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#trying not to fall asleep at work so i thought why not make some gifs
demon4dilfs · 11 months
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wolverine receiving his adamantium and escaping the lab in x-men the animated series 
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pedantic-poison · 7 months
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Delicious | LN4
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pairing: fem sainz!reader x lando norris
genre: SMUTTTTT, 18+ MINORS DNI, p in v, fingering, light choking, use of pet names (darling, baby, sweetheart, good girl, etc), cream pie, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it y'all!!!!), language, hold the moan vibes, dirty talk, Lando being a hoe
requested: yes!
word count: 3.9k
author's note: i LOVE me some brother's best friend trope
When your older brother first joined McLaren, you were unbelievably proud of him, so, naturally, you moved heaven and earth to make it to his first race with the team. Meeting Lando, you finally understood why all of Carlos' stories from before the season started were about his new teammate, and how much he made him laugh. He was friendly to you, and kind, and had a knack for making sure you never felt out of place. He also made your chest go a little tight, but you chose to ignore that feeling. Best not to complicate things for your brother.
It's been years since you first met Lando, and you can't quite use that excuse to convince yourself you need to avoid Lando. You still try, certainly, but it doesn't really carry the weight it used to, not with Carlos at Ferrari now. Would it still be messy? Maybe. Would it be a complete shit show? ...Probably not, right?
That little tendril of doubt created just enough space for that weird feeling Lando elicited to bloom. And now, with the Summer break giving Carlos time off, he's invited Lando to your family's home, for an entire week.
"Morning," the sound of Lando's voice snapped you out of your thoughts. As if it wasn't already bad enough that he was staying in your house, now Lando had the audacity to show up in the kitchen, voice gravely from sleep, with a pair of gray sweatpants hanging low enough on his hips to show the V-line of his muscles there. Your eyes trailed up his torso, allowing yourself to indulge in his tan skin and taut muscles for just a moment, before your gaze met his. A knowing look danced across his face, eyes glinting with mischief, as he smirked at you over his mug of coffee.
"Oh, um, good morning," you coughed out, embarrassed at having been caught. "How'd you sleep?" you managed to force out.
Lando took his time, finishing his sip of coffee before answering, "Slept alright. Couldn't fall asleep for a while, for some reason, though." You couldn't quite decipher the look on his face while he said it, but he didn't give you enough time to overthink it. "You?"
Your face heated immediately at the reminder of what exactly you'd been doing last night, instead of sleeping. "F-fine, thanks." It had been four long days where Lando had made himself seemingly unavoidable. Even at night, when you could close your door to the rest of the house, and lock yourself away, your thoughts strayed back to Lando no matter what you did. Last night, the ache in your core had gotten so unbearable that you'd touched yourself to the thought of him. It seemed that even the walls of your room couldn't quite keep Lando out.
"What's got you thinking so hard over there, Sainz?"
You schooled your expression, refusing to let him throw you off balance again. "Wouldn't you like to know, Norris." The coffee mug in your hands hid your face rather well as you lifted it to take a sip, leveling him with a look that you hoped seemed like a challenge.
Pushing off the counter he'd been leaning against, Lando took a step closer to you. "I really, really would, actually."
You allowed yourself to lean in for just a moment, inhaling the smell of him, before pulling back. "Too bad." Chair legs scraping against the floor as you pushed away from the table, standing and taking your mug and book with you.
"Oh, come on! You're really gonna tease me like that?" he whined, shouting at your back as you headed up the stairs.
"Gotta make you work for it, Norris!" you called back, retreating into your room once again, giddier than you'd care to admit, and telling yourself that you'd only left because you had work to do. Certainly not because you weren't sure how much longer you'd be able to hold on with Lando under the same roof.
Just three more days.
The loud splashes and laughter from outside drew your attention away from your book, for what felt like the hundredth time in two minutes. Sighing exasperatedly, you rolled over on your bed, craning your neck up to look out of your window.
Carlos and Lando were in the pool in the backyard below you, squealing like little kids as they hit each other with water balloons. You rolled your eyes at the childish behavior, even as you fought (and failed) to keep a smile off of your lips. You heard your father's voice ring throughout the house, and Carlos and Lando must've heard it too, because they quickly dropped their makeshift weapons at the call that they needed to get cleaned up for dinner. Your parents weren't terribly strict, but even they preferred for everyone at their dinner table to be fully clothed and not dripping everywhere.
Just as you'd made your way out of your room to head downstairs, you froze, finding a sopping wet Lando Norris in the hallway. Even after you (accidentally) ogled him this morning, you couldn't manage to keep your eyes on his as you watched the way the droplets of water fell off the ridges of his chiseled chest and torso. You hadn't quite noticed how close you'd come to running into each other, barely a foot of space between you, that seemed to shrink more and more the longer you stared. And you weren't the only one. The sundress you wore hung off your body in a way that made Lando want to memorize every line and curve of it himself. Looking wasn't enough - he'd always been more of a hands-on learner, anyways. And the way the gentle breeze swirled the skirt of it around your hips and legs made him want to find out if you were wearing anything underneath it. Made him want to rip anything he found there off with his teeth.
"Hermanita! Lando! Dinner in twenty minutes!" Carlos shouted up, from the sound of it in the kitchen, most likely helping your parents like the doting son he was. Helping, unlike you. Standing in the hallway, now only inches from Lando, chest rising and falling erratically as you tried to convince yourself that you should not fuck your brother's friend and former teammate in your parents' house with your entire family downstairs.
"Twenty minutes," Lando breathed, barely above a whisper. He took a final step forward, mouth painfully close to touching yours as his spread into a mischievous grin. "I can work with that."
His lips crashed into yours, hands gripping your face delicately as he did so, moving only after yours landed in his hair. Lando finally, finally, got his hands on those hips that had been torturing him, tempting him, for years, squeezing as he pulled you into him. Your fingers raked through his curls, tugging gently as you pushed him backwards into your room. He went willingly, grinning into the kiss at your enthusiasm as you kicked the door shut behind you, letting you take charge for the time being and falling to the bed when the backs of his knees hit it, hands dragging down your thighs as he went. For a moment, you paused, taking in the way Lando was looking up at you. Adoring. Reverent. Hungry.
His hands on your thighs urged you forward to straddle him, sliding his grip up your back to pull your torso flush with his. "God, these fucking tits," he groaned, squeezing you harder into his chest before sliding his hands around to your front, cupping them harshly. Through lidded eyes, you watched his hands, large, nimble, and veiny, knead your breasts while he hummed appreciatively, unable to look away from your chest for even a moment. "Been waiting to get my hands on you for so long, sweetheart," he heaved, speaking into your skin as his lips trailed over your exposed chest, just under your collarbone, punctuating the statement with a final, firm squeeze of your tits.
Before you could finish the whine building in you at the loss of his hands, Lando had yanked down the flimsy straps of your sundress, allowing your tits to spill out over the neckline. Lando swears he could come from that sight alone. "You're so gorgeous," he muttered, more to himself than to you, before looking back into your eyes, "so fucking gorgeous." His lips found yours again, stealing your breath as one hand reached up to ghost over your nipple, already sensitive and hardening from the cool air in your room, while the other lowered to rest on your waist, gently urging you to rock your hips against him at your own pace. "So," his kisses now landed on your jaw, "so," your neck, "beautiful. I think it might actually kill me," gently nipping at your pulse point before soothing the tender skin with his tongue.
Your breath had grown shallow from the attention he paid to your neck and chest, hitching as he tweaked your nipple just right, almost harsh enough to be painful but light enough to make you crave more. But what caused your breath to quicken was the feeling of Lando under you. Those strong, muscled thighs, bracketed by your own, felt so firm you couldn't stop your mind from wondering how they would feel if you ground yourself against them. The way they tensed as he moved, or restrained himself from moving as he tried to let you set the pace, felt so delicious against your thighs and through layers of fabric, you can't imagine how they would feel flexing against your core. Delicious as those thoughts were, they would have to wait for another time, because nothing was more tempting than the press of his hard cock against you, straining at the material of his swim trunks, the remaining water of the pool dampening your already wet panties.
"Shh, sweetheart, we've got to be careful," Lando startles you, the hand that had been on your tits gently closing over your mouth, and only then did you realize just how much noise you'd been making. Your cheeks heated at the realization, feeling your breath catching in your throat, rapid and uneven, whimpers and whines and a whole host of other, embarrassing sounds trapped beneath the firm press of Lando's large hand. You were so worked up that even that thought, the sheer size of his palm against you, how those thick, nimble fingers would feel between your thighs, made you whine louder, hips speeding up as you sought some kind of friction. Lando's eyes darkened as you ground yourself onto him, harder, faster, hand tightening around your waist and thighs flexing underneath you. He was holding back, you could tell, his restraint hanging by a thread, and every move you made threatened to fray that thread to its breaking point.
You wanted to make him snap.
There would be another time to savor this, to take your time, to memorize every inch of him, later.
You raised one of your hands from his broad shoulders, gripping the hand that covered your mouth and tapping twice. Immediately, Lando removed his hand, eyes filling with concern that he'd done something wrong, but before he could ask you were already whining again.
"Please, Lan," you begged, hips pressing down as harshly as you could manage. "Need you so bad, please, please," your voice was thin and breathy, and if you weren't nearly delirious from finally having this, having him, within your grasp, you might've been embarrassed by it. "Don't tease me, I c - can't take it."
Lando's head fell back with a groan, making no effort to silence himself as he did with you. "Fuck, darling, you want me that much, huh?" You nodded eagerly, hips continuing their grind as you felt Lando's cock twitch beneath you. "Such a desperate little thing, aren't you?" he asked, latching his mouth on the flesh of your breast, sucking a harsh mark into the delicate skin. Low enough that your family wouldn't be able to see, you realized, but dark enough that you'd have a reminder of him on your skin for the next few days. The thought made you flush with heat. The sudden bite of Lando's teeth on your tit shocked you out of your haze. "I asked you a question, sweetheart."
You blinked down at him, bleary eyed, "W-what?"
His grin was wicked as he looked up at you, "Aw, poor baby's already going cock dumb and I haven't even fucked you yet." Your cheeks heated, and he didn't give you the time to gather yourself enough to formulate a comeback. "I asked if you were a desperate little thing for me? You desperate for me to fuck you stupid, darling?"
A whine escaped your lips, unbidden, at his words, and the look in his eyes told you he wouldn't let you deny its cause. "God, yes, Lan, yes I'm so desperate for you, want you to fuck me so bad, I - fuck -"
The sensation of his fingers sliding your thong to the side scrambled your brains again, scattering any thoughts you'd managed to gather. The rough, calloused pad of his thumb brushed over your clit, and your body rocked violently into his hold, chasing the pleasure. "Keep talking to me, sweetheart, tell me what you want. Tell me all the filthy things my pretty little girl wants me to do to her," he whispered into your ear, lips going back to attacking your neck.
"W-want - want you to - ah- fuck me with your fingers, think about those p-perfect hands all the - fuck - t-time, want your thick fingers in me before you fuck me, Lando," you moaned out, pushing through even though your whines threatened to interrupt you.
"Good girl," he purred, sliding his middle finger through your folds, moaning into your neck at the feel of you. "So fucking wet f'me, darling, fuck," his left hand tweaked your nipple, as his right slowly sank a finger into you. The sound he let out was almost animalistic as he felt you clenching around him, reacting to the stretch that even one of his fingers made you feel. "Holy shit, you're so tight, baby," he lifted his head to be level with yours, wanting to watch your face as he touched you. "How am I gonna fit my cock into this tight little pussy of yours if you can barely take one of my fingers?"
The only answer you could give him was a needy moan, one that had his left hand going back up, not to cover your mouth, but to rest on your throat. "Shh, remember, sweetheart, you don't want your parents to hear us, do you?"
You shook your head fiercely, but immediately lost your train of thought again as Lando began to pump his finger in and out of you, slowly to let you adjust. His thumb landed firmly back on your clit, and the way he curled his long, thick fingers had him reaching a spot inside of you you'd never managed to reach before.
"What else do you want me to do, darling? Don't tell me you've already gone brainless? I've barely gotten started with you."
"Want more, Lan, want you to stretch me with your fingers so you can fuck me, want to feel you - oh, god," you barely managed to catch yourself before you screamed at the feeling of Lando pushing another finger into you. Even though he was aided by your wetness, Lando slowed his pace as he let you adjust again, easing into you as gently as possible as he maintained his circles on your clit.
"Want to feel me what, sweetheart?" he encouraged, curling his fingers to that same spot, this time hitting it hit his index and middle fingers and making your brain short circuit.
"Want to - Lan - w-want, I, fuck," you babbled, head falling to the crook of Lando's shoulder as you struggled for words.
"Come on, now, darling, be a good girl and tell me what you want. You do want to be a good girl f'me, don't you?" He chuckled lightly at how quickly you nodded, head staying buried in his neck.
"I- I want t-to feel you in me, feel your cock in me, feel you stretch me out with it, f-feel you fill me up - stuff me full with you, with your cum, leave me dripping with it."
The hand on your throat tightened harshly, briefly, before both of Lando's hands were off you and working on his swim trunks. "Jesus christ, baby, you've got a dirty little mouth on you. Such a perfect fucking girl for me, darling, such a dirty little thing, god you're perfect," he mumbled the praises into your mouth, stopping every so often to kiss you tenderly, hungrily, as his hands made quick work of the tie on his swim trunks, pulling them down enough to let his cock spring free. Your eyes widened involuntarily at the sight of it slapping against his stomach, the hard muscles of his abs and the red, leaking tip of his cock mesmerizing you.
You lifted your hips, allowing Lando to yank you closer to him until you hovered just over his cock, both of your hands bracing against his shoulders as one of his went under your dress to guide his cock through your folds.
"You want me to fuck you, sweetheart?"
"Yes, please Lan, please, ple-"
You had to cover your mouth with your own hand this time, the stretch of his cock making your eyes water, tears springing from them. Lando stared straight into your eyes as he sank you down onto his cock, bottom lip trapped between his teeth in a feeble attempt to silence himself. Both of his hands landed on your hips, gripping harshly as he held himself back from fucking up into you right away.
"God, baby you're so tight, you have such a perfect little cunt," he panted, eyes fixed on yours, not wanting to miss a single expression on your face. Finally, he bottomed out, the slow glide of his cock in you heavenly, fingers flexing against you as he forced himself to be patient.
A weak whimper left you despite the hand over your mouth as you slowly rose up, dropping harshly back onto Lando's cock and digging in your fingers at the sensation.
"Fuuuuuuuck," Lando ground out, hips bucking slightly up into you as you sank back down on him again.
It didn't take long for your legs to begin to shake, pace faltering as you grew tired. "Lando," you breathed out, head nestled in the crook of his neck again.
"Yes, darling?" His voice was thin, reedy, telling you he was just as affected as you were, even if he was better at hiding it.
"Can't - can't," your own gasp interrupted you as the head of Lando's cock hit a particularly sensitive spot inside you. "Too tired, need you to - god."
Lando chuckled, chest rumbling underneath your forehead, "You need me to do it for you, baby? You already too fucked out to move?"
"Please," you whined, unable to muster any embarrassment at the desperation in your voice. He knew he did this to you. Why bother trying to hide it?
Something in your neediness got to him, hands sliding up to your waist and squeezing as he gave himself a better hold on you. "That's a good girl. Don't worry, sweetheart, I've got you."
He lifted you off his cock, before slamming you back down onto him, hips fucking up into you harshly. The feeling of him manhandling you with ease was nearly enough to make you come on its own, but that combined with the way he kept hitting that spot inside of you, over, and over, and over again? You were so close you felt like you were going to explode.
And Lando knew it, too. Could tell from the way your hands scrabbled for purchase on his muscular shoulders, the way your head went limp on his shoulder as you gave him complete control over your body, from the way you clenched around him, and when he dropped one of his hands to graze a thumb over your clit as he fucked up into you, you were helpless to do anything but collapse into his embrace as you rode out your high.
Lando continued to hold you up by your waist, limbs sluggish and heavy, as he chased his own high, spurred on by your whimpers of overstimulation. But what finally pushed him over the edge was the sound of your voice, wrecked and fucked out, whispering weakly in his ear, "Please, Lando, please fill me up."
He came with a groan that he tried to bury in your neck, nipping lightly at the skin as he came down, chest heaving and moving you with it since you still hadn't managed to regain control of your own body just yet. The feeling of him painting your walls made you whimper, unintentionally clenching around him again, which elicited a deep groan from him.
"You keep squeezing me like that, darling, and you're gonna get me hard again."
You giggled, which earned you a playful swat on the ass from Lando, chuckling along with you as he stroked your cheek tenderly, admiring you in your post-orgasm haze.
"Lan-"
"Dinner is ready! Hurry up and get down here, we're starving!" The sound of your brother's voice jolted both of you out of your stupor, matching looks of panic on your faces.
Before you could say anything else, Lando whispers, "We're talking about this later tonight, sweetheart." Placing a kiss on your cheek, Lando lifts you off of him, hissing at the feeling, and setting you on your bed next to him before getting up and running across the hall to his room.
After you managed to muster the strength to move, you quickly fixed your dress, trying to make sure that your face and hair weren't dead giveaways for just having had the best sex of your life. You rushed downstairs, blaming your breathlessness on having run to dispel your mother's concern, and sat down quickly, trying to avoid any questions about what had taken you so long.
A few seconds later, Lando joined you, sitting across from you, eyes burning into you in a way that made you shift in your seat. That turned out to be a huge mistake, because just as your brother passed you the salad, Lando's cum leaked out of you as you realized belatedly that not only had you not cleaned up, but you hadn't even put your panties back on. You froze, quickly shifting back and squeezing your thighs together in an effort to stop him from seeping out of you, and miraculously, none of your family seemed to notice.
But the way your eyes widened told Lando exactly what had happened.
When your parents asked how the dinner was, you stammered out some poor excuse of a response, not really knowing how to speak to your family with Lando's cum dripping out of you.
Lando shot you a wicked grin, winking quickly enough that no one else saw it, and stared right into your eyes as he answered.
"Delicious."
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fushic0re · 4 months
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❝𝐀 𝐇𝐔𝐒𝐁𝐀𝐍𝐃❜𝐒 𝐆𝐔𝐈𝐃𝐄 𝐓𝐎 𝐃𝐑𝐔𝐍𝐊𝐄𝐍 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐅𝐄𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒❞
⊹ ࣪ ˖ 𝗦𝗔𝗧𝗢𝗥𝗨 𝗚𝗢𝗝𝗢, 𝗦𝗨𝗚𝗨𝗥𝗨 𝗚𝗘𝗧𝗢, 𝗞𝗘𝗡𝗧𝗢 𝗡𝗔𝗡𝗔𝗠𝗜, 𝗧𝗢𝗝𝗜 𝗙𝗨𝗦𝗛𝗜𝗚𝗨𝗥𝗢, 𝗔𝗢𝗜 𝗧𝗢𝗗𝗢, 𝗦𝗛𝗜𝗨 𝗞𝗢𝗡𝗚
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𝐃𝐚𝐲 𝟏𝟎 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝑹𝒊𝒌𝒂𝒏𝒆 𝑾𝒐𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝑨𝒅𝒗𝒆𝒏𝒕 𝑪𝒂𝒍𝒆𝒏𝒅𝒂𝒓 ⋆.ೃ࿔*:・
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𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒 ─ 18+ ONLY; MINORS DNI. alcohol consumptions. drunken antics. smut; penetrative sex, sex in a public space. slightly cracky. 
𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 ─ in true hallmark movie fashion, the holiday party ends with your crush getting so drunk that he spills professions of love. 
꒰ ͜͡➸ 𝐈𝐅 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐄𝐍𝐉𝐎𝐘𝐄𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐘, 𝐏𝐋𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐄 𝐆𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐈𝐓 𝐀 𝐑𝐄𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐆! 𝐑𝐄𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐒 𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒❜ 𝐁𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃 & 𝐁𝐔𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑! ♡
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SATORU GOJO 
Whiney. Clingy. Horny. 
First of all, we know this man is a lightweight. Don’t even be surprised that he’s easily swayed by the influence of alcohol. 
At some point (for his own sanity of course) Nanami tried to curb him whenever he wanted another drink…but he gave up. 
So now you’re stuck with a very drunk Satoru Gojo 
One minute he’s being his usual irritating self, the next he’s practically slurring as he blurts out really, really stupid shit. 
You’re desperately trying to reel him in because your students are literally in the same room as you and do not need to see their teacher drunk or hear the inappropriate things he’s saying. 
But Satoru Gojo cannot be stopped. 
He also cannot for the life of him contain any of the feelings he has for you in his body. So despite the fact that he would probably benefit more from throwing up all the sake bombs he’s had, he throws up drunken confessions. 
Though it’s no secret that the both of you harbor feelings for each other, neither of you has explicitly acted on them…until now. 
“My GOD. You are so pretty. Like, I wanna take off my blindfold to appreciate you fully but your beauty just makes my eyes huuuurrrt!” “...Thank..you? It’s definitely your Six Eyes though–” “No, it’s all the pretty.” 
“Heyyyyy, dance with me!~” 
Yelling “I WANNA HAVE SEX WITH YOU PLEASE–” across the room. 
Nobara for sure gets it on video. Megumi and Maki are appalled. Yuuji and Panda standing there with no thoughts behind their eyes. Toge’s lowkey entertained but will continue to remain to look unbothered. Nanami is rubbing his eyes and sighing deeply. Shoko for SURE eggs him on. Masamichi is ready to throw them both out. 
You take it upon yourself to try and see if someone can get him home while you continue to celebrate with the kids, but Shoko is too drunk. That leaves…
“Nanami, can you–” “Absolutely not. Have a good night.” 
And that’s how you end up hauling that man back to your apartment…because he caused a scene when you tried to take him home to his. 
Literally just clings to you and cannot be detached from you for the life of him. 
You set up a bed for him on the couch, but the second you turn around–
“I wanna sleep with youuuu!” Satoru whines, hugging you tightly from behind as you wash your face for the night. “Why are you kicking me out?”
You sigh exasperatedly before shooting him a stern look. 
“Satoru. Couch. Go.” 
You go to lay in bed and after having your eyes closed for only five minutes, your door opens and he’s crawling into bed behind you whining.
“Wanna stay here with you. You have more pillows.” “I can give you extra pillows if you want som–” “Boobs. I want your boobs :D” 
At that point, you literally just give up. He’s spooning you from behind, clinging to you so tightly that you literally feel his dick hardening against you as his large hands knead your breasts. 
His mouth is pressed right to your ear, murmuring promises as he begins to finally fall asleep.
“I swear…when I’m more sober, I’m gonna fuck the shit out of you. Promise.” 
You both take work off the next day. Everyone knows why. 
SUGURU GETO 
Seductive. Suave. Charming. 
When Suguru gets enough alcohol in him, he turns into such a romantic. 
Everyone thinks you guys are together and have been together for a while solely based on his body language. 
Without any inhibitions left to deter him from fully expressing his fondness for you, he allows you to be his center of gravity–when you move, he moves. 
His body naturally leans towards yours. He adjusts his body so that it’s clear his attention is only on you even when you’re not speaking. No one else exists to him. 
Very put together. If it weren’t for him being more flirty than usual, you wouldn’t even think he was under the influence. 
Whisks you away shamelessly away from other people when he feels like you’ve been giving them more attention than them. 
You’re talking to a group of coworkers when suddenly Suguru comes up from behind you and places a hand on your waist. 
“Excuse me, ladies. You wouldn’t mind if I stole this beauty away for a dance, would you?” He purrs. 
But he’s not asking. By the time he’s done speaking, you’re already being swept away by him. He doesn’t even wait for a response, nor does he care to notice the way said coworkers gawk at you jealously. 
This man literally twirls you around the dancefloor with a big smile on his face. His eyes never leave yours. 
“What’d gotten into you?” You laugh softly as he dips you. 
He simply shakes his head and chuckles. 
“Nothing. I’m just really in love with you and there is quite literally nothing in the way to get in my head or stop me from saying it anymore.” 
It’s a simple, straightforward, and intimate confession that is oh so Suguru. 
KENTO NANAMI 
Our main is a heavy drinker who can handle his liquor expertly, so…you’re the tipsy one. 
You, Satoru, Shoko, Utahime, and Kento are all at a sushi bar celebrating a successful semester and the steady growth of your kids. 
Too swept up in the good vibes, you don’t stop yourself from having a drink of choice with Shoko each time she orders a sake bomb. 
Little by little, your laughs increase until they’re filling the room. 
Kento is the first to notice, glancing down at you with a barely noticeably softened expression as all of your worries are alleviated–even if it’s just momentarily. 
The two of you worked more closely than the others knew. Yuuji had taken a close liking to you, so naturally, you and Kento convened often to discuss his progress and needs. 
Of course, these little meetings extended into ones of a more personal nature like grabbing lunch, a bakery run, or even a simple walk. 
It was safe to say that Kento Nanami, the adult of all adults, had developed a soft spot for you. 
Which is why he can feel his face heat up and his heart begin to pound against his chest as your head falls against his shoulder, giggling as you stare up at him. 
Unable to help himself, he gives you a gentle smile, placing a hand on your cheek. 
“You’re really warm.” He comments. “Would you like to get some fresh air?” 
“Yea! I wanna see all the twinkly lights the stores have put out!” You chime, tugging on his sleeve. 
The blond affectionately groans before helping you into your coat and slipping his on, stepping out of the booth. 
“I’m taking her for a walk. We’ll be back.” “Ooh! Can we–” “No.” 
With that, he helps you up and out of the restaurant, your hand clasped in the crook of his arm. 
Your friends are suddenly sobered up at the table, shooting each other shocked expressions. 
“...You guys saw that right?” 
Meanwhile, you and Kento are walking down the street leisurely as you literally babble nonstop. 
“I wanna take Yuuji here for dinner one day, we should go together! It’ll be really nice for us both to spend time with him, since we’re basically like his parents right? You know what parents do? Kiss! Why haven’t we–” 
Kento halts your runny mouth with a finger pressed to your lips, the most honeyed expression on his stupidly handsome face as he gazes at you. 
“As adorable as you are at this moment, I really want to have this conversation with you when you’re mind is clear enough to remember it.” He whispers, pulling your coat around you tighter as a gust of wind blows by. “We’ll talk tomorrow. Okay?” 
TOJI FUSHIGURO 
Toji literally cannot get drunk, so guess who's spilling their guts? You.
You’re out with some girlfriends for a Friendsmas dinner when the sangria hits you all a little too hard. 
Your best friend is left with no choice but to take your phone and call the guy you’ve been seeing to come pick you up. 
While you loved Toji, admitting it yourself–but especially him–was a terrifying concept to you all because of a certain little sea urchin-like haired toddler…Megumi. 
God, you loved that kid. You loved him to absolute death. He practically felt like your own child. Which was even scarier because what if things didn’t work out between you and Toji? What if one day he decided that his late wife couldn’t be replaced? Would he resent you? 
All of that reservation flies out of the window when you’re carried into his apartment and are greeted with a sleepy Megumi in the doorway, having been watched by a neighbor. 
“Mama?” 
You literally sob. It’s quite embarrassing considering your inebriated state, but the emotions cannot be contained any longer. 
The toddler frowns, his father’s expression mirroring his own. He had never seen you so…fragile. 
“God, I love you guys.” You confess tearily. “I’m so sorry that this is how you have to hear it but–” 
Your interrupted by two forces against you; muscle arms around your shoulders from behind and a small body hugging your front tightly. 
“Silly, mama.” Megumi giggles. 
Toji’s deep laugh fills your ears alongside his deep, adoration-laced tone. 
“Yea…silly mama.” 
AOI TODO 
Friendsmas gets a little too lit when the great Aoi Todo is around. 
Yuuji playfully insists on trying every flavor of Soju and of course, his brother tags along.
But in true Aoi Todo fashion, he does things with a little too much gusto….he’s drunk as shit now. 
Eventually, the girls decide to break off and convene at your place for a sleepover, having had enough of the boisterousness for the night. 
You’re literally minding your business having a conversation with Mai, Maki, and Nobara while Momo and Miwa make everyone some late night noodles when suddenly a love song by Takada is being blasted from your balcony window. 
“This that…?” Miwa squeaks, clearly caught off guard. 
It definitely is. The flow of the cursed energy, Takada blasting, there’s no questioning who the hell is outside of your window. 
Nobara already has her phone out to document the moment, the Zenin sisters are snickering as they stare at you, Momo is actually floored. Miwa…beyond floored. 
“You have so much shit to tell us.” Nobara laughs. 
“Yea, what did that happen? You and Todo?” 
“NOW apparently!” You whisper frantically. “What do I do–” 
“TO THE LOVE OF MY LIFE IN APARTMENT B347, THIS IS FOR YOU!” 
You’re literally shoved outside to confront a drunk Aoi Todo singing along to his idol as Yuuji holds a Bluetooth speaker in the air next to him. 
“You guys…” 
“Y/N I WANNA MARRY YOU, REMEMBER THIS MOMENT WHEN IT’S TIME TO TELL OUR FUTURE KIDS HOW WE MET–” 
“Please come inside!” You hiss. 
“DO YOU SHARE THESE SAME SENTIMENTS OF LO–” 
“Yes, for the love of god, I love you too, but please come inside before I get evicted.” 
“SUCCESS, BROTHER!”
SHIU KONG 
 Horny. That’s it. 
You’re with him at some fancy restaurant dressed to the nines for a business dinner with colleagues of his. 
Every person at the table is shady at very best. Hell, yourself included. 
But there are no thoughts of right and wrong when a tipsy Shiu whose lips taste like the smoothest, finest whiskey assault your own as he thrusts into you vigorously from behind. 
“Good girl. I knew you’d get us that deal…you’re too damn pretty for anyone to say no to, sweetheart.” He purrs into your ear, words slightly slurred. 
Your hands grip the edge of the counter tightly, letting out a breathy laugh in between hushed moans. 
“How is it that you fuck better after a few drinks in you?” You tease, earning you a deep chuckle. 
“Because you’re my woman and I love you. And I wanna keep doing this with you, living this life with you. No matter how messed up it is.” He pants against your ear. 
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© all rights reserved to fushic0re — do not translate, repost, or plagiarize.
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nariism · 7 months
Text
Wriothesley has fallen asleep on the job.
It's not a surprise, not in the least. He's spent more time at the Fortress of Meropide than he has at home lately, overworking himself with an unfathomable amount of new inmates to house.
He's always taken his work quite seriously, both as a show of gratitude to the people of Fontaine and to protect his pride in having the most inescapable prison in the entire nation. And more than that, he's always refused your help much to your chagrin.
You find him asleep at his desk, piles of paperwork buried under his head as a makeshift pillow. He snores softly, meaning that he must have just knocked out recently.
A quiet sigh escapes you as you tread over to his sleeping form, draping the coat dangling on the back of his chair over his body as a temporary blanket. Fontaine is chilly, and despite his unusual warmth, risking Wriothesley getting sick is the last thing you want in the world.
It strikes you then. He's asleep. Asleep, in front of you, completely vulnerable and unknowingly allowing you to observe every part of him without judgement: the slow rise and fall of his shoulders as he breathes, human and alive; the hair that's fallen out of place and over the eyes which you love so much; the light murmurs of his recited dreams leaving his lips yet unintelligible.
You're surprised that it's never dawned on you before. You've rarely had the chance to see him sleep.
Wriothesley always roused before the crack of dawn, waking you after him with his lips pressed to your forehead. "Good morning, pretty," he would greet you before taking off for the day. And he was so warm to hold at night that you would often fall asleep before him, comforted by the slow beating of his heart against your ear.
It's a strange sight to see him looking so unguarded, all evidence of the torment of his busy day washed out of his expression as he snores.
You shouldn't. You know you shouldn't. But you can't help it. The Kamera is pulled from your bag before you can stop yourself, fingers nimbly getting the lens ready without stirring him. You're just about to take a picture worth a thousand words when—
"Mornin', pretty."
You almost drop the Kamera out of surprise, clutching it to your chest while you glare at the smugness written all over his face. There's a gruffness and slur to his voice that makes you weak in the knees, so unlike how you're used to hearing him in the mornings when he's already had his tea.
His steely eyes peer up at you curiously as you try and stammer out a weak excuse, to little avail. You should have known that the Lord of the Fortress of Meropide would have sharp enough senses to wake with even the smallest disturbance. He sits up straight, the coat hanging on his shoulders falling off onto the seat.
(It makes him melt that you've attempted to keep him warm, even though it seems like you've come all the way out to the Fortress at such an hour just to check up on him.)
He looks around. "No one escorted you?"
You bashfully avert your eyes, fumbling around with your Kamera and trying pathetically to hide it behind your back as if you weren't caught red-handed already.
"The guards let me in."
"But you came alone?"
His frown deepens when you nod. Wriothesley gathers up his remaining papers into one pile and shoves them aside before striding over to you. "Have a guard escort you home. It's dangerous to go back alone," is his demand.
"You're not coming home tonight?" You ask quietly, lips pulling back into a small pout of disappointment. His heart aches at the thought that he may have been neglecting you in the last few days, even more than he had been neglecting himself.
"I have to finish up some things," he tells you with the slightest bit of guilt bleeding into his words. He runs a hand through his hair before sighing. "Why don't you stay here tonight?"
It's a lame offer, asking the love of his life to sleep in such a dinky, run-down place. But the light that explodes in your eyes and smile tell him that you don't care. You never would, so long as you were by his side.
"Okay," you whisper, and he kisses you in apology.
That night, at an hour so late that not even the prisoners make a peep, he realizes that your Kamera is still set down on the coffee table beside your resting form. He has drowned you in his coat and a spare blanket, laid you out across his office couch, and though it's not luxurious you seem to be resting well.
Just a few more days. A few more days of processing all of the new papers sent by Neuvillette and he would be free to come home to your loving arms and fall asleep in your shared bed. For now, this would have to suffice.
The man gathers you up into his arms and slides beneath you, holding you atop his chest like he always does. He's careful not to wake you as he settles in to call it a night.
There's a faint shutter as he holds the device up in the air and takes a picture of the both of you, with your body curled up against his and his arm around your waist.
He presses a soft kiss to the crown of your head. "Goodnight, pretty."
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("When did you take this?!"
"You don't like it?" He asks you nonchalantly, eyes busy with reading the morning Steambird.
"I didn't say that," you grumble, flustered at how he's holding you in the image. Did he always hold you so close? So protectively?
Wriothesley smiles at you with his lips on the rim of his mug. "You snore, by the way."
"Shut up!")
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© ALABOADOA 2023 — please do not translate or post my works to other platforms.
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cleo-fox · 2 months
Text
Daylight
Summary: Despite your best efforts, Sunday morning doesn’t go as planned…and you couldn’t be happier about it.
Pairings: Loki x Female Reader
Warnings: Smut, 18+, Minors DNI, shower sex, fingering, vaginal sex, soft sex, sex that causes you to be several hours late for work, Loki being a (respectful) horn dog.
Series: Overtime (I don't have a masterlist for this yet, but the first fic is here). A/N: This started out as a scene in Overtime that kind of took on a life of its own. You don't necessarily need to read Overtime in order to enjoy or understand this fic, but you'll have more context if you do. Anyway, it was fun revisiting these two idiots--I've got a few more ideas for them up my sleeve, so there will be more in this series at some point.
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The sunlight wakes you the next morning.
It’s the same sunlight as always, but it looks different coming through Loki’s window and streaming across his bed. It looks better, you think, splashed across his sheets.
Or maybe it’s the addition of your hand clasped with his resting on those same sheets. Or perhaps it’s the sight of your clothes and his, discarded on the bedroom floor in a pool of sunlight, combined with the fact that you’re still wrapped in his arms. Maybe all of that is why it seems better.
That seems more likely.
You lie still for a moment, simply enjoying the feeling of his arms and the heat of his skin against your bare back. You are reasonably certain he’s asleep from the steady rhythm of his breath on your neck, but you’re not about to disturb the sleepy calm of the morning to confirm that. 
The clock on his bedside table says it’s just after six. Before last night, you would have said that this was a reasonable time to get up—early enough to ensure that you’re in the office by eight, which would hopefully give you enough time to meet this evening’s deadline, but not so early that it makes you question your life and your choices.
But that was before. Now…well. You suddenly find that your priorities look very different from the comfort of Loki’s bed.
You decide that you didn’t really see the clock. Neither one of you thought to set an alarm last night. Sleeping in was inevitable. That’s not your fault. No harm, no foul.
You close your eyes and allow yourself to fall into a light doze, warmed by the sunlight and Loki’s embrace.
Sometime later, you’re woken by the soft brush of a kiss against your neck.
“Did you sleep well?” he murmurs against your neck.
“Yes, though I did have a bit of a late night,” you say. “Someone kept me up.”
“Really? That was rude of him.”
“Very.”
He’s noticeably—achingly—hard. His lips brush against your neck again. “Perhaps he might make it up to you?”
Your intention is to open your eyes, roll over, and allow yourself to be ravished. But in a development you can only describe as tragic, you happen to catch sight of the clock on his nightstand.
7:38 am.
“Shit,” you say. “It’s almost eight.”
Loki is predictably unconcerned about this. “We don’t have any official hours to keep,” he says, his hand skimming along your ribs and down the curve of your waist. “We have all day.”
“Yeah, but we’ve got a ton more to do,” you say, trying to ignore how good he is at kissing your neck or how his hand is drifting down your hip toward the aching pulse between your legs. “We really need every minute.”
“That is true,” he says solemnly. “Perhaps we ought shower together to save time.”
You can’t help but smile. “I kind of feel like you have another agenda.”
“I’d never,” he says.
“The raging hard on pressing against my ass would suggest otherwise.”
You can almost hear him smirk as he gives his hips a teasing little thrust against you. “I contain multitudes.”
You wiggle out of his embrace and slip out of bed. You intend to look back and give him a coquettish look and say something sharp and teasing, but instead, the sight of him takes your breath away. He leans back on his elbows, looking everything like the sort of lounging god you would see depicted in marble at the Parthenon, all chiseled, sharp muscles and clean lines. His cock stands fully erect and deliciously thick, flushed with wanting.
“I can’t help but notice that you didn’t reject the offer,” he says, seemingly fully aware of the path of your gaze. His hand drops to his cock and he strokes himself casually, which very nearly sends your sprinting back to bed.
“You’re right,” you say, trying to keep your cool as you throw him your most beguiling look. “So you should probably hurry up.”
You turn and start walking toward the master bathroom. You don’t need to look over your shoulder to know he’s following you, his gaze hungrily devouring every inch of skin, eyes dark with purpose.
You walk into the master bathroom and are immediately confronted by several flagrant violations of the residential handbook. The TVA is many things, but it is not the sort of place that deviates from set floor plans, nor is it the sort of place that deviates from those plans to install a rainfall shower and soaking tub—in marble, no less.
You think of the stark, vaguely institutional aesthetic in your own master bath and you can’t decide if you’re annoyed at his rule breaking or jealous that he could get away with it.
“I’m not even going to ask if you got approval for this setup because I know you didn’t,” you say as you reach in to the shower to turn on the tap.
“Do you think of anything other than that cursed personnel manual?” he asks as he comes up behind you, his arms snaking around your waist and his lips again finding your neck as he draws you to him.
“First of all, it’s not the personnel manual, it’s the residential handbook, which you specifically agreed to abide by when you signed off on your lease.”
He turns you around so you face him and draws you close, a wicked gleam in his eye, “Oh, I’m going to make you forget all about those ridiculous rules.”
“That’s a pretty tall order—oh.”
His hand is slipping between your legs, stroking your already slick folds.
“I think I’m quite capable of inspiring other passions,” he says, rolling his fingers in a broad circle over the hood of your clit
You loop your arms around his shoulders. You can already feel your knees starting to tremble, but you know he won’t let you fall.
“Bold claim,” you say, “I’m going to need more evidence.”
“Oh, you’re going to get a lot of evidence,” he says softly. He curls a finger inside of you, pressing his thumb against the hood of your clit. “You will have no doubts by the time I’m done presenting my argument. You will be weak-kneed with evidence.”
You shudder as he rocks his hand slowly. He’s touching you enough to stoke the flames of desire, making your hips rock helplessly toward his hand as you try to create that extra friction and pressure that you know will send you flying over the edge. But Loki is meticulous—perhaps even ruthless—about not giving in. 
“Not yet,” he murmurs softly when your latest attempt is thwarted. “Slowly.”
Your pleas become louder and more frequent, but his answer remains the same: slowly. You whimper and beg, but he is resolute.
Steam has fogged up the mirrors and is curling around you when your orgasm finally begins to crest. You suddenly find yourself grateful for his pacing as the intensity builds to a level that makes your knees shake.
“That’s it,” he breathes as you tremble in his arms. “You can come for me now, lovely.”
Like magic, the coil inside you snaps at his command and you cry out as your cunt shudders around his slowly thrusting fingers. Your arms looped around his shoulders are the only thing keeping you standing.
“Beautiful,” he murmurs, pressing a soft kiss against your temple as you sag against him. “Beautiful.”
He gives you a moment to get your bearings before leading you into the shower. He sits down on the marble bench, spreading his thighs wide and pulling you into his lap so you straddle his hips. The spray of the water hits your back as he kisses you again, slow and hungry.
You love everything about this. The heat of the water on your back. The closeness. The way his thighs are spread wide. How his cock presses against your bare cunt. The noise he makes low in his throat when you start rubbing yourself against him.
“Need you,” he mumbles against your neck. His hands squeeze your hips and you reach between the two of you to line his cock up at your entrance.
It occurs to you that you could take the opportunity to tease him, to make him beg for you, but pretending that you have any control over your aching need for him is several degrees beyond impossible. So instead, you slowly ease yourself down onto his cock while he groans against your neck, dragging his lips down to the curve of your shoulder.
The feeling of him inside you is still so new that it feels just a little unreal. After all that wanting and yearning and thinking that he was too handsome, too divine, too out of reach to have, he’s suddenly yours and it’s absolutely dizzying. 
You pause for a moment, eyes closed, savoring the feeling of unyielding fullness, of connection. Of him.
“All right?” he asks softly.
You open your eyes and his look of sweet concern makes your heart swell. “Yeah,” you say, a lazy, satisfied smile tugging at your lips. “I just—I needed a moment. You feel—” You pause for a moment, searching for the right words, sifting through the effusive and flowery and the things that are true but too early to say. “You just feel really good,” you say.
It sounds wildly inadequate, but he seems to understand, to hear all of the unsaid parts that you’re keeping close to your heart. He could turn away, say it’s too much too soon, that you haven’t even said what you are yet, much less committed to anything serious, but he doesn’t. Instead, he leans forward, drawing you into a slow kiss, his hands framing your face, tracing the curve of your cheek and jaw with the kind of reverence that makes you want to say everything you feel.
“You’re perfect.” He says it in between breaths, with such a disarming sincerity that you can’t bring yourself to try and deflect, to name a flaw or even make a joke.
Later, he will tell you that he was struggling with a similar battle, trying to reconcile how new this was with the depth of feeling that was already blossoming in his chest. He will tell you later that he couldn’t believe you were his, just as you couldn’t believe he was yours, that there was something about you that felt right in a way that made him feel like he knew even then.
But right now, he simply kisses you with a fervor that makes your toes curl and your hips start to move.
It’s only the second time that you’ve done this, but there’s a strange blend of both the new and the familiar. The shape and feel of his body pressed against yours is new, but the way that he moves, the way that he touches you is as though he’s loved you for centuries.
The rhythm you fall into is slow, despite the excuse that this shower was to save time. His hand slides down your stomach, his fingers finding your clit to add another layer of bliss to the feeling of his cock inside you. Despite your slow pace, your ascent rushes in fast and brilliant as a comet blazing through the night sky. Your back arches, almost as though you’re presenting yourself as an offering to him as you come undone in his arms. Loki watches you with a kind of breathless wonder, brow furrowing in pleasure, his lower lip caught between his teeth at the tight clench of your cunt around his cock.
Your legs are rubbery with pleasure, but you keep going because you need his release as much as your own. You need to feel him empty himself inside of you, to hear the low groan he makes as he unravels, to see the way his eyes flutter shut. You want crescent moon marks on your hips from where his hands gripped you too tightly in that final ascent, physical proof that you can make not just a god forget himself, but Loki specifically. Loki with all his masks and tricks and artful poise; Loki laid bare below you, free from all artifice and glibness, raw and real and just as he is. All the parts of him that make you think that down this path lies something wonderful (not that you’re ready to call it love. Yet).
But Loki is nothing if not predictably unpredictable and he seems determined to make you work before granting you that little glimpse at the heaven that is the god of mischief coming undone beneath you.
“Let me feel you come again,” he murmurs as soon as you catch your breath.
“Is once not enough?” you say, trying and failing to sound cool and calm, like you’re not completely wrecked for him.
“Hardly.” His eyes flash in a way that makes you shiver as he urges your hips into a faster rhythm. “I am not so easily satisfied when my need has been so great.”
You can feel the coil in your hips beginning to tighten again.
“I’ve burned for you for years, my love,” he says, his voice going a little shaky. “Would you deny water to a man dying of thirst?”
You shake your head, your words lost to the oncoming wave of your undoing.
“Then do not deny me your pleasure, I am desperate for you.” He’s panting, barely holding on to his composure. “Now come for me again, let me feel you.”
You are so far gone that it only takes a few more strokes to make you come undone and the first shudder of your climax takes Loki with you.
You savor his pleasure more than your own release, memorizing the sound he makes, the way his lips form a silent plea in the shape of your name until he slides a hand up your neck and pulls you down to kiss him.
His kiss is fierce and hungry at first, but it ebbs to something slower and sweeter as he empties himself into you. He sighs as you tangle your fingers in the wet tendrils of his hair.
It’s a long moment later when you finally break the kiss, resting your forehead against his.
“I don’t think we saved any time,” you say.
He doesn’t even open his eyes. “I cannot overemphasize how much I do not care about being late in these circumstances.”
You grin. “Not even a little?”
He kisses you sweetly on the mouth before opening his eyes, his lips curling into a slow and satisfied smile. “I would be late every day for the rest of my life for just a few seconds of that.”
His words spark something warm in your chest and you try to hide it with a wry look. “I’m not sure that you’re getting the better end of the deal.”
He kisses you softly. “You don’t know how good you feel.”
“You’re one to talk,” you murmur against his lips and he smiles as he deepens the kiss.
The warmth of his body pressed against yours and the feeling of him smiling as he kisses you is a kind of luxury you’ve never imagined. It takes you a while to untangle yourselves, but you can’t find it in yourself to move any faster.
The actual showering part of your shower is slow and unhurried and you find that Loki’s hands are equally gifted at these mundane tasks. His fingers have a knack for finding every stubborn knot in your neck and shoulders, which he explores leisurely under the pretext of washing your back. The press of his fingers unwinds the tension in your shoulders, loosening up muscles that have been too tense for too long.
“You are way too good at this,” you say.
“Just one of my many talents,” he says, dropping a kiss on your shoulder. “Though perhaps I ought to stop—I wouldn’t want to make you late.”
“I’m so relaxed I’m going to ignore that little bit of sass.”
He chuckles against your shoulder. “You’ll forgive me.”
“We’ll see.”
The sweet, almost chaste kisses he’s been pressing against your neck and shoulders are gradually growing slower, more insistent. When you feel the tip of his tongue draw a quick, teasing line on your neck, you know that you might be in trouble.
His hands slide to your waist, drawing you close enough that you can feel that he’s hard again. 
“I’m sensing some ulterior motives,” you say.
“A bold accusation,” he mumbles against your neck, pressing himself more firmly against you.
“We can’t have sex again,” you laugh.
“Mmm, we could,” he says in between kisses. “There’s nothing stopping us from having sex again.”
“We are already running late—”
“I thought I was very clear about my feelings on timeliness in these circumstances.” He nips at your earlobe and you shiver. “And would you really deprive me of the utter bliss of coming undone inside you?”
“It’s more like rescheduling than depriving you of anything.”
“I’ve waited so long, darling.”
“We just had sex like…less than an hour ago,” you say through a laugh.
“Ah, but the days before that were so terribly long,” he says.
You turn to face him, thinking this will make things easier for you. This turns out to be a grave miscalculation because now you have to contend with the fire in his eyes and the twin flame that it summons low in your hips.
Fuck. 
You are definitely going to have sex again.
His eyes glitter like he knows and he slowly walks you backwards until you’re pressed between him and the shower wall.
“You are absolutely incorrigible,” you say as he peppers your neck with slow, decadent kisses. “I can’t believe you talked me into this.”
“Funnily enough, I don’t think you’ll be complaining about my mouth in about thirty seconds.”
And with a wicked and hungry grin, he slowly sinks to his knees.
It’s 10:48am when you finally walk into the office.
Even though you are now several hours later than you intended and the stack of files is no less imposing, you feel nothing but a pleasant glow of happiness as you take your seat. Loki sits down in the chair next to you and this time, he sneaks his foot underneath your desk and hooks his ankle under yours.
He catches your eye and smiles. “I can be a little more obvious now.”
You put on your most exaggerated expression of mock seriousness. “Only a little. This is a workplace, after all.”
He adopts a similar expression and nods. “Of course. I imagine there will be paperwork as well.”
“There actually is a form we’ll need to file with HR,” you say.
Loki frowns. “Wait, you’re not being serious about that, are you?”
“Yep. We’ll need to file it by next Friday.”
He sighs and throws his hands up in the air. “Is there anything that this place hasn’t managed to weigh down with the burden of unnecessary bureaucracy?”
“I see we’re in a good mood this morning.” Mobius has arrived, cup of coffee in hand. He nods at Loki and looks at you. “How long has he been raging against the machine?”
“Not terribly long,” you say as Loki rolls his eyes.
“It’s not raging against anything,” he says. “I just fail to see the point of some of this organization’s operational practices.”
Mobius raises an eyebrow at you. “You told him he has to fill out a form, huh?”
“Got it in one,” you say as Loki scowls.
Mobius chuckles and takes a sip of coffee. “You should hear him during performance evaluation season. I get entire monologues. It’s like Hamlet meets HR.”
Loki’s scowl deepens and you have to bite the inside of your cheek in order not to laugh.
“It looks like you made good progress, though,” says Mobius, looking at your completed stacks of files. “I took a look at what you pulled earlier this morning and there’s some good stuff.”
“Oh, good,” you say, hoping he doesn’t think much of the fact that neither one of you was in the office earlier this morning. “What time do you think you’ll need the rest done?”
“Right, about that,” says Mobius. You steel yourself for bad news. “I took a look at what you pulled so far and I think I’ve got what I need.”
You blink at him. “Wait, really?”
“Yeah, you’re off the hook,” he says. “Go enjoy the rest of your weekend.”
You look at Loki, who looks just as pleasantly surprised as you feel.
“In fact, you can take the rest of the week off,” says Mobius. “Triple overtime, right? You earned the time.” 
“This feels like a trick,” says Loki. “What’s the catch?”
“No catch,” says Mobius. “You did good work.” He takes a sip of his coffee. “However—”
“And there’s the catch,” says Loki.
“There’s no catch,” says Mobius. He gestures at you with his coffee cup. “I’m just going to need you both to turn in the relevant paperwork to HR by next Friday.”
Loki sighs, though you can tell he’s fighting a smile. “There’s absolutely no privacy here.”
Mobius raises his eyebrows. “You’re playing footsie under the desk. It’s not exactly rocket science.”
You look at Loki and shrug. “He’s got a point.”
“You’re taking his side?”
You roll your eyes and stand up. “Well, you can sulk about it if you’d like, but I’m going to go enjoy the rest of my weekend.” You share a sly, secret smile with Mobius. “I’ll see you next week, Mobius.”
It takes Loki approximately twenty seconds to catch up with you.
“And you say I’m incorrigible,” he says as he falls into step beside you.
You smile at him. “I think you’ll get over it.”
“I’ll consider it.” He catches your band, fingers twining with yours. “What are your plans for the rest of the week?”
“Hadn’t decided,” you say, biting back a smile. “Did you have any suggestions?”
“Well, I’d like to start by going back to bed.”
“To sleep?” you tease. 
“Eventually.” He licks his lips. “And since our respective schedules have been cleared for the week, we’ll be able to take our time.”
The hunger in his eyes is still so new and intoxicating that you can’t help the shiver that works its way up your spine.
You give him a slow smile. “Lead the way.”
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harvsboy · 17 days
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small moments with Harvey
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masterlist || hub
a/n; I still have a lot to wrap up on the big headcanon post so until that's done, have this as your dose of Harvey content! i have more coming but for the moment this is what I've got that's done so!
cw; alcohol mentions, swearing, one kiss mention, x gn!reader
tags; @riverwritez @titishq @asterjaxx @luv4luci @zuuriell @ihearttheraindropss (send an ask or dm to be added!!)
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- watching him clean his glasses, or push them up the bridge of his nose while working. seeing them fogged up during winter days, the way his eyebrows punch together at the sight of the fogged glass. taking them off and wiping them with his shirt, sighing before putting them back on, and reaching his hand back out for you to take.
- laying in bed, late mornings or early nights. head on his chest and tucked under his chin, listening to the thump thump of his heart pumping blood through his veins. the sound of his soft breathing, the feel of it as it brushes against your skin, how warm & jarring it is. his one hand on your side or hand; stroking gently with his palm or fingers. his other hand focused in your hair or on your hairline. pushing back stray strands, or brushing his fingertips against your skin; in circles or strokes.
- planting on the first day of the season, a random day he took off to spend with you, now knee deep in dirt and admiring you with so much love he thought his heart might explode. helping you with placing the seeds and covering them, ensuring they're the right depth in the ground. (you know all of this, but having him guide you is relaxing and makes it an even more enjoyable experience.)
- taking his beetle into the city, getting passenger princess/prince/royalty privileges. his hand on your thigh, moving to brush hair out of your face at stop lights, his eyes always instinctually looking for you when the car is stopped. going to museums and restaurants and shops, holding his hand or fingers or looping your finger in his belt loops; wanting to hold onto him at all times.
- waking before you only to make you breakfast. he has to rush into work minutes after you get settled at the table, but seeing your face, kissing your lips, with the morning sun casted through the windows is all he needs to function. why have his coffee when he has you?
- we all know he's on the older side, he has an older man routine. comes home on long days, sits in his chair with his lamp and reads with a glass of wine (or whiskey if the day was bad enough). pats his thigh and sits back, beckoning for you to sit in his lap. he'll have you curl into his chest, his hands splayed across your hips or sides or stomach, keeping you pinned against his body. he reads to you, in a gentle voice. kisses pressed against your forehead with care, hoping you fall asleep so he can tuck you in while he does paper work in his office just off the bedroom.
- him getting dressed in the mornings, in the same order each day. pressed pants, shoes, shirt, tie, jacket, + a scarf if needed. (his watch only comes off before showers, he puts it on immediately after getting out + his white coat stays at the clinic.)
- staying by his side in the maze on spirit's eve. you pretended to be brave, only to get scared shitless and end up with him trying to protect you. he was just as scared, but some of that fear left when he realized he could make you feel safe, that he could protect you. that he isn't all that weak.
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imyourbratzdoll · 9 months
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Can I please request best friends, dad!Lloyd, finding you masturbating in his bed!! Maybe include some toys+squirting?? Thnnnx!! Love your blog💘💘
hey honey, thank you so much!
summary - you've been pining over your best friend's dad and decide to take your chance, knowing he's out and your best friend is asleep, you be a little bit naughty and touch yourself on his bed, not knowing he's coming home early.
warning - smut, masturbating, voyeurism, squirting.
18+ only please, the gif I use isn't mine, divider by @newlips
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You were sneaky, waiting until your best friend fell asleep so you could sneak out of her room. You’ve hung around enough to know that her father works late, only coming home early in the morning, sometimes covered in blood. You had a slight crush on the man. I mean, could you really be blamed? Wearing your tiny white nightie as you head toward Mr Hansen’s room, you sneak inside, not bothering to close the door as your friend sleeps deeply. 
Your trusty toy tucked into your hand, with your free hand, you drag it along his sheets, sighing as they are so soft. You get wet just thinking about Lloyd lying naked between the sheets, stroking his thick member. You whimper, crawling onto the bed and lying down. You moan as your body relaxes. Your eyes slip closed, and your fingers skim your nipples. They slowly slide down your body, landing between your legs and circling your puffy clit. 
You blindly turn your toy on, placing it directly onto your clit, causing soft mewls to escape your lips. Your mind begins to drift off thinking of Lloyd, imagining him walking in on you, degrading you, until he finally flips you around and thrusts into you. You are so caught up in pleasure that you don’t hear Lloyd arriving home earlier than usual or entering the house and making his way to his room. You don’t even notice him leaning against the doorway, and you whine as you arch your back, grinding down onto the toy. “Oh, Mr Hansen.”
Lloyd crosses his arms as he watches you with a smirk and clears his throat. His smirk grows when your eyes fly open, and you freeze, mouth opening and closing as you try and find an excuse for why you are in his bed, touching yourself. “Well, sweetheart. If I had known this is what I would’ve been coming home to, I would’ve come home much faster.” His eyes slowly move down your body, licking his lips when they land on the soaked toy between your legs. Lloyd waves his hand. “Don’t stop on my account, please. Continue.”
“M–mr Hans–” He cuts you off with a raised brow. You feel your body heat up and your cunt throb as he stares you down. You gasp as you press the toy harder against your clit, and your legs fall open, giving Lloyd a better view. 
“Mm, that’s right, pretty girl. Get off in my bed. I bet you wouldn’t even be able to stop even if my daughter woke.” He smirks, making his way over and sitting close to you on the bed, causing your mind to go fuzzy from his scent alone. You throb when he touches your thigh, stroking it as his gaze sticks to the toy between your legs. “You’re such a naughty girl, pining over your best friend’s dad… Hmm.” You look at him with wide eyes, mouth falling open and eyes crossing. “You thought I didn’t notice? It’s quite flattering, pumpkin. Why do you think I walked around half-naked? Or brushed up against you.” Lloyd smirks, stroking your cheek before gripping your chin and resting his thumb on your plump bottom lip. “Are you going to cum for me? Make a mess on my sheets?” 
You whine, nodding. Lloyd groans when your lips wrap around his thumb, and you begin to suck, staring up at him with wide innocent eyes. Your walls pulsate, and your clit throbs, toes curling as your end approaches. “Mr Hansen!” Your back arches, and your juices squirt out of you, tiring your body and causing you to sag into the bed. Your eyes flutter, the toy falling limp between your legs. “I–I’m sorry…” You realise what you have done and try to get up, but Lloyd stops you.
“Don’t be sorry, pumpkin. That’s the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.” Lloyd grabs the toy, feeling his cock stir with how wet it is and holds it up, watching with a smirk as your juices create a string. “Naughty, naughty girl. Look at the mess you’ve made.” You watch with wide eyes as he licks up your arousal before throwing the toy aside and climbing on top of you. “Just because you’ve had your fun, sweetness, doesn’t mean you can leave. You don’t want to leave without letting me pump you full, right?” 
You shake your head, feeling your cunt throb in anticipation. Your fantasy was finally coming true.
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thank you for reading!
feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated.
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oxymorayuri · 2 months
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❞𝑊𝘩𝑎𝑡 𝑡𝘩𝑒 𝑏𝑜𝑦𝑠 𝑙𝑜𝑣𝑒 𝑎𝑏𝑜𝑢𝑡 𝑡𝘩𝑒𝑖𝑟 𝑔𝑖𝑟𝑙.❝
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𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐈𝐒𝐓: Law/Ace/Doffy: pol | Kid: ダイコン
Headcanons » Law ✧ Ace ✧ Kid ✧ Doflamingo Wordcount » 1873 Info » Fem reader, mature/kinky things but also fluffy and cute
ᴍɪɴᴏʀꜱ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ɪɴᴛᴇʀᴀᴄᴛ
𝑇𝑟𝑎𝑓𝑎𝑙𝑔𝑎𝑟 𝐷. 𝑊𝑎𝑡𝑒𝑟 𝐿𝑎𝑤
» When you read something to him: Usually you're with Law in his study, even when the two of you are doing separate things. He's mostly working on some plans or studying medical books while you're quietly reading a book on the sofa, simply enjoying each other's presence. Some days, however, you decide to read in the library. There is a big and cozy reading corner with lots of cushions and blankets, as it is always cold in the Polar Tang. The reason why you love reading there is because of the large bull's eye that reveals the secrets of the sea. Sometimes you sink into your thoughts and dream of the future as you gaze out into the blue, not even realizing how Law quietly sneaks under your blanket. Only when he takes you in his arms and presses you against him, you come back to yourself and drop your book. You talk briefly about the day so far, what you've done and then he lays his head on your lap. You brush his hair out of his face, he looks a little tired and has come to you to relax. You are his safe place, just as he is yours. You know immediately what to do and turn a few pages in another book.... "I assume we're having our little reading session again today, darling?" It's become like an unwritten rule for you, that when he lies down on your lap, you read to him and then take a nap together. Law looks at you with one eye open and grins, as you turn to the page where you left off last time. He likes the way you change your voice depending on what is happening in the story and after a while he is so relaxed that he falls asleep. When you hear his light snoring, you smile at him lovingly and put the bookmark on the current page before putting the book aside. You snuggle up to him and enjoy the peacefulness.
» Your fragrance: The perfume you wear and your own scent have a better effect on him than lavender and directly soothes his senses. You smell like home to him. When you are together with the others and you lean on his shoulder, he always tries to discreetly place a kiss on your head. Your hair always smells like fresh lemon, but rather light and refreshing. You don't like classy and expensive fragrances and prefer things to be natural and simple. Your scent is like aromatherapy for Law and that's a secret you'll never discover.
» Your hips: Law is pretty good at keeping his face under control, but when you're wearing a crop top and showing your hips, you can see the blush on his cheeks. He really has a fetish for your curves and your belly. He places a thousand kisses on your tender skin as he goes down further towards your private parts. His lips fly so softly over your skin that you can barely feel them. When he's on top of you he loves to grab you by the hips to pull you towards him. Skillful hands caress your sides, giving you goosebumps and making you arch your back because of all those tender touches. The squeezing sensation builds up in your lower middle and you literally beg him to release you. Law is someone who likes to try out lots of positions, preferably ones where he can grab you by the hips to guide you. While he is still on top of you, he pulls you towards him and turns so that he is now underneath you and you are sitting on his dick. You are visibly surprised by the sudden change of position and need a moment before you start riding him. However, Law doesn't give you a second, moves along your thigh to your hips and moves you up and down. The forthcoming penetration makes you see stars and after you both reach your peak, you let yourself fall exhausted onto his chest. He kisses your forehead tenderly and caresses your hips as you both calm your breathing.
𝑃𝑜𝑟𝑡𝑔𝑎𝑠 𝐷. 𝐴𝑐𝑒
» The wrinkles around your eyes when you laugh: Your laugh alone makes him turn around as soon as he hears it, but the little wrinkles on your face are another level. He also shows no shame and stares into your face lovingly. Of course, you don't miss his stares and his answer to why he's staring at you so intensely was simple: "Your wrinkles are so adorable when you laugh.". He then had to convince you that he finds them charming, as you don't exactly find your wrinkles cute. In your eyes, they're more of a sign that you're ageing. His reaction afterwards was almost funny, because now it was him who was offended. In his eyes, the wrinkles only mean what a cheerful person you are.
» Your skin: Your skin is so soft and gives off a warmth that he doesn't even have, even though he's pure heat himself. lol. If the guy doesn't feel your skin on his, he feels like he's hypothermic. Nevertheless, he would never get on your nerves, he rather keeps it to himself how much he longs for your skin. That means he'll take every chance he gets to touch you. You're cooking? He will of course help you by hugging you from behind, putting his hand over yours and you two stir together :D He loves it when you sunbathe. Not only is it a nice sight for him to ogle you while you sizzle in the sun, it's also the perfect opportunity to touch you intimately in public. (Ace is definitely the type to have sex in public. Nicely on the beach while the sun goes down *-*) He definitely has a lot sunscreen in stock, even if he doesn't need it for himself, but it gives him one more reason to feel your skin without being intrusive. He applies the cream very thoroughly and definitely every 2 hours. At first you thought he was very sweet and attentive because you couldn't reach all the spots, then you realized that he just wanted a opportunity to grope you… But you won't say anything against it because you enjoy how thoroughly he massages the suncream into your skin.
𝐸𝑢𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑠𝑠 𝐾𝑖𝑑
» How you dance: No matter how full the pub is, his eyes are always on you and follow your rhythmical movements. His breathing slows down while your hips move seductively. You are a passionate woman but you dance just for yourself and simply enjoy the music as it moves through your body. Kid sometimes doesn't even notice when one of his crew members is talking to him… mostly it takes him a moment or two to react. He also finds it very satisfying to watch you reject other men. He feels proud. However, if someone touches you, he doesn't hesitate and intervenes aggressively. Just look and don't touch is the motto. You also like the way he gets angry and intervenes, so you happily snuggle up to him while you make a face at the other guy. Kid doesn't seem like it, but it takes a while before he forgives you for being such a hottie that other men keep coming crawling up to you. You enjoy it though, because it's almost cute how a tough guy like him pouts. However, he will forgive you... at the latest when you dance for him in your shared bedroom, in private ;)
» Your quick wit: Well, you do not only bark, you also bite. The Crew knows that and those who don't know you will find out soon enough! Kid never has to get involved when you're arguing with others. You're eloquent and if necessary you'll hit them! But don't worry, he's always keeping an eye on you and if you show him that you need his help, he won't hesitate and will happily take over the beating.
» Your relationship with his crew: Even if you are the captain's lover, it doesn't mean that you have automatically earned the respect of his crew... But it didn't take long for everyone to consider you one of them. For Heat, for example, you're like a little sister and you're probably the only one he's okay with when she cries (He hates crybabys, lol). The first person you really became friends with was Killer, and not just because Kid told him to look after you when he couldn't himself. It's actually because you both like spaghetti, while the others are already sick of it and you're an insane cook. The first time you cooked spaghetti, he liked it so much that he ate all the leftovers at night. This is especially important for Kid, because if his people don't love you, why should he?
𝐷𝑜𝑛𝑞𝑢𝑖𝑥𝑜𝑡𝑒 𝐷𝑜𝑓𝑙𝑎𝑚𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑜
» Your appearance: Doflamingo is an obsessive narcissist. He may love you in his own twisted way but he always says he owns you. He proudly displays you by his side and that's why your looks are important. In Doffy's eyes, you wouldn't be his queen if you weren't the most beautiful woman in the world. People who disagree with him will lose their lives faster than they would like… Because how dare they think that a man like him doesn't have the most beautiful wife. Not because you are incredibly beautiful (which is definitely true) but because Donquixote Doflamingo will only have the most beautiful woman by his side. (Know the difference..)
» How you moan his name: Doffy loves to get the softest sounds out of you while he fucks you into madness. "Say my name, my angel." You look up at him hesitantly. You can't think straight as he hammers into you, his movements are vigorous but so skillful that it doesn't hurt. It just feels so good when his tip triggers your G spot. Since Doflamingo isn't even waiting for you, he casually wraps a hand around your slender neck, forcing you to keep your gaze upright. You feel so intimidated when you look into his eyes… When you are intimate with each other, you have the honor of looking into his eyes. His gaze burns itself into your brain and if you're honest, you feel powerless. When you finally let yourself be overtaken by all your feelings, you can't help but release them through your voice. You are incredibly turned on by the way his elegant hand slowly takes your breath away and you arch your back. "Oh Doffy…" With these two words, you let the last bit of air out of your lungs and let your head fall back. "Fufufufu… My beautiful angel, don't stop singing for me." You completely let go of your embarrassment and give yourself completely to him. Your sweet sounds have an electrifying effect on him, feelings are released in his body that he can't identify, he only knows that he won't leave you to anyone. Your voice belongs to him alone and he decides to let the whole castle hear how he ruins you.
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Hope you like it, I'm off to the land of dreams, good night :3
𝑾𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆, 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒚𝒖𝒓𝒊 ♡
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forhappysake · 2 months
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Safe With You
A/N - Another random quick piece, not edited (whoops).
Summary - Spencer comes home from a tough case. Reader tries to figure out what's bothering him with help from another team member.
Warnings - spencer x fem!reader, BAU level violence, a small lover's spat, a little white lie, fluff at the end, maybe some implied smut
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Spencer was a good man. He’d had his fair share of difficulties, more so than the average person. However, he carried it well most of the time. Almost every time he came home from a case, he was relatively calm. He’d take a shower, fall asleep in bed, and forget about this case so he could focus on moving on to the next one. 
However, after he came home this evening, you could tell he was struggling with something. He paced around your shared living room, occasionally digging the heel of his hand into his eyes as if trying to wipe away some bad thought. You let it go at first, hoping he would join you on the couch. However, after ten minutes of his constantly shuffling back and forth, you decided to put an end to it. 
You rose from the couch, walking slowly over to him. Spencer had stopped at the edge of his desk, leaning over the hard oak surface to skim over some papers scattering the desktop. You gently placed your hands on his shoulders, a soft reminder of your presence. Almost immediately you could feel his shoulders drop as he released some tension into your touch. Without a word, you gently massaged the knot you felt forming at the base of his neck. 
“Don’t you think it’s time to go take a shower, honey?” you prompted gently, not wanting to upset him any more than he already was. 
Though he had leaned into your touch, you could feel him tense up a bit at the suggestion. Spencer looked down, checking the silver watch he wore on his wrist. He let out a soft sigh. He’d already been home for over an hour and had yet to settle into his typical routine. 
“Maybe so,” he mumbled. He slipped out from between you and the desk, making quick work of crossing the living room and entering the bathroom where he promptly shut the door behind him. 
You frowned at his inability to confide in you, knowing you wouldn’t be able to rest until you got to the bottom of what was going on. You looked over the files on his desk, looking for any sign of what might have upset him. He was particularly set off when cases involved children, all of the BAU were. But from this file, it didn’t seem like there was anything out of the ordinary that would make him act this way. You slunk away from the desk, feeling defeated before a thought crossed your mind: Penelope Garcia. 
You padded over to the kitchen counter to grab your phone. Scrolling through your contacts, you quickly dialed the blond computer genius and your favorite of Spencer’s many coworkers. Something about her was always so kind, so welcoming, and you knew she would be more than happy to help you figure out what was bothering Spencer. 
The phone rang once before a bubbly voice spoke from the other end of the line, “Penelope Garcia at your service,” she chided. 
“Hey, Penelope. I need help with something,” you said, not wanting to take up any more of her time than you needed to. Aside from that, you’d hate to find out what Spencer would say if he found you out here trying to get information from his coworkers. 
“Of course! Is everything okay?” she asked, concern seeping into her voice. 
“What? Oh! Yes, e-everything is fine,” you stuttered as you tried to listen for any sign that Spencer might be coming out of the bathroom. “I’ll have to make this call quick. Do you happen to know why Spencer came home so upset this evening?” 
Penelope’s end of the line was silent for a moment as she thought. “Actually, I might have an idea,” she hummed. You could hear her clacking away on a keyboard in the background, and you couldn’t help but wonder what kind of amazing multitasking skills this woman had. “This last case was pretty routine,” Penelope said, “except for the victims, in Spencer’s case.” 
You furrowed your brow. “What do you mean?” you asked. 
“They were very… similar to you, in a lot of ways. Eye color, hair color, even height. The bad guy was some jilted lover, after women who looked like the lady who’d done him wrong. Spencer, of course, thought of you nearly immediately when we saw the victim profiles. Really, we all did. He took it pretty hard.” 
Your frown turned into a grimace at the implication of Penelope’s words. “Oh but Penelope, that’s ridiculous. That case was a thousand miles away. Spencer knows I was safe here the whole time.” 
You heard Penelope tsk on the other end of the line. “That may be so, deary, but that can’t stop his genius mind from running a million miles a minute. JJ said she hadn’t seen him so worked up in a year.” 
You could hardly believe what you were hearing. You knew Spencer was protective, but you didn’t know he could get so upset over something so far out there. You shook the thoughts away from your head as you heard the shower shut off in the bathroom. “Well, I’d better go before he gets out of the bathroom. Thank you for the information, Penelope. You’re a lifesaver.”
“Don’t sweat it, mi amor. Good luck with boy genius.” With that, Penelope’s end of the line went dead and you were left with nothing but a cell phone in your hands as Spencer walked out of the bathroom. 
“Who were you talking to?” he asked, an eyebrow raised. His t-shirt clung to his damp frame as he ran a hand over the stubble on his chin. Spencer knows you have an aversion to talking on the phone. Something about texting is just so much more convenient. 
“Uh-” you tried to think of a quick lie. Anything but the truth would be perfect at this moment. “JJ. Michael couldn’t sleep. He wanted to know if you could tell him a bedtime story on FaceTime, but I told her you seemed pretty worn out and said you could do it tomorrow night instead.” That wasn’t a terrible lie. Michael had always loved Spencer’s stories, and at least once a month Spencer was bound by his godfather-duties to provide a new bedtime story. 
Spencer nodded, a strand of wet hair falling in front of his face. “I guess I’m due up for another one, aren’t I?” he asked rhetorically. He turned from you, heading down the hallway to the bedroom. You couldn’t help but wonder why, if Spencer was so worried about you, he didn’t seem to want to talk to you. 
You left your phone on the counter and followed him to the bedroom, slipping in the bedroom door and shutting it. By the time you reached the edge of the bed, Spencer had already slipped into his side and turned off his bedside lamp. You sighed. Maybe it was best not to push him. Surely he’d open up with some time. Right?
Defeated for the evening and confused by your boyfriend’s actions, you tucked yourself into your side of the bed before turning your light off. The darkness consuming the room only reminded you of the lack of his body pressed against yours as you drifted off to sleep.
***
When you awoke only two hours later, you immediately rolled over, expecting to be greeted by Spencer in the bed next to you. However, you were instead met with an empty space. The covers were messily left at the bottom of the bed as if he’d left in a hurry. You felt a small panic rising in your chest. Had he left for a case and not even told you? 
You hopped out of bed and quickly left the bedroom, nearly jogging down the hallway to your living room. You could see that Spencer’s desk lamp was on, and thankfully his silhouette was visible behind the light. He looked up when you entered, only to look back down at the papers on his desk when it was clear you were looking for him. 
“What are you doing?” you asked. 
“Couldn’t sleep,” he said shortly. If you’d been frustrated by your boyfriend’s actions earlier, his tone now was enough to spark a small anger in your chest. 
You took a deep breath, deciding on a plan of action. You decided to start simple, hoping it would get you somewhere. “Spence, what’s the matter?”
He didn’t look up to acknowledge you, instead choosing to flip through some more files on his desk. “I told you, I couldn’t sleep. Go back to bed.” That’s enough, you thought, his attitude making your jaw clench. 
“Look at me, Spencer,” you said pointedly. The sharpness of your voice surprised even you. Spencer nearly jumped, and you could see the guilt pooling in his eyes as he slowly made eye contact with you for the first time since arriving home. 
“Thank you,” you said. You approached his desk, perching yourself on the edge. “Do you care to tell me why you’ve been ignoring me since you got home?” 
Spencer sighed, closing the file in front of him and looking up at you. He scanned your face as he calculated a reply. “I had a bad case,” he said frankly. He wasn’t being dishonest, but you could tell he was holding something back. 
“Okay,” you said, noting your acceptance of this half-truth. “Why was it a bad case?” 
Spencer shrugged. “Anytime people die it’s a bad case, Y/N.” 
You let out a bitter laugh as you stood up from the edge of the desk, walking over to the sofa. “I get that, Spencer. But usually when you say its a ‘bad case,’” you made air quotes with your fingers, “something specific really bothers you. I want to know what it was.”
You looked back up at him, noticing that he’d closed his eyes and leaned back in his chair. If he wasn’t being so stubborn, you’d have happily climbed in his lap and appreciated his beauty, but now wasn’t the time. You’d nearly given up on getting your answer. You thought about turning away from him and going back to the bedroom, but it was then that he spoke. 
“They all looked like you,” he said bitterly. 
“Who?” you asked. 
Spencer cleared his throat, grimacing as if a bad taste entered his mouth. “All the victims. They looked just like you. I couldn’t stop… I couldn’t get it out of my head.” He spoke quietly, but honestly, and you felt relief flood you as he finally told you the truth. 
“Spencer,” you walked over to him once more, putting a hand on his shoulder. “I’m safe here. You know nothing is going to happen to me.”
He whirled around in his chair quickly, eyes wide. “I don’t know that! Especially when I’m halfway across the country. Why doesn’t anyone get it?” he stood up from his chair, running a hand through his messy hair as he began to pace again. 
“Help me understand,” you pleaded, sliding down into his desk chair. “I can’t help you if I don’t understand.”
“It’s just-” he took a deep breath, planting his feet flat on the floor to keep himself still as he started talking. “It’s just that everyone kept telling me ‘Nothing like this could ever happen to her!’ They don’t know that. I’ve seen terrible things happen to people ‘nothing could ever happen to.’” 
You fell silent, looking down at your hands folded in your lap. Spencer had seen a lifetime of trauma in his thirty-some years. You knew Spencer worried for you. You only wished you could take the burden away from him. 
“I’m sorry,” you murmured. 
“No-” Spencer shook his head. He walked over to where you sat in the desk chair, getting down on one knee so the two of you were at eye level. “Don’t be sorry. I’m sorry I was rude to you. You didn’t do anything, and it was unfair of me. Just know it’s only because I care.”
“I know you do. But, I do have to apologize. I lied earlier.” 
Spencer pulled back from you, a small frown painting his face. “Lied? About what?” 
“I was on the phone with Penelope. I wanted to know why you were upset. She filled me in.”
Spencer’s formerly furrowed brows relaxed as your words sank in. “Oh Garcia,” he sighed, “what would any of us do without her?”
You shook your head. “I don’t know,” you said truthfully. “What I do know is that I love you, and I need you to know that I’m as safe as I can be with you.” 
Spencer met your eyes, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. His eyes seemed glazed over, nearly teary. “I love you too. You know that?”
You nodded, reaching for him as he wrapped his arms around your waist. The two of you stayed like that for a minute, appreciating each other’s warmth, when you felt yourself suddenly being lifted off the chair and into the air. 
“Hey! Where are we going?” you asked, a small laugh leaving your lips as you wrapped your legs around his waist. 
“To bed,” he said into your shoulder as he walked you both towards the bedroom. “I’ve been neglecting my girlfriend for the past four hours. I think she deserves a good night’s rest.”
You pulled back from him, arms resting gently around his neck as he carried you into the bedroom. “I can think of a lot of things I deserve,” you joked. 
Spencer smirked mischievously. “Thank god I don’t have work tomorrow,” he said as he shut the bedroom door behind him.
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garoujo · 10 months
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✩ ˛˚ . NAGI SEISHIRO ; — nagi’s never been one who cared about running late before, so why does he now?
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ஜ ˖ ࣪࿐ྂ warnings! none, fluff, early date scenario. ♡ ˖ ࣪࿐ྂ note! these random writing ideas are haunting me istg! why is my brain suddenly trying to work again :< back w my baby <3
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nagi seishiro has never unnecessarily ran for anything in his life
call him a slacker, lazy.. he never felt the need to exceed more energy than required — always looking for ways to get him out of everything that he found bothersome.
so why is he running now? casting glances at the screen of his phone between strides because he said he’d meet you at 1pm and he’s got 3 minutes but he’s 5 minutes away. he can remember the way your smile twitched at the sides and the little, subtle glow your eyes held when you asked if he’d like to visit a new cafe with you and he shrugged his shoulders with his ‘kay. hes thankful that the messy mop of snowy hair that falls over his features helped to hide the way the tips of his ears flushed that day.
but why’s he remembering that now? what a pain.
nagi huffs as he slows at the crossing, panting softly before he’s tapping his phone screen again. he’s almost there but he’s sweating hard.. he could really go a bath, maybe he would’ve worn something a little lighter than his usual oversized clothes if he knew he was going to be running through the streets.
the crossing turns green & nagi’s off again, another few blocks—a few heavy breathes and it’s like a relief when he’s turns the corner to see you’re still there. still waiting.
“nagi?” you question suddenly as his tall figure shuffles its way towards you, his hair is more disheveled than usual and you think it’s amusing how suddenly wobbly he looks—urging you to reach to steady him as he catches his breath.
“ah, sorry..” nagi’s words are breathless as he finds himself leaning his weight onto you, just enough for him to balance himself before he takes another deep breath. “i think i’m gonna die.”
although you’re still curious.. and concerned, he could’ve been running from some mob or wild animal for all you know. “are you okay, what the hell?”
“nah, i kinda fell asleep.” nagi manages and you really try to hold in the giggle you can feel bubble through your throat. but you still let a grin twitch at your lips as he gives you a sleepy look.
“you’re only 2 minutes late.”
“ehhhh, really? so bothersome.” that’s when you really laugh as you feel him drape more of his weight on top of you, self-consciously you think.. but maybe it’s because he can just pass off the pinker flush of his skin right now to exhaustion but also a little embarrassment.
“oh, uh. i brought you this.“ nagi speaks again after a few more moments, reaching in to rummage around in his hoodie pocket before he’s pulling out a crumbled little package and placing it softly into your palms.
“a vitamin jelly?” you ask earnestly and there’s something charming about the way he shrugs before sending you a starry-eyed look then suddenly looks away when you meet it with your own.
“uh.. yeah, i thought you’d be hungry i guess. the store was busy so it was a hassle.”
“are you hungry?” it’s an honest question and you can see nagi humming it over in his mind for a few moments before he’s shrugging again, “a little. i’m sweaty, wanna take another nap now.”
although you think he seems a little perkier now as you let yourself grab onto the hem of his sweatshirt, urging him to follow behind you as you send him a pretty smile from over your shoulder that makes him burn.
“it was probably all the running, big guy. let’s get you some food.”
“hey, i just didn’t wanna make you wait.”
nagi thinks it was worth it though because you’re beautiful when you’re caught somewhere between a smile and a laugh— still holding onto the vitamin jelly he brought you and everytime his hand brushes against yours he can feel the urge to intertwine it with his own.
“are you sure you weren’t just excited to see me?” that really gets to him because he swears the rate of his heartbeat spikes like he just ran around tokyo twice, it’s unfamiliar—he’s not used to stuff like this. how’s he supposed to act? what does this even mean?
“don’t tease me, ‘ts no fair. ‘m too sleepy to fight back now. wanna carry me?” nagi drawls out lazily and he’s a little surprised when you actually laugh. another brush of his hand against yours as you walk and he thinks that maybe he’ll let it linger with the next one.
“no, but i can buy you lunch.”
“hm, ‘kay.”
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© 2023 GAROUJO. please do not copy any of my layouts or writing and translate or repost onto any other sites.
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mrsevans90 · 6 months
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Double Life
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Summary: Charlotte has gone on a few dates with a journalist named Clark Kent and she really feels like she’s falling for him. She has noticed some odd behavior from him every once in a while, but the worst part is not knowing if he’s truly interested in her. Why won’t he make a move? Is he just taking things extremely slow? Are her feelings for him unrequited? She finds the answers to all of her questions in the most embarrassing way imaginable. 
Pairing: Henry Cavill as Clark Kent/Superman x Female Reader Charlotte
Brief mention of Bruce Wayne x Female Reader
Word Count: 5,060 
Warnings: SMUT; masturbation, voyeur, oral (f), oral (m), squirting, cum swallowing, fingering, P in V intercourse, unprotected sex (wrap it up!), dirty talk, rough sex, language.
MINORS DNI! Must be 18+
I do not authorize any copying/pasting, stealing of my work, or using my words as your own. 
This story is not beta’d
A/N: This story came to me in a dream and I woke up and immediately typed the idea in my notes section of my phone. This is my very FIRST attempt at writing anything on Tumblr so all I ask is please be kind and if you love it then please comment and REPOST! Thank you for reading! 
*CHARLOTTE POV*
I woke up early Saturday morning. It seems impossible to sleep in now that I’ve become so used to being at the office by 8 am every morning. I feel a bit jittery after my date last night and am thankful for the wine that I consumed being the only reason I even was able to fall asleep. I lay in bed as my thoughts run wild. I know I should be getting out of bed and going for a run in an attempt to get rid of this pent-up energy, but glancing towards my bedroom window shows a dreary overcast day with a potential for rain. I toss and turn trying to find a comfortable position while my brain races thinking of last night. A handsome and often quiet man named Clark Kent had taken me on our fifth date. He was absolutely gorgeous, well dressed with his hair combed back, strong jaw with dimpled chin and black framed glasses. His incredible physique and handsome features are only partially what attracts me to him. His generous and mild-mannered personality and intelligence were a huge turn on. The attraction I feel for Clark is more than I ever remember feeling for a man before. My dating life since getting cheated on by my long-term high school boyfriend has been very short lived which I was fine with until now. I feel like I’ve continually held men at arm’s length, settling for a few one-night stands but nothing more in an attempt to spare my heart from more heartache. I realized after our third date that I wanted more with Clark and that he was worth the risk but I honestly am not sure how he feels about me. Yes, he’s continued to ask me on dates; taking me to dinner several times and even to a movie, yet he hasn’t made any more advances other than holding my hand and a cordial peck on the cheek. He walks me to my door after each date and ends our evening with a hug, kiss on the cheek and a goodnight. After our fourth date, I asked him if he’d like to come inside, however, he politely declined. I’m going out of my mind trying to figure out if he’s even interested but I haven’t built up the courage to ask him yet. I doubt I would even get the chance after I essentially stuck my foot in my mouth on the walk home from dinner with him last night. 
*Flashback to last night*
We walked past a storefront near my apartment that was advertising superman shirts for children and I commented how cute they were. I had noticed over the past month, that Clark was very quiet anytime I mentioned the famous Superman around him. Why couldn’t I just take the hint that he was uncomfortable?
“You know, you look an awful lot like Superman. I bet if you dressed as him for your work Halloween party, people wouldn’t be able to tell the difference in you both!” I said with a smile that quickly went away when I noticed him flinch.
Unfortunately, I didn’t stop my nervous rambling there. In my attempt to lighten the mood, I said, “I wouldn’t be surprised if it turned out that you actually are Superman! Ha ha! Do you have a secret identity you’re keeping from me, Clark?” I said with a wink. 
When I looked at Clark he seemed withdrawn and somewhat nervous. 
“No, no. I’m certainly not that interesting.” Clark quickly responded while looking at his feet as we walked into my apartment building.
“I’ve enjoyed tonight but I have to get going. I have, um… I have an early start in the morning attempting to interview people in Gotham City about the latest crime statistics.” Clark told me before I could even invite him inside. He seemed fidgety and awkward as he kept glancing anywhere but at my eyes.
“On a Saturday?” I ask and he quickly nodded while avoiding eye contact with me.
“Good journalism never takes a day off.” He said with an embarrassed smile. 
“I could possibly help. I have Bruce Wayne’s contact information if you’d like it. I’m sure he could be an interesting person to interview for your article.”
“You do? Why? I mean, how do you know him?” He responded with an arched eyebrow as he finally made eye contact with me for the first time in the past few minutes.
“Well, almost two months ago I met him at a charity gala for the Children’s hospital. He came over and spoke to me for a bit before he asked me on a date. It was the day after you asked me if I would go to dinner with you so I politely turned him down. He gave me his business card in case I changed my mind.” I responded quickly. Why does this feel so awkward? I didn’t do anything wrong but I still feel like he’s disappointed.
“I’m sure it’s on my desk in the apartment, if you’d like to come inside?” I ask as a last stitch effort to see if I had completely ruined this date.
“No, no that’s not necessary…Thank you, I appreciate the offer though. I’ll call you tomorrow, okay?” Clark asked with his typical kiss on the cheek. 
“Oh…okay. Goodnight Clark.”
“Goodnight Charlotte.” He responded before turning and beelining for the exit. 
“Way to go, Char. Could you be any more of a dumbass?” I quietly said to myself as I closed my apartment door and went to get ready for bed.
*Present Day*
As I continue to lay in bed I begin thinking about Clark and think about how large and strong his hand was as he cradled my small one in his while we walked to the restaurant. The veins in his muscular arms, and his strong, sharp jaw. My arousal begins to dampen my panties which I quickly remove and lay back in only my white tank top. Guess this will be the only sexual relief I will be getting for a long time. I thought to myself as I reach for the vibrator in my nightstand and begin pleasuring myself. After only a few minutes, I have kicked off my covers as my body begins to glisten with perspiration, and begin pleading for my orgasm to arrive. My eyes clamped shut, I imagine Clark’s large, strong chest against my own, his arms on either side of my head as he pumps what I can only imagine is a perfect and large cock into my warmth. I imagine his beautiful blue eyes staring into my own as he presses kisses to my body and sucks on my neck.
“Clark! Please, please, please, Clark! Ugh! I need you!” I say verbally as I continue to spur myself on in this filthy fantasy. 
CLARK POV:
Across town I am scrambling some eggs on the stove as I think about last night. Had Charlotte actually figured out my secret? Something the rest of the world seemed oblivious too? Or was she just joking and truly unaware? I had to deny it even though she was absolutely correct. I cringed as I began thinking about Bruce hitting on her. It’s not shocking since she’s possibly the most naturally stunning, intelligent, and interesting woman I have ever met. I believe I made it clear with him on the phone after I came home last night to stay away from my girl. I know she’s not technically mine, or a possession to own, but I have more claim to her heart than Bruce and I won’t allow him to interfere. Before I even realize it, I have squeezed a hand shaped imprint around the flimsy handle of the pan I was using.
“Damnit!” I mutter to myself.
I feel like Charlotte is getting impatient with me. It’s obvious that she wants more but how do I handle a relationship with someone I can’t be fully honest with. I want to tell her, I want her to fully know me but I feel like I can’t. I think back to how Lois was used essentially as bait when we were dating. The paranoia and pressure of being Superman’s personal kryptonite and obvious weakness was too much for both of us. Now, she was happily engaged to an engineer in the city. I’m delighted for her, she deserves true happiness yet I wonder if I’ll ever get to experience the same. I couldn’t stop myself from asking Charlotte on a date. The moment I saw her walking into the office next to me, I was lovestruck. Her long blonde hair, tight but professional dress with heels and most importantly crystal blue eyes. She was independent and driven as the head of marketing for her department. Yet, she still had this kindness about her as I watched her enter her building and the front desk guard hug her while thanking her for the toys she had sent home for his young children. She smiled genuinely and made him promise to bring his wife and children for a visit soon. God how I wanted every bit of her. I wanted her body, her mind, her future. The fourth time I saw her, I couldn’t help myself as I made my way towards her and “accidentally” bumped into her. We began a conversation and I was hooked. Before I could even think about the potential consequences, I was asking her to dinner. My cock ached as I thought about her in the shower last night after our date. Hell, I may be an alien but I still have sexual urges. She smelled and looked so beautiful. I could imagine her breasts pressed against my body. I daydreamt about the softness of her lips and the sounds she might make as I slowly took her apart. It has been almost impossible to turn down her invitations to join her in her apartment. I haven’t even allowed myself to kiss her because I’m scared to go any further and get more attached only to have her walk away if she finds out my secret. Was this self-preservation or just stupidity? I’m jolted out of my thoughts as I hear her voice louder than all the others noises going on around me thanks to my super hearing. I listen carefully as I hear her calling my name.
“Clark! Please, please, please, Clark! I need you!” 
I hear her whine and she sounds as if she is out of breath. Without thinking I jump into my Superman suit and bolt out of the window straight into the sky headed towards Charlotte’s apartment. As I get closer, I can hear her whimper along with her accelerated heartrate and I panic thinking she’s in trouble. I reach her unlocked window and slide it open before flying in. Her apartment smells just like her, floral and clean. I focus on her heartbeat and the quiet buzzing sound that I originally thought was coming from the apartment below hers. As soon as I open the door I smell her arousal at the same moment I watch her reach her climax with her eyes clamped shut. 
“Yes, baby!” She cries out. Her legs are parted as she holds a small purple vibrator against her clit and I can see and smell how turned on she is as her pussy glistens with her want. Her breasts are barely contained in a thin white tank top as they heave up and down while she breathes through her orgasm.
Fuck! I’m such a pervert. I need to get out of here before she sees me!
I can’t help but stare at her as she’s laying there twitching from her euphoria. I reach for the door to carefully close it before I realize I wasn’t quick enough.
“Oh my god!” She shouts as she pulls the covers over her body to cover her modesty. Her face blushing profusely as she stares at me.
I back up quickly with my hands in front of me until my back hits her hallway wall. “I’m so sorry. I heard you calling for me and I thought you were in pain. I swear I didn’t mean to walk in on you!” I blurt out quickly not even realizing my own mistake. Charlotte just stares at me with a shocked and bewildered look on her face.
“I’ll go, truly I’m so sorry about this, Ma’am.” I say with my eyes directed at the floor as I pray my rock-hard erection isn’t as obvious as it feels in my form fitting suit. Right as I turn to run back towards the window I hear her again.
“Wait! Please wait!”
Her eyes are wide as she slowly begins to smirk as I turn back around to face her, my eyes still drawn to the floor.
“I didn’t call out for Superman. I called out for Clark.” She says and I glance up at her with wide eyes as saucers as I realize that I had just outed my own secret. My cheeks blush and I can’t put together a single thought to respond to what she just said.
We stare at each other for what feels like minutes even though it’s only just a few seconds.
“I knew I was onto something. You’re always MIA around when Superman is on the news fighting crime, and you stiffen up anytime I mention him. You also had to leave early because of a “family emergency” on our third date but seemed confused later when I asked you if everything with your family was okay. That was the same night that serial killer was brought to the police station by Superman in Gotham. I…I hope you know that I won’t ever tell anyone, Clark. I thought you knew that you could trust me.” She says and I step towards her while remaining a safe distance.
“I’m…I’m so sorry, Charlotte. I didn’t mean to lie to you. I do trust you but I’ve had to keep this secret my entire life. I was scared at how easily you caught on. I always knew you were intelligent but I was hoping I could still keep you off of the scent of my deception.” 
“It was really just a theory, but obviously this is my confirmation. Since I’m already more than embarrassed after what you just saw, I guess I really have nothing to lose if I just go ahead and ask you.”
“I’m listening.” I say as I hear her heartrate begin to increase steadily.
“Is this why you’ve held back from me? Or are you even interested in dating me? I’m absolutely fine with taking things slow if that’s what you want. I can’t help my old insecurities that make me wonder if you’re even attracted to me and are serious about taking things further with us.” She says with the sweetest innocence and I can’t help but walk towards her and reach out to stroke her cheek. She pulls for me to sit down beside her and I can’t resist.
“I am absolutely interested in dating you, sweetheart. If you only knew how infatuated I am with you, it might frighten you. You are my dream girl, the one I think about each night, and the one person I feel like truly sees to my soul, even when you only knew half of my identity. I see a future for us, Charlotte, which is why I was scared. I was scared that you would run if you found out who I am. I was scared you then might only be interested in me because I’m Superman. Simple Clark just can’t compete with all of the Superman fanfare. What scares me the most is that you could be used as a pawn by dangerous people. I can’t fathom putting you in harm's way. People could come after me and find you to use against me. Being Superman ruined my last and only real relationship so I guess I felt that if I kept ours in limbo, I could still have the time I crave with you while also not losing you. I was afraid to let you in because of my own fears. It has absolutely nothing to do with you. I can’t even begin to tell you how hard it was to not kiss you during our dates or come into your apartment when you invited me. I’m so sorry if I made you feel anything other than absolutely adored. I’m out of my element and have no idea what I’m doing.” Clark says the last part with an embarrassed chuckle.
“Clark, I understand your fears and your sense of self-preservation. I do it too. I often feel like I’ve built the walls around my heart too high in order to protect myself from heartache but each moment I’ve spent with you seems to lower them. I see a potential future with you too which is terrifying and exhilarating all at once because I don’t want to be heartbroken again. I guess what I’m trying to say is that you are worth the risk.  I’m not afraid of you, or being with you. I’m not going anywhere. I want you in any and every form and I won’t run away. You are the only person that has made me feel alive again in years.”
Clark smiles triumphantly before leaning down and kissing Charlotte passionately. After kissing her for several minutes, she slowly pulls back to catch her breath.
“So, you’ve seen mine… When do I get to see yours? Fair is fair.” Charlotte looks up at me sultrily as she runs her hands up and down my arms.
“Are you certain that is what you want?” I smirk as I arch my eyebrow at her.
She nods as she sits up on her knees and drops the blanket that was covering her body only clad in a thin white tank top. 
“Only if you want too.” She seductively bites her lip as she trails her fingers down my torso and gently cups my bulge that is swelling indecently against my tight suit. 
“Holy shit!” She murmurs quietly as she presses against my engorged erection and I can’t help but chuckle.
Before I even think I’m unzipping and tugging my suit off of my body at super speed before leaning over her and ripping her tank top from her torso. She squeals in excitement as I lean over her pressing our hot naked bodies against each other while pulling her into a zealous kiss.  
“You don’t know how long I’ve fantasized about having you like this, Lottie. I’ve wanted you to be mine from the moment I saw you.” I say as I touch all over her beautiful body.
“Ditto, which you obviously know since you got a front row seat to my indecent fantasies about you.” She says with a little giggle as I begin kissing down her torso after having already sucked on her pert breasts.
I make my way down her body as I become face to face with her hot, dripping core. I smell the sweet arousal coming from her and when I look up at her for permission she quickly nods as she reaches to caress my cheek. I smirk at her before I begin feasting on her sweet petals and sucking on her clit. 
“Oh my god, Clark!” She almost yells while her hands tug against my hair as she begins gyrating her hips to increase the pleasure she is receiving from my mouth. I continue for a few minutes as I feel her begin to stiffen from her orgasm. I continue to lick her gently through her orgasm but decide that I’m not finished with her yet. I want to give her an orgasm so earth shattering that she squirts her arousal all over my face. She shouts as I shove my finger into her opening, quickly followed by a second one. I curl my fingers and search for her g-spot. 
I know quickly that I’ve found it when her back arches off of the bed and she yells, “Fuck! Clark! Right there!” 
I begin shoving my fingers against the soft spongey spot while my tongue continues to flick over her clit. 
“I think I’m gonna… oh shit Clark! This feels different! Oh my god!” She squeals as her body arches off of the bed and she begins to squirt. The sounds of her squelching and dripping are lewd as I continue to work her through it. Her body almost convulses around my assault and I preen at her filthy moans. I am doing everything to keep from blowing my load on her bed. I watch as Charlotte’s whole body quickly becomes jelly-like as her muscles relax and I lightly kiss her thighs. 
“That was beautiful, baby.” I say as I press small kisses on her hips and abdomen.
“Did I? Oh my god, Clark. Did I just squirt?” She asks as her cheeks are beet red.
“You sure did baby. Soaked my face and almost made me blow my load. Did it feel good?”
“Yes, but I’m so embarrassed. I’m so sor...” She began to say before I quickly cut her off with a kiss. 
“Don’t you ever apologize for that sweetheart. That was a pure masterpiece and I hope I’ll get you to do it again at some point. I don’t think I’ve ever been this turned on.” I admit before kissing her again.
“Now it’s your turn.” She smiles as she attempts to push me to the bed. It’s like a kitten trying to push a lion over which makes me grin before I quickly concede and lay on my back. 
“Babygirl, you don’t have too. I’m just happy to give you pleasure.” I tell her.
“Oh no, Mr. Kent. I’m not missing an opportunity to taste you.” Charlotte says as she begins moving down my body. I can barely lay still once she reaches my manhood and I feel her warm breath where I need her most. I groan as I take in the sight of her tiny hand wrapping around my girth as she begins to kitten lick along my length. I groan as she looks at me doe eyed before she takes me in her mouth. She has the mouth of a goddess and I’m already close before she even adds her tiny hand to pump what wouldn’t fit. I reach down and grab her long beautiful hair into a makeshift ponytail so I can watch her. I feel her tiny hand begin pulsing around my balls and groan loudly. I can’t help myself as I watch her steady herself before taking my entire length to her throat. She gags as her nose reaches my skin and she slightly pulls off before doing it again. Saliva is dripping from her chin as she continues working my cock.
“Babygirl, I’m gonna cum. You need to...fuck… stop if you don’t want it in your mouth.” 
She moans around my length as she doubles her effort and the vibrations feel heavenly. That’s all it took for me to reach my high and explode down her throat.
My body shivers in aftershocks due to the oversensitivity as Y/N continues to suck around the head of my cock and massage my balls. I look down and see that she’s swallowed everything and is smiling brightly at me. I reach down and pull her up my body as I immediately begin kissing her breathless. 
“Darling, that was incredible. Thank you.” I smile at her before I kiss down her neck. 
*CHARLOTTE POV*
My mind is empty of every thought due to the alarm bells and “OMG THIS IS ACTUALLY HAPPENING” screaming repeatedly in my head. I’m trying my best to play it off, but my fantasy is coming true and it’s even better than I ever could have imagined. Clark is not only the best kisser I’ve ever experienced, but he has the body of a Greek God. Well, in this case, he has a body of a superhero. I’ve been doing my best not to sound needy but heavens, I need him inside of me.
“Clark” I say as he continues to press gentle kisses behind my ear and the column of my neck.
“Yes angel?” 
“Please tell me I don’t have to wait long for you to be inside of me. I need you.”
He smirks above me as I feel his rigid cock against my abdomen. It didn’t go soft after his orgasm. “You want me right now?” I nod enthusiastically. 
“Spread your legs for me sweetheart. Take what you want.” Clark says huskily in my ear. For a man who seemed so reserved and shy, he has all of the confidence in the world when it comes to the bedroom. As he should!
I smile wildly as his chest vibrates against my own with a low growl as I reach his hard length and pump him a few times against my slick before pressing him to my entrance.
“Oh my god!”
“Shit!” 
We both speak simultaneously as he seats himself fully inside of me. It feels like he is reaching my lungs as he gives me a moment to adjust around his ginormous cock.
“God, Clark! You’re huge!” 
“Are you okay? Do you want me to stop?” Clark frets even though he hasn’t moved inside of me.
“Fuck no!” I respond almost breathlessly as I wrap my hands around his biceps tightly. 
“I’ve just never been with someone as big as you. I’m okay. You can move now.”
Clark carefully pulls almost completely out of me before gently sliding all the way back in. 
“Baby girl, you are so tight and warm. You feel incredible.” He says as he starts building up a gentle rhythm. 
“You won’t break me, baby. You can go harder.” 
“I could if I’m not careful, Sweetheart. I don’t want to hurt you.”
“I will tell you if it starts to hurt, I swear. Relax, baby.” I say before kissing him enthusiastically. He reaches and cups my tits in his hands, massaging them gently.
Clark watches me carefully before taking a breath and slamming into me roughly. His pubic bone slamming into my clit making me shriek with the sensation.
“How’s that for harder?” He whispers.
“Oh, fuck yes, baby! Just like that! You feel so good inside of me.” I whine as my hands scratch down his back without even making a mark on his strong impenetrable skin.
“That’s right, sweet girl. I can tell you’re close. Come all over my cock. Squeeze me.” He says as my body begins milking him. 
“CLARK!” I shout.
“Call me Kal, baby. When I’m balls deep inside this sweet pussy, I want you to call me Kal.” He says with the most shit eating grin while never slowing his pace.
“Oh my god, Kal!” I moan just before my eyes roll back and I instantly come all over him.
“Fuck yes, this is the tightest little pussy in the world. So beautiful and wet and snug around me.” He grunts as he continues to slam into me. Before I realize it, he’s sitting me up in his lap so that our chests are against each other and my legs are wrapped around his waist. Clark grabs the back of my neck to press himself even closer to me as I brace my hands on his shoulders. 
“Just when I thought you couldn’t possibly become more beautiful….” Clark whispers into my ear as he grabs my ass to help me move on top of him.
“Watching your gorgeous body tremble in ecstasy is the most incredible thing I’ve ever seen, Angel.”
Clark plants his feet against the floor and begins wildly thrusting as I rotate my hips in his lap. His hands are most likely leaving bruises on my hips but I don’t even care.
“I want you to come inside of me, baby. I need to feel you fill me up. I’m on the pill. Please?” I speak against his ear between his heavy thrusts into me and clench down on him at his responding moan. What has gotten into me? I’ve never let a man come inside of me. This isn’t just any man though, and I am absolutely feral for him.
“Only if you come with me.” He grunts.
“I can’t… it’s too much.” I tell him as my body shakes against him.
“Yes, you can, baby.” He reaches between us and presses his thumb on my clit. I cry out from overstimulation but realize I’m almost there.
“Kal, right there! I’m so close!”
“Come baby. Soak me.” He says as he continues to pleasure me and a moment later I have the most blinding orgasm of my life. I swear that I feel like I am floating as I hear Clark grunt and release a deep baritone moan as his warm come coats my inner walls. My body is shaking with tingles to all of my extremities as I am encased in pure bliss. When I finally somewhat come to, I realize I wasn’t just floating from my orgasm, Clark and I were actually floating above my bed. Clark’s head is resting on the junction of my neck and shoulder when I quickly press closer to him and wrap my arms around his neck to keep from falling.
Clark chuckles as he gently sets us down on the bed. “I guess you would’ve found out my secret eventually. I just came so hard that I literally levitated.” 
I giggle and press my lips to his. “I didn’t freak you out, did I?”
“Not at all. I think it’s really cool that you are Superman, Kal;” I say as I stroke a curl that has fallen onto his forehead. “but the man that I have been falling in love with is Clark. He is all I need. The rest is just a bonus. If you’ll have me of course.”
Clark rests his forehead against my own as he gives me the most panty dropping smile. “You don’t know how much that means to me, sweetheart. Will you be my girl?”
“I would love nothing more.” I respond with a sweet kiss. The rest of the weekend is spent wrapped in each other.
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randomshyperson · 4 months
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Teddy Pickers - Heart Shaped Series
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Chapter Summary: In the rare quiet time in the lives of fugitives, you and Wanda play a game of questions. It's like that old saying: There's always a peaceful period before the storm. Or could it be that this time, the storm has already passed?
Warnings: (+18), soft and almost entirely a smut chapter, making out, dirty talking but they are actually just playful and dorky with each other, more shapeshifting stuff, hints of PTSD and trauma talk, some self-doubt from both, mainly fluff and hurt/comfort | Words: 4.845k
A/N-> So I had two chapters ready but I hated them. I had to rewrite the whole thing because I was unsure where to take this story. I'm all on my supercorp era again and I was taking this to a very angsty line and I don't want that. So I changed and gave them peace and quiet instead. Also, I can't wait to write jealous hormonal mess Wanda in the next chapters! A good reading for you all!
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-&-
You woke up to her nightmares.
Still groggy from sleep, you rubbed your eyes and forced your body to react to the figure murmuring softly beside you, her face contorted in discomfort. At some point during the night, Wanda let go of you, snatched almost the entire comforter, and then began to dream.
And apparently, it wasn't a good one. It surprised you a little that you were affected by it, but you made a mental note of Wanda's impressive ability to emit a magical aura even in her sleep. That might explain why her room was set apart from the others in the tower.
Your touch was gentle on her face, and you called her softly until you woke her up. Wanda jumped a little, opening red, frightened irises until she realized she was just having a bad dream. She barely recognized your presence, and already pressed her face into your collarbone, breathing deeply against your skin.
"Are you all right, my love?" You asked after a moment, stroking her hair as her breathing returned to normal.
Wanda sniffled, and your heart broke. Your reaction was to look for her eyes, to reassure her, but she wrapped her arms tightly around you and wouldn't let you move away.
You sighed before adding: "It was just a bad dream, my little witch."
But Wanda sniffles again, this time pressing her face into your chest so that she can speak.
"It wasn't just a dream." She mumbles upset. "I was remembering... Pietro."
A lump forms in your throat. You swallow. "Oh, Wanda... I'm so sorry."
"It's all right." She hits back immediately, without moving a muscle. She continues to hold you as if she feels you'll disappear if she lets go. "It's been a while since I thought about that day. I didn't mean to disturb you."
"You certainly shouldn't worry about how I'm going to feel about this." You retort firmly. "He's your brother. You can cry all you want. I'll be here to hold you."
The words make her shift immediately and press her face against your body where you can feel new tears wetting your pajamas. But Wanda doesn't cry for long - she falls asleep again, her limbs locked tightly around you, and even though the position gets a little uncomfortable after a while, you don't have the heart to push her away. Especially since, after a while, her nightmares return and the magical aura is strong enough for the memories of the past to shine through your eyes.
You sigh, adjusting yourself to kiss the top of her head and settling her so that she's completely asleep on your body - which changes a little, growing just enough for Wanda to have all the soft hold she needs. She smiles unconsciously, tightening her embrace before falling back into a deep sleep. With the softness of her expression, you are reassured to know that the nightmares are gone, at least for the moment.
You try to fall asleep, but your ear picks up the soft vibration of your work cell phone in your jacket pocket hanging from the chair in the bedroom. Your body tenses during every ring, until it finally relaxes when the device goes silent. 
Work is calling, you know. Just as you know you can't run away forever.
Hours later when you wake again, it’s for rays of sunshine slipping the curtains and chaste kisses on your collarbone. You smile immediately.
"Morning, little witch." Your sleepy voice makes Wanda raise her eyes to you, her lips never leaving your skin. The soft scratch of her nails on your stomach makes your muscles twitch. "You're up to mischief, I see."
Your teasing makes her chuckle hoarsely, her hands climbing further up your pajama top and exposing your torso almost completely.
But instead of starting another trail of kisses, she sat up straight against your hip and waited for you to open your eyes.
"You change in your sleep." She declares as you stare at her, still awake. "Did you know that?"
You nod, and Wanda raises a curious eyebrow. She has a joke on the tip of her tongue about how the hell you knew something if you were asleep when you explain; 
"I used to be monitored twenty-four hours a day when I was a child. To prevent any minor detail from slipping through the records and interfering with the research."
Wanda bites the inside of her cheek, absorbing your confession for a second. She could count on her fingers the few times you had mentioned some random detail about your life before, and it took her by surprise. Almost everything she knew came from the Avengers' archives and carried technical and military analysis. She heard very little from your mouth.
"You never talk about your past." That's what she manages to answer because it's a fact. 
You offer her a small smile, your hands moving to reach her thighs on either side of your hips. 
"What would you like to know?"
Wanda sighs, her hands resting on your shoulders. "I'll listen to anything you want to tell me."
Your smile is tender, almost shy. Wanda likes it when she makes you blush, especially since you have the ability to conceal these reactions from her, changing and commanding your body according to your wishes. Even though you don't do it so often because you trust her.
What a thing. One of the world's greatest criminals blindly trusting an Avenger. She could actually feel very cocky about it.
"I have an idea." You then declare, your fingers playing with the edges of her shorts. Wanda stares at you expectantly, but you almost lose your train of thought at how deliciously beautiful she now looks. The slightly tousled hair, and well, the legs around you, and eyes that beg for everything but conversation. "Let's play a game."
"What kind of game?"
"A game of questions, of course." You retort good-humoredly, adjusting yourself a little to sit up straight. Wanda lets her hands fall to your lap. "Two truths and a lie. Traumatic childhood edition."
Wanda lets out a giggle, pinching you gently for the derogatory joke. You just smile at her, almost completely distracted by the sound of her laughter and the comforting feeling that moment brings to your chest.
"I've never played that one." She says after a moment. "What are the rules?"
"It's very simple. Each person states three facts, but one of them is false. You have to find out which one. The winner is whoever gets it right the most times, although I've just realized that playing something like that with a telepath isn't very fair." Wanda slaps you in a joking manner at the insinuation that she was going to cheat, getting a chuckle from you.
"I'll start then." She then states, assuming a thoughtful expression for a moment. You bite the inside of your cheek, resisting the urge to kiss her cute face and pay attention to the game. "With respect to the theme you've chosen, I grew up in a two-room apartment in the Sokovian countryside. When I was little, I could play the piano. And... I love to cook."
You hum thoughtfully, loosening your grip so that one of your hands goes to your chin. The whole theatrical expression makes Wanda giggle, her cheeks flushing with the way her stomach feels full of butterflies. 
"I say the first one's a lie."
She raises an eyebrow. "Really? Why?"
Your expression changes to one of almost conviction. "Because you grew up in Novi Grad, the Sokovian capital, and not in the countryside. And I have to say, it's very bold of you to assume that I haven't done my homework on you, Wanda Maximoff."
Wanda feels a wave of warmth hit her body and spread with your words. Or perhaps, the way your eyes shine in a way that hides meaning. She allows herself to imagine for a moment your figure in the same clothes you wore when she first met you, frantically going through files at night to learn everything you could learn about her.
It reminds her a little of herself, days after your first encounter, how even though Wanda tried to be as secretive as possible, casually asking about missions in which you faced the Avengers, or reviewing mission files on the pretext that she was studying, Natasha realized what she was doing right away.
Clearing her throat, Wanda looked down, a little embarrassed. "I did the same. With-for you, I mean."
 You smiled, looking at her with an almost impressed expression. "Oh, really? I'm flattered."
"Shut up." She giggles shyly in response, but you, despite chuckling too, insist more firmly;
"No, really. I think it’s quite romantic."
Wanda frowns slightly. "What, being obsessed with each other?"
"Yes." 
"You have problems." She retorts in a false seriousness that makes you smile before Wanda swallows dryly at the way your gaze is focused intensely in her direction. The tension that rises is almost too much for her to be able to say anything else. Yet, she tries with a husky voice. "You got it right. The game, I say."
You nod, smiling. Your open palms on her thighs go up inside her shorts, and Wanda holds her breath for a second. But they only serve to make a gentle lever and pull Wanda closer by her ass, and she bites her lips at the new position, very aware of the warmth on her cheeks and neck.
"My three facts are as follows, Maximoff." You begin, your dark gaze on her previously bitten lips for a moment before focusing on her eyes again. "I was a laboratory experiment all through my childhood. I really like you." Wanda smiles, scrunching her nose adorably. You get momentarily distracted, gaze falling to her lips again. She catches your eyes, a smirk cracking on her mouth when she leans in, subtly asking you to break the distance. End the game. When you manage to talk again, your voice is barely a whisper; “I’m allergic to peanuts.”
She chuckles, arms interlocking behind your head. Wanda mutters a joke, something about keeping an eye for the food, but you firm your hands on her thighs and bring her closer to press your mouths together. It’s a hot kiss - charged with all of your naughty intentions. She lets out a soft moan when your tongue slides on hers, slow and sensual. But suddenly, Wanda breaks the kiss with flushed cheeks and a curious gaze on her eyes.
“Wait!” She asks breathlessly, to which you stare equally affected but expectant. “Your file did have peanuts listed as allergy.”
Damn, you thought you could win that one. A little grin starts to form on your lips, but Wanda narrows her eyes in your direction.
“Someone really did her homework on me, I see.” You tease, leaning in to go back to kissing her, but she evades your attempt, eyes shining a little dangerously.
“If the food was not the lie, and I know for a fact that you were an experience most of your life… Then the lie-” You wanted to laugh at the hidden panic hidden behind her eyes. Honestly, this woman.
What was she even thinking? That you would let her down in some game while having her on your lap? Hours after telling her that you love her?
It should be a hint enough that you’re smiling, for Wanda to realize there’s a joke there. But somehow, she grows more insecure. Her eyes flash red for a moment before and it’s a clear warning.
You just chuckle. “It’s all about semantics, darling.” You explain because it looks like Wanda might cut your head off if you don’t clarify exactly what lie you told. “I don’t just like you. We’re not in middle school. I love you, remember?”
The tension visually leaves her shoulders, but something else happens. Her cheeks and ears grow hotter and Wanda is once more a flustered mess, feeling pretty much like a shy middle schooler because you’re talking about feelings.
You think she’s beautiful, so you tell her that too. “God, you’re beautiful.”
She giggles coyly, kissing you because that’s all she can do without making a fool of herself. Well, if you keep rubbing her thighs under her shorts like that, she’ll probably make a fool of herself anyway, considering how she gets patheticly overwhelmed whenever you touch her.
For a while, you just made out. Slowly and passionately with wandering hands and panting kisses. It’s just nice to feel each other, to hold each other. It’s also very hot to feel Wanda rubbing herself on your lap until the soft friction is not enough.
She bites your lip when that happens, her hips more impatient and frantic against your thigh. All you can do in return is firm your hands on her waist, helping her get what she wants, what she needs. And Wanda stops kissing you because all she can do is moan in return for the time being, quite aware of the wetness dripping down her shorts.
She starts whining into your mouth when she’s close, and it’s too much for you - How can Wanda expects you not to fuck her properly when she’s doing that? - Your hands flip her over in a heartbeat. She barely has time to protest for the interruption of her previous, and desperate motions, when you’re all over her. Groping your way into her clothes, tearing it apart, and taking more eager sounds from her throat.
And Wanda, she’s such a tease. Dark dilated eyes shining with mischief and begging you to just fuck her. The way she lets you strip her out of her clothes, and how she slightly opens her legs, rubbing her ankles behind your kees, inviting you to just-
“Fuck.” You pant for the image in front of you. Wanda bites her lips, one of her hands finding its way to her soft breasts, fingers teasing the hard nipple like she doesn’t mind the slightest that you could lose your sanity to such a sinful gesture.
But Wanda is getting impatient too. The hot knot on her belly is making her dizzy. You’re making her dizzy.
“Need you so bad, detka.” She meowed, her hips arching into the air, allowing you a clear view of her drenched pussy. You can see how wet she is, smell it, yet, a true confirmation only comes when you use one of your hands to press her back into the bed while your free fingers find her warm entrance. Wanda cries out when you enter her, but she’s so hot and so tight, that you have to pull out before pushing two fingers in again and again, stretching her out while she struggles to breathe. Her thigh muscles twitch when your thumb finds her clit, every drawn circle against the hardened bud rips a new throaty moan out of her. 
When she’s close again, impossibly tightly against your fingertips, throbbing, you hum pleasantly, your free hand gripping her waist to take control of her uncoordinated movements. Wanda cries out when you force her into your fingers, reaching deeper now and too good for her to hold back, so the hot knot on her belly explodes without warning and she arches her back, twitching and choking on a moan before going limb on the mattress. You keep fingering her gently, prolonging her orgasm until she complains about the overstimulation with a tug on your wrist. 
You pull your fingers out but not kiss her as she would wish - Instead, you lean down and her dizzy expression falters into a gasp when your mouth finds her cunt, tongue licking every drop of cum you just manage to get. Her natural reaction is to back away, she’s sensitive. But you grab her thighs, find your place between her legs, and start to eat her out like you’re starving. 
“Oh God…fuck-” Her choked moaning mixing in English and Sokovian is music to your ears. Her eyes close on instic, because it’s too much and somehow not enough - Your tongue is teasing her, playing with her clit but not using the necessary pressure she needs. She just came and you barely started and Wanda is ready for more, painting for more.  One of her hands finds your hair, a strong grip that works like a warning. Yet, she says or at least tries to, since it sounds a lot more like a whine than anything else: “Stop teasing.”
To be fair, she could probably ask you anything at any time, especially now. While dripping so sweetly into your tongue, clenching and begging for more. You hum accordingly, ending your tease when sucking on her clit. Wanda screams. Loud enough for other people to hear, that’s for sure, but none of you cares about that. Not now, probably not never.
She can’t hold longer after that, not when you’re doing everything to get another climax out of her, fingers finding her pussy again to help your tongue. It’s so messy and sloppy and nearly desperate. Your own underwear has been bothering you for a while now and Wanda crying out your name is definitely not helping with that.
It’s not a surprise that when she comes, the room shudders a little. Wanda’s not being careful, she’s too gone for that now. Little were the times when she didn’t, couldn’t, hold back herself, her magic. The energy flows to her veins like the heat spreading under her skin when she orgasms and it’s breathtaking and overwhelming and she’s coming so hard that she can’t hold anything back. A wave of warm magic explodes around, her red irises open like her mouth in a silent scream, and it’s beautiful. Wanda is perfect, and she’s all yours. 
She only realizes she ripped the sheets when you move back to her and the bed makes a noise that forces her to notice the room. Such a mess she made. Someone will have to pay for bedroom fixing.
“Enjoying yourself, aren’t you witchy?” You tease fondly about the whole setting, the new crack on the window, the little sparks of her magic that still flow around. Wanda sighs satisfied, her hands finding your face when you’re close enough. When she kisses you, her taste is there and she can only moan at the dirty of that act, how you suck her tongue like you’ve sucked her clit a few minutes ago. 
Wanda doesn’t break the kiss to move her hands lower, groping your still-dressed figure and only now realizing how that is actually torturous.
“Hmm, I’ve been so selfish, milyy (darling). You must be needing me as well.” She mutters between one kiss and another, and you’re almost so distracted by her new dominance over you that you barely notice her hands. Barely. You follow her lead, resting your back on the bed so Wanda can hover over your body. Her fingers move under your shirt, scratching the skin and giving her a nice time feeling you twitch. The way she looks at you is also a lot to handle without shaking.
Suddenly, Wanda pants, eyes diverting to your chest. “Oh, hello you two”. She doesn’t mind your shyness, shamelessly groping your boobs under your shirt. “I missed those.”
You chuckle out of breath, pulling your shirt off while Wanda just stares and plays with them. “I can’t believe you just talked to my boobs.”
She squeezes, pulling the tip until it’s hard under her touch. You bite your lips, to keep your sound under control but you can feel a new wave of warm wetness spreading towards your lower belly. 
“Well, I’ve missed them. It’s been a while, since, you know, you actually had those two.” She so casually talking about it, it’s not that you mind that, but she’s also touching and squeezing them and you’re way too horny to have a conversation.
With very warm cheeks, you try to anyway; “Hm, they usually stay in the way of the job.” Wanda leans down, forcing her head between your breasts, muttering something like so soft and she’s such a dork that you have to chuckle. “It’s just extra work to find the right clothes and then changing every time I need a new face and matching body.”
Despite her clearly interest in your chest, Wanda is listening as she lets you know with a hum of knowledge. But then her mouth envelops one of them and it’s just too much for you to focus on anything else but the feeling of her tongue. You pant to the ceiling, shaky fingers gripping her hair, telling her to keep going but Wanda is such a teasing brat. There’s a small ‘pop’ sound when her mouth lets go, and a trace of saliva still connects your nipple to her lips before Wanda goes for the other one. You squirm a little under her, blushing intensely because she’s such a tease and apparently wants you to beg for it. 
She takes no pity on the ache between your legs; When her mouth leaves your breast again, she has this mischievous sparkle in her eyes that makes you gulp.
“I think I’m a little obsessed with them.” She tells you, giving your tits another squeeze, a little harder this time.
You gasp. “You think?”
“Huh-huh.” She replies, nodding. “You had it on your first night together. Then never again until today. It’s because you miss me sucking them, malysh (baby)?”
You roll your eyes at the words, teasing words evidently. The little cocky smirk that almost makes you go back to being the one in charge. To be completely honest, Wanda was always the one in charge. Even when she allows you to be on top. 
“You’re mistaken, Maximoff.” You retort her while giving her a gentle tug on her thighs, to bring her closer because you really need some kind of pressure between your legs. Wanda doesn’t have to be a mind reader to get the hint - Her knee finds your middle as she straddles your thigh, and she doesn't mind hiding her grin at how you let out an affected sigh at that. “I also had them when I first met you.”
She frowns a little, scrunching her nose in a thoughtful way. You are about to clarify when her knee moves away for her hand to take the spot. And well, you can’t think of saying anything, coherent at least, with Wanda finger’s filling you up so nicely. She seems to be enjoying herself as well - Watching attentively at every strangled noise that escapes you with the consistent pace inside you.
But suddenly as if remembering your previous words, she gaps: “Oh my god, you’re right!” She says, somehow her excitement brings her deeper inside of you. All you can give her as a response is a whine. “You were pretending to be one of the gala’s hosts right? The.. damn, i can’t remember his name-”
“W-wanda..” You meowls, the heat is too much. The way she just keeps pumping in and out of you, and talking about something else as if turning you into a whining mess is nothing, actually makes you throb. 
Wanda just smiles, ignoring your protest to the conversation and quite satisfied with the growing wetness she can feel on her fingertips. “Oh, I remember it now. The host only had daughters, so you did your part. Also one of the few times I saw you in a dress, baby. And what a view that was.” She leans in, whispering soft praises into your ear while you struggle to breathe. It takes you over the edge quickly, and Wanda is rewarded with the sweetest whimper once the knot in your belly explodes - One of your hands grabs her wrist, to keep her there as if she ever thought of leaving. Your hips jerk a few times as you ride the last waves of your climax and Wanda watches all of it, as breathless as you, truly mesmerized by the scene.
When you can breathe again, there are green irises staring at you with adoration. “Hi.”
“Hi you.” It’s your tender reply, and when Wanda leans in to kiss your lips, she can feel your smile. One of your hands moves to her face, gently caressing her skin. Once the kiss is broken, you talk first. “I love you, Wanda.”
You sound so vulnerable, so true, that she swallows. Her gaze focused on your eyes. It’s almost like there’s more to add, at the same time, as if the confession meant even more than just caring about someone. Wanda remembers the first time you said, how you mentioned that she was the first person you ever said that to, and somehow she understands it that it meant that you trusted her very deeply. She bites her lips, withdrawing her fingers from you. She doesn’t miss the soft sigh that escapes you, but she says nothing to that. Wanda is busy taking your wetness to her mouth and sucking her fingers clean. The image is enough to bring not only a strong color to your cheeks but a dark shine to your eyes.
You are ready to break the distance again when knocks on the door break the bubble you two are in completely.
And Captain Rogers's voice from the outside of the room kind of breaks the mood entirely. 
“Hello? I’m… sorry to interrupt. I just need a word. With everyone. Please, huh, join us downstairs?” You and Wanda hide your giggles - The Captain was obviously flustered to call you two, especially judging by the noises Wanda didn’t mind to restrain, probably everybody knew what you two were up to. And it was definitely Natasha’s idea that he was the one who called; the widow was having some fun with her friend's clumsiness.
Wanda cleared her throat, unwillingly taking her attention from you to the door. “We’ll be right out, Steve.”
Once the sound of his footsteps became more distant, Wanda kissed you again. She seemed determined not to move away from you.
-&-
Sergeant Barnes was in Wakanda, undergoing recovery.
When Steve mentioned the country, he looked directly at you, and that was enough for you to know that whatever the king had told him about your adventures there, the captain was on the monarch's side. Not that it mattered all that much.
Consciously or not, while Steve was updating the team, you discreetly scratched the scar you received the last time you were there. If you concentrated, you could remember exactly how painful it was to receive the Wakandian words for thief on your skin.
And seeing the heroes of Earth around you, with inside jokes and personal stories, made you feel very out of place. As if they too could see the scar, even if it was covered by an oversized sweatshirt now.
You swallowed dry and took advantage of the fact that Natasha was finally telling everyone what had kept her busy for the first few weeks on the run, to slip away towards a snack machine.
Wanda followed you with her eyes, aware of all your reactions to the conversations. She just wanted you to feel at ease with the others too, but she knew the opposite feeling well. She was once new to the presence of the Avengers, and they could be rather intimidating. Even the friendliest of them. Maybe it was a superhero thing.
You were deciding between the first and third row when Natasha caught Wanda's eye again. She wanted the witch to be paying attention to the conversation, it seemed important.
The widow took a deep breath. "I never told any of you this, because I thought it was in the past. But... I have a sister. Her name is Yelena Belova and-"
But the news and the shock had to be left for later. A bang from the other side of the common area interrupted Nat's story, and the whole team stood up.
You had just shoved a person hard enough to break the glass of the snack machine. But the attacker's exclamation of pain made you let go immediately.
The masked figure pushed you back harshly, but you laughed in amazement. 
"You weren't supposed to make a scene, you idiot." Complained the woman, massaging her sore shoulder due to the impact. She barely had time to regain her balance and half the Avengers were in fighting position, one particular witch making her take a step back, hiding in your protection.
You acted quickly, gesturing to the heroes to stand down, before throwing one of your arms under the smaller one shoulder.
"Relax, everything's fine!" You declared happily. You tugged at the combat mask she was wearing, revealing the unknown woman's face, which caused her to elbow you, which you ignored. "Meet Layla El-Faouly, my business partner."
The curly-haired woman forced a smile and waved. Wanda was the last of the team to drop her attack position.
-&-
A/F/N-> If you haven't watched Moonknight, please do. Layla El-Faouly is simply incredible. I can't give away too many spoilers for those who haven't seen it, but she's also a thief and a really skilled one. It would be a waste to have an international thief reader who didn't know her.
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lazycats-stuff · 4 months
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How about one where Bruce and M!Reader have been dating for a while. Reader lives in the manor and everyone in the family has opened up to reader accept Damien. One night when reader is babysitting Damien while everyone else is out reader is able to finally get through to Damien. He really opens up to reader and even ends up falling asleep in readers lap much to the shock of everyone. Reader becomes Damien’s favorite person and he is always practically clinging to readers side. If not it’s totally fine!
Oh yes! Bruce would wonder for ages. Also, no specific version of Bruce in mind, imagine any version you want. This gif popped up first.
Summary: (Y/N) does something that no one was able to do. Damian opened up.
Warnings: fluff, mentions of psychological warfare, (Y/N) is patient man, Damian is not trusting, did I mention fluff?,
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(Y/N) and Bruce were match made in heaven according to Bruce's three boys plus Alfred. Bruce and (Y/N) have been dating for 3 years and (Y/N) has moved in just a few months ago to live with Bruce. The 3 boys were happy. One wasn't. But we will get to that later.
Every member of this house, expect for one, loved (Y/N). At first they thought that he was a gold digger and was just looking for money and fame. Couldn't be further from the truth. Bruce even trusted (Y/N) to tell him that he's Batman.
He was often supportive of them, didn't try to stop them, or talk them out of it or snitched. In fact, before (Y/N) moved into the manor, he would leave little snacks for the boys and Bruce to take during patrol. He slept during that period because he has a job and he can't work while sleepy.
Everyone loved it. Besides Damian, but we will get to him later. Of course, they all went to the apartment to get those snacks. It was a nice change and those snacks were lit. They gave them an energy boost and they were all happy to have the boost that runs out when they get home.
And there was one important thing that (Y/N) has that Bruce is not really known for it. Emotional availability. Boys came by to his apartment when they needed to talk to him about anything and they would be sure that (Y/N) wouldn't tell anything to Bruce unless it was serious.
Now, when Bruce proposed to (Y/N), everyone was happy. Besides Damian, but that was then. The 3 out of the 4 four boys were happy that they had a stable person alongside Alfred and they would be happy to have a second parental figure, considering that Bruce was slightly overwhelmed and needed support he needed.
Of course, the media caught wind of this and was all over (Y/N) for it. It was difficult to live a normal life, but since he was an author, he spent his time at home and just decided to keep going out to a minimum. Bruce made sure he was taken care of, knowing it wasn't easy.
(Y/N) moved in when his address got leaked and the press started hounding him even more. Bruce already wanted (Y/N) to move in, even before he proposed to him. So, one weekend, (Y/N) packed his stuff and Bruce helped him move to the manor, making some space in his room, just for (Y/N).
Everyone was happy and helped (Y/N) in any way to help him settle in. Besides Damian. Damian wasn't happy by any means and he didn't like any of this. His mother should have been the one in (Y/N)'s spot.
So what does Damian do in that situation?
Psychological warfare it is. (Y/N) found his stuff going missing from time to time. Damian would be close to him one day, then distant and cold the other and there was no way to see if he was actually any progress. Then, it got a little bit more extreme.
Damian tried to mess with him even more, more directly. Bruce and the others tried to persuade Damian and Bruce knew that punishment would only fuel the problem. (Y/N) knew that he had to prove himself to Damian that he could stand in this family.
So, (Y/N) asked Bruce to train him. To show him the ropes. Bruce was surprised and he could see why, he was hesitant, but did it anyway. Now, (Y/N) knew how to fight, knew how to see signs of something psychological happening, such as manipulation and warfare.
(Y/N) was more than ready to take on Damian and crack that tough exterior. Bruce was more than supportive, but worried that (Y/N) doesn't get hurt by Damian. (Y/N) has said that it doesn't matter. He wants Damian to accept him no matter how long it took.
Everything came to a head one evening when everyone needed to go out somewhere and (Y/N) was stuck babysitting Damian. He didn't mind it actually and it was going to be a great time to bond. Of course, if Damian wants to bond. He would never force Damian to bond. It would counter productive.
Right now, he would fancy a movie night or something like that. He made himself comfortable on the couch, a cup of green tea on the coffee table and he got himself a blanket. He put some snacks on the table too and turned on the TV to check what's on.
He could easily go to Netflix and check what to watch. This is going to be a rather nice night.
" You know father doesn't love you? " Damian said from behind the couch, near the kitchen. (Y/N) turned his head to look at him and then took his hot green tea.
" I know he does, otherwise I wouldn't be engaged to him. "
Damian scoffed and moved closer to the couch, but still far enough.
" You can scoff all you want, but I know you hate me because me because you want your mom to be with Bruce so that you can be a family. " (Y/N) said and Damian was quiet. (Y/N) knew he has hit a nail on the head with that statement.
" Also, I know you think I will try to replace your mom, but I won't be trying to. "
Damian scoffed once more and (Y/N) laugh. " Damian, you were raised by assassins and you are the son of Batman. You know when people are bullshitting you. " (Y/N) said and took a sip of his tea.
Damian knew that as well. He could see if someone was lying directly to his face. Damian moved quietly and sat down next to (Y/N), still some distance between the two. (Y/N) didn't say anything as he watched Damian, waiting for him to start. He waited for Damian to start talking.
" I... Do you know anything about my upbringing? " Damian asked (Y/N), crossing his arms, still defensive.
" I just know it was rough. Some said hell. I don't know any specifics. " (Y/N) explained and sipped his tea.
" Well... It could be described as hell... I was taught to kill anyone in 50 different way using a single object. I was never really shown love, only seen an heir to the league and the son of Batman. " Damian started and (Y/N) put his tea down, giving him his full attention.
Damian stayed silent before he started talking once more. " I was trained to be an assassin and love was... Not a thing there. When I came here, I was still cold, despite everyone trying to be nice to me. I guess deep down, I still missed my mother. When you entered the picture, I was pissed. I thought you wanted to replace my mom. " Damian paused for a moment.
(Y/N) watched him in silence. He allowed him to compose himself.
" And you were nice, so I got suspicious. Even when father recently proposed to you, I was mad and pissed." Damian said, frowning and shaking his head. " I couldn't understand why you would be so loving towards us. But I see the way father looks at you and how much he loves you and how much he has opened up emotionally. The way everyone has... " Damian stopped and moved closer to (Y/N) who lifted a blanket to let Damian get closer.
Damian did just that and he hugged (Y/N). (Y/N) wanted to scream from happiness, but he had to remain calm. " And when you didn't leave when I messed with you, there was something more than intrigued me about you. "
(Y/N) put his hand on Damian's shoulder and Damian relaxed. " I'm guessing I didn't get any love when I was younger so I guess I was just repellent to love. "
(Y/N) smiled and hugged Damian. " Don't blame yourself. I don't blame you at all. If you feel bad, we can start over completely. A new slate. Clean slate. " (Y/N) suggested and Damian nodded and (Y/N) saw a small smile on Damian's face.
" Good. " (Y/N) said, smiling widely and watched as Damian put his head on his lap, before covering himself with the blanket. I smile and pat his head.
" I know it's not easy to trust me, but I'm here for the long run. " (Y/N) said and Damian let out a hum.
" Are you tired? " (Y/N) asked and Damian nodded, closing his eyes. (Y/N) didn't say anything and caressed Damian's hair. (Y/N) smiled widely, happy that Damian liked him.
Bruce and the others came back home, worried beyond belief. Is (Y/N) hurt? Is he even alive? Bruce and the others checked the living room, one worried for his fiancé, the others worried for their dad number two.
Well, they didn't expect to see Damian sleeping in (Y/N)'s lap, looking calm and peaceful. (Y/N) shushed them with bringing his finger to his lips. He smiled back at Damian who shuffled a little bit, looking like he was going to wake up, but he remained asleep.
Bruce's jaw dropped a little.
" Hi. " (Y/N) whispers and Bruce smiled, melting at the sight of Damian laying on (Y/N)'s lap. The other 3 boys are still in shock.
" How? " Bruce whispered back as he moved closer to the duo.
" He opened up on his own. " (Y/N) whispers and Bruce cards his hand through Damian's short hair.
" Really? " Bruce whispered and kissed (Y/N)'s forehead.
" Yes. I think Damian and I will bond more. " (Y/N) whispered back, smiling. He kisses Bruce softly and looks back at Damian.
" Lets get him to bed and then get you to sleep. I'm afraid that I have to go on patrol tonight. " Bruce explains and take Damian into his arms. (Y/N) stands up and says hi to his other sons. He gave each a hug, before going to his room to sleep. He made sure that Damian is tucked in the bed and Bruce made sure he tucked Damian in correctly.
After that night, Damian was always near (Y/N), following him around, making sure he was safe at all time. Can you blame Damian? When ever they are out and doing something, press hounds them and Damian has to make sure that his dad is okay. Like, what did you expect from him?
Bruce didn't say anything as he saw how Damian spent a lot of time with (Y/N). It was nice to see and Bruce know how Damian would protect him from anything that might hurt him.
Now, what shocked Bruce was the first time Damian called (Y/N) dad. It was not something he expected and he had to sit down on the couch for a moment.
The rest of the family lost their collective minds. (Y/N) cried and hugged Damian tightly. He has never been happier and he was officially going to adopt all four of them. He talked to Bruce about adopting those four, but only when they all accepted them.
Now he was going to do just that, without a doubt. The others also called him dad, but Damian calling him that? (Y/N) was officially happy and could move to adopt all four boys. He would do that once he marries Bruce and since Bruce has connections, he could speed the thing up.
Now, does any of this mean that Damian is (Y/N)'s favorite son? Nope. He loved all of them equally. Maybe a little bit more than Bruce. And now, even when (Y/N) and his sons are now cuddling on the couch, watching a movie, (Y/N) has never felt so calm and relaxed.
This was something that he wishes never stops. Bruce may have or may have not snapped a few pictures.
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beeing1alive · 20 days
Text
Tokyo Revengers boys have to sleep on the sofa after an argument
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f.t.: Mikey(Manjirō Sanō); Darken(Ken Ryūgūji); Mitsuya(Takashi Mitsuya)
Mikey:
he argued with you and you both got loud
after an hour he couldn't take it anymore and left to ride his motorbike through the city to clear his head. motorbike through the city to clear his head
when he came back, his bedding wasn't in his bed as usual, but on the sofa instead
asked you what that was about and you told him that you needed a bit of distance from him and that he needed to sleep on the sofa
became very quiet and went to sleep on the sofa without another word
but he couldn't sleep because he missed you
so after a few sleepless hours, he came over to you and meekly explained that he couldn't fall asleep without you and that he missed you
he also apologised to you
and because he was so sweet, you forgave him and said that you wanted to cuddle
he doesn't need to be told twice and goes straight to bed with you to cuddle you
you stayed like that for the rest of the night and he fell asleep after just a few minutes
Draken:
the argument started with the normal question of where he had been
but he was irritated and then just snapped at you that you didn't have to care
he got a bit too loud and rude
you left and left him alone in that room
this room was full of angry energy and it sounded like everything he had just thrown at you echoed off the walls
fell into a chair and slumped down, thumb and forefinger pressed to the bridge of his nose
he regrets it, so so so so much
wanted to tell you the same thing and jumped up to run out of the room, still reeking of aggression, into the living room
you were nowhere to be found, only his bedding had been thrown on the sofa
had actually intended to tell you that he couldn't sleep without you and neither could you without him, but realised that you probably wanted some peace and quiet and left you alone
so lies down without you on the otherwise warm and cosy sofa, which seems much colder and more uncomfortable to him at the moment, and tries to sleep
as expected, it didn't work
at some point, early in the morning, he couldn't take it any longer and came to you in the bedroom to ask if he could lie down with you
You didn't answer him, you just threw back the covers next to you back as a symbol that he could lie down with you
mumbled a thousand apologies into your hair as you lay there wrapped up in his arms and the blanket like a borito
Mitsuya
was stressed and, honestly, I hope we can all agree that he doesn't usually take things like that out on the people he loves, especially not you
but even he makes mistakes from time to time and sometimes his brain circuits go haywire
so he grumbled at you and used words that you had heard coming out of his mouth
you just stared at him at first, because that's not his way of just not driving you
that's why you were shocked and the last word you said was that you needed time to think, alone
screwed up in pain at the thought of all the things he had just accused you on
but he respects your decision and will leave you alone until you're ready to talk
is still surprised when he sees his bedding lying on the sofa in the living room and knows straight away that he certainly couldn't go to sleep without you
doesn't even try to sleep and prefers to continue working on one of his works for you instead
at some point he got so tired that he decided to ask you if he could sleep with you after all
asked you as politely as possible and assured you that something like that would never, ever happen again
you allowed him to, of course, how could you have ruled otherwise when he was standing there in the doorway like an abandoned kitten and unintentionally at that -thanks you and apologises to you until you effectively shut him up with a brief kiss of reconciliation and he then simply drifts off to sleep with you in his arms
Attention: The characters and the gif do not belong to me. All credits go to the actual owners. If you want anything to be changed or removed, please write to me.
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froggibus · 11 months
Text
I Love You, I Love You. It’s Disgusting. - Leon S Kennedy
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Pairing: Leon S Kennedy x reader
Genre: angst, hurt/comfort
Word Count: 1.5k
Summary: the deal has always been no serious commitment, but that all changes when you accidentally confess your love for him
CW: FWB, angst -> fluff, hurt/comfort, commitment issues, unrequited love, mutual pining, love confessions
syd? making fun of Leon’s commitment issues? call that projecting B)
————
“Do you really have to go?” You look up at Leon with sad eyes. 
He tugs his jeans over his hips and starts to lace his belt through the loops. He sighs. It was barely five in the morning, you should’ve been dead asleep. You usually were.
Through the countless times Leon had ran out on you during the night, you had been out cold. It made it easier for him—not having to see the disappointed look on your face, not having to confront your feelings. 
All it took was one fumble of his hands for his phone to clatter on your floor, snapping you out of your sleep. He knew he was fucked as soon as your eyes flickered open. 
“You know I do,” he says. “It’s work and—”
“It’s always work,” you mumble bitterly, drawing your knees into your chest. 
“My work is important.”
“And I’m not?”
It was a low blow. You knew the nature of your relationship just as much as Leon—nothing serious, no commitments, just him reaching out to you in the dead of night for a shred of comfort. Your arms were wide open for him, but he always kept you at arm’s length. 
You’ve tried so fucking hard to not catch feelings for the man, knowing how he is and his inability to ever commit. Still, when he had walked into your door a week ago and wrapped his arms around you, your feelings bubbled to the surface. 
All week, it had been on your mind, on the tip of your tongue. Not that you would ever say it—those weren’t words you could say to him, not unless you want to be hurt. 
“You know what this is,” he sighs, “so I don’t know what your problem is.”
Leon’s words make you cringe, but you know he’s right. If you were less stubborn, you would just move on. Find someone who actually wants to move forward with you. But that would mean moving on from Leon, and a part of you knows that you never truly could. 
I love you. The words float around in your mind, trying to force their way out of you. You bite them back, swallowing hard. 
“The problem is that I don’t want this, Leon! We’re not kids anymore, I want to move forward with my life!”
“And why does that have to be with me?”
You tug on your hair in frustration. “Because I lo—” you stop yourself before the words slip out, but the look on Leon’s face tells you that he knows what you were going to say. 
You turn your head away from him and bite your tongue, trying to hide your wet eyes from him. You can hear him rustling his clothes behind you, pulling his t-shirt and jacket on. 
Leon can’t bring himself to say anything. He knows he should. At the very least, he should just tell you he wants space. You clearly feel something for him that he can’t for you, and you deserve to be let go. But the thought of not having you leaves a bitter taste in his mouth and a pit in his stomach. 
He grabs his wallet off of your nightstand and leaves without so much as a glance at you. As soon as you hear your front door slam, you let yourself fall apart. 
The next two weeks is sheer misery for the both of you. 
You hear nothing from Leon, and while it’s not unusual for him to be radio silent for days at a time, this is something else entirely. There’s a constant cloud of anxiety floating around you, and you find yourself checking your phone way too much. 
Leon knows he’s an asshole. His guilt overwhelms him, and it makes it almost impossible to focus on work. To focus on anything other than the image of you, teary eyed and half naked in bed after almost confessing your love to him. 
The words float around his head. He’s always had some feelings for you buried under the surface, but love? That’s such a stupid word. Such a big deal. Love feels like a cage to him, and the idea of being in love? It makes him sick. 
He grabs his phone and opens your contact. He types three words and then deletes them, and types them again, and then deletes them. He should just leave you alone. He’s done enough damage, and he knows if he talks to you again, he’ll have to actually acknowledge his feelings towards you. Towards what you said. 
You wish you could say you’re surprised when he shows up at your door at 3am, almost three weeks after the incident. 
You go to close the door in his face but he catches it with his hand and forces his way inside. 
His blue eyes are stormy and his soft hair is dishevelled. “I just want to talk.”
“I have nothing to say to you, Kennedy.” 
He sucks in a breath at your use of his last name. He’s always been Leon to you, or on some late drunken nights, Scott. This is nothing like those nights, and the warmth he feels at the memories of you are drowned out by the fear in his chest. 
Fear of losing you. Fear of those three fucking words that have been plaguing him for the past three weeks. 
“Please?” His voice is soft, pleading. You’ve never quite heard him like this. 
You keep your back turned to him. You’re not sure if you can even look at him right now, not without remembering how much of an idiot you are, how stupid you are for having these feelings for him. 
“I’m sorry just—look at me, please.”
You turn around impossibly slow, drawing your eyes up from the floor to meet his. He’s dressed casually—a black t-shirt and grey sweatpants, but he looks like a model. Even with his under eye bags and the frown on his face, he’s the prettiest man you’ve ever seen. 
Despite the fact that you’ve spent countless nights together, having his eyes on you still makes you flustered. 
“What were you going to say? That morning, I mean.” 
You fight the urge to raise your voice. “You know what I was going to say, Leon.”
He relaxes slightly when you use his first name. It’s not much, but it’s a start. “So say it now.” 
“I’m not going to say it. I can’t say it.”
“Why not?” 
“Because it’s you, Leon. It’s you and it’s me and god, it’s you. You’ll be out of the country before I even finish my sentence and I—I don’t want to deal with this right now.”
He takes a cautious step forward. “I’m not going anywhere.”
“You can’t just—ugh!” You tug on your hair, blinking back the tears that are threatening to form. “You can’t say that after you walked out on me.”
Leon stays quiet, stormy eyes fixated on you. He’s become something of an expert at reading body language, and he knows you well enough to know you’re about to cry. 
“You’ve spent the past few years insisting that we’re nothing more than what we already are. And now you’re sitting there, looking at me, expecting me to lose everything.”
Leon grabs your shoulders, looking at you seriously. “What do you think you’re going to lose, y/n?”
“You,” your voice is barely a whisper and you choke on the lump in your throat. “I’m going to lose you.”
“Y/n…”
You shake your head, salty tears rolling down your cheeks. You lean your forehead against his chest.
“It’s not fair,” you sob, hitting his chest with your fist. “I just—I can’t.”
Leon catches your wrists in his hand, holding them tightly. “You’re not going to lose me. I know what I said before, and I was wrong.”
You look up at him through teary lashes. You’ve never seen him this vulnerable before. He’s always been quiet and stern and withdrawn, and you’ve gotten used to his silence over the years. So to see him this vulnerable, this vocal….
“I,” he sucks in a breath, “I love you.”
His words echo in your head. It’s everything you’ve ever wanted to hear, and yet you don’t know what to say. 
“That doesn’t change anything.”
“I love you.”
“You’re still going to leave me in the mornings and you’re still going to hate commitment and—”
“Y/n,” he stops you before your thoughts can run wild. “I love you.”
Your heart speeds up at his words. There’s butterflies in your stomach, and for the first time in weeks, you don’t feel ashamed of your feelings. 
“Please say it back,” he practically whimpers. 
You step forwards and wrap your arms around his shoulders, letting your whole body weight fall into his arms. “I love you,” you mumble into his shoulder. 
He pets the back of your head and holds you as close as possible. Love has always seemed like a cage to him, but with you, he’s never felt more free. 
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floralpascal · 5 months
Text
Taking Care of You
Summary: You've been stressed out and working like crazy lately. John finally has enough and devises a plan to take care of you and make you forget all about your work.
Pairing: John Price x f!reader (no use of y/n)
Word Count: 2.9k
Rating: Explicit (18+ only, minors do not interact)
Warnings: stressed reader, kissing, fingering, oral sex (f receiving), unprotected p-in-v sex (you know the drill, wrap it y'all), orgasm denial, praise
A/N: This one goes out to all my stressed and busy babes out there! This is 100% self indulgent since I've been working day and night recently. We all need us some Price to take that stress away
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You knew that you had been distant for a while. Work had been piling up on you, responsibilities pressing in from all sides. It seemed like all you did was work, work, work these days. 
Your husband, John Price, was as supportive as he always was. He, of all people, understood that sometimes you just had to put your head down and get work done. When he was home with you, he always made sure that you ate and stayed hydrated. He limited your caffeine intake. He made sure you took breaks. In all, he was the most supportive, understanding man on the planet. 
…which was why his reaction now was so surprising. 
You saw him approach the makeshift office that you had set up at your kitchen table from over your laptop screen. In a soft, even voice he ordered, “Close the computer, love.”
Continuing to type, you spared him a questioning glance as you shook your head. “I just took a break like… an hour ago.”
“Three,” he corrected. “It’s almost eleven at night.”
You whipped your head up to look at the clock that hung on the wall behind him. Sure enough, he was right. Dread spread through you, your brain already kicking into crisis mode. “Shit. God, I’ve got to get this done.”
“It’ll be there tomorrow,” he countered. “You’ve been workin’ like mad all weekend long. I’m not gonna let you run yourself into the ground. So. Shut. The. Laptop.”
He stressed each word, and suddenly you felt what it must’ve been like to have John as a Captain, calm but commanding. Your eyes met his, your mouth open to fight him on the matter, but you found him ready for it, a testing eyebrow raised. It was rare that he would ever tell you what to do, but it always came when he was worried about you and trying to take care of you. Any time you had gotten a significant injury, he had made sure that you stuck to every word of the doctor’s orders. 
You huffed and leaned back, already sensing defeat. Instead, you tried to plead with him, “John, I won’t be able to sleep unless I get this done. I’ll just keep thinking about it.”
He put one hand on the table, leaned toward you, and pushed the laptop closed with the other hand. With his face barely a breath from yours and his eyes darkening, he rumbled, “I can fix that.”
Your body reacted to his sultry insinuation immediately, your heart rate jumping in an instant. You couldn’t help but drop your gaze to his lips for a moment before meeting his eyes again. “And how’s that?”
“I’ll make it so that you can barely even think anymore. I’ll wear you out so much you’ll fall asleep without even a thought about this,” he said, tapping the closed lid of your laptop. 
At times like this, you hated how easy it was for him to get you riled up. He knew exactly how to play you, exactly how to make his gravelly voice even more enticing, exactly what to say to get you squirming in your seat for him like you were now. 
You pressed your lips together, thinking for a moment. You couldn’t pretend that you didn’t want this. You were so tired of all the work and John knew exactly how to play you. But if he was going to have some fun, then so were you. With a provocative flit to your voice, you challenged, “Then prove it, Captain.”
For a moment, all he did was let a sultry smile pull at his lips. Then he was on you, his hands guiding you up from your chair and his lips finding yours. It was all fire and passion, but yet not too rushed. No, John never rushed this early. He loved to work you up slowly and leave you begging for him to just touch you already. He followed that playbook now, walking you backwards to press you up against the wall, his hand guarding your head from hitting it. 
As he tilted your head to give his lips access to your neck, he rasped against your burning skin, “Never too stressed to tease me, are you?”
Your breath hitched as he found the sensitive part of your neck, your hands clawing at his back and tangling in his short hair. After a moment, he moved back up to kiss you, his tongue dancing with yours for a long while. 
Eventually, his hands on your hips guided you to walk with him towards your shared bedroom. You took turns pulling at the other’s clothes, leaving a trail haphazardly in your wake. By the time you both passed through the doorway, John was only in his boxers and you in your plain black bra and panties. As he laid you back onto the bed, he eyed you as hungrily as he did when you wore lingerie for him. 
“D’ya know how fuckin’ sexy you are, love?” His hands pressed against your stomach before roaming up, up, up as slowly as possible. Your eyes fluttered shut as he ghosted his hands over your bra, arching shamelessly into his touch. Still drinking the sight of you in, he rasped, “Gotta take care of you. Gotta make sure I get rid of all that stress, all those worries.”
“John…” you whined, already needy and falling for his plan. One side of his mustache raised in a smile, clearly understanding that he already had you right how he wanted you. “Just touch me, please.”
John chuckled, giving your breasts a quick squeeze before placing a kiss just over your heart. “I am touchin’ you, baby.”
“Fuck, John, you know what I mean.”
He pressed the faintest of kisses up your chest and to your neck. Against the skin of your neck, he teased, “Maybe I don’t. Tell me. Use your words, love.”
Despite his insistence, he gave you no time to answer. Instead, his lips found the sensitive column of your neck, the touch no longer feather-light like it had been before. Now, he kissed and nipped with a passion that had you gasping beneath him. 
“Hhm? I didn’t catch that. Gotta speak up,” he mumbled next to your ear, the heavy timber of it sending shivers down your spine. But you could feel the curve of his lips against your soft skin, his beard prickling you as he did. 
“Don’t be a tease,” you grumbled halfheartedly. Even now, though, you couldn’t resist him. Giving in, you begged, “God, just fuck me, John.”
He made a sound of appreciation, deep and reverberating, the kind you could feel in your own chest. Leaning up over you, his icy blue eyes came to meet yours. “Now, was that really that hard?”
You rolled your eyes, suppressing your own smile as you grabbed his neck and leaned up to give him a bruising kiss. Returning the heat immediately, he dropped the act for a moment. Lips moving in tandem with yours, urgency lacing every movement, you felt him get lost in it. Surely enough, as he adjusted over top of you, you felt his hard-on graze your lower stomach. You chased him, hooking a leg over his hip to roll your hips against him. He groaned into your mouth, eyes squeezed shut. 
“So impatient today,” John chided. He pulled away and sat up, his hands coming to unhook and discard your bra on the floor. As he went to do the same with your underwear, you breathed a sigh of relief thinking that the torture of his teasing was finally over. 
Settling between your thighs, a man in heaven, he brought his mouth close to where you needed him. However, at the last second, his breath dusting your sensitive skin, he turned and brought his lips to the inside of your thigh instead. He still couldn’t hide his smile when you groaned in frustration. 
You were in for a hell of a ride. When he got in a teasing mood like this, there was no stopping him. 
Beard and mustache picking deliciously against you, he kissed up one thigh. Then, when he almost reached your center again, your breath hitching, he switched to the other thigh. There were some days when he did this that it felt like heaven — days when you were already losing yourself to the feel of him before he even got going. While you tried to conjure up that more present, more patient version of yourself, it didn’t seem possible now. You needed him so badly it ached. 
When your fingers found their way into his hair and gave him a light tug in the direction you needed him, he finally let you have your way. He hooked your legs over his shoulders, a small chuckle shaking the broad plane of his back. As he lowered his head, his hooded eyes meeting yours, he purred, “If tha’s really what you want, love. Have it your way.”
With that, he finally brought his tongue to you. Ever so slowly, he licked into you, drawing a gasp from your chest. Sliding his hands up from your hips to hold the sides of your stomach, his tongue made a twin journey up to your clit. He flicked his tongue a few times, slowly testing you.
Though it was all too slow for your liking, he steadily built up the pace. The scrape of his beard. The flick of his tongue. The reverb of his moan as you tugged on his strands. It was a delicious cycle, speeding up each time through. 
You let your head tip back into the pillow as you finally felt that tension in your stomach — a coil winding tighter and tighter. Your breath was ragged now, your legs already bracing around John’s head. 
“Yes,” you panted, eyes squeezed shut. “Just like that. I’m so- I’m so clo-”
Right as you were about to crest that hill, John pulled away all at once. Your orgasm dissipated like a wave against the beach — there one moment and gone the next. 
You whipped your head up to look at him, disbelief and righteous fury in your eyes. You were met only with a hungry, conniving smirk from the infuriatingly sexy man between your thighs. In this moment, even with his beard and the signs of age on his face, he didn’t seem a day older than the first time you had seen this smirk. The John Price that smirked in triumph at you now was the same as the John Price who had done it for the first time nearly a decade earlier. Had you not just had euphoria ripped away from you, you probably would’ve been more sentimental about this revelation. 
“Jonathan Price, I swear to god-”
You were cut off by another one of his chuckles. He licked his lips slowly, making sure you watched as he tasted you. “Still too stressed, love. Don’t think you’re ready yet.”
“You teasing asshole,” you huffed, but the edge was lost to it. 
It only made him smirk even more. “Fine,” he acquiesced, leaning back down. “Let’s try this again.”
At the same time that his mouth found your clit again, one of his hands traveled down to slip a finger into your dripping entrance. A small moan escaped you at the new sensation. As he started to build you back up again, his mouth and finger moving in tandem, you couldn’t help but forget his past transgressions. All that mattered now was the buildup leading to the big drop, the wonder that John could work between your thighs. 
Suddenly, he slipped a second finger into you, drawing a surprised whine from your lips. “Ohh… oh, fuck…”
He groaned in approval, the vibrations of his mouth against you only upping the unbearable pleasure. 
You were there again, so close to the edge that you could practically see it. Your body tensed in anticipation of the drop like a rollercoaster. It was just-
John pulled away again, shattering the buildup to your orgasm for the second time.
You let out a pained hybrid of a groan and a whine. Now, rather than annoyance coursing its way through you, all you had was desperation. “Fuck! John, please!”
“Hmmm, there we go,” he mused. “Now we’re gettin’ somewhere.”
“Please let me come, baby,” you pleaded. “I need it so bad.”
Pushing himself up, your heart sunk at the thought that he might keep teasing you and leave you hanging. Though he was never, ever one to leave you wanting, you were too far out of it to think straight anymore. All you knew was that you needed him and he was holding that just out of reach. 
Instead, he climbed up to lean over you. With a gentle hand, he cradled your jaw, making you look at him. Your slick glistened on his chin and beard. His pupils were blown wide, the icy blue of them nearly lost to it. With how much self control he had, his eyes and the tent in his boxers were the only indications that he was as affected by this as you were. 
“D’ya think you’re ready for me, beautiful? Think you can take me?”
You nodded immediately, still breathless. “Need you so bad, baby. Please. I can take it.”
He searched your eyes for a moment before nodding. “That’s my girl.”
Finally, he stripped off his boxers, revealing his red, leaking cock. You couldn’t stop the small whine you made at the sight, your need for him overriding any coherent thought.
John pushed into you in one swift stroke, drawing your nails to scrape across his back. The stretch was delicious, tearing you apart and soothing the insatiable ache in your core at the same time.
“Feel so fuckin’ perfect. So fuckin’ perfect for me,” he praised. If the feeling of him seated inside you wasn’t already enough to set you ablaze, his praise was. It always was. 
His arms came to rest by either side of your head as he leaned down and stole a heated kiss from your lips. Then, he drew himself slowly out of you before sharply driving back into you again. Your body shook with the force of it, forcing you to break from his lips as you let out the most lewd moan of the night. 
But, of course, that was just the beginning. John continued like that, fucking you harder with every quick snap of his hips until the only sound in your bedroom was the slap of skin on skin and both of your grunts and moans of pleasure.
“This what you needed, baby?” John asked, voice gravelly and breathy. “You needed to get fucked this good?”
Your voice caught in your throat, a strangled sound coming out in place of an affirmation.
He sped up his pace, his cock hitting so deep within you that you had to squeeze your eyes shut. He groaned, “My good girl. Always workin’ so bloody hard. You deserve this — deserve to just let me take care of you.”
Your pussy clenched around him at his praise, drawing groans from you both. You clawed at his back, searching for some sort of tether in the tidal wave of pleasure you were trapped in now. For the third time tonight, you could see the salvation of your orgasm on the horizon. Having been denied it so many times, its immensity and force was almost alarming. 
Though you were too lost in John to think clearly, you were able to gasp out one plea. “Don’t stop! Baby, don’t- don’t stop!”
Rhythm growing sloppy, John assured, “Not gonna stop this time. Been so fuckin’ good for me. Come for me, love.”
That’s all it took to have you falling apart on his cock, the tension in your stomach snapping in an overwhelming flood of euphoria. Breath catching in your chest as you rode out the high, John continued to fuck you through it, murmuring deep praises all the while. 
Just as you were coming back down to earth, your body finally feeling like it was yours again, John was nearing his high. 
“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” He groaned, head lowered by your ear. With a few more sloppy thrusts, he was burying himself to the hilt in you, his warm cum coating your walls. You gasped at the feeling as he ground his hips into yours a little.
Still propped on his arms, he sagged down over you, his breath ragged like yours. You dragged a hand up from his shoulder blade and into his hair, letting your fingers card through the soft strands as John came back to you and pulled out. Then, he lifted up enough to meet your gaze again. He took you in for a moment before leaning down and giving you one last heated kiss. 
The two of you clearly spent, he leaned his forehead against yours after he broke away. He brought a large, calloused hand to brush against your cheek. 
“You’re so bloody gorgeous,” he mused. “I love you.”
You smiled, leaning into his touch. “I love you.”
“Feelin’ better?”
“So much better,” you answered. The stress and pressure you had felt for days was gone now, replaced only with the feeling of John. For the first time in a long time, you truly felt relaxed. 
“I told you I could fix it,” he said triumphantly, wiggling an eyebrow at you.
After taking a moment to clean you both up, John crawled back into bed and shifted to spoon you from behind. With his strong arm over your stomach and your legs intertwined, you let him envelop you. As sleep slowly pulled you under, the only thought on your mind was him.
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