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satoruhour · 10 months

Text

GO!

a/n: racer jjk men …….. mmgfnghgn..gg.f.. if u can tell i’ve never watched f&f, you would be correct. i only watched tokyo drift for research 😭 also im talking out of my ass by using random car terminology !!!! i don’t even know whether anything i said was possible so just close one eye please :3

warnings: essentially car sex & pet names & unprotected sex for everything, fingering, clit stimulation, praise, public sex, geto listens in on a call, riding, implied p → v penetration, implied creampie / breeding, implied threesome w/ stsg (gojo), clit stimulation, handjob, semi-public sex, p → v penetration, doggy, geto asks and then takes a pic of you, creampie / breeding (geto), praise, oral (f receiving), fingering, pleasure dom nanami, squirting, clit stimulation (nanami), age gap (reader’s early 20s, toji is forty), oral (m receiving) while driving, facefucking, semi-public sex, clit stimulation, daddy kink, implied p → v penetration (toji), n*sfw under the cut

✶ GOJO

“my, my,” gojo smirks as he looks over to you in his 1999 Nissan Skyline R34 when your hand makes contact with his thigh, “couldn’t wait till we reached there?” on the way to the races that gojo loved to bring you to, it was a silent rule that gojo was one of the people that ruled the underground racing scene in tokyo — that means leaving his opponent sighing at the steering wheel and being the object of your kisses at the end of it.

gojo was talented, but he knew he wouldn’t sit well in the driver’s seat if he didn’t share the victory with you. the racer speeds at any opportunity, but today he takes the time to drive his baby just so he could have more time to fuck her.

sometimes gojo rubs off on you in terms of disposition, because you’ve become fairly good with composing yourself into times of tribulation with your constantly-horny boyfriend. your calmness could be commended, but your breaths still give off your aroused state, his fingers continuing to draw a faint line up your legs which are rubbing and squeezing against each other. even with the aircon on full blast, you still feel undeniably hot.

“so wet…” gojo hums as his hand feels the wet patch that’s pooling in your panties before slipping it to the side, driving unaffected while he keeps his eyes on the road. he’s fucked you so many times already, memorised the feel of your body that it doesn’t take him much to insert his fingers and find that sweet spot. you squeal, hands flying to grab at his forearm. your pussy clenches around his fingers, and it makes him hum, pushing him to adjust his pelvis in his seat. no doubt your cute sounds are affecting him.

“s-satoru! the race?” you panic and hope to distract his attention elsewhere, but gojo’s a master at multitasking.

“what’re you talking about? we’re on the way, princess.” he’s right, taking you through the familiar streets of shinjuku before switching to a lane that takes the car into an underground tunnel. it’s a route you can remember, but you hardly give a shit currently where you can feel your juices pool below you.

“sato—” you whine, your squeezing thighs doing nothing to deter him, “your s-seat’s getting soaked.”

“s’fine, i’ll clean it up later,” gojo grins, sparing you a quick glance where he likes you the most: lips parted with moans escaping, knuckles white from clutching onto the seat and your pussy leaking your juices all over his palm. “c’mon, you’re a good girl, aren’t you? don’t you want to cum?” gojo knows all of your habits, so he taunts you, teases you by slowing down his fingers just a little and plays with your clit. a ringtone doesn’t distract him, easily accepting the call from his phone on the dashboard.

there’s a soft on the way? from the caller, seemingly whispering into the phone like he was hiding from something and you’re struggling to keep from moaning too loud by keeping a hand to your mouth. you’re hyperfocused on your boyfriend’s fingers that you don’t exactly hear what they’re talking about, but you do faintly make it out to be geto on the other end. you’re so close that you might’ve left bruises on gojo’s forearm.

“satoru, you might wanna camp out in a nearby parking lot before comin’ over. officers are patrolling around the starting line.” it wasn’t weird for races to be pushed back, by engines malfunctioning, by police officers doing their nightly patrol but while the black-haired racer is just a little agitated at the delay, you’re surprised to see your boyfriend sporting a shit-eating smile.

“good, that just means i have more time,” gojo pauses to groan when you start to clench around his fingers. he knows you’re close and you want to fucking kill him when he easily reaches the spot that has you seeing stars, all the while having his best friend on the line, “to fuck my lovely girlfriend.”

“oh f-fuck… satoru! ’m cumming mmf…!” you don’t bother holding back on your mewls and whimpers, then, not exactly caring if geto hears cause he’s shared you with him before. gojo fingers you through your orgasm, your pupils blown wide and jaw dropping as you seek refuge in the hot pink seats gojo got for you while you continue to cry out his name.

within minutes, he’s pulling into an abandoned parking lot and swerving the car into a secluded spot before making use of the modification he made to his Skyline, reclining his driver’s seat (courtesy of your suggestion and he was driving off to the mechanic the next day) and beckoning you over with a smile.

you could only return his sly smile as he removes his pants, cock already hard and weeping from its tip from all the teasing he’s done to you, hard from knowing he’s the only one to get you moaning like a bitch in heat. and when you sink down easily, it’s like heaven on earth, the adrenaline giving the both of you a high.

it’s no surprise when gojo easily wins the race later, receiving you with open arms and a sloppy kiss, all while his cum’s leaking from your panties and your cunt still feels a little empty — so when you both receive a message from geto asking for a late-night drive with just the three of you, you’re quick to leave the scene to get stuffed full again.

✶ GETO

“suguru!” you smile as you enter the garage that’s housed suguru’s cars since he was a high school student, the familiar gold and black accents spread throughout the large space. he was lucky to have a father who’s a manufacturer, and despite the many engines and parts he’s gone through, it was a wonder his dad hasn’t exactly uncovered his rising fame in the tokyo racing scene, even if he comes home with some cuts and a roughed up car to match.

“hey princess,” he calls out, still focused on the minute parts of the 13B-REW engine and switching out his outdated intercooler for the Blitz, something that he had to persuade his father with with good grades and exemplary behaviour in his after school activities. “just making some changes to the Mazda. how’s my baby doin’— oh wow.”

your immediate reaction is to grin at him, heat blooming throughout your face as you descend the steps to where his vehicles were, sporting a cute little miniskirt and knee high boots. it’s not that you haven’t dressed like this before, but every time you do, it manages to make his breath hitch. that’s not the main attractive point today, though, eyes dropping to the fat of your thigh where a new tattoo had found its home — a black widow weaving chinese knots and it looks so damn good on you that your boyfriend wastes no time in removing the hood strut and slamming the hood close.

you don’t usually sit on his 1997 Veilside Mazda RX-7 much, but geto is determined to change that when you’re propped up like a doll on the sleek black design of the car, wandering hands slipping under your skirt as you’re humming into the deepening kiss. the other groans against your lips when he finds your clit, rubbing languid circles into it and you spread your legs further to accommodate his fingers, exposing your neck for his lips to suck on while his free hand gets busy with your perky tits.

“you’re so… fuckin’ wet,” geto mumbles into your neck, stifling your moans with yet another kiss. the way he’s rubbing at your bundle of nerves is so distinct, you couldn’t even replicate it if you tried, usually left dissatisfied after cumming on your own fingers. “my pretty angel.”

“yeah? you like me on your Mazda?” you say with a lilt to your voice, and although the pet names bring another wave of shyness and fire to your cheeks, your hands speak otherwise as they trail down his torso to the trousers he’s got on. it’s you against him to see who makes the other break first — geto moans when you fish out his dick, already semi-hard from all the teasing and your hand’s warm like how your pussy usually feels, stroking him in a pace that matches the hand on your clit.

“fucking love you on it,” geto laughs breathlessly, hot breath fanning against your lips and hips bucking into your palm, “love your hands on my cock, too.”

“ditto, baby,” you reply in a breathy whimper, but geto mutters something else along the lines of too bad i need my cock in you now before a surprised yelp leaves you when you’re flipped over suddenly. with hands flat on the hood and a knee propped up, he’s careful not to bring any discomfort to your new tattoo. bit by bit, he’s sheathing himself into your dripping cunt, pleas and obscenities flooding the spacious garage as you beg him to move.

your boyfriend’s a racer, ’course he knows how to do that, but he takes pride in teasing you, letting you feel every last bit of his dick as he bottoms out. “suguru… fuck me, please.”

“planning on it — shit, you’re so tight — let me enjoy your cute lil pussy for a bit, princess.” geto has both hands move down the expanse of your back, appreciating your attractive arch, and then then down to your ass and folds where he’s filling you with his fat cock. and when he starts to move, your mewls become incomprehensible and your fingers grasp at anything, but you’re afraid of scratching the smooth finishing of his Mazda, settling for holding onto his forearms.

“suguruuu… oh my g-god!” you love the way your obscene noises fill the space, juices flowing freely down your thighs as the other finds a steady pace. “right there— f-fuck…”

geto is no different, hypnotised with how his length disappears into your heat that he doesn’t notice your twitching body, but he still knows you’re close by how your clamp around him like a vice, pussy tightening up to make sure he gives you all his cum. by this time, you’re delirious from the squelching noises of your cunt and the slap of his hips into yours that your orgasm comes unexpectedly.

“cumming, cumming, suguru—!” your thighs shake and shiver through the euphoric feeling, still riding the wave of the orgasm before geto wraps his arms tight around your middle, mumbling confessions into your ears until he’s spilling deep into you, too. geto cums so much, and you moan at the feeling of being filled up, body slumping forward. between geto’s help and an aching question, you’re content to lay on the stunning car as he snaps a photo of you before cleaning you up.

it’s not until later when you’re at getting pounded again by him when you see his phone screen light up — the screensaver photo being the one of you on his car with legs pried open and cum spilling out your pretty pussy — that you know you’ve got geto wrapped around your finger.

✶ NANAMI

“mr. nanami?” your father calls out in the deserted shop, empty apart from the clang of metal against metal and the late night radio droning on about some love story sent in by a listener. despite how it’s almost 11 at night, your father was always happy to help with people’s cars due to a love for them since he was young.

even if that someone’s car was a 1968 Dodge Charger with a LS3 engine that he only knew the US had. when he comes around the back, he merely rubs his fingers together.

“this guy’s got money money,” you burst out laughing, landing a hit on your dad’s shoulder at his comment, but he wasn’t exactly wrong. looking out from the supply room, the man standing near the entrance of the shop looked exactly like the part: rich, tall, blonde, hot, and donning an annoyed look as he scolds someone named gojo who’s on the other line.

there’s a firm expression set into his features before he lunges forward at the sound of his surname and his pondering expression melts away to make way for a smile, and you swear you feel your knees buckle. but you have no time for daydreaming, also emerging from the room to collect money and complete the transaction like you usually do with clients.

“my daughter here will take your payment,” the older man nods his head toward you after explaining the changes he made to the engine, specifically the crankshaft which contained newer journals with older webs — this particular combination made the oil system faulty and rigid, and even for a tamer temper like nanami’s, it still irritated him to no end when the Dodge Charger wouldn’t start properly.

this would’ve been a piece of cake to solve, though, if it wasn’t for your dad’s japan-only parts, which function minutely different to american engines. so your dad had promised another day to fix nanami’s car after the parts had arrived, even refusing to accept nanami’s apologies and offers to pay for the america-based engine the first time he came to you guys.

it’s like the initial demeanour had faded, bowing profusely at the kind-hearted nature of your dad and he waves it off, passing it off as a passion that still burned strong within him; he only wrote a receipt for the repair of the engine, after all.

“collect the nice man’s payment and close up shop, okay?” your father places a kiss to your template and bids farewell to nanami as well who’s feeling still a little flustered, “i’ll head off to bed first.”

“thank you, truly,” nanami bowed again to you as he felt around for his card, producing a black card for you to process the transaction.

“it’s nothin’. dad’s usually like that, always so generous with his services and then blames it on his passion,” you laugh a little and nanami does too.

“i understand, tell him thank you again.”

you shoot him a thumbs up and a smile, handing him back his card with clammy palms and fidgety fingers. you both know you’re not exactly ready to say goodbye to this fine-ass man so you strike up conversation with a terribly stupid opener.

“so… you drive?”

“i would think so,” nanami chuckles as he makes his way over to his Dodge Charger, loving the way you almost want to dig yourself a hole from what you asked, “i race. actually.”

and you swear you can hear the pulse in your pussy quicken, swallowing a lump in your throat at the vision of being spread out on the hood of nanami’s car, blonde head of hair hidden between your legs.

you just didn’t know that vision would come true today; well — tomorrow, since one question led to a conversation past twelve, led to advances from the both of you and now you’re moaning out nanami’s name as your sensitive core is being devoured by the racer, kneeling at the front of his own car like the hood of his car is your throne.

you voice your concerns about being ate out so shamelessly with the garage door open, voice breaking as he eats and laps at your dripping cunt like a starved man, sucking hard on your clit as he plays with your hole, teasing his thick fingers around your entrance just enough for it to clench around nothing.

“it’s past 12, don’t worry your pretty little head about someone watching,” he reassures you, palms spread out against your stomach. “plus, you taste divine,” nanami groans from your core before he plunges a finger into you, causing you to jerk in shock at the intrusion — it’s so good you forget about your worries. “so tight too, shit.”

“nanami…” you drag out the last bits of his name in a whine, hips bucking up to take in more of his needy tongue and his replied hum sends vibrations throughout your body. you’re so wet that you’re able to take another finger. “just like that. oh my god, your t-tongue.” your hand naturally pulls at his blonde locks, pushing him deeper into your centre; he likes it, squeezing your ass in the process.

“can i cum, nanami?” you plead for it, the unexpected obedience has nanami reeling and he gives you the green light.

“’course you can, such a good girl, aren’t you?” the shop is filled with your moans and the dirty, sopping sounds of your pussy as he flicks his tongue, memorising the way your thighs clench around his head and how sweet you smell and taste. he’s definitely not letting this pussy go, “good girls get to cum.”

“i’m gonna— ooh shiitt…” nanami lets your hips go on their own accord and another groan from the racer is enough to have you cumming on his fingers and tongue, “fuuck, i’m cumming-!” he praises you like you’re his royalty while you gush all over him, squirting your release all over his face as he happily downs your juices like he’s done it before. he’s sure to do it again in the future.

“attagirl,” both the metal of his car and his affectionate names for you sends tremors throughout your body and legs, orgasming so hard you see white and it’s clear he enjoys giving head like his life depended on it.

you catch your breath briefly, brushing your fingers through his hair and admiring the sight before you until he returns to his intimidating and looming height, helping you to sit up and patting your thigh affectionately

“hope that’s enough payment for the parts. or would you prefer instalments instead?” he says the cheesy line with such a calm face you’d think he was in a business meeting, but the stoicism makes you stifle a giggle.

it’s not long before you’re returning your dad the money nanami had insisted on, but more importantly, being all dolled up in the passenger seat, his teasing hand on your thigh and a full pretty lace set underneath your miniskirt.

✶ TOJI

it’s not uncommon to find a veteran on the racing scene. fushiguro toji had his time of fame in the 80s, but now he’s back for more after fathering a whole child — something his close friends back then didn’t think he could do. it was an endearing sight, a large, burly man carrying something as precious as megumi but it didn’t halt his drifting trips on the mountains, taking his 1966 Chevrolet Corvette for a ride every time he needed to clear his mind; on a less safer note, megumi as a toddler was sometimes in the passenger seat.

megumi was already set to follow in his footsteps the moment he was born, showing a keen interest in cars more than robots or barbies (toji did buy one when megumi reached for a doll dressed in all black, though) and that only increased when he accompanied his dad on his drift trips, many times imagining himself in front of the wheel, gliding through the corners easily. even if the corvettes in the 60s weren’t exactly drifting material, he learned to do it perfect. plus, it still held memories for toji.

“who’s that?” your friend could hardly stop her jaw from hitting the floor after her comment, clearly a little flustered at seeing a forty year old stroll through the underground car parks like he owned the place. he did, 20 years ago, but his name seems to still precede him when hushed whispers and murmurs follow him. although he’s here to support his son’s first drifting race, he’s still fairly popular to be getting enquiries from curious mechanics and avid car enjoyers.

“megumi’s dad,” you grin with a hidden sense of satisfaction, because you didn’t just know him from afar. how his hips swayed when he walked or how he loved that stupid compression shirt, that was everyone’s perception of him, but you knew how his hips felt as it grinded against you. you always never fail to recall the raspiness of his voice against your ears as he mumbled the dirtiest things, only for you to hear. it’s why you revel in the way your friend’s jaw drop past the concrete into hell when the older man catches your eye (he always liked to look for you in crowds), and winks, prompting the gossip to only increase in volume.

“you’re in cahoots with megumi’s dad?” you didn’t care much if people suspected something going on between the two of you. even megumi didn’t exactly care, who was a few years younger than you in his last year of high school. he was content enough that his dad wasn’t alone after giving so much of him to raise megumi. anyway, you always had his trust fund to rely on and if anyone fucked you as good at toji did, you wouldn’t give two shits either way.

“hey doll,” toji’s grin matches yours, planting a sloppy kiss to your temple as you both wait at his Corvette, all roughed up from the race the day before. he hasn’t had time to fix it up, driving the familiar route to the mechanics before you sent him a text about how megumi’s got challenged to a race by some newbie at school — it was laughable so much so that it even prompted toji to use those emojis he hated so much.

it was a race worth seeing, especially if one of the contestants was the tokyo drifting king’s son. toji doesn’t need to say much, waving off megumi with a salute before the countdown begins like clockwork. the increasing revs of their engines draw you from your stupor, the newbie looking wrongfully excited despite the failure that’ll befall him in a few minutes. once go is signalled, they take off, giggling at you feel toji’s arm curl around your waist.

“he’ll win,” he’s as nonchalant as they come, but it rings true when he’s the one who had megumi going 15 rounds ’round the docks and mountains every week. with screeching tires, a RB26DETT engine and years of drifting lessons to back him up, megumi finishes the race first. he rolls his eyes when his friends and fans crowd his car like moths to a flame, but he can’t help shoot a wave to his father who smiles genuinely. it was unspoken that megumi was silently thanking him inside, before he drives off to celebrate the easy win.

“c’mon, baby. we’ve had our share. say goodbye like a good girl,” you pull your friend into a side hug who’s still barely able to wrap her head around the two of you, but she’s able to muster a brief goodbye before the rev of his Corvette draws eyes once again, speeding off into the night. it’s clear toji’s on a high from watching his son race and win, seeing it in the way he goes full throttle past shibuya square and down inokashira street with a laugh.

the fire in his eyes, the coy grin he’s got on reminds you of times you’ve experienced the feeling of toji deep in you, clutching onto the sheets on the tatami mats and face shoved into the pillow as he bullies his fat cock into you. the thoughts have you feeling up his thigh, and he doesn’t notice your wandering, needy hands until they come incredibly close to his cock. he shifts gears before grasping onto your wrist, shooting you a look of warning.

but you do anything but listen, rejoicing in your small victory when you feel the car slow down from his speeding spree so it’s safe for you. palming his bulge, you gasp at how hard he already is and he adjusts his lower half, clearly uncomfortable with his tightening pants.

“let me make you feel good, toji,” you mumble, hands fumbling with his belt and zipper before you pull his dick from his boxers, looking so pretty with its mushroom tip that leaks pre-cum. toji pulls lightly on your hair as a second warning before you’re able to twist your body to lean down, eyes flitting up to look at him in faux apology. “sorry, daddy.”

toji sighs once your mouth descends on his cock, eyebrows furrowed and hand squeezing your nape in pleasure. no matter how many times you get his length in his mouth, the size always catches you off guard and it causes you to choke when the car runs over a speedbump. you have to take a second to cough.

“sorry, babylove,” you wordlessly shake your head as a way to say it’s okay, because toji takes care of you without you needing to ask him; it’s only fair he deserves his own fair share of care too. “but your mouth— shit. feels so fuckin’ good on daddy’s cock.”

you suck in your cheeks and pump the places where your mouth can’t reach, sides already aching from the uncomfortable position but you continue to bob your head. toji’s groans and bucking hips has got you soaking your panties, spit and pre-cum dribbling down the sides of his length and you waste no time to lick a stripe to clean up, settling for circling your tongue around his tip.

toji moans out with a number of profanities and a fist tightly clenched around the steering wheel — your mouth is so soft and warm that he decides that he needs to pull over at a quiet parking lot behind a bar so he can focus on fucking your mouth and imagine it’s your tight pussy he’s plunging into, not that he has to imagine. your lips are still on him when the car halts and you feel more stable than ever, both hands pulling apart his thighs to take him deeper into your mouth.

“cock’s so big,” you babble and ramble like a little slut, slurping up your messy job with the help of your hands. just like your walls, the ridges along your mouth feel lovely and when his tip meets the back of your throat, he throws his head back. “need your cum down my throat…”

“yeah?” toji breathes out, hands tangling themselves in your hair before tapping your skull, a discussed rule for the two of you: two taps on your head when he wants to facefuck you, and two taps on his thigh if you can’t breathe. “i’ll have ta fuck your little whore mouth first, can daddy do that?”

you nod lazily, steadying yourself on the compartment housing the stick shift before his hips lift off the seat and he starts a pace that even he can’t keep up for long. one look at your cute doe eyes has got him whining and mumbling about how pretty you look right now, clutching on your head so hard that it has his knuckle turning white.

toji’s thighs are flexing and contracting from the movement, but you can point out when he starts to fumble and tremble at the mercy of your mouth. his thrusts are getting sporadic, just like how you’re reaching your limit, too, tears forming at the corners of your eyes. “g’nna cum down your throat, baby, ya want that?”

you sound a hum of agreement before toji’s hips still and he shoots his load down your throat, thick blobs of cum that spill from his tip, “that’s it, doll, take it all like a good slut,” and you swallow at least twice to get it all down. you show him a small amount of cum left on your tongue before he brings you up to kiss you harshly, giving your ass a firm smack and then you’re plopping down onto the seat again, wiping the side of your mouth like a good meal well devoured.

the wind is immediately knocked out of you as he brings up the speed with a hand inching towards your core, and you’re so glad he’s switched out his 327 small-block for a 427 V8 engine, the lampposts speeding past you and his fingers playing with your cunt enough to give you an adrenaline high to last throughout the night, cause toji’s far from done with you.

okay i digress. / pt. 2 here

4K notes · View notes

hannibals-favourite-meal · 3 months

Note

Can you do a Clark Kent, with a mate? Maybe she gets jealous of Lois but doesn’t know why; an to get over him she tries to go out with another guy but Clark is like no. Your mine.

.⋆｡Office Crushes｡⋆.

Alpha!Clark Kent x omega!plus size reader

Little bit of Bruce Wayne x plus size reader

Your best friend has an office crush that seems to be becoming something more, maybe you should get your own office romance but not because you’re jealous- obviously

Warnings: a/b/o, jealousy, mutual pining, idiots in love, little bit of angst, protective!clark, fluff

WC: 3.1k

Minors DNI

Library- @hannibals-favourite-meal-library

It was quite common for any office to have its workers develop a sort of infatuation with each other. A confined space where you spend upwards of 40 hours a week with the same people, feelings are destined to arise, especially when it’s such a large mixture of alphas, betas and omegas. Hormones tend to go wild.

You were proud that you had never developed an office crush, knowing how disastrous it could be if the relationship ended, but you doubted your best friend could say the same. Clark had a big heart that he always wore on his sleeve and tended to attract a lot of romantic interest from practically everyone in the office. And apparently, Lois Lane was the lucky one who finally caught his eye.

A strange churning in your stomach began as you looked over the wall of your cubicle and spotted Clark leaning on the small kitchen counter, head thrown back in laughter as Lois chuckled over her now full cup of coffee. You know you should have seen it from a mile away- they were constantly paired up for articles, their chemistry was unmatched and they were by far the most attractive people in the office. You had even teased Clark on occasion for how often he met up with her after hours for some new lead, calling them dates.

Evidently, you were right. And for some reason, it was really bothering you. You felt physical disgust as Clark bent down to whisper something into the smaller omega’s ear and down right nausea as she placed a hand onto his broad chest to steady herself.

You swallowed down the bitter emotions and forced yourself to return to editing your article though a sour taste remained on your tongue. Maybe it was finally time to get your own office crush and the perfect opportunity had just landed in your inbox.

‘Bruce Wayne Interview- I trust you’ll get this done professionally’. You bit your lip at the offer, not only would an interview with Gotham’s golden boy boost your career, but whenever you had encountered the alpha before, he had always asked you out and you had always brushed him off. It was a win-win for you, and maybe it would stop the inexplicable rage you felt when you looked up and saw the goofy grin on Clark’s face as he sat back down at his desk.

Your nose wrinkled as you caught Lois’s scent clinging to him. Your fingers flew across the keyboard as you quickly sent a response back to your boss, accepting the offer.

You just needed a distraction and then everything would go back to normal.

——————

The tension in the conference room at the top of Wayne Enterprise was so thick you swore you could cut it with a butter knife. You cleared your throat and tugged down your pencil skirt, over-aware of just how high it sat on your plump thighs as you reclined in one of the many expensive seats in the room.

Bruce’s eyes flicked down to where your hands were curled into the material of the skirt and then back to your eyes but not before stopping very briefly at your lips. “Mr Wayne-“ You began again, glancing at your notepad. The small talk had gone well as did the customary chit chat about any new scandal he happened to have instigated and the photos of the both of you for the article.

“Bruce please, I think we’re far beyond that now.” He winked and you swore that his tone held a bit of a teasing purr. Your stomach flipped at the blatant attention from the alpha but it quickly dropped as yet another wave of thick, bitter scent filled the room making you cringe away from the other man standing to the side.

Through a series of several unfortunate events, your usual photographer had fallen ill and his stand-in got hired from right under the company and left so the only person that even had the slightest bit of talent with a camera in the office was forced to come with you today for shots of the billionaire. And in the worst stroke of luck, that person happened to be the very man that ‘inspired’ you to take the job in the first place.

Clark shifted on his feet and you barely repressed an eye roll. He had been very vocal in his disapproval of the whole thing given how often the mogul had put the moves on you but none of his arguments had done anything to deter you, instead they only fuelled the fire.

Bruce’s jaw clenched and you watched in fascination as the muscles beneath his skin moved, although they were not nearly as impressive as Clark’s (you would never admit that out loud). “Well Bruce,” He beamed at you, “Wayne Enterprises has just introduced a new product line that promises to ease the severe heats often experienced by omegas, my question for you is, what about this product is so different from all others on the market that promise the same things yet all others have failed?”

The alpha leaned back in his seat, his muscular thighs spreading slightly, instantly drawing your gaze to the thick bulge that was perfectly hugged by the material of his pants. Your eyes immediately flicked back up to him but given the smirk on his lips, Bruce knew exactly what he was doing.

“I’m actually quite proud of my team for this, they’ve worked tirelessly on development for years and I believe that it really shows. While other products are usually prescribed by doctors in the forms of ointments and perfumes that mimic the scent of an alpha, which almost never work by the way, we have gone in a totally new direction. Instead, omegas can buy these pouches at any pharmacy and when heated, they give off the scent of a pup.” Bruce gestured to the small bags that were barely the size of your palm that sat on the table next to him. They gave the appearance of a miniature version of a microwavable heat pack but he was right, if you concentrated hard enough, you could smell the mixture of milk and flowers that all babies had.

“It is common knowledge that the presence of pups actually help to lessen the effects of a heat whereas the scent of an alpha is far more complex to manufacture and can actually make an omega’s heat worse if they don’t have any other-“ he paused then, his smirk growing as the room seemed to grow smaller, “-tools to help them through it.” You barely suppressed a squeak and quickly ducked your head as if you were checking your notes once more.

You gathered yourself for a moment then spoke again, missing the way that Clark was glaring at the other alpha over your shoulder. “And how affordable are these products?”

“Wayne Enterprises are donating 2 million to women’s shelters throughout Gotham and we plan to sell them for less than $10.” As if anticipating your next question, Bruce licked his lips and continued. “While it is not feasible to gain a profit from such a low price, I would rather give them away to the people that need it but I do have a board that I have to listen to… sometimes.” He winked at you.

Heat crawled up your neck and settled onto your full cheeks. You squeezed your thighs together though you weren’t quite sure if it was because you were attempting to feign arousal or keep him from looking up your skirt. You laid a hand onto your notebook, shutting off your recorder, as you leaned forwards and offered him your other one. “Thank you for being so open to this interview, you have been a hard man to pin down.”

You could feel the way Clark’s body seized as Bruce’s smirk grew and his eyes twinkled deviously. “If it’s by you miss Y/L/N, I would gladly be pinned down any time.” He shook your hand with a firm grip, letting the tips of his fingers brush against your wrist. “For an interview that is.”

He rose to his feet and politely helped you to yours, steadying you with a hand on your waist as you wobbled on your heels. Once he was sure that you were steady, he ducked down and grabbed one of the unopened boxes of Heat Helpers (quite the cheesy name in your opinion) and gave it to you, along with a small piece of cardstock. “Why don’t you take this, a thank you for a great conversation.”

You flipped over the piece of paper to reveal a phone number scrawled on in pen. You gave him a questioning look to which he chuckled. “My number, if you ever want to have a one-on-one with me, with or without the tape recorder.”

You swallowed thickly and stuttered out some kind of polite response before Clark ushered you out of the room, muttering under his breath about being in a time crunch. You were barely able to catch one last, “Anytime miss Y/L/N” before the heavy door slammed shut and you were quite literally pushed into the awaiting elevator by your friend.

As soon as the doors were shut, you were on him. “What was that all about?” You crossed your arms over your chest and gave him a scrutinising look. Clark refused to make eye contact with you, instead he stared at the elevator doors like he was willing them to open.

“He was flirting with you.” You rolled your eyes and looked away from the tall alpha. “And you let him.”

“So what? He’s attractive and available, as am I. It was only natural.” Clark’s shoulders tensed, his grip on his camera tightening until his knuckles turned white. The confined space was now filled with a bitter scent that made your stomach drop and your omega howl in displeasure.

“Why are you so concerned about this, Clark?”

The elevator doors opened with a ping and he quickly walked out. “It’s nothing.” He said and you knew you weren’t going to get anything else out of him until he decided he was done throwing a tantrum.

——————

“So have you called him?” Lois was leaning against the bar next to you, her drink half empty but the flush on her cheeks told you that it wasn’t the first one of the night.

“Called who?” She rolled her eyes like it was obvious.

“Bruce Wayne! He obviously wants you too, I saw the photos Clark took. He’s fucking—what’s the word— enamoured!” You scoff behind your tumbler of whiskey which you had been nursing since Perry gave it to you an hour ago. The whole office had gathered at the bar down the road for an end-of-workweek drink and against your better judgement, you had decided to join.

Clark had been convinced into joining a game of pool, leaving you without anyone to talk to but it’s not like he would anyway. For some stupid reason, the alpha had been giving you the silent treatment for days and it was really starting to piss you off. You regarded Lois with a look but she was far too tipsy to get it.

“He was just flirting, he does it with everybody.” You dismissed it but she scoffed.

“Then why did he ask Perry for your personal number?” Your head snapped up, your eyes wide. “Clark didn’t tell you?” Evidently, your wide open mouth and lack of a verbal response told her everything she needed to know. Suddenly, Lois was very sober, a serious expression on her face.

“We were in a meeting with Perry the day after the interview and Wayne just strolled in like he fucking owned the place. He said how great you were and that he was hoping to get your number for a follow-up interview sometime soon. Clark said he would handle it, I assumed that he would have talked to you.” Her gaze travelled over to said man. “Shit I guess he didn’t.”

You slammed back the rest of your drink and without any sort of conscious thought, stormed over to the group of men huddled around the pool table. “Where the fuck do you get off Kent?” You snarled. Immediately all of the men seemed to find their phones incredibly interesting.

“I’m sorry?” He asked in that way too polite way he did that really meant ‘what the fuck is the matter with you’ but you were having none of it.

“Why didn’t you tell me Bruce asked for my number?”

“There’s a lot of Bruces in the world, you’ll have to be more specific.” He dismissed.

Anger flared in your gut. “You know exactly what I’m fucking talking about.” You snarled, making Clark stand up straight and meet your eyes. In the dim light of the bar, his expression was far darker than you had ever seen before as aggravation rolled off of his powerful body in waves. “You had no right to keep something like that from me!”

“I had every right! He was just going to use you and then never talk to you again! I was protecting you!”

“I didn’t ask you to!” The bar went completely silent as Clark visibly flinched but you were far too upset to care. “You know what, I’m done.” You raised your hands in surrender as you turned and pushed through the stunned crowd, your anger slowly trickling away into sadness.

The night air was like a punch in the gut but it also eased the tenseness in your shoulders. Taking a deep breath, you willed yourself not to cry. It wasn’t like you were in love with Bruce, but even if you were, Clark’s blatant disapproval of him and his distrust in your decisions made you feel incredibly small. And it was breaking your heart.

He was your best friend, he was supposed to be supportive if not a little teasing about your choice in men. He was supposed to console you when things went wrong, not say ‘I told you so’. Why did he get to control your love life while you could only sit back and watch him fall in love with someone else?

Your feet carried you further and further from the bar as the urge to sob was quickly becoming overwhelming. “Y/N!” You turned in time to see Clark throw open the door, the light from inside spilling out onto the street as he endeavoured to chase you.

“Leave me alone!” You cried or at least tried to, but then suddenly, the air was knocked from your lungs and you were looking up at the stars.

The shrill screech of a speeding car came from somewhere on your left as bright headlights illuminated the mass of a man above you before the sound was in the distance and darkness folded over you both. His weight kept you pinned to the slightly damp grass and you had the vague thought that you must be in a park of some kind, even though just a second ago you were standing on a sidewalk- or was it the street?

“Are you okay?” That was Clark’s voice but he had been so far away from you. “Omega?” He sounded distressed and for the life of you, you couldn’t figure out why.

“Say something!” His huge hands were planted by your head and it was only when one of them cupped your cheek did you find your voice again.

“Clark?” His whole body sagged with relief and he let his forehead rest against yours.

“Thank god. I thought I didn’t get to you in time. The car came out of nowhere and you were so close.” You turned your head away from him, your eyes focusing on the bar… that was across the street… a block away. The glint of something in the grass catches your attention, Clark’s glasses.

He looked so different without them and all your confused mind could think was just how blue his eyes were when they were unobscured by the glass.

His button up shirt which was normally so perfectly done up was unbuttoned, exposing the tight material of something navy beneath. “What?” But you couldn’t get out anymore, not when he shifted his weight, exposing even more of what was covered by his shirt and you were stunned into silence.

The red ’S’ practically glowed as realisation dawned into you. His brows scrunched in confusion, following your gaze. “I- I can explain.” Your head spun as he yanked you to your feet, though his hands never left your skin like he needed the reassurance that you were still there.

“I was going to tell you but then I realised how much danger it would put you in and if you were hurt in any way because of me, I couldn’t even stand the thought. And then we had known each other for months and Lois said you would feel betrayed so I kept it a secret-“ You placed an open palm onto his chest, stopping him in his tracks. His mouth snapped shut with a click.

“Is this why you were acting so weird about Bruce? You thought he would hurt me because of you?” Your voice wobbled with emotions as your nails dug into his warm peck.

Clark’s growl was shocking in its intensity. The vibrations shot up your arm as the ground shook beneath your feet with its power. “No, he would never even dare to fucking touch you. He knows who you belong to.” Your heart skipped a beat, this possessiveness was nothing you had ever seen from the soft-spoken reporter before. You knew that you should find it disgusting considering how he had been treating you but instead your veins filled with warmth.

“And who is it that I belong to? There’s no claiming mark on my neck.” His grip on your hips tightened which should have been a warning but the anger was quickly returning now that the foggy haze of danger had passed. “If I can remember correctly, you’ve been courting Lois, not me.”

“I’ve been asking her for advice on how to ask you out!” He said, exasperated. “I just couldn't find the perfect time to do it.”

“You’re an idiot.” You retorted before grabbing his black curls in a tight grip and yanking his mouth to yours. His body tensed but then quickly melted into you, groaning against your lips.

Maybe you did have an office crush but it’s not like you’d actually admit it.

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thekitsunesiren · 7 months

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Dc x Dp #38

Daniel Fenton is an intern at the Daily Planet. And so far, he's been doing a very good job at gaining stories.

He's quiet, so it's easy for him to sneak away or up on a person. Clark didn't hear him the first time they met and he feared that the kid was trained in someway.

He's also very intimidating. While he seems like a regular teen with his relaxed and joking personality, there's something eerie about him. Having those piercing blue eyes on you could make anyone nervous.

He's also really fast with getting information. Clark knew that one of his first stories was on a man who died in the latest rogue attack for having some sort of ties with a new ring arising. The very next day, he had several pages filled with information that not even Clark could find out.

Daniel Fenton was quickly making his way up in the world of reporting. And many shivered at what kind of problem he could become if teamed up with Lois Lane.

#dc x dp #dp x dc #dpxdc #dp x dc crossover #dc×dp prompt #danny phantom crossover #dp x dc prompt #dp crossover

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bet-on-me-13 · 8 days

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Supers and Bats

So! Jazz, Danny, Dan, and Ellie are adopted by Clark Kent and Lois Lane after bouncing around the System for a while.

Jazz couldn't legally take care them because she's just an 18 yr old in College and couldn't provide for two 16 yr Olds and a 12 yr Old on her own.

(Dan is in his Post-AGIT Body, so he looks like Danny's Twin Brother, and Ellie is still 12 because she hasn't started Aging yet.)

Anyways, eventually the Fenton Family opens up about their Powers and are accepted into the Super Family. They even Begin acting as Heroes for Metropolis, taking on their own Super names. Like Superkid, Supergal, and Superguy, all lazy but funny names that fit the Family Naming Convention.

And you know the Rule, if you are a Super, you will inevitably end up with your very own Bat.

Obviously Clark adopted Bruce as his Bat. They were the originals, the OG's, they set the precedent.

Kon adopted Tim as his Bat while on YJ, or maybe or was the other way around? They both don't know, since they were both absolutely Messes when they were on that Team. It really could have gone either way.

Jon and Damien have been eachothers Bat/Super since the Day they met. Let's even say Jon never got stuck in that Time Paradox and stays the same age (a gift from peepaw Clocky)

Barbara actually gets Jazz. She's not exactly as Super as the rest of her Family and Adopted Family, but she he up there. And she constantly studies for her Classes at Barbara's Library, so they get to hang out a lot and bond over having to take care of their respective Families.

Danny and Duke get along well, and decide that Danny is now his Super. They started hanging out when Danny decided to become the 2nd Day Shift Hero of Gotham on a whim, cause why is Duke the only one? He splits his time between Metropolis and Gotham but as a Super it's not an inconvenience. They like Joking with eachother on patrol.

Surprisingly Dan and Dick get along very well. Dick used to be extremely Agressive and Violent, and can relate to Dan who has recently begun trying to ugnore his more extreme reactions. They bond over the feeling of not being understood as kids and their shared "Extremely Repressed Anger" emotions. (Dick doesn't have dad instincts shut up jason)

Cass and Steph take one look at "Still a 12 yr old Chaos Gremlin" Ellie and decide that she is theirs now. It's okay, they can share! They absolutely love their brand new Little Sister, and let her be the biggest of Gremlins!

Most people forget but Jason has Bizzaro as his Super, while he is on the Outlaws. Once Ellie hears about Bizzaro's situation, she helps stabilize him using some of Vlad's old Tech. So Bizzaro gets to live in this! Yay!

That's the idea, thoughts?

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nouearth · 8 months

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blue current.

clark kent x male reader headcanons.

warnings: fluff, co-workers at the daily planet, maws!clark, soft!clark, intern!reader.

a/n: it's been a hot minute since i've written anything! i feel so bad because i've been swamped with school, so hopefully this will hold you guys over until i post my next fic! it's not much, but i've been feeling fluffy as of recent, and clark is the perfect candidate, HAHA. idk, i've been feeing low-key creatively stuck for writing, so hopefully this well get me out of the slump!

gif credits to: fukutomichi!

—clark was smitten from the moment he first laid eyes on you.

—it had only been the fourth month into his internship, but it was no secret that the higher-ups, and even his colleagues, have been impressed by clark's rapid growth.

—it was enough to ensure their trust in clark to train the new intern as the lead journalist had taken a month off for vacation. while he had his doubts if he would do a good job, clark always loved challenging himself.

—his mother had always reminded him: one who feared failure will never achieve greatness.

—sure, you weren't being mentored by the best journalist in the city. though, you had to admit that you felt defeated since miss lane was the only reason why you chose the daily planet over other internships.

—but bitterness turned to throat-drying, cheek-flushing, and hand-flexing sweetness when you came in your first day and met the man who would be training you.

—for clark, it was the drowsiness in your gaze that suddenly brightened when he met your eyes. if he could have seen his own face, clark would reckon that his eyes lit up the same way yours did upon meeting you for the first time.

—he's so... handsome. maybe training him wouldn't be so bad after all...

—his blue eyes sucked you in like heavy ocean current, but instead of fighting back the pull like any sane person would, you allowed him to drown you in the gorgeous wash his gaze doted on you with.

—god, are you toying with me right now? have you finally come around to my reckless behavior back in high school? i knew you always would!

—it began with a handshake. when clark's large hand cupped into yours, a current of sparks flickered from the bone of your knuckles to his own, and you both released with a gasp.

—"sorry! it must be my vest or something—has a lot of... cotton, i think—" clark assured with a laugh, but cursed his lame excuse in between breaths.

—"no, you're fine! i guess your sweater vest knew i was half-asleep, huh?" you laughed with him, and almost as if it was choreographed, you reached back to rub at your nape when he does, and the discomfort left the collective laughter in a fleeting dance.

—"well, lucky for you, our first stop is the break room! i'll show you how to make a poor man's mocha if you get sick of the coffee here!"

—from then on, you two had quickly become close friends.

—where clark would teach you more hacks to spice up an ordinary roast of coffee, you would return the favor by surprising him on random days with lunch that you prepared the night before.

—on nights where you were too tired to function, you simply settled for sandwiches and prepared an extra meal for clark.

—whether he claimed he forgot his lunch, or was too busy to even take a glance at his lunchbox; eating lunch had become a rarity for him.

—unless it was with you.

—even before opening the brown paper bag, clark knew it was going to be delicious.

—you always remembered what ingredients he liked and disliked since the first time you had lunch with him.

—clark smiled to himself as he ate the meal you didn't have to prepare for him in big bites.

—and then laughed when you watched in amazement and mirrored him like a parrot with messy bites.

—somehow, the thought of cared for was more filling than the actual meal.

—in moments where clark suddenly felt guilt for liking you as more than a friend, he sat silently, staring blankly ahead, with the tissue crumpled in his hands.

—and you sat beside him on the bench, compelled by his silence, while the birds watched from their home of oak and birch.

—it had been happening more frequently: clark's sudden mood shift. no matter how much he tried to deny it, how much he attempted to pacify your silent worries with his handsome smile, it was clear that something was bothering him.

—at first, you tried to break him with a joke.

—"geez, was my sandwich that bad?! i guess i shouldn't have used that expired mustard..."

—you've studied clark enough to anticipate a half-hearted chuckle from him; weak, but still had the intention to please. to masquerade his thoughts.

—instead, the birds chirped in his absence, and your frown only deepened as clark maintained a fixed gaze to the pavement.

—"clark?" you nudged him once on the arm, and he immediately dropped his head in between his legs with a heavy sigh.

—"what's wrong?"

—"there'ssomethingigottatellyou..." he muttered into the crook of his elbow, and your brows knitted together in worry, despite your amusement at the fact that he was behaving similarly to a puppy throwing a tantrum.

—"huh? didn't quite catch that when your mouth is full of linen." you gently nudged him once more to vacant the space between his legs, then another with a gentler squeeze to his arm when he doesn't.

—"clark, come on. talk to me." you squeezed harder to the sound of his groans. "people are staring—"

—then another squeeze.

—"there's something..."

—and another.

—"i gotta tell you..."

—and before you could alert him once more, clark returned the pressure into your own palm when he suddenly took your hand into his, and held it as if it was a pirate's lost treasure.

—the warmth of your skin compelled him to sit back up, but he refused to look at you. instead, he gazed every perimeter that didn't involve your eyes.

—the birds again, the sky, the trees, anything to drown out the sight of potential rejection.

—but how you wished he would turn to you right now, because you smiled. wide enough to sting the apple of your cheeks, and as much as you wanted to yell out his name for him to do so, you wanted to let clark do it for himself.

—to take upon the challenge of potentially meeting failure or success.

—heat crept onto his cheeks as he stared at a couple who were charmed by chubby ducks floating on the nearby lake. for a brief moment, he could see you two walking hand-in-hand, while the other free hand threw feed at the eager ducks.

—he was lost in his imagination. a blink turned into a dream, and a dream turned into a desperate paradise.

—it wasn't until the trail of your hand that looped your fingers into his, tightly sharing the warmth of anxiousness with a sticky clamp, that clark opened his eyes again and finally turned to you.

—wet eyes and shaking blues, they told a story that you didn't need to read into.

—silence filled the space between the two of you, then groaned in annoyance when you scooted closer until your knee was pressed to clark's. you folded his hand into yours, still clutching onto him tightly, and laid the joined affection on your lap.

—"i like you too, smallville." your thumb ran several laps over his knuckles to calm the tremors clark had possessed.

—he watched, open-mouthed as if he was about to respond, but the shock trapped the remainder of his words within his throat.

—you lounged back and squinted at the radiance of the sun, the brights of the sky.

—"(m/n)..."

—the sunlight faded into the background as the beauty of your best friend came into frame once again. he absorbed all the color and light of the world until your focus was on him.

—"i really like you."

—the sigh on his lips told a different tale compared to the previous exhales. it curled his lips upwards and finally pacified the shakes that had been bothering clark for months.

—when he pressed his palm back into yours, folding his fingers over your own, you braced for impact as you felt the electrical current from the first day you met him return in stronger pulses. it nipped at your skin, then at clark's, in its desperate escape.

—but clark held tighter, as did you, until the shockwaves melted in his skin, into his veins, then into his blood, and became one with the victorious cheer of his heart.

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azlrse · 1 year

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➳ wally's biggest crush (wally darling x gn!puppet!reader omeshot)

synopsis: even though he's married, his crush on his spouse still retains as he went through a memory lane of how he first met the love of his life

cw: none, just some fluff

a/n: new hyperfixation goes woopp (also inspired from a reddit post) and also, i've added a last name on reader's name to make it more sense

He couldn't just get enough of you. As he continuously sat down on the comfortable armchair that he seems to be fond of while watching you in home's kitchen, making something that smelled absolutely delicious. Maybe it's cookies? Or perhaps a mouth watering baked pie that most of his neighbors loved? He just didn't know on what you are making. Afterall, he is the kind of guy who loved surprises from the love of his life;

(y/n) Darling, or Mx. Darling is what the neighbors called them.

Their generosity and patience towards others is exactly why Wally not only made him curious about you but also didn't expect are the main reasons why he fell hard for you and it all started when he first saw you moving into the neighborhood and greeted the other neighbors with enthusiasm and respect, even offering some of your baked goods as a token of friendship. Wally watched you with curiosity as you loved from different shops to houses until you reached his house. In response, home released a variety of sounds, indicating that it welcomes you into its walls.

The poor puppet's seemed to be a bit shy upon meeting the new neighbor, especially someone as beautiful/handsome as you. 'You can do this, Wally.' he thought to himself, fixing his hair and dusting off his attire. 'Just say hi and welcome them in this neighborhood. Yeah, that should be easy, you can do thi–' When he opens the door, Wally becomes paralyzed and stood as still as possible when his eyes met yours. He could describe you as someone who's soft, welcoming and sweet as sugar. He doesn't even lie that your aura alone makes him warm on the inside.

"Hello there, I'm-"

His mind went blank, doesn't know what to do next and instead, he slammed the door in front of your face.

The way you didn't get mad nor acted cold at him when he first slammed the door in front of your face. You just stood there in confusion, still a tray of cupcakes on your hand as you knocked once again on his door and heard Home's squeaking in retribution and disappointment towards Wally.

squeak!!

bang!

"Ow!!" Wally reacted from the fallen book, hitting his head. "You don't have to do this Home. I have already embarrassed myself in front of them." Onomatopoeic sounds can be heard from the building, threatening the homeowner that it will take drastic measures to get him out from its walls. "Fine fine, you don't have to be harsh, sheesh Home." Finally, Wally got out from his house.

"Um, I am so sorry for the commotion happened here..." He spoke as his eyes glued on the trees above and stared back at your (e/c) eyes. "And about the slamming that door on your face...." In response, you chuckled and gave him a warm smile. "It's fine, don't worry about that. I understand that it was unexpected of you to meet someone new who just moved in this neighborhood today." You replied and silence looms around as Wally continuously stares at you.

"Oh! I wanna give you these cupcakes. They're newly backed and I hope you liked it."

"Thank you new neighbor, that's kinda sweet of you to bake these. I'm Wally by the way, Wally Darling." A smile appeared on his face, taking the cupcakes off your hands. "I'm (y/n) von Sweets!" Grabbing his hand and shaking it, Wally couldn't resist the heat creeping up into his cheeks. Your hands are so soft and warm, just like a newly baked bread from the bakery. "I better head back from my shop that's recently opened, I'll see you around then, Wally." You spoke, waving him good bye as you went your merry way towards the yellow brick road of the neighborhood.

Still standing as still as possible, Wally didn't move from his spot. He just continuously stares at you, up until you disappeared from his point of view and still wondering when he will meet you again. Maybe tomorrow perhaps he will visit you in your bakery while bringing a bouquet of flowers as a token of his friendly gesture to you.

Wally closed the door, now staring at the colorful tray of cupcakes in his hands. "Gosh, ain't they the sweetest, Home?" It squeaked in return. "Such a lovely neighbor, maybe I'll visit them tomorrow." He sighs dreamily, taking a bite of the cupcake and couldn't get enough of the tarty and fruity taste of your baked good.

. ·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .

"Watcha thinking there, sweetheart?" His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of your voice. The smell of his favorite baked pastry begin of consume Home's 4 corners of its walls. "Just the time where I first met you, my darling. I just think to myself; how am I this lucky to be your husband. Me, an ordinary painter?" You giggled, giving him a plate of a sliced apple pie on his hands. "Even after you married me, you still have the biggest crush on me. When will that go away?" You teasingly asked. Wally placed his plate on the coffee table and wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you into his lap.

You see how his pupils has changed into little hearts. "Never, my love. I am contented of being in love and having a crush on you." You continuously kissed his face, from his eyes to cheeks and finally his favorite part, his lips. The both of you let out a big 'mwah' while kissing each other. The painter felt himself being more and more deeply in love with you as you gave him more of your attention and love.

"I love you, sweetheart. Thank you for being the man of my dreams." You sighed lovingly, now placing your head on his neck. Your husband just looks at you with adoration as he places a kiss on your forehead. "I love you too, my darling. My dearest, dearest darling."

Do not republish, edit, or repost to other websites.

Reblogs and likes are appreciated! 💕

#welcome home #welcome home x reader #welcome home x you #welcome home x y/n #wally darling #wally darling x reader #wally darling x you #wally darling x y/n #welcome home arg #welcome home fluff

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tangerinesilk · 8 months

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－ DISTRACTION : DAVE LIZEWSKI

dave was a great study buddy, but there's no doubt he was a distraction. he constantly made you turn your head twice at whatever he said or did whether it was some comic book character he rambled about or how his pale blue eyes shined under the warm lighting of his desk lamp.

pairing ✷ college!dave lizewski x college!fem!reader

rating ✷ r (18+ minors dni!)

tropes ✷ friends with benefits, spicy but no / little plot, unspoken love, domestic toward eachother but no dating, dorky and awkward people in love who just wont admit it theyre in love (sort of) | nsfw warnings below!

word count ✷ 1.7k

a/n ✷ um this was a random thought and it just sort of happened. stg it feels like i blacked out while writing this KSKFFKS what is going on with me. anyways been wanting to write about this cute dork for a while and why not make it really hot. posting now so i dont chicken out but ill edit later.... i always love feedback! xo

[ steamy warnings: mentions of public sex, dom & sub switches, p in v without protection, nipple play, hj + bj, f receiving oral from m, praising + heavy dirty talk, face sitting, finishing inside v ]

typical weekends: saturday night at dave's apartment.

dave was explaining something... it was something. something important, but all you could focus on was his pretty eyes and how soft his lips looked today. he pushed his glasses up more on his nose bridge again, looking down at his book for one of his college classes.

he was so into the subject, you didn't even have to nod. you were occasionally tapping the eraser end of your pencil against your blank notebook, only listening to every other word.

suddenly, your mind wanders to when you two were doing laundry at three in the morning and got a little spontaneous. then getting a bit handsy on the top floor of the library where no one usually was. maybe even the time when you were visiting him back home for one weekend and you both could barely keep it together with company downstairs.

ever since you both agreed on this friends with benefits agreement, your dry spells were no longer an issue. it seemed like both of you were touched starved, but not wanting to meet other people, strangers you didnt want or need to know.

so, after becoming lab partners in your fall semester of senior year, its been nonstop seeing each other. not just for sex, but hanging out to study, going to local comic book stores and libraries, even the occasional dinner and sleepover combo at his apartment or yours.

it seemed like a wild card at first, but you would never admit (outloud) to dave lizewski that you underestimated how great his tongue felt inside your pus—

"y/n, are you even listening?"

you cleared your throat, "hmm?"

he chuckled, "so you weren't... i know, its kind of boring."

now you felt bad, caught up from going down memory lane and he was excited about his new class.

you ran your hand over his curls, "im sorry, dave. my mind was wandering."

he turned, seeming interested, "about what?"

you felt the heat rise to your cheeks, "about... you know..." you trailed then shrugged, "stuff."

dave smiled, "oh yeah? you weren't, i dont know, thinking about me?"

you had seen this confidence grow inside dave as more time passed, and you weren't sure if it was cockiness, but you couldn't deny how cute yet attractive it was on him.

"why dont you go back to what you were rambling about? please. im all ears now." you lean in, placing your hands underneath your chin with your elbows on his desk.

its ironic how his full size bed was behind the two of you yet here you are, acting like this was the first time you've hung out.

he pressed wet kisses against your inner thighs, your clit aching for his mouth as his nose brushed against your skin. he'd let out a nervous chuckle as he noticed the wet spot forming on the center of your panties. you'd bite your bottom lip as he licked his lips, in awe of the mess you were for him.

dave pulled down your panties, shuffling them down your ankles before tossing them to the side. his strong hands run up the top of your thighs before holding your hips, pulling your core closing to his mouth. after his first, yet hesitant, kiss on your clit, you let out a faint moan.

soon his tongue was running over your open slit and tasting your sweet wetness. you arched your back, leaning back on his desk as he flicked your clit a few times. when he pushes his tongue inside you, a rush of heat runs over your entire body. you caress your own breasts and pull at your own nipples as he picks up his pace.

"fuck... god, yes. eat my fucking pussy." you whimpered. he got so weak when you uttered your sweet nothings. as dominant as he thought he presented himself, dave was a sucker for you.

just when you thought it couldn't get better, he slide his two fingers into your slit as his tongue flicks your swollen clit. you told him how you love when he curled his fingers inside you, knuckle deep and gathering your wetness every pump as he brought you closer to your orgasm.

your hips grind against his mouth and hand, painfully near your climax. he cursed under his breath as he felt your pussy clench around his digits. he pulls his mouth away from your clit, trailing more kisses over your stomach then rolls his tongue against your right nipple.

his hand still worked your slit, thrusting so fast that your head was spinning along with the pleasure of him sucking your erect nipple. you glanced down, seeing how his hard pressed against his khakis. just the thought of taking his cock into your mouth made you dizzy, bucking your hips against his fingers.

"yes... make me cum. i wanna fucking cum on your fingers." you muttered under your breath, pulling at his curls. dave's knees were giving out as he held his position but he loved to hear your continous begging.

he was about to see if he could pick up his pace before your hand reached down, sliding into the front of his stained pants and caressing his hard cock. he grunted against your chest, instantly weak from your touch which made him pause.

"hmm, what about i cum on your cock instead?" you giggled as your lips met his, "it's so hard... bet you've been thinking about cumming inside my tight pussy, huh, dave?"

he sighed, "shit..."

"that's what i thought, baby." you say before taking his fingers into your mouth, tasting your own cum. he takes a mental picture even though you've done this in your previous hookups.

you hop off the desk, playfully pushing him on his twin size bed. you slowly get on your knees, running your hand over the crotch of his pants that were already unbuttoned and half unzipped. it's easy for your pull his cock out, practically springing from his briefs.

his eyes are glued to you as your tongue runs up and down the base before wrapping your lips against his red tip. you half-giggle when you taste his pre-cum, then carefully take him all in your mouth. you gag a bit as his tip pushes further in, and he groans when your throat tightens around him.

you push your tongue out to make sure your teeth dont graze his cock as you deep throat him, incredibly slow, so he can watch in awe. he leans up on his elbows, falling apart as you take him in your mouth so easily and your hand pumping the rest of his base.

"fucking christ... fuck." he muttered, his dick twitching inside your mouth as your salvia runs down when you gag on his hard.

his hand runs over your hair, gathering it together to keep it out of your face— also to have a better view of him receiving one of the best blowjobs you've given him.

when you pull your mouth away, you giggle as you pump his cock with your spit lubricating for better motion. his face screws together the faster you pump, and he can barely take the pleasure.

"hmm, i bet you wanna cum on my face... and tits. but, i want you to cum inside me." you say as you but your bottom lip, running your thumb over the cum leaking from his tip.

"me too, baby. fuck!" he grunts, and it makes you smile at how much of a mess he is too.

you rise from your knees, relieving the pressure on them before straddling him on his bed. you pull off your top, tossing it on the other side of the room as he quickly peels his shirt off as well. his big hands run up your body, over your breasts once more as his thumbs move against your nipples.

"god, i want to feel every inch of your cock... so, don't stop until you're finished." you tell him as you run his tip agaisnt your slit before slowly sinking down on him.

"babe, shit... fuck." he whimpered, his fingers pressing into your hips as you arch your back.

"god, im so tight." you moan, "your cock is so big... can barely fit you inside me." you huff, your eyes closed shut as you slowly move your hips.

soon, you meet a nice pace of bouncing on his cock and he loosens up as he watches you move up and down. his bright eyes keep moving between looking at your tits and your face, completely amazed by your beauty.

you run your hands over his toned chest and abdomen, leaving light scratches on his skin from the waves of pleasure coursing throughout your body.

"dave, im gonna cum. oh, oh! i'm gonna cum." you announced to him and he was holding off anyways, his jaw clenched his much that it was beginning to feel painful.

as you arch your back and let out a long whine, he stills his hips as his warm cum fills you up. it was the first time he was fully inside you, and you were aching around his cock, feeling it throbbing against your walls.

he leans up, leaving a soft kiss just above your breasts before you two share another kiss. you can't help but giggle, both of you feeling that sudden hit of exhaustion.

you lift yourself from your cock and cum runs down your slit, letting him see the mess he made. dave smirks, expecting him to say that he'll get you a towel but instead licks his lips and starts to lean down between your legs again.

it was like deja vu. his tongue presses against your swollen slit, tasting your mixed cum before sucking on your sore clit. now you're so sensitive to the touch, you could orgasm again at any moment. he was so in tune with your body that he knew what pace to go and how long you could actually lasts.

you run your hands over your breasts, his tongue moving so perfectly between your slit and clit. you feel his press a light kiss against the area above your pussy before trailing more kisses up your body. then, you two shared another kiss, tasting each other's tongues once more before he laid next to you.

"you know, i've never had a study partner like you." you jeered, pressed a kiss against the start of his jaw.

he blushed, "me neither..." he raised his eyebrows, "trust me."

#dave lizewski #dave lizewski x reader #dave lizewski smut #dave lizewski x you #kick ass

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warnersister · 2 months

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Stay in your lane

Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin x Reader

Inspired by the song ‘Stay In Your Lane’ by Bronson Diamond and Greta Stanley

Summary: Jake finally realises it’s time to settle down when this mission could become fatal, especially when he sets eyes on the woman he knows is destined to be his future wife - but with his ‘Hangman womaniser’ reputation floating around Top Gun, it won’t be that easy.

Jake had seen you at the bar for a few weekends running now. And each weekend he had drunk enough Dutch courage yet never actually managed to speak to you. He’d first seen you the evening he was first reinstated at Top Gun for the uranium-plant ‘suicide mission’ and with this evening being the penultimate one before Maverick would construct his final flight crew; he’d decided now was a better time than ever. He’d die a happy man knowing he’d at least taken the jump with you.

He was enamoured; whipped the moment he’d first laid eyes on you. The moment all his ‘fuck-boy’ antics and aspirations melted before him and some homeliness grew. He’d always been teased for his charming bed-side manner: before sneaking out the morning after, not forgetting to delete his number from the poor girl’s phone then dashing out the door with another mark to his name and a victorious smirk on his lips.

But recently he’d been sick of the reputation he’d grown to be so proud of, almost embarrassed by his own name and face - he wasn’t blind to the two strands of grey hair that appeared behind his left ear, he wasn’t getting any younger. He didn’t want to be the unmarried sailor who had too much fun as a bachelor in his earlier years and never settled down. Jake didn’t like the idea of dying alone.

Especially not now this mission was looming ever closer.

You’d walked into the bar just before Rooster began serenading the piano, when Hangman was teasing the ‘old timer’, soon to be instructor and throwing him out of the bar for being unable to pay for the tab the aviators and civilians had accumulated for him as a consequence of his phone being on the table top. Jake had turned and winked at you when he’d ordered another beer on Maverick, one for you too for which you just rolled your eyes, unimpressed. Needless the say for once that actually bruised Hangman’s indestructible ego. Normally he wouldn’t have batted an eye when being rejected by a girl at a bar; simply moving onto his next endeavour to take some gullible girl home by the end of the night.

But you didn’t seem like that kind of girl: you seemed like a lady - a woman. And your rejection wounded him more than any bullet or stab any could.

And now you were here for the third weekend running and he was ready to finally try ask you out, especially before he got too drunk too - already racking up his eighth beer and fifth whiskey, even chancing some of the sailor’s rum sitting in the glass cabinet with all the expensive liquor. “Man, just go.” Javy said, elbowing Hangman deep enough to wind him slightly. “What if she rejects me?” Javy laughed. “Jake ‘womaniser’ Seresin is worried about being rejected?” But his chortle died down when he saw the serious conflicting expression on his fellow aviator’s face. Javy thought for a moment before walking over to Rooster and concocting a plan with him. “Hangman won’t talk to lady?” The sunglasses-clad man laughed. “Funny.” Javy shook his head. “No man I’m serious. Look at him.” They both looked across the bar to the man looking helplessly at the newly familiar girl chatting with Penny with a comfortable grin on her face.

“Damn if Hangman doesn’t want her I’ll have her.” Rooster commented, pulling his sunglasses to the end of his nose to look at you properly and whistling lowly. Javy slapped his chest, having a lightbulb moment “I’ve got it. You go and tell him that.” Rooster raised a brow waiting for him to elaborate. “Go over there, tell him you’re gonna go chat her up and watch how fast he moves.” Rooster smirked, loving the fact he was being offered the opportunity to wind up Hangman. “Next rounds on you.” He told Javy, hitting him on the back as he strutted over to the lovesick man by the pool table.

Rooster mirrored his actions from a few moments prior, eyeing you like a tall glass of water after days stranded in the heat-infested desert. He whistled, gaining Hangman’s attention, forcing him to drag his attention away from you. “Who’s the honey at the bar? She is mighty fine.” Rooster commented, biting his lip slightly. “Found my mission for tonight, wish me lucky.” He patted Hangman’s shoulder, who was getting progressively more aggravated by Rooster’s comments - not even noticing how tight his grip was on his beer before it was slammed on the table and he raced past Rooster. “Back off, porn-tash.” He grumbled and the tanned man smirked, his job was done.

Jake marched straight over to you and leant against the bar beside you, ordering another beer off of Penny and requesting she get you another of whatever you were drinking, turning to smirk at you gently. You looked at him, unimpressed but with a small smile on your lips. “Evening darlin’” Jake nodded at you, trying to make his charms work one last time. “Evening.” You replied, thanking Penny for your new drink, and him too. “Thanks for the drink, but I can pay for myself.” You say, not trusting the khaki uniforms regardless of what the face wearing them told you.

“And I don’t doubt that, allow me to apologise for treating the gorgeous lady at the bar.” He says jokingly, taking a seat beside you. “What’s your name darlin’” you laugh slightly and tell him. “And what’s yours?” You retort. “Jake. But my coworkers call me Hangman.” He told you, trying to woo you with his Naval charm. “Hangman? What, did you lose a game? Not enough consonants?” He laughed at you. Normally now he’d made a joke about him being ‘hung’ in more ways than one but he stopped himself, wanting to impress you/ not seduce you.

He continued to attempt make small talk with you throughout the evening, you hardly entertaining his antics. “Look, Hangman” you say straight, after your third drink, compliment of him of course. “I don’t know what you’re playing at, but if your goal is to get me in your bed by the end of the night, you’ve got another think coming. You have a reputation around this base and I don’t intend on becoming another one of your one-nighters.” You throw back the rest of your drink. “So thank you for the drinks, but this ends here.” You say, about to stand up before a rough yet gentle touch reached out to keep you sat, prompting a frustrating and challenging look in return.

“I’ve been shot and I’ve been stabbed but I’ve never been so madly in love as I am with you.” He said all of a sudden, causing you to sit right back down in your seat; shock overcoming you. “Excuse me?” You say, almost thinking you hadn’t heard this infamous aviator you’d only known for the past two hours admitting his adoration for you. “Look I that my reputation proceeds me, but seeing you for the first time three weeks ago made me realise somethin’, darlin” he licked his lips in nerves, gathering his thoughts: prepared to admit to you. You cocked your head to one side, almost unable to speak “I know we just met, but if I had to bet I´d say you feel the same way too”

“Cause I’ve realised that when I first looked at you, in that gorgeous dress with that bright smile, self-sufficient and head strong I knew I’d have to drop my ridiculous play-boy persona sometime soon. Especially if I wanna settle down with a mighty-fine gal such as yourself.” He admits, looking down nervously and swallowing - adam’s apple bobbing as you question his intentions and think that he may be more gentle than his reputation had told you.

Suddenly The Righteous Brothers’ infamous song amongst Miramar pilots began playing; You’ve Lost That Lovin’ Feelin’ and Hangman smirks and an idea develops within his mind. He stands and offers a hand to you “dance with me, please?” You give a small smile, allowing your heart to lead instead of your preemptive mind familiar with his kind and laced your hand in his, standing and smoothing your dress which he found incredible endearing.

He began swaying back and forth, talking so loud you could barely hear the band. As he sung along to the sound, keeping his hands respectively on your hips and eyes never straying away from your own. When the song had finished he necked the rest of his beer, drinkin´so fast you were surprised he could even stand. Even trying to be endearing; making a fool of himself dancing just to hear you laugh, dancin´ like a crab running over the stinkin´ hot sand.

Eventually you both moved to the cracked-open door adjacent to the beach, sitting on the deck as he eyed the hand closest to him, but you were still hesitant - the infamous ‘Hangman’ reputation weighing heavy in your mind. His pinky inching towards your own and you chuckle gently, shaking your head “and I was hopin’-” you cut him off “you were dreamin´ if you thought you were gonna be holdin´ my hand” you inform him.

“Later Hangman!” You both hear and turn to see the rest of the dagger squad making their way out of the bar, Nat winking at you unbeknownst to Jake and you requite her gesture. “Later!” He waves them off. He stands and struts to the bar, taking you with him to jot his details on a napkin “here is my number, call me when you get home” he slides it to you, to which you reverse his action, pushing it back to him “that number ain’t no good to me, ´cus I don’t own a telephone” you shrug, but he knew it was in your jacket pocket.

“Well then,” he scribbles again “here is my address, write to me if you could” he suggests and you shrug “well, I never finished school, my writin´ just ain’t no good” he grits his jaw slightly “the way you carry yourself tells me otherwise, ma’am.” he says and you smirk, leaning closer to whisper in his ear “that’s doctor to you, Jake.” He shivers at the way you say the name he’s been used to hearing since birth. But hearing you say it was so raw: so true. So right.

He raises a brow “Doctor? News to me” “y’never asked.” You say gently. “Final call! Another round or get your asses safely home ladies and gents!” Penny announces in a holler from her position behind the bar, to the final few stragglers at the Hard Deck; including yourself and Jake.

He opens the door for you; winking as you feign flattery and naming him a gentleman, you both thanking Penny for the evening and leaving to your respected vehicles. “Now the bar’s are closin´, and we’re leavin´ at the same time” he comments, entwining your hand with his which you begrudgingly feel absentmindedly closing around his, also. You shake your head and look up to him “So stay in your lane, boy and I’ll stay in mine” you say and his eyes sadden slightly, reaching your car and you lean against it, welcoming him trapping you against the driver’s-side door “Ive been shot and I’ve been stabbed, but I’ve never been so sad knowing I’ll never see you again” he says, pulling your hand up to kiss each knuckle, not allowing himself to disrupt eye-contact; fearing that as quick as you came into his sights, you’d be gone.

You smile, using your free hand to caress his cheek slightly; him leaning into your soft touch. “Don’t be so dramatic, I’m at this bar every damn weekend” you say matter-of-factly, leaning to kiss his cheek before pulling away and climbing into your car. “Goodnight, Hangman.” And you reverse away, a pang in his heart until he felt for his phone in the back pocket of his summer whites, a small strip of paper falling out alongside it. He picks the unknown scribe from the gravel and inspect it - your phone number written in a neat hand and he grins - maybe his bedside manner was improving.

And that mission crept up on the daggers quicker than they’d ever hoped and Hangman found himself antsy in his cockpit, about to take off to go save his instructor and career-long buddy: not that either of them would ever admit their comradeship. He closed his eyes and pictured your tired face that gleamed back at him at the twilight hour he’d last saw you, knowing you were the reason he’d return from this final task - listening to the air traffic control counting down until his take-off.

Before he’d realised, he’d acquired another air-to-air confirmed kill under his belt of a fifth-generation fighter and was headed back to base to celebrate. “Well done aviators, helicopter paramedics Reaper and Sunny are waiting on deck to check you all over.” The voice instructs over comms. “Reaper? Why’d they call ‘em that?” Hangman asks with a chuckle and the voice was dormant for a few seconds. “We usually send her when we think there’s gonna be dead needing reviving.” And soon the callsign wasn’t a joke and they realised the higher-ups were more prepared for this suicide mission than the pilots were.

Hangman climbed out of his aircraft and shook hands with Rooster, all just happy to be safe back on deck after a successful mission. “Lieutenant Seresin!” One of the engineers called “you’ve been instructed to go be checked over by Reaper.” Jake nods and walks through the crowd giving him pats on the back, to the helicopter. “Reaper? I’ve been told to be assessed.” The paramedic pivoted to face him and his facade dropped, as you stood before him in your pilot get-up and medical equipment strung onto your shoulder.

You sighed heavily “thank god you’re okay” you say and he wordlessly approaches you and dips you in a long-awaited kiss “please give me a chance, don’t make me stay in my lane, princess”

“Wouldn’t think of it, cowboy”

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btsgotjams27 · 9 months

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things you don't know | jjk

summary: it’s been seven years since you last saw the boy that broke your heart. after moving back home, you try everything you can to avoid seeing him around town, but destiny has a wicked way of doing the opposite.

✨ title: things you don't know | one shot ✨ pairing: jungkook x f!reader | ✨ rating: M/17+ ✨ genre/au: angst | ex best friends!au | ✨ word count: 4.3k ✨ warnings: language, drinking, light kisses, miscommunication, reader jokes about unaliving her other best friend, mentions of throwing up ✨ prompt: “i thought i’d never see you again” ✨ a/n: heyoooo. so this is loosely based off a friendship i had in high school and in case you're wondering (irl) i haven't seen this man in over 17 years (oh gawd i'm old). anyway, thank you to @shina913 for being my beta.

✨ mini-series masterlist ✨

You were a fool to believe nothing could tear you and your best friend apart. Just like in the movies you'd watch for hours, you realized you were not the main character; he was. You were only part of the supporting cast, the best friend–not the one he wanted. Someone else had been occupying his mind, his thoughts, and you guessed you weren't privy to know all of him.

You wondered if you became the villain in his story. Were you the other woman? How could you have known if he never told you? He was your best friend. The one you shared everything with–your hopes, dreams, and even the dumbest little details of your life.

And maybe you expected too much. Maybe you had built a world of sunshine and rainbows and believed no storms could ever weather through. Maybe you cared too much, thinking he felt the same.

But at long last, you had become the girl jealous of Josie–the person who took away your best friend.

The city you lived in had grown vastly the last time you were here. Multiple lanes were added to the highways, and fields of land were cleared out for new homes, shops, and restaurants to try. Though the only thing on your mind was not bumping into him.

His was the only face you didn't want to run into in a city that felt familiar and unfamiliar. It felt silly. You're a grown woman with a car and an apartment–had bills to pay, and running into one person shouldn't haunt you as it did.

You might have done some detective work, going through old high school friends lists on Facebook and Instagram, lurking to see if he would show up. But as you suspected, he didn't exist on social media, so your chances of seeing him increased in your weird little mind.

The old hangout places were on your no-go list. Remember, you're trying to avoid him. He has not been on your mind every waking second, minute and hour. You weren't wondering how he was doing or if he was okay. He didn't deserve to occupy your mind, take all your energy.

But if you were to bump into him, you had a monologue ready to tell him how he had fucked up your mind, spiked all your insecurities, and hoped he and his stupid little girlfriend lived unhappily ever after. He deserved that, at least.

"Did you see Lillie's Instagram post? The one where a bunch of them were out celebrating Josie's birthday?" Lana asked, sipping on her iced vanilla latte. Lana was another high school best friend who didn't stomp all over your heart.

And regarding Lillie's post, it was hard not to see it when everyone you knew was tagged. Some things never change, you guessed. The same circle of friends, the same drama, the same gossip, but then again, you were sitting with one of your oldest friends.

"Yeah, I saw it."

And you also noticed how Jungkook wasn't in any photos. After doing your detective research and scouring through the internet. He was a ghost, not even showing up in tagged photos. You were hoping to get a glimpse of him in the background, but you hadn't seen a picture of him in years, so you had no idea if he had grown into that big 'ol nose of his or if he had gotten those piercings and tattoos he's always wanted. There was no trace of this man, not even in Josie's pictures.

Last you heard, they were still together, and you always rolled your eyes hard, remembering what Jeon Jungkook did to you. Didn't even have the fucking balls to say it to your face, but in a letter instead.

You suspected it was all Josie's fault. Probably afraid you'd steal him away, or he'd prefer to hang out with you. And you understood, he wasn't your boyfriend or anything, just a friend. Ex-best friend, that is. So you supposed any girl that did like Jungkook would be intimidated by your friendship.

"Have you seen Jungkook at all?"

Lana knew what went down–dropping you like a fly, like you didn't exist. She had teased you like a madwoman because you were crushing hard on his friend, Jimin, and somehow ended up befriending Jungkook.

"Nope," you said flatly.

"So, you know how we always talk about Jungkook being untraceable? I think I found him," she said, pulling out her phone.

Your jaw clenched before huffing out a breath. Lana liked to poke the bear when it came to Jungkook. You knew it wasn't intentional, and there was a part that held onto those painful memories because you weren't over what he did to you. Countless nights of questions and if you could've done anything to save your friendship. Wondering what you did wrong and why he picked Josie instead of you. You thought he had feelings and just didn’t want to act on it.

Lana slid the phone over, her two fingers zooming in on a brightened photo. "It's definitely Jungkook," she pointed to a figure in the background.

You narrowed your eyes as she moved the photo around. Your heart skipped a beat. You'd recognize that nose anywhere. It was him. He wasn't a ghost. There was actual evidence that he existed.

"I searched for more photos, but nothing else came up."

You chuckled. "Of course not. Jeon Jungkook doesn't exist on social media. It was never his thing anyway. It was always Josie who liked the attention."

"As a couple, they make no sense to me. What does he see in her anyway?" Lana pondered, sucking up the last of her latte.

Josie was popular and pretty and did every extracurricular activity known to man. Jungkook was quite the opposite: introverted, kept to himself, played games day and night, yet somehow they still ended up together.

"I don't know. Maybe she has a great personality or something," you answered.

She had everything and could’ve had anyone in the senior class, and something always bothered you about their relationship. You just couldn’t put your finger on it.

Lana could see your despair and decided to change the subject. "What are you doing tonight? Jimin is having a small party and was super excited when I told him you moved back."

You narrowed your eyes, your lips thinned. "What are we? In high school again?"

"Come on, babe. It'll be just like old times. I'll even pick you up. I know you hate driving."

It's only been a week since you've moved back. You didn't even know where all of your cute clothes were. "I have nothing to wear." It was the best excuse you could come up with at the moment.

"I got you. Don't worry about it!"

Fuck—you should've opted for a different excuse.

"I thought you said this was a small party," you said, wearing a dress that was barely covering your ass. You'd get Lana back for putting you in the tightest dress.

"Trust me, this is small." Lana hooked her arm with yours, dragging you to the kitchen, where Jimin poured several soju bottles and sodas into a pitcher. It was quite the concoction.

“How can he afford this place?” you whispered as you stared at the fancy marbled island and large commercial refrigerator.

Lana shrugged. “I don’t think he lives by himself. Probably has roommates or something.”

"Ladies! You're here!" Jimin squealed, setting down the soju bottle. He hugged Lana before greeting you warmly. "Oh—it's so good to see you!" He wrapped his arms around you, moving you from side to side, digging his chin into your shoulder.

"It's good to see you too, Jimin. You're, um, still quite the host." His parties were all the rage in high school, and now that you look back, you're unsure what you saw in Jimin. He was a good guy, a great dancer, but he partied too much for your taste. Maybe you were shallow and just liked him for his looks.

"I have a reputation to uphold." He wiggled his eyebrows, handing you a shot glass. "I call this little drink 'Soju Sunrise.'" He held his glass, waiting for you to clink it against his.

"Here goes nothing." The glasses clack together, and the mixed liquids go down your throat as smooth as silk. Surprisingly, the cocktail is rather tasty, and you hold out your glass for another round.

"Yes! That's my girl!"

After multiple rounds of Jimin's Soju Sunrise, your body loosened up along with your tongue, being quite the chatterbox to everyone hanging around. The alcohol coursing through your veins made catching up with old friends less dull. Though you wish you could've had a sign plastered to you stating your job, why you were back, and what you've been up to. It would've made your life simpler.

As you exited the bathroom, Lana immediately pulled you into an empty bedroom, closing the door behind her.

"What the fuck, Lana?"

"He's here!" she exclaimed out of breath.

"Who?" Confusion sets on your face.

“He-who-must-not-be-named!”

"Voldemort?" You raised a brow, pouting your lips together.

She struck your head. You scowled, rubbing the spot. Still confused, you think back to the crowded room.

A lightbulb finally goes off. You blame the Soju Sunrise for making you an airhead. "You've got to be kidding me."

"She's here too."

Oh, how you'd rather be clawing your eyes out right now. It would hurt less than facing Jungkook and Josie after all these years.

You had your little monologue prepared and ready to go, but you didn't think you'd have to recite it. Did you even remember what you wanted to say?

You looked around the room and sprinted when you saw a window. Your hands fumbled with the lock, but it was too hard to open.

"What are you doing?" Lana asked, her eyebrows knitted together, watching you struggle.

"I'm gonna climb out the window." It was the only sensible thing to do.

"You're so fucking dramatic."

"It's the only way to avoid them."

Lana grabbed your arms and made you look at her. "You are a grown-ass woman. Put on your big girl panties and walk out that door with your head held high."

"But I don't wanna," you pout. "And I'm wearing granny panties." You lowered your head, staring at your dress, picturing the blush-colored panties with a little bow on the front.

"Granny panties with this dress?"

"What? I couldn't find other ones and I like full coverage." Curse you for not unpacking like you should've been doing.

"Would've been better if you went commando."

"Lana! I have some dignity."

"Do you, though? You won't even leave this room and face the one person who broke your heart."

"Thanks, Lana," you said flatly.

"You're welcome!" she smiled, shaking your body. "Come on. You can do this. I believe in you." You rolled your eyes, staring blankly at her. She scanned you from head to toe, then back up to your chest. "Sweetie, we gotta make sure your tits are stunning." She dragged down the top of the dress, ensuring the swells of your breasts were peeking through.

"Lana, I'm not trying to seduce the guy." Okay—maybe you developed a crush on him, but it's not like you were going to make a move, he had a girlfriend for fuck’s sake.

"Yeah, who cares? We're trying to make Josie jealous."

"This is so high school," you comment, digging through your purse for your lipstick.

"Your point is?" Lana blinked.

You huffed. Okay—fine. If this were the only time you'd see Jeon Jungkook and Kim Josie, then fuck it. You could pretend everything was great for five minutes. Your hand went underneath your dress, tugging off your granny panties and tossing them on the ground.

"Holy shit—going commando too?" Lana squealed and clapped excitedly.

Hiking your dress up just a smidge, you were ready to smile and lie through whatever this dreaded conversation would bring up, probably old feelings of hurt and regret.

You hooked your arm through Lana's, with your shoulders back and head held high. This was it. After all this time, you would face the son-of-a-bitch who broke your heart and the cruel witch who took him away.

You had class—at least, you hoped you did. So, you'd play it cool, be calm and collected. Pretend like you had your shit together.

That is until you turned the corner and immediately spotted them snuggled up in the corner. Josie looked like a lovesick puppy all over him. Jungkook, not so much.

You clutched Lana's arm tighter and came to a halt. You repeated your short monologue in your brain from the bedroom to the living room, but it was as if your mind had wiped everything and your brain's connectors were short-circuiting.

Your eyes glistened as you watched the two. Josie sat on his lap, arms wrapped around his neck, kissing him. Your lower lip quivered, and your stomach sank. You weren't sure if you needed to hurl because of them or because of the soju. Perhaps both.

Jungkook pulled away from her grasp, seemingly annoyed by her show of affection. As soon as he turned away from her, his eyes landed on you.

You flashed a small smile and a wave of your hand. Who knew seeing Jungkook would make you feel the complete opposite of the narrative you had created? In your head, he was a heartless best friend who left you for a wicked witch, but here he was in the flesh and was just that big-nosed, doe-eyed boy whom you shared everything with. You missed him so much and wanted to catch up on life like no time had passed.

Lana turned to you. "Hey, what happened to the bad bitch persona? Aren't you gonna tell him off?"

"I'm so stupid, Lana. I can't do this." So much anger had been building up within the last seven years, but underneath that anger was just a girl who was heartbroken.

Lana nudged you in the ribs. You two watched as he pushed Josie off his lap, causing her to frown. You attempted to let go, but she pulled you in as Jungkook beelined toward you.

"Oh, my god! Jeon Jungkook in the flesh?" Lana said in a dramatic tone. "You do exist! I can't believe it. Well, I'm going to find myself another drink! Have fun catching up with your bestie!" She punched Jungkook's shoulder hard, and he scowled and flinched, massaging the spot.

You pressed your lips together, unsure what to say to him. It's been seven years since you last saw him. Once you graduated from high school, you were out of each other's hair. You were off to college a few hours away, and he stayed in town to attend a local university.

Jungkook cut off all forms of communication. It was like your friendship ceased to exist, which hurt you the most. The last thing you received from him was a measly little letter explaining that he was with Josie and that she didn't want you coming in between their relationship.

You couldn't understand why Jungkook couldn't just talk to you. Josie was never mentioned in conversations, nor did you see him with her, so it felt out of left field. If Jungkook told you he liked someone, you'd never stand in the way of his happiness. You thought he knew you better than that, but maybe you were wrong. Maybe you didn't know each other at all.

"I thought I'd never see you again," Jungkook said, the corners of his mouth curving into a warm smile.

You only paid attention to the glow-up Jungkook had. He did get the lip piercings he wanted, along with the tattoos. You could see them peeking through underneath his gray hoodie hanging off his shoulder. The white tank top defined his taut chest, letting you know he liked to work out. His damp hair curled in all the right places against the nape of his neck and his forehead. The silver chain adorning his neck looked pretty enough to tug on.

"You look great, by the way," Jungkook added, breaking you out of your daze.

"Oh, thanks. So do you." You manage to squeak out finally; then you remember how provocative you looked in your dress compared to sweet, innocent, looking Josie in her pink floral sundress, who was making their way toward you.

"Jungkook, can we please get a drink?" Josie whined, giving you the once over before latching onto Jungkook like the leech she was.

"You remember—"

Josie interrupted, "Yeah–don't remind me. Can we go?"

Josie stormed off toward the kitchen, leaving you and Jungkook behind. Did he have any say in their relationship, or did she tug him around like a puppy on a short leash?

You're stunned but not surprised by her remark. Once a bitch, always a bitch.

Turning your attention back to him, you realize you have nothing to say. The scars from this friendship were carved deeply into your heart; not even the monologue you rehearsed could dissipate the pain he caused.

"I—I gotta go," you said, taking off toward the bedroom because you couldn't fucking leave your underwear on a random stranger's floor. You had to save whatever dignity you had left.

"Wait—" He tried to grab your attention and followed you, walking through the hallway toward a room. He watched you go from one end of the room to the other, searching for something. "What are you doing in my room?"

You straighten your posture, slowly turning to him. "This is your room?"

"Yeah, Jimin and I share this place along with another friend.”

Oh, now you were going to fucking kill Lana. She knew. She must have! That's why she wanted to bring you here. And out of all the rooms, you had to pick Jeon Jungkook’s to leave your underwear in?

"Great," you said in exasperation. You turned back around in search of your panties. "Where the fuck is it?" It could only be in so many places.

"Where's what?"

You got down on your hands and knees, tugging your dress down, looking underneath the bed for your granny panties. "Nothing," you grumbled. "Fuck it. Forget it." You stood, walking past Jungkook. He could have your underwear as a keepsake, you suppose.

"Hey—" He gripped your arm. "Come on. This is how you greet me after all this time?"

You scoffed, glaring at him. "You're fucking kidding me, right? You're lucky I'm even speaking to you. You don't even deserve that."

He lets go of your arm. "We kind of ended on a sour note, but it wasn't my fault."

He couldn't see it, but smoke was fuming from your ears, and you wished your death glare could burn through him and maybe even through Josie. How fucking dare he put all the blame on you? And for what exactly? You might add that you did nothing but be his friend, and he ghosted you like you meant nothing to him.

"So it's my fault?" You assumed he was placing the blame on you. "How is it my fault? Please enlighten me, Jungkook."

He quieted down, cowering his head.

"You showed up holding hands with Josie, then proceeded to not talk to me like a human being and instead wrote me a fucking letter like the coward you are. A letter, for fucks sake. You could've had the common decency to say it to my face."

You walked out of language class, and there they were, hand in hand as you idly watched from behind. And he didn’t even hand you the letter. He had stuffed it in your locker.

Your words took him aback. His recount of how everything went down was different from yours. "I'm sorry," he said. His eyes flicked to yours before looking away.

"Well, it's too fucking late for apologies."

Jungkook called out to you, and you didn't look back, storming away from him. You passed by Lana, telling her you were leaving and that you'd talk to her later.

You ran out the front door, stopping at the sidewalk's edge, remembering that Lana drove. "Fuck," you grumbled, pulling out your phone to grab an Uber.

You were stupid to think Jeon Jungkook wouldn't affect you after all these years. Maybe it's because you haven't dealt with feeling abandoned by him. Maybe you wished you did more for your friendship. Whatever the reason, you knew moving back wasn't a good idea because you’d have to deal with this.

"Hey!" Jungkook called out. You looked over your shoulder and continued walking. He ran in front of you to grab your attention. "Can you talk to me?" he asked, stuffing his hands in the pocket of his hoodie.

"Why don't you fucking write me a letter? Since you're so good at that," you mocked as you shuffled around him. He was a shitty writer who could barely pass Creative Writing without your help.

"That's not fair."

You scoffed, stopping in your tracks to turn back to him. "Run back to your little girlfriend. Don’t you have to get her approval first before talking to me?"

"She's not my girlfriend."

You tut. "Yeah–okay." That was hard to believe, considering she was all over him.

"She's not. We haven't been together for a while now," Jungkook explained.

"You looked pretty cozy earlier."

Jungkook looks at the ground, kicking around an invisible rock. "It's complicated."

"That's great, Jungkook, but I really don't want to hear about your relationship problems. Good luck with Josie and in life. You two deserve each other." You pulled out your phone to see if the Uber was arriving.

Crossing your arms, you walked back toward Jimin's place. You wish you pinned the pick-up location somewhere else, but you'd have to endure his presence longer.

Jungkook followed, giving you some space, stopping when you did. His eyes raked over you. His dimple appeared and disappeared as he licked his lips and chewed on the inside of his cheek.

"When you got your acceptance letter to college, and you decided you were leaving, you didn't bother to ask about what I thought," he said, hands still in his pocket, staring at the ground. Your eyes flickered to him before looking away. He softly chuckled, "I thought to myself, what would I do without my best friend? I had nothing going for me, didn't even know what I wanted to do—still don't know what I want to do. And as much as you make me out to be the bad guy in your story, there are a lot of things you don't know."

You turned away from him as your eyes began to well up. You didn't want to cry before him, rehashing things from so long ago. You let out a shaky breath, trying to contain your emotions.

"Why didn't you say anything?" you asked, using the back of your hand to wipe away the snot threatening to fall.

He shrugged. "I don't know. I would never want to keep you from something that made you happy," he admitted.

You were always open with each other, so you're unsure why this one thing made it seem like he couldn't be honest with you.

"Tell me one thing."

Jungkook hummed.

"Why didn't you tell me about Josie?" It was the one question that lingered since you received his letter.

His lips thinned. "Honestly?" You nodded. "It all happened so quickly. Jimin was throwing a party that night when you told me about going off to college, and I was in my head, overthinking everything. And Josie was there, being sweet and comforting me, and I don't know what came over me. I just kissed her to make myself feel better. Then, the next day at school, she took my hand and told everyone we were together."

"So, let me get this straight? I told you I'm going off to college. You get upset, kiss Josie because you were mad about me leaving, and then end up in a relationship with her?"

"Well, when you put it that way, it sounds ridiculous."

You turned to him, hitting him across the chest several times. He held his hands up to block you. "Because Jeon Jungkook, it is ridiculous! God–you're such—a—" you groaned. "Do you know how much you hurt me? We could've avoided all this if you had just talked to me. Life could've been different for us. You could've come with me, and then we could've been together."

"Together?" He stared at you with his starry brown eyes.

"Yes, you dummy! I liked you, if you couldn't tell. I was going to tell you, but then you and Josie happened, and well, you know how the rest of the story goes."

You closed your eyes and let out a long-awaited breath. It felt like a weight was lifted off your shoulders, getting all this out in the open. You weren't expecting Jungkook to do anything to make you feel better, but at least he could hear what you wanted to say after all these years.

Your uber pulled up and you opened the door, holding onto it as you looked at Jungkook. A glimpse of the boy you once knew still lingered in his eyes. If you could go back and do it all over again, you would've fought harder for him, fought for what the two of you had. It was too precious of a friendship to let go just like that. Unfortunately, life didn't work that way.

There were no forms of time travel or alternate dimensions where the two of you could've lived happily ever after, and there were only the choices you made here and now.

"Bye, Jungkook."

✨ read part two | read part three ✨

#jungkook fanfic #jungkook fic #jungkook angst #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #bts fanfic #bts x reader #bts x you #bts fic #jungkook imagine #jungkook scenarios

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mountainsandmayhem · 4 months

Text

You’re Mine, Little Dove

(Joel Miller x Female!Reader) 18+

Summary: You’ve always loved walking at night, but an unexpected visitor goes from the most terrifying to most erotic night of your life.

TW: predator/prey dynamics, ropes, blindfolding, gagging, non consent, consensual non consent, oral, fingering, unprotected P in V, dirty talk, pet names (little dove, baby girl etc.)

A/N: I can’t say much without giving anything away, but this scene has been so fun for me to write. I’m tagging @untamedheart81 @beboldbebravethings @rav3n-pascal22 and @spookyxsam since you 4 wonderful people had such amazing support for my last story. And because delulu is the solulu, I’m also tagging @swiftispunk and @thetriumphantpanda because they’re both incredible creators and I truly admire their work.

🤍🕊️🤍 •• 🤍🕊️🤍 •• 🤍🕊️🤍 •• 🤍🕊️🤍

You’ve always loved the night, and since getting promoted at work walking in the dark has become your way of winding down. Your friends think you’re crazy, blabbing on about how it’s dangerous and you shouldn’t be out there alone. One even suggested buying really dark sunglasses and walking during the day. You all laughed at that as you sipped rosé, but it’s not the same. For one, the summer sun in Texas is way too hot most days, but it’s also too “peopley” during the day. You want the solitude and quiet that comes with the dark.

All day you’re interrupted and expected to do things outside of your lane. Take work for example, today you were asked to take meeting minutes for a meeting that the team you lead isn’t even a part of. You lead a team, and have an assistant of your own who takes meeting notes, doesn’t that team lead have an assistant who can do that?

Probably not. He’s an arrogant prick, you think to yourself. But he’s the boss's son so he gets away with it. And because of that, you agree. You always fucking agree. Always happy to help, never saying no.

Here in the night though, it’s just you. The night doesn’t ask you to do anything but sleep, which you will do after enjoying the cooler summer air on your skin as you wander through the park behind your house.

There’s also a slight edge of danger to it that entices you. The park is well-lit, but who knows what could happen in the darkness between the casts of yellow light from lamppost to lamppost. Those darker spots might be your favourite, just a few steps away from the safety of the light.

You stop in one of those dark spots, closing your eyes and tilting your head up to the sky, taking a big cleansing breath in.

Silence. Calm. Peace.

You hold your breath for a few seconds, silence ringing in your ears before you slowly exhale. Just before you open your eyes, two strong arms wrap around you. A hand clamps over your mouth, the other arm other snakes tightly around your waist, pinning your arms down with it.

Silence, calm, and peace, were quickly replaced with fear, terror, and panic.

A solid wall of a person leads you to the grassy, non-lit areas of the park and you realize you have never known fear before. The fun fear of a roller coaster or haunted house, yes; but never true heart-stopping fear. Your stomach drops and everything inside you is yelling to fight.

“Don’t scream, little dove.” A deep voice rumbles through you. If it wasn’t for his massive form holding you up, you’re sure you’d fall over.

This doesn’t happen here. This is a safe neighbourhood where you know all your neighbours. For a second you think it’s a joke, someone sneaking up on you that you know, but it’s almost midnight on a Wednesday. Who would be up at this point?

As he pulls you along your fear evolves into terror. You’re frantically trying to catch your breath through your nose as every happy memory floods through you. The sparkly pink bike you got when you were six. The first time you saw white sand and crystal clear blue waters. Watching your best friend get engaged. How proud your parents looked when you got promoted last year. What was the last thing you even said to your parents?

His strong frame forces you to the grass. He places a knee on your back, holding you down as he ties your hands with a scratchy rope. Your mouth is free as your forehead rests on the grass.

Scream. Now.

You open your mouth but nothing comes out. Why can’t you scream or at least look back at him to see who he is so you can describe him to the police?

Oh god, what if he doesn’t let you go?

Just as you open your mouth to try to scream again he gags you and then blindfolds you. You’re pretty sure it’s done with silk ties, but you really can’t be sure.

“Good job, little dove.” He coos in your ear as he helps you up. “You’ll be rewarded for keeping quiet.”

He leads you through more of the grassy fields. You try to map out which house you’re headed toward in your mind’s eye until you’re interrupted by the sound of crunching gravel under your shoes. You assume you’re in an alley or street as you hear the clicking of a car door.

Your overly conservative father's voice comes into your head. “You can’t go out dressed like that. Boys will get the wrong idea. You’re inviting them to take advantage of you.”

That was years ago. You’re an adult woman now, with a degree and a mortgage. You know your clothing isn’t an excuse for this man’s abhorrent behaviour, but maybe you should have changed from your denim skirt and tight black top.

As you hear the vehicle door open the panic begins. Your breath comes in shorter and shallower, and it feels like your heart is thumping in your throat. You’re sure your captor can hear it, or at least feel it through the skin of your bicep that he’s gripping so tightly. A whimper escapes you as he hoists you into a back seat and slams the door.

“Don’t cry, little dove.” He says from the front as he starts the engine. “It’ll only entice me.”

Fuck. Fuck. You’re dead. Or trafficked. How could you not have screamed?! You let him take you, but did you stand a chance either way? You could feel his chest on the back of your head when he grabbed you, he was probably a foot taller than you. His strong hand was large enough to practically cover your whole face. He was the predator…you were the prey.

You calm your breathing and focus on the turns the vehicle takes as it pulls out of your neighbourhood, not letting the tears fall, you refuse to give him that sort of satisfaction.

It feels like you’ve been driving for hours before you finally come to a stop. He hasn’t said anything from the front seat. No music played. As he turns off the car you can hear the sound of a garage door closing. You’re royally fucked.

The door near your feet opens and you scramble to the other side of the vehicle as your instincts to fight ignite. A strong hand grabs your ankle and pulls you forward. You kick blindly with your other leg, screaming through the silk that’s wedged between your teeth. He catches your other ankle, squeezing them both together with one hand and binds them together.

He hoists you over his shoulder and lays a hard spank across your ass, eliciting a squeal as the walls of your pussy clench a little. “Behave, little dove,” he says cockily. You can’t see him, but you know he’s smirking over how easily he overpowered you.

You try to say ‘fuck you’ through your gag.

“Oh, I intend to.” He says as he takes you inside and up the stairs.

He drops you down on a bed and undoes the gag. “Tell me your name.”

“Touch me again and I’ll rip your dick off.” You spit.

He chuckles a little while straddling you and lifting the hem of your shift, exposing the soft skin of your stomach. “I love it when my little doves talk dirty to me.”

He places light kisses along your skin and you squirm to try to get free, but his large frame has you trapped and your arms and legs are useless if they’re bound. A deep moan from his chest shoots straight to your core, sending a new wave of arousal as your body starts to betray you.

“You’re a fucking coward,” you say with as much hate as you can muster, trying to ignore the want that’s spreading through your traitorous body.

He lifts your shirt higher, exposing all the skin between your bra and denim skirt, continuing to place soft kisses and light nibbles along your skin.

“I only want to make you feel good, little dove.” He says in a husky whisper, “How does that make me a coward?”

God dammit he feels so warm against you. You push his soft lips and deep soothing voice out of your mind and focus back on the fear, terror and panic you felt earlier.

“Capturing someone in the night. Binding them. Real men aren’t afraid of the fight.” Taunting him is incredibly risky, but if you entice him enough he might untie you and you can fight like hell to get free. He couldn’t have taken you far.

His kisses cease. You almost let out a whimper of protest at him stopping. Are you this desperate for touch? You have a boyfriend.

“Is that what you think, little dove?” He shifts to be straddling your hips, leaning forward with both forearms on either side of your face. He brushes away some hair that has stuck to your lips. “That I’m not a real man?”

You can feel the bulge in his pants pressing against your stomach as you try to squirm free. “Yes, you’re fucking pathetic.”

His lips move to your neck. Wet kisses moving from your ear to your collarbone. You’ve always been a sucker for neck kisses and with sight being taken away, your sense of touch seems heightened. Shit, his lips feel good and at this proximity, you catch a faint smell of leather and cedar. He trails his tongue back up before gently biting your earlobe.

Fuck, a small shiver runs down your back and your breath hitches as you squeeze your thighs together.

“I’ll make you a deal, little dove,” he whispers, his lips brushing the shell of your ear. “If you can keep your breathing steady for the next 5 minutes, I’ll untie you and remove the blindfold.”

You feel dizzy by the closeness and gentleness of him. “And if I can’t?” You breathe.

“If you can’t…I’ll untie your ankles and remove the blindfold. I have a feeling you have beautiful eyes.”

You swallow hard, contemplating your options. He kidnapped you. He doesn’t have your consent to any of this, but based on the wetness that is now coating your thighs, your body doesn’t seem to get the same message.

You take a deep breath before saying, “Deal.”

Before the word has fully left your lips, he’s ripped your tank top completely open. His fingers work the front clasp on your bra as he whispers that he’s sorry about your shirt and starts placing hungry kisses down your neck. Your breasts are completely exposed to him, the cool air turning your nipples into stiff peaks.

“You’re fucking gorgeous.” He says as he cups both your breasts. His tongue swipes along the left nipple as his thumb caresses the smooth skin underside of the right one.

You remind yourself that he kidnapped you and try not to let your body and breathing betray you, but your thighs squeeze tighter for relief and your mind is swimming.

His tongue swipes harder before he moves over to the right one, sucking it into his mouth and rolling the other between his fingers.

He’s playing you like a fiddle. How does he seem to know exactly what you like?

He releases your nipple with a pop before gently blowing cool air on it. He latches back onto the left one, swirling with his tongue and your hips involuntarily buck forward as your breath stutters.

“Good girl, little dove.” He says with a low growl, coming back up to be face to face. “Looks like I win. Your hands stay tied, but I’ll free your ankles and take off the blindfold.”

His minty breath hits your nostrils. Fuck, my hands!! How could you have forgotten about your hands? Shit. You can’t believe you let this monster make you feel good.

He slips the blindfold off and you blink a few times, adjusting to the dimly lit room and taking in the man on top of you. Fuck, monster he is not. His curly dark hair is pushed back and you can see some salt and pepper around the temples. He has patchy facial that you couldn’t even feel when he was kissing you, he was being much more gentle than you thought. He’s handsome and rugged…if anything, this man is your type.

“I was right,” he says, his deep brown eyes staring right into you. “You do have beautiful eyes.”

Now that he sees you as a person, you might be able to elicit some sympathy.

“P-please let me go.” You say, holding in tears.

He tilts his head to one side, a small smile revealing a dimple that makes you melt a little. “Let you go? We’ve only just started, little dove.”

The fear starts to come back again as he shifts to untie your ankles. “Please don’t do this.”

He kisses up your thighs and speaks between kisses. “Sshhhh…let me make you feel good and then you can go home.”

You should kick or flail or do something, you had your best chance just seconds ago, but his warm, soft kisses had you too distracted. You start to think this man wouldn’t actually hurt you. But he is hurting you by forcing you to be here in the first place, isn’t he?

You look down at him to see him lying beside you, head propped in one hand near your hip as the other trails up and down your legs. His features are soft, eyes wholly focused on the tiny goosebumps he’s leaving on his skin. His hand slips between your thighs and tries to part your legs, you’re suddenly unsure if you’re squeezing them together to ease the throbbing of your clit or out of fear.

“Open your legs for me, little dove.” He says as he kisses the tops of your thighs.

You shake your head as the tears you were holding in roll down your cheeks. He’s right near your knees now, you could draw one up into his jaw, but those big chocolate eyes are looking up at you so lovingly.

He get up, walks towards the end of the bed and grabs your ankles. Like the flip of a switch, his look turns harsh and angry before he pulls you to the edge of the bed. Your skirt hikes up around your waist from the motion and he licks his lips as he wedges his body between your knees, spreading you apart enough for him to see you glistening for him.

“Tsk, tsk.” He says while shaking his head and lowering himself slowly between your legs. “Walking alone at night, in this little skirt with no panties?”

He lowers himself between your thighs and you begin to realize just how broad he is as your leg muscles cry out from the stretch. The rest of the room comes into view. There are handcuffs and ropes, along with paddles and whips hanging on the wall. There was no escaping this man, and your curiosity is peaked by the ropes you notice around the bed frame.

“Perhaps you’re not a little dove after all.” He taunts, looking at your wide eyes as they take in the room. He’s going to take what he wants from you and you barely fought it. You’re enjoying his words and touches, even more so now that you see how incredibly handsome he is.

“Please.” You whimper, making eye contact with your captor. Though you aren’t sure if it’s a plea to stop or keep going.

“You look even more gorgeous spread out for me like this. So wet. And warm.” He’s looking at your cunt like it’s the newest wonder of the world. “Doesn’t look like she has gotten the attention she needs lately. Does your boyfriend not know what he’s doing?”

His warm breath hits your core as he speaks, sending waves of warmth from the base of your spine out to your fingertips.

“He….” you aren’t sure what to say. You love your boyfriend, “he does. He just isn’t…skilled.”

A gentle kiss is placed on your mound, right above the spot that’s aching for attention. “Poor baby. Do you need me to take care of it, little dove?”

You clamp your eyes shut. You shouldn’t. This is wrong. But your traitorous pussy has other plans and you very quietly whisper yes.

His mouth is on your before you can even process what you just agreed to. A flat, wet tongue laps from your entrance to your clit a few times before he sucks your clit into his mouth. He groans deeply as he tastes you, sending a rumble straight through you. You cry out loudly and arch your back, pushing yourself into him.

“Good girl.” He says before doing it again. “I want to hear you enjoy it.”

His mouth continues to keep you on edge. Rotating between licking and sucking, adding pressure until you start breathing heavily and then easing up. You’re right on the edge, but he’s not letting you over.

“Please. Please let me come.” You beg.

He stops, looking at you with a cocky smirk, revealing that fucking dimple again. “That boyfriend of yours has been mistreating you, little dove. So worked up.”

You let a whine when he stops and begs some more. “Please. You feel so good.”

He slams two fingers deep inside of you. You’re so wet that it happens with ease and when he curls his fingers forward, right to that spongy part, you start to feel like your bones are dissolving.

“F-fuuuuuck,” you gasp.

His tongue begins to flick against your clit again, gently at first as he works you with his fingers. You can feel your arousal dripping down his hand and pooling under your ass. He starts applying more pressure with his tongue and you know that he’s going to make you come. Hard. And with your hands still tied behind your back you won’t be able to push him away when you become too sensitive. Too overly stimulated.

“Come on my little dove,” he says between licks. “Show me how good this feels.”

Your orgasm hits with a force you have never felt before. Electricity feels like it courses through your entire body and you scream out to the room, legs shaking as you cover his hand and mouth with your arousal. He doesn’t let up, sucking and licking as your orgasm feels like it lasts forever. Finally, you can’t take it anymore and you try to roll away.

“S-Stop. S’too much,” you gasp. “Please.”

He pulls his fingers from you, pinning your hips down with his forearm making you a prisoner to his tongue. He’s going to make you come again.

“I can’t,” you huff as you try to escape.

“Ssh, little dove. You can take it.” He keeps sucking and licking your swollen bundle of nerves.

Your body starts to shake, the word no escaping your lips over and over. You mean yes, but this man is overwhelming you with pleasure in a way no one ever has before, and you don’t know if you can take it.

He moans against you as he sucks, that same rumble from earlier, it consumes you and that’s what does it. You come again, grinding shamelessly against his face as he smiles up at you.

“Good girl. Fuck, I am going to ruin you for every other man. No one is going to make you come as hard, or as much as I will. Roll over.”

The fact that he’s taken you against your will is not even in your mind as you slide back into the bed to roll over. He pulls you up so your knees are resting right on the edge, fully on display for him.

“Such a perfect little pussy. And a perfect girl. Being so good for me.” You hear his belt and jeans hit the floor. Glancing back you see him naked from the waist down, pumping his cock in his hand. Your eyes widen at the size of him.

“No. It’s not gonna….I can’t do it.” You crawl up the bed to get away, laying flat on your stomach.

He climbs up behind you and hitches one of your legs up before aligning himself with your soaked entrance.

“Relax, little dove,” he whispers in your ear before gently kissing your neck. He pushes himself into you and you tense up at the size of him.

“You need to relax, baby girl.” He says deeply, “Take a deep breath. You can do this.”

You do as he says, looking over your shoulder at him and breathing deeply.

He pushes into you more, not breaking eye contact. “Good girl. Make room for me.”

He’s stretching you almost to the point of pain but you listen and breathe. The more relaxed you are the better it feels. There can’t be much more left for him to get inside of you.

“Almost there. You’re such a good little dove. One more breath baby.” Finally, you feel his hips pressed against your ass. He stays still for a second and you grind back into him.

“Fuck, stay still for a second. You’re so tight.” He gasps. Pride fills you that this big man can be brought to pieces by just the tiniest wiggle of your ass.

He takes a few breaths this time before he starts to move. He starts slow. Moving halfway out and then back in a few times. You need more.

“Fuck me,” you moan. “Please. Ruin me for other men like you promised.”

A hard smack lands on your ass cheek before he pumps in and out of you. He’s rough with you now, grabbing your hair and pounding as deep as he can after pulling out to the tip.

“You won’t be able to walk for a week.” He grunts before releasing your hair and spanking you again.

It’s euphoric. The perfect mix of pleasure and pain. You arch your back more and he lays another slap across your ass.

“You’re not a little dove are you?” He growls as he fucks you.

“No,” you breathe. Barely able to form a thought.

“Tell me what you are.” He says, slapping your ass again.

“I’m yours. I’m your desperate, cock loving little dove.” It comes out as a whine, your orgasm growing closer.

He doesn’t stop pounding into you. “Fuck. That’s my good girl. You’re taking me so well.”

You can feel your arousal soaking the sheets below you, and hear the squelching as he fucks into you. You arch your back again so he can brush against that spot you love so much. He reaches under you, rubbing tight little circles on your clit.

“Oh….f-fuck.” You coo.

“Yea?” He taunts, “You like that? My rough fingers on your beautiful little cunt?”

His words send another rush of arousal to your core, this is wrong. You shouldn’t like this, but you’re not sure you’ll survive if he stops what he’s doing.

“N-no. Fuck you.” You try to sound mad but it hits his ears in breathy moans.

“My perfect girl.” He taunts, “Come on my big cock. Squeeze me with that tightly little pussy.”

Your vision blurs as you start to gush all over him. Your whole body tenses as wave after wave of pleasure consumes you, moaning and squealing like a woman possessed. Your legs shake so hard that you feel like you’re in the middle of an intense gym session. Slowly you gain control of your body again and he’s right, you’re ruined for all other men.

“Good fucking girl,” he says as he pulls out and climbs up the bed. “You’re so hot. Open your mouth for me, little dove.”

He pumps himself over you as you roll on your back and open your mouth. His strokes and breathing become erratic as warm ropes of come hit your tongue and face. He lets out a deep moan as he covers you.

He leans in a kisses your lips, not caring about the come on your chin or cheeks, the biggest smile crossing his face.

“Let me get you a face cloth, babe.” He says with a little laugh.

“Thank you, Joel.” You say with a wink. “And please untie me, my hands are asleep.”

He laughs, “I would, but I’m just your unskilled boyfriend now.”

He gently wipes off your face before reaching back and untying your wrists. He kisses them gently before laying back on the bed. “Was that ok?”

You curl into his arms. “It was perfect, baby.”

“Are you sure?” He squeezes you reassuringly. “You seemed genuinely scared a few times.”

“I told you I was in theatre in high school.” You laugh to yourself.

He chuckles deeply as he rubs your back. “I don’t think all of that was acting…”

You glance up to see him smiling at the ceiling, clearly very proud of himself for making you come so hard. “True, I think we need to change the sheets.”

Another gentle kiss lands on your forehead. “I love you.”

“You too, Joel. Very much.”

———————————————

Tags: @wannab-urs

#joel miller #joel miller tlou #joel x female reader #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fan fiction #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #pedro pascal #pedrohub #joel the last of us #joel tlou #joel x reader #joel miller x f!reader

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justblades · 11 months

Text

⌕ LUSTFUL REQUIEM, 18+

⟢ yandere! blade x afab! reader wc : 1.7k

⟢ cw : fxck buddy! blade, dubcon, cervix kissing, degradation, toxic themes, filming, choking, somnophilia

❝ you're merely a canvas, and his longings are stains— to etch on your skin that you are none other than blade's. ❞

blade is not one to typically fall for eye candies as if it was a part of his everyday routines, no one piques his attention nor does the male has his eyes set on a person. it was not until long once he gets a taste of flavors of lust: commixing together, making a concoction he would never forget, that one day, he decided to yearn for more.

every beginnings are sweet nothings that eventually become bitterly endings - one could draw that conclusion as scenes continue to unfold, blade's grasp on your wrists tightening as he bucks his hips upwards, thrusting into your slit with little to no difficulties.

adorned by your melting features are the weak sighs you let out everytime he slips his cock into you, sweat and drool racing down your dewed skin. "louder." his voice was flat and stern, an intonation that pierces through your wary self. you part your lips wider so more natural moans come out just as the male orders you to, a smirk of satisfaction following suit once his wish is finally fulfilled.

"were you moaning this loud for that asshole earlier?" another question rises from blade's dry throat, dehumanizing queries coming out one by one the longer the session prolonged. you shook your head vigorously and shut your eyes, but blade bucks his hips with more force now, his cock's tip eventually meeting with your cervix. "don't give me that nodding and shaking your head, i only take words for an answer."

his brows tightly knit, frustration seethes out of his gritted teeth. "answer!"

uncertainty fills your heart to the brim as you slowly take a trip down the memory lane, recollecting the events that unraveled earlier that lead to this now-present, once future.

crimson hues seep out of the man's wounds, several of his teeth had fallen out already - his body failed to keep himself stable and the navy haired across him doesn't falter. he only continues. "i can do this all night." blade says with utmost confidence lacing his words, the bandages of his hand come undone, revealing such deep wounds that seemed to have never recover.

ah. you understand a part of blade's destructive behavior now. the reason he's like this was because you slept with another man behind him— "fucking slut. how could you do that to me?" he lets go of your wrists for a short moment, only for them to land back on the silhouette of your waist, cupping the margins to make your body shudder the deeper he pushes in- "come on. rock your hips like how you did as you fucked that loser."

it was only a connection solely established to cope with ephemeral temptations. shortlived feelings yet the hardest to resist is what describes lust best, especially for two beings who feed on nothing but these urges. it was a mutual bond, a shared understanding to not be cuffed by the confinements of this relationship, but blade crossed that fine line like it was a a puny boundary for him.

you should've known from the beginning. you should've been able to discern from the way his glassy eyes scrutinize your appearance everytime he realizes you just got back from the hands of another man. you should've been able to know from the way the words roll out of his tongue when he speaks out of frustration, no rational thoughts behind those lashed out actions.

amidst of all of that - it feels good to be filled to the brim by your fuck buddy's dick. regardless of how he beat the guy you were with into a pulp with no hopes of recovering, here you are, basking in the pleasures intercourse with blade had to offer. it felt gratifying, but it's also heavily contradicting.

the same hands he use to inflict wounds on people who got close to you are the same hands now gradually becoming tender in his touches as he pounds into your velvet walls - blade picks up this little detail, a sneering smile replaces his scowl in an instant. "are you feeling good now?" he leans to your face, the tall bridge of his nose few inches away from yours.

your eyes burn in crystalline reflections, perfectly reflecting blade's image as he presses his lips onto yours, tongues next in action, twisting and twirling altogether— fighting for dominance. "h. . hmm." you hum as a response, much to blade's delight. he quickly breaks it off however, a hoarse chuckle slips out next.

"i've become so whipped for you," blade muses, catching you off guard. he bats his long lashes as he trails your facial features up and down. "i can't bear the thought of anyone else fucking you like this." his dominant hand at present cups your cheek, the thumb finger drawing viscules on the dampened skin. blood rushes into your cheeks as you mewl at how his grip once more tenses, "at last, i can call you mine now." his smile felt rather eerie that you could only return a mere "huh?"

he shifts his gaze elsewhere, a coy smile replaces the eerie one in a blink. "i can't believe my fantasies are finally coming to real life." a crease between your brows forms but the male has your body flipped in 20 machs speed, your back now lays flat on the matress while his cock is nestled in between your lower lips, he rocks his hips forward to make friction, another string of mewl escaping past your mouth.

"but . . but didn't we agree there's no strings attached in this?" the atmosphere grows suffocating, blade's looming presence tripled, leaving no room for you to breathe. a click of tongue then chimes into your ears, "those agreements hold no meaning any longer. i've fallen for you . . and you have too. right?" the airway from your throat proceeds to become scuffed as his two hands wrap around the part, "b-blade i can't b—!"

he reinserts his cock back into your entrance and your cunt gladly accepts his intrusion, clamping around his shape as he continually molds your insides. "say you're mine. say only i have the privilege of relishing you like this."

'blade has gone insane', is what you thought upon hearing those bizarre words of choice. you're starting to fear for your life underneath the contrasting touches of your sexual partner, you had no choice but to fall prey to his temptations. his navy dipped scarlet strands tumble on his shoulders in every thrusts he does, he sports a look you've never seen before: a predatory gaze as he watches your lust ridden body, "i-i'm yours. . i'm all y-yours!" you yelp.

you could only hope he gives you a slack, even just a minute would be nice to indulge without him bombarding you with insults and offensive questions. "finally." he rejoices with another arrogant smile, solferino irises turning inwards at the halfhearted sentence that rang to his ears like sweet tones.

"ride me again." for the nth time, he commands you once more. you could feel all the fatigue gnawing at your bones, unable to register how much energy the mental state can drain oneself. blade sees you struggle and he helps you get into position with the help of his fists on your feet, "no, turn the other way around."

your back faces him while your hands are propped on his sculpted, bandaged thighs. this position out of the dozen ones you've already tried with blade strikes you as the most embarrassing one. your legs continue to tremble as you try to keep yourself up, but only now a late realization dawns in your mind as you get a clear sight of what's placed in front of the cabinet across the bed: a cellphone camera accurately leveled to catch both your bodies in one frame.

"hah, you just saw that now?" he pants as he reinserts his dick back into your entrance, your pussy spasms from being ravaged by his cock. "it'll be for our eyes only. i can never share such intimate moment with others, they're simply undeserving."

you wished that reassurance could've ceased your worries, but it didn't.

"this video will be our proof of love and my proof of property of you. this day marks my ownership of you." he murmurs, his deep voice meshes with the squelching sounds emitted from his cock kissing your pussy, and the jagged breathy mewls. "i'm so delighted all of my hardwork paid off, mmh. . ." low moans continue to bubble from his throat, his fingers sinking deep to your body.

"i don't want to share you anymore."

"those days are long over."

"hmph, are you listening?"

blade ascends from his position only to see your passed out state - he cracks a hoarse chuckle afterwards, seeing your frail figure right in the solace of his arms.

"this is fine. i can still worship your body regardless of your consciousness." he murmurs to himself, readjusting your position laid back again in the soft cushions. he coils his hands around his dick, tightening his grip to merit himself waves of pleasure. "ah, haah, i feel so good." blade's guttural moans bounce off the room's four walls, the male then swiftly rubs his tip on your entrance, and with little force, it slips back in. "i'm happy. i . . i know you are too."

all blade is a filth of sorrow, regrets and sadness. growing up, he never understood the charm of owning something. he'd always watch by the windowsill, a blank expression carved on his face, seeing children around his age gleefully claim what's theirs. perhaps . . his upbringing was molded that way for today. for today, he finally owns something now. something that fills the cup of his heart to the point that it's overflowing - something that could satisfy his perpetual yearning.

it is no doubt he'll never let go of you now— at present, you're nothing but a bird inside of a rotten cage. you're merely a canvas, and his longings are stains— to etch on your skin that you are none other than blade's.

that you're merely a timeless fodder for his everlasting hunger: a hunger to own and a hunger to love. at long last, he finally has one.

"i really love you."

A/N : the upbringing part is just my own and obviously not canon, it's more to expound on how he became a yandere for reader ^^ my masterlist !

#blade x reader #honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader #honkai star rail blade #blade x reader smut #hsr x reader smut #honkai star rail smut #honkai star rail x reader smut #hsr blade

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lokisgoodgirl · 6 months

Text

Harvest: The Lakes [Loki x Reader]

The Lakes Masterlist / Regular Masterlist Summary: (7) Fresh off Loki's revelation, its time to save Colin Robertson. Oh...and some other things too, I guess. Warnings: Minors DNI. Ex-Loki (?) Language. Mild angst. Plans and smug rehashing of plans. Soft smut. Domestic fluff. Sassy Satchel. (w/c 6.2k) Recommended Folklore Track: Invisible String

Despite protestations, Steve had set up a perimeter and concocted a list of bird-themed call-signs. He walked thirty meters ahead of you and Loki.

Every ten paces, the captain spun in a shifty circle and beckoned you on. “Oh, for goodness sake,” Loki grumbled as he re-hoisted a limp Colin Robertson across his shoulders. The man was drooling on him.

Thor brought up the rear of the rudimentary formation, ambling at the back with his hands in his pockets. The hat was still drawn low over his brow. “He feels awful,” you muttered. “As he should,” Loki said stiffly. “Thanks to him, this mortal finds himself at the mercy of another of his cunning plans. A perilous state indeed.” “You care,” you mumbled with a gentle smile. Loki narrowed his eyes playfully. “I shall have to dial it back a little, lest I become soft.” “Not much chance of that,” you whispered to yourself. Out the corner of your eye, you saw Loki smile.

From ahead, Steve released a strangled caw.

“What one’s that?” Loki drawled. The tap of Colin’s dead-weight hand sounded against his back with every step.

You frowned, looking around. “People? Aircraft? I can’t remember.” “The car.” Loki said flatly, pointing to a bright blue blob in the distance. From behind them, a crunch of running footsteps approached. “Almost time for the commencement of the plan, brother.” “It’s a terrible plan.” Loki snipped. Thor rolled his eyes. “Ye of little faith,” he rumbled confidently. Ten minutes later, the five of you hung in various stages inside and outside the Fiat 500. Rogers had pushed the front seat as far forward as it would go, climbing in to the back. Loki was positioned already behind the passenger side, crammed against the wall. “Just put him in the trunk,” Loki chided for the fourth time. “Oh pish, Laufeyson” Steve snapped. “The man could have a spinal injury.” Loki threw up his hands in resignation.

You leant against the bonnet, one of Colin’s arms draped over your shoulder. The other hung around Thor. The man drooped between you like a scarecrow. “Places,” Steve announced confidently before his face lowered and he sidestepped into the Fiat backseat. All you heard were huffs from Loki as Rogers shuffled into the middle. It was going to be tight. You and Thor moved forwards, ignoring the sad drag of Colin’s walking boots on the dirt track. With a little manoeuvring, the hiker was deposited in the back seat. His face smooshed against the window, faint clouds of condensation forming on the glass.

“God, I wish I had my phone.” you murmured to Thor as you drank in the absurd sight. Loki was staring pointedly out the window, shoulders scrunched to take up as little space as possible. Rogers face had flushed, hoiking the unconscious man further on his side.

Thor chuckled, gripping the open door. He leant towards you conspiratorially. “Gird thy loins, sister” he hummed. You grimaced. The passenger seat was as far forward as it could go, with Thor’s knees drawn up to his chest.

You sighed as you slid into the drivers side. The muscled pressure of Loki’s legs protruded through the back of your seat. You cleared your throat, fiddling with the radio. “You do realise, that if the police stop us then we’re up shit-” “-crud,” Steve cut. “-crud creek without a paddle?” Loki snorted with genuine laughter. You bit your lip, realising that just maybe everything was going to be alright. And not just for Colin. “Onward!” Thor boomed. Everyone groaned, covering their ears.

You drove cautiously through winding one track lanes. The hedgerows were in full autumnal blossom now. Gold and burnt orange foliage simmered in speckled sunlight. In the back seat, Colin was stirring. “We don’t have much time,” Steve’s worried voice chimed. He stroked Colin’s cheek. “It’s alright, pal. We’ll get ya where you’re going.” In the rear-view mirror, you saw Loki throw him an incredulous scowl.

“Ye Olde Fighting Cocks,” Thor read as the swinging pub sign grew closer. He laughed to himself, slapping his knee and almost hitting his face on the rebound. “Just like us, brother.” In the back seat, Loki scoffed. “Let’s just get this over with,” he muttered. You pulled into the carpark. It was busier than you would like. “Okay, just like we talked about,” Steve started. “Thor – you commandeer a table outside. Away from any hubbub. Agent, you’re on drinks duty. Loki and I will position Mr Robertson and get the heck outta there.” Everyone mumbled agreement. It wasn’t perfect, but it was visible. And it beat leaving him on a hillside. Thor pulled his hat down, stuffing errant strands of sandy hair inside. He produced a pair of chunky sunglasses from the glovebox.

“Avengers…” he began with gravitas.

“Don’t.” Steve snapped.

As it transpired, the only hubbub in the beer-garden was an old man stubbing out a cigarette by the entrance. He narrowed his eyes suspiciously as Thor’s bobble hat poked over the hedge. You quickly made yourself scarce, walking inside the tavern and collecting as many glasses as you could covertly carry.

Sidling between tables of chattering locals, you squinted out a passing window. Thor was leaning awkwardly against a picnic bench. You saw a flash of movement in the bushes behind him as Steve and Loki emerged, shuffling forward in a squat position. Colin dragged between them. They hoisted him to sit at the table, flipping his legs over the bench. He slumped forwards. The last thing you saw was Thor attempting to prop a fist under his chin. He failed Sliding out the front door, you made your way quickly over to the scene and plopped seven glasses on the surface. “Let’s go,” you said. “Where is the ale?” Thor said, face falling. “We’re not staying, buffoon” Loki scathed as the four of you made your way quickly back to the car. “That defeats the entire purpose.” Thor pouted all the way home.

You had walked ahead from the driveway to the cottage door with your heart in your mouth. It had been a tense ride.

All you could hear behind you was Loki’s hushed overtones requesting privacy from the others.

Noting the tremble in your hands, you unlocked and walked inside. Keep it together, you chided as you slipped into the kitchen and sat at the table, fidgeting. The front door opened. It closed with a creak and a thunk. You tried to steady your breaths as Loki hung up his jacket before rounding the corner, smoothing his hair while he looked at the floor. Suddenly your fingernails became very interesting.

His towering figure occupied your periphery, hovering before he sat in the opposite chair. Looking up, your eyes met his. You offered a weak smile. Loki cleared his throat.

The chair leg squeaked. "I want to be myself. My core self. The one that swells in my roots, I suppose you would say." he said abruptly. The words were quick and cold. "That's what I was attempting to convey... back on the hill."

He seemed nervous. You didn't think you'd ever seen Loki nervous. It made you nervous. He cleared his throat again, features softening. “What I have come to realise” he continued carefully, brushing crumbs from the tablecloth, “is that being with you...I often felt like that boy at the cabin.” He looked at you, tilting his head. His mind was a million miles away, but somehow – it was the closest you had ever been to him. “Except I didn’t know what it was,” he continued wistfully.

“I felt safe. Free. It felt...strange. I fought against it, with my arrogance and my selfishness. Like a dog in a trap, I fought against it with the only tools I had.” You looked down at your hands again, heart sinking. “A trap?”

Loki sighed. “I cannot pertain to the logic. Only my feelings. It was self-preservation. Or so I thought.” “It sounds like self-sabotage to me,” you murmured gently, pressing your thumb into your palm. “Yes.” was all Loki said.

After a few moments he stood.

You braced as he took a step forwards, sinking slowly to sit on his haunches. Your gaze swung to his thighs, thick and straining against the creases of his trousers. “I can’t promise I’ll be perfect,” he murmured. There was a pause while the weight of his considerations hung in the air. “But for you, I would do anything in my power. You know that, don’t you?” Tears began to prick your eyes. You swallowed, words coming out as a tremble. “I never wanted you to be perfect, Loki. I only wanted to feel like we were equals.” Loki slipped his fingers into your open palm. “I know that feeling,” he crooned sadly, drawing your hand down. He stroked the skin, looking at it like it might evaporate in his hold.

A gentle press of his lips warmed your wrist. “Am I being presumptuous that you might consider a fresh start between us?” he said tentatively, raising his gaze to meet yours through a dark fan of lashes. “As your ‘girlfriend’?” you questioned. A smile twitched. Was this really happening? Your heart was thundering. “No, Madam” Loki scoffed playfully. “My consort of course.” Your smile grew wider. Loki pursed his lips, brows rising in expectation as he ran his nervous stare over your features. You bit your lip, searching his eyes for any hint of insincerity. But there was none. And somehow, you knew there wouldn’t be.

The hand not being held by his slid up the curve of his jaw. You lowered, pausing by his parted lips. The god’s breath hitched.

“Loki,” you pleaded, no more than a whisper.

His name held weight when you said it like that.

In an instant, Loki closed the space between you, his mouth fastening to yours with a gasp.

Without breaking the kiss he rose, pulling you with him.

His hands cupped your face, fingertips pressing into your hair while his tongue cautiously caressed against your own. It was pure fire, twisting and scorching the path of troubles behind you.

Your knees caught against the chair as he tried to walk you backwards, making you both stumble.

He broke, panting. “Apologies,” he muttered, catching his breath as his large hand centred on your back.

You looped your arms around his neck, memorising the look of abject relief in his eyes. Kissing him softly, you caught his bottom lip between your teeth. Loki’s eyes narrowed, a subconscious thrust of his hips against your stomach making your vision blur. “We should probably let them in now,” you said ruefully, glancing sideways to the closed door. “I was hoping you couldn’t hear them,” Loki sighed. ‘Damn you and your heavy breathing, Rogers’ Thor chided behind the peeling wood. Loki reached for the handle, a quick turn and release causing Steve and his brother to sprawl forwards face-first to the linoleum.

Rogers sat up quickly, brushing himself down as his guilty eyes swung between you. “It was his idea,” he said as he nodded to Thor. “How very dare you,” Thor boomed. “The God of Thunder does not sneak.” “Ain’t that the truth,” Steve snapped.

The two of them stood, awkwardly picking at their clothes. Around the same time, their eyes fell on the space between you and Loki. Thor’s arm shot out, the back of his hand slapping against Steve’s chest.

Their gazes widened in sync. “Holding...hands?” Thor gasped. He and Steve gaped at one another. Suddenly the entire kitchen became a hive of screeches as the two men grasped on to the others biceps, jumping in a circle.

You started to laugh, hearing Loki’s embarrassed chuckle beside you. “Why are they so happy?” you murmured to him. Loki shook his head. “My brother had a cunning plan, you see” he said as he raised your interlinked fingers with a knowing smile. “Hold up,” Steve interjected. His serious face was back. “I gotta take some credit considering it was my idea, Odinson.”

Thor laughed mirthlessly, throwing his head back with a shake of his hair. “I think not, Rogers. If anything your contributions were the seasoning.” “Seasoning?”” Steve balked. “It was my idea to get them up here in the first place.” Thor released a grimacing smile. He patted Steve on the back. “Perhaps now is not the time,” he muttered as covertly as a fart in an elevator.

You yelped as Loki sat at the dining table, pulling you onto his lap. “No, I think now is most definitely the time” he purred as he linked his fingers around your stomach. You’d forgotten how solid his thighs were. Almost. Steve’s cheeks flushed. “Well, uh…you see, it started way back when uh-” “-Well,” Thor interrupted. “Apologies, Rogers – but the tale requires gravitas.” Steve rolled his eyes, as the god continued. “Around two months ago when your incessant moods had reached peak insufferability, I invoked Rogers aid in a minor detail of the piece-”

“-I bought this place,” Steve butted sharply. “Well, Stark did.” You and Loki looked at each other, frowning. “We figured you guys needed to get away somewhere neutral. Something official to force your hand. Back to basics, somewhere Laufeyson could be pushed out of his comfort zone with a range of activities he felt were-” “-Beneath you, brother” Thor quipped smugly. “And in tandem with my cunning plan, it was fool-proof.”

The two of them folded their arms, their facial expressions hinting that they had explained everything. “Yes? And?” Loki probed lazily. The breath from his words flooded your ear, lips ghosting the shell. You wondered if he was listening. He placed an absent-minded kiss at the tip of your cheekbone, nuzzling gently. “From there it was quite simple, really- for a fellow like myself” Thor postured, looping his thumbs through his belt.

Loki rolled his eyes as his brother’s smug voice boomed around the kitchen. “One of the many times you fell asleep on my sofa after a night of ale and moaning about blowing it with this one” Thor thumbed to you; “you were mumbling about the cabin.” “I was?” Loki asked. Thor nodded. “And it made me ponder what you were like back then. The same, but different. Not as much of a little shit. I thought it was time you needed a more targeted reminder – for all our sakes. In a place like this, a place like the cabin. Kind of.”

You felt Loki inhale sharply, priming a barb. But he let it go. You felt the tension melt against your back as his hands clasped tighter in your lap. “Oh brother, I thought you’d really arsed it up with that stunt on our second evening” Thor chuckled, nudging Steve in the ribs.

“But your denial was rather a boon, Agent. A catalyst which timed well with Rogers and myself's light exploration of his foils earlier that night. Commendations, sister, for resisting my brother’s seductions. His cock is a wily adversary, I am sure.” You smirked as Loki’s inaudible laughter pulsed against your back. You’d missed this. “Tell them about the fire,” Steve whispered shyly. Thor’s eyes lit up.

“Ah, well...Rogers here had the rather genius idea of luring you both to the fireside. Nothing fans the flames like...well, flames. My brother has always been a lush for elemental theatrics.” Steve beamed with pride while your eyebrows rose. “And destroying my room and all my stuff was…?” The question lingered as Thor shuffled awkwardly. “Collateral damage, sister. We needed you out of that bedroom. I may have slightly overdone it.” “We thought you were ready,” Steve added. “I signalled with the flashlight when I thought the ol’ heart-to-heart had done the business and then…”

He and Thor nodded sagely to each other. “So were the two of you like...monitoring us?” you asked, glancing at Loki who was blushing faintly. “Of course!” Thor boomed. “The two of you were the true field operation. Well, in a roundabout sort of way.” Loki burrowed his face in the curve of your neck, a smile spreading against the skin. “What about the two of you?” Loki purred, resting his chin on your shoulder. “All smoke and mirrors like the rest?” Thor flapped his hand in the air as Steve bristled. “You need not know the details, brother.” he blustered. “What matters in that you stayed in that room. With her.” Steve’s face was a deep shade of crimson. “It had to be realistic,” he muttered, scuffing his shoe on the floor. “We got ya!” he added weakly. “So is what he’s saying...true?” you asked Loki. “Did it work?” Loki chuckled, bouncing one leg as he considered his answer. You jiggled, gripping his bicep for balance. He shot the men standing shoulder-to-shoulder above him a sharp glare.

“From the wreckage of my brother’s tenuous plot I did scavenge a solitary golden thread of wisdom, yes.” Thor released one of his arms from the fold, pointing a fist to the captain. Steve shook it. “I owe you ten bucks, Odinson” he said ruefully. “You owe me more than that, Rogers.” Thor winked. Steve cast an anxious glance to you and Loki, acknowledging your bemused smiles with a curt nod. He cleared his throat. “Time for us to make tracks,” he said.

You frowned. “But Steve, we have like... two more days here.” Thor laughed, doubling over. Rogers shook his head. “You have two more days here. We are going to the spa.” “The spa?” Loki spat incredulously. “Without me?!”

Thor shrugged. “If you wish to join Rogers and I for an ‘erbal wrap and sauna privileges you are most welcome to brother.” He tracked his gaze to you, sitting on Loki’s lap. “But something tells me you’d rather stay here,” he added softly.

Loki’s face burrowed into your neck again, nose grazing your collarbone. “Quite,” he murmured. It was meant only for you. In the following twenty minutes the blondes made quick work of packing their belongings. You helped Thor locate his various nick-knacks, strewn clothes and hair mousses; passing each of them in turn as he leant his bodyweight on a second suitcase.

The captain’s bags were stacked neatly in the corner. He was frowning at the tower. “I feel like I’m forgetting something,” he murmured, stroking his chin.

“The crisper,” you said, trying not to laugh. Steve’s cheeks flushed as your eyes fell involuntarily to his butt. “Been enjoying the freedom, Cap?” you giggled, tossing another bottle to Thor.

When the last suitcase had been stuffed into the beleaguered Fiat, the blondes returned inside. You and Loki had stood at the doorway of the cottage, watching them. It was meditative. Winding curls of burnt orange ivy rustled in the air. There was no rush.

You turned your face, brushing your cheek against the wool of Loki’s jumper. He rested his chin on your head.

As they approached, you pulled away from the god and let your fingers trail longingly over his stomach as you sank back to the hallway. Loki winked, a small smile flirting at his lip. The warmth flooding your skin could be magic, you were sure. But something told you it wasn’t.

Thor tugged the sides of his jacket. “I take it this highly successful endeavour means that you will be of more pleasant humour to everyone then,” he chuckled.

“Regrettably, for the foreseeable future I shall be targeting my efforts of self-improvement to our darling Agent, here.” Loki purred, zipping his brother’s jacket up over his mouth. “I’m sure you understand it’s a process.” “Just consider me your spiritual Sherpa, brother-” Thor continued un-phased against the muffler. “And Rogers too, to a lesser extent.” “The day I consider that, is the day I may be claimed by the sanatorium, brother” Loki smiled dryly.

“So you’re still gonna be a boob to the rest of us? That wasn't part of the deal,” Steve whined, releasing a low whistle of discontent. Loki shrugged. “Apologies, gentleman.” he smarmed, resting a hand on each of their shoulders. He tipped forward earnestly. “Although when it comes to mocking you both; I will do my utmost not to pick up the gauntlets of temptation you throw so effortlessly down.” The three of them looked between each other.

“Excellent!” Steve chirped, shuffling sideways between you and Loki. You followed as he rounded the corner to the kitchen. Making immediately for the fridge, the captain un-balled a Tesco carrier bag from his pocket. Leaning against the door-frame, you watched as Captain America gingerly slid open the crisper. His lips pursed, pressing inward. It was all you could do not to fall to the floor. He reached in, carefully picking out each pair of underwear and slipping them into the plastic bag.

“I can see you,” he grit, throwing a knowing look over his shoulder. “And I would appreciate if the events of this trip stayed between the four of us.”

“Come, Rogers!” Thor boomed as he snuck up behind you, drawing you into a bear hug. You thrashed against his chest, before sinking with a relenting sigh into his hold. “Sister,” he whispered gruffly through a smile as Steve bustled past to the car. “I couldn’t be happier for you both.”

Loki gave a final wave as his brother and Rogers drove away down the rickety path. Thor’s hair whipped around his temples, the window fully rolled down and his head sticking out. Loki smiled, chortling softly as he closed the door.

In the kitchen, he could hear mugs clinking.

He straightened the front of his jumper, tucking his hair behind his ears. “Right…” he breathed quietly. Loki paced cautiously into the kitchen, memorising the way the low amber sunlight bathed your skin.

A goddess, he thought. “My goddess,” he said.

You turned, surprise peaking your brows before you smiled. “Hey,” you murmured shyly. It made his stomach flip. Wiping your hands on the dishcloth, you turned. Without stopping to think, Loki strode forward and kissed you.

He didn’t want to think anymore. Not today. His tongue slipped easily between your lips, the only sound the careful wax and wane of delicate skin and the melody of gentle moans. His fingers curled around the counter-lip, caging your body as your hands slid up his sweater, tugging. There was a quiet groan as you pulled away, sucking his bottom lip between your teeth.

“I’m going to take a shower,” you said. There was a look in your eye Loki thought he would never see again. His stomach did another turn. “Oh. Of course,” he muttered politely, standing back. Fingers slid down the chunky knit of his arm, grazing over his hand. They toyed with his own as you began to walk to the door, throwing a seductive glance back over your shoulder. “Come with me?” Loki’s breath hitched. “I’ll be right behind you,” he murmured. He was sure the tremor of his racing heart could be heard in his voice. “I’d prefer face-to-face,” you winked before disappearing into the hall. Loki’s mouth gaped. The god heard the creak of the bathroom door, the thick splash as water hit the tub from on high. It’s happening, he thought; amazed.

In this unfamiliar landscape stripped of all ornament. In the wreckage of his brother’s clumsy attempts at mischief, he had found what his heart had been search for; slipping against walls of his cluttered mind. A second chance. Loki did some quick calculations, finding his feet drawing him already up the stairs. He was certain that you weren’t on birth control, he remembered hushed whispers overheard between you and Wanda months prior. At the time, it had made him very happy indeed. He was even more certain he didn’t wish to enchant you – that was a conversation for a later time.

Nerves fizzed in his stomach as he pushed open the doorway to his brother and Rogers room. Where are they? Loki cursed every creaking footstep as he picked his way around the room, but what he sought was nowhere to be seen. Steve had stripped the bedsheets, leaving them folded in military position at the foot of the bed. The god peered beneath pillows, under the mattresses. He frowned. A minute later, he pushed the door of his own room ajar. And there, on the pillow, was a box.

A yellow post-it note was stuck jauntily to the centre. Loki whipped it up with a flourishing snap, holding it at arms length as he peered down. A gift, it read. Love you Little Brother, Thor :) xx x “I bought them,” Loki grumbled, picking up the box.

It was open.

He pulled out a set, splitting them in two as he released a quaking sigh. Tossing the chosen one on the bed, he slipped the extra back in its home. Nine remained.

We might need to go to that shop again, Loki mused as he picked up the solitary condom on the bed. He held it up to eye-level, thumb pressed against the foil centre as he steadied himself. “Loki?” you cooed from downstairs. Your voice was an angelic echo, misting through tile and steam. He shuddered, cock pulsing against his trousers. He made his way carefully down the steps, memorising the way the wooden banister glided and caught against his skin. If I could live in a memory, Loki pondered as his fingers pressed against the ajar bathroom door, it would be this one.

Rich golden sunlight flooded the room from the tiny window. The ageing white tiles and fittings were perfected in its amber glow, porcelain glinting with an asgardian sheen under nature’s filter. Behind the shower curtain, you were humming; a splatter of water from your wet hair hitting the base. Loki cleared his throat.

Your face appeared, clutching the thin shower curtain by your chest. You were smiling, eyebrows raised expectantly.

“Is the beige a permanent feature of your wardrobe now? Because if it is then I may need to rethink this whole thing.”

Loki’s arms crossed immediately, tugging the cable-knit over his head. It caught beneath his ears, the tinkle of your laugh singing against falling water. After a few seconds, the jumper was discarded by his ankles.

The god’s fingers flew to his belt, making quick work of the fastenings and pushing them to his feet. He hopped out of them, standing with a sudden flourish; shoulders rolled back. You looked from the pile on the floor to his eyes, one brow raised. “The old-fashioned way huh? That’s a first.” Loki cocked his chin. He bit his lip, enjoying the track of your gaze rolling hungrily down his naked body. One finger appeared from behind the shower-curtain, beckoning. With a heavy exhale, he stepped over the bath wall.

His cock slapped against his stomach, smacking the taut skin. You stood beneath the shower head, low pressure making it pour thickly to your skull before splitting to rivers down your back and chest. Loki swallowed. Water dripped in languid streams down your arms, trickling lazily through the part of your breasts. A droplet clung to your nipple, dangling as he would his tongue on the curve.

There was a quiet rip as he peeled the top of the foil square he held. Your eyes fell to the work of his hands, smiling as you savoured the journey back to meet his smoulder.

Loki gripped his cock, one slow slick of his fist all that was needed before he rolled the condom from the tip. He moaned, eyes fluttering closed as his grip tightened at the base.

Like a dream Loki found himself looming above you, the flat of his stomach pressed against the slick of your own. In seconds, his wetted body plastered to yours; his mouth swallowing against your open lips, his hands sinking into the glossed plump of your skin. Sighs mingled with steam as he moved you with ease against the tiles, the keening thrusts of your hips matching his own eagerness. Loki groaned as your digits curled around his throbbing cock. You released a dirty moan into his mouth as one finger slid between your folds. A growl bubbled in his throat at the feeling of your silken arousal hot against his fingers. Loki felt everything. The clench of your thighs around his wrist, the tug of his foreskin against your mound through latex, the depth of the longing in your kiss. Everything.

She is everything.

“-Wait,” he choked as he pulled away from the kiss.

Water hit the nape of his neck as he watched fear blossom in your eyes. Sodden tendrils of his hair curled against your collarbone. “Are you sure?” he swallowed. “About me-,” he finished, choking on the words. Your face softened. “It never ended for me, Loki” you whispered, barely audible against the water’s slap. He melted into the fingers sliding up the base of his skull. “It was always you,” he heard you say before pulling his mouth to yours. “It was always you,” he echoed between desperate kisses. Loki sank into old habits he could live with. With one hand steadying your waist, he drew your thigh to sit on his hip. A tremble ran up his spine as you manoeuvred his cock against your heat, the skim of your breath caressing his cheek.

And with a gasp, he pushed inside.

Loki’s hips nudged upwards, savouring the drag of your delicate walls wrapped around his length. It was more than he remembered. Or maybe that was new. But every clench of your sweetness around him, every slow tighten of his ass which rocked him deeper. Every moment burned with glittering with clarity, auburn leaves falling in slow motion. Your arms rested on his shoulders. Wet skin slurped as air pockets burst and kissed together. Water ran down, pooling against hands and lips and foreheads as it looked for any way between your bodies.

His name wisped in the steamed air; chanted from breathy moans and pitched sobs of pleasure. Loki could not recall when he had been happier. Perhaps, he thought, I never have.

But the only utterance he had strength for were broken syllables of your name.

Slowly he took you. Moulded to you. Melted into you. So slowly.

Your hands tangled in his soaking hair as Loki hoisted you higher. His hands slid beneath your ass, taking all the work as you slid back and forth along his length. He would never take the supple give of your skin as his tips sank deeper for granted again.

“Darling,” he sighed wantonly. It was punctuated with a slow roll of his hips.

Your eyes flew open, rolling back as your head tapped back against the tile. He kissed down the exposed length of your neck, slurping against rivulets that paved his path.

Waves of desire undulated in his belly, burning blood-red coals that radiated jolts of pleasure from the root of his cock. It pulsed with each measured clench of his ass.

They timed him perfectly, the stammering, gasping prayers of delight heralding your climax growing louder. Loki buried his face in your neck, softly biting up your throat.

“Darling,” he moaned repeatedly as his own orgasm reared. As if the loving word would disappear down the drain between his searching fingers. The invisible string that tied his heart to yours. It always had. You came with an anguished sob, fingernails digging into the meat of his shoulder-blades. One of Loki’s hands flew to the side, grasping slippery palms against tile before grabbing the curtain.

With the lightest of his tugs, the shower rail cracked. The palm flew above your head, smacking and squeaking down the grubby tiles as Loki felt his who body clench, trembling muscles tightening.

His foot slipped against the tub, the correction thrusting his manhood one final squeeze as he came with a crushing cry of your name. He juddered, the force of his cum filling the condom wrapped snug around his pulsing cock.

Your back began to slip down the wall, legs loosening their grip around his waist; spent. But Loki held you close. There was a dreamy smile on your face as your lashes fluttered, refocusing on him.

“I missed you,” you slurred while your fingers knotted through his hair. Water hit Loki’s back as he pushed you further against the wall with a rapturous kiss, wandering hands massaging the spill of your breasts. “I missed me too,” he breathed bitterly against your cheek. A finger trailed along his jaw, tipping Loki’s chin to face you.

“But I missed you more,” he whispered. And what’s more, Loki found, it was true.

The sun set, and then rose. Hours upon hours had passed, low afternoon sun spilling through the open curtains of Loki’s room. It was too cold to be anywhere else. But not in here.

You had lain tangled in each others arms, fingers grazing on skin between giggles and dozing and long conversations. And sex. Lots of sex.

His inhumanly long legs sprawled open. One lay bent, hanging triangularly over the side of the bed. You lay on your stomach, one hand propped beneath your chin while the other trailed lazily up and down your lover’s torso. His pale skin looked tan in golden sunlight. Loki watched you.

His eyes followed the path of your fingertips, pads dipping into every dent of muscle in their way which tightened and relaxed with each breath. Circling, dancing.

Loki shivered. A jolt of one knee rusted the bedsheet draped across his middle. You smiled, lowering to place a winding path of kisses as you edged the sheet lower. “We really should eat,” Loki murmured, stroking your hair as your lips kissed down his cock. You lingered on a taut vein, teasing your tongue along the pulse. What he meant is that you really should eat, but you appreciated the gesture nonetheless. It was the little things. Loki’s sharp inhale as you swallowed the tip made your stomach flip with pride.

His chin was pointed to the ceiling, muscles in his neck straining. Onyx hair flooded the pillow, his gentle cup of the back of your head vibrating with restraint. There was a rustle as the fingers of his free hand gathered the bedsheets in a fist, clenching and unclenching as you began to suck. “After…” he groaned with an attempt at authority.

With his cock stuffed in your mouth, you sidled over his leg, pushing his knees wider as you settled in. Your arms slid under his thighs, wrapping around him.

“After,” he gasped, before Loki Laufeyson turned to writhing slut-drunk pleasure beneath your touch.

On further investigation, it seemed you and Loki were shit outta luck.

The cupboards were bare, and it transpired that the Thor-decimated snacks you had grabbed last night between rabid lovemaking was the last of it. Loki spun, gripping the lip of the counter top. His neck was marred with purple bruises from your enthusiastic affections. They wouldn't last, but they looked so pretty while they did. “Let’s go for dinner somewhere,” he purred. You couldn’t help your snort of laugher. “What?” Loki coyed, pushing himself from the ledge. His hands slipped around your waist, grabbing your ass through the sweatshirt hanging down.

“It’s just...risky” you said, tilting your head. The two of you looked at each other.

You’d meant exposure. But sudden memories of every time you and Loki had gone out to eat flashed through your mind.

Selfies, a baying crowd desperate to touch him, autographs- on paper and skin. His endless adoration, drinking in the attention which fed his superiority complex like an assembly line while you faded from his mind. The Real World reared with the force of a slap.

“It won’t be like that again,” he murmured knowingly, tilting your chin up to face him. He gazed down through half-lidded eyes, frowning with sincerity. But he didn’t believe it. Not fully. And with trepidation, you realised, neither did you.

“Afternoon,” the waitress chirped as she handed you and Loki a menu. You thanked her nervously and pulled your cap down.

All around you was the polite buzz of conversation, local radio playing from a speaker behind the bar. Glass windows looked out onto the lake, endless sprawling water lapping at the shore beneath the window. The sun was beginning to set. Loki glanced upwards with a brief, dazzling smile. The woman’s eyes lingered on him as he ran a finger down the menu. They roamed up his arms, the chunk of cable-knit doing nothing to disguise the muscle beneath. On her gaze went, up the exposed curve of his lovebitten neck to the messy bun of dark hair knotted at base of his cap. Her stare widened.

Shit. You could tell the exact moment she clocked the infamous carve of his cheekbones as he sucked them in thoughtfully.

With a gasp, the waitress rocked back on her heels. “I hope you don’t mind me asking,” she whispered nervously, glancing between the two of you and then over her shoulder. “But are you…” she leant closer, using a menu to shield her face from view. “Loki...from the Avengers?” Loki’s eyes met yours.

The air tingled with her excitement, vibrating unspoken words and exclamations. Her cheeks were pink with embarrassment, or sudden lust. Or both. Maybe she writes fanfiction about him, you thought.

And as you looked at him, the realisation of this moment’s importance seemed to blossom in Loki’s eyes. An ache grew in your stomach.

Please, you screamed silently. Begging him. A vein in his temple twitched as he nervously adjusted his feet beneath the table. Despite her attempt at covertness, people were staring. A weak smile fluttered at your lips as the seemingly inevitable turn of events teetered on the precipice. First the pomp, then the ceremony of his public adoration.

It would break the dam. This week was different. But it wasn’t real life. You would sidle off to the shadows, wait and wilt as each and every person took their piece of him that he willingly gave.

As it always was, so it shall be.

Unless- Loki cleared his throat.

“Howay, man!” he balked in a bamboozingly accurate Georgie accent, incredulity feigned to perfection. “But I get it wi' that gadgie aw' the time.” The waitress laughed, fanning herself with a menu. “Oh,” she gasped through an awkward smile. “Well, -” she looked at you with a wink. “You’re a lucky one, miss.” Her footsteps retreated as you stared at the list of dinner options, not seeing a single one. Stunned, you felt Loki’s fingers curl around your hand. It was moist with anxious sweat against the menu.

He dipped his chin down, catching your eyes under the rim of your cap. His were wide and beautiful, the deepest, clearest blue you had ever seen. You felt breaths begin to quicken in your chest, tears of happiness threatening to spill over as his grip tightened. “No,” Loki murmured quietly across the table, the velvet tones of his own voice back in fully laden force. “I’m the lucky one.” Your breath hitched as he brought your knuckles to his lips. He lowered his gaze, pausing before raising it to slowly meet your own.

Sunset warmth cast golden hues against his skin, green speckles in his irises bursting in glittering sparks. He let your curled fingers rest against his mouth.

“I always was,” he whispered lovingly against the skin. And you believed him.

A/N: This series has given me SO much joy and I just want to say thank you to the people who've commented and reblogged your hearts out and just all-in-all love these fools as much as I do. I honestly truly wasn't expecting it. This won't be the last we see of this AU, I have something planned. But for now, I hope the story warmed you like some pumpkin-spice cocoa.

Tags @lokischambermaid @meowmeow-motherfucker @gigglingtiggerv2 @imalovernotahater @avengersalways @littledark11 @lokikissesmyforehead @simplyholl @fictive-sl0th @thedistractedagglomeration @loopsisloops @glitchquake @holdmytesseract @silverfire475 @fandxmslxt69 @morriggannlostinfandoms @marygoddessofmischief @xorpsbane @peacefulpianist @yelkmelk @wheredafandomat @mistress-ofmagic @acidcasualties @ozymdias @your-taste-on-my-lips @lokidokieokie @kikster606 @peachyjinx @tbhiddlestan83 @trickster-maiden @skymoonandstardust @justjoanne242 @thenotoriouserg @ladyofthestayingpower @wolfmoonmusic @brittbax @smolvenger @joyful-enchantress @kaleenjackson @fictional-hooman @kellatron55 @mrs-illyrian-baby @icytrickster17 @multifandom-worlds @muddyorbs @buttercupcookies-blog @megschaef98

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