#every time I try I end up regretting it massively

[cleo-fox]

Overtime

Summary: Sometimes, working overtime isn’t all that bad.

Pairings: Loki x Female Reader

Warnings: Smut, 18+ minors DNI, sex, cunnilingus, teasing, light bondage, office romance.

Series: Overtime (I don't have a masterlist for this, but if you enjoy these idiots, check out Daylight, a sort of sequel).

A/N: This was largely written prior to season 2 and posted right before episode 4, so it’s not entirely canon compliant and the parts that are may be compliant by accident.

Also, @give-me-a-moose and I were on a similar wavelength about Loki angrily reading romance novels and I would strongly recommend checking out her fic The Imagine Nation if you too are enthralled by this idea.

You don’t think that Mobius intended to keep Loki’s desk behind yours.

“It’s temporary,” he tells you apologetically. “He just needs somewhere to go for now, until I figure out what to do with him.”

“You’re talking about him like he’s a stray cat that you found,” you say.

“You won’t even know he’s there, I promise.”

“You’re still doing it.”

Mobius sighs and puts on his most sincere, earnest expression—the one that he always uses when he’s about to ask you for a stupidly massive favor.

And it’s only because you almost never, ever see this look from him that you back down.

“Okay, fine,” you say. “But he’d better be on his best behavior.”

Mobius puts his palms together and tips them toward you. “Thank you. You will not regret this, I promise.”

You sigh and shake your head. “Just remember this next time you’re budgeting for raises.”

But then—in a move that you certainly don’t expect—Loki ends up sticking around. And, in the subtle way that the stray you’ve been feeding slowly turns into your cat, Loki’s temporary desk becomes his permanent desk. And strangely enough, Mobius’ assurances turn out to be more correct than not: Loki does a lot of fieldwork and is often away; when he is at his desk, it tends to be because he is working on more complicated missions, the ones that require poring over mountains of files looking for patterns and trying to untangle the slippery mess of time itself.

Your work is decidedly less glamorous than Loki’s—almost no fieldwork, lots of files. Endless files. Some days you feel as though you must have seen every file in the TVA’s extensive library and then you’re immediately proven wrong by another wing of filing cabinets that you swear wasn’t even there before.

Although he is generally well-behaved as your desk neighbor, Loki’s presence has a way of distracting you. Even if you didn’t know who he was, your gaze would still naturally drift his way, lingering on those regal cheekbones, that ink black hair, that cunning smirk. The way that the fabric of his dress pants clings to his thighs certainly doesn’t help, to say nothing of how his forearms look with his shirtsleeves rolled up. He can make your heart start to race with no more than a casual glance in your direction and god help you if he gives you one of those devastating smiles. Luckily, you don’t think he takes that much notice of you. You have the sort of pleasantly dull exchanges of coworkers who don’t really know each other and he is almost painfully polite to you. It’s a strong departure from the way he interacts with others—with others, he is bold, charming, sarcastic, talkative, a far cry from the more subdued, almost courtly tone he strikes with you. It’s a difference that is so stark that you can’t help but attribute it to some sort of negative feeling on his end.

“How’s it going with Loki?” Mobius asks you during a one-on-one meeting a couple of months after Loki’s temporary desk becomes his permanent desk. “He’s behaving himself, right?”

“It’s been fine,” you say, “though truthfully, I don’t think he likes me all that much.”

“What? Of course he likes you,” Mobius says. “Why wouldn’t he like you? You’re lovely.”

You shrug. “I dunno, he’s just different with me than he is with everyone else. Like…overly polite. It’s like he thinks I’m going to send him to the principal’s office or something.”

“Let me get this straight,” says Mobius. “First you were worried that he wouldn’t behave himself and now you’re worried that he’s too well-behaved?”

Privately, you realize he has a point. Outwardly, though, you’re not going to admit it. The sardonic tilt of Mobius’ mouth suggests that he knows this.

“No, I just…I don’t think he likes me all that much,” you say. “And he’s entitled to that. People don’t like each other all the time, it’s not a big deal.”

This is also a little bit of a lie—you do wish he liked you. Loki is so magnetic it’s hard not to want his attention. And with the matter of your silly little crush, well…that doesn’t help either.

Mobius sighs. “I think you’re overthinking this. He likes you, sometimes it just takes him a little time to warm up. He’s a bit of a prickly guy.”

You bite down the urge to point out that you’ve seen him warm to other people almost immediately. This conversation has already gone on longer than you want and you are edging dangerously close to having to admit that you care so much because you have a big stupid crush on him, which is obviously unacceptable.

“Well, the point is that it’s fine,” you say quickly, trying to project an aura of cool confidence. “I don’t have any complaints, he seems like he’s settling in, so let’s move on. Did you have any feedback on my recent report?”

The furrow between Mobius’ eyebrows deepens just slightly, the only indication that he doesn’t fully believe you. But for whatever reason, he decides to let it go and follows your change in topic without further comment.

This is one of the reasons you like Mobius as much as you do: he always seems to know the right moment to push and the right moment to bend.

You’re not sure if your relationship with Loki would have changed had it not been for the problem of Charles Berlitz.

The joke around the office is that after Mobius convinced Loki to work for the TVA, he needed something new to obsess over and Charles Berlitz was the next best option. It’s hard to say exactly who Berlitz is, as he has a tendency of showing up, well…everywhere. He is quite literally in every timeline, at least as far as anyone can tell. Sometimes he is an author, penning serious, scholarly essays on outlandish theories like the Bermuda Triangle and the Philadelphia Experiment. He seems to have a fondness for all manner of schemes—he was responsible for introducing both homeopathy and multi-level marketing to no fewer than sixty different timelines. His ability to peddle bullshit naturally led him to politics—pick any rebellion, coup, or campaign on any given timeline and there’s a good chance you’ll also find Charles Berlitz.

Scammers and con artists are not atypical in your line of work, but what makes Charles Berlitz an enduring mystery is that he has never been found. You can have reputable documentary evidence that Berlitz was present at a certain time and location, but if you show up to investigate, he is never there. There have been some glimpses over the years—a shadowy face in the back of a crowd, the hem of a cloak disappearing behind a corner—but nothing concrete or substantive.

“Our ghost in the timeline,” Mobius had said in one of his more poetic moments at an all staff meeting, his voice overly hushed and dramatic. You had seen Loki roll his eyes and you had to fake a coughing fit to hide your laugh.

Time moves differently at the TVA, so it’s hard to say how long Mobius has been working on this case when he makes a breakthrough, but it’s not terribly long after your conversation about Loki. A campaign button had been found in an apartment that Berlitz rented for two years in the French Quarter. That particular campaign button could only have existed in one specific timeline and its distribution was limited. You aren’t entirely clear on all of the details, but Mobius seems to have a plan.

And unfortunately, that plan involves you giving up most of your weekend to work.

It’s near quitting time on what passes for a Friday at the TVA. Loki has been in today and you can hear him starting to pack up. Technically, he’s got twenty minutes of work left, but you’re not about to tell him that.

You doodle absently on your notepad. Technically, you’ve also got twenty minutes of work left, but realistically: nothing is happening.

“Oh, great, you’re both still here.”

In general, this phrase has never meant good news for you and when you look up, you see Mobius with a sizable armful of files.

Also not a great sign.

Mobius plunks the stack of files directly on your desk. “There’s been a development with Berlitz. I need you both to review these now.”

“It’s Friday,” says Loki, affronted. “Surely it can wait until Monday.”

“No can do. I need this done by Sunday at the latest,” says Mobius. “This is an all hands on deck situation.”

Loki glances pointedly at the office around you, which has already started emptying out for the weekend.

“All hands on deck, but most hands are already in the field,” Mobius concedes. “Which is why I need the two of you—” He points to you. “You because you’re good—” He gestures to Loki. “And you because you’ve got desk duty.”

“I beg your pardon—” begins Loki.

“He’s grounded,” Mobius says to you in an exaggerated stage whisper.

This is not surprising to you: you had heard a rumor last week about an incident that had occurred on a mission to the inauguration of Richard Nixon and you suspect that these two events are likely connected.

You look at the pile of paperwork on your desk. You could probably get through it on your own in a couple of hours, but if Loki’s helping, maybe you still have a shot at having Saturday to yourself. You bite back a sigh. “What do you need me to find?”

“Anything that mentions anyone from the Lucchese crime family or Nero Variant N2815,” says Mobius. “I’ll go get the rest.”

Your heart sinks. Farewell, Saturday. “There’s more?” you say.

“It’ll be triple overtime, I already got it approved!” he calls over his shoulder

You sigh and glance at Loki who is scowling at the pile of files as though they’d wronged him personally.

There’s a long moment of silence before you speak. “Is there any truth to the rumor I’ve been hearing about the Nixon inauguration?” you ask.

“If it involved a hot air balloon, then yes,” he says rather tonelessly.

“Well.” You pause as you stare at the pile of papers. “At least it was worth it.”

That at least earns you a hint of a smile.

*

Several hours later, your stomach is growling and you’ve developed a rather impressive crick in your neck.

You lean back in your chair, stretching your neck to the side and rubbing the knot that is pulsing in your upper trapezius. Office work has done nothing positive for your posture in general, but tonight’s work has you hunched over more than usual and your neck is aching.

You and Loki have made good progress, but your pile of finished and sorted files is scarcely comparable to the full cart that Mobius had brought in. Back when the evening was new and you weren’t quite so tired, you’d been optimistic about possibly having half a Saturday free from work; that hope has slipped away the longer the evening has dragged on. Now you’re hoping that you’ll still have a bit of Sunday to yourself and even that feels unlikely.

Your stomach growls again. You should probably eat something—you’d worked through your regular dinner hour in a fit of misplaced optimism. The cafeteria is closed this time of night, but there’s a vending machine not far from your office that has shitty coffee and mostly edible sandwiches.

You stand and stretch, stifling a yawn as you turn around. “I’m gonna grab a coffee and some dinner,” you say. “Do you want anything?”

Loki looks up at you from the file in front of him, blinking somewhat dazedly and running a hand through his messy curls. “I’d like to stretch my legs a bit, if you don’t mind the company.”

You honestly didn’t expect him to want to join you. It’s a pleasant surprise, certainly, but also a little nerve wracking in the way that interacting with Loki always is. He’s so handsome and aloof and you’re not quite sure how to talk to him without acting like a total fool.

But you’re also not about to say no, either.

“Of course,” you say, “I don’t mind at all.”

The TVA is unusually quiet at this time of night—the steady hum of fluorescent lights and the murmur of distant voices is all that accompanies the tap of your shoes on the linoleum. It only heightens the jittery, nervous feeling you get from Loki—like your stomach is filled with drunk, lightning struck butterflies.

“Are you finding much?” asks Loki as you enter the hallway together.

You shrug. “A bit. Mostly on the Nero variant. I’m not having as much luck with the Luccheses.”

“I’ve got all of their property transfers, I think,” he says. “Renato Lucchese never met a vineyard he didn’t like.”

“Or racehorses, from what I understand,” you say. “I think that’s how he lost most of his money.”

You arrive at the vending machines. Loki looks at the vending machines and then back at you, a somewhat puzzled and troubled expression on his face.

“This is what you meant when you said you were going to get coffee and dinner?”  he says.

You shrug. “Yeah, what’s wrong with this?”

He points at the coffee machine. “Mobius calls that machine Satan’s coffeemaker, does he not?”

“Yes, but I know how to trick it into giving me something that’s almost palatable,” you say.

Loki gives you a rather dry look. “Something that’s almost palatable?”

“I mean, I’m just trying to manage your expectations. It’s still pretty shitty coffee, it just tastes less burned.”

He looks at you for a long moment before tilting his head toward the hallway. “Come on, let’s go.”

It’s your turn to look skeptical. “What are we doing?”

“We’re going out for dinner.”

*

He takes you to a twenty-four hour diner called Frank’s that’s maybe a five minute walk from the TVA. It’s one of those places with yellowing Formica tables and big booths covered in red faux leather patched with the occasional square of duct tape. It smells like coffee and grease with a faint odor of cigarette smoke despite the prominent no smoking signs.

“I wouldn’t have thought this kind of place was your style,” you say as you sit down in a booth next to the window.

“I’ve expanded my horizons,” he says, sliding into the seat across from you.

An older woman with greying blonde hair approaches your booth. She wears a nametag reading “Connie” in big capital letters, a sticker of a pink cat stuck on the space next to her name.

“How y’all doin’ tonight?” she says as she hands you each a laminated menu. She looks at Loki. “You want your usual?”

“Please,” he says.

“You got it.” She turns to you. “How ‘bout you, hon, can I get ya started with something to drink?”

“Coffee would be great.”

“All right, I’ll be right back with your drinks.”

You raise your eyebrows at Loki as she walks away. “You eat at diners and you have a usual order. My expectations are being completely upended.”

He returns your pleasantly amused expression. “And you have vending machine coffee for dinner. It’s a revealing night.”

“I mean, I don’t actively seek it out,” you say. “It’s a convenient option that I exercise only when I have no other choice.”

“No other choice?” A sly smile curls at his lips. “Do you not have the entire array of space and time at your fingertips?”

“Well, first of all, we aren’t supposed to use TemPads for personal errands without a supervisor’s approval.”

“Technically.”

“No, actually. It’s in the personnel manual. Like verbatim.”

He raises an eyebrow. “You would put yourself through the egregious physical suffering of vending machine coffee simply to appease the capricious whims of our cruel overseer Miss Minutes?”

You bite back a laugh. “You know she’s not actually our boss, right?”

“I can’t discount that possibility. She wields a concerning amount of power within the organization.”

Connie is back with your drinks—coffee for you and tea for Loki. “Sunday Special?” she asks Loki as she sets a metal teapot and empty mug in front of him.

“Please,” he says.

“You got it.” She looks at you. “Didya get a chance to look at the menu or do you need a minute?”

You’re feeling a little daring. “I’ll try the Sunday Special as well.”

“All right, two Sunday Specials comin’ right up,” she says, collecting your menus.

“So, what’s in a Sunday Special?” you ask Loki as you take a sip of your coffee.

“Boiled fish eggs, mainly,” he says, pouring the hot water into his tea mug.

“Liar,” you say promptly.

He raises an eyebrow. “You didn’t even look at the menu, how could you know?”

“Places like this don’t serve fish eggs,” you say. “Way too unusual and definitely the wrong price point.”

“I suppose you’ll just have to see,” he says with a playful glint in his eyes. The easy charm that you’ve seen him use with the others is on full display and it’s enough to make you giddy. Maybe he doesn’t dislike you after all.

“Well, if it’s fish eggs, you’re picking up the bill,” you say, “and I’ll be getting something else instead.”

“You’d really hold me responsible for your impulsive dinner selections?”

“Yep. And I don’t even feel bad about it.”

He raises an eyebrow. “I didn’t realize you could be so unforgiving.”

“Well, you don’t know me all that well.”

“To be fair, you keep to yourself quite a bit.”

“A little bit,” you say. “But also to be fair, you haven’t really asked.”

“On work time?” he says, widening his eyes in mock horror. “That would mean write ups for both of us, I couldn’t let that happen.”

“I think I know enough about you to know that getting in trouble is not one of your primary concerns.”

He gives you a sly smile, like you’ve caught him out and he likes it. “That’s a diplomatic way to put it.” He takes a sugar packet from the dispenser on the table and tears it open before pouring it into his mug. “Well, we’re on break now, so you can safely tell me something about yourself.”

You drum your fingers on your coffee mug. “What do you want to know?”

“Well, this can’t be the only part of your life. Who are you outside the TVA? What did you do before this?”

That giddy feeling comes to a screeching halt and you take in a long, slow breath. It’s a simple question, one that most people can answer to some degree. For you, though, it’s a bit more complicated.

“Well,” you say. You take a sip of your coffee, mostly to give your hands something to do. “I don’t actually know—I chose not to remember when they gave me the option.”

You’re surprised by how gentle his eyes are when you look up. “My apologies,” he says, “I didn’t realize.”

“It’s okay,” you say and you really do mean it. “You couldn’t have known.”

Usually, you say something like this and then gently redirect the conversation, but something about the way he’s looking at you makes you want to continue. Like maybe he understands difficult things and doesn’t mind hearing about something that others would shy away from.

“When they told us everything and said they could fix our memories…” You clear your throat and focus your gaze just above his shoulder. “It’s weird, but I just had a feeling that it wouldn’t be good for me to know…that something really bad had happened. So I asked Mobius to check for me, just to be sure…” You swallow, blinking hard.

You remember how sad Mobius’ eyes were, how he’d gently placed a hand on your shoulder and said, “I think you’re making the right call, kid.”

“It’s not really okay, is it?” Loki says softly.

You shrug. “I mean, it’s…it is what it is.”

“You’re a terrible liar, you know.”

“It’s not a lie—”

He raises a skeptical eyebrow and you remember that he is, in fact, the god of lies.

“It’s more like…I can’t really miss what I don’t know, but at the same time, the reality of that absence hurts a little. So maybe not exactly okay, but not exactly not okay, either.”

There’s a lot of kindness in his gaze and you have to look away because it makes your head spin and your breath catch in your throat. “I’m not really sure if that makes sense,” you say.

“It does.”

There’s a silence between you, but it’s not uncomfortable.

“Do you…do you think you’d want to forget if you had that option?” You’re not entirely sure what prompts the question and you regret it almost as soon as it leaves your mouth. “I’m sorry, that’s probably too personal.”

He shakes his head and there’s a warmth in his eyes that you don’t expect. “I rather think I owe you one.” He pauses, running a finger around the rim of his mug. “Sometimes I do,” he says finally. “It can be quite painful remembering.” He worries his lip between his teeth. “But I’m not sure who I would be without the knowledge of my past, either.” His gaze flicks back to you. “What’s it like for you? Do you feel like you know who you are without those memories?”

It’s a good question—one you’ve never been asked. “I mean, it’s hard to say for sure. I think I do,” you say. “Sometimes I wonder if I was different in my timeline. Maybe I was kinder because I had different experiences that made me more empathetic. Maybe I wasn’t—maybe I was worse. Maybe I had a villain arc.”

He chuckles. “That doesn’t seem likely.”

“I dunno, maybe it explains the vending machine coffee and my fish egg related threats,” you say and you feel almost giddy when he returns your smile. “Or maybe I’m the same and all those experiences that shaped me are just scars I can’t see.” You shrug and take a sip of your coffee. “At the end of the day, though, that timeline is gone. I’m all that’s left. It’s sad, but it’s also freeing, in a way.”

He nods. “Mobius has said much the same.”

You smile slightly. “Our philosophies are similar, I suppose, though I think there are probably more bits of his past self in his present self than he realizes.”

Loki grins. “It’s the jet skis, isn’t it?”

“I mean, I just don’t think most normal people spend that much time expounding on the reliability of the Yamaha engine versus the pure, raw power of the Kawasaki.”

Loki holds up a finger. “But have you gotten the lecture about Yamaha’s braking system?”

“I think I have that memorized at this point.”

“‘The perfect choice for families.’”

“‘You just tap the brakes. Just tap them. Perfectly smooth stop every time.’”

“‘Reliability meets affordability.’”

“‘You can’t say no to that.’”

You think you probably could have riffed on this for a bit, but you’re interrupted by the arrival of Connie with your dinner.

The Sunday Special turns out to be a fairly traditional breakfast—eggs, hash browns, two fluffy pancakes, sausage, toast, a little bowl of strawberries.

“Definitely lots of fish eggs in this meal,” you say to Loki after Connie leaves.

His smile is small, but genuine. “You haven’t looked under the pancakes yet.”

You feel it then, but you don’t fully understand until later that this dinner has unlocked something important between the two of you. After months of awkward, stilted conversation, it’s like you finally understand how to talk to each other. And you’re surprised to find that even outside of your big stupid crush, you actually like Loki. You like his sly smiles and his dry humor and how easily the two of you fall into a routine of playful banter. You click in a way that surprises you, in a way that makes you mourn the lost potential of all those awkward, stilted months and feel giddy about the possibilities ahead.

Dinner is over too soon and you walk back to the TVA feeling revived from the coffee and the conversation. 

Disaster awaits you back at the office, though: you’d left a stack of the Nero variant files on your desk and evidently the construction was too precarious, as the entire pile had tipped off your desk and spilled to the floor, contents scattered everywhere.

“Fucking hell,” you sigh, running a hand through your hair. You’re not sure whether you want to laugh, cry, or scream. Possibly, it’s all three.

“Here.” Loki is bending down on the floor to gather the files. You studiously try to not ogle his ass or thighs. Or at least not obviously. “Clear off some space on your desk—I’ll help.”

Twenty minutes later, you’ve set up an entirely new system—Loki has dragged his chair over to your desk and the cart of unsorted files sits between you, like a surly metallic chaperone. And even later when you’ve sorted out all of the files from the floor, he remains parked at the end of your desk, a stack of new, unsorted files in front of him. Admittedly, it’s a lot more efficient for you to work like this: privately, though, it gives you a warm glow that has nothing to do with workplace efficiency.

“I’ve invented a new game,” he says some time later. 

“What’s that?”

“Every time either one of us finds documentation showing Renato Lucchese losing money on a racehorse he was told was not a good investment, I get to have a drink.”

You look up at him. “Look, I know you’re a god and everything, but I am pretty sure that will kill you.”

He sighs and tosses the file into the Lucchese pile. “I think it would add a little excitement to the evening, don’t you?”

You raise your eyebrows and look back at the file in front of you. “You mean this isn’t your idea of a fun Friday night?”

“My idea of a fun Friday night includes far fewer files and a lot more debauchery,” he says, taking a new file from the cart.

You glance at the clock. “Well, it’s only eleven. I don’t usually start body shots until after midnight.”

“What are body shots?”

For one horrifying moment, you think that you’re going to actually have to explain this to him, but then you get a good look at his expression.

He’s teasing you.

“You’re an ass,” you say, swatting him on the shoulder with the file you’re holding.

He wags a finger at you. “That’s workplace violence. I’m going to have to report that.”

You lean back in your chair and return to your file. “I’m pretty confident that you’ll be put off by the amount of paperwork that process requires.”

He shakes his head as he returns to his own file. “Uncontrolled bureaucracy is how bad actors escape accountability.” There’s a brief pause. “And…there’s another racehorse.”

You continue on like this for the rest of the evening, occasionally chatting and Loki proving definitively that the Renato Lucchese racehorse drinking game could not be played without resulting in a fatality. It’s nice, though. Yes, it’s sorting files and yes, it’s not the most intellectually riveting task you’ve ever done, but spending time with Loki is nice. It’s because of this that you find yourself trying to stay awake, pushing past your looming exhaustion.

But around two, you can’t quite fight the heaviness of your eyelids any longer and you doze off in the middle of a report on the sinking of the Lusitania.

“Hey.” Loki is gently shaking your shoulder. The way he says your name in that deliciously deep voice makes you want to swoon and you’re glad that you have the ready made excuse of sleepiness to explain any embarrassing behavior on your end.

“I think you’d better call it a night,” he says gently. “Get some sleep and come back with fresh eyes.”

“What about you?” you say. “Are you going to do the same, or are you just all talk?”

He smiles at you and it warms you to the very tips of your toes. You could bask in that smile like a cat in a sunbeam.

“I’m starting to fade a bit myself,” he says

“Very convenient,” you say and he grins at you.

“Come on, I’ll see you back home.”

Part of you wants to protest—there’s really no need for him to walk you home—but a larger, louder part of you wants to let it be, prolong the magic of tonight for just a little longer.

There’s a comfortable silence between the two of you as you walk out of the office together. 

“What time do you think you’re going to come in tomorrow?” he asks as you approach the residential wing. “It’s probably sensible to coordinate our efforts a bit.”

“Yeah, that’s a good point,” you say. “I was thinking nine, but that will be dependent on how much coffee I have.”

“Yes, about that,” he says. “I cannot stand idly by and watch you torture yourself with vending machine coffee.”

“Well, the cafeteria will be open, so I was going to torture myself with cafeteria coffee, which is at least thirty percent less over brewed.”

He clicks his tongue. “You’re not making a compelling case for yourself.”

“To be fair, it’s quite late and I’ve been staring at files for hours.”

“All the more reason to get decent coffee,” he says. “We’re going out for breakfast.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Oh, we are?”

“Consider it an intervention,” he says. “I’ll come collect you at eight.”

You’re not quite sure if this is just his natural confidence and swagger coming through or if he’s flirting with you and this counts as a date.

“Where are we going?”

“I know a place.”

*

The place in question turns out to be a food cart in Central Park in 1998.

“Should I even bother asking if you have supervisor approval for this?” you say, looking skeptically at the time door glimmering before you.

Loki scoffs. “I don’t have a supervisor.”

“You do. It’s Mobius.”

“That can’t be right, we’re peers.”

“You’re absolutely not. Did you read any of the onboarding materials?”

He ignores your question. “I don’t see why I’d even need a supervisor, honestly.”

You snort. “Need I remind you of what happened at the Nixon inauguration?”

He spreads his hands in front of him. “It’s not my fault that I’m the only one with a sense of humor.”

“I’m not entirely sure that was the problem,” you say. “Gerald Ford is never going to be the same, from what I understand.”

Loki waves a dismissive hand. “He’ll be fine, the tail isn’t permanent. Now, are you coming or not?”

You roll your eyes at him and make a halfhearted complaint about proper protocol, but you know that you’re walking through that time door and not looking back. You knew that before he even posed the question.

The food cart is owned by a man named Samir who has a wide smile and booming laugh. He talks to Loki like he’s a friend and he tells you that you have the prettiest eyes he’s ever seen. You are fairly certain he’s exaggerating, but you stuff a few extra bills into the tip jar anyway.

“I can’t believe you fell for that,” says Loki as you walk away, each carrying a coffee and a brown paper bag with a breakfast sandwich.

“Fell for what?” you say, batting your eyes at him. “I do have beautiful eyes.”

“I’ve heard him say that on at least thirty separate occasions.”

“Yeah, but this time he really meant it. I could tell.”

He rolls his eyes and leads you to a park bench overlooking a wide, grassy field. The leaves are just starting to change and the air has a little bit of a bite to it. 

You sit down on the bench and take a sip of your coffee.

“It is good coffee, I’ll give you that,” you say.

“See,” says Loki, “you can’t go back to that vending machine sludge after this.”

“I mean, if it’s eleven o’clock at night and I’m on a deadline, I can.”

“Darling. You have a TemPad.”

“Loki. Read the personnel manual.”

He wrinkles his nose. “It’s not really my genre.”

You roll your eyes and take out your breakfast sandwich. “What is your genre?”

He raises an eyebrow. “Is that a serious question?”

“Of course it is,” you say. “I love talking about books.”

He gives you a slight smile and takes a sip of his coffee. “A little bit of everything, honestly,” he says. “Philosophy. Magical theory. History. Politics. Anything from Asgard, really, though it can be a bit more challenging getting some of those titles.”

“I’ve had pretty good luck with the Library of the Sacred Timeline—have you checked there yet?”

He frowns. “I’m not familiar.”

“Oh, you’d like it—it’s on the eighteenth floor. It’s intended to be a collection of the greatest works of literature from as many branches of the timeline as possible,” you say. “It started as a research project, but people liked it and it just kind of evolved into this huge collection. They’ve actually got a pretty sizeable collection of books from Asgard.”

It’s like you’ve told him that his personal paradise had been located on the eighteenth floor this entire time. “Will you show me?”

He is practically vibrating with the sort of anticipatory, manic energy that you typically would associate with Christmas morning right before you tear into presents. It’s sweetly endearing.

“Of course.”

Ten minutes later, you’re leading him through the winding hallways on the eighteenth floor. You’re not surprised he hasn’t heard about the library—it’s a bit out of the way and the eighteenth floor is so poorly designed that it’s not terribly easy to find.

The design of the library is a sharp departure from the rest of the TVA. The shelves and floors are made of the kind of dark mahogany that you typically see in the kind of estates that look like something directly out of a Jane Austen novel. Worn oriental rugs muffle your footsteps on the creaky wood floors and the air smells faintly of dust and paper.

There’s a subtle change in Loki when you walk through the doors—almost like a muscle in his shoulders finally relaxes and he seems truly at home for the first time since he arrived.

You touch his hand. “This way.”

You lead him into the stacks, back to the far corner, right after the books from Alfheim.

“You can borrow whichever ones you like,” you say softly. “There’s a sign out sheet at the front desk.”

He nods, though you don’t think he really hears you—he only has eyes for the shelves, his gaze sweeping across the spines like they’re old friends. You’re about to excuse yourself to give him a little privacy when his brow furrows and he exhales sharply. “Oh, you can’t be serious.”

“What is it?”

They have the entirety of the finest Asgardian literature at their disposal. Untold centuries of the writings of our greatest minds—” he plucks a book off the shelf, “—and they choose to include this?”

The title looks fairly innocuous—a red, leather bound book with the title The Cloistered Heart embossed in gold script on the front. You take the book from him and open it. “What’s the problem with this?”

“It’s inconsequential fluff, literary pablum of the highest order.”

This is the Loki that you’re more familiar with and a smile curls at your lips. Almost on cue, you flip the book open to a chapter titled “The Wedding and Bedding of Aloisa.”

You bite back a laugh and look up at him. “It’s a romance novel.”

“Precisely my point,” he says. “To think that this is on the same shelf as Nielsen and Auber.”

“That’s kind of how libraries work,” you say, flipping further into the book. The phrases “throbbing length” and “eager moans” draw your eye and you have to tamp down another laugh. “Oh, and it’s a sexy romance novel.”

“It appeals to the lowest common denominator, yes.”

“What, so you’re too good for a bodice ripper?”

He scoffs. “I prefer to do the bodice ripping myself, not read some overwrought description of it.”

You are glad you’re looking at the book because you’re pretty sure you’d disintegrate if you had to make eye contact with him while he delivered that line. “Oh spare me,” you say lightly, snapping the book shut and drawing it to your chest. “I’m gonna read this.”

He blows out a puff of air. “It’s a waste of your time.”

“I’ve got lots of time, I can afford to waste it,” you say cheekily. “Besides, I’m curious to see what kind of book turns the god of mischief into a pearl clutching prude.”

Loki sputters. “Prude? Darling, let me assure you, I’m no prude—”

“I’ll leave you to browse,” you say with a grin as you turn away from him. “Come find me at the front when you’re ready to go.”

You’re a few chapters into the book when Loki rejoins you at the front of the library, a small stack of books tucked under his arm.

You close your book with a snap. “This book is a delight. I think your real issue is just that you’re no fun.”

He scoffs. “I’m very fun.”

“Could’ve fooled me.”

You bicker playfully back and forth as you check out your books and leave the library. A quick glance at your watch tells you that you spent much more time there than you’d planned. You can’t quite bring yourself to worry about that, though, not with the memory of Loki’s wonderstruck expression burning so bright in your mind.

There’s a bit of a lull in the conversation as you wait for the elevator.

“Thank you,” he says softly.

“For what?”

“For showing me that.”

“Of course. I’m sorry you didn’t know about it sooner.”

He looks at you, lips parting slightly like he’s about to say something. His tongue swipes briefly over his bottom lip and you would swear that his gaze drops to your mouth for just a second.

For just a second—one heady, slightly irrational second—you think he might be about to kiss you.

The ding of the elevator arriving breaks the spell, startling you just a little. You run a hand through your hair, trying to give off the impression of composure even as your heart beats wildly in your chest.

Loki gestures to the elevator doors. “After you.”

There is a group of analysts in the elevator already, chatting animatedly and completely obliterating any chance you may have had at recapturing that moment.

You try not to dwell too much in contemplating what ifs or timeline branches—often, it feels too much like work, something Mobius might assign you.

But you know that the possibility of that moment—what if the elevator had been a hair slower, what if those analysts had taken a different route, what if you were braver—you know that’s something that’s going to haunt you for a while.

*

You wouldn’t give up that time in the library for anything—it’s one of those moments that feels formative, something that you’ll return to again and again for one reason or another.

But it’s also true that it’s time that you probably could have used for sorting files and as Saturday ticks on, you can’t help but wish you had a way to pull another hour out of somewhere.

“We’re not going to be able to make this deadline, are we?” you say with a sigh.

It’s getting late into the evening and the cart of files still to be sorted still remains depressingly full, despite the fact that you’d brought both lunch and dinner back to your desk so you could continue working.

Loki eyes the remaining files. “I think we might. We made good progress today.”

You rub your eyes. “My brain feels like it’s about to leak out my ears.”

Loki takes the file you are working on and sets it back in the stack of unsorted files. “I think that might be a sign it’s time to turn in,” he says.

“There’s still so much left.”

“There’s still tomorrow.”

You reach for the file. “Well, let me just—”

He pulls your hand away from the pile. “You can come back to it in the morning. Besides, if you’re this tired, you’re not going to do good work anyway.”

He squeezes your hand and drops it. It’s brief enough to still be friendly, but unusual enough to make you wonder and send your mind racing back to that moment by the elevator.

You shake the thought away. It’s late and you’re tired.

You heave a world weary sigh and slump back in your chair. “I hate it when you’re right.”

To his credit, he only smirks a little. “Come on. I’ll walk you back.”

Once again, there’s no reason for him to do this, but once again, you’re inclined to let him.

You pack up for the evening and walk out of the office side by side. You’re trying very hard not to think about the fact that this is likely the last night that you’ll do this, that tomorrow the assignment will be over.

As you near the residential wing, you start to hear distant shouts. If you inhale deeply, you catch a very faint whiff of explosives—you’re not sure what kind.

“I think someone brought work home,” you say with a sigh. 

This happens from time to time—things get out of hand in the field or something happens when retrieving an asset or a target and all hell breaks loose at the TVA. Mobius had once referred to it as “bringing work home” and the name had stuck.

“Wasn’t there an incident in this wing not long ago?” asks Loki.

“Yes.” You sigh, running a hand through your hair. “I had to call off the next day—I got no sleep that night.” You listen carefully, trying to determine the source of the noise and the status of the problem. “But maybe it’s almost over,” you say with an optimism you don’t fully feel. “Sometimes these things are resolved really quick.”

Your heart continues to sink the closer you come to your home. The acrid burn of explosives only increases and you think you catch the low, dull roar of something not quite human.

And indeed, when you turn the final corner, you are immediately stopped by an electric blue barrier being monitored by a hunter. G-21–you’ve worked with her on a couple of missions before.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” slips out of your mouth before you can stop yourself.

“There’s an ongoing incident in this area,” says G-21 and you almost want to laugh because no shit. 

“How long do you think it’s gonna be closed off?” you ask.

She shrugs. “We’re at a code 54 right now, but it’s probably gonna escalate.”

With pitch perfect timing and before you can even try to remember what a code 54 means, there’s an almighty crash and a low bellow.

“Go!” she yells before running toward the commotion amid frantic calls for backup.

Loki is grabbing your wrist and pulling you into a run.

Your standard issue work shoes are comfortable enough on a day to day basis, but you certainly want to have words with whoever decided that leather soled shoes with absolutely no grips were a good choice for a building floored almost entirely in linoleum. In a low stakes situation, it’s meant occasionally you wipe out in the cafeteria and hurt nothing but your pride. In this situation, it means that Loki’s firm grip on your hand is the only thing keeping you upright.

But there’s a small mercy in that while you can still hear distant crashes and shrieks, whatever is happening down that hallway doesn’t seem to be following you and eventually, you both slow to a brisk walk and Loki drops your hand.

You haven’t even had a chance to consider where you are going to sleep tonight. You could probably curl up on that terrible couch in the office and just plan on getting up early enough to run back to your place for a quick shower and a change of clothes…assuming the incident resolves by then—

“You can stay with me,” says Loki, as though he can hear you trying to sort this out.

“Oh, that’s okay, I’ll just—”

“If you say you’re going to sleep on that terrible couch in the office, I will personally take you to the most boring governmental proceeding I can find and leave you there until you come to your senses.”

“Sounds like a great place to fall asleep,” you say.

His eyes glint, but his tone brooks no arguments. “You’re staying with me tonight.”

You sigh, but you can’t think of a counterpoint. “When did you get so bossy?”

“Darling, I’m a prince,” he says with a bit of a wry smirk. “It’s my birthright.”

Loki lives on the opposite end of the residential wing and his place looks quite a bit like yours—he’s got an extra window in the kitchen but the floor plan is otherwise the same. A lot of his furniture is standard issue, but there are little details that make it seem more personal: an area rug with a bit of fraying on the edges, a painting of what you think is an Asgardian landscape, a vase filled with dried flowers so delicate they look like they might disintegrate if you were to touch them. And books—so many books. Books on shelves, stacked on the coffee table, tucked into the little rack that you know is meant to hold magazines. Hardbacks, paperbacks, leather bound, dog-eared, well-worn and brand new. It’s no wonder he was so excited about the library.

“Have a seat,” he says, gesturing to the couch. “I’ll get some things for you.”

You sit down and he disappears down the hall. You idly examine the books stacked on the end table next to you. Many are quite clearly from Asgard and it sparks a pang of sympathy—it’s like his homesickness is on full display in his living room and there’s something sweet and sad about seeing that vulnerability laid so bare.

He returns a few minutes later with a pair of pajamas, a toothbrush, and a hand towel.

“Here,” he says, handing you the pile. “Bathroom’s just down the hall. I’ll make up a bed for you.”

“Thanks.”

In the bathroom, you realize that the pajamas he’s given you aren’t the standard set you can order from the TVA. These are made of a dark emerald silk that ripples over your skin like water, and somehow, that makes it feel a thousand times more personal than if he’d loaned you a standard set. They don’t fit quite right on you, but they’ll work well enough for tonight.

You brush your teeth and attempt to get through as much of your evening routine as you can before collecting your clothes and exiting the bathroom.

When you return to the living room, you expect to find that he’s made up a bed for you on the couch. These living units only have one bedroom—it would be quite reasonable to have you sleep on the couch.

You do not expect to find a pajama clad Loki stretched out reading on the couch, a blanket over his lap and his head propped up on a pillow like he intends to sleep there.

You exhale slowly. “Please tell me you are not giving up your bed.”

“Don’t be absurd, of course I am,” he says without even looking up from his book. “The point of this was to prevent you from sleeping on a couch, not simply put you on a couch in a different location.”

You wish you had something to throw at him. “You don’t even fit on that couch.”

“Luckily, my knees bend. Besides, you’re a guest,” he says, as though that settles it.

You roll your eyes and plunk yourself down in the armchair across from the couch, setting your pile of clothes on the floor. “I’m not moving until you give up the couch.”

He finally looks up from his book. “You’re really going to do this?”

You examine your fingernails, flicking away an invisible speck of dust. “I’m not the one being unreasonable. I’m simply meeting you at your level.”

“If you think that I’m being unreasonable and you’re also saying you’re meeting me at my level, does that not mean you are admitting that you are being unreasonable?”

“It’s nearly one o’clock in the morning. I’m not arguing semantics with you.”

“Fine.” His eyes glimmer as he sets his book down and slowly rises to his feet. “But you’re still not sleeping on the couch.”

“Oh, you’re going to be so disappointed when you realize how wrong you are,” you say. You think you see your opening and you try to play it cool.

He’s walking toward you, leaving your path to the couch wide open. In your head, you can see exactly how this works: you’ll spring from your chair and dart around the coffee table before diving onto the couch like a baseball player sliding into home plate, soundly defeating Loki. Easy peasy.

Instead, what happens is that you spring to your feet and Loki moves with inhuman speed, grabbing you around your waist and pinning you to the front of his chest, stopping you in your tracks almost immediately.

“I suppose I should have expected that,” he says. Your back is facing him, but you can almost hear the dry, sardonic look he’s giving you.

“Probably,” you say. “God of mischief and all.” You struggle fruitlessly against his iron grip. “You can let me go now.”

He laughs. “I’m afraid I can’t. It was clearly a mistake to trust you. I won’t be making that error again.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you say, trying again to squirm away from him. “Let me go.”

“The interesting thing about all of this is that you’ve made a rather substantial tactical error,” he says, continuing as though he can’t hear you.

“You’re bluffing,” you say with more confidence than you feel.

“Fascinating theory,” he says, “but I don’t think it’s going to work out for you.”

With that same ridiculous speed, he’s suddenly spinning you around and lifting you, tossing you easily over his shoulder.

“Hey!” you shout in protest.

“I warned you,” he says, his voice full of mirth as he carries you toward the bedroom.

This is not exactly how you’ve imagined being carried off to bed by Loki.

Though, admittedly, you do have a nice view of his ass.

“This is ridiculous,” you say.

“You brought this upon yourself.” He’s walking into the bedroom and a moment later, he’s lifting you from his shoulder and tossing you unceremoniously onto his bed.

You scramble to your feet and try to lunge toward the door, but he’s clearly expecting that. Before your feet even hit the floor, he catches you around the waist and hauls you back to the bed. Your back hits the mattress and you try to leverage the momentum to propel yourself back onto your feet.

He catches you immediately and you find yourself back on the bed again.

“I don’t mean to be patronizing,” he says, failing to bite back a laugh, “but it’s adorable that you think you can outmaneuver me.”

That is deeply offensive and the only way you can earn my forgiveness is by letting me take my rightful place on the couch.” You can’t quite keep the laugh from your voice.

He grins. “Not a chance.”

You attempt to dive off the opposite side of the bed, only to have him grab you by the ankles and pull you back. You manage to dislodge him and lunge in the opposite direction, only to be immediately thwarted.

It becomes increasingly hilarious the longer it goes on and soon your sides are aching from laughter. Loki is laughing too, but it doesn’t seem to affect his strength or speed at all.

Eventually, he wrestles you back down onto the bed and you are fairly certain there’s no way out of this one—he’s got your wrists pinned above your head and his legs locked around yours. You’re both a little out of breath.

“Yield,” he says.

You shake your head. “Never.”

His gaze flicks to your lips and back to your eyes. “Yield.”

“No.”

Something has changed. There’s an electricity and intensity that crackles in the air between you, possibilities blooming in both of your gazes. It feels a little like that moment by the elevator, but you’re afraid to hope, afraid to even wish because the idea of him wanting you still feels as impossible as capturing smoke with a net. 

But the way he’s looking at you, the way his gaze keeps drifting between your eyes and your lips…that’s not nothing.

“Yield.”

You lick your lips, your heart beating wildly. “No.”

Is it just your imagination, or did his breath hitch when you licked your lips?

“Yield.”

God, he’s so close and you want him so badly. 

“No.”

He looks again at your lips and this time, he closes the distance between you.

They call him Silvertongue—you’ve heard the jokes, you’ve rolled your eyes at all of them. But as he kisses you, you realize that there’s an element of truth there because only seconds in and you’re ready to sign away your soul to live under the power of Loki’s tongue. The slow, warm slide of it against yours, the way he guides your mouth against his, the way he lets out a soft sigh as he tastes you—you would give up everything if it meant you could stay like this.

“Yield,” he breathes against your lips.

“No,” you say.

He deepens the kiss, catching your lower lip between his teeth and gently tugging until you whimper and arch against him.

He still has your hands pinned against the bed, his grip unyielding when you try to wrestle them away.

“Let me touch you,” you say when he draws back. You want to touch him everywhere—run your hands along every muscle you’ve admired from afar. 

“Then yield,” he says with a grin, his eyes flashing with devilish intent.

You consider this for a moment. You could give in—there aren’t really any stakes at this point and you’re pretty sure you’re both going to end up sleeping in his bed tonight anyway. But that glint of mischief in his eyes also promises some intriguing possibilities if you stand firm.

“No,” you say.

“Such a pity,” says Loki, though his expression is one of hungry delight.

His hands slip free of your wrists then, but they stay pinned to the bed by some invisible force.

“Cheater,” you say. 

“I think this is only fair,” he says, his hands sliding to your hips. “I’m clearly the victor, am I not entitled to my prize?”

You shiver. “Your prize?”

“Yes.” He kisses down the column of your throat. “My lovely, lovely prize.”

“How can I be your prize if I’m also your competitor?”

“You think too much,” he mumbles against your neck.

“You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

“Generally, it’s not.” He sits back on his heels between your legs, looking you over with satisfaction. “But in this case, it’s distracting you from more pressing matters.” His hands creep under the hem of your shirt, stroking the small of your back, thumbs tracing teasingly along the waistband of your pajama pants. 

“Have I mentioned how much I enjoy seeing you in my clothes?” he asks. There’s a husky depth to his voice and a hunger in his eyes that sends a flood of arousal to your cunt.

“You have not,” you say.

“A casualty of too much thinking,” he says solemnly, his thumbs gently grazing the skin at your hipbones. “You look utterly delectable. I almost want to leave them on.” His eyes glitter with mischief. “Almost.” His hand strays to the bottom button on your pajama top. “May I?”

You nod. “Yes.”

He slips the button free and slowly makes his way up until your shirt is open. He carefully pushes the fabric aside, baring your breasts to his sight and touch.

You’ve never felt more beautiful seeing Loki stare at you, lips slightly parted, eyes wide and hungry. He trails one hand up your stomach and rib cage and slowly brushes a thumb over your nipple. You gasp and the sensitive skin puckers and stiffens as he palms your breast, rolling your nipple between his thumb and forefinger.

“Gorgeous,” he murmurs as he lowers his mouth to your breast, his tongue and lips taking up the role of his hand, while his other hand moves to cup your other breast. You whimper, wishing you could run your hands through his hair. “That’s it,” he purrs, “I want to hear all the sounds you can make, my love.”

You rock your hips forward and arch your back as he lavishes attention on your breasts. It’s the most delicious kind of torture, having him so close, but not being able to touch him.

He’s taking his time, which you both love and hate. He feels so good, but you need him to touch you, you need to touch him, you need him inside of you. You wait until you can’t take it any more and breathe his name like it’s a prayer.

You wonder if this is what he was waiting for because with little more than a brief smirk and a wicked look, he starts kissing his way back up your chest and neck. You whimper when his lips meet yours and you can feel him grin as he kisses you. He fits his hips against yours, angling himself so that his cock rubs up against your clit just right and you moan into his mouth. You can tell that he’s big and part of you wants to savor the anticipation even though you feel like you might go mad if he doesn’t fuck you now. You rock your hips against him, trying to feel that friction.

His large hands frame your face, one hand sliding to cradle the back of your head so he can draw you deeper, the other trailing from your cheek to your throat.

Both hands soon stroke down your sides, lingering teasingly at the waistband of your pajama pants. He hooks his thumbs underneath the waistband and you lift your hips. He slides your pants down maybe an inch and you can feel him smiling as he kisses you. You lift your hips again and your waistband creeps down another inch.

“Loki.” His name falls from your lips with a sigh.

“What is it, my love?”

“Touch me,” you breathe. “Please.”

You lift your hips again and this time, he pulls the fabric fully down and off your legs. He guides your legs apart and stares appreciatively at your bare cunt, his teasing expression replaced by a rapt awe.

“Beautiful,” he murmurs. 

You believe him.

His hands stroke your thighs, seemingly in no hurry, despite your pleading whimpers and the way you arch against the mattress. He draws his thumb gently along your slit, barely grazing your clit.

“Do you know what an utter distraction it’s been sitting behind you?” he asks, tracing your clit in the slowest, lightest circle.

You arch upward, hands still bound by his magic. “Tell me,” you breathe, your hips rising to chase his hand.

“Every time you stood up, I could only think about bending you over the desk.”

You manage a sly smirk. “And here I thought you didn’t like me much at all.”

His thumb presses a little more against your clit and you moan.

“I’ve wanted you from the moment I saw you,” he says, rolling his thumb in a slow circle. “I kept you at arm’s length partly as a matter of protection.”

For who?”

“You,” he says. “I’m not fully redeemed in some eyes and you being involved with a dangerous variant—”

“You’re not,” you say.

“Some would disagree.”

“Well, they’re wrong,” you say. “You’re not a dangerous variant. You’re Loki Laufeyson and I want you just as you are.”

There’s something unreadable in his expression and it makes you wonder how many people have told him that he can just be himself.

“You should be careful saying such lovely things to me, you know,” he says solemnly.

You raise an eyebrow. “Oh really? And why is that?”

“Because it makes me want to do very wicked things to you.”

You’re surprised you’re not shaking, you want him so badly. “What kinds of wicked things?”

“Oh, all manner of wicked things.” He presses a kiss to the inside of your knee, his tongue swiping briefly against your skin. “Things with my mouth...” His thumb rolls over your clit again, his index finger teasing your entrance before retreating. “…my hands…” He drags his gaze over your naked form before locking eyes with you. “My cock.”

A shiver works its way up your spine. “So if I talk about how I think you’re really clever and funny and I find it unbelievably sexy, what sort of wicked thing would that merit?”

The intensity of his gaze makes you shiver again. He crouches down and presses another kiss against the inside of your knee, slowly moving upward. “If you keep talking like that, I’m not going to let you leave my bed for days.”

“You know that’s not a disincentive, right?” you say, sucking in a sharp breath as he nips at the soft skin of your inner thigh. “I’ve wanted you for such a long time, Loki.”

“I’ll make it weeks if you’re not careful.”

“Again, not a disincentive.” You gently tug at your bound wrists and find that they’re still firmly secured. It’s exhilarating, even though you really wish you could run your hands through his hair, especially if he ends up where you think he’s going.

“What else should I tell you?” you muse as he continues his agonizingly slow path along your thigh. “You know, half the reason I kept to myself was that I wanted you so much I was certain that I’d make a fool of myself.”

That earns you a few circles of your clit with his thumb, but his progress up your thigh remains slow. You have a theory about what might move the needle, though.

“I know you like to act like you’re this sort of barely reformed villain, but I think there’s more good in you than you’d like people to believe.”

This time, he moves up to the crease where your thigh joins your hip, close enough that you can feel the heat of his breath ghosting along your labia. His tongue traces a line along your skin and you briefly wonder if you’ll be able to hold it together enough to deliver the last part.

“And,” you say, trying to keep your voice steady, “yesterday and today made me want you even more because I feel like I finally saw who you really are and you’re even more wond—”

Your words abruptly give way to a breathy moan because his perfect, skilled tongue has finally found its way to your clit.

You had a plan from here, but whatever it was has dissolved into nothing under the skilled caress of Loki’s tongue. You suspected he would be good at this from the way that he’d kissed you earlier, but you could not have imagined that it would feel like this.

“Oh my god, Loki.” Your thighs are already quaking. You tug again at the invisible bonds on your wrists, but they hold fast. Something about the way the bonds are keeping you gently stretched along the bed combined with how his large hands have your thighs spread open seems to heighten every sensation. There’s no wiggling away from him or adjusting yourself so that you feel more or less of the onslaught of his tongue on your cunt. You are completely at his mercy and you’re not entirely surprised that you fucking love it.

He slides a finger into your aching channel and your cunt shudders around the thick intrusion. The warm, roiling center of your orgasm starts builds in your hips with every stroke of his tongue, spinning faster and faster, like ocean winds whipping up into a hurricane. Your back arches and his tongue presses flat against your clit, and suddenly you know that this is going to be what takes you over the edge.

Loki seems to know it too, at least from the way that he presses his tongue more firmly against you, one arm slung across your hips to hold you in place. His other hand slides two fingers inside you, rocking and curling against that aching, tender spot.

You whimper, your hips bucking wildly. It’s so good and so much and you are almost there.

You look down at him then, his hair wild, hollowed cheeks flushed pink as his tongue works you over, his eyes closed like he couldn’t imagine anything more blissful than being in between your legs while you come undone.

This is ultimately what tips you over the edge. The storm that has been forming inside you is finally let loose and you arch your back and cry out in a wordless scream as your climax crashes into you.

Only then do the bonds around your wrists release and your hands fly down to grab his hair as your body shakes with pleasure.

It takes a moment for you to get your breath back and reacquaint yourself with the concept of speech, but when you do, you find Loki looking up at you, his expression pure mischief.

“And to think you wanted to sleep on the couch.”

“It wasn’t that I wanted to sleep on the couch, it’s that—” Your voice cuts off as his tongue starts stroking your clit again.

“It’s what?” he asks in between strokes, his smirk obvious in his voice. The lingering ripples of your orgasm are coalescing around the path of his tongue, tightening that coil in your belly again.

“Fuck—you’re not playing fair, you can’t just—” You lose your sentence to a low moan that rises up from your chest. “You can’t just—fuck, yes—you can’t…oh god, yes, just like that.”

His laughter rumbles against you as your hips start rocking against his mouth. How are you already so close?

“You can’t just—fuck—win an argument by—”

You’re trying to say that he can’t expect to win an argument by making you come and you think he might understand this based on how determined he seems to be to prove you wrong. His fingers curl again until he finds that soft, tender spot that is so often the key to your unraveling.

You have stopped trying to complete that sentence—you moan, your hands tangling in his hair, urging him on as the swell of your climax rushes up, inevitable as a tidal wave looming over a seaside village.

You cry out as it crests and breaks, falling down over you in a rush of tingling pleasure that feels like champagne and fireworks all at once.

“Now, what was it you were saying, my love?” he asks as he releases your clit a moment later. “Something about how I can’t just win an argument by making you come? I couldn’t quite hear you over the sound of you coming completely undone on my tongue.”

“Oh, you think you’re so smart,” you say, giving him a stern look as he crawls up your body.

“You know what I think?” he says, settling himself on his side next to you. “I think you liked submitting to me.”

You shiver before you can even think about hiding it and his smile turns decidedly vulpine. 

“You did, didn’t you? You liked having your hands bound and being completely at my mercy while I licked your pretty cunt until you came undone in my mouth.”

“You are enjoying this far too much,” you say.

“I am enjoying it the correct amount.”

You realize your hands are now free to explore his body and you tug at his pajama shirt. “I think you’re wearing too many clothes,” you say.

He gives you a wicked grin as he lets you pull his shirt over his head. “Yes, perhaps it’s time we even things up.”

You pull the shirt away and rake your eyes over him greedily, your hands following the path of your gaze. He is as perfect as you imagined, unfairly beautiful in the dim light of the bedroom.

You hook your thumbs into the waistband of his pajama pants and lower them an inch, a cheeky parallel of how he teased you earlier. His lips curl into a sharp smile when he realizes what you’re doing.

“Interesting strategy.” There’s a bit of a growl in his voice, a rough desperation that makes your cunt clench. “But I think you forgot that I have the upper hand here.”

He raises his hand and with a twist of his wrist, his remaining clothes dissolve in a shimmer of green and he is bare before you.

Your breath catches in your throat. His cock commands your immediate attention, nudging up against your thigh—he’s big, as you suspected, but completely bare and rock hard, he somehow seems longer and thicker than he had when he was grinding against you.

He pulls you into a slow kiss as you reach for his cock. You wrap your hand around him, delighting in the silky hardness of him, the way he throbs in your hand and the low groan he makes as your hand moves from base to tip and back, the way his hips thrust along with you. Your cunt clenches in anticipation.

After a moment, though, he places his hand over yours, slowing your movements.

“I need to be inside you,” he rasps.

“Yes,” you breathe.

He rolls on top of you  and you’re not sure that you’ve ever felt anything quite as wonderful as the heat of his bare skin and yours pressed together. This feeling means intimacy, a closeness that you’d longed for but never expected even in your wildest daydreams.

He pulls you into a kiss, slow, soft, and languid, like you have all the time in the world and he intends to take it. It’s decadent and dreamy and perfect.

But the heavy weight of his bare cock resting against your stomach combined with the ache between your legs—an ache that would be so perfectly soothed by the hard column of flesh currently throbbing against you—proves to be a force too powerful to resist for very long.

You cant your hips against him, snaking one leg around his waist, hoping he’ll get the hint.

He does.

He braces himself on one hand, the other sliding between your bodies to rub his cock along your slick folds. He positions himself at your entrance, waiting for your breathy plea to begin to ease himself slowly into you.

He fills and stretches you in the most wonderful way, but even more than that, he feels like home. The thought strikes you quite suddenly and you’re not entirely sure about everything it means, but you know it’s good and right.

He pauses for just a moment, seeming to savor the feeling.

“You feel better than I ever imagined,” he says.

You quirk an eyebrow at him. “You imagined?”

He gives you a hungry smile as he leans in to kiss you. “Like I said: it has been an utter distraction sitting behind you.”

His rhythm is slow and easy, like he wants to take his time learning every inch of you and memorizing how you react to his touch. His mouth moves over yours in a slow kiss that’s somehow both languid and demanding, his tongue gliding in and out of your mouth in the same rhythm of his hips rocking into you. His cock bumps up against that sweet spot inside of you that his fingers had teased earlier, each stroke inching you closer to bliss.

He shifts the angle of his hips so that his pubic bone grinds against your clit and it feels so good you almost see stars. You can feel your orgasm building, your cunt growing slicker and tensing around his thrusting cock.

He draws back to look at you, eyes hazy with a loose, dreamy kind of pleasure.

“Do you have any idea how good you feel?” he breathes.

You are shaking. “Loki, I’m gonna come.”

“I know you are,” he purrs. “Let go for me, let me feel you, my love.”

With two more thrusts of his hips, you unravel.

He groans as you tremble around him, but mostly, he watches your face, rapt by the way you throw your head back against the bed and gasp his name like it’s the only thing that will save you.

“You’re beautiful when you come,” he breathes. “Absolutely stunning.”

He waits until you catch your breath before he kisses you again, slow and sensual. His hips are still rocking in that beautifully slow rhythm and you don’t know how it can still feel so good.

He keeps moving against you, his touch and his low murmurs of praise invoking a symphony of sensations. He presses deeper and your body sings with every thrust, your muscles tensing and tightening around him like you never want him to leave. Your climax swells again and you come with a whimper, your whole body shaking as he fucks you through it.

You want him to come, want to hear the sounds he makes and feel his sweet, hot release burning inside of you.

“I want you to come for me,” you breathe.

He grins at you. “Oh, I will, but not yet. You’re not done yet.”

You whimper. “Loki—”

“Two more, my love, two more and then I’ll come for you.”

Somehow, you give him three. By the second one, he’s panting and his words have become rough, his voice a growl as he utters some of the filthiest praise you’ve ever heard. The third builds quickly after that and you know instinctively that you’re going to take him over the edge with you this time.

You fight to keep your eyes open against the tidal wave of pleasure blooming again in your hips. You need to see him come undone.

As in everything else he does, he’s unfairly beautiful—he throws his head back, letting out a low groan that you can feel all the way to the tips of your toes. His cheeks are flushed, a few ink dark curls plastered to the light sheen of sweat on his forehead. You can feel him emptying himself inside you, his release hot and hard won.

It seems to last a long time and it’s another minute before his hips slow to a halt. He kisses you, so soft and sweet it would almost seem chaste were it not for the fact that his cock is still throbbing inside of you.

After a moment, he slowly eases out of you, rolling over onto his back, his arm snaking around your waist and pulling you to him like he can’t bear to be parted from you even for a moment.

You curl up against his side, your legs tangling with his. He takes your hand, lacing his fingers with yours before resting your clasped hands on his heart.

You could fall in love like this, you think sleepily to yourself.

You don’t know it then, but you’re right.

*

Time moves differently at the TVA, but a couple years later, there’s a ring in a box on your desk.

Loki likes a spectacle and you’d daydreamed about a traditional wedding, but when you talk it over, you both agree that you want to do something different, something quiet, something just for the two of you.

“I do think we should tell Mobius beforehand,” you say to Loki.

“Isn’t the point of eloping that no one knows until after it’s done?” says Loki.

“Yes, but I feel like we could make one exception,” you say. “If we’d done a full wedding, I would have asked him to give me away.”

Loki’s gaze softens a bit then and he pulls you close. “All right. But we only tell him right before we leave. The man can’t keep a secret.”

But Mobius doesn’t seem terribly surprised when you tell him—in fact, he seems far more concerned about your wedding gift.

“I didn’t have a chance to wrap it yet,” he says. He’s retrieved a large picture frame that had been propped against his desk, though he keeps it turned away from you. “So…this also requires a bit of an overdue confession for context.”

You raise your eyebrows. “A confession?”

“A confession,” says Mobius.

“Will I be angry about this?” asks Loki at the same time you say, “Is this like a go to jail confession or a misdemeanor confession?”

Mobius gives a good natured chuckle, shaking his head slightly. “God, the two of you. Always so dramatic. No wonder you ended up together.” He takes what feels like an unnecessarily long drink from the coffee mug on his desk. “It’s not bad, I promise.” Another sip of coffee. 

Loki sighs. “He always does this,” he says to you. “Have you noticed? Whenever he has something that you want to know, he stalls and drags it out just to torment you.”

“Okay,” you say, “but you jumping in to bicker with him probably doesn’t help.”

“I’m not bickering,” says Loki. “I’m simply pointing out that he’s stalling—”

“What was it you were saying, Mobius?” you say brightly, nudging Loki with your elbow.

Mobius’ eyes twinkle. “See,” he says to Loki, “I always liked her. It’s a good match.”

You don’t have to look at Loki to know he’s rolling his eyes, though he also makes a point of surreptitiously pinching your ass, a detail you hope Mobius doesn’t notice.

“Anyway,” says Mobius, taking a deep breath, “it was pretty clear to me from the start that you liked each other. And you also seemed absolutely determined to get in your own way.” He points to Loki. “Especially you with your whole stilted Asgardian prince thing.”

Loki frowns. “What are you talking about?”

Mobius sighs. “Anytime you like someone, it’s like your brain gets a factory reset and you get all overly polite and courtly.”

Loki scoffs. “I don’t do that at all.”

“You do. It’s deeply weird. You’re like a mannerly robot.”

Loki turns to you. “Darling, tell him he’s being absurd.”

You reach over and squeeze his hand. “You did call me ‘my lady’ a couple of times in the early days.”

Loki sighs and looks back at Mobius. “What was your point in mentioning this?”

“Well,” says Mobius, “you seemed pretty determined to get in your own way, so nothing was happening. And eventually I got sick of all of the pining, so I decided to take matters into my own hands.”

“What do you mean?”

Mobius pauses, a hint of a smile pulling at the corners of his mouth. “There wasn’t a breakthrough with Berlitz that weekend. What there was was a surplus in the overtime budget and a high priority indexing project for Archives.”

Your lips part as your brain slowly puts the pieces together. Mobius’ eyes twinkle.

“Wait,” you say, “you lied to us?”

“I did not lie,” says Mobius, his demeanor suddenly becoming very serious. “That would have been wrong.” He nods at Loki. “Also, it would’ve tipped him off and that would have ruined the whole thing. I simply failed to mention that the cart of files that I gave you needed to be sorted for indexing for the Archives department and I peppered in a couple of unrelated things about Berlitz.”

“But the office was empty that weekend,” says Loki.

Mobius snaps his fingers. “Right. I did make some adjustments to the schedule that weekend.”

“And the disturbance that prevented her from returning home on Saturday night?”

Mobius spreads his hands wide and grins. “All me, buddy. Paid G-21 five hundred bucks for that one.”

Loki pauses for a moment and then looks at you. “I don’t think I can be mad about this. I’m genuinely impressed.”

“I mean, I can’t argue with the results, but Jesus, Mobius, you could’ve just set us up on a blind date,” you say.

“Ah, but that’s not as fun,” Mobius says. “Plus, it wouldn’t have made for as good a wedding gift.” He turns the frame around and hands it to you both.

It’s both your timecards from that pay period, neatly framed side by side. Your eyes well with tears and Mobius smiles.

“Honestly, I’m just relieved it’s not a jet ski,” says Loki.

“He's deflecting,” you say to Mobius in an exaggerated whisper.

“I know,” he whispers back.

But you can’t help but notice that Loki’s eyes are brighter than normal.

“Okay, now get out of here,” says Mobius. “You’ve got a wedding to get to.”

Twenty minutes later, you’re wearing a simple white dress and standing with Loki in front of a time door, your hand clasped in his.

“Technically, we don’t have a supervisor’s approval for this,” you say with a wry smile.

He looks at you, eyes dancing with mirth. “I had Mobius sign off on the paperwork while you were getting ready.”

Your heart swells and your smile is so wide that you feel like your face might split in two. “Then hurry up and marry me, Laufeyson.”

He grins and tugs you through the time door.

-------

But wait! There's more: I don't have a masterlist for this, but if you enjoy these idiots, check out Daylight, a sort of sequel.

#loki smut #loki x reader #loki x reader smut #loki laufeyson smut #loki x female reader smut #loki x female reader #loki laufeyson #loki fanfiction #loki fanfic #tva loki x reader

[aethelwyneleigh27]

TF141 Scenarios and Headcanons

(Them interacting with the mini and pink version of Lieutenant Simon "Ghost" Riley) Inspired by my previous post

Credits to @puff0o0 for this wonderful art that I requested and all the other art that's used in this post, she delivered and slayed. I genuinely love your art style because the textures looks like crayons were used and it's just so cute, thanks so much Puff <3

Pairings:

Ghost x Wife!Reader

Justice for Soap? Poor guy has been a victim in this entire set of scenarios.

ꕥ HOPE YOU ENJOY! ꕥ

❥ Simon bringing mini Ghostie for her to interact with the Taskforce again. Safe to say Soap got hit at the back of his head for even trying to make fun of the pink carrier (that you, his loving wife bought for the baby), while the little one was fidgeting with the red bow that decorated the front of the strap carrier.

❥ Ghostie didn't earn the nickname till the second time Simon brought her with him bringing the mask along and she proudly wore it. They actually went through the effort of getting her a tailored camo print uniform with a little patch embroidered with the words "youngest recruit" and "Riley" embroidered on the back of the shirt.

❥ Mini Ghostie keeping herself busy with the crayons and papers provided by uncle Gaz, drawing herself, her dad and the other Taskforce members then proudly showing it off to them after they're done being busy. (It earned a spot on the base's fridge, Price bought a magnet for that purpose alone because it was held up by tape for the longest time)

❥ A little visual for you guys provided by my favorite and beloved mutual @puff0o0:

❥ Ghostie and Gaz exchange drawings on a basis, more oftentimes it's funny faces that Soap makes. Soap saw them..

"I DINNAE LOOK LIKE THAT"

*Gaz raising a brow at him while Ghostie was giggling at Soap raising his voice*

❥ And yes, Gaz was responsible for the shrekified version of Soap that was on the fridge.

❥ Soap tried to draw something as an insult towards Gaz but it backfired and little Ghostie ended up loving it and taking it home to display it on the wall of her room:

❥ Gaz tends to be pursuaded by every little pout Ghostie gives him, probably the reason behind him being her favorite uncle. Ghostie made a drawing of Gaz once with an outlined heart around the picture, he now has it framed on his desk.

❥ Safe to say that Ghostie was amused by Soap getting hurt in any way possible, at first it started with her dad playfully punching the sergeant that made her giggle but then it slowly started to turn into her taking matters into her own hands and actually hitting uncle Soap herself. (Poor Soap)

❥ Little one constantly either slaps Soap or pulls on his mohawk. Yeah Ghost probably taught her that, she loves seeing her dad amused and giggles when she makes her dad chuckle. (Cue annoyed Soap noises)

❥ Uncle Gaz calls her "Boo" sometimes because he thought it was fitting and yes he took it from that one animated movie character, more likely sets his phone up and let's her use it to watch Disney movies because he's the only one who has Disney plus. (Frozen and Mulan were playing non-stop and now they all know the song "I'll make a man out of you" word for word)

❥ The idiots encouraged little Ghostie to chug a bottle full of milk as if she was chugging beer while cheering her on, Simon sipped on his whiskey not knowing he'd regret it later on, they all had to deal with a massive spit up because they made her drink too much and too quickly. (Soap had to wash that shirt 3 times before the smell of milk became more faint)

❥ Little Ghostie calls Price her grandpa and nobody's correcting her even if she genuinely thinks that Price is her dad's father. Price was definitely the one who had a uniform tailored for her but it was Gaz's idea.

❥ Believe it or not, Little Ghostie is loved by almost all of the recruits. Lieutenant Riley has a DAUGHTER?! He has a wife..? Yeah that was their first reaction. But ultimately they loved her because Little Ghostie was a sweet bundle of joy who loves giving flowers to female recruits and uncle Gaz.

❥ Despite all the bullying uncle Soap has been through, he still loves that kid to death and couldn't be more prouder when L.T. Riley and his wife chose him, Roach and Gaz to be godfathers.

❥ Speaking of uncle Roach, him and Ghostie get along really well. Even though there's not much of a verbal conversation going on, they still manage to cause chaos together. She likes to fidget with the makeshift antennas that come with the helmet of his tactical gear.

❥ Nobody can stand it when she's crying, she's not even loud, she's almost so quiet when she cries but gosh is it heart breaking. Especially for Gaz, Ghostie's teary puppy eyes looking up at him while her arms are in the air. "Uppies uncle, please" she hiccups.

❥ Gaz is the one always carrying her around, if everyone's being honest then I don't think she was ever down on her feet at some point unless she was playing around with the recruits.

❥ If Simon was being honest, he enjoyed the sound of Ghostie's feet thumping around base.

❥ Ghostie loves handfeeding her dad, she does it all the time. Technically she still has a difficult time using utensils so hands would do for now.

❥ Roach gave the little thing a sip of his coffee and she was practically bouncing off the walls. Yeah that wasn't a very bright idea.

❥ She was a late teether, Soap was the victim. Not only was she caught chewing on the strap of his tactical gear, Ghostie actually bit him with her baby teeth that were only halfway out when he tried to swat her away.

❥ Uncle Gaz and grandpa Price taking out the little one for ice cream so her need for sugar is satisfied and to cool her gums off.

❥ Ghostie's uncles taking her to the park/playground. (Gaz was the one recording)

❥ Soap got in trouble for teaching mini Ghostie how to curse, you weren't too happy about that because now your daughter is saying "bitch" endlessly in the wrong context.

A/n: I hope you guys liked it, I put a lot of effort into this and the last post. Please check out Puff's account if you don't know her yet, I promise she is the sweetest person and her CoD content is a big hit.

#cod x reader #aethelwyne lia writes #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #ghost x you #ghost x reader #ghost cod #cod drabble #cod scenarios #cod headcanons #john soap mactavish #gary roach sanderson #john price #kyle gaz garrick #task force 141 #cod mwf2 #cod mwii #cod fanfic #cod fanart

[xerith-42]

Some things we may have forgotten

I've been rewatching MCD and taking extensive notes on it in hopes that I'll never have to watch it again and this is just a list of things that I don't see mentioned or brought up very often/ever that we should talk about and think about more

In the first episode Garroth tries to attack Vylad (angst potential) and Vylad literally just combat locks him by logging out of the game. This is objectively funny and should not be rewritten in any capacity. This should be canon as it is in every universe.

Aphmau's cat Meowki gets randomly killed in Episode 12 by a skeleton while Kiki is right upstairs. Just saying, there's some angst potential there.

In episode 11 Garroth reveals that he knows some medicine. Pretty sure this is never brought up again, but we could always bring it up.

Logan is apparently good with a bow while Zenix is trash at it despite being a self proclaimed "expert archer" which I think is very funny (I know this is part of Zenix's cover but what if we took it seriously it would be so funny)

Zoey is originally from the river village, as is Donna. Pretty sure they retcon that for Zoey, but I like to think the two of them could have been friends before Phoenix Drop.

Garroth actually almost dies in episode 15. Like Dr. Doctor says he will probably die soon at the start of the episode. And he doesn't get healed until episode 20. He literally spends 5 episodes laid up in bed dying.

Brendan's at his side probably angsting the entire time I'm just saying if you want sad gay fanfics, it's sitting right there!

Azura and Garroth were friends as kids??? Hello???? I think this is just a massive plot hole considering what Garroth's actual backstory ends up being asjfgshjdfgjk

Okay but if we twist it a little bit, they were friends as kids as in like at the guard academy??? Bc they're like vaguely teenage/young adult so maybe that's what she means? In which case I wanna think about that more because childhood friends to lovers is one of my favorite romance arcs ever. But is it really childhood friends if you met when you were like... 18?? And you're in your like mid to late twenties probably, I wouldn't really classify that as childhood friends.

WAIT IT GETS WORSE!

I don't... I don't even have a joke here, this is just a massive plot hole. Like all of this is just not true to Garroth's backstory as we know it. Grew up in the same village? You mean O'Khasis?? Where Garroth also FAKED HIS DEATH????

I literally don't know what to say to this I was just trying to find silly little facts to try and incorporate into my rewrite and instead I found a massive gaping plot hole

Moving on, in episode 19 when Aphmau confronts Zenix and they fight, he actually apologizes to her. As if he regrets having to hurt her for the sake of his/the Shadow King's goals.

The Lord of Brightport says the Shadow King "used to be a lord". Which like... Okay, I can bend backwards a few ways to say that he could be referring to how Shad started Falcon Claw, but how the fuck does this dude know that??? I feel like Laurance constantly just stumbling into plot holes by complete accident

Dale is apparently a Garmau shipper, going as far as to ask Aphmau if she plans on hooking up with Garroth. I like to think that he and Molly have a bet going for how long it takes for one of the two of them to finally fess up.

Raven's mom tried to eat him??

Okay then.

#minecraft diaries #text post #aphblr #aphverse #garroth ro'meave #laurance zvahl #screenshots #silly post #I just think we need to talk about these more #aphmau #mcd zoey #mcd logan #mcd brendan #mcd kiki #my beloved #this post is a mess #most of my posts are though #it's part of the fun

[theemporium]

just saw your last post about Lando filming and now I need to read a smut fic about it like him trying to control himself but he just has to fuck reader so he stops filming and she's like "why'd you stop" and he's like "you're too hot babe" or something along these lines

thank you for requesting!🫶🏽

.

Lando didn’t have many regrets in his life, but this was definitely up there.

To be fair, the tripod you had bought had been on its last legs for a while (no pun intended), and you had been meaning to invest in a new and better one for a while. But like most things, you had kept putting it off until eventually the tripod fell apart and you were left with finally purchasing a new one after so many weeks of hoping tape and books tucked under the legs would be good enough.

The issue was that it wouldn’t arrive for another few days, which left you tripod-less when you were scheduled to release a video in the next two days. You had tried balancing it on the edge of your nightstand, on a massive pile of textbooks and even a chair. 

But the angle was never right and it was starting to frustrate you. 

So, Lando being the good boyfriend he was and being home in between races, he offered to be your cameraman. It would be a different angle, a more perspective side rather than your camera being set up at the end of your bed. It would be good, or so he kept telling you. And he wanted to help you, he really did. 

But he really didn’t think his offer through because now he was standing at the edge of your bed, gripping your camera between his fingers and pretending like his cock wasn’t rock hard and straining against the fabric of his sweatpants. 

“Fuck,” you cried out, your head thrown back against the pillows. 

You looked wrecked. You had been teasing yourself for the better part of the last half an hour, and he was forced to watch every single second of it. He was forced to watch the way you laid across your silk sheets in the white two piece lace set that he definitely had never seen before. He was forced to watch you tease and play with yourself, a vibrator placed over your clothed cunt as you whined and preened until you soaked through the material. He was forced to watch as you sunk your fingers inside yourself, letting out needy gasps that he just wished was his name. 

He was forced to watch and he was quickly losing his patience. 

But his breaking point was when when you looked at him, your lids hooded and your lips swollen from biting on them so much—-and he just couldn’t take it.

You barely had time to take in the fact he shut the camera off, placing it on your desk before he was crawling over you, his lips pressed against yours in mere seconds. You instantly sunk into his embrace, moaning in relief as you felt his tongue swipe along your bottom lip.

“What are you doing?” you murmured breathlessly, your eyes fluttering shut when he began to leave a trail of kisses down the column of your neck.

“Couldn’t fucking take it anymore,” he grumbled, his teeth scraping along the spot at the base of your neck that had you arching into him. “Watching you in this little fucking number, whining and begging and looking so pretty.”

“Lando,” you gasped.

“I needed to taste you, Angel,” he mumbled as he pulled back enough to look down at you, to take in the way your needy eyes looked up at him. His eyes never left yours as he reached for your hand, your fingers still wet and glistening with your arousal. His head dipped down, his mouth wrapping around your fingers as he licked them clean, a low moan sounded from the back of his throat.

“Lando, please,” you whined. 

“That’s right, baby,” he murmured as he moved to rest between your legs, his arms curling around your thighs and his hands pinning your hips to the mattress. “Say my name, Angel.”

Your fingers gripped the silk sheets into tight fists. “What about the video?”

His grin was boyish as he looked up at you. “We can make our own video first, Angel. A lil’ thing for me and you.”

.

#lando norris #formula one #f1 #lando norris x reader #lando norris x you #lando norris x y/n #lando norris fic #lando norris one shot #lando norris smut #formula one x reader #formula one x you #formula one x y/n #formula one fic #formula one one shot #formula one smut #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 x y/n #f1 fic #f1 one shot #f1 smut

[elliesbelle]

nobody compares to you

chapter 14

pairing: ellie x reader

synopsis: you're in your junior year of college and at a party, you run into the girl who broke your heart: ellie williams. despite the time it took to reset your life, will you risk a broken heart again for her?

content warnings: modern college au, cursing, angst, dealer!ellie, some setting is in a hospital, mentions of catheters and needles, descriptions and talk of anaphylaxis, mentions of financial difficulties, mentions of alcohol, mentions of toxic parents, mentions of death and suicide, minors do not interact

word count: 7.9k

chapters: one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve, thirteen, fourteen

series masterlist

my masterlist

i have a ko-if if you like my work so much that you feel compelled to tip me ♡︎

the "nobody compares to you" spotify playlist

palestine will be free

The first thing you feel is something plastic poking the inside of your nose. It smelled of chilly, medicinal air conditioning. 

The next thing you feel is a massive, unpleasant weight on your chest. Then at the crown of your head. Then some weird pressure squeezing your calves every few seconds. Then an entirely full bladder. 

“I need to fucking pee.” You mutter, voice dry and raspy. 

“I think you can just go, dude.” A familiar voice replies. 

You fight against the crustiness of your eyes but immediately regret it. All you can see through the slits of your eyelids is a harsh, white light. 

“Am I… Am I fucking blind?” You whine. 

“I’m pretty sure that your eyeballs are still inside your head. So hopefully not.” You hear the voice chuckle. 

You fight against the unforgiving glare from above, forcing your eyes open. It takes a few moments to gain control of your body, but you’re eventually able to crane your neck towards where the voice had previously echoed from. 

“J-Jesse?” You croak. 

“Yeah. I’m here, bud.” Your raven-haired friend smiles. 

You spot him to your left, sitting in, what appears to be, an uncomfortable armchair. He wore a blue disposable mask over his nose and mouth, his hair looking unkempt and unshowered, and you notice how his clothes look wrinkled and slept in. 

“What happened? Are you alright? What’s going on?” You groggily inquire. 

“You’re the one all strapped to a hospital bed, but you’re asking me if I’m okay?” 

Jesse takes your hand and squeezes it appreciatively. He flashes you a soft, warm smile. 

“How are you feeling?” He asks. 

“I-I’m not sure…” You admit. “What… what the hell happened?” 

“Well,” Jesse starts slowly. “You went on a date with Anderson to Orchards yesterday. At the end of it, you were being a total dummy and made out with her after she ate a whole plate of shrimp.” 

“N-no, no,” You interrupt, scrunching your face up as you try to recall the previous day’s events. “She ate this whole soup thing for dinner. Some weird French dish with some weird-sounding name.” 

“Bouillabaisse,” Jesse clarifies. “It’s a fish soup. It doesn’t always have shellfish in it, but hers apparently did.” 

You groan. 

“Oh, I am such a dumbass.” 

“Please explain to me exactly how you were being a dumbass in this situation.” 

“You literally just said that I was a dummy!” 

“That was Jesse of the past. I’m a much more mature man now in my old age.” 

You attempt to smack his arm, but he’s saved by the many coils of IVs attached to you, pulling your hand back. 

As he playfully rebukes you for attempted physical abuse, another person enters the room. A kind-looking nurse walks in with a clipboard in hand. Wearing dark blue scrubs, a low ponytail, and a surgical mask, she greets you with a friendly wave. She approaches your bedside opposite Jesse, and her glasses-covered eyes indicate a friendly smile. 

“Hi there,” She nods. “My name is Yoojin. I’m your nurse today. I’m so sorry for not being here when you woke up. I had to step out for a few seconds, but your brother here assured me that you were in capable hands.” 

You turn to Jesse and mouth in amusement, “Brother?” 

He suppresses a laugh. 

“Later.” He whispers through his mask. 

You turn to Yoojin with a small grin. 

“No worries. I only just woke up now.” You assure. 

She gives you, what you assume, is another smile under her mask. 

“So how are you feeling?” 

Jesse remained by your side the entire time, only leaving briefly when he needed to use the bathroom or take a call. He sympathized with your gripes about being bedridden, making lighthearted jokes about your catheter, messing around with the IPC devices off your legs over and over until a nurse came in and kindly asked him to stop. 

The TV in your room wasn’t working, so he kept you entertained, cracking his usual dad jokes and telling some old stories of Jackson you hadn’t heard yet. You pretended not to notice that the anecdotes he’d recall always excluded an essential person in his childhood, and you tried your best not to remark on it. 

After a couple of hours, Dina finally came around to visit. She walks in as you’re berating Jesse for stealing a fruit cup you knew you weren’t going to eat. The sight of her immediately warms your heart. 

“Dina!” You exclaim. “Oh, I missed you.” 

Dina sets her bag down next to Jesse, lowers her face mask for a moment to give him a quick peck on the cheek, and pulls up a chair next to him. She takes your hand and beams at you graciously. You notice that her eyes are slightly glassy. 

“Oh, babe,” She sighs. “I missed you too. Sorry that I’m just getting here. Had to deal with a few things before I came over.” 

“Don’t apologize, D. I’m just glad to see you.” 

She squeezes your hand softly. 

“I’m so glad you’re awake,” She gulps. “You worried us so much.” 

“Sorry about that,” You grin sheepishly. “I was being a bit of a dummy.” 

Dina blinks for a moment before giving Jesse a smack on the back of his head at this. 

“Oy vey. You asshole.” She chides knowingly. 

“Hey! No need to abuse me! I’m delicate.” 

He caresses the spot where she hit him as you laugh heartily. 

The couple recounts the events of last night for you, explaining in detail as much as they know. You listen without interruption until they reach the topic of your EpiPen. 

“But how’d you guys get to my EpiPen so quickly? Did you pass by my apartment?” You ask them curiously. “I don’t mind if you guys did! It’s just not that close to the restaurant. Wouldn’t have made much sense to book it back to my apartment, honestly.” 

Dina and Jesse share a look you don’t understand. Your eyebrows furrow, confused by their hesitation. Eventually, Dina responds. 

“Uh, well…” She begins slowly. “Jesse actually happened to have a spare EpiPen at his place. Thank god, right?” 

“You did?” You turn your head towards Jesse. “I didn’t even know you had one, Jesse.” 

“Y-yeah,” Dina continues cautiously as you notice Jesse’s expression shift to a poker face. “He used to have an, uh, egg allergy growing up.” 

“What?” You ask incredulously. 

“Yup,” Jesse chimes in. “I grew out of it when I was in high school. But my mom still insists that I have an EpiPen on me. Just in case.” 

You continue to look completely discombobulated. You don’t fully buy their story, especially since neither were looking you directly in the face. But you’ve always trusted Dina as a sister and Jesse like a brother, so you half-heartedly accept the tale they’ve decided to present you with. 

“Oh, okay,” You say, slightly unconvinced. “Well, thank god for that, I guess. Is it okay that you used it on me, though? What if you suddenly need it again?” 

“No worries,” Jesse assures you. “I’ll call my mom and ask her to send me a new one.” 

His poker face improves, so you concede for now. 

The couple continue to recount the previous day’s events until they eventually catch up to the present. 

“Only family is technically allowed to visit you in the ICU,” Dina confesses at one point. “Jesse had to say he’s your brother to get past the nurses' station. The nurse manning the desk at the time could definitely tell we were lying, but she was really nice and allowed it anyway.” 

“Oh, gotcha,” You say. “Well, you’re basically my brother, anyway.” 

“You should feel so lucky to share the same genes as me.” He boasts, stealthily avoiding yet another smack from Dina. 

“What about you, D?” You ask, turning towards her. “What did you say you were? My sister?” 

“Nah, I didn’t wanna be siblings with Jesse, even just as pretend.” She grimaces. 

“Okay, yeah, didn’t think of that,” You realize, scrunching up your nose in total disgust at the thought. “Gross.” 

“Wouldn’t be able to get that image out of my head.” Dina shudders. “Anyway, I told them that I’m your life partner.” 

“My what?” You giggle. 

“Hey, it counts!” Dina defends. “Well, kind of. The nurse had to list me as your ‘spouse’ instead, which feels like a hate crime.” 

“Oh, shut up.” You laugh as Jesse chuckles. 

“What? You don’t wanna be married to me?” Dina asks in mocking shock and offense. 

“I am absolutely honoured to be married to you,” You assure her. “I’m just worried about poor Jesse. How in the world are we supposed to break it to him that we’ve actually been married for over ten years?” 

“Oh, please, Jesse’s known from the start that he’s always just been a side piece.” 

“Hey!” Jesse interjects in indignance. “I’m right here.” 

“Be quiet, side piece. The wife and I are speaking.” Dina waves him off. 

You burst out into laughter at Jesse’s playfully hurt expression. 

The three of you discuss what the doctors have told you, and you eventually bring up the conditions required of you to be discharged. 

“I know that the doctors and nurses saved my life and whatever. And of course, I’m very grateful. And I truly do not mean any disrespect,” You say. “But I want to get the fuck out of here, uhh, right fucking now.” 

Dina smiles and Jesse chuckles. 

“I know, babe.” Dina sympathizes. 

“You’ll be out sooner than you know, bud,” Jesse adds. “Don’t stress over it. We’ll get you out as soon as possible.” 

“Oh!” Dina suddenly pipes up and reaches into her bag. “I can’t believe I forgot. I brought your phone. I was able to grab your purse for you before the paramedics took you away. I turned it off and charged it at home, so it should have some juice.” 

She places your phone in your hand, and you flash her a grateful smile. 

“D, you need to be canonized for your good deeds, I swear. With a statue and everything.” 

“Oh, I know,” Dina smirks. “Brought your wallet too. Not sure if you wanna keep it here or bring it back to your apartment, though.” 

“I’ll ask them if I can keep it here with me.” 

A thought suddenly hits you. 

“I’ll… I’ll have to figure out how to pay for all this when I get out.” You sigh. 

“Oh, babe,” Dina says reassuringly. “Don’t worry about any of that right now. Just focus on resting, okay?” 

“Your insurance will hopefully take care of a huge chunk of it,” Jesse contemplates. “It’s through your dad, right?” 

“That’s what I’m worried about,” You say as your hands begin to fidget anxiously. “Something as big as this, they’ll probably contact my parents. I… I can’t let them know I’m in here. I know it’ll start shit and… I just know it won’t be good.” 

The couple give you identical, concerned looks. 

“D-do they know? Th-that I’m in here?” You ask timidly. 

“Not that we know,” Jesse replies. “Neither of them is on your emergency contact list. And you know that Dina and I would never speak to either of them. Unless it’s to tell them to shove a stick up their respective asses.” 

You and Dina giggle. 

“Speaking of which,” Dina adds. “You can ask your uncle. I called him yesterday while you were still out. I hope that’s alright.” 

“Oh, that was so thoughtful of you,” You say gratefully. “What did he say? I hope he didn’t worry too much.” 

“Honey, you almost died. Of course, he’s worried. He loves you.” She checks the time on her phone. “He should be arriving sometime later today, actually.” 

“Shit,” You groan. “He didn’t have to do that. He gets so busy with work during this time of the year. This must have been so inconvenient—” 

Jesse suddenly takes his thumb and middle finger and flicks you on the forehead. 

“What the fuck!” You exclaim in indignance, rubbing the spot you were hit, as Dina gives him another hard smack on the head. Jesse ignores you both. 

“You are more important than any goddamn job that exists in the world, in the whole motherfucking galaxy. Your uncle loves you, just as we do. So no more complaining about it, dumbass.” 

You give him a pouty look, but his words fill your heart. 

Your best friends stay the rest of the time until your uncle arrives around midday. Relief and affection overwhelm you when he enters the room. You squeeze him with the tightest embrace you can possibly give for someone essentially strapped to their hospital bed. You ignore the loud beeping resulting from the tangling of your many IV wires. 

After your friends help you unravel all the cords, they gather their things and get up from their chairs. 

“We’ll let you guys talk.” Jesse says, offering his seat to your uncle. 

“Oh, you don’t have to leave.” Your uncle graciously assures them. 

“It’s alright; have some family time,” Jesse insists kindly. “I’m pretty sure she can only have two visitors at a time, anyway.” 

The couple make their way towards the sliding glass door. 

“I cannot express how grateful I am for you two,” Your uncle says before they exit. “Thank you for saving her life. And thank you for keeping me in the loop.” 

“Please, no need to thank us, really.” Dina nods kindly. “She’s family. We would do absolutely anything for her.” 

“That means you’re both family to me too.” Your uncle concludes. “Thank you.” 

You hold back tears of vast emotion from three of the most important people in your life exchanging such caring sentiments. You’ve never felt luckier. 

“We’ll be in the waiting room,” Jesse promises. “Let us know if either of you needs anything, okay?” 

Jesse and Dina take their leave, and your uncle subsequently takes a seat next to you. 

“Oh, Uncle,” You start before he can speak. “I’m so, so sorry. You shouldn’t have flown all this way. I can’t believe I was so stupid to have—” 

“Hey, hey,” Your uncle interjects. “None of that. You have no reason to be sorry. You needed me, so I’m here. I’m not mad, and this is not your fault.” 

Tears form in the corners of your eyes. 

“I just feel like I’ve inconvenienced so many people. If I could have just paid attention…” You lament. “And now I’ve totally made you drop everything to be here. I know you’ve still got work—” 

“You are a thousand times more important than my job, sweetheart.” He shakes his head and squeezes your hand, echoing Jesse’s previous words. 

“But…” 

“You are my family. Nothing is more important than that.” 

You smile at his adamancy. 

“And especially since losing Rafael,” He continues. “I think of you as my own.” 

“I know, Uncle.” 

You squeeze his hand back in affection. 

“D-did…” You suddenly say. “Did you tell—” 

“No, your mother and father don’t know a thing about this.” He answers insightfully. 

“Thank god.” 

“Did you want me to tell them?” 

You grimace. Your uncle chuckles. 

“I figured as much.” He surmises. 

“I just don’t know how to keep this from them forever, though,” You continue. “They’ll see it through the insurance company. I…” 

“Don’t worry about that. I can talk to the nurses later today before I leave, see if I can pay it in full myself without needing to use your father’s insurance.” 

“Uncle, please. Please don’t do that. This is going to be so costly, and you’ve still got your mortgage and Raf’s leftover student debt—” 

“I just want you to focus on getting better, alright? I don’t want anything else on your plate right now.” 

“Uncle, promise me. Please. Please promise me. Do not spend a single cent on this. I want to do this on my own. I’ll figure it out. Please promise me.” 

He gives you nothing more than a smile in response. 

Your friends and uncle take turns rotating as your company for the rest of the day. They’d only leave your side when the doctors and nurses needed to conduct extensive tests to ensure that you were still stable. You were never on your own for more than a few seconds, your loved ones determined that you not feel alone. 

You’d turned your phone on almost immediately after Dina’d handed it to you. But as a small, gracious gesture of appreciation, you had set it aside to give your visitors your undivided attention for the rest of the day. 

It wasn’t until the evening, when your friends and uncle waved you goodbye as visiting hours ended, that you allowed yourself to finally glance at your notifications. 

Anxiously picking your phone up, the first thought you have is to call Abby. Jesse and Dina had mentioned she was with them in the waiting room the night before. But, like your friends, she was informed that she wasn’t permitted to see you in the ICU as she wasn’t family. Dina and Jesse sent her home with the promise to let her know as soon as possible when you finally woke up and that you were alright. 

You notice that she’d messaged you earlier in the day. But much too embarrassed to face her just yet, you decide instead to first call your old freshman roommate. 

Tara picks up after only two rings, almost as if she’d been waiting by the phone for your call. She greets you with a happy shriek of your full name, an amused giggle escaping your lips as a response to her sudden enthusiasm. 

“Thank fucking god!!! I’ve been waiting all fucking day to hear the sound of your voice!” 

“Umm, I have no idea what you’re talking about,” You reply, smirking. “This is actually Satan, here to leave a message. I’m calling to let you know that I will be collecting your mortal soul sometime during the next 24 hours.” 

“Oh nooooo,” Tara plays along. “What on earth have I done to warrant eternal damnation, Miss Satan?” 

“Not sure if you know, but homosexuality is actually a cardinal sin. And unfortunately, you seem to be a notorious, flaming homosexual. I know, I know; it’s quite disappointing. But alas, I do not make the rules.”  

“But Miss Satan, are you not a homosexual too?” 

“Well, that’s exactly how I know it’s a sin.” 

The two of you crackle at each other’s banter, and you make plans in your head to spend more time with Tara and the rest of the girls after you’re released from the hospital. 

You and Tara chat for a little while about the most mundane things, like her classes the day before and her plans for the weekend. She apologizes for not having more to say and for “being so boring,” but you’re genuinely happy to just hear her prattle off about anything. 

At some point, she hands her phone over to Astrid, who greets you with a similarly delighted shriek that her girlfriend had received you with prior. She gushes over you with love and concern, insisting that she and all the Wilson girls come to visit you as soon as you’re out and adjusted. 

“Tara just about broke down when I told her about it.” She reveals. “She was about to leave for her shift at Ruston’s when Dina called, and I’m pretty sure the whole dorm could hear her sobbing.” 

“What?! I did not!” You hear Tara shout from a short distance. 

“You had so much snot running down from your nose that I just about hosed your face down before you left!” Astrid yells back. 

“Stop telling her that! She doesn’t need to hear all that!!” 

You giggle at the couple’s repartee. 

“Anyway,” Astrid continues. “Kris, Sid, and I tried to come down for a visit, but they apparently only let family in. Jesse and Dina seemed to have monopolized the fake roles of being your family already.” 

“Yeah, sorry about that, Addy.” 

“Oh, don’t be sorry,” She brushes off. “I’m just glad that you haven’t been alone there. Those two really care about you, you know.” 

“Yeah, I know.” 

“Dina started to make a whole fuss when they wouldn’t let us past,” Astrid continues. “Threatened to sue the nurses, all the doctors, the entire hospital. The receptionist nurse didn’t even get a chance to kick her out ‘cause Jesse himself forced her to go leave and take a walk to calm down. I don’t think she came back until a couple of hours later.” 

“Yeah, that sounds like our Dina.” You snort. 

The two of you discuss what you’d like to do whenever you finally get released, Astrid swearing to get you out of your apartment nearly every day after your discharge. 

“I don’t think I have all the stamina for all that, babe.” You chuckle. 

“Then you better get yourself to the gym with Jesse, and build that stamina the fuck up! I want your sexy self at parties and clubs, living your best 20s life with us!” 

You chuckle warily at this, simultaneously pushing away the reminder of who Jesse’s daily workout partner is. 

After saying your goodbyes to Tara and Astrid, you make brief calls to the rest of the girls of the Wilson Crew. They all answer your calls with an assortment of jubilant greetings, each girl expressing their elation and gratefulness that you’re finally awake and safe. 

You send individual texts of love to Dina, Jesse, and your uncle, thanking them extensively for coming to your aid and expressing your excitement to see them again very soon. 

Having done your rounds of gratitude, you finally acknowledge that you can no longer ignore the unread texts of the blonde-braided woman you’d had your near-fatal dinner with. You open up your message thread with Abby to see that she’d sent you only three texts earlier in the day. 

You stare at her text. 

Oh. Huh. 

No part of you blamed Abby for the incident; in fact, you’d been feeling a tremendous amount of remorse for putting her through such a traumatizing and jarring ordeal. It had been plaguing you so much since you woke up that you were far too embarrassed to ask Jesse and Dina more about her. 

But something about her texts bothers you. There was very little warmth and familiarity in her messages. Her words didn’t seem that of the woman who had been walking you to your classes every day, who showed you off to her friends at the Bow and the Arrow, who treated you to a lavish restaurant on a fancy date. Who kissed you with so much passion on the sidewalk of that same restaurant the evening before. 

Is… Is she angry with me? 

You continue to stare at her strange messages for several more minutes, unable to process the situation you’re somehow in now. You can’t think of an appropriate response that would lead to something honest, so you decide to put your response off. 

A-at least until after they release me… At least until I get home… 

The doctors only began to discuss the possibility of your discharge early Sunday morning. Though it hadn’t even been a full two days since your admittance, it took everything in you not to practically beg them to let you go. You’d been insisting to anyone who’d listen that you were completely fine, that you’d walk right out yourself if you weren’t strapped to your bed with a million wires. 

It wasn’t until midday, as you were mercilessly beating Jesse’s Shy Guy as Pink Gold Peach in Mario Kart, that Yoojin walked into your room with good news. You don’t notice her at first, too busy taunting Jesse for landing in 7th place while you scored 1st. 

“You only won because I got Lakitu’d in the second lap! Fuckin’ Isabelle was sending red shells at me nonstop…” Jesse gripes. 

“Sucks. Sounds like a personal problem, man.” You shrug. 

“Alright, I want a rematch, but on the Egg course this time.” 

“You’re such a sore fucking loser!” 

“There’s a shortcut on Yoshi’s circuit close to where the finish line is, by the way,” Yoojin interjects, eyes smiling. “If you use a mushroom and drift to the hidden waterfall on the right, it’ll get you pretty far ahead.” 

You and Jesse look up, a bit sheepish at her witnessing your juvenile behaviour. The nurse looks completely unbothered by it, however, and she approaches your bed as you place your controller down. 

“Aww, come on, Yoojin,” You whine. “Don’t tell him that! I’m on a winning streak!” 

“Shh,” Jesse shushes you, attempting to cover your face with one hand. “Don’t listen to her, Yoojin. She’s delirious from all the drugs you’ve been pumping her with. I must know all your secrets, ‘cause I swear, this one is cheating.” 

“Maybe later,” Yoojin laughs as you flick Jesse’s forehead. “Because you might want to hear what your doctor just told me.” 

Your ears perk up at this. 

“I can go home?” 

“Your most recent labs just came back, and everything looks good.” Yoojin nods. “And your vitals have been stable for the last 24 hours. So unless you plan on wolfing down ten pounds of shrimp sometime before leaving, we can get started on getting you released sometime later today.” 

Your face breaks out in a huge smile, and you turn to grasp Jesse’s arm. 

“Dude! I can go home!” You exclaim. 

“Yes, I heard,” Jesse says. You can feel his smirk through his face mask. “Finally.” 

You turn back to Yoojin. 

“I can go right now?” You ask. 

“It’ll take a couple of hours to make sure everything’s set for your discharge,” Yoojin says, chuckling at your eagerness. “But just hang tight, and you’ll be out of here in no time.” 

“Why don’t you guys settle things here while I go tell your uncle?” Jesse offers. 

Your uncle had stepped out to get some lunch at the hospital’s food court not too long ago. He and Jesse had arrived on the dot when visiting hours began earlier in the day. Dina had accompanied them but left shortly after to take care of other obligations, promising to be right back the second she was done. 

“Oh, that’d be great,” You say. “Thanks, Jess.” 

“No worries, bud. I’ll be right back.” 

He gives you a pat on the head before leaving you alone with the nurse. 

“So before you leave, we’ll go over a few things to make sure you don’t suddenly relapse during the next few days,” Yoojin begins. “And we’ll make sure you go home with a couple of new, unexpired EpiPens, just in case.” 

You nod as she goes on to explain the plans for your discharge. You listen attentively, determined not to end up back in the hospital like this again. As Yoojin wraps up, you work yourself up to ask her a question that’s been at the tip of your tongue since the beginning of the conversation. 

“Hey, umm, before you go,” You mutter nervously. “I wanted to ask about how much all of this will cost me. I-I know it’ll be pricey and all, especially with two brand new EpiPens, so I just want to be prepared.” 

“That’s not really something I can help you with,” Yoojin replies apologetically. “That’s the jurisdiction of the hospital’s billing department. But I’m sure you can get it all settled with your insurance after you’ve been released. Depending on what you have, they should cover most of it.” 

You give her a tentative smile as you wring your blanket between your fingers. 

“A-alright then.” You sigh defeatedly. 

It takes about two hours for you to finally be released from all your restraints and another hour until you’re finally walking out of the hospital and into the sunny parking lot. Yoojin allowed you a quick embrace before you left, insisting that you promise to be much more careful from here on out. 

You lean against your uncle and Jesse for support as you exit the hospital’s automatic sliding doors, legs still a little shaky after being bedridden for so long. Dina pulls up next to you in her car and gets out to open the passenger door. 

“M’lady.” She says with a bow, gesturing to the seat. 

“Shut up, D.” You laugh, rolling your eyes. 

“You sure you’ve got everything?” Your uncle inquires. 

“I think so,” You reply. “Didn’t really bring anything with me.” 

“Alright, well, I’ll head to my hotel room first so I can take care of a few things. I’ll meet the three of you at your apartment sometime later today. Sound good?” 

You, Jesse, and Dina all nod in unison. Before he walks away, you wrap your arms around him in a tight hug. 

“Thank you so much, Uncle,” You murmur. “It means so much to me that you came.” 

“Anything for you, sweetheart. Anything at all.” 

He gives you a quick squeeze before releasing you, promising he won’t take very long before walking away towards his rental car. 

“So,” Dina chimes. “Wanna grab some gross, greasy non-hospital food on the way home?” 

 When you finally cross the threshold of your apartment, you’d already wolfed down the majority of your fries along with half a chocolate milkshake. You collapse onto your couch with a relieved sigh, your best friends falling next to you on either side. You lean your head onto Dina’s shoulder as you take her hand between both of yours. 

“I think I’m about to go into the world’s longest food coma.” You decree. 

“I’m right alongside you, dude.” Jesse agrees, having devoured one and a half burgers himself on the way. 

“No comas, please, or we’re gonna have to turn right back around and readmit you into that hospital.” Dina says. 

“Never again, please,” You beg. “If I have to hear the nonstop beeping of a heart monitor for one more second, I’m going into straight-up fight-or-flight mode.” 

Your friends chuckle. 

“Alright,” Jesse eventually says as he sits up straighter. “Now that you’ve been freed, what do you want to do first?” 

You hum as you ponder his question. 

“Get so blackout drunk that I totally forget this entire experience ever even happened in the first place?” You offer. 

“Right, well, perhaps we can do something that isn’t completely stupid and detrimental to your health. Especially after you were just in the hospital after almost dying.” Dina retorts. 

You boo her as Jesse chuckles. 

“Well,” You continue. “I guess I should tell the girls I’m finally out. I promised them I would. Or did you guys say anything to them already?” 

“Not yet,” Dina says. “They’ll probably want to hear it from you.” 

You groan. 

“You’re right. Ugh. I don’t think I can handle the sheer amount of screaming and excitement that’ll come with it, though. Kris sounded like she was going to smother me with so much love that I’d suffocate from it.” 

“You can always put it off, at least until tomorrow.” Jesse counters. 

“I guess so. You think they’ll be mad?” 

“Babe,” Dina says, squeezing your hands and rolling her eyes. “You almost died. I think they’ll survive a day.” 

“Alright, alright,” You giggle. “I probably should focus on getting work done before class tomorrow, anyway.” 

“Ma’am, I know you are not thinking of going to your classes right after you were just in the hospital all weekend.” Jesse scolds sternly. 

“I’m fine!” 

“Dear lord.” Jesse sighs, exasperated. 

“Like I said,” Dina repeats. “You almost died. School is not a priority right now. You need to be resting, not writing essays and doing homework.” 

“I don’t want to fall behind!” 

“Didn’t your doctor give you a school note before we left earlier? She said you can give it to your professors to excuse you from your classes this week.” 

“Yeah, but it’s not mandatory or anything. I’m fully recovered now, so it just seems totally unnecessary.” 

“Like hell it is!” Dina bellows before releasing your hands to stand up from the couch. You fall flat on your face onto her spot when her shoulder disappears from under your head, and you muffle irritated curses into the couch cushion. You look up to see she’s disappeared momentarily into your bedroom. 

“D… What are you doing?” 

Dina reemerges after a few seconds, your laptop in her hands. 

“Babe. What’d you get that for?” You ask suspiciously. 

“I’m emailing all of your professors myself to tell them that you will not be attending any of your classes this week. Especially since it seems that you want to be such a stubborn dumbass about it…” Dina says matter-of-factly, shoving your head away from her spot on the couch to sit beside you once more. 

“Never should have given you my password.” You grumble as Dina opens up your laptop and easily bypasses your lockscreen. 

“Alright, who are all your professors again?” She asks, opening up your browser to access your email. 

“I’m not telling you!” You reply stubbornly, crossing your arms. 

“Hmm… I know she’s got Olinick’s double class on Tuesdays and Thursdays, Mulligan at least on Mondays—” Jesse lists, counting your professors on one hand. 

“No, no, no, I don’t!” You turn towards him, shoving your hands in his face. 

“—I think Joslin from the English department too, but I can’t remember if that was last year or this year.” 

“Jesse!” 

By the time your uncle arrives at your apartment, you’d conceded to your best friends and allowed them to draft an excuse email to all of your professors. Dina opens the door for him after he knocks while you make final edits to your letters, and he settles into the ratty, secondhand armchair right next to the couch. 

Your uncle chuckles at the scene before him: you with a focused look on your face typing rapidly on your laptop, Jesse leaning back into the couch while gently patting the top of your head as he continued to make suggestions to your email, and DIna taking her seat right back next to you before kicking her feet onto your lap as you lift and place your laptop on top of her legs. It had been a while since your uncle had seen you so relaxed around other people, the last time being right before your freshman year of college. His fondness for your best friends quickly grows by the second. 

You look up from your work for a moment to smile warmly at your uncle, and he returns it with one of his own. 

“Hi, Uncle! Sorry, I’m just finishing up this email to my professors.” 

“No need to apologize, sweetheart. You telling them you won’t be attending any classes this week?” 

“Yup,” Jesse answers for you. “Took a lot of bullying on our part to convince her not to overwork herself with school right now.” 

“This dummy wanted to go back to classes right away as if nothing happened.” Dina rolls her eyes as she extracts a foot from underneath your laptop to kick you softly, earning her a stern “Hey, hey, hey!” from you. 

“Well, thank goodness she has you two to set her straight.” Your uncle chuckles. 

“Oh, she’s absolutely lost without us.” Jesse says, continuing to pat the top of your head. 

Your uncle smiles. He can tell that Jesse’s joking around, but he knows that the couple have both been selflessly keeping you alive for the past few years. 

“So how are you feeling?” Your uncle continues with concern etched on his face. 

“Not so bad,” You admit. “Just so glad to be among civilians once again.” 

You feel Jesse rub your upper back kindly. 

“I’m sure,” Your uncle smiles kindly. “How about we talk about what you’re going to do now that you’re out?” 

The four of you discuss what the next, post-hospital visit steps would be. They remind you of the check-up appointment you have later in the week, caution you once more about what foods you need to constantly be looking out for, and double-check that you have your new EpiPens handy and within constant reach. 

“I still have my current EpiPen in the bathroom,” You say. “It hasn’t lapsed yet. So maybe I can give you each of the ones they sent me home with, if that isn’t too much of an inconvenience to either of you guys?” 

You turn towards Dina then Jesse. 

“You sure?” Jesse asks. 

“Yeah, I mean, I obviously don’t want something like this to happen again. But if, by some hideous trick of fate, I end up in a repeat situation, it might be smart to just have one in multiple places. Just to cover my bases, I guess.” 

“I don’t mind at all,” Dina nods. “As long as you have easy access to one at all times.” 

“Yeah, that was my thinking too,” You agree. “Plus, I don’t want to have to use one of yours again, Jess.” 

“Mm, I guess.” Jesse hums. 

Your eyes meet his and you once again recognize his poker face. 

“That sounds like a good plan,” Your uncle agrees. “Let’s try not to rely on just luck next time around.” 

You give him an apologetic smile. 

The sun had been set for at least an hour when Dina and Jesse finally took their leave. Both offer to stay the night, in case you suddenly need either of them, but you assure them that you’ll survive one night alone just fine. You embrace each of them tightly, putting every ounce of gratitude you have into your hugs. 

You settle back onto the couch after you see them both out the door, and you turn towards your uncle still sitting in the armchair. 

“I know I’ve said this probably a hundred times the past day or so,” You begin. “But thank you for coming, Uncle.” 

“I wouldn’t be able to forgive myself if I didn’t come,” He replies. “Neither would Raf if he was still around.” 

You both share a sad smile. 

“I miss him, Uncle…” You whisper suddenly. 

“I know. I do too.” 

You sigh before continuing. 

“I wish he was still here. I feel… I feel so incomplete without him around. Like this has all been an awful nightmare that I have yet to wake up from.” 

“I know just what you mean,” Your uncle laments. “But our lives still go on, sweetheart. I think it’d make him sad to see us grieving him for the rest of our lives.” 

“But… it just feels so wrong. It feels so wrong to stop grieving for him, to move on from him.” 

“It’s not exactly moving on from him,” Your uncle ponders. “It’s more like… We make a place for him in our hearts. It’s sort of like he becomes a part of us. He’ll always be in everything we do.” 

Your eyes well up as a childhood memory floods your thoughts. 

When you were eleven years old, you had your first anaphylactic experience. You and Rafael were hanging out at his house, your uncle at work all day. You were making a mess in the kitchen, developing concoctions with half the contents of the pantry. As you were dumping a bag of marshmallows into a blender full of graham crackers and banana slices, Rafael fished an old bag of chips out of one of the cabinets. 

The writing on the bag was all in a language you couldn’t understand, but the superheroes on the front seemed to be enjoying the crunchy snack. Raf was tearing the bag open before your greasy fingers started grabbing at its contents. 

It didn’t even take two minutes until Rafael realized something was wrong. You were annoyed and taken aback when he slapped the chips out of your hand. It wasn’t until he was hauling you to the garage and strapping you into the passenger seat that you began to feel dizzy. By the time Rafael had driven to the emergency room, your skin had broken out into hives and your throat felt completely swollen. The last thing that you remembered before blacking out was your faithful cousin scooping you up and sprinting to the emergency room’s entrance. 

You didn’t hear the end of it from your parents when you’d woken up from being unconscious after a couple of hours. Your mother spared no shame in relentlessly admonishing you, regardless of who was in the room, for your “stupidity.” The doctors and nurses offered you continuous looks of pity as they had to witness your many verbal lashings, though none stepped in to interfere. You were blamed for inconveniencing the family, for forgetting your EpiPen at home, for “forcing” Rafael to drive a car when he didn’t have his driver’s license yet, for obligating your parents to pay for your medical bills. 

From that day on, your fear of your parents’ wrath was far greater than the fear of possibly falling prey to your fatal allergy. 

All that gave you hope was your uncle and cousin coming to your defense. Unlike your parents, they showered you with care and love, especially Rafael who felt guilty and responsible for your admission. They nursed you back to health after you were released, Rafael promising you that he’d never let it happen to you again. 

 “Can I tell you something, Uncle?” You ask. “I didn’t even tell Jesse or Dina this. And I don’t think I ever could.”  

“You never even have to ask, sweetheart. You know you can tell me anything.” 

“I…” You gulp. “There was a point… while I was in the ICU that I was a little lucid for a few moments…” 

You wring your fingers together in uneasiness as you stare down at your lap, unable to meet your uncle’s eyes. 

“I… I didn’t know what was happening to me. I didn’t know I was going through anaphylaxis again. But I just knew… I felt that something was wrong with me.” 

Your uncle listens to you intently, his chin on his hands folded as if he were praying. 

“Something inside me… Somehow, I knew that I was dying,” You continue. “Or I knew that at that moment, I could die. I could keep going… or I could choose to let my body give out completely.” 

You finally meet your uncle’s gaze. 

“And I wanted to. I wanted to just… go,” You confess. “Not in a s-suicidal way. Not exactly, at least.” 

Your eyes fill with thick tears. 

“But… I wanted to be with him again. I knew that if I gave in, if I succumbed to whatever was killing me, I would see him again.” 

Your bottom lip shakes as you continue. 

“I miss him so f-fucking much, Uncle. I don’t know how to go on without him around. I’m so l-lost and confused, and all I want to do is talk to h-him about it. But I can’t. There’s n-nobody else in this world that I’ve ever felt as close to as him. Maybe except—” 

You break off before you can finish, shaking off the memory of ocean green eyes and a constellation of freckles. The look on your uncle’s face tells you that he already knows how your sentence was going to end, but he says nothing. 

“He told me he’d never let anything happen to me. He was always supposed to be here with me,” You sob. “I know that’s selfish. I know that his life didn’t revolve around me. But so much of mine did. I planned… I built my life to always include him. Now what the hell am I supposed to do?” 

Your uncle’s sad eyes watch as you roughly wipe your cheeks of the tears uncontrollably streaming down. 

“Sweetheart…” Your uncle begins as he stands up from the armchair to sit next to you on the couch. “You are not selfish. I know how much he meant to you. How much he still means to you.” 

He takes your hands between his. 

“I just…” You sniffle. “It’s been years. I thought I’d healed from it already. I thought I’d moved past all the pain.” 

“It’s not a continuous thing, dealing with your grief.” Your uncle smiles softly. “You’ll have moments, hard ones where it’ll all feel raw and fresh again. It doesn’t mean you’re weak or selfish. You just have your own way of handling your sadness.” 

You nod in acknowledgement of his words. 

“But I think we both owe it to Raf to live our lives, to be happy without him around,” He continues. “His gift to us was time. Time with him and great memories. Even if he’s no longer with us, we’ll continue to carry that gift with us wherever we go.” 

Your uncle smiles and you return it, though wistfully. 

“I’m very grateful that you trusted me to share this with me,” Your uncle begins. “But don’t be afraid to talk about this with your friends. Especially those two.” 

“Jesse and Dina?” 

He nods. 

“I see just how much they love you,” Your uncle says. “They seem like they would do absolutely anything for you. And I am so grateful that you have people like that in your life.” 

“Yeah, they… mean so much to me.” 

“I’m glad. So, please. If I’m not around, don’t be afraid to confide in those two. I’m sure if the roles were reversed, you’d do the same for them.” 

“I’d do absolutely anything for them.” 

“Exactly. So don’t be afraid to embrace the love in your life. You deserve that. And that’s exactly what Rafael would want for you.” 

You throw your arms around your uncle and sob into his shoulder. 

You and your uncle continue to talk for a while until you realize that it’s nearly midnight. Like your friends, he offers to stay the night in case you need him. But you know his flight home was only in a few short hours, so you insist that he go back to his hotel to get a bit of sleep before he needs to leave for the airport. 

It took everything in you not to beg him to stay, but you couldn’t bear troubling him further. And you longed to finally have some time to yourself, so you put on a brave face.  

After your many assurances that you would take care of yourself better, you walk him to your front door. When you open it up, you both notice a simple brown box with a thin bow placed on top of your doormat. You pick it up, noticing how light it feels in your hands. 

“What is this?” You mutter. 

“You got a package?” Your uncle asks, looking at the box. 

“No… I didn’t order anything.” 

“Strange. Maybe your friends Dina and Jesse left it for you.” He offers. 

“I… I guess,” You frown. “Although, I don’t really know why they wouldn’t just give it to me when they were here earlier.” 

“Hmm, that’s true,” He hums, squinting his eyes at it. “A secret admirer, perhaps?” 

“Ha ha, Uncle. Very funny.” 

You give him an amused grimace before untying the bow and removing the lid. You gasp as you recognize what it contains. 

“Oh…” 

You drop the box and embrace its previous contents. 

“My Barbie Bear…” 

author's notes:

thank y'all so much for you patience waiting for this new chapter to come out. i literally wrote like, half of this while in the psych ward, and that was all the way in decemeber sldkfjlsdk

tbh i meant this chapter to be a lot shorter than it turned out to be but lskdjfs more content for y'all ig!

reader's first words after waking up is inspired by me saying, "i need to poop so bad" when the doctors were busy working on me in the emergency room lmaoooo

silver lining of me being in the icu back in december is being able to describe it in detail in this chapter hehe. being in the icu suuuuucked but mostly cause it was boring and cold and i wasn't allowed to get up to pee!!!

the nurse yoojin is named after one of my nurses while i was in the hospital. i loveddddd her, she was such a sweetheart and it made me so happy whenever she was assigned to me. i was rewatching arcane while i was in the hospital, and she saw and asked me about it, and then we gabbed about the show and league of legends (cause she religiously plays the game but hasn't watched arcane yet), and i eventually convinced her to actually watch the show heeeheee

reader’s uncle saying he sees reader as his own is what uncle iroh says to zuko in atla, fun little easter egg heehee (you know me and my love for easter eggs)

reader greeting tara on the phone as satan was how i first greeted my best friend when i was finally able to call her through the public phone in the psych ward (hi rhi LOL)

pink gold peach is my main in mario kart lol

reader's professors mentioned are all named after old professors from my former college's theatre department (rip dennis, miss you always ❤️)

reader’s uncle telling her “we make a place for him in our hearts” in regards to rafael is what tara in buffy the vampire slayer says to dawn when their mom dies (can you tell i love btvs)

working on the next chapter asap, lmk what you think of this chapter in the meantime!

also i made an ao3, so if you wanna read on there too, check it out!

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#nobody compares to you series #ellie williams #dealer!ellie #ellie x reader #ellie x you #ellie x y/n #the last of us #tlou #the last of us part 2 #tlou2 #ellie fanfiction #belle speaks #belle writes #Spotify

[k0dzukeiji]

𝐋𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐜𝐚𝐮𝐬𝐞 - 𝐒𝐮𝐧𝐚 𝐑𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐨

read pt 2 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞

synopsis: you tried to warn him and he didn’t listen. that not only costed him a healthy relationship, but your friendship as well.

genre: angst, friends>nobodies

warnings: cursing, toxic relationship, friend breakups, fighting, suna is an asshole, reader has a crush on suna, regret, made up character is also a bitch, mentions of hell, NOT PROOF READ, PLEASE EXCUSD ANY MISTAKES OR TYPOS (i never proof read), mentions of vomit, probably ooc

wc: 3,220 (sleep deprived me really said 1k+ 💀)

taglist: @hissy-fit18 @ilovejujitsukaisen @misasdeathwish

a/n: I don’t know how I feel about this, kinda sucky but its not horrible considering i wrote it in 2 days without any prep

also imma just complain cause i kept switching to another keyboard while writing this and it was a pain in my ass

•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•

You and Suna, Rin to you, have been best friends since diapers. The two of you did EVERYTHING together, you even moved with him to Hyogo after he got scouted. You and him were inseparable; Keyword were.

It all started when he met Sato Rei a beautiful girl with an ugly personality. He almost immediately warmed up to her and though you should’ve been happy, you weren’t. It’s not that you were unhappy that he was friends with another girl, never would you be unhappy about that. It’s about this specific girl. Rei was known to be the campus playgirl, but that didn’t bother Suna. You had no idea what Rei’s intentions were so you were tryin x g to stay positive, but you couldn’t ignore that gut feeling that was telling you this wasn’t going to end well.

Over time, Suna and Rei grew closer and he admitted to you that he has a crush on her and pleaded you to help him ask her out. Hesitantly, you agreed but immediately regretted it. I mean who helps set up their best friend with a literal snake? And especially when you’ve had a massive crush on him since the 5th grade.

About 3 months after their meeting, he finally asked her out and to nobodies surprise, she said yes. Despite your aching heart, you were happy that Suna found someone, even if that person wasn’t you. Your mother and Suna’s had always thought that the two of you were going to end up together but now that doesn’t seem like the case.

This all took place about 6 months ago. Ever since the two started dating, Suna didn’t talk to you as often. He didn’t make plans with you, he never came over to your house anymore and he hardly ever talked to anyone except for Rei. You rarely ever got to talk to him except for at volleyball for maybe 10 minutes until Rei would shoot daggers at you through her eyes at come drag him away. No matter where he was, she would be there and no one was allowed to talk to him.

She was also very jealous, whenever you would say hi to Suna you swore you could see the veins in her forehead popping out. You were trying your best to maintain your friendship while still being mindful that you may be making Rei uncomfortable, but no matter how hard you tried she always found something to complain about; this resulted in you and Suna not even greeting each other in the school hallway because apparently you were “making a pass” at him

Eventually, you and the rest of the team grew annoyed with this but you couldn’t say anything, Rei was every where. You couldn’t help but not like her, she lives up to her reputation.

Those 6 months felt like hell to you. You missed your best friend, you missed seeing him everyday, you just missed his presence. You and him were practically attached at the hip, when the two of you moved you had no one else to rely on but each other, so for him to suddenly not be available was really hard on you. However, the holidays were nearing and that meant winter break. Winter break means you and Suna finally get to go back to your home prefecture, which just so happens to be three hours away, meaning Rei can’t go.

Of course when Rei found this out she was extremely unhappy, but there was nothing she could do. Her parents wouldn’t let her go and your families were awaiting yours and Suna’s return. She tried everything to convince her parents to let her go, but they ultimately said no. This lead to her having a conversation with you before break started.

(this took place like 2 weeks ago)

It went a little bit like this:

“What the fuck is wrong with you (L/N)? You really think you can just take my boyfriend away from me? What is your issue?” She snarled at you, her eyes dark and full of jealousy.

“Sato I’m not trying to take him away, we’re not from this prefecture and our families want us home for the holidays” You explained calmly as she rolled her eyes

“Oh as if! Cut the excuse (L/N)! I know what you’re planning and it’s not gonna work.” She accused you. What would you even be planning?

“I’m not planning anything..?” You say, more of a question than a statement and you watch her roll her stupid dumb pretty eyes.

“Just stay away from Rintaro. He wants nothing to do with you.” She said as she turned away, her long brown hair swaying as she walked.

To say you were annoyed would be an understatement. Who was she to say what Suna wants and what he doesn’t? Yeah she’s his girlfriend but they haven’t even known each other for a full year. You were beyond tired of this and you badly just wanted to go home where things would be normal.

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

You couldn’t help but smile in relief when you saw Suna walking towards you at the train station without the raging Rei behind him. As he walked towards you, you noticed a small smile growing on his tired features. It wasn’t a noticeable smile, it wasn’t one that just anyone would notice, it was one that you and only you could detect.

On the train ride home, everything finally felt like it went back to normal. The two of you were able to talk freely just like you used to, it felt nice. When the two of you arrived at Suna’s houss, it felt even better. Being around your families reminded you of the time before the two of you moved to Hyogo, everything was good, everyone was happy, up until now.

At dinner Suna’s mother brought up Rei and as Suna began to talk about her you went silent, you weren’t sure what to say. You just knew what not to say, it was something along the lines of:

“Yeah but Auntie did Rin here ever mention that his girlfriend is a complete snake?”

“(Name) honey, is something the matter?” Suna’s mother soon brought you out of your thoughts.

“It’s nothing Auntie — the train ride just left me a bit tired is all.” You laughed a fake laugh which caused Suna to squint his eyes at you. You were hoping no one would notice, but your best friend being the observant man he is, he just had to notice.

“Ah is that so? Well it is a bit late and we’re all done eating. Rintaro can you do us a favor and walk (Name) home?” His mother said in a sweet tone. Your house wasn’t far, just down the street. You didn’t need to be walked home, but you appreciated her caring for you.

“I will, I’ll just use the bathroom first.” He said nonchalantly as he pushed in his chair with his hip and made his way to the bathroom upstairs.

His mother waited a minute until she heard the bathroom door close. She could tell something was off with you. You hardly ever reacted like that, it seemed as if you had a million thoughts rushing through your head.

“Now then tell me dear, what is this Rei girl actually like?” She asks dead serious as she makes eye contact with you.

“What do you mean Auntie..?” You knew exactly what she meant, you just didn’t want to answer out of fear of Rin hearing.

“You know what I mean dear, what do you think of the two of them? Are they right for each other?”

“Honestly? No, I don’t think so. They’re — they’re too complicated and Rei is too… Controlling? I don’t know how to tell Rin though, I’m not sure how he’d react.” You nearly began to rant. You probably would’ve had his mother not calmed you down.

“Relax, it’s okay. I know how you feel about my son, dear. I can tell you like him, if you think this relationship isn’t right for him you should tell him. He’s your best friend, he’ll understand.” She smiled as she squeezed your hands in hers. You couldn’t help but smile back. Suna’s mother always felt like a second mother to you, and you couldn’t help but love her for supporting your feelings for Suna.

“Okay. I’ll talk to him on the way home.” You said as she nodded in satisfaction. If his mother thinks it’ll work, what could go wrong?

“(Name) you ready to go?” Suna said suddenly as he approached the two of you with a tired look on his face, more tired looking than usual. He also took a bit longer than usual… Could it have been Rei? No, that’s not any of your business.

“Yeah let’s go” Hugging his mother goodbye, the two of you made your way out the door and towards your house. The walk was silent for a bit until you decided to finally talk to Suna.

“Hey Rin?” You looked up at him as he looked back at you

“Hm?” He hummed back in response.

“Can I ask you something? About Rei..?” The blocker tensed up at this, why did you want to talk about Rei? You hardly ever talked about her.

“What is it?”

“I just… I don’t know if she’s right for you.” You curse at yourself immediately once you finish your sentence. You knew you shouldn’t have worded it like that but it just came out like word vomit.

“Excuse me?” He sounded offended, rightly so though.

“Shit— I’m sorry Rin I didn’t mean it like that” Your eyes went wide at his tone, you immediately try to apologize but he just shuts it down.

“What is that supposed to mean, (Name)This is my relationship, not yours.”

“I know that I’m just trying to warn you—“

“Warn me about what? Fucking hell (Name! you’re like a toddler, you don’t know when to leave me alone. Can you just butt out of my business for once?”

“Butt out? Rin I’m just trying to help you! I don’t think you’ve noticed, but Rei has been so controlling of you! We miss you, the team misses you, I miss you Rin. I just want my best friend back!”

“Yeah, butt out. I want you to mind your own fucking business. So what if you think Rei is controlling? Whether you like it or not Rei is my girlfriend, she’s my top priority. So I’m sorry if I’m not paying attention to you like I used to but I actually have a life.” Ouch. His words stung like salt on an open wound. He knew how to hit you where it hurt.

“Rin that’s not all I’m trying to say.”

“Oh my god (Name) what part of butt out do you not understand? You’re so fucking annoying. I’m sorry that no one wants you but just cause no one wants you doesn’t mean that you have to come and mess with my relationship! What Rei and I do is none of your concern so I’m sorry if you’re unhappy but you get no say in this.”

“Rin do you hear what I’m saying right now? I’m not saying I should have a say in your relationship, I’m trying to warn you. Please just listen to me, you have no idea what I’ve heard about Rei on campus and—“

“You don’t even know Rei, (Name). You’ve put in no effort into talking to her and now you’re just coming at her for no reason!” He got you at the first part. However he was still partially wrong. You tried talking to her at first, but she turned you down and whenever you’d try she looked as if she was going to murder you so you just stopped trying.

“Oh my god Rin why are you always defending her? She’s not always the victim, y’know what she said to me before we left Hyogo?” He seemed confused so he stayed quiet.

“She told me to stay the fuck away from you cause you want nothing to do with me!” He rolled his eyes at you.

“Oh like hell she did! She wouldn’t do something like that, (Name) you’re just insecure and you’re such a fucking cry baby. Can you just grow up?”

“Grow up? I am growing up, Rin. I’m here trying to be the bigger person and help you but you won’t fucking listen to me!” He only scoffs at you

“I don’t need your help, You’ve never done anything to help me.” That was a lie. He knew it was.

“Shut up Rin. You have no idea what you’re talking about. I have been here since day one, through thick and thin and you’re saying I’ve never helped you? I moved to Hyogo with you so that you wouldn’t be by yourself, I made sure you were healthy and on top of grades, I was always there whenever you needed me.” He knew all of this. He knew how much he owed you but he didn’t want to admit it.

“I didn’t ask you to be there.” He shouldn’t have said that, he knew you were there because you wanted to be, he didn’t have to ask you.

“You didn’t have to! Rin you’re my best friend I would’ve gone through hell and back just to make sure you’re okay! I care about you Rin. All I’m asking of you is for you to listen to what I’m saying. I don’t want to see you hurt.” Your heart was aching and your head was throbbing. This conversation was giving you a migraine.

“Can you shut up? I don’t need you nagging about my relationship when you’ve never even been in one. I get it you care or whatever but I could care less, I said it already but I don’t need your help. Can you just accept the fact that you don’t need to be constantly in my life and you don’t have to be butting around all the time? You say Rei is controlling but do you see yourself? This is why I chose to be with Rei instead of you, she doesn’t always bombard and nag me, she actually— “ This was your breaking point. You could bear to hear him belittle you and compare you to someone you’re nothing alike. He doesn’t even know why he was still talking, its like he can’t control his own mouth.

“You know what? I’m done. I’m not doing this anymore, it’s a lost cause because clearly you don’t want to hear me out! I don’t need you comparing me to her. Just leave me alone Suna.” That’s all you said as you walked away from him. He didn’t think you were being serious when you said that last sentence, he didn’t think this argument was enough to end your friendship, but clearly he had no idea about the impact of his words.

When he returned back to his house, he acted as if everything were normal. The two of you have argued before and he was sure it would go back to normal. He had no idea how wrong he was.

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

School wasn’t the same since.

Some things were the same though, he was still with Rei, you were still a manager. But the main difference, is that you two aren’t friends anymore. He didn’t think you were being serious. He thought that you two would just take a break and then you’d go back to normal, but clearly that wasn’t going to happen. It seemed like you truly had no intent of speaking to him again.

In fact, it’s been 2 months since the two of you last spoke and his relationship was going down hill rapidly. Everyone on campus could tell something was up but no one dared to ask. All they knew is that you and Suna were no longer friends, and it ached his heart knowing that it’s his fault.

He tried texted you, but you never answered simply just leaving him on read.

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

rin: I’m sorry (12/24/12) 11:30 pm

rin: Please pick up(12/25/12) 10:30 am

rin: (Name)?(12/25/12) 10:32 am

rin: Are you okay? (12/25/12) 10:35 am

rin: I know I fucked up just please answer your phone [phone]:39 am

rin: (Name)‼️‼️ (12/25/12) 10:42 am

rin: (Name) if you dont answer the phone. 10:49 am

rin: Yk what fine I’ll leave you alone (12/25/12) 11:13 am

rin: I miss you, I’m sorry. (1/26/13) 12:47 am

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

Suna’s thoughts

“I miss my best friend, but it’s my fault she’s even gone in the first place. I’m sure she hates me, but thats my fault too. I’m sorry (Name)”

Every day he regrets that night. He see’s you in the hallway every day and he can’t help but wish he could just go back in time before he said all of that shit. He feels like a total asshole everyday. He knows for a fact his younger self would have hated him for driving you away. When he sees you, he wants nothing more than you hug you just like he used to. He misses seeing you walking happily around his apartment while you two wait on the food you ordered.

He should’ve listened to you and he knew that. He let his anger get the better of him and he blew up on you.

You warned him and he didn’t listen. He wanted to blame Rei for this, but it wasn’t her fault. It was no one’s fault but his. It’s his fault you don’t want to talk to him anymore and he has no one to blame but himself.

Suna Rintaro is a man of many regrets, but hurting you is his greatest regret.

“I don’t know if she’ll ever want to be friends again. I doubt she does, but I’ll be waiting for her anyway, for as long as it takes.”

Or at least thats what he thinks.

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

(Name)s thoughts

“Even though I miss him, I need to heal first. I’m not ready to face him yet, but there is no way in hell I’d ever throw away our friendship. We just need time. I asked him to leave me alone and he’s learning to respect that.”

He thinks you hate him, but the truth is you could never hate him. Even if you tried you don’t think you’d ever be able to hate him. Yes he hurt you, but before he hurt you he protected you with all he had. When the two of you moved to Hyogo, he would walk you to school every morning and night just to make sure you were safe. You still see his messages, you haven’t blocked him, and yes it seems cruel but you just need time to heal. You told him not to talk to you again, but you know you’ll come back. Not any time soon, but when the time is right. It won’t be the same as it used to be, but you’d never leave him alone.

You’re upset he didn’t listen to you, but it taught him a lesson. Plus it’s only your second year of high school, high school isn’t forever. One fight isn’t enough to end your 16 years of friendship, in a few years it’ll only be an old wound that healed and turned into a scar.

You miss him just as much as he misses you, but you are waiting patiently for the right time for you to come back but for now, the two of you need time apart to heal.

“He has nothing to worry about, he’s my best friend and no one will ever take that place from him”

Fin~

•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•

a/n: thinking about making a part 2 with a happy ending

#arins works✒️ #haikyuu #haikyuu angst #haikyuu drabbles #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu x reader #haikyu x reader #haikyuu!! #suna rintarou #suna x reader #suna rintaro x reader #suna rintaro x y/n #suna rintaro haikyuu #suna rintaro x you #suna rintaro fic #suna angst #hq suna #suna rintarō #suna rintaro angst

[yok00k]

coming down

pairing: non-idoloc! x idol!jk

genre: angst

“i always want you when i’m coming down”

sypnosis: although you sleep next to jungkook every single night, it feels like you’re million miles away from him.

wordcount: around 1,000

warning: in 1st pov, it’s a little sad (for me), open ended ending, one sided love, allusion of cheating, oc’s world revolves around jk (don’t be like her)(lowkey im her), toxic relationship, lack of communication

author’s note: this did not go as I initially planned help-_- i was gonna make light jealousy oc/jk drabble idk how I ended up with this. i hope yall sob w/ me or lmk ur thoughts

an absolute ideal.

his performance. the concept. the way he sang his new released songs flawlessly. how smooth his dancing movements were. how the stage composition and development were so sumptuous.

and most importantly, how romantic the live performance was, given the fact that there was an actress involved in the show.

calling Jungkook an amazing artist would be an understatement. He’s creative, unique, and original in his masterpieces. Everything he does, no matter what, is just mesmerizing and astounding. He’s indeed a true performer.

Jungkook dedicated several months to work on his solo album. The time and effort he had put to his work is just admirable. On most days, he stays up late, trying to come up with so many possible ideas and options he can add on his album.

and I was there by his side. I chose to be.

I was there, waiting for him to come home every single night, or usually midnight, in our noiseless living room, wrapped with a thick blanket and loneliness. He would arrive home, but as night by night goes, I was accompanied by nothing but solitude. it feels like it’s taking over me.

I was there, in bad days where Jungkook is focusing on the negatives and having doubts in himself. Days where his standards for himself weren’t being met. both of my shoulders were closely next to him if he needed something to lean into. Reminding him that it’s okay and he’s doing wonderful.

I was there, even in times when he didn't want or need me to be there. times where he just wanted to be by his own with no distraction. but here I am, continuously showing him my undying love and support for him.

I chose to stay there. on nights where he stopped saying “i love you” back before going to dreamland. I hugged him closer as I convinced myself to believe that he just didn’t feel like saying those three words at those moment because of all the stress he undergoes through day to day.

I gave all of myself, I’ve done my part as his other half. Just like how Jungkook produces his works, I poured all my love and time to him, leaving not a thing for myself. It sounds foolish, but that’s just how I love

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

we’re both lying on the massive bed, only inches apart from one another’s body yet it feels like he’s millions of miles away from me as I stare at his cold, broad back that’s facing me.

I’ve got to used to this upsetting scenario at this point but that doesn’t mean it hurt less.

The whole bedroom feels chilly. I’m freezing, solely due to the fact that his warm arms weren’t wrapped around me like they used to be. as i’m not hearing his snores, I know that he’s still awake

“Do you still love me?” I manage to ask out loud and clear, immediately regretting the words that came out of my mouth even though it’s simply an inquiry.

a question that’s been going around my head for quite some time now. a question that i’m afraid to know the answer to because his response might be the response my heart doesn’t wish to hear or else it will shatter into millions of pieces.

my hope for an answer rapidly decreased as seconds went by filled with silence. The absence of noise that surrounded me was deafening; abundantly mocked the emotions I was feeling at the moment, screaming at me that my feelings didn't matter.

It's alright.

I did nothing but wipe the single tear that uncontrollably rolled down my cheek.

it’s stupid. I should’ve just kept it to myself. maybe that would be less embarrassing. less problematic. less painful than I was feeling minutes ago.

I turned my back against his as I accepted my defeat. maybe I’m just tired. maybe drifting to sleep will make me feel okay although I know deep inside that I won’t take the pain away. this is not some type of feeling i’m unfamiliar with to begin with.

I shut my eyes, as I try to put myself to sleep. but in that process, i felt his body moving, turning around, and finally snakes his warm arms around me. a pair of arms, the same ones I longed for so many nights.

“____, why would you ask that?” he giggly asked, sounding like he just heard a silly question. as if i was just being clingy and wanted some piece of his attention.

‘because i don’t feel like you love me anymore’

the man waited for a response, waiting to see if I was just fooling around or that was really genuine. the noiselessness, just like all times, answers the question we both interrogate to each other.

the heavy feelings just got worse, if not heavier. even so when he talks more. “i won’t be laying next to you if i wasn’t.” as if that makes me feel better.

indeed, he’s physically here by my side yet distant. Jungkook is so far off that I’ve lost him. numbness was all I felt as I heard his words. I couldn’t be more content now that I have my answers.

his indirect answer to a ‘yes’ or ‘no’ question is enough for me to know where we stand.

I can’t help but to turn my body to face him, just to stare at his doe eyes that I easily get lost in due to the fact that they hold thousands of stars, if not a whole world in them.

regretfully, my eyes should’ve just maintained contact with doe-like eyelids. but rather, they drop their focus on the side of his neck, detecting a foreign lipstick shade that he might have forgotten to wipe off. a shade that will be tattooed in my brain and will forever hate.

Inhale. Exhale. I chose to shrug it off, bringing my attention back to his worn out face.

“I love you” truthfully and whole-heartedly confessed to him once more just like I always do. although this was a little bit different because I don’t expect him to say it back anymore.

and with that in mind, this was also the last night that I will to express my love for him.

#jungkook fanfiction #jungkook fic #jungkook imagine #jungkook x reader #jungkookxreader #jungkook angst #jungkook ff #jjk angst #bts angst #bts ff #jeon jk #jungkook #bts jk #angst #emocore

[kth1fics]

Lucky, Lucky Girl (M) | JJK

Lucky, Lucky Girl

⟶ Pairing: Jungkook x Female Reader ⟶ Genre: Roommates AU, Smut, 18+ ⟶ WC: 6.1k+ ⟶ Warnings: pwp, implied drunken state, alcohol, implied situationship, neck kisses, oral (m), making-out, choking, clit pinched once, fingering (f), finger sucking (f & m), palming (m), brief unprotected sex, etc ⟶ Beta: @jeonjcngkook​ // thank you so much for dealing with my massive short time frames :( i love you, sav ⟶ Summary: The joy of Jungkook having a grand ol’ time with his own personal karaoke night causes you, his roommate, to grow more and more annoyed. ⟶ Author’s Note: Mmm, yeah. Jungkook’s back to back Weverse lives – how ‘bout that? ⟶ Song Recommendation: Unholy ft Kim Petras by Sam Smith

Masterlist ◈ Mail Box ◈ AO3 ◈ Ko-Fi

“Dirty, dirty boy!”

“Not again…” you sigh. Blinking stunned as your head rests against the fluff of your pillow.

“You know everyone is talking on the scene!”

You try not to listen intently. But with the dead of the night, where no sounds are supposed to be made, you cannot help but hear every single breathy note your roommate sings. Voice amplified with the help of an expensive karaoke microphone, synced with the slight off-tune beats that play on the device in the living room.

“I hear them whispering ‘bout the places that you’ve been!”

Your brows furrow with remorse as your hands come to clamp over your ears. Why had you thought many moons ago that buying him this damn machine would be such a lovely gift? You thought he could never do such a thing like this. Singing hours on end into the middle of the night, by himself, was never a thought that crossed your mind when you purchased your roommate a wireless karaoke machine for his birthday.

Tonight is the first time you truly regret your choice of gift giving.

“And how you don’t know how to keep your business clean!”

“Jungkook!” You shout out in agony. Hoping the man hears you through the walls of your shared apartment complex. Belching out a stern yell should surely remind him of your earlier request. “I told you two hours ago to keep it down!”

To your own judgment, you realize that Jungkook either must have not heard you or chooses to ignore you as his voice continues to sing the pop-ish, R&B song Unholy.

“Mummy don’t know –”

“Jungkook, I swear to God!” 

You stand up from your bed, tossing your blankets and pillows elsewhere as you stomp toward your closed door with haste. The twist of the knob is loud as your anger seeps into your actions, the swing of your door is just as abrupt. Your feet take you directly to the living room, padding down the hallway until blinking lights from the television shine in your eyes. Empty beer cans decorate the coffee table, some even knocked over and most definitely leaving stains on the wooden top. A bowl of snacks rests nearly untouched, but the ceramic maroon plate does have leftover crumbs of a breaded food.

Jungkook is found lounging back into the couch, microphone dangling above his head as he sings into it. Black luscious and fluffy locks, that barely touch shoulder length, fall beautifully with the way his head tilts onto the back of the couch. Dark clothes suit him best, probably because you’ve hardly ever seen him wear any other shade. You can tell just by the choice of shirt and long pants that he’s done nothing but wear the most comfortable attire for his karaoke night.

His eyes must be tired considering he wears his glasses, but underneath you can see how his eyes remain close as he gushes the lyrics like it’s his job. Knowing them word for word and with the perfect tone and tune.

“Two hours!” You yell, making your position in the living room more noticeable. You stand between the television and him, anger fuming within you. Steam could fly out your ears if that were possible. “Two damn hours and you’re still singing!”

You’re matched with a puzzled look when Jungkook finally opens his eyes. He peers down between the glass of his eyewear, trying to understand if you’re really in front of him or if he’s imagining it. The song continues to play as Jungkook lacks reciting the rest of the lyrics, you’re not sure if you could handle hearing him sing it for a third time this evening.

“What?” His lips pout as his nose scrunches and you wish to wipe the undeniable cuteness from it. He knows he can get away with such a gesture. “What happened?”

“I asked you two hours ago,” you sigh, stress pouring off of your face. He’s taken your sleep and little bit of patience left of your day. You can physically feel yourself building up to explode completely. “Please, stop it. Or at least do something else. Less noisy, preferably.” 

Jungkook does nothing but smirk. The microphone falls from his hand to the cushion of the couch as he leans up in a better seating position, but chooses to bob his head to the beat of the song. Moving his arms just like how the dance goes in the music video. He mumbles the lyrics to himself as the song is finishing up, dragging his pointer finger down from his forehead to his lips as he purposely, and most definitely, taunts you with his absence of attention. Preferring to rock out to the rest of the song, on his own agenda as he turns a deaf ear to you once more. There’s no way he is completely obliterated right now, you’ve seen that side of him more than once – he’s a complete mess when it happens. But here, right now, you know Jungkook is drunkenly tilting on a tipsy seesaw. Well aware of his actions.

“Are you serious?”

He bellows a laugh, eyes crinkling in the corners with happiness as he feeds off of your agitated energy. “I’m bored. This is entertaining me,” he points to the television and microphone. “I’m quite good at it.”

“Jungkook, it’s been hours,” you drawl as you feel the emotions of your anger prick at your eyes. Your chest rises and falls with a heavy exhale, if only he could comprehend how fatigued you are. “You’re lucky we don’t have neighbors because the police would have been knocking on our front door by now.”

“Come and join me,” he insists as he reaches for a thick glass. It’s the one he keeps in the freezer; the mechanism inside the walls of the cup keeps the liquid it holds cold for longer. “I have a whole other pack in the fridge or there’s liquor in the cupboard if you prefer that instead.”

“No!” You scoff, “That’s not what I want. How are you so awake right now?”

Jungkook raises his beer with an expectant look to his face, raising an eyebrow for you to catch the hint. “Alcohol keeps me up longer,” he says with a gleaming smile. “How are you ‘so awake’?” He parrots your words before he takes a large sip of his chilled beer. Enjoying the taste that rolls across his tongue and down his throat.

“You!” you exhale with a growl. A warning if anything. The word comes off like acid, meant to burn and brand the man sitting in front of you.

It doesn’t phase him how you wish it could. Your roommate just sits there minding his own business as he grabs the remote to shuffle through the next list of songs. Seeking to add another reason that will make you even more mad.

“Rainism? Do I Wanna Know? How about some Bieber?”

Even with your body covering up a portion of the screen, he still manages to know the layout and how to direct the cursor around. You can hear the annoying dings of movement as he flicks through the options, the soft sounds escalating louder the more you concentrate and focus on them. Giving those noises more energy than they originate. Just like how one watches a clock tick it's seconds away and the clicking snaps closer to an unavoidable thunderous tone.

With all your vexation boiling, your irritation allows you to act impulsively. Your fingers find the on/off switch to the television immediately, clicking it off to a blank screen. Jungkook scrambles to find the correct remote device to turn it back on, but you’re quicker than that. Smarter than that. To stop any further attempts, you even go all the way to unplugging the devices from the outlet directly attached to the wall.

“Y/n!” Jungkook whines. He exaggerates further with a click of his tongue to the roof of his mouth.

“No!” You cut him off, “I have had enough.”

You stand your ground. This is a shared apartment after all but Jungkook should respect the decency of a good night's rest. Just because he didn’t have a day like you did doesn’t mean he forgets to consider how you may feel with his actions. Usually he’s very good, half the time he’s always out with friends or work. So an occurrence like this is far beyond rare. But you can’t excuse him for spending hours into the dead of night keeping it alive with loud music and his melodic voice.

Just as you feel like you’ve once, the taste of victory on the tip of your tongue, you immediately pull back when you see Jungkook stand from the couch. The gesture isn’t casual, it’s fast. Like lightning, he has jolted from his place and speeds toward you.

To catch you and trap you.

“Come here!” He shouts behind you with a giggle as he chases you back down the hall. You race toward your room, hoping to shut him out quickly. 

You’ve stirred the pot by cutting his fun short and you should know Jungkook sees your anger as cute. But there is no time for foolish playful antics. You desperately want to rest, knock out and sleep in.

“Go to bed!” You shout over your shoulder. When your eyes catch a glance of how close he’s gotten to you, the strike of panic screams throughout your entire body. Even a yelp escapes your throat involuntarily.

His hand grips on the back of your shirt just as he pulls you like a fish on a wire. It’s quick, but somehow Jungkook manages to yank you straight into his hard frame before he pins you against the hallway wall. Right next to your bedroom door.

“Ow!” You hurt from the way one of your elbows bangs against the drywall behind you. You push back on Jungkook’s hands, fighting his dominance as he attempts to hold your arms back. 

Unconsciously, Jungkook leans in with each word he speaks, smiling to himself as his teeth snag onto the lip ring adorning his right bottom lip. “I’m not sorry.” Something switches within him. Eyes now peering down at your parted lips, two desirable colored pieces of flesh, he blinks silently with no other words. Jungkook finds himself stuck staring at them, how they’re parted so pretty by the gasp that leaves your lips. 

You can feel the radiation of his heated gaze; a burning sensation that you cannot tell is fueled by rage or something else. The sudden fiery ambiance Jungkook’s body and demeanor gives off is enough to set a forest ablaze. Smothering, scorching. The intensity of his concentrated stare heats you up from within, a prickling spark that shouldn’t be tampered with. 

“J-Jungkook?” You blink, heartbeat running laps in your chest. Your mind runs rampage like gazelles in the wild. Expanding to new, dangerous horizons. “This is bad.” The hairs on the back of your neck stand tall as a shiver runs down the base of your spine.

“Why does bad sound so good?” His warm breath fans over your ear, forcing goosebumps to dance across your skin. Jungkook slides himself closer, confessing his body to feel something more as he slithers his arms around your back as he presses you against the wall. “Can you explain that?”

“Jungkook, you’re drunk.” You try to reason with him. Maybe he isn’t in his right state of mind. You recall the lingering beer cans in the living room, surely he’s been the only one drinking them. 

Or are you trying to reason with yourself?

You’re really trying to not take advantage of this situation – one you didn’t foresee yourself getting into. Because you honestly just wished for peace and quiet. This happens only once in a while. Something neither one of you are proud about. There’s been talks, endless rambling and a vicious cycle of repetitive excuses. It’s not wise to ‘fuck around and find out’ with a roommate who need to hold their own, pay for their own expenses and be responsible. If someone gets too comfortable… they could be caught slipping. Forgetting all of these rules and abusing the privilege of the other to take care of them. 

Neither one of you want that. The two of you are far too comfortable being sturdy with your own ‘singleness’. The idea of stripping that freedom from you makes you cringe.

But you cannot deny that ready feeling, random spark of desire, whenever Jungkook gives you that certain look. Perhaps it’s because you have tasted what he offers. How it still can creep up and remind you how delicious he is when you’re craving that flavor.

“I’m not drunk. I'm loose. There’s a difference.” Huffing a laugh, he tickles the shell of your ear with his breath. “If you want me to go to bed so badly, bring me to yours.” Jungkook’s nose nudges along the length of your neck, drinking in the faint smell of you. “I can’t promise I’ll stay quiet though.”

His hands are warm as you feel them press against your back, hugging you tight against him. You gulp as memories flash across your brain like an old film reel. Only the best moments blasting loud in your mind, reminding you of times before. How it felt. How he is with you.

Your hands balled into fists with your temptations playing in the front of your mind. All thoughts, rational or not, dissipate as you feel the slightest touch of Jungkook’s lips stoking the skin of your neck, skimming over the areas that make you swoon. You can’t blame the tiredness you once felt now diminish and grow with glimmers of excitement. Burning like a wick.

“We can’t do this again,” you remind him as your voice falters to a mouse-like whisper.

“So this will be the last time,” Jungkook grinds his pelvis into you, pulling you against him in the same motion. You feel it, the evidence of his cock hardened and ready to press into you. “We can fuck around one more time,” he kisses your neck with delicacy, “And we’ll never have to talk about it again.”

“Was this your plan all along?” You push your chest into him for emphasis. “Annoy me so you could do this?”

“Hasn’t it always been like this?” He chuckles with his deep voice seeping out. “I’m a lot to handle and you get fed up with it. In return I shut you up.”

Jungkook doesn’t hesitate with his next move, slotting his leg between yours as he pins you against the wall. He latches his mouth onto your neck as his hands roam your body, squeezing every muscle and curve he can reach. He releases one of your hands in favor of raising one of your legs around his waist, using the angle to pin you even more.

You move quickly with the freedom of your one limb, running your hand straight to the back of Jungkook’s black thick hair and gripping a fist full. “You’re so obnoxious,” you squeal as he retaliates with a bite to your neck. Teeth nipping harder than you expect, drawing soreness to the spot the moment he releases your skin.  

He leans his head back enough to look at your face, a smug grin dressing his face as his fringe hides his glasses that protect his eyes. Jungkook doesn’t look into your eyes, he’s already mapping out his plan of assault with his mouth as he leers at your lips again. He pulls your leg higher as he moves in, hungrily kissing you with deep passion and thirst. You pull him equally with the back of his neck, yanking him forward to battle his tongue with yours.

An audible growl rumbles through Jungkook’s chest. Euphoric exhilarations trickle all over your skin. Jungkook’s reckless need to touch every inch of you sets a subtle ache in your core, growing it each passing second. Kisses become rougher, more desperate, as you share air between another. His touch burns you in the most errotic way, but you’ll never admit that to his face.

Jungkook continues to pull your leg into him just so he can angle his pelvis into you, prodding his clothed covered cock between the junction of your thighs. Teasing a blissful promise to you, letting you know how he wants to dive right into your walls and stretch you open. Your hand rummages through his roots, your other still pinned against the wall with Jungkook’s.

“Bed,” he murmurs against your wet lips. 

He sucks on your tongue before letting his teeth scrap softly against it as he pulls back. His body with yours, you two fumble through your bedroom doorway and land straight onto your mattress. 

You’re not normally stripping off your clothes this fast, but with Jungkook it’s different. Everything is impulsive and needy. There are no thoughts, only consequences and actions. The darkness shrouds the two of you, giving you more courage to do things without thought. Whereas Jungkook has already got a bit of liquid courage yet he is very self-aware of what he’s doing right now. You pull Jungkook down with you, a new instinct – a drive – taking hold of you.

His knees dig into the bed as Jungkook lifts his shirt over and off his body after removing yours. Jungkook’s muscles flex over another in the motion of his arms pulling the material up, revealing more of his toned, tanned, and inked skin to your eyes. A sight you secretly miss seeing. His body is just as you remembered; well-defined pectorals, large bulking biceps, a rippling line of tight abdominal muscles that tighten over his stomach, even the deadly outline of a v-line dipping dangerously below the hem of his pants.

It takes you a moment to recollect yourself from gawking at him. Eyes wide like saucers, trying to etch every single detail of his body so you can think of him later when you’re left with just a battery operated toy between your legs. Numberless lines of art, mainly black but some pretty colors too, decorate the entire expanse of his right arm. Shoulder all the way to the digits of his hand. His physique is well-kept, you know this man must take care of himself. Each edge, each angle of his compliments Jungkook perfectly. You couldn’t imagine him any different. 

Jungkook catches your eyes, implicitly feeding into his ego. He smirks that annoying, nearly cocky, smile that flashes his white teeth as his dark locks dangle in front of his face. He disposes his glasses to a nearby table, out of the way of any reckless behavior.

His eyes roam your figure, areas of skin he wants to touch and violate if you give him the chance.

“You’re right, you know.” You hear him mumble as his hands aimlessly glide across your front, running themselves over your chest before they cup each of your breasts. He experiments with the tender flesh of your tits, squeezing and releasing them with his control. “This is bad. It’s dangerous how much I think about fucking you. Then you let me do it,” he laughs. His tattooed arm raises as his hand runs through his hair, fingering the dark strands and curling a few behind his ear. 

He drags his other hand down his front, making sure you watch each tentative movement as he runs his fingers over his body in front of you. They tantalize you, spellbind you into watching every second as he descends down to his lower region. Cuffing his bulge over the loose dark material of his pants and applying pressure to relieve some tension. He grips the sides of his cock, outlining the length as he runs the length of his shaft.

Jungkook’s tongue swipes out to lick his lips before sucking the bottom one in, snagging that sexy lip ring in between his teeth as he softly jerks himself through his clothes. His eyes, hooded and laced with dangerous lust, stare down at yours. The most subtle, audible, groan escapes through his teeth and you swear you lost every last ounce of sanity you have left for the night. Your cunt clenches with eagerness as the sound, as whiny and beautiful it sounds coming from him, hits your core like a train on impact. What you would do for more of those sounds…

Jungkook repeats the process right in front of your very eyes, gradually fisting himself even more until he can’t handle it much more himself. 

“Holy shit –” you speak breathlessly. Unable to fathom the scene being played out. You lean up with a surge, a power within you of wanting to please this man. Hands gripping the sides of his dainty waist, right where his hip bones poke out, and you run your nails over them in your pursuit to free his cock. “Get naked too,” you command as you hook your fingers around his waistband. 

Your fervor is impressive, making you feel like you’re doing justice while you’re truly doing something unholy. You drag his pants down his thighs, watching the way his cock springs out with happiness. The shine over his dripping cockhead welcomes you, affirms to you how stressed it must be to be touched by you. Aching to be pleased. His girth always makes you coyly smile; he radiates such energy, of course he has a package to match it. 

Jungkook is solid, cock pulsing by your touch. Just palming him alone makes your core tighten, makes the dirty mind of yours wander further into the abyss of sultry. You can feel yourself leaking arousal on yourself.

“You gonna put those pretty lips around me?” You feel the way Jungkook’s fingers curl around your jaw to tilt your head toward him. His thumb runs across your lips, slowly slotting itself between them and pushing past your teeth. 

With pleading eyes, you blink and nod at him. You suck on his thumb to show him what he has to look forward to, what you’re about to give him. You’re ready to do whatever it takes to make this man moan.

Your fist grips Jungkook’s dick, cautiously squeezing him as you flick your wrist up and down. Moving your body, you level your head to his pelvis after his release of your jaw. You bend your back as sexy as you imagine it can look as you keep your ass hoisted high. Leaning in, you plant a sweet kiss to his swollen tip, tasting the first moments of his salty secretions. It’s the first indication of Jungkook losing his breath as you hear a shuttered exhale.

You need more.

Your tongue lavished over the slit of his cockhead, parting the small piece to lap up every piece of precum that dares to drip carelessly from him.

“Fuck,” you hear the narrow whisper from above. His nose blows out a puff of hot air.

You ease your head down, immersing yourself on his rock hard cock. Tasting the flavor of his skin on your tongue as you wet the entire length with your saliva. Your lips tighten around him as you dip your head, bopping it down and up teasingly, wanting to taste every desirable inch of his blessed cock. You swivel and twist your tongue underneath as you suck, hard. Taking initiative to stroke what you can’t fit comfortably… for now.

“Fuck, Y/n!” Jungkook groans with an open mouth. Jaw slacking as his hips softly roll with the pace you set. You feel his hand skirt around your head, pulling pieces of your hair so he can view the way your cheeks hollow around him. “Fuck, yes. Just like that,” he hums with a tender whine. “You do it so fuckin’ well.”

Jungkook continues to whisper praises as his hips beg to thrust harder. Words of motivation help carry you to continue bobbing your head along his shaft, wanting him in deeper. So far enough to take your breath completely away from you. Your muffle moans vibrate on his cock, you can feel it twitch from time to time. 

“Yeah, yeah…” 

And now you hear Jungkook’s voice transition from his normal tone to that melodic tune. The one where you can hear it laced in whenever he sings his heart out. The noise you hear nearly all night long, agonizing you that it isn’t you who got those noises out from him. Until now. Where you suck harder, dip deeper to let his cock slot into your throat and stuff your mouth.

You fight all urges to gag, using every fiber in you to accept his length further past your comfort point. Pressing your nose against the soft plush of his public hairs as you melt into his pelvis, cock sliding as far as it can go into your esophagus.

Jungkook whines with satisfaction. Seeing how cock-hungry you are for him while this overwhelming pleasure sparks every heated nerve ending in his body. “You feel so fucking good,” his breath sounds labored. His fingers find a hold on the back of your head, clutching your hair tightly as he loses composure for a moment to thrust his hips into you.

“Mmf!” You resound a noise that only sounds dirty to him. Bear resemblance to a well pleased cockslut who wants nothing else but his dick. So he repeats the process again, and again… and again. Just to pull out those tasty groans as your nose is crammed against him and mouth prying wider to eat his cock.

Your eyes water at the onslaught, threatening to break past the brims of your eyes. Throat becomes coarse, abused with the intrusion that continues to batter your mouth. It’s relentless, but both you and Jungkook are hooked on the feelings you’re receiving from such an act. A single string of saliva connects your mouth to his throbbing cock when he abruptly pulls you from him, twisting your head to see how fucked-out your face looks.

It’s when you’re able to look up at him as well, seeing the way his brows furrowed as he pays close attention to you. Cheeks moving with the huffs of air he releases from his mouth. Beautiful large brown eyes taken over by his blown out pupils. The hair that hangs off his head makes you want to pull, rake your nails through and comb them. Fist it and twist it.

“Flip over,” he requests while already pulling you with him. His hands manhandle you respectfully, letting your body to turn around and rest on all fours. “So wet already,” he comments as his palms spread open your asschecks, giving him the view of everything from between your cheeks to your gorgeous pussy lips. The sheen of your arousal already slips past your vulva and dresses your inner thighs. “So pretty,” Jungkook collects some with two of his fingers, rolling the slippery mess between his digits before letting the tip of his tongue taste it. “So tasty.”

You edge your ass closer to him as he ghosts his fingers between your thighs. Slide them along the expanse of them before touching your soaked lips.

“Want you to fuck me,” you bend forward, placing your head against the mattress as your arms stretch above you to anchor yourself in place. “I warmed you up good enough. I want you to put that cock in me,” you wiggle your ass in his view. “I’m ready for you, Jungkook. Don’t you see that?” 

He breathlessly laughs, astonished how easy it is for you to be so confident. So prepared to have Jungkook do what he wants. He glides his index finger though your folds, spreading your slickness across all surfaces before hovering over your entrance. Sliding that same finger in, he instantly curls it up against the ridge wall that hides your sensitive spot.

A mewl rips from your throat but you bury your mouth into your blankets below you. You feel the way your pussy eats up Jungkook’s finger, you can’t imagine how it’ll be when he sticks his cock in. Your body wants to lean back more, feel how deep his finger could go if he allows it. But Jungkook denies you that pleasure by pulling away.

“God, I want to fuck you so bad right now. I don’t care to tease right now.”

Static courses though the atmosphere. Your bedroom which serves as a resting comfort place now feels like inside an oven, heated and blazing with lustful passion. 

This is exactly what Jungkook wants. Did he expect his plan to work completely? Absolutely not. Countless times he purposely does things just to get a reaction out of you, to see if you give him that energy. Just to mess with you. 

Does that always lead to this? No. 

Has it happened before though? Yes.

Jungkook maneuvers himself enough to skim his dick along the folds of your sopping pussy. Slowly dipping his tip into the gates of your entrance, easing it in little by little. You feel your legs widen further as he stretches you, until you’re biting back your words. Jungkook hardly submerges his cockhead before you jump up, twisting away from him with a frantic hand out.

“Whoah, wait!” You don’t notice the way your fingers shake with adrenaline as you stare at Jungkook in shock. “We need a condom!”

You could kick yourself for being so stupid, drunk on a lust haze and barely forgetting the fact you always stay protected. Never wanting an accident to happen with anyone who comes between your legs. Even Jungkook.

You’re stunned momentarily as you drink in the sight of Jungkook kneeling behind you. His hand holding the base of his cock as he holds it angled for your pussy while the other grips your hip. His abdomen tightening from the anticipation while his biceps flex as he holds back his body. Lazily, his eyes meet yours after staring down at your ass in a trance for far too long. A pout follows his frown until he catches how deep in thought he's in. Not realizing how hot and heavy the two of you acted.

“Shit, yeah. Do you have one here?”

You nod, reaching for a box under your bed quickly to pull out a small box of condoms. Jungkook happily takes one from your hand, tearing into the foil quickly and applying the rubber over his cock. He pinches the tip after slinking the condom down his shaft, pulling the elastic slightly to make it more comfortable for his member.

He glances at you, flashing you a bright smile that’s hidden with mischief. He grabs hold of your hips again and pulls you back to him, forcing you back down in an arch once again and prepares himself behind you.

“The condom just makes me fuck you harder,” he alerts as he’s pressing into you. His cockhead slips through your lips and begins dragging against your walls. A throaty groan erupts from your throat, entangled by pure blissful pleasure as Jungkook spears you open. “Makes me last longer.”

“Good,” you bark back with a smile only you can tell you wear. Your face shoves itself into your blankets as you feel Jungkook fill you up, rocking into you as you buck your hips back. His girth stretches you out in the most rewarding ways possible, making that slight stinging pain feel glorious and well deserving. “Fuck me hard then.”

Jungkook’s head swims with all the carnal desire built up. Once his other hand grips the other side of your hips you are done for. His grip is tight, desperate to keep hold of you as you squirm with his new pace. He thrusts into you, reeling you back into him with each swift movement of his hips. Sinking his cock as deep into your pussy as possible, drawing out those delicious squelching noises.

His strides speed up as the sounds of skin slapping skin gets louder. It twists your insides in a good way. Gaining a praising squeal from you as a burning coil in your abdomen tightens dangerously. Jungkook ravages his advantage on you, mounting you from behind and having ultimate control of your body. His cock slips out from the warm wetness of your cunt only to fill it aggressively back up.

Your nails pull at the blankets under you as your teeth bite into your bottom lip, breaking the plush skin. 

“Ah! Yes!” You moan, pussy throbbing with excitement as Jungkook pushes you closer to a release. “Fuck – Harder!”

You beg him to rail you more. Want to feel the way he pushes you over the edge. Jungkook’s chest heaves with labor, his voice turns more whiney and groany.

Calloused and tattooed fingers snake their way up your back to your neck, slipping them around the front and hoisting you up. Jungkook drags you against him, forcing your body upright as his hips continue to slap into your backside. The angle creates new bliss, prodding harshly against a sensitive area of your walls. Steadily, Jungkook hardens his grip around your neck. Applying pressure to limit your breath.

“Aren’t you lucky?” Jungkook embeds his head in the crook of your neck, mouth sucking sharply on your skin. He lets out vocal grunts as he continues to slam into you while his other hand seeks your front. Slipping down between your thighs to toy and rub circles against your engorged clit. “Getting fucked so hard, you’ll have no problem sleeping after this.”

Your moan rings through Jungkook’s ears as your cunt spasms and convulses around his spearing cock. His new position sends you into a frenzy. Orgasm after orgasm hits you, exploding within your heated body as Jungkook’s fingers and cock ruthlessly abuse your pussy. You cry with joy, a shaky breath whispering his name like a mantra as you gasp for air.

Jungkook continues to roll his hips into you from behind, pushing you past the point of your initial release and sending you into overdrive. He pinches your clit to hear you shriek, charging his ego and exciting his senses. He’s cruel, really, to latch his teeth onto your neck as grunted breaths escape his nose as he forces himself in you. But it’s so undeniably hot as he does it.

It pushes Jungkook toward his release, cracking down his walls and busting open the floodgates as he shoots warm, white cum into the tip of his condom. Cock nudged all the way in your pussy walls as he stills, groaning with words of how good you feel around him. Your panting bodies freeze together; still kneeling and heaving like you’ve run a marathon.

Your pussy convulses as aftershocks of your orgasm vibrates around Jungkook’s lodged cock, flexing and unflexing until he slowly pulls out of you. You miss it, the feeling of him filling your walls. Now they’re left bare, empty with nothing touching them.

You want to rest your body against his, but you know you can’t. It’s not a good decision to do more damage than what has already been caused. Maybe it’s the tenderness of your beating heart that still swarms with warmth after intimacy. Although you must always shake those feelings especially when it comes to your roommate. Who has nothing to do with you on a relationship level. And only once in a while the two of you slip up and fuck your frustrations out.

Jungkook moves first which surprises you. His lean figure has no problem pushing you back down to the bed after removing both his hands from you. He flops beside you and focuses on pulling off the condom from his softening cock without spilling its contents. He ties a knot at the opening before dropping it to the floor, not caring where exactly it lands.

The bed feels plush and heavenly against your face. The cool of your blankets chill you off yet welcome you with open arms. You stare at Jungkook as your heartbeat fails to relax. Portions of his bangs stick to his forehead from the sheen of sweat that decorates it. He breathes in the cool air with his eyes closed, catching his breath as he levels his body.

“We can’t do this again,” you remind him. Slumber knocks at your front door, reminding you how tired you are. “It’ll cause problems.”

“It’s already a problem,” he groans. He doesn’t bother looking at the scowl on your face. He knows it’s there. “It’s an addictive problem.”

Aimlessly, Jungkook reaches for a portion of the blanket from under him. He brings it over him enough to tuck himself comfortably in your bed. You even fight over it with him, telling him to go to his own bed if he’s tired. Though, he doesn’t listen. He’s selective once again. Knowing that he can get away with getting under your skin. Enjoying the way you get agitated how all he needs to do is wrap his arm around your body, filling you with his warm embrace – and you cave in. 

Moodboard credit: @kth1​

© 2023 All rights reserved under @kth1​ - do not copy, repost, modify, edit, or translate any of my work without my direct consent. This TUMBLR and AO3 are the ONLY places my fics are posted.

#lucky lucky girl #kth1fics #bangtansorciere #thebtswritersclub #jeon jungkook #jungkook #jungkook smut #jungkook pwp #jungkook imagines #jungkook drabble #jungkook one shot #jungkook fanfic #jungkook x you #jungkook fic #jungkook au #bts smut #bts fanfic #bts pwp

[soulessjourney]

His Love Story

Paring: young!Coriolanus x fem!Reader

Word count: 2.7k

Summary: Coriolanus came to realize what he had lost when it was already too late.

Warnings: ANGST, mentions of cheating, reader throwing things at Coriolanus

A/N: I apologize; unfortunately, the works I promised you for this week will not be posted. I've encountered some issues with my university and have been busy trying to get them to fulfill their responsibilities. However, I wanted to provide you with something to read. I hope this little angsty one-shot serves as a small compensation for what I was unable to post this week. I promise you that the other works will be posted before the end of the year.

The holidays were meant to be festive and warm, so why did Coriolanus feel so cold? The house lay dark, enveloped in an icy chill that seemed to freeze everything within. The once radiant glow of Christmas lights failed to cast their comforting warmth across the rooms of his home. He found himself alone, stripped of your presence—no longer able to hear your declarations of love or your pleading to have him place the star atop the tree, especially after you nearly tumbled from the ladder, too stubborn to seek assistance.

----

"Coryo, please, I really need your help unless you want to witness a first lady take a tumble from this ladder again. I don’t know why you insisted on getting such a massive tree," you grumble, holding the golden star in your hand, while kicking at the ground in front of you, the fluffy socks on your feet sliding against the tile.

Coriolanus raises a brow and lets out a chuckle before stepping forward and gently pressing his lips to your forehead. "I asked if you wanted help and you refused, telling me you'd be able to do it," he shrugs. It was true; you had snapped at him five minutes prior, insisting you could place the star at the top of the tree without his help. You knew Coriolanus wouldn’t assist until you fluttered your eyelashes and asked him nicely, but being you, that was unlikely to happen.

The two of you were hosting a grand holiday celebration as in previous years, and Coriolanus had suggested getting a large tree for the foyer, so it would be the first thing guests saw upon arrival. At the time, you loved the idea. However, now that you volunteered to decorate it, thinking it would be a great way to spend time together, regret was creeping in. "Please, I don’t think my ankle can take another leap off the ladder to save my life," you grumble, lifting your head once Coriolanus grabs the star with a laugh.

You watch his every move as he scales the small ladder and reaches up to place the star at the top. Once he's back on the ground, his arms wrap around your waist, and his lips land on your cheek. "The tree looks amazing, Darling. The guests are going to love how beautiful it is," he whispers, brushing your hair back, his eyes softening as he looks down at you.

Smiling up at him, you lean up and pause just before your lips touch his. "The star is crooked. Please fix it before I decide to topple this tree," you hum, patting his chest before turning on your heel to begin decorating the living room, leaving Coriolanus grumbling about how much of a tease you are.

----

Coriolanus stood in the foyer, his gaze lingering on the space where the tree would usually stand. He could still hear the echoes of your laughter bouncing off the walls and recall the moments when you hummed while adorning the tree with ornaments. Yet, those memories seemed to darken abruptly, and he felt a tightening sensation in his chest, prompting him to massage the muscle over his heart in an attempt to alleviate the discomfort. Moving toward the grand hall, Coriolanus glanced at the portraits lining the walls. Each one still held photos of your wedding and some captured moments from when he first became President and you the First Lady. Pausing at the top of the stairs, he halted, allowing his eyes to sweep the room, searching for any sign of life.

---

"Coryo, there you are!" you grin, catching the attention of your husband. Wrapping your arm around his, you tug him down the stairs. "Tigris has been wanting to speak to you, and I’ve had a run-in with the mayor of Two. Don't worry, though; he won't be bothering you until later. I ensured his wife would keep him busy. The Mayors of Five and Eight are also eager to talk to you, and they've made it clear they wish to do it sooner rather than later. About what? I'm not sure; I couldn't get much out of them. They were pretty cryptic," you say, missing the loving gaze aimed towards you as the two of you weave through the crowd.

Coriolanus felt blessed to have a wife as dedicated as you. You were well-versed in politics and adept at handling party guests, much better at welcoming and mingling than he was. He appreciated how you kept him informed about who needed to speak with him or requested his presence, ensuring there were no surprises as the event progressed. Tigris often teased that you were more of a secretary due to how efficiently you organized things for him or rearranged his schedule to accommodate last-minute meetings or events. Though her comments sometimes irked him, you never once complained about assisting him. In fact, when he tried to lighten your workload, you argued that it was your duty as his wife to ensure things were organized so he could come to bed at a reasonable hour.

Coming to a stop, he spins you around and presses his lips against yours, drawing out a surprised gasp. When he leans back, he can't help but grin at your expression, taking your face in his hands. "I am extremely thankful to have you by my side. I know I don’t say it enough, but I do appreciate everything you do for me. I love you," he whispers, leaning down to place a small kiss against your nose, noticing how your eyes well up at his words.

Pulling him closer by his shirt, you plant a small kiss on his lips before looking around. "Go talk to your cousin and then the two mayors. Once you're done, come back to the bedroom; I have a surprise for you," you whisper in his ear, shooting him a sly smile as you slip away from him and head toward your shared bedroom.

---

Coriolanus found himself standing in the center of the tiled floor, the very spot where you both had been not long ago, vivid memories flooding his mind. His skin still tingled from your touch, and his lips retained the sensation of where you had kissed him before slipping away to your room. Shaking his head, he stormed out of the room, catching the eye of one of the maids as he walked past.

"Close it off, tear it apart, rebuild it—I don't care what you do. I don’t want to see that room anymore," he snapped, forcefully making his way past the maid and toward your shared bedroom. Even this space wasn’t a sanctuary. He hadn't touched a single thing since the night you stormed into the room, consumed by embarrassment and rage. He hadn't dared enter that room since things between you both began to unravel because of a foolish mistake.

The shattered flower vase you had thrown still lay beside the window, its fragments mingling with the wilted roses scattered on the floor. Your green gown lay discarded, adorned with the diamond earrings placed delicately nearby. The necklace rested in a heap next to the cracked mirror on the opposite side of the room, evidence of the impact from the small piece of metal. That night, he had been oblivious to where that argument would lead because deep down, he had refused to believe he could ever lose you.

---

Coriolanus couldn't process the force with which the door had flung open, slamming against the wall, surely leaving a small hole from the impact of the door handle. Suddenly, a flower vase filled with white roses hurtled towards him, leaving him little time to react before it crashed against the wall, shattering into fragments on the ground.

"Y/N, what the hell was that for?!" he yelled, turning towards you, anger flashing in his eyes. However, the sight before him halted any further words. There you stood, shoulders hunched, body trembling with quick breaths. But what concerned him more were the angry tears streaking down your cheeks, leaving a trail of eyeliner and mascara in their wake. Your clenched fists and tense jaw spoke volumes as you glared at him.

"I've given you the benefit of the doubt, Coriolanus Snow. I've tried being patient because you've been so engrossed in the Games, but tonight? It was the last straw. You've been distant, and it’s been a month since you touched me. Not a single brush of contact," you declared, standing taller while Coriolanus felt himself inwardly shrinking in response to your fury.

"You promised me you'd make a speech. You knew how long I worked on this campaign to help these kids have a better life. But you never showed up, and all they could talk about was how this wasn’t your priority," you snapped, tearing off your dress and tossing it aside along with your earrings.

Coriolanus stood frozen, mentally reworking his schedule before realization struck him. You had been devoted to this project for over a year, aiming to provide less fortunate children in the capital with an equal educational opportunity at the academy to build their reputations. You had poured your time and effort into tutoring these children and forging partnerships, neglecting your own home life. Tonight was the culmination of your hard work, and Coriolanus had promised to be there to support you. But he had forgotten.

"I'm sorry, Y/N. I truly meant to be there, but I got caught up with Evadne. Did they approve your project?" he asked, tentatively approaching you.

You scoffed bitterly. "No, Coriolanus, they didn’t. They laughed me out of the room. Why approve a project my own husband wasn’t there to support, as he promised? A year and a half of work down the drain, and children’s futures ruined because you got caught up with your assistant." Arms crossed, you turned away, your voice softening. "You've been spending more time with her lately. Is there something going on between the two of you?"

Something flared in his eyes before he clicked his tongue, shaking his head. "She's been around more, almost seeming more like my wife."

His words hung heavy in the air, and you fell silent, your breaths slowing before you ripped off your necklace and hurled it across the room, ignoring the distant sound of breaking glass. "Y/N, please, I—" he started, but your glare silenced him.

Retreating into the closet, you grabbed your clothes and slipped into a nightgown before heading for the door. "We can sleep in separate rooms since you don't see me as your wife anymore, especially after I've been working so hard for change. Talk to me when you come to your senses, Coriolanus," you murmured quietly before leaving the room, your back turned to him.

---

After that fateful night, something irreparable fractured in your relationship. Arguments became more frequent, often ending in both of you retreating to your respective corners for the rest of the day. The rift widened when you accidentally discovered Coriolanus's infidelity through Tigris. She inadvertently let slip about Coriolanus and Evadne during a lunch together. Her realization dawned too late, assuming you had already known about their affair. That revelation shattered something within you, causing you to shut down completely, intensifying the growing distance between you and Coriolanus.

Before long, you found yourself restricted within your own home. All work was mandated to be completed in your office, conveniently situated down the hall from his. You were forbidden to leave for lunches with Tigris, who was now only permitted to visit you at home. Coriolanus confined you due to his selfish reasons, leaving you feeling trapped and adrift. He foolishly believed that keeping you isolated at home would prevent you from leaving.

As he stepped into your closet, many dresses he had gifted you hung there, but one solitary item remained. It was a sweater that belonged solely to you. It was the same sweater he often found you wearing during the early hours of the morning, curled up in a chair in the dining room with a book and a cup of coffee. It became the last tangible link he had to you and, unexpectedly, his most cherished possession.

---

Seated at the dining table, you absentmindedly toyed with the ends of your sweater, awaiting Coriolanus's arrival. It marked the first time in weeks that you'd had a conversation with him, and he had promptly agreed to talk once he finished sorting through his papers. As Coriolanus entered the room, a pang of familiarity struck him; it felt reminiscent of old times when he'd find you in that very sweater, engrossed in a book. Yet, things were starkly different now. No book graced the table, and you seemed diminished in the sweater, the atmosphere devoid of the warmth it once radiated.

Sitting across from you, Coriolanus nervously wiped his hands on his pants and cleared his throat. "You mentioned wanting to speak with me. I apologize for the delay; we encountered funding issues for the upcoming fundraiser at the academy, so I had to make some calls," he said softly.

You appeared transformed from the vibrant person he had known. Your complexion was paler, your eyes lacked their former vivacity, and your hair, no longer meticulously styled, was gathered into a simple bun, stray strands framing your face. Most noticeably, your lips, once adorned with a perpetual smile upon seeing him, now curved into a permanent frown. You were no longer the same, and he knew it was his doing.

"I know about your affair with Evadne," you murmured quietly, your gaze drifting down to the ring on your finger. Coriolanus stiffened at your words. "Don’t concern yourself with her; I dismissed her as soon as I found out. I’ve been managing your schedule, just like old times."

Coriolanus looked down, nodding slowly. "It was a regrettable mistake, one that should never have happened. I have no excuse, and I apologize. I'll do whatever it takes to prove I'll never hurt you like that again," he pleaded, halting as he noticed your lack of response.

"This isn’t about your infidelity, Coriolanus. For months, we haven’t shared a bed, barely breathing the same air until now. I've tried to give you space, but you've become consumed by your work that I don't even get a glance anymore. I wouldn't bring this up unless I felt it necessary. I’ll offer you a choice: me or drowning yourself in your work," you spoke softly, twirling the ring on your finger.

Coriolanus remained silent for a moment, contemplating his next words. "I can't sacrifice my work, Y/N. I'm the President of Panem; everything hinges on me, you know that," he responded quietly. His gaze fixed on your hand as you slid off your ring and pushed it towards him. He had made his choice, and it shattered you more than you believed possible.

You hadn't expected him to relinquish his position. In truth, you had hoped he'd recognize the perfection of your life together when he balanced his personal and professional life. But he was so far gone that your once-private life had disintegrated. You loved Coriolanus dearly, but in the end, this was the best for both of you.

---

Coriolanus removes the sweater from the hanger, clutching it tightly to his chest, then presses it close to his face, inhaling its familiar scent. Crumpling to the ground, he clings to the garment, still redolent of roses and lavender. The fragrance of roses, his doing, a constant presence around you, reminiscent of moments when you tended to the flowers in the rose garden. The lavender, your choice, believed to alleviate the stress that often burdened you. He cherished the scent, often burying his nose in your hair to catch the calming aroma of lavender, a solace during his stressful work times.

Tears trickled down his cheeks, escalating into audible sobs as reality sank in. It had been months since you departed, and Coriolanus, preoccupied with work, attempted to fill his days to avoid noticing your absence. Yet, with the approaching holidays, he couldn’t ignore that you wouldn’t be there to greet him with tender morning kisses or engage in playful debates over home decorations. You were gone, and he had lost you. This, he realized, was his love story—a narrative that ended in losing you. Despite his efforts to locate you, you had vanished into thin air, taking his heart with you.

---

A/N: While writing this, I kept listening to 'Love Story' on repeat, and suddenly, the song felt much more heavier and beautifully sad. I hope you enjoyed reading this one-shot, my holiday gift to you. I promise to diligently work on the next parts of my projects and get them up as soon as possible

Tags: @andwhatofthelight @sabrinasbd @snowlandstop @obsesseddd @quicksilversg1rl @runningfrom2am @weeeoosworld @poppyflower-22 @butlersluvbot @lugiastark @alana4610 @i-love-ptv

#tbosas #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #coriolanus x you #coryolanus snow #coryo snow #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus fanfiction #tbosbas fanfiction #tbosas x reader #tbosbas #tbosas fanfiction #tom blyth fanfiction #tom blyth x reader #tom blyth #Spotify

[yandere-romanticaa]

Helloo it's my first time requesting and I saw you had requests openig if im not mistaken! I wanted to ask if you could write something with Jing yuan again? I'm obsessed with your recent post of him and urghhh I need more. This man has been haunting me like I'd eat up anything, especially in your writing style

Taking a walk around the Lofu was a rare luxury for General Jing Yuan. Whenever he could afford it he gladly took it, the mere prospect of running away from his dull work always brought a smile to his face. He also liked to look at the various foods and trinkets which were sold all over.

He wanted to bring back something for you. It was the least he could do.

A tiny sting of regret plagued him - he hated how cruel he had to be, just how indelicate he was with you. Caging you up like some stray animal, it was beyond barbaric. But there was also no other option for him to choose and out of everything this indeed was the lesser evil.

He just wished you could love him a little more, no matter how selfish that may have been.

Never once did Jing Yuan force you into anything, he could not do such a thing. He bid his time, carefully constructing paths which would allow for you to soften up towards him, to finally embrace him in your soft arms.

Jing Yuan had this secret little fantasy in which he imagined himself coming back to work, only for him to immediately run straight towards you and pass out in your arms. He would be the happiest man alive if such a blessing came his way.

Unfortunately, that was nothing more but a fantasy. And Jing Yuan could not afford to live in fantasies and regrets.

He needed to live in the present.

Stopping by a humble flower shop, Jing Yuan admired the various assortments of the beautiful blooms. He made sure to ask around which flower would be the best to gift and the shop owner was more than happy to indulge the general. In a matter of minutes Jing Yuan continued his walk but now with a massive assortment of flowers in his left hand, the soft petals softly swishing in the calm breeze.

He never stopped to think just how odd this would look to the eye of an outsider.

By some divine timing, the general felt his phone vibrate in his pocket. Picking it up and unlocking it, Jing Yuan was met with an assortment of various newspaper articles and each one was about him.

"HOT OR NOT? General Jing Yuan has a lover!"

"All exclusive reports about General Jing Yuan!!"

"The Lovestruck General strikes again!"

"Lovestruck or Lovesick? General Jing Yuan out and about, picking up gifts for rumoured lover!"

Jing Yuan could not help but sigh a little at the scandalous articles, albeit with a hint of amusement. Huh, odd enough that Diviner Fu hadn't contacted him about his affairs.

... Speak of the devil.

Just as the thought came to him Jing Yuan's phone started to ring and in no time he picked it up. The General faced a harsh scolding from Diviner Fu, her tone beyond agitated as she reprimanded him for his behavior. Besides, if he does not come back soon his pet, as Fu liked to say, would start to act out.

Jing Yuan ended the call but before he put away his phone, the general looked into those articles one last time. Each one was filled with photos of him from every possible angle, some downright bizarre and troubling. Someone must have at least sprained an ankle trying to take these.

At least he looked handsome in all of them!

#yandere #yandere x reader #yancore #yandere imagines #yandere x you #yanderecore #yandere aesthetic #jing yuan x reader #yandere jing yuan #jing yuan #honkai star rail #honkai star rail jing yuan #yandere hsr #hsr x reader #hsr x you #hsr x y/n #hsr jing yuan

[thereticx]

៚𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝗋𝗍 𝗐𝖺𝗇𝗍𝗌 𝗐𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗂𝗍 𝗐𝖺𝗇𝗍𝗌

inspired by this song

pairing: Eren Jaeger x Reader

summary: Eren Jaeger shows his face again after a whole year away, recovering from the mess that was yours' breakup. Summer was already here and with it there's no escaping one another.

warnings: break up, ex's to lovers, cheating rumors, sexual themes, slight body talk

author's note: first attempt to write something that includes a song so I hope this isn't terrible (also the first one shot with smut after some time)

✎"Darling, you need to eat something. Please" Carla's voice rang through the massive room where she and her son stood for almost an hour trying to enjoy some good food. She hated seeing him like this, empty and absent.

Eren played with the fork while slowly raising his eyes to face his mother. He tried to mimic a smile as best as he could, maybe just maybe, she'll let it go "I'm not that hungry I ate before I got here"

The long ride to his mother's house gave him enough time to put himself together, to put up a front, convincing enough in order to not raise suspicions. But he forgot that it's his mother. Carla could read him like an open book, she was able to break through his facade and see him.

"Sweetheart, did you break up? Or is it something else? You know you can—"

"Yeah, we did" The boy felt how tears were about to fall from his eyes. God, he hated crying. It made him weak and hopeless. A single question was enough to take him back to that day where all went downhill.

「Hand over heart, I'm praying

That I'm gonna make it out alive 」

"Three years, Eren! Three damn years!" Your mouth tasted the salty tears that slipped over your chapped lips, then it hit you "Why?"

Eren stood in front of you, his eyes scanning your form. Your beautiful face was coated with tears and your eyes were tinted red from all the emotions flowing through them. Those eyes he got lost in every night held so much pain, so much betrayal, for him.

"Baby…please.. I can explain, just—" His trembling hands reached out for you, taking your face in them, his thumb brushing away a droplet of water. Eren's touch was so comforting yet so strange in that moment. You didn't know what to do, how to react. Part of you wanted to slap him so hard he would feel the sting for days, but another part wanted to give up. It was quite tempting to fall into his arms, to let him taste your lips and whisper what you so desperately wanted to hear.

「You got me scattered in pieces

Shining like stars and screaming」

No it's not right. You couldn't offer him your forgiveness not this time. With a shaky breath you managed to break everything you two have built. Every happy moment where you were laughing together, kissing, undressing everything crumbled. To say it hurt like hell was an understatement. It felt horrible. Eren felt his heart hurt, his chest moving up and down so fast he couldn't breathe properly "Please don't….please"

「This is a modern fairy tale

No happy endings」

That day haunted you for weeks on end. You grew to miss him so—so much that nothing had meaning in your life without him.

Eren was the air you breathed, he was the sun that warmed you up whenever you had a messed up day, when you wanted to smash everything in your sight and just hysterically cry.

He would warm you up with his little smirk that showcased perfect teeth, coming to embrace you and kiss your eyelids, your hair and finally your lips. There, he spent a good amount of time, swallowing every regret you had for the day and every bad thought. His lips were so gentle and sweet you couldn't resist. His fingers playing with the hem of your shorts while saying "Let me love you, baby"

And who were you to deny him?

「The bed's getting cold and you're not here

The future that we hold is so unclear

But I'm not alive until you call

And I'll bet the odds against it all」

The body that laid beside you was unknown, strange. Your soul refused to acknowledge it. The burning feeling you once got from Eren touching you, now it was locked up. There's no such thing as pleasure anymore. Only the gods now, you tried to love him. Your new boyfriend. You really did try.

If only he knew what was going on through your head a few hours ago when you had sex. If only he knew the boy who stole your mind and heart was far—far away and still you felt him so close.

His old shirts were kept in your closet, his ring that he had given you on your first year anniversary was kept beside you on your nightstand.

「There's a million reasons why I should give you up

But the heart wants what it wants」

Nights were the worst. In those moments you felt like the most. Your body tingles when you wear his clothes and when you click on the album you're faced with thousands of memories. All of them printed on your mind that when you close your eyes you're able to see him.

「You got me sippin' on something

I can't compare to nothing」

"Eren…this is my boyfriend" A knife ripped his skin and struck his heart. Was this really happening? He shook his hand trying to be as polite as possible but deep down he wanted to break your boyfriend's head and steal you away from him.

Eren was dressed handsomely but adapted to the hot weather. He had his key necklace hidden under his shirt and a smaller one sitting right at the base of his neck. His arms were decorated with bracelets all of them from the time you went to parties together but what really caught your attention was the ring he wore. The one you bought him when he turned nineteen.

He always wore it, even at the gym. Despite the fact that it left nasty marks on his finger, he didn't dare take it off.

When you trailer your eyes up his form you caught his eyes. You could see the pain and regret was still there, but he restrained himself from making a move. His body just couldn't move. You saw the innerbattle he endured seeing you with another man. It was hard for you too, because if he was to take your hand in his right then and there you'll give in and abandon your morals.

Please do it.

He didn't.

「But then you disappear and make me wait

And every second's like torture」

This was a terrible idea. You shouldn't be here with him. Not alone. It's not like you didn't trust him, you didn't trust yourself.

"So, about that thing. I didn't cheat on you. Historia just got into a fight with Ymir and I hugged her. That's all" Eren felt like it was too late to explain everything. But he had hope that you'll take him back.

「Save your advice 'cause I won't hear

You might be right, but I don't care

There's a million reasons why I should give you up

But the heart wants what it wants

The heart wants what it wants」

You smashed your cold lips against his, licking his lower lip to ask for entrance. His hands cupped your face keeping you so close your breaths became one. The taste of him was so addicting you desperately wanted to rip his clothes off.

"What about him?" He whispered, opening his eyes to scan your reaction. You smiled "The only one I care about right now is you. So, shut up and kiss me"

(the two of you broke up before this)

His arms lifted you by the hips and wrapped your legs around his waist. You felt him smirk against your neck, pressing wet hungry kisses. You tilted your head to the side allowing Eren to mark your neck. Your fingers were in his hair taking out his hair tie and letting the long strands of hair to rest on his shoulders "Eren..please"

"I know baby, I know" With one kiss pressed on your lips he laid you down on his bed sheets, admiring your body. You were curvier than he remembered, more beautiful if that was even possible.

Eren removed his shirt, his torso and abs on full display. He let your finger travel on his pecks while he rested his forehead on yours "I fucking missed you" Your touch raised goosebumps on his whole body and his pants were tighter with every second.

You sat up discarding your clothes along with your bra and underwear. You kept your thighs together to stop the slick from slipping further down your legs.

Eren watched you with hungry eyes when he noticed something. Your arms were around your middle, to hide something. He leaned in, taking your lips in his, meeting your tongue. You couldn't escape him. His overwhelming presence made you remove your arms from around you and pull him in, working your way to get him out of his pants.

Eren gripped his dick in his hand aligning with your entrance. His slit moved briefly up and down teasing you "Eren please.." You raised your hips to get some kind of friction.

The boy gripped your hips and stopped your movements "Tell me if it hurts" He pushed his tip inside, making you gripp the bedsheets. It's been a long time since he had been inside you and your now ex boyfriend wasn't even near as big as Eren.

He pushed forward making you close your eyes to stop the tears from building up "Relax baby I'm almost halfway"

Halfway?

"Eren it hurts—" Upon hearing you, he moved no more. His hands grabbed yours and squeezed them "Shh…you're doing so good love..so good" You opened your eyes seeing him look at you with so much love and admiration. He was painfully hard but still he took it slow for you.

His thumb drew circles on your hand while he whispered "Do you remember the first time we did it? You took me so good. Fuck, this pussy is perfect baby. You're perfect"

While he talked you were so focused that you didn't pay attention to the pain anymore "Can I move?"

Oh..

You slowly nodded your head and felt Eren's thrusts. His movements were slow but deep. Your walls hugged him so good he felt like cumming right then.

"Oh fuck—" He picked up the pace, making you see stars. His dick went deeper with every movement reaching your g spot.

You arched your back feeling your orgasm build up "Eren I'm about to cum" He let go of your arms letting you wrap them around his neck. You rested your face in the crook of his neck, panting.

Eren felt your pussy clench around him as your orgasm hit you "That's it baby. Let it go" He put his hand on the back of your head, stroking your hair while he kissed your hair line.

When he pulled out of you, your juices where running down your inner thighs "No..you didn't get to cum"

He laughed sweetly pecking your lips "Don't worry about me—"

But you didn't listen. You pushed him on the bed, your lips kissing him lower and lower, reaching his still hard dick.

You looked up at him and god, he was about break. His hair stuck to his handsome face, his cheeks reddening. He was embarrassed.

You started kissing his dick from the base until you reached his tip. Your tongue came in contact with the precum and didn't hesitate to take him in all the way.

"Fuck—fuck" You felt his fingers grip your hair while he held you there for a second. He didn't apply pressure letting you do whatever.

You moved your head up and down, your tongue flat against his dick. He wasn't able to contain himself and thrusted up in your mouth "Don't stop fuck—"

You didn't dare to. Your hand squeezed his balls while you went faster. His moans were getting louder which indicated that he was close. Eren wasn't the one to shy away when having sex. He was as loud as he wanted.

His dick hit the back of your throat, releasing his load.

He watched you swallow his cum. You crawled on top of him kissing him. He trapped you with his arms, his lips biting your earlobe "I love you, Y/N"

You didn't reply with words but rather you kissed his jaw resting your head on his chest.

I love you

He knew that. You didn't have to speak.

For him it was enough that you were there.

That night the two of you made a promise. Through breathless moments you admitted to yourselves that…..

「The heart wants what it wants, baby

It wants what it wants, baby」

Your hearts want one another.

#fanfic #x reader #anime #snk #aot #attack on titan #eren yeager #eren x reader #one shot #eren smut #eren jaeger #eren jaeger smut #eren x you #eren x y/n #shingeki no kyoujin imagine #snk eren

[cleo-fox]

Fic Preview: Overtime

Full fic now posted

@sarahscribbles convinced me to post a preview of my TVA office romance fic. It doesn’t have a proper summary yet, but the text of the preview is kind of a good summation of the setup.

Warnings: None in this excerpt. There will be smut in the full fic.

You don’t think that Mobius intended to keep Loki’s desk behind yours.

“It’s temporary,” he tells you apologetically. “He just needs somewhere to go for now, until I figure out what to do with him.”

“You’re talking about him like he’s a stray cat that you found,” you say.

“You won’t even know he’s there, I promise.”

“You’re still doing it.”

Mobius sighs and puts on his most sincere, earnest expression—the one that he always uses when he’s about to ask you for a stupidly massive favor.

And it’s only because you almost never, ever see this look from him that you back down.

“Okay, fine,” you say. “But he’d better be on his best behavior.”

Mobius puts his palms together and tips them toward you. “Thank you. You will not regret this, I promise.”

You sigh and shake your head. “Just remember this next time you’re budgeting for raises.”

But then—in a move that you certainly don’t expect—Loki ends up sticking around. And, in the subtle way that the stray you’ve been feeding slowly turns into your cat, Loki’s temporary desk becomes his permanent desk. And strangely enough, Mobius’ assurances turn out to be more correct than not: Loki does a lot of fieldwork and is often away; when he is at his desk, it tends to be because he is working on more complicated missions, the ones that require poring over mountains of files looking for patterns and trying to untangle the slippery mess of time itself.

Your work is decidedly less glamorous than Loki’s—almost no fieldwork, lots of files. Endless files. Some days you feel as though you must have seen every file in the TVA’s extensive library and then you’re immediately proven wrong by another wing of filing cabinets that you swear wasn’t even there before.

Although he is generally well-behaved as your desk neighbor, Loki’s presence has a way of distracting you. Even if you didn’t know who he was, your gaze would still naturally drift his way, lingering on those regal cheekbones, that ink black hair, that cunning smirk. The way that the fabric of his dress pants clings to his thighs certainly doesn’t help, to say nothing of how his forearms look with his shirtsleeves rolled up. He can make your heart start to race with no more than a casual glance in your direction and god help you if he gives you one of those devastating smiles.

Luckily, you don’t think he takes that much notice of you. You have the sort of pleasantly dull exchanges of coworkers who don’t really know each other and he is almost painfully polite to you. It’s a strong departure from the way he interacts with others—with others, he is bold, charming, sarcastic, talkative, a far cry from the more subdued, almost courtly tone he strikes with you. It’s a difference that is so stark that you can’t help but attribute it to some sort of negative feeling on his end.

“How’s it going with Loki?” Mobius asks you during a one-on-one meeting a couple of months after Loki’s temporary desk becomes his permanent desk. “He’s behaving himself, right?”

“It’s been fine,” you say, “though truthfully, I don’t think he likes me all that much.”

“What? Of course he likes you,” Mobius says. “Why wouldn’t he like you? You’re lovely.”

You shrug. “I dunno, he’s just different with me than he is with everyone else. Like…overly polite. It’s like he thinks I’m going to send him to the principal’s office or something.”

“Let me get this straight,” says Mobius. “First you were worried that he wouldn’t behave himself and now you’re worried that he’s too well-behaved?”

Privately, you realize he has a point. Outwardly, though, you’re not going to admit it. The sardonic tilt of Mobius’ mouth suggests that he knows this.

“No, I just…I don’t think he likes me all that much,” you say. “And he’s entitled to that. People don’t like each other all the time, it’s not a big deal.”

This is also a little bit of a lie—you do wish he liked you. Loki is so magnetic it’s hard not to want his attention. And with the matter of your silly little crush, well…that doesn’t help either.

Mobius sighs. “I think you’re overthinking this. He likes you, sometimes it just takes him a little time to warm up. He’s a bit of a prickly guy.”

You bite down the urge to point out that you’ve seen him warm to other people almost immediately. This conversation has already gone on longer than you want and you are edging dangerously close to having to admit that you care so much because you have a big stupid crush on him, which is obviously unacceptable.

“Well, the point is that it’s fine,” you say quickly, trying to project an aura of cool confidence. “I don’t have any complaints, he seems like he’s settling in, so let’s move on. Did you have any feedback on my recent report?”

The furrow between Mobius’ eyebrows deepens just slightly, the only indication that he doesn’t fully believe you. But for whatever reason, he decides to let it go and follows your change in topic without further comment.

This is one of the reasons you like Mobius as much as you do: he always seems to know the right moment to push and the right moment to bend.

You’re not sure if your relationship with Loki would have changed had it not been for the problem of Charles Berlitz.

The joke around the office is that after Mobius convinced Loki to work for the TVA, he needed something new to obsess over and Charles Berlitz was the next best option. It’s hard to say exactly who Berlitz is, as he has a tendency of showing up, well…everywhere. He is quite literally in every timeline, at least as far as anyone can tell. Sometimes he is an author, penning serious, scholarly essays on outlandish theories like the Bermuda Triangle and the Philadelphia Experiment. He seems to have a fondness for all manner of schemes—he was responsible for introducing both homeopathy and multi-level marketing to no fewer than sixty different timelines. His ability to peddle bullshit naturally led him to politics—pick any rebellion, coup, or campaign on any given timeline and there’s a good chance you’ll also find Charles Berlitz.

Scammers and con artists are not atypical in your line of work, but what makes Charles Berlitz an enduring mystery is that he has never been found. You can have reputable documentary evidence that Berlitz was present at a certain time and location, but if you show up to investigate, he is never there. There have been some glimpses over the years—a shadowy face in the back of a crowd, the hem of a cloak disappearing behind the building—but nothing concrete or substantive.

“Our ghost in the timeline,” Mobius had said in one of his more poetic moments at an all staff meeting, his voice overly hushed and dramatic. You had seen Loki roll his eyes and you had to fake a coughing fit to hide your laugh.

Time moves differently at the TVA, so it’s hard to say how long Mobius has been working on this case when he makes a breakthrough, but it’s not terribly long after your conversation about Loki. A campaign button had been found in an apartment that Berlitz had rented for two years in the French Quarter. That particular campaign button could only have existed in one specific timeline and its distribution was limited. You aren’t entirely clear on all of the details, but Mobius seems to have a plan.

And unfortunately, that plan involves you giving up most of your weekend to work.

It’s near quitting time on what passes for a Friday at the TVA. Loki has been in today and you can hear him starting to pack up. Technically, he’s got twenty minutes of work left, but you’re not about to tell him that.

You doodle absently on your notepad. Technically, you’ve also got twenty minutes of work left, but realistically: nothing is happening.

“Oh, great, you’re both still here.”

In general, this phrase has never meant good news for you and when you look up, you see Mobius with a sizable armful of files.

Also not a great sign.

Mobius plunks the stack of files directly on your desk. “There’s been a development with Berlitz. I need you both to review these now.”

“It’s Friday,” says Loki, affronted. “Surely it can wait until Monday.”

“No can do. I need this done by Sunday at the latest,” says Mobius. “This is an all hands on deck situation.”

Loki glances pointedly at the office around you, which has already started emptying out for the weekend.

“All hands on deck, but most hands are already in the field,” Mobius concedes. “Which is why I need time two of you—” He points to you. “You because you’re good—” He gestures to Loki. “And you because you’ve got desk duty.”

“I beg your pardon—” begins Loki.

“He’s grounded,” Mobius says to you in an exaggerated stage whisper.

This is not surprising to you: you had heard a rumor last week about an incident that had occurred on a mission to the inauguration of Richard Nixon and you suspect that these two events are likely connected.

You look at the pile of paperwork on your desk. You could probably get through it on your own in a couple of hours, but if Loki’s helping, maybe you still have a shot at having Saturday to yourself. You bite back a sigh. “What do you need me to find?”

“Anything that mentions anyone from the Lucchese crime family or Nero Variant N2815,” says Mobius. “I’ll go get the rest.”

Your heart sinks. Farewell, Saturday. “There’s more?” you say.

“It’ll be triple overtime, I already got it approved!” he calls over his shoulder

You sigh and glance at Loki who is scowling at the pile of files as though they’d wronged him personally.

There’s a long moment of silence before you speak. “Is there any truth to the rumor I’ve been hearing about the Nixon inauguration?” you ask.

“If it involved a hot air balloon, then yes,” he says rather tonelessly.

“Well.” You pause as you stare at the pile of papers. “At least it was worth it.”

That at least earns you a hint of a smile.

*

Full fic now posted

#loki x reader #loki imagine #loki laufeyson #loki fanfic #loki fanfiction #fic preview

[mrsaltieri-real]

Sam Carpenter as a Girlfriend (SFW and NSFW)

Sam Carpenter as a girlfriend (with fem!afab!reader)

A/N: Just realised this will be my last post as a 22 year old as it’s my birthday tomorrow and I’ve never written anything for my best girl before. Disgraceful. So let’s start off with some Headcanons!

SFW

Initially, it takes her a while to trust you

She wanted just a fling to start with but found she couldn’t stop thinking about you and it was driving her nuts

Eventually plucks up the courage to ask you out and is just so relieved when you say yes

She’d be very hesitant on dates and try and avoid talking about herself as much as possible

Is still on edge after everything with Richie and his family, she doesn’t know if you’re just using her

She has really bad trust issues, will need a lot of reassurance that you’re in it for the long run

Will take her a few months to begin to open up about herself

Once she does? Oh boy.

Honestly the sweetest girlfriend ever

She’ll open doors for you, pull out your chair for you, kiss your hand

She’s just a sweetie

Loves taking her girlfriend on dates to the movies so she has an excuse to hold your hand or put her arm around you

Likes to lie down with her head in your lap and just chat to you about the most mundane things, enjoying the normality

ADORES it when you play with her hair

She’s just so SOFT with you

But extremely overprotective

Considering what she’s been through can you blame her?

Anyone looks at you the wrong way she’ll immediately get defensive

She’ll honestly square up to a 6ft5 boxer if they made you even a little uncomfortable

Will honestly knock a bitch out for you and have no regrets

She likes it when you cook for her

Even if you’re an awful cook she’ll eat every last bite of it

Likes to get stoned and laugh with you all fucking night

Works overtime at her job just so she can treat you to date nights, jewelry, clothes, everything

When you tell her to stop she’ll shut you DOWN

Loved to cuddle, more in private

Gushes about you to Tara

Will watch you sleep for hours on end just asking herself how she got so lucky to find someone like you

Her main love languages are words of affirmation, gift giving and quality time

She’s seriously an amazing girlfriend

NSFW

Sam is a FREAK I don’t make the rules

She’s a dom, a goddamn top

Has a high sex drive for sure

Channels her inner rage and bloodlust into fucking you stupid

She’s an ass and thigh girl with a soft spot for tits

But HEAVY on the thighs

She’ll tie you down and grind her clit on your thigh till she cums

And make you do the same to her, literally manhandle you into her and force your hips to move

Owns a strap, scratch that, she has an entire collection of sex toys that she’ll use on you

Treat her strap like it’s her own cock

She’ll make you gag on it, beg for it, fuck your hand with it

Really really gets her going when your sucking her off, looking up into her eyes

Her hands will be on your head, forcing it down your throat

Likes to finger you. Like, REALLY likes to finger you

Then force her fingers into your mouth and make you taste yourself

Same when she’s eating you cunt, she’ll make out with you hard afterward

Likes you to know how wet she’s made you

Her favourite positions with the strap are missionary and doggy

Doggy because she likes the view and it allows her to spank you (she loves spanking)

Missionary because it allows her to kiss you, choke you, rub your clit

A big dirty talker. Not much on degradation but has a massive praise kink on both ends

Likes when you tell her how good she feels, likes to tell you how good you are, how amazing you taste, how good you feel

Really loves phone sex, hearing you get off to her words is just such a turn on for her

She does enjoy scissoring but she prefers thigh riding

Likes when you scratch her up with your nails hard enough to draw blood

Expect to be marked up to holy hell when she is done with you

She really loves to leave hickeys everywhere

You neck, chest, stomach, thighs

Everywhere

Has a big ol’ blood kink that she can’t help

Same with a knife kink

But she’s very calculated with how she incorporates that, the last thing she’d want to do is scare you away

Can and will go down on you for hours, overstimulate the hell out of you and not stop till SHE is done with tasting you

But she loves to receive just as much

She’ll literally fuck your face till your a whimpering, drooling mess

Likes to make you ride her face, will die happily suffocated by your cunt

Sometimes it’s like she a woman possessed and she just can’t control herself when she’s around you

But this is all when she entirely trusts you

After Richie and how he treated her it took her a while to let someone see that side of her

The aftercare is sweet

She’ll clean you up, leaving kisses on every mark she left and just be so gentle with you

Likes to take showers with you and help you clean yourself up

You’ll fall asleep to her tracing her fingers over the hickeys she’d left scattered across your body

#my wife #my girlfriend #i love her so much #she’s so fucking HOT GOD #i gotta write her #i gotta #last post as a 22 year old let’s GO #scream #scream 6 #scream headcanons #sam carpenter x reader #sam carpenter smut #sam carpenter x female reader #sam carpenter

[grapejuicestyless]

Good Luck, Babe!

Harry Styles x Fem!reader

Summery: Harry could run around the world in search of a replacement to fill the void that you left, but he’s better off coming to terms with the fact that he’d have to stop the world just to stop the feeling.

I’m okay knowing I won’t ever get to call my future lover my high school sweetheart. It’s hard to stay committed to someone for decades as an adult, let alone at sixteen. But it pulls at my heart strings just to know little me would be so devastated knowing the boy who used to string up fairy lights and scribble on big bubbles letters on poster boards for our prom decided I was too boring for his massive life and left once the glitter from all the glamour of fame got in his eyes.

It’s funny to think about, ten years thrown away forever because my stable life wasn’t worth living when he could offer me anything I could ever dream of. God forbid I want to settle down with some little ones to teach nothing but love in a world where everyone can only ever teach their children hate. God forbid I wanted that with him.

No, my dreams were stupid compared to those of his own. Children mean nothing to him if he’s not taking home another award for his excellence. Settling down is a laughable dream, how could I expect him to ever even try when it seemed like with every single chance to start trying he was at a new peak in his career.

When I left him, he didn’t even look sad. Not even when I turned to face him as I walked out of our front door with all my things stuffed in a bag slung over my arm. He looked distant, sure, but not sad and that made me sad, for me but mainly for him.

Three years ago if I had even shown signs of unhappiness he would have stopped the world to fix our issues, ironed it all out real nice to make sure that I never felt that feeling again. Now I could beg on my knees pleading for him to hear me and my cries would fall on deaf ears.

But I don’t regret leaving him in the end. It hurt at first, leaving behind all I ever knew, letting him go after I wasted away all my youth on him, but life goes on and my heart would heal the longer we were apart.

Occasionally he would reach out, letters with the same swooping letters that I recognized as his own handwriting, the same writing that once wrote me love letters, all addressed to me with the hopes of meeting up.

But I knew myself better than that, I knew Harry better than that. If I met him, even only for coffee our night would end with me back in his arms and his head between my legs. We weren’t ever meant to split, but then again no one who’s ever felt the same kind of love like young kids is ever made to walk away from something so sweet.

I was better for it, between each letter there was a new girl. A model who resembled me in the most vague ways. I wondered all the time if he ever accidentally called any of them my name. If he chose them with my eye color so when he looked into their eyes he could see mine for just a second. It felt like each week he was caught leaving some bar with some other girl, someone else’s lipstick staining his jaw.

I got over him slowly, never fully, but enough to love again. I had room to give once more and enough strength left to keep fighting for the love I deserved. I earned the right to be able to hold someone who would call me “baby” with pride, without the slightest hesitation or embarrassment.

Harry could kiss a hundred girls and boys in bars, drink away his twenties and sing to his fans across the world, and I would be here chasing my own dreams. After all, he always needed the spotlight, he lived for it. All I needed was a little love, and somehow in his search for glory, he lost any kind of that he had and I had found it again.

I saw Harry a couple years later, the small bar in Brooklyn with the good music and sweaty bodies. He looked good, he always did. His hair looked a little grey and I must admit, I almost drooled, but looks were the only attraction I would ever feel for him. Emotionally, I was cut off, even when he leaned up close and pressed me into a bone crushing hug.

With a cool smile on his face he asked me confidently what I was doing here and how I’d been. I told him a friend of a friend had invited me along to come celebrate an old friend’s birthday, that I didn’t really want to drink tonight and was just trying to enjoy myself.

I could see his hesitation when an arm slung itself over my shoulders, curly brown hair tickling my cheek and a kind smile flashing towards him and somehow in our conversation, I forgot the most important update in my life, one I’d make sure he’d never forget.

“Who’s this?” He asked kindly, ready to introduce himself even though we were all well aware everyone in the room knew him by name.

“Oh, Harry, how rude of me!” I laughed at the time, but I’m still not sure if he could hear it over the music. I hope he did, because it would have been the last time he would hear it.

“Harry, this is my girlfriend.”

#harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x you #harry styles imagine #harry styles fluff #harry styles angst #yn x harry #harry x reader #harrystyles #harr

[presidentbungus]

i’m still trying to decide what exactly demo does after the war. i do think he breaks the degroot cycle and i do think there’s a chance his mum disowns him for it. i think he realizes he’s too miserable to ruin a kid pretty early on in adulthood and decides it’s worth it to sit through every long lecture about bloodlines and grandchildren over birthing a child into a loveless marriage and making it just as miserable as he is (which, he eventually comes to terms with, is exactly what happened to him)

it’s hard. cleaving yourself from your family like that, your clan, the people that brought you into the world and half-raised you and filled your head with all kinds of funny ideas about honor. after the war i thjnk he just shuts himself off from the world and sulks for months and months and months regretting his choice, knowing he can never go back, figuring this is the path of unluck he was following all along, destined to die alone in his thirties to alcohol poisoning in a huge mansion he has all to himself. eventually, though, someone does come along. soldier or scout or engie, in town for a visit and they won’t take no for an answer when tavish tries to tell them he’s moved on and he’s not really in the mood for a drink. it’s just one night, they just go get smashed at a random dive bar off the street and probably end the night in jail, but he wakes up the next morning and realizes that whatever it was tipped the single upright nail barely keeping aloft this whole massive pile of misery and self-pity and for the first time in months he wants to live. he wants to know people. he wants to try to rebuild what he had even if it’ll never be the same again

i think he just packs his bags and moves closer to someone he knows, honestly. makes a few calls and picks up and goes closer to wherever everyone else he knew in the war fucked off to, the closest thing he ever had to a family (even compared to the people that raised him), and starts to rebuild his life from scratch. it’s hard but he’s got at least one friend near him who’s probably in need of a project anyway, and he finds out quickly he had much more family than he thought as his coworkers start becoming parents and uncles of their own, and he never ends up having his own kids but he might as well considering how many times he finds himself godfathered, after everything he’d done for everyone, which turns out to be much more than he thought.

i think eventually he manages to get a job teaching high school chemistry or something stupid like that. not for anything resembling loose change, but it’s something to do, and there’s just a little bit of pride in knowing his mum’s probably doing flips in her grave every time he goes into work. he’s not great at teaching what he’s supposed to, but somehow the kids always come out of the class scoring twice the national average on whagever standardized tests they have to take, and he’s basically paying the school to work there below board anyway, buying buildings and funding school supply initiatives with the millions he has stocked up from all that thankless work in his twenties and thirties. even if he doesn’t have a kid of his own he makes himself a part of so many kid’s lives, not just teaching but building relationships, helping with homework and checking on home lives and showing up on the soccer field afterschool to cause a disturbance. and well it’s hard to feel like you’re a horrible useless person when every student you pass on the way to the teacher’s lounge beams at you and tells you about their day. it’s not much to a lot of people but it’s everything to him, finally something he can do that has a tangible positive effect on people’s lives, and that gives him a reason to stay upright, too, keep on trucking, keep being a positive example for every bright eye that looks up to him. for the first time in his life he feels like he’s worth something, without pretending to be something he’s not, bending over backwards in work he doesn’t enjoy to please someone who never loved him for anything he was in the first place. ok that’s it i think i have to go cry now

#bungus headcanons #tf2 #tf2 demoman #copied mostly directly from discord im sure you can tell #IM NORMAL ABOUT HIM. IM AVERAGE. #and none of this is projecting whatsoever. i don’t even know what you’re talking about

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

am i the asshole for still wanting my plushes back?

the people involved in this story are me (currently 22m, he/him), and my sibling J (currently 23nb, they/them), and this story happened while we were children, couldn't be older than 7 or 8. i am also autistic, and have very strong attachments to objects, especially plushes, so keep that in mind.

so J and i are not blood related, they lived in an awful situation with their bio mom and grandma until they joined my family when we were about 3 and 4. i think of them as my real sibling, and we are pretty close now, so this is pretty low stakes overall.

because of the neglect and spoiling that their previous caretakers raised them with, the first few years J was settling into our family were difficult, to say the least. they were super fussy, materialistic, and downright mean and entitled. i know this is a cruel thing to say about a mistreated child, especially since they are not like this anymore and regret it now, but it was true at the time. i was a very social and cheerful kid, and i had an older sister too, so i knew better how to treat other kids. i was really gung ho about having a new sibling, and wanted to make friends with them right away, but they did not share that sentiment.

one game i really liked to play (that definitely sparked my love of escape rooms later in life) was a clue-trail scavenger hunt thing where you would follow the clues one after another and eventually find the prize at the end. my parents set up a few of those for us over my childhood, and i got fascinated with it and wanted to set up them up for myself.

i tried multiple times to get J to play my scavenger hunt with me, since i was proud of the hiding spots and the rhymes i wrote on the clues, but they were very icy to me and often refused any game i wanted to play.

so i got an idea, to entice them to play, by making some of my pokemon plushes the grand prizes at the end of the hunt.

now you have to keep in mind, this was the mid-2000s, these pokemon plushes are choice collectors items and they do not make them like this anymore. and after a generous birthday gift from my aunt when i was maybe 6, i had a bountiful selection of them, that i knew J was bitterly jealous of, and sometimes would try and steal.

so i knew this would work as a carrot to get them to play with me, and it did! but they were only playing so they could have the prize, so every time i wanted to play again, i would have to offer up another one of my plushes, and eventually i ran out of all the ones we agreed were good or interesting, and now as an adult, the few i have remaining from my massive childhood collection are the ugly ones, and it makes me really sad to see how gutted it is from its former glory.

over the years, we've gotten a lot closer and J's nasty childhood attitude has all but disappeared, and i feel safe saying we're besties and get along fantastically.

i asked a few times as we got older and i remembered this occurance if i could have the plushes back, though, and they've always responded with a vehement No. they say i gave it to them fair and square, and they consider them a gift from me. i've tried pointing out that i only did it cause it was the only way i could get them to play with me when we were kids, and i kinda regretted giving away such valuable things when i was too young to really think about it. J always got upset at that point and said they didnt like thinking about how they used to be and it wasn't fair that i brought that into the conversation.

i 100% see how i could be the asshole here, since i did technically give the plushes to them, but i still kinda think its not fair of J to not even consider giving some back, because i was a dumb kid who just wanted to connect with my mean sibling. i try not to bring up how they used to act anymore, though, because i can understand how it hurts them to think about, but it is relevant in this specific situation.

i haven't asked them for the plushes back in a long time, but i was thinking about it again. and this is pretty low stakes, it wont ruin our relationship or anything, so tumblr, aita for still thinking J should give them back?

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole