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#i imagine he’s talkative during sex too
planetaryupscaled · 3 days
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Tutoring 2: Hall Pass
Male Reader x Park Sooyoung (Joy)
Tags: 9k, age-gap, cheat, creampie, cuckold
The story is not ours; we simply alter the original story to our preferred settings.
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“So you’re not mad?” Sooyoung asked her husband as they sat down at the kitchen table... the same place where I’ve had my way with her so many times.
“I don’t think I am,” Hyoseob answered, truthfully.
He tried to imagine what it would have been like for me and Sooyoung in the school shower, and then in the car. He tried to picture her glistening pussy lips around my throbbing dick, and how I licked and caressed her dear wife. How much better was it that his dutiful wife chose infidelity not once, but twice. She cheated, willingly, despites of the rules, and this thought made his loins burn. Sooyoung was behaving like a wanton slut, which was in stark contrast to her prideful personality.
Among all the rules broken, the rule about it being recorded was the only one he truly hoped she would follow. But deep down, he wanted her to break the rules over and over again, and he only wanted to watch. He had that burning desire, but he couldn’t admit it, especially to Sooyoung.
“I don’t like admitting it, but he makes it kinda hard to resist,” Sooyoung stated, averting her gaze. “He’s so much different from what you think he’d be. His thrusts are so deliberate and so skillfully measured and confident. It makes me so-” she said, unable to finish her sentence.
“Like just that one shower,” she rambled on, “I have no idea why I was so... receptive of his touch! I didn’t have it in mind to cheat at all and... suddenly it was already happening. I’m sorry, but his lips and his hands were so-”
Sooyoung stopped again. Her hands started fidgeting. The guilt was palpable, dripping from her words. Hyoseob had to make sure she was okay. He knew it was selfish, but he wanted to witness it himself, to see his wife being plowed like a wanton slut.
“Minho kissed you?” He probed. “Tell me.”
“Yes, well,” Sooyoung blushed and shrugged, “it was more intense and... amazing.”
“You kiss him back?” He asked again.
“A lot, actually. And... our tongues too,” she whispered in reply.
She was telling him everything, how it was just intense, amazing sex, that my abilities and stamina far outweighed his, but it was also just physical pleasure with no emotional attachment or love. Sooyoung swore to her husband that I meant nothing to her. He had to talk her into another meeting with me, this time with the recorder.
“Sounds like Minho has a fan,” He teased Sooyoung, but his tone gave him away. His heart pounded with both anxiety and excitement. Sooyoung cherished sex, and now she had shared it with someone other than him.
“Oh shut up,” Sooyoung said, but with a smile just lingering under the surface.
“So, what was the thing he said again?” Hyoseob asked.
“Yeah,” Sooyoung admitted as Hyoseob laid on top of her, “he said something like... ‘I’ll fuck you whenever I want.’” Her imitation of it was less than flattering.
“You want that?” Hyoseob dared to ask, excited at the idea of his lovely wife being taken against her will, during dubious consent, thrust into a willing participant by the magnificent skill of someone else.
“Maybe...” she purred, urging him to move his hips. Her admission sent shockwaves through him, as guilt and jealousy drove him deeper into his wife.
“And, ah, you wanted him to knock you up?” He asked, going a bit faster.
“Hyoseob, it was j-just talk,” Sooyoung purred. “I was just stroking his ego. But it worked. He cum so much inside me.”
“Yeah?” He panted.
“Yeah, babe.” she breathed. “So much. So thick, it clung to me.”
His breathing quickened as his mind conjured the image of Sooyoung sprawled beneath someone else in her car, in a damn near public parking lot. It didn’t take him long to cum deep inside her, unable to resist her words and description. She was more turned on by her cheating than he could have ever hoped for, so he told her that they needed it again and more. With the promise of more, they both fell into a deep slumber.
“I think we should stick with handjobs... reinforce the rules.,” Sooyoung suggested to her husband as she had scheduled another ‘Tutoring’ with me after school on Tuesday, but she was having second thoughts, wanting to reestablish the control they had lost. “I don’t think I want to have sex... with Minho again.”
“What?” Hyoseob asked, not believing his wife. “You’re joking,” He added. “If I sent you over there right now, you really think you’d only jerk him off?”
“Yeah?” Sooyoung answered unconvincingly.
He gave her a wry smile. “Then do it,” he said. “I’m giving you a hall pass to prove me wrong.” You haven’t done any ‘tutoring’ this week anyway.”
“Babe!” Sooyoung exclaimed, taken aback. “I can’t do that. It’s against the rules. And we were having this week off, remember?”
“That’s the point of a hall pass,” He chuckled, excited to see his wife relent. “Besides, you’d only be jerking him off, right? That’s well within the rules, even if it’s a hall pass.”
Sooyoung didn’t respond right away. She closed her eyes, trying not to be tempted by the challenge. It was as though she was afraid, afraid that she would succumb and more, prove him right in doing so.
“Don’t... don’t tempt me,” she said, finally. “Minho knows how to bend a girl to his will, honey.” She then cringed at her choice of words.
“Which is?” Hyoseob asked with a wide, hopeful smile.
She looked at him and then out into space. A smile spread across her lips, and her hand moved to his thigh.
“Just remember to record,” he said.
“Hey, I didn’t say I’m going over,” Sooyoung shot back, gently punching him with her other hand. “Remember, he got inside me last week, despite the rules. Twice, even. It’s... hard to resist him.”
“You said as much earlier,” He reminded.
“Yeah, he just feels amazing and does things that-” Sooyoung began before correcting herself. “…never mind.”
“That I can’t do?” Hyoseob said, finishing her sentence. Sooyoung’s silence spoke volumes, she took a breath, steadying her nerves. Then her eyes flashed in his direction, a devious expression growing.
“Okay,” Sooyoung said, “I’ll go, to prove you wrong.”
‘Im coming over,’ Sooyoung wrote, and soon after I met her once again at this house, and let her in through the back door. As it wasn’t conspicuous enough that Hyoseob’s wife snuck hurriedly across the street, looking up and down the street to make sure no one noticed.
“What about your parents?” Sooyoung whispered.
“Away, they usually are during the weekends,” I reassured, ushering her to their bedroom.
When we got through the door, I began feeling her up, eagerly ravaging her curvaceous yet trim body. Sooyoung initially did not react because she was unsure what to do. As my hands found their way to her soft, round ass, she began responding by kissing back with even more hunger. My fingers dug hungrily into the flesh hidden by her tight spandex pants. The ass she kept in shape for her husband. She hadn’t worn underwear, but she sure could feel my fingers running up and down her cheeks and inner thighs. Sooyoung spread them out, inviting me to go deeper.
Instead of shoving my fingers into her clothed fabric, I pushed her down onto the bed. My hands slid into the waistband and rolled her pants up her long legs. She lifted her hips as I tugged, letting the spandex to roll along with her panties.
“I can’t believe it’s been a week already,” I said, quickly removing her pink, silky, patterned top, revealing her round, fat tits, and tossing it over her other clothes.
“Damn, your tits look fucking nice,”
Sooyoung smiled as I stared at her body, groping and rubbing her left breast. My thick, erect member was tenting in my sweats. I pressed her tits together, climbed on top of her, and began licking all over them.
‘This is getting out of control,’ she thought. “C’mon, Minho,” Sooyoung whispered, pushing me to get my attention. Instead of slowing down, I licked and sucked her soft, creamy neck. “Minho… oh shit,” she whimpered, goosebumps rushing through her.
At some point, I must have angled my sweats down, because Sooyoung felt my swollen cock press against her opening, threatening entry. Her slit, wet with arousal, opened for me as I began sliding into this lovely wife.
“Unnnng,” Sooyoung groaned, helplessly succumbing to my touch, her pussy aching with anticipation.
It forces Sooyoung to admit her pleasure. She closed her eyes, enjoying the sensation. Sooyoung moaned in satisfaction, wrapping her arms tightly around my shoulders and neck. She knew her husband couldn’t compete in length, width, or technique, but feeling my size stretch and touch places that were severely under-stimulated brought her to new heights.
“I thought we were waiting till Tuesday,” I hummed as I lowered myself and dove into her neck once more. My cock slid almost completely into her tight warm hole, and my movements became quick, fluid motions that allowed me to pull almost completely out before driving deep inside.
“We were... ohhh,” Sooyoung groaned.
I was prepared to stretch, ruin, and ravish her, and all she planned was a handjob? The absurdity made her smile as she ran her fingernails up and down my back, enjoying the sensation of her tight pussy being stretched wide by someone that’s not her husband.
“Couldn’t wait, huh?” I teased.
“Hyoseob dared me to come over here and just jerk you off,” Sooyoung admitted, smiling up at me with a light sheen of sweat.
“How did that go?” I asked cheekily.
“Shut up,” Sooyoung smiled, squeezing me between her walls.
“Fuu-uck,” I groaned, shuffling my hips between her legs. “Nngg, you’re really gonna let me knock you up someday, aren’t you?”
“Hnnng, you keep that up and, oh god, maybe I will,” she gasped.
“Really? You like this cock knocking up your womb?” I pressed.
“Oh fuck,” Sooyoung hissed.
Sooyoung was getting increasingly vocal, moans of delight sounding out throughout the empty house as I kept slamming into her. My eyes were fixed on the beautiful teacher’s exposed breasts, rolling and flopping back and forth every time my body touched hers. Her nails clawed my back, and I grunted, feeling her walls tighten with each thrust. Her slickened insides massaging my dick, preparing for the next load...
I felt the cum start to boil over and surge to the end of my shaft. My cock was throbbing madly within her until it began releasing its hot fluids. I kept pumping, squirting over and over as I closed my eyes in satisfaction. Sooyoung felt her cunt ripple and pulse with each eruption. Her own juices flowed around the spewing shaft, coating my cock and dripping in a pool on the sheets under her.
I looked down at her. Her beautiful cheeks were flushed red and glistened with sweat. I pulled her head closer, pressing my forehead against hers, hanging low and grazing her face as I buried my softening dick in her womb, hoping to delay leaving her silky depths. She still moaned, feeling a gentle pumping within her. Sooyoung sighed, and we kissed.
Hyoseob smirked knowingly when his disheveled wife finally came through the door later that evening. Sooyoung didn’t even try to hide the slight waddle she’d acquired from the fucking, which made him snort a little laugh. She responded with a defiant glare, challenging him.
“We shouldn’t fool around with hall passes,” Sooyoung muttered, chuckling lightly.
“Did you record?”
“Not the first time...” Sooyoung said, a crooked smile creasing her face as she looked at him.
“How many times...” Hyoseob asked, trailing off. Sooyoung had been over there for two hours.
“How many...” she stalled. “Erm, three. Plus some foreplay here and there...”
“You slut!” He chided with a big grin.
“It’s your fault!” Sooyoung shot back. “Besides, how could you dare send him over there in the first place?!”
Hyoseob was as hard as a stone when he heard the news. Sooyoung pretended to be mad, but it was clear she enjoyed the whole experience.
“So… can we watch together?” He asked, hoping to experience some of his wife’s deviousness together.
“Oh yes, just make sure to hit ‘fast forward’ to skip all the dumb and unnecessary things. Minho was trying so hard to get me to clean his cock or whatever, but hell if I’m ever taking his dirty thing into my mouth... especially after sex... It smelled of us for gods’ sake.”
Hyoseob patted the seat beside him on the couch, inviting her to join him, but Sooyoung hesitated.
“Here?” she asked, rendering him a bit confused.
“Yeah? You’ve done stuff with Minho here, so what’s the big deal?”
“Nothing. You’re right,” Sooyoung decided and plopped down beside him.
She took the phone from her bag, a seductive smile on her face. It was clear the experience had opened a door Sooyoung hadn’t really anticipated. Now his wife seemed to be warming up to the idea of being intimate with another person, even if it was pure sex.
“So, before we watch this, we need to talk about the rules,” Sooyoung declared.
“Oh, come on!” He pouted.
“No, listen. I want the rules. The rules were: you need to be able to watch, you need to be able to say no, no intercourse, and once a week. We’ve broken all of them more or less. I told Minho before He left that we needed to abide by the rules from now on, that this evening was an exception. He can’t just fuck me whenever he wants... and vice versa I guess,” Sooyoung said.
“Abide by the rules from now on? Including ‘no intercourse’?” He asked. Sooyoung blushed at that.
“Well... I kinda thought you didn’t mind if we left that rule out from now on,” she said, somewhat shyly.
Sooyoung made a very strong point. Not one he had expected from her, either. Not just the sex rule, but generally. It was necessary to have some control over these things. Minho’s effect on her had become quite apparent. It was sex without consequences, and great sex at that. As a guy, he could relate. But her suggesting to snip that rule seemed so... it was just much more impactful.
“I think you have a point,” He agreed. “It was something that was out of our control, but now that the heat of the moment is over, it makes sense.”
Sooyoung smiled her response, but Hyoseob had a question.
“Just now, you didn’t want to watch the video on the couch. And before, you let Minho do you from behind, something you never let me. Is this a theme I’m sensing? Does Minho get to do stuff that I don’t? Like...” He trailed off, and his eyes shifted, staring intensely into hers.
“Well, yeah...” Sooyoung replied. “Isn’t that what you wanted though?”
Hyoseob gulped, realizing she was right. It was part of it, for him to give her experiences, he never could. He hadn’t thought that would mean ‘experiences he never would’, though perhaps not with such emphasis on ‘never’.
Sooyoung having experiences with others that should have been reserved for her husband, and then denying him the same liberties, was the ultimate tease. Sooyoung’s exploration of her sexuality with men other than him was an incredible thrill.
“I mean, yeah.” He relented and admitted.
“Good,” she purred. “Wanna watch me get fucked from behind?”
Sooyoung wasn’t shy of cursing, but hearing her put it so bluntly, combined with his knowledge that she was going to willingly cheat and break their wedding vows for some kid, sent a sharp heat straight to his balls. He’d never seen his wife like this, and she was irresistible.
“I want everything.” Hyoseob declared.
She giggled at that. She looked amazing. She was absolutely radiant; sexy, confident, and free. Sooyoung looked at him tenderly and lovingly, a sweet, promising look that only served to stir the building excitement and burning arousal.
There were three videos in total. One shorter, and two longer.
“We’ll probably have to save the last one for a rainy day,” she teased sensually in his ear, her hand trailing down onto his slack-covered bulge.
The first one showed Minho’s point of view of Sooyoung on her back, topless and with his massive cock between her breasts. She rubbed them up and down, looking up with desire and lust as his veiny appendage emerged and disappeared between her magnificent bosom. Hyoseob loins flared up as He was able to appreciate the sexual play at such close range and with Sooyoung’s large, firm orbs being groped and abused so well. Minho really knew how to push a woman’s buttons, he thought. It didn’t take long before his semen erupted from its tip, splattering over his wife’s chin, cheeks, and nose...
“He’s so virile... he gets hard again so fast... perks of being a young stud, I guess,” Sooyoung muttered. Hyoseob quickly shoved his pants down so she could get better access to his raging erection.
She was right when she said they’d probably save the last one, because He doubted he’d last all the way through the second video. The one Sooyoung hinted that she got fucked from behind. A view he never had.
Sooyoung clicked the video and resumed stroking him.
The angle on the video showed Sooyoung naked silhouette cascaded by the dimly lit room. Sooyoung, hands against the wall, presenting her fat ass.
“Ohh that looks like an ass that’s had some workouts,” Minho said from behind the phone’s lens.
“Less chatting and more pounding,” Sooyoung’s voice called from the dark.
Minho placed the phone on what Hyoseob guess was a dresser, facing the camera towards the back of his bent-over wife, her perfect figure illuminated perfectly by the nearby light, a tantalizing silhouette that invited and begged to be pounded. Minho’s hulking frame stepped close and shoved himself roughly into her waiting slit.
“Oh... oh-oh!” Sooyoung moaned, her hands suddenly clenching and gripping tighter against the wall, her hips twitching. “Harder. Fuck!” she begged.
Hyoseob turned his eyes from the video screen towards the same body parts, seeing the same hips on the couch next to him that Minho was grasping on the video as he fucked his lovely wife. Sooyoung noticed, her smile deepening. The sound of bodies slapping echoed from the device. Minho growled, grasping her tighter and pulling her to him as his hips rocked and pummeled his wife’s magnificent ass. Sooyoung’s large ass was quivering with the impacts and bounced, the flesh wobbling back and forth hypnotically. Minho fucked her mercilessly, relentlessly, hammering her from behind, but with deliberate purpose. Sooyoung started making a high-pitched sound. He had never seen her so receptive.
“Jesus, you really like that, huh?” Hyoseob breathed. Minho was fucking his wife so roughly.
Sooyoung merely nodded, as if embarrassed, turning her face to hide in the seat cushions. Minho grabbed and pulled her arms, pushing her back against him with a forceful thrust, burying his entire length deep inside her. Sooyoung’s walls trembled around him, squeezing his giant girth, wanting more. Minho eased most of his shaft out before plowing slowly, churning her insides with his cock, giving her a moment of relief. But it was temporary and she shuddered once again, clamping down and throbbing around the huge length.
“Unnnggh- Unnnng- Unnng,” she let out with each long, hard thrust.
Hyoseob’s eyes bulged as he watched his wife cum on another man’s cock, knowing she was experiencing something He could never give her to that extent.
“God! Harder! HARDER!” Sooyoung cried, and just like that Hyoseob came to the sounds of Minho fucking his wife better than He ever could.
“Christ!” the present Sooyoung said, sounding somewhat disgusted as his cum trickled over her hand. “You could’ve said something! I’d gotten a towel!”
Sooyoung rose up and headed off to the nearest bedroom to clean her hand.
Sooyoung couldn’t really concentrate the following day. A few times, she caught herself staring off into space, thinking of how nice Minho’s long, thick cock felt when he was on top of her, pummeling her body. But she had to go the entire weekend, and then some, before she could have it again. In her mind, that was simply too long a time to wait to get off like she did last night.
But it wasn’t just sex that had her brain distracted. The conversation with Hyoseob had gotten Sooyoung thinking of all sorts of dirty, taboo ideas. Hyoseob had admitted he liked it when she did things with Minho, such as exploring new things. Giving up some of her firsts for Minho, even. Like doggy, or a fucking her tits. She wasn’t sure what that entailed, or what she could do with that information, but she stored it away in her mind.
Sooyoung spent the rest of the weekend running track, lifting weights, and other physical activities to force her life back into normalcy, in addition to her school work. She decided she didn’t want sex to dictate her life, so while she looked forward to tutoring Minho on Tuesday, she dedicated her time to her life’s chores and commitments.
‘What are we doing for the tutoring?’ I texted her when she arrived at school on Monday. ‘Can we meet between classes? I need some help to get my balls drained before class so I can focus ;)’
‘Stop it, Minho,’ was all she replied, feeling a tingle of warmth and arousal ran down her spine nonetheless.
‘I was just kidding’ I replied.
I had responded with some teasing ‘Are you going to be wet on Tuesday’ and ‘Can’t stop thinking about it’ but eventually didn’t push it any further. She would assume I was probably too afraid to scare her off for the upcoming sessions, regardless of how horny I was. But throughout the day, Sooyoung felt increasingly needy herself, unable to resist fantasizing about our upcoming session.
It was hard for her to understand how her student having such a big dick had her so riled up... though some of my otherworldly skill probably had something to do with it. In addition to my prowess, I had been respectful. She supposed not every boy would have behaved so well and been so understanding, even if I relentlessly teased her for doing far more than the rules allowed.
Though my skill in the bedroom, the only reason Sooyoung would ever return to me was the thrill and pleasure it gave her husband. Hyoseob loved the humiliation of someone like me enjoying his wife, and her doing things with me that she would rarely, if ever, do with her husband.
Like allowing my cock between her tits. Or how I made her orgasm like a slutty nympho just by fucking her in a position she wouldn’t normally allow. All of this, combined with the non-committal, almost primal pleasure, made the whole experience tantalizing. It certainly was a lifestyle Sooyoung could learn to enjoy, if she didn’t already.
“Wait up, Ma’am,” I called to her after school as she was heading to her car. She crossed her arms, unintentionally revealing her generous cleavage.
“What is it?” Sooyoung asked, ignoring her sudden nervous excitement. She hoped I wouldn’t put her in such an awkward position out in the open.
I went to the same school where she worked, so we were bound to run into each other. However, it did not make it any less awkward. Even though no one was particularly close, there were still a lot of people around. I leaned against her car, and she leaned back against the same vehicle to play it casual. Just some teacher talking to some pupil. Nothing suspicious about two young adults standing next to her vehicle talking to one another, right?
“What did you want to talk about, Minho?” she repeated.
“So about tomorrow... just what should I expect? You know, for the tutoring,” I said, attempting to stall the conversation. I looked over her with a mischievous glint. Sooyoung’s heart raced, unsure whether she should regret this situation or revel in it.
“If you’re here early, maybe we can just fu-”
“Not today,” Sooyoung said with an all too friendly smirk as she casually pushed herself off the car, trying to end the conversation. “And no more about doing stuff between classes.”
I scoffed and began rubbing my bulge. She frowned, and as my smirk lingered, her gaze was drawn downward.
“H-hey!” she stammered, taking a step away. “That’s hardly appropriate. Especially with students walking by,” she hissed. Sooyoung wanted nothing more than to reach over and grab my cock, squeeze that long, veiny piece of flesh she loved so much.
“Well, when else should I talk to you about it?” I chuckled, taking the same step she had, closing the gap between us.
“You could’ve just texted like you usually do... but fine, hop in and I’ll drive you home. We can talk about it on the way,” She relented, trying to shut me up before anyone noticed and hoping to keep the conversation focused on the actual tutoring. “Now knock it off,” she finished.
I smiled proudly as I entered the passenger side. Sooyoung rolled her eyes and suppressed a groan before getting into the car with me, pushing thoughts away and putting the vehicle in gear.
We talked about the tutoring and homework and stayed relatively cordial the rest of the ride, with only a few irrelevant comments from my part because I couldn’t help but admire her tits and ass.
“So, do you ever teach in class? Like theory or whatever?” I asked.
“Pff, just how much do you skip, Minho?” Sooyoung laughed. “Yeah, sometimes. Usually, around football season so any day now. I even have my own classroom.”
“You gonna tutor me on that stuff eventually?” I asked.
“If you think you have use for it,” She replied. “I have booked the classroom a few times this semester for your actual tutorage, in fact.”
“Oh I’d love to have you in a classroom,” I teased. She looked over, amused, and wondered what I would do with such an opportunity.
“Would you want a private lesson, Mister? Detention maybe?” Sooyoung teased back.
“Oh please, Mrs. Sooyoung, I didn’t mean to pass my paper, could you give me an oral exam? To see if I deserve extra credit?” I grinned.
Sooyoung laughed pulling up at her house. “Then I think you’re in luck,” she said, turning the car into her driveway and switching the engine off. “Jokes aside, we can’t fool around at the school... not more than we already did anyway,” she said, not able to conceal a smirk at the memory.
“You mean to tell me you and Hyoseob never done anything naughty at school?” I replied.
“None of your business, and don’t you try any funny ideas there either.” Sooyoung glared at me. I raised my hands defensively, “Alright, alright.”
As I walked her to her door, my eyes lingered down to her breasts and ass. Sooyoung opened the door and turned to me. “See you tomorrow, then?” she asked.
I smirked as my gaze traced her body. From her big cleavage strutting out in front of her, to her waist and down to her wide childbearing hips, my eyes feasted on her, while she tried her best to ignore the reaction her body had.
“Damn, Sooyoung,” I sighed. She blushed and smiled up at me. “Your ass was so hot, stretching and jiggling as you got out of the car. Wish I had recorded that instead.”
“Glad you were entertained,” Sooyoung retorted.
We stood there in the doorway for a few moments, staring at one another. Sooyoung was waiting for me to leave, and I was ogling her body and thinking God knows what. Sooyoung looked stunning, especially given that her work attire frequently consisted of tight-fitting workout clothes. Tight shirts, shorts, or yoga pants, with a sweater tied around her waist. A bit lewd, maybe, but she wore it flawlessly. Sporty and sexy all in one package.
“You leaving?” Sooyoung inquired, ignoring my leering.
“When is Hyoseob coming home?” I asked.
“In about two hours, why? We’re not-” Sooyoung tried to say something, but I interrupted her by pushing her inside and closing the door behind her. Sooyoung stumbled backward, her mind reeling from the forwardness.
“We are not doing this,” Sooyoung said, though with much less vigour as my hands gripped her fat ass, making her gulp hard. My tongue trailed from her earlobe up to her ear. “Minho, please,” Sooyoung pleaded.
My hands ran down from her wide hips, fingers pressing against the hem of her tights. Sooyoung shuddered in an oh-so-delicious anticipation as she realized how badly she’d longed for my touch these past days. Sooyoung realized she had subconsciously chosen to wear an outfit just for me. To tempt and agitate me. She wanted my warm embrace and confident assertiveness. She wanted my greedy lust to break her body and willpower, only to be soothed by my caring patience, stamina, and thickness.
“Bedroom?” I asked, eager to sink my cock in this lovely, formerly faithful wife.
“Yeah...” Sooyoung answered breathlessly, her pussy wet and her cheeks flushed red as she was powerless to resist me, so powerfully she wished I’d bend her over, rip off her tight-fitting garments and-
“Sooyoung? Are you back?” Hyoseob’s voice cut in through the silence, right at that moment.
“Hyoseob! Why’re you home so early? I thought you were staying at the office all day for your important deadline!” Sooyoung answered nervously, fidgeting with the front door for me to get out, looking as Hyoseob came out from the kitchen.
“Eh, they cancelled the deadline; was a miscommunication with the client, and a chance for me to… Sooyoung, what is going on?” He didn’t sound angry, but he had every right to be. Sooyoung was in the process of breaking the rules again, and probably several of them. She had no mind to record it, as it was full steam ahead.
“Well, what do we have here,” Hyoseob scolded playfully. He approached, inspecting her up-and-down as he circled Sooyoung and I, now somewhat frozen from the sudden shock.
“You’re a sight to see, baby,” he murmured and stood before us. “But not what I expected to come crashing through the door,” Hyoseob continued, “but I understand the appeal.”
He smiled as his wife’s mouth bobbed up and down with no words emerging. Her words were caught in her throat before she eventually found her voice.
“Don’t be upset babe, we were talking... then... I mean,” Sooyoung stuttered.
“Relax, I’m not angry,” Hyoseob assured. “Why should I be? Look, it is pretty hot to see you almost fall over, all stunned and panting at Minho.”
A nervous, giddy chuckle erupted from Sooyoung. She licked her lips and blinked slowly.
“Sorry to barge in like this,” I stated, my grip on Sooyoung’s waist still. “Just thought...”
“You’d fuck my wife?” Hyoseob replied.
“Listen, I’ll just leave,” I said.
“Leave?” Hyoseob asked in mock surprise, smiling coyly. “Are you fucking kidding me? You’ve started it. You can’t stop now.”
“Okay?” I breathed.
“Hey, this is my chance to watch it live. Consider it another hall pass,” Hyoseob said.
Sooyoung didn’t think they’d do any more hall passes, especially so soon after her last one, but she wasn’t going to argue, instead turning around and pressing her round butt against my bulge. I smirked, pressing back, reaching up to the rim of her short shirt, tracing the fabric, and skimming my fingers against the hem of her spandex tights, which I began rolling down her hips.
“Wait,” Sooyoung said. “Didn’t you say something about a bedroom?” she added, meeting Hyoseob’s stare. His eyes widened. ‘That’s right, I’m taking him to our marital bed,’ Sooyoung thought as she looked at her husband. If he was so accepting, let’s see how far he’d let her take it.
She grabbed my hand and pulled me upstairs. She was powerless to stop herself now that she had free reign and was absolutely in heat; she needed to be fuck senseless like the horny slut she’d become, right in her and her husband’s marital bed, with her husband watching no less. Sooyoung entered the bedroom and stood by the footboard, pulling me in behind.
“Lay on your back,” I told her. “I wanna see those huge tits jiggle as I stretch out your pussy,” I added.
Sooyoung didn’t respond, but obeyed nonetheless, feeling even hotter from hearing the lewd order. She laid down, ready and wanting. She heard the sound of their breathing, mixed with Hyoseob’s, who silently sat watching on a chair off to the side.
I began stripping off, her gaze fixed on my body. It seemed like an eternity since we’d had each other. She had to admit her disappointment at having her fun cut short. But hopefully, we’d have a lot more time and wouldn’t have to rush or wait for Hyoseob’s arrival.
I moved closer to her, climbing onto the bed until my cock was above her face. A shiver went through her. Sooyoung laid down, extending a hand to wrap around my hovering girth. I chuckled as her soft grip met mine, her fingertips barely touching on both sides. My foreskin was tight and firm over the bulging cockhead, with a wispy cum beading on the slit. She raised her head, extending her neck, and touched my tip with her tongue, her eyes closed and breathing heavily. The wet tongue licked the bead, and she salivated at the unpleasant taste. She was in disbelief about her own actions, doing something so dirty with someone other than her husband. The shame fueled her even more, but she couldn’t push herself any further than this. She lowered her head back on the pillow, allowing the thick piece to hang in front of her, dragging along her chin and grazing over her tits, drooling even more heavily as it made its way, coating the firm boobs and pebbled nipples.
Sooyoung looked up to see me looking down at her, a smirk flashing across my coarse features. Sooyoung understood what I was looking for, what I desired. Despite her embarrassment, Sooyoung was hungry for my dick after tasting the copious amounts of delicious delight I could provide her with. However, as I climbed down her body, I did not align my cock with her. No, I wanted to show Hyoseob how much better I was without even using my cock, so I sunk down the married couple’s marital bed and buried my head between her flawless thighs.
“Oh god,” Sooyoung mumbled in pent-up anticipation for the oncoming onslaught.
*
Hyoseob sat in a chair in the corner of his own bedroom, watching me sink my head between his wife’s spread legs, obscuring his view of her dripping entrance. It was a hard feat to understand how well Sooyoung responded to my touches. It wrecked him as much as it aroused him, and witnessing the events before him was the worst kind of train carnage he couldn’t pull his eyes from.
“Oh- Ohhh,” Hyoseob heard his wife moan, a deep, almost painful groan escaping from her chest. His dick stirred when he saw her lost in pleasure. Her knees were drawn in the air, and her heels were sliding down my wide back, pushing her pelvis forward and mashing her opening against my tongue. His sexy prideful wife was being ravaged by one of her students. Right in front of him.
Sooyoung began panting as her hands took hold of my head, entangling her fingers in my hair and ensuring my face remained rooted in place as I tongue fucked her sopping, hungry pussy. my hands gripped this wife’s athletic thighs as she ground against mine, the bed creaking and rocking in the process. Sooyoung reached back with one arm, holding onto the headboard, while her other kept my head pressed in tightly, her jaw jutted out and her eyes focused.
I worked her like a pro. With each twitch and whimper, labored groan, and gasping squeak, I reacted accordingly, guiding her into a boiling heat that was gradually building in her core, until my skilled tongue finally broke her open, sending her shuddering into an explosive orgasm that drenched my tongue in her juices.
I knew right away that Sooyoung and her husband had never done or come close to accomplishing anything like this before. Nothing in our long sexual history compared.
“Fuck! How...” Sooyoung groaned as her convulsions subsided. She drew her arm back and lay there exhausted, my lips smirking against her sticky thighs.
My cock hadn’t gotten the pleasure it craved, and the impatience was evident in the rigid shaft. I was tall and proud on my knees above her. Sooyoung turned her head, realizing that my cock had not only missed her, but also been neglected. My thick piece had bobbed and bounced, waving and whipping in the air, and landing all over their sheets. I chuckled as the disheveled teacher regained her composure.
“Fuck, Minho, how’d you get so good at that?” She sighed as her fingers and gaze moved down my body. “It’s crazy how fast you can get me off, it’s unfair.”
“Had plenty of practice,” I told her.
“Yeah? With who?”
“Minju, Hana, Sujin, Eunha, so on,” Minho bragged.
“Eunha? Our neighbor?” Sooyoung asked.
It wasn’t typical of her to be so nosy, but Hyoseob could tell, my already extensive experience interested her. Meanwhile, He sat, enraged and jealous. Not only did I get to fuck his wife, but I also had free access to every teen girl in the neighborhood.
“This dirty cock has been in a lot of dirty places, then,” Sooyoung purred while stroking my cock between her legs, enticed by my obscenities. Hyoseob was taken aback by how hot she was, not just because I was in front of her, but also because she was so responsive to it. This was a very different Sooyoung, one who clearly enjoyed the experience and knowledge one had to offer, he thought.
“Turn over,” I instructed, “Get on your hands and knees for me.”
“God, yes,” Sooyoung hissed.
And just like that she was on all fours, knees far apart, her tight entrance exposed, wet, and more than ready. That big sexy ass I could fondle and worship for hours strutted out for mine to feast. I noticed her shaking from anticipation, the pleasurable experience in her pussy still burning and spreading like wildfire, warming her entire body from the inside out.
“Yesss...” she groaned as my cock head settled down against her outer lips, coating the bottom in her leaking juices. It was a hell of a tease.
“Unnh! Minho, come on. Just... FUCK ME!” Sooyoung begged.
“What’s that? What is it that you want?” I teased.
“Please.” Sooyoung inhaled sharply. “I want you!”
“If I fuck you, and I’m not your husband, what does that make him?” I teased, nodding in Hyoseob’s direction.
“A cuck-UGH!” Sooyoung groaned out as I started to push my cock inside her unfaithful hole, taking control.
I fully leaned over her and crawled my hands around and under her, getting ahold of her full tits, cock lodged deep within her as I mounted her. “That’s what I thought,” I muttered, before starting my slow pace.
Hyoseob’s dick throbbed wildly. What could He say about such a display? It was unlike anything he could have imagined or experienced. His own wife was having the time of her life right in front of him, and with someone else, not to mention, her student. He’d never seen her so hot.
“Minho! You’re so BIG. Fuck me!” she moaned, in complete surrender and acceptance of a situation.
“Damn, you are tight... i can’t believe how fucking tight you are!” I pounded her harder. The bed creaked rhythmically in tune with my hips snapping against her big ass.
The bedroom echoed with the sounds of flesh slapping against flesh, and the wife’s moan rang in his ears. Hyoseob could hear our breathing become heavier as I brought her to climax again. Sooyoung’s breath caught in her throat for a moment before she cried out in delight as I fucked her straight through her orgasm without mercy.
“Like that, Hyoseob?” I taunted him over the moans and whimpers that his lovely wife couldn’t restrain. “Like watching me make your wife cum?!” I asked.
It wasn’t the first time Hyoseob saw Sooyoung do sex acts he’d always fantasized about, but seeing live in front of him was both magnificent and terrifying, given that he couldn’t ever be the one to do those things with her. Or perhaps the only difference between my cock and him was that I knew how to please her far better than her husband could.
“Like to see me breaking your wife? Defiling your wife in your-fucking-bed?” I groaned, thrusting firm and hard. “I’ll never grow tired of a pussy like this! Never! What a fucking MILF!”
Sooyoung was so into it, fully submerging in the wild ride I was giving her. I wasn’t holding back, giving her the kind of rough treatment that no one else could give. That only I could. That her husband certainly couldn’t. Her insides wrapped around mine like a fist as I pummeled her from behind.
I gave Sooyoung long, deliberate, penetrating, slow, torturous thrusts before pounding her hard and deep, letting my cock bury its enormous mass inside. Her huge breasts, undulating back and forth on the surface, would slide a little, causing her hard nipples to briefly rub the fabric.
“He’s fucking me so hard, Hyoseob,” Sooyoung whimpered. “This is all your fault!”
“Holy shit,” He muttered.
“I’d never fuck this shithead if you hadn’t pushed for this!” Sooyoung cried.
“Oh god,” Hyoseob groaned, feeling his impending orgasm rise and then subside as he forced himself to stop jerking.
“Unnh-NNH! MINHO!”
“Tell him how deep my cock is going inside this sweet married pussy. How it stretches you,” I teased.
“Minho, uggh- your cuh-cuh-cocks SO DEEP! Fuck me harder... faster. My pussy is a-and, I need you t-to fuuuck-AAAA.” Sooyoung was incoherent as she exploded. Her body collapsed underneath me as her arms and elbows gave out from my force.
I’m panting profusely and abruptly pulling out of Sooyoung. “Get in there,” I instructed, getting out of bed.
Sooyoung rolled onto her back, allowing Hyoseob to climb between her thighs and eagerly plunge himself between us. The contrast was noticeable. He struggled to fill her with his own member, just as I did. She wrapped her arms around him, keeping him close as we rutted together.
“Feels really nice,” Sooyoung assured him earnestly, panting into his ear, but his depraved brain refused to believe her, unable to shake the fact that she had just been fucked hard, pounded deep, and railed thoroughly by someone much bigger.
“Shit... you’re so much looser,” Hyoseob said bluntly. Sooyoung closed her eyes, enjoying his body and ignoring what he had just said. She let out a series of pants and groans, but was lacking. I had really stretched her. He just hoped it didn’t mean that his relationship with his wife had changed.
“Oh god, keep doing it!” Sooyoung gasped and groaned beneath her husband, writhing her body as the waves of pleasure crashed into her. She writhed and contorted in front of him, receiving his shallow thrusts with relative ease.
But her orgasm never came. She panted and bucked against him, but the friction just wasn’t there enough to bring her over the edge. Hyoseob didn’t think Sooyoung realized it, but He wasn’t enough anymore. Not anymore. Not after being taken so far, stretched out, and then slammed, with so much weight and girth. It made a huge difference. She clenched hard around him but didn’t get it where she wanted. She needed something more than him.
The realization burned through him and almost made him cum right away, but instead, Hyoseob felt a tap on his shoulder.
“I’m going back in,” I smirked. “I’ll take care of it.”
I pushed him away and crawled back between Sooyoung’s thighs, forcing him to sit back and jerk off while he watched his wife being fucked by another guy. I don’t think Sooyoung noticed his withdrawal, especially since I reinserted my cock inside her. Sooyoung threw her head back and let out a howl. I picked up right away, maintaining the exact same pace of deep, hard strokes inside of her.
Hyoseob felt hurt being forced to climb back to the chair in the corner, hearing how much Sooyoung enjoys someone else more than him, but at the same time, he felt an intense arousal of humiliation to witness this sight. The way I’m dominantly forcing myself inside her lovely wife, pinning her in place and rekindling her pleasure. She cried for more.
“Take my cock! Take it like a slut!” I kept going.
“Uhnnnh... feels soooo gooood,” Sooyoung panted, clawing and pulling.
I paused just long enough to grab Sooyoung’s wrists and pin them above her head, taking on a male dominant position of ownership. As a bull over his cow, or in this case, a stud mounting his breeding mare. Hyoseob thought back to their lives together, him and Sooyoung. Everything they had experienced together, it all leading to her get fucked by another man.
She arched her back and pressed her breasts against my chest, squirming under me as the heat built up again, more and more, until, with the clench and tingle of pleasure in the stomach and thighs, Sooyoung lost herself in an orgasm, feeling an enormous pressure rising, climbing up from the depths of her pussy, pushing upwards, stretching. Sooyoung squirmed beneath my dominance, gasping, unable to grasp reality as every cell in her body became electrified in response to my hard pummeling.
I then slowed down, letting Sooyoung come down, sinking my lips against hers, and we began to kiss intimately.
“Minho...” She whispered in a raspy voice, gazing into mine.
Sooyoung could hardly speak. She tried, but the words fell short and were barely audible, a quiet and excited stuttering, but as the fog lifted and reality returned, and she started to remember the moment, her tone shifted. Her voice grew stronger, more aware of her situation. “Fuck...” she continued in a less reverent whisper. “Jesus Christ, what is going on...”
“Well... we’re cucking your husband,” I said bluntly.
“Are you mad? Am I in trouble?”
Sooyoung let out a giggle and let me drop my head to her neck, causing her giggle to turn into a moan as I began licking her soft skin while humping her womb.
“Are you going to talk?” I breathed, my full cock sinking slowly into her. “Come on. “Let him hear.”
“Oh my g-uuuh.” Sooyoung trailed off, the words cut off, distracted by massive tool filling her up, touching her walls.
“Now tell me again. Tell him, the reason you have allowed me to defile you,” I teased, not relenting my pace, while whispering in her ear.
“Ohhh,” Sooyoung moaned, shivering, clutching my muscles. Sooyoung whimpered, gritting her teeth to her effort. But not responding was beyond impossible. She had never felt so full.
“Your husbands’ too tiny, isn’t he?” I egged her on.
“My husband is great, I swear, but you’re so big and he’s not,” Sooyoung got out, my fat cock-head poking into her, brushing into a particularly sensitive spot in the inner wall.
“That’s right,” I said with satisfied smirk.
“Ohh!” Sooyoung groaned.
“That’s why you needed to cuck your husband.”
“God Minho...” Sooyoung moaned.
“Just answer.”
“Yes,” Sooyoung blurted out. “My husband is great, I promise- oh my! But he couldn’t fulfill all my needs, my cravings.” Sooyoung paused and closed her eyes. I slowed down because I didn’t want her orgasm to take her away just yet. “That’s why, fuck, I needed you here. So you could give me what I really needed.”
Sooyoung returned my gaze, a loving, heated expression on her face. I kissed her, pressing our lips and tongues together. And we resumed our fucking, moaning together and filling the bedroom with the sounds of flesh slapping, groans, and grunts.
Hyoseob raised his hand to stroke himself, rubbing his dick furiously. His body and mind were filled with emotions and stress. Sooyoung hadn’t been lying about his size, and watching how I held nothing back as my thick meat began stretching his wife again, plunging into her over and over... He had no idea how we were doing it; with our perfect fit, it must have felt like heaven. His eyes burned with a desire to break down. He is unsure whether he is feeling shame, happiness, anger, or passion. He closed his eyes for a second to concentrate on his wife’s agonizing moans and the obscene slick sounds of her being pounded so deliciously and thoroughly.
“Hyoseob, watch me make your wife cum again,” I said.
He could only nod and bite down his own moans, proving my statement correct. The display in front of him became more and more lewd and heated as she moved her mouth to my ears and allowed me to feel her warm breath, while our hips went insane, slamming into her like a high-powered machine.
“You want it,” I told her.
“Ah! Ah! Uuungh,” Sooyoung got out, a half groan, half whisper.
“Oh yes you do. Cum on my cock!” I commanded.
“Minho...” Sooyoung moaned in her raspy voice.
“Don’t bother to fight it, Ma’am.”
“Minho I’m so close, I’m going crazy here, just take my womb.”
I pummeled down deep, thrusting firmly and keeping my base flush. Sooyoung’s hips rose from the sheets and began bucking upward, meeting my heavy thrusts. Our speed increased together. “Minho!” she kept saying my name like a mantra. Sooyoung grunted as I pushed deeper inside of her. She had to scream as I kept my promise.
“Okay,” Sooyoung hissed after an eternity.
I smiled and slid off of her. Sooyoung leaned back into the mattress and spread her legs, arching her hips, watching as my cock come out covered in our collective fluids, thick, sticky, and white. It was hard to comprehend that all that had been inside her, and even more was still spilling out. It was so thick and creamy.
“I haven’t cum this hard since forever,” Sooyoung moaned.
“You did amazing. I can’t wait for a lot more,” I told Sooyoung.
“Yee-ees, me too, baby.” Sooyoung wrapped her arms and legs around me and kissed me eagerly as her eyes flashed towards her husband, a little unsure, maybe even scared, her glance uncertain, her pupils wide, and then she just looked straight at him.
“You okay, Hyoseob?” she asked.
He nodded. “Yeah, yeah... just hard to get over how much of that got in you,” Hyoseob said, laughing. While his expression was undoubtedly one of shock, he was actually doing more than fine. Watching his wife pleasured by another man is an image that will stay with him forever, and the experience left him oddly satisfied. It almost made him happy that she had gotten to experience something like this.
“Well, anyway,” I said, standing up. “I am drained. And we’re not in a real session, so I’m heading out.”
“Sure thing,” Sooyoung said. “And the session tomorrow? Let’s... Let’s put that one on hold for now, okay? We need a bit... a bit of control, I think.”
I nodded and began to dress up. It was reassuring when Sooyoung, the smart person she was, took the steering wheel. When the dust settled, she still considered her husband’s turmoil. Hyoseob was probably complacent enough for us to do more, but Sooyoung was probably right in pulling on the emergency brakes.
“So,” Sooyoung turned to Hyoseob after I left. “Wow, huh.”
He simply nodded, trying to process the event that had transpired. Sooyoung got up and moved in beside him.
“What just happened?” He asked, dumfounded.
“Well, we cucked you,” Sooyoung said, studying his expression as she waited for his reaction to her words. “Was it too much?”
“I... think so. I’m glad you got to experience it... but watching it in front of me was a bit much, perhaps.” He explained to her. “Like, yeah, you’re hot as hell. This entire event is extremely hot, and seeing another man fuck you so well is quite thrilling. But hearing you moan and say all of that... it was almost too much for me. I’m not sure if I can handle seeing it live... especially since he asked me to join in...”
Sooyoung nodded understanding. “So you think we should move on from this whole thing?”
“No! No, I love it. It makes it harder for me to return to the same things later,” he laughed. Sooyoung also giggled. “No, I’m all on for it still, but I think we need a cooling period,” he replied. “At the very least, I participated in real life... However, the videos are quite good.
“Sure thing,” Sooyoung said, with a warm, understanding smile. “And I won’t do anything until you’re ready for it to continue. If ever. I only enjoy this if you enjoy it.”
“You’d do that?” He asked. “Despite everything?”
“Of course... I know I failed before, but I would try with all my might. I don’t want to risk everything for something like that, and honestly, I don’t think Minho would either.”
They linger like that for a bit.
“Sooyoung, can I ask you something?” Hyoseob started. Sooyoung nodded. “Why is it so different? I mean, aside from the obvious physical things. You’re so much wilder with Minho.”
“Aside from how his bigger size just hits differently?” Sooyoung asked, shooting him a smirk, which He returned. “Well... I don’t know. Honestly, maybe it was always there, I just never brought it out. The raw physical aspect. And with Minho it is just that, so much more raw and physical action. I don’t love him, nowhere close, and I don’t think for a second he loves me. And for women sex and emotions are entwined and psychological. With Minho, there is no relationship like that, so it’s purely physical. It’s like I can let go more, if that makes sense. Have good sex with no repercussions, if that also makes sense.”
Hyoseob paused for a few seconds. “I guess that makes sense, yeah. When did you get so smart?” He joked.
“Shut up,” Sooyoung said, slapping his chest. “So everything okay? Anything more you wanna ask, because I want to answer everything you want to know as far as I can.”
“No, I think I’m good. Let’s put a breather on this whole thing then take it from there.”
“Okay, got it,” Sooyoung said with a smile, wrapping a hand around his husband, and cuddling into him as she laid her head on his chest. He placed an arm on her shoulder and held her close, her soft boobs pressing against him. The cuddle made them fall asleep, together, exhausted from the day’s adventure.
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getosbigballsack · 1 day
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Random thought! Baby Daddy Gojo x Complicated Baby Mama! Reader
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But just imagine fighting with your baby daddy Gojo. He wasn't yours to begin with a wild man on the run looking for some good pussy to fuck. He got a taste of you and knocked you up with his child on the first night. It wasn't intentional. He just forgot to put the condom on, promising to not ejaculate inside your hole. But he couldn't resist a good pussy.
So now here you are, the mother of his two year old child arguing back and forth with him all because you refused to spend the night over at his house.
It's no secret. Almost everyone knew, including your family, that you were still sleeping with your baby daddy. So if that's the case, then why not make the relationship official already? The answer is simple, Gojo is not ready for a committed relationship like that. But he begs to differ.
"Y/N, stop fighting with me. Come on, baby girl, you know you wanna ride this dick so stop playing with me and get back in bed," he whined as he watched as you fixed the ends of your sundress. "Come on baby, it's just after 10. Where are you gonna go at this time of the night?
"Can you shut up and go put some clothes on?"
He sighed heavily and rolled his eyes as he got out of bed, grabbed his robe that was close by, and put it on. "Seriously, Y/N, are you really just gonna leave after we had some amazing sex?"
You took a deep breath before turning to face him. "It wasn't supposed to happen, I only came here to drop off our son."
"And you somehow ended up in my bed, yeah, right."
You rolled your eyes, pushed past him, and made your way towards the door. You weren't in any mood to have this conversation. Yeah, he's right. You both just had amazing sex, something that you needed after the rough week you had, and you're in such a good mood right now. You'd be damned if you allowed Gojo to sully your mood.
But be damned all you want, Gojo had a few words he wanted to get off his chest before you walked out that door.
"Why do you always keep running away from me? Why do you treat me like this? For fuck sakes, we have a child together and you treat me as though I'm just a one night fucking stand."
"Gojo can we please not do this right now, I just wanna..."
"No! We are going to talk about this. Why do you keep running away from me?” He asked as he grabbed a hold of your hand, spun you around, and pressed you up against the door. “Huh? Don’t you wanna be with me Y/N? Is this the kind of relationship you want to display in front of our son?” 
You swallow, eyes looking up to meet his eyes  with a frown. “Of course not.”
“So what’s stopping us from being together? Huh? What excuse do you have this time?” he asked, as he rested his hand upon your hip, squeeze it a bit before pressing you even more into the door. “You still think I’m not ready to be in a committed relationship with you?” 
He knew that that was exactly why you won’t be with him. He was a good fuck, and of course an amazing dad to your son. He did what he needed to do for you (during your pregnancy) that is. And even after that he ensured that you, the mother of his child, wants for nothing. However it still doesn’t change the fact that he only just a good fuck, nothing more, nothing less. He’s incapable of being in a committed relationship, after all you knew about his reputation for being a slut, the playboy tattoo on his hip bone just reminded you everytime that he conquered more pussy than one could ever count. He’s just too untrustworthy for your taste. 
“If you already know the answer, then why ask?” 
“Because I think you’re just being very stubborn and judgemental at this point,”he whispered as he released your hips and pushed himself away from. “Leave if you want to, I’ll go jerk off in the bathroom once you leave.”
You frowned, “Seriously Gojo?” 
“And there you go using my last as if you didn’t just squirt and cum all over dick,” he said sarcastically as he sat on his bed, pointed at the door just waiting for you to leave. “I don’t want to waste your time and kill your good mood with idiotic rambling. I’ll drop our son off at your place next weekend, okay?” 
You let out a frustrated sigh and yanked the door. “I never once judged you Go…" Satoru.”
He scoffed, “Yeah right, give me a fucking break yeah. You do, you always do.” 
“I never…” 
“Fucking hell, you do Y/N. Always calling me a slut whenever you're around my friends or yours, making sly remarks and disgusted faces whenever you hear something as it regards what happened in my sex life. Don’t make me go there,” He half yelled, quickly remembering that the sleeping boy’s bedroom was closeby. “For fuck sakes, you’re always using the fact that I love having sex to judge who I am without even giving me a fucking chance. If I’m such a fucking slut and a disgusting whore, then why sleep with me, why do you keep coming back to ride my fucking dick off into next dawn? Why, Y/N?”
“Sa…”
“I’ve waited two years for you… I’ve tried showing you that yeah I may be a slut, but I’m more than ready to have family with you. How many times have I confessed to you? How many times have I told you that I love you, and what do you do? Discard my fucking feelings, say that I’m unworthy and you don’t trust me. And oh yeah my favourite, I’m too much of a slut. Yeah Y/N, Fucking ok, no problem, like I said, you can leave. I don’t want to waste your time and I need to go jerk my cock, since the woman that I love doesn't wanna be with me.” 
Too stunned to even come up with a proper response, you blurted out without thinking, “I’m pretty sure… You have other women on speed dial to come fuck you if you so badly wanted to have sex.” 
He turned around, looked you up and down, then laughed, “The other woman that is now in my block list and deleted contacts all because I wanted to have a family with you. Yeah, thanks for reminding me that being faithful to one woman sucks.”
You stood there in silence, not knowing what to say or what to do. You only just watched as he removed his robe from his shoulders and let it pool around his legs as he dug through the drawer on his nightstand. You watched as he pulled out a flesh light with a bottle of lube. “Do you mind?” He asked, not sparring you a glance as he got comfortable on his bed. He picked up his phone along with his earpods, clogged his ears, and then went about to do what he should have been all these years instead chasing after your judgemental ass. 
You didn’t bother watching, you just walked out the moment he squirted lube all over his cock before grabbing the flesh light. But as soon as you made it down the stairs, and tried leaving through the front door, a voice stopped you, knowing how desperately you wanted to go back and let him fuck you. 
But can you really do that, after all that was said only a few moments ago, and Gojo practically turned out his door after he confessed his love to you. Can you really go back? There is only one way to find out. 
You rushed up the flight of stairs and into the room, gently closing the door before turning to see Gojo with the flesh light around his cock, pumping away as he stared dead at you with his phone turned to your view for you to see a video he made of you a few months, masturbating and rubbing clit all so prettily for him. 
“What? Came back to watch the slut jerk off to a video of his baby mama?” He teased, whimpering too as he did so. 
“No,” you answered quickly. 
“Then what? I'm busy as you can see… I'm pretty sure you know how to let yourself out… ugh! I kinda… fuck. I kinda don't want to see you right now… so go.” 
But you didn't. You only stood there watching as your body went into heat. Pussy started leaking, legs trembling. You wanted to fuck, but also you wanted to take his words into consideration and maybe give the relationship a shot, but right now you wanted his dick. 
“Y/N… can you please just…”
“Satoru.. fuck me please!” His phone fell from his hand, but he never stopped pumping that flesh light. “I know I'm being selfish right, and I know what that seems like, but please… I'm willing to hear whatever it is that you have to say, after we have sex.” 
“But what if I don't want to have sex with you?” He asked, still pumping his hands up and down and around his cock. 
You pouted, but still you quickly turned around and rested your chest against the door, lifted up the ends of your dress, and shifted your panties to the side. It was a bit silent for a moment, except for Satoru whimpering and moaning, fleshing gripping and fapping away at his wet meaty cock. You knew stood there for more than a minute with your wet drip pussy and ass just patiently waiting for him to fuck. 
And oh boy did your patience pay off when he finally got out of bed, after coming in his flesh light that is, with his cock still standing, his hand down ripping your dress from your body. “And I'm the slut?” He whispered before slapping your ass. 
He spun you around, pushed you up against the door once more, held on to your hips as he dived in for a kiss. Though he was bit pissed off at you, he could never resist the sight of your pretty pussy just patiently waiting to get fucked out by him. 
He wasted no time, kissing and marking you as his own, loving the sounds of you softly moaning throughout the kiss as his hands slowly worked to get rid of your panties. There was a need for any sort of prep on his end. His cock already did an excellent job, stretching you out earlier. 
He successfully ripped off your undies, and you quickly lifted on leg and rested it just a little but above his waist, arching your back just waiting and ready for him to slide in. 
He never hesitated, and with practise movements, he was able to slip his cock into you hole, slamming deeply into your g-spot, kissing and drinking up all your moans from the sudden impact. 
“Fuck and I'm the slut… I wonder what they would say about you baby momma,” he whispered, as he began, pounding mercilessly into your hole, his balls slapping up against your ass with each thrust. 
“Ugh! Ugh! FUCK fu… Toru… ngh ha! Ha!” You cried incoherently, hands quickly wrapping around his neck, your lips still pressed against his. He quickly held onto the leg that was already on his waist before tapping the other leg signalling that you need to raise it up for just and bit and you did. 
“Who's the slut now? Begging her baby daddy to fuck her hmmm? He teased you. 
“Fuck… fuck you!” You managed to blurt out, feeling the force, girth and swelling of his cock penetrated you, the moment he lifted both your legs and slammed you down on his cock.
“That's exactly what I'm going to do. FUCK THE HELL OUT OF YOU TONIGHT! But keep it down, our son is sleeping, yeah.” 
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joostsblog · 21 hours
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joost klein x fem!reader who has a thing for his hands? loving when his hands wander all around her body.. fingering her during a pre-party then dragging her to hus room to finish the poor girl off both of them competing in eurovision
maybe joost even whispering things in her ear.. lots of neck kisses and reader wakes up in the morning neck, thighs, collarbones basically her whole body having hickeys ☺️
tysm if u do this
here you go :)
the one about his hands and also waking up covered in hickeys ~ joost klein smut
My masterlist here ✨💌
Pairing: Joost Klein x fem!eurovision contestant!reader
Description: Only fantasising about Joost's hands just isn't enough. You need to get the fellow eurovision contestant to actually touch you where you need to be touched.
Word Count: 3.1k
A/N: in this version of eurovision no drama is happening, no dq etc, everything is just nice ❣️ i'm leaving for vacation tomorrow (to the netherlands actually lmao) so i probably won't be able to write anything for two week, i'm sorry babes :( filling up my inbox with requests, thoughts, feedback etc is still encouraged tho 💌
Warnings: 18+ ONLY, SMUT, nsfw, fingering (f receiving), protected sex, piv, swearing, consumption of cigarettes, not proofread
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His hands were the first thing you noticed about the man. The way he held out his hand in front of you, greeting you with a handshake (which you thought was a bit odd). His hand felt firm yet gentle in yours and you couldn't help but admire the digits tattooed on his fingers.
"Nice to meet you," he had smiled at you and your heart had fluttered just a bit.
Your quick infatuation with Joost and his hands really was poorly timed. You were at eurovision to represent your country and you were supposed to be on your best behaviour. Absolutely no distractions allowed. Too bad thoughts of the blonde dutch man doing ungodly things to you kept intruding into your mind.
So you really shouldn't be spending as much time with him as you did. Always finding an excuse to talk to him in between rehearsals or at breakfast (your favourite because it meant you saw Joost's messy hair in the morning and maybe sometimes you imagined your hands were the ones responsible for that). Your vocal coach would be furious with you if she found out that you had been starting to sneak off with Joost whenever he went for a smoke. Just talking and laughing with him as you watched him smoke. Always paying close attention to those hands when he lifted one of them to his mouth to take a drag in between sentences.
"I think I might be a bad influence on you," he said. "You need to take care of your pretty voice," he mused with a smirk and you swear you caught him eyeing you up and down.
"Don't worry about me, I'm already corrupted," you joked.
"Really, how so?" Joost asked with a grin.
You watched as Joost took another drag, his cigarette delicately placed between his fingers. Oh, what those hands could be capable of doing to you. You couldn't help but let your thoughts wander off again. You wondered how his hands would feel on your hips if you were sat on his lap, his hands guiding you to grind against him. How his hands would feel in your hair, pulling on it while his mouth would kiss along your neck. How his hands would on your throat while he would thrust into you. How his fingers would feel slowly pumping inside of you, hitting all the right spots.
Joost raised an eyebrow when he noticed your absent state.
"You will have to find out," you said smirking.
"Mysterious, I like it," Joost said and finished off his cigarette. "After you," he said after he opened the door. You walked past Joost and your hands lightly brushed against Joost's. Shivers on down your spine.
You decided that maybe the only solution to your problem was to actually get into Joost's pants. Because then all your thoughts and fantasies about the man wouldn't have to plague your mind anymore when they would become reality. So you decided you would do anything in your power to achieve your goal.
~
You were sitting across Joost in a waiting area. He was handsomely dressed in that black jacket with the dark europe tie and his glasses with the thick brims. His fingers were nervously playing with the cord of his headphones. He looked ravishing. You crossed your legs which caused your thighs to be on full display with the short skirt you were wearing. You hoped Joost would notice and maybe also think about how his hands would feel so good on your thighs (and other places also).
"Excited for tonight?" you asked Joost.
"Huh?" he asked confused.
"The semifinals preparty," you reminded him.
"Oh, yeah," he nodded as he remembered. "Are you gonna be there?" he asked.
"Only if you're there," you said and Joost smiled.
"Then I'll be there, anything for you," he said.
"Anything?" you asked cheekily. Joost narrowed his eyes at you and gave you a grin.
"You will have to find out."
~
Joost's eyes immediately landed on you as you saw him enter the party. You were swaying your hips to the beat, hands up in the air as you enjoyed yourself on the dancefloor. You grinned at Joost and he didn't need to be told twice as he made his way over to you. You wrapped your arms around Joost's neck to hug him hello, still swaying to the music. Instead of hugging you, Joost put his hands on your hips and smiled at you as he probably assumed you wanted to dance with him. You didn't complain. The thin fabric of your skirt didn't serve much as a barrier between your skin and Joost's grip and still you wished the skirt was gone. Your fingertips cautiously dipped into the hair at the nape of Joost's neck and Joost responded by pulling you closer to him. It still wasn't close enough. Joost leaned down to whisper into your ear.
"You look very nice," his breath ghosted over the skin on your neck and your breath hitched.
"You do too," you said and it was almost sweet. You needed to get him out of here as fast as possible. "You wanna go for a smoke?" you proposed.
"I don't have any cigs left," Joost said.
"I think I saw a cigarette vending machine in the lady's restroom," you said and took Joost's hand in yours to lead him through the crowd. As you reached the door to the restroom you could feel Joost hesitating. "Don't worry, there's no one inside," you said and scurried through the door frame. The door closed behind Joost and the music was reduced to some sounds in the distance. Beside the vanity was the vending machine you had spoken of.
"This is a condom vending machine," Joost stated.
"Oh," you giggled. You took out a euro from your purse and proceeded to buy one condom. "Well," you said as you took the condom from the slot. "There's always other vices you could indulge in instead," you smirked at him.
"What are you proposing?" Joost asked, his hand leaning against the wall beside you.
"What does it sound like I'm proposing?" you looked up at him, condom in hand.
Joost took the condom from your fingers and put it in his pocket before he leaned down and his lips crashed into yours. His right hand held the back of your head, the other grabbed you by your hips. Your lips hungrily moved in sync with each other before they opened and your tongues met. Your arms wrapped around Joost to pull his body closer to yours. You wanted him to feel your breasts pressed against his chest. You sighed into the kiss as you could tell that this kiss alone wouldn't satiate either of you. You blindly reached for the door of one of the stalls and pushed it open before you both stumbled into it.
You broke off the kiss briefly to lock the door of the stall, Joost's mouth eagerly kissing along your neck instead. His hands were resting on your waist, slowly pushing up the fabric of your top to reveal your stomach. You were pressed against the wall of the bathroom stall, not an inch left between you. Joost's lips found yours again. You opened your legs slightly so Joost's leg could slip in between yours. His right hand trailed down your hip until it rested on your upper thigh. You couldn't stop yourself from grinding your hip against Joost's thigh as vivid images of him fucking into you flickered through your mind. You moaned against Joost's lips as you desperately needed to make your wants known.
"I- I- I need," you tried to get out in between kisses. "I need you."
"You got me," Joost murmured against your skin as he kissed down your neck again. "Don't worry, m’en meisje."
His hand ghosted up your thigh and pushed up the hem of your skirt. Your arousal was hot with anticipation. As his hand reached your panties his fingers softly grazed over the fabric right where your clit was. Your hips bucked lightly and Joost grinned against the skin of your neck.
"So eager," Joost tutted.
His fingers carefully pushed your panties to the side until his fingers could dip into your folds. Your head fell back and you bit into your lip to stifle any moans you otherwise would have let out if you two were in private.
Your folds were slick with arousal eliminating any friction as Joost's fingers started circling your clit.
"You're so wet for me," Joost whispered against your ear. Your hands were desperately grabbing onto his shoulders, keeping yourself upright as your knees buckled. Joost's other hand was resting by your side, keeping you close to him. "So ready for me," he said, voice as soft as ever.
Joost stopped circling your clit and you almost let out a groan in frustration. His fingers inched closer to your entrance until they slipped inside of you. Your mouth slacked open, eyes tightly squeezed shut and Joost's hand caressing your side. Your nails dug into Joost's skin as his fingers slowly pumped in and out of you.
"You feel so good," Joost murmured against your ear. "I bet you would feel so good around my cock." You let out a loud moan as his words triggered your vivid fantasy. "Would you like that?" Joost grinned against your skin. "Me fucking you properly?"
"God, Joost," you could only whimper.
"God, you're barely holding it together," Joost whispered. "You're so good for me," he said as he continued pumping his fingers in and out of you.
Suddenly you could hear the restroom door fling open and the voices of two women enter. Joost swiftly pressed his hand on top of your mouth but still continued moving his fingers inside of you. Your mind didn't even register what the voices outside the bathroom stall were talking about as all your mind was occupied with was Joost. Your body was trembling and you did everything in your power to keep yourself from orgasming right then and there as you knew that you would not be able to keep quiet through it. Joost pressed gentle kisses to the skin on your neck as your heavy breathing only intensified.
A few moments later the door closed and you were alone again. Just as you were about to allow yourself to climax Joost withdrew his fingers from you, leaving you trembling uncontrollably.
"Pleaseplease, Joost please," you could only press out. Joost's hand caressed your side and his lips trailed along your neck.
"Sshhh, mijn lieverd," Joost shushed, slowly brushing your hair behind your ear. "I need you to be a little bit more patient," he looked at you fondly. "I'm gonna take you back to my room and we're gonna do this properly." You let out a frustrated groan. You could feel your slick arousal almost dripping down your legs. Joost smoothed down your skirt and top (and his own pants that hid his raging boner) and pressed a gentle kiss to your lips. "Come on," Joost said with a grin, his hand held out for you to take as you still stood there dumbfounded.
Reluctantly you took Joost's hand and let yourself be led outside the restroom. You didn't take too many steps before you noticed Mona, one of the stylists on your delegation come up to you.
"(Y/N)!" she hugged you. "How are you?" Mona asked and you just stared at her blankly for a few seconds.
"Yeah, I'm good," you managed to sound out. Mona raised her eyebrows amused.
"Are you drunk? I thought they didn't serve alcohol here," she laughed. Joost looked at you with a knowing smirk.
"Aaaww, she's just a little exhausted," Joost saved you and wrapped his arm around your shoulders playfully. "I was just gonna walk her to her room."
"Oh yeah, she probably just needs some rest," Mona agreed. "We need her on her best game tomorrow," she joked and squeezed your shoulder lightly. "See you tomorrow!"
"See you," you smiled weakly as Mona walked away. Joost giggled beside you. "Shut up," you said and rammed your elbow into his ribs.
"Alright, let's get out of here."
Joost could barely close the hotel room door behind him before your lips were attacking each other again. Hands quickly roaming each other's bodies, grabbing onto any piece of clothing you could get a hold of to get rid of it. Joost's t-shirt was the first to go, swiftly followed by your top and bra. Your fingers fiddled with Joost's belt as the back of your knees hit the bed and you fell on it. You lay on top of it, only your short skirt covering you. Joost grinned down at you, observing your body spread out in front of him as he unbuckled his belt and took off his pants before he joined you on the bed.
You anticipated his lips to press onto yours again but instead, they found your neck again. His hands held onto your waist as you wrapped your arms around his neck and buried them in his hair, softly massaging his scalp. As Joost situationed himself in between your legs you could feel his hard-on press against your vulva through the fabric of your clothes. You let out a moan and Joost hummed approvingly against your skin as you could finally voice your lust for him.
Joost's mouth slowly moved down to your collarbones, alternating between peppering your skin with kisses and sucking at it. His fingers found the hem of your skirt and as he kissed along down your body he pulled the skirt down as well until you were only left in your panties. Your chest was heaving with how heavy your breathing was, anticipating Joost's next move. You let out a groan as his lips connected with the skin of your inner thighs.
"Stop being such a tease," you groaned and Joost grinned against your skin. Joost's fingers hooked in your panties before he finally pulled them down.
"What is it that you want, mijn lieverd?" Joost asked innocently.
"Jesus fucking Christ," you moaned frustrated. "I want you to fuck me finally."
"With pleasure."
Joost got up from the bed and you watched as he got rid of his underwear and you admired his length.
"Hurry," you nagged and Joost rolled his eyes with a soft laugh before he put on the condom you had bought earlier and got back in bed.
"So needy," he tutted, his lips just softly grazing yours. You held onto Joost's shoulders, his hand holding the side of your face before he slowly pushed into you. Your eyes momentarily blacked out as the pleasure spread throughout your body. Joost grunted against your skin also being lost to the pleasure. "So good for me," he praised and you wondered how much longer you would be able to keep it together.
He started slowly moving in and out of you. The slow rhythm, your hands in his hair and his lips pressed to your neck made all of this almost romantic. You wrapped your legs around Joost's hips to help him penetrate into you even deeper. With your hands in his hair, you grabbed a handful of his hair and pulled his head from where he was still kissing your neck until his lips found yours again. You moaned into the messy open-mouthed kiss before you softly pulled his hair again to make him look at you.
"Harder," you begged and Joost grinned at you.
Joost snaked his arm around your body to keep you in place, your bodies almost pressed against each other before he started pounding into you. Your nails dug into the skin on Joost's back as the moans tumbled out of your mouth uncontrollably. With each thrust, you were edging closer to your orgasm as Joost hit all the right spots inside of you. The sounds Joost was letting out of his mouth were heavenly, his grip on you dominant yet caring.
"You feel so good," Joost grunted and the sound of his voice pushed you over the edge.
Your back arched off the bed, your breath hitched and your muscles clenched until the wave of pleasure crashed down over you and you came with a series of obscene moans. As you were still riding out your high you noticed Joost's thrust becoming slopier and his moans louder until he came with stuttering hips and plopped down beside you.
You looked at each other breathing heavily and both let out a soft laugh. Joost lifted his arm to invite you to cuddle up to him. You rested your head on Joost's shoulder, your fingers softly drawing along the lines of Joost's tattoo on the side of his stomach.
"Was this okay?" Joost asked. "Are you okay?"
"Of course," you smiled. "This was perfect."
~
The ringing of your alarm on your phone woke you two up in the morning. Your limbs were entangled with Joost's, his heartbeat steady where your hand was laid on his chest. Joost rubbed his eyes, his hair messy and you never saw him look any cuter.
"What's this?" he complained before you got out of bed to turn off your alarm. As you turned around to face Joost again you noticed his eyes widen in shock. You stopped.
"What's up?" you asked blushing as Joost stared at your naked body. Confused you looked down your body and let out a gasp. "Fuck fuck fuck," you whispered, your hand in front of your lips. "This is bad." You sat down on the edge of the bed and you could feel Joost shift behind you to get closer to you. You looked down at your thighs which were littered in pink and purple hickeys. You desperately rubbed your fingers over them as if doing that could help you get rid of them.
"Oh, liefde," Joost said, his hand cautiously resting on your waist. "I'm so sorry."
"It's fine," you laughed unconvincingly, trying to calm yourself down. Joost's fingers softly grazed your collarbones and you looked down only to discover even more hickeys. "Oh god," you groaned.
"On your neck as well," Joost said meekly.
You put your face into your hands and cursed yourself for having chosen a very revealing stage outfit. "It's fine," you actually laughed this time.
"Are you sure?" Joost looked at you like a puppy who had just been caught breaking an expensive vase.
"Yes," you said and wrapped your arms around his neck. "Nothing some good foundation and an impromptu costume change can fix," you said although you already dreaded what you would have to tell your delegation about those hickeys. You leaned forward to gently kiss Joost's lips. "It was worth it," you said after pulling back and Joost gave you the proudest sweetest smile you had ever seen. Definitely worth it.
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jmliebert · 20 hours
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♡♡♡ domestic bliss with gale ♡♡♡
a lot of gentle touches and sincere "I love you"s
Gale makes you breakfast almost everyday (obviously)
sometimes when the mood takes him, he'll even do something like heart-shaped pancakes and despite it being cliche you can't help but feel your heart soften by the gesture
on special mornings, he'll even bring breakfast to you in bed, a tray laden with your favourites (he knows you very well)
and let me just say he always leaves the kitchen tidy. he may be a little messy sometimes, his (and now yours too) place may be a little cluttered, but he's a tidy wizard and clean up after himself period !!!
while we are talking about the kitchen....you had steamy sex over the counter more times that you can count
during the day, when he's immersed in his studies, you often bring him a steaming cup of coffee or a tasty snack
you sneak behind him and start massaging his shoulders, and he groans at the touch with appreciation, tenderly kissing your hands
but you're not always as merciful; seeing him hunched over his books, his brow furrowed in concentration does something for you; makes you want to melt away his stress with different type of distraction...and he's so easy to tease :))
but what I want to talk about more is simple moments you share together; like when Gale prepares a meal you hum a tune and wash the dishes, stealing little kisses from him that leave you both smiling;
you hug him from behind when he's cutting the vegetables and it feels so good to feel warmth of his body and the rhythm of his heart;
you can't resist giving his cute, small ass a cheeky squeeze, which makes him jump and laugh and then tutting and calling you a bad girl with his index finger pointed into the air (he wants to sound angry but fails)
and you can always feel his gaze on you filled with a quiet, unwavering affection
your dinners are often a candlelit affairs, filled with soft smiles and meaningful conversation. as the sun slowly fades over the horizon, you sit on the balcony, basking in the golden glow, sharing quiet moments over books (you read a lot of books at this household)
sometimes you talk about everything and nothing (gale often ranting at his students) and sometimes you fall asleep with your head on his shoulder while he still reads, or you fall asleep on his lap, as he gently massages your scalp, his fingers threading through your hair making you all cozy and cared for
sometimes during the night Gale is stargazing with you, pointing out constellations and sharing the mythology behind them, with knowing hands he gently guides your body as you peer through the telescope
I can also imagine you two spending your evenings by the fireplace with glasses of wine in hand and an enchanted piano playing softly in the background. Gale arm wrapped securely around you, his thumb tracing gentle patterns on your skin unconsciously
Gale often runs hot bath for you, joining you in the warm water. his hands move in soft circles, washing your hair, his lips leaving tender kisses on the back of your neck and not soon after you feel his growing erection poking at your back
you brush teeth side by side, and Gale watches in awe as you go through your skincare routine, simply enchanted. he loves the scent of your lotion and can’t resist leaning in to inhale the fragrance of your skin, murmuring compliments that make you blush
then you are slipping into comfy pyjamas <33 your sheets are always fresh and clean (not a single crumb on your mattress!) all ready for your nightly cuddles and whispered conversations
in bed you both read (I said before; a lot of reading)
Gale never forgets to kiss your forehead goodnight
sometimes you’re the little spoon, snuggled safely in his arms, other times he’s nestled against you, seeking your warmth. and often, you simply sleep with your head resting on his chest or his on yours, feeling the steady beat of his heart under your hand
Gale, who has spent so long alone, quickly adapts to sharing his life with you. you fit right in, he finds some peace when he's with you; quickly he can't imagine you not being here with him
when you are not around he finds it difficult to sleep, often spending the night in his study until dawn, the shadows under his eyes deepening with each hour of your absence
he's miserable without you :((
︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵
you can find more of my works about gale ♡here♡
I'm sick rn, in my bed all day long (I'm losing my mind) and needed some gale fluff to feel better so!
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kingkatsuki · 20 hours
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So I was thinking about Kaji heavier kinks. Imagine asking him to slap you, like your cheek or even your cunt but he already has difficulty not slapping your ass as hard as he wants to and now you're asking him to strike your pretty face or your pretty clit.
Those are things he kisses tenderly, how could he ever? Yet still the loving man he is he tries.
One tentative soft slap to your cunt and when you clench and moan out harder you're not realizes you're making a monster
I’ve never written a thirst post so fast in my life I’m actually embarrassed. Also I don’t know if I could ever write Kaji with cunt slaps because I fear I might not survive— that’s an unbelievably hot thought I will store in my head for later😫
Warnings: 18+, spanking, slapping. Probably shouldn’t ask this question during sex either, but I was struck by the horny so help me god smite me if you have a problem goodbye xxx
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“Slap me.” You moaned as Kaji pistoned into you with ferocity, his thrusts had you pushed up against his headboard as your thighs quivered around his waist. Tits bouncing with each sharp rut of his hips as he didn’t miss a beat, his warm palm reached out to strike the side of your thigh roughly. Catching the curve of your ass as you moaned in a mixture of pain and pleasure on contact.
“No, not there—” You gasp as he moves onto his forearms on either side of your face, tilting his head to the side to meet your gaze as he gives you a dark look.
“Then where, pretty girl—“ He brushed his lips against yours, “Tell me—“
“My face,” You gasped as his cock dragged against the spongy spot inside you, “I want you to slap me in the face.”
“No.” Kaji pulled back abruptly, resuming his previous position in front of you as he sat upright on his knees. He would’ve pulled out of you completely if it wasn’t for your thighs keeping him locked in place.
“But you spank me all the time—“ You could already feel the shame and embarrassment flowing through you at the thought that he was kink shaming you, wishing you’d waited to talk to him about this beforehand and not gotten so caught up in the heat of the moment.
“That’s different.” Kaji balked.
“How is it different?” You murmured, reaching out to smooth a palm along his chest.
“It—“ Kaji paused as he pondered his reasoning, his mind instantly filled with how pretty you looked spread out for him as he spanks your ass. Watching it jiggle on impact as the skin prickles beneath his palm, your soft skin darkening and welting as you beg him to do it again, that you can take it, “It just is! I don’t want to hurt you.”
“But I’m asking you to,” You soothed, “I like when you hurt me during sex.”
“Yeah, but what if I really fuckin’ hurt ya,” He pressed, “What if I knock you out?”
“I trust you, Ren.” You replied simply, reaching out to thread your fingers together to squeeze his hand reassuringly, “I wouldn’t even ask you if I didn’t.”
You may trust him, but Kaji sure as hell didn’t trust himself— the pretty sounds you made whenever he spanked you were enough to awaken the voracious depravity he tried his best to keep caged. It had been one too many times he’d spanked your ass a little too hard that he found himself rubbing cream into welts after a season, or watching with worry as you’d wince before sitting down.
Kaji had worked hard over the years to control his emotions, but you were the reason for his loss of control— for the beast he’d become whenever you lay beneath him, ready to devour you whole.
“I’d never force you to do anything, Ren,” You smiled softly, stroking his hand with your thumb, “So if you don’t want to it’s okay.”
“You better tell me if you don’t fuckin’ like it, yeah?” Kaji grumbles, stroking a clammy palm along your thigh.
“Of course, I’d always tell you.”
“I mean it, use the safe word— shove me off—” He presses, sincerity in his steely gaze as his heartbeat speeds up, “Call me a fucking asshole—”
You take the hand that’s linked with yours as you move it up your body towards your face, pressing his palm against your cheek softly as you look up at him with complete love and adoration.
“I trust you.”
Kaji swallows thickly, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat as he tries to remember to breathe. Drawing his palm back to make sure he doesn’t use the full force he knows he’s capable of, fingers clasped together so he doesn’t do more damage than necessary as he tentively leans forward to slap your cheek with purpose.
The hit has your face twisting to the side on impact, and Kaji’s instantly prepared to blurt out an apology when he thinks he’s hurt you. His skin prickles from where his palm made contact with your cheek, as he sees the faintest mark against your perfect skin. But the debauched, desperate whine that leaves your lips is damn near sinful as he feels your cunt clench down around his cock hard.
Kaji moans at the sensation, his blue eyes rolling back as he has to splay a hand out beside your head to stop himself from falling on top of you from how tight you just became. His heavy balls threaten to spill their load prematurely as he tries to focus.
“Fuck.” He exhales, nostrils flaring as he basks in the sight of you. The throb of your cunt around his cock almost enough to throw him over the edge as he pauses for your reaction.
“Again.” You breathe, looking up at him with pleading eyes, “Please, Ren. One more time?���
Maybe you haven’t created a monster, perhaps he has.
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tonowaritrash · 11 months
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tonowari is the type to crack jokes during sex. while he loves getting down and dirty and serious he also enjoys being lighthearted and fun. he loves listening to his partner giggle or groan at lame jokes he makes, he loves tickling and teasing and if things get awkward for whatever reason he doesn’t mind saying something to lighten the mood.
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hoodienanami · 6 days
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since were living in this new age of understanding when it comes to how becoming famous (especially tabloid famous/infamous) at a young age negatively effects your mental health and psychological development i think its time that ppl start reevaluating how they talk about the sex pistols
#sex pistols#hoodie talks#i mean i would think this regardless but seriously#any conversation about the sex pistols that doesnt include just how young they were and how mistreated by the public and press they were#is an incomplete one that doesnt address crucial aspects of their story#you cannot understand why sid vicious ended up dead from suicide at 21 without talking about this!#you cannot understand why johnny rotten is the way he is now without talking about this!#johnny got famous at 19! he spent his entire adult life famous! and by famous i mean infamous aka The Bad Type Of Famous#he was the designated acceptable target of an entire nation during some of the most formative years of his life#'why is he so mean and defensive?' oh idk maybe its bc ppl stabbed him bc he sang a song they didnt like!#imagine being 20 years old and every journo in the country is either writing about you being the voice of your generation#or about how youre the spawn of satan who should be hung from the nearest lamp post#imagine youre 20 and the government is saying that shit about you too#imagine youre 20 and every single thing you say is picked at and poured over and ascribed countless different meanings#imagine youre 20 and you cant even walk down the street without being harassed by someone you dont know#imagine youre 20 and someone sticks a razor in your hand and disables you for life bc you wrote a song they didnt like#imagine youre 20 and your neighbor barges into your flat bc your music was too loud and stabs your 14 year old friend#and then when you ask the police for help they tell you that she deserved it for hanging out with you#now imagine the kind of person youd be if you lived through all of that#and now imagine that every time you ever sorta lashed out or were kinda mean ppl said 'shut up you whiny attention whore'#imagine if everyone collectively got together when you were 19 and decided that you didnt get to be a person anymore forever#thats what johnny lydon's life has been since 1975#punk rock posting
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malkaviian · 9 months
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I can't stop imagining this character in situations so I'll share him now
#his name is beau and he was blade's high school boyfriend lel#he's a softie and had a crush on blade for a while bc he seemed Tough™️ and tried timidly to approach him a few times#so you can guess mr 'gets attached to people easily' also liked him rather quickly after they started talking#and honestly how nervous he was while with him and how he looked slightly intimidated even was like. instant crush#beau was like 15 and he was 16 when they started dating and actually they were like. 8 months together? which is a lot#they fucked a lot during that period 👍🏻 they were each other's first time and blade just couldn't stop fucking after that lel#also y'know. hormonal teenagers and all that#it was funny though. beau couldn't bring him to his house bc he was raised in christianity so he always went to blade's house#and apollo was all 👁👁 when his beloved brother was staying a lot of time on the guest room with his bf#i mean he knew they were most probably having sex. he just never wanted to ask and why would he.#they did fucked once on the school's bathroom though. hormonal teenagers again#their relationship was okay though. apollo thought he was decent for blade and beau wanted to be a good brother-in-law#he did felt. slightly wrong about the way apollo and blade interacted but he thought it was because he didn't had siblings#or so he thought! he has a half-brother called liam; who is younger for one year. they share their father#their father uh. cheated on beau's mother with liam's mother. and somehow he was able to hide it until beau was like 6#but his parents didn't got a divorce until he was 15 because they thought he was too young to deal with it yet#he meet liam when he was around 16 and they go along pretty okay!! even when. y'know the other circumstances#liam is another character i should introduce since i also imagine him in situations but this is about beau#anyways! beau broke up with blade because when his father accidentally discovered their relationship he got ENRAGED#and his mother; who is also religious but more lowkey; was like 'i would take my son being gay than being A FUCKING CHEATER'#and it was the thing that started their divorce 😭 so beau felt guilty and blamed himself. his solution was to broke up with him.#blade felt so sad 😞 beau also was tbf. to this day he still misses and thinks about him lmao#blade moved on though. but he wouldn't mind fucking him again for the old times or whatever#oc talk
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wwwbestgoredotcom · 3 months
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Francis Mosses NSFW A-Z ♡♡
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I love him <33
Reader is gn but has female anatomy.
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A-ftercare (What're they like after sex)♡
Very very tired. Everything he says afterwards is either slurred or murmured. Very cuddly tho. Will not let you go. Very sappy afterwards too; telling you he loves you and how pretty and perfect you were/are.
Takes him a second to do it but eventually gets up to get you some water while you go to the bathroom (always pee after sex!).
B-ody part (favorite body part on you & him)♡
On you, he loves your hands and lips. He holds your hand a lot during sex even if hes absolutely destroying you. And he loves your lips because he just likes kisses (and how they look wrapped around his dick). Between tits or ass tho, I think he'd prefer boobs (not pun intended). Even if their small, he looves them.
On him, he'd say his hands are his favorite. He likes the way the have so much effect on you. Like when he fingers you or grabs onto your hips or thighs or when he grabs your hand during sex.
C-um (anything to do w cum basically)♡
I think he'd prefer to cum on your stomach or ass. Though I do think he'd cum inside every once in a while. When you suck him off, he let's you take control of his dick tbh. If you want him to cum all over your face, then he will. If you want it in your mouth, then he will. If you want it on your boobs, he will. He just wants to please you fr.
D-irty secret ♡
I feel like he'd have plenty of them. A main one tho is that he's stolen one of your panties and jerked off with them before. He felt guilty afterwards so that was the only time he did that. The others are small enough for him to forget about it
E-xperience (his past experiences)
I feel like he had NO BITCHES before you came (tee hee) along. He was a quiet kid and just focused on himself, maybe had a couple gfs and intimate moments but you're probably the first "real deal" to come into his life in terms of love.
F-avorite position ♡
He'd like the classics. Like missionary, cowgirl, doggie, etc etc. He'd probably like missionary and cowgirl most. Missionary because of the intimacy. Cowgirl bc sometimes he wants some but he's tired (and boobs).
G-oofy (how serious/unserious are they during sex)♡
He's pretty in the middle. Sometimes he likes to slowly fuck you while you two have a normal conversations so sometimes there's jokes thrown in there. But if it's rougher/faster, he's more serious.
H-air (what kind of hair they got down there)♡
I think he trims it. Keeps it tame. He doesn't shave it clean tho, unless you tell him to, then he might. For the rest of his body, he does have some hair but not a lot.
I-ntimacy ♡
Oh this boy is INTIMATE. The kind of mf that looks at sex like "love-making" instead of just "fuck". Loves praising and listening to what you say. You say harder and he goes harder, you say slower and he goes slower, etc etc. Most of the sex you two have will most likely be when he's tired/half awake so all the praise and such are slurred in such a beautiful way yk.
J-ack off (how often does he jack off)♡
Other than what I said in the dirty secret section, he doesn't really do it anymore. Why imagine you when he has you right there?
K-inks ♡
Praise - he likes receiving and giving praise. He likes talking you through it, telling you how good you feel and how much he loves you.
Marking - he'd like to leave hickeys on you, not for a way to "claim" you, but just because he wants to and he likes your reaction to it when I sucks on your sweet spots.
Overstimulation - he likes to BE overstimulated. Sometimes he wants to keep going but his body doesn't or he's too tired so he just begs you to just ride him til he cries or passes out.
Nipple play - he likes to pinch and massage your boobs a lot. Even if you're not having sex, his hand lives on your boob. Most of your foreplay is him sucking and nibbling on your nipple, pinching your other one while he fingers you.
L-ocation (their favorite locations to do it)♡
I feel like he'd only want to do it at home. He doesn't like public stuff. At home tho, he'd do it anywhere; on the dinner table, kitchen, bedroom, bathroom, living room, anywhere. He could do it in the car tho. Maybe if he gets too worked up after a date and your apartment is too far away.
M-otivation (what turns him on)♡
Tbh. Everything. Skin tight shirts, your sleepwear (no matter what it is), etc. He likes when you take care of him too, just loving him turns him on.
N-o (some turn offs)♡
I'm so sorry yall but I think he'd say no to bdsm. Like maybe SOME parts of it he can do but like hard-core bdsm is a no.
He wouldn't want to actually hurt you in any way. Spanking is ok if it's not full force but like actually causing you pain is a no.
And he wouldn't like shit with pee, poop, and vomit. Shits nasty.
O-ral ♡
Oh bro. He EATS. Man can eat you out for hourss if you let him. He was a little shit at eating pussy at first but with more practice, he gets better and better. Like I'm talking about EATING pussy. There's no kitten licking with him, he is in. There.
And he loves when you suck him off. He talks while you do but they're all murmurs so no one knows what he's saying. He fucks your face gently (unless you tell him you want it rough) everytime. Mutters praises all throughout it and let's out of raspy moan when he cums.
P-ace ♡
Unless he's dead tired, he goes at whatever pace you want. When he's dead tired he wants to go slow and sensual. But if he had energy, he'll go at whatever pace you want him to go at. He starts off slow but if you tell him to go harder and harder he will beat that pussy numb.
Q-uickie (opinions on quickies)♡
I think he'd want to take his time with you so quickies are eh to him. If you seriously cannot wait but you can't leave wherever you are for too long, he'll take you somewhere private to eat you out till you're satisfied (or suck him off until he's satisfied).
He will leave an event for the day to have sex with you tho. If it gets that bad.
R-isk♡
To keep it short, he'd be down for experimenting as long as it's not in his "no" list.
S-tamina ♡
Again, depends on you. If you wanna ride him till the sun comes up, he'll thug it out for you. He likes overstimulation anyway. But tbh he rlly only goes for 2 rounds until you have to take over.
T-toys (toys they own)♡
I don't think he has any toys for himself. And he wouldn't really care if you had your own toys. He's fucked you with your toys before; like a vibrator up to your clit while he fucks you or a dildo in you while he sucks on your clit.
U-nfair (do they tease? And how often)♡
He doesn't really edge or tease you, but when he does, it's on accident. Sometimes he pulls out to cum on your stomach and accidently edges you. He doesn't mind when you do it to him. Feels good.
V-olume (how loud are they during sex)♡
Loud asf. Like I said, he talks during it, like murmuring and slurring his words. He's a moaner and whimperer too. Occasionally groaning but not really.
He LOVES when you're loud tho. He encourages it actually. Turns him on more.
W-ild card ♡
To add onto "volume", he talks dirty so much, even if it's under his breath. Like omfg the filth that comes out of his mouth is so unexpected.
Also, the amount of times you two were getting rough with it and he got that phone call (ykwim), he doesn't stop. He slows down a bit but just continues while you struggle to not blow you're cover.
X-ray (what's in those pants)♡
He's pretty average. Long, kinda thin, a vein on the top of his shaft from the base to the middle of it. He's about 6-7 inches, and he knows how to use it. Tbh I can't decide whether he's circumcised or not so you can personally decide that.
Y-earning (how high/low is his sex drive)♡
Surprisingly high. He's down to fuck whenever. Unless he's literally about to knock out cold. But if he's awake then so is his dick. He barley asks for sex tho, he wants YOU to initiate it. He just gives hints.
Z-zz (how fast he goes to sleep)♡
Like I said before, he's literally so tired afterwards. Once he makes sure you're okay and comfy, he snuggles close to you and sleeps.
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I love him your honor.
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prettys0bbing · 2 months
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imagine recording a sex tape with boyfriend!rafe 😮‍💨🤭 he'd be so smug about it too
i love your mind. i also think just the act of recording would make him slightly feral.
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honestly i think he’d be so mean about it. he’s already kind of a bully during sex and i think that you letting him record you both would drive it over the edge. he’d start off real nice, using one hand to record while teasing your clit with the other. making sure he’s capturing how pretty you look as you moan underneath him, he’d press harder. “gotta give the camera a show, huh? show me how much of a whore you are, letting me record you like this.” his voice dripping in lust and his eyes hungry as they bore into yours. all you can do is whine back at you as he slips two fingers inside of you to prove his point.
after you finish at least once on his hand, he switches it around so you can give him head. rafe has you sit there for a moment, dirty talking you as he slaps his tip against your lips. “such a fucking slut, kid. want everyone to see how well you swallow my dick?” as you put him into your mouth, he puts the phone down at an angle where you can still see anything and gathers your hair into one hand and starts thrusting into your mouth. “takin’ it so fuckin well. choking on this dick for daddy.” he grunts, giving a few harder thrusts before pulling out to let you breathe. he wipes the spit that’s fallen on your chin across your face, before slapping you twice. they aren’t necessarily hard hits but they’re just enough to put you in a daze as he shoves his cock back into your mouth.
he fucks into your throat at an animalistic pace, holding your head still with his hand as he grabs his phone again. you moan around him, brain hazy and dumb. “wanna say hi to the camera baby?” he says as he slows down, putting the camera closer to your face to capture the mess he’s made of you. lines of mascara have travelled down your cheeks with his cock still stuffed in your mouth and he swears you’ve never looked better. “c’mon kid, on the bed.” he demands, pulling out of your mouth and tapping your cheek gently. “needa fuck your pretty pussy.” he lines himself up with you, using one hand to lift your leg onto his shoulder and record as he teases his head along your slit.
“ ‘s fuckin wet. you like this shit huh? like it when i record you being a dumb slut?” he teases as he glides through your slit with ease. without warning, he pushes into you and starts pounding into you. you let out a loud moan, grabbing onto him. you can see him smirk slightly, grabbing onto your hip to give himself more leverage to reach deeper inside of you. as he hits deeper, your eyes get hazy and you squeeze them shut. practically panting as he drills in and out, you begin to clench around him. “f-fuck rafe, ‘m gonna cum! you’re so deep god.” you whine, too fucked out to care. “cum for me dollface. show me how good it feels.” he groans, his own release steadily approaching. you spasm around him, letting out pornagraphic moans your release gushing out of you as you clench down even tighter around him.
he finishes after you, painting your insides white as his hips stutter and slow to a stop. he slowly pulls out of you while pointing the camera towards your cunt to see his cum spill out of you. “fuck baby, look at you messy you are. letting me drip out like that.” he teases, using a finger to collect some and push it back inside of you. as your leg twitches from the stimulation, he pulls back out and puts it in your mouth allowing you to taste the mixture of both of your release. “that’s my girl, always so good f’me.” he praises, cutting the camera off and leaning down to kiss you. “such a good camwhore for daddy.”
˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ 𐙚 ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖
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nanaslutt · 6 months
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male squirting.... Satoru being overstimulated to the brink of tears ? 😵‍💫♡
contains: fem reader, kiinnndaaaa sub gojo :3, whiny gojo, hand jobs, overstimulation, squirting, multiple orgasms, praise, so much dirty talk, dacraphillia, lots of talk of cum
MDNI
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You were scrolling through Twitter and came across a video of a man tied to a chair, naked. A pair of hands that were neatly manicured was jerking him off rapidly, forcing orgasm after orgasm out of his cock. It wasn't anything you hadn't seen on twitter before, but twenty seconds later you would see something new. The woman was jerking him after his orgasm, the man whining and crying, his body trying to jerk away from her touch as he was pushed into overstimulation.
He started pleading with her to slow down, saying something felt weird, and that's when it happened, he squirted. It looked so intense, his body trembling and hunching over as he screamed through another forced orgasm. You squeezed your thighs together feeling yourself grow aroused between your legs, a vivid image popping into your head of trying this with Satoru. You replayed the video over a couple times, pretending the faceless pale man in the chair was your boyfriend, even though they shared no resemblance to one another.
You were sure Satoru would be up to trying something like this, the two of you had a very adventurous sex life and were always sharing new ideas with the other on fun things you could do in the bedroom, and this looked very fun. You quickly copied the link and switched to messages, sending it to your boyfriend who was currently at work. You hoped he wouldn't see your message until he had a break, but you had sent him worse things during worse moments, so it would be fine.
Moments after you had sent the video to Satoru, your phone lit up with his name big and bold on the screen, vibrating in your hand. "Satoru? Why are you calling me at work?" You asked, pressing your phone to your ear. "Tell me you want to do that to me, thats why you sent me that right?" He asked rushed, excitement laced in his tone. From the backround noise from Gojo's end of the call of birds chirping and leaves rusting through the trees with no voices besides his to be heard, you guessed he was supervising sparing and had stepped away.
"I dont think I need to ask if you want to try it then~" You laughed into the receiver. Gojo was currently leaning his head back against a building of Jujutsu high, his eyes scrunched shut as he imagined your hands on him, overstimulating him like the woman had done in the video. "Are you kidding? I'm all over that~" He cracked his eyes open, a smile gracing his features. "My pretty girlfriend making me squirt? didn't even know that was possible, I've been missing out." He sighed.
"Wanna give it a go tonight then? Wouldn't want you to miss out any longer." You said teasingly, biting your lip as you pressed your thighs together once more. "Why wait that long? I get off in an hour, I'll see you and your pretty hands then~" Gojo said singsong like into the phone. The two of you said your goodbyes before you ended the call, your fingers taking you back to the video so you could watch it over and over again, picking up some techniques the woman used that you could use on Satoru."
--
"She used a lot of lube so.. this is gonna get messy." You said, popping open the lid to the lube bottle you kept on your side table. Gojo was laid down on the bed, a towel under his ass as you sat on his thighs, one hand stroking his cute leaking cock, while your other squeezed the plastic bottle, watching the slippery substance drip down onto his cock in thick strands.
Gojo hissed when the cold lubricant came into contact with his dick, keeping his eyes on your slender hands wrapping around him. "If you make me squirt it's gonna get a hell of a lot messier too~" Gojo chimed in, biting his lip when you used one of your hands to wrap around his tip, rolling it around in circular motions in your palm, the other slowly jerking the rest of his massive length. "You will," you assured him, your eyes sliding up to make contact with his.
"Gotta say the safeword If it gets too much, kay Toru?" You asked, making sure he acknowledged your words before things got too intense. "Yeah yeah, F-fuuuck, I won't though~ I can take it." He said confidently, flashing you a cocky smile as you slowly and steadily jerked him off.
"Fuck.." Gojo murmured under his breath, his eyes dropping as he watched you work slowly on his dick, the copious amount of lube you used creating a loud and vulgar slick noise every time your hands moved on him. "It's so wet," Gojo groaned. You could feel his thighs flexing under your ass as he started getting into it. "Yeah? Does it feel good?" You asked, picking up the speed of both your hands a bit. "Yeah.. fuck- feels like I'm inside you." Gojo groaned, his jaw falling open and his breath picking up as he watched you jerk him off, both of your hands now screwing down the length of his cock together, making sure to squeeze at the tip.
"I feel this wet?" You almost laughed, taking note of how the lube coated his balls and was steadily dripping down the insides of his thighs. "You're wetter." He smirked back, his smile quickly fading when you paused one of your hands, opting to rub right under the head of his cock while the other kept jerking him off. You bit your lip, noticing how his eyes were rolling back in his head. "Feel good right here, Toru?" You asked, pressing your thumb into his frenulum with more force, a shaky whimper leaving his lips.
"So fucking good," Satoru praised, pulling his hip between his teeth. You slid the pad of your thumb from his frenulum to the slit on his tip in a smooth rhythm, up and down, up and down, making Satoru groan through clenched teeth. "Oh fuck- keep fucking doing that- sh-it." Gojo was humping his hips into your fist, chasing the stimulation, making your body bounce slightly on top of his thighs. "Satoru quit moving, let me do all the work." You spoke softly, giving his shaft harsh strokes that made him whine.
"Okay- okay, baby- just please don't stop, please." He replied with an aroused smile plastered on his face. You giggled at his desperation, continuing your ministrations on his cock so he didn't grow any needier. "I won't Toru, I got you~" you assured. His head flopped back onto the pillows with a groan when you started stroking him with both hands once again, rotating your hands up and down the length of his cock, making the coil in his tummy rapidly tighten itself up.
"Fuck- fuck me baby fuck-" Satoru whined through his teeth, the words strung together as he tipped his head down, nodding as you jerked his cock quick and rough, making his body wiggle around on the sheets. "You like that? Like when I jerk you off like this?" You cooed, biting your lip as you darted your eyes back and forth between his flushed cock and his pretty face scrunched up in pleasure.
Your words went straight to his cock, if you weren't gripping him so hard you might've been able to feel how hard he twitched in your hands. "God I fucking love it, baby, makin' me feel so g-good." Gojo groaned through his teeth. He really wanted to keep watching you but he physically could not keep his head up anymore. He let his head fall back into the pillows once more, screwing his eyes shut as he let you work him up to his high. "Shit.. I feel it coming pretty girl.." Your boyfriend let you know, his breathing picking up when he felt his balls start to tighten, the warmth in his belly growing warmer and warmer, all telltale signs of his orgasm approaching.
"You got this baby, gonna fuck you through it and you're gonna take what I give you like a good boy, isn't that right?" You spoke sweetly, a teasing tilt to your voice as you hyped him up. He nodded his head against the pillows, keeping his eyes shut, face still screwed in pleasure, his jaw clenching and unclenching as he tried to brace himself for what was to come. "Gonna take it, 'm your good boy, baby~" Satoru responded, trying to smile through his arousal.
You felt his warm cock pulse strongly against your fingers at the same time his breathing stilled, right before the first rope of his cum shot out of his dick and splattered onto his abdomen. Gojo groaned loudly through his teeth, his body jerking inwards at every wave of his orgasm. "Yeah~ Good boy, just like that, keep cumming for me Toru~" You praised, jerking your hands rapidly over his dick, coating your fingers and his cock in his cum, mixing with the lube already smothered on his cock.
"Shit- s-shit- nnghhh-" Gojo groaned through his orgasm, his hips jerking up into your hand as he came. You continued to stroke him through the aftershocks of his high, which was bearable for the first four seconds before he started fighting the pleasure you were giving him. Whines and gasps were being pulled from his lips when you didn't slow down your hands on his cock, keeping up the mean rough pace on his length, simultaneously twisting your palm over his too-sensitive cockhead.
His hips jerked back, into the sheets as he tried to excape your ruthless hands, his chin shot down to his chest as he watched you sit on top of him, lip pulled between your teeth as you tried to work him through his overstimulation. "Ffffffuck!" He finally vocalized, his entire body thrashing and twitching agaisnt the sheets, knees trying to curl upwards, thighs pressing together, anything to excape the overbearing pleasure that wouldn't stop coming.
"You're doing so good baby, so good, don't fight it." You talked him through it, trying to get his overwhelmed brain to slow down. "Oh-ohmygod it's too much-" He cried, his hands heaving the pillows he was gripping next to his head and slapping down on your thighs, digging his nails into the skin there. You swear you saw tears forming in his eyes before he screwed them shut once more, his jaw falling slack as he turned his head back and forth against the pillows, he looked so hot like this.
"You wanna squirt don't you baby? I thought you could take it, must not want it that bad." You teased, trying a different method to instill the confidence in him that he needed in this moment to get through this. "N-no I want it- wanna- wanna squirt-" He whined, his breathing starting to even out, his overstimulation must be fizzling out. "That's right, that's my good boy Toru." You smirked proudly down at him, finally noticing your own arousal that was throbbing between your legs.
"Goddd~ l-love when you call me that~" He giggled, his eyes cracking open as he tilted his head to the side so he could see you, keeping his head pressed into the pillows. You giggled before rubbing your thumb against his frenulum again. His breath hitched, his nails digging into your thigh right before cum shot out of his cock again, weaker this time. The ropes of his seed barely made it to his abdomen, most of it coating your fingers and easing the slide over his cock, making it impossibly more slippery.
"You really like it right here, huh?" You asked, continuing to massage the spot in little circles as you worked his seed out of his shaft. Gojo's body jerked forward, his legs shaking with the intensity of his second orgasm so soon after the first. He stayed silent, his mouth agape as he let you work him through his high. He came down with a gasp, greedily swallowing air into his lungs, panting when he was once again granted the short intermission before his cock was assaulted with your hands overstimulating him.
This time, you did see the tears fall down his cheeks when you didn't stop. The squelches emitting from his cock were sooo loud, so lewd, you guaranteed if you pulled your panties down right now, they would be flooded. The lube and cum created such a mess on your fingers as you rapidly stroked over him, your hand looking like a blur from how fast your pace was. One of Gojo's hands gripped your wrist harshly, almost stopping the movements completely. Good thing you had another hand, you used it to rotate over his tip, slightly punishing him for trying to stop you.
"Baby s-stop- stop I c-cant I c-cant do it-" Gojo cried, fat tears falling over his flushed cheeks, wetting the hair on the side of his face. He didn't say the safeword, but he sounded so desperate so you slowed your hand ever so slightly before you spoke, "This is gonna be the one Toru, just one more and you're gonna squirt for me, promise." You encouraged, nodding at him when he cracked his lids open, teary eyes locking onto yours. "Ohhhhmygod I don't know If- Ugh-" He tried protesting, raking his nails into your thighs.
"You can do it, you're so close baby, so close, it's gonna feel so fucking good." His hand had loosened his grip on your wrist, his head weakly nodding at your words. "I- I think I'm gonna cum already-" His words cut off with a whine, his chest heaving as he took sharp breaths into his lungs, high-pitched wines spilling from his lips as he felt his third orgasm come on. This time it felt a little different, it felt deeper, stronger, he couldn't really explain it, all he could do was take the painful pleasure, letting your hands milk him dry as his tired body tried its best to relax against the sheets.
The towel under his ass was already soaked with cum and lube, and you figured it was about to get a whole lot wetter, you weren't sure why you bothered putting a towel down in the first place.
Gojo started leaking under your thumb, a substance thinner than his cum spurting out of his cock in little amounts. "Baby- baby fuck- It- I cant- I cant-" He wined, losing his composure when he felt it creep over him. This new sensation was taking over his whole body, everything from the tips of his toes to his ears felt flushed, he felt like he was suffocating with how hard it was to take a good breath into his lungs, the feeling making him hyperventilate.
"You can, I got you, baby, I'm right here, let it out, squirt for me Toru~" You encouraged, jerking him off with more vigor, continuing to rub your thumb over his frenulum and flushed tip, steadily leaking the liquid. His thighs rapidly clenched under yours, his chin dropping to his chest to watch his dick, his intense eyes waiting to see something miraculous happen right when his orgasm hit. And fuck did something happen.
A clear liquid sprayed out of his cock, the stream coming out stuttered as you jerked him through it, moaning with him. "Oh my god you're doing it baby, good fucking job, fucking give it to me Toru~" You groaned, slamming your hands down on the length of his cock, fucking his orgasm out of him. He was being so loud, you were lucky your neighbors lived a good distance away, or they might call the cops because it seriously sounded like someone was being tortured, and in a way, he was.
His body shook and trembled, even after you slowed your hands on him. Tears streamed down his bright red face as his eyes fought to stay forward in their sockets, his hands weakly twitching against your thighs, nails digging into the skin. You leaned forward, wiping your hands off on the bed sheets before you took his teary face in your hands, pressing kisses to his open mouth, sweaty forehead, blushed nose, anywhere your lips could touch.
"Good boy Toru, good fucking boy." You giggled, wiping his tear-soaked hair away from his face as his glossy eyes made eye contact with yours, his hands wrapping around your waist. "How did that feel? Was it everything you thought it would be?" You giggled. His body twitched under you, your boyfriend's chest still heaving up and down rapidly. "Better, I love you, l-love you." He stuttered, closing his eyes as you pressed kisses to his tearstain cheeks and eyelids.
"C-couldn't have done that without you." He whispered, wrapping his arms around your body and pressing your weight onto him, his sticky cock sticking to your clothes in the process, but you would worry about that later, Satoru needed your utmost attention to calm down right now. "I love you too, my amazing boy~" You praised, letting him pull you tighter, your head digging into his neck as you pressed little kisses into the skin there.
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sinfulspencer · 9 months
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Prompt: It’s too hot to wear clothes at home, so Reader walks around in her underwear. Spencer loses his train of thoughts at the sight.
Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader
Rating: mature (18+)
Warnings: light dom/sub dynamic (Dom!Spencer, Sub!Reader if you squint), dirty talking, hair pulling, light impact play, breeding kink, unprotected sex 
Words: 5.0k
A.N.: Horny Spencer. That’s it. Also, this is the first official Spencer Reid fic I have written since last year. It felt so good to write for him again. Written this with a prompt from the Summer Sunshine challenge by @imagining-in-the-margins. Thank you to @reidselle and @drgenius-reid for beta-reading this fic!
MASTERLIST. REQUEST GUIDELINES. TAGLIST FORM.
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When Spencer asked you to move in with him at the end of the year, he was ready to face every challenge that life would throw at him. The first fights over laundry, the first fight over whoever almost set the house on fire, the first fights over the person that was supposed to remake the bed before going to work, the first fights over whoever left the TV on before going to bed… 
He was prepared for everything.
Spencer learned to cook (he wasn’t good at it, but he knew how to turn on the stove and boil some water, at least). He learned how to do laundry. He learned how to clean the floors without you falling on your own ass because he forgot to tell you that the ground was wet. 
But Spencer wasn’t ready for the summer. 
You moved in with him during the fall season, when it was still cold outside, and it was time to drink hot chocolate in front of the fireplace. You moved in with him when you were still wearing a winter jacket, leather boots and a scarf around your neck. You moved in when the wind was so cold that you could barely keep the window slightly opened in the bathroom after taking a shower to let the steam go out. 
Spencer wasn’t fucking ready for summer.
The hot weather was already taking a toll on his poor body and he hated it. Spencer despised the high temperatures because they made him sweat like a pig and he hated, more than anything, the feel of sweat under his armpits or behind his knees. 
Normally, before you moved in, Spencer would spend the whole time at home completely naked or wearing only underwear. It wasn’t an everyday occurrence, but it happened quite a lot. 
What was the problem, then?
Spencer used to walk around in his apartment in his underwear when he was alone, but you’re doing it while he’s in the house. He knew you paced around the house that way because you felt comfortable, but still. He was a stupid man, with hormones that rushed through his body like crazy.
You walked around your shared apartment with nothing on but a pair of panties that Spencer always wanted to rip off you and a stupid bra that made your breasts look even more delicious. 
And the sight had started to take a toll on Spencer for the worst. He was constantly horny, making it difficult for him to focus on simple tasks such as cleaning the whole apartment or doing laundry. 
He woke up one day and you already were parading yourself in your underwear, which made his morning wood even more difficult to take care of. He came home that same night and you were still in your underwear, which led him to forget he was supposed to grab some dinner with Luke because he ended up taking you against the bedroom door.
Spencer didn’t want you to wear clothes if you were too hot, but he also needed to learn how to keep his hands to himself whenever he saw an inch of your naked skin. He felt like a teenager, always eager to touch and ravish what belonged to him.
When Spencer tried to explain the situation to Luke, his colleague laughed right in his face. At first, Spencer was offended. 
‘Why are you complaining about seeing your girlfriend’s tits? You should be happy she feels comfortable around you.’
And Spencer was happy; he truly was. He was proud to know he made you feel good about yourself and allowed you to walk around the house almost naked, but he also felt like an idiot for getting a boner whenever he thought about coming home and knowing he’d find you dressed like that. 
Or better, undressed. 
That night, Spencer couldn’t wait to get home and tell you that he had a birthday party to attend next week. It was Penelope’s birthday and, as every year for the past ten, she had an entire day planned for her and her friends from work. There would be a huge pool party in a small agritourism she rented for the day, followed by a barbecue and a whole garden to explore. 
Spencer was excited to bring you there. 
You had been dating for over a year now and you couldn’t meet his co-workers and friends because you always had meetings to attend, or shifts that were incompatible with the nights the team hung out all together. 
“Y/N?” Spencer called out when he entered his apartment. 
The lights in the kitchen were on and he could hear you humming to a song blasting from the speakers. 
He dropped his bag on the floor and followed the sound of your voice, only to find you in nothing but your underwear. Again. You had your back turned and were swaying your hips to the rhythm of the music, making Spencer smile at the sight. Though the music was loud and almost hurt his ears, he was willing to tolerate the loud volume if it meant he could observe you in your element for hours on end. 
He was so enamoured with you even though you weren’t doing anything in particular. He fell harder for you everyday just watching you exist, breathe and live on your own.
But of course, the romantic thoughts in his head abruptly stopped when you felt his presence in the room and you screamed.
“Fuck! What the fuck, Spencer?!”
He didn’t want to laugh at your terrified expression, but a chuckle fell from his lips. 
“Did I scare you?”
You roll your eyes, dropping your apron on the counter. “No. I screamed because I was learning how to fry scream. Fuck yes, you scared me.”
Spencer walked to the other side of the kitchen counter and wrapped his arms around your shoulders, pulling you into a tight hug. You smelled like apples and he could see them in the corner of his eyes, all peeled up. 
“How was work? Did you get your stuff done?” you asked
Spencer nodded his head, kissing your temple without losing his grip on you. “Yes. I’m exhausted, though. I couldn’t wait to get home so I could relax and enjoy some time with you.”
You leaned forward, caressing his soft curls. “I bet you’re tired. You’ve been awake since five in the morning.”
As Spencer left the kitchen to get changed, he heard the music turning back on and he smiled. Your footsteps echoed in the room, and he smiled because he knew you were dancing to your favourite songs again. But still, there was a big problem that needed to be solved at that instant. 
You were still in your underwear and of course, he had noticed that. How couldn’t he? 
Spencer saw you for less than three minutes and yet, the bulge in his trousers made it difficult for him to think straight. He didn’t know how it was possible for you to turn him on that much, but you did and it was starting to make things harder for him.
If Spencer brought you to Penelope's birthday party, you were definitely going to wear a bikini. And a bikini is basically the same thing as your underwear… which meant one thing.
“Oh no.”
“Are you talking to me?”
Spencer turned around, attempting to cover the issue between his thighs with the jacket he brought to work that morning. 
“Uh, no love. No, I was just thinking about… something.”
“Care to share?” you asked with an innocent smile.
Spencer knew that smile was actually innocent; you had no ill intentions, but his brain was starting to play games with him. He was so turned on that Spencer thought every little microexpression on your face and every move you made were just actions to tease him and work him up. 
They were not. Or maybe they were.
“Sorry, uh… Yeah. Penelope invited me to her birthday party this Saturday.”
Your face enlightened at his words. “Oh! That’s so nice!”
“She asked me to bring you, too.” 
“I don’t like the tone you just used. If you don’t want to bring me, that’s…”
Spencer widened his eyes, realising that his words might’ve sounded rude. “No! I’m excited to let you meet all of my friends and co-workers, truly.”
“Then, what is it? I know there’s something that bothers you.”
You sat on the bed with your legs crossed, waiting for Spencer to continue but, he didn’t dare to move. If he placed his jacket on the bed, you would’ve noticed the painful tent in his trousers. If he didn’t move, you would’ve asked him why he wasn’t taking off his clothes and putting on more comfortable ones.
Too many thoughts were running wild through Spencer’s brain and it was difficult for him to gather them all, cast aside the naughty ones and focus on the more normal ones. 
It was tough not to stare at the curves of your breasts and how he could see the shadow of your nipples hidden behind the fabric of your bra. He has spent so many hours just licking and sucking your skin around your breasts, that he can still taste you on his tongue if he focuses hard enough. 
“Penelope has rented a whole place for all of us.”
You hummed, tilting your head. “Sounds really nice. Is there a swimming pool involved? Is that why you’re worried?”
Spencer bit his bottom lip, forcing himself not to stare at the way your hair fell over your shoulders and covered the laces of your bra. A few days ago, he used his teeth to remove that same bra. It was a struggle not to think about that night, and he pathetically failed.
“I’m sure the place she rented is clean and…”
As you started to speak and comfort Spencer over his fear of germs, his mind wandered elsewhere. You moved to the centre of the bed to be closer to him and laid on it, with your arms behind your head and your body all stretched out. 
Your bra barely covered your full breasts and your thighs were much more visible, with all the little bruises still peppering your skin. The same bruises he caused two days before. The same bruises you begged him to create on. 
Spencer’s brain was starting to get even foggier. 
“Are you even listening to me, love?” 
You snapped your fingers in front of his face and Spencer dropped the jacket on the floor, quickly bending over to pick it up. Of course, he was listening to you, but he was just… thinking about something else while you were talking. 
“Hm.”
“I’ll take that as a no.”
Spencer turned away from you and looked down, frowning. His bulge was still there and getting more painful, but how in the world was he going to face you and ask you if you could help him out? He knew you would, in a heartbeat, but he felt miserable. 
How could he ask you to stop walking around his place in nothing but your underwear when he wanted to worship your body every hour of every day? How could he deny himself the sight of your stunning body? 
His eyes went straight to your breasts and of course, you noticed it. 
“Spencer!”
“Hm? What’s up?”
“My God.” - you started to say, sitting up on the bed - “You’re distracted! You can’t even finish a sentence or listen to me.”
Spencer hummed again, forcing his eyes to stay on your face. Unfortunately, they slipped down to your breasts once again - but that time, Spencer didn’t deny it. How could he? He had been so obvious since he arrived home, but you thought to yourself that maybe you were imagining things.
Or you were too horny, but you weren’t. He was. 
“I’m sorry, it’s just…”
“You’ve been staring at my breasts since you saw me in the kitchen.” you stated
Spencer sighed, turning his back on you again. “I’m sorry. They’re distracting.”
“Look at me, love.”
He lingered for a few seconds, covering his face with both hands. He didn’t want to turn around because he knew you would’ve teased him for hours on end, but it truly wasn’t his fault. It was his brain that tricked him into staring at your boobs and remembering all the things he did to you the night before and all the other days. 
It wasn’t his fault he had an eidetic memory and he could replay all your moments of intimacy together each time he wanted. How you looked when he kissed your neck, how you moaned when his tongue swirled around your nipples…
“You can look at them whenever you want, you know.” - you tapped his shoulder, kneeling behind him on the bed - “I’m your girlfriend, aren’t I?”
“That’s not the point, Y/N.” - Spencer replied, forcing himself to turn around - “You’re so distracting, I can barely think when you’re there… dressed up like that.”
You raised your brows. “Do you want me to change?”
“No!” - he exclaimed, before clearing his throat - “I mean… maybe. I don’t know, but I can’t keep getting hard because you’re half-naked.”
“What’s wrong with being attracted to me, love?” you asked with your arms crossed.
“There’s nothing wrong with that, you know, but it’s hard to be around you when all I think about is how I want to just…” - he took a deep breath before shaking his head - “I need to behave, I’m sorry.”
There was a moment of silence where you pondered over his words. He seemed so miserable and all because he was so attracted to you that he could barely think, that he could barely remember that he had other things to do other than you. 
That felt incredibly hot. 
Leaning forward, you placed a hand on his hip. “I want to hear what you’re thinking about right now.”
Spencer shook his head, covering your hand with his. “It’s too early.”
“It’s never too early to make love to your partner, Spencer.”
You were right, he knew that, but he also knew that if he kissed you and took you right there, he would’ve spent the whole night just trying to do it over and over until you were too tired to move or to keep your eyes open. 
Spencer sighed and looked down at you. “You drive me crazy.”
“And what’s the harm in that, love?” you asked innocently 
He moved his hands under your neck and forced you to look at him, gripping your chin with his fingertips. You went quiet, trying to decipher the expression on his face, though the tight grip was already a good hint of what he was thinking about.  
“No harm.”
“Exactly, so… What’s stopping you?”
Spencer knew nothing was stopping him from pressing your body onto the mattress and pounding into you. He had every right to do so because he knew you wanted it as much as he did, but still. There was an issue to fix and he refused to let his hormones get in the way, once again. 
But maybe just this time, Spencer thought.
You leaned your head against his palm, and closed your eyes when his fingers brushed over your cheek. He could look at you for hours, admiring how you basked in the sweetness of his touch that you found so comforting. 
“Nothing’s stopping me.”
You sighed, running your hands over his chest. “Good.”
Spencer unbuckled his belt and the metal clanking of it falling onto the floor brought an eager smile to your lips. Of course you smiled, because you were about to get exactly what you wanted since he came home. 
Little minx, Spencer thought. 
“You don’t need to hold back from what you truly desire, Spencer.” 
He drank up your words like they were the sweetest honey and he sighed. You were right; he didn’t need to stop himself from putting his hands over you if you wanted to be touched as well, but still.
“If you want to rip my underwear off me, you can do it.” - you muttered, slowly opening the buttons of his shirt - “If you want to fuck me like this, while I’m almost naked and you’re still dressed, you can do it.”
Spencer watched as your skilled fingers pushed his shirt off his shoulder and sighed, because there was nothing else he could do or say at that moment. You had him wrapped around your tiny finger and you knew it, which was why he loved you so much. You could’ve snapped your fingers and he would’ve dropped to his knees for you. 
“I just.. I just need to have you. At all times.”
“You can.” - you replied with no hesitation, only firmness in your voice - “I am here for your pleasure. Always.”
Spencer released a long sigh. “I know. I’m so lucky.”
Pushing his trousers down his legs to reveal his soft skin, you looked up at him with your lips turned into a wicked grin. You could see the emotions rapidly changing behind those eyes: lust, frustration, love, annoyance and desire. That was exactly what you wanted: you craved to drive Spencer crazy and you needed him to lose his mind over you. 
It made you feel powerful.
“You’re so pretty when you’re desperate for me.” you said 
Spencer leaned into your touch when you reached out for his face. “So are you, princess.”
But the tender moment was gone as fast it came, because there was no time to be nice to one another. Spencer wanted to wreck you and you wanted him to do as he pleased; you wanted the pleasure to consume him, and so it did.
Spencer kissed you for the first time since he came home and, of course, he had no time to be nice. His tongue pushed into your mouth without warning, but you let it as you laid down on the bed with the man on top of you. The kiss expressed all the frustration that had built within him ever since he came home and found you in the kitchen, wiggling your ass to the music and singing at the top of your lungs. 
His teeth dug into the soft flesh of your bottom lip and you whined, almost tasting blood on your tongue. 
“Let me be rough tonight.”
You grabbed him by the chin, staring right into those honey-coloured eyes. “Perhaps I was not clear with my words a moment ago, Spencer. I want you to do whatever you want to me.”
Spencer groaned at your words and pushed any rational thought out of his mind, allowing the frustration and profound desire felt for you to drive him. His pupils were blown wide with unbridled lust making you shiver, bringing the heat between your thighs where you so desperately wanted to be touched. 
Spencer kissed your mouth before moving down to your throat, attacking it with bites and gentle licks that made you whimper. 
“I’m going to ravish you tonight, my princess.” - Spencer whispered to your ear, running his hands all over your breasts - “And you’re going to take my cock like the good girl I know you are for me, yeah?”
“Yes. Yes, love.”
He moved his hands to your face, kissing the tip of your nose. “Hands and knees.”
You scrambled to turn around, struggling to move as his arms didn’t give you as much space as you needed. Spencer, ever so helpful, pulled your hips up when you managed to roll on your tummy. 
“Good girl, that’s it.”
You could feel his cock against your ass when he leaned forward to bite your shoulder and you moaned, closing your eyes. His nails dug into the soft flesh of your back, dragging your panties down your thighs before throwing them on the floor. 
Spencer’s mouth wandered down your neck, leaving a trace of kisses that started from your right shoulder and went down to your ass. He nibbled at the soft skin right below it before biting down, hard enough to draw blood. You yelped at the feeling, but didn’t complain as your hands scratched the blanket. 
Spencer pulled away for a second and traced the small wound with the tip of his index, earning a hiss from you. It hurt, but you wanted it to hurt - you promised you’d bleed for him, and bleed you did. 
“Good girl. So pretty for me.” - Spencer whispered, but you were more focused on the sound of a bottle of lube being opened - “I’m sorry, I’m so impatient to have you. I wish we could take this slow, but I can’t.”
“It’s okay, I know you’re desperate.” - you mumbled, moaning softly when his fingers breached your entrance - “It’s fucking cold.”
He chuckled at your reaction, smearing the lube all over your already wet slit. “Oops”
When you were ready, Spencer found no resistance as he slowly pushed the tip of his cock inside of you. He watched the way your walls welcomed him in and revelled in the sweetness of your whimpers and whines when you felt him. Spencer waited, watching you as you struggled to stay still for him. 
“Please, just… Get inside, for fuck’s sake.”
“Oh? Wanna take it all at once, my princess?” - Spencer asked, running his left hand through your hair - “Are you desperate for my cock? Then, fucking have it.”
In one hard thrust, Spencer bottomed out inside of you and you fell on the bed with your face in the pillow. You trembled when you finally felt every inch of his cock inside of you and you thought you were ready to fall off the edge in less than a minute. 
You were desperate for him every single time you had the chance to make love to him.
“Take it, princess. You wanted it and now you have it.”
Spencer watched you as you arched your back, tightening your grip on the bed sheets. A chorus of curses and moans flows from your lips as you try to get back on your knees, but his thrusts are too quick and harsh to let you get in position. So, again, you fell down with your face in the pillow. 
The pleasure quickly expanded through your body as Spencer never slowed down the pace of his thrusts, basking in the gentle sounds of your moans. His right hand travelled down to reach your ass, and before you felt it, you heard it - there was a brief moment of silence, followed by a loud smack and then a deep heat diffusing over your skin. 
It had been so long since he spanked you, but with that position, you couldn’t blame him.
The sensation heightened the pleasure within you. 
“Oh, fuck!”
Spencer moved both his hands on each side of your head and leaned forward, keeping his thrusts quick and regular. You could feel his body tense each time you tried to push back into him, to fuck yourself onto his cock. 
You were already close, desperate to ride that delicious end. 
“Please, more.” - you cried out again - “Please, I’m close.”
“Don’t you dare.” - he bit your earlobe - “Don’t you fucking dare come on my cock now.”
You whined at his order, not sure how you would be able to hold it and be a good girl for him. It wasn’t easy to hold an orgasm, especially if Spencer never stopped fucking into you with all the energy he had in his body. You were so close, you were right there but Spencer stopped his movements - and suddenly, you felt a warm tear slip down your cheek.
A single tear of frustration. 
Spencer forced you on your back, pushing you onto the mattress before sliding his cock back inside of you. 
“I want to see your pretty face when you come, princess.” - Spencer whispered, lifting your right leg and wrapping it around his own waist - “I want you to look at me as you come undone on my cock.”
His pace is as rough as before and you felt more tears spill from your eyes. Your hands quickly went behind his neck as you rolled your hips, a pathetic attempt at fucking yourself back onto his cock to feel more and more. 
You couldn’t form a coherent sentence. The only word that fell from your lips was a strained ‘yes’ that echoed in the room, encouraging Spencer to go harder and faster, to tear you down piece by piece.
And he looked fucking stunning as he did so. 
His lean body, his muscles were tense, a single strand of hair falling over his forehead and his tongue poking out in concentration… You wanted to get those details tattooed on your brain, on your body, every-fucking-where. 
“Such a good girl for me, huh? My pretty princess.” - Spencer whispered, looking down at you - “Always welcoming me with nothing on, knowing how crazy that makes me.”
Your lips opened slightly, more whimpers flowing from them. 
“Do you know how difficult it is to get out of here and not remember all the times I’ve fucked you against the door?” he said, his voice rough.
You shook your head, not sure if you understood what he said. 
“Fuck, you make me so horny. I fucking love your body.” - he mumbled, pressing his forehead to yours - “I always think about it and then I see dressed like that… It’s like you’re always begging me to bend you over and fuck your pretty cunt.”
You’ve always loved his dirty mouth, but that day it felt deliciously perfect. His thrusts were rough and faltering, which meant he was close to his orgasm too - you almost forgot you were close, totally enamoured by him and the way he spoke about you.  
“My slutty princess.”
You nodded with a smile, drunk on your lust for him. “All yours to use and destroy.”
You felt the pleasure built up again right behind your belly button and you knew you were close again. Spencer must’ve noticed it because he kept his pace quick, never changing the angle because he felt you clench hard around him each time he bottomed out. Your thighs were shaking around his waist and he could feel your heartbeat quickening under his fingertips. 
“My good girl.” - he mumbled, closing his eyes for a moment - “I can feel you’re close. Do you want to come on my cock, princess?”
He didn’t need a verbal answer, because soon your cries of pleasure were enough. You widened your eyes and threw your head back onto the pillow, crying out his name over and over as your nails dug into his shoulders. He could feel his skin breaking under your nails but he didn’t care. 
Spencer was too enamoured with you to realise how painful your grip was. 
“That’s it, gorgeous. You did so well.” he rewarded you with a kiss on the lips 
You barely felt it, drunk on the pleasure that he fed you. Your whole body was shuddering as Spencer helped you ride out your orgasm, but the more he thrusted, the more pain you felt stabbing you. You didn’t complain, though. 
You wanted it, you needed it and so did he. 
“Does this pretty princess want my cum deep inside of her, hm?” Spencer asked
You weren’t sure he heard you, but you managed to choke out: “Yes. Please, please, fucking do it. Please.”
A few thrusts later, Spencer granted you your wish. His warmth flooded you from the inside as he watched the way his body become one with yours, shivering with pleasure. His right hand pressed down hard below your belly button and you winced, feeling his seed run deep if that was even possible. 
It felt so incredibly good you could almost come again. 
“Ah, that felt fucking perfect.”
You closed your arms around his neck and caged him against your body, so that he wouldn’t be able to run away. Not that he wanted to, of course, but. 
Spencer didn’t move for at least five good minutes, struggling to catch his own breath while you stared at the bedroom ceiling with a grin on your face. You were deeply satisfied with yourself and you were sure Spencer was content, as well - though the conversation between you wasn’t over. 
You knew that not putting on clothes would’ve distracted him and maybe that was exactly why you never put them on when he was around in your shared apartment. It was fun to see him struggling between staring at your breasts or at your thighs, or forgetting that he had to hang out with his colleagues because he was too busy burying his face in your cunt or fucking you against a window. 
It felt good to be desired, and it felt even better knowing that it was the only thing Spencer was able to think about when he was away from you. 
“You have to stop walking around our place naked.”
You put a hand on his chest, gently pushing him upward. Spencer was still lying between your legs, but he was staring at you. 
“Naked? I am always wearing my underwear.” you stated 
Spencer bumped the tip of his nose against yours. “Which is dangerously distracting, Y/N.”
“Oh, you’re using my name in a conversation.”
“I’m being serious, princess. I can’t get a boner whenever I’m near you.” - he explained, pressing a kiss on your jaw - “Believe me, I appreciate the sight but… My brain needs some rest. And so does my penis.”
“Okay, alright. I’ll do my best to keep my clothes on.” - I decided to give in - “After six weeks of pure hell, I think you deserve a break.”
Spencer kissed your cheek, before biting it softly. “I appreciate it, my princess.”
“But that doesn’t mean I won’t do it occasionally just to drive you crazy.” you warned him 
“Oh, I’m fine with that.” - he said, rolling off your body - “But give me a heads up before doing it, okay? I wouldn’t want to come home with Luke and find you in your underwear.”
“Well… it could be fun. Maybe he’d like to join…”
Spencer covered your mouth with his’ before you could finish your sentence, but the kiss was interrupted by your loud laugh echoing through the walls. 
“Alright, Luke will never see me like this.” - you gave him a peck on the lips, pushing him off you before he could spread your legs again - “This sight is for your eyes only.”
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TAGLIST @blvebanisters @koukatsuki @moesdraft
BROKEN TAGS @alelaeljfj @donttrustlove
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simpjaes · 29 days
Text
NIGHT-SHIFT (p.sh)
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Sunghoon, a keen and professional man between the hours of 8 AM to 5 PM. ServiceKing, a faceless and proud man between the hours of 9 PM to 12 AM. Sunghoon’s secret night-life has nothing to do with the faces he sees day after day...until it does. or the one where you pay for a one on one call with a faceless cam guy you’ve been watching for a little while, and the next day your boss is avoiding you like the plague. 
minors dni 
PAIRING ― boss / cam boy!sunghoon x afab reader  
WORDCOUNT― 4.5k
WARNINGS―  dub-con since reader doesn’t know it’s him. 
CONTENT― office setting, sunghoon is a service top/soft-dom/whatever his clients need lol
 NOTE ― this was supposed to be a drabble, but i just....it needed a little more plot sorry. it's not very good, like fr this is not up to par with what I wanted... but i wrote it so im gonna post it.
nsfw tags under cut
nsfw tags― dubious consent, cam sex/virtual sex, dirty talk, masturbation instructions, umm…finger fucking, jerking off, fantasies, role-play type stuff
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
What are the chances? Honestly, what are the fucking chances?
Sunghoon sits up quickly from his relaxed position upon hearing a voice far too familiar on the other end of this call. He’s lucky he doesn’t have his camera on just yet, you’d have seen the embarrassing reaction to…well…hearing you of all people.
He knows the world can be small sometimes, but this is too small for comfort as he hears your muttered voice through the microphone again.
“So, what am I supposed to do?” You say. 
“Ah, uh–” Sunghoon pauses. There’s no way it’s actually you. Can you not recognize his voice too? “What type of call did you request again?” 
“Full service.” You remind him. 
Oh. You’re into this kind of thing? That pretty, well-mannered employee of his? The one who sips coffee quietly at her desk while actually responding to her emails? The one who never shows up to co-ed parties? The one who always dresses appropriately and addresses him in a timid way?
You…just paid a cam-boy to get you off in full? Not just any cam-boy either, you paid him?
God, his cheeks are so heated at the arousing thought. Never once has he ever imagined you in any scenario that doesn’t involve excel spreadsheets and finances. Arguably, you’ve probably never thought of him all spread out fucking his fist either but…you’ve blatantly seen him do it already.
He wonders how long you’ve been seeing this part of him, how long you’ve been getting yourself off all alone while he puts on a show for hundreds, and sometimes, thousands of people. 
As detrimental as this is, it’s his job to do this. You paid him to do it, just like how he pays you to do your job. He can’t be letting this hold him back. No, in fact, he needs to get this hour long session over with as quickly as fucking possible. 
“Right,” Sunghoon lends a chuckle, nervous sounding on his end but to you it just sounds cheeky. “Can I get your name, babe?” 
You’re quiet at first, never having done this before and absolutely not wanting this random horny guy to know who you are. Honestly, you already requested that only he turns his camera on during this call as well. As if you’d give out your real name. You give him a name that rhymes with your own instead, and there’s another chuckle after. 
He knows you’re lying. Out of all the employees that are under him, you’re the one he has to correspond with the most. After all, you’ve been up for the promotion to being his assistant for the past three months. He knows that isn’t your name. 
 Smart girl, just like he knew you were. 
“Is that so?” He tilts his head at his blank screen in amusement, watching the microphones light up with each breath. “Alright, and you’ll do everything I say, yes?” 
You nod to no one, realizing he can’t see you and instead giving him a hum and gentle words of “of course.”
His image flashes across your screen just moments later. The same as his usual streams. Face out of frame, hand strong and willing, his cock out and on display– only half hard. 
“Listen to me very carefully,” Sunghoon calls out now, as if to show you that it’s time to begin, your almost-name falling from his lips shortly after. “Don’t hold your breath, you paid good money for this, and I want to hear you.”
Oh man, this is embarrassing for you to be doing this. But truly, anything at this point is better than another night all alone. 
And he does hear you. Relishing in that voice he hears day to day reciting memos and budgets, only this time, you’re calling out pleasurable reactions to how he tells you to fuck yourself. 
He’s good at it too. You can’t help but listen to every word, touching and massaging when he instructs you to, stopping just short of orgasm for him to ask, “That feels good, doesn’t it? Wish you had me doing it for you, isn’t that right?” 
Always using the fake name. Giving you full-service by the end of the call. 
Safe to say, you’re feeling refreshed by the next morning as you ready yourself for work, wanting very much to book the infamous ServiceKing again. 
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
Fuck, he can’t even look at you. Not after the way he got off last night. 
Not after hearing you moan out the way you did while he simultaneously imagined you all spread out on his desk for him. Not after hearing the fucking wet between your legs as you frantically tried to cum when he told you to. 
Not after you did cum for him. 
“Mr. Park–” You chime through his door, not quite noticing the way he stiffens in his seat. 
God, if you had called him that last night…
“Hm?” He composes himself by acting bored and uninterested in whatever papers you have held tightly against your chest. “What is it?”
“I got the statements back from our parent company, I think–”
“Great. Just set them down on my desk.” He cuts you off, patting his desk before hoping you get the fuck out of his office before he ends up breaking office rule number one.
What is office rule number one, you might ask? Never fuck a co-worker. What’s worse is that you’re not his fucking co worker. You’re his employee.
You raise a brow at his demeanor this morning. The usual not-so-up-tight Sunghoon appearing far too distracted today compared to usual. Most mornings, he’ll at least give you a smile and a “thank you.” 
“Mr. Park, is there anything I can get for you?” You ask with concern in your voice.
Sunghoon pauses every thought in his head as he looks at you. Narrowing his eyes and wondering if maybe he’s just overreacting. Maybe he's mistaken and that girl from last night isn’t you at all. After all, there’s plenty of people with the same pitch in their voice. She didn’t even turn on her camera, and she gave him a different name anyway. 
Maybe he just wishes it was you. 
“No, I’m fine–” He says, mistakenly calling out the fake name rather than your actual name. 
You miss the way his eyes widen for a split second before correcting himself to your real name. 
“Ah, my apologies. Got a little tongue tied.” 
You stand there in shock. No way in hell he just called you by the name you spoofed to a cam-boy last night. Coincidences can be so weird, and being called that hits you a little too close to home. 
It feels awkward in the room now and both of you play it off as a genuine mistake. Though, to you, it has to be a genuine tongue-tied version of your name. Sunghoon couldn’t possibly know about that. Besides, he appears to be more tired than usual anyway, so…you choose to believe it’s a crazy coincidence. 
You give him a nervous chuckle as you wave yourself off and out of the room with a small “It’s okay, you know where I am if you need anything.”
What he needs is to watch his fucking mouth. What he needs is to stop thinking about how you just reacted to being called that. What he needs is to pretend that none of this is happening and do his goddamn work. 
And he tries. He really does. Unfortunately, his eyes go from blurs of numbers and words on spreadsheets to the window of his office. Just outside of it. You.
How is he supposed to focus after kind of, accidentally, practically fucking you? Sure, he never touched you but…it really was you. The way you reacted to that name was so telling, and he can’t help but actually check you out now. 
You, with that body. You got off to him, with those legs of your spread out while staring into a screen. All alone, listening to his voice, moaning for him…and now you’re just sitting there in your business casual outfit like he’s not unintentionally getting hard. 
So, he avoids you. At all fucking costs, he avoids you. 
You get up from your desk? So does he, making sure that if you start coming his way, he’s walking out and in the opposite direction. You send him an email? Out of office, despite clearly sitting at his desk. You call his phone to ask a question? He forwards you to his current assistant. 
And this happens for days. To the point you know that promotion is slipping from your fingers. 
Naturally, you’re frustrated with the office-dynamic. After all, you’ve heard rumors of picking favorites. You thought you were one of them, but it appears that Sunghoon may just decide to try and beg his current assistant to stay with bribes of double pay. 
You’re more frustrated as the days go by. Leaving work yet again with no good-byes from the boss who used to show appreciation for how hard you worked. He’s colder than usual, he’s stiffer than usual, he’s– a fucking asshole these days.
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
Ping! 
Sunghoon stares at his secret email in disbelief. 
NEW REQUEST FROM: [your email/username]
$500 PENDING. 
FULL SERVICE.
Requester note: work has been hard lately, will you help me de-stress for a little while? 
[ACCEPT REQUEST]   [DECLINE REQUEST]
Sunghoon hovers over the decline button for a solid thirty seconds as he burns a hole through his screen. Work has been hard for you lately, huh? Has it now? Try being him. 
He shifts his mouse to the accept button, wondering if he even needs that extra five hundred dollars. Those funds just to suffer more at work? Just to suddenly have the need randomly throughout his day to make you moan for him? Just to have the sounds of your pretty voice echoing in his head more and more the longer he ignores you? 
His finger clicks, hitting the accept button as he lets out an exasperated sigh. 
Why did he just do that?
Wait. 
Maybe this will help him get through the work weeks. Fucking you through words alone in secret, never telling you who he is, always letting you use him even if it’s just through audio and visual stimulation. 
After all, if you found out who ServiceKing is, you very well may quit. Hell, you might get him fired. Fuck.
This is dangerous. 
Yet, he feels the excitement in his gut before it even hits his cock as the clock ticks. He gets to hear you again soon, you get to watch him cum again soon, he–oh, he’s so turned on right now just thinking about it.
And the time comes too slowly for his liking. He feels as if he’s been edged by the time the two of you enter the call and he’s immediately turning his camera on. 
“Ah, look who it is,” Sunghoon starts, already positioning himself with a raging hard cock on the screen. “Had me wondering if you’d come back to me.”
You don’t know why your cheeks heat up, but the feeling in your gut is miles better than the frustration and anxiety that you felt throughout the day. 
“I was wondering the same thing,” You speak into the mic meekly, hiding your face despite knowing he can’t see it. “I just need to get my mind off of stuff for a little while.” 
“Oh yeah?” Sunghoon chuckles into the mic, his face perfectly hidden. “Wanna give me some context? Maybe I can use some of the information for–”
“God.” You immediately start, shutting the man up on the other side of the screen in an accidental frustration-dump. This is not what you paid him for, but you still appreciate the space to release your brain before, well, your cum. “My fucking boss.”
Sunghoon’s ears perk up, lazily stroking himself as you continue with a frantic voice. 
“I swear he just flipped on me. I thought I was doing so good, I thought I was gonna get that new position, but now he’s just ignoring me and treating me like some temp or something.” 
Sunghoon hums lowly, listening intently to the way you bring him into conversation to a man that…unfortunately, is that very same boss.
“Hmm, that’s interesting.” Sunghoon continues palming himself as he soothes you through your frustrations. “Your boss isn’t praising you.” 
You pause, feeling a ping in your gut. 
“If I were him, I’d praise you every day–” Sunghoon softens his voice. “Every night.”
“Oh…” You listen to his words, feeling your frustration melt out of you in an instant as you now focus on the way his cock twitches through the screen. 
“Wouldn’t let you go a second without thinking of how good I am to you.” He continues, both hyping himself and degrading his day-time self. “If I were your boss–”
You interrupt his words with a very quiet groan, he fucking heard it.
“Mm, you like that?” He smiles to himself, gripping the base of his cock and thrusting up to show the full size to you. “The thought of your boss liking you a little too much?”
You hum. Not that you’ve ever thought about it too deeply, but now that he’s said it, praising you, putting down your actual boss, telling you what he’d do if he were him? 
You guess, for tonight anyway, you’re into it. 
“What’s his name, babe?” Sunghoon asks, wondering if you’ll actually out his name to a stranger. 
“Park Sunghoon.” You expose him instantly, full name and all, even with a bit of bite in your voice. 
Damn.
“Oh, yeah?” Sunghoon draws back, jerking his hand up once. “I’d fuck you better than Park Sunghoon.” 
You smile at the thought, imagining yourself with more power than Sunghoon has. Like you’re his boss, you’re the one dangling a promotion just out of reach before giving it to someone else. 
“See this?” The man on the screen grunts out to you, fucking tight thrusts into his fist. “Watch me, baby, get a good look.”
And you do watch. Intensely, you stare at his big cock, the head of it darkened and leaking with each pass of his hand. You’re not even touching yourself at this point, but it’s like you can feel the force of it.
“Now, I need you to open those legs for me.” He instructs you. 
You do as he says much like before, letting your legs fall open but not yet letting yourself touch. You still sigh at the movement, your panties alone shifting were enough to make you want to hump your hips up. 
“Now, turn on your camera.”
Silence. Your ears ring momentarily at the words as you immediately close your legs.
“What?” You ask in a higher-pitched tone than usual. “I requested for no c-”
“No.” Sunghoon mutters, shifting his position to lean towards the microphone and whispering now. “You do as I say.” 
He hears you huff at his words, but he hears the shifting around on your end. 
“I want to see that pussy open for me.” He continues in that same low-rumbled voice. “I want to see what Park Sunghoon is missing out on.”
You don’t know what it is about this situation that turns your discomfort into pure, rushing arousal. Never in your life have you ever considered fucking yourself on camera, especially after paying someone else to do it for you, yet– 
“Do I have to show you my face?” You ask quietly, already trying to find a lower-face-mask just to be safe in case you lose your composure and accidentally reveal yourself. 
“No,” Sunghoon assures you through a deep breath. “I already told you what I want to see.”
More silence save for the shuffling he still hears on your end. 
“Open your legs and turn it on.” He encourages you now, keeping his hand still on himself as he waits to see if you’ll actually do it.
And…
Oh fuck.
“There she is.” Sunghoon hums, trying to keep his composure at the way you give him access. Honestly, he didn’t think you would, but you do, and all he can do is lay himself back again, staring straight at the image of you. 
Your face is out of frame much like he is but this is the first time he’s ever seen you with so little clothing on. No bra, thin tank top, no shorts or pants, just panties. It takes everything in him not to moan out at the image. 
After all, it’s confirmed to be you. 
Fuck, that’s you right there. 
“Already so wet too?” Sunghoon groans now, focusing on that spot between your legs, probably so slippery and warm. 
You’re very shy though, not moving much better yet speaking as this faceless man takes in your image. You feel awkward, but still turned on despite squeezing your legs together and hiding that spot from him. 
“Oh, baby–” Sunghoon coos out in a way that makes it seem as though he was endeared by that. “That’s not going to work.”
You’re more focused on your embarrassment than you are on the way his cock leaks and pours pre-cum at the image he’s witnessing. 
“How am I supposed to show you how much better I’d take care of you?” He continues, reverting back to the same role play from before. “I bet that boss of yours wouldn’t want to bury his tongue in you like I would.”
Your legs fall open at the words, and he can see the way you thrust up just slightly. 
“That’s it, you need someone to touch you, don’t you?” He continues, watching you intensely. “Need someone to lick that pretty pussy?”
You nod, once again forgetting that he can’t see you do it before you finally speak.
“Please.”
His moan after hearing you seems far more intense than the first time you did this with him. In fact, he appears entirely focused on you. Role playing in some way but somehow acting more real than last time too. 
“You deserve some love for all that hard work.” He says to you, encouraging you to keep talking for him. “Play with yourself, go on. You need it.”
You follow his instructions on instinct, as if your body truly does need the release. 
“Feel it– not too hard, just graze over your panties.”
Ah, still you listen, holding your breath at each feather-light touch you give to yourself per his request. 
And he watches. Hyper-focused on the way that darkened spot on your panties grows bigger and bigger. So wet for him doing exactly what he wishes he could do for you come tomorrow morning. 
“Your other hand babe, slowly, lift your shirt and–”
He doesn’t even have to keep instructing you. You do exactly as he wanted, lifting your shirt gently before playing with your own nipples, still lightly grazing your fingers over your swollen clit that’s restricted by your panties. 
You moan quietly at the feeling, wishing so much that it doesn’t have to be your hands doing this. 
“That feels good, doesn’t it?” Sunghoon hums, now working his palm against his own length, gentle, barely grazing it. “Now, look at me.”
You draw your eyes forward, the image of him already arousing from before, but now? Why is he so much hotter now? As if the screen is nothing but a window into his bedroom. 
“You see how hard I am right now?” You can hear the smile in his voice as you continue to work yourself up to near-sensitivity. “Never been this hard for anyone else.”
Oh, that’s bullshit. He does this as a job. He’s just sweet talking to you for sure. 
“Been thinking about you since the first time you booked me.” He continues, keeping the touches light and making sure you don’t press on yourself too hard either. “Was hard all week for you.”
Okay, yeah, maybe you are a little too into praise. Lie or not, it’s exactly what you need to hear right now. 
“You're gonna be just as good for me tonight too?” Sunghoon hums, tightening his grip. “You’re going to push your panties to the side and show me that you missed me too, right?” 
Yes. The light touching has been nothing but torture at this point, wanting so badly to be told to do more. For yourself, for him. 
You barely recognize how your embarrassment leaves your body when you stretch your panties to the side, letting him see how they stuck to you only to unfold in a glistening mess for him. 
“Messy, messy, messy.” Sunghoon moans, struggling so hard by now not to fuck his fist straight to orgasm. But no, he can’t ruin this moment. 
That’s your pussy, looking so wet and tight, so needy. 
“Gently still, open up for me.” Sunghoon groans lowly, watching so closely the way you spread open your lips for him, the hole pulsing and dribbling so much slick. 
Never in his life has he ever wanted to bury his tongue into someone this badly. Goddamn, he’s nearly obsessed with you at this moment. He loses composure.
“Fuck–” He seethes, feeling his cock twitch wildly against his hand. “I want you so bad.”
Those words feel more real to you than anything else. Virtual sex is one thing but to have a man blatantly moan those words to you as if he means them? As if he has never let it slip for any of his other scheduled calls?
“What’s the name of your boss again?” Sunghoon asks, pretending as if he forgot, just to hear you say it. 
He notes the way your pussy clenches through his words too, as if he can see the confusion not through your expression, but through your arousal alone. Asking you that turned you off.
“What’s his name, baby?” Sunghoon presses, offering an excuse. “I wanna know who it is that gave me this tonight.”
Alluding to the fact that the only reason you’re paying him is because your boss made you feel like you need release in some way. 
“Park-” You start, not wanting to deny his demands. “Sunghoon.”
“Ah, yeah.” Sunghoon holds his breath, closing his eyes briefly just to let that breathy voice sit in his mind before focusing back on you. “Two fingers babe, slide them in.”
God, you listen just as well as you do at work. He should have given you that promotion the day he saw your application. Even without seeing you do as you're told in this situation, he already knew you were going to be getting that interview next week.
He listens to the way your cunt swallows up your fingers, so wet and needy. Swollen around the two digits as you slide them in with a breathy sigh. 
“Spread your fingers, open up.” 
You do, presenting your opened core to him without any shame at this point. Allowing him to look, wanting him to look.
“Now, say–” Sunghoon swallows around a lump in his throat. “Thank you Sunghoon.”
Your pussy pulses around your fingers, recoiling again at the name. 
“Say, Thank you Sunghoon, for all of this stress.” 
He continues, trying to encourage, adding another lie of an excuse just to get you to break. 
“Because, if it weren't for him, I wouldn’t be needing to take care of you like this, now would I?”
In your horny brain, it makes sense.
“Thank you, Sunghoon.” You moan, plunging your fingers into yourself without being told to do so, moaning out for the faceless man on the screen at your break in composure. 
And, well, Sunghoon himself is on fire. After all, you’ve only ever referred to him as Mr.Park, and hearing you practically moan his name in such an intimate way? It does nothing to keep him from spiraling into an even more selfish mindset. 
“Again.” He instructs you, watching the way your legs shake through saying his name. 
“Thank you Sunghoon.” You continue, as if the words are natural despite feeling intense irritation for the man. “Thank you.”
And, well, that very name you’re moaning is now also moaning. That little fake name you gave to him falls from his lips after you say it each time, fucking into his fist and hoping you’re watching, nearly unable to ask you to stick another finger into yourself.
Not needing to ask at all, apparently, because you do it yourself. You even bump your clit up against your wrist too. 
Shit. 
He needs you.
“Thank him for what?” Sunghoon starts to ask, feeling an orgasm approach far too quickly. 
“For making me come to you!” You answer him as if you’re frustrated, hips bouncing up against your hand just to dig your fingers in deeper. 
“What else?” He asks now, forgetting what it is he should not be doing. 
“Hmm?” You answer in a drawn-out moan.
“Thank him for what else?” He repeats first, only to follow up with his own answer. “For giving you a reason to cum.”
“Yes!” You groan, now grinding your hips up and against your palm without relaxing back against the bed. Intentionally chasing as your eyes remain on him, watching him pull and tug so roughly. 
“So fucking pretty” Sunghoon praises as he snaps his hips in time with his moving palm, eyes so tuned into you that– “Fuck–” He moans your name. “So pretty.”
And he didn’t realize it. Half expecting you to moan back for him, he’s still moaning as he watches you halt what you’re doing and cover yourself entirely.
“What did you just call me?” You ask in an out of breath voice. 
Sunghoon repeats your fake name to you, feeling the energy shift in an instant.
“No. You just called me–” You repeat your real name to him. 
“Ah, sorry babe, must’ve gotten tongue tied.”
There’s a rush of anxiety within you as you stare at the screen. There’s….no fucking way. 
Given, you’ve never seen him outside of a suit. The voice you hear doesn’t click in your head as Sunghoon’s either, considering he’s never a man of very many words. 
Instantly, you’re covering your camera with your hand, watching how the man on the screen spreads his legs out and drops his cock. Like he’s waiting, like he’s listening, wondering. Are you making a fool of yourself right now?
Are you misreading? 
He seems calm, and if it really is Sunghoon…surely he’d be disconnecting right now, right?
Why would he even be fucking himself on camera anyway? The guy makes bank! You’re the one who sees his paychecks, after all. Still, there’s a twisting in your gut as you ignore the way you still drip against your sheets. 
Very quietly, just to see, you work up the courage.
“Mr.Park?”
It’s silent for a few seconds as the man on the screen shifts, a blur of movement forcing you into a state of motion-sickness. 
You almost thought he was going to chuckle at you and ask if you were thinking about your boss rather than him. You almost thought he would use that to his advantage. 
You almost thought you were wrong, but– he disconnects. 
A few moments later, you receive an email with a refund of your five hundred dollars. 
And two hours later? Lying in your bed with anxiety in your gut, you get a text from none other than Park Sunghoon.
Mr.Park: Can we talk?
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
― part two here!
3K notes · View notes
joelsgreys · 8 months
Text
strawberry
Daddy Dom! Joel Miller x Sub! Female Reader
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summary: You feel ashamed for using your safe word with Joel during a session—he assures you you’re his good girl no matter what.
warnings/tags: 18+ only, MINORS DNI. (TW) daddy kink, lots of dd/lg lifestyle elements, reader is collared (day collar) age gap that is self indulgent, reader is mid to late 20’s and Joel is in his 50’s but tweak that to your imaginations if you like. SMUT; p in v sex, rough sex (that reader asks to try), spanking, possible overstimulation (if you squint??) Joel basically fucks reader too much and too hard. USE OF SAFE WORD. aftercare and lots of fluff, references to a pop culture film that i haven’t seen in forever but it’s fine. PLEASE BE MINDFUL OF TAGS AND WARNINGS. if this isn’t your thing, no worries just scroll on by.
MOODBOARD FOR AESTHETIC PURPOSES ONLY, READER HAS NO PHYSICAL DESCRIPTION.
word count: 2.4k
a/n: this is totally self indulgent, all for me as someone who has dabbled in the lifestyle before. if this is not your thing, no problem at all but kindly keep any negative comments to yourself. huge shoutout to the lovely @swiftispunk for inspiring this with the snippets of her own upcoming series that i am oh so excited for, darling han thank you for not only inspiring this, but for listening to me talk about it and encouraging it! and also to sweet mya @cavillscurls because truth be told her own fic brought back so many memories of a time in my life where i was genuinely so happy, in love, and felt safe with a partner. okay, i am gonna run away to the gym now to listen to 1989 tv (again) and pretend posting this is not nerve wracking as hell.
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He’s fucked you plenty of times before.
But never like this. No, never, ever like this.
He’s relentless.
His thrusts are coming quicker, sloppier, harsher.
It doesn’t hurt, but it’s intense. Too intense.
Joel Miller is truly testing your limits tonight.
No, he was pushing you past your limits.
Because that’s what you’d asked him to do.
“Alright, sweet girl. This is the last time I’m gonna ask you before we get started. Are you absolutely, one hundred—no, one thousand percent sure that you wanna try this out tonight?” he had asked you beforehand, skimming the strap of your light pink, lace lingerie with his index finger, his feathery soft touch sending a plesant little chill down the length of your spinal column. Of all the sets you owned, it had to be Joel’s absolute favorite. Normally, it was him who would pick out what you would wear, but tonight he’d decided to let you choose for yourself and oh, you did not disappoint. He fucking adored you in the color pink; loved how sickeningly sweet, precious, and innocent you appeared in the hue as you did the filthiest things to him, with him. When you nodded eagerly in reply to his question, a sigh fell from his lips, the doubt written all over his face as he remarked, “I really don’t think you’re ready. I think we should wait just a little a while longer.”
“I’m ready,” you’d insisted, stubbornly. “I promise. I wouldn’t be asking for it if I thought I wasn’t. But I am, I promise, promise, promise I am.”
“Daddy knows what’s best for you, sweetheart—”
Fingers curled around his bicep, you’d batted your eyelashes, giving him those eyes that brought him down to his knees for you a lot more often than he cared to admit, those eyes that made Joel feel like he was learning his role all over again, despite over two decades of experience under his belt. He used to pride himself for his ability to stand firm against pouting lips, fluttering lashes, and pleading gazes. And then you come along and suddenly it’s like he is in his thirties again and he’s navigating this kind of dynamic for the first time. Even after a year and a half with you, he’s still trying to figure out how to completely unwrap himself from your little finger.
“Please? Pretty please with a cherry on top?”
Christ, you made things so goddamn difficult.
“You really think you’re gonna be able to handle it? You think you’re gonna be able to handle me when I get real rough with you, baby? Hm?”
Without missing a beat, you replied, “Yes, Daddy. I can handle it. I know I can.”
You had been so certain that you could.
Confident, even. So confident that when he began going over the rules and reminded you to use your safe word if you needed him to stop, you’d giggled and stated, “I’ve never needed to use it before and I don’t plan on using it tonight.”
Oh, how very wrong you had been about it all.
You’d overestimated yourself, and underestimated Joel. Severely.
His hips snap roughly into yours without an ounce of mercy, over and over, again and again. Beads of perspiration start trailing their way down the sides of his face, the tip of his nose. His chest is flushed, red, and also slicked with a thin sheen of sweat.
You’ve already shattered, unraveled, come undone all over his cock several times—every time with his granted permission, of course. Because you knew better than to come without Daddy’s permission.
Your cunt is swollen, sensitive, too sensitive and at a point where it could start aching if he doesn’t let up soon. However, it seems like Joel’s only getting rougher and rougher as he chases another release.
“Joel—Daddy,” you manage to correct yourself at the very last second through a slew of frantic little gasps for air. “Daddy, please! Daddy please—”
His large hand tightens around both of your wrists pinned to the mattress above your head. Surely he must think you’re begging him for more, when the reality is you’re about to start begging him to stop because it’s just too much and you can’t handle it; but there’s a part of you that doesn’t want to stop, the part of you that doesn’t want to disappoint the man who means the whole, entire world to you.
The man you belonged to, the man you loved.
Even through the haze, you try telling yourself that it’s all mind over matter, mind over matter, mind—
“Stop,” you whine, squirming underneath him. “I—can’t take it anymore, Daddy, I can’t take it—!”
Releasing your wrists, Joel pulls himself out of you and you breathe out in relief, until he flips you over onto your stomach without warning. You let out an audibly loud gasp when his hands reach down and take your hips, pulling them up off his bed, putting you on your hands and knees. He brings down one of his hands on your ass in a stinging slap. “That is just too bad, ‘cause Daddy ain’t done with you yet, darlin’ girl. Not even close to bein’ done with you.” Wrapping his other hand around his base, he grins to himself as he glides the head of his cock up and down your slick folds. When it grazes your clit, you jerk forward, away from him, and he tuts, bringing you back to him, his fingers digging into the pillow soft flesh of your hips. “Oh no baby, you ain’t goin’ anywhere.”
“But Daddy, I just can’t—”
You’re cut off by your own cry when you feel Joel’s length stretching your walls all over again. It’s just too much.
And you really, really can’t.
He leans over you and presses his lips to your ear. “You asked for this, didn’tcha? Asked to be fucked like a big girl, huh?” He bucks forward into you, eliciting another strangled cry followed by a string of pathetic whimpers. Bringing his palm down in a second strike, he demands, “Answer me when I’m takin’ to you. You wanted this, said that you could handle Daddy bein’ rough with you, ain’t that right now?”
“Strawberry.” You say the word so quietly, you can hardly hear it over the ringing in your ears.
Joel spanks you for a third time, in the exact same spot—so hard, there was simply no way you would wake up without a mark in the morning. “I need’ya to speak up. You’re such a big girl after all—”
“Strawberry!” You grasp fistfuls of bedsheets and the signal for it all to end tears itself from the back of your throat. “Strawberry, Joel! Strawberry!”
It’s only a millisecond that he freezes, if that.
“Fuckin’ hell,” Joel curses under his breath, pulling out of you. The bed shifts as he climbs off of it and scrambles to pull on his sweatpants before he’s at your side—you’re still on your hands and knees, an unmistakable look of panic on your face. He puts a gentle hand on your back. “Baby, are you alright?”
Your heart is pounding, your breathing labored but you manage a small, tight nod of your head. “I-I’m fine. I just—” Stopping, you grip the sheets tighter, warm tears brimming your eyes. Shame over what you’ve just done is already creeping in and sinking into your bones.
“Are you hurt, sweetheart? Did I hurt you?”
Joel’s voice is calm, but you can hear the concern that laces his tone.
“No.” Your own voice is small. “No. You didn’t hurt me.”
“Is it alright if I move you?” he asks. When you nod your head, he reaches out for you and helps you to sit on the side of the bed. Dropping to his knees in front of you, he takes your hands and his and feels his stomach sink when he realizes they’re ice cold; he begins rubbing them between his own to warm them up. “Baby if I hurt you, you need to tell m—”
“I promise, you didn’t hurt me,” you reassure him, swallowing the thickness rising in the back of your throat. You clock the skepticism in his dark brown eyes and a tear slips out, rolls down your face, and splatters onto your bare thigh. “I’m not lying, Joel. I swear.” Tugging one of your hands out of his, you reach up and instinctively clasp it around the blue sapphire pendant hanging from the delicate, gold chain around your neck—he’d presented you with his birthstone last year, not only as a symbol of his ownership of you, but also as a beautiful reminder of your commitment to one another. “You believe me, don’t you? You believe I’m telling the truth?”
Joel’s expression softens. “‘Course I do, baby.” He cups the side of your face gently, brushing away a second teardrop with his thumb. “But I’d really like to know what happened so I can figure out how to best help, okay? Can you tell me what happened?”
Embarrassed, you try turning your head away, but he holds your cheek in his hand, gentle but firm.
“S’okay. You can talk to me,” he encourages softly, his gaze meeting yours once again. “Tell me.”
“It was just too much,” you mumble, meekly. “And too intense.” Heat floods your face as you admit to him, “You were right. I just wasn’t—I wasn’t ready for that yet.”
In an effort to lighten your mood, Joel lightly gives your cheek a delicate pinch and chuckles.
“Daddy’s got that real annoyin’ habit of bein’ right ‘bout a lot of things, don’t he?”
“I’m sorry.” Your bottom lip quivers. “I’m so sorry.”
His smile falters. “Sorry for what?”
“For using the safe word—”
Joel’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise. “Y’know you ain’t supposed to apologize for needin’ to use your safe word, right? That ain’t how it works, darlin’.”
Dropping your necklace, you place your hand over his on your cheek. “But I feel bad,” you confess. “It makes me feel like—like I let you down, you know? And that’s the last thing I want to do. I just wanted to be really good for you.”
“Oh baby.” Joel lifts himself from the floor. He sits on the bed and pulls you onto his lap, brushing his lips against your temple. “You are such a good girl for me, sweetheart.”
“But I couldn’t take it,” you sniff. “I had to stop.”
“And that’s okay,” he assures you. He wraps you in his arms and gives your body a gentle squeeze. “It ain’t nothin’ to be ashamed ‘bout. You’re still really new to a lot of this stuff, y’know? S’why I told you I didn’t think you were ready.”
“I should’ve listened to you.”
He winks. “You should always listen to Daddy.”
You offer him a tiny, watery smile. “I know.”
“And say we try this again one day and it’s just not somethin’ you like or that makes you feel good—or maybe you never wanna try it again at all,” he says with a nonchalant shrug. “That’s okay too. You are still my good girl no matter what—my perfect girl. Always. You understand me?”
“Really? You promise?”
Joel holds up his pinky.
“Oh, you’re being really serious,” you tease him.
“Sure as hell am, darlin’.”
You lock your finger around his and he pulls you in for a sweet kiss.
“I love you, Joel,” you murmur against his lips. You giggle again when he clears his throat and smacks your ass lightly, playfully. “I love you, Daddy.”
“I love you too, baby.” Joel pulls away and touches the tip of his nose to yours. “How’s ‘bout we get in the bath and get all cleaned up? Hm?”
“A bath?” You instantly perk up. “With bubbles?”
“With bubbles. And I’ll even let you throw in one of those smelly ball things you fuckin’ love so much.”
You swat at his chest. “Hey! My bath bombs smell really good, thank you very much!”
Joel doesn’t particularly like emerging from a bath smelling like a petunia, but for you, he’s more than happy to bathe in a sea of them, glitter and all.
You trace his collarbone with your index finger.
“Daddy? After our bath can we just cuddle in bed? Maybe watch a movie?” He raises an eyebrow and you smile sheepishly, adding, “Please?”
“‘Course. Pick any movie you want, sweetheart.”
“And can we have ice cream while we watch too?”
He pins you with a stern look. “Alright, now you’re just pushin’ it and takin’ advantage.”
You jut your lower lip. “Please, Daddy?”
There’s no arguing with that, not tonight.
Joel decides to let you have your way. “Alright.”
The two of you spend quite some time in the bath; normally a bath together ends with him inside you all over again, but tonight, all he’s doing is running a soapy wash cloth with your favorite shower gel—japanese cherry blossom—all over your body as he sits behind you, lips pressed against your ear. Joel washes you slowly, carefully, and all the while he’s whispering sweet, tender praise.
My good girl.
My perfect girl.
I’m s’proud of you.
I’m the luckiest man in the whole world.
After the bath, once you’re both dried and dressed in comfortable clothes—him in a clean pair of gray sweatpants and you in nothing but his t-shirt, Joel gives you the remote and instructs you to pick out a movie to watch.
“Make yourself real comfortable, baby,” he says to you, kissing the top of your head. “I’ll be back with that ice cream.”
You shoot him a hopeful glance. “Strawberry?”
“You tryin’ to be funny with me, darlin’?”
“No! That’s just my favorite flavor, silly.”
Joel grins to himself as he leaves the bedroom.
He knows that. Of course he knows that.
It’s why he always keeps a pint of it in his freezer.
You hop into bed and pull the blankets around you as your scan through the guide for a movie—you’d just decided on The Notebook when Joel appears again, a bowl and two spoons in his hands.
“You picked The Notebook again, didn’t you?” he asks without even looking at the flat screen that’s mounted on his wall over the fireplace.
“You said I could pick any movie I wanted.”
“Was just hopin’ you’d pick one we haven’t seen a thousand times,” he chuckled, sliding into his bed next to you. Joel places the bowl of strawberry ice cream in his lap and hands you a spoon. “C’mere, my sweet girl. Come closer.”
You snuggle up to him, and the two of you dig into the frozen dessert as the movie begins to play.
“Baby?” Joel speaks after a while, just as Allie and Noah share a passionate kiss in the pouring rain.
“Hm?” you ask, your fixed eyes on the flat screen, your mouth full of ice cream.
“You sure you’re okay?”
Swallowing, you look up at Joel, meeting his gaze.
“Yeah, I’m okay,” you answer honestly.
“‘Cause if there’s anythin’ else I can do for you…”
You purse your lips together and let out a tiny hum as you mull it over for a moment.
“You can hold me closer?” you finally suggest.
Joel shifts in his spot. “I can definitely do that—”
You stop him and point to the empty bowl.
“After you go and get us some more ice cream?”
He exhales an amused snort through his nose and shuffles out of bed, taking the bowl with him.
“Don’t get so used to bossin’ Daddy around,” Joel warns you playfully over his shoulder.
“Too late.”
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divider credit to @saradika 🍓
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cleo-fox · 8 months
Text
Overtime
Summary: Sometimes, working overtime isn’t all that bad.
Pairings: Loki x Female Reader
Warnings: Smut, 18+ minors DNI, sex, cunnilingus, teasing, light bondage, office romance.
Series: Overtime (I don't have a masterlist for this, but if you enjoy these idiots, check out Daylight, a sort of sequel).
A/N: This was largely written prior to season 2 and posted right before episode 4, so it’s not entirely canon compliant and the parts that are may be compliant by accident.
Also, @give-me-a-moose and I were on a similar wavelength about Loki angrily reading romance novels and I would strongly recommend checking out her fic The Imagine Nation if you too are enthralled by this idea.
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You don’t think that Mobius intended to keep Loki’s desk behind yours.
“It’s temporary,” he tells you apologetically. “He just needs somewhere to go for now, until I figure out what to do with him.”
“You’re talking about him like he’s a stray cat that you found,” you say.
“You won’t even know he’s there, I promise.”
“You’re still doing it.”
Mobius sighs and puts on his most sincere, earnest expression—the one that he always uses when he’s about to ask you for a stupidly massive favor.
And it’s only because you almost never, ever see this look from him that you back down.
“Okay, fine,” you say. “But he’d better be on his best behavior.”
Mobius puts his palms together and tips them toward you. “Thank you. You will not regret this, I promise.”
You sigh and shake your head. “Just remember this next time you’re budgeting for raises.”
But then—in a move that you certainly don’t expect—Loki ends up sticking around. And, in the subtle way that the stray you’ve been feeding slowly turns into your cat, Loki’s temporary desk becomes his permanent desk. And strangely enough, Mobius’ assurances turn out to be more correct than not: Loki does a lot of fieldwork and is often away; when he is at his desk, it tends to be because he is working on more complicated missions, the ones that require poring over mountains of files looking for patterns and trying to untangle the slippery mess of time itself.
Your work is decidedly less glamorous than Loki’s—almost no fieldwork, lots of files. Endless files. Some days you feel as though you must have seen every file in the TVA’s extensive library and then you’re immediately proven wrong by another wing of filing cabinets that you swear wasn’t even there before.
Although he is generally well-behaved as your desk neighbor, Loki’s presence has a way of distracting you. Even if you didn’t know who he was, your gaze would still naturally drift his way, lingering on those regal cheekbones, that ink black hair, that cunning smirk. The way that the fabric of his dress pants clings to his thighs certainly doesn’t help, to say nothing of how his forearms look with his shirtsleeves rolled up. He can make your heart start to race with no more than a casual glance in your direction and god help you if he gives you one of those devastating smiles. Luckily, you don’t think he takes that much notice of you. You have the sort of pleasantly dull exchanges of coworkers who don’t really know each other and he is almost painfully polite to you. It’s a strong departure from the way he interacts with others—with others, he is bold, charming, sarcastic, talkative, a far cry from the more subdued, almost courtly tone he strikes with you. It’s a difference that is so stark that you can’t help but attribute it to some sort of negative feeling on his end.
“How’s it going with Loki?” Mobius asks you during a one-on-one meeting a couple of months after Loki’s temporary desk becomes his permanent desk. “He’s behaving himself, right?”
“It’s been fine,” you say, “though truthfully, I don’t think he likes me all that much.”
“What? Of course he likes you,” Mobius says. “Why wouldn’t he like you? You’re lovely.”
You shrug. “I dunno, he’s just different with me than he is with everyone else. Like…overly polite. It’s like he thinks I’m going to send him to the principal’s office or something.”
“Let me get this straight,” says Mobius. “First you were worried that he wouldn’t behave himself and now you’re worried that he’s too well-behaved?”
Privately, you realize he has a point. Outwardly, though, you’re not going to admit it. The sardonic tilt of Mobius’ mouth suggests that he knows this.
“No, I just…I don’t think he likes me all that much,” you say. “And he’s entitled to that. People don’t like each other all the time, it’s not a big deal.”
This is also a little bit of a lie—you do wish he liked you. Loki is so magnetic it’s hard not to want his attention. And with the matter of your silly little crush, well…that doesn’t help either.
Mobius sighs. “I think you’re overthinking this. He likes you, sometimes it just takes him a little time to warm up. He’s a bit of a prickly guy.”
You bite down the urge to point out that you’ve seen him warm to other people almost immediately. This conversation has already gone on longer than you want and you are edging dangerously close to having to admit that you care so much because you have a big stupid crush on him, which is obviously unacceptable.
“Well, the point is that it’s fine,” you say quickly, trying to project an aura of cool confidence. “I don’t have any complaints, he seems like he’s settling in, so let’s move on. Did you have any feedback on my recent report?”
The furrow between Mobius’ eyebrows deepens just slightly, the only indication that he doesn’t fully believe you. But for whatever reason, he decides to let it go and follows your change in topic without further comment.
This is one of the reasons you like Mobius as much as you do: he always seems to know the right moment to push and the right moment to bend.
You’re not sure if your relationship with Loki would have changed had it not been for the problem of Charles Berlitz.
The joke around the office is that after Mobius convinced Loki to work for the TVA, he needed something new to obsess over and Charles Berlitz was the next best option. It’s hard to say exactly who Berlitz is, as he has a tendency of showing up, well…everywhere. He is quite literally in every timeline, at least as far as anyone can tell. Sometimes he is an author, penning serious, scholarly essays on outlandish theories like the Bermuda Triangle and the Philadelphia Experiment. He seems to have a fondness for all manner of schemes—he was responsible for introducing both homeopathy and multi-level marketing to no fewer than sixty different timelines. His ability to peddle bullshit naturally led him to politics—pick any rebellion, coup, or campaign on any given timeline and there’s a good chance you’ll also find Charles Berlitz.
Scammers and con artists are not atypical in your line of work, but what makes Charles Berlitz an enduring mystery is that he has never been found. You can have reputable documentary evidence that Berlitz was present at a certain time and location, but if you show up to investigate, he is never there. There have been some glimpses over the years—a shadowy face in the back of a crowd, the hem of a cloak disappearing behind a corner—but nothing concrete or substantive.
“Our ghost in the timeline,” Mobius had said in one of his more poetic moments at an all staff meeting, his voice overly hushed and dramatic. You had seen Loki roll his eyes and you had to fake a coughing fit to hide your laugh.
Time moves differently at the TVA, so it’s hard to say how long Mobius has been working on this case when he makes a breakthrough, but it’s not terribly long after your conversation about Loki. A campaign button had been found in an apartment that Berlitz rented for two years in the French Quarter. That particular campaign button could only have existed in one specific timeline and its distribution was limited. You aren’t entirely clear on all of the details, but Mobius seems to have a plan.
And unfortunately, that plan involves you giving up most of your weekend to work.
It’s near quitting time on what passes for a Friday at the TVA. Loki has been in today and you can hear him starting to pack up. Technically, he’s got twenty minutes of work left, but you’re not about to tell him that.
You doodle absently on your notepad. Technically, you’ve also got twenty minutes of work left, but realistically: nothing is happening.
“Oh, great, you’re both still here.”
In general, this phrase has never meant good news for you and when you look up, you see Mobius with a sizable armful of files.
Also not a great sign.
Mobius plunks the stack of files directly on your desk. “There’s been a development with Berlitz. I need you both to review these now.”
“It’s Friday,” says Loki, affronted. “Surely it can wait until Monday.”
“No can do. I need this done by Sunday at the latest,” says Mobius. “This is an all hands on deck situation.”
Loki glances pointedly at the office around you, which has already started emptying out for the weekend.
“All hands on deck, but most hands are already in the field,” Mobius concedes. “Which is why I need the two of you—” He points to you. “You because you’re good—” He gestures to Loki. “And you because you’ve got desk duty.”
“I beg your pardon—” begins Loki.
“He’s grounded,” Mobius says to you in an exaggerated stage whisper.
This is not surprising to you: you had heard a rumor last week about an incident that had occurred on a mission to the inauguration of Richard Nixon and you suspect that these two events are likely connected.
You look at the pile of paperwork on your desk. You could probably get through it on your own in a couple of hours, but if Loki’s helping, maybe you still have a shot at having Saturday to yourself. You bite back a sigh. “What do you need me to find?”
“Anything that mentions anyone from the Lucchese crime family or Nero Variant N2815,” says Mobius. “I’ll go get the rest.”
Your heart sinks. Farewell, Saturday. “There’s more?” you say.
“It’ll be triple overtime, I already got it approved!” he calls over his shoulder
You sigh and glance at Loki who is scowling at the pile of files as though they’d wronged him personally.
There’s a long moment of silence before you speak. “Is there any truth to the rumor I’ve been hearing about the Nixon inauguration?” you ask.
“If it involved a hot air balloon, then yes,” he says rather tonelessly.
“Well.” You pause as you stare at the pile of papers. “At least it was worth it.”
That at least earns you a hint of a smile.
*
Several hours later, your stomach is growling and you’ve developed a rather impressive crick in your neck.
You lean back in your chair, stretching your neck to the side and rubbing the knot that is pulsing in your upper trapezius. Office work has done nothing positive for your posture in general, but tonight’s work has you hunched over more than usual and your neck is aching.
You and Loki have made good progress, but your pile of finished and sorted files is scarcely comparable to the full cart that Mobius had brought in. Back when the evening was new and you weren’t quite so tired, you’d been optimistic about possibly having half a Saturday free from work; that hope has slipped away the longer the evening has dragged on. Now you’re hoping that you’ll still have a bit of Sunday to yourself and even that feels unlikely.
Your stomach growls again. You should probably eat something—you’d worked through your regular dinner hour in a fit of misplaced optimism. The cafeteria is closed this time of night, but there’s a vending machine not far from your office that has shitty coffee and mostly edible sandwiches.
You stand and stretch, stifling a yawn as you turn around. “I’m gonna grab a coffee and some dinner,” you say. “Do you want anything?”
Loki looks up at you from the file in front of him, blinking somewhat dazedly and running a hand through his messy curls. “I’d like to stretch my legs a bit, if you don’t mind the company.”
You honestly didn’t expect him to want to join you. It’s a pleasant surprise, certainly, but also a little nerve wracking in the way that interacting with Loki always is. He’s so handsome and aloof and you’re not quite sure how to talk to him without acting like a total fool.
But you’re also not about to say no, either.
“Of course,” you say, “I don’t mind at all.”
The TVA is unusually quiet at this time of night—the steady hum of fluorescent lights and the murmur of distant voices is all that accompanies the tap of your shoes on the linoleum. It only heightens the jittery, nervous feeling you get from Loki—like your stomach is filled with drunk, lightning struck butterflies.
“Are you finding much?” asks Loki as you enter the hallway together.
You shrug. “A bit. Mostly on the Nero variant. I’m not having as much luck with the Luccheses.”
“I’ve got all of their property transfers, I think,” he says. “Renato Lucchese never met a vineyard he didn’t like.”
“Or racehorses, from what I understand,” you say. “I think that’s how he lost most of his money.”
You arrive at the vending machines. Loki looks at the vending machines and then back at you, a somewhat puzzled and troubled expression on his face.
“This is what you meant when you said you were going to get coffee and dinner?”  he says.
You shrug. “Yeah, what’s wrong with this?”
He points at the coffee machine. “Mobius calls that machine Satan’s coffeemaker, does he not?”
“Yes, but I know how to trick it into giving me something that’s almost palatable,” you say.
Loki gives you a rather dry look. “Something that’s almost palatable?”
“I mean, I’m just trying to manage your expectations. It’s still pretty shitty coffee, it just tastes less burned.”
He looks at you for a long moment before tilting his head toward the hallway. “Come on, let’s go.”
It’s your turn to look skeptical. “What are we doing?”
“We’re going out for dinner.”
*
He takes you to a twenty-four hour diner called Frank’s that’s maybe a five minute walk from the TVA. It’s one of those places with yellowing Formica tables and big booths covered in red faux leather patched with the occasional square of duct tape. It smells like coffee and grease with a faint odor of cigarette smoke despite the prominent no smoking signs.
“I wouldn’t have thought this kind of place was your style,” you say as you sit down in a booth next to the window.
“I’ve expanded my horizons,” he says, sliding into the seat across from you.
An older woman with greying blonde hair approaches your booth. She wears a nametag reading “Connie” in big capital letters, a sticker of a pink cat stuck on the space next to her name.
“How y’all doin’ tonight?” she says as she hands you each a laminated menu. She looks at Loki. “You want your usual?”
“Please,” he says.
“You got it.” She turns to you. “How ‘bout you, hon, can I get ya started with something to drink?”
“Coffee would be great.”
“All right, I’ll be right back with your drinks.”
You raise your eyebrows at Loki as she walks away. “You eat at diners and you have a usual order. My expectations are being completely upended.”
He returns your pleasantly amused expression. “And you have vending machine coffee for dinner. It’s a revealing night.”
“I mean, I don’t actively seek it out,” you say. “It’s a convenient option that I exercise only when I have no other choice.”
“No other choice?” A sly smile curls at his lips. “Do you not have the entire array of space and time at your fingertips?”
“Well, first of all, we aren’t supposed to use TemPads for personal errands without a supervisor’s approval.”
“Technically.”
“No, actually. It’s in the personnel manual. Like verbatim.”
He raises an eyebrow. “You would put yourself through the egregious physical suffering of vending machine coffee simply to appease the capricious whims of our cruel overseer Miss Minutes?”
You bite back a laugh. “You know she’s not actually our boss, right?”
“I can’t discount that possibility. She wields a concerning amount of power within the organization.”
Connie is back with your drinks—coffee for you and tea for Loki. “Sunday Special?” she asks Loki as she sets a metal teapot and empty mug in front of him.
“Please,” he says.
“You got it.” She looks at you. “Didya get a chance to look at the menu or do you need a minute?”
You’re feeling a little daring. “I’ll try the Sunday Special as well.”
“All right, two Sunday Specials comin’ right up,” she says, collecting your menus.
“So, what’s in a Sunday Special?” you ask Loki as you take a sip of your coffee.
“Boiled fish eggs, mainly,” he says, pouring the hot water into his tea mug.
“Liar,” you say promptly.
He raises an eyebrow. “You didn’t even look at the menu, how could you know?”
“Places like this don’t serve fish eggs,” you say. “Way too unusual and definitely the wrong price point.”
“I suppose you’ll just have to see,” he says with a playful glint in his eyes. The easy charm that you’ve seen him use with the others is on full display and it’s enough to make you giddy. Maybe he doesn’t dislike you after all.
“Well, if it’s fish eggs, you’re picking up the bill,” you say, “and I’ll be getting something else instead.”
“You’d really hold me responsible for your impulsive dinner selections?”
“Yep. And I don’t even feel bad about it.”
He raises an eyebrow. “I didn’t realize you could be so unforgiving.”
“Well, you don’t know me all that well.”
“To be fair, you keep to yourself quite a bit.”
“A little bit,” you say. “But also to be fair, you haven’t really asked.”
“On work time?” he says, widening his eyes in mock horror. “That would mean write ups for both of us, I couldn’t let that happen.”
“I think I know enough about you to know that getting in trouble is not one of your primary concerns.”
He gives you a sly smile, like you’ve caught him out and he likes it. “That’s a diplomatic way to put it.” He takes a sugar packet from the dispenser on the table and tears it open before pouring it into his mug. “Well, we’re on break now, so you can safely tell me something about yourself.”
You drum your fingers on your coffee mug. “What do you want to know?”
“Well, this can’t be the only part of your life. Who are you outside the TVA? What did you do before this?”
That giddy feeling comes to a screeching halt and you take in a long, slow breath. It’s a simple question, one that most people can answer to some degree. For you, though, it’s a bit more complicated.
“Well,” you say. You take a sip of your coffee, mostly to give your hands something to do. “I don’t actually know—I chose not to remember when they gave me the option.”
You’re surprised by how gentle his eyes are when you look up. “My apologies,” he says, “I didn’t realize.”
“It’s okay,” you say and you really do mean it. “You couldn’t have known.”
Usually, you say something like this and then gently redirect the conversation, but something about the way he’s looking at you makes you want to continue. Like maybe he understands difficult things and doesn’t mind hearing about something that others would shy away from.
“When they told us everything and said they could fix our memories…” You clear your throat and focus your gaze just above his shoulder. “It’s weird, but I just had a feeling that it wouldn’t be good for me to know…that something really bad had happened. So I asked Mobius to check for me, just to be sure…” You swallow, blinking hard.
You remember how sad Mobius’ eyes were, how he’d gently placed a hand on your shoulder and said, “I think you’re making the right call, kid.”
“It’s not really okay, is it?” Loki says softly.
You shrug. “I mean, it’s…it is what it is.”
“You’re a terrible liar, you know.”
“It’s not a lie—”
He raises a skeptical eyebrow and you remember that he is, in fact, the god of lies.
“It’s more like…I can’t really miss what I don’t know, but at the same time, the reality of that absence hurts a little. So maybe not exactly okay, but not exactly not okay, either.”
There’s a lot of kindness in his gaze and you have to look away because it makes your head spin and your breath catch in your throat. “I’m not really sure if that makes sense,” you say.
“It does.”
There’s a silence between you, but it’s not uncomfortable.
“Do you…do you think you’d want to forget if you had that option?” You’re not entirely sure what prompts the question and you regret it almost as soon as it leaves your mouth. “I’m sorry, that’s probably too personal.”
He shakes his head and there’s a warmth in his eyes that you don’t expect. “I rather think I owe you one.” He pauses, running a finger around the rim of his mug. “Sometimes I do,” he says finally. “It can be quite painful remembering.” He worries his lip between his teeth. “But I’m not sure who I would be without the knowledge of my past, either.” His gaze flicks back to you. “What’s it like for you? Do you feel like you know who you are without those memories?”
It’s a good question—one you’ve never been asked. “I mean, it’s hard to say for sure. I think I do,” you say. “Sometimes I wonder if I was different in my timeline. Maybe I was kinder because I had different experiences that made me more empathetic. Maybe I wasn’t—maybe I was worse. Maybe I had a villain arc.”
He chuckles. “That doesn’t seem likely.”
“I dunno, maybe it explains the vending machine coffee and my fish egg related threats,” you say and you feel almost giddy when he returns your smile. “Or maybe I’m the same and all those experiences that shaped me are just scars I can’t see.” You shrug and take a sip of your coffee. “At the end of the day, though, that timeline is gone. I’m all that’s left. It’s sad, but it’s also freeing, in a way.”
He nods. “Mobius has said much the same.”
You smile slightly. “Our philosophies are similar, I suppose, though I think there are probably more bits of his past self in his present self than he realizes.”
Loki grins. “It’s the jet skis, isn’t it?”
“I mean, I just don’t think most normal people spend that much time expounding on the reliability of the Yamaha engine versus the pure, raw power of the Kawasaki.”
Loki holds up a finger. “But have you gotten the lecture about Yamaha’s braking system?”
“I think I have that memorized at this point.”
“‘The perfect choice for families.’”
“‘You just tap the brakes. Just tap them. Perfectly smooth stop every time.’”
“‘Reliability meets affordability.’”
“‘You can’t say no to that.’”
You think you probably could have riffed on this for a bit, but you’re interrupted by the arrival of Connie with your dinner.
The Sunday Special turns out to be a fairly traditional breakfast—eggs, hash browns, two fluffy pancakes, sausage, toast, a little bowl of strawberries.
“Definitely lots of fish eggs in this meal,” you say to Loki after Connie leaves.
His smile is small, but genuine. “You haven’t looked under the pancakes yet.”
You feel it then, but you don’t fully understand until later that this dinner has unlocked something important between the two of you. After months of awkward, stilted conversation, it’s like you finally understand how to talk to each other. And you’re surprised to find that even outside of your big stupid crush, you actually like Loki. You like his sly smiles and his dry humor and how easily the two of you fall into a routine of playful banter. You click in a way that surprises you, in a way that makes you mourn the lost potential of all those awkward, stilted months and feel giddy about the possibilities ahead.
Dinner is over too soon and you walk back to the TVA feeling revived from the coffee and the conversation. 
Disaster awaits you back at the office, though: you’d left a stack of the Nero variant files on your desk and evidently the construction was too precarious, as the entire pile had tipped off your desk and spilled to the floor, contents scattered everywhere.
“Fucking hell,” you sigh, running a hand through your hair. You’re not sure whether you want to laugh, cry, or scream. Possibly, it’s all three.
“Here.” Loki is bending down on the floor to gather the files. You studiously try to not ogle his ass or thighs. Or at least not obviously. “Clear off some space on your desk—I’ll help.”
Twenty minutes later, you’ve set up an entirely new system—Loki has dragged his chair over to your desk and the cart of unsorted files sits between you, like a surly metallic chaperone. And even later when you’ve sorted out all of the files from the floor, he remains parked at the end of your desk, a stack of new, unsorted files in front of him. Admittedly, it’s a lot more efficient for you to work like this: privately, though, it gives you a warm glow that has nothing to do with workplace efficiency.
“I’ve invented a new game,” he says some time later. 
“What’s that?”
“Every time either one of us finds documentation showing Renato Lucchese losing money on a racehorse he was told was not a good investment, I get to have a drink.”
You look up at him. “Look, I know you’re a god and everything, but I am pretty sure that will kill you.”
He sighs and tosses the file into the Lucchese pile. “I think it would add a little excitement to the evening, don’t you?”
You raise your eyebrows and look back at the file in front of you. “You mean this isn’t your idea of a fun Friday night?”
“My idea of a fun Friday night includes far fewer files and a lot more debauchery,” he says, taking a new file from the cart.
You glance at the clock. “Well, it’s only eleven. I don’t usually start body shots until after midnight.”
“What are body shots?”
For one horrifying moment, you think that you’re going to actually have to explain this to him, but then you get a good look at his expression.
He’s teasing you.
“You’re an ass,” you say, swatting him on the shoulder with the file you’re holding.
He wags a finger at you. “That’s workplace violence. I’m going to have to report that.”
You lean back in your chair and return to your file. “I’m pretty confident that you’ll be put off by the amount of paperwork that process requires.”
He shakes his head as he returns to his own file. “Uncontrolled bureaucracy is how bad actors escape accountability.” There’s a brief pause. “And…there’s another racehorse.”
You continue on like this for the rest of the evening, occasionally chatting and Loki proving definitively that the Renato Lucchese racehorse drinking game could not be played without resulting in a fatality. It’s nice, though. Yes, it’s sorting files and yes, it’s not the most intellectually riveting task you’ve ever done, but spending time with Loki is nice. It’s because of this that you find yourself trying to stay awake, pushing past your looming exhaustion.
But around two, you can’t quite fight the heaviness of your eyelids any longer and you doze off in the middle of a report on the sinking of the Lusitania.
“Hey.” Loki is gently shaking your shoulder. The way he says your name in that deliciously deep voice makes you want to swoon and you’re glad that you have the ready made excuse of sleepiness to explain any embarrassing behavior on your end.
“I think you’d better call it a night,” he says gently. “Get some sleep and come back with fresh eyes.”
“What about you?” you say. “Are you going to do the same, or are you just all talk?”
He smiles at you and it warms you to the very tips of your toes. You could bask in that smile like a cat in a sunbeam.
“I’m starting to fade a bit myself,” he says
“Very convenient,” you say and he grins at you.
“Come on, I’ll see you back home.”
Part of you wants to protest—there’s really no need for him to walk you home—but a larger, louder part of you wants to let it be, prolong the magic of tonight for just a little longer.
There’s a comfortable silence between the two of you as you walk out of the office together. 
“What time do you think you’re going to come in tomorrow?” he asks as you approach the residential wing. “It’s probably sensible to coordinate our efforts a bit.”
“Yeah, that’s a good point,” you say. “I was thinking nine, but that will be dependent on how much coffee I have.”
“Yes, about that,” he says. “I cannot stand idly by and watch you torture yourself with vending machine coffee.”
“Well, the cafeteria will be open, so I was going to torture myself with cafeteria coffee, which is at least thirty percent less over brewed.”
He clicks his tongue. “You’re not making a compelling case for yourself.”
“To be fair, it’s quite late and I’ve been staring at files for hours.”
“All the more reason to get decent coffee,” he says. “We’re going out for breakfast.”
You raise an eyebrow. “Oh, we are?”
“Consider it an intervention,” he says. “I’ll come collect you at eight.”
You’re not quite sure if this is just his natural confidence and swagger coming through or if he’s flirting with you and this counts as a date.
“Where are we going?”
“I know a place.”
*
The place in question turns out to be a food cart in Central Park in 1998.
“Should I even bother asking if you have supervisor approval for this?” you say, looking skeptically at the time door glimmering before you.
Loki scoffs. “I don’t have a supervisor.”
“You do. It’s Mobius.”
“That can’t be right, we’re peers.”
“You’re absolutely not. Did you read any of the onboarding materials?”
He ignores your question. “I don’t see why I’d even need a supervisor, honestly.”
You snort. “Need I remind you of what happened at the Nixon inauguration?”
He spreads his hands in front of him. “It’s not my fault that I’m the only one with a sense of humor.”
“I’m not entirely sure that was the problem,” you say. “Gerald Ford is never going to be the same, from what I understand.”
Loki waves a dismissive hand. “He’ll be fine, the tail isn’t permanent. Now, are you coming or not?”
You roll your eyes at him and make a halfhearted complaint about proper protocol, but you know that you’re walking through that time door and not looking back. You knew that before he even posed the question.
The food cart is owned by a man named Samir who has a wide smile and booming laugh. He talks to Loki like he’s a friend and he tells you that you have the prettiest eyes he’s ever seen. You are fairly certain he’s exaggerating, but you stuff a few extra bills into the tip jar anyway.
“I can’t believe you fell for that,” says Loki as you walk away, each carrying a coffee and a brown paper bag with a breakfast sandwich.
“Fell for what?” you say, batting your eyes at him. “I do have beautiful eyes.”
“I’ve heard him say that on at least thirty separate occasions.”
“Yeah, but this time he really meant it. I could tell.”
He rolls his eyes and leads you to a park bench overlooking a wide, grassy field. The leaves are just starting to change and the air has a little bit of a bite to it. 
You sit down on the bench and take a sip of your coffee.
“It is good coffee, I’ll give you that,” you say.
“See,” says Loki, “you can’t go back to that vending machine sludge after this.”
“I mean, if it’s eleven o’clock at night and I’m on a deadline, I can.”
“Darling. You have a TemPad.”
“Loki. Read the personnel manual.”
He wrinkles his nose. “It’s not really my genre.”
You roll your eyes and take out your breakfast sandwich. “What is your genre?”
He raises an eyebrow. “Is that a serious question?”
“Of course it is,” you say. “I love talking about books.”
He gives you a slight smile and takes a sip of his coffee. “A little bit of everything, honestly,” he says. “Philosophy. Magical theory. History. Politics. Anything from Asgard, really, though it can be a bit more challenging getting some of those titles.”
“I’ve had pretty good luck with the Library of the Sacred Timeline—have you checked there yet?”
He frowns. “I’m not familiar.”
“Oh, you’d like it—it’s on the eighteenth floor. It’s intended to be a collection of the greatest works of literature from as many branches of the timeline as possible,” you say. “It started as a research project, but people liked it and it just kind of evolved into this huge collection. They’ve actually got a pretty sizeable collection of books from Asgard.”
It’s like you’ve told him that his personal paradise had been located on the eighteenth floor this entire time. “Will you show me?”
He is practically vibrating with the sort of anticipatory, manic energy that you typically would associate with Christmas morning right before you tear into presents. It’s sweetly endearing.
“Of course.”
Ten minutes later, you’re leading him through the winding hallways on the eighteenth floor. You’re not surprised he hasn’t heard about the library—it’s a bit out of the way and the eighteenth floor is so poorly designed that it’s not terribly easy to find.
The design of the library is a sharp departure from the rest of the TVA. The shelves and floors are made of the kind of dark mahogany that you typically see in the kind of estates that look like something directly out of a Jane Austen novel. Worn oriental rugs muffle your footsteps on the creaky wood floors and the air smells faintly of dust and paper.
There’s a subtle change in Loki when you walk through the doors—almost like a muscle in his shoulders finally relaxes and he seems truly at home for the first time since he arrived.
You touch his hand. “This way.”
You lead him into the stacks, back to the far corner, right after the books from Alfheim.
“You can borrow whichever ones you like,” you say softly. “There’s a sign out sheet at the front desk.”
He nods, though you don’t think he really hears you—he only has eyes for the shelves, his gaze sweeping across the spines like they’re old friends. You’re about to excuse yourself to give him a little privacy when his brow furrows and he exhales sharply. “Oh, you can’t be serious.”
“What is it?”
They have the entirety of the finest Asgardian literature at their disposal. Untold centuries of the writings of our greatest minds—” he plucks a book off the shelf, “—and they choose to include this?”
The title looks fairly innocuous—a red, leather bound book with the title The Cloistered Heart embossed in gold script on the front. You take the book from him and open it. “What’s the problem with this?”
“It’s inconsequential fluff, literary pablum of the highest order.”
This is the Loki that you’re more familiar with and a smile curls at your lips. Almost on cue, you flip the book open to a chapter titled “The Wedding and Bedding of Aloisa.”
You bite back a laugh and look up at him. “It’s a romance novel.”
“Precisely my point,” he says. “To think that this is on the same shelf as Nielsen and Auber.”
“That’s kind of how libraries work,” you say, flipping further into the book. The phrases “throbbing length” and “eager moans” draw your eye and you have to tamp down another laugh. “Oh, and it’s a sexy romance novel.”
“It appeals to the lowest common denominator, yes.”
“What, so you’re too good for a bodice ripper?”
He scoffs. “I prefer to do the bodice ripping myself, not read some overwrought description of it.”
You are glad you’re looking at the book because you’re pretty sure you’d disintegrate if you had to make eye contact with him while he delivered that line. “Oh spare me,” you say lightly, snapping the book shut and drawing it to your chest. “I’m gonna read this.”
He blows out a puff of air. “It’s a waste of your time.”
“I’ve got lots of time, I can afford to waste it,” you say cheekily. “Besides, I’m curious to see what kind of book turns the god of mischief into a pearl clutching prude.”
Loki sputters. “Prude? Darling, let me assure you, I’m no prude—”
“I’ll leave you to browse,” you say with a grin as you turn away from him. “Come find me at the front when you’re ready to go.”
You’re a few chapters into the book when Loki rejoins you at the front of the library, a small stack of books tucked under his arm.
You close your book with a snap. “This book is a delight. I think your real issue is just that you’re no fun.”
He scoffs. “I’m very fun.”
“Could’ve fooled me.”
You bicker playfully back and forth as you check out your books and leave the library. A quick glance at your watch tells you that you spent much more time there than you’d planned. You can’t quite bring yourself to worry about that, though, not with the memory of Loki’s wonderstruck expression burning so bright in your mind.
There’s a bit of a lull in the conversation as you wait for the elevator.
“Thank you,” he says softly.
“For what?”
“For showing me that.”
“Of course. I’m sorry you didn’t know about it sooner.”
He looks at you, lips parting slightly like he’s about to say something. His tongue swipes briefly over his bottom lip and you would swear that his gaze drops to your mouth for just a second.
For just a second—one heady, slightly irrational second—you think he might be about to kiss you.
The ding of the elevator arriving breaks the spell, startling you just a little. You run a hand through your hair, trying to give off the impression of composure even as your heart beats wildly in your chest.
Loki gestures to the elevator doors. “After you.”
There is a group of analysts in the elevator already, chatting animatedly and completely obliterating any chance you may have had at recapturing that moment.
You try not to dwell too much in contemplating what ifs or timeline branches—often, it feels too much like work, something Mobius might assign you.
But you know that the possibility of that moment—what if the elevator had been a hair slower, what if those analysts had taken a different route, what if you were braver—you know that’s something that’s going to haunt you for a while.
*
You wouldn’t give up that time in the library for anything—it’s one of those moments that feels formative, something that you’ll return to again and again for one reason or another.
But it’s also true that it’s time that you probably could have used for sorting files and as Saturday ticks on, you can’t help but wish you had a way to pull another hour out of somewhere.
“We’re not going to be able to make this deadline, are we?” you say with a sigh.
It’s getting late into the evening and the cart of files still to be sorted still remains depressingly full, despite the fact that you’d brought both lunch and dinner back to your desk so you could continue working.
Loki eyes the remaining files. “I think we might. We made good progress today.”
You rub your eyes. “My brain feels like it’s about to leak out my ears.”
Loki takes the file you are working on and sets it back in the stack of unsorted files. “I think that might be a sign it’s time to turn in,” he says.
“There’s still so much left.”
“There’s still tomorrow.”
You reach for the file. “Well, let me just—”
He pulls your hand away from the pile. “You can come back to it in the morning. Besides, if you’re this tired, you’re not going to do good work anyway.”
He squeezes your hand and drops it. It’s brief enough to still be friendly, but unusual enough to make you wonder and send your mind racing back to that moment by the elevator.
You shake the thought away. It’s late and you’re tired.
You heave a world weary sigh and slump back in your chair. “I hate it when you’re right.”
To his credit, he only smirks a little. “Come on. I’ll walk you back.”
Once again, there’s no reason for him to do this, but once again, you’re inclined to let him.
You pack up for the evening and walk out of the office side by side. You’re trying very hard not to think about the fact that this is likely the last night that you’ll do this, that tomorrow the assignment will be over.
As you near the residential wing, you start to hear distant shouts. If you inhale deeply, you catch a very faint whiff of explosives—you’re not sure what kind.
“I think someone brought work home,” you say with a sigh. 
This happens from time to time—things get out of hand in the field or something happens when retrieving an asset or a target and all hell breaks loose at the TVA. Mobius had once referred to it as “bringing work home” and the name had stuck.
“Wasn’t there an incident in this wing not long ago?” asks Loki.
“Yes.” You sigh, running a hand through your hair. “I had to call off the next day—I got no sleep that night.” You listen carefully, trying to determine the source of the noise and the status of the problem. “But maybe it’s almost over,” you say with an optimism you don’t fully feel. “Sometimes these things are resolved really quick.”
Your heart continues to sink the closer you come to your home. The acrid burn of explosives only increases and you think you catch the low, dull roar of something not quite human.
And indeed, when you turn the final corner, you are immediately stopped by an electric blue barrier being monitored by a hunter. G-21–you’ve worked with her on a couple of missions before.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” slips out of your mouth before you can stop yourself.
“There’s an ongoing incident in this area,” says G-21 and you almost want to laugh because no shit. 
“How long do you think it’s gonna be closed off?” you ask.
She shrugs. “We’re at a code 54 right now, but it’s probably gonna escalate.”
With pitch perfect timing and before you can even try to remember what a code 54 means, there’s an almighty crash and a low bellow.
“Go!” she yells before running toward the commotion amid frantic calls for backup.
Loki is grabbing your wrist and pulling you into a run.
Your standard issue work shoes are comfortable enough on a day to day basis, but you certainly want to have words with whoever decided that leather soled shoes with absolutely no grips were a good choice for a building floored almost entirely in linoleum. In a low stakes situation, it’s meant occasionally you wipe out in the cafeteria and hurt nothing but your pride. In this situation, it means that Loki’s firm grip on your hand is the only thing keeping you upright.
But there’s a small mercy in that while you can still hear distant crashes and shrieks, whatever is happening down that hallway doesn’t seem to be following you and eventually, you both slow to a brisk walk and Loki drops your hand.
You haven’t even had a chance to consider where you are going to sleep tonight. You could probably curl up on that terrible couch in the office and just plan on getting up early enough to run back to your place for a quick shower and a change of clothes…assuming the incident resolves by then—
“You can stay with me,” says Loki, as though he can hear you trying to sort this out.
“Oh, that’s okay, I’ll just—”
“If you say you’re going to sleep on that terrible couch in the office, I will personally take you to the most boring governmental proceeding I can find and leave you there until you come to your senses.”
“Sounds like a great place to fall asleep,” you say.
His eyes glint, but his tone brooks no arguments. “You’re staying with me tonight.”
You sigh, but you can’t think of a counterpoint. “When did you get so bossy?”
“Darling, I’m a prince,” he says with a bit of a wry smirk. “It’s my birthright.”
Loki lives on the opposite end of the residential wing and his place looks quite a bit like yours—he’s got an extra window in the kitchen but the floor plan is otherwise the same. A lot of his furniture is standard issue, but there are little details that make it seem more personal: an area rug with a bit of fraying on the edges, a painting of what you think is an Asgardian landscape, a vase filled with dried flowers so delicate they look like they might disintegrate if you were to touch them. And books—so many books. Books on shelves, stacked on the coffee table, tucked into the little rack that you know is meant to hold magazines. Hardbacks, paperbacks, leather bound, dog-eared, well-worn and brand new. It’s no wonder he was so excited about the library.
“Have a seat,” he says, gesturing to the couch. “I’ll get some things for you.”
You sit down and he disappears down the hall. You idly examine the books stacked on the end table next to you. Many are quite clearly from Asgard and it sparks a pang of sympathy—it’s like his homesickness is on full display in his living room and there’s something sweet and sad about seeing that vulnerability laid so bare.
He returns a few minutes later with a pair of pajamas, a toothbrush, and a hand towel.
“Here,” he says, handing you the pile. “Bathroom’s just down the hall. I’ll make up a bed for you.”
“Thanks.”
In the bathroom, you realize that the pajamas he’s given you aren’t the standard set you can order from the TVA. These are made of a dark emerald silk that ripples over your skin like water, and somehow, that makes it feel a thousand times more personal than if he’d loaned you a standard set. They don’t fit quite right on you, but they’ll work well enough for tonight.
You brush your teeth and attempt to get through as much of your evening routine as you can before collecting your clothes and exiting the bathroom.
When you return to the living room, you expect to find that he’s made up a bed for you on the couch. These living units only have one bedroom—it would be quite reasonable to have you sleep on the couch.
You do not expect to find a pajama clad Loki stretched out reading on the couch, a blanket over his lap and his head propped up on a pillow like he intends to sleep there.
You exhale slowly. “Please tell me you are not giving up your bed.”
“Don’t be absurd, of course I am,” he says without even looking up from his book. “The point of this was to prevent you from sleeping on a couch, not simply put you on a couch in a different location.”
You wish you had something to throw at him. “You don’t even fit on that couch.”
“Luckily, my knees bend. Besides, you’re a guest,” he says, as though that settles it.
You roll your eyes and plunk yourself down in the armchair across from the couch, setting your pile of clothes on the floor. “I’m not moving until you give up the couch.”
He finally looks up from his book. “You’re really going to do this?”
You examine your fingernails, flicking away an invisible speck of dust. “I’m not the one being unreasonable. I’m simply meeting you at your level.”
“If you think that I’m being unreasonable and you’re also saying you’re meeting me at my level, does that not mean you are admitting that you are being unreasonable?”
“It’s nearly one o’clock in the morning. I’m not arguing semantics with you.”
“Fine.” His eyes glimmer as he sets his book down and slowly rises to his feet. “But you’re still not sleeping on the couch.”
“Oh, you’re going to be so disappointed when you realize how wrong you are,” you say. You think you see your opening and you try to play it cool.
He’s walking toward you, leaving your path to the couch wide open. In your head, you can see exactly how this works: you’ll spring from your chair and dart around the coffee table before diving onto the couch like a baseball player sliding into home plate, soundly defeating Loki. Easy peasy.
Instead, what happens is that you spring to your feet and Loki moves with inhuman speed, grabbing you around your waist and pinning you to the front of his chest, stopping you in your tracks almost immediately.
“I suppose I should have expected that,” he says. Your back is facing him, but you can almost hear the dry, sardonic look he’s giving you.
“Probably,” you say. “God of mischief and all.” You struggle fruitlessly against his iron grip. “You can let me go now.”
He laughs. “I’m afraid I can’t. It was clearly a mistake to trust you. I won’t be making that error again.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you say, trying again to squirm away from him. “Let me go.”
“The interesting thing about all of this is that you’ve made a rather substantial tactical error,” he says, continuing as though he can’t hear you.
“You’re bluffing,” you say with more confidence than you feel.
“Fascinating theory,” he says, “but I don’t think it’s going to work out for you.”
With that same ridiculous speed, he’s suddenly spinning you around and lifting you, tossing you easily over his shoulder.
“Hey!” you shout in protest.
“I warned you,” he says, his voice full of mirth as he carries you toward the bedroom.
This is not exactly how you’ve imagined being carried off to bed by Loki.
Though, admittedly, you do have a nice view of his ass.
“This is ridiculous,” you say.
“You brought this upon yourself.” He’s walking into the bedroom and a moment later, he’s lifting you from his shoulder and tossing you unceremoniously onto his bed.
You scramble to your feet and try to lunge toward the door, but he’s clearly expecting that. Before your feet even hit the floor, he catches you around the waist and hauls you back to the bed. Your back hits the mattress and you try to leverage the momentum to propel yourself back onto your feet.
He catches you immediately and you find yourself back on the bed again.
“I don’t mean to be patronizing,” he says, failing to bite back a laugh, “but it’s adorable that you think you can outmaneuver me.”
That is deeply offensive and the only way you can earn my forgiveness is by letting me take my rightful place on the couch.” You can’t quite keep the laugh from your voice.
He grins. “Not a chance.”
You attempt to dive off the opposite side of the bed, only to have him grab you by the ankles and pull you back. You manage to dislodge him and lunge in the opposite direction, only to be immediately thwarted.
It becomes increasingly hilarious the longer it goes on and soon your sides are aching from laughter. Loki is laughing too, but it doesn’t seem to affect his strength or speed at all.
Eventually, he wrestles you back down onto the bed and you are fairly certain there’s no way out of this one—he’s got your wrists pinned above your head and his legs locked around yours. You’re both a little out of breath.
“Yield,” he says.
You shake your head. “Never.”
His gaze flicks to your lips and back to your eyes. “Yield.”
“No.”
Something has changed. There’s an electricity and intensity that crackles in the air between you, possibilities blooming in both of your gazes. It feels a little like that moment by the elevator, but you’re afraid to hope, afraid to even wish because the idea of him wanting you still feels as impossible as capturing smoke with a net. 
But the way he’s looking at you, the way his gaze keeps drifting between your eyes and your lips…that’s not nothing.
“Yield.”
You lick your lips, your heart beating wildly. “No.”
Is it just your imagination, or did his breath hitch when you licked your lips?
“Yield.”
God, he’s so close and you want him so badly. 
“No.”
He looks again at your lips and this time, he closes the distance between you.
They call him Silvertongue—you’ve heard the jokes, you’ve rolled your eyes at all of them. But as he kisses you, you realize that there’s an element of truth there because only seconds in and you’re ready to sign away your soul to live under the power of Loki’s tongue. The slow, warm slide of it against yours, the way he guides your mouth against his, the way he lets out a soft sigh as he tastes you—you would give up everything if it meant you could stay like this.
“Yield,” he breathes against your lips.
“No,” you say.
He deepens the kiss, catching your lower lip between his teeth and gently tugging until you whimper and arch against him.
He still has your hands pinned against the bed, his grip unyielding when you try to wrestle them away.
“Let me touch you,” you say when he draws back. You want to touch him everywhere—run your hands along every muscle you’ve admired from afar. 
“Then yield,” he says with a grin, his eyes flashing with devilish intent.
You consider this for a moment. You could give in—there aren’t really any stakes at this point and you’re pretty sure you’re both going to end up sleeping in his bed tonight anyway. But that glint of mischief in his eyes also promises some intriguing possibilities if you stand firm.
“No,” you say.
“Such a pity,” says Loki, though his expression is one of hungry delight.
His hands slip free of your wrists then, but they stay pinned to the bed by some invisible force.
“Cheater,” you say. 
“I think this is only fair,” he says, his hands sliding to your hips. “I’m clearly the victor, am I not entitled to my prize?”
You shiver. “Your prize?”
“Yes.” He kisses down the column of your throat. “My lovely, lovely prize.”
“How can I be your prize if I’m also your competitor?”
“You think too much,” he mumbles against your neck.
“You say that like it’s a bad thing.”
“Generally, it’s not.” He sits back on his heels between your legs, looking you over with satisfaction. “But in this case, it’s distracting you from more pressing matters.” His hands creep under the hem of your shirt, stroking the small of your back, thumbs tracing teasingly along the waistband of your pajama pants. 
“Have I mentioned how much I enjoy seeing you in my clothes?” he asks. There’s a husky depth to his voice and a hunger in his eyes that sends a flood of arousal to your cunt.
“You have not,” you say.
“A casualty of too much thinking,” he says solemnly, his thumbs gently grazing the skin at your hipbones. “You look utterly delectable. I almost want to leave them on.” His eyes glitter with mischief. “Almost.” His hand strays to the bottom button on your pajama top. “May I?”
You nod. “Yes.”
He slips the button free and slowly makes his way up until your shirt is open. He carefully pushes the fabric aside, baring your breasts to his sight and touch.
You’ve never felt more beautiful seeing Loki stare at you, lips slightly parted, eyes wide and hungry. He trails one hand up your stomach and rib cage and slowly brushes a thumb over your nipple. You gasp and the sensitive skin puckers and stiffens as he palms your breast, rolling your nipple between his thumb and forefinger.
“Gorgeous,” he murmurs as he lowers his mouth to your breast, his tongue and lips taking up the role of his hand, while his other hand moves to cup your other breast. You whimper, wishing you could run your hands through his hair. “That’s it,” he purrs, “I want to hear all the sounds you can make, my love.”
You rock your hips forward and arch your back as he lavishes attention on your breasts. It’s the most delicious kind of torture, having him so close, but not being able to touch him.
He’s taking his time, which you both love and hate. He feels so good, but you need him to touch you, you need to touch him, you need him inside of you. You wait until you can’t take it any more and breathe his name like it’s a prayer.
You wonder if this is what he was waiting for because with little more than a brief smirk and a wicked look, he starts kissing his way back up your chest and neck. You whimper when his lips meet yours and you can feel him grin as he kisses you. He fits his hips against yours, angling himself so that his cock rubs up against your clit just right and you moan into his mouth. You can tell that he’s big and part of you wants to savor the anticipation even though you feel like you might go mad if he doesn’t fuck you now. You rock your hips against him, trying to feel that friction.
His large hands frame your face, one hand sliding to cradle the back of your head so he can draw you deeper, the other trailing from your cheek to your throat.
Both hands soon stroke down your sides, lingering teasingly at the waistband of your pajama pants. He hooks his thumbs underneath the waistband and you lift your hips. He slides your pants down maybe an inch and you can feel him smiling as he kisses you. You lift your hips again and your waistband creeps down another inch.
“Loki.” His name falls from your lips with a sigh.
“What is it, my love?”
“Touch me,” you breathe. “Please.”
You lift your hips again and this time, he pulls the fabric fully down and off your legs. He guides your legs apart and stares appreciatively at your bare cunt, his teasing expression replaced by a rapt awe.
“Beautiful,” he murmurs. 
You believe him.
His hands stroke your thighs, seemingly in no hurry, despite your pleading whimpers and the way you arch against the mattress. He draws his thumb gently along your slit, barely grazing your clit.
“Do you know what an utter distraction it’s been sitting behind you?” he asks, tracing your clit in the slowest, lightest circle.
You arch upward, hands still bound by his magic. “Tell me,” you breathe, your hips rising to chase his hand.
“Every time you stood up, I could only think about bending you over the desk.”
You manage a sly smirk. “And here I thought you didn’t like me much at all.”
His thumb presses a little more against your clit and you moan.
“I’ve wanted you from the moment I saw you,” he says, rolling his thumb in a slow circle. “I kept you at arm’s length partly as a matter of protection.”
For who?”
“You,” he says. “I’m not fully redeemed in some eyes and you being involved with a dangerous variant—”
“You’re not,” you say.
“Some would disagree.”
“Well, they’re wrong,” you say. “You’re not a dangerous variant. You’re Loki Laufeyson and I want you just as you are.”
There’s something unreadable in his expression and it makes you wonder how many people have told him that he can just be himself.
“You should be careful saying such lovely things to me, you know,” he says solemnly.
You raise an eyebrow. “Oh really? And why is that?”
“Because it makes me want to do very wicked things to you.”
You’re surprised you’re not shaking, you want him so badly. “What kinds of wicked things?”
“Oh, all manner of wicked things.” He presses a kiss to the inside of your knee, his tongue swiping briefly against your skin. “Things with my mouth...” His thumb rolls over your clit again, his index finger teasing your entrance before retreating. “…my hands…” He drags his gaze over your naked form before locking eyes with you. “My cock.”
A shiver works its way up your spine. “So if I talk about how I think you’re really clever and funny and I find it unbelievably sexy, what sort of wicked thing would that merit?”
The intensity of his gaze makes you shiver again. He crouches down and presses another kiss against the inside of your knee, slowly moving upward. “If you keep talking like that, I’m not going to let you leave my bed for days.”
“You know that’s not a disincentive, right?” you say, sucking in a sharp breath as he nips at the soft skin of your inner thigh. “I’ve wanted you for such a long time, Loki.”
“I’ll make it weeks if you’re not careful.”
“Again, not a disincentive.” You gently tug at your bound wrists and find that they’re still firmly secured. It’s exhilarating, even though you really wish you could run your hands through his hair, especially if he ends up where you think he’s going.
“What else should I tell you?” you muse as he continues his agonizingly slow path along your thigh. “You know, half the reason I kept to myself was that I wanted you so much I was certain that I’d make a fool of myself.”
That earns you a few circles of your clit with his thumb, but his progress up your thigh remains slow. You have a theory about what might move the needle, though.
“I know you like to act like you’re this sort of barely reformed villain, but I think there’s more good in you than you’d like people to believe.”
This time, he moves up to the crease where your thigh joins your hip, close enough that you can feel the heat of his breath ghosting along your labia. His tongue traces a line along your skin and you briefly wonder if you’ll be able to hold it together enough to deliver the last part.
“And,” you say, trying to keep your voice steady, “yesterday and today made me want you even more because I feel like I finally saw who you really are and you’re even more wond—”
Your words abruptly give way to a breathy moan because his perfect, skilled tongue has finally found its way to your clit.
You had a plan from here, but whatever it was has dissolved into nothing under the skilled caress of Loki’s tongue. You suspected he would be good at this from the way that he’d kissed you earlier, but you could not have imagined that it would feel like this.
“Oh my god, Loki.” Your thighs are already quaking. You tug again at the invisible bonds on your wrists, but they hold fast. Something about the way the bonds are keeping you gently stretched along the bed combined with how his large hands have your thighs spread open seems to heighten every sensation. There’s no wiggling away from him or adjusting yourself so that you feel more or less of the onslaught of his tongue on your cunt. You are completely at his mercy and you’re not entirely surprised that you fucking love it.
He slides a finger into your aching channel and your cunt shudders around the thick intrusion. The warm, roiling center of your orgasm starts builds in your hips with every stroke of his tongue, spinning faster and faster, like ocean winds whipping up into a hurricane. Your back arches and his tongue presses flat against your clit, and suddenly you know that this is going to be what takes you over the edge.
Loki seems to know it too, at least from the way that he presses his tongue more firmly against you, one arm slung across your hips to hold you in place. His other hand slides two fingers inside you, rocking and curling against that aching, tender spot.
You whimper, your hips bucking wildly. It’s so good and so much and you are almost there.
You look down at him then, his hair wild, hollowed cheeks flushed pink as his tongue works you over, his eyes closed like he couldn’t imagine anything more blissful than being in between your legs while you come undone.
This is ultimately what tips you over the edge. The storm that has been forming inside you is finally let loose and you arch your back and cry out in a wordless scream as your climax crashes into you.
Only then do the bonds around your wrists release and your hands fly down to grab his hair as your body shakes with pleasure.
It takes a moment for you to get your breath back and reacquaint yourself with the concept of speech, but when you do, you find Loki looking up at you, his expression pure mischief.
“And to think you wanted to sleep on the couch.”
“It wasn’t that I wanted to sleep on the couch, it’s that—” Your voice cuts off as his tongue starts stroking your clit again.
“It’s what?” he asks in between strokes, his smirk obvious in his voice. The lingering ripples of your orgasm are coalescing around the path of his tongue, tightening that coil in your belly again.
“Fuck—you’re not playing fair, you can’t just—” You lose your sentence to a low moan that rises up from your chest. “You can’t just—fuck, yes—you can’t…oh god, yes, just like that.”
His laughter rumbles against you as your hips start rocking against his mouth. How are you already so close?
“You can’t just—fuck—win an argument by—”
You’re trying to say that he can’t expect to win an argument by making you come and you think he might understand this based on how determined he seems to be to prove you wrong. His fingers curl again until he finds that soft, tender spot that is so often the key to your unraveling.
You have stopped trying to complete that sentence—you moan, your hands tangling in his hair, urging him on as the swell of your climax rushes up, inevitable as a tidal wave looming over a seaside village.
You cry out as it crests and breaks, falling down over you in a rush of tingling pleasure that feels like champagne and fireworks all at once.
“Now, what was it you were saying, my love?” he asks as he releases your clit a moment later. “Something about how I can’t just win an argument by making you come? I couldn’t quite hear you over the sound of you coming completely undone on my tongue.”
“Oh, you think you’re so smart,” you say, giving him a stern look as he crawls up your body.
“You know what I think?” he says, settling himself on his side next to you. “I think you liked submitting to me.”
You shiver before you can even think about hiding it and his smile turns decidedly vulpine. 
“You did, didn’t you? You liked having your hands bound and being completely at my mercy while I licked your pretty cunt until you came undone in my mouth.”
“You are enjoying this far too much,” you say.
“I am enjoying it the correct amount.”
You realize your hands are now free to explore his body and you tug at his pajama shirt. “I think you’re wearing too many clothes,” you say.
He gives you a wicked grin as he lets you pull his shirt over his head. “Yes, perhaps it’s time we even things up.”
You pull the shirt away and rake your eyes over him greedily, your hands following the path of your gaze. He is as perfect as you imagined, unfairly beautiful in the dim light of the bedroom.
You hook your thumbs into the waistband of his pajama pants and lower them an inch, a cheeky parallel of how he teased you earlier. His lips curl into a sharp smile when he realizes what you’re doing.
“Interesting strategy.” There’s a bit of a growl in his voice, a rough desperation that makes your cunt clench. “But I think you forgot that I have the upper hand here.”
He raises his hand and with a twist of his wrist, his remaining clothes dissolve in a shimmer of green and he is bare before you.
Your breath catches in your throat. His cock commands your immediate attention, nudging up against your thigh—he’s big, as you suspected, but completely bare and rock hard, he somehow seems longer and thicker than he had when he was grinding against you.
He pulls you into a slow kiss as you reach for his cock. You wrap your hand around him, delighting in the silky hardness of him, the way he throbs in your hand and the low groan he makes as your hand moves from base to tip and back, the way his hips thrust along with you. Your cunt clenches in anticipation.
After a moment, though, he places his hand over yours, slowing your movements.
“I need to be inside you,” he rasps.
“Yes,” you breathe.
He rolls on top of you  and you’re not sure that you’ve ever felt anything quite as wonderful as the heat of his bare skin and yours pressed together. This feeling means intimacy, a closeness that you’d longed for but never expected even in your wildest daydreams.
He pulls you into a kiss, slow, soft, and languid, like you have all the time in the world and he intends to take it. It’s decadent and dreamy and perfect.
But the heavy weight of his bare cock resting against your stomach combined with the ache between your legs—an ache that would be so perfectly soothed by the hard column of flesh currently throbbing against you—proves to be a force too powerful to resist for very long.
You cant your hips against him, snaking one leg around his waist, hoping he’ll get the hint.
He does.
He braces himself on one hand, the other sliding between your bodies to rub his cock along your slick folds. He positions himself at your entrance, waiting for your breathy plea to begin to ease himself slowly into you.
He fills and stretches you in the most wonderful way, but even more than that, he feels like home. The thought strikes you quite suddenly and you’re not entirely sure about everything it means, but you know it’s good and right.
He pauses for just a moment, seeming to savor the feeling.
“You feel better than I ever imagined,” he says.
You quirk an eyebrow at him. “You imagined?”
He gives you a hungry smile as he leans in to kiss you. “Like I said: it has been an utter distraction sitting behind you.”
His rhythm is slow and easy, like he wants to take his time learning every inch of you and memorizing how you react to his touch. His mouth moves over yours in a slow kiss that’s somehow both languid and demanding, his tongue gliding in and out of your mouth in the same rhythm of his hips rocking into you. His cock bumps up against that sweet spot inside of you that his fingers had teased earlier, each stroke inching you closer to bliss.
He shifts the angle of his hips so that his pubic bone grinds against your clit and it feels so good you almost see stars. You can feel your orgasm building, your cunt growing slicker and tensing around his thrusting cock.
He draws back to look at you, eyes hazy with a loose, dreamy kind of pleasure.
“Do you have any idea how good you feel?” he breathes.
You are shaking. “Loki, I’m gonna come.”
“I know you are,” he purrs. “Let go for me, let me feel you, my love.”
With two more thrusts of his hips, you unravel.
He groans as you tremble around him, but mostly, he watches your face, rapt by the way you throw your head back against the bed and gasp his name like it’s the only thing that will save you.
“You’re beautiful when you come,” he breathes. “Absolutely stunning.”
He waits until you catch your breath before he kisses you again, slow and sensual. His hips are still rocking in that beautifully slow rhythm and you don’t know how it can still feel so good.
He keeps moving against you, his touch and his low murmurs of praise invoking a symphony of sensations. He presses deeper and your body sings with every thrust, your muscles tensing and tightening around him like you never want him to leave. Your climax swells again and you come with a whimper, your whole body shaking as he fucks you through it.
You want him to come, want to hear the sounds he makes and feel his sweet, hot release burning inside of you.
“I want you to come for me,” you breathe.
He grins at you. “Oh, I will, but not yet. You’re not done yet.”
You whimper. “Loki—”
“Two more, my love, two more and then I’ll come for you.”
Somehow, you give him three. By the second one, he’s panting and his words have become rough, his voice a growl as he utters some of the filthiest praise you’ve ever heard. The third builds quickly after that and you know instinctively that you’re going to take him over the edge with you this time.
You fight to keep your eyes open against the tidal wave of pleasure blooming again in your hips. You need to see him come undone.
As in everything else he does, he’s unfairly beautiful—he throws his head back, letting out a low groan that you can feel all the way to the tips of your toes. His cheeks are flushed, a few ink dark curls plastered to the light sheen of sweat on his forehead. You can feel him emptying himself inside you, his release hot and hard won.
It seems to last a long time and it’s another minute before his hips slow to a halt. He kisses you, so soft and sweet it would almost seem chaste were it not for the fact that his cock is still throbbing inside of you.
After a moment, he slowly eases out of you, rolling over onto his back, his arm snaking around your waist and pulling you to him like he can’t bear to be parted from you even for a moment.
You curl up against his side, your legs tangling with his. He takes your hand, lacing his fingers with yours before resting your clasped hands on his heart.
You could fall in love like this, you think sleepily to yourself.
You don’t know it then, but you’re right.
*
Time moves differently at the TVA, but a couple years later, there’s a ring in a box on your desk.
Loki likes a spectacle and you’d daydreamed about a traditional wedding, but when you talk it over, you both agree that you want to do something different, something quiet, something just for the two of you.
“I do think we should tell Mobius beforehand,” you say to Loki.
“Isn’t the point of eloping that no one knows until after it’s done?” says Loki.
“Yes, but I feel like we could make one exception,” you say. “If we’d done a full wedding, I would have asked him to give me away.”
Loki’s gaze softens a bit then and he pulls you close. “All right. But we only tell him right before we leave. The man can’t keep a secret.”
But Mobius doesn’t seem terribly surprised when you tell him—in fact, he seems far more concerned about your wedding gift.
“I didn’t have a chance to wrap it yet,” he says. He’s retrieved a large picture frame that had been propped against his desk, though he keeps it turned away from you. “So…this also requires a bit of an overdue confession for context.”
You raise your eyebrows. “A confession?”
“A confession,” says Mobius.
“Will I be angry about this?” asks Loki at the same time you say, “Is this like a go to jail confession or a misdemeanor confession?”
Mobius gives a good natured chuckle, shaking his head slightly. “God, the two of you. Always so dramatic. No wonder you ended up together.” He takes what feels like an unnecessarily long drink from the coffee mug on his desk. “It’s not bad, I promise.” Another sip of coffee. 
Loki sighs. “He always does this,” he says to you. “Have you noticed? Whenever he has something that you want to know, he stalls and drags it out just to torment you.”
“Okay,” you say, “but you jumping in to bicker with him probably doesn’t help.”
“I’m not bickering,” says Loki. “I’m simply pointing out that he’s stalling—”
“What was it you were saying, Mobius?” you say brightly, nudging Loki with your elbow.
Mobius’ eyes twinkle. “See,” he says to Loki, “I always liked her. It’s a good match.”
You don’t have to look at Loki to know he’s rolling his eyes, though he also makes a point of surreptitiously pinching your ass, a detail you hope Mobius doesn’t notice.
“Anyway,” says Mobius, taking a deep breath, “it was pretty clear to me from the start that you liked each other. And you also seemed absolutely determined to get in your own way.” He points to Loki. “Especially you with your whole stilted Asgardian prince thing.”
Loki frowns. “What are you talking about?”
Mobius sighs. “Anytime you like someone, it’s like your brain gets a factory reset and you get all overly polite and courtly.”
Loki scoffs. “I don’t do that at all.”
“You do. It’s deeply weird. You’re like a mannerly robot.”
Loki turns to you. “Darling, tell him he’s being absurd.”
You reach over and squeeze his hand. “You did call me ‘my lady’ a couple of times in the early days.”
Loki sighs and looks back at Mobius. “What was your point in mentioning this?”
“Well,” says Mobius, “you seemed pretty determined to get in your own way, so nothing was happening. And eventually I got sick of all of the pining, so I decided to take matters into my own hands.”
“What do you mean?”
Mobius pauses, a hint of a smile pulling at the corners of his mouth. “There wasn’t a breakthrough with Berlitz that weekend. What there was was a surplus in the overtime budget and a high priority indexing project for Archives.”
Your lips part as your brain slowly puts the pieces together. Mobius’ eyes twinkle.
“Wait,” you say, “you lied to us?”
“I did not lie,” says Mobius, his demeanor suddenly becoming very serious. “That would have been wrong.” He nods at Loki. “Also, it would’ve tipped him off and that would have ruined the whole thing. I simply failed to mention that the cart of files that I gave you needed to be sorted for indexing for the Archives department and I peppered in a couple of unrelated things about Berlitz.”
“But the office was empty that weekend,” says Loki.
Mobius snaps his fingers. “Right. I did make some adjustments to the schedule that weekend.”
“And the disturbance that prevented her from returning home on Saturday night?”
Mobius spreads his hands wide and grins. “All me, buddy. Paid G-21 five hundred bucks for that one.”
Loki pauses for a moment and then looks at you. “I don’t think I can be mad about this. I’m genuinely impressed.”
“I mean, I can’t argue with the results, but Jesus, Mobius, you could’ve just set us up on a blind date,” you say.
“Ah, but that’s not as fun,” Mobius says. “Plus, it wouldn’t have made for as good a wedding gift.” He turns the frame around and hands it to you both.
It’s both your timecards from that pay period, neatly framed side by side. Your eyes well with tears and Mobius smiles.
“Honestly, I’m just relieved it’s not a jet ski,” says Loki.
“He's deflecting,” you say to Mobius in an exaggerated whisper.
“I know,” he whispers back.
But you can’t help but notice that Loki’s eyes are brighter than normal.
“Okay, now get out of here,” says Mobius. “You’ve got a wedding to get to.”
Twenty minutes later, you’re wearing a simple white dress and standing with Loki in front of a time door, your hand clasped in his.
“Technically, we don’t have a supervisor’s approval for this,” you say with a wry smile.
He looks at you, eyes dancing with mirth. “I had Mobius sign off on the paperwork while you were getting ready.”
Your heart swells and your smile is so wide that you feel like your face might split in two. “Then hurry up and marry me, Laufeyson.”
He grins and tugs you through the time door.
-------
But wait! There's more: I don't have a masterlist for this, but if you enjoy these idiots, check out Daylight, a sort of sequel.
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arminsumi · 8 months
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🔞 bed breaking ft. gojo
warnings : minors do not read/interact : smut, creampies, "princess", daddy kink, dirty talk, no plot just pure horny from my melted 1 am brain!!
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mmm gojo is fucking crazee 😖
so duh... sex with gojo is crazy too. erratic. sweaty. he has u in all imaginable positions all over the bed in the span of an hour. oh... two hours. oh ok... three hours. jesus... four hours? does he run out of stamina? uhhh... yeah if your pussy milks him too good, then he collapses to ur side. refuses to lay in the wet patch. spoiled prince. but he spoils your princess pussy with lots and lots and lots of creampies. and my fucking god he is CRAZED for creampies. loves stuffing u full!! loves seeing your pussy quiver when his cockhead pops out and ur hole spits cum out. he watches it dribble down your slit like its a wildlife documentary. makes stupid jokes during sex so u break down giggling in the middle, he slows and stills inside and laughs with you, feeling his dick throb, apologetically kissing u and thennnnnn he snaps u out of those giggles by shoving his cock up into ur guts n pounding away... grunting and gripping ur hips which are really truly his most favorite thing in the world. he goes harder bc he sees ur body jiggling under his imposing frame. such a big boy with a stupidly big dick to match. yk!! big cock for a cocky boy!! and he knows how to use it, which makes him so lethal in bed; he can make those legs shake then go numb and laugh abt it... "oh ur so fuckin' weak baby, yeah? too fuckin' weak to take this dick? aw my pretty little princess... she can't even take daddy's dick..." n he just fucks u deeper into the mattress while u weep n sob into the pillow, too full of pleasure to think. too full of his dick to think :( he has genuinely broken ur bed... MULTIPLE. TIMES. and he doesn't apologize for it because he doesn't think he's at fault. no it's not his animalistic thrusts when he's reaching balls deep inside u that's the problem... it's just a cheap bed that can't support him!! blame the bed!! "oh... lol i think u need a new bed... 🤭" he thinks its sooo funny that ur bed cant take his pounding and yet ur pussy happily takes the abuse. "wow... i broke ur pussy and ur bed in one night!! :) i deserve a medal."
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