#and I have the PERFECT place to hang it up!!!

[biteyoubiteme]

am/pm

fem!reader x bangchan 

synopsis: you start your new job at a book cafe and start falling for your coworker. 

warnings: 🔞!!! friends to lovers ?, praise, nipple play, oral (f!rec) multiple orgasms (f!rec), protected and unprotected sex (be safe pls they tried), creampie, use of the name baby, she/her, brat!reader kinda, whiny chan, choking (m!rec), spitting, cum eating, alcohol use, slight overstim (f!rec), prob forgot some sorry

wc: 7.4k big oops lol kinda lost the plot

 an: breaking the norm from my regularly scheduled yeonkai post lol feedback is appreciated :)) not proof read sorry! [m.list]

you were nervous for your first day of work, worrying teeth leaving your lips red and sore. when you applied you thought it would be easy money, slow shifts where you could study at the register, the coffee shop attached giving you one free drink a shift. it was perfect but your anxiety was eating at you the entire walk to the bookstore. even the location was perfect, three minutes on your bike, a few more to walk. you didn’t even need to pick up new clothes, your usual attire fully excitable as long as you had your nametag visible. 

the store won't open for another hour but you need to come in early to go over the basics. Your boss told you that although he wasn't going to be there his best employee would show you the ropes. When you get to the building the door is locked and you have to knock on the glass to try and get someone's attention but you can't see anyone from where you are. When someone does notice you you're pacing the sidewalk picking at your nail polish. “so sorry about that i forgot you were coming in early today,” the accented voice mutters, the ding of the bell making you turn around. 

“It's okay,” you nod after a second. The man before you smiles, dimples and teeth on display, devastating enough to take someone out with a single glance. He holds the door open with his palm spread wide, still standing in the doorway so that when you pass you have to brush against his chest with your shoulder. 

“I'm Chan, I work at the cafe most days now but I was told you would be working the store register and stocking?” 

“Yes that's right,” you nod, taking in the small store, the dark hardwood floors creaking underfoot as you move further in. You had loved the store since your freshman year of college. The cafe at night was one of the only places that sold caffeine until late, the warm ambient lighting making it cozy. Even now with the morning light pouring in through the floor to ceiling glass windows, it was comforting, the smell of the freshly brewing pots of coffee waking you up. 

“Great, I worked that job for a while so I should be the best help with setting you up,” Chan pulls the door closed behind you, locking back up. He moves around you waving to follow after him to the back room. To get there we have to weave through the stands of books laid out on tables and stacked on shelves and you feel in over your head looking at all the inventory. “for the most part it's mostly register work. When we get a new release it goes out on the front tables and then the old ones get pushed back to the shelves. nothing too major. I'm sure once you get a hang of it you will be very bored,” 

“It's okay I brought homework,” you say, lifting your tote at your side. 

“ahh, good idea. and if you get bored of homework you could come mess with me at the cafe, I'm always trying to come up with new drinks although I've been told by the other baristas that I'm not very good at that,” he chuckles deep in his throat before turning a corner and pushing open another door. “break room and the cubbies for your stuff. I haven't had anything stolen but if you're worried the front has enough space under the counter for your bag or even if you want to have easy access to your books that's fine too,” he gestures at a desk in the corner, “you clock in and out there, I'm sure you were told how to set up your checks to be deposited?” 

“Yes,” you nod trying to pay attention to all the information. 

“Okay great so let's get your name tag I think it's…oh here! there you go,” he passes you the little magnetic tag for you to put on. you glance at his name tag, the koala sticker faded but still cute. “Then let's see the register and go over that before we open the store, it's a Monday so we are usually really slow so during your shift we can walk around and go over the sections but the computer will tell you where to find most any book here. there is also a map taped to the counter to help customers so you can see that to help you,” 

“got it, thank you,” you follow Chan out and the rest of the hour goes by with him cracking jokes and pointing out what shelves hold what books. When it was time for the doors to be unlocked it was anticlimactic because you only went back to having no one in the shop but the two of you. chan sitting on the stool behind his register for the cafe and you sitting on yours directly across the room. Chan had a book propped up to pass the time and you got started on your homework. your nerves are now officially gone with how calm it was going. 

Even when customers did come in, you breezed through it, Chan's watchful eye not prying but comforting enough to know he would swoop in and help if it was ever necessary. 

When another slow lull came and there were no customers Chan called across the short distance to ask you your coffee order, “I may be bad at coming up with new drinks but that doesn't mean I don't make mean drinks to begin with,” that dimpled smile hitting you right in the stomach. 

“surprise me I'm okay with anything when it's free,” 

“best perk about the job,” he agrees, turning to make you your drink. When he is done he brings it over to the register a small grin on his face as he passes the warm drink over. “go on try it,”

you take a sip humming your approval, “Oh wow that's really good,”  there was no lid on the paper cup to show off his latte art, the heart feathering out to where your lipstick stain hugs the rim. you wipe at the corner of your mouth catching the stray foam on your thumb and licking it off. 

chan is stuck watching your every move, all day he's been finding it hard to concentrate on anything he's doing. he was trying to play it cool even after your introduction, but he was caught the moment you turned around when he opened the door, your perfume making him want to lean in when you brushed past him. It didn't help that he was right across from you all day, the perfect seat for him to make sure you weren't struggling although that was an excuse because he knew how easy the job was he just wanted to watch you. 

Now you're basically moaning over something he made and he feels bad for having any thoughts about you. then you swipe at your lip, thumb in your mouth, how is he supposed to think about anything else? 

“cinnamon and apple?” you ask your gaze so attentive. 

“warm and cozy,” Chan smiles watching as you take another sip that hum caught right in the back of your throat and he wishes he could swallow the sound himself. but the jingling of the bell by the door jolts him back to reality. “let me get back,” 

“Thank you!” you call after him while the customers make their way through the shelves. Chan waves your words away,“Anytime,” 

later when both of your replacements come in for their shift Chan helps show you how to clock out and where you can find your schedule. “looks like we have morning shifts together,” he comments, “I'll have to give you my number so when you get to the door I can let you in,” it's an excuse really he could leave the door unlocked after he gets in, no one ever tries to come in that early anyways most of their customers come to study after class. 

“sure that works perfectly,” you smile unlocking your phone and passing it over, he does the same and you type your number in for him. 

“best barista?” you laugh when you see the name he plugged in. 

“Seungmin might not like that but who cares,” he chuckles, “best AM barista might be better,” 

you both walk out together and you notice you're headed in the same direction, “do you live over on Sixth?” 

“yeah, do you?” 

“the first apartment building on the corner,” 

“Me too!” The two of you were a few steps away from each other and Chan took the opportunity to catch up. “official walking buddies now? can't change fate,” 

“yeah okay,” you laugh, falling into step next to him. 

“The boss said you were in school, the campus right up the road?” 

“yeah, I have a lab at five actually,” 

“The shop is the perfect job for you then, my classes are also kinda late in the day so I get it,” he ruffled his hair and pushed back the strands from his forehead only to have them fall right back into place. The two of you make comfortable conversation until you make it to the lobby of your apartment building, Chan holding the door open for you before you press the elevator button. 

when you two make it into the elevator you ask him, “What floor?” as you press your own button. 

The space is small and he leans over to see the button panel, body heat, and his colleague filling the space. and you didn't mind it at all, he smelled like a mix of baked goods and sandalwood. “looks like we live on the same floor,” he chuckles, pulling back to stand straight. both of you are silent eyes trained ahead as you mutter, “Small world I guess,” 

“Very,” he nods, chewing on the corner of his bottom lip. When the elevator dings and opens you wave goodbye as you both move down the opposite halls. He was about three doors down and when he got his key in he looked up with a smile waving before walking in. When you close the door to your apartment you lean against the door letting out the longestsigh you could muster. of course, your hot coworker shares your schedule and lives right down the hall. of fucking course. 

-

The following morning you're tugging on your coat, pulling the door closed and your tote bag keeps sliding down your shoulder. You're muttering profanities quite enough as you try to get the key into the lock when you don't hear Chan approach. you flinch so hard you think your heart stopped. “You scared me!” and Chan's giggling reached out for your tote bag pulling it from the crook of your arm where it kept falling. 

“I'm sorry I thought you heard me say good morning,” he slings your bag over your shoulder as you finally lock the door.“I was running a bit late so I thought why not just wait anyways since we are headed to the same place?” he's a little shy as he says it following you to the elevator, “although I know that defeats the purpose of giving you my number but you know thought that counts and everything right?” he's rambling his grip on the tote bag strap turning white-knuckled, his free hands at the back of his neck messing with his hair. 

“That works perfectly with me and I can carry my own bag,” the elevator dings as you say it and Chan shakes his head stepping in before you holding his hand out so the doors stay open. 

“I don't know how you carry this thing around its like a bag of rocks it's so heavy,” 

“textbooks,” you correct, leaning over him to press the lobby button. “although you're right I should get a better bag to carry them around but that one is so cute,” you run your fingers over the design that made you buy the tote in the first place, “everything is worth the struggle as long as its cute,” 

“agreed,” Chan nods, watching your fingers run up and down the fabric, your nails painted the prettiest shade of blue and he has to swallow to push away his thoughts of you wrapping your hand around him. but the image won't fade so he shakes his head trying to think of all the things he needs to do to set up for the day. 

He holds the door open for you the same way he had your first day, letting you brush past him only this time he's following you to clock in watching your hips sway in your skirt all the way to the break room. and when the day starts to go by he tries not to look your way as you press your pen to your lips every once in a while jotting down notes in the margins on sticky notes. watching you smile up at customers and helping them. 

chan brings you a coffee halfway through your shift when it is slow, this time it is sweet with caramel, “oh wow definitely best AM barista material,” you nod licking the whipped cream from your top lip. he flushes a deep red chuckling, “its nothing,” but he was starting to realize he would learn any drink combo to hear that hum over and over again. 

and when you're walking home together you laugh at his dad jokes making his heart flutter, he already can't wait until tomorrow to see you. 

-

You've been working at the store for about a month, and your routine is always the same. Chan waits by the elevator for you to walk, he makes you a new drink halfway through your shift, walks you back and you do it all over the next day. you realize it's the best part of your day and when you have the day off you're stuck wondering what Chan's doing, if he's wondering the same thing about you. it's late on one of your off days when he texts you, do you smell that or is that just my side of the hallway? and you know exactly what he's talking about. 

someone was cooking dinner in their apartment and the savory smell was wafting through from under the door making you hungry. 

definitely smelling something good if that's what you're asking

I think it's the people in front of me. Would it be wrong to show up with a bowl and ask for some?

not if you ask really really nicely I'm sure they will cough some up 

no, I'm too shy if they reject me I won't be able to ever leave my place again 

I'll bring my own bowl they can't turn away both of us if we beg 

seriously tho are you hungry because I'm starving and Seungmin texted me the cafe specials menu 

You're sure Chan would be able to hear you squeal all the way in his apartment. It wasn't a full-on offer out but it was close enough and your fragile little heart was consumed with its crush on Chan. he had you kicking your feet like a school girl and you couldn't help but smile. 

The best PM barista does make a mean sandwich 

be ready in 5? 

if he didn't hear you before the whole floor definitely did now. you jumped up from your couch to get ready. Maybe it was nothing, just two friends, coworkers, even going out, to your place of work, for a casual dinner. only you could tell yourself that all you wanted but it didn't stop your excitement. sure you saw Chan nearly every day but not usually when you weren't already scheduled to see each other. only once when you were both crossing paths in the lobby and that didn't count because you were late to class and rushing and he was with a friend, but that didn't stop the butterflies you felt when he gave you a wave and smile as you passed. 

You were ready in five minutes pulling your door closed to find Chan leaning against the wall with his hands in his pockets, a dark jean jacket over a hoodie, his jeans fitting him just right. “ready?” he asked, pulling himself up to his full height. 

“yup,” it's a squeak as you say it, your cheeks colored in embarrassment. He was wearing a beanie with his ears peeking out from under the fabric. When you stepped outside you realized how cool it was outside, your thin sweater doing you no good. 

Chan holds the door open for you to lead the way, your arms crossed before you feel the heavy weight of his jean jacket slung on your shoulders. “You look a little cold there,” he smiles and you push your arms through the warm sleeves. it smells like him without the coffee scent usually following him after a shift. 

“thank you,” your fists wrapping around the oversized sleeves. 

When you make it to the cafe it's filled with light chatter, the golden glow from the lamps making the hardwood look shiny as you both stand in line for the cafe. your other coworkers behind the counters joking around as they make drinks and call out orders. You have gotten to know most of them when you have an occasional late shift but not as well as you got to know Chan. That was mainly because you two didn't have many customers in the morning time and you could talk even across the store without worrying about someone listening or scolding us. The night shifts were busy and most of the time a little loud. 

When you make it to the counter seungmin's warm smile greets you, “I know you,” he points but you can't miss the way his gaze falls to the jacket you're wearing and back to Chan his eyebrows raising but he doesn't ask. 

“We are here because I heard Chan's trying to come for your title of best barista,” 

“he can't make a coffee to save his life,” 

“Hey! I make excellent coffee,” 

“Because I taught you,” the smug smile on Seungmin's face made his cheeks round. “what can I get you two?” 

You both order reaching for your bag when you feel Chan's hand in the pocket of the jacket you are wearing. He is standing behind you, one hand on your arm and the other wrapped around to pull his wallet from where it's at your hip. “I got it,” he mumbles so close to your ear you almost shiver. “you can get it next time,” 

you give a slow nod trying to catch your breath before Seungmin asks, “Hey are you two coming out with us tomorrow night? they opened this new club downtown we wanted to go try,” 

“oh I don't know,” you shrug and Chan adds, “I'll go if you go,” he looks almost hopeful for you to say yes. 

“Well then sure why not? we can Uber there together,” 

“perfect i'll let the guys know,” Seungmin hands over the receipt with your order number, “should be out in a few,” 

“Thank you,” you and Chan say together, moving to the other side of the counter to wait for your things. When they come out Chan takes the tray and when you think he's going to turn to one of the empty tables he keeps going over to the bookstore side. you follow after him as he weaves his way to the break room. 

“kinda loud out there,” he says, setting the tray down on the little table they have set up. 

“Definitely different from how we usually see the store in the morning,” you agree, pulling out a chair to sit. The break room wasn't like most other breakrooms you had been to in other jobs. this one was set up like a cozy office, the building was old and well-kept enough to make every space look cozy. the lamp in the corner of the room giving the warm glow the others made in the cafe. you take a sip of your fruity drink not picking out a coffee this late when you didn't need the aid for an all-night study session. “now this is really good,” you say nodding down at your straw. 

“new menu item I haven't tried yet,” Chan sips his drink, an iced tea. “this one's good too, try it,” he slides his glass across the table toward you. 

Chan watches you take your sip from his drink, the hum he loves showing itself for the second time tonight. “good?” 

“Amazing, here try mine,” and so he does, nodding in approval. 

the two of you chat not even noticing how late it's getting by the time you're done and taking the tray back out to the cafe. most of the building is cleared of people, seungmin wiping down the counters when you leave. It's noticeably colder outside and you wrap your arms around yourself happy to have chan’s jacket for warmth or you would have had a cold the next morning for sure. Neither of you asked if this was in fact a real date or something between friends. you don't even notice that you have taken his jacket back to your apartment until you're changing for bed and realize you never took it off. 

-

The next morning when you leave for work you pass it back to Chan who smiles as he takes it back. “Thank you for that last night,” you say waving your hand as if you could cut through your embarrassment. Why was it that crushes made you feel like everything you did was so awkward? you were returning a jacket for crying out loud. It was totally normal, especially between friends but you couldn't help but blush. 

for the rest of the day, you two fall into your routine. Towards the end of your shift, a customer knocks over a display of books and you assure them you will pick them up once you're done checking them out, and it's no problem at all. Once they leave you bend to get the books picked up and Chan can't look away. you're wearing a skirt, the simple black panties you're wearing flashing him every once in a while as you reach over. He doesn't even notice he's overfilled the coffee cup in front of him until the coffee splashes down to his shoes. “oh fuck,” he mutters catching your attention as you restack the books. hes red from his cheeks to his ears as he wipes up the mess. but as he pushes the black rag around he can only think about you bending over, the fabric of your underwear hugging your skin dimpling the flesh of your ass. now he's over-wiping the counter thinking about it, so lost in thought he doesn't notice you come up to stand right at the till. “guess we both are having messy days,” your voice pulling him from his thoughts and he stammers over his words, “y-yeah messy,” 

but the word only fuels him, if anything was to be messy it needed to be you, he wanted too badly to make a mess of you. 

“I just saw the next shift workers walk in. Are you ready to head out?” 

“yes yes let me just put a lid on this, do you want anything to go?” 

“No, I'm good I don't need all that caffeine before heading out for drinks tonight,” Chan had forgotten about that but now he was thinking about what you were going to wear, about what it would be like going anywhere else besides work and the apartment building with you. 

When it's time to leave for drinks that night you text Chan you're ready and you book the Uber to come pick you two up.when you lock the door to your place and turn around to find Chan there you could have fallen to your knees at how downright edible he looked. those slouchy jeans showing a thin strip of the elastic to his underwear, the black tank hugging him in all the best places under his leather jacket. you wanted to hook your finger in the loop of his jeans and tug him to you and never let him go, link him to you like he was a keychain you couldn't remove easily. and his eyes were tracing up your bare legs, over the short ruffled shorts you wore, your own tank hugging you giving you the best cleavage. Chan's blush was so contradictory to his outfit and it made him so much cuter, eyes jumping to yours to not make it obvious that he was checking you out just as much as you were checking him out. “cars out front,” you say brushing past him. 

at the club, Chan could not stop watching you. 

you were sitting in the booth next to him and seungmin, lips around the straw of the drink in your hands, paying all your attention to Felix talking about a customer who gave him a hard time. 

“he just kept asking for a blue book over and over and I could not tell you how many blue books I pulled off the shelves for him,” your giggle was more intoxicating than anything in that room. 

“Did you find it?” 

“no! he walked out on me and to this day I question if he was just fucking with me or not,” 

The rest of the group was finally showing up and the booth was only so big. Chan rested his arm behind your head scooting until his leg was flush against yours so that the rest of them could fit comfortably. He hated how jealous he was feeling as you paid everyone more attention than he was getting. and when Hyunjin asked you to dance he could have ground his teeth to dust. “sure!” your drink is empty in front of you. 

you were in the middle of the booth and Hyunjin was on the end so he stood making room for the others to move but they didn't hear the request over the sound of the music. “Just jump over,” seungmin laughed but you followed his suggestion like it was the best idea, mostly because you were a little tipsy and needed to be out of the booth after being squashed in it for over an hour. you brought your knees up to your chest before putting your hands on Chan's shoulder to push yourself up to stand on the seat. As if you were a beacon all of them turned to watch you if they weren't listening before they would be now. Chan's hand reached out to your thigh to steady you, the warmth of his palm sinking right to your stomach. there were only two people besides you to jump over and both of them leaned back as Hyunjin reached his hands out to help you. you laughed as you jumped over, hyunjin's hands on your waist helping you most of the way but the second Chan's hand was gone you wanted it back. 

Hyunjin pulled you to the dance floor keeping you within the eye line of the table. the bodies of everyone pushing you and Hyunjin together until you were completely pressed with your back to his front. “Want to make Chan jealous?” his mouth pressed into your ear so that you could hear him over the music. 

“What?” hyunjin's hand slid over your waist right where your tank top met the top of your shorts. 

“We have a bet going that he won't last two songs until he's dragging you away from me,” Hyunjin guides your hips to grind against him and your eyes flicker to find Chan's gaze burning into you two. if looks could kill Hyunjin would be six feet deep. 

“he won't fall for it,” you shake your head but not for wanting to see if it actually would work. 

“want in? or do you not like him like that? because he sure as hell likes you like that I mean look at him,” and you do, the rim of his glass pressed to his bottom lip, eyes devouring you as Hyunjin's hand slips your tank up revealing a thin strip of skin. he's still with his arm slung over your empty seat, the rise and fall of his chest showing off his pecks. you raise one arm reaching behind you to tug on Hyunjin's hair and Chan follows the movement, jaw tight as he sets his glass down.  

“how much if he doesn't last one song?” 

“a lot more than if he doesn't last two,” Hyunjin chuckles and maybe it is the drinks talking but you nod, “Add me in, I'll Take that bet,” your free hand covers one of Hyunjin dragging it up your ribs as you let him guide your hips against his. 

it doesn't take long for Chan to leave the booth at all. 

Chan does not know what comes over him as he watches you with Hyunjin only that he needs to be the one touching you if anyone at all is to be doing any touching at all. Hyunjin lets you go with no question, slapping Chan on the back before making his way back to the booth. you honestly can't believe it worked as well as it did, the way that Chan didn't even last half a song let alone two. “I didn't know you felt that way about me,” your smile teases as Chan grabs your waist and pulls you into his chest as if he can erase the feeling of hyunjin on your skin. 

“Seriously? The heavy staring hasn't been enough because I thought my cover was blown the first day,” his smile is lazy, the drinks hitting him in just the right way. 

“first day? not just because your friends set you up?” 

“nope,” his hands slide down the curve of your ass until they are cupping you, tugging your body even closer to him, he's hard in his jeans, the bulge digging into your stomach. “they definitely didn't need to try hard at all, not when I want you this bad already,” 

your hands slide up his chest and round to the back of his neck, “Maybe I'm a little oblivious and I need you to tell me in great detail that you like me or I might not be privy to believing you at all,” the way that you're looking at each other is consuming, so much so that you don't realize him dipping closer until his nose is brushing against yours. eyes fluttering shut you tilt your head ready for his kiss when he stops right as they barely brush, “if you needed me to praise you all you needed to do was ask,” 

“Isn't that exactly what I was doing?” you nudge your nose against his trying to reach his lips as he pulls away grinning wide, dimples on display. 

“I guess you could say that,” one of his hands slid up your back to hold the base of your skull. 

“You're teasing me,” your pout made Chan want to kiss you even more. 

“I think they have another bet going that I can't last one song before dragging you out of here and I'm pretty sure once I get my mouth any closer to you they will be right and I'll lose out on $100,” Chan can feel you laugh against his chest, the rumble in your chest drawing him closer. 

“What makes you think I'm leaving with you?” You're taunting him now, fingers running through his hair as he squeezes your ass hard enough to make your pussy lips open. 

“We drove here together,” he states and you fuck with him a bit more, “but I heard Hyunjin has a car I can catch a ride in,” 

Chan can't stand the sound of anyone else's name coming out of your mouth when he's this hard when you're pressed so close to him. he finally kisses you, soft lips tasting like tangy alcohol. he wants to channel the last month into this kiss, every want and glance. he can hear his friends cheering from the table but he couldn't care less not when you're here. 

when you pull away you're breathless, “do you still win if I drag you out of here?” 

Chan can't form words before you pull him after you, your hand fisted into his top. his tongue pressed to his cheek, his grin so wide no one could miss it even if they tried. when you walk past the table you point at them, “You own me!”  

but they are all forgotten the second you're out in the cold air. you shiver, pulling out your phone to order an Uber and Chan slings his jacket over your shoulders just like the night before. The leather is warm and soft against your skin and he wraps his arms around your hands sliding past the jacket and wrapping around you. his bare arms rippling and you could bite him with how good he looks flexing right now. you don't even care that he could be getting cold when this is the view. 

Chan is all over you once you climb into the Uber, “safety first,” he mutters into your mouth before he pulls your seatbelt around you to buckle. You could laugh at how cautious he is but the seatbelt doesn't stop him from trying to pull you close enough to almost be in his lap, his mouth leaving open-mouthed kisses down your neck and to your chest. never in your life have you ever spoken in an Uber let alone almost strip in the backseat but if Chan had asked you would have. and when you're in the elevator you almost forget to press what floor you're trying to make it to, chan asks if you want to go to your place or his, and your response is you pulling his keys from his front pocket fingers brushing his straining cock making him whine in your ear. “Yours,�� you say into your kiss, pressing the keys to his chest before he's dragging you to his door fumbling with the key ring. 

Chan pushes his jacket from your shoulders once the door is closed and locked behind him. your hands jolt out to grab both his biceps and he stops in his tracks, “do we need to slow down?” the pure concern on his face is enough to make your knees weak, “we can stop if it's too much,” you will kindly choke on him for being so worried. 

“no, I want you to fuck me I just really wanted to see sturdy the handles ill be holding will be when you're in me,” your nails dig into his arms and he gives a soft whine. 

“You're so fucking perfect,” it's a groan into your mouth as he wraps himself back around you walking you backward towards the bedroom. he slaps the lights on before you make contact with the bed. he breaks the kiss letting you sit, the comforter soft against your bare legs. chan gets to his knees in front of you tugging off your boots, kissing the inside of your knee, and sending a bolt right to your center. “How many times do you think I can make you cum?” He asks pulling off your socks before kissing up your thigh. He runs his hands up your calves before grabbing the back of your knees and spreading your legs. 

“I don't know you might have to try really hard to get me there once,” he scoffs before nipping your inner thigh with his teeth, your knees instantly try to close but he shakes his head. 

“Maybe we start our own bet, I get you to come at least three times and then you owe me another date,” 

“Another one? could you remind me of the first time?” 

“I haven't fucked you hard enough to forget simple things yet baby,” he stands tugging his tank top off by pulling the back of the collar. your mouth is dry at the sight of him leaning back on your hands to take him in. Those jeans are low on his hips as he toes out of his shoes, “take your top off,” he nods, popping the button of his jeans. 

you follow your orders, you're braless, nipples already hard and aching for attention. “You listen so well,” he tugs the zipper of his jeans down but doesn't pull his pants down. Instead, he leans over you, kissing you down your neck until he makes it to your tits, sucking one nipple between his teeth and rolling the other one between his fingers. you open your legs to him, your shorts are too tight all of a sudden, too hot. lacing your fingers in his hair you throw your head back as he gives your nipple a tug with his teeth before switching to the neglected side. you moan rolling your hips into his clothed bulge and he sinks deeper into the cradle of your hips. “the prettiest girl making the prettiest sounds,” you whimper at his words knowing you are completely soaked. 

chan pulls away letting you lay out on the mattress before he hooks his fingers in your shorts and panties tugging them down your legs. he moans at the sight of you laid out before him, he tugs one of your legs to the side to reveal more of you to him, glistening under the lights. never has he been so excited to devour someone and that's just what he does, not waiting before his mouth is on you. he groans against your clit the vibration making your knees weak, “you taste as good as you look,” he wraps his arms under and around your thighs to spread you wide before diving back in. 

your hands twist in his duvet, your orgasm building faster than it ever has before. your back arching off the bed before you start riding his face so close to the edge that you don't expect his fingers until they are pressed right against the gummy spot inside you and you’re seeing spots as you cum. Chan is licking you clean as you ride out your high before he stands fingers in his mouth watching your legs twitch. “That was one,” a cocky grin present as he moves around to the nightstand to pull out a condom. 

you sit up on your elbows watching him strip, thick veiny cock hitting his stomach. He climbs up on the bed resting against the pillows and headboard before rolling the condom on. “if your legs still work I'd love it if you gave me a ride,”

“and if they don't?” you ask watching him spit into his hand before grabbing himself and tugging loosely. 

“I'll sit here and finish by myself but wouldn't it be so much fun to watch me disappearing into you?” you can feel yourself flutter at the thought. pulling yourself up and crawling up the bed to chan he grabs your hips to help steady yourself as you straddle him. you sink your hips down letting your wetness coat the condom, Chan's head is thrown back as he whines, “Please don't tease me,” his thumbs digging in hard enough to bruise your waist like a belt. 

“Whiny baby,” you coo, pressing a kiss over his pulse, the rapid beating so similar to your own as you reach down between you two to guide him to your entrance. Chan is gasping when you sink onto him, slowly inching down and rising every few strokes before you're finally stretched enough to sink fully seated on him. his tight stomach fluttering under your hands as you use him as leverage to rise again. you can feel him so deep he's kissing your womb, right in your throat.“god you're so fucking warm, just fucking right,” he moans half-lidded eyes watching where your bodies meet, you'regoing too slow for him and he flicks his hips up to watch himself disappear in the sweetest cunt he's ever had. 

“you're so big,” you whimper reaching for one of his hands to press into your pelvis, the added pressure makes your head fall forward in a moan, “you feel so good,” 

“Choke me please,” he moans head on the pillows as he plants his heels to get more leverage to thrust into you, “please,” the whimper he lets out nearly sends you over the edge. you use one of your hands to wrap around his throat, the vein pulsing under the tips of your fingers. “harder baby I can take it,” you nod at his words increasing the pressure you have on him, his eyes fluttering shut as he snaps his hips up into you. He keeps his hand pressed to your pelvis and he can feel each thrust meet the heel of his palm. your knees planted firmly against the mattress he lets go of your hip to press his thumb into your clit. you cry out as he keeps up his brutal pace rubbing your clit in circles and driving you over the edge. you can't even move as he pulls out not wanting to cum at the feel of you squeezing him just yet. your hand still around his neck as you come down from your high, breathing labored. 

“That was two,” he smirks when you sit up, twitching when your clit brushed his thigh. “onto three,” he wraps his arms around you flipping you over so that you're now laying where he had been. he pushes your legs up so that your shins are against his chest. he can't help himself, he's not even in you and he's trying to rut against your legs, his whines and moans sounding almost pained. “please I need to feel you, all of you,” he begs, “I promise ill pull out I just want to feel you,” his breathy pleas pressed right into your ear, hair sticking to your sweaty cheeks. You're holding onto his shoulders nodding without thinking twice because you need to feel him so bad. He reaches down to roll the condom back off not caring anymore about anything but being in you as deep as possible. As close as possible.  

you cry out when he sinks back in, so much warmer and thicker than before, every ridge in his cock fitting perfectly with you. your hands slip down to his biceps nails digging back in as you hold on as Chan snaps his hips forward moaning deep enough that you feel the rumble in his stomach pressed against your legs. 

chan is fucking you so hard the headboard is hitting the wall, he's pounding in over and over that your toes are curling. Then he sinks his hips finding a new angle until he's hitting your gummy spot, your head falls back and he presses his open mouth to your neck moaning against your skin the feeling singing all the way to your teeth. “I needed to feel you, I needed to feel that you're mine,” his words are choppy as he keeps up his pace. “you feel so fucking right,” he pulls back enough to push your legs a bit wider and he's back to his pace, your back arching into him. You're full of electricity, every nerve humming as he rocks back and forth. you can feel him twitch inside you and Chan knows he wouldn't be able to pull out even if he tried. 

he fully seats himself in you as he cums, thick hot ropes of it filling you up. his moan is so loud in your ear and the feeling of his release triggers your third orgasm, your cry half scream as you follow right after him. 

Chan's never cum so much in his life, his hips moving lazily as you flutter around his cock taking everything he has to offer. when he pulls out a trail of your mixed fluids follows, so much so that it makes a puddle on the duvet under you. Chan runs his finger through the cream rubbing it up your clit and back down to your entrance before he leans over and licks you clean. “Chan!” your knees are shaking, tears threatening to spill as he pulls himself back up pressing his mouth to yours and letting some of the cum he's collected spill onto your tongue. he kisses away the saltiness before pulling back, to gaze down on you, “that was three, looks like you owe me one more date,”

[44st4rs]

OH BABY, YOU SPOIL ME!

✫ ˚♡ ⋆｡ ❀—SYNOPSIS! Your new boy toy made himself at home with just the clothes on his back. When asked where all his stuff's gone, all Toji can do is point to the same clothes he appeared to you with. If he's gonna play the role, might as well spoil him too!

✫ ˚♡ ⋆｡ ❀—PAIRINGS! widow!fem!reader x toji fushiguro

✫ ˚♡ ⋆｡ ❀—CW! 10.3k words, pwp, dubcon, talks of death, use of an oc(s), semi-public sex, use of a mirror, brat taming (like yes!), teasing, couch sex, oral(m. receiving), fingering, c**tslapping, no protection, panty-stealing, it's just messy!

✫ ˚♡ ⋆｡ ❀—XOXO CHRIS! part two is here and dear god do i love it!

ONE NEW MESSAGE FROM: XXX-XXX-XXXX

PAYMENT: + ¥ 40,000

Forty thousand yen stare Toji back in his awe-struck face. His thumb's back to swiping again, refreshing the screen as if he's expecting the amount to disappear magically.

But they're not, the five bolded digits simply return each time he dismisses them.

So he blinks. His eyebrow arches, his eyes squint, and he blinks at his phone blankly until something like a smile crosses Toji's features. In a single night, Toji finds himself dancing in Lady Luck's palm. He's got a roof over his head, a nice gig, and a pretty lady at his side—and all he really asked for was a few bucks for food.

He wants to mull over the second thoughts that arise—what if it's just a dream? What if it's too good to be true?

But the numbers on his phone don't lie and the wafting heat of the skillet he's working over isn't a dream.

"She didn't even tell me what she wanted..." Toji mutters as he places his phone down on the granite countertop. He teases the browning edges of the omelette with the spatula he kept in hand.

He doesn't usually take people's requests to heart, but for you—something about you makes him hang up his old ways. It's not like you were kind about it, demanding breakfast right before dozing off in his arms.

When he woke up a few hours earlier, Toji faced your sleeping form. He remembers how he captured you under his fawning gaze. He drank in the shallow breaths flooding your lungs, the supple pout pushed out onto your lips, and the way you wore sleep perfectly.

He didn't know how he ended up cradling you in his arms, but for some reason, Toji was willing to ignore the thought in place of the reality before him. You got comfortable with him fast—or just the presence of having someone else in bed with you once again.

That's when he remembers the notion sweeping over to leave your side with a kiss. A tender peck right on the corner of your mouth to let you know someway and somehow that he wasn't going too far.

Even after hours have passed and daylight's entered the room, he still can't put together why he did that—but regret isn't one of those sentiments.

But now he's here, dressed in nothing but the jeans he came to you with cooking you that desired breakfast. Between each flip of the omlettes, Toji's eyes scan about your kitchen—gawking at how every countertop is a thick chiseled slab of red granite, gold accents for the handles of all the drawers, cabinets, and the refrigerator. A vast island stands right underneath yet another chandelier, catching the peeking rays of sun from the windows. Barstools outline the outer wall along the kitchen's rim, making it the perfect penthouse kitchen.

When he first stumbled into your kitchen, he could only stare. And he still is, but the shock ebbs away with each dish he turns his attention to.

He's ending his working shift with the final plate for breakfast, the small salad joining the ranks of miso soup, steamed rice and rolled omlettes. While Toji's hoping you eat it all, he can't help but entertain the thought of how trusting you are of him.

Maybe it's because of his background and the world he hails from, but to ask a stranger to cook breakfast? What if he's malicious enough to poison you and rob you right in front of your dying eyes? Nothing's stopping him either, but he has his reasons. And then again, he's the one who initiated the verbal contract out of thin air.

You two were made for each other.

The soft creaks of bed springs pull Toji out of his mind and his eyes down the hallway again, piquing his attention.

He's graced by the sight of you, clutching that damned robe as you saunter down the hallway. The lazy steps of your stroll lead you beneath the sun's rays, kissing your skin with its gentle glow.

"Good...morning..." he fumbles over, his blown hues fixed on you.

You catch Toji's gawking stare, a grin teetering on your lips.

"G'morning, Toji. Thank you for cooking," you hum, slipping into a barstool across from Toji's workstation.

"You look real pretty this morning, Princess," Toji purrs as a dopey smile grows across his lips.

"You keep calling me that...why?" you quiz, stretching your arms along the smooth countertop.

"Cause...you're basically living in a castle—hm, more like a tower. And it looks like a castle in here. Feel like Princess is the only thing that comes to mind whenever I look at you."

You lean into Toji's ardor, cradling your chin within your soft palm."That would make you my knight in shining armor, no?"

Toji snickers as he looks down, his hand coming to rub the hairs at the back of his neck. "No, I'm just some guy trying to make a living. Thanks for the honor though, I'll do my best."

Your eyes roam over Toji and the display of his bare chest. It's a broad canvas of muscle, stretched beneath skin, scars, and the ripples of veins. Maybe there's another plus in this little arrangement if you get to wake up to this view every morning. You shamelessly let yourself wander over him, tracing each crest of his abs and the faint streak of hair beneath his navel.

Until you find yourself clinging to a familiar sight.

"Toji," you begin, "Isn't it uncomfortable to wear jeans this early?"

"Eh, it's whatever. Don't got nothing else."

"Nothing else? What do you mean?"

Toji leans over the counter, his features softening as he closes the distance between you both. He could laugh at your naïveté, but he knows you understand him—he didn't stutter. But he'll give in just to watch your face fix itself into some new cute expression, shocked by the state you found him in.

"What you met me in is all I got. 'Cept for the extra brush I found in your bathroom. By the way, who keeps sex toys under the sink?"

A look of utter shock breaks across your face—your eyes shot apart and your jaw slack. "No wonder there was a new brush next to mine! You went through my stuff?!"

Again Toji feigns innocence, hands waving defensively. "Calm down! I like to keep clean. I didn't mean to but I didn't wanna wake you up when I have common sense. Took a shower, brushed my teeth, and now here we are."

"Toji...fine. But after we eat, we're going out."

"Where are we going?" He asks, reaching for two plates from the nearest cabinet.

"Ginza, we gotta get you some clothes, some shoes...eh, guess a little bit of everything."

"Ginza? Isn't there some malls 'round here we could go to instead?"

"Course there is, but I'm taking you to a place I know...personally."

"You're really spoiling me now. Turning into a sugar mommy—Oh! Should I just call you—"

"Keep talking and it's coming out of your paycheck."

Toji brings two plates with him as he settles into a stool beside you, placing the fragile dish in front of you. It's a collection of his labors–a small bowl of miso soup, rolled omelet slices, white rice, and a side salad made of tomato and cucumbers.

Toji shoots you one last smirk before turning into his own meal, "Hope you like it."

"Wow," you marvel, grinning at the colorful display, "I haven't eaten like this in a while."

"Huh? You've got all these ingredients and the space to cook. If you don't do that, then what do you eat?"

"Just some fruit, tea, some sandwiches. I rarely cook for myself these days, but it's getting better."

"Hm, is that right?"

Toji places an outstretched digit beneath the contours of your chin, tilting your head towards him. He's giving you a soft stare, his blue hues fanning over your stuffed cheeks.

"Don't worry about it. Way back when, I used to cook a lot, so I remember some recipes. But 'm not doing it alone, deal?"

You nod at Toji as he swipes along the plump curves of your visage, " 'Kay."

For a man you just hired, he's too kind to you. Since last night, he's been nothing but careful with you. He acts as if he's handling something so precious

"Toji, why are you so nice to me?" You ask between a bite of the fluffy steamed rice.

"Dunno," he shrugs, "This is the only way I know how to treat women. My last wives brought this side out of me. And as for you, it just feels natural. Why...want me to be an asshole to you?"

"No...it was just a thought," you mumble softly.

Then again, that's a passive answer Toji put together on the spot. How could he tell you about the sadness that lingers behind your eyes? It's not apparent to most, but there's a dark haze that blends itself into the color of the iris., dimming the soul's light beneath grief. Toji knows those eyes better than anyone else, especially when he himself dons the same look from time to time.

You cover it up behind a snarky attitude, but he knows that's not who you really are. Something tells him you're actually the complete opposite—a free-spirited soul who makes her own rules in life, a woman who leads with passion before anything else. Someone who opens up as they get comfortable, something he's noticing rather quickly.

And a woman just met one of the world's seven wonders too soon. He even said it to himself as he watched you snuggle up against his chest last night; for however long he ended up staying with you, he wanted to get to know you...the real you.

He can't stop thinking about it, how your bodies fell prey to one another within minutes last night. Your body fitting perfectly in his hands, responding to his every beck and call. Even now he's staring at your lips, swearing that just one more kiss could heal him from the inside out. That's not something he's experienced before, even with his tattered love history. A whim brought him to your doorstep and this whim is what's leading you both down some new path together.

So if he had to wake up to make breakfast, accompany you on some one-sided outings, and give in to your fancies to see the real you, he'd do it all.

With his last bite, Toji places his chopsticks onto his clear plate. He glances over to you, your plate mirroring his own.

"C'mon," he announces as he stands from his seat. " We gotta get going, right?" I'll clean up here, go shower. Oh and Princess?"

"Yeah?"

Toji catches your eye with a stern squint. "Don't. Take. Long. Twenty minutes. Two. Zero."

"Fine," you scoff, standing on the tile floor at last.

Toji watches as you walk off, your hips bearing a salacious sway with each step.

"Fucking minx," he mumbles to himself as he tends to the cleaning.

Twenty minutes later, Toji strolls over to the couch with a much-needed break on his mind. He grabs his shirt from the couch, slipping the gray top over his shoulder and down his chest before settling into the couch's plush chocolate leather.

He's back on his phone, scrolling endlessly through his emails and past texts to pass what seems to be an eternity. His eyes fall onto the time displayed on his screen: 11:24.

You're four minutes over the limit. Should he knock on the door? What if he finds you naked? Now that he thinks about it, that wouldn't bother him much, but his point still stands.

"Y/N! It's not twenty minutes anymore!" he shouts out.

"...Toji! I'm ready," you call out, breaking him out of his thoughts.

The soft clicks echoing along the floor breaks Toji from his train of thought. As he sits up, his eyes fall on you wearing a sage-green silk dress with a pair of strappy white heels. Your handbag matches your shoes, a detail that Toji finds himself appreciating with a mindless grin.

He stands to greet you, sheepishly slipping his hands into his pockets, "Wow, got me feeling a little underdressed now."

You meet Toji's gaze, arching an eyebrow at his words. "Well, don't. If you're gonna be living with me, we've gotta have you dressed the part. But I mean...if you want that. I'm not trying to force you or anything, I just have a feeling that you might want some options."

Toji joins your side, his hand eagerly resting along your lower back. He's wearing a dumb smirk on his face, watching you click the elevator doors open.

"Aww, trying to be considerate, aren't you?"

"Shut up. Let's get going."

Toji follows behind you, stepping into the small chamber. The scene of the living room closes out before him and he's left with you to muse over. You and that pretty outfit that he's obsessing over. His hand has yet to move from you, not that he has the intention to. He doesn't care if it's shameless or outright wrong, Toji just can't help but stare at you. It's barely been a full day and just your beauty has Toji willingly tied around your finger.

You could ask anything of him and he'd be ready to oblige. In truth, he's brimming with half the nerve to tug that dress up your waist and take you on right here and now. But that's too brash and he knows that. Instead, he's hoping you'll leave him something for the chase of imagination.

"Y/N? Look at me for a sec," Toji hums as his fingers tap against the fabric of your dress.

At Toji's demand, your eyes trace up to his own, the azure hues blown wide. The hand he keeps at your back takes on a new path, sinking along the contour of your hip. He's pulling you dangerously close, the fading scent of the cologne on his shirt filling your nose. You aren't even aware of how quickly you give into his advance, your hand sinking into the shielded profile of his chest.

"Give me a kiss."

"...No."

"Why not?"

"Because," you shrug, "I said so."

Toji's pout is a cute one. His bottom lip bears all the jutting weight, his eyes widen with each mindless blink, and the huff that breaks into the air almost makes you want to take back your cold response. It takes all of your strength from laughing at his ebbing resolve, your teeth biting down at the innards of your cheeks.

"Because...you said so?" Toji repeats as he points a finger towards you.

"Yup. 'Cause I said so."

The soft ding of the opening elevator doors pulls you and Toji from the growing heat of the conversation, revealing the building's lobby.

The softly dimmed space draws you and Toji out of the elevator. You've seen it a million times but it's a sight that claims you with ease. The lobby relies on the power of natural lighting, but with its ambient lighting, it's nothing short of welcoming. The polished cream walls wear tile and the green vines of outgrown plants. The only piece of furniture to exist on the waxy hardwood floor is the front desk, occupied by a certain someone.

"Oh, good morning, Y/N! Out for the day?" a voice greets, urging you and Toji to find the source.

The voice stems from the doorman, Daisuke. He's sixty-five, tall with a softened physique of muscle. Only a handful of wrinkles line his fair skin—the typical crow's feet and smile lines. His eyes are of a deep chocolate, but so soft on whoever they land on. His salt and pepper hair stops just shy of his ears, barely hiding his array of piercings.

Daisuke always works the day shift, with his younger counterpart claiming the night. From conversations you've had over the years, Daisuke was a delinquent back in his younger days but mellowed out once he settled down with his current wife.

You and Toji find yourselves journeying toward Daisuke, you both resting along the rim of the shiny wooden surface.

Daisuke sets his attention on you, smiling as he awaits a response.

"Yup! Going down to Emi's for the day!" your words paired with a grin.

"Good, Good...good..." Daisuke trails off. His sights fall over Toji, scanning every bit of Toji's face. Daisuke's sights fall over Toji, his brown hues narrowing down over Toji.

His disapproval is sketched out with a frown, his upper lip arched with disgust. Daisuke isn't one to hide his opinion, especially towards the man trying to court you. He simply stares at Toji until he's ready to speak, his tone honoring his distaste.

"Who might this be, Miss?"

"Oh! Um...this is Toji...he's uh—"

"An old friend," Toji quickly interrupts. "I'm always traveling for work and finally caught a long enough break to visit Y/N."

"E-Exactly! An old friend..." you nervously fumble out, attaching a weary smile to settle your case.

"Mhm...well, I'm not gonna stop you any longer. Have fun you two!" Daisuke sensing your unease. He waves goodbye to you and Toji as you both walk away towards the doors.

Your digits reach for the golden handle of the door, only for Toji to take the lead. With a heavy push, he opens the door for you to pass. But he's waiting for you to get close, so close that he's right behind you, pressing his chest flush against your back.

He leans in, the heat of his breath brushing past the shell of your ear. "Allow me...friend."

You peer back at Toji, rolling your eyes at his comment. "You called yourself my friend, don't get mad at me...friend."

"Fine, what were you going to call me then?"

The question plagues you into a moment of silence, an audible gasp escaping from your lips. All you can do is blink at him, your fluffy lashes batting themselves until you can finally utter something back to Toji's waiting ears.

"You...you talk too much. Let's just get down to Ginza, alright?"

"Yeah, alright," he sighs, walking beside you once more.

But there's some truth between the lines of Toji's sassy remarks.

Despite Toji's hand slipping into your own as you begin your trek, you can't bring yourself to deny him. His presence carries an ease that calms your heart. It's so calming that you can't begin to pinpoint what he is to you. A stranger? To an extent, but in time that title is going to fade away. If he's a friend, then he shouldn't be this kind with you. A lover, no, but the tendencies aren't so far off.

So....who is Toji Fushiguro to you?

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

A six-minute train ride and an additional ten-minute walk carry you and Toji face to face with a small building at the end of the block. To the unfamiliar eye, nothing about the store stands out. Not the white brick, not the pink awning, not the vintage door with a grand gold door knob.

And with an unfamiliar eye like the one Toji has, he's scanning over the building. You've brought him to a tailor but that's the opposite of what he needs. He quickly glances over his appearance, there wasn't a hole that he could spot but maybe you have better eyes than he did. He's confused but that doesn't stop him from opening the door for you.

"A tailor? My clothes don't need fixing, Princess," Toji notes as he reaches for the door handle.

"I know, Toji. We're getting you custom-made clothes, silly," you giggle, slipping past the opened door.

The soft scent of clean linen pulls you inside the quaint shop, Toji coming to stand by your side. Your eyes rave about the open floor, not a clothing rack, display table, or mannequin is in sight. Thick palettes of cloth hang from the wall, replacing the initial white-painted walls in splashes of color.

There's cotton, silk, wool, chiffon, and denim just from what you can name. A few doors line the right wall, and the kanji for fitting rooms are inscribed into the wood. Your eyes fall onto another door, placed alone and along the furthest wall of the shop labeled with a name that's too far to read.

Roaming steps lead you deeper inside, the presence of the service desk landing in view. Your curious gaze hinges on the figure of a woman. She's busied herself with something in a notebook, her pen furiously translating her thoughts. Long thick locks of gray shroud her face as she's bent over along the desk's surface, but with the smile stretching across your face, you knew who the woman was all too well.

"Ami!" you squeal, waltzing towards her with open arms.

Ami breaks away from her work to meet you, her cheeks pulled taunt by a full-bodied smile. As she steps away from the counter, you glance over Ami giddily. From the last time you visited her, she hasn't changed. She dons a veil of gray with grace these days, not a strand of her rich black hair left. She's still wearing that soft expression—her doe eyes wide and brown, her brows eased and plucked thin, her skin fair and gentle, and her lips wear a forever smile.

"Oh, my sweet Y/N!" Ami beams as she pulls you into her arms, the sleeves of her blue sweater pushing along your skin.

"You're glowing, my dear. And you're wearing the dress, it looks so—well, who might this be?" She cuts off, directing her sights to Toji.

You step back from Ami to join Toji's side, giving him a kind yet warning stare. You can't control what he's planning to say, but from what you've gathered so far, he's a blunt man. A blunt man who calls the situation exactly how he sees fit—without shame.

"Hi, I'm Toji," he waves. " Y/N here is my mistr—"

"Friend! He's going to say friend!" You blurt out, welcoming an awkward silence.

You don't have to look at Toji, the heat of a grim squint tells you everything you need to know. You're back to using that damned word, but what else fits? As much as you want to calm him, selling this story to someone as keen as Ami is taking all your focus and energy not to crack beneath the pressure.

Your heart's running on nervous fumes, an echoing pang clogging your ears. All you can do is suffer beneath Ami's careful observation, her big brown doe eyes thinning into a stern squint. She's standing there with her arms folded to her chest, darting her sights from you and Toji.

You're wearing a smile but it's a shaky one, the corners of your mouth quivering with each passing second. You don't know what sort of smile she sees and that's the fact that scares you. You can't tell if she's buying it, but she isn't prying at you for an honest reply.

"Well...it's nice to meet you, Toji! So, what can I do for my favorite customer?"

A sigh of relief pours from your chest, as you lean into Toji's hold, your head resting against his shoulder. His hand quickly laces around your waist, instantly ruining all of your hard work.

So much for being a friend.

"It's him, I wanna get him some custom clothing. Whatever he wants."

"Great! Then I'll leave the hard work to you! Do you mind measuring him?"

"Measure me? Isn't a large enough for me?" Toji asks, turning to you with knitted brows.

"Well, yes a large is enough for you, but it doesn't complement you. Here, I'll show you."

Taking his hand into your own, you lead Toji before a mirror, the glass pane slotted between two fitting room doors. In the reflection, you stand beside Toji with a hand skimming along the hull of his chest.

"Your proportions isn't something an average man has, which means that there's always gonna be spots where there's too much or too little fabric. Like here..."

The tips of your fingers pinch at the hem of Toji's gray thermal, tugging at the loose fabric surrounding his waist. "You've got a small waist but wide shoulders. This shirt looks decent on you, but it's literally just sitting on your body. Let's see if a top made with a bit more for your shape works better."

"Oh, I don't care about that," Toji begins, his stare falling onto you. "As long as I got something on my body. But since you're going out your way for me...I'll try anything once."

You give Toji a faint smirk "Really...anything?" His charm's enough to make any woman fall for him.

"Ami," you announce, avoiding the tension between you and an intrigued Toji. "We'll be in the fitting room. I'll be done with his measurements in a bit!"

You guide Toji to the lone door at the back of the shop, your hand reaching for the sliver handle–until Toji catches a particular detail.

"Huh...who's name is that on the door?"

"Oh, that's mine. It's a private fitting room made just for my late husband and I," your digits tracing the engraved characters.

"How'd you land that—"

"Oh, Toji!" Ami calls out before you both disappear into the room. "Do you have any fabric preferences? I wanna pick some out while I wait for the measurement."

"Nope, just use your judgment, ma'am," his words inducing a smile along Ami's features.

"Great! There's measuring tape in the room already. So go get measured and I'll pick out some colors and fabric for you!"

You give Ami a nod before sinking past the doorframe with Toji. The door opens up into a dimly lit circular room, welcoming you back with the soft scent of vanilla.

"Just how we left it..."you whisper to yourself, looking around the room.

It's not a huge room, but it's comfortable for two people. Panes of glass line the walls, looping around the curved walls. In the center of the room stands a toffee leather divan bolted to the ground, accompanied by a small glass table with magazines, a candle, and a roll of measuring tape.

"Wow...so this is all yours?" Toji still gawks as he strolls around the room. Everywhere he turns, his reflection is everywhere—along with your own. He's stuck on studying your agile steps to the small coffee table, taking the measuring tape in hand. You're twirling it in the palm of your hand as a smile crowds your visage.

"Yeah. Years back, my husband and I were in the neighborhood and came across this place. At the time we needed some clothes for an event coming up and Ami was willing to make them just for us. When we got the order and saw how nicely they fit us, we were sold. My husband and I invested in this place and had it renovated. As a gift, Ami wanted us to build a room just for us and that's exactly what we're standing in."

"So...long ago," you muse. The memory isn't that old but it feels like an eternity has passed since that fateful day. The room that was made as a gift was merely nothing more than a memoir of memories made with you and your late husband.

Until your drifting sights latch on to Toji. He's standing a few feet from you with his hands in his pockets. His head's fallen into a tilt, concern weaving into his features.

"Never mind that, it's in the past now. Ami also works with socialites, doctors, lawyers, governors, anyone really," you brush off swiftly, spinning around to face Toji.

"Mhm..." he mumbles. "So what do you need me to do?"

"Could you take your shirt off and stand in front of me? And just relax."

Your instructions are followed down to the letter, Toji presenting himself before you. He tugs his shirt over his head and tosses it onto the divan's cushion. He keeps his arms at his sides, waiting for your next instructions.

"Good...now just let me..." you mutter, pressing the white strip of leather to Toji's skin.

Silence falls over the room, but the tension between you and Toji grows with no bounds. You're gentle when you touch him, placing the marked leather along the curves of Toji's body—his broad shoulders, thick biceps, and sculpted forearms. You save his chest for last, carefully placing the measuring tape along the hull of his rippling pecs.

All Toji can do is watch you hard at work. He's picked up on a quirk of yours, how you bite your lip whenever you're focused. He's touched honestly with how much effort you're putting into him, all this effort put for him.

"I still need an answer, y'know." Your words pulling Toji from his thoughts.

"For?"

You roll the tape back into a small ball, finally setting your attention on Toji. You stare at him with kind eyes, letting your touch explain all he needs to know. The pads of your digits trace the burly hull of his chest, languidly following the rigid print of his faded scars.

"These. How'd you end up with 'em?"

A chuckle rings from his lungs, Toji's chest rippling beneath your wandering touch. He's looking at you, his stare flickering at every inch of your face. Underneath his dim lighting, he's intrigued by the glow behind your eyes. It's a blur of curiosity with the hues of tease. It's a deadly mix—the same deadly mix that rushes through Toji's veins every single day.

"Would you believe me if I said I'm not the best guy? I get into fights for a living and these are simply my reminders of what I do."

"That's fine."

You're...unfazed. He has to blink a few times to register it all—but you simply present him with the same look. He just told you he's no good. Maybe it's too subtle of a warning.

So...He tries again.

"And what if I said my hands are dirty? I'm a selfish man who only lives for himself and the money I make. What would you say about that?"

"That's fine, too."

"God, you're so—"

"Stupid? Crazy?" you interrupt. "If you wanted to hurt me, I gave you all the chances to...and I'm still here. Paint yourself to be the bad guy if you want, try to scare me away...but I don't care. We have a deal remember? And breaking a deal is just bad business."

A smirk cracks along Toji's lips, "Oh, 'm gonna like you."

"Come on, I need to measure you more. Take your pants off too," you huff, stepping back from Toji.

Toji's hand rustles with the metal clasp of his belt, yanking the leather strap loose around his hips, yanking his belt loose. His pants follow the same pattern, the unclasped button granting him the freedom of space. The denim falls from his waist, revealing a black pair of briefs sitting snugly around him.

"I thought you didn't have extra clothes," you ponder aloud as you drop to your knees.

"I always keep an extra pair of underwear."

"Is that right? Well, just stand still and we'll be done soon," your focus already shifting to the small red numbers lacing around his thighs.

And it's a simple task asked of him, but nothing's ever simple with Toji. He's doing his best to behave but innocence isn't and has never been his forte. He's struggling beneath a pesky heat that's running amok over his body because of you.

He's just too wary of how close you were to him. He's catching your hot breaths with the front of his briefs, bringing a flurry of twitches to strum through his cock. He has to stand there and ignore how your soft hands travel along his thighs, working so hard to get an accurate number.

Why oh why do you have to look so cute on your knees for him?

Toji's so drawn by his racing imagination, that he nearly misses your question.

"How do you like pants to fit?"

"Oh...some days tight. Some days loose."

"C'mon," you scoff, peering up at Toji. "I need a real answer."

All he can offer you is a coy smile, hiding all his intentions behind the gesture. "Sorry, Princess, I just can't focus right now. Ask me the question again."

"And...what are you doing that you can't focus?" your lips pushing out a pout.

"Don't do that—you know why. I mean, you look so pretty on your knees, doing all this work for me. Can't blame me for these thoughts, they just...come in, y'know?"

You shake your head, "Toji, focus. Let's be pro—"

"Don't shut me down like that. It's always been a fantasy of mine, a quickie in a fitting room."

Toji's hand breaks away from his side to tease you. His thick digits curl beneath your chin, tilting your head to bear the searing heat of his gaze.

"Can't tell me you haven't thought of it too, Princess."

A sigh breaks from your lungs as you drop the roll of measuring tape on the floor. Your hands are eager to be filled, stretched around something thick. It's no wonder that your digits choose Toji's thighs for the job.

He fits perfectly in your palm, but he's just so big that your two hands alone can't form a proper grip around him. Your only resort is to tease him, dragging your nails to paint his skin red.

"...And maybe I have. Doesn't mean I should give into it."

Your nails trail up his sides, down the developed curves of his abs, and slowly hang right under his navel. He's playing it off well, but the chills that lick Toji's nerves tell you all you need to know. Antipcipation's making him sensitive from this point on, a ploy that's set to work in your favor. You dress his skin with a single line, the faint flare of crimson mapping your path down to his pelvis.

"Toji?"

"Yeah, Princess?"

"So, it's fine for me to do such a dirty job now?"

Toji's thumb swipes along your bottom lip, "Shhh, just for today, it's okay. I know that greedy mouth wants to taste me."

Toji allows himself to fall into lust by settling into the comfort of the divan, the cushions dipping beneath his weight. He isn't wasting any time to have your pretty lips wrapped around his cock. He already went back on his word—and might as well follow through with his lustful agenda for the moment. He makes quick work of his briefs, tugging the black cotton down his legs. The concealed bulge of his breaks free from its stifling confines, his dribbling cock slapping against his stomach.

All you grant him is a grin of approval as you crawl between his legs, your hands surfacing atop his thighs. But that grin you wear so proudly fades away with the first peck you place along his tanned length. Your lips are met by the quivers of spry veins rising beneath Toji's skin, a testament to the growing pit in his tummy.

Your eyes don't dare to part from his, basking beneath the ravenous glare he's cast upon you. All Toji can do is watch—watch as your playful kisses paint his cock in the pinky hues of your lipgloss.

He's cracking right before you, his lungs barely grasping the thickening air. He's hard, painfully hard at that. All his thoughts rush straight to the crown of his cock, sending an aching headache to rile the swelling tip. He's falling back into the nasty habit of impatience thanks to the mess of pearly tears trailing down his girth, leaving you to catch every drop.

Your lips curve along the juicy tip, suckling at the thick vein that flushes out the underside of his cock. You're so gentle with him that he's flinching, his hips bucking into the air. He's whimpering at your tender display, but that's not all you're pulling from him. Creamy beads drip from Toji's slit, dyeing your skin in his shade of white.

"Mhm, stop teasing me, Princess. Making my cock all pretty with your kisses. Want me you cum just like too, don't—Shit!"

Your puckering pout stretches along the head of Toji's cock, pulling him into your mouth inch by inch. The hot, salty tears of his precum greet you first, the instant reminder flooding your dumbed brain. His essence is something to relish, that deep musk sinking past your senses. Just the taste of him stirs up your mind, prying at some hidden carnal urge.

You're hungry for him, that hidden urge turned into the sin of gluttony. You're hungry for every drop of him, to have his flavor simmer on your tongue for as long as possible.

That newfound urge of yours, your mouth eagerly swallows Toji down to the last inch, your nose cutting into the dark bushel of hairs. But he's so big that you can't keep this up forever. It's a last resort but all you can do is form a loose fist at the base of his cock, softly squeezing at his girth.

"Thaaaat's it, take it all down your throat," Toji cheers, his palm cupping your cheek gently.

It's such a dirty display that Toji can't help but stare—your lips split around his girth. You're leaving him to gawk stupidly at you. There's spit carelessly spilling from the corners of your mouth, whimpers singing from your housed throat and pretty tears staining your skin. You've barely started and you're already driving yourself into a mess on his behalf.

Just his type of woman—so shy, so reserved, but so fucking nasty that not even a picture would be enough proof.

As you find a cadence to strum along to, you suck your cheeks in around Toji. It's a gentle cocoon, wrapping his cock's wrapped in a heaven of velvety bliss. You even enlist your hand to help with your salacious endeavors, the balled fist dragging up and down Toji's sticky length. Now, you're really spoiling him, pitting him to bear the silky fat writhing around his plump cock.

He can't help it, lifting his hips to meet your worked mouth. His hands race to brace the back of your head, his palms smothered over your ears. With the brash snap of his hips, you've driven yourself numb to everything that wasn't Toji.

You've even become numb to your surroundings, nearly dismissing the soft knock on the room's door.

"Y/N! I'm gonna get started on some samples. What are the measurements, darling?"Ami's voice filtered through the stained air.

"Better hurry up 'nd tell her. Can't have poor Ami watching her favorite client make a mess of herself," Toji taunts, his hand coming to replace your grip over his cock.

"Oh, yes! His height is 188 cm, waist 72.6 cm, chest 110cm, upper arm 42.5 cm, wrist 19 cm, and collar 38cm! W-We'll come back for the pants another day!"

"Wonderful! I'll get right to work then!" Ami hums. Her shadow beneath the door's crack disappears, taking along that plunging throb in your tummy.

"Toji! That was too—"

The tip of Toji's cock taps at your lips, halting any words to fall from your busy mouth. "Shhhh, I can't wait any more! Finish what you started...or...should I?"

Before you can get a word out, Toji's stuffing his cock back into your mouth, selfishly launching himself back into that drunken bliss with a feverish drive.

With each buck of his hips, Toji's shamelessly engraving himself into you—every vein, every curve, every detail of him engrained to the inner plush of your cheeks. He's addicted to it—to you. Your mouth's just so warm, so soft, so tender. He's losing himself to you without the hope of ever pulling back.

"Oh, that's fuckin—Shiiiit, please....please, y're gonna make me cum!" He chokes out.

Through the budding mist of your lashes, you peer up at Toji, studying his battered form. His teeth are gritted, his fists balled up and with the curse of twitches riddling his cock tells you one thing—he's ready to cum. Toji tosses his head back, the devastation crashing through his body. You're bringing him so close to the edge, but it's teetering on a line he can't cross without you.

"Awww, you like this dick, filling up your pretty little mouth like that?"

A sloppy nod is all you can conjure as the tip of Toji's cock nudges at the back of your throat. His greed's bringing about tears to your eyes, fat tears rolling down your puffy cheeks.

He's chuckling at you for the moment until a crippling heat lays seize to his nursed cock. That pit in his stomach is meeting its limit, forcing Toji to sob out slurred curses of his timely demise.

"Fuck! 'm cumming, 'm cumm-"

Toji drags his twitching cock against your tongue for the last time, pulling away from your gaping mouth. His hand rushes to grip the base of his cock, squeezing every drop of him to rush to the mushroomed head. He smears the tip along your tongue, forcing the slick muscle to dip beneath its weight.

"There's your fucking mess, Princess. Don't waste a drop, 'kay?"

His scent swells within the caverns of your mouth, the thick ropes of white sputtering from the fat juicy crown. A grin spreads itself thin over your lips as Toji ruins your mouth with his scent, drinking down the forbidden fruits of your labor.

"Oh...fuuucck," the words mindlessly falling from Toji's broken lips.

It's such an honor for him, bearing witness to your puffy lips nuzzling along his twitching cock. He's made a real mess of himself but you're here, using that tongue of yours to melt away his sins from white to clear. And you do the job well, all evidence of his high sitting along your tongue.

He's got such a good girl on his hands.

"C'mere," Toji groans, his hands racing to your own. With his hands for balance, you quickly recover onto your feet. It's a team effort—you pull the dress over your head and he's busy with yanking your panties down your legs.

"Turn around–yup, come sit, I wanna show you something."

He drags you down to his level, seating you on his lap with his hands clipping to your hips. Toji's chest defines the arch that befalls your spine, his skin flush against you.

Toji cups at your jaw, his digits sinking into your cheeks. He's got your full, undivided attention, his hold directing your sights to your reflections.

You're dumbly gawking at the lewd display, your nude form melding into Toji's. You couldn't try to separate where your body begins and where his ends, that's just how close Toji kept you. You look so small in his hold, your hands desperately clinging to his biceps.

His presence is commandeering, even with you as the painting's main subject. Not to mention that just between your legs, his cock's hidden away behind the wall of your smothered thighs, hidden from sight but twitching with anticipation. It's just so...so—

"Spread your legs, Princess. 'M not done with you."

You're hesitant to oblige but your legs still creak apart, all the same, granting for Toji's hand to tend to your cunt.

The thick pads of Toji's digits nestle along the puffy lips of your pussy, spreading the sticky mess apart with a grin.

"Fuck, she's so pretty," he marvels at the reflection. He's lost in the picture your pussy paints in the mirror for him, his digits melding into the precious pink hues hidden between your folds. It's a sticky mess, but he couldn't care less. He's using such care with you as he traces the fragile curve of your folds, gawking at how your hips buck into his touch.

"Look Princess, god, your pussy's so cute. Wonder what'll happen if I do...this..."

His fingers sink past your folds, the delicate petals glued to his touch. He's rubbing out languid strips to ease those woes of yours, his digit slinking through the sticky channel of essence.

That same finger comes to tease your clit, nudging the glossy pearl spry beneath his touch. And you can't hide it, that sprawling heat growing between your legs. Your clit's overtaken by that heat, the nerves answering Toji's call.

Toji's too gentle for his own good, knowing exactly how to get a rise out of you. And he's winning, thanks to the thickening veil of your honey staining his lithe fingers.

"C'mon look, Princess," he urges, his eyes hinging over the lewd display. "It's too pretty for just me to see."

"N-No, Toji. It's too much!" you squirm, but the hold he has over your jaw doesn't budge not even an inch.

His lips press at the curve of your shoulder, his greedy tongue slipping past to lick a lazy trail along your skin as he takes to the shell of your ear.

"'Nd why's it too much for you, Baby? Too much to see how cute your pussy is? You just gotta, but...I guess I can tell you since you don't wanna see..."

"No, Toji, wait!—"

"Shhh, did you hear that?" His fingers gently drumming at your gasping slit. "Oh, you're so fucking wet."

"Mm, 'm not gonna look Toji."

"Why not?"

"I just don't want to! D-Do I have to look, it's feels so good—"

"You don't wanna look? Ha! real cute, Princess. Something a brat like you would...Wait!...don't tell me you're a brat, Mama...I like those."

"Mm, No, Toji. I can't—" you sob, screwing your eyes shut.

"So that's how it is?" Toji sneers. His voice carries a cold annoyance with you. You know he's planning something to combat your arrogance, something made just for you.

Toji's fingers fan across the sloppy mess of your folds, his thick digits landing a firm slap over the twitching bud of your clit.

Your breathy gasp falls on his ears, but without a care to be found, he's merely ignoring you. His stare turns cold as he scans your splayed rest against his chest. You aren't even making an attempt to free yourself with a response–just keeping your eyes screwed shut and your head whipped away from the mirror's grand reflection.

"Well...are you?" Toji pries sternly. " 'M not gonna stop til you say something. Not when I'm liking this cute lil' pussy."

And not a lie falls from Toji's barred tongue. The lewd crashes of his slicked fingers against your pitiful cunt rings around the room. He's playing with your clit as if he's forgotten that you could cum at any given moment, forgoing composure for the time being.

You're just so wet, dripping with the same essence that drives him near mad. He wants a taste so bad, his mouth watering at how your pussy squelches beneath his touch.

Yet all those wishes and desires bubbling at the forefront of Toji's mind didn't stop his fingers from finding the cute bulb, the weeping throbs melding into the tips of his punishing digits.

Your rambling sobs threaten to drown the sweet symphony, Toji simply grins. Your cries are nothing when his blows can carry just a little more weight. His hand winds back this time, cutting through the air to deliver a stinging jolt to trace through your hips.

"Fuck, Toji, okay, okay!" you whine at last, " 'M not a brat!"

Toji halts his wrist for the moment. Finally, you're giving up, another land of his slaps and he's sure you would've soaked his pants. He moves to soothe your throbbing clit with a rewarding slew of laggardly drawn circles.

"Then, tell me... what are you?"

"A...A...princess."

Toji grins as he presses a kiss along your puckering pout. "Good girl! That attitude isn't for you, too pretty for that. 'Nd I like hearing manners from that mouth of yours."

Toji groans as he pulls you further along his lap. His cock's nuzzled right between the curve of your ass and that spout of friction sends his dormant nerves buzzing yet again.

It doesn't help that he's been catching your slick from his lesson of discipline a thick stream of gloss dripping down his cock. Blood rushes to cram into every inch of his cock. Toji can't even try to hide it, not when his cock's growing so heavy that it's bearing that familiar upright curve again.

"Oh shit...'m getting–"

Your hand reaches down between your legs to lace around his girth, the pads of your digits drifting around the blushing tip.

Your hands are so soft that Toji's flinching, his hips jerking as your fist encircles the mushroomed tip. "Sorry, Dollface. Should've grabbed some condoms before coming here.

"I don't mind if we don't use one."

"A-Are you sure? Really, I can wait for when we–"

Toji's long-winded pleas fall short on your ears, your lithe hands swiftly aligning him with your hole.

"Toji," you coo.

"Yes?"

"Hurry up and fuck me already...please."

A part of Toji wishes you wouldn't use such a word—fucking. He isn't fucking you and hasn't been since last night. Not when he wants to see your cute expression, trying to guess how deep he's ended up. He isn't fucking you when he wants to hold you just like this, keeping your body wrapped up in his arms.

He's too interested in finding ways to ruin you just to be fucking you.

He hasn't found a word to describe what exactly he's doing the moment his cock sinks into you, but it surely isn't anywhere near something as heartless and crude as "fucking".

The head of his cock paints your slit in sloppy kisses before his girth robs you of composure. He's watching the swelled mounds of your folds split at his length, painting the throbbing veins in your essence. You feel so good around him, enveloping his cock in your heat.

But it's something he shouldn't even have the honor of bearing witness to, especially when you're back to hiding in the crook of his neck.

"C'mon, let's watch together," he purrs, cupping your jaw firmly once more within his broad digits. He's directing your sights to the pane of glass before you both, your flaring eyes gawking at the scene.

"We can see everything, baby. Get to finally see how greedy this pussy is too–fuck. Taking every inch of me...just...like...that."

He's back to stretching you again, his pudgy girth bullying your pussy to accept him. But his face tells you a different story, his skin flushed in bliss's shade of rouge. He's squirming beneath you, desperately trying to stop himself from getting ahead. He's filling your ear with rambles, mumbling off some mantra of being patient.

Toji's patience's warranted when he huffs out a groan, tossing his head back when he buries himself to the hilt at last. The hairs decorating the base of his cock brush against you as he grinds his hips against your ass, the bush of onyx tickling the bare skin of your cunt.

"See?" he groans breathlessly, "Did such a good job, Baby! N-Now, 'm gonna make this pussy all mine, jus' watch 'nd learn"

The languid drop of Toji's hips pulls you from his lips, a weak keen escaping your lips. He buys himself an inch or two before flooding your senses again, the thich crown of his cock pecking at your core.

Toji's noticing how you ease up each time he meets your sweet spot with a kiss.

He brings his hips to an angle when his hips drop this time. He's praying that the thick curve of his underside works in his favor to hit all your sweet spots in a single stride. His hands reach to cup at the back of your knees, pinning your limp body to his own.

"Ohmy–fuuuuck, Toji!"

The crashing barrage of waves his hips carry rip through your pert ass, trailing all the way to the underside of your thighs. Suddenly, he's reaching so much deeper than before, his eyes bearing witness to his cock stretching with ease. His excitement's getting the better of him, coaxing Toji to feed your poor cunt with relentless strides.

"That's it, Princess, take that fucking dick!"

Your lips unwind at his praise, his name rolling off your lolling tongue. In the heat of your bliss, you steal a glance at your silhouettes in the mirror, eyes falling right on the sinful fixture of where you and Toji meld. It's a dizzying sight to swallow, your hazy stare watching your own cunt swallow down Toji for every inch he has. It's so lewd but...so...so mesmerizing!

It's wrong but you can't look away from the swell of your lips splitting around the fat of his cock. It's like he belongs there with the way his hips snap riveting strokes to flush your pussy raw. He's pulling everything out of you, rousing the overwhelming swell of heat to rile your nerves.

He's harboring a resilient drive now, earning the badge of a thick white ring wrapped around the base of his cock. But he isn't working this hard for nothing. He's trying to drown out the facts of just how good you feel around him. Your fluttering walls coddling his shaft with pecks, the suckling heat gnawing at his ebbing resistance, the way you're peering at him with those eyes—those blown hues begging for just an inch of relief. You've got Toji's body running hot, thriving off nothing but carnal lust.

He knows you're close, but he wants to cum with you even more. He's more than aware of the fact that if he hits your core just one more time, that would be your undoing.

But you just can't cum yet...you can't.

Toji graces your visage with a kiss, pity souring his thoughts. You're ruined by him; tear-stained cheeks, spit-ridden lips, and the dumb rambles falling from your mouth prove his theory to be true.

"You wanna cum, don't you, Princess?"

"Y-Yes...p-please, Toji!" you sniffle, nodding frantically at his inquiry.

"T-Then cum with me!" he sobs, his forehead dipping into the crook of your neck.

Your bodies catch the seizing hold of anticipation, the promise of bliss breaking over you.

"Mmm, Tojiiii!" you hysterically bawl. It's selfish to seek out his aid but the pit in your tummy's too much for you alone to handle this time. It's a sweeping spasm, capturing your body whole. Hot white steaks lick across your skin as you arrive at your high. It takes every ounce of your being to sustain, your back bearing a harsh arch. Just as it came, your high quickly ebbs away from you, rendering you into a panting mess.

Toji does all he can to free himself from your silky walls, his hips dropping from your own. He's pitted his cock to relish the final moments alone before the compelling surge of white explodes from the fat head, your inner thigh lathered rich in his scent.

"Fuckfuckfuck, I c-can't stop—hnn!" Toji blubbers, his stomach caving in against your back. He tosses his head back along the divan's frame, writhing beneath the weight of his high pins upon him.

Your blurry vision falls onto Toji, basking in what his own orgasm had planned for him. He's gritting his teeth. You want to help him, but just as your own, this is something Toji has to bear on his own.

All you had for him was a kiss, your lips simmering at the corner of his mouth. It isn't even a minute before your kind gesture is returned by Toji's own kiss. It's soft, his lips barely sinking into yours. He lazily pulls away, wearing a weak smile to greet you.

"T-Thank you, Princess."

"C'mon, let's get out of here. I'm sure Ami is waiting out there," Toji croaks, pressing one last peck to your cheek.

You nod weakly, planting yourself on the plush carpet. Toji follows right behind you with his hand too fond of your lower back. He helps you first, slipping the sage dress down your body before tending to himself.

"Oh," he calls out, reaching for your panties. "You don't need this right?"

"And what are you going to do with them?"

Toji stuffs the lacy material into his back pocket, tugging away any evidence of his perverted ways.

"Told you I'm no good. I steal too."

"Go ahead...but it's just because I'm too tired to argue right now," you hint as you wait for him by the door.

You and Toji quickly slip past the private fitting room's door, walking into an empty lobby.

"Huh, guess we beat her—"

"Okay guys! I just finished the samples, sorry to keep you guys waiting. Come back next week and I'll have the full order of tops done. We can get his bottom done as well!" Ami announced.

You and Toji watch the woman with dumb, gaping eyes, right until she stands before you both. You sheepishly accept the bag in her hand, Toji reaching out to take it from you.

Guess luck is still on your side.

"Okay," you mutter slowly. I'm gonna use the bathroom. I'll be right back."

Toji offers you a nod, watching you disappear behind the service desk.

"Wow, it's so good to see her back to her old self," Ami shares, her comment piquing Toji's interest.

"Why? Oh! Because her husband passed right?"

"Yes, she's been so sad for the past four years. So seeing her out and about again brings me such ease."

"Wait, four years? Her husband died three years ago..."

"Yes, that's still right," Ami avows, "But he was diagnosed a year before his death. They tried so many treatments, and hospitals—all that money couldn't get him a reasonable recovery. Then, one day he simply called off all treatment and wanted to spend his final days at home with his wife. So even before his initial death, she was already filled with grief."

"Is that so..." Toji hums, his attention called back as you return to the sales floor.

"Okay, sorry about that. Ready to do Toji?"

"Yeah...thank you again, Ami," he waves at Ami, his quick steps bringing him to join your side.

"Bye Ami! See you next week!" you grin.

With the chime of the door's bell, you and Toji are transported back outside onto the streets of Ginza.

The sun's setting tendrils blaze through the orange sky, hues of purple, rose, and yellow casting themselves across the horizon. The buildings nearby bask beneath the gentle glow of dusk as night teases its way in.

"You wanna get on the train again?" Toji hums as he faces you. He's wearing that dumb look again, gawking at how your afterglow drinks in the day's final rays.

"No, it's nice out. Let's walk back home," you suggest, earning a nod from Toji.

You both begin on your trek home, slipping your hand into his.

He's too busy racking his brain to notice the gesture but he welcomes it all the more. You were vague with the details of your husband's death, but to know how much grief you've endured in recent years pulls at Toji's heartstrings.

He knows he's no replacement—hell, you're the one spoiling him. But he knows he can still give you something of his—his time and effort.

In the long run, his time and effort might not amount to much. But somehow and someway, he's hellbent on making his own mission to cheer you up. And no, you didn't ask for a savior, and he's far from being called on.

But call it compassion from the resident wanderer.

"Hey...Princess?"

"Yeah?"

"Can I call you my lady?"

You stop dead in your tracks, forcing Toji to come to his own stop.

"What?"

"How about I call you...my lady? It doesn't need to have any romance behind it and it kinda sums up what you are to me."

"And what are you to me? Not a friend since you get all pissy."

"I don't get pissy, thank you very much," Toji scoffs. He places himself in front of you, wanting to read your reactions as he urgently tries to explain himself.

"I mean, you hired me to be your boy toy. Now, I have no issue saying that, but I can see where that might not sound too pleasing to others. So...you're my lady...my mistress even. How does that sound?"

"I'll take lady, mistress is no better than boy toy."

"Great!" Toji smiles. You playfully roll your eyes, attempting to step away from Toji—but he isn't done with you yet.

No, how could he be?

His hand's swift to grace the dip of your back, pushing you flush against his chest. A mischievous grin curls onto his lips as he scours that bombshell look on your face. It's been a day and you still aren't used to his brash advances—something you know you'll adjust to in time.

But Toji's playing coy, blowing you a teasing kiss. He just has one more thing to say, and he hopes you're ready to agree.

"Can we kiss on it?"

TAGS <3

@champagnej @hannas16 @bludzk1llzyuzu @akiko0-0 @insideboburnham @shima707 @immindingmyownbusinessforachange @serenareiss @littlemochi @luvvvjada @tojitsukaisen @kaedeakeshisworld @caribbeanwifey19 @woahhajime @ebiharachan @po3ticb3auty @pixelsanji @omniuravity @sweeneyblue1 @yukihime-mikeys-girl @kazusugar @kenmasbimbo @10-jiku @a3trogirl @chaoticevilbakugo @sleepy3 @desiray562 @lovemegood @luvrdrop @yourmommy52726 @tojibreedingme @widepipepaladiknight @tojishugetiddies @taesd-urag @nekoriots @ladyackerman @ilaaishi @holychocopie @bloobrryktty @dabis0bitch @kensgff @23victoria @0fingerlickingood0 @savantsoulfinders @missyasma @kenryug @jkdaddy01 @dazaisfavgf @smucked @shuxjodie

[my-castles-crumbling]

Of Romance and Play Practice

@wolfstarbingo2024 - square: nerdy Remus - rating: G - no warnings - word count: 974 - based on @probs-reading's HC - AO3 link

To this day, Remus still couldn't figure out how they all were friends. They took up vastly different social circles. Like a smaller version of the Breakfast Club, he, Sirius, James, and Peter were as opposite as could be. James was the school basketball star, cheerleaders constantly hanging off his elbows (much to his boyfriend, Regulus's, disgust). Peter ran the yearbook, and was never seen without a notebook and a camera. Remus, of course, was the textbook definition of a nerd: he was the president of Chess Club, and took more AP classes than all of his friend combined. And Sirius....Sirius was perfect.

Sirius was the star of the theater program, having finally figured out how to put his dramatics to good use. He lived for the stage, and the audience ate him up no matter what his role. Of course, Remus ate him up, too. Or at least, he wanted to.

They'd all been friends since elementary school. Perhaps that was why they were able to stay close, no matter their differences. But Remus's crush on Sirius had developed quite recently, and for some reason, he couldn't shake it.

Perhaps it was the way Sirius oozed confidence. His smile was absolutely contagious and it made Remus literally weak at the knees, often times he had to sit down after Sirius grinned at him. Maybe it was the way he felt safe with Sirius. Though they loved to tease each other, Sirius never judged him when it mattered, and they'd been friends for so long, they knew each other as well as they knew themselves.

Of course, it helped that Sirius was fit as fuck.

But that wasn't it. It was...Remus couldn't help but feel warm when he looked at him. It was a bit disgusting, really.

But one night, when Sirius asked him to help run lines for the new play he was a part of, Remus agreed, because he wanted to help. He figured eventually, this crush would go away, so he should just continue spending time with Sirius like normal, acting like nothing was different. But when he read the name of the play, he froze.

"Erm...Romeo and Juliet?" he asked Sirius, who was sat on his bed, shucking his leather jacket and making himself comfortable.

"Mmm," he hummed noncommittally. "Good thing McKinnon's as flaming as I am, or I'd be dreading the kiss," he grinned, waggling his eyebrows.

And of course. Of course, Sirius needed him to practice running lines for the most romantic play in the fucking universe. What else?

"Alright," he murmured, sitting nervously on the edge of his own bed, as far from Sirius as possible. "Erm, what scene?"

"Let's start..." Sirius flipped through the script, stopping at a page and pointing. "There. I'm having trouble with the emotion, to be honest. If you could just read for McKinnon, that'd be amazing."

But Remus's stomach flipped as he looked over the script, recognizing the scene. The fucking balcony scene?

"Erm, alright," he nodded, trying to pull himself together. "How camest thou hither- er - tell me, and wherefore? Erm, the orchard walls are high and hard to climb, and the place death, considering who thou art, of any of my, erm, kinsmen find thee here," he recited disjointedly.

Sirius chuckled and responded fluidly, "With love's light wings did I o'erperch these walls. For stony limits cannot hold love out." His eyes were wide, genuine, and Remus became entranced as he listened. "And what love can do, that dares love attempt. Therefore thy kinsmen are no stop to me."

It took Remus a second to realize he was done. That it was his turn to respond. Because hearing Sirius speak of love like this, it was doing things to him. "Oh!" he nearly yelled as Sirius gave him an expectant look, jumping a bit. "Erm. If- if they to see thee, they will murder thee. Fuck, this is intense, huh?" he commented, scanning over the script.

Sirius laughed and ignored his comment, going on, "Alack, there lies more peril in thine eye than twenty of their swords. Look though but sweet, and I am proof against their enmity." He said those words with a small smile, eyes on Remus's.

"I...I would not for the world they saw thee here," Remus nearly-whispered, looking at the paper and back at Sirius, who was still watching him with a strange look in his eyes.

"I have night's clock to hide me from their eyes," he whispered, moving closer to Remus- and when had he gotten so close, they were side-by-side, now!- grabbing his hand lightly. "And, but thou love me, let them find me here. My life were better ended by their hate than death prorogued, wanting of thy love."

Remus swallowed, drowning in the look Sirius was giving him, squeezing his hand and allowing the heat and tension to wrap around their bodies. He wasn't imagining it, was he? Was Sirius feeling it, too? The way the very air was pulsating, urging him to move forward, to bring their lips together?

He hoped so.

"Sirius," he murmured, his head hazy, hardly bothering to look at the book, too distracted by the moment.

But Sirius seemed to be contemplating something. "Move not while my prayer's effect I take," he murmured, causing Remus to wrinkle his nose in confusion, before Sirius leaned forward, hand grazing over Remus's jaw and pulling their lips together.

And it was like fireworks. Hearing Sirius talk about love with the words of a poet had just made Remus's crush bloom into something more, and he couldn't resist grabbing for him, wrapping his arms around the other boy, pulling him closer until they were completely entangled in each other, their lips and teeth fighting for control of the best kiss Remus had ever had in his life.

[deathbecomesthem]

Farmers Market

Eddie Munson x Reader | 1.7k

Minors DNI - +18 ONLY

I dug it out of my docs. I'll never finish it. This is for you, @hellfirehottie420

There be some smutty stuff, but not the Full Monty.

He spent the night. It was all sweaty bodies and tangled limbs chasing pleasure until the wee hours. He didn’t just fall asleep and wake to the smell of coffee brewing, although he did do that certainly - this was planned. Not an accidental thing. He’s spending nights at your place with the intention of spending the following day together. The this is real feeling is starting to take form, and it’s as if he is wrapping your inside self in a warm hug while his strong arms wrap around your body.

It’s 9:30 on a Saturday, and you’re in your bathroom on the opposite side of your kitchen holding your coffee grinder. You need caffeine, and Eddie’s still sleeping, you just hope that the additional walls between you and him are enough to keep him from waking up. He can have at least another hour before you need to head to the farmer’s market. Need may be a strong word, but it’s how you feel about peak summer ripe tomatoes. They are a need, and he asked to join you. 

After holding your breath while the sound of coffee beans being sent through the blades, you snuck your way back to the kitchen and started a pot of coffee. It was pointless, the sneaking, because Eddie’s sleepy face poked through the bedroom door as the first drops of the brew began to form at the bottom of your Coffee Mate.

“Morning,” he rasps from deep in his chest. He staggers into the kitchen with only his black boxers hanging on his hips. “I could get used to waking up to the smell of coffee being made by a beautiful woman.” His arms are snaking around your waist while he bends his head down so his nose can breathe in your scent from the skin of your neck.

You both stand like this, swaying together and watching the pot fill, until he finally releases you and makes his way to the fridge. He’s pulling out creamer and soy milk to sit on the table between the mugs you already have set for the both of you. It was easy to fall into the rhythm this morning, and you think you could get used to it too, if he made this a habit.

The short walk from your apartment to the farmers market was pleasant, with your hand in Eddie’s. It made you feel like a girl, to be holding hands with the cute boy you’ve had a crush on for so long, and even in public. His thumb absentmindedly ran across the tops of your knuckles in a reassuring gesture as you both entered the crowds that surrounded each of the produce stands. You promised a quick trip, and it was, but Eddie had a need too. 

He let your hand fall from his, “Go get your tomatoes, I’ll you back here in 10.” He had a destination in mind, and made a beeline for a stand back at the front of the market while you headed to your favorite spot. A local farmer that has the best tomatoes, and the next couple of weeks are when they’re perfect. Only in the summer can you taste them exactly the way they’re meant to be tasted. This summer, they’ll taste even sweeter.

Your canvas bag is heavy on your shoulder by the time you leave the market. 10 garlic cloves, 10 big beefsteak tomatoes, and Eddie’s contribution - a quart of strawberries and local honey. 

“What are we making with these, hm?” You had asked when he presented you with the container of perfectly ripe and vibrant red berries.

“Oh, I thought we could just, ya know, eat them. Do we need to make something?” His teasing tone is hiding something, and your mind imagines a scene in your bed with a bowl of strawberries between you. Eddie’s fingers holding a berry to your mouth. You bite down, and red juice drips from your lips to your chin. His hot tongue lapping at the drops as they land on your chest.

“Uh, no, we don’t need to make anything.” You stutter out, hoping that Eddie can’t feel the way your body heat has risen at your imagining. You trip over a loose piece of sidewalk when you remember the bottle of honey he also picked up. Gooey, sticky, sweet. The thought of a finger with the deep amber liquid at his full lips. His tongue swiping across the pad of your finger while he sucks the sweet offering from your skin.

Your mind is simmering with thoughts when you get out your keys from the bottom of your bag. Your distraction makes you fumble. Before you can reach down to pick them up, Eddie is on his bended knee to retrieve them. He hands them back to you from that position on the ground, and your hand moves on its own accord to tuck a curl behind his ear. Like a cat, he pushes his cheek into your open palm. You run your thumb across his stubble covered skin in the same way he did across your knuckles earlier.

It’s a relief to enter the quiet apartment, it’s your place, and it’s just you and Eddie again. Hands can wander without the eyes of passersby seeing. 

“So. You wanna make yer tuhmatuh pie?” Eddie asks imitating your slight accent in a teasing way. Your attempt to smack his chest is a miss when he grabs your hand to pull you in for a kiss. You melt a little before remembering you’re supposed to be offended.

“It’s a galette, you bastard. And, yeah, that’s the plan. I’ve got the dough already in the fridge. Pull it out for me, and we’ll get started.” You tell him, falling easily into the role of kitchen supervisor. 

He’s more hindrance than help, leaning his chin against your shoulder while you slice the tomatoes and lay them on a cloth napkin. He sprinkles both sides of each slice while you unwrap the dough. He watches you work the dough and roll it out, flouring it as you go. He peels the garlic, the large cloves bulbs grown less than 2 miles from your apartment. This is something that no other partner has ever been willing to do with you. It’s a spiritual experience of sharing in food preparation, care and respect folded into the savory pastry you’ll share together.

Once the galette is finally assembled, and placed into the already warm oven, Eddie is standing with his hands on his hips. He looks impatient, his fingers are tapping against the leather of his handcuff belt.

“Baby, how long will this take to bake?” He asks, eyes on the oven door.

“A little under an hour.” You answer, watching his expression. 

“Ok, that’s enough time to get started,” he rushes over to your canvas bag and pulls out the package of strawberries and the bottle of honey before heading towards your bedroom. “Come on, Sweetheart, let’s start with dessert.”

It smells of garlic, strawberries, and honey in the apartment. The window air conditioning unit is doing its best to cool the humid and sticky air of the bedroom. You think that you’ll never be the same after this, that even a teaspoon of honey in a cup of tea will result in damp underwear for the rest of your life.

“Here, try this.” Eddie hooks his finger into the open jar sitting on the nightstand next to your bed and carefully brings it to your mouth. It’s sweet and sticky. It’s not like the honey you buy at the grocery store, this one tastes faintly the way the wildflowers smell. Your lips are wrapped tightly around his index finger while your tongue laves along the pad of his finger like a wave hitting the shore.

Eddie is unlike other boyfriends. There has never been a moment of self doubt or self consciousness when you’ve been with him. Not in those moments out in the world, hand in hand, while going on dates to a pizza shop and then ice cream stand. Not when in the intimate moments when his fingers and hands map your body. It’s the middle of the day, and bright streams of sunlight illuminate every corner of the room - and you’re still comfortable with his hands lifting your shirt over your head. His fingers unhook your bra. The sticky feel of the sweet substance spread across a nipple.

“Mmm,” his tongue travels from the valley of your breasts to the peak that is covered in the viscous liquid. In the same way your tongue moves against his fingertip, he moves his muscle back and forth. His lips are wrapped tightly around you, and you can feel his teeth softly scraping at the sweetness. Your whimpers are met with the sounds of his slurping mouth, as if he’s devouring the most satisfying meal he’s ever had in his entire life.

The kiss that follows is lazy. Wet and still sticky tongues tasting the sticky sweet honey that is still residing inside your mouths. Unhurried, a mixture of spit and honey swirls between you while you sit yourself on Eddie waiting lap. The movement of your hips begin to match the way your tongues are dancing together, water lapping gently, hips rocking together.

A discordant clamor sounds from the kitchen, breaking your bodies apart with a jolt. Through panting breaths, your mind makes sense of what it’s hearing, the egg timer sitting on top of your stove, and you hustle off the bed and into the kitchen to turn the galette. You’re not going to let it cook unevenly, even if that means breaking away from that steamy scene. You crank the dial for another 25 minutes of baking and head back to the room. Maybe the rest of the time can be spent with your lips together. You realize you’re walking around your apartment topless with all of the windows wide open when you return to your bedroom to find Eddie Munson, completely naked and spread out on your comforter. He looks completely comfortable, and there’s a Cheshire grin on his full lips. His cock is half hard, and resting against his stomach. 

“Hi Baby. I thought we could play a little game,” Eddie has one hand at a nipple, playing with it, and the other on the honey jar that he’s placing back on your nightstand. “I put some honey on a couple of places, you need to find it - with that pretty mouth of yours.” 

[helioswritings]

“Hey,” Hinata asks you one day, as you both sit on the bed in your dorm, “have you ever been kissed?”

The sudden question startles you, causing you to raise your eyebrows at him. “Huh? What brought this on?”

He shrugs. “Eh, Atsumu talks about kissing sometimes. I’ve never done it.”

“I haven’t either.” You tell him a little quietly. It’s always been a spot of insecurity with you, your lack of experience, especially since people say college is supposed to be the perfect place to experiment and have fun.

You haven’t done any of that, and the only person you hang out with regularly is Hinata, and he’s not too keen on partying either.

“Maybe we should.” Hinata says, a bit obviously.

You roll your eyes. “Yeah, okay Hinata. Let me know when you find someone, and then come back and set me up too.”

He nudges you playfully. “No, I mean maybe we should. You and I. Kiss.”

Feeling like you’re dreaming, you pinch yourself a bit, then turn to him with wide eyes when you don’t wake up. “You want to…kiss each other? Why?”

“Practice.” The tone in his voice indicates that it should’ve been obvious to you, but you’re still not convinced you haven’t been asleep or in a coma.

But on the other hand, he’s right. And practice is good, because it’s be embarrassing if you didn’t know how to kiss. No other reason.

You set your textbook down and turn your body towards Hinata. “Okay. You’re right. Lay one on me.”

“Me? Why don’t you do it?”

“It was your idea.”

“But I don’t know how!”

“Neither do I!”

It takes about ten minutes of bickering and researching on the internet for the two of you to figure out what to do. It makes you feel a little silly, looking up how to kiss, but Hinata is looking at you with a fierce determination in his eyes that only rivals the look he puts on when he’s playing volleyball.

“Okay, are you ready?”

He doesn’t really give a response, as it were, he just…kisses you. He’s not bad, if you were being honest, not that you have anything to compare it to.

The two of you kiss for what feels like ages and when you pull away, Hinata’s face is flushed.

“I think we need to do it again.” He tells you. And you agree.

***

It becomes a thing. The kissing. Every time Hinata is over, he always wants to kiss. And you don’t argue! You like it, you do. But it’s also been stirring up feelings in your chest.

You know you like Hinata, you’ve always liked Hinata. You’re of the opinion that someone would have to be an idiot to not like him. But the fact remains that you don’t know how much longer you can take all of the kissing without shaking him so hard his brain falls out of his ears.

Like now. You’re kissing and his hands are sitting very politely on your waist, occasionally twitching and causing you to laugh because it tickles. Your hands are on his cheeks. The swelling in your chest is almost painful.

You pull away from the kiss abruptly and Hinata frowns. “What’s wrong?”

“I understand for the first time. Maybe the second and third, too. But it’s been weeks since then, and we kiss almost every day.”

“I thought that’s what people who date do.” He tells you, a bit confused.

“What do you mean by that, Hinata?” You feel a bit dizzy.

“Aren’t we?”

“No! I don’t think so?”

You think back to every interaction you’ve had over the past few weeks, and more and more the pieces start clicking.

“Oh my god.”

Hinata hands you some water.

You take it, still a bit thrown. You’ve been dating him for ages.

“Can we kiss now?”

He’s lucky you don’t throw him out the window.

[kageyomomma]

little black dress - iwaizumi x reader

summary: inspired by this textpost

listen ik i said i was working on a kuroo piece but this idea came to me at literally 3am the night after i finished my rewatch of season 2 and i wrote it in my notes app while i was half asleep (& i did not proof it lol)

hope y'all don't hate it!

Friday afternoon always seemed to drag on at work. There was nothing left on your task list, so you had resorted to gossiping with your coworkers to pass the time. You had just let out a gasp at something one of them had said, when your phone lit up with a notification. The message was from your boyfriend, Hajime.

hajime <3:

Hey babe, do we have any plans tonight?

you:

not that i know of, did you have something in mind?

hajime <3:

Well, Oikawa just called me. Apparently he is in town for a few days and asked if we wanted to go out for drinks tonight.

you:

aw yeah that sounds fun! i always love getting to see tooru

hajime <3:

Alright, I'll try to find out the plan. See you at home beautiful.

You smiled at your phone and returned your attention to your coworkers.

"Everything okay over there?" One of them asked you, noticing that you had momentarily checked out of the conversation.

"Yeah that was my boyfriend, he said his old friend is in town and asked if we wanted to go out with him tonight."

"Ohhhhh!" Your other coworker exclaimed, "(Y/N) this is this perfect chance to wear that dress you showed us last week!"

You bit your finger nail as you recalled the little black dress that you impulsively bought last week. You had tried it on when it came in, and it looked fantastic on you, but it was also very short. Iwaizumi was not an overly controlling boyfriend, but you also wanted to respect him and your relationship. You smiled and nodded at your coworker, but did not say anything as you thought about the dress hanging in your closet.

After work you headed straight home, still feeling conflicted about your outfit for the evening. Iwaizumi was already home when you arrived. He greeted you with a hug and a kiss on the forehead.

"Oikawa said he would meet us at 8 o'clock at that nice place downtown, you know how boujee he is," Iwaizumi said with a huff of laughter.

"I better start getting ready then."

About an hour later you were standing in your closet in a towel staring at the racks of clothes. Your eyes kept drifting back to the black dress that your coworker mentioned earlier.

'Fuck it' you thought as you grabbed it and went to finish getting ready.

7:30 rolls around and you are looking in the mirror to make sure everything is in place. Your hair is sitting perfectly, framing your face with soft curls. The bold-ish make up look that you went with looked immaculate, and your red lipstick paired beautifully with the little black dress. Iwaizumi walked in as you were strapping on your heels.

"Babe are you ready to g-" he started, but stopped in his tracks as he saw you. "Wow, you look absolutely incredible."

You stood up and offered him a small smile, "Are you sure this dress isn't too much? I feel like this dress is too short, and it's kinda low cut, I don't want anyone to get the wrong idea."

Iwaizumi scoffed and flexed his arms, carefully examining each of his biceps. His attention turned back to you, and he grabbed your waist, pulling you into him. He leaned toward your face until his lips were only a breath away and said, "wear whatever you want babe, I can fight."

bonus:

When you and Iwaizumi arrived 15 minutes late to meet Oikawa, it didn't take long for him to notice the red lipstick peeking out from under the collar of his friends shirt.

[sacredthefran]

Cream & Sugar Pt 9

Pairing: Jake Kiszka + Female Reader

Warnings: Sugar Daddy, Some Drinking, Jake get's angry in this one, sexting and the use of the word pussy....alot. Let me know if I missed anything :) 18+ Minors DNI

Authors Notes: Here’s part 9 :) It’s a little bit on the short side. Buckle up!! Part 10 is going to be a looong one :) (if you guys still want it) Like always, let me know what you guys think! I can't thank you guys enough for all the patience you guys have given me :) also! Let me know it you guys would like to be tagged! Happy Birthday Nat!!

Word Count:7.9k

Previous Part

Masterlist

Bang. Bang. Bang. 

“Ms. Y/l/n! Please open up, we can’t be late.” 

You rolled your eyes as you heard Taylor pounding on your door. You knew that you were running late but, you couldn’t be bothered to care - yes, Jake had apologized to you after the two of you had left Agent Provocateur. Claiming that he was ‘Sorry for putting you in a situation like that’, ‘For making you feel like you had to do something with Tara’ and ‘Making you feel like you weren’t enough for me’. Blah.Blah.Blah. In your heart you wanted to believe every word he said; especially the last sentence, but you couldn’t. 

“Ms. Y/l/n, Please don’t make me call Mr. Kiskza.” Taylor dropped his voice to a low register as he spoke Jake’s name. Taylor was probably worried about your neighbors finding out you had ties to the man. 

Holding your left eyelid taught, you slowly dragged the felt tip of your liquid liner pen against your lid, praying to God that this wing would be even with the other one. Leaning back from the mirror, you smiled as they looked even and sharp enough to kill a man. Pushing the cap back down onto the pen, you took a final look in the mirror - the red dress hanged off your shoulders just right, the satin fabric hugging every inch of you just right before it hit the slit that sits right on the top of your thigh, if you sat a certain way everything would be out. At first you protested Jake when he told you that this was the perfect dress, but as usual, his word was the final say.

Taking a deep breath, you grabbed the small black Balenciaga Maxi Clutch, turning off the bathroom light and making your way to the front door. You stumbled a little bit in the Louboutins that Jake had bought you as well, not having the chance yet to break in the shows. 

“Relax, I’m right here.” You swung open the door, making Taylor jump in surprise. His green eyes widened as he took in what you were wearing, while the dress hugged every inch of your body perfectly, it also drew attention to your breast - they were naturally on the larger side but the satin fabric emphasized the size of them even more. Clearing your throat, Taylor audibly gulped before moving his line of vision back onto your face; turning bright red knowing that you caught him in the act. 

“It’s okay Taylor. Are you ready to go?” 

Instead of replying the man just gave a quick nod, jerking his head to the exit in your hallway. You weren’t sure if it was the nerves or the shoes but you were positive that you looked like a baby giraffe first learning how to walk. Taylor let out a variety of giggles when he realized that the two of you would have to take the stairs down to the car. 

“Ms. Y/l/n” You shot him an annoyed glance “Y/n, do you need a hand?”

“No, I think I've got it.” Placing your left foot down onto the top stair, your ankle started to wobble - looking up at Taylor with flushed cheeks. He smirked down at you before offering his forearm to you. “Thank you”. 

“Oh, Mr. Kiszka left you a gift in the backseat. I was given instructions to make sure that you put it on and to make sure that you wear it tonight.”.

“A gift?” 

“Yes. To quote Mr. Kiszka ‘She’ll love it’”. 

Before you knew it, the two of you had made it down the stairs and over to the black Cadillac Escalade. Beating Taylor to the door, you tossed a quick smile over your shoulder while scrunching your nose, yanking open the door to find a royal blue box labeled with silver letters spelling Swarovski. 

“That’s for me?” 

“Y/n, I can assure you that Mr. Kiszka wouldn’t buy me anything from Swarovski. It’s not my style.” Taylor winked at you in a teasing manner. 

Not being able to control yourself, you hurriedly climbed into the backseat, grabbing the royal blue box and setting it in your lap. Oh my God. Putting your fingertips on the lid, you paused - you couldn’t find it in yourself to open up the box. Your stomach started to turn as you think about the pricing of the contents that are currently sitting in your lap. You wouldn’t be able to afford anything from the store, hell you wouldn’t even be able to afford the box it came in, in your wildest dreams. 

“Go on.”

You were snapped out of your thoughts by Taylor calling out to you from the front seat. Taking a deep breath, you closed your eyes lifting up the lid. Keeping one eye squinted, you peeked down into the box and felt all the air leaving your body. Holy Fuck. Reaching down into the box with shaky hands, a gasp left your mouth when you pulled out the sparkling necklace. 

No fucking way. 

Not being able to form words; all you could do was shake your head - here you were holding a Matrix necklace. Holding it up into the air, the Matrix was sparkling as the light captured it in different spots, you couldn’t help but to stare in awe. You moved your hands around in different positions to get a good look at the jewelry. The Matrix is rhodium plated with white pear cut crystals - during your inspection of the necklace, tears were forming in your eyes. 

You didn’t want to believe it, but of course Jake would make sure to get you the necklace that you saw in the window of the ‘rich mall’. When he had spotted you staring at the window across the way for an extended amount of time, he wanted to take you in there, but you refused. You didn’t feel right wearing something this expensive on your neck, let alone having something like this in your neighborhood.  Snapping the necklace into place, your hand couldn’t seem to stay away from it - whether it was rubbing your hand up and down the pear cut diamonds aimlessly or if it was just clutching onto the front of it. 

Casually glancing at the clock, you could feel your breath catching in your throat just thinking about all the possibilities of how tonight could go. Of course you tried to play off everything as to Jake as if you ‘weren’t scared’ - Mr. Costello wasn’t one to be messed with - it shook you deep down to your core. Your eyes widened as you pulled up to the old Victorian style house. Taylor throwing the car into park and quietly exiting had you reaching for the door handle, pulling it towards you - there was no way in hell you were getting out of this car and going in there. 

Thank god for the windows being tinted. You could see the disappointed look on Taylor’s face as he tried to yank the car door open a couple of times. His  blue eyes snapping up to the sky for a brief second, taking a deep breath before focusing his attention onto the window in front of him - he can’t see you but his eyes stare right into the window that meets your gaze. 

“Y/n, you can’t back out now. We’re here.” 

“Yes I can. I can always just text Jake and say I got sick on the car ride over here.” 

“I think it’s too late for that.” Taylor spoke softly against the door. 

“And why is that?” 

“Jake’s standing on top of the stairs looking at me right now.” 

Your hand started losing its firm grip on the door handle as you took in the tone of his voice. It was almost as if he knew your strength was slowly fading due to the way he ripped open the car door. The look of shock on your face had to have been amusing - you were wide eyed and bushy tailed while your eyes raced over the stairs looking for your sugar daddy. Realizing that he was nowhere in sight, you returned your line of vision to Taylor, wishing that you were blessed with the gift of having laser beams shoot out of your eyeballs. 

“Don’t look at me like that. I had to get you to open the door somehow.” 

“Not. Fair.”  You gritted your teeth at him. 

“Come on now. You can’t wait out here forever.” 

“Yes I can.” Taylor shot you a pointed look, the both of you knowing that it was impossible for you to stay hidden from Jake. “Yeah, yeah. Help me out.” 

You sat still; blinking a couple of times before grabbing onto Taylor’s arm that he had stuck out for you like it was second nature. With your elbow hooked into his, the two of you made your way up the long staircase. With your free hand, you reached up and tucked a piece of your loosely curled hair behind your ear before eventually deciding to swoop all of your hair over onto your shoulder - feeling yourself getting hot while taking in the scenery of the Victorian estate. 

The outside of the house was adorned by a beautiful shade of sage green with a khaki trim around the windows and the railing for the staircase that led to a gray door. Jake had to feel your presence - the door swung open and you were met with the sight of him in an all black suit, silver Atocha coins hanging off a silver chain that drew the attention to his chest being on full display. 

“Taylor! I can take it from here.” He called out joyfully, walking towards the man who was helping to keep you up straight. “Thank you. I’ll text you when we’re ready to leave.” 

Jake grabbed both of your hands, intertwining your fingers together before giving them a gentle squeeze. You’ve come to learn quickly that Jake’s love language is physical touch, no matter where the two of you were at, he always had to have some part of his body touching yours - whether it’s his foot underneath the table reaching across to play footsies with you or if it’s his pinky finger gently tracing up and down your arm, causing goosebumps to break out across your skin. 

“Hi Jake.” 

A tiny squeal left your mouth when he dropped your hands in a flash, wrapping his arms around your waist, pulling you in tight against him. His head tilted down so he could press his nose against yours. 

“Hi baby.” A wide grin breaking out onto his face. “I missed you.”

“You just saw me yes-” 

You stopped speaking when you noticed the grin that was once on his face leaving. Oh..he’s trying to be romantic. You noticed that ever since the picnic date in Greenville, Jake has generally been more softer with you. He was trying to change the way he would talk to you - it was almost like he was trying to show you that he could be more of an addition into your life besides your sugar daddy. As much as you wanted to deny it - a tiny place in your heart for him was starting to come larger day by day. 

But, there was always one thing holding you back; his ego and possessiveness. 

“Are you planning on killing me tonight?” You tilted your head back, looking  at Jake with squinted eyes. 

“No..I’m not done playing with you yet.” The long haired man winks at you - interlocking a hand with yours once again, turning around to lead you towards the door. 

“Are you that nervous?” He casts a glance in your direction over his shoulder. Feeling yourself blush, you shook your head quickly at him. 

“I’m not nervous.”

“Sure, whatever you say.” 

You could practically hear Jake rolling his eyes at you while he opened the door for you. With a quick jerk of his head he motioned for you to enter first.The entryway leading into the house was dimly lit, picture frames decorating both sides of the walls, there was one common denominator in each photo you saw - a woman with pale doll like skin, jet black hair to contrast, stunning green eyes that would draw anyone in. 

“That’s Valeria. She’s Antonio’s wife.” Jake’s raspy voice called out from beside you, his lower hand resting along your back, pushing you gently through the walkway - he could tell that you were stalling.

“Antonio?” Your eyebrows furrowed, trying to figure out why that name sounded so familiar.

“Antonio Costello?” Jake raised both of his eyebrows up almost as if he was questioning what state of mind you were in.

“Oh! Yeah I knew that. I’ve only been studying his family's criminal rap sheets for years.” You replied to him in a sarcastic tone, making sure to roll your eyes to let Jake know that you were joking, but instead of being met with a chuckle that you were familiar with, you were met by him jerking you to face him. His brown eyes turning darker by the second with anger. 

“I need you to take in every single word I’m about to say.” Jake barked at you through gritted teeth. “You do not mention anything that you may know about the Costello’s. Everyone here tonight knows that you are practicing law, I told them that you don’t give a fuck about what they may or may not do. If you make one off handed sly remark about anything, they can make your career disappear or they can make you disappear. Understand?” 

Your cheeks filled with heat while Jake was talking to you - you knew that you could possibly be walking into a dangerous situation tonight, thanks to your anxiety, the reality of the situation didn’t set in until this moment. Not being able to let the words of reassurance leave your mouth, you gave the man a quick nod. That seemed to make him angry based on the way he closed his eyes for a second and swallowed the lump in his throat that was rising. 

“Y/n…I said, do you understand?” His eyes snapping open, staring at you with an intensity you’ve never seen before. 

“Yes. I- I understand.” You rushed out, not liking the look that he was giving you in this current state. This must be the exact look Beth has warned you about a million times before. 

“Good. Shall we?” He doesn’t wait for you to respond, instead he places his hands on your shoulder, turning you so you are facing forward again, beckoning for you to start moving again. 

“You know I was being sarcastic right? I was just trying to make light of the situation.” You couldn’t find it in yourself to look at him, that familiar feeling of uncertainty he’s fought so hard to get rid of in your head, quickly finding its way back. 

“I know. I just don’t think that this is a situation you can make light of. They can be dangerous Y/n.” 

Instead of replying you reached your hand out for his, your soft fingertips seeking out his rough ones - if you didn’t know better, you could’ve sworn that a small blush was taking over Jake’s features. The possibility of even making the man beside you feel flustered had your heart swooning. The two of you secured your hands together, fingers interlocking with each other; his pinky tracing up and down yours, feeling the indent on the tip of your finger from where you permanently hold your phone. Unbeknownst to you, that was one of your features that Jake favorited this most - it was something weird and unique that only you had, it oddly brought him comfort. 

“Is this the part where you leave me all alone so you can have a ‘meeting’ with your friends?” You nudge his shoulder with yours, hoping that you could ease the tension that is prominent in the air. 

Looking over at the brown haired man you found him already looking at you, his tongue poking out and wetting his lower lip as a giggle escaped his mouth. Phew. “No” a smile as wide as the Cheshire cat broke out on his face when he caught your eyes zeroed in on his lower lip “that’s why I had you come at a later time. I didn’t want you to have to sit with the wives while I was attending to business.” 

“Oh..” You couldn’t help but to question why he had kept you hidden away from the other women, is he embarrassed of me? 

“It’s nothing like that. Get that thought out of your head.”  Jake rolled his eyes at you - seemingly to already know where your mind had taken you. “They tend to ask a lot of questions. Valeria’s minion Sarah can be relentless about new additions. I don’t want them to torture you too much, that’s my job.” 

You mentally said a prayer; thanking Rihanna for creating a full coverage foundation. If not, Jake would’ve seen how red your cheeks were turning by the second as you thought about all the ways he could torture you. A deep tension growing in your stomach, slowly traveling south to where your body always craved him the most. Looking up at the mini chandeliers that were strategically placed on the ceiling, blinking fast - trying to stop the impure thoughts from clouding your mind and putting them back into the compartment of your they rightfully resided in. 

“You ready?” Jake squeezed your hand, trying to get a gauge on how you felt at the moment. When you didn’t squeeze his hand back, he furrowed his brows in worry, wrapping an arm around your lower back to pull you closer to him, placing a hand under your chin, tilting your head up so you had no choice but to look at him. “Hey, where’d you go?” 

Now it was your turn to match his facial expression ; furrowed eyebrows and tilting your head to the side at a small angle, staring deeply into his coffee iris’s trying to find the words to say. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You do know.” Jake pressed the issue further, tightening his grip on your chin. “Where’d you go in that little mind of yours?” 

“Little?” 

“Y/n, stop stalling. Answer. The. Question.” 

His eyes were slowly turning black as the seconds passed - not feeling it in you to keep the intense eye contact, you shifted your vision to the left and then to the right. Trying to find something behind him to stare at. 

“Well..” you paused briefly when you heard a huff coming from the man in front of you. “You said something about torturing..my mind obviously went somewhere it wasn’t supposed to and then I don’t know. The walls just started caving in, it just, I don’t know Jake. It just-” 

“Woah, baby. Breathe. C’mon, look at me.” A calloused hand reached up and tapped your cheek, pulling your attention back to him. When he noticed he had your full attention, Jake filled his cheeks up with air and then slowly exhaled, repeating the action several times until you finally did the same. 

“It’s just….this is a big deal right?” 

“What do you mean?”  Jake squinted his eyes and tilted his head to the side. 

“This.” You took a step back, out of his embrace to flail your arms around - gesturing to the hallway you were currently in. “This whole situation Jake. Has anyone else ever came here?” 

“Of course, Danny comes here with me.” A light chuckle left his mouth but stopped when he noticed your wide eyes turning into narrow slits.

“You want the truth?” He paused briefly to watch your head nod softly ‘yes’. “Promise not to run away?” 

“Jake.” 

“Okay okay. No, you’re the first person I’ve brought with me. My first date if you want to call it that. I’ve never had anyone that I felt comfortable enough to let them into this side of my life.” 

“Really?” 

“Cross my heart and hope to die.” 

It was as if everything in that hallway disappeared - the only thing that mattered in that moment was the long haired man standing in front of you with a sheepish smile and you. If you knew any better; it looked like he was scared that he admitted that, scared that sentence had found its way out of his mouth. Thank God for gravity. You could’ve sworn that your feet were going to lift off the ground and you were about to soar through the ceiling. 

No, it can’t be….it just can’t. The air knocked out of your lungs at this new feeling. It was like the two of you were in sync as both of your hands reached up to brush a single strand of hair that kept falling into your line of vision on the right side of your face. Jake’s hand beat you there, a faint brush of his fingertips against the shell of your ear had tears starting to form in your eyes - goosebumps starting to run up and down your arms. Holy fuck. I love him. 

“Jakey boy! There you are! We were starting to get worried that you ran off with your misses!” 

The both of you snapped your heads over to the left when you heard the deep booming voice interrupting this sweet, tender moment. A man with shoulder length auburn hair was standing at the end of the hallway opening up both of mahogany stained french doors that seemed to lead into the dining room. Without saying a word, Jake jerked his hand away from your face while rolling his eyes before reaching down and grabbing your hand tightly, interlocking your fingers and pulling you after him.  

“Ah! You must be Y/n, right?” The mystery man snapped his fingers, making a finger gun at you, opening the right mahogany door the whole way - giving you a chance to sweep your eyes across the whole room. Your anxiety starting to leave your body when you saw everyone in the room sitting with wide smiles, engaging in conversations and laughing at whatever the topic of conversation was. Maybe this won’t be so bad. 

“Yes! That’s me and you are?” 

“You’re telling me that Jake never told you about me?” He paused to place his hand on his chest, gasping dramatically. “My name’s Dalton.” 

“Are you two done? I would like to eat sometime tonight.” Jake mumbled.  

“Oh, I’m sure you’ll be eating something.” Dalton winked at you as he outstretched his arm towards the dining room. 

You opened your mouth to reply back to him, but were cut short by Jake pulling you again, bumping into him a little bit. That seemed to agitate Jake based on the way he dropped his hold on your hand to wrap his arm around you, placing an open palm on the lower part of your back - not quite leading you to the four empty chairs placed in the middle of the table but more like he was trying not to make it so obvious that he was pushing you in a hurriedly fashion to get to your seats. 

“Ah, here we are.” Jake spoke in a hushed whisper, almost as if he was scared to break the silence that fell upon the room when we entered. The only sound being the null thump of your heel hitting the polished tiled floor. 

Jake pulled open the chair for you, jerking his head in a fast motion for you to take a seat - trying to look as graceful as possible, making sure that you didn’t bring more attention onto yourself, if that was possible.  Behind your back, Jake cleared his throat and pushed your chair in, arching his eyebrows to everyone in the room if they dared to look at him. He would never tell you this; due to the state of anxiety you were in, but he too was extremely nervous about how tonight would go. There wasn’t a single doubt in his mind that Antonio and Valeria would adore you; he just couldn’t shake the nerves that were sitting in his stomach, it felt like you were meeting his siblings for the first time again. 

“You good?” He mumbled under his breath shooting you a glance out of the corner of his eyes once he noticed you staring at the crystal wine glass being filled up with a dark red liquid - mentally cursing at himself that he forgot to tell Valeria that you preferred dry white wines, compared to reds. 

His voice snapped you out of your daze, making you jump a little bit in the air before focusing your attention briefly on him. “Huh? Oh yeah, I’m fine.”

Jake seemed to be satisfied with your answer, based on the little ‘hm’ he gave you, sending a small smile your way - his hand finding a place on your thigh in between the slit of your dress. Inching his fingers up slowly until he could rub his pinky on the lace on the red lingerie set you were wearing; trying to inch his pinky closer and closer to your center. Fuck, you wiggled around in your seat, trying to get him to remove his hand - it wasn’t working. 

With a huff you came to the conclusion that no matter how hard you tried, he wasn’t going to remove his hand and you hated to admit it, but the smallest touch from him always gave you comfort. Finally finding the courage within you to look away from the man beside you or the wine glass in front of you, you were met with those breathtaking green eyes that were in the photos covering the walls of the foyer and the countless hallways. 

“Ms. y/l/n, to what do we owe the pleasure of joining us tonight?” Valeria smiled at you. 

“Mrs. Costello, I-” 

“Now dear, don’t scare her off. Jake will never bring another woman around again if you do.” An older man with sun kissed skin and jet black hair playfully scolded his wife before sending a teasing wink in your direction. 

A small gasp left your mouth when you took in the sight of the man before you - scanning his face from left to right you noticed all of the features that were for sure a dead giveaway that he was Antonio Costello, the prominent forehead wrinkles, the four inch long scar on his left cheek that healed into a light pink, the mole that sat beside his right nostril. Holy fuck, he’s actually real. A small pinch to your thigh brought you out of your thoughts, realizing that you must’ve been staring at Antonio for far too long, you tried to cover up your actions by coughing loudly and grabbing the red wine. 

“Oh dear are you okay?” Valeria furrowed her eyebrows at you, her mouth opening up a little bit, like she actually cared about your well being. 

“I’m okay, I just have a tickle in my throat. Thank you for asking Mrs. Costello.” 

“Mrs. Costello is my mother in law, please call me Valeria.” 

“I wouldn’t feel right doing that.”

“No, I insist. My family calls me by my first name. It’s only fitting that you do too.” 

Now you really were coughing on your wine as the word family sunk into your brain. Jake’s hand left your thigh momentarily to rub a soothing circle across your back, a fire igniting under your skin wherever he moved his hand. “Yeah, yeah. I’m fine. I promise.” You did your best to shoot him a reassuring smile as you were secretly cringing on the inside. The word family repeating like a mantra. Family. Family. Family. 

“Family?” You harshly whispered to Jake when it looked like Valeria and Antonio moved their attention onto the couple sitting to their left. 

“What about it?” Jake shrugged nonchalantly, placing his left hand back on your thigh and grabbing his glass filled with whiskey with his right. 

“I’m not family. They don’t know me.”

“Lower your voice. They may not know you personally but they know you’re with me and that automatically makes you family. Try not to act like you despise everyone in the room…would it kill you?”  Jake paused briefly to look at your mouth parting, watching as you were trying to find a witty comeback. “Close your mouth or I’ll put it on my cock in front of everyone. Or would you prefer for me to take you over my lap and make your ass as red as your dress?” 

A loud laugh from across the table pulled both of your attention away from each other. A new wave of embarrassment crashing over your body like waves when you realized Mr. Costello had heard every single word Jake had spoken to you. 

“Don’t be embarrassed Y/n. Every single male in this room has had to put their woman in their place before.” Antonio spit out in between chuckles, grabbing onto his stomach as if this was the funniest thing he has ever witnessed. 

“Correction, every male in this room thinks they put their woman in ‘their place’ but they haven't. You see, Y/n, they fail to notice that while they are the head of the household, the woman is the neck. The head doesn’t move if the neck doesn’t allow it to.” Valeria smirked at you over top of her glass, joy filling her eyes knowing that she had completely destroyed her husband’s statement within a couple of minutes. “Do not let Jake think that he can control everything.” 

“Valeria, how you wound me.”  Jake shot back at her in a teasing tone. Maybe you had always thought wrong about the mafia, maybe they really were their own little family and only saw the crimes they committed as protecting each other. 

“Speaking of wounding..where is Daniel? I’m going to kick his ass for being late. I told him last time how much it pissed me off.” 

“Relax darling, I’m sure he will be here in a couple of minutes. I had him run across the city this afternoon. He’ll be here.”  Now it was Antonio’s turn to place his hand on her back, trying to soothe her. 

“I’m here! I’m here!” Speak of the devil. “Valeria! I am so sorry I’m late. My plans this afternoon ran longer than expected, I didn’t realize what time it was.” 

“Don’t do it again.” She pointed a single finger in his direction, narrowing her eyes at him. 

“Tell Antonio not to have me running tasks late in the afternoon then.” Danny rolled his eyes, earning a chuckle from everyone in the room as he walked briskly to the empty seat that was between you and Dalton. “I’m kidding.” He held his hands up in defense when the ringleader of the mafia shot him a stern look. 

 “Y/n, you look beautiful.”  Your chest tightening when Danny took the spot next to you. Oh fuck, this is real. I’m really about to sit here for the next three hours and be questioned about everything under the sun.

“Really? In this old thing? I just threw it on.” You let out a small laugh, trying not to give away your current state of panic and gave a quick wink to him. The hand on your thigh tightening around your flesh. That’s going to leave a mark. 

“Look, this dinner stuff can get super boring, it’s a lot of pointless talk.They’ll speak to everyone around us and they’ll speak directly to Jake. No one’s going to talk to us for the next hour or two, just breathe.” Danny gave you a sympathetic smile - he was able to see right through your mask. 

Thank God for Daniel Wagner. 

Furrowing his eyebrows and looking off to the left of the room, Danny seemed to be lost in thought - almost as if he was having an internal battle. You watched as the raven haired man gulped and then leaned down to your ear.

“Honestly, it’s just a whole bunch of nonsense. They like to have these ‘family dinners’ but they only talk to half of the people sitting here. I think they just talk to talk, they like hearing their own voice.” 

A small giggle left your mouth at the last sentence - something that didn’t go unnoticed by Jake ofcourse. If the grip on your thigh wasn’t tight enough already, he had a death grip on it now - almost like he was afraid you were going to get up from your chair and straddle the raven haired man in front of everyone. Your hand flew down to his wrist, trying to move his hand even just an inch. He wasn’t budging. 

“Thank you Daniel for finally showing up. Now…let’s eat.” Valeria stood up from her chair, clapping her hands signaling for the servants to come into the room. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~

You weren’t sure how long you had been sitting here at this long table. What you did know though, is that you were dying from boredom - Danny was right, as soon as the first course came, no one spared a tiny glance in your direction. It was like you were invisible, like you didn’t exist to them. Trying to be as quiet as a mouse, you ran through the motions of eating, drinking from your glass, pausing and looking around the table and casting sympathy smiles to the other women in the room as they did the same. 

Jake kept his hand on your leg the entire time, instead of keeping his hard grip on your thigh the whole time he decided to gently keep it there and his fingers absentmindedly traced invisible circles. Unbeknownst to him, the action wasn’t calming you down - it was doing the complete opposite. The moisture building in between your legs was becoming unbearable. How were you supposed to sit here for God knows how long and risk, your juices staining your dress or better yet, staining the chair. Afterall, you decided to wear crotchless panties tonight; feeling a little bit more on the braver side, you were planning on teasing your sugar daddy tonight, planning to ask him to sit on the couch and you would lounge in front of the fireplace. Your pussy being on display for him, hoping that he could keep his hands to himself while your fingers would be buried in your cunt, your juices leaking everywhere, hoping that would prove you of being enough for him. 

Deciding that you had enough of tonight and you wanted to get the ball rolling for your plan, you  tapped gently on Jake’s shoulder, pulling him away from his conversation momentarily. 

“Yes?” 

“How much longer?” 

A smile broke out onto his face as you asked him the question, he could feel his heart swelling as he thought about you wanting to spend alone time with him. 

“We just have dessert and then we have to drop Danny off at his place and then we can go home.” 

Your lips pouted when you realized how much longer you would be here, he leaned down quickly and gave you a soft peck, mumbling ‘be good’ against your lips. As soon as he pulled away a brilliant idea popped into your head. You excused yourself, making sure that you had your clutch with you, standing up from the chair, quickly making your way out of the room. Opening up the right french door, you were met with the sight of a 6’3 man in a black suit standing with his back pressed against the left one. A singular brow of his arching when he took in the sight of you. 

“Bathroom?” You questioned the man. 

“Down the hallway, last door on the left.” He didn’t look at you when he spat the directions, only throwing his hand in the direction of the hallway you needed to go down. Mumbling a quick ‘thanks’ you had tunnel vision making your way down the extravagant hall. Get in there, take your picture, send it to Jake, Don’t be a pussy. To your delight, the bathroom was single use, no stalls for you to have to worry about anyone coming in and catching you with your phone up your dress. Glancing around, you tried to figure out where would be the best place to prop your leg up to show Jake everything. It looks like you didn’t have too many options, pulling your phone out of your bag, you placed your left leg on the counter - shuddering when the air hit your center, giving you a slight chill. 

Hurry Y/n, you don’t have that much time. Unlocking the device in front of you, you switched to your front camera, moving the iPhone down into a position where your pussy would be in the center of the camera - glistening in all of its glory. A smile soon covering your whole face when you looked at the photo, there was no way Jake would be able to resist this. He had told you countless times that he ‘wishes he could live with his face in your cunt for the rest of his life’. A small vibration pulled you out of your thoughts when you saw the pop up message stating you only had ten percent of battery life. Cursing to yourself about how old your phone has gotten, you figured you needed to send the picture quickly or else your phone would die and your whole plan had been for nothing. Clicking on the little box to share the photo, you scanned over the suggested names quickly before selecting the first one that said Jake. Placing your phone on the counter, you walked over to the toilet, giving it a quick flush and walking back over to the sink to wash your hands. Drying them off, you felt the need to check your phone - something in your gut telling you to double check your texts.

No. No. NO. 

Your chest tightened and your face flushed red with the realization that you sent a picture of your bare pussy to the three person group chat with Danny, Jake and you. Maybe you’d luck out and none of them have opened the message due to the other men at the table keeping them busy talking about future business endeavors. 

Wishing for the best you clicked on the photo and held down, praying that the pop up box with the words ‘undo send’ would show up at any second - but would whoever above be that nice to you and show mercy?

 No, they wouldn’t. 

Tears welling in your eyes as you watched the screen in front of you turned pitch black. 

Fuck, Fuck. Fuck. 

Grabbing your clutch off the counter, you ripped open the bathroom door and ran to the dining room. Maybe you would be lucky and neither of them saw the picture yet. Maybe, just maybe, you’d be able to convince the two of them to hand over their phones so you could get rid of the picture before they saw it. Ignoring the look of the man guarding the door, you ripped it open, your eyes immediately zeroing in where the two men on your mind were sitting. Shit. You knew you were absolutely fucked.  Jake’s eyes cutting through you like razors and Danny’s face a shade of bright red. 

Turning his attention to the Costello's, Jake bids them a goodnight, telling them that you weren’t feeling well and needed to go home. They nodded their heads understandingly, both of them looking over at you, giving sympathetic smiles. If only they knew. Jake didn’t give Danny a chance to get up from the chair himself - he had grabbed onto the color of Danny’s cobalt blue button down, yanking it, signaling for him to get up quickly or things weren’t going to end well. You watched in horror as the tall man scrambled to get to his feet, following Jake closely. 

Jake stalked his way over to you, wrapping his arm around your bicep, dragging you to the front door and tried to drag you down the steps, noticing that you wouldn’t be able to move as fast as he could - he bent down with a huff and threw you over his shoulder.

“Put me down.” You squealed, your palms hitting his back; trying to show him that you meant business. 

“No. You don’t get a say right now.” He spoke to you through his teeth, his anger really showing. “What the fuck where you thinking? Huh? Do you like the idea of showing your pussy to my brother?” 

Lifting your head up from his back you found Danny hot on your trail, barreling down the steps two at a time trying to reach you and Jake fast. 

“Answer. Me.” Jake roared with a hash slap to your left ass cheek, you bit your lip, keeping a shriek from making its way out of your mouth. You’ve never seen Jake like this.

“Jake.” 

“Shut the fuck up Daniel.” You were positive he was seeing red, he placed you back down on the ground, staring deep into your eyes. “Answer me. Now.” 

“No. It was an accident. That picture was just meant for you.” You tried pleading with him, trying to get him to understand that you didn’t mean to do it.

“That was an accident?” He let out a breathy laugh - a menacing one, one that didn’t sound like him. “Nice try honey, I’m not stupid. I’m tired of you both lying to me.” 

“No one is lying to you. Baby, you have to believe me.” 

“Don’t you dare fucking ‘baby’ me. You can’t sweet talk your way out of this one.” 

“Ja-” 

The three of you held your breath when a familiar black Escalade made its way to where you were standing, you’ve never been so happy to hear tires driving over gravel. “You’re lucky Taylor’s here to save you from the embarrassment of everyone in that house coming out here and hearing every fucking thing that’s about to be discussed.” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Taylor, there’s no need to swing by Mr. Wagner’s place. We’re all going back to mine.”  Jake barked into the air, leaning forward to grab at the Taylor’s open pack of cigarettes sitting in the cup holder. “Mind if I have one?”

“Go ahead Mr. Kiszka.” 

While Jake was plucking a short Marlboro Red out of its pack, you took this opportunity to shoot a look in Danny’s direction. You were met with his chocolate eyes staring back at you - as wide as they could possibly be. You broke the contact for a second to shift your eyes toward your sugar daddy, raising your eyebrows and then looking back at Danny, trying to gauge if the raven haired man felt the same amount of uneasiness in the air that you felt. 

“Taylor, feel free to drop me off at my house. That dinner made me tired.” Danny’s voice was wavering with nervousness. If looks could kill, Danny would be six feet under by now - Jake snapped his head towards the other man sitting beside him, blowing the cigarette smoke in this direction. 

“What’s wrong Daniel? You’ve never had a problem coming over to mine before.” Jake spoke nonchalantly, briefly pausing to take another hit. “Oh! I know what it is, do you want to share it or do you want me to?” 

“Ja-” 

“Don’t be shy. Why don’t you tell Y/N why you’re so nervous all of a sudden?” 

As if Jake knew you were about to defend Danny - trying to ease the tension between the men, he whipped his head around at a lightning speed, squinting his eyes at you. 

“I don’t remember telling you to speak.” 

“No, you didn’t bu-” 

“Just do what you're good at. Just sit there and look pretty, this is a conversation for the men.”  

“Jake, don’t talk to her like that. You know that’s not right.” Thank God. The man on the opposite side of the car cleared his throat, cutting into the conversation before it got out of hand. 

“Fine. We’ll finish this conversation when we get back to mine.” 

Not in the mood to argue with him, you closed your mouth and gave a quick nod to both of the men as they turned their attention towards you. The three of you were all facing forward now - sitting as far back into your seats as you physically could. Jake and Danny seemed to be lost in their own thoughts - Danny biting his lip and Jake chain smoking, blowing the smoke into the air, not caring where it went anymore. Moving your gaze from the back of the headrest of the passenger seat, you met Taylor’s eyes in the rearview mirror. He looked at you with sympathy; it made your stomach turn. 

The twenty minute drive back to Jake’s house seemed to go by at an antagonizing pace. To pass the time you were counting the raindrops on the window, counting how many breaths you were taking - but nothing, nothing could stop your mind from racing with thoughts about Jake. 

As the car pulled into the parking garage that you have felt yourself becoming familiar with, a lump in your throat started to form. A hand fell onto your thigh, giving a quick squeeze before letting go. Swallowing the lump in your throat, you watched Jake’s broad shoulders flexing under his black suit jacket before getting out of the car. You couldn’t bring yourself to take your attention away from where he had excited the car. You were pulled out of your trance when the door behind you swung open. 

“C’mon.” Jake spoke in a low register, making you subconsciously squeeze your thighs together. Knowing better than to keep him waiting, you quickly scurried out of the car, finding the courage to stand beside him. A calloused hand was placed on your back, quiding you forward, but also keeping you at a slowish pace so you had no choice but to watch Danny’s figure making its way into the elevator, holding open the door for the two of you. 

One foot in front of the other - you stared down at your feet the whole time, not finding it within yourself to look at Danny or finding yourself to be brave enough to break the silence the three of you had created. The silence was eerie, but was soon cut off by the ding from the elevator informing that you had arrived at your destination.  You and Danny kept walking into Jake’s penthouse, unaware that he had stopped in his place, he hadn’t moved an inch since he initially got off the elevator. 

Turning around you saw Jake staring at the black doors of the elevator - stiff as can be. You were positive he could feel your eyes on him as he turned around. His once coffee colored eyes almost looked pitch black while he took in the sight of you and Danny standing close to each other. 

“Like I said earlier, I don’t know if you think I’m stupid or what it is, but I can clearly see that there’s something here.”  Jake snarled, waving his hand, motioning between you and the man five feet away from you. 

“Jake, you’re crazy.” 

“Shut the fuck up Daniel. Don’t try to act like it’s not there because I can see it. Just for tonight, I’m going to indulge in this little fantasy that the two of you have.” 

Taglist : @heykoonsy @dannythedog @joshkiszkatoothgap @milkgemini @gretavanbear @sacredjake@chmpgnnlace @objectsinspvce @poofyloofy @saaoko @twistedmelodies @cal-a-bungaa @writingcold @sarakay-gvf @gretasmokerising @lunaindigoraven @gvfpal​ @brokenbellsgvf​ @josh-iamyour-mama​ @shesawomaninadream @gretavangroupie @kleogvf @jakekiszkasmommy @jakekiszkabf @jakekiszkapunchmeintheface

@whiterosekiszka @laneygvf @jordie-gvf @takenbythemadness @bladenotblaze

[genji-centric]

hi!! can i ask for venture sfw alphabet? and if it isn’t too much, junker queen sfw and nsfw alphabet in the future? thank you! <3

Of course!!! I know Tumblr goes absolutely wild for any Venture content (for good reason) hope you enjoy the sfw Venture alphabet and the soon to be Junker Queen alphabets ill write in the future ^^

Venture SFW alphabet

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

Venture is a chatty person, often complimenting you or jokingly flirting with you whenever. PDA isn't overwhelming, but don't be shocked to find them kissing your cheek in front of colleges. They just love you so much. Why stop if people are around? Expect lots of compliments and hugs from them. A kiss on the cheek is a must and the softest smile whenever you look at them. Sloan loves you, and affection is always a given when you're around.

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

You and Sloan, when first starting as friends, quickly developed into one of those friendships you know will last forever. They have this quirky way of life that draws you in, the best friend everyone needs. They're the type of friend to always have your back. They will listen to any silly thought or interest as long as you hear them out about archeology. Being friends with Venture means never being alone. They might not have advice for everything, but they will definitely stand up for you when you need them to. Friendship with them is easy, compliment a shirt they wear and soon you two will be hanging out 3 hours later and you have a new friend.

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

Yes. They love to cuddle. So. Much. They love to wrap an arm around you as you two watch a movie together, kissing your forehead and playing with your hair. Sleeping in the same bed means you will be cuddled. They will happily be the big spoon all the time if you let them. They love how warm you can be, Sloan is also a heater themselves, so prepare to not need a blanket for the most part.

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

Sloan still has many things they want to see, settling down isn't in their cards yet but maybe once they've seen many things and participated in society changing digs they'll consider tuning travels down a bit. But in general, Venture would want you to join them on digs. They love having you by their side, and if you can join them in exploring the world, they would be in heaven. When it comes to cooking, they are.. questionable at best. They will definitely learn if you teach them, cook together, and you have one of the best dates.

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

Venture really couldn't, they love you so much it would take a lot for it to reach that point. If it does, Venture would be withdrawing more. They'd go to sites alone and a lot more frequently, leaving you alone. It hurts them to be around you, and as they withdraw more, they're trying to stop all those happy memories from coming back to them. If it stays like that long enough with no word from either of you, then Sloan would have to break it off through text when they're in a different country.

F = Fiancé(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

Venture likes the thought of marriage. It makes you both bonded together more, and they just love that. They will happily commit to you, join them on their adventures, and live your life going place to place, and that is the perfect thing for them. When you get engaged, Venture is always saying, "and this is my fiancé, y/n." With this goofy smile on their face, and so help me when you get married everyone knows you two are with how much Sloan boasts about it.

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

Sloan knows they are a strong person, carrying around that drill adds to a lot of strength in their arms and everything in general. They tend to handle you with care, much like a precious attifact they are gentle when they hold you or carry you in their arms (unless they get really excited to see you then expect a death grip hug.) When it comes to emotions Sloan is gentle in every way, they love and care for tou so of course they will reat you with care.

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

Sloan gives the best hugs it's insane, each one makes you feel loved and cherished and all warm inside. Sloan leaps at every opportunity they can to hug you, after a long day? Hug. Something exciting like a promotion? Hug. You just being you? A hug that leaves you warm and fuzzy. Their hugs are always all encompassing, often they will pick you up mid hug and swing you a little bit. They just love you so much they can't help it!

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

All the time, Venture loves saying it to someone they care about. They say it all the time to you, expect every text conversation to have 'I love you' in it somewhere. Sloan definitely said it first, and when they do, they mean it. Sloan fell first and harder. You are their first love, and they cherish that fact.

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

Sloan doesn't get jealous.. that's what they tell themselves when you're talking to someone whose eyes are lingering for far too long. They try to keep their jealousy to themselves, but sometimes they can't handle it. When someone is rubbing them the wrong way enough, they'll happily swing by, wrap an arm around you while giving the person the biggest grin they can muster. Hell, if that doesn't work, they will happily give you a peck on the cheek while calling you sickly sweet nicknames.

Venture can be a little sloppy when it comes to kissing. They just get so excited to kiss you that they'll miss where they're aiming. It's funny and charming, just like your Sloan. They really enjoy cheek kisses, it's cute and lighthearted. If you kiss their cheek, Venture is melting with a soft blush on their face.

L = Little ones (How are they around children?)

Sloan is so cool to children. They can mention all the cool and exciting facts about history, and they have the silly vibe children just love. It's not uncommon to see Venture cheering up a crying kid in public. They are a natural at it, it seems. If you ask, you'll learn that Sloan was a babysitter when they were growing up, and they're still amazing at it. If you two ever have kids of your own, expect them to have the coolest rock eating parent.

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

Venture is a morning person, but not a proper one because they wake up messy. Hair everywhere and eye crust, they drool in their sleep and overall not a pleasant sight. It's absolutely hilarious, though. Once they're tidied up, they make themselves a cup of coffee and often flip through whatever article they're reading. Maybe tidy the artifacts in their personal collection and just enjoy some quiet time before the day starts. If you join them, you'll both talk about your plans for the day, possibly even the future. If you aren't a morning person, expect a kiss on the forehead before they are on with the day.

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)

Venture, once everything is wrapped up for the day, is very relaxed. They will happily join you on the couch as they read, and you do whatever hobby you enjoy. Night walks are a favorite for them. The streets look pretty at night, and they enjoy it. If you want to watch a movie, they're down, maybe watch a documentary of their choosing, and you have a very happy Sloan on your hands. You definitely got to, documentaries are their favorite thing ever.

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

Sloan is an open book. They're absolutely horrible with secrets. Let them talk, and soon you know everything about them. They love talking, and if you let them ramble soon, you know their embarrassing story when they were 5 after meeting them an hour ago.

I don't think Venture could have. Single mean thought about you, hell anything you do has them watching with heart eyes. But when someone disrespects you or archeology, that's when Sloan gets mad, and even then, that anger is more yelling at them and calling them names.

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

Sloan remembers absolutely everything. Including the small details, they remember what you like to order at restaurants to the specific brand of salt you like to get. Sloan already built up the abilities to remember historical facts. Someone as important as you is the most important thing to learn everything about in their eyes.

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

The time Sloan brought you out to your first dig with them. There you saw a new side of them you didn't see before. Venture showed you all the sights, what each tool does, and the crew they were currently working with. You learned the history of the sight, myths, and legends around the area in so on. You saw Sloan when they were passionate, excited to learn, and very attentive to you. During the breaks, Sloan would take you into the nearby town and enjoy street foods with you. The first site you saw was with them, and the first of many you would attend with them.

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

Sloan always has your back. They're strong and an Overwatch agent. They're always confident you're safe with them. Venture is protective of you. They treasure you, so of course they'll always watch out for you. Always warning you if they see a dangerous thing nearby or a possibly dangerous person. They themselves don't really need protection. But let them know of possible issues such as a spill or a broken cup in the ground they're appreciative of it.

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

Sloan loves to plan things out. Always keeping track of dates and what could be a good activity for you both to do. They always put as much effort as they can, Venture happily makes handmade gifts for you and always plans things. Just don't get mad at them if they get days off. They can be a little forgetful about time, but they always make it up to you on the rare occasions mistakes happen.

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

Sloan leaves dirt everywhere. Sand gets stuck in their hair and mud caked to their clothes. They also forget to take off their shoes sometimes. Dirt gets tracked into the house constantly. They also forget to tidy up after themselves sometimes, like a forgotten plate from supper or a spill they forgot to wipe fully. Also totally the type to use their sleeve instead of on a cloth to wipe something up. Venture also is out a lot of the time. Working for Overwatch is busy, and adding working on different digs takes up a lot of time.

Venture isn't really too concerned in their appearance. They can enjoy a bit of fun with experimenting with eyeliner, but that's really as far as they go. They don't do it to look pretty but rather for the fact it looks cool, much like their tattoos. Sloan doesn't really care for their appearance in general, often having dirt caked to their jacket and buts of gravel falling out of their tangled hair. Looks don't mean the world to them. They enjoy looking at you, but they could care less about what they look like.

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

Absolutely. Before you Sloan thought they were content, that gap they felt was just wanting more knowledge, right? Not really. Once they met you and everything you made them feel they realized you were the thing they missed. With you, Sloan now wants a future with you by their side. They can never go back.

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)

100% brings you the random things that makes you question them. Yeah, Sloan can be amazing at gift giving, remembering what you like and what you want to get. But they also can bring back the goofiest figure that looks horrible, maybe a cursed doll for you who knows. Sloan likes your smile, and if that means bringing back a funny painting someone did so be it.

Someone who won't listen to them. They've often been shut down about their more out there personality and not as common interests they just need people around them who will listen. They also don't really like mean people. If everything you say is negative, it will start to wear them down with thoughts of 'do they think of me like that?'

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?)

Venture surprisingly is a good sleeper, they often go to bed around 10 and sleep soundly through the night. They seem like a dream, that is until you're beside them. Sloan SNORES. You think you've heard snoring, but they take it to another level. If you get them to roll over, they somehow are still snoring it's crazy. They're apologetic, though, and for your sake, they try different snoring aids. It might work, might not.

[renshengs]

the state of juwon and kwon hyuk's relationship is so fascinating to me. flesh & blood son vs. son-my-father-wishes-he-had. that strange awkward and sometimes sad tension between them. a lot of it is a difference in backgrounds: juwon doesn't fully understand kwon hyuk's attachment to han kihwan nor kwon hyuk's willingness to serve and kiss up to someone like that, while kwon hyuk finds it difficult to fathom juwon's rebellion/resistance toward his father, who is an extremely powerful sponsor to have and represents to kwon hyuk a path to success, a way out of the implied desperation and poverty of his background.

they both like each other more than they realize and more than they'd want to admit. kwon hyuk has known juwon for a decade without Knowing him. they're both occupying several roles in each other's lives at once, all of them intersecting with each other, and the overlaps make it very awkward. kwon hyuk is juwon's brother figure and his former tutor and the middleman between him and his father and the fabled "kid your parents won't stop comparing you to" and also like, his colleague. a family friend. he's the only person juwon hangs out with, and their idea of "hanging out" is mostly just sitting parallel to each other in the private section of some gorgeous uppity seoul bar while kwon hyuk badgers juwon about friends and dating and, you know, pleasing his father.

kwon hyuk's approach to being a good hyung to juwon is also very funny. he's pretty serious about it. there's very obviously a part of him that wants to knock some sense into this elite rich prettyboy's head so that he doesn't get himself stuck in places kwon hyuk can't dig him back out of, but also this is made ineffective by the fact that his methods often rely on (unintentionally) condescending juwon, such as at the beginning of episode 10. which, like, he wasn't even wrong. juwon was absolutely not equipped to be facing lee dongsik.

the problem with his approach is that he's going by the older-sibling-who-is-better-than-you manual, half-chiding and half-lecturing, because he is not just juwon's hyung but also han kihwan's perfect little helper, the son figure he turns to, especially when his actual son disappoints him, which results in kwon hyuk feeling even more threatened by the need to be flawless and Unlike Juwon. due to their awkward inexplicable positions in each other's lives, juwon is wary of him for so long because he interprets the attention kwon hyuk gives him as an extension of kwon hyuk's supposed lifelong gratitude toward han kihwan. he's dissuaded by kwon hyuk's proximity to han kihwan. their relationship is burdened by the presence of juwon's father crowding out the potential space for closeness between them, which is, among other smaller reasons, the main reason why they can't grow any closer to each other. it quite literally takes the whole show and life-altering discoveries for juwon to finally open up enough that he becomes willing to reach out to kwon hyuk, not because he's 100% certain that kwon hyuk even likes him that much but because he's finally accepted the fact that, fine, he does care about this annoying snooty hyung of his, and cares enough that he doesn't want kwon hyuk to be caught in the crossfire.

and kwon hyuk does meet him halfway when he reaches out! juwon is rewarded by the narrative for letting himself be more honest and vulnerable with kwon hyuk than he's ever dared to be, and this time kwon hyuk considers his words and listens to him instead of treating him like a baby who doesn't know anything. it's sooo important to me that they're able to grow closer once han kihwan is out of the picture. it's so so important to me that juwon has people in his life who are not lee dongsik nor the rest of the manyang squad. i think post-canon both of them catch up sometimes when juwon's in seoul and it's—easier. better. feels realer.

[etherfabric]

Messages for Reassurance + Songs

Choose a pile by which picture you resonate with the most.

If your mind is too busy to clearly decide, take a few deep breaths, and use the finger of your non-dominant hand to hover over the images. One will give off the most subtle yet prominent signals, like tingles, a magnetic pull, or temperature. This is your pile. Multiples are also possible.

Pile 1

Knight of Cups, High Priestess

The hope inside of you is not delusion. You are safe to go after the things that seem promising and enriching. The days where you couldn't hear your gut well enough to listen to it are gone. Serendipities of various sizes permeate your day to day life, and it feels almost to good to be true. Did you really make it? Yes, dear. You did. You embraced your shadows enough to bask in the sun again.

Of course this is no utopia, and the frights of the past have sharpened your foresight to real possibilities, but believe yourself when you can't feel any danger closeby. You are stronger, smarter, and in better company than ever before. Now all there is left to do is putting some weight in those timid steps towards your bliss. Don't worry about tripping - you'll land on your foundation and get up again, eyes forward, one foot in front of the other. You will get there as soon as you fully arrive internally, and you are so close to completion already. You will see it once you believe it.

Pile 2

6 of Wands, The Hanged Man

You are exactly where you are supposed to be, in the exact context and circumstances you see at this very moment, inside and out. The conditions are perfect for you thrive in. You might have to get a little unorthodox in your approaches, and the shape of other people's successes sometimes clouds your inspiration, but let good be good enough for now. Think of past you - they prayed to have what you have now.

Okay, yes, they were a little misguided in a few details of their wishes (thankfully rejection is divine protection), and in thinking once you would be here, everything would be perfect - life is still life, you are still human - but the lessons that led you here widened your understanding of how everything had to happen this way. Guess what, future you will look back at this very moment with the exact same wisdom and compassion.

You can work with what you have at your disposal and rightfully expect the glory of tangible progress. Just keep doing what you are doing already, keep it simple and managable, and there will be nothing significant standing in your way. Those bouts of stagnation? That's where the depth of your skills comes from in the first place. Just like muscles, the soul and mind need their periods of liminal passivity to come back with full force to charge you ahead. You are on the right track. You are doing great. You can be proud of yourself.

Pile 3

Page of Swords, 10 of Wands

Oh dear. It's okay to say you are tired. It's okay to break apart. It's okay to hurt and just want to quit it all. Why are you carrying all this by yourself, tasks and thoughts alike? Don't you know the relief once you put them both down? For the thoughts: Speak, write, scream. To somebody, or nobody. The most important part is admitting it. Then at least you are freed of the burden to act like everything is fine. I know you are scared, I know you wouldn't be in this situation in the first place if you knew for sure you could let go. But I trust in the magic of coincidences, and you reading this right now tells me you need to stop swimming against the current and let the flow carry you downstream.

Stop clinging to things that only stay if you wreck yourself. The tide will wash them out of your hands anyway, because soon you will reach your body's limits, and then the decision will be made for you. Let the dam break. Let nature take its course. You are so smart and truly believed the best, I can see that, and it's no lack of character that caused things to go this way. But this wasn't meant for you. I know it hurts. I hurt with you. But once you stop fighting gravity, you will be drawn to what is truly for you. Put the burden down. I know you had the best intentions, but it's over. You can rest now.

Pile 4

9 of Cups, Knight of Pentacles

You already know this, but slow and steady does indeed win the race. Instead of doing a million things exhausting yourself, you are focusing on a handful of daily tasks, knowing they will lead you exactly where you want to be. Time and consistency are on your side. You know you don't have to be perfect and can always pick up where you left off. Appreciation from outside sources resonates with your own satisfaction about how things are playing out for you.

Your longterm goals seem closer than ever. You have your routine down pat, and trust in your ability of finding even better tweaks and spins for it in the future. This calm air of confidence looks so good on you! You have earned it. You can read the signs relative to your success, know which road to take, and which pitfalls to avoid. You feel incredibly rich and know how to pass the time until certain things come to fruition. It used to make you anxious when you were faced with slowpaced processes, and you fell back on less sustainable approaches to selfsoothe. Now you appreciate the journey itself, even welcome the delays, so you have ample time to smell the flowers on the side of the road.

[icyg4l]

PAC: Are You Getting Kisses This Pride Month?

Hello beautiful people! Tonight’s reading is hella self explanatory. This reading is apart of my Pride Month series. I will be using my Pride Tarot Deck in honor of this lovely month. This topic is dedicated to my queer folks who haven’t gotten as much action as they've wanted to and want to know if they’ll get some luck this time around. There will be some 18+ moments in these readings but nothing too extreme. There’s no need to talk too much so please! Without further ado, please select the image that resonates with you the most.

Top Left-to-Bottom Right: (Pile 1-9)

Pile One: For some reason, I am channeling that hand clapping game called ‘Mama’s Having a Baby’. I think that this pile is real fertile this month, lol. Or you could be feeling very playful and nostalgic this month. I also channeled the “trick or treat, smell my feet” song. So with that being said, I would say that you are getting kisses this month. Some of you could be kissing an old childhood friend. Perhaps you are rekindling with an ex that treated you very well. I am getting the energy of a cool down period. I feel like you will be hanging out with this person all day in public, but afterwards you go to their place or vice versa. This person is clean cut, has great manners and is very compassionate. They’ll treat you like royalty. There is a bit of teasing that comes with this kiss though. It does not come easy, you will have to work for it. It will be sloppy, hot and completely worth it. Congratulations, Pile One!

Cards Used: 6 of Cups, King of Cups, The Sun, King of Pentacles, Queen of Swords, Knight of Wands, 8 of Pentacles

Pile Two: I am seeing someone fold their arms and close their legs. So, this is a no for you, Pile Two. For some of you, you could be starting your abstinence journey this month for personal reasons. The top reason being you’re just not feeling the dating scene. The feeling of disgust is coming up. You’ve been in this predicament before, Pile Two. I feel like you will have the opportunity to get some kisses but you’re not all the way sold on going that way with whoever. I am getting that whoever this is, they just want to fuck you. But you are choosing to withhold your sexual/lustful urges because you can sense that they only want what you have for one night. Good for you for choosing yourself. You are not a doormat, Pile Two. Sniff out the bs and be done with it!

Cards Used: 5 of Pentacles, The World (RX), 6 of Wands, 3 of Wands, 9 of Wands, Strength, 8 of Wands

Pile Three: Well, it all depends, Pile Three. How bad do you want to kiss them? It’s all in your hands. I feel like everything will be set up for you to have the perfect kiss with them. Just don’t fuck it up. I feel like you will need to loosen up or be alone with them for a while in order for it to go right. Don’t rush anything and just be yourself. You don’t have to pretend to be anyone else. I am channeling the energy of Josie from Bottoms. Use her strategy to get you and your person alone. I get the feeling that you are coming with someone in mind. This person is someone that makes you feel at home and safe. The kiss itself will make you two closer. Don’t be surprised if some type of promotion occurs in the dynamic a couple days after the kiss. I don’t blame you for feeling so nervous but avoid acting as if you do not care. It will not manifest the way that you want. And once again, loosen the hell up, Pile Three!

Cards Used: The Devil (RX), Judgment, 4 of Cups, 7 of Wands, The Hermit (RX), King of Wands, 6 of Swords, 4 of Wands, 2 of Cups

Pile Four: I feel like you are traveling to a different city this month. D.C., Los Angeles, Seattle, Manhattan, Atlanta and San Francisco come to mind. I feel like you could be into some taboo shit when it comes to the bedroom. You might be into swinging, visiting sex clubs or be an avid collector of sex toys. When you visit this city, you will be enjoying the single life, just minding your business. I am seeing a club/party scene in my third eye. The scenario I am thinking of is someone buying you a drink and because of that you two will be acquainted throughout the night. This person could also invite you to dance with them. This is someone who is very friendly. If you are visiting a friend in this new city, this will be a friend of your friend. I feel like you don’t typically kiss someone when you first meet them, but on this night you will. It will be well-needed. This kiss will start off as innocent and you two will match each other’s freaks, lol. I feel like they might end up taking you home, lol (please be safe). In the morning, you’ll be worn out but will feel neutral about the situation. It won’t be something that you regret, but it will be something to talk about amongst your friend group, lol. The Carrie Bradshaw energy is very strong here, lol.

Cards Used: 4 of Swords, The Hanged Man, The World, 9 of Pentacles, 2 of Swords, 8 of Wands, 3 of Cups, Knight of Cups, The Star, 10 of Pentacles, Page of Cups, 3 of Pentacles

Pile Five: Your energy is conflicting, Pile Five. It feels like if you are kissing someone, then you will be kissing them for the last time. But I am also getting a scenario that you will be with someone but they are going to reject your romantic advances. In both scenarios, you are being led on/lied to/lovebombed unfortunately. If you do get kissed however, I feel like it will not be good. The kiss will be mid and it will make you question the state of the relationship. This is a wakeup call for you, Pile Five. If you’ve been feeling like they’re not being clear and sending mixed signals, this will be the sign that you are waiting for. This person is selfish and does not put in the effort to see things from your perspective. They have narcissistic tendencies and for that, they feel it is easy to manipulate the situation. I think you will have enough of this person sooner rather than later.

Cards Used: 9 of Cups, King of Wands, 3 of Swords, The Magician, 10 of Swords, Ace of Wands, 8 of Pentacles, Page of Swords, The Moon, 7 of Pentacles

Pile Six: Well duh. You knew you were going to get the kiss before you clicked on this post, Pile Six! I heard “She said yes!” as I was pulling for you. I feel like you have been waiting to make this person your significant other and this time, they will finally say yes. The reason for their delay is because they wanted to do things on their time. They did not want to rush anything. They wanted to make you feel included in their schedule. Others of you are already in a relationship and will actually be getting engaged. So, the kiss will happen after the question is popped! I believe that this proposal will happen in public (whether it’s for the position of marriage or not). This person means a lot to you and it makes sense why you two are together. The kiss feels like magic; like one of those kisses in the movies where someone gets picked up and twirled. Congratulations, Pile Six!

Cards Used: 3 of Swords (RX), 2 of Cups, 4 of Wands, 10 of Wands, The Emperor

Pile Seven: Now listen, you will get your kiss but it will be under one condition. You have to impress your person’s circle. I feel like this person puts you under a lot of tests. They’re kind of childish but if you feel like you can handle it, go ahead. I see you have a lot of faith in this connection. This person values their friendships a lot so your scenario makes sense. But there’s some type of disadvantage for you here. I feel like they will get their friend to flirt with you to see if you’re actually faithful. Maybe they will purposely start an argument with you in front of their friends to see how you will react. There is something about this scenario that feels abrupt. But you will pass the test and win your person’s trust. Be patient with them and take them serious, please! I think that the actual kiss will be “small”. It will be a peck on the lips, something innocent. The kiss itself could be abrupt as well, but at least their lips are soft, lol!

Cards Used: 7 of Pentacles, Ace of Cups, 6 of Pentacles (RX), 7 of Swords (RX), 8 of Swords, Queen of Swords, 2 of Cups, Page of Wands, 3 of Wands, The Empress, King of Cups (RX)

Pile Eight: There’s nothing blocking you this time, Pile Eight. Go for it! I feel like this could be your ex or this could be your partner who you’ve been on bad terms with. You could even feel like you are growing distant from your partner. This kiss will be sweet like honey. It’ll happen at the right moment. You’ve been meaning to do this but perhaps you’ve gotten rejected in the past. Another scenario I thought of is someone interrupting the kiss or there being some external circumstance preventing you from actually doing it. Somebody could be a cockblocker, lol. This kiss will seal the deal. It will be reassuring. This will be the ‘oh we’re definitely getting back together’ kiss or the ‘we’re back on good terms’ kiss. It will happen after a long talk. It could happen after a dance with them. Either way, this feels very intimate and it should have happened a long time ago.

Cards Used: Justice, 6 of Cups, The Devil, 7 of Wands, King of Wands, 6 of Swords, Judgment, 10 of Pentacles, The Lovers (RX), 10 of Cups, 5 of Pentacles

Pile Nine: Your pile is so interesting, Pile Nine. As I was pulling for your pile, I channeled the Funkadactyls theme song??? If you used to/still watch wrestling, this is definitely for you. But you have the tendency to let your thoughts get the best of you. Unfortunately, I do see this tendency getting in the way of you kissing your crush. This person has mutual feelings for you but damn will your nervous system get the best of you. I feel like you will unfortunately fumble the bag temporarily. But the opportunity will still be there. It’s not all the way off the table. Afterwards, you will get the kiss when you feel more ready and prepared for the event. You’re so cute omg. When the kiss finally happens, it will be intense. This is making me think of those Wattpad books where the smut starts and the writing goes like, “Their tongues danced for dominance”. The nerves will be shaken off in the moment. I feel like your crush will be stingy though or at least a bit of a tease.

Cards Used: The Moon, 2 of Pentacles, The Magician, King of Cups, The Star, Page of Cups, 7 of Pentacles, 5 of Wands, 9 of Wands (RX), King of Swords

[msbhagirathi]

Word Prompt "Colly wobbles" for the IPK 13th Anniversary Fiesta by @arshifiesta.

Character: Kaveri Khushi Gupta, Arnav Varun a.k.a AV

FF: A River Runs Through It

Author: meera30

Reason: Coz I am in love with this ff right now. Now stop finding reasons and read on.

Khushi didn't know how did he do it. It was freezing cold outside in Detroit and here was the man in question giving out a presentation which he had prepared ~in merely five minutes~ before the meeting had to be started urgently.

Clad in a crisp white shirt rolled up to his forearms, the angry gash visible just as a slip of cut, the jacket and the waistcoat already lying on the chairback. Tie hanging a lil bit loose from its usual place. Shiny charcoal colored trousers hugged his legs like a second skin. Yet, he looked as fresh and energetic as ever.

Illegal.

How can he be so perfect?

Why did I of all people had to fall for him?

She knew that her being physically bulky had nothing to do with who she fell in love with. And yet she felt a bit wretched for having fallen for such a personification of perfection.

Sometimes, she didn't know which one was more comforting? To have been immune from his charm and just keeping to herself in college or having badly fallen for him strong enough to keep away all the strangers she had met just so she could forget that one man. And yet, the 'date other men to forget him' idea was as terrible as it sounded.

As she could go no further then two minutes of looking at them and instantly comparing them to him. She knew she was being horribly desperate. But then anyone would be if the man in question was the subject of discussion...

She started scribbling an insignia (for the umpteenth time) in her notepad which she had used earlier to jot down the good points.

"Ms. Gupta. Its good that you are at least concentrating on something but I would much rather that something to be nothing but this presentation."

Arnav Varun was looking at her with that knowing smile as if he had found a key to a mystery puzzle he was looking for. His glasses gleaming at an angle.

Embarrassed at being in the wrong side, Khushi immediately changed the page and looked up at the projector screen.

"Sorry sir."

Did he know?

Had he seen her drawing his name initials in her notepad with such an interest?

What was with that smile?

And yet now he continued with his presentation as if nothing had happened. Voice unflinching and firm. Emanating an authority. An air of importance.

Hey shivji! Why do I have to be the one target that you are never tired of playing with?

The gravel in his voice still used to send chills down her spine in a good way of course.

"Okay everyone that would be it for now. If I happen to have something else I would be calling all of you back. Please be ready for more impromptu meetings this week. If anyone has any questions please do ask or you're free to leave, thank you for your attention."

Khushi gingerly raised up from her chair praying to let her go to a certain someone sitting in the Kailash parvat with his wife who loved creating sweet troubles for her in situations like these. She quickly wanted to slip away along with the rest of the others.

But, Arnav Varun didn't let that happen. He looked up from his laptop at her.

Please don't tell me to stay back.

Please tell me the one thing I am yearning to hear from you for half a decade now.

Please let me go.

Please stop me and kiss me.

Hey shivji! She might have as well become a lunatic by now.

She was about to leave when..

"Khushi.."

She turned back only to find him sitting at his chair relaxed. All tension and seriousness gone with everyone else from the room. He sipped his glass of chilled water.

There was something in this man that made her feel at peace and nervous at the same time.

"Yes sir."

She heard the sound of her voice which shivered slightly.

Don't get the wrong idea okay? I am DEFINITELY NOT scared of you.

"No 'sir' please, just AV, when we are alone."

"Okay.. AV.'

He smiled.

"Show me your notepad once Khushi."

NO. PLEASE NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO.

'Uhh.. I am in need of it urg-"

"Yeah yeah I know you need it I had seen you noting down points in it. But please I assure you I don't eat paper and I would return it within a few sec. Please?"

Khushi very hesitantly held it out and before he could open it to her eternal mortification and second hand embarrassment, Arjun's name came flashing out on her mobile screen.

A whole wave of relief hit her whole being as she excused herself to pick it up as an important call, leaving behind all her things in the room.

After fifteen minutes when she came back to her cabin she realized she had left all her things in the meeting room. She was about to sprint back to the room. When she spotted her things: her laptop bag, her water bottle and her notepad neatly sitting in the center of her desk.

At lunch break, she entered the cafeteria and already found the whole team along with (of course) AV himself sitting at the corner-most booth. She walked up and sat at the chair two seats away from him. She saw his phone lying on the table.

Suddenly it came alive with a notification and she saw the lock screen. A sprawly drawing. Careless strokes of blue ball point pen. Carved into the paper on a ruled page which seemed familiar.

An insignia, which she had scribbled on her notepad, out of boredom, sitting in the meeting room, a few hours ago. She couldn't believe her eyes.

Heat rushed to her ears and a slow blush crept onto her face and refused to go away. She couldn't believe the fact that Arnav Varun had taken a click of her drawing and set it as the lock screen on his phone.

Out of the corner of her eyes, she saw him check the notification and quickly closed off the screen, checking if anyone else noticed it or not and went back to the conversation going on.

Khushi couldn't pull out the image of her insignia on his phone screen. Her mind kept replaying the image and she couldn't stop herself from blushing. Her body had gone into over-drive. Her heart was fluttering. Her hands and legs felt shaky. Her palms felt clammy. Warmth surrounding her face and neck and the rest of her body. Her stomach was in colly-wobbles.

Hey shivji, please, I must be looking like an idiot. Please help me staaaap this blushing, my cheeks are hurting now. Uff. Stupid AV. Stupid me.

[onlymurphy]

Back to You

Spoilers: None

This feels like I wrote it a lifetime ago.

Living life as a bounty hunter for the Avengers all too often leaves you feeling detached from everything and everyone around you. When you return home to Loki after a bloody and exhausting mission, the two of you begin to feel the strain your job can have on an already complicated relationship. Though life as the anti-heroes is difficult to navigate, letting Loki help heal your wounds and ease your pains is enough to get you through the night.

Loki x gn!reader (no y/n)

Angst | Fluff

PG-13

TW: Mentions of death, mentions of violence, stabbing, mentions of guns/shooting, blood/bruises/light gore, mentions of sex

Cross-posted on A03

Request Here

There are few places on Earth where time is simply different. Through some doors, time swirls in endless circles and surrounds you in a veil of confusion and aw, washing you away much like the tides of the sea.

The hall of your apartment building at 4 a.m. is one of these places. 

It takes much too long for you to jiggle the key into the lock and force it open. Between the silence hanging over the hall and the darkness that seems to be consuming you more with every passing second, it’s nearly impossible to keep your hand steady. When you’re finally able to force the lock open to let you into the apartment, you step in with more haste than usual.

It’s strange really, how you could spend your evening collecting bounties for the Avengers, and yet the feeling of darkness makes your heart pound and your palms sweat.

You’re sure to lock the door behind you after you enter, trying to keep whatever darkness lurks in the hall behind you. Though it’s equally as dark -maybe even darker- inside of the small space, it somehow feels less heavy than the pitch blackness in the hall. The darkness of the hallway holds no good memories for you. All that’s there is the echo of your rushing feet night after night, boots slapping along the tile a little too quickly to try and slip into the apartment before any of the beasts your mind conjures up can get you.

Here, in the entryway of your tiny apartment, the darkness is more of a protective veil that encloses you and Loki away from the rest of the world. You’re safe here with him, hushing one another behind closed doors while hiding away with your desires and your secrets. You try so hard during the day to be the perfect Avenger, follow their rules and help where and when you can. There’s just something about knowing you’ll slip away into Loki’s bed at night, though, that keeps you on the edge of your seat during the day. In the light, you’re their golden Avenger that can and will complete any task thrown your way.

When the darkness comes, you’re the miscreant that beds the person that was once their greatest adversary. 

When you round the corner into the living room and see Loki sound asleep on the couch, every thought of him being an enemy abandons your mind. He’s the most perfect little thing to you. All smooth skin and soft lips, he simply enchants you with every movement of his body. You’ve never experienced anything like it, and even sound asleep, the rise and fall of his chest is enough to pull in your gaze and keep your eyes fixated on him. You are completely and utterly captured by Loki’s beauty, and you don’t see any hope of ever being able to escape it.

It hasn’t always been this way. When you first met Loki, all the two of you could do was fight with one another. He made you want to punch a hole through the wall every single time he entered a room. With his mocking smile and his voice constantly dripping with sarcasm, you found it nearly impossible to be around him for more than a few minutes at a time. He made your blood boil and your head spin.

As time went on though, that bubbling of your blood turned into a comforting warmth. Loki would return, and your heart would begin to slam hard against your ribs and fill your skin with familiarity and calm. You learned how to translate his harsh language. You became the only person on the team that could calm him, actually talk to him like he was a person. He went from the man you loathed to your best friend, and after one too many drinks at one of Tony’s miserable parties, you woke up naked in Loki's bed with your body tangled up in his.

“You know you don’t want to leave” he’d reminded you when you went to leave that morning. “You know all you want is another.”

And another, and another, and another for almost three years. It’s gotten to the point where all you want after a stressful day is the feeling of his body ravishing yours. It’s akin to an addiction, one unlike anything you’ve ever felt before. He touches you like no one has before. His hands, his mouth, even the bones of his hips brush on yours just the right way. You truly feel like his body was made to fit with yours.

You circle the couch, watching his nostrils flare as he sleeps. Both of your hands fidget at the thought of running your palms up his chest, but you resist. Instead, you brush the back of your fingers across his cheek.

“Loki” you breathe, running your hand up and down the length of his face. “My king, you need to go to bed.”

He twitches his nose, scrunching up his face before settling back against the pillow.

God, it’s so hard to wake him. You’ve never met anyone with Loki’s energy. Whether he’s using it to annoy your friends at work, make love to you, or simply curl up in bed and read a book, he’s constantly doing something. Seeing him rest is a rare sight, and you savor it every time it comes about.

You lay your hand on his shoulder, giving him the lightest shake. “Loki” you mumble, your heart twisting around as his body begins to stir. “Loki, you look uncomfortable.”

The leg he has strewn up and over the back of the couch bends and falls into the cushions, his arm coming up to cover his face. “I couldn’t be uncomfortable with you so near, darling.”

The warmth of being near Loki begins to bubble up to a boil, making your cheeks burn red. “Yeah, right. You’re gonna hurt yourself falling asleep like that.”

He readjusts himself until he’s sitting up on the couch, fists rising to rub the sleep from his eyes. “You suspect I can be hurt by lying strangely on the couch? After knowing me for this long?”

He’s right, of course. You’ve had the displeasure of seeing Loki’s body wounded and battered by a range of different foes, and the joy of leaving a few marks of affection on it yourself. He’s a strong and rather durable man despite his flawless skin and lean build.

“No” you tell him. “But it was a pretty good excuse to wake you up, wasn’t it?”

He gives you the smallest smile. “There are more…delightful ways of rousing me from sleep.”

There it is, the absolute devil that lingers in his eyes. Though your face is nearing a blaze and your slumped muscles are straining against the remains of of your tedious evening in order to reach from him, all you can muster up is a laugh.

“Watch it” you warn him with a twinge of laughter in your voice. “Hands to yourself, Odinson.”

He says nothing more, but instead rises to his feet and pulls you into him by your hips. What a strange thing you are, feeling so at home in the dark with Loki’s unusually cold body tangled around you. If any of your friends could know, they’d swoon at the image. Your associates at work would move to have you fired, if not arrested for the act. Your heart should slam and your palms should sweat at this knowledge. The mere thought of the way the world would look upon you would be enough to make anyone cut and run from this little relationship. You, however, won’t even entertain the thought. Here, letting his fingers dance across your bruised and broken body while he sways you side to side, there isn’t anything else. He’s too precious to you, fits too perfectly in your hands to let go of.

“Darling?”

You prop your head on his shoulder so that you can bury your face in his hair. He smells earthy and clean like soap, a smell so familiar that your muscles can’t help but loosen a bit in his grip.

“You’re bruised” he observes through your silence, running his fingers gingerly down the length of your shoulders. “Who did this to you?”

There isn’t much pain where his fingers stroke, but you still flinch away.

“I’m a bounty hunter” you remind him, dodging his question. “Of course I’m bruised.”

He hums deep in his chest as his fingers abandon their gentle expedition across your skin in favor of rubbing hard circles into your lower back. “You’re an excellent bounty hunter at that, and you’re my beloved. You deserve none of the pain that plagues you.”

You feel your stomach twist into knots, but you say nothing. Your dear could never know the half of what you do when you’re away during the day. As much as you enjoy the renown of being an Avenger, you’d never dare burden the ones you love with the ugly truth about what you do for work. You hands are eternally soaked in blood. For every life you save, there’s a life you take. No balance exists within you, and the only thing you can do to keep yourself balanced is relish in the affection that Loki is so generous to provide every time you come home to him.  

Loki releases your body, taking your hands instead. “You need a bath and a night of good rest.”

Your skin tingles at the thought of sinking into a hot bath. “Yes, please.”

He brings your hand up to his mouth then, kissing across your fingers with firm lips. “As much as I adore to hear you beg, I have to ask that you save it for an evening on which you’re less weary.”  

Instead of scolding him for his boldness, you take his face in your hands. “I’m tired.”

There’s a softness in his eyes then. He nuzzles into your palm, turning his head so he can kiss the calloused skin on the inside of your hand. You feel an ache deep in your chest. The weight tries to summon tears to your eyes, tries to make you pull Loki against you so tightly that he can’t see what he does to you, but your body disobeys the sensation. You barely have it in you to stand much longer. The thought of crying, of feeling that congested nose and burning throat all while trying to convince Loki that you’re just fine makes your eyelids that much heavier.

He takes your hands again, pulling you along with him through the apartment. “Then dear, I’ll join you for a shower if you’d like, and we can get your right to bed. The sooner you’re resting, the sooner you’re going to be yourself again.”

His words make your lips pull into a little grin. “Myself? Who is that for you, exactly?”

The two of you enter the bathroom, the door shutting behind you as he’s already reaching to turn on the faucet.

“Who are you, to me?” he questions. “That’s a deep sea to wade into tonight.”

As he tests the water temperature with the tips of his fingers, you begin the difficult and mildly grotesque job of peeling your uniform from your sweat and blood-sticky body.

“I don’t need a Shakespeare script” you assure him. “It’s just weird to me that you have your own version of me in your brain.”

When the water appears to have reached his desired temperature, he turns back to the sight of your trying to rid yourself of your suit. Of all the moments tonight where lecherous words could have dripped from his lips, this should take the crown as the easiest one. You prepare your ears for an onslaught of “my, my, darling. So impatient you can’t even wait for me to strip you?” or his classic “Can’t have you wearing a hero’s suit when bedding the enemy now, can we?”

The comments never come. Instead, Loki reaches out his hands with a degree of caution you rarely get to see from him. His fingers tremble ever so as they approach you, and they stop just shy of your now exposed belly.

Steam is beginning to pool into the room, but you can still see the creases forming between Loki’s eyebrows.

“Loki?” you urge him, letting go of your suit so that it falls to your ankles. “What’s wrong?”

His fingers -now shaking- brush along your skin. “Darling” he breathes. “This…this is the worst condition you’ve ever come back to me in.”

You look down to where his hands hover. Your stomach and chest are painted in a myriad of bruises, the purples, blues, and yellows dancing together until it looks like galaxies have blown open on your skin.

You wave Loki off with the most causal face you can muster. “Everything hit my suit. The bruises make it look worse than it is.”

His gentle fingertips run up your ribs, dipping around your curves and turns and tracing the bruises with the breath of a touch. His lips are slightly agape. Both eyes are locked on your abdomen, and when he runs his fingers over a particularly dark bruise, your flinch away from him with a hiss through clenched teeth.

He pulls his hands against his chest, pressing closed fists against bare skin. “Oh” he sighs. “I am truly sorry.”

You feel a hard nausea settle over your gut. Never in the time you’ve known Loki -even before you were together like this- have you ever seen his face like this. His eyes are blown wide, face flushed pale with the shaking of his hands increasing by the second. You reach for him, but he steps back.

You feel your heart plunge down into the black hole of bruises plaguing your gut.

“Loki” you begin, still reaching for him. “Loki, you didn’t hurt me. I’m just sore.”

It takes a second for him to snap out of the little trance you’ve put him in. He scans your body with baby blues eyes, taking in every bit of you with wide irises and a trembling bottom lip. When he looks at you like this during any of your typical rendezvous, you get the urge to shrink away from him. His gaze is always so intense in moments of pleasure or passion.

Now, in the dim light of your bathroom, you feel incredibly safe. If there’s a mark on your body that could cause you any future pain or harm, he will find it, and he will make sure that you are safe from whatever it has planned for you. He seems as though he is seeking out your pain in order to destroy it from being.

You close the distance between the two of you and take hold of his hands, pulling his body slowly into you until he’s wrapped in your arms. Pain seers through you, every inch of your skin lighting up with the pain of the blood and bruises you earned in the week prior. Every instinct you have is begging you to flee. Your heart rate increases and you can feel your body desperately trying to pump what little adrenaline it has left to offer through you blood, but you disobey. You keep both arms wrapped tightly around his lean midsection and rest your head on his bare chest.

He hushes you then, letting the fragile tips of his fingers fall down the skin of your spine and trace the valleys of your vertebrae. “It’s okay.”

It certainly isn’t okay, the pain that’s shooting through your ribcage, but you say nothing. The feeling of Loki’s hands on you is like riches you haven’t had in ages. You won’t dare do anything to agitate him.

“Darling?”

You lean your chin on his chest, getting the chance to view his face lingering inches from yours.

“Tell me what bothers you” he urges, his eyes locked so intensely on yours that you have the urge to look away.

Instead, you pull away a bit so you can return the eye contact. “Nothing, Loki. I’m just exhausted.”

He presses a thumb into one of the bruises on your back, but he does so with so much care that the only sensation you feel is a gentle buzz. “Tired and soaked in black and blue.”

He’s absolutely relentless. Although there’s a voice nagging at you in the back of your mind every time you come home like this, the magnetic feeling that pulls you to him is so much stronger. You’re a used-up tool to everyone you work for. There’s no doubt you can get the job done, and get it done well. You’re their perfect beast, the creature that’s so vile and vicious that it can kill just about anything that needs to be killed. It’s an existence quite similar to drowning.

Loki, somehow, through all of the blood and tears, gnashing teeth and nights you lie awake feeling like a monster, manages to navigate the waters that suffocate you. Whether you’re lost together in the downpours of pleasure and lips and sheets that you too often find yourselves in, or you’re simply asleep together on the couch, Loki becomes a person you don’t often get to see in your line of work. He opens up. He tells you stories of Asgard that you can barely believe, stories of magic and princes and beasts that have ever only had homes in your imagination. He sings to you in Norse that you only understand in your soul. It makes you feel otherworldly. Somehow, Loki’s words and touch make you feel just as celestial as he is.

The thought of losing that sensation is enough to bring tears burning at your eyes.

You bring a hand up to push some of the hair from his face. “I’m gross. Let’s take a shower.”

He smiles, leaning in to press a small kiss to your forehead. “Anything for you, my beloved.”

He assists you in removing the rest of your clothing before stripping himself the rest of the way. If you had just the slightest tighter hold on yourself, you wouldn’t be able to resist the pull of his gorgeous body. Every piece of him has been explored in excess by your hands, your mouth, but you still crave to reclaim the territory. You haven’t been able to resist him since the first time you had him.

He guides you under the flow of the warm water with gentle hands and slow feet. When it comes time for you to put your head and face under the faucet, he holds his hand above you momentarily to shield you from the water.

You trace the indigo veins on the inside of his elbow. “Loki?”

He brings the hand closer to to your face, trailing the back of his finger down your cheek as the warm water finally washes over your face.

“I apologize” he tells you. “I know you’re entirely capable of caring for yourself, but something about taking care of you makes me feel like a better man.”

Your chest goes heavy again. This man, oh God, this man.

What you would give to be able to love him the way you dream to.

“Yeah?” you begin, trying to keep your voice airy and teasing. “Only taking care of me to keep me limber and healthy for you?”

A noise that you can only describe as a purr crawls up from his from chest.

“Oh, my darling” he croons, leaning down into the flow of water with you and placing his lips on your neck. “I’d give the world to see you well enough to ravage right now.”

Your skin prickles just a bit, your thighs rubbing together to ease the tension. “You’re a dog, Loki Odinson.”

“Yes perhaps, but I’m your dog” he mumbles into your skin.

You let him lavish your neck in kisses, feeling his smooth lips sail across your aching skin in a feeble attempt to heal your wounds. You know there’s now way his touch is fixing any of your bruises, but there’s a little part of your brain that believes he can chase the blood back into your veins.

You bring a hand up to cradle his now wet hair. “Are you my dog?” you question him. “No begging on other front porches when I go away?”

He pulls away from you then, reaching over your head for your soap that perches on the shelf behind you. “How could I do such a thing? No one could please me the way you do, my dear.”

You shift beneath his touch, a washcloth now gliding over your battered skin with Loki’s tender hand guiding it along. Pain shoots through you with every swipe despite his care, but there is little you can do. The blood and dirt must be removed from your skin. You can’t imagine going to bed so filthy, so all you can do is moan quietly as Loki passes over bruise after bruise.

“I’m so sorry” he mutters. “Would you like me to stop?”

You shake your head. “It has to hurt. I’m glad it’s you helping me.”

The washcloth in his hand moves to your belly where the bruising is the worst. You close your eyes so tightly that a headache comes as the pain washes through you. Memories of the week seem to flood over you like water as your heart begins to swell in your chest.

Loki places the cloth on the shelf, trading in the fabric for the touch of his hand when he notes your agony. The pain lessens greatly when you’re blessed by the feeling of his skin on yours.

“Who did this you?” he wonders. “How did this happen?”

You lean your face against his chest, trying to hide the look on your face that manifests the instant he mentions your wounds. You’ve been injured before, many times much worse than you are now, but there was something about this incident that you just can’t get out of your head.

“A lot of different things” you lie. “Really, Loki. I’m gonna be okay.”

“But you’re not okay now.”

Your knees weaken a bit below you. For all the times Loki is a carnal fool, a man of his desires that wants nothing more than to get you to bed as fast as possible, you log each sweet and tender moment like this in your mind to dig up later in times of need. Lately, he’s been giving you more and more of these moments to cling to.

You kiss his collarbone. “Loki…”

“Tell me” he urges you. “Tell me how you’ve been hurt.”

Tell me how you’ve been hurt.

There isn’t enough time left even in his long life.

You jump from your skin when you feel his hands enter your hair to scrub it with shampoo. You expect him to tease you a bit, but instead he just continues to work the soap into a lather on your pounding head.

“Loki?” you breathe again, nuzzling into his chest. “God, Loki what are you doing?”

What are you doing being the sun for me on days where the only thing I can feel is pain? What are you doing restarting my soul when it begs to stop, holding my body so sweetly that I can’t comprehend any of the wrongs I know for a fact you’ve done? What are you doing putting this ache in my heart, making me swoon for you only to scoop me up and make love to me so intimately that I dread the day I grow old and die, leaving you in this realm without me? What are you doing making me think you’ll care for me that long?

His hands stop dead in their tracks. “Washing your hair. Why? Does it hurt?”

It makes your chest burn like there’s an wildfire lit in your lungs. “No. No, it doesn’t hurt.”

He guides you back under the warm flow and begins to rinse the shampoo from your locks. “Good. You already look more like my angel.”

Your stomach flutters a bit with butterflies. Strange, a god looking at you and seeing an angel.

“Let me wash you up” you urge him once the suds are all washed from your hair. “I missed you.”

He grabs his own expensive soap that he insists on buying from where it sits beside yours, drizzling it onto a washcloth. “No” he tells you firmly. “Rest. Tell me about your week, if you can bare it.”

You grit your teeth a bit and shake your head. “Tell me about yours instead.”

He doesn’t argue, but he does draw his soap across a deep and prominent scar on his chest. You watch as the water and cleanser make it shine a bit. There’s an urge to reach your hand out and stroke it, but you refrain in favor of picking up your own conditioner.

You’ve learned that it’s best not to ask Loki too many questions about his wounds or his scars. He tells you things when he’s ready, when he feels like it will add something to the strange little relationship the two of you have. He’ll just retreat into himself if you try to push him. You’ve heard so many of his stories of learning to fight from his father or tussling and fighting with Thor. He’s lit up the night with tales of accidentally losing control of his magic when he was first learning. When he tells you those stories, stories about magic and his mother, he smiles like a little boy and allows himself to be playful with magic. You spend long nights laughing under makeshift forts of sheets and pillows in bed while he uses nothing but his hands and the extraordinary powers his mother taught him to spin stories for your enjoyment. It’s a different man from the one that cowers away when you so much as go near any of the scars he dreads one day having to tell you about.

He finishes rinsing off his milky skin, taking his shampoo and beginning to run his fingers through his hair.

You’d die just to reach your hands up and do it yourself. He doesn’t seem to notice.

“Darling” he begins, drawing your attention back to his lips. “You assume that I’m out in the world burning up a social scene when you’re not here. I hate to tell you this, but I’m certainly not.”

You run your conditioner-covered hands through your own hair. “I know that” you remind him, trying to stifle a giggle. “I mean, what do you sit around here and do when I’m gone? Do you even go out at all?”

There’s a moment of silence as he tilts his head back to run the water through his hair and over his face. You can’t tear your eyes off the column of his throat stretching, the wave of his hair cascading down behind him. It’s so hard to be away from someone so dear to you, but getting the chance to just stare at his astounding existence is enough to ease some of the pain.

He looks back to you once his face and head have been rinsed to satisfaction. “I do. Sometimes. Midgard isn’t particularly keen on me walking the streets by myself.”

You can’t count the amount of times that you’ve seen this fact proved true. People actively try to avoid Loki on the streets when the pass him by, crossing to the other side or lowering their gaze as though meeting his eyes may turn them to stone. Just a few months ago the two of you experienced an act of cruelty directed toward him while returning home from a simple walk.

"I think you should try buying clothes that are more casual” you tell him, reaching up to tug a bit on the tie fixed around his neck. “Maybe try pulling your hair up.”

He wrinkles his nose, looking down at you with eyebrows scrunched to the center of his forehead. “When I was a boy, my mother used to force us to braid and decorate and fiddle our hair for any event more important than a dinner with our family. Thor and I used to spend hours shoving each other from the mirror while trying to pull our hair back down. I will not be reliving the experience.”

Your hand sneaks up, tangling gently into the hair at the base of his neck. “Really, even for me? I bet you’d look handsome with your hair braided.”

Though a small bluish blush rises to his cheeks, he rolls his eyes. “Handsome with a headache.”

“Emphasis on handsome.”

He smiles at you. Though not one to be overly physical -or really, physical at all- in public, Loki removes your hand from his hair and gives it a tight squeeze.

Everything in you wants to keep holding his hand. It isn’t abnormal for the two of you to be seen out and about together. You were assigned his -as Tony would put it- Biblical Babysitter when he was first banished to Earth. You were in charge of following him everywhere he went to ensure he caused no trouble, so the world was used to the two of you being attached at the hip. Holding his hand, however, the public would surely take note of. It would be mere moments until your coworkers and bosses discovered the complicated truth.  

“Darling” he begins, stroking the back of your hand with his thumb. “I think that maybe this weekend you and I should-”

Loki sees the half-eaten apple hurtling towards your head before you do. He uses your hand that he holds to throw you behind him, the apple missing you by inches and exploding in a mess across the sidewalk.

“Jesus” you mutter. “Loki, what the hell-”

The next projectile to come your way is a barely-drunk soda. Loki isn’t so lucky to avoid it this time, the drink striking him in the shoulder and spilling cola down his shirt.  With the can comes a holler from in front of the two of you.

“Get out!” a man hollers, his car keys held like daggers in one hand while is other is raised in a tight fist. “Get out of our city!”

Loki stands as solid as an oak between you and the attacker, curling his arm back so to hold you firm against his back.

The man begins to advance on the two of you, onlookers beginning to mumble and back away to form a sort of circle around the scene. Though Loki seems steady, standing his ground, you can feel the faintest tilt of his feet.

“You” the apple-thrower growls, shoving a finger up into Loki’s face. “You, would look a lot better hurtling yourself off the top of the Empire State Building with a sack of bricks on your back. You have no right.”

Loki grips your shirt in his fist. “Well” he begins with a lick of his trademark attitude dripping from his lips. “I’ve already fallen from that dreadful Stark Tower a few years back. A shame you missed a display you seem so interested in.”

The finger shoved in Loki’s face becomes a fist. You take a glance behind you, the onlookers beginning to pull out their phones and film. Some are even smiling and pointing.  A heat begins to rise in your blood, red-hot tension flowing into your extremities and balling your hands into fists. You’re an Avenger, for God’s sake.

What in the world are you doing cowering behind Loki?

The man before Loki jerks his other hand up then, jamming the key held in his fist just beneath the soft underside of Loki’s chin. The crowd gasps, but your beloved doesn’t so much as flinch.

“Ooo” Loki purrs. “Keys. I have truly been bested now.”

The metal of one of the keys digs up into the pale flesh. “Don’t get smart” the attacker warns as a bit of Loki’s blood flows down on his fist. “What are you gonna do? Kill me? Kill me like the monster everyone standing here knows you are?”

The metallic smell of Loki’s blood hits your nose then. The coil of heat that’s been steadily building in your chest bursts all too soon, and in an instant, you’ve spun around Loki and grabbed the man hard on the wrist.

His keys tumble to the cement as the crowd gives another gasp. You pay them no mind. The only thing you can focus on is twisting the man’s arm hard enough behind his back to inflict as much pain as you can without breaking it.

Loki watches with an apathetic expression, his hands folding behind his back. “I believe, sir, that we’re done here.”

The mumbling of the crowd has reached a startling rate, and when you shove the man down to the ground and release him at last, there’s a mix of boos and cheers from those around you.

“Sir” you begin as he looks up at you. “I’m an agent of SHIELD, he’s in protective custody, and the last thing I want to do is arrest someone today.”  

How dare someone treat your Loki like this. There’s little you can do to protect both your job as an agent and your relationship with Loki, but something about twisting this man’s shoulder back as far as it will go helps the calm the blaze that’s been burning in you nonstop as of late.

By the time the two of you reach your apartment, the blood flow from his chin has stopped, but the heat in your veins has not. He notices your agitation the instant you grab his wrist just a little too hard to lead him into the bathroom to clean his minuscule wound.

"My darling” he begins, doing as you insist of him and hoisting himself up onto the counter’s edge. “Tell me.”

That’s just what the two of you do when one of you isn’t yourself.

‘Tell me.’

It’s just easier, particularly for Loki, to ask this question. No specifics and no deep questions leave an open-ended opportunity for the two of you to discuss whatever you need to. Even if something completely unrelated to the sour mood that prompted the question is bugging one of you, ‘tell me’ is an open door to get it all out in the open.

You place a gentle finger beneath his chin and tilt his head back. “Someone hurt you. I’m pissed off.”

Of all things, he gives you a small giggle. “Oh darling, this is nothing. I’m not hurt. I’m just a little irritated by the delay in tonight’s plans.”

He flinches away from your hand when you rub a bit of antiseptic underneath his chin. “I get it, Loki. I just don’t think it’s fair that someone can get away with harassing and assaulting you in the streets.”

“I haven’t been assaulted” he assures you. “Again darling, I’m just annoyed.”

Though the tiny wound on his skin is already beginning to heal, you pull him close so you can place a kiss on the spot. The laugh he gives you echoes through your lips and into your head.

“I’m sorry” you mumble. “I don’t mean to treat you like you’re weak. I just can’t imagine losing you again.”

You nuzzle your nose in his neck then, unable to look him in the eyes. The tears are back and burning like acid gathering up in your eyes. Though you rarely let Loki see you like this -especially when your emotions are directed towards him- you feel like your chest is about to crack in two from the pressure of your grief.

Loki places a gentle hand on the back of your head, hushing you. “You won’t lose me again, my love.”

You huff a half-hearted laugh into his neck. “Your love?”

“Of course” he snorts as he pulls you from your scrunched position. “Is there someone else in front of me in line to be yours?”

Though the tears that were gathering up in your eyes have begun to stream down your cheeks, you smile.

“Nope” you tell him. “No one else. I uh…wow. Loki, I love you.”

He cocks an eyebrow, but it’s impossible to miss the tiny bit of blue blush on his cheeks. “Do you?”

“Disgusting, right?”

He laughs -a real laugh that comes from his belly and shakes the expanse of his chest- before kissing the top of your head. “Even more vile still, it seems.”

“Why is that?”

“I love you as well, I’m afraid.”

“Darling?”

Two hands reach forward to cradle your face. You flinch away, and although Loki allows you to back away, his eyebrows are scrunched together and his eyes are wide.

He reaches to turn off the flow of water. “My love, are you feeling alright?”

Cold floods your body the instant the warm water is taken away. Your bones begin to tremble even more wildly than they already were, muscles tightening against the sensation.

Loki reaches for you once again, but doesn’t allow his skin to touch yours. “May I touch you? We should get you warm.”

Your hands meet with his between your bodies. “Jesus. Loki, I’m sorry. I’m just so exhausted.”

He steps from the shower then, leading you behind him. Every single step he takes is slow and meaningful. He watches your feet, ensuring you trip over nothing as he grabs a towel off the back of the door and wraps it around your shoulders.

There’s no need for him to be so careful, and you’re sure he knows that, but you don’t say anything as he begins to dry your skin.

“I know” he assures you. “You need rest and water.”

You nod. “Maybe some tea?”

He wraps a towel around his own waist, giving you yet another smile. “Anything for you, darling.”

The two of you finish drying off, Loki slipping you into your most comfortable night clothes and dressing himself before fleeing into the kitchen.

When you’re sure he’s gone, you allow yourself to collapse into bed and cover your face with your hands.

It’s been days since you’ve slept, maybe closing in on a week. There’s been nothing but cold, hard cement, bullets coming your way, and the unforgiving steel of a knife sliding into your abdomen. The wound is littered with intense bruising and disgusting scabbing. You’re shocked Loki didn’t attempt to burn the world down right then and there when he saw it.

You reach down to where the wound sits on your stomach, but you don’t touch. Despite the doctors telling you it wasn’t infected and that it didn’t hit anything too important, the ache and burn are still hellish. You’ll have to build a pillow wall between Loki and yourself to keep him from rolling onto it overnight. He won’t like it, will most likely pout and sneak his hand under the pillows to brush his fingers against your skin. It’s the only thing that will help you survive being so close, but being unable to snuggle into him.  

The smell of chamomile fills your nostrils just as Loki sneaks back through the door. He does his best to keep his footfalls light, gliding across the floor like the god he is as he sets you teacup down on the bedside table.

“You don’t look comfortable” he observes, brushing his fingers along your knee that hangs from the edge of your bed. “Is there anything else I can do to-”

His words stop so abruptly that you tilt your head up to find what has stopped him. Instead of looking down on you with soft eyes tinged on the edges with worry, his brows are furrowed to the center of his forehead as he stares at your stomach.

“What is that?” he demands then, his voice dropping. “What is that wound from?”

You shrink away from the intensity dripping from his lips. In all the time you’ve known him -from the moment you first met as he was virtually led to you in chains like a vicious animal being released from it’s cage for the first time, to moments before leaving for your latest mission when he held you like he couldn’t bare to let you go- you’ve never feared that Loki would hurt you. It moments of intensity such as these, you only fear he’s going to work himself into stress, pain, and nightmares as he sorts through emotions he’s never been allowed to confront before.

You stop him as he reaches for the wound. “It’s nothing” you lie, stroking the back of his hand with your thumb. “Really bad bruising, probably got shot in my vest.”

His nostrils flare. “This is a cut. You do not get a cut from bullets.”

“Loki-”

“Did someone stab you?”

The silence that falls over the room is so thick that your head wells up with pressure. No one speaks, no one moves, no one even breathes. Loki can’t look at you. He just continues staring down at your stomach, his hands hovering above the wound like there’s some barrier keeping him from your pain.

“Loki” you breathe. “I’m fine. You’ve seen me hurt before.”

He doesn’t even flinch. His eyes, normally dancing with light and glints of trouble, have dulled. The only sheen they have is from what look like tears beginning to well up in his lower lids.

You sit up then. When you do, and your wound ventures a tad closer to his outstretched hands, he leaps back as though you would melt away at his touch.

“Loki” you begin for the third time. “Are you gonna cry? Holy shit, Loki, please don’t cry. I swear that this isn’t a big deal.”

He looks up into your eyes then, his head seeming to break out of the fog he entered when he saw your wounds. You expected tears to be sliding down his cheeks, but they don’t come. The gleam across his irises isn’t from tears.

It’s from the red beginning to overwhelm the ocean blue.

It wasn’t often that Loki showed you his blue skin and red eyes. The first time he did, you barely even remember. You’d been cut terribly on a mission, but in your early days with SHIELD and still insecure about your place in their ranks, you said nothing about the severity of the wound. An infection burst into your bloodstream just a few days later, and after a week of fevers and sickness, the grim reaper was looming just outside your hospital door. Desperate to do something to get you back, Loki had resorted to pulling you into his lap, letting all his veils of magic fall away, and letting his chilled skin cool yours until your fever broke and your blood was able to clean.

He stayed with you until you were out of the hospital. He cared for you at your home until you were well again, and when you felt the strength return to your bones, you resumed your nightly habit of crawling into his bed and ravishing his body with yours.

The only difference was when the passion ended and the room fell silent of all but the weighty gasps of your breath, Loki pulled you into his chest and fell fast asleep with you in his arms instead of watching you pull your clothes back on and vanish into the night.

You were addicted the moment you heard his soft snoring echoing through his bedroom. It was only then that you realized you could have left Loki at any moment. There was nothing tying you to this routine but the craving you had for the pleasure he laid upon you. You could have made your life simple and clean by abandoning his sheets and never returning, but it was too late.

You had only realized it after you fell in love with him.

Now you’re tied to him by the undeniable enchantment he has on you.

It’s that love that urges you to take his face in your hands and run your thumbs over his rapidly cooling cheeks.

“Loki” you breathe, watching with an ever increasing heart rate as his eyes flood red. “Let’s lie down. Let’s just go to-”

You hands fall into your lap as Loki stands up and turns away from you. The shattering of your heart is instantaneous. You stare down into your hands, unable to look up at your pacing lover without tears brimming your eyes.

“Why did you not tell me that someone had stabbed you?” he demands, still turned toward the window. “You said you were ‘a little beat up’, not stabbed.”

You don’t have an answer for him. This surely isn’t the worst injury you’ve ever had, but Loki is right when he says that it’s probably the worst condition that he’s seen you in besides your infection all those months ago. You just never think of anything less than a hospitalization as any big news.

You shrug, a bit of pain shooting through your shoulders. “The doctors told me it’s okay. I didn’t think it was a bigger deal than any of my other cuts or bruises.”

His fist is curling and uncurling at his side, filling vaguely with blue every time it flexes before fading back to it’s usual pale cream. You can see even from just his back that his breath is edging close to heaving.

“Who stabbed you?” he commands as though he hasn’t heard what you said. “Who did this to you?”

You don’t need this. Loki doesn’t need this.

“Loki-”

“Tell me.”

The devil is back, and you’ve angered him.

A few painful seconds of silence drag by. He stops making fists and breathing like he’s run a mile, but he doesn’t dare look at you.

You stare down into your cut and calloused hands. “Natasha killed him.”

“Who is him?”

You bury your head in your hands then and take a deep, steadying breath.

The mission wasn’t supposed to go the way that it did. It was meant to be a quick in-and-out affair, arrest a terrorism associate and leave, but he had been more heavily guarded than expected. No matter what strength your body held, you were overcome the instant you split from the group.

You nearly swing a punch when Loki’s hand came down on your wrist. Gasping, you look up to find much softer eyes than before gazing down at you.

“Darling” he begins, his voice still slightly tinged with impatient and anger. “Please, tell me everything.”

You don’t want to relive the week. When you close your eyes again, the only thing you can feel is the scrape and kick of steel-toed boots against your gut, the chains on your wrists holding you to the ceiling, that cold entrance of a simple kitchen knife sliding under your ribs in a final attempt to keep Natasha from rescuing you.

You don’t look up from your hands, but Loki moves his hand to your shoulder. “Darling?”

“I got picked up right when we got in” you mumble, shaking your head to try and hide the tremor that had taken hold of the rest of your body. “They only had me for a few days, Loki. I’m here, I’m recovering. It really isn’t a big deal.”

Loki has gone back to his cool and collected self in the face of your experience. Though you swear you can see the edges of his eyes still tinged with red, your heart slows with every gentle stroke of his hand.

He moves to pull the blanket at the foot of your bed up and around your shoulders. “Have you seen a doctor for this wound? Do I need to speak with Stark?”

At that, you let out a snorting laugh. “And what would you tell Tony?” you wonder, then trying your best to imitate Loki’s voice. “Oh hey Tony, I’ve been sleeping with your bounty hunter and I’m pretty pissed about that little stabbing incident.”

He can’t help but let the corners of his lips tip up. “You exist to infuriate me.”

You raise an eyebrow. “What are you gonna do? Stab me?”

A booming laugh breaks out into the room, something you aren’t used to hearing from Loki. He pulls you against his chest so you can feel the way his joy vibrates his body. The act welcomes you to nuzzle against him, bury your nose in the dip of his chest and let your own gentle laughs shake your battered and bruised form.

When his laughter subsides, he lays his chin on the top of your head. “I do not mean to push you” he promises with a press of his lips into your hair. “Every mission you come back to me with more and more wounds. I’m starting to worry that the day will come when you don’t return to me at all.”

The heavy silence from before returns then. Neither of you dare move a muscle, but you have to close your eyes to keep the tears that are welling up from falling.

“Loki” you begin, pulling away from him and tapping the bed. “Lay with me.”

You swing your legs over the edge of the bed to situate yourself, but Loki doesn’t follow. He just keeps his hands on your hips and fidgets idly with the hem of your shirt. The fallen look has not left his face, and although you want nothing more than to pull him into you and smother him in your love, you resist.

“I’m tired, Loki” you urge him. “Please.”

He shakes his head. “I will more than happily sleep on the couch” he tells you. “If I roll onto you, I will hurt you.”

The pounding of your heart picks up again, and though he shows no sign of actually trying to leave the room, you grab onto his wrist and hold tight.

“Don’t leave” you mumble. “Please. I’ve been sleeping on concrete floors and tied to radiators for two weeks. I need you.”

The silence cuts through you worse than the blade of your enemy did. Loki’s eyes dart about the room, focusing on anything but you as you worry his index finger in the palm of your hand.

“Please” you whisper again. “I’m so tired.”

At last, Loki surrenders to you. He guides you until you’re in bed on your back, pain burning down your entire abdomen even after your body goes still. You want to cry out, reach your hand to cover the blinding ache from the world, but you resist. The last thing you want to do is scare Loki back to the couch.

When you seem properly swaddled beneath the comforter, Loki slowly slides in beside you. On any other night, he’d wrap his strong arms around you and pull you up onto his chest. Tonight, he lies beside you still as a board.

“Loki” you whine. “I feel like I’m lying next to a cadaver.”

He rolls his head over to look at you, black strands of hair falling into his mouth. “I assure you my beloved, I’m very much alive and breathing.”

You grab onto his hand and tangle his chilled fingers in yours. “I meant, you’re just lying there on your back staring at the ceiling. I’m not saying we should rewrite the Kama Sutra, but you could hold me a little.”

He laughs a bit then, rolling onto his side and placing a large hand over where the beat of your heart is strongest. “I will never understand you. One second you’re begging me to sleep beside you with tears in your eyes, and the next you’re speaking of sex.”

You shrug, ignoring the pain it brings you in favor of running your fingers up and down the soft underside of Loki’s arm. “I didn’t see you for two weeks. I missed sleeping next to you and having sex with you.”

This time, the laugh you elicited from Loki was gentle and soft. It filled your chest with such a warmth that the aches on your body felt as though they may begin to ease.

“You are brutish, and rude, and all mine. I’ve missed everything about you” he tells you, taking your waist gently in his hands as he shifts his body to lie beside yours.

You turn your head until you can narrow your eyes at him.  “What romantic talk when we haven’t seen each other in two weeks, Loki” you tease him.

He kisses your temple. “Only the sweetest words for you, my beloved.”

You let the giggling between the two of you die down as you snuggle closer to him. He isn’t the warmest body to lie next to, but you’ve gotten used to feeling the chill that comes off of him whenever you cuddle. It’s just so Loki.

It’s strange really, the way things about Loki have become the greatest comforts in your life. There was a time when you’d have Loki’s head on a silver platter, and now you can’t even go on a small two week mission without your bones aching every time you make the mistake of imagining him.

Lying beside him with your skin on his, your heart doesn’t race. Your bones don’t tense and poise with the constant urge to be ready to strike or run. Your eyelids even begin to drift closed as you let the song of the crickets outside merge into perfect harmony with Loki’s breath beside your ear. There’s no where on Earth that makes you feel this way. You’ve never felt your body so loose and prepared for rest.

“Darling” Loki whispers, rousing you a bit from the bliss that had settled over your muscles. “Your tea is getting cold.”

Only then do you register the sweet smell of chamomile wafting around the are of your bed. You breathe it in, letting the herbal mist flood your nose and tongue.

“It smells good” you tell him matter-of-factly, not bothering to move or open up your eyes.

He sighs, sitting up then and placing his hands beneath your back. “Sit up, dear” he prompts you. “Drinking your tea will settle your stomach and help you rest easier.”

You groan, but the protest is half hearted as Loki hands you the warm cup and settles back against the headboard. You let the gentle smell cover your senses before you lift the cup to your lips and take that warm first sip. A small hum leaves your lips without permission.

“Good?” Loki wonders.

You nod. “Everything you give me is good.”

“It’s just tea” he reminds you despite the small smile on his face. “A simple gesture.”

A simple gesture. Lately, Loki has been offering you quite a few simple gestures, and somehow each one makes the same warmth flood over every bone and muscle fiber beneath your skin. Loki is a God. He has no business running your dishwasher or preparing your coffee in the morning, and yet there hasn’t been a dirty dish or groggy sunrise in months. He reaches for you in small ways that no one ever has before, and every folded piece of laundry and midnight snack brought to your office makes you feel like he’s just handed you the universe. It matters not how simple the gesture is when it comes to Loki. Whenever he acts to evoke joy from you, your soul responds in turn.

You draw the cup away from your lips and allow the warmth of the porcelain to cover your hands and lap. “You’ve been doing a lot of simple gestures for me lately” you tell him. “Starting to think I might be rounding out your edges.”

He huffs so hard he nearly snorts. “Yes, a bounty hunter is just what I need to smooth out my sharp bits.”

On another night, you’d give him a decent punch to the shoulder, but all you can muster is a bump of your hip against his. “I’m serious. Don’t think I didn’t notice that the place is sparkling clean and someone ordered my favorite coffee online.”

He turns his head away from you then, giving a slight shrug of his shoulders. “I used your credit card to buy the coffee.”

You roll your eyes, but your smile can’t be missed. “I figured, but you still went out of your way to order it so I would have some when I got home. Knowing the things that make my life easier and then actually doing them is…”

Is what?

Is something that lovers do for each other? Is something you do when you live with your partner and know them like the back of your mind? Is something you do when you love someone?

“Is…?”

You shrug. “It’s nice.”

Another silence falls over the two of you then.

It is nice, but both of you can feel it, the way that nice is rapidly becoming not enough. It’s been three years since the two of you were together for the first time. You truly thought that that time would be the one and only, and each time after that you told yourself no more, no more, no more no matter how nice.

You never wanted nice to become something disappointing. Sure, the sex was nice. It was routine and pleasant and intimate. You always fell asleep sated and warm, but it only took a few minutes each night for that feeling to turn into a magnetic pull that wanted nothing more than, well, more.

You want to tell him that when you look into his eyes you see the expanse of the universe in their color. You want to say that there is no distance -not to Asgard or Jotunheim or Hel- that could keep you from dreaming of his embrace. You want to apologize for making him wait twenty of your lifetime to have you.

“Loki.”

He gives you a gentle squeeze. “Yes darling?”

You settle deeper into the curve of his body, letting all your stiff muscles release a bit.

“What’s gonna happen to us?” you mutter, burying your face into his side. “I mean, in like thirty years when I start to get old.”

Loki runs his hand up your back so he can trail a finger down the vertebrae in your neck. Though his hand is steady and his icy touch is familiar, there’s something different about this touch. He hesitates, not putting the usual confident pressure that he normally has down on your skin.

“I enjoy that you believe I’ll still be a part of your life in thirty years.”

Your heart is beating so hard that you swear he can hear it. “Well, if this is, you know, more serious than we’ve been saying, I don’t know how I feel about growing old when you’ll still look like that when I die of old age.”

He leans his head back on the headboard, contenting himself with running his hand over the skin of your neck and back. It takes a while for him to speak. If your heart wasn’t slamming into your ribs, making the rushing of your blood audible, you might even fall asleep in Loki’s arms.

“Darling” he begins at last. “In seventy years when you are old, and wrinkled, and ready to pass from this life into the halls of your ancestors, my only regret will be not giving you more in the life I had with you.”

Your body seems to activate some fight or flight response when the tears stream down your cheeks right before Loki’s eyes. You want to run. Your blood rushes with a small burst of adrenaline that whispers terrors in your ear, but your ignore it. Loki just won’t take his sweet, cerulean gaze off you.

“I love you” he tells you. “I’ve never loved in the way I love you, and if that means I spend the last years of your life caring for you before you leave me to rest, it will be my greatest honor.”

A sob chokes its way up from your throat. You grab onto him so tightly that you fear you’ll sink right beneath his godly skin. He doesn’t judge you. He doesn’t ask you an questions. He just holds you. It’s as though he knows that if he lets you go, you’ll fall to pieces in your bed.

“Stay with me forever” he whispers, laying his lips against the crown of your head. “No matter whose ‘forever’ ends first.”

Your heart constricts at the thought of ever losing Loki, but you say nothing. Being together while you can be, being this twisted version of a ‘couple’ while your body will allow is enough for now.

It has to be.

[sysig]

Clash of sensibilities (Patreon)

[batz]

painted my room green purple n black yayyy now i can Unpack and hang posters up

[juniperberries-canisroot]

Prints from @arnaerr arrived whooo!