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holylulusworld · 3 months

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Unworthy (3)

Summary: Thor doesn’t think you‘re a good friend to his brother.

Pairing: AU!Thor Odinson x fem!Reader, AU!Loki Laufeyson x fem!Reader (platonic/best friends)

Warnings: past addiction, mentions of drug abuse/addiction (Loki), angst, classism, Thor being an ass, BBF trope, mentions of spiked drinks

Catch up here: Unworthy (2)

Unworthy masterlist

You’re furious. No, it’s more than that. Thor didn’t leave you and Loki alone. While your friend sleeps soundly in your bedroom, you argue with his stubborn brother.

“Let my brother go,” Thor grunts as you block his path. You refuse to let him inside your home. He ruined your career and opened old wounds. You won’t let him win this time.

“Would you lower your voice! Loki is still asleep. He needs to sleep his intrusive thoughts off. In a few hours, we will meet up with his sponsor. Thanks to you and your family, he almost had a relapse. Could you for once focus on what’s good for your brother?”

“I worry about my brother all the time,” Thor towers over you. He glares at you like you’re the bad guy in this story. Now, let me inside and I’ll bring him home.”

“Like hell,” you hold his gaze, not scared of his size and strength. “What do you want to do? Ignore his problem and pretend Loki isn’t an addict. He needs help, not ignorance. Now, get out of my sight. Duke will come around and talk to Loki. He needs people who understand and support him, not a brute forcing him to bend to his family’s will.”

Thor huffs. “I won’t let you decide on my brother’s fate. You’re a liar and…what do you know about addiction?”

You drop your eyes. “After what happened that night, I lost control over my life. He didn’t get punished because of his wealthy family. The cops and the nurse lied and let the proof disappear. And his family had the nerve to blame me. Suddenly, I was the one ruining their lovely and nice son's life. They framed me and…”

“…and?” Thor looks over your shoulder to glance inside your living room. “What did you do? Steal someone else’s brother.

“You’ll never understand the bond Loki and I share. We are both broken souls; left behind by the people who should stand by our side. No one to help you in times of need,” you lift your gaze to look him straight in the eyes. “People like you, the ones standing in the sun all the time can’t fathom how it feels standing in the shadows all the time.”

Thor swallows thickly when Loki steps inside the living room. His brother looks like he’s been through a lot last night. He hates to admit it, but you were right about Loki’s condition.

“Brother,” Loki steps toward the open door. “What are you doing here? I thought you got the message last night. I do not want to see you or your father ever again. Not if you don’t apologize to Y/N. She’s the only person caring for me and you had to ruin this for me. The only friend I have, you had to take her away from me.”

“That’s not what happened, brother,” Thor tries to argue. “I tried to protect you and tried to find out more about her. It’s not my fault she’s got a questionable past.”

“Questionable past,” Loki repeats Thor’s words. He squares his jaw before he shoves you out of his way to attack his brother.

“Loki! NO!” You wrap your arms around his waistline to hold Loki back. Loki looks slender but damn him, he’s stronger than he looks. “Idiot or not, he’s still your brother. I get that he doesn’t want me to hurt you. I’d do the same to protect you.”

“He’s a jealous bastard. I saw how he looked at you. My fine brother can’t take your rejection. All women must fall for him.” Loki fights you. He wiggles and grunts as you try to drag him off his brother.

“Loki, stop wiggling. Damn…shit…you’re like a snake,” you laugh as your friend threatens to scratch his brother’s eyes out. “Stop trying to slip out of my grasp.”

“I’ll defend your honor and punch his face. No woman will ever want to date him because I demolished his pretty face. That’s all he’s got to offer,” Loki can be a bitch if he wants to. He throws insults at his brother while you struggle to hold him back. “Oh, and his muscles. He shows them every woman he meets.”

“Uh-he tried to show them to me too, on my first day.”

“I knew it!” Loki made it. He slips out of your grasp to jump at his brother. The giant is taken aback by his brother’s attack and falls backward. He ends up on the ground, Loki on top of him.

“Guy, I don’t want to disturb whatever you’re doing there,” Duke clears his throat, “but we’ve got an appointment, and the group hates waiting. You know that Loki.”

“Duke…I can explain…I,” Loki gets up to straighten his shirt. He offers a tight smile. “Sorry. We’ve got a little overly excited about some news.” He lies. “Y/N, thank you for letting me sleep here. I’ll be back after the meeting if you’re having me.”

“Sure, darling,” you step over Thor, who's still lying on the ground to hug Loki. “My door is always open for you. Give me a call if you want me to pick you up.”

“I’ll drive him,” Duke says. “I think you and that guy on the ground have some things to discuss. Maybe before Loki comes back here.”

“Thanks, Duke.”

You get Loki’s jacket, and the spare keys you gave to him if he ever needs a place to stay. Thor still lies on the ground when you hug his brother and thank Duke again.

They leave together, chatting about the upcoming meeting while you look down at Thor lying on the ground. “You should go home now, Odinson. There is nothing here for you. Duke will help Loki now, and I’ll make sure he’s not going to relapse.”

You cross your arms over your chest, waiting for him to leave. “I’d love to leave this place, but I can’t get up.”

“Very funny,” you chuckle. “I didn’t know you can be funny too. Well, lie there all you want. I got better things to do. I won’t find a new job while babysitting you.”

“I didn’t joke,” Thor pants. He tries to roll to his side, and winces in pain. “It’s an old injury. Loki fucked my back up.”

You crouch down next to him, smirking as he glares back at you. “Aw, look at the fallen giant lying on the dirty floor.”

“Go ahead, make fun of me.”

“No,” you pat his chest. “Unlike you, I won’t hit where it hurts.” You kneel next to Thor to carefully check for injuries. “Do you need an ambulance, or can you get up with my help? I got a sturdy chair.”

“No ambulance,” he grits his teeth. “I…I got this.” Thor breathes through the pain. “I’ll try to get up.”

“Okay,” any other person would’ve told Thor to get fucked and slammed the door shut. You’re not any other person. Even though Thor is the worst, you won’t prove him right and leave him helpless and in pain. “I’ll get the chair and a pillow. If you are ready, I’ll roll you to your side. We’ll do it slow.”

“Hmm…” He eyes you up and down. “Maybe we should ask someone stronger for help. You look…”

“I held your brother back,” you huff. “I can help you get up. But, if you want someone else to help you, be my guest.”

“You’re annoying.”

“You’re an asshole,” you snap back. “Now that we clarified that we hate each other, we can get you up from the floor and out of my sight…”

“That wasn’t the plan,” you should’ve known better than helping Thor get up. Now he’s sitting on your couch, two pillows tugged behind his back. He watches you place the painkillers his private doctor described in front of him, along with a glass of water. “You cannot be around when Loki comes back. Not with these in your possession.”

When you point at the painkillers, Thor frowns. “It’s a simple painkiller, not hard drugs.”

You sigh, deep and exasperated. “You don’t get it, Thor. If Loki has a bad day, he’d drink mouthwash when it contains alcohol or swallow your whole bottle of painkillers. I don’t have pills, alcohol, or anything containing alcohol at my home to offer a safe environment to him.”

Thor furrows his brows. He never thought of hiding his booze or pills when his brother was around. “You’re very…thoughtful.”

“We need to get you out of here before Loki arrives. You should’ve taken your doctor’s offer and driven home with him.”

“I can just reside on your couch for tonight. My back will be better in the morning. I know my body…”

tags in reblog.

#thor odinson #thor odinson x reader #loki laufeyson #Unworthy (3)#thor odinson x you #female reader #x reader #business au

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emeraldiis · 3 years

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Falling for a God

A/N: Forgot to properly post/format this fic, so here ya go ya filthy animals (ok but i wrote it so I’m filthier)

AO3 Link

Pairing: Loki x Reader

Word Count: 7.1k

Rating: Explicit (18+)

Summary: “Tell me, does being touched by a god make you nervous? I can feel you quivering, are you afraid?” Loki pauses, then leans down until his lips are almost touching your ear. “Or is that arousal I sense?”You have a huge crush on Loki, there's lots of sexual tension, y'all fuck. That's the plot.

“Nat,” you whine. “I feel like you’re not even listening.” You prance to the front of her, spinning around to walk backwards.

Natasha rolls her eyes. “Wow, are you sure you aren’t pyschic?” She keeps up her brisk pace, and you nearly trip over yourself trying to keep up.

“That’s so rude!” You exclaim, but can’t hold back a giggle. Despite her cold demeanor, you know that Nat is just messing with you. Shooting a quick glance backwards, you decide that your path is clear, and return your gaze to your friend. “You’ll tell me if I’m about to run into something, right?”

With a wry grin, Natasha gives you a thumbs up. You beam at her. “Anyway,” you continue. “I started watching this new TV show last night, and it is so, totally awesome. There’s this guy, and he has these badass powers, and he’s fighting this girl, and she has-”

Thump.

A small oof escapes from your mouth as your back collides with something solid. You pitch forward in surprise, and yelp as you try to stabilize yourself before you fall. Large, warm hands grab your waist, tightening around you to keep you from toppling over. You sigh in relief as your frantic heart slows to a normal rhythm. “Wow, thanks,” you say, and spin around to reveal the identity of your saviour.

Piercing blue eyes meet yours, and your breath catches in your throat. “Careful, pet,” Loki murmurs softly, a sly grin spreading across his lips. His hands slide off of your waist, making contact with the sliver of skin between your shorts and your top on the way. An involuntary shiver creeps up your spine, and you bite your lip.

The reaction doesn’t go unnoticed by the ever-perceptive trickster, and his eyes flash with surprise. “Are my hands really that cold?” Loki teases. “Perhaps you could help me warm them up.” His tone is playful, but there’s something deeper underneath his banter that makes you think he’s actually flirting.

You can tell that your cheeks are red, and you choose not to respond to Loki’s question in fear of making an even bigger fool of yourself. A stammered apology tumbles from your lips, and you look back towards Natasha with a look of betrayal. She grins and shrugs. “I forgot to warn you. Oops.” Your mouth drops open. That scheming little devil. She knows about your crush on Loki, and she still allows you to make a fool out of yourself?

Your interactions with Loki were sparse, to say the least. Aside from a few casual conversations in a group, you had barely even talked to him. Still, he captivated you from the very first day he arrived at the compound. He was exactly your type; tall, dark, and brooding. Aside from Thor, most everyone gave Loki a wide berth, hesitant to forget the battle for New York. You, however, didn’t see a villain. You saw pain behind those blue eyes, and could empathize with Loki’s behavior. You knew all too well that it hurt to live in someone’s shadow, and sometimes acting out was a cry for help. Granted, Loki’s outbursts were far more drastic than yours had ever been, but it was more or less the same on a base level. And, the fact that he constantly had a witty remark on the tip of his tongue never ceased to entertain you. The man liked to hear himself talk, and damn, so did you.

It takes you a second to realize that you’ve been staring. You clear your throat awkwardly and look to the floor, eager to hide your discomfort. “Um, thank you for catching me,” you manage. When you look back up, Loki is wearing an odd expression. His pretty eyes are narrowed, searching your face. The scrutiny only embarasses you further. “Well, see you around!” WIth that, you dart around Loki and scurry off. Natasha follows you, snickering softly.

When you reach the common area, you plop yourself down on the couch and groan, throwing an arm over your face. Natasha sits down beside you. “Smooth,” she says, drawing out the word obnoxiously.

You remove your arm from over your eyes and give Natasha a withering look. “So not funny.”

Nat positively cackles at that. “Oh, come on,” she says. “He’d be an idiot to not at least have a thing for you, I mean, you’re smoking! ” She looks you up and down. “Nice rack, too.”

A giggle bursts from your lips. “Nat. Oh, my god. Stop objectifying me.”

Shaking her head, Natasha replies, “Me, objectify? I would never.”

That earns her an eye roll from you. “Sure. Anyway, can we please change the subject? I’m sick of talking about my embarrassing Loki crush.”

“What does ‘crush’ mean?”

You freeze. Now that was a distinct voice. “Thor,” you choke out. “When did you get here?”

Thor walks up behind the couch and swings himself over the back, making the poor piece of furniture creak in protest. He settles next to you, effectively sandwiching you between him and Natasha. “Just long enough to hear you discussing my brother. Now, will you please enlighten me on this strange Midgardian term?”

Before you can shut him down, Nat pipes up from the other end of the sofa. “It means she likes him. Romantically. Sexually. ”

The temptation to throw yourself onto the floor wailing is high. Instead, you opt to beg for your life. Still embarrassing, but slightly more productive than throwing a tantrum. “Nat!” You screech. You turn to Thor with pleading eyes. “Please, don’t say anything to him.”

Thor furrows his eyebrows. “What an odd expression. You’d think that the word “crush’ would be associated with something negative.” He places a big hand on your thigh. “If what Lady Natahsa says is true, then why would you not tell my brother? He is quite vain, you know. I’m sure he would be delighted to know that a beautiful woman is attracted to him!”

You groan and bury your face in your hands. These Asgardians will be the death of you. “It’s not that simple, Thor. What if he rejects me? I’d never be able to show my face around him again!”

There’s a pause, and then Thor asks you in a much gentler tone, “It seems as though you care for Loki a great deal more than you are letting on. Are you really afraid of embarrassment, or is it the heartbreak you fear?”

You’re glad that your hands are covering your face, because the way the color drains out of it at Thor’s question would have given you away. “No,” you mumble through your fingers. But he’s right, you do care for Loki more than you’d ever admit. His image ran through your head at night when you were trying to sleep, and his voice was what came to mind when your fingers were between your legs and you were pretending they were-

You rub at your eyes, then look up at Thor in desperation. “Please, if you really care about me as a friend, you’ll keep this secret.” You shoot a look at Natasha. “You, too. I may not be able to take Thor in a fight, but I could kick your ass.” You know you sound like a pathetic teenager, but you’re past the point of caring. You were perfectly happy admiring Loki from afar, and didn’t want to get your hopes up just to be met with shame.

Natasha scoffs. “As if.” Before she can continue. Thor holds up his hand.

“Lady Natasha, I believe we should stay out of this. I have done a great deal of meddling in my brother’s life, and I’ve learned that even the best intentions can cause disaster when Loki is involved.

“Thank you, Thor,” you say gratefully, relief evident in your voice. With a tired sigh, you hoist yourself up from the couch and turn to face your friends. “Well, I think I’ve had enough excitement for today. I’m going to hibernate, see you next spring.”

Natasha giggles and blows you a kiss goodbye while Thor scrunches up his face in confusion at your joke. Oh, well. Maybe he’d understand Midgardian humor one day.

Thunder rages outside your window while you toss and turn. You roll over to glance at your clock, and scowl when it flashes “3AM.” Giving up on the prospect of sleep, you opt for creeping to the kitchen for a midnight snack. Your bare feet pad down the carpet, and you shiver slightly at the cold air of the hall. Goosebumps rise on your bare legs and you start to regret your decision not to put on pants.

To get to the kitchen, you have to walk through the common area, and for a moment you linger just outside the entryway. There’s a soft glow coming from the corner of the room, and you mentally groan, hoping it’s one of the female inhabitants of the compound. You weren’t too excited at the idea of walking past one of the guys in just a sleep shirt and underwear. Still, your mission for food is not one you’re willing to give up on. Taking a deep breath, you step out of the hallway and into the room. And nearly pass out.

Across the room, perched in one of the loveseats, is Loki. He’s sitting with his legs curled underneath him, thumbing through a book. You consider darting back into the safety of the hall, but you’re too late. Loki has already noticed you, and is now staring far too intently for your liking. Suddenly feeling very exposed, you tug on the hem of your shirt, trying to pull it further down your legs. “Sorry to disturb you,” you whisper, afraid to break the deafening silence. Loki raises an eyebrow at you, then turns back to his book. You aren’t sure if you’re relieved or disappointed when his gaze leaves you.

Not wanting to linger in the entryway any longer, you make your way across the room, keeping your eyes down. As you pass Loki, a loud clap of thunder booms outside, and already being on edge, you yelp. Startled from the deafening sound in an otherwise quiet room, you stagger, falling backwards onto the loveseat. Right next to Loki. The sofa is small, and in your splayed out position, you’re almost half on top of the god.

Loki flinches away, and you immediately begin to apologize. “I am so sorry. I don’t know what happened, I guess I just lost my footing. Did I hurt you?” As you talk, you push yourself off of Loki and cower into the other side of the loveseat. Some more rational part of your brain urges you to get up, give him some more space, but you don’t listen. As embarrassed as you are, you’re not quite ready to give up this closeness to the object of your affection.

With a huff, Loki straightens himself and gives you a cool look. “You did not hurt me, mortal. I was simply surprised.” Then, having composed himself, he smirks and sets his book on the end table beside him. “I suppose it is only natural to have weak knees in the presence of a god.”

The comment lightens the mood, and you find yourself relaxing next to him. “You’re right, Thor’s thunder does make me a tad unsteady.”

At that, Loki stiffens, obviously having not expected you to return his teasing. For a brief moment, you feel proud. Then, something changes in his expression, and he scoots closer to you. His hand finds your bare thigh, and the contact sends butterflies through your stomach. Loki senses your restlessness and gives you a predatory grin. “Is that so? Are you telling me that this,” he squeezes your thigh, and you gasp. “Doesn’t make you feel...faint?” His voice is low, and he almost purrs the last few words.

You fight hard to keep your breathing even, not wanting to give away just how flustered you are. The heavy weight of his hand feels heavenly, and you can feel your panties grow damp. God, you hope he can’t smell it.

This predatory tone is so much different than the playful teasing that you usually receive from Loki. You’ve never seen his blue eyes so dark, and the unfamiliarity of it all tightens your stomach.

Taking your silence as a challenge, Loki presses himself even closer to you. His fingers creep up your leg, closer to your underwear. “Tell me, does being touched by a god make you nervous? I can feel you quivering, are you afraid?” Loki pauses, then leans down until his lips are almost touching your ear. “Or is that arousal I sense?”

Fuck. A full body shiver skates across your skin, and despite your best efforts, a small moan breaks free from your throat. Loki’s hand feels like a brand on your thigh, sending waves of heat up your body. The warmth pools between your legs, and you can’t help but shift a bit. Knowing that your panties are the only barrier between your soaking heat and the sofa, you arch your hips ever so slightly to keep from soiling the cushion.

Of course, your small movements don’t go unnoticed. Loki’s eyes are hooded as they rake across your bare legs, and you can hear his breathing get a bit heavier. He looks up at you, pupils dilated. “Oh, pet, look at you. Barely even touched, and already-”

He’s cut off by the sound of footsteps echoing through the hall, headed in your direction. Loki curses softly and reluctantly draws his hand away, then moves as far away as the small sofa allows. Your skin aches at the loss of contact.

The interrupting stranger’s footsteps approach the entrance to the common room, then carry on past. You let out the breath you didn’t know you’d been holding, thankful that you wouldn’t have to explain anything. Something tells you that, while there’s nothing going on now, sitting with Loki in the middle of the night might raise a few eyebrows.

You and Loki are alone again, but the moment has passed. Whatever spell that had overcome the two of you is gone, and all that’s left is a quiet room and a dim light. “I apologize, I believe I have overstepped,” Loki says, and for the first time, he sounds...unsure. His voice has lost that arrogant confidence that it normally carries, and he sounds like a child that has just been caught stealing cookies from the jar.

You bite your lip and risk a glance at Loki. He’s still pressed against the opposite arm of the loveseat, and is avoiding your eyes. Without the atmosphere of desire from before, now you just feel...awkward. Sighing softly, you rise to your feet and make your way to the hallway. You pause briefly in the entryway, and breathe out a “goodnight, Loki.” You don’t wait for a response, instead turning and trudging back towards your room.

As you flop back down in bed, you replay the night’s events over in your mind. It almost feels like a dream, and you’re having trouble believing that Loki, the God of Mischief, had actually come on to you. It didn’t seem plausible. You’re just a plain mortal, nothing special, no powers. Sure, your combat skills could rival Natasha’s, but besides that, you can’t find anything about yourself that would attract a god.

Eventually, you decide that maybe Loki was just horny, and you were in the right place at the right time. You did walk out without pants on, after all. No matter the reasoning, you know not to expect a repeat occurrence, given how regretful he had seemed afterwards. Tears brim in your eyes as the reality of the situation hits you; Loki regrets touching you. It seems that your crush was one-sided, and even though you weren’t surprised, that didn’t mean it didn’t hurt.

Things are tense around the compound. You creep around corners, terrified of accidentally finding yourself in the same room as Loki. And it seems that Loki is taking the same precautions, because you haven’t even seen a glimpse of him since that night. The ache in your heart from his rejection still keeps you up at night, and you still find yourself pining over him like a lovesick idiot.

Ever the observer, Natasha catches on quickly. “Are you really still embarrassed about bumping into Loki?” She asks after cornering you in the kitchen. “You’re not acting like yourself, and it is beyond obvious something is bothering you.”

You groan at her around a mouthful of a granola bar. “Are you really still thinking about it?” You counter.

Nat rolls her eyes. “Please, it’s hard to pretend it didn’t happen when you’re playing this stupid cat and mouse game. I see you check every room for him, I can’t believe you even care that much. He barely even touched you!”

A piece of your snack shoots down your throat with your gasp. You double over, wheezing and coughing. Natasha slaps a hand on your back, sighing. When you finally catch your breath, you glare at Nat. “Yeah, maybe that’s the issue.”

You immediately regret your words as a fire lights itself in Natasha’s eyes. “Want me to help?”

“Nat, hold on. No thanks-”

“Shush, trust me!” To your dismay, Natasha is already on her way out of the kitchen when she finishes hushing you. You whimper out a half-baked protest, but your friend is long gone by the time the words leave your mouth. Fuck, you’re so screwed.

LIfe was very quickly becoming a stressful game of hide and seek. You’d resorted to spending most of the day in your room, hoping to avoid Loki, and more importantly, Natasha. You’re not sure what she has planned, but it can’t be anything good. As weeks pass by with no incident, however, you begin to drop your guard. Maybe she’s taking pity on you.

It’s around noon when you get the text. It’s an all caps message from Nat, pleading with you to at least hear her out before saying no.

That’s a terrifying text. I’m listening.

Nat: I may have bragged my way into a drinking contest with Thor, and I need a teammate to make it fair.

You want to try and outdrink Thor????

Nat: I want US to outdrink him. I convinced him that it’d be more balanced if it was 2 to 1.

You owe me.

Nat: :)

It was a terrible idea, but maybe a nice night of getting hammered is just what you need to break you out of your funk. Despite your initial reluctance, you find yourself getting excited. You hadn’t really relaxed in ages, this would be a good thing.

As the hours pass, you start to get nervous. It’s been so long since you’ve gotten properly drunk, and you seriously doubt you’ll be able to keep up with even Natasha. Still, a promise is a promise, and you have far too much pride to chicken out now.

The clock reaches nine o’clock, and you sigh. Showtime. Before leaving your suite, you set several glasses of water and a bottle of Advil on your nightstand. If you’re going to fuck over your future self, you might as well try to ease her pain. You take a deep breath and spare a glance over at the mirror against your bedroom wall. You had opted for something comfy, but cute; an emerald green dress that stopped just above your mid-thigh, and fell off of one shoulder effortlessly.

Okay, so maybe you had wanted to get a tiny bit dressed up. You’re sure Nat will tease you for it, but sometimes a girl just wants to feel pretty.

A bit breathless from those pre-competition nerves--yes, a drinking contest was that serious--you make your way to the kitchen. As you round the corner, you stop dead in your tracks. Sitting at the bar Tony had insisted on installing, is Nat and Thor, of course. But next to them, perched delicately on one of the stools, is Loki. He wears a look of disdain, as if this entire competition is beneath him. You hope he can’t tell how badly you want to be beneath him.

Natasha gives you a wicked grin as Thor waves you over, his smile far more innocent-looking than Nat’s, though you’re sure he had a part in this. Cursing your terrible friends under your breath, and yourself for falling for it, you trudge over. Naturally, the only stool left is the one on the end, directly next to Loki. You gingerly hoist yourself up and slide onto the seat.

You stubbornly keep your eyes on the counter, not daring to even glance up at Loki. It’s obvious from the way he’s angling himself away from you and towards his brother that he’s regretting that night, and doesn’t want to be near you. You don’t blame him, humans must seem like animals compared to gods. The reality is that you were a mistake to him, and you just needed to accept that and move past.

Breaking the awkward silence, Thor produces a jug of what looks like beer from god knows where. He grins and gestures to it grandly. As he opens his mouth to speak, you cut him off. “Hold up! I thought this was two against one? Loki being here makes it unfair.”

Natasha rolls her eyes at you. “Yeah, I may have bent the truth to get you to come out. It’s teams of two, but we have a handicap. Our drinks and shots count as twice the actual amount, and they’ll be drinking Asgardian mead. So,” She smirks. “No more complaints, let’s do this shit.”

You swallow nervously at the mention of shots. You could hold your liquor fairly well, but you and shots had...history. Nat knew how touchy you got when you were drunk, and how much of an oversharer you tended to be. Though you have to admit that her plan is almost flawless, you’re still unimpressed with her shenanigans. She’s pretty much set you up to embarrass yourself.

You twiddle your thumbs in your seat as Natasha grabs a bottle of Svedka from behind the bar and begins to pour the beginning drinks. Following her lead, Thor pops open his jug and splits it between two large glasses, then passes one to Loki, who sighs in apparent boredom. He shoots you an unreadable look, then grabs one of the shot glasses that Natasha filled and slides it your way.

With a mumbled “thanks,’ you gingerly take the glass, and look at Nat and Thor. Thor raises his glass. “May the better warriors win!” He announces, then tips back his glass. You roll your eyes at the word choice, but bring the shot glass to your lips and throw your head back. The liquor goes down rough, but you manage to keep your poker face and grit your teeth against any retches.

“The lady can drink!” Thor bellows, wiping at his face.

You shrug, wanting the spotlight off of you. “Um, I went to college?”

Before Thor can question you, Natasha cuts in. “Hello? I took it just as well, where’s my applause?”

“Natasha, you are not a lady,” Loki deadpans. Nat glares and pours herself another shot in response, throwing back the second one just as easily as she had the first. She then points at you. You can’t help the laugh that bubbles up. Despite everything, Loki was still Loki, and he still had your heart. It seems that the tension between you and Loki dissolves after you laugh at his quip, and he relaxes his stiff posture.

You sigh in relief and reach for the bottle to refill your own glass. This time, it goes down easier. That is, until the burns travels past your stomach, right down to between your legs. You squirm in place at the unexpected burst of arousal. Still, you should have been ready for it. Alcohol has always gotten you a little worked up. It was your mistake to believe you could fight it.

Despite the setback, you keep up with your teammate as the night goes on. Shot after shot, broken up by the easy conversation that emerges as the liquor continues to flow.

You’re not sure when the competition was forgotten, but you soon find yourself splayed on the couch next to Loki, laughing hysterically at some story he’s just finished telling about Thor in his youth. You look over at him, hazily trying to center your double vision to properly admire the god. His cheeks are flushed red from the alcohol, and he looks more relaxed than you’ve ever seen him.

Loki glances over, catching you staring, but you’re far too intoxicated to be embarrassed. Instead, you hold your gaze, waiting for a reaction. Loki smirks, then eyes his brother with annoyance.

“Brother,” he says, voice a lazy drawl. “I believe we’ve won this contest, wouldn’t you say?”

Thor cocks his head, then widens his eyes in understanding. “Oh, certainly! In fact, I think it would be necessary for me to walk you back to your quarters, Natasha.”

Natasha begins to protest, but it dies on her lips as her gaze flickers between you and Loki. “What a gentleman,” she purrs, only swaying slightly when she rises from her seat. “Lead the way.” Taking his outstretched hand, Natasha stumbles down the hall with Thor, giggling excitedly.

Now that it’s just the two of you, you expect things to get awkward, but find that you’re still just as comfortable. “Well, I guess I have to bow to the drinking champ,” you slur, sitting up to give a half hearted bow.

Loki throws his head back and laughs. “You,” he manages between snorts, “are far more fun to be around than most others on this planet.”

You scoff and wave your hand dismissively. “You’re only saying that ‘cause I bowed to you.” Chewing on your lip, you let your eyes drift back over to Loki. In your drunken haze, he just looks so...comfy. Before you realize what you’re doing, you slide over to lean up against him. Loki’s surprisingly warm, and you sigh contentedly, letting your mind wander back to how his hand felt running up your thigh.

The arousal from earlier that you had forgotten about rears its head, turning your sigh into a shaky exhale that is not at all subtle. The air feels thick, just like it had on that one stormy night, and you press yourself closer to Loki, unable to resist how good his body feels against yours.

Loki freezes for a moment, then seems to force himself to relax into you. His arm snakes around you until he’s holding you comfortably against his side. For one brief moment, you start to wonder if this is a good idea, given how things had ended in the past, but the intoxicated part of your brain tells the sober part to go fuck herself, and then you’re speaking without thinking. “Do you want to walk me to bed?”

Oh, shit. You can’t believe that just came out of your mouth. A wave of sobering panic hits you, and you untangle yourself from Loki and shoot up from the couch. Before you can flee, however, a pale hand grabs hold of your arm, stopping you in place.

Loki gets up, then moves his grip from your wrist to your hand. “I think that is a lovely idea. Allow me?” With the hand that isn’t holding yours, he gestures toward the hall. Well, that was unexpected. You try not to giggle in child-like excitement, and instead nod hurriedly.

Your heart speeds up at the feel of his hand in yours, and you start off down the hall, letting Loki pull you towards your suite. Caught up in trying to navigate the titling floor, you don’t notice that you’re being led the wrong way until the two of you come to a stop at a door that definitely does not belong to you. You look up at Loki in confusion. “This isn’t my room.”

“I know,” Loki growls, then opens the door and whirls you both inside. When you’ve recovered from the swift movement, you manage to pull away from Loki’s grip.

“What-what’s going on?” You say, attempting to sound stern. Loki stalks towards you. Instinctively, you back up, until you’re pressed against the wall with Loki boxing you in.

Loki presses his hands to the wall on either side of your head and sneers at you. “What’s going on?” He mocks. “I’ve craved your body under mine since long before our little nighttime meeting, and I have run out of patience for games.” He leans in and presses a kiss to your neck, grazing you with his teeth. Just like before, his playfulness has given way to a domineering aura, but you’re not complaining one bit.

You barely suppress a full body shiver. “But,” you protest weakly. “I, I thought you regretted it. I mean, you never said anything about it, so I figured...oh…” you trail off into a soft moan as Loki roughly licks up the side of your neck, growling.

“And when would I have gotten the chance?” Loki pulls away from his assault on your skin to look you in the eyes. “You have been avoiding me for nearly a month.” Those blue eyes are staring daggers at you, and you realize that there’s hurt behind all that frustration.

Your mouth goes dry. He’s right, but the eye contact from his smoldering stare is making you forget how to speak. Fumbling with your words, you cast your gaze downwards. “Yeah, I guess I have. But with what you said after we were interrupted....I thought you were uncomfortable with what happened.”

A dark chuckle spills from Loki’s lips. “The only discomfort you have caused me is the nights I have spent spilling over my own hand because I could not have you. ”

You gasp softly as Loki’s words send a wave of heat through your overheated body. Loki takes that as encouragement, and presses himself closer until his lips are grazing yours. “Tell me you don’t want this and I’ll leave,” he mumbles, eyes hooded.

Your response is to surge forward, hands flying to the back of his head as you roughly pull him in to kiss you. You both groan at the contact. The kiss is anything but gentle; your fingers are tangled in Loki’s hair, tugging harshly, and you can feel his teeth nipping at your bottom lip. It was far better than you could have imagined, and the dizzying pleasure of it all has you feeling drunker and more sober at the same time.

Before long, the room spins as Loki lifts you and hoists your legs around his waist. He kisses you breathless as he walks slowly down the hall towards what you can only assume is his bedroom. There’s a giddy part inside of you that squeals with excitement at being carried like that, but it’s quickly overshadowed by lust as you and Loki reach his bedroom. He tosses you onto his king sized bed like a doll, then kneels on the floor and yanks your ankles until your bottom is almost hanging off the bed.

Loki slides your dress up and nuzzles the inside of your thigh. “I could smell your arousal the entire night,” he says, nearly purring. “May I taste?”

You sit up on your elbows and stare down at him, face flushed with mild embarrassment at his face so close to your soaked panties. Dumbly, you nod, words failing you. Loki growls his appreciation and hikes up your dress, taking a brief moment to admire the soft fabric. “You look absolutely ravishing in green, I’ve wanted to tear this off of you since the moment I laid eyes on it.” And then he’s sliding your panties down your legs and plunging his tongue into your heat.

A ragged gasp tears its way from your throat and you throw your head back. You feel the grin form on Loki’s lips against your skin, and a fresh gush of arousal flows down your thighs. Loki eats pussy like it’s an art form he’s been perfecting for ages. His lips tug at your pussy, worshipping every fold like it’s the last meal he’ll ever have. You open your mouth to make some joke about his silvertongue, but all that comes out is a pathetic whimper as Loki drags his teeth lightly across your clit.

It isn’t long before the pleasure reaches its peak.You fight hard to keep your legs from clamping around Loki’s head, but you can’t help it when you crest over the edge of orgasm. Your muscles lock up, your back arches, and you scream. White hot euphoria explodes from your core, spreading through your body like venom. Loki’s tongue works you through it, slowing to wide, long strokes as you begin to come down.

You’ve barely recovered when Loki rises from his knees and crawls up your body, coming to a stop when his face is inches from yours. His eyes are hooded, and his glistening lips are parted to allow frantic, heated pants to escape. “Pet,” he hisses, leaning down to nuzzle into your shoulder. “You taste sweeter than the fruits of Asgard.” He bites at your collarbone, making you shudder in your post-orgasmic haze.

Still out of it, you sluggishly fumble at Loki’s belt. “Wanna make you feel good, too,” you mumble and lick your lips. Loki bats your hand away, shushing you.

“Darling, there will be plenty of time for that later. Right now, I need to feel you.” He grabs your shoulders and drags you up to the pillows, so that you’re lying comfortably on your back with him hovering above you.

Your heart skips a beat at the mention of ‘later.’ So this wasn’t just a one-night stand? You don’t have time to process that, however, as Loki barely gives you a moment to breathe. He sits back on his knees, straddling your waist, and with a wave of his hand, you’re both stark naked. Your hands twitch, wanting to cover yourself. Being naked in front of an attractive man has always intimidated you, but the fact that Loki was a god made it worse. As if sensing your sudden shyness, Loki leans in to kiss at lick at your breasts, and brings his hands up to pin your wrists to the bed. You sigh in pleasure, insecurity fading with every hot swipe of his tongue, not even wanting to struggle against his hold.

Loki lowers himself to grind against you. His hard cock slides against your dripping folds as his narrow hips press into yours. Both of you shiver, and you arch your hips to bring him closer. Loki growls against your skin and sits up. He lets go of your wrists, roughly grabs your waist and angles it to meet his. “Ready, pet? I can’t wait, I need to have you.” he breathes, eyes locked on yours.

Like a deer in the headlights, you’re frozen, anticipation coiling tightly under your skin. Slowly, you nod. Loki wastes no time. He smirks, then slides himself into you, the stretch burning in the loveliest way. Your heated groan mingles with his, and when Loki’s hips come to rest against yours, he falls against your chest, panting. You appreciate the time he gives you to adjust; Loki’s cock is thick, and longer than anything you’ve ever taken, and you can feel it throbbing desperately within you. Now that he’s released your hands, you bring them up to thread through his soft, black hair. He closes his eyes and leans into your touch, nearly purring.

“Tell me when, love,” Loki grits out, fighting to keep his voice steady. The shakiness in his usually smooth tone is arousing to no end, and you can feel yourself clench around him in approval. Loki’s hips twitch at the fluttering of your walls, and though you’re more than ready, you decide to torture him a bit longer.

You bring your legs up to wrap around Loki’s waist, pulling him closer. He shivers, but keeps his composure, remaining almost statue still. His concern for your comfort makes your heart swell, but you want to see him lose control. “You’re so big,” you whimper out, the alcohol in your system quelling the embarrassment you’d usually feel when talking dirty. You press your face into Loki’s neck, grazing your teeth along the pale skin there.

With a deep growl of barely kept composure, Loki rises up to rest on his elbows, desperate eyes searching yours. It seems that being the God of Lies gave Loki the ability to see through your cruel game, and his expression turns dark, though the neediness is still blatant. You shift nervously as he stares you down, already regretting your mischievousness. “Feeling playful, are we?” Loki asks.

Your mouth goes dry at being caught and your core tightens around him again, earning you a flutter of his eyelids. “I…” you trail off, eyes drifting to Loki’s parted lips. Watching you gaze, Loki grins at you.

“Oh, pet. I think you may be confused. You are mine to toy with, not the other way around.” With that, Loki leans down to crush his lips into yours. His tongue forces its way into your mouth and you whine around it. While his tongue’s distracting you, Loki takes his chance to begin pounding into you at a ruthless pace, and you break away from the kiss to throw your head back and shriek out a moan.

You feel utterly wrecked, stomach clenching and nerves alight with pleasure as Loki continues his assault on your body. Your eyes are squeezed shut, so his teeth nipping at your jaw come as a surprise, sending a whole new shockwave of sensation down your neck.

“You feel so fucking good, pet,” Loki moans, his voice quickly losing its characteristic steadyness. He sighs out something that sounds suspiciously like a whimper, and brings one of his hands down to toy with your clit. Your legs tighten around him involuntarily. “A-ah, fuck,” Loki grits out, increasing his pace.

The pleasure is overwhelming, and the unhuman speed at which Loki’s pounding into you leaves you no time to catch your breath. Moans and whines erupt from your mouth in a constant stream, and Loki keeps his mouth hovering above yours to drink them in. “I wanna cum,” you whimper as Loki’s assault on your senses continues.

“Then cum, pet,” Loki groans, hips stuttering. “ Cum for your god.”

You keen, writhing and chasing your high. As you climb up to your orgasm, you are met with a startling realization that Loki has already ruined you for anyone else. No human man could match the fire that he’s set upon your nerves, the blinding pleasure that mounts with every thrust and kiss. With that settling into your mind, you finally reach your second peak of the night.

Your eyes try to flutter shut, tears brimming at the corners as you wail Loki’s name again and again. Through the haze of your climax, you notice Loki’s muscles begin to tense as he nears his orgasm as well, and you force your eyes to stay open in order to watch him come apart.

Watching Loki cum is almost like a second climax. He speeds up impossibly, mouth hanging open and eyes barely able to stay focused on you. “You’re mine,” he growls out. Choked moans fall from his lips as he nears the edge, and you rake your nails down his back to encourage him.

“Cum in me, please, I need it, make me yours” you ramble breathlessly.

“Oh, fuck, I-I’m so close,” Loki manages, voice breaking. You continue to coo pleas and encouragements at him, and the way his eyes roll back at your wrecked voice gives you an intoxicating rush of pride. Finally, with a whimpering moan, Loki stills, cock pulsing within you and hips twitching as he pumps you full of his cum.

Loki slumps against you, still moving in aborted little thrusts, as if he can’t quite stop fucking you just yet. The weight of him on top of you is heavy, but not unwelcome, and you take the time to bask in the euphoria of having just slept with the god you’d pined after for so long.

“That was…” you start, words failing you.

“Divine,” Loki finishes for you. He slides his cock out of your pussy, and with it comes a gush of warm cum that you’re sure will stain the sheets. He rolls off of you, then guides you onto your side so that he can pull you up against him.

You weren’t expecting Loki to be the ‘cuddling after sex,’ type, so having him spoon you was surprising, to say the least. He nuzzles his nose into your hair, and you find yourself wanting to fall asleep like that; comfortable in his bed and safe in his strong arms.

Still, there’s a nagging question that won’t let you fully relax. Not wanting to expect too much, you brace yourself for the worst and open your mouth to speak. “Loki...what does this mean for us?”

Loki tenses behind you, and your heart breaks at the assumed rejection as he begins to pull away. “Are you...are you not mine? I thought this was-I’m sorry, I must have misunderstood. Forgive me.”

This time, your heart breaks for a different reason. Loki sounds so hurt, so unsure of everything, and you can hear a scared little boy behind that velvet voice. “No!” You nearly shout, turning around to pull him back to you. “I want to be yours, I promise,” you say as you tug Loki back into your arms, running a soothing hand down his back. “I just wasn’t sure if that’s what you wanted.”

The relief in Loki is visible as he relaxes into you. “Love, I am yours as much as you are mine, do not doubt that.”

The pet name brings a smile to your lips. “I wouldn’t have it any other way,” you reply happily. Heart full, you roll back over so that Loki can snuggle into you again, and finally let your drowsiness overtake you. You catch a faint, ‘I love you,’ just before you drift off to sleep, and though it could just be your mind playing tricks on you, you know that you love him, too.

#loki x reader #loki imagine #loki laufeyson #smut #fanfiction #the loki show

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sunkcost · 2 years

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On Jimmy being willing to change himself to however Kim wants, it really hurts my feelings that those lines are almost the exact same as when he’s begging Chuck in “Nacho” (I’d also add to the pile Inflatable where he actually admits he tries to be what they want, and the Fall commentary where they said he steals costuming and lines from everyone else). Like I’m not trying to woobify, but fuck he deserves a little peace with himself, and not just hiding behind a loud and colourful mask.

no, i'm totally with you. there's something so sad about jimmy's desperation for acceptance. i think that's one of the major contributing factors in how he reaches this point. he's constantly chaffing against people's expectations but he also cares so much about what other people think of him. he wants to be wanted. i really never stop thinking about that peter gould quote saying walt turned out to be driven by a desire for power but jimmy's always been driven by a need for approval and acceptance and it's something he never quite gets. i think that one of jimmy's major problems is that he is so fixated on how people see him, even as he doesn't want to be. it's the same problem he has with morality, really, that he's too caught up in external justification.

trying to refrain from getting too into the weeds on it, but if the show is in many ways about the non-existence of objective morality, the idea that there are things which can be existentially proven to be right or wrong, then there's something really perfect about how jimmy's need for external approval is so tied up in his struggle with identity. looking at morality from an existential perspective, the idea is really that if you cannot objectively prove things to be wrong or right then justifying your actions is fundamentally impossible. there's no logical foundation to base your argument on because the ideas of 'wrong' and 'right' themselves are ideological constructs. they only mean as much as you decide to allow them mean. therefore, the idea is more about acting in good vs. bad faith than being wrong or right, deciding what you personally believe to be correct or incorrect courses of action, knowing there's nothing objective to dictate that decision and that you cannot justify it to anyone else. all that to say, jimmy steps outside the law, the socially agreed upon idea of morality, but he isn't ever really able to give up the need to justify his actions to other people. he has left the social standard of moral acceptance but he doesn't have the internal conviction to stand by his decisions when they aren't understood by other people.

i think he has the same problem with identity. he doesn't want to live his life defined by societal norms but he also can't deal with the fact that people reject him when he steps outside of them. there's a constant tension between him not wanting to conform and him wanting to be wanted. he has an identity in there somewhere, i do believe that, but his identity is incompatible with his need for acceptance and so he gets stuck in this awful place in the middle where no one understands or accepts him and he doesn't understand or accept himself. that is my very longwinded way of saying that i completely agree. to me it feels like the only way he can really move forward is to start relying on internal conviction instead of external validation. he has to give up on being accepted, which for him i think is an extremely difficult thing to do. at the same time, there is something about him going from jimmy, a person torn between being who he is and being who people want him to be, to saul, who is neither who he is nor who people want him to be, to gene who is, like he says, a shadow or a ghost, not really a person at all.

i also think it kind of has to do with observation. saul is about controlling how people look at him, even if negatively. on the surface it seems to be about giving up on what people think of him, but i think it's the opposite. i think it's nothing but an awareness of how people think of him, and it's at once an attempt to control it (he can't make them love him but he can make them hate him), and to punish himself (he's existing in his own personal hell, a world where no one understands him and no one wants him). gene is also something like that, but different as well. saul is like a perversion of jimmy, all the things people dislike about him taken to the extreme, playing into their preexisting perceptions even as they don't actually reflect what he wants or who he is. gene is totally average, accepted by people, but not in a real way, because no one knows him well enough for the acceptance to mean anything. jimmy's real identity is still somewhere inside of him but it's not perceived by anyone and so he remains unknown and unwanted. that's a big part of the reason why i don't think further punishing jimmy is the best outcome for the series. it feels like the trajectory of his identity has pushed him to a point where he could either disappear entirely or realize his identity as something outside of other people's perceptions. to me that feels like the only way to stabilize his struggles with morality and identity.

#better call saul #i mean honestly what i think is really interesting about jimmy vs a character like walt #is that i think jimmy's actions have already had consequences #and not just external consequences #he's already essentially died #like what he did destroyed him #and so continuing to punish him just feels so unsatisfying #there's hardly anything left to punish you know #i don't want to see him face more consequences i want him to be able to come out of this a whole person #the real jimmy mcgill that got buried under all the desperation and doubt #even before saul #because i think the real jimmy mcgill is a good person #whatever that identity is i think it's good #but it's never been in total control of his choices #he's always been halfway driven by what other people want

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atlas-of-a-human-soul · 3 years

Text

Draw your swords, pt. 10

Summary: Haunted by her own mind, Y/N isn’t sure what to do with the information she uncovered. On the other hand, the Darkling felt a growing distance between them, allowing himself to admit something he never thought he’d say.

Warnings: angst, swearing, fluff, sexual innuendos

Part one // Part two // Part three // Part four // Part five // Part six // Part seven // Part eight // Part nine

=================================

A long time ago lived a young boy with the power of saints. He held the darkness at the tip of his fingers, capable of forcing the day into an eternal night. Back then, he made all the wrong choices for all the right reasons. To protect the ones he loves, he allowed the shadows to consume him. Cursed with immortality, he walked the earth ever since. Forever alone, hurt and betrayed, the Darkling's heart no longer beat as it turned to stone. No longer did he suffer, no longer did he feel pain or anything at all.

Until now.

There was no escape from emotions when he looked at her. Even in the darkness, she had the ability to set his world on fire.

A single badly made decision in a moment where everything feels more important than love can make your entire life feel like a failure. He would never make the same mistake again.

This lifetime he gives to her – wholeheartedly.

When they stopped for the night, he had felt uneasy as Y/N conversed freely with everyone but him. It seemed like she’s on edge and not knowing why gnawed at him. Once night came and they settled in their tent, the Darkling couldn’t contain himself.

"I sense some...hostility."

Scoffing, she rolled her eyes, "Oh, how observant of you."

"What happened?” He asked, “Did someone at the Palace do something to you? Was it Genya?"

"And what if she did?” Tilting her head ever so slightly, she neared him. “What would you do?"

Without thinking, he answered, "I'd protect you."

Inhaling sharply, she raised an eyebrow. "And what if it was you?"

Pausing, his eyebrows furrowed as he unclenched his jaw. "Is it me?"

"If it was you who upset me, would that bother you?" Y/N pushed further, genuinely wondering if he cares for her as much as she thinks. After all, who’d believe the Darkling has a heart? She was still trying to convince herself it’s real when he kisses her temple when he thinks she’s fast asleep.

"Immensely."

With her hands on her hips, she narrowed her eyes at him. "So, how would you protect me from yourself?"

Letting out a heavy sigh, Aleksander ran his hand through his hair. "I'd let you decide."

Closing her eyes in frustration, her lower lip curled inwards as her front teeth sunk into the flesh. A part of her wanted to ask him about being the creator of the fold, but it was an advantage that would be unwise to let go of.

"Why are you being so agreeable? Is it because I spread my legs for you now?"

"I've never known you to be so crude." The muscles in his jaw tighten as he squints at her and it’s taking everything in her not to smile because she absolutely loved when he’d look at her like that. It felt more natural than the soft, wistful looks he’d send her way.

"And I never realized you could be so easily tamed”, she remarks, her voice louder than before.

Chuckling in disbelief, the Darkling shrugs off his kefta without breaking eye contact. "You believe that you've tamed me?"

Pinching the bridge of her nose, she shut her eyes. Her face is flushed, her head spinning and she has nothing concrete to tell him. She can’t make sense of anything anymore, the image of him in her head changing with every passing minute.

"I don't know what to believe anymore."

In two strides, Aleksander found himself before her. Cupping her cheeks, he tilts her head up to face him and when she opens her eyes, she’s lost in the universe that’s captured in his eyes. She loved the night sky littered with stars, but she never truly knew what it means to stargaze until she met him.

“I’ve discovered I love you.”

Raising her eyebrows, her jaw slacked. “When have you discovered that?” Her voice is high, tone defensive, but his smile grows because it wouldn’t be her if she didn’t fight him even when he’s trying to admit to something he long forgot exists.

“When all my decisions started to revolve around keeping you safe.”

Shaking, her eyes widened. “That’s impossible! You hate me!”

Placing a hand over her mouth, he used his other to press his index finger to his lips. “Shh”, he chuckles, “You’ll wake the others.”

Rolling her eyes, she licked his hand.

“Really? I’ve touched you in a way that made you scream long into the night”, he deadpans, “Your tongue can’t possibly disgust me.” Smirking, he leans in, “On the contrary.”

Slapping his hand away, she turned away from him. Grabbing her head, she sat down with her thoughts running so fast, too fast for her to pick one out to decide what she thinks, feels, wants.

Wrapping his arms around her, he pulled her back flush against his chest. “I know you hate me now, but I’m a patient man. I won’t give up on you.”

He held her for a while, too long for either of them to realize the night had slowly trickled away from them and given way to dawn. Their journey wasn’t quite as long anymore. Soon enough, they’ll be at the fold and Y/N didn’t know what to do.

Should she tell him? Ask him for an explanation?

Would he kill her even if he said he loves her?

She still felt his kisses as he laid her down beside him. For the first time since they made love, they didn’t initiate any physical intimacy. Instead, they simply stared at one another.

She’s not for feeble minded people, there’s no doubt about it in his mind and if anything, Aleksander was more determined to love her because of it. She tested him in every way possible and while she was incredibly frustrating to argue with, Aleksander refused to give up on her. She’s difficult to understand to ordinary minds, but he isn’t ordinary.

His love will conquer in the end, he truly believed that. He could have continued on like nothing changed between them, but he could not be silent any longer. After all the time he’s spent in vein, all the years he wasted and lives he’s lived, Aleksander never found someone who gave him a reason to believe. Not until he met Y/N.

While she remained silent, stunned by his admission, he spoke of the day he first met Ivan and Fedyor. He spoke of their adventures, of their silly mistakes and she found herself smiling at first. Soon, she was laughing with him, and though she had no courage to admit it yet, she fell asleep thinking about him. Their knees were touching and her heart was racing, but the world never felt so right as it did when she was next to him.

Once on the road, she took the reins once again.

Kirigan ignored the whispers about her riding his horse, choosing to glare them into silence. No one dared to speak of it after.

Stopping a few miles short of their destination, Y/N drew a shuddered breath. The sight is hauntingly beautiful, a nightmare come alive. Swallowing thickly, a faint line formed between her eyebrows as they furrowed.

How could Aleksander be the Black Heretic? How is it possible for him to live so long?

“I’m here”, he whispers in her ear.

Goosebumps rise across the back of her neck as his warm breath dances across her skin. And there he is again, with her when she’s looking for solitude, offering his hand to hold and shoulder to lean on even when she least expects it. The worst thing is that she’s actually becoming dependent on his help and that scares her most of all, because what is she supposed to do when he decides he never did love her and all of it was simply an obsession fueled by her rejection.

She’s still a novelty to him, that will wear off eventually.

“I’m not afraid”, she remarks, “I’m-“, she pauses in an attempt to find a better word, “Admiring it.”

“Admiring”, he repeats in surprise. “Most people find it absolutely terrifying.”

She wondered if it frightened him. What would happen if he went in?

Turning her head to the side, she caught a glimpse of his parted lips. She felt ashamed how it caused her heartbeat to quicken, how it ached for a taste.

“I’m not most people”, she reminded him. And he knew that well. The Darkling would never fall for an ordinary woman.

“What I want to know is what went through his mind”, she grips the reigns tighter.

“Of the black heretic?”

Feeling his hands tighten around her waist, she nods. “I wish I knew what led to the creation of the fold. Why did he do it?”

“Maybe he just couldn’t help himself”, Aleksander’s voice is strained, “Maybe he’s just pure evil.”

Leaning the back of her head on his shoulder, she looked up at him. She longed for him, for an earnest conversation with their souls laid bare, but would she live long if she unveiled what her mind’s been tormented by?

“I don’t believe that”, she says softly.

Their eyes meet in an instant, the closeness forcing them both to hold their breath and look at each other silently. Looking at her, he touched her cheek gently with the back of his hand.

“Why give him the benefit of doubt?”

Aleksander’s free hand gently moves along her arm, finding its rightful place at the side of her neck, touching her skin so tenderly she felt blissful and it reminded her of that night where he unraveled her, made her scream in pleasure she never found before.

There was no denying it, Y/N had a weakness for his hand on her neck and his words in her heart, neither of which she had any willpower to refuse, especially not when she couldn’t breathe when he looked at her with such longing, shameful lust and indisputable passion and understanding.

It took everything in her to find the strength to speak again without her voice cracking under the pressure of her own emotions.

“Because darkness doesn’t equate evil, just as light doesn’t equate good.”

Without a warning, he kissed her fiercely, violently, leaving her raw. She didn’t move away, she didn’t make a sound. All she did was close her eyes and part her lips and in that fraction of a second, she allowed herself to get lost in the beauty of a lover’s touch for when his lips claimed hers, nothing mattered anymore.

When he broke away, she was breathless and undeniably his.

“What was that for?” She raised an eyebrow, a shadow of a smile forming on her bruised lips.

She shuddered, her teeth sinking into her bottom lip ruthlessly as Aleksander’s breath caressed her skin. It felt so right, too right to resist his advances. She lived for those long nights in their bed, those thick with lust and romance and naked kisses.

Aleksander shrugs, “I wanted to.”

Lips parted, she didn’t know what to do with that. He told her he loves her, that he’d wait for her to love him back and most women would fall at his feet. Something inside her refused to do so. To admit her feelings out loud would be the end of her.

If she allows herself to love him fully, how could she possibly be the cause of his downfall?

What would be left of her if she took his love and used it against him in the most cruel way possible?

She’s losing who she is around him, but it hurt so much more to reject his love. Hating him, pretending her heart isn’t a feeble muscle where he resides is exhausting.

Truth is, he doesn't make her feel safe or comfortable as she once believed a man should. He makes her feel like she's teetering at the edge of a cliff and she's getting addicted to that feeling. She’s getting addicted to him – his scent, his touch, his handsome smile and devilish smirk and most of all to the way his darkness drives away her demons.

Love has to come at once, with thunder and lightning like a hurricane that wreaks havoc on your life, to shake you up and break the heart like leaves off trees, to drag it into the abyss - abyss he created.

She used to fear the dark, but now she found herself running into it.

In that moment, she smiled.

Perhaps the darkness is not so bad if he’ll be there, holding her hand.

=============================

A/N - So, I literally wrote this in about two hours and I’m about to pass out. I wanna thank you for Eid Mubarak responses and especially for the feedback, I was just reading through them and they made my day so much better. I’m seeing some interesting theories too, some paragraphs you loved or just thoughts about the characters and IT GIVES ME LIFE. I’m so, so grateful for it all.

Tags: @bruxa0007 @rangotangomango @kaitlyn2907 @thestoryofmylife9 @shelivesindaydreamswme @hxrgreeves @safetyhtom @kaqua @savannah-elliott @all-art-is-quite-useless @azure23x @girlmadeofavocados @ashdab2611 @acciorudolphx @ladyblablabla @wckedheart @xceafh @sanna2020 @tarkanelima-blog @takethee @mellifluous-cosmos @marvel-ousnesss @tea-effect @starlightofsolaria @p3nny4urth0ught5 @blackbirddaredevil23 @sarcastic-and-cool @slytherinsbiggestproblem @within-thehollowcrown @notthatchhavi @musicconversedance @freakytillthemoon @lgkoval @honeyofthegods @queenmalhinewahine @misselsbells06 @whatthefluffrichard @aami98 @britriestbr @itsfangirlmendes @padme-parker @readingsssssssss @runawayolives @thehighladyofasgard @emlynblack @keithseabrook27 @dailydoseofchoices @deceivedeer @olympiacosplay @pansysgirlfriend @extrakyloren @daybleedsintonightfa11 @thoughts-and-funnies @weirdowithnobeardo @folkloresworld @remugoodgirl

PART 11

#the darkling #the darkling x reader #aleksander morozova x reader #aleksander morozova #general kirigan #general kirigan x reader #shadown and bone

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tinyhistory · 4 years

Note

Hey! Love your stories so much I just had to ask! Do you have any favorite drarry authors/stories? I sometimes compare the quality of other stories to ROA (oops!) because ROA is just that good. My personal favorites are ROA (of course!), the Foundations Series (saras_girl), the ordeal of being known (louisfake), denouement (the_never_was), Good to Me (And I'd Be So Good to You) (AWickedMemory), and To Hurt and Heal (cassisluna). Have you read these? Have a wonderful day! :)

Thank you, so glad you’ve enjoyed my stories! And thank you for so patiently waiting for a reply. I haven’t been online much in the past couple of weeks. Unfortunately I haven’t read any of your recs, but I’m always happy to add another fic to my to-read list.

I did a rec post a few months ago, but I’ll post an updated version now. The Skyhawke Archives appear to be down, which is crushing news. I’ve had to update a lot of the links.

So here are my favourite Drarry fanfics:

And We Are At Our Apogee (PG-13) by angelgazing

Summary: Draco wanted revenge, but it didn't work out that way.

My notes: Californian beaches, supermarkets, road trips, and a bittersweet ending.

A Reckless State of Mind (T) by Lomonaaeren

Summary: Draco is a Psyche-Diver, and his newest patient is Auror Potter, who’s been a pathological liar for over a year—and has just tried to violently end his own life.

Notes: The plot alone guarantees inclusion on this list. Probably the most creative fic I’ve ever read, and the twists and turns will keep you guessing.

Berlin, In the Year of Our Lord (PG) by Are

Summary: Harry is a green-tea addict. Draco stalks him.

Notes: Probably my all-time favourite fic, along with Blue Vase. It’s sparse and minimal and I love that writing style.

Blue Vase (M) by ivyblossom

Summary: Let’s pretend.

Notes: Draco finds an amnesiac Harry and befriends him, pretending they were once lovers. It’s pensive, short, and bittersweet.

The Boy Who Only Lived Twice (E) by lettered

Summary: Harry Potter is an Unspeakable. Draco Malfoy is the wizard who shagged him. Adventure! Intrigue! Secret identities, celebrities, spies! It's all right here, folks.

Notes: Action-heavy fics are damn hard to write, but lettered nails it. The action scenes are breakneck speed, the conversations are threaded with double meaning, and even the silences are tense.

Draco in Darkness (T) by Plumeria47.

Summary: Following an accident in his seventh year, Draco loses his eyesight.

Notes: This is one of the first fics I ever read (when it was over on FF in 2003) so it’s probably here just for nostalgia points alone. I read it when I was a kid and just thought it was a lovely golden fairytale, the best romance I’d ever read in my (very short, thus far) life. I love reading it again, even years later as an adult when I can see the tarnish on it; the things my childhood eyes didn’t notice. I don’t care. It’s my soft and fuzzy comfort fic.

The Flesh is Frail (NC-17) by wildestranger

Summary: None

Notes: Draco has injuries from curses and spells, and Harry keeps him company. Draco is angry; Harry is stubborn. They argue their way into a grudging relationship. It’s a short read and well worth your ten minutes.

Good-bye to Yesterday (NC-17) by furiosity

Summary: Draco felt ready to face even a million years in Azkaban as long as it meant that at the end of it all, he would make Potter pay.

Notes: It’s not a dark fic, but it certainly dips in and out of the shadows. If you like your romance to be sharp as a razor and bitter as black coffee, give it a read.

Hymn to Color (PG) by Lomonaaeren

Summary: Months after Draco cast a curse that took Harry’s eyesight, Harry is still trying to come to terms with it. Draco still wanted forgiveness, which was probably the problem.

Notes: Probably my very inadequate idea of “fluff”. It’s a quiet, introspective fic. Draco and Harry are well-written.

Kings among runaways (PG) by enderxenocide.

Summary: Later, the toast will be slightly overcooked, Draco will burn the eggs, and there will be another fist fight in-between the living room and the front door, but they’ll eat breakfast with second-hand plates and Draco’s great-grandmother’s silverware.

Notes: Dreamy descriptions, abstract scenes, and the characters are lovingly delineated. Beautiful writing.

On Broken Glass (PG-13) by coffeejunkii

Summary: After the final battle, Draco is holding the shards that are left of his and Harry’s life.

Notes: Established relationship. Harry’s forgetful and seems to suffer both short-term and long-term memory loss; Draco stays by his side through six years of post-war amnesia. Very short, just a tiny ficlet. There’s sequels (in bite-size pieces) but I prefer to read the first ficlet and leave it there.

Paper Dolls (M) by cupiscent

Summary: In the final year of the War, Draco gets a letter, makes a choice and pays the price.

Notes: Short, succinct, and packs a punch. No character deaths, in case the summary has you feeling nervous.

Portrait (PG-13) by Silent Blast

Summary: None.

Notes: Dorian Grey, but Drarry. Of course it’s going to be good.

Shattered (NC-17) by femmequixotic

Summary: One damned accident involving one too-lucky curse, and suddenly you'd think he was five again, with their Harry, be carefuls and their quick Levitating charms ready the instant the potion gives way and his rebelling hands lose hold of whatever's in their grasp.

Notes: Draco’s an artist. Harry’s intrigued by his sculptures and paintings.

Snatch (PG-13) by didntyoupotter

Summary: Harry is comatose, Hermione and Ron aren’t much help, and Draco isn’t sure about anything anymore.

Notes: The opening scene fools you into thinking this will be a light read with a streak of good humour. Don’t fall for it. By the third act, you’ll be hanging onto every word and feeling a lot of emotions. Also, back in the day, this was one of the Draco/Harry fics. Everyone knew of it. Pay your respects to your fandom history and read this beloved classic.

The Stages of Acceptance (T) by Lomonaaeren.

Summary: Harry, already happily married to Ginny, receives the news that he's Draco's mate. Law and custom don't give him the option of ignoring the news. The stages of his reaction, one by one.

Notes: This is not a romance, and I love that the author just casually chucks all the Veela tropes in the bin and says “nope”. In Lomonaaeren’s own words, this fic is more practical than romantic. Harry is unfamiliar with the Veela concepts and hates the very idea of being “shackled” to someone; he rejects Draco at once. Draco is miserable and lonely. They do eventually come to understand each other better, but it’s a huge struggle with lots of setbacks. The general air of pessimism and misery does make the small glimpses of compassion and empathy feel so well-earned. I love a fic that rations out its happiness.

The Stately Homes of Wiltshire (E) by waspabi

Summary: Malfoy Manor has mould, dry rot and an infestation of unusually historical poltergeists. Harry Potter is on the case.

Notes: This one needs no introduction. The writing is polished, the characterisation perfect, and the dialogue is fun. I love the humour woven throughout it.

Then Comes a Mist and a Weeping Rain (E) by faithwood.

Summary: It always rains for Draco Malfoy. Metaphorically. And literally. Ever since he had accidentally Conjured a cloud. A cloud that's ever so cross.

Notes: Another one that most of us know. It’s a lighthearted and fun read.

Tomorrow, and Tomorrow, and Tomorrow (M) by novembersnow

Summary: In the war-torn years after Hogwarts, one man has no knowledge of his yesterdays.

Notes: Another classic back in the feverish heyday of the Harry Potter fandom, when books were still being released and everyone had worked themselves up into a shipping frenzy. And no wonder this fic was an instant hit. Draco has lost all his memories and Harry’s investigating as an Auror, but the longer you read, the more you start questioning everything. Good twists and turns that lead to a tender ending.

Turn by Saras_Girl

Summary: One good turn always deserves another. Apparently.

Notes: An inevitable inclusion on any favourites list. I think my favourite thing about it is the characterisation. Everyone is so well-rounded; the characters are brought to life and feel like old friends. All their habits, styles, mannerisms, even the way they walk or talk. While I love everyone in this fic, I have to admit that Blaise is just amazing. Of all the thousands of Blaises imagined by fanfic writers, I love this one the best. “Old bean” indeed.

Under the Ivy (PG-13) by coffeejunkii

Summary: It is impressive how much you can learn about someone by simply sharing a few rooms. They don’t spend time together, not really, but Harry still knows that Malfoy prefers raspberry jam over strawberry, that he hums along to the Wireless when he thinks no one is around, and that his leg is bothering him more than usual when the temperatures drop below freezing.

Notes: Another old, old favourite of mine. It’s like snuggling into a soft blanket. Remus owns a cottage and Harry moves in after the war. Later, Remus lets a room to Draco, who is an outcast after the war and has limited housing options. Harry isn’t happy at first with the new lodger, but he eventually warms up to Draco. A slow and gentle romance.

Vale Sanare (M) by rurounihime

Summary: Draco’s world gains a new component, just when he thought he’d sorted everything out.

Notes: London nightclubs, one-night-stands, loud music and lonely nights. Draco has seizures due to a curse from the war, and the seizures have led to a fear of intimacy. Short and sweet.

The Way Down (T) by lettered

Summary: Malfoy’s all, “Come out of there,” the way you say to a cat who is badly behaved. And Harry’s all like, “No, what, I’m a hermit! And I have a chest-monster! And I am crazy magically powerful!” and Malfoy’s all, “We all have problems, bub.” (thoughtfully) “You are crazy though. I’ll give you that.”

Notes: I just adore this fic. The fic starts well-grounded, giving you a solid backstory and matter-of-fact context, but as it goes on, it slowly unravels into dreamy scenes, lush settings, and repeated motifs. It’s just such a beautiful story.

When Love beckons to you, follow him (PG-13) by megyal

Summary: Draco wakes up, lost, somewhere in a forest. He has no idea where he is or how he got there. As he is blundering around trying to find his way home, he hears Harry's voice in his head, telling him what to do.

Notes: I generally like my fics to be bittersweet or with a bit of heartache — but this fic is just a little cloud of softness. If you need something light and lovely without being syrupy-sweet, this is a good choice!

The World of the Living (M) by fourth_rose

Summary: A traumatised war hero and a convicted criminal under the roof of an eccentric journalist make for a rather odd ensemble, but Luna has never had a problem with oddities as long as they make sense.

Notes: The story is told from Luna’s perspective, which gives everything a lovely dreamy quality. She takes in a couple of strays after the war — first Harry, who is avoiding his other friends and has quit his Auror job — and then she offers a room to Draco right after his trial. Draco is rude, angry, and ungrateful; Harry is churlish, withdrawn, and moody. Luna doesn’t seem to mind in the slightest, and over the course of the next few months, her house guests slowly warm up to each other.

Voices From the Fog (E) by noeon

Summary: After years of running away, Harry crosses paths with an all-too familiar face and follows him to Amsterdam.

Notes: Harry drifts across Europe, trying to forget the war. He ends up in a woodworking shop in Amsterdam, alongside a moody Draco. Atmospheric settings and solid characterisation.

#draco/harry fanfic #drarry #drarry fic recs #drarry fic #answered asks

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danddymaro · 3 years

Text

Take My Hand |Loki x (Asgardian) Reader x Bucky Barnes

Quick and easy because as much as I would love to make a whole series, I don't have the capability to do so regularly and not disappoint.

With that being said this might just be left open as a single shot so I don't have to pick lol.

Word count: 5097

A/N: Have I mentioned I love drama?

- because I love drama.

Loki is a serious drift between romantic and platonic, and I just... I just love it, because you're like, hmmm.

Is there something there?

Am I overthinking it?

Who do I pick?

Long-term friendship W/ Loki

Reader is Asgardian (as mentioned)

Bucky is in a half and half state. He’s somewhat good, but dealing with his stuff.

A lot more Loki W/reader.

Take My hand

She was a perfect woman, and he wholeheartedly believed it.

In his eyes she was the embodiment of everything he could ever ask for, but, even then, that didn't mean he couldn't be a stupid man.

‘It’s really for the best,’ He told himself, all in order to convince himself that what he was about to do was for the best.

‘ - Because right now...it’s not the best time for any of this,’ He thought to himself, biting his lower lip as he felt her reaching for him for warmth.

‘-It’d been in the heat of the moment,’ He inwardly spoke, wanting to take away any special meaning that the moment could hold.

‘yeah,’ he went on, wishing he could go back in time before they let themselves get carried away.

‘It’s just that...’ he went on, in a desperate attempt to convince himself that it was just like with any other time, and any other woman.

Though, in truth, as much as he tried to fight it, it was anything but insignificant. Far, deep within his being he did not want to forget the lovely moment now that it had occurred.

It was then that (f/n) pressed her cheek to his chest, her ear landing just a few inches off from his heart.

Her arm was then draped over his stomach, allowing her hand to land at his side, the woman seeming fully contempt with life as they cuddled.

‘It didn’t mean anything,’ He added with a long exhale, trying to convince himself as much as he could, hoping that if he repeated it enough, it would somehow become easier.

‘(f/n),’ He started, ‘Is this how you are with everyone else?’ He then wondered, asking himself if the cuddly nature was meant just for him, or for just anyone that lay next to her.

‘(f/n),’ He then added, his heart weighing down, ‘If I tell you a lie....would you just believe it? Will you just believe it...not having expected anything else from me but a single moment?’ He added, the same muscle tightening as the woman seemed to be at compete ease.

The sentiment was infectious and as he felt her melt, it was hard for him not to do the same. Even if his mind was far too plagued by a tornado of torment, his body got the message.

Naturally, the tension in his body melted, and it only made things more difficult, because it just meant that his heart was responding to her embrace, knowing that this time, it was different.

‘I know I’ve got a nasty reputation right now,’ He started, ‘ but it’s because, really, I don’t care about seeing them the day after.’ He silently admitted to the (h/c) haired woman.

He’d somewhat gone back to his old ways, though, not quite entirely because it was hard to fall back into being the same charmer he used to be when he’d gone through such a long-termed torment.

But, at the very least, he was graced with good looks, and it did plenty for him when he lacked the proper social skills to woo a woman.

He’d shamelessly had little hook ups here and there, and that was just what they were, and nothing more.

‘They know what to expect, and for me, it’s a routine.’ he thought idly, finding the arrangements he had better than spending the time alone in silence with his own thoughts.

‘I care about you a lot.’ He thought with certainty, pointing out what separated her form everyone else. ‘I think...that maybe... I might have actually fallen in love,’ He then corrected himself, finally admitting it.

‘If I think about you so much,’ He started, knowing it wasn’t right how frequently she came to mind, well aware that what he felt wasn’t something that he could feel for just anyone.

‘if you’re the first thing that comes to mind when I think about the good things in life...’ he then trailed off, filling it the rest with a silence that reached his mind.

‘ (F/n), I choose you.’ He declared. “ I’d always choose you,’ He thought with determination. ‘I just hope you know...that right now, (f/n), I’m choosing you.

Above me.

Above everyone else.

I’m choosing what’s best for you, and not what I want instead,’ he thought with lament.

‘ Right now, I’m no where near where I want to be.’ He went on with the same sorrow.

‘ There’s a reason I never stay overnight.

There’s a reason I don’t get too close to any one else...because it’s better for people to think I’m some asshole than some crazy psychopath.’ He told himself, not wanting to share his misery with the lovely woman.

‘You deserve more,’ He thought with certainty. ‘You’re meant for better things,’ He told himself, never forgetting her origin, knowing that she’d always be much more than he deserved.

She was a literal goddess, and he was just some broken down old fool.

“(f/n),” He started before closing his eyes while he let a deep breath leave his nostrils,

“(F/n),” He then said again, letting his mouth do the work, disconnecting himself from it all to make it more believable, because if she saw the misery that threatened to overtake him, she’d have doubt.

She stared at him with widened (e/c) colored eyes, the happy glow to them fading as he continued to speak, giving her an excuse to why he couldn’t stay, and much more, why he wasn’t one meant to settle down.

"- You understand....right?" He questioned her, and throughout his speech, it took all the power he could muster to not look back at her heartbroken expression, even though it felt like his duty to ease it.

‘When you’re upset, I feel like I have to put you at ease,’ He thought with tenderness, knowing the pain was there, and that it existed on her beautiful face.

He knew he'd caused it and instead, chose to cower, biting his tongue as he heard her take in a long, strong breath through her nostrils.

She’d long let go of him, and had chosen to distance herself the more he spoke,

"Of course," She responded, the hand that clutched the covers shaking before she released the fierce grip, finally collecting herself enough to hold back her melancholy.

She believed his deception because until then, she hadn't had a reason to distrust him.

Until then, he’d always been honest with her.

"I understand." She said with a soft, blue breath, her (e/c) colored eyes watching him as he slid from beneath the covers, soon throwing on his clothes in a way that was far too collected for a man that had regrets.

There was no stumble, nor fumble and she looked on with melting shoulders.

Quietly, (f/n) handed him his shirt, offering him a soft, yet broken smile, thinking she had mastered the false expression, though, failing the final test.

"You ok?" He asked her, his voice coming out soft and kind, because he never meant to hurt her.

'No...' She inwardly wept.

"Yeah...I get it," She said instead, her eyes fluttering close as he neared her, laying a soft kiss on her hairline.

"- I'm heading out now," he informed her, his right hand gently patting down (h/c) colored hair, the affectionate act causing her to shrink as she nodded in acceptance.

'Please...don't,' she silently begged.

'Not yet. If you're going to go anyways, just stay a little longer,' she added as she watched him go, wondering if she’d been the only one to hold back on calling him, or if he was used to being pleaded.

It didn’t take long for her to finally let loose of the harsh grip she had on herself, choking out soft sob after he left, properly reacting to his rejection once he was out of sight, and problobly off to his same routine.

And that was the part that hurt most, that in the end, she was just like all of the others.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

“Please...” (f/n) breathed, her voice down and tired as she tried to keep the conversation with the man civil.

But, it was fruitless, because as much as she wanted to avoid the conversation, he was detrained to dig deep, going as far as to follow her through the entirety of the empty facility. He remained hot on her trail with quick, long strides that only ceased when she decided to finally stop and turn towards him with the same defeated gaze she’d wear whenever she was shamed and beaten.

“You are a god!” Loki barked back at her, his emerald eyes shadowed over and dimmed as he roared out the words.

He spat them at the woman to remind her what was her true title, because he detested how fiercely she tried to play home with a realm that she didn’t belong to.

“You shouldn't be played a fool by an insignificant, Midgardian, lowlife,-”

“- Loki please,” She cut him off with a weak voice, desperately trying to both calm and silence him.

'Not now,' She secretly pleaded, not wanting to hear the harsh speak, especially with the news she’d just received.

She hardly found the strength to plead with him, and at that very moment, she was certain that it was the last bit of resistance she had left, the hollow feeling that she'd been consumed by only weakening her furthermore as the days progressed.

Left as nothing more than a walking husk, she cowered, and it was something he could see.

Her attempt was futile as well as her will to reason, and it only seemed to fuel his means to speak in such a heated tone, because the (f/n) he knew wasn’t so frail.

“You still defend him?!” He questioned her in complete astonishment, the tone borderline mocking.

In response she said nothing, and the woman only stared at her feet in disgrace, swallowing down a small wad of spit that would be her defense.

She couldn't find anything to say, or justify herself, and her silence was her only answer at the moment, the only one she could provide.

Because what was she to say?

Yes, she was a fool.

Yes, she simply strung along.

Yes to all the accusations, however, "Please…" she said softly, slowly lifting her gaze to meet his, finally finding it in herself to look directly at him.

She couldn't bear to listen to more, because despite everything that happened, it hurt her to hear the demi-god speak of Bucky in such a way that demoted him into nothing but worthless rubble.

No matter what had happened between them, nor how much bitterness was left in between to savor, she still loved him too much to sit through any ill talk of him. Aside from that, the way Loki threw her own foolishness In her face burned, scathing the warrior that lay dormant.

“No pleading me woman! I have sat back and watched you gravel and lower your status to an expendable waste of time and space here on Midgard!” He said loudly.

Her self-esteem was already at an all-time low, and his words only stung more, causing her to visibly shrink, her shoulders sinking as she accepted his venom.

All sympathy was left aside as his rant ran, and she wasn't surprised because she knew how heated and stubborn he could be, and by then she was well aware that she might as well speak her feeble plea to a brick wall.

'I know,' She quietly mused.

He watched her take in the insults with the same grimace and the sight didn’t soften his harsh glare in the least bit, nor deter his speech, and it was then that he made his final decision,

“I am not pleading you, nor am I requesting this,” he stated lowly, and the way he looked at her almost frightened her because she knew he had something severe to come.

Bracing herself, she looked up at him, (e/c) colored eyes wide and teary, waiting for what was to come.

“I demand you return to Asgard with me today.” he finished, each word spat out firmly.

His chin was held high as his eyes dared her to defy him, and at that, her heart came to a sudden stop.

“Today?!” she breathed, “ Loki- No, No, No, I can't simply leave like that.” She said frantically, nearly on the verge of tears, the panic she felt rising, momentarily shielding her from feeling the full strength of her sorrow.

“You can't?” He said, raising a brow,“…or you won't?” he asked her, silence ensuing after his low murmur.

"What stops you?" He questioned her, wanting to hear her say it, itching for her to face the reality of her decisions.

She tried her best to put on a brave front, but failed miserably and soon enough, tears began to fall down her face. Quickly, she hung her head to hide her worthless state, however, hiding her tears did nothing to stifle her sniffles, letting him know she was breaking down.

“ Loki..." She breathed.

‘I can’t go now,’ She thought to herself with weakness.

"- I'm pregnant…” she sniffed, her voice as soft as silk, completely delicate and woven with the finest fibers of desolation and helplessness. Through her (h/c) colored bangs, her ( e/c) eyes Scanned his face, only to find It unmoved, the expression giving her unease.

“And your point is?” He said with a low growl, annoyed.

The news didn't faze him, nor did it lessen his piercing glare, and it unnerved her, “Did you not hear me?” She questioned him, struck by disbelief.

Didn't he just hear her?

Did he even understand what the implications of her being in such a state meant?

She couldn't just leave, it wasn't right to do so.

“I heard you,” he said placing both hands behind his back, breathing in a soft, mellow sigh that loosened his tense body, “In Fact,” he began, “I knew before you mentioned it to me.” He said coolly.

"Y-you knew," she said shocked, though not entirely convinced, "That's impossible..." she murmured with uncertainty written all over her person.

she stared straight at him for a form of proof that indicated he could be lying, but she got nothing in return, only the same arrogant look he'd mastered.

“-Three weeks." He said simply, " You are three weeks pregnant,” he said before giving her a satisfied look that was in response to her expression of shock.

"Don't be so surprised, the question on your face is insulting.” He huffed, “ Need I remind you, that to fool a trickster is of unlikeliness my dear? " he said smugly.

"Then if you knew, then why give me such an ultimatum!" She furiously bellowed.

Why put her through the pain?

Why tear her child from a father?

Why try and force her into leaving?

The questions burdened her as she faced him, but the growing fury she felt forced her to retain them, not knowing where to start.

He huffed out a dry chuckle before closing the space in between them, slowly stepping closer.

"As I said before. I am not asking you to come with me, I am telling you, and trust me when I say you will comply," he asserted.

By then his taller figure loomed over hers, making her feel even smaller than before, the sudden burst of passion she had dying out as he towered over her.

"Are you really going to force me? " She murmured dejectedly, knowing that any hope of defying him wouldn't happen if he was fully intent.

" Only if I must, " He said calmly, seemingly cooled down..

She became crestfallen, the woman withdrawn and small by then, “Please don't make me...” she sniffed, looking up at him with hurt (e/c) colored eyes.

"Think about this, the child will be born on a bed of silk and surrounded by the finest. In Asgard, they will have a lasting life, one of prosperity, of higher thinking and understanding.

They won't be held back by petty wars and battles, the very ones you attempt to stop.

What more could one want for their own?" He reasoned with an almost too kind smile, lulling her onto his side, hoping to easily strum her along.

He then opened his mouth to speak again before she could deny him, using his silver tongue,

“Do you truly believe a child here would not suffer ?" He questioned her.

" You, more than anyone know how much corruption and danger there is here, especially for a person such as yourself….one who has so many foes." He reminded her.

" - With that said, would you would allow your child to live here, risking thier life? ” he asked her.

She was wedged between a spear and the wall, because as he stated out the facts, she was well aware of how much more favorable the other realm was, however, there existed a factor that bound her to the place she now called home,

"My child needs a father. " She said softly, so much so he couldn't have heard her at any farther distance.

Instantly, the emerald-eyed man turned from her, making an attempt to not capture her heartbroken gaze, and yet again silence filled the room, the space disrupted by the long, hiss he let escape.

" Oh," he breathed, " And here they have one, yes? " He dared to ask.

The question nearly killed her, because the dagger that had already been wedged in her heart was moving, digging deeper, and rotating in a way it ensured there wouldn't be any healing.

‘ he wouldn't... I know he wouldn't reject a child of his own flesh and blood.’ she thought with a glimmer of hope, trusting the man she'd given herself to.

His heart was good, and she was convinced of it.

She desperately wanted to believe it, however, Loki was a man that knew how to crush one's dreams, the soft-tongued man always aware of what words to use, because he’d mastered the art of manipulation.

" - The man who rejected you, who used you, who humiliated you in the vilest way he could… He is worthy of being a father? " he questioned her, finding a weak point.

'He doesn't want to be with me,' She then thought to herself. ' he doesn't want that life....so of course, why would he be willing to stop?

For me...For a child that comes from me...

One he never planned...

Why should I force him...right?’

“ Do you believe that if he cared for you, he would toss you away so easily, without even a glance at your way.

- Watching you suffer, seeing you slowly crumble… and do nothing?

I could never sit by and watch you suffer.” He then told her.

“How is it that he can?” He then asked her, watching her swallow hard.

“ Much more , Do you truly believe a man such as himself would be safe around a child? Again I ask -

Would you put your own child at risk? “

Her eyes went wide and she sucked in a strangled breath, taking in the words with a fastly thudding heart,

“You’re wrong !” she said stubbornly, “He wouldn't harm his own child, to any child. To any one!” she rambled. “He wouldn't ! he isn't like that, not anymore Loki!” She said with panic.

'No...you can play with every insecurity I have,' She silently spoke, ' but that is not one,' she thought with confidence.

“ of course HE isn't, but what about the Winter soldier? what about the ruthless assassin that lies dormant?

What of that feral beast he becomes ?

Is he not unstable still?”

She shook her head with a certain look to her eyes, pride swelling through at the gaze, “ You can't play on a fear I long let go of. I know he is strong enough.

He is different." she said with borderline arrogance.

He then sighed, the breath sounding exasperated.

"Return to Asgard. whatever fool that crosses your path could take the role." He finished, beginning to walk away, not willing to negotiate any longer, growing weary of the conversation.

"If a father is what you need then find a suitable one once we arrive," He advised her. “You’re still in your early stages,” he reminded her, letting her know how easy it’d be to just push the responsibility onto some other fool.

Her eyes became wide at his solution and her nostrils flared in anger, a sudden burst of fury striking her,

“I will do no such thing !” she growled, quickly pulling him back.

With her quick hand shot directly at him, she managed to grab his shoulder and spin him around roughly. And it was at that moment that he found himself facing a different woman, one he recognized.

Fire blazed in her (e/c) colored orbs, and by then the tears no longer flowed, slightly pleasing him.

The display of a knowing smirk made its way onto his face as he watched her, preferring her in her current state.

" That is deceiving, and a much more, a disgusting act. I could never do such a thing !" She said in between gritted teeth, "And for you to expect it from me, I'm appalled." She further seethed.

"You, are simply unbearable," He snickered.

"So are you, darling," she bit back.

‘Just when I think we’ve become strangers...we come to this point again.’ he thought to himself. ‘A change in scenery. A different year and stage in our lives, and yet, it’s all warmly familiar,’ He added, by then certain that he and the woman were destined to be at each other sides.

‘Alright,’ He decided, knowing what had to be done.

"Unbearable woman..." He breathed, " I have another proposition." he informed her.

She nearly tore out her hair at his words, frustrated, because, Could he not just understand?

she couldn't just leave,

"NOTHING YOU SAY COULD POSS-"

"Then I will be that fool…per se."

" …what? " She breathed stepping back from him, anger having disappeared. Instead, she stared at him in awe, as if he had grown a new head entirely.

“Idiot...” She murmured, “Just what are you saying!” She questioned him, still in shock, not knowing how to really react.

" You heard me, I will take responsibility of you both." He said with a low voice, his eyes cast down as he spoke, looking almost hesitant to word his proposal for a reason other than doubt of his own.

Truly, if there was any reason he looked away, it was because there was a vulnerability to him that he didn’t want to show so openly.

'Why are you doing this Loki ?’ She gloomily wondered.

“- Why?” She questioned him, “ Just why are you so pent on me leaving with you?” She asked him while taking a step closer to him.

Her hand reached out to him, her palm gently taking hold of his cheek, easing him to properly gaze at her.

“Why?” she breathed, questioning him yet again.

“Could the god of lies and deceit finally tell me the truth?" She challenged him, the words making his lips twitch with the most delicate touch of amusement.

"- Why not? " He said simply, still not looking towards her, his eyes stubbornly drawn away.

"B-Because !" She argued, not finding where to begin,

‘ Because I don’t want to hurt you.

Because you deserve so much more.

Because I love you too much to damn you in any way.’

Finally finding it in himself, he pulled up a soft smile, “I see no fault in my plan.” He assured her, the confident comment not easing her.

“It's marriage Loki! A family!” She cried in frustration. “It’s an eternity!” She went on, no longer convinced he knew the true implications of such ties.

“- I understand what it means fully well,” He started, “ And it seems that you do too, so could it be that you simply wish to not bind yourself to me in specific?” he said looking insulted, a hint of playfulness hidden in his words, the childish speak further wounding her, because the lightheartedness he showed only highlighted his true devotion.

His sweet banter only showed how sure he was.

“No... it's just... what about you?” She whispered with a crooked smile, an imperfect expression that tried too hard to properly showcase all of her inner musings from sadness and loss, to confusion and joy, and even hints of frustration.

“-What of me?” he asked her back, his tone just as sweet as hers.

“Don't play the role of a fool, because it doesn't fit you well,” she rebutted, the words making him crack a true smile.

“Do you not see it as sacred as I do?” She said with glittering eyes.

‘To me...this means devoted love.

This means there is no end.

This is something my heart has always yearned for,’

“Yes.” He answered her without a shred of hesitance, no second thought hidden between the spaces of the words.

“Then why me…?” She questioned him, “ Why make the sacrifice for me?” choking on her own words when she asked the one question she had begged to be answered.

“ why take me from my home here?” She continued to ask him. “Why put me before your own desires?” (f/n) said while beginning to shake.

“This is my desire,” He said as his hand rose to cover hers, all while his head leaned to her palm even moreso,

“ I wish you could truly grasp at how special you are.

How rare it is to find a woman such as yourself, in just about any part of the universe, even while scouring entire realms," he proceeded, grasping her little limb before lacing his fingers with hers, and suspending them in the air between them.

“That child of yours, they will take on my name, and whatever glories are bestowed upon them will be preceded by both of our titles, hopefully with pride,” He said with a small chuckle.

She could detect no lies, and at that, her hand squeezed his,

“ A child is an extension of you, and so, I could never deny them. They will be mine, just as they are yours.” he spoke before releasing a low, airy chuckle,

“Perhaps then I can show Odin how a true parent is to treat their son,”

He finished with a snide remark.

“Son..?” She questioned him, lightly tilting her head as she gazed at him, “A son?” she repeated while envisioning such a child.

‘Would our son hold resemblance to their father...or would they somehow hold all of me instead?’ She idly thought to herself, envisioning the same beautiful blue eyes that now caused her sorrow being possessed by her child.

“ Yes dear,” Loki said with certainty, “ A son. A boy. wouldn't that be marvelous?” He questioned her, seeming enthralled by the very idea, so much that he slid his free hand down to her upper back, the other that linked with her own held dearly as he took a step to the side, performing a lax spin that was of a poorly preformed waltz, and it reminded her so much of the little dances they preformed as children.

“ Then what if it's a girl?” she interjected, “Would you still be as willing to accept them? ” She said while smugly awaiting his answer, wanting to see him weigh in every possibility.

“What do you mean if it's a girl ?” He said while stopping their spinning, “ Then there will be a princess born, and she will be a proper lady,” He responded without question, mindlessly falling in sync with her little steps.

“Oh, and mother will just adore her. We will teach her all sorts of magic and quick Wit.

She will have both our bronze and brain,

Your righteous convictions, your every strength...they will be celebrated.

And every weakness she develops will be assured by me,” He swore to her, seeing only a bright path in the wake.

“She will be a gem formed in the same mine as her perfect mother,” He said proudly, but not soon after did his frown overtake him, abruptly stopping their little waltz,

“Which in turn...will mean she will be sought after by just about every man in Asgard,” He mumbled lowly, breaking off from her with a bothered downturn,

“And of course, none will ever be worthy of her, “ he said with a present scowl.

Momentarily, she stared at him, her sight, and mind alike completely taken by the prince who she could only then, describe as precious.

“ Traces of doubt nested within me, until just now, “ She admitted, “You're serious aren't you..?” she asked him with a small chuckle, her (e/c) colored eyes gazing at him with an even brighter light.

“ And I keep asking myself...why?” she said softly, shaking her head all the while, and it was then that his entire face melted into a sweetened softness that was further accented by the gentle smile he presented.

“ You have been with me through and through, just like a shadow, but unlike one, you don’t stand behind me.

You don’t cower yourself, and, instead, show me devotion while everyone else looks away.

You’ve defended me, despite the many times I've paid you back with everything but the truth. “ he said with shame.

“(f/n), with you, I’ve felt true love,” He admitted to her.

“What we have, to me, has always been treasured.

It has always been cherished.

I was never doubtful of what it was,” He further confessed. “I do not want you to look at that man more than you have to.

I do not want you to live in the same place he calls home.

- I cannot stand your suffrage.

Do you understand me?

You've always been one to find reason behind my actions and against all logic and reasoning.

You’ve always tried to save me, so now, shouldn't I do the same with you?” He questioned her.

“(F/n),” He airily murmured, “Would you take my hand, and disappear?” He then asked her, pulling back to just the touch of fingertips.

With an upturned palm, he offered her a sweet smile as he repeated the question a second time,

“(f/n)...Would you take my hand?

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shyficwriter · 3 years

Text

I've Got You

Guardians of the Galaxy Fanfic | Reader x Guardians (Yondu is alive)

Summary: After you never let anyone else listen to your music Rocket and the guys decide they want to see what potentially embarrassing songs you have on your music player, but find something else entirely.

Author's Note: ANGST! This story does NOT have a happy ending, or an ending at all really. It may be funny at the start but it's all angst at the end and it'll make you cry. Proceed with caution. This isn't even a joke- it gets heavy. I was going through some stuff... If you think this might trigger anything for you at all, skip this one.

Content Warning: Mentions of suicide/depression.

Word Count: 2,508

You didn't mind sharing with the rest of the gang. You really didn't. You'd share your clothes with Mantis, your food with Groot, and your books with Drax. There was very little you didn't share, except for one thing, and that was your music player.

Anytime someone would occasionally ask to borrow it you would always make up an excuse, usually: "Nah, you wouldn't like my music." and that was usually that for a little while. But, of course, eventually someone would ask again and you'd have to make the same excuses over again. Once you even told Peter it was all accordion music so he'd stop asking to compare playlists. That worked for a bit, until a week later you forgot you had told him that and said how much you hated accordion music when the topic of Polka was brought up. Oops. Well, there went that excuse.

One day was different, however.

You were walking in Peter's ship, minding your own business with your headphones in when Rocket motioned to you. He was sitting at a table with Groot. You paused your player and removed one of your earbuds. "What's up?"

"Groot was trying to ask if he could listen with you. but of course you had your volume up like always."

"You're going to damage your hearing if you keep that up," said Gamora, sitting on the other side of the room with Drax.

You ignored her, turning your attention back to Rocket. "Oh. I don't think that's a good idea.." you said with a wince, feeling bad for having to tell the little guy 'no.' Other than Mantis, he was the one you always felt the most guilty saying 'no' to. Those puppy-dog eyes were killer.

Rocket eyed you suspiciously. "Why? Quill lets him do it all the time?"

He was right. Peter did let little Groot listen to music with him quite often. But you weren't Peter.

Peter startled you when he came up from behind you with Yondu, saying, "Yeah, you're weirdly possessive of that thing. It won't hurt to let him have a listen."

'It might.' you thought. "He might be better off listening to your music, we already know he likes that."

"What's wrong with yers?" Yondu asked, who agreed with Peter about the weirdly possessive thing. You barely ever let that thing out of your sight.

You tried to think of something, "It's uh, not really appropriate..."

Yondu chuckled, "Are ya trying to say ya have dirty songs on that player of yers?"

You blushed. That's not exactly where you were going with that, but if it works... "I'd just say my music isn't exactly, uh.. kid friendly."

Your blush only made it more convincing that this whole time you had been hiding embarrassing music on your device. Rocket raised an eyebrow in amusement and Peter laughed too. "There's no way I'm gonna believe you have dirty songs on there. Let me see." he said, moving to reach for your music player.

You quickly put it in your pocket. "Nope! Bye." you said, turning on your heels and making your way to leave the ship, glad you were docked on a planet as it gave you an escape. "Gonna go head out for a walk, be back soon!"

Peter looked slightly disappointed, but let you go.

Once you were gone Rocket spoke up. "You know, I think I know a way how we can sneak a listen to what she's got that's so secret on there," he said, smirking. "Ya know, if you want..."

Yondu and Peter shared a glance before looking over at Gamora, sure she'd reject the idea in favor of your privacy. Surprisingly, she nodded in agreement.

"I have to admit, now I'm curious too." Gamora said with an almost embarrassed shrug.

And with that it was settled. Rocket told them his plan.

***

The next day when you went to retrieve your music player from your nightstand drawer, it was there as expected. However, when you went to power it on nothing happened.

You groaned, walking out into the common area to look for Peter. Once you found him you asked if he had any spare batteries, only to be disappointed when he didn't.

"Although," Peter said, "If you're gonna walk down to the store to get some I'll transfer you some units to bring back a case of soda."

You agreed to bring him back some soda, but told him not to worry about the units as you headed out the door, having been convinced to take little Groot with you last minute. You never could resist those little eyes of his.

The team waited a few moments to make sure you weren't coming back for anything before telling Rocket to make his hasty trip to go get your music player from your room.

Your batteries hadn't died, Rocket had just quietly replaced them with dead ones while you were sleeping. He switched them back once he got back to where the rest of the team had gathered around the table.

Rocket grinned, thinking he was about to hit the jackpot on embarrassing secrets from you. "What do ya think it is?" he asked, handing the player to Peter. "I bet it's boy-bands."

Peter powered on the player and snickered. "What if it's that Justin Bieber guy that was always on the radio when we went to Terra?"

"Oh, he was awful. I would also be embarrassed to be caught willfully listening to his music." Drax said.

"I dunno, I still kinda think she's got dirty songs on there," Yondu laughed. "Ya saw how she blushed."

Peter rolled his eyes and began scrolling through your playlists. He raised an eyebrow. "I hardly recognize any of these songs." he said. "The only ones I recognize are ones I've already got on mine."

"Let me see," offered Kraglin. "I know more Xandarian songs, maybe they're some of those?" He scrolled for a bit before as Peter got up to grab something from a trunk behind him.

Peter sat back down and Kraglin handed the player back, shaking his head. "I don't recognize them either. Maybe they're Terran?"

"We'll see." Peter said, plopping the device he got from the trunk on the table and plugging it into the player. It was a speaker. "Here, now we can all hear it. Which one should I try first?"

"What's in her 'Recent's' list?" Gamora asked.

"First one says "Stay Alive," Peter says, "Oh! I actually think I know that one. My grandad used to listen to it, it's so old!" he laughed. "I didn't expect her to be into disco music though..." Peter hit play and as the lyrics came out he realized he was mistaken. "Oh... that's... That's not the song I thought it was at all..." he said in surprised concern.

♫♩"... Stay alive, stay alive For better days to come around.

When nothing is right in your head And all of your tears are shed I know how it seems, you're in this too deep But take it from me, it's not the end..." ♫♩

"Um..." Peter swiped to play a new, hopefully less depressing, song.

♫♩"Do you ever feel like breaking down? Do you ever feel out of place?" ♫♩

Nope. Peter swiped again.

♫♩"All day starin' at the ceilin' makin' Friends with shadows on my wall All night hearing voices tellin' me That I should get some sleep Because tomorrow might be good for somethin' Hold on, feelin' like I'm headed for a breakdown And I don't know why" ♫♩

Peter furrowed his brow. The others shared concerned glances, but didn't say anything. He swiped again.

♫♩"It's caving in around me What I thought was solid ground I tried to look the other way But I couldn't turn around" ♫♩

*Swipe*

♫♩"Hello darkness my old friend..." ♫♩

Peter could already tell it was another depressing song, he backed out of the screen into the list of recently played songs seeing titles like: "Nightmare," and "I'm not okay (I promise)," and unfortunately more bluntly: "Don't try Suicide." They listened to a few more songs, and they were all depressing. You did have happier songs on your music player, but your "Recents" list was full of much more depressing songs, as if that's all you had listened to for a long time.

Nobody was smiling anymore, Rocket looked like he was sorry he came up with this idea. Even Drax clearly understood that they hadn't discovered anything good.

Yondu's expression was hard, "Well, I don't like this at all."

"I think we made a mistake." Mantis said, concern painting her features.

"But... she always seems so... ok?" Rocket said, his ears lowered. You were his friend. His prank buddy. He had no idea. "Do you really think...she, you know...?"

"I don't know? I mean, do you think she'd really not say anything if she was hurting this much? Wouldn't Mantis at least have picked up on it?" Peter asked. He looked over at Mantis expectantly.

"I can only feel other's emotions if I touch them," she started, "and... she's never actually let me touch her."

"What should we do?" asked Gamora.

***

You walked in a few minutes later to just catch the last bit of Peter saying something about having a talk with you.

"Have a talk with me about what?" you asked.

It was clear you had startled them, Gamora having spun to face you upon hearing you speak up, and she almost never got startled.

You chuckled, walking nearer the table to place your grocery sack on it. Groot hopped off your shoulder to run across the table to Rocket. "Oh gosh, I didn't mean to scare you guys! I got the soda you asked for- ...what's that?" Your demeanor changed from almost cheery to nervous, the blood draining from your face when you saw what was very clearly your music player plugged into a speaker. Your eyes shot to Peter, the one closest to your device. "Peter? What the fuck?"

"It was Rocket's idea!" Peter exclaimed, his guilt having managed to trip his self-preservation switch.

Rocket didn't even try to deny it. He looked at the ground, "I thought it'd be funny..." he muttered. Groot looked at him in confusion. His friend usually never looked sorry for anything.

You snatch your player from the table. It was currently off, leading you to believe there might have been a chance they didn't listen yet. "Boundaries!" you scold, putting the player in your pocket. "Seriously uncool!"

You went to turn around but you bumped into Yondu who had walked around the table while you were scolding Peter.

"Sit." he said, his face stony.

You look up at him in surprise before Gamora spoke up. "We... listened to the songs you had on your player... We just want to talk."

You just stare at her for a moment. "Seriously guys, what the fuck?!" you say, your tone exasperated and your eyebrows knitted together. "You know what? No. I don't want to talk. I'm going back out."

Yondu grabbed your arm as you tried to push past him. "No. Yer gonna sit." with that he walked you to the nearest open chair and made you sit. His tone wasn't angry, but it was firm.

You felt knots tying in your stomach. Gamora spoke again.

"Look, we're sorry we took your music player without asking, but now that we have, we're concerned."

You pinch the bridge of your nose. No. No no no. "I literally told you guys so many times-"

"I know," Peter said, "but please... Just- we need to know if you're ok."

"Of course I'm ok!" you lied. "Why would I not be ok?!"

"Cut the crap." Kraglin said. His tone didn't seem angry either, it almost seemed sad. "I seriously doubt you'd be listening to all that depressing stuff if you were actually ok."

You attempt to stand again, saying, "Look just screw off-" before you were silenced by Yondu firmly pushing down on your shoulder to stop you.

"Look, we care about ya, ya lil' shit, and we ain't about to just let ya keep suffering if yer hurtin."

That tore something in you.

"Please- guys." You clenched your jaw and looked at the floor. No. Fuck. Not right now. "Just-" You inhaled sharply. Dammit. You were not about to start crying right now. You screwed your eyes shut, before covering your face when you realized that wasn't going to stop the tears and not wanting them to see. "Fuck!"

It all flooded you. All the hurt. All the pain. The hopelessness. The humiliation of the current situation. The guilt of your friends worrying about you. The numbness shattering as white hot pain tore through your soul. You felt what you thought was Gamora putting a comforting hand on your shoulder and you tried to hold back a sob as every bad thought you had about yourself came flooding in. You started to shake, feeling shame as memories of thoughts about ending it all leaked out your eyes. How many nights you had stood in front of the airlock weighing whether that night would finally be the night you pushed that button.

From behind you you heard a strangled cry. A cry of pure anguish. It was only then you realized the hand on your shoulder couldn't have been Gamora's. It had come from behind you. She had been standing in front of you. You quickly jerk forward and turn around in your seat, wrenching yourself from Mantis's hand- but it was too late.

Mantis nearly doubled over, hands clawed into her chest as a sob lodged itself in her lungs. She had only wanted to make you feel better. She wasn't expecting the torrent to flood into her so forcefully, hadn't realized this wasn't something she could just make go away with her abilities. She had felt everything.

The others looked at her with wide, startled eyes. Drax pulled her in and held her, not really knowing what to do but trying to make the hurt go away. Poor little Groot didn't understand what was happening, and Rocket held him so he couldn't see. Peter and Gamora shared an alarmed glance.

You were speechless. You could only stare in horror witnessing what you- or rather your pain- had done to her. "Mantis-" was all you could manage, not knowing what else to say. You barely noticed your tears now started flowing freely down your cheeks. You stood up to run away, but just like every other time you had tried, Yondu stopped you. Only this time he pulled you tightly to his chest, his hand cradling the back of your head as if you were a newborn.

"Girl, why didn't you tell us?" you heard him say softly.

You allowed yourself to be held, not realizing until that very moment just how badly you had needed to be. Fresh sobs broke from you and you buried your face into his chest when he said, "Shh now, little girl, I've got you."

#gotg #gotg fanfiction #angst #content warning #yondu x reader #yondu udonta #peter quill #x reader #gamora #guardians of the galaxy #drax the destroyer #mantis #rocket raccoon #groot #kraglin #music

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imagining-in-the-margins · 4 years

Text

Different Kind of Daddy (S.R.)

Summary: After a rough day, Reader has good news for her husband. Request: Post series finale Spencer finds out his girlfriend is pregnant by her saying to him after he's having a bad day, "Would you like to make love to the mother of your child?" - @dreatine Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader Category: Smut (NSFW, 18+) Content Warning: Oral sex (female receiving), penetrative sex, unprotected sex, pregnancy, DD/lg kink, alcohol, Reader’s weight is implied in that Spencer is able to carry her over his shoulder Word Count: 3k

MASTERLIST

There were so many days when Spencer was able to leave his work behind when he crossed the threshold of our home. In fact, if I didn’t look too hard, most days I would miss the weight of the hundreds of people he wasn’t able to save hanging on his shoulders.

That day was not one of those days.

As soon as my boyfriend had crossed the threshold, I felt the pain clinging to him like a stubborn shadow. Normally, I might have had a few different ideas to help him, but he didn’t even seem interested in those at the moment.

He didn’t even seem to register that I was sitting in the room, watching him with my concern trying to cut through the darkness that shrouded him. He made a beeline to the kitchen table, dropping his things before walking to the liquor cabinet.

“Hey, love,” I tested the words quietly, noticing the slight jump he gave at the sudden realization that he had missed my presence in the room.

“Hey,” he said with a single heavy exhale that told me more than any words would have, anyway.

It had to have been a bad case. The kind he couldn’t even talk to me about. I hated those. So did he. But that was okay; I didn’t need to talk to him about it today.

Because I had my own little secret for him, and it was the kind that was so much better shared with physicality.

I glided over to him, the lightness in my step strongly contrasting the darkness in his. I hoped that I could ward it away, even just for a moment.

At first, he just offered me a single armed embrace. But once my face was nuzzling into him, he abandoned the brandy and opted to wrap both arms around me, instead.

His muscles were already beginning to relax, his lungs filling with the clean smell of fresh laundry and soap rather than the death and blood he’d been surrounded by.

“God,” he murmured into my hair, “I missed you so much, little girl.”

“I missed you more,” I mumbled back.

“I doubt that very much.”

Not ready to spoil my surprise, I didn’t correct him yet. Instead, I ran my hands up and down his back underneath his suit jacket.

“Skip the drink tonight. Come to bed with me now.”

Unfortunately, he didn’t seem as excited about the idea as I’d hoped. His hand fell heavily on my arm as he created distance between us. He took a deep breath before his hand landed back on the cup.

“I don’t think I could sleep if I wanted to. Which… I do.”

It physically hurt to see him suffering like this, and I couldn’t blame him for choosing the drink when he looked so downtrodden. I knew there was something I could do to help, but a deeply insecure part of myself was also scared of ruining my news by sharing it with such an apparently horrible thought.

“I wasn’t thinking about sleeping,” I cheekily admitted, earning an amused half-smile, at least.

I could practically hear his thoughts that were written across his face as he was trying to figure out how to reject his very cute girlfriend who was practically begging him to sleep with her.

“I’m sorry. It’s not you. I just…” he paused. “It’s hard for me to think about… anything right now. I just want to forget.”

He downed his drink within a couple seconds, pouring himself another at a troubling rate. More insistently now, I hoisted myself up on the counter next to his cup. I scooted closer to his hands and hoped that he would choose me, instead.

“What if I gave you something more fun to remember?”

I tried to make it sound sexy, but my unease and secrecy foiled any plan to trick him. Still, he chose to pay more attention to me than his drink.

Sliding his hand up my thigh, he quickly found the edge of my nightgown. Not letting the fabric stop him in any sense, he continued on his path up my hip and around my lower back. Breathing in the scent of my freshly applied perfume, he sighed against my ear.

“I’m not doubting your talents, little girl, but it’d have to be something pretty extreme to distract me right now.”

I laid feather light kisses against the side of his jaw, enjoying the way his stubble prickled against my lips. He smiled and hummed at the gentle attention.I felt another metaphorical brick of his restraint crumble to the ground.

“I have an idea,” I whispered to him.

He turned to me slowly, slipping his other arm under my dress, pulling me flush against him on the counter.

“What is it?”

“How would you feel… about making love—“

As soon as the words left my mouth, he had already started pulling back. I huffed, grabbing his arms and yanking him back to his position between my legs.

“I’m sorry. I know it’s been a while, I just don’t think I can treat you like you deserve right now,” he mumbled. The shame lacing his words made me feel terrible. I was just trying to be cute while he was clearly struggling with something deeper than I was able to help with.

But I hoped that would change soon.

“I wasn’t finished talking yet, Spencer. Be patient.”

“Okay,” he placated, a small smile while he brought our faces closer together. “Sorry. Continue.”

“Like I was saying…” I began, sliding my hands up his chest and onto his shoulders before I bit down on my lip. He glanced down at it, a distant arousal clear in his eyes despite his hesitance.

“How would you feel about making love… with the mother of your child?”

It took him a moment to absorb my words, and I wasn’t sure which part of him responded first. His eyes widened enough to showcase the way his pupils immediately dilated. His jaw hung open, and his chest froze in place as his lungs forgot how to work.

“What?” he asked breathlessly, backing up ever so slightly to look me in my face more clearly, his hands losing all tension, which seemed to rise straight to his chest.

I couldn’t manage to say anything, my mouth opening just to share small, bubbly giggles.

“Are you serious?” Spencer’s voice was already cracking, his hands now frantically grabbing me again, with his eyes darting all over my face to try and catch any sign of deception.

Still speechless, I nodded, biting down on my lip harder to try and contain the excited screams I wished I could share.

Quietly, almost under his breath, he asked once more to clarify, “You’re… You’re pregnant?”

I continued to nod, this time with my whole body bouncing, and immediately, Spencer practically enveloped me in a hug. The force with which he embraced me nearly knocked me off the counter, and I laughed more wholeheartedly at his quickened breath against my neck.

“Oh my god. When did you find out?!”

He was practically shouting in my ear, one of his hands coming up to cradle my head. I wasn’t sure if he was avoiding looking at me because he was in shock, or if it was because he was trying to hide the tears I could hear in his voice.

“Today. I didn’t want you to get your hopes up in case it was negative but…”

He pulled back, a stupid, toothy smile starkly contrasting the bags under his eyes. Just watching me for a long moment, I could feel him dedicating this moment to memory. He would play it back in his head a million times.

“You’re pregnant.” The words felt foreign and thrilling. “W-with… my child.”

“Yes,” I rasped, pulling his arm back so that I could bring his hand to my still flat stomach. It wouldn’t look like that for much longer. “You’re going to be a different kind of daddy now, Spencer Reid.”

Any other words were quickly swallowed by the heated open mouthed kiss he planted on my lips. I let out a soft moan at the hunger in his hands, which were now pawing desperately underneath my nightgown and in my hair.

My back arched so far I nearly lifted myself off the counter; my body drawn to him like we were made of magnets. It took mere seconds for his hand to find its way to my bottom, grabbing a handful and pulling me forward to press against his erection now straining against his pants.

So much for him not being in the mood.

“Take me to our bedroom,” I growled, my nails dragging over the back of his neck while I wrapped my legs around him. He didn’t make me say it twice, nearly tossing me over his shoulder within no time at all.

I was laughing again, trying to enjoy what it felt like for him to carry me before he definitely wouldn’t be able to do it again. But it was okay, I reminded myself, because I would get to see him carrying our child in his arms, instead.

Once we reached the room, he wasted no time, gently laying me down on the bed and pressing a long, hard kiss against my lips before he stood back up. At first, I started to sit up to follow him, but he shot me one of those glances that told me he had plans for me.

“Don’t move,” he ordered. “You stay just like that.”

With more force than necessary, he was tearing his tie from his neck, swiftly unbuttoning his shirt and littering the ground with his clothes. Once in a matching state of undress, he climbed onto the bed, but stopped at my waist. His mouth started at my belly button and then began on a downward trek.

“What are you doing?” I asked, despite having my own guesses.

Spencer didn’t give me a straightforward response, his tongue darting between his lips with each kiss, leaving a trail in his wake. At the same time, he began to work my underwear down my legs.

“I think you know what I’m doing.”

He locked eyes with me once he tossed the flimsy cotton to the side, his hand cupping the area it used to cover.

I audibly gasped when his finger slipped past my folds, making quick work to spread my wetness over his fingers. He returned his own groan at the sensation before he buried his face in the very same place.

When he dragged his tongue over my opening, his fingers beginning to unhurriedly thrust in and out of me, I couldn’t contain the throaty moans. Spencer seemed to appreciate the feedback.

My hands found their way to his hair, and I was suddenly grateful for the length that he’d grown out. It provided the perfect handle for me to hold him down against me while his tongue carried out its mission to touch every inch of me possible.

“Spencer,” I choked, “Don’t stop.”

His pace quickened as if to tell me that he wasn’t ever planning on it. His fingers began to drag against my walls with each movement, his mouth closing over my clit while his tongue was anything but still.

The lewd noises coming from between my legs drove me insane. It’d been weeks since Spencer had touched me, and even then it had been hurried and tired. That time, though, it was positively electric.

And I knew he felt it, too, because when my legs started to apply pressure to the sides of his head, he didn’t even try to stop them. His free hand gripped my hip, holding me down so that I couldn’t buck into his mouth. But it didn’t stop my body from trying, seeking the last bit it needed to find release. Sensing how close I was, Spencer performed the impossible task of moving faster, harder, and with even more precision.

Wrecked by muscle spasms, my lower body lifted off the bed as I screamed out to him. He didn’t let it distract him; continuing to pump his fingers in and out of me even when my body struggled to try to keep him inside. The moan he muffled against me did not help, and for a moment I was concerned I would devolve into a second orgasm within a matter of seconds.

Thankfully, my body held out long enough for me to rip Spencer away. I didn’t want to be too tired when he finally decided to take me.

“Please, come here,” I weakly called, practically whimpering at the erotic sight of his chin wet with my juices while he struggled to catch his breath.

He obeyed my request without any hesitation, wiping his face with the back of his hand before sharing his tongue with me. The heady scent of myself on him only served to further my longing. I wondered what it would take before our bodies would cease to exist without the other.

With a hard swallow, he separated the two of us and dragged my nightgown over my head. Then, just as quickly, his mouth had attached to my breast, his hand lovingly kneading the other.

There were no words shared, but I knew why he was spending so much time on them. His tongue circled the pebbled peak, biting down lightly on it. Now much more sensitive, my hands were back in his hair while I sobbed out mangled versions of his name.

This body, he was saying, will carry and raise my children.

And I will love it like it deserves.

Swapping sides, my body began to writhe in the overwhelming, general pleasure I derived from his shared presence. I felt like I would drown in him. Once my nipples were kissed sore, I tore him away from my body again, looking at him with my flushed, wanton expression.

“Please,” I begged, “Please fuck me.”

That dark, possessive smile that always signaled my end spread across his face. Clearly, it was the request he’d been waiting for. Without breaking eye contact, he lined himself up, gently rubbing the head of his erection against my entrance.

“It's a good thing you're already pregnant.”

His voice was a whisper, but the force behind the words was enough to carry them through the narrowing space between us.

“Because if you weren't, you definitely would be by the end of the night.”

A guttural moan tore from my chest when he abruptly thrust forward, stretching me open all at once. My fingernails raked across his back, earning a satisfied yet pained grunt from the man above me.

He thrusted with twice as much force in retaliation, smiling when my body shook around him.

“Even when you’re already pregnant, your body is still begging me to fill you up.” It was almost a laugh, the way he spoke. “It’s like you were made to take this fucking cock and give me children.”

“Mm, yes, Daddy.”

The words had slipped from my lips by instinct; I hadn’t even considered the new implication. Because now I wasn’t the only one who would call him daddy.

Spencer noticed it, though.

“Fuck,” he nearly shouted, slamming into me and clenching his eyes shut, “Say that again.”

“Yes, Daddy,” I answered with more of a moan than words. The sounds served their purpose nonetheless, with him propping himself up against the headboard. He grabbed hold of my hips, raising them so that each thrust would cause him to bottom out inside of me.

“You like making me a daddy, little girl?” he asked, not really expecting an answer now that my head was thrown back among the pillows. With each thrust he pushed impossibly deeper into me, reminding me just how eager he was to knock me up in the first place.

“Yes,” I breathed, gripping the sheets to try and tether me to the world.

“You ready to carry my child? For everyone to see who you belong to?”

“Yes!” I yelled now, my hips jerking up each time he filled me. “I’m yours. I want them to know I’m yours.”

The words had more of an effect on him than I was expecting, and his hips were faltering, his thrusts becoming jagged and longer. I could see the concentration in the sweat forming on his brow, his breath shallow and hard.

“Mine,” he growled as he gave one final, forceful thrust, pulling me against him. “You’re mine.”

The nice thing about my current stage of pregnancy was that everything seemed so much more sensitive. I swore I could feel his fucking pulse, mixing together with my own as he filled me with his seed.

Despite the fact I was already pregnant, my body still clung to him desperately, my walls fluttering around him as my eyes struggled to remain focused on the euphoric expression Spencer was giving me as he lost himself in the way our bodies combined.

He collapsed forward, nearly crushing me under his weight as he struggled to prop himself up on his arms. We’d gotten so caught up in the moment that I almost forgot that he’d knocked back two glasses of brandy after a 9 hour flight home.

Poor thing was exhausted— that much was obvious in the way he clumsily pulled out and flopped onto his side, trying to breathe in all the air he hadn’t been able to take since we started.

The first thing he said caught me off guard, but it really shouldn’t have. Because as he laid there with a mystified stare aimed at the ceiling, there was still only one thing on his mind.

“I’m going to be a dad.”

“Yeah,” I smiled, “You are.”

He turned to me, equal parts terrified and excited. I did what any good girlfriend would do, and tried to comfort him by lazily draping my arm around him and pressing a light kiss against his cheek.

“I’ll finally be able to call you daddy in public without people thinking I’m weird,” I laughed, settling into my space curled up next to him, our arms wrapped together. “Although, you’ll also have a toddler calling you that, so. Might steal my thunder.”

Spencer laughed, grabbing my hand that rested against his chest and squeezing it with all the energy he had left.

“Don’t worry,” he whispered with a small smile, “You’ll always be Daddy’s little girl to me.”

(Tell me what you thought of this fic here!)

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remnantoforario · 4 years

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Remnant’s Top Ten Anime of 2020

2020 Was certainly a ride wasn’t it? To those that managed to make to make it through in one piece, or any piece, good job. Hopefully 2021 is better to us all.

Despite the world mostly being on fire, I’d hazard to say that a lot of good shows came out in 2020 (despite a number of them being delayed to either later in the year or this year altogether). I meant to release this list much earlier, but I kept changing it around.

Anyway, here are the ones I thought were the best.

Honorable Mentions:

Dorohedoro

Synopsis: The plot centers on a man named Caiman and his search for his real identity after a transformation by a sorcerer left him with a reptile's head and no memory of his former life.

Along with his friend Nikaido, he violently assaults sorcerers in the Hole, with the aim of taking their heads into his mouth, where a strange face will appear and confirm whether the sorcerer he has bitten onto was the one responsible for his transformation or not.

As the residents of the Hole, the En family and the Cross-Eyes gang, along with many others, collide with one another, the mystery of Caiman's identity begins to unravel, reigniting ancient grudges and threatening to forever change both the Hole and the sorcerers' world.

Thoughts: This is the only Netflix anime I watched this year (I missed out on Great Pretender before the year ended), and I can honestly say I had fun with this one. It’s animation was good, the story was engaging enough, and the characters were all unique (Noi best girl). The one problem I would say with the show is that it can come off as unfocused at times, meandering from one plaot point to another with no real connective tissue.

Still a fun series though.

ID: Invaded

Synopsis: The anime follows the investigations of Narihisago, a renowned detective now in prison, who is tasked with diving into the id wells of various serial killers.

Two years prior to the current events, Narihisago's daughter Muku was brutally murdered by a serial killer, leading Narihisago's wife to commit suicide. These deaths prompted him to hunt down and murder the killer, earning him his prison sentence. He is still depressed and haunted by his wife and daughter's deaths, but also uses this as motivation to take his work seriously and help stop serial killers.

Thoughts: One of a handful of original series that came out this year. This show gave me heavy Inception/Minority Report vibes from both its premise and presentation. It wobbles under the weight of its own concepts towards the end, but it still a fun ride nonetheless.

Gleipnir

Synopsis: The story centers on Shuichi Kagaya, a high school student with an unusual secret. He has the ability to transform into a monster resembling a giant dog mascot costume with a zipper down his back and a large cartoonish smile. After rescuing a strange girl, Claire Aoki, from a warehouse fire, they join each other to search for Claire's older sister, who is assumed to be responsible for the death of their parents.

Thoughts: When the initial rollout for this show began I admit I wasn’t really a fan. I thought it was just going to be a hyper violent, fanservice show. Now in some ways it is that, but if you really look Gleipnir tells a very interesting tale of identity and what it truly means to have a wish granted. The music was pretty good as well, and that’s really something from me as a person who doesn’t pay attention to soundtracks.

Hope this show gets a season 2, but if not I’ll more than likely start the manga.

Wandering Witch: The Journey of Elaina

Synopsis: Fascinated by the stories of Niké, a witch who traveled around the world, Elaina aspires to take the same course. Her determination of studying books and magic leads to her becoming the youngest apprentice witch to pass the sorcery exam.

However, when Elaina attempts to receive training in order to become a full-fledged witch, she is rejected due to her extraordinary talents until she finds Fran, the "Stardust Witch," whom accepts her. After earning her title, the "Ashen Witch," Elaina begins her exploration around the world, visiting and facing all kinds of people and places.

Thoughts: As a fan of the Light Novels, I was pretty excited when it was announced it was getting an anime. For the most part it didn’t disappoint. Though it skipped most of the stories in the novels, the show still told a few good stories that made for some amazingly animated tv.

Talentless Nana

Synposis: In the near future, mysterious monsters known as the "Enemies of Humanity" begin to appear, and with it so do children with supernatural powers called the "Talented". To prepare them for the upcoming battle against these Enemies, all the Talented are sent to a school located on a deserted island, where they have all their daily needs provided for until they graduate and communication with the outside world is forbidden.

One day, a new student named Nana Hiiragi arrives at the school. Her friendly and cheerful personality lets her quickly make friends with the class. However, with Nana comes a whole litany of mysterious occurrences on the island.

Thoughts: I can’t say too much about Nana without spoiling it’s first episode twist, but I will say that its a pretty interesting show with a fairly compelling game of cat and mouse being played.

Now on the the actual list:

10. The Misfit of Demon King Academy

Synopsis: After 2,000 years of countless wars and strife, the demon king Anos Voldigoad made a deal with the human hero, Kanon, to sacrifice his own life to ensure peace could flourish. Reincarnating 2,000 years later, Anos finds that royal demons now harshly rule over lower class hybrid demons in a society that values Anos's pureblood descendants over the demons who interbred with other species, such as humans and spirits.

Finding that magic as a whole has begun to decline and his descendants weaker as a result of the peace he created, Anos, now technically a hybrid himself, decides to reclaim his former title of Demon King, but first, he must graduate from the Demon King Academy where he is labeled a total misfit.

Thoughts: Originally I was going to put Nana in this spot, but its lack of a real ending pushed it out of the list. If only slightly. Misft at Demon Academy is just a fun ride from start to finish. There’s always something about shows with ridiculous OP protagonists (Overlord, One Punch Man, etc.) that gets the blood pumping.

It’s like junk food. Great for the right moment, but not needed all the time.

9. Ikebukuro West Gate Park

Synopsis: A charismatic troubleshooter tries to keep the peace between warring factions while protecting his loved ones in Ikebukuro West Gate Park.

Thoughts: I honestly had no idea what to make of this show when I first saw the synopsis, but I gave it a try on a whim. I’m glad I did because this was easily the dark horse of the Fall season. I really liked the mostly self contained story format the series had, and there were a few very good episodes here. Check it out.

8. My Next Life as a Villainess: All Routes Lead to Doom!

Synopsis: Catarina Claes, the young daughter of a noble family, one day bumps her head and regains memories of her past life as an otaku. It is then that she realizes she has been reborn into the world of the otome game Fortune Lover, reincarnated as the game's villainess who, regardless of what route the player took in the original game, is doomed to be either killed or exiled.

In order to avoid these routes that lead to doom, Catarina begins taking countermeasures to try and avoid things going the same way as the game. This, however, ends up having unexpected consequences on her relations with the other characters of the game's world.

Thoughts: Normally I’m not a fan of Reverse/Otome harem series, but somehow Bakarina managed to pull me in, to a good result. This show was easily one of the best comedies I watched this year with a good cast and a likable protagonist.

7. Deca-Dence

Synopsis: In the fortress city of Deca-dence, the lowly Tanker girl, Natsume, dreams of becoming a Gear warrior following her father's death during a Gadoll attack. She is assigned to a maintenance team led by Kaburagi whom she discovers is more than he appears. Kaburagi has a secret role in eliminating "bugs", humans who threaten Solid Quake's operations.

When Kaburagi discovers that Natsume is listed as dead in the company database, he decides to keep her under observation and offers to train her to fight.

Thoughts: Giant monsters and giant robots. What more do you need? Watch it.

6. A Certain Scientific Railgun T

Synposis: The Daihasei Festival has begun, and that of course means that Tokiwadai Middle School—a prestigious all-girls' middle school—is competing too. Despite the participation of the "Ace of Tokiwadai," Mikoto Misaka, the other students who are participating are still putting their utmost effort into winning, no matter how impossible the feat may seem against her might. However, not all is fun and games. Due to the the festival, Academy City opens to the outside world, and various factions have begun plotting ways to infiltrate the city. Misaka appears to be on their radar, and as the festival proceeds, people lurking from the shadows begin to emerge...

Thoughts: Not really much to say here. It’s the third season of Railgun, but good thing here is that each season of Railgun is better than the last. Truly the best of the To Aru universe.

5. BOFURI: I Don't Want to Get Hurt, so I'll Max Out My Defense.

Synposis: Urged on by her friend, Kaede Honjō begins playing the VRMMORPG NewWorld Online under the name Maple. Not wanting to get hurt, Maple opts to be a shield user with maxed out defense stats, and continues putting every status point she earns in the game into increasing only her defense level.

As a result, she is left with slow foot speed and no magic, but her high defense allows her to endure most hits without taking any damage. This, along with her basic-level creative thinking, allows for her to make unexpected accomplishments in the game, its quests and events. By doing this, she ends up earning all kinds of equally unexpected skills and becomes one of the strongest players in the game. Thoughts: Bofuri is another OP power fantasy like Demon King Academy, but with the twist of being fused with CGDCT. The cast is extremely likable (especially Maple) and when Silver Link wants to they can make the battles REALLY dynamic. A nice comfortable watch, which was sorely needed in 2020.

4. Sleepy Princess in the Demon Castle

Synposis: The story follows Princess Syalis, a young princess who was kidnapped by the demon king, and her quest to sleep well while imprisoned.

Thoughts: A simple premise for a not so simple story. Sleepy Princess for me was easily the best comedy of the year, with plenty of heart and action thrown in as well. I was wary of the series at first, thinking that the premise wouldnt be entertaining for more than a few episodes, but boy was I wrong. Each episode was funnier than the last and Doga Kobo pulled out all the stops to make it look as gorgeous as possible.

3. Jujutsu Kaisen

Synopsis: Idly indulging in baseless paranormal activities with the Occult Club, high schooler Yuuji Itadori spends his days at either the clubroom or the hospital, where he visits his bedridden grandfather. However, this leisurely lifestyle soon takes a turn for the strange when he unknowingly encounters a cursed item. Triggering a chain of supernatural occurrences, Yuuji finds himself suddenly thrust into the world of Curses—dreadful beings formed from human malice and negativity—after swallowing the said item, revealed to be a finger belonging to the demon Sukuna Ryoumen, the "King of Curses." Yuuji experiences first-hand the threat these Curses pose to society as he discovers his own newfound powers. Introduced to the Tokyo Metropolitan Jujutsu Technical High School, he begins to walk down a path from which he cannot return—the path of a Jujutsu sorcerer.

Thoughts: Originally I wasn’t going to put this on the list, because the season doesnt conclude this year, but I decided to make an exception since the show started so strong. Many people were hyping this up as the next big shonen, and they were right. Mappa really went balls to the wall with this show and I’m pretty hype for what happens this cour.

2. Akudama Drive

Synopsis: The bustling metropolis of Kansai, where cybernetic screens litter the neon landscape, may seem like a technological utopia at first glance. But in the dark alleys around the brightly-lit buildings, an unforgiving criminal underbelly still exists in the form of fugitives known as "Akudama." No stranger to these individuals, Kansai police begin the countdown to the public execution of an infamous Akudama "Cutthroat," guilty of killing 999 people. However, a mysterious message is sent to several elite Akudama, enlisting them to free Cutthroat for a substantial amount of money. An invisible hand seeks to gather these dangerous personas in one place, ensuring that the execution is well underway to becoming a full-blown bloodbath.

Thoughts: Want to know what it would be like if Quentin Tarantino made an anime? Well here you go. An adrenaline filled rollercoaster ride from start to finish with a crazy cast of characters and even crazier visuals. There’s even a bit of social commentary in there if you squint.

1. Oregairu Climax

Synopsis: Resolved to become a more independent person, Yukino Yukinoshita decides to smoothen things out with her parents, and the first step toward achieving that goal is to prove herself. As graduation draws closer for the third-year students, Iroha Isshiki—the president of the student council—requests a graduation prom in collaboration with the Volunteer Service Club. Yukino accepts this request of her own volition, hoping to use it as a chance to demonstrate her self-reliance, but what lies ahead of her may prove to be a hard hurdle to cross.

At the same time, a chance for the Volunteer Service Club members to better understand each other presents itself. And thus, Hachiman Hikigaya's hectic and bittersweet high school life begins to draw to a close.

Thoughts: The gif says it all really. I could just leave that there and end this list on a somewhat high note, but I’ll explain it.

Now objectively, there were better shows than this one (off the top of my head JJK comes to mind) but when you combine all three seasons there is no contest in my mind that Oregairu had one of the most perfect endings to a series I have ever seen.

It was an ending 7 years in the making. The first season in 2013 was good, the second season two years later was even better, but Climax was Oregairu at is absolute best and that goes beyond the story and characters. A lot of praise also has to go to Studio feel., who took over animation duties from Brain’s Base in season 2. While BB’s animation was much more accurate to the LN, feel’s more realistic designs fit the more mature direction the story was starting to go, giving the anime some of its best moments.

Watching Hachiman, Yukino, and Yui grow and change from naive teenagers to somewhat understood young adults was amazing and sometimes heartbreaking to watch. Hachiman’s search to find something “genuine”, Yukino’s desire to be independent, and Yui struggling with her feelings of love and friendship all clash and compliment in very interesting ways that makes these three characters even more relatable than they were before.

Lots of long running series don’t stick to landing, but in my eyes Oregairu stuck it perfectly. That’s why its my favorite anime of 2020.

Here’s to 2021.

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breaking-shadows · 4 years

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A writer’s perspective...

I’m an Elriel shipper and an avid reader but I’m also a writer, so I wanted to add a writer’s perspective. This wasn’t intended to provide clarity on Elriel or otherwise, just a few thoughts. I apologise in advance for the long ramble.

When we start to get the first interactions between Elain and Azriel in ACOMAF, the stakes are simply not high enough, or there at all. It would have been so easy to have the “quiet” sister paired with the “quiet” brother. But who would have really cared and what impact would it have had on the reader? Very little, I imagine. Graysen wasn’t an established character that anyone cared about so if Elain discarded him for a beautiful, brooding Illyrian, then who’d blame her.

Personally, I would not spend three books dropping breadcrumbs to hint at a build-up between characters if I had no intention of making them end-game. But would I make them suffer to get their happily ever after? Absolutely! Would I put them through the ringer to make them deserve it? Of course, my readers would expect nothing less.

Even if I first intended the two characters to be together and then changed my mind, I would have fizzled it out and drawn a line under it asap. This hasn’t happened with Elain and Azriel, if anything we’ve had the opposite, and we’re at the stage now where this is a love they’re going to have to fight for, and as a writer and a reader, they’re the best kind.

Obstacle 1 – Mor

While Mor was never really a barrier for Elriel to overcome, Azriel’s feelings for her are still something that needs to be addressed. We’ve had hints of it in ACOSF, Azriel’s gazes of pining and longing towards her are less, but this is an issue that still needs resolving in the upcoming books. For their well-being if nothing else. Plot wise, it adds very little tension because as readers we know it will never be, as a writer, it needs an honest conversation between these characters.

Obstacle 2 – Lucien

We’ve had the set-up of mates and all the importance that comes with it with Feyre and Rhys, and now Nesta and Cassian.

Lucien, a beloved character, who deserves the world, is introduced as Elain’s mate during a highly charged, fraught ending in ACOMAF. Now as a reader, my reaction was: Oh! I thought she’d end up with the quiet one. And as a writer it was: Oh! What of she ends up with the quiet one? Suddenly, the stakes are a little higher, we have a barrier, there is something in the way of an easy get-together. Especially when we learn more about mating and the Blood Duel which is still legal in the Autumn Court.

At first, when Lucien goes to the Night Court with Feyre, it is because his mate is there, and he is nothing more than a guest in their court. Elain isn’t interested in the mating bond with Lucien, so fine. Reject the bond and move on with Azriel, very little to overcome. Except, fast-forward to ACOSF and Lucien’s dynamic has changed with the Night Court. Court politics come in to play. He is no longer a guest, but an ally that ties several of the courts together. They cannot afford to lose the support of the other courts. Which leads me on to:

Obstacle 3 – Rhys

I have read lots of posts with people furious with Rhys saying he was OOC etc. For him and Feyre, the dynamic changed in ACOSF, therefore, he had to change with it. He has a pregnant mate; which instinct tells him to protect at all costs. They have just faced a brutal war that affected them all and can’t put his people through that again, can’t put the ones he loves through that again and there is a shadow of one on the horizon.

All great plot points aside, that one scene in Azriel’s POV and we’re hit with the forbidden love trope. We have longing, we have tension, we have a barrier in the form of someone Azriel loves and respects deeply. The stakes are not suddenly high, they’re astronomical. What a mountain to overcome!

Obstacle 4 – Azriel and Elain

Elain needs to become something to be reckoned with. I loved the glimpses we got of her on ACOSF, she was beginning to fight back, she had bite, but now we know there is more to come – and I for one cannot wait. And as character development – oh the places she could go. She has feelings for Azriel, that is established, so no qualms there.

Azriel – this boy is a mess. Personally, he needs to love himself before he can offer anyone anything, but what a beautiful journey that could be. I didn’t lose my shit at his POV, it was a snap-shot of a moment. No, it didn’t scream of love for Elain, but previous actions have shown feelings that go beyond sexual, sitting, talking with her until the early hours etc. The scene was designed to tell us how much he wanted her. A trait often described with SJM’s males. He needs to get his shit together.

Obstacle 5 – Gwyn

Now, let’s look at the addition of Gwyn (who I adore btw). This one seems to have the ability to make or break Elriel. From a writer’s POV she has amazing potential. Azriel already has feelings for Elain so she isn’t really something to overcome, but she has already caused tension. I don’t see her as a distraction, given her background, (poor girl has been through enough) I wouldn’t want her treated like that and nothing in Azriel’s POV indicated that. She could be a friend, a different type of friend he so badly needs, a confidante, someone to help him heal. Could be.

We also have the potential of misunderstandings, which can add immense tension to a relationship. Will Elain see Az and Gwyn together and have her heart broken because she thinks he has feelings for her when really he’s confiding in his love for Elain? Maybe. (Not even touching on that necklace!) At this stage, for SJM all things are possible, and that is incredibly exciting.

Let’s say SMJ does indeed intend Gwyn and Azriel to be end-game. We’ve had sprinklings of interactions between them ranging from polite to sweet to a little flirty.

The moment with Gwyn in Azriel’s POV, I’ll have to admit, knocked me for six. I can see it; I can see them together and how she would be good for him. But for it to negate four books worth of build-up, I don’t see it happening, from a writer’s POV, and as a reader, I’d wonder what the point was. But I’m not SJM and there is a possibility she could go down this route. For me, for this to be worthwhile in the eyes of the reader, their story is going to have to be EPIC, otherwise the pay-off isn’t worth it. But as a writer, what a journey that would be.

In compense, Elain would have to do something magnificent, would have to step into her own. She herself could become something to fear, the Persephone to Koschei’s Hades. (I hope not but look at the potential). The only thing here is the relationship between Az and Gwyn. His feelings for Elain are the only source of conflict. It’s possible Azriel has had enough conflict and just wants to love and be loved in return. Gywn could offer than, but I think it’s missing something.

I think my main point, though poorly executed, is writing is a rollercoaster, and the readers are the ones in the carriages with white-tipped knuckles, gripping on tight. If it consisted of a 2-metre straight track, you’d wonder why the hell you bothered. So, however this ends, sit back and enjoy the ride and be kind to each other, whoever you ship. It will be heart-breaking and gut-wrenching, and emotional. It will hurt like hell, but by god it will be worth it.

Didn’t expect this post to be so long – forgive me!

#elriel #elain #elain archeron #elain x azriel #azriel #acotar #acosf

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fandom-puff · 4 years

Text

Mistake

Pairing: Alfie Solomons x ShelbySister!Reader

Requested by: anon

Summary: Alfie knew he made a mistake when he pushed you away, and when you show up in the middle of a meeting with Tommy, it all comes flooding back to him

AN: sorry writing has been few and far between this past week. I’m honestly not feeling much inspiration to write the requests in my inbox (don’t worry- if I’m not writing yours I’ll say- plz don’t bombard me asking if I’m doing this that abd the other!). Also, tomorrow, I’m gonna make a start on the kinktober stuff, so I can get it all queued up for the relevant days. Anyways, enjoy.

Gif creds to owner

Warnings: swearing

He remembered it, plain as day.

The way your smile faded into a deep frown; the way your bright eyes dulled, before filling up with tears; the movement of your lips, despite no words coming out; the cream cake you had left on his desk as you fled the bakery before the tears could fall.

He couldn’t bring himself to eat the pretty cake, slightly squashed from being in your bag, the icing a little lopsided...

He let ollie have it when he told him to cancel they table at the restaurant he was meant to be taking you to that very night. “Shame, that, Boss. She seemed to really like you,” ollie said, leaving the room before he could get a clip round the ear.

“Yeah... yeah it is,” Alfie had mumbled into nothingness, staring at the door rattling in its frame. He brooded for weeks, hardly seeing anyone, snapping at those he did. But it was more than his life’s worth to even think about seeing the Shelby girl as much as he had been. If word of your illicit relationship reached Birmingham, all deals with the brothers would be off- as well as, most likely, his head.

Or cock, he thought shrewdly, sighing as a telegram from Birmingham came through. It had been three months since he last saw hide nor hair of a Shelby, and he could only imagine what Tommy wanted with him now.

***

Life in small heath was, admittedly, not as glamorous as it was in London, and no where near as exciting as the bakery in Camden Town. Still, it was your home, and you adored every inch of it. On your first night back- the train had been delayed- you went to your aunt Pol’s not wanting to deal with Tommy’s bombardment of questions at that hour. Once Polly had lowered the gun she held to your forehead as you came into the house unannounced, she pulled you into a tight hug and fixed you some whiskey, sensing that tea probably wasn’t strong enough.

“I’ll talk to tommy,” she said gently. “Tell him the deals off. He shouldn’t have sent you in the first place, not to London. Not on your own,” she said, before tucking you up in bed. You were glad no one had told her that her niece had been to barter with Solomons all those months ago (she would never have allowed it in the first place). Even if she sensed your heart shattering into a million pieces, she was none the wiser to who caused your heartache. You were fine with that.

***

That was until three months since your return- and not a word said to tommy about the issue with Solomons- you barged into Tommy’s office.

“Cakes and pies for you, boys! Can go running a business on empty bellies- shit. Sorry Tom. No one told me you had a meeting. Wasn’t in the diary,” you said bashfully as John grinned at you.

“Not to worry, YN. Mr Solomons dropped by,” tommy said cooly as John took the cakes off you and put them on the counter with the whiskey. “Polly seems to think that all business deals with Mr Solomons here have been rejected. Deal’s off, she told me,” you gulped under the gaze of your older brothers, biting you lip slightly as Alfie turned slowly to you, the wide brim of his hat casting shadows over your face.

“Why don’t you come and sit down, Miss YN?” He said. You squeezed your eyes shut before opening them. It had been so long since you’d heard him speak.

“Don’t you bloody tell our sister what to do,” Arthur growled from the side of Tommy’s desk.

“Shut up Arthur,” you and tommy said at the same time as Tom directed you to sit down next to Alfie anc across from him. “Now, YN, I sent you to London last year for a very simple purpose. To get Mr Solomons on our side. Now, you come back to small heath eight months later, telling me that there’s no deal. That mr Solomons got cold feet. Now that, YN, is bullshit. Because we all know what a negotiatior you are. Lord knows, it’s a wonder we got anything done while you were little, forever insisting we teach you things you had no need to know,”

You looked to your knees, before looking back up at tommy, decided to fix him with a matching icy stare. You would not be lectured by your brother, not now that you were a woman yourself.

“And then, three months after her return,” he continued. “It comes to light, Solomons, that there was a deal. But you sent my sister away with no real explanation,” he turned to Alfie. “And I’d like to... put that to rights, if you will. Your lot need us, Alfie, as much as we need you. Now. Explain. Why’s my sister sent away despite her very reasonable deal, Hm?”

It was quiet for a moment, and you hoped to any god who was listening that Alfie would bluff his way out with one of his meandering speeches.

“Right, well, you see right,” a promising start... “you send your little sister, who’s a proper little woman, right, down into my bakery, with her pretty eyes and her flirty laughing, yeah? You send your little sister down to Camden Town to seduce me,”

Shut the fuck up, Alfie, you thought.

“And yeah, I admit it worked for a bit, yeah, took her out a few times an’ all,” Tommy’s eyes hardened, and Arthur and John had murderous expressions on their faces. “We was getting along alright, wasn’t we, YN, love?” You nodded, your jaw tense. You would certainly be in trouble with your brothers after this. “But then I sent her away. Told her ‘nah, YN, pet, we can’t keep this up, right? Too fuckin’ dangerous for you down here, yeah. And what would your brothers think, eh? What if you end up pregnant or summin’” I said to her, right, and sent her back up to this shithole to keep her out of trouble,” he leaned back in his chair, as if his explanation had solved everything.

It most certainly had not.

If looks could kill, Alfie Solomons would definitely be six feet under, under the harsh glare of the Shelby brothers. You snapped.

“For fucks sake!” You cried. “So I’m seeing Alfie fucking Solomons! So what?” You demanded. “What’re your going to do about it, eh? Cut him a new smile and have half of London after us, eh? You said it yourself, Tommy, we need Solomons as much as his lot need the Shelby’s!”

Your chest rose and fell with fury, and Alfie couldn’t help the gaze of adoration that he bestowed upon you.

“YN,” Arthur said, his measured voice forced, as if he was trying very hard not to shout. “If this man... this-this bastard has hurt you or threatened you-”

“Oh shut up, Arthur. Not every man is a threat to me,”

“But YN, you’re-”

“I’m what, John, eh? Delicate? Stupid? Too young? Fuck off. How many times have aunt Pol, Ada and I fixed your messes, eh? I think I know what I’m doing!”

You rounded on tommy, who was suspiciously quiet. “Alfie Solomons is a very dangerous man, YN,” he said steadily.

“Oi, Tommy, mate, I am right here. I let Arthur slide, yeah, Cos he’s off his rocker,”

“Shut it, Alfie,” you hissed, and he held his hands up in surrender. “Tom. I’ve grown up around dangerous men. All my life, I’ve had dangerous men around me. Dangerous men walked me to school. Dangerous men helped with my homework. Dangerous men took me for my first proper drink. Dangerous men have and always will be my family,” you spoke with such passion, your eyebrows firmly knitted together as you spoke, jaw set the way it always did when you refused to back down. “I am not a child anymore, boys. I can’t be tucked away nice and quiet in Small Heath all my life. Just be glad that you’re aware of this now and not when I’m four months pregnant with a baby I’ve no intention of getting rid of!” You swiped angrily at the tears that had trickled down your cheeks as you glared tommy down.

Sighing, he stubbed out his cigarette and stood up, straightening his jacket. “That’s that then,” he said, beckoning an unwilling Arthur and John to follow him (both murmuring angrily and confused).

“Oh and Solomons? I expect to see a ring on my sister’s finger by Sunday,” he said, before slamming the door shut.

Tags: @lotsoffandomrecs @rai-strangebr @peakyswritings @fifty-shadesof-tommyshelby @zodiyack @haphazardhufflepuff

@raccoon-is-my-spirit-animal @anyataylcrjoys @hiddensapphic @rabeccablake @halepea @eleven-times-lively

#alfie solomons x you #alfie solomons headcanon #alfie solomons imagine #alfie solomons #alfie solomons x shelby!reader #shelby!sister #shelby!reader #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinders oneshot #request #imagine #peaky blinders x reader

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lubdubsworld · 3 years

Text

Make you mine.

One Shot.

!8 +

Hoseok x OC

Angst , fluff

OC is a popular solo idol in love with street dancer Jung Hoseok.

~~~~~~~~~~~

“One date. Come on...let me take you out for coffee. Once, just once?” I sounded like a broken record at this point , hands gripping his arm as he leaned against the table, writing out something about positions on his notebook.

Jung Hoseok, impatient as always, gave me a shove, causing me to trip and land on my butt.

“Ow.” I muttered glaring at him. He stared down at me, unimpressed.

“I told you not to come in here when I’m working. No. I won’t get coffee with you. Now go climb into that million dollar car of yours and get the fuck away from me.” He said sharply and i flinched at the coldness in his tone.

I swallowed. Grinning wide, i ignored the sharp sting of his rejection. i could process the hurt later. For now, i had to change tactics. Lifting myself up, I rubbed my tailbone , moving closer and trying to peer into his notebook.

“Okay...no coffee..” I smiled, touching his arm gently and pulling back again when he glared pointedly at me., “ That’s fine . What’s your plan when this ends? I don’t have anything on my schedule for the next two hours. We could just hang out? Talk about stuff? Your sister told me you’ve been working on a mixtape recently? I’d love to listen ....”

Hoseok groaned.

“Leah, go get your fucking hair done or buy out the latest Gucci collection or whatever it is that you rich snobby bitches do in your free time. Stop hounding me... we have nothing in common? Why on earth would i want to hang out with you?” He snapped.

I shrugged.

“Because of my rocking hot bod and angelic voice? Because I happen to be the nation’s sweetheart? Because i got voted, “most likely to offer you her umbrella in a thunderstorm “ last week? I’m kind and beautiful and sexy. I can cook you your favorite dishes and suck your dick under the table while you’re eating it? “

One of his students, who just happened to be drinking water a couple of feet away from us, spat it all back out, wheezing as he gave me a look of horror.

I gave him a sweet smile and a wave. He blushed red and smiled wide at that and my smile faltered. \

I was sick of the adoration, sick of the applause, the praise , the compliments and the flattery. Sick of the stage itself and I couldn’t wait for my contract to end this year. I wanted to get back to songwriting and singing in my studio. Releasing vocal tracks only. No more make up or pastel dresses or bunny years. No more aegyo in fansigns , no more pretending to get scared by fucking confetti on the stage. No more giggling when a guy looks at me. No more shying away from anything even remotely adult because i was delicate.

I was drawn out of my thoughts by Hoseok clearing his throat.

“So you’re not leaving?” He tilted his head in question.

“I love you.” I said simply.

Hoseok sighed, reaching out and gripping my elbow hard. He yanked me close, till I was right in front of him and I licked my lips, shamelessly staring at the plump redness of his lips. He gripped me harder at that, fingers digging into the tender flesh of my arm and I gasped.

My entire body sang at the contact and it was impossible to explain how it made me feel. Hoseok looked angry. He was angry. But I didn’t particularly care. Not when he was touching me like this.

I stared at his face, his beautiful fucking face with the sharp angular features, his dreamy body ,broad shoulders and lean waist, those mile long legs and those thick thighs.

I wanted something raw and real and heady and strong and there was nothing more breathtaking than the man in front of me. A real man. The kind of man you wouldn’t mind getting on your knees for, even in public. the kind of man who makes your breath catch in your lung. Makes your lips part and your thighs wet.

He smiled.

“You don’t know what the fuck love is, you little--- ” He shook his head , swallowing the insult and I bit my lips, making to move closer but his grip tightened holding me away from his body. Pain began shooting up y arm but I ignored it.

“Then show me...I want you. “ I said softly.

“I’m not a sextoy you can buy because you saw me in a catalogue. if you’re horny go fuck one of your cotton candy haired oppas. ” his free hand shot up, gripping my jaw .

I wanted to scream .

“That’s not what this is.” I choked a little when his thumb slipped down to my neck and squeezed . I kept my eyes trained on him, refusing to back away. I’d done a lot of that in the early months. But after nine months, this crush or whatever sure wasn’t going away. and i wasn’t even going to try denying how badly I wanted him.

“What is it then? Because right now all I’m seeing is a desperate little slut, so eager for attention she’s willing to beg for my di-”

“Hob-ah...let her go.” Min Yoongi’s calm voice rang out from behind us and hoseok smirked. He stepped away and I knew he’d bruised my chin and my arm. But I resisted the urge to rub against the skin.

“One date.” I whispered. “Please.”

He smiled , his face softening .

“Never in a million years. Get the fuck out of here before I call security.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Yoongi watched Hoseok go through the routine one more time, flat on his back, head cradled in his arms .

“Why do you keep refusing that girl?” He called out .

Hoseok didn’t stop dancing.

“Cos I don’t like her.” he grunted, hips rolling in tune to the music, sweat dripping down his neck.

Yoongi scoffed.

“You do know I’ve seen your search history right? For someone who doesn’t like her you sure spend way too many of your waking hours watching her fancams. ‘

That made Hoseok pause.

“Whatever hyung, she’s just joking around. “

“For nine whole months? i think she means business.”

“What business? Fuck me once and leave... not into that.”

“ Or maybe she wants to get to know you...”

“What’ there to know hyung... nothing that would interest someone like her, for sure. She probably spends more many a day than i make in a month. I’m nowhere near her level.”

Yoongi sighed.

Hoseok’s mind seemed to be made up.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When i first heard that they wanted me to debut Solo, I’d been so flattered. Debuting solo meant I would have no one else to please or get along with. i could do my own thing and just the fact that they trusted me enough for that made me feel on top of the world.

But as time went by , I realized that all it meant was I would be saddled with bone-crushing loneliness.

Alone in the waiting rooms.

Alone on the stage.

Alone while the other female artists crowded together.

It was lonely on the top and I had to smile and laugh through it all.

But the loneliness was most pronounced when I was stuck without a friend. A girl i could confide in and trust .

When everything is silent and quiet, that is when the loneliness inside you screamed the loudest.

I sat with my knees drawn up , leaning against the wall and staring out of the bay windows, watching the rain pound the glass.

And in the vast emptiness of my apartment, it was always silent and quiet.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Alright , that’s it!!!” Hoseok grabbed my arm, hauling me straight off the small stool i was sitting on and I yelped, surprised.

“Hoseok-”

“Get the fuck out of here. I know for a fact that you’re only looking for someone to play around with and I’m not going to be the poor pathetic sod who get caught on camera with you only to get hated on and cancelled and whatever the fuck else your cult does..... I want you out of my life.!!” He shouted and I dug my heels into the ground, yanking my arm away from him.

“I don’t fucking care about any of that. My contract ends in two months ...I’m not going to sign back on with my damned company!! They can’t control who i see and neither can my fans!!”

“You’re going to quit your company...? the biggest label in the country? You expect me to believe that?!” He scoffed.

“It’s true! I’ve had enough of being on the stage. I don’t enjoy it anymore ! All its done is “ left me sad and alone and without a single friend.

‘”Paid for all your ridiculously expensive lifestyle?” He sneered.

I sighed.

“You’re obsessed with my money Hoseok. I’ve never flaunted it in front of you. I’d be happy eating dukkbeokkie from a street stall with you. I don’t care about money or my company.”

“Really? you don’t care about your company?” he shook his head in disbelief .

“I don’t.” i insisted.

“then how about this. I’ll be done with the day at nine o clock tonight. Meet me at the dance studio at ten. Come alone. just you. And not in that flashy car of yours. Take a fucking cab. Don’t bring your fucking bodyguard or your manager. Don’t even tell them where you’re going. If you can do that, I’ll believe you.” He said softly.

I swallowed.

“I...that’s... that’s dangerous.”

He scoffed.

“Thought so. Your money and your label is a part of you. And they’re things i can’t stand. So just stop-”

“Okay!” I blurted out, heart pounding.

Hoseok stopped talking, staring at me with a frown.

“What?”

“Okay.. i’ll... I’ll take a cab from my apartment.... I’ll come meet you at the studio. “ I whispered.

“Don’t be a fucking idiot.” He said harshly.

I felt my anger rise.

“You asked me whether I can put aside my money and label.... I can! I fucking can!”

“Just leave Leah! ” He turned on his heel.

“I’m going to be there!! At ten , tonight. And if I show up and you don’t, let’s just admit that you’re a fucking coward, Jung Hoseok!!!” I screamed at him.

He didn’t even look back.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~`

The studio is deserted.

Of course it is.

Feeling a little bit like a fool, I wrap my arms around myself, sinking into the shadows as I walk up and down the hallways. Its still just a little past ten. I could wait a while. Just in case he changed his mind.

Ten minutes. Fifteen minutes.

I swallowed, the darkness seeming to close in on me.

Footsteps made my ears perk up but then anxiety spiked when i heard unfamiliar voices.

“....she fucking pants after him like a bitch in heat and the bastard is too much of a pussy to take her up on the offer.” One of them says .

“I know. Holier than thou Hoseok. Fucking prick. Like if you don’t want that a grade cunt, why not just pass it on to one of us huh?”

“....fuck ...just wanna run into her in some dark alley. I’ll stuff my fingers in her whore mouth and give it to her nice and hard , like she obviously wants. “

Nausea rising, I stumbled to my feet and made to move away but they had already turned the corner, both of them stopping at the sight of me.

I felt my heart leap up into throat... stark terror blooming inside me. I opened my mouth to scream but my voice wouldn’t come , I was too petrified to even breath.

I turned on my heel, adrenaline making me run really hard.

I’d barely moved a few inches when i crashed into a very familiar chest.

Strong arms wrapped around me, drawing me into his warmth and i heard Hoseok’s voice growl from above me.

“You’re fired. “ His voice trembled with rage. “ You have five minutes to get the fuck out of here.”

Both of them stood frozen.

“Hyungnim...we’re...”

“If you leave right now you’ll be walking out. If not you’re gonna be needing a fucking ambulance , Jaehyun.”

The sound of them scarpering away made me relax, exhaling in sweet blessed relief as I sagged into his arms. The cry that I couldn’t vocalize earlier came back with a vengeance and i choked, pushing away from him.

“I... I’m... i need to go.” I sobbed out, my nerves completely frayed as I stumbled a little. Hoseok’s hands reached out gripping my waist when i lost my balance and I flinched trying to pull away.

“Leah...wait. Leah...” He said , sounding upset and i felt like a stupid, pathetic fool.

“They were right. You’re.... you don’t want me. That’s not your fault...I’m such a... “ The tears threatened but i refused to cry in front of him. That’s what my big, expensive apartment was for.

“Leah...no. Its not fucking true...Fucking look at me, Damn it” He grabbed my shoulders shaking me and i was forced to stare at his face.

“I like you.” He gritted out. “ Fuck I may even be a little bit in love with you and I feel like the worst kind of bastard, making you come here tonight..alone but i swear I didn’t think you would turn up... It was so fucking reckless baby.... You could’ve gotten hurt, why would you come here....”

“you like me?” I whispered, stunned.

He stopped , sighing.

“Yes... I do.. Always have. i just... I wasn’t sure if it was a good idea what with who you are and....You deserve someone who can spoil you and I’m far from being made of gold....”

I cut him off with a kiss, throwing my arms around his neck and pressing my lips against his.

He laughed and kissed me back, lips soft and gentle against mine.

“It’s a good idea. “ I whispered, nodding my head.

He hummed, rubbing his nose against mine, gripping my thighs and hauling me up into his arms. I wrapped my legs around his waist, clinging to him.

“We have a lot to talk about.” He said softly.

“We do.” i agreed.

His lips pressed against mine again.

“But than can wait?” He asked softly.

“Yes it can.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

author’s note : just a snipper for that prompt i wrote earlier :D I’ll probably make one more part of this later :D

#hoseok fics #'hoseok smut

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teddytdr · 3 years

Text

The Stranger

Warnings: NSFW, mentions of abuse.

Word count: 3223

This is my first Elriel fic, so be indulgent with me please!

I would love to write more, let me know if you have any requests! I’m open to ANYTHING and EVERYTHING so feel free to let loose with the suggestions ;)

( However, I draw the line at Gwynriel and Elucien)

“ I think I’m falling in love with you.”

“Don’t.” He snapped lowly.

The rain was pounding against the window in his living room, the sound matching the one of my heart nearly beating out of my chest. I knew he would say that. Stupid me for hoping otherwise, even predictability couldn’t help ease the pain that crept over my insides. Stupid, Stupid, Stupid. Why couldn’t I keep my fucking mouth shut.

Closing my eyes as I wait for this perfect bubble to burst, the memories surge through me.

I met him two weeks ago, and it felt like I’d known him forever. As cliché as it may sound, it’s the truth. As soon as i’d looked into his hazel eyes, everything seemed to click. Like an answer to a question I never wanted to ask. It felt like something inside me went taut, stretching towards him, trying to reach him. I thought he felt it too, from the look of realization that swept across his beautiful face and the way his lips twitched upward as he retracted his hands from my waist, leaving me so cold.

“I’m sorry, are you okay?” He whispered, searching my eyes for the answer.

I stood there frozen, staring at him in confusion. Oh! Because he ran into me and almost sent me crashing to the ground. Right! Shaking the thoughts from my head, “Yes! I’m fine. You should watch where you’re going.” I snapped back, lifting an eyebrow.

Gaping at me, his gaze searing, “I was looking.”, like it was a fact I was too slow to comprehend.

Oh! This man had some fucking nerve. This inhumanly gorgeous man had some fucking nerve.

I scowled at him in response, my fingers twitching on his strong arms.

He glared back, brows creasing as his eyes dropped to my lips and lingered there, “I feel like I know you, have we met before?”, his voice as incredulous as i’m sure he felt.

God his voice sounded like the night itself, so sensuous and velvety. Never in my life has a stranger left such a mark on me.

But that was the thing, since the moment we crashed into each other, it felt like I could finally breath again. Like a piece I didn’t know was missing has finally made it’s way back to me. This stranger that didn’t feel like a stranger at all. I suddenly realized we were still standing close enough that I could actually taste him if only I dared.

Lost in my daydreams, I didn’t realize what was happening until his lips grazed mine ever so softly. His kiss, somewhere between a brush and a breath, tasted like promises long forgotten, like souls awakening upon recognition of their mate. This kiss, his kiss, is nothing like I’ve ever thought a stranger could make me feel. It felt like my insides had been set ablaze and I was falling into him again, wanting to melt into him.

I brought my hands to the nape of his neck and pulled him closer, crashing his chest to mine. He sighed into my mouth and I opened delicately to slide my tongue against his lower lip, asking for entry, asking for more.

Groaning at the invitation, he let me in and our tongues finally met. Bolts of lightning ran down my spine as his silken tongue traced the roof of my mouth. His arms came to wrap around me, lifting me slightly off the ground.

Realization slapped me so hard, making me pull away from this mind-numbing kiss. I’ve never been kissed this way! Also, I’d never kiss a stranger! I must’ve lost my fucking mind. Opening my eyes hesitantly, I find his already on me, blazing hazel on my brown.

“I think you should come home with me.” He purrs, holding me tighter than he was seconds ago.

What? Fuck me. What am I doing? I can’t. I really want to.

My heart is pounding so hard, I think he can hear it. I’m insane, this is insane. I know this, and I still-

“Yes!”, the answer leaved me before I could even form the thought.

Smiling knowingly, he eased me back to the ground, tucked my hair behind my ear, grabbed my hand and brought me to his place.

What happened after that foolish, life-alteringly dangerous decision was the best two weeks of my life. We spent every waking hour together, tangled up in each other, sitting in front of the TV or eating the food we cooked. Basically, we were joined at the hip. Every second I spent with him, talking to him, made me want to drown in him. Even more so than I already was.

We spoke about our lives, our fears, our regrets, our hopes. He told me about his fucked up childhood and how it left him with scars that ran deeper than the ones on his hands, a story I can’t even let myself think about because it brings tears to my eyes and makes my heart break for him. I told him things about myself that I never even told my sisters. I shared the story of my engagement to a psychotic, abusive ex-fiancé and how it left me in pieces. I was completely enraptured in this man. This seemingly perfect man.

But I learned things about him without him having to tell me any of them. For instance, how he often hid his hands from me without even realizing it, how he smiled every time I smiled, or laughed when I laughed -even if we were laughing about two completely different things. How he stared at me like he was scared to find me gone if he looked away for just one second, or how his hands shook when they came in contact with my skin. Even how he always asked for permission before touching me, even just to wipe chocolate from the corners of my mouth, because I always having been a messy eater. These subtleties scream romantic to me, even if telling him so would earn me and incredulous scoff. So I kept it to myself, close to my heart and protected it fiercely.

The fact was, I was falling hard and fast for him. The thrill of it was both paralyzing and intoxicating. A feeling I was afraid to admit i’ve never experienced before, especially with the monster I was supposed to marry.

This beautiful man has both ruined and saved my life, and he still has no inkling.

Coming back to reality, “Well that’s too damn bad!” I say, waving my arms around in despair. I am so fucking scared of returning to my sorry existence, these past weeks have been the best of my life and I can’t even fathom going back to how I was before him. I am so fucking petrified of losing this bubble we lost ourselves in, but it’s better to ruin it myself before I get hurt again.

“This isn’t normal. You think I don’t know that this is just a dream? That we are in a perfect bubble, and that a reality-check is going to burst it soon enough?” I continue, my heart is beating so loud I’m afraid he can hear it from across the room.

“This is a fling. This is a fantasy. It’s not meant to last”, my voice rising higher and shaking in barely concealed terror, “Is it?”

I see the words hit home as his body goes rigid and his nostrils flare. We stand like this, separated by a few feet, breathing heavily, for what feels like eternity. Frozen in time, the scalding ice creeping up my bones is burning every hope and dream I foolishly believed up until this moment. And still, I can’t leave. I don’t want to go, my very being is screaming at me to stay right here.

He takes a step closer, then stops, like a hunter trying to corner an unpredictable beast. From this close, I can see his tightly leashed rage, his fists are clenched at his sides, knuckles paper-white, his eyes so bleak, so emotionless. I’ve never seen him like this, this vision so at odds with the patient and quiet man I’ve come to know.

“You think this isn’t real?” He asks in utter disbelief.

I can only stare at him, my pulse ringing in my ears as I wait for the rejection.

“You think this isn’t real?” He screams, body shaking so much I worry he might be nearing a stroke.

Fuck, I definitely should’ve kept my mouth shut.

Moving closer to him, I search his eyes for any sign of feeling as I lash out, “It’s not real, isn’t that what you’re-“

“Don’t.” He interrupts me viciously, his face is taut, his mouth etched into a deep snarl. He comes to stand directly in front of me, his chest heaving, throat bobbing and eyes searching my face for something.

“Don’t assume you know what I mean. Not about this.” gesturing between us, like there’s something visible, tangible, in the space separating our bodies.

He’s so close, I can practically taste his harsh words before they fall out of his lips, “Don’t you dare assume what I feel.” Seeing the doubt in my eyes, he continues before I can even think of opening my mouth to retort.

“I don’t know what this is. I don’t understand how it’s possible that I’m already so attached to you, I can barely stand the separation when you go to the bathroom. That I can barely breathe when our eyes meet. That you already feel so familiar, like I’ve finally found the missing piece. That I can’t imagine ever being apart from you. That waking up with you is by far what I cherish the most. That seeing you smile takes my breath away. That touching you is like an answer to a question I never thought I so desperately wanted to ask.” His breathless words skitter across my senses like shadows.

I can’t even breathe as I let him continue.

“How is it possible that we know so little about each other, yet you know more about me than even my friends do? How is it possible that looking at you crying right now, makes me want to rip my own heart out? How is is possible that I’m fucking terrified of losing you after knowing you for only two weeks?” He looks at me with such agony and hope, silver lining his exquisite eyes, that the sheer intensity of it makes my insides clench.

I didn’t realize I was crying. Raising a shaking hand to my cheek, I wipe away a tear.

“I don’t know. This hurts so much.“, shuddering as the pain rakes over my soul, I try to look at him but my vision is blurry. “I shouldn’t have said anything, I’ll leave.” I whisper weakly, turning to move away from him.

I barely make it a step back before I feel a warm hand wrap around my wrist, pulling me back to him.

His voice hoarse, “Don’t. Don’t leave.” His hands gripping my wrists tightly.

I look up, seeing how we are, our chests touching on every inhale. “I don’t want you to go. Please.”

The pain in his eyes nearly brings me to my knees, but instead, I cover my face with my hands and let the tears fall freely, my head dropping to his chest as he brings a hand to my hair, stroking it soothingly.

I brought this upon myself the moment I decided to come home with him, and further proved my stupidity when I let the fantasy of him sink itself so deep in me.

Its talons shattering all the walls and defences of my mind, crawling down my spine and breaking a path between my ribs, then making itself comfortable in the shadow of what was once my heart. It’s very essence flowing through my blood and secretly mending every festering wound. It’s ethos plucking every memory of bruising slaps, bone-breaking punches, and terror-inducing threats from my soul and replacing them with warm scarred hands, comforting hazel eyes, sweet smiling lips and hopefully honest words. Replacing them with him, this too perfect stranger that changed everything in so little time.

I drop my hands from my face and fix my stare on his chest, the sound of his voice pulling me from my innermost revelations, “I’m sorry. I was so scared this whole time. I was just scared that our perfect bubble would burst and I didn’t want it to. I don’t ever want it to. I was scared about how quickly I fell in-

My shocked gasp seemed to cut him off, making him realize the enormity of what he was about to admit. Looking at me with surprise and something else I can’t bring myself to decipher but feel in my every bone.

“Say it.” I order him softly, not breaking eye contact, I bring my hand up to trace his full lips with my fingers.

With an understanding smirk gracing his sinful mouth “I’m in love with you.”

The air leaves my lungs as I crash my lips onto his in answer.

Moaning at the touch, he brings a hand to the nape of my neck, titling my head to better taste me. I think I could die from the pleasure his kiss brings me. The way he kisses me makes my heart stop every time he does it. He kisses me like it’s the last time he ever will, and that is the best feeling in the world.

Our tongues dancing together makes me whimper with need for him. I don’t think I could ever tire of kissing him. I don’t ever want to stop kissing him.

Growling in approval at the sound, he lifts me up so I can wrap my legs around him, bringing our cores together.

Before I can even make sense of what’s happening, he sits me on the counter and steps into the space between my thighs, pulling me flush against every inch of his hard body.

I want to fuse my everything to his everything. I want our bodies so close, that we cannot tell where we end and where we begin. I want our souls melting and reshaping into an ever-glowing one.

Raw desire riding me, I slip my hands through his soft midnight black hair, tugging hard enough to make him groan.

“What are you doing to me?” I whine as his mouth moves to my neck, sucking and nipping lightly. His hands glide across my back before settling on my hips and digging his fingers into my flesh, enough to undoubtedly leave lovely bruises. Something I never thought I’d be able to accept again, but with him, i’m ready. With him, I know I am safe, because he would never hurt me.

We are a tangle of moans and groans, grinding against each other, and I am fucking trembling with need for this man to completely ravish me.

Pulling his head back, I find half-lidded eyes locked on mine, a look of utter adoration and lust swimming in his green-flecked hazels. Biting my lip at the intensity of his gaze, I run a hand along his neck, grazing my nails against his skin as I go down his shoulder, then his chest and all the way down to his erection, cupping him through his sweatpants. This earns me a gentle thrust and-

Startled, I look at him, and ask the question that had not once crossed my mind since I met him, maybe because some part of me felt like I already knew the answer.

“What is your name?”, I whisper, grinning sheepishly at the astounded look on his face.

Realization and need grace his features as his eyes flutter and he breathes, “Azriel.”

And the sound of his name is like a key that finally fits in the lock, unleashing my very soul.

His name is the most beautiful thing I’ve ever heard.

Azriel Azriel Azriel, my soul seems to sing.

I smile stupidly at him before taking his face in my hands, “I love you, Azriel.” and it feels like I can finally breathe again. He smiles at me, and I swear I’ve never seen anything so bright, it could light even the darkest corners of my mind. Certainty blossoming in my heart, I’ve no doubt that someday it will.

Mouth parting on a silent moan, “And what is your name?” Azriel purrs against my neck, grinding his hardness into the junction of my thighs. I throw my head back, gasping loudly as the feeling of his cock makes liquid warmth pool from my center.

“Elain, I’m Elain.” I groan as I rub myself against his pulsating arousal, not being able to stop myself from seeking any contact to help ease the need. I’m already on edge, and nothing has even happened yet. The power he has over me drives me insane. Just a look from him and i’m already drenched for him. Just a taste and I want more, so, so much more. And I know I have the same effect on him.

Moaning at my name, Azriel runs his teeth along my jaw and bites on my earlobe before moving on to my neck and breathing me in deeply, like the scent of me is pure ecstasy and he can’t get enough.

I swear I am about to lose it. I am bursting at the seams with want for him. All I can see is him, all I can smell is him. The gloriously arousing essence of him, night-chilled mist and cedar.

Sensing my need, Azriel wraps his arms around me and walks us to his bedroom, running his hands all over my body, like he can’t touch enough of me at once.

“Elain, my Elain.” he mumbles repeatedly to himself, like a prayer to the gods.

The sound of my name from his lips makes me drag my nails down his muscular back and grind harder on his velvet-wrapped steel, eliciting an animalistic growl from him.

Gods, I want him unleashed. I want his cock so deep in my mouth that it brings tears to eyes. I want him to fuck me so thoroughly and passionately that just thinking about it makes me wet.

“I need you so bad, Azriel”, I whimper as he deposits me on the edge of the bed, and kneels on the floor. Something inside me liquefies at the sight of him on his knees for me, making me completely soaked. Reading the need in my eyes, he smirks, trailing his fingers up my calves, to my thighs, gripping them hard.

Never breaking eye contact, he spreads me apart, baring me completely to his ravenous tongue, and moans at the sight of my desire for him.

“I’m going to devour you now.” he growls, before lowering his mouth to my throbbing cunt.

#elriel #elain x azriel #elriel au #elriel smut #elriel ff #elriel fanfiction #acotar fanfiction #overcoming trauma #smut #angst #elriel owns my soul

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hes-writer · 4 years

Text

If I Could Fly

Summary: y/n wants harry to come home

Warnings: angst and a bit of fluff

Word Count: 3522 words

Based on: Harry being really busy all of the time, like hardly coming home or spending time with the reader and one night the reader is at home listening to ‘If I Could Fly’ and she’s just wishing the words he sang in the song were true

____

“I can’t believe you’re leaving before you even get here,” Y/N remarked, a hint of dismay enveloping her voice at Harry’s statement. Her fingers gripped the phone tightly, almost as if the device was the only connection between her and Harry.

He was miles and miles away from her, somewhere where the sun rose while the moon adamantly plastered itself on the night sky where she was. She wished countless times that maybe one day he would surprise her by coming home unexpectedly, his arms in an open gesture, bags laying heavy on his feet beside his worn Vans with the brightest smile on his face. His clothes would reek of the airport and travelling and his tired face drooping where the eyebags lay underneath his lashes. Harry would release a quiet breath of relief when his girlfriend trudged down the stairs with the same loving arms that he comes home to every time he returns, legs peeking out from an oversized hoodie that he left for her and an equally happy yet worn-out face that would glimmer once she saw him.

But that wasn’t going to happen anytime soon, and it hasn’t happened in months.

“I just need some time alone, Y/N,” He replied with a soft tone, fatigue was taking over his every limb and was seeping his throat. The thought of passing out in a dreamless sleep in his plush hotel bed was too tempting. “Please understand,”

“I do understand that you need time alone. But I don’t get how you can go so long without seeing me,” She dug her fingertips into her bare thighs, limbs folded beneath their shared bed. The lamp on her bedside table was switched on to dimly cover the room in an orange-yellow hue. She eyed the shadows on the wall with a sad stare, chest slowly deflating at the thought that maybe he didn’t miss her at all.

Harry sighed through the speakers, his lashes weighing heavy on his lids as another wave of tiredness washed over him. “I do miss you and I do want to see you,”

“Then why don’t you?”

Harry’s first world tour was a global success. Millions of his fans saw him from all around the world and it made Y/N very proud of him. The endless joy and happiness he brought to peoples’ faces made her admire his caring nature more and more each day. Sometimes she felt as though their relationship was in the back burner of his mind, but he proved time and time again that that wasn’t the case. Until now, that is.

His tour had ended in September. Usually, he would be on the first plane back home to celebrate his achievements with Y/N, but work commitments smothered him and he never got the chance to visit her. And she did try her best to take time off work, but her studies didn’t agree with what she wanted. School was becoming increasingly difficult with the upper-division requirements being thrown at her, to be finished in the four-year timeframe it took to finish her degree. Y/N just couldn’t find the time to drop everything and spend a few days in a rented hotel just to see him--no matter how much she wanted to.

Y/N thought to herself that she could handle a few more weeks without Harry, choosing to focus on essays and research papers that needed to be read and written. However, a few weeks turned into months, and soon the holidays passed by without as much as a glimpse of his face showering her. She didn’t want to throw him under the bus, but it was clear that Harry didn’t bear the same weight as she did. His excuses built every time they shared a call, the disconnection between them was obvious in the sense that their calls lasted only a few minutes--nothing like the hours they shared, drunk on wine, talking about anything and everything.

The couple didn’t spend the holidays together as Harry was stuck, unable to find a flight back home and Y/N forgave him because it wasn't like he promised to spend it with her. It was okay until she caught the pictures swirling on social media. A massive grin plastered on his face as he partied on a yacht with Kendall--- a slap to the face, a shot of reality. Whatever it was, it broke Y/N down on Christmas day where she walked down the living room alone. The Christmas decorations mocking her lonely festivity, the tree decored with red and green ornaments and presents stuffed at the base. All invitations to spend the day were rejected in favour of spending it with Harry, hopelessly hoping that he would open the door with an apologetic face and a present in his hand. She was stupid to even let her fantasies take over reality.

“Y/N,” Harry’s gruff remark of her name brought her back to the present. “I’m heading to bed now,”

“O-okay,” She stuttered out a response, not having much in her to argue more about why* they needed to see each other. “I love you,”

“Love ya’too,” The ringer clicked shut, signifying that he had hung up. The receiver emitted a dull tone as Y/N took the time to press the end button on her screen.

______

Maybe it wasn’t the best idea to play a playlist full of sad songs but Y/N was way past questioning her decisions when she was drunk on white wine and sadness. The dejection that floated in her lungs made it difficult to breathe--or maybe it was the heaving sobs she was about to release when the first few piano keys of If I Could Fly reverberated in the cold bedroom. The vinyl player that Y/N bought Harry added a sense of nostalgia to the record spinning continuously. A symbolism that Y/N couldn’t move on from ever-changing times and wavering discomfort that the world threw at her. She wasn’t able to adapt to his needs of having time for himself. At the same time, she wondered if he understood her apprehension--if her sense of abandonment was discernible in the way she practically begged him to come home.

If I could fly, I'd be coming right back home to you I think I might give up everything, just ask me to

It hurt more to recall that Harry had written this song for her as a way to commemorate the same despondency he felt while he was away. The relentless urgency to drop everything and come home to her used to be something that laid all cards on the table and left no questions to be asked. Their actions were enough to show much they truly loved each other.

Pay attention, I hope that you listen 'cause I let my guard down

Right now I'm completely defenceless

And when they were smothered with each other scents, legs tangling underneath the sheets as his strong arms wrapped around her waist like a taut bowtie did they see each other at their most vulnerable. It seemed as though Harry was drained from everything, having given his all to the fans, his everything to the ever-prying lenses of the media. His whole being to be extracted by questions and criticisms yet nothing could refill the void in his chest like Y/N did. Her love was powerful enough to have him addicted to the feeling.

For your eyes only, I'll show you my heart

For when you're lonely and forget who you are

She reminisced their conversation on the blank wall in front of her, the flute of wine held by her unsteady fingers as she gulped another swallow of the burning liquid. The feeling of Harry’s soft palms draped over the expanse of her eyes, covering her sight even more so than her closed lids. His excited giggles tickling her ears as he directed her body in front of his, encouraging her to walk wherever he needed her to be.

I'm missing half of me when we're apart

Now you know me, for your eyes only

Y/N could remember his words clearly; how he confessed his deepest desires for a love that only she could give, how he uttered the three words she longed to hear ever since she watched him flip a pancake on the pan, chin jutting over his shoulder when he heard a soft giggle after seeing the pancake fold on itself in a failed execution. He didn’t know who he was without her by his side, a piece of him seemingly swimming in a sea of the unknown when he failed to hear her voice on the daily.

I've got scars even though they can't always be seen

And pain gets hard, but now you're here and I don't feel a thing

And when he opened up to her for the first time; about his past and the pain, he endured with previous relationships that left him with nothing but a reminder that most people only liked him because he was Harry Styles. Handsome, rich and a branch of connections; a mere business transaction to be stepped on to move up in the industry.

I can feel your heart inside of mine, I feel it

I've been going out of my mind, I feel it

His hand grabbed her dainty wrists, lips puckering to press a gentle kiss at the crown of her head. Their chests faced against each other, his head ducking down to meet her eyes as he continued to place the flat of her hand against where hist heart lay. The hammering of his heart felt as though it would beat right out of his chest and Harry wondered if she could feel it through his thick skin, the layers of vulnerability being peeled back in a moment of openness and complete trust between the two of them. Y/N looked up at him with a confused face, brows quirking in a silent question until she felt it--the dull throb of his heart against her palm.

You’ve got my heart in the palm of your hand, he admitted.

Know that I'm just wasting time

And I hope that you don't run from me

The music drifted to silent background noise, Harry’s voice coming stronger with more emphasis on the words that meant the most to him. Y/N’s heart clenched; how could she run away when all she thought about was him? When all she needed was his figure beside her, warming her up when the morning breeze developed goosebumps on her skin? She thought about the times she relied heavily on him that her happiness didn’t exist without him; what a sad conclusion to her dumpster day. She didn’t want to flounder her brain with doubts, not when she could call Harry and get a direct answer from the source.

Y/N shakily dialled his number, thumb drifting past the screen to see his profile pop up right before the keypad signalled that it was ringing.

And it rang until she got sent to voicemail. She tried again, hoping that he was too far away to hear the ringing of his phone and that he would answer soon before she deteriorated in on herself from overwhelming emotions of missing him and ruminating what this meant for their relationship.

The dial tone screeched her ears, making Y/N want to throw the device across the room in frustration. Beep.

_____

Harry rested in his bed for the next few weeks, dizziness dissolving into thin air once his bum hit the soft mattress, instantly relaxing his tense muscles from the activities of the day. His face mask lay folded on the nightstand, his pink beanie crumpled from being stuffed in his coat pocket. He sighed softly as he was met with silence; the city was sleeping, the roads were empty with an odd couple of cars. The only thing running was his mind taking him to his last conversation with Y/N--the irritation they held for each other coupled with fatigue surely wasn’t the way he preferred to have ended the call before he left for Japan.

He wanted complete isolation from the outside world--as outside as it gets. No phones, no social media, no paparazzi following him to and fro his dinner to a restaurant. Living as a normal person even if it was only temporary.

Still, he couldn’t help but eye his phone planted screen-down on the table. The lifeless device seeming odd when it wasn’t buzzing incessantly.

“Fuck it,” Harry muttered, reaching over to press the power button for a few seconds, watching a bitten apple appear on the dark screen. “Come on,”

His breath got caught in his throat when his lock screen popped up; a picture of Y/N and him in their backyard. His face was scrunched in a smile while her pink lips pressed a chaste kiss on his skin, her hands squishing his cheeks as he jokingly tried to getaway. His arm was outstretched in a selfie pose, ending in teasing jokes about Harry’s inability to take such photos on his own. The phone buzzed in his hand, the tag of missed calls making Harry sit up straighter on the bed, followed by a line of “Voicemail(s)”.

Harry used his fingerprint to unlock the device, clicking on the green phone app to check out his messages. He rolled his eyes slightly at the automated machine instructing him to press whatever buttons until the keypad appeared and a message from Y/N started playing.

“Why won’t you come home?” She wailed through the receiver, stuttered breaths muffling her words but still discernible. “Why won’t you come home to me, Harry?”

He clicked on the volume button, increasing the painful cries that Y/N released. The shakiness of her voice caused a chill to crawl up his spine; he couldn’t believe that she even thought of saying that to him. Of course, he wanted to come to see her.

But not right now.

“Don’t you want to come home anymore?”

She sniffled a bit, ceasing her dry sobs as she tried to control her breaths. In the background, he could hear the piano chords of a special song that made the ache in his chest much more prominent.

“I understand. I get it,” Her quiet confession caused him to strain his ears further, almost too quiet to hear. “But I miss you and it hurts,’

“It hurts too much and I’m not sure if I can take much more,” The pain in her voice was too much to bear for Harry, “I haven’t seen you in so long. It’s all my fault,”

Harry shook his head, curls catching his temples as he desperately tried to deny her words as if it would do anything. “No, no it’s not, Y/N”

“I should’ve flown out to see you. I should’ve tried harder to understand. I should’ve been more prepa--,” Beep.

He hurriedly tapped on the next message, his heart pounding against his ribcage. He had barely unpacked his items, his toiletries scattered in the bathroom but everything else was otherwise intact.

“Remember this song?”

He nodded, hearing the melody in the background.

“Do you s-still feel the same?”

Harry nodded once again, cradling the phone between his neck and shoulder. His large hand shoved his electric toothbrush and toothpaste in his toiletries bag. He sheathed his head in the pink beanie, face mask elastically going around his head. He slipped on some socks and his black Vans. He made a quick conversation with his friend who had generously let him stay in his home, for the time being, informing him that he would be leaving earlier than planned.

The ride from the house to the airport seemed like the slowest time he had ever experienced, his body itching to hold Y/N’s frail and pliant body in his arms. The taxicab made great headway for him to book the next flight home, his small amount of baggage making it easier to go through security and the checkpoint. He felt a couple of stares on him as he sat near the boarding gate, but the people kept a respectful distance from him, giving him shy smiles and timid waves to which he returned despite the turmoil in his heart building with each passing second that he spent away from Y/N,

The next announcement informed him that his flight would be boarding soon, making him stand up and stretch his limbs, passport and boarding pass on hand for a breezy exchange. He walked the tunnel with a heavy heart, his duffel bag feeling denser on his shoulder. Harry greeted the flight attendant with a small smile before plopping on his designated seat. He sighed heavily watching the runway blink with various lights.

His mind was dizzy with words to say to Y/N when he came home but he knew that there was only one thing that Y/N wanted; honesty.

_____

His driver welcomed him with a polite nod and tired smile, the early hours of the morning paired with the unforeseen circumstance causing a pang of slight guilt on Harry’s part but he couldn’t quite focus on that when he was practically the closest he had ever been to Y/N for the first time in months. His jaw twitched as he refrained from clenching it at the thought.

The car slowed down to a stop, his thoughts distracting him from the drive to the airport and to his home. “Thank you, James,”

The man nodded in appreciation, “Welcome home, sir. Been a long time, huh?”

Harry felt his eyes gloss over at the emphasis, “Yeah,”

He exited the vehicle, breathing in deeply as he took in the sight of his home where Y/N would be. His feet couldn’t take him to the door fast enough, tripping over the gravel a few times before eventually reaching the front door.

The house was eerily silent, a blanket of coldness lapping at him when it would usually scorch him with comforting warmth and the scent of vanilla cookies. He toed off his sneakers, curling his toes from being confined for hours. He ascended their staircase where their bedroom was, noting the way the Christmas tree was still up, yet the presents remained unopened.

“Y/N?” He whispered, his timbre hesitant yet excited with building anticipation of seeing his love for the first time in quite some time. He found her curled up in their bed, dressed in his frequently worn ‘donuts’ hoodie, her feet clad in his black Nike socks. Y/N even had one of his basketball shorts draped over her waist, his red patterned bandana clutched between her small hands.

Her cheeks were pink with dry tears staining the skin, lashes curled with exhaustion. Harry mirrored the frown on her lips, the crease between her brows deepening until her mouth choked on a sob. She was crying in her sleep.

He dropped his bag softly on the ground, slippery socks causing him to fall by her side, barely catching his weight before it crushed her and jerked her awake. Tears cascaded from her closed lids, silently muttering his name.

“Shhh, I’m here,” He caressed her hair, pressing kisses on her temple. He laid against the headboard, pulling her pliant body closer until her head met his chest. “Don’t cry. ‘M home,”

Her chest rattled with a breath, lurching her body awake. She awoke with a gasp, frantically looking around to take in her surroundings, realizing that she was still where she drifted off last night.

“Hey,” Harry quipped, watching Y/N with glazed eyes, catching salty liquid on his waterline.

Her head snapped upwards, seeing Harry’s face staring down at her. Y/N opened her mouth to speak but no words escaped. She fought against his grip, almost melting at his arms wrapped around her body. Her knees straddled his waist, burying her face against the junction of his neck and shoulder, smearing the skin with wet tears. Her hands enclosed his thin waist into a compact hug, pulling him as close as he could go to hers. She was afraid that he might disappear if she let go.

“You’re here,” Y/N sobbed, hauling back to press her palms against his wet cheeks, green eyes gazing back at her. “You’re home. With me,”

She leaned in for a heated kiss, whimpering at the touch of his soft lips on hers. Their mouths moulding in a searing act of love that relieved both of their chests in silent agreement that they were okay.

Harry pulled away, knocking his head gently against the towering headboard, his breathing heavily from the passionate kiss, “I’m here. I’m home. With you,”

________

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#harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles one shot #harry styles angst #harry styles imagine

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parkerlyn · 4 years

Note

ROs reactions to the MC going up to them and bowing, hand outstretched, saying "May I have this dance?"

💃🏻🕺🏽🎵🎶 yeeeessss I am soft for dancing!! (sorry this took forEVER it uhhh spiraled into 2k words haha. ROs names are colored for separated drabbles!)

Thank you for the asks! ❤️❤️

*At [insert event here] that involves dancing*

The Healer:

Their face has been lit by the swirling orbits of the dancers in front of the two of you, a slack-jawed awe frozen on their face as they watch the footwork of the closest couple.

Which is why when you turn and ask them to dance, their expression throws you off kilter. Instead of the enthusiasm you were expecting, a chill falls over the air between you as their face morphs into...fear?

"Oh, uh-" The Healer seems to have dropped their confidence on the ground, by the way their eyes search it. "I'm alright really, I'd rather be a bystander."

"Really?” Your incredulous response brings back the light in their face for just a moment. “You?"

"I'm..." They search the ceiling and the draped pillars now before muttering, "Imnotverygoodatdancingyoushouldreallydancewithsomeoneelse."

You blink. "Sorry, want to say that again?"

A sigh passes through their lips while they pull idly at their ear. "I'm...a little clumsy at these sorts of dances. Can never get all the steps in the right order."

Your face breaks into a soft sympathy and they can't help theirs relaxing in response. Still, you hold your hand out with resolution.

"We don't have to do the fancy steps, it's enough just to dance with you."

Reflections of you are clearer in their gold irises as their eyes widen, the smile spreading in turn. Finally, they take your hand.

"You do remember I literally crashed into you the first time we met, right?" At your expectant stare, they laugh. "Alright, but don't say I didn't warn you."

With that settled you lead them forward, feeling just the slightest bit of nervous resistance that melts away when you give a quick squeeze. You guide them to the corner of the dance floor away from focus, before turning and tentatively placing a hand on the luscious sash and decorated fabric draping over their shoulder, the other resting in their elevated hand.

The Healer keeps their gaze locked to yours, uncertain what to do next and finding anchor in your eyes. Deliberately, steadily, you begin to rock to the right, then to the left, swaying your bodies in a gentle rhythm. Their eyes dart once with self-consciousness at the couples around you, before the movement hooks their focus back. Face transitioning into something more at ease, you feel them start to move with you instead of being moved by you.

The smile that illuminates their face practically jumps to yours, and they bring the hand they’re holding to press against their chest. Rumbling bliss echoes against your skin, their heart leaping to meet your palm at each beat.

“See?” you whisper. “You can dance just fine.”

They press their forehead against yours, eyes barely open.

“Only because it’s with you.”

Oisein:

“Well, hello there.”

The sultry voice comes from your left as Oisein slides into your space. Though they’re wearing their mortalis glamour, the amount of embroidery on their clothes and the delicate jewelry adorning their ears, neck, and arms still gives them an ethereal sheevra-likeness that hasn’t gone unnoticed.

“What’s a gorgeous thing like you doing all alone?” Their eyes narrow, lip turning with a clearly mischievous intent. “Bored by all these stuffy mortalis?”

“Oisein!”

Grinning with no remorse, their lavender eyes cast back to the dancing crowd, the glints of light off their accessories casting shifting reflections on the columns around you.

“We do throw better parties though, you have to admit,” they murmur.

“Maybe... Though I’m not sure the last Equinox counts as a party so much as a...rampage? A riot?”

“What’s a party without a little chaos?”

The two of you laugh quietly enough to seem polite to those around you, almost in mockery of the mortalis niceties.

As the laughter ebbs away, you just catch the slight shift of weight from one of their legs to another as Oisein fumbles with bracelets along their wrists. It’s clear what their real reason is for shadowing you recently, and you suppose you’ve played hard-to-get long enough.

With a flourish worthy of Oisein’s dramatics, you give a bow as the instruments and Soundweavers begin the next song.

“May I have this dance?”

You're not sure what happens first, you finishing the question or Oisein grabbing you by both hands and hastily backing up onto the dance floor.

"Finally! I thought you'd never ask!"

"What, you couldn't ask me either?" You tease while they hold one of your hands up and lift your other arm on top of theirs, their palm gently pressing against your back between your shoulders.

"When have I ever made anything easy?"

The smirk is there for an instant before it thaws into something warm and affectionate, and the two of you begin to revolve around each other across the smooth floor.

Colors swirl like a kaleidoscope as you keep your eyes fixed on them. The lavender, the golden blond, the emeralds and sapphires glittering while resting on their tanned and freckled neck. Compared to the pairs around you Oisein flows as naturally a part of the music as the notes themselves, your movements merging into a harmony between your bodies.

Your view changes as Oisein dips you backward, your waist nestled and secured in the crook of their arm before they roll your torso back up against them. A low hum of delighted magic reverberates from their chest through yours when you’re fully upright again, and you can just hear them begin to sing with the melody enveloping you.

Leaning into Oisein as far as you can without disrupting your dance, you catch the small hitch in breath before they reach a warm, steady hand to cradle your neck, saccharine voice continuing a private concert for your ears alone.

The Sage:

Even from a distance, you can see the Sage’s strained smile. To the dignitaries and figureheads around them, it must seem polite, polished, immaculate. But you recognize the tired creases at their eyes and the tightness of their hands, the anxious habit as their fingers brush the braids against their back.

They turn to face someone else, the soft yellow ribbon that usually holds their hair replaced by a brilliant golden clasp that glints against your eyes. It reflects once more as they give a seasoned nod and a bow of acknowledgement, before excusing themselves.

You smile as you watch them search the crowd for respite, tense politeness loosening into adoring relief when their eyes catch yours. The smile tugs further at your mouth and you give a wave.

“I’m so sorry,” they exhale out as they come to your side. “I thought the conversation with the Ambassador would be much shorter, but I really should’ve foreseen the...” They search around you to make sure no one can overhear them. “-bragging and oversharing that he’s wont to do.”

“Were they at least fun stories, though?”

“Depends on your definition,” they whisper back, trying to control the smirk threatening to spread. “But I know for sure the ‘legendary beast’ he described fishing for off the coast of Han is a creature he stole from his daughter’s imagination.”

“Plagiarising children? Can the mortalis sink any lower?”

“You-!” The Sage tries to wave your words away, turning to make sure no one heard you but beaming with a conspiratorial excitement. You laugh at the reaction, and they cover their mouth to stop from releasing a laugh to match.

“Well,” you continue. “Do you think the Gold Sage might have a chance for a break with a commoner like me?”

With your question, they finally let the laugh loose and bring the base of their palm against the bottom of their eyes, the usual golden swoops under them painted further out and twisting into delicate, intricate patterns over their warm skin.

“I’d hardly consider you ‘common’,” they chide, eyes half-lidded. “But what did you have in mind?”

You hear the music crescendo, before putting on your best impression of a stuffy official, with an equally stiff bow and rigid arm outstretched.

“My dear Sage,” you begin with voice pitched in imitation. They snort at the caricature. “Would you give me the honor of a dance?”

“There's nothing else I’d rather do," they say with a more genuine response, reversing your hand to place a kiss on your fingers before they let you lead them to the dance floor.

Their fingers spread against your palm when you come to an open space, and they frame your body with theirs. A lilting waltz begins and their steps start to move like clockwork, precise and smooth, pulling you into the tides of golden fabric rippling at their waist.

Vivid, lively hazel watches your face, searching over your features with admiration while your feet glide beneath you. Any view of the other mortalis or the ballroom or the band blurs into the background, your eyes caught and tangled in the glow of their unbridled joy.

“...Think we could turn this into more than just a break?” they ask gently as you continue to revolve.

“I’d be happy to help you avoid the Ambassador for as long as possible, yes.”

“Perfect.”

The Magesmith:

You're not sure what you were expecting. Maybe not as much bluntness when you asked them to dance? But still, the crossed arms and resounding "No," stings a bit more than anticipated.

They shift awkwardly at your hurt expression as you draw your hand back, distracting themself by pulling at the tight, velvety dressclothes the Sage shoved in their face just hours before.

"It's not you," they continue softly, almost apologetically. "Just not a huge fan of crowds...and dancing."

“Right, of course," you trail off. You understand, really, but the rejection still burns in your core and in your cheeks.

Neither of you are fully sure where the conversation is supposed to go from here, and small talk has never been the Magesmith's strong suit. When you look up again though, you catch them click their tongue while exploring the area with their eyes.

"Come with me for a second." And now it's their hand waiting for yours.

Skeptical, you still take it, and there's a sweet tenderness as they close their heated fingers around yours and weave the two of you through the crowds to the outer rims of the party. Just beyond the last line of revelers, you see a curtain barely separated to show the balcony hiding behind it, hardly visible past the reflection of the gaudy scene you’re currently caught in.

The Magesmith releases your hand and presses their face against the glass with no regard for your surroundings, before nodding and turning to you.

"Here," they state, as if that's all the explanation they need to give. They press through the door anyway, beckoning you to follow.

Slight humidity hangs in the air outside, both warmth and chill prickling over your skin. In some wild turn of luck, the balcony is empty save for the two of you, and the Magesmith holds out their brass arm as the melody from inside trickles outward in muted cadences.

"You don't have to do this if you don't want to," you finally say into the silence.

"No, I-" They clench their fingers before relaxing them again. Brown eyes melt into their gentle admission.

"I want to," they breathe out. "Of course I want to."

They continue to stare into you until all you can do is believe them, and your hand moves without thought. When you do connect, a small noise escapes you at how confidently they pull you forward, and how smoothly their arm flows around you. There's a practiced step to the side as they move you to their hip, before unfurling you out and around, and closing back in so you’re facing them.

They're...good at dancing.

Your feet step in time with theirs as they rock backward, to the side, on the balls of their feet as they rotate you under their arm while keeping your hands connected. In some unfamiliar array of movements, your hand drops from one of theirs, sliding across their collar to the other with another soft spin.

Really good.

"Are you kidding me?" You practically hiss. They just snicker low in response, their lips now close to your ear as they pull you flush against them.

"Please don't tell anyone, it'll ruin my reputation."

The laughter that cascades from your mouth is bright enough to put the stars to shame.

#anon #ro asks #ro ask #the healer #the sage #the magesmith #oisein #dance #dancing #hello u have unlocked secret author backstory of a LOVE for dance and formerly being on a salsa dance team haha #drabble #drabbles #had a leetle break to finish this today

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