#sending me asks i will still check for those

[wasteddmoondust]

pineapple || james potter

pairing: james potter x reader 1,219 words, teacher and james go on their first date! what could go wrong? a/n: can you tell i am horrible at titling my fics... somehow i just need it to relate to what happens. so uh. enjoy!

prev. chapter

You feel your heart going absolutely crazy. You know it's first-date jitters, but somehow it feels worse this time. It's nothing special, really. You try to tell yourself. Just another first date. Just like other first dates (that has turned to nothing...) And now this first date is the father of one of the children you teach. Yeah, nothing special.

After several attempts to make yourself busy by looking at your phone, you hear your name. It's James and he's walking up to you.

"First name basis already?" you ask smugly.

He chuckles, "What? Sorry, I guess I'll just call you-"

"Please don't, I hate being called that outside of work."

"Got it."

The two of you walk together and he leads you to a quaint coffee shop, James swears by the coffee made here. When the orders are made you find a seat and sit down.

"It's been a while since I've been on a date," he says, hands fidgeting with the receipt.

"Same here," you admit.

He stops playing with the receipt and furrows his brows. "Really? But I'm the parent."

"And I'm the one taking care of your kid for a whole day, 20 kids, actually."

"Huh... and you don't even meet people in the industry?"

You snort. "Unfortunately no, a lot of them are older and married with kids. There's no one to date there. Trust me, even the older teachers try to make me get on dating apps. If anything, you're doing them a favour."

He grins that grin that makes your heart do a little flip. Oh god, it's happening, huh?

"I'm happy to do that."

You continue your conversation, keeping it light with small talk. Then, a waiter comes by to give you your meal and you both thank him. James' phone dings, he checks the message and he replies to it while you patiently wait for him.

He looks back up at you and keeps his phone. "Sorry, my best friend is taking care of Harry today, he was just sending an update."

"That's alright. Is he doing okay?"

"Harry?" he asks, looking a little nervous. His arms are resting crossed on the table. "Uh- yeah. He's fine. Not so sure about Sirius. He just said he's letting Harry use his tattoos as a colouring book."

You laugh. "Yeah, I can see that. He does love to colour. Have you always wanted to be a father?"

James looks stunned, but laughs it off. "Not a normal question for the first date, is it?"

"Well since you already are one," you shrug.

James thinks for a while before answering. "Yeah... I've always wanted kids... Well I'm sure you've seen from the documents I sent to the school when Harry enrolled. I'm widowed..."

You nod, you do in fact know this, you had read through those documents for every child. Understanding their family structure and dynamics can be a big help in understanding the child and improving their development in school and at home.

"She uh- had complications at birth and didn't make it." He let out a sigh and shrugged. "So now it's just me and Harry. And I wouldn't trade him for the world.

"You really love him, don't you?"

"I do."

"You know you can talk about him, right?"

James looks down and purses his lips. "It's just that... other people I've dated weren't really... keen on the fact that I have a kid. You know, another person's child and all."

You tilt your head down to try and make eye contact with him. Somehow, your hand reaches out to his. "You know that doesn't matter to me, right? I already knew you had a son, hell, I even taught him for a whole year, and I still accepted your date."

His mouth forms a small frown, but his hand grabs yours anyway. "I just didn't want to seem weird."

"You're not. Promise," you give his hand a squeeze.

"Is it too early to want to kiss you?"

You both stare at each other for a second before you burst out laughing, making him laugh too.

James starts to tell you about Harry, and visibly gets more comfortable the more he does it. He tells stories from his first words to potty fails. He shows videos and pictures. From there, the both of you fall into an easy rhythm of branching from topic to topic in your conversation. You exchange bites of your food. Before you know it, you're laughing while your meal is long done and you're both on your second cup of coffee.

For some reason, you feel an itch in your throat.

Nonchalantly, you ask, "Did your pasta have pineapple?"

"Yes, why?"

"Firstly, who the hell puts pineapple in pasta? Secondly, I think I'm having an allergic reaction."

James sits up in a panic. "Oh god- I'm so sorry-"

You cough into your first. "It's fine, it usually doesn't react as bad as it used to but I like to stay away from pineapples anyway. I'm not gonna die. Can you get me some cold water, please?"

He immediately stands up and gets you a glass from the counter. You down the glass in seconds and you feel better.

"I'm so sorry that was embarrassing-"

"You're sorry? I gave you a bite!"

"I forgot to ask, it's my fault."

He gently places a hand on your shoulder. "I'm so sorry, let me make it up to you"

"James, trust me, it's fine-"

"I'll bring you on a second date."

You furrow your brows. "You just saw me cough my lungs out from an allergic reaction and you still want to bring me out?" you can't help but laugh at the ridiculousness.

"I mean... I still find you attractive after all that so if you find me attractive after I rambled about my own child to you though you have taught him for this past year I don't see why not."

At this point, you're pretty sure your cheeks hurt from all the smiling you've been doing the entire time.

Despite your protests, James insists on driving you home. When you reach the entrance to your apartment building, he tells you to wait before rushing out of the car to open the door to the passenger's side. You giggle and take the hand he holds out to you as you step out of his car.

He tugs the hand that is holding yours to make you face him. He's so close, you're desperately hoping your cheeks don't show how flushed you are.

"So... same time next week?" you suggest.

He nods. "No pineapples this time, guaranteed."

"And you're allowed to talk about Harry."

He beams at that, looking down and letting out a sigh before looking back at you. "Is it still too early to kiss you?"

"Yes, but for now I'll give you this," you press a kiss to his cheek. You slowly walk towards your building, your arms stretching until you gently let go when you're too far away. "I'll see you next week!"

And like that, you disappear into the building. James is left standing there, still in disbelief of the entire day.

He lets out a sigh, smiling, and gets into his car. He 's so excited to tell Sirius when he gets home.

a/n: if i'm being so honest i have zero idea how most allergies work so please don't get technical with me... also!!!! thank you so much for the love on part one eek i am on a roll i'm so happy to be writing this series.

taglist: @willows-lane @celosiastarr @nsr-15

#marauders x reader #marauders imagine #zee writes #james potter x reader #james potter imagine #james potter x you

[strugglingbigtimw]

“To lead a better life, I need my love to be here”

Summary: Toji notices something is off about you after you take care of Megumi. Genre: Fluff, angst, hurt, comfort, toji x black!stepmom! Reader

CW: Literally nothing, toji and reader curse, discussions of addiction, Toji calls reader Ma

A/N: This man takes up too much space in my brain. 🤡

6:47 P.M 

Toji knew there was something off when he came back home that day. 

The silence engulfed the house, with only the occasional sound of your knife slicing into the meat you were preparing for dinner. 

7:25 P.M 

When he finally gets a good look at you at dinner, you look shaky. Your eyes swirl with worry. So, he bites.

“How was the parent-teacher conference?” 

You snap your head up and put a smile that doesn’t reach your eyes. “It went well. Megumi is a great student, the teachers are mostly worried because he is quiet. They say he needs to participate more in class and interpersonal discussions.” 

Megumi casually rolls his eyes hearing the conversation and goes back to finishing his vegetables. 

Toji looks you over. Maybe, you're just tired? Probably, a mood swing of yours. He shrugs and looks down at his plate. 

“...Ok.” 

10:00 P.M

The night is deadly quiet. He hoped that after Megumi had gone to sleep, you would be better. You weren’t. So, he put his faith in a good night’s rest. It’s been an off day for you, you can just sleep it off. 

3:30 A.M 

Toji wakes up to an empty bed. He fucking hates it. It reminds him of the lonely days of being a widower. He slowly gets up and begins his mission to find you. 

He checks the bathroom and doesn’t find you nor does he find you in the guest bedroom. So, he goes downstairs. He finds you lying on the couch with the tv playing some type of liminal rain ASMR, or whatever white noise helps you sleep. However, when he peeks over the arm, you’re still awake. 

“Ma, are you aware of what time it is?” He asks cheekily. 

You slowly rise and rub your eyes. Even with the low glow of the TV, he can tell they’re puffier than usual. He bites for a second time. 

“Hey Ma, what’s got you so worked up huh?” 

You look down. “Nothing, baby.” 

Toji sits down on the couch. The third time is the charm right? 

“Bullshit. What happened? Hm?” 

You sigh. Toji has always been persistent. 

“Toji..have you ever noticed that Megumi is like really mature for his age?”

He tilts his head to the side as if you’ve asked him the most idiotic question. 

“ ‘m, yeah. What about it?” 

You scratch at the nicotine patch on your arm. You stopped smoking when Toji decided he and Megumi would move in with you almost a year ago. 

“I don’t see any reason why you should stop, seems like more trouble than it’s worth.” 

“Kids learn by example, If I smoke what kind of message is that sending to Megumi?” 

You fiddle with the patch, still unused to the foreign feel as you grin. 

“Besides, I don’t think he would like the smell.”

“Toji…that’s not normal.” You sigh. 

He raises a brow. He knew Megumi was different. However, he always accepted  it as a funny, convenient quirk. 

You stand up and drag your hands down your face. 

“Kids are kids for a reason Toji. They’re supposed to be chaotic, messy, emotional, hell even unpredictable. Megumi is none of those. Every move that child makes is so carefully planned and throughout. He’s never excited about toys, games, or cartoons. he’s always offering to help around the house, Toji he fuckin asked me about our finances once. Hell, even his teachers agree! How can you look me dead in the eyes and tell me that a 6-year-old is “Mature for his age” as a good thing!” 

You take a heavy pause. You scratch at your leg. 

“He’s only a first grader Toji. He shouldn’t be like this. He-he shouldn’t be a mini adult! He shouldn’t have his guard up all the fuckin time! He’s a child!” 

You sit back down on the couch and throw your head between your legs. Toji rubs your hands that are placed on the back of your head. 

Your voice cracks, “And-and I know I’m not his mother, hell, I’d never try to replace her. I don’t need him to call me “mom” and have me baby him 24/7, but god..god I’m so fuckin worried.” 

You raise your head slightly. Your eyes have become more red and puffy with unshed tears. Toji knows you hate crying. You’ve only cried in front of him twice. First time when you thought your pet Doberman ran away. Second, when you picked Megumi up from school, his homeroom teacher referred to you as his mother. 

“I…I just want to tell him that he’s safe. That-that he doesn’t have to worry about not keeping everything in check. That he can exist without having to be “useful”, that he’s not a burden or unlovable because he’s a little kid. I just want him to exist. I just- just don’t want him to turn out like us.” 

You slump back on the couch and scratch your nicotine patch again. You look at Toji with glossy eyes. 

Usually, he’d put in a snarky remark of “What’s so wrong about me, huh?” but he’s all too aware. Additionally, the shock of you acknowledging your family. He’s always had suspicions, but he, of all people, knew better than to ask. If someone doesn’t talk about their family, its for a reason.

He looks back at you and pulls you into a hug. You lay your head on his broad shoulder. You’re shaking. He slowly leans back to lay you both down. He runs his hand through your scalp. 

“You know…” He quietly speaks, almost as if he’s afraid to startle you. 

You turn your head to hear him better. 

“I think..you’re pretty great. I think…that me and Megumi are thankful to have someone like you. It’s hard right now…but things take time. Don’t push yourself.” 

A few loose tears fall as you snuggle in closer to him. 

“Thank you, baby.”

#Jjk #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu toji #dilf toji #toji fushiguro #toji x reader #toji x you #fushiguro toji #toji zenin #jujutsu kaisen toji #jjk toji #jjk x you #jjk x fem!reader #anime x black!reader #anime x reader #anime x y/n #jjk drabbles #jjk scenarios #jjk imagines

[morgana-larkin]

Hi!! I absolutely ADORE your writing!! This is my first request so please don’t get mad 🙏🏾🙏🏾!!

Long story short Melissa accidentally snaps on the reader and the reader ignores her for gives her blunt responses for the rest of the day and Melissa makes it up to her 😏😏

PSA: it doesn’t have to be smut!!! That’s just the first thing that came to mind!

Hi!! I’m so happy you love my writing! And anon never feel guilty about sending a prompt, I was not mad in the slightest. I had a lot of fun writing this and it honestly took me over a day as I kept getting distracted. And obviously I’m gonna include smut if you ask for it. Not edited in the slightest and I hope you like it!

On another note: I’m still taking requests, I currently have 10 prompts to get too and 3 other pieces I’m doing, so please be patient if you send one!

Side note: don’t know if the gif fits but she looks so hot with that pen in her mouth 🫠

Make Up and Make Out

Warnings: feisty Mel, swearing, smut

Words: 3.5k

You and Melissa have been dating for 2 months now. While it’s still new, you know that you and Melissa love each other even if neither of you have said those 3 words yet. The Abbott crew knows, they were the ones that set you two up when they got tired that neither of you got your head out of your ass and asked the other one out.

It’s Friday morning and you're walking in through the doors of Abbott. You walk in and immediately see Melissa stomping angrily across the floor to her classroom. You decide to go and check on her and see what’s upsetting her.

You knock and open her door. “Melissa?” You say gently and she turns to look at you.

“What?” She bites out and you are taken back but you don’t take it personally.

“I came to check on you, you seem upset.” You tell her.

“I’m fine.” She grits out and you walk closer to her.

“You sure?” You press.

“Yes I’m fine, I just want to be left alone.” She tells you.

“You don’t seem fine.” You push. And Melissa is trying not to take her anger out on you but with everything going on and you keep pushing, her anger is rising.

“Y/n please leave. I want to be alone.” She spits out.

“Mel, if something is going on with you then I’m here for you.” You tell her and then Melissa explodes.

“Y/N! I DON’T WANT YOU HERE! I TOLD YOU TO LEAVE! DON’T YOU EVER LISTEN OR ARE YOU JUST STUPID!” She yells at you and you admit that it hurt.

“I’m sorry, I’ll let you be.” You tell her defeated and you look down at the ground as you leave her classroom.

As soon as you close her door, a couple tears spring to your eyes and you head to your own classroom which is down the hallway

Melissa silently stews in her classroom until the kids get there. She ran into Joe and his new wife this morning at the gas station. She seemed really happy with him, and it just reminded her of her marriage with him. She was happy at first too, and then it slowly declined. What if it happens again with you? She didn’t want to be with you due to her issues and feelings with relationships but after getting to know what it would be like to be with you, she couldn’t stay away. She’s thinking if maybe she should stay with you or let you go so you can go live your life with someone else that doesn’t have the issues she does.

The morning passes by and she’s seen you a few times in the hall but you ignored her every time. She knows she hurt you this morning when you came to check on her and she should apologise, but too many thoughts are swirling in her head, concerning you and your relationship.

At lunch in the break room, you walk in and get a coffee ready without even looking at Melissa and she sighs. You just get a coffee with your back turned to her, Melissa stands up and walks over to stand beside you.

“Y/n?” She says and you just glance at her before resuming what you were doing. “Can we talk after school at my place?” She says to you and you furrow your eyebrows. Is she really going to break up with you.

“I’m busy after school.” You tell her.

“With what?” She questions. You originally had plans tonight to see each other so she thought that might still happen.

“None of your business.” You bite out and she sighs.

“What about tomorrow?” She tries and you roll your eyes. You grab your lunch from the fridge, grab your coffee and leave. Leaving a hurt Melissa behind.

Once you get to your classroom, you close and lock your door. You then sit down at your desk and you sigh. You bring your knees up to your chest and you curl in on yourself.

The afternoon goes just how the morning went, everytime Melissa sees you and either waves or tries to talk to you, you ignore her.

When all the students leave, Melissa sits back in her chair and sighs. She’s worried that you guys aren’t going to last much longer and it’s all because of her. In that moment, she hears a knock at her door and she looks, hoping it’s you.

“Oh, hey Barb.” She says when she sees Barb standing there looking worried.

“Hey dear.” She says and enters, she closes the door and walks over to the redhead. “I’ve noticed some tension between you and y/n today.” She says and Melissa groans.

“I know, I yelled at her this morning by accident and she’s avoiding me and I don’t blame her.” Melissa says and covers her face with her hands.

“Why did you yell at her?” Barb says and brings one of the students chairs over to Melissa’s desk and sits on it.

“I ran into Joe and his new wife at the gas station this morning. She seemed really happy with him.” She says and removed her hands from her face

“I feel like there’s more to this.” Barb pushes. “Cause I doubt you still have feelings for Joe.”

“Ya there’s more. It made me think of how happy I was with him at first, before the problems started. And I thought, what if it happens with y/n too? Should I just back out now? And all those thoughts kept swirling around in my head and she saw that I was upset and came to check on me. She tried to get me to talk to her and I kept telling her to leave me alone, and when she didn’t, I snapped at her.” Melissa says and Barb looks at her, processing what Melissa just told her.

“Melissa, I know you know this but I think you need to hear it, y/n is not Joe. Your relationship with her is different than your relationship with Joe.”

“I know, and she’s so young Barb. What if I fuck her up the way that my marriage with Joe fucked me up?” Melissa says.

“Melissa I can’t give you what you need, I can’t give you reassurance because I don’t know the future. But maybe that’s a good thing. Why worry about the future when you should focus on the present.” Barb tells her.

“Easier said than done.” She says and sighs.

“I know. But answer this Melissa, do you want to lose y/n?” She asks and that catches Melissa off guard. She was thinking at the beginning of the day that maybe you’ll be better off without her but then she got upset when you started ignoring her. After getting a taste of what it would be like to not have you anymore today, she wants to stay with you. She hated that you ignored her today.

“No.” Is all Melissa says but it Barb knew how much thought Melissa put in to that answer.

“Then you need to apologise and explain.” She tells her.

“I want to do that right now but she said she has plans right now.” Melissa says and Barb chuckles.

“She lied, she has nothing going on.” Barb tells her.

“How do you know?”

“Because I ran into her on the way here and I asked her about her plans tonight and she said she’s staying home and possibly watch movies.” She tells her. And at that Melissa gets up and gathers her things.

“Thanks Barb.” Melissa tells her and she runs to her car.

Barb shakes her head and smiles. “I love those two but they can be such idiots.” She tells herself and then leaves to go home.

Melissa drives to your place and gets out and sprints to your door then knocks. You hear the knock but you don’t feel like getting up from the couch, so you ignore it.

Melissa thinks maybe you didn’t hear it so she knocks again but louder. You hear the louder knock and you get up as someone is here to talk to you and is willing to knock twice. You open the door and see Melissa there and your heartbeat speeds up. You think maybe she’s here to end things.

“Melissa.” You say.

“Hi, can I come in?” She asks.

“If you’re here to break up with me, I’d rather you just do it here.” You tell her.

“Well then luckily I’m not here to break up with you.” She tells you and you look at her confused. “I’m here to apologise for this morning and to explain what happened.” She says and you move to the side to let her in. She walks in and goes to your couch to sit down and you join her after closing the door.

“Ok, so what happened this morning then?” You ask and she takes a deep breath.

“I ran into Joe and his new wife this morning at the gas station.“ She starts and you put an arm on the top of the couch and lean your head on your hand and look at Melissa. “She looked happy with him, and it reminded me of when he and I were married. I was that happy as well, but only for a few years. And it made me think about us and what if it happens again like it did with Joe. I don’t have the best track record when it comes to relationships. A failed marriage and failed proposal isn’t something to brag about. I don’t want to ruin relationships for you either. I thought maybe it would be best if I let you go now and you could go live your best life without me.” She tells you and you look at her surprised. “Then when you went to check up on me, all those thoughts were spiralling and you kept pushing and I snapped and I’m sorry. When you were ignoring me today, I basically got a taste of life without you and I don’t want that life.” She tells you and then looks at your eyes. “I hope you still want to be with me, because I still want to be with you.” She tells you and you stare at her, mouth open.

“What if this happens again? And that time you actually break up with me?” You ask her and Melissa looks down with guilt, it was a fair question.

“I can’t promise you what you want to hear, I don’t know what’s going to happen, and it scares me too.” She looks up at you. “But right now I want to be with you. I love you.” She says and you look at her stunned. She said it, those 3 words.

“You love me?” You ask her and she nods.

“I do, I love you very much.” She tells you and you smile at her.

“I love you too.” You tell her and she looks at you shocked then she smiles. “And of course I want to stay with you.” You tell her and she beams.

She leans forward, she cups your cheek and she kisses you. You kiss her back immediately and you run your fingers through her beautiful ginger locks.

“Let me make it up to you. I want to show you how much I love you.” She tells you when she pulls back. You look at her a little breathless from the kiss and you nod. You two haven’t had sex yet as you were taking it slow. You couldn’t believe your luck today. It started out shitty but then she tells you she loves you and then wants to have sex.

She stands up and gets you to stand up too, then she picks you up bridal style and carries you to your bedroom. She places you on the bed, then straddles your lap and kisses you deeply.

She pulls your shirt up and you two break away from the kiss for a second then go right back to kissing. She snakes her hands to your back and unclips your bra, before she gets a chance, you take it off and throw it to the ground. Melissa laughs at your eagerness then pulls back to get a good look at you. She places her hands on you and touches you everywhere. “You have such a beautiful body.” She tells you and you smile.

“You’ve only seen half of it.”

“Ya, and I love what I’m seeing already.” She says to you and you blush. She then pushes you down and you lay on your back. She kisses your lips then she sneaks a kiss on your nose and forehead and you giggle. She then goes to one of your ears and licks and sucks on it. She then goes to your other ear and does the same thing, she wants both sides to get the same amount of attention.

After, she travels down to your neck, she kisses it and sucks in the middle and you gasp and arch your back. She ends up leaving 4 hickeys on your neck, 2 on each side, before travelling down to your chest. She leaves kisses all over your chest before putting a nipple in her mouth and sucking. While sucking and licking the nipple, she unbuttons your jeans, pulls the zipper down and sneaks her hand in your jeans and underwear. She pulls back from the nipple at the same time you gasp when her finger finds your clit. She then gets off the bed and takes off your remaining clothes, goes on her knees, pulls your body towards her and connects her mouth with your pussy.

“OMG!” You say. You’ve had sex before but for some reason many girls don’t want to do oral, which is a shame as it’s your favourite. You feel her smirk after you say that and you look down at her and she’s indeed smiling. She looks up with her eyes at you and sees you looking at her, and that’s when she decides to connect her tongue with your clit. You gasp and grab her hair, she moans as you grab and pull her hair a bit. The moan vibrates on your clit and you buck your hips, Melissa has to pin you down to stop you from moving. She doesn’t stop, she knows you’re close by the way you’re shaking. You come with a gasp seconds later and Melissa licks it all up.

She gets up and takes her shirt and pants off, then motions for you to move to the head of the bed, which you do. She then climbs on top of you and kisses your lips. You taste yourself on her and you moan and grab her head, deepening the kiss. Then she slips her tongue in and you lose all thought, except the thought of her. You reach her back and you unclip her bra and take it off. You want to feel all of her without clothing in the way. Once the bra is off you put your hands back on her back and feel all over, she has such soft skin and want to be able to feel it forever. You then migrate to her front and put your hands on her stomach and feel all of it and moan. You then move up and feel her neck then move down to her chest and cup her boobs. This time she moans and you begin playing with her nipples. You break apart from the kiss and Melissa can’t stop kissing you and moves down to kiss your neck.

“Hmm Melissa, please, I want your nipples in my mouth.” You tell her and she smiles. She knows you’re more of a breast girl as she’s caught you looking at her breasts more than her ass. She pulls away from your neck and slides up a bit so her boobs are in your face. You put one nipple in your mouth and put your hand on the boob and cup it while your other hand is playing with the other.

Melissa feels as you suck and move your tongue all over her nipple and she moans. Of course all her sexual partners that she’s had have always been interested in her boobs as they’re big. But all of them never really know how to properly use their mouth on them. But it seems you know exactly what to do to make her let out so many sounds. Then she realises that all her past partners also never did something else well and she wants you to try it.

Once you’re almost done with her second nipple, she speaks up. “My love, Amore?” She says and you pull back and you look at each other. “There’s something that I’ve always wanted to do and was wondering if you’d be interested.” She says and you look at her and smile.

“What is it?” You ask her and she bites her lip.

“Face sitting.” She says and you look at her.

“With you on someone’s face or someone on yours?” You ask.

“With me on someone’s face.” She says and looks down a bit embarrassed. You bring a hand to her chin and make her look up.

“What are you waiting for then? Come sit on my face.” You say excitedly and she beams.

“Really?”

“Ya, come on.” You tell her and she strips her underwear off then she moves up, grips the headboard and lowers herself on your mouth. Before she’s fully on she looks at you concerned.

“If you need air then like tap my leg 3 times or something.” She says and you nod.

She lowers herself fully and your tongue is immediately all over her entrance and she gasps. With your experienced tongue all over her pussy, it doesn’t take long until she’s grinding on your mouth. You have to hold her legs so she doesn’t block your air flow and you move to her clit. She’s moaning and gasping as you’re sucking and licking her clit so well and she’s starting to shake. She comes 10 seconds later and it all goes in your mouth and on your face.

She gets up and moves back down and kisses you. “Thank you.” She tells you.

“Of course.” You tell her and Melissa can tell that you’re turned on so much right now and moves her hand down to your entrance and pushes a finger in. You gasp and she starts sliding it in and out and then she adds another. She adds a thumb to your clit and you’re trying to grind but her body on yours is stopping you from moving. Then you realise her body is on yours, and you could move your thigh up straight to her core, so you do.

“Oh, fuck.” She says when your thigh is putting pressure on her core. “What are you doing?” She says and slows her movements down.

“Wanting you to grind on my leg.” You say and she raises her eyebrows at you.

“How about I can grind on your leg after I make you come?” She offers and you nod and lower your leg. She speeds up her movements and you’re moaning and gasping. Not too long after you come and she slows down before pulling out of you and she licks her fingers that were inside of you. She then moves to straddle her thigh and starts grinding on it as promised. You can’t help but stare at this beautiful woman, who’s also your girlfriend, grinding on your leg. You put your hands on her hips to help and you tense up your thigh to give her more pleasure. “Oh god, y/n.” She moans out and she brings one of your hands to her boob to get more pleasure and you put your other hand on her ass and cup a cheek. “Do I feel nice and wet on your thigh baby?” She asks you and the only thing you can do is nod as the rest of your brain power has fucked off. “Hmm, you make me so wet, you and that magical tongue of yours.” She gasps out and you smile. She comes seconds later and you feel it drop on your thigh.

She pulls off of you and grabs the Kleenex on your nightstand and cleans you both up. She then lays down beside you and you both catch your breath. She looks at you and sees you’re already staring at her and she opens her arms out with a “come here” and you go and cuddle into her.

“I’m still so sorry for snapping at you.” She tells you and you completely forgot about that.

“It’s ok, I forgive you. And honestly, I forgot about it.” You say and she giggles.

Taglist: @esposadejoyhuerta

@imaginesmultifandoms

@idonothingalldays-blog

@sexysapphicshopowner

@dvrkhcld

@lilfartbox1

Let me know if you want to be added!

#melissa schemmenti x reader #melissa schemmenti x oc #melissa schemmenti x you #melissa schemmenti #x reader #fanfic

[simblr-question-of-the-day]

hi!

I just finished doing my daily routine of sending SQOTDs to people! Off anon for the first time, and I'd just like to say that it took me 50 minutes to send all of those asks... :( This means that I'd have to spend at least 50 minutes to an hour every morning for the next 4-ish days. I would like to continue sending these morning asks but I simply don't have the energy and time to be doing that, so I sadly revoke the SQOTD asks from me, but like I say in my intro, I strongly encourage, and still do encourage, you all to send my daily posts to people!

I would also like to thank you all for the support! I checked this blog halfway through the day yesterday and was surprised to see my activity being so blown up! I am very excited to be doing this, although I am sad about the asks part, everyone's tags on reblogs made me giddy with joy :)!

Last thing, I'm gonna try and add tags to my SQOTDs specifying what type of post it is (Build Q's, CAS Q's, Sim/Sim OC Q's, Gameplay Q's, you get it!). I saw some people say they wanted to answer my asks but they were more oc-oriented, which is true... I suppose that's my fault a little, because I am very bad at figuring out questions for anything but an oc...! Which is why I will again encourage you to send in your own asks (if you want)

Love you all to bits! I will be off for the night 💛

#Squat's TXT.Files #SQOTD #Simblr Question of the Day

[dxvxx]

It's Exit Exam day and i'm exhausted.

The wannabe overdue acrobat in my belly kicking me for all his worth isn't helping either. I waddle out of my bathroom naked and dripping wet, not bothering with a towel, even the biggest ones stopped covering my body after the second trimester.

I rub my bump as i check my phone and send William a text reassuring him that i'm fine before i open my closet and rifle through it.

I gave up on wearing my maternity jeans a month ago, so i bypass those and pick out a pale beige sundress.

Grabbing it, i shuffle to the mirror to try to see if it would even fit me. Looking at me, you'd think i'm carrying twins with how big my bump had gotten.

I hear the faint sound of my apartment unlocking and smile when, soon after, my boyfriend strides into my bedroom, looking edible in his black slacks and black button-down shirt.

I rub my thighs, looking at his rolled up sleeves and veiny tattooed forearms.

"Babe," it comes out as a whine as i look up at him. Up, because William is a 6'5 "muscled giant of a man while i'm 5'3 and petite, or at least, i used to be petite. "I told you i'm okay." I murmur but lean back against him greedily as he hugs my naked body from behind. He lifts up the weight of my heavy belly off my hips, just the way i like, and i can't help the moan of relief that escapes. "Mmm.."

"Couldn't help myself," he rumbles, dragging his nose up my neck, right to one of my sensitive spots, breathing in my shampoo. I tilt my neck, giving him more access, letting out another soft moan as i feel myself get wet.

I rub the top of my bump just enjoying being near him, but i have to ask..."No- mhmm- one saw you, right?" Even though i know he's always careful.

William is a professor at my college. We met 2 years ago when i was in a class of his and we have been dating on the downlow ever since.

While i'm no longer a student of his, it's still frowned upon and could lead to serious trouble so we're keeping it quiet until i graduate next month.

That's why he moved me out of the dorms and is renting me an off-campus apartment near his house. Something he keeps grumbling about because 'you're not close enough.' I'm pretty sure if i let him have his way, we'd already have been married by now.

He doesn't respond as he trails kisses up and down my neck, nipping and sucking, leaving me breathless and squirming "Wiiiilll" i whine.

My libido has been in overdrive ever since i got pregnant at the end of summer and had increased even more in my last trimester. The barest of touches or even friction from my clothes has me panting like a bitch in heat.

Something William takes great delight in.

"Have i told you how gorgeous you are so full and heavy with my son?" He growls while leaving hickeys on my neck. He tells me every day. William has always been possessive and overprotective, but he had doubled down ever since i started showing.

He cups my bare pussy murmuring out a rough "mine" in my ear. I'm so wet i drip a bit on his hand as i look in the mirror.

It's a sight.

My belly heavy and round, with the skin a bit pink, overstretched and taut with William's tattooed arms wrapped around it.

My heavy breasts that have doubled in size are aching with my rosy nipples pebbled, begging to be touched.

William's hardened length is nestled against my naked ass cheeks.

It's all too much.

My hips roll trying to get something, anything, but he just cups it, giving me a warning squeeze i ignore. "Don't tease mmhm meeee." i half moan half whine. That earns me a slap on my pussy. The sting shoots up straight to my needy clit and i whimper "ooh fuckk."

Two of his thick fingers tease my entrance before he thrusts them home, using his thumb to rub my clit in slow agonizing lazy circles that have me bucking against his hand desperate for more but he keeps his fingers still.

I know what he's doing, punishing me for refusing to stay home this past week, when i officially reached my due date and passed it.

I get more desperate, rolling my hips harder, trying and failing to get him moving, to give me anything. He smirks in my neck, proud of himself, and i'm close to losing it, delirious with lust and need.

"William Ivan Carmichael, I swear to- Ooomph.." He takes out his dripping fingers and stuffs them into my mouth, effectively shutting up my threat.

Fine, two can play at this game, damn it.

I suck his fingers in, swirling my tongue around them like i do with his dick humming as i lick my juices off his skin. He thrusts them deeper down my throat, lazily pumping them before he pulls out and whirls me around. The movement makes my bump jiggle before he claims my mouth in a hungry kiss.

I'm panting and aching by the time he releases me. I don't have time to process or protest as he lets me go, slaps my ass, picks up the discarded dress off the floor, and flings it at me.

He adjusts himself in his pants and says in a rough voice, "Get dressed, you don't want to be late. I'll see you in the Exam hall."

And he... leaves. Just like that.

The Bastard.

I glare weakly after him and collapse on my bed then immediately regret it and moan "ooohh" At the feel of my sheets creating friction against my aching cunt.

I rub my bump restlessly and nibble my bottom lip. I could give myself an orgasm, could even use the toys in our expansive collection, but...it's not enough, it never is. Nothing comes even close to him, to his skilled, pierced dick and his wicked filthy mouth.

"Your daddy is gonna be the death of me" i whisper to our son before i heave myself up and off the bed with a soft grunt.

William doesn't get it. I want to finish my BSN nursing degree. I don't want and will not drop out or delay my diploma another year. That's just a waste of time and money.

I open my underwear drawer and pull out a lacy black set, then think for a bit and return the bra only pulling on the thong. Anything against my nipples right now will be torturous.

I sigh as i pull on the dress next and wince at how it looks in the mirror then try to make it less tantalizing. It used to fit me and reach just before my knees but with my bump...it barely reaches my thighs not to mention how much cleavage it's showing.

But...fuck it. I'm too horny and too pregnant and too tired to care much anymore.

I stuff my swollen feet in a pair of ballerina flats, fluff up my blonde hair a bit then grab my bag and keys. Making my way out of the door, i stop and rub my belly. It feels really uncomfortable today, hotter and tighter than it has all week.

With a sigh, i keep walking, although much slower, and lock the door before i start going down the stairs.

It doesn't matter. I just have to get through the three hours Exam while trying to ignore the urge to jump William right on top of the desk he's gonna be monitoring us from.

Then we'll come back here and i'll demand he fucks me six ways to Sunday then he'll punish me, in panty melting ways for using that tone with him then...

My horny thoughts stopped abruptly, and i let out a startled gasp, widening my legs. I rub both sides of my bump as the baby drops lower, applying pressure on my lower belly and my already aching pussy.

Well, Fuck.

(This is part 1. Let me know if you're interested in part 2, maybe 3.)

#pregnant #labor kink #birth kink #preggo kink #pregnancy #birth denial

[whatsk-poppinhomies]

GRAPHIC STORY TIME UNDER THE CUT

TW : boils ; swelling ; infections ; major TMIs ;

So to start off, I have this hormonal problem where my body for some reason gets boils everywhere and anywhere from the neck down. Now, for those of you who have the same issue or have gone through the same thing, I’m praying for you. For those who don’t know, it hurts… so bad.

The past week I’ve been suffering with a boil right at the edge of my ribcage and underneath my boob(my boobs are rather large, which doesn’t make things any better). The first half of the week, it was bearable, it was sore, but not too bad.

Fast forward to today, and it has swollen on the top to the size of a dollar coin, and underneath the skin, it’s swollen to the size of a ping pong ball, and the bruising has expanded the size of a tennis ball. It HURTS. My boobs are constantly rubbing against it, and at this point, the top layer if skin has literally been chaffed off from the constant friction of both my boobs and my bra when I have to wear one.

If I was at my old job, I would have called out, but alas, I just started a new job, I’m on 90 day probation, so I’m scared to call out. So I go in. I am in TEARS as I leave my house, but I don’t want to lose my job, so I pull aside my crew leader (love her so much, she’s amazing) at the start of the night and ask her if I can be on light work. She agreed.

Fast forward an hour into the shift, my back hurts from trying to stand a certain way to relieve some pressure, but I am in so much pain that once I go out on break, I full on cry like a baby in my car. Like, hyperventilating, sobbing, blubbering, I’m a mess. I call my mom, I’m crying to her, don’t know how she understands a thing I’m saying, but she tells me to do what I think I have to do to not be in pain.

SO

I go in, not even finishing my break, I find my crew leader, still crying btw, and I ask if I can talk to her in the office. She agrees, and I get to the office, and I tell her that it’s really bad, I can’t take it.

Now, the cool thing about my job is that we have a medical office and first responders literally ON SITE, they just be working there as normal people until there’s a medical emergency.

So she calls the first responders and the two sweetest, loveliest ladies come up to the office, and they’re trying to calm me down first. It doesn’t work but A+ for maximum effort.

They’re contemplating whether to send me home or not because it is my 90 days (and in their defense, a lot of people bullshit being hurt to try to go home early). So they ask to see it, and lemme tell you, the audible gasps that left all 3 women’s mouths, that shit had me feeling like I was about to die on the spot. (Turns out they were just genuinely shocked and concerned that I came into work, and this was when I still had a bandaid on over it.)

So they take me down to the medical office, and they carefully take the bandaid off, and again, the GASP when they saw the big picture. They were so apologetic even though it wasn’t even their fault, and they were trying to figure out what to do because they didn’t want to touch it or hurt me more. They ended up just putting ointment on it and then gauzing me up like I’ve been shot, but I love them all for how kind they were.

They were offering to drive me home and everything and they told me not to worry about the 90 day thing right now and to just focus on fixing my problem and going to the doctor as soon as possible to get checked because my boil is definitely infected and they don’t want me to go into septic shock.

They even walked me out to my car and made sure I was okay with driving before going back inside.

Like, this job is amazing! Not the work, all work sucks a majority of the time; but the people that I work with genuinely care. I’ve only been there a week and everyone greets me with a smile and they just all care about one another.

I might be in severe pain and on the brink of sepsis, but the people at my job care and that makes my heart feel good. I have to go to the doctors tomorrow though, so not excited for that at all. :(

#nana update #my body hates me

[storiesbyjes2g]

3.112 Cutting ties

Love Day came upon us again, and it was so nice to have someone to celebrate with. Someone to celebrate, period. Sophia and I rarely did things traditionally, and I continued that trend by asking her out on a breakfast date. I suggested Vivianna's because it was the first place that came to mind, and I really liked their food. But Sophia was in goofball mode and said I wanted to see my girlfriend. I didn't like her saying that, but I loved seeing her in high spirits in those days, so I let it ride. When we got there, the host seated us at the same table from last time, and that sent her even more.

"It's a sign, Luca! If she's our server again, it's means you were meant to be."

I shook my head at her.

"You are way too high on life right now."

She gasped, still giggling at her silly joke.

"Luca! She's here! I think she's coming this way!"

I was still shaking my head when Yasmine walked up.

"Happy Love Day," she said drily. "Y'all don't have restaurants in Oasis Springs?"

"Of course we do," Sophia said before I had a chance to even think of a response. "But we love this one."

"Hmph. You must really love this food. I wouldn't unfriend someone and still show up at their job. Are you ready to order?"

Sophia looked at me in surprise but also trying to hide more giggles.

"Uhh...yeah, we're ready," I said, unsure if I should even respond to the first part.

When I finally looked at her, I saw her face matched her dry tone. Generally, she wasn't the cheeriest sim, but something was off. Granted, I was probably the last sim she wanted to see, but she should have been over that. Something else had to be going on, and I asked if she was okay.

"What do you care? I can't do this right now. I'll send someone else."

She hurried away into the kitchen, leaving us utterly confused.

"What in the world was that?" Sophia asked. "And you unfriended her?"

"Yeah! She's been sending me mean messages ever since-"

"You broke up?"

"Would you stop with that?? She wasn't my girlfriend!"

I couldn't understand why she found this situation so amusing. It annoyed me, but her laughter was so contagious. I couldn't help but laugh, too.

"Did she look different to you?" I asked.

"Sure did. I think she's pregnant."

"Pregnant? Yasmine? No way."

"She's definitely pregnant, babe."

"How do you know? She's not showing."

"Women know these things!"

"Hmph. Some sims don't need to be parents," I said under my breath. At least I thought I did.

"Luca!"

"What? It's true. She doesn't want kids right now. And she's mean...self-absorbed... Can you imagine her raising children?"

"I mean...I don't disagree, but... It's still not a nice thing to say. Maybe taking care of someone else will be good for her."

Nice or not, I meant every word. It was hard not to get upset about it. Sims all around us kept popping up pregnant unexpectedly while Sophia and I woohoo'd each other's brains out to no avail. WE want a baby! Why won't it happen for us? It wasn't fair. But I didn't want to ruin our date with my petty, jealous thoughts. That rant would have to remain in my head.

"Anyway... You excited about moving tomorrow?"

"You know it! I can hardly believe it."

"Yeah, seriously. I've been thinking about that house for so long... I have to keep reminding myself this is real life."

My Social Bunny chime went off, so I checked to see who sent me a message.

"Oh...it's Maira."

"Why do you say it like that?"

"Like what?"

"Like you're surprised your friend is messaging you."

"I'm not surprised. It's just...I don't know. Every time I hear from her, I feel bad."

"How come?"

"Because I'm such a bad friend to her."

Sophia's lip quivered.

"I highly doubt that."

"It's true though! I never call her. She's always the one reaching out. Even back in the day it was like that. When I was open to dating her-well, she says we did date, but whatever. I got mixed signals, so I kinda stopped putting energy into our friendship. Then I met Yasmine-"

"While you were talking to me," she said sarcastically.

Like a light switch flicking on, I understood why she continued to joke about me and Yasmine. She still felt some kind of way about realizing she wasn't the only one I was talking to, and this was her brand of petty behavior. I shook my head because I knew she would never let that go, and the jokes were a permanent part of our marriage.

"Yes, I was talking to you. I met Yasmine and Chi Chi-"

"I thought you didn't date her."

"I didn't. She came to my classes a lot and invited me to her house a few times."

She eyed me suspiciously, but I continued my story.

"Dating, having female friends, and all of that was new to me. I didn't know how to say no to her. I couldn't say no to her; you know how she is. And I was talking to you on top of dealing with my own issues... It was a crazy time, and I didn't know how to handle it all, so I ended up neglecting Maira. I feel bad because it wasn't like that in the beginning."

"You didn't have any distractions then."

"Yeah...that's true."

"Do you think it's time to let her go? Everyone's not meant to be in your life forever."

"I know. That might be part of the issue. I want to be a good friend while being respectful to you, but I honestly don't know how she fits into my life anymore. But severing the relationship? I don't think I want to do that. At least not yet."

"Okay." She turned back to her food and took a few bites before a very obvious idea let up her face. "Since we're moving now, we should do a combo celebration! We can turn my birthday party into a housewarming party! Invite her to that."

"Oooh good thinking! You know I married you for your brains."

"Ah ha! The truth comes out."

#ISBI challenge #sims 4 story #sims 4 gameplay #adolting #adolting gen 3 #luca winston murillo #sophia aguilar #yasmine angel

[piecanl]

I have a fun qTubbo backstory idea but idk how well it would tie into pre-existing lore so bare with me.

So you guys know how the French arrived by a plane (crash)? And how Tubbo has a Special Interest in aviation? And how he's good with the create mode + has asked for the create extension which adds planes?

What if he was hired as a plane engineer for the company that had the French's plane as a part of their fleet (example: if the plane belonged to AirFrance, he'd be an AirFrance engineer).

He was a one of a kind, akin to a child prodigy, a miracle for his age (at the time maybe around 17-18), a genius. However he was the one responsible for the quality checks of the navigation tools on that specific flight. Unfortunately for him, he had missed something.

As the chicken appeared on the navigation screen, there were no verbal call outs by the system, leading to the pilot's writing it off as a stray cloud instead of an object creating a collision coarse.

This lead to one of the engines, the left engine, to collide with the chicken and cause a rapid descent. The pilots, suffering from fatigue, could not react fast enough. They made many wrong inputs, and in the end when they tried to land on a flat field, they crashed with the wall of Quesadilla island. All but 5 passengers perished in the crash.

Tubbo, after being discovered as the engineer behind the system's quality check-up, was arrested and thrown into prison, as we know it: the Ice bunker. It was a very shady prison, more akin to a testing ground/a laboratory full of lab rats than an actual prison.

The treatment of the inmates was brutal and inhumane, until they all for unknown reasons were frozen over, either as a cover-up or because they had served their purpose, it was unknown.

And with that, there lied the story of Tubbo. A previous child prodigy with a bright future to a prison inmate in a questionable prison.

(I want to mention, I know at one point the Qsmp members took on an expedition to retrieve the black box of the plane, however I cannot find a clip of that so I do not know what exactly happened in the planes cockpit. If someone has a clip or can recall what it said that would be appreciated, thank you!)

#qsmp tubbo #this came to me in a (Special interest fueled) vision #i love planes a lot and watch a lot of plane crash documentaries #this came to me after I watched an AirFrance flight 447 video and was like “wait....” #btw for those familiar with me and my VH dads obbsesion #yes #in this au they're still canon #i think they'd see Tubbo's passion and although very reluctantly they'd send him off to study in a different server #of course they'd ask for regular check-ups and would recieve them #until of course Tubbo got arrested and stripped of everything he had #this radio silence never got explained to the members of Vaults so they were extremely worried as is expected #we could even make it so Callum was in purg 2 because he was looking for Tubbo or clues or smth i dunno #tubbo

[piningprecussionist]

Oh you've heard of me? That's good to hear.

But I feel like no one showing up on your shift is better since then no one bothers you and such. :)

-✨ Anon (Sparkles Anon)

I keep an eye around. I try not to look at everyone else's blogs too much, but I see something here and there. I know there's you, a cat, a rabbit.. two actually, maybe? I think I saw a snail once? Things seem very chaotic over in their sphere. I'm taking my peace while I can.

So in a very similar sense, yeah, it is I guess! When I'm not exhausted coming in, I usually spend days like that watching a bunch of crappy old movies we have stashed in the back; there are some real gems back there if you know where to look.

Not to imply they're actually good films, by the way. I do just mean astonishingly terrible. Like a car crash where all the cars involved are clown cars or something suitably stupid like that...

#hollie beat me to the player today though so she got to make the selections. fairs fair #she's the one who had to deal with me being asleep as a result anyhow #if she doesnt want to increase her work load she should make more exciting choices. just saying #pine.txt #asks #anon #✨️ anon #rp #kim pine #spto #spvtw #scott pilgrim comic #sp comic #(ooc: just to clarify incase the response comes off that way- if any of the people who sends those anons see this- those asks are fine!) #(ooc: idk quite yet how i would have Kim respond to them? but they're still welcome) #(ooc: i just feel like she would be bracing herself and trying to take what respite she can before that starts happening) #(ooc: also i do see a fair bit of the responses from other people i t h i n k? it's possible i miss some. They're very entertaining) #(ooc: just wanted to throw that out there; I think part of my problem reaching out to people now is just that I don't think Kim would 😭) #(ooc: like I think she does pop in and check on her friends and some Big Names out there sometimes? but because she knows these people +) #(+ she feels weird about it and only ever sees like a couple of things at a time) #(ooc: she mostly glances over to make sure they're not dead. maybe occasionally has to do a double-take at something she read and just. +) #(+ Sit there for a while. process whatever the hell that was) #(ooc: by big names I mean like. todd envy and lucas. not necessarily in a given order) #(ooc: incase that wasn't clear) #(ooc: currently feel like she'd be most likely to chat with stacey. scott if she was bullying/teasing him--) #(ooc: like in a reaching out first scenario) #spvtwtg

[frassycassy]

Hey there

Yeah, I'm alive

Just how long has it been??? Hahaha

#cassy talks #can't believe my blog has only had one post for this whole year until now #sorry about that #school is a bitch #i thought that after i was done with my previous school year i'd finally get a break #aha #NOPE! #it's even worse than before #anyway yeah hi im here #i guess i'll try to get my schedules and stuff in check #im still not as into anime as i used to be (especially since i barely have any time to watch anymore and since i still love history) #but i miss you guys and i miss posting here even if no one talks to me #i'll continue delivering the content you guys followed me for 👍 #though i do feel like making a sideblog for my history shenanigans and another one for my fandoms that aren't anime related #cuz idk i feel like this blog is a mess of content HAHAHA #oh and i've been obsessed with haikyuu lately so expect more posts of those #especially kenhina cuz i love them separately and together they're adorable #okay im sorry for saying so much it's just really been a while lol #i'll save the rest for another day #if anybody wants to send me asks and/or messages my inbox is always open though i may respond late cuz im always hella busy #see you guys in my next post (which will hopefully come soon)

[twilit-tragedy]

Scientific endeavours making me feel like 😤 today. Not even lab procedures or getting results, straight up interpersonal relationships and task management.

#if y'all have a MEETING #on a day I'm UNAVAILABLE #and don't tell me what you DISCUSSED #I'M NOT GONNA KNOW YOU WANT A TABLE WITH THE SYNONYMOUS MUTATIONS FOUND IN THE WHOOOOLE GENE #NO I DIDN'T BOTHER TO CHECK THAT I WAS LOOKING FOR VERIFIED AND/OR NON-SYNONYMOUS MUTATIONS #and then NONE OF YOU CAN SHARE A WORD DOCUMENT TO SAVE YOUR LIFE #AND I WASTE LEAVING COMMENTS ON THE LAST VERSION I'M AWARE OF THAT TURNS OUT TO BE OUTDATED #I am going to KILL someone #i hear half of what is needed to finish the article and I'm supposed to know it all #you ask the groupchat to do xyz and then people don't say which of those tasks they've completed #AGAIN I DON'T HAVE THE FUCKING DOCUMENT #i'm gonna go study because I still have an exam this week AND I'm due at the lab where I'll start my thesis in september #fuck. #no one answer me in the group chat and I'll be free to do my own shit #only i won't because we keep being pressured to finish said article but i DON'T KNOW what else I need to DO or how you want it done #and i'm stressed. bout to send an email begging for info #omfg #i'll shut my mouth for a couple hours or else i am going to snap on someone #twilit personal #nini as a lab intern

[gothhabiba]

🍉🇵🇸 eSims for Gaza masterpost 🇵🇸🍉

Which eSims are currently being called for?

As of now:

eSim plans being called for are:

Nomad (“regional Middle East” plan)

Holafly (“Israel” and “Egypt” plans): code HOLACNG —be sure to include which plan it is in the subject line

Simly (“Palestine” and “Middle East” plans): 15% off with code "EID"

Airalo (“Discover” plan)

If you sent an eSim more than two weeks ago and it is still valid and not yet activated, reply to the email in which you originally sent the eSim. To determine whether the eSim is still valid, scan the QR code with a smartphone; tap the yellow button that reads “Cellular plan”; when a screen comes up reading “Activate eSIM,” click the button that says “Continue.” If a message comes up reading “eSIM Cannot Be Added: This code is no longer valid. Contact your carrier for more information,” the eSim is activated, expired, or had an error in installation, and should not be sent. It is very important not to re-send invalid eSims, since people may walk several kilometers to access wifi to connect their eSims only to find out that they cannot be activated.

If a screen appears reading “Activate eSIM: An eSIM is ready to be activated” with a button asking you to “Continue,” do not click “Continue” to activate the eSim on your phone; exit out of the screen and reply to the email containing that QR code.

Be sure you're looking at the original post, as this will be continually updated. Any new instructions about replying to emails for specific types of unactivated plans will also appear here.

Check the notes of blackpearlblasts's eSim post, as well as fairuzfan's 'esim' tag, for referral and discount codes.

How do I purchase an eSim?

If you cannot download an app or manage an eSim yourself, send funds to Crips for eSims for Gaza (Visa; Mastercard; Paypal; AmEx; Canadian e-transfer), or to me (venmo @gothhabiba; paypal.me/Najia; cash app $NajiaK, with note “esims” or similar; check the notes of this post for updates on what I've purchased.)

You can purchase an eSim yourself using a mobile phone app, or on a desktop computer (with the exception of Simly, which does not have a desktop site). See this screenreader-accessible guide to purchasing an eSim through each of the five services that the Connecting Humanity team is calling for (Simly, Nomad, Mogo, Holafly, and Airalo).

Send a screenshot of the plan's QR code to [email protected]. Be sure to include the app used, the word "esim," the type of plan (when an app has more than one, aka "regional Middle East" versus "Palestine"), and the amount of data or time on the plan, in the subject line or body of your email.

Message me if you have any questions or if you need help purchasing an eSim through one of these apps.

If you’re going to be purchasing many eSims at once, see Jane Shi’s list of tips.

Which app should I use?

Try to buy an eSim from one of the apps that the team is currently calling for (see above).

If the team is calling for multiple apps:

Nomad is best in terms of data price, app navigability, and ability to top up when they are near expiry; but eSims must be stayed on top of, as you cannot top them up once the data has completely run out. Go into the app settings and make sure your "data usage" notifcations are turned on.

Simly Middle East plans cannot be topped up; Simly Palestine ones can. Unlike with Nomad, data can be topped up once it has completely run out.

Holafly has the most expensive data, and top-ups don't seem to work.

Mogo has the worst user interface in my opinion. It is difficult or impossible to see plan activation and usage.

How much data should I purchase?

Mirna el-Helbawi has been told that large families may all rely on the same plan for data (by setting up a hotspot). Some recipients of eSim plans may also be using them to upload video.

For those reasons I would recommend getting the largest plan you can afford for plans which cannot be topped up: namely, Simly "Middle East" plans, and Holafly plans (they say you can top them up, but I haven't heard of anyone who has gotten it to work yet).

For all other plans, get a relatively small amount of data (1-3 GB, a 3-day plan, etc.), and top up the plan with more data once it is activated. Go into the app’s settings and make sure low-data notifications are on, because a 1-GB eSIM can expire very quickly.

Is there anything else I need to do?

Check back regularly to see if the plan has been activated. Once it's been activated, check once a day to see if data is still being used, and how close the eSim is to running out of data or to expiring; make sure your notifications are on.

If the eSim hasn't been activated after three weeks or so, reply to the original email that you sent to Gaza eSims containing the QR code for that plan.

If you purchased the eSim through an app which has a policy of starting the countdown to auto-expiry a certain amount of time after the purchase of the eSim, rather than only upon activation (Nomad does this), then also reply to your original e-mail once you're within a few days of this date. If you're within 12 hours of that date, contact customer service and ask for a credit (not a refund) and use it to purchase and send another eSim.

How can I tell if my plan has been activated? How do I top up a plan?

The Connecting Humanity team recommends keeping your eSims topped up once they have been activated.

See this guide on how to tell if your plan has been activated, how to top up plans, and (for Nomad) how to tell when the auto-expiry will start. Keep topping up the eSim for as long as the data usage keeps ticking up. This keeps a person or family connected for longer, without the Connecting Humanity team having to go through another process of installing a new eSim.

If the data usage hasn't changed in a week or so, allow the plan to expire and purchase another one.

What if I can't afford a larger plan, or don't have time or money to keep topping up an eSim?

I have set up a pool of funds out of which to buy and top up eSims, which you can contribute to by sending funds to my venmo (@gothhabiba), PayPal (paypal.me/Najia), or cash app ($NajiaK) (with note “esims” or similar). Check the notes of this post for updates on what I've purchased, which plans are active, and how much data they've used.

Crips for eSims for Gaza also has a donation pool to purchase eSims and top them up.

Gaza Online (run by alumni of Gaza Sky Geeks) accepts monetary donations to purchase eSims as needed.

What if my eSim has not been activated, even after I replied to my email?

Make sure that the QR code you sent was a clear screenshot, and not a photo of a screen; and that you didn’t install the eSim on your own phone by scanning the QR code or clicking “install automatically."

Possible reasons for an eSim not having been activated include: it was given to a journalist as a back-up in case the plan they had activated expired or ran out of data; there was an error during installation or activation and the eSim could no longer be used; the eSim was installed, but not activated, and then Israeli bombings destroyed the phone, or forced someone to leave it behind.

An eSim that was sent but couldn’t be used is still part of an important effort and learning curve. Errors in installation, for example, are happening less often than they were in the beginning of the project.

Why should I purchase an eSim? Is there any proof that they work?

Israel is imposing near-constant communications blackouts on Gaza. The majority of the news that you are seeing come from Gaza is coming from people who are connected via eSim.

eSims also connect people to news. People are able to videochat with their family for the first time in months, to learn that their family members are still alive, to see their newborn children for the first time, and more, thanks to eSims.

Some of this sharing of news saves lives, as people have been able to flee or avoid areas under bombardment, or learn that they are on evacuation lists.

Why are different plans called for at different times?

Different eSims work in different areas of the Gaza Strip (and Egypt, where many refugees currently are). The team tries to keep a stockpile of each type of sim on hand.

Is there anything else I can do to help?

There is an urgent need for more eSims. Print out these posters and place them on bulletin boards, in local businesses, on telephone poles, or wherever people are likely to see them. Print out these foldable brochures to inform people about the initiative and distribute them at protests, cafes and restaurants, &c. Also feel free to make your own brochures using the wording from this post.

The Connecting Humanity team is very busy connecting people to eSims and don't often have time to answer questions. Check a few of Mirna El Helbawi's most recent tweets and see if anyone has commented with any questions that you can answer with the information in this post.

#esims #esims for gaza #palestine #gaza #action

[userwoosan]

Im going crazy 😭

#me hoping this is just an accident bc the timing is so weird #this is like those situations when u send an email to ypur manager and you have to double check what u said #bc ur afraid u told ur manager to fuck off or smth even tho u literally didnt say that or even think that #but u still think u said it anyway #thatd how i feel about sending asks #jake.txt

[wasyago]

HI GUYS I MADE A PICREW!!!!!!!!!!!!

WOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

If you make something, please share! I'd love to see it!!!! Preferably via a reblog, but you can also send it in an ask or make your own post and tag me (Just know that i won't be reblogging or replying to those, sorry)

This was a huge project that took a lot of time and energy, and there's still so much stuff i want to add and change and perfect. I'm posting it now though, because otherwise i will never call it done. But! Expect future updates at some point!! (Not soon tho) And if i add something, i will absolutely post it here 👍

The picrew is also not beta tested! I tried my best to check for everything, but im sure there's still plenty of mistakes i missed. If you see any, please do let me know!

Enjoy :D

#my art #yago but better #picrew #how do i tag this help

[cleo-fox]

Overtime

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

Pairings: Loki x Female Reader

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re still doing it.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh, great, you’re both still here.”

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

Also not a great sign.

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

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

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

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

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

“I beg your pardon—” begins Loki.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

That at least earns you a hint of a smile.

*

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“We’re going out for dinner.”

*

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

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

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

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

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

“Please,” he says.

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

“Coffee would be great.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Technically.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Please,” he says.

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

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

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

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

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

“Liar,” you say promptly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re a terrible liar, you know.”

“It’s not a lie—”

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

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

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

“It does.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“‘The perfect choice for families.’”

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

“‘Reliability meets affordability.’”

“‘You can’t say no to that.’”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What’s that?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What are body shots?”

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

He’s teasing you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Come on, I’ll see you back home.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You raise an eyebrow. “Oh, we are?”

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

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

“Where are we going?”

“I know a place.”

*

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

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

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

“You do. It’s Mobius.”

“That can’t be right, we’re peers.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Darling. You have a TemPad.”

“Loki. Read the personnel manual.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

He frowns. “I’m not familiar.”

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

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

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

“Of course.”

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

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

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

You touch his hand. “This way.”

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

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

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

“What is it?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He scoffs. “I’m very fun.”

“Could’ve fooled me.”

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

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

“Thank you,” he says softly.

“For what?”

“For showing me that.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

*

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“There’s still so much left.”

“There’s still tomorrow.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh, that’s okay, I’ll just—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Thanks.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hey!” you shout in protest.

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

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

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

“This is ridiculous,” you say.

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

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

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

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

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

He grins. “Not a chance.”

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

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

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

“Yield,” he says.

You shake your head. “Never.”

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

“No.”

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

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

“Yield.”

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

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

“Yield.”

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

“No.”

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

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

“Yield,” he breathes against your lips.

“No,” you say.

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

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

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

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

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

“No,” you say.

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

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

“Cheater,” you say. 

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

You shiver. “Your prize?”

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

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

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

“You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

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

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

“You have not,” you say.

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

You nod. “Yes.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What is it, my love?”

“Touch me,” you breathe. “Please.”

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

“Beautiful,” he murmurs. 

You believe him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

For who?”

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

“You’re not,” you say.

“Some would disagree.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I am enjoying it the correct amount.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I need to be inside you,” he rasps.

“Yes,” you breathe.

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

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

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

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

He does.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

With two more thrusts of his hips, you unravel.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You whimper. “Loki—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

*

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You raise your eyebrows. “A confession?”

“A confession,” says Mobius.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Loki frowns. “What are you talking about?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What do you mean?”

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

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

“Wait,” you say, “you lied to us?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I know,” he whispers back.

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

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

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

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

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

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

He grins and tugs you through the time door.

-------

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

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

[winkwonkwankwenk]

Alastor Head-cannons (SFW & NSFW)

SFW

Listened to music a lot with his mother when he was a boy, and occasionally you'll catch him singing. He's still got the voice of an angel despite being a demon.

"Splendid!" "Old friend" His old dialect reminds you he grew up in the 20s- 1920s. You've tried teaching him modern slang but it just doesn't sound right coming from him. His eyebrows furrow when you laugh, "Was what I said funny? Do tell, I'd love a good laugh."

Still brushes his teeth and is intense when it comes to dental hygiene. Don't let the yellow fool you, it's just the new natural color. In general, he's very hygienic. He has a strict shower routine, skin care routine, don't even get him started on his hair routine. Condition, shampoo, rinse, condition again- the list goes on and on. You tried Spa Day with him once, it was more stressful than relaxing.

His hair is naturally curly but he straightens it for a "stronger" look. He thought if he kept his curls he'd be less intimidating, Charlie saw his hair wet once and wouldn't stop trying to pet him.

Will periodically check on Husk and when he can't will send Husk's favorite liquor. He's soulless, not heartless. He does tease Husk on occasion about his friendship with Angel, it's not every day he sees the cat so flustered.

Loves veal. You've walked in on him feasting on Elk and when you backed away he simply raised a brow. "Would you like to join me? There's more than enough to share." He didn't show it, but he was bummed when you politely declined.

Loner but loves company from those he's close with. When he's alone for too long he thinks a little too much on a past he can't erase. Times like this will make him force himself outside to stroll through hell. He's not an imp, he doesn't have to worry about being attacked. You on the other hand? Not so much. When you join him for strolls, he'll keep you beside him and away from the thrashed roads. "Stay close, I'd hate to see you hurt." You think he's oblivious to how buttery smooth his words are at times, little do you know he's been watching every change in your face from your flushed cheeks to your pursed lips. He smirks to himself, knowing he's caught you off guard.

Calls you annoying names when you're grumpy like "Sourpuss". When you glare at him he just flashes that annoying grin.

Owns a lot of other souls besides Husk's and will occasionally sneak up on them just to catch them off guard. He enjoys a good power trip, brings him back to the good ol' days. Kills just don't feel the same now, what a shame.

Not a fan of physical touch. Don't even touch his suit if you're a stranger. He's a bit more lenient with those he considers friends like Rosie and Charlie, and you- but you're a special case. Maybe it's because you asked before doing something as little as fix his bowtie. He didn't know his heart still had that kind of beat, he decided not to dwell on it. "I must be thinking too hard again, I should keep myself busy."

His ears and eyebrows express his actual emotions. He doesn't seem to notice it, but you've caught him writing with his ears down and brows in a U-shape. It's almost like he's pouting, but when you ask his face returns to that empty smile again. "Hm? Oh, yes I'm fine. Just sorting some script troubles for the next broadcast."

He's not used to accepting help, only giving it. When you cheerfully ask beg to help with scripting he can't find a proper way to say no, at least that's what he tells himself. You end up being more of a distraction and he has to push the broadcast back a few days. When you apologize he just smiles wider- you didn't think it could get any wider but it did. "Nothing to apologize for, my Dear. I enjoyed our time together."

Takes his deals seriously as most overlords do. You've witnessed brutal killings, the way his pupils morph when he's torturing a toy. He'll casually wave if he sees you watching. "Enjoy the show, Darling~"

Wakes up at the asscrack of dawn just to be awake. He also wakes everyone in the hotel up with his alarm- which is just a lord recording of himself singing some Jazz song he seems to adore. He won't apologize, but he'll have coffee prepared for everyone.

Doesn't like sweet coffee and is offended when he sips any, glaring at you like you've handed him a cup of shit. "Are you plotting? Why do you make this...Nevermind." He'll be grumpy the rest of the day, voice a low growl and smile a bit sinister.

Likes to Gamble, he's already in hell, what else is there to lose? He makes big bets, the biggest being a tooth from his precious smile. When you tried to warn him about the dealer helping the other player cheat he just winked at you. Before cards could even be shown, both were dead. "I've ruined another good suit" is all he says as if he hadn't just ripped the heads off of two demons.

He used to be dependent on his glasses when he was alive, he was uncomfortable without having them in hell which is why he has the monocle now. He doesn't need it, just makes him feel secure.

His radio voice lags sometimes and he'll simply refuse to talk until it's stable again. You're the only one allowed to taunt him about it without waking up surrounded by acid.

Lets you call him Al, and when Rosie asks him about it his smile closes into a strong squeeze of his lips. He hasn't escaped the teasing from her or anyone else in the Hotel who's noticed. If someone says anything while you're around, they better pray their deal comes with protection. "I suggest you keep your mouth closed." is the only warning given.

Likes strategy games so when you show him modern ones like battleship he's over the moon. He ends up with a board game collection thanks to you since you bring a new one over whenever you're invited to his broadcast station.

"Y/N, Darling, I have a bit of a favor to ask..." and you know you're about to go through hell- well, more of it. His favors always involve hunting someone attempting to break a deal, and most of the hunts are just you tagging along to watch him bloody his hands. At least he looks good in red.

He was quiet when he first met you, now that he's comfortable around you all he does is talk. Eventually he even picks up on your compliments and returns them and then- well, it just sort of happened.

Had no clue how to actually romance. He spent his life fulfilled from killing, not chasing love. After consulting Rosie and Charlie (mistake one, they both teased him shamelessly. It's not every day you see a flustered overlord). He tries pick-up lines but they always come out as jokes, and while your laugh is adorable he can't help but be annoyed. "Surely wooing a woman isn't this difficult, prehaps another method..."

Alastor's love language is gifts but not just materialistic ones. He knows what you like and he makes sure to get you it. You've opened your door to a bloody Alastor cheerfully holding a container of freshly-harvested organs, offering to cook them for you- his way of inviting you over for dinner. He's so excited you can't turn him down, and if you close your eyes you manage to convince yourself you're just eating chicken. He learns how to make your favorite dishes after seeing you forefeed yourself for his sake, and from then on makes them for you when you join him for dinner.

"Do not tell anyone about..." He doesn't know what to call the two of you, the traditional term felt a bit too intense. You know what he means, and although you don't understand it you agree. It's not that he's embarrassed, he knows you'll become a target if others find out too much. He also has a reputation to maintain. Unfortunately, the two of you are painfully obvious.

Adores holding you, especially when he's too busy to give you proper attention. You'll sit in his lap and watch him work, telling him when to take breaks. Sometimes the two of you will read together, his head on your shoulder and nodding when he wants you to turn the page.

Tried to figure out how to kiss you while smiling. You couldn't stop laughing so he gave up and stormed off to sulk. He was expecting you to just sneak up behind him but when you stood on your toes to kiss him, his smile faltered and his face flushed almost as red as his hair. "Y/N, get back here!"

NSFW (Most tame NSFW Head-cannon I've written because he's definetly slow to warm up)

Favorite petnames for you are Honey, Darling, and Sweetness. Sometimes he'll slip up and call you by a petname while around friends or in public. Unlike him, you can't mask your face with a smile and his falters when your friends stare.

He's clingy in public as if staying secret wasn't his idea. He keeps an arm around your waist, fingers intertwined with yours. If someone stares a little too long he'll strike a tentacle at them and they'll run off.

Speaking of the tentacles he seems to sprout, he likes to tease you with them. He'll lightly strike your legs when you're walking to get your attention just to turn away and do something else. He'll sneak up behind you and have a tentacle tilt your chin up so he can kiss you, then quickly leave. He's always in such a hurry, mostly to go peek into his chest and make sure his heart hasn't exploded.

His kisses get bolder as time passes, teeth grazing your lips hesitantly until you pull him closer. Soon he's comfortable enough to slip his tongue in, grip your hair, groan against your lips. These kisses turn into sloppy makeouts that leave your lips kiss swollen and slick between your legs. "We should get back to the group," he says it casually as he licks his lips.

You're needy, he knows, he can practically smell it- he just isn't sure what to do about it. This is something he definitely can't ask Rosie about, so he decides to observed you until he figures out. He didn't think you'd mind him being in your closet or under your bed, listening to you and your toys. You catch him once, face burning as you scramble to cover yourself. "Stay as you are, continue, please- I'm learning quite a bit."

You catch him attempting to file his nails down the next day but they seem to sprout back in seconds. He's irritated, you can tell by the antlers growing on his head. You tell him he could just use his tongue but he insists on doing it exactly how he saw you. You wither under him, hiding your face in a pillow. "You're quite tight, how am I supposed to fit anything when I can barely fit a finger, hm?" He teases, pecking your forehead. He does get curious and decides to have a small taste that leads to him eating you out, tongue buried inside you as he holds your hole open. It must feel good the way you're gripping his hair and antlers, trying to steady yourself as you rock against his face.

You didn't bring up going all the way, you wanted him to initiate it since you weren't sure what exactly his boundaries were. You expected him to bashfully confess his fantasies, instead you heard a knock on your door and then your body thudding against the mattress as he ravaged your mouth. He slams the door closed with a tentacle before ripping away clothes, eyes narrow and focused. His radio voice is gone, his raw desperation showing as he rams into you. "Dammit Darling, I tried to wait...but I've grown impatient. You don't mind, do you?" and when you shake your head no he knows he doesn't have to hold back. Wonderful.

He lets himself get pent up, refusing to let you touch him. At first you worry that you've done something wrong, but he pats your head and says "Y/N, I'll handle it myself." When you look at him with those eyes he can't hide his hunger, and he caves.

Rough? No, he's just passionate. He can't always say how he feels but he knows how to show it. Fingers intertwined with yours, tongues tangled as he stuffs you full. Part of why he lets himself get so pent up is because he loves how it feels releasing it all at once, the way you cry out and clench around him. He doesn't stop until he's fucked you silly, until his voice is static-less.

Rambles when he's close, from "Such a pretty thing, sucking me like this" to incoherent growls and grunts, he's vocal. When he's thrusting into you only his words are gentle, sweet praises like "Good, Good...you can take it~" echoing in your head as he holds it up by your hair.

He likes leaving bitemarks along your body but only where they can be seen. Good luck hiding the one on your wrist, and the one under your chin is exposed whenever you look up. Of course no one dares to mention it, but he gets a kick out of everyone knowing you're his- enemies and reputation be damned.

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