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#i sincerely can’t sometimes
kimchunsgha · 1 month
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some people are just in kpop spaces (like twt especially but here too sometimes) to hate on something even on the groups they supposedly “like” which is wild to me! i’m not talking about criticism, which is necessary every now and then, i’m talking about people that go on social media to tweet or post something negative about their fav or another group every single day because they are miserable and i’m sincerely asking… if you hate being a kpop stan so much wtf are you doing here then?? if you hate everything so much just leave and find other people to stan that are not kpop
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jesuistrestriste · 9 months
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sundays are for watching clips of mike faist’s performance as connor murphy and giggling every time he tucks his hair behind his ear
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seimei-chsq · 9 months
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i regret to inform you all that i just did ~30 minutes of basic beginner yoga and it did, in fact, help shut up the hobgoblin that lurks in my brain.
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teenjiism · 2 years
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thinking about vegas offering his heart up to pete, naked, bared, bleeding.
when he asks pete to be the one to kill him if it comes to it and confesses his love, he’s saying “here’s my heart, it’s yours for the taking. it’s your choice what you do with it. if it’s not you, nobody will want it, not even me. it only beats for you. if it’s not for you, i have no need for it.”
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sometimes when people say things to me it enters my brain and then instantly calcifies into this immutable truth that I then have to adjust my entire reality around and it makes life so so hard
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briarhips · 1 year
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Slept supremelybad except until it was just abt time to wake up. then I slept incredibly. And I could probably stay up rn bc I have so much hw. But I crave the unconscious invisible ghost high of deepest sleep. but I have. sm. hw 😭
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knowlesian · 2 years
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comfort with ambiguity: the first and best tool in any analysis attempt 
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allyougotisrain · 2 years
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Some peoples investment in “Succession is only ever a comedy” is so bizarre to me like even without all the actors/writers talking about how it’s a funny drama, have they really never heard of tragicomedy?
I feel like it’s a sense of superiority (I understand the show and you don’t so I’m better and cooler than you) combined with a paralyzing fear of missing the joke.
it’s like kendall and l to the og—kendall (the character, not jeremy) could’ve played this as a joke, could’ve intentionally played for laughs, could’ve been in on the joke, and the performance (while not very kendall) would have been funny and enjoyable. instead he was toe curlingly sincere and it was painful to watch. follow that up with a new yorker article where now jeremy is the one being toe curlingly sincere and is ridiculed for it—
these people do not want to be the object of ridicule. they do not want to risk sincerity when they should have been laughing. they want to be in on the joke, not the butt of it. sincerity takes courage in a world where it’s better to be ironic than genuine. you could be wrong. you could be the one getting laughed at. for someone already insecure in their own analysis, dependent upon others’ feedback and opinions to form their own, this is unbearable. so if people are calling this a comedy, there’s no way they’re going to be brave enough to say it’s not.
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ghostickle · 8 months
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I wish mental illness was taken more seriously not even just recognizing it as an actual issue but like realizing severe symptoms are a cause of a severe problem and my god stop calling me lazy or saying I’m just “not trying hard enough”
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call my name and i’ll come running ; satoru gojo
synopsis; satoru can be irritating, at times. but even if you push him away, he’ll always, always be there for you when you need him.
word count; 8.7k (this was supposed to b a short drabble but i was possessed by the devil halfway through)
contents; satoru gojo/reader, gn!reader, reader n toru have a fight, mild swearing (a couple fucks here n there), hurt/comfort, satoru has communication issues but he’s trying his best, depictions of stalking (reader gets followed by a random creep but satoru comes to the rescue dw), uhh implied thoughts of violence? (satoru wants to Maul said dude but doesn’t), literally just me being in love with satoru gojo for 8.7k words straight
a/n; no thoughts head empty only gojo running through the streets like a wild beast looking for u <33 im normal about him yeah.
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“you’re so annoying sometimes, you know that?”
satoru smiles. the sentence isn’t one he’s unaccustomed to hearing.
usually, the words are soaked in an undeniable fondness, as they spill from your lips. rich with exasperated love. one that never fails to have the corners of satoru’s lips curling up, a mellow kind of joy blossoming in his chest.
but now, that fondness is nowhere to be found. 
you sound thoroughly exasperated, and a little bit fatigued. more than anything else, there’s a vague irritation behind the tilt of your voice, something almost cold. it makes all the difference in the world. 
and yet, despite that, a certain someone chooses to pay no heed to the bad omen.
“aw, c’mon. you know you love me, baby.”
satoru is grinning. lighthearted, awfully sweet. there’s a certain smugness to it, though, one he couldn’t wash away even if he was aware of it; you wouldn’t do so even if you could. that smugness is a part of him, one that you’d usually find endearing. 
but right now, it only seeks to further your frustration.
it was a stupid fight, truthfully. completely meaningless. satoru had forgotten to pick up after himself for, like, the fourth consecutive time, and so you grew annoyed. not by a lot, but enough that you felt the need to be firm when you reminded him not to make the same mistake over and over again.
but satoru had only grinned, in that self-satisfied fashion of his, and apologized in a way you couldn’t possibly call sincere. then he did what he usually does — promises to work on it. to not do it again. he never follows through, though.
but even that thought wasn’t anywhere near enough to make you truly angry. what really began to irk you was the fact that satoru wasn’t taking you seriously, even in the slightest.
that’s how he always is, when it comes to this kind of thing. and you try to be patient, you do. you try to be understanding. sometimes you even appreciate that he keeps the atmosphere light, but other times, you just can’t help but feel irritated by it.
and the current situation happens to fall into the latter category.
you don’t care if satoru leaves a candy wrapper or two out, every once in a while. of course you don’t. it’s a silly thing to argue about. but would it hurt for him to just listen to you? to try to put himself in your shoes, for once? it’s not about the wrappers, or the undone dishes. it’s about the way he treats you when you complain about it — like it’s no big deal, like it doesn’t matter. even if it obviously does, to you.
so, gradually, the topic of your little argument began to shift, into a conversation about satoru. about the fact that he so adamantly refuses to talk about the things that bother you in a serious fashion. about the fact that he so adamantly refuses to take you seriously.
and he just keeps proving your point, with every word that falls from his lips.
at this point, you’re genuinely beginning to feel a little angry. but satoru doesn’t see that as the warning sign it is — he just thinks it’s cute. he’s just been cooing at you, this whole time, despite your numerous attempts to actually explain how much his behavior affects you sometimes. it feels a bit like talking to a wall. satoru keeps on teasing you, even as you try to be firm about your point, and only brushes you off with empty promises to do better and more unneeded comments about how much he wants to hug you when you pout like that.
and you falter, a little. of course you do. you’re weak to satoru. weak to his words, that sweet voice of his, that pretty grin. but that only makes everything worse, because if you let yourself look even a little bit flustered at his comments, he sees that as his cue to continue.
you don’t even know if he’s doing it on purpose, at this point. is he doing it because he knows it’ll annoy you, or does he genuinely not understand that you’re upset? you’d like to think that there’s no malicious intent behind it, but can’t he see how troubled you are? you don’t get it. you don’t get him, and that frustrates you most of all. satoru can be so goddamn convoluted, sometimes.
so you simply can’t help but feel annoyed. angry, even. how long have you been arguing for, at this point? you’re not sure. but you feel the frustration inside of you grow, as the minutes tick by, into something you know will eventually explode.
a sigh falls from your lips, deep and exasperated. a little bit exhausted. “i’m serious, satoru. you’re not even listening.”
“i am!” he protests, stubbornly. childishly. “you just look so cute when you’re all mad. not my fault you’re so distracting.”
satoru smiles, voice sugar sweet, but all you can do is frown. does he really think it’s cute that you’re upset? the thought makes you somewhat sad. but you can’t show that, can’t let that part of you win — you don’t even want to think about the possibility of you crying, because of this. yeah, no way in hell. 
so instead, you channel it into anger. as the blood inside your veins comes to a boiling point, you dig your nails into the skin of your palms, gnawing at your bottom lip and shifting from one foot to another.
”satoru, i’m —” another sigh, sharp and vexed like the blade of a knife. ”i’m trying to have a serious conversation, here. can’t you see that i’m upset?”
satoru takes a moment to look at you, from behind the black glass of his shades.
he can. of course he can see that. you’re frowning, and there’s a crease between your brows, and you keep huffing and sighing every three seconds — you’re obviously, undoubtedly upset. and satoru wants to take you seriously, he does. it’s just that the part of his brain that only ever wants to coddle and tease you keeps persuading him not to.
he’s not lying, either; you do look cute. almost too cute to take seriously, when you’re pouting so sweetly, a little red in the face from all the frustration bubbling inside your chest. you look so small, glaring up at him like an angry puppy. 
satoru can’t help but smile. it’d be impossible not to.
and he will listen to you, will take you seriously. he knows you’re angry, knows you’re upset, and he intends to deal with that properly. but he doesn’t need to do it right now.
just a little more teasing, before he has to stop beating around the bush. satoru dreads it, a little bit, dreads having to genuinely be serious, be open and apologetic. it always feels so strange, so discomforting. 
all that stuff can wait until later. for now, he just wants to see you blush a little more, huff and puff at his limitless affection, that he knows you love deep down. where’s the harm?
(and therein lies the problem. satoru is observant, and typically good at seeing the line that he shouldn’t cross when it comes to you. but there are times when he slips up, times when he doesn’t realize that his words have begun to sting. times when the line becomes blurry, because he knows some part of you enjoys the way he babies you, and sometimes it blinds him to the part of you that doesn’t.)
satoru is smiling. it’s the same as always — big, bright, glazed over with honey-sweet adoration. smug and teasing. it’s such a satoru-like smile that it makes your breath hitch, sometimes, makes your heart race with wonder. but now all it does is annoy you. everything you love about satoru is annoying you, right now. 
in your eyes, that pretty smile of his seems almost taunting. like he’s trying to pick a fight with you, trying to make you even more upset. you don’t want to blow up over something like this, you really really don’t — but for some reason, you feel dangerously close to. it’s not like you at all.
you bore into his eyes with a cold glare, even though you can’t exactly see them with his shades in the way. posture straight and rigid as you try to make yourself look bigger. you must look at least a little bit menacing, like this. right?
“i’m seriously angry with you,” you say, hoping your voice sounds as austere to his ears as it does to yours. “don’t you get that?”
satoru coos, unable to hold the sound back. he doesn’t notice the flicker of hurt in your eyes, only focusing on how the sunset rays frame your figure, kissing your skin with sun-soaked fervor. you look so pretty. and that angry look on your face is too tantalizing not to tease.
“aww,” he croons, inching closer to you. there’s a teasing glint in his eyes that you can’t see, unmistakably fond. “is my little baby that upset?”
you blink. his voice sounds even more sugar-sweet now, obviously exaggerated. there’s amusement there, too — like this is just one big joke to him. you think he must be doing it to belittle you, to embarrass you. speaking to you like you’re some kind of grumpy toddler, and not a grown adult trying to have a serious conversation with their partner. your blood boils, boils, boils.
— and so the cup overflows.
“oh, go fuck yourself.”
it’s almost in a hiss that the words fall from your lips, cold and harsh; they leave the confines of your throat before you have a chance to reconsider them, sudden and sickeningly heavy. crude, too. you’d never be so crass with him under normal circumstances.
but you’re overwhelmed, thoroughly and completely, and satoru is being particularly infuriating. you genuinely feel hurt by the way he’s disregarding your feelings, and that realization stings more than anything. 
so you can’t help but say the words, louder than you meant to, before turning on your heel swiftly and walking out of the room. 
you don’t even have time to register what you’re doing, legs moving on their own before your mind can catch up. brisk and heavy steps carry you to the door, all while you furiously attempt to blink away the tears of frustration that begin to form in your eyes.
it only takes a second for you to grab your jacket — then you’re out.
satoru hears the front door close, echoing off the walls of your apartment. you don’t quite slam it shut, but you close it with more force than usual, and he can’t help but inwardly wince.
a moment passes. 
then, he flops down on the couch, lanky arms and legs dangling uncomfortably off the edges. the groan that slips from his lips is muffled by the soft cushion as he burrows his face into it, while replaying your interaction inside his mind.
satoru can’t help but feel uncomfortable, with this conclusion. a little bit irked. a vague something rests inside his chest, something he doesn’t quite want to admit to feeling. it makes him feel a little bit sick.
(”oh, go fuck yourself.”)
he can’t recall you ever raising your voice at him like that. when it comes to him, you’re usually so patient; soft, understanding, gentle. for you to have snapped in such a way — to have stormed out of the apartment in your anger — he must have pushed you pretty far.
satoru sighs.
he really pissed you off, huh?
(he can never quite seem to get this right, can he?)
it was never his intention to make you genuinely mad. he just lost sight of the line, for a second. that’s all.
and maybe he was also trying to avoid the issue, trying to avoid actually arguing with you. because he hates it. he hates it more than anything. satoru would much rather see you smile and blush than act all serious and sad. 
he just wanted to make you laugh.
was it insensitive? yeah, probably. he just can’t help but fuck this up, it seems. now he’s gone and made you angry — and as much as the sight would usually thrill him, as cute as you look when you’re irritated, a pit of anxiety settles in his gut. everything just feels wrong.
more than anything, satoru feels restless. because, right now, there’s nothing he can do. he can’t chase after you, even if just to apologize — that’d make you even angrier.
he knows he needs to give you space. you were obviously overwhelmed; some fresh air will do you good.
it irks him, though. satoru wants to fix it. he always wants to fix everything, before it even breaks. and even now, all his mind can do is spin in circles, wondering how he could possibly cheer you up.
he’ll just have to apologize, when you get back. and hope you forgive him. maybe he can get you something sweet to munch on, or a bouquet of flowers. would that make everything okay again?
satoru doesn’t know. so he just scratches his head, and tries his damndest not to think of how defeated you looked before leaving.
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your steps are heavy, dragging you forward, leading you somewhere you have no knowledge of. it’s chilly out, and the sun is already setting.
everything in the world feels so wrong. like it’s tilted slightly to the left, like the earth stopped spinning around its axis. like everything suddenly lost its saturation. 
you just needed to get away from him, for a while. away from that smug smile, that patronizing tilt of his voice. you couldn’t even stand to be in the same apartment as him. it’s not often you feel that way, not often at all. 
and it only increases your growing frustration. 
you are beginning to calm down, though — you know you are. the crisp evening air and the pleasant mingle of people soothes your muddled senses, smoothing down the crease of your brow and the ache in your chest.
a heavy discomfort, and a growing guilt. that’s all you can feel, as the anger slowly seeps out of you, turning into vapour with every exhale of your breath.
you hate arguing with satoru. you hate it more than anything. the guilt clawing at your chest barely leaves any room for anger — you almost yelled at him. just the thought of doing that to satoru makes you want to cry.
because you love him, at the end of the day, even when he’s being absolutely insufferable. he’s a sweetheart, your sweet boy, always trying to lighten the mood and make you smile. maybe you should have been a bit more understanding; you know satoru’s bad at this stuff, bad with emotions and vulnerability. and deep down, you know he’d never hurt you, not on purpose.
he probably just didn’t realize that you were genuinely upset. it’s a mistake that anyone could make.
but it just makes you feel so frustrated. like he’s not even looking at you. always hiding behind those shades, never opening up. never letting you see him wear anything but a smile. you want him to take it slow, open up to you at his own pace, but that doesn’t make the wait sting any less.
it’s not like you were asking for a lot. first, you simply asked him to pick up after himself. the way you do, the way anyone does. then, you simply asked him to treat you with respect.
a sudden pang of bitterness runs through your chest. sure, you could’ve handled it all better — but he could have, too.
every step you take hits the pavement with an irritated kind of decision. whatever. whatever. for now, you don’t want to think about it — all you want is to walk around and take in the sights, enjoy the peace and quiet.
so that’s exactly what you do.
before you know it, the sun has set, and the moon has risen — shining down and painting the streets in a mesmerizing blue, ephemeral and tranquil. it’s enough to give you some peace of mind, as you lurk around familiar streets, soaking in all the open space. so different from that suffocating apartment, and the man inside it, with that shit-eating grin and those breathtaking eyes.
(he’s called you, a couple times. you haven’t been gone for long — an hour or so, you think, maybe two. some part of you wanted to answer, just to hear his voice through the phone, but the part of you that’s still awfully irritated shut that down immediately. so, stubbornly, you just let it ring.)
the streets are empty, and the sky is dark. the light of all the lampposts illuminate your way, along with the soft flicker of the moon and stars. an endless galaxy stretches out before your eyes, little pale dots of stardust shining like jewels.
an ever-lasting, never-changing sky, that continues on for infinity. limitless. all the space you could possibly want, and then some.
for a moment, you can only look at the glittering stars in wonder, soaking in the feeling of absolute solitude. 
— it doesn’t last, though.
“you alone?”
a sudden voice calls out from behind you. close, discerningly so, enough to make you flinch. you curse yourself for not noticing anything sooner, caught up in looking at the starry sky, in angling your phone to take a picture of it.
hesitantly, you turn your gaze towards the sound — wincing under your breath when you see the man a couple steps away from you. he looks a little crazed, you think, shifting from foot to foot and hunching over. 
oh fuck no.
great, just what you needed. that’s just your luck, isn’t it? your brain can only spin in circles, trying to get your body to react, to run. to do literally anything except just stand there like a deer caught in headlights.
in your nervosity, all you manage is a painfully awkward laugh, as you stutter out a halfhearted response.
“oh — no, i’m just waiting for my boyfriend!” you smile, unconvincingly. your face must be soaked in unease. whatever he wants with you, it can’t be anything good.
at least you said that one word clearly — boyfriend. you can only hope it’s enough to scare him away.
but the man only shifts a little more, emitting a gruff kind of hum, not saying anything else. your spine tingles with apprehension. every cell in your body wants you to leave. he seems a little intoxicated, you think, and the thought only stirs the anxious feeling in your chest further.
god. why does this have to happen to you? why now?
thankfully, you’ve got your phone in hand. as your mind scrambles for solutions, your fingers tap at the screen, urgently scrolling through your contacts. in such a frightened state, your acting must be positively awful, but you make a vague attempt. not like you’re getting any oscars for this, either way.
“sorry — he’s calling me now!” you stammer out, taking a step away from the man. he doesn’t make a move to follow you, so you take your chances and press your phone to your ear, feet carrying you forward with haste.
in your fear, you don’t think twice about calling satoru — but you can’t help but internally wince at the decision, as the anxious patter of your own heart resounds in your ears.
how are you supposed to talk to him, exactly? what are you supposed to say? hey, i know i just told you to go fuck yourself, but will you hear me out? i need your help. 
and you do. you do need his help. all you want is for him to swoop in, to take you in his arms, your knight in shining armor.
satoru’s said it to you, before — that if you need anything, anything at all, you can come to him. that you can always, always lean on him, without exception. 
you know that he likes helping you. likes it when you open up to him, when you put your trust in him. when you aren’t afraid to ask for his help.
so despite everything, you hold your phone to your ear, walking away with brisk steps and praying that he’s not petty enough to ignore your call like you did to his.
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back home, satoru is still resting on the couch, tapping his feet and trying to distract himself. 
he’s a little anxious. it’s dark out, and you’re not answering any of his calls. when you’re out of sight, like this, he can’t help but feel a little helpless — worried about everything that could happen to you. but it’s not like he can force you to pick up. 
you’re probably at a friend’s house, or something. telling them all about what an asshole your boyfriend is. as much as the thought stings, satoru hopes it’s true; it’s all he can comfort himself with. anything is fine as long as you aren’t out walking alone, in the cold, in the dark.
entirely caught up in his spiralling thoughts, satoru almost flinches when the phone rings. laying on the table in front of him, just within arm’s reach. it only takes a second for him to react as his gaze flits to the bright screen, and he sees the contact name, the many heart emojis littering it.
with a start, satoru jumps up. his back straightens out, and his hand flies to grab the phone — he’d feel embarrassed at his own eagerness, but right now he just can’t help it. even under ordinary circumstances, he wouldn’t let the phone ring more than twice, always giddy to hear your voice whenever possible. 
this time, however, he does falter slightly.
he takes a split second to simply stare at the phone in his hand, at the affectionate contact name. what is he supposed to say to you, exactly? how is he supposed to act?
satoru doesn’t know, but as if afraid that you’ll change your mind and stop the call, yourself, he opts to simply answer. he’ll just have to figure out what to say on the fly.
(unfortunately, satoru’s instinctual response to anything is either smugness or playfulness.)
“well, well. look who finally decided to pick up.”
you’re the one who called him, not the other way around — but satoru can’t be bothered with small details like that right now. he only hopes you don’t notice the faint nervosity in his voice, the stiffness as he tries to sound unbothered.
you don’t notice anything at all, mind far too muddled, too clouded by fear. all you can do is take a deep breath, desperately trying to grasp control over your wavering voice.
“— satoru?” you call out, voice meek and frail. the man in question notices it immediately, sitting up a little straighter, but before he can say anything you continue. “i’m sorry, i just — are — are you still at home?”
there’s an anxious tilt to your voice, one that’d be impossible for satoru to miss. your words are a little breathy, spoken in a fast tempo, and he feels a sudden dread crawl up his spine.
something is wrong, his senses alert him.
“yeah,” he hums, trying to hide the turmoil in his own voice. “why? is everything okay?”
the line is quiet, for a second. “it’s just —“ an exhale, as you once again attempt to steer your voice in a less nervous direction. “just… some creepy guy tried to talk to me. i told him i was waiting for my boyfriend and now i’m walking away from him but he’s still following me.” another exhale, as you worriedly sneak a glance over your shoulder. ”i just — i don’t know what to —”
“where are you?”
satoru cuts you off, voice eerily serious. his gaze turned cold the moment he heard creepy guy, legs moving him towards the coat rack by the front door as if on autopilot. 
he’s already left the apartment by the time you answer, looking around you meekly.
“i… don’t know,” you sigh. “i’m not far. i walked past that one crêpe stand by the park but then i, like… continued up that street? and now i don’t really know where i’m going.”
you continue, a little exasperated as your gaze flits around the dark street. attempting to recall your steps, a difficult task with how on edge you feel. “i’ll try to look for a sign, or something,” you gulp. “… i’m sorry. i just wanted to get away from him.”
satoru’s voice is comforting, when he speaks, eager to console you. grounding and soft. “hey, it’s okay. i’m heading there now, alright?” he smiles, hoping you’ll hear it in his voice. “i’ll be there before you know it.”
you do hear it, and his words ease a little of the anxiety in your chest, despite your fear. “okay.” 
the line grows quiet, again, and your brows furrow in worry. “can — can i keep talking to you?” you ask, uncertain. a little pitiful. ”please?”
“of course,” satoru answers, instantaneous. he’s already making his way towards the crêpe stand with decision in his steps, mentally scanning the area ahead. despite his own anxiety at the situation, he attempts to sound as secure as he can possibly manage, desperate to soothe the worry in your voice.
“try to relax for me, okay? nobody’s gonna hurt you. not while i’m here.”
his words are absolute, as he consoles you. he sounds so sure of himself, so much that you can’t help but believe in his words. so you nod, emitting a weak hum when you remember he can’t see you.
“can you tell me what you see, baby?”
“uhh…” you look around, blindly, trying to find some sort of meaningful hint around you. “there’s like… some toy shop?” 
satoru only hums. “can you check your location on your phone?” 
you blink. 
of course. why on earth didn’t that cross your mind before? 
“oh — yeah — fuck. i’m sorry. i don’t know why i didn’t —“ you sigh, heavy. “hold on.”
following satoru’s instructions swiftly, your gaze scans over the screen. he waits, patiently, already heading past the park and up ahead. as soon as you succeed in finding the name of the street, you echo it to him.
satoru sighs, a little relieved. “okay,” he hums. “i’m not that far away. i’ll be there soon.” he only hopes his words can soothe your fear, even a little. “is he still following you?”
you glance behind you, and meet the gaze of the stranger. just like you were afraid of, he’s still following you — if anything, he seems to have gotten a little closer. with a jolt, your heartbeat picks up.
“yeah,” you gulp. 
satoru’s chest tightens. he emits a low hum. “just hold on. i’ll hurry.”
focusing only on the tilt of satoru’s voice, you try to calm your breathing. you just want to see him. the thought of doing so is the only thing keeping your trembling ribcage intact, at this point. 
you swallow a shaky breath.
“thanks, toru.”
a sudden pang of ache sprouts in satoru’s chest, like thorny vines curling around his ribcage. his heart hurts. you sound so scared, so very small. 
this is all his fault, he thinks. all of it. he got too careless; none of this would’ve happened if he had only been more considerate. if he had just stopped you from leaving and apologized, or hadn’t upset you in the first place. then he wouldn’t have to hear that scared little voice, wouldn’t have to imagine your body shaking like a leaf in the cold night. so far away from him. 
but satoru can’t beat himself up over it, not yet. there’ll be more than enough time for that later. for now, he needs to get to you — that’s the only thing on his mind.
so he lets his feet carry him forward, running towards your location with bated breath. he’s sure you can hear it, through the phone, even though he tries to contain it.
the sound consoles you, if anything. it reminds you that satoru is there, that he’s on his way. that there’s no need to be scared. 
but you can’t help but freak out, a little, when you hear the man call out from behind you.
“hey!” he slurs, stumbling towards you with unsteady steps. his voice is loud, angry, and it sends your mind reeling into panic mode.
a flinch overtakes your body, before you stumble forward, walking even faster than before. you’re almost running now, breath hitching as you gulp. satoru hears it all — your panic, the echo of the man. his own tempo picks up.
“baby, calm down, okay?” he consoles you, voice concerned and honey-sweet. “just keep walking. i’m almost there.”
“sorry —“ you squeak out, between flurry breaths. breathing uneven, laboured and anxious. but you try your best to calm down. “‘s just scary.”
it almost feels physical, the way it irks him. satoru wants to pull you close, more than anything, but he can’t. and that just makes the calamity inside his chest grow, clawing at his ribcage as if trying to escape, to go to your side. 
(he never, ever wants to hear that kind of fear in your voice again.)
“i know,” he soothes. “you’re doing good, honey. listen — he’s not gonna touch you. i won’t let him. you have nothing to be scared of.”
you nod, even as you exhale a shaky breath. ”i know.” 
and you do. you know there’s a truth, to satoru’s words, one that’s never failed you before.
because satoru is your safe space, at the end of the day — he can be annoying, outright insufferable, and sometimes he’s bad with emotions. but he tries, you know he does. and, more than anything else, you know that he’ll always, always be there when you need him. he’ll always be there to protect you. 
and a part of you is sure that everything will be okay, as long as he’s around.
(it’s easy to forget how trustworthy satoru really is, how much he cares. how dependable he is. and how serious he can get, when he truly needs to be, despite his childishness. it’s moments like these that remind you of that.)
but it’s still scary, at the end of the day. you can’t help but feel uncomfortable, a little lost in the world. because you and satoru just fought, you just told him to go fuck himself, and yet here he is. running to your side, in the middle of the night, because you’re scared and alone and you need him.
the man continues to shout, behind you, muttering curses you can’t quite make out. you look over your shoulder nervously, steps hurried.
and satoru runs like a man possessed, through the moonlit streets, gaze scanning the area like a wild beast. his most visceral instinct is screaming at him, tugging at his flesh and bones, desperate to protect you. to comfort you. to wash all your worries away. 
as he makes a sharp turn, he momentarily stops the movement, halting to look around. he thinks he must look a little crazed, with the moonlight illuminating his eyes, but he couldn’t care less.
especially not when his gaze lands on a certain person, further down the street — small and alone.
your eyes meet his.
with the darkness of the street, it’s hard to make anything out, but the light of the lamppost helps. though even without it, satoru’s sure he’d know it was you, just from the sensation that unfurls in his chest as his gaze lands on your figure. 
an audible sigh of immense relief falls from his lips, and his tense shoulders relax, eyes softening just a tad. he hears a similar noise coming from the phone in his grasp, and he assumes that means you recognize him too. not bothering to end the call, he puts it in his pocket, walking over to you with brisk steps. 
you stumble towards him, yourself, the worried crease between your brows now smoothed away. the closer he gets, the faster you move, until you can see the blue of his eyes. two pocket-sized moons.
satoru swoops you in for a hug before either of you can say anything.
he cradles you close, awfully close, so close you can hear his heavy breathing against your ear. it tickles your neck, along with his soft hair, and you shiver. his fragrance envelops your senses, a blend between fresh laundry, strawberries and some expensive cologne. your favorite scent in the world. 
and suddenly, the world is devoid of danger. nothing can get to you while satoru’s there. all that exists is you, and him, and the soft flicker of the moon.
satoru squeezes you tightly, ensuring himself over and over again that you’re safe. he might be squeezing you a little too tight, but he can’t bring himself to think about that just yet.
finally, that growing calamity inside his chest is satiated. winding down at the feeling of you pressed up against him, the indisputable proof that you’re okay. with you in his arms, satoru feels like everything is alright, again.
the fear inside his chest, so foreign it leaves him shaken to the very core, finally begins to dissipate too. he doesn’t think there’s anything that makes him feel quite as hopeless as the thought of not being there for you when you need him. he never wants to feel that fear again. it’s suffocating. it crushes his lungs.
all he can do is hold you close, his big palm smoothing down your hair, the back of your head, your spine. warm and comforting. keeping you steady against him. he can feel your heartbeat, rapid and anxious, so fast that his heart aches. satoru is eager to soothe you, eager to make it go away.
”i’m here, baby,” he breathes, rubbing his cheek against the side of your head. ”you’re safe now.”
the words are spoken softly, right by your ear, and you exhale a shaky breath. you’re bundling up his clothing with your fists, anchoring yourself to him. after a little while, you let go, opting to wrap your arms around his midriff instead. nuzzling into his broad chest, you try to blink away your tears and contain your sniffles.
you nod against him, and satoru kisses the crown of your head.
and, finally, his gaze strays. it falls farther down the street, until it lands on a certain man — shifting from one foot to another. watching you both in silence.
the calamity inside his chest rouses from its slumber, once more.
satoru makes sure to keep his hands on you, still rubbing your back with one steady palm cradling the back of your head. keeping your face hidden in his chest, safe and secure.
then he raises his head, back straight, full height on display as his eyes meet the stranger’s. he can tell they do, even with the distance, the darkness of the street.
and satoru knows he looks menacing. he knows the light of the lamppost illuminates his figure perfectly, framing his tall stature and broad shoulders. and he knows the moonlight caressing his skin illuminates his face, his cold eyes — blue and uncanny, glowing even brighter than the moon. staring daggers into the man’s soul. if looks could kill, there wouldn’t even be any remains left to find.
the man stiffens, visibly, and satoru delights in it. he doesn’t leave, though, and for a second satoru wonders if he’s really intoxicated enough to come closer — 
but, sure enough, all he does is stagger a little. then he walks away, grumbling under his breath, hands in his pockets.
and satoru isn’t satisfied, with this conclusion. not in the slightest. he wants to run up to the man, wants to hold him up by the throat, wants to tell him off. because he has the nerve to terrorize someone like that, stalk them with intentions he knows can’t be anything but revolting. the nerve to do that to you, of all the people in the world —
satoru doesn’t know if he’s hated anyone quite as much. 
and a part of him wants to make him cower. make him fear for his life, just to make sure he never does anything like this again. leave him with a fear so great it’ll linger for as long as he’s alive.
(and a more animalistic side of satoru, one he doesn’t want to acknowledge, wants to do things that are much, much worse.)
— but you come first. without question, and without exception. he refuses to leave you alone, and refuses to make you look at the man for even a second more. 
so he’ll focus on you, entirely.
he can tell you’re still shaken up, heartbeat pulsating against him, little flutters of life prickling his skin. there’s a desperation in the way you hug his waist, like he could disappear at any moment. like he’ll slip away if you don’t keep him close. the sight tugs at satoru’s heartstrings. 
his first priority is to soothe you, always and forever. so that’s exactly what he does.
satoru smiles. it’s small, in the wake of the situation, but awfully sincere. fingers reaching down to trace over your jaw, he gently urges you to look at him; when you do so, hesitant, he cups your cheek with his palm.
your teary eyes feel like daggers to his heart, an unmistakable proof of his failure. his failure to protect you, to keep you safe and happy. but at the same time, he’s glad, from the bottom of his heart — that you’d let him see you like this. even after everything.
you look very meek, blinking the tears away as you look into his eyes. they’re bright, and comforting. you wonder if he left the shades at home, if he rushed over here so hurriedly that he didn’t think to bring them with him. you’re happy, in any case — the effect they have on you is undeniable. 
you can’t bring yourself to look away, consoled by the flickers of white inside his irises, like fluffy clouds in the blue sky. ever-lasting, never-changing.
satoru tilts his head, smile sweet and understanding. ”that was scary, hm?” 
his voice is tender, somehow so mature. like he’s some older, wiser being, comforting a scared child. it’s so soothing, so very grounding.
squeezing your eyes shut, you can only bring yourself to nod, as you nuzzle back into his chest.
”you’re okay now, honey,” satoru coos, smoothing down your back as you sniffle. an immense softness seeps through his whisper. ”i’ll always be here to protect you.”
there’s a truth to the statement, heavy and pious. like an oath, a pledge, something for you to believe in unquestioningly. you allow yourself to soak in the words, knowing them to be true.
you’re safe, now. there’s nothing to be afraid of anymore. satoru’s here, and he’s hugging you, pressing kisses against your shoulder.
but you just can’t stop crying.
when you speak up, your voice is weak, barely above a whisper. close to breaking apart at the seams. too tired after everything to resist the guilt inside your veins, you sniffle, and part your lips.
”i’m sorry i yelled at you.”
satoru stills.
then, his gaze softens, considerably. he hears himself coo, softly, palm smoothing down the back of your head. 
his sweet angel. apologizing to him, when he’s the one who started this whole mess. when you’re still so shaken up. because he let you leave the house angry, because he made you angry in the first place. because he didn’t see how important the discussion was to you.
(“you’re not even listening.”)
yeah. he wasn’t. he didn’t really want to.
an acute sense of shame. an intense guilt. that’s what he’s been trying to push down, all this time. that’s the unnamed something. 
it’s hard for him. to be as sincere as you, as open with his feelings and emotions. as mature. because even in a situation like this, you can swallow your pride and frustration, and apologize. even when you aren’t in the wrong. you’re always the bigger person, always the one to give in first, because he’s too stubborn to do so himself.
next time, satoru pledges, he won’t let you. next time he’ll be the one to swallow his pride.
because, yes, being vulnerable and admitting that he was in the wrong makes him feel a little like he’s being skewered alive — but you’re important to him. he loves you. and he wants you to know how much he trusts you, how special you truly are. 
if he can show you that, by being a little sincere, a little serious, then any discomfort he feels in the process is a small price to pay.
satoru’s lips meet the crown of your head, as he encircles your smaller frame, arms reaching around your neck to pull you close. he rests his jaw lightly on the top of your head, breathing in your scent. ”you have nothing to apologize for, baby.”
a pause lingers between the words he’s already said and the ones he yearns to say, but can’t seem to pull out from within his throat. it takes effort, to squeeze them out; but every time he replays your own apology in his mind, it gets a little easier. he squeezes you lightly before opening his mouth, as if to give him strenght.
“i’m sorry.”
you blink. 
for once, satoru sounds sincere when he apologizes — almost painfully so. bordering on something you think may be nervosity. you try to look up, to catch a glimpse of his expression, but he keeps you hidden in the crook of his neck.
”i was being immature,” he continues, sighing. you don’t know if you’ve ever heard satoru sound so uncomfortable. ”you know how bad i am with this stuff. but i never want to — you know.” 
he makes a gesture with one of his hands, as if that will say the words for him.
“— i didn’t mean to upset you. honestly.” satoru inhales the cold air, in hopes it’ll make him more honest. “you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”
you listen. intently, not missing a word, not a single tilt of his voice. it all sounds so genuine, almost foreign on his tongue. satoru seems to be trying to find the right words, grumbling a little under his breath. 
he’s cute, like this. kind of awkward, but that only makes him cuter. you nuzzle closer to him, comforted by his very existence.
”… i’ll work on it,” he whispers, at last. “i’ll listen to you. i promise. i really, really will.” 
you think satoru’s voice wavers, just a little, when he says his final piece. 
“so please don’t cry.”
this time, satoru doesn’t stop you when you attempt to lift your gaze, loosening his arms around you and raising his head from where it rests on top of yours. 
your eyes meet. satoru is smiling, weakly. he tilts his head, looking at you with something you could only ever describe as love.
”okay?”
such a lovely smile. so painfully genuine. his eyes are on full display, shining in the dark of the night, like splotches of moonlight. like someone stole the moon down to earth, and carved out little pieces to put in his irises. an ethereal hue.
he’s so gorgeous. hair just a tad messy, tousled from all the running he did to get here. cheeks a little red from the cold. when he smiles, his eyes crinkle. but he looks almost pained. 
(he was so, so worried.)
blinking away the tears clinging to your lashes, you simply stare, entirely mesmerized by the sight. satoru’s thumb goes to wipe at your glassy eyes, smoothing away the drops that threaten to fall. you want to engrave his expression into your memory, so you can never forget it. but it’s just a little too much.
so you hide in his chest, once more. the word that falls from your lips is tiny. “okay.”
satoru smiles, kissing the top of your head with a relieved exhale. bathing in your presence, still reeling from his show of vulnerability. he feels a little like he just cut himself open, let you peek inside his ribcage. the night air stings his skin. 
but you’re so warm, hugging him tightly, breathing and heartbeat finally relaxed. 
(he doesn’t mind it, not if it’s you — having you look inside his chest. if you asked, he’d let you build a shelter there. right between his fourth and fifth ribs.)
now that the words are out of his throat, they don’t burn at all. satoru feels a little silly, for being so scared to say them out loud. he knows you’d never use them against him.
all you do is snuggle closer, as if silently conveying your forgiveness.
you stand there for just a little while longer, wallowing in the tender atmosphere. finally, satoru makes a move to leave, and you begin to walk back home.
“sure you’re okay now, baby?”
you nod, exhaling a flurry breath. it turns into vapour in the cold of the air, drifting up and dissipating in the expanding starry sky. “yeah. thanks for coming so quickly.”
“of course,” satoru only says, choking back a yawn. 
your hands are intertwined, and he’s halfheartedly swinging them back and forth. it soothes your anxiety, and satoru’s protective instincts. you know neither of you will slip away, like this.
you shiver a little, subconsciously inching closer to satoru to protect you from the harsh bite of the midnight breeze. he notices, giving you a glance and a tilt of his head. “you cold?” 
“just a little,” you mutter, smiling weakly as you look up at him. ”i’m fine.”
satoru huffs. did you really think he’d be dissuaded by such a weak retort? there’s no way he’s letting you walk around all cold and shivering. 
so you come to a standstill, as satoru begins to shrug off his coat. he refuses to let go of your hand for even a second, making the process slower than usual — your heart flutters a little, as his fingers curl around yours, delicately. 
when he finally gets it off him, he wastes no time in draping it over your shoulders. it’s big on you, warm and soft, shielding you from the chilly air. satoru can’t help but giggle sheepishly, as he always does at the sight — you look so cute. 
“c’mon. let’s go home,” he grins, ruffling your hair teasingly.
satoru doesn’t feel cold, not in the slightest, as he holds your hand tightly. just your presence is enough to warm his bones to the marrow.
the silence between you is comforting and soothing, as you continue to walk. hand in hand, admiring the starry sky. you’re both too tired to speak — but satoru does so, anyway.
“i meant it, y’know.” satoru sounds sleepy, but earnest. ”i really will work on it.”
he doesn’t look at you when he says it, yawning softly and stretching his free arm. gaze fixed on the morning star. 
“oh.” you pause, squirming a little. sheepish. “thank you. i’m sorry that i — i mean.” a sigh. “i probably overreacted a little.”
satoru shakes his head, waving off your guilt. “nah. you’re right. i never want you to feel like i’m not taking you seriously.”
his gaze meets yours, tentatively. his eyes shine like wedding rings. “you mean a lot to me.”
the sincere words manifest themselves as a heavy pressure to your chest, closing in on your heart as if crushing it. it’s a pleasant sensation, though, overwhelming as it is. you’re a little scared that your knees will buckle if he keeps this up, but even if they do, you wouldn’t want him to stop — satoru’s love is terrifically overwhelming when there’s nothing to hide it, when it’s just love and nothing else.
but you’d never reject it. you’d let it crush you to death with a smile on your face.
all you can do is avert your gaze, afraid that you’ll fall into the blue sea of his eyes if you don’t. heavy thumps of blood resound in your ears as your heart beats, warmth spreading throughout your entire body.
“… you mean a lot to me, too.” you echo, holding his hand just a little tighter. warmth rises to your cheeks. “i just felt really frustrated, i guess. like you were looking down on me. i know you weren’t actually, though.”
satoru chews at the inside of his cheek, almost anxiously. “i know i can be a little much sometimes,” he says, tasting the words on his tongue. “and i appreciate you for putting up with that. i’m sorry i let it go too far. i’ll be more considerate.”
your heart stutters in your chest. you’re not sure what to say — the way he forms his words makes them feel so absolute. and you believe him.
“i’ll be more considerate, too,” you echo, looking down at the pavement. “i shouldn’t have blown up like that.” a pause. you mumble, quietly, a little embarrassed. “i shouldn’t have told you to go fuck yourself.”
satoru breathes out an amused huff, chuckling lightheartedly. his eyes carry a teasing glint when they meet yours. “i probably deserved that. no worries.”
“still,” you pout. satoru giggles. 
“we’ll both work on it, then,” he hums, tilting his head to find your gaze. “right?”
you blink. a small smile breaks out across your face. “right.”
satoru swings your hands back and forth, looking awfully happy with himself. you’re proud of him. really.
“oh —“ he says, breaking the sleepy silence once again. “and i’ll stop leaving wrappers around, too.”
this time, you’re the one who huffs out an amused breath. “thank you,” you grin, looking up at him. he thinks the sight is terribly precious.
a yawn leaves your lips, drowsiness sneaking its way into your bloodstream. you’re not sure if it’s due to the dark, or if you’re just a tad exhausted after all the arguing and panicking.
satoru notices, and gets an idea.
“you tired, baby?” he coos, eyes teasing but soft around the edges. “d’you want a piggyback ride?” 
when you give him a look, sleepy and kind of exasperated, satoru grins. you huff out an amused breath, just a tad embarrassed, but it only spurs him on.
so he crouches down, one knee meeting the pavement, letting your hand slip from his. you blink, tiredly, at the loss of contact. you can’t see his face, but you know he’s wearing that lovesick, smug little grin of his. 
”c’mon. your big, strong boyfriend’ll carry you.”
satoru’s feeling playful, you can tell. that’s usually a bad sign — but you can’t deny that you’re tired. and the prospect of getting carried all the way home is eerily tempting. 
your gaze falls on his back, and his broad shoulders. silently, you walk towards him, and wrap your arms around his neck. satoru holds you up by your thighs, and then stands up, jostling you a little; he does so without a hitch, and you’re reminded of how strong he really is. his grip is secure, and you trust him not to drop you, no matter what. 
you let out a content sigh, basking in the chill of the midnight air as you nuzzle your cheek against his soft hair. satoru chuckles.
”my sleepy lil’ sweetheart,” he coos, voice a tad raspy. ”lucky thing you’ve got me, huh?”
there’s a softness to his voice, despite the teasing tilt obscuring it. you can only huff out a breath, somewhere between a chuckle and a scoff, and cling to him tighter.
satoru will get you home safe. he can be annoying, outright insufferable, and he can be bad with emotions — but you can always, always trust him on that. 
so, with his coat shielding you from the chilly air, and his back warming you up as he carries you back to your apartment, you allow your eyes to flutter shut; enjoying the cozy feeling his presence brings you.
he’ll always be there when you need him.
5K notes · View notes
cleo-fox · 5 months
Text
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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yasu-1234 · 1 month
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friends with benefits with gojo satoru.
pairing: gojo satoru x afab reader words: 5,100 contains: oral sex, squirting, pronebone, choking, and gojo being unserious. mood: playful, sexy, sincere. author’s note: thank you for the kind reaction to lazy sunday morning 🙇‍♀️
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You squint at him as you take in his request, wondering if he’s just messing with you as usual. You’re sitting next to him in your apartment unit; the balls of your feet digging on the edge of your couch as you slurp on a cup of boba tea.
“Dude. That’s not funny,” you manage to reply after a long, confused silence. “Like, I know it’s fun when we mess with each other but isn’t this a bit out of line?”
He scoffs dramatically. “I’m serious! Do I look like I’m joking?”
“Honestly? I can’t always tell,” you reply. “Kinda feels like everything is a joke to you sometimes.”
“Well, I’m not. I’m asking you nicely here. Do you wanna do it? With me?”
You open your mouth to respond, but then you realize you don't even know what to say.
Satoru scoots closer to you and leans forward, looking at you from above his sunglasses, his voice dropping into his teacher tone as he explains.
“Look, okay?” he starts. “We’ve been teasing and flirting with each other since the day we met. And I know it’s all jokes but still, there’s obviously some chemistry here. Not to mention that you're fucking hot. And I know you think that I’m hot too. Plus, all your Tinder matches are assholes. And I don’t even have the time to date or meet new people. So you and I are like, our most logical, convenient choice here.”
You huff and smile in disbelief. “Did you just assume that I think you’re hot? Someone’s a little cocky.”
“Come on. You have eyes. Get with the program.”
Your eyes cast a flickering gaze over his body, taking in the chiseled contours of his muscles underneath his– Oh. Ohhh. So that’s why he came wearing a compression shirt. And sweatpants. On a Friday evening. With your favorite cup of boba tea. He shoots you an impish grin as you shake your head at him and set his bribe down the coffee table.
“Fine,” you say. “I won’t deny that we’re kinda, sorta, maybe, compatible. But here’s the thing. I like our friendship the way it is. Why complicate it with some dumb, meaningless sex?”
“No, no, no. But it’s not gonna be dumb and meaningless,” he replies. “Cause it’s you.”
His words snare you speechless, your cheeks flushing red.
“Wait. Dude, what do you mean by that?” You stammer, laughing awkwardly.
“I’m saying I care about you and you mean something to me. If there’s anyone I’d wanna fuck on the regular, it’s you.”
“Satoru!” You lean away. “You really don’t have a filter do you?”
“I’m just being candid here! I trust you.”
He scoots even closer to you, holding you by the forearms. “And you trust me too, right? I promise I don’t wanna hurt you and I’m not playing tricks. I’m just asking.”
“And am I the first person you asked?”
“You’re the only person I’m gonna ask. If you say no, my dick is gonna concave. It’s over,” he replies.
You laugh at his words, and he laughs from the pleasure of making you laugh. Then his smile melts into an unwavering gaze, his eyes soft and sincere, pleading like a touch-starved cat.
“But seriously,” he continues, his fingertips graze your neck. “I meant what I said. You mean something to me. I don’t wanna hookup with some random stranger or a girlfriend who might break up with me. It has to be you, okay? I just know that whatever it is that we have it’s definitely gonna last. Whether it’s friendship or… something else. Something more. I don’t know.”
You can’t help but lean into his touch, “Your logic is so weird.”
“You’re weird.”
“No, you.”
You huff and smile. And then your gaze falls down to his lips. Soft, glossy, and inviting. The air is suddenly warm and still. And the silence between you grows heavy and pensive. With the shared understanding that you are sitting with him on the edge of a crumbling threshold. You look back into his eyes and notice that he’s looking at your lips too. His breathing becomes shallow and heavy with longing.
“What if we just kiss and see where it goes?” you ask.
He swallows hard, his lips parting, “Yeah…”
Satoru takes off his sunglasses and you lean towards each other. Slowly. Seeking reassurance, offering permission, with every inch of space you close between yourselves. At some point, his eyelids fall shut. His silver lashes flutter as he moves closer and closer. You can smell his sweet breath, feel the warmth radiating from his skin, and the firmness of his thumb against your cheek.
You close your eyes and press your lips against his, softly, then with a swift gradation of hunger as Satoru grabs the back of your neck, pulling you against him, deepening the kiss.
“Mmnh… ” You hear a soft hum of pleasure from deep in his chest.
His lips feel soft like rose petals, puckering and relaxing as he relishes the feeling of your lips against his. He’s kissing you. You’re kissing him back. And you start laughing against his lips as reality cuts through that fog. He pulls back, surprised by your reaction.
“What?” he asks, laughing now too. “Don’t tell me I suck.”
“No, no, you’re fine,” you reply. “It’s just—I can’t believe I’m kissing my friend. On the mouth.”
He smirks, “You wanna kiss something else?”
You smack his shoulder, blushing and laughing, “Shut up!”
“Hey, I was quiet,” he yells, gesturing to himself now. “You’re the one who started laughing!”
“Okay, fine! I’m sorry! I just couldn’t take it seriously.”
“We never really took anything seriously. That’s what makes it so fun,” He says, placing his hands on your waist. “I like that we can laugh about everything. Even things like this.”
You smile, “Yeah. I guess you’re right.”
You lean towards each other and kiss once again. This time, you part your lips, and his tongue swipes softly against yours, gentle yet demanding, coating your mouth with a sweet, buttery taste. His hands are warm as it rests on your collarbones. And you feel his fingers crawl upwards to the back of your neck, grabbing you by the scalp to hold your head still.
The rest of the world starts to sway and melt into open water. And you cling to him as if he’s the only thing keeping you afloat. You break the kiss to gasp for some air, hoping to feel solid ground again. While Satoru presses his forehead against yours. His eyes shut and his lips trembling, hoping you would let him taste you again.
“We’re gonna keep going aren’t we…” you whisper, breathlessly.
“Hell yeah,” he whispers back.
His hands slide under your thighs and he pulls you to his lap. You lean down to kiss him once again. Satoru moans and grabs your hips to press you down to his crotch, craving some pressure against his aching, hardening cock.
“I just… need your weight… right here…” he mutters in between kisses. His hips press upwards to meet you, and you gasp as you feel his thick girth squeeze and rub between your legs. Shuddering as you wonder how he’ll cram all that cock inside of you.
“You feel that? That’s your fault,” he hisses, sighing in relief.
“Aww, are you that pent up?” You tease as you start rocking across his length, following the slow rhythm of his hips.
“You know it… It’s been a while.”
A strangled sound leaves his throat and his head hangs back from the couch as you grind on him. His eyes shut and his lips parted in relief. He grabs you firmly by the backside, keeping you pressed against him.
A moment later, Satoru tilts his head back up to look at you with a hazy gaze and notices your stiff nipples underneath your oversized shirt. He leans forward and nips at one of your buds with his teeth.
You yelp at the sudden prick of pain, “What the fuck!”
You recoil and cover your chest with your hands.
“Hehe, I've always wanted to do that,” he says. He takes your wrists and pries them away from your chest, holding them tightly behind your back with a single, large fist. “You never wear a bra when I’m coming over. Did you think I wouldn’t notice? Or were you hoping that I would?”
“It’s my apartment. I would’ve worn a bra if I knew you were gawking,” you retort.
He leans to press his lips softly on your breast, soothing the sting in your nipple through the fabric of your shirt. You sigh and bite your lip.
“You’re not answering my question,” he says, looking at you with a mischievous glint in his eyes. “So maybe I’ll just think however I want. And I think you wanted me to see it.”
Satoru starts kissing the base of your neck as his hand disappears under your shirt; you shiver as you feel his long fingers draw a smooth trail up your spine that turns into a light scratch as his hand pivots across your rib and towards your chest. You feel his cock jump underneath his sweats the moment he feels your breast.
“Damn, you’re soft,” he sighs. He bunches the hem of your shirt and raises it up, exposing your breasts to him. “Here, hold this."
He stuffs your mouth with your shirt to hold it up.
Before you can protest, Satoru leans down to drag a soft tongue over your nipple. Then he opens his mouth to suckle as much of your breast as possible. You bite down on your shirt, holding a moan as he flicks you over and over with his tongue, and then finishing with smacking kisses before he moves his lips across your chest to tease the other. Your torso twists and recoils from the raw, yet delicate sensation. But he pulls on your wrists to keep your back arched in his direction. The ache and heat between your legs become more and more unbearable, so you continue rubbing your crotch against the iron-hard bulge in his lap. Giving yourself some much-needed relief.
“Mmmh, that’s right, keep grinding on me,” he murmurs. “Make that pussy feel good.”
You shoot him a repulsed look. Though you're unable to snark at him through the makeshift gag he shoved in your mouth. Satoru laughs anyway, knowing exactly what you’re thinking. You’re such a sleaze.
“Oh come on. I’m how you like me,” he teases. “And if you keep looking at me like that I might actually bust.”
You roll your eyes at him and smile. And that only made Satoru greedier for any and all reactions he can coax out of your body. He grins and sets you back down the couch. Then he kneels on the floor between your legs and drags your shorts and panties down to the floor. You spread your legs for him, almost involuntarily. And he bites his lip as you show him the tender, sopping mess between your legs. His hands on your thighs feel searing hot as he raises your limbs up the couch, planting your feet on the edge of your seat.
“Play with your clit,” he tells you. “Show me how you tease it.”
Surprisingly, you obey. Your hand starts drawing languid circles around and around your bud. He leans in closer to observe you. Noting the rhythm, the pressure, how tightly or how widely you stroke yourself. You realize that he’s teaching himself how to make you feel good. And that only made you rub faster and harder in blatant, bare-faced need.
“Yes, that’s right. Keep going,” he encourages you. “Now put a finger in. Fuck yourself a little.”
You slip your finger and start gliding in and out. He nods and hums in pleasure as he watches you with unabashed lust and fascination. Like you’re the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. You milk and ride your delicate fingers, stoking and tending to your own pleasure like a flame.
“Okay stop,” he says. He pulls your hands away. “I got the gist of it.”
“The gist, huh?” You taunt. “You think that’s enough?”
“You tell me.”
He parts your lips with his thumbs and glides a wide tongue along your slit. Your back bows and a moan escapes you as he licks you just like that.
Satoru doesn’t even take the time to gloat. His lips and tongue start to slurp and smack relentlessly. Making your toes curl and your stomach writhe. Grabbing a handful of his hair and nearly ripping it off his scalp as he somehow licks faster and sucks harder. With the rhythm and the consistency of a goddamn machine. You bite hard on the fleshy base of your thumb as he pleasures your pussy raw. Focusing your eyes on whatever random object you find in your living room to make yourself last longer. Cause you know you’ll never hear the end of it if you come all over his mouth within the first two minutes.
But then he slides in his fingers. Those fucking fingers. Smooth and long and dexterous as it moves in and out, over and over, curling to press that intense spot just underneath your bladder. You start to feel a deep sense of pressure, an urgency, somewhere inside your walls. That builds and rumbles and sears… and then explodes.
You grunt and arch as you feel a sudden release, something more than a climax. Your body grows taut and snared by euphoria, your eyes rolling to the back of your head, your hearing muffled as your ears start to ring. But Satoru’s voice cuts through the haze.
“Whoa there! I didn’t know I was in the splash zone!”
You snap your head back down and your jaw drops at the sight of him.
“Holy shit. Did I just– Oh my god. Oh my god, I'm so sorry,” you stammer, mortified. You grab your shirt to try to wipe him.
“Haha, hey. Relax. You didn’t actually hit me,” he says with a soft, reassuring laugh. He turns his body to an angle to show your watery spent hovering centimeters before his face. “See? All safe and dry. Unlike you.”
“Oh, shut it,” you sigh, panting heavily. “That… seriously never happened before.”
“Really? Never?” he asks with a smug grin, he starts wiping himself with your shirt before tossing it down the wooden floor. "Wow… I'm flattered."
Satoru kisses your thighs and leans down between your legs once again. You jolt and push his head away.
“Wait, I don’t think I-“
“Just a few kisses,” he says in a soft voice. “Just lemme get a few more kisses in there, yeah? I’ll be gentle with it.”
You sigh and slowly let go of his head. Satoru leans in to plant a few soft kisses on your outer lips, on your folds, your entrance–your entire body twitching with every touch of his lips. Then he presses his lips tenderly on your clit. And you feel it pulse and throb as his lips linger and your legs begin to tremble. He finally pulls away, wiping his mouth on your inner thigh.
“If that wasn't one of the biggest ego boosts of my life,” he says fondly.
“Yeah, cause the one thing you need the most is another ego boost,” you retort as you wait for your bones and muscles to feel solid again. “I’ll get you for this.”
He grins, “That a promise or a threat?”
“Maybe both.”
“Alright, bet.”
Satoru stands to push his sweatpants down his thighs. Then he reaches inside his boxer-briefs to draw out…
the prettiest cock you’ve ever seen in your life.
“What the fuck,” you whisper to yourself as you watch Satoru shrug off his bottoms and straddle you. Instinctively, you wrap your hand around his cock and start stroking.
He looks at you with a smirk, “Gorgeous, right?”
His cock is long and proportionally thick from crown to root, shaped with a graceful upwards curve. His skin is glossy and flushed pink—wrapped tightly and smoothly around his organ without an inch of loose flesh. It’s almost uncanny how sculpted and elegant it looks. And the idea of his cock sinking past your throat makes your mouth water and your pussy pound.
“Go on, taste it,” he coaxes you. He doesn’t need to tell you twice.
You lean in and wrap your lips around his pretty, pink head—your tongue swirling and catching each leak of precum that drops onto your taste buds. Satoru moans and the neediness in his voice emboldens you to take more and more of him. You start swaying your head in deeper and deeper strokes; relishing the smooth underside of his cock. The thick scent of lavender on his skin and hair. The sweet and acidic taste of his precum. Satoru tries to breathe in deeply, only for his breath to shudder each time you sink your head.
“You’re pretty eager,” he teases, breathlessly. He runs his fingers through your scalp to hold your hair back, wanting to see more of your face as you work on him. “Do you want me to cum that badly? You want me to shoot my little babies down that throat?”
He yelps when you slap his inner thigh, your brow furrowed as you look at him with a flustered and reprimanding gaze. Though Satoru finds it pretty hard to take you seriously with his dick in your mouth. So he chuckles fondly instead.
“Or you can do that. I like it when you try to hurt me too,” he says.
You grab him by the back of his thighs, nails digging into his flesh, and you sink him deeper into your mouth. Satoru hisses and starts moving his hips, meeting your head downstroke. His cock starts to edge towards the back of your tongue, testing your gag reflex with every thrust. But you relax your throat and match your breathing with the swing of his hips, and soon you manage to bury him down your throat to the root. Your nose pressed firmly against the fluffy, white hairs of his crotch. Screw it. You let him hit the back of your throat over and over and over.
"Fuck," he moans. "At least try to make me last."
His hips pick up the pace. And you feel his muscles contract as his cock pushes towards release. You moan and pleasure him with the vibrations in your throat, wanting desperately to fill your taste buds with his cum.
But then he stops moving. His hands holding you stock-still against his crotch. You feel his cock twitch and throb in your throat, threatening to burst. And you can hear the strangled noises and whimpers coming from Satoru’s lips. You look up to him and see the look on his face; his brow is upturned, his eyes closed, and his jaw tight as he bites his lower lip. Looking like an angel in ecstasy. His eyes flutter open to peer down on you.
“Just a little more. Bear with me here,” he sighs. Then the twitching stops and he pulls his cock out. You gasp, forgetting you were holding your breath.
You shoot him an accusatory look.
“Did you just edge yourself?” You ask.
“What if I did?” He asks back.
“That’s not fair! I was winning!”
You lean forward towards his crotch but he holds you by the shoulders, laughing.
“It’s not a competition! I didn’t come all this way just to cum in your hand. Or your mouth,” he says with a smile. He reaches behind him to slide two fingers between your slit, gently caressing your inner lips. “I wanna cum here."
He starts gliding those long delicate fingers, up and down. Parting as he stretches you open. Your eyes glaze over as you feel that familiar heat building between your legs. Perhaps he’s right. Perhaps you would rather feel him burst inside you instead. You start moving your hips to rut against his fingers, your hands rolling your breasts as you gaze at him with cock-starved eyes. Satoru twitches as he relishes that look in your face. Wanting nothing else but to thrust and wring that neediness away.
“Bed?” He asks you.
“Bed,” you answer.
You yelp and giggle as he hoists you up and jogs to your bedroom. He doesn’t want to waste a single second. He flops you down on top of your sheets and takes his shirt off. His naked torso tightens as he notices you admiring his body. Taking in his broad shoulders, his square chest, his tiny waist and those grid-like abs. Eight packs… How many abs does a person need?
Satoru aligns his groin between your legs and lays his cock across your stomach like a ruler; measuring how deep he's about to go inside your body. You shiver as his tip caresses your belly button. Your pussy throbbing in equal parts fear and delight.
"You think you can take all this?" He asks you with a devious look in his eyes, with his lips curled into a smirk.
You bite your lips and mirror his gaze, almost provoking him to try and split you apart.
"Come and find out."
He rubs the tip of his cock against your clit and pushes it inside you. You moan as his thick head stretches you with just enough hint of pain to compliment the pleasure. He leans down and sticks his tongue out, prompting you to suck it and caress it with your own. The sensation of your soft tongues circling each other sends you into a fucking frenzy. You feel your inner walls contract and his groan spills straight into your mouth.
“Shit, you’re actually sucking me in,” he pants. He grabs you by the hair to tilt your head down, making you watch the way his cock sink between your legs—one girthy inch after the other. “Look at it go. Watch how well you're taking me right now.”
You both groan in relief as his cock disappears inside your soft cunt, his tip pressed flush against your cervix. You both take a moment to stare at your interlocked groins in fascination.
And then he looks at you to flash a nasty grin.
“Hey bestie…” Satoru purrs, his voice dripping with mischief and lust. “Guess who’s inside you?”
“Oh, come on!” you groan, smiling deliriously as you turn your head away from him. You try to cover your face, but he pins your wrists to the bed.
“No, say it. Who’s inside you? Who’s fucking you right now?” He insists, giggling. He tilts his body to face you again, preventing you from escaping his gaze. He withdraws his hips and drives his cock upwards with a rough thrust, knocking you backwards. You tilt your head back with a moan as he hits you in the womb.
“Say it,” he urges.
“Who else am I supposed to say? Jesus?” you reply, laughing as he does. “You are. You're inside me. Happy?"
“What am I doing?” He asks again. He starts rolling his hips, fucking you slowly. His crotch rubs against your clit in languid strokes.
“You’re fucking me,” you gasp. Your breath catches as you turn dizzy and nearly cross-eyed from ecstasy.
“That's right,” he replies, now caressing your face. “I got you, okay? I’m gonna make you feel so good.”
“You better,” you reply, wrapping your arms around him.
Satoru withdraws and flips you to lie flat on your stomach. Your legs pressed closely together as he parts your cheeks and aims his cock towards your entrance.
"Try not to gush all over your sheets, okay?" He teases. Then he nibbles your ear and plants kisses on your shoulders.
You sigh, “I just knew you were gonna bring that up.”
Satoru slides inside of you and you squirm and groan against the pillow instantaneously. The friction between your legs feels heightened as your muscles squeeze around him. He starts gyrating his hips, the tip of his cock hitting all the right spots with each downstroke. You grab the sheets and groan as you start kicking your feet from the raw, unadulterated pleasure.
He braces his hands on the small of your back. Then his hips move faster. Harder. Deeper. The slap of his skin nearly echoes inside your bedroom as he fucks the sanity out of your brain with each thrust. Your senses are overwhelmed by all things Satoru–the powdery scent of his skin, his pretty little moans in your ear, his smooth skin against your back, his comforting weight, and his thick cock pumping inside of you. With an angle so perfect and a rhythm so right that you wonder if his body was made for you. You squirm and writhe underneath him as the pleasure engulfs you like a flame. That he stokes and tends until it’s wild and uncontrollable.
You know it’s just sex. You know you’re just friends. You both just wanted to try something fun. Let off some steam. And yet you never felt used for a single moment. And despite all his teasing and provocations you’ve never felt insulted or uncomfortable. Satoru makes you laugh. He also makes you moan. And if he keeps fucking you like this he might actually make you cry.
Satoru collapses on top of you and starts groaning and whimpering against your neck, his abs flexing into stone as he stokes an impending climax.
"Fuck, fuck, I'm so close. Take me there, baby, take me all the way there, please," he rambles. “I want it, I want it, I want it. God, I wanna cum so bad."
He grabs you by the neck to tilt your head up and shoves his soft, sweet tongue inside your mouth. Kissing you with open lips. Saliva dripping down your chin. Then his hand starts to squeeze you, choking you gently and tenderly, and your body dissolves into a pleasurable haze. Your inner walls clench and your stomach tightens. You know you're getting close, too.
"Yes. That’s right. Good girl," he whispers into your lips. "Stay with me, baby. Stay close to me, I can't do this without you."
The pleasure builds, and builds, and builds, and then it shatters you. You start thrashing under his body as your climax rips through and seizes you. White light dances before your eyes and your hearing weakens from the strength of your pulse. Your pussy clenching so hard around his cock that he explodes inside you as well—his cum hot and searing like ignited oil. Satoru’s hips begin to stutter, helpless against the strength of his own spent as it shoots out and fills you straight to the womb until it leaks past your plugged entrance. He cums inside you in choking whimpers and grunts… that fade into a long, satisfied sigh.
“Hah… fuck… holy shit,” he pants. “What was that?”
“I never came so hard in my life,” you whisper, mindlessly.
“Me too… I thought I was gonna shoot my balls out.”
Satoru remains flat on your back, kissing and nibbling your nape as you unwind from the strength of your orgasms. Your bodies stay suctioned together, as still as the air that surrounds you. You seek comfort and grounding from his crushing weight and the heady sweetness of his scent as your mind slips into that blissful, post-orgasmic headspace. He tugs at his dick to pull out, but you’re still clamped and wound up tightly. That’s fine. He didn’t want this to end either. Your walls are just too soft, too warm, and too plush for him to just leave. He smiles and rolls your bodies to the side to spoon you; his arms wrapped around you like a blanket.
Satoru starts rubbing his face against your neck like a sweet, satisfied cat.
“So what do you think? You wanna do this again sometime?” He asks.
You could only hum in approval, your mind and your body feeling weightless and malleable.
“How long have you been meaning to sleep with me?” You ask. “Just curious.”
“… A while,” he answers after a pensive silence. “Does that bother you?”
"I guess not… But we’re still friends, right?” You ask. Wondering if you should even bring this up while he’s tucked inside you to the hilt.
"Friends with benefits, I guess," he shrugs. "But really, we can be anything you want. You already know how I feel so… ball's on your court."
He raises his head to look at you. "Why? You wanna get married?"
You laugh, "Maybe not that!"
“Why not? Lots of people marry their best friends.”
You turn your head and smirk at him, “I let you hit once and now you’re thinking about marriage. I must’ve been such a good lay.”
He smiles fondly and nuzzles your cheek, “You are, though. Seriously, who else can bring me to my knees like that? You’re the best I ever had.”
You roll your eyes and smile, “Now you’re just glazing.”
“It’s true,” He leans back down to kiss a trail from your ear to your shoulder. “I don’t care how you take me as long as we’re together. I like being with you. And now I know I like fucking you too. You’re not getting rid of me now. And like I said before. Whatever it is that we have, it'll definitely last.”
You stay silent, wondering where this all leads. Will the friendship really last? Will it fizzle out? Would you prefer that over a certain, bitter end? Is your friendship now contingent on sex? Will he be worth the heartache if you ever get attached?
Satoru laughs softly at your brooding.
“You don’t have to decide right now, you know?” He says. “Let’s just feel this moment together. Just feel me here with you. We don’t have to worry about anything else.”
He starts rocking his hips gently again, thrusting inside you with a pace so relaxing that you feel your consciousness sinking. He whispers softly against your ear; telling you secrets and sweet reassurances. Promises and high praises.
Satoru has leapt from that crumbling threshold. That boundary. That made you seek forgiveness whenever your fingers touched his hand. Or worry if you’ve taken your jokes too far. And he has opened his arms to you, beckoning you to take that leap and sink into that limbo between friendship and beyond. Promising you that he will catch you when you fall.
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i wanted to capture that 'you cryin'?' energy of his and stretch it to a whole fanfic. though i hope it wasnt too much of a tone whiplash (•᷄- •᷅ ;) i just think annoying people is his love language. and he probs gets a kick from your reactions. pls let me know what you think! ٩(ˊᗜˋ*)و
and thank you for giving this fanfic a chance!
originally posted on ao3 title is based on blurred lines by lauren layne. art by blooneey on pixiv
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prettyboykatsuki · 2 months
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YOU’VE GOT THE CURE (EVERYTHING I NEED) | B. KATSUKI. 
✮ tags ; gn + afab!reader, soft dom!reader, sub!bakaugou, developing relationships, mutual pining and ambiguous relationships, anal play (m!recieving), dry orgasms, p in v, unprotected sex, 18+
✮ wc ; 6.7k
✮ a/n ; an anon comission from a beloved mutual im posting. also just dropping in to say hello
✮ synopsis ; katsuki is too fucking young to have erectile dysfunction, damn it.
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“Hey.” 
“Hm?” 
The sound of your typing is especially loud in the empty office. It’s a Saturday and neither of you are supposed to be clocked in, but when duty calls - it’s up to the two of you to answer. 
“...I’m going to tell you something. If you so much as fucking laugh I will kill you.”
You don’t look up from your screen.
“Well that’s one way to start a sentence. I’ll try not to laugh.”
Katsuki slams his hand on the desk. 
“I’m being serious,” He says in a half-yell. You look up from the edge of your laptop unflinchingly with a displeased frown, shaking your head and throwing your hand up half-heartedly. 
“Fine, fine - I promise I won’t laugh. Can you stop being all ominous? You sound like Tokoyami.” 
“There’s something wrong with me,” 
“Well yes,” 
“Not like that,” He hisses, taking a deep breath. He leans forward with his elbows on the table, hands clasped seriously as he covers his face. “...I think my fucking..thing..is broken.” 
There’s a loud noise like a muffled laugh but when Katsuki looks up your expression is completely blank. Your lips are pressed tight, eyes out of focus as you continue to type. Or pretend to. True to your word, you don’t laugh but Katsuki still wants to fucking kill you. 
“Oh? What uhm,” You clear your throat, lips trembling as you try to keep yourself together. “What brought you to that conclusion?” 
He nearly snaps his pen in half. 
“What do you fucking think?!” 
“Hey. Calm down. I’m doing my best not to laugh but you are not helping.” 
This is the sort of thing Katsuki would normally take to his grave. Not only is it genuinely humiliating, it is the sort of painful personal detail he wouldn’t share with anyone even if he was fucking them. It wouldn’t matter either, that his dick isn’t working - if the other ways he relieved stress were.
He’s got an average sex drive, sometimes lower but a high libido. Getting off is a physical response to a bodily need. Like eating food or taking a nap. It’s just because it’s a physical need, it is noticeable when the need doesn’t get met. He is painfully aware of it. It’s been weeks and he thinks he’s starting to lose his mind. Worse? He’s exhausted every human option trying to fix the problem himself, save for going to the dick doctor. His testosterone levels are fine, he gets check-ups more regularly than the average person. Given his reputation is at stake, he’d rather not get prescribed anything. He’s bought ginseng and shitty vitamins and medicine he had to ship from overseas. Anything and everything. 
Picking up viagra at the ripe age of twenty four would give him psychic damage he won’t recover from, this much Katsuki is sure of. So not that. But everything else, every natural remedy conceived - he’s tried. 
“I don’t know what to do anymore,” He says, pinching the bridge of his nose and willfully ignoring the sound of your strained huffing “I can’t fucking get….it up and I don’t know why. I’ve tried everything. Everything. I’m going crazy,” 
“You know, it really says something about our relationship that you can confide to me about these kinds of problems. Like I’m so proud of us,” 
“Shut up. I’m already miserable enough without wanting to fucking tell you - but the only other option is Shitty Hair and Izuku. I refuse to buy a single goddamn pill for it, and I know if I go to a doctor they’re gonna recommend it and—” He can’t finish the thought. It’s a little too sincere for the kind of conversation you’re having. 
You’re a tactless person, so of course - you don’t bother with going along with the mood. Instead you smile like the evil bastard you are. 
“And…?” 
“You little—” He sighs rubbing his palms over his hands “And because I can trust you to be the least horrible option.” 
“So you acknowledge my valiant efforts as your underling and assistant and know you’d be nowhere without me?” 
“Shut up.” 
“Aw, you’re sweet,” You say, promptly ignoring him “But yeah, I mean - no judgement. I would ask if you’ve had anything major happen but I unfortunately already know that’s not really the case.”
Yes. You, of all people, would know that no major changes have happened in Katsuki’s external life that would make it hard for his dick to function. You spend so much time together. Minus the time he spends working and catching villains in the world - you’re practically glued to his side. You’re in charge of all of his affairs, his schedule, all other personal things. Katsuki is naturally neurotic, but you handle all of it with grace and care. You know everything about him, which is why he is asking you about this problem. 
(Does it border on unprofessional? Of course it does. But your relationship to each other degraded that border a long time ago. You’ve already slept in his bed and met all of his friends. And kissed him, but that’s irrelevant for now) 
“I need solutions,” Katsuki offers, totally and utterly defeated by the situation at hand. “I’ve done everything. Taken every goddamn herb, done every meditation. Nothing is working. Nothing. I’m going to go fucking crazy.” 
“Do you think just sleeping with someone would help? I know you don’t want to ask any of your friends, but maybe an escort? We can do it discreetly.” 
“Fuck no. If it were that easy I would’ve done it.” 
You pause. Katsuki can see the focus on your face and doesn’t know if it makes him feel better or worse. After an elongated period of silence, you perk up a little. You lock eyes with him and Katsuki briefly regrets bringing the whole conversation up in the first place. 
“Hate to ask,” You say, though there’s not enough embarrassment on your face to make anything of that statement. “But uh, have you tried getting off with other things. Like something that isn’t your dick.” 
He feels a flush creeping up his skin. “What the fuck are you talking about!”
“This is an important question,” You emphasize, an expression so alarmingly calm Katsuki doesn’t know if it makes him feel better or worse. “Cause if the answer is no, then that’s basically the best solution.” 
“How the fuck is that the best solution? Are you insane?” 
“Don’t be such a prude, Mr. Dynamight. You’ve bottomed before. It’s not that different. Have you ever tried it on your own?” 
“I fucking hate you.” He replies, closing his eyes and frowning. “No I haven’t. Why the hell would I do something so embarrassing.” 
“I know you’re super anal retentive - no pun intended there actually, but can you relax a little? It’s a good solution if nothing else is working. Your dick might be broken but an orgasm is an orgasm.” 
“Remind me to never ask you for shit again,” 
“I’d love that. Just keep me on payroll. Anyway,” You go back to typing. “I think that should be your first move,”
“How the—are you seriously telling me I should go fuck myself to solve my problem?” 
You giggle. “Well it sounds bad when you put it like that. But I guess yeah. I can help pick out some sex toys, maybe, do a little research. If you don’t want to do it in your apartment, there might be a love hotel,” 
A blush creeps up against the back of his neck. He covers his face with his hands. 
“I’m begging you to shut the fuck up. There’s no,” Another wave of humiliation sets in “There’s no way this is how I’m going about this. Like. Fucking none.” 
“The only other option is the good old fashioned doctors appointment, then. Which we can squeeze in over telehealth I think - since you got a check-up pretty recently. Want me to do that instead,” 
“Fuck, no. I just,” He groans, feeling the stress make his eye twitch “Fuck.” 
There’s a bit of silence and a little typing, like you’ve decided to leave him to his thoughts. Which he doesn’t blame you for, because all things fucking considered - there’s not really any more options. He’s a smart man and even he is fucking stumped. He’s going to have to give into something, eventually. He knows that, but it doesn’t make him feel any better. 
As soon as he gets close to giving up, you sit up straighter and give a deep long sigh. 
“Hey,” You scratch the side of your face awkwardly. “Do you want me to help you….?” 
He stares at you. “With what.” 
“With your dick being broken,” 
“What?!” 
“Don’t yell anymore, you’re giving me a headache,” You express, rubbing your temples. “Look. You need to get off, and you’re probably going to have to use your ass to do it. You don’t want to do it by yourself, and you don’t want to do it with a friend or escort. You’d prefer not going to the doctor's office or taking any pills. I’m offering - I’m not really your friend per se and you trust me enough to ask about it.” 
He hates more than anything that you have a point. 
“You can’t be fucking serious right now.”
“Hey. If you want your dick to stay broken for a while until you figure it out, do you. I’m just saying. Offering solutions is what you pay me for,” 
He pulls back a little. 
“...Are you fine with that?” 
“Oh banging you? Is that what you’re worried about?” He winces at the direct and crass way you speak. “I like you plenty and you’ve got a pretty face. I’m down if you are,” 
“I can’t believe I’m considering this.” 
“Really? I totally can,” You snicker, and he really, really considers firing you. “It’s not the first time we’ve crossed boundaries with each other. Just consider it, okay? Before you actually blow a fuse.” 
He leans back in his chair and groans. 
“Fuck. Yeah, whatever.” 
__ 
It’s another week before Katsuki takes you up on your offer. 
Miraculous it took that long, given the amount he suffered stubbornly trying to fix the problem on his own. The lengths he went too are too embarrassing to even disclose or recount but it very quickly became clear that this was not an issue that was going to magically disappear - no matter how hard he tried. 
Against his better judgment and after a long, cold shower trying to talk himself out of reality - Katsuki sent you a one line text. 
Fine. Come Saturday. 
The only thing he could say without dying of complete fucking shame. He’s grateful that’s the time you decided to have some tact. 
(Not a lot, since the text back you sent was a peach emoji and a thumbs up. But whatever, he’ll take what he can get.) 
It’s Saturday now, and he’s clean. All of him. He’s clean, and just wearing his boxers - sitting on his couch. You’ll be here very soon, and he can’t believe he’s saying this, but he’s nervous. 
You did mention you were fine with it. He believes that because there’s been long standing tension between you two for god knows how long he’s not entirely blind too. You sleep at his place sometimes and spend all day with him, and then there was that one time you two kissed (very sober) during New Years. You don’t bring it up because you know he can’t deal with it. Yet he’s comforted by the fact you at least want it (because you’ve said so), and that you’re willing to do this despite the ambiguity in your relationship. 
He knows that is inevitably going to come up today. But he really wants to fucking cum. And if it’s with you, then it’s fine. If his head was a little clearer, he would probably reject this whole thing based on his own emotional disparity. God fucking knows he is not in any place to deal with any of that. His heart barely gets by in the office and now you were going to fuck him. 
Is he stupid? 
Usually no, but because there’s a soft dick and tight balls where his brain used to be, currently yes. Everything put together, it’s a recipe for disaster. He considers telling you to fuck off and forget all this happens. 
But then he thinks about the prospect of your hands and your voice and it’s enough to at least get his heart pumping, though his dick still refuses to cooperate.
More than anything, he does trust you. Shitty, smug little fucker you can be sometimes - there’s not a single person who goes out of their way for him. More than just your job, sometimes it feels like every little thing you do is for his sake. Everything you don’t ask of him, every secret you keep. You push him where he needs to go and encourage him to take risks in his career without imposing on him. 
He blushes again, laying on his couch. He was nervous before but it’s not any better. Maybe he’s not so much of a dumbass as he is a total fucking masochistic. Is the level of overthinking the shit Izuku goes through? No wonder he’s like that all the time. 
He almost jumps out of his skin when he hears the doorbell ring. 
He answers the door shirtless and finds you on the other side. You have a cardboard box and the most nonchalant expression he’s ever seen. Normally it would annoy him, but right now he’s kind of comforted by it. You look at him with a flat smile. 
“Hey sexy,” You say with no intonation. “Can I come in?” 
He gives you a look of disdain. “Don’t ever say that shit to me again. But come in,” 
You laugh quietly as he steps aside. You don’t have much with you other than the ominous box and your bag. 
“You look like you’ve showered,” You say, taking your shoes off and putting on the house slippers he keeps for you. You don’t even look at him as you go towards his bedroom upstairs. He follows you with mild (faux) annoyance.“What a shame.” 
“The fuck is that supposed to mean?” 
“I wanted to get a little romantical and help you clean up but you’ve taken that from me. I’m a little hurt.” 
“You’re such a dumbass. As if I’d let you do that,” 
“Don’t be such a spoilsport. I’m gonna be playing in your ass today anyway.” 
“Not the same thing.” 
“Tomato, to-mah-to,” You say with a wave of your hands. When you finally get upstairs, you look over your shoulder. Katsuki gets the message quickly enough, helping you with the door. You give him a little smile and let yourself in, dropping the box on the edge of his king sized mattress. 
He stands in the doorway for a short while, glancing at you before coming in. You put your bag somewhere on the floor before getting back to the box you’ve brought over. He can guess what’s in it, but he stands with you to open it anyways.
Predictably,  the thing is full of sex toys. The first question he wants to ask is how much you spent on all of it, but he bites his tongue. 
You look at him and do a little jazz hands gesture. “Tah-dah.” 
He gives you a displeased look, but you’re well used to this sort of thing from him. There isn’t actually a whole lot in the box. The theatrics of you bring it upstairs were more likely just you fucking with him for the sake of the bit.  He frowns. Typical. 
You do have some new things in the box. A few expensive look gadgets, like a pair of quirk canceling handcuffs (decorated with leopard print fur) and something that looks like it goes around his neck. The sex toys that are in there are noticeably high quality. You definitely used his dime to pay for this. 
“Handcuffs? Seriously?” 
“You’re too much of a control freak and I like not having my hands blown to bits,” You say, shaking your head. “We should establish some ground rules and stuff now.” 
“Haah? The fuck are you gonna do that we need rules.”
“I’m not just gonna jump scare you with dominating you. But that is what I’m doing.  What we’re doing.” You give him a more serious look, that makes him feel more shy than he cares to admit.  “You get what I’m saying? You have to trust me a little, okay?” 
He makes a petulant face at you. “I already trust you dipshit,” 
“This and that are different,” You say, shaking your head. He refrains from disagreeing with you a second time. They’re really not, but he has no desire to explain that. “I’m gonna touch you and be a little strict. Are you okay with that?” 
“I don’t care.” 
“That’s not an answer,” 
He grits. “I want to cum. And I…trust you or whatever. I already agreed to this. If it’s pissing me off, I’ll just kick you offa me. Anyway, ‘s fine.” 
“If you kick me I’m suing you for battery. We can have a safeword. I’m not going to duct tape your mouth and I’m gonna talk you through most of it - but just incase.” You say. He pauses, taken aback by how… delicately you’re treating him. He doesn’t know if he should be pissed about it or not. “Any word is fine. We can use the stoplight system too if you want.”
“Stoplight?” 
“Red for stop, yellow for slow, green for go.” 
“That’s fine. Easy to remember.” 
“Okay,” You nod to yourself, tucking the promise to memory before looking at him more seriously. “Are you okay with intimacy?” 
He stares at you. 
“The fuck…?” 
“Kissing and hand-holding and all that other stuff.” 
“Is it necessary?” 
“Strictly speaking, no,” You look at him knowingly this time. He’s taken aback, but you’re always like this. You look through him, not at him. “Are you okay with it?” 
The implication is there. Do you want it? is the question that goes unasked. Too direct for his tastes. He feels heat spread through his body, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. 
“Yeah…’m fine with it.” 
Your smile is more genuine this time around. He turns away from you a little. 
“Okay. That’s everything out of the way. I’m gonna cuff your arms,” You say. It all feels a little sudden. He figures you’d mean business, but still - he’s not all that prepared. He’s had a week to mentally prepared but that feels like nothing compared to now.  There’s an authority to the way you talk now he isn’t sure he’s going to get used too. “Repeat your safewords to me when you turn around.” 
He frowns but listens. He puts his hands together in front of him, waiting for you to cuff him, shyness making him hot. 
“Uh. Red for stop, yellow for slow down, green for go.” 
“Good boy,” You say so smoothly it almost rolls off of him. The cuffs go around his wrists, and Katsuki can feel the familiar sensation of losing his quirk. Now it’s just the both of you. “I’m expecting a little pushback, but generally - you’re to listen to me. Clear?” 
“God, fuck - yeah clear,” Katsuki says, feeling ticklish all of a sudden. “All this shitty foreplay is making me feel weird.” 
You wrap your arm around his midriff in a sudden movement, making him twitch. He can feel your cheek pressed against his chest as your hands hover over his waistband. He takes in a sharp inhale. 
“It’s good that you’re feeling anything.” You say, breath just barely above a whisper. “Gonna take this off,” 
He just nods, silently. It’s still on soft, but something is happening in his gut at least. You help him take his boxers down. You’ve probably seen him naked before, more than once. You two being attached at the hip was no joke. This time there’s this lingering anticipation that’s there, and that changes things. 
He steps out of his boxers. He’s naked and you’re clothed and his head feels like it’s spinning. Your hand guides him to the edge of the bed. He sits and watches you, but you don’t undress. 
The first kiss (second kiss) that you exchange with Katsuki is pleasant. You bend down to do it. It’s a chaste way to meet his lips, weirdly soothing while his stomach is starting to tie in knots. It’s a little surprising how..comfortable it is. Your mouth is soft, your lips taste a little like chapstick and you smell nice. You pull away to kiss the corner of his mouth, trailing down his jaw. 
Your thumbs draw over the shell of his ear, rubbing the lobe tender. You’re so different. The contrast in your normal personality is a little too much for him to reconcile with easily, but you brush over these things well enough. He looks away when you meet his eyes. 
“Do you wanna lay down or kneel?” 
His throat is tight. “...Don’t care.” 
You laugh a little to yourself, another kiss. “Lay down then. It’d probably be easier if you put your ass up but knowing you, I doubt it.” 
He blushes, annoyed that he’s so obviously predictable to you. 
The sheets are soft where he lays. You don’t join him on the bed at first. He just waits there cuffed as you shuffle around for things - lubes and toys and pillows. When you do return to him, you pat his side and slide a pillow underneath his back. He quickly regrets laying down, because god the position is fucking exposing. 
You get between his legs and settle there comfortably. A hand rests on his bare thigh, rubbing your thumb into smooth, muscled skin. His breath is hitched. You lean down and kiss his hip. Still no dice on the erection, but you don’t seem discouraged. 
You flip the lube open and let it pour onto your fingertips. It’s pink lube. This is mildly irritating, but saying anything will feed into your satisfaction so Katsuki bites his tongue. He watches it as you warm it in your hands, patting his leg with your clean hand. 
“Legs up,” You instruct. “And deep breath. Try not to tense.” 
“Just goin’ for it, huh?”
You don’t reply to that, but you do smile. 
It’s not his first rodeo. His second or third, but certainly not his first - but he’s never had it done for a reason like this. There was an exchange prior, that someone was putting something in him for their pleasure too. This isn’t for that. This is just for him, with your skilled hands and your oddly gentle tendencies that he doesn’t see any other time. That proves to be too much, makes his belly feel honeyed with lust. 
The warm, thick sensation of lubed fingers presses against the tight rim of muscle. He breathes and unclenches. Tries not to think too hard about anything. He’s desperate, too desperate. At this point, it’s hard to be prideful. Your hands are noticeably daintier than the ones he’s had in him prior. It’s…weirdly nice. Makes the process easier somehow. He’s reminded that you’re just you, and that makes him more nervous. 
“That’s it, baby,”  You hum, so soft it’s startling. The way the blood starts to rush in that familiar way nearly makes him sick. Oh, fuck. No way. “Oh?” 
No way. No fucking way. No way that’s what does him in. 
You pause. He takes in a deep breath, ready to say anything to defend himself. Humiliation spreads through his whole body. He can feel how hard he’s starting to burn, like the blood in his body is struggling to keep up with the desire and pump of his heart. His chest and face start to flush a familiar rose as he grits his teeth and closes his eyes. 
Weeks. Weeks and weeks of trying to figure this out. And it was you calling him baby, of all things, to get him at half-mast. 
He’s too afraid to open his eyes, but forces himself too. He’s expecting a smug laugh or sarcastic jab but instead you just look surprised. You stare at him, unblinking. He’s so startled he stares back. 
“Do you wanna…keep going?” 
He gets hard. Fuck. 
“S-shit,” He says, wishing he could cover his face with his hands properly. “Yeah,” 
He can’t read your expression at all. Annoying. You don’t brush over it though - but you don’t force him to acknowledge it either. Maybe you’re just focused on the fact he finally has something to work with and don’t want to ruin it by making him talk about his feelings. 
“Baby,” You say again, smooth and deliberate. There’s that twitch again, something pooling in his gut. He starts to feel nervous. You’re doing the same as before, stretching him and teasing the rim - getting him ready for something else. “You like bein’ my baby, Katsuki?” 
He opens his mouth, only to close it again. He tries to choke some word about, telling you go fuck yourself - but he always ends up looking at your face. Your lashes on your cheek. Soft touches and even softer words. He stops knowing what he wants at some point.
“Ugh,” His voice grows thicker. “Don’t ask me that,” 
(If he were more apt at honesty, he could admit to you that he just wants you. In whatever way. Sometimes you get like this, when you’re not screwing around - and you’re so good to him that it hurts. He likes your sarcasm and dryness. 
But he likes too when you’re this sweet on him too - even if that feels shameful as fuck. That feels like it’s crossing so many more lines that you’re usual self. He knows that better than anyone. It is crossing more lines than usual. 
He can’t help but think about it anyway.)
You laugh a little. His eyes go lidded as you continue to work him open. It’s a slow process. You circle his hole with your thumb each time before pushing in. You get one finger in without effort. The second one takes a little more. Another heaved breath and unclenching of his muscles. 
He hasn’t felt the sensation of something entering him in so long. He can’t remember when the last time was. He’s antsy as you pump your fingers in and out, stretching him slowly. You find the bottle with your free hand, flicking it open with your teeth and pouring lube onto him directly before you keep going. 
“That feel okay?” You mumbles
“Y-yeah. Feels fine,” He huffs, closing his eyes “Feels…good,” 
“It’ll feel better soon. Just need to,” You curve the two fingers inside of him up. They search and search and search until—
There. Shit, there. 
“Oh, shit,” He gasps, arching himself up as you rub it. You smile at him, pleased. “Fuck,” 
You whistle. Katsuki can feel his cock throb properly now, up at full attention. You don’t touch him though. Your other hand grips his thigh for support as you focus your wrist and energy on curling your fingers against his prostate. His stomach flutters, waist tightening.
He’s been fucked before, damn it, but this is different. This is controlled and concentrated. Your fingers are perfect in their motion, pinpoint pleasure making him break out into a feverishness. You’re annoyingly good at this. His whole nervous system feels like it’s being unraveled so slowly. Pulled apart like the slices of a fruit, something for you to pick off and eat.
His head feels like it’s full of cotton, tongue too big for his mouth. Thoughts clouded and inhibition lowered. Real pleasure. He hasn’t felt that in what has to be more than a month now. It’s overwhelming. He’s sensitive and muddy and acting stupidly - he’s well aware. It’s an out of body experience being so unwound in general but this after everything is overstimulating. 
God it feels good. How can anything feel this fucking good? 
His breathing is erratic, heart pumping trying to keep up with it. Euphoric little pricks start at his abdomen and shoot off through his whole body. Like the splintering ends of a falling star. 
He’s never had any orgasm that feels like it needs every muscle in his body to pump through him. It starts in his center and spreads out, melts him slowly. Usually the feeling of needing to cum is passing - just building pleasure until the orgasm hits and the high relaxes. His cock is leaking now with every little press along his insides. Little white dribbles of pre-cum sliding down his shift all the way down to his ass. He doesn’t want to think about how he looks, so he focuses on how it feels. 
“Fuck, that feels so good,” His voice almost gives. “Shit, I’m gonna cum if you don’t slow down.”
“You can cum if you want to, Katsuki,” As if to drive the point home by massaging his inner thigh, neglecting his cock “Guess you’re pretty sensitive inside, hm? Gonna make you cum like a girl,” 
His blush deepens.. 
“Haah, fuck - fuck I’m not sensitive. It’s just, hng. Been a while,” 
“Don’t be a liar or I won’t let you cum,” You tease. 
His eyes shoot wide, brows touching his hairline.  “Fuck, d-don’t you dare. .” 
You have the nerve to laugh at him. All things considered, maybe you’ve earned. “Just teasing. I’m awful but not that awful. “ 
“You’re not awful, fuck - just really,” He throws his head back against the sheets. “Need to cum, really need to—” 
“Gonna cum without even touching your cock,” You say, half-amused. He shudders when the realization dawns on him.“You’re so sweet.” 
He’s drooling. The strength goes out in his jaw as the feeling just builds and builds and builds. It goes on like it’ll never topple. 
When it does, it doesn’t feel so much like a rope unsnapping as much as it feels like everything is being pulled from under him. Like the loss of gravity. His abdomen goes tight, the anticipation of it making it impossible to breathe. So close, so close, so close. His brain feels shut off, mindlessly humping along air to capitalize on everything. You’re encouraging only eggs him on further. He lets out a garbled little noise, choking. His voice rasps as electricity flows through him. 
And he cums, there’s an orgasm - but nothing comes out. He cums so hard but his balls still feel so tight and full. It feels good but he’s still so fucking hard. It snaps him awake as his eyes open, and you’re staring at his cock a little awestruck. 
“Oh, poor baby,” You say - not exactly mocking him but not exactly being kind either. Katsuki stares at you lost and hazy. “A dry orgasm after all of that. That’s just cruel. 
He heaves. “What the….how am I supposed to?” 
His dick aches. Fuck he almost wants to cry. 
Your hand wraps around the base of his shaft in a sudden movement, making him hiss. He almost cusses you out. Sensitive, too sensitive. You put your thumb over the tip of his cock, more pre-cum leaking from it as you. You look mesmerized as it dribbles against your thumb
A long pause. 
“Hey,” Your expression is  serious. “Do you wanna fuck me?” 
“What?” 
“I’m really turned on right now, shit. I was planning on just helping you but, you didn’t cum yet and I’m...,” You’re looking at him so directly. His heart pounds. “You can say no,” 
Of course he wants to fuck you. That’s what he wants to say. He doesn’t know where he’d find the fucking gall. 
“....’s sensitive,” He says instead, flushing with embarrassment. You brighten up. “Just… give me a minute,” 
“I will but first,” You rummage through your items and pull out a plug. His eyes widen. “It’ll feel good, I promise.” 
He grumbles, but doesn’t reject you. You have some kind of miracle in you - so he feels more inclined to just give in to whatever you say. You look eager to do it. He doesn’t know how he feels about that. 
It’s easy enough to put the plug in when he’s already all soft. He’s still sensitive and swollen. He hisses as the cool metal of the plug slides into softened hole, before settling. You give him a little tap on his which he glares at you for. Your only response is laughter. 
There’s nothing to talk about while Katsuki watches you undress. You don’t take it all off - just your bottoms. It’s not that he has nothing on his mind. Just that… seeing you like that isn’t making him any less hard. He just… looks at you. Dumbly. You slide your shorts off in one go and your underwear along with it, and you’re all on display. 
It’s pretty. Your pussy is really pretty. A horrifyingly embarrassing thing for him to think but it’s true. There’s a fine layer of hair on your mound that he likes. You’re dripping wet like you said you were, and that doesn’t make the situation any easier. You give him a little smug grin as you settle over his lap. He stares at you completely absent-minded, flushed. 
“Like what you see?” You tease. He’s too struck to lie to you. 
“Yeah,” He rasps. He’s out of his mind right now. He blames it on his dick. “I wish I could take these fuckin’ cuffs off.” 
You look at him a little surprised. “You don’t like being cuffed and restrained?” 
His ears feel hot, heat prickling up his skin. “Didn’t say that just,” He groans even trying to say it. “...Wanna touch you,” 
He trails off. You use your hand to turn his face back to you, cupping his jaw as you bend forward to kiss him. He stares at you wide-eyed, making a noise of surprise. This kiss is different from all the others. Deeper, with more feeling. He gets into it, lifting his head to kiss you back. 
When you pull away, you’re all fluttered lashes and adoration. 
“After I drain your dick dry,” You say with a confidence that astounds him. “I’ll take them off and let you fuck me proper. But you have to tell me you want that, first. Do you wanna fuck me, baby?” 
“Shit. Y-yeah,” He nods, feeling absolutely swept up in your pace. 
“Say it.” 
“I wanna fuck you, dammit,” He stutters through the last of his sentence. “Don’t make me beg, my dick is going to blow off if you keep torturing me.” 
You laugh good naturedly and he feels a little proud that he made you laugh. The thought that he’s beyond whipped wipes the smile off his face completely, but whatever. 
You pull back, sitting up as you examine his cock. You hold it up to you, weighing your options. 
“I’m too horny to open myself up. I’m just gonna sit on it, ‘kay? Don’t buck your hips up,” 
He opens his mouth to protest, but the words die in his mouth. The warm, wet heat of your cunt is immediately overstimulating. He groans so gutterally it startles him. Like it’s punched out of him. This is the only pressure his hard cock has gotten in months and it’s making him feel like he’s on fire. 
You don’t give him a chance to cover. You lean over him as you maneuver his cock to your entrance with all disregard for his sanity. You hiss as the tip finds the spot. Fuck you’re wet. Your insides are so soft, so sticky - but you’re still so damn tight. 
As you promised you go slowly. It doesn’t help him losing his mind. Worsened by the fact he can see you on top of him, all bated breaths and shaky moans. There must be a dull pain, but you only give him a smile as you get the first inch. 
“You’re big,” You say breathlessly. His cock twitches to life. “Feels fucking good. Shit, that’s amazing. Haha, I can feel you so deep already.” 
“Please stop talking, before I, haah,” 
“Don’t cum yet,” You demand, lowering yourself further and further until you’ve bottomed out. Katsuki feels fucking crazy. “Let me get my fill first.” 
“Ngh, easier said than fucking done,” 
You just laugh. “Try your hardest, Mr. Hero. Show off your endurance, hm?” 
He groans as you start to move. You really don’t regard him at all. You lean over him with one hand and use your other to tease and toy with your clit as you ride his cock with reckless abandon. The room is quick to fill with noise - the sound of skin slapping skin, the skin sticking where your hips meet his thighs. 
 You’re moaning in little broken waves. He’s not going to last if he listens to you anymore. 
He’s biting the inside of his cheek trying not to cum, but you don’t make it easy. You’re riding him with so much force, using him. Your pussy is so tight it’s gripping him, sucking him dry. A vice-like grip, sticky and pliant over the hard curve of his cock. Everytime you bounce and throw your ass a little harder onto him, he can feel you. Feel himself and  how deep he is. His hands tighten into fists where they’re cuffed in front of him. 
He’s never been… used like this. But he doesn’t hate it the way you disregard him to chase your own pleasure while being so generally mindful of his own. You take and take and take but you make it feel so good. 
It’s not helped by the plug in his ass, brushing against his prostate every single time you move. Makes him jolt. Every fiber and nerve in his body is wound as tight as it can possibly go. All of his strength, sanity, and focus he has left in him is trying not to cum, not to buck his hips up and rut into you like a stupid animal no matter how much he wants too. 
He can feel you start to cum before you even tell him. Your walls pulse with need and your movement starts to get slower. The grip you have holding you up weakens slightly. 
“Gonna cum. Fuck baby, I’m gonna cum,” You say with a pant. You open your eyes and look down on him “Cum with me, okay? Don’t hold it in,” 
The words alone trigger a reaction. But with everything else, it’s like Katsuki explodes. Weeks worth of tension in his body, in his muscles, in his everything  - burst at the seams. You cum and he follows you nearly in succession. The hard pulsing of your swollen cunt suck around him like a vice and he goes practically limp feeling his dick finally drain. 
He cums and he can’t stop cumming. Pumps out so much white hot seed his head starts to cloud. He fucks up into you, sloppy and dumb. Chasing his high as he pours every ounce of his load into your pussy without so much as a modicum of shame. A month of dryness overwritten by the most intense orgasm he’s ever had in his fucking life. He doesn't know how long he stays there, painting your walls with his spend. It just goes on forever, longer than he’s ever experienced. 
He has his eyes closed as he goes limp. Fucking hell. 
It takes him a while to go soft again. When he finally does and returns to consciousness, he’s still nestled inside you. You give him a smile when his eyes finally open, leaning forward to kiss his hairline. 
“Still all there?” 
His voice is hoarse like he’s been screaming. “I feel like I fucking died,” 
You giggle. 
“So… no?” 
“Kind of. Barely. What the fuck is up with you.” He says laying his head back, sweat dripping down his back. “Shit.” 
“Did you like it?” 
He gives you an unimpressed look as you laugh. 
“I’m glad.” You say softly. You’re warm. God he’s down bad. “We have a lot to talk about later. You should take a little break for now.” 
He nods in agreement to both things before pausing. “For now..?” 
“You thought we were done?” You say with a tilted head. He gapes. “I thought you knew I was more ruthless than that.” 
He groans. 
“You’re insane.” 
You chuckle, leaning down to kiss him. 
“You love me.” 
He lets you kiss him some more and doesn’t bother denying it. 
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melzula · 1 month
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Can you please write jealous Zuko? It can be however you like😊
a/n: i love jealous zuko! however this ended up being more angsty than i intended😭 hope you enjoy!
summary: a party at the palace leads to a deep revelation for zuko
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He was miserable.
The palace didn’t throw parties very often these days, but the recent conquering of another Earth colony was deemed a call for celebration, and so all of the noble families in the Capital City were invited to attend. A grand feast was held and praises were showered upon Ozai throughout the night. It was one of the rare times Zuko didn’t have to worry about his father’s wrath, and so he should have been enjoying himself.
But he couldn’t, not when he could see that across the way another boy was flirting with you right in front of him.
You were Zuko’s everything- his childhood best friend that he’d always held harbored feelings for. During his banishment he thought of you constantly, and upon his arrival he immediately asked you to be his girlfriend. You were sweet and friendly, easily approachable and always able to cheer him up despite his moodiness, you were perfect. And apparently this other boy could see this too.
You smile out of politeness and nod along to the boy’s rambling story about his fire bending skills and high IQ, not very interested in listening but too nice to brush him off. It infuriates Zuko to see someone else take advantage of your kindness, and he’s unable to just sit back and watch any longer.
A harsh hand lands upon the boy’s shoulder, startling both of you in the process. Zuko’s eyes are blazing with fury, his palm scorching the fabric of the boy’s robes and scaring the spirits out of him in the process.
“Can’t you take a hint? She doesn’t want to talk to you!” the Prince bellow angrily, prompting a few guests nearby to turn their heads curiously towards the commotion. A bit embarrassed at the sudden attention, you gently pull Zuko’s hand away and drag him out to the gardens before he can escalate the situation any further. The last thing you need is for him to cause a scene at his father’s party.
“What?” Zuko says defensively as you wordlessly walk through the palace hallways. “I was helping you!”
“You were acting jealous again,” you chide gently.
“No I wasn’t!” He argues defensively only to shrink under your pointed gaze. “…I was.”
“I love you, Zuko, but I don’t love how jealous you can get sometimes. I’m your girlfriend, don’t you trust me?”
“Of course I do!” He interjects quickly, almost offended at the notion.
“Then what is it? Why do you act this way?”
Zuko is silent, his eyes casted sullenly to the floor as you patiently wait for his answer. You take his hands in your own and give them a reassuring squeeze to let him know you’re there for him, and the act seems to coax him out of his stupor.
“I’m afraid you’ll change your mind about being with me, and once the right guy comes along you’ll realize you’re better off without me,” he admits quietly, almost ashamed to voice the thought out loud.
“Zuko…” you utter sadly, heartbroken at the fact that he could even believe such a thing.
“Why do you want to be with a boy who’s been exiled from his own country before? Whose own father burned his face? Who’s so messed up in every way possible?”
Gently carefully cupping his face in your hands, you tilt his head upward to meet your sincere gaze. His eyes are glossy with tears he refuses to let fall, and your heart aches for the poor boy before you. You wish you could take away all of his hurt in agony, but you can’t, so you do your best to take away his insecurity instead.
“I wish you could yourself the way I see you,” you tell him lovingly. “You are more than enough for me, more than I could ever ask for. You’re strong, you’re brave, you’re smart. You’re you. I love you, Zuko. No one’s ever going to get into the way of that.”
He says nothing in response but simply yanks you into his arms for the tightest hug you’ve ever possibly received. You know he isn’t the best at words or emotions, but his embrace conveys that he is grateful for every word to come out of your mouth.
He knows he may be jealous at times, but he also knows that he doesn’t have to be anymore.
Because you’re not going anywhere.
| atla tags: @sirkekselord @niktwazny303
| zuko tags: @thebluelcdy @royahllty @the-firebender-girl @ilovespideyyy @yiyibetch @eridanuswave @lammello @a-monsters-love @knaite-solo @taeeemin
2K notes · View notes
awkwardandromeda · 2 months
Text
nsfw.
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❝ bless or curse? ❞ — richceo!jay x afab!reader
cw: arranged/forced marriage, angst, sloppy kissing, you’ve known each other since childhood but were never close, made up last name for reader, both mains are rich, dry humping, jay’s arrogant and sometimes very insensitive, jealousy, oral (m.) in public space, cunnilingus, dumbification, breeding kink, reader quickly forgets about very recent ex, dirty talk, pet names, nudes, apparition of stray kids’ hyunjin, imessages, instagram & twitter fakeposts (twitter’s reader face is just to portrait someone).
wc: 16, 990.
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rich people’s down to do anything in order to not lose their fortune.
the world of the rich is a very strange one to be born in, at first you feel like everything is amazing until something just tears it all up. you live in such privileges you don’t even think about anything else in life, but not everything in life is perfect.
your family owns an important company that moved around the continent but wasn’t doing exactly right. your father had to close two fabrics in china and shut down the investigation building in japan. even though you still had many buildings around, you had to face what was going on: you were going into bankruptcy. “we can’t do anything about it, sales have been going down for about a year now. if we keep going like this we’ll have to sell our home,” your mother sighed and refuted, but your father knew well: there was nothing you could do.
for months now, you have started dealing with financial problems. your father had to bring mingyu, your brother, back from his overseas education in switzerland so he could study in a cheaper high school in the city, and also had to cut your wings on studying art in a european country. life was going down for your brother and you, but you never refuted anything and supported your father.
that night you had a big event from mr. park, ceo of park imperial. he was celebrating the company’s 70th anniversary and invited his colleagues. you and your younger brother were waiting for both of your parents while talking about the fate of your family's empire, it was sad for both of you not even because of the money but because of how your relatives perceived your father. eminent enterprises had been a family business operating since the fifties and your grandfather gave the lead to his eldest son by inheritance, but no one trusted him due to his young age when he was given it. he had a twenty year peak but now, everything was falling down and they started gossiping and making up rumours saying he had spent all his money on bets and luxuries. yes, mr. lee had given your bother and you a life filled with eccentricity and you always had everything, but he always stopped you from becoming useless, spoiled children that with a snap got everything. “let’s go. it’s getting late,” suddenly your father arrived. he looked emaciated due to all of his worries and thinking, all of that made you sad. your mother also had a sad grin on her face.
the ride was depressing, no one was excited even though you knew the park’s held the biggest parties. you were going to it with long faces and even embarrassment, nowadays it was known all over the continent of your financial situation and everyone was commenting about it, and you confirmed it as you arrived at the party. whispers and pity looks from the employees greeted you, but as you got to where you were assigned seats, your father’s mates could only act as if they were oblivious of what was going on. “ah, my guy,” smiled mr. park with a sincere tone. he greeted the rest of you and told you and your brother to go with the younger generation and so you did, slightly bowing at him with a shy smile. “i hate coming here, everyone’s so bitchy,” mingyu said and you agreed, telling him you two could vanish at any given moment to go eat something afterwards, he nodded with a smile.
as you got to the back patio of the building, some of your known people received you with a smile. “how are you?” yunjin said while hugging you. “we were just saying we didn’t knew if you’d come,” she took your hand and walked to a table were some other friends were sitting. everyone invited you for a drink excitedly. “minho was just asking for mingyu, i’m so glad you two are here so we can catch up,” sooha said while eyeing at your bother and hers. even though you were a little embarrassed you kept on with the conversation that, fortunately, didn’t felt forced at all. no one was trying to make it weird for you even though they knew what was going on. “jay’s being a bitch to every girl again,” said yunjin in an annoyed tone as her glare pointed to where mr. park’s only son was.
jay park was a tall, dark-haired guy. he’s two years older than you and studied abroad in the u.s and then studied at university in england. now he was back and was the right hand of his father. he was very handsome indeed, spectacularly bright and mesmerizing to whoever he talked to or worked with. he was the visual of park imperial. “i heard his father’s putting him in charge of some of the companies he owns. if the rumors are true, he’s gonna be a billionaire by twenty-five,” sooha said with bright eyes, but then came back to the we hate park jongseong club. “he’s an asshole. all of his friends are, they all walk with superior airs on them. they’re annoying,” yunjin stated and then turned her attention to the table’s chat but gave a last opinion. “he looks hot with platinum hair tho,” sooha laughed at yunjin’s comment. your eyes were still on jongseong, who was calmly talking to his best friend group: sim jaeyun, park sunghoon and lee heeseung. they were all nepobabies. suddenly your stare was noticed by sunghoon, who told the rest of them and everyone looked at you, your cheeks burned in embarrassment but could only pay attention to mr. park’s son glares. it had no expression in his eyes, he was just looking at you while holding a glass of ice-cold whisky, when he took the cup to his lips he cut the stare and went back to his friends, and so did you. “excuse me,” you said and your friends nodded. you made your way to the ladies room and calmed down, the whole thing was making you uncomfortable and you knew why. before leaving the table, one of your friends was asked about how her fashion design career was going and she was happy to talk about how amazing it was, you got nostalgic about it and decided to leave.
after calming down you stepped out to go back, while walking you spotted your parents talking to mr. park. your father was shaking his head in disapproval and the eldest man held his shoulder and told him something that made his head go completely down and your mother nodded, then shook the ceo’s hand with both of hers and smiled, it was a thankful smile. mr. park shook his head while also smiling, then your father nodded softly as he hugged him. you frowned your eyebrows at the strange gesture but decided to pay no attention to it so you kept on with your walk. “we were planning on going to the club after this, you in?” yunjin asked but you refused, telling her you had stuff to do the morning after but only lied, your parents had limited your money and warned you about wasting it and you didn’t planned on spending 10k on liquor like you knew you would if you went out with them like the old times. “then let’s go for dinner one of these days, just the three of us,” sooha asked, you nodded with a smile.
when the clock hit two in the morning, mingyu stole you from the table saying you were leaving. everyone greeted goodbye and you two walked away, social battery completely drained. “how was it?” you asked, mingyu said it was fine, no one made him feel uncomfortable either.
in the car, your parents face had changed. they didn’t had any sadness on it but what they did had was a worried grin.
as you stepped out of the vehicle your mother took your hand, “honey, we need to talk” you nodded confused and followed them to your father’s office. mingyu eyed at you like asking what’s going on? but you shrugged your shoulders at him and he just left. you sat down in one of the sofas, your parents in front of you looked at each other and your mother turned her head to the side, your father exhaled a deep breath and palmed his knees. “listen, love. you know how bad the situation is, sales decreased only forty per cent this month and we had to shut down two factories in japan,” you felt your heart turn and waited for him to keep talking. “today at the party james came up to me and encouraged me not to lose hope but i mean, how can’t i in a position like this? well, he proposed something to me,” your mother stood up and walked inside the room tearing up, you felt incredibly confused and started to actually worry seeing her like that. you stared at your dad in amusement and found him biting his thumb with embarrassment. “what? is he buying the company?” you spoke out loud, body almost shaking and heart racing like crazy. what was so fucking hard for him to say and why the hell was your mother acting as if you were dying or something?
your dad looked at you for literal minutes in which you said random stuff about what you thought mr. park had said, but he only shook his head and then sighed. “no, he’s not buying the company or anything. he offered me a millionaire deal betting for the fate of the business. you know i have made deals with him before, but this one… the amount, honey, we could stabilize as we were before and hell, we would be in a position we’d never been before. our lives would change drastically and we could live so well, your own children wouldn’t even have to work,” he shut up again and you stood up from your seat, insufferably anxious. “WHAT IS IT THEN? WHY DO YOU HAVE ME HERE? FOR FUCK’S SAKE JUST TELL ME!” you screamed, anxiety-tears rolling down your face like a fountain. “sit down and don’t raise your voice at me, brat. james will make the investment with us only if you marry his son, jongseong” he finally let the bomb out.
your body fell to the couch heavily, your breath shaky and eyes lost. “what?” you almost whispered. “his son is involved in a dating rumour with an idol teen and even after taking down the articles people have started to talk about it and it doesn’t look right for his business and in order for him to put him in charge of some companies he has to get married to ease the wave,” you shook your head in denial and stood up for yourself. “he does not have to get married to be ceo. what is this fucking business? isn’t this blackmailing? him manipulating you because we’re basically going poor? are you seriously selling me to save your own ass? are you fucking stupid or something? i’m not marrying a random dude because you don’t want to lose your money, father. no, i will not marry that bastard. i’m only twenty-one and i’m already in a relationship. so fuck you,” you couldn’t believe it, you felt betrayed and used but then the only thing you felt was a stinging pain in your cheek after he slapped you. “don’t ever fucking offend me, i am your father and want it or not you will do as i say. i do not give a single fuck if you’re in a damned relationship with who? a broke painter who will get you nowhere. this marriage is only for the public,” he stated. tears nonstop coming out, you glared at him with almost hate. “i’m meeting up with james tomorrow to set everything up. if you still want to study art in italy, marry park jongseong. if not, you can go fuck yourself,” those were his last words as he stepped out of the room, slamming the door with everything he had.
you cried with your face buried between your hands, your mother, who was not innocent since she accepted the deal first came up to you in consolation. “you’re just gonna let him do that, mother? you don’t see for my own happiness?” you whispered, she caressed your hair and held your hands. “we do, baby. we do. but just think about it all, this could save us from everything, and don’t tell me you don’t even find jay a bit attractive?” you laughed at her comment and stood up. “that’s what you’re worrying about? me finding jongseong hot? god, what people say about us is true: rich people is down to do everything not to lose their fortune”.
you left your mother in the studio as you walked upstairs and laid on your bed, wishing for everything to be over until you fell into a deep sleep.
in the morning, when you woke up wishing what had happened the night before was a nightmare, someone just threw the cold reality to you. “the wedding’s already been planned, you’ll get married in two weeks. i don’t wanna hear a single whine about this, you’re doing it,” your father said, his words hitting you like a bucket of ice cold water, as he closed the door you threw a pillow at it.
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“YOU ALREADY ANNOUNCED IT?” you screamed, your father responded with a cold yes outside your room.
you got up and got ready quickly, got out of your room and tried to run away to hyunjin but your father stopped you. “i’m still very young, father. i’m only twenty-one, how do you want me to get married? i haven’t done anything in life other than studying. please… i’m begging you, do not do this to me,” you fell down to your knees in front of him but he made you get up immediately. “you will go to that man right now and break up whatever you two have going on, then you’ll come back and get ready for dinner with the park’s and believe me, my daughter, if you don’t break up with him, i’ll do it myself,” you bowled your life out in his face, but he only walked away from you and locked himself in his office.
defeated, you did as he said: you went to hyunjin.
“what the fuck do you mean they arranged your marriage?” he shouted, face red and eyes huge. tears couldn’t stop coming out and you pleaded for his attention. “love, it’s not me who did this. i don’t even know him, please… please listen to me. we can still see each other, this fucked up thing is only for the cameras. i won’t really date him, i won’t sleep with him nor kiss him. i love you, i don’t need anybody else. i promise you, i’ll work this out,” but he could only shake his head in denial. “you’re so young, how are you getting married? it’s already hard enough for us to hide from the cameras because you ‘don’t feel ready to go public yet’ and you think we can work this out now that every single photographer is going to be after you? ” you hugged him and apologized but he parted you away. “no, no, no, no we can work it out, i swear,” he wrapped his arms around you and cried silently. “let’s give us a month, if the situations grows wrong… i’ll leave you to him,” hyunjin whispered and your crying became louder, begging him not to do that but he refuted. “and even if we do manage to work it out, we’ll never have freedom. we’ll never be a public couple, we’ll never be happy,”. his words sounded like a broken record in your head while taking a ride back home. could you really keep your own relationship while sleeping under the same roof as another man?
at home, you had to prepare for dinner with jay’s parents, and it all felt so bizarre. “behave,” your mother warned. she walked to your father and they both stepped out of the house to greet your guests. “this is fucked up” mingyu told you as you two started walking to the door too.
the park’s came in with a smile minus the son, he wasn’t smiling. he had his hands in his pockets and face as inexpressible as a doll. “here son, come in” your father took his hand and he slightly bowed, thanking him. “there she is! the newest bride-to-be!” you felt like crying since mr. park’s comment was almost like he was mocking you. after shaking both his and his wife’s hands, everyone made their way into the dining room. you sat next to your brother, jay in front of you next to his parents and your parents at both ends of the table. you caught jay eyeing you from time to time. “my wife’s been talking about how excited she is to pick up the wedding dress, she loves this stuff,” james park said and everyone laughed, but jay looked at them in disapproval and lowered his head. “honey, why don’t you take a walk with jeongsong. you must know each other,” your mother said, you cussed under your breath and got up, excusing yourself from the table. jay kept seated, you stared at him blankly and eventually, he got up and followed you.
“i want to talk to you about something” jay spoke at last when you two got in front of the greenhouse you had home. annoyed, you looked at him waiting for his talk. “you’re dating one of the best-known painters in this country. i know it all about your relationship with him,” he pulled out his phone and showed you images of you and hyunjin on dates, in his car, arriving at his place; everything. “i wanted to know everything about you before getting into this whole thing. my father has been wanting to do this since your family’s situation got as bad as it is now and i wanted to prepare myself,” your eyes opened widely and looked at him with fear. “i’m not breaking up with him if that’s what you’re gonna tell me,” he laughed and you stared at his grin. jay finished off with a smile and shook his head. “i know you’ve paid dispatch and all those nosy news pages not to follow you or him when on dates, i know the amount you two cooperated to pay. i know you love him and i also know that you’d give the world for him so, i’m nicely saying this right now and this is the only time i’ll say it like that: break up with him for the sake of your father’s business. tomorrow we’ll make our first apparition as a couple and believe me, he won’t feel okay with it. do you really wanna hurt that man’s ego that badly? he could get literally anyone he wants, he’s indeed very handsome and popular so, what makes you think he’ll stay with you after finding out you’re marrying another man?” his words made your tears come out just as bad as they did when your father told you the big news. you couldn’t believe what jay was saying and asking, even knowing he was right you couldn’t just give up on him like he was nothing. your head turned on him and your crying became rougher, your chest going up and down and your heart pounding like crazy. “we’re only for the cameras, jongseong. i don’t have to kiss you nor sleep with you, i am not breaking up the greatest love i’ve ever experienced… for you,” he nodded and sighed, stood up and started walking away but you took his arm before he could leave. “please. i’ll do everything to make this thing work, but the news are eventually going to fade and our marriage will just become old news. i don’t have to stop seeing him just because of this… just like you don’t have to stop seeing that idol you’re going out with,” jay looked at you with pity in his eyes and cussed. “i’m not dating anyone, that was just a rumour. we’re getting married because that has to fade away, yes, but also because in this industry you have to be seen as mature as you can to be taken seriously and a wife will make people think i have my feet on earth and i’m prepared to take the lead. don’t be silly, and listen to me: even if the news fade away, you’ll still have cameras on you. just as idols and actors, ceo’s are also faces in this country and they try to put us in scandals too, and you being my wife are going to be in the same peephole as i am. the photographers are always going to be on your back,”. even if you didn’t want to accept it, you knew he was right.
“yes, we’ve paid the news not to photograph us but we didn’t pay the people. hyunjin and i have been cautious about everything and as you said yourself, for almost a year we haven’t been caught. no one knows about us, just his friends. i will not give up on him, not for my father and definitely not for you” he stared at you and refuted your statement but knew your stubbornness would let you open your eyes. “okay. do as you wish but if you fuck up, you’ll regret it. deeply,”.
he got out of your grip on his arm, leaving you with a fearful feeling in your stomach. you were afraid of what was going to happen next, you were afraid of everything. “jay,” you called. “i’m not stupid” he laughed. “love makes you stupid, angel. you’ll see, eventually, that i was right. you’ll only hurt him staying with him, i am a man too and i know how men feel when they see the woman they love next to another man. i am not trying to make you break up with him just because we’re getting married, i just know how he will feel. just think about it, would you like to see him going out on dates with a colleague, holding another woman’s hand, kissing her and even have to see him on the altar, pretending to be married just so their work gains more popularity due to their story? even if he comes home to you, you’ll be jealous and uncomfortable. how do you think he’s feeling right now?” and so he left.
you sat down and thought about what he said, you knew he was right if you saw it like that but love does make you stupid. you couldn’t just leave him. you refused to do it. how really could you?
the next day, jay picked you up around six to get dinner. he had explained everything you had to do and how important it was since it was your first public apparition, you nodded at everything he said just to stop him from speaking anymore. “please, do not do anything i’m not aware of,” you said as you stepped out of the car as jay opened your door. people started to gossip as they saw you. “change your fucking face, jesus, how do you expect people to believe we’re in love if you have that shitty face on you” he whispered to your ear and deposited a kiss on your cheek. you interlaced your fingers with his and smiled at him, walking to the restaurant you were about to get dinner from. “mr. park, welcome. your table’s ready,” the waiter said as he slightly bowed. when you two sat down he ordered a bottle of wine right away. “i think the photographers are already here” you whispered to him looking out of the window. “good, the quicker the better. okay, listen, we have to make this work one way or another,” you nodded, agreeing with him. “i hate this as much as you do, but well… our opinions don’t matter, we’ll get married in two weeks,” he grinned and you smiled thankfully at the waiter who brought the wine and served you. jay ordered for both of you and he left again.
you two talked about basic nonsense to actually meet up. he also told you how his life was in the u.s and then in europe, you told him about how much you wanted to study art in italy and he listened. while doing all of this, you faked full happiness and love, every once in a while jay held your hand and even placed your hair behind your ear while smiling and touching your face with cuteness. “you’re making me fucking sick,” you whispered to him. “why are you so fucking obnoxious? just do your damn job”.
after dinner he took you back to the car and started driving back to your place. “see? that wasn’t that bad,” he commented and you agreed. jay wasn’t a said asshole as everyone stated, he was actually quite nice to talk to and was very interesting. you paid attention to him the whole time he spoke about himself and he did the same when you did, at least that was a good thing, you were both interested in each other’s lives. “hey, why don’t i have an engagement ring?” he mumbled a fuck and also remembered that part. he took out a little box from the glove box in front of you and gave you the black velvet box. you opened it and unconsciously smiled at the beautiful ring. “i have to put it on myself? c’mon, make me believe this bloody engagement” you laughed at him, mockingly. jay sighed and placed the ring in your finger, it fitted perfectly. “i chose it” he said, visibly proud of himself. you smiled and agreed he had a good taste, then you started talking again and basically forgot he was being forced into marrying you. talking with jay was very endearing, until you remembered that you had a boyfriend and that you were literally obligated to go on that date with jay. “it was nice… today,” it’s what you said before leaving the car.
jay watched you walk quickly inside your home and realized how hard he was gripping onto the steering wheel, he exhaled knowing he was doomed. ever since you two were children and you stubbornly accompanied your father to see his meetings you saw jay there. he always found you beautiful but you were never interested in him, when he moved out of the country to go to the states he used to stalk you on social media to see how you were doing and jealously cussed at your stories in which you looked beautiful. when he received the big marriage news, he felt devastated knowing you would hate him for an eternity. he knew you were dating someone since he saw all of your instagram stories, and now, he didn’t wanted another man to have what was soon going to be his.
in the morning while sipping on some coffee you texted jay about what your father had made you do: go find a tux for your fiancée. he didn’t reply, you called him twice but still, no answer. you never thought he was then in hyunjin’s apartment, demanding to speak to him.
“my name’s park jongseong, i’m your girlfriend's fiancée and i‘m here to talk to you,” he spoke calmly and strongly. hyunjin stood frozen in front of the door, thinking how stupid he must’ve looked. “i have nothing to talk with you,” the painter said, but jay insisted. “look, i’m not gonna take up much of your time. i just wanna talk about what’s going on here,” he said, looking directly into hyunjin’s eyes. “we’re getting married sooner than expected and i just want to talk to you, man to man,” the eldest one chuckled. “you are a main problem. with you in between everything suffers to go down, and can’t stand her still seeing you. she’s naturally stubborn, and won’t listen to me or her father and that’s why i’m here. you have to leave her” hyunjin refused and asked him to leave immediately. jay looked at him and kept on talking, ignoring whatever he had to say. “if you don’t break up for good, i’ll make you a villain to her. here’s a melioration for you; stay away from her. if you don’t want any fucking trouble, do as i’m telling you. you know i’m not messing around here” hyunjin threw the envelope filled with money in his lap while refusing his offer and stood up, jay began talking again before he could. “don’t be a fucking dickhead and understand, we can make you lose everything you’ve worked hard for if you don’t listen to me. i’m sure you’re not that stupid to mess around. break up with my fiancée today, i will not ask you again,” jay left without saying another word.
hyunjin opened the envelope and exhaled seeing the massive amount in it. he knew jay wasn’t joking when he said that about what he’s worked hard for, even if he loved you deeply, he wasn’t in the position to actually risk everything he had. he had no chance, so he called you and broke up the relationship telling you he couldn’t stand the situation and it was better for him to back off. “it was jay, wasn’t he?” your voice cracked, hyunjin kept quiet as he never allowed himself to lie to you and you laughed. “jin, did he pay you?” you cried, hearing you like that was breaking his heart and he sighed, tearing up. “he said if i didn’t do it i’d lose everything i’ve ever worked for” you chuckled feeling your blood boil. “i seriously don’t wanna cause any trouble, you know i love you and i love you deeply, but i can’t be in between something like this. i need you to understand i’m not doing this for the money, but because i’ve worked hard for a long time and i will not lose it because some rich boy wants to see me fall” you cried as you heard him so sure about his decision, and also because you knew you couldn’t even argue on it. “i love you, and i will always do. you’ll find yourself in every piece of my art from now on, our love will never die. never. if you ever wish to come back to me, i will be waiting here, always” hyunjin hung up the call.
you wanted to rip your face off afterwards, your only plan was to call jay calming up and lying to him. “hey, you. look, i know things aren’t the best between us and, what do you say you come to my house right now? no one’s home and i’ll be waiting for you,” your voice was raspy and faked sensuality when in reality you were bawling your eyes out. you heard jay’s exhale through the speaker and replied coldly with a: “i’ll be there”. men. they were all the same, they all only wanted the same thing. after hanging up with your soon-to-be husband, your whole body melted into the mattress as your throat hurt from screaming your lungs out, you’d never had a broken heart before and much less with hyunjin, you wanted to die. you didn’t even realise how much you had been crying when you heard the door open and a manly smell filled the room. “YOU SON OF A BITCH! COMING HERE RUNNING THINKING I’D SUCK YOU OFF BUT HOW FUCKING DARE YOU GO TO HYUNJIN AND THREATEN HIM TO LEAVE ME?! IF WHAT YOU WANTED WAS FOR ME TO FALL IN LOVE WITH YOU THE ONLY THING YOU’RE GETTING FROM ME IS HATRED. I HATE YOU, PARK JONGSEONG!” you started hitting his chest with all of your strength, but he stopped you by grabbing your wrists and hugging your body to stop, now realizing how tired you felt.
you suddenly calmed down in his arms, jay shushed you and took your body to the bed where he made you lay down and him next to you. “what are you doing?” you cried, he didn’t answer, wrapping his arms around your waist and calming you down. it worked, you started feeling your breath cool off and your body stopped shaking. jay caressed your hair slowly, his fingers tangling with every thread of it until they reached your neck which felt sensitive at the touch of his fingertips. “am i so wrong not wanting another man touching what’s mine?” he whispered to your ear, the minty smell of his breath making you shiver under his touch. “it doesn’t give you the right to pay my boyfriend literal bills to break up with me. that’s just mean, jay… that’s mean,” the tears started flowing again, but he managed to trick your mind into forgetting about it. “you’re gonna realize the favour i made you. you’ll have it all with me, you won’t need some stupid, sensitive painter who can’t give you anything. i’ll bring down the stars if you want them,” he whispered, pulling your body closer to his. “your cup will never be empty, your eyes will never have tears on them, your heart will never be broken, your hands will never be alone, your body will never be cold, your wallet will always be full. give us a chance, baby” his whisper came even closer until there was just a tiny millimetre pulling you apart. your head was divided into two things: hyunjin had just broken up with you and jay smelled heavenly. he noticed the confusion in your eyes and laughed at you, making you frown and try to back off, but jay’s grip was stronger than you. “are you gonna lie to yourself and say you don’t even like me a little bit?” your heart rose up and you cursed at yourself for it, knowing jay would feel the beat and laugh again. “i’ll take that as a yes,” with every word he said, he reached for your mouth with hungry eyes. you never imagined being in that position before, not after what just happened, because you had surely thought about it.
years before, when you were thirteen and jay was fifteen you attended sim jake’s birthday party and your now fiancée was there being one of the birthday boy’s best friends. “let’s play seven minutes in heaven,” sooha said and the boys laughed at her. “c’mon, we’re not eight” heeseung replied, but it was jake’s party and he was the one to chose the very famous suck and blow, but you weren’t really excited about it being next to jay and dooya, a girl whose family moved to the u.s and never came back. the nervousness rose up your spine knowing if you weren’t capable of keeping the stupid thin piece of paper in your lips, you would have your first kiss either with a girl or with jay. “fingers crossed for you to kiss him” yunjin winked at you and you cussed at her. as probably every girl there, you were desperate to kiss him but too shy to admit it and actually act on it, so you really wanted to focus on keeping the paper on your lips. every teen in the small party squirmed whenever someone almost kissed, until sunghoon and sooha did and everyone laughed at it since they backed off immediately in disgust. the game started again and when dooya reached for your lips you sucked onto your life in that paper and moved your head to seek jay’s but he blew on it and made it fall off. no one noticed he did that but you and everyone cheered when neither of you backed off. jay kissed your lips almost dumbly, he was a teenager after all.
after that incident, your childly brain had a little crush on park jongseong, but it quickly faded away since he moved to the u.s and was barely seen in korea. then you grew up and totally forgot about him, meeting hyunjin and all. when you saw jay again for the first time was back on his father’s company anniversary and he looked better than ever, but you only had eyes for someone else. now, seeing him so close to your face and knowing you had no attachment to anyone anymore made your heart melt. “we never got along when we were children, but we both remember that kiss at jake’s party” he said as if he were a mind reader. “you were so desperate for it, just like you’re now… but we were children then, right now i can sense something else in your eyes. oh, baby, is it lust in them?” jay was purposely laughing at your state. cheeks flustered, lips puffy and reddish from all the crying and glowy eyes from the situation. you sure knew your brain was tricking you into believing something it didn’t feel and jay knew it too. you were hurt and him coming to you like that in your state was your last straw to keep your mind off what was actually going on but god, he smelled so expensive and delicious you just wanted to drown in it. your mind betrayed you and your lips smashed into jay’s, hungrily eating them out. your body climbed on top of his and his hands groped your waist as your kiss escalated. little moans left your lips every time you backed off to get some air and he enjoyed them a little too much, showing how much he loved them with his hips slowly thrusting onto your core making you groan in pleasure. “am i the meanest man on earth right now too, my darling?” he mocked you while touching your ass and squeezing it. his lips ate yours again and now everything that was heard in the room was your sloppy kissing and messed-up groans. you drifted apart from jay’s lips with a thread of saliva keeping you together and your body began to move almost by itself on top of him, the man underneath you closed his eyes and sighed, feeling his hard rock dick being stimulated. you glared at him hypnotized by his beautiful moans, so pretty you felt butterflies in your stomach. “it feels so nice,” you whispered to yourself as you threw your head back and humped his cock faster. jay let out a loud groan and pushed your waist onto him to feel everything even more and it made you tremble in pleasure. “fuck” you whined as you felt your clit getting sensitive, jay was enjoying his view as he took control of your body and gave you small thrusts but your hips did all the work. he was smirking at how nice you felt just touching him with clothes on, making him realize you were quite hungry for him before. soon enough, your body shook and your lips mumbled incomprehensible words announcing your climax and jay happily encouraged you to do so. “such a pretty lady” he whispered to you as your body fell upfront, he groped your cheeks and kissed you again, your mind going crazy about how tasty his lips were. feeling drunk on him you finally backed off and stared into his eyes. “just shut up” jay spoke up.
his arms turned your body to your side next to him and he caressed your hair in a way you felt sleepy, which was exactly what he wanted to do. “jay” you called, he didn’t respond just listened. “i liked it” his breath cut off as his hands travelled from your hair to your waist, which he hugged and you moaned in comfort.
your brain was incredibly confused. partially knowing you agreed on it because of the pain but the afterwards was also enjoyable. was it all because of hyunjin? you wept off the thoughts from your head and closed your eyes, almost immediately falling asleep. jay saw this and battled himself about staying or leaving, it was the middle of the day and totally knew how inappropriate it would be if his soon to be parents in law found him there with you, so he waited until you completely fell asleep and went downstairs to leave, before leaving he kissed your forehead and whispered goodbye.
jay’s actions weren’t like that out of nowhere. he was a bitchy, arrogant asshole and believed in himself better than others sometimes, but he also had a heart. a very big heart. when you two were little you were both stubborn, just like your father’s, so you decided to go with them to meetings and spend the day with them and then regret your decisions about two hours after the whole day started and in one of those occasions, you met jongseong. he was ten and you were eight and he looked at you as if you were unreal. “hi! wanna play hide and seek?” you said with a childish, high-pitched voice. jay, being naturally uninterested denied your request but you pouted and insisted, telling him how bored you were and that he was the only kid there with whom you could play, so he ended up agreeing. during the whole time, jay thought you were pretty cute and later on in the day he asked his father for your name and told him: “she’s pretty”, with a silly smile on his face.
jay smiled dumbly remembering that moment as he drove off your property. he had always found you beautiful and used to have a crush on you, taking his shot at jake’s fifteen birthday party, but soon enough his father told him he was leaving to study abroad and he distanced himself from you forever, stalking you on social media and being jealous every time you posted a picture with who now he knows was hyunjin, since you never showed his face on your instagram or anywhere else. when james park told him about the marriage plan he never thought of it as bad but was hurt knowing you’d probably hate him and despise the whole relationship and that’s why he was trying to get lovelier and better just for you to enjoy at least his company. jay knew he was doomed, he knew you’d probably never experience the same feelings as him but even with that, he was satisfied with you being his wife. “change of plans, wedding’s in two days, son. things were arranged quicker than expected and everything’s now perfect” mr. park said while walking into the kitchen seeing his son grabbing a cold beer from the fridge. “does mr. lee know already?” he nodded and sighed. “you know son, i like this kid. this marriage is for views but i like her and i think you should really go out as a couple, yeah? she’s nice and beautiful, such a good girl” jay smiled stupidly but erased it from his face just as soon as he caught himself doing it in front of his own father. “she is, i’ll try. she’s not that bad after all,” he said leaving the kitchen to head to his bedroom, not very sure about what he really felt or what did you actually told him you liked it. he felt bad for somewhat taking advantage of your broken heart but satisfied with what had happened, knowing that some part of you was also okay with it.
next time you saw each other was two days after, at the altar.
people praised you for the beautiful dress mrs. park had picked and your mother was emotional and whiney about her only daughter already getting married, but the only thing that surprised you that day was your father’s words to jay. “please, take good care of my daughter and promise me that if you ever change your mind and want her off of your life, bring her back to me just like i’m giving her away to you now: heart in hands. you’re now my son too, jongseong” he let go of your hand to hug jay tightly and palm his back with tenderness. “your daughter’s in safe hands, mr. lee” he said back, your father nodded pleased and left you with him to take a seat.
after the ceremony you two had to go take pictures for the press, jay hugged you and kissed you for the cameras and you felt a small pinch in your heart knowing he was only doing it for them. you never imagined your marriage to be so empty and fake, that made you tear up and the photographers noticed. “why is the bride so sad?” they shouted. “oh, no! i’m not sad! these are happy tears! i’m married to the most handsome, caring man here!” you tried to smile, showing your hand with now two rings on it and hugged jay faking love, he hugged you back and kissed your head. moments later the staff told the press their time was up and they let you go, a car parked in front of the two of you ready to take you home. “you look ethereal today, so, so pretty” jongseong whispered to you in the car, you turned your head to face the window for him not to notice the sudden blush on your cheeks. “also… about that time-” you shook your head and couldn’t hide your laughter, facing him again with a red face. “let’s just not say anything. i already told you- i liked it” that was enough for him to be pleased with the situation.
the ride was long and you stared either at the window or your phone the whole time, but he stared at you and admired your prettiness. he didn’t wanted to think of the marriage as a cold, forced, unhappy relationship- well, obviously he knew that’s what it was but he wanted it not to be like that and was totally down to make you fall for him, and he knew exactly how. jay didn’t really know you weren’t really that innocent either.
even though you two had absolutely no contact at all during your childhood and adolescence, you two always had a small liking in between. you perfectly remembered seeing jongseong’s face on the news next to his father after his return to korea, while watching the news with hyunjin you couldn’t hide your stupid smile just thinking “he looks even better now” and he remembered just smiling all the time you posted something and then going back to stalk you while thinking the exact same thing as him. you eyes jay and noticed him already looking at you, both of you laughed embarrassed about it. “okay, this is your new home, my darling girl” he announced as he stepped out of the car to open your door. “this is too much…” the place was bigger than mr. park’s and that was a hell of a house, jay refuted your comment and shook his head. “it’ll be so lonely with just the two of us here” he took your hand and smiled warmly. “that’s why we have to fill it up with joy” his words made you blush but you quickly tried to play it cool, walking up to your new home. quickly, two ladies took you to the dining room announcing they had prepared food to celebrate your new marriage, both of you thanked them and ate gracefully. it was quite funny tho since he was in his luxurious suit and you in your wedding gown. “hey, so, i have to go to a meeting tomorrow and i was thinking maybe you could come with me so i can show you around, after all, you’ll inherit everything” you frowned your eyebrows, but jay’s happy grin on his face made you agree with his wishes.
after dinner, you went upstairs to take off your dress, your now husband had said your stuff had already been taken there and you thanked him for it. as you finished changing your clothes, jay entered the room. “i wanna talk to you” he said, mood all changed and harsh. “what’s up?” you replied while laying down, jay sat next to you. “look… you just broke up with that guy and i know you actually quite liked him so, i know i won’t receive everything from you, i know you still hate the idea of being forced to marry me and all that, but we gotta make this work. i was serious when i told you that with me, you’ll never lack anything, you just have to ask and i’ll give it to you. i wanna make this work and… look i like you, i’ve liked you for quite some time now and believe me when i tell you making this work is what i want the most. i wasn’t gonna allow you to have a relationship with another man because i want you to be in love with me, not any other fucking guy” you lowered your head and played with your fingers as you heard him saying all that. you didn’t know if it was that the realization of the breakup hadn’t hit you yet but you only felt hurt when you heard the news, once jay was with you in your room, all of your sorrow vanished and you felt like it was all okay next to him, you didn’t want to say anything because you didn’t knew if that really was a reality, but you knew you also wanted to make that relationship work, after all, you’d be spending every day together and hating each other wasn’t really an option. “i agree with you, i wanna make it work. i’m down for it, believe me, i know the whole recent breakup thing must be… a little impediment right now but, well, it doesn’t mean it’ll fuck everything forever, yeah? i don’t hate being with you and also, i don’t really hate the idea of this thing anymore i mean, i’m glad it’s you and not some other guy” jay was satisfied with that, he smiled at you again and you smiled back at him, a little worried, but more comfortable. “you can have this room if you want, i’ll be next door” you shook your head and held his hand. “maybe… sleeping in the same bed will help. i’ve heard that marriages have to… sleep next to each other so it really works out, you know?” you’d never heard that in your life, you just wanted a scientific fact to convince him, totally forgetting jay was a literal oxford graduate. “they say that they don’t work if there’s no intimacy, but i’ll take it” he winked at you and walked up to the closet to change his clothes. you blushed at his response and covered yourself up with the blankets, embarrassed. you peeked an eye when you heard his steps coming back and noticed him buttoning up his silk pyjamas, giving you a full show of his abs. you squeezed your thighs together to calm down the sudden reaction you had at seeing that scene, god, you felt pathetic being so easy for jay. you didn’t knew what it was, either his perfume of his cunty eyes, but he had something that just made you bail down to everything. “i saw you” he suddenly says, you squirm in embarrassment going under the blankets again, jay went inside the bed and fought you to see your burning red face. “it’s okay, i’m all yours. i’m your husband” he winks, letting you go.
park jongseong was gonna be the end of you. mark it.
“this is my wife, she’ll be accompanying me today but will wait outside for confidentiality,” jay says with a proud smile, holding your hand. his colleagues saluted and you let go of his hand while leaving the conference room to go sit in the reception with a few other workers. you read a book while waiting for jay, losing track of time until your phone announces a message.
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you laughed at the text and asked him if he could go out for a second, he denied it saying he couldn’t until they set the deal. you left your reading aside and walked to the restroom for a moment, while washing your hands and thinking about what jay had told you, you smiled to yourself and locked up in a cubicle again. you unbuttoned your blouse and pushed your boobs up to take a picture of them, you felt like a teenager doing that but found it funny to send one to jay during his meeting. you also took a picture of your ass behind your flared skirt and while analyzing them and making sure they were good pics, you send them next to a: “hope this makes your meeting more exciting ;)”.
jay opened the message almost immediately and only left you on read. you felt embarrassed and tried to remove it hiding your face in the book again, but couldn’t, your cheeks were burning your heart was rising and just everything felt uncomfortable and embarrassing. god, what were you thinking? after a while jay came out of the room and didn’t even bother to look at you, he just took your hand and rushed his way out of the room. “i’m so sorry” you said while lowering your head so he couldn’t see your face, but jay didn’t answer to the apology he just kept on walking until he reached the elevator and hit some number and doors opened quickly after that, realizing it was an office which you supposed was his. as you two walked, jay suddenly let go of your hand and took your face with his hand to make you look at him. “what’s with your funny business?” he said with dark eyes and dull voice. you were only able to shake your head and look away, but were unable since he had such a hard grip on your face. “you think's funny to send me that shit while i’m making a millionaire deal?” jay came closer to you and whispered angrily, making you squirm in nervousness. “just yesterday we became a marriage and both agreed on making this work, but today the only thing you want is to be a slut?” hearing his words made you open your eyes in surprise and went back to look at him quite shocked, he chuckled at your sudden impression and nodded his head. “if you want to be a slut, be one. c’mon,” he declares looking straight into your eyes with excitement in them, his words definitely surprised you but you weren’t an idiot, you were confused by what he meant but at the same time knew exactly what he wanted. your eyes travelled from his face to his lower abdomen, in which just a little bit further down you could find his rock-hard cock awaiting some touch. “are we in your office? someone could walk in” you whispered but jay ignored you. “oh, now you’re worried about people? nah, you’ll do as i say and fix your fucking problem” he demanded and even though you were shocked, you knew why you had sent those pictures. you weren’t so innocent after all.
your hands slowly reached for his belt and took it off, then calmly continued to unbutton his pants while pulling them down. one of your hands reached for his shaft and massaged it over the cloth, jay sighed at the satisfying sensation and caressed your hair while you did the same to his cock. when you felt like he was actually ready to be stroked, you pulled his underwear down and glared at him, he chuckled while continuing his affective touch and your hand almost shakily grabbed him as you dryly stroked for him to get excited, jay made a quiet groan as he tilted his head to see your eyes. quickly, the realization hit you and you spat on your hand to start and stroke him, that’s when he sat in his chair with you in between his legs. jay pulled your hair making you moan in pain, but continued to do your job. you saw him getting relaxed and closing his eyes due to the sensation and kept on with your job. you took the matter into his tip and kitty-licked it just to wet it, then wrapping it in your hand and massaging it slowly, you heard him drown moan, then you moved on to the whole thing and put both hands into work, watching his head thrown in the back of the chair. “take it like a good girl” he whispered with dilated pupils, staring at you with his mouth wide open and pushing your head into his crotch so you could take his dick inside your mouth and so you did, jay going feral at the explosive sensation of the warmth and hot cavity. your tongue worked up in his tip, making circles around it and then bobbing just on it making him groan loudly, then you continued to force yourself to take his cock fully into your mouth and do your best job, wanting to show off your skills and how you could be completely capable to please him. for some reason you felt like you really wanted to impress him in every way and mostly with pleasure, stupidly, since jay just found sexual pleasure as a complement in your marriage. “where did you learn this?” he groaned while moaning, his sounds like music to your ears. his hands caressing your head as he slowly made you gag on him and your lips formed a perfect o which made his sensitivity go up. for some reason, you were quietly enjoying what you were doing until you heard a loud knock on the door. your eyes met his and they only reflected lust, but you got hot by seeing him. hair messy, cheeks flustered, eyes glassy, coat off and loose tie. god, he was hot. “mr. park? i need you to sign some forms, they’re urgent!” a lady shouted from the outside, jay clicked his tongue and whispered something to you so low that you couldn’t even hear him very well but quite understood that he wanted you to keep down and not make any noise. “come in” you cussed at him for doing it, observed every little detail. whom you thought was his secretary’s heels sounded in the whole room and you heard her chuckle at him. “i’m so sorry for bothering you, sir, but this forms must be signed today and you know it,” she comments handing him the papers, jay didn’t responded to anything only made sure his hips weren’t seen and you were quiet. “you look good today sir, is that a new tie?” she said in a cheeky tone, jay sighed. “it ain’t, lia. are this the forms mr. jeon wanted signed? the meeting we had like three weeks ago?” she nodded and kept on trying to get jay’s attention, down there, you felt a little jealous. after all, he was your now husband and didn’t want him to be all played by everyone, so your hands started pumping on his still-hard cock and jay flinched at the sensation, after prepping him again you got him in your mouth and sucked him like your life depended on it, trying to make as less sound as possible. “jay, are you alright?” her calling him by his first name made almost made you furious, so your head bobbed on his dick and your tongue played with every single inch of it. “just take them and go,” he said after signing the forms, but the woman insisted. “no, you look quite hot. are you feeling ill? oh, is it because of your newest woman? oh… jay,” you wanted to scream.
whilst jay tried to get his secretary off his ass, both your hands and mouth worshipped his dick like it was some sort of deity. you saw jay throw his head back while his eyes went blank because of the pleasure, but he tried to cover it up by saying: “god, just stop! you’re fucking annoying me, s-shit” the woman moaned a whine and left the room angrily. jay’s chair backed off abruptly and took your hand in between both of his hands and controlled it, making it suck him off roughly. “you little slut, what the fuck were you even thinking now? sucking me with her here? was my angel jealous?” you whined in response because of his tip hitting the back of your throat furiously but he didn’t stop. “show me. show me how you’re gonna demonstrate to her i’m yours,” his words and eyes excited you, your tired jaw taking him in just a few more times until your hands took control of the situation in the length and your lips on his tip, jay groaned out loudly in pleasure and shut his eyes closed, one hand covering his eyes whilst the other rested in his abdomen. it was true he had been a long, long time without sex and he was sensitive, but what finally made him give in was just your mouth. when eye contact came in, your slow thrusts and your tongue were informed by his twitching cock that he was about to cum. jay grope your hair and made you deepthroat him again, he started moaning softly (his moans were probably one of the best sounds you’ve ever heard in your life) and you felt yourself getting wet. “ah, gonna cum” he whispers frowning and opening his mouth just a little to moan in complete pleasure, his head hit the pouchy chair again and groaned while his seed rolled down your throat. “fucking swallow it” he stated taking your face in between his hand, his voice was raspy and his eyes were a little tired. you did what he said and showed him your tongue, just to confirm. “good girl. that’s my good girl,” you got up, sat on his lap and looked at him. jay smirked and you admired his beauty. could’ve been the pheromones he’d just released or the fact that he was just gorgeous, that made you rub your thighs together to stop the heat forming in but quietly gasped at the sensation of wetness in your panties. “what is it, baby? oh… did my angel enjoy sucking me off that bad?” his hand slowly reached for your inner thighs, caressing them. you felt your blood fall completely to your centre and moaned when one of his fingers traced a tiny line in your pussy. “ah yeah, i see you did” he laughed at you while pulling in closer to your face and kissing you. “such a pretty lady” he says, starting to rub his fingertips on your clit. “no, no… not right now. let’s go home” you plead, he kisses your forehead and agrees.
jay tried to act normal while stepping out of his office, but his secretary was shocked to see him coming out of it hugging your shoulders. your eyes locked with hers and you smirked proudly, your arm hugging jay’s waist while your lips made their way to his cheek to deposit a little kiss on it. “what a…” she whispered, annoyed. when you two got to the car, the driver outside was holding a beautiful peony and tulip bouquet and handed it to you, you looked at jay with sparkly puppy eyes and thanked him. “they’re not mine” he says, angrily. “why do you have that?” jay asks the driver. “a blond man gave them to the receptionist saying they were for mrs. park. he didn’t left a note or anything else,” you knew it was hyunjin. that made your eyes water, realizing you’d never told jay what your favourite flowers were. you saw the bouquet and wanted to hug it, your tears glazed up and looked around out of inertia, finding no one. “put them in the trash,” jay ordered, snatching the thoughtful gift from your hands and giving it to the driver, who immediately found a trash can where he threw them. “no! wait!” you shouted, too late. you ran to the can and saw the flowers destroyed, but also a note. you acted around and took it without them knowing, you walked back to the two men and got in the car. jay took your hands and looked at you, he was still as handsome as he was just a few moments ago but now your heart was sensible. “i paid that piece of shit a huge amount and he comes and does this, that fucker” jay said, hurting you. suddenly, you remembered, you married a man whom you did not love and who paid the man you were enamoured of and paid him money to leave you, threatening him with ruining his career if he didn’t listen. when the realization hit you, you were sad again.
at home, you ran to your room and locked yourself in the bathroom as you knew jay would be there in a few minutes. you opened the note and cried at his handwriting. “why do you want him if he doesn’t even know the colour of your eyes? when i’ve even counted every single one of your lashes” his words made you burst out in crying. you knew you couldn’t do anything, you weren’t going to contact him either. it was your new life and you were now married, even if it was arranged you found it disrespectful to cry over another man in your husband’s house. hyunjin chose his work over you, and even if it hurt you, you had a new life and had to get used to it, you even made a promise to jay: you had to make it work. so you removed your makeup and did your skincare, put on pyjamas and got comfy to pretend that why you’d took so long in the bathroom, also, your puffy eyes could be excused by the yawns the long ride had given you. “i don’t want you crying over another man that isn’t me, suck it the fuck up” he stated as soon as you stepped out of the bathroom. you froze, watching his eyes furiously and annoyed. “i’m sorry” was the only thing you could say, sitting down next to jay and him staring into your souls with his characteristic deep stare. “are you still talking to him?” you nodded a no, he tilted his head and took your hand. “i don’t think it’s very clever of him to do that by his own matter so i’m gonna ask you again, are you still speaking to hwang hyunjin?” you repeated your movement and grabbed your phone, handing it to him. “look for yourself. i said i wanted to make this work, so no, i am not speaking to him. why would i? he gave up on me for money” your harsh words made your tears come out again and jay squeezed your hand, making you look at him. his thumb wiped your tears and he reached for your forehead and kissed it. “i was too hard on you, i apologize for the use of words. i understand your sensitivity, i’m sorry for what i did but just please understand my feelings for you and what i wish for us to have” you nodded softly, jay way wasn’t the best one but you tried to understand he did it out of desperation, knowing you’d never actually break up with hyunjin and also that it would be really bad for both of you to be involved in a scandal about cheating. “i’m glad you can understand my feelings, but i think it was just the surprise that took me off guard. let’s just not speak about this and move on with our lives, hyunjin isn’t part of us any longer so he can send a million flowers if he wishes but they won’t be taken in, i don’t want to have feelings for a man who sold himself off” your words gave you a tiny pain in your chest, even though you knew it was the truth, the breakup was too recent and it still hurt a little, after all, you were human too.
that night you slept cuddling with jay, you two were reading a book together when you fell asleep, but he didn’t. jay closed the book and decided to watch your relaxed grin, deep breathing and glowy look. you felt safe next to him and grope his arm to your chest as in trying to get him even closer to you. he smiled while watching you and finally closed his eyes as he rested his head on yours, softly. sleepiness hitting his body and quickly fell asleep. jay’s ways weren’t the best, but his intentions were clear: he wanted to be your husband, regardless of the situation.
months passed by and your relationship with jay kept getting closer and closer. now, you went out on your own matter to get to actually know each other and two sides won, yours and your parents because of the photographers who followed you around with cameras. it grew like a natural, healthy relationship. first, you two hung out as friends, then you realized you were developing feelings and told him about it, giving the cameras one of the most sounded pictures of the whole thing: jay lifting your body up in the air while hugging and kissing you, all very lovely. finally, came the lovers part, in which you two were especially good at. “are you working today?” you asked him while he was in the bathroom, he replied with a loud no and you smiled to yourself, jay walked out shirtless with only grey sweats covering him up, he turned his back on you to look at himself in the mirror and comb his hair. your eyes stared at his built back and stepped out of bed to reach for him, your hands softly hugged his waist and then your palms reached for his chest, squeezing it carefully. “what is it?” he asked you with his characteristic harsh stare, your lips kissed his low shoulder since it was what you could reach and he raised an eyebrow, tilting his head a little. before he could argue again, your hand made its way all to his sweats, where you got it in. you felt jay tense up as your hand slowly pumped dry on his cock, your kisses on his back made his skin shiver and his head slowly fell off to the back, groaning. “oh, baby, what is it?” he asked very softly, barely under a whisper. you didn’t respond to him, only kept on with your ongoing action and watched him chill off as the sensation slowly became more and more pleasurable. under your hand, you could feel himself growing and moaning softly when feeling the thickness of his shaft completely take off your whole hand and the length of it hitting his pants, him moaning in nuisance at the sensation. “is this how it is?” he asked, again, no answer. jay started to feel desperate. “please… what is it?” he asked again, you smiled playfully when his tip dropped some precum after feeling completely prepared. your thumb distributed the salty liquid as much as you could as lub and his little sounds were driving you insane. “i’ve been wanting you so bad for weeks now, but you wouldn’t do anything so i had to search for it myself” you finally spoke up, jay locked eyes with you and chuckled. “i’ve been wanting it just as much as you have, but wasn’t sure it was the best thing to do” you nodded, accelerating your work, jay felt his knees weakening and prayed for them not to fail him, but when you suddenly kneeled and placed your hands on his thighs after taking off his sweats and boxers, he found it difficult for them not to fall to the ground. “o-oh, fuck” he finally was able to moan when your cavity took him in completely. “oh, you’re gonna be the end of me” he whined as his hips thrust slowly onto your throat, your hands squeezed his thighs and his’ softly caressed your hair. your head bobbed on his cock and made a mess he sure was going to recall first thing after he recovers soberness from his excitement. “s-shit, you take me in so good” it could dangerously become an obsession for jay to fuck your mouth, he loved it there. your hands helped your tongue to please him, one hand on his shaft and the other on his balls, jay swore he was reaching heaven. “god, such a dirty fucking slut for me… you’re just made for me” his whisper made you whine and work harder on him, so his hips rocked your cavity as he felt the known knot on his stomach warning him about his orgasm, but he didn’t want to cum just yet so he pushed you away. “c’mere” he softly said as he threw you onto the mattress, his mouth attacked your neck and devoured it, marking it as his. “you enjoy teasing me a little too much, don’t you?” he asked with lust in his voice, you squealed underneath him as the touch of his hands burnt your skin. “jay…” you whispered and he laughed at your whine knowing you were the one who started it.
even if you were the horny one there and wanted everything with him, you two had never had actual sex before and you were sorta nervous about showing him such vulnerability. “jay, what?” he asked, hands unbuttoning your pyjamas and already had taken your shorts off. “jay, please. touch me” you pleaded but he didn’t respond. “you’re such a whore for coming up to me like that, you dirty thing” after ignoring you, his lips attacked yours, tangling both your tongues and his palms teasing your body. he pulled away for just one minute and made the most heavenly sound you could’ve ever heard, already ignoring the traces of saliva on your mouth and feeling the little drops of water from his hair on your skin. “i saw you following heeseung on instagram” you frowned, not knowing why he suddenly brought that up and laughed at the sudden intervention, but jay took your face in between one of his hands and made you look at him. “can you not understand that you belong to me?” he spat, eyes black and a scary smile on his face. “answer me, can you not understand?” you mumbled a whisper and his grip became rougher. “i’m all yours jay, all yours. everything about me is just… yours” you whined as you felt his fingers already working on your clit. he was satisfied with your response, and knowing you were the one who searched for it, jay bawled to your wishes. “what, my love? do you regret coming like a bitch in heat to me?” you refuted of his comments and got on top of him to kiss him like your life depended on it. jay reached for your bra and easily unbuttoned it, taking it off your shirt and squeezing your breasts over it, you moaned in pleasure watching his hands completely covering them up. after a while of kissing, jay broke the kiss to finally take off your shirt and small shorts, leaving you semi-naked. “you’re so beautiful” he whispered on your lips to swiftly place your body on the mattress and continue to kiss you.
every time you and jay had any sexual contact, your kisses were always filled with just plain excitation, but this time was different and you wanted to believe it was because, like you, he wanted the moment to be pleasurable and pleasant for both of you, not just some one-night sex thing. slowly, jay took off your panties as he broke the kiss, you exhaled hot breath seeing him caress your inner thighs and look straight into your soul. you felt yourself getting wetter and wetter just by the impotent image of him positioned between your legs, his worked-out body looking glowy and more appealing than ever. “don’t do this to me” you pleaded, whining feeling stimulated but he only laughed at your wish. “don’t do this to you? do you know how long i’ve waited to fuck you dumb? do you know how many times i’ve had to leave the bed because you were purposely backshotting me with your ass? huh? how i just play dumb when you touch me by mistake?” his voice was raspy and deep, eyes locking in with yours as you felt the heat rise up in the room. “so i will do whatever the fuck i want to you, because i’ve had enough of your stupid play” jay finishes off, his body backing off and face burying itself in between your thighs.
for a moment you froze down and let your body just feel jay’s wet tongue eating your core out, just for that moment you couldn’t talk nor whine, you couldn’t even do anything. he smirked at the state of dumbification and kept on with his good work, tongue on your clit and two fingers going in and out of you. “j-jay” you whispered and he looked at you. “there she is”. his actions became more and more pleasurable, his tongue making circles on your clit and then his mouth sucking on it while his fingers just kept working on your insides. your fingers reached for his hair and pulled it closer to you, making him eat you out completely while groaning, his hands caressing your ass as he made your legs go up in his shoulders giving him full access to you. your body squirmed underneath his touch and he began to feel drunk on your juices, both of you on the verge of insanity. your insides started to clench and jay accelerated his pace, making you go crazy, screaming his name and just straight up crying and whimpering. “do you wanna cum, baby?” he asked, you couldn’t even open your eyes trying to hold back the orgasm, somehow waiting for his permission and nodded, jay chuckled. “oh, you want me to allow you your freedom?” he mockingly asks, the only thing you could feel was his fingers losing the quick pace and becoming slower and the sensation even stronger. “make a mess on my fingers, love” he whispered and you didn’t have to be asked twice, you held the blankets for invisible support and moaned his name out loud while collapsing onto the mattress with shaky legs and burning red, hot body. jay stopped pounding and got up to position himself on top of you to kiss your lips, you moaned as soon as you tasted yourself in his mouth. “you’re gonna cum until satisfied” he said, your tired eyes met his and he smirked mockingly. jay wasn’t joking, you knew he wasn’t and you feared for life, already tired due to the past orgasm, he reached for the little night table and his neck was fully exposed to your mouth which definitely didn’t waste the opportunity to suck and lick his skin, leaving a little red mark on it which would soon become a notorious, purple hickey. jay moaned in pleasure at this gesture and kept on with his work, pumping his cock just a little to proceed and wrap it with a condom, you licked your lips suddenly eager to take him in you. “what do you say?” he asked, you frowned and nodded. “please jongseong, fuck me dumb” you whispered as he finally entered your pussy and pushed himself onto you. he waited a few moments until you got used to his side and even asked for permission to finally make a move, and when he did moans, groans, whines and whimpers came out of you as if you depended on them, you couldn’t speak nor move, feeling just too much for you to take. “is this what you wanted, angel? huh? is this what you’ve been crazily wanting?” he asked as his pelvic bone met your ass, his dick completely buried into you to very slowly began thrusting, slow and harsh. every sensation was new to you, jay made it be new and you wanted him to feel that. “more, more, please” you begged while taking his face between your palms and moaning with the most impressive doe eyes you didn’t even plan on putting. jay obeyed straight away after looking into your eyes and his hips rocked your core in and out while he held your body and his at the same time. “you’re okay?” he asked, the excitation in his voice still managed to express his feelings of deep concern and care in him. you only nodded, telling him you were fine.
the room was now all messy, moans and screams coming from both of you as the animalistic ritual wrapped you in completely. from time to time, jay used to lock his eyes with yours so he could see perfectly how you were feeling and he was very satisfied seeing them glazed and teary over the stimulation you were receiving. “you wanted it, you got it so take it like the slut you are” his lips kissed your neck and you moaned loudly, jay’s touch burned your skin as his hips rocked you dumbly. suddenly, in a swift move, he changed positions and your body was facing the mattress and he pounded your brim behind. “oh, my god… you’re so good at this” you stupidly commented, jay laughing at your honest words being so cock-drunk. his arm made you get up, his chest on your back and an arm choking your neck. jay’s lips marked a trace from your neck, jaw and cheeks. “all this time, i’ve been controlling myself not to do this to you. i’ve been trying not to mark you up and leave you feeling my cock buried in you for days, so you wouldn’t want any other man even around you” he whispers, sometimes stopping in between his words to kiss your skin. jay’s words sounded distant, understanding them but not at the same time. you’ve never had a lot of sexual partners throughout your whole life, but you had your experience and knew no one had ever fucked or made you feel slightly as good as jay was, not even your ex. “you’re fucking me so good i even wanna say i love you” you couldn’t even laugh at your own comment, he just chuckled. “you’ll be saying that every day after tonight, baby” he finishes off the little chat with a kiss on your cheek and continues with his pace.
you started to feel a knot in your stomach, your eyes watery and your body heat rising up, you whined out loud knowing your climax was coming. “can i please cum?” you politely asked, jay thought about it until he allowed it. “such a pretty cunt” he says feeling you clenching around him and unfortunately to you, jay’s promise of making you cum was still up and he continued with his work. changing positions several times, you screamed for mercy due to your over-sensitivity until he got to a position in which you could simply feel it all, things that you weren’t even aware you could feel, you did. “how are you doing this?” you barely whispered, your head fell onto his shoulder as your mouth suddenly shuts up, jay noticed your silence and smirks, caressing your hair softly while continuing with his chore. “oh, baby… are you all cock drunk? did i fucked you stupid? you’re so good for me, my angel” jay whispered onto your ear, feeling completely hypnotized by seeing your eyes white with tears running down them, your mouth slightly opened, cheeks and flustered and your body heavy due to its shut down. “shit, i wanna be sorry for getting you to this point but it’s so sexy seeing you so stupid” he couldn’t really know if you were actually listening or if you were in a whole different dimension, but he was getting incredibly turned on seeing you like that. jay frowned and moaned as soon as his eyes lowered and your fully exposed boobs bounced up and down, nipples hard and puffy due to the sensations and his abdomen felt hot, a knot announcing his orgasm. “give me one more, baby. one more. god, you’re gonna make me cum so nice” he asked, your moans slowly came out as your tears couldn’t stop falling and your body immediately reacted to his words, trembling on top of him and being completely taken over the feeling. your brain couldn’t even function correctly, the only thing in it was jay’s dick, how deep it was inside you and how amazing it made you feel. “in-side” you mumbled, your words almost made him cum in that exact moment but he stopped himself to do as you wanted, not caring about anything anymore. “please… please, fill me up” as soon as you said that, jay got inside you raw again and almost immediately stuffed you with his seed, marking you as his. arms wrapped around your waist and mouth pressed onto your neck, your sweaty body and messy hair and makeup were a masterpiece in which the artist was right behind it. “so stupid, so, so stupid just for some cock” he managed to speak, you turned your head slowly to watch him and kissed his lips. “love you, jongseong” you whispered with a very tired smile, collapsing to the front. jay got out of you and ran to the bathroom for a wet towel, then he came back and cleaned all of his traces off your pussy. his body carefully picked yours up and you two cuddled for the whole night, jay making you feel safe in his arms. “i’m sorry if i was too harsh on you, love. i got taken away, i didn’t mean to hurt you” his voice sounded a little sad, but you turned to face him. “i’m alright, i liked it a lot… definitely wasn’t expecting that from you, but i really enjoyed it. i’m excited to see what comes next” you playfully responded and he laughed it off, kissing your forehead as he hugged you so you two could sleep. “i’m right here, angel. every time you call my name, i’ll always answer” his reassuring words made you close your eyes, completely comfortable in between his arms and after a few minutes in silence of him caressing your hair softly, you fell asleep.
next thing you knew, your nostrils sent a message to your brain to wake up as they smelt food and after opening your eyes softly, you could see jay carrying a tray of food. “good morning, angel and happy five months being mrs. park” he smiles as he steals a kiss from your lips, when you saw him your cheeks blushed remembering what had happened the night before but he made you look up to him. “it’s okay, my baby. no need to be so shy” he winks, you also noticed how you weren’t naked anymore as you went to sleep, your body was covered by one of jays t-shirts and you also could feel your panties on, when he noticed your confused face the only thing he did was smile, and you smiled back at him. “little birdie told me your favourite breakfast was avocado-egg toast with iced coffee, so here it is” he says, eyeing you the tray. “oh, jay… you didn’t have to do this” you whispered sorta embarrassed, he nodded a no and convinced you to eat. “i’m your husband, taking care of you is my responsibility” you tried to hide your flustered face as you had a bite of the toastie, he laughed. “let’s go out today, wanna take you on a date” you agreed with him, jay telling you he loved you as he walked up to the bathroom to shower but you stopped him, hugging him tightly from behind. “happy five months being mr. loverman, darling” he turned around and wrapped his arms around your waist, carrying you. “can i have breakfast myself, please?” he whispered throwing you onto the mattress. “jay!” you laughed as he started wetly kissing your lower abdomen, slowly taking your panties off.
once you two were ready, he drove to the city to an art museum. jay stepped out of the car and opened the door from you, some people recognised you and taking photographs, but you two paid no attention to them and walked inside the building. “i wanna show you a painting i saw here the other day, because it reminds me of you” he says, holding your hand and kissing it, you smiled like a little kid. even though jay wanted to show you a specific piece, he let you peek through the whole museum analyzing every single one in there until you reached the one he wanted. “how does it remind you of me?” you asked, jay hugged you from behind and rested his head on top of yours after kissing it. “the painter says he made this painting by causality, it wasn’t planned or anything, it took him ten years to finish it because he only worked on it when he remembered. this is his best painting out of all his work, it’s valued at one million dollars and people come all the way to this museum just to see it. it’s beautiful, and what’s even more beautiful about it is how it’s something that was destined to be with him no matter what, but it took him so much time to complete and also, see how the boy has greyish hair? like me” he said excitedly, you smiled so big at how he sounded and could only turn your body to face him and take his face between your hands. “the painting’s named ‘here, there and everywhere’ like my favourite beatles song” you whisper to him, jay closes his eyes while smiling. “let’s buy that piece” he suddenly says whilst you two finally walked away, you frowned and stopped abruptly, laughing nervously. “what? no, it’s too expensive for an art piece” jay titled his head and nodded in refusal, you continued stating your firm position. “it’s too much, jay” but he didn’t care, for him, nothing was too much and you knew that, park jongseong would be the youngest billionaire of the whole country in a few months, you knew he could pay that and more if he felt like it. it wasn’t like you weren’t used to expenses, but an art piece? your father would never invest in such a thing. “i don’t see why i can’t spend my money on something that feels somewhat… personal for me. that painting’s a beautiful casualty, just like you and i are” his feet started moving again, yours with his. jay asked a worker where he could sign for a purchase, the man immediately recognizing him took you two to where this business was made and as you walked next to your husband to the director’s office, your worst nightmare came true. “you gotta be fucking kidding me” jay laughed incredulously, you sighed deeply and looked at him. “mr. park? ah! come in! i was just finishing with mr. hwang here, he’ll be presenting his new artwork next week, please, come and bring your beautiful wife! i’m sure you’ll be a big fan of his work” the director smiled innocently, jay shook his hand but never agreed to the invitation. hyunjin stood up frozen, quietly looking at you in disbelief. his face went white and his eyes glazed. “i’ll let you two finish” jay said, but mr. kim, the director, refused. “i’ll wait outside” you whispered, leaving his hand and waking away, uncomfortable. “i guess our deal is closed, mr. kim. i’ll see you in these days, thank you” hyunjin said, walking into your direction. jay tried to go too, but the director got him and he couldn’t leave now, he knew him, so he simply had to continue with the purchase.
you took a deep breath and cussed because of the horrible encounter, but hyunjin quickly reached for your arms and took you in a hug. in shock, you backed off, immediately looking everywhere to see if anyone was around. “you can’t possibly tell me you’re okay with him now and you love him. you can’t, please tell me you don’t” his eyes glistened and tried to reach for you again, but you walked away. “hyunjin, please. i understand your career is incredibly important but you chose the money over me, i couldn’t possibly find myself crying for you because you traded me and also, i do not have to tell you if i’m okay or not with my husband, nor if i love him” he shook his head and wiped his tears off. “your husband? you say it with such naturalness, god… what does he have that i don’t? why did you choose him over me?” he almost shouted, again, you looked everywhere for witnesses, fortunately finding nobody. “she chose me over you because i would never put anything over her, anything. i’m her husband, want it or not. if you ever try to touch her again, i’ll personally cut your fucking hands off so you live with the pain of losing her and your job too, so you end up with nothing” jay hugged your waist, your eyes hyunjin while hugging your husband’s arm. hyunjin looked at you in awe, hurt. “did you buy the painting?” you suddenly asked, jay nodded while giving you a tiny smirk. “it’ll be home tomorrow morning, angel” he kissed your forehead, making you blush unconsciously. hyunjin just stood there in front of you, tears running down his eyes as he simply saw you two walking away from him. after that, you never saw him ever again, but knew his artwork was all related to you and the moments he had next to you and so were his next exhibitions. you pitied him, but unfortunately had no will to help him.
after leaving the museum and going for lunch at your favorite restaurant, you and jay headed back home to keep on celebrating the day but now with his parents and your family. in the car, you opened twitter app and immediately burst into laughter. jay looked at you and clearly asked you what had happened and you showed him the post. he also laughed but took it better than you.
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“i guess our parents could use one or two grandchildren” he comments, you hit his shoulder crying in laughter. “shut up, we’re incredibly young for kids” you shook your head in refusal but actually thought about it. how would it be if you two formed a family? how would jay be as a father? and who the fuck told a gossip newsletter that you two were trying?
at night, after dinner, everyone was having a cup of wine while talking about life, business and of course, the main dish: your marriage. you walked up to your father who was looking for another bottle of wine and smiled at you as he saw you. “i’m sorry i was such a brat back then… turns out i fell in love with him, and jay’s basically prince charming, father” you said shyly, mr. lee straightened his back as he smiled at you. “i would never have make you do that if i didn’t knew the guy and i knew jongseong was a good man, would take good care of my daughter. i liked him even before the situation got the way it did, he was a highly educated, great boy. i just wanted the best for my princess” he kissed your forehead. “you always knew. you always knew he liked me since we were children” you father laughed guilty, tilted his head and pretended to read the label on the wine bottle. “both james and i knew. we both wanted you to end up together but never discussed it until the situation… happened” he nodded, you looked at him with spark in your eyes and imitated his nodding. “i love jongseong, father. he’s a great man, son, husband, son-in-law, boss, everything. thank you” your father hugged you, not responding to your words and walked away from the kitchen next to you.
you sat down next to jay, who wrapped his arms around your shoulders and kept on talking with his mother-in-law about business, you kept quiet next to him suddenly hypnotized by his mien, knowing you’d won the lottery being his wife. “i love you, park jongseong” you whispered to him out of nowhere. jay shut his ears to everyone but you, turned his face to look at your face and kissed your forehead with a big, long kiss. “i love you so much” you kept on saying, jay responded the same, hugging you into his body completely. “when we first got into this i saw it as a curse, thinking i probably did something to receive such punishment but now? it’s a blessing, you are. i love you, i love everything about you, this… us” his eyes watered and he did not speak, knowing if he did he’d probably burst out crying. “i don’t think you understand how much i love you, angel. i love you so much” he finally said, fighting the urge to jump up and down all around the house knowing he finally made the relationship reciprocal. “okay, love birds. it’s getting late, we’ll get going” mrs. park said, standing up next to everyone. as you greeted them goodbye, your father came up to jay and gave him a long hug, palming his back softly. “thank you, son” his words sounding like a golden broken record on your husband’s head, he could only nod in response.
when everyone left and you two were finally alone, jay cornered you onto the wall and kissed your lips hungrily. “we fuck once and now you wanna do it every day?” he nods, shameless. “can’t help myself, your pussy’s basically made for me” he kept on kissing you and you followed him. “let’s do something, yeah? let’s go change, prepare for bed and all that, then we’ll fuck as many times as you wish. i just wanna have some peace after today” he smiles, agreeing with your wish. you two showered and you changed into one of his t-shirts, you two mimicked each other while doing your skincare routine. “i think we need more wine for this. drunk sex’s the best sex” jay comments, you roll your eyes but follow him downstairs, wanting to get a snack for yourself. on the way down, you stopped abruptly and pouted, jay turned to face you and smiled at your grin. “what is it, love?” you shook your head, in disappointment. “we’ve never taken a picture of us, together. ever. we’ve liked each other for a long time now, not just this day… and we’ve never, ever taken a picture” you sounded so hurt, jay couldn’t do anything but laugh. “okay, let’s take a picture now, baby” he says, scolding you and standing up behind you, you take your phone out with the same grin on your face and point into the mirror on the wall to take the photography. “oh my god, i’m gonna write a taylor swift cheesy caption with this” you said excitedly, looking at all of the pictures you took. “from now on, i’ll make sure we have a lot more photos of us” he reassures, kissing your forehead.
you loved park jongseong. you loved him so much that you were now one of those girls who saw something at a store and said: oh, my boyfriend would love this. one of those girls who are present in the conversation and someone suddenly says something that makes you say: oh, like my boyfriend, he does that too. one of those girls who are hanging out with their friends and out of nowhere say: i miss my boyfriend. but you know what was better? that he’s your husband. you weren’t scared of anything, you had something more than further from a formal boyfriend and girlfriend relationship; you were married. “i love you, jay. i don’t care if i say it three times in every sentence. i love you” you say after returning to your senses. jongseong turns to face you and laughs, getting you on top of the kitchen isle to be perfectly face to face. “believe me, i love you more” he says as he starts kissing you, but your phone starts interrupting your make out session by the sound of notifications coming up to it. “what is it?” he asks annoyed. “i think they’re going feral for our photo” you answer showing him your phone. “i don’t care, just let me fuck you, please” he begged, you laughed at him and grabbed his face to attack his lips.
so, yes, rich people’s down to do anything in order to not lose their fortune, but sometimes that’s for the better. like you two.
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bettysupremacy · 1 month
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Could I request something with James? Where reader lashes out at him and she had arguments with her ex a lot and expected this (her lash out) to get into a really big argument but he’s just like „okay noted“ and super kind about it (a little bit inspired by all my ghosts by lizzy)
(You can obviously change stuff to your liking and no pressure)
all hail lizzy mcalpine. i loved this request and i love james! thank you!
“Im serious, James!” You exclaim, a little louder than necessary. “I miss you! You’re always at practice, or with the boys, and I love the boys! But I miss you!”
He pauses in the doorway, startled by your reaction.
Remus and Sirius miss me too, you expect him to say, or rather, I can’t miss rugby cause you miss me a little more. You anticipate the sting of his words before they come, bracing yourself as you lean back against the kitchen countertop. They don’t come.
“And I miss your hugs.” You tear up pitifully, trying again, rather weakly, as he walks over. You don’t want an argument, but why isn’t it coming? “You’ve been gone so much. You know I hate doing the dishes.”
He grabs ahold of your elbow, his thumb digging into the crease as he pulls you close. Your palms dig into your eyes as your forehead dips against his chest. The way your shoulders shake aches him. He should never be the reason for your tears.
He’s been gone more recently, yes, and he feels terrible about it. If he’s not at rugby, the boys want to see him, and if he’s not with the boys, he’s at rugby. He’s missed you so much recently, he just didn’t know you mirrored his emotions.
“I’m the worst,” James says sincerely. “I didn’t know I was making you feel like this.”
“I’m sorry,” you sniffle, stress evident in your choked voice. “I’m not trying to make you feel bad or guilty, by crying I mean.”
He rocks you back and forth, arms securely over your shoulders. His embrace is a little tight, but this is the longest hug you’ve had this week and you can’t bring yourself to say something.
“Please don’t say that, please don’t feel bad for crying.”
“It’s totally manipulative though, I know, I’m sorry.”
He pulls back, searching for something in your eyes. “What are you talking about?”
“It’s just-“
He looks so sad and confused as you pause midway. Helpless, like he doesn’t know what to do with you. Quietly, you feel bad for giving him the crease between his brows.
“You’re not mad?”
“Mad?” James appalls. “I’m going mad knowing I’m the dolt that made you feel like this.”
“James-“
“I’d totally beat someone up if they treated you like this, I would hate them forever.”
“Stop.”
“No, seriously!” He doubles down. “I would never forgive them.”
He’s so unapologetically him it aches you deeply. He’s rosy, smiles and boyish giggles. Warm in the summer, and warm in the winter. Radiating a kind of glow that only very special people are able to emanate. Sometimes you secretly feel like you’ll never be able to glow like him, but he always manages to bring it out of you when you’re around him.
You frown suddenly. “I’m so tired of missing you, Jamie.”
“I miss you too, lovely.” He’s serious again. “How can we get through this?”
You shrug, unused to this gentle treatment you so desperately deserve.
“Should we install weekly dates, hmm?” James asks. “We should, shouldn’t we?”
You shrug again feeling weak with emotion.
“Or tell the boys to bugger off,” he continues without giving you room to speak. “You’re much too kind to say it but I know, my love.”
You laugh quietly, nudging your cheek against his shoulder. He’s fond, smiling as he watches down to you.
“Oh, my girl,” he croons, grabbing your warm face to cradle. “Totally not to pull the victim card, but I missed you so much more.”
“Really?”
“I moon over you while you’re away. The boys are sick of it.”
He leans down nuzzling his cheek against yours, pulling back to kiss the corner of your mouth, the side of your nose, the apple of your cheek. You don’t know what to do with yourself, letting your wringing hands float up to hold his shoulders.
“Thank you for telling me.” He says honestly.
You reel earnestly. Only James Potter could thank you for trying to start an argument.
“You’re welcome.”
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