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#i have no idea if i like this fic but i need to get out of Editing Hell so here it is. idk man.
gffa · 2 days
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One thing that caught my attention while watching The Phantom Menace in the theater, a movie I didn't expect to find anything new with after how many times I've seen it and analyzed it, was that Sidious mentions multiple times that he has to change his plans to fit the new circumstances. It got me to thinking about how Palpatine gets credit for his carefully crafted plans, but often times not for how flexible he is in changing them on the fly, especially in time travel fics where someone destroys one of his plans and that's the end of it. Which, I'm not advocating against, I love a good Take That Wrinkled Walnut The Fuck Down However You Gotta Do It fic and I don't want them to change! But in canon Palpatine makes note of things he's not expecting, like:
When Valorum sends the Jedi as ambassadors, it's not part of Sidious' plan: DAULTAY DOFINE: This scheme of yours has failed, Lord Sidious. The blockade is finished. We dare not go against the Jedi. DARTH SIDIOUS: Viceroy, I don't want this stunted slime in my sight again! This turn of events is unfortunate. We must accelerate our plans. Begin landing your troops. NUTE GUNRAY: My lord, is that… legal? DARTH SIDIOUS: I will make it legal. NUTE GUNRAY: And the Jedi? DARTH SIDIOUS: The Chancellor should never have brought them into this. Kill them immediately!
On the Trade Federation ship, after Queen Amidala has disappeared from Naboo, Palpatine originally planned that she would be forced to sign the treaty, and then brings in Maul to deal with this. DARTH SIDIOUS: And Queen Amidala, has she signed the treaty? NUTE GUNRAY: She has disappeared, My Lord. One Naboo cruiser got pat the blockade. DARTH SIDIOUS: I want that treaty signed. NUTE GUNRAY: My Lord, it's impossible to locate the ship. It's out of our range. DARTH SIDIOUS: Not for a Sith. This is my apprentice. Darth Maul. He will find your lost ship.
On Naboo, after Padme allies with the Gungans: NUTE GUNRAY: We've sent out patrols. We've already located their starship in the swamp....It won't be long, My Lord. DARTH SIDIOUS: This is an unexpected move for her. It's too aggressive. Lord Maul, be mindful. MAUL: Yes, my Master. DARTH SIDIOUS: Be patient... Let them make the first move.
Palpatine's plans aren't static, they adapt and change with the events that happen, just as the other characters react to new information and head in new directions for it, so too does Palpatine and I think it's interesting to note that part of what makes him such a good villain is that he has an outline for what he wants to do, he sets up the dominoes of what he needs, but even when they don't fall precisely into place, he generally gets what he wants. He originally intended that Padme would sign the treaty, the Jedi wouldn't be involved, and that would lead to a vote of No Confidence to oust Valorum, using the sympathy for Naboo as a way to boost himself into the position. But he didn't really need her to sign it and still managed to use the sympathy for Naboo to get elected, it ultimately didn't matter what happened to the planet, so long as it was in danger while he needed it to be, he could use it either way. Nor, honestly, do I think he ever planned for Anakin Skywalker's existence, he had no idea they would find such a boy on Tatooine or how useful he was going to be, that was another way he changed his plans once the opportunity arose. Or a lot of his plots in TCW--he has Cad Bane steal the list of Force-sensitive children and kidnap them, bringing them to Mustafar for some sort of program to use them probably not too unlike how he uses the Inquisitors later. That plan is foiled by the Jedi, the babies are returned to their families, and Sidious' plans fall through, but that doesn't really change the outcome. tl:dr: I don't think Palpatine gets enough credit as a villain whose plans shift and change along with the new events that happen, just as much as the heroes' plans shift and change when new things happen. Yeah, he's a great villain because he creates an impossible trap for people, but also because the thing about him is that he's incredibly charming and charismatic and he knows an opportunity when he sees one, that any one given plan might fall through, but it's not necessary to his overall plot.
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reiderwriter · 1 day
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So obviously Spencer is iconic for his wide range of haircuts over the show, and I have this vision of a Spencer x hairdresser fic where he goes to the same hairdresser all the time because he likes the routine and it’s what he’s used to. So like they’re low-key friends bc he’s been her client so long, but then she notices he can’t come as usual and he tells her it’s because he’s always away or working late. So because they’re close she gives him private late appointments after she closes bc they’re more accessible for him, and then they’re always together late at night, and eventually they fall for each other!! And like she loves his curls and cringed when he wanted it cut short but loves it regardless AHH I JUST LOVE IT. Bonus points if Spencer gets to recommend his hairdresser girlfriend to his teammates just to brag about the fact he has a hot girlfriend lmao. I get it’s kinda long lol, if it’s too long a premise then no worries, just sharing it is nice :)
A/N: Hi! I love the idea of hair stylist reader, so I had a lot of fun writing this~♡ Thank you for your request, I hope you enjoy it!
W/C: 2.1k
Warnings: implied Autistic Reid, brief mentions of sensory issues, writer does not care for the shows Canon hair continuity and does basically whatever she wants.
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The first time you'd met Spencer Reid, you hadn't been able to cut his hair. Which was a damn shame because it really did need cutting. 
Sweeping up the floors of the hair salon you worked at, you had noticed the man lingering outside, wringing his hands together and pushing them awkwardly through his hair, approaching and retreating every few seconds. 
You watched him through the mirrors, and let him dance around like that for five minutes before deciding that the evening breeze would be a boon during the hot summer night that was about to set in on you. 
Opening the salon door, you stepped outside and soaked in the fresh air before turning to the now frozen, slightly awkward man. 
“Can I help you?” You tried to put a welcoming smile on your face, but the salon was past closing and empty beside you. You should've been heading home by now, but something in the man's posture had you dawdling.
“The barber shop down the road closed down,” he said quickly, as if the words were practised on his to guess moments before. 
“Yes, that's true. It's been six months now.”
“Six months?” he squeaked out, running a hand through his hair as he turned inwards. 
“Do you… need a haircut?” 
“Yes. Yes, are there any other barber shops in the area?” 
You rolled your eyes and walked back into the salon, picking up a robe and a shoulder cover and spinning around the closest chair to welcome him. 
“Well, are you coming in?” 
“But you're closed. Your sign says you're closed.” 
“And I'm still here, aren't I?” 
He didn't argue any further and hesitantly stepped into the salon. 
You helped him out of his bag and put it away before helping him into the robe and shoulder pad. 
He awkwardly stood around as you prepared your scissors and station again, switching on the mirror light so you could fully see his face and hair. 
And damn was he attractive. As you smoothed his hair out of his face, you were met with warm brown eyes, open and anxious, like a deer caught in headlights. Or, more accurately, a dear caught in a hair salon. 
You had to blink and look away as you remembered what you were about, standing up and leading him over to the sink. 
“I'm… I'm a little bit sensitive about my hair,” he admitted quite meekly as you tested the temperature of the water. 
“Okay. Is there anything specific?” 
He sat himself in the chair but didn't lower his head to the bowl, so you waited. 
After a minute or two, he gently lowered his head to the bowl, and you helped his progress, making sure he was comfortably settled. He didn't speak, just let his shoulders relax and closed his eyes as you turned the water on his locks. 
You enjoyed the simple repetitions of your job. Everyone's hair was different, that was true, but there were really only so many ways to wash hair. 
You rinsed his hair thoroughly, keeping the water away from his face and ears with a face guard before beginning to lather it up. 
For a man who hadn't seen the inside of a salon in six months and likely a hairbrush in the same length of time, his hair was healthy. 
De-tangling as you went, you ran your hands through the lengths of his hair, taking note of how it fell, which parts were healthy, and which had developed split ends. Then you began massaging his head, working the shampoo into his roots, making sure his scalp was free from any possible dirt or dry skin. 
This was the best part of the haircut for you, and you knew your regular clients enjoyed it greatly as well. Which is why you probably shouldn't have been too surprised when the man fell asleep. 
It took you a few minutes to realize that was what happened, the face guard obscuring his face from your vision. When you squeezed the water from his hair, patted it dry, and twisted it into a towel so the water wouldn't run down his back, you had no clue that he was away with the fairies. 
It wasn't until you asked him to stand, and he didn't even move that you moved around the sink and lifted the face guard. 
If he seemed anxious awake, it had melted away now. He looked younger asleep, more calm and confident somehow. His eyelashes were long, a fact you only noticed when you leaned in to get a better look at him. 
It was your hand unconsciously tracing a hand along his jaw that woke him back up, and for a second, you just stared at each other, faces inches apart. 
“I'm.. I'm so sorry, I should go. Thank you for… I should go,” he said hurriedly, pulling the robes and towels off and snatching his bag up, running out the door. 
“Wait, your hair,” you called after him, but he was gone. 
And he hadn't paid. 
It took a week for you to collect the payment, though you couldn't care less about the money anyway. 
But a week thinking about the man's delicate features, his shy smile and stutter, and you were very distracted. 
Thinking about him had become your full-time job, as much as cutting hair had, and you'd had a few close encounters with the scissors when you were lost in thought. 
You'd been thinking up back stories for the man ranging from the romantic to the obscure to the downright realistic. So, a week later, you found yourself behind on work and needing to stay late, just as he stepped into the shop a second time. 
“Hello?” You shouted from the backroom, hearing the doorbell jingle as it opened. “We're actually closed right now, so- oh.” 
He stood awkwardly in the door, his face already flushed slightly. 
“Hi.” 
“Hi,” you said, trying to stop the grin spreading across your face. You didn't want to scare him off a second time. 
“Last time, I… kinda ran away. I was… I'm not the best with-” 
“With haircuts?” 
“With change.” You both nodded at that, awkwardly staring at each other. 
“So…?” You lead, trying to encourage him to introduce himself, hoping he would reveal something you didn't already know. 
“You're closed again, but could you cut my hair?” He asked, pushing the long locks back on his head as he stood a little taller. 
“It would be my pleasure…” you trailed off as a question, needing to know his name. 
“Spencer. Spencer Reid. Doctor… just Spencer is fine if you'd prefer.” 
“I'm Y/N. Come and take a seat.” 
You slid him into the robes once again and got through a hair wash without any accidental naps this time. Though you did notice that he seemed to be enjoying it just as much. 
His sighs left you feeling hot, your heart beating as you focused on his hair to draw your gaze from his lips. 
When he was back I'm front of the mirror, he again looked like a scared cat that had been backed into the corner. 
“So, what'll it be, Spencer?” You asked cheerily, combing your hand through his locks to detangle them. 
“Hmm? Oh, a water would be nice.” 
“For your hair, Spencer. What haircut do you want?” 
“Oh! Oh, um, just a…just a haircut.” 
Your face scrunched up in confusion as he doubled down. 
“But what kind of haircut?” 
“What kind?” 
You pulled away from his chair for a minute and went to grab a cut reference book. 
“Okay, so we've got undercuts, or trims, I can do pompadour or bowl cut or-” 
You looked at Spencer's face again and saw that he looked more than confused. 
“How about I just cut your hair and after you tell me if you like it or not?” 
He nodded and gave you a weak smile as you grabbed your scissors. 
Twenty minutes of silence later, and you felt Spencer exhale in relief as you dusted off the back of his neck and pulled the robes off of his clothes. 
You'd gone for a shorter cut, but his curly hair had such a nice natural texture that you left it a bit longer on top. Without his hair in his face, his jawline was sharper, his eyes brighter, and you were somehow more infatuated. 
He stood up shyly and you smiled at how good he looked. 
“Okay, perfect! Let me just-” You lifted your hand and smoothed out some of his hair, picking up some strands and pushing them back and forth until it was just right. 
He caught your hand just as you were about to pull away, and you suddenly realized how close he was. Or more accurately how close you had gotten. It was like you were breathing the same air. 
“D-Do you like it?” You asked, voice small and high as it battled your heartbeat to be heard. 
“Yeah. I like it. It looks… it looks like a haircut.” 
You giggled as his grip became gentler, and your hand fell down to your side, brushing his chest gently as it descended. 
“How much do I owe you?” He asked, and you led him over to the register to complete the payment. 
“Thank you,” he said as he grabbed his bags to head out the door. 
“Just doing my job. I'll see you in six weeks,” you said, waving him off. 
“What for?” He asked, voice confused but bright. He sounded almost hopeful. 
“For your next haircut, Spencer.” 
He smiled and waved back as he walked back into the dark and disappeared down the street. 
No one could ever accuse Spencer Reid of being forgetful, and six weeks later, he was back in your chair. 
Except he didn't arrive at 11pm this time, but instead 11am. 
The other customers and stylists gawked at the man as he walked in, and you thanked the gods that your seat was free as he met your eyes. 
“Hi.” 
“Spencer! You're back.” 
He nodded shyly, head hanging a little as he ignored the many looks from the women in the room and the eruption of whispers and loud glances in his direction. 
“It's been six weeks. You said that's when I'd need another haircut.” 
You laughed a little as you pulled the robe around him. 
“You know, I say that every time, but most people ignore me. I love a man who can follow directions.” 
The eruption of red on his cheeks left you feeling suddenly tongue tied, and you carefully redirected the conversation back to the task at hand. 
“Same again, Doc?” You asked, readying your spray bottle and supplies. 
“Actually, could we, ah, go shorter this time?” Hesmiled sheepishly and watched as you ran your fingers through his tangled hair. 
“My boss, last time, said I looked like I joined a boyband, so…” 
“Your boss at the hospital?” You asked, clinging to every detail you could get from him. 
“The hospital?” 
“You said you were a Doctor, do you work in a lab instead or-”
“Oh. No, I work at the FBI. I'm not a medical doctor, I have a PhD. I have three, Chemistry, Engineering, and Mathematics.” 
You whistled. “Impressive. You can't be older than 30.” 
“I'm 29.” He said, smiling at you in the mirror, and you smiled back, hands still running through his hair. 
“So, no boy band haircuts, okay. For what it's worth, though, you look totally hot.” 
The words cut the conversation short, and you tried your best to take the words back as you went off to the sides to grab your sheers. 
Half an hour later, and you could swear that half the salon had given up pretending to be doing their jobs and were just awkwardly ogling the man. If the shorter “boyband” hair was good, the undercut you'd done for him was even better. 
You turned him around to get a closer look, using the excuse of making sure his hair was symmetrical enough to stare at him some more as you got closer to finishing. 
“Okay,” you said with a sad sigh. “You're all finished, Spencer. Let's get you rung up.” 
He nodded and followed you quickly, pulling out his wallet as he paid quietly. 
“Okay. And I'll see you tomorrow,” you said, as he picked up his bags to leave. 
“Tomorrow? I thought you said it was six weeks between haircuts.” 
“It is. But it's also my day off tomorrow, so I was wondering if you'd like to have dinner. With me.” 
He blinked at you once. Then twice, and another time before smiling and looking away. 
“Okay. See you tomorrow, Y/N.” 
He ran a hand through his hair and nearly walked into the door he was trying to walk through, but your heart still fluttered as you waved him out. 
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littlexdeaths · 3 days
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scotty doesn’t know - e.m. ii.
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eddie munson x fem reader
18+ ONLY MDNI
warnings: all characters are 18+, some angst, no use of y/n, cheating, protective eddie, shitty boyfriend behavior, unwanted touches/advances, underage drinking/partying, grinding, fingering, light praise kink, biting, unprotected piv sex, cream pie
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based on scotty doesn’t know by lustra
a/n: god i feel like this took me forever, so apologies for that. but i just need to thank both @undead-supernova and @xxbimbobunnyxx for helping me so much with getting this fic put back together. i love you both so so much. 🥹💕
word count: 8.3k
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Out of all the places you wanted to be on a Friday night, Jason Carver’s house wasn’t one of them.
The party was in full swing, music blasting from the speakers in the living room. Red solo cups and beer cans littered every available surface, as your classmates drank without a care in the world. Between the loud, synthy pop music and the constant chattering, you felt incredibly overwhelmed.
Parties were never really your scene.
You wanted nothing more than to go home and put on a film for the night. But dating a popular basketball player brought you out of your comfort zone more often than not. While that could be seen as a good thing, it was the opposite in this case. You never got to do things that you wanted, the plans always revolving around Scott.
However, there was one good thing about the party tonight. Or rather— someone.
Eddie Munson.
He’d kept his distance of course, so as not to raise any alarm bells with anyone. Most likely using the excuse of a good sale to be there in the first place. If anyone bothered to ask him. He rested his shoulder against the living room wall, a bag of freshly rolled joints clutched in his hand.
Eddie had surrounded himself with Robin and Steve the entire night, looking like he wanted to be there even less than you did. You can’t help but steal glances at each other from across the room.
Eddie looks good—he always does. His long curls are tied back in a low bun, sporting his signature ripped jeans and a Metallica shirt that hugs his broad shoulders nicely. You’ve wanted nothing more than to jump his bones the moment you got a chance to be alone.
The idea of sneaking off with him to one of the many guest rooms became more tempting as the party raged on.
You’ve secluded yourself on the sofa in the living room, adjacent to the makeshift dance floor. Thankful that most people are having too much fun to notice you there. You’ve been slowly sipping on a now watered down mixed drink, finding yourself feeling less and less in the party mood. However, your boyfriend seems to have other plans.
Scott is plastered. Irritatingly so.
You spent most of the night hiding from him, knowing how handsy he liked to get when he was drunk.
And as much as you’ve tried to pretend that everything was fine with Scott, your ability to fake it has become much harder. Especially knowing what you could be having instead.
So for the past week you’d avoided being alone with the basketball star. Ever since that fateful phone call the weekend prior. While you had still gone to the party that night, Scott eventually noticed something was up with you. Mostly due to the fact that you hadn’t let him touch you in over a week.
That was the driving force behind his drinking rampage tonight. The male had done 3 keg stands (that you’d witnessed) since he’d been here, on top however many beers he’d consumed. You’re exactly sure, but it’s the worst you’ve ever seen him.
Part of you does feel guilty, but a bigger part of you is starting to care less and less.
Ironically, Take Me Home Tonight by Eddie Money starts playing the moment he finds you again. But going anywhere with him is by far the last thing you wanted to do. The male slurs along to the track as he plops down next to you, nearly spilling his entire drink in your lap.
You can’t hide the grimace on your face as he leans into you, his breath reeking of stale beer. You grab the cup out of his hand before it spills everywhere. Huffing in annoyance as you set it down on the side table.
You really aren’t in the mood to play babysitter.
Scott’s hands, now empty, immediately grab at your hips to pull you in closer. His lips easily find your neck, the feeling of his hot breath making your skin crawl. You gently shove him off, but he leans back into your space immediately.
Normally you’d let him wear himself out, but you really don’t feel like it tonight.
“Scott, come on stop,” you sigh, no longer able to hide the irritation in your voice.
But your boyfriend is clearly not listening, continuing to press sloppy kisses along the exposed skin of your collarbone. A muffled moan leaves him as he guides your hand onto his lap.
You’re no longer able to conceal the alarmed expression that appears on your face as you tug your hand away. “I mean it, Scott.” He just groans in annoyance, feeling his fingers hook into the loop of your jeans.
“You’re too drunk, I said knock it off,” your voice drips with malice, despite how panicked you feel.
The male would always listen if you ever told him off, but his current state of intoxication clearly overtakes any rational thought.
“Oh come on, babe. We haven’t fucked in over a week, I have needs,” he slurs.
Before you have the chance to respond, the weight of his body disappears. You quickly glance up, your eyes widening in shock. Eddie has pulled your boyfriend up by the collar of his polo shirt, and suddenly it’s like the air is sucked out of the room.
Scott is fuming, a slew of curses leaves his mouth as he attempts to shove him off. Eddie is stone faced as he releases him abruptly, causing Scott to stumble backwards. He recovers quicker than you expected, raising his fist to aim a punch at the metalhead. But Eddie’s reflexes are much faster, catching the closed fist and knocking it away.
Scott was good in a fight, but he’s too inebriated to do much damage at this point.
“She said to knock it off, Scotty. I know you’re stupid but are you deaf too?”
You quickly get up and squeeze yourself between the two males, a clear pissing contest about to ensue if you don’t intervene. Your back is pressed against your boyfriend's chest, as your eyes plead with your lover to calm down.
“She’s my girlfriend Munson, fuck off,” he sneers.
The music has suddenly been turned down to a more tolerable volume, the focus of the party now shifting onto you— much to your dismay.
You can feel Scott’s hot breath against your neck, as his hands wrap around your middle to pull you further against his chest. Eddie is furious, his jaw clenched so hard you can see the muscles straining underneath his pale skin.
If you weren’t in this current predicament, you might have found it sexy. But you’re far too anxious to focus on anything else right now.
“Doesn’t matter, she doesn’t want you to fucking touch her,” Eddie’s voice continues to raise, until he’s almost yelling over your head. “No means no, dickhead!”
You can see Jason beginning to push through the crowd, Steve hot on his heels. The last thing you wanted was for this whole situation to escalate further. But judging by the look on Jason's face, you don’t know if you can stop it.
The crowd is clearly itching for a fight to break out, the whole atmosphere of the party shifting.
“Hey, freak! Who even invited you here?”
Eddie doesn’t even flinch at Jason’s insult.
“I did, Carver,” Steve answers, inserting himself in the already strained situation.
The tension between the four males is so thick, it makes you wish the ground would open and swallow you whole. Steve glances down at you for a moment before continuing, “But it seems to me like you need to get McGuire here in line. She’s clearly uncomfortable.”
You feel multiple pairs of eyes flick back to you, your shoulders slouching in an attempt to make yourself appear smaller. You catch Jason’s gaze, knowing he can clearly see the distress flitting over your features. The blonde sighs deeply, resting a hand on Scott’s shoulder.
“Scott, come on, just let it go,” he says, beginning to tug the male away from you. “You’ve had too much to drink.”
Before your boyfriend can even begin to protest, Jason and a newly joined Patrick lead him away. While you’re quite shocked that he was willing to break this up, part of you is thankful. Normally, the pair would egg each other on to keep a fight going. But as big of a prick Jason Carver is, he knew Steve was right.
You can feel the tears welling in the corners of your eyes, the party seeming to return to normal. While Steve has also disappeared into the crowd, Eddie hasn’t moved an inch. His eyes follow the group of jocks as they filed out of the room, casually flipping them the bird.
But his focus quickly returns to you. You can see in his eyes how he so desperately wants to envelop you in his arms and kiss your tears away.
But he knows he can’t. Not here.
Those protective urges are getting harder and harder for him to fight.
He opens his mouth to speak, but before he can say anything else you’re rushing past him. Pushing through the sea of drunken teens and to the front door. Your fight or flight instincts are finally kicking in, and you know you have to leave.
Anywhere is better than here.
You’d hitched a ride to the party with Chrissy, but you’re not about to try and find her now. You need to be alone.
You run for almost three blocks before you have to stop, resting your hands on your knees as you try to catch your breath. You take a minute to let your heart rate slow to a more steady rhythm before you start walking in the direction of your house.
While Hawkins is a relatively small town, your house is still a couple miles from the party. Walking the entire way isn’t the most ideal plan, but you didn’t give yourself much of a choice. And there’s no way you were going back there now.
You can only imagine the rumors that will be floating around the school come Monday. As much as you try to put on a brave face, you care too much about what your peers thought of you. You can already hear the kind of insults that would be thrown your way.
Skank, prude, lying whore.
The possibilities of cruel words were endless. You let out a small hiccup as you continue down the dimly lit street, finally allowing the tears to roll freely down your cheeks. You don’t want to give them the satisfaction of seeing you cry too.
How did you even get to this point?
Two months ago you couldn’t have foreseen yourself in this position. Falling for another guy, whilst simultaneously falling out of love with another. If you ever loved Scott to begin with. You’re not entirely convinced of that fact.
It felt like the easiest option, being with someone like Scott McGuire. He’s well-liked, a person your parents approve of. But you weren’t really happy, just going through the motions instead of chasing what you really want.
Perhaps that was what Eddie had really witnessed that night he had stumbled across you and Scott. Someone who was desperately searching for a way out. And he’d given it to you in ways you never expected.
Eddie was kind, attentive— cared about your feelings and desires.
What started off as just sex quickly snowballed into something much deeper. You had never really given much thought to your own needs. Maybe that was why his offer was too good to pass up, it let you indulge in uncharted territory.
You’d been labeled as a good girl your entire life. You never rebelled and always do exactly as you’re told. To the extent that you never felt an ounce of control over the trajectory of your own relationship. Or many other facets within your life.
It was whatever Scott or your parents thought was best for you. They’ve never taken into consideration what you had actually wanted.
But being with Eddie was like a breath of fresh air. It filled your lungs, greedily inhaling everything he has to offer. After struggling beneath the current for so long, there was no way you would let it pull you back under.
A cool breeze suddenly whips across your face, stinging your wet cheeks. You wrap your arms tighter around yourself to stop a shiver. Thankfully, you had forgone the usual skirts or dresses you adored, in favor of a sweater and jeans. Grateful for the extra layers to combat against the sudden drop in temperature.
You keep your head down as you continue to walk further down the quiet street. Only the sounds of your sneakers padding against the concrete and your soft sniffles fill the night air. It’s almost peaceful.
You make it another block before that tranquility is interrupted. You hear the loud rumble of an engine as a vehicle approaches you from behind. While not many people would be out past midnight in this sleepy town, you don’t think anything of it. You figured they would continue driving down the empty street.
That is until that same vehicle begins to idle next to you.
You glance out of your peripheral and curse softly. You would recognize that van anywhere, having found yourself in the back of it more times than you could count.
The window is cranked down as you turn away, beginning to walk a little faster. But the van keeps pace with you regardless. Eddie calls your name, but you keep your eyes trained on the ground. Tears are steadily streaming down your cheeks now, smearing your mascara.
While the brunette has seen you cry before— it was under very different circumstances. This feels different, like he’s seeing you naked for the first time all over again. Only this time you don’t feel ready for it.
You feel vulnerable and exposed.
You hate it.
Eddie proceeds to plead your name, as you continue to ignore him. He let the upper half of his torso practically hang out of the driver’s side window. The theatrical nature of it is almost enough to make you crack a smile. But you know he wasn’t going to give up until you at least tried to talk to him. With how he had stood up for you, he at least deserves that.
Having made up your mind, you suddenly stop in your tracks. The van squeaks to a halt beside you, the male flinging the driver’s side door open. You see his scuffed Reebox’s first, letting your eyes linger there for a moment. But you immediately squeeze them shut as his fingers softly grasp your chin, tilting it up.
“Sweetheart, look at me, please.” His tone is gentle, but still laced with concern. “It’s just you and me, you’re safe.” The sincerity behind those words has your heart skipping a beat.
You let out a shaky breath as your eyes begin to flutter open. His face is blurred from the tears flooding your lash line. You slowly blink them away until he finally comes into focus.
“There she is…” he declares, the indent in his cheek deepening as he smiles.
The male cups your face between his palms, letting their warmth seep into your cheeks. His thumbs swipe away any lingering tears as he presses a kiss to your temple. Eddie envelops you in his arms, letting you bury your face into his chest. You breathe in the familiar scent of his cologne, letting him hold you like that for a while.
The glow of the street lights cascades down on both of you. The night air only seems to grow colder the longer you both stand there. A shiver runs through you despite the heat radiating from his chest, something he doesn’t miss.
“Alright, time to go, doll,” he mumbles softly, “Can I drive you home?”
You are silent for a moment, mulling over your options in your head. “No,” you finally say, untangling yourself from him.
He looks a little hurt as you turn to walk towards his van, that hurt morphing into confusion as you yank open the passenger door.
“I don’t want to go home,” you explain, seeming to snap him out of his frozen stature. Eddie quickly climbs back into the van, the door barely slamming shut behind him before he pulls back onto the road.
He keeps one hand on the steering wheel, the other tangled with yours on the seat. When you left the party, you had fully intended to go home alone.
But being tangled up with him sounds like a much better option.
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You had never been to Eddie’s trailer.
Whether that was intentional or not, you’re not sure. But it’s the one place that he has never taken you to.
He seems nervous as he leads you through the living room. Your eyes wander curiously around the room, taking in the large collection of coffee mugs and hats that decorate the walls. Eddie sheepishly begins picking up some discarded food wrappers, junk mail— all in an effort to tidy up a little.
“Sorry about…” He pauses, hands full as he motions around the room. “All of this." You refrain from rolling your eyes. Tossing some items into the trash, he jokes, “Goddamn maid left us high and dry last week.”
“Let me guess…she ran off with some wannabe rockstar?” You smile, watching as he leans against the kitchen counter with a matching grin.
“Something like that.”
Despite what Eddie has implied about his humble abode, you liked it the moment you crossed the threshold. It has character, a clear representation of the two men who live there. But it also feels warm and incredibly inviting, something your own home hasn’t felt like in quite a long time.
His uncle already left for the night shift, which means the two of you have the place to yourselves. Eddie shows you to the bathroom, giving you a moment alone to collect yourself. But mostly to clean up the mess your mascara had made on your cheeks.
You emerge from the bathroom a few minutes later, Eddie nowhere in sight. He didn’t tell you which room was his, but it doesn’t take you long to figure it out. The door at the end of the hall was left slightly ajar, golden light spilling out onto the shag carpet. But it’s the strum of a guitar that ends up being your guide.
You push open the door to his bedroom, unable to help the small smile that graces your features as you take it all in. The room is a little messy and cluttered— something you expected.
You let your eyes roam over the many posters splayed across the walls, Metallica, Slayer… and one handmade one. Corroded Coffin. You knew Eddie was in a band—it was the one of the things apart from DnD that he seemed extremely passionate about.
Music.
Eddie’s quiet as he sits on the edge of his unmade bed, an acoustic guitar perched on his lap. This machine slays dragons, is painted in white on the side of the instrument. You find yourself suddenly mesmerized, watching as his fingers slowly brush over the strings.
He finally notices how you’ve planted yourself in the doorway, glancing up at you from underneath his lashes.
“Make yourself at home, sweetheart,” he smiles, gesturing around him. “What’s mine is yours.”
He focuses his attention back on the instrument in his lap, testing out a few chords as you shut the door behind you. You step further into the room, letting your fingers trail along the top of his desk.
Being alone with him like this suddenly feels more intimate than any other time before. It’s like he’s letting you peek inside his mind, showing pieces of himself that not many others get to see. Only those that he trusts. And you can’t deny how it warms your insides.
You’re a little too busy exploring the rest of his room that you don’t notice when his eyes have drifted back to you. The brunette gazes at you fondly when you spot a pair of handcuffs dangling next to his mirror. His soft chuckle fills the room as you reach out to run your fingers over the cool metal.
“We can definitely put those to use, doll.” Those words have you squirming, warmth spreading through your limbs. You shy away as you take a seat in the chair next to his desk. “If you want.”
Eddie grins at your flustered expression, glancing back down at his guitar. He’s playing freely now, the chords unfamiliar to you. But they’re beautiful nonetheless.
“You’re really good at… uh,” you trail off softly, gesturing to the instrument.
You notice how the tips of his ears flush pink from your admission, although he acts unfazed by your compliment.
“What, fingering?” he teases, purposefully pressing his fingers down onto the guitar strings in a dramatic manner which makes you giggle.
The song he was playing quickly morphs into something else, something quite familiar. But you can’t quite put your finger on it. You lean forward to rest your chin in your palm.
The moment he begins to hum the lyrics is the moment when the song becomes abundantly clear.
I, I will be king… and you, you will be queen.
“Heroes,” you murmur, the word almost becoming lodged in your throat.
You had mentioned to Eddie in passing a few weeks ago that it’s your favorite Bowie song.
You never expected him to do anything with that information, or even remember it. But he kept finding ways to surprise you. This small act alone proves that he truly cares about you, that he listens to you. It’s overwhelming in the best way possible.
Your body suddenly feels too warm under the thick layers of clothing. Rising to your feet, you grip the hem of your sweater and pull it over your head. You let the soft material fall to the floor, joining a heap of his own clothing. Standing before him in only your bra and jeans.
Eddie seems to fumble over the next few notes as he takes in your newly exposed skin, averting his gaze as he clears his throat. Now it’s your turn to make him flustered.
But he can’t help but glance at you out of the corner of his eye, as you begin unbuttoning your jeans. You shimmy the denim down your legs, kicking them off to the side. You felt emboldened as you strolled over to the brunette’s dresser. His eyes boring into your back as you rummage through his drawers.
You’re in search of a particular item, a smile stretching across your face once you locate it amongst the various band tees. Reaching behind your back you unclip your bra, you let the straps slide off of your shoulders. The item quickly joins the rest of your discarded clothes on his floor.
You don’t hear how his breath hitches in his throat over the strum of his guitar.
You pull Eddie’s faded hellfire shirt from the drawer and slip it over your head. The soft fabric glides over your skin, the hem falling just past the curve of your ass. It smells like an intoxicating mixture of his cologne and laundry detergent.
You hum softly as you breathe it in, turning to face him again. His dark eyes are blown wide, the guitar now almost forgotten in his hands. Just the sight of you in his clothes is making him feel things he’d be too afraid to admit out loud.
You saunter towards him, carefully grasping the neck of the guitar and leaning it against his dresser. He seems dumbfounded as you climb into his lap and wrap your arms around his neck. You tilt your head down towards his ear, lips grazing over it. Enjoying the way he almost shudders beneath you.
“I just want to thank you properly,” you whisper, nipping at his lobe.
Your lips continue to trail across his jaw until you reach his mouth, unable to hold back any longer as you press your lips to his. The feeling of your mouth molding against his own seems to snap Eddie out of whatever trance he was in. His large hands easily find the curve of your waist, gripping the fabric of the shirt in his fists.
Eddie kisses you slowly but deeply, trying to savor the taste of your mouth on his. Your fingers slip the elastic band out of his hair, letting his curls cascade wildly over his shoulders. But the longer he kisses you, the worse the ache between your thighs becomes.
In desperate need of some friction, you grind your hips down against his crotch. Whining as you feel his hardened cock through his jeans. He’d been struggling with it ever since you took that first piece of clothing off. Initially, he was going to ignore it, but then you climbed right into his lap and he lost all sense of logic.
But as much as he wants this to continue, he knows you’re not in the right kind of headspace for more. He groans into your mouth as you continue to rub yourself against him, but his firm grip on your hips stops any further movement. Your eyes flutter open, confusion filling them.
“Slow down, sweetheart,” he pants, one of his hands lifted to carefully cup your cheek. “We don’t have to do anything tonight.”
The look he’s giving you has your heart stuttering, but his words are throwing you for a loop. The whole basis of this… arrangement was sex. The fine line between a casual hookup and a relationship have been blurred for a while. But tonight has made it crystal clear that this has evolved into something much more than that.
Even if neither of you wanted to admit it.
“Do you not want…” you trail off, unable to hide the sliver of hurt in your tone.
He shakes his head, leaning his forehead against yours with a strained sigh.
“Trust me, doll. I definitely want to.” He chuckles, shifting his hips beneath you. “But tonight was… fuck, it was intense. And you can't expect me to believe you're okay after all that. I just want you to have a clear head, is all.”
You mull over his words for a moment as the weight of what happened earlier crashes back over you. And with it, squashing any urge to finish what you had just started.
"I'm not that asshole,” he continues, unable to make out your puzzled expression. “You don't have to fuck me just to make me happy. I'm happy just being with you, like this."
You’re willing yourself not to cry again as he gently presses a tender kiss to your forehead. Eddie basks in the scent of your strawberry shampoo, feeling you start to relax against his chest.
“Now, I don’t know about you.” He yawns, nuzzling your nose with his. “But I think we’ve had enough excitement for one night.”
You laugh quietly, nodding as you climb off his lap. Draping your body over the bed, keeping your eyes focused on him. The male stands to strip down to his boxers, in such a hurry to get back to you that he almost trips over his jeans.
“Down, boy, I’m not going anywhere.” You giggle as he slips under the covers with you.
A sheepish grin tugs at his lips as he clicks off the bedside lamp, bathing the room in darkness. You reach for him just as he does for you, your hands bumping together clumsily.
“Scoot closer.” You can almost hear the pout in his voice, eagerly moving forward until his bare chest is pressed against your clothed one.
“Much better,” he hums.
Eddie slots one of his legs between yours, snaking his arms around your waist. There’s no part of you that isn’t completely entangled in him. You can feel his clothed erection pressing into your hip, and that sense of guilt washes over you again.
Knowing you’d left not one, but two guys pent up tonight.
“I’m really sorry for everything tonight,” you whisper into the darkness, feeling his arms tighten around you.
“Hey, don’t do that. You have absolutely nothing to be sorry for.”
You nod, but those feelings welling up inside you don’t dissipate. Not completely.
Eddie begins to rub soothing circles over your hip, continuing up your side. Your body tenses as you try to stifle a laugh. The male doesn’t realize that his touch isn’t exactly… soothing. But the further his hand creeps up your side the more you start to squirm and a small gasp leaves your lips.
That sound alone is enough to tip him off, now well aware of what he’s done. You can vaguely make out his mischievous grin in the dark, calculating his next move. Before you have time to react both of his hands are trailing up your sides, tickling you.
“Eddie!” You squeal as your body thrashes in his embrace, rolling you underneath him in the process.
The chain of his necklace dangles in your face, his fingers unrelenting as he pulls giggle after giggle out of you. This is a sound he’d vowed to hear as often as he could, his own laugh mingling with yours.
“S’not f-fair!” you squeak out between fits of laughter before he finally lets up so you can breathe. You’re panting a little, your noses brush against each other.
“I like making you laugh,” he admits, almost shyly. “It’s cute.”
You reach out for his face in the darkness, leaning up to press a gentle kiss to his jaw. You can feel the warmth that’s radiating against your lips, allowing your lips to linger there for a moment.
Coming to the realization that you’d just made Eddie Munson blush brings a wide smile to your face.
“I just want to say thank you for earlier… and for letting me stay the night. I really appreciate it.”
Eddie settles back down next to you on the mattress, your palms resting against his chest. His lips search for yours in the darkness, leaving kisses all over your face in his fumbling attempt to find your lips. Another round of giggles escapes you from the tender gesture.
His ability to make you feel so safe and secure is still so new to you. You don’t want this feeling to end— you never want any of this to end. However, you know this isn’t fair. Eddie doesn’t deserve to be someone’s secret.
But as time passed and this relationship continued to progress, the more you began to realize that you didn’t want to keep him a secret anymore.
“Anytime, sweetheart,” he mumbles, his voice thick with sleep.
You snuggle yourself further against him, limps tangling together. With your ear pressed to his chest, you can hear the steady beat of his heart. The way his breathing starts to slow and become more even.
“Goodnight, Eds,” you whisper, stifling another laugh as a soft snore answers you.
You allow your eyes to slip shut, exhaustion finally overtaking you as his heartbeat continues to lull you to sleep.
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Sunlight streaming through the thin curtains is what awoke you that next morning.
A sigh falls from your lips as you attempt to stretch out your overly stiff limbs. Which is when you feel a stirring beneath you. Your eyes fly open as the events of last night trickle back in.
The party, Scott being a grade A asshole, Eddie taking care of you...
If your body wasn’t currently draped over him, you might have convinced yourself it was all a dream. That Eddie dropped you off at home, and you were snuggled beneath your floral bedspread. But to your relief, that clearly isn’t the case.
Your body stills in an attempt not to stir the sleeping metalhead beneath you. At some point during the night you must have gotten yourselves into this position. Laying on his chest, with his arms wrapped securely around your middle. But you don’t mind in the slightest.
In fact, you feel more rested than you have in quite some time. You just wish you could stay like this forever, wrapped up in him and only him. Lifting your head, you rest your chin on your hand and begin to study his sleeping features.
He looks completely at ease.
Faint freckles are scattered across his nose and cheeks, his long lashes fanning over them. His dark curls are wild from sleep, fanned out over his flannel pillowcase. Pouted lips slightly chapped, but kissable all the same. He really is beautiful.
You continue to watch him sleep for a while longer, the morning sun cascading over the tops of his cheekbones. But his breath remains even, small snores slipping out every so often. As you gaze at him, you can’t help but silently scold yourself.
You’re falling for Eddie Munson more and more each day, and you know you can’t keep this up.
You have to end things with Scott.
And as much as you want to stay snuggled up with Eddie, your body has other needs. You don’t exactly know how you’re going to get up without disturbing him, but your bladder is in desperate need of relief.
You sigh as you begin to shimmy further down his body, your legs falling on either side of his hips. A squeak of surprise leaves you as you feel his hard on pressing against your inner thigh through his boxer shorts. It shouldn’t have been that big of a shock to you—morning wood is normal, right?
But you didn’t have much experience with sleepovers of this nature. Despite dating Scott for well over a year, you’ve never spent the night with him like this. So it’s something quite new to you. While you silently ponder over this, Eddie begins to stir again.
A soft moan tumbles past his lips as you accidentally press yourself harder against his boner in an attempt to swing your leg back over the other side of his hip.
“Mm… where do you think you’re going, doll?” His voice is thick with sleep, an octave lower than normal. The gravelly nature of it makes heat shoot between your legs.
You curse softly as you glance up at him, those chocolate hues gazing back at you. Eddie’s fingers splayed across the tops of your thighs, sliding up to encircle your hips. You feel your body flush, his eyes darkening as he looks you over— straddling him, wearing nothing but his shirt.
When he lifts his hips to grind you against him, you can’t stop the whimper that escapes.
“Eds, hold on. I have to pee,” you mumble, feeling embarrassed as his hips still beneath you.
He just lets out a deep laugh as his hands release your hips. You climb over him, quick to scramble off the bed.
“Alright, I guess I’ll allow it,” he teases, the tips of fingers brushing against yours. “Just hurry back, sweetheart.”
Your heart warms at the sight of him, his brown eyes filling with adoration as they look up at you. Leaning over the bed, you press a small kiss to his mouth. A giggle leaves your own as he gives your ass a small pat before you book it to the bathroom.
You feel much better after finally relieving yourself, washing your hands as you glance into the mirror. Your eyes almost sparkle in the muted light, a dopey smile stretched across your face. Is this what it feels like to be in a healthy relationship?
You don’t dwell on it long, far too eager to return back to him. You slip out of the bathroom and tiptoe back to Eddie’s bedroom. Taking extra care to be quiet as you weren’t sure if Wayne has returned home from work yet. And frankly, you’d be mortified if you met him under these conditions—with you clad in only Eddie’s shirt and your panties.
What a great way to make a first impression.
You close his bedroom door behind you slowly, letting the lock click gently into place. You turn back around to face him and lean against the door. Eddie is in the same spot you had left him, only now he’s leaning halfway up on one elbow. That hunger hasn’t left his gaze as he beckons you over with his index finger.
Looking at his hands makes your thighs clench together, knowing all the wonderful things they were capable of. You take your bottom lip between your teeth as you approach him, stopping at the edge of the mattress. Eddie’s fingers ghost over the plush skin of your thighs, leaving goosebumps in his wake.
They continue up until they reach the elastic of your panties. He gives you a look, silently asking for permission. You guide his fingers beneath the fabric, aiding him in sliding them down your legs. As you step out of the material, your eyes glance back up to meet his.
“Come here.”
It’s spoken softly, but the command in his voice makes your breath hitch.
You move on instinct, your desire fueling your actions as you straddle his hips. There’s a fluidity in your movements as you rest your hands on his chest. Your manicured nails gently trail over his stomach, watching the lust continue to swirl behind his irises.
While this wasn’t a position you’d dabbled in up to this point, the way he’s regarding you has your confidence flourishing. He wants you, and he wants you badly.
At this point you’d give him the moon and the stars if he asked.
Once you’re settled on top of him, you can feel how his cock strains against the fabric of his boxers. Testing the waters, you glide yourself along his shaft, his hands reaching up to encircle your waist. He simply rests them there, allowing you to take the lead.
The worn cotton of his briefs provides some much needed friction against your clit. You bite down on your lip in an attempt to keep a moan from slipping out. But the male isn’t having any of that. He reaches his hand up to remove your lower lip from between your teeth.
His calloused thumb brushes over your mouth, slipping the digit past your lips.
“No need to be shy, sweetheart. I wanna hear you.”
You nod your head, humming as your tongue swirls around his thumb. You eagerly suck it deeper into your mouth, which pulls a low groan from him. But Eddie can only take so much of your teasing, removing his thumb to grip back onto your hips. Your lower lip juts out in a small pout, which causes him to chuckle.
“Now none of that, or I’ll give you something to pout about,” he quips, giving your ass a warning smack.
The hint of a threat in his tone has you whimpering, guiding your hips harder along his shaft.
You grip the hem of his shirt in between your fingers, beginning to lift it over your hips but he stops you. A brow raising as you look down at him.
“Fuck, keep it on,” he says with a groan. “Wanna see you riding me in it.”
His confession has you feeling timid, letting your hands settle back at your sides. Eddie’s fingers begin to trail over the top of your thigh, before dipping between them. His digits glide between your slick folds, brushing over your bundle of nerves. It causes your breath to hitch, eagerly grinding your hips back against his fingertips.
“Eddie, please,” you breathe.
“Use your words, pretty girl,” he hums. “Tell me what you want.”
Impatience gnawed at you as you lifted your hips, your fingers dipping past the waistband of his boxers. You tug them down to release his cock from their confines, your actions surprising you both. As much as you loved when he touched you, your body was already craving more.
Wrapping your palm around the base of his shaft, he groans. His jaw slackens as he watches you guide the tip through your drenched folds. Nudging it against your clit once…twice…a third time.
Before you finally line him up with your entrance, guiding your hips down.
“Shit, hold on doll, need a condom.”
Eddie holds you in place with one hand, as the other reaches over into his night side table. He’s blindly searching for one of the foil packets when you blurt out, “I don’t want it. Need you to fuck me raw, Ed.”
Your words stop him in his tracks, eyes widening in almost disbelief. You suddenly feel nervous, praying you didn’t just ruin everything with your admission.
“Are you sure? I-I wouldn’t want to risk…” he trails off, licking his lips as he regards you with a somewhat guarded expression.
You nod, leaning forward to whisper in his ear, “I’m on the pill. I just… I want you to be the first one to do it, Eddie.”
His groan rumbles through his chest, the implication behind your words only makes him want you more. Scott never got to do this.
This is something that would be his, and his alone.
His hand cradles the back of your neck, guiding your face towards his. Crashes his lips against yours, the desperation behind them telling you his resounding answer. But you want to hear him say it. Nipping at his lower lip, you pull away to sit back up and rest your palms on his chest.
The male is panting beneath you, his flustered expression only causes your confidence to grow. A smirk adorns your features as Eddie lifts his hips upward in an attempt to grind them into yours, but you push back against his hip to stop the movement.
“Nuh uh, handsome,” you purr, your fingertips gliding through the hair just below his navel. “Tell me what you want. Use your words.”
Eddie’s brain nearly short circuits as you use his former words against him. A slew of curses tumbles from his lips as you grasp his cock in your hand, rubbing it through your folds but not yet breaching the entrance. Awaiting his response as you continue to tease him, feeling his fingers grasping onto your ass.
“Fuck, I wanna come inside you so bad, sweetheart,” he whines.
You hum in approval, leaning back down to press a sloppy kiss to his mouth. Eddie instantly reciprocates, his tongue working its way past your lips. You teasingly suck the muscle into your mouth before pulling away. A string of saliva connects you as you sit up fully. Eddie curses again, his hands gripping onto your ass even harder.
“Fuck— come on, please.”
Hearing Eddie Munson beg is what finally breaks your resolve, slowly sinking down onto his cock.
It didn’t matter how many times you’ve had him, he always made you feel so full. This time feels…different, though. It’s as though you can feel every vein and ridge of his cock caressing your inner walls, the sensation has you gasping. Your body stills once he’s fully sheathed inside you, letting your palms splay across his chest.
“That’s it, takin’ me so good, doll,” he grunts as his head falls back against the pillow. His praise has you beaming.
You stay like that for a moment until you become familiar with the feeling of him inside you again. Beginning to lift your hips slowly, his cock nearly slipping out of you completely. As you begin to lower yourself onto him again, his face contorts in pleasure—now hiding those beautiful irises from you.
“Eddie… baby. Look at me,” you coo.
The pet name slips past your lips almost too easily, enjoying the way it sounds on your tongue. Eddie’s eyes snap back open to meet yours. His pupils are blown wide, the black nearly swallowing the brown of his irises whole. The male peers up at you in a mixture of lust and awe as you continue to take him deeper.
If he could watch you ride him all day, he would.
However, your leisurely pace is starting to drive him insane. The brunette begins to buck his hips up into yours, swift but deep thrusts that take you by surprise. A moan gets caught in your throat as he rams into your sweet spot, eyes rolling back into your head. Witnessing your visceral reaction, he continues to repeat the action as your chest starts to heave.
“Christ, you look so pretty with my cock inside you, baby,” he moans, his fingers digging harder into your hips.
Any thoughts of remaining quiet are thrown out the window the moment he speaks. A loud moan rips itself from your throat, filling the silence of his bedroom. His praise has your walls tightening around his shaft, your head falling forward as you open your eyes. A smug look adorns his features, eyes falling to where your bodies connect.
He looks so good like this— underneath you, eyes wide and his cheeks beautifully flushed.
“You like that don’t you? My pretty girl…”
The sound that leaves you is borderline pornographic, nails digging into his shoulders as you ride him faster. You can’t disguise the way your body reacts to being called his, your arousal making a slippery mess between your bodies.
You reach for him, coaxing him up until your chests are pressed together. Lips find each other instantly, tangling your fingers in his already wild locks. One of his hands travels between you, rubbing at your swollen bud.
“Fuck— Eddie,” you cry out as he massages your clit faster, simultaneously bucking his hips up into you.
You meet each of his thrusts by slamming your hips back down, thighs burning with the effort. One more brutal thrust into your cervix has you seeing stars, your head burying itself into the crook of his neck. You bite down onto the flesh of his shoulder to muffle a loud cry.
Your thighs tremble as your body slumps forward—unable to continue.
But Eddie keeps going, chasing his own end as he guides you further along his cock. He isn’t able to hold off much longer, as the constant fluttering of your walls becomes his undoing. He spills inside you with a deep grunt as you cling onto his biceps.
The male soon collapses into you, his chest heaving as he captures your lips together. You sigh into his mouth as he holds you tightly against him, breathing the air back into your lungs. You stay like that for a moment, locked together in the most intimate way possible.
Eddie carefully ushers your hips upward, coaxing you back onto the mattress. You whimper softly, already missing the feeling of him inside you. His cum has begun to drip onto the bed sheets as he kneels before you, spreading your legs so he can admire the mess he’s made.
Eddie’s eyes are still wide with lust as he takes in the sight of you, dipping his fingers between your thighs to gather some of his cum on the digits. He slowly eases them back inside your entrance in an attempt to keep anything else from spilling out. You whine his name, reaching out for him as he gently removes his fingers from your center.
The male presses multiple kisses to your shaky thighs before he crawls his way back up your body. Just as he goes to wipe his fingers on his sheets you grab onto his wrist, slipping the digits past your lips.
“Jesus Christ, sweetheart,” he mumbles, feigning hurt when you playfully nibble on his fingers. He starts to pull away, ignoring your pout as he gets off up off the bed. You’re about to protest but he hushes you with a kiss. “I’ll be right back.”
Eddie quickly fixes his boxers before he slips out of his bedroom, returning moments later with a damp washcloth. He’s back between your legs, gently cleaning up the dried arousal on your thighs. He takes his time, making sure every inch of your skin is clean before he tosses the dirty rag in his overflowing laundry basket.
Eddie helps you into a sitting position as he cups your cheek, thumb brushing over your lower lip. He smiles fondly at you, dimple indenting his cheek as a familiar look flashes through his eyes. The one you had noticed the week prior when you were draped across his chest in your bedroom. A look he seems to give you almost every time you’re together now.
You still aren’t sure what exactly it means. All you do know is that you want to see more of it.
Eddie tries to hide it as he presses a kiss to your nose, chuckling as you scrunch it beneath his lips. “You hungry? I’m not the best cook, but I can definitely whip you up a nice omelet?”
You beam at him, nodding your head as he gets up to rummage through his dresser drawers. He eventually finds a pair of shorts for you to wear, handing you the garment as he pulls on a pair of sweatpants. You glance down at the ground, attempting to look for your discarded panties, only to come up short.
“Eddie? Have you seen my panties?” You sigh, beginning to look through the clothes scattered across the floor. Hearing him chuckle you glance up, a small smirk stretching across his lips. It’s then that you notice the black lacy fabric clutched in his fist.
“These are mine now, sweetheart,” he winks, tucking them into his bedside table.
You feel a little flustered as you pull the shorts up over your legs, playfully swatting his chest as you stand. Eddie just laughs, pulling you into arms and kissing you again. He eagerly threads your fingers together, leading you out of the room.
However, once he begins to guide you through the trailer— there's only one thing on your mind.
Scotty has got to go.
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a-b-riddle · 9 hours
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You're not her...
I've been seeing a good bit of fics where the reader is left for another woman and people around them are encouraging it. While I do love a good angst, I would simply pass away. Your girl, Riddle, is weak.
Especially if it's my baby boy Simon.... I can't. I love the idea, but as someone who is an absolute crybaby, I wouldn't survive being reader...
So what if that happened to nurse reader's partner left them for a fellow recruit and when everyone starts being like "good for him", the 141 isn't having any of it?
The others on base seemed honestly happy that your heart had absolutely been broken. I mean, you weren't exactly around him as much as she was. You couldn't see the undeniable chemistry there was. You had tried to put on a brave face. But when John had come in for some ointment for a burn and you were falling apart, he gathered up his boys.
Something needed to be done. A point to prove not just to you or your ex or that woman who had chosen to pursue a very much taken man, but to the hold damn unit. Your ex didn't leave you because there was someone else. He left you because he didn't deserve you in the first place.
In hand to hand, Johnny doesn't hold back. Not only does your ex absolutely get his ass handed to him on the mat over and over again, but does it in front of his new girl and everyone else. How embarrassing. Doesn't exactly help that Kyle is on the sidelines talking so much shit that she begins to get the ick. I mean, could he not honestly win one match? Wonder what that says about a man who can't even hold his own? It even gets cringier when your ex tries to place the blame on the drills from yesterday with a certain Ghost.
Simon is already hard as a lieutenant. But add in the factor that the recruit he currently has running drills is the same recruit who hurt his favorite little nurse? The boy would be lucky to crawl out of there. The second an exercise or drill is not made to absolute perfection, Simon has him running it all over again. It almost
John is already starting the transfer papers the first time he catches your eyes the least bit misty. You don't have to see that rubbish and since the prick and slag couldn't have the decency to wait until he had broken up with you properly instead of telling you that even though he was with you, he had fallen for another woman, then they'll be sent to completely different units. John lists the reason for transfer as a liability. If they were so proud of their "love" before, let them keep that same energy.
And Kyle.... Sweet shit talkin' Kyle. Who plants seeds around the entire base. Nowhere are these two lovebird safe from judgment. All of the female recruits have ostracized their fellow female soldier while receiving lewd looks and calls from the males. I mean if she was easy enough to fuck a taken man, then she must be an easy lay. And here comes Kyle, telling your ex 'man-to-man' about seeing his girl with other officers. Kyle is the most gentle when it comes to the 141. But the motherfucker knows a thing or two about psychological warfare.
After your ex and the girl are suddenly, very mysteriously sent elsewhere, everyone starts flocking to you. Offering reassurances on what a bullet you dodged. How, from what they heard, they had broken up shortly after being relocated to separate bases. The boys see your confidence creep back in. Your smile is a little brighter. A little more pep in your step.
You wouldn't tell anyone how your ex had e-mailed you. Complaining about the new base. Explaining how he had ended things and just wanted you back. How he regretted ever letting her get to him, as if she were the only one at fault for kindling the relationship.
It also didn't help that a certain member of the 141 had come by your station, wondering if you wanted to grab a drink when you were off of your shift.
374 notes · View notes
sarahscribbles · 3 days
Note
First of all, I love you 💜
Second of all, I have a drabble idea!
Loki and reader have been in a romantic relationship for a bit and everything’s been pretty vanilla so far. How would Loki react to reader telling him that she’d like to explore more kink in the bedroom? Specifically that she wants him to be in control?
Can’t wait to see what you do with it, if it inspires of course 😘
I'm rereading this after just finishing the fic and realising that it doesn't touch on the reader wanting Loki to take control. I'm sorry! But I hope this is enjoyable nonetheless!
𝐕𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐚 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐇𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐲𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐛
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𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝐈𝐭'𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐬𝐢𝐱 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐢𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐡𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞, 𝐬𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐝𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐥 𝐋𝐨𝐤𝐢 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐝 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐲
𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐋𝐨𝐤𝐢 𝐱 𝐟!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫
𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: 𝐒𝐦𝐮𝐭 & 𝐟𝐥𝐮𝐟𝐟
𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 𝟓.𝟑𝐤
𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐬: 𝐒𝐨𝐟𝐭 𝐃𝐨𝐦!𝐋𝐨𝐤𝐢, 𝐩𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐬𝐞 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐤, 𝐞𝐝𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐨𝐫𝐠𝐚𝐬𝐦 𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐲, 𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐟𝐨𝐥𝐝, 𝐛𝐨𝐧𝐝𝐚𝐠𝐞
𝐋𝐨𝐤𝐢 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭
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“Six months, three weeks, and four and a half days. And counting,” you breathe out so softly that you don’t think Loki hears you. 
He’s tangled around you tightly in a warm cocoon of cream sheets, as he has been for the past few hours. You had other plans for this afternoon, but when Loki coaxed you back beneath the blankets with those big green eyes and award winning pout, those plans suddenly became very unimportant.
He’s good at that, you’ve come to notice, but you’re equally as good at knowing when to push and when to bend. An unfolding crisis somewhere deep in South America? He’s on his own. A Sunday afternoon of grabbing a coffee and wandering around your favourite second hand book shops? That can wait. 
For Loki, nearly anything can wait. 
The heat of your lovers body is seeping pleasantly into your own, as is his endless affection. That head of beautiful black curls is dipped beneath your jaw, errant strands brushing lightly over your exposed skin, and the low, quiet sounds of content that have flowed from him in an unbroken stream have only placed more of your heart in his capable hands. 
It’s difficult to focus on anything but the warm, heavy weight of Loki on top of you. He’s safe and solid and as familiar to you as the beat of your own heart. His hand has been gripping one of yours for as long as his cock has been hard and brushing against your stomach, desperate to take you, but not without first fulfilling his promise to worship you.
Your beautiful, benevolent god.
You take a shaky breath in, preparing to try and speak again, but the words get lost in transit between your brain and mouth when Loki’s warm lips latch onto the sensitive skin below your jaw. It pulls a ragged moan from deep in your chest, and makes your fingernails curl into the soft skin of his shoulders. You have no idea how many bruises now cover your neck and collarbone, but you know that it’s not enough. 
You want everyone who looks at you to know that you belong to Loki body, mind, and soul. 
“I hadn’t realised you had been keeping count, dove,” Loki replies, running his tongue soothingly over the area he’s just marked. Already, you can feel the first petals of a bruise begin to unfurl beneath your skin, and it makes you thrum with need. 
There’s an undeniable smile in his voice, which you mirror happily against him. His skin is warm and flushed when you press a chaste kiss to his temple, and you swear you hear him purr when you tangle a hand in his hair to lightly scratch his scalp.
“Of course I have. I’m calling it my longest spell of unbroken happiness,” you reply through a grin, unable to stop your hand running down his naked back to squeeze his ass. 
His hair tickles your collarbone when he lifts his head. Loki says nothing as his eyes find yours, but you watch - almost transfixed - at how they sparkle above you. He’s looked at you like this countless times before, yet butterflies still erupt joyously in the depths of your stomach.
It’s a feeling of joy that mingles with a quiet sadness that he’s so unused to being loved. He’s not familiar with being loved on and adored and treated like the most important thing in the universe - something that you fully intend to change. You’ll love him for as long as he’ll have you; you’ll love the good, the bad, and everything in between.
You’ll love him exactly as he is. 
You notice the faint tinge of pink that creeps beneath his cheeks even in the golden half light of your bedroom. It’s endearing, really; this stoic and aloof god blushing because of a few soft words. 
Because of you. 
“Darling thing,” Loki whispers eventually, and presses his lips gently against yours. 
His mouth is warm and soft, but it’s still insistent and you yield easily to his touch. He’s almost flush against you - so much so that you can feel the steady thump of his heart in his chest - but you still need him closer. You pull your hand reluctantly from his to twist it greedily into his raven curls, clamping him firmly to your lips like it’s the last kiss you’ll ever share. Before long, you feel the warm press of his palm against your cheek and the silken softness of his thumb on your chin, gently pressing down so he can kiss you deeper. 
This is what heaven is, you imagine; lying beneath the man you love more than life itself while he worships you so ardently. He looks at you like you hung the moon and if your sands of time ran out tonight, you would greet death happily.
You whine weakly when Loki’s lips leave yours, but it melts to a moan when those same lips find your jaw once more. His hand stays curled around your cheek for leverage as his lips press to your skin again and again, and you can’t help but to gasp at the dull drag of his teeth as he continues lower. 
Loki begins a lazy trail of wet kisses along your collarbone and between the valley of your breasts, but ignores how your nipples harden and beg for his attention.
“Lovely, lovely thing,” he murmurs quietly against your stomach, sliding his hands to your hips to hold them firmly in place when they lift upwards in search of more. 
“Bastard,” you say airily.
Loki silences you easily with a slow drag of his tongue from your navel to the crease of your right hip, something you know he’s chosen to do intentionally. Your cunt aches madly for him, for his fingers, his tongue, his cock - whatever he’ll give you. You only want him. 
You’ll only ever want him. 
He starts to suck bruises into your inner thigh so attentively that you swear you could cum from that alone. His hands are still locked firmly around your hips to keep you pinned to the bed and, no matter how much you squirm, there’s no way to escape his vice like grip. 
It’s an intoxicating thought - having Loki be in control - and a long held fantasy that you know he shares. It’s one you’ve both tiptoed around for the past few months, one you’ve spoken about only the other night, and one you no longer think you can ignore. 
“Wait,” you say softly, quickly, when two warm hands begin to press your thighs further apart.
Those same hands are off you in an instant and you try not to protest at the sudden loss of their familiar, comforting warmth. 
“Alright?” Loki asks, that smooth, deep voice laced with concern and apprehension. 
Quickly, you cup his cheeks in your hands and trace your thumbs soothingly over his flushed skin. “I’m fine.” You promise with a small smile. “I was only thinking about something.” 
The worry etched in his face slowly melts away as he studies you, and he eventually raises one elegant eyebrow in question. “Oh? Do continue, dove,” he replies, turning his face to place a kiss to the palm of your hand. 
Your skin tingles pleasantly in the wake of his touch, as though your soul recognises its mate from the briefest of caresses. “I was thinking that I’d like to try something different, like…like what we talked about the other night,” you say quietly, feeling your cheeks begin to burn. 
Loki is silent for only a moment, but you watch his eyes gradually light up with desire and sparkle with excitement. Against your stomach, you feel his cock twitch. “Are you sure?” he asks intently, curling his fingers around your wrist. 
You nod quickly, already feeling the first twists of anticipation deep in your stomach. “Yes. I trust you.” 
Something in his eyes softens and he leans in to kiss you slow and gentle, like nothing in the world matters to him more than tasting you. “I do so love you, my darling girl,” he murmurs, nudging the tip of his nose against yours. “You remember the system we discussed, yes?”
You nod again. “Red for stop, yellow for slow down, green for ok,” you repeat back, already thrumming with excitement. 
It’s something you’ve wanted from the very first time Loki took you to bed. You trust him more than you’ve ever trusted anyone. You trust him to be careful and considerate. You trust him deeply enough to submit to him. 
At hearing you repeat his system, Loki smiles widely at you. “Good girl,” he says, and kisses the tip of your nose. 
You wriggle with anticipation beneath him. Loki sits back on his knees and reaches to take both of your wrists in his grip. He holds them loosely and slowly strokes your skin with the pads of his thumbs.
“This may feel a little odd at first,” he says before a gradual soft tingle courses through both your arms.
It feels like a warm summer rain shower, like the first pleasant lick of a fire after a day in the cold, and then you watch as your wrists are encased in shimmering ropes of green. It’s bewitching to watch Loki’s magic at work. So often, you’ve seen it in the throes of battle and watched how easily he can bring an enemy to their knees, how ruthless he is in wielding magic as weapon of torture when the lives of his friends are at risk. You’ve seen first hand how it can destruct and destroy.
To then watch as he creates something so beautiful…
Gently, Loki then folds your arms back until they touch the headboard and another pleasant surge of warmth locks them in place. You tug experimentally at your bindings, but your arms don’t move. You’re fully restrained to the bed.
And fully at Loki’s mercy. 
He drinks you in as you lie bound before him. There’s a new intensity to his gaze that makes you ache for his touch and burn for his kiss. Sparkling green eyes run slowly over the length of your naked body - like a predator eyeing its prey - and you have to swallow a moan when the tip of his tongue darts out to lick his lips. 
“Colour?” Loki asks softly, ghosting his fingertips along the outside of your thigh. 
“Green,” you answer immediately. 
He gives you a devastating wink. “That’s my girl.”
The pride in his voice is so palpable it almost makes you weep with love for him. The list of things you’d do to make him proud, to be his good girl, is endless - something you have no doubt that he knows. 
Nervously, you wait for what’s to come next, but Loki seems in no rush to move things along. Your arms flex impatiently against the headboard, making the wood creak quietly, and it pulls a smirk across Loki’s handsome face. 
“You aren’t going anywhere, dove, not until I say so.” His voice rolls over you like liquid silk. 
He sounds menacing tonight, like you’re his captured prisoner, but your love for him is burning through your blood. Despite the restraints binding you securely in place, you know that you’re safe. Loki would sooner see the world burn than let any harm come to you - it’s one thing you’ve never been surer of. 
“You’re making me nervous just staring at me,” you say through a laugh. 
Loki begins to slowly trace the tip of a single finger along the inside of your thigh, and it’s enough to make a trail of goosebumps erupt in its wake. His touch is soft and sweet, yet somehow still menacing enough to make your heart rapidly pick up speed. 
“Good,” Loki purrs. “I want you to be nervous. I want that brilliant mind to run wild with the possibilities of what I might do to you next.” 
His finger stops just shy of where you’re throbbing for him and he throws you a wicked smile. It’s dazzling and seductive and pulls a near guttural groan from deep in your chest. Hot arousal is searing through your veins and blazing ferociously through your core. The man before you is sin and salvation, he’s thrill and torment, and you aren’t sure you’re going to survive this night. 
Before you can reply, Loki is silently leaning forward to press a gentle kiss to your cheek. “We’ll take this slow, dove. Colour?” he murmurs against your flushed skin. 
You breathe in shakily because the raw need to have this man has all but robbed you of the ability to speak. “Gr…green.” 
Loki lifts his head to catch your lips in a deep, chaste kiss. “I love you, my darling.”
You’ve lost count of how many times he’s said those three words in the past six months, but each time you hear them a golden glow of warmth expands deep in your stomach. This beautiful, wonderful man loves you, an unremarkable little mortal. 
He sits back on his knees again and you take a moment to appreciate the beauty of his body. The defined chest, the tight stomach, and those firm thighs that are slightly parted atop the bed.
He’s also achingly hard. 
You drink him in hungrily until your attention is pulled to his hand where that same shimmer of emerald green is dancing softly in his palm. When it fades away to nothing, and you take a few seconds to study the scrap of black silk that remains in its place, you realise that Loki is holding a blindfold between his fingers. 
It sends a shiver down your spine. 
“I’m going to place this over your eyes. Alright?” he asks, intently studying your face. You nod your consent, but Loki doesn’t move. “I need you to say it, dove.”
His voice is so gentle that it almost makes you weep. How did you get so lucky as to call this man yours?
“It’s alright,” you assure him quickly. 
Loki moves closer and leans forward to raise your head off the pillow. With care, he slips the blindfold over your head and, in only a matter of seconds, your entire world goes black. You stiffen at the sudden darkness, but quickly feel Loki’s lips press firmly to your forehead. 
“I’m right here,” he soothes you, cradling your head to his lips in one large hand. “Tell me your colour.”
Your answer doesn’t come immediately. You hate the dark - always have - but you can feel the heat from Loki’s body as he holds you close, you can hear his steady breathing and the beat of his heart in his chest. You haven’t been cast adrift into some endless void - you’re in your bed and safe in your lovers arms. You’re ok. 
“Green,” you tell him honestly. 
Loki places one last kiss to your forehead. “Good girl.”
He lays your head back on the pillow and you hear him sit back on the bed. There’s a sudden coldness from the absence of his body, but then his hand is curling around your hip in silent reassurance that he’s still right there. 
“Oh, my darling girl, you do look so beautiful like this,” Loki says, lightly running his thumb back and forth over your hip bone. “So beautiful and all mine.”
Mine. 
His.
It’s all you ever want to be, it’s all you have been since the very first time he kissed you. Your heart belongs to Loki, and you know now that it will belong to Loki until it beats its last. 
“Kiss me. Please,” you half whine, suddenly overcome with the need to have his mouth on yours. 
You hear his quiet laughter and feel the soft tickle of his hair over your breasts as he leans back in. “How could I possibly deny you that, my darling.” 
Seconds later his warm mouth is on yours. He kisses you deeply, so deeply that you try to wrap your arms around him before you remember. Loki grins against your lips and you squeal into his mouth when a finger and thumb then flick your nipple. 
“You’re such a fucking tease,” you goad him breathlessly when his lips leave yours. 
“And you’ll take every second of it,” he replies easily, and you can hear the smirk that’s spread wide across his face. 
You feel his lips at your neck again as he continues adding to his patchwork of bruises, and each time he sucks at your skin, you become increasingly aware of the searing need burning between your thighs.
As best you can, you turn your head to give him more access and he happily obliges. “Mine,” he says firmly before running his tongue along the column of your throat.
You moan shamelessly beneath him, arching off the bed and locking your legs tightly around his hips. “Yours,” you reply easily, digging your heels into his perfect ass. 
“Good girl,” Loki purrs, beginning to move further down your chest. “Very good girl.”
His lips are featherlight as they explore your skin, and the gentle caress of his hair along your abdomen keeps you grounded in the darkness. It’s all too easy to get lost in the haze of his worship, to fully relax into the soft sheets while he lavishes you with attention. You’re so blissfully drunk on this man and the love that he drowns you in…
“Fuck!” you yelp when Loki decides to sink his teeth into an erect nipple and pinch the other between his thumb and forefinger. 
There’s a quiet roll of amused laughter, and then his warm tongue darts out to soothe while the pad of a thumb runs softly over the other. “Sorry, my darling. I couldn’t resist.” 
You wish more than anything that you could see his face, especially when he repeats the previous action over and over. You want to watch his beautiful face and sinful tongue, you want to run your hands over him and twist them in his hair, but no matter how much you tug at the restraints, your hands remain frustratingly locked to the headboard. 
“Ah, ah, darling. That isn’t going to help you at all tonight,” Loki teases, and you feel him stretch up to kiss you again. 
You allow it, but still whine desperately into his mouth. “Please. I need to touch you, Loki. Please.”
He only kisses the tip of your nose. “Not yet. Colour?”
You huff out a sigh, but eventually mumble, “green.” 
“Good girl.”
There’s a quiet rustle of sheets as Loki sits back on the bed, but the soft touch that you’re anticipating doesn’t come. You’re aching for the caress of his hands or the teasing brush of his lips, so much so that you can almost feel their phantom touch if you concentrate hard enough. It’s easier in the darkness the blindfold provides - the cool silk acts like a film screen for all the filthy scenes your mind plays on a loop, each one more depraved than the last. Loki, you’re coming to learn, has a deliciously filthy mind, and he’s all too content to leave you thrumming and squirming at the endless possibilities of what he’s going to do next. 
His silence continues, making you strain to catch even the quiet sound of his breathing. You can’t and it makes your heart begin to race unpleasantly. 
“Loki?” you call out, hearing the hitch in your voice. 
Instantly, a large, warm hand is settling over your knee. “I’m here. Forgive me, I lost myself admiring the beauty before me,” he murmurs, running his thumb soothingly along the side of your knee. 
“Oh, fuck off,” you say through a smile. You can’t see him, but you know he’s gazing at you with those soft eyes that never fail to make you blush. 
“I don’t believe you truly want that,” he replies quickly, a smile evident in his own voice. His palm slides easily round to your inner thigh and you feel the other mirror it. Slowly, he pushes your thighs apart on the bed, opening you fully to him. “All for me, dove?” he purrs, shifting on the mattress so you feel it dip beneath you.
The sound of his voice - deep and dripping with desire - has you slick and aching for him. Your need for him is so fervent that your hips roll off the bed in a desperate search for him, but the only thing you hear is Loki’s quiet, amused laughter. He runs his fingertips teasingly along the inside of one thigh, pulling a groan from deep in your chest and lighting a blazing fire in your blood with just a simple touch. 
Such is the power of a gods touch. 
You whine loudly and yank at the magical bonds of Loki’s restraints. They haven’t budged an inch all night, yet you still pull at them ceaselessly. You desperately want to see your lovers face, to see the intent look in his eyes that promises pleasure you can only dream of, but Loki doesn’t move, doesn’t make any sign that he’s ready to free you just yet.
“Please,” you whimper pleadingly, feeling so wildly aroused that the simple brush of his fingertip could send you hurtling over the edge. 
“Patience,” Loki purrs smoothly. 
A string of curses slips swiftly from your lips in tandem with your hips bucking off the bed in frustration, but Loki’s warm hands move quickly to pin them back against the mattress. 
“I believe a gag may be in order next time, dove,” he says. His voice is teasing, but there’s a quiet undercurrent of warning running beneath that he will gag you.
It sends a fresh rush of heat straight to your aching cunt. 
“Fuck. Do you promise?” you breathe out before you can stop yourself, already close to dizzy at the idea of Loki gagging you. 
This time, Loki’s laughter is wholly unrestrained. “I love you, my darling little minx. You have my word that there will be many nights of exploration after this one.”
His hands are still curled around your knees, and the next thing you feel are his lips pressing to your inner thigh. He works slowly, methodically, kissing and sucking and nibbling your sensitive skin until your eyes roll back in the darkness. It’s something he’s done countless times before, but the addition of the blindfold only amplifies the sensation. 
In the darkness, you focus on the warmth of his lips and the wetness of his tongue as they move along your thigh. You feel the tickling caress of his hair and the way his fingers push your thigh closer to his lips. You feel his love for you in every sweet and teasing nip of his teeth. 
This man loves you, and you couldn’t ask the stars for anything more. 
His lips continue a warm path along your thigh, making you tingle beneath each touch. He takes his time sucking bruise after bruise into your willing flesh, ensuring that you’ll be covered in his marks tomorrow. His touch is intoxicating and you can’t help but to part your thighs wider as he edges closer to your aching cunt. He’s so close that you brace for the first electrifying feel of his warm, sinful tongue. 
But it’s a touch that doesn’t come.
Instead, you feel his lips press to your other thigh to begin the same slow, torturous ascent.
“Loki, for fuck sake!” you groan with another frustrated buck of your hips, but it’s so perfectly Loki that a laugh is soon to follow. 
You feel him grin against your thigh. “Perhaps a lesson on patience is needed tonight, yes?” he replies smoothly and nips gently at your skin. 
Loki doesn’t wait for your answer and, purposefully slowly, works his way along your thigh. This time, though, you refuse to give him the satisfaction of your impatience. You moan his name shamelessly and sigh blissfully at each warm press of his lips. As expected, it doesn't take him long to finish marking you. 
“You’re going to be the end of me, you little vixen,” Loki teases, though now his voice is heavy with lust and raspy with need. 
Although you can’t see him, you know exactly how he looks on the bed before you. You know that his usually immaculate curls are now falling haphazardly across flushed cheeks, and that his eyes are glittering with desire. You know his cock is stiff and aching to be inside you, only made bearable by swift, short strokes while he’s ravished you. 
You don’t need to see him to know that he’s craving you just as desperately. 
“I have no idea what you mean,” you reply innocently. “You said - oh, fuck!”
An affectionate taunt had been taking easy shape on your tongue, but the words fall into the air when Loki finally presses his sinful tongue to your cunt and licks a slow, firm line all the way to your clit. It pulls your back off the bed and makes the headboard groan loudly with how forcefully you yank against your restraints. You need more. 
“Yes, dove?” Loki asks, an unmistakable smugness dripping from two words.
You swiftly shake your head against the pillows. “Not important. Do that again. Please!”
Every inch of you is crying out for him, burning for him, and you don’t think you can stand another second without some part of his body inside yours. You need him.
“But of course,” Loki murmurs.
You don’t have time to entertain how easily he obliges you because he buries his tongue back in your cunt, licking and sucking and teasing until that coil of arousal begins to wind tighter and tighter in your core. 
The blindfold is still snugly around your eyes, but you can perfectly picture your lover in your minds eye as his head bobs between your thighs. You want to pull him closer as your climax builds, or have the simple, reassuring feel of him beneath your fingertips, but all they caress is the night air of your room. 
Between your thighs, Loki continues to expertly propel you towards release, and the sounds of his contented moans only adds fuel to the flame. His name slips easily from your lips in a breathless chant as your orgasm crests and, quickly, your entire body tenses in preparation, read to fall through the freefall…
But then Loki’s tongue is gone. 
You flail wildly on the bed and your hips buck desperately in a fruitless search for Loki’s mouth. “Loki, what the fuck!” you whine. 
“Shhhh,” he soothes you quickly, laying a warm hand across your thigh and stroking your skin with his thumb. “Tell me your colour, darling.”
Despite the absolute frustration he left bubbling in his wake, you can’t deny that you enjoyed it. “Still green,” you answer after only a moment of hesitation.
The bed frame creaks beneath you and then you feel the warm press of Loki’s lips on your forehead. “Good girl,” he whispers, then moves to position himself back between your legs. “Then consider this your lesson in patience.”
His mouth returns to your cunt and this time he takes his time building you back up. You want to roll your hips against his tongue in encouragement, but two hands pin them firmly to the bed, forcing you to endure whatever he decides to give you. 
Loki does everything he knows you love - every pattern and every rhythm - and when he then slips two fingers inside you, you feel the beginnings of what promises to be a cataclysmic release.
“Loki…,” you whine out a warning, balling your hands into fists so tight that your nails pierce your skin. 
Just as you’re about to tumble over Loki stops again, ensuring that your orgasm slips from your desperate fingertips. A frustrated sob catches in your throat, but Loki soothes and praises you through it, peppering your face in sweet kisses and cradling your cheek in his hand. 
“You’re sick for making me enjoy this,” you half laugh while he continues holding you. 
He laughs freely and deeply and presses yet another kiss to your temple. “I’m terrible, I know. Only twice more, my darling, I promise,” he murmurs softly in your ear. 
Easily, you allow him. 
By the fourth time, your thighs are shaking and a single tear of frustration leaks down your cheek from behind the blindfold. 
“Loki…please,” you beg him softly as the pad of his thumb gently brushes it away.
Little more than a second later, the familiar warm shimmer of his seidr trickles through your body, effortlessly dissolving the silk of your blindfold and the dancing green glimmer of your restraints. You lower your arms gratefully and blink a few times until Loki’s handsome face comes into full focus before you.
“There she is,” he says quietly, taking both of your wrists in one large hand to bring them to his lips. He runs the other gently over your skin until the dull ache that had settled into your bones fades away to nothing. “I am so very proud of you, my darling girl. You were magnificent,” he continues, swiftly dipping his head down to kiss you deeply. 
You pull your hands from his to greedily wrap them around him, taking in every inch of him beneath your roaming fingertips as though you had never touched him before. 
“Please,” you repeat, twisting a hand into his hair as he rests his forehead against yours.
He captures your lips in another quick kiss. “No more begging, dove. I am yours.”
Loki holds your gaze as he lines himself up and finally, finally, inches inside you. You’re more than ready for him, and he groans deeply at the feel of your cunt clenching around him. 
“Perfect,” he grunts. “Fucking perfect.” 
He shudders as he bottoms out and you see how his fingers dig into the mattress at your side. He’s as pent up as you are - perhaps even more - and you know that neither of you are going to last long after the last hour. 
Brazenly, you run your hands along his muscled back to squeeze his ass, biting back a smirk at the look that crosses his face. It’s the final straw that breaks him, and finally his hips begin to roll against yours. 
“Mine,” he rasps in your ear, arching his back to roll into you in long, deep strokes that have you moaning his name like a prayer. 
“Yours,” you breathe back, clutching him to you like a life raft as your orgasm begins to crest. 
All it takes is a few more thrusts of his cock to send you soaring off the edge. You grasp at him wildly and cry out his name so loudly that it rings off the walls. Your climax consumes you, makes the edges of your vision dance white with stars, and it drags Loki under only seconds later. 
Your name is an unbroken melody on his lips, a prayer of adoration to the goddess who granted him his salvation. Through half lidded eyes you watch how he loses himself to his release - jaw slack, eyes closed. The sight of him consumed to pleasure because of you is enough to have a second wave of your own pull you deeply beneath its surf. 
Vaguely, you feel Loki bury his face in your neck and you stretch a limp arm over his shoulder to hold him to you. He’s panting hard and you place a lazy kiss to his temple as you both bask in the golden afterglow of love. 
You smile as Loki nuzzles in closer and traces nonsensical shapes along his back. By all accounts you should be exhausted, but you’ve never felt so invigorated and hungry for the man lying in your arms. 
A turn of your head prompts Loki to lift his and glittering green eyes lock lovingly with yours. 
You smirk up at the man who you fall more in love with every single day. “Again?”
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the girl next door 17
Warnings: this fic will include elements, some dark, such as age gap, manipulation, chronic illness, noncon/dubcon, coercion, and other untagged triggers. Please take this into account before proceeding. It is up to curate your online consumption safely.
Summary: A new neighbour moves in and upends your already disarrayed life.
Author’s Note: Please feel free to leave some feedback, reblog, and jump into my asks. I’m always happy to discuss with you and riff on idea. As always, you are cherished and adored! Stay safe, be kind, and treat yourself.
This lewk but silverfox
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“You’re leaving me?” Your mom whines. 
“Sorry, Holly, they need to keep you overnight for observation,” Steve crosses his arms. 
“But... you could stay?” 
“What about her?” He asks, nodding over his shoulder as you sit on the bench against the wall, head down as you grip the boxes of pills. You haven’t said much since she woke up, you just stayed out of her way. She only wanted to talk to him anyhow. 
“She can drive,” she pouts. 
“I drove her here and I’m sorry, but I can’t stay. I have stuff to do. We’ve been here all day and I didn’t exactly plan for it,” he shrugs, “you got my number, okay?” 
“Wha-- I’m sick, how can you just abandon me?” 
“Now, Holly,” he firms his voice and drops his arms, hands on her bed rail, “don’t be dramatic. No one’s abandoning you. There’s nowhere for either of us to sleep and you need rest if you’re going to come home. Look at it like this, I’m taking care of your daughter while you’re here. Making sure everything’s ready for you.” 
“Hmph,” she grunts, “I... I’m sorry. I’m scared, Steve,” she sniffs though even from where you sit, you can tell her eyes are dry, “I’m going to miss you,” she touches his hand and rubs it, “these last few days have been... the best I’ve had in a long time.” 
“I know,” he lowers his voice, “but you gotta get better and... take better care of yourself. You want this to last, right?” 
“I.. I guess,” she concedes grimly, “can I... I get a kiss before you go?” 
He nods and leans in. He kisses her cheek, ignoring her pucker, then stands. He gives a yawn as your mom blinks up at him. She obviously expected more and you can’t tell if he even realises her disappointment. 
“Alright, sweetie, give your mom a hug, I can see you dwindling over there,” he beckons you over. 
You stand without a word and approach the bed. Your eyes meet your mom’s glare. You don’t hug. Ever. You can’t even remember the last time you did. Maybe when you were ten? You look down ashamed and spread your arms, embracing her quickly and daintily as she just lays there. 
“Bye mom, love you.” 
She pauses and swallows loudly, “love you too.” 
You spin back to Steve and slant your mouth. You know she’s only saying that because he’s right there. You cross the room as he bids his own farewell and you mom huffs and puffs mopily. 
As you come out in the hall, Steve walks beside you. You’re startled as he touches your lower back. Again. It must be a habit. 
“So, when we get home, are you going to try some of those pills?” He asks. 
“What?” You look down at the handful. “Oh, uh, maybe...” 
“The nurse said you should try. Even just for tonight. At least get some sleep while you can, you know?” 
“Yeah, er, I don’t know.” 
“Nothing wrong with accepting a little help. Especially when you need it.” 
“Mm, I guess,” you shrug, “I’ll think about it.” 
You carry on, following the halls and riding the elevator in silence. You chalk it up to fatigue on both ends. As you come out under the sky, the sun is setting. You follow Steve to his car and get in, resting the boxes in your lap as you rub your eyes. 
He turns the engine and backs out. He grips the wheel and sighs. The air is thick even as the AC blows. 
“Does your mom always talk to you like that?” He asks. 
You’re struck by the question. You know you can’t tell the truth. Even if you didn’t know your mom would lose it, it’s too embarrassing. Besides, you deserve it. You ruined her life. 
“She’s just out of it, I think,” you murmur. “Me too. I was worried.” 
“You’re a really good daughter,” he says, “a good person too. You know, you can tell me anything and I'll believe you. I’ll listen, sweetie.” 
You nod and chew your inner lip. He might believe you but he wouldn’t be able to change it. No one ever tried. Even when your aunt saw how your mother was, she only ran away. 
“Seems like you could use someone,” he steers smoothly behind another car, “what... I hope it’s okay for me to ask but where’s you dad?” 
Your heart drops. You shift and the boxes fall onto the floor. You bend forward to pick them up and suddenly, the car jerks and Steve’s pushing you back against the seat. You flatten yourself to it as your pulse pumps wildly. He’s at a complete stop as the car in front of him is only an inch away. 
“God-- guy didn’t even tap his breaks,” he snarls as he keeps his arms out, his hand on your chest, cupping you. 
“Uh,” you gulp and look down. 
He glances over and retracts his hand. He puts it back on the wheel and clears his throat, moving in his seat as he slowly leans on the gas. You won’t say anything. It was an accident and awkward enough. 
“I didn’t want you to hit your head,” he says. 
“It’s fine, thanks,” you carefully bend again and reach down to retrieve the pills. “Didn’t mean to drop these.” 
“No harm, no foul right,” he chuckles and pulls his hand from the wheel to rub his neck. “You can crash at my place if you want. Might be weird all alone in that house. Unsafe.” 
He bends his elbow against the armrest as he drives with one hand. You lean into the door and stare out the window. You really just want to go home and be alone. 
“It’s okay. I’m... an adult.” 
“Oh, I know, sweetie, I didn’t mean to treat you like a child. I know you’re not. Trust me, that’s clear,” he assures you. “I just thought... pretty girl like you home alone. Maybe I worry too much.” 
You didn’t think of it until he said something. You clutch the boxes tight and cross your feet together. You turn your head straight and watch the traffic ahead. 
“I don’t think... guy don’t...” you don’t know how to say it aloud. You’ve never had to admit what a loser you are, it’s just been obvious. Somehow, he seems to miss that. “It’s a safe neighbourhood.” 
“Sure, I guess you’re right,” he clicks his tongue. “Be weird being alone though, won’t it? You and your mom, you’re always together. Someone like me... I’ve been alone a while. Guess I’m used to it.” 
“Oh, yeah,” you agree flatly. 
“Sorry, that was... sadder than I meant,” he laughs at himself hollowly, “you know, I just never married. Always wanted to but did the military thing then the art thing and then I woke up and I was fifty. Then fifty-one and one and one...” he shakes his head as he slows down with the residential traffic, “if I can pass on any wisdom, sweetie, don’t let life run away from you. Don’t run away from it.” 
“Erm, thanks,” your tongue makes a gross noise as you swallow.  
“Just the wisdom of an old man,” he scoffs, “young girl like you, you got a lot waiting for ya.” 
You turn your head and hide your frown. You feel even worse with his empty promises. There’s nothing for you. You’re too stupid for college, you’re too useless for a job, and you’re just a shell of a person. There’s nothing in you worth a damn. 
“Sweetie, you okay?” He asks as he turns onto your street. 
“Tired,” you answer; it’s the truth, just not the whole truth. 
“Yeah, me too,” he yawns, “before you ditch me, how about you come have some dinner? You’re gonna need something in your stomach before you take those meds.” 
He pulls into his driveway and you peek over at him. Your stomach growls before you can say you’re not hungry. You flick your thumb on the elastic band around the boxes. You can’t be rude, what if he tells mom? 
“Alright,” you accept, “thank you.” 
“You’ve been through a lot, sweetie,” he reaches over to squeeze your shoulder, “you don’t have to keep being strong.” 
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Meet the Parents
Request: Hii🩷 can you maybe make like a fic where reader is matt’s girlfriend and friends with the triplets and after like a few months of dating Matt she meets their parents in Boston and she’s like nervous and stuff and they all try to calm her down and their parents and other brother end up loving her
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The triplets are going to visit Boston for a little bit and Matt invited his girlfriend of five months, the girl immediately accepting the invitation. The general idea of meeting the rest of Matt's family and seeing where he grew up was amazing at first, but now that they're about to leave, she has nothing but anxiety coursing through her.
"What if your parents totally hate me? What if they think I'm not good enough and you deserve much better?" Y/N rants off any question that comes to mind.
"They won't think that." Matt insists. "I've talked about you countless times and my mom already loves you."
"So your dad might hate me." Y/N says.
"He doesn't hate you either." Matt says. "Stop psyching yourself out, sweetheart. I know you're nervous, but it'll go great. I promise." He kisses her on the forehead.
"We're back!" They hear Nick yell out, the other two triplets having gotten an Uber to go pick up some food for the group, Matt needing to stay and pack.
"Come on." Matt grabs her hands, pulling her to her feet. He leads her out as she continues to wrack with nerves.
"I'm not gonna be able to sleep tonight. I could totally embarrass myself and they'll hate me forever." Y/N whines.
"Baby..." Matt tries.
"What are you talking about?" Chris frowns.
"Y/N's nervous about meeting mom and dad." Matt says. "Despite me assuring her that it'll all be okay."
"They've been looking forward to meeting you." Nick says. "Mom will probably be attached to your hip all day asking questions and gushing over you." He laughs.
"Yeah, they ask about you whenever Matt talks to them." Chris says.
"What about Justin? He could totally hate me. You're his little brother, it may not--"
"Justin will be fine." Chris promises.
"Long as you and Matt are happy, that'll probably be all they need to be happy." Nick says, his brothers nodding in agreement.
"It'll be okay." Matt promises, cupping his girlfriend's face. "And if you're too nervous, I'm right there the whole time. I promise." He pecks her on the lips.
"Can you guys save that for later so we're not throwing up during our meal?" Chris pleads.
"Shut up, Chris." Matt rolls his eyes.
---
They're at the airport in Boston, waiting on the boys' parents. Y/N barely got sleep and has been anxious the whole day, Matt doing his best to calm her nerves by making her focus on things other than meeting his family.
Matt grabs onto Y/N's hand, intertwining their fingers and gently squeezing.
"They'll love you." Matt assures.
"Hey, there they are." Chris points. "Oh, Justin came." He smiles.
Y/N stands back, watching with a soft smile as the boys reunite with their parents and older brother.
Her smile falters for a moment when the attention is turned to her and Matt quickly wraps his arm around her waist, gently squeezing her hip in reassurance.
"Mom, dad, Justin, this is Y/N." Matt introduces, a grin full of love directed to his girlfriend.
"Hi, sweetheart. It's so nice to meet you." Mary Lou immediately greets her with open arms, pulling the girl into a hug.
"Hi." Y/N softly replies, gently hugging the woman back.
"Nice to meet you, Y/N." Jimmy smiles, giving her a quick hug.
"Hey, nice to meet you." Justin gives her a small wave, Y/N returning it with her own wave.
"Nice to meet you guys, too." Y/N smiles.
"Oh, we've heard so much about you. I can't wait to learn more." Mary Lou smiles. "Come on, let's get you guys something to eat and get home."
"Sweet." Chris excitedly whispers at the idea of eating.
"Y/N, what food do you like? We can go out somewhere." Jimmy offers.
"Oh, uh... I-I'm okay with wherever." Y/N smiles.
"She loves Italian food the most." Nick speaks up.
"Ooh, perfect! There's a really good place we all enjoy, you can try it." Mary Lou grins.
"Can't wait." Y/N nervously smiles, reaching for Matt's hand.
"All right, let's go, boys." Mary Lou urges.
"See? Not so bad." Matt quietly says.
"It's only the first five minutes. I could still totally fuck up." Y/N insists.
"You won't. It'll be amazing, promise." Matt tells her, kissing her cheek.
After lunch, Y/N's anxiety had finally started to dwindle after spending time with the triplets' family and being able to converse with the three just as easily as she can with the boys.
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vbecker10 · 19 hours
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What Prank?
Laundry Day (Loki x female reader Y/N)
How Could This Not Fit?! (Loki x fem reader Y/N)
Loads of a Fun (Bucky x female reader Y/N)
Pairing: Bucky x female reader (Y/N)
Summary: You and Bucky plan a week's worth of pranks to get back at Sam for telling Bucky the toaster was voice activated. A few days in, several members of the team decide to join in on the pranks without even questioning who is behind it.
A/N: So in Laundry Day (linked above) I wrote an off hand little comment about how much laundry Bucky needed to do and it led to Loads of Fun (also linked above). In that one, I mentioned a joke Sam pulled on Bucky and based on a poll I did, people wanted Bucky to get back at him so here we are 💚
This is not the same Y/N from Laundry Day & How Could This Not Fit?!, this is a different one. Apparently a bunch of women in the Tower have the same name as you (haha sorry that's dumb but I wanted them both to be Y/N fics so here we are)
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Bucky's arm settles around your waist and he pulls you closer to him on the couch as you shut your laptop. "That's everything," you tell him with a triumphant smile.
"I really appreciate all of your help with this," he tells you and you turn to look at him. "I never would have even thought to do any of this myself."
"I'm happy to help. I hate when people mess with someone I like," you respond.
"Wait, you like me?" he asks jokingly.
You hit him lightly with a pillow, "I think I've made myself awkwardly clear about that."
He laughs and takes the pillow from you easily, "I'm just checking because I like you too." He moves his hand to the back of your neck and kisses you, when he pulls away he smirks and says, "You're an evil genius, you know that right?"
You giggle, "You have no idea."
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Day 1
You sit at your desk, watching the clock closely as you wait for Sam's call. Ten minutes after 8, he finally reaches out and you answer professionally, "Stark Industries Technical Support, this is Y/N, how can I help you this morning?"
"Hi Y/N, it's Sam Wilson. There's something wrong with my ID badge I think, or my entry panel maybe. I'm not sure but I can't get into my office," he tells you.
"Oh no, that's not good. I'm going to put you on hold for a few moments while I look into this for you," you tell him and he says okay. After refilling your bottle with water from the kitchen down the hall, you take him off hold. "Hi Sam, sorry that took so long. Computer is a bit slow this morning," you make up an excuse and he asks if you figured out what's wrong with his door. "Yes, looks like we need to run a quick update on your entry panel. Should be about five minutes or so," you lie easily.
"Okay, thanks," he says but you can hear the annoyance in his voice before he hangs up.
You go back to checking your emails and five minutes later, you unlock Sam's office with a smile. Your phone vibrates, alerting you to a new text from Bucky, he has gotten so much better at sending them in the last few days.
<Hi doll, sounds like your plan is going well. I can hear Sam cursing up a storm from my office.>
You laugh at the thought of Sam being that annoyed and send him a quick text back.
<I think it's working so far 😈 He should be calling again any second.>
As if on cue, your office phone rings. "Hi Y/N, it's me again," he says in a defeated tone. "I can't log into my computer."
"Well aren't you having the worst luck this morning," you tell him. You pretend to type loudly so he can hear it, "Looks like your password expired. I'll set you up with a new temporary one and then you should be good to go." He tells you thanks again and you wish him luck before hanging up.
Fifteen minutes later, your phone rings a third time. "Its Sam again," he says as soon as you answer. "There's something wrong with my computer now. I can't get my email to open and all my programs are freaking out."
"Oh no... I see what the issue is," you say dramatically and he sighs over the phone. "It looks like your computer needs to do a pretty massive update." He asks you how massive and you respond, "About an hour... maybe an hour and a half."
As soon as you and Sam hang up, Pepper calls him and he immediately knows he's in for a long day. "Did you finish the reports for the briefing this afternoon?" she asks.
"Not yet, I've been having a lot of really weird tech issues today," he explains. "IT is on it but it's going to take a while to get me up and running."
"That's unfortunate," she says but there is no sympathy in her voice. "I suggest you work through lunch if needed, those reports were supposed to be on my desk last night."
"I'll get them done," he promises then hangs up. With a loud groan, he drops his head heavily on his desk.
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Day 2
Sam complains to Steve and Bucky about all of his computer issues while on their way to his office. He opens the door and Bucky jokes, "Sounds like the tech gods were really pissed off at you, huh?"
"I guess, it really was the weirdest thing," Sam says shaking his head. Bucky and Steve each take a seat and Sam goes to sit behind his desk. As soon as he relaxes into his chair, the seat detaches from the base and he falls to the ground with a loud scream of surprise.
Sam gets up quickly from the floor as his friends come around to the other side of the desk. "Someone is messing with me," he declares over Bucky's laughter.
"Why would anyone do that?" he asks, trying to compose himself. "Not like you've ever pranked anyone around here and would deserve a little revenge."
"Not helpful Buck," Steve rolls his eyes. "Are you okay Sam?"
"Yea," he answers while he examines the chair. "Did you do this?"
"Me?" Bucky asks in response. "I can't even figure out how to use the toaster. How would I have broken into your office?"
Sam is obviously unconvinced and also on the right track. Last night after dinner, you unlocked Sam's office so Bucky could remove almost all of the screws from his chair. That wasn't the only prank you set in motion last night though. As per your plan, Bucky suggests they call maintenance for a new chair and get coffee while they wait.
Tony walks into the kitchen a few moments after the three of them and asks if they like the new coffee maker he just got. Sam pushes the button to make a medium size cup and turns to face him, "First time trying it out."
"Well be nice to it," Tony warns in a joking manner. "I had to lie to Pepper about how much the damn thing cost me but it's worth it for a perfect cup of-"
Tony's words are cut off my Sam swearing as the coffee begins to spill everywhere. The mug overflows and leaks all over the marble counter. Sam tries to press the off button to stop it but it continues to pour out.
"Don't hit it, just press it gently," Tony grumbles as he moves quickly towards his new favorite appliance.
"I am pressing it gently, it's not working," Sam says in a slightly panicked tone as the coffee spills onto the floor.
"How much coffee can that thing make?" Steve asks in shock as he backs up from the growing puddle.
Bucky shakes his head, his hand over his mouth to cover his laughter as he watches the scene unfold. He takes out his phone and sends you a text.
<Check out the security cameras in the kitchen. It worked perfectly>
Tony unplugs the uncooperative machine from the wall and looks angrily at Sam, "Do not touch this again."
"I barely touched it this time!" he counters as he moves away from the massive mess of spilled coffee. "I told them, someone is messing with me."
You reply back after pulling up the live feed.
<🤣🤣 Bonus points for Tony being so annoyed!>
"And how would this mystery person know you were going to use the coffee maker next?" Tony asks with his arms crossed.
"I have no idea," Sam sighs, rubbing his face.
"Just get back to work," he says, "And quit being so damn paranoid."
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Day 3
Your head rests against Bucky's chest, his arm holding you comfortably as you watch a movie in his room. Half way through the movie, Bucky's phone begins to vibrate on the coffee table. "Hey Sam, what's-" Bucky answers but you can hear Sam yelling faintly over him.
"Put it on speaker," you whisper and he looks at you confused. You smile and take the phone, showing him how to change the setting and he nods as the background noise becomes louder.
"I can barely hear you," Bucky says and you cover your mouth to keep quiet.
"I said, my apartment is going crazy!" Sam yells over the sound of the TV and other appliances.
"What are you talking about?" Bucky asks, his voice serious. He keeps his eyes on you and you try not to giggle.
"I don't know! I flipped the switch for the lights and the TV turned on full volume. I tried to turn it off but the remote doesn't work. The volume buttons control the air conditioner, the power button opens and closes my blinds, I even tried going in the menu but it turned on my freaking blender. How does that even happen?" he asks frantically.
"I have no idea what you want me to do," Bucky says and you shrug dramatically as if you don't know what is causing it either. "Sounds like your place is possessed," he adds. You giggle and he holds the phone away from himself to place a quick kiss on your cheek.
"I tried to call tech support but they are closed for the night," he explains. "Did you ever get the number for the woman in IT you know?"
"Who?" Bucky plays dumb.
He groans and you can hear the vacuum turn on, he must have tried another button on the reprogrammed remote. "The one you keep telling us is cute! Y/N, right? I talked to her the other day about my computer stuff," Sam says as the TV volume increases and decreases at random.
He blushes, he had forgotten he told Steve and Sam he wanted to talk to you weeks ago. "No, I chickened out of talking to her," he lies.
"Of course you freaking did!" Sam yells and you can practically hear him roll his eyes, "Screw this I'm gonna sleep in the common room tonight."
Bucky hangs up and tosses his phone back onto the table. You tap his shoulder with a smirk, "So... you think I'm cute, huh?"
He laughs, "Very." He kisses you and you lean into him as his arms wrap around you.
You curl up against him on the couch again then sit up suddenly. "What's wrong?" he asks when you get up.
You open your backpack and look over at him, "I brought my laptop... I can turn off the stuff in his room so if anyone checks, everything will be fine."
"Remind me never to get on your bad side," he laughs and you kiss him when you sit next to him again.
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Day 4
Sam finishes adjusting his suit as he walks into the training room with Clint, Bucky and Scott. Tony checks a few settings on his control panel while Thor and Loki finish up their sparing session.
When the door closes Loki chuckles and turns his attention from his brother to Sam. "I heard you had quite the night," the God of Mischief smirks.
"Seriously, even Loki knows?" Sam throws his hands on the air.
"I think the whole tower knows you think you someone is pulling weird pranks on you," Scott chimes in.
"I'm not paranoid," Sam says. "Someone here is out to get me."
"That sounds like something a paranoid person would say," Loki shrugs and Thor laughs loudly at his comment.
"I don't like agreeing with Reindeer Games but he has a point," Tony jokes, ignoring the side eye from Loki at his least favorite nickname.
"Fine, whatever," Sam gives up. "Can we just get this over with?"
"Yep," Tony agrees and motions for everyone to get back a bit so Sam can spread the wings on his new gear. He puts his goggles on and turns around, checking to see that everything is in place but his focus shifts when everyone beaks out into laughter.
"What now?" Sam asks, turning back to face the group.
"Nothing, I think we all just like the new look," Bucky says with a smile.
"What the hell?" Sam exclaimes when he catches sight of the back of his wings in the windows.
Bucky snaps a picture, thankful you showed him how to do that a few days ago, and sends it to you.
<I had no idea you were going to do this too! This is amazing!>
You open the picture of Sam's wings covered in googly eyes of every size and color, causing you to nearly spit out your water with laughter.
<I didn't do that... but I am a huge fan of whoever did it 🤣🤣🤣>
Sam looks angrily at Loki, "Why are you messing with me?" He pulls down his goggles and walks over to him.
Loki scoffs, unintimidated by the Falcon and says, "If I was 'messing with you' I would have done more then put paint on your eyewear."
He turns back towards the window quickly and sees two thick black rings of paint around his eyes. "Come on! What the hell guys?" he groans.
Bucky, Scott and Clint can barely keep themselves together long enough to deny they had anything to do with this new prank.
Thor almost looks offended and asks, "How come no one assumes it was me?"
Tony pats him on the back and says, "You're not exactly known for being stealthy." He crosses his arms but nods in agreement. "Alright, now that... that whole thing is out of our systems, let's see what the new wings can do," Tony suggests, bringing everyone back to their original reason for being there.
Sam agrees and everyone moves back a bit to watch him take off. Bucky let's a small smile slip when Sam tries to turn left to circle around the room but his suit doesn't respond correctly. He grows increasingly more confused and annoyed as he discovers his controls are reversed.
He lands after only a few minutes and Clint asks, "First time flying? That was rough to watch."
"Shut up," he answers, fiddling with the computer on his wrist as Tony walks over.
"I'll get this thing debugged and we can try again tomorrow, Tony tells him. He nods and leaves with a loud sigh. Bucky and Steve turn to leave as well but Bucky catches Clint and Scott nodding proudly to each other. He chuckles when he spots a googly eye stuck to Scott's shoe.
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Day 5
"I am so over this," Sam tells Steve and Bucky as the walk towards the kitchen. "When I find out who is doing all of this they better apologize like hell cause I'm furious," he threatens and Bucky practically bites his tongue to stay quiet.
His phone chimes in his pocket and says, "New text message to Director Nicholas Fury."
"Shut up," he says as he takes his phone out of his pocket.
It chimes again, "Texting, 'shut up'."
"No, no, no! Cancel, cancel," he says, frantically hitting buttons but none of them work to stop it.
"Text message sent," it alerts him with another chime and he rubs his face.
"What the heck was that?" Steve asks.
"I don't know... It's been doing that all day," he says. "I talked to Y/N and she said she is going to have a new phone sent up to me as soon as Stark approves it."
"Y/N, the woman Bucky likes-" Steve starts to ask with a smile but he's interrupted.
"New text message to Tony Stark," his phone says.
"I hate you," he tells the phone as he tries to turn it off.
The phones responds, "Texting, "I hate you'."
He groans and Bucky begins to lose the battle to hold back his laughter. "What is wrong with you?" Sam struggles with the device.
"Texting, 'What is wrong with you?'" it again repeats Sam.
"Stop talking to it," Steve suggests.
"Texting, 'Stop talking'," the phone adds and Steve cringes. "Text message sent."
"I'm gonna get fired," he says and slumps against the wall.
"Finding instructions on how to make fire," it says as if that is helpful.
His phone chimes to alert him to an incoming text message. "Oh good... it's Tony," he says sarcastically.
"Could be worse," Bucky says with a smile and Sam looks up at him skeptically.
His phone chimes again. "It's Fury," he says with a loud sigh.
Bucky laughs, "See, now it's worse." Steve smacks him in the shoulder and shakes his head disapprovingly but Bucky can see the smile on his face.
Later that night, most of the team is relaxing in the common room until Sam walks in angrily. He slams his laundry basket on the coffee table in front of Natasha, Clint and Wanda. Loki looks up from his book in the corner of the room and Bucky follows Steve in from the kitchen.
"Who did it?" Sam asks.
"Oh, what horrible prank where you the victim of this time?" Loki asks with a smirk as he gets up from his seat.
He pulls out his bedsheets which are all different shades of pink, "Which one of you did this? These were new."
Nat giggles and says, "I don't know but it is a really nice color."
Bucky takes out his phone and quickly finds your chat. You text him back, showing the picture of the pink sheets to your friends who joined you for dinner.
<Omg, they did not!? That's amazing 🤣🤣 I can't believe other people joined in like this>
Steve calmly says, "It might not have been on purpose. Someone probably forgot a red shirt or something in the machine."
"No, this is definitely on purpose," he argues with Steve. "I'm going to find out who is doing this."
He grabs the basket and leaves the room angrily. Bucky doesn't watch him leave, he's too focused on Wanda winking at Nat.
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Day 6
Sam sits at the far end of the large oval table in the conference room, fuming with his arms crossed.
Loki smiles wide as he takes a seat next to him. He leans close and asks, "What seems to be the trouble today?"
"I don't want to talk about it," Sam responds.
Loki doesn't give up and says, "I think you should share with the team, it might make you feel better. Besides, I'm sure we're all curious as to why you are so annoyed this morning."
Before he can reply, Fury walks into the briefing room. He slams the door shut, which gets everyone's attention at once. He stands in the front of the room, covered in glitter as he glares at Sam. "We need to talk Wilson," he tells him.
"I didn't..." he stands slowly. "You don't think I did that?"
"You left your ID badge on my desk," he holds it up by the lanyard. Sam looks at him in shock then pats his pants and jacket as if it will suddenly appear on his person.
Loki laughs so hard, he slaps the desk and says, "This is the best week I have had in decades. I don't think I've been this entertained since humans celebrated the first April Fools Day."
Sam looks at Loki and then back to Fury, "It has to be him. Do you really think I would be stupid enough to glitter bomb you and leave my ID badge?"
"I have already told you, I have not participated in your torment," Loki says. "I am merely enjoying it."
Thor adds, "Trust me, if it was my brother, he would not deny it."
"Fine, so it's not him but it's one of you," Sam looks around the room at the full table.
Fury stands unconvinced at the front of the room, his arms crossed against his chest. "You have until the end of the day to pick up every single piece of glitter," he tells Sam then he takes a seat at the head of the table to start the meeting.
Loki whispers to Sam, "I must admit, I'm really beginning to like whoever is doing this to you."
Sam rolls his eyes and says, "Oh this person you like? I thought you hated all 'humans'."
Loki corrects him, "I am generally indifferent towards your existence, that's not quite the same as hate."
"I'm not sure if that makes me feel better or not," Sam says and Loki shrugs in response.
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Day 7
Sam is confused and says, "Wait are you guys together? I thought you said you didn't talk to her..."
Sam wanders into the kitchen in the morning, yawning from lack of sleep. He had stayed up most of the night trying to figure out who was behind all of the pranks. He assumed most of the team could have done the laundry prank or googly eyes but he didn't know anyone with the tech skills to pull off the other ones.
He stops short when he sees you and Bucky together, he stands behind you with his arms around your waist. You look up at him and kiss his cheek before you notice Sam.
Bucky smirks and says, "Oh yeah, I guess I lied."
"How long..." you can see him trying to figure out if you had been together long enough to aid in his pranking.
You smile at his confusion and ask, "Wanna see something cool?" He shrugs, still processing your relationship. "Bucky told me the new toaster is voice activated."
"Oh shit," Sam slowly starts to realize what set off this whole chain reaction of pranks. "Bucky, it was just a joke. It's not actually voice activated, you know that right?"
You smile and say, "Oh, then how come this happens?" You push the button on your phone inside your pocket and say, "Toast." A few seconds later, two perfectly toasted pieces of bread pop out.
"What the hell?" Sam asks, you and Bucky laugh in response. He turns and walks back out of the kitchen, nearly walking right into Tony.
"Morning," Tony greets you both as he sets up his now fixed coffee maker. "I gotta say, I'm pretty impressed with you Y/N."
"With what?" you suddenly feel nervous.
He smiles and asks, "Did you really think you could get into all of my systems without me noticing?"
Bucky moves slightly in front of you and says, "Don't fire her, it's my fault. I asked her to help. We just wanted to get back at him a little."
Bucky pulls you closer, looks at you and says, "I know I'm lucky."
Tony laughs, takes a sip of his coffee and says, "Oh, I'm not mad. I actually am very impressed by how well you got into every part of the towers tech, we should probably talk about a promotion into our security division."
You look at him speechless, you had always wanted to work in that department.
"Also," he adds, "I had that glitter bomb for almost a year and I couldn't figure out how set it off in Fury's office without getting blamed for it so thank you for the distraction."
"Um... you're welcome," you tell him with a laugh.
"Barnes, you're luck she is on your side," he says as he turns to leave. "She's absolutely terrifying."
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I hope you liked this!! Please like, share and comment if you did 💚💚 Please let me know if you want to be added to my taglist!
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sundrop-writes · 3 days
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One Moment Per Episode With Dick Grayson
Season One, Episode One: "Titans"
Summary:
You and Dick haven't spoken since the Titans parted ways in San Francisco five years ago.
Even though you used to be as close as two people can be, both of you are doing just fine leading your own separate lives - until your psychic powers cause you to have a vision of the end of the world, and you have to turn to him for help. As much as Dick doesn't want to get involved, you know that him leading The Raven on the path she needs to travel is the only way to stop the terrible fate you saw.
He wants to deny it, and stay as far away from you as possible - but he can't avoid you or the truth that you have told him when he runs into that very Raven you speak of in an interrogation room later that night. He has to face a simple truth he has always known: you're always right.
Dick Grayson x Fem!Powered!Reader. Childhood Friends/Exes to Lovers. Emotional Angst and Bantering/Humor. Set during Season 1, Episode 1.
Word Count: 2,300
DC Titans Masterlist | AO3 Link
Detailed warnings and author's notes below the cut.
Warnings: the reader uses she/her pronouns (some people might accuse the reader character in this story of being more of an OC and I am okay with that - I try to make all the reader characters in my other stories as blank and open as possible and every now and then I let myself have a little bit of a treat) - but as usual with my stories, the majority of pronouns used in the fic are you/yours; other than clothing style and a scar that informs her backstory, the reader's looks are not described and are left vague (as far as race, body type, hair colour, etc. - those things are not described); the reader character does have powers - I might make a separate post detailing the reader's entire backstory and power set (or I might just let it be spelled out slowly through the chapters) - but for now, I will tell you that the reader character is psychic and can see glimpses of the future in dream-like visions; the reader and Dick are 'exes' - their relationship was never official (they never explicitly called each other boyfriend/girlfriend), but they used to have sex often (and they both have feelings for each other that they never openly spoke about), and they are childhood friends, so there is a lot of emotional history there; mentions of canon-typical violence; this fic does use Y/N; mentions of the reader being shot during a past undescribed incident; there is references to sex and discussions of sex, but no explicit smut (but there might be some later in the story? idk yet); emotionally constipated Dick Grayson; idk what else ? - pining, emotional angst, using humor to deflect emotional tension, banter. I just really like the vibes of this. there is not a lot of big content warnings for this fic (yet).
A/N: Honestly, I am really excited about this one. I have a lot of ideas for future episodes (especially the episode where Dick loses it emotionally and just gets followed around by a hallucination of Bruce for the entire episode - but that's not until Season 2, oop). Titans is one of my favourite series ever - if you couldn't tell - so getting to examine each episode closer and appreciate each individual episode as a unique piece of art while writing this instead of binging a whole season gives me a whole new appreciation for the show. I hope you guys enjoy these as they come out - especially because I do have an idea of where this fic is going, but I don't know where I want these characters to go in Season 4. (I kind of want to do a secret surprise reveal of two of the characters being related and being siblings, but... idk. Sometimes people don't like that.) But this is definitely a good opportunity to send me ideas of where you want this story to go/how you want it to end up. Anyway - please enjoy!!!
....
Dick needed some fucking air. 
He could barely fucking handle today. He had to compose himself before he lost it and started breaking things. It was all such a shitshow - the department pushing a new partner on him, footage of Robin all over the news, every other half-cocked beat cop making comments about how Robin was just another masked psychopath who wasn’t that different from The Joker. 
Fuck them. 
If they only knew what Gotham was like - if only they had to deal with a department full of asshole’s on the Joker’s payroll. If only they had to watch criminals walk away because they made bail on the decision of a corrupt judge. If only they had to sit behind a desk and listen to a mother’s sobs as she begged for him to find her missing child - knowing how many people elbow to elbow with him would laugh at her tears rather than start looking. 
If they only spent one night tending to civilians while the smell of burning flesh permeated the air, with the Joker’s screaming laugh stuck in their ears because he thought that bombing a low-income housing complex was just that funny. 
Fuck all of them. 
Dick clenched his fist tight - his knuckles aching as he resisted the urge to drive his arm right through the glass at the front of the precinct. He just - he really needed some air. 
Dick walked out the front doors (rather than smashing the glass), and took a deep breath of the cool night air, trying his best to calm down. It was getting late, and things were relatively slow, even for it being a Tuesday. No influx of late-night chaos yet. He had some time to collect himself before- 
“So - Robin’s in Detroit now, huh?” 
That voice. 
Dick felt the sting of familiarity pluck at his spine, and he whipped his head around at lightning speed, looking in the direction of the voice. Surely enough - you were the one standing there. It hadn’t been some kind of auditory hallucination on his part. 
So much for time to calm himself down. 
He was immediately met with a confliction - lust and annoyance bubbling up inside of him. He didn’t want to see you again, he didn’t want you to be here, especially not without warning. But you looked so damn good - it was a distraction from that fact. 
That was always the thing about exes, wasn’t it? 
(If Dick could even call you his ‘ex’ - the two of you had slept together more times than he could count, both metaphorically and literally, but the two of you had never put an official label on the relationship like he had with Dawn or Barbara. He cared for you like a friend, and like a lover in a way that he was never willing to admit - but did that make you his ex? Especially if he never stopped caring about you?) 
That thing about exes being: they always look so fucking good when you see them after a long time of being apart. The universe dangling something in front of you that you’re not allowed to have and technically, should no longer want. 
But oh - Dick found himself wanting so very badly. (And he tried his hardest to hide that fact as he continued to carefully stare you down.) 
Because you looked so good. 
You were wearing something of your usual style - an outfit of many confusing layers that somehow showed off the natural curves of your body and hid you all at the same time. 
A long skirt with a ruffled hemline and bold, colorful pattern. A pair of boots that you had probably gotten from some vintage store that were likely older than both you and Dick, leathery and well worn in. Your jacket was much the same - a supple brown leather with a soft fur lining that made you look very warm and cozy. 
Topped off with a pair of the largest, gaudiest dangling earrings that Dick had ever seen - the kind that would have gotten snagged on one of his nice shirts and gotten the two of you tangled up during one of your hook-ups. A pair of earrings that he would have scolded you for wearing - but he would have delighted in finding them on his bedroom floor after you left because it meant having a piece of you still with him. And it would mean having an excuse to visit you later because he had something of yours to return. 
Those earrings glistened in the light of the street lamps, just as your eyes did while you stared him down with those inquisitive, knowing eyes. Looking at him with that same expression you always wore - the one that seemed to say you knew everything that he never would. It equally fascinated him and infuriated him. 
He hated the fact that you had seemingly appeared out of nowhere, causing his heart to race - had you snuck up on him on purpose? Did you find it funny? 
“Y/N,” Dick said your name curtly, still feeling a slight twinge of shock that you were standing in front of him at all. “What the fuck are you doing here?” 
You let out a dry chuckle, and stepped closer to him, making his whole body stiff. His first instinct was to step backward - to gain more distance from you. But he didn’t want to seem like he was afraid of you - afraid of that closeness. So he forcefully locked his legs and stayed in place as you drifted closer, and you idly conversed back. 
“Oh, Dickie.” You sighed in return, using his childhood nickname. “A warm welcome as always.” 
Dick rolled his eyes at this. Did he really need to bother with manners and formalities? The two of you had known each other for so long, he guessed that you were both well over stuff like that. 
“Do I need a reason to be here? Can’t I just visit an old friend?” You posed, a humorous tone still running through your voice. 
He shoved his hands into his pockets as he took a more defensive stance. He quickly went from shock then to annoyance. 
The two of you were old friends - you had known each other since you were in diapers together. The two of you had grown up together, raised by a unique circus family. And that meant that Dick knew you well enough to know that if you were here, you had a good reason to be. 
(If you had wanted to chase him when he first left Gotham, you likely would have camped out in the trunk of his car, or you would have shown up at his new apartment the day after he moved in. You wouldn’t have waited this long to contact him.) 
“Do us both a favor and cut the bullshit, please.” Dick replied sternly. “Why are you here?” 
“Grumpy.” You sighed, sounding defeated. 
He waited for a moment, and surely enough - you folded, now willing to directly explain your reason for showing up in Detroit so suddenly. 
“I had a vision.” You explained. “A girl. The Raven. A lot of others consider her to be the eater of worlds, but she is the one who is going to save us all, Dick.” 
He let out a harsh puff of air, reaching up and running fingers roughly over his temple. Yup, there it was - the headache had fully set in now. He really didn’t need this. Not tonight. 
He had known about your visions for a long time. When he was younger, he had been shocked to find out that you had inherited your mother’s ‘gift’. He previously had no clue that her set-up as a sideshow fortune teller with Tarot cards and a large crystal ball wasn’t all psychology tricks and half-guesses she put on for tourists - but in fact, it was actually something informed by larger supernatural forces at play. And it was something you could do as well. 
So he was inclined to believe you when you told him about this vague vision, but he also didn’t want to be involved. He had a lot on his plate right now - he didn’t need this. 
“Look, I’m sure that whatever you saw was important, but-” He began. 
You sighed and shook your head harshly at this ‘but’. 
“Why don’t you just take it to New York instead? This kind of thing is way more Donna’s speed, anyway. I’m sure she can help you find this girl, and-” 
“That won’t help.” You told him. “The girl is already on her way here.” 
You spoke the words with such utter certainty, and it sent shivers up Dick’s spine. The calm, tranquil look on your face - the ominous wiseness you held: it reminded Dick so much of your mother. The other-worldly authority she held that had ultimately gotten her killed. It was strangely creepy. 
“Just so you know, I hate it when you say ominous shit like that.” Dick told you, gesturing to your person with stiff offense in his body. “Just because your mother played the creepy voodoo witch for tourists doesn’t mean you have to.” 
“I’m not playing.” You replied, exasperated. 
You knew that Dick could be frightened of your powers at times. He was someone very logic-based - he built his beliefs around facts. So having you follow your visions and your ‘gut feelings’ when they were never concrete, changing on a dime - he hated the uncertainty and chaos that came with it all. But you had learned to trust yourself and your feelings over time, even if he didn’t. 
“And you know, you’re involved in this whether you want to be or not.” You told him, trying to get the conversation back on track. “I don’t think it’s a coincidence that Robin made his first appearance in months last night.” 
Dick became stiff at this, and quickly glanced around - as though waiting for someone to appear out of nowhere and point an accusing finger at him, screaming out that he was Robin and he had been caught. 
“You can’t help it, Dick Grasyon.” You declared with intense certainty. “You need to save people, you need to feel like you’re making a difference, you-” 
“So what, now you expect me to save the whole fucking world?” Dick snapped back. 
“She does.” You corrected. 
“Who?” He replied - confused and once again annoyed at your mysticism and bold confidence in your visions. 
“The Raven.” You told him. “She needs you. And whether you like it or not, you need her.” 
You shifted your stance then, waiting for him to tell you that you were right - which was how most of your arguments ended. 
But then, as a sick reminder, the lapel of your jacket opened enough for Dick to get a glance at your chest. The neckline of your blouse was wide open, but his eyes weren’t drawn to your cleavage - instead, he became focused on a large scar that you had sitting over your heart. A place where a bullet had ripped through you, leaving you barely alive. 
He still remembered the feeling of your blood warm under his hands while you looked up at him with tears in your eyes, begging him to save you. He remembered sitting at your bedside, believing that you would never wake up again. 
He couldn’t help but to reach up and gently skim his thumb across the roughness of the scarred skin as he glared at it with a stiff jaw. The touch sent shivers through you - it was the first time he had touched you since that last night in Gotham, when you had woken up to an empty bed and absolutely no explanation as to where he had gone. 
Dick felt rage boil inside of him. 
How could you ask him to save the world when he had been responsible for this? 
This - this was why he was no fucking savior. 
“You shouldn’t be here.” He said, choking on the words slightly as he took his hand down, shoving it back into his pocket once again. He had to avoid the temptation of touching you any further. 
If you weren’t safe around him, why would some little girl from your visions be? 
“This isn’t about me.” You scoffed. “Or-” 
‘Or us.’ 
You held back, knowing how dangerous it was to mention the royal Us around flighty Dick Grayson. For a bird without wings, he was absolutely capable of taking off in a quick moment when he wanted to. 
“This is about something so much bigger.” You pressed. “She’ll be here soon.” 
Dick let out another strained sigh at you using such ominous words again. 
“Well, next time you’re gonna come here and be all ominous and creepy, you should at least bring some coffee.” He told you, sarcasm tight on his lips. 
You made a mocking face in return. 
“Well, you could be more polite.” You scoffed. 
Before Dick could recommend that the two of you go and get a coffee in order to truly catch up, someone called out his name, drawing his attention away from you for a moment. 
“Hey, Grayson!” Someone called, sticking their head out the front door. “Prentiss is looking for you!” 
When he turned back, you were gone. He tried not to linger on it too much - how creepy it was. You were silent and quick like a ghost - he thought that your ominous jewelry might jingle like a house cat’s bell. 
But - he would call you later. Hopefully you still had the same number. 
Dick walked into the interrogation room, trying to clear his mind of the interaction with you. When he saw a small, scared girl, he thought it best to lighten the mood with a joke. 
“Hi, I’m Detective Grayson.” He said, introducing himself. “I hear you like to play baseball with bricks and cop cars. You wanna tell me what happened?” 
“You’re him.” She said, whimpering and tearful. “You’re the boy from the Circus.” 
At first, Dick thought that everyone was simply being ominous and creepy today. But then he realized:
‘Oh fuck. You were right.’
...
A/N: Please do not ask me when this fic will be updated - this fic does not have a schedule.
While this is technically the first chapter in a 'series', each chapter is meant to be enjoyed on its own. The overarching plot of the series is still that of the original Titans show, and I won't be making any major changes to the canon of the show - I just intend to showcase smaller emotional moments between the reader character and the canon characters. This is something I want to work on casually in the background between working on other things. This fic is not my main focus, and I will not be rushing to update it or complete it.
Comments and reblogs are encouraged, and I am thankful for them - but please keep those comments focused on the actual content of the series (it's plot, the characters, their dynamics, etc.). Please do not spam me asking me to update this or asking me when I will update this - because I am not in a rush to do so. I have a lot of ideas for this series that I am excited about, but I want to work on it slowly and casually because I don't want to lose my enthusiasm for it and I know that rushing will take that enthusiasm away.
If you enjoyed this - great, thanks. But if you expect this to be updated weekly like a factory pumping out stuff on a clearly outlined schedule - then you are in the wrong place. If you are expecting constant updates of this fic and you will be disappointed if it doesn't get updated regularly - you should just block me now and pretend you didn't read it. But if you are a patient person - feel free to read and enjoy my other Titans works while I am working on updates for this (and working on other exciting things), and feel free to send me a message telling me what you thought of this fic or other fics in general.
Also - if you can't get Dick Grayson off your mind - my requests are open.
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slayfics · 3 days
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Can I get a Kaminari fic please🙏🐸
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Denki takes you to your first rave. 600 words
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You swayed along with the beat, getting lost in the flashing lights and energy of the crowd. It was your first rave, and you were enjoying it more than you thought you would.
Denki navigated through the crowd finding his way back to you. "Here ya go," he said with a big smile as he handed you a drink.
"Thanks," you said loudly trying to out match the volume of the music.
"Sure thing cutie," he said sipping on his drink. "How are you liking it so far?"
"It's fun! I love the energy here! Everyone is so nice," you said smiling. Denki smiled at your enjoyment. Raves were one of his favorite ways to de-stress so he was excited to know it was something you both could enjoy together.
"I'm glad! I see you got a kandi," he said pulling your wrist closer to read the bracelet, "HA! Choking hazard- that's good," he laughed.
"Yeah!" You laughed with him. "That girl over there gave it to me," you motioned. "I should make some to bring next time!"
"Good idea, we can make some together," he suggested as he wrapped his arm around your waist bringing you to rest against him. You let yourself relax against him and followed his movements as he swayed you both to the music.
Your cheeks warmed slightly at the feel of him pressing against you in sync with the music. You closed your eyes, and felt the friction between you both, alcohol warming your insides. Feeling yourself getting lost, you tried to bring yourself back to reality, and your eyes scanned around the crowd.
All positive feelings halted as insecurity hit you like a brick. The girls surrounding you dressed in skimpy outfits, sent a frown to your face. It was your first rave, and you had no idea what the usual customs were. Apparently, it was clothing optional.
You didn't dislike your outfit but- you definitely felt out of place with all these girls dressed so revealingly. Every damn one of them was cute too. You couldn't help but feel self-conscious.
As if he could read your mind Denki bent down to whisper in your ear, "You look hot."
Denki didn't notice you looking around at the girls and he had no idea you felt self-conscious. He was lost in his own moment- being close to you and excited to have you in his arms. Pushing up against you, and the second drink settling into his stomach gave him the courage to say how he truly felt.
His compliment came at the exact moment you needed it and all your negative self-talk vanished. You spun around in his arms taking him by surprise.
Denki looked down at you, a buzzed look in his eye that caused them to sparkle as he took in the sight of you.
You pushed up on your toes and held on to his arm for support as you pressed your lips to his suddenly. You felt yourself melting into the softness of his lips before- ZAP.
A small jolt of electricity ran through your body.
"Fuck! I'm so sorry!" He yelled, taking a step back. "I got too excited- and I've been drinking- I lost control for a second," He spoke quickly feeling embarrassed.
"It's ok it's ok," you said silencing him and bringing your hand back to rest on his arm. "I.. kind of liked it," You giggled.
"Oh yeah?" he asked, a smirk growing on his face. "Well, next time I'll make sure you consent to it first though." He said flashing a wink then spinning you around to rest against him again.
"I like the sound of that," you said playfully.
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sinners: @unofficialmuilover @maddietries @fiannee @derangedmango @reneinii @zanarkandskylines @abadbitchblogs @deluluforcarlos55
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hehe. liked the married ex fic you wrote for Lucifer, and I'm inlove with your writing! it has a cloudy vibe to it. can I request Barbatos x mc who's dealing with a stalker?👀👀
Barbatos x reader - dealing with a stalker
When he first heard about the human that was living with the Demon Brothers as part of the exchange program, he had laughed.
It was a ludicrous idea. First, this whole ‘good will event’ in general, then putting a human in the thick of it with demons. They were going to eat them alive, he thought.
But as he spent more & more time seeing them around the school, he became more & more infatuated with them. Never able to get close with the brothers always hanging off them, along with the angels, but he desperately wanted to get close to them as well. He had to have them.
Sneaking past the gates and making his way over the fence, the besmitten demon cursed as his pant leg got stuck on some flower thrones. Struggling to pull away.
“May I help you?”
The young man turned in alarm to see a man looking up at him. A soft, but somehow super creepy smile, on his face as he stared at him. He had a vague memory of this man. His mind’s eye reminded him that he had seen him at school events and Devildom festivals along with Lord Diavolo. What was his majesty’s butler doing here?
“I was uh…just—“Climbing a fence. Yes, I can see that.” Barbatos interjected quickly, with that same eerie smile. “But it seems you’re stuck. Allow me.”
The young man wasn’t sure what whizzed past him, but suddenly his pant leg and the rest of the shrubbery fence had broke free and he was on the ground. “Apologies sir. That first step can be a doozy. May I help you up?”
“No, no. I’m fine.” He quickly replied as he stood on his feet and brushed his clothes off.
“Good. We wouldn’t want you hurt now. I take it you got lost on your way to the front door?”
“I uh…yeah…I guess….”
“So you decided to look for a short cut for the garden party over the fence. How industrious of you.”
‘Garden party?’ He thought, but then realized he had a reason to get in and quickly agreed, “yes, yes! I’m here for the garden party!”
“Wonderful. Could I have your name please?”
The young idiot quickly gave his name to the older demon. Who had a clipboard appear out of nowhere and seemed to scan it. “Hmm…I’m not seeing your name. Who gave you the invitation?”
“[Y/N],” he answered quickly, “they invited me.” He wouldn’t dare drop the brothers’ names, and they were the only other person he knew that lived in the house. “They totally did.”
“Ah. I see. Well, I’m not seeing your name, as I said. And I don’t think [Y/N] would be so repugnant to not tell me of an additional guest they were inviting.” The young man gulped. “I know! Why don’t we go ask them? I’m sure they can clear this all up.”
He felt his blood run cold at the suggestion. If they asked them about it in front of everyone, not only would be embarrassed, shunned out of school, and possibly murdered by the Demon Brothers, his chances of getting close to [Y/N] were out the window.
“Well it…it’s meant to be a surprise?”
“Oh! A surprise! Surprises can be fun.” The butler took another step towards him. That smile never leaving his face for a moment through the whole exchange, but suddenly seemed so dark & twisted that the young man felt he was going to be swallowed whole without him ever opening his jaws. “I especially like surprises that maybe never come. Maybe it will be today. Maybe next week. Maybe never. But the chances of surprises happening are always out there. Just….waiting…to spring out on you.”
The young man jump and was suddenly running before he knew it. He didn’t know why. He just had to get out of there. Away from the House of Lamentation and that creepy smile. Away to somewhere safe. Wherever that was.
***********
Barbatos’s eyes narrowed as he watched the intruder sprint away. The outline of his back fading quickly off in the distance.
He and Lord Diavolo would really need to look into what special power [Y/N] had to continuously snare demons into their web. They never seemed to try, but every week their seemed to be some new admirer. He and his lord would have to uncover what that power was, and find a way to harness it.
“Barbatos,” the butler turned when he heard his name and saw [Y/N] there calling to him. “Is everything alright? You seem annoyed.”
“Oh. Don’t worry [Y/N].” He told them with a bright, genuine smile this time. “Just taking care of some rats in the garden.”
“Oh no,” they said with a little giggle, “I hope there weren’t too many. I know how much you hate them.”
“Just one.” Barbatos told them. “But they won’t be back. Come, let’s rejoin with everyone and have some tea. I made a special blend I’m sure you will enjoy.”
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buckevantommy · 15 hours
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canon divergence fic from 3x16 where chim is moved by buck to touch base with his old pal tommy for a drink and a catch up this time instead of a favor. couple weeks later chim mentions he's catching up with tommy again, and buck is like, "wait, who's tommy?" and chim explains he's an old 118 friend, one of his first friends on the job - after eli and before hen - and he left to join the 217. anyway buck rocks up to the bar later having forgotten about chim's friend date; he's had a crappy day and doesn't wanna bring down the vibe but chim insists he join them so he does.
so s3!buck meets tommy. the buck who hasn't had any luck in love since he watched abby leave and who had a rough time with the whole red situation. buck or chim introduces him as evan buckley so tommy calls him evan and buck doesn't think to correct him.
chim explains roughly about buck having a hard time in love and tommy sympathises, saying his last relationship didn't work out and the one before that couldn't handle his job, throwing in a male pronoun and casting an eye chim's way to gague his reaction. chim takes it in stride, only needing a second to orient. "well, that's his loss." and then buck is commiserating with tommy about finding someone you like but who can't handle the job - iterating that the job is his life, but since red? he wants more. he just doesn't know if he'll find it. and maybe tommy hasn't been looking for relationship material for a couple of years after those bad breakups, choosing instead to just enjoy himself as much as possible and avoid heartbreak - and buck knows what that's like he's been there, and chim offers up a few tales of buck 1.0 including theft of a fire engine for a hookup which has tommy laughing in disbelief.
all this to say: s3!buck meets tommy and they strike up a friendship that eventually serves as catalyst for buck's bi awakening. i'll take every alternate meeting of these two in canon i can get, but i just finished s3 so this is where my head is at rn. i just like the idea of chim reconnecting with tommy a lot sooner, and tommy getting to reconnect and know the rest of the 118 sooner. i also like the idea of getting to know this tommy who is somewhere between his 118 years and season 7; i don't think he'd be the same guy we meet in s7, i mean he's comfortable in his sexuality but maybe he's a little less settled than later seasons tommy.
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foreveralbon · 1 day
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congratulations on the 500!!! i love your works so much
DESSERT! end your day with something a little self-indulgent, like a short fic (~1k) inspired by any of these [ one two three four five ] prompts!
⇴ ^^ "um, so, what do you think we should do?" "i'm not sure. i'll always follow your lead though." with ollie? (if you don't write for him, you could do it with charles)!
TRUTH, DARE, SPIN BOTTLES - OB3
in which a silly little game turns your friendship into something a bit more (or so your friends think) prompt: “um, so, what do you think we should do?” “i’m not sure. i’ll always follow your lead though.” content warnings: drinking (ollie and reader are not underage but ollie drinks apple juice) a/n: thank you and wonderful choice nonnie! i hope you enjoy <3
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In hindsight, perhaps saying yes to playing Seven Minutes in Heaven was a stupid idea.
The beer bottle has landed on you four times now, and Ollie’s gotten away with one. Each time, you’ve opted out by taking a shot, much to the dismay of your would-be partner.
Your boyfriend, on the other hand, is more than delighted by the disappointed looks on their faces, sending a sly grin your way with every shot you take.
He nurses a cup of apple juice instead, cautious of his diet during the F2 season.
“You have to stop being boring and play,” your best friend fusses eventually after your fifth shot. “We’re here to have fun.”
You just roll your eyes. It’s a conversation you’ve had with her many times; how you’re too boring and need to get out more, get laid even. Truthfully, it’d all end if you just told her about Ollie, but the sneaking around is far too fun to reveal your relationship so early.
“You know what, yoir turn again,” Paul calls to you. “You can’t drink this time.”
“Boo.” You reach over and twist the Corona bottle, watching with bated breath as it spins round and round. Eventually, it slows to stop, the neck pointed directly to Ollie. You exhale deeply, sending a quick thank you to the universe before standing up to go to the room. Ollie follows quickly behind you.
“Don’t get any ideas, kids,” your best friend sings.
“Isn’t that what the whole point of the game?” You joke as you step inside the room.
Once you’re sure the door is locked behind you, you whirl around to face Ollie. “Hi, baby.”
“Hi, love,” he grins. “Having fun?”
Ollie presses one tentative kiss against your lips, silently asking your permission to take it further. You respond by fisting his hoodie and tugging him closer, kissing him deeply.
You’ve only been in the company of your friends for a few hours now, and you’ve shied away from Ollie’s touch because of their presence. But even an evening is far too long to stay away from him.
Eventually, your moment together is interrupted by a sharp bang against the door, followed by a loud groan from your best friend.
“Are they actually making out in there?”
“What else would they be doing?” You can hear Arthur rolling his eyes just from his tone, followed by a sharp ow as your best friend gives him a whack for his attitude.
“I don’t know, talking?”
It's when Arthur says it that you finally pull away from Ollie. Shiny, pink lipgloss is pressed around his mouth and the ends of your hair have been tousled by his wild fingers. You quickly swipe the lipgloss off his lips and comb your hair to look somewhat presentable again.
“C’mon, love,” he whispers. “Let’s get out.”
You turn the handle and step out into the hallway to find Kimi, Paul, Arthur and your best friend standing around the door. The rest of your friend group is still sat on the tiled floor, chatting and laughing away, oblivious to the commotion going on.
Your best friend jumps up at the sight of you, takes in your poorly-combed through hair and flushed cheeks. Her eyes dart between you and Ollie before gasping, “Oh my god, you were totally making out in there.”
You’re quick to protest. “No!”
“Yes!”
“No,” Arthur says in disbelief. His brows are furrowed in disbelief and his mouth hangs open as he stares at Ollie. “No.”
Then Kimi, having found out about your relationship weeks ago, blurts out, “They’re not dating.”
She pauses to give Kimi an incredulous look. “No one said that they were. What do you mean by that?”
Kimi’s eyes widen and he sputters to get a response out. “Well, you know-”
Your friend practically pounces on the boy, claws ready to pry an answer from him.
It doesn’t take long for your friends to become distracted - Kimi is waving his hands animatedly in his defence while she watches him with a glare. Arthur and Paul try to talk them down, with a meagre, “Guys, maybe we should just ask them,” but it’s clear no one’s listening to them.
When you’re sure you’ve been forgotten about, you lean towards Ollie, your shoulder brushing against the soft cotton of his hoodie. “Should we leave?”
“Mhm,” he mumbles. He reaches for your hand, and together you quietly shuffle away. They continue their banter and you make it to the front door without a single one of them noticing. Ollie quickly unlocks the door, ushering you out onto the porch. He steps out right after you, leaving the door open wide enough to still hear their arguing.
And so, you and Ollie listen to the chaos as it unfolds. His hand barely muffles the sound of his laughter and giggles threaten to spill from your pursed lips.
“They’re just friends!” Kimi exclaims.
“Friends don’t make out like that.” Your best friend’s voice is panicked, and if you didn’t know any better, you’d say that she’s certainly spiralling.
“They do when it’s Ollie Bearman. Have you seen him?”
At that, Ollie lets out a bite of laughter. He leans down, tall frame forever hovering above yours, to whisper, "So, what do you think we should do?"
You turn back to face him, eyes bright with mischief. "What do you think, Ollie?"
"I'm not sure. I'll always follow your lead though."
"I think... that we should head out of here. Froyo?"
Ollie's face stretches into a wide grin, and he kisses you. Two short pecks that have Paul stopping short in his tracks when he passes the front door, cracked open wide enough that he can see exactly what you and your boyfriend are up to. His eyes dart back and forth, mouth agape as he points an accusing finger in your direction. "I fucking knew it! You're dating!"
"Shh! Keep your voice down, Paul," you urge. You beckon for him to come closer.
He moves onto the porch, allowing the door to quietly click shut behind him. “How long?”
“Four months now,” Ollie says.
Paul groans. “Does this mean I have to cover for you now while you two sneak off?”
“Well, you see…” Ollie laughs, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly.
He bits his lip in contemplation, before shaking his head with resignation. “Okay. Go.”
You squeal, lunging towards him for a quick hug. “Thank you so much. You have no idea.”
Inside, the arguing has quieted down into low chatter, but you can hear Kimi’s loud laughter and your friend’s protesting drawing closer to the front of the house. Paul pauses against the door. “Have fun.” And then the door shuts behind him and he’s saying loudly, “No, I haven’t seen them. They probably left ages ago.”
Ollie beams down at you, excitement marked all over his face. “So what do you say, love? Froyo?”
come join the celebration!! or read some of my normal stuff
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lolahauri · 2 days
Text
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ It's Your Sex I Can Smell
Ship: Ticci Toby/Reader
Type: GN/M, Explicit Smut, Part 1/2.
Contains: Invasion of Privacy, Masturbation, Scent Kink, Panty Raid, Underwear Kink, No Sex (yet).
Words: 1.6k
Requested?: Kinda.
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A/N: Finally finished Toby's dirty secret fic! Sorry it took like two months damn!! I swear part two will come out way sooner than that. 0-0
You walked out of your room in a hurry, quickly fixing your hair and sweatshirt. You only had a couple hours left in the day to sneak into town and grab some essentials for the house. You felt bad leaving Toby home alone, but you needed to be quick and undistracted, you hoped he’d be fine staying to help clean up a bit before Masky and Hoodie returned the next morning.
Walking down the hall and towards the door, you spotted him sitting at the table, finishing his lunch. You walked behind him, wrapping your arms around his neck and leaning down to his ear, “Hey Tobes, I gotta run some errands before the shops in town close. I’ll be back in a couple hours, m'kay?”
Toby simply hummed and nodded in response, you couldn’t tell from behind, but a nervous blush was spreading across his face. You smiled and turned to kiss his cheek before pulling away from his body entirely, making sure to say goodbye one more time as you headed out the door. He hated to admit it, but the simple action of a hug and kiss on the cheek from you had his blood running straight to his cock. 
It made him feel like such a loser, but he couldn’t help it. You’re just so fucking cute and sweet and affectionate with him, how could he not be a total simp for you? The hardness in his cock steadily grew, creating an uncomfortable tightness in the crotch of his pants. He tried to ignore it, he really did. But today he just couldn’t stop thinking about your beautiful body and hypnotizing voice. 
His mind was absolutely racing with dirty fantasies. Ranging from being on his knees and going down on you, to fucking you from behind like an animal in heat and being drowned in your moans. His cock was throbbing painfully now, it was getting unbearably hard to fight now. But, I guess it wouldn’t hurt to jerk off right? He was home alone now. You wouldn’t be back for at least 3 or 4 hours, and the other two were gone till tomorrow morning. There was total privacy. 
Toby leaned back in his chair, pushing his hips up to shift to a more comfortable position. He ran his hand over the bulge in his jeans, sighing from the small bit of relief. Throwing his head back, he continued to tease himself through his clothes, pretending it was your hand rubbing and grabbing on his hard cock. He slowly unzipped his pants, pulling them and his boxers down at an agonizingly slow rate. He wanted this to last as long as possible, not knowing the next time he’d have this sort of isolation again. 
As his cock was finally being released, Toby noticed something from the corner of his eye, it was your favorite hoodie hanging on the chair next to him. You must’ve forgotten to put it in the wash today. 
And just as he realized that, an idea sprung into his mind. Without thinking on it too much longer, he reached over, grabbing it and bringing it to his face. He took a deep inhale as he buried his nose in the cloth. Fuck, it still smelled just like you . 
It was an intoxicating mix of your natural scent, signature fragrance, and just a hint of sweat. Unconsciously, he ran his free hand back down to his crotch, grabbing it at the base and slowly beginning to stroke upwards, face still nuzzled into your hoodie. He groaned at the sensation, suddenly becoming aware of his body, and just how fucking horny he was. 
Toby started off with a slow, teasing pace. Steadily move his hand up and back down again, occasionally swiping his thumb across the tip, smearing his precum and using it as lube. His breathing was starting to get heavy, completely lost in pleasure as his continued to fantasize about you. He imagined you were still wearing this sweater, sitting in his lap and bouncing on his cock like a whore. He imagined how pretty you’d look in that state, sweat droplets building up on your face, mouth parted and flowing with whimpers and moans, hair messy and sticking to your forehead. 
Just thinking about how fucking good it would feel to completely stuff you with his cum nearly made him lose it right then and here. He’d give anything to watch it drip down your thighs and lick them clean right afterwards. 
He was beating his cock at a hard, fast rate now, high pitched moans escaping his throat and being absorbed by your clothing. He was getting dizzy from your scent now, a cloud of lust fogging his mind completely. Something this weird should not be feeling so good right now. 
But soon, he began to slow himself down to a complete halt. Toby lazily stuffed his cock back into his pants as he pulled them up a bit. Another idea was coming to him, a very, very stupid one. But he wasn’t thinking clearly, that much was obvious as he stood up and stumbled down the hall to your room.
What he was thinking to himself was simple, if you hadn’t put your favorite, most used sweatshirt in the wash already, then surely the rest of your used clothes must be untouched too? Which would mean your used underwear would be available, free to use as a replacement for your hoodie. Yes, it would be gross, and it would be a complete invasion of privacy... but if you never found out, it couldn’t hurt, right? 
Normally he wouldn’t even consider doing something like this to you, you’re his best friend. And yes, he was madly in love with you, but he also didn’t want to risk what you two already had, and it goes without saying, this could easily ruin what you two have.
He wasn’t in the right headspace to think that rationally though, he just couldn’t deny anymore that he’d always secretly dreamed of doing this. And if he couldn’t have you… maybe this would suffice… 
Toby carefully turned the knob of your door, testing to see if it was locked or not. Of course it wasn’t, you had no reason to do so, nobody ever went into your room anyway. Well, not that you were aware of at least.
He swiftly pushed through the entrance of your room and began to scan your room for a laundry basket. Sweet , it was right by your bed. Without even bothering to close the door behind him, he walked straight to the basket, shuffling through your clothes and looking for the first pair underwear he could find. 
“Fuck…” he muttered under his breathe as he lifted your underwear out of the pile. They were cute, and soft. The hardness in his pants twitched and throbbed at the sight, feeling a rush of anxiety and arousal course through his entire body. His hands were lightly trembling as he brought the used garment to his face, still clutching onto your hoodie as if you were still in it. 
Toby took a deep inhale, closing his eyes halfway and groaning. The scent was fresh and intoxicatingly musky, you must’ve just changed out of them before you left . Not wanting to waste any more time, he stood up from his kneeling position on the floor and crawled into your bed. He laid his head back onto your pillows and quickly took his cock out again. He immediately got to work, jerking himself off at a harsh, vigorous pace, twitching with every jolt of electricity being sent through his veins. 
His mouth and nose were fully covered by your underwear as he breathed in it’s scent. Savoring it like a fine wine, feeling almost drunk off of you when you weren’t even in the home. God, he wishes so badly he could have you sitting on his face right now. He wants you to use him, shame him, make him feel like the disgusting pervert he is. 
He sticks his tongue out to taste you on the clothing, letting out a pathetic whine right away. His back arches off of the bed as he repeatedly licks the fabric. He can feel himself getting close. No matter how hard he tries to edge himself, he can feel the pressure build up inside. 
Before he gets too close though, he hurriedly moves the panties to wrap them around his throbbing cock. He bites his lip so hard his teeth are threatening to break skin, watching himself use your underwear like a fleshlight. The soft, warm fabric was hugging his cock so nicely he just couldn’t hold back anymore. 
The pressure that had been building in his lower abdomen finally reached it’s breaking point. His muscles tensed momentarily before his orgasm began to erupt. He whimpered and moaned out loud as his body twitched and spasmed under his hand. A wave of ecstasy crashed over him so hard he nearly screamed. 
He stroked his cock one, two, three, four more times before he stopped. His breathing was labored and heavy as he tried to calm down. He soon felt the post-climax exhaustion hit him. His eyes half-lidded as he slowly went to remove the cum stained underwear from his lap, but he couldn’t get too far with the clean up before he was interrupted. 
“What the fuck?!” A loud voice yelled from the doorway, making him instantly wake up. Adrenaline coursed through every nerve and vein in his body, heart immediately racing. 
This can’t be fucking happening right now…
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the girl next door 18
Warnings: this fic will include elements, some dark, such as age gap, manipulation, chronic illness, noncon/dubcon, coercion, and other untagged triggers. Please take this into account before proceeding. It is up to curate your online consumption safely.
Summary: A new neighbour moves in and upends your already disarrayed life.
Author’s Note: Please feel free to leave some feedback, reblog, and jump into my asks. I’m always happy to discuss with you and riff on idea. As always, you are cherished and adored! Stay safe, be kind, and treat yourself.
This lewk but silverfox
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“You know, sweetie, I was thinking,” Steve stacks the plates and gathers the utensils, “if you’re going to take those pills, I don’t think you should be alone.” 
You blink and sit up, rubbing your neck. You’re not a good liar. You weren’t planning on taking them. You were just going to go home and lay down but he keeps bringing it up. Maybe he’s suspicious. 
“Oh, I think I’ll be okay--” 
“Look, honey, your mom’s already in the hospital. I’d hate to see you in there with her. For my peace of mind, will you stay? Just for the night. That way we can head out bright and early to get mom,” he suggests. 
“Well...” you trail off, staring at the wall. 
He’s being pushy but for good reason. He’s looking out for you. You’re the one going against doctor’s orders and why? Because it’s embarrassing to think it’s that bad. Depressed? No, just pathetic. 
“Here, you can borrow some of my clothes,” his voice muffles as he goes into the kitchen and the plates clink in the sink. He reappears and grabs the boxes from the table, wiggling free on and peeling the flap open, “take a shower and relax. You need a good night’s sleep.” 
He pulls out the insert then reaches for the doctor’s note. He pops out a tablet and holds it out to you, “says you might get lightheaded. Let me know if you need anything, okay?” 
“I... It’s okay. I’ll go home to...” you bat your lashes at him and give up. He’s just as hard to argue with as your mother, although in a much different way. Your mom is stubborn and mean, but he’s concerned and you’re the one being obstinate. “Okay.” 
You take the pill and stare at it. It’s so small. You probably won’t feel a thing. You shrug and grab your glass of water and swig it down, tossing the tablet in your mouth before you swallow. You gulp thickly and set down the glass. 
“Right, let me get you something to sleep in. And a towel,” he says as he claps his hands. 
You nod and stay at the table as he strides off. You look down at your lap, thumbs twiddling around each other. As nice as he is, you’re starting to feel like just another burden. 
Before you can sink too far into self-pity, you make yourself get up. You take your glass and carry it into the kitchen. You flip on the faucet and dump what’s left of the water. You rinse out the glass and place it in the rack of the dishwasher. You do the plates next, then the cutlery. As you close the door and it clicks, you’re startled by the shadow to your left. 
Where the counter extends, Steve stands on the other side. You blanch and fold your hands over your chest. You show your teeth sheepishly. 
“You didn’t have to do all that,” he smiles. “You’re a guest.” 
“I... I wanted to help,” you say, “um, but... I don’t know how to turn it on.” 
“Leave that to me. I put the stuff in the bathroom for you. If you feel like it, you can have a bath. Help chase away the stressful day,” he offers. 
“Shower’s fine,” you drop your arms and raises your shoulders, trying to make yourself smaller, “thanks.” 
“No problem, sweetie,” he comes around the counter as you go to move in the opposite direction. You nearly collide and press yourself against the drawers as he grazes past you with and apology, “just... gonna finish up.” 
He presses a button on the dishwasher door and you flit away. His cologne clings in your nostrils as his warmth lingers around you. Too close. 
You go upstairs and shut yourself in the bathroom. It’s a little bit of solace. It’s not much but it’s space for yourself. You see the towel hung from the rack and the clothes folded on the counter. The tee shirt is grayish blue and the shorts are drawstring and stretchy.  
You twist and turn the faucet, water running into the sharp-cornered tub but you can’t figure out how to get the showerhead going. You turn the water off then on. Off and on. What the heck? 
“You okay in there, sweetie?” Steve calls through the door as friction rubs against the outside. 
“Um, yeah,” you shut off the tub and back up. You go to the door and flick the lock back, opening it just a little. “How... I can’t get the shower...” your words jumble up with your embarrassment. How stupid. You can’t even figure that out. 
“No problem,” he steps in and you back up. 
He goes to the tub and flips on the water, pulling out the lever until the water flows from above. You could smack yourself. Instead ,you thank him and hug yourself. He turns and winks at you, “all good. Anything else?” 
“No, I’m fine,” you assure him. 
He nods and marches back to the door, turning to tap on the edge of the door, “alright, sweetie.” 
He shuts the door and you go to lock it behind him. You retreat and slowly undress. The clothes you’ve been wearing since the night before are slightly musty with sweat and the stench of the hospital.
You step under the showerhead and let the temperature seep in. You lean your head back as it splashes down your chest. You stand with your eyes closed, your mind slowing and your eyelids scratchy. You feel your muscles slacken and sway just a little. 
Oof. You open your eyes and steady yourself. You look around and find a bottle of woodsy-scented soap. It’ll have to do. You won’t use too much, either. 
The steam forms a cloud around you. The humidity clogs in your nose and chest and swirls in your head. You’re dizzy as you slap a hand on the tile and turn off the faucet. 
You stagger out. The heat of the water fogs the mirror, further setting you off kilter. You pull on the shirt and shorts then collect your own clothes. You leave the towel on the rod and lean into the door as you unlock it. 
You trip out into the hall and wander along, for a moment, forgetting where you are. You enter the bedroom with the purple bedspread and dump the armful on the dresser. You stumble and sit on the edge of the bed. You slump onto your shoulder and your head lolls. You think the medicine is kicking in. 
You close your eyes and descend into the grey. It’s as if you’re floating on water, swaying and rolling with the tides. Not quite awake and not quite asleep. You hear yourself droning nonsensically. Snort and jerk but can’t break free of the heaviness. The world is moving around you but your eyelids won’t peel back. 
Your head pulses as you sink further and further down. Your subconscious is so deep it’s suffocating. The dim darkens to an endless void through which you hurtle down towards no bottom. The blackness unfurls before you, swallowing you up. 
You wake to the ceiling above you. There’s warmth against your side and a gentle breath brushing over your cheek. You groan and look over as the slumbering form next to you. You nearly scream at the sight of Steve but you don’t have the strength to do more than babble. 
Your arms shake as you sit up, your muscles sore and strained. You hold your head as you try to think straight. You shut your eyes again and urge yourself to wake up. It’s a nightmare. Some twisted dream. 
Your lashes flick up and you tilt your head to follow the yellow light seeping in between the curtains. It’s morning already. Your vision turns vivid and you’re certain you’re truly awake. But how did you end up here? 
“Sweetie,” Steve rasps groggily as he rolls onto his back, “you okay?” 
“Steve,” you look down at the tee shirt, drooping down one shoulder, “how... why am I in here?” 
“Hmm,” he rubs his forehead and opens his eyes, “you don’t remember?” 
“Remember?” 
“You came in here, saying you couldn’t sleep,” he lifts himself up, his chest bare as the blanket falls away, “you wouldn’t go back to bed so... I just let you stay. You seemed pretty out of it.” 
“I... I did?” You gurgle. 
“Must be the pills,” he rubs your back, “we can talk to the nurse again. Sweetie, are you okay?” 
You don’t understand. Why would you come in here? How can you not remember? 
“Nothing... happened?” 
He laughs, “sweetie, what would happen?” 
He stares at you and you grimace, shaking your head, “nothing. Nothing, I just... can’t remember.” 
“Hm,” he hums and his hand slides lower, stopping just above your bum before brushing back up, “just sleeping. That’s it.” 
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peachhcs · 3 days
Text
something funny?
so high school au (emma grace x gabe perreault)
advanced french 2 and econ don’t mix. gabe has no idea what’s going on, but luckily emma does!
2.1k words
wooo first real fic of the au!! this was actually so cutie to write and if anyone has any requests/ideas for emma and gabe pls send them in! :))
au masterlist
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emma's gaze slid towards the dark-haired boy sitting beside her furiously scribbling down work for a class that most definitely wasn't for advanced french 2. the graphs and tables for sure screamed economics or something similar because she remembered very well doing those a few months ago before she graduated.
the blonde tore her eyes away from his work and tried focusing on the lecture at hand, but for some reason she just could not pay attention no matter how hard she tried. all emma could think about was the amount of work she needed to do once class was over while praying that a table was open somewhere in the library.
god knows everyone's trying to get ahead before the semester quite literally devours them. the professor started leaving her desk to mill about the classroom while she spoke and the boy beside emma hadn't even looked up once—too focused on econ.
the other thing was that emma was feeling gracious today, so she nudged the boy's leg so he'd at least look like he was paying somewhat attention when their professor walked by. his gaze shot to hers and emma just motioned towards their professor about to breeze right past them. gabe's head snapped right and he immediately hid his econ papers as the lady walked by.
"if you're not paying attention next time she walks by, i'm not helping you out," emma whispered. gabe's eyebrows rose, amusement on his features.
"jeez, okay. didn't ask for help in the first place," the boy shrugged as he returned his focus to his other work. emma studied him for a few moments trying and failing on getting the graph right.
an uncontrollable giggle left her lips at the boy's poor, poor attempt. his head snapped back in her direction, another eyebrow raised, "something funny?"
emma immediately shook her head despite the smile still tugging on her lips, "not at all."
"something must be funny if you're laughing," gabe sneered back. he's had a long day—being up since 6am for morning skate—and the last thing he needed was some girl he didn't even know making fun of him.
"i just think it's funny watching you do econ in an advanced french 2 class," the blonde shrugged lightly.
"it's not like i need to pay attention away. already know french."
emma blinked while the boy turned back to his laptop. why on earth was this kid in advanced french if he already knew french? "you already know french?"
"mhm. fluent in it, actually," gabe's cocky smile almost made emma wanna slap it off him.
"then why are you taking french if you already know it?"
"because i can and i want to. i think it's funny. do you know french already?" there went that stupid eyebrow raise again when gabe looked at her.
"i do, yes," emma mumbled.
"so why are you taking french if you already know it?" his little head tilt and stupid smirk didn't sit well with the girl. she didn't have time to respond though because the professor walked past their section again, eyes probably trying to find the culprits who were talking in class.
"see? didn't have to help me that time," god, he was insufferable already. maybe emma shouldn't have started interacting with him. life 10 minutes ago was a lot better than life now.
"don't you have time to do all this work later?" she didn't know what possessed her to keep talking, but something about this boy intrigued her as much as he frustrated her.
"not really, no. early morning skate then actual practice right after class. by that time it's late and i'm lazy," gabe shrugged and it all finally clicked for emma.
he was a hockey player. made sense now. no wonder why he never paid attention in class.
"don't you like get banned from playing if you don't keep up with your work?" emma didn't know that much about how sports worked here, but she knew if her brother didn't keep up with his classes, he couldn't swim.
"i keep up with my work, don't worry," gabe snipped a bit. this time emma raised her own eyebrow while trying to keep in another pitiful laugh.
"mhm, sure. tell that to your econ class."
the professor walked past their section again, definitely trying to catch emma and gabe whispering. the two watched her stalk by before heading towards the front again. the blonde's eyes were on gabe's homework again, working through the problem in her mind. she immediately saw his issue—he had the wrong numbers on his graph which messed up his calculations. it was an easy fix.
"your numbers are wrong," again, despite the boy's annoying attitude, she was still feeling gracious. her curiosity about him was too high not to help.
"huh?"
"on your graph. it's supposed to be by .02. that's why you aren't getting the right answers," emma pointed out briefly.
gabe studied what she just said and looked back and forth between his numbers and graph, slowly realized she was in fact right. "oh," he mumbled.
"next time i won't help you," emma smirked.
"not like i asked for your help in the first place," the hockey player mumbled as he started redoing his entire graph with the right numbers.
the two didn't talk again until the last ten minutes of class. gabe was still furiously working away on his econ homework while emma took occasional glances in his direction. she thought he was stupid for waiting until last minute to finish it, especially in another class.
he nudged her leg first this time and her gaze snapped to his, "hey. what else you know about econ?"
he probably had about ten more problems left with no finish in sight anytime soon. emma stopped another pitiful laugh wanting to escape her lips.
"a decent amount. why?" the girl raised her eyebrow.
"probably a long shot, but any chance you could help me out later? i really gotta finish this assignment it's already two days late and if i don't, coach will pull me," gabe almost begged, but his pride and ego were too big for that.
the look on his face and big, puppy dog eyes were hard to say no to for emma despite everything in her telling her no. she'd feel bad if she didn't, especially when his mistakes were probably easy fixes. if only she wasn't so nice sometimes.
"i can give you my number and you can text me. i'll be in the library for a few hours after class," emma motioned for his phone.
"really? you'll actually help?" gabe seemed surprised she said yes.
"i feel like i don't have a choice, plus econ is easy for me. you probably have stupid mistakes that are easy fixes," she started punching her number into the boy's phone.
"how long will you be at the library for?"
"i don't know. until 6?" a good three hours seemed like enough time for emma to grind out her three page essay.
"shit, i have practice then. any chance we can meet at like..9? i know it's inconvenient, but i don't have any other time," he was such a hard no. even if emma didn't know him nor did she even really care for him, she felt bad not helping.
"9 works. just text me," the blonde nodded.
a genuine smile painted gabe's lips as well as a somewhat relieved look, "thanks so much. i really appreciate it. i'm gabe by the way."
"emma," the girl smiled back.
man, she should've said no. emma didn't think he was coming. it was 9:15—fifteen minutes late—and no text or anything. she left to her dorm two different times and there was still nothing from the the boy. the only people in the library at this hour were her and the few who just didn't have a social life and completely studied their asses off at any second they got.
in some ways, emma was that person just a bit more dialed down. at least she didn't spend hours in the library.
she checked her phone again and nothing. a sigh escaped her lips because she really thought gabe cared a little bit somewhere inside of him to not completely flake.
when all hope seemed lost quick footsteps came up behind emma's table and suddenly, gabe's frame was beside where she sat.
"i'm so, so sorry i'm late. practice ran over and then my friends had to talk to me for..i'm sorry," his apologize was unexpected, but appreciated. emma managed a small smile.
"really thought you'd flake on me," she laughed.
"i was gonna text, but then i forgot. i'm sorry. i didn't mean to waste your time," gabe rambled on as he sat down and dug his things back out.
his rambling actually made emma feel a little bad, especially because he looked so flustered like he ran all the way here from the rink. "it's fine. don't worry about it. i'm here all the time anyway," she shrugged him off to not make him feel as horrible.
"i respect the pjs," gabe commented on emma's flannel pj pants and boston college swimming sweatshirt that was definitely tyler's that she stole.
"oh, thanks. had to be comfortable, you know?" the blonde flushed some. gabe nodded in agreement.
"i did a few more problems, but i'm still kind of..lost, i guess. i dunno. i don't really know how what i'm doing wrong," he pushed his paper towards her feeling semi-embarrassed he couldn't do what should've been simple calculations and graphing.
"let me see," emma pulled the paper closer. she scanned her his work trying to find what the issue could be.
"hold on, i get it. you're not multiplying the right things which i think is giving you the wrong numbers. trying going row x row," emma instantly saw what was wrong.
gabe did as told and five minutes later, everything made a lot more sense than it did before.
"oh, i get it now. i was calculating wrong," he mumbled.
"see? easy fix. the other answers should make sense now," emma nodded, smiling.
"how are you so good at this? i feel like i'll never truly learn econ," gabe's gaze met hers again briefly before they both looked away.
"oh, i don't know. i've always been good at like math and stuff," doing math had always been emma's strong suit. growing up her friends always went to her when they were stuck on a problem.
"i wish i had that kind of talent. it's never made any sense to me," the boy mumbled, smiling successfully after completing all the other problems. "does this look right?"
emma glanced the page over, nodding, "yeah, looks good. the graphs are the hardest part i think because if you don't get those, everything's wrong."
"thanks, i appreciate the help. sorry again for being late," gabe met her gaze again—his eyes looked flushed and tired like he hardly ever slept. that feeling of pity returned in emma's stomach the longer she stared at him.
"it's no problem, really," her lips pushed together into a small smile.
"do you think i could text you again whenever i need more help in the class?" the boy wondered as he packed his things back up.
emma studied him again. those books about the athlete looking for help from the smart, quiet girl was seeming a little too real at the moment. the look on gabe's face though said otherwise like he wasn't trying to mess with her. he looked genuinely interested in the help she could provide him.
"why don't we like meet every other day or something and i can like tutor you. maybe help you understand the class a bit better?" the girl suggested which honestly sounded crazy coming out of her mouth because did she really have time to be tutoring this hockey player? apparently.
"like for real?"
"yeah like for real," emma laughed.
the smile on gabe's lips reappeared when he realized emma wasn't joking with him, "o-okay. yeah, thanks. i'd appreciate that. is it okay if we meet at 9 then? i would do earlier but i like don't have time."
"yeah, 9 works."
"i promise i'll try not to be late, but i can't promise it," the two shared a laugh.
"don't worry about it. see you in class then?"
"yeah, see you," her and gabe left the table together, giving slightly awkward waves to one another as they went in different directions to leave.
it was safe to say both of them didn't stop thinking about the other all night.
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