The Dos & Don'ts of Fake Dating | E.M. x reader | pt. 14
[chap thirteen] | [all chapters here]
Story Summary: You propose a crazy idea to the resident freak of Hawkins, Eddie Munson. But maybe he was even crazier for agreeing to it…
notes & tropes: fem reader, slooow burn, faking dating, opposites attract, bratty rich bitch reader, super minor revenge plot, dysfunctional family dynamics, idiots-to-lovers, smut & nsfw themes
a/n: Weeell not to give anything away, but I've brought us all a lil treat with this chapter, so eat up my lovelies~~
wc: 6.9k
Chapter Fourteen
“Fu-uck--!” You moaned loudly, head lulled back, mouth hung wide open, eyes rolled into the back of your skull.
A wet-hot mouth ravaged you, tongue swirling your clit as a single finger slowly, tantalizingly worked in and out of you. Your thighs trembled uncontrollably, clenching vice like around the head buried between your legs. Your hands desperately grabbed at the bedsheets, your nails pressing into your palms through the thin fabric.
The mystery man moaned eagerly against your clit, his mouth sucking and nipping in just the right way to drive you absolutely wild. His free hand sent a shiver up your spine as dexterous fingers traced their way up your thigh, your hip, your waist, cupping your breast with a needy squeeze. He teasingly rolled your peaked nipple between his thumb and forefinger, causing your back to arch with a gasp.
In the next breath, his palm pressed firmly between your breasts and forced you to lie back down, his mouth becoming impossibly more insistent and passionate as he lapped at your throbbing wet center. You couldn't help but squirm and writhe, moaning uncontrollably with pleasure; it's as if your body was being both unraveled and wound tight at the same time, sending you into a salacious spiral.
A pathetic, primal sound escaped you as a jolt of pleasure rocked your body hard, forcing you to desperately grab at the man’s mop of curls, tugging as if his mouth was too much for you, as if you were about to spill over. Your eyes were hooded and crossed as you looked down the expanse of your body towards him, gaze focusing on the calloused, flexed hand pressing firmly against your torso; the fingers were adorned with rings, the metal warm against your sweaty, sticky skin.
As the man's rhythm grew frantic, he inserted another finger, a surprised mewl leaping from your throat as you once more threw your head back. Your hips rutted with jerky, raunchy motions against his hot mouth, knees twitching and toes curling as he guided you directly towards your climax. The uncontrollable and desperate sounds leaving your mouth were pornographic, a mess of swears and moans and high-pitched panting. Your thighs were like a bear trap around his skull once you finally reached your peak, hips stuttering against his unrelenting mouth as you threw your head back, vision going black.
He continued to tease at you for a few torturous moments, extracting his fingers only to lap his tongue slowly along your folds. You struggled to catch your breath, weak sighs falling from your lips as his mouth pleasured you.
Finally, he relented, his breath hot between your legs as he slowly pulled back, tracing his lips gently along the inside of your thigh. Your hands fell limply from his mess of hair as you looked down at him, a goofy, satisfied smile spreading across your lips as your chest rose and fell heavily.
When Eddie looked up at you with a devious, lustful grin, your heart dropped as confusion quickly overtook your features. He slowly wrapped his lips around his cum-soaked fingers, sucking them clean as he held your gaze, the dangerous look on his face utterly captivating.
“Fuck, you taste like sin, princess…”
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It was utterly startling to wake up from a wet dream about Eddie, your eyes shooting open as your alarm clock blared loudly from the nightstand. Disoriented and uncomfortably aroused, you lay there staring at the ceiling for a few long moments, ignoring your clock as the lusty image of Eddie seared itself into your memory. This was not what you needed to start your Friday, but evidently your subconscious had other ideas.
Mouth agape and eyes wide with surprise, you blindly slapped at your bedside table until finally you hand haphazardly turned off the alarm; you were nearly too stunned to move, limbs heavy as you throbbed between your legs.
Fuck, that was far too realistic, it had your head in a tizzy. The feel of Eddie’s hands on your body, of his mouth on your clit… You gasped smally while clenching around nothing, the sensations all the more potent thanks to your sleep-heavy brain. With an annoyed sigh, you closed your eyes as your jaw tensed, but that only made it worse, as behind your lids you could perfectly visualize the carnal gleam on Eddie’s features as he licked his own fingers; the profane imagery made you shudder and squeeze again.
How the hell were you supposed to function for a whole day following a wet dream like that? How were you supposed to look Eddie in the eye or simply exist in the same vicinity as him without thinking of how hot it would be to have his head buried snuggly between your legs?
Considering that the two of you had spent the entire week pretending your impromptu kiss on Monday hadn’t happened, this was a cruel trick for your own mind to play on you. Both you and Eddie had been avoiding any and all discussion regarding that kiss, as if eventually the memory of it would fade away into obscurity. And you thought that had been going well, considering that you could finally behave normally around him as the week progressed.
But that pesky subconscious of yours clearly had other plans.
You huffed loudly, as if that exhale of breath would also rid you of your dream, but to no avail. God, you couldn’t believe this - rarely had you ever had a wet dream before, and now you just had to have one about Eddie? That was just fucking cruel.
At odds with yourself, you were very nearly tempted to take an extra couple of minutes and work out the pent up desire stirring between your legs - that wouldn’t be such a bad thing would it? Just let your hand wander south, so long as you don't take too long, you’d still have enough time to get ready for school…
No, you couldn’t do that, not when less than savory images of Eddie plagued your every thought. You could not touch yourself while picturing his handsome face - you were supposed to be getting over this crush, you couldn’t cave thanks to a sex dream. A really, really hot sex dream that felt a little too good and a little too real…
You abruptly sat up, resisting your urges with every fiber of your being. With a determined glare, you kicked away your blankets and stomped from your bed to your bathroom, hellbent on not thinking about Eddie or that dream. All you needed was a shower to freshen up and forget, that would surely get your head back on track.
But apparently you were far more weak willed than you gave yourself credit for. Within a few minutes of stepping into the steamy shower, your hand snaked between your legs before you could stop yourself, your fingers swirling your clit and dipping between your folds. With your opposite hand, you had to muffle the sound of your whimpers, Eddie’s wanton gaze appearing in vivid detail behind your closed eyes as you moaned for him.
It was the fastest you’d ever made yourself cum, and for a minute you were swept up in just how damn good it felt. But all too quickly, frantic regret set it - now there wasn’t a chance in hell that you could look Eddie in the eye today thanks to the fact that you masturbated while thinking of him.
What was it that you’d told yourself earlier this week? That you didn’t like Eddie? That this crush on him would pass?
After this morning, you knew you were royally screwed, and there was no hope that you’d get over it just like that.
Thanks to the dramatic fight you’d had with your family this past weekend, you ended up grounded yet again. This time it was for real, your father hiding your car keys and your mother begrudgingly chauffeuring you to school and the ice rink - Wednesday was the first time you’d been skating in over a week, and although you missed the sport that used to be the center of your world, you were also coming to loathe it very, very quickly.
Your mother was always running late because she had no concept of time - you’d show up at school at different times every single morning, you’d be stuck there waiting for her for about half an hour every day. More than once, Eddie offered to drive you, but you insisted that neither of you tempt fate at the moment - things were bad with your family right now, and given how exhausted you were by everything, you weren’t currently in the mood to push your luck.
And, so, you were late again today, luckily able to run to your English class with only seconds to spare - your teacher glowered as you darted through the door just as the bell rang, collapsing into your seat with a huff, fixing your hair as you caught your breath.
Within the first ten minutes of the lecture, your mind began to wander despite your best efforts - as the class discussed the writings of Hawthorne, the only thing you were able to think about was the way Dream-Eddie’s tongue worked against you, the way his hands so easily and gently controlled your body.
All through class, your thighs were clenched tightly together; at one point in a particularly good part of your daydream, a small, desperate sound escaped you, and you frantically looked around in the hopes that no one else heard it.
Today was going to be a long fucking day.
You were able to calm down for at least a couple hours, able to briefly forget about Dream-Eddie’s sultry eyes and skilled mouth for a few minutes at a time, though the images of it would always inevitably come back to you. And then, of course, your dreaded fourth period class rolled around, and realizing that you’d have to sit next to Eddie for a whole hour was utterly terrifying. Hell, the closer you got to that suddenly ominous classroom, the slower you walked, as if somehow that could spare you the shame and uncomfortable titillation you’d been feeling all morning.
As you walked, you tried your best to hype yourself up - it was stupid to be nervous about seeing Eddie, so very stupid to be made a nervous wreck over a boy. Were you not the ice princess, the girl who was too rigid and bitchy to feel intimidated by boys? You never got nervous like this about Duncan, or the ex-boyfriends before him, or any other boy for that matter, so why Eddie?
With a resolute expression, you straightened your shoulders, raising your chin high in confidence - you weren’t going to get nervous around Eddie and you weren’t going to think about that damn dream. As you repeated this to yourself like a mantra, you began to feel better, began to feel your nerves slowly leaving you.
Until a familiar arm slung across your shoulders, body bumping into yours slightly as Eddie’s earthy scent immediately engulfed you. All that confidence came tumbling down as your heart jumped in your chest, body growing stiff as you tried to will yourself not to feel a wave of arousal merely from his presence.
“Missed you this morning, princess.” Eddie greeted, his voice all too charming, the sound of your nickname on his lips practically sending a shiver up your spine - was he laying it on extra thick, or were you just alert to the point of paranoia? Eyes slightly wide, you looked up, feeling your cheeks growing warm as you met his gaze; he looked back at you with that stupid warm grin of his, not yet catching onto your trepidation.
You’d better keep it that way.
You pressed your lips tightly together as you composed yourself, hoping that your expression was convincingly nonchalant. The corner of your mouth pulled up into a slight smirk, though you were certain the amusement didn’t even remotely reach your eyes.
“Late again.” You answered simply, your gaze lingering on Eddie’s lips for a long moment before you whipped your attention back to the hallway ahead of you. You could feel Eddie’s eyes still watching, as if he were assessing your mood; you could feel your own anxious heartbeat growing faster under his all too watchful stare.
Eddie simply hummed to himself, which made you curious, but you didn’t mention it. After a few tense seconds, he continued, “You still grounded?”
“Yup.” You popped the ‘p,’ chewing at the inside of your lip - god, you were doing a terrible job of acting normal and unaffected. Eddie knew you far too well now, he’d know that your short answers and distant eyes meant something. As if it would make the situation better, you looked back up at him with as casual an expression as you could manage, “Maybe if my dad’s in a good mood I’ll get my keys back.”
Eddie snorted, which made your heart flutter; why that of all things charmed you was utterly ridiculous, “Is your dad ever in a good mood?”
You gave him your first genuine smile of the day - one encounter with your father, and Eddie already had that man figured out. Eddie’s eyes twinkled at the look on your face, causing your nerves to spike again, the back of your neck hot as you looked down at your feet.
Hoping to keep up your charade, you answered, “I don’t think I’ve ever seen that asshole in a good mood my entire life.”
You two entered class and sat in your respective seats, Eddie setting his foot on the basket below your chair - it was a habit of his that you were always amused by, his stretching his long leg across the aisle simply because he could. You fussed with your belongings, digging out your notebook and pencil, absentmindedly flipping the pages of your math textbook. Anything not to look at Eddie, else you may give yourself away, and you’d already given away too much.
But his eyes still burned into you, you just knew it, and after a minute, the weight of his foot on the basket shifted, growing heavier as he leaned across the aisle; you knew he wanted you to look at him, so hesitantly you did. His brows were furrowed as he studied you, his lips pressed together as if he were trying to figure you out. You raised your own eyebrows at him, but the longer you stared, the more you were reminded of that sex dream; before you realized what you were doing, you clenched your thighs together while taking a careful breath.
“Is something wrong?” Eddie finally asked, and damn it, even his concern was making you horny in some annoying, ridiculous way that didn’t make any sense. You rapidly shook your head, to which he immediately narrowed his eyes - you were doing a piss-poor job at acting normal, “Are you getting worse at lying, princess?”
You pulled an affronted face, although the way Eddie was looking at you even now was making your knees weak. His expression relaxed a little, his eyes slowly lowering from your eyes towards your lips, pausing there for a moment before he looked you up and down as if to figure out what was going on in your head. Like some lovestruck fool, you sighed with a shiver thanks to his dark, attentive stare.
How the hell were you going to survive the rest of the afternoon if these past few minutes alone were getting you heated all over again?
“When you wanna talk, just say so.” Eddie met your eyes again, awaiting some show of accord from you; so, you nodded shortly with an agreeable hum, all the while trying to resist that pesky desire to launch yourself across the aisle and into his lap.
You were thankful to hear the bell ring, hoping that the mundanities of math class would keep your mind from wandering or your eyes from lingering.
Within just a few minutes, though, the sound of Eddie’s fingers drumming atop his desk drew your attention over - at this rate, today was starting to feel like a goddamn sitcom. He absentmindedly drummed out an unfamiliar tune, alternating between that and drawing invisible, nonsensical shapes with his fingertips on the old wooden desktop. His fingers moved easily and thoughtlessly, swirling across the surface, dancing nimbly to whatever music may be in his head. Fuck, his hands were so dexterous, his fingers long and calloused…
You realized that your mouth was hanging open as you watched his attractive hands, and abruptly you snapped your jaw shut and shook your head. Were you really that horny that just Eddie’s distracted movements were doing something for you? What the hell was going on with your hormones today?
For the remainder of class you kept your eyes locked on the blackboard, although you most certainly weren’t taking in any of the droll information your teacher was sharing. Nope, you just couldn’t allow your gaze to drift back over to Eddie, you couldn’t let yourself look like a desperate fool all because he had nice hands and knew how to use them.
God, even that thought immediately messed you up. You clenched your jaw even tighter while trying your best not to think about what Eddie’s hands might be capable of doing.
You wished you could just run right out of the classroom once the lunch bell rang, but that would only confirm for Eddie that something was wrong, so you refrained. You tried to keep your shit together as he scooped up your bookbag for you, as he rested his arm comfortably across your shoulder, as he smiled down at you with such ease. Why was he so damn good at this fake boyfriend thing? It was irritating how charming you found it, how hot you found it.
Once the two of you had collected your lunches and joined your group at the table, Eddie surprised you by tugging your chair closer to his, a startled sound escaping you as you were suddenly pulled along against your will. The table snickered at the noise you made, and you shot Eddie a confused, if not mildly irritated, look. He simply shrugged with a mischievous smirk - as you narrowed your eyes, you realized he was probably taunting you so that your mood might improve. Seemed silly, but it was also a very Eddie thing to do, a habit he’d picked up somewhere along the way.
He rested his arm along the back of your chair, his fingertips occasionally brushing lightly along your shoulder; the first time it happened, you jolted a little at the touch, drawing his attention briefly. You simply bit your lip and hoped you didn’t look too nervous. You were starting to get the crazy impression that somehow Eddie could read your thoughts and that he was doing this on purpose.
“You guys see that Silver Bullet movie yet?” Jeff eventually asked the table about halfway through lunch, focusing his attention mostly on you. It felt as if everyone was anticipating your response, considering that you were now the resident horror fan of the group; you hadn’t asked for that title, but it had clearly been bestowed upon you. With a glance around, you sighed and took the lead, knowing they were hesitant to say anything on the subject before you did. You still had to work on getting these guys comfortable around you.
“We missed it for the party, remember?” You began, “And now I’m grounded, so who knows when the hell I’ll get to see it. If I get to see it.”
“Which one is that again?” Grant also looked at you, certain that you’d have the answer.
“Stephen King werewolf movie.” You explained simply, thankful for the distraction that the rest of the group was offering; horror was probably the only subject that could take your mind off anything else, “Based on one of his books, you guys should check it out.”
“When did he write a werewolf book?” Dustin chimed in, ever eager to make some kind of connection with you. Although you had no interest in becoming friends with the freshmen, you couldn’t help but feel them growing on you, much to your chagrin.
“I thought he wrote a vampire one.” Mike added, and you rolled your eyes in anticipation of yet another match of bickering between the three stooges.
“He’s a horror writer, he’s practically written everything already.” You interjected, having the answers that everyone else clearly lacked.
So, you went into a tangent about Cycle of the Werewolf, Salem’s Lot, and the respective film adaptations. Once horror was brought up, the entire group would eventually shut up just to listen to you go on and on about the subject.
It was as you were rambling about werewolf lore - a particular horror subject you were fond of - that you had enough courage to finally glance over at Eddie again. You’d been avoiding his dangerous gaze through all of lunch, growing nervous each time you caught him staring from the corner of your eye. But you’d gotten into a groove with your impromptu horror lecture, allowing yourself to finally look at him again with renewed confidence.
But, damn, did you choose the wrong moment to do so.
Eddie was always so attentive when you went into these little tangents of yours - his gaze was almost unblinking as he took in each and every word you said as if they were of the utmost importance. And this time was no different, his expression relaxed and easy as his eyes watched you closely.
But Eddie’s unwavering focus meant he wasn’t paying attention to the shitty cafeteria cheeseburger in his hand; ketchup oozed onto his fingers just as you happened to glance in his direction. He looked down at his hand for only a moment to acknowledge the mess before promptly returning his eyes to you, way, way too invested in what you had to say about werewolf lore.
You were almost in a trance as you held one another’s gaze, Eddie slowly bringing his hand to his mouth, the action immediately causing your heart rate to increase in both fear and desire. It felt like the moment was in slow motion as he first swiped his tongue along his forefinger, then sucked ketchup off the tip of his thumb. Everything about the action was fucking tantalizing and nearly excruciating, his thumb resting against his lips, his tongue poking out from between his teeth as his eyes practically burned into yours.
Fuck, you taste like sin, princess…
You hadn’t realized that your words had trailed off, that your mouth hung open dumbly as you and Eddie stared at one another. It almost seemed as if he were trapped in the moment as well, lost in your hooded, lecherous stare. Your gaze went back and forth between his lips and his eyes, far too turned on by the way he licked his fingers clean.
“Hey, lovebirds, stop being freaking weird!” Dustin’s insistent shout drew both you and Eddie out of your trance, your eyes widening as you whipped your attention to the boy. The whole table seemed to be watching you two, and as your cheeks grew boiling hot, you wondered just how long you were staring, just how long you two were dumbly lost in your own world, just how long everyone had been watching you two make eyes at each other.
Clearly unphased by the awkwardness that had just transpired, Dustin continued, “What the hell were you saying about silver? You left us hanging because you were fucking ogling him.”
Your face grew even warmer, your entire body flush with shame - shit it was so fucking obvious that even a dumb freshman could see it. You blinked while trying to regain your composure, giving Dustin a provoked look, hoping that if you just acted bitchy enough it would distract everyone from the weird moment that had passed between you and Eddie.
You glared coldly at Dustin, leaning forward a little with a taunting tone, “Wouldn’t you like to know.”
“Yeah, I would, that’s why I asked.” He countered, which would have made you laugh were you not trying to mask your embarrassment. You clenched your jaw, eyes narrowing as you tried to think of a smart comeback.
“Too busy ogling my boyfriend to remember, I guess.” You nearly panicked even as you said it, but you thought it sounded convincingly bratty and unaffected.
You dared not look at Eddie as you rested back in your seat with crossed arms, hoping everyone would just move on and forget the whole thing. But you also suspected that they could all tell that you were mortified, that they’d all whisper later about the way you stared wickedly at Eddie with his fingers in his mouth. The mental image of it practically made you shudder all over again.
You were half tempted to jump from your seat and disappear from the cafeteria, desperate for some space from Eddie and an escape from your self-consciousness. But that would surely draw even more attention to the whole situation, and you really didn’t need that right now. So, you stubbornly slumped in your seat and looked around the table, your gaze menacing enough that Gareth took your cue and jumped into a new subject.
From the corner of your eye, you were certain Eddie was still watching you, but you weren’t feeling quite brave enough to look at him just yet.
As lunch carried on and the group jumped from subject to subject, you eventually felt Eddie’s hand ever-so-gently at your shoulder, his arm having been on the back of your chair the entire time; you couldn’t tell if he was doing it on purpose or not, but he seemed to be drawing shapes against the fabric of your shirt. You turned your head just enough to glance at his hand, but not enough to draw attention to what you were doing; for a brief moment, you watched his fingers in your periphery, feeling heat pool in your abdomen at the relaxed way his hand moved.
You allowed yourself to finally look towards Eddie’s face again, gazing up through your lashes carefully. He was watching his friends, but the minute your eyes were on him, he seemed to feel it; his eyes flicked to meet yours, the corner of his mouth pulling back when he realized he was being watched. Your heart skipped as you tried to smirk back, feeling stupid at how giddy you were because of a simple fucking glance.
Eddie shot you a quick wink before returning his attention to the conversation, which made you feel warm from head to toe, nervously casting your eyes down as your heart drummed in your ears.
God, was he doing it on purpose? Eddie had never been this flirty and teasing before, right? Or had you never noticed it? He couldn’t have known what was going through your head, so why did it seem as if he’d turned the charm dial all the way up to eleven?This was pure torture right now, but all you could do was smile and bear it, hoping that no one could tell how you were practically melting all thanks to Eddie. You couldn't wait for lunch hour to be over, for the whole day to be over - then you could bury your head in your pillows and hope for your embarrassment to go away… Or maybe you’d be plagued by more wet dreams. Both options sounded as if they’d only add to your torment, and you very nearly groaned dismally in anticipation.
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Once school wrapped up for the day and your mother eventually arrived to get you, you were brought back to the ice rink; thanks to your annoyingly tantalizing day, you’d all but forgotten that you’d be dragged back to the rink, groaning about it once you realized which direction your mother was heading in. You’d been chewed out by your coach on Wednesday, who reprimanded you for skipping your last Friday class without a word spoken to her. You had a feeling she’d be there waiting for you again, keeping an eye and ensuring that you were taking this responsibility seriously. Maybe if you just acted like enough of a bitch, she’d take the Friday classes from you - or maybe that was just wishful thinking.
So, you were once more skating laps around the rink, twirling amongst the kids who were struggling to keep up with you. You harshly barked directions, correcting postures and angles without a concern for how mean you may have sounded. You couldn’t tell if you were just in a foul mood, or if the kids were being extra annoying tonight. Either way, it was at least a temporary distraction from thinking about Eddie.
But life certainly had a twisted sense of humor - once you’d wrapped up your class and stepped outside, an all too familiar van was parked near the front of the lot, causing your brow to furrow as you quickly looked around you. Eddie was sitting on a bench with a cigarette between his lips, far enough away from the door that he wouldn’t draw any harsh glances from parents picking up their kids. Pulled between two reactions, you were both excited to see him and nervous as all hell to be near him.
He acknowledged you with an easy grin once you approached, scooching over on the bench to make room for you. When you didn’t immediately sit down, he insistently patted the seat with a tenacious look. You couldn’t help the little smile that graced your lips, and so you sat beside him, keeping a safe distance between you two. Eddie offered you the cigarette, which you happily took from his hand.
“What’re you doing here?” You asked him, crossing your legs on the bench and watching as cars entered and exited the parking lot.
“Checking on you.” Eddie answered simply; you held the cigarette back towards him once you took a hit, “You were weird today.”
A surprised, nervous laugh escaped your mouth, smoke floating out with it as you felt a shiver of anxiety roll through you, “Strange way to compliment a girl.”
Although you weren’t looking at him, you could imagine the face that Eddie made; you could almost hear the beguiled eyeroll in his voice, “Just wanna make sure you’re okay.”
Now, you glanced over at him, enjoying the look of his profile before he also turned to face you. You nervously dropped your gaze, staring at the cigarette between his fingers.
“See, like that.” He took a drag and leaned towards you just a little, dipping his head in an attempt to catch your eyes. Smoke slowly trailed out of his nose, and you watched its tendrils spiral out into the air before you let yourself look Eddie in the eye. His stare nearly made you shiver, reminded of your dream all over again.
In his usual way, Eddie grinned easily; he was clearly assessing your mood, and decided humor was the best tactic, if that mischievous glint in his eyes said anything. He dipped his head towards your conspiratorially, smile growing wider as if amused by whatever thought just crossed his mind, “Are you breaking up with me?”
The joke took you aback, and another laugh slipped out of you, your eyes finally relaxing as you shook your head and smiled wide. For that moment, your dream was forgotten, the two of you grinning at each other like little kids far too pleased with themselves.
You rolled your eyes with amusement, “Me? Never.”
“Good.” Eddie bumped your shoulder, relaxing back against the bench as he watched cars come and go, “So, then tell me what’s wrong.”
You eyed him again, lips pressed tightly together at his persistence. You had to come up with something if you wanted him to drop the subject, even if that something was a shitty little lie. Anything but admitting “I had a sex dream about you, Eddie!”
The answer was right in front of you, though it made you nonetheless nervous to discuss it - you had to talk about Monday. You two should have already talked about it regardless, but it would be a much easier subject to breach than the raunchy truth behind why you were being distant today. So, taking a deep breath, you caved.
“Monday.” You chewed the inside of your cheek, hoping you didn’t come across too nervous. Eddie’s eyes widened in surprise, taken aback by the response, although in the next instance there was acceptance in his face - it made you think that he’d been thinking about Monday, too, especially once he scratched the back of his neck in that nervous way of his, “I shouldn’t have done that; put you in an odd spot.”
He shook his head reassuringly, giving you a lopsided grin, hiding any nerves he may have had about the subject, “I mean, it surprised the hell outta me… but if I were you, I probably would’ve done the same thing. Stick it to the assholes, right?”
You smile back faintly, thankful that he wasn’t making a big deal of it, “Well, next time I want to stick it to the assholes, I’ll at least give you a warning first.”
Eddie made a look of agreement while dropping his cigarette to the ground, snuffing it out with the heel of his shoe.
You studied him closely for a few moments, thinking about not only the kiss on Monday, but the kiss that almost certainly happened at the party. You still couldn’t remember most of it, but maybe that was because you didn’t want to remember it either. Moments of it had come back to you throughout the week - little glimpses at memories that you think happened. You playing with Eddie’s hair; Eddie running his fingers along your arm; you kissing Eddie’s neck.
At some point during the week, maybe it was Wednesday or Thursday, Eddie caught you humming a tune and did a double take, asking with dread where you’d heard the song before - up till that moment, you weren’t sure if it was a real song or something made up in your head. But the question reminded you that at some point you had crawled into the front of the van for a cassette player, although you couldn’t recall what artist had played - something told you that’s where the song came from, considering it’d been in your head for days.
This week really had been a strange kind of torture for you.
“I wasn’t your first kiss, right?” You questioned, suddenly worried that that was the case. He laughed smally at the question, shaking his head with a smirk.
“No, that wasn’t my first kiss.”
You sighed with relief, “Good, I would’ve felt awful if it was.”
“Why?” His brow furrowed, attentively watching for your response. You gaped for just a moment, fearful of saying something stupid.
“Because I would hate to steal your first kiss, that’s all.” Eddie smiled, which should have put you at ease, and yet it didn’t.
“It wouldn’t have been so bad if you had - there are worse things.” Your heart skipped - why did Eddie keep doing this to you? Keep charming you and flirting with you, whether intentional or not.
Your cheeks grew warm, so you looked away from him, staring down at the ground. As you relaxed, your curiosity suddenly got the better of you; you debated for a moment whether or not to ask the question that crossed your mind.
“So, who was your first kiss?” You grinned to yourself, trying to spy Eddie’s reaction in your periphery; it looked as if he shook his head, maybe debating how to respond. You shuffled your body so that you were facing him, knees pressed lightly against his thigh as you gave him an eager look. It made Eddie smile, happy to appease you as he sighed in agreement.
“Mark Warner’s older sister.”
Your jaw dropped a little in disbelief, to which Eddie gave you a trepidatious look, as if fearing your reaction. You furrowed your brow, searching his face for a lie or joke, but there was none to be found. So, all you could do was laugh, leaning towards Eddie as you struggled to picture the girl he was talking about.
“Pru, right? No wait, it was Paige? Damn.” You tried to recall the girl’s face, but you came up blank - you’d only met her once before at one of Mark’s parties, but that was so damn long ago that you weren’t entirely sure what she looked like. No, the most you knew about Paige came straight from her brother’s mouth, and you hadn’t seen that kid in a couple years.
“Yeah, yeah, no one believes me.” Eddie grinned with a shake of his head. You were far too curious now, giving Eddie an eager nudge.
“Well, how the hell did that happen? You two meet at school? Wait, how old is she?”
“One thing at a time, princess.” He teased, taking in your excited expression with surprise, “We met at the Hideout a couple years ago, bonded over music, dated for a little bit.”
“You dated?” Despite your curiosity, you couldn’t help the pang of jealousy that hit you - they met at the Hideout? And they dated? Had he met other girls there, too? Did he ever take other girls to his gigs? This was something you should not have felt territorial about, and yet you couldn't help yourself. You hoped your face hadn’t given you away, because Eddie did not need to know you were jealous of his ex.
Eddie gave a simple nod before his expression grew conspiratory, “What about you? Who was your first kiss?”
You rolled your eyes at the memory that came to you, always finding the story amusing, “Oh, it’s stupid.”
“That makes it even better.” Eddie teased, now grinning wickedly in anticipation, which made you excited to share.
“I was in sixth grade - it was my first real party, there were older kids there, and everyone wanted to play spin the bottle. I ended up kissing Steve Harrington.” You blushed a little at the memory, looking away from Eddie as if embarrassed by it; he laughed with gleeful delight, “God, it was so dumb, I didn’t know what I was doing.”
“Harrington, huh…” Eddie mulled it over before laughing again, “I guess that makes mine better than yours; I didn’t have to kiss someone in front of a bunch of hormonal preteens.”
“Yeah, some of the other girls weren’t happy about it… So, I kissed him again later that night.” You shrugged as if you were innocent, causing Eddie to chuckle once more.
“Were you always a little asshole?” Eddie smiled from ear-to-ear, his eyes alight with utter amusement. You shoved him with a laugh, rolling your eyes.
“Why do you find it so funny?” He gave a noncommittal look in response, and you shook your head at the lack of explanation.
“You weren’t into Harrington, were you?”
“Hell no, he was so damn clean cut, it’s boring; so not my type.” Eddie fished out another cigarette, and briefly you wondered how long you two had been sitting here already. After he lit it, Eddie took a hit and handed it to you.
“Then what is your type?” He asked as smoke fell from his lips, “Duncan seems pretty clean cut to me.”
You gave him a snide look, “Okay, so my track record doesn’t add up.”
Eddie continued grinning as he watched you breath in smoke before slowly blowing it into the space between you two, “Yeah, you’ve always gone for pretty boys, haven’t you?”
Did he sound… defeated - jealous, even - or were you just imagining that?
“Well, most guys were too afraid to flirt with me, so I had limited options.” You stared at one another as if conveying something unsaid, nervously swallowing a lump in your throat. Putting on your best comedic smile, you added, “So, thanks for flirting with me, Munson, even if I had to bribe you to do it.”
Eddie grinned in good humor, leaning in as if he had a secret, “Is ‘the Freak’ more your type, princess?”
You inhaled nervously, anxiety suddenly weighing on your chest - fuck, he was asking that as a joke, right? This wasn’t real flirting, was it? You tried in vain to keep your expression calm, but you were certain Eddie had seen your falter, even if it was only for a moment.
But by some stroke of luck, you were saved by a pair of headlights illuminating the two of you, followed by the honking of a horn. Your mother’s voice impatiently called your name, to which you rolled your eyes in frustration, scooping up your gym bag with a heavy sigh. Eddie stood, tugging you to your feet and pulling you into an unexpected hug that was a little too tight - it took you a moment, but you realized it was a show for your mother, a little way to annoy her. He took a deep inhale as if smelling your shampoo, his lips grazing your temple as he pulled back.
“Catch you next week.” Eddie smiled at you softly before waving tauntingly in your mother’s direction. You tried to refrain from laughing while jogging to the car, taking a moment to shoot Eddie one last smile over your shoulder.
.
.
addt. a/n: Is it cruel to cold open with a hot little wet dream, or is it exactly the thing we all needed? Also, if you're missing from the taglist, lemme know, I was cleaning it up earlier, and now I'm nervous names are missing lol
Hi I sent in a request for prompts 43 and 25 for angst but forgot to and that I wanted it to be Eddie Munson x reader and I’m so sorry
"I’m not coming home, don’t look for me.”
“don’t make me choose” “why? Because you’d pick her?”
I hope this is what you wanted and you enjoy it. Thank you for requesting 🫶🏻
⚠️angst ( since I've been told my angst needs warnings ;)
Pick me, choose me, love me
Eddie and Y/N had been best friends since first grade. They grew up together and did everything together. Everyone in their life thought by the time they graduated they would have figured out they were in love with each other.
But that didn't happen. They were still best friends, oblivious to how they felt for one another. They lived in a small apartment, both needing a life outside the trailer park.
Y/N went to school, and worked at a bar for extra cash. Eddie worked with Wayne and spent his extra cash at said bar. He always kept her company while she worked, and kept an eye on how men were around her. He wouldn't dare let anyone touch her.
She was a little more aware than he was. She couldn't deny that Eddie grew into a very handsome man, with a sexy charm. His smile and sly winks could win over any girl, including her. She never believed Eddie saw her as anything more than a friend, so she kept her feelings to herself. No way was she going to lose Eddie.
But that meant she had to suffer when he flirted with girls during her shift. Ignore the pain in her heart when they snuck off to the bathrooms. Or the night he brought a girl home, as she turned up the living room TV when his door slammed.
He seemed to be good in bed, from the countless girls she was forced to listen to. She tried to ignore how jealous she was, hating the way girls left in the morning satisfied and bruised.
She thought the random hookups were bad, but it was so much worse when he got a girlfriend. Her name was Kathy, and she was a bitch. Not that Eddie noticed, he worshipped the ground she walked on. Kathy and Y/N never got along, but girls knowing they both wanted the same thing from Eddie. Kathy was smug since she was the winner.
Tensions got high when Y/N told Eddie she saw Kathy going into the bathroom with a guy during her shift. A huge fight broke out and Eddie left for a few days. Kathy said Y/N made it all up and Eddie fell for it. Even though Y/N wanted to kick him out, she called a truce. Both agree to leave it in the past.
Trouble didn't stop there, it seemed Kathy brought in new drama weekly. But Y/N tried her best to keep her friendship with Eddie alive. Even when he made it so damn hard.
~~~
"Alright, everything is set up. Don't you forget to show up!" Steve said, pointing a stern finger at Eddie.
Eddie rolled his eyes, "you think I'm going to skip out on my best friend's birthday?"
"I'm just saying." Steve said as he held his arms up.
Y/N was turning twenty two and Steve planned a huge surprise party for her. All their friends would be there, her family, and most importantly Eddie.
Steve was a good friend of Y/N's. And he could easily tell she was in love with the metal head. He knew Kathy was bad news but Eddie was never one to listen.
~
Y/N jumped as she opened the door, Steve sent her an address to meet him at for a birthday dinner. She wore her best dress, a little short and a perfect amount of tightness. Her hair was styled and she wore her best make-up. She was in awe as she took in the huge crowd of people.
"HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!" Steve screamed, along with everyone. But he was front and center, arms open as she raced into them. She crushed him in a bear hug and he spun her around.
He had to stop himself from sticking his nose in her neck. While Y/N pinned after Eddie, Steve pinned after her. But he knew her heart was with Eddie and he respected that. Still, his heart raced in the dress she wore.
"You look gorgeous," he whispered in her ear. She tried to push back tears, feeling so loved.
"Thank you for this!" She squealed. She took her time walking around the party, hugging everyone. She made sure to talk to every person for a good amount of time before moving on.
But as more time passed, she couldn't ignore that Eddie was nowhere to be found.
She hadn't seen him all day, and it broke her heart. She spent every birthday with him since she met him, and he was nowhere to be seen the whole day. But she tried to focus on the people who did show up.
After a few drinks, she let Eddie go, fully enjoying her party.
~
It was 11pm and Eddie still wasn't home. Her party ended about two hours ago, she played with her empty beer bottle at the counter as she waited for Eddie to walk in.
She perked up when she heard the door unlock and Eddie walked in.
"Hey," he said
"Hi," she said, her sadness was clear in her voice. Eddie sighed as he heard it.
"Look, sweetheart, I'm sorry." He whispered as he walked towards the table. His puppy eyes looked at her nervously.
"Just answer one question," she sighed. Eddie gulped when she looked up at him, her tear-stained face and red eyes told him she had been crying for a while. "Were you with Kathy?"
"Yes," Eddie said honestly
Y/N scoffed and stood up. She shook her head as she pushed in her stool.
"Y/N-"
"Eddie, don't," she snapped, Eddie stepped back. He never heard her sound so angry towards him. "Just stop"
Eddie watched as more tears fell down her face.
"Don't shut me out. Talk to me." Eddie pleaded. She sniffled as she looked up at his sorry face. His puppy eyes and the pout on his lips. But she couldn't push aside how she felt just because he looked like he got kicked.
"I don't want to talk to you," she said. She glared at him as she went to walk past him. But his arm shot out and stopped her.
"Well too bad because I want to talk to you," Eddie snapped. His temper was always short. "Look, I know I fucked up but let me apologize so we can move on."
Y/N yanked her arm away from him. Angirly standing face to face with him. Her fired eyes burned into his, challenging him.
"My best friend ditched me on my fucking birthday for some girl, and you think a shitty apology is going to fix that?"
"Girlfriend" Eddie corrected
Y/N let out a laugh, with no humor behind it. "I don't care what she is. You ditched me, you ignored me, and my heart shattered when I realized you weren't there and you wouldn't show up."
"I planned to be there, and I wanted to be. But Kathy needed-"
"I NEEDED YOU!" Y/N screamed. Eddie backed up as he clenched his jaw. "I bet she made up some fake lie to keep you occupied. She plays a game and you keep allowing yourself to be the pawn."
Eddie growled as she spoke. "I'm not a pawn and It's not a game. You don't know what she is going through."
"NOTHING!" she screamed again. "NOTHING IS WRONG WITH HER. SHE JUST WANTED TO KEEP YOU AWAY FROM ME"
This time Eddie laughed, scoffing as he angrily rubbed his chin.
"Get over yourself," he muttered
"Excuse me?" Y/N replied
"I said get over yourself. You're not a threat to her. She already told me about this little more than friend love you have for me. For your sake, I'll continue to act like I don't know. But you need to start respecting my fucking relationship." He demanded, his voice low and deep. He was pissed.
Y/N felt the color drain from her face. She gulped as she stared at him. He knew?
"How long?" Y/N whispered, her head down as she clenched her eyes in embarrassment. He knew and he never said a thing. He didn't like her back.
"What?" Eddie asked
"How long did you know?" she said through clenched teeth, looking up at him in the eye.
"Three months" Eddie whispered, feeling a twig of guilt as Y/N looked betrayed. He wasn't sure what heartbreak looked like but he swore he saw it on her face.
"What if I don't?" Y/N challenged, and she crossed her arms. Her eyes back to being heated as she stiffened out her jaw. "What if I don't want to respect your fucking relationship?"
This caused Eddie to back down
"You have to," He pleaded, "I want both of you in my life."
She ignored how the hurt puppy look came back. She was done allowing him to hurt her. He knew how she felt and never said a thing. He betrayed her and threw it at her in her weakest moment.
"I don't think that's possible" Y/N admitted
"No no," Eddie panicked, "It is. You've always been here, you have to be here." His voice cracked as he started drowning in his fear.
"You're right, I've always been here. But have you?" Her eyes watered as she felt more tears building. Eddie tried to close his eyes to avoid those eyes but it was all he could see. "I'm sorry, Eddie but I can't put myself through that. The decision is yours."
"Please don't make me have to choose." Eddie cried, his bottom lip trembling. He reached forward, desperately holding her face as he cried. "Please"
"Why? Because you'll pick her?" Y/N whimpered, she could see the answer in his eyes. He picked her a thousand times before, of course, he'd pick her now.
"I-I---I" Eddie stuttered. Almost like he didn't want to say it out loud. He didn't want to admit it.
Y/N bit her lip to try to hold back another sob. She grabbed his hands, pulled them off of her face, and dropped them at his sides. Eddie began to mumble no over and over, knowing what it meant. But she ignored his pleas and cries, just like he did hers.
She quietly moved passed him and walked out.
~
She made it to Steve's doorstep in seconds. Crashing into his arms as she sobbed. As Steve always did, he picked up her broken pieces.
After she calmed down, Steve moved her to his bedroom. He was downstairs, lying on the couch. The room was dark and silent, leaving Y/N stuck in her head.
"Darling?"
She jumped as Steve's voice came from behind her. She turned around and silently asked what he needed.
He didn't say anything as he passed the phone over.
Y/N sighed and took the phone. She already knew who it was. Without waiting for him to speak, she said "I’m not coming home, don’t wait for me.” And ended the call.
Steve reached forward and softly rubbed her shoulder for comfort. He pressed a small kiss to her forehead and pulled away. He started to walk out of the room, but right before he was gone she called out to him.
"Can I ask for a favor?" she asked, her voice dry and cracked from all the crying she did.
"Anything for you," Steve said, his voice so soft and silky. She could see so much emotion in his eyes. And she knew he meant his words.
"Can you hold me?"
Steve didn't waste a single breath as he walked over to the bed. He got in bed without another word, and Y/N turned around. Her back to his chest as he scooped her in his arms. He was cautious at first, not wanting to make her uncomfortable.
But she backed further into him, no space left as their skin touched. He tightened his arms and she sighed in pleasure.
"Thank you" she whispered, feeling the need to sleep taking over her body. The touch of Steve instantly calmed her.
He smiled and placed his chin on her head. He closed his eyes and prayed he'd remember this feeling for the rest of his life.
Y/N silently cried as she stared ahead.
Where was she supposed to go when Eddie was the only home she ever had?
The Dos & Don'ts of Fake Dating | E.M. x reader | pt. 13
[chap twelve] | [all chapters here]
Story Summary: You propose a crazy idea to the resident freak of Hawkins, Eddie Munson. But maybe he was even crazier for agreeing to it…
notes & tropes: fem reader, slooow burn, faking dating, opposites attract, bratty rich bitch reader, super minor revenge plot, dysfunctional family dynamics, idiots-to-lovers
a/n: We've got another chapter here that I absolutely love! Now that ice princess realizes what she's feeling, the shenanigans are that much more amusing~
wc: 7.2k
Chapter Thirteen
Come Monday morning, you were still struggling to grasp all the shit that had transpired over the weekend, the short two days of it feeling more like a lifetime. What should have just been a fun party led to a chaotic fight with your family, and that chaotic fight led you to realize that you had a god damn crush on Eddie that you had been trying to ignore for the past twelve fucking hours. And to top it all off, you still couldn’t remember most of Saturday night, leaving you with the sensation of lost time, with the vague feeling that you were forgetting something vital but not knowing what that could possibly be.
When you finally recognized what exactly you were feeling for Eddie - what you probably had been feeling the past week or so, despite your own obliviousness - you didn’t know what the hell to do with those feelings. You tried your best to play it cool as you and Eddie ate food and watched movies and shared his bed Sunday night, but you were certain he could see your hesitation, could feel your trepidation. It felt like a damn sitcom once you started thinking about it - you had to pretend you didn’t have a crush on the boy you were pretending to date. How much more ridiculous could it get?
You’d already decided there wasn’t a chance in hell you would tell Eddie about this. For starters, you weren’t sure if this was a real crush or if all the fake dating was getting to your head; you would be the person to start confusing fake feelings with real ones amidst all the shit you and Eddie had been through thus far.
And if that weren’t the case, you could simply be feeling this was because Eddie was nice to you - you’d never really felt this attracted to someone before, simply dating because it’s what was expected of you, so it could very well be due to Eddie’s kind nature. Niceties didn’t exactly come easy to you, your old friends, or any of your exes, so you couldn’t let yourself go and develop feelings for the first boy that was simply kind to you. You figured that’s just how he was, how he treated all his friends.
On top of that, you didn’t want to deal with the embarrassment of telling Eddie about this only for him to reject you. The two of you were such opposites, so very different, that it seemed unfathomable for Eddie to reciprocate your feelings - what interest would he have in you, a girl who was rude and impatient and bossy as all hell?
Sure, you’d caught him looking at your legs or your chest a couple of times, but considering that that’s how all boys have looked at you since puberty, you couldn’t take those moments into account - physical attractiveness was surely something Eddie wasn’t too concerned about, if his character was anything to go on.
And, shit, Eddie was so unlike anyone you’d previously been into, it almost felt crazy to even entertain the idea of liking him. This was nerdy, goofy, metalhead Eddie, the kid who was a terrible student, who dealt drugs, who spent hours playing silly board games that you couldn’t even begin to understand - how did all of that possibly come together to create a package that caught your attention? You hated to be shallow about it, but on paper this maybe-crush on Eddie shouldn’t have happened and couldn’t ever work.
So, no, you wouldn’t let him know about this ridiculous little crush of yours, because it would simply pass in time. You’d move on from it sooner or later, meaning there was no need to draw attention to it now. Give it a couple of weeks, and this whole silly thing would be forgotten - that was your mantra when you woke up far, far too early on Monday morning.
Why you were up before the fucking sun was beyond you - one minute, you were asleep like the dead, and then the next you were wide awake. You figured it must’ve been because you and Eddie spent the majority of Sunday sleeping, and now your body clock was completely out of whack. You begrudgingly sat up in bed - realizing with a blush that you and Eddie were practically on top of each other once again - and glanced over at the alarm clock. You groaned when you saw that it was just after five o’clock.
You rose to your feet and shuffled around the bed, remembering that you saw a pack of cigarettes somewhere on the nightstand. You felt around blindly until you had the box and a lighter in hand, tiptoeing to the door with a silent prayer that it wouldn’t creak and wake Eddie. As you closed it gently behind you, a deep exhale escaped you before you opened the door that led to the rickety little balcony attached to the house.
Of course, you weren’t expecting to see Wayne there with a cigarette of his own, his presence causing you to gasp and nearly jump. You seemed to have startled him a little as well, but he was much more calm in showing his surprise. For a couple awkward moments, you lingered in the open door, unsure of whether or not to give Eddie’s uncle space; but he nonchalantly waved his hand, a simple indicator to join him.
“He’s not up, is he?” Wayne asked, his voice gruff but kind. You shook your head, leaning on the arm of the worn-out couch while popping a cigarette between your lips, flicking the lighter until you could feel the nicotine in your mouth, “Nasty habit.”
Wayne’s eyes twinkled at his joke, the humor only emphasized by the deep drag he took from his cigarette. You couldn’t help but smile, amused by the fact that he could say that with a perfectly straight face - it was immediately obvious that he and Eddie were related.
You wrapped your arms around yourself while slowly blowing smoke between your lips - despite your sweater, you probably could have used at least one more layer to keep warm. October was always an unpredictable month for the weather in Hawkins - one day the sun would shine bright, the next you’d be freezing your ass off. Your eyes drifted across the quiet trailer park for a few beats before you looked at Wayne again.
“Not a habit I expected to pick up.” You answered conversationally, hoping he didn’t feel as awkward as you did - you weren’t really sure how to talk to the man who raised your fake boyfriend that you totally weren’t crushing on. Wayne hummed in response, allowing you to study him as he also looked around at the neighbor’s homes absentmindedly.
“Should we formally introduce ourselves, or would you prefer to stay strangers?” Again, you smiled at Wayne’s distinct personality, rough around the edges but so clearly kind at his core. Again, it reminded you of Eddie. His sense of humor was odd, but not off-putting to you - maybe that stemmed from your own habit of speaking plainly and from an emotional distance.
So, you gave Wayne your name and he returned the favor, nodding simply while dropping his cigarette butt in the nearby ashtray. He looked up at you with an expression that you’d seen on Eddie’s face before, which was nearly startling - his eyes were studious, as if he were trying to make sense of you, a stare that you were becoming all too familiar with. You could feel your neck warm a little as you waited for him to say something.
“Relax, kid,” He pointed lazily to the couch, which you still chose to lean against rather than sit on. So, you slowly settled yourself onto the cushion, trying to ignore the worn spring that poked at your back. Again, Wayne studied you for a moment longer, making you a little nervous under his stare, “You seem good for Ed.”
The simple statement took you aback, your brows going up in response, which must have amused Wayne if his faint smirk was anything to go on. You looked down while taking another deep drag, shaking your head a little, though not necessarily in disagreement. Really, you didn’t know why you shook your head. Maybe because you knew you and Eddie were bullshitting everyone, and getting a compliment of that sort from Wayne felt wrong; it made you all too aware of your deception.
He shrugged simply, looking back out at the horizon and the vague streams of sunlight that were just beginning to come up, “Suit yourself.”
“You’re probably the only person who sees it,” You responded smally, taking one last inhale from your cigarette. As if on cue, Wayne held the ashtray in your direction, and you put the cigarette out with a thankful look. It’s not as if you wanted to complain to Wayne, but the words just seemed to roll out of you with ease, “I knew people wouldn’t like me and Eddie dating, but I guess I never thought about just how terrible they’d all be… Or maybe it’s me, fuck if I know.”
You were tempted to grab another cigarette just so you could have something to do with your hands, but you settled for fidgeting with the lighter instead. Wayne turned his eyes back towards you for a brief moment, but the both of you continued to stare anywhere but at each other. It felt so damn odd to be here, sitting in silence with Eddie’s uncle with such ease - it should’ve been more awkward, you should’ve been more standoffish. But maybe after yesterday, your energy was too low to be worried about that sort of thing.
“So long as you’re not causing too much trouble, there’s no harm.” He answered simply, slouching a little in his fold out chair, crossing his arms over his chest comfortably, “You two’ll be just fine.”
“You’re sure about that?” You couldn’t help but counter, although not argumentatively; no, you asked it because you simply didn’t believe it.
Wayne shrugged again, meeting your eyes, “That’s up to you, isn’t it?”
You couldn’t argue with that, so you simply made a noncommittal face of agreement, biting the inside of your cheek as you watched more sun rays slowly shine in the sky. The two of you sat in a comfortable, companionable silence for a few minutes, although your mind was going a hundred miles an hour - you couldn’t help but find it odd how easy it was to exist in the same space as Wayne, a man that you literally just spoke to for the first time.
You were bombarded by thoughts of your own family and how damn different this was. Most days, it was impossible to even be in the same room as your father, whose domineering energy was oftentimes unbearable and irritating. Meanwhile the man who raised Eddie put you immediately at ease, had a relaxed energy that invited you to him. For a moment, you felt a flare of anger that you never got to have someone kind like this in your life, that your “idealistic family” was the exact opposite of such.
Wayne eventually rose to his feet, grunting a little as he looked down at you, “I got a long day ahead.”
You nodded, deciding to head back inside too; you’d been willing to fight the morning cold for the sake of sitting with Wayne, but if he was heading back inside you sure as hell weren’t going to stay out here. He held the door open for you, and you nodded in thanks while ducking back into the house, trying to make yourself small against the bedroom door so that you didn’t take up the cramped hallway space. As Wayne shut the door behind him, he gave you a kind little smile.
“Make sure he’s up at a decent time,” he pointed at Eddie’s closed door, “he can’t be missing any more school if he wants to graduate.”
You gave a short nod before opening the bedroom behind you, slipping inside as Wayne turned towards the restroom. Your eyes had to adjust to the darkness of the room, your feet sliding quietly across the floor to avoid tripping over anything and making more noise than necessary.
“Were you talking to Wayne?” Eddie’s voice startled you from the dark, a surprised sound escaping you as you shot a look in his direction. Your ears warmed as your heart beat just a little faster, something that made you immediately want to kick yourself - you don’t like Eddie, you reminded yourself on repeat.
Your eyes had adjusted enough that you could see the outline of Eddie’s silhouette propped up on one elbow in bed. Your voice was quiet with your response, “Yeah.”
Eddie hummed, much in that same way that you heard Wayne do earlier, which caused you to smile to yourself. You glanced at the alarm clock near him as you stood near the bed.
“He said you can’t miss school, so you should probably take me home.” Even without being able to see Eddie’s face, it’s as if you could feel the concern settling in there. Going out on a limb, you added, “Don’t give me that look.”
“You can’t even see my face!” Eddie’s ruffled voice was laced with humor.
“I don’t need to see it to know you’re pitying me.” You laughed a little, but were surprised by Eddie’s hand grabbing your forearm; you hadn’t realized you were close enough for him to touch you, and it sent a jolt through your body.
“I’m not,” You knew he was leveling you with a serious stare, “Just… worried, considering yesterday.”
Your brows turned down, “The longer I avoid them, the worse it’ll get; I wanna piss them off, but not so bad that they start plotting my murder.”
“Why not just wait? We’ll go to school, then you can deal with them later.” Eddie’s grip on your arm tightened for a brief moment before he released you.
You laughed smally, “Well, considering my outfit choices are either ‘teenage boy’s dirty pajamas’ or ‘Saturday night hooker,’ I’d rather go home and change first.”
Eddie scoffed but nonetheless laughed with you; you thought you heard him grumble “Saturday night hooker” to himself, but you couldn’t be sure, as at the same moment he kicked off the bedsheets and stumbled over to open the curtains. You both cringed a little, the sun now high enough in the sky for its light to come through the window. You watched as Eddie yawned and stretched, first twisting his back before raising his arms above his head. Seeing a sliver of skin at his waist, you quickly diverted your gaze, not wanting to be caught staring as your ears grew hot. In a measly effort to distract yourself, you began to collect what few belongings you had lying around the room.
“If it makes you feel better, my dad’ll already be gone by the time we get there,” You started, glancing back towards Eddie, your eyes briefly looking him up and down, “And you can come in with me - that’ll keep my mom from acting hysterical.”
A slight laugh escaped him, “You sure I won’t cause the hysterics?”
You shrugged as you two turned back towards one another, “I guess we’ll see.”
Eddie looked to be in consideration of something for a beat before accepting your response, “Right. Gimme ten minutes.”
The trek to your house was passed in relative ease - with how much he chauffeured you around these days, you figured you probably owed Eddie quite a lot of gas money.
At the house, you two didn’t even cross paths with your mother, who was cooped up in the master suite the entire time - she probably didn’t even know you and Eddie were there, too busy fussing with her extensive morning routine. You tried to freshen up as quickly as possible, fussing with your hair, reapplying makeup, choosing a new outfit.
All the while, Eddie studied your room, looking to be in total disbelief at how much space you had - your room was double the size of his, you had a walk-in closet, and your own en suite bathroom. You were beginning to feel self-conscious, guilty at how much excessive space you had compared to what little he had in his own home.
When you finally exited the bathroom, you found Eddie studying your VHS collection that lined nearly an entire bookshelf. You wondered if he was impressed by the assortment or if he was resentful of how much you had. Aside from the shelf of movies, little of your personality was truly conveyed in your bedroom - your mother was too fussy about the house to allow you to completely make the space your own. Yes, you had your trophies and medals on display, you had framed photos from your childhood placed sparingly about, you had pretty pastel throw pillows and decor, but otherwise the room was nearly clinical in appearance. Again, you felt sheepish about what Eddie’s impression of it might be.
You led Eddie back out of the house just as quickly as you’d led him in, unwilling to hang around longer than necessary. And, much to your surprise, you two actually made it to school with just a few minutes to spare. You nearly, impulsive leaned in to hug Eddie goodbye, but caught yourself mid-movement, awkwardly spinning around to rush off towards your first period class. You hoped he didn’t clock what you nearly did, and you also hoped the embarrassment didn’t alight your face once you caught yourself and ran off. You did not like Eddie, you reminded yourself yet again.
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As the lunch bell rang out, you quickly scooped your belongings off the lab table you shared with a fellow student, retreating from the classroom without stealing a glance back. All throughout fourth period, you caught Duncan shooting loathsome looks your way, and considering how your weekend had gone, you really weren’t in the mood to deal with him.
You figured he had one of two reasons to be pissy with you: the most likely reason was, of course, the fact that someone slashed his tires homecoming night. That someone was you, but you sure as hell weren’t about to confirm that for him.
The second, and less likely, reason was that you and Eddie actually won homecoming king and queen; apparently, everyone in this school had a shitty enough sense of humor to latch onto that miserable joke.
You found out during second period as you mindlessly streaked watercolors across paper, letting the paint bleed and puddle together. At the work station closest to you was Chrissy, who seemed to be just as mindlessly focusing on whatever she was doing; she was interrupted by a fellow cheerleader, who was being far from subtle when she asked “so, Chrissy, what do you think of the little ice princess over there beating you out for the crown?”
It was clear that the girl was trying to start something, so you simply shot her the coldest glare you could muster; you unintentionally caught Chrissy’s eyes a moment later, and to your surprise she appeared somewhat apologetic. As the second cheerleader walked away, you “accidentally” knocked over your cup of filthy paint water, trying not to relish in the way the girl squealed as it splashed down the length of her leg. You thought you may have seen Chrissy smirk, but perhaps that was just wishful thinking.
So, knowing that Duncan surely wanted to confront you about something, you hightailed it out of class, doing your best to try and avoid him. You’d had enough confrontation the past weekend to last you at least the next month.
Of course, your running off didn’t dissuade Duncan in the slightest; he caught up to you quickly and roughly grabbed your shoulder, trying to spin you around. Without a second thought, you aggressively smacked his hand, causing him to exclaim with pain while pulling back.
“Don’t fucking touch me.” You bite, turning your fiery glare onto Duncan, crossing your arms and jutting your hip with all the attitude you could muster. From the look on his face, you knew he was too worked up for something as simple as homecoming - this was most definitely about his car.
A mean scoff sounded in his throat, his tone accusatory as packs of students parted around you two in the migration to the cafeteria, “Were you the one that messed with my car?”
You gave Duncan an innocent look of confusion, although you weren’t overly concerned with it being all that convincing - if your eyes glittered with amusement, then so be it.
“What are you talking about?” You had to fight back the beguiled grin that dared to cross your lips - that would’ve been as good as admitting you were guilty, and you weren’t about to do that. No, you’d just mock him with your eyes, taunt him with your words.
Duncan gave you a mean, challenging glare, eyes narrowing as he took a step towards you. Squaring your shoulders, you refused to move an inch, planting yourself firmly - this boy didn’t scare you in the slightest, no matter how hard he tried, “You know exactly what I’m talking about.”
“No, I really don’t.” Your response was clipped as the both of you glared daggers, neither of you willing to back down to the other.
“So, your dumb boyfriend, then?” Duncan grinned cruelly, as if Eddie was just a joke to him; your jaw clenched harder, your heart skipping as the need to defend him arose. You took a moment to collect yourself, however, knowing that you couldn’t fly off the handle and accidentally say something you’d regret.
“I don’t know what you think Eddie did, but leave him the hell alone.” Your tone was low and serious as you took a couple slow, taunting steps back, preparing to end this face off before it could continue.
In the next moment, though, Amelia and a couple of Duncan’s friends appeared nearby, clearly en route to meet him; a part of you wondered if they knew he planned on confronting you like this. Seeing the intent in their faces, you rolled your mean eyes, turning to walk away because you just knew this shit was about to get worse.
“Hey, homecoming queen, where you running off to?” Amelia’s sing-song taunting grated at you, and you shot a vicious glare back over your shoulder.
“Anywhere but here, runner-up.” You gave her an impudent smile as you continued to walk away. But you could hear them following just a step behind you, which is exactly what you had expected of them; you used to be one of these kids, after all, so you knew all of their tricks.
“It’s rude to leave in the middle of a conversation.” Amelia’s voice trailed behind you as an annoyed sigh left your mouth. You continued forward, hoping that your posture appeared completely unbothered, even as the look on your face showed otherwise. The group continued to talk to your back, and you fought hard to keep your mouth wired shut, refusing to respond to their incessant taunting.
You rounded a corner as they determinedly followed after you, and when you nearly walked right into Eddie, a sense of relief washed over you; he must have been on his way to meet you, considering this direction was opposite of the cafeteria. He looked startled and then amused to bump into you, until the group of assholes rounded the corner as well, causing his expression to quickly falter. The two of you shared a tired, fed up look - yesterday was one problem, today was another, and it left you wondering if these annoyances would only continue.
“Would you look at that - just the guy I wanted to talk to.” Duncan greeted with cruel, false friendliness. Without ever having come to a full stop, you grabbed Eddie’s hand and yanked him along with you, forcing him to stumble over his feet before meeting your pace as you continued retreating from this bullshit confrontation, “Oh, come on, wait; I just wanna talk.”
“Piss off, he didn't do shit.” You responded harshly, staring ahead with a wicked glare, although you knew walking away wouldn’t stop them from taunting you. You've seen enough of these antagonistic conversations before to know exactly what to expect - they’d find a way to corner you, mock and belittle you, and then once they were satisfied with your misery, they’d laugh and leave as if nothing happened. You loathed to think that you were once friends with these people, that you were once as nasty as them, and so you were determined to not let this crap happen to you and Eddie.
“The hell are you running for?” Amelia continued with a hint of aggression in her tone. Her hand fell roughly onto your shoulder, manicured nails digging into your skin, “What, are you feeling guilty about something?”
Just like with Duncan, you swatted Amelia’s hand but refused to stop for her, your angered glare deepening as you resisted the temptation to look back at her. You couldn’t give her that satisfaction. But, as you expected, Amelia didn’t like being brushed off, so in retaliation she gave Eddie’s back an unexpected shove, causing you both to stumble a little.
And that was the exact switch that she needed to flip, because without a second thought you whipped around to confront her, tugging your hand out of Eddie’s so you could jab a finger at Amelia. As your energy boiled red hot, you could see her torn between satisfaction and fear.
“Don’t fucking start with me.” You threatened as she matched your glare with her own. All the boys stood back, creating a pseudo-fighting ring around you and Amelia as you both waited for the other’s next move.
“Or what?” She taunted as you arched your brow challengingly; your jaw was clenched so tight that your teeth nearly hurt. When you didn’t grace her with a response, Amelia rolled her eyes in an exaggerated fashion, “Geez, you’re so tempermental these days, it's ridiculous.”
“What’s ridiculous is the fact that you won’t just leave us alone.” You looked around the group harshly, your glower darkening on Duncan before you returned your cruel gaze to Amelia, “I’m not gonna take your shit, so stop trying to intimidate me.”
Again, she rolled her eyes, this time with a condescending smirk, “I don’t need to intimidate you; it’s more fun to get a rise out of you, anyway.” When your face tightened with annoyance, she added with satisfaction, “See? Even that got to you, you make it so easy.”
You resisted the urge to insult her or smack her, resisted the temptation to spew terrible things in her face - you couldn’t take anymore fighting right now, and you couldn’t give her any of the satisfaction that would come with your retaliating. So, you took a couple steady breaths through your nose, your eyes flaring with intensity before you calmed down.
“Whatever.” You huffed, rolling your eyes as you turned back towards Eddie, ready to lead him away from this group of bullies.
“Do you even realize how damn transparent you two are?” Amelia prodded again. You wished you were stubborn enough to just walk away, but you couldn’t help but look back over your shoulder; her expression was smug, arms crossed with a sassy attitude, “Some of us have started placing bets on when you’ll finally give this up.”
She got you going again whether you liked it or not, and so you mirrored Amelia’s posture as she looked cruelly between you and Eddie, “Give what up?”
“You’re clearly faking this whole thing.” Your surprised, affronted expression only seemed to amuse her, egging her on even as you tried to control the nervous beating of your heart, “You and Munson? Do you think any of us have been buying this? This whole thing between you too is so fake, it's almost sad.”
Putting on a brave, confident face, you bit back with malice, “Really, you think we’re faking all of this? Shows how much you know.”
“Please, I’ve known you since grade school.” Amelia took a challenging step towards you, eyes alight with spite, “You hate being touched, you’ve told me as much - wouldn’t even let Duncan hold your hand or hug you most of the time. But you cling to this freak as if you’re obsessed with him? It's performative.”
You were about to retaliate, but Amelia was just a little faster and a little louder as she continued over you, bulldozing through whatever you may have wanted to say.
“And don’t get me started on the stupid little face Munson makes at you, like he’s asking for permission to do something or that he needs approval of what he says. I don’t know why, but you put him up to this - I can read you better than anyone else.”
A worried part of you knew that, in some ways, Amelia was right - you two had spent so many years by each other’s sides, and had done just about everything together since you were five or six years old. The rapid dissolution of your friendship didn’t mean that you two would simply forget everything about one another - how could you forget the time Amelia stayed up late in the night to help you with a school project, how could she forget the time you instigated a fight with a boy who rejected her?
Hell, you and Amelia had spent more time with each other than either of you had spent with Janet, having sleepovers without her or going to movies and not telling her. At one time, you two were practically attached at the hip, doing nearly everything together from the ages of ten to thirteen.
So, if anyone was going to see through your lie, it would be Amelia - it didn’t matter just how good a liar you were, Amelia knew how you ticked. And, apparently, she’d been paying a lot of attention to you and Eddie, probably trying to catch you two in a lie.
But, then again, if she knew this was fake, why didn’t she say something about it sooner? Was she simply watching and waiting in amusement, anticipating when you’d give up the act? Or was she using this lie of yours to her advantage somehow? Better yet, was she the one lying to you right now, saying anything just to get a reaction from you?
As your angry eyes bounced around Amelia’s face in search of the truth, your expression only darkened, feeling fired up and eager to fight. When she simply raised a mocking eyebrow - daring you to prove her wrong - your stubbornness flared to the point that your fiery frustration boiled back down to icy contempt.
Without a moment of hesitation, you gave her a smart look, your tone condescending and cold, accentuated by a mean smirk, “Well, how about you try reading this, you jealous bitch.”
With a flip of your hair you marched back towards Eddie, completely blind to the potential repercussions of what you were about to do. Your determined eyes met his confused ones, but you didn’t take a moment to second guess yourself as you threw your arms around his neck, knotting your fingers into the curls at the nape of his neck. For a split second, you could see the alarmed realization in Eddie’s face, but just as quickly you were drawing that handsome face down towards yours.
Your lips crashed together like rocky waves, noses bumping and teeth practically clashing; the kiss was sloppy and haphazard, the farthest thing from hot, and yet your entire body pulsed along with the excited leap of your heart. Eddie went rigid against you as if in alarm, and so you kissed him encouragingly, as if silently insisting that he get it together. When you tightened your grip on his hair and pressed your body flush against his, you could feel Eddie’s shoulders relax, could feel the exact moment that he gave himself over to you.
Once Eddie’s lips moved wantonly against yours, sparks flew through your entire being, your heart drumming aggressively in your chest as heat pooled in your center. In sync, you and Eddie melted together, a lithe arm snaking around your waist and pressing firmly against the small of your back; the flex of his fingers along your spine sent another surge through your body, a satisfied sigh daring to escape you.
God, you felt fucking weak in the knees, like a melting puddle in Eddie’s arms; as if to keep yourself upright, you cling to him even tighter, your lips suddenly full of a hungry, desperate fervor. Eddie’s kiss was inexperienced and tentative, and yet you found him utterly intoxicating, his mouth tasting malted and smoky as if he’d recently had a cigarette.
You were consumed by the moment, forgetting yourself as your tongue teased at Eddie’s lower lip; perhaps for the best, it caused him to hesitate, even as you felt him gasp against your lips. For a moment, he pinned you tighter against him before bringing the heated kiss to an end, pulling back with a deep breath as he watched you through his lashes.
Short breaths caused your chest to press against Eddie’s in a way that you tried to ignore, your hooded eyes staring at the shiny tint of your gloss that had transferred to his full lips. Electricity coursed through you, your body sensitive and heated as you finally met Eddie’s attentive, fraught gaze; as you stared, your mind was too frazzled to even think straight.
As if he could tell you were reeling, Eddie composed himself to the best of his ability, taking a step back, but keeping his hand securely on your back as if to keep you upright. Coming back to yourself, you blinked and attempted to correct your expression, nearly too embarrassed to look back at the group that was surely ogling the two of you.
In an effort to appear entirely unaffected, you brushed your hair back from your face and huffed as you met Amelia’s eyes. Your cheeks were flushed and your eyes were still probably large with surprise, but you attempted to give her a smart, mean look; your voice was weaker than you would have liked as you asked accusatory, “You perverts enjoy that?”
Eddie, too, tried to put up a calm and collected front, using his hand on your back to guide you in the opposite direction of your former friends. While flipping the bird over his shoulder, he attempted to give them a self-satisfied grin, although to you it was so clearly false. Much like you, his tone wasn’t entirely convincing, “Go find someone else to torment.”
As the two of you continued down the hall, you found yourself momentarily hypnotized by Eddie’s features, mesmerized by each tiny detail of his eyes, his mouth, his skin. When he looked forward again, you quickly scrubbed away the look of uncertain elation on your face, forcing yourself to put on an impassive expression. As you stared mindlessly ahead, you had to resist the temptation to press your fingertips to your swollen lips, trying not to be so damn in awe of the fact that you kissed Eddie.
The trek to the cafeteria was passed in total silence, as if neither of you knew how to strike up a conversation after that; your cheeks were warm as you kept stealing glances up at Eddie, who faced forward as if determined not to meet your eyes. The kiss played in your head over and over again as if it were a goddamn movie, the reel on a loop as you thought about his musky scent engulfing you, his wild hair tickling your face, his dexterous hand holding you close.
You could feel heat rising all the way up your neck and ears now, causing you to nearly giggle as you suppressed a grin. You thought you may have caught Eddie glancing at you, but you couldn’t quite bring yourself to check in case you two met eyes - that would most certainly make you laugh like a schoolgirl, and you were not about to do that.
You were at odds with yourself - your silly, childish side was practically fawning over the damned kiss, meanwhile your colder, more adamant side tried to shove the giddiness down. You were supposed to be moving on from this crush on Eddie, not making it worse. You shouldn’t have been stupid, you shouldn’t have kissed him, but you got caught up in the heat of the moment, allowing your pride to outweigh your head.
But, shit, that kiss was too good, and you just knew you’d be thinking about it for the rest of the week. You were an absolute idiot for kissing Eddie like that, and you wanted to kick yourself for it. You had to wonder what the hell Eddie was thinking, what the hell he’d say about this later; you both clearly figured that now wasn’t the time, hence your silence, although you feared the inevitable discussion that would come from this.
With each glance you stole up at Eddie’s annoyingly attractive face, you grew more and more worried that maybe you upset him by doing that. Unfortunately for you, now was one of the few times he seemed guarded, because you couldn’t read his straight expression in the slightest. You figured he must’ve understood why you kissed him, but you also suspected that it made him uncomfortable, even as he kissed you back just to appease the onlookers.
You already knew Eddie was a good actor, always putting on a performance for whoever was around even if they were his friends, so his ability to seamlessly slide into the kiss was terribly convincing. In that way, you were lucky, because neither of you looked stupid in front of your attempted bullies. But not so luckily for you, that kiss was far too enticing, as your heart still beat rapidly in your chest and your head was still fuzzy with confusion.
As you two entered the cafeteria and Eddie threw up that easy, joyful smile that often rested across his lips, it reaffirmed that, yes, he was acting, doing exactly the thing you asked him to in this little game of make-believe. You were almost mesmerized by how easily he played his part, guiding you through the lunch line and then to your table, tugging your chair closer to his so he could rest his knee against yours or throw his arm over your shoulder.
It went from being mesmerizing to annoying, because how could he so seamlessly put on these fronts when you were still struggling to regain your composure? How could he laugh and tell stories while his hand was on your thigh and making your entire body feel static? God, it was almost pathetic how worked up you’d gotten, and you just prayed that no one drew attention to it.
As lunch went on and Eddie kept everyone entertained, something began to nag at you that you couldn’t quite place, like a pressure at the back of your skull trying to remind you of something. All throughout the hour, the nagging grew as the kiss played through your mind again and again, even as you tried to think about literally anything else.
While trying to place what was worrying at your mind, you traced your finger lightly along your lower lip, back and forth in an unconscious motion that you weren’t aware of until your gaze flicked over to Eddie. His eyes were locked onto your lips, even as he spoke to the rest of the group, though his speech seemed to slow a little. You quickly dropped your hand into your lap, your body tightening nervously.
You realized that what you felt was a sense of familiarity, that there was an incomplete memory in your head on the verge of coming back to the surface. It was almost as if… kissing Eddie reminded you of something else, recalled another moment in some way. As you lingered on this, it almost seemed as if you already knew his musky scent, his plush lips, his lingering touch. But that was crazy - why would any of those things be familiar to you?
Had the kiss with Eddie simply been similar to a kiss you’d had with someone in the past? Perhaps you were confusing moments, befuddling sensations, because you most certainly hadn’t kissed Eddie before. Nothing about this should have stirred some kind of half-remembered moment, yet, you couldn’t just shake off that peculiar feeling.
You’ve never kissed Eddie prior to today, that couldn’t have happened, so why were you somehow under the impression that you had? When would you have done something that ridiculous and bold and thoughtless?
And then it hit you like a ton of bricks - the hours lost to your mind, waking up in the van, Eddie’s nerves throughout the morning.
Did you kiss him at the party?
With an anxious skip of your heart, your apprehensive gaze flicked back over to Eddie, who was caught up in telling a new story that you hadn’t been listening to you. You drank in his features with a mixture of desire and dread, torn between the two parts of yourself. You couldn’t have kissed him at the party, right? Even if you were drunk off your ass, that seemed like the kind of thing you wouldn’t so easily forget. But you had forgotten so much of that night, had a gap in your memory the size of a canyon… anything could have happened in those however-many hours that slipped by you.
Staring at Eddie’s lips, a wave of nerves crashed over you, and you had to force yourself to look elsewhere. If you did kiss him, why wouldn’t he have brought it up? Why wouldn’t he have asked about it? You must have made him uncomfortable, must have done something that he didn’t like, and he’d rather ignore it than ever address it again. And like an idiot, you kissed him again today, which probably did nothing to make Eddie feel any easier around you.
That was all the confirmation you needed to decide that you could never tell Eddie about this crush of yours - if he liked you in that same way, you would have already known about it. He would have mentioned that supposed first kiss, right? But because he hadn’t, you knew it wasn’t a subject he wanted to address.
And, so, this kiss wouldn’t be discussed either, you decided. You could ignore the butterflies in your stomach for Eddie’s sake, you could go on pretending that everything was perfectly fine between the two of you. You had to pretend.
With a dejected slump of your shoulders, you crossed your arms and slouched; Eddie’s hand still rested easily atop your thigh, and the way you lulled in the seat caused his fingertips to brush under your skirt a little, sending a bawdy jolt up through your center. You stole a timid glance at him from the corner of your eyes, watching as he realized his hand was higher on your leg before he pulled it back with a start.
There was no way Eddie liked you back, and you sighed to yourself, already missing his warm skin against yours.
(part 2 following You Can Wrap Me 'Round Your Finger)
You prepare to tell Loki you love him. Much to his embarrassment, Loki has to tell you something, too.
(aka - frost giant biology is weird and Loki has to suffer the consequences) (and you're kinda into it) (oops)
Chapter 2 / 2 -- read it on AO3 here
Word count: ~9k
Warnings: 18+ !! fem reader; courtship/nesting behaviour, smut (and I mean... smut)
You watched Steve haul himself into the boxing ring, internally groaning at the thought of going toe-to-toe with the Man with a Plan himself.
Loki hovered at your shoulder looking decidedly out of place in a button-down and trousers; he was off the training roster for the week after Bucky had benched him for his ‘poor attitude’. The only people currently brave (or stupid) enough to spar with him were Steve and Thor, the latter of whom was banned from sparring with Loki indoors because of, to quote Pepper, the 'Thor-And-Loki Event' in June.
Privately, you agreed with Bucky’s assessment – Loki had been acting strange lately. Clingy, extra affectionate but equally as moody. Any time you tried to pry you were met with the same response – that Loki was “fine” and “had complete control” over the situation.
Sometimes the best option with Loki was to let him come to you. His desire for absolute control was multi-faceted, but it usually worked out best if he could ask for help and feel like he had an explanation as to why. You knew from experience that hounding him could dig up raw insecurities about worth and ability. So - you made the most of it; if Loki was going to be clingy, he could at least be useful and clingy.
“Hold these, please.” You pushed your towel and water bottle into his hand. Loki accepted them with only minor complaint, tucking them under his arm to make room for everything else you were sure to pile onto him.
Steve rattled the ropes fencing him inside the boxing ring. “Come on, soldier. Don’t keep an old man waiting.”
Loki stretched to hide his sparkling fingertips; you knew his seidr well enough by now to recognize how Steve’s shoelaces unraveled with a mind of their own.
With his arms raised like that, there was no denying Loki’s ‘growth-spurt’ – the buttons on his shirt strained to stay in their buttonholes, gaping a little across his chest. You fought back a grin, watching a young intern (definitely part of Tony’s university pipeline program) spill water down her front while admiring the pull of yet another too-small shirt. A few of her friends giggled, their faces downcast but their gazes teasing, peering up through their eyelashes every few seconds.
“What?” Loki glanced over his shoulder in the direction you were looking.
“Nothing. Some kids are staring at you, that’s all.” You honestly weren’t offended - you remembered what it was like to want Loki from afar, and you weren’t blind. You knew passersby were going to gawk and shoot him longing stares. Loki, however, seemed uncharacteristically upset. His eyes narrowed, upper lip curled slightly in dissatisfaction, and he turned back to you with his shoulders drawn taut. He hooked his fingers in the pocket of your hoodie – Loki’s hoodie, actually, since yours seemed to have mysteriously disappeared – and tugged you into his chest, pressing a firm, dry kiss to your mouth.
You blinked dazedly at him once he’d slunk back. “Is this one of those ‘obviously not interested’ moments?”
He shrugged. “Something like that.”
“People stare all the time. It’s nothing new.”
“I know.” A pretty pink blush was creeping up his cheeks, warming his pale complexion. “I just thought it pertinent to make my intentions crystal clear.” Then, after a beat- “Do you think anyone would notice if I locked the changing room doors and had my way with you?”
You rolled your eyes. “Of course they would. Now– help me up. I have a senior citizen to cream.”
If anyone was getting creamed, it was you.
You circled the boxing ring on shaky feet, watching Steve round on you with that quiet cockiness of his. He flicked his stupidly perfect bangs out of his stupidly beautiful eyes and mimed a one-two punch combo while you considered giving into the universe and letting your limbs turn to oatmeal. Bucky sat in a folding chair on the sidelines, picking your scrimmage apart with his stupidly brilliant and equally beautiful eyes.
You hated them.
Bucky picked up on details you would never have noticed – your uneven stance, the angle of your elbow when you raised your fists – and, while helpful on paper, it only served to raise your blood pressure by a few degrees. Not helped by the fact that Bucky seemed to know what moves Steve was going to make before he did, so could comment on your form before you’d even finished a move.
PAL whistled encouragement when you just barely blocked a left hook. Tony had set him in Bucky’s lap so he could watch you and Steve train. (“He’s so little. He can’t see over anything.”) At least PAL liked you, even if he was out for blood.
“I agree with the pest, darling. You should wring his neck,” Loki offered from the sidelines. He leant his head on his forearms where they were draped over the ropes, his bored expression betrayed only by the way his brow furrowed whenever Steve got too close to landing a hit.
(You were admittedly not very good at hand-to-hand combat. As a telekinetic, your fists were usually a last resort in the field.)
“This would all be so much easier if you stopped - hey! - swinging so much.” You swept the back of your hand across your eyes, hoping to clear the sweat pouring into them. “Also, has your stuff been going missing lately?”
“Kind of defeats the whole purpose of combat training.” Steve frowned, then threw his body weight into a kick to your chest, which you only barely dodged. He stumbled but quickly corrected, spinning to catch your right hook effortlessly. “But no, nothing’s gone missing lately. Well, my veggie straws have been disappearing but I buy those because Bucky insists he doesn’t like them and then sneaks them from my cupboard. Has he been breaking into yours too?”
You squirmed, planting your feet and leveraging your upper body to try and pry out of his hold. Unfortunately for you, Steve was two hundred and seventy pounds of solid steel pretending to be flesh, so you might as well have been a leaf trapped under a fourteen-wheeler. “No. My pillows keep disappearing.”
Your feet briefly left the ground when Steve lifted you by the wrists. He dumped you unceremoniously on the padded floor of the boxing ring and proceeded to loom over you, his expression caught somewhere between amusement and fatherly rage. “Someone’s been perving on you?”
You pushed yourself upright, wincing when you felt your muscles protest the movement. “I don’t know!”
“Weird. Maybe you have a secret admirer. Loki!” Steve mimed an elbow drop but pulled his weight at the last second; he rolled to the side and sprawled out, all six-feet-four-inches of him laid out next to you without having broken a sweat. “Keep an eye on your girl, ya’ hear?”
Loki visibly preened at the idea of you being his girl. You felt a whisper of seidr across your cheek, a sparkling green kiss so fleeting it could have been a trick.
Steve squinted up at him from the floor of the boxing ring. “Are you bigger?”
“You’ve gotta start throwing punches, kid.” Bucky interrupted from the sidelines. PAL bobbed his head in agreement. “Look, I was just like you. A sharp shooter–”
“I’m telekinetic.”
“My point still stands. I did all my best work from a hundred yards away. But sometimes, in the field, you’re gonna have some guy get in your space and wail on you, and I need to know you won’t just fold like a deck of cards when that happens.”
“I’m sorry I’m not built like a tank, Bucky.” You swiped the edge of your shirt over your forehead, grimacing when the already-wet material slid over your damp brow.
“I’m not saying you have to put on a hundred pounds of muscle. Just-” Bucky slipped under the rope and into your personal space, rounding on you from behind to wrap his flesh arm around your throat. His other hand shot out and circled your wrist, holding it at an awkward angle so that your muscles locked uncomfortably. “Just play dirty. If I get this close, I will kill you. So what are you going to do about it?”
You hissed, jerking under his metal hand. “Ow, Bucky, I get it–”
It took all three of you a moment to register that the noise rumbling through the air was coming from Loki. The fluorescents overhead flickered in waves, darkness ebbing and flowing from a point above Loki’s head. They buzzed and crackled unnaturally with displeasure. Bucky’s arms dropped away to put a bit of space between your bodies. Loki’s eyebrows drew tight in the middle, a scowl twisting his pretty face.
“Hey, My Chemical Mischief,” Tony yelled from across the gym. “Cool it with the dick measuring contest, will you? We get it, she’s a kept woman - I don’t think Barnes wants any of that.”
Thor laughed. Racking his barbells, he straddled his padded bench and flicked sparks of electricity from his fingertips, a strange side-effect that manifested whenever he strained himself. He taunted something to Loki in their mother tongue and the effect was instantaneous; Loki gaped at his brother, his growling cut short, and hurled something – an insult? – back.
With a few words they reduced the other to adolescents. Though none of you mortals could even hope to dissect their twisting language, it was clear that the two of them were rehashing centuries of arguments all at once.
Loki reeled back when Thor, his nose tilted to the ceiling, punctuated a sentence with a nod in your direction. “You will do nothing of the sort,” Loki snapped in English.
“Loki.” Exasperation dripped from Thor’s tone, mingling with the kind of joy that came from lecturing a younger sibling. He folded his arms and shot Loki a smarmy do-as-I-say glare. ”This is only going to end in disaster.”
Loki’s jaw snapped shut with a click. His pinched expression seemed to push Thor to hysterics. Thor goaded him on, wagging a callused finger; Loki’s hand fisted at his side as he moved to strangle his brother.
They must have been terrible pests on Asgard.
In English, Thor continued: “I have never been happier that you were adopted. Oh, how the mighty have fallen. You’re preening. ”
Loki crossed the gym in a few long strides, a veritable storm cloud brewing over his head. The air crackled, ozone heavy in the air; the difference in pressure caused the open changing room door to slam shut, as if a draft had kicked up. Tony hopped to his feet, pointing between the two brothers. “Nuh uh. You guys take it outside. I am filled with too much scrap metal for you two to be throwing thunderstorms around inside. Again. ”
Loki grabbed his brother by the scruff of his neck. Thor stumbled, still laughing, and tucked his shoulder into Loki’s chest as if to throw him over it. Loki hissed something unintelligible - Tony hollered something unrepeatable - and then the two brothers blinked out of sight in a flash of bright green.
You ran into them in the lobby on your way back from the corner store that evening. Both of them were soaking wet, their plainclothes plastered to their skin. Loki brushed by you with a stormy expression, anger rolling off of him in palpable waves; Thor followed a few feet behind, decidedly more jovial. Loki called over his shoulder: “do not say anything, Thor. I’m handling this.”
They left a trail of rainwater in their wake, their shoes squeaking across the marble floor. Thor clapped you on the shoulder as you passed and, through the widest grin you’d ever seen, said: “my darling friend – make sure you use protection.”
A flash of green sizzled across Thor’s knuckles; he yanked his hand away with a shout, raising his hand to examine a line of fresh, pink welts. Loki hissed at him; Thor cast you a sideways look, then winked. To his brother, he called: “I am always right, am I not?”
Loki snapped his fingers, calling Thor to attention like a master might call their dog to heel. Except Thor was the oldest, and had a petty streak longer than the continental United States, and his younger brother’s displeasure clearly brought him unbridled joy, so Thor slung one arm around your shoulder and gave you a squeeze, rubbing his prickly cheek against yours for good measure.
You squirmed under his arm. “Is this another Asgardian thing?”
Thor answered “no” at the same time that Loki answered “yes”.
Loki stormed back to your side and wrenched his brother away, speaking in a low tone. Fixing his brother with a scathing stare, Loki rubbed his thumb over your jaw, then rode his hand down the curve of your neck to sit on your shoulder, as if to wipe the physical evidence of his brother’s touch from your skin.
Thor sidled up behind Loki and scrubbed a hand over your cheek; Loki, hackles raised, elbowed his brother in the side, setting off a chain reaction of flying fists and snapping teeth.
Your groceries were definitely melting. “I’m gonna go. Uh, Loki, you can… You can come upstairs when you’re… done…”
Loki, who was trapped in a headlock by his older brother, nodded jerkily to you. “Of course, dear– Thor. You foul–”
You watched as your boyfriend transformed into a glossy black snake. He fell to the marble with a sad, wet slap and played dead, lolled tongue and all.
Luckily, your ice cream was mostly salvageable.
The shower was hot. Maybe a bit too hot. Steam cloyed, clouding your periphery and leaving you feeling flushed. You contemplated switching the tap a half an inch toward to the right, but then you risked overshooting and being too cold.
“I’m being called away,” Loki said by way of greeting. He was still a bit damp; his hair had just begun to curl around the ends. The steam, its attention caught by the open door, billowed around him on its escape path. “I was going to tell you earlier, but my brother had other plans.”
“Oh, that’s not fair. Close the door, please?”
“Right. Sorry.” The door slipped shut with a click. Loki hoisted himself onto your bathroom counter, his hands clasped loosely between his knees while he watched you rinse the last suds from your legs. “Believe me, darling, I don’t want to leave you, but it seems that Fury wants my head on a stake.”
“Thor, too. What was that about?”
Loki waved a hand. “Brotherly taunts. Now would you hurry up? I want to ravish you before I’m a decrepit, thank you very much.”
“Give me a minute.” You turned your back to him for a better angle under the shower head. You heard the shower door slide open – you assumed so that Loki could ogle you properly – then startled when his shadow crossed over you.
“Loki!” You shrieked, cringing when wet cotton slid over your belly as he wound his arms around your waist. “You’re fully dressed! You can’t– bad! Naughty!”
“I was already wet. Now I’m warm and wet.” He tsked, rubbing his cheek against the curve of your shoulder with an arrogance only a prince could muster. “I just couldn’t resist.”
“You’re going to regret this.”
“Truthfully, pet, I don’t think I’ve ever felt less remorse in my life.” His wet fingers fumbled with the top button on his shirt. The plastic was slippery and the buttons small, so it took more than a few tries to get the first one out; by the time he had wrenched the third free, he was cursing. “Ok,” he said around a laugh. “Maybe I’m a little remorseful. But this is your fault, let it be known.”
“My fault?”
“Yes.” Two more buttons down. Loki growled, then tore the rest of them out with a firm jerk of the button placket. They scattered, bouncing off the tile with tiny sounds, and Loki struggled to pull the sleeves off his skin. “You’re so beguiling. I’m– I can hardly tear myself away.” He threw the shirt through the open shower doors, then considered his trousers. “Oh, nevermind.” With a flick of his wrist, the last of his clothing melted away. “Why do I even bother, honestly?”
You tipped your head back against the shower wall and hummed, enjoying the simple pleasure of Loki’s nearness. He was a vision under the spray, dark hair plastered and curling over pale skin and pink lips parted, glossy with water. When his fingers crept over your hip to tease the skin under your ribs, your chest soared, the hollow space between your lungs aching ice cold.
(You loved him).
(You promised yourself you would tell him when he returned from whatever mission Fury had assigned, come hell or high water - and you almost believed it.)
When you opened your eyes, you found Loki to be looking at you with the most peculiar hunger. “What?”
“I can’t look at you?”
“I wouldn’t call that ‘looking’. I would say you’re eating me with your eyes.” You rolled your shoulders, then reached around him for the tap. “I’m starting to feel a bit dizzy. Let’s dry off and you can tell me all about why Fury is taking you away from me.”
“You mean you let me suffer through that whole ordeal for naught?”
“I didn’t ask you to climb in here fully clothed. Now– chop chop, loverboy. You’re closest to the towels.”
He left in the early morning. It seemed to take a great deal of physical effort for him to extricate himself from your bed, even greater than it did on Sunday. By the time he had slipped into his last piece of armour, his breath was short and tense, and his mouth turned down in a harsh curve.
“Are you okay, sweetheart? You don’t seem yourself.”
“I’m fine. Just don’t… Just wait for me, okay?”
You were a couple seconds behind, your brain still heavy with the early hour. “What do you mean, honey?”
Loki shook his head. He leaned his weight on the edge of the bed and curled over you, pressing a dry kiss to your cheek. “Don’t worry yourself. Go back to bed.”
“I can help–”
“I have it all under control. I’ll be back in a few days.” He said the last part like he was trying to convince himself more than he was you.
Only three days later and you were going a little stir-crazy. Maybe whatever clinginess-disease he had had rubbed off on you.
You couldn’t take it anymore – you missed your boyfriend. He had been scheduled to return that morning but another impromptu snowstorm had pushed his arrival back by a day, leaving you with an empty afternoon to putter. But once your laundry was done and your shower scrubbed, there wasn’t much left to do besides twiddle your thumbs and marathon episodes of Forensic Files.
You took the elevator to his floor and let yourself in with a spare key. Your shoulders dropped, an unregistered tension draining as you breathed in the familiar smell of Loki’s cologne and lavender incense. There was a certain comfort in the menial reminders of him – his shoes by the door, his coat on the rack. You tossed your keys on the kitchen counter. “So much for man-eating wolves.”
You half expected his fridge to be barren, considering how much time he had spent over the last week in your apartment, but you were pleasantly surprised to find it well stocked – too well stocked. Whatever occasion he was preparing for was unknown to you, but he seemed to be anticipating an apocalypse or city-wide shortage of seasonal fruits and vegetables. You helped yourself to some from a pre-cut container and shuffled toward his bedroom to take a nap.
You stopped dead in your tracks under the threshold.
“You are the pillow thief.”
Fabric was draped languorously from every surface - a stack of quilts over his desk chair, pillowcases folded neatly on his dresser. The curtains were drawn tightly, two or three panels layered on top of each other to block out as much natural light as possible. He appeared to have gathered every pillow in his apartment - and a few of yours - and piled them in a semi-circle against the headboard. A few had fallen to the wayside, at the foot of the bed or scattered across the carpet, and a great spread of throw blankets was draped across the comforter. You could just make out the corner of one of your t-shirts peeking out from his pillows.
There was a decidedly two person-sized divot in the centre of it all, like you were meant to burrow in together.
“What have you been up to, my darling boy?”
You crawled across the covers and peeled them back, layer by layer. More of your shirts tumbled out, as well as a hoodie and a cashmere scarf. It was bewildering to say the least, but not entirely out of the norm for Loki. (He once spent two weeks meticulously replacing all of your cutlery with a mismatched charity shop set, so what was a little blanket theft, really?) You just couldn’t quite put your finger on why he had chosen this prank, nor why he would bother to build a veritable nest out of his spoils.
Tired and more than a little giggly, you tucked yourself between two comforters and curled up on your side. You’d have to ask him when he got home.
(In his defense, it was really comfy).
You blinked awake to the sound of your phone vibrating. It took you a moment to find it among the layers of blankets and pillows but eventually you wrenched it free and swiped accept. “Hello?”
Loki’s voice carried through the little speaker. “Where are you? You’re not in your apartment.”
You rubbed the sleep out of your eyes. “That’s because I’m in yours.”
There was a long, drawn out silence. Then, “you’re what?”
“I’m in your apartment. Which– you have so much explaining to do.” You pushed yourself out of his bed. Through the phone, you heard FRIDAY greet him and a familiar jingle when Loki punched the button for his floor.
“I… You weren’t supposed to see that.”
You laughed. You could hear him struggling to find his keys, his anxiety palpable even through the phone. “Loki, was this some sort of prank to keep me from refusing to sleep over?”
“No, it…” His keys ground in the lock. “It was…”
You pulled the door open for him. He blinked owlishly at you, his phone pinched between his shoulder and his cheek.
“Hi,” you said, and your voice echoed through his phone.
He ended the call. “Hi.”
The two of you walked together, Loki on tentative feet while you guided him, pulling on one of his harness straps until you were through the threshold. His bag slid from his shoulder with a thud; he was still wearing his armour, which you smoothed your fingers under and began to unclasp piece by piece, setting it on the table by the door.
“Loki,” you glanced up at him through your eyelashes. “Do you want to explain the nest in your bedroom?”
His shoulders tensed. “Thor, you bastard.”
You worked one of his leather straps free, tossing it aside. “What?”
“Just - ignore this,” he said. “Go back to your apartment. I have to go kill my brother, and then burn everything I own, and then maybe I’ll be able to scrounge up the dignity to see you before sunrise.”
He made an aborted movement to turn out from your arms, but you reached out with your mind and slid the deadbolt in place before he could slip through the door. “Nuh uh. What does Thor have to do with this? Is this about your fight? I haven’t spoken to him since I ran into you two in the hall.”
“Wait.” It was your turn to face Loki’s ire, it seemed, because he whirled on you, his finger raised accusingly. “How did you know about the nesting then?”
“I was joking.” You pulled the final knife sheath free, leaving him in his leather breastplate and heavy wool trousers. “I mean, you piled all of our collective pillows into a queen-sized bed. Do you mean to tell me you’re actually nesting? Is this another Asgardian courtship thing I should know about?”
“I-” Loki looked like he wanted the ground to swallow him up whole. A familiar curl of self-consciousness had begun to spoil his expression. He turned his cheek and spit out a curse. “Nevermind.”
“Loki, please.”
“It’s nothing.”
“Fine,” you huffed. “If you tell me your secret, I’ll tell you one in return.”
If there was one thing Loki loved more than self-pity, it was being let in on a secret. His eyes bolted up from glaring a hole into the hardwood to catch yours, assessing your deal. “Do not make bets you cannot pay, darling.”
“I already have the perfect secret picked out. Explain.”
He watched you for a long time. Eventually, with a very careful, measured tone, he opened his mouth to speak. “I’ve never… Oh, this is humiliating.” Loki scrubbed his hand through his hair. “Asgardians know very little about Jotun customs. It’s… We didn’t have much need to study them, outside of battle. But it’s common knowledge that frost giants… mate for life. They pick someone to bond with and when they’re serious… In the spring… ”
“Loki,” you cooed. “Humor me.”
He groaned and slunk to his knees before you. His forehead pressed against your hip while both his hands curled around your calves to steady himself. He mumbled something unintelligible against your leg.
You ran your fingers through his hair. “What was that?”
Loki sighed. “When they find a suitable mate they try... I’m… My biology is trying to entice you to tie yourself to me. Forever.”
“So the nesting thing? And the um… the clinginess?”
He toyed with the edge of your t-shirt. “Yes. I… I get quite upset when you don’t respond favorably to my… advances .”
“I picked up on that. Wait,” you pinched the meat of his bicep. “Is this why you’re getting bigger?”
“It appears that my glamours are failing, yes.”
“So what you’re telling me is that you’re growing in some new plumage to woo me with?” You trailed your finger along a featherlight path over his jaw. Lowering your voice, you couldn’t help but tease him a little. “Are you going to sing for me next?”
A scowl twisted his expression into something mean. “You forget who you’re speaking to, mortal.”
His tone did nothing to dissuade you. So rarely were you the one with the power to tease and you intended to take advantage. “Anything else I should know?”
“Well, if I’m already speaking candidly…” It came out bitingly, Loki’s voice laced with a burning mix of self-deprecation and frustration. “I can hardly think about anything else other than bending you over every available piece of furniture and fucking you until one of us passes out.”
“Loki,” you warned as his fingers wormed their way under the waistband of your pants. “We’re finishing this conversation.”
“Later, darling.” He pushed them down an inch and pressed his mouth to your hip. “Let us at least enjoy my biology for a little while.”
“Loki.” The air crackled, seidr whispering across your skin where the two of you connected as he considered testing your resolve. You felt the phantom impression of hands around your wrists, which you shook off with a glare. “Down.”
His lip curled in displeasure but he obeyed, sitting back on his heels. “It’s infuriating. Let’s just pretend it’s not happening.”
You joined him on the floor, drawing your knees up to your chest. “What does it mean to… ‘mate’?”
Loki’s shoulders rounded and bowed; he tilted his face away from you, hiding his expression behind a wall of thick, black hair. “You just… are. You’re partners for life. A family. I’m not sure there are words in any mortal language to explain the breadth of it.” He rubbed a hand over the back of his neck. “It seems my biology has decided that you’re a good match for… that.”
“Loki…”
“I love you.” He said it so plainly, as if he was commenting on the weather. Your heartbeat turned hot and dizzy as you watched his long fingers trace the floorboard, his words rattling around in the space between your ears – I love you, I love you, I love– “I want to spend the rest of my life with you. You’re wearing my ring, and my knives, and my clothes. You smell like me–”
“Wait–”
“I built you a nest. I’m not human. Your priorities are in desperate need of reassessment if that’s the part you’re uncomfortable with.” Loki rolled his eyes, that bit of familiar petulance peeking through his foul mood. “Anyway. It makes sense that my body would choose you. That I would… would want to convince you...”
“You know you don’t have to convince me.”
Loki picked at a knot in the wood, a loathsome smile curling the corners of his mouth. “Oh, but I do.”
You couldn’t bear the distance any longer; you crawled the last couple of feet to wrap your arms around his chest. He tipped into you, pressing his cheek against your shoulder and drawing in a deep, shuddering breath. Yet, despite his pain, a part of you sang as you stroked a line down his cheek. You were loved and in love – what greater joy was there than that?
Not for the first time in your relationship, guilt welled up in your chest. Being in love with Loki felt a little like learning a new language; he was so capricious, so aloof, that you sometimes felt like you were left out of a joke when he teased you, or flirted, or sidled up to touch you. It often wasn’t until afterward that you became aware of the fact that he was being sincere, that his teasing was earnestness wrapped up in a barbed tongue.
His fingers slipped under the hem of your shirt. You might not have always understood his advances, but you would try to. For him, you would always try.
“Is there some sort of ritual involved? Do I have to cover myself in runes or something?”
He shook his head against your chest. “I think it just… happens. I’m not sure. There are very few intricacies about frost giant habits with which I’m familiar. But based on how my body is responding, I would assume it boils down to ravishing you on every surface available to me.”
You hummed. “And what will happen if we ignore it?”
Loki, turned mute by anxiety, drew a line down your arm with his knuckle. Finally, he mumbled, “I’ll be fine. I’ll just be very… sad. For the next few days.”
“Sad?”
“I know logically that you’re not, but it feels… Like you’re rejecting me.”
“And how do you want me to respond?”
He sneered again and ducked his head, dragging a hand over his face frustratedly. “I want you to bare your throat to me.”
You couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled up inside of you. “What?”
The glare Loki shot you was bitterly cold. “Do not pretend that you misheard me.”
“No, no, Loki,” you reached out and twined your fingers together. “I mean, surely there’s more than that, right? You want me to do the same things for you? To- to nest? I’m not going to hunt a stag or something for you but I can definitely, like, go to the butcher and get you a prize cut.”
Loki shook his head. “I just want you to accept. To accept me .”
“And the throat…?”
“I can’t stop thinking about it.”
You ran your finger along the edge of your t-shirt, where it sat snugly against your collarbone, and watched his pupils dilate. Wordlessly you tugged on his hand, drawing it up to your neck, and placed it there loosely. “That’s it?”
His hand tightened, fingernails catching ever so gently against your skin. “You heard the part where I said that frost giants mate for life, yes?”
You nodded. “Mhmm.”
As if possessed, Loki leaned forward to nose at your pulse point. “So you understand that this… this is forever.”
“And ever and ever?”
“Brat.” His teeth scraped across your skin. “I’ve grown tired of this one-sided vulnerability. I believe you promised me a secret, pet.”
“I did.” You took a deep breath. “I love you, too.”
His fingers stilled around your throat. He seemed to not even breathe as he considered your confession. With a calculated effort, Loki peeled his hands off your neck and his voice, deep and rumbling with restraint, cut through the silence. “You should run.”
You blinked. “What?”
“Unless you want me to fuck you here on this cold, hard floor, I suggest that you run back to that pretty little nest I made you.”
A hot flush washed over you, starting in your cheeks and pooling in the pit of your belly. Loki leaned forward and sweetly kissed your collarbone, then reached up and tore your t-shirt down the middle.
“Loki!”
He smiled against your cheek. “I wasn’t joking, my love.” He sat back on his haunches and folded his hands in his lap, his gaze simmering with something molten hot. Though he moved slowly, projecting a characteristic aloofness, you could see the tendons in his neck straining as he worked against instinct to hold still. He grinned, all teeth, and jerked his chin toward his bedroom. “Run.”
You scrambled to your feet. The hardwood was slippery under your socks. You took a couple tentative steps backwards, watching the way Loki’s eyes raked over you like a butcher pulled pork. Your skin buzzed under his gaze as if you were standing under a powerline, electrified by a well of energy crackling overhead.
His control was crumbling by the second. The faucet was leaking– Tony had promised he’d have someone over within the week to fix it – and the water beading on its edge began to sizzle and pop, blinking out of existence in green bursts. The microwave display went black as Loki’s seidr overwhelmed the kitchen’s circuit breaker; the hum of the refrigerator died with it, plunging the room into an unnatural silence, so heavy that you could hear your own breath catching in your chest. Loki shifted his weight to his knees.
Your heart thrilled.
You broke in unison; you started to run at the same time that Loki sprang to his feet. A laugh bubbled up out of your chest; you reached out with your mind and swept the cushions off the couch, pelting Loki with them before he could reach you. He swore, and a tongue of emerald light crackled at your ankles, nearly tripping you. You stumbled but managed to make it over the threshold of his bedroom door. Something collided heavily with the wall behind you, followed by the sound of debris coming loose and littering the floor.
You landed with a bounce in the center of the bed, sending a cascade of pillows tumbling to the ground. Loki appeared moments later, breathing heavily and bracketing the door with his arms. He must have tripped during the chase; dust and bits of drywall covered his left arm. His irises had disappeared, carved to mere slivers by his blown pupils. Your breath caught in your chest when you noticed the line of his cock, hard and wanting, straining against his pants.
You shrugged out of your ruined shirt while Loki stalked across the small bedroom, still dressed for battle. He swatted a discarded pillow out of the air when you used your powers to raise it, then shredded another one in an eruption of light and feathers when you tried to catch him from behind. A low purr rumbled through him, melting into the hum of his seidr as it thrummed through the air.
Sensing he would tear through every scrap of fabric you managed to throw up between yourselves, you yielded slowly, tipping your chin back, drawing his attention to your throat.
Loki’s body hit the bed with a muffled thump. He crawled up the length of you on shaky limbs, pressing a grateful, sloppy kiss to your mouth before moving down to your pulse point. Burying his face there, Loki dropped his full weight on top of you. “You really should not indulge me. I might never let you leave.”
“I’ve always been terrible at saying no to you.”
He laved at a spot on your neck. His hips pinned yours against the mattress, shifting against you aimlessly as his arousal heightened. Experimentally, you pressed your leg into him; a groan tumbled from his mouth before he closed one hand around your thigh and rutted up a little more purposefully. “Love. My little love.”
Loki pushed up to his knees and pulled on the strap holding his breastplate in place. You sat up on one elbow and pinched your bra clasp with the other hand. It had only just come undone when Loki worked his hands under the band and tugged it off of you roughly. You tsked in retaliation, then pulled his armour over his head. Just as soon as it hit the floor, Loki was crawling backwards, sliding his hands down your thighs with a heavy reverence.
Your pyjama pants joined the scattered mix of armour and plainclothes on the floor. Now that you were completely bare, Loki slunk up to admire you, leaving a wet trail of kisses over your body until he reached the thin skin over your pulse. One of his hands pushed your knees apart to draw featherlight circles across your inner thighs.
You tugged on his hair, trying to convince him to lean up and kiss you properly. Loki grumbled but did not concede; his left hand slipped from between your legs and took your wrist, jamming it against the headboard before returning to run circles around your clit. When you pulled, you found your arm immobilized; a tangle of green light pinned it in place above your head.
“Rude,” you gasped. Loki smiled against your neck, dragging his chin through a trail of his own spit.
“Evil,” he agreed.
“Can you at least- at least take your pants off?”
The air shifted; when you glanced down, you were pleased to find that Loki had magically done away with the rest of his clothing, giving you an unobstructed view of his lithe body. You hummed, satisfied, and slid your free hand down his back to palm his ass.
Loki lazily drew his middle two fingers up and down your slit, toying with you in a display of casual dominance. Occasionally he would dip into you, pressing only far enough to leave you wanting before retreating to trace an intricate pattern of knots between your thighs. Despite the hard weight of him, nestled in the cradle of your hips and burning hot with desire, he seemed determined to take his time tangling with you. You rocked your hips, seeking some sort of pressure or friction, and were met with a haughty grin against your breast instead.
You babbled. You begged. The fingers between your thighs patronized you, pressing but never breaching, circling but never stroking.
Finally, though you suspected it was due to his own neediness and not the way you were pleading, he raised his head to kiss you, sliding his tongue, hot and possessive, over yours. Between the teasing pressure at your cunt and the burning weight of his cock against your hip, a desperation paced in the space between your ribs that left you aching, left you wanting. You tugged a little more firmly at your restraint. When that didn’t budge, you worked your free hand under him to run your fingers up and down the underside of his cock.
The bedside lamp buzzed and flared. Loki nipped at your bottom lip. “I’ll take away your other hand if I have to.”
And yet, despite his warning, Loki slid his fingers inside of you, a little deeper, curling slightly, and pressed at that soft spot you needed him to touch. A smug curl of delight rose in your belly, that you could make him so docile with a touch. You closed your hand around his cock and pumped him slowly, testing your sway.
“Pet,” he pleaded. “Just let me take my time with you.”
You bit back a sigh when he sat up, blinking wide cow-eyes down at you with an expression bordering on insecurity. “Please, Loki. My love.”
He choked out a whine. His eyes shut tightly for a heartbeat, eyebrows creased deeply in the middle. Your hand slipped free from the headboard – victory – but before you could really enjoy your freedom, Loki flipped you over on all fours.
“If all it took to domesticate you was a four letter word, I would have said something sooner.” One of his hands came down in a warning tap against the side of your thigh. You gasped out a laugh, turning your cheek to catch a glimpse of him. His fingers were splayed over his eyes, partially obscured by his wild hair, and his mouth had turned up in a grin, his usual cool demeanour betrayed by a giddy kind of anticipation. You pressed back against him. “Is this the part where you fuck me?”
He tugged you upwards, manhandling you onto your knees in front of him. You felt his chest mould to your back as he shuffled closer to slot his cock between your thighs, tauntingly, sliding through slick, heated skin, his cockhead bumping against your clit with every pass when his hips met the plush of your ass. “Oh, I’m not going to fuck you, darling.”
You reached between your legs to guide him inside you, but Loki snatched your hand by the wrist and held it there, so his cock glided just along your fingertips, occasionally catching at your entrance only to pull away at the last second.
“I’m going to lay claim to you. I’m going to breed you,” he panted against the shell of your ear. Your thighs clenched tight when Loki pressed the heel of your hand against the lip of your mound, applying pressure to your aching clit. “I’m going to ply you until you are limp and then I’m going to fill you until you are dripping, understand? I’m going to mark you so thoroughly that you will never be rid of me.”
He pressed even harder, rolling your hand by the wrist. His eyelashes brushed the heated skin of your cheek as he pressed his face to yours, drinking in the closeness of your body. “And when all is said and we’re sated, I’ll make love to you. And that’s a promise.”
Your eyes squeezed shut. You whimpered, your back arching into him while he worked you higher and higher. Loki murmured praise against your skin. “Okay?”
You nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m okay.”
He smiled against your shoulder. “Excellent.”
One of his arms hooked under your breasts, holding you up and flush against his chest. The other tilted your hips back, so you were nearly sat in his lap.
“Can you…” Loki huffed out a laugh against your skin. In a small voice he asked, “Tell me you love me again?”
There was no universe where you could deny him that. “I love you. Loki, I love you. Loki–”
Your eyes squeezed shut as he fed you his cock, inch by delicious inch, until you were fully seated against him. He swore, then growled out another stuttering laugh. A hot breath washed over the shell of your ear as he tucked his chin against your shoulder, and an experimental roll of his hips had you jolting in his arms, your toes curling when he slid over that spongy, sensitive spot inside of you.
“God,” you gasped.
He hummed in agreement, slipping his free hand between your legs to apply a firm pressure to your clit. His head rolled against your shoulder as he started a slow, teasing pace. “Pretty thing,” he cooed.
You felt his eyebrows furrow against your back. His mouth dropped open, panting hot air across your shoulder blades. Your hands shook, fisting in the bedsheets; you felt tears well behind your eyes as sensations overwhelmed you, a bit of pleasure and a bit of pain. You choked out a moan, a gasp, his name cut short.
“Loki. Please. I can’t.”
“You can,” he said against your shoulder. The hand between your legs grew a little desperate, sliding in tight circles while the rest of him worked you at his mercy up and down his cock. “You’re going to be good for me, aren’t you? My pretty little mate,” he continued. “You are, I know you are. You’re going to come for me, and then you’re going to take what I have to give you. You’re going to let your mate fill that little cunt of yours and you’re going to be grateful, hmm?”
You gasped, squeezing your eyes shut. You were teetering on the edge of a knife, a knot in your belly drawn tight but threatening to unravel at any moment. A gasp tore from your chest when Loki changed angles, pulling you down with more force while leveraging his body weight to thrust into your harder. Your head tipped back onto his shoulder and you squealed, one hand flying behind you to anchor yourself against his hip.
“Yes,” Loki gasped. “Yes, that’s it darling.”
Relief washed over you for a heartbeat, a small coil shattered as Loki worked himself into you. You rocked back against him, writhing in his iron grip. The pressure on your clit eased away for a moment before doubling down, his middle two fingers burning molten pleasure in their wake as seidr sparked over your skin from his fingertips. Chasing relief in your body, he mouthed at your shoulder a little mindlessly. Your name tumbled from his lips, a plea, for what you weren’t sure.
Small sounds were punched out of your chest with every thrust, growing in volume as he went on and your body buzzed with overstimulation.
“Please,” you begged. One of your hands curled around his forearm, gripping him tightly, while the other fisted in one of the long-forgotten pillows. “Please. Please, Loki.”
Your legs clamped shut when your orgasm finally crested. Loki swore, tumbling, stuttering to his own edge before plummeting; he tugged you down and held you there, spilling inside you with a shaky groan.
Finally, he lifted you off his lap and slid out of you. You tried to turn over in his arms, but he tipped the two of you onto your sides and held you in an iron grip against his chest. He mumbled something foreign in your ear, intercut by the occasional sigh or a press of his mouth to your sweat-slick skin.
You tried again to turn around but Loki held you still. “Give me a minute,” he panted.
You squirmed. “But I want to kiss you.”
Loki leaned over your shoulder and kissed you, his eyes squeezed shut. Hardly satisfied, you tried to hold him in place, but your exhausted limbs were no match for him; he slunk back out of sight only a moment later.
“Loki,” you whined. His arms tightened.
“I’m not… myself right now.”
Slowly, you rolled over in his arms to face him and soothed your hands up his chest. An attractive flush coloured his pale skin, spreading from the top of his stomach to the highest points of his cheeks. You picked a flake of drywall out of his hair.
His eyes were downcast, shuttered and turned away so you couldn’t see into them. “I don’t want to frighten you,” he mumbled.
You tilted his face up; his eyes had changed, the irises gone red. They weren’t quite gemstones, or cherries, or robins or cardinals. The same red as poppies, maybe. Startling against his pale skin, framed by thick, dark lashes, but so deeply endearing, swimming with emotion as they flickered back and forth over your face.
You must have been quiet too long; Loki huffed and buried his face in his pillow.
“No, wait,” you said. “Come back. Let me look at you.”
“No. I can’t bear it.”
“Stop being dramatic. Let me look at my pretty boyfriend.”
“Your pretty boyfriend is out of commission, I’m afraid.” His voice was muffled. He patted the bed until he found the comforter, which he then pulled over his head petulantly. “He can’t seem to control himself right now. He’ll come out later.”
You wormed your hands under the blanket and pulled it back from his face. Loki sighed and peered up at you from behind his pillow, his eyes barely open to slits to glare at you. You pushed a curl off his forehead, followed by a dry kiss to his cheek. “You know your eyes change colour all the time, right?”
“But the green is handsome. Intimidating,” he grumbled. “This is…”
“Gorgeous.”
“Horrifying,” he countered.
You pouted. “That’s my mate you’re talking about.”
That seemed to break the spell he’d fallen under. You felt the gentle brush of his fingers first, then the smooth slide of his hand down your side to hook around your hip. He drew you into his chest so he could press a sweet kiss to your shoulder. “Hi.”
You returned his smile. “Hi.”
“You’re really not afraid?”
You pushed a stray pillow off the bed, trying and failing to extricate one of the blankets to drape over your bodies. Loki had been right about one thing - it was freakishly cold this week, and the chill was beginning to needle your sweat-damp skin unpleasantly. “Honestly, I’m more worried about the food in your freezer going bad. You blew a fuse in there.”
“Midgardians. You have no sense of self-preservation.” Loki reached out to help tuck you in.
“Mhm… Coming from the guy whose favourite schtick is ‘pretend to grovel until you think up a better plan’.”
“That is, by definition, self-preserving.”
“Whatever. You blew a fuse. And maybe fixed the leak?”
“I also punched a hole through the wall.”
“Tony is gonna be so mad at you.” You scraped your fingernails across Loki’s scalp, drawing a deep rumble from his chest. “Ok, five more minutes and then we need to get cleaned up.”
“I think you’re mistaken, pet. We’re not leaving this bed for the rest of the week.”
You rolled your eyes. “I’m not risking a UTI for that.”
Loki groaned. He pulled his mouth from your neck just long enough to kiss you. “Fine. Shower?”
“Yes, but we’re just showering. I don’t want to get waterboarded like last time.”
“Of course, darling. Not in the shower.” He kissed you again, slowly this time, coaxing your lips apart with a thumb on your jaw. When he finally pulled away it was with a hiss and a sticky, wet sound. “Although I do intend to bend you over the sink so you can watch yourself fall apart first.”
“Oh?”
His red eyes found yours. They narrowed, sparkling with mirth, as he gathered you up in his arms. “Tell me again,” he purred, “how much you love me. I might just have mercy.”
You’re having a crisis trying to pick the perfect moment to tell Loki you love him. Loki is having a crisis, too, except his is decidedly way more embarrassing. Also, your pillows keep disappearing.
(aka - frost giant biology is weird and Loki has to suffer the consequences.)
a companion to Love at First Sight (or should I walk by again?) - can be read on its own!
Chapter 1 / 2 -- read it on AO3 here
Word count: ~5k
Warnings: fem reader; Loki is CLINGY
You could just make out the rosy hue of a late-season snowfall from your vantage point behind the cockpit; it blanketed the city, turning the streets a pale orange where streetlamp light reflected off of a crisp, white coat. For a city that never slept it was strangely quiet; at just past three o’clock in the morning, not even the snow plows were out yet.
Your team was returning from a four day long deployment to San Francisco – a retrieval mission where you were tasked with tracking down and seizing off-world cargo. It had gone over surprisingly well - zero casualties, a handful of actual combat incidents, and a scant few million dollars worth of petty property damage. It did require a proper cargo plane, though, which meant that the team had to rely on a local airplane hangar to get back home.
(Despite his truly unparalleled complaining, Tony’s choice to put the Avengers tower in the centre of a busy New York metropolitan block meant that there were certain restrictions - namely, the laws of physics - that limited the size of plane they could have on-site).
An unfortunate consequence of it all was that you were freezing. You made a face and folded your arms over your chest; you were dressed for a late February chill, in tac-pants and a knit sweater, not a snowstorm. As romantic as the snow looked, the cold was settling over you like an ache and, coupled with the early-hour and a tender bruise on your left side, your mood was only souring. You cast your eyes to the ceiling and prayed that a car was already waiting for you on the tarmac.
The quin-jet touched down a little roughly; you felt Wanda’s wince without looking at her, but Tony immediately came to her defense. “No, that was because of the snow. Poor visibility. Out of your control. Definitely. I’m passing you with flying colours - hey, get it?”
The loading ramp slid open with a pop and a hiss; your ears felt funny now that you were on solid ground, like they were full of cotton. Natasha tugged on her earlobes, then reached over and tugged on Steve’s too to be a pest. He swatted her away with a scowl.
Moments later, attendants began to climb the loading ramp in groups of two. You scowled. They were at least dressed for the weather.
You pulled your hands from between your thighs, trying to focus on anything other than the way your core muscles were tensed against the chill, and thanked whatever powers-that-be that you could finally go home. You were half way through unbuckling your seatbelt when an automated voice warned you from overhead not to leave your seats.
“Sorry, everyone,” Tony called. “Safety or whatever. All cargo has to be removed before we can get up. Just a few minutes. You’ll be warm and in bed in no time.”
You sank low in your seat, arms crossed, and focused very hard on glaring a hole in the quid-jet floor. Who knows -- maybe you could spontaneously develop heat-vision. It would look good on your resume.
“I was beginning to think I’d have to go collect you myself.”
Crossing the jet in long strides, tall enough to peer over most attendants' heads, was Loki. Your boyfriend.
Dressed in civilian clothing, Loki was something resplendent. His pale skin, warmed by the cool twilight haze outside, was a stark relief against his mop of riotous dark curls, and his green eyes caught the light in a mysterious way. A pair of neatly-polished shoes rattled the grated floor as he approached, weaving in between attendants, until he came to a stop at your side. With a wave of his hand, Loki manifested a fine wool cloak to drape over your shoulders. His long fingers drew the golden hook at the collar through its eye and smoothed it flat against your sternum.
“Can’t have you freezing to death,” he murmured.
You thumbed the stitching along the hem of the cloak; the thread was such a dark green that it almost blended in with the black fabric. “I would have been fine.”
“Well, if you’re too warm, I can certainly help cool you down.” Loki slid into the seat next to you and blew an icy breath across your neck, making you shriek. The grin he shot you was lecherous - truly vile , you mumbled - and sent a hot thrill from your nape to the pit of your belly.
“You are evil.”
“You should have me locked up.”
You pulled the collar of his cloak up to your face, pressing the velvety edge to your mouth. “I’m putting in a request immediately.”
Loki offered you his wrists, that sticky grin growing even wider. “Why wait?”
A flash of green seidr crackled suggestively, implying where a set of handcuffs might bind him. Your eyes snapped to the whirlwind of snow outside, cheeks hot.
Tony gagged obnoxiously from the pilot’s seat. The comms system crackled to life overhead. “Get a room, you two.”
Loki scoffed, mock affront dripping from his lazy posture, and poured himself over your shoulders, even though the armrest was in the way and was without a doubt digging into his side. He plucked your hand from your lap, lacing his fingers through yours and drawing it up to his mouth. His lips idly traced the edge of his signet ring on your thumb while you watched the cargo roll by, box by painstaking box.
You had only been dating for a few months, having finally confessed your mutual attraction after a tumultuous, alcohol-fueled evening together. It turned out that the entire time that you had been harbouring a monumental crush on Loki, he’d been just as gone on you - a fact you hadn’t known, since his idea of showing interest was to give you shiny rocks and hand feed you foods, and yours was whatever Tinder had going on.
Once the two of you had gotten over your - admittedly pretty embarrassing - communication barrier, you fell into a nice routine. You found that you were more confident without the weight of an unrequited crush looming over you, and Loki was eons more likely to finish his paperwork as long as you were there to play footsie with him under the table and let him ramble every fifteen minutes. He still flirted with everything that moved, but you recognized the nuances of his affection now. He never touched anyone, but he hung off of you like a limpet; he might smile and schmooze at parties, all lecherous grins and innuendo, but his eyes always sought your approval out after every punchline; and he only ever called you pet.
(And on one occasion, master. But that was a different story.)
Once the attendants had unloaded the last crate into a van, Tony gave everyone the OK to exit the plane without worrying about being trampled. Steve was the first out, blinking sleep out of his eyes. Natasha, Bruce and Tony were quick to follow, all stumbling into the first car they saw, while Wanda stayed and fiddled with a few switches from the co-pilot’s seat. Under Natasha’s suggestion, she was trying to get a proper license to fly - mostly for paperwork-related reasons, because the insurance company charged a fortune every time an Avenger ‘borrowed’ a vehicle without permission.
Before you could protest, Loki scooped up the duffle bag at your feet and started down the loading ramp into the storm, leaving you and Wanda as the last on the plane. You rapped your knuckles against the ceiling and sent her a questioning look. Decked out in her oversized headset and a fuzzy quarter-zip sweater Tony had commissioned for the team, she looked right at home behind the quinjet control panel. She shot you a thumbs up, gesturing for you to go on ahead. You blew her a quick kiss and then hurried after Loki, fighting to keep the cloak shut against the blustering wind.
Wet snow crept under your pant legs, clinging unpleasantly to the strip of skin left exposed by your socks. Loki had already packed your belongings away in the farthest van and was waiting by the back door, held open for you. You jogged - as best you could given the weather - the last couple of feet and slid into the backseat.
Loki hauled himself through the other door a moment later. The driver - a bored looking man with a dark beard and greying temples - pushed the stick shift into gear and turned off the runway.
You shivered, brushing clumps of snow off your ankles. Dark stains were climbing up your shins where the it bled through. Loki leaned across the seat to help you, running a shimmering hand over your shoulders to dry you off.
Mostly satisfied, you sank back and watched the city roll by, the empty streets cast in shades of neon as the snow reflected billboards and store displays. It was a beautiful sight, the kind of morning you would normally want to commit to memory for the postcard-ness of it all – except you were exhausted and a little cranky, so you turned your eyes to stare at your boyfriend instead.
(You made it a full three minutes without looking at him - a new personal record.)
You admired him the way an owner might creep up on a beloved pet in a sunbeam; you didn’t want him to know you were looking, in case he spooked and moved, so you kept your cheek turned and watched from the corner of your eye. He was deep in thought, luckily, which gave you some leeway to admire his profile. There was something decidedly boyish about him when he was relaxed, a softness you so rarely got to see; it made you want to kiss every inch of him just for the sake of kissing.
He drew an aimless pattern with his thumb across your upper thigh. His pinky finger was stretched comically far from the rest of his fingers, as if willing your hand to reach out and intertwine but too stubborn to ask. For a silly, love-sick moment you were overwhelmed by the need to tell him you loved him - and then your brain caught up with your heart and bludgeoned it into submission.
The knowledge that you were in love with him and the nebulous un-knowledge of how he felt about you was starting to wear on your nerves. You understood logically that he liked you - enough to court you, under different circumstances - but what you felt when you looked at him was a hurricane of emotions, a self-sustaining cycle of hot air up and cold air down, whipping the sea so hard that it formed storm clouds unbidden by the laws of nature. You knew that he felt things differently, had lived a dozen of your lifetimes no doubt filled with pretty things. Would this change your relationship? Would you breaking that last barrier make yourself less desirable somehow?
You wanted to tell him. To share the inherent joy of being in love.
It just scared you to death, was all. No big deal.
His mouth twitched; his eyes caught yours in the window’s reflection as the car entered the dark parking garage. “What’s going on in that head of yours?”
“Nothing,” you squeaked. “Just tired. Sorry.”
The car dropped you off in the underground parking of the Avengers’ tower. Yours was the last of the convoy, so you and Loki slipped out of the car into an empty lot where only a few strangler attendants were unloading and taking inventory. You held one corner of the cloak in your hand, worried it would drag through the slush puddles tracked in by the cars. Loki’s hand came to rest on the small of your back while he hoisted your bag over his shoulder.
“After you, pet.”
You led him to the elevators, where you leaned against the railing and let your eyes slip shut. Loki selected a floor and then joined you, draping one arm around your shoulders to draw you into his chest.
You leaned your cheek against him. Now that you were home, the full weight of your exhaustion was bearing down on you. The pattern of knots Loki was drawing across the back of your neck wasn’t helping. You were suddenly grateful for the support of Loki’s body under you, solid and steady; you slid your hands under his jacket to hug him… then paused.
Something was… off.
You pulled back and gave him a once-over. Nothing outwardly betrayed him as different. He wore a pair of simple, straight-leg tac-pants and a white t-shirt under a brown vintage-style bomber he’d no doubt swiped from Bucky or Steve; the cut of each item flattered his narrow build exceedingly, a fact you knew he was aware of by the way he kept glancing at you during your drive home. His hair was wild and unstyled in a hopelessly endearing way - a look he’d taken to wearing often after you made a passing comment about liking it that way.
The jacket though…
He filled it out well. Too well.
“You’re bigger,” you blurted out.
Loki raised one eyebrow in a perfect, mocking arch. “Excuse me?”
“You’re,” you waved your hand up and down his body, “bigger. Like, broader. Have you been working out more?”
Loki glanced down at his chest. “No?”
You pushed the jacket off his shoulders to get a better look at him. The white cotton of his t-shirt puckered across his chest, wrinkling under the strain of an extra inch or so of muscle, and the side seams were pulled so taut that you could see the thread. You poked him right over his heart, admiring a new, plush firmness.
The tips of Loki’s fingers wormed under your shirt. His smile took on a wicked edge as he soaked in the sight of you in front of him. When you shot him a look, he screwed his face up into something resembling innocence. “If you’re going to ogle me like a piece of meat, I think it’s only fair that I get to admire you, too.”
You hummed and slipped his jacket back into place, smoothing your palms down his chest to rest just above his waistband. Loki’s evilness washed away to something sticky sweet; he slid his hand up between your shoulder blades, his fingers splayed wide to admire the shift of your muscles under your skin. His other hand twined with yours to lift your knuckles to his mouth.
The doors slid open on his floor. With a flourish and a fleeting kiss, Loki stooped to collect your bag. His free hand trailed behind him, outstretched for you to take, but you lingered with a smile and a shake of your head.
He came to an abrupt stop under the threshold, his eyebrows drawn together in confusion. He wiggled his fingers, as if you were refusing because you’d missed his offer to hold your hand. “What are you doing?”
You pressed the button for your floor. “I’m going back to my room.”
“No,” Loki whined, his hand still outstretched. “Please, darling.”
You rolled your eyes and attempted to pull your bag from his hands. “I’ll see you in a few hours, Loki.”
“But you’ll miss out on my new, broader body. Your bed will seem extra empty now in comparison. You should just skip the trouble.”
“Loki, I’m tired. And all my stuff is in my apartment.”
“You can wear something of mine.” Loki, exasperated, threw your duffle down in front of the elevator door and cornered you against the railing.
“Just for the night, Loki.” You pressed a chaste kiss to his mouth, one he didn’t return… and then seemed to regret, because only a heartbeat after you pulled away he was on you, cupping your face between both his hands and swiping his tongue across your bottom lip. You huffed out a sigh and pushed on his stomach; he managed to get two more kisses in before you finally won and put some distance between the two of you.
In a perfectly Loki-fashion, Loki sulked. He stomped out of the elevator and then turned to you, his hands firmly on his hips. “You vex me. Understand that I will be taking you out for breakfast tomorrow, no exceptions.”
You hooked a finger through your bag strap, dragging it back into the elevator. “Make it a late lunch. If you wake me before noon there will be punishments.”
Loki’s eyes twitched with the briefest hint of a smirk. His voice dropped an octave. “Promise?”
The elevator doors slid shut on his leering expression. You spent the rest of the ride valiantly trying not to fall asleep. The low hum of its engine was terribly soothing.
When the elevator opened to your floor, you weren’t surprised to find PAL - Tony’s Paperwork Assistant Lite robot, who usually helped organize and retrieve files in the office downstairs - waiting by your door. Measuring just under two feet tall, PAL could navigate the halls and elevator just fine as long as FRIDAY was willing to unlock the doors for him, but your manual lock-and-key front door was an insurmountable obstacle for him.
“How long have you been here, buddy?”
As soon as he recognized you, PAL trilled with delight. His metal chassis vibrated with the effort of waiting by the door. He rounded your feet while you dug through your pants pockets for your keys, narrating the week to you in his language of whistles and beeps, and raised his tiny paper tray, straining to try and take over the weight of your duffle bag. You huffed out a laugh, leaning ever-so-slightly to the side to set it on him but not to smother; the LED display on his face narrowed, as if he was concentrating very hard on not dropping your belongings.
As soon as you were through the door, you threw your bag by your shoe rack and toed off your sneakers, leaving them in a pile on the floor. PAL set to straightening them, sweeping them to the wall with his tray ahead like a snowplow. He tried to do the same to your bag, but his treads could only pinwheel against the weight.
You stood in the living room for a moment and folded Loki’s cloak over the back of your couch, contemplating skipping your whole routine and going straight to bed. You settled on missing a shower but washing your face - everything else could be dealt with in the morning. You made your way to your bedroom in search of clean pyjamas, then continued to the bathroom to brush your teeth, PAL close on your heels.
You had just exited the bathroom when someone knocked on your door. You tossed your washcloth into a bin on top of your washing machine and rounded the hallway to answer it.
Loki stood on the other side, dressed in a pair of black sweatpants and an oversized AVENGERS TACTICAL UNIT t-shirt. “Please, darling.”
“You have your own bed.”
“It’s too big without you.”
“You’re even bigger now. You’ll fill it out just fine.”
Loki stepped into your personal space; he hadn’t even bothered putting on shoes, wearing only a pair of grey wool socks. His hands curled around your hips as if to steady himself. “I’m afraid of the dark?”
“Try again.”
“My room was taken over by starving wolves while you were away and I only narrowly escaped.”
You sighed. You had to admit that it felt nice to have him in your arms like this, even if you knew giving in would only encourage him to lord over more of your time. “Absolutely no funny business, Loki.”
An incandescent grin split his face in two. He swooped in to kiss your cheek, then sauntered off toward your bedroom. You locked the door, made sure PAL was settled into his charging dock for the night, and then followed after your boyfriend.
You found him curled up on the side of your bed closest to the door, facing you, and holding one of your pillows hostage. He buried his nose in the fabric, a pleased sound rumbling through his chest, and watched you approach.
You swatted at him, not even bothering to round the bed, opting to crawl over his body to reach your side. Loki unfolded, abandoning the pillow to gather you up instead; his arms circled your waist and tugged you into his chest in an awkward collision of limbs, legs tangling in the comforter. You squirmed while he maneuvered you to his liking, tucking the length of his body around you tightly and nosing at the junction of your throat and jaw.
“Loki,” you chided. “I said no funny business.”
“This is a perfectly serious matter.” Loki untangled himself from you just long enough to pull the comforter over your body before sliding in beside you. One hand returned to your neck, tipping your chin back so he could press a loud kiss to your pulse point. “You don’t have enough blankets.
You stifled a yawn and pushed him to lie on his back, draping one leg over his. “Why’s that?”
Loki continued to rearrange the sheets with a scowl. “You’ll freeze to death under this thing.”
Already, your eyelids were heavy with exhaustion. You hummed. “I feel like I had more pillows than this. Maybe I’ve finally lost it.”
A small voice in the back of your mind whispered that you loved him, you loved him, you loved-
You settled with tracing a heart over his collarbone, over and over until you fell asleep.
You woke to the sound of FRIDAY’s voice through the PA system. “Mr. Laufeyson, your presence is being requested on the thirty-first floor. Mission briefing in fifteen minutes.”
You peeled your eyes open. You could tell by the slant of the sun through the curtains that it was past noon - a small victory, really. Behind you, Loki burrowed deeper into the fabric of your t-shirt, nosing along the ladder of your spine while groaning his displeasure. He drew the comforter around you tightly, trapping you under one muscular arm with a vengeance.
His voice, still deep and rasping with the last threads of sleep, rumbled through his chest. “Good morning, dear heart.”
Lovesickness bloomed like a bruise in your chest. “Morning,” you said, instead of I love you.
You half-turned and pecked the side of his mouth before sitting up. Loki made an affronted sound and reeled you back in by a fistful of your t-shirt, sending you sprawling halfway across his chest. He kissed you soundly, licking into your mouth with a low groan.
You blinked up at him once he pulled back. “Um. Good morning?”
“I was a perfect gentleman all night and you reward me with a peck. ” A scowl twisted his pretty face, petulance dripping off him in droves. His hands slid over your ass possessively, kneading the soft flesh with purpose. “I should have you flogged for that. Put over my knee.”
“Patience is a virtue,” you mumbled.
“Wrong faith, pet. Now- wait, where are you going?”
You paused, halfway through peeling yourself out of his arms (again), and pointed at the ceiling where FRIDAY’s voice reminded him that he was needed in thirteen minutes, Mr. Laufeyson . ”You have a debrief and I have a date with my coffee pot.”
“Not after you so callously rejected me. Come down here and make it up to me.”
You rolled your eyes and leaned in to kiss him again, slowly but deeply. Loki chased your mouth when you pulled away, frustration evident in the heavy way he sighed. Lifting you by the hips, Loki deposited you in his lap and held you there, digging his thumbs into the plush of your sides. Using the resulting sigh to his advantage, Loki cradled the back of your head and bullied your lips apart, pulling a sticky kind of want from your chest, leaving you dizzy and aching all at once.
When FRIDAY gave him a five minute warning, blinking the emergency strobe in the corner of your bedroom for good measure, Loki finally drew himself away and let you catch your breath. His head tipped back against the pillow, his throat on display in a long submissive line, and his shiny mouth parted in a groan. He mumbled something in his mother tongue, your name nestled right between lilting consonants.
“What was that?”
“Nothing important.”
“One day you’ll teach me what you’re saying,” you grumbled. “And then I’ll know all your secrets.”
Loki lazily arched one brow, smothered behind a curtain of riotous curls. “Is that so? All of them?”
“Mhm. All of it. Every last one.”
You traced a finger down the line of his nose. If ever there was a moment to tell him you loved him, now was probably it. Here, on the laziest of saccharine mornings, while the city outside was muted by a thick wall of snow and you were both ignoring responsibility to enjoy the other. And yet– doubt wove its way through your ribs, tying knots in the hollow spaces in your chest; you rolled off of him and sat up, pulling the hem of your shirt down where it had ridden up. “FRIDAY is going to bring the appliances to life if you don’t leave soon.”
Loki poised himself on the edge of your bed and snagged your wrist when you rounded it. There was nothing to the gesture – no comment, no complaint to make. He held onto you for the simple joy of owning a second of your time.
As if one cue, PAL rolled through your bedroom door, his little paper tray aloft. He chirped in greeting, then ran head-long into one of the bed frame’s legs.
You tamped down a lingering disappointment. Later. You would tell him later.
“Pest.” Loki swatted at PAL, who had taken to repeatedly bumping into Loki’s shins to convince him to get dressed. You gasped scoldingly when Loki shot a warning green spark in the robot’s direction; PAL, undeterred, narrowed the LED display on his face and wound up, knocking the god extra hard for good measure.
“PAL, go sit in the living room. You can pick something on Netflix for us to watch. And you,” you pointed a finger at Loki. “No threatening the robot.”
You left him to dig through your closet for something to wear; the far corner was steadily developing a growth of black, Loki-sized clothing. While you busied yourself with the coffee machine, PAL chirped at the TV and then parked himself in front of your window with his face pressed against the glass. Once your coffee was poured, you left out the gaudiest mug you owned – chipped, declaring you were Thor’s Number One Fan!, which Loki hated with a burning passion – and a spoon for when he joined you.
PAL beeped distractedly when you joined him by the window; there was a tender tilt to his little head as he gazed out, studying a pair of birds who had built their nest just below. His body shuddered, as if sighing, and his LED display blinked one long, slow blink.
It started as a tiny bundle of twigs a few weeks ago, trembling in the wind but shielded from the elements in the nook between a metal support beam and the windowsill. Then a few pieces of long grass were woven in, and a handful of fresh green branches, still flexible in their newness. They must have finished their home while you were away; two mates were deep under the spell of a snowy Sunday morning, bundled up under a layer of down and straw.
A solid pair of arms wound around your waist, drawing you backwards into an equally solid chest. Loki’s hair was damp where he’d run wet fingers through it, no doubt trying to contain the curling mess of bed head he woke up with every morning. It clung to your cheek a bit, the crown of his head pressed up to your face while he nosed at your shoulder. “Oh, hi– hello.”
“I don’t want to go,” Loki whined. He rocked you gently from side to side, resting his cheek against yours. “We should feign illness. It’s dreadfully contagious. And then we can—” a kiss, just under your ear, “stay in bed all day. To recuperate, of course.”
“As lovely as that sounds, you really do have to go. You know how Steve gets when you’re late.”
“As soon as I can I’m coming right back up here to ravish you. That’s a promise.”
PAL cooed, excited by some small movement from the birds. One of them had woken to preen the other, sweetly running its beak through its feathers.
“Look at their little nest. How cozy,” you said quietly. “Maybe that’s where my pillows went.”
The longer Loki considered the birds, the deeper the furrow between his brows grew. He seemed to be having a revelation of some kind. “I… have to speak with my brother about something.”
“Something wrong?”
“No. Just a thought. Don’t worry.”
PAL rolled backwards into Loki’s shins with purpose. He chirped sternly, as if chiding Loki in his machine-speak, who, in return, toed PAL’s chassis very gently in warning.
You laughed. “He’s coming, buddy.”
“Actually,” Loki muttered darkly. “On the contrary. My problem is that I’m not-”. You suspected the next words out of his mouth would have been incredibly inappropriate, had PAL not rolled pointedly over Loki’s foot.
You exited the elevator on the 31st floor a few hours later. A far cry from Tony’s party, the room was empty and mostly tucked away; chairs were stacked on tables and the bar was cleared of bottles; bright, unfiltered sunlight poured through the enormous lofted windows, allowing you an unobstructed view of the skyline and the meandering streets below. A couple of interns were having lunch on one of the couches in the corner. They must have been part of the newest wave of college recruits, because their eyes lingered in a starstruck kind of way that made you feel a little embarrassed.
You shot them a playful salute. Both startled, turning away in a rush.
Oh well. You couldn’t look Steve in the eyes for your first week on the team– you got it.
You found Loki in the farthest conference room, sat at the end of a long, round table between Steve and Bucky. You watched their fingers walk across its surface, handing a piece of folded paper between the three of them. Steve wrote something while the speaker was turned, then slipped his hand surreptitiously under the desk. Bucky coughed; from your vantage point, you saw his and Loki’s fingers unravel the note so they could read it discreetly.
Some executive droned at the other end, gesturing to a dreadfully laid out powerpoint. Matching manilla folders were spread open in front of the agents; you had a sneaking suspicion that whatever the speaker was saying was also written down and could have been read in half the time this meeting took.
You tried to catch Loki’s eye through the window but his attention was aimless, lost in some faraway place. A thought came to you; you rearranged your belongings to clasp your hands in front of you. Squeezing your eyes shut, you prayed - albeit poorly - to the god sitting a few dozen feet from you.
You peeked through one eye to see if it had worked; through the glass, Loki shot you a private smile, so sweet that it was practically a kiss. You waved him over, jerking your head toward the conference room door.
You watched him interrupt the speaker, his lazy posture rolling forward until he was sitting straight. Steve and Bucky nodded sagely, immediately following whatever story Loki had spun. Bucky pointed exaggeratedly to his metal arm, rubbing it as if it was tense.
The door opened and Loki slipped out into the hallway to meet you. Your grin bordered on becoming painful. Both your hands were folded behind your back. “You didn’t have breakfast this morning.”
“Observant.” He plucked a loose thread from the collar of your shirt and flicked it aside before leaning in for a quick kiss. You decided, even if you couldn’t say you love him, to treat him no less lovingly; you chased him when he pulled away, pressing your lips to his jaw. His grin was dazed, like you’d turned him dumb with the simple act of wanting him. “You’re even lovelier than the last time I saw you.
“I brought you something. Pick a hand.”
Loki walked his fingers down your left arm and pulled; you let him have it, your palm open – and empty. “Oh, that’s too bad.”
“Hmm. Terrible luck.” His knuckles dragged down the length of your other arm. In that hand was a take-out container from your favourite coffee shop, defaced with a smiley-face and cute message from the barista, Yvonne. It was his usual order, nothing special, but when his eyes tipped up to meet yours, there was something uncharacteristically open about his expression, a shy edge to the tilt of his smile. He leaned in and kissed you, soft and sweet like honey. “Do you think they’ll notice if I’m gone much longer?”
“Absolutely.”
Loki groaned, tipping your hips until they were flush to his. He kissed you hard enough to bend you backwards.
“I’ll come by your apartment tonight and we can get dinner?”
His fingers stilled where they were kneading your sides. “Yes, about that. Let’s… Let’s stay at yours tonight. The wolves that chased me out last night haven’t been evicted yet.”
Loki's answer confused you – he’d spent the entire night complaining that you wouldn’t go back to his room, then insulting your blanket choices, and now he wanted to stay at yours? “Ok. That works. Is everything okay?”
“Fine,” he said quickly. “Perfectly fine. You’re so tired though. Easier to stay where your belongings are. I won’t– won’t make you commute.”
You eyed him suspiciously. “Behave today.”
Another groan, this one pitched low; Loki traced your cheek with his nose. “I love it when you order me around.”
“Loki! Be-have.”
“Just one more, nymph. To tide me over.”
You sent him off with three more kisses. You were starting to wonder if you were too lenient with him; he delighted in taking advantage of your weakness to weasel more affection out of you. He returned to the conference room with his little box, opened in his lap under the table. When Bucky made to swipe a grape, Loki flicked his hand away with a glare.
When you returned to your room that evening, with Loki hot on your heels and his hands already halfway up your shirt, you were baffled to find your bed down one more pillow.
“PAL, did you do this?”
He shook his little head, LED screen blinking wide doe eyes up at you. It was the strangest thing, but when he thought you weren’t looking, you could have sworn that he shot Loki a pointed look.
Everyone keeps pointing out the fact that Loki can't keep his hands off of you - but that's just the kind of guy he is, right?
Right...?
(Or: the one where Loki keeps giving you mixed signals and you decide to take matters into your own hands. To mixed results.)
Chapter 1 / 2
to read on AO3, click here
The office was empty and drearily dark; the sun had only barely crossed the horizon, bathing the 27th floor of the Avengers Tower in a deep purple haze. The early morning silence was tempered only by the sound of rain pattering against the window and the occasional rumble of the metro a couple blocks away. It was the kind of morning best enjoyed in bed under a mountain of blankets - not filling out cost-analysis reports.
Fury had had you out in the field for three weeks straight on consecutive missions, meaning you had returned home - bruised, exhausted, dreaming of clean sheets and hours of mindless television - to a veritable mountain of paperwork. Paperwork that you probably could have finished by now - or, at least, made way more progress on - if it weren’t for your resident distraction-on-legs.
Loki rearranged himself in the seat across from you; the toe of one of his meticulously polished shoes bumped against your sneaker, bullying its way between your feet to hook around your ankle. Your desk lamp cast a warm golden glow across his cheeks, accentuating the long line of his nose and the narrow cut of his jaw. His hair, usually so meticulously styled, was loose and curling wildly.
You signed off on the file in front of you, pointedly ignoring the warm flush that crept along the back of your neck, and added it to the mounting pile to your left.
Not twenty minutes after you’d settled in at your desk, Loki had strolled out of the elevators into the office. With all the magnificent theatrics he could muster, he’d thrown himself into the chair opposite yours - his chair - and plucked up the paperback he’d left dogeared a fortnight ago.
(Loki had a desk, kitty-corner to yours in the Avengers semi-circle. He seemed to prefer to sit at yours and complain about the lack of space.)
Not that it mattered where he sat. Your eyes seemed intrinsically magnetized to him; to the dark curls that brushed his jaw; to the way his eyes crinkled when he laughed. You could spend hours watching the meticulous flick of his wrist when he crossed his t’ s, or the way his fingers deftly rolled his cufflinks free to turn his sleeves up.
Or, like you were doing right now; your pen hovered lamely over your paper while you admired him through the fan of your eyelashes, fixated on the way his index finger and thumb rolled the corner of one page as he read.
“Particularly interested in fourteenth-century extraterrestrial poetry, are we?” Loki intoned. Your eyes darted up to find that his were already on you, watching with a peculiar expression. It was easy to forget, sometimes, that he wasn’t human, but up this close there was a preternatural edge in his eyes that pinned you in place.
“No,” You replied quickly. Flustered, you flipped a random dossier open and scanned it over, adding the appropriate signature on every other page. Loki’s eyes burned a hole in the side of your face - you could practically feel the patronizing arch of his brow. “Just tired. Zoning out. You know. What was the name of the knife you let me borrow?”
“Earthbreaker.”
“Right, thank you.” You jotted the name down under Resources Returned With. It was the only weapon you’d not lost in Shanghai; all your other daggers and close-combat tools had been dissolved by an alien gunk that ate through Earthly metals like sugar in water. Loki had sliced the offending creature’s head clean off its shoulders before flipping the knife around to you, hilt-first.
You did not, however, mention the pocketful of extra-terrestrial stones Loki had shared with you after the fact - but you knew from experience that Finance didn’t care about Loki’s magpie-like tendencies.
( These were very rare on Asgard. Courtiers sometimes sewed them into their sleeves as symbols of status.
They’re beautiful.
Yes, he’d agreed. But I think they’d look better against your arm, no?)
You finished off a comment on page seven and tucked your report into the Shanghai, Domestic (Earth) Threat folder. Despite Tony’s seemingly endless pockets, the Avengers finance department was meticulous about tracking your spending, which required an extreme detail when justifying any and all decisions made out in the field.
(It probably had something to do with the Berlin Incident, where a stray explosive arrow and a couple hundred tons of Hulk had cost Stark Enterprises a few hundred million dollars. Which, you would like to remind everyone, was not your fault. You were off a few blocks away wrestling mutant bat-dog-horses away from some celestial object intent on challenging Thor for his hammer.)
Loki materialized something out of thin air and slipped it between the pages of his book. “I think a break is in order, pet.”
“It’s only been forty-five minutes.”
He flicked an errant curl out of his eyes while leveling you with a truly magnificent pout. “Forty-five agonizing minutes.”
“You haven’t even done anything today.”
“I’ve been keeping you company. It’s exhausting work. Really - I have a sudden appreciation for the court jesters back home.”
“Well your jester routine could use some work.”
Loki gasped. “I’ll have you know I am a wonderful jester.”
With a syrupy petulance, Loki plucked the folder from your hands and handed it off to the little robot Tony had assigned to the bullpen - the Paperwork Assistant Lite, or PAL for short. PAL shot off with a chirp, zipping on his tiny treads, the security badge on his chassis swinging merrily behind him.
You tried to tug your foot away in retaliation but Loki was faster. His other foot slid along the side of your shoe until your ankle was trapped between both of his. You twisted in his grip but with a quick yank Loki had you teetering on the edge of your seat. He leaned across the desk and bracketed your forearms with his. “Yield.”
You blew out a breath and screwed your face up in mock defiance. “No.”
“Do not force my hand, mortal.” His eyes shone a brilliant green and a crackling bolt of seidr whispered across your wrists warningly. He plucked your pen from your hand and tossed it aside carelessly. “Yield.”
“You’ll run out of things to throw eventually.” You swatted ineffectually at his calf with your other foot.
“And when that happens, it will be you I put over my shoulder.”
He caught your chin between his thumb and forefinger. You could hear the storm outside swelling; the rain was deafening, the wind rattling the glass in its frame. The desk groaned under his weight as he leaned in just a hair closer. Your breath caught in your chest as his mouth parted, lips shiny where he’d chewed them in contemplation. “You’ll yield one day, pet.”
The train rumbled along in the distance.
Twenty-seven stories below, a car horn blared.
Your pinky brushed the inside seam of Loki’s sleeve, and the whisper of skin on wool seemed deafening.
Loki fell back in his seat with a shove and loosened his grip. He slipped his hands in his pockets and shrugged. “What if I promise to leave you alone. On the condition that you let me buy you breakfast.”
You blinked at him. “Alone-alone? Or ‘alone for ten minutes before you blow up the coffee machine’ alone?”
He nodded grimly. “Alone-alone.”
You sank back in your chair. There was a mischievous glint in his eyes that the smarter, more sensible part of your brain cautioned you about. When you didn’t immediately respond, he offered his hand and wiggled his fingers enticingly.
“Fine.” As soon as you acquiesced, Loki unfolded from his chair and rounded the desk. He had already pulled your jacket off the back of your chair in the time it took you to locate your security badge and was holding it out for you. He helped you slip your arms in and straightened the collar so it lay flat across your shoulders. “But I fully intend on eating you out of house and home.”
He grinned. “Only the best for my little mortal.”
Loki stood at mock attention, his body ramrod straight but eyes slitted rebelliously, and offered you his arm. You rolled your eyes but did not deny yourself the luxury of folding your hands over his bicep.
Sleepy beams of sunlight filtered through the gaps between high-rises, drowned out by sheets of rain. The first few commuters were filtering along the sidewalk, heads bowed and shoulders up to block out the chill. Loki magiced an umbrella from nowhere and drew you in tightly. The cover it provided was cramped, giving you an excuse to tuck into his side.
The two of you made the three-block journey to your usual coffee shop in companionable silence. It wasn’t until he had deposited you safely under the store’s awning that he dropped your arm, only to usher you inside with a hand on your back.
The shop was a hole-in-the wall, the kind of place without any seating except for a few mismatched tables in the back. Narrow enough that you could almost touch either wall if you stretched hard enough. But the coffee was good and the food even better, and on freezing mornings like this it was a welcome distraction from the sharp cold outside.
Your usual barista, Yvonne, barely glanced up when you entered. Her dark eyes flickered knowingly between the two of you, lingering on the casual way Loki thumbed the seam of your coat sleeve.
“Morning,” She pulled open the pastry display and piled an assortment into a paper bag for you. “Coffee will be just a second. You want to try something new today?”
Loki was already nodding, sliding a stack of bills across the laminated countertop. To you, he said: “pick whatever you want, pet,” and then slipped to the end of the bar to wait for your drinks.
Yvonne dipped into the kitchen before returning with a little plastic container. “It’s a new recipe but we’re not sure if we’re going to sell it yet. Let me know what you think.”
You smiled and accepted the box, along with a paper bag containing your usual orders - a bagel for you and a couple of honeyed pastries for Loki. You and Loki were the only patrons in the shop, so you didn’t feel too bad lingering at the register. Yvonne leaned her forearms on the counter and poked your forearm. “So how’s it going with… you know.”
You took a forlorn bite of your bagel and cast your eyes to the end of the bar. Loki was chatting with the other barista, leaning over the counter to whisper something conspiratorially to her. She hung off of every word which, how could you blame her. He was, after all, charming and handsome and princely and a notorious flirt.
It was no secret that Loki thrived off of attention. When he had first arrived in his brother’s tow he’d been nothing but easy grins, sandwiched between Thor and Banner. It only took a week before Loki was grudgingly accepted after helping to stop the Bad Guy of the Week in a fishing town in New Brunswick, Canada and saving Natasha’s life, and it only took a year and another brush with near-death - which involved Loki using his seidr to literally hold Steve’s insides inside - for him to gain some leeway among the team.
Which he abused immediately.
He was a terror. He was unpredictable, constantly underfoot, and he and Thor spent just as much time brothers-in-arms as they did at eachothers’ throats. He flirted his way out of most scrapes and connived his way out of the rest. Meaning - he absolutely thrived.
You had all come to rely on having him in your back pocket for missions. He was a great strategist and an even better fighter - even if he gave Tony a run for his money in the obnoxiousness department.
And you liked him. You really liked him - liked his company, liked his dry sense of humor. You liked the way your stomach swooped every time you heard his voice from around the corner, and how your heart clenched whenever he shot you a private smile during briefings. He was a great sparring partner and he seemed to have a sixth sense for when you needed a pep talk. But his attention never settled on you the way it did on marks or pretty secretaries or baristas.
A larger-than-insignificant part of you understood that what Loki liked about you was how your focus never waned. He liked the attention - for his little mortal to fawn over him.
You’d thought he’d been interested at first, in the week after he’d saved Natasha.
The touching.
The pet names.
And then months went by and you watched him flirt with anything that breathed. And, on one occasion, something that didn’t.
“I still think he likes you,” Yvonne said. “He practically hangs off of you. Like one of those little baby sloths in a Dodo video.”
“That’s just Loki,” you said around a mouthful of bread. You’d confided in her a few weeks prior about your little crush in a moment of weakness and she, like Natasha, had taken to the cause like a dog to a bone. “He’s like that with everyone. I mean - look at him. He doesn’t really like me like that.”
The doorbell chimed, and Yvonne pushed away with a dramatic sigh. “He’s an ass then. Not worth it.”
“Who’s not worth what?” Loki sidled up beside you, coffee cups balanced in either hand. Yvonne shot you a look and waved the question away. You said a hurried goodbye and let Loki corral you into the deluge outside.
Heavy droplets of rain battered the pavement. Cars trudged along through broad trenches of water. Sliding his arm around your waist, Loki steered the two of you back the way you came. He held you tightly against his side to keep you both under the umbrella, so that your hips bumped with every other step and you could feel the heat coming off his coffee cup at your elbow. You took a sip of your own drink to distract yourself.
“Oh, I think you gave me your drink by mistake.” You pulled the cup away to check the label. Instead of an order, you found a ten-digit phone number scrawled in thick black marker.
“Terribly sorry, pet.” You didn’t miss how Loki’s grip tightened on your forearm when you strayed a little too far from the umbrella. He swapped your drinks, then made a disinterested noise. “I have to admire her bravery. I mean, it was clearly a stupid decision, but brave none the less.”
“Oh, be nice. The poor girl can’t help being charmed by your wiles.”
“I am devilishly charming, aren’t I?” Loki jostled you with his shoulder. You swallowed a sigh when he turned his nose into your cheek, his hot breath fanning over your jaw. “But I’m clearly not interested.”
“Loki,” you chided. “Your idea of clearly not interested is most peoples’ ‘oh god take me now’.”
“Preposterous. On Asgard we took courtship incredibly seriously. There were steps involved. A whole process. That,” he waved his hand, “was merely my enchanting nature.”
You rolled your eyes. “Jane told me that Thor offered her the head of a robot overlord he took down in Brazil.”
Loki pulled you to a stop to wait for the crosswalk sign to turn. “It likely would have been a stag on Asgard. Thor made do with what he could. Though I always imagined myself offering up a manticore, personally. Maybe a giant serpent.”
You hummed. “What a romantic.”
Loki shot you a curious look. “I spent much of my boyhood imagining how I might court my future mate. The gifts. The parties. I always imagined a woman at the edge of a dancefloor, how I might ask her to dance. She’d be dressed in my colours in a public declaration. Covered in gold. My sword at her hip…”
The crosswalk chirped. Loki drew you along, finishing lamely: “So no. That’s not ‘interested’.”
The rain was coming down harder, whipped up by the wind so it blew directly in your faces. A bead of water slid down your cheek; the umbrella only covered so much, and dark splotches were beginning to pepper the shoulders of your jackets and creep up the hem of your pants. A chill had settled over your skin unpleasantly… yet you couldn’t help but groan as you rounded the corner and the crisp steel contours of the Avengers tower melted into view.
Loki glanced over his shoulder, a boyish grin tilting his lips upwards. A few damp curls clung to the column of his throat. “Tell you what, pet. Why don’t I practice my court jester routine a little longer?”
Loki crowded you against the side of the Avengers tower, shielding you from the worst of the storm. He launched into regaling you about the book he was reading - a collection of alien poetry from sometime around Earth’s 14th century, found in one of Tony’s art collections gathering dust. ( We called them engagements on Asgard. Because suitors would often ‘forget’ them in their intendeds’ parlors as an excuse to return later. ) All the while, he drew the plastic container Yvonne had given you from your paper bag and pried the lid off. Inside was a collection of small pastries with cracked sugar shells on top - profiteroles, you thought. Loki plucked one and gestured with it wildly to emphasize his point, nearly upturning the entire box in his enthusiasm.
“Okay, that’s enough.” You took the container from him and held it securely in your free hand. “What were you saying?”
“I was quoting. I said ‘ If love was like an ocean, then mine was like a well.’”
“Deep and drinkable?”
“Hand-dug.” Loki popped the sweet in his mouth. His eyebrows rose comically. “That’s good. That’s very good,” he said around a mouthful.
You hummed and held out your coffee so you could try. Instead, Loki took another one out and held it up to your mouth.
You sputtered out a nervous laugh. “What? No, take my coffee.”
Loki tsked and prodded your lips with the dessert. He fixed you with a strange look, something coy but serious at the edges. A warm flush rose along the back of your neck under his scrutiny, growing so unbearable by the second that eventually you opened your mouth and let him place the treat between your teeth. Sweet cream burst out of crisp, flaky pastry and chips of hard sugar - he was right, it was delicious.
His narrowed eyes shone with mirth. “Good?”
Your breath stuttered when Loki pressed his lips to the pad of his thumb, licking away some sticky residue. His mouth pulled away with a wet peach sort of sound.
Your knuckles brushed the fabric of his shirt, warmed by his skin - a pleasant contrast to the cold, wet city air. You felt his muscles twitch under the barest touch.
His mouth tipped upwards; the back of your hand slid against his abdomen when he leaned his hand against the wall next to your head, dominating your personal space.
In a panic, you blurted out the first thing that came to mind. “Do you have a date for the party tonight?”
“Oh sweetling,” he purred. “I thought you would never ask.”
You grimaced. “Very funny. I thought you would have already asked Emily from Accounting.”
Loki blinked down at you. “What?”
“Emily? Tall, big hair, legs for days?”
“Why would I ever ask her?”
You picked at the label printed on your coffee cup. “I don’t know. I just figured someone like you would…”
“Would…?”
You huffed out a sharp breath and glanced at him from the corner of your eye. A strange expression had crossed his face. You regretted asking at all; it wasn’t like you wanted to know the answer to that question anyway.
“Nevermind. It doesn’t matter. I’m sure you’ll be fending people off left and right anyway.”
Silence settled over the two of you, decidedly less comfortable this time. His hand slipped from the brick wall and into his coat pocket roughly.
“Do you… Do you have a date tonight?”
“No! No, I…” You laughed uncomfortably. “No. No dates right now.”
Loki hummed. The furrow between his brows lessened but only slightly.
You pushed away from the wall a little awkwardly, still balancing the box of profiteroles in your hand. Loki followed a step behind, pulling the door open for you mechanically.
You rode the elevator up in silence.
When you reached the floor for the common office, you found PAL waiting dutifully outside the elevator. His little paper tray bobbed as he spun circles around your feet.
“You are entirely too kind to him,” Loki chided while you cooed down at his adorably square face.
“Maybe he’ll be my date tonight. What do you say, PAL? Want to dance the night away?”
PAL lead the two of you to your desk, where he waited for you to assign him another file. The city was shrouded in a thick grey haze behind the floor-to-ceiling windows and bright, early morning light had flooded the room - a far cry from the intimate room you’d left. You sighed and slunk heavily into your seat.
Loki loitered. He drew the tip of one long finger down the cover of one of your folders, flipping through a quilt of post-it notes. “Ok. I’ll keep my promise and let you work now.”
“Thank you.” Before he could leave you reached out and grabbed his sleeve. He startled, glancing down at your hand before his eyes flickered back up to yours. You rolled the seam of his coat sleeve between your thumb and forefinger, dropping his gaze when it grew too hot. “I’ll see you tonight, yeah?”
Loki hummed. “I’ll be the one in black.”
You couldn’t help but feel like you’d said something wrong. His hand slipped from yours and into his pocket, his little book of poetry tucked under one arm. Your eyes lingered on the elevator doors long after he’d left.
—
You were in the process of deciding between two pairs of shoes when your front door slipped open. Never one for boisterous entrances, Natasha sashayed down your front hall into your living area, shoes and makeup bag clutched in one hand, and made a bee-line for your bathroom. You padded after her, adjusting your glittery skirt as you went.
It had become customary for you and Natasha to get ready together in your apartment, even outside of Official Team Events, so you didn’t bat an eye when she leant her hip against your counter and started pinning her hair out of her face. You hoisted yourself up onto the bathroom counter while she unpacked her tools, idly playing with a tube of toothpaste in companionable silence.
“On a scale of one to ten, how bad is the crisis you’re having?”
“How can you tell I’m having a crisis?”
Natasha waved her hand, as if to say international super spy, duh.
“Like a twelve,” you moaned. “I can’t do this anymore. I just get so… so awkward around him. And he gets off on it, I know he does. He amps it up to a hundred because he knows it makes me uncomfortable.”
Natasha leveled a look at you through the mirror.
“He called Lydia in the mail room ‘Enchantress’ for a week. He calls me his pet. ”
“Some guys are into that.”
You made a face. “He’s not a guy though. He’s a god. How could I ever live up to that.”
You heard the front door open. Wanda had promised to come by once she’d gotten dressed. You called out her name, then returned to your moping.
“He just- ugh - he makes me crazy, you know? I like him so much. I swear if he touches me one more time I’m going to burst into flames. Or cry. Or worse, say something embarrassing. Something needy like ‘I love you please oh please let me have your babies’.” You wailed and buried your face in your hands. “I just need to find a guy to fuck it out of me.”
“If you’re looking for sex, Loki would be more than happy to help you,” Natasha grumbled. “Even if he wasn’t doing the roll-over-and-show-my-belly routine for you - which he absolutely is - he’d jump at the chance to ‘fuck it out of you’ .”
“You are not being helpful at all.” You hopped off the counter and adjusted your skirt. You were beginning to regret your decision, but the dress was a beautiful shade of green that both Wanda and Natasha had cooed at over Facetime a week ago. “I’m serious. I just need some random guy to blow off some steam. Get my mind off of him.”
Natasha tossed her eyeliner pencil in her makeup bag and zipped it shut. “Maybe you’re selling yourself short. Maybe you’re way more of a catch than you think you are.”
“And maybe sleeping with someone who actually wants me will fix my ego problem. Maybe my problem is that I’ve been spending way too much time around super soldiers and GQ models. Someone in my league. Someone totally normal who won’t laugh in my face and pat my head like I’m a horny lap dog.”
Natasha tsked. “It sounds like you’ve already made up your mind. So, what’s the plan? You find some guy, take him home, ride him into the sunset and then… Go on pretending you’re not totally in love with-?”
“Don’t say his name! I’m serious, you’re going to jinx it or something.” You glared at her reflection. “The guy doesn’t matter. In fact, he shouldn’t matter. Someone I have absolutely no interest in, who I can spend one fun night with and then move on from. I just need to regain control over the situation.”
“Mhmm. I just don’t see why Loki’s not an option here. Plug this in for me.” You squawked indignantly while she handed over her curling iron. “Worst case scenario, he’s only ok and you never have to talk about it again. Maybe he has a tail or something. Horns.”
You tried to imagine her head exploding. Or stubbing her toe really hard. Tripping up the stairs. “It’s more complicated than that.”
Natasha hummed. She sorted through the belongings strewn across your bathroom counter mindlessly, straightening out your array of weapons leftover from when you stumbled home in the early morning. One of her manicured fingers traced the edge of an ornate gold knife. Earthbreaker . “Interesting choice for a telekinetic super spy. Abandoning quiet and calculated for something a bit more ostentatious, are we?”
“I’ve been meaning to return that.”
“Return what?” Wanda rounded the corner, a tote bag in one hand and a bottle of wine in another. “Cute dress.”
You smiled. “Thank you. What took you so long?”
“Oh,” Wanda sidled up next to Natasha and began pilfering through her makeup bag. “Nothing, really. I couldn’t decide between this dress or an old red one I found in the back of my closet. I came as fast as I could.”
“No, I mean, I heard the door-”
“She’s going to hook up with a stranger tonight,” Natasha interrupted.
“What? Shit-” Wanda dropped the kohl pencil she was using and licked her thumb, scrubbing at her eyelid. “Wait, why not Loki?”
“I never said I was certain,” you interjected.
“She’s worried he doesn’t feel the same way she does.”
Wanda pouted at her reflection, assessing the symmetry of her eyeliner. “Not to be dramatic but… does it matter? He’d say yes.”
“You don’t know that. Just this morning he turned down a barista when she gave him her phone number.”
“But with a little wine? A little dancing? He looks amazing, by the way, I passed him on my way here.” Wanda turned to face you, leaning her elbows on the counter. “He’ll say yes.”
“Speaking of wine, why don’t I-”
“Worst case scenario he’s only an okay lay. Loki will leap at the chance for a one-night stand. Why would you-”
“I don’t want to just fuck him, okay?” You cried. “I know he’d fuck me. But I want more. ”
You turned on your heel and fled to the kitchen. You had never gotten around to buying wine glasses - something Natasha loved to make fun of you for - so you pulled mugs down at random.
It was only your familiarity with Natasha that tipped you off to the fact that she’d joined you. You avoided her eyes while digging through your cutlery drawer for a corkscrew.
“Babe.” Natasha took you by the shoulders and tipped her head so you were eye level. “Hey. Tell me what the worst-case scenario is.”
You shrugged, a little pathetically. “I don’t know. He’s uncomfortable. Or- or he makes fun of me.”
“He already does that.”
“But not- not like this.” You scrubbed the heel of your palm over your eyes. “I really like him. And I don’t want to lose him as a friend.”
“I think you’re gonna lose him as a friend no matter what if this continues. And I think he likes you a lot more than you think. I- and you can never, ever repeat this - I think he’s a lot more empathetic than he lets on. Hell, his brother has tried to kill him multiple times and they live on the same floor.”
Her thumbs worked in small, soothing circles over your shoulders. You leaned forward to rest your forehead against her chest and sighed. “What if he says no?”
“Just ask him to dance tonight. If he says no then no harm, no foul.” She pushed you back by the shoulders and leveled you a look. “We’re master tacticians. We can seduce that stupid peacock. Now come on, come help me do Wanda’s hair. I curl, you pin.”
You took a deep breath in and held it. On the exhale, you pulled away. “Okay.”
“Okay?”
You gathered up your glasses. Wine bottle in hand, you started to formulate a plan. A strategy. Something Peter might call Operation Get Laid if he didn’t blush every time a kissing scene came on TV.
Love at First Sight (or should I walk by again?) - Part 2
Everyone keeps pointing out the fact that Loki can't keep his hands off of you - but that's just the kind of guy he is, right?
Right...?
(or: Loki's mercurial mood sours, then sweetens. A lot.)
(aka - you bone)
18+ - contains p-in-v smut!!!
Chapter 2 / 2 - to read this on AO3, click here
read chapter 1 here
You had to admit- Tony knew how to throw a party.
The 30-and-31st floors of the Avengers tower served as a multi-purpose room for most of your hosting needs. The elevators opened on the second-floor balcony to a magnificent, lofted room with floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the city. An enormous dance floor thrashed with bodies beneath you, bracketed on either side by plush leather couches, and the best-stocked bar in New York City was tucked under foot, bookended by two enormous winding staircases. The conference hall’s double doors were propped open to allow guests a quieter place to mingle downstairs, and a few hired staff appeared to have commandeered the Avengers-only briefing room to your right for storage.
The team rarely used these floors - you had all agreed that Steve had the nicest couches, because he and Bucky had spent weeks picking up old, overstuffed varieties off of Craigslist, so that was where you all gathered for small get-togethers - but the current crowd would never have fit in their living room.
Hundreds of agents, analysts and office workers swarmed the dance floor. Between Loki’s awkward departure and now, the rain had swollen to a raging thunderstorm that battered the windows fiercely - a deep contrast to the palpable heat inside.
Wanda broke off from your trio in search of Vision while you and Natasha made a bee-line for the bar, arms linked so you wouldn’t get lost in the crush. Tony waved you over from behind the counter, a bottle of what was no doubt an absurdly expensive tequila in hand.
Natasha’s hip bumped against yours. You could feel the knowing look she was shooting you on the side of your face, which you ignored by throwing back a shot. The taste of hot, spicy antiseptic assaulted your senses and you winced, flicking your glass down the bar. “What was that?”
Tony shrugged. “Doesn’t have a name yet. Bad?”
You wiped the back of your hand over your mouth. “It’s alcohol alright.”
“Well, they can’t all be porn stars.” Tony pushed a glass of sprite toward you, which you downed appreciatively. “Anyway, what did you do to Tall, Dark and Heinous over there?”
You glanced in the direction that Tony had nodded. You could just make out the shape of Loki’s shoulders through the writhing crush of bodies between you, unfolded languorously on a couch.
You would have expected him to be surrounded by people; he looked unfairly handsome, even in the dark, and you knew he reveled in attention. You weren’t the only person shooting an appreciative stare. Yet the angry set of his jaw seemed to be repelling any admirers with an impressive force, as if a dark cloud had settled over the corner he occupied.
“Why do you think I did anything?”
Tony and Natasha scoffed at the same time. He scrubbed his hands with a dish towel while fixing you with a truly unimpressed look. “Light of my life. Star in my sky. Have you seen him? He’s three seconds away from going Looney Tunes on you and growing hearts for eyes.”
“Loki would flirt with a paper bag if he thought it would swoon,” you grumbled.
“Yeah, but he’s so… mushy when he talks to you.”
Natasha reached over the counter and rummaged through his bottles. She plucked a jar of maraschino cherries out and pried the lid off. “Seconded. It’s disgusting.”
Tony nodded sagely. “The guy tried to kill me and now I have to watch him read poetry and fetch your drinks.”
“And feed you.”
“ And feed you,” Tony agreed. “And the touching. Why is he so into touching?”
Thor’s deep voice rumbled behind you. “Who is touching who?
“Your brother and our lovely little Avenger here.”
“Ah,” Thor said. “I’m afraid I have been sworn to secrecy on that matter.”
Tony guffawed. “He gag-ordered you?”
Thor nodded grimly. “If I say even a word, you might never see my handsome face again. Although, I’m growing quite tired of my brother’s theatrics. Who knows, I might make a very attractive goat. We won’t know until we find out, will we?”
So Thor opened his mouth. And-
He bleated.
Tony doubled over in raucous giggles while Thor scrubbed a tired hand across his eyes. “Go speak with my brother, please. Put me out of my misery.”
Natasha offered him a sympathetic grimace and held out the jar of cherries. Thor plucked one and popped it in his mouth. “You know,” he said. “On Asgard, that would be tantamount to a proposal of marriage.”
“Maraschino cherries?”
He shrugged, then wrestled the jar out of her hands and took a few more. “Hand-feeding. Courting couples are supposed to spend the first weeks of their betrothal serving each other.”
“Oh really?” Tony poured another drink. “I rest my case.”
Natasha nudged you with her elbow. Now or never, she mouthed.
You plucked Tony’s drink from his hand and threw it back before he could complain. For the owner of the Continental United States’ largest collection of liquors, he had an uncanny ability to make the least-drinkable-drinks you’d ever tasted - but it got the job done. You grimaced, pushed the glass across the counter, and slipped off into the crowd.
You shrugged through the crush of bodies on the dancefloor, throwing a friendly smile to a few of your friends as you passed. The wind picked up the rain, which sliced through the air at a sharp diagonal. A brief flash of lightning illuminated the room, casting a deep, dramatic shadow across Loki’s contemplative expression.
“I’m surprised you’re here all alone.” You had to shout to be heard over the music. “Normally you have a line around the building of people trying to get your attention.”
His eyes slid up to meet yours. He was all sharp edges, even in the dim club lighting. His dark shirt was crisply pressed, suit jacket forgone entirely in favor of a simple waistcoat. Tightly tailored pants accentuated the long line of his spread legs, which you took advantage of, sidling up so your shins touched the edge of his seat. One of Loki’s shoes bumped pointedly against yours.
“I’m afraid I’m not really in the mood for revelry tonight, pet.”
You watched him bring his glass to his mouth and take a long drink. His eyes never once wavered from your face. His head tilted to the side ever so slightly, eyes narrowed as he picked you apart at the seams, thread by painstaking thread.
One of his hands reached out to pinch the hem of your dress. It was short, but not nearly short enough for Tony’s approval ( It’s a party, honey, you can show a bit more leg than that!). Still, when Loki tugged playfully at the edge, you were hyper aware of how little fabric separated you from his prying eyes.
“This is nice,” he murmured. The tips of his fingers traced up the side seam of the dress, trailing along your thigh before settling heavily on your hip. His eyes flickered up to meet yours, though your attention was acutely focused on the lazily arch his thumb was drawing across your lower belly. “Green looks good on you.”
Thunder rumbled outside. You gestured to one of the cufflinks glittering at his wrist. “I don’t think I have to tell you how amazing you look.”
His mouth twitched upwards. “Tell me anyway.”
“Naughty.” Emboldened - in equal parts by Natasha’s pep-talk and the heat of Loki’s fingertips through your dress, you nudged his knee with yours. “Maybe a dance will make you feel better?”
Time was an endless stretch for him, a marathon you could never dream of keeping up with, so where any mortal’s patience might have snapped, where a silence may have grown awkward, eye contact uncomfortable, he simply languished in watching you. You felt a warm sweat begin to gather at the nape of your neck and you tried surreptitiously to wipe your palms off on your skirt. His voice was low. “You’d dance with me?”
You hummed coyly. “I could make an exception for one night, maybe.”
His brows knit together. He rolled the ice cube in his glass with a slow turn of his wrist. “My apologies, pet. I’m not interested in an evening of distraction.”
Your resolve wavered; you swallowed hard. “Please? Just this once? For me?”
Loki laughed dryly. “Not tonight, little one.”
Embarrassment washed down your spine. You stepped out from his legs and folded your hands over your belly. “Oh. Okay. Another time, then.”
“Perhaps.”
“Okay.” Another flash of lightning sliced across the horizon. “Later, then.”
You side-stepped the couch and slipped to the edge of the room. Your knuckles skimmed the fog of body heat that had settled over the glass, collecting condensation in big, fat beads until they grew too heavy and slid to the floor. You sidestepped a giggling couple and swallowed around a steadily growing knot in your throat.
You leaned against one of the balcony’s pillars and took a shaky inhale. For the first time all day, you found yourself hoping Fury’s voice would cut through the loud speaker - for some natural disaster to whisk you away to wrestle monsters or catch space pirates. You would gladly accept the mountain of paperwork that would come along if it meant you didn’t have to stew over the uninterested rumble of Loki’s voice as he tipped his glass back.
And maybe when you returned you could pretend none of this ever happened. You could continue going to Yvonne’s, and listen to Loki wax poetic about stanzas in a language you could never read, and look pointedly away when Loki did finally find a Manticore to slay for some other pretty thing.
Maybe you could ask Fury for a longer assignment in the morning. Maybe there were some kids in New Zealand that needed telepathy training. Maybe Tony was looking into building an apartment tower in Antarctica.
You rose up on your toes to try and spot Natasha’s shock of hair at the bar, but she and Thor had disappeared. Tony would definitely still be there, you supposed, but he had never been very good at giving pick-me-up speeches, and if he caught you slipping away - alone - he’d no doubt have FRIDAY lock your elevator privileges for the night.
“Hey,” a stranger’s voice interjected.
You turned to look at him. He was cute, in a boyish way, with pin-straight red hair that flopped in front of his eyes and a smattering of freckles across the bridge of his nose. He was wearing a dark t-shirt, jeans, and an adorable pair of thick black frames. You thought you recognized him as one of the IT guys from one of the labs downstairs - Justin, maybe? You shot him a quick smile.
“Sorry, I saw you come in and I couldn’t live with myself if I didn’t say hi. I’m Jacob.”
You nodded, offering your name over the din of the crowd.
“You’re an Avenger, right? Crazy impressive.”
“Yeah, it’s an… interesting job.” You pushed away from your pillar. “Not exactly something you submit a resume for. Tony kind of just collects us like strays.”
Jacob laughed - maybe a little too loudly - and nudged your elbow with his. “You’re funny. Hey, before I lose my nerve - would you… would you like to dance?”
You grimaced. “Actually, uh…”
Before you could finish your thought, a tall, sharp figure slunk out of the crowd. Loki’s hand raked through his hair while his upper lip curled with distaste; he sidestepped your would-be suitor and drew you under his arm. “Terribly sorry. I’m afraid her dance card is full for the night.”
“Oh, sorry, man-”
The atmosphere swelled and sizzled. A green whip crack lit up the dark corner of Tony’s party when Loki flicked his wrist dismissively.
You sputtered as Loki frogmarched you toward the dancefloor. “You said you didn’t want to dance.”
He shrugged. “I changed my mind.”
The crowd did not part for either of you; Loki shouldered your way through the winding bodies until he found a space large enough to turn around and face you. His eyebrows were drawn together and his expression wholly unimpressed, and you were halfway to chewing him out before his hand curled around your shoulder and pulled you flush against his chest. Your knees collided with his inelegantly. This close, you could smell his cologne and the faint sweetness of the Asgardian liquor he and his brother were so fond of.
“You ass.” You blinked, mind reeling at the change in Loki’s mood. “Jealous, were we?”
His large hands maneuvered you to his liking, slotting one leg between yours so you were nestled tightly against each other from toe to chest. “I’m a god. What could I possibly be jealous of?” He pressed his forehead to the crown of your head, his face tilted toward yours so his warm breath fanned over your cheek.
It took you both a moment to find a rhythm; a few awkward moments passed where his hands guided your hips against his too forcefully, and your feet stumbled over his, but eventually you leaned into his chest at just the right angle that you could roll against him without tipping over, and his hands found purchase around your waist so he could slide them, hot and consuming, up and down your back.
You turned your face toward his. His head was bowed, eyes drawn to the way your bodies moved against each other. Your stomach swooped like the floor had fallen out from under you when your mouth brushed against his jaw - you were so close, close enough to feel the heat radiating off of him, and you wanted him so badly that you physically ached. Part of you wanted to cry, to beg him to stop toying with you, but a much more vocal part of you wanted to roll over and let him eat you, bones and all.
You swallowed audibly. “Loki…”
He looked up at you expectantly. His eyebrows knit together briefly, something like dread crossing his expression before it smoothed out to cool indifference.
“Hi,” you finished lamely.
His jaw ticked. “Hi.”
You slid one hand up to cup the back of his neck. The other rested dangerously low on his abdomen, admiring the way his muscles shifted as he moved. He hissed out a sharp breath when you scraped your fingernails across the flat plane of his stomach through his shirt. He dragged your hips against his in retaliation, somehow both sweetly and a little mean, and then splayed his fingers out wide so the tips of them just grazed the lowest part of your back. One of his fine leather shoes bullied your feet apart so that he could slide you more securely up his leg, leaving you dangled precariously at his mercy. His open mouth hovered centimeters over the side of your neck, his breath hot and damp on your skin.
A thin sheen of sweat had settled over you. You felt flushed all over, acutely aware of the blazing paths his hand was carving up and down your side. You felt a groan roll through his body when you curled one finger through the gap between his shirt buttons. You pressed a dry kiss to the side of his neck, and the groan gave way to a breathy, broken moan.
“Loki,” you mumbled again.
His cheek dragged against yours; you felt the muscles in his jaw twitch into a smile. “Hi?”
You were quiet. He put enough space between your bodies to look at you. His expression was dark, his irises overwhelmed by a deep well of lust. Your eyes focused on his tongue when it darted out to wet his lips.
“Did you come to me for something specific tonight?” He asked. You nodded, nervous under his heavy gaze. Loki tutted and took your chin between his thumb and forefinger. You watched his resolve harden, his eyes flashing with some unknown emotion under the pulsing club lights. His throat bobbed, and his voice lowered an octave when he next spoke. “Tell me what you need, pet .”
“You.”
“Me? I’m right here.” He grinned that awful, arrogant grin of his. You shoved at his shoulders and he responded by grinding his thigh between yours meanly. His face twisted into a mock pout when you gasped, and he patronizingly petted one large hand over your cheek. “What do you need, hmm? You need someone to just… fuck it out of you?”
His thigh continued to press up against you, knocking you off balance into his chest. Your feet scrambled for purchase against the sticky dancefloor. You nodded against his shoulder and fisted his belt in one hand.
“Words,” he growled. “Be a good girl for me.”
“Yes. Yes, please.”
He sighed into your hair. For a moment he seemed to relax into you, all the meanness washing out of him, replaced by a terrible tenderness. The hand on your cheek grew fond as he traced a slow line across your temple.
“You have no idea how hard it makes me when you speak like that.” He growled, his voice pitched low and rumbling through his chest. “Though I suppose… you will soon enough.”
Calculatedly slow, Loki dipped his head down to press his mouth to your collarbone. You felt the dry brush of his lips, then the flick of his tongue against your skin. His hands found your hips and turned you so your back was against his chest.
“Walk, pet.”
You led him off the dancefloor. FRIDAY let you through one of the concealed exits toward the private elevators, and you and Loki spent an eternity waiting for the elevator to climb to the 30th floor. Your left hand closed around his hip to steady yourself. His right hand drew complicated knots along your elbow.
The elevator doors opened with a ding . The sound of your skirt rustling was deafening in the quiet hallway. You turned toward him awkwardly and watched as he jammed the button for his floor before turning to face you.
As soon as the doors closed, he was on you. His mouth slotted against yours while he backed you against the wall. His tongue slid along the seam of your lips. You must have taken too long to comply, because Loki growled against you, took your jaw between his fingers and pressed , coaxing you to open your mouth. His tongue glided against yours, teasingly at first, then demanding. His other hand moved over your hip to knead the flesh of your ass, then lower to cup the seam where it met your thigh. The tips of his long fingers slipped between your legs, just a scant few centimeters from where you were aching. Tonight, it seemed, there would be no inch of you left untouched. Unconquered.
You whined into his mouth, sliding one hand up the solid planes of his chest before settling in his hair. You used it to leverage yourself closer to him, threading your fingers through tousled curls. He pulled back and hissed, the movement canting his hips against yours. There was no mistaking the heavy weight of him against your belly, hot and hard.
His pointer finger grazed the seat of your underwear, drawing a slow line down your slit. You bit back a whimper, an action that had his hips jerking against you. “Touch me,” he gasped. “Touch me, please.”
You pressed the heel of your hand against the front of his slacks. He swore under his breath and rolled his head forward onto your shoulder. You continued to palm him through the rough cotton material, watching the numbers on the elevator display tick up over his shoulder.
The elevator chimed. The doors slid open with a whisper, inviting you into the hallway of Thor and Loki’s shared floor. The door to Loki’s apartment was to the left, Thor’s to the right.
It seemed to take a great deal of effort for Loki to extricate himself from you. He pressed one last, fleeting kiss to your open mouth and then stepped backwards across the elevator threshold. He closed one hand over the elevator door to block the sensor and, still facing you, leaned over the panel of buttons and pressed your floor.
“Last chance to back out, darling.”
Your hands tightened around the railing at your back. Cool metal soothed your flushed skin. A thrill ran up the length of your body, slithering up your calves, your spine, the nape of your neck. Arousal throbbed between your legs, begging him to come back and continue ravishing you.
He looked only a fraction as ruined as you felt, and you wanted to fix that.
Slowly, achingly slowly, you removed your hand from the rail and offered it to him. He swallowed gravely. His hand accepted yours and drew it up to meet his lips. Even though his head was bowed, his eyes stayed trained on your face - almost predatory.
He stepped out of the elevator threshold and reeled you in, pulling you flush to his front. The doors slid shut with barely a sound.
“Tell me you want this,” he whispered against your mouth. His voice was tinted with desperation. You were keenly aware of the pressure of his warm hands through your dress. “Tell me you want me.”
“I want you.”
Still, his mouth hovered over yours, skin just barely grazing skin. “Again. One more time.”
“Loki,” you whined. “I want you.”
He still didn’t kiss you. He pulled away instead, putting just enough space between the two of you that he could look into your eyes. Something dangerous burned behind them, something that pinned you in place under the weight of it. “Tonight you’re mine, understand? Just give me tonight.”
You took his face between your hands. “I’m yours. Please.”
He smiled, teeth glinting under the fluorescent hallway lights, and then he was tugging you into him and kissing you senseless. His hand was back on your jaw, maneuvering you how he pleased.
You felt the shift in the atmosphere before a wave of shimmering seidr rushed over his door, flinging it wide open. He frogmarched you backwards and then slammed the door shut with another flick of his wrist. He didn’t bother to turn on any lights, guiding you by the thin slivers of moonlight that sliced through his curtains.
You’d been in his apartment a handful of times, mostly to exchange books or drop off paperwork, but never his bedroom. Like Steve and Bucky, Loki had replaced most of the Stark-issued furniture with second-hand antiques. An overstuffed velvet couch; a dark wooden coffee table with curved, talon-like feet; a wall covered from floor to ceiling with paintings of various planetary origins. Tall, sturdy bookshelves were crammed full of books, stacked two-by-two in some rows, and knickknacks - shiny trinkets, jewelry, soapstone carvings.
His bedroom was the same - dark wood and deep jewel tones. He sidled you backwards until your calves hit his bed frame and pushed you into the plush black covers.
He bent over to pull his shoes off and motioned to your dress. “Off.”
You blinked up at him, a little dazed and more than a little distracted as he made quick work of his shoes and socks. He unfolded to his full height and started to work the knot of his tie loose. His eyes shone a brilliant green for a brief heartbeat before the bedside lamp flared to life.
“I gave you clear instructions, mortal,” he growled. His silk tie dangled tauntingly from his long fingers, and you felt the air begin to hum. “Is it a firm hand that you need?”
Hot, wet arousal pooled between your legs. His eyes, inhumanly green, bored into you as he worked one cufflink out of his shirt, flicking it in the direction of his bedside table. While he twisted the other, the smell of ozone settled heavily on your tongue. Crackles of light whispered across your skin. The second cufflink bounced off the wall with a tiny sound, turned deafening in the charged room.
You turned over on the bed so you were balanced on your knees and glanced at him over your shoulder, hoping your expression came off as coy rather than nervous. “Help me?”
He considered you for so long that you thought he was going to refuse. Maybe he would rip the dress down the back. Maybe he would just flip your skirt up and leave it on.
He sighed. Finally, he discarded the tie and reached out to soothe your zipper down. The dress slipped away to pool around your hips. Loki tapped the back of one of your legs, silently asking you to shift your weight so he could slide the material off. It fell with a quiet sound beside his shoes on the floor.
You turned over to face him. The single bed-side lamp was dim but warm, nearly softening the predatory expression on his face. He traced his pointer finger over the curve of your shoulder, sliding inch by painstaking inch toward the strap of your bra before hooking under it. His finger followed the strap before stopping just at the top of one lacy cup. His eyes, back to their normal hue, darted up to yours.
You swallowed audibly, then nodded. You felt the mattress shift as he leaned his weight on one knee between your legs. He tugged the cup down, exposing your breast to the cool air, before replacing it with his palm. He kneaded the soft flesh there, massaging his thumb in small circles over your nipple, and pressed his mouth to its curved side. His teeth sank into your skin before his tongue followed, soothing over the sting before he moved on to suck another mark just above the first. You scraped your fingernails through his hair, caught somewhere between delirium and ecstasy.
“Kiss me,” you gasped. “Please?”
He immediately complied, raising his head to slide his mouth over yours while his hand snaked around your back to undo your bra clasps.
You struggled to undo his waistcoat. With your clasps dealt with, Loki tugged the offending lingerie off and tossed it across the room. His hands replaced yours and tore the silk vest off before deftly unbuttoning his shirt. You had more luck with his pants, pulling his belt from his belt loops easily before working the button and zipper open. Loki bent down just long enough to tear them and his briefs off before he returned, capturing your face between his palms and kissing you soundly.
You sat there, drinking in the closeness of the other, for a long time. It couldn’t have been comfortable for him, curved over you as he was, but the contented little sounds that slipped from his throat whenever his lips connected with yours told you he didn’t mind. One of his hands drifted from your cheek to stroke mindless patterns between your neck and the curve of your elbow. You reciprocated by running your fingernails over his scalp.
Eventually the two of you broke apart. He was something resplendent before you, hair mused and curling, cheeks tinted pink, lips glossy with spit. They curved upwards in a wicked smirk as he sank to his knees before you. Your heart thumped painfully in your chest at the sight, simultaneously thrilled to have so wholly unraveled him but dreading the after, when he would inevitably bore of you without the chase.
“Lovely,” Loki murmured. He pressed a quick kiss to the top of one knee. “My pretty little human.”
He pulled one of your feet into his lap to remove your shoe. Both joined the growing pile of clothing at the foot of his bed.
He sat back on his heels, allowing you an unobstructed view of his naked body. His pale skin shone with a thin sheen of sweat, warmed by a flush that extended halfway down his chest. A thin trail of hair drew the eye from his stomach to his lap, where one hand lazily fisted his cock. His breath came in short, open-mouthed pants as his eyes roamed over you, flickering between your mouth to your breasts to the lace band of your underwear where it peeked out between your legs.
You teasingly dug your toes into the meat of his thigh. He tsked and snapped one hand around your ankle. “Behave,” he warned.
He pressed a chaste kiss to the delicate skin of your calf before leaning forward to slot himself between your knees.
“Hips up for me, love.” He hooked his fingers under your panties and slid them down your legs. His thumb ran slow, lazy circles across the skin of your inner thigh. “Now, do you promise to be a good girl for me?”
Your cunt ached, a sudden emptiness yawning in your belly. You nodded dumbly.
His teeth met the spot where your thigh and hip joined. “Words, mortal. Tell your god that you’ll be good for him.”
“Yes, Loki.”
His mouth slid a hair closer to your cunt. He pressed his tongue flat against your leg and licked a long stripe from mid-thigh to hip before biting down just hard enough to leave an indent.
“Please, Loki. Please, I’ll be good. I’ll be good.”
He cooed condescendingly before tugging you over the edge of the bed. The sudden jolt sent you sprawling flat on your back. Both of your hands fisted in his bedsheets for purchase.
His fingers dug into the meat of your hips and pinned you to the mattress while his shoulders pressed your legs apart. He lowered his face between your thighs and left a trail of loud, wet kisses until he reached your cunt. His teeth left a paling indent in the soft flesh of your thigh before his tongue flattened against you in one broad swipe. Your hips bucked against the iron bracket of his arms. You felt his cheeks tick up in a smile when a particularly sharp flick of his tongue pulled a thready sound from your throat, and then his cheeks hollowed as he wrapped his lips around your clit.
One of his hands reached out to circle your wrist. He placed your hand on the crown of his head and threaded your fingers through his hair. You tugged tentatively at his hair and delighted to discover that Loki was incredibly vocal; low, pleased sounds hummed in his throat with every scrape of your nails, and a particularly hard tug on his hair had him pulling your hips in tight and tilting his head for a better angle at your slit. He pressed wet, open-mouthed kisses to your cunt with his eyes rapturously shut.
Your stomach clenched as a familiar coil of pleasure wound at the base of your spine. Your upper body arched off the mattress, and your free hand came up to curve around Loki’s ornate bed frame to ground yourself. You couldn’t help the gasps that tore from your chest under his care. You sighed his name, a prayer - for mercy or punishment, you weren’t sure - humming in the back of your mind.
His head shot up from between your legs, so abruptly that it jarred you back to Earth. His wide eyes scanned yours before he propped himself up to get his hand between your legs and then he was on you again, sliding his middle finger inside of you and lapping at your clit like a man starved. Your thighs clamped shut around his shoulders, but he pried them apart with a growl, not once letting up. You whined when his finger curled against that soft, sensitive spot inside of you while your hips moved on their own volition.
“That’s it, darling,” he said between sticky slides of his tongue. “Come now. For me, dove.”
Your eyes squeezed shut as pleasure crested and washed over you. You felt him groan against your cunt when you tugged his hair too tightly, but he didn’t let up until you went boneless, spent, at his mercy. His hand slipped out of you and soothed up and down the length of your leg. His cheek tipped to the side to lean against your hip, his eyes dark but crystal clear.
You scratched your nails through his hair lightly. He blinked slowly - contentedly - as he leaned into the touch.
“Come here,” you pleaded weakly. He swiped the back of his hand over his mouth before crawling up the length of your body, pressing the occasional kiss against your skin as he went. You whined when he reached you, already starved of his affection, and pulled him in for a slow, languid kiss. When you finally pulled away, you swept a curl out of his eyes.
He grinned. “Hi.”
“Hi.”
Loki shook his head fondly. “You prayed to me.”
He laughed. He pressed his mouth to the corner of yours, not even a kiss really, and the sheer joy that radiated from the sound made you laugh too. Nevermind the fact that the two of you were naked, that his damp hair stuck to the side of your face, or that his cock pressed heavily against the crook where your thigh met your hip. Any embarrassment washed away when his left hand, elegant and featherlight, drew a languorous line down your neck to your shoulder. You tangled your fingers in his hair and tilted his head to the side to press a small, sweet kiss against his jaw.
Remind me to save that for later, you wanted to say. You let that thought go and continued to kiss along the line of his throat.
He let you love on him for a few long heartbeats, then stood to tower over you. His right hand closed around his cock and ran up the length in slow, lazy pulls. That same odd expression from the party settled over his face, though decidedly softer this time, as he marveled at the little human sprawled in his bed.
“You look magnificent,” he said. And even though he was the God of Lies, and his eyes betrayed him as something predatory, and he had you completely, utterly at his mercy - you believed him.
He tipped his head toward the headboard. You obliged, crawling up the bed so you were lying on your side length-wise with your head against the pillow. He followed, manually turning you on your back so he could hook your legs around his hips. Something deeper than arousal was pooling in your belly, nearly outweighing the near-maniacal need to push him to his back and take him then and there. You urged him closer, palms smoothing up his chest. “What an honour, to be fucked by a god.”
His lips curled upward. He slid a hand over your hip and maneuvered you to his liking. “Yes,” he purred. “Come along, then. Show your god your fealty.”
The blunt head of his cock glided against you. You felt him press teasingly at your entrance, then a firm pressure when he slowly slid in. The hand around your hip tightened as he pulled you in, working slowly until you were fully seated against him, impossibly full.
You dug your fingernails into the soft skin at the base of his stomach, marveling at the way his lithe body curved in repose. A sharp roll of his hips had your head falling back against the pillow, a gasp punched out of you. You heard rather than saw the smirk curving across his face, a proud sound that hissed through his teeth, punctuated by another jerk of his hips against you. You mewled, hands scrabbling, and rolled your hips up to meet him on the next thrust.
He fell into a slow, short rhythm, hardly pulling out before sliding his hips back to meet yours. The hand not on your hip brought one of yours up to his face so he could press two kisses to your palm. The first a brief, chaste brush; and the second hot and open mouthed, the tip of his tongue lightly flicking across the sensitive skin. Any other time and it would have been embarrassing, the kind of trick a schoolboy might play, but the way his eyes glittered left you feeling like a lecher.
You slid your free hand up his chest to his shoulder and tugged him down to you. He went obligingly, curling over your body so your chests brushed. His left hand slipped between the two of you so he could press the pad of his thumb to your overly-sensitive clit, drawing tight circles above where the two of you were joined. The press of it was a bit too firm, almost mean, but you reveled in it. You carded your fingers in his hair and drew his face to your neck.
“Keep - keep doing that,” you gasped. “Just like that, please. God, yes.”
“My sweet girl,” he cooed. His right hand - still holding yours - came up to trace his knuckles down your cheek. His voice had taken on a dangerous edge, something wholly chthonic that had your cunt clenching. “Taking your god so well. How about another prayer, hmm? I can be benevolent for you, dear heart.”
His teeth closed over the delicate skin at your pulse point. His rhythm was faltering, hips jerking a bit too roughly, sliding across that spongy part inside you with a delicious friction. A sharp sound ripped from his throat when you dragged your fingers down his slick nape.
He drew back on his haunches to look at your face. His eyes were wild. Lost as he was to the pleasure he chased in your body, he seemed less concerned with playing human. Sparks of magic glanced off his eyes, so brief they could have been mistaken for tricks of the light, and the smell of ozone settled heavy over the room. The lamp at his bedside flickered, casting long shadows across his handsome face. The coil and snap of his muscles as he drew back and thrust forward betrayed an otherworldly strength, each one punctuated by a rattle of books or trinkets as random bursts of seidr swept them to the floor.
He groaned through gritted teeth. Filthy words - not English, but some other language, too old for any human to know, made of lilting consonants and twisting vowels - tumbled from his mouth. He spoke mostly to himself, pressing each word into your knuckles as he continued to kiss your hand. Your eyes squeezed shut, overwhelmed, as a familiar thread began to wind in your belly, a bobbin twisting impossibly tight, threatening to snap. His strange language tilted upwards at the end of a sentence - a question? - and you nodded, delirious, in response. A pleased hum reverberated through his chest. In English, he sighed: “Good girl.”
Your legs clenched involuntarily around his hips. Your fingers dug into the meat of his bicep as you hurtled toward oblivion. You focused on the sharp sound of his breathing, your only tether to reality, and mewled his name
He finally let go of your hand to take your chin between his thumb and pointer finger. He tipped your face to look up at him; his eyes focused on your face with a singular kind of rapt attention. He cooed, “ Darling. Little mortal. Look at me and come.”
And then, for a brief, incandescent moment - relief. The thread snapped, and your orgasm washed over you. Your ankles hooked behind his back, pulling him impossibly close. Warmth radiated through your body in soothing waves.
He said something in that lilting language of his. You dragged your fingers down his chest before sinking them into his hip, urging him on. Both of his hands curled around your waist, tipping your hips up to get a better angle while his hips jerked sloppily against you. He groaned above you, caught somewhere between pleasure and insanity.
Abruptly, he pulled out and sat back on his calves. His cock slapped against his belly with the movement. Your left hand - the one he had so lewdly kissed - reached out and closed around him. His hand came down and dwarfed yours, moving your hand how he wanted over his slick cock. His chest heaved, and his head tipped back on his shoulders when you tightened your grip infinitesimally.
He groaned your name as he came. Thick, hot ropes splattered across your lower belly. His eyes were screwed tight in ecstasy, mouth parted and slack, while a wounded sound clawed its way from his chest, broken up by a string of curses.
When his eyes finally blinked open, the first thing they sought was you. He watched you catch your breath through his sweat-soaked hair. You were surely a vision, with your limbs draped inelegantly over the duvet and his cum cooling on your stomach, but you found it hard to care when his eyes raked over you so hungrily - like he was committing you to memory. He twined his fingers through yours and brought your hand, still sticky with his release, to his mouth and pressed a kiss to your knuckles. Then to your wrist. Then to your inner elbow.
He bent over your body, bracketing your head between his forearms, and kissed you with a syrupy laziness that made you melt into the mattress. He licked at the seam of your lips before sliding his tongue along yours with a sticky, wet sound.
Sated, he curled up at your side like a cat - and began to purr like one, too. A pleased sound rumbled through his chest, broken by an occasional word in his strange language. His knee brushed your naked thigh while his hand drew a lazy pattern over your hip bone. You let your eyes slip shut for a moment, then sighed heavily.
“Loki,” you stage-whispered. He groaned and burrowed his face into his pillow. “I have to clean myself up.”
With the flick of his wrist, the master bathroom door swung open. A dry washcloth zipped through the air into his waiting hand, which he swept over your stomach and hand almost petulantly. “Done. Now be quiet, mortal.”
“Loki,” you whined. One of his eyes cracked open, fixing you with a glare. You pushed yourself up to a sitting position and didn’t miss how his eyes tracked the movement of your breasts.
“Fine,” he growled, burrowing himself more comfortably into the sheets. “Don’t take too long.”
You padded over to the bathroom on shaky legs. You busied yourself with wetting another cloth and wiping yourself off a bit more thoroughly, then washed your hands and splashed some cold water over your cheeks. A thrill swooped through your belly at the thought of Loki sprawled across the bed on the other side of the door.
You exited to find that the room in disarray. You hadn’t been paying attention when you got up, but now you could see the full extent of your tryst. Both of your clothes were in a heap by the foot of the bed. An entire shelf had been upended, hanging precariously from one anchor. Books and other shiny trinkets were scattered across the carpet and the lampshade was crooked on its frame. The blanket pooled on the floor, pulled halfway off the mattress.
At the centre of the chaos, Loki watched you through slitted eyes with his head pillowed on his forearm, a preternatural stillness warning you of his mounting displeasure. Dread settled in your stomach like a stone, chilling you to the bone, and a once-comfortable silence was twisting into something taut with tension.
“I trust I was satisfactory?” He intoned. “Got your mind off of whatever it is you mortals worry about for a little bit?”
Your eyebrows drew together. You shuffled across the room to pick at the pile of clothes at the foot of his bed. You pulled your dress over your head but didn’t bother to put anything else on, opting to awkwardly fold your underwear and bra up in one hand while cradling your shoes in the other.
“Sure.” You fiddled with one of your bra straps, smoothing it flat between your fingers. “Was I… satisfactory ?”
He tsked. You heard the blankets rustle as he rearranged himself on his bed, but he said nothing else.
A cold bolt of pain ripped through your chest. You scanned the room desperately for your bag - had you come in with it? You thought you might have dropped it at the door when the two of you arrived. “Right. Ok then. Thanks.”
He hummed.
You gave up on your bag - you would find it tomorrow, or next week, or never - you just had to get out of the room as quickly as possible before you started to cry. You thought back to the cold tone he’d used when referring to the barista who gave him her number earlier that day. I’m clearly not interested. How silly, to assume that Loki’s interest extended further than a night of worship to preen under.
You had really thought…
You cast one last glance at Loki, tamping down the agony that was clawing its way up your throat. Even in his cruelty, he was a vision; his pale skin was a compliment to the dark sheets, his black hair unruly, curling with sweat, fanned out across his forehead. His narrowed eyes followed you the entire way to the door.
Just before you could leave, his voice sliced through the silence. “He’s pathetic, by the way.”
You stopped halfway across the threshold. “Who is?”
Loki’s sneer was audible. “Your guy. ”
“What are you talking about, Loki?”
“The guy. The one you fucked me to forget about.”
You turned and stared at a point over Loki’s shoulder, your mind whirring. Indignation roiled hot in your chest. “Why do you think there’s another guy?”
“I came by, earlier. To pick you up - because I’m a gentleman - and you told Romanoff that you wanted to get over some… guy. To find someone you didn’t care about to have some fun with to get him off your mind. And she recommended-” He drew in a sharp breath and scrubbed a hand down his face. “And then… And then you went and found me.”
“You were listening to us?”
His eyes opened to slits to glare at you. “That should hardly surprise you at this point.”
Your mouth pressed into a thin line. “Touche.”
“It wasn’t that red-haired boy, was it? Because he could hardly look you in the eyes.”
“No, it wasn’t him.”
“I don’t know if that’s better. Anyone worthy of you should have been glued to your side all night. They should be courting you! Not,” Loki waved his hand vaguely between the two of you, “letting you go off with some washed-up, would-be villain.”
“Right. Courting me” He was a god, sure, but you were starting to wonder if you might be able to get one good hit in before he had you pinned against the wall. “Why does it matter to you, anyway? You got what you wanted, didn’t you? My undivided attention? One night of worship to boost your ego?”
His eyes slammed shut; his expression seemed to fold in on itself, anger imploding into raw grief. “Leave.”
You scoffed. “No, really, Loki. What would you suggest? How would you ‘court’ me?”
Loki’s voice rose an octave, livid. “What do you mean ‘how would I court you’?”
You wracked your memory, searching for the clue that would make this conversation make sense. “What would our notorious flirt, Loki Laufeyson, Mr. Clearly Not Interested, suggest?”
“I don’t have to speak in hypotheticals,” Loki snapped. “I have been courting you!”
You blinked. “What?”
“I have been perfectly clear with my affections for you.” Loki sat up. It should have been ridiculous, arguing fully clothed while he was naked, but the urgency that burned through your veins washed any humor from the room. “ The gifts? The excuses to spend time with you? The - I have been trying to woo you for weeks! And it drives me mad because I was a prince once, I could have given you anything you desired, in any realm, on any planet. I could have made you want me.”
“You flirt with everyone.”
“I gave you my knife,” he argued. “I’m- I’m purring. Can any man say the same? And all it got me was, what, a pity fuck? A romp while you wait for some idiot mortal like him to get his head on straight just long enough to take you on some silly, stupid, completely banal date? What does he have that I can’t give to you? What about me is so vile that you can’t even fathom wanting me?” His eyes shone. “Why did you have to choose me tonight?”
“Because I like you.”
“Yes, fine, you like me,” he sneered. “Your desperate pet. You could pat me on the head after a job well done and move on with your life. I’m supposed to just be happy that you like me when I think about the sound of my name in your mouth every waking moment of every day. I’ll just have to carry on living through the mundane torture of sitting next to you on that blasted couch and not being able to touch you. Truly pathetic. And weak. Piteous Loki, who has to live with the knowledge of what you sound like. What you taste like. While he-”
“Loki,” you crossed the room and knelt on the edge of his bed. “I like you .”
“You want to know how I would court you? If we were back on Asgard and I had any shred of reputation to my name I could have- I could have invited you to one of my mother’s silly parties and only danced with you. I could have taken you on walks through the gardens. I could have lavished you with stars and swords. I would have given you my signet ring.” He continued morosely, “and you would have… would have worn it on your thumb, if you had accepted it. If you had accepted me. It would have been the height of gossip, that silly, simple ring.”
His eyes found yours. An expression you’d seen a hundred times in the field crossed his face, calculating every possible outcome. He cradled your face in one hand and wound the other around your waist, crushing you to his front with that same inhuman strength you’d felt earlier. You pushed against his chest and tilted your face away; at the last second his mouth collided with the corner of yours. An angry sound hissed between his teeth as he maneuvered your face to look straight.
“I could have made you want me. Offered you a crown. I could have laid entire bloodlines at your feet.” His eyes had settled heavily on your lips, on the slight shine left behind by his mouth. True, raw anguish crackled behind every other word. “Just let me be good for you, please. Let me sleep at the foot of your bed. You might even learn to love me one day, and I will spend every waking moment of my life trying to be worthy of it.”
You didn’t respond right away, your mind stuttering to a conclusion as you pieced together what he was saying. You glanced around the room, at the tiny details you missed when he first reeled you in. To the stack of books you had traded him last week, dutifully dogeared. To the glittery trinkets he loved to collect when he was out in the field, many of which would inevitably end up in a dish on your bedside table. To the sparkling green dress on your shoulders, picked out so he might take notice, that matched the tie you helped him choose.
To the set of ornate knives on his dresser, tucked away in their leather roll, save for one which slept on your bathroom counter.
Your hands slid up his shoulders. His eyes squeezed shut when your palm pressed against his cheek and a great, shuddering breath wracked his lithe frame. You had been so sure that it was all a game, that he’d known all along how you felt for him and was reveling in the attention.
It never occurred to you that he might have been trying to garner it in the first place.
“Loki… You’re the guy. The one I was trying to get over.”
His body went still. Still like stone. Still like a cloudless sky. His lower lip trembled slightly before his eyes opened.
“Please,” his voice was hoarse. He seemed to be drawing from a well of grief only someone who had seen the birth and death of stars could fathom. “I know I don’t deserve it, but be kind to me.”
You shook your head, drawing your thumb back and forth over his cheekbone. “I really didn’t know. I thought it was all a game for you.”
He scoffed. “Even Stark noticed. He’s spent the past three weeks calling you my master. Asking me when I was going to get down on my knees and bark.”
You fell into an uneasy silence. You ran your other thumb over the ring on his left hand. It was comparatively quite plain - just a simple gold band with a round plate on top, engraved with some foreign sigil you didn’t recognize. Even still, the weight of his words - the intentionality behind the gesture - was worth more than any precious stone in the universe.
“I deserve it. To not have you. To suffer through watching you love another.” Loki blinked up at you through tears. “Oh, but I don’t want to. I’m selfish, I’m sorry.”
A watery laugh bubbled up in your chest. “I’m sorry I didn’t recognize it sooner. I really did think this whole time that you just liked having me fawn over you.”
A long silence unfolded between the two of you. You met Loki’s stare and tried hard not to wilt under it.
“We really are fools, aren’t we?” He said.
You pulled his hand up to your mouth and kissed his signet ring. “It sounds lovely. Our theoretical life on Asgard, I mean.”
“I would wear my hair braided until we were married,” he supplied. “And we would eat breakfast together, and sneak into the library every chance we got because propriety would demand I only ever kiss your hand in public.”
“I’m sure that would get the gossip mill going.”
A smile curled his mouth at the corners. “Courtiers would only have to look at me for a heartbeat to know how lost I was for you. I was already the dread of the Asgardian gossip columns; they would have loved nothing more than to poke fun at the besotted second-born and his public displays of affection.”
Silence settled over the two of you. You drew a meandering line from his jaw to his elbow and then back. His eyes fixed on your sternum, though his mind seemed lost in thought. His hands idly toyed with the zipper pull at the small of your back.
“Do you mean it?” He whispered.
“Will you get me a manticore?”
A wolfish grin spread slowly across his face. His hands found the hem of your dress and began sliding it up your back. “Anything. Name it.”
You lifted your arms so he could pull it over your head. You heard it land with a soft thump in some corner of the room. His mouth pressed against the top of one breast, though he could hardly drop the grin long enough to properly kiss you.
Your fingers threaded through the damp curls at the base of his skull. You could barely contain your own smile; though you were sure it was still raining outside, your skin was warm and electrified, as if awash by the midday sun.
“Good thing I look amazing in green.”
And gold, you discovered. Especially when it was on your left thumb. Especially when it caught the light as your Prince took your hand in his.
Especially, years later, when you had a gold band to match it…. And so did he.
Summary: A marriage proposal from Prince Loki is every princess's dream come true, except for yours.
Pairing: Asgard Loki x F. Reader
Warnings: Smut. Minors DNI. 18+ ONLY. Loss of Virginity.
W/C: 3.4K
A/N: This will be two parts!
See My Masterlist Here
"Married to Prince Loki?!" You shriek. It was the most absurd thing you had ever heard. "Stop being dramatic, dear. You two are very close. Since Prince Thor is already promised, this is the best match we could secure. Your father and I thought you would be happy considering he is your friend, and not a stranger."
"We used to be close! That was ages ago! I loathe him, mother. This is unfair. I would rather marry a stranger." You protest, wiping your sweaty palms on your long gown as you pace the room. "Why do you hate him? We just visited them last week." She tries to reason with you.
"You said yourself he was your best friend. Do you not recall the tears you shed when your father forbid you from spending time with him unchaperoned?" She pours herself more tea, waiting for your reply. "Yes, well he was my best friend. He's a different person now. I barely know him." You look out of your window, the palace in clear view of your own estate.
Your father was king of a neighboring realm, when the ogres attacked, forcing your family to seek safety in Asgard. You were welcomed with open arms. Frigga and your mother became fast friends. Odin relied on your father's knowledge of the other realms' customs, so he became valuable to him. Frigga invited your mother for tea every day. She insisted your mother bring you along since she had two boys close to your age you could play with.
Thor was older, more focused on playing rough with the other boys. He never paid attention to you. Loki was only a year older than you. You often found him reading under a tree instead of playing. He didn't notice you at first until you insisted the older boys let you play. Volstagg accidentally knocked you to the ground.
When Loki heard you crying, he stood up for you even though Volstagg towered over all of you. He was an unusually large child. Loki brought you to his favorite hiding place. Deep in the woods behind the palace there was a treehouse. He explained that he often came there for solace. It was built for Odin thousands of years ago when he was a child.
Thor didn't like to play there because it was too far from the palace. He thought he would get in trouble. One evening, Loki lost track of time and fell asleep in the treehouse. When he was finally found, Frigga had the place cleaned up, so it wouldn't be dangerous. Ever since that day, you and Loki were inseparable. You used the treehouse as a secret lair for you two to spend time alone.
The other children didn't play with you. They only played with Loki because they were scared of Odin. You understood each other completely. You would make up stories and put on one person plays to share your creativity. You grew up together. It went from playing as children, to hiding out in the tree house after mandatory appearances at balls. You despised when your father wanted you to meet other royals. He would force you to dance with their sons. After two dances, you and Loki would slip away to your private place.
You would laugh about the cheesy things they said to impress you. You would never forget the first time your heart skipped a beat. You were laughing about the visiting prince who told you your gown was lovely. It was the most hideous shade of lime green the seamstress could find. You had requested it that way, so you could hide your beauty. You wiped tears of laughter from the corners of your eyes as you told Loki your reasoning for the unpleasing color.
"You should have known you couldn't hide beauty like yours even in that atrocious gown." His sentiment made you blush, your heart stopped beating as he held your gaze. His eyes lingered on your lips for a few seconds too long. You were sure he was going to kiss you. You closed your eyes in anticipation, feeling his face draw closer to yours. Then you were interrupted by Thor bellowing down below. Your father was looking for you.
You wouldn't be allowed out of his sight if he caught you out there. When you got home, you wrote everything down in your diary. How Loki had made you feel beautiful for the first time in your life, how you wished Thor and your father would have waited moments longer. The next day your father called you into his study, your diary in hand. Oh, how you wished the floor would open up and swallow you whole.
"I forbid you to see him ever again." Your father's stern words instantly made you cry. Loki was everything to you. You couldn't lose him. You told him it was just a silly crush. That what you had written was just a fantasy you made up. He finally believed your lies, but now you couldn't be with him unless you were chaperoned.
Hundreds of years went by, you were as close as ever. You still found your way around the chaperones. You would sneak out at night meeting at the treehouse. You would stay up half the night together laughing as you did when you were children. He would have you back in your bed before sunrise. You always thought it was unfair that you had to be chaperoned, but Loki could do as he pleased.
Then came your first heartbreak. A visiting prince had met you at one of Frigga's balls. He immediately asked your father to court you. You were devastated. You didn't want to be courted. You were happy with your life. But your father couldn't wait to marry you off. But the more time you spent with the prince, the more you liked him. He had dark hair and blue eyes, sometimes you pretended he was Loki.
But he wasn't and there was your whole problem. No one would compare to Loki. But if you had to marry someone, at least the prince was nice. The prince would often find you with Loki going on strolls through the gardens, eating, and reading in silence. One evening, he visited your estate. He said he wanted to end this courtship. You couldn't think of anything you did wrong. He explained that he was certain your affection lied elsewhere, and he wanted to be the only man in his future bride's life. You didn't understand what he had meant, but you thanked him. You were free once again.
Then the latest scandal sheet was delivered by your maid. It mentioned how you and the prince were getting close. You rolled your eyes, thankful that was over. But when you reached the last paragraph, your whole world shattered. Prince Loki had been seen at the brothel three times this week. Not only that, but he had been caught with an unnamed maid in his mother's garden.
It wasn't uncommon for royalty to fuck around like whores, but this truly wounded you. You cried for a week after it came out. Your mother thought you were upset over the prince ending your courtship, so she explained there would be other princes. You didn't visit Loki for three months after the scandal sheet came out.
Another one hundred years passed, and you had grown used to Loki's womanizing. You were at the market, Loki carrying your basket filled with trinkets, winking at the unsuspecting maidens. He made note of the ones he wanted to bed later. You rolled your eyes, as you handed your coins to the shopkeeper, peeling the orange you just purchased.
"Really Loki, can you go one minute without finding four new lovers?" You joked. "Jealous?" He smirked. "Of course not, don't be ridiculous." "The only reason you are not overcome with jealousy is because you do not know what I am capable of carnally." The bite of orange you had just taken lodged down your throat causing you to choke. Loki smiled, pleased with himself.
"Of course, I wouldn't know that, or care to find out. You shouldn't speak of such things so loudly. What if someone heard you?" You looked around, your maid, Greta had her eyes on the ground pretending she wasn't listening. Loki walked over to her, dropping a few coins into her hand, and whispering to her. You watch as she goes to the next vender looking at the silks.
Loki grabs your arm, leading you behind a tent. "Aren't you curious? Your parents keep you in the dark, only for the bumbling fool you end up marrying to spill his seed in a matter of minutes." You would be like the other princesses, not knowing what to expect on your wedding night, if it wasn't for Loki. He had told you all about the act some hundred years ago, so you would know what to expect. You were thankful for that, at least.
But now, when he was looking at you like that, and speaking of such things, you wished you didn't know. "You won't experience pleasure with them. They just want to produce an heir, and once that's taken care of, he will get a mistress. I don't want that for you. I hope that you find a love match, but that is highly unlikely considering your father allows anyone with a title to court you."
You consider Loki's words as he leans in, his breath tickling your ear. "Let me show you what you are missing. I'll make it good for you. You deserve to experience mind blowing sex at least once in your life." He was the devil himself; you were sure of it. He was so tempting. You knew he was experienced, and women threw themselves all over him everywhere you went. He had to be good at it.
"I - I'm not sure. I would be ruined if anyone found out. My father would kill you.” You whisper, just in case someone was listening. "That's not a problem, I would just marry you before your reputation took a hit." He smiles as if what he said wasn't crazy. "Loki, I couldn't ask you to do that. To be honest, I am frightened. Not of you, but of the act itself. It doesn't sound like it would be pleasurable. Oh, but it must be if every eligible maiden in the kingdom lets you have your way with them."
You continue your ranting until Loki grabs your hand. "I would be gentle with you. We could start slowly. We would only do what you are comfortable with." You agreed to meet him at the treehouse that night. When you're back in your chambers you call Greta in to question her.
"Greta, have you had sex before?" She gasps, looking everywhere but at you. "My lady, that is not appropriate." You sit on your bed, gesturing for her to sit beside you. "Oh, spare me, we have known each other since we were girls. So out with it." You fold your arms across your chest waiting for her to answer.
"Yes, there was one man." She answers, her cheeks turning red. "Greta! Who was it?" She smiles, "Bart, the baker's son. We had a lovely couple of months together, but then he married the butcher's daughter. You see, men are fickle creatures. They use you until they find someone else. So be warned, my lady, keep your heart out of it. Men can have sex without emotions, and us women, well we often times end up heartbroken."
Greta's words repeated in your head all afternoon. You had known Loki for centuries, so you didn't think he would hurt you. But you were tempted to turn around, go back to your chambers and pretend like none of this ever happened. Luckily, he was in the treehouse waiting for you, so you couldn't leave now.
"It has been brought to my attention that men will do this with anyone, so I know it will mean nothing to you. And apparently, it will mean everything to me. I just don't want to regret this." You confide in Loki. "My darling girl, this will mean everything to me too. You are far too precious to me for it to mean nothing. We don't have to do anything if that is what you wish."
"I think you are right. I deserve to feel pleasure, and I trust you. I'm just nervous." Loki cups your face in his hands, bringing himself closer to you. It was so similar to that night when you were teenagers, your stomach erupts in butterflies. You never imagined the cute, gangly boy you knew so long ago would grow into the devilishly handsome man before you.
He kisses you, and it is exactly how you had always imagined. It was as if no time had passed between the moment when he almost kissed you centuries ago and now. You felt exactly the same. When he finally breaks the kiss, you look at him with wide eyes. If just his kiss could make you feel like this, you were in trouble.
Loki sat you down on the old mat you used to read on as children. It had fresh linen on it. Loki must have put it on before your arrival. He pressed kisses to your neck, sharp teeth nipping at your exposed skin. He had you sit up so he could undo your dress, nimble fingers working quickly on your corset until all your clothing was sat aside. You were bare for the first time in front of a man, but you were not ashamed. You should have attempted to cover yourself, but when Loki looked at you like you were a priceless painting, you felt no need to.
Loki took his time kissing every part of you. He toyed with your nipples, and you felt yourself growing wet. When he lowered his head to take one between his lips, you finally understood why all those maidens would jump at his beck and call. He kissed his way down your stomach, nipping your upper thigh. He spread your legs apart, pleased with your arousal dripping down your thighs.
"May I?" He asks, pink tongue poking out to lick his bottom lip. You aren't sure what he is asking, but he knows what he is doing, so you give your consent. His tongue envelops you, sliding from your slit to your most sensitive part. "Loki!" You shout, as he continues exploring you. His tongue flicks your clit as your hands weave through his messy locks.
You never imagined it would be like this. And you suppose if it wasn't for Loki, you would never know. He slips a long finger inside you as he continues licking you, He stretches you, placing another finger inside. You jolt at the intrusion, his fingers curling to caress your walls. You feel like you are about to explode.
"Loki, I feel so wonderful." You tell him. His lips suction around your clit, tugging while his fingers work their magic. Stars explode behind your eyes as your first orgasm rips through you. Loki waits until you finish writhing on his face before coming up for air. He wipes your arousal off his face with the back of his hand.
You think that has to be the most attractive thing you have ever seen. But you are proven wrong when Loki undresses. He has filled out since the last time you saw him shirtless, when you were swimming as teenagers. He drops his trousers, hard cock springing free. You gasp when you see the size of him. You were beyond thankful he told you about the differences between men and women so long ago. What a surprise this would be if he hadn't.
"You still have time to change your mind, love. Just say the word and I will stop." He stalks toward you, lowering himself to the mat. "Please do not stop." You say breathlessly. Loki chuckles, settling between your thighs. "This will hurt, but only for a moment. Tell me when you are ready for me to move."
Loki sinks into you, pressure and pain causing you to cry out. "I'm so sorry. I can't help it. It will feel better soon, I promise." You grit your teeth as Loki bottoms out. He stills inside you, waiting for you to give him permission to move. You take a minute, adjusting to his size, before you tell him you are alright.
Loki slowly removes himself before filling you completely again. After a few thrusts, it starts to feel good. "Faster, Loki, please." You beg, clawing at his back as he ravishes you. His hand comes down between your joined bodies, skilled fingers swirling against your clit. The feeling you had earlier comes back full force, another orgasm sending you soaring. Loki pulls out, finishing on the fresh linen on the mat. You lay there, breathing heavily, looking at Loki. He truly is beautiful. "Shall we go again?" He asks, his signature smirk returning.
Loki laid with you three more times before the sun rose. He walked you back to your estate, making sure you made it inside safely before walking back to the palace. The next day, you were excited to see Loki. You secretly hoped you would spend the day in the treehouse.
"Mary was looking for you." Fandral tells Loki, raising his eyebrows suggestively. "Well, you can tell her I never wish to see her again. She is of no use to me anymore." They laugh in unison, walking away as you round the corner. "Has someone finally caught your eye?" Fandral smiles. "Actually, I plan on asking the princess to marry me." Loki shocks Fandral who places a hand over his heart.
"Did you hear that, Greta?" You ask your maid, unwanted tears filling your eyes. "Yes, my lady." She answers. "Repeat what you heard please."
"Prince Loki said "You can tell her I never wish to see her again. She is of no use to me anymore." She looks at you with pity. "That's what I heard too. Oh, Greta." You collapse into her arms, sobbing. "Let's go home, my lady. We mustn't let the prince see that he has hurt you."
From that moment on, things were very different between you and Loki. He demanded to know why you avoided him now and why you never had a kind word for him. You never answered because he knew what he had done. He just didn't know you heard him talking about you. That was five months ago. Now, Odin was ordering him to marry and they had chosen you of all people.
If this happened before you would be ecstatic. Now, it makes you sick thinking about being alone with him. You had no choice. Your father had been trying to marry you off for centuries, and you always got out of your courtships somehow. You suspected Loki had a hand in it. But now that he wanted to marry you, there was no getting out of it.
You were expected at the palace by noon tomorrow. You paced the floor so many times, your footprints were probably embedded into the floor. Then you had the perfect idea. You would run away.
The next day everyone awaited your arrival. Your mother and father sat with Frigga and Odin having tea while they waited. Thor patted Loki on the back. "Finally, brother. Everyone saw this coming. I am very happy for you." Loki brought his cup to his lips, when a timid knock on the door interrupted them. He jumps up, rushing to let you inside. Instead of you, he is greeted by Greta. "Forgive the intrusion, your highness. It's the princess she ran away." Greta hands Loki the letter you left.
She sniffles, worried about you. While he reads the note, your father and Odin start planning on sending knights to find you. Frigga comforts your mother. "What does it say?" Thor asks, peeking over Loki's shoulder.
Greta, I cannot marry that pompous ass. I would rather live amongst the pigs. Do not bother looking for me, because you will never find me. Tell mother and father I love them dearly. Thank you Greta, for everything. I wish I could have taken you with me. All my love.
"No need to create a search team, father. I will find her myself." Loki states, leaving the room.
tangle me in all your broken pieces (and watch me stay) | ch 3
Loki x Reader
Series Summary: An Asgardian god has just threatened your planet and you were called in to provide a little help. What you didn't expect was to develop a strange soft spot for said god, who hid more pain behind his cold facade than you thought possible.
A/N: This story is already occupying a very special place in my heart.
Word count: 4,2k
Masterlist | Read ch 2 here
You arrived at Stark Tower a little before noon. The quinjet landed on top of the building and you were once again relieved to be stepping out of it. The ride back had somehow been even worse than the one before, as there was a heavy shadow looming in the air.
Loki had been quiet since he'd stepped back in the jet after the meeting with Odin, his eyes always downcast, fixed on his cuffed hands. You couldn't blame him—even though it felt foreign to see him so… broken, compared to the confident god you first saw being escorted to his cage a couple of days ago—you could only imagine how bare he must be feeling without his powers.
You walked out of the jet and followed Tony inside the top floor of his tower, trying to ignore the weight of a certain stare on your back. Sometimes you forgot just how much money Tony had, being here was a good reminder. Floor-to-ceiling windows that overlooked all of New York allowed the sunlight to shine on the plush, velvety burgundy couches, the marble walls, the exaggerated chandelier, and the fancy built-in bar. You certainly won't mind living here, it was quite a step up from your humble apartment.
"I'll arrange for someone to go pick up your stuff from your apartment," Tony spoke, glancing at you over his shoulder, "do you want to go with or wait here?"
"I can wait here," you shrugged, "As long as they bring all my clothes, my laptop, and my cat."
Tony stopped in his tracks and waited for you to reach his side. He narrowed his eyes, "So we're having an actual cat too?"
You opened and closed your mouth, "Uh- I can't leave her alone in my apartment for so long, Tony."
The billionaire hummed halfheartedly, resuming his path toward the elevator at the far end of the room. "No scratch marks on my furniture, please."
"Me and Thor will have to hang back for now," Fury called, walking up to the built-in bar and pouring himself a drink, "I assume you have it handled from here?" He raised an eyebrow at both you and Tony.
"Yes, darling," Tony answered with a smile and pressed the button for the elevator. He whistled and gestured with a hand for Loki, "Come on, reindeer games, you're with us."
Thor let go of where he had been holding Loki by the arm, "I'll see you later, brother." Not waiting for an answer, he threw a smile your way and joined Fury, already asking about the drink in the director's hand.
Loki approached you with staggered steps, huffing out a sigh when he stopped beside you. He still had those same traces of anger lingering on his features; lips drawn into a line, eyes just a tad narrowed, shoulders tense.
The elevator arrived with a ding and you, Tony, and Loki stepped in; with Loki in the middle.
Your hands were clammy, you brushed them on your black jeans to try and chase the feeling away. You didn't know why you were so nervous, this had been your idea, after all. Maybe it was because you could feel all that tension flowing off of Loki—with him standing so close to you, his shoulder mere inches away from touching yours.
The ride down a few floors was agonizingly slow, with only the low humming of the elevator as it moved.
You cleared your throat and broke the uncomfortable silence. "Tony," you called, leaning just a tad forward so you could see him past Loki. You showed him your wrist and wiggled it, raising your eyebrows pointedly.
A deep frown etched itself into Tony's features until his eyes lit up when he understood what you meant. "Oh, right." Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a thin, black bracelet with an even thinner strip of soft green light around it. "Because we are civilized," he began, turning to Loki. "I took the liberty of making you this." He raised the bracelet in front of the god, who looked wholly unimpressed.
Unceremoniously, Tony reached for one of Loki's wrists and clasped the bracelet on him. It closed comfortably yet forcefully, it wasn't coming off anytime soon. Once it was secured, he finally removed the uncomfortable handcuffs Loki was still wearing.
A grimace appeared on Loki's face, he rubbed his wrists as soon as they were free. You winced as you caught sight of the reddish skin from where the cuffs had been pressuring. He then turned the single wrist that now styled the new device, observing it closely with a small frown.
Loki chuckled; "You can't expect this little thing to keep me here."
"I can, actually," Tony explained, gesturing to Loki's bracelet, "This little thing has a tracker and if you try to leave this tower when you're not supposed to, or try to take it off, we will know pretty much immediately." His smile was proud and just a tad mocking.
A scoff went past Loki's lips. "Lovely," he mumbled.
"I would really like it if you did try to escape, by the way," Tony suggested, rather animatedly, "Gives me an excuse to test my new security system." There was a sly smirk on his lips, he shrugged, "You'd probably survive."
"Tony! Come on," you groaned, shooting him a glare.
The billionaire rolled his eyes; "I'm kidding, relax."
The elevator finally arrived at what would be your new home. A whole floor exclusively for you and Loki—it had been your request, you figured it would be more peaceful this way and you knew Tony had the means and space to make it happen. As the doors slid open the first thing you noticed was the living room, it was big, spacious, and had a massive burgundy couch with a huge TV in front of it; on one side of the living room was your own set of floor-to-ceiling windows along with the double doors that led to the balcony, on the other side was the kitchen, an open concept adjacent to the living room; further into the room were two doors, one beside the other, which you assumed were the bedrooms. Everything had a beautiful modern look and exuded luxury, the least you'd expect from something Tony built.
"Right, I'm dropping you two off here and heading down to the lab," Tony clasped his hands together, then turned to you; "Your room is the one on the right, I'll ask them to drop your things there."
You opened your mouth to speak, but Tony beat you to it; "And the cat, yes."
You stepped out of the elevator and a moment later Loki begrudgingly followed. The god didn't wait for you or spared Tony another glance before walking into the living room, taking in the place, his fingers tracing the velvet of the couch as he looked around.
"Thank you, Tony." You watched Loki for a beat longer before turning back to your friend. "Truly." You smiled softly.
A sigh escaped Tony's lips, his eyes darting to Loki, "Hope he's worth all this drama." Settling his attention back on you, he raised a finger, taking on a serious tone, "If you need anything, if he does anything, you call me, understand?"
"Yes," you reassured him, burying your hands in the pockets of your cardigan. "I will, don't worry."
With that, Tony bid you goodbye for now, and you were left alone with Loki. A soft breeze came in through the open windows, sending a shiver down your spine. Everything had happened so fast, one moment Fury was dragging you out of your apartment to help stop a god who wanted to rule over your planet, and now here you were, being roommates with said god. A quiet chuckle fell past your lips. What are the odds?
"You have a strange kind of courage."
Loki's voice rang through the quiet room, capturing your attention and urging you to turn around and face him. Once you locked eyes, you raised an eyebrow at him, silently asking that he elaborate.
"Or should I say… stupidity," A devilish smirk came to Loki's features, and he took slow and calculated steps toward you. "Locking yourself here, alone, with me." His voice grew huskier, lower. His bright eyes roamed up and down your body, until he was close enough that you could nearly feel his breath on your lips. "Oh, the things I could do to you," he whispered, the daunting tilt of his lips ever-present.
You held the silence for a moment longer, doing your best not to avoid his gaze. You knew what he was trying to do; he wanted to intimidate you, make you feel vulnerable and small. Just as he was feeling right now.
"Aren't we past the bluffing already?" You mimicked his smirk. You could tell he was caught by surprise when his eyebrows knitted together in a confused frown. A quiet laugh escaped you and you rolled your eyes. "Come on, let's go see your room." You didn't wait for an answer before walking around him and towards the two doors at the back.
You turned the door handle that led to what would be Loki's bedroom. It was pretty simple and bare, still. There was a double bed against the wall, a dresser, a desk in front of huge double windows, two bedside tables on each side of the bed with a lamp on one of them, a bookcase without any books, and another door that you assumed led to a bathroom.
"It's cozy," you mused, "Give it a little personal touch it'll soon feel like home, right?" You turned to look at Loki, who had made his way to you and was analyzing the room with narrowed eyes.
Instead of entertaining your attempt at banter, he said instead; "you don't want to challenge me, mortal."
You threw your hands in the air, "Oh my god, when did I ever challenge you?" You asked exasperatedly, losing the remains of patience you had. "Is this all you know how to do? Threaten the people who want to help you?"
"Help me?" Loki all but growled, "Because of you I'm stranded on this pathetic planet, and my magic has been taken from me." He spat the words with clenched fists, towering over you, "Don't think for one minute that I've forgotten how you've messed with my mind, just wait until I've-"
"Because of me you are not rotting in a dungeon forever," you raised your voice to match his tone, shoving a finger at his chest, "Because of me you're free from the people who fucking tortured you."
Loki blinked multiple times as soon as the words left your mouth, almost as if you'd slapped him. His lips hovered open yet he didn't speak.
You softened when you caught the flash of hurt in his eyes as the memories undoubtedly came back to the surface. You closed your eyes, breathed in, and opened them again. "Believe it or not, I actually meant it when I said I only wanted to help you."
A half-hearted scoff went past his lips and he shook his head. "And why would you ever do that? Surely not from the goodness of your heart." For the first time, his voice held something other than anger, you just couldn't pinpoint what it was. "What is it that you're after?"
You shrugged as a melancholic smile graced your lips. It was rather sad that Loki couldn't fathom the thought of help coming without a price. "I don't know, maybe I'm just that stupid, right?" You stepped out of his bedroom, holding the door handle, "I'll be outside if you need me." With that you closed the door, leaving Loki alone in his room.
For several moments he simply stood there, eyes fixed on the plain wood of the door. Then a shaky breath went past his lips, and his shoulders sagged; all anger washed away, leaving room only for sorrow. Slowly, reality finally started to down on him. Loki turned around in the spot, gaze roaming over his new chambers. From out the window, he could see the never-sleeping city of New York, the world he once wished to take over; it felt like so long ago already, a far-fetched attempt at filling the gaping hole left in his chest from empty promises.
A sharp sting of pain suddenly pierced his back, going down his spine as he stretched. He winced, rubbing the sore spot. Telltales of his captor, the one you'd freed his mind from.
You. Why would you do what you did? What could you possibly gain by trying to help him?
You confused him, a mystery ever since Loki first laid eyes on you, one he was yet to uncover. The fact that you had been able to pry into his mind so easily, see glimpses of his misfortunes, made him feel uneasy. And from all the things he assumes you could've done, you chose to cut The Other's hold of him, and nothing more.
Loki would never admit to the relief it had been, almost as if plucking out an arrow that had been piercing his skin and making him bleed. He refrained from dwelling on the matter for now, especially if you'd insist that you wanted nothing from him—unlikely.
He took one step forward, and then another, and one more. And his vision grew blurry. He opened his mouth only for a choked sob to stumble out. He'd never felt this bare, this defenseless, this vulnerable.
Loki raised his hands, fingers trembling. He tried to bring all his energy to his fingertips, gritting his teeth as his tears fell past the bottom lid of his eyes and dropped to the floor beneath his feet. Nothing. Not even a single spark of green.
Loki's knees hit the floor. He brought his arms around himself. His whole life, living amongst kings and warriors, his seiðr was all he had. And now, he doesn't know who he is without it.
He wanted to blame you. He so desperately wanted to lay the blame on you for losing his powers, for his exile on earth. Alas, it was a weak attempt. A lie that would do him no good in the end.
Several minutes went by with Loki kneeling on the floor of his bedroom, fading into the background like many times before. And like many times before, he eventually picked himself back up, drying his own tears with the back of his sleeve, and taking deep breaths to calm his bruised heart.
Loki made a beeline for the bathroom, maybe a warm shower would do him some good.
─── ·❆· ───
You were sitting on the kitchen counter when Loki finally left his bedroom again. Tony had already gotten Happy to bring most of your things from your apartment, your cat included. The fluffy ball of grey fur lay beside you as your fingers mindlessly scratched behind her ears, making her purr contently.
The sound of a door closing made you look up from your cell phone. Loki approached you as if he were a stray cat seeing a human for the first time—you briefly wondered just how long it would take him to feel comfortable here. His hair was damp, falling just a little past his shoulders in shiny raven curls; he still wore the same clothes from before and you made a mental note to ask that Tony arrange more clothes for him.
"Hey," you greeted gently with a small smile, "Did you calm down?"
Loki gave you an unamused glare before averting his gaze to the windows on the other side. "No," he mumbled just for the sake of it.
"I'm ordering a bit of a late lunch," you wiggled your phone even though he wasn't looking at you, "Would you like something?"
Slowly, Loki's eyes trailed back to you. He said nothing as he momentarily held your gaze, before focusing on the cat laying beside you. A rather adorable frown came to his features then.
You noticed. "Loki, this is Rain," you introduced, gesturing to the cat. "Rain, that's Loki," then gestured to the god, "He's gonna be our new roomie."
"That's a strange name for a cat," Loki commented, taking half a step closer to you.
You simply shrugged, "It was raining pretty hard the day I found her on the street, it seemed fitting." A beat of silence passed. "You… can pet her if you want, she's friendly," you suggested timidly, pursing your lips as you looked at him.
Loki's eyes shot back to your face, his stern gaze returning. "No."
You sighed and pushed yourself off the counter, much to Rain's dismay, "Okay, listen, whether you like it or not, this is gonna be your life for the foreseeable future, yeah?" You kept your voice as gentle as you could, "So can we try not to make each day feel more miserable than the last? I mean, you have to admit that this is better than whatever dungeon they were going to throw you in." With a tentative smile, you gestured widely to the whole floor that now belonged to both of you.
Loki kept silent, his jaw set tightly in place.
At last, you admitted defeat and accepted the fact that chit-chat would not be a thing. You groaned; "Just- do you want lunch or not?"
"Of course I want lunch," Loki snapped, "I haven't eaten in nearly two days."
Immediately, your eyes went wide with shock, "You haven't-" You hesitated, "What do you mean you haven't eaten in two days? Didn't they feed you back at the Helicarrier?"
It was a fraction of a second, but you thought you saw Loki's gaze softening at your concern. "Why would they bother?" He simply asked.
You gulped, trying to conceal how this made you feel. "No wonder you're so grumpy," you mumbled in an attempt to lighten the mood. "What would you like, then?"
You quickly discovered that Loki was worse at deciding what to eat than you were. For today you settled for pizza, not exactly healthy, but simple and tasty enough. When it arrived, Loki took his slices and promptly locked himself back in his room. Living with him certainly would be an experience; taking him out to connect with your world, that would be a challenge.
─── ·❆· ───
It almost felt like floating. For a moment, he was almost at peace as he fell, and fell, and fell. And then he was alone, wandering through uncharted, hostile lands. Each day was a battle just to keep breathing, to keep walking. His body was weak and giving up on him when he was found, and then, his voice started fading with each of the screams that no one cared to listen to. His skin burned, ripped open, and healed. Only to go through it again, and again. Until all fight was snuffed out of him.
"You will long for something as sweet as pain."
Loki woke up with a start, sitting up on his bed so quickly that a thousand stars danced in his vision. His breathing came out in desperate huffs of air, making his lungs sting and not nearly enough to calm his thundering heart.
He looked around frantically, feeling his lower lip wobble and his cheeks dampening when he didn't recognize his surroundings immediately. Clutching the sheets to ground himself, Loki closed his eyes and did the breathing exercise he taught himself. Slowly, the fog cleared, yet only a little. And when he opened his eyes again, he remembered why he was in this bedroom.
With a long sigh going past his lips, Loki buried his head in his hands, nails clawing at the root of his hair. He could feel his clothes clinging to his body because of the cold sweat.
He couldn't stay here. He needed to get out.
The floor felt cold against his bare feet, it grounded him to reality. Gulping down a lump in his throat, Loki took staggered steps to his door, reaching the handle with an unsteady hand.
They couldn't keep him here forever, they couldn't expect a damn fancy bracelet to keep him from leaving. He'd break it, cut it off if he had to.
The walls around him were suffocating, closing in on him as he stumbled into the living room. It was so dark, nothing but a void of pitch black with even darker shadows shaping the outlines of the furniture around him. Who was to say no harm would reach him here?
A pathetic whimper fell past his lips, tears clouded his vision. He had to get out. He had to escape. He had to-
"Are you okay?"
Loki halted in his steps. His hand gripping tightly onto the back of the couch.
Quiet. The night suddenly became so quiet. The walls were far away now, he realized. There was a cold breeze coming in through the open doors of the balcony, and a single dim orange light coming from the kitchen beside him, chasing away the darkness. Loki could breathe again.
He took several deep breaths and felt the relief in his lungs. Slowly, he turned his gaze to the right, to where the soft light and the sweet voice came from.
You were standing in the middle of the kitchen, holding a steamy mug between both your hands and looking at him with eyes just a tad too wide. You were dressed in a purple hoodie with black sweatpants. This was the first time Loki had seen you wearing anything that wasn't black, he noted.
A small frown came to your features and you took a single step closer, "Is everything okay?" You repeated when he didn't answer you.
"Yes," Loki mumbled, pointedly avoiding your eyes. "Just needed a bit of air."
You nodded in understanding, taking a small sip of your tea. If you felt the troubles inside his mind, you didn't show it.
It was… strange, how your voice was able to pull him from the depths of his own mind. Loki forced himself not to dwell too much on it. You had successfully distracted him, that's all.
He straightened his posture, feeling a little self-conscious for being witnessed in such a state. "Don't you sleep?" He raised a brow at you, praying you wouldn't notice the rawness of his voice.
You tapped your mug. Your gaze on him was unwavering, almost as if you could see into his very soul. Loki shifted his stance; not for the first time, he felt way too bare before you.
"I could ask the same of you." You walked closer, and then past him, heading towards the balcony.
Loki followed. Thoughts of escaping long forgotten. You intrigued him.
The air outside was colder than the floor beneath his feet. From this high up in the tower, the wind was almost howling. New York looked like nothing but a sea of blinking lights.
You leaned on the railing, mug in hand as you looked down at the city. Loki approached slowly, warily, until he stood beside you.
"Sometimes, even if I don't want to, I can feel… whispers of people's feelings," you continued, voice quiet amidst the wind. "The nights are calmer," You closed your eyes, breathing in deeply, "Quieter. Sometimes I like to enjoy the silence."
For a long moment, Loki said nothing. He blinked lazily as he mulled over your words. He'd be lying if he said your abilities didn't fascinate him. And then, he remembered, and his breathing stumbled again.
He had to know.
"How-" Loki hesitated. He focused down on his hand, on the faint scars on the back of it. "How did you know?" It was nothing but a breath, as if he didn't have the guts to speak louder tonight.
You turned to him, cocking your head to the side.
Loki pursed his lips. "How did you know… My mind was…" He cursed under his breath when the words got stuck and tangled in his tongue.
"I felt it." You told him simply, your voice as soft as satin. "When they first brought you in, I- I felt this… heaviness, like something wasn't quite right…"
Loki chanced a single glance towards you, only to find your eyes already focused on him. They were shining under the moonlight, "Like it was hurting you."
You spoke as if it was a secret, one you weren't sure was yours to keep.
Loki sneered. He avoided your gaze promptly, knuckles turning white with the force he gripped onto the railings.
"You're ridiculous," the words fell past Loki's lips before he could stop them. They were all he had to protect himself. "Why would you ever go against your peers to help someone like me? When I've threatened your life and killed your kind?" Yet now, he didn't know if he was saying them to mock you, or to punish himself.
"I don't believe you're truly bad," You confessed without an ounce of doubt or anger, voice steady and gentle as the cold wind.
Loki's gaze found yours again, and he couldn't recall if anyone had ever looked at him the way that you do.
Your smile didn't hold happiness; "You have sad eyes."
⋆* ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ
Ch 4 coming soon.
Thank you for reading this little story. Feedback and reblogs are literally what keeps me motivated to continue posting here, so I’d appreciate it if you could take some time to reblog and comment. <3
You do not have permission to repost, copy, or translate my works on any platforms (even with credit), please respect.
tangle me in all your broken pieces (and watch me stay) | ch 2
Loki x Reader
Series Summary: An Asgardian god has just threatened your planet and you were called in to provide a little help. What you didn't expect was to develop a strange soft spot for said god, who hid more pain behind his cold facade than you thought possible.
A/N: I'm not sure if I completely like how this turned out. It feels a lot like a filler chapter, but nonetheless, a very necessary one. Next chapter will be more interesting and have more of Loki as we head into the main plot, I promise. <3
Word count: 4k
Masterlist | Read ch 1 here
"Are you out of your damn mind?" Fury screamed, he dragged you by the arm all the way into Banner's laboratory—nearly making you stumble on your own feet as you struggled to keep up with him—where Tony, Steve, Natasha, Bruce, and Thor, stood waiting.
You shook yourself off of his grasp, huffing angrily and adjusting your black cardigan over your shoulders. Everyone's eyes were on you, but they kept silent. Your chest heaved with adrenaline. With your sleeve, you brushed away the trail of blood under your nose.
"One minute you tell me you just want to talk, and wouldn't take any risks," Fury kept his tone loud, gesturing with his hands to where he'd just dragged you out of the room Loki was kept in. "And the next, I look at the cameras and what do I see? You're standing in front of him, inside the damn cage."
You gritted your teeth, breathing sharply through your nose. Your eyes were downcast, and you felt like a child being reprimanded for misbehaving.
You stole a single glance at Tony, who stood just a few steps behind Fury. He had his arms crossed over his chest, his lips hung open and he shook his head with indignance. "What the hell were you thinking? Do you have any idea of what could've happened?"
"Give me one single reason as to why I shouldn't send you home. Right. Now." Fury spoke with finality, both hands resting on his waist expectantly. He was fuming, you doubt you'd ever seen him this angry.
You knew you had been reckless, unbelievably so; in deciding to ditch the rules and simply take Loki's fate and mind into your own hands. But his pain had spoken louder then. And damn your heart, maybe it still does.
"I was right," you stated, raising your chin and quirking an eyebrow at Fury. "Loki's mind was being controlled. Not completely, but he wasn't the only one there. Something else was twisting his thoughts and pushing him into doing what he was doing." You took a step closer to him, sparing a glance at every person in the room before focusing back on Fury. "I. Fixed. It. You're welcome."
Fury scoffed, a small, slightly mocking smile coming to his lips. "Oh, you fixed it? Just snatched the bad out of him then?"
"There was an enchantment, a connection to the same person who tortured him into obedience,"
"Tortured?" You heard Thor wonder quietly.
"I reached into his mind and severed it, just like you brought me here to do." You finished.
"I brought you here to fix the people he messed up, our people. Not him," Fury argued back, again pointing a finger toward Loki's general direction in the Helicarrier.
"So is he not worth saving?" You asked quietly, tilting your head slightly sideways with furrowed brows. It was rhetorical, and he knew. You held his gaze for a while longer, daring; until you turned to look at Loki's scepter that now rested on a table near the windows; "the plague in his mind came from that," you nodded towards the weapon, "I suggest you get it as far away from us as possible, it's not worth the trouble."
"It- it makes sense," Bruce spoke up for the first time, adjusting his glasses as he took a single step forward. "Loki had used the scepter to mind control people, it's not farfetched to think he would be under the same fate." He shrugged.
You met his eyes and gave him a grateful nod, noticing the way Natasha also raised a brow in agreeance.
The tension inside the laboratory lay thick in the air, conflicting opinions charged it with electricity and gave you goosebumps. You crossed your arms over your chest to create some sense of self-reassurance. "When I freed Loki's mind, I cut his connection to the alien army he would bring to Earth. He has no means of doing it now, no location to open a portal to. It's over."
There was a beat of silence, everyone exchanged curious glances with each other. Yet you could see Bruce breathing out a sigh of relief, a smirk appearing on Tony's face as he gave you a sneaky wink, and a new look of concern crossing Thor's face.
Fury was still very much pissed at your actions, but as he glared at you, you could feel just a smidge of pride in there too.
"I'm sorry," you said, voice gentle. "I did what I felt was right."
Tony came up to you then, he laid a hand on your shoulder and squeezed. "Good job, but never do something like that again. Or you're gonna give him a heart attack," he gestured at Fury, who only told him off with a gesture of his hand.
All you did was close your eyes and nod. You couldn't know if your decision had actually been the right call or not, but what was done was done.
And when Clint and the others attacked the Helicarrier, you were able to free their minds pretty easily before too much damage was done. Clint was lightheaded and tired, but he knew enough to point agents to the location where Selvig was being held. The dust started to settle then.
─── ·❆· ───
Now that Loki's plan was no longer a threat, the scepter had already been moved to a facility on the other side of the ocean, and the Tesseract had been recovered, the only problem that remained was; what to do with Loki.
You sat at the round glass table in the Helicarrier's main control room, sunken in your chair and fumbling with the long sleeves of your cardigan while your teammates discussed Loki's fate. You tried to keep to yourself, feeling as if you had already drawn too much attention today as is.
You couldn't help but notice the different energy in the room, however; all the other agents walking about and between the rows of computers were much calmer than they had been this morning. The glow of a setting sun seeped through the huge main windows at the front with an air of tranquility.
This was your doing, at least partially. You'd always been one for helping people, but never at the expense of your own safety. Yet today you'd put that on the line, and it turned out okay. It began to feel selfish that you'd kept your abilities to yourself for so long, when maybe you could be using them for good.
The god of mischief himself had been… quiet. Strangely quiet. You kept glancing at the displayed image of him near the control panels; he still sat on that same bench inside the glass cage, slumped against the wall, and staring at nothing. It brought more questions than answers to you—for a second you panicked with the thought that you'd somehow broken his mind, but then you remembered who he was, a god. Part of you wished you could go in there again to see him. Of course, that was most definitely not an option anymore.
You still couldn't place why you cared about what would happen to him at all. You came, and you fixed people's minds. Your work here was done.
So why did you feel like it wasn't?
Thor was in the middle of an argument with Fury about how his brother was, in fact, not evil incarnate when you finally spoke up; "Why not keep him here?"
There was silence, and everyone's eyes were immediately on you again. You cursed under your breath. You should probably start thinking before you speak.
"Excuse me, I thought we'd just agreed on no more shit ideas from you," Tony pointed a finger at you as he spoke, with an eyebrow raised at your audacity.
You shrugged, "It's just a thought, okay? Loki sees humans as below him, he wanted to rule over our planet," you reasoned, "Well, make him learn his lesson here, live in our shoes, and see that he's not above us."
Tony narrowed his eyes at you, "Have you been drinking?"
You gave him the middle finger with a deadpan look.
"I must agree with the lady," Thor finally spoke again, his gaze cautiously shifting from you, to Tony, to Fury, "It was only after I was stranded here on Earth that I truly understood the purpose of being worthy."
"And how exactly do you suppose we do that?" Fury scoffed, leaning back on his chair, "Keep him on a leash, tell him to sit down, and just hope he doesn't retaliate?"
"That would be a sight," Natasha mumbled against the rim of the coffee mug she held, before taking a sip.
Thor seemed to be in deep thought for a moment, and then; "I can speak to my father, Odin, he should be able to help with keeping Earth safe from Loki's tricks."
"Am I the only one who feels a little uneasy about allowing the guy who just threatened to bring an army to our planet, to stay?" Steve looked from one end of the table to the other, gauging everyone's reactions.
"No, you are not," Fury spoke matter of factly, making sure to throw you a glare in the process.
"I for one want him as far away as possible," Clint grumbled from his place leaning against the wall.
"I don't love the idea either," Bruce joined in for the first time since you all sat down, "But she singlehandedly prevented a possible war, people," he gestured toward you, "I think it's worth considering her idea."
You sat up straighter, leaning your elbows on the table, "I can keep an eye on him myself if you let me. I'm pretty sure I would be able to feel it if he tried anything more… severe."
Everyone exchanged glances in silence, all of them holding the same apprehension.
"I shall speak with my father," Thor decided, "And if he assures me that Loki would not be a threat if he were to stay, then you can decide."
─── ·❆· ───
When Thor came back with the news that Odin would, in fact, be able to completely strip Loki of his powers for an undetermined amount of time, things were pretty straightforward from there.
Without his seiðr, Loki would be like any other human. Easy enough to contain. So with a bit of united convincing from both yourself and Thor that the best course of action would be to keep Loki here, on Earth, so he could serve his sentence living amongst the very people he wished to rule over, your teammates eventually—albeit some of them begrudgingly—relented.
Loki's progress would be tracked and monitored regularly, and he'd only be able to leave Earth once he atoned for his mistakes and the lives he took. You'd maybe even go as far as calling it a rehabilitation program—though he'd probably actually kill you if you told him that.
Fury was not exactly pleased, you could feel the tension flowing off of him when the decision was made, but he wasn't totally opposed either. The fact that he would also be keeping a close eye on Loki was a given. More than anything, he didn't like the idea of you being involved, yet you suddenly had the urge to prove to him that you could handle this, that you were capable of it.
And Tony was… a whole other story.
"No. Nope. And have I said… absolutely not?" He spoke matter-of-factly, putting on his sunglasses even though he was still inside the Helicarrier, more specifically in the kitchen.
"Think about it, Tony," you followed after him as he opened cabinet after cabinet, looking for the mugs. "Your tower is the safest building in all of New York, if there is a right place for us to keep an eye on him, while also making sure he actually goes out and sees our world, it's there." You opened the cabinet to your left and pulled out a mug, handing it to Tony.
He paused, looking from the mug, to you, and back to the mug before snatching it from your hand. "All I'm hearing is that you wanna bring a lunatic, self-absorbed diva into my home."
You held yourself back from rolling your eyes. "I told you, I'll be the one watching him, don't you trust me?"
Tony filled his mug to the brim with black coffee and then turned to you, raising his sunglasses. "You said it yourself, you're not the hero type." He stepped closer, observing you, "You once told me you wanted nothing to do with this world, with your abilities even." He paused, looking you straight in the eye, "What changed?"
Your lips hovered yet no words came out. You didn't know. He was right, this wasn't your world. Risking your life for the sake of others was not you. And yet you felt this pull on your heartstrings every time you so much as thought about all the pain you'd felt inside Loki; all the memories, the torture, and the cries for help that no one answered.
You realized that perhaps the reason why you cared about Loki's fate, was because if not you, it seems like there would be no one who would. Not even Thor, not in the way Loki needed.
A sigh went past your lips. "You don't know what I saw when I was in his mind, Tony. What happened to him, I-" You briefly avoided his eyes, shrugging halfheartedly. "He's hurting, I just want to give him a chance." Stark knew you too well, there was no point in lying.
A low groan escaped Tony and he took a generous sip of his coffee, "Damn you and your heart and those puppy eyes," he mumbled, then said more clearly; "Alright, if we're doing this, it's on you, you hear me? You're gonna be responsible for him, if he hurts someone, or worst of all, damages my tower, I'm holding you accountable."
You grimaced and nodded once, holding back a chuckle; "You make it sound like I'm adopting a feral cat."
Tony raised a finger at you, "Keep that thought, treat it like it, and you might just succeed."
─── ·❆· ───
The sun was high and bright in the sky when you landed the quinjet on an empty, grassy field where the Allfather himself would come to see Loki. You sat on one side of the jet, beside Fury; Thor and Loki sat on the other side, the latter wearing handcuffs and a muzzle; Tony was in the driver's seat.
Even though Loki couldn't speak, he glared at you the whole way. His piercing gaze made the entire trip a complete nightmare because you couldn't relax at all.
But at last, you had arrived. The back doors of the jet lowered open, allowing for the bright sunlight to seep in and make you squint until your eyes adjusted.
You walked out first, closing your eyes and taking a deep breath in as soon as your boots touched the grass. The smell of trees and the sunlight on your skin had never felt so good after being cooped up inside an airship for so long.
Your teammates followed after a moment later, Thor guiding Loki by the arm. The brothers walked ahead on the extensive field while you, Tony, and Fury hung a few steps back. No words were exchanged, the only acknowledgment given was a shared nod between Thor and Fury.
There was a sudden burst of light coming from the sky that made you flinch, and when it disappeared—leaving an intriguing burnt mark on the grass in its wake—Odin and Frigga stood before Thor and Loki. Even from a little far away, you could feel Loki's heart rate spiking immediately.
Thor finally removed Loki's muzzle, and the trickster opened and closed his mouth in relief.
"Loki…" Frigga breathed, taking half a step towards them. You felt a little bad for prying, yet you couldn't help but tune yourself to their emotions and thoughts. His mother held sympathy and worry in her gentle heart, she seemed anxious to reach out for him.
"Hello, mother," Loki spoke for the first time, his voice hoarse, "Have I made you proud?"
You clenched your fists before burying your hands in your pockets. The pain clouding Loki's heart still persisted, you wondered how he lived with it so seamlessly; on the outside, at least.
"Please, don't make this worse." Frigga pleaded to her son.
Loki tilted his head to the side; "Define 'worse'."
"Enough," Odin spoke up, his voice grave and commanding. He held his chin high, as if looking down upon Loki.
"I really don't see what all the fuss is about," Loki chuckled lightly, gesturing with his cuffed hands.
"Do you truly not feel the gravity of your crimes?" Odin shot back, his golden armor shining under the sun, "Wherever you go there is war, ruin, and death."
Loki kept a smirk on his lips, seamless. But you were able to sense the stumble in his heartbeat, the catch of air in his throat. It cut deep. Yet Loki believed the words said to him to be true, even if they hurt him.
"I came here to rule the people of Earth as a benevolent god. Just like you," Loki told him easily.
Thor sighed and shook his head, clasping his hands together in front of his body.
"We are not gods. We are born, we live, we die. Just as humans do." Odin stated.
"Give or take 5000 years," Loki shrugged halfheartedly.
Odin shook his head, "All of this because Loki desires a throne." His voice held no emotion, as if this were nothing more than an inconvenience on his day.
"It is my birthright," Loki said in the same heartbeat.
"Your birthright was to die," Odin raised his voice, it echoed until it reached the trees far away. "As a child, cast out onto a frozen rock."
You had to gulp back a sudden lump in your throat, your eyes burned. You felt Loki's pain as if it was your own, and yet, when he finally kept quiet under the weight of his father's words, you knew you weren't feeling even half of it.
Loki's actions towards Earth shouldn't be excused, no. But you already knew that this ran much deeper than simply what happened on your planet.
And while beside you Tony muffled a chuckle at the sight of Loki being chastised by the Allfather, you held back tears.
You took a moment to focus on Odin then, he was difficult to read, but you sensed disdain and indifference there. Loki was more burden than son to him.
"If I am for the axe, then for mercy's sake," Loki breathed with a half smile, "just swing it."
His words sent a chill down your spine.
A beat of silence passed, the only sounds being the distant singing of birds and a soft breeze ruffling the grass and leaves. Odin took a single step forward, still towering over Loki, who also refused to lower his head.
"Frigga is the only reason you remain alive." The words calmly fell from Odin's mouth.
Loki locked eyes with his mother and drew in a sharp breath. You had a feeling he had something to say, but didn't.
"The people of Midgard have made an offer, and you will accept, as did I."
The eyes of the god of mischief turned back to Odin when he continued talking, now glinting with new curiosity.
"You will remain here, living peacefully amongst the ones you once wished to rule over." Odin's tone left no room for argument, "You will be stripped of your powers and shall remain in exile until you have atoned for all your mistakes and crimes."
Loki scoffed and stumbled backward, his lower lip trembling and bright eyes shining with unshed tears. He argued back just as fiercely; "You cannot be serious. This is outrageous, a disgrace, I will not accept-"
"You have been given the most generous offer you could ever hope for," Odin once again raised his voice over Loki's, his patience wearing thin, "Were it up to me, you would be locked up in the dungeons of Asgard for eternity, and I will make sure that is your fate if you dare disobey my orders."
Loki's breath came out in shaky puffs, he desperately looked from Odin, to Thor, until he settled on Frigga. "Mother…" The word was nothing but a quiet plea, for what, you doubt even he knew.
The panic coursing through Loki's body was nearly sending you into a panic. You had to avoid your gaze from him for a moment to breathe, telling yourself that this was the best for him even if he didn't believe it yet.
"It is decided!" Odin exclaimed. He raised a hand towards Loki then, speaking vehemently; "I now take from you your power, your seiðr." The skies rumbled in the distance and the wind around you picked up speed. "In the name of my father and his father before!" The armor Loki still wore slowly fell from his body and clattered to the ground in broken pieces, leaving him in only black pants and a long-sleeved dark green shirt.
Silent tears cascaded down Loki's cheeks, his eyes fixed on the ground.
"You will remain here," Odin spoke with finality, "Indefinitely." And with that, he harshly turned around and walked away.
The silence that lingered then was an unbelievably heavy one. Loki refused to raise his eyes, even when Frigga walked towards him. She raised a hand and gently touched Loki's cheek, a melancholic smile painted her features. "Be well, my son," she whispered to him before turning around as well.
And with another flash of light, they were gone.
You were stunned into silence. Trying and failing to wrap your mind around what you'd just witnessed. You couldn't take your eyes off Loki's broken form, heart thundering against your chest. He looked so… small, cuffed hands shaking heavily, hair askew, and clothes so bare compared to his armor from just a moment ago.
A joyfully impressed whistle came from beside you and captured your attention. "That's one way to start the day," Tony commented with an over-exaggerated grimace, "Right, let's get moving, people. I have to be in the city in half an hour." He started towards the jet as if it was just another Thursday.
Thor looked over his shoulder to Loki, undoubtedly feeling at least part of the weight of what just happened, "Come on, brother."
Fury slowly turned away and followed Tony as well. You, however, stayed glued to the ground, heavy wind ruffling your hair.
You watched as Loki took staggered steps behind Thor, seemingly still trapped in the daze of what would be his new reality. That is, until he raised his gaze and locked eyes with you. His expression turned stone cold, colder even than how it had been when you'd gone visit him in the glass cage.
"You," Loki hissed through gritted teeth, his steps grew larger and quicker toward you with a newfound urgency, eyes burning with raw anger; "This is all your fault. If you hadn't interfered I wouldn't be-"
Loki was abruptly cut off by Thor's hand colliding with his chest and stopping him in his tracks. The god of thunder came to stand between you and his brother, eyes just as stern; "Must I remind you, brother," Thor spoke gravely, "That if you so much as consider harming anyone here, it's straight to Asgard's dungeons."
A scoff went past Loki's lips as he took a step back from Thor. They held each other's gaze for a beat, until Loki pursed his lips and shook his head. "How far have we fallen," he whispered, before walking past Thor.
Loki made sure to harshly bump into your shoulder as he walked by you and towards the waiting jet.
You stumbled in your stance but remained frozen in place. "Oh boy," you breathed, eyes wide with the realization of what you had just gotten yourself into, "This will be fun."
⋆* ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ
Read ch 3 here
Thank you for reading this little story. Feedback and reblogs are literally what keeps me motivated to continue posting here, so I’d appreciate it if you could take some time to reblog and comment. <3
You do not have permission to repost, copy, or translate my works on any platforms (even with credit), please respect.
tangle me in all your broken pieces (and watch me stay) | ch 1
Loki x Reader
Summary: An Asgardian god has just threatened your planet and you were called in to provide a little help. What you didn't expect was to develop a strange soft spot for said god, who hid more pain behind his cold facade than you thought possible.
A/N: Yes, this is chapter one. Yes, there are going to be more chapters. But one important thing to keep in mind with this particular series, is that the updates will not have a fixed schedule. This is a story I will update whenever I have time to write in between my other projects. Anyhow, I do hope you enjoy this random idea I had. <3
Word count: 4,2k
Masterlist
Fury came looking for you as a fail-safe. That was the simple way of putting it.
One of S.H.I.E.L.D's facilities had recently been attacked by someone who came from outside of your world; he'd taken what Fury called the Tesseract, twisted the minds of Agent Barton and Doctor Selvig, and worst of all, threatened to take over Earth. So when Fury came knocking on your door, on a rainy Saturday, you didn't have many options other than agreeing.
Rain pattered on the windows of your small apartment, the weather was rather cold today. You picked up two mugs from the cabinet, placed a bag of tea on each, and added hot water.
"I need you with me," Fury told you, taking the mug you handed to him.
You sighed, taking a seat on the armchair of your living room, "you're putting together a group of heroes. I'm not a fighter, uncle Fury, you know that."
"And I'm not asking you to be," he shook his head softly, leaning forward to place his mug on the coffee table after he took a sip, "if anything, I'll make sure to keep you away from any fights." He looked at you for a beat, and then; "but Loki has messed with the mind of one of my best agents, I cannot take that risk again, and you're the only one who can make sure it doesn't happen. Or fix it, if it does."
With that, you couldn't argue.
Your powers were something you had never asked for, never wanted, they simply happened. Your fourteen-year-old self woke up one day being able to pry into people's minds at will. You could feel their feelings if you wanted to, search recent memories if you focused long enough, and occasionally, do or fix much heavier damage. The full extent of what you could do was still somewhat of a mystery, now and then you caught yourself doing or feeling something new; just like that day when a stray cat had scared the shit out of you and you ended up exploding the can of soda on your hand.
After that incident a couple of years back, you had agreed to let S.H.I.E.L.D. study you just long enough to find out you had something along the lines of psychokinetic and telepathic abilities. Fury then had also told you that your big heart had given you empathic abilities as well; it was intended as a lighthearted joke, but you weren't so sure it was a joke anymore.
Because right now, you could feel hints of Fury's desperation just by looking at him. You nodded, "Yeah, alright. Give me a few minutes to pack."
─── ·❆· ───
S.H.I.E.L.D's Helicarrier was impressive, to say the least. It was an enormous aircraft that could literally disappear in a matter of seconds. Your nerves were still high even though you'd been aboard for a few days.
The main control room was the heart of the hive, so to speak. The place where most agents walked back and forth between the rows of computers, all overlooking the massive glass windows at the front of the aircraft. You stood just behind Fury's main control panels, leaning back on the big glass table. "Will Tony be coming too?" Your eyes roamed over the hustle and bustle of agents around you.
"He will," Fury didn't take his eyes off of the screens as he spoke, "was supposed to arrive with agent Romanoff, but we all know he likes his entrances."
A fond chuckle escaped you. Tony was a friend, you'd met him a few times because of Fury, he'd been a great help in figuring out your… condition, and you kept close contact with him ever since.
Out of the big windows in front of you, you watched as the ocean slowly drifted from view the higher you went into the sky. You could feel the familiar tingle in your stomach as you gained altitude fast. Maria Hill approached Fury not long after, informing him you were high enough to disappear, and so you did.
The sound of footsteps caught your attention and you turned around to see Natasha, Steve, and Doctor Banner walking in. A small frown appeared on your features when Steve handed ten dollars to Fury, but you didn't comment on it.
"Doctor Banner," Fury walked up and extended his hand for Bruce to shake, "thank you for coming."
The scientist looked around with the eyes of someone who hadn't known real peace in a while. You could feel a heavy wave of apprehension and uncertainty coming from him. "Thanks for asking nicely," he answered.
As they spoke, you walked over to Natasha, a small smile coming to your lips, "hey Nat."
Her green eyes lit up as soon as they caught sight of you, she was already opening her arms to pull you into a hug. "Hey, how have you been?"
You hugged her back just as tight, swinging gently from one side to the other. "Alright, you?"
"Well enough," she pulled away with a smirk already on her features and bumped your shoulder with her fist. "It's nice to have you around for a change, even if it's because the world is at risk."
You raised your hands in a half-hearted gesture of surrender while biting back a chuckle, "Point taken, I promise to visit more."
Fury called for your name and you turned to him, "I don't think you've been properly introduced to Doctor Banner." He gestured to his side and you reached out to shake Bruce's hand with a polite smile. "Banner, this is my niece."
Still holding onto your hand, he raised his eyebrows in a mix of excitement and surprise. "The telepath?" He looked from you to Fury.
You pursed your lips, suddenly feeling a little self-conscious. "That's me." You wondered if the people here saw you as one of the heroes too, which of course, you were not.
"I've read your file, the range of your abilities is remarkable."
Fury placed a hand on your shoulder to catch your attention. "Why don't you show Doctor Banner the lab he'll be working on? You can entertain his curiosity then."
"Of course," you buried your hands in your pockets as you tilted your head towards the door, "follow me, Doc."
The laboratory was like a playground for scientists. Filled with all the kinds of machines and computers one could hope for, surrounded by bright white walls and even brighter artificial lights that made your eyes hurt.
As the night stretched on you ended up hanging back with Bruce in his lab. His interest in your abilities didn't die down, but you found that speaking with him about it turned out to be quite easy. He was very smart, there was no doubt about that, having extensive knowledge in areas you didn't even know existed. But he was also kind.
It didn't take long for Fury to come to inform you that they had gotten a hit on Loki's location, Germany. You shared a look with Bruce then, knowing that all there was to do now, was wait.
─── ·❆· ───
"So you can just tell what everyone is feeling all the time, and manipulate those very feelings if you want?" Bruce leaned back on one of the workstations, a look of pure bewilderment in his eyes.
You chuckled, pushing yourself up and sitting on top of one of the desks. "Well, kind of. I can feel emotions if I want to, yes. Memories even, if I can focus on the person long enough. But the manipulating part is trickier," you tried to explain to the best of your abilities, fumbling with the sleeves of your black cardigan. "I can't… take away people's emotions, feelings, but I can ease them. Dull anger, or sadness, for example. But Fury believes that if there's something else intruding on someone's mind, I'd be able to counter it. That's why I'm here."
"That's fascinating," Bruce scratched his chin in thought, "it's almost like a mix of telepathy and empathy."
You hummed, "That's been my experience, yeah."
"What about the…" Bruce gestured around, and somehow you knew exactly what he was talking about.
A smirk came to your lips. You lifted your hand, and tiny white sparks danced between your fingertips, they were barely there, looking almost like a trick of the light. Suddenly the glasses that had been resting on top of Bruce's head flew to your grasp.
A genuine laugh escaped him while he muttered; "remarkable". You couldn't help but join him as you handed him back his glasses. It felt… nice, to have someone genuinely, innocently appreciating what you could do.
Suddenly, the sight of several guards walking past the laboratory's windows caught both of your attention. In the middle of them walked a man with slick black hair, wearing some sort of armor in black, green, and golden, and a devilish smirk on his lips as he looked at you.
Your gaze locked with his for a mere second, and a gasp fell past your lips as you took half a step back. Your heart was in your throat, because even through the glass windows, you could feel an immense pain squeezing your chest and suffocating your lungs. There was raw anger there too, desperation, loss. But the pain overpowered them all. And they came from him. Loki.
You gulped, forcing your gaze away so you had a chance to breathe. "They caught him," you mumbled, still feeling lightheaded from the punch he'd just dealt to your soul.
"Yeah, they did." Bruce's voice sounded far away still.
─── ·❆· ───
Loki wasn't the only new arrival, his brother Thor was also here.
You decided to hang back while everyone discussed how to proceed, leaning against the wall of the main control room as they sat around the glass table. From the camera images displayed on the screens, you could see Loki speaking with Fury, from inside the glass cage that wasn't quite built for him; he spoke with a tone of superiority that sounded like a defense.
Thor explained something about Loki having an alien army he would bring to Earth, and that he was trying to build another portal with the help of Doctor Selvig. You heard bits and pieces, after all, you weren't here to strategize attacks. Instead, your mind drifted to what you'd felt when you briefly locked gazes with Loki. His mind seemed… messy; as if he wasn't quite the only one there.
"I don't think we should be focusing on Loki." You heard Banner say. "That guy's brain is a bag full of cats. You could smell crazy on him."
"Have care how you speak." Thor spoke up, "Loki is beyond reason, but he is of Asgard. And he is my brother."
"You mean he's never been like this before?" You finally spoke up, pushing yourself away from the wall and taking a few steps towards Thor. Your voice drew the eyes of everyone in the room for an instant. "That he's not himself?"
"Yes, Loki has always been one for mischief but never like this. My brother is not evil." The god explained.
"He killed eighty people in two days," Natasha added, raising an eyebrow at Thor.
"He's… adopted."
"I think you might be right, about him being beyond reason," you walked up to stay beside Thor, "when they brought him in I could briefly connect with his mind and… I don't know, it wasn't right."
"You mean to say he's been enchanted?" Thor looked down at you, sparks of hope dancing around him.
You could feel everyone's unwavering gaze on you as well. Your eyebrows scrunched in thought and you fumbled with your sleeves to ease the nervousness. "Kind of, yes. I felt as if he wasn't the only one in his own mind, there was something else there, twisting his thoughts and drive." You glanced up at Thor and then at your teammates around the table, "I may be able to fix it."
A rather loud call of your name captured your attention then. You turned around to see Tony Stark walking in, along with Phil Coulson.
"You always did have a heart of gold, picking up strays and insisting on fixing broken things," the billionaire said with a smile, walking up to you in that smug way only he could pull off, as he already opened his arms.
You mimicked his smile, naturally falling into his hug.
"How have you been, kid?" Tony asked while rubbing your back. He pulled away and kept a hand on your shoulder.
"Pretty good, considering an Asgardian god decided to invade my planet." You smirked back at him, stuffing your hands in your pockets.
"And now you're playing the I can fix him card, is that what I'm gathering here?" Tony pointed a finger at you, comically narrowing his eyes.
You sighed, averting his gaze, "I'm serious, Tony. If there's something invading his mind, don't you think I'd be able to counter it? That's- that's the whole reason why I'm even here."
"I think," Tony began, "you'd be able to do that, and much more. If you actually trained your abilities like I suggested-"
A groan escaped you.
"But you haven't done that, so it's a shot in the dark." He shrugged.
"If there is a chance to help my brother, I would take it," Thor spoke up, looking around to gauge everyone's reactions.
"And what if there isn't?" Steve asked, gesturing with his hands, "You said it yourself, you can't be sure. Is this a risk we're willing to take?"
"We won't be taking risks," you were quick to reassure him, taking a step forward so you were able to lean your hands on the glass table. "All I want is a chance to speak with him, nothing more for now."
"Absolutely not." Fury walked in, his steps large and meaningful as he walked up to stand before you. "You are not getting anywhere near that lunatic."
"I can accompany her to assure her safety," Thor offered.
"Thank you, Thor, but I need to go alone." You said, then turned to look up at Fury. "You called me here to help. Let me help."
Fury tilted his head, an annoyed frown coming to his lips. You knew you'd won.
"He's in pain. So much that I could feel it through the glass windows of the lab, uncle. He's not alone in his own mind. I just wanna talk to him." You pleaded. Why you suddenly cared so much about the very person who was threatening your home, you didn't know. Maybe you did have a heart that was too big for your own good.
Fury stole a single glance towards Stark, and after the latter nodded, he turned back to you. "Five minutes," he leaned just a tad closer, looking you straight in the eyes, "nothing more."
─── ·❆· ───
You closed your eyes, took in a deep breath, held it in your lungs, and then exhaled. You stared at the door that led to Loki's cell, giving yourself yet another pep talk. And then you pushed it open.
The round, glass cage was somewhat intimidating to look at. Built to contain and to kill, if needed. The artificial lights inside were bright, a contrast to the metal walls of the outside. There was a single bench in the back of the cage, but other than that, it was bare.
Loki had his back turned to you as he paced from one side to the other, hands clasped behind his back, as if waiting for something. His black and green attire stood out under the blinding lights.
Your steps were slow and quiet, you couldn't deny the racing of your heart, punching against your ribs in fear and anticipation—yet you kept an emotionless facade.
You could tell the exact moment that Loki felt your presence. He stopped pacing, waiting for a beat until, ever so slowly, he turned around to face you. His eyes were ice cold, a pale blue that made you shiver; his smirk was nothing short of devilish, worthy of a person who knew held all the cards in his hands. Loki looked at you up and down, and took a few steps forward so he stood right against the glass, as close as he could be to you. His gaze never once wavered.
"And who would you be?"
Silent. You kept silent for several moments. The nails you previously had piercing the skin of your palm in nervousness loosened their grip, a soft breath went past your lips, and your shoulders relaxed.
No, there was no reason for you to be afraid of him. Well, that would be an understatement. After all, you could easily sense the raw power and magic flowing through his veins. But that didn't instill fear in you, and neither did his empty threats. Because right now, as you finally looked him straight in the eyes, you easily slipped into his mind, his subconscious, his memories, and feelings.
More than anything, he was hurt; had been bleeding for long. But you were glad to confirm your suspicions, he was not alone in his mind; there was a plague in him, twisting and piercing into old wounds, worsening what was already there; it drove his anger and instilled fear and desperation in him for what would happen if he failed.
Looking into his eyes, you didn't feel fear. You felt sympathy.
At last, when Loki had started to look at you with a deep frown, you told him your name.
"Agent Barton hasn't told me about you." Loki's eyes roamed your features, undoubtedly determining if you were harmless or not.
"I'm afraid we aren't that close," you told him simply, keeping your voice gentle.
A low chuckle escaped Loki's lips then, "Did you come here simply by imprudent curiosity then?" He raised his chin higher. "Have you any idea who stands before you?"
You pursed your lips and took a step closer to him. His words sounded a little muffled to your ears as you struggled to focus. There was a faint burning sensation behind your eyes, a pressure in your head that spread to your entire body until it reached your fingertips. It was both familiar and unfamiliar. You'd never used your powers to this extent.
Loki had a strong mind, there was no doubt about that. Yet briefly, you could catch glimpses, a blurred array of memories even Loki tried to push away. You watched his fall from Asgard. His descent to what he thought, hoped would be the end. Until he was found. And then there were screams of pain and cries for help that nobody answered until he was forced to give up. Nothing was clear, everything twisted and scrambled, but enough to snatch your breath away and hold your heart in a vice grip.
He felt it, you know he did. The gentle whispers of you in his mind. You could tell the exact moment. All emotion and color drained from Loki's face, he took several steps back and away from you. For the first time, he wore an expression other than smug and confident. His bright eyes were wide and glimmering under the artificial lights, lips hovering open and quivering. It was a blink, a fraction of a second and then he was back in control.
"How dare you?!" He all but growled, fists closed tightly on either side of his body as erratic breaths went past his lips and nostrils. "Who do you think you are to try and pry into my mind?"
You felt as if there were cotton balls in your throat as you gulped, your vision went a little blurry. You shouldn't be feeling this way for someone who had literally threatened your home, but all you could hear right now was that same voice of his, begging for mercy.
Without a physical connection, Loki was able to keep you out of his mind pretty easily.
You sighed heavily, closing your eyes for a beat to recompose. You looked up at him then, unable to help the softness of your features. "What happened to you?"
Loki hesitated, even though he tried to hide it. He blinked, stumbling over his words; "I think you should be more worried about what I will do to you and everyone you've ever loved, you insolent, pathetic mortal."
His threats were emptier than you thought they would be. He felt exposed and was desperately trying to defend himself.
You shifted your gaze to the cameras around the room, biting into your cheek while you considered just how stupid and reckless it was what you were about to do. With your mind, you turned the lock on the door you'd just come from. In one swift stride forward, you were able to flatten your palm against the glass walls that held Loki; and with just a bit of struggle, you had him pushed and pinned against the bench on the far side of the cage.
"What do you think you're doing?" Loki snapped, he fought against the invisible force holding him, trying to get up and lift his hands, but to no avail. "Release me this instant."
"Sorry," you walked backward, keeping your eyes on him until you reached the control panel and pushed the button that opened the glass cage, "can't do that."
"If you think for one minute that your sorry excuse of magic can hold me down-"
"I know I can't." You told him as you carefully walked inside with him. He was strong, much stronger than you, and sooner or later he'd overpower you. "Not for long at least." You stood in front of him, looking down at his enraged form sitting down on the bench. "But maybe just long enough."
Right now, as Loki looked up at you with nothing but anger in his cold eyes, his lips in a thin line, and his eyebrows pulled together; you could say you felt a little scared.
Slowly, you raised both hands. Your fingers shook as you halted your movements just short of touching him. "I promise I just want to help you," you told him quietly, your eyes never leaving his.
"I will make you regret ever walking into this room," Loki spoke through gritted teeth, the muscles on his neck straining as he tried to break free.
"Maybe," you breathed, struggling to keep him in place, before unceremoniously cupping both his cheeks with your hands.
Loki opened his lips to, most likely, throw another insult at you, yet his words died in his mouth.
With your skin touching his, your soul entangling with his, you were finally able to enter his mind freely. You closed your eyes and made quick work of dissipating the plague infesting his brain, severing the connection he had with the creature that had tortured him, and freeing his subconscious from its influence and enchantment. It was harder than you wished and easier than you expected, pulling at the strings of your heart while you worked your power through him, but it was done. Loki's body was still healing from what they'd done to him, and now his mind would follow.
You also couldn't hold yourself back from dulling his pain and anger while you were at it. Trying to offer just a bit of peace to his troubled soul.
You opened your eyes again with a heavy gasp escaping your lips. Your lungs lacked air and you could taste copper on your lips. Blinking several times, you took a single glimpse at your faded reflection on the glass walls and noticed that a steady line of blood was trickling down your nose. You'd nearly gone past your limits.
With your hands still holding onto Loki, you risked a look down at him.
It was like a wave washing to shore, soft and calm after a heavy storm. His eyes slowly faded from a pale blue to a gentle green, glistening under the light, pupils blown wide as he kept his gaze fixed on you. A soft breath went past his lips and his eyebrows softened, it was as if for a brief moment he forgot where he was, and simply basked in the absolute relief of having his mind finally free. He stood bare before you.
A single tear trickled down his cheek and landed on your thumb. You brushed it away tenderly, and you thought he almost leaned into your touch. He blinked lazily then, and you saw his walls gradually coming back up.
You felt lightheaded, and with Loki coming back to himself, you took it as your cue to leave him.
Stumbling on your feet, you made your way out. You pushed the button and closed the glass door again.
Loki hadn't moved, even though you were not holding him in place anymore. He stayed seated, knuckles white as he gripped the edge of the bench and kept his gaze ahead, unfocused.
Once again, you touched the glass wall with your fingertips. It was indeed pathetic, that you felt a surge of protectiveness, of worry even, for the god who had threatened your planet.
"For what it's worth," you began quietly.
Loki's eyes drifted up to your face. His expression unreadable.
"I'm sorry for what you've been through." With that, you gave him a tight-lipped smile, and left.
⋆* ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ
Read ch 2 here
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The Dos & Don'ts of Fake Dating | E.M. x reader | pt. 12
[chap eleven] | [all chapters here]
Story Summary: You propose a crazy idea to the resident freak of Hawkins, Eddie Munson. But maybe he was even crazier for agreeing to it…
notes & tropes: fem reader, slooow burn, faking dating, opposites attract, bratty rich bitch reader, super minor revenge plot, dysfunctional family dynamics, idiots-to-lovers
a/n: We're back people!!! This chapter has some big ol' drama that I wasn't expecting to write, but boy do I love every moment of it. This is also a little heavy on the ~*~ice princess family lore~*~, so... sorrynotsorry, I guess? This stemmed from my friend and I bemoaning people being mad at ice princess, and then the idea spiralled from there. Can't wait to see what y'all think!
wc: 8.0k
Chapter Twelve
Waking up to the sunlight streaming in through a window, you grunted in annoyance at its offending rays - you always loathed waking up with the sun, preferring all curtains to be drawn while you slept. Your ears began to instantly ring with a headache, and you burrowed deeper into the blankets, curling into a tight ball and twisting your face into a childish furrow.
God, you felt awful. Not even conscious for a full minute, and you already felt like complete shit; this hangover was instantly relentless, drumming in your skull and causing intense pressure behind your eyes. You were so not looking forward to the rest of the day - just your luck, you’d be battling this hangover well into the evening, hell, maybe even into tomorrow.
You realized amidst your suffering that you weren’t lying in your comfortable bed, the surface beneath you too rigid and bumpy, the blankets too scratchy, the pillow too flat. Considering that you were out at a party all night, you weren’t at all surprised that you ended up asleep elsewhere, so you didn’t bother opening your eyes to gauge your surroundings. No, your only concern right now was getting at least a few more hours of shut eye, but the aching of your body and the pressure in your skull was sure to deprive you of that small joy.
With incoherent grumbles and sighs, you tried to get comfortable again, but everything was working against you - the material of your clothes was suddenly unbearable, the makeshift bed you were in was rock hard, the sunlight was too bright despite the blankets pulled over your head. This was going to be absolutely unbearable. You knew better than to drink that much, and yet you did it anyway, like you always seemed to.
Hell, you couldn’t even remember anything past your impromptu walk with Eddie. You vaguely recalled dragging him to his feet and insisting that you needed to work off some of your energy and clear your head, and apparently drunk-you decided a hike around the lake was the best way to manage that. You could remember snippets of the walk - you were sure you spoke about your parents, that at some point you two sat alone by the bonfire. But everything from that point on was completely lost to you - you’d have to ask Eddie to fill in the blanks, unless he was also so drunk that he forgot what happened.
As you thought about your partner-in-crime, your expression furrowed thoughtfully, so with an exhausted sigh, you stuck your head out of the blankets just enough to open your eyes and peer around. For a few long moments, your vision was just a blur, the glare of the sunlight proving to be anything but helpful; once your eyes had finally adjusted, you were staring at a wall - more specifically, the interior of Eddie’s van.
You two slept in the van? Shit, that explained why your body was so achy, you had barely any cushion between you and the rough metal floor. With another histrionic sigh, you attempted to roll onto your back, but your shoulder almost immediately met Eddie’s solid body, preventing you from moving. So, instead, you turned your head to look at him, the two of you practically nose-to-nose. Despite yourself, your cheeks grew a touch warm; you weren’t quite spooning, but you may as well have been considering how close you were, how Eddie’s legs curled up a little behind yours.
Given your proximity, it was challenging to even get a good look at Eddie’s face, but you nonetheless studied him for a brief couple of moments - his curls were in his face again, tempting you to push them back, but his expression seemed restful. As you stared at him, the assault of your hangover faded away for a split second, but it just as quickly came back, the drumming in your skull growing more aggressive. Your face twisted again as you turned forward, trying to settle back down under the blankets as your brain rattled. As you curled the sheets around you, you accidentally bumped Eddie with both your shoulder and your rear, your heel booting him in the shin, but he didn’t stir even slightly at any of the disturbances. So, you relaxed with a deep sigh, allowing yourself to rest back against him.
Eddie’s steady breathing against your ear was surprisingly perfect white noise, your eyes fluttering shut as your body slowly relaxed. Despite the headache and the ringing ears, you managed to fall asleep again in a huddle of blankets and limbs beside him.
The rest felt short-lived, however, with Eddie eventually jolting awake, as if he’d been falling in a dream. The sudden motion, of course, awoke you instantly, and with a startled look you turned towards Eddie, your head spinning wildly from the quick motion; you squeezed your eyes shut and pressed your hands to your head as you waited for your brain to settle back down. Once you opened your eyes again, you met Eddie’s confused gaze; your close proximity caused his eyes to cross briefly as he focused on you, and you watched as the cogs slowly turned in his head. Despite how deeply he’d been sleeping, he still looked exhausted.
“You okay?” You asked hoarsely, cringing at the sound of your own quiet voice. Eddie still seemed confused for a moment, but he nodded slowly, looking around the van with a furrow that suggested his ears were ringing just as badly as yours.
Eddie slumped back onto his makeshift pillow with a moan, closing his eyes as his breathing mellowed out. You lazily leaned your head against his shoulder, your slow inhales and exhales beginning to synchronize with his as you stared up at the ceiling. You could feel his body tense a little, so you shuffled away a few inches - you were never a touchy person to begin with, so that small act of leaning against him was strange even to you.
For a few long minutes, you both lied there in silence, neither of you quite ready to act human considering your hangovers. You eventually looked at Eddie again, watching his expression - he’d go from calm to afflicted, from disoriented to content. He most definitely wasn’t doing good right now, and he was probably trying to recall the missing parts of the evening as well.
You inhaled deeply as Eddie finally turned his head to look at you again, his expression contemplative as he studied you. The corner of your mouth pulled up in a lazy smirk, causing Eddie to stare thoughtfully at your lips long enough that it made you squirm. You bit the inside of your cheek, growing edgy under the acuteness of Eddie’s eyes; there was something about his stare that was a little too intense for your liking, so you looked away again to calm yourself.
“Hungover?” Your voice croaked again, but you felt the need to say something - Eddie being quiet was uncommon, and in this moment it made you a little anxious. Eddie simply hummed in confirmation, the sound gravelly much like his morning voice. You took a breath, feeling mild annoyance although you knew it was unwarranted, “Me too.”
Eddie’s gaze still burnt into you, and it was beginning to grow irritating - again, you shouldn’t have let his silence bother you, but there was something about it that you didn’t like. Or maybe you were just feeling bitchy because you were hungover. So, with a tired frown, you looked back at Eddie, giving him something of an irked look. He seemed to realize it was in reaction to his silence, so his expression softened as he took a moment to collect himself.
“Sorry…” He grumbled in a small tone.
You offered a grin, unable to stay annoyed with Eddie considering that you both felt like total crap right now. But nonetheless there was a tension between you two that you couldn’t quite place, so you attempted to tease, “You get grouchy after a night of drinking?”
Eddie smiled back, although the look didn’t quite reach his eyes, which flicked back down to your lips, “I think I drank my weight in booze.”
Your smile grew a little wider. You pressed the palms of your hands onto your forehead as if that would alleviate some of the hangover pains you were feeling, closing your eyes again, “Then I must’ve had double mine.”
Eddie huffed out a laugh, and you two lied there in silence for a few long beats.
“Why are we in the van?” You asked while opening your eyes, though you kept your hands hovering over them as if to block out the sun. A surprised confusion crossed Eddie’s face, a reaction that felt a little bigger than necessary considering your seemingly harmless question.
He licked his chapped lips, blinking rapidly as he tried to mask his befuddlement, “You don’t… remember last night?”
There was hesitation in the way he asked the question, and your brow knotted as you studied his face for a few moments. You didn’t always drink so much that it led to memory loss, but when it did, you were generally left in utter confusion, especially once you were told all the ridiculous things you may or may not have done while intoxicated.
“Last thing I remember was… walking? We went on a walk or something, right?” Eddie nodded, the despondent look in his eyes nearly distracting. As you considered it, worry washed over you, and you felt embarrassed without knowing the reason why, “Oh god, don’t tell me I did something stupid. Your face is saying I did something stupid.”
At that comment, Eddie’s cheeks grew pink, and the quick shake of his head wasn’t particularly convincing even as he answered, “Nothing stupid.” You narrowed your eyes a little, so he nervously elaborated, “We talked a lot. Probably about stuff you wouldn’t have said sober.”
You hissed under your breath, knowing that you could be a handful when you drank. You looked up at Eddie through your lashes, tempted to ask for him to explain what exactly you talked about, but at the same time you weren’t sure if you actually wanted to hear. At least not yet. The knowing look in Eddie’s eyes suggested that he remembered nearly everything about last night, but wasn’t about to share unless asked. So, of course, you assumed the worst of yourself, trying to go down the list of all the wild things you’ve done in the past during a night of drinking - did you repeat any of those habits, or did you do something worse?
With a sigh, you tugged the blanket back up over your head, as if hiding would relieve you of the shame you may have caused yourself last night. You heard Eddie laugh to himself at the action, and although he couldn’t see your face you glared in his general direction.
“You really don’t remember anything?” Eddie asked as if he were seeking a specific response, clearly aware of something you weren’t; hell, there was almost something downcast about the question. You slowly pulled the blanket down far enough to expose your eyes, looking at Eddie in question.
“Why’d you ask it like that?”
“Like what?”
“Like you’re not telling me something important.” You narrowed your eyes in scrutiny, trying to gauge Eddie’s reaction to your words. He was doing his best to play it cool, something that could’ve fooled you only a couple of weeks ago. But you’d learned enough about Eddie at this point, and when he scratched the back of his neck it confirmed that he was feeling a little edgy right now - so, that definitely was a nervous habit of his.
With a set jaw, Eddie gave you a convincing look, “Nothing to do with you.”
Your brows went up as if to ask “really” and Eddie matched the expression, an insistence in his gaze, evidently wanting you to drop the subject. As if to put you at ease, he smirked a little, and although you may not have entirely believed him, you also didn’t want to think that Eddie would lie to you about it. So, you accepted his answer, sighing tiredly as you disappeared under the blankets again; your body felt so damn heavy, and your head was spinning again.
“God, I wish I could lie here all fucking day.” You grumbled, your voice muffled slightly by the layers on top of you. You just knew that the moment you tried to sit up or move, you’d feel queasy and the drums in your head would become unbearably aggressive. Maybe you could convince Eddie to just stay here in the damn van, maybe you two could just sleep off your hangovers; you’d both probably be better for it.
Eddie shuffled around next to you; it seemed like he was also getting comfortable again, but you couldn’t be quite sure. He pulled at the blankets until he was under them with you, lying on his side and tenting the sheets with his hand so that he could continue looking at you. The lazy, tired smile on his face made you feel warm, and you nearly laughed at how silly and intimate this felt - the two of you hiding out under the sheets as if that would keep the world from ever disturbing you again. You rolled onto your side to face him, studying him as he studied you, his dark eyes continuing to linger on your lips.
“We can lie here all fucking day.” Eddie repeated your words reassuringly, causing you to grin back as your body relaxed.
“Then we’re going to - I feel like shit.” You answered while snuggling into your pillow, closing your eyes while attempting to get comfortable.
“You and me both, princess.” Eddie muttered back, as if he, too, was trying to mellow out enough to fall asleep again.
﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌
Considering that you had no idea when you woke up the first time, it was absolutely disorienting to wake up again around mid-afternoon. You’d managed to sleep most of the day away, something you’d almost never done before. Both you and Eddie were begrudging the fact that you had to return to reality, that you had to act human again and get yourselves home. You tried not to think about the lecture you’d get from your parents or how your head was still pounding or how you somehow had to be functional enough to go back to school tomorrow. All of these things were easy to ignore as you two lied there in the back of the van for a little while longer; it wasn’t until Eddie finally backed out of Rick’s driveway and began the trek back to your place that the dread began to set in.
Despite fearing you’d puke all over yourself now that you were in motion, you managed to keep it down, although Eddie had to pull over for you once when the nausea got particularly nasty. As you took deep breaths to compose yourself, you’d wished that the two of you had the forethought to grab some water and aspirin from Rick’s before leaving. As if reading your mind, Eddie pulled into a gas station a few minutes later and quickly ran in to grab bottled water, which you both promptly chugged down.
The drive was otherwise passed in relative silence - you were both fighting your headaches, so that was reason enough to stay quiet, but there was also something you observed in Eddie’s energy that seemed disinterested in conversation. You certainly weren’t going to push it, at least not today, but there was an uncharacteristic standoffishness about him that you couldn’t ignore, that got you wondering what was going on in his head. You kept staring at him, trying to recall anything about last night that could have put him in a mood, but your mind was drawing a complete, frustrating blank.
As Eddie drove through your neighborhood, a wave of disappointment washed over you - you really weren’t in the mood to face your parents, already knowing it would be bad. When Eddie picked you up last night, you practically sprinted out the door, avoiding the both of them out of fear that they wouldn’t let you go to this party. At the time, you didn’t care that you’d eventually be confronted with questions on your whereabouts, but now that it was nearly upon you, you were absolutely dreading it, cursing your past-self for putting you in this position.
So, when Eddie pulled in front of your driveway and you saw your uncle’s car there, your heart dropped into the pit of your stomach, the ringing in your ears escalating to an unbearable tone. Tom’s car meant that whatever was about to happen was far worse than you were expecting. He never came around the house on Sundays, those were his days for golfing or fishing or some equally as dumb “man” hobby; if he was here, then it meant your mom must have called him, probably in a melodramatic panic about your running off last night.
As you stared at the vehicle, your dread mounting as you began to feel queasy again, Eddie spared you a confused look, identifying your worry almost immediately. He gave your shoulder a light nudge to draw your attention back, and head-on you looked even more trepidatious than he originally thought.
“I think I’m about to be in deep shit.” You said plainly, trying to mask your hesitation. Eddie’s face twisted with confusion, obviously not aware of what you were referring to, but being nonetheless concerned for you.
“Want me to just drive off?” Eddie joked in a measly effort to put you at ease. Unfortunately, it didn’t work in the slightest, no matter how badly you wanted it to. Your brows rose in warning.
“That’s my uncle’s car.” His face dropped into a similarly worried expression, looking quickly between you and the house.
“Shit.” He didn’t need you to explain any further - having encountered your uncle while the man was on-duty, Eddie was more than aware of the kind of imposing jackass he could be.
And that didn’t even take into account how much you personally detested Tom - you loathed him for the way he talked down to you, the way he pretended to tease you when in reality he was just being cruel. Since your fourteenth or maybe fifteenth birthday, you’d made every effort to ignore him or make excuses whenever he was around; he was absolutely unbearable. How your mother could stand growing up with him, you’d never know, and you weren’t sure if you wanted to know.
As you watched Eddie - who continued to stare at the house in consideration - he suddenly hissed and shrank down in his seat, clearly being spotted by someone. You whipped your gaze back towards your house, spotting your uncle Tom in the front window with his arms crossed, clearly watching the two of you with a critical eye. You, too, couldn’t help but shrink in your seat a little, although you knew it wouldn’t do you any good.
“If I’m not at school tomorrow, assume I’m dead.” You cracked without even a hint of humor in your voice, sharing a fearful look with Eddie. You began to adjust your belongings in your arms, readying to open the door, but Eddie’s arm shot across your front to stop you, his hand resting gently atop your collarbone.
“Are you going to be okay?” You were nearly dumbfounded by the level of concern in his voice, as if somehow he knew all the unsaid hatred and fear you had of your uncle. For a few long moments, you and Eddie simply stared at each other, and you gave him an almost sad look.
“I have to be.” You responded simply, putting your hand on his arm and lowering it away from you, “Get going, Eddie, I don’t want him dragging you into this.”
“I’m supposed to just leave you to the vultures?” He was about to say something more, but his eyes flicked past you and out the window, his skin paling a little in alarm. Without looking back, your heart started pounding rapidly - you knew for a fact Eddie was looking at Tom right now.
Before you could turn to look, the passenger door was yanked open, taking you by surprise as a meaty hand grabbed your elbow. You let out an affronted sound as you steadied yourself so you wouldn’t fall right on your ass, Eddie practically leaping across the seat to assist you.“Get the hell outta here, kid.” Tom’s aggressive tone addressed Eddie as if he were scrum, while you were all too easily pulled from the vehicle. You let out a sound of frustration, yanking yourself from his hold and shaking your arm of the slight pain he caused you. You whipped around to glare at Tom, pressing back against the side of the passenger seat to keep as much distance between you two as possible.
“You can’t just drag me out of a fucking car!” You nearly surprised yourself with your fiery tone, though you seemed to always resort to aggression these days, not nearly as level headed as you once were. Tom, too, gave you a provoked look that made you shrink just a little.
“Do you know how worried your parents were!?” He retorted, his fists tightly clenched at his sides, “Another hour and we were gonna report you as a missing person to the police!” His eyes flicked back towards Eddie, making you wish you could stand tall between them like a human shield, “And you. The hell are you doing hanging around with my niece? What, being a little punk at the station isn’t enough for you?”
You spun around to give Eddie a warning look, hoping that maybe he’d speed out of here before things inevitably got ugly between you and your family, “Eddie, get out of here, please.”
He’d been staring boldly at your uncle, doing his best to hide his alarm and unease. At your insistent request, he met your eyes with a seriousness that took you by surprise, “Like hell I’m gonna leave.”
Your heart skipped anxiously, your gaze almost pleading with Eddie - this wasn’t his battle to fight, this wasn’t his problem to fix. You just wanted him to go, to pretend he wasn’t seeing the skeletons in your family closet; for a second, you felt shame that he was seeing this part of your life that you so carefully kept to yourself.
“Get in the house.” Tom spoke between his teeth, and you couldn’t help the scoff in your throat as you looked back up at him.
“You don’t have any say in what I do.” Beyond his shoulder, you could see your parents on the front step, your father with one foot forward as if prepared to approach you any minute now. Your mother stood back, biting her nails on one hand while looking around nervously, as if fearful that neighbors may be watching, “Look, I’m home, I’m fine, so will you get over it?”
“That attitude isn’t going to fly with me.” Tom’s voice was laced with venom as he crossed his arms as if to become even more imposing, “Do you know how many stupid girls go missing all because they don’t tell their families where they’re going?”
You rolled your eyes, your gaze darting between Tom and your father, who was finally walking towards you.
“I’m not a stupid girl, and I wasn’t gonna go missing.” You said insistently; at that same moment, you heard Eddie’s door open and slam shut, causing you to panic yet again. You shoved past your uncle as you saw Eddie rounding the van in your peripheral vision. You quickly put yourself between him and your family, your back to them as you put your hands up to Eddie’s shoulders, “Please don’t…”
You weren’t sure what you thought Eddie was going to do, but it nonetheless had you worried. Your family was too temperamental, too cruel, and you didn’t want him to bear the brunt of it. He didn’t need to do any of this, didn’t need to help you, and his insistence on staying with you was causing far too much confusion in your head right now.
The worried look in his eyes were nearly staggering as he looked down at you, “I can’t just let you take this--”
“All this fuss for him?” Your father’s accusatory voice forced you to turn around again, meeting his harsh glare. With all this chaos going on, you were getting fucking dizzy. Your father made a disappointed sound, shaking his head, “I don’t believe this… Are you just doing this to upset us? You run around without telling us where you are, you skip school, you talk back - all because of some drug dealing satanic punk?”
You couldn’t help the laugh that escaped you, an exasperated, pissed off sound as you threw back your head at the ridiculous generalization of the man standing behind you, “Eddie’s the most harmless person I’ve ever met. You should be more worried about him than Eddie.”
Your eyes shot towards Tom, your brows practically pointing at him with accusation. The look on his face was condescending in response, and you crossed your arms in frustration as you glared at your father again.
“Don’t be so naive.” Your uncle said cruelly, but you didn’t dare look at him again, “You’ve already upset your parents enough, but you just keep pushing. You wouldn’t be nearly so lucky if you were my kid.”
Your father shared a glance with Tom beforing looking back at you, his eyes quickly zeroing in on Eddie instead. He took an assertive step forward while pointing his finger harshly at Eddie; you took a step back, bumping into Eddie, who put his hands on the back of your arms to steady you.
“What could you and my daughter possibly have in common? What is it about you that has her so possessed that she’s insistent on acting like this?”
“Will you just leave him alone!” You interjected before Eddie could answer, again wishing that he wasn’t involved in this. Your father’s dark eyes returned to yours, “Have any of you considered he’s not at fault? Maybe I’m tired of how boring my life is and he makes it more fun than it’s been in years?”
“‘Fun.’” Your father repeated with a mocking huff.
“You couldn’t have chosen someone ‘fun’ who isn’t a degenerate?” Tom chimed in snidefully.
“As if anyone else in this town even comes close.” You reply harshly, your eyes cruel and intense, “None of you can scare me into listening to you, you know.”
You stare smartly at your uncle, making it clear his presence wasn’t appreciated; he simply stared back challengingly, a mean smirk pulling at his lips.
He leveled Eddie with a condescending look, “Let’s hope you don’t get pulled over next time I’m on duty, Munson.”
“Don’t fucking bother him.” You whined in exasperation, your head throbbing from the migraine that had rapidly grown during the course of this fight. You clenched your eyes shut as if to block it out, but that only seemed to make you feel worse.
Your mother’s voice surprised you, having not realized that she came to join you at the end of the driveway; her skittish body had been hidden by your father and uncle, “Can we all please calm down and just talk? It doesn’t have to get ugly like this.”
Her gaze looked between you and Eddie with worry; when her gaze lingered on him, she nearly looked apologetic, as if she, too, was embarrassed by him seeing the family like this.
“There’s nothing more to talk about.” You responded, but your voice was weaker, the hangover finally catching up with you. It felt like your head was spinning as you tried to just focus on your mother, your hands grasping at air as if to center yourself. You felt Eddie’s hands tighten on your arms a little, as if he could tell how you were feeling.
“Oh, this conversation is far from over.” Your father said coldly, staring at Eddie with all the disappointment he could muster, “No daughter of mine is going to keep hanging around a kid like you, so get the hell out of here before things get worse.”
The threat caused your temper to flare, and before you could stop yourself you took a step towards your father and gave him a rough shove, “What is your problem!?”
He stumbled, but steady himself with ease, the dangerous glare in his eyes nearly frightening you. Tom put an arm out to catch your father should he need to, taking a dangerous step towards you. Again, your head spun, this time accompanied by nausea that forced you to gasp for air. You pressed a hand to your forehead as if that would somehow help, doubling over with your other hand on your knee.
“Oh, god, honey.” Your mother’s voice leapt with concern as Eddie put a hand to the small of your back while the other carefully gripped your arm. You could hear voices overlapping as you tried to breathe, but it became impossible to focus as your stomach turned on you, only about to make out Eddie’s stressed voice demanding that everyone stop.
You heaved up mostly liquid and bile, the contents of your stomach splashing onto Tom’s shoes and the pavement. You struggled to breathe as snot and tears started to stream down your face, pathetic little sounds leaving your mouth between spurts of puke as your back arched like a cat. You could feel Eddie’s hand on your arm keeping you steady, shouting something at your family that you weren’t aware enough to hear, although you thought you’d heard something along the lines of “back the fuck up.” You watched as your uncle leapt back, feet and ankles filthy, his voice also shouting something unintelligible.
When you finally had a chance to breathe, you looked around at your family from your hunched position, your gaze venomous even as saliva dribbled down your chin. The feeling of Eddie’s hands kept you secured as you slowly came back to yourself, easing back up to full height with shaking breaths.
“Get me outta here, Eddie.” Your defeated tone was in stark contrast to the dark glare you shot each member of your family. You started to look up at Eddie, but quickly turned away, feeling too disgusting right now to look him in the eye. Without hesitation, he guided you back to the passenger door, making sure he was between you and your family, who actually appeared to be giving you space for the first time in this entire argument.
Once you were back in your seat and Eddie slammed the door, you watched him round over to his side, keeping his complete attention on your angry family as if he were worried they might jump in front of the van. Just in case, you reached out and locked your door, taking in the looks on everyone’s faces through the strands of hair that had fallen in your face - your father looked stunned, your mother hurt, and your uncle angry as he tried to shake the puke from his shoes.
As Eddie sped off, you wiped your chin with the back of your hand, as revolting as it felt to do. You stared at the dashboard, becoming lost in thought as your head spun, your vision blurring as you zoned out. You ran your fingers under your eyes, trying to catch any stray tears that may still be lingering there, sniffling smally in a measly attempt to regain your composure.
From the corner of your eye, you could tell Eddie kept looking over at you every time he came to a stop sign or got caught at a red light. But you refused to meet his gaze, refused to let him see just how fucking pathetic you felt right now. No one saw the ugliness of your family - none of your old friends, none of your exes. No, you all kept it a secret, pretended to be a good little cookie-cutter family when others were around, so for Eddie to be the one to actually see through the cracks dared to make you feel sick all over again.
“I’m sorry…” You muttered quietly, eyes staring ahead of you without actually seeing. Eddie sighed deeply, but you continued to keep your gaze off of him.
“You don’t have to apologize for a damn thing.” He answered, his voice equally as quiet, although stronger than yours. You were tempted to look at him, but you settled for just watching him from the corner of your eye, letting your hair act as a shield between you.
You pressed your lips tightly together, struggling to find your words, “That was fucking embarrassing; you didn’t need to see that.”
A long stretch of silence passed between you two, long enough that you finally dared to turn your attention to Eddie. His jaw was clenched and his knuckles were white on the steering wheel, his eyes looking even darker than they already were.
He couldn’t possibly be so worked up for you, could he? The thought was unfathomable, and you instantly felt undeserving of it. You never let people close enough to worry about you like this, and you loathed the idea that Eddie was pitying you, feeling sorry for you.
Just as he turned his head to look at you, you whipped your gaze forward again nervously, the back of your neck warm.
“Is that the shit you deal with?” He asked, voice both angry and sad. When you didn’t respond, he added, “There’s nothing for you to be embarrassed about.”
You could tell there was so much more that Eddie would have liked to say - the way he kept working his jaw, kept opening his mouth only to snap it shut again. His mind must have been going a thousand miles per hour, and yet he couldn’t seem to say a single thing. Much like you, although you felt more as if your brain had turned on you, as if you were so worked up and frightened of being emotional that everything within you simply turned off.
Although you hadn’t given Eddie a destination to drive to, you were nonetheless a little surprised that you ended up back at his place. You simply stared at the trailer as Eddie climbed out of the van, coming back around to your side and opening the door for you; it took you another few moments before you slid out of the seat, fussing to keep your skirt in place. God, you couldn’t wait to take off this damn outfit; it was cute yesterday, when you were excited to go to a party, but today it was simply annoying and burdensome.
Eddie led you inside, his hands hovering just a couple inches from you as if he were worried you were some fragile porcelain doll. A part of you hated it, but a larger part of you was still shocked at just how kind he was being towards you, even after seeing how ugly your homelife was.
There was so much you wanted to say, and yet you couldn’t bring yourself to speak, allowing Eddie to sit the pair of you down on the edge of his mattress. He was being far too patient with you, just waiting for you to lead whatever discussion may or may not happen next. Again, you refrained from meeting his eyes, your gaze darting mindlessly around his bedroom.
After a long, tense stretch, you finally asked in a small voice, “Can I use the shower?” Eddie nodded, standing quickly as if he intended to help you to the bathroom, but you held your hands up a little in a tired surrender, “I’m okay.”
Even without looking at him, you knew he was watching you with concern. But he sighed in acceptance, letting you walk past him towards the door, “I’ll get you a change of clothes.”
You couldn’t help the very slight smile that tugged at your lips; despite how awful you felt, you found it amusing to even try to picture yourself wearing whatever silly clothes Eddie brought you. As you closed yourself off in the bathroom, you wondered if he had the same thought.
You spent what was probably an ungodly amount of time in the shower, letting the steam and the heat release everything that you’ve kept pent up from the moment you left your parents in the driveway. You tried to breathe deeply, tried to keep yourself composed, but within the safe confines of the shower, all your emotions began to spill over. Biting down on your thumb to keep your sobs in, you leaned against the wall to stay upright, your body silently wracking as salty tears mixed with the hot water.
Fuck, you couldn’t believe this. How the hell were you going to look Eddie in the eye, knowing that he’d seen the way your family behaved? He probably thought you were all so damn pathetic, so damn dysfunctional. It felt like he was in on a dirty little secret, like it would be the elephant in the room that was impossible to ignore. You were so ashamed of your family as you slowly lowered yourself to the floor, letting the water beat against your back as you tried once more to breathe slowly, steadily. For a second, you thought you may puke again, but your stomach was too empty for anything to come up.
Was it always this bad? You’d be so used to the coldness and the negativity, that you weren’t sure if it had gotten worse or if you were simply becoming more aware of it. If this is how bad it got after only a month, you were nervous to see how much worse it may possibly get as your senior year continued.
Eventually, you dragged yourself out of the shower, your limbs feeling heavy as you grabbed a towel. Your brow knotted then rose in surprise when you saw a small stack of clothes sitting atop the bathroom counter - when the hell did Eddie sneak those in here, and when he did, could he hear you trying not to cry too loud? Your neck grew hot at the thought that he heard your muffled sobs.
Once you were clad in Eddie’s old sweater and pajama pants, you appreciated how comfortable they were, tugging the sleeves down over your hands as if you were a small child. You lingered in the bathroom for a long while, watching as the foggy mirror slowly became clear again, frowning at your frail-looking reflection; you felt a wash of shame, thinking about how unpresentable you must’ve looked all day.
Taking a deep breath, you straightened your shoulders and raised your chin high, trying to shake off how feeble you looked. Brushing your wet hair back from your face, you sighed with determination, finally opening the bathroom door.
You ducked into Eddie’s room without even looking in the direction of the living room - you weren’t sure whether or not Wayne was home, but you weren’t quite ready to face other people yet if he was. Eddie must’ve been out there, because his room was empty; you slumped down onto his bed, pulling your knees up under your chin as you leaned back against the wall. Your ears perked at the sound of Eddie’s footsteps approaching the room, and you sat up a little as he stepped through the door, water in hand and a more relaxed look on his face.
You gave him a weak smile, finally able to meet his eyes as he sat next to you. Wordlessly, he offered you the glass of water, opening up his other hand to reveal a couple of painkillers. You accepted them with an appreciative look, taking a long chug from the glass before setting it aside. Your fingers drummed rhythmless atop your knees as you and Eddie stared at one another.
“You okay?” He finally asked, and your face fell a little. You shrugged as if you were unbothered, almost hoping that Eddie would simply accept that response. But he narrowed his eyes at you instead, leaning forward just a little, “You don’t have to lie to me.”
You cocked your head as you studied his features, keeping a false little grin on your lips as you answered quietly, “I’ll be fine.” Eddie hummed, looking away from you for a moment as he worked his jaw, “Are you?”
He gave you a genuine smirk, rolling his eyes fondly, “Aw, you do care.”
Your gaze lit up as your grin spread a little wider, thankful for Eddie’s ability to lighten the mood, to make you smile when you needed it. His eyes twinkled a little at your reaction, although the bouncing of his knee suggested that he was still on edge.
Eddie took a deep breath, looking you up and down thoughtfully, “I know you’re not gonna bear your soul or anything, but… you can talk to me, if you need. I’m a good listener when I want to be.”
You continued to smile keenly, so damn appreciative of him right now. You rested your chin on your knees again, taking him in, “You’re the best fake boyfriend a girl could ask for.”
“Yeah?” He looked as if he were about to laugh, but also as if the statement gave him pause, “You’re not so bad yourself.”
A doubtful look crossed your face as you rolled your eyes and teased, “Liar.”
Eddie turned toward you, crossing his legs on the bed so that his knees rested against your ankles; you glanced down at them for a moment before meeting his gaze again. His expression was furrowed with seriousness, “You know, no one’s come to my defense the way you did back there; you’re pretty ballsy, getting between me and a cop, even if he is your uncle.”
He smiled again in that easy way of his, which effectively kept you at ease. You nudged him lightly with the tip of your toes, eying him through your lashes, “Don’t make it sound so heroic…”
Eddie stared at you long enough that you began to nibble on the inside of your lips, his eyes making you timid. You weren’t sure if he was simply studying you, if he was considering something to say, or if he was waiting for you to speak again. You tried to look unaffected, tried to look as if you’d already moved on from the fight with your family, but you knew that Eddie could see right through all that falseness. These days, he knew you a little too well, but in a way you were grateful for (most of the time) - no one else could see through you quite the way he did.
With a slouch of his shoulders, Eddie caved, shaking his head at you, “Alright, princess, you’re no hero.”
His tone was intentionally unconvincing, daring you to respond. Now, you watched him fidget under your gaze, just as he’d done to you. Sincerity didn’t come easy to you, and you certainly weren’t going to pour your heart out, but you needed to make some effort. For your own sake, you needed Eddie to know that he was appreciated today - you told him to go, but instead he stayed, and that said a lot about his character. The thought of even trying to speak with total honesty made your heart drum nervously.
You opened your mouth, but hesitated for a moment, causing him to raise a curious brow. So, you licked your lips and looked down briefly, saying simply, “Thank you, Eddie.”
He didn’t need you to elaborate, didn’t need you to go down the laundry list of things that you were referring to - the way he held your gaze and nodded back spoke volumes. The weighty look on his face made it clear that he knew you were thanking him for more things than you knew how to list.
Eddie gave an untroubled shrug before relaxing his shoulders, again knowing just the right balance of easiness and seriousness to keep you comfortable, his eyes shining playfully, “Ah, don’t make me sound like a hero, either.”
He reached out and set his hand on one of your knees. his fingers applying slight pressure, although the look on his face suggested it was an impulsive move, something he didn’t intend to do. You both looked between his hand and one another’s faces before he pulled back and stood, turning his back to you for a moment as he looked around his room while rubbing the back of his neck. When he met your eyes again, he grinned easily, nodding his head towards the bedroom door.
“You need anything? We haven’t eaten all day.” You smiled tranquilly, although the nervous energy surrounding Eddie is what really had your attention. To appease him, you gave a small nod, tugging at the sleeves of your sweater while relaxing back against the wall, looking him up and down slowly as if worried you would forget him once he left the room.
“Yeah, let’s eat.” Food was the last thing on your mind right now, but Eddie seemed nearly desperate to make sure you were alright, so you could appease him in this. He gave you one more charming smile as he was about to leave the room, but he came to a pause in the doorway. You watched him expectantly, assuming he had something else to say, but just as quickly as he had stopped he disappeared.
Your stare lingered on the spot he was just in, your face relaxing into a content look. You absentmindedly began to fiddle with your sleeves, your eyes lazily traveling around Eddie’s room, stopping to study band posters or clutter lying around.
You couldn’t help but feel at ease, even as your mind continued reeling over the confrontation with your parents. The whole fiasco was an easier pill to swallow thanks to Eddie and his ability to make you smile or laugh at even the most inopportune moments. And you did just that, grinning affectionately to yourself as your cheeks flushed; a warmth washed over you as you oh-so easily pictured Eddie in your head.
But suddenly that gave you pause, your expression faltering in realization that you were acting giddy over Eddie. You stared blankly at the wall across from you as your heart skipped and your chest felt heavy, exhaling slowly as you grasped what exactly was going through your head at that moment.
You felt foolish and panicked, although that seemed like a completely stupid reaction; you tried to shake yourself of the ridiculous sensation, but your heart just kept drumming rapidly. With a knotted brow, you had to wonder if this had been slowly building and if you’d just been ignoring it. Or were you too dumb to have noticed it before - the easy way you and Eddie could coexist, the shared smiles and glances and laughter, the occasional jolt when you’d bump shoulders or hold hands.
When did all of those little things start to stir something in you? Why did you suddenly have goosebumps breaking out across your arms and legs? You realized your jaw was slack, so you tightly pressed your lips together and shook your head; you ran your hands up and down your legs then along your arms, as if the goosebumps were from being cold and not from the damn epiphany you just had.
You were being ridiculous getting yourself all worked up unnecessarily. But there was no shaking your realization, no ignoring the thought now bombarding your brain. You swallowed your nerves to the best of your ability, shooting a glance towards the door as if fearful you’d be caught doing something wrong. Your foot began to bounce, in need of some way to release this stupid anxiety you were feeling.
But there was no shaking it, no ignoring it, no releasing it. And for whatever reason, that filled you with complete and utter apprehension.
Fuck… You liked Eddie.
.
.
additional a/n: Let the idiots-to-lovers shenanigans commence :)))
cw: angst, hurt/ comfort, smut, dirty talk, daddy dom eddie, oral (f &m), p in v, anal play, use of y/n, MDNI 18+
wc: 8.4k
AN: it's been a long time coming, but the last chapter is here! I've been writing this fic for a year since I posted it as an OCx Eddie. But it deserved to be a reader insert, so I revamped it for you guys. Thank you all for taking the time to read the first Eddie series I ever started. ily all. I hope you enjoyed it <3
As the last days of camp dwindled, for the first time, you found yourself overwhelmed by an intense longing to be back in Hawkins. Each day passed in a blur, leaving you feeling numb and disconnected. Despite the efforts to maintain a composed façade for the children, you were merely going through the motions.
You couldn't shake off the weight of the final exchange with Eddie, and the girls' attempts to help were in vain. Regret consumed you as you grappled with the realization that your actions had caused Eddie unnecessary pain. The thought of losing Eddie forced you to confront the need for change in your life, as you could not bear the prospect of living without him any longer.
The drive home seemed quicker than in previous years. The four hours it took to get home felt like nothing as your mind raced about how to make up for your mistake. You got over your pride quickly as you yearned for Eddie's company. You had everything you ever dreamed of, and you ruined it.
The time spent falling for one another all went to waste as you tore his heart right out of his chest when you told him this was just a summer fling. Not only did you break his heart, but you also broke your own. How could you have done this to him? How could you have let your pride take over what your heart was screaming at you to take?
Eddie was the only good thing to happen to you, the right person for you. He was kind, caring, unapologetically himself, funny, generous, looked out for others, and was light and love. You had to win him back. He was everything to you; he was the end game. So you devised a plan to get him back.
~
You’ve been home for two weeks and still have not heard from Eddie. You called him as soon as you got home, but he would let it go to the answering machine each time you called. You must have looked pathetic, begging him to talk to you. Every day, you would call once without letting up. Your sorrowful words flooded the machine so much that Eddie’s uncle Wayne was about to block your number, but Eddie stopped him.
“What’s going on with you and this girl needs to be addressed, or I’m getting a restraining order,” Wayne huffed.
He didn’t mean it, but your calls in the middle of the day woke him up since he was on the night shift. For the fifteenth day in a row, you called, the anticipation building up with every ring until you finally heard someone on the other line answer.
“Hello?” The voice was weathered and rough, nothing like your Eddie.
Have you been calling the wrong number this whole time? You got his number off Ash; she wouldn’t have had it wrong?
“H-hi,” you stuttered, not expecting any time to pick up the call, “is Eddie there?”
“No, darlin’, he’s at work. Doesn’t wanna talk to you, though. I know you keep calling, but he's busy, and I'm trying to sleep, so please stop calling.”
“Oh, I’m sorry, sir! Won’t happen again.” Your heart sinks at the reality of his words.
“Thanks”
“Sir, before you go, can you relay a message to him?”
“Sure.”
You can tell he's annoyed.
“Can you tell him that I’m so sorry and that I love him?” your voice cracked at the words.
“Sure thing,” Wayne’s voice softened. He had no idea what transpired this summer between you and Eddie, but he didn’t know love was involved until now.
“Thank you… it’s y/n, by the way.” You tried to keep your sniffles to a minimum.
“Goodbye “y/n”
~
When Eddie got home that night, Wayne was already making his version of nighttime breakfast.
“Boy, sit down,” Wayne instructed as Eddie entered their shard trailer.
“Can’t I shower first?” Eddie looks at his greased-up coveralls and hands.
“Nope, you’re going to sit and listen.”
“Feel like I’m twelve again,” he mumbled under his breath.
“Now, I don’t know what happened between you and that girl who keeps calling, but you need to work it out, son.”
Eddie doesn't respond, but Wayne can see the wheels in his head turning.
“She called again.” Wayne sighed heavily. “I spoke to her.”
“You what?” That caught Eddie’s attention.
“She asked me to tell you that she is sorry and that she loves you.”
“I-“
“No, listen here,” he pointed the black spatula at his nephew.
"Never in my lifetime did I think you would be able to find a girl in this town who would finally see what I’ve seen your whole life? I’m not going to let you throw that away for some stupid argument.”
“It wasn’t stupid, old man; she’s embarrassed by me.”
“Didn’t sound like that to me; she was crying. She’s been calling every day for a fortnight. I think it’s time to hear her out. Clearly, she ain’t giving up without a fight. You don’t get that kind of love nowadays.” He turned to flip his fried egg.
“She’s too good for me; the princess of Hawkins can never be with the freak.” He rolls his eyes.
“Show her you are growing! You’ve got a real job, boy, a good steady one. None of that selling drugs bullshit, keep in line with the law, don’t fuck this up.”
“She hurt me, old man.”
“I don’t disagree that she did, but she had a reason for her doubts…” Wayne trails off, knowing well that his nephew has been slacking when it comes to growing up. Three repeats of his senior year, selling drugs, getting caught for petty crimes, and people thinking he worships Satan.
“Clearly, you care for this girl; I can tell you’re moping around.
“I’m not moping.”
“Don’t talk back.”
“Sorry.”
"Fix it, Ed. Now you can go shower. You stink”
~
Three weeks into the fall semester, you finally gave up on trying to call Eddie. The day you spoke to Wayne was the last day you called, but it didn’t stop you from repeating his phone number in your head for some source of comfort.
Ash had seen him here and there and told you how he was doing even though he had asked her not to say anything; her loyalty lay with you.
She told you he had played her the messages, so he had received them, but he was choosing to ignore you even though, in her words, “he looks like shit.”
You try to keep a brave face before your parents and classmates, but you’re starting to break. Ashley saw it the second she laid eyes on you.
She consoled you as you broke down in her arms. You apologized over and over again because you knew that she was also friends with Eddie and had already heard his side of the story.
~
“I can’t stand seeing you like this,” Ashely sighed as she walked into the dusk-lit trailer with Eddie.
“Well, you can thank your best friend for that.” His tone was sharp.
You had already called Ashley that night to tell her what had happened, and the second she hung up the phone, she raced over to the Munson’s.
“I’m sure she didn’t mean it; she is under a lot of pressure.”
“She did mean it. She meant it and didn’t even have the decency to tell me straight up. Then she had the nerve to tell me she loves me.” Eddie scoffs.
“She does love you, Ed. She’s loved you since she accidentally burst into the Vecna campaign.”
“No way.”
“Yes, way. She has always had a thing for you; she was too scared to do anything. A) because she didn’t think you were into her and B) the pressure her parents put her under to be the perfect student, child, dancer, or valedictorian should be borderline child abuse..."
"Her parents would disown her, they would stop paying for her college, and they would probably kick her out if they learned their perfect angel was with you. So yea, what she did was awful and shitty, but it isn’t because she wanted to. It was because she had to.”
“She never told me much about her home life…” Eddie turned back to face Ash, leaning back against his amp.
“Because she is too proud. She feels this need always to be perfect, to always be on. Have you noticed how she ensures everyone around her is cared for before herself? Have you taken the time to sit and really watch her? She is the one person I know who is actually so kind-hearted and has no altered motives behind her actions.”
“She still ripped my heart out and stomped on it.”
“And she regrets it all, Eddie. I’ve never seen her like this. Please just take some time and think hard. She is sorry, and she loves you truly. I don’t know why. I don’t see the appeal, but she’s head over heels. Trust me. I’ve heard enough about the two of you to last me six lifetimes…”
“She’s told you about…that?” Eddie’s eyes go wide.
“And then some. She’s my best friend. What did you expect?”
“I dunno? You’re not into men, so I thought she wouldn’t share those details?” He chuckles awkwardly.
“No, Daddy.”
“Get out.”
A cackle fills the room as Ash tries to escape before Eddie physically pushes her out himself.
“Ok, ok, I’m leaving. Just think about things, okay?
“Yeah, whatever.” Eddie shrugged and closed the screen door behind her.
~
“He’s never going to forgive me.” You lay back on your bed. You and Eddie have been broken up for a month and a half.
“I think he will come around; he is stubborn.” Ashley joins you.
“This town is so small. How have I not bumped into him yet?”
“Probably because he got a new job, he’s always there. We haven’t had time to come up with a date for the next campaign.
“Do you know what the new job is? Wayne mentioned he was at work when I spoke to him but didn’t say what it was?"
“Beats me,” Ash struggled, letting her head hand off the edge of your bed as she inhaled the smoke from the joint.
Your parents were away for the weekend, and you had the house to yourselves.
“You got any snacks?”
“No, you know my mother doesn’t allow any of the good stuff in the house, and I haven’t had the time to go to the store since school started.”
“Let’s go get some.”
“Ok,” You hadn’t taken a hit yet, so you were okay to drive.
Things were going according to plan. They had exactly what you both wanted at the store and now you’re both on your way back to your place when suddenly, your car stalled at the fork in the road.
"No, no, no, no, no, no, no!" you cried.
"It's okay; there's a payphone up the road. I'll call my dad; his buddy is a mechanic. He can ask for a tow," she reassured you.
"Uh, okay, here," you said as you passed her some change to make the call.
A few minutes later, you saw a baby blue, beat-up-looking truck headed your way.
"Oh, thank God."
The relief was short-lived as you watched the driver jump down from the cab.
Ash flinched when you grabbed her hand and squeezed it so tight that her fingers started turning purple.
“Owe, what the-“
“Hey Ash”
“Eddie?” She chuckled as a sick and twisted grin grew on her face.
“You called about a tow?”
“Yeah, her car stalled.” She gestured over to you, and you looked like you’d seen a ghost.
Eddie chose to ignore you were there, and you felt like you would throw up.
“Ok, well, I'll hook it up to the rig; you can get in.” Eddie only spoke directly to Ash, choosing not to look at you.
You stood there frozen, unable to speak as Ashley pulled you along with her to the tow truck.
“Well, this is awkward.” She chuckled uncomfortably as you got in after her.
“He’s a mechanic?” You whisper.
“Looks like it.”
“What am I going to do?!” You’re panicking. Out of all the scenarios in which you envisioned bumping into Eddie, this was not one of them.
“Breathe,” Ash instructs. “He is freaking out just as much as you are right now. Trust me.”
“O-oh, okay.” That didn’t settle your nerves in the slightest.
You jerked when the driver's door swung open, and Eddie got in without as much as clearing his throat.
“As much as I would love to catch up, I need to get home. Ed, is there any chance you can drop me off?”
“But your stuff is at my place.” You give her a look.
“I’ll get it tomorrow; we are almost there anyway.”
You’re going to be best friendless in about ten minutes if she really thinks she can ditch you now, in your most desperate time of need.
“Whatever,” Eddie mumbles and makes a left.
“Thanks, Ed! Bye, babe!” She blows you an obnoxious kiss and turns to her house.
The cab is eerily silent, and not even the radio is on, which is very unlike Eddie.
“She is so dead,” Eddie mumbles under his breath.
“You’re telling me.” You agree.
It’s the first thing you’ve said to him in a month.
Eddie doesn’t respond, instead he keeps his eyes locked on the road while you try and make yourself smaller, as if that would make you a less of an inconvenience for him.
You were jerked out of your internal screaming when the car jerked into park.
“We’re here.” He mumbles and gets out.
Still uncomfortable, you take a second to gather yourself before opening your door.
You jerk once again as the door is pulled out from under your grasp.
You stare blankly as Eddie steps aside to let you out of the car.
“T-thanks.” You don’t know what to do.
He didn’t talk to you or even look at you, but he’s opening doors for you?
You follow him inside, and he opens the door for you again and tells you to wait until he’s finished.
You anxiously wait for about forty-five minutes before Eddie returns to the waiting area. He looks devastatingly sexy like this. His coveralls are wrapped around his waist, showing off his black tank top, which clings to his sweaty body. Grease marks cover his alabaster skin.
“When’s the last time you got this checked out?” His voice is stern.
“I dunno? A year and a half? Maybe more?” you shrug innocently.
“No wonder it’s so fucked up.”
“Can-can you fix it?”
“You think I can’t fix it? I’m not a moron. I can do my job, y/n”
Hearing him call you by your name was like a knife to the heart.
“What, n-no?”
“How could you be so irresponsible!”
“I don’t know Eddie!” You scream back.
“What if this happened on your way home from Murdock? You’d be stuck in the middle of nowhere!”
“Well, good thing it didn’t!”
“God, you’re infuriating”
“Why do you even care!”
“Woah woah woah… ok kids take it easy.” A much older mechanic came to step between the both of you.
“Sorry, Mac,” Eddie steps back.
“Is this guy bothering you, sweetheart?” The older man, now known as Mac, asks.
“I’m fine,” you say, shaking your head with a sniffle.
“Ed, get back to work.” He ordered.
“Your car might take a while, Miss. Do you want us to drive you back and pick you up when it’s ready?”
“No, thanks, I’ll wait here.” You didn’t want to leave without your car.
“It’s up to you. If you change your mind, let us know. Ed can drive you back.”
Sitting here for hours in silence was better than being trapped back in a car with Eddie for 15 mins.
“Thanks.”
~
As the sun began its descent, casting a warm glow over the horizon, you could feel your impatience growing. The tension in the air was palpable as if it could be sliced with a knife. Your mind was a whirlwind of conflicting thoughts as you grappled with how to approach him.
The mechanics left one by one until only Eddie and you remained. Unable to contain your restlessness any longer, you stuck your head into the garage area. The overpowering scent of motor oil and dirt floods your nostrils, hitting you like a wall. You struggled not to gag, but Eddie’s notice of your disgust did not escape.
“Sorry, this place isn’t clean enough for you, Princess.”
His inflection on your usual pet name was so harsh that you physically jerked back.
“I was just wondering how long it will be?”
“Almost done.”
“O-ok. Thanks”
“I’m not doing you a favour. It’s my job.”
“You never told me you like working on cars.” You don’t know why you’re trying to keep the conversation going. Maybe you missed the sound of his voice, or maybe you’re a glutton for punishment? Maybe you missed him so bad you thought your heart would leap out of your chest if you didn’t touch him.
“Like is a strong word. I’m good at it.” He shrugs.
“You’re good at a lot of things,” the compliment slips out.
“Whatever.” He sniffs and gets down on the creeper to take a look underneath.
You choose to stay and watch him work; no one else is around to tell you otherwise.
When Eddie reappears, he is surprised to see you sitting on the stool watching him work.
“What are you still doing here?”
“Eddie, can you please talk to me?” You feel the lump in your throat start to suffocate you.
“I’m working.” Eddie lets out another sigh of frustration.
“Ok, fine; you don’t have to talk, but will you please just listen?”
Eddie chooses to ignore you and rolls back under the car. You don’t care you’re going to talk anyway.
“I got scared, baby.”
The term of endearment tugged on Eddie’s heartstrings as much as he didn’t want them to.
“I’m so scared. I’ve never felt like this before about anybody, and the thought of it being stripped away from me was too much. I don’t talk about my parents because they put me on this pedestal. I knew they wouldn’t accept you no matter how unbelievably wonderful and beautiful you are. So I panicked…” you take a deep breath to compose yourself.
Eddie rolls out from under the hood and sits up on the creeper.
“I’m an embarrassment then? I can’t possibly be good enough, so you strung me along all summer like a pathetic, lovesick idiot for thinking you could actually be with someone like me, so you could what?…”
“I didn’t string you along! I didn’t know this would happen between us, but I know I love you, Eddie!” You didn’t think you had any more tears left to cry, but you were wrong. Your eyes started to well.
“I don’t believe you.”
“Please, baby, believe me, I don’t care what anyone else will think anymore! I’ll get disowned. I don’t care. I need you to understand, even if you don’t love me back.” You slip off the stool onto your knees so you’re face to face with the man you love.
“You don’t think I love you?! You really believe that?”
You shake your head no, ashamed to look at him.
“I hurt you; I understand that you don’t want me.”
“You really think I could spend the whole summer with you and not fall in love?” He shook his head in disbelief.
“What are you saying?” You want to reach out and touch him, but hold yourself back.
“Of course I love you! I’m changing for you! I’m staying out of trouble; I got this job to get on my own two feet! To prove to you that I can be that guy!”
Not caring anymore, you launch yourself at him, connecting your lips and arms around his neck.
Eddie couldn’t help himself. His body acting on instinct, he fell back into routine and kissed you back immediately.
Not thinking about his dirty hands, he grabbed you by the waist, pulling you in closer until your bodies pressed up against one another.
The moment your bodies touched, you felt like you were on fire. Everything felt so right like you were whole once again.
Regretfully, Eddie pulled away first.
“I’m so sorry,” you plead once more.
“It will take some time, but I want you more than I want to be mad at you.” He cups your face and smears some grease on your cheek as he tries to wipe away the tear stain.
“Really?”
“I love you, I never got to say it. I would tell you our last night before things blew up in our faces.”
“I love you, Eddie.”
A small smile creeps from his lips.
“Oh shit, you’re so dirty.”
“You know I like it dirty,” you can't help but smirk.
“No, no, your shirt and your,” he motions to your cheek.
“It’s okay.” You shrug, and an awkward silence settles between you.
“Um, so,” Eddie clears his throat.”
“Kiss me?”
“Your wish is my command, Princess.”
Your car was fixed by 9:00 p.m., and you offered Eddie a night, but he felt it was too soon to jump back into things. It stung a little, but you understood that not all was forgiven just yet. So you parted ways at the garage but saw a light at the end of the tunnel.
~
Things between you and Eddie have been better—not great, but better. He calls you on his days off, but you haven’t fully been forgiven by him just yet.
You haven’t spent any one-on-one time since he fixed your car two weeks ago because he’s been that slammed with essays, and you have to get ready for midterms.
“I was down at the mechanic yesterday, and you won’t believe who is working there.” Your dad huffs.
“Who?” Your mom replies.
You can’t help but overhear as you study at the kitchen table.
“The Munson boy.”
Uh-oh.
“Really?”
“Wouldn’t want him fixing my cars, probably mess it up even more.”
“He fixed my car two weeks ago.” You interjected.
“What?” Your mom snapped her head to you.
Ok, guess this conversation is happening now.
“He isn’t like what people say.”
“How exactly would you know this?” Your father squints at you suspiciously.
“Because I worked with him all summer at camp, and I learned a lot about him.”
“Is that so?”
“Yes.” You nod point blank.
“He didn’t touch you, did he?” your dad asks, and your mother scolds him for such a question.
“I’m an adult,” you bite back.
“What are you saying y/n?” Your mom asks.
“Eddie is good, and kind, and gentle. He isn’t a devil-worshiping deviant that everyone thinks.”
“Sounds like you’re very fond of this Munson kid.” Your dad was not amused.
“I am. I’m in love with him.” You swallow your fear.
“Excuse me?”
“I’m in love with Eddie. I have been for a long time, and this summer, we were together.” You breathe.
“I will not allow this!” Your father booms.
“Calm down, let’s hear her out.” Your mom was much more level-headed about this than you anticipated.
“What?” Your father and you both look to your mom.
“Have we not raised her to make her own choices?”
No way your mom was on your side?
“I will not have my child tainted by that scoundrel!”
“We’ve been together all summer! Have I changed at all?! Have I not done everything by your book? I was valedictorian! I was homecoming queen! Prom queen! A cheerleader! I was on the debate team! I was on the student council! I’m in college for business! I have been the perfect child for you, and you don’t have the decency to hear me out!”
Your father and mother were shocked. You had never spoken back to them before.
“This is bullshit.” You walk away from your studies, grab your purse and walk out.
You drive, you drive until you reach the trailer park on the other side of town.
You didn’t even know what one was Eddie’s, but you were hoping that you would see his van.
You drive down the gravel road, and you hear nothing but your heart pounding and the crunch of the rocks beneath your tires.
You almost reach the end of the park when you take out a breath of relief when you see the van on the right side of the lot.
You pull up and park behind it before you breathe heavily.
Would he even want to see you? You weren’t sure but needed to see him, no matter how selfish you were.
You tentatively give the screen door a few knocks and wait anxiously.
A few moments pass before you hear footsteps, and a figure appears from behind the small window of the door.
You freeze when you see the older gentleman standing on the other side of the frame.
Shit. You woke up his uncle…. Again.
“I’m so sorry, Mr. Munson,” you apologized before you went to go back to your car.
Stupid, why don’t you ever think before you act? You knew his uncles would be sleeping.
“Hold on now, are you that girl my boy has been hung up on.”
“Uh- yea, I guess so.” You stop in your tracks.
“The one who keeps waking me up?” He chuckles, and you physically cringe.
“Look about that. I am so sorry, I completely forgot, didn’t realize the time-“
“It’s ok, hun. Do you want to come in? Ed isn’t home, but he should be shortly.”
“Really?”
“Please.” He waves you in, and you walk back up the porch steps and inside Eddie’s home.
“Haven’t had a guest in a while; sorry about the mess”
You look around, and you can’t spot the mess he’s talking about.
“Don’t worry about me.” You stand in the room awkwardly, not knowing where to go.
“Have a seat, darling,” he offers a kitchen table chair.
“Want anything to drink? I’m making myself a coffee.”
“Coffee is nice”
“How do you take it?”
“Two sugars, one cream please”
“Coming right up.”
You fiddle with the hem of your sweater, not knowing what to do with your hands. Usually, you’re good at talking to people, strangers or not, but in this case, you can’t find the right words.
“I really am so-“
“If I hear you apologize one more time, I’ll ask you to wait outside.” He chuckles again.
“Oh- sor-,” you catch yourself and just stop talking altogether.
“So, I see why Ed is head over heels for you”
You blush as he sets a Garfield mug in front of you.
“You think he’s really head over heels?” you air quote.
“You have no idea. I’ve never seen him like this with anyone. Was starting to get worried.” He laughed again. He was happy Eddie was finally happy.
“I still think he’s mad at me for what happened.” You take a sip of the sweet liquid.
“He will get over it. He tried to hide it, but I’ve known him from the time he popped out of his mama. He is in love.”
You can’t help but feel the rush of heat travel to your cheeks again.
“I hope so.” You sigh just as the hinges to the front door squeak.
You both look over, and Eddie’s large frame fills the hole as he enters the living room. He’s changed out of his coveralls, but his hands and face are covered in grease.
“Princess?” He questions before a smile breaks his face.
He hasn’t seen you since the garage.
“Hi,” you stand up to hang him.
“What are you doing here?” he asks surprised.
“I told my parents.” You pull back.
“You what!” You didn’t think his chocolate eyes could get any bigger.
“I don’t want you to be a secret.” You cup his curious face in your hands.
“R-really?”
“No, baby. I love you. I want to be with you.”
“I want to be with you, too.”
“So, do you forgive me?”
“After I talked some clear sense into the boy, he’s forgiven you.” Wayne nods his head.” You forgot for a moment that you weren’t alone.
“Shouldn’t you be hitting the road, old man?”
“Trying to get rid of the old guy so you can have quality time together… I see how it is.” He nods solemnly.
Your face heats up with embarrassment at the innuendo. You bury your face into Eddie’s chest to hide, and Eddie waves off his uncle to leave for his shift, and his uncle laughs menacingly as he shuts the door behind him.
“So…” you fill the silence now that you’re finally alone for the first time in months.
“I’m going to shower,” he jerks his thumb over his shoulder and heads to the bathroom. You know, dirt and all,” he motions down his body.
“Ya-of course! I’ll uh, I’ll wait here.” You stand in the middle of the room, trying to take up as little space as possible.
“Relax, Princess, I’ll be right back.” he kisses your cheek before turning for the bathroom
As Eddie showered, you couldn’t help but snoop. You saw a door at the end of the hall, and you could only assume it was Eddie’s room based on what you saw through the crack. You slowly pushed the door open and realized your assumption was correct.
It looked exactly like you thought, and there were no surprises there.
You investigated further to find a lion costume, and you giggled to yourself.
“What’s so funny?” You jumped when you felt Eddie’s damp fingers graze up your arms.
“Oh my god! You scared me.” You clutch your chest.
“Couldn’t help myself, seized the opportunity.” He flipped you so your chests met.
His chest was bare and damp; only a towel was wrapped around his waist as he caged you in with his strong arms.
You suddenly realized how badly you wanted him. You craved him every second you were apart, and now you’re so close you could lean in and lick his tattooed chest.
“Like what you see, princess?” He grips your chin in his thumb and forefinger to tilt your head up to look him in the eyes.
“Yes,” you sigh unabashedly.
“Good. Daddy’s missed you, baby.” He whispered before leaning in to kiss you. His hands roam your body, he missed your soft skin, your breasts, your ass.
You fight back a moan as your pussy clenches at his words. Your body is on fire; you want to do everything to please him, to make him feel good, wanted, and needed.
Eddie’s hands made their final destination as his kiss deepened. His thick fingers slip into the pockets of your jeans and squeeze, making you roll your hips into his.
“Need you,” you moan as you pull him in closer by the towel, making it slip.
“Oops,” you giggle innocently like that’s not exactly what you wanted.
“Naughty girl,” Eddie chuckles darkly before he bends down and lifts you up. You wrap your legs around his waist as he walks you over to the unmade bed.
You kiss his neck before he places you down on the mattress. A small growl leaves his lips when you lick his sweet spot.
You can feel his hard cock pressing into your lower stomach, only making your pussy weep for him.
Weeks without his touch have been punishment enough for your trepidations. Eddie’s hands found the button of your jeans and popped it open without struggle. The sound of your zipper was so loud as you waited for his hands to touch you. You saved time by taking off your top garments, but you needed to feel him on your skin.
“You’re so ready for me already, aren’t you, Princess?” His hands cupped your pussy over your sodden panties. Eddie watches your face as his fingers played with your clit. The look on your face was what he loved most. Your eyes glazed over, your mouth agape, and he hasn’t even started. The way you submit to him made him feral.
“Yes, daddy.” Your pussy was throbbing for him.
“That’s what I like to hear.” He stretches out like a cat as his head dips lower as his hands reach up your body to cup your breasts.
His hands mould themselves to your tits, and his tongue licks a hot wet strip up your soaked slick, basking in your taste.
He’s craved it ever since that day he left. He wants to devour you, to consume you until he is high off of you.
You grind your hips into his face; you can’t help it.
“Greedy girl,” he spoke into your pussy, making you quiver beneath him.
“Ohhh,” your back arched. Your hand gripped his long locks as you tugged them tightly. Eddie knew your body so well; it was like he was designed for you. All of your senses were ablaze, and his name fell from your lips.
“Not allowed to cum until I say so,” he growls. He knew you were close as his fingers slipped up into your cunt.
“W-what?” You stutter.
“You’ve been a bad girl”
“Daddy, please,” you begged, but Eddie didn’t like how whiney you’d become.
Before you cry at the loss of Eddie’s mouth in your cunt a sharp slap strikes your pussy.
Your body jerks, but you like it.
“You will listen to me.” You met his gaze, and you understood he wasn’t playing around.
“Sorry, Daddy.” You whispered.
“What’s that? I didn’t hear you?”
“I’m sorry, Daddy,” you say with more confidence.
“Good girl, now give me what I want.”
He sits up, and you follow suit. You knew he wanted your mouth; it’s the least you could do for what you put him through.
You wanted him. Needed him, yearned for him.
The way Eddie has you revelling for him was exactly what he wanted. To see you like this, on your knees, begging to take him in your mouth.
“You want it so bad, don’t you, baby?” He asks as he’s laying on his back, you're between his knees.
“Yes,” you don’t dare touch him yet, but you want to.
“You’re going to beg for it, baby”
Now he was just being mean
“But-“
“Are you talking back to me?”
“No, Daddy.”
“Beg.”
“Please let me touch you.” You gave him your best puppy dog eyes, even though he had you beat in that department every time. “I want you in my mouth so badly, baby; I’ve been thinking about it for weeks. I crave you. I want it so bad, please. I want to make you feel so good, baby. I can make you feel so good if you let me.”
“Good girl. Now suck.”
Your mouth watered at the way he spoke to you. You loved how Eddie’s could get so commanding when you fucked.
You had his cock in your mouth within the second he stopped speaking.
You licked a long strip up the underside of his shaft that lay flat against his stomach. His cock was so hard for you it only make it all that more pleasurable, knowing he was also yearning as much as you were, if not more, even if his words didn’t show it.
“Take it’s that’s my good girl,” he praised.
His hands gripped your hair as he guided your mouth at his desired pace. Your saliva pooled in your mouth, creating a sensation so good that Eddie can’t help but fuck your mouth.
You loved it, and you wanted him to use you to remind him that only you can get him this way.
The feeling of his head almost hitting the back of your throat was exhilarating.
Eddie knows your limits and wouldn’t push your boundaries; he can’t do that to his princess.
Just before he’s about to cum, he pulls you off to let you breathe; his chest heaves as he waits for you to collect yourself.
“Come here.” He beckoned you to lay parallel with him.
Eddie takes you in a kiss that makes your world stop. A kiss that lets you know he truly does love you. The way he was so firm but so gentle, his soft lips moulded with your own. Your taste on his tongue and his taste on yours melded together as one. You roll on top of him; you want your bodies to be connected.
“Can you fuck me now? Please?” You grind your wet pussy overtop his hard cock, threatening to slip it inside.
“Is that what my princess wants?”
“Yes, so bad”
“I love it when you beg for it,” Eddie says, flipping you over. You let out a squeal at the unexpected movement.
“Gonna fuck you until you beg for me to stop” he slowly guides his hard cock into your tight wet pussy.
Your fingers grip his shoulders as he slips into you. You pull him down so his weight is fully on top of you; you need to feel close to him again.
Eddie’s lips attach themselves to your neck, biting and sucking until the mark of possession is dark and purple.
The consequences of having a large hickey when you get home are the last thing on your mind. The way he is making you feel trumps all.
His hips begin to pump his cock in and out of you. Finally, the sensation you’ve been yearning for is finally reality.
“Fuck yes!” You cry as his hips slap into your own, and his hand travels to your swollen clit.
“You like it when I touch you there, don’t you? Dirty girl can’t get enough of Daddy’s cock can she”
“No, Daddy!” You cry.
Eddie pulls up so he can watch his slick covered cock disappear inside of you with each thrust. His eyes are deranged with lust as he can’t look away. His hands gripped so tightly on your hips, moving your body to match his strokes as if you were just a fleshlight.
“Pl-please,” you stutter as his cock hits your g spot without warning.
“Please, what? Tell Daddy what you want”
“I want to cum”
The price Eddie felt that he already had you quivering under him, and it’s only been a few minutes since his cock had entered you.
“Babygirl, what’s to come already?” He mocks.
“Yes, please,” you seethe through your teeth.
“Not yet.”
“I can’t hold it.” Your eyes well up; it felt so good; the pressure built up in your lower stomach was wound so tightly you were about to explode. No way you could hold off.
Your pussy clamped on Eddie like a vice. He almost couldn’t pull out by how tight of a grip you held.
“Oh-oh,” he stuttered. You caught him off guard.
“You wanna be in charge, princess?” He cupped your face.
“No, I just want to cum” you continue to beg as his thrusts didn’t still.
“Cum for me” his hand continued to curl your bundle of nerves, and you fell apart. Your feral moans filled the room as your body was washed over in a wave of euphoria. You came so hard you think you blacked out for a moment.
“That’s it; there’s my girl; you fuckin came so good” Eddie still pumped himself into you. He didn’t want it to be over just yet. He was having so much fun playing with you. You were like his little doll.
“Come on, baby, ride me.” He helps lift you up even though your whole body feels like jello.
“Gonna bounce on Daddy’s cock like a good little bunny,” he praises, and your pussy floods itself once more.
When you sink down on his cock you see starts. The new angle was so much more filling than when he had you on your back.
“Oh my god,” your eyes roll back, and your jaw hands slack. Eddie seizes the opportunity to push his fingers into your mouth to suck on.
“Such a good girl. You like all your holes filled, huh? How about this one? We are missing one.” His free hand wraps around your ass and toys with your other hole.
“Yes,” you frantically nodded your head.
“Mmm, you’re such a slut for me, aren’t you? My little bunny. Just love to hop on this cock, huh?” He takes the fingers that were shoved in your mouth and slowly stretches you out. “That’s it, that’s my girl. Taking all of me so well. You like being so full, don’t you?”
“Yes, Daddy,” Your legs burned, but you didn’t dare stop until he came. The sound of your wet skin slapping and moans filled the empty bedroom. The only two people that exist right now are you and Eddie. Eddie’s pleasure was at the top of mind, but you were getting close to that breaking point. Your second orgasm was getting closer and closer with each pump.
“You’re so tight, pretty baby; you gonna come again, f’me?”
You nod your head frantically as the words get caught in your throat.
“Awe, my pretty bunny can even speak, huh? You’re just sooo cock drunk for daddy’s cock, aren’t you, baby?”
Eddie’s words only aided your impending orgasm to crash through your whole body. You collapsed down into Eddie’s body as yours quivered in excitement over his. The way your pussy clamped down on Eddie’s cock had him cuming right along with you. Eddie’s head tingled as his hot load shot up into you. He couldn’t help but jerk his hips up on instinct to make sure you took all of him.
With a sigh of relief, Eddie hugged you closer to his body, not letting you pull off his softening cock just yet.
You let your weight fall on Eddie as you come down from your orgasm. Eddies tattooed arms wrapped around you and pulled you in your head to his chest. You could hear his heart pounding in his chest, and your heart fell in sync with his soothing beat.
“You okay, Princess?”
“Mmmhhhmmmmmm,” you hum as you nuzzle your head deeper into the crook of his neck.
You could cry at how happy you were at this moment. Finally, you have everything you want wrapped in your arms.
“Good.” he kisses the top of your head, and you both fight the urge not to fall asleep like this.
After Eddie begrudgingly got up because he insisted you both had to clean up you both fell asleep and didn’t wake up until late in the evening.
~
Eddie ordered you both pizza, and you fell right back into your old ways. You can’t seem to wipe the permanent smile from your face.
Simple ‘I love you’s’ slip past each of your lips. It was disgusting to anyone who would be looking from the outside in, but you and Eddie were in your own bubble that nobody could break until you both jumped when there was a pounding on the front door.
Eddie shit up from your arms and ran to see who it is.
“What the?” He jerks the door open, and Ash makes her way inside.
“Dude, your parents are freaking out.”
“What?” You sit up.
“They called me, yelling about how you’ve lost your mind, that the Munson boy has you brainwashed and stormed out of the house.”
If you could roll your eyes any more, they would fall out of your skull.
“I know.” She agreed.
Eddie stood behind her nervously, biting his nails. Would you rethink everything? He couldn’t come between you and your parents.
“They will come around; they just need to meet him; they’ll see how good he is,” you plead.
“I don’t know, Princess.” The thought of him meeting your parents terrified him.
You get up off the couch and walk to Eddie. You cup his face to look him in the eye, and he melts in your touch.
“We will figure this out”
“You guys are gross.” Ash can’t help but smile. She’s so happy for both of you.
“Thanks, babe,” you smile at her.
“Okay, well, I know you’re okay. I’ll let your parentals know that you’re safe, and you’ll come home when they’re ready to talk to you and have calmed down.
“Thank you.”
After Ash left, you tried to get Eddie to calm down and relax. Eventually, he could do it when you slipped off the couch and sank between his legs.
The second your tongue touched his sensitive head, he was sufficiently relaxed. And once your mouth was dripping with his cum he thinks he couldn’t be more in love with you. The thought of meeting your parents wasn’t as scary. He will do everything and anything to keep you.
“I’ll do it.”
“What?” You wipe the corner of your mouth.
“I’ll meet your partners.”
“Are you sure?”
“If I get head like that? I’ll do anything you ask of me”
You giggle softly, and he takes you in his arms. You agree that tomorrow when you go home tomorrow.
~
With bated breath, Eddie and you walk into your childhood home, hand in hand.
“Hello?”
“Sweetheart! We were so worried.” Your mom rushed down the foyer hallway.
“Mom, I’m fine.”
Your mother spots the large and abrasive bruise on your neck. She stiffens up immediately when she also sees Eddie standing beside you.
“I see.”
“Mom, please.”
“Okay. Let’s talk.”
“Where is Dad?”
“I’m his chair.” She rolls her eyes.
The three of you walk to the living room, where your dad is reading the paper, unbothered.
“Dad,” you greet him.
“Nice of you to return your little tantrum faster.
“My tantrum?” You couldn’t believe how childish he had acted yesterday.
You feel Eddie’s hand tightening in yours, and you squeeze it back.
“Can we please talk?”
He tips the corner of his pepper to finally look up and realizes Eddie is in his house.
“What is he doing here?”
“If you won’t treat my boyfriend respectfully, we are leaving.”
“Sweetheart, wait, we can talk about this.” Your mom was trying to keep the peace.
“Good.” You lead Eddie to sit on the couch, but he doesn’t follow.
He walks over to your dad and reaches out his hand.
“Sir, I’m Eddie.” You watch as Eddie’s hand is held out firm.
Your dad stared back at him for a moment until you warned him.
Surprisingly, your dad took his hand and shook it, and you sighed a breath of relief.
“Hello, Edward.” You tried not to roll your eyes, but your eyes betrayed you.
“Y/N,” your mom warns.
“Sorry.”
Eddie also reaches out to your mother. He hands her the bouquet of flowers he had for her.
“Thank you, Eddie.” She smiles and sets them on the coffee table as they both sit. Your parents are on one side, you and Eddie are on the other.
“So,” your dad speaks.
With a deep breath, you start to speak.
“Over the summer, Eddie and I got really close, and we are together as a couple.”
“And now what? You’re going to live happily ever after?”
“Sir, with all due respect, your daughter can make her own choices. She has been the golden child her whole life. She respects and loves you both so much that he actually broke up with me in fear of what you both would say or do…
“ I don’t know if you noticed, but she is the best person everyone who has had the pleasure of knowing her has ever met. You and your wife have raised a wonderful person, and I am so lucky and grateful she chose me.”
“I’m doing everything in my power to make sure I live up to her standards. She is the most important person in my life, and I will treat her as she deserves. If that isn’t enough for you both, so be it, but she doesn’t need me to support her. She knows how to handle herself, and that’s all due to you guys.”
You held back tears as you listened to Eddie speak so highly of you. It was so nice to be validated.
“Is that right?” Your dad spoke.
“Yes, Sir.” Eddie nods and takes your hand in his.
“That’s very honourable of you, Edward.”
Were pigs flying? Did your dad just say something nice?
“Thank you, Sir.”
“Those are very kind things of you to say, Eddie. I’m sorry we jumped to conclusions about your intentions.
“I understand I have a reputation; I wasn’t dealt the best hand, but I love your daughter, and she loves me. I haven’t done anything to disrespect her, and I never plan to.”
Your parents stay silent and give one another a look. You held your breath until one of them spoke.
“We are going to have some rules for when you come over-“ you dad starts but your mom cuts him off.
“Eddie, would you like to stay for dinner?” Your mom offered.
“Yes, I would love to, ma’am.” Eddie smiled, and so did you.
You mouthed the words ‘thank you’ to your mom, and she gave you an assuring smile.
“What?”
“They are adults. Clearly, they have been safe over the summer; I'm sure they will keep it that way.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Eddie cleared his throat, clearly uncomfortable.
Your eyes went wide, and cheeks flared up with embarrassment.
Your dad sat back with a grumble and flicked his newspaper, flustered as ever.
“I’ll go start dinner. You kids can go; I’ll let you know when Im finished.
“We did it!” You jumped into Eddie’s arms, and he spun you around once you entered your bedroom.
You celebrated with a kiss, and you slipped down his body, and your feet made contact with the floor.
“Can’t wait to show off my girl.” He cupped your face in both hands, “need to let all of Hawkins you’re mine.”
Summary: Somehow, between your overwhelming sweetness and insistence on treating him as if he was someone worth saving, you had managed to sneak your way into Loki's cold heart. He simply hadn't managed the guts to tell you, but a bit of a Christmas spirit might just change that.
A/N: I wish everyone a very happy Christmas. <3
Word count: 3k
Masterlist
The sun peered over the horizon this morning only to shine over the white expanse of snow that covered the grounds of the Avengers Compound.
It had snowed pretty heavily over the night, and as Loki looked out his window, he couldn't help but think that the landscape was rather pleasant to look at—Thor had already made his way outside to shovel snow out of the driveway along with Steve, the once green fields were now a blanket of glistening white, as were the many trees around. The air was cold, but a pleasant kind of cold; it brought a feeling of calmness.
That is, until a rather sharp noise of something scratching the floor outside his bedroom disrupted Loki's peace.
Accepting that another day had begun, the god made his way outside onto the common area, stuffing his hands in the pockets of his hoodie and putting on his slippers.
As soon as Loki rounded the corner to the spacious living room, his lips hung open in bewilderment and his brows furrowed in mild confusion.
You were standing on the very top of a ladder, stretching your body so you could reach the ceiling trims and lamps, all while holding an ungodly amount of ornaments, string lights, and garlands. It looked like a rather precarious arrangement and Loki found himself worrying for your safety for a moment.
"What on earth are you doing?" Loki asked, exasperated, frozen in place as he watched you.
The ladder wiggled in place when you quickly turned around to face him and Loki nearly bolted forward to catch you if you were to fall. He cursed under his breath when all you did was give him a cheeky smile.
"I'm decorating," you gestured around to the expanse of the living room, which already had most of its nooks and crannies filled with garlands, Santa Claus plushies, stockings, and the like.
Loki's frown only deepened, "We already have decorations." He pointed to the exaggerated Christmas tree that had been standing beside the TV since before the beginning of December. Honestly, he had yet to understand the humans' obsession with said holiday.
You chuckled, and the sound naturally brought the ghost of a smile to Loki's lips as well. "No, silly. I'm decorating for our little Christmas party tomorrow night, I thought the place looked a bit bare still." You winked at him and went back to work.
Loki shook his head, his heart swelling with affection. He was way past denying it already. Somehow, between your overwhelming sweetness and insistence on treating him as if he was someone worth saving, you had managed to sneak your way into Loki's cold heart. He simply hadn't managed the guts to tell you, yet.
With a flick of his wrist, the living room erupted in a myriad of greens, golds, and reds. Each decoration you had on your arms—and more—magically took its rightful place in the walls and between furniture.
A breathless chuckle went past your lips, eyes glinting with amazement as you watched it all unfold. It was incredibly endearing, the way that, despite seeing so much of it, you never ceased to be enchanted by Loki's magic. He secretly took pride in it.
"That's convenient," you mumbled with a faint smile.
"Quite," Loki stated, taking a step closer, "Now please get down from there before you break something and have to spend your precious holiday in the med bay."
You skipped down the ladder as if gravity would bend to your will, were you to fall; the tilt of your lips ever present as you came to stand before Loki, much closer than what would be socially acceptable for ones who said they were merely friends. Yet Loki would never dare to complain. If anything, he held himself back from pulling you even closer.
"Do I detect a hint of worry, trickster?" You raised a brow at him. "Would you miss me if I didn't attend the party?"
Loki chuckled lowly, his smirk was teasing but his eyes avoided yours. "Darling, you're the only reason I'm even going to this party."
You bit your lower lip to keep the smile from getting any bigger, "Flatterer," you breathed.
And Loki loved you like this, all pink cheeks and bashful eyes, as if he had the same effect on you that you had on him. He hardly dared to dream of it. But he allowed himself to bask in these tiny moments by your side.
Then your pinkie hooked around his own, and Loki was putty in your hands.
"Come on, let's take a walk outside, enjoy the sun while it's out." You tugged him toward the elevator, not once letting go of his hand.
It was indeed very pleasant outside, the soft rays of sunlight were just enough to bring a bit of warmth along with the cold winter breeze, the air was fresh to breathe in, and the snowy landscape was beautiful.
Loki's boots crunched the snow and frozen grass underneath as he lazily walked beside you. He'd steal glances at you from time to time, watching as the sunlight shaped your serene profile and how you looked genuinely breathtaking amidst the white horizon. Everything felt perfect for a precious second and Loki wished he could slow down time.
His musing was suddenly interrupted, however, when he was hit in the back of his head with something mildly solid and very cold; causing an oof to escape his lips.
He whipped his head around in your direction only to see you muffling a giggle with one hand, while the other held a snowball.
A halfhearted scoff went past Loki's lips. He raised a hand to brush off the remaining snow from his hair, as a mischievous smirk painted his features, "You little minx, you have no idea what you've gotten yourselves into."
A mix of a squeak and a chuckle fell past your lips the moment Loki bolted towards you and you naturally sped off in the opposite direction. You struggled to run amidst the rather thick snow and Loki took the advantage to bunch up a snowball of his own and hit you square in the back.
By the time you had made it back inside the Compound, you both had nearly run two full laps of the whole yard and were a mess of snow-covered clothes and breathless laughs.
"I.. win," you spoke in between deep breaths, one hand resting on Loki's chest to brace yourself.
"Absolutely not," Loki frowned as if you'd personally offended him. He took a deep breath himself, gesturing to your snowy clothes, "You're way worse off than I am."
"Uh uh, lies," you insisted. "I hit you way more than you hit me, your aim is shit," you chuckled.
Loki's smile followed yours naturally, he raised a hand to brush wild strands of your hair away from your eyes, his touch all delicate and soft. "You keep telling yourself that, love."
─── ·❆· ───
When the night of the celebration finally arrived, Loki found himself hesitating to get out of his room. He stared at his reflection in the mirror, slowly running a hand over the smooth fabric of his black suit. Did he like what he saw? The person staring back at him? Would you?
It was no secret that, despite accepting his presence, a few wary looks and comments still lingered between his teammates whenever he walked into a room. Loki couldn't blame them, not really. He also couldn't deny that those not-so-kind comments didn't get to him sometimes, much as he'd like to.
But then, there was you, who had never once made him feel unwelcome or unworthy. You who made him coffee in the mornings and always saved him a seat at the table. You who had a smile reserved for him ever since his first day here. You who made his heartbeat stumble and his silver tongue get caught in his mouth.
And Loki so desperately wanted to be someone deserving of all that. Still, he feared he wasn't.
A long sigh went past his lips. With a final tidying of his hair and the tie around his neck, Loki made his way out.
There was music playing in the common area. The several blinking lights you had so meticulously arranged were illuminating the room beautifully, reflecting against the many Christmas ornaments in warm shades of orange in the night. Tony, Thor, and Natasha were hanging out by the bar, with drinks in hand and loose smiles on their faces; Clint and Steve were sitting on the couch, laughing at something that Loki couldn't hear; Bucky and Sam were standing together by the Christmas tree, apparently trying to guess what was inside each present.
A few of their gazes turned as Loki stepped into the room, he could see as well as feel it, the weight resting in each one. He gave a polite smile and nod to no one in particular as his gaze skimmed around, looking for the reason he came. When he couldn't find you, he walked straight to the bar.
Loki leaned his elbows on the glass surface, closing his eyes and breathing in. There was a reason he wasn't overly fond of the team's social gatherings; he felt like an intruder, someone they were merely putting up with.
"Anything special?" Natasha's sultry voice made Loki look up. She stood behind the bar with an inquiring eyebrow raised at him.
"I'm afraid she's not here yet," Loki mumbled, which elicited a low chuckle from Natasha. The spy was a dear friend of yours and probably something close to it for Loki as well, one of the few people here who he knew didn't mind his presence.
"Actually," Natasha started, nodding towards the opening doors of the elevator, "I think she just arrived."
Loki turned around and his breath hitched. You stepped out of the elevator slowly, one hand smoothing out the fabric of your red dress—a gorgeous red dress that hugged your body and accentuated your curves to perfection. Your hair was up in a bun and there was golden jewelry highlighting your features.
The god was frozen in place, entranced by the beauty that was you. He'd never been so taken with anyone like he is with you. And when your eyes met, and a small, timid smile graced your glossy lips, Loki swore he could feel his heartbeat stumble.
You were about to make your way to him when Steve called your name and stole your attention. And then Bruce, and then Sam. Seemed like everyone wanted a piece of you tonight.
Loki had a near-empty drink in hand when you finally managed to walk up to him.
You approached him with a smirk, leaning on the bar just beside him and raising a hand to gently tug on the lapel of his blazer. "Well, don't you clean up nicely, trickster?"
Loki hummed, leaning just a tad closer to you, "I'm not the one everyone is trying to get a hold of this evening." He said lowly, only for you to hear.
"Oh please," you chuckled, briefly avoiding his gaze. "I only have eyes for one person tonight."
A beat of silence passed, even if the room was anything but silent. Tony was going on about one of the many Christmas stories he shared every year, eliciting laughs from your teammates who by now had gathered all around the living room. From the corner of his eye, Loki noticed Bucky trying to straighten the star on the very top of the Christmas tree, the one the soldier himself had knocked over earlier.
You'd be mad, Loki thought. You'd be saying something about manners and being more careful, with a smile on your lips as you easily fixed the golden star yourself.
But instead, you were here; attention solely on Loki, in your little corner of the world as the chatter around you turned to nothing but muffled noise.
Why? He couldn't help but wonder. What could you possibly see on him?
"And who is this lucky gentleman?" Loki asked, his voice suddenly way too quiet as he kept his eyes trained on his half-empty glass, "Or lady?"
Only after you didn't answer, did Loki finally look up at you. There was a soft smile on your lips, painted with a feeling he couldn't name.
"That's a secret," you whispered back and took hold of Loki's glass of champagne, leaving it on top of the bar before closing your hand around his own instead. "Come on."
Loki followed easily, he allowed you to guide him to the balcony, where the cold wind was flowing and the warm lights from inside were nothing but a faded glow coming from the glass doors.
You didn't let go of Loki's hand when you stopped walking, only squeezed it once as you looked up at him with softly furrowed brows and an adorable tilt of your head. "What's wrong? You've been all tense ever since I walked in."
Of course you'd know. Of course you'd notice the stiffness of his shoulders and the guarded look in his eyes. If there was anyone who could read him like an open book, it was you.
A breathy chuckle fell past Loki's lips, he drank in the sight of you in the night; as wisps of your hair flew with the wind and as the light from inside outlined the shape of your features.
"You know it as well as I do that they don't want me here," Loki shot a pointed look at your teammates inside, not accusing, simply stating. "I don't… belong here…" Loki's fingers tangled with yours, his thumb gently brushing the skin of your hand, "With you." The words were nothing but a breath.
You raised your free hand to his face, twirling a strand of his hair between your fingers before you gingerly traced his jaw. "But you do," you took half a step closer to him, your heels bumping his shoes, "You may think that you don't, but you do. I'd miss you greatly if you ever left."
Loki met your gaze again, his eyes a pool of sentiment, walls down and as vulnerable as you'd ever seen him. He leaned into your touch, all soft and pleading. "How could I ever deserve your kindness?" He spoke quietly, almost as if he never meant to say it out loud.
But you heard anyway, and your answer came in the same heartbeat. "You already do, always have." Your voice caught slightly in your throat, overwhelmed with the affection you felt for him.
The softest of smiles graced Loki's lips, the back of his eyes burned and his heart beat out of his chest, for you, for you, for you. He leaned in, biting the inside of his cheek and closing his eyes when you didn't pull away. His lips met your forehead in a lingering kiss, a promise of the thousand words he wished to say to you, of everything you made him feel that he couldn't put into words.
When he pulled away, you were looking up at him with something akin to adoration—maybe he could dare to call it love. Your eyes shining with a twinkle of expectation.
Loki squeezed your hand, feeling his cheeks heat up. "I couldn't break your silly tradition, now could I?" He shot a glance up.
You followed his gaze and finally saw it, a glimmer of green leaves with a small red trinket tying it together, delicately flowing in the wind as it hung by the door, pretty much on top of your head. A mistletoe.
You hummed, a small smirk coming to your lips as you settled back on Loki. "I don't remember putting it there." You raised a brow at him, standing so close you breathed the same air.
"And yet it's there anyway," Loki mumbled, lost in your orbit. His eyes darted down to your lips; it was a quick glance, all timid and boyish, but you caught it.
"So it is," you chuckled quietly, taking hold of the tie around his neck so you could pull him closer still, "And I wouldn't want to break tradition either."
You kissed him then, soft lips fitting with his own like a missing puzzle piece. A quiet gasp of surprise escaped Loki as soon as you closed the distance, yet you were quick to kiss it away, trapping his lower lip between yours and bringing one hand up to tangle in between his hair.
The taste, the feeling of you, put Loki's most beautiful dreams to shame. It's white noise and being submerged underwater all the same time—sweet, warm and tasting like brown sugar and the sip of champagne you had earlier.
The world around faded to nothingness as Loki's hand traced your spine and tugged you flush to him, his breath came in trembling puffs when you pulled away just the tiniest bit. His lips tingled as they brushed against yours again.
What a remarkable mortal you were, to have a god shivering beneath your touch. And selfishly, Loki wouldn't have it any other way.
You opened your eyes slowly, tongue running over your bottom lip as your thumb traced his jaw. You breathed in deeply to catch back the air he whisked out of you.
Loki watched the stars dancing in your eyes, looking down at you as if you were his universe, and delighting in the way you looked up at him as if he were yours. Maybe that's what love was all about.
Your hand trailed down his arm, brushing the fabric of his blazer until you tangled your fingers with his.
Squeezing your hand, Loki smiled. He felt like he belonged, right here by your side.
"Come on, before they open all the gifts without us," you winked, raising your free hand to clean the smudged lipstick by the corner of your mouth.
Loki followed you inside with his cheeks and heart feeling all warm. And if the mistletoe disappeared in a flash of green after you turned around, no one needed to know.
⋆* ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ
Thank you for reading this little story. Feedback and reblogs are literally what keeps me motivated to continue posting here, so I’d appreciate it if you could take some time to reblog and comment. <3
You do not have permission to repost, copy, or translate my works on any platforms (even with credit), please respect.
Summary: You felt him before you even met him. And despite the pain he carried around, his soul was one of the most beautiful you'd ever seen.
A/N: A spur-of-the-moment idea that I simply couldn't ignore. I really hope you guys enjoy it, and yes I'm working on part two of my series with Loki as well. <3
Word count: 6k
Masterlist
The battle had left its mark on everyone, both physically and mentally. All the lives that were lost wouldn't be brought back. But everyone took solace in the fact that Thanos and his army were no longer a threat. And now, it was a time for rebuilding.
Wakanda's grassland was a battlefield. Bodies of both friend and foe lay scattered on the ground. The mourning loomed heavy in the air, you could feel it weighing down on your chest, your throat, and lungs. It was suffocating, prickling into your skin like needles. Yet you still walked, your boots crushing the grass underneath while you avoided stepping on stretched arms and legs, you needed to make sure no one else remained left behind.
A few feet away, the mad titan who once threatened the entire universe lay lifeless on the ground, his head disconnected from his body. For him, you felt no pity.
King T'Challa was both happy and sad to see you and the others leave. Happy, because it meant the end of a war; sad, because of having to say farewell to dear friends. But you, Steve, Natasha, and Banner were needed back in town, back at the Avengers compound; to welcome Tony back on earth, and because Thanos' attack had reverberated in many other places. It seemed like the Avengers were back in the game.
─── ·❆· ───
This morning was a gloomy one. Grey skies peeked behind your curtains in the early hours of the day, maybe it would rain soon. It's been two weeks since the battle, and you were glad to see that most people were recovering; each in their own way, but recovering nonetheless.
You were already up when the clock hit 7:30 AM, holding a warm cup of coffee between your hands, and staring out into the compound's driveway and past the treeline through the big windows of the kitchen. Today would be the day that Thor came back, he'd been helping with the settling of his people in New Asgard until now, but you've heard about him not wanting to be king anymore. You were happy for him, you never did think that a ruler's life suited him anyway—and you missed your friend.
"He gets one chance, Rogers. One chance and that's it." Tony's voice suddenly caught your attention as he stepped into the kitchen, you turned your back to the window so you could watch as your resident Iron Man poured himself a cup of coffee without looking at his mug. Steve was right beside him, his hands on his hips as he sighed quietly, already all too used to Tony's moods.
"Yes, one chance, he proved himself enough by helping us fight against Thanos, I suppose we owe him the benefit of the doubt," Steve agreed, still holding his voice calm.
With a smirk on your lips, you approached your teammates. "What's going on, guys?" You leaned on the kitchen island, taking a sip of your coffee.
Tony ran his tongue over his bottom lip, his expression less than pleased as he took a sip of his own coffee before saying; "point break is bringing his beloved brother to our home." He shrugged, and said in a quieter tone, "Says he changed or something."
"Loki will be staying with us?" You raised an eyebrow. The attack on New York happened before you joined the team, but you were familiar enough with it to be wary of Thor's brother, even if Thor did speak more nicely of him recently. Still, you had never actually met Loki to form your own opinion.
"That's… to be decided," Tony grumbled, shooting a glance toward Steve. "But yes, pretty much. And, by the way, Strange wasn't happy about having reindeer games back in the city either."
"Wow, you guys finally agree on something," you snickered.
Tony mouthed a 'don't' to you, before Steve said; "Strange knows we'll handle it if anything happens, but Thor vouches for him, so…"
You gave Steve a soft smile, and as much as you understood Tony's wariness, you agreed with the Captain. Loki didn't have the best of pasts with the City, but his help in the recent battle was one of many game-changers. He deserved a second chance.
Strangely enough, you found yourself excited to meet the God of Mischief. It was in your nature to analyze people, watch them from afar, and learn about the things they'd rather not say out loud. And someone like Loki, who had both once tried to take over your planet and now helped in saving it, was bound to raise some curiosity.
No more than an hour passed before you heard Thor's strong voice all the way from the living room. A small smile instantly came to your lips as you discarded your book, got up from the couch, and put on your slippers, rushing to the main doors to greet him.
Before you could turn the last corner, however, you came to an abrupt halt. Your breath got caught up in your throat and you had to lean back on the wall for support. Clutching the fabric of your shirt right above your heart, you were glad that this particular hallway was currently empty.
You could hear Thor's voice just around the corner, Tony was there too, but their words were faint and far away. Your vision was suddenly a little blurry, and underneath your palm you could feel your heart beating frantically.
See, this was nothing that hadn't happened before, after all, you are an empath. But a feeling this heavy rarely comes unannounced, unwanted. It briefly reminded you of when you first discovered your power, when you had no control and could pick up on pain, anger, joy, and pleasure that were not your own even if you didn't want to. Yet now, after years of living with it, you had learned to dose your perception of the feelings around you; now, when you weren't willingly focusing, other people's emotions felt more like a gentle whisper, a gush of chilly wind on your skin—something you were able to ignore if you wanted to.
But this overwhelming sadness; this emptiness, and loss, and pain; it came to you with such force that you were not able to block out. Seconds felt like hours, until the surprise of the new feeling passed and you took back control. Whispers of it remained, lurking in your stomach and in the back of your throat, but with a bit of extra focus, you were able to handle it.
And once your mind was finally clear again, it hit you. Who did you catch these feelings from?
You took a step around the corner cautiously, hands buried in your pockets as your eyes roamed your surroundings. There was no one around besides Tony, Thor, and Loki.
You knew it right away. You were familiar with the emotions radiating from Tony and Thor; but him, the raven-haired trickster, he was new, and if you didn't feel empathy for him before, you did now.
Loki held himself immaculately, a straight posture and a serene expression on his face. You had no idea how he did it, how he was able to hold all of those feelings in and still look so well put together; because one glance into his soul and you already felt like crying.
There was a light drizzle falling outside, maybe that's why Loki's black blazer seemed to be shining under the bright lights of the entrance hall. His eyes—bright and ocean-green—were settled on you; the realization got you feeling hyperaware of each movement you made. Even his gaze was heavy.
Thor's booming voice calling your name captured your attention then, he had a big smile on his face and before you knew it he already had your feet off the floor as he held you in a hug.
You laughed against his shoulder, hugging him back just as tight and telling him all about how much you missed him. Still, when you let go, your eyes found Loki's again, he hadn't stopped looking at you once.
─── ·❆· ───
The opinions about Loki's presence in the compound were mixed, but most of your teammates seemed fine with it; truth be told, no one paid much attention to him. As you'd expected, Loki's room was on your floor, because that's where Thor stayed too; as well as Tony, Natasha, and Yelena.
It's been a few days since his arrival, yet you haven't had the opportunity to properly speak with him, alone. But you've been feeling him a lot. Whether it was you subconsciously focusing on him more, or something else, it seemed like your body was more in tune and connected with his than you've ever been with anyone else. You picked up on a few of his emotions even if you weren't actively trying to; you felt his bouts of uneasiness when someone would stare at him for too long, you felt his gentle serenity whenever he'd sit near the windows to read a book, you felt his sparks of joy when people greeted him with a good morning or asked if he'd want coffee; but most of all, you still felt that lingering sadness that followed him everywhere he went, a weight he seemed to be all too used to having around.
In some ways, you felt as if you were invading his privacy, and that bothered you. During the day you tried to keep your mind as busy as you could to keep yourself from feeling him; in the late hours of the night though, when you were trying to sleep, there wasn't much you could do.
You have been tossing and turning in bed for probably about two hours now, drifting in and out of sleep. The crescent moon just outside your window seemed to be taunting you, amused with your misfortune. You scoffed as you glared at the natural satellite—great, now you were arguing with the cosmos.
Loki was having a nightmare. You could tell by the rapid beating of his heart and the cold sweat running down his forehead—your abilities went way beyond simply feeling other people's emotions, but sometimes you wished they wouldn't. It's not the first time that you've felt Loki's restless sleep in the short time he's been here. Your heart ached for him; it got you wanting to alleviate his pain.
But you couldn't do that, so you got up from your bed, put on your fluffy slippers, and made a beeline for the kitchen. The air outside was chilly, biting at your warm skin and making you shiver. At this hour of the night, the compound was completely dark and quiet, a big contrast to how it was when the sun was up. You asked Friday to turn on one of the lights in the kitchen, giving the space a dim-lit look as the single light bled into the adjacent living room.
You rubbed the sleep from your eyes, humming the lyrics of the song stuck in your head as you reached for the upper cabinet to grab a mug so you could make yourself some tea. When you turned around again though, a gasp escaped your mouth and you nearly dropped the mug you were holding. You cursed quietly under your breath, placing a hand over your heart; if you weren't fully awake before, you sure were now. "You scared me," you muttered, trying a small smile.
The reason for your lack of sleep stood before you, with dark green slippers that matched his button-up pajama shirt, and his hair the messier you've ever seen it be. "Sorry, it was not my intention," Loki smirked back at you.
It hit you that this was finally the first time you were alone with him, and you'd been caught off guard. You tapped your mug, opening your lips but no words came out. Loki's eyes remained on you, unwavering, yet his gaze was so… soft, gentle even; his eyebrows weren't creased and he patiently waited for you with his hands in the pockets of his checkered pajama pants. He didn't look like the god you usually saw roaming the halls during the day.
"It's alright. I was just making tea," you said finally, gesturing to your mug, "would you like me to make one for you too?"
Loki's surprise at your offer was so great that you felt it in your bones. What was he expecting you to do?
His lips parted only slightly and he straightened his posture before saying; "I would- yes, I would like that."
You couldn't help the full smile that came to your lips and crinkled the side of your eyes, "great, sit down, it'll be ready in just a moment."
The warm mug between your hands warmed up your skin. It felt nice, sitting like this with Loki; in a quiet kitchen with only you and him, and just the lonely light to your left softly highlighting his features in front of you. It was a peaceful silence, and you couldn't help but check if he felt it too.
The rhythm of his heart was calm, his soul felt light and at ease; not completely, but the most you've ever felt from him.
"Why are you here?" His sultry voice snapped you back to reality.
"Uh- I'm sorry?" You frowned.
"Why are you here, if I may ask?" Loki tilted his head amusedly, his fingers tracing the brim of his mug. "Thor mentioned you had… abilities, but he never specified what they are."
Now it was your turn to be surprised by his curiosity for you. "Well, to put it simply, I'm an empath," you told him.
Loki blinked, once, twice, at your response. He looked at you for a moment before inquiring further; "and to put it completely?"
You smirked then, folding your arms over the table. "I can feel people's emotions, if I want to; their anger, happiness, hesitation, fear. But I can also feel their heartbeats, the blood cursing through their bodies. I can tell when they're lying or telling the truth, if they're tired or hurt. And sometimes, I can influence those emotions," you paused, hesitating for a beat, "bring fear, or… take away pain."
Loki grew tense after learning of what you could do. To be fair, most people did at first, you were used to it. Be he felt different, his heartbeat sped up and stayed that way. He'd put his guard up, and it brought a pang of hurt to your chest.
"Are you always feeling everything then?" He narrowed his eyes.
"Gods, no," you breathed, "at first I did, and it was awful. But with time, I learned to control it." You tried smiling at him, but his eyes were downcast, focused on his mug.
You bit your lower lip in nervousness. Looking past Loki and out the window, you could see the first signs of the sunrise peeking over the horizon, dark skies turning a soft lilac and blue; you'd been here longer than you realized.
When Loki glanced up at you again, his bright eyes still held sparks of that same softness from earlier. He pursed his lips in a smile; "thank you for the tea." And with that, he got up and left, leaving you in the company of the first birds who always sang in the mornings.
─── ·❆· ───
You made Loki nervous. It wasn't a bad kind of nervous, it was the kind that sped up his heart and made his cold hands feel clammy.
Out of everyone in the compound, you were the kindest. You'd always shoot him a smile whenever you'd pass by each other in the hallways; you'd always save a seat for him at the table; you always respected his silence whenever you came into the library and caught him reading his book, saying a quiet hello and nothing more, just sitting on one of the armchairs with your own book and allowing him to enjoy his moment, and more recently, your presence too.
When he'd finally learned of your abilities, he got apprehensive, worried even; that you'd pick up on whatever it was that he felt when he was near you, and it would drive you away.
So far, it hasn't happened yet.
The sun was out today, and with it, so was everyone else. In the spacious backyard of the compound, Steve was in charge of the barbecue, and Tony was in charge of the drinks. Natasha had sunglasses covering her eyes while she and Clint bickered over a game of cards; Yelena was sitting beside her sister at the lunch table, however, she seemed to be on Clint's side of the argument. Thor and Banner were laughing together as they made fun of Steve's cooking skills, who tried to defend himself by saying he wasn't actually done yet. Tony looked like he was trying to convince Bucky to drink a dubious-looking beverage, the latter didn't seem too keen on it.
And Loki watched them from afar, from the living room window of his floor. Thor had asked that he join them downstairs, saying something about how he should start trying to fit in and mingle, instead of just existing in the others' presence. Making friends wasn't Loki's forte; as much as he'd fight not to admit it, he was still working up the courage.
With a long sigh, Loki turned around and made his way to the place where he'd been spending most of his free time.
The compound's library was quite huge. One of the few rooms in the whole facility that had warm colors painting the walls and lacked the modern look; tall wooden shelves held thousands of books, a soft beige carpet covered the floor, and there were armchairs and sofas scattered in corners and in-between shelves creating comfortable, isolated nooks for reading. Loki's favorite spot was a worn armchair that stood near one of the big windows, it was surrounded by books that most people didn't read anymore, and the window itself overlooked the treeline in which the sun hid behind at the end of every day; sometimes as he sat there to read, it reminded him of his room back in Asgard.
Loki walked brushing his fingers over the spine of the old books, watching as dust particles danced in the sunlight. But as he rounded the shelf that led to his spot, he abruptly stopped in his tracks, feet glued to the carpet.
You sat cross-legged on the worn armchair, with a thick book lying in your lap that held all of your attention; the sun was shining right behind you, creating a halo above your head and bathing the strands of your hair in golden. You looked like something out of his favorite tale, more enchanting than all of the Midgard poetry books he's ever read.
It seemed like you two were making a habit of bumping into each other unexpectedly.
Loki gulped, squaring his shoulders. A beat passed, and then two, until you finally noticed him from the corner of your eyes. You looked up at him with your eyebrows softly raised in surprise, a gentle smile lifted the sides of your mouth; "Loki, hi."
"Hello," Loki greeted you slowly, his eyes shifting from the book in your lap to your eyes, "shouldn't you be out with the others, enjoying the sun?"
"Should I?" You narrowed your eyes, lazily closing your book and getting up from the armchair. "Shouldn't you?" You asked then, smirking as you raised an eyebrow and took a step towards him.
Loki's heart stumbled inside his chest, he breathed out a laugh. "I'm not big on hangouts."
You hummed, burying your hands in the pockets of your jeans. "Why is that?"
For a moment, Loki dwelled on whether to be honest or come up with an easy lie. But you were looking up at him with such delicacy, such attention, not a trace of hatred or judgment in your warm eyes. It almost looked as if you cared... about him.
Loki breathed in sharply through his nose, the words rolled off his tongue on their own; "I doubt many of your friends would enjoy my presence there."
You blinked up at him, lips parting before you told him quietly; "I would."
There was a distant burning behind Loki's eyes, his mouth felt dry. No one had ever rendered him completely speechless before, yet now, you had done just that. With his silence, you avoided his eyes and ran your tongue over your bottom lip in a motion that he couldn't help but follow.
"And..." You continued, voice sweet as honey, traveling between the bookshelves in the secluded library, "We'll never know if we don't try, right?"
The way you referred to you and him as 'we' got a foreign feeling blossoming inside Loki's chest, all warm and tingly. When you offered him your hand, so you could guide him downstairs to meet the others, he took it.
─── ·❆· ───
After a full week of taking care of the whole city, Saturday nights were a time for having fun and relaxing; aka movie nights with the team. Everyone sat together in the main living room of the compound, Tony had labeled it 'mandatory bonding day'. The room itself was pretty spacious, dimly lit, with two big comfortable couches and a TV that almost covered the whole wall, and a small kitchen right beside it for easy snacks and drinks.
"Right, I'm thinking... Terminator." Tony suggested as he came from the kitchen with an extra large bowl of popcorn in his arms.
"We saw that one already," Steve complained as he fumbled with the remote.
"There are multiple ones," Tony said, smugly, as he plopped himself on the couch and threw popcorn in his mouth.
Thor, who sat beside you, suddenly perked up with a giddy smile on his face; "oh I've always enjoyed that one who has the girl with the long, magic hair." The god gestured to his own hair.
Tony gaped at him, his fingers holding the popcorn were frozen midair. "Tangled?" He exclaimed then, eyebrows raised, "You wanna watch Tangled? in my house?"
You fought to hide a smile. "Technically it's our house," you quipped, after all, you were to blame for Thor's love for the Disney movie.
"Why don't we just watch both? The night is still young," Yelena finally suggested from her spot by the corner of the couch.
As they continued bickering, your eyes finally caught sight of the one you'd been waiting for.
Loki walked into the living room quietly, his socked feet barely making any noise on the expensive flooring. His gaze found yours before he saw anything else in the room, and a gentle, shy smile appeared on his lips.
You'd grown very close, very fast. Loki had started seeking your presence more and more each passing day; during the mornings he'd wait for you with an extra cup of coffee in hand, during the missions it was already routine that you two were a pair, and during the night you never parted ways without him planting a kiss on your forehead first.
Never in your life had you met someone quite like him, who carried such a bruised heart and still managed to be so loving. It made you wonder if anyone had ever bothered to see how beautiful his soul was, for you had fallen in love with it before you even touched his skin.
You gently patted the vacant seat on your left side, lifting the thin blanket covering your legs so Loki could sit down, and once he did you draped part of it over his legs as well.
"What's today's punishment?" Loki smirked, making himself comfortable beside you. His shoulder flush with yours.
"Stop it, movie nights are nice. I know you secretly enjoy them too," you chuckled, bumping his knee with yours. His proximity raised goosebumps all over your skin, and if you weren't so focused on your own feelings, you would've felt how much Loki's heart was racing as well.
"I only come to these because you do too," Loki mumbled, his eyes focused on the TV and a frown appearing on his eyebrows as the first scenes from Tangled played on the screen.
Your breath caught on your throat. He had said it so casually, so easily. You wondered if he had even realized the weight of his own words. "Right," you whispered, a little breathless.
It didn't take long for the only light in the room to be the one coming from the TV. When Tangled hit the 45-minute mark, Tony was already snoring and Thor had finished two bowls of popcorn. You, however, were wide awake and fully aware of Loki's arm resting on the back of the couch. What a cliche move, you thought to yourself, your cheeks burning hot and biting back a smile.
Loki's face as he watched the movie was nothing short of comical, one would think he was watching a period drama; his lips hovering ever so slightly before he'd scoff at a musical scene, his eyes softening as the romance between Rapunzel and Flynn blossomed, the way he mindlessly played with the ends of your hair. You watched him more than you watched the movie, and you didn't miss the way he froze and gulped when you finally rested your head on his shoulder.
─── ·❆· ───
The day had started out fine; a cold yet sunny morning, your fingers brushing Loki's when he handed you your cup of coffee, no eminent trouble in the city, everything was normal and fine; until it took a turn for the worse.
You didn't hear the fight, you didn't know exactly what caused it, but you felt it immediately. Anger, hurt, and pain were suddenly heavy in the air even through the closed door of your bedroom. As soon as a shiver ran up and down your spine you got up and all but ran outside to chase the somber feeling.
The elevator doors of your floor weren't even fully open yet when Loki busted his way through them, Thor hot on his heels.
"I knew it was a mistake coming here," Loki snapped, his steps fast as he put as much distance between himself and Thor as he could, nearly running straight into you in the process.
"You know what, brother," Thor began, he had stopped walking, standing in the middle of the living room, "Maybe it really was a mistake to bring you here, you don't care about anyone but yourself, it's almost as if you enjoy hurting people, you can't help it. It'll always be like this, that's why you're better off on your own." Thor wasn't shouting, but his words rang loudly in the room; his chest heaving when he stopped speaking.
You had held your breath the entire time, gripping the back of a kitchen stool until your knuckles turned white. Thor was angry, you could feel it even without being near him, but he didn't mean what he had said, not entirely. Thor's emotions were a passing wind on your skin though, for who you really felt, stood just a few feet behind you.
Loki had his back turned to his brother when he spoke, and he didn't turn around after. Even without looking at him, you could feel the way he trembled, unsteady hands closed into tight fists to mask his hurt; he gulped back a sob, and kept on walking to his bedroom without a word.
You could choke with the amount of pain radiating off of Loki; heavy, sickening, all-encompassing pain that you felt so vividly in your skin and bones. You only shot Thor an angry glance and muttered; "Damnit Thor," before turning around hastily. You thought you heard Thor calling after you, but you decided to ignore him, your priorities already set.
You ran after Loki, catching up just before his door slammed shut. Taking a deep breath, you walked into his bedroom and softly closed the door behind you with a click.
You'd never actually been in Loki's room before, so you took a single moment to glance around. The room itself was a little bare, with only the necessities such as a double bed, a dresser, a desk, a small bookshelf, and the door that led to his bathroom. You made a mental note to gift him something to liven up his space; maybe a plant.
Loki had his back turned to you still, both his hands resting on his waist as his head hung low. But you knew he knew it was you there with him, by the simple fact that he was allowing you to stay.
The silence was a heavy one, packed with the electricity of two souls tightly holding onto each other. Loki was trying so hard to keep all his pain in control, his shoulders shaking with each breath he took; but you could feel it as if it was your own.
"Loki," you said his name in nothing but breath, testing the waters. You took half a step toward him as you fidgeted with your hands.
He didn't answer. You weren't expecting him to.
You pursed your lips before saying; "he didn't mean it," your voice was choked and took effort to come out, the back of your eyes already burning, "what Thor said. He- he didn't mean it."
A few beats passed, and then; "doesn't matter if he did." Loki's words cracked in the middle, it was the most broken you'd ever heard him sound. "He's right."
"He's not," you told him in the same heartbeat, not a tint of hesitation in your tone.
Loki turned around, his gaze finally finding yours and there were tears pooling at the bottom lid of his bright eyes. "Yes, he is," he took a single big step toward you, nearly closing the distance between you and him. Loki's lips trembled as he struggled to keep talking; "and why is it that you care? What's in it for you?"
He was hurt, and he was frustrated, and he was angry; you knew that. Still, you couldn't help but be taken aback by his question. What could he even mean by that? Did he really believe that all this time that you'd been dancing around each other's feelings, it wasn't real?
"Loki, I-" you stuttered, not knowing how to say it without baring your heart in the process. Your hesitation got Loki avoiding his eyes from yours, and you forced yourself to go on. "There's nothing 'in it for me' I just... care about you."
Still waiting for the other shoe to drop, Loki softly shook his head, scoffing. His tears were a blink away from spilling, he felt as if barbed wire was wrapped around his throat, and his heart threatened to jump from his chest and straight into your hands.
It scared him. How easily you could make his walls crumble like paper in the rain. He flinched slightly when he felt the ghost of your touch on his cheek, blinking multiple times when your thumb brushed away a single tear rolling down his cheek. You touched him as if he were porcelain, and yet it still broke him.
"Is it that hard to believe that you're important to me?" You asked then, voice nothing but a whisper in the short space separating your bodies. With your hand still holding his cheek, you forced his eyes back on yours. "You have a good heart, Loki. I just wish you could see it the way I do. I wish everyone could see it."
The crooked smile he gave you nearly made your own tears fall. "You don't know what you're talking about, you don't know what I've done," he told you quietly, more than anything, he sounded utterly defeated.
"But I do know," your free hand found one of his then, and you tangled your fingers together loosely, "I might not have been with the Avengers when you attacked New York, but I was still in New York. And I still mean it, you could tell me every single bad thing you've ever done and I'd still tell you how good you are, because I see it. Every single day, Loki. I feel you every single day, and I can feel all this-" Your words caught in your throat and you tasted your tears on your lips. "-All this pain that you carry around and you still choose to be good."
Too many emotions swam behind his eyes for you to put a finger in any of them. But tears were running freely down Loki's cheeks now, pooling against your hand resting on his cheek.
"What did you-" he tried, gasping for air as if he was underwater. This was foreign territory. You had a place in his heart no one else could ever have, he realized, and his heart was beating faster than his mind knew what to do with. "You've been prying into my emotions without me knowing?" He sounded more desperate than annoyed.
"I didn't want to," You explained quickly, "I- I never meant to, but for some reason, I can't block you out." Shrugging weakly, you slowly dropped the hand resting on his cheek, missing the way he glanced down in search of your warmth. "I tried. I really tried."
There was a vulnerability in Loki's eyes you'd never seen before. He looked at you as if he'd just realized what love is. You wondered if you mimicked the same gaze—you sure felt it.
Loki shuffled in his stance. His hand, still holding onto yours, tightened its grip. "I'm-" He avoided your eyes, looking somewhere past your shoulder, "I'm sorry you had to feel all that."
You softened at his words, shaking your head and taking another step forward until your sneakers bumped his shoes. "Wasn't your fault," you whispered.
Loki gulped back a sob after you spoke, and that was the last straw for you to let go of his hand and pull his body to yours in an embrace.
He melted into you.
Loki's fingers dug into the fabric of your shirt and he buried his head against your shoulder—you soon felt it becoming damp, yet you only hugged him tighter. With the desperation he was holding you with, you wondered when was the last time someone had held him.
The soft sobs escaping him were muffled against you. And you couldn't help but stroke his back, the tips of your fingers burying into his very soul. "I'm sorry you had to go through all of this alone." You spoke near his ear, feeling the goosebumps that raised on his skin. "You never deserved it," you promised.
You weren't sure how much time passed, you stayed there for as long as Loki needed you to. When he eventually pulled away, he didn't go far, his hands kept holding your body close to him as if he was afraid you'd leave if he let go.
His bright eyes didn't hold a storm anymore, they were more like a calm sea. A soft frown etched itself into his eyebrows, "did you… take away my pain?"
You chuckled quietly, "No, I can't take away people's emotions." You lifted a hand until your fingertips could brush the skin on his forehead, "But I can make them lighter." You traced an invisible line over his eyebrow and until you reached his cheekbone, "Make the weight just a little bit easier to carry."
Loki leaned into your touch, almost closing his eyes. His hands that rested on your back traced your spine and pulled you closer. "Darling, you've been making it easier ever since the first day I met you."
⋆* ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ
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Summary: "It's good to be home," you think as you arrive back in Hawkins, Indiana; not only three years older, but also as a mother.
Pairing: Steve Harrington x Reader
Warnings: Just a shit ton of fluff
A/N: This took 8 consecutive hours to write so I hope you guys like it!! It's 3.8k words 😬 my back hurts from slouching over my laptop for so long so I'll edit this later.
A year and a half later
You and Steve have been doing so well at co-parenting for Penelope thus far. You had slowly eased Steve into her life, and she happily accepted him. It took her a while to comfortably call him ‘dad’ but once she started, that’s practically all she could say.
Steve doesn’t think he’ll ever forget the day when she confidently called him ‘dad’ without him or you having to tell her.
It was late at night- well, it was late for Penelope to still be awake, and you were trying everything to put her to sleep but she wouldn’t stop crying.
“Shhh, Penny, it’s okay.” You try to comfort her in your arms.
Her cries echo off your newly purchased apartment and you groan, rocking the toddler to try and calm her down.
Spoiler alert: It didn’t work.
“Baby, please calm down-”
“I want daddy!” She cries louder and you halt your movements.
“What?”
“I want daddy!” Penelope sobs in your arms.
“I-” You’re stunned for a moment because this was the first-time hearing Penelope call Steve ‘daddy’ on her own without you or him coaxing her to say it. “Daddy will come over tomorrow, okay? But you need to go-”
“No!” She yelled, “I want daddy now!”
It didn’t seem like she was going to let up any time soon, so you walk over to the phone and hastily dial Steve’s number. It was only 8 o’clock so you knew he’d still be up- hopefully.
It rang twice before he picked up. “Hello?”
“Steve,” you breathed. “Thank god you’re still awake. Listen, I know it’s kinda last minute but Penelope won’t go to sleep and she keeps crying and asking for you so do you think you could maybe-”
“I’ll be there in a bit. Leave the door unlocked for me, yeah?” You could hear him moving around at his place, probably putting his shoes on.
“Okay, thank you so much.” You let out a sigh of relief.
Penelope’s cries get louder and you think Steve can hear her because he murmurs, “My poor baby…” You hear his car keys jingling soon after. “I’m on my way.”
A few minutes go by and Steve knocks two times before coming in. You know he probably sped all the way over and you make a mental note to scold him after Penelope goes to sleep.
“I’m here,” he huffed out, seemingly out of breath.
Upon hearing Steve’s voice, Penelope lifts her head from your shoulder and turns to her father all teary-eyed. “Daddy!” She cried, leaning out of your arms and toward him.
He visibly freezes at her words and his eyes pan over to you, wide. “Did she just-” he’s cut off by your daughter's cries of ‘daddy’ as she tries to grab him. “Come here, baby. Daddy’s here, don’t worry, sweetheart.”
He rubs her back soothingly and she slowly lays her head on his shoulder, doing the little hiccup-sob combination as she starts to calm down.
“Daddy…” She cried, “Stay.”
“It’s okay, sweet girl.” He hushes. “Daddy’s not going anywhere, alright?”
This seems to ease her mind because a few minutes later, she’s fully asleep in his arms. You silently guide him to her room where you watch as he puts her down and tucks her in. She stirs a bit but Steve gently pats her chest and she stills.
Once the both of you were sure she wasn’t going to wake up, you exit her room and walk back to the living room. The moment you enter the room, Steve pulls you into a hug.
“She called me daddy.” He beamed happily. “She fucking called me daddy, oh my god I feel like my heart is gonna burst open, I’m so happy right now.”
You hug him back, giggling a bit. “Yeah, it surprised me too.”
The both of you stay like that for a bit before he tears himself away from you and checks the time.
“It’s getting late, I should head home.” He says with a bit of a frown. “I can come by tomorrow if it’s alright with you?”
“Nuh uh,” you shake your head. “You promised your daughter that you’d stay.”
“Are you sure?”
“Of course.”
You tell him he can take your room and you’ll sleep on the couch, but he refuses and says he’ll sleep on the couch instead. You protest but he shuts it down and you let out a huff but say ‘okay’ before going to get him a spare pillow and blanket for the night.
You had started easing Steve into Penelope’s life little by little, starting with him visiting her at your place whenever he could (which he made sure to visit every single day no matter what). After she was comfortable with him being around, you segued into him taking her out, whether it be to the park, or to get ice cream (you also tagged along so that she was more comfortable). From that, he started taking her out, just him and her and not too long after, she started staying the night at his house.
He had done up a spare bedroom at his place just for her and she loved it so much. He pulled out all the stops for his little girl.
Telling his parents about Penelope was a bit rough. He told you that they were a bit skeptical about him being the father but when Steve whipped a picture of little Penelope out of his wallet and showed them, they went silent.
From there, they were disappointed that he was so careless that it resulted in a child. He told them that they could be mad at him all they want but that he has a daughter now and he’s stepping up and although he doesn’t have a great relationship with them, he would love it if Penelope did.
They were obviously a bit hesitant but after meeting Penelope, they let their guards down. It made Steve happy that they showered her with love and affection but it also made him a bit upset because he never really experienced that from them.
He felt like this was a turning point for them, though. A good turning point.
Today was Penelope’s 4th birthday party and Steve insisted that it should be at his house. You didn’t fight him on it. You figured his house would be better suited for a birthday party than your little apartment.
A knock on the door alerts your ears and you quickly glance into the backyard, seeing Steve run around with Penelope, before opening the front door.
“Sorry I’m late,” Eddie huffs out, “the band stayed and performed late and I didn’t get home till way later and then when I woke up I couldn’t remember where I put Pen’s gift so this whole morning I was tearing up my place looking for it.” He then shows you a poorly wrapped gift box with a smile. “But I found it.”
You giggle. “You didn’t miss much, Penny’s just been playing with the kids and Steve so far.”
“Thank god.” Eddie sighs. “Where do I put this?”
“We have a table outside for gifts. Come on.” You beckon him to follow you.
Eddie sets the gift on the table then makes his rounds saying hi to everyone. Steve is chasing Penelope around the yard and he lets out a playful roar as he picks her up and catches her. She screams and he laughs, giving her a kiss before setting her down carefully.
It was then that she spotted one of her favorite Uncle’s. “Uncle Eds!!”
The little girl runs over to Eddie as fast as she could, her pink tutu that she insisted on wearing even though it was cold outside, flowing about.
“Pen!” The curly-haired musician exclaimed as he knelt down and captured her in a hug. “How’s my favorite birthday girl?”
Penelope giggles. “Uncle Eds, I’m the only birthday girl!”
“You’re right.” He smiles before giving her a big kiss. “You’re getting so big, Pen. Don’t go growing up on me too fast.”
“Ima grow bigger and faster!”
“No! Don’t say that, I’ll cry!” Eddie pulls a dramatic frowny face which makes Penelope laugh.
Steve walks up beside you with his hands on his hips; a typical Steve Harrington pose. “Please tell her to stop saying that, she tells me all the time that she’s a big girl and it breaks my heart.”
Steve pouts at his daughter and she giggles in Eddie’s arms. “Daddy don’t be sad, when I get bigger ima take care of you!”
Steve’s eyebrow quirks up and he points a finger at her. “I’ll hold you to that, little lady.”
“She’s not getting bigger, not on my watch.” Eddie says as he squishes her in a hug. “I’m gonna squeeze you in a little box so you stay little forever!”
Penelope gasps. “No!”
“Yes!”
Penelope wiggles out of Eddie's grip and starts running away from him. “No! Never ever ever!”
Eddie runs after her, telling her that he’ll never let her grow up. You giggle, watching the two and Steve turns to you.
“Everyone here?” He asks.
“Yeah, Eds was the last one to show up.”
“Alright,” he nods. “I say we let her play for a little while longer then sing happy birthday?”
“I was thinking the same thing, Harrington.”
He points to his head, then to yours and says, “Great minds think alike, Y/L/N.”
It was fairly easy to slip back into your friendship with Steve. After the awkwardness of him finding out that Penelope was his, the two of you acted as if no time had passed. It was refreshing and you didn’t realize how much you missed being around him.
To say your feelings for Steve were gone, would be a lie. Your feelings for Steve never really went away. Even if you tried so very hard to leave them behind, they only grew more when Steve would play with Penelope or spend time with her in general. He adapted to his role as a father rather quickly and you weren’t going to lie, it was attractive.
You would never tell him, though. You didn’t want to ruin the dynamic that the two of you had. Everything, so far, was good.
You had tried going on a date a while back but it fell through once you told the guy that you had a child. Steve was very upset about it.
The date had lasted less than an hour. You were having a good time, asking questions about each other when you mentioned you had a daughter. The guy’s demeanor changed quickly and he closed himself off. It was awkward after that. He confirmed that you had a daughter once more and when you said yes, he cleared his throat.
“Um, I’m sorry but I don’t think this is going to work out.” He says. “You’re a great girl but-”
“But me having a kid is a problem.” You finish his sentence in a mono-tone pitch.
“No!” The guys exclaimed. “It’s just- It’s kind of-”
He stumbles over his words, trying to save face but you shake your head and pull out money for your meal, placing it on the table.
“It’s fine. I know me having a child isn’t ideal but maybe you should try to at least be an adult about it.”
The guy scoffs. “I’m not about to play step-daddy to someone else’s kid.”
You roll your eyes and stand up. “Grow up.” You say before walking out.
You understand that dating someone who has a child could be a bit scary but he didn’t even give it a chance! He closed off the minute you mentioned Penelope.
You pull up to Steve’s house and slam your door shut in annoyance.
‘I’m not about to play step-daddy to someone else’s kid’
Get real.
You knock on the door and patiently wait for Steve to open it.
“Hey,” he says when he sees you on the other side. “Why are you here so early? I thought you had a date?”
“I did.” He can sense the annoyance in your voice and he moves aside to let you in. You put your purse down on his table and turn to face him. “He wasn’t too keen on the fact that I have a kid.”
Steve’s eyebrows furrow and he’s about to ask what the dude said but it’s like you read his mind because you tell him.
“Said he’s not about to play step-daddy to a kid that’s somebody else’s.”
“What the hell?” He has a look of disgust flushed across his face.
“Yeah,” you nod. “He didn’t even wait a few minutes before he was telling me that it ‘wasn’t going to work out’ between us! The minute I mentioned Penny, he shut down.” You huff out, running your fingers through your now messy hair.
“What a dick!” Steve is visibly baffled. “Welcome to the real world! There’s a chance that you might date someone who has a kid!”
“Right?” You agree. “Like I get it, I’m young and I have a toddler and yeah that’s kind of scary but he didn’t even give it a chance!”
Steve’s hands are on his hips as he shakes his head. “God, what an asshole. I’m sorry, Y/N.”
“Eh,” you shrug. “Probably dodged a bullet anyway.”
“Definitely.”
“I’m never gonna date again. I’m gonna be lonely forever!” You groan.
“No you won’t,” Steve reassures as he pats your shoulder. “There’s someone out there who will want to be with you and doesn’t mind that you have a kid.”
“Suuuuuure,” you mumble. “When you find him, let me know, alright?”
Steve chuckled. “You got it, sweetheart.”
Penelope comes running into the room shortly after, practically leaping into your arms and you cradle her to you. She tells you that her and Steve are gonna watch movies all night long but both you and Steve know she’s most likely going to fall asleep in the middle of the first movie.
She asks if you’re going to stay and watch movies with them and Steve encourages you to do so.
“What, you’re gonna go home and sulk about what a crappy date this was? Nuh uh. Stay and watch movies with your family.” He tells you.
“Yeah!” Penelope adds. “Watch movies with family! Daddy got the movie with the kitties!”
Aristocats has been Penelope’s favorite movie recently.
“Okay, okay, I’ll stay.”
Penelope is happy and the three of you move to the couch. Steve puts the movie in and Penny sits in between the two of you, knocking out exactly midway into the film.
Steve puts her in her room then comes back out, coaxing you to stay for another movie. It works and he pops in ‘Just One Of The Guys’. You two enjoy each other's company and toward the end of the movie, you and Steve are fast asleep on the couch.
You gathered everyone around the table that held the cake as Penelope climbed on top of the chair. Steve puts a pink birthday hat on her little head and she insists that both you and him put one on as well.
You oblige with her wishes and put a pink hat on. Jonathan wastes no time with taking pictures of the three of you. He’d develop them as soon as he could and give them to you.
Penelope’s eyes scanned the yard as she beamed happily at everyone. Both yours and Steve’s parents were there, the Party, Eddie, Nancy, Robin, and Jonathan- all in attendance for your daughter's fourth birthday party. Your heart swelled knowing all the people that were present loved your daughter just as much as you and Steve did.
You all sang happy birthday to Penelope and she blew out the candles, causing everyone to cheer.
“Wait!” She shouts with her eyes squeezed shut. “I’m still wishing!”
“Oh! Sorry, sweet girl. Everyone shhh!” Steve says.
Everyone quiets down and Penelope is heard murmuring underneath her breath but no one can make out what she’s saying. After a bit, she opens her eyes and smiles.
“I’m done!”
Everyone cheers again and you cut the cake and plate it while Steve hands them out. When Penelope’s done eating her slice of cake, you start opening the gifts.
“Okay, this one is from Uncle Dusty.” You hand her the gift and she tears it open excitedly.
“A tea party!!” She yells out happily, turning to her father. “Daddy, we can play tea party! Thank you, Uncle Dusty! You’re my favorite!”
Dustin tells the four-year-old that she’s welcome as he beamed at her words. Eddie, however, wasn’t taking it too well.
“What?!” He exclaimed. “What about me? I was your favorite earlier!”
Penelope giggles. “Uncle dusty gave me a tea party so he’s my favorite now!”
Eddie sulks as she continues to open her gifts and Dustin sticks his tongue out at the musician in a mocking manner. Not too long after, however, Penelope opens Eddie’s gift.
“Oh. My. Gosh.” She enunciated every word. “It’s a guitar!! Uncle Eds, it looks like the one you have!! Oh my gosh, oh my gosh, oh my gosh!!”
Although it was a toy guitar, you and Steve knew you would never know what silence felt like after this moment.
Steve rubs his face with his hands when he sees the gift. “Oh no…”
Penelope had been obsessed with Eddie’s guitar from the moment she saw it. She always wanted Eddie to play it and she always wanted to touch it. Eddie would tell you she was a musical prodigy in the making.
You and Steve give each other the same look before you say, “Say goodbye to the peacefulness.”
Steve groans while Penelope jumps up and down happily. “Thank you, thank you, thank you! You’re my favorite now, Uncle Eds! We can play guitar together!!”
“Any time you want, Pen.” Eddie smiles at his niece before locking eyes with Dustin who stared at him with a blank face. Eddie mouths, “In your face!”
You finish up the gifts and the kids play with Penny for a little bit before you can tell that she’s beginning to get tired. You and Steve end the birthday party, thanking everyone for coming as they left. Once they were gone, Steve put Penelope down for a very much needed nap while you started picking up.
Steve joins you not too long after and when you’ve finished cleaning up, the pair of you slump down on the couch, exhausted.
“Penelope’s fourth birthday party was a success. Nice work, Y/L/N.” He raises his hand for a high-five, and you meet him halfway.
“Can’t take all the credit. You did most of the work.” You tell him.
“Yeah, but you gave birth to her. If you didn’t, we wouldn’t be here celebrating her turning four.” He smiles at you affectionately before his smile drops. “Oh my god, she’s four. My baby’s four.”
“Yep,” you nod. “And she’ll only get older from here.”
“Don’t remind me.” He pouts. “I want her to stay little forever.”
You laugh as he sulks for a bit. The two of you sit in silence and you close your eyes for a little before you feel Steve shift in his seat.
“Y/N?” He says and you open your eyes to find him facing you.
“Yeah?”
Steve bites his lip and his fingers tap against his jean-covered thigh. His habit every time he’s nervous.
“Um,” he starts. “We’ve been doing good, right? I mean, co-parenting and all.”
“Yeah…” You have no clue where this conversation is headed.
“And our relationship with each other is good. We don’t fight or argue or anything-”
“Steve,” you cut him off. “Spit it out already.”
You start to think he’s trying to ease into telling you that he was seeing someone, and you were preparing yourself to hear it, but his next words threw you off.
“I have feelings for you.” He says quickly and your eyebrows furrow as you sit up to look at him more clearly. “Well, I’ve always had feelings for you. They never went away. I just never said anything because you said you weren’t ready to revisit us romantically but, I don’t know, today just-” He sighs deeply, his fingers combing through his hair. “You look so beautiful today- well, you look beautiful every day and we work so well together that it got me thinking about what life would be like if we were, you know, together. As a couple.”
“Steve…”
“I know, okay? I know I fucked up back then and I know you’re hesitant but god, Y/N, you take up so much space in my head. You and Penny. That’s all I care about. That’s all I want and that’s all I’ll ever need. Ever since you walked out of my house almost five years ago, I haven’t stopped thinking about you. I haven’t been on a date since- well, since I was with Nancy because I didn’t want to be with anyone else but you. I want to be with you, Y/N. I want us to be a family, officially. Me, you, and Penny in a big house. I wanna come home from work and know that I hit the jackpot because I get to see my two favorite girls every single day of my life. I want-” He takes a minute to breathe before he takes your hand softly. “I want you.”
He’s looking into your eyes and you just know that he means every word that he’s said just now.
You don’t know if it’s butterflies in your stomach or if you’re gonna throw up.
“Steve,” you breathe out.
“Please say you feel the same way.” He says softly. “If you don’t, that’s okay and we can just go back to how we were before I confessed all of this but if there’s even a slight chance that you feel the same way, please give me the chance to make you happy for the rest of your life.”
A smile makes its way to your lips and your eyebrow quirks up. “For the rest of my life, huh?”
“Mmm Hmm,” he hums. “For the rest of your life, for the rest of my life, for the rest of our lives… I’m in it for the long run.”
“Steve,” you say softly. You watch as the boy in front of you hangs on to your every word, anticipating what you’ll say next. He looks nervous and scared, but also hopeful. You lean in and kiss his cheek softly. His eyes close as he relishes in the feeling. “You’re in luck because I feel the same way.”
His eyes snap open and they sparkle in the light. “Really?”
“Really.” You giggle. “My feelings never went away either.”
“Oh my god.” He breathed out, pulling you into a hug.
You stay like that for a bit before pulling away. “I want to take this slow, though. I wanna do this right, I don’t want to rush things, Steve.”
He looks at you affectionately, rubbing the skin of your cheek with his thumb.
“I’ll do whatever you want, Y/N, as long as I get to be with you in the end.”
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