#i'm so face blind it's embarrassing

[littlepetbee]

watch movies with me and prepare to be amazed at just how many different guys i can think are the Same Guy

[falling-hand-in-unlovable-hand]

nothing like almost putting a huntsman spider in your mouth to really get the adrenaline flowing

[shotmrmiller]

i'll teach you love, don't worry.

simon x virgin f!reader 2.2k words oops

explicit smut mdni

cbf!simon teaches you everything.

he convinces you to let him be your first kiss. "don't ya wanna know how to kiss when finally get your first boyfriend?"

embarrassing, because you're in college yet still completely inexperienced.

when you bite your lip and give a subtle nod of agreement, a sly smirk graces his lips.

"don't worry love, i'll teach you."

the way he slowly slanted his lips over yours, his tongue gently sliding into your mouth, his teeth nibbling on your bottom lip before pulling away— breaths mingling as he rested his forehead against yours after the searing kiss had your knees weak. if it wasn't for him holding your body up, you would've crumpled to the ground.

-

cbf!simon convinces you to let him teach you how to masturbate. (and kinda eats you out.)

"ya gotta learn your own body first before letting anyone else touch ya."

when you bring up the fact that he'd be touching you for this, simon just said, "yeah, but i'm not jus' anyone, am i love?"

kneeling on the edge of your bed, his warm breath fanned over your bare cunt as he spoke. "ya wanna use the pads of your fingers to touch the little nub tha' peeks out from under your hood." doing as he said, you flinch at the sensitivity of it. "you're just not used to it, is all, you're alrigh'. now, i want you to start drawin' small circles on your clit."

when he sees you wince, he quickly grabs your wrist and pulls your hand away. "oh. you jus' need a bit of lubrication, love. if you'd let me, i can help ya with tha'."

the word yes is scarcely past your lips when he's grabbing onto the supple underside of your widened thighs, gently urging you to lean back— arms instinctively supporting your weight behind you.

he leans forward until his mouth is inches from your cunt, and spits directly on it— the warmth of his saliva on your sensitive bundle of nerves makes your toes curl in response.

he tells you to touch yourself again. "use my spit to rub your clit again, it'll feel much better, i promise."

simon's face remained firmly nestled between your legs, so you would occasionally feel the bristly texture of his stubble grazing your fingers.

each little circle you drew on your slippery bud had the warmth in your lower belly get hotter, your limbs beginning to tighten along with the coil in your stomach. it's a euphoric pleasure that begins to build up, and up, and up. there's an obscene slick noise coming from underneath your fingertips, your thighs are shaking in simon's firm grip, spine curving and toes curling.

you're whimpering and panting, mouth slightly open, head thrown back whatever is happening inside of you. what you do know is that it feels like a rollercoaster and you're starting to reach the peak in the track.

you can feel your core throbbing, pulsing, clenching. your stomach is now painfully tight—

suddenly, your forearm begins to cramp— rapidly.

a pained yet aggravated noise slips from your mouth, and you slump back on the bed to flex your arm— stretching the ligament furiously because you have to stop your pleasure when there's a hot, slippery something in between your puffy folds, flicking at your aching clit and it does it again, and again, and again...

then you feel a suction on your pearl— you're pushed past a threshold you hadn't even known you'd hit.

all of your body's tension just floods out— you're plunged into a pool of blinding ecstasy.

you're letting out choked gasps as your spine tingles in bliss— it's a massive release of emotions, of stress, of responsibility, if only for a few seconds.

you lay in the aftershocks of your climax, limp yet you've never felt more rejuvenated in your life. there's a buzzing in your ears that fades as your soul comes back into your body, and you notice that there are still two rough hands on your quivering thighs— kneading them like a cat.

simon presses a wet kiss to your inner thigh, and you jerk away when his facial hair prickles your delicate skin.

"tha' must've been somethin' else, eh? years of repressed—" You swing a sluggish hand at his head to make him stop talking, and when it connects, he returns the favor with a harsh suckle to your thigh.

"don't make me bite you, pet," he gently warns.

you grunt, then go through what just happened in your head.

"simon. did you use your mouth on me?"

he bites your leg in response.

-

cbf!simon teaches you how to give oral sex (per your request)

he all but ripped his trousers off, eager to get started. simon tells you to kneel on the pillow and find yourself face-to-face with his manhood.

it's fucking huge, there's no other way to put it. he's long, an easy 8 inches— he's so thick you can't wrap your hand completely around it.

jesus.

"look at me, pet," he commands.

you look up at him through your lashes, and he's dropping his head forward— covering his eyes, mumbling out a 'fuckin' hell'.

he takes a second to gather his wits, and then lifts his head again, to lock eyes with you.

"there is no wrong way t'do this, y'hear? the most important thing is tha' you enjoy it too. otherwise, i won't be enjoying it either, alright? now, personally, i like a little twinge of pain. so don't be afraid to graze your teeth on my cock, yeah?"

you nod and begin exploring.

the tip of your tongue licks at his glistening slit, pulling a hiss from simon. he tastes slightly salty, and something uniquely him, delicious. you pump his length with your fist, bunching up the skin on the upstroke under his flared head, then pulling down until you hit the base.

simon remains patient, never rushing you to take him into your mouth, or thrusting his hips toward your face. when you flick your eyes up at him, his dark eyes are glassy, outlined by long, straight lashes— heavy-lidded with lust. his crooked nose is stained with a tinge of pink, the same color as his bitten lips.

he's holding himself perfectly still for you, so you grant him respite. you put the entire tip into your mouth. simon lets out a strangled moan and immediately moves his hand to tangle in your hair.

you remember some of the bad porno videos and imitate what they did. you tease the bottom of his cock with the tip of your tongue, tracing the connective tissue that's right under his head. then you take him in further until he reaches the back of your throat, and the sensation makes you gag, forcing you to pull back.

there's a string of saliva connecting you two when he slips out of your mouth, and you close your eyes to breathe in through your nose. simon runs his fingers through your hair wordlessly, only speaking once you're ready to try this again.

"there's no need to take me in tha' deep, i could come from jus' your pretty lips 'round the tip alone."

you take in one more deep, calming breath before putting him in your mouth again and start bobbing your head. the groans that spill from simon's mouth invigorate you to keep going even as your jaw begins to ache, and your blowjob turns sloppy. there's saliva all over his trimmed pubic hair— your chin is slick with it too. you're drooling all over the hand that's wrapped around his base, and just when you are about to stop, simon begins to babble.

"fuck, fuckfuckfuck i'm so close please don't stop please please, fuck your mouth feels like heaven, god i've been wantin’ to do this with ya f'so long and it's finally happenin', fuck don't," he moans, "don't fucking stop, fuck, fuck—"

his cock swells in your mouth to what feels like an impossible size, one you can't handle so your jaw slackens. the edges of your teeth scrape along his rigid length. his upper body curls forward and lets out a long, guttural moan as he comes— cock twitching violently as he spurts thick, warm, ropes of cum on your tongue. it's so much that it begins to spill from the corners of your mouth, dripping down to your chin.

simon's panting harshly, his breath hitting your face when he swallows thickly, then tips your head up with an unsteady hand.

his voice is hoarse when he asks, "d'you swallow it?"

you keep your eyes locked on his as you do, then stick your tongue out of your mouth to show him. simon's gaze fixates on the display before pulling you in as he firmly grasps the back of your head and draws a tantalizing line across your tongue with his own.

later, you tell him to drink more water.

-

cbf!simon teaches you what it's like to be his (you've been his, why do you think the idiot that you met at the mall ghosted you?)

you're swollen and slick after the 4 orgasms simon gave you with his mouth and are more than ready to take him. it doesn't mean you aren't nervous about it.

"don't worry, love. i'll teach you what real pleasure is," and starts to slowly sink into your virginal channel. it's an uncomfortable feeling, and you can feel yourself trying to push the invader out.

"need ya to relax f'me, pet. the more ya resist, the more pain you'll feel. jus' give in, i've got ya," he coos. you nod into his neck and breathe in, letting your muscles go slack, and like a stone dropping into water, simon sinks to the hilt.

the sensation is too much, you feel too full, so you try to squirm away from under him, but he tilts your head back by the hair to give you a passionate kiss.

you experimentally move your hips and the delicious sensation that licks up your spine has you moaning in his mouth. simon pulls away, throws one leg over his arm, and starts to move.

his thrusts are complete, pulling out until only the tip is buried in your tender walls, and pushes until his balls are flush against your sweaty skin— the tip of his head softly pressed against the entrance of your womb.

simon suddenly changes positions, hooking your other leg over his arm, and begins to shallowly thrust halfway— hitting the sweet spot you didn't know you had until a couple of weeks ago.

he pushes into it with such precision that your vision is white behind your eyelids, and there isn't one coherent thought in your empty head.

"i've been dreamin' to put tha’ cock-drunk look on your face f'years," simon hums, "it's somethin' tha' i'll never forget. now give me what's mine, yeah?" and his hips begin to move with ardour. every drag of his thick cock is pushing you to one last mind-numbing orgasm, and simon knows it because he picks up the pace— he's relentless in his pursuit of your climax, almost as if it was his own. when your channel begins to flutter around him, he hisses through his teeth and looks down at where he disappears inside of you.

there are strings of sticky arousal that connect from your puffy lips to his pubic hair, the sounds your cunt makes are obscene, creamy, wet—

words fall from his lips unbidden.

"come around my cock, squeeze me with your tight cunt, fuck, ya feel so fuckin' good, c'mon baby, give it to me, c'mon baby, c'monbabyc'monbaby—"

you choke back a sob as you're slammed by an all-encompassing avalanche of bliss, nails digging into simon's shoulders as you milk his cock for all he's worth.

all of your senses are focused on the feel of simon pistoning into your abused hole, looking for his release. he fucks you straight through your peak, an incredible show of stamina until you're teetering on the brink of oversensitivity.

as you come down from your high, simon moves your legs that were dangling by his side, hooking them over his shoulders, changing the angle— hitting so much deeper than before.

it feels like his cock is rearranging your guts, and if you looked at your stomach, you'd see a lewd bulge in it. you're not sure how much more of him you can take, your nerves feel raw, exposed— but you hold on because the noises simon is making are something you've never heard before. those high-pitched moans are driving you insane. you honestly feel like you could come from them alone, but then his thrusts turn sloppy. after three brutal, spine-jarring thrusts, he finally stiffens.

his cock is twitching inside of you as he spills his essence, not bothering to pull out, mumbling softly about getting you a morning-after pill tomorrow.

simon gently removes himself from within you, dropping his heavy weight to your side with an oof, and drawing your overheated body towards him. the air in the room is thick and heavy— it smells of sweat and sex. the only sound that breaks the silence is the sound of your labored breathing until you whisper that you have to go to the bathroom.

he quickly gets up and carries you to it, then closes the door behind him.

simon spots the blood stain on his bed and is over the fucking moon.

he's your first and will make sure to be your last.

for my 🪐

[gor3-hound]

FUCK YOU !! (AND, UH, FUCK HER TOO) — LOGAN HOWLETT + SCOTT SUMMERS

ft. scott summers x f!reader x logan howlett

a/n: deadpool and wolverine full throttled me back into my x-men era... rewatched the first two movies and binge wrote this over the course of three hours... it's pure, shameless smut with slightly gay undertones idk what to tell you... reader is basically in place of jean!!

cw: 18+ content, double penetration, almost cucking, cheating, reader is scott's girlfriend, logan is an asshole, competitive sex?? fighting, clawsTM, biting, marking, mild possessive behavior, p in v, mild scent kink, assholery all round tbh, creampies, threesome. gay crisis for a second x

word count: 2.3k words

Scott is starting to think Logan likes his things way too much. First, it was the way he looked at you when he was first brought to the school, eyes raking over your form. Scott wasn't blind – the visor didn't impair his vision that much. He remembers walking into the room when the both of you were alone. He could sense the tension between the two of you before his presence was even made known to you.

It wasn't until a while later he'd figured out Logan probably smelt him coming. Cocky bastard probably wanted to be caught.

Then, it was his motorcycle. His very own pride and joy. Returned with an empty tank, his keys tossed to him like it was nothing. His eyes narrowed imperceptibly behind his visor as he chucked the keys back to Logan. He barely managed to reign in his irritation.

“You gonna tell me to stay away from your girl?” Scott had told him to do so after that comment, despite having the faith in you that you'd be able to avoid Logan's charms. He was clearly wrong. Logan didn't seem like the type to have much respect, but this was just taking the piss.

“Been meaning to test if these beams could pulverise Adamantium.”

All he gets in reply is a shit eating grin from Logan as he pulls away from the heated kiss Scott had walked in on, his hands still gripping your waist. You really had the audacity to get all wide-eyes and shocked, like you weren't just about to fuck Logan with your ass perched on Scott's bike.

“Shit. Scott, I'm-”

“Sorry?” He cuts off, gaze very clearly still trained on Logan despite the way his shades conceal his line of vision. “Yeah. Save it.”

“Thought I could smell that shitty hair gel.” Logan huffs, bringing his head down to nip and suck at your neck, adding to the wide array of marks he's already left. And you fucking let him, tilting your head back and gasping like it's the best thing you've ever felt. Scott's gonna kill you, then Logan, then quite possibly himself. “How long’s it take you to get that done in the mornin’ anyway, pretty boy?”

“Right. Says the guy with kitty ears?” Scott bites back, taking a few steps towards the both of you. “I'm gonna give you about three seconds to get away from my girl and my bike before we see how good your healing factor really is.”

Logan fucking laughs, kissing his way up your neck and along your jaw so he can whisper into your ear, breath hot against your skin. “Stay put for me, yeah? Shouldn't take long, sweetheart.”

He pushes away from the bike, turning around to face Scott. Cocks his head to the side like a damn dog, rolling his shoulders as his claws shoot out from his knuckles. “Don't make me embarrass you in front of your girl, Cy-clops.”

Scott fucking hates that, hates the way he drags out his name as if it's stupider than Wolverine. Hates everything about Logan, if he's being honest. Hates how easily the man manages to get under his skin every single time.

“You're such a fucking asshole, y'know that?” Scott squares up, trying his best not to hurl a beam directly at Logan with the hopes he'd be able to send him flying through the garage wall. He's meant to be a team player. Level-headed. He's not sure how the older man always reduces him to this.

“That really hurts my feelings, bub. I thought we were a team.” Logan stalks closer, and Scott's vaguely aware you've gotten up, ready to break up a fight that never comes. Claws sink into the drywall beside his head at the same time he hears you tell Logan to ‘stop’. His back hits the wall, and then the asshole leans down, lips brushing his ear just like he had to yours moments prior.

“Y'know, I can smell the changes in your scent when you're pissed, happy... Can also smell it when you're turned on.” He breathes out, inhaling deeply just to tease the man further. “So either you're really into you're girl gettin’ passed around, or you wanna fuck me. Shit, or both. Which is it, pretty boy?”

“I don't want you to fuck my girl, Logan.” Scott grits put. His looks literally can kill, and he's becoming increasingly tempted to prove that to the other man. “And I definitely don't wanna fuck you.”

“C'mere, baby.” Logan coos, gaze flicking to you. He tuts when Scott goes to move, pressing his body against his to prevent him from getting too far. “Ah-ah. Stay there, pretty boy.”

You're at Logan’s side in a second, peering up at him through your lashes like an obedient dog waiting for its next command. Shit makes Scott's blood boil, his body going rigid against the other man's.

“D'you wanna kiss me, sweetheart?” He asks you, cocking his head to the side with a shit-eating grin plastered on his face. And you fucking nod, like your boyfriend isn't right there staring at you. “D'you think he wants a kiss from me, too, sweetheart? Think he deserves it? Can't have been treatin’ you right if you came runnin’ to me, huh? Maybe I should teach him?”

“Yeah, think he needs it. He's always so stressed, never wants to do anything.” Now you're airing out your relationship issues? Fucking great. Scott's practically seething now, lips parting to say something – anything – to defend himself.

He doesn't get the chance before Logan's lips crash against his. He tenses up, ready for a fight. His hands come up to push the man away, but fuck he's a good kisser. It's a lot different from a girl – rougher. There's a drag of his stubble, a pleasant burn that comes from it. His teeth sink into Scott's lower lip before tugging, then he's forcing his tongue into his mouth. Scott ends up dragging him closer, eyes fluttering shut as he kisses back.

A growl rises in Scott's throat when he hears you giggle at his reaction, but he doesn't have much time to think on it, ‘cause Logan laughs all breathy and hot into his mouth, and it's making him short circuit. The growl quickly transforms into a low whine, his lips chasing after the other man when he starts to pull back.

His eyes open just in time to watch as Logan grabs you by your hair to pull you into a needy kiss, his free hand grasping at your hip to grind you against his rapidly hardening length. Scott feels his own cock twitching to life at the sight, a breathless ‘fuck’ leaving his lips as he reaches down to palm himself through his jeans. He hasn't been this hard in months – maybe ever. He feels like a horny teenager again, leaking pre-cum steadily into the fabric of his boxers. He isn't sure what to think of it. Humiliating, is what it is.

Logan's lips are on his again, his hands sliding under his shirt, tugging him closer. He feels his cock pressing against the hard ridges of Logan's muscles, feels your own hands join his in exploring Scott's skin, your lips pressing kisses along his neck and jaw.

“Relax, Scott.” You say, as if it's the easiest thing in the world. Relax, yeah. His dick is rubbing against another man's for the first time while his girlfriend is reaching around him to unbutton his jeans, and you want him to relax. This is a totally normal scenario that isn't throwing him head first into an identity crisis.

He gets lost in the hands on his body, the lips against his skin. Before he knows it, the three of you are naked and panting and pressed against each other. Scott feels like he can't breathe properly. His eyes dart between your body, and the fattest dick he's ever seen in his life. He doesn't know if he should be turned on or really, really insecure. His cock answers by jumping against his abdomen and leaving a sticky trail of pre-cum. Traitor.

Logan grunts as he lifts you up almost effortlessly, his arms resting at the back of your knees, using them as makeshift slings to hold you up against his chest, which is flush to your back. He quirks an eyebrow as Scott just stares, unmoving. “Well? You don't need me to tell you where to put your dick, do you? No wonder she's so pent up.”

“Asshole.” Scott says simply in response, stepping towards you. His words lack any real bite – he's too turned on to even think about being pissy. He fists his length leisurely a few times before lining up with your entrance, pushing forward inch by inch until his hips are flush with the backs of your thighs, your legs dangling helplessly at his sides.

You gasp and whine as Logan moves to slide in alongside your boyfriend, nails digging into his skin until Logan is buried to the hilt inside of you. Scott instantly peppers the skin of your neck with kisses, trying to soothe you.

“You alright, baby?” He asks, all soft and sweet. He's forgotten why he was mad at you in the first place, mind foggy with arousal as your cunt clenches around him.

“She's fine, bub. She can take it. Isn't that right, sweet thing.” Another whine, then a nod. It eases Scott, if only slightly, when he feels you relaxing against them. A beat passes, and then another. His eyes meet Logan’s and they both start to move – slowly, at first, before picking up the pace.

You're so much tighter like this, sucking him in desperately as he tries to find a rhythm with Logan. He can barely focus in anything but your heat and the way his cock ruts against Logan's as they both fuck into you. It's almost maddeningly hot, and he's feeling overwhelmingly anxious that he's going to cum in an embarrassingly short amount of time.

Scott leans down, his lips meeting yours as he rocks forward over and over. His lashes flutter as he sucks on your tongue, kissing you greedily. He feels a hand tugging at his hair, pulling him away from you before sharp teeth start to nip at his lower lip, a tongue bullying his way into his mouth. He sucks on Logan's, too, kissing him back just as hungrily as he did to you. He rubs soothing circles into your hips as he picks up the pace, coaxing you into relaxing further.

A growl rumbles Logan's chest when he feels Scott fucking you faster, his hips snapping against the fat of your thighs with more intensity, like he's determined to fuck you better than the other man. He's bigger, tip bullying your cervix with every thrust in a way that makes you tear up. His nose twitches as he smells the saltiness of your tears, then he's pulling away from Scott to lap them off of your face.

“Shhh, shh… you can take it, sweetheart. I know you can.” He coos softly, moving to nuzzle the crook of your neck, nose running along the skin like he's scenting you. Both men continue to slide in and out of your slick heat, grunting and groaning like animals as they chase their release.

“You gonna cum for me, baby?” Your boyfriend coos. Scott needs you to cum soon, because he's barely holding on as it is. He doesn't want to leave you unsatisfied – especially now he's very aware Logan will gladly pick up his slack. His hand falls from your hip to make its way between your legs, thumb rubbing circles into your clit until your muscles grow taut. He grins, sucking a possessive mark over one of the hickies Logan had left earlier. Take that, asshole.

Your walls flutter and clench around both cocks as you reach your peak, a shaky moan of Scott's name leaving your lips as your head falls back against Logan's shoulder. Check and mate.

“Hear that, kitty claws? I'm still her favourite.” He huffs out, hands returning to your hips in an almost bruising grip as he ruts helplessly inside your tight heat, balls tightening as his orgasm rapidly approaches.

“S'only ‘cause she's lookin’ at ya, dumbass.” Really, it shouldn't be Logan's gruff, fucked-out tone that drives him over the edge, but it is. He blows his load a second later, forehead dropping against the crook of your neck as he fills you with spurts of hot, white liquid. He gasps against your skin, nails digging into your plush flesh.

Logan isn't far behind, grunting as he forces every inch of his cock deep inside of you, head tipping back as he releases. The tips of his claws threaten to breach the skin of his knuckles, but he manages to suppress them enough that they never fully unsheathe. He pants softly, chest heaving as he thrusts shallowly through his orgasm.

“Fuck.” He hisses, slowly pulling out of you. He lifts you off of Scott's cock, settling you down on the seat of the motorcycle so you can all catch your breath. Logan rubs soothing circles into your back as Scott steps forward, all but slumping against you as he embraces you.

“Did so good, baby. Was perfect.” He breathes out, pressing kisses along your bare shoulder. He pulls back just enough to look at Logan, who's already lighting up a cigar. “The fuck did that even come from?”

That shit-eating grin lights up the older man's face again as he takes a few short draws from the cigar in his mouth. He exhales the smoke, pulling it out of his mouth to speak.

“Trust me, pretty boy. You really don't wanna know.”

[ervotica]

27. kisses for cover at a party with poly!rosekiller. reader goes to evan to get a guy off you, he makes out with you, barty sees and is like "yay i wanna join" and then just devours you

ahhh i love them! poly!rosekiller x fem!reader, college!au ✩ 900 words

You slip beneath the handsome guy at the pub with practiced ease, dipping under his outstretched arm in an attempt to shake your unwelcome admirer of the evening.

To his credit, he doesn't flinch but rather curls his arm round the nape of your neck, tucking you into his shoulder in one fluid movement until you're mostly obscured. He dips his head low enough to murmur in your ear; his voice is like smooth, dark honey.

"Who you hiding from, lovely?"

"This bloke's been following me round all night," you admit, voice high and breathy. "He's still looking, I think. Will you- will you pretend to know me until he goes away?"

He grins and the sight almost blinds you; crinkled eyes and a soft smattering of freckles across his high cheekbones. Miles and miles of brown skin and a curly blonde mop that sits high on his head.

He really is lovely.

And if you'd met him under different circumstances, you'd be nervous for an entirely different reason.

"Consider it done, okay? No need to fret."

He tips his head lower until his nose brushes yours. You hold your breath in anticipation.

"Let's give the prick a show, yeah?"

Your insides flush white-hot as you wait for his lips to make contact. It's a languid sort of kiss, building in intensity as your mystery man flattens his tongue against your bottom lip. He palms at your neck, angling your face upward until you have no choice but to part your lips and let him lick into your mouth, soft and slow and deep.

You push up on your toes - encouraging him closer - and you feel the corners of his mouth tip up even as he indulges your wordless request.

The kiss ebbs and he pulls back. You bite your lip and try to pretend that he didn't just give you the best kiss of your life.

"I'm sorry," you say, cadence twinged with embarrassment. "I don't even know your name."

He smooths the pad of his thumb over your pencil lined eye and smiles, unperturbed. His expression is softer this time, something akin to fondness lingering in his eyes.

"Evan," he murmurs. "And you?"

"Y/N."

A weight settles at your back and you go rigid, pushing back into Evan's space with a startled gasp.

"It's okay, lovely girl," he placates with ease, as though he's known you for much longer than a few minutes. "This is Barty."

This boy is taller – sharper round the edges than Evan, but no less beautiful. His face is shrouded by thick, dark hair that contrasts so heavily with his pale skin it almost looks unnatural.

"Hi, pretty," he coos. "Oh, she is gorgeous, Ev. The gorgeous ones always love you."

"Hi," you almost whisper. You're suddenly even shyer under Barty's fervent gaze, red-hot at his rapt attention.

He folds at the waist and twirls one of your loose curls between his fingers. From here you can smell his breath, mint and vodka and something sweeter that lingers on the tip of his tongue.

He steps closer, right into your space until you're sandwiched snugly between the two of them.

"Do I get a kiss?" he asks, borderline pleading. Intense, for a man you've just met.

Your throat works around a thick swallow and you look down at your feet, suddenly overwhelmingly shy.

"Um..."

"Don't be jealous, babe," Evan placates, a lithe hand massaging teeny circles into your shoulder.

"I find a pretty little thing snogging my boyfriend and I'm supposed to not be jealous?"

You balk. Your eyes gloss over, and wet and wide and painfully apologetic.

"I-I'm sorry, I didn't know. I'm really sorry."

"Shh." Evan loops an arm round your waist and tugs you neatly into his side. "He's teasing. He just wants a kiss, too, if you're willing to give it."

You can't deny that Barty is beautiful – all long, milky limbs and dark features. You nod tentatively.

"Okay."

Evan plants his chin in the juncture of your neck as Barty leans in, long fingers roaming the expanse of your waist with a fervour you've never felt before. Your stomach flips.

Barty's kiss is far more fervid. All tongues and clashing teeth as he angles his head to get more of your mouth on his– as though he wants to eat you whole.

You whine into his mouth when his hand settles on the dip of your spine and presses down, forcing you to arch up into him. There's not a part of you that isn't being touched in some way.

Especially not when Evan trails his lips along your pulse point and begins diligently sucking a bruise under your jaw.

Barty gets you by the nape of your neck and probes his tongue further into your mouth. He's persistent, flicking his tongue behind your front teeth until you gasp and open your mouth wider to grant him more access.

"There's a good girl," Evan says, voice rumbling against your back.

The trail of spit that stretches and bows between the two of you when Barty pulls back to get a good look at you has you feeling faint.

"Can we keep her, Ev?" Barty nuzzles his nose against the soft swell of your cheek.

"What do you say, angel? Can we keep you?"

You're too dazed to answer with more than a nod, curling your own arms around Barty's waist to keep him pressed against you.

[ssahotchnerr]

BAHAH pls i need a fic where ellie’s cockblocking gets to the point where aaron is desperately asking auntie penelope or jj to babysit her and jack for a night.. he would even entrust spencer for a few hours if nobody else was available just for some alone time😫🤭

on hiatus

this concept is so funny i love it cw; mentions of sex (nothing explicit), brief suggestive content, bau teasing aaron, reader referred to as mom, dad!aaron wc; 1k

"Can't you ask?"

"Well, I could." Aaron's gaze shot to the side, through the blinds and down into the bullpen.

"It wouldn't hurt, right? Because I don't know about you, but I can't wait another night." You exhaled, a slight buzzing effect coming through the phone as a result.

"I'm right there with you." Aaron admitted, resisting the urge to squirm in his seat. "I'm seconds away from reinstalling that damn crib."

"So ask. Anyways, I gotta go. Jack will be home soon, and I should get Ellie up so she does sleep tonight."

Aaron chuckled softly, his eyes finding the family photo framed on his desk. "Why does it not surprise me that for nap time, she'll stay in her bed."

"Stubborn. Just like her father."

After saying goodbye to you, Aaron exited his office, heading to where JJ, Penelope and Derek were all congregating. Their eyes rose as he approached.

"What brings you down here?" JJ asked, using her feet to twist her chair back and forth. "We're not dawdling, I swear."

He brushed past her playful - and untrue - comment. "Need a favor."

Brief distress flashed on Derek's face. "If it requires more paperwork, just give it to Reid."

Like you had said, there was no harm in asking. "It has nothing to do with paperwork. Just in need of a babysitter for tonight."

Penelope's hand shot up, eyes brightening. "Me."

"Big Friday night eh?" Derek wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. "What's on the agenda, where the two of you headin'?"

"Nowhere." Aaron shrugged nonchalantly, a smidge of embarrassment heating his face. He was hoping he could persuade with minimal details. "It'll only be for a few hours. We just need them out of the house."

"Oh," JJ smirked after a moment, accompanied with a touch of sympathy. Out of all people, she would understand. "I see."

Aaron met her eyes, keeping his face still but with subtle pleading, hoping she'd tune into it. One that read: I'm begging you not to elaborate.

They were adults. It wasn't a topic of taboo. He just wasn't just too partial on openly discussing his sex life with his colleagues. Doesn't matter how long he's known them.

"Need some, mommy and daddy time, don't you?"

Aaron's stern expression continued to linger, but gradually softened in confirmation. He was tired; tired of waiting and being on the brink.

"No wonder you've been so grumpy."

Aaron shot Morgan a look, before stating his case. "Ellie's out of her crib now. She's learned that the world still continues to go on past bedtime."

"She's out of her crib?" Penelope aww'ed, her bottom lip pouting in bittersweetness.

"And comes into our room," Aaron paused, "every night."

For the first few nights, Ellie had stayed put; the excitement and newness of it all enough to keep her in bed. However, it didn't take long for her to realize she could simply, get up.

She'd come into the living room - you'd usher her back into bed. Jack would come out a while later, complaining Ellie had gone into his room and awoken him - Aaron's turn to return her to bed.

Then came the excuses. She needed water (a sippy cup was given to her, and told this meant she had to go to sleep now). She wanted to watch a movie and "cuddle, please?" It took everything in Aaron to decline, especially after she played up the sweetness in her big, brown eyes.

You'd think after all that, she'd exhausted herself, but no. Next came her crawling into bed with the two of you.

That's where the matter currently stood. She didn't want to sleep in her new big girl bed, but rather, the big bed. Right in the middle, snug between the two of you, and keeping your plans on hiatus.

The next night, you had thought you were in the clear. But sure enough, the second Aaron was straddled atop you, his lips trailing your skin and leaving you breathless, did little footsteps make their way down the hall. Aaron would roll off you instead, supporting himself on an elbow, while you laid there defeatedly, anticipating the opening of your bedroom door.

And again the following night, the same occurrence of events. Admittedly it's been a while since the two of you have been intimate, due to a certain toddler and cases taking Aaron out of town.

Derek laughed, "She's a little menace. I love that kid."

Aaron sighed, both his frustration and need only growing more. His voice wavered on the desperate side, "So can one of you? Please. Just a few hours is all I'm asking."

"I'd be happy to relieve you two. For a full night even, Henry and Michael would love to have Jack and Ellie sleepover." JJ offered, and Aaron internally let out a deep sigh of relief. "Will and I have been there, I get it."

"I-"

"And Aunt Penelope can come too, don't worry." JJ interrupted Penelope with a smile, reaching over and giving her hand a gentle tap.

"I'd- We'd appreciate it. Thank you." Aaron's shoulders dropped, and he could already feel the tension leaving his body. A rush of energy swept through him too, anticipating the delightfully, now long, night ahead. He could not wait to get home.

His thoughts were put on hold when he noticed the glint in JJ's eyes.

"And so you can relieve yourself."

Derek cackled while Aaron rolled his eyes, turning away from the group to hide his smile.

"Just let me know what time you want them over."

[guiltyasdave]

like snow on the beach

pairing: Javier Peña x f!reader

word count: ~2.8k

summary: You're on a work trip with your boss, who you don't like and who you're convinced doesn't like you either. Unfortunately, there's only one bed.

tags/warnings: only one bed trope (ayyyy), fluff, idiots in love, alternating povs, reader has hair that drips down her neck after showering at one point but there are no texture or color descriptors, able-bodied reader, no use of y/n, my nonexistent knowledge of colombian geography which i'm asking you to ignore for the sake of this silly story THANK YOU

a/n: my entry for the summer lovin' challenge brought to us by queens @pedgito, @chaotic-mystery and @amanitacowboy <3 i got the moodboard you see in the header and the location by the water. i'm also posting a little early but i'm too excited and it's almost midnight here so i think it's gonna be fine hehe

biggest love to @sizzlingcloudmentality who held my hand through writing this and patiently listened to all my complaints lol. i love drinking more caffeine than pedro and writing with you while getting distracted by cats <3

dividers by @plum98!

find my full masterlist here and follow @guiltyasdavenotifs to get notified when i post a new fic :)

You’re hot, too hot. 

It’s disorienting, as you blink awake, slow to get your bearings. Arms are wrapped around you, caging you in, engulfing you in the warmth of the body pressed against your back. Hot air is fanning against your neck, accompanied by a scratching sensation on the sensitive skin. 

Your surroundings are unfamiliar, faded wallpaper in an unappealing shade of green and light filtering in through the battered up blinds. It comes back to you in pieces, the motel you’re staying at, the small Colombian town where you’re hoping to get a hold of one of the Cali cartel men. 

The obnoxious scent of Peña’s aftershave is flooding your nostrils, paired with the traces of tobacco that follow him everywhere he goes. It’s honestly embarrassing, how easily you recognize it.

It clicks into place now. The arms around you, the warmth. The scratch that you now realize is his mustache as he’s breathing against your neck.

You start wriggling around, causing the man behind you to stir, a confused groan coming out slightly muffled, his mouth still so close to your skin. He lets go of you after a second, allowing you to turn around and glare at him. 

His face is already forming his signature annoyed scowl, an expression that you’re more than well acquainted with.

“What the hell are you doing?!” 

He sounds different like this, voice still thick with sleep, a hint of the disorientation that you’ve shaken off by now. 

“What am I doing? I woke up with your arms around me, Peña.” 

He blinks, shifting to sit up and lean against the headboard. You mirror him, putting as much space between you as the rather small bed frame allows. 

“Sorry,” he allows after a beat, running a hand through his hair, tousling the mess of black strands that has formed in his sleep. “That wasn’t… appropriate. I apologize.” 

If you weren’t as annoyed right now, you’d probably think that he looks adorable like this. The you from a few months ago would most likely go wild at seeing Javier Peña right after waking up, after he held you in his arms no less. 

The you from a few months ago hadn’t experienced what an asshole of a boss he could be yet, hadn’t been taken off investigations again and again, because Peña thought you weren’t ready. She also hadn’t heard about his terrible reputation with women, hadn’t been subjected to all the office gossip that surrounded him yet. 

Now, after days of practically begging him to take you along on this trip because the whole investigation was based on information that you had gathered, you’re stuck in this motel room with him. Something about your booking of two single rooms accidentally having been processed as one double room, with no other rooms available because of course there weren’t. 

Peña had offered to sleep on the ground, or in the car, but you had waved him off, thinking about how often he had complained how his back was getting worse the older he got on the drive here. You hadn’t expected to wake up to him all but wrapped around you. 

Maybe a small, very small part of you is still going wild about it. A part that you can easily swallow down though. He’s objectively attractive, yes. Doesn’t change the fact that he’s an asshole.

“Just forget it,” you mumble, heat rising belatedly in your cheeks. Gathering your clothes for the day, you flee to the bathroom, eager to wash the whole decidedly weird situation off your body and out of your mind. You’re here because you have a job to do, not to get flustered around your boss. 

When you reemerge, wet strands of your hair dripping down your neck, he’s already dressed, clasping his hands in a way that almost seems nervous. If you weren’t pretty convinced that Javier Peña isn’t physically able to get nervous. 

“I– I’m really sorry,” he repeats, raising from the worn down arm chair he’s been sitting in. “I didn’t mean to put you in an uncomfortable position. I’m not– I’m not exactly used to sharing a bed.”

A scoff leaves you at that. Sure, Agent Peña, who’s notorious for sleeping with his informants and with at least half of the female staff of the American embassy, isn’t used to sharing his bed. 

“Don’t worry about it, Peña.” 

You turn away before he can reply, collecting your notes on the investigation that you hope will come in helpful eventually. You don’t catch the remorseful look in his eyes, or the way they linger on you as you open the door, the early morning light illuminating your figure.

It’s another day filled with nothing but waiting and growing frustration, just like the one before. The sun is beating down on the car that you’re occupying, the heat suffocating even with the windows rolled down and the cool bottle of water that you’re pressing against your neck.

Minutes tick by, turning into hours that go by too quickly and seem to last forever at the same time. Peña is surprisingly quiet, not goading you in the way you had expected him to. 

“Maybe the information was bad,” you mumble eventually, sinking deeper into the car seat. The leather is sticking uncomfortably to your skin and you can’t shake the growing feeling that you’ve insisted on coming out here for nothing.

He slowly turns his head in your direction, regarding you through the dark tint of his aviators. 

“I looked at it. We wouldn’t be here if it was bad.” 

You huff, your patience running short and shorter at the subtle indication of his superiority, his quiet arrogance, always so fucking sure of himself.

“You weren’t exactly thrilled about coming here, remember?”

He raises a brow, a hint of impatience on his own features.

“I wasn’t thrilled about you coming here.” 

You roll your eyes, openly scowling at him now. 

“It’s my intel.”

“Doesn’t make it less dangerous, does it?” 

Biting your lip, you force your blood to not boil over. He’s still your boss, at the end of the day, someone you probably shouldn’t start cussing out, no matter how openly he underestimates you and how badly it annoys you. And you’re gonna have to share that wretched bed with him again tonight. 

Javier watches your face, watches you swallow down your anger, watches your teeth digging into your plush bottom lip. He understands your frustration, understands that no part of this trip is turning out the way you expected it to. 

You’re still new to the workfield, not yet experienced with the hours upon hours of waiting, more often than not without a satisfying result to show for it. If he’s being honest with himself, he isn’t mad about it this time. He’ll rather have you frustrated than in danger. 

You want to prove yourself, you’ve made that abundantly clear. You work hard, determined to bring in results, hungry for praise. It’s not that he doesn’t see that, doesn’t think that you’re capable. But he’s seen enough, enough injuries, enough psychological trauma, enough deaths, to know that he wants you far away from that side of your work. 

Even if that means you’re angry at him more often than not, a glint of bitterness in your eyes every time he refuses to send you out yet again. 

After another few hours, accompanied by the increasing rumbling in both your stomachs, he finally calls it quits for the day. 

“We can drive back to Bogotá tomorrow,” he quietly offers on the way back to the motel, after picking up food for the both of you and refusing to let you pay for your share. “Gather more information, see why we didn’t find anything.”

You huff in return, irritated about the whole situation. The one chance you had to convince him to take you seriously, and this is what you get. “Fine,” you agree, gritting your teeth. Maybe your intel was bad. Maybe you just aren’t that good at your job.

“Keep to your side of the bed tonight,” you grumble later, after the bored woman at the reception told you that there still aren't any other rooms available. 

“Of course,” he sighs, sliding under the covers with the biggest possible distance from you.

You nod, closing your eyes and willing for sleep to take you, but it’s a losing game. You toss and turn, feeling both too hot and too cold at the same time, unable to find a comfortable position and to get the voices in your head to shut up. 

When you roll over yet again, his voice rings through the dark, somewhat agitatedly asking what’s wrong. 

“Nothing,” comes your frustrated reply, pressing your face deeper into the cushion, your eyes squeezed shut. After a few more breaths and zero sign of your brain slowing down, you turn towards him, only able to make out his silhouette in the dark. Your judgment is probably hazy with how tired you are, but the words are out of your mouth before you can think them over.

“Can I ask you a question, Agent Peña?” 

“Javier is fine.” 

Your heart gives a tiny flutter, despite your conflicted feelings about him, despite the question that you’re about to ask. 

“Why do you not like me?” 

It’s inappropriate, especially right now, lying in the dark and sharing a fucking bed with him. But you think that if you don’t ask now, you probably never will, and you need to know. 

“Why would you think that I don’t like you?” 

You huff, squinting at him. “It’s pretty obvious. You don’t trust my work, you never send me to go out, dismiss my intel most of the time–” 

It’s silent for a long time, safe for his quiet breaths. 

“That’s not–” He sighs deeply, turning his head towards you as well. “That’s not true. You’re making it about yourself when you shouldn’t. I treat you exactly like your colleagues, you’re the one taking it personal.” 

It’s curt, dismissive. Laced with carefully feigned indifference, bordering on coldness. Too carefully. You didn’t think he’d lie to you if you asked him this directly, but here you are. 

Blinking back angry tears, you roll onto your back again, unseeingly staring at the ceiling. You don’t understand why it hits you like this. You’ve had shitty bosses before, far worse than Peña. You’ve just never wanted them to like you the way you want him to. 

“Good night, Agent Peña.” You turn onto your other side, your back towards him. 

“Good night,” comes his solemn reply. 

You don’t wake up with his arms around you again, thankfully, but he hasn’t exactly kept to his side of the bed either. One hand is curled over your shoulder, like he had to reach out and hold onto you in his sleep. 

You’re the one taking it personal. 

Clearly he hasn’t been reaching for you specifically. It’s probably just second nature for him, something that usually goes well with the women sharing his bed. 

You’re able to shake his hold off without waking him up, something that you’re grateful for. 

When he wakes and repeats how he thinks you should abandon the investigation, you don’t argue. It’s a quiet affair, packing up and getting ready to leave. 

Sitting in the driver’s seat, he turns to you, his brow furrowed into that moody expression you’ve gotten used to. “I’ve been thinking,” he begins, eyeing you warily. “We’re not far from the ocean right now. Have you been to the beach since you came to Colombia?” 

You raise an eyebrow in mild suspicion, curious where he’s going with this. 

“I haven’t been out of Bogotá since I landed there. But–” 

His eyes grow softer, his hand twitching like he almost reached out towards you. 

“No buts. At least then it won’t have been a total waste of time to come here, right?” 

The dig towards you, towards the reason you drove all the way out here for nothing isn’t lost on you. You don’t have it in you to argue against it, so you just nod, staring straight ahead. 

Javier realizes how badly you misunderstood his words as soon as they’re out of his mouth and he sees your face. He doesn’t know how he consistently manages to fuck up his interactions with you like this. It’s not him, the blundering, the words constantly coming out all wrong, but you make him nervous in a way that he hasn’t experienced in years. 

He starts driving, hopeful to somehow still be able to turn this trip around. There’s a whole day on the road ahead of them, and he’d much rather spend those hours without feeling like he’s made you hate him. 

You do soften at the sight of the ocean, the sound of waves rolling against the shore having a soothing effect almost instantly. It’s beautiful, the water a brilliant blue, the sun glittering on the surface. You can’t be mad right now, not even at Javier, who’s keeping his distance, letting you wander along the shore by yourself. 

You focus on taking in the scenery, hoping to somehow take it with you to when you’re back in your bleak, government issued apartment, staring at the vastness of gray buildings that is of Bogotá. 

When you turn back to him, his eyes are already on you, less tense, more open than you’re used to. You don’t know how long they’ve been lingering on you, how little attention he had been paying to the nature surrounding you. How good it had felt, to see you like this, without the usual distaste in your face that you have come to regard him with most of the time. The silhouette of you against the bright sky, your skin glowing under the beaming sun. 

“Thank you,” you say, actually smiling at him. A spark of warmth grows in his chest. “This was a good idea, I– I enjoyed it.” 

“I’m glad.” He eagerly returns the smile, allows himself to reach out and graze one finger against the soft skin of your hand. Finding himself unable to stop touching you, now that he’s had a taste of it.

Confusion crosses your face before you quickly avert your eyes, but you don’t pull away. It gives him a sliver of hope, that maybe you’re starting to understand what he doesn’t know how to tell you. 

After a mostly quiet drive back, both of you too exhausted to talk much, Javier drops you off at your apartment, his hand once again hovering over yours before you get out. 

“Good night,” he breathes, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. After a moment of hesitation, he continues on. “You– you’re doing good work. Don’t beat yourself up over this, okay?” 

You manage a nod, murmuring thank you, Javier before opening the car door and stepping out onto your street, illuminated by the glow of yellow lights. You only realize that you used his first name by the time that your apartment door falls shut behind you. It doesn’t bother you as much as you thought it would. 

Breathing in the familiar scent of your own place, a deep relief washes over you, reveling in the knowledge that you’re gonna sleep in your own bed tonight, alone. You turn on your shower, eager to let the warm water soothe your muscles, stiff from spending the entire day in a car. 

When you exit the bathroom, wrapped into a towel and with a cloud of steam accompanying you, your answering machine is blinking. You press the button to let the message play, moving through your apartment to put on your comfiest sleepwear and ready to fall straight into bed. 

You stop in your tracks when Javier’s voice rings through the room, tripping over the words in a way that’s difficult to associate with the calm, self-assured man that you know. 

“Hey, it’s Javier. You– you’re probably showering, or already asleep. I just– I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings these past days, or– or any day, really. I wanted you to know that. You’re good at what you do, you really are, but– I worry about you, I guess. And I know that I shouldn’t, that I shouldn’t treat you differently. It’s– it’s not because I don’t like you. I like you too much, if anything, and– and now I know what it’s like to sleep next to you, and– anyway, I’m– shit, I’m making a fool of myself. Just– just call me back. Please.”

Your hand finds your phone as soon as the recording ends.

thank you for reading! as always, reblogs, comments and asks are love and absolutely make my day <3

[samonroegf]

good teachers create good students

when you, a virgin, have to have a sex scene with hayden christensen, he shows you what a good orgasm can truly feel like, in preparation for your scene together.

costar!hayden christensen x actor!virgin!f!reader, smut, fluff, age gap, dad kink, oral (f receiving), creampie, reader is 19/20ish, hayden is late 30s, dddne?

requested by anon! ᝰ masterlist

you sat nervously in your trailer, reading over the script multiple times. this would be your first time filming a sex scene, cold sweat crawled up your back. trying to keep yourself in a somewhat good mood, you shake your head trying to physically shake away the thoughts.

a knock on your trailer door pulls you out of your brain's endless cycle. walking the few steps to the door, your breath is almost taken from you. hayden christensen, your partner actor, stood mere inches from you.

you would never admit this even being tortured, but truth be told, he was one of the main reasons you choose this role. he was a phenomenal actor, and he was quite pretty to look at. your cheeks burn just thinking about it.

you smiled nicely at the older man, who wore an equal expression.

“hey! what's up?” a cheery expression, as you spoke. you bit your check, hoping it's not too noticeable. your mind was reeling just with having him in front of you. being a kid that grew up on television, you'd always been aware of hayden. he was like that dream man, that you never have a chance with.

“just wanted to come check on you, tomorrow's shooting will be a little grueling. you think you're up for it?” he chuckled, and the sound went straight to your stomach. you just step aside allowing the taller man to enter your small trailer.

he sat in a booth with you by the window, the sun shining like gold on his light hair. you'd hoped you looked equally enchanting.

“honestly,” you dragged out the word, mindlessly scratching your arm where no itch resided.

“i’ve never actually had sex, or like an orgasm so I'm not sure I'll be too good.” his aura just made you want to talk to him, you wanted to curse him for being so inviting. your cheeks warmed again, mentally chiding yourself for telling him this at all.

hayden’s eyebrows shot up in surprise, but he tried to get it under control. he couldn't understand how you'd never been touched, it's been hell trying to hold back and be professional. you shot him an embarrassed smile and looked out the window.

“i can help you,” he offered, but from the look on his face you were sure he didn't mean to actually say that. a nervous giggle slipped from your lips and now it was your eyebrows that were almost in your hairline.

“oh?” you weren't sure what to say, you weren't even totally sure that this wasn't some fever dream. you pinched your leg under the table just to check, it hurt, this is very real.

he leaned back into the seat, allowing his eyes to gaze over you. you were somewhere between hazy with lust, and feeling totally exposed.

“yeah, you're a cute little thing, helps you and helps me.” it was like he was being possesed by a man touch starved. maybe he was. there was a dark glimmer in his eyes, like a shark right under the water getting ready to attack..

it made you nervous and excited. you couldn't help but squirm under his watchful stare.

“oh, um, that would be great.” you couldn't keep eye contact with him, your gaze dropping down to your fidgeting hands. unsure of what to do next. you hoped you looked more composed then you felt.

you watched hayden as he moved, getting up to lock the door and close the blinds. he would be damned if someone was going to interrupt the two of you. he is thanking whatever god out there that this opportunity was brought to him.

he came back to you, just smiling somewhere between sweet and sinister. his hand comes to hold your cheek, he was so kind and yet you knew that probably wouldn't last long. another excitingly fearful wave passes through you.

you couldn't help but lean into his touch, humming contently. you guys had been here for months working on this film together. you'd become work buddies, always cracking up on set. now you knew there was no way that it would go back to that.

big eyes look up at him, and he has to look away to keep himself in control. there would be time for rough fucking later, he wants you to know how beautiful you are. can't let your first time go to waste.

“c’mere,” he leads you to the bed on the other side of the trailer. the bed was perfectly made, almost makes him want to laugh. you're such a good girl.

you were basically dumb in his presence, something that doesn't go by unnoticed. he loves how flustered he makes you, maybe he shouldn't but it boosts his ego.

you followed his lead to the bed, coming to sit right next to him. you're somewhere between fainting and vomitting, because you're here in bed with hayden christensen and you can't say anything.

“don’t be nervous, doll, I'll be so nice to you. but you gotta talk to me here. i have to have your consent.” he obviously knew you wanted this or you wouldn't have followed him like a lovesick puppy. verbal consent above all else, especially with you being so much younger than him.

“i want this, i actually don't think I've ever wanted anything more.” it sounded more like begging, than a statement. hayden's cock hardened against his pants, and he muttered, “fuck” under his breath. a playful smirk now played at his lips.

“using your words like a good girl,” his voice was so gentle and soft like a love confession, rather than dirty talk. a whine escaped your lips, you'd never been looked at like this, and especially not talked to like this. your body felt like it was on fire, and hayden is the only fire extinguisher for miles.

words aren't needed at this moment, he just helps you lay down. coming to lay beside you, his fingers drifting over your exposed midriff.

“i’m gonna kiss you now, okay?” his words are so soft and gentle, if you didn't know any better you'd think you were in a romance novel.

“please.” you're pleading and he hasn't even touched you yet, the way he's been looking at you makes you feel like there's a million exposed wires replacing your nerves.

“you're gonna be the death of me, baby.” he chuckles lowly and dark, his lips met yours, soft and hard all at once. his kisses are gentle, slowly coaxing open your lips to let his tongue explore your mouth. he groans into the kiss, and it makes you whimper.

your fingers clutch at him, pulling him closer if that were even possible. he can't help but smile into the kiss. you're so needy and innocent, he can't help but think about how sweet you must taste.

he seperates from you, allowing you to catch your breath. you're flushed, and the lust flowing theough you is almost unbearable.

“please, hayden, need.” you're so dumb with want, not a single coherent thought in your head.

“seems little girl needs to learn some patience.” he speaks into your neck, lightly biting and kissing on the skin.

“hayden,” you're whining, your thighs rubbing together on their own accord, trying anything to get some friction, something to alleviate the pain of need.

he kisses down your body, shedding of your outfit, one piece of clothing at a time. his lips enevlope around your nipples, little sighs falling from your lips like prayers. hayden wasn't sure he'd ever grow tired of the sounds.

he moved down, slowly pulling your bottoms down. almost like he was trying to torture you, or at least that's how it makes you feel. in reality, he's trying to savor every inch of creamy skin.

he finally comes face to face with your cunt. if you weren't so lost in his touch, you might've been nervous. however his hungry eyes make you feel wanted, beautiful.

“i just need one favor, baby,” his voice barely above a whisper, like he was afriad of your answer.

“anything, whatever you want, I'm yours.” you breathed out, a sultry tone in your words. you'd never heard yourself sound like that, it almost makes you wanna hide.

he tugs his lip betwen his teeth, just for a second before letting it go.

“call me daddy, okay? think you can do that for me?” you were quick to nod. you were probably going to do it anyway, but something about the way he asked made it so much hotter.

“words, baby.” his voice has a warning tone to it, and you almost wanted to push and see what he'd do. you weren't in a place to be able to do that right now.

“yes, daddy.” your voice shook a little as you spoke, the anxious energy seeping back into your bones.

“good girl,” he kissed your happy trail, all the way down until he was mere inches from your slit.

he licked up a stripe and you were about cry from sense of relief. his tongue slipping around your clit, his touch too much and not enough all at once. you were squirming under him, he tsked you. moving his arms under your thighs to hold you in place.

“let daddy take his time, angel, i promise you'll come soon enough.” his voice was low and you were sure you could come from that alone if he just kept talking.

“sorry,” you're wearing a sheepish smile, hiding your face in your arms. one of his hands coming to bring them down, holding both of your hands in his one.

“don’t hide, i wanna see you.” he's rubbing your knuckles comfortingly. it helps ease some of the tension, your body relaxing.

“there you are, now stay still as you can for me, yeah? and don't you dare hide those little noises from me.” you hum in accordance.

he pays more attention to your pussy now. his tongue dipping in and out of your core, wrapping his lips around your clit. eliciting whines and moans from your ‘o’ shaped lips.

he inserts a single finger, and the combination of his finger thrusting in and out of fo you and his lips attacking clit makes you come undone. shaking and crying as you come, he just looks at you with a smile.

“you look so beautiful,” his voice brings you out of the teance the orgasm sent you in. you give him a playful smile, completely in awe of the man before you.

“can you give me another one? need to fill you up, baby. can you take it?” can you take it? the words echo in your mind, almost like a challenge. you were determined to show him that you could and would take it.

“of course, i can,” you push up on your arms to actually look at him, it makes him smirk at your attitude.

it doesn't take him but a few moments to get undressed, and then he's stretching your walls with his fingers. preparing your hole for his girthy cock.

“daddy, hurry.” you pout, needing to fill him all the way. determination replaced by need.

“do you want it to hurt? cause i can stuff you full, but I don't want to hear any crying.” he's becoming a little impatient with her attitude, the soft, gentle man replaced by a wolf.

the way he spoke, and the look on his face makes you giggle, a giggle that's from the need to keep pushing those buttons.

his left eyebrow arched at your little outburst, “i want to be gentle with you for your first time, but you're making that really hard, doll.” curiosity piqued, you had to see what kind of roughness he'd give you.

“then let go,” you smiled oh-so innocently at him, and he couldn't take it anymore. an almost animalistic growl tears its way from this throat. with a few strokes of his cock, he was pushing into you.

the stretch was deliciously stinging, and you weren't sure if you liked it or not. but getting to see hayden above you, tongue poking out as he does his best to stay still. he's not a monster, he doesn't actually want to hurt you, unless that's what you want. tears streaming down your face. he tsks you again, “what did i say?” his hand comes to wipe away the tears and you lean into his touch once more.

“move, please move,” you're whining, squirming and wiggling. he thought he could get used to this sight, his little girl just needing to be split by his cock.

“what's the magic word?” his tone was playful and teasing, you almost want to bite it out of him.

you thought for a moment, what would probably get the most of a reaction out of him. so still pouting, and now batting your eyelashes at him, “daddy, i need you to ruin me.” your tone was genuine, you needed it and you needed it now.

what little bit of control hayden had left, has dissipated from those seven little words. he's grabbing your hips pulling them up to meet his. fingertips diggin harsh into your flesh, and he pistons in and out of you.

“fuck, doll, you're so tight. your cunt was basically made f’ my cock. taking me so well.” the pain has subsided, and all you can think about is the waves of pleasure being brought you by a man 10 years older than you.

“mm, daddy, so good, so full, love daddy’s cock, love it so much.” you're babbling, dumb and incoherent, unable to think about anything other than his member bullying your insides.

his hips are twitching and you can tell that he's getting close. you slip a hand down to your clit to rub little circles on the bud, but you're almost immediately stopped. one hand, now wrapped around your waist as he fucks into you. the other one holding your wrist, “let me do all the work, princess, just wanna make you feel good.”

his tone was indecipherable, but you nodded dumbly, letting him attack your clit. you can feel your muscles contracting, that familiar knot forming in your stomach.

“gonna come, daddy, gonna come, dad.” you're rambling again and it's making hayden feel sick in the best way possible.

“where you want it, baby?” he's always asking for permission, nose nuzzling into your neck taking in the scent of your sweat.

“inside, please, inside, please. want all of you, please.” he's smiling down at you again, not that you can see, your eyes rolling back in your head as your body begins to convulse.

“gonna fill you up so good, angel.” his hips stutter one last time, and you can feel his cum feeling up your cunt, it just makes you more sensitive.

you both fall to the bed, out of breath and hayden is laughing. if you weren't in such a daze, you'd ask him what was up.

“damn, doll, that's the best sex I've had in a while, you did so good.” he's laying on his side, leaned up. nimble fingers pushing your hair out of your face. mumbling little conpliments as you regain composure.

“well, i think it's safe to say, I'll know exactly what to do tomorrow.” you giggled and he agreed with a hum. he pressed a kiss to your forehead, then nose, both cheeks and finallly your lips. soft and scattered kisses pepper across your skin and you giggle at him.

he gets up grabbing a bottle of water and some washrags to clean you up. easily manhandling you to wipe down your whole body from sweat, and gently collecting the cum that's cascading out of you. you wince from sensitively and he apologizes, pressing a kiss to your tummy.

he hands you the water and watches as you down the entire bottle, “i think I'd like to do this again sometime.”

[togenabi]

pick me up

roronoa zoro (opla) x reader

♡—zoro never paid your jokes or pickup lines any mind. that is, until something happens that makes you stop.

word count♡— 3.2k

genre♡— mild angst, fluff, straw hat!reader

content notes♡— opla zoro, fem!reader, reader wears a dress and tells very bad jokes, creepy dude oc, don't be creepy be cool yall, reader pulls off a heist with nami, zoro gets jealous, alcohol consumption, no use of y/n, barely proofread

also on♡— ao3

author's note♡— this is a request from anon! I'm sorry if I tweaked a few things, I'm not the best at angst hhhh I hope you still like it!

“Okay, okay. Wait. I got it this time.” You say, already trying to keep from laughing. 

“Why were the kids having trouble in pirate class?”

Zoro only side-eyes you with his arms crossed, vehemently unimpressed. 

“Because they were overbored!” 

Watching for his reaction intently, you keep your eyes focused on his face... Nothing changes. 

You tsk, but aren’t seriously discouraged. This is how he always reacts to your jokes, after all. “I’ll get you one of these days, Roronoa Zoro.”

The swordsman only sighs, leaning back into his seat to take a nap. “You do that.”

“Don’t listen to him, love.” Sanji says from the other side of the kitchen as he cleans the counter. “I thought that joke was good.”

“You’re lying, but I appreciate the sentiment, Sanji.” You grin at him. Focusing back on the book you were reading, you miss the amused, challenging look Sanji sends Zoro.

Everyone hears Luffy approaching the kitchen before he enters. “Guys!” He bellows. “We’ll be reaching land soon. Be ready to leave in fifteen minutes!”

The majority of the day is spent restocking supplies. You were all split up into pairs, but before you left, Luffy pointed to a restaurant with a flashy, illuminated sign on top that reads: ‘Bistro of Light’. How cringey of them.

“We should meet there for dinner! You don’t mind taking a break, right, Sanji?” Luffy asks eagerly, and you think that no one could say no to him when he’s so enthusiastic. Sanji nods, and you all go through the town until the sun starts to set.

The inside of the restaurant is just as ridiculous as the sign outside. Chandeliers of every color hang on the ceiling. Huge fish tanks and fountains lined with lights almost blind you. You laugh when looking at it all causes Zoro to wince. 

“Hey Zoro,” You call for him. “You know what’s faster than the speed of light?”

“...”

“My heartbeat when I think of you!” You wink at him, proud of the joke even when he only sighs and looks away.

Usopp walks up to a receptionist standing behind a desk. “Hey. Table for six, if you would be so kind.”

“I’m afraid we’re at full capacity at the moment.” They respond. “You’ll have to wait, is that alright?”

Everyone shares a look. Except for Luffy, who looks dead set on eating here, you all feel unsure about waiting.

“When’s the next table going to be available?” Usopp asks. “We’re actually a really big deal. It’s gonna be really embarrassing for you guys if you don’t let us in.” The person frowns, face screaming, ���is this guy serious’?

But before they can reply, a booming voice enters the restaurant. A tall man, dressed in a pristine white suit and wearing jewels on every finger, pushes you out of the way to yell at the receptionist. You stumble, but thankfully Zoro is there to catch you.

“What on earth is going on here?! Why are there so many people crowding the entryway?!” He fumes, angrily gesturing to your group. 

“If they’re not going to eat, then I strongly suggest—” The rich man freezes suddenly, his eyes trained on you.

You keep your face as emotionless as possible, but you die laughing inside when Nami swipes a brooch from his jacket while he’s distracted with you.

“Ah,” The man says. His tone softening a considerable amount as he walks over to you. “I thought I had the best jewels in my treasury, but you're the most radiant gem I've ever laid my eyes on.” It takes everything in you to not back away. Zoro tenses beside you.

“Why haven’t these guests been guided to a table?” He asks, turning back to the receptionist.

“We’re at full capacity, Sir.” Oh. He must own the place. It makes sense that the owner is as gaudy as everything else in here.

“That won’t do.” He looks back to you, and you swear you could feel your skin crawl under his gaze. 

“I am Helios. Welcome to my establishment.” The man introduces himself with a flourish, bowing to you. His jewels and gold accessories glint in the light. “What might your name be?”

Reluctantly, you introduce yourself. Had this been a normal situation, you would have turned around and walked away from him the second he saw you. But, you could feel the crew going hungry, and you’re sure Nami will want to snag another ring or two—so you play nice.

Helios smiles, repeating your name. He was probably trying to sound romantic, but he’s not doing anything for you. Not when Zoro says your name much better.

You keep Zoro’s voice in mind, remembering how nice it sounds. It’s easier to smile at Helios that way. Time to lay on the charm, “I was really looking forward to having dinner here. I don’t suppose you could help us out?”

“Follow me, my dear. You deserve to dine upstairs. The view is simply spectacular at this hour.” Helios holds out his hand to you, but Luffy—bless his soul—grabs it to shake it zealously.

“Thanks so much for letting us eat here, Mr. Helios!” Luffy claps him on the back. Helios looks dumbfounded, and the crew does an impressive job keeping their composure. 

Helios tries to walk beside you as he guides you all upstairs, but Zoro is steadfast on your right, and Nami smartly positions herself on your left. Luffy and Usopp tug the restaurant owner along, chatting his ear off. You almost feel bad for him. 

Nami murmurs, her voice carefully silent so only you can hear. “Treasury, huh?”

You smile. “Of course you’d be curious about that.”

“Think you could get us to his mansion?” She dares you, eyes aglow at the promise of a good heist.

“I know I can.” You pause walking to check your reflection on an ornate, sun-shaped mirror. After fixing your hair, you grin at your friends. “I’m irresistible, after all.”

Maybe if you weren’t busy buttering up your host, you would have noticed that Zoro wasn’t eating properly. Normally, you would force him to eat. You would pile food on his plate, telling that joke about fake noodles being impasta that always cracks you up.

Zoro frowns at the meal in front of him. The fish seems to frown back. Sighing, he decides to just order another drink. But no matter what he consumes, a bitter taste always blooms in his mouth afterwards. 

The glass in his hand almost cracks when he hears your voice sucking up to Helios again. “So, you own this place? Do you live around here?”

Helios leans far too close towards you, but you grin and bear it. “Would you like a private tour, my gem?”

You place a hand on his arm, he may read it as affection, but you hold him so he keeps that distance. “That sounds wonderful.”

Zoro huffs under his breath. He needs another drink. 

Thankfully, Helios serves good booze at his manor. Zoro almost didn’t want to drink any of it, but he needs alcohol in his system if he has to watch you flirt with this idiot so Nami can rob him blind. Whatever she steals better be worth all this, or else he might punch something. Or someone. Preferably Helios.

You share a look with Nami and give her an imperceptible nod. With that signal, she passes by and pretends to lose her footing. Wine seeps into your clothes, staining the fabric and sticking it to your skin. Did she really have to pick red wine? You liked this shirt.

“Oh, my dear!” Helios gasps. “You should get cleaned up. I’ll have my servants draw you a bath and bring you fresh clothes.”

“I’m so sorry, I should’ve watched where I was going.” Nami loops her arm through yours. “Let me help you with that.” 

And so, with another fake smile sent Helios’ way, you rush with Nami to find the treasury.

“Be quick.” Nami says once you enter the luxurious bathroom prepared for you. 

As tempting as the bubble bath is, you only take a few wet towels to tidy up. You step into the curtained area, about to strip when Nami holds out a hand to stop you.

“Wait.” She says, her tone serious. A teddy bear holding a rose is propped up on a shelf behind you. Tapping its eyes, Nami scowls before throwing the bear into the trash bin.

“A camera?” She nods. “Seriously? What a creep.”

You and Nami inspect the room. It’s not clear if there are other hidden cameras, but she stands guard in front of the shower curtains just in case.

“Hey,” She starts. “Did you notice Zoro acting weird tonight?”

You frown as you change into the dress Helios prepared. “What do you mean?”

Nami hums in thought. “He’s just…” A dumbass, she wants to say, but doesn’t. “He seems extra grumpy.”

That causes you to laugh. “I guess I should prepare more jokes for him when we get back.”

She winces. “...I’m not that sure he likes those.”

“Hm… Maybe not, but,” You pause to think. He may not laugh loudly as Luffy does, but he never shot you down for being bubbly around him. “Zoro would have told me to shut up by now if he didn’t, right?”

“Huh.” Nami says. “You got a point.”

You push the curtains aside, grinning at her. “Come on, let’s break into that treasury.”

“Of course, my gem.”

“Oh my god, if that sticks I’m going to be so mad.”

The treasury was a vault full of everything from jewels to ornamental weapons. Nami playfully crowned you with a diamond tiara, and she put on dangling emerald earrings that looked stunning on her.

After filling your bags and pockets with the most you can carry, you and Nami head out to find the others. You run into Usopp on the way back to the lounge.

“I see you two cleaned up well.” He jokes. “Luffy and Sanji are in the kitchen. I was just on my way there.”

“Where’s Zoro?” You ask.

“With Helios. You know him, still drinking.”

“We should leave soon.” Nami insists. “We risk getting caught the longer we stay.”

“Right.” You hand Usopp your bag, his eyes widen comically when he feels how heavy it is. “I’ll just go say goodbye, I’ll catch up with you guys later.”

Before you even enter the lounge, however, you hear Zoro speak your name. Are they talking about you? You press your back against the wall, straining to hear their conversation.

You almost wish you didn’t.

“She tells the worst jokes and doesn’t know when to quit it. Thinks she’s hilarious but she’s really not.” Zoro speaks in that deep voice that would usually be comforting to you—but his words now pierce through you painfully.

“What exactly is your relationship with her?” Helios asks, and Zoro is silent. It feels like your heart crumbles for every second he doesn’t answer.

You’re friends! You’ve been dreaming of more but, you’ve always been friends.

…Aren’t you? Doesn’t he think so?

“I don’t know.” Your heart fully shatters. What does he mean he doesn’t know? “She just sticks to me a lot. It can get annoying.”

“Well. That’s unfortunate, but it’s nothing to sob over.” Helios kisses his teeth. “I don’t care about her attitude. All that doesn’t matter as long as she has that pretty face.”

You wait for Zoro to say something. Anything. You want him to cut Helios where he stands.

But he doesn’t. The silence drags on. The air feels like it’s pushing you down, crushing your lungs. You have to get out of here.

You burst into the kitchen, trying your best not to cry. Nami immediately rushes to you, holding your shoulders to steady you. “What happened?”

Letting out a shuddered breath, you whisper, “You were right.” It’s impossible to think straight right now. “I want to leave.”

You look to Luffy, still shaken up. Your captain’s expression is serious as he nods. “Go ahead, we’ll get Zoro and catch up.” Not needing to be told twice, you head out the door.

Before she follows you, Nami hisses at Sanji, “Talk some sense into that dumbass, won’t you?”

The entire walk back to the Going Merry is silent. You’re grateful Nami doesn’t immediately press you for what happened, but you know that you should answer her questions. You finally get the words out in the safety of her cabin.

You sit cross-legged on the bed, and everything comes pouring out. “He called me annoying.” 

“Zoro?” She asked, offering you a box of tissues.

“Yeah.” You sniff, taking the box.

“I’m sorry. That was fucked up of him to say.”

Unsure how to properly comfort you, Nami gets up and retrieves extra pillows from a storage compartment.

“Why don’t we have a girl’s night?” Nami asks, offering you a smile. It pulls a smile out of you too, the first one you mustered since Zoro crushed your spirit. 

“I’d like that.” 

Zoro is confused to find that you and Nami had left before them. Luffy gave Helios some lame excuse that you weren’t feeling well, but Zoro knew better. If you were really sick, the whole crew would be panicking and rushing to get to you.

He stares at Sanji and Usopp, trying to piece together what really happened. They both turn away from him, refusing to say anything.

In the next second, a maid rushes out, panting and screaming, “Mr. Helios! The treasury has been robbed!”

Fine. Answers can come later. For now, they need to run.

Once they’re back on the ship, Sanji follows Zoro into his cabin. He stares at the chef blankly, “Get out.”

“Did you do something?” Sanji leans against the doorframe, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Get out.” Zoro repeats, about to push him out of the room when Sanji speaks your name.

“She was upset. Asked to leave as soon as possible.” Sanji’s gaze is almost menacing, and his frown deepens when Zoro’s face falls. So, that’s what happened. You had heard him.

“Fuck.” Zoro groans, running a hand through his hair in frustration.

“Everyone noticed you getting bitchy over Helios.” Sanji notes “Did you confront him or something?”

Scoffing, Zoro sits on his hammock, the fabric dips under his weight. “It was something, all right.”

Wanting Zoro to explain himself unpromptedly, Sanji just watches him and lets the silence hang in the air. After a solid, suffocating minute, the swordsman caves.

“I called her annoying.” Zoro breathes out deeply. “I said her jokes aren’t funny and that she sticks to me a lot.”

“Man, that’s screwed up.” Sanji gapes. “I thought you cared about her?”

“Of course I do, but I didn’t say anything that wasn’t true.” Zoro defends. “Luffy’s the only one who laughs at her jokes, and she’s always by my side.” 

Sighing, Zoro continues, “...but I never minded any of it. I learned to care for those parts of her a long time ago. I was only trying to get that shithead off her back.”

“You’re an idiot.” Sanji concludes. “You have the emotional depth of a sink, sometimes.”

Zoro, surprisingly, doesn’t insult the chef back. He stares at the wall, slouched and looking the most empty Sanji’s ever seen him.

“What should I do?” He asks. “How should I make it up to her?”

Sanji’s eyes light up, he beams and claps his hands together in excitement. Even if Zoro hasn’t heard it yet, he already dreads the chef’s suggestion. 

“I have an idea.”

When you woke up the next morning, you had every intention of avoiding Zoro like the plague. It was still really difficult to look at him, the hurt you felt still stings your heart. 

But unfortunately for you, he had other plans. 

You’re gazing out into the sea on the forecastle deck when you hear a familiar set of heavy footsteps. You sigh. “I don’t want to talk, Zoro.”

“I’m not here to talk.” You turn to him questioningly, but you really shouldn’t give him the time of day. Wasn’t he the one who complained about you clinging to him?

You don’t say anything. Only glaring at him and hoping he sees how disappointed you feel. Zoro stands here, appearing strangely vulnerable. If you weren’t so hurt, you would have hugged him by now. 

But you are. So he has to wallow in the awkwardness of the consequences of his words. He—wait. What’s that on his face?

“I…” Is he… blushing? “I’m sorry I wasn’t around in the past.” 

You make a face and blink at him. What is he up to?

“...Can I be part of your future?”

That knocks the wind right out of you, your jaw practically falls to the floor. Did Roronoa Zoro just use a pickup line? On you? You can’t help but glance at your surroundings to check if the sky is still blue.

No—hold on. He can’t win you over just like that. He needs to explain why he said what he did. 

“You said my jokes are the worst.” You grumble.

“They are.” Zoro looks straight into your eyes as he speaks. “But you’re one of the best things to ever happen to me.”

“You said I always stick to your side.”

He doesn’t miss a beat and answers earnestly, “You do. And I wouldn’t want you to be anywhere else.”

“…You said you didn’t know what our relationship is.”

That causes Zoro to pause, searching your eyes as if he’ll find the answer in them. “…I don’t.”

Oh, this impossible sword-brain of a man. Your lips quiver, and you realize you can’t fight back your smile anymore. “I love you, Zoro.”

His expression shifts from anxiousness to shock, relief, and a bit of something else... 

“I love you, too.” Ah, of course. Love, that too.

Slowly, tentatively, he raises his arms, inviting you to an embrace. He’s adorable, looking a teensy bit nervous that you wouldn’t want to hold him. Giggling, you rush to him, wrapping your arms around his waist as he envelops your shoulders. 

“I bet Sanji taught you to apologize with that line.” You murmur into his chest. “If you tell me another one…” Zoro cringes, his frame tensing. 

“...I’ll give you a kiss.” His expression lifts, seriously considering it.

After a minute, Zoro clears his throat. You almost squeal in excitement.

“Roses are red, violets are blue…” A classic. This is going to be good.

“I’m sorry if I made you feel awkward, I just want to have dinner with you.” You gasp, squeezing him tighter. 

“Yes! That was perfect.” Laughing, you reach up and hold his face to keep your promise. 

You plant a sweet, short kiss on his lips. When you pull away, he’s looking at you like he would fight anyone for you. He probably would, if you’re being honest.

“You’re perfect.” He breathes, mouth against yours and then he’s kissing you again.

Hiding behind a pile of crates, the rest of the crew whoop and cheer. (Silently.)

“That was such a good line!” Luffy whispers.

“I still think he should have used the ‘I don’t speak angel’ one.” Usopp whispers back.

“What are you talking about?!” Sanji angrily, quietly mutters. “That was perfect because he apologized and delivered the line.”

“Shut it, you guys. I was right, he didn’t last a day with her mad at him.” Nami holds out her palm. “Pay up.” The others groan, handing her some berry. All’s well that ends well.

© togenabi 2023 | see here to be added to my taglist ♡

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[evie-sturns]

dent - Matt Sturniolo

summary: you accidentally dent matt's car after taking it to work, when you give matt the news he doesn't comfort you, quite the opposite actually resulting in an argument. he finds a good way to make it up to you after he realises he overreacted.

contains: angst, arguing, crying, yelling, slight panic attack, smut, fingering, matt the munch, fluff.

----------------------.·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·.-------------------

I walk out of my office into the cold hair which hits my bare skin harshly, I tug down my mini dress with a sigh as i approach my boyfriend, matt's, car. he let me borrow it for work today due to the fact my cars in the repair shop.

I swing open the door to his car, flopping down into the drivers seat and instantly turning on the heating. I drive forward a couple meters before realising i left my phone in the office

"shit" i mumble, slamming on the brakes and swinging open my door.

It hits the pole which i pulled up next to, "oh my fuck-" i gasp, "no- no" i repeat before jumping out of my car, looking at the door. It has a reasonably large dent in it now.

"no, no no no.." i throw my head into my hands, i decide to grab my phone then deal with this situation.

my heels click against the concrete as i sprint towards the front door of the office,

I swiftly run into the elevator and press level 6, my finger shaking. "what do I even say to matt!" I mumble to myself.

the elevator door opens with a ding and i make my way towards my room, I pull out my keys and unlock the door, walking back in and swiping my phone off of the desk. I run back towards the elevator and pile in with one of my coworkers.

"You 'goin lobby?" she asks, I nod with a forced smile as i fix my hair in the mirror. The door to the elevator opens, I speed-walk out and out the building towards matt's car.

I start to instantly feel guilty as i look at the door on the drivers side again, I open the door more carefully this time and jump in, I turn on the car and pull out of the parking spot,

my hands grip the wheel as panic flushes over me, "matt will understand, i'm sure."

-

after parking the car in the driveway I walk up the front porch, I knock twice on the door as I feel my eyes water slightly, I push back my tears with a deep breath.

Matt opens the door with a tired smile, "hey sweetheart! how was work?" he breathes out, I walk inside with a shaky breath, folding my arms over my stomach.

"matt.. i need to tell you something" i say, looking up at him with my bottom lip trembling.

"yeah!? anything- are you okay?" he says with a concerned look on his face.

"i- i um" i take a deep breath before continuing "i accidentally opened the car door into a pole- like really hard and now theres a big dent" i squeeze out, my voice breaking halfway through

"you what?" he raises his voice "let me see it?"

i nod, walking back outside towards the car, matt follows close behind me. he takes one look at the door and instantly turns around, throwing his hands up

"of course you fucking did!" matt raises his voice, walking back inside

"matt i'm sorry-" i start but matt cuts me off "i dont wanna hear it- i dont wanna hear your voice,"

my eyebrows twist "matt what? i'm gonna pay for that you know that" i say, slightly louder, following matt inside

"no- how the fuck are you that blind? how do you slam the car into a pole that big? are you fucking stupid!" matt yells, looking at me directly in the eyes.

my lips part in shock, "you can't speak to me like that matt! it was an accident" i argue back, matt scoffs.

"you're so fucking clueless."

i feel my eyes water, "why don't you do anything right?" he groans loudly.

i burst into sobs, "don't say that" i whisper, taking in sharp panicked breaths.

"i'll say what i want!? you can tell me what to say and what not to when you grow a fucking conscious!"

and with that i go to walk down the corridor past matt, already embarrassed from crying. he grabs my wrist tugging me back towards him. i gasp with an ugly sob

"look at me." matt growls, i shake my head looking down at my feet.

"look at me!" he raises his voice, "fine!" i yell, looking up at him.

"if my car. isn't fixed by tomorrow evening. we're going to have a problem y/n." matt says blankly.

"i know- let me go!" i whine, he releases his grip and i run towards matt and i's bedroom, slamming the door shut behind me.

i hear matt mutter something about me being pathetic through the door

“stop being so mean matt!” i yell in a bratty way, i feel my breathing get shallow, my body gradually heating up

my sobs never slow, in fact they get worse the more that the argument we just hand sinks into me. the whole house is now silent aside from matt and i’s room where i’m struggling to breathe

i sink down onto the floor against the wall as i bury my face in my knees, i take in shaky attempts of breathes as i cry into the fabric of my pants.

I pick up my phone and email matt’s insurance company, informing them on what just happened to his car. My hands shake against the keyboard, as soon as i press send i’m up off the floor and in my closet, tearing off my minidress and changing into one of matt’s shirts.

——

I’ve been laying in bed for about an hour now, just now realising that i haven’t ate since mid day and now it’s 9pm, i’ve finally calmed myself down after what happened earlier

matt won’t be in the kitchen i’m sure, i hoist myself up off of bed and walk into the corridor. I feel myself get nervous, i don’t want to get upset again.

as i reach the end of the corridor i enter the kitchen, matt sitting at the dining table on his phone with a plate of dinner infront of him,

it’s okay.

if i don’t look at him i’ll be fine.

i can see out of the side of vision matt looking up at me, i open the pantry.

matt clears his throat before starting, “I made you dinner aswell.. it- it’s in the fridge and there’s muffins in there too.” matt says softly, his voice is quiet, like if he gets any louder i’ll disappear.

i don’t respond, i don’t have to respond to anything he does after how he treated me earlier.

i open the fridge to see a plate of pasta in the fridge, topped with a stupid green leaf on top which matt ‘only does for special occasions’, i remember him telling me and we laughed about it for hours.

along side there’s a couple of muffins which have a poor attempt of being iced, a dollop of icing ontop of each one with some strategically placed sprinkles.

i take the two plates as i keep my lips pressed into a line, i walk back down the corridor into our room and shut the door behind me with a loud sigh.

i have to admit, it was sweet what he had made, he’s always had a weird love for cooking for me no matter how bad he was at it, i think it was because of the amount of enthusiasm i gave him every time he presented it to me.

i sit down at matt’s desk, my feet up on the chair as i take a small bite. I didn’t really have an appetite but i was hungry, and this was nice.

after devouring the muffins i was feeling better, it was now 9:30pm and I decided that i needed to have my hour on my phone in bed before i sleep. I leave the dishes in a neat pile on the desk.

usually i would take them into the kitchen but i didn’t want to see matt, i knew i would cry this time.

I flop down into matt and i’s bed, it feels empty without him. We’ve slept in the same bed every night of our relationship and it’s the only way i can sleep.

—-

10:23pm

knock knock

i hear soft knocking on the door, i choose to ignore it.

knock knock

again, followed by the door clicking open. i’m practically buried under the duvet, only my hair visible so i keep my eyes infront of me at my phone.

i hear matt’s footsteps get closer to the bed, from the small gap out of the duvet i see his jeans by the bed.

i think he’s trying to figure out if i’m awake or not.

I let out a deep sigh and tug the duvet up higher. Matt takes in a shaking breath as he looks down at me.

“can— may i sit down next to you? i want to talk” matt whispers.

may i? on normal days i would laugh at that, it’s so formal.

if i don’t agree we won’t talk this out, meaning that i won’t get any closure for longer. I nod my head slightly. matt climbs into bed beside me, the weight shifting to his side as he sits uncomfortably

he doesn’t waste time to start talking

“I’m so sorry- i’m so embarrassed about everything i said, i didn’t mean it.” matt’s voice trembles.

“do you want to come out of there- I want to see you.” matt whispers, tapping my shoulder lightly though the blanket.

i pull down the duvet and sit up against the duvet next to matt, i look up at him briefly. he looks distraught

his eyes are puffy and red, his nose red and eyes glossy.

he looks at me and i see guilt wash over him.

“i love you so much— i don’t want to loose what we have over a dent in my car.” matt says calmly,

“i said things that i’m really really not proud of.. at all. i didn’t even know what i was saying.. my mouth was spitting out shit faster than i could process.”

“i’m not even sure what i was saying.” matt sighs

“you- you’re mad at me though” i whisper

“i’m not mad at you princess, i’ve never been mad at you i promise. i just freaked out over something minor” matt says, reaching down and interlocking our fingers as a single tear falls from his eyes, i reach up and wipe it quickly.

“you don’t have to forgive me, i’m not expecting you to. but if you want- i could make it up to you..? or not i don’t know- i could go sleep in the spare bedroom if you need time alone i mean, but i’m so sorry.” he rambles

“make it up to me?” i whisper, “like how?” i ask with a sniff.

“you know…” matt hints “the thing that you like a lot from me?”

i nod, sinking my top teeth into my bottom lip.

“i’m sorry for making you cry sweetheart,” matt says, wiping my face with his cold hands.

“i’m fine- it’s okay.” i give matt a small smile.

he nods understandably before sitting up, he walks over to the edge of the bed beside me and lightly grips my ankles, spinning me round so my legs dangle off the edge of the bed

Matt kneels on the floor between my legs “can i take these off?” he asks softly, referring to the lace panties underneath matt’s shirt that i threw on earlier

i nod quickly, “words please” matt smiles, “yes- yes you can please” i spit out.

“there she is” matt says, hooking his fingers over the waistband and tugging them down to my ankles.

he doesn’t waste time to wrap his arms under my thighs, holding my lower back lightly to keep me up in the sitting position. “this okay?” he breathes, “yes!” i reply instantly, feeling the heat between my legs grow.

matt starts to press small pecks to the insides of my thighs, kissing around where i need him the most.

embarrassingly, i let out a soft whimper from the little amount of touch.

matt loves to eat me out, i’m not sure why but he goes all out like it’s his last meal. he says it’s because it makes me feel so good which i find cute.

“so pretty” matt says from between my thighs, he finally attaches his mouth to my clit,

“oh my god-“ i moan, intertwining my fingers on one hand into his brunette hair and placing my other hand behind me, feeling myself grow weak already.

matt removes one hand from under my thigh, letting it fall onto the bed, he reaches under his chin and slowly dips his middle finger into my hole, curling it up slightly “matt!” i whine, bucking my hips up into his mouth

he adds his other finger aswell, the cold metal of his rings against the warmth of me making my eyes roll back.

i grip his hair tighter as matt repeatedly curls his finger “how- how are you so good at this” i breathe out

matt laughs lightly, the vibrations earning a squeal from me.

“fuck fuck-“ i whimper, feeling myself get close.

matt swirls his tongue around my clit,

and with that my legs clench around his head and i finish

i feel myself release on matt’s fingers, my legs shake around his head as he pulls his mouth off of me, being careful to not overstimulate me.

i collapse down on the matress behind me, attempting to catch my breath as i let go of matt’s hair.

matt smiles stupidly at me, his lips glistening. he picks me up off the bed, holding me by my ass. he pecks kisses down my neck.

“thank you.” i sigh, burying my face into his neck.

“don’t thank me.” matt laughs, carrying me into the living room and flopping down on the couch, i lay on his body.

“matt?” i ask quietly

“yeah pretty?” he reply’s, his fingers tracing mindless shapes on my back.

“you know i love you.” i say into his shirt “i love you more.” matt smiles

“and your rings- please don’t ever take them off.” i laugh.

“whys that?” matt teases,

“they feel so good.” i mutter out, barely audible.

“is that so?” matt grins, “yes- yeah” my cheeks flush

matt chuckles slightly, shifting me up and down on his chest.

“you know the muffins you made that were in the fridge?” i start up a new conversation

“yeah?” matt smiles, “what the fuck was going on with the icing- i mean they were really good but the icing was… special!” i burst out laughing

matt laughs with me before replying

“i actually don’t know- i don’t think bakings for me. i put the icing on and it like melted into the cupcake”

i scoff, “it’s okay baby, they were so cute”

——————

@luanetaluenta @sturnsssbow @mattfangirl @luvr4miya @luvtay111 @lolasturniolo @freshloveforthefit @ruedowney @lovingchrissposts @333michelle @h3arts4harry @sonicmacks @jamiesturniolo @chrisstopherfilmed @itzdarling @sturniolo-simp4life @daddyslilchickenfingers2 @recklessmatt @ev3rgreenxtrees @lovergirl4387 @certifiednatelover @solarsturniolo @mattsenthusiast @yomamaslays4lyfe @peachmels @alinaa131 @pepsiluvr0209 @creamoncreamoncream2 @szobofc @mattscoquette @blahbell668 @sturniolo04 @pkfferroo @bitchydragonparadise @thematthewlover @sturni0l0 @ratatioulle

[deafsignifcantother]

the v's reaction to someone taking your hearing aid

♥ summary: "what the Vees would do if they noticed their partially deaf s/o being picked on - like the other people would tear out their hearing aid(s) and break them and stuff" @aceduchessdragoness ♥ characters: velvette, vox, valentino ♥ notes: screaming and crying okay so i did val's spanish as spain spanish bc i think spain sign language would be better than narrowing his signs down to a specific latin american country but if the translation is cringe then tell me bc i'm literally using an lse dictionary

Vox

♥ word count: 1.9k ♥ notes: i use [Y/N] for the first time in my career ong, she/her pronouns used in third person, reader doesn't speak and only signs, protective but violent vox, vox in a healthy relationship, reader gets harassed in public

It was never a mystery to you how Vox always knew where you were. Even without the watch on your wrist, you felt his eyes on you, the looming knowledge of persistent monitoring.

Not that it bothered you, of course. If anything, you were worried that he wanted to spend his time watching you instead of running his business. But whatever, it was flattering.

Whenever you went on your routine errands, you would smile at every television or security camera you encountered. On the big screens in Vox's room, he feels like the common softening of his heart. Your smile always seems so genuine. How can somebody like you adore him so much?

.

Blue light illuminates your living room. From the kitchen, you groan as you make your way to the television. Can he stop bothering you at this hour? All you wanted to do was get some damn water, but of course, as always, he's monitoring you.

Words pop up on the screen as you approach it. You rub your eyes, the brightness overwhelming. You reach for your coffee table.

GO TO SLEEP

With the sudden click of the remote, you smile as the screen goes black. One, two, three... it lights up again.

DON'T TRY

Again, the screen goes black. One... again, a bright blue illuminates you.

[Y/N]. The television shakes.

You snicker at him, finally sitting on the floor and putting the remote down. On the other side of that screen, Vox sits on his swivel chair, gazing up at you, your frame taking up multiple monitors. Your eyes look below where his point of view is.

"It's late," you sign, and the light makes your hands shine in the darkness. "Dim it a little."

He listens; his small act of consideration makes you melt. Your eyes soften immensely. Internally, he begs you to stop looking at him like that; it's embarrassing how good it makes him feel.

The television is still a blinding blue as you go from the living room to the bedroom; he follows you per any screen by your side. Worst of all, a flat-screen faces your bed, which was mandatory.

"Goodnight, Vox." You sign while putting your face up to the screen.

You turn this TV off, and to your delight, it stays off.

.

With a yawn, you stretch your morning aches away and lean your head against the table of your vanity. You get a few seconds of shut-eye before popping back up. Vox is watching; if he notices you're tired, he will try to be domestic and nap with you regardless of how much work you must do today. So you rub away your sleepy eyes and massage the tension in your jaw. Putting on your hearing aid is first on your daily to-do list; you'd like to hear if he pops up on your television and decides to update you on his morning. Sometimes, he gets so impatient. Next, while picking up your moisturizer, you try not to shiver at the coldness once it touches your fingers.

You wish yourself a good morning before rubbing it in.

At the same time of day, Vox was already up and doing his rounds, making sure his employees were getting work done. He gets antsy between when you wake up, and you get to the tower. Every morning once he sees you entering the elevator, he'll wait on the other side to welcome you in with a kiss to the forehead.

Vox checks his watch. It shows his favorite things: your vitals, location, and pretty little face whenever you dial him.

You've finally left your place, thank goodness. Pacing aimlessly has never looked good on him.

.

He stands by his window, looking down at the streets below, watching you approach. You're wearing your usual uniform, one that he picked out just for you; it consists of the same red and blue stripes he has on his everyday suit. It makes you an eyesore in the everyday crowd.

If you didn't know any better, you'd lift your head to see if you could spot him among the many stories. The building is beautiful, overpowering. The V tower's magnificent brightness outshines the rest of the V district. The constant noise of people always has you walking with your hearing aid turned as low as it can go without turning off.

With the pink light reflecting off your face, you look both ways before crossing the street, a bright smile on your face, stepping onto the asphalt before a hand grabs your wrist.

Vox furrows his brow at the sight.

You turn your head and see a friendly reporter and a cameraman, the camera not yet rolling. Your pupils flicker between them.

"Hello!" She smiles, removing her hand. With caution, you fully face her, stepping back onto the sidewalk. The 'professional' persona you've been forced to practice is finally coming to fruition.

"Hello! I'm Deaf; I don't think I'd be able to do an interview."

She flicks her hand and rolls her eyes in the most friendly way possible. "Not a problem," she signs, moving the microphone vibrantly, "I can work this out, no problem!"

You widen your eyes in a wowwwww, oh my god, that's perfect... "Oh, what a kind woman you are!"

Vox? You beg internally. Baby? Save me.

Up high, he doesn't remove his eyes from you. With the use of sign language, he can't listen in, and he can't tell whether he needs to intervene or not. There's nothing wrong with going to check, right? Or will he seem possessive, or scared? He doesn't want people to think he doesn't want you to talk to anyone. It's good that you get to sign to someone other than him and Velvette, right?

The camera starts rolling, and you square your shoulders, adjusting your sleeves for more mobility. The news reporter throws the microphone at the cameraman, who does not catch it but ignores it as she shows off her brightest smile.

"Hello, ladies and gentlemen, I have the sweetest person in hell with me, [y/n]! Tell me, how long have you two been together?"

Of course, the news has been recognizing you recently. You've been seen countless times adjusting Vox's tie (he purposely fucks it up so that you'll step close to him) as well as wrapping your arm around his and pinching the corner of his screen endearingly before you give him a babying compliment. Many people have taken pictures and edited hearts around you two. People are obsessed with how "heavenly" your relationship is.

"Oh, many months now!" You nod to yourself, trying to stop your eyes from shining with admiration. You always get so soft when you think about him; it's one of the things people notice. She looks at him as if he's her entire world.

"Beautiful!" The reporter puffs out her bottom lip innocently. "I'm sure you make that man very happy."

What do you even say to that? I hope so.

"The happiest."

"Now," she doesn't hesitate to change the topic. "Are there any challenges you two face about your... differences?"

Your eyebrows raise before furrowing in confusion. Differences? At first, you think she means his television head, but when she notices you pause, she rudely clarifies. "I mean, with your lack of hearing, you know? Don't you find it a little embarrassing?"

You lean your body away from her. "What are you saying?"

The shock of the tonal shift has you freezing in place. The reporter looks at the camera, her eyes squinting with sadistic amusement. Her fingers twitch as she lifts her arm, not even looking at you before plucking the hearing aid from your ears. She crushes it in her hand.

At first, you grab your ear, pressing your hand to it in disbelief. Your face contorts, your shoulders dropping as you try to step away. Why couldn't you see this coming? And on television—is that where this is airing? The air around you goes quiet, the sensation of spatial awareness fading a bit as you stumble back, your hand still grasping your ear. The watch on your wrist hits your cheek, and without a second thought, you tap on the screen repeatedly. The next thing that popped into your head: her bravery is the most surprising.

With a brief fall of light, Vox stands where the lady once was. You eye him with uncertainty, a look you have never given him. He faces the cameraman, not looking your way. Your eyes go up and down his body; his stance is tense, his arms are folded behind his back, and his fingers sparking with small glimmers of electricity.

You see that lying behind him is the woman, body entirely limp, smoke coming from her mouth, and her eyes looking stuck open.

He speaks to the camera, pointing his finger at it, staring intensely into the shaking, blinking red light. Your hands link around his bicep. Composure, you remind yourself. You turn to the camera with a weary smile and lean your head against him.

.

"That'll never happen again." He stares at himself in the mirror. His dressers and tables are filled with claw marks from his previous meltdowns.

You just sit on his bed, crossing your legs uncomfortably, watching him as he goes back and forth between signing to you and mumbling to himself. You haven't said a word. You just keep your eyes on him.

He protected you in the way he knew best. He wanted nothing more than to put his hands on the sides of her head and crush her skull. It would stain his suit, awful. Even worse, your suit would have been ruined, too.

Should he force you to move into the tower? He's always wanted to. The commute would be no more, and you'd be safe from the outside.

Should he prevent you from leaving at all without him? No, that might be too much, but his entire body craves to keep you secure and protected.

He won't ask you what you want. He knows there's a chance you would just coddle him and tell him it's okay. There's no reality where he will do nothing; he must devise his own plan. But first (actually, secondly, after getting his anger out on his furniture), he wants to make sure his sweetheart is okay.

Once he calmed down and sat next to you, rubbing your thigh, he watched as you scrolled through social media, looking at the hundreds of people laughing and reposting the event. He shuts off your phone, grabs it, and tosses it across the room. You roll your eyes helplessly before he lifts his hands and signs to you.

"I will track everyone down and punish them severely, baby. No one will ever touch you again, or else they will the next flashing headline."

"I know, baby," you wrap your arms around his chest and lean into him, rubbing your cheek against the smoothness of his overcoat.

You hum against him, finding it in yourself to smile softly. Protector, protector, protector. You run those words through your head; they're comforting to their own extent. Suppose he ends up locking you inside the tower. In that case, it's better than him leaving you entirely over this (which, obviously, he'd never actually do). Spending every morning and night with him wouldn't be wrong. Everything happens for a reason.

He leans back onto the bed, his feet dangling off as you curl into his side.

Before resting completely, you use a hand to sign into his chest. "Everything will be fine."

Your coddling, though annoying, provides the most relaxing warmth to his body. He groans, wrapping an arm lazily around you, feeling the usual butterflies in his stomach as you press a small kiss to his collarbone.

.

.

.

Velvette

♥ word count: 1.6k ♥ warnings: reader speaks, party scene, getting harassed by a man, vox is in this too ♥ a/n: i completely headcanon that velvette took an asl class in highschool when she was alive, i have no idea how velvette usually acts in fanfiction so this is MY velvette now

Velvette found you, such a pretty thing, in your little corner of the internet, making content for your little community. That little corner of yours is where you told the news and interpreted a lot of banter from the overlords. Your channel was the perfect mix of education and drama, all for the Deaf community in Hell.

You were, as Velvette described, a tea channel.

She invited you to the V tower to show you around. The three V's introduced themselves to you in their own way, offering you a job. The bossman, ever so gentlemanly and charming, didn't let Valentino try and make sex motions to you for longer than necessary. And before Velvette forced Vox to scurry off, she forced him to snap a few pics of you posing with her as a faux collab.

You weren't stupid. You knew Velvette only wanted your attention to spread whatever brand she endeavored to popularize. But this might be a golden opportunity. You'd learn the behind-the-scenes from three different overlords, and the content you can produce will gather insane traction.

.

Velvette is just so sweet; the way she showed her care for you was just through gift-giving.

She loved putting together gift boxes for you, similar to the sorority kind. The boxes went from cute little baskets to a cardboard box resembling a PR send. These would always be set on your desk with a bit of note from her, each time she'd signed off her name with a heart.

Jackets, shoes, candies, jewelry, pens, everything. The gifts are versatile with familiar themes of hearts. Every day was like Valentine's Day when she was 'courting' you (did she even realize she was?).

She made you bags: totes, crossbody bags, clutches, phone pouches, coin purses, anything she thought you would need with an array of colors to match any outfit. She put in hair clips and pocket mirrors, cozy slippers and fancy journals.

She even got you two matching bracelets.

You love the smirk she wears whenever she notices you adorning anything she's given to you. Damn right, she thinks, I knew it would look good.

The most enormous box she'd ever given you was the day before one of her fashion shows. Inside were glorious clothes from her collection, all for you to pick out and wear. She really loved her stripes.

You put your hearing aid on, smiling at yourself in the mirror as you watch the charm she made you glisten in the light. With your bracelet ornamenting your wrist, you pat down your stripped outfit before taking a deep breath.

.

Your entrance reeks of reluctance. The temptation to retreat back to your room is unbearable. Seeing Velvette will definitely lift your mood; where is she? Surely, she'd be the highlight of the room, but amongst all the women with their eccentric colors and clothing shapes, you can't find your eye drawing to her anywhere.

The sounds of the party blend together in a nasty concoction; you can't help but turn your hearing aids off. The sound is similar to what it's like being outside in a heavy storm; the wind, the pouring rain, the blur and whine of the hearing aids. And instead of lingering by the double doors, you push into the crowd. You're the least recognizable in the crowd of celebrities, but it doesn't stop people from moving out of the way when you try to wiggle through. You're wearing stripes, her stripes. You're either bold or very special to her; they don't want to intervene.

But your stripes also get some people to stare at you longer than they would have otherwise. Across the room, in front of you, you notice a tall, almost shirtless model coming your way, directly staring at you. You break the quick eye contact before squeezing through a cluster of girls taking selfies. They won't let you through, grimacing but not laying any hands on you. When you turn to go the other way, the man is behind you, holding out his hand, waiting for you to put your hand in his.

You click on your hearing aid and scroll up. "What did you say?" You ask verbally, clearing your throat a bit.

His eyes bounce from yours to your hand, looking at what you're touching. His head tilts in interest. You don't like the sight of his smile.

"Oh wow." He says.

Immediately, "Yeah, no," Velvette puts her hands on your shoulders and tries to push you away. "I swear, don't even look at him, he's fucking insane."

He speaks over her, but you can't process his words over how close Velvette's lips are to your ear. Her warm breath sends goosebumps down your arms, and your spine straightens. This only makes her hum in amusement.

After turning and growling at him, she effortlessly maneuvers you away. Eyes watch you even closer now as she touches you. You let her guide you throughout the room with not a clue as to where she's leading you, if anywhere. But eventually, you two end up in front of a mirror the size of a wall.

She stares at you through the mirror. "Look at you," she signs, "extravagant as ever, darling."

"Thanks to you."

"Obviously." And she bumps her hip into yours. You laugh, mimicking the motion back.

You had ditched your initial motive of getting close to the V's to gain more information about them. They were fine people to hang out with, making you laugh and feel involved. Velvette gave you special attention that nobody in your afterlife has ever given. Her lipstick left stains on your cheek whenever she kissed you, and she made an 'appointment' in her schedule once a week to paint your nails the same black color as hers.

The afternoon went by quickly; you spent time clapping and watching models show off their garb. Velvette is a true talent.

But something ruined your evening. The air hummed with laughter and the rhythmic beat of music. Velvette had been whisked away by the other V's to overlook the crowd and count the people who had attended. Among the colorful crowd stood a familiar figure whose eyes sparkled with mischief. Different from last time, you don't notice when he starts to approach again.

"You," he coos, placing his hand under your chin. You must stare at his lips to comprehend his words over the music, an awful innuendo you wish you could have avoided. He leaned in closer to you, and in return, you leaned back. Valentino had told you a bunch of times to not worry if someone puts their hands on you, that it's a typical formality in Hell. You would always roll your eyes at him, never expecting a stranger to grab you like this.

You were mentally preparing yourself to dodge a kiss. But then, daringly, he leaned in and gently plucked the hearing aid from behind your ear, holding it aloft like a trophy. Fear flickered across your face, your hand instinctively reaching for it, but he pulled it away. The charm Velvette gave you dangles like a jewel.

"Don't," you say with desperation. He puts a finger in front of your face and waves it back and forth. He coos, using that hand to grab your face as if you were the most adorable thing he's ever seen.

Your eyes are locked on the charm, and it's brash jolts. You almost beg for him to just give you the charm back.

In the middle of a conversation with Vox, Velvette raises an eyebrow; shocked and pissed, she glared at whoever had torn off your hearing aid. She mumbles, "I'd tear their hearing aid off and break it."

Before she can move closer to you, Vox puts his hand in front of her while watching the interaction. "Think before acting, Velvette."

Her frustration turns into anger as she pushes his hand away. He lets her run off; he holds a hard stare as her pink hair bobs through the crowd.

Your eyes are stuck wide with shock, and a million things run through your head, all relating to the appropriate situational response.

True to your casual self, you were having a hard time not just jamming your hand in his eyes and kicking his shins. Would you make Velvette mad? Vox?--Would that result in you being removed from the V Tower? It's all so complicated. Though you were panicking over a 'quick' decision, you and the man stayed in that position for a few seconds. He stayed laughing, dropping the hearing aid and stomping on it.

At almost the same time, Velvette threw a glass from someone's hand at the man, perfectly aimed, hitting him in the face. She lets out a small "nice!" before rushing to you.

Her hand runs down your face, and she holds you tenderly, not turning to face Vox as he puts himself between her and the man. Your eyes bounce around the entire room. Will you ever get a break from being at the center of attention?

"We're leaving. Now." she signs in a single motion so quick that it makes you smile, relieving some of the stress that's been making your head pound. She's able to sign so naturally now.

The crowd splits into two.

Behind the both of you, Vox is declaring an end to the event, apologizing to the people for the inconvenience. Velvette keeps muttering about him under her breath; you can see her lips moving and her face grimacing.

.

She has beads in front of her, a bunch of small charms with string. She signs, looking up at you. "I should have killed him."

You just watch her craft another charm, laying on her bed and kicking your feet. "That would have been funny."

She scoffs and smiles, her painted lips turning upwards. Her fingers trace over the beads, deciding which one to pick up. She wants to make it different than the last one, but what should it look like? She picks up a pink heart with a slight hum before sliding it down onto the string. She whispers to herself, perfect.

.

.

.

Valentino

♥ word count: 1.7k ♥ note: reader is a vodka drinker, i'm obsessed with writing a loving valentino, reader doesn't talk very much and prefers sign, sexually suggestive things happening but it's not nsfw, kinda written like ass, drugs mentioned but no named just symptoms, takes place on porn set, valentino kills someone, blood description

Every time you step into the studio, you're hit by the smell of sex, mostly the sweetened stench of that strawberry lube he loves so much. Visiting his work is not usually something you do often, but he's seem to be so busy lately that you can't help but bring him a drink, the most beautiful drink in hell: vanilla vodka. You can already see him licking him lips.

Strawberry lube, so prominent in your nose.

His legs are crossed and he stares at the scene in front of him, his sunglasses hiding whatever his emotions are, but his lips are still in a prominent scowl.

Though, when he sees you, his expression changes drastically. He stands with so much excitement that the actors stop to see what he's reacting to. All eyes are on you, you shy away from the attention a bit but Val doesn't seem to notice, else care.

"Amor mío!" One of his hands signs, running down his cheek while his bottom two motions for a hug.

Before you can initiate a hug, he wraps his arms around you and brings you into his chest, trapping your arms in. He's warm, vibrantly so, it's hard not to melt against him. You couldn't be surprised if you let out a small moan at the contact. Oh, how I've missed you so much.

He pulls away quicker than you'd like and takes the bottle from your hand, holding it up close to his face so he can examine it. "Burnett's, oh you shouldn't have!"

He hesitates, torn between his responsibilities and the irresistible allure of having a drink with the person he was enamored with. He's not so easy to whisk away from work, therefore (of course), you seem to be the only person who he is at every beck and call.

You smile softly, "I knew you'd like it."

With a laugh, he takes your hand and spins you, his free hands popping open the bottle, ready to embark on whatever journey you had in store.

He turns and addresses his employees, granting them a small break before turning to you with his sharp smile.

And together, you slip away from the set, leaving behind the hustle and bustle of the studio for a simple moment of peace and luxury. Walls blazed with hues of pink and blue, you both find yourselves nestled on the fluffy couch in a lounge, a wineglass in your hand while he chugs from the bottle.

"You've been so busy." You sign. You switch the wineglass into your non dominant hand to avoid spilling any of the contents. Val holds the bottle with his bottom set of hands while signing with his top ones (he was originally going to do it the other way around).

“I know, princesa,” one of his hands comes up and squeezes your cheek. “Business calls, I cannot help myself.”

“Which is why I came to visit.” 

The two of you clink glass upon glass before taking a drink. He’s trying not to finish the drink before you, he’s making sure to take his time. He doesn’t want you to leave as much as he doesn’t want to rush the break. His eyes go over your entire form and take you in, there feels like an eternity since he saw you last. Why do you have so much patience for someone like him? It’s astonishing. Surely someone as beautiful as you could find someone sweeter than her. But he’s grateful to have you, he’s mildly addicted to that internal battle of whether he wants to cherish you or own you (perhaps he can do both? Something he’s never done before). 

“What?” You ask.

“Hm?” His fingers pinch together in the casual way of signing.

“You’re staring at me.”

“I can’t resist.”

“What were you thinking about?” You sign and lean forward, giving him bright eyes. Your gaze swallows him, moth to a flame. 

He matches your body language, “You’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen, amor mío.”

When he tries to grab your hand, you pull away. “You're acting as if you're wine drunk.” You sign. You have a sappy smile as you put your glass to your lips. 

“Never,” he wiggles his fingers as he signs. You eye him carefully, debating asking if he's kept his favorite gun on him. There's nothing worse than a drunk Valentino.

After the wine break, he has to go back to work. He feels himself getting irritated as he walks back, why can't he just continue spending the day with you? Is it worth sending everybody home? No, he has a job to do, and he needs to complete it before relaxation. But maybe he'll consider taking breaks (his least favorite word) to spend time with you.

You follow, both of your hands holding his, clinging onto him like a child.

Everybody was still in the studio, waiting for his return, not daring to leave in fear of him coming back. Actors were talking to each other casually, away from the camera, it built a strange sense of community for you. They're so nice to each other off-camera.

He drags you to his chair still holding your hand as he sits in it.

Drinking with you had been a much-needed respite from these people. He made a mental note to gift you more wine.

You remove your hands from his and smile. “Get back to work, baby.” 

Pearly white, sharp teeth show through his large smile. He presses his lips against each of your knuckles while his eyes skin over all of his actors, counting them. He makes eye contact with one particular one, a woman. They stare at each other for more than a second. She's scowling at him and he squints his eyes at her. The fuck is your problem?

She usually looks at him with sultry looks, but now there's a sharpness to them.

But his eyes peel away from her and go back to you, he leans forward and presses a slow kiss to your forehead. He signs low, almost as if he's whispering a secret. "I'll come see you after."

You smile and start turning away. "Good."

Upon noticing your departure, the actors and crew start returning to their places, keeping an eye on Valentino and any commands he might make. Their eyes are always on him, worried to test his anger. But not all the actors were worried about testing his anger.

"Hey," an actress grabs your hand before you could reach the door and you turn to her. She talks, her voice making your hearing aids buzz, "Are you guys like, dating? Are you dating the Valentino? Like, literally one of the V's."

Her words all bunch into one. You blink, taking time to think about both what she could be asking and the connotation behind it. "Yes?" It sounds more like a question than an answer. Is that the correct response?

She hums and nods, her eyes wide in amazement. Her pupils are large. Her cheeks are hollow and she has strong eyebags. With a distant sound from Val, him talking to the crew, she looks back at him before turning to you. "I mean like, why? Why would he want you?"

Oh no. You try to move away but she just follows you, stepping in front of you closer. It's like being cornered, being trapped in an almost unavoidable situation.

"Why wouldn't he?" You test with a squint of your eyes.

She just smiles at you. "Uhm," and her arm reaches over, grabbing the hearing aid from your ear, pinching it between her claws, "Obviously this."

You reach for it but she pulls it away from you, trying not to laugh.

So you do what you know is the best solution, you call his name, practically screaming it. "Val!"

At the sound of you using your voice he whips his head around. The air goes still, you can tell from the way she pauses. Her pause is only for a second, she reeks of hesitance and sudden worry. She looks at the hearing aid in her hand as if she's finally realizing what she had done and what was about to happen.

Before she can say another word, her entire body stiffs, her eyes widen before her pupils roll back. And then she's on the floor, almost falling onto you.

You wipe blood from your cheek and groan.

Val stares at you, his expression unreadable. In his hand is his jeweled gun. He pauses for a moment to take a long drag of his cigarette, letting out a cloud of red smoke before he looks at his gun with a toothy smile until he tucks it back into his belt.

He starts to approach you and for a second you're scared, it was a primal feeling. He walked like a king.

All you can do is watch him, frozen in place.

The first thing he does when he reaches you is bend in front of her body, plucking the hearing aid from her hand. It's bloody, the liquid drips from it as he lifts it up. He wipes some of it off on his shirt before handing it to you. He drops it into your open hands.

He speaks, knowing you'd have a hard time understanding. "Laying her slutty hands on my angel..."

You lean into his touch when he caresses your face. His eyes gaze at you, softening, his smile widening at how soft your eyes look. You're his greatest treasure. He gets off immensely from protecting you, he would ravish you to death in this moment if he could. Valentinos eyes drift down at the body and his pupils narrows as he glares at the dead woman. He's going to have to clean this up. Her blood is getting every where.

One of his thumbs rub against your cheek, touching the bloody smear. It stains your skin in a delectable way. So perfect.

He melts when he sees your soft eyes slowly start to match the mischievous smile growing on your face. He protected you and he was open about being dithered over her behavior, he didn't laugh at it or tease you about it. You don't doubt for an instant that he's the man of your dreams. He killed someone for you in an instant.

When you take his thumb into your mouth, sucking the blood, his spine straightens. He pulls away immediately and turns around, yelling at the his workers that filming will be cut short today.

He just can't wait any longer to spend some lovely time with you.

[amongemeraldclouds]

"if you're going to stare at me like that, at least buy me dinner first" | theodore nott | flufftober masterlist | 835 words

"Let's divide the project, do our part separately, and leave it at that," you stated, dropping your books on the desk beside Theo as if to punctuate your statement.

"Why hello to you too," Theo grinned, unperturbed by your stormy mood. Mostly because he knew it would further annoy you, and partly because he thought you were cute when you were annoyed. You may have been rivals who had the misfortune of being paired together for an important project, but he was not blind.

You settled yourself in the seat beside him, ignoring his sarcasm. Opening your book, you took out your pen to write down the project steps when Theo gave you a page he prepared that contained a detailed breakdown of what the project entailed and different steps you could take.

You reached in your bag to fish out your pair of reading glasses. Theo tried to ignore how adorable it made you look. He was already hyper aware of everything about you and the way you made him feel, he did not need to add more fuel to that flame.

You read the document and you hated to admit it, but it was excellent. It was another point he had won against you. Embarrassment crept up your cheeks as he managed to be a step ahead of you. "Well, this is certainly helpful," you said, trying to keep the neutral tone in your voice. You tried to hide how it ruffled you, except your blush revealed it all.

Theo reacted with a cocky grin, "stick with me y/n and you may learn a thing or two."

"I do just fine on my own," you narrowed your eyes.

"Except we do have to work on this project together. See that," he said, pointing to the third step he outlined in his document. You leaned in to read the section he indicated, your shoulders pressed together. The scent of his woodsy cologne invaded your senses and it took you by surprise.

You shifted your gaze from the page to his face. You blinked in surprise, he was so near. For the first time, you noticed his long lashes. The way his wavy hair fell near his eyes and you were tempted to brush it back. Suddenly curious how soft it would feel between your fingers.

Then he turned his gaze to you, piercing blue eyes stared intently into yours. It took your breath away. He often had a bored expression that you had no idea he could be this focused.

Your lips parted a few centimeters as your mind tried to snap you out of it. You were keenly aware this stare was longer than what was polite, but you couldn't find your way out of this maze.

It achieved the opposite effect as Theo's eyes shifted to your lips. From this close, he noticed how full they were. They looked so soft, he wanted to reach out with his lips just to confirm he was right. Heat bloomed within you as your heart pounded faster in your chest.

Seeming to catch himself, he looked back up, a secret desire swirling into ocean blue of his eyes. He cleared his throat, the spell of the moment over. Your eyes snapped back to the page as he took a second to remember his words.

"We need at least two pairs of hands to complete this step," he finished his sentence from earlier.

You sighed, deflated. There was truly no other way. "You might be right."

"What's that?" Theo leaned in, "you think I'm right?"

You scoffed, "don't get used to it.

He lowered his voice as he whispered in your ear, "but you know, if you're going to stare at me like that, at least buy me dinner first."

Your eyes widened as you opened your mouth to speak then closed it a few times, the words lost in the recesses of your mind. You stopped when you realized it made you look like a fish out of water. "You can't tell me what to do," you countered.

Theo continued, "pretty girl like you, I wouldn't say no."

You blinked, "you think I'm pretty?"

"I have eyes, y/n. I know you think you're better than me but come on. I'm not blind," he replied, waving his hand to dismiss the topic.

He brought the conversation back to the project, dejected by your horror at the thought of going out with him. But with the way you looked at him earlier, he could have sworn you felt the same way he did.

Theo was uncertain and he hated not knowing. Part of his academic prowess lent itself to his innate curiosity about things. He shifted slightly in his seat so his leg brushed briefly against yours and he enjoyed the electric rush from the contact.

As you both wrote down your plans, he made a mental note of another one. You were a question he was going to answer before this project was over.

[subbmissivesuccubus]

Be a good girl~

Disclaimer: Contains Daddy kink, Dom Uzui, Sub reader, Rough sex, some humiliation, degradation, size kink, brat taming, spanking, a bit of breeding kink

--------------------------------------------

Uzui didn't know how to explain it, but he's been craving for a bratty submissive to fulfill his desires. Suma, Makio and Hinatsuru were incredible women and he loved them with all his heart, but they weren't interested in being submissive in the bedroom, nor were they fans of rough, kinky sex and Uzui would never ask them to do anything they weren't comfortable with.

But his desire to fold a cutie underneath him and pound her till she was a crying, sobbing, blubbering mess- her ass red from his spankings, makeup running down her face as she begged Uzui to not force more orgasms onto her overstimulated body- wasn't something he could hide. So the four of them came to an agreement. His wives gave him permission to find someone who might scratch that itch for him, who'd be the submissive he needed. And the very day they had that conversation, Uzui met you. A couple of ranks below the Hashira but climbing the ladder pretty quickly, you were a formidable warrior oozing with talent and strength. You were one of the better fights in the corporation and he knew it was only a matter of time before you became a pillar. You were tasked with assisting him on a new mission to track down a dangerous demon. What was supposed to last till sundown was completed within a few hours, you and Uzui making a fantastic team. You tracked down the demon, avoided its traps and tricks and along with Uzui, the two of you cut off it's head. With time to spare and not having any other missions to finish, the two of you took refuge in the Wisteria inn.

After a nice soak at the hot springs, the two of you met up in your room to share some food and drinks. Cups clinked together as you both drank some nice sake, Uzui having convinced you to relax around him for tonight and to just enjoy yourself. Both of you dressed in soft, comfortable yukata's, the vibe quickly turned friendly as the alcohol allowed you to loosed up a bit around him.

"So, are you in a relationship with anyone?" Uzui asked you. "If I was, I wouldn't be in a room with you alone." you retorted. Uzui raised an eyebrow, "I have three wives you know and i'm in this room with you alone." "Oh yeah!" you said, having genuinely forgotten, feeling guilty for some reason, "I shall leave then. This might be seen as inappropriate-"

"Sit back down." Uzui ordered the second he saw you make a move to leave, smiling when you obeyed him, "My wives wouldn't mind. In fact, they've given me permission to pursue a fourth partner if I wanted to. So don't overthink it."

"Oh..." you said, not knowing what to make of that, "If you say so." Your heart skipped a beat over that news. You weren't blind to how ridiculously attractive Uzui was, the man a walking embodiment of sexy. He looked so good in his uniform but here, with his hair let down and wearing a loose Yukata, you had to avert your eyes more than once from his chest.

"So, assuming you had a partner, why did things end?"

"Huh? oh- uh- it's kind of embarrassing..."

"Hmm? Do tell~" Uzui said with a smirk, leaning back on an arm as he nestled his cup of sake in his hand, "I enjoy some gossip."

"Well, he..uh...he was kind of lousy in bed."

"Oh?"

"Yeah- like really bad. I don't think he made me satisfied even once."

"Oh, you poor thing." Uzui cooed as he took a sip, "That sounds frustrating."

"It was." You said with a nod, "Honestly, all the guys I've dated have been the same. And judging from the stories my other friends have told me, they face the same problem. Men just don't know how to please women."

"Well, I don't know what type of guys you've slept with," Uzui said with a smirk, "But I'm happy to say I do not lack in that department. You can't keep three wives without doing a satisfactory job."

"Hah! Yeah right." you said with a laugh, dismissing his brag, "I bet they're faking. Most men fail to satisfy one woman, let alone three."

"Perhaps. But I'm not most men." Uzui said, a twinge of annoyance in his voice over your bratty attitude, "with my stamina, it takes all three of them to drain my balls completely."

You hiccuped at his vulgar words, quickly gathering yourself before he could notice. Perhaps it was the alcohol that was making your bratty side come out, or maybe it was because of how comfortable you were around Uzui now, but either way, you couldn't control your tongue.

"Just because you have big muscles doesn't mean you have a big cock. And even if you do, I bet you don't know how to use it!"

"Oh yeah? And how are you so sure?" Uzui asked, "Pretty little thing like you- you wouldn't be able to last five minutes if I speared you on my dick."

"I bet I could handle you!" You said, hands on your hips, leveling Uzui with a glare.

"Really?" Uzui asked, a twinkle in his eye as he looked you up and down, heart skipping at the idea that he might have found someone to play with already, "You sound confident."

"I am." you said, puffing your chest out, an action Uzui enjoyed ogling at, "I bet I can rock your world and not even break a sweat! and I'd bet you'd not make me cum even once." Uzui laughed, a giant smile on his face before he patted his lap, legs crossed and inviting, "Come and prove it then."

"Wait- really?" you asked, not expecting that response. You were just teasing, hoping to annoy him a bit but- "Sure. Unless, you didn't mean it. Chickening out already?" the Hashira asked.

With a huff, your pride refusing to take a hit, you crawled over to Uzui and sat on his lap, your Yukata bunching a bit around your thighs as you straddled him.

"Feel that?" he asked, hands having a tight grip on your hips as he made you grind down against him. You bit down a squeal as you felt his hardness press against your core, gulping as you could tell how big he was even through the layer of clothing. You tried to keep level-headed, but Uzui could see right through your poor attempts.

"And you know what?" he asked, hands sliding from your hips to your ass, the man taking greedy handfuls of your pump skin as he groped you, making you gasp, "I'm only half hard~"

"L-Liar!" You said, unable to bite your tongue from responding. He already felt so big against you- and he was only halfway there?! Uzui laughed, before saying:

"Yeah? Why don't you check?" the man asked, quickly untying the sash around his Yukata before leaning back a bit on his arms, a look in his eyes that clearly meant he was challenging you. You gulped as the fabric started to move aside, giving you a generous peek of his sculpted torso. A big, wide body with washboard abs and big pecs, you had to stop yourself from drooling.

"What's wrong?" he asked, "Just going to keep looking? I thought you said you could handle me."

"I-I can!" You snapped, your pride not allowing you to back down, "You're so impatient."

Uzui's chuckle made the hairs on the back of your head prick up, a certain darkness to it. "You know, I'm keeping track of all the bratty comments you make. I can't wait till it bites you in the ass~"

"Sh-shut up!"

"That's another one~"

With a huff, you leaned forward against Uzui's leaning body, gulping as you gripped the folds of his yukata and pulled them apart, completely exposing his torso to you. Never being one to be so forward but also refusing to back down, you pressed you face against his neck and kissed it, your soft lips touching his fair skin. Uzui's groan of content could be felt on your lips as you slowly started kissing his body, a hand coming up to run up his abs. You slowly got more and more confident, your tongue peaking out to lick at his collarbone, your hips grinding down harder against his member. But your pride took a hit when Uzui suddenly started chuckling, making you frown and look up and him.

"Something funny?" you asked, annoyed.

"Yes. You. Kissing and touching me like a blushing virgin. Is this what you meant when you said you'd rock my world? Because if so, I'm not impressed."

You scoffed, cheeks heating up in embarrassment, "You- well excuse me for not being a whore like you-"

But before you could finish your sentence, one of Uzui's hand shot up, grabbed the back of your hair and pulled harshly, making you gasp as your neck was suddenly snapped back. "Watch that filthy mouth of yours." he said, cock twitching as he heard your gasps, "I think it's time I teach you who's in charge here."

"Y-you started it!" you gasped out, head paining from how he was pulling your hair, words hard to speak from how your neck was being stretched. Uzui simply clicked his tongue, "Still have an attitude. I'm afraid I don't have the patience to wait for you to move things along." His free hand expertly tugged at the sash of your yukata and ripped it off of you, making you gasp as your body was exposed to him, no time to feel shy as he tugged your head down and met you for a kiss. It was a greedy and feral lip lock, Uzui immediately massaging your tongue with his own, dominating the kiss effortlessly.

Maybe you did bite off more than you could chew.

But damn, if you weren't excited.

"I've been wanting to bend your bratty ass over my knee and teach you a good lesson every since you opened your mouth." Uzui growled as he bit your lower lip, making you yelp, "Telling me you'll rock my world when you blush like a virgin when you grind on my dick- how adorable."

"That's not- I-" you tried to protest, not knowing what you were protesting in the first place.

"Shut up." Uzui said, kissing you again before picking you up with one hand, your legs wrapped around his waist with his hand under your butt. "We're going to the bedroom." he said, easily carrying you towards said room, "It's time I teach you some manners. And remember, five minutes are on the clock."

Uzui got you to cum in three minutes.

Once he threw you on the bed, he ripped your Yukata off, followed by your undergarments, leaving you completely naked. He shrugged off the fabric he had on as well, his cock springing out of its confines and you swear you forgot how to breathe for a second.

How on earth did you have the audacity to joke that his dick wasn't big? It was a monster of a member, long and thick with heavy balls dangling between his legs. You gulped as he crawled onto the bed, looking down at you like a predator stalking its prey. He grabbed your legs and spread them apart, exposing your sex to him. Gripping you on the back of your thighs, he pushed you enough to make your body bend, your cunt exposed to him even more obscenely.

"U-Uzui-san!" you squealed, face red hot at the way he was staring at your cunt.

"Daddy."

"Wha-"

"You're going to call me Daddy." he explained, licking his lips as he leaned down, his mouth inching towards your sex, "and Daddy needs to prepare your tiny pussy to take his fat cock."

And that's how you experienced the fastest orgasm of your life. Within three minutes, Uzui was drinking down your cum, the man's mouth and tongue so expertly pleasuring you, it was a clear loosing battle. He laughed into your cunt as you came, the vibration making your body tremble even more as he ate you out, paying extra attention to your clit as he took the sensitive bud into his mouth and sucked so hard, it almost made you cum again.

Once you were down from your high, once he looked down on you as he wiped your juices off his lips- you knew you were fucked.

"So," he said, picking up the sash of your yukata from where he discarded it before wrapping it a few times around his hand and making a show of pulling it tightly to make a 'crack' sound, "Remember how I mentioned I want to take you over my knee?"

~~~~~

"Say it."

"I- I don't w-want to-"

"Say it or I'll spank you all night."

With a sob, knowing full well he meant it, you had no choice but to relent, swallowing down your pride as you said:

"D-Daddy please stop spanking my n-naughty pussy!"

Head hanging upside down from how you were placed over Uzui's knee, the blood rushing to your ears almost made you miss the way Uzui groaned.

"Is your poor pussy in pain?" he cooed, petting said pussy. It was hot to the touch, your pussy lips dyed a bright red, matching your ass. A man of his word, he spanked you as punishment for your bratty behavior and comments, holding you still as he rained spanks down on your poor butt, your hands tied behind your back, unable to do anything about it. Once he was satisfied with marking up your ass, he spread your legs a bit and started spanking your pussy, laughing at the way you twitched and shook, your cries of pain only making his cock get harder.

He slapped your pussy again, making you squeal. "Answer me."

"Yes! Yes- m-my pussy hurts so much Daddy!"

"Aww, poor baby~" he said, raining tiny pats on your cunt repeatedly, not as hard but still enough to make your body tremble, "have you learned your lesson?"

"Yes Daddy!" you said with zero hesitation.

"Are you going to act like a brat again?"

"I won't, I p-promise! I'll be good-"

"That's my girl," Uzui said, cupping your pussy gently, the warmth of his hand against your sore, red cunt making you gasp, "But we're not done yet. Make sure you keep your promise, alright?"

~~~~~

"U-U-Uzui-s-san! S-slow down p-please!" you squealed, voice jumping as Uzui jack-hammered into you, his hips practically a blur as he pounded your pussy. Fucking you from behind, he ignored your cries as he brought a leg up to better fuck you, laughing at your yelp and the way your pussy clamped around him.

"That's not my name," he growled, the grip he had on your hips bruising as he bashed his cock into your poor cunt, "What's. My. Name?" He spanked your ass three times to put emphasis on his words, your body jumping with each hit. Tears filled your eyes from the burn, no doubt a bright, red hand-print left behind on your already red skin. The burn of Uzui's hips slapping against you took your breath away, your poor spanked ass and pussy not getting a break.

"D-Daddy!" you cried out, eyes rolling to the back of your head as Uzui showed no signs of slowing down- if anything you felt his cock grow bigger inside you- "Daddy please- please- please slow down? P-Please!"

"Shhh, you can take it, right?" Uzui said, snickering as a hand grabbed the back of her head and pushed, smothering your face against the mattress, "Didn't you say you could handle me? Where'd your fight go?"

Your sobs were muffled by the cloth, his grip on your head unrelenting. You gripped the bed-sheets so hard veins were popping out on your hands, hands no longer tied up, your tears soaking into the mattress. The lack of air only made your body get even more sensitive, your pussy clamping down harder against Uzui's fat cock.

"You were such a fucking brat-" Uzui growled, feeling the familiar knot in his abdomen start to tighten, "Talking such big- fuck that's good- such big game! Saying you could take me- but look at you now. Pathetic~"

He gripped your hair and pulled, ignoring your cry of pain as your neck snapped back, your body following the movement until you were upright on your knees, Uzui's firm body pressed against your back. With a laugh, he let go of your hair only to then catch you in a choke-hold. His huge biceps pressed against your neck, restricting your airways, the man snickering at your feeble attempt to grab him. You were held up by his arm around your throat and his cock slamming against you, completely at his mercy, as you were the entire night.

"I like them pathetic~" Uzui growled into your ear before giving your lobe a bite, pulling on it with his teeth, making you squeal. Your face was turning a bright red, your mouth wide open and eyes rolling to the back of your head. The force of his thick member splitting apart your poor pussy combined with the warmth of his body behind you and the tight feeling of his arm against your neck- you never felt like this before:

Completely and utterly fucked.

You had already cum three times, the man fingering you to your orgasm after he spanked you and fucking you to climax out when he stuffed you with his cock.

Being wrong never felt so good.

His hips kept working into you, the slap of his balls against your cunt so obscene, you could still hear it despite the blood flowing around your head. One hand gripping his biceps while the other went back to grab at his thrusting hip, you held on for dear life, thoughts leaving your head as you sunk into a mental state where all you could think about was Uzui.

"Ooh~ That's what I like to see~" Uzui groaned, the expression on your face making his sadistic side purr in happiness. Seeing you completely fucked out and at his mercy- this is what he needed- this is what he craved.

"Fucked the brat right out of you, didn't I?" the man said, reveling in his accomplishment, "What was it you said to me? I can't satisfy one woman, let alone three? Hmm? Hmm?"

With a slap to your thigh, you yelped as Uzui's free hand went between your legs, his rough finger starting to twirl your clit around. "Daddy- no- too sensitive!" you pleaded, body twitching underneath his hold as you felt spikes of pleasurable pain run through you as he toyed with your sensitive bud, "Please- i'm sorry! I'm- ah- sorry!"

"Sorry for what?" Uzui growled, pinching your clit so hard it made you scream, "Be specific you naughty little brat!"

"I'm sorry f-for making fun of you!" you confessed, "Sorry for saying you're not g-good in bed- you're amazing- fuck- ah- ah!"

"All it takes is some cock to get to behave, hmm?" Uzui snarled.

"Daddy- i'm gonna cum- can I cum? Please?" you begged, knowing well from last time that he expected you to ask for permission. "Go ahead." Uzui said, hand working your clit even faster, "Greedy slut. Cumming four times while Daddy hasn't even cum once. You better make it up to me."

He chocked you even harder, veins popping in his muscles as he took your breath away, literally. The lack of air made your body go into overdrive, face red as your eyes rolled to the back of your head. Within seconds, you squirted all over his cock, the first time you ever experienced that, liquid gushing out of your pussy, dripping down both your bodies before seeping into the mattress. Uzui held your trembling body down, letting out a cheeky whistle as his hips didn't relent, fucking your orgasm for every single drop.

"Fuck! That was so fucking hot!" Uzui said with a laugh, "You're going to do that again." You could do nothing as he pushed you back onto the bed, your limbs having no strength to hold you up as you fell flat on your stomach, just lying down on the bed. But that seemed to be what Uzui wanted, the man following you as he lied down on top of you and started fucking you pro bone. You sobbed as his cock somehow went even deeper, slamming against your womb mercilessly. The weight on his body on you coupled with the ravenous feeling of his member fucking you within an inch of your life almost made you black out.

"Daddyyy!" you cried out, tears streaming down your cheeks as your pussy was pounded, "C-Can't cum anymore- please-" You probably said 'please' more time tonight that you had in your entire life. "You think you're done?" Uzui growled, hips not loosing their rhythm as he chased his pleasure, your pussy so wet and hot, he had to focus real hard to not climax immediately. It was only thanks to his training as a demon slayer that he could last this long- his breathing techniques allowing him to delay his orgasm as much as possible. If he was a normal man, no doubt he would have came ages ago. But it was thanks to his trained body that he could keep going which was good, because he wasn't done punishing you.

"No. You're done when I say so, understand?" You sobbed as a response. "You're done when I empty my balls inside this perfect pussy of yours and breed you- got it?" "Y-Yes Daddy." "That's a good girl. Don't pass out on me now, alright? I'll keep fucking you anyway."

~~~~~

You woke up the next morning, every inch of your body in pain and sore, especially your pussy which took load after load of Uzui's cum. You lost count how many times you came, the rest of the night being a blur and you remembered nothing but him breeding you. At some point he caught you in a mating press and fucked you so hard you swore you temporarily blacked out, waking up only to feel him fill your womb up again.

You sat up on the bed, looking to the side and scoffed at your reflection in the nearby mirror. You looked like a mess. Exhaustion was clear on your face, your eyes sunken from the tears you cried, hair a mess and your naked body littered with bite marks and hickies. You looked at your partner, the man looking the complete opposite. Silky white hair draped over his pillow, his skin clear and glowing with a soft smile on his handsome face.

You had an urge to smack his pretty face, annoyed at how much he wrecked your body despite the fact that you enjoyed every second of it. He truly brought out something in you and it was scary- but damn it was fun.

Deciding to listen to your intrusive thoughts, you raised your hand up to smack him, when he suddenly opened his eyes, greeted to the image of you with your hand raised. Thinking quickly on your feet, you gulped and blinked your eyes as you slowly brought your hand down to cup his cheek lovingly, rubbing it sweetly like that was your plan all along.

"...Because I wrecked your body last night, I'll let this slide." Uzui said, grasping your hand with his own before placing a gentle kiss on it, "But I won't be so nice next time."

"So there's gonna be a next time?" you asked with a smile, plopping down against his broad chest.

"Of course." Uzui said, running a gentle hand through your hair, "You belong to Daddy now."

[spookyrea]

... Though I'm Not That Flexible

(part 2 following You Can Wrap Me 'Round Your Finger)

You prepare to tell Loki you love him. Much to his embarrassment, Loki has to tell you something, too.

(aka - frost giant biology is weird and Loki has to suffer the consequences) (and you're kinda into it) (oops)

Chapter 2 / 2 -- read it on AO3 here

Word count: ~9k

Warnings: 18+ !! fem reader; courtship/nesting behaviour, smut (and I mean... smut)

You watched Steve haul himself into the boxing ring, internally groaning at the thought of going toe-to-toe with the Man with a Plan himself. 

Loki hovered at your shoulder looking decidedly out of place in a button-down and trousers; he was off the training roster for the week after Bucky had benched him for his ‘poor attitude’. The only people currently brave (or stupid) enough to spar with him were Steve and Thor, the latter of whom was banned from sparring with Loki indoors because of, to quote Pepper, the 'Thor-And-Loki Event' in June.

Privately, you agreed with Bucky’s assessment – Loki had been acting strange lately. Clingy, extra affectionate but equally as moody. Any time you tried to pry you were met with the same response – that Loki was “fine” and “had complete control” over the situation.

Sometimes the best option with Loki was to let him come to you. His desire for absolute control was multi-faceted, but it usually worked out best if he could ask for help and feel like he had an explanation as to why. You knew from experience that hounding him could dig up raw insecurities about worth and ability. So - you made the most of it; if Loki was going to be clingy, he could at least be useful and clingy. 

“Hold these, please.” You pushed your towel and water bottle into his hand. Loki accepted them with only minor complaint, tucking them under his arm to make room for everything else you were sure to pile onto him.

Steve rattled the ropes fencing him inside the boxing ring. “Come on, soldier. Don’t keep an old man waiting.”

Loki stretched to hide his sparkling fingertips; you knew his seidr well enough by now to recognize how Steve’s shoelaces unraveled with a mind of their own.

With his arms raised like that, there was no denying Loki’s ‘growth-spurt’ – the buttons on his shirt strained to stay in their buttonholes, gaping a little across his chest. You fought back a grin, watching a young intern (definitely part of Tony’s university pipeline program) spill water down her front while admiring the pull of yet another too-small shirt. A few of her friends giggled, their faces downcast but their gazes teasing, peering up through their eyelashes every few seconds.

“What?” Loki glanced over his shoulder in the direction you were looking.

“Nothing. Some kids are staring at you, that’s all.” You honestly weren’t offended - you remembered what it was like to want Loki from afar, and you weren’t blind. You knew passersby were going to gawk and shoot him longing stares. Loki, however, seemed uncharacteristically upset. His eyes narrowed, upper lip curled slightly in dissatisfaction, and he turned back to you with his shoulders drawn taut. He hooked his fingers in the pocket of your hoodie – Loki’s hoodie, actually, since yours seemed to have mysteriously disappeared – and tugged you into his chest, pressing a firm, dry kiss to your mouth.

You blinked dazedly at him once he’d slunk back. “Is this one of those ‘obviously not interested’ moments?”

He shrugged. “Something like that.”

“People stare all the time. It’s nothing new.”

“I know.” A pretty pink blush was creeping up his cheeks, warming his pale complexion. “I just thought it pertinent to make my intentions crystal clear.” Then, after a beat- “Do you think anyone would notice if I locked the changing room doors and had my way with you?”

You rolled your eyes. “Of course they would. Now– help me up. I have a senior citizen to cream.”

If anyone was getting creamed, it was you.

You circled the boxing ring on shaky feet, watching Steve round on you with that quiet cockiness of his. He flicked his stupidly perfect bangs out of his stupidly beautiful eyes and mimed a one-two punch combo while you considered giving into the universe and letting your limbs turn to oatmeal. Bucky sat in a folding chair on the sidelines, picking your scrimmage apart with his stupidly brilliant and equally beautiful eyes.

You hated them.

Bucky picked up on details you would never have noticed – your uneven stance, the angle of your elbow when you raised your fists – and, while helpful on paper, it only served to raise your blood pressure by a few degrees. Not helped by the fact that Bucky seemed to know what moves Steve was going to make before he did, so could comment on your form before you’d even finished a move.

PAL whistled encouragement when you just barely blocked a left hook. Tony had set him in Bucky’s lap so he could watch you and Steve train. (“He’s so little. He can’t see over anything.”) At least PAL liked you, even if he was out for blood.

“I agree with the pest, darling. You should wring his neck,” Loki offered from the sidelines. He leant his head on his forearms where they were draped over the ropes, his bored expression betrayed only by the way his brow furrowed whenever Steve got too close to landing a hit.

(You were admittedly not very good at hand-to-hand combat. As a telekinetic, your fists were usually a last resort in the field.)

“This would all be so much easier if you stopped - hey! - swinging so much.” You swept the back of your hand across your eyes, hoping to clear the sweat pouring into them. “Also, has your stuff been going missing lately?”

“Kind of defeats the whole purpose of combat training.” Steve frowned, then threw his body weight into a kick to your chest, which you only barely dodged. He stumbled but quickly corrected, spinning to catch your right hook effortlessly. “But no, nothing’s gone missing lately. Well, my veggie straws have been disappearing but I buy those because Bucky insists he doesn’t like them and then sneaks them from my cupboard. Has he been breaking into yours too?”

You squirmed, planting your feet and leveraging your upper body to try and pry out of his hold. Unfortunately for you, Steve was two hundred and seventy pounds of solid steel pretending to be flesh, so you might as well have been a leaf trapped under a fourteen-wheeler. “No. My pillows keep disappearing.”

Your feet briefly left the ground when Steve lifted you by the wrists. He dumped you unceremoniously on the padded floor of the boxing ring and proceeded to loom over you, his expression caught somewhere between amusement and fatherly rage. “Someone’s been perving on you?”

You pushed yourself upright, wincing when you felt your muscles protest the movement. “I don’t know!”

“Weird. Maybe you have a secret admirer. Loki!” Steve mimed an elbow drop but pulled his weight at the last second; he rolled to the side and sprawled out, all six-feet-four-inches of him laid out next to you without having broken a sweat. “Keep an eye on your girl, ya’ hear?”

Loki visibly preened at the idea of you being his girl. You felt a whisper of seidr across your cheek, a sparkling green kiss so fleeting it could have been a trick.

Steve squinted up at him from the floor of the boxing ring. “Are you bigger?”

“You’ve gotta start throwing punches, kid.” Bucky interrupted from the sidelines. PAL bobbed his head in agreement. “Look, I was just like you. A sharp shooter–”

“I’m telekinetic.”

“My point still stands. I did all my best work from a hundred yards away. But sometimes, in the field, you’re gonna have some guy get in your space and wail on you, and I need to know you won’t just fold like a deck of cards when that happens.”

“I’m sorry I’m not built like a tank, Bucky.” You swiped the edge of your shirt over your forehead, grimacing when the already-wet material slid over your damp brow. 

“I’m not saying you have to put on a hundred pounds of muscle. Just-” Bucky slipped under the rope and into your personal space, rounding on you from behind to wrap his flesh arm around your throat. His other hand shot out and circled your wrist, holding it at an awkward angle so that your muscles locked uncomfortably. “Just play dirty. If I get this close, I will kill you. So what are you going to do about it?”

You hissed, jerking under his metal hand. “Ow, Bucky, I get it–”

It took all three of you a moment to register that the noise rumbling through the air was coming from Loki. The fluorescents overhead flickered in waves, darkness ebbing and flowing from a point above Loki’s head. They buzzed and crackled unnaturally with displeasure. Bucky’s arms dropped away to put a bit of space between your bodies. Loki’s eyebrows drew tight in the middle, a scowl twisting his pretty face.

“Hey, My Chemical Mischief,” Tony yelled from across the gym. “Cool it with the dick measuring contest, will you? We get it, she’s a kept woman - I don’t think Barnes wants any of that.”

Thor laughed. Racking his barbells, he straddled his padded bench and flicked sparks of electricity from his fingertips, a strange side-effect that manifested whenever he strained himself. He taunted something to Loki in their mother tongue and the effect was instantaneous; Loki gaped at his brother, his growling cut short, and hurled something – an insult? – back. 

With a few words they reduced the other to adolescents. Though none of you mortals could even hope to dissect their twisting language, it was clear that the two of them were rehashing centuries of arguments all at once.

Loki reeled back when Thor, his nose tilted to the ceiling, punctuated a sentence with a nod in your direction. “You will do nothing of the sort,” Loki snapped in English.

“Loki.” Exasperation dripped from Thor’s tone, mingling with the kind of joy that came from lecturing a younger sibling. He folded his arms and shot Loki a smarmy do-as-I-say glare. ”This is only going to end in disaster.”

Loki’s jaw snapped shut with a click. His pinched expression seemed to push Thor to hysterics. Thor goaded him on, wagging a callused finger; Loki’s hand fisted at his side as he moved to strangle his brother.

They must have been terrible pests on Asgard.

In English, Thor continued: “I have never been happier that you were adopted. Oh, how the mighty have fallen. You’re preening. ”

Loki crossed the gym in a few long strides, a veritable storm cloud brewing over his head. The air crackled, ozone heavy in the air; the difference in pressure caused the open changing room door to slam shut, as if a draft had kicked up. Tony hopped to his feet, pointing between the two brothers. “Nuh uh. You guys take it outside. I am filled with too much scrap metal for you two to be throwing thunderstorms around inside. Again. ”

Loki grabbed his brother by the scruff of his neck. Thor stumbled, still laughing, and tucked his shoulder into Loki’s chest as if to throw him over it. Loki hissed something unintelligible - Tony hollered something unrepeatable - and then the two brothers blinked out of sight in a flash of bright green.

You ran into them in the lobby on your way back from the corner store that evening. Both of them were soaking wet, their plainclothes plastered to their skin. Loki brushed by you with a stormy expression, anger rolling off of him in palpable waves; Thor followed a few feet behind, decidedly more jovial. Loki called over his shoulder: “do not say anything, Thor. I’m handling this.”

They left a trail of rainwater in their wake, their shoes squeaking across the marble floor. Thor clapped you on the shoulder as you passed and, through the widest grin you’d ever seen, said: “my darling friend – make sure you use protection.”

A flash of green sizzled across Thor’s knuckles; he yanked his hand away with a shout, raising his hand to examine a line of fresh, pink welts. Loki hissed at him; Thor cast you a sideways look, then winked. To his brother, he called: “I am always right, am I not?”

Loki snapped his fingers, calling Thor to attention like a master might call their dog to heel. Except Thor was the oldest, and had a petty streak longer than the continental United States, and his younger brother’s displeasure clearly brought him unbridled joy, so Thor slung one arm around your shoulder and gave you a squeeze, rubbing his prickly cheek against yours for good measure.

You squirmed under his arm. “Is this another Asgardian thing?”

Thor answered “no” at the same time that Loki answered “yes”.

Loki stormed back to your side and wrenched his brother away, speaking in a low tone. Fixing his brother with a scathing stare, Loki rubbed his thumb over your jaw, then rode his hand down the curve of your neck to sit on your shoulder, as if to wipe the physical evidence of his brother’s touch from your skin. 

Thor sidled up behind Loki and scrubbed a hand over your cheek; Loki, hackles raised, elbowed his brother in the side, setting off a chain reaction of flying fists and snapping teeth. 

Your groceries were definitely melting. “I’m gonna go. Uh, Loki, you can… You can come upstairs when you’re… done…”

Loki, who was trapped in a headlock by his older brother, nodded jerkily to you. “Of course, dear– Thor. You foul–” 

You watched as your boyfriend transformed into a glossy black snake. He fell to the marble with a sad, wet slap and played dead, lolled tongue and all.

Luckily, your ice cream was mostly salvageable.

The shower was hot. Maybe a bit too hot. Steam cloyed, clouding your periphery and leaving you feeling flushed. You contemplated switching the tap a half an inch toward to the right, but then you risked overshooting and being too cold. 

“I’m being called away,” Loki said by way of greeting. He was still a bit damp; his hair had just begun to curl around the ends. The steam, its attention caught by the open door, billowed around him on its escape path. “I was going to tell you earlier, but my brother had other plans.”

“Oh, that’s not fair. Close the door, please?”

“Right. Sorry.” The door slipped shut with a click. Loki hoisted himself onto your bathroom counter, his hands clasped loosely between his knees while he watched you rinse the last suds from your legs. “Believe me, darling, I don’t want to leave you, but it seems that Fury wants my head on a stake.”

“Thor, too. What was that about?”

Loki waved a hand. “Brotherly taunts. Now would you hurry up? I want to ravish you before I’m a decrepit, thank you very much.”

“Give me a minute.” You turned your back to him for a better angle under the shower head. You heard the shower door slide open – you assumed so that Loki could ogle you properly – then startled when his shadow crossed over you.

“Loki!” You shrieked, cringing when wet cotton slid over your belly as he wound his arms around your waist. “You’re fully dressed! You can’t– bad! Naughty!”

“I was already wet. Now I’m warm and wet.” He tsked, rubbing his cheek against the curve of your shoulder with an arrogance only a prince could muster. “I just couldn’t resist.”

“You’re going to regret this.”

“Truthfully, pet, I don’t think I’ve ever felt less remorse in my life.” His wet fingers fumbled with the top button on his shirt. The plastic was slippery and the buttons small, so it took more than a few tries to get the first one out; by the time he had wrenched the third free, he was cursing. “Ok,” he said around a laugh. “Maybe I’m a little remorseful. But this is your fault, let it be known.”

“My fault?”

“Yes.” Two more buttons down. Loki growled, then tore the rest of them out with a firm jerk of the button placket. They scattered, bouncing off the tile with tiny sounds, and Loki struggled to pull the sleeves off his skin. “You’re so beguiling. I’m– I can hardly tear myself away.” He threw the shirt through the open shower doors, then considered his trousers. “Oh, nevermind.” With a flick of his wrist, the last of his clothing melted away. “Why do I even bother, honestly?”

You tipped your head back against the shower wall and hummed, enjoying the simple pleasure of Loki’s nearness. He was a vision under the spray, dark hair plastered and curling over pale skin and pink lips parted, glossy with water. When his fingers crept over your hip to tease the skin under your ribs, your chest soared, the hollow space between your lungs aching ice cold. 

(You loved him). 

(You promised yourself you would tell him when he returned from whatever mission Fury had assigned, come hell or high water - and you almost believed it.)

When you opened your eyes, you found Loki to be looking at you with the most peculiar hunger. “What?”

“I can’t look at you?”

“I wouldn’t call that ‘looking’. I would say you’re eating me with your eyes.” You rolled your shoulders, then reached around him for the tap. “I’m starting to feel a bit dizzy. Let’s dry off and you can tell me all about why Fury is taking you away from me.”

“You mean you let me suffer through that whole ordeal for naught?”

“I didn’t ask you to climb in here fully clothed. Now– chop chop, loverboy. You’re closest to the towels.”

He left in the early morning. It seemed to take a great deal of physical effort for him to extricate himself from your bed, even greater than it did on Sunday. By the time he had slipped into his last piece of armour, his breath was short and tense, and his mouth turned down in a harsh curve.

“Are you okay, sweetheart? You don’t seem yourself.”

“I’m fine. Just don’t… Just wait for me, okay?”

You were a couple seconds behind, your brain still heavy with the early hour. “What do you mean, honey?”

Loki shook his head. He leaned his weight on the edge of the bed and curled over you, pressing a dry kiss to your cheek. “Don’t worry yourself. Go back to bed.”

“I can help–”

“I have it all under control. I’ll be back in a few days.” He said the last part like he was trying to convince himself more than he was you.

Only three days later and you were going a little stir-crazy. Maybe whatever clinginess-disease he had had rubbed off on you.

You couldn’t take it anymore – you missed your boyfriend. He had been scheduled to return that morning but another impromptu snowstorm had pushed his arrival back by a day, leaving you with an empty afternoon to putter. But once your laundry was done and your shower scrubbed, there wasn’t much left to do besides twiddle your thumbs and marathon episodes of Forensic Files. 

You took the elevator to his floor and let yourself in with a spare key. Your shoulders dropped, an unregistered tension draining as you breathed in the familiar smell of Loki’s cologne and lavender incense. There was a certain comfort in the menial reminders of him – his shoes by the door, his coat on the rack. You tossed your keys on the kitchen counter. “So much for man-eating wolves.”

You half expected his fridge to be barren, considering how much time he had spent over the last week in your apartment, but you were pleasantly surprised to find it well stocked – too well stocked. Whatever occasion he was preparing for was unknown to you, but he seemed to be anticipating an apocalypse or city-wide shortage of seasonal fruits and vegetables. You helped yourself to some from a pre-cut container and shuffled toward his bedroom to take a nap.

You stopped dead in your tracks under the threshold.

“You are the pillow thief.”

Fabric was draped languorously from every surface - a stack of quilts over his desk chair, pillowcases folded neatly on his dresser. The curtains were drawn tightly, two or three panels layered on top of each other to block out as much natural light as possible. He appeared to have gathered every pillow in his apartment - and a few of yours - and piled them in a semi-circle against the headboard. A few had fallen to the wayside, at the foot of the bed or scattered across the carpet, and a great spread of throw blankets was draped across the comforter. You could just make out the corner of one of your t-shirts peeking out from his pillows.

There was a decidedly two person-sized divot in the centre of it all, like you were meant to burrow in together.

“What have you been up to, my darling boy?”

You crawled across the covers and peeled them back, layer by layer. More of your shirts tumbled out, as well as a hoodie and a cashmere scarf. It was bewildering to say the least, but not entirely out of the norm for Loki. (He once spent two weeks meticulously replacing all of your cutlery with a mismatched charity shop set, so what was a little blanket theft, really?) You just couldn’t quite put your finger on why he had chosen this prank, nor why he would bother to build a veritable nest out of his spoils.

Tired and more than a little giggly, you tucked yourself between two comforters and curled up on your side. You’d have to ask him when he got home.

(In his defense, it was really comfy).

You blinked awake to the sound of your phone vibrating. It took you a moment to find it among the layers of blankets and pillows but eventually you wrenched it free and swiped accept. “Hello?”

Loki’s voice carried through the little speaker. “Where are you? You’re not in your apartment.”

You rubbed the sleep out of your eyes. “That’s because I’m in yours.”

There was a long, drawn out silence. Then, “you’re what?”

“I’m in your apartment. Which– you have so much explaining to do.” You pushed yourself out of his bed. Through the phone, you heard FRIDAY greet him and a familiar jingle when Loki punched the button for his floor. 

“I�� You weren’t supposed to see that.”

You laughed. You could hear him struggling to find his keys, his anxiety palpable even through the phone. “Loki, was this some sort of prank to keep me from refusing to sleep over?”

“No, it…” His keys ground in the lock. “It was…”

You pulled the door open for him. He blinked owlishly at you, his phone pinched between his shoulder and his cheek.

“Hi,” you said, and your voice echoed through his phone.

He ended the call. “Hi.”

The two of you walked together, Loki on tentative feet while you guided him, pulling on one of his harness straps until you were through the threshold. His bag slid from his shoulder with a thud; he was still wearing his armour, which you smoothed your fingers under and began to unclasp piece by piece, setting it on the table by the door.

“Loki,” you glanced up at him through your eyelashes. “Do you want to explain the nest in your bedroom?”

His shoulders tensed. “Thor, you bastard.”

You worked one of his leather straps free, tossing it aside. “What?”

“Just - ignore this,” he said. “Go back to your apartment. I have to go kill my brother, and then burn everything I own, and then maybe I’ll be able to scrounge up the dignity to see you before sunrise.”

He made an aborted movement to turn out from your arms, but you reached out with your mind and slid the deadbolt in place before he could slip through the door. “Nuh uh. What does Thor have to do with this? Is this about your fight? I haven’t spoken to him since I ran into you two in the hall.”

“Wait.” It was your turn to face Loki’s ire, it seemed, because he whirled on you, his finger raised accusingly. “How did you know about the nesting then?”

“I was joking.” You pulled the final knife sheath free, leaving him in his leather breastplate and heavy wool trousers. “I mean, you piled all of our collective pillows into a queen-sized bed. Do you mean to tell me you’re actually nesting? Is this another Asgardian courtship thing I should know about?”

“I-” Loki looked like he wanted the ground to swallow him up whole. A familiar curl of self-consciousness had begun to spoil his expression. He turned his cheek and spit out a curse. “Nevermind.”

“Loki, please.”

“It’s nothing.”

“Fine,” you huffed. “If you tell me your secret, I’ll tell you one in return.”

If there was one thing Loki loved more than self-pity, it was being let in on a secret. His eyes bolted up from glaring a hole into the hardwood to catch yours, assessing your deal. “Do not make bets you cannot pay, darling.” 

“I already have the perfect secret picked out. Explain.”

He watched you for a long time. Eventually, with a very careful, measured tone, he opened his mouth to speak. “I’ve never… Oh, this is humiliating.” Loki scrubbed his hand through his hair. “Asgardians know very little about Jotun customs. It’s… We didn’t have much need to study them, outside of battle. But it’s common knowledge that frost giants… mate for life. They pick someone to bond with and when they’re serious… In the spring… ”

 “Loki,” you cooed. “Humor me.”

He groaned and slunk to his knees before you. His forehead pressed against your hip while both his hands curled around your calves to steady himself. He mumbled something unintelligible against your leg.

You ran your fingers through his hair. “What was that?”

Loki sighed. “When they find a suitable mate they try... I’m… My biology is trying to entice you to tie yourself to me. Forever.”

“So the nesting thing? And the um… the clinginess?”

He toyed with the edge of your t-shirt. “Yes. I… I get quite upset when you don’t respond favorably to my… advances .”

“I picked up on that. Wait,” you pinched the meat of his bicep. “Is this why you’re getting bigger?”

“It appears that my glamours are failing, yes.”

“So what you’re telling me is that you’re growing in some new plumage to woo me with?” You trailed your finger along a featherlight path over his jaw. Lowering your voice, you couldn’t help but tease him a little. “Are you going to sing for me next?”

A scowl twisted his expression into something mean. “You forget who you’re speaking to, mortal.”

His tone did nothing to dissuade you. So rarely were you the one with the power to tease and you intended to take advantage. “Anything else I should know?”

“Well, if I’m already speaking candidly…” It came out bitingly, Loki’s voice laced with a burning mix of self-deprecation and frustration. “I can hardly think about anything else other than bending you over every available piece of furniture and fucking you until one of us passes out.”

“Loki,” you warned as his fingers wormed their way under the waistband of your pants. “We’re finishing this conversation.”

“Later, darling.” He pushed them down an inch and pressed his mouth to your hip. “Let us at least enjoy my biology for a little while.”

“Loki.” The air crackled, seidr whispering across your skin where the two of you connected as he considered testing your resolve. You felt the phantom impression of hands around your wrists, which you shook off with a glare. “Down.”

His lip curled in displeasure but he obeyed, sitting back on his heels. “It’s infuriating. Let’s just pretend it’s not happening.”

You joined him on the floor, drawing your knees up to your chest. “What does it mean to… ‘mate’?”

Loki’s shoulders rounded and bowed; he tilted his face away from you, hiding his expression behind a wall of thick, black hair. “You just… are. You’re partners for life. A family. I’m not sure there are words in any mortal language to explain the breadth of it.” He rubbed a hand over the back of his neck. “It seems my biology has decided that you’re a good match for… that.”

“Loki…”

“I love you.” He said it so plainly, as if he was commenting on the weather. Your heartbeat turned hot and dizzy as you watched his long fingers trace the floorboard, his words rattling around in the space between your ears – I love you, I love you, I love– “I want to spend the rest of my life with you. You’re wearing my ring, and my knives, and my clothes. You smell like me–”

“Wait–”

“I built you a nest. I’m not human. Your priorities are in desperate need of reassessment if that’s the part you’re uncomfortable with.” Loki rolled his eyes, that bit of familiar petulance peeking through his foul mood. “Anyway. It makes sense that my body would choose you. That I would… would want to convince you...”

“You know you don’t have to convince me.”

Loki picked at a knot in the wood, a loathsome smile curling the corners of his mouth. “Oh, but I do.”

You couldn’t bear the distance any longer; you crawled the last couple of feet to wrap your arms around his chest. He tipped into you, pressing his cheek against your shoulder and drawing in a deep, shuddering breath. Yet, despite his pain, a part of you sang as you stroked a line down his cheek. You were loved and in love – what greater joy was there than that?

Not for the first time in your relationship, guilt welled up in your chest. Being in love with Loki felt a little like learning a new language; he was so capricious, so aloof, that you sometimes felt like you were left out of a joke when he teased you, or flirted, or sidled up to touch you. It often wasn’t until afterward that you became aware of the fact that he was being sincere, that his teasing was earnestness wrapped up in a barbed tongue. 

His fingers slipped under the hem of your shirt. You might not have always understood his advances, but you would try to. For him, you would always try.

“Is there some sort of ritual involved? Do I have to cover myself in runes or something?”

He shook his head against your chest. “I think it just… happens. I’m not sure. There are very few intricacies about frost giant habits with which I’m familiar. But based on how my body is responding, I would assume it boils down to ravishing you on every surface available to me.”

You hummed. “And what will happen if we ignore it?”

Loki, turned mute by anxiety, drew a line down your arm with his knuckle. Finally, he mumbled, “I’ll be fine. I’ll just be very… sad. For the next few days.”

“Sad?”

“I know logically that you’re not, but it feels… Like you’re rejecting me.” 

“And how do you want me to respond?”

He sneered again and ducked his head, dragging a hand over his face frustratedly. “I want you to bare your throat to me.”

You couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled up inside of you. “What?”

The glare Loki shot you was bitterly cold. “Do not pretend that you misheard me.”

“No, no, Loki,” you reached out and twined your fingers together. “I mean, surely there’s more than that, right? You want me to do the same things for you? To- to nest? I’m not going to hunt a stag or something for you but I can definitely, like, go to the butcher and get you a prize cut.”

Loki shook his head. “I just want you to accept. To accept me .”

“And the throat…?”

“I can’t stop thinking about it.”

You ran your finger along the edge of your t-shirt, where it sat snugly against your collarbone, and watched his pupils dilate. Wordlessly you tugged on his hand, drawing it up to your neck, and placed it there loosely. “That’s it?”

His hand tightened, fingernails catching ever so gently against your skin. “You heard the part where I said that frost giants mate for life, yes?”

You nodded. “Mhmm.”

As if possessed, Loki leaned forward to nose at your pulse point. “So you understand that this… this is forever.”

“And ever and ever?”

“Brat.” His teeth scraped across your skin. “I’ve grown tired of this one-sided vulnerability. I believe you promised me a secret, pet.”

“I did.” You took a deep breath. “I love you, too.”

His fingers stilled around your throat. He seemed to not even breathe as he considered your confession. With a calculated effort, Loki peeled his hands off your neck and his voice, deep and rumbling with restraint, cut through the silence. “You should run.”

You blinked. “What?”

“Unless you want me to fuck you here on this cold, hard floor, I suggest that you run back to that pretty little nest I made you.”

A hot flush washed over you, starting in your cheeks and pooling in the pit of your belly. Loki leaned forward and sweetly kissed your collarbone, then reached up and tore your t-shirt down the middle.

“Loki!”

He smiled against your cheek. “I wasn’t joking, my love.” He sat back on his haunches and folded his hands in his lap, his gaze simmering with something molten hot. Though he moved slowly, projecting a characteristic aloofness, you could see the tendons in his neck straining as he worked against instinct to hold still. He grinned, all teeth, and jerked his chin toward his bedroom. “Run.”

You scrambled to your feet. The hardwood was slippery under your socks. You took a couple tentative steps backwards, watching the way Loki’s eyes raked over you like a butcher pulled pork. Your skin buzzed under his gaze as if you were standing under a powerline, electrified by a well of energy crackling overhead. 

His control was crumbling by the second. The faucet was leaking– Tony had promised he’d have someone over within the week to fix it – and the water beading on its edge began to sizzle and pop, blinking out of existence in green bursts. The microwave display went black as Loki’s seidr overwhelmed the kitchen’s circuit breaker; the hum of the refrigerator died with it, plunging the room into an unnatural silence, so heavy that you could hear your own breath catching in your chest. Loki shifted his weight to his knees.

Your heart thrilled.

You broke in unison; you started to run at the same time that Loki sprang to his feet. A laugh bubbled up out of your chest; you reached out with your mind and swept the cushions off the couch, pelting Loki with them before he could reach you. He swore, and a tongue of emerald light crackled at your ankles, nearly tripping you. You stumbled but managed to make it over the threshold of his bedroom door. Something collided heavily with the wall behind you, followed by the sound of debris coming loose and littering the floor.

You landed with a bounce in the center of the bed, sending a cascade of pillows tumbling to the ground. Loki appeared moments later, breathing heavily and bracketing the door with his arms. He must have tripped during the chase; dust and bits of drywall covered his left arm. His irises had disappeared, carved to mere slivers by his blown pupils. Your breath caught in your chest when you noticed the line of his cock, hard and wanting, straining against his pants.

You shrugged out of your ruined shirt while Loki stalked across the small bedroom, still dressed for battle. He swatted a discarded pillow out of the air when you used your powers to raise it, then shredded another one in an eruption of light and feathers when you tried to catch him from behind. A low purr rumbled through him, melting into the hum of his seidr as it thrummed through the air.

Sensing he would tear through every scrap of fabric you managed to throw up between yourselves, you yielded slowly, tipping your chin back, drawing his attention to your throat.

Loki’s body hit the bed with a muffled thump. He crawled up the length of you on shaky limbs, pressing a grateful, sloppy kiss to your mouth before moving down to your pulse point. Burying his face there, Loki dropped his full weight on top of you. “You really should not indulge me. I might never let you leave.”

“I’ve always been terrible at saying no to you.”

He laved at a spot on your neck. His hips pinned yours against the mattress, shifting against you aimlessly as his arousal heightened. Experimentally, you pressed your leg into him; a groan tumbled from his mouth before he closed one hand around your thigh and rutted up a little more purposefully. “Love. My little love.”

Loki pushed up to his knees and pulled on the strap holding his breastplate in place. You sat up on one elbow and pinched your bra clasp with the other hand. It had only just come undone when Loki worked his hands under the band and tugged it off of you roughly. You tsked in retaliation, then pulled his armour over his head. Just as soon as it hit the floor, Loki was crawling backwards, sliding his hands down your thighs with a heavy reverence.

Your pyjama pants joined the scattered mix of armour and plainclothes on the floor. Now that you were completely bare, Loki slunk up to admire you, leaving a wet trail of kisses over your body until he reached the thin skin over your pulse. One of his hands pushed your knees apart to draw featherlight circles across your inner thighs. 

You tugged on his hair, trying to convince him to lean up and kiss you properly. Loki grumbled but did not concede; his left hand slipped from between your legs and took your wrist, jamming it against the headboard before returning to run circles around your clit. When you pulled, you found your arm immobilized; a tangle of green light pinned it in place above your head.

“Rude,” you gasped. Loki smiled against your neck, dragging his chin through a trail of his own spit.

“Evil,” he agreed.

“Can you at least- at least take your pants off?”

The air shifted; when you glanced down, you were pleased to find that Loki had magically done away with the rest of his clothing, giving you an unobstructed view of his lithe body. You hummed, satisfied, and slid your free hand down his back to palm his ass.

Loki lazily drew his middle two fingers up and down your slit, toying with you in a display of casual dominance. Occasionally he would dip into you, pressing only far enough to leave you wanting before retreating to trace an intricate pattern of knots between your thighs. Despite the hard weight of him, nestled in the cradle of your hips and burning hot with desire, he seemed determined to take his time tangling with you. You rocked your hips, seeking some sort of pressure or friction, and were met with a haughty grin against your breast instead.

You babbled. You begged. The fingers between your thighs patronized you, pressing but never breaching, circling but never stroking. 

Finally, though you suspected it was due to his own neediness and not the way you were pleading, he raised his head to kiss you, sliding his tongue, hot and possessive, over yours. Between the teasing pressure at your cunt and the burning weight of his cock against your hip, a desperation paced in the space between your ribs that left you aching, left you wanting. You tugged a little more firmly at your restraint. When that didn’t budge, you worked your free hand under him to run your fingers up and down the underside of his cock.

The bedside lamp buzzed and flared. Loki nipped at your bottom lip. “I’ll take away your other hand if I have to.”

And yet, despite his warning, Loki slid his fingers inside of you, a little deeper, curling slightly, and pressed at that soft spot you needed him to touch. A smug curl of delight rose in your belly, that you could make him so docile with a touch. You closed your hand around his cock and pumped him slowly, testing your sway. 

“Pet,” he pleaded. “Just let me take my time with you.”

You bit back a sigh when he sat up, blinking wide cow-eyes down at you with an expression bordering on insecurity. “Please, Loki. My love.”

He choked out a whine. His eyes shut tightly for a heartbeat, eyebrows creased deeply in the middle. Your hand slipped free from the headboard – victory – but before you could really enjoy your freedom, Loki flipped you over on all fours.

“If all it took to domesticate you was a four letter word, I would have said something sooner.” One of his hands came down in a warning tap against the side of your thigh. You gasped out a laugh, turning your cheek to catch a glimpse of him. His fingers were splayed over his eyes, partially obscured by his wild hair, and his mouth had turned up in a grin, his usual cool demeanour betrayed by a giddy kind of anticipation. You pressed back against him. “Is this the part where you fuck me?”

He tugged you upwards, manhandling you onto your knees in front of him. You felt his chest mould to your back as he shuffled closer to slot his cock between your thighs, tauntingly, sliding through slick, heated skin, his cockhead bumping against your clit with every pass when his hips met the plush of your ass. “Oh, I’m not going to fuck you, darling.” 

You reached between your legs to guide him inside you, but Loki snatched your hand by the wrist and held it there, so his cock glided just along your fingertips, occasionally catching at your entrance only to pull away at the last second.

“I’m going to lay claim to you. I’m going to breed you,” he panted against the shell of your ear. Your thighs clenched tight when Loki pressed the heel of your hand against the lip of your mound, applying pressure to your aching clit. “I’m going to ply you until you are limp and then I’m going to fill you until you are dripping, understand? I’m going to mark you so thoroughly that you will never be rid of me.”

He pressed even harder, rolling your hand by the wrist. His eyelashes brushed the heated skin of your cheek as he pressed his face to yours, drinking in the closeness of your body. “And when all is said and we’re sated, I’ll make love to you. And that’s a promise.”

Your eyes squeezed shut. You whimpered, your back arching into him while he worked you higher and higher. Loki murmured praise against your skin. “Okay?”

You nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m okay.”

He smiled against your shoulder. “Excellent.”

One of his arms hooked under your breasts, holding you up and flush against his chest. The other tilted your hips back, so you were nearly sat in his lap.

“Can you…” Loki huffed out a laugh against your skin. In a small voice he asked, “Tell me you love me again?”

There was no universe where you could deny him that. “I love you. Loki, I love you. Loki–”

Your eyes squeezed shut as he fed you his cock, inch by delicious inch, until you were fully seated against him. He swore, then growled out another stuttering laugh. A hot breath washed over the shell of your ear as he tucked his chin against your shoulder, and an experimental roll of his hips had you jolting in his arms, your toes curling when he slid over that spongy, sensitive spot inside of you.

“God,” you gasped.

He hummed in agreement, slipping his free hand between your legs to apply a firm pressure to your clit. His head rolled against your shoulder as he started a slow, teasing pace. “Pretty thing,” he cooed.

You felt his eyebrows furrow against your back. His mouth dropped open, panting hot air across your shoulder blades. Your hands shook, fisting in the bedsheets; you felt tears well behind your eyes as sensations overwhelmed you, a bit of pleasure and a bit of pain. You choked out a moan, a gasp, his name cut short.

“Loki. Please. I can’t.”

“You can,” he said against your shoulder. The hand between your legs grew a little desperate, sliding in tight circles while the rest of him worked you at his mercy up and down his cock. “You’re going to be good for me, aren’t you? My pretty little mate,” he continued. “You are, I know you are. You’re going to come for me, and then you’re going to take what I have to give you. You’re going to let your mate fill that little cunt of yours and you’re going to be grateful, hmm?”

You gasped, squeezing your eyes shut. You were teetering on the edge of a knife, a knot in your belly drawn tight but threatening to unravel at any moment. A gasp tore from your chest when Loki changed angles, pulling you down with more force while leveraging his body weight to thrust into your harder. Your head tipped back onto his shoulder and you squealed, one hand flying behind you to anchor yourself against his hip.

“Yes,” Loki gasped. “Yes, that’s it darling.”

Relief washed over you for a heartbeat, a small coil shattered as Loki worked himself into you. You rocked back against him, writhing in his iron grip. The pressure on your clit eased away for a moment before doubling down, his middle two fingers burning molten pleasure in their wake as seidr sparked over your skin from his fingertips. Chasing relief in your body, he mouthed at your shoulder a little mindlessly. Your name tumbled from his lips, a plea, for what you weren’t sure.

Small sounds were punched out of your chest with every thrust, growing in volume as he went on and your body buzzed with overstimulation.

“Please,” you begged. One of your hands curled around his forearm, gripping him tightly, while the other fisted in one of the long-forgotten pillows. “Please. Please, Loki.”

Your legs clamped shut when your orgasm finally crested. Loki swore, tumbling, stuttering to his own edge before plummeting; he tugged you down and held you there, spilling inside you with a shaky groan.

Finally, he lifted you off his lap and slid out of you. You tried to turn over in his arms, but he tipped the two of you onto your sides and held you in an iron grip against his chest. He mumbled something foreign in your ear, intercut by the occasional sigh or a press of his mouth to your sweat-slick skin.

You tried again to turn around but Loki held you still. “Give me a minute,” he panted.

You squirmed. “But I want to kiss you.”

Loki leaned over your shoulder and kissed you, his eyes squeezed shut. Hardly satisfied, you tried to hold him in place, but your exhausted limbs were no match for him; he slunk back out of sight only a moment later.

“Loki,” you whined. His arms tightened.

“I’m not… myself right now.”

Slowly, you rolled over in his arms to face him and soothed your hands up his chest. An attractive flush coloured his pale skin, spreading from the top of his stomach to the highest points of his cheeks. You picked a flake of drywall out of his hair. 

His eyes were downcast, shuttered and turned away so you couldn’t see into them. “I don’t want to frighten you,” he mumbled.

You tilted his face up; his eyes had changed, the irises gone red. They weren’t quite gemstones, or cherries, or robins or cardinals. The same red as poppies, maybe. Startling against his pale skin, framed by thick, dark lashes, but so deeply endearing, swimming with emotion as they flickered back and forth over your face.

You must have been quiet too long; Loki huffed and buried his face in his pillow.

“No, wait,” you said. “Come back. Let me look at you.”

“No. I can’t bear it.”

“Stop being dramatic. Let me look at my pretty boyfriend.”

“Your pretty boyfriend is out of commission, I’m afraid.” His voice was muffled. He patted the bed until he found the comforter, which he then pulled over his head petulantly. “He can’t seem to control himself right now. He’ll come out later.”

You wormed your hands under the blanket and pulled it back from his face. Loki sighed and peered up at you from behind his pillow, his eyes barely open to slits to glare at you. You pushed a curl off his forehead, followed by a dry kiss to his cheek. “You know your eyes change colour all the time, right?”

“But the green is handsome. Intimidating,” he grumbled. “This is…”

“Gorgeous.”

“Horrifying,” he countered.

You pouted. “That’s my mate you’re talking about.”

That seemed to break the spell he’d fallen under. You felt the gentle brush of his fingers first, then the smooth slide of his hand down your side to hook around your hip. He drew you into his chest so he could press a sweet kiss to your shoulder. “Hi.”

You returned his smile. “Hi.”

“You’re really not afraid?”

You pushed a stray pillow off the bed, trying and failing to extricate one of the blankets to drape over your bodies. Loki had been right about one thing - it was freakishly cold this week, and the chill was beginning to needle your sweat-damp skin unpleasantly. “Honestly, I’m more worried about the food in your freezer going bad. You blew a fuse in there.”

“Midgardians. You have no sense of self-preservation.” Loki reached out to help tuck you in. 

“Mhm… Coming from the guy whose favourite schtick is ‘pretend to grovel until you think up a better plan’.”

“That is, by definition, self-preserving.”

“Whatever. You blew a fuse. And maybe fixed the leak?”

“I also punched a hole through the wall.”

“Tony is gonna be so mad at you.” You scraped your fingernails across Loki’s scalp, drawing a deep rumble from his chest. “Ok, five more minutes and then we need to get cleaned up.”

“I think you’re mistaken, pet. We’re not leaving this bed for the rest of the week.”

You rolled your eyes. “I’m not risking a UTI for that.”

Loki groaned. He pulled his mouth from your neck just long enough to kiss you. “Fine. Shower?”

“Yes, but we’re just showering. I don’t want to get waterboarded like last time.”

“Of course, darling. Not in the shower.” He kissed you again, slowly this time, coaxing your lips apart with a thumb on your jaw. When he finally pulled away it was with a hiss and a sticky, wet sound. “Although I do intend to bend you over the sink so you can watch yourself fall apart first.”

“Oh?”

His red eyes found yours. They narrowed, sparkling with mirth, as he gathered you up in his arms. “Tell me again,” he purred, “how much you love me. I might just have mercy.”

You did.

He didn’t.

Not that you minded.

[murdrdocs]

this but from miguels perspective (gn!reader)

he thinks he's maintaining composure during the call. he manages to hold off the growl between his words, and his eyes are the usual amount of narrowed, so he thinks he's truly not being that obvious. but the envy sits heavily in his chest and the jealousy almost blinds him and of course, there's the devil on his shoulder to taunt him as soon as the call ends.

"were they just ...?" lyla's question doesn't need to be completed for miguel to know what she's asking.

"yea, lyla," annoyance is clear in his voice. to an outsider, maybe it's the usual annoyance that comes from miguel o'hara. but to the one who knows him best, it's a dose ten times bigger than usual.

"oh, someone's jealous." it's singsong, a direct taunt at his expense, something lyla's best at.

"i'm not jealous i'm upset that i now have to find another spider-person to fill in for spider-punk." lie. well, not completely a lie but mostly a lie.

lyla's tone says she obviously doesn't believe him. "uh-huh. sure." but then she's gone, and miguel's left to click on his watch and pull up the audio recording of hobie's call. all calls are recorded for ... archives and such, so it's not that weird.

miguel just needs to let out some frustration before he can focus again. he knows lyla will handle getting someone for the mission, he just needs 10 minutes on his own, with your moans lowly playing in the lab, and his fist wrapped around his cock.

he spits in his hand, the quarter of his suit between his navel and his knees disappears, and he plays the bit of audio that's clearest with your moans. when hobie deliberately paused to "think" about when he was next free, leaving miguel's ears to warm as his overactive imagination conjured up images of you, under the spider-person who upset him most.

his hand turns sloppy as he thinks about how hobie doesn't deserve you. he's too insufferable, too immature, and from the one accidental meeting miguel had with you, he could tell you were the opposite. you were sweet, pretty, the softest features and the most comforting eyes as you offered tea to the spiderman who'd jumped out of a portal and into your home.

miguel remembers scowling at the mix of items that were yours and hobie around the place, but his features leveled out when he saw you, wearing a long shirt that stopped mid thigh, a little bit of toothpaste crust at the corner of your mouth, and a bright smile as you tentatively approached hobie and miguel.

he felt disgusting in the moment, thinking about what you had under that shirt, if you even had anything under the shirt. you were young, clearly hobie's age, definitely too young for miguel, but so much nicer than most young adults, a simple fact that drew him to you even more.

he couldn't help but think about if you and hobie had just had sex while he accidentally stumbled over his words, having to take a pause all together as hobie shamelessly pulled your back to his front and rested his chin on your shoulder.

now, images of how embarrassed you'd looked then flashes into miguel's mind. is that what you looked like while your boyfriend fucked you on call to his boss? maybe your face was scrunched a little more with pleasure. maybe there were tears running down your cheeks, a show of humiliation and satisfaction.

fuck, miguel really wanted to make you cry. he wanted to see those pretty eyes well up with tears while he bounced you on his cock. not on hobie's. miguel wanted to wipe the salt water away, kiss them away, and continue to make you feel good.

he distantly realizes that he's groaning now, grunts thrown in there as his hips chase his own hand. it's messy, a little shameful, but the thoughts are coming into his head quicker than he can process.

pictures of you bouncing yourself on his cock, head thrown back. pictures of you begging to cum because you know that miguel controls when and if you do. pictures of you playing with yourself, putting on a show for him, moans high pitched and vulnerable like they are now as you beg for help.

and just as he's about to come, hobie speaks, and miguel sees a picture of the two of you, hobie being the one to get you off, eyes locked with miguel with that usual taunting look in them. but for once, it doesn't upset miguel. at least not when warm spurts of his own cum is spurting out of his dick and onto his previously clean skin.

[goldsbitch]

can I request a Lando x reader where the reader’s weakness is when people stroke her hair? Her mind goes completely blank and she falls silent immediately when people stroke her hair and Lando uses it at his advantage.

Fluffy pls and ty🫶🏻

omg, i love this prompt so much - thank you and hope you like it!!

This is one is dripping with sweetness a little too much, don't say I did not warn you. No other warning.

Lando was born a tease, oscillating between clueless and shy, to unapologetic and bordeline dickish. It all depended on the setting, his relationship to the person and how much sleep he got the night before. Sometimes your boyfriend was the sweetest little thing, giggling shyly about everything instead of coming up with an actual response, and the other times he was a walking menace actively seeking every opportunity how to get you into a flustered state.

You and Lando were full on deep in the beginning of your relationship, the sweetest part of the honeymoon phase. To put it bluntly - fucking almost non stop. And the desire was never-ending. Blinding sunshine kissed good morning to every day you two got to wake up next to each other. Problems seem to be non existent. Bliss.

It was the way his hair curled when he got a little bit sweaty, his toned body what you were desperate to explore from every angle and the need to know every little secret trick that worked on him. It became some sort of a game, who would get better at knowing the other. Which one of you found all the buttons to push.

Lando rose up that morning and chose violence. Metaphorical one, of course. Snuggling up to you in order to wake you up as well for some morning work out, as he like to call it. Whispering sweet nothings to your ear and touching you all over your body. But you were just incredibly sore from the past few days, physically unable to keep up.

"Why don't you love me anymore," he pleaded jokingly as you murmured another weak appeal for your sleep.

"Lando, you know I love you more than anything," you replied, still half asleep. But it was hard to distinguish as reality resembled a sweet dream everyday lately.

"I remember when you used to want me, physically," he kept going.

"We literally had sex few hours ago, stop whining," you kissed him between your words. He looked at you with his incredible eyes, little devil dancing in each one of them.

"Exactly, too long ago. Wish I could go back in time when you were not sore and get inside you all over again."

You simply laughed, absolutely smitten with this lovey dovey side of him. His words made you melt like butter sitting under direct sun. You brushed your noses together and then he kissed you.

The best part of romantic relationships is the one that you cannot absolutely share with other people, the almost embarrassing pleas, desire and gross goofiness, simping at each other all the time.

"Fine, if you play by these rules, I'll come back with my own revenge," he said finally as you inevitably had to start getting ready to go to the paddock with him.

Today was the big day. You'd been spotted in public countless of times, the "girlfriend" title officially sitting on your head for weeks now. But this was the first time you were to join him in the paddock as a wag. You were trying to hide your nervousness, but he saw right through you. Before you exited the apartment, he made you stop and took your face in his hands. "I'm happy I get to do this with you. I love parading you around, for everyone to see that we're a team." You smiled, his words hitting like first snowflakes of the year. "Poor Oscar, I can't wait to finally trauma dump the shared misery you bring to our lives," you jokes and locked lips with him once again. "God, it's terrifying how much I like you," you said automatically, without having to think about it.

//

It actually wasn't as bad as you'd expected. It was definitely weird and strange, but not necessarily bad. Having Lando by your side as you passed the gates definitely helped. The photographers were lined up as people at a shooting range would and it did feel like that at first. But as quickly as you were initially overwhelmed, fatigue took over you and you blocked their ever-presence out. Trying to chat up those Lando introduce you to and memorizing the names. You knew how much some of these people meant to Lando, so you were trying to be at your best behavior. The thought that his friends would hate you in the same way as some of his fans haunted you.

In the middle of all the rush, you parted for a moment. To be honest, little peace of quiet and chill was something you appreciated. But remember, Lando woke up and chose violence this morning. And his plan was quite simple, yet bulletproof.

"Y/N! There you are, my love," you heard from coming from behind you. "I have someone to introduce to you! I'm very much sure you'll appreciate meeting him." As you turned, you saw Daniel Ricciardo walking your way with your Lando. You were a little perplexed as to why Lando was so cheerful about that. You clearly remembered him getting very upset when you admitted to him that at some point in the past, when formula 1 was a world far away from you, that you had a minor crush on Daniel. Which obviously went out of the window once you met Lando. That did not mean that Lando was 100% ok with it.

"Y/N, as I'm sure you know, this is Daniel, hell of a driver and good friend of mine," Lando continued and you knew him well enough to know he had ulterior motives. Not sure what to do, you smiles shyly and shook Daniel's hand.

"Hi, Daniel," you said, eyes flinching between him and Lando. You were full on preparing for anything. Lando's smirk almost had a life of his own at that point.

"Nice to finally meet you, Y/N. I've heard quite a lot things about you!" Daniel opened, life of the party as per usual.

You chuckled. "All good things, I hope!" And with that, Lando stepped behind you and put his arm around you.

"Only the best," he said, leaned closed and inconspicuously started to stroke you hair gently. Oh, he did not just go this low.

It was slow, yet like tidal wave. You stopped breathing for a moment. Your body relaxing, as if you'd just taken the world's best sedatives. The way his hands made you feel was etherial. It was the same sensation the luckier ones experienced when listening to ASMR and the less fortunate ones sometimes called an orgasm. Shivers slowly traveling around your whole body, every part becoming sensitive out of nowhere. You weren't able to look at Daniel, let alone continue speaking. Lando was more than aware of what touching your hair did to you. He'd discovered this trick quite early on. And it was his favorite one.

"So, where are you from?" Daniel attempted at small talk. But how could you possibly give a fuck at that moment. Not that your body would even allowed you to respond. The only thing you were able to take in from the outside world were the soft slow movements Lando's fingers were doing, blocking everything out instanteniously.

Daniel stared at you, waiting. From his perspective, this was a very awkward meeting.

Lando answered for you, with a smirk you did not see, but could feel from the tone of his voice. "You have to excuse her, she is bit shy in front of new people."

You could not give less of a fuck at that moment of what these two were saying. Your lips were starting to shiver from getting so sensitive. You took a short breath and someone who would be standing close and knew you well would know, that what escaped your mouth was not a nervous laugh, but something very close to a moan.

Lando and Daniel were saying words, but none of that was important, while Lando's fingers were working his magic. He would only leave your hair alone once he saw Daniel leaving.

You wanted to be mad at him. But you were still sort of high from all the sensation bomb Lando dropped on you. You slowly turned around to face him, coming down from your own personal nirvana.

You took a deep breath while he watched you without a blink and biting hims smile away.

"You promised," you let out air that got stuck in your lungs somewhere along the way. "You promised you would not do this in public." Your brain was slowly wiring up to normal again.

"I told you I'd punish you for the morning," he said as if it was the most amusing thing ever. "Also, if Daniel is my competition, I'm going to use all the advantage I have."

Lando had a way of looking at you that made you unravel instantaneously and there was no way of stopping it. There was just something about his smile that did it for you. As anyone who is properly in love, you could not imagine somebody being able tor resist that. In your love soaked mind, he was irresistible. To a normal mind, he was probably just a regular guy, but that idea was unfathomable to you.

"I'm pretty sure that after what I just pulled, you will not have to worry about Daniel liking me," you chuckled, having to accept that Lando won this one.

"I would never let my guard down...But yeah, I think this one is pretty safe," he chuckled once more. You kissed his overly proud face and promised to yourself to get back at him later, in the privacy of his bedroom.