#i dress to the female gaze what can i say | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

jaegerbby · 7 months

Text

➳ inculpatus

--͙[satoru gojo x female! reader]-͙-

╰┈➤ word count; 5800

╰┈➤ rundown; satoru is everything you want and more, it is time you gave him a little more of you.

╰┈➤ caution; virgin! reader (also described as having small breasts), established relationship, corruption kink, cunninglingus, size kink, cum eating, ball sucking (?), handjob, dry humping, fingering.

not proof read!

he is pretty, way too pretty for you to think properly.

"can i suck your dick?" satoru flinches once the words leave your mouth. he is perched on the quaint white sofa in your apartment and maybe you should not have spoken so loosely because his eyes slightly widen as he turns to you.

"sorry! it's just... you haven't tried anything with me." you unsurely speak, avoiding his gaze. satoru is respectful, overly so. you thought inviting him to your place would at least give him a hint without you having to spell it out for him.

sky blue eyes flit over your features before he licks his lips. they are so pink they look doll like. "i don't want to push you." he pauses. "because you're a virgin." while he does not admit it, it undeniably makes him hard.

"i'm not ready for sex but other things." you trail off, "you can do other things with me."

he jaggedly nods, his head feels dizzy after hearing you say he can have his way with you. "i'll do anything you want."

you perk up immediately.

"how do i get it hard?" he follows your gaze as you focus on his crotch. where the grey fabric of his pants are futile in concealing his bulge.

you are too cute. satoru surges forward to press soft wet kisses to the right of your neck before shifting to give the left the same treatment.

your breath picks up at his proximity, you feel the softness of his hair but it is a lot different in this atmosphere.

his large palm cups along your jaw. "you don't have to do anything. i could look at you and my cock gets so hard it hurts. it's worse cause these clothes are so skimpy." his gaze has darkened now, your mouth feels sticky with spit and your stomach turns in an unfamiliar way.

he grips your wrist to bring your hand onto his stiffened erection. "feel that?" he urges your touch along him, it feels hard, long and hot. so hot.

it does not take long before you are caressing him without any assistance, he puffs air into your face. "i didn't make a move cause i didn't want to scare you but i wanted to touch you. whenever you leaned over i saw your titties, i saw how small they are and your puffy nipples. got such cute tits, babe, wanted to suck on them so bad, would you like that?" you mewl at his low voice, his thumb strokes over your bottom lip.

"toru." his expression looks almost pained at how airy you sound, your voice is sexed out already. when you call him like that how is he supposed to stay sane?

he tugs the straps of your vest down, you practically writhe like a cock is in you as your breasts are revealed. you squeeze along his length, your little hand working him despite your lack of experience.

"i want to lick them up, see how much you squirm or if you'd cum from that alone. just from your little tits getting sucked" he paws at your chest, there is barely a handful for him to grope.

he tweaks your nipples, his eyes narrowing and his tongue flicking over his lip. he is so close you can see the sky within his eyes, the thickness of his lashes and the blush along his skin.

"you didn't wear a bra, what about panties? what kind do you wear, ones with little bows, pink, white? what's a virgin like you into? you keep your tight cunt covered in cute ones or do you dress her like a whore?" you moan at the vulgarity, your forehead leaning on his while you lose your bearings.

your pussy is a soaking mess and if you could, you would press your thighs together to relieve the ache that is building up the longer satoru invades your space.

your insides clench and clamp down, they feel like they are begging for something. satoru tugs your hand away from his heady cock and you whine.

"why don't you show me? show me what you have under those slutty shorts." he pinches at your nipple hard enough to make you wince, his teeth flashing as he smiles. he looks so pretty, far too perfect to be real.

your palm slowly strokes your pussy over your shorts, satoru's eyes hold yours before they flit down to look at you touch yourself.

his hands reach for your waist, bunching up in the fabric of your vest. he is so big and strong, his muscles flex and pulse. your fingers prod the waist band, biting your lip as you slip further in.

the soft skin of your pussy meets your fingers and the wetness pooling from your slit drenches them after. it is hot and syrupy. he can see bare skin where your hand keeps the fabric pulled taunt.

"i didn't wear any. cause you'd be here. i thought about you seeing my pussy through my shorts. did you, toru? when i answered the door or when i sat down did you see it?" he groans, rolling his head against yours.

you stroke down your slit, you are wetter than usually. you are so much wetter now than when you are touching yourself to the thought of him.

"you're driving me crazy. yeah i saw it. i saw your little cunt. you need to be careful, i'll start thinking you're telling me to take your pussy when you do things like this." you face contorts, satoru's hand trailing along your sides and his voice sounds like a wet dream come through.

you pump the underside of your fingers along your swollen opening. "i am, toru. it's already yours." your voice is all shaky and you do not sound like yourself at all.

you are all whiny and borderline desperate. you sound like you need to get fucked. you hurriedly tug your hand away to grip his face and press your mouth to his.

the slick from your fingers taints his skin and you hardly know how to kiss but satoru tilts his head to deepen it. he is a good kisser but you knew that already, you have kissed him before but never this exposed, never with this palpable tension.

he hums into your mouth, his hand cupping your throat as his tongue glides over yours. you feel like the saliva pools in your mouth, you suck on his bottom lip then you kiss him harder.

your fingers pull on his hair, your teeth gnashing. it is open mouthed and desperate. the kiss is all wet and sloppy and any time either of you pull back the other chases.

the other pushes forward to keep your mouths connected. wet smacks fill the room, his tongue claims every part of your mouth it already has and when you both lean back your chest is heaving

"fuck, oh fuck." you pant and your fists tangle in his shirt to pull him back in, your lips glide along satoru's, spit swapping and your cunt aching the more you kiss him.

you think you might give him your virginity this very moment.

his thumb strokes your throat, using his grip to draw you closer. your entire body is vibrating, you feel like every neurone in your system is firing off.

you whine, your mouth leaving his with a sticky smacking noise. "i think m'losing it." you breathlessly mutter, satoru drags his finger along your lips, smearing the saliva across the swollen flesh.

"i am too, you shouldn't have let me touch you. i won't be able to stop." you look so innocent, yet your hair is all messed up, your lips are puffy from kissing so aggressively, your cute little boobs are exposed and your pussy is so insanely wet, there is a wet patch through your shorts.

it drives satoru insane, how can you look like sin incarnate and still have innocence all over your face.

"i don't want you to stop." he groans at your admission, you need to stop before he is too far gone. you need to stop before satoru starts thinking about how the inside of your tight virgin pussy will feel. all hot, gooey and sticky. he just knows your leaky little fuck hole would take his shape so well.

he leans in to peck your lips, satoru needs to stop thinking. "m'not letting you suck my cock." you stare at him in disappointment. why are you doing that? satoru has half a mind to stick his cock in one of your holes and you are making it far too difficult not to.

his hands caress your hair, smoothening it down before he cups your face. he wants to bite your pouty lips and never stop kissing them at the same time.

"not today, not gna slip my cock in your tight baby throat and feel all those little muscles gripping me, no cause i want to eat up your pussy instead. i want to taste how sweet you are and stick my tongue in that virgin hole." your fingers paw at his body, feeling his hard stiff muscles beneath them. he tugs off your vest and you lay back as he reaches for the waist band of your shorts.

a deep sound rumbles in his chest when the material peels away from your cunt and he sees it for the first time.

"c'mon didn't you want me to see? spread your legs." and you do, without any fanfare. satoru's large palms coax along the back of your thighs before he cups under your knees to keep you open for his prying eyes. satoru wonders how long you had been thinking about showing him your hot sticky pussy.

he wishes you showed him sooner but he might have lost it since then. your cunt is dripping with slick, it leaks down your hole to your ass. you look all pink inside satoru wants to see it stretched around him, he wants to feel you gripping his cock and milking him dry.

"got such a pretty pussy, i'm lucky, so fucking lucky. my pretty girl is so gorgeous. look at this messy little hole, she's so wet, fuck." the tips of his fingers trail along your slit, collecting your wetness before he rolls your stiff clit. you jolt as he strokes your bundle of nerves. the mewl that escapes you is borderline pornographic.

he leans over to lap at your lips and then he is shoving his tongue in your mouth to roughly kiss you. his entire body is between your legs, he covers you completely. he is so big it makes you ditzy. he is hard and muscular all over.

when he is on you like this, all you can think about is how easily he could fuck you, it is all you want. you want him pounding into your pussy until you are brainless. he is so close he could take you right now if he pleased.

your hands tangle in his hair, trailing down his jaw and neck before you squeeze his broad shoulders. satoru moans into your mouth, propping his arm beside your head to crowd over you more.

your hips stuttering as he rubs your clit harder. you feel his bulge hitting the back of your thigh, hot on your skin beneath his clothes. you want to see it, you want to touch it.

"toru, i want to see you" a growl rumbles in his throat and he licks into your mouth. "take it off, please" you tug at his shirt, he does not want to stop kissing you. his expression is pained as he pulls away, hurriedly yanking off his shirt to reveal his narrow waist and the muscles all over his body.

you giggle when he shoves his pants down and almost falls over. he climbs onto you with an embarrassed smile on his face and blush coating his cheeks. "you laughing at me?" you hum. "cause you're cute and i like you." you brush the long hair away from of his forehead and wrap your legs around his narrow waist to tug him in.

when his covered erection meets your slit you both breathe heavily. "why didn't you take these off?" your finger prods the waistband of his boxers. your eyes are on his, the same ones that look like every sunny sky is held within them.

"i don't trust myself to not fuck you. if i take them off, you won't be a virgin for much longer." you shiver beneath him. that does not sound like a threat, it sounds like the solution to everything.

like something you need to keep breathing. satoru is big, every muscle in his body is defined, you can trace each one with your eyes. his shoulders, his abs, his biceps. you want to see how they flex and bulge when he is losing himself in your cunt. how they will pulse when he is fucking you.

he gropes your breasts, his tongue laving over your nipple before he sucks down on the perked flesh. your legs jerk when he thrusts his hips into yours. your stomach feels tight, you feel like there are too many butterflies within the small space.

your pussy leaks so much liquid it drenches the front of his boxers, it only makes it easier for him to hump away with your pussy. his bulky thighs are warm as they press into the back of yours to hold you open. satoru pants into your skin, you can see the ripple of his back muscles as he fucks his hips.

there are wet smacks of his cock colliding with your cunt, this alone feels so good, you know it would feel a million times better if he was actually fucking you. you want him to have you, you want the real thing. it turns your brain to mush, makes your cunt ache and your tummy tremble.

he is breathless when he kisses you, it is hard and sloppy. almost as hard as his cock grinding against you. it is thick and long, you want to have it in your hand, down your throat, inside you.

you never thought depravity would ruin you like this but it does and it is okay because satoru is the only one you will get like this for.

his hands desperately grip your cheeks and jaw. you moan as he pulls back to slam his hips particularly hard. hard enough to make your body jerk and your back arch.

"i want to eat you out. i need your pussy in my mouth, need to know how you taste." you whine, your nails dig into his nape, thighs squeezing on either side of his hips.

"anything, toru. anything you want." you mewl. the friction on your pussy has your head in a mess, more of a mess than the slick leaking from your untouched hole.

he presses his stuttering hips flush to yours, his hefty length digging into your cunt. "you don't know how much i thought about this, i used to rub my dick raw when i thought about getting my mouth on you. my tongue in you, wanted to smell and taste your pussy so bad."

he slowly kisses down your sternum, hands trailing over the heat his lips leave in their wake. his palms are so wide, just one spans your waist. just one covers the plane of your stomach. his mouth seems to water the closer he gets to your sex.

you tug your legs to your chest, your hands folded and resting over your mouth. you tense when satoru presses his nose into your slick and nudges the flesh. it is embarrassing, even after all you did, it makes you more flustered than you can explain.

"you smell like heaven, baby. fuck don't ever keep this cunt away from me." his tongue flicks out to lave over your buzzing clit and your eyes shut tightly. it is when he reaches your dripping hole does your body stiffen the most.

your toes curl as he licks you greedily, sucking at the sodden flesh. it is like he does not want to stop. he presses further, his tongue flattening over the expanse of your pussy as he licks it entirely.

"fuck, babe. your pussy's too perfect." his eyes flick upwards, they are blown out and predatory. he spreads your lips before wetly spitting a thick glob into you.

he drags it along your slit before plunging a finger inside. it is long and thick, a lot thicker than any of yours. you writhe at the intrusion.

"how am i supposed to fuck such a tight hole? won't be able to take it, i might just rip your cute little cunt apart." his mouth encloses your clit, sucking and licking as he fucks his finger into you. the pace he sets is fast and riveting, it has you moaning like a freaked up slut instead of a virgin.

you brokenly cry when he adds another finger and your insides are stretched more than they are used to. you can hear the soaked soppy noises of your hole being slammed into over and over, his slimy mouth on your clit.

it is so embarrassing. yet it feels so good, getting your insides stroked and having his mouth somewhere you never thought it should be made your entire body buzz.

his mouth wetly separates from your clit with a sticky pop. "you like that? yeah you do, got your pussy dripping all over me." he thrusts his fingers, deep and fast. like he has done it countless times before.

you dumbly nod your head, your insides squeezing his digits and your hips rutting to meet his movements. he pounds into your hole until the creamy liquid is dripping down his wrist and there are tears in your eyes. saliva webs in your mouth while you moan. he slowly pulls his digits out of you.

"you okay?" you hum, sniffling. your eyes trail along his glistening fingers, it is weird to think they were just inside of you. satoru looks at you as he kisses your abdomen, caressing your thigh before his tongue glides along your entrance.

the tip prods your cunt and you whine lowly when the hot slimy muscle finally sinks in, hips tilting at the strange sensation. he groans into your flesh, his jaw dropping to press deeper. the tip of his perfect nose nuzzles against your clit and your eyes flutter constantly.

your lids threaten to shut as his mouth drips saliva onto you and the muscle squirms within your gooey walls. the knot in your stomach pulls tighter and tighter, your thighs tensing at the sight of him bobbing his head between your legs.

your shaky fingers find purchase in fluffy white locks. the feeling of his tongue being pumped into you makes your mind go blank, it makes your mouth water and your insides tighten.

squelching sounds fill the room as he eats your cunt up. his tongue going so deep your vision blurs.

"toru, toru, toru." you did not realise you were moaning. blue eyes flick up to look at you, you who is so lost in pleasure your head is leaned back and your chest is heaving.

satoru thinks if he had to choose the happiness moment in his life it would be here, with you. you were intoxicating enough but having you like this meant he could never be without you.

your slick in his mouth drives him insane, he wants it on his tongue always, he could die happy if your pussy is the last thing he has. he sucks up your drenched hole before moving to your clit.

he laps at the mound, fingers filling your hole to replace his tongue. the faster he shoves into you the more you tremble, the more your body jolts and the tighter you grip his hair. they reach for his shoulders instead, nails digging into his flesh and it makes satoru think about you clawing his skin when his cock is buried balls deep in you.

your voice is all high pitched and whiny, your head writhes against the couch, hips bucking into his face. he does not give you a break, despite your moans being broken and shaky.

no, he slams his fingers into your creamy pussy, feeling your walls pulsing around him as he quickly thrusts into you.

your liquid splatters with the pace of his movements, his mouth alternating between sucking your clit and licking it up. your voice is all honey dew and dreamy when you cream.

satoru groans at the taste of your cum, still fingering your innocent hole as he laps at the evidence of your orgasm. your thighs tremble and you roll your hips into his face, breathless with the weight of your high.

satoru's jaw is covered with slick when he moves over you, his other hand still gently caressing between your folds after slipping out of your sensitive slit. "why do you know how to do that?" you mumble.

"i had to know just so i could do it with you." he flashes you the prettiest smile. you trace his jawline, your blurred eyes trailing over his messy hair, his lengthy lashes, his gorgeous eyes and the slope of his nose.

the pinkness of his lips is more swollen than usual and cum drips down his jaw. even so he lacked imperfections.

satoru pecks your cheek "you were so good, such a perfect girl." he presses his body flush onto yours, both of his arms hugging your figure.

your smile is flustered with his weight on you, you keep him as close as possible. you are overwhelmed in a good way.

you think you would do this countless times so long as it is with satoru. he buries his face into the crook of your neck and sighs softly.

"i don't think i could be without you." truly, he thinks it might break him. you press a kiss to his hair, your hand stroking down the toned bulked up expanse of his back.

"you'll always have me, toru." the sound that escapes him is something like a whine as he leans in to peck your lips.

"we should clean up." you slowly let go when he sits himself up. satoru's arm is resting along the back of the couch, one leg folded while the other rests on the tiled floor.

his dexterous hand adjusts his cock through his boxers. the thickness looks like it is struggling with the constricting fabric. your body feels lighter, the mess between your legs is a bit uncomfortable but you tug them to your chest and look at the male before you.

he is way too big, it makes you all tingly inside. like he could hurt you if he wanted to but he does not. like if he held you, his arms would be the most impenetrable fortress.

"what do you want to do after?" he leans his head back, his eyes turn to you and his adam's apple bobs. he is looking at you but you are staring at his evident erection.

the thin material of his boxers does nothing to hide the girth of his aching cock nor does it conceal the wet patch from his pre cum.

"so shameless." he slyly smiles, he reaches to nudge your chin but his resolve falters when your gaze flits between his crotch and his eyes and your cute little tongue trails along the seam of your kiss swollen lips.

he hopes you do not say what he knows you will because satoru cannot resist you. not a single ounce of him has the strength to refuse you.

"toru, i can take care of you too." his smile slowly drops and his mouth dries. his eyes go dark and he tilts his head.

"yeah?" he sees your little hands bunch into fists before you perch yourself on your knees and you lean closer to him.

satoru wants you this close forever, to always see, touch and have no matter what. your hair frame your face and your lips pouts with your words.

"if you want to use my mouth or anything else, you can." you are temptation. you are temptation in the form of an angel.

satoru swallows hard, he shifts closer to you, hands cupping either side of your head. he kisses your forehead before nuzzling your nose with his.

"today isn't about me, we'll do it another time." your eyes flit over his features, leaning in to peck his plush pink lips. you grips his wrists, stroking them.

"but i want to do it now, i really want to see it." satoru breathes heavily. he feels like there is no air in his lungs.

"okay." it comes out soft, you are too good for him. "i just need you to put something on if i'm taking my boxers off."

his large palm trails down your bare chest "you're too pretty, you're everything i want and i don't trust myself to not take you." you slowly nod before holding his hand. satoru follows you without a question, he would follow you to ends of the earth without any hesitation.

your bedroom is pink where your apartment is white everywhere else, it is like you were hiding all the colour in here. it is his first time in your bedroom despite the countless times you slept over in his.

you have plushies all over your bed, the sheets are pink, your fluffy pillows are pink, your closet is wide open and all that meets the eye is pink. your laptop, headset, desk. it is all pink.

you leave him beside your bed and he sits at the edge with an increasingly painful erection making his boxers tight.

his eyes trail over your room and he has to adjust his cock again. this should not be a turn on.

yet something about you, a pretty little thing like you touching yourself in such an adorable room, getting fucked by him in here.

the thought of him pressing your face into these pink sheets and rawing your cunt with reckless abandon. it makes him lose his mind.

he winces as he tugs his swollen cock. when you come back into his view, pink lacy panties are covering your pussy and the matching bra that conceals your tits makes satoru groan.

you draw closer to him and his large palms caress your hips. "now i know you wear cute panties." he jokingly says but there is a desperate undertone in his voice.

when you kneel down, satoru thinks he might be too turned on to think. he wants to keep you to himself.

your hand strokes along his happy trail before teasing the waistband framing his deep v line. he gently grasps your wrist, preventing you from going further.

"we'll leave the blow job for another day, okay? you can use your hand, i'll tell you what to do." you nod yet your eyes look all hungry. his abs tense, staring at your face as he tucks his thumbs into his boxers and tugs them down his thighs.

finally having his aching cock unrestricted has him grunting. your expression is so flustered yet you are pressing your legs together to dull that burning desire at the sight of him.

he grits his teeth, you are staring at it, from the pinkness of his swollen tip, to the dip where his head meets his shaft. the hefty girth with veins trailing down it, there is one particularly prominent one along the underside.

satoru wants to make you feel every inch of it inside, he wants to make you take his shape. maybe he is thinking too deeply, he jolts when your mouth surrounds the side of his ballsack and your little tongue is laved along it repeatedly. "don't- ohmfuck. okay, okay." he pants, fingers curling into his palms.

you need to stop before satoru shoves his entire cock down your throat without any care that you are gagging and choking on it. the gasp that leaves him is way too shaky. his tip goes past your face, it is over the crown of your head, it is too big for you. he is too big for you but he cannot not touch you.

he needs you like he needs air. he hums softly, he should stop you. he really should but he cannot when you are sucking at his balls. your little hands resting on his upper thighs and your mouth is draining him of any self preservation.

"you like it?" there is a sticky noise as your mouth pulls back, so much saliva on his skin. it is even webbed in your mouth.

"mm, you're so big toru." hearing those words in your soft voice makes his cock ache. he should not, he really should not but he needs to see it.

"keep that pretty baby mouth closed." he cups the back of your head, gripping his cock and squeezing it tightly before he presses it into your cheek. he curses, burning it into memory as he rubs his mushroom tip along your lips. his pre cum looks better than any lipgloss you own.

his fingers tangle in your hair to make you look up at him. having pretty little you, kneeling in nothing but laced panties chips away at satoru's restraint.

"want you to wrap your hand around it, can you do that for me?" you hum, when he lets go your fingers take his place. right around his base, your hand is so much smaller and so much softer. your fingers do not even reach around the perimeter of his cock.

his breaths are all laboured and hard, "don't put it in your mouth, just lick the head." his thumb strokes your cheek and you lean closer. your squirming slimy tongue trails over the slit and satoru throbs against the muscle.

"fuck, baby, you're so good at listening." he grips your hand to guide you up and down his length. "squeeze it a bit and move your hand like this." pre cum dribbles and he lets you do it on your own. it is jerky and unsure but somehow your hand feels so much better than his. he leans back on his arms, his hips moving slightly, his chest heaving and his dick begging for release.

"am i doing okay?" you mumble, begging for praise, feeling the ridges of his cock along your fingers while you slowly stroke up over his thick head and down his shaft.

the liquid seeping from his tip glides down along the sides and collects on your fingers, making it easier to jerk him off.

"more than okay, pretty girl. you're perfect." satoru's hand tangles in your pink sheets, the other reaching to tuck your hair behind your ear.

"faster?" you tilt your head, you are like a puppy. the cutest one ever.

"if you want." he grunts, when your hand starts pumping at his cock more, his eyes roll back. the muscles along his thighs flexing, all over his body in fact. he cannot help but fuck his hips upwards to meet your movements.

he is leaking incessantly, it coats your hand and it sounds all sticky and wet when you rub his cock. satoru curses, he feels like a virgin, maybe it was you, maybe it was your hand on him but it made his stomach all tight and his cock throb with no control.

you stroke at his base with a vigorous pace, your other hand surrounding his upper shaft and moving much slower. he jerks, teeth gritting when your tongue laves over the pinkness of his head before you take it in your mouth. it is so warm and wet, it makes him lose his mind.

your lips rest right before his shaft and the second you suck, satoru tightly grips the sheets, his head hanging and his jaw dropped to moan erotically.

"baby, baby what are you doing to me?" his unsteady palm caresses the crown of your head, petting you like the sight of his cock in your mouth does not tear him to bits. like it has not thrown him over the edge.

he wonders if you can feel him pulsing against your tongue. he wants to know what deeper in your little mouth would feel like wrapped around him.

"you're so fucking good, holy shit. never felt this good before." he groans and your eyes meet his, your wide innocent looking eyes despite how he has tainted you already. you look too pure for what you are doing.

"fuck m'gna cum. gna cum, take your mouth off baby." his hips stutter, muscles jumping. his toes curl into the fluffy mat beneath you both. you are still licking and wetly slurping around his head while you stroke his cock. the heated muscle of your tongue laving at his slit.

satoru's never came this quick before. his lids keep fluttering, he cannot stop groaning. his mind is too occupied with the thought of cumming in your mouth to stop you though he knows he should.

you keep touching and satoru has lost it already. he does not realise he is cumming in your little mouth until your hands have slowed down and you are teary eyed with milky liquid dripping down your jaw.

he curses. satoru is so sensitive and you are swallowing, why do you keep swallowing?

"baby, don't swallow. fuck, you don't have to." your hands shift to rest on his thighs, your brows furrowed and your little throat still bobbing.

you lean back and strands of cum are webbed in your mouth, still connected to his softening member. it drips onto the rug beneath you.

you sniffle, swallowing hard while you gaze up at him. your eyes are all glossy and pretty.

"i didn't think it would be that much." you are on your knees, right in front of him with your belly full of his cum, looking like the sweetest girl in the whole world.

you are his, you are all his. you have to be.

he cups either side of your face, leaning down to kiss you hard. he tilts his head, his tongue gliding over yours and the taste of his cum heavy in your mouth.

he reaches under your arms to lift you into his lap, nose nuzzling yours while he hugs you close. you are so much smaller you tuck right in along his large frame.

"i like you too much." he breathes into your shared air.

satoru cannot get enough of you.

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cleo-fox · 6 months

Text

Overtime

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

Pairings: Loki x Female Reader

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re still doing it.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh, great, you’re both still here.”

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

Also not a great sign.

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

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

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

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

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

“I beg your pardon—” begins Loki.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

That at least earns you a hint of a smile.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“We’re going out for dinner.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Please,” he says.

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

“Coffee would be great.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Technically.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Please,” he says.

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

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

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

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

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

“Liar,” you say promptly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re a terrible liar, you know.”

“It’s not a lie—”

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

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

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

“It does.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“‘The perfect choice for families.’”

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

“‘Reliability meets affordability.’”

“‘You can’t say no to that.’”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What’s that?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What are body shots?”

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

He’s teasing you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Come on, I’ll see you back home.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You raise an eyebrow. “Oh, we are?”

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

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

“Where are we going?”

“I know a place.”

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

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

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

“You do. It’s Mobius.”

“That can’t be right, we’re peers.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Darling. You have a TemPad.”

“Loki. Read the personnel manual.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

He frowns. “I’m not familiar.”

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

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

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

“Of course.”

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

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

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

You touch his hand. “This way.”

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

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

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

“What is it?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He scoffs. “I’m very fun.”

“Could’ve fooled me.”

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

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

“Thank you,” he says softly.

“For what?”

“For showing me that.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“There’s still so much left.”

“There’s still tomorrow.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh, that’s okay, I’ll just—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Thanks.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hey!” you shout in protest.

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

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

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

“This is ridiculous,” you say.

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

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

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

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

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

He grins. “Not a chance.”

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

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

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

“Yield,” he says.

You shake your head. “Never.”

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

“No.”

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

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

“Yield.”

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

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

“Yield.”

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

“No.”

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

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

“Yield,” he breathes against your lips.

“No,” you say.

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

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

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

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

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

“No,” you say.

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

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

“Cheater,” you say.

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

You shiver. “Your prize?”

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

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

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

“You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

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

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

“You have not,” you say.

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

You nod. “Yes.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What is it, my love?”

“Touch me,” you breathe. “Please.”

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

“Beautiful,” he murmurs.

You believe him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

For who?”

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

“You’re not,” you say.

“Some would disagree.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I am enjoying it the correct amount.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I need to be inside you,” he rasps.

“Yes,” you breathe.

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

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

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

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

He does.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

With two more thrusts of his hips, you unravel.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You whimper. “Loki—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You raise your eyebrows. “A confession?”

“A confession,” says Mobius.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Loki frowns. “What are you talking about?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What do you mean?”

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

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

“Wait,” you say, “you lied to us?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I know,” he whispers back.

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

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

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

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

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

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

He grins and tugs you through the time door.

-------

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

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

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lxkeee · 3 months

Text

MY LOVE, IS MINE ALL MINE

PART TWO

pairing: Lucifer x fem! reader

fandom: hazbin hotel

genre: fanfiction

notes: lmaoo sorry it took awhileee I'm actually a very busy college student while simultaneously having so much brainrot for this man so... Be patient omfg, I just posted part one a two days ago 😭 also, don't mind the warnings too much as it doesn't specifically for this specific chapter but it can be future parts of the story. So yes, hand holding before marriage will happen between Lucifer and [y/n]

warnings: none except hand holding before marriage lmao.

PART ONE | PART THREE

The princess of hell along with her girlfriend was just settling in the guest room heaven provided for them temporarily as they had an important meeting with them.

Charlie and Vaggie stopped talking as their was a knock on their door, “Who do you think is it?” Charlie asked and Vaggie shrugged and Charlie decided to open the door.

There stood a rather tall female angel with three pairs of wings and a golden halo on her head, the short white dress accompanied by gold compliments the woman's figure beautifully.

Safe to say both Charlie and Vaggie were mesmerized, the woman before them was drop dead gorgeous. Though, Vaggie was still cautious, despite a former angel, she doesn't know who this woman is as some seraphim angels tend to not show themselves to the lower ranking aside from Sera.

“Are you Princess Charlotte? The daughter of Lucifer?” the woman asked with her [e/c] eyes sparkling in excitement, the woman quickly placed her hands over her mouth in embarrassment, “Oh! Sorry for the intrusion, I forgot to introduce myself,” she says with a small smile before giving the two girls a curt bow, “My name is [y/n], a seraphim. It's a pleasure to meet you two.”

Charlie gave her a big grin, giving the woman a curt bow. The princess of hell decided to trust her as she couldn't sense any bad intentions from the older woman and to her, the name [y/n] sounded awfully familiar, she just forgot where she had heard it before. “It is so nice to meet you, I am Charlotte but you can call me Charlie.” Charlie said and [y/n] just grinned as Vaggie decided to just watch the two, still cautious. The older woman's eyes landed on Vaggie and she gave her a grin, “And who might you be?” she asked her and Vaggie just glared at her before avoiding her gaze, “Vaggie.”

[Y/n] just grins, her eyes analyzing the gray haired woman before letting out a small hum before shifting her gaze to the princess. [Y/n]'s heart ached a little to see how much the girl looked exactly like her father. [Y/n] misses him, she wished she did something that could have prevented his fall. Regrets always comes last. She took a deep breath then once more wore a bright smile on her face. Charlie noticed the shift of her mood but decided not to question it.

“So Charlie, I came here as I was curious what your plan for hell is about.” [y/n] says softly, she wasn't there during the meeting Lucifer requested for hell and this time, she promised to be there for his daughter instead. Charlie's eyes sparkled excitedly, excited that an angel aside from that bitch ass Adam would finally listen to her. “Really?!” The princess asked excitedly and [y/n] can only let out a soft chuckle, “Of course, why don't we take a walk while you tell me about it? Your friend can join us too.”

Charlie calmed down and gave the older woman a smile, “Vaggie here is actually my girlfriend.” she says, expecting the older woman to judge her but she was surprised when [Y/n] just ruffled her hair. “My apologies, I didn't know.”

The younger girls were surprised, that an angel didn't show any disgust to their relationship and she even looked like she approved.

“Now then, how about that walk?”

“And that's what I'm planning, I wished for my people to find redemption and join heaven.” Charlie explained softly, taking a bite of her strawberry cheesecake. Both [y/n] and Charlie sat in a rather peaceful cafe in heaven, angelic sigils circling around them as [y/n] casted them for their privacy. [Y/n] can only smile as she listens to the younger girl who rambles about her plans for her people, [y/n] can't help but remember how similar Charlie is to her father, oh heavens... She missed him so much.

Vaggie didn't join them unfortunately, she said that she wanted to rest a little bit in the guest room.

[y/n] gracefully placed down the cup of coffee she was sipping and gently wiping her lips with a napkin, “That is truly admirable Charlie, to see you have so much hope for your people really reminds me of your father. I really hope it will come to life.” the compliment was almost enough for Charlie to burst into tears, to hear someone praise her plans and believe in it, it felt like a mother praising her.

Though, she was able to stop her tears as she realizes something. Reminds me of your father. [Y/n] and her dad knew each other.

Then Charlie remembers, the stories her dad told her about heaven and the stories he told her about his closest angel friend—the only one who believed in him. She remembers thinking that she felt her dad loved that angel in one way or another, with how fondly he spoke of her—with so much adoration.

“I remember now, you were my father's best friend!” Charlie gasped, a hand over her mouth and [y/n] can only chuckle, a hint of sadness in her eyes. “Were? I still think of him as my best friend.” She chuckles softly, “Though, I don't blame him if he doesn't think the same way as I wasn't able to help him back then.” she continues sadly and Charlie had to wave her arms around to stop her, “Nonono, my father doesn't think like that. You're still his best friend.” Charlie reassured the older woman.

“Really now? How is he these days? I haven't heard from him after so many eons.” [y/n] asked softly with a slight chuckle and Charlie can only sigh with a small smile on her face, “Well... He's still how he usually is. Kind, trying his best for me, and lately he had an obsession with making rubber ducks.” she says with a small giggle making the older woman chuckle, “Thay sounds like him, though surprised that he still loved ducks. He used to ramble to me about random duck facts when he was still here. He was such a dork, I truly missed him.” [y/n] says with a chuckle, a longing look in her eyes.

Charlie was able to put two and two together, her father and this woman loved each other and she can only assume they didn't confess in the fear of ruining their friendship. Charlie loves her parents but a part of her is hoping in a different universe, her father and [y/n] are happy together.

Charlie decided not to mention it to the woman and just continued hanging out with the older woman. “I am sure he misses you too.”

“The meeting will start in a few hours and Charlie?” [y/n] says softly before summoning a wax sealed white envelope out of thin air, gold sparkling from where the envelope is as it slowly falls into her hands. Charlie looked at her in curiosity, “Can I ask you a favor?” [y/n] asked her hesitantly and Charlie just nodded, “Of course!”

“Can I ask you a favor of delivering this letter to Lucifer?” She asked and gently extended her hand towards the younger girl in which the girl accepted the letter and placed it in her chest pocket. “Of course! My father would be delighted to hear from you.”

“Thank you, Charlie. I appreciate it dearly.” [y/n] smiled softly as she stood up from her seat, extending her hand to help the hell princess up from her seat. “Now, let me walk you back to your room so you can get ready for your meeting.”

Now the princess of hell wishes the other angels were just as understanding as [y/n]. Even though the meeting didn't go as planned, she felt reassured as both Emily and [y/n] were there in the court room.

“What are we even talkin' about? Some crack-whore who fucked up already? He blew his shot, like the cocks in his mouth. This discussion is senseless and petty.” Lute sneers with an annoyed glare, putting on her mask. Though, Charlie can feel her patience thinning, her eyes glaring at the angels.

The other angels looking down on the scene happening below, [y/n] looking worried for her while glaring at Adam and Lute. “There's no question to be posed, he's unholy, case closed. Did you forget that 'Hell is forever'?” Adam and Lute sang mockingly and [y/n] could feel her anger starting to boil. She always hated Adam, that egoistical prick, she looked up at Sera as if asking her to stop this nonsense.

“A man only lives once, we'll see you in one month. Gotta say, I can't wait to—” Adam sang and [y/n] noticed Sera getting worried, “Adam.” Sera says sternly but it seems the man was too busy to hear her, “Come down and exterminate you!”

At that moment, loud ringing was only what [y/n] heard as she was shocked to hear him say that. Exterminate...? Don't tell me...? [Y/n] asked herself before glaring at Sera, the other angels were also shocked by the reveal.

“Wait!” Emily exclaimed, shocked by the reveal and Adam just noticed his slip up, “Shit.”

“What are you saying? Let me get this straight, you go down there and kill those poor souls?” Emily asked, horrified as she slowly flies down towards Charlie, holding her hand, “You didn't know?” Charlie asked and Emily shook her head. “Whoops!” Adam says, not a care in the world, “Guess the cat's out of the bag.” Lute says with a smirk, “What's the big deal?” Adam asked with a condescending smirk and [y/n] wished she could go down there and punch him.

“Sera, tell me that you didn't know...” both Emily and [y/n] asked simultaneously, though, Sera was just looking at Emily. [Y/n] was pissed at this whole revelation, human souls are killed in heaven by the hands that are supposed to be pure holiness. To think about blood staining those hands, fills her with disgust.

The whole courtroom was a mess, [y/n] doesn't remember what exactly happened. The reveal that Vaggie was an angel didn't surprise her, she can sense the girl's angelic blood but the reveal that Sera was the one who ordered for the extermination to happen, filled her with rage.

“Charlie! Don't lose hope! We will find a way to help you!” Emily says as we watched Vaggie and Charlie be sucked by a portal back to hell, “Don't give up! We'll find a way!” [y/n] added, making sure the two girls heard. Sera glared at her and [y/n] glared back.

That's what Charlie last saw, Emily looking worried and disappointed but what worried her was Sera and [y/n] started arguing, angelic powers starting to spark between them and that was the last thing she saw as she returned back in hell. Thankfully, the letter was safe in her pocket.

#lxkeee hazbin hotel masterlist #lucifer morningstar x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #lucifer hazbin hotel #lucifer magne #lucifer #“MLIMOM” — LUCIFER X READER

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ccsainzleclerc5516 · 10 days

Text

You Could Be Mine

Pairing: Lando Norris x reader

Warnings: smut

It was a hot summer evening and you found yourself on a private party on a 100 m yacht in Monaco hosted by none other than Lando Norris. Actually, you weren't initially invited, your best friend was, but when she mentioned to Lando that you were in town too, he was more than happy to send you a verbal invitation through her.

Lando and you have a history together. You met a year ago in a club when you were visiting Monaco for the first time. He was your friend's friend and from the first moment you laid eyes on each other there was an undeniable attraction between you two. You spent 3 unforgettable wild nights together back then, but there has never been anything more since then.

And here you were again, back in town, at his party. There was quite a lot of people for a private party, a lot of girls too, but his eyes were glancing at you the whole night. You could feel his gaze searching for you, but you also saw how many girls around him were practically begging for his attention and you weren't gonna be one of them.

You don't want him that much, you thought.

That's why he couldn't wait to catch you alone somewhere. Once you wandered onto the upper deck, the highest one where was no people, Lando saw his chance and took it. You two quickly got into talking. He was so obviously flirting with you, he really wasn't wasting any time, he wanted to let you know that you've been on his mind and that he didn't forget about your nights together.

"So for how long are you staying in Monaco?" He asked stepping closer to you holding his hands in the pockets of his white linen pants.

"Two more nights." You say biting your lip.

"That's such a shame.." Pulling them out of his pockets, one of his hands finds its way to your cheek and the other to your waist pulling you closer to him. "If only I'd known sooner that you were here..."

"And why is that?" You ask glancing at his lips as his thumb caresses your cheek.

He runs his tongue over his lip then gently traces with his finger over your bottom lip before mumbling "What if I told you I've been getting off to the thought of you?"

You smirk squeezing your thighs hoping he wouldn't notice it while your faces are only inches away from each other's.

"It wasn't easy to forget you either, I must admit"

"Yeah?" He asks and you nod putting your hands against his chest looking up at him. "So what are we gonna do about it then?"

"Well, you tell me"

"I'd rather show you" He murmurs before he finally presses his lips against yours. The kiss gradually changed from gentle and slow to fast, passionate and heated. He was hungry for more of whatever this was between the two of you. His tongue ran over your bottom lip asking for permission to enter which you willingly granted.

"Fuck, I forgot what a good kisser you are" He pants and you blush hiding your face in his shoulder. He gently moves your hair out of your neck so he can leave sloppy kisses that send tingly feelings through your body.

His hand slowly comes between your thighs slowly working its way up under your short dress as you slightly part your legs for him. Just as his fingers were about to reach your wet lace panties, a squeaky female voice interrupts you.

"Lando!" The girl screams from downstairs making you quickly close and squeeze your thighs at the loss of his touch as he pulls back from you. "Where are you? Are you coming down?" The girl asks climbing a few stairs to see him. It was the girl who had been crawling all over him all evening desperately trying to get a minute of his attention. Her gaze stops at you raising her eyebrow and eyeing you up and down.

"Give me a minute" Lando says brushing her off to which she mumbles something rolling her eyes, clearly annoyed at his lack of interests, and leaves.

"Is that your girlfriend to be?" You provoke.

"She'd like that, but she never will be" He reassures you once again pulling your body closer to him. "But you could be" You giggle, but don't say anything to his unexpected proposal?

"I'd love to fuck you against this fence now," He whispers squeezing your hips. "But I'll do that in the morning when everyone leaves"

"What makes you think I'll be here in the morning?" You tease him.

"There's no way I'm letting you go before I show you how much I've been thinking about you." He groans as you slowly lift your leg and press your knee lightly into his crotch. "Fuck, you're driving me crazy..Come with me right now"

Lando goes down the stairs first and you follow behind him. He takes your hand leading you as you two disappear unnoticed into one of the rooms on the yacht.

As soon as the door closed he was pressing you against them forcing his tongue inside your mouth and lifting up your dress. You whimpered as he vigorously turned you around pulling your panties to the side and gently pushing your cheek against the hard surface of the door. He slipped his fingers inside you only to spread your wetness all over your slit and over his tip before teasing you with it.

"Lan" You moaned.

"What baby?" He murmurs into your ear rubbing his cock over your folds, but not pushing himself in. "Tell me what you want"

"Stop with the teasing and fuck me already"

"Fuck, you turn me on so much you don't even know. Feel how hard you make me? It's fucking aching for you" He hisses grinding against your ass.

He positions his cock at your entrance and you eagerly push your ass back on him. You were dripping wet so he slid in without the slightest trouble.

"So ready for me" He groans scraping his teeth over your bare shoulder making you shiver. "You're so tight baby, fuuuck"

He was thrusting into you deep and fast, your ass was grinding back against his pelvis as the sound of your skin slapping against each other filled the room. You were so into each other that you weren't even trying to be quiet. You almost forgot that anyone could walk by the room and hear your moaning.

As the familiar feeling in the pit of your stomach started building, from the other side of the door, the squeaky voice of the girl who interrupted you once was heard again.

"Lando?"

"Shit" The voice snaps you back to reality as he abruptly stops moving making you whine ruining your orgasm.

"Lando, are you in there?" She asks again. He puts his hand over your mouth breathing heavily as he slowly starts moving again.

"Should I tell her how deep inside of me you are?" You ask quietly removing his hand from your mouth.

"She's fucking crazy, and I don't want anyone to touch you" He pulls out of you and turns you around to face him.

"I'm not scared of her, I know she can't have you the way I can" You didn't even mind that she was behind the door because you knew you had all his attention, you knew he was starving only your touch.

You start kissing his wide neck, running your tongue over the veins that were popping out as he throws his head back.

"Fuck, she's not even half of you"

He reaches under your ass tapping your thighs signaling you to jump and wrap your legs around his waist. When you do so he leads you to the bed gently throwing you down and getting on top of you.

"I missed you" He says looking at your lips before you connect them. You were clinging to each other as he started thrusting into you again only this time slow, deep and raw. He was enjoying the feeling of your walls tightly hugging him.

"I missed you too" You were moaning into each other's mouth, gasping for air as both of you were getting closer and closer. "Faster, Lan, please"

"You gonna cum with me?" He asks. You nod and he quickens his pace. "I'm n-not pulling out, okay?" His voice cracked and legs trembled. You didn't even have time to answer as your climax penetrated your whole body. Lando's quickly followed by filling you up to the top.

"Ohh fuuck" He moaned before collapsing down on you.

When your breathing calmed down he propped himself up on his elbows looking at you and caressing your cheek before placing a soft kiss on it. "You okay, baby?" He asks.

"Yeah" You blush at the nickname he didn't call you by the last time you were together.

"Why are you blushing?" He asks smiling, but you're too shy to say why. "Tell me"

"I'm not telling you"

"Is it because I called you baby?" You giggle trying to hide your face to the side from him, but his fingers pull your chin back to face him. "I'm not letting you leave Monaco this time. You're staying here with me."

#lando norris x reader #lando norris #lando norris imagine #lando norris smut #lando x reader #lando norris fluff #lando norris one shot #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #f1 smut #f1 one shot #f1 imagine #f1 blurb #f1 fluff

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ellemj · 3 months

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Flustered: Part 2 (FINAL)

Bucky Barnes x Female Reader Two-Part Fic: SMUT

Request by @aryarcharon: enemies to lovers, fuckboy!Bucky, praise kink.

Summary: You might be able to fuck away a crush but you can't fuck away an obsession.

Warnings: profanity, fuckboy!Bucky, size kink, praise kink, oral sex (female receiving), kinda threat with a belt in the bedroom but nothing happens, unprotected sex, MINORS DNI, 18+!!!

Word Count: 3.9k

A/N: I hope this meets some expectations lmao, I get nervous when the first part of a series or two-part thing gets a lot of attention. Also to the people who have randomly tipped me, BLESS YOU 🥹🖤 I actually cry a little when I get those notifs.

Fucking someone, anyone but you, is what Bucky needs tonight. It’s what he’s needed every night since he met you honestly, but especially tonight. The dangerous game that the two of you have been playing has left Bucky with a feeling similar to that of climbing Mount Everest. The longer the climb goes on, the harder it gets for him to breathe. God, it feels like his lungs are trapped at a high altitude every minute that he’s around you at this point. So, Bucky will be skipping the monthly team game night to fuck a girl he met two days ago.

He pulls his leather jacket over his arms and shoves the key to his bike in his pocket as he gives himself one last look in the mirror. The tiniest seed of doubt presents itself in his mind as he meets his own gaze in the mirror. Fucking someone else won’t fix this. Fucking someone else might put a crush out of one’s mind…but this is more than a crush. As Bucky stands there, staring at himself, the realization comes crashing in like a damn freight train running off of its rails. This is obsession.

If Bucky’s breathing can be compared to the struggle of oxygenation at a high altitude, then your breathing can be compared to taking one’s first natural breath after a successful lung transplant. Every time you say something to get under his skin, every time you watch his smirk fall away and his chest rise and fall a little faster, you suddenly feel like you’re standing outside, taking in a breath of cool, crisp autumn air. The dirty little game between the two of you is simultaneously ruining Bucky’s life and giving you life.

________________

“Hey, you’re staying for game night?” Sam’s voice rings out as Bucky steps into the main living area, where the entire team is gathered both on the couch and the nearby floor. The entire team except for you, he notices, as he scans the group.

“I have somewhere to be.” Bucky answers gruffly, coming to stand next to the end of the couch where Sam sits.

“Hot date?” Sam jokes, giving him a quick once-over. As soon as he sees the leather jacket, he knows he’s either taking the bike out to wherever he’s going, or he’s going on a mission. Sam is positive it’s the former, because if it was the latter, he’d know about it.

“Always.” Bucky says with a smirk, shoving Sam’s shoulder. As the rest of the team begins chatting amongst themselves, Bucky catches himself looking around for you. Are you out tonight? Do you have a date? Bucky’s jaw clenches as he briefly envisions you dressing up for your trainer and sitting down to have a meal with him. You had better fucking not.

“Heading out?” The unexpected sound of your voice breaks Bucky out of his moment of mental weakness and he turns around quickly, coming to face you. You must’ve been in your room, he thinks, since you came from the direction of the hallway. Of course his obsessive mind would assume that you went out with the piece of shit who thinks you’re as fragile as a damn butterfly. “That’s too bad, I was really looking forward to kicking your ass tonight.”

“Oh, I’m not going anywhere, sweetheart.” Bucky says calmly, staring into your eyes as the room grows quiet.

“But I thought—” Sam begins repeating Bucky’s earlier claim that he had somewhere to be, but he’s quickly cut off by Bucky shooting him a look that says something along the lines of say one more word and watch what happens. “Oh, right, your date is tomorrow night, not tonight.” Sam recovers with a lie. After one look at you, Bucky abandoned his plan to fuck away his feelings. You brush past him to take a seat on the floor by the coffee table, and as your arm collides with the fabric of his leather jacket, all he can think about is the image of a freight train careening off the rails and going up in a fiery blaze. Obsession. His obsession with you is going to be his undoing, he’s sure of it.

______

The team game night was significantly more intense than normal with both you and Bucky being present. Well, it wasn’t just the fact that you were both in attendance for once. It was the fact that you were both so set on showing one another up. The entire night basically turned into a cut-throat duel, with cards and game pieces instead of knives and guns.

You stand in the living area alone now, stacking up all of the game boxes on the coffee table as you listen to the soft sound of the kitchen faucet running. After all of your back and forth arguing and shit-giving, you and Bucky were forced to take the cleanup duty yourselves, as restitution. You thought Bucky would continue on with the act once everyone went their separate ways for bed, but you were utterly surprised when he offered to take the kitchen cleanup and leave you only to handle the games. It was as if whatever competitive, teasing switch he had that had been turned on all night was suddenly turned off once he had you alone.

Bucky rinses off the last dish in the sink, watching intently as the suds run down his vibranium fingers and into the drain. With every dish he washed, he imagined his obsession going down the drain with the suds. It was almost therapeutic, until he sensed you stepping into the kitchen behind him. He stiffened instantly as the hairs on the back of his neck stood up.

You stand still as Bucky turns off the faucet and sets the final clean dish in the drying rack. You don’t really know why you decided to approach him. You could’ve gone to bed once you finished putting the games away, but your feet carried you in the opposite direction. So, now here you are, staring at the defined muscles of his back through his taut shirt.

“What’s up with you?” You ask quietly, leaning back against the island a couple of feet behind Bucky. You realize you’re in similar positions as the night you figured out that he has a size kink, except you’ve switched places.

“What do you mean?” He answers your question with his own as he towels his hands dry and turns around to mirror your position. He leans back against the front of the sink as he looks you over carefully. You’re suddenly entranced by the way he meticulously dries in every little crevice of his vibranium arm, as if he’s done it thoroughly a thousand times before, as if it’s a routine. When he notices you staring at the action, that familiar smirk returns to his face. “You don’t know how to act around me when I’m not fucking around with you, do you?” He asks in a near condescending tone. You narrow your eyes as you raise them to meet his gaze. When you don’t say anything in response, Bucky continues his work with the towel, warring within himself. He knows he shouldn’t keep going like this. He should leave right now and spend the night with any other woman underneath him so he can bury whatever it is that he feels about you. But the next words leave his lips anyway. “You miss it, don’t you? You can’t stand not having my attention, even for five minutes.”

“Bullshit. You’re too damn cocky for your own good.” You huff, crossing your arms over your chest. You don’t make a move to leave the kitchen, and Bucky takes note of that.

“And you’re a tease. Which is worse?” Bucky asks. He begins carefully folding the towel, slower than you’ve ever seen him do anything. You’re mesmerized by his hands.

“I’m not a tease.”

“Bullshit.” Bucky calls out, setting the towel on the countertop beside him.

“I’m not.”

Bucky exhales slowly as he pushes away from the sink and straightens up before you. The look he gives you sends an icy shiver down your spine.

“Good girls don’t lie.”

______

To you, the next two minutes were a blur. The only thing that registered in your mind was a brief, fleeting thought of not giving a fuck and punching Bucky in his smug face. Your legs had the right idea when they rushed forward, carrying you straight toward him, but the rest of your body betrayed you and somehow you ended up kissing him.

Bucky didn’t even return your kiss at first. He stood there, completely stunned, as your soft lips met his. It took two seconds before his senses were able to convince his body that this was actually happening, and then he lost every ounce of control. The days of back and forth teasing, the innuendos, the lingering glance, it all came together like a pile of firewood and combusted right there in the kitchen. Bucky’s right hand tangled in your hair like it was instinct. As his palm connected with the nape of your neck, he gave your hair a gentle tug and earned himself a sweet moan that traveled from your mouth, straight into his.

He was fucked.

Now, Bucky’s heart is beating out of his chest as he watches you step into his dark bedroom in front of him. He can hear his blood rushing in his ears as he turns around and pushes the door shut, turning the lock into place and then taking a deep breath. Obsession. He has you in his fucking bedroom. He started out the night telling himself to go fuck another woman and now he has you right where he’s always wanted you.

His room smells just like him. It’s dark, but not so dark that you can’t make out his neatly made bed and distinct lack of decor in the space. You’re suddenly aware of the reason why he never brings women here, always choosing to meet them elsewhere instead. The place could be mistaken for a hotel room, without a single personal memento or hint that a person actually lives here. You can feel Bucky’s eyes on you as you take in the new setting. When you turn around to face him, he’s leaning against the door.

“You don’t have a single picture in here.” You point out casually, as if you didn’t just jump the man three minutes ago and then follow him to his bedroom for god knows what. Bucky keeps his eyes trained on yours.

“That’s what you’re thinking about right now?” He asks, cocking his head to the side.

“Among other things, yeah.” You admit, walking backwards until you feel the edge of his mattress against the backs of your knees. You sink down onto it, maintaining eye contact through the dark space around you.

“Other things…” Bucky mumbles. He runs a hand through his hair and for a second, he almost looks unsure of himself.

“You were so cocky just five minutes ago.” You tsk, shaking your head. “I didn’t expect Bucky Barnes, the ultimate man-whore, to have performance issues.” Your words could’ve gone in either one of two very different directions. You could’ve hit a sensitive spot of his and turned him off, or you could’ve brought out the side of him you’ve been seeing for days.

“You talk so fucking big for someone so fucking small.” Bucky’s demeanor shifts, and suddenly the energy in the room is as charged as it was the day you sparred with him. You’re silent as he steps away from the door and starts undoing his belt with one hand. One. Fucking. Hand.

“Bucky—”

“No, you sit there and look pretty, don’t say a fucking word.”

You close your mouth instantly, partially due to the shock of his boldness but mostly because when Bucky Barnes tells you what to do, with his hand on his belt, you’ll do it. You aren’t quite sure when your body decided to switch from always wanting to do the opposite of what he said to wanting to do everything he says, but you have a feeling it happened around the time he started praising you for the tiniest things.

“That’s right, you can’t even help yourself, can you? You listen to me because you know it’ll get you what you want.” His voice is smooth and even. Any hint of hesitation has vanished. As he pulls his belt out of the belt loops, he glances down at the strip of leather in his hands. So many things he could do with it, he thinks. He steps even closer to where you sit at the foot of the bed and you swallow hard as you look up at him. Bucky’s mind is reeling. He remembers the way you looked up at your trainer in the gym that day, the way you smiled at him. He almost laughs thinking about how jealous he was of that. And now he has you like this. Bucky drops the belt on the bed beside you and then pulls his shirt over his head in one swift movement, dropping it on the floor beside your feet. As your gaze drops to take in the sight of his toned chest, the scars along his left shoulder, his godly abs, he smiles to himself.

�� You feel the last dry fabric between your legs become wet when he hooks a finger under your chin and tilts it upwards, forcing you to look up at him once more.

“Keep behaving, and I won’t touch that.” He says evenly, cocking his head in the direction of the belt. Bucky slowly drops to his knees in front of you, placing both hands firmly on your thighs. “Act up, and you’ll have two reasons why you can’t sit down tomorrow, instead of one.”

When he talks to you like that, things either start moving in slow motion or they start fast forwarding. You find yourself flat on your back, with your legs hooked over his shoulders so suddenly that you aren’t sure if it happened in seconds or minutes. You aren’t even sure if you said a word, though the belt still lies on the bed beside you so you must’ve kept his command and stayed quiet.

“You have no idea…” Bucky whispers as he kisses along your inner thigh. “No idea how long I’ve wanted to be between these thighs.” His admission sends blush to your cheeks and a shudder throughout your body. He raises his head for a moment and looks into your eyes. Fuck, he needs to stop doing that. Every time he makes eye contact with you, he’s pushed closer and closer to throwing every care out the window and fucking you like a goddamn animal. He focuses on your dripping cunt instead, finally giving himself the chance to admire it. Every time he breathes you feel it. When he presses his tongue flat against your entrance and begins to drag it up toward your clit, your back arches off the bed at the sudden contact.

“Fuck.” You exhale the word sharply, letting your eyes flutter closed and your fists grip his bedding. As soon as the word leaves your mouth, you remember what he said. Don’t say a fucking word.

“You taste so fucking sweet.” Bucky groans, breaking away from your cunt and pressing his forehead against your thigh to ground himself. “Shit.”

Seconds later, Bucky is working his tongue all over you, into you, like he really has waited forever for this moment. His desperation and fervency only adds to the sensations between your legs, causing a knot to twist in your lower stomach at record speed. As soft whimpers and moans slip past your lips, which you’re trying hard to keep pressed together, Bucky sucks on your clit and remembers what he told you to do.

“Let me hear you, please.” He says just loud enough for you to hear, before diving right back in. In that moment, you can’t believe the filthy sounds that begin spewing from your mouth. Bucky eats up every single sound, every single swear, every single syllable of his name falling from your lips. His name. God, every time you moan his name, his cock twitches in his jeans and he loses another piece of his mind. When your back arches off the bed again and your thighs tighten on the sides of his head, he knows you’re right on the edge. That’s when he, without warning, flicks his tongue over your clit and slips two fingers inside of you. With a few thrusts and curls of his fingers against your walls, and his mouth’s unrelenting actions on your clit, you’re coming undone for him. “That’s it, cum for me.” He encourages you, practically finger fucking you right through your orgasm. “I knew you’d sound so fucking pretty when you cum.”

You’re a limp, panting mess on his bed as he crawls over you, peppering your naked body with kisses all the way up.

“Talk to me.” He coos, leaving a trail of kisses along your neck as he waits for you to say something, anything.

“That was…” You take a deep breath mid-sentence, trying to steady your voice. “You just…” You’re mentally kicking yourself for not being able to form a coherent sentence. You have no doubt that your loss of basic speech skills is only going to inflate his ego.

“That was a fucking dream.” He says softly, sucking on your earlobe and then moving to hover over you. He takes in the sight of you. Your cheeks are flushed, your pupils are blown, and you’re struggling to catch your breath. It’s adorable. “Can you move up higher in the bed or do I need to move you myself?” He asks. At first, you think he’s joking, but when you look into his eyes you see that he’s dead serious. A moment later, you’re settling in with your head on his pillow as he stands beside the bed and strips every last shred of his clothes off. Though your eyes have adjusted to the darkness of the room, the shadows make it impossible to see Bucky’s fully naked form. It isn’t until he’s positioning himself back on top of you that you get the answer to the question that had been on your mind.

“Oh my god, Bucky.” You gasp as his hard cock presses firmly against your thigh.

“Hmm?” He knows exactly what you’re reacting to, and if you could see the smirk painted across his face right now you’d probably want to slap him.

“It’s…you’re so big.” Your voice turns into a whisper. You’re sure you feel his cock twitch and a little bit of precum drip onto your thigh when the words leave your lips. Oh, right. Bucky’s size kink. It makes sense now. How could a guy with such a big dick not have a size kink? “It’s not going to fit.” You say assuredly.

“Oh, it’ll fit. Remember what you said?” Bucky remembers what you said like it was five minutes ago. “I can take whatever you have to give me. You said that to me.” He reminds you.

“I didn’t know—”

“Oh, you knew.” He chuckles, leaning down and capturing your lips in a kiss. He distracts you with ease, licking along your bottom lip and then letting it delve into your mouth gently, just as he grinds the head of his cock against your clit. You gasp into the kiss, which only encourages him to deepen it further. He starts rutting against you, dragging his cock back and forth between your folds with every movement of his hips. If he had it his way, he’d be fully sheathed within you right now, fucking you so hard you’d see stars.

Bucky lets the head of his cock get closer and closer to your entrance with every rut of his hips, but he continues distracting you with his mouth. He fully intended to keep kissing you when he finally let his cock slide into you, but just as he notches inside of you and starts pushing in, he breaks the kiss.

His lips hover within millimeters of yours as your pussy grips him and pulls him in deeper and deeper. You’re both open-mouthed, breathing into each other, looking into each other’s eyes as your bodies meld together. Obsession. It’s the only word on his mind as he watches your eyes squeeze shut while your legs spread all for him.

He fucks you slowly at first, giving you time to adjust as he sticks to shallow thrusts. When your eyes open and you look up at him once again, he smiles down at you and picks up the pace, thrusting a little deeper as you start to focus on the feel of him. But when your name leaves his lips and you start scratching your nails down his bare back? He starts fucking you like he owns you. He fucks you as meticulously as he cleaned the crevices of his vibranium arm earlier.

“Fuck, you’re taking me so well.” Bucky groans, pushing his face into the crook of your neck. “My cock is splitting you in half and you’re fucking taking it.” He can feel how close you are, and the absolutely cock-drunk expression on your face only confirms it. Your expression paired with the most sultry moans he’s ever heard have him following you right to the edge. “You’re going to cum for me, aren’t you? Such a good girl, ready to cum all over my cock.”

“Bucky, if you keep talking like that—fuck.” He only speeds up when you start talking, convinced that if you’re still talking, he’s not fucking you hard enough.

“Shut the fuck up.” He groans, hating the way those few simple words from you nearly made him blow his load. “Shit.” Bucky hooks your legs around his waist and pulls your arms away from his back, pinning them down on the bed on either side of your head. He doesn’t have to say another word for you to know what he’s doing. He’s fucking you until you can’t do anything, until you can’t say anything, until all you can do is cum for him.

Your orgasm is uncontrollable when it comes crashing in, making your back arch off of the bed and your bare chest press against his as you cry out his name.

Bucky’s orgasm? Bucky’s orgasm was so much more uncontrollable that it didn’t even cross his mind to pull out and cum anywhere except inside of you. He pushed so deep inside of you when he started cumming that you swear you felt the heat of it in your stomach. Even when you were both finished, he just couldn’t stop thrusting in and out of you.

“Good girl, such a good girl.” He kept whispering against your neck as he rutted into you, using his own cum mixed with your wetness as lube.

As he collapses on top of you, your hands immediately move in two different directions. One begins tangling in his hair, gently massaging his scalp, while the other goes to caress his back with the softest touch. Only one word surfaces in your mind as you listen to his heavy breathing and focus on the feel of his skin against yours.

Obsession.

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#bucky barnes #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x you #mcu #marvel #the winter soldier #winter soldier

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rafeandonlyrafe · 2 months

Text

pink roses

words: 3.1k

warnings: 18+ only!!, smut, female receiving oral, CHEATING!, ex!rafe, mentions of violence and drinking, its valentines day during the second part of the fic :)

you moved on. thats what you tell everyone. absolutely over rafe, even got a new boyfriend.

you definitely don’t think of your ex every time you kiss him or hold his hand. definitely don’t think of rafe when your new man is between your legs.

“hey baby.” darren says, giving you a tight hug after you open the door, not cradling your body against his like rafe used to.

“hi.” you smile, letting him into your house. “just give me like five minutes to touch up my makeup then we can head up.” “okay.” darren nods. you frown as you walk up the stairs, knowing its not the response rafe would have given you. he would have said that you already look perfect, not needing to touch anything up (though you would absolutely still reapply blush and swipe on some more lipgloss).

you don’t even feel like going to a party tonight, only going because darren has some friends that he wants you to meet. truthfully, you know you’re using darren. you know that he’s just a fling to get over rafe, and you feel guilty when he clearly values you and wants to show you off.

“ready!” you call as your heels click down the stairs.

“perfect.” darren smiles, placing his hand on the small of your back as he guides you out to his car, having to tug your dress down to not reveal yourself as you lower into the passenger side of his sedan.

“where is this party at anyways?” you ask, inspecting your fingernails, freshly painted in a lightly shimmery pink.

“topper thorton.” darren says. he must see your face go pale. “why, do you know him?”

“uh, yeah.” you pick at a nonexistent thread on your skirt. “he's my exes friend. you know, rafe. the one everyone warned you about.”

you chose to rebound with darren because he had just moved to town, wouldn't be scared into silence from rafes reputation alone.

“ah, damn.” darren says, but doesn't ask if you still want to attend. you know you're going to see rafe, and you're honestly not sure if you can see him touching other girls.

you are quiet until you get to the party, your bottom lip pulled between your teeth as darren leads you inside, the music bounding out of the speakers, so loud it almost shakes the house.

“y/n!” toppers eyes are wide when he spots you. “didn't expect to see you here.”

“yeah…” you suddenly feel awkward and insecure in your dress, tugging the hem lower.

“rafe is um… rafe is on the patio. i would avoid him if i were you. he's… he's not the same since the breakup.” topper nods to you before walking away.

“you said this rafe guy broke up with you, right?” darren asks.

“yeah.” you nod, feeling like you can't form any other word.

“then why does he care? who cares if he sees you? im not letting some random guy stop me from going where i want with my girlfriend, come on.” darren grabs your hand, tugging you towards the back of the house.

“darren, no!” you shout, but he's moving too quickly, the music too loud for him to hear you yell, and before you can grind your feet to a halt, you're out on the patio. your eyes flicker around, trying to pick the familiar face out of the crowd when you suddenly see rafe, his eyes already bouring into you.

“come on, let's dance baby!” darren says, your gaze fixed on rafe as darren moves behind you, grinding into your bum. you can't move, stuck in the power of his blue eyes.

“do you not like this song?” darren asks, having to shout into your ear as someone turns the music up impossibly louder.

“i told you, my ex.” you say, line of sight being broken by dancing bodies, finally allowing you to take a deep breath and move, turning to face darren.

“what? you not over him or something?” darren asks, his expression suddenly turning a mix of anger and disappointment.

“no!” you echo what you tell everyone. “no, it's just the first time ive seen him since the break up. it's just… weird.”

“okay.” darren says, but you can tell by his tone that he's going to bring it up later, and it's not really the end of the conversation, just for now.

“shit, there's my boys!” darren's expression quickly changes. you watch as he daps up two guys, who he then introduces to you, but you don't even hear their names, barely able to nod and smile, putting on a pretty face while your mind is other where. you know that's all you're truly there for anyways, a nice grin and tight dress for darren to flaunt.

he leads you back inside and away from the loud speakers so he can sit and chat with his friends. your eyes continually scan the room and the entryways, waiting to see those blue eyes and sandy blond hair.

“darren, baby, im gonna go use the bathroom.” you tell him as he takes a sip of his beer. you just need to move, feeling like a sitting duck just waiting for a predator to strike.

“alright.” darren literally waves you off, too enticed by the conversation his friend, who you thinks name is matt, or maybe mark. miles?

you stand up, having memorized the layout of toppers house from parties with rafe. you know the most private bathroom is upstairs and inside of one of the tucked away guest room, a guest room rafe often took you to.

you push past people to get to the stairs, dodging couples making out on the steps as you make your way up. you sigh when you finally get the guest bedroom door closed behind you, glad to be alone and somewhere somewhat quiet compared to the sensory overload of the rest of the house.

you turn towards the room, ready to head towards the bathroom door when you see a slight movement in the shadow. you reach behind you for the light switch, feeling across the wall, sure that your eyes are just playing tricks on you, but as the ceiling light illuminates the room, you come face to face with the one man you didn't want to see.

“rafe, i-” you cut yourself off. you don't know what to say, have no excuse. a small part of you knows you said you had to use the bathroom just to get back into this room, look at the bed that rafe took you on so many times.

“he's not as tall as me.” rafe says. “you hate guys with that color hair.”

you urge your hand to reach for the doorknob and flee, but rafes deep voice keeps you captive.

“i would never ignore you like he does in favor of stupid fucking friends.” damn, so rafe was watching, and you couldnt even tell, probably too far in your own head.

“and im sure he doesn't fuck you like i do.” rafe steps towards you, having to round the bed from where he was leaning against the corner of the wall. “tell me y/n… does he make you cum as much as i do?”

��did.” you manage to bite out. “in case you forgot, you broke up with me. not the other way around.”

“i didn't expect you to settle for such trash.” rafe is now only feet away. he smirks as his eyes glide down your body and tight dress before landing back on your face. “you look stressed, baby. he's not giving it as good as me at all.”

rafe sighs like he truly cares about the kind of service you're getting in the bedroom.

“he's fine.” you argue back, the best defense you can manage. rafe was always able to tell when you were lying.

“so if i offer to eat you out right now, you'd say no? don't want my tongue, baby?”

“this isn’t fair, rafe.” you say bluntly. “you can’t break up with me only to tease me like this.” “get on the bed, underwear off.” rafe simply commands. your body moves before your mind does, still trained to his instructions. and once your underwear is on the floor, you figure theres no point in stopping now.

you do think briefly to darren, chatting innocently away with his friends downstairs, not a clue that your ex is about to go down on you, but when rafe lays between your thighs, your thoughts couldn’t be farther from darren.

“the most gorgeous pussy i’ve ever seen.” rafe says, pushing your dress further up your body. “missed her so much.”

rafe leans forward, tongue instantly zeroing in on your clit, switching between rubbing with the tip of his tongue and lapping over it in broad strokes.

“oh fuck!” you moan out, head pressing back into the pillow, sure to ruin your perfect hair.

“little bit louder and your new boyfriend might hear you.” rafe smirks before letting his tongue explore your cunt, even slurping at your juices.

“shut up, you’re so fucking unfair.” you groan, but reach down to grip his hair and push his face further into your pussy.

rafe shows you just how skilled he is with his mouth. there really is no comparison to darren, who you swear things your left lip is your clit.

rafe focuses in on your entrance, tongue sweeping in tighter and tighter circles until it juts forward into your hole, taking a moment to appreciate being back inside your tight heat before he begins to thrust his tongue, his thumb moving to rub your clit.

“tell me i’m better.” rafe says, barely pulling away to speak the words. “no.” you shake your head. you shouldn’t give rafe the satisfaction of admitting it, as if your moans aren’t evident enough.

“tell me or i’ll stop right now. won’t make you cum.”

“fine.” you close your eyes, as if somehow not seeing rafe makes it less like you’re cheating. “you’re better than him. just, please.”

you’re not above begging. you wish you could say that you were better than that, better than getting into bed with your ex the first time you see him.

“there’s my good girl.” rafe purrs out in his oh so seductive voice. he resumes movement of his thumb, rubbing you just the way you like, knowing it brings you to the edge quickly as his tongue continues to thrust inside of you.

“oh, oh my god! rafe!” you shout his name as his thumb quickens until it’s all too much, a flood of wetness gushing out as your back arches off the bed, hands gripping at the duvet. rafe continues his movements as your high works its way through your body until the snap of sensitivity hits and you have to shove his hand away.

you blink your eyes open, vision slightly blurry as you look down at rafe between your legs, face going pale when you realize that you didn’t just cum, but squirted, leaving rafes face dripping.

“holy shit, it really has been a long time since you came if you’re squirting like that.” rafe chuckles, wiping his chin with the back of his hand, only for his tongue to dart out and lick the juices off his skin.

“you-you-” realization comes flooding back of what you just did. you may know that you’re using darren, but you never intended it to go as far as to cheat on him.

“i only did what you wanted me too. even if you couldn’t admit it to yourself.” rafe moves up to a kneeling position, his cock clearly straining against his pants. “want me to fuck you now baby? i know you’ve missed this big dick.”

“no!” you snap your thighs together, mind much clearer now that you’ve gotten your orgasm. “no, i-i have a boyfriend!”

“go downstairs and break up with him and then come back up here and let me hit.” rafe says, tapping your hip to get you moving.

“i am going downstairs.” you say, swinging your legs off the bed. “but it’s because this was a mistake.” you grab your underwear off the floor and put them back on before attempting to readjust your dress and hair to acceptable levels, well aware that darren must be wondering where you are by now, having been gone for so long.

“baby-” rafe tries to stop you, but you’re already out the door.

“oh baby, this is so sweet!” you plaster on a fake smile. you were easily able to explain to darren what happened at the party a few weeks ago. you got caught up talking with some old friends and the time slipped away from you. not completely a lie.

you’ve avoided being out in public at all for fear of seeing rafe. you’ve even manage to banish most thoughts of him. most… except for when he forces his way back into your mind when your fingers are in between your legs, finishing yourself off after darren had gone to sleep next to you.

“a beautiful red rose for my valentine.” darren gives you a kiss on the cheek as you smile at the rose. it’s a nice gesture, it is valentines day after all and he is your boyfriend, but you just don’t feel in the spirit of the holiday, mostly because you aren’t in love and are just waiting for the right moment to break up.

you pull out your phone, opening up your instagram and snapping a photo of you holding the red rose, quickly uploading it to your story.

“what else do you have planned for today?” you ask darren, but his face quickly grows pale and you realize he doesn’t have anything else planned, thinking a singular red rose was all he needed to please you.

“we could go to the park later.” he recovers quickly. “have a nice picnic.”

“okay, sounds good.” you nod. “i’m gonna go put this in water.”

you flee quickly to the kitchen, leaving your boyfriend sat in your living room. your parents are rarely home, spending all of their time traveling when your dad isn’t working out business deals, and it feels like darren has practically moved in since they’re rarely home, and it’s only causing a bigger divide in your relationship.

you get the rose put in a vase with some fresh water when your phone vibrates from your pocket. you grab it out, eyes widening when you see that rafe has replied to your story.

doesn’t he know you like pink roses?

the doorbell rings, making you drop your phone with a loud clatter onto the countertop.

“i’ll get it!” darren calls out before you can process the sound, suddenly rushing after him as he opens the door to reveal rafe standing on your doorstep, not just one pink rose but an entire armful of them, the largest and most beautiful bouquet you’ve ever seen.

“who the fuck are you?” darren asks, but rafe looks right past him to where you’re stuck frozen in the foyer.

“i’m giving y/n the valentines day flowers that she deserves.” rafe pushes past darren with ease, transferring the large bouquet into your arms.

“and you’re getting the fuck out.” rafe turns to darren, now blocking him from moving back into the house.

“fuck if i am.” darren laughs. “and she’s my girlfriend.”

“she’s only your girlfriend because i broke up with her knowing she was too good for me and needed to find someone better, but instead she settled for you.” rafe turns his head to look at you, his voice softening. “it’s okay, sweetheart. i don’t blame you.”

“lets let y/n decide.” darren says, rightly deciding not to fight rafe, being smart for once in his life knowing rafe would easily annihilate him, but wrongly thinking that you would choose him.

“get out.” you say, eyes moving to darren. “get out, darren. i don’t even like red roses.”

“baby-” darren begins to argue, but then rafe surges forward, shoving him out of the door before slamming it in his face.

rafe takes a deep breath before turning to you, looking so small with the roses drowning in your arms.

“i’ve missed you.” rafe moves towards you, his hands cradling your face and pressing a soft kiss to your lips. “i’m sorry for breaking up with you, princess. thought you could do better.”

“i’m just glad you’re back.” you lean forward, rafe quickly understanding that you’re asking for more kisses as his lips glide over yours, familiar and warm.

“let me carry these for you.” rafe scoops the bouquet out of your arms. “and then you can go ahead and get ready for all the things i have planned for today while i gather your exes shit and make sure he knows to never come back here again.” you giggle and follow rafe, knowing you should feel bad for dragging darren into the mess that is rafe, but you’re just happy that he served as a distraction before rafe came back.

rafe walks up to your room, glad to be back in your house. he realized seeing you with a new guy how much of a mistake he made and knew it had to be corrected.

rafe sets the roses on the bench at the base of your bed before frowning at the bed itself, your side clearly neatly made while the side that used to belong to darren is a mess still, showing a complete disrespect for how you like to keep your belongings.

“i’m trying to decide between fucking you on the sheets he used to sleep in or taking them outside and burning them.” rafe says, placing his hands on his hips.

“maybe…” you wrap your arm around rafes waist as you bury your head into his back. “we add buying new bedding to your valentines day plans?”

rafe turns around to take you into his arms, eyes soft as he looks down at you. “you’re always gonna be my valentine from now on, baby. i love you.”

you shift your weight to your toes as you lean up to kiss rafe, his mouth slowly moving over yours as you make out, feeling him swell against your lower stomach.

“i don’t think i can wait until after we buy new bedding, baby.” rafe groans.

“well… i do need to take a shower before we go.” you smirk, walking backwards towards your attached bathroom, slowly unbuttoning your pajama shirt.

“and you know how much i love to conserve water.” rafe chuckles, following you as your clothes hit the floor.

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rafetopia · 4 months

Text

𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡 𝐝𝐨 𝐮𝐬 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭

-𝐫𝐚𝐟𝐞 𝐜𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐨𝐧

pairing: rafe cameron x fem!kook!reader

genre: smut & angst -> 18+!!

words: ~3k

warnings: dom!rafe & subby reader, prison sex, “public” sex in a sense you can be possibly watched and heard, (slight) daddy kink, (sexual) choking, hair pulling, blackmailing, bribery, mentions of an affair (not r & r), fingering, slight handjob, mentions of violence and tiny teeny bit of soft!rafe

summary: you visit your fiancé in jail after his arrest

note: i want to say big thank you to @rafesthroatbaby for giving me this wonderful idea (i really hope i did it justice) and to @rvfecamerons for beta reading and helping me improving this piece!!! love you guys to pieces!!

The moment you walked through the doors of the Kildare's Detention Center, you had all eyes on you. The way your cute little summer dress hugged your curves and emphasized your tits, combined with the pastel pink heels and the way you were carrying yourself, was just impossible for anyone to miss. You pulled out your phone and opened your camera, using it as a mirror to apply your lipstick. When your gaze met one of the officers, you gave him a genuine but exaggerated smile, before making your way over to him, making sure to swing your hips a little bit more than usual.

“Good afternoon, officer.” You smirked. “I’m here to see Rafe Cameron.”

“Mr. Cameron isn’t allowed any visitors. Have a nice day.” He bluntly spoke, not interested in any further interaction.

“Oh, but he sure is.” You smiled innocently, before leaning over the counter until you were really close to the man in front of you. “And you’re gonna let me see him.”

“And why is that?”

You smiled devilishly, as leaned towards the man, now only inches away from his face. “Because I’m sure you know who my family is and that I am capable of shredding every single one of you and your corrupt and very much incompetent colleagues to pieces if you don’t grant me that teeny tiny request to see my man..” You paused, “Starting with you and the little affair you have been going on with the mayor's wife.”

His expression shifted as he listened to your threads, knowing that you were indeed serious. You saw how he was fighting with his thoughts and he knew this was bad but he couldn’t risk you exposing the entire department and especially not his affair.

“Fine.” He mumbled as he looked from left to right, making sure that nobody was listening in. “Wait here.”

He came back around five minutes later and guided you towards what you assumed to be the room, where your fiancé was waiting. He was about to open the door when you stopped him.

“See, Officer Wilson, my man and I didn’t have a lot of privacy recently… so I need you to make sure that we will have that.”

“Absolutely not.”

You gave him a disappointed look before reaching into your bag once again. You pulled out a 100-dollar bill and stuffed it into his pocket, before leaning towards his ear. “See, if you would be so kind and look away…might even let you watch.” You smirked, causing him to turn bright red from embarrassment. “Keys?” You smiled, as you opened your hand. He reached onto his collar, removed one single key, and handed it to you. “See, wasn’t so hard, now was it?” You grinned.

You could tell Officer Wilson was beyond pissed that he got screwed by someone as young as you, a female to make it worse but that didn’t matter to you. You got what you wanted.

….

“Hello, baby.” You said the second he had closed the door behind you.

“(Y/N).” He chuckled softly. You were still standing next to the door, but you could see the tears building up in his eyes.

Your heart arched at the way he was looking at you, with teary eyes, tousled hair, and a bruised-up face. You were there when Officer Thomas buried his fist in your fiancé’s face, everyone was able to hear your screams and pleads for him to stop. Deputy Plumb had to physically hold you back and stop you from going full-blown crazy on her colleague, which resulted in you throwing violent threats at the whole police force that was there at that moment. Plumb even wanted to lock you into a cell until you calmed down but Shoupe warned her of the aftermath that would have been your father if she had taken action on her plan.

You took the seat in front of him and immediately held out your hands, for him to hold them. His hands were cuffed together with a light violet and blue line around his wrists, where the metal clung to his skin. You immediately went for the key in your fist and tried to open it.

“How did you convince them to let you in? Alone to give you the key?” He asked surprised but deep down he knew he shouldn’t be. He knew how convincing and resourceful you were, it was one of the many things he loved about you.

“You know I have my ways.” You smirked at the satisfying click of the cuffs. The second his hands were free, you took them into yours and softly caressed his bruised skin. They had them way too tight and you were pretty sure they knew that.

“You do.” He chuckled. “I miss you.”

“I’m here now.” You whispered softly, trying to suppress the tear that was building up in your eye.

You wanted to say that you wouldn’t leave him again but you both knew that would’ve been a lie. The way he held on to your hands was enough for you to jump up, walk around the table, and climb onto his lap, where you gently pressed his head onto your chest.

“What are you doing?” He whispered, “You’re gonna get yourself in trouble.”

“I won’t, I promise.” You smiled, “I made sure of that. Now come here.”

He leaned his head back onto your chest and buried his face into your dress. It didn’t take long until you felt his tears through the thin fabric of your dress, followed by quiet sobs leaving his mouth. It was only with you, that he would ever let himself go like that but he hated it, he hated every single second of it. He knew how much it broke you to be apart from him and he hated to be the cause of your suffering. He never wanted it to go this way, he never wanted anyone to get hurt but most of all, he never wanted for you to get hurt.

After a few minutes, he quickly got himself back together and looked into your eyes. They were soft and kind but had an evil spark in them, which was the perfect reflection of your personality. He saw how much you tried to stay strong for him, he saw how much you fought back your tears and he couldn’t have that. He needed to be the strong one, the one who protected you and was there when you needed him, not the other way around. But at this moment, he couldn’t and you knew that. His tears had dried by now, just as quickly as you were used to it with Rafe.

You leaned in for a kiss, which started out soft and gentle but the more you both realized how you had missed each other's lips, the more passionate and hungry it became. Your hand was resting on his chest, as his hands were wandering down your back to your ass until they slipped under your dress. You moaned at the feeling of his fingers digging into your skin, a feeling that you had missed so much. You felt his hardened bulge between your legs, begging for your touch. You let your hand slide into his pants, the thin material being easy to be pushed aside, and started caressing him. He moaned out quietly at the feeling of your fingers dancing around his tip, trying to not get the attention of the officers. Normally he wouldn't give a single fuck about anyone hearing the two of you, but in a setting like this, he would rather die than have you pulled away from him.

He pushed away the material of your barely existing thong, and slid inside two of his fingers, causing you to let out a loud moan. His other hand quickly flew towards your mouth, making you unable to make another sound.

“Quiet princess, you don’t want them to hear us, right?” He breathed into your ear.

You gave him a quick nod, a silent promise for you to try and stay quiet. He started moving his fingers again as you slid your hand up and down his shaft, first slowly but then faster and faster, until it became hard for him to stay quiet. He let out another moan and this time it was you, who put her hand on his lips.

“Seriously?” You whispered, one eyebrow raised.

He then pulled out his fingers and licked them clean, leaving a satisfied grin on his face. “You have no idea how much I missed your taste on my lips, baby.”

You smirked, before hopping onto the table behind you. The metal was cold on your bare skin, sending goosebumps all over your skin. “I would love to feel your tongue on me baby but…” You started, “But I need to feel you inside of me because…” You stopped, looking up into your fiancé's eyes.

“But you don’t know when we will be able to do this again.” He finished, a tone of sadness washing over his voice. “I don’t want to think about that right now, princess.” He smiled, before reaching into his pants and pulling out his dick. “I love you.” He whispered against her lips, before aligning himself with your entrance.

“Rafe?”

“Yeah?”

“I need you to promise me something.”

“Everything you want, baby.”

“I want you to know that I will do everything in my power to get you out of this. That I will never give up on you. I want you to know that we will be able to do this again, but right now, I really need you fuck me like we won’t.” You paused, “I need you to fuck me like it’s gonna be the last thing you will ever do. Can you do that for me?”

“Trust me, princess, once I’m done with you, you will barely be able to walk out of here, leaving my DNA all over the floor of this building.”

Before you could even respond, he had his hand on your neck and pushed himself into you. You wanted to moan out at the feeling but his grip around your throat tightened so much, it was hard for you to get any sounds out. He started off slow and gentle but quickly became faster, as he thrusted into you. He clashed his lips onto yours, as your fingers dug into his shoulders. you didn’t realize it, but your hands moved up to his neck where your nails dug deep into his skin. He felt so good inside of you and since you weren’t allowed to make any noise, your energy just had to go somewhere.

“Just… just like that baby.” You whispered, trying so hard to keep your voice down.

He smirked and thrust into you even harder. With every thrust, he hit that sweet spot of you and you could already sense that familiar feeling in your stomach building up. He could feel your walls tighten around his cock, so he pulled out, causing you to protest.

“Why…” You pouted, disappointment written all over your face.

“Turn around.” He demanded, without giving you any reasoning.

You did as told, jumped from the table, and turned around. With a swift motion, Rafe had buried himself in your walls once again, without any warning. Your nails dug into the cold metal of the table, and you were sure if you applied just a little bit more pressure, they’d break.

Your face was directed towards the door and windows now, making everyone who chose to look inside able to look directly into your face. The danger of being walked in by an entire police force, combined with the deep and ruthless thrusts of Rafe’s hips, was enough to almost send you over the edge. Your gaze was fixated on the window, where you could see the back of Officer Wilson’s head, who was standing guard just like you told him to.

“Harder please!” You moaned out louder than intended.

Your lack of quietness seemed to have caught the attention of the guard, who had now turned around and granted himself a peak through the glass. His eyes met yours and you couldn’t help but smirk, as you let your head fall back into Rafe’s neck. He also seemed to have noticed what was going on and he would’ve lied if he said it didn’t turn him on even more. The grin on his face was enough for the now embarrassed Officer to turn around again, desperately trying to hide the blush on his face.

“I thought, I told you to stay quiet…fucking brat…” He growled, as he took a chunk of your hair and pulled your head back, so he could reach your ear more easily. “You’re gonna be the death of both of us I swear.”

You were sure he saw how you were smirking at the officer from the reflection of the windows, but that only made it more fun. You loved doing shit like this and he knew that. But you also knew how good he was at punishing you and most definitely could not risk him leaving you dry, not tonight.

“Mh sorry.” You cried out.

“What was that?”

“Sorry, daddy.” You repeated, “Gonna be good now, promise.”.

“That’s what I thought.” He smirked, before ripping off your thong. “Just to be sure.” He added as he stuffed the piece of fabric into your mouth.

You could taste yourself on your thong and if you were being honest, you really were fucking delicious. His thrusts became harder and harder now, hitting your G-spot every time he pounded into you. But it wouldn’t be Rafe Cameron if he wouldn’t add at least one finger to the party, in order to send you completely over the edge. He placed his index finger on your clit and started massaging it, while his other hand started to taunt your ass relentlessly.

“Being such a good girl for daddy, doing such a good job.” He cooed into your ear, but you were barely able to hear his words, as your mind had drifted far, far away. “Taking me so perfectly.” He added as he thrust himself even deeper into you, with more force and less mercy.

He knew it was loud but he had long stopped caring. All his sorrows had left his body, the second he could feel your walls around him. His soul might have been broken, as he got ripped off every ounce of control he had over himself and his surroundings, but when he was inside of you, it was like you handed it all right back to him. At this moment, his hand now back on your hip and his other on your clit, he had all the control over not just your body, but also over his own, as he thrust into you deeper and deeper. The sound of his skin slapping against yours filled the room and there was no doubt that Officer Wilson heard it too.

The harder and faster he went, the harder he felt not just your walls tighten around him, but also his dick twitching beneath them. He knew the both of you were close so he sped up his pace once again, ramming himself into you with every ounce of strength he had left inside him. Your vision turned blurry as you felt tears stream down your face and your release rushing over your body like a bomb exploding inside of you. Rafe came close behind, shooting his load deep inside of you.

He stayed like that for a second, his arm wrapped around you, as he rested his head on the back of your shoulder. As the two of you tried to catch your breath, reality swamped over your mind like a hurricane. You pulled your thong out of your mouth and wiped away the black tears that had stained the table beneath you. You then set yourself up and turned around, where you found Rafe fixing up his pants. The moment his eyes met yours, you saw the pain that he had been surprising for the last seven minutes and it tore your heart apart once again.

He softly wiped away the tears that had stained your beautiful face, but he wasn’t able to get it all. He knew the tears weren’t coming from a sad place originally, but he also knew that these very much could’ve been the tears you had been suppressing since the moment you stepped foot into the room.

“Hey.” He said softly, as he wrapped his hands around your face, forcing you to look at him. “I love you.”

“I love you.” You smiled, as you took his hand in yours. “Don’t worry baby, I’m gonna get you out of here. I promise.” You added before getting interrupted by a loud knock on the door.

You rolled your eyes at the sign, making the boy in front of you laugh. “It’s okay.” He whispered, “Don’t worry about me. I’m gonna be fine.” He paused, “All I need is for you to be happy.”

“Baby hell is gonna freeze over before I’m letting you rot in this cell. Besides, how dare you, believe that I could ever be happy without you by my side.”

He smiled softly, before placing a soft kiss on your lips. He then took the handcuffs from the table and handed them over to you. “Rather have you do it than any of those assholes.”

“Kinky.” You chuckled, before placing them around his wrist. You made sure to make them loose enough, so he would still be able to move them around, without his wrists bruising up. “Here, keep this, you’re gonna need it.” You said as you got the ripped piece of fabric, that used to be your underwear and stuffed it into his pants, careful so it wouldn't be visible.” Rafe grinned at that gesture of you, knowing this, and the memory of you and the past few minutes would be the one thing keeping him sane for what was about to come.

“Till death do us part?”

“Till death do us part.”

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#jas writes ❥#rafe cameron #rafe cameron x female reader #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron angst #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron x reader #outer banks fanfiction #outer banks #outer banks smut #dom!rafe cameron x sub!reader

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wildwheezy · 2 months

Text

that should be me ✧ s.r.

spencer reid x fem!reader

[2.0k] summary: on a night out with the team, you find yourself bothered by spencer's newfound female attention

The bar was buzzing with loud music overhead and conversations between strangers. The lights were dim, casting a warm ambiance around the room as people ordered drinks, danced, and chatted with those around them. You scratched at the label on your beer bottle with your thumb as you looked around, eyes flitting from person to person, searching. You sat at a table over in the corner with Emily and Penelope, waiting for Spencer and Derek to return with the next round of drinks.

“Where the hell are Reid and Morgan?”

You glanced over at Emily, shrugging your shoulders, taking the last swig of your beer. They’ve been gone for almost thirty minutes. Your eyes scanned the bar again, searching for the familiar duo.

“Oh, I think I see them,” Penelope said, pointing toward the other end of the bar.

You shifted your gaze in the direction of her finger and felt your breath catch in your throat. Indeed, there they were. With two girls. Two very pretty girls.

“I am not surprised in the slightest,” Emily commented, shaking her head.

You didn’t pay much attention to the girl talking to Derek, instead staying focused on the brunette girl that was currently laughing at something Spencer said. She was on the shorter side, not even reaching Spencer’s shoulders, and was wearing a short purple dress that hugged her petite figure. You watched as she pushed her chest out, leaning in closer to him as he continued to talk, wide smile plastered on her face. Lord knows what he was even saying to her, probably something about the effects alcohol can have on the brain.

“That one girl is all over Reid,” Penelope pointed out.

“Yeah, don’t remind me,” you replied, voice tense. Then, “Do you think he looks into her?”

“It’s Reid. He probably has no idea that girl’s even into him,” Emily said, chuckling softly.

You shifted in your seat, uncomfortable with the situation occurring across the bar. Your lips tugged down in a frown, a displeased expression growing on your face.

“I mean, yeah, but do you think he’d like... go home with her?” you asked, twisting your empty beer bottle between your hands, trying to sound nonchalant.

Emily and Penelope shared knowing looks at that. They could read you like a book.

“It sounds like someone’s feeling a little upset that boy wonder’s attention isn’t all on her tonight like it usually is,” Penelope teased, eyeing you across the table. Emily hummed in agreement.

Your mouth dropped open, heat rising to your cheeks. “His attention is not always on me,” you defended weakly.

“Oh, bullshit,” Emily laughed. “We’re like chopped liver to him whenever it comes to you.”

Your relationship with Spencer was…a little complicated, to put it simply. You weren’t exactly together, but there was something between the two of you. It was kind of an unspoken thing. There was an obvious attraction there, but neither of you were brave enough to actually act on it. So, instead, you skirted around each other with flirtatious comments here and there and fleeting, accidental touches. You two were always wrapped up in each other, like you were in a bubble that shielded you from the outside world. Nothing has ever happened, though, despite how much you would like it to. It was almost painful, how much you wanted him.

You glanced back over at Spencer, watching him laugh with his new companion. They looked closer together than they were two minutes ago, and you felt your heart sink in your chest. “I guess he’s switching it up for the night,” you sighed, feeling defeated.

You technically weren’t even together, so you shouldn’t feel as hurt as you do, but you couldn’t ignore that twisted feeling in your gut.

Penelope frowned at you. “No, kiddo, don’t think like that. Try not to read too much into it, I’m sure he’s just being nice.” She reached over to rest her hand on your arm, trying her best to be comforting. “Besides, she’s not even that pretty.”

You side-eyed her. “Yeah, right,” you scoffed.

Penelope winced. “Okay, maybe that was a lie. But still, there’s no way he’s into her like that.”

“Yeah, that boy only has eyes for you,” Emily reassured, giving you a soft smile.

You appreciated your friends’ effort to make you feel better, but it was hard to believe them when he was still across the bar with this new mystery girl. “How come he’s still talking to her, then?”

“Okay, now you’re just torturing yourself. Let’s try to not focus on where Reid is and what he’s doing and go dance instead.” Penelope stood up from the table abruptly, tugging on your arm for you to do the same.

You hesitated, unsure. “I don’t know, Pen.”

“C’mon, it’ll keep you distracted,” she reasoned, voice sing-songy.

“Fine,” you said reluctantly, slowly standing up from your seat. “I’m gonna need a drink first, though.”

“Say no more. You coming, Em?”

Emily was already standing before she finished her sentence. “Of course, I am. What kind of question is that?”

________

Penelope was right: dancing was the perfect distraction. You were about four drinks in now, feeling the rhythm of the music and rocking your body in tune to it. Your clothes were starting to stick to your body, the air around you hot and thick as you moved with the people around you. You had no idea if Spencer was still with that girl but you hadn’t really thought much about it, not while you were feeling this good.

And so what if he was? Yeah, sure, it bothered you, but you really had no place to pass judgment given your current situation with each other. He was free to do whatever, and whoever, he wanted. Even if you hated it.

You downed the rest of your drink, twirling around to face your friends to let them know you needed another one. Penelope and Emily held their own drinks up in response, signaling that they were also ready for another round. You nodded then maneuvered your way through moving bodies, careful not to bump into anyone, and walked over to the bar.

It was crowded, making it a challenge to get the bartender’s attention. You stumbled a little where you stood, feeling the effects of the alcohol more now that you were no longer dancing. You looked around trying to see if you could spot Spencer or Derek, but no luck. You tried to ignore the sinking feeling in your stomach as your mind started to wander about where Spencer could be. He probably left with her.

A hand touched the small of your back, causing you to startle and drawing you back to the present. You quickly turned, catching a glimpse of the culprit who caused your heart to jump into your throat. Your eyes roamed over the familiar tall figure, tilting your head up to meet his eyes. Relief flooded your body as you realized who it was.

“Jesus, Spence, you scared me,” you said, slowly regaining control of your breathing.

“Sorry,” he chuckled. His hand played with the thin strap of your shirt, fixing it from where it was sliding off your shoulder. “Where have you been? You’re all sweaty.”

“Oh, uh,” you started, pointing over to where Emily and Penelople were. “I was dancing.”

The corners of his lips tugged up in an amused smile. “You? Dancing? Who’s idea was that?”

“Hey!” you exclaimed, teasingly elbowing him in the ribs. “I’m a good dancer.”

His eyebrows raised, giving you a look that clearly meant he didn’t believe you. “In your dreams, maybe.”

“Shut up,” you said playfully, slightly offended. Your face dropped then, remembering why you were dancing in the first place. You turned away from him and back toward the bar, finally close enough to order your drinks. “So…where’s that girl you’ve been talking to all night?”

Spencer reached a hand up and rubbed at the back of his neck: a nervous habit of his that you've picked up on over the years. “I think she left. I told her I needed to get back to my friends.”

“Wow. I can’t believe you blew her off, she seemed like was all over you,” you replied, trying your best to keep your tone even.

“She was nice, just…not really my type,” he said, shoving his hands into his pockets.

“No? Why were you with her for so long then?” you asked, a hint of jealousy laced throughout your voice.

Spencer shot you a questioning look at that. “Are you okay? You seem…off.”

“You study behavior for a living and that’s the best you could come up with? That I seem off?” His eyes widened at your response and you sighed, regretting your choice of words. “Sorry, that was mean.”

You felt his hand on your arm, pulling you away from the bar and over toward the table you all were at when you first got here.

“What are you doing? I need to get the drinks,” you protested, pouting.

“The drinks can wait. What’s going on with you?”

You avoided eye contact with him, instead looking down at your shoes, focusing on the scuff mark near your big toe. “Nothing,” you mumbled.

His fingers brushed along the underside of your jaw, tilting your chin upwards to look at him. “It’s not nothing,” he said softly. “Talk to me.”

It was hard not to give in with those brown eyes staring into your soul. You could fight him off as much as you wanted, but you knew you would cave eventually. You reached up to grab at the hand on your chin, pushing it away, and confessed, “It bothered me…seeing you with her.” You’re not even sure why you told him that, but you blamed it on the liquid courage currently flowing through your veins. Stupid alcohol.

“Why?” he asked.

You looked at him, pleading. “You know why.”

“I know, but I wanna hear you say it.”

“Spence,” you whispered. You doubt he even heard you with all the noise around you.

As much as you would love to tell him how much he means to you and what you feel for him, it was too hard. Like telling him would ruin the cute, flirty bubble you two found yourself in a majority of the time. And what would the team think, if you two were to actually get together? How would that affect the dynamic between all of you? It was just too risky, and you weren’t sure if you were ready to take that leap.

But then again, fuck it.

Your eyes searched his before you reached forward and grabbed his face with both hands, surging up to crush your mouths together. Your lips slotted against his, letting out a sigh as his hands wrapped around your waist to pull you closer. Every thought you had in your head vanished, completely focused on the man in front of you. One of your hands slipped back to tangle in his hair as you explored his mouth, stomach tingling with the sensation, feeling warm all over.

Hesitantly, Spencer pulled away, a sound of protest slipping from your lips. His chest was moving up and down, eyes hooded as he looked down at you. He opened his mouth to say something, but you beat him to it.

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that,” you said, breathless, smiling up at him.

“You should’ve done it sooner.” He grinned back at you, brushing a strand of hair out of your eyes and behind your ear. “And just so you know, I haven’t been interested in anyone but you for a very long time.”

A blush rose to your cheeks, warming your face. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” he affirmed, nodding.

“Good.” You leaned up to press a quick kiss to his lips, soft and gentle. “Wanna get out of here with me?”

“Absolutely. I’ve wanted to leave since we first got here,” he said, face completely serious.

You chuckled at that, grabbing his hand and leading him out of the bar. This is not how you anticipated your night ending, but you really couldn’t complain.

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fluff #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #wheezy writes

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moominsuki · 1 year

Text

✎ᝰ BAKUGOU KATSUKI ; — bakugou hates feeling jealous. but you make it worthwhile.

࿄ ! warnings — f!reader. absolutely none. sfw. / note. katsuki is a cutie patootie.

jealous bakugou is something else. he doesn’t think he’s all that possessive of you at all - he doesn’t care if your outfit is skimpy or if you have guy friends. bakugou regards himself as very secure in his relationship with you.

until he hears what guys have to say about you. then he gets a little crazy.

it’s an open day where he’s helping a group of lackies and hero interns with integrating into his agency and it’s pretty innocent at first. kiri and deku are doing most of the heavy lifting with talking with the prospective sidekicks and heroes (katsuki is very content with the extras he has already). he’s already kind of distracted by seeing you this morning - you offered to lift a hand and do some extra work around his agency for today due to the unusual amount of people scoping his place out and why would he pass on an offer to see you around his agency all day?

unfortunately for katsuki, it means that he’s being increasingly more distant than he usually is and the interns can feel the disgusted energy emitting from every fibre in his body. it’s not like he’s trying to hide it though - what a waste to have you come to his workplace and only catch glimpses of your hair and your scent.

“kacch- dynamight? what do you look for in a sidekick who wants to potentially join this agency,” asks izuku, pulling his friend out of his thoughts. katsuki looks at the crowd of young, probably high school kids and they basically cower under his gaze. he recognises a few of them from other, unimportant events he can’t seem to specifically recall. god, he wants to bite back at them but he shrugs in annoyance.

“don’t piss me off and do as you’re told. simple as but it seems like you lot would still f-”, deku quickly interjects katsuki and yells out, “okay! let’s take a quick 10 minute break! just have a look around and we’re free if you have any questions you want to ask!”

ᝰᝰᝰᝰᝰ

“what is with you today, kacchan? you’re more… insolent than usual,” asks izuku slowly, watching the expression on his blond’s face meld into a face of indifference.

“maybe it’s the fact that i don’t care about these idiots who’re just making a goddamn mess of the place. i don’t need more extras to fuck shit up f’me,” bakugou grumbles. kirishima pats his moody friends on the back and goes to speak when-

“well at least the rumours about dynamight are true. that guy is a fucking mood killer,” says some guy standing in the corner of the reception area, who looks to be a sidekick and is accompanied by other unknown up and coming ‘extras’ as Katsuki woukd put it.

“tell me about it. the guys here fucking suck. for once, i’m wishing that we were stuck with the female pros instead. have you seen uravity? she’s sexier in real life,” pipes up some other guy and the rest holler and hoot.

the three pros look at each other, with bakugou looking at kirishima and deku with knowing, smug eyes.

“i’m just going to interrupt their conversation-” says kirishima, attempting to walk over until another lackey pipes up.

“but have you seen y/h/n? what a woman. shame she’s not in her hero suit. what i would do for a woman like that,” grunts some pathetic looking guy. he’s spindly and limp and looks akin to a wet noodle.

it doesn’t stop katsuki from seething though.

kirishima and izuku slowly turn to look at their friend - who’s practically steaming in his hero uniform. all katsuki can see is red and violence - which isn’t really unlike from what he normally sees but it’s different this time. this time it’s about you.

he sees the group of gross, teenage boys point to where you’re standing: you’re leaning over the receptionist desk and just from the behind can katsuki appreciate how beautiful you are. you’re wearing a short black turtleneck dress with orange accents (you told him that you wanted to wear his colours to his agency) and in any other setting would katsuki run his hands over you and compliment and kiss you till you were shying away from him.

bakugou knew that you got unwanted attention, regardless if he was standing by you like a rabid guard dog - you were gorgeous and you knew that. he also knew that you could hold your own against a hoard of horny teenage losers and you would never look twice at them when you had him. still, that logic went out the window when he could see the same group of kids leering and pointing at where your thighs met the bottom of your dress and he wanted to kill them.

kirishima got wind of this just by looking at the blond’s expression, “please don’t blow up the place - they’re just dumb kids! think about how hard we worked for this agency,” pleads kirishima.

“he’s too far gone,” izuku sadly laments as they watch bakugou stride on over to you and ignore both the men’s pleas and bargains. he aggressively pushes past the disgusting collective of eyes and they break apart in shock at his intrusion through them.

you’re, however, too enamoured in your conversation with his assistant and mina- you’re looking at a pinterest board and he wants to bite you for being so cute in front of everyone. it makes him even angrier that those extras would ever think that you would give them more than a side eye and a polite wave.

you feel katsuki before you see him - his uniform-clad arm holds your waist between the desk as he slots himself into your conversation.

“so what’s this about? whatcha talking about?” katsuki asks and mina and his assistant giggle at his intrusion while you roll your eyes and turn yourself sideways to look at him.

“i would tell you but mina and akako might kill me,” you tell your boyfriend, resting a manicured hand on his chest. akako, bakugou’s assistant, laughs and nods her head:

“sorry, dynamight, our conversations are sacred. might i add your timetable tells me that you’re due to take the interns on a practice patrol in less than… 20 minutes?”

katsuki narrows his eyes at this and you chastise akako for poking at him, “leave him alone! i want him here,” before resting a hand on his stubbled jaw and scratching at his face. katsuki’s eyes close at the sensation and he opens them to take a good look at your face. the stupid kids are still a embittering thought in the back of his mind and in any given situation, he would never do this. but sometimes bakugou’s heart goes against his common sense and this was one of those times.

he leans down to slots his lips over yours and presses a gloved hand into the small of your back and you smile into the kiss while a few “awwhs,” emit in the background. bakugou opens an eye slightly to see in his peripheral vision that the gaggle of the limp-faced sidekicks are looking at him in a mixture of shock and fear and embarrassment. he also sees kirishima and izuku grab them up to guide them out of the room.

when you break from the kiss to brush at the hair on the nape of his head, he mumbles, “have i told you how much i love that dress on you?”

you giggle a little and lean up to kiss the corner of his mouth, “a few times. but you can keep telling me if you want. ‘s not like i’ll get tired of hearing it,” you whisper to him and it’s like you’re the only people in the room. he’ll tell you about what spurned this on another day. in the meanwhile, he bask in your attention until he has to go and entertain those useless jerks. it’s not like he’s going to employ any of them.

bakugou would say this is a mission accomplished in his book. yeah, he’s a little jealous and possessive. but with the way you look at him, he finds himself caring less and less about what others have to say about you.

doesn’t mean he won’t try knock them in the side of their head if the time calls for it.

#katsuki is so cute when he’s jealous i love him #bakugo x reader #not proofread at all mb y’all #bakugo x y/n #katsuki bakugo x reader #katsuki fluff #bakugou x reader #i like writing now if you guys couldn’t tell #bakugou katsuki #༝˚૮ .♡ katsuki.#✎𓂃stamped: (my hero academia)。°˖⌕

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dimicul · 2 months

Text

wine red

simon riley x chubby!female reader

just something quick i wrote after i saw this ghost headcanon on tt :,)

“Nothin’, just don’t like how my stomach sticks out.”

Simon pauses, his expression neutral. He glances towards you, drinking in the sight of your features drawing into a small frown as you studied your reflection, hands supporting the small pudge around your belly. He notes how bloody beautiful you look in red, but looks back to his own shoes, urging back a grunt of frustration.

You never complained about your belly.

He’s been around you long enough to be aware of your insecurities, watching you pad towards the bathroom mirror and prod at your pimples, grumbling at the bump on your nose bridge, sometimes sat beside him in bed with a sparkly face mask on - it was second nature to know you, and although it pissed him off to no end, he also understood insecurities were normal.

But this - this was different. You embraced your body, curves, blemishes and all, the crooks and crevices denting your flesh - you didn’t care for the sly looks or judgemental comments, you wore whatever the hell you wanted. And if anyone had a problem, Simon would have fixed it in a heartbeat. This wasn’t your insecurity, this wasn’t a flaw, it was a part of you you loved.

Simon couldn’t handle your expression.

A sigh, a clacking of heels - you had torn your gaze away from the mirror, face scrunched up into one of those mopey frowns Simon adored, and grabbed the leather coat from the rack. It’s almost suffocating, the silence, and he does realise he needs to say something, but talking wasn’t always his strong suit. So his jaw clicks into place, shoulders broad and unmoving, gloved hands resting on his thighs.

Suddenly Simon is sixteen again and sat in front of his headteacher.

He runs his tongue along the inside of his cheek, whiskey irises boring into the back of your head before you turn with a half assed smile. Ha. He’s glad he can understand your little moods now, or else this night would’ve turned for the worse.

“Come.” The baritone of his voice draws you out of your darting thoughts. You sigh, stepping forward.

You’re not prepared for when his large hands latch onto your hips gently, pushing you forward so his head could rest on your stomach.

“Si-”

And again. You’re doing things you’ve never done before - you always let him rest on your stomach, it was never something you panicked about. A beat passes and your boyfriend lifts his head, penetrating eyes contrasting starkly against the red of your dress.

“What’s up with you?”

You purse your lips, mulling over his tone. “Nothing, just - this dress wasn’t always so… fitting.”

Simon hums roughly, and you inhale sharply at his hands stroking against your hip tenderly.

“Look’s fine to me.”

Neither of you say anything. Not a lot of words needed to be said around him, but then again, not a lot of men were like Simon. Your eyes soften, and you let your palm rest on the back of his neck, your touch making him hum again, the vibrations against your belly causing you to shudder.

“Ev’ry big boy needs his big girl.”

You laugh sweetly, and finally, he exhales quietly, welcoming the feel of your nails against his neck. He supposed it didn’t matter what the hell you thought about yourself.

Because he’d always want you.

#cod x reader #ghost x reader #ghost x chubby reader #chubby!reader #bodyimage #body posititivity #ghost cod #simon riley #fluff #captain price #cod mw2 #cod modern warfare #john price #call of duty #angst #ghost x you

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mountainsandmayhem · 2 months

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Taste Her, Little Dove (18+)

Joel Miller x f!reader x female

Summary: Joel encourages you to indulge in your curiosities towards women. CW: girl on girl (Happy International Women’s Day), oral (f!receiving), fingering, dirty talk, pet names (little dove, baby etc.), sub/domme dynamics, sort of voyeurism on Joel's part, male masturbation, lots of orgasms, one night stand AN: practice safe sex!! This is unprotected sex, be better than my writing! STI’s may be less likely in lesbian hookups but please use dental dams or gloves with a partner that you don’t know. Stay safe! Dividers by @saradika-graphics WC 3.6k

More Little Dove Here

You sit at the kitchen table, phone open in one hand reading an article, fresh morning coffee in the other. “What’s it like to go down on a girl?”

Joel almost chokes on his coffee, folding the corner of his newspaper down and looking at you over his reading glasses.

“Jesus, babe. It’s 8 am!” His hair is tousled with sleep, still wearing just his boxers and a white t-shirt.

“Didn’t realize 8 am was prude hour,” you joke. Cupping your hot coffee in both hands and inhaling the steam.

“It’s just not what I thought was going to come out of your mouth.” He says with a laugh, putting the paper down and placing his glasses on top of it. “You never cease to amaze me, my love.”

“Well, I adopted Ellie in my second year of college, the first year I was too busy with classes. I didn’t get those wild college years. You know?”

The sounds of the morning birds chirping merrily fills the kitchen for a moment while Joel looks at you.

“Alright. I fucking love it. It’s powerful watching you fall apart as I lick you.” He smirks a little, a dimple forming in his cheek before he sips his coffee.

“So the same way I feel when I give you a blow job?” You shrug.

“I guess. I don’t know, the female anatomy is a lot more complex, but finding that right combination of licking and sucking, along with fingers. It’s like…” he trails off, thinking for a moment, “like a game of chess. Every time I go down on you it’s different. Sometimes you like the tip of my tongue to flick roughly, other times you like gentle kitten licks and lots of kisses. I almost have to read you and figure out the best way to win the game.”

“Huh,” you suddenly feel a little insecure, he’s doing all that work and you - “I just do the same thing every time. Am I doing it wrong?”

“No babes,” he laughs, reaching across and taking your hand in his. His thumb caresses the smooth skin along the top of your hand. “Dicks are pretty easy. Grip them and move up and down. You are amazing at blow jobs.”

He smiles at you and your gaze falls back to your phone. He picks up his glasses and paper and goes back to reading. After a few minutes, you break the silence.

“How would you feel about me going down on a woman?”

His eyes light up as he takes you in, he bites his cheek to stop the shit eating grin he can feel forming. “Go on….”

“I’m curious. I’ve never been with a woman.”

“Ok,” he folds the paper up again. “Are you doing this for you? Is this something YOU want?”

“Yes,” you say confidently.

“Ok. So are you asking for a threesome? Because if I’m being honest, I don’t think I want to be with another woman.”

“No! Oh god,” you try to stop your voice from sounding horrified, “I don’t want to see you with anyone.”

You’re quiet for a second before adding, “You know what, nevermind. I don’t like this.”

“What baby?” He asks encouragingly.

“I feel selfish. I’m going to ask you to let me indulge in my curiosities when there’s nothing in it for you but to watch. I’d want you there.”

“Hey,” he stands and walks to your side of the table. He stops behind you, wrapping his strong arms around you and rests his chin on your shoulder. “You’re not being selfish. I don’t want to be with anyone else but I sure as fuck would watch you play with another woman.”

Finding a woman was surprisingly easy. After taking Joel’s advice, you put on a little red dress and the two of you headed to a bar near your house. Joel went in first and sat at a booth near the back, ordering himself a whiskey. After touching up your lipstick and fluffing your hair in the rearview mirror you strutted into that bar like you owned the place. Heels clicked on the floor as you walked over to the bar and ordered a martini. You sat there, eyes flicking around at the patrons, trying to make yourself look approachable.

A gorgeous long-haired brunette woman was sitting across from you with an almost empty drink. This was your chance, you call the bartender over and ask him to send her a drink. As he walked over to her the music in the room seemed louder, and butterflies started to flutter around your stomach. But she took the drink and then came to sit with you.

She agreed to let Joel sit in the wingback chair in the corner of your room. “I’m not interested though, lover boy. So you can watch but hands off.”

Joel smirked at her, “Feelings mutual. I’m only interested in my Little Dove.”

Now that the three of you are in your bedroom, you’re not as confident. She’s completely naked, you just a bra and panties, and Joel sitting in the dark corner, ankle resting on his knee.

“Give me a colour, Little Dove.”

“Green,” you say shakily, hands hanging by your sides and eyes dancing around the naked woman in front of you. She steps forward, linking her fingers with yours. You lean into her touch, the tip of your nose tracing down the bridge of hers.

“Can I take your bra and panties off?” She whispers. You hear Joel stifle a groan, which encourages you to keep going.

“Yes please,” your hands trail up her arms as she reaches behind you to unclasp your bra. The cool air pebbles your nipples as the garment falls to the floor. Her soft lips find your neck, kissing towards the dip on your collarbone, her thumbs hooking into the waistband of your lacy panties.

“Don’t stop,” you whimper, hands sliding into her long hair, guiding her to your aching nipples. Her tongue flicks over one as she gets to her knees, panties slipping down along your thighs as she goes. You use her shoulder to balance you as you step out of your thong.

“You’re so wet for me,” she hums, kissing up your thighs to your hip bones. You won’t survive if both she and Joel start talking, and that’s further solidified when Joel’s deep voice adds, “Good girl, Little Dove” from the corner of the room.

Your body shutters as she stands, sucking a peaked nipple into her mouth. She sucks and licks, the other hand teasing your slit. Your head falls back and you gasp at the feeling of her. Being with a woman is so different from being with Joel. She’s soft, her hands are like silk as they move across you.

“Get on the bed,” you moan. You swear you hear Joel’s breath become heavier as he watches you. When you glance towards him he’s in the same position, chin resting between his thumb and forefinger, elbow perched on the arm of the chair. He shoots you a wink before you climb into bed. She’s on her back, legs open for you and can’t help but lick your lips at the sight of her puffy pink pussy. She’s glistening for you and you swell with pride at how you made her like that.

Laying on top of her you start kissing her lips and grind your hips into hers. She moans into your mouth, hands grabbing your ass. “I wanna lick your pussy,” she says between kisses, “please.”

You already know she likes to be in control, it was part of your conversation at the bar and with Joel. The two of you roll in tandem, sheets tugging around you before she throws them off. A groaned ‘holy fuck’ floats across the room. Joel is loving this more than the two of you.

She settles herself between your thighs, her warm breath hitting your clit, causing it to twitch. She stares up at you as you writhe underneath her, your eyes clamped shut. “Look at me,” she says, voice husky.

You peel your eyes open, they flick to Joel and then settle on her. The bedside lamp casts warm lighting across her face. She’s truly quite beautiful and you can’t help but notice the similarities between her and Joel. Deep brown hair, and warm amber-coloured eyes, she licks her plush lips before teasing your clit with the tip of her tongue. Pleasure courses through your body and your hips buck forward involuntarily.

“Sssh,” she hushes you gently, and one of her forearms comes to rest across your pelvis. “Do you like that?”

“Y-yes,” you coo, “again. Please.”

“Mmmm,” she hums, teasing you again before adding, “such good manners.”

Little sparks fizzle across your whole body at her gentle caresses. So different from when Joel devours you. Her arm is slender and soft against your belly, no facial hair to tickle your inner thighs. You moan her name, hands tangling in the sheets as that ache builds.

“You gonna cum for her, Little Dove?” Joel’s voice is deep and thick with arousal. Your eyes flick back to him, he looks dangerous sitting in the dark like you’re the prey, which is exactly how you like it when it comes to Joel. The tongue between your legs stops and you cry out at the loss, “No, please.”

She’s quickly up to be inline with you, one hand gripping your face under your chin, squeezing your cheeks slightly. You moan, yes being the prey is exactly how you like it.

“Don’t look at him. You’re mine,” she kisses you hard before pulling back and adding, “Do you understand?”

Joel's heavy breathing fills your ears and you can’t help but look at him. “Tsk, tsk,” she taunts and then turns to Joel.

“I think she needs to be taught a lesson. Is that ok with you?”

They’re wholly focused on each other, almost as if you aren’t even in the room. “My Little Dove will never learn,” he says, “what do you have in mind?”

She glances back at you with a mischievous grin, “Come sit behind her and hold her down.”

Joel stands, adjusting himself in his jeans as he walks over. The bed dips under his weight, he props a few pillows against the headboard before hooking his arms under you and pulling you flush against his chest. His hard cock throbbing against your lower back.

She laughs at you, “can’t see him now. Can you?”

You shake your head. “Answer your mistress, Little Dove,” Joel whispers in your ear in quiet demands.

“N-no mistress,” you whisper.

“That’s better,” she says, nails tickling your inner thighs. “Open your legs, he’s going to hold you open for me and I’m not stopping until you beg.”

You swallow hard, Joel’s cock jumps before he reaches for your legs, strong hands wrapping around the back of your thighs, pulling them towards your chest and encouraging you to open more. She dives in with much more hunger this time, lapping at your clit.

You throw your head back to rest on Joel’s shoulder. “Oh fuuuck, don’t stop.”

She doesn’t listen, stopping abruptly and laying a quick slap on your inner thigh. Joel hisses in your ear and your eyes widen in shock and arousal. “Watch your mouth,” she says in a dark, commanding tone that you didn’t think a sweet looking woman like her was capable of.

“Sorry, mistress.” The heat from her slap travels up your thigh to your pussy and it clenches around nothing. “Felt s’good,” you whine.

“No swearing,” two of her fingers tease your entrance. “Good girls don’t say words like fuck,” her fingers slide into you and you bite your lip hard to stop from swearing and yelling and moaning.

“Say yes mistress,” she taunts, curling her fingers forward.

Joel’s strong arms hold you down, you’re completely at her mercy. “Ye - oh god - y-y-yes mistress.”

“Do you wanna cum, baby?” Joel whispers as she continues teasing you, bringing the tip of her tongue to tickle your clit again.

“Mmm-hmm,” you moan, turning your head to nuzzle into Joel’s neck. And your body tenses up into his grip.

“Ask her nicely,” he says.

“Mistress, fuuu-, can I cum?” It comes out in a high-pitched moan, you’re clenching so hard to not cum, teetering right on the edge.

“Only if you scream my name while you do it,” she says in her demanding tone, working her fingers inside you faster.

Joel’s thumbs rub little circles on your legs and after you relax into him you release. Pinned by Joel the orgasm runs through you hard and fast, and it’s over too soon, but she keeps going. That familiar tingle builds quickly again and before you’ve caught your breath you cum again, screaming her name over and over as you cum on her hand and mouth.

She sucks your clit into her mouth. Stars start to light up in your vision, muscles start to hurt from how badly you’re shaking. As you start to cum again it all starts to feel like too much. “Stop. Stop. Please!” You beg.

She releases your clit with a pop and slows her fingers. “Look at me sweet girl,” she coos. She smiles at you gently when you make eye contact, it's almost like looking at a completely different person from the woman who slapped your inner thigh just minutes ago, “Do you actually want me to stop.”

“Yes, sorry. But yes.” You say, gasping for breath.

She slides her fingers out and Joel releases your legs. They whisper to one another and Joel slides himself out from behind you and heads back to his chair. She pulls you into her arms, head resting on her soft breasts. No wonder Joel likes to cuddle up to you like this, it’s warm and inviting. You can hear her heart beating softly as she plays with your hair with one hand. The other draws little circles up and down the arm you’ve draped across her.

It’s silent for a while before you start to giggle.

“What’s so funny, Little Dove?” Joel’s voice is light. He’s used to this part when you come down from the high and have a feeling of comfort and elation. It might be his favourite part, especially now that he’s seeing it happening from the outside. Your cheeks are pink, and your hair is disheveled, but there’s a big happy grin on your face.

“Fuck. That was….” You trail off, looking up into her brown eyes. “Well, that was amazing.”

“Good,” she cranes her neck to kiss you lightly.

“Umm, can I?” You ask, hand trailing down her body and stopping just above the slit of her pussy. You pout out your bottom lip at her, eyes turned soft and pleading.

“Christ, lover boy.” She says to Joel but doesn’t break eye contact with you, “How do you ever say no to this sweet girl?”

Joel chuckles from the corner. “I don’t.”

You take her sly smile as a silent yes and climb on top of her, taking one of her nipples in your mouth, swirling your tongue around it while you use your knee to nudge her legs apart. Kneeling between her parted thighs you kiss across her chest to her other nipple, cupping her breast in your hands and massaging them gently.

Hearing her little moans leave her lips is intoxicating. When Joel moans it’s usually deep and from his chest, but she’s so pliant to you right now, sweet, little high-pitched whimpers leaving her parted lips.

You kiss down her body, gently nipping at her hip bone, a small squeak of surprise fills the room. You kiss the sore spot gently and settle yourself between her legs. Now that you’re this close to her pussy you are almost unsure of yourself. You swallow the lump building in your throat. Joel can see you hesitating.

“Taste her, Little Dove,” he whispers. “Just place a long lick from the bottom to the top. Go slowly.”

You place your tongue flat near the entrance and slowly slide your tongue up. She tastes amazing. Sweet with a hint of saltiness, she gasps and twitches as you hit certain spots.

“Did you feel that, baby?” Joel asks.

You nod your head and repeat the same lick, mapping out the spots that drive her wild. Once you have them figured out Joel speaks up again, “Good girl. Use the tip of your tongue and put more pressure on those spots. Swirl your tongue around them. Figure out what makes her twitch.”

“Fuck this is so hot,” she whimpers as you follow Joel’s instructions.

You swirl your tongue around her hardening clit, before lapping up the fresh wave of her arousal, moaning at the taste of her. She’s shifting underneath you, one of her hands tangling in your hair.

“Tease her with your fingers, Little Dove. Slide one in, just a little while you lick her.”

“Yesyesyes” she chants, breaths coming in quickly. The way her breasts rise and fall causes a throb in between your legs. You thought you were orgasmed out but she looks incredible. You slide your middle finger in, stopping at the first knuckle, curling it forward. She cries out, you aren’t ready for her to cum yet so you pull your tongue away and place little kisses around her mound, carefully avoiding the sensitive spots as you explore her more with your finger.

“You’re so tight. Do you want me to use two?” You ask, sliding your finger in all the way. If you were Joel, you’d never want to be anywhere else than in between your legs. He was right, this is a feeling that can’t be described. There’s an almost overwhelming sense of power once you’ve figured out what they like and have relaxed enough to enjoy it.

“Please. Oh god - yes please.” She’s almost mumbling the words between moans and when you slide your ring finger in with the middle her legs start to shake.

“You gonna cum?” You ask, kitten licking at her clit.

“Don’t stop,” she whines. You curl your fingers again hearing the squelching of how wet you’ve made her and then suck her hard little clit into your mouth. She calls your name out to the room, “Yes yes. Just like that. Fuuuuuck.”

You can feel her cunt tightening around your fingers. “Stay at the pace, Little Dove. You’re doing so well.” Joel’s voice seems thicker and you wonder if he’s touching himself, but you keep your focus on her. She looks like a goddess in the dim lighting of the room, head thrown back and mouth open, calling out your name through her moans. You feel the wetness between your thighs growing.

“I’m gonna cum,” she cries before you feel her pussy spasm around your fingers. You keep your pace the same, curling your fingers forward and tracing the edges of her pulsing clit. You’ll go until she says to stop, even if your jaw is starting to cramp. You feel drunk watching her, this is so much better than you could have imagined.

“Ride me,” she says, squirming out of your grasp. She straightens one leg and you crawl up, straddling yourself around her raised leg, hooking her knee in your arm across your body. The wetness between the two of you is magical, sliding your clits against each other.

You can see Joel now, he shifts in the chair as he removes his jeans, freeing his cock from his boxers. He spits in his palm and starts to stroke himself in time with the two of you.

“Does that feel good?” She asks, bringing your eyes back to her.

You nod, biting your bottom lip as the tension behind your belly button starts to build. You grind your hips in slow circles as she moves back and forth, both of you growing wetter.

“God your pussy feels so good against mine,” you moan between her gasps. “You’re making such a mess.”

She wraps her hands around your hips and pushes you down onto her hard, grinding into you faster as both of you start to breathe heavier. “Don’t fuck stop,” she whines.

“So needy. This little pussy,” you say. You’re not entirely sure what’s come over you, Joel’s ragged breaths from his chair fill you with encouragement, he loves hearing you talk dirty to her. “Wanna cum all over your tight cunt.”

You hear Joel’s breathing jump, glancing over to see him spilling into his hand. The tension in your stomach snaps, and you look back at her as the two of you cum together, grinding sloppily. The sounds of your wet pussy’s rubbing together and your moans and squeals are the only thing you can hear.

You both ride it out together, you feel like you’ve been cumming for hours by the time it slows. Both of you calming your movements. You kiss her kneecap before falling to the bed beside her, the two of you gasping for breath. Joel sits quietly, smiling over at you.

“Fuck,” she says after a few minutes of silence. “Are you sure you aren’t a lesbian?”

You and Joel both laugh. “I think it’s safe to say that my Little Dove is bisexual.”

You giggle to the ceiling and then look towards her, “I think it’s safe to say that I’m only straight for Joel Miller.”

Taglist:

@corazondebeskar @hiddenbabynyc @rainstorms-library @smutsmutslut @sullyrocky44 @keylimebeag @pimosworld @casa-boiardi @pedritoferg @paleidiot @lorilane33 @pansexual-potatoes @baar-ur @jessthebaker @jasminedragoon @koshkaj-blog @pedroswife69 @strawberri-blonde @none-of-this-makes-any-sense @iloveenya @javierpena-inatacvest @wannab-urs

587 notes · View notes

neesieiumz · 7 months

Text

catharsis || ──────── s. aizawa

day five — SOMNOPHILIA / VOICE KINK / DADDY KINK

『 synopsis 』 after a long patrol, your husband comes with an ache only you can sate, only to find you deep in sleep

『 warnings 』 — 18+. sm*t. minors do not interact. husband!aizawa. pro-hero!reader. p*orn with very little plot. that's why it's shorter than my normal fics. established relationship. she is a natural disasters hero. and he has his normal job. somnophilia. voice kink. daddy kink. he is very much in love with you. like borderline obsessed with you. and vice-versa as well. female reader. black-coded reader but anyone can read. he calls you a slut but you enjoy it. sweet aftercare. was this self indulgent? i plead the fifth, how bout that?

『 writers notes 』 honestly feel like i overdid with the daddy kink but here we are! hope you enjoy it and you won't get a new ktober fic until next week tuesday! check the masterlist!

『 word count 』 3.0k

previous fic in ktober | masterlist | next fic in ktober

The night had fallen upon your home before you had known it, the twinkling stars gazing down at you, the full moon’s brightness fully mocking your somnolence. You could no longer stay up for him, no matter how much you tried. You had waited for long before sleep was beginning to overtake your body, and you knew this was another night you’d go without being able to see your husband.

Your husband was Eraserhead to the world, but at home, he was Shouta to you. Your Shouta. The two of you were heroes, after all, that was how the two of you met. You knew the long nights that came with the job, especially with him being a teacher as well.

Dressed in a thin two-piece set, in a pale baby blue, you lay on your bed, covered in your warm sheets, with nothing but the sounds of your automated fan blowing cool air into your room, combatting the heated summer night outside. With school out, and your husband only getting a reduced check from his main source of income, he had no choice but to join up in nightly patrols, his main specialty when it comes to hero work.

The two of you found each other while working patrols late at night, you being a new transfer from a faraway city on the outskirts of Japan, where natural disasters were then likely to occur.

“Eraserhead, what kind of name is that?” Your smile was wide, contagious even.

The two of you stood in an alleyway, with him hanging upside down from it, his eyes obscured by the bulky yellow goggles he constantly wore.

“Trust me, I was definitely not the one to make it.” His voice was deep and grave, it slightly echoed through the alley.

“That means whoever made the name must have been pretty special huh?”

It was silent for a moment, and for a moment, you thought you hit a nerve, anxiety rising within you.

“Yeah, I guess you can say they were.”

You gleaned up at him, seeing some semblance of a smile on his face. This caused your own smile to widen slightly, standing up straight.

Your marriage was a private one, one with family and friends only, a short, quiet, and intimate event. The two of you only had a week off for your honeymoon, during the time of which students were out for school to not mess with his schedule. The two of you are extremely busy, with his job as a hero course teacher and of course your own as a rescue and natural disasters hero. The two of you barely had time for each other, easily taking what you could with each other. You knew what came with dating and eventually marrying another hero, especially with someone like your Shouta.

You lay across the bed, sighing as you relaxed into the comfort of the comforters, onto the softness of the mattress. Closing your eyes, hoping to bring a new day, hopefully with your husband’s arms comfortably snug around your waist.

— — — —

You heard a squeak first.

Your eyes barely cracked open, still heavy with sleep, as the squeaking sound got louder and longer for a moment and then stopped altogether. You didn’t move, your heart racing and beating drums within your chest as the sound of muffled footsteps got closer and closer to your bed. You could hear ruffling, like clothes were being moved before the familiar fresh scent of mahogany and lavender, your body relaxing as you did so. You opened your eyes a little bit further, being able to see the clock on your bedside table, seeing the number 2:34 glowing from the digital clock. This was a first, you never woke up when he came home from patrols, you always found yourself being wrapped up in his arms when you woke up in the morning. You tried to find the confines of sleep, hoping to easily slip into it, knowing you’ll wake up in your husband’s arms once more.

Creaakkk…

His footsteps got closer and closer, his scent slowly gaining intensity as something within went off, like chilling tingles crawling up your spine. You could feel his eyes staring holes into you, possibly scanning your entire form wrapped up in your blankets. A familiar tingling sensation began to erupt and spread through you. It had been months since the last time he touched you, the two of you being completely swamped with work. Suddenly, the bedframe creaked, as you felt the mattress underneath you slightly dip. He was so close to you, his knee grazing up against your back, the blanket being the only thing that kept the two of you lightly touching. Droplets of water, possibly from his shower that he took when you were still deep in sleep, dripped down onto you, feeling the cool, wet spots from your blanket. You kept yourself as still as possible, sleep still dancing in your eyes. And then, all of a sudden, he crouched down, the bed creaking along as he did.

It took all your self-control not to gasp as you felt his erection pressing up against you. Even with the blanket, you could still feel it. You held back the slight gasp out a slight moan as he pushed his hip in between your bottom. He let out a hefty groan, his head falling right beside your own, his lips right next to your ear as he did. You could feel yourself clenching around nothing, feeling yourself beginning to drip down your thighs and stain your thin shorts. All of your self-control was slipping piece by piece, your body aching and wanting for him. Your breathing became shaky, you know he could hear it, and yet he continued his actions. You could feel his lips slowly press up kisses along your cheek and jawline. His nose nestled itself in between your ear and your hairline that peeked from the night-time scarf you wore, before taking a deep breath in, taking your freshly washed scent, your body wash, as well as your nighttime hair products.

“You smell so good,” his voice wasn't strained, as if he was holding back as well.

“I missed you so much,” he spoke again, the bed creaking again as he moved, his hands beginning to move down, thumbing along the hemline of your shorts.

“I’m sorry I haven’t been here as much, snowflake,” he mumbled in your ear, his hand now officially slipping down into your shorts.

His fingers slipped in between your legs, two of his fingers easily spreading your lips apart, cool air hitting your clit, causing your body to tremble ever so slightly. Your mouth is slightly agape, drool slowly dripping out of your mouth onto your pillow. His fingers easily spilled into the mess in between your legs, pressing up against your clit. Carefully, he massaged circles into you, every movement slow and deliberate, as if he didn’t want to wake you. He probably didn’t wake you up. You had just gotten home from aiding a beach town devastated by a hurricane, pulling people out from rubble, and creating emergency service tents.

“I know you just got back, but I…” he trailed off on his words as his fingers slipped further down, sliding in between your labia.

“I can’t hold myself back, fuck.”

Your husband sounded so pretty, his voice straining every syllable as his hips ground more and more into you. By now, your shorts were a mess, and your underwear soaked with your juices. No longer able to hold yourself back, you softly pushed your hips back against his fingers, and hard-on. He most definitely felt your movements, letting out a massive groan as his dick twitched underneath his boxers.

“Naughty girl, such a slut even in your sleep…” his chuckle echoed against your bedroom walls, as his fingers dipped in even further, one of them pressing into your hole.

“Everytime I have to stay away from you, whether it be my job, or your own job, I can feel myself descending into madness–” his words suddenly cut off with a guttural groan, his hips suddenly giving off a sharp thrust.

“I am obsessed with you, you know that right?”

Tears dripped down your eyes, staining your pillows as his words enchanted you, sending great shocks of ecstasy through you. You could feel yourself trembling, only aching for him more and more. His own boxers were sticky with pre-cum, you could feel it oozing onto your satin shorts, slowly mixing in with your own soaked juices. His hand slowly pulled themselves away from your cunt, the sudden loss of pleasure causing your emotions to deflate before feeling that very same hand pulling at the hem of your shorts. You kept as still as possible as his large hands pulled your shorts down around your ankles, revealing your wet pussy.

“Agh, fuck,” is all he could say as he suddenly sat up for a moment.

You could hear shuffling in the background, most likely him taking off his boxers, hearing some kind of fabric being thrown in the air and landing on the floor. You felt his hands back on you, before feeling the tip of cock press up against your cunt, slipping and sliding in between your lips, gathering some of your juices. With a final swipe, before you knew it, you felt him press the tip at your pussy, your body trembling as he began to push it.

“Baby, baby fuck–”

He pushed himself deeper into you, your eyes squeezed shut, your cunt throbbing around him.

“Missed you, missed you so fucking much,”

You had never heard him ramble like that, his usually deep gravelly voice seeped in desperation. His hands gripped at the meat of your thigh, holding your place as he rutted his hips into you. Your lips parted, and the entire area underneath them was drenched with sweat. Your hands tightly squeeze the comforter. The heat was overtaking you, a violent intensity grappling at you. Your thoughts that once ran wild soon became filled with one thought, Shouta. Everything about him was different, the way his voice hit your ears, each syllable easily ripping a new reaction out of you. It was only a matter of time before you lost control before he knew you were awake, feeling everything he was doing to you.

“My wife, my pretty wife,” he groaned, his hands moving up and about.

“How could I fucking stay away from you?”

With his strength, he moved you about with ease. You no longer lay at your side, but instead, your knees dug into the mattress, your stomach lying against the bed. He pressed his hand against your back, your back arching up against him. He never pulled his cock out of you, staying snug inside you as he positioned you to where he wanted you to be.

As soon as you were in position, he held no mercy towards you. Pounding away at you, like a man with nothing else to live for at that moment but to ravage you. Tears welled in your eyes as absolute euphoric pleasure took over you, it came as quick as lighting. With the sudden overload on your senses, your control over your actions snapped.

A moan slipped out of your lips, the sound causing him to falter for just a moment. With the wet sound of skin against skin, he leaned down once more, moving his long hair out of his face, finally allowing him to see the tears streaming down your face, your eyes slightly opened, rolled to the back of your head, mouth agape with spit dripping down.

One of Shouta’s hands stayed at your hips while the other suddenly reached down, wrapping around underneath your chin, pulling your body upwards with ease. Your hands propped you up as he pulled your head back, your eyes locking. The position allowed you to see just how frenzied your husband looked. His thick fat cock plunging mg into you, each movement only escalating him more and more.

“How long have you been awake sweetheart? Huh, liked what I was doing to you? Hmm?”

You tried to speak, but the only thing that could slip out of your mouth was pleas if you could even call it that.

“Daddy, Daddy-fuck, it’s too–fuck!” You screeched, gripping at the pillow as your eyes squeezed shut, overcome by the sudden frenzied thrusts your husband was sending your way.

“Dirty little slut, letting me think you were asleep ? How long were you awake for?”

For a moment, you couldn’t answer him, only focused on the effervescent volcano building up within you. All of a sudden, his thrusts slowed down, causing you to whine as you looked back at his teary eyes.

“I asked you, how long have you been awake?”

“Since the moment—ahh– you walked in! Since the moment, you walked in, please don’t stop fucking me, Daddy!”

Shouta suddenly pulled all the way out, your cunt only squeezing around the tip of his fat cock, before slamming it back into you, almost hitting and bruising your cervix. Both you and his own moans and groans echoed into the air, mixing together in a beautiful melody. His hand left your chin, your body flopping forward for a couple seconds before suddenly feeling your arms being jerked back. Your moans became scream-like as he grabbed at both of your wrists, suddenly pulling your arms back.

“Fuck,” he cursed, hissing as he pummeled into you, “so fucking tight–huh, you like the way I fuck you, huh?”

You could barely get any words out, shaking your head vigorously, clenching around him. Every plunge into your cunt devoured you, your husband’s moans and groans had your body trembling. His growls reverberated within your ears, only causing your body to curl in pleasure.

“I said,” he suddenly cut into your thoughts, your body jerking up even further, “you like the way I fuck you, slut”

“Yes, daddy!”

Shouta’s chuckle was deep, and his thrusts only overwhelmed you even further. You relished in the way your skin took the pain, feeling the bloom and sting tingle all over you. If you could blush, you knew the bottom of your thighs would be blooming red. Your tongue lolled out of your mouth, your eyes rolling out the back of your head. All of a sudden, Shouta dropped your arms, your body flopping, back arching into the bed as his hands gripped at the flesh at your hips and butt. His thrusts became erratic in nature, his already broken-down composure crumbling even further. You could hear his breathy words, soaking in the neediness laced within them.

“Missed you so fucking much, my wife– my fucking wife.”

“Look so fucking pretty, so fucking senstive f’ me.”

“Missed this pretty fucking pussy, hate how much I have to leave you–fuck!”

Shouta’s body lurched, towering over your own. You could feel his sweat dripping down from his body, falling like light rain into your almost bareback, your thin night-top crumpled up at your bosom. Your hands crumpled up the blankets and sheets underneath you, the feeling of your tongue slightly grazing against the fabric. Your words soon dulled out, the only thing on your tongue was your monas and coherent words putting together the title you called him in bed. You could feel your cunt tightening up around him, like a ticking time bomb going off within you.

“Such a sweet fucking pussy– fuck–” his body suddenly lunched, the bruising grip he had on your hip tightening.

Your body convulsed, shaking in his hold as your mind went blank white, tears streaking out of your eyes as your climax ripped out of you, your juices spilling and ripping all over him.

“Daddy!—” your final words cut, your voice echoing against the white walls of your room.

With a final grunt, you felt your husband slump over, feeling his dick twitching inside of you, painting your walls white. Soon, the only thing you could hear was the sounds of your heavy breathing, both your and Shouta’s as well. You let out a whimper as you felt him pull out his cock out of you, leaving you with withdrawal. Without him letting go of your hips, your legs fully slumped onto the wet bed. With hands still around you, shrieking as he swept you up from the bed. You held onto him as your husband slowly got off the bed, turning your head to see him slip into your bedroom’s bathroom, using one hand to turn the light on. He placed you on the toilet, before walking to your sink. You couldn't help the soft smile that slowly appeared on your face as you heard the faucet turn on.

He walked back over with a rag, slowly opening up your legs as you both felt and saw your cum mixed with his, dripping down your inner thigh. He moved the warm rag against your skin, letting out a short gasp as he grazed the rag against your sensitive cunt, cleaning up the main source of the mess. You heard your husband let out a breath of a chuckle, seeing a ghost of a smirk etched on his face. Your soft smile turned abashed as your hand reached up, smacking him slightly on his shoulder. Your brick house of a husband didn’t even flinch from your smack, continuing to clean you up. Soon you could feel nothing but the touch of water on your legs. Once finished, your husband slowly pulled your soaked shorts down the rest of the way, before tossing them into your laundry hamper. With nothing else, he carried you back to the bed.

The two of you slipped underneath the sheets, his arm easily wrapping your waist as he pulled you close. You had no use of the pillows, using your husband’s naked chest, humming at the warmth that radiated off of his body. Before you knew it, you had laid a soft kiss against the beefy shoulder of your husband, before snuggling back into him. You both heard and felt him move, smiling as you felt a soft pressure against the top of your head, feeling the sensation of lips. With that, you drifted off to sleep, slowly hearing your own husband’s snores echo into her.

2K notes · View notes

straykeedz · 7 months

Text

day 1: bang chan + praise

©straykeedz

tw: mentions of jealousy and insecurities; female anatomy; semi-clothed sex (reader is naked but chan keeps his clothes on); softdom!chan; nipple play; oral (f receiving); unprotected piv sex (don’t do that at home 🤨); light ass play (it’s barely even there honestly); creampie; aftercare ♡

wc: 3,1k

🔖 (open): @linos-kitten ; @luneskies ; @kxcies-blog ; @idunnomanmynamewastaken ; @cessixja ; @stolasisyourparent ; @kookiesbunny ; @xoxo-xoxo-bunny ; @ivyskzsworld ; @mal-lunar-28 ; @leetaste ; @sunnykynnie ; @channiesgoodgirl ; @seonghwatoothless ; @mrsminho ; @seungminluv3 ; @jin-from-the-block ; @aaasia111 ; @sulkygyu ; @whosanaanyway ; @y-ur--I ; @vixensss ; @nightimescapes ; @freckleboilix ; @dreamingaboutjisung ; @yourbeomiebear ; ♡

this is part of my kinktober masterlist. you can find my regular masterlist here (tho it will not be updated until the end of kinktober) ♡

smut below the cut, minors dni.

♡

“Look at me.”

Chan’s voice echoes in your room. He is kneeling between your legs, still completely dressed, with the sleeves of his unbuttoned shirt rolled up his forearms as his hands rest on each of your knees. You’re on your back, laying on your bed, legs spread to welcome his body between them. You’re in only your underwear - your clothes scattered on the floor, but you couldn’t care less.

“Look at me.” Chan repeats, and you do as he says, snapping your head up to meet his eyes - dark with lust. His hands travel all over your thighs, gently squeezing the flesh with his fingers as he does so. “You were jealous tonight, weren’t you? Of that girl.”

To this day, Chan is still the only person who can read you like an open book. Even at the club, he immediately knew something was up with you - he could see it in the way you wouldn’t look him in the eyes, the way you’d bite your cheek nervously when he was talking to you. All because you were jealous of the girl he’d been talking with at that stupid party. It was a brief interaction, though it was enough to make your stomach twist nonetheless. You couldn’t help but compare her to you and damn - she was beautiful, and she looked just like Chan’s type.

You nod without uttering a single word, too embarrassed to voice your insecurities.

“There’s no need to be jealous, baby girl.” Chan speaks, and the pet name he calls you has you shivering under his soft touch, his hands glued to your skin. “I’m yours.”, he whispers.

Your breath hitches when you hear those words and tears well up in your eyes. You wish you weren’t so damn insecure. You lower your gaze, but Chan promptly places two fingers under your chin and lifts your head up, forcing you to meet his eyes once again. He’s smiling. Not a cocky smile, neither a smirk - a warm, sweet smile, the smile you love so much.

“Chan…”

“I’m yours.”, he repeats, taking your hand between his, before placing it on top of his chest. “Can you feel it?”, he asks, referring to his heartbeat. You nod, looking at him through your eyelashes. “It beats for you.”, he whispers. “Got it, baby girl?”, he asks.

You nod, looking him in the eyes - he knows you’re being honest. “You know my heart beats for you only, too.”, you murmur, not taking your eyes off of him.

He smiles at you, leaning in to kiss your lips - a chaste kiss despite you being half naked under him. “I know, baby.”, he nuzzles your nose with his, then pecks your lips once again. “We’re soulmates.”, his words make your stomach twist - this time, with joy. “That’s why there’s no need to be jealous.”, he points out and you know he’s right, it’s just… insecurities are a bitch, and there isn’t much you can do about it.

“I know, Chan, it’s just…”, you mumble, lowering your gaze.

“It’s just?”, he encourages you. He hates not knowing what’s going on in your mind, especially if it’s important enough to make you feel this way.

“I guess I’ve been feeling a bit more insecure lately…”, you admit with a sigh, still not looking at him.

He looks at you with furrowed eyebrows. “More insecure?”, he asks, stressing the first word. “Why are you feeling insecure in the first place, baby?”, he asks, tone soothing and sincerely concerned.

“Because you’re you and I’m… me.”, you simply state.

Chan chuckles, shaking his head. “What does this even mean?”, he asks. He doesn’t want to come off as disrespectful towards you - he just genuinely can’t comprehend why on earth would you feel insecure about yourself when you look insanely gorgeous in his eyes.

“You’re perfect, Chan. Handsome, fit, charming…”, you whine. “And I look like this.”, you cover your face with both of your hands.

“Yeah, like a fucking goddess.”

“You’re just saying that to make me feel better.”, you whisper, not convinced at all by his words.

But Chan’s not having this tonight, so he delicately wraps his fingers around your wrists and removes your hands from your face, forcing you to look him in the eyes. “I’m saying it because I mean it.”, he states, dead serious, piercing eyes staring into yours. “You’re fucking beautiful. Understood?”, he asks you, fingers still around your wrists.

You gulp, swallowing the lump in your throat as you nod slowly.

“Good.”, he grins. He lets go of your wrists and his fingers immediately go to the button of his jeans, undoing it pretty quickly, then he unzips them. “Now - I’m going to give you the fucking of your life.”

Your eyes widen and you can feel wetness pool in your underwear, goosebumps all over your skin as you watch him pull his pants and underwear down just enough to free his hard cock, not even bothering to slide them down the curve of his ass as he unbuttons his shirt, revealing his bare chest.

“Panties and bra.”, his voice vibrates in his chest. “Off.”, he demands with a grunt.

You hook your thumbs on each side of your panties and slowly begin to pull them down your legs, lifting your ass in order to remove them completely, kicking them off for good, revealing your bare pussy to him - a mouthwatering sight that, Chan is pleased to certify, never fails to amaze him. Then, you sit on the mattress and unclasp your bra, and now that you find yourself so close to his hard dick, you stretch your hand to wrap your fingers around its thick base, but Chan is faster and halts your movements.

“Not tonight.”, he shakes his head as a no. “Tonight’s about you. Now lie down for me, baby girl.”

His body is immediately on yours, and he wastes no time in latching his mouth to the skin of your neck, humming and grunting when he hears you moan and whine under his touch. Then, he cups one of your breasts with the palm of his hand.

“Fucking perfect.”, he moans against your skin as he delicately pinches your nipple. Meanwhile, his teeth delicately scrape the soft flesh of your collarbone. “You’ve got the prettiest tits.”, he kisses and licks the skin between your boobs as he continues to play with your nipple, earning a series of whines from you. “So pretty.”, he murmurs as his mouth gets closer and closer to your other breast, a few inches away from your neglected nipple.

“Chan.”, you whine when he latches his mouth to your nipple, engulfing it between his plump lips as he sucks on it. He sucks and sucks and sucks - and then he bites, making you see stars as you can feel yourself clenching around nothing, pussy so wet you’re sure you’re dripping on the sheets.

“You like it when I play with your pretty tits, don’t you?” Chan teases - he already knows the answer, but you nod anyway, biting your lower lip as he takes your nipple back in his wet mouth, licking and sucking as if his life depended on it, as if it’s his fucking job.

“Mhhh, fuck.” Chan moans, pulling away from your nipple, a string of saliva connecting his mouth to it. “Gonna make you cum just from this - from me sucking on your tits.”, he announces before engulfing your nipple with his plump lips, tongue delicately swirling around it as his fingers keep on playing with your other one.

He knows you can cum just from that - you already have with him, and he knows what to do to send you over the edge in record time. So you fall apart under his touch with a guttural grunt less than a couple of minutes later, toes curling as you cum - Chan’s fingers pinching one nipple and his plump lips suck on the other one, teeth occasionally scraping the surface of your sensitive skin.

“Chan…”, you whimper as you find your release.

“You’re so hot when you cum for me, baby girl.” Chan praises you as he lets go of your nipples while you’re trying to catch your breath. “The most beautiful sight.”

“Chan, baby…”, you whine, cupping his face in both of your hands. “Want you.”

He’s absolutely in love with how desperate you’re sounding right now, but God knows he’s not done with you yet. Not even remotely close to being done with you. He wants you to know how much he loves you and your body, how much you turn him on, how you have him wrapped around your fingers. He needs you to know.

“Not yet, baby.”, he pecks your lips as he props himself up on his elbow, his other hand brushing the skin of your body all the way from your breast to your pubic bone, right on your groin. “Think you can give me another one?”, he nuzzles your nose with his.

You nod timidly, and you think he’s about to make you cum on his fingers, when you feel him lift his body and kneel between your legs - hard cock looking painfully red and leaking pre-cum - before laying flat on his stomach right between your legs to the point he’s basically making eye-contact with your wet pussy. Oh.

Chan is a big fan of oral sex - whether it is receiving it or giving it, even though he doesn’t please you with his mouth as much as he’d like to, mostly because you get impatient and practically beg him to fuck you already. Tonight, tho, he’s not giving in, no matter how much you beg him. Tonight you’re going to cum on his tongue and then he’s going to fuck you.

“The prettiest pussy.”, he comments, as the pads of his fingers delicately brush against the skin of your labia. “My pussy.”, he grunts, eyes lock on your clit that’s basically screaming for attention.

He contemplates the idea of teasing you, but then decides he’ll leave that for another time, because it’s not what tonight’s about. So, without uttering another word, he licks a long stripe that goes from your wet slit to your clit - pleased with the way you whine and kick your head back as you grip on the bedsheets.

“Fuck.”, you moan when he repeats the previous action, only this time you don’t kick your head back - instead, you make eye-contact with him as he licks you clean from your previous orgasm.

“Mhh, so sweet too.”, he hums against your skin as he swallows your arousal. “I love to taste you. I love to get my mouth on you, promise you’ll let me do this more often.”, he places a kiss directly on your clit, making you squirm under his touch.

“Yes. Fuck, yes.”, you pant when he wraps his lips around your sensitive nub, pleased with your answer. He lets go of your clit only to dampen his lips by licking them, and then he’s back to sucking on your most delicate spot, knowing it drives you crazy.

“Good girl.”, he praises, now playing with your clit using the tip of his skilled tongue, making you see stars. “This is my pussy.”, he sucks - hard. “Only I get to pleasure you this way, right?”, he rhetorically asks, and sucks again.

“Yours. Only you.”, you pant, mind blank as you try to fight the urge to cum on his tongue - you want this to last a little more, but the way he’s now licking your pussy tells you he wants to get you off as soon as possible.

He eats you out as if it’s his last meal. He alternates long sucks on your clit with kitten licks, then lets the tip of his tongue do the rest, and you can already feel your second orgasm building up in your stomach. With another hard suck on your clit, you fall apart under him for the second time, chanting his name like a prayer as you release, a bit of your arousal dripping onto the sheets, but Chan is quick to lick them clean, savoring your taste and swallowing gladly.

“Liked it?” Another rhetorical question, since he can see your legs are practically shaking - a clear sign you enjoyed his mouth on you.

“Loved it.”, you respond, and he smiles at you - chin glistening with your cum.

“Good.”, he kneels between your legs and wraps his slender fingers around his cock, stroking it a couple of times and smearing his own arousal all over his pink tip. “Now turn around.”

You gulp, eyes widening as soon as you hear those words. “What?”

“Turn around.”, he repeats. “Face down, ass up. I reckon I promised you the fucking of your life, didn’t I?”, he smirks.

You do as he demanded, mouth watering at the thought of your sweet Chan giving it to you good from behind. You should feel at least a little embarrassed to be completely naked and on full display in front of him, who’s still fully clothed behind you, but you don’t. In fact, you couldn’t care less as both your mouth and pussy are drooling in anticipation. Somehow, the fact that his clothes are still on makes it even more exciting.

“So obedient. My sweet girl.” Chan comments as he positions himself behind you, the tip of his cock brushing against your entrance, kissing your slit. One hand wraps around the base of his thick cock, while he grips on your waist with the other, keeping you in place.

He’s delicate when he pushes inside - knowing that you’re a lot more sensitive from this angle, and that you can feel him even deeper. Perhaps this is the reason why he chose this position, perhaps he wants you to feel all of him. There’s nothing you can do to prevent the guttural sound that escapes your throat when he’s fully buried inside of you, and you swear you can feel its very tip kissing your cervix from this angle.

“You good?” Chan asks, whimpering, as he grabs your hips with his other hand as well. He wants to make sure he’s not hurting you in any way.

“Good. Full.”, is all you’re able to say.

He chuckles. “You feel so good around me, baby.”, he moans, starting to thrust back and forth inside of you at a steady rhythm. “Take my cock so well.”, he praises you, gripping tighter on your hips.

The slapping sounds of skin against skin soon fill your bedroom, and you’re both left incapable of speaking for a while - him, too blessed with the feeling of having your tight walls wrapped around him, you with how good his cock is pounding inside of you.

“Feels so big inside of me, Chan.”, you pant, gripping on the sheets so tight he can see your knuckles turn white.

See, Chan is a sucker for praise. He loves praising you, but when you praise him? God, have mercy on him. He starts pounding inside of you even faster now, however not too roughly. “Yeah? You like my cock?”, he asks breathless - hair sticking to his sweaty forehead as he thrusts relentlessly.

“I love it.”, you purr, and you can feel him twitch inside of you - a signal he’s close. “It’s so perfect, Chan. It’s big and long and thick and-“

“Fuck.”, he curses, thrusting a bit harder - his balls slapping against your clit. “I love your pussy so much, baby.”, he pants. “I love you so fucking much.”, the words roll off his tongue easily and almost automatically, a sign he’s being honest.

“I love you too.”, you turn your head to look at him over your shoulder, mouth agape as he slides his cock in and out of you relentlessly. “Yeah, give it to me like that.”, you purr.

You see him biting his lower lip, eyes closed. “Fuck, you’re so hot.”, a particular hard thrust makes you moan in pure pleasure. “Make me so hard all the time.” Chan starts to ramble. “Even tonight, fuck. I got so hard while looking at you. You were so beautiful in that dress. You’re always beautiful.”

You can already feel another orgasm building up in your stomach - thanks to his amazing cock and his words, a deadly combination. “Chan, you’re gonna make me cum.”, you announce with a moan, your walls squeezing him even tighter to the point he finds it hard to move inside of you.

“Again?”, he asks, a bit surprised. Three times in one sitting is not a record for the two of you, but it’s also not that common as well, so he’s proud with himself.

“Mh-hm.”, you hum. “Cock’s too good.”

“Fuck, baby, I’m close, too. Cum for me. Give me another one.”, desperation in his voice as his hips move more frantically now, cock throbbing inside of you.

What sends you over the edge, tho, is when he taps your other hole with the pad of his thumb - not sliding it in, just brushing your rim with it and occasionally tapping on the sensitive flesh. That has you cumming in record time, squeezing him so hard it almost hurts as you cream around his length, which is what sends him over the edge as well.

“God, I’m- I’m cumming, fuck.”

He spills inside of you with a deep, hoarse grunt, gripping tight on your waist as he shoots all of his load in your pussy, careful not to waste a single drop, still buried deep inside of you. It takes him a few seconds to come off his intense high, and eventually he loosens the grip on your hips and begins to pull out, watching mesmerized as his cum mixed with yours starts dripping out of your hole - still so tight even after what you just did. He delicately taps you on the flesh of your ass, motioning for you to lie down on your stomach and just relax - he knows your legs must be probably sore.

He disappears from the bedroom only to come back a few seconds later with a wet washcloth, then lies down on the bed next to you and brings it between your legs to clean you up from both yours and his body fluids, careful not to overstimulate you as he peppers your shoulder with soft kisses.

“I love you so much…”, he whispers against your skin.

“I love you too.”, you murmur, shifting on the bed only to bury your face in his neck, nuzzling your nose against his skin.

“Promise me you won’t feel insecure ever again.”, he kisses the top of your head. You can’t promise him that - it’s not something you have control over. You gulp, swallowing the lump in your throat, but don’t answer him. He sighs. “At least, promise me that every time you feel insecure, you’ll tell me. So that I can prove you how much I love you.” That you can do. “Deal?”

You nod, a smile spreads on your face. You place a kiss on his chest.

“Deal.”

♡

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