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#god i feed stray cats right
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Sorry to drop in unannounced. But this guy on the bus, he was so bald. I could almost see his brain. I had to take the edge off before things got weird, and you were closest.
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cleo-fox · 5 months
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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.
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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.
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vampiric-tempt · 5 months
Text
❝ [a normal cat...] ❞
✦ oneshot : raiden x catshifter!reader
╰ ➤ fluff, gn reader, implied smut, nudity
(♡) synopsis: raiden trained in dedication at the wu shi academy and the academy's cat always seemed to follow him everywhere. He never thought much of it until one day, the cat turned out to be something else as a naked and rather extremely attractive person, sat on his lap where the cat previously was.*ੈ✩‧₊˚
a/n: Oml this was so fun to write! I hope you guys enjoy this story and yes, there's no full on descriptive smut in this so sorry hehe
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༉‧₊˚✧Raiden's hand ducked under the table, handing you a piece of his breakfast while the champions talked. You happily accepted it and meowed at the man which caught the attention of the others.
Johnny raised a brow. "That cat's always around, huh. Who does it even belong to?"
"Does it matter," Kenshi spoke up, clicking his tongue to catch your attention. You smiled and decided to indulge in his actions, walking over to brush your head against his hand. "What if it's just a stray who likes to wander this area? Either way, I heard the monks take care of them. Their name is Y/n, I think."
Raiden smiles, looking down at you. "Y/n seems to enjoy our company."
Kung Lao scoffs. "Yeah right! They nearly bit me yesterday, I think they like you the most Raiden."
"You think?" He says, innocent eyes gleaming as he watched you trot back to him.
The champions then continued to eat their breakfast, making sure they were ready for another day's training while you sat yourself amongst Raiden's lap. His hand would brush against you and feed you bits of food every now and then. You could say you were being selfish, taking advantage of your cat form just to get close to your crush. But it quickly ended when Liu Kang announced that training would begin. You couldn't help but glare at the god. Raiden carefully picked you up, petting your head before walking toward the training grounds. Unfortunately, as you tried to follow him out the door, Liu Kang's foot blocked your path.
"Y/n," He gave you a stern look, almost like a parent scolding their child.
"What?" You whispered back.
"It's rather immature for you to be doing this. When will you introduce yourself to them normally?"
You huff, sitting down with an obvious annoyance portrayed by your tail. "I just don't wanna, plus, Raiden won't give me as much attention as he does now."
Liu kang rolls his eyes and lifts you up. You unwillingly let him, ears tucked back. "You're just like your previous self." He sighs.
"Oh really, how was I like in the prior timeline?"
"Obsessed with Raiden and always clinging to him." He says with amusement. "I thought maybe you'd be more tame this time, but you're exactly the same."
You chuckle. "Y/n's always gotta be Y/n."
"Unfortunately." Liu Kang smiles, carrying you over to where the men were training. He held you in his arms while observing the champions stances. You felt proud watching how attentive Raiden was in his movements. He was very dedicated to his role.
"Have you decided on who earth realm's champion will be?" You ask.
Liu kang hums, his own hand brushing along your fur. "I have decided, yes. But I'd rather keep it to myself until the time arrives."
You nod in understanding, turning your gaze back to the champions, eyes glued to one in particular. He was the sweetest man you've ever laid your eyes on. You could remember clearly when Liu Kang first arrived with the initiatives and your heart thumped. It was like love at first sight and because of it, you feared of showing them your human form, especially to Raiden.
You snapped out of your thoughts noticing the orange hue of the sunset. "Has time truly passed this quickly?" You questioned to yourself.
Liu Kang then placed your small body back onto the ground. You look up to him and he tilts his head in the direction of Raiden, a small smile on his face. You stuck your tongue out at him and quickly padded your way after him.
Raiden hadn't noticed you following him, your small paws making it extremely difficult for him to hear you, but you halted your steps as you saw him turn into the path that led straight to the Wu Shi hot springs. Your mind quickly flourished with many thoughts of Raiden's physic and you suddenly felt light-headed.
"Should I follow him? Ugh I'm such a creep. What will he think if I showed him my human form? Would he still like me?!"
You cursed under your breath, tiny paws taking slow steps one after another until you arrived to the hot springs. And there he was, his chest and lower half submerged in the hot liquid. Your mouth went dry as your cat like eyes stared at him. He was completely unaware, head tilted back with his eyes shut, a small smile on his face as he let out a satisfied sigh.
You slowly approached him, knowing damn well all he had was a white little towel around his waist to cover him. Your paws dapped the water, testing the temperatures before entering. Even though it was shallow, your tiny body felt as if it were a lake. Tiny paws swishing in the water to keep you afloat.
Raiden's eyes flickered open, seeing you swimming in tiny circles. "Y/n?" He calls. "I thought cats didn't like water." He chuckles.
You meow, because what else could you possibly do without freaking him out.
He then moves forward and your brain short-circuits. "Oh lord, oh lord, his body!!!" You internally squeal. His hands wrap around your tiny frame and pulls you close to his chest and your eyes were stunned. "Why did I do this to myself!"
He cuddles you into his chest, content with relaxing in the hot springs with you, but you were having an internal war in your head. Dirty thoughts swarming and torturing your mind.
In a panic, a soft poof sound erupts out of nowhere, pink smoke enveloping the entirety of the hot springs.
Raiden coughed a little, swatting away the strange pink smoke until the place had finally cleared. He placed his hands back on what he assumed would be the cat but was met with a bare. . . human chest. His hands now on someone's waist rather than a cats.
Your eyes met his and silence filled the area aside from the noises of the nightly critters. You gulped, fear consuming you as your legs were around Raiden's thighs, hands on his shoulder. "H-hi." You say nervously.
Raiden in complete shock, trails his eyes from your head to your waist and then back up at you. Quickly, his hands fly to his sides and his eyes shut. "I'm sorry!" He yells. "Um- who are you, if you don't mind me asking?" He questions, eyes still screwed shut.
"Y/n." You say feeling awkward about the whole situation, but you couldn't bring yourself to pull away.
"T-the cat. . .?" Raiden's eyes hesitantly open back up, quickly training them to only look at your face.
You nod. "I'm friend's with Liu Kang. . . I was supposed to introduce myself when you guys got here, but I never did- properly at least."
Raiden nods his head slowly and purses his lips. He was doing everything in his power not to get a boner from the way your ass was sat atop of him, a mere white towel separating you two.
"Umm," He looks away. "It's nice to finally meet you then, Y/n."
"Yeah same. I wasn't supposed to transform just now though. . ." Your voice trails off. "Perhaps a malfunction. . .?" You whisper to yourself, brows furrowed in thought.
Your eyes quickly shoot to Raiden's as you feel his hands place themselves on your hips. He gives you a sheepish smile, before guiding you off of him and standing. "I'll get you a towel, please stay here." He bows quickly and rushes off.
You watch him, eyes looking at his ass for a bit before your palms slap your flushed face. "God, I'm such a creep!"
By the time he came back, he helped you out of the hot spring and covered you up with the towel. You noticed how he had his attire back on besides his jacket. "Here," He gestures the fabric toward you. "It's going to be cold on the way back."
Your eyes flicker between the jacket and him, gingerly taking it from his hands and draping it around you. "Thank you." You look away in embarrassment.
Raiden smiles. "We should had back, it's late."
You agree, both you and Raiden walking back toward the academy grounds. You felt a little guilty as Raiden stood out in the cold, shirtless. It was a peculiar situation, you and Raiden casting each other glances without each other knowing. Raiden had to admit that you were extremely attractive and he never thought his mind would be addled with such lovey dovey scenarios. Perhaps in his younger days, but now? He had never pondered on such things till he laid his eyes on you.
Raiden cleared his throat. "Should I walk you back to where you stay?" He asks.
"No it's okay. I'd rather you get back first, after all I'm technically of higher status. I must make sure the champions are taken care of, then I'll head back to Lord Liu Kang." You say, head turning to look at Raiden. Raiden had his brows furrowed in thought and it worried you. "Is something wrong Raiden?" You ask.
He hesitates for a moment. "I um. . . you're relationship with Lord Liu Kang. . . is it-"
"We're just close friends, nothing more. Why? Are you looking to start something?" You tease him a little, your confidence growing as you grew more comfortable in your human form.
Raiden raises his hands up in embarrassment. "No no, I mean. . . it does sound nice. You're very attractive and I- nevermind. I'm rambling, sorry."
You chuckle and notice you guys arrived to Raiden's room.
Raiden lets out a disappointed sigh. "I'll be seeing you then?" He says.
You shift in your spot, hand gripping onto his jacket. Your eyes shifting to the distance and then back to Raiden. You so badly didn't want this interaction to end, craving more time with the kind man.
"If it's not too much. Perhaps I could stay the night?" You nervously looked to him and his eyes widened.
His hand scratched the back of his neck, a creeping blush upon his features. "O-of course. You can definitely stay the night!" He says a bit more excited than he intended to.
He opens the door for you and you bow walking through. The scent of his room filling your nostrils. You smiled seeing how organized and clean it was.
"Someone knows how to take care of themselves." You give a halfhearted laugh.
Raiden chuckles. "I try, afterall I'm just a guest here."
You hum, sitting yourself on his bed. You were going to unzip Raiden’s jacket but halted, realizing that all you had was a towel to cover yourself without it. Raiden seemed to notice your concern and blinked in thought. "Sorry, maybe we didn't think-"
You were quick to cut him off, raising a hand to silence him. "It's okay. . .if you're okay with it. . ."
Raiden gulps. "I uh, yeah. I'm okay with it." He says, eyes watching how you began to strip yourself to nothing. And boy did Raiden keel over at the sight. You smirked and gestured your head to him, waiting for him to shed his clothing too.
By the time both you and Raiden settled on the bed, it was evident that it was not going to be a simple sleepover. Your body quickly going over his. “I might be selfish, but I don’t think I wanna just sleep here.” You whisper, ghosting your lips over Raiden’s. Your hand trailing up his arm to his neck.
Raiden’s eyes looked down at your lips, eyes now half-lidded, his breath becoming more heavy at the sexual tension. “I don’t think I just want to sleep either.” He says, hands massaging the sides of your body, his hardened dick swelling with need.
And your lips were on each other, hands passionately exploring each other's bodies throughout the night. The room was filled with the sounds of passionate sex, two lovers eager to discover more about each other and please each other beyond words as the night went on.
However, the next morning was extremely hectic as Raiden was swarmed with questions on what he did last night- hickeys littering his neck and collarbone.
Liu Kang slowly turned his head to you in your cat form with the biggest smirk a cat could ever have.
"Y/n." He calls your name in a serious tone.
"Yeahhh???" :3
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╰┈➤ masterlist
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fairyhaos · 2 months
Text
seventeen and which mythical beings they are
requested by @mesanthropi ^^ physically held myself back from going on rants for shua's and hao's and jeonghan's pls (iykyk)
masterlist
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seungcheol
vampire. formidable, mysterious vampire seungcheol from a powerful family name who lives in a huge, ominous castle and somehow manages to make sucking blood look sexy… shakes he's so fine oh my god. honestly vampire!cheol with glowing red eyes and an intimidating presence and the most smug fucking smirk in the world is such a vibe, and he also has the whole “i was born centuries and centuries ago” old hag thing down to an art
jeonghan
siren. specifically a mermaid-type siren that lives in the sea and has a pretty iridescent tail. water-dwelling being jeonghan just makes so much sense to me bc he has their fluidity and their peaceful and their mischief and also??? jeonghan with a shimmery mermaid tail and captivating siren voice???? i'd willingly drown myself for him actually, siren song be damned. he has the silvery voice of a siren and the ethereal looks to be one fr
joshua
wood nymph. bambi-eyed wood nymph joshua who communicates with the birds and tends to his forest and has flowers weaved in his hair and stars embedded around his eyes… the nymph!joshua obsession is Real guys and i am definitely a victim of it. curly haired joshua is just sooo wood nymph coded and i can see him as some soft-spoken, pretty being who lives in a birch tree and guides stray travellers when they get lost in his woods
junhui
witch junhui with his black cat familiar and his dented cauldron and his cottage in the middle of the forest!! witch junhui with his mini apothecary and his goofy-sounding spells and his eyebrow permanently half-singed bc his enchantments keep backfiring!! witch junhui with his soft spoken words and bright laugh and total kindness to everyone who happens upon his home!! witch junhui is so so dear to me and he really is just. a witchy little dude
hoshi
shapeshifter. does this idea feed into his furry agenda a bit too much? yeah, it kinda does, but oh my god just imagine tiger shapeshifter hoshi who's part human but can turn into a large, big-fanged and bold-striped tiger at a moment's notice. he really just genuinely gives shapeshifter vibes, and every year he schedules one week where he'll traipse off into the nearest mountains and blow off some steam in his tiger form for seven days
wonwoo
dragon. okay so this is kinda not a humanoid mythical being, but wonwoo is soooo big friendly dragon coded. i can imagine him as a large, red scaly dragon, snoozing atop his massive hoard of gold in a secluded cave in the forest, little wisps of smoke coming out of his nostrils as he snores contentedly. that doesn't mean he can't be scary if he wants to tho, and can burn down any puny humans who try to steal his hoard in the blink of an eye
woozi
demigod. part-god woozi is just such a vibe okay, and he rlly does give off a hercules-type feel, where he can do inhuman things and seems almost untouchable in his awesomeness, even though he's right there in front of you. and he has a hatred of the gods and a mild tolerance for humans but at the end of the day, he appreciates and loves both for all that they do. (also in a percy jackson demigod sense, he is totally an apollo's kid and no i don't make the rules) 
minghao
fae. y'all know how far my fairy minghao agenda runs by now and like ??? can you blame me ???? the idea of sassy smol hao with fairy wings and a squeaky voice is cute and all, but also i just think he fits the idea of the entire tall, mysterious fae folk really well too. with his pointy fae ears and his shrewd gaze and his ability to say half-truths and riddles and give sage advice about how to live your life all at once, he really is very much a fae-like person. 
mingyu
some sort of demon. he's so loud and bright and kind that, despite his huge presence and glowing eyes and the horns protruding out of his mess of fluffy hair, you don't even register that he's some dangerous, hellish creature before something happens and he just snaps, the air around him visibly darkening as he tears after the thing that caused him to lose control. he's so sweet and kind but so undeniably dangerous all at once. 
dokyeom
elf. i'm thinking lord of the rings elves, except i haven't actually watched lord of the rings but i have this idea of them being tall and rich and elegant beings, and it makes me think of dokyeom. he's just so pretty, and the elves rely on the natural elements to survive, right? dokyeom is just so sunbeams peeking through forest leaves, so little rabbits bounding through the undergrowth, so hand-whittled arrows and folk songs around a campfire and tall, tall, beautiful elves. 
seungkwan
will o’ the wisp or a sprite. he's endearing and mysterious, and once you gain his favour he's staying glued to ur shoulder for the entirety of your dangerous quest through the magical woods. he's very chatty and also very elusive, constantly flitting around in the air and disappearing in a wink of light before appearing on your nose once again. you can't tell if he's a help or a hindrance, but he's cute and bright and makes the journey a lot better
vernon
a smurf. smurfs count as mythical beings okay, and while ive never actually watched any smurf movie thing ever, i think vernon would make an absolutely brilliant smurf. they give off silly goofy weird adorable vibes, and that's basically vernon in a nutshell. also smol vernon with blue skin and lives in a mushroom looking house??? that's kinda cute and actually something that vernon might wanna do irl not gonna lie
chan
nine-tailed fox. he's so mysterious and sexy and kind of dangerous but like. his unbelievable handsomeness kinda outweighs the danger. honestly i don't really have an explanation for this other than that the Vibes r there for some reason and he'd look so cool with those glittery wisps of magic threading through the air around him as his eyes glow a mysterious colour before he launches into a kdrama-esque fight sequence against the latest monster
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reactions tags: @weird-bookworm @minhui896 @bunnyiix @slytherinshua @haowrld @belladaises @newgirlygirl @moonlitskiiies @mirxzii @wonranghaeee @yonabutnotyuna @crackedpumpkin @wqnwoos @kthstrawberryshortcake-main @kawennote09 @a-wandering-stay @icyminghao @valenhui @sweet-like-caramel @odxrilove @kyeomyun @chansburgah @pepperonijem @jeonride @kellesvt @hanniehaee @astrozuya @eightlightstar @onlyyjeonghan @aaniag @amxlia-stars @all-american-fangirl @f1uffyjun @zilinxue
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baechira-is-my-love · 11 months
Text
blue lock boys when you bring home a stray kitten
hii again >_< i'm a huge cat person!!! so i wrote these headcanons about how bllk boys would react if you bought home a cute lil kitten! i would personally prefer a ragdoll/persian mixed kitten but most of the strays here are tabbies!! anyways i don't mind since i love all cats 💕💕💕
also thank you sooo much for my last post!! even tho it was my first post i received a lot of reactions <333 ilysm guys!
this includes: isagi, bachira, rin, sae
gn reader!!
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Isagi:
You come home, after a harsh and tiring day of work
with a smol surprise :3
"Hey baby, I'm back home. Where are you, Yoichi?"
As soon as he enters, he sees the little kitten in your arms.
boy rlly said ":00000"
he rushes to you, taking a look at the kitten in your arms.
the kitten hissed at him obviously as a defense mechanism.
"it's okay, baby" you cooed at the tiny kitten as you held it closer to your chest.
"i found it on the streets, poor thing was roaming around, crying for food!"
you eventually get the kitten to like yoichi
you go to the store and buy lots of cat food
bath with the kitten and isagi!! <333
"interrupt my play time and i'll interrupt your breathing"
sometimes when you're not paying much attention to yoichi (cuz of ur cat) he'll try to grab ur attention
but he gets scratched instead lol
Bachira:
One day, you both were on a date to the park.
You heard some meowing nearby, and decided to go check it out.
Bachira decided to tag along with you.
There, you saw a hurt kitten
It was so thin!
So you decided to take it in! <333
Bachira ended up getting scratched 7 times, but hey! we bagged the baby!!!
on your way back, you bought some cat food <33
as soon as you got home, you both gave the kitty a bath to get it cleaned up
you both made sure to always give it lots of love and care
eventually it warmed up to u both <333
bachira would always play w it after he came back from his practice sessions!
and show it off to everyone!
Rin:
would question god
"what is that?"
would glare at the kitten
which was safely cuddling in your arms
"it's a baby cat, rinnie!" you said with a small pout.
"why would you need to bring it here?"
"it was lost on the streets! it's still a baby, rin! how can it survive alone???"
he seriously doubts if the kitten actually likes you
but no
he rong
it likes you very much!!!
in fact
it never leaves you!! you have to forcefully lock it out of the bathroom when u bath or use the washroom
and u gotta hear its sad cries :(((
but he! he's frustrated with that stupid useless animal!
he doesn't even get any attention, he's so jealous!
Sae:
one fine day, he came home from practice.
but instead of your warm hugs, he found himself face-to-face with a tiny kitten!! <3333
he looks at it quizzically.
"baby, a cat is at the doorstep. is it a stray?"
you poked your head out of the living room
and you explained how u found it so hungry at ur doorstep!
and it was so thin, the poor thing just needed some food!
so you took it in
and rushed to the grocery to buy some food for it
he seriously doubts whether you can actually take care of a living, breathing animal
turns out, he's right.
you function on half a braincell (like me)
so instead he does 90% of the job
buying food, cleaning the litter box, playing with it, giving it a good scrub, feeding it, taking it for a walk
you always try your best to help him
but alas, he shoots death glares at you
kinda opposite of what happened w rinnie
the baby gets too attached to sae
if u guys have an argument you're definitely getting scratched
after seeing sae act lovey-dovey with you, the cat eventually grows to like you
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sunflowergirl522 · 10 months
Text
Fat Cat
Pairing: Eddie Munson x Reader
Summary: Eddie feeds strays and your cat gets out.
Word Count: 2033
A/n: Not my best work but enjoy it anyway? Also the Eddie Taglist may or may not open up after this one.
Eddie Masterlist
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Eddie’s been feeding the strays around the trailer park for as long as he’s been living with his uncle. It started with one skinny kitten coming up to him on the porch while he was eating a hotdog. It let out the softest meow he’d ever heard and he didn’t even hesitate breaking a piece off and dropping it a few feet away from him. Over the years the amount of cats he was feeding grew and scraps of food and leftovers no one was gonna eat became cat food that Eddie went out of his way to get. 
Eddie was cleaning up the first time your cat trailed up to his trailer at night. It was one of Wayne's rules, if you’re gonna feed the whole neighborhood at least clean up at night so I don’t have to hear them when I’m trying to sleep. He happened to look up from where he was picking up the scattered pieces of cat food on the porch and came face to face with the fattest orange cat he’d ever seen. 
“Hello there. You look like you’ve already eaten five whole bowls.” The cat plopped down and just stared at him. “Oh alright, I guess a little more won’t kill you.”
“Oh my God!” You had rushed over as soon as you spotted Tigger scooping him up without even looking at the now wide eyed boy. “You’re such a fucking dick you know that?”
“I’m sorry?”
“Oh! Not you, sorry! I was talking to this fatass.” You finally looked away from the cat and met his eyes. “He recently learned that he can bust through the shitty screen door if it’s not locked. Were you about to give him food?” 
“Uh, I think so?” Eddie wasn’t completely sure what was happening exactly.
“I’m trying to keep him on a diet so hopefully he loses weight. I’m Y/n, just moved into the trailer over that way.” You motioned to a trailer behind you without looking before holding your hand out for him.
“Eddie.” He frantically brushed his hands off on his jeans before standing and taking your own. 
“This menace is Tigger and despite who he’s named after he’s the laziest piece of shit you’d ever see. Isn’t that right baby boy?” You brought his face up to yours as you cooed at the cat in your arms that was purring up a storm. “I’ll let you get back to what it was you were doing, bye Eddie see you around!” And with that you turned and hurried back to your trailer leaving Eddie to wish he’d said something, anything, else.
Since then Tigger has found his way over to Eddie’s trailer at least five more times, but most likely more because those are just times Eddie’s caught him when he’s getting home from work. He’s always quick to scoop the cat up before heading over to your place to drop him off. If you weren’t home he’d leave a note on your door saying he had Tigger and to come get him when you could. But when you were home you’d usher Eddie in and make him dinner as a reward for bringing your baby home. Usually it was some form of pasta but it was always one of the best meals Eddie’s had, and he made sure to tell you. 
“Listen all I’m saying is you’ve been in a suspiciously good mood lately and I don’t get why you’d hide a girlfriend from us.” Dustin says for what feels like the millionth time today but really is only the second, Mike asking earlier makes it three times total, as he follows Eddie to his trailer's door. 
“I’m not hiding a girlfriend. How many times do I have to tell you I don’t have one?” He groans as he fishes out his key to unlock it glancing over quickly to the porch. He does a double take when he recognizes the orange ball. 
“Hey there troublemaker!” He jumps from the stairs and steps to the porch tapping it to get the cat's attention. Tigger turns around at the sound and lets out a small sound while running to Eddie’s hand to be pet. “You get out again?”
“God fucking damnit!” Eddie can hear your yell from your trailer across the way thanks to the door being open and it being a quiet afternoon in the trailer park.
“I’ll take that as a yes.” Eddie smiles as Tigger bumps his head into his hand knowing you’re about to make your way over.
“Are you gonna unlock the door anytime soon or what?” Dustin asks from where he’s been standing at the door.
“Eddie!” Your voice fills his ears before he can respond to Dustin and he turns his head to watch you come towards him, his smile bigger than Dustin’s ever seen. “Please tell me he came over here again.”
“Yep.” He moves out of the way to reveal the cat purring into his hand.
“Thank God! I really have to start locking the door so fatty stops coming over and eating all your food.”
“Don’t be mean.” Eddie snatches Tigger up before you can grab him, protectively holding him close to his chest. “He’s lost weight and deserves a little treat.” That was true, Tigger is now much smaller than he was when Eddie first saw him. Thanks to you taking him on walks, a feat you had to do with his treat bag in hand, and having him on the diet.
“You’re awful, oh my god!” You laugh through your words. “Stop spoiling him before he starts liking you more than he likes me.”
“What am I watching right now?” Dustin pulls the two of your attentions over to him. Eddie throws his head back suppressing a groan at the reminder that he was there at all. 
“Oh hello! I’m Y/n, and that’s my cat Tigger.” 
“I’m Dustin, Eddie’s best friend.”
“Well it’s nice to meet you Dustin.” You smile at the younger boy and Eddie clears his throat to bring your eyes back to him. 
“Has he been gone long?” He nods his head down at the cat in his arms. 
“I don’t know, probably not. I just got out of the shower and the door was cracked open so he must’ve escaped while I was in it.” You step closer to him so you can scratch Tigger behind his ears and Eddie’s heart picks up a bit at your closeness.  “Are you just getting home?”
“Yeah. I was unlocking the door when I spotted him.”
“Oh!” Your sudden exclamation has Eddie and Dustin both slightly jumping. “I finished your book! Let me take him home and I’ll come right back with it and you can give me the next one.” You take Tigger from his arms and hurry off to your trailer.
Eddie had let you borrow Fellowship of the Ring after you stopped by his trailer to talk to him after seeing him reading on the porch. You had noticed how the book looked like it’s been read more than once and Eddie mentioned it being his favorite series. You’re the one who asked to read it and he had shut the book and handed it to you right then and there. 
“So that’s what’s got you in such a good mood.” Dustin states as Eddie comes back up the steps to open the door. 
“Alright c'mon punk inside.” He holds the door open for his younger friend. 
“Why don’t you ask her out?”
“What makes you think I want to ask her out?” He desperately does but he’s not sure exactly how to. Being friends with a girl? That was always easy for him but going from friends to something else with girls? That was always something that was difficult for him but has become so much harder since the Vecna stuff last year seeing as people barely wanted to be seen around him if they weren’t before even after his name was cleared.
“The heart eyes you got the minute she came over and how it was like watching parents fussing over their child.” Eddie tinges pink at Dustin’s correct descriptions. 
“Just shut up and pick a movie. I gotta go find The Two Towers.”
Dustin’s looking through Eddie’s and Wayne’s limited pick of movies, wishing they had stopped by Family Video, when there’s a knock on the door. He knows that it has to be you and in that moment he comes up with a plan without thinking twice about it while he opens the door.
“Hi again!”
“Eddie wants to know if you wanna go on a date with him?”
“What?” Your eyes go wide and you step back a little bit as if the shock of hearing those words come out of Dustin's mouth was so strong that it forced you back. At the same time Eddie freezes in the kitchen, eyes basically bulging out of his head and his mouth agape. What he should do is grab Dustin by the back of his shirt and throw him back into the living room before trying to laugh it off but he can’t get himself to move, stuck in his spot book in hand and heart racing in his chest anxious for what Dustin might say next and how you’re going to react.
“He wants to take you out to dinner or something and then kiss you at your door. Maybe then introduce you to all his friends and move in together and have babies and-” Eddie rushes over and throws his hand over his friend's mouth who’s now on thin ice.
“Okay! That’s enough of that!” He awkwardly chuckles as he shoves Dustin off to the side. He peeks at you out of the corner of his eye before turning to look at you instead of glaring at Dustin when he sees the soft smile on your face.
“Here’s your book. I really really liked it and I can’t wait to read the next one.” Eddie takes your words as a signal that you’re just going to forget everything that was just said to you and he doesn’t know if he’s more disappointed or relieved that you’re not saying anything about it.
“Here.” He hands you the next book while taking the first one from you. “The first one’s my favorite but the rest are just as good.” 
“Hey Eddie?”
“Yeah Sweetheart?”
“There’s this movie coming out next week, The Princess Bride, you wanna maybe take me to see it? Then depending on how that goes we can kiss at my door and maybe you can introduce me to your friends.” Eddie’s mouth opens and closes a few times like a fish out of water as he tries to find the words too shocked to think of anything.
“Yeah, yes, I would love to take you out to see it!” He beams at you once he does find the right words and you return one of your own in response.
“Perfect then it’s a date! See you tomorrow probably.” After a quick finger gun and wave you’re hurrying back home to dance around in excitement with Tigger.
“Well, it looks like you should be thanking me.” Dustin says once Eddie steps back from the door and turns to him, arms crossing over his chest.
“Run.”
“What? But I totally just got you a date!” And yet Dustin’s realizing he may have taken it a little too far in the process of getting him said date.
“And I’ll give you a head start because of that. Starting…now.”
“Why don’t we just watch a movie and celebrate the accomplishment that just happened?”
“You’re wasting precious time.” And with that Dustin rushes out of the door Eddie hot on his heels.
“What happened to the head start?!”
“I lied!” With that he tackles Dustin to the ground, both boys laughing in the process of falling. “Thanks.” He punches his arm after a minute of them both just laying there on the ground and stands up offering a hand. “Now let’s go have that movie night you begged me for.” Dustin rolls his eyes following Eddie back inside.
Eddie Taglist(Closed): @sadbitchfangirl​ @notbeforelong​​ @munsonswhore86​​ @navs-bhat​ @emotionaldreamer​ ​​​​​ @fangirling-4-ever​  @gaysludge​ @audhd-dragonaut​ ​​ ​@eddiethesexy​ @mazerunnerrose​ @tvserie-s-world​ @midnightsgetawaycar  @goldylions  @spacedoutdaydreamer @mushroomelephant @saramelaniemoon @kaylshunter @nojamsonmytoast @vintagehellfire @esoltis280 @spikedhe4rt @let-love-bleeds-red @siriuslysmoking @toobsessedsstuff @alana4610 @gretavanfleas @sparkletash @aactuaaltraash @spookyemorockbabe
Everything Taglist: @matchamunson @bubsonnobx @practicalghost @katsukis1wife @crustyowos @yourfavdummy @protecteddiemunson4vr @kennedy-brooke
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anonymous-dentist · 3 months
Text
It's a rainy Saturday evening, and Cellbit is alone in his apartment agonizing over his bills yet again (it's hard to pay rent when you're a convicted felon unable to hold a goddamn job.) His dinner is cold and uneaten in front of him, and the news is playing quietly on his phone on the other side of the room: another bank robbery, oh, wow, cool.
Cellbit, as usual, is completely alone. He's an orphan, he has no friends, his neighbors are all either dead or at work. No pets. No one.
He glances up from his bills when there's a light knocking at his door. With one last look at the bullshit in front of him, Cellbit pushes back from the kitchen table with a sigh. He cracks his neck, messes his hair up, grimaces and flattens it again, and then he goes to answer the door.
He opens the door to thin air.
And then he looks down and sees a young boy in an oversized yellow football jersey looking up at him through his hair, a smile on his face.
"Uh," says Cellbit. "Can I help you?"
The boy sticks a chubby hand out, rocking back onto his heels. "Hi, I'm Richarlyson!"
Cellbit only hesitates a little before crouching and sagely accepting the hand and shaking it. (He likes kids, so what?)
"Where are your parents, Richarlyson?" he asks.
Richarlyson's smile only widens in response. "Right here! You're my dad!"
Cellbit laughs, he can't help it. "Yeah, funny."
He stands and puts his hands in his pockets. He looks down the hallway and sees nobody, not even any of the usual rats.
"I'm being serious!" Richarlyson huffs. He stomps his little foot, cheeks puffing out in annoyance. "Here, I'll show you!"
And then he pushes his way into the apartment, ducking past Cellbit and running to hop onto Cellbit's couch. He pulls his backpack off and starts filtering through it without a care.
Oh, God, no.
Cellbit follows Richarlyson in and closes the door behind him, reaching for his phone on the table and closing the news. He can-not have some random runaway kid in his apartment, that's basically a jail sentence already.
"See, once upon a time there were all these fairy tales, right?" Richarlyson asks. He pulls a hoodie- blue, oversized- from his backpack and tosses it aside. "But then they all disappeared!"
"Fairy tales," Cellbit politely says. "Right."
"But I know what happened to them! The Evil King made them all lose their memories, including-"
"Don't you mean the Evil Queen?"
Richarlyson frowns. "Don't be sexist."
Cellbit blinks, mildly taken aback. His finger hovers over the phone app, ready to call the police. When Richarlyson isn't looking at him.
"Anyway," Richarlyson continues, turning back to his backpack, "as I was saying, the Evil King cast a spell and made everybody forget who they were, including you."
...So maybe Cellbit should call an ambulance instead.
But, before Cellbit can try anything, Richarlyson makes a triumphant noise and pulls a big, heavy-looking storybook out of his backpack. He hops off the couch and runs to Cellbit, holding the book out for him to take.
Cellbit looks at the book, and then he looks at the kid, and then he looks at his phone and starts calling the police.
Richarlyson shouts and slaps the phone out of his hand. "No! Listen to me!"
Cellbit scowls and bends down to pick his phone up. "I'm calling your parents."
"Are you deaf?" Richarlyson demands. He smacks Cellbit hard upside the back of his head with his book. "I just said you're my dad!"
Cellbit yelps and clutches the back of his head, still crouched. He glares at the kid.
"I don't even know you," he says.
"Yeah, because the Evil King made you not know me. He made everybody forget, and now everybody is in danger! You need to come help everybody before it's too late!"
"I'm not a hero," Cellbit tells him. He snatches his phone up again, finally. "Which of your parents can I call? It's either them or the police, and I do not want to deal with them tonight."
(Especially not after they caught him trying to feed the stray cats outside of the bus station earlier that evening, ouch, he's going to be sore in the morning...)
Richarlyson's eyes light up. "You're a criminal? Cool!"
"Not cool. Crime is not cool."
(It is.)
"You're supposed to be a hero, though," Richarlyson muses. He frowns again, thoughtful. He drops to the ground, cross-legged, and he opens his book and starts flipping through it. "I remember reading that."
Okay, no phone number from the kid himself. That's fine. Cellbit likes to fancy himself a bit of an amateur detective (he's played enough Ace Attorney for it, anyway.) He can find the number himself.
While Richarlyson reads, Cellbit sneaks around him and tiptoes to the couch. Picking up the kid's abandoned backpack, Cellbit starts silently going through it looking for any kind of identification- a bus pass, a school I.D., anything.
"What's your last name?" he asks.
"Dunno," Richarlyson responds, nose deep in his book. "None of my dads really have one. Unless you do?"
He looks up, wide-eyed and hopeful.
Cellbit carefully hides the backpack from view.
"Legally, no," he answers. "But you should know that if you're really my son."
Richarlyson glowers. "It's not my fault the Evil King sent you all the way over here instead of letting you stay with us!"
'Us', okay, that implies a family. That's a good start.
Cellbit relaxes against the back of the couch. "With you, you and your mom?"
"Nope, me and Pai Forever and Pai Felps and Pais Tazer e Craft and Mãe Bagi."
Cellbit blinks. "So I'm not your father."
"No, you are. Now shush, I'm researching."
Richarlyson puts his finger to his lips; Cellbit acquiesces, miming pulling a zipper across his lips.
Speaking of researching...
Cellbit starts rummaging through the backpack again. Now that he has some names to work with, it'll be easier to find some kind of identification, right?
His hand brushes against a hard piece of plastic tucked into the backpack's front-most pocket. Bingo.
Pulling it out, Cellbit looks it over until he finds a 'Forever' and an address, but no phone number.
Quesadilla City, hmm. That's unfamiliar.
"Found you!" Richarlyson announces.
He runs to Cellbit's side, book clutched to his chest. He hops onto the couch and sits next to him, legs swinging as he places his book in his lap.
Cellbit has always been a painfully curious man, so he can't help but look down and see what fairy tale Richarlyson has decided he is.
His face falls.
Puss-in-Boots.
"Yeah, no," Cellbit scowls. He stands and drops Richarlyson's backpack onto the floor, heading to the kitchen to grab his jacket off of the back of a chair and his keys from off of the counter. "You're going home. Get your stuff."
"So you're gonna help?" Richarlyson asks. He does, at least, start packing his bag up again.
"No, I'm taking you home, and then I'm coming back here to my home so my landlord can kill me when I don't pay my rent this month."
"What, you're broke?"
"I'm not discussing my financial situation with a child."
"Even though I'm your son?"
Richarlyson scurries to the door, waiting for Cellbit to open it before rushing out into the hallway.
"You aren't my son," Cellbit sighs. He shuts and locks the door behind the two of them, already grimacing at how much he'll have to pay for gas trying to get Richarlyson to wherever Quesadilla City is. "I've never even had a partner."
"Not here, you haven't."
Cellbit trips over his own shoelace, bristling at Richarlyson's giggle.
"Come on, let's go! You've got a world to save!"
Cellbit yelps as Richarlyson grabs him by the arm and starts pulling him out of the building and towards the parking lot.
Fairy tales, yeah, right. Cellbit's lived long enough to know better than to believe in happily-ever-afters, let alone evil kings or fantasy curses. Happy endings aren't real. Especially not for him.
-
Or, the Once Upon a Time AU
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hyunverse · 1 year
Text
college boyfriend! ☆ stray kids hyung line.
stray kids hyung line x gn! reader. contains: fluff, headcanons. no warnings ahead! disclaimer — © 2023 hyunverse on tumblr. all rights reserved. authors works are protected under the copyright law. do not plagiarize or translate my works. tumblr is my only platform.
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BANG CHAN...
majors in music. he's set on being a sound engineer, thus spending hours in the music lab. if he doesn't answer your texts for hours, you know where to find him. just head to the music lab and you'll find him writing lyrics. (that are most likely inspired by you!)
we've all established this but this man overworks, alright. forgets about the concept of time. you'd have to bring him lunch and drag him out by dinner. because if you don't, this man will panic when he sees the clock strike 10 pm and nobody's in the campus. even more panic when he remembers he has an eight a.m class the next day.
god forbid if you're the one studying too much though... not under his watch! he’ll make sure you have all your three meals! remembers your class schedule, even your exam schedule. takes you for rewards after your study sessions. ice cream at the closest froyo store, croffles at the campus cafe... you name it!
your full time driver. he would not let you walk! not under his watch! grocery runs, doctor's appointment, club activity... your faculty is a ten minute walk from your dorm, yet he will insist on driving you to your faculty. if you insist on reducing carbon emissions — he’ll gladly walk with you.
would 100% gift you a bike to go to class with too. chan would do anything in his power to make life easier for you. whether it be driving you anywhere you want, ordering food for you, or even make a doctor’s appointment for you — he does these little things just to ease some burden off you.
he's a great study buddy. you're guaranteed to get your work done with him. he'd slip in encouraging notes between your text book pages, and would grab a quick snack between sessions. if he sees you get too stressed, he'll take your hand and soothingly rub them as he whispers encouraging words.
LEE KNOW...
biggest tease, truly! the kind of boyfriend to stick his tongue out at you when you walk past him in the corridors.
doesn't mean he's not a softie as well! sometimes he’d cook you lunch boxes, especially for the days where you have non stop classes. yes, he loves being a pain in your ass, but he also loves you <3 would do anything to see the joy in your face as he hands you a lunchbox <3
he enjoys doing chores with you. whether it be buying groceries, or doing the laundry at the laundromat, he enjoys having you as company as he does them. it's a sunday routine for the two of you to get groceries together, then do your laundry. the day ends with him making dinner for the two of you.
minho would take you on walks, in pursuit of stray cats. he'd bring some treats along, and feed any strays you both find in the neighbourhood. this happens so often, that the neighbourhood ladies have grown fond of the two of you!
overtime, you'd end up adopting a cat with him. it just couldn't be helped! the sweet kitten keeps on following the two of you... how could minho not take it home? lets you name the cat just to see you happy.
also i feel like he'd get twitter just to slander you. picture this, you wake up on a random day and see a twitter notification. turns out it's just your boyfriend mentioning you in a tweet that says something like, "y/n stinks." it's fun to him.
occasionally tags you in pictures of cats and bunnies though.
SEO CHANGBIN...
such a dependable boyfriend, truly.
car broke down? call him, he'll know what to do. forgot to print out your assignments? e-mail him the file and sit tight, he'll print them out for you. the sink is leaking? he knows who to call. he's a dependable boyfriend, willing to do anything for you.
though dependable, he absolutely loves being babied. finds the most comfort in holding you.
just finished class? he's calling for u to come over and cuddle. he just got back from the gym? going straight to your dorm to cuddle. he is touch starved and you need to entertain him.
takes you out for shopping sprees! it's okay if your money is tight for the month, his credit card exists for a reason. for you to abuse of course! if you refuse, he'll say that it's reward for studying today.
sometimes you'll randomly receive a package by the door and it's from him. your eyes would linger at an item for a second longer and he'd immediately buy it and have it sent to you.
he's the type of person to visit his family every weekend. no, you won't find him in his dorm on a saturday. he had most likely drove to his parents' for the weekend. overtime, when you get more serious in your relationship, he'd take you to his weekly visits home.
brings you to his mama and would adoringly watch you cook with her.
if there's a weekend he comes home and you don't, his mother will literally ask for you. so you might as well just visit every weekend!
it's okay because weekends spent at his = less money to spend on food.
HWANG HYUNJIN...
roommates to lovers trope
how could he not fall in love with you, his roommate who’s so sweet, and so caring?
a shy boyfriend, yet he doesn't shy away from little gestures of affection in public! holds your hand as you stroll, also fond of putting his hand in your back pocket. he'd happily wait by your lecture hall, a cup of your favourite drink in hand. imagine him in a varsity jacket, hair a little messy, leaning against the wall as he waits for you to finish your lecture. as soon as he spots you, you’d see his eyes turn just a little brighter, and his smile growing a tad bit bigger.
memorizes your schedule by heart. him texting: “you in economics right now? it ends in ten minutes, right? i’ll bring your favourite drink <3” is a normal occurence.
all of your friends adore him. how could they not? he’s shy, respectful, and treats you well. buys you flowers for no reason. you’ll come home and see a bouquet of fresh flowers in a vase, with a cute little note from him <3 would doodle in the note too hehe.
impromptu dates, always! he’d wake you up from a nap and show you that he already set up an indoors picnic. a blanket sprawled in the living room, with your favorite snacks lined up. brings you to a flower field he discovered on a random monday, after class.
hyunjin's the type of boyfriend that would walk around with you, in search of new places you can call your spot. so far, he has three “our spot”, them being a flower field, a cafe that’s a hidden gem, and a secluded table by a window in the college library.
shares his clothes with you. you share a house together, might as well just mix the laundry and freely use each other’s clothes! pull up to college in a sweatshirt of his, and he’ll coo and call you his sweet angel. still gets butterflies every time he sees you in his clothes!! which is pretty much everyday!! still!! he thinks you look so cute in them.
if your jackets don’t fit him, he’ll just tie them around his waist. just wants a piece of you with him, really.
he’s an art major. you’re consistently his subject of art, especially when the assignment is a portrait! uses his assignments as an excuse to paint you. the reward is kisses.
listening to music together in the train to campus. one earbud in his ear, another in yours. you two thrive in comfortable silence, just leaning against each other as soft music plays in your ears.
slow dancing sessions to relieve stress. just swaying with him in the living room, the sound of your giggles filling in the atmosphere.
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volturissideslut · 11 months
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What if the Humans adopt a child just to see what’s so special about humans and why the Cullens like them so much, not knowing how troublesome a 8 year old can be?
𝖁𝖔𝖑𝖙𝖚𝖗𝖎
strap in because this is going to be one hell of a ride (also I'm assuming asker meant volturi adopt a chaotic human child)
Aro, ever the curious one, cannot even fathom why dear Carlisle cares so much for these... creatures
And it's been like over 3000 years since he was human and he can't really remember much about living
It would also help if it would stop making Marcus be such a miserable slab of stone, and perhaps even Caius could do with a new toy
It just seemed like destiny when an 8 year old child strayed from the feeding group one day, too entertained by chasing a fat tabby cat that had jumped the wall to the garden
Whatever parent or guardian that came with seemingly hadn't noticed - not that they were alive long enough too
And, of course, Felix was the one to deliver the child to Master Aro considering he's the only one with a modium of decorum or respect for life in the castle
Any of the other guards would have eaten you on sight to be honest (they wouldn't in the future but you're just some random human child right now, they don't care about you yet)
Aro takes one look at you're little form, sticky fingers; muddy knees; grazed elbows; a leaf in your hair
Perfect
They're keeping you
easy, right?
wrong
Why is a overexcited yet hysterical human child such a lovable inconvenience, you may ask
well
1) none of them can fully keep track of you're emotions,why are children so confusing???
2) they can't fully keep track of your whereabout either
"HOW ON EARTH DID YOU GET OF THE ROOF YOU HEATHEN CHILD" - Caius probably
3) they know nothing, and I mean nothing, about humans. Expect them to ask the secratery for help next time you're sobbing, only to find out you're hungry because they haven't fed you a proper meal in days thinking you'd forage for it yourself
I swear Marcus is the only one who is knowledgeable, despite how small it is
"the child requires sustinence again" - Jane, fed up of this shit
4) they're used to the traumatic stuff of vampire life, you are not, they don't realise that
poor kid is gonna be so traumatised, by the age of 10 killing someone over cereal seems socially acceptable
At least Caius actually has a soft spot for you, otherwise you'd be dead dead by now
Marcus reads you bedtime stories
Aro wants you to grow up appreciating everything he does, there are many 'daddy/daughter dates' where he takes you to see plays, musicals, concerts, or whatever that he deems suitable
Caius pretends to be impressed with your drawings and fakes excitement at whatever lego monstrosity you've made
Alec shows you the world, taking you around on his days off to Scotland, Brazil, India or wherever you randomly point to on a map
Felix let's you use his cloak as a blanket when he's not using it, you like to play with it and use it for dens and pillow forts (it can also be used as one of those massive fabric parachute tent bubble thingys the class played with in nursery/FS1/kindergarten and hid under (you know what I'm talking about))
Demitri let's you win at hide and seek despite his gift letting him know where you are at all times. He is also not above pretending to play to keep you out the way and quiet for a solid five minutes before you come out giggling saying you won again
Jane will capture butterflies and set them free with you because she knows you love them and you also love to chase them
The queen's are always dressing you up like a doll and doing your hair, they basically get a list from the secratery of everything humans need (food, water, socialising etc) and fulfil those needs for you
The secratery is the only one who actually knows what you want and need most times, being human herself. The kings are seriously considering turning her instead of just killing her you your sake
And God forbid anyone touches their precious baby, you've grown on them and they'd burn the world for you in an instant
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himimosa · 6 months
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oh no, mutt!
"Don't look at me with those eyes. Your face might work on that short snail called Chuuya, but it won't work on me, nope. We both know you are disguised as a poor puppy, but you are nothing more than a stray dog in the end-"
"Dazai, what are you doing?"
He raised his head to you. He was sitting at the entrance door of Ada. When you got closer, you noticed the little fluff ball near his legs...
"Is that.. is that a puppy?"
"Not you too Y/N! This little mutt possessed everyone in the Ada! Brats are feeding it every day, Yosano-sensei treated it and Kunikida took him to the vet for vaccines! Hell, even the most cat person in this city, the president loves this little creature!"
You ignored him and crouched down to the ground, right next to Dazai "Hi there... Oh my god, aren't you the cutest?..." You slowly held your hand to see its reaction. The little pup seemed domestic, it started to rub its little head towards your hand. When you get permission, you started to scratch his head gently. You felt that like your heart was melting..
"Yuck!... I can't believe how you betrayed me out of all people Y/N..." Dazai sighed dramatically and headed for the stairs. Then he made a sudden turn: "If that mutt gets used to this place because of you, it will be either me or it that will have to leave the Ada!"
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The pup stayed in the end, and of course Dazai too...
The little one was able to manage to capture everyone's heart. Nobody was afraid or disgusted (except Dazai) when it headed for the stairs and started to hang around in the office. It kinda became a mascot of the office... Naomi offered to name it "Pochi" and said it was the name of another cute pet from an anime. When "Pochi" was approved, it was now officially Ada's pet.
Pochi was so smart and loveable. (According to Ranpo, he was smarter than an average person) He knew the times when he could play with Ada members as he knew the times when things get serious. At times like this, he would sit quietly without bothering anyone (Kunikida has said Pochi was more mature than Dazai at these times) Sometimes he was accompanying the person on field search with their task too... Younger ones like Atsushi, Kyoka, Kenji, and Tanizaki siblings were mostly responsible for taking care of him, but no one would mind feeding him or having a walk with him. Except for one person...
"You should give Pochi a chance," you said on a lunch break. "He is one of us now, and I am sure Pochi wants to get along with you too..."
Dazai looked at you with both horror and disgust "Y/N-chan... Could you not talk about the mutt like it is an actual person?... I swear everyone is acting like they got bewitched by it..."
You didn't stop: "If you try to talk with him even once, you will see he is something else... Pochi listens to us like he actually understands"
"Nonsense..." Dazai scoffed "I would prefer to send a voicemail to Chuuya if I ever want a dog's listening to me..."
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It was a usual night for Yokohama. Everyone had left the office after they were done with their tasks. You refilled Pochi's water and food pots for the night, he was staying in the office at nights. When you were about to leave the office you suddenly realized Dazai was still at his desk..
You blinked a few times. If Kunikida saw this, he would probably shed happy tears... It was not a usual sight to see Dazai's still working.
"Dazai I am leaving the office now... Are you coming too, or should I leave the office to you for locking the doors before leaving?"
"Ah, it's okay Y/N-chan... I will probably stay in here tonight, so you can go ahead, don't worry..."
You hesitated for a moment "Are you sure?.."
Dazai smiled "Yeap, good night, see you tomorrow..."
You were still not sure about leaving him alone... His smile seemed so fake just now, and you had a feeling like Dazai was not okay at that moment. But thinking that he was trying to send you, prevented you from doing anything. You didn't want to cross your boundaries. He probably needed some alone time...
"Okay then.. see you later, good night~"
When you left, Dazai sighed. And he brought out some sake bottles from his closet before heading to the roof...
The roof was so calm and peaceful in these hours... You could see the bright lights from all around the city. There were hundreds of lights and buildings, the most majestic one's Dazai's ex-workplace... This city was ugly yet beautiful at the same time... You could watch the people hurrying somewhere from the roof, you could hear faint conversations and laughter, you could observe their lives... When he found somewhere to sit comfortably, he filled a glass, then he looked at the stars before raising his glass "To you, my friend..."
Today was his death anniversary. Dazai was used to the pain that comes after the lost one, but for some reason, this year was harder than before. He was missing his best friend more than ever now...
He drank and drank until the point he started feeling a little light-headed. He was reaching out for the 3rd bottle when he noticed Pochi had been watching him quietly from the door...
"Is it you mutt? What do you want?... Doesn't matter, because I won't get up to give it anyways..." He tried to open the bottle, but his hands were trembling.
"Damn it..." he murmured. He tried a few more times but when it started to hurt his fingers, he gave up in frustration. Once he raised his head, he realized Pochi was still watching him, only closer this time...
"Listen dog... I am not in a good mood. I was trying to prepare for having a monolog with my dead best friend... If you excuse me, I don't want any listeners beside me..."
Pochi looked at him. At that moment, Dazai realized the dog was different than usual. Usually, the dog had this cheerful, loud attitude, it would look like it was smiling and move its tail fastly (too much to his disliking, he was thinking it was annoying) But now it was listening to him with ears dropped, the tail's not moving... And its eyes were like... it understood him...
"... Do you really understand what I am saying?" he asked, then he continued "..As if... It wouldn't be possible for a shrimp-sized brain like yours would be able to understand the complexity of human emotions.. Hell even I don't understand why I am feeling this-" he stopped for a second because his voice was trembling. "-these feelings... I just don't understand and..."
He felt tears were about to come but he bit his lips hard. He hated crying, and he had never cried for Odasaku since the day he died...
Pochi slowly moved towards him. Dazai didn't try to push him away for the first time. He watched as Pochi slowly approached. Pochi stopped near to his knees, didn't come closer. Instead, he put his little head on top of Dazai's knee. And just stood there...
Dazai couldn't remember how much he cried and talked about his dead friend with a dog that night... But when he woke up in the morning and saw Pochi sleeping in his lap peacefully, he didn't dare to remove him.
He didn't want to think about you guys reaction once you found out. Instead, he took his phone out and sent a picture with the caption: "Pipsqueak, look at him carefully and learn how to act as a good boy :p"
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Notes:
I have never had a dog, but I had a cat. She was my baby, my little angel... And she used to do this thing like Pochi, she would knew it whenever I was too depressed, and sit with me until I feel better... This was mostly for her memory, reast in peace my angel ♡
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kweenkatsuki-fics · 7 months
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Panty Stealer Toji (reuploaded)
a/n: have this little drabble I did on the old blog. Reuploading slowly but surely.
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Panty stealer Toji who swipes your panties from the laundry room in the apartment complex you both live in. 
He’s a menace really but he seems polite enough, waves to you when you’re leaving the building for work. Is always outside the apartment building at late hours of the night doing god knows what. Feeds a stray cat that makes its way around the building begging for scraps. And yes. Yes you will admit, he’s very very handsome. 
Handsome enough to fantasize about every once in a while during your weekly wank but…have you made a move on him? No. Of course not. You’d heard he was bad news from the other tenants in the building. Dead-beat dad, doesn’t pay child support is thick and thin with a LOT of underground criminals. Which begs the question, if they’re underground criminals, why would people know that he is associated with them? 
That makes your mind wander to a pretty dangerous place if you’re being completely honest. Because now you’re starting to think maybe, the rumors are just that. Rumors. Maybe the big handsome guy in 12B isn’t as bad as all the other tenants say he is. Maybe… you should give him a chance. 
Except Toji… has his own little secret doesn’t he?
Toji targeted you the moment he saw you, traipsing around the apartment building in those little jean shorts, the black tank top that barely held your tits in place. Your cocked hip with the laundry basket balanced firmly on it. 
You were good enough to eat, a sweet lil thing he could devour, feast on for days and days Hell, he wouldn’t let you leave his sight, except maybe to go to work and make some money for him. 
Look, Toji isn’t usually a guy that doesn’t make up his mind but you had him on the fence for a while. Should he leave you alone? You're innocent enough. Sweet smile, dimples, live alone, a rack to die for and ass that matches. You’re young too, early twenties, supple, and god damn Toji can’t stop thinking about how your tits would bounce while he pulled you down on his cock. 
No, no. You’ve got a life ahead of you. You’re in University, you’re studying to make something of your life.he shouldn’t get in the way of that. 
Toji thought about all of that, that was until he stopped you in the stairwell. 
“Hey little missy, I think ya dropped this,” he says, trying to catch up to you down the stairs. You’re shocked when you see what he’s holding, a pair of frilly light blue panties dangling from his index finger. He wishes he could snap a picture of your face, the dirty shame, the embarrassment and if he didn’t know any better, the slight pride hiding away in your eyes. 
Toji licks his lips. So you are a little naughty thing, ain’t ya? You like that he’s holding your panties right now. 
And wouldn’t ya know it, when you reach out to take them back from him quickly, you blush and avert your eyes to the floor while muttering a cute little “Oh my god. How embarrassing.” 
Toji knows his power, he knows his blessings and shortcomings which means he knows he can use the attraction women have to him to his advantage. Especially on a sweet little thing like you. 
He bites back the foul nasty…ahem… he means inappropriate… shit he could say to you right now. The freaky images he has in his head right now, you bent over, split apart around his cock, milky frothy cum gathered around the base of his dick and caught in his coily dark hair below.   
No, instead he smiles warmly at you.  He assures you he was the only one who saw them and very quickly he can wipe it from his memory so it’s almost like it never happened. And with that assurance he knows he’s got you. Because you smile at him, a genuine bright smile and it’s pretty so pretty it only makes his cock, now stirring to life in his pants, inflate even quicker. 
“I guess I’m lucky it was only you that saw them then,” you reply with a giggle. And although it’s very quick, he catches the way you bite your bottom lip before reaching out a hand to introduce yourself. 
“A pleasure to meet you Toji.” 
It is a pleasure, a great pleasure indeed. Especially when Toji finally gets back to his apartment. The little chat with you leaves him leaking with precum, throbbing against his own stomach. 
Luckily though, Toji’s got a thing for gathering souvenirs, and this one may be the best one he’s ever swiped. It turns out you didn’t only drop one pair. There were two. A blue and pink pair of frilly little panties. He’d returned the blue pair, of course how chivalrous of him. The pink pair though… well, who is he if he doesn’t take a prize? 
And you are a prize, because Toji fists his cock to the thought of you, the smell of your cunt as he presses his nose to the panties and inhales deeply. You smell fucking delicious, ready to be taken, to be filled up and bred. And he doesn’t know why he gets the tingling in his bones when he takes another deep breath but he gets the sense you may even be a virgin. 
To be the first to be inside your sweet little cunt. It’s a goal of his, one he won’t take lightly. And as he spills cum out the tip of his cock like a fountain, growling and groaning like some wild beast, he paints your panties in milky white. 
This will do for now. But soon, Toji will complete his goal, he’ll make you cry and beg for him and then he’ll use your cunt as a dump for all the foul little daydreams he has planned for you. 
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leychin · 5 days
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HAPPY ENDING
t.shigaraki x reader
cw: mentions of past traumas but vague, shigarakis whole backstory, child abuse
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No one in the League has had a "normal" childhood. Everyone has a tragic villain origin story, everyone has the moment the snapped. Its an unspoken rule to just never inquire about anyones past.
Shigaraki doesn't follow any rules though, so when he asks you one night while you both take a rare trip to a grocery store to pick up essentials, he asks what made you switch teams. He asks what happened to you, someone he can't imagine hurting him, or anyone from that matter what made you snap.
Shigaraki doesn't let people in, he can't afford it, especially not in his current position. But he feels like he knows you, which is silly because it's only been a year, but in that time he's seen your never ending kindness. You used to feed the stray cats outside the bar before it was destroyed, you used to sew up Toga's clothes and offered to let her lick the blood off your fingers when you pricked yourself. You bring Dabi relaxing teas every Tuesday without fail.
And for weeks you treated Shigaraki like he was your world, you were the only one listening to those long anti hero tangents when he was drunk at the bar, you're the one shuffled up next to him pressed shoulder to shoulder to watch him clear a handheld game, enjoying his warmth when hes done nothing except allow you to stay next to him.
So Shigaraki doesn't expect you to answer, and something inside of him deflates but he isnt sure what. He knows he doesn't have the right to your trust, and your story, so when you don't answer he opts to drop it.
He doesn't expect you to look at him with such a jaded look and tears welling in your eyes at the thiught of whatever happened to you, and hes quickly pulling you deeper into the shadows so that no one could see one of his subordinates friends in such a weak state.
"Its stupid." you dryly laugh in attempts to lighten the mood "I don't have whatever you and Dabi have going on." you try to explain to him, but its not coming out right. He doesn't know what to do, you're sat down in front of him thr way a subject kneels before a God. Shigaraki is no God, at least not yours. He doesn't want to be.
So he crouches down in front of you, and he just stares. He's trying to say take your time, but it never comes out, so he keeps staring at you with crimson eyes. He wants to reach out, to hold you, but it doesn't come out either.
You do tell him though, that its so so stupid but it's just because you weren't wanted. Not in the way Dabi alludes to and the way Toga speaks about her past, but in the way that you were a backup plan and never first. Your entire life was for the convenience of others, your mother spoiled your brother and barely remembered your birthdays, your father insisting it was a 'Father and son' thing.
You told him it wouldn't have been as bad if it wasn't your friends too, never invited unless someone else had to back out, never remembered for a birthday, conveniently left out for secret santa, and having to do prom dress fittings alone because they already did theres together.
Its funny, you laugh to him and Shigaraki continues to stare at you. So you tell him about your prom night, because that was the night you left. You had gotten a date with a boy you harbored a small crush on for a while, and he asked you to go with him so of course you and your naive heart said yes.
You waited for him for a while, thinking he was late, and when he was fourty minutes late you decided to give up, thinking he forgot. Only to go home already in tears to open snapchat and see his story with him dancing with another girl, your only message was from him saying his ex got back with him so he didn't 'have' to go with you anymore.
You cry, not because of the heartbreak but because of the frustration. You have never gotten to be wanted by other people, you've never gotten that feeling of being accepted for just being you the way everyone else does. Thats why you left, because no one wanted you around enough to stay, and at least in the League you can pretend you had a purpose.
You're laughing now, because the butterfly effect is so hilarious you can't do anything but either laugh or cry. If you had just gotten that dance that night you wouldn't be labeled a domestic terrorist. You tell that to Shigaraki thinking it'll lighten the mood, but he stares at you still with that blank face.
"I wasn't wanted either." Is all he says before he stands up and offers you a hand to help you up, and when you carefully take it he yanks you up and pulls you close to his chest.
"I don't know how to dance." he says carefully
"What?"
"You said you wanted someone to dance with you."
That wasn't the moral of the story, you note in your head. But you decide to show him the steps anyway to a basic slowdance, and he eventually gets more comfortable with it and starts to lead you on his own, the only sound now is awkward feet shuffling in the quiet alleyway.
"Im sorry there's no music." You eventually say awkwardly
"Its ok." is all he says
You enjoy this, you realize. You're glad Shigaraki is the one dancing with you and not that boy from those years ago. You rest your head on Shigaraki's chest, you feel him stiffen, but he relaxes into it. This is good.
"My father didn't like me either." Shigaraki quietly says "He hated that me and my sister were born." he pauses, wondering if he should even be telling his story when you just told yours, but opts to anyway. "He hurt us, and I always wondered why he had us if he just hated us."
You look up at him, and he stares back down at you. You wait for him to continue and he does "So when my quirk manifested, I killed him." He chuckles dryly, even if he doesnt remember everything else entirely, he remembers that moment when everything felt so clear, and the itching finally stopped.
He slowly lets go of you now, deciding the dance is done, and you do too. Not sure what to do to break the silence.
"Will you go back now?"
"What?"
"You said that if you had just gotten that dance, you wouldn't be a domestic terrorist. I just danced with you, so will you go?" He asks, and he doesnt realize his heart has made his way to his throat as he asks, he realizes he doesn't want you to go, he wants to do that again and again and again and again.
You realize what hes asking and you cant help but let your mouth curl into a smile, so you carefully intertwine your fingers with his, careful to not brush his pinky with yours.
He jumps at the contact, and stares at your hands together for an uncomfortably long time before looking back at you "What are you doing?" and you shrug before leading the both of you out of the alleyway and into the moonlight.
"Im gonna stay with the people who want me."
Shigaraki's heart lurches in his chest, and he feels so warm inside he thinks hes going to explode. But instead he opts to give a squeeze back "Good. I wouldn't have let you go back anyway."
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cleo-fox · 6 months
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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.
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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
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sakuraaachan · 10 months
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Human Too - Izuku M.
Ever heard the saying, never feed a stray cat?
Villain! Izuku x Reader
Rating: violence, mentions of blood and injury
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This is the full version of the story!
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With a sigh, you dismissed the amber alert on your phone, dropping it onto your bed. Once again the infamous villain Deku had escaped the pro-heros, apparently he had blown up a diner in the area. It was like watching a game of cat and mouse, the pros seemed to never be able to capture Deku.
With a small groan you get up from your covers, walking around to ensure that all the windows are locked shut. It was a normal routine since you didn’t live in the best neighborhood. You check the front door lock before deadbolting it, and heading back to your bedroom to lock your balcony. 
The apartment was quiet, it was a peaceful night in comparison to the ones filled with gunshots and police sirens. So the unexpected thump on your balcony makes you yelp, almost jumping out of your skin.
You could tell from the silhouette through the curtains that a body had landed on your balcony. “Fuck” the person curses, groaning as they strained themselves to sit up. Immediately you rush to help them, not recognizing them at first.
“Hey are you okay?” You opened the screen door, kneeling beside the male. He's dressed quite nicely, in a nice black tux that went well with his dark green curls.
“Oh my god-” you suddenly recognize his features. This was Deku, Japan’s most dangerous hero, lying here on your balcony. You look back at the inside of your room, your phone is on top of your bed, should you call the police?
You look back at the villain, his arm is injured and his clothes were all battered up. You can’t just leave him like this. “Come inside, I’ll dress your wounds” he flinches as you put your hand on his shoulder. Your stomach bubbles with regret.
“What are you-” he pulls back, his stare like icy daggers. You take a step back, watching him struggle to stand up, using your railing as support.
He looked pitiful, struggling like that. “Just shut up and let me help you” You say, biting the inside of your mouth for speaking without thinking, it was a bad habit of yours. He stares at you with an unreadable face, worsening the fear beginning to creep up your spine. Slowly you were able to drag the villain inside and sit him on the carpeted floor, which he was getting blood on.
“You do know who I am right?” He asks while watching you. His eyes dart to every single move you make.
Your room was dark, only light coming from the moon shining in through your balcony. You reply, “yes I do.” Once you have him sat in the middle of your room, you enter your bathroom to go find some supplies.
“Then why are you helping me?”
“Villian or not, you're still human,” You yell out from your bathroom, looking for your first aid kit.
The male stays quiet, holding his arm while he waits for you. You finally find that damned medkit and rush back into the room. ‘“I’m immune to poison by the way” He still doesn’t trust you, watching you take out antibiotics.
You pause for a moment, antibiotics in hand, and meet his gaze. His words echo in your mind, reminding you of the dangerous person you're dealing with. But something compels you to proceed, to offer aid despite the risks.
"I'm not trying to poison you," you say firmly, your voice laced with sincerity. “Just let me clean your wounds,” you raise a brow, holding a cloth in your hand as you wait for him to present his arm to you. His eyes bore into yours as you both just stare at each other.
The boy huffs before removing his hand from his wound and showing it to you. “This might sting a bit” You warn.
 “Please” he says sarcastically, rolling his eyes.
You press the warm towel to his wound and he hisses in pain and you snicker under your breath quietly. You focus on cleaning his wound, ignoring the gaze that stares into your forehead .Deku studies you, his eyes flickering with uncertainty. It's a gamble, trusting a villain, but your gut tells you there's more to his story.
As you clean his wound, a strange tension lingers in the air. The silence is broken only by the soft sound of water and the occasional sound of pain escaping from Deku's lips. 
“What...happened?” You decide to speak first, moving the cloth slowly to check if the bleedings stopped.
 “Why not just turn the news on and see for yourself?” His hot breath fans on your face as he speaks, though his voice is cold.
“The news always over-dramatises everything, I wanna know your story” You laugh a little, removing the blood-spoked towel completely, grabbing rubbing alcohol.
 “I was just minding my business when the lovely number one hero stopped by,” He explains, clenching his jaw from the liquid being poured over his wound. 
“He exploded that diner huh?” You finish for him, well aware of the hero’s anger issues and tendency to blow things up. 
“I never did get to finish that milkshake” He mutters.
"You know," you search your first aid for a wrapping band-aid, mindlessly speaking. "The world sees you as this villain, this untouchable figure. But I can't help but wonder if there's more to you than meets the eye."
Deku's gaze flickers, his brows furrowing slightly. "What do you mean?"
You start to wrap his wound with a bandage, his gaze stirring up the fear you were fighting. The weight of his presence and his reputation as a dangerous villain hangs over you, reminding you of the risks you're taking. He smirks, as if reading your mind.
“I’m not gonna hurt you pretty girl,” you notice that his eyes have softened quite a bit, By now he’s realized that you're not a threat.  “I can tell you're scared of me, don’t be, I like that sassy side in you.”
His free hand comes up and rubs your cheek, a flirtatious grin on his face. You feel your cheeks heat up a bit but you stop yourself, wanting to purge the thoughts from your head. You tighten the bandage wrap making him retract his hand, he groans. “Ouch.”
“I prefer you not try to seduce me” You get back to wrapping. He grins, a chuckle coming from his chapped lips. 
“Atta girl,” He praises, making you grin as well. 
You let out a small laugh at his playful remark, relieved that the tension in the room has eased a bit. Despite the dangerous circumstances, you find yourself strangely drawn to Deku's charisma and his ability to lighten the mood.
Once you finish wrapping his wound, you sit back and admire your handiwork. “Done, you should probably get some stitches though.” Deku flexes his arm experimentally, testing the tightness of the bandage.
"You're pretty good at this," he comments..
"Well, I've had my fair share of accidents and injuries," you reply with a hint of self-deprecating humor. "It comes with living in a neighborhood like this." 
Deku laughs, starting to stand up. “I think I like you,” he grabs a cigarette from his front pocket, placing it in his mouth before lighting it.  “Sorry about your carpet, I’ll pay to fix it”
“Is that just your excuse to see me again?” You crossed your arms, arching a brow at him.
“Oh trust me doll, we will be seeing each other again.”
Before you could reply, he bends down, cold lips pressed up against your cheek before his breath fanned on your ear. “But there is no guarantee we’ll both be...fully clothed~”
And just like that, he disappeared.
As Deku's words hang in the air, surprise and anticipation courses through you. The brief contact of his lips on your cheek lingers, leaving a tingling sensation in its wake. His departure is sudden and mysterious, leaving you standing there, stunned and slightly breathless.
A mix of emotions swirl within you—confusion, intrigue, and a hint of excitement. You find yourself replaying the encounter in your mind, contemplating the enigmatic villain and the unexpected connection that has formed between you.
Days pass, and thoughts of Deku continue to occupy your mind. You find yourself drawn to the balcony where he had landed, as if hoping to catch a glimpse of him again. But there is no sign of him, and you wonder if it was all just a surreal dream.
One evening, you were bringing in groceries late. 
“Damn these bags are heavy.” 
You walked up the steps to your apartment, many bags of heavy groceries in your hand. Placing them down on the ground outside your door, you searched your purse for the keys.
Finally getting your hands on them, you pull them out to unlock the door, but it’s already cracked open. You tilt your head, “did I leave the door open?”
You furrow your eyebrows as you push the door to open further, the light glistening from the moon shined inside the doorway of your apartment. You patted the wall in search of the light switch and the lights flickered on with a click, but...something was wrong. Your entire apartment was stripped clean, nothing inside at all. The furniture, gone. Carpets, stripped, even the drywall  were removed.
Concern took over your features as you took off your wet raincoat and ventured further inside the apartment, the front door still ajar. Everything was gone, your closet stripped clean
Someone had broken in…
You run a hand through your hair, biting your lip slightly. What should you do? Call the police?
“Well, lookie here boys. I found our little princess.” The unknown voice sends chills down your spine, as a very big man enters the room. More footsteps could be heard as even more walked in as well.
“Let’s cut straight to the chase sweetie, where is it?”
You cross your arms, attempting to shield your fear. “Where is what?”
The biggest one steps up, you assume he’s probably the boss. “Deku was here, meaning he had to have given you something, where is it?”
Your eye twitches as you look around the room, “you stripped my whole apartment…over something that isn’t even here!?” Anger begins to boil within you, “ this is outrageous! I can not believe this!”
The members begin to chatter with each other. 
‘Nothing is here….?’ 
‘Something has to be, Deku doesn’t just make friendly visits.’
You march up to the boss and start pointing your finger in his face. “You are going to be paying for everything-” The man doesn’t look very happy making you quiet down. “It’s okay, I’ll just file an insurance claim.”
The boss grabs your arm, slamming you up against a wall. “You sure like to talk,” he grins eagerly, “but I have better uses for that pretty little mouth.” The man moves closer to your neck and you start to shiver in disgust wanting to retreat away from him as soon as possible.
“There’s enough to go around boys” The man looks over to his gang, grinning at your petite body. 
“Uhhh… I’m on my period, and I have herpes, like really bad herpes.” You lie through your teeth, but they don’t seem to be listening and you start to panic looking around for anything to defend yourself. 
Your keys!
As swiftly as you could, you gripped your keys and used it to stab the boss in the eye. “Bitch!” He cusses, dropping you immediately and clutching his eye. “I’m gonna fucking kill you.”
You back yourself into a corner, holding out your keys as a last pitiful attempt in defense. They started to close in on you, looking very pissed off. You gulp, how royally screwed you were.
In that moment, as fear and desperation surged through your veins, a sudden noise echoed through the apartment. It was a loud crash, the gang members turned their attention toward the noise, momentarily distracted from their pursuit of you. 
Through the doorway emerged a figure, clad in a familiar green and black suit. It was Deku, and he didn’t look too happy. You stare at him wide-eyed, and when he catches your eyes, he smiles.
“Trouble just seems to always find you, hm doll?” 
The room descended into chaos as Deku fought off the assailants, his movements a blur of strength and skill. The tide turned in your favor as the odds shifted in the presence of your villain friend.
As the last of the gang members fell to the ground, subdued and defeated, Deku turned his attention toward you. He doesn’t seem the least bit fazed and just fixes his tie. 
"Are you alright?" he asked. 
You take a moment to catch your breath, still trying to process the whirlwind of events that just unfolded. Despite the chaos around you, a sense of relief washes over you as you realize you're safe, thanks to Deku's intervention.
“You’re just a magnet for villains aren’t you-” his playful remark is interrupted as you stand up and hug him, squeezing him as hard as you could. 
“I was so scared.” You whisper, a tear rolling down your cheek. 
He’s frozen still for a second, before his hands are embracing you back. “So you can stand up to the number one villain, but you're scared of these bozos? I’m insulted.” 
You laugh through your tears. “Shut up.”
As the adrenaline subsides, you notice the aftermath of the fight. Broken furniture, scattered debris, and the defeated gang members lying on the floor. You pull away from Deku and look around your empty room. “They took everything, I…I don’t know what I’m gonna do.”
His eyes flicker up to your face, watching your expression contort as you make up different ideas in your head. Maybe you could stay at a hotel, or your moms…
“You’re bleeding.”
“Huh?” You glance over at Deku, he’s pointing at your thigh, and he was right, you were bleeding. “Oh shit,” because of the adrenaline you didn’t notice when you accidentally stabbed yourself with your key.
“Let me take care of you,” Deku says, effortlessly picking you up into his arms. “Let’s call it, returning a favor.”
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©LuvloveUni
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buckyalpine · 2 years
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Fur Baby
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Bucky x f reader 
For Bella’s writing challenge, I’ve loved this so much @chrisdrysdale You have the best prompt list! Please reblog, like, comment and let me know what you think  💕
Prompt 40. What no smart-ass reply? 
Warnings: None! Fluff! Bucky is a secret softie 
Word count: 1k 
“No.” “But Buckyyy, look how cute” you pouted, shoving your phone in his face.
Bucky’s stoic face remained the same.
“No y/n, we wouldn’t even be home to take care of it” “It’s a she!” “It’s a cat.”
You had spotted a stray cat near the compound, along with her new born kittens. There were four of them nestled in the warm grass and bushes. Ever since you found them, you started leaving out bowls of water and food. There was a strict no pet’s policy, but rules are meant to be broken right?  
You shared a floor with Steve and Bucky; if you could convince them to keep their mouths shut, you would be able to care for the babies on your floor until they were old enough to be adopted. Steve was away on a mission, so for now you just had to convince Bucky. You scrolled through the cutest pictures you had of the babies, but Bucky wasn’t convinced. Screw him, the kittens deserved better than grass.
It wasn’t a struggle to get them inside; you had gained mamas trust and she happily trailed behind you as you tucked the babies in a shoebox to take to your room. You snuck into the elevator, groaning remembering you would have to walk by Bucky’s room to get to yours. Tiny mews emerged from the box as the elevator came to a stop.
“You have to be quiet or he’s going to hear you” “Meow”
You dashed to your room, quietly shutting the door behind you. There was already a small space in the closet with blankets and heating pads. You had kept food, water bowls and a few feeding bottles in case the kittens needed extra milk. Mama cat sauntered around the room, cautiously sniffing around, happily settling in the pile of warm blankets you had set out.
“Smart girl, you knew that was for you, didn’t you?” “Merrp”
Over the next few weeks, the kittens were growing and getting naughtier by the second; it was getting harder to keep them a secret. Mama was also thriving, her white fur shiny and soft; she was considerably fuller looking. You had a number of people looking to adopt the kittens but few people were interested in an older cat.
“Sweet girl, we’ll find you an amazing home too, I promise” You scratched behind her ears as she purred against you. As much as you loved the kittens, she was an absolute treasure.
You woke up the next morning, feeling emptiness on your side of the bed. You had started letting her sleep by your side but right now she was nowhere to be seen. The kittens were fast sleep in their blankets. You searched around the room, worry increasing when she was nowhere to be found.
You made your way down the hall hoping to see her somewhere but again, nothing. You continued to check every floor as you made your way downstairs. Everyone was away on a mission, so at least the cat wasn’t out of the bag. Sort of?
You heard Bucky’s voice from the living room, surprised because there wasn’t anyone else around the compound and God knows the man doesn’t talk to anyone on the phone.
“Sometimes I feel like I can’t escape my own head, you know?” You curiosity piqued. It warmed your heart a little that he was opening up, but who the hell was he talking to?
“How would you know, you’re a cat”
“Meow”
You felt your soul leave your body, hastily returning to watch the following scene unfold before you.
Bucky was lying on the couch with the cat perched on his chest slowly blinking at him each time he spoke. He was feeding her little cat treats while rubbing her behind the ears. Alpine noticed you, her ears perking up and tail swishing about.
“What is it Alpine?”
“Meow” “So that’s why she’s gotten so round, I knew I didn’t leave her that much food” Bucky’s face turned red, his eyes growing wide as he looked up at you grinning down at him.
“What, no smart-ass reply?”
“uh- what are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be with the others?”
You giggled, watching the cat snuggle into Bucky’s chest, closing her eyes as the afternoon sun poured through the windows.
“Could ask you the same question Buck. Alpine?” “Yeah” His face continued to heat up, blushing while continuing to pet the fur baby as she slept. “Cause she’s white and soft like snow” “WOW. How long has this rendezvous been going on for?”
“She came into my room a few weeks ago. Must have heard me having a nightmare and I guess you left your door open. I heard scratching at the door and she was there. She’s been with me every night ever since” You felt your heart melt. You smiled, sitting beside Bucky, his words suddenly registering. “Wait, every night?! But she’s always in my bed when I’m up!” Bucky snorted. “You sleep like a log, she sleeps with me and then I put her back in your room before you’re up. You’d sleep through the purge y/n”
You grinned, watching Bucky look at Alpine with heart eyes.
“You like her don’t you”
“She’s okay” As if Alpine understood, her head shot up, her eyes narrowing at him.
“I’m joking sweetheart, I love you” He pressed a soft kiss on her head. Satisfied, she nuzzled back into his chest.
“Is that a cat?”
Both you and Bucky sat up wide eyed as Tony entered the living room with the others.
“Yep”
“Why is there a cat in the living room?”
“Can we keep her?”  You didn’t bother explaining the story of how you ended up at this very moment but you gave Tony the best puppy eyes you could muster.
Tony raised an eyebrow, watching Alpine purring happily in Bucky’s metal arm while he stroked her tummy.
“Fine. I’m not cleaning the litter box though”
“Looks like we found you a home Alpine!” 
-
 Thank you again, for your amazing prompt list! @chrisdrysdale
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nanamimizz · 2 years
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𝐆𝐎𝐎𝐃𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐒
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geto suguru finds the concept of goodness to be conceptualized by you - maybe thats why he loves you so. obsessively, profoundly, lustfully.
a/n: college au, trio and reader are juniors, reader is a foreign exchange student, fem reader, unprotected sex, confession of feelings, lovesick geto my beloved, 5k, minors dni, smut, grinding, fingering, blowjob, creampie, overstimulation, dacryphilia - let me know if i missed something
Suguru doesn’t know what to do with you - he finds you to be enigmatic but it might be because he is so wound up in his world that he finds your simplistic heart to be an oddity.
Unlike him who goes in circles till he sees squares, he finds that you simply take a straight line forward, walking to the beat of your bleeding heart that always gives and is more reluctant to take. He’s seen it in how you interact with the outside - away from him and the inner workings of society. He watched you from his bedroom window stay out on a chilly night, your breath like steam as you feed a stray cat warmed up wet food. 
You’re allergic to cats.
The bottomless well of your innate goodness scares him as does it enthrall him. How deep does it go? What makes you like this, what horrible things happened to shape the clay of your heart to turn into the valentine-cartoon shape rather than the ugly tied tube real ones that everyone else seems to bear except for you? 
He’s paced his room bloody staring at the pictures of you on your social media pages. Staring at the chunky fit of your knit sweaters, the slit on your skirts, and the buckles of your shoes. He takes in the pixels of your smiles and the shimmer on your eyelids and he keeps staring until his eyes sting like he was looking at the sun.
Maybe that’s the point of your mystery, to burn like the sun in his solar system, to burn the corneas of his eyes so all he sees is the white of your light even when he closes his burned eyes. A part of him hates you as much as he loves you, wishes you were somewhere else, wishes you were someone else, earnestly wishes you weren’t his type to the T so he wouldn’t be here awake at night thinking and longing about you for the 5th night in a row.
Like a moth to the flame he is drawn to you, sticks to your side when morning comes, or rather - makes you stick to him by how he makes you sit in his lap at the overcrowded cafe Satoru dragged you, him, and Shoko to after his Ethics class. He hides his soft groan into your head, your ass landing on the seam of his pants, right where his half-hard cock rests. He chooses to ignore the smirk on Saturo’s face and shudders when you shuffle on top of him to rearrange yourself, the hand that isn’t gripping the table twitches at the restraining the urge to squeeze the plush of your thighs. Or when movie night comes, he shares his blanket with you, keeping a tattooed arm around your shoulder, fingers painting dainty patterns in the exposed skin of your shoulders from your cami top.
He presses you too close, his thin t-shirt does nothing to block the softness of your breasts against his sturdy chest and he finds biting the inside of his cheek helps from stopping his groans - god when was the last time he got laid before you came into their triangle? He can’t even find someone to suit his tastes now that you are here, can barely stomach the flirtatious and lecherous smiles and quips thrown at him in bars, clubs, and parties. It’s embarrassingly humiliating how the simplest forms of contact with you make his cock twitch and balls swell in his loose, pleated pants. You’re some sort of drug to him, every little exchange with him isn’t enough, he always wants more and more. He craves so much a part of him wants to sink his teeth into the slope of your neck and suck into your blood and drink his fill. 
Seeing you every day isn’t enough, having you on his lap when there isn’t enough room for the 4 of you isn't enough, and the way he holds you at get-togethers and kickbacks isn’t enough. He needs you with him, at all times, needs you in bed, in his kitchen, needs your products in his bathroom, and your clothes in his hamper.  The twine rope of his despair and desperation yields and frays with every passing moment in which you aren’t his - he wonders when it’ll ever break if it ever does.
The snap of the rope came with no fiery explosion or grand scheme - it was when it was the two of you were alone for the group’s weekly event of movie night (both Satoru and Shoko were conveniently out for the night, Shoko at work and Satoru at some freshman’s birthday party - Yuuji or something along those lines) leaving him and you alone for an entire night. You sat on the sofa - fuzzy pajamas and a little long-sleeved cropped shirt. It was your turn for a movie and he knew you’d pick your favorite The Wind Rises.
He calls out your name and you turn smiling at him as sweetly as morning dew and greet him with a tender little wave. You’re soft-spoken for the most part and that seems to multiply when you are with him. At first, it was worrisome - both Shoko and Satoru were quite taken with you and if he made you uncomfortable it would be a problem for the group.
Good thing Geto Suguru was nothing but observant.
You find him attractive, he knows that much. The way you shudder when he brings an arm around you and the way you squirm when he brings in his lap for more space. You’re almost like a stray cat, looking at him from the alleyways when he sets the food down, lowering your body to the ground when he calls and makes attempts to pet you. He has to be gentle with you lest you scurry off and leave him forever. He doesn’t think he can handle even a minute without you as it stands now.
He sits with you as the movie starts and he enjoys it, he finds Jiro’s character to be relatable and enjoys the animation and color of the film but he finds himself leaning in when the character Naoko comes on the screen. In the scene where she descends on the mountain is playing when he feels the tickle of your hair on his shoulder, blinking from the film he turns his gaze at you and sees that you’ve placed your head on his shoulder, pressed up to him and have wrapped your hand around his forearm as Naoko collapses and is caught by Jiro. Suguru, on instinct, leans down and rests his cheek against the top of your head.
Jiro and Naoko leave the train station and the dialogue fizzes in his head as he takes in the scent of your shampoo. As he watches Jiro and Naoko’s love bloom on the screen he finds himself yearning to be like them with you - the movie is paused. Blinking from his stupor he feels you shift away from him, his side aches from your return. You say his family name softly - he fights the urge to correct you (It’s Suguru to you, always Suguru for you,) You can’t reach his eyes and you fidget with a loose thread in your pants and tug the sleeves of your sweater over the palms of your hands.
“Geto I like you. I really like you.” Yours are timid and your accent stumbles through the Japanese language and he fights the urge to grin and grip his hands in excitement. You can't meet his gaze and your shoulders shake from nervousness. He reaches over and holds your hand in his. It’s so much smaller than his, he can’t help but wonder how much bigger he is compared to you in other ways.
“Oh?.” He says just as softly, hand coming up to make you face him. He huffs at how warm your face is in his hand and how you avoid eye contact. He turns your face to the side, smiles at your sharp intake of breath, and presses a sweet kiss to your cheek. Your hands come up to his forearms and he laughs outright.
“How long have you liked me? I’ve liked you since we first met.” He’s teasing, that isn’t exactly true but he grins at how you stammer and grow more and more flustered, his fingers pressing into the softness of your cheeks in his palm.
“I-i liked you when I sat next to you in class. You were so…so handsome and smart. It was really hard not to get drawn to you.” You confess, eyes lidded beneath wispy eyelashes and he wonders if you knew how demurely you are and how he wants to smother and ruin you. You feel like honey in his hands, he thinks. He wants to feel you slip through his fingers and pool beneath him just so he can pick you up again.
“You’re so cute ya know? Even when you can’t bear to look at me right now - it’s cuz you’re embarrassed right?” You shuffle and stutter at his jab and your hands tighten on his forearms - you can't help the weakness in your knees nor can you help the shiver in your spine.
You’ve never been one to be pushed around but Geto makes it sugary sweet-like caramel in between your teeth. His words are like a sour green candy apple - gooey and warm til the sting of the joke bites your tongue. You can’t say anything to him, you are embarrassed - you were a bit of a contradiction, ever the wallflower you crave attention but you don’t know what to do with yourself when you have it. As always you need direction, from someone to take your shape in their hands and make something of your malleable form into a clearer shape
Seems as if you and Geto Suguru were born for one another - he was your eager sculptor and you the raw material and Geto Suguru would cross hell or high water to incur the favor of your form to make you, his. As he pulls away you pout and look at him indignantly, with a flustered look on your face you tug him back.
“Where do you think you’re going - you haven’t accepted my confession.” You scold him and you remind him of a child being denied a sweet, fluster leaving your face to reveal your insistence. He laughs and it sounds like autumn bell blooms in the wind and you grow even more embarrassed. 
“Stop teasing me - give me your answer.” You can see the amber of his eyes twinkle when he nods, amusing you and for a moment you see the snake in the bushes.
“Yes, yes I like you too - very much in fact. Since we met.” His words are sugar-crusted trying to sate your almost childish pouting. You hate that it works, pout going to a shy smile as you look up at him with doe eyes.
“O-oh?” You press yourself closer to him like the ocean tide with the moon and if you had a tail it’d wag when he hums and nods along with you. It’s almost juvenile how the two of you are, rubbing and nuzzling and giggling with each other over repeated confirmations of your feelings for each other. He feels lighter Suguru thinks, now that the tension is done and gone, he still wants more - the cavities in his molders want more of your placid sweetness, to rot even further until he aches for you.
“Yep. You’re such a cute little thing, and incredibly sweet. It was difficult to resist you - I’d spend all day and night thinking about you.” He speaks with a cloud in his eyes, and the confession is heavy for him you realize. Ge-no Suguru has never been one to be open about his secrets and you gulp at how he opens up to you. You aren’t so absent-minded to not have noticed how he changed with you. Where he was distant with Shoko he was close with you, where he was callous with Satoru he was affectionate as can be with you. Seeing the pink on his pale face you wanted to make the burden lighter for him.
“You’d think of me at night? That’s the most perverted confession I’ve ever heard.” Your muttered head turns to the side, giggling when you hear him scoff and click his tongue at you. In your mind’s eyes, you can see him roll his eyes at you and when you expect a snarky remark he surprises you with even more honesty - the poker master revealing his cards to you.
“Maybe you did make me a bit of a pervert.” He laughs at your shocked face, he can see the whites of your eyes and his pink-tinged grin broadens at your face. He hears you ask a trembling question and his shoulders shake with the effort to contain his laughter.
“Are you so surprised? Sweetheart, I haven't been able to bring someone else home since meeting you.” You blink stupidly at him before shaking your head at him. You push him (it doesn’t do anything to a man as built as Suguru).
“I don’t believe you.”
“You should.”
“I don’t.”
He sucks his teeth and tongues his cheek at your stubbornness.
“You can ask Satoru if you don't because he knows all too well the dry spell you have me under. Not that I mind, I have you now.” He isn’t smiling anymore and his brows are furrowed at your refusal to believe him.
“Why don’t you believe me, sweetheart?” You don’t say anything to him, still looking away from him, bringing your arms to wrap around yourself.
“Cuz you’re..well you ya know? It’s hard to believe someone's like you wants me so bad when you could have anyone you want. Especially when I’m not the prettiest person around,” you ramble on looking anywhere but him, and you fail to see the way his face cools to stoicism.
“I fail to see how my looks come into how I feel towards you - I didn’t bring anyone into my bed because I was completely in love with you. I couldn’t stand the way people looked at me - it was too different from how sweetly you looked at me. I couldn’t bear it when others touched me, their grip was too strong, their nails too long. It wasn’t like the way you would touch me.” His gaze is heated now, you feel the air shift - the tension that left with your alleviation returned in a cold blaze like that of a freezer burn.
“You’ve had me in a grip, do you know that? No, I don’t think you do. Girls like you never do - you’ve got nothing but butterflies in your head, you don’t even know how much suffering you’ve put me through.” He continues, leaning into your space - it feels different than before. No longer was he buffered by the softness of love but something heady is tugging at his strings you can see in how he talks to you and the wrinkles on his forehead. You feel it too, the storm in your stomach as the secretive man reveals more of the things he kept close to his heart to you.
 He squeezes your cheeks in his hand and holds your face to his, bringing your forehead to be flush against him, “You wanna know something? Not even cheap, basic porn got me off. No one has ever brought me to this point, no one. Not even my first girlfriend in my first year. I had to stroke my stupid cock to your dumb Instagram pictures. Getting off to your short little skirts and your smiles, you post for everyone to see. Do you have any idea how embarrassing that is?” 
His grip tightens and you shake your head in his hand and he coos at you,
“Of course, you wouldn’t, you’ve been a good girl all your life, you have right? I bet you don’t even put a finger inside when you get off. If you even do.” You frown and squirm against his hold. Through the forced pout, he has you in, you manage to slur out,
“I do get off - you dumb pervert.” Suguru laughs at that and grins almost cruelly.
“Yeah? You do? How then, since you wanna be a big girl now?” He enjoys the struggle in your face, it’s crude how he speaks to you but you like it even if your attempt to hide it is a piss poor at best. You face in a frozen still and you stumble through a mess of stuttered words and he watches amused by your inability to double down and back up your words. He runs a thumb over your bottom lip and you pause, the stumbling mixture of words comes to a still as your eyes go wide.
“Can I kiss you? Properly, I mean.” He asks and you nod, ears hot to the touch. You press your eyes close and tilt your head to him letting him press forward and meet your pouted lips with his. You taste of cherry chapstick and he feels the tacky balm rest on his lips. Suguru grins as you sigh, he lets your face go and reaches down to your waist. His hands feel big at your waist you think, his thumbs circle and rub at the exposed part of your skin - you squirm and whine into his mouth when you feel his tongue press at the seam of your lips. You are pulled - or maybe you move on your own up until you are situated on his lap? You can’t tell, your head is spinning, Suguru is sucking on your tongue as you feel something hot under the seam of your pants.
You pull away when your grip on his shirt loosens and you feel his chest heave in time with yours. The strings of spit connect, break and drool from your lips and you whine when he presses you down - closer to the hot rod beneath you.
“Maybe if you’re good enough, you can cure me of my pervertedness.” He teases, cheeks sore from grinning and voice raspy with want. You gasp weakly into his lips, you take deep gulps of air as if kissing Suguru left you with only liquid in your lungs. Short gasps of affirmation are all you give him when you feel his soft lips press feather-light kisses to your lupus and travel down the column of your throat, large and long fingers tracing the slope of your collarbones. He stops at the swell of your tit, the thin materials doing nothing to hide the pebble of your nipples, and your shut eyes make you miss the look of a starved man in Suguru’s eyes when you permit him to touch them.
You’re surprised when he doesn’t take your shirt off - Suguru is a man of patience and he finds that the longer you wait the sweeter the prize, and your delicious gasp, when he presses his fingers into the fat of your tits, is exactly as sweet as he pitifully fantasized it would be. Suguru hums contempt at your trembling gasps - his thumb and forefingers waste little time rolling the sensitive peaks of your nipples and smiles pacified at the high wail that tears from your throat.
“These are so sensitive.”, he mused, chuckling at your shaky nod, “They are so soft too, I could play with these forever.” He continues, pushing forwards and placing his face in between them. You jump when you feel something wet and hot suck at your nipple through the thin material of your shirt. You keen - hips rolling forward and curling your fingers into the thick material of his crewneck sweater. He groans - he feels the pulsing of the molten heat of your cunt on his lap. Moving to the other breast he grins at the wet patch and obvious print of your nipple - only to be covered with his hand. He keeps you like that, wanting to shred your defenses and leave you wired, he ruins your shirt with nips, and licks, and sucks at your nipples until you’re whining in his lap and begging to take the shirt off. He pulls away and laughs softly at the lustful and needy look on your face. Your brows were furrowed and whined, bumping your hips forwards till you hit the ridge of his cock and you sigh prettily. Cocking his head to the side he hums at you,
“You want to see it?” You blink slowly, as if under a trance, and nod bashfully. Smiling pleasantly at your submission, he takes your wrist and brings it to his waistband. You’re trembling, he can see the shaking of your fingers under his palm - he smiles and looks at you through the blanket of his lashes.
“It’s okay I’ll help you..” he says, he holds your hand from above and puppets it to tug his pants down - you squeak when you see the base of it (Suguru happened to forgo underwear tonight) and your eyes are wide as saucers when the pants keep giving, revealing inch by inch till you see the whole length. Pale and jaw slack, you can’t help but whine like a pet when begging for a treat - 7 inches, curving to the left and thick you’re a half foot in fear and the other in pure lust at the idea of that thing going inside you in any capacity. Seeing the way you are in near tears he coos at you, hand coming behind your head and cooing to you,
“It’s okay, you’re scared aren’t you?” You nodded, unable to take your gaze away, mouth dry and teeth sunk into your bottom lip. You feel his hand pat your head and he presses in half comforting you and half coddling you, voice like molasses both dark and sweet.
“Don’t worry - it won’t hurt, promise. It’ll feel good, trust me.” You nod, your overheating mind trusting the lull of his words as you sniffle and bend under his silk-wrapped force, he’s pushing you down – you tell by how his body gets closer and the fog in your mind grows thicker and thicker. You blink and gulp at his impressive length that looms over you like an obelisk. You still feel his hand on your head, patting you and giving you sugar-crusted sweet things, subtly leading you to where he wants you to go.
You’re his trembling sheep and him your shepherd, the back of your mind thinks. His cockhead is at your lips, deep red and swollen, it shines in the slick of pre and you whine at how your mouth drools. You look up at him, half your form on the floor, the other half clabbered on the couch and bent over his knees. He never stops smiling, patiently waiting for you to begin, the pressure on your head from the paw of his hand tethers you to the moment.
Your pink tongue comes out of your mouth and you lick, tentatively at the spongy head. He doesn’t taste strong, it’s tangy and a bit salty but the musk of it makes your thighs press and knees draw together as you keep licking down the length of his cock. Your eyes are shut and your face turned away, embarrassed at the dirty, position you are in - you think he’d be merciful and let you stay hidden for this part but you are drawn back to the magnetic pull of Geto Suguru when his hand from your head goes to your cheek and taps - 1, 2, 3.
“Don’t hide from me, that look on your face is my favorite part. You should be more open about these things too, you love me right?” He smiles as you nodded, not stopping your licking at the head of his cock, pelvis flexing at the gentle pleasure you milk from him revealing the fuzz of an inky black happy trail.
“Then don’t worry - you’ll learn to love it too.” You pause and blink, confused at his words, until his cock, grabbed by his other hand, is shoved in your mouth suddenly. You half squeak, half gag and he laughs at the bug-eyed look you give him. He didn’t shove the whole thing in your unprepared throat, just a bit more than the head and you do as he tells you - “Suck.” The pinprick of tears stings the back of your eyes and your throat bobs in the anxiety of having to take a monstrosity of a cock down your delicate throat. 
“Just keep it there,’ Suguru groans, both hands now cradling your head in their grip; thumbs digging into the plush skin of your cheek as he fights back the instinct to push further into your pliant mouth. It’s hot - wet and constricting he can’t imagine how good your cunt will feel if this is how good your mouth is to him; the slope of your tongue and your suckling mouth milk him sweetly, it’s a slow pace and someone else would ram their cock into your mouth and he fights his lesser nature to do just that, If you could see you’d note how he stills his hips and bites at his lip to keep himself anchored, head thrown back at the meticulous, caramel-hot pleasure you give him with gentle sucks and kitten licks.
“Shit - enough, enough..fuck that’s it, baby.” He whispers down to you, pulling you off his cock as strings of drool follow your puffy mouth. You’re panting, face hot and spit down to your tits, more stains on your poor shirt. He pats his thighs and you shuffle over, pulling and folding your legs so you half sit in his lap.  You lean into him, his cock pressed up against the material of your fuzzy pants making him hiss that you swallow with your needy kiss. Pushing your tongue against his lips he grins at the incessant roll of your hips, palms, and greedy fingers coming to pinch and pluck the waistband of your pants to pull them down and away. You whine as the room’s air hits your heated thighs, your sodden panties feeling cold and sticky without the layer of your bottoms.
“Need- need something, anything, please. Please Suguru-” your pleading is cut by a finger hooking the gusset of your panties to the side and sliding against the plush slick of your folds. You gasp and tremble, face leaning down till it lands on the slope of your lover's neck, right under his ear. Your blunt nails dig into his shoulders when you feel something velvety brush against the pearl of your clit. A weak, wispy cry is all you let out as he shallowly sinks and swirls his finger into the fluttering whole of your cunt. Your hips jump and twitch at the pressure of his cock at your clit - you feel like you’re in a never-ending haze, pleasure making your brain to a churned mush.
“Keep still - I need to prep you,” He speaks to you slowly as if you’re too brain dead to comprehend his words. Maybe you are the way you press closer to him in the mindless pursuit of your pleasure. You can hear your gasps and whines at how your cunt gives and uncurls for him with minimal effort, you can’t even hear him laugh lightly at your weakness, your patheticness. It feels mean, maybe he should go easier on you but he grins at how you poorly hid your liking to be pushed around by him, from him. Your cunt gives as easily as you do, his finger settles as deep as it can go, brushing past the bundle of nerves that makes your hips still and tense - like a spring that has been locked.
“Found something, didn’t I?”
 Squealing, thin, and shrill against his ear, Suguru makes sure to keep his finger there - keeping pace and pressure to keep your folds grinding against his cock. You’re high strung, drooling more and more into his shirt - soaking the cotton as you cry out when the pressure in your gut builds and snaps.
Slacking your form, you blink your eyes but can’t escape the tears that slip past your clumped together eyelashes. Gasping for breath, you sob when you realize a second finger is now pushing past the clamped and suckling insides of your cunt. They push in and out, scissoring - pulling at the nerves of your puffy content and Suguru shushes your cries with messy kisses; soft licks at the seam of your lips as more and more tears drip from your shut eyes.
“Suguru, Suguru, too much - it’s so much,” you’re pleading - or whining to him and presses a kiss to your trembling jaw, keeping you anchored as his fingers stretch you out,
“Shhh, shh it’s okay sweet girl. I gotta make sure it fits in you, s’gonna makes you feel so good. Just stay still f’me okay?” He lulls you, makes you sniffle, and nod. It makes you push out your hips, angling your hips so his fingers reach deeper and farther than anything you’ve done before. Moaning and rolling your eyes back you almost melt then and there in his lap as you soak his fingers for the 2nd time of the time. Boneless and lip you can only bob your head when you feel yourself being manhandled into his lap - your knees spread and hips above his cock.
He’s going to be inside you now.
“Thank you, thank you - Suguru, Suguru, love you,” You babble mindlessly, lips only a hair away from him as he hisses when your wet cunt kisses the tip of his cock. Sweat beads down his forehead as he smiles at you, keeping his eyes on your pretty, dazed face. Your eyes are red and wet and the tear tracks on your face endear him to you. You were as sweet as he always thought you would be, needy and sensitive and addicting to his insatiable hunger. He presses you down further giving you candied comforts as you go further and further down the length of his cock. Your cunt gives and sucks, fluttering around him and making his groan to match your faint sighs.
It burns but it feels good. It stings but his fingers dance at your clit, turning the slight pain to buzzes of mind-numbing pleasure. You pulse around him, he feels your cunt take and take, silken walls - hot and soaking pulls and milks him from his balls to his tip. Hissing through his teeth, Suguru grips your hips and pulls you up , he breathlessly laughs at the star-eyed look on your face and drops you back down. A shriek is pulled from you, girlish and helpless little - “ah, ah, ah, ah”s  paired with the loud wet smack of your slicked cunt meeting his pelvis ring through the tranquil room.
The candle flickers and you both moan in tandem. Suguru, your Suguru is so big, so deep in your most sensitive parts you swear you feel him in your brain, shaping your mind into the character of his name stroke by stroke of his hips. It’s too much but not enough, you need more and more, more of him. Deeper, faster, harder fucking you every day till you tire of it - if you ever do. Sugar fairs no better, teeth grinded together in an attempt to keep his moans inside, part cursing your sweet, pretty little cunt for milking him so well and the other half falling in love with it - just like he knew he would. 
You feel it, the rushing heat and the snapping in your gut you cry out, voice cracking and breaking like the fraying of rope deep inside of you. Sugar fairs no better as his balls swell and twitch, hips now going at an irregular pace - he tugs down the strap of your shirt and brings you close, bringing his teeth down on the soft skin of your shoulder as he finally gives, painting and shooting the petals of your cunt white. You whine, chest-pounding and rising, pulsing weakly around his softening cock. You press your forehead to his cheek and look down at the shining, wet, and white mess that leaks from you.
You reach down to press at your clit to finish - just to milk the last bit of pleasure from your puffy cunt. Your trembling hand is swatted away by Suguru - you murmur his name with a bleating thank you - “Shh, let me do it.” he says to you, voice quiet and cracked as yours. His fingers swipe and rub at your pearl and you both whine when you come - cunt flexing and suckling his softened cock that rests inside you.
He keeps you there, he hasn’t let go of your hips and you bring him closer, pressing little kisses to his damp brow - he did most of the work.  You gaze at him lovingly from your position, he was sweet if not a little mean to you. You like that about him though, you think as you rake your fingers through his long as, content as he sighs and relaxes in your holds. It surprises you, how he goes from sweet to lustful and back to sweet but you suppose that’s what enthralls you about him.
He says your name and you blink slowly, oblivious as he coos at the sleepy look on your fucked out, sated face. You hum and lean closer to him, if possible. His hands rub at your hips, going further to your stomach and rubbing your stomach.
“Are you okay? Does anything hurt? Wasn’t exactly gentle with you.” He asked and you smiled at him the way you always do and nodded. Pressing another kiss to his face he laughs at how affectionate you are. He lifts you, this cock comes out with a slight pop and you whine at the feeling of your combined mess leaking down your thighs.
“I’ll get you a towel and water, stay here. I’ll make you some food too if you’re hungry.” You nod, wincing to keep your thighs pressed so you don’t make a mess - well a bigger mess than you’ve already made (you eye the drool stains and bite marks on the sofa).
“Suguru, wait!” You call as your face grows hot as the question blooms in your mind. You hear him hum from the small kitchen connected to the living room. He walks back to you, in hand with a water glass, and peers at you from the open doorway.
“Yeah?”
“Um..are we like? Dating now? Like boyfriend and girlfriend?” You avert your eyes and Suguru feels like laughing and dying with the look on your face, that of a blushing maiden as if he didn’t bring you to completion on your couch not even 5 mins prior. He comes close, hands the glass, and kisses your cheek sweetly.
“Yes, we are dating my blushing little maiden.” He laughs at your squawk and an indigent cry of - “Hey! Don’t call me that!” Pressing another kiss to your cheek from over the couch he smiles at you truly and soundly. You are as good as he always thought you’d be.
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