again”

You blush, whacking his chest and he chuckles deeply, the sound rumbling in his chest as he pulls away from you and drags himself from your warmth and out of bed.

“Need help getting dressed?”

You reach for him, falling onto your stomach on the bed, and playfully swat his bare ass. He bats your hands away, laughing.

“Hey! We’re supposed to be getting dressed. You know better than to put your hands on me”

He grabs your wrists, pulling you up and pushing you back down onto your back, and climbs on top of you.

“Then again…. I suppose we have a little time”

Eddie smirks, sliding his hand under the covers, his fingers finding your clit, rubbing it in slow circles.

Your back arches, moaning his name softly as you settle back into the pillows and open your legs easily for him.

“That's my girl.” Eddie's thumb presses down on your clit, rubbing it harder now, his middle finger slipping inside you, making slow, deep thrusts

“Fuck you’re so wet for me” He whispers in your ear, groaning as he feels you clench around his fingers “That’s my good girl, shit you’re so good”

He leans down, kissing your neck as his hand works you. His other hand comes up to your breast, kneading it softly and playing with your nipple. He lives off of your sweet little noises, that deep purr as you swirl your hips in time with his fingers, and the slow lazy pace they’ve set.

“You like that, don’t you?” He chuckles darkly, nuzzling into your breasts, leaving hot, wet kisses on them making you clench around his fingers even more. He increases the pace of his thrusts, his thumb rubbing your clit in rapid circles, his fingers curling inside you.

“Fuck you’re so hot” You can feel him grinding against your thigh now and your eyes roll back. You reach down, fisting his cock and jerking him off in time with your thrusts.

It’s over faster than he’d like but he doesn’t mind, he’s gotta get to work anyway. Your body trembles with your orgasm, soaking his fingers and he lets out an animalistic groan as he cums on in your hand.

He pulls his hand away, licking his fingers clean and grinning widely when you do it too.

“Such a good little toy” He kisses you breathless and pulls away, his knees a little weak as he gets out of bed

“What a way to start our morning” He purrs, grabbing your ankles and sliding you to the end of the bed. You squeal and he laughs, kissing your ankles and down your thighs.

“Soon, baby girl” he taps his cock against your pussy, smearing his tip through your messy folds, and watches your eyes roll back. “Soon.”

He finally manages to pull away from your trap, from the soft curves and the pouting glances. It takes everything in him not to get back in bed and give you everything you’d both been craving. But no, he’s gotta be strong. He has to wait until the right moment.

He smiles as you come out of the bathroom in a soft pink dress. So sweet and shy for him. He takes your hand and leads you into the kitchen.

“I’m sorry I don’t have much time for breakfast anymore doll, but I feel like that was totally worth it. I’ll get coffee on the way to work”

He pulls your chair out for you, helping you into it and pushing it in, like the perfect gentleman. He pours you both a bowl of cereal and you pour the milk in, he boops your nose before handing you your spoon.

He listens to you chatter on about your plans for the day, listing all the things you need to make sure you get done at work and all the things you need to do after work.

“You’re still coming to the firehouse right?”

“Oh, that’s right! I have to deliver that tray of muffins!”

He’s pleased you’re coming, because he hadn’t had the absolute honor of introducing you to his friends yet, he was going to wait until things got a little more serious but this opportunity had presented itself so he took it.

“You’re gonna do great baby, they’re going to love you” He reassures you and you run a hand over your frazzled locks. He smiles a little worriedly and reaches out, cupping your cheek.

“Hey, it’s gonna be okay. Your day will be just fine. I’ll be there later to see you okay? And if anyone messes with you, you just tell me. You know you can tell me anything, I’m here to support you”

You smile softly at him, kissing his palm and going back to finishing your cereal. You set up your phone to watch a few episodes of SpongeBob (it was your comfort show okay) and Eddie sighs.

“You’re gonna be late, set a timer” he warns you and you roll your eyes

“I’m not gonna be late this time,” You say as you set the timer on your phone and he kisses your forehead

“Good girl”

As soon as you’re both done he sets the bowls in the sink and tilts your chin up to kiss him goodbye

“I’ll see you later beautiful, have a good day okay? And seriously don’t be late”

You give him the sweetest smile, positively beaming as he leaves the house. He doesn’t want to leave you but he doesn’t really have much of a choice, his workday starts before yours does. Especially since he’s getting coffee on the way to work. He shuts off his iPad and gives it a little kiss before tossing it onto the counter and heading out.

He finally pulls into the mostly empty parking lot and turns off his car, messing around on his phone for a bit until a pink car comes pulls into the lot a few spots down from him. That’s his cue. He gets out of his truck, shoving his hands into his pockets, and getting to the door just before she does

“Good morning Y/N!” He says cheerily, opening the door for you

“Oh! Morning Eddie!” He takes the box you’re carrying and you go into the shop, flipping on the lights

“You know where to put that, I’m sorry I’m late. I got a little caught up”

“Hey, you’re the one opening early for me. I should be grateful. And I am” he walks past you and into the back of the shop where he sets the box of supplies down and comes back to lean in the doorway, watching you put on your pink apron.

Buck introduced him to this coffee joint months ago and said Tommy’s cousin worked there and could get him a free coffee in the mornings. It was definitely straight up Buck’s alley, it was happy and cheerful and very green. There were plants all over the place, it was overall very cozy and laid back.

“So what’ll it be today?” You ask as you stand in front of him

“You on the menu?” He smirks as pushes off the doorway and comes around to the front of the counter

You giggle and shake your head, grabbing a to-go cup and putting a little heart over the “i” in his name like you always did

“You ask that every time”

“You act like I don’t mean it. Buck is having a party… maybe we could go together?”

He reaches over the counter grabs your watering can and gets up, going to water your plants. You’re not sure when it turned into his job but apparently it did? He noticed one or two needed water the first time he came here and from then on he’d made sure they stayed nice and watered.

“You know that’s not really my scene,” You tell him, setting the steaming cup on the counter and waiting for it to cool before putting the lid on

“I promise to make sure you have a good time… and if you’re really uncomfortable maybe you and I could just have an after party at my place?”

He finishes the can and brings it back to you to refill for him

“You promise you’ll stick to me like glue?” You say, handing him the can and he takes it from you, tilting your chin up and smirking

“Oh honey, you won’t be able to get rid of me!”

You grin sweetly, just like you always do and he boops your nose

“You’re still coming to the firehouse later today right?”

“Uh huh, around three,” you tell him and he nods

“I’ll be there”

And surprise, surprise! He is there. It wasn’t easy either. It took him months to learn how to break the alarm just enough that they’d have to send someone in to fix it. It’s not traceable, he knows that he’s not worried about that. Getting the alone time to do it, however, was almost impossible.

But it’s all worth it when he sees your pink Cadillac pull into the parking lot. A gift from your grandmother, he’d learned when he went through your photo albums last week. He couldn’t wait to meet her actually, she seemed so much like his Abuela and he was sure they’d get along.

“Hey pretty girl,” He says as he walks out toward your car. You hop out, pulling up your shorts and Eddie has to look away as your ass bounces.

Soon.

“Hi, Eddie!” You come around to the other side of the car and he holds his arms out, ready to hold the trays and you giggle, opening the door and piling them into his arms

“Thank you” You shut the door and grab your purse from the front seat before locking the doors.

“Hey, it’s what any gentleman would do” He winks and you blush, leading him back into the station. He directs you upstairs and you freeze a little when you get there, the team is there, just hanging around, he comes up behind you and nudges you a little with the tray.

“What’s wrong?” He asks lowly, turning so his body is in front of yours

“O-oh nothing. Um- it’s nothing.”

He shifts the trays, balancing them on one arm, and holds his hand out. He loved how shy you were, it was so endearing and sweet.

“Don’t worry sweetie, they’re nice”

Buck’s eyes light up as you guys come up to the table, he reaches out for the trays, helping Eddie set them down.

“Oh- oh these look heavenly” He moans as he takes the plastic wrap off. You giggle behind Eddie’s back and Buck perks up.

“When did your voice get so high-pitched?”

“Oh Hardy har har” Eddie rolls his eyes, he gently pulls you from behind him, and Buck squeals, running around the table and squeezing you tightly.

“Y/N! I haven’t seen you in ages!!”

He’s shaking you like a rag doll all the while Eddie is still holding your hand, it’s fine. It’s fine, Buck is family. It’s fine.

“Eddie!” You squeak and he breaks from his haze, he hadn’t realized he was squeezing your hand tighter

“Oh shit-“ he lets go, and Buck sets you down, straightening out your rumpled shirt.

“Come on I have to introduce you to my friends!” He says excitedly and Eddie takes your wrist, pulling you backward into his chest

“Oh! Don’t worry I’ve got that!” He laughs humorlessly as he wraps his arms around your waist “It’s kinda my job. I forced her here after all”

“You didn’t force me” You elbow him teasingly, looking up at him. He looks into your eyes, nearly crumbling at the way your head tilts. He could just-

“Are you guys about to kiss” Chimney breaks the spell, coming over and rubbing his hands together as he stares at the muffins

“He’d never kiss Y/N! She’s my cousin!” Buck scoffs, as the others come over

“She’s technically Tommy’s cousin, and yes I would kiss her” Eddie begrudgingly lets you go, putting his hands on your shoulders and pushing you forward.

“This is Y/N. She’s a partner at the cafe I get my coffee from and the muffins you guys steal from me constantly”

“Hiya” you wave a little

“Isn’t she just a doll” Buck coos around a mouthful of muffin and you blush as he pats your head.

You meet Hen and Bobby next and they’re absolutely wonderful, they’re very kind. Eddie keeps his arm around your waist, you notice him tug a little each time you stray from him, like he wants to keep you close. It gets your heart pumping, he just seems so sweet and snuggly… it’s incredibly attractive.

Bobby thanks you for the muffins and even gives you a hug, Eddie lets you go for that, mostly. He still holds your hand and you give Bobby a one-arm hug

“It was no problem! Anything for Eddie and his friends”

“Yeah well if you keep supplying us with muffins, you’re going to be our friend too” Chimney waves his muffin at you

“You know what?”

You’re sitting in Eddie’s lap, in one of the comfy accent chairs. Your legs hang over the side of the chair and your arms are wrapped around his neck. He’s got his arms tightly around your waist, nuzzling his nose into your neck and you squeak as his breath tickles you.

“You must be exhausted, you were up pretty early this morning” He mumbles, kissing the shell of your ear and you shrug.

“Cafes have to open early, it’s kind of our thing”

“You don’t have work tomorrow, right?” He rubs your thigh and you cuddle into his chest more, laying your head on his shoulder

“Right, and the day after” you confirm, and he perks up a little at that, he was hoping you’d mention it.

“So about the party… you said you’d come, right?” He squeezes your thigh a little and that gets your attention, causing you to shift a little, squeezing your thighs together.

“Y-yeah I’m gonna come” You blush and he grins widely

“Okay good, that’s so good… I uh- I was wondering..”

He gets a little shy, his cheeks pink “Would you maybe want to stay over after? Just for a little sleepover or something”

“Y-you want me to stay over?” You ask hesitantly and he pouts a little, shrugging and kind of sinking into himself to appear smaller

“I mean yeah, I- I think it could be fun! We can stay up and watch movies, have popcorn… maybe even order a late-night pizza if we’re hungry”

You think about it for a little bit, he blinks at you and pouts more and you giggle. He’s just so instant and helpless sometimes.

“Okay yeah! Let’s make it a sleepover! I think I can ask my mom to dog sit”

Eddie’s heart nearly bursts from his chest as he squeezes you tightly and kisses your cheek. You squeal and laugh as he kisses all over your face.

“Sounds like a date!”

#words by rhys #rhys writes #911 x reader #eddie diaz #911 fox #eddie diaz x reader #911 show #911 abc #kinktober 2024

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niiwa-angel · 2 months ago

Text

Jazz, handing Bumblebee and bottle of very expired milk: drink this. You have to drink this. I dare you to drink this!

Bumblebee: 👍

Optimus Prime, summoned by the power of Dad: NO NO, put it down, no!!

~~~

Hot Rod: What if I light this on fire?

Cliffjumper: I like fire!

Rachet, moving as fast as his gears will allow: Lighter, give it to me. Right now.

~~~

Hot Rod: Do you think someone can breathe if they're inside of a washing machine while it's on?

Optimus Prime: I don't know. Why?

Hot Rod: 😬

Optimus Prime: Where's Bumblebee?

Hot Rod: ummm.

Optimus Prime: Hot Rod, where is your brother?!

~~~

Rachet: What if I pour coffee into my cereal instead of milk?

Jazz, Prowl, and Optimus forcibly prying the coffee pot away from him: What if you didn't?

#transformers #incorrect transformers #dadimus prime #dad optimus prime #bumblebee #tf bumblebee #Jazz #tf jazz #prowl #tf prowl #rachet #tf rachet #hot rod #tf hotrod

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rottenpumpkin13 · 9 months ago

Note

You know how moms have photos of their kids that the kids find mortifying, their friends find hilarious and moms find endearing?

What photos does Lazard have of his idiots?

Blackmail Photos On Lazard's Phone

• Sephiroth and Angeal sweeping confetti from the floor after an office party but they're posing like American Gothic, with Sephiroth holding up the broom like the pitchfork.

• The same after party cleanup, this time it's Sephiroth and Angeal beating Genesis with their broomsticks because he wasn't helping.

• Zack holding out his burger, where Sephiroth is taking a bite.

• Sephiroth in the corner of the conference room using Genesis' balled up red coat as a pillow and his hair as an eye mask.

• The First Class trio covered in mud after a mission. Head to toe. They clearly look like they're being forced to stake the picture.

• Minutes later, a photo of Genesis and Sephiroth flinging mud at each other while Angeal yells at them.

• Angeal mid-fall as the chair he had been teetering on finally tipped back. Lazard had been warning him he would fall, but Angeal didn't listen.

• Sephiroth with a failed merchandise prototype that's a plushie of Genesis, but it doesn't have eyebrows. Sephiroth is holding it like a trophy.

• Zack changing a lightbulb on Angeal's shoulder. Sephiroth and Genesis thought the pose looked cool, so Genesis can be seen on Sephiroth's shoulders in the background, except he's falling so he's just a blur of red.

• A shame photo he took of Angeal sweeping up the dirt he tracked into the 49th floor after purchasing yet another office plant.

• A photo of Genesis taken at 4:15 AM, where he's wearing sunglasses and holding a cup of coffee. His coat is inside out.

• Sephiroth at lunch with ketchup all over his chest after the ketchup bottle nozzle broke and squirted everywhere. Zack's hand can be seen dipping a fry into Sephiroth's chest.

• An unflattering photo of Genesis mid-yawn. Angeal and Sephiroth are beside him, Angeal is holding up a piece of Sephiroth's hair so it looks like Genesis is about to eat it.

• Sephiroth having an existential crisis inside a giant cardboard box, except only his eyes are visible, reminiscent of a hippo partially underwater.

• Zack standing in front of a PowerPoint presentation where one slide is just the word "ASS" on screen. He's doing a thumbs up.

• A followup photo of Zack lowering his head in shame, "ASS" still visible on the PowerPoint behind him. Angeal and Sephiroth are arguing in the photo over wether or not Zack should be allowed to spell "ASS" on an official PowerPoint presentation.

• A photo of Genesis laying on the couch in the break room, except it's zoomed in to see what's on his screen. Genesis is in the process of looking up "Sephiroth x Genesis fanfiction enemies to lovers slow burn" online.

• Zack, but his head is through a wall after he ran into it. Lazard actually took this photo to show upper management that they need to do some remodeling.

• Someone organized the letter magnets in the break room fridge to read "Fuck bitches get money" and Sephiroth is standing in front of it, doing a thumbs up.

• Angeal in the process of pouring a beer into a bowl of cereal instead of milk. What makes this photo funny is Zack sobbing in the background as he watches this.

• Genesis but he's just a red blur of motion mid-slip, the wet floor sign in full view.

• Cloud standing outside Genesis' office holding a cardboard sign that reads "PRAY FOR GENESIS. NOTHING HAPPENED TO HIM, HE'S JUST A CUNT."

• A shame photo he made Genesis, Angeal and Sephiroth take, where they're crossing out the "This department has gone 15 days without a Jenga-related fight."

• Another shame photo of Sephiroth who's sitting on the floor with his head in his hands, his fallen bowl of splattered ramen on the floor beside him.

• Genesis mid-mental breakdown, curled into a ball on the floor in his office, where they pranked him by filling it with cardboard cutouts of Sephiroth.

• Cloud Strife (in his infantry uniform) posing next to his employee of the month photo. Yes, this was on the SOLDIER floor.

#ff7 #ffvii #final fantasy 7 #sephiroth #final fantasy vii #ffvii crisis core #genesis rhapsodos #ff7 crisis core #angeal hewley #zack fair #cloud strife #lazard deusericus

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toriisasimp · 11 months ago

Text

Sleepy Scientific Method

Egon Spengler x Reader

Prompt: During a rough night of attempted rest, you are the only one awake in the firehouse, getting a midnight snack. But, when Egon realizes you're awake and more tired than you think, he offers some help to try and soothe you back to sleep.

Warnings: None! Just an INSANE amount of fluff, and unspoken feelings!! We love to see it!

A/N: My first published Egon one shot. I have so many sitting in google docs and thought I might as well start putting them out! Egon Spengler is the loml and I love writing fluff with him. ENJOY >:)

It was nearing the ungodly hours of the morning, and you had been lying awake on your bunk for at least two hours now. You crane your neck to get a glimpse of the alarm clock next to your bed, and it reads 4:07 AM. Christ, you think- running a hand over your face. You sit up slowly, eyes adjusting to the darkness and seeing four lumps right where you left them, along with the sound of a distant ticking clock, the AC pumping, and Venkman’s snoring. You’d adjusted to it and naturally gained the ability to tune it out when you sleep, so you knew it wasn’t that keeping you up.

Perhaps it was the four cups of coffee and 53 page research paper you typed up for Egon to read over on the cardiovascular effects of paranormal experiences on humans.

Snapping out of your train of thought, you finally give up and toss the covers aside, snatching your robe and tossing it over your shoulders before trudging out of the bedroom and into the large lounge area, most of the lights shut off. You flick one on, a small kitchen light sitting above the dining table in the middle of the right corner.

Squinting and yawning, you stand still for a moment and let your eyes adjust to the sudden change of light before shuffling over to the fridge, opening it up and peeking inside. An aching appetite, perhaps that was it. You grabbed the gallon of milk that you prayed wasn’t expired, checked it by taking a whiff and making the assumption that it was fine.

You then opened the top cabinet, reaching up and just barely grazing the cereal boxes on the top, before knocking one over and catching it right on time. Cinnamon Toast Crunch, your favorite. You and Egon shared a love for it, while Venkman liked Fruit Loops, Ray liked Lucky Charms and Winston was a Cheerios kind of guy.

You kept stock of all of them.

You then grabbed a bowl and spoon, and opened the box as quietly as possible and tried to inconspicuously pour it into the bowl, only making a slight clinking sound as the cereal hit the inside of the bowl. You put it back, and poured some milk, just as you heard your name being softly called from the bedroom.

Egon stood in the doorway, holding his robe around his waist with one hand as the other slid on his glasses.

Your eyebrows raised, immediately feeling guilty for waking one of your buddies up with your midnight cravings.

“Sorry, I’ll uh- I’ll be done in a second.”

“That’s alright.” He successfully gets his glasses on and finishes tying his robe, as he approaches you at the counter. “An early breakfast?”

“Can’t sleep.” You say while pouring some milk into the bowl.

“Have you considered melatonin?” He inquired, tilting his head.

“Doesn’t work on me.”

“Hmph.” He hums, turning to lean his back against the counter and fold his arms, eyes scanning over the dark horizon of the rest of the floor of the fire house.

You then stir the cereal a bit, then take a bite and chew as you pick up the bowl and resume the same position as him.

“Sorry if I woke you up.”

“You didn’t.” He shook his head slightly. “I already had something on my mind and was basically awake.”

You tilt your head, take another bite of the cereal and chew while you speak. “What’s on your mind?”

He shakes his head and looks down at the floor.

“Alright.. I won’t pry. For now.”

He smirks and looks back up straight for a moment, before his eyes move over to your tired figure.

“You look tired.” He notes the prominent bags under your eyes, the lack of color in your skin tone, and the downturned position your face automatically takes, rather than the more alert, expressive one it usually does.

You shrug and nod. “I am. But I have nothing on you- didn’t you say once, gosh, that you slept for like-“

“Fourteen minutes a day? Yeah, I quit that a couple months back. Ray said it was making me a bit hay-wire.”

“Egon Spengler? Hay-wire? Pshhhhh.” You shake your head and giggle softly, and you look down and see the empty bowl of cereal. You must’ve finished it during the conversation.

“Very funny.” He says plainly, and you can’t quite tell with the sleep in his voice if it’s genuine or sarcasm.

You snort at his response, turning and rinsing the bowl out in the sink before setting it down into it, and sighing softly as you run your hands over your face.

Egon internally goes over the list of strategies to create sleepiness.

“My Mother always used to tell me when I couldn’t sleep to just lay there with my eyes closed. Turns out she raised an insomniac, because it never worked. I always ended up sleeping throughout the day.”

“Have you considered physical touch?” He asks out of the blue.

You turn, the next words you were going to say getting caught in your throat. You perk a brow.

“What?” You ask, genuinely confused.

“Physical touch. I’ve looked into it myself, and some sources say receiving physical touch can lead the mind into a relaxed state, and could also lead to sleepiness.”

You let out a puff of air, wondering where he’s going with this.

“Ray says I give good hugs.” He states, almost like a question- trying to prove himself.

With that, you look over at him, giving a small wiggle of your eyebrow as a silent ask of approval, and he gives a subtle nod, opening his arms just enough for you to step in front of him and up to him so you’re pressed against him, your head resting perfectly against his chest. Your arms naturally fold against his chest as well, not exactly certain on putting them anywhere else.

There’s a moment where he’s not touching you anywhere else, other than where you are touching him- until you feel his arms gently wrap around your waist, his hands folding at the base of your spine. He lets out an audible breath.

You already feel your eyes start to flutter.

“Do I have to-“

“We can just stand here, if that works for you. I don’t mind silence.” He speaks softer this time, more tender- and it makes your shoulders relax.. you didn’t even notice how tense they were.

“Focus on your breathing,” He begins to quietly guide you. “Lower the tongue from the roof of your mouth. Let your eyes shut and your body relax, I’ve got you.”

I’ve got you.

Your face turns slightly further into his chest, and you inhale, taking in his scent.. it’s hard to place, but it makes you smile.

“This is quite the scientific solution, Doctor Spengler.” You say softly with a giggle, and you can feel his chest rumble beneath you as he laughs as well.

Without another word spoken, he brings his hand up to the back of your head, resting over the bun your hair was tied up in.

“May I?”

You nod, and he gently tugs on the scrunchie, your hair falling out and resting naturally now.

The scrunchie disappears out of his grip, and it’s replaced with the alluring sensation of his fingers running through your hair, over your scalp.. making you shiver. Your eyes are completely shut, your breaths slowing.

You’re not sure how long he’s been playing with your hair and holding you upright, but you eventually mumble.

“Egon, I might fall asleep standing up..”

And you hear his gentle response,

“I won’t let that happen.”

Sleep tugs at your eyes, your mind, and your entire body begins to give up it’s weight.

As you brink at fully being unconscious, you feel something else peck at the top of your head for a brief moment, before it slumps to the side, and you lose contact.

But not soon before you feel your heavy legs get whisked up from under you, making you feel completely weightless.

There’s some soft footsteps, the pause and reach as it suddenly gets more dark, and then more footsteps before you feel yourself getting eased back into your cozy bed. There’s another pause before your blankets are pulled up to rest under your chin, and another one before you feel the same rough, but gentle fingertips brush some of your hair back, and another peck at the skin of your forehead.

Some unintelligible words mumbled, or maybe they’re just sounds..

Before sleep finally pulls you under.

And all you dream about is the undeniable comfort and peace Egon Spengler brings you.

#egon spengler #ghostbusters #ghostbusters afterlife #ghostbusters frozen empire #peter venkman #ray stantz #winston zeddemore #egon my beloved #fanfic #one shot #fluff

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superblysubpar · 1 year ago

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All Of This Snow Is Falling, I Can Make You Fall Too:

modern!eddie munson x fem!reader

2.5k words

the song: santa doesn't know you like I do by Sabrina Carpenter

summary: A trashy reality show, a big reveal, and a disagreement on best friends to lovers being a total cliché.

warnings: modern, teacher, best friend, roommate Eddie - except the teacher thing is really barely mentioned and the only reason it's modern is because of the show | Both him and reader are like late 20s, early 30s but no detailed description of this - it's more so to let you know they've known each other for a LONG time and are still single | no hate to trashy reality shows like The Bachelor, I'm a sucker for em | alcohol mentions | some clothed grinding, ass grabbing making out

the prompts: [french] - a deep, passionate kiss with tongue [STRADDLE] - one muse sits down in the others lap

day 3 of 12 days of superbly subpar writing // requested by @lavendermunson - thank you so much, I hope you love the direction I took it in, I had a lot of fun writing this one 💛

“It’s back on! I can hear it! Eddie pause it! Quick!”

Your muffled cry from inside a sweatshirt you couldn’t quite find the hole to pop your head through sounded truly panicked as you stumbled out of your bedroom. He laughed, sliding out of the kitchen and did as you asked, swallowing and looking away at the bare skin of your stomach as your shirt pulled higher, trapped in the sweatshirt.

It was a Friday night, the apartment you two shared dark aside from the blue of the television, the warm glow from the lamp shedding light onto the scattered papers littered with red pen marks, and the occasional burst of white light as the fridge was cracked for another beer or a refill on cereal milk.

He stood, waiting for you to grab the bowl from his hands, sucking in a breath and ignoring the way his heartbeat picked up speed when you smiled, hair a mess and skin flushed when you finally wrangled the sweatshirt down. He didn’t know what was worse, remembering the day you made the old, hand-bleached sweatshirt, or how your body underneath it looked the day you did.

It had been the hottest day of the summer, he had been laying in the dark, with a fan blowing on him when the lights flipped on without warning. Wincing and squinting as you stood above him, a lime green bikini top, cut off shorts - that kind the pockets stuck out past the frayed denim, revealing far too much. A grape popsicle in one hand and a bag from the dollar store in the other asking him if he wanted to have some fun. Somehow the girl he’d grown up with, somehow his best friend, and somehow a woman with a figure and confidence and-

He’d struck out on every single date he’d had since, either calling it off himself or girls telling him he should “tell her” whatever the fuck that means.

Eddie stood in front of you, holding out the bowl of fruit loops, until you took it with both hands, bouncing up and down on your now wool-sock covered toes. He kept his gaze on the bowl as he poured, waiting for you to say ‘when’ and you took the opportunity to admire the way his eyelashes cast a shadow on his skin and the way this new shorter haircut made his curls go every which way and wondering if it’d be weird for you to card your fingers through it.

You know, as friends do.

His brown eyes met your gaze, his eyebrows shooting up in a question and you startled out of imagining things you shouldn’t have been about your best friend. “Oh! When! Sorry!”

Nestling yourself between the couch and coffee table, you glanced at the short stories he was grading while he put the milk away and grabbed a beer, your voice calling out around a too big of bite, “One for me please!”

He was already rounding the corner with one in hand and you beamed, putting on a funny voice, “Why thank you good sir.”

Eddie flicked your shoulder as he sat, “You’ve had too much sugar tonight.”

Taking another bite, you drummed your hands on the coffee table, waiting until you had swallowed to look at him, remote poised to hit play. “So, final predictions, Munson?”

He sighed, taking a swig of the amber liquid, letting it coat his tongue as he squinted at the TV. “For the record, again, I do not like this show and I have not been watching it and-”

Your hand waved him off, interrupting, “Yeah, yeah, yeah, your man card is still intact. Just play the game.”

He hunched over the coffee table, elbows on his knees after he ran a hand through his hair. You quickly looked at the TV before your eyes could linger on the muscle flexing in his arm, before your mind could wander to the tattoos that disappeared under the white cotton shirt. Before you could start to wonder about the matching tattoos in script on his ribcage, tracing it with his tong-

“Ex. Totally the ex.” He declared, starting to grade again.

“No way, they did that like three seasons ago. I think it’s the girl he sent home that first night. The one he talked to, you know? He walked her out? Which is really weird for a first rose ceremony.”

“Uh-huh.” His eyes scanned the story about aliens and cowboys in front of him, his middle schoolers just as unpredictable and weird as you. He loved them.

You tapped the back of the paper, nodding, “This one should get an A,” you spoke around a mouthful, “Real plot twist ending.”

He tapped your nose with the cap of his red pen, “Who has the teaching degree?”

His lips twitched in a fight of a smile at your eye roll and your snarky, “Who’s home on a Friday night grading twelve year old’s writing while watching ‘The Bachelor’?”

“Not watching,” he took another sip of beer.

“Uh-huh.”

He’d lost count of how many years he’d “not” been watching The Bachelor with you, but long enough for The Bachelorette, and then Paradise to be added.

It became a tradition to record them and wait till your schedules allowed you both to sit down and watch it. This season, they’d been hinting about this episode from the beginning, some big reveal, a person interrupting a date, and you’d been placing bets for a month.

You nodded, satisfied, hitting play, “I’m right.”

The dramatic music resumed, the heels clicked on the cobblestone as a deep sapphire blue dress was panned up and up-

Eddie’s eyebrows bunched, his stomach did a little twist because of fucking course. He watched as your spoon, overflowing with fruit loops, stopped before your lips. Your mouth parted in a gasp, and you swore.

“Vanessa?” Hunky bachelor man sputtered on screen. The blonde he’d just been about to makeout with completely forgotten as he stood, smiling through his shock, “What are you doing here?”

“Oh my god,” your spoon clattered into the bowl, pink milk splashing over the side a little as your hands went to your temples, elbows landing hard on the coffee table.

Vanessa looked at the blonde date, then at him, whispering, “Hey, I know…sorry I’m so nervous.” She laughed a little, reaching for his hand he was already offering out reassuringly, “Can I talk to you?”

Hunky bachelor man didn’t hesitate for a second, nodding, “Of course. Yeah, hold on.”

He excused himself from the other girl, the two walking away and talking incoherently as the camera zoomed in on sad blonde. Eddie was ninety percent certain her name was Rachel and she taught yoga. Or maybe it was Jessica and she was in real estate.

Either way, sad blonde was now in her confessional. Her blue eyes dead, fake, runny mascara lines running down her cheeks as she stared at something beyond the camera, and a commercial started. Eddie booed.

Your head whipped around, glaring at him, “Why the hell are you booing?!”

Eddie shook his head, gesturing at the TV and took another swig of his beer, angry. “That’s bullshit.”

You were on your knees, sitting up, eyes wide, tone incredulous, “What do you mean that’s bullshit?!”

“The best friend? C’mon.” He rolled his eyes, shaking his head at the screen again.

“I don’t understand why you think that’s bullshit?” Your cheeks hot, hand in your hair as your brain circled through the footage of them from the beginning of the season. The interview with her smiling sadly, wishing him luck and hoping the best for him. Hoping he found what he was looking for.

You started to message your other bestie:

You: IT WAS THE BEST FRIEND?! Robin: babe, seriously? You didn’t see that coming? YOU?

Your eyes darted over to Eddie, quickly locking your phone again as his adam’s apple bobbed with another gulp.

Was it that obvious?

Eddie scratched at the label on his bottle, knee bouncing as he shrugged. “I think there’s gonna be some big confession about how she’s always loved him, maybe he says it back, but like, if she always loved him, why weren’t they together before the show? Why is she saying it now?”

“Maybe she didn’t know how she felt fully,” you countered, hand thrown to the TV.

He shook his head again and stood, “If she didn’t know how she felt, why is she there? Why is she a part of the show? I bet they offered her a shit load of money.”

Eddie felt hot, angry at a fake reality show, making people believe best friends fall in love. Making innocent people hope that one day it could happen to them. It was bullshit. It wasn’t real.

You were on your feet, following him towards the kitchen. “No, no way. That was all her. Couldn’t you see it in her face? She loves him. She just needed to tell him before it was too late.”

Eddie tossed his empty bottle, spinning to find you right on his heel. “Okay, maybe she is. Maybe it’s real and not for TV, but then that’s super shitty of her.”

You laughed, hands on your hips, “What?! How is telling someone you love them, shitty, Eddie?”

He threw his hands in the air, “Because! She had to have known for a long time. Had to have known how she felt. The only reason she’s telling him now is because she’s jealous. Or she’s afraid she’ll lose him, so she’s sabotaging his love life which is selfish.”

Your head shook, but Eddie’s heart accelerated, words tumbling out of him before he could stop them. “I bet that guy has been in love with her since they were like fifteen and every single relationship he’s had has ended because of her. Because,” he licked his lips and spoke faster, hands gesturing wildly, “If it wasn’t him comparing every single girl to her, it was them, dumping him, because of his best friend hanging around making them doubt their relationship.”

His words felt like a bucket of cold water was dumped on you, toes going numb as he finished, voice softer, strained, “And that’s really fucking shitty. If she knew how she felt and never told him.”

“Maybe she was scared to ruin their friendship! Did you ever think about that? And why couldn’t he tell her?” Your cheeks hot, fingers curled in fists at your side as you glared at your best friend. Was he insinuating that you were the reason he was single? Your throat felt dry, head and heart pounding as you blurt out, “What if she lost her best friend in the whole entire world because she was selfish and had to know how his lips felt, huh? What if it didn’t work out?”

Your bodies were magnets, chests almost touching as your breath came sharper, his brown eyes darting over your face - the few inches between you pulsing, like if someone snapped their fingers a fire could start.

Voice cracking, as you stared at the curve of his lips, “What if the guy who held her hand on a swing set when they were ten and promised to always be there, suddenly wasn’t there?”

Eddie swallowed, nerves of that ten and fifteen year old alive like he never outgrew them because suddenly he wasn’t talking about the show anymore and neither were you.

Your breath caught in your chest as he reached his hand towards you, heart stumbling over itself it was going so fast as his fingers curled around your jaw.

His voice was raspy, full of years, but soft, eyes even more so as he leaned in, forehead touching yours.

“Sweetheart, he’s always gonna be there.”

Then he was kissing you.

His lips parted over yours, a ghost of a touch, before he let a shaky exhale warm them, waiting.

It was like tasting your favorite food for the first time, the way you tilted to catch his lips again, needing more, the way the movement encouraged him to keep going. The scrape of his short scruff against your skin made your toes curl, spice and mint of his cologne drawing you closer. He parted your mouth with his, a little fuller of a kiss, stealing your breath as he caught your bottom lip with his teeth. Cheap beer and sweet cereal on shared breaths, each of your desperate inhales pushing your chests together, back arching as his hands found your hips and yours climbed higher up his chest.

The two of you started to stumble backwards, your lips moving a little more desperately against each other until the back of his legs were hitting the couch. Your body followed his, knees landing on either side of his hips as he sat and you spoke into his lips, both panting. “Is this okay?”

Eddie nodded, hands roaming lower, sliding over the curve of your ass as he tapped his nose against yours, brown eyes hidden under heavy lids and blown out pupils. His bottom lip hitting your top with his own question, “This?”

You pressed yourself lower, feeling him hard against you and groaned as he squeezed. “So okay, Eddie.”

He cursed quietly, encouraged your hips, holding them down and thrusting up to meet each roll as he leaned in for more.

Eddie’s lips brushed over yours in a gentle, deep, and confident way. A man who knows how to kiss, and does so with intent. His hand roamed from your hip, waist, settling against your ribs and scratching as his tongue licked slowly over your bottom lip, releasing a shiver to run through your body.

Your hands explored up the smooth planes of his chest, over broad shoulders, until they were against the back of his head, fingers running through the short, dark curls there. His mouth savored yours as his hands pressed to the back of your spine, drawing you closer, your chests heaving together, kissing becoming urgent, like you were making up for the years of lost time.

Gripping each other tightly, each sharp inhale and exhale against one another addicting, demanding you be closer. You tugged on his hair to hear him stutter out your name, a whisper against kiss bitten lips, he rolled his tongue over yours before sucking on your bottom lip to draw a noise from deep within your chest out.

Teasing and curious touches, using what you’ve grown to know about each other from years of bad (and some good) dating stories, and trying to learn even more yourselves.

“I’ve been in love with you since we were fifteen,” her voice echoed out of the TV speaker and your mouth titled in a smile, teeth scraping against his bottom lip.

Eddie huffed, the two of you breaking apart, breathless as you laughed together.

His palms soothed up and down your spine, his nose skimming the bridge of yours as you both took a second to breathe, to realize what had been in front of you the entire time.

“It was always you,” hunky bachelor man choked out.

Eddie rolled his eyes as you threw your head back in a louder laugh, his smile pressed along the hinge of your jaw, shaking his head as he squeezed your waist.

Yeah, it was always you.

#twelve days of superbly subpar writing #eddie munson #modern!eddie munson #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson drabble #eddie munson fic #Spotify

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ssho0ta · 29 days ago

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Promise | Terry Richmond part 1

Terry Richmond x Black!Fem! Reader

word count: 692 ( she a lil short)

Summary: After the battle in Shelby Springs, Terry finally makes his way back home to you.

The faint sounds of birds outside chirping and your dog Coco lying on the bed next to you, soft snores slowly brought you out of your slumber. You slowly opened your eyes, the brown orbs adjusting, as you turned your body around to look for your phone. 8:45 is what it said once you reached and you slowly sighed realizing that Terry said he would be back now.

It was day 4 of him not being home after he left to venture to a small town to bail his cousin out. At first, you suggested you go with him but he said he preferred for you to stay to watch after Coco. And he promised he would come back home in 2 days. It's been 4 and even though the two of you shared subtle communication you were worried as he kept his status very vague.

Terry was never the type to lie to you, he was always honest, and whenever he promised you something he always made sure you got it. But you were becoming impatient and scared wondering if you should travel to Shelby Springs to find him. But one thing Terry always told you was to be patient with him and you trusted him so you decided to wait.

You got out of bed making Coco lift her head from feeling the bed shift. You walk towards your en-suite bathroom to get started with your day. You cut the light on in the bathroom approaching the sink, and grabbing your toothbrush and toothpaste.

Once you finished brushing your teeth and doing your skin care, you pushed back the shower curtain slightly twisting the mob to turn the shower on. The bathroom started to steam and quickly stripped away your clothing and stepped in.

You walked down the steps coco trailing behind you, making your way to the kitchen for breakfast. Dreaming of the cup of coffee and cereal that was about to bless your taste buds.

You made your way down the hallway floorboards creaking underneath the weight of your footsteps. You made your way to open the back door and let Coco outside to use the bathroom.

You walked more towards the open-concept kitchen and living room that was connected coming into sight. You immediately made your way towards the kitchen area. Opening the top cabinet and grabbing your favorite mug that you brought while forcing Terry to take you on a long target run. You started the coffee pot, steam coming from beneath you and it brewed into your cup.

You went to open the door back open for Coco and you poured more food and water inside of her bowl. You went back to the coffee pot, grabbed your cup, and opened the fridge to grab your favorite French vanilla creamer.

Leaning against the counter with the cup in your hands, you looked outside the kitchen window. Terry was still heavy on your mind, his whereabouts still in your head you were concerned about why it took so long to bail out his cousin. Millions of different possible scenarios flooded

Your head, but then pulled out of your train of thought by the sound of a truck pulling into your yard.

The car was unfamiliar to you and your hand slowly started to creep to the kitchen drawer where Terry kept a gun for safety. Until the door of the truck opened revealing Terry stepping out, he looked like he had been through hell and back. He was sweaty and looked exhausted. This immediately made you put your mug down and walk outside running towards him.

When he saw you, his world immediately lit up, and he opened his arms for you to jump in them. And you did, wrapping your legs around his waist and your arms around his neck, putting your face there. He also held your hands, caressing your back.

you peppered his face in kisses and he lightly smiled at the feeling

A/N: Idk if I should do a part two or not let me know😭

#aaron pierre #terry richmond #aaron pierre x black reader #terry richmond x black reader #rebel ridge #ssho0tawrites

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maple-seed · 1 year ago

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Thrown - Chapter 44: Birthright

Summary: Loki wrestles with an old insecurity

Word Count: 1,724

Thrown Masterlist Loki Masterlist

Loki's fingers trailed over your bare thigh then paused to gently squeeze the soft flesh. You wore a lazy smile as Loki lay stretched next to you, until you suddenly winced and gasped. You cried out in pain and flinched away. Startled, Loki sat up quickly, trying to find the source of your distress. He looked down at his hand. It was blue. Your skin where he touched you was burned. "Darling, I-" he looked to your face. It was twisted in fear. You were afraid of him.

Loki woke in his bed. His bed. He was alone. It had been one of the rare nights he didn't stay with you, and for once he was grateful. He shut his eyes and tried to push the dream away. It was hard to forget the fear in your eyes. He glanced out the window. It was early morning. He might as well get up.

While his tea steeped Loki wallowed in his shame. He had never told you what he was. He should have made it known. It felt deceitful. Norns, he had taken you to bed without telling you what he was. You certainly deserved better than that.

Thor came down the stairs and found Loki still at the table, now with a cold cup of tea. They passed their normal morning greetings and Loki watched his brother rifle through their cabinets for breakfast.

"Thor, I need to ask you something." "Yes?" Thor did not look up from the cereal he was pouring. "How did you react, when you found out about my true heritage?" Thor chuckled. "To tell you the truth, I was much more distraught over your recent death." Loki sighed. "Yes, certainly, but aside from that?" Thor looked over at Loki. "Why do you ask?"

Loki looked at Thor and there was only silence. Thor's shoulders slumped. "Oh, Loki." He sighed. "I know." Thor's brow twisted in confusion. "How is it even possible, after all this time?" Loki shrugged. "It simply never came up." Thor shot him a skeptical look. "Perhaps I guided our conversations away from certain topics." Loki muttered and fiddled with his idle tea.

Thor stood pensive for a moment. "Don't worry yourself over it." "I lied to her." Thor scoffed. "You didn't. And besides, are you not the God of Lies? I imagine she is willing to forgive some dishonesty." Loki glowered at the table. "I should have told her what I am." "She knows what you are. It's your lineage she's made some assumptions about." Thor stated firmly as he sat down across from Loki. "To answer your question, it didn't change the way I thought of you. It changed the way I thought of the Jötnar." He took a bite of his breakfast. "Though it did shed some light on a few of your actions." Loki couldn't bring himself to look at his brother. The wasted tea held his attention instead. "I think, perhaps, you should see her this morning. I can do without you for a few hours." Loki's heart wrenched at the thought of facing you with this. However, he recognized he couldn't avoid it. You should have known already. "I think that's wise."

As Loki trudged down the road to your home he tried to identify exactly how he was feeling. He knew, deep down beneath everything else, that you would love him regardless. Somehow that made it worse. You wouldn't have the context to understand what he had kept from you. He wouldn't be able to explain how despicable it was, and you would dismiss it like was nothing.

Despite knowing logically that you would still have him, there was still a part of him that feared you wouldn't. He remembered your terror from his dream. A small, ugly voice in his mind said you would be right to fear him. He deserved to lose you. He never deserved to have you in the first place.

He stood on your porch and hesitated for a moment at the door. He took a breath then stepped inside. You startled on the couch, but your surprise quickly gave way to a smile.

"Loki?" You set your coffee down and stood. "What are you doing here? I wasn't expecting to see you until dinner." He kept his distance and avoided your touch. "I needed to speak with you." Worry crossed your face. "Okay." He gestured to the couch and you took your seat. After a moment of deliberation he sat beside you. "I haven't told you everything about myself." "Well, that's a relief. I haven't told you everything about myself either." You attempted a weak smile. Loki shook his head. "This is something important." His voice stalled out. He suddenly wasn't sure where to begin. "I think you should just tell me." You said quietly.

He nodded and pushed forward. "Do you recall, I told you of the time I fell from Asgard, into the abyss?" You nodded. He looked down. "My fall, I didn't- it was... intentional." Your face fell and your hands reached out, grasping him, as if you could catch him now. You dear creature. "It's alright, it's alright." He took your hands as you clung to him. You started to say something but he shook his head. "The reason is what I need to tell you." He found himself looking down at your hands, turning them over in his. "There were many reasons, I suppose. But I had traveled down a sort of spiral into madness. This spiral was triggered, largely, by a revelation about my heritage." He met your eyes. "I am not Asgardian." Your brows were knitted as you processed this. "So... Thor?" "We are not brothers by blood. Odin found me, abandoned as an infant and raised me as his son. I was born on Jötunheim." He swallowed. "I am Jötunn." "Oh." You ruminated on this for a moment. "Okay."

He looked down again. "I should have told you sooner." "Hey, it's fine." You bent in an attempt to meet his line of sight. "It's really okay. I came to terms with having feelings for an alien a long time ago. It's really not much of an adjustment to switch from one alien to another." He looked away. "You don't understand. The Jötnar, they are savage. Enemies of Asgard. The monster in every children's story." You grabbed his face and forced him to look your way. "You are not a monster." "I tried to kill them." He was surprised by the weakness in his voice. "I meant to destroy the entire race. I would have, if Thor hadn't stopped me. Is that not something a monster would do?" He expected to receive your disgust. Possibly your fear or your anger. Instead your face bent in sympathy. "Destroy the enemy of Asgard? It sounds like something an Asgardian would do."

Loki closed his eyes. You settled back against the couch, pulling him with you. "Obviously the stories are wrong, Loki. You bought into the propaganda. I'd expect more from a god of lies." He allowed you to bring his head to rest against yours, against the back of the couch. "Your clemency is too easily granted. This should have ended with you sending me away." "Loki, the first time I saw your face was on television, attempting to subjugate my planet." "All the more reason." "Hm." He rested with you in silence, your fingers stroking his hair.

You eventually ventured a question. "I didn't think Jötuns looked like Asgardians." Loki winced. "They don't. What you see is shape-shifted. This isn't the form I was born to. There was another beat of silence. "Can I see?" This was something he had hoped to avoid, but he certainly couldn't deny you. "You may not look at me the same way." "Don't be ridiculous." He sighed and sat up, facing you. "I did warn you." You straightened and watched him with anticipation.

He closed his eyes and felt his form shift. He didn't hear you respond, and eventually found the courage to look at you, with eyes he knew were now blood red.

You were looking at him with wonder, and reached out to trace a raised line on his cheek. "It's a lovely shade." "It's hideous." He muttered. You pursed your lips. "Loki, I think you might be racist." "If it weren't for my magic," he spoke sadly, the memory of his dream resurfacing, "my touch would burn you with cold." You took his hand and brought it to your lips, placing a kiss to his fingertips with a slight smile. "Then I'm very grateful for your magic." He found the sight of his blue skin against yours unsettling, and shifted back to his usual shape. "How can you be so unfazed by all of this?" "Oh, I'm fazed, for sure. We definitely have a lot to talk about. But like I said, I had already come to terms with the alien thing. I assumed there would be a few surprises."

That sounded reasonable enough, even if part of him still struggled to believe it. He leaned back, and this time you followed him until the both of you were reclined on the couch. He threw an arm around you and sighed. "It is unreasonable to be this tired so early in the day." He looked down at you. "Do you have work to do?" "It can wait. What about you?" "It can wait." He echoed.

You settled in against him. "So, you're only a prince by adoption?" A smirk curled his lip, despite himself. "Actually, I'm the rightful king of Jötunheim." "Oh, that's great news." He heard the smile creep into your voice. "I thought I would have to kill Thor to become a queen." That drew a chuckle from him, and he could sense you were pleased with yourself for it.

He looked up at your ceiling and his mind swam. You had given him a lot to think about. His concentration was pulled away by your fingers toying with a strand of his hair. It drew his focus to you instead. You were still his. He felt a deep gratitude for your reassuring weight against him. There were things that needed to be addressed, without question. Deep-seated beliefs. Ideas of who he was.

They could wait.

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#loki #loki x reader #loki fanfiction #mcu loki #loki marvel #loki mcu #reader insert #loki thrown

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cels-not-so-secret-love-affair · 2 months ago

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sunday afternoon (the potter family)

a/n: playing about with some muggle au potter family and friends. i’ve been trying to get ahold of the way i like to write harry - i could probably do with rereading the books to aid me in that endeavour, but that’s not exactly a commitment i have time for. anyways! just a dash of happy today. key word for this one was comfortable.

‘I’m home!’, Harry calls, pulling off his windbreaker and shutting the door behind him. It’s colder now it’s autumn, and he’s glad of the wave of warmth that hits him on the way in.

‘Alright, Haz?’ comes a voice from inside the kitchen. Harry grins when he recognises it - Sirius is over. He kicks off his trainers haphazardly and heads down the hall to the open door where light is pouring out into the rest of the house.

‘Hi, sweetheart,’ smiles Lily as he enters. She’s sat at the kitchen table with her laptop and a mug of coffee, long dark red hair swept back into a tidy ponytail. Her eyes flick to the bottoms of his jeans as he passes her and she sighs wearily. ‘Really, Harry? Why have you got mud all over you this time then?’

‘Footie,’ he says simply, rifling through the cupboard in search of cereal.

‘That’s my boy,’ James laughs and pats him on the shoulder as he sidles past him. Harry glows proudly like he always does whenever he gets compared to his dad and goes to fetch a bowl.

‘Good kick-about?’ Sirius inquires from his chair by the fire.

‘Yeah, it was nice. Ron totally stacked it though, his mum’s going to murder him. Did Remus not come?’

‘Nah, Moons is resting at the minute. He sends his love though.’

‘I know.’ Harry sets his cereal down and pulls up a chair at the table. He’s halfway through practically inhaling it in that ever-so-teenage-boy manner when he frowns, drops his spoon and looks back up.

‘By the way, Mum, I forgot. Its parent’s evening on Thursday. I’m supposed to book the meetings with my teachers for you and Dad?’

‘Yes, actually, I saw the email. Jamie, could you come sit down for just a few seconds?’ James, perpetually enthused, bounds over to kiss his wife on the head and sits down to her left.

‘I absolutely can, my love. Who’ve we got to see, Harry?’

‘I mean, it’s up to you. Miss was really keen on seeing you last lesson in Art but she was sort of like that with everyone, so I reckon she’s just lonely,’ he shrugs, shovelling another heap of cereal into his mouth. Lily shoots him a look, but the corners of her mouth tip up in an amused sort of way and her eyes don’t really carry much heat.

‘Right, okay, we may as well be kind and book in for Art then,’ she decides, rather businesslike. ‘And then I’ll want to see all your core subject teachers, and probably your Media teacher too.’

‘Mum, there is literally no way I’m letting you see my Chemistry teacher after what happened last time.’

‘Oh, don’t be silly, he was just being a coward. If he doesn’t want to face the consequences of his own actions he should stop bullying children and start teaching them instead.’

‘Who was this one again, Lils?’ Sirius asks lazily, eyes still trained on his newspaper.

‘Chemistry? We’ve told you about him, he’s that awful, pathetic man who keeps giving poor Neville grief.’

‘Ah, I know the bloke. Snape, isn’t it? Greasy old git.’ Harry stifles a laugh.

‘Really though, it’ll only make him more evil if you yell at him again, he’ll get all embarrassed and tetchy. Can’t you just see History then instead?’

‘It is physically impossible to sit through a single conversation with that man without falling asleep,’ James declares, apparently having flashbacks to the last time he sat through one of Binns’ lectures and looking remarkably as if he’d like to stab his own eyes out with a fork. ‘Besides, I want to talk to this Snape man as well. Its two to one, son - you’re overruled.’ He imitates bringing down a gavel.

‘Not my bloody fault I’m an only child’, complains Harry, fiddling with a stray thread at the end of his sleeve.

‘That’s that sorted then.’ says Lily. ‘We’ll do Art, Media, English, Maths and the sciences - and yes, that’s including Chemistry.’

‘Okay, whatever. I’m going to go up now if that’s okay.’

‘Alright. I’ll call you for tea in about half an hour or so, yeah?’

‘Thanks. Are you staying to eat with us, Pads?’ Harry asks Sirius, taking his empty bowl and spoon across to the sink.

‘No, I’m having dinner with Remus, its only a quick visit today really. But another time, eh? Once Moony’s out of bed we’ll come together and stay a bit longer.’

‘That’d be cool.’

‘Oh, and Haz?’ Sirius calls as Harry heads towards the doorway.

‘Yeah?’

‘Fifteen across, six letters, “a habitually discontented person”.’

‘I dunno, grouch?’

‘You’re a genius, mate. Cheers.’

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imnotjaesblog · 1 year ago

Text

Hogwarts Dreams at Night

Part 1: An Owl Appears

Warnings: None

MINORS DO NOT READ!!

Words: 4k

At eleven years old you sat by the bay window in your living room. You tapped boredly on the glass watching as two raindrops raced to the bottom. Your head resting on your palm. You sighed the right raindrop splashing onto the bottom of the window. It was another boring Sunday.

Your parents were out working. Your parents owned a flower shop in London. Your mother's dream was to have her own shop to grow and sell flowers. When an order came in for a bouquet of flowers for a wedding or Valentine's Day she always cheered. Your father followed her to London, his wish was to be with her, to always make her happy.

He did just that when they had you.

Now at eleven, you sat by the bay window waiting for them to come home. It was too wet and cold to play outside. All of your friends were home probably finishing their homework. You had completed your school work the day it was given and handed it in the same day.

You loved reading but you'd already read every book in your collection including your mother's, twice. So there was nothing left for you to do but sit and wait for them to return.

at three o'clock your parents were still out working. The nanny they left you with was asleep on the couch placed in front of the TV. The only thing that separated the two was a brown coffee table your father made.

At four o'clock you got hungry. You went into the kitchen and poured yourself a bowl of cereal, you hadn't learned how to use the stove yet but you were sure you could figure it out.

At five o'clock you laid on your bed reading again. An encyclopedia all about frogs. You had just learned about amphibians and reptiles in school. Just as you reached your favorite part, there was a tap on your window. You perked your head eyes zooming in the glass. A branch large enough to fit a bird's nest blew back and forth in the strong wind. You ignored it until you heard another tap. This time when you looked at the glass there was an owl. A white owl perched on the long branch a white envelope in its hand.

Curious you lifted from your bed leaving the book behind. You slowly walked to the window unable to wipe the smile from your lips. You'd never seen an owl so close before, let alone during this time of day. Maybe the owl was sick or perhaps blind? You thought seeing the sun barely peak over the dark clouds.

The owl shuffled side to side before it flew to the window tapping on it with its beak. You smiled eyes wide as you flicked the lock opening the window wide. The rain poured into your room landing on your white carpet. Soaking the fabric of your socks. The owl flew inside flying around your room. Creating chaos as it knocked down books and flew past your candle darkening the room. You held onto your head ducking to avoid its claws.

Once the envelope fell from its mouth and onto your bed it flew out the window. You quickly ran to shut it stopping the rain from coming inside and strong cold winds from hitting your face.

You let out a huff as you locked your window seeing the owl was gone. You turned back to your bed. The envelope sitting on the mattress. You walked over climbing onto the sheets and picking up the letter. You flipped it over seeing a red stamp holding the paper closed.

The front was addressed to you.

You had never received mail before. Well once before when your best friend Jeno invited you to his eleventh birthday party last Spring. But you had never received mail and didn't know what was inside. Nor were ever able to open up the envelopes you received anyway. When you receive your grades or tests your parents always open them.

You excitedly open the envelope pulling the folded cream colored paper out.

Dear Y/n

We are pleased to inform you that you have a place at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.

Term begins on September 1st. We await your owl by no later than July 31st.

Yours sincerely,

Minerva McGonagall

Deputy Headmistress

You held the letter in your hands eyes gliding across the page. "Hogwarts?" you thought out loud. Every time your eyes flashed over the words witch and wizard your heart skipped a beat. An owl had come to you and delivered a letter for a magic school. To any other child, it would spark a whole new world of imagination. An escape perhaps from your boredom.

But was it true? A school is full of magic. The keys at the front door caught your attention. Your parents were finally home. Maybe they could answer all your questions.

Your tiny feet ran down the stairs. Both your parents step inside removing their shoes. Confused expression on their faces when you ran to them. Normally they'd find you deep into a book or your studies. They usually found you reading a book about whatever animal you had learned about or a piece of ancient history.

You rarely ever ran to greet them. They didn't mind it. They understood the powers a good book can hold.

"Hello darling," your mother said bending down and kissing your forehead. She squinted her eyes at the letter in your hand. Your father noticed it too. "What do you have there?" he asked pointing at the letter. You held up the cream-colored brownish letter.

"A letter from a witch school," you said eyes glowing. Your mother gasped and your father scoffed. He looked over at the nanny who was now awake. He walked over to her, paying her and quickly ushering her out. Your mother took you into the living room. You sat down on the couch. You sat in the same spot the nanny once sat in. It was still warm.

Your father sat on your left. You still held the letter between your small fingers. Your mother walked in with a sigh. She wiped her hands on her pants as she sat down on your right. A small smile formed on her lips. "May I see the letter?" she asked. You handed it to her with a small nod, as well as the envelope.

She expanded the letter reading the rest.

First-year students will require:

Three sets of plain work robes (black)

One plain pointed hat (black) for daywear

One pair of protective gloves (dragon hide or similar)

One winter cloak (black, with silver fastenings) Please note that all pupils' clothes should carry name tags. COURSE BOOKS All students should have a copy of each of the following: The Standard Book of Spells (Grade 1) by Miranda Goshawk A History of Magic by Bathilda Bagshot Magical Theory by Adalbert Waffling A Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration by Emeric Switch One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi by Phyllida Spore Magical Drafts and Potions by Arsenius Jigger Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them by Newt Scamander The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection by Quentin Trimble OTHER EQUIPMENT 1 wand 1 cauldron (pewter, standard size 2) 1 set of glass or crystal vials 1 telescope 1 set of brass scales Students may also bring an owl a cat OR a toad. PARENTS ARE REMINDED THAT FIRST YEARS ARE NOT ALLOWED THEIR OWN BROOMSTICKS

She nodded off chewing her lip. "Still the same," she said. She handed the letter off to your father.

He motioned her placing it down on the coffee table.

"What is it?" you asked the both of them. "What is Hogwarts?" you asked. Many questions flooded your mind. What did your mother mean by 'still the same'?

"Hogwarts is a school for wizards and witches," she said. You raised your bow confused. "But I'm not a witch or wizard," you responded. "They don't even exist," you said. Your mother chuckled. She gripped onto your hands looking deep into your eyes. Her warm smile calmed you. "There are many things that exist out there. Far beyond things you can imagine," she said. Your wide eyes and mind started to wonder. Surely your mother was either crazy or telling the truth.

You chose to believe she was telling the truth.

"So vampires exist?" you asked nervously. Your father chimed in. "Hogwarts isn't a school for creatures or monsters," he said touching your shoulder. You looked over at him with curious eyes. "It's a school for people like you," he said. You sat back his hand slipping off your shoulder. Your heart thumped skipping a beat. "For me?' you questioned. Your mother nodded.

"You're a witch Y/n," she said a hint of excitement in her voice.

"And a damn good one. Once they train you!" your father said charged. "Being that your mom was one of the best witches that ever existed," he said. Your mother looked away shly. While your parents egarly celebrated the letter you sat there on the brown couch still confused but intrigued.

----

At 11 you had arrived at the train station. You stepped onto platform 9 3/4 after running through the wall of the station saying goodbye to your parents. You were pleased to discover Jeno had also received a letter in the mail awaiting his arrival at Hogwarts. You had both gone to the station together. You both sat beside each other on the train. Looking outside the window. Wandering eyes glowing as kids much older than you walked around looking as if they knew exactly where they were going.

Once everyone boarded you and Jeno sat back on the chairs of the train sitting right across from each other.

"My father told me of a sport called Quidditch. He said he used to play during his time at Hogwarts," Jeno began excitedly feet barely touching the floor of the train. They swung back and forth as he spoke. A proud smile on his lips.

"I'm thinking of trying out for the team," he said. You nodded mimicking his smile. "I'm sure you'll make it. You were our school's best football player," you said. Jeno went to speak but a smaller boy with glasses walked by. He looked into your cart eyeing the book beside you. He scoffed pointing at it.

"Frogs? Seriously? Are you nine?" he asked cocky smile on his lips. You looked over at the book and then at him with a shrug. "I like reading it. Why do you care?" you asked a scrunch in your nose in annoyance. He scoffed arms crossing over his chest. "Frogs are boring and slimy," he said stepping into your cart. He moved the book to the side but it ended up falling on the ground.

You went to get it but Jeno grabbed it for you. "Thank you," you said with a smile. Jeno smiled at you and sent the stranger a dirty look. There was a small beat of awkward silence.

"Are you two some sort of couple?" he asked. Both you and Jeno frowned facing morphing into disgust. You shook your head. "No. He's my best friend," you said. Jeno nodded, "Besides I have a girlfriend," he said. The boy with the glasses chuckled. "Relax," he said. He turned back to you. He opened the bag he held handing you a book.

"Read this instead. It's way more interesting than that boring book of yours," he said handing the brown old book to you. You dusted it off.

1,000 Magical Herbs and Fungi

You looked up seeing the boy still next to you. "Why are you still here?" you asked. He opened his mouth surprised. Then closed it. He opened it again to speak but didn't. Instead, he stood up readying to exit the cart. Before he could exit an older lady with a cart of sweets stopped in front of him. She offered him some but he refused shaking his hand.

Jeno's eyes twinkled at the sweets. He had only seen hundreds of different candies once in London at a sweet shop. He stood up pushing the boy to the side. He huffed dusting off his brown vest. He fixed his glasses.

"Excuse me," he said to the lady. She moved her cart to the side for him to exit. Once he stepped out he turned to you.

"Make sure you return that book!" he said with a point of his finger. You went to ask him his name but he walked away. You huffed sitting back into the seat. He reminded you of a girl in your class. Always acting like she knew more than you. She constantly reminded you when she scored higher than you did. Especially on days you missed class because you were fighting her friends behind the school for stealing your books and homework. Samantha hated you were smarter than her.

Jeno sat down across from you. Many different colored sweets in his hand. He offered you a bright pink cotton-shaped candy but you shook your head. He shrugged moving closer to the window eating his sweets and watching each tree pass by. You turned to the book, eyeing the book of frogs. Maybe if you were going to Hogwarts it was time to leave the children's books behind and start focusing on things you'd need to know.

Like magic plants and their purposes. You opened the book to the first page. You noticed the book came from a library. You scanned the list of names. The last and most recent name reading was Huang Renjun.

----

At 11 years old you arrived at Hogwarts. At dusk, you traveled on a boat to reach the school. It was dark when you finally entered the school. You couldn't help but look and gawk at every piece of art, staircase, candle in the school. It was like something out of a storybook. The castle expanded the further you walked in. Feeling like the halls never ended.

You and the rest of the students were ushered into the dining hall. The tables quickly filled with kids just around your age. You stood close to Jeno. You both sat down at the same table. From where you sat you could see the kid from the train sitting beside a plumber boy with puffy pink lips. The two started talking becoming quick friends.

You looked away observing the rest of the room. Everything looked perfect, magical. Candles lit from the ceiling, floating over everyone. You could see stars from thousands of miles away. The table in front of you was filled with delicious full-course meals. The room was loud everyone excitedly getting to know one another and breathless taking in the large dining room.

You looked around the room eyes meeting with a brown-haired boy. He looked in your direction. Your eyes went big seeing him look back at you. A small smile formed on his lips. He waved at you. You raised your hand slowly waving back. Jeno leaned over your shoulder eyeing the direction you stared in. He zoomed in on the boy squinting his eyes. Once he realized you were making googly eyes to the boy he laughed.

You huffed rolling your eyes. "Ooo Y/n has a crush," he teased poking your shoulder repeatedly. You shrugged him off crossing your arms in front of you. "Shut up," you spat back annoyed. You looked away from him and at the new boy. He was laughing with a few boys next to him. Your hand rested on your palm eyes resting in his direction.

----

You were 11 when the sorting hat placed you in Gryffindor just after it placed Jeno there. You happily went to Jeno's side. Happy to remain close to your best friend.

You were 11 when the sorting hat placed that strange annoying boy with the glasses into Ravenclaw.

You were 11 years old when the boy with the brown hair and pink lips who you discovered was named Na Jaemin was placed into Slytherin. Your mother warned you of Slytherin's. But at that moment you had forgotten and were just happy to be with your best friend.

You looked at each boy and back at the room with a smile. You were ready to begin this new journey of your life.

Little did you know that these three boys would create such chaos in your life.

-----

You were in your second year at Hogwarts. Just twelve years old when your professor had to pair up with another student for a project in your Spells class. You went to choose Jeno, but your professor stopped you.

"Y/n," he called while everyone else found their partners.

You approached his desk Jeno waiting for you at your shared desk. "Yes?" you asked. He flicked away an inch on his nose. He motioned to the other students in the room. "You're a smart girl. Jeno doesn't need your help. I'm going to pair you up with a different student," he said. You weren't too worried about finding another partner. In your first year, you and Jeno made a new group of friends.

Still didn't mean you didn't want to pick your partner like everyone else.

"Who?" you asked. He pointed at a boy behind you. You turned and any worry about who it might be left your mind. It was the same brown-haired boy from the dining hall. The one with the big eyes and wide smile. He was leaning on his desk talking to a few of his friends. His head fell back in laughter.

"Jaemin," he said. You smiled a part of you excited. This was your chance to talk to him, get close to him. However, you had never really talked to a boy you liked before. Not without Jeno in your ear teasing you. This time it would be normal.

You made your way to him, a pep in your step. You tapped him on his shoulder. His friends, all Slytherin, eyed you. Their laughter dying down including Jaemin's. He turned his head over his shoulder tongue poking the inside of his mouth.

"Can I help you?" he said rather rudely. You brushed it off. Ignoring his bothered tone. "We're partners on the Spells project," you said. He scoffed leaning his body to you. "No we're not," he said. His friends started to chuckle. You could feel your cheeks heating up. You bit the inside of your mouth. It was getting harder to dismiss his tone.

You let out a sigh. "Look I don't want to be your partner either. Let's just get the project over with and I'll never speak to you again," you said annoyed. His laughter died down. He raised a brow pretending to think. He tapped his finger on his chin and then snapped his two fingers together.

"How about you do the entire project on your own and never speak to me again?" he said in the form of a question, a wide grin on his face. Just as you went to speak a book went flying to his head. Everyone turned to see who did it. Jeno had his arms crossed over his chest suspiciously looking the other way. You chuckled looking back at Jaemin who rubbed the back of his head.

He was the shortest crush you'd ever have.

-----

In year three you and Huang Renjun began to compete. You spent most of your time studying. Jeno being on the Quidditch team allowed you that extra time alone to study. You'd sometimes see Renjun in the library studying. You'd send glares to each other muttering under your breath.

In the classes you shared you'd always make sure your hand was up before his to answer the question the professor asked. At one point many students placed bets to see which of them would score higher on an exam.

You won almost every time.

----

By year four you and Jeno started to grow slightly distant. He was still always there for you and vice versa but things became more complicated when he started to become more curious about dating.

It seemed every week he had a new girl he liked. With a new girl in his life, he was crushing on.

You never paid too much attention to Jeno's dating life. Jeno for some reason loved to be involved in yours. You had a few crushes here and there but nothing ever too serious. He seemed to always want to know about them. If they were good enough for his best friend. If they treated you right.

But that's only for crushes he knew about. Most times he was playing Quidditch or with a girl.

You tended to focus more on your books anyway.

---

By year five you had officially hated Na Jaemin.

Jaemin seemed to pick you as his next victim. He teased you, but in the way Jeno did. When Jeno annoyed you it was out of friendship love. You knew deep down Jeno was harmless. But Jaemin was completely different. The boy was nutritiously known for playing around with girls before they slept with them, and then ghosted them.

You were not going to be one of those girls.

Jeno never really liked Jaemin either. Ever since he dissed you in front of the entire class during year two. However, there was not much he could say or do. The two of you in the Gryffindor common room had shared a moment togther.

He kissed you in the middle of the night. You kissed him back. He then asked you to the Yule ball. You said yes and when the night approached you saw him with another girl, laughing and dancing together. Then you saw them kiss later that night. Jaemin who saw the whole thing happened left you alone.

You weren't together but it still hurt.

That night you had your first argument with Jeno. Jeno was tired of you ignoring him. He just wanted to know what he did wrong. You told him and he became even more upset by your reasoning. He tried to explain the girl was his friend and he only danced with her because Jaemin stood her up.

He said "One Dance. I danced with her once because she was upset about Jaemin," he said.

"You still kissed her," you'd fight back. Jeno stunned and with a chest full of pain would ask. "You saw that?" to which you have replied with.

"Are you more upset that you hurt my feelings or that you got caught?"

You stopped being friends with him after that. It was too weird.

Renjun didn't bother you much during this time. You still competed but in silence.

Jaemin loved the fact you weren't friends anymore. It meant he could talk to you without Jeno getting in the way.

----

By year six you had gotten a boyfriend named Jaehyun. He was older than you and a Gryffindor as well. He was also captain of the Quidditch team. Jaehyun was a great guy. He treated you with respect and was very kind to you.

Jaemin and Jeno both didn't like him.

Jaemin still wouldn't leave you alone. Using magic to distract you during class.

Renjun became somewhat of your friend. He'd talk to you in the halls but it was really only to gloat about his accomplishments in and outside of Hogwarts. Any chance he got he would approach you. Reminding you that not only did he have rich parents but that he was smarter than you.

That same day would be the first time you got in serious trouble.

In the library, you used a spell to erase all his notes from year one to six. He failed his exam because of you. Your professors were disappointed. Word got out of what you did. Some people said you cheated. Others said he deserved it.

All you remember is that it made you feel good.

---

Now you'd start year seven. Much older and mature now. You and Jaehyun had broken up due to distance. You and Jeno were still not friends, Jaemin still enjoyed bothering you, and Renjun still hated you.

You still cared about Hogwarts, deeply. But not in the same way you had felt during year one. The same spark you had felt in the beginning began to fade. You started to imagine a world outside of Witchcraft. Maybe a normal job like your mom?

She was a witch and owned a flower shop in the muggle world. Maybe you could do something like that too.

So you thought.

To Be Continued...

Hope you enjoy my new series, Hogwarts Dreams at Night.

I'm excited for you all to read it!

See you soon ;)

Tag: @girlwholovesIpreppyattire

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