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♡ 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐛𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐟𝐢𝐭𝐬
pairing: arthur morgan x fem!reader
summary: you and arthur are occasional lovers with no strings attached, except you caught feelings.
word count: 2613
tags: fluff, suggestive, love confession, high honor arthur, friends with benefits, fem!reader
warnings: nsfw/explicit content
a/n: I’ve been battling writer’s block due to perfectionism and decided to write a spontaneous oneshot as an attempt to pretty much break through it. It's not really a smut, just a fluff with suggestive aspects and nsfw setting. Found this idea sweet, hope you enjoy!
✮ masterlist
You and Arthur first met when he was drunk and while you usually steered away from drunk men, this one in particular caught your eye. For some goddamn reason you decided to take care of him as he sang to himself in the saloon, alone, almost picking a fight with one of the regular customers, if it weren’t for you getting involved.
He hadn’t even tried to touch you and overall he seemed to be safe to be around. You made him eat some food (though he protested, saying he’d rather dance with you) and drink some water, to make his hangover at least a bit better the next morning. Then you made sure he was sound asleep before leaving him in the hotel room, putting a little note on the nightstand saying his adaptation of the song about Otis Miller was by far your favorite.
The second time you met in the same saloon. Though this time he was still sober, with a beer in his hand, looking quite worn out after the day. He didn’t remember you that much but you explained and after realizing you were the stranger who took care of him and left his sick, disoriented self the note, he opened up to you more.
And after sharing a few drinks, that he insisted to pay for you, and some loose conversation, you ended up in that same room, this time with you both being tipsy and making out, after you made the first move and kissed him.
It was like you were obsessed. With the way his rough hands treated you so gently, how he towered over you with your back against the wall, how you found yourself enveloped in his strong arms or the deep low groans in your ear that sent tingles into your belly.
It progressed into something more regular. Both of you helped each other release all the pent up tension and forget about everything that was going on outside the bedroom. What happened in that hotel room stayed between the walls. The desperate kisses, muffled whines and hot touches, your bodies intertwined like stems of ivy. The hungry look in his eyes stayed ingrained in your mind, keeping you company during the nights you spent alone.
Arthur felt safe with you. After Eliza he was reluctant to do this type of thing again, but there was just something about you that set his whole self on fire and made it impossible to resist you.
There was a good hunting spot nearby and he liked to return there for that reason, or maybe, just maybe, it was also the way he stopped by at the saloon every time, searching the room for a familiar face as soon as he stepped inside.
This sort of relationship was unusual for you as well, but his touch drove you crazy. He was so gentle and rugged at the same time, so big and mysterious while having a soft side you got to see anytime he let his guard down.
You knew he was no saint. Though he never told you details, you assumed the law was after him, but your intuition let you relax in his presence and you leaned into the comfort, trusting that if anything, he would protect you rather than hurt you.
The connection was mostly physical but slowly, one night after another, he was taking a hold over your heart, as much as you denied it to yourself.
Until you were finally ready to accept it.
— ∽ ♡ ∼ —
“You… seemed… angry today,” you said between your breaths, lying with your back against the soft mattress and covered only by the thin layer of a blanket.
His eagerness today was really something, clutching the headboard as he pushed his hips against yours, making you lose your breath with every thrust. It seemed personal, like there was more tension to release than usually – and you were more than happy to give him the freedom.
A soft groan left his lips in an agreement, his lungs still trying to fill with air as he lay beside you, exhausted but satisfied.
You yourself were still in that sweet daze, your heart pumping warmth into your whole body and tingles dancing all over your stomach, a smile on your face you couldn’t hold back.
The soreness between your legs somehow felt so good, a reminder of this night that would stay even after he’s gone.
After a moment you rolled to your side, watching Arthur’s glistening face as he was covered in sweat, as much as you were. The loose strands of his hair were sticking to his forehead and a familiar warmth spread in your stomach as you imagined reaching out and brushing those strands back, gently caressing his cheek and planting a kiss on the little scar on his chin.
Yes. You were pretty much screwed.
He turned his head to look at you and caught your gaze, silently reciprocating it and giving you a perfect view at his greenish blue eyes. He looked so vulnerable in that moment it tugged at your heart, wanting nothing but to embrace him in your arms.
But you had no idea how he felt and you didn’t want to make a fool out of yourself.
“I uh…” Arthur cleared his throat, turning away to hide the blush creeping up his cheeks. “Lemme clean this up.”
Your soft gaze followed him as he held onto the cloth and as his eyes asked for consent before he lifted the blanket and gently wiped the stickiness from between your thighs.
You didn’t even try to hide your red cheeks, the situation making it seem more than understandable. You wondered whether he realized how sweet this was of him, how much it made you fall in love even more.
You were both silent and the air felt thick between you two, as if there were many things left unsaid and it made the silence louder.
You never knew but always wondered what ran through his mind after your shared intimacy, how he felt, what was the mysterious gleam in his eyes as he watched you hot and sweating beside him.
When he was done, you sat up with the blanket over you again, watching his flexing muscles as he turned away from you, giving you a perfect view at his back.
Arthur lit himself a cigarette, breathing out soft clouds of smoke that floated up towards the ceiling. He sat back, feeling nothing but lightness and comfort inside.
He turned his head to look at you and found you already watching.
“Ya want a drag?”
“Sure,” you accepted, holding the blanket over your chest as you leaned forward. Instead of taking the cigarette from him as he expected you to, you left it between his fingers and simply wrapped your lips around its end while he held it out for you.
You gently put your fingers around his wrist instead, letting him watch you a little surprised.
Leaning away, you fought back the irritation in your throat and turned away from him, tears forming in your eyes. With your mouth at the crook of your arm, you broke into a violent cough.
“Not used to it, huh?” Arthur lightly mocked you, bringing the cigarette back to his own lips as he watched you struggle to gain composure.
You turned to him with teary eyes, laughing at his snicker. “I can’t be good at everything, cowboy.”
After a few moments your breath finally steadied and you found Arthur lost in thought when you looked back at him. Studying his side profile without him taking notice as he continued to smoke, something occupying his mind.
You caught yourself wishing for those hands to hold your hips instead like they did just half an hour ago. For his bare chest to be pressed against yours again, to have his lips on your own. It was like an addiction.
Having him sit beside you like that, naked, turned you on all over again.
He had no idea how much he had you wrapped around his finger.
You cleared your throat, moving your gaze before he could catch you drooling over him.
“So uh… I’d like to ask something of you.”
He looked at you with surprise in his face, curiously turning his whole body towards you.
“Huh, what is it?” he asked in a relaxed tone, shifting closer to you.
You chuckled under your breath as you turned to reach for your satchel lying beside the bed and pulled out a folded paper.
You slightly shook your head at how silly this was, but handed Arthur the paper along with a pencil nonetheless, a grin on your face.
“I’d like an autograph please,” you said playfully, making sure he knew this was a harmless request from you. Lying back, your eyes followed him as he unfolded the paper with one hand, a wave of shock stunning him as he stared at his own wanted poster.
He immediately searched for your eyes, puzzled by the gesture, frowning in confusion. But the soft features of your face and relaxed body language calmed him. You were just playing around.
Now amused, he chuckled, looking back at the paper in his hand. “Where did ya get that?”
There was a hint of insecurity in his voice. Now there was no doubt you knew about him being a criminal. You had an evidence in your possession and yet you were still here, in the same bed, naked, your skin still hot from his touch.
“On a business trip. Seems you’re quite a celebrity.” You grinned, moving closer as you looked over his shoulder at the drawn outlines of his face.
“You’re prettier in real life, trust me.”
He softly huffed at the compliment, hoping you wouldn’t notice his flushed cheeks. But you did and found it endearing.
“So… you gon’ collect that reward?” he asked, a joking tone in his voice though he kept his gaze fixated on the poster.
You chuckled. “No, no, I don’t think I’d stand a chance against someone built like you, besides, I don’t usually sleep with people I plan to turn in to the law.” You kept the playful attitude, pointing to the pencil in his hand. “Come on, sign it. I’ll keep it as a memento.”
“This?” He seemed amused by the idea, not grasping why you’d possibly do such thing.
He turned around to stub out his cigarette, his thoughts an entangled mess. Did you really not mind? He almost spiraled into overthinking as he stared back at his effigy, paired with a ‘wanted’ and a fair sum of dollars in bold. He wished he could make this part of him disappear, especially around you.
“Sure. I don’t have your photo, so…” You were clearly still joking with your lighthearted tone, little did he know there was truth in it. You planned to keep that poster, safely hidden away, as a way to keep something as a reminder of him. Was that silly?
He chuckled again as he put the pencil against a corner of the poster, scribbling down his name in neat, pretty letters.
Arthur trusted you, knew you wouldn’t misuse it. Your eyes were too honest and your physical intimacy too passionate for that.
You thanked him as he handed it back to you, giddily putting it aside and giving him a big smile.
“I must assure you,” you started teasing him, “that this is my first time being involved with an outlaw. You’re not a threat to me, are you, Mr Morgan?”
“Well that depends,” Arthur answered with the same kind of mischief, a playful gleam in his eyes as he turned to his stomach and lay close to you, his breath warm on your face.
“Depends on what?” You held back a laugh, enjoying the mood of the conversation.
“I’ve made ya scream before.”
“Oh, shut up.” You gently hit his arm with your palm, a laugh escaping your lips this time, making the outlaw laugh with you.
“You know, you’re not quite that threatening,” you said, still smiling, purposefully teasing Arthur who furrowed his brow in confusion.
“Am not?”
“No. Unless you attack me with your kisses, that is.”
“You haven’t seen the things I’ve done, woman.”
“No, but I’ve certainly felt some other things.” Without thinking you hurriedly planted a kiss on his scrunched nose and turned your bare back to him, sitting on the edge of bed as you reached for your clothes scattered around the floor.
Arthur lay back with his arms behind his head as he continued to rest in bed, watching you put on your clothes, though quite messily, and your hair that stayed tangled despite you running your fingers through it.
You let out a soft sigh as the room got filled with comfortable silence, yet it made you nervous to the core.
You were in love and you usually weren’t afraid of expressing your feelings. But now it felt so intimidating, so risky.
“Arthur…” you said with seriousness in your tone this time, quiet and hesitant enough to pique Arthur’s interest. He sat up straight in bed and you looked back over your shoulder, catching him as beautiful as ever.
Lit by warm candlelight, you couldn’t help but let your eyes wander over his bare skin. The broad shoulders, though slouched in relaxation, his chest and flat stomach, small scars all over his exposed arms. The way the blanket lay casually over his lap brought warmth into your cheeks and you bit your lip as you remembered the events of just a little while ago.
You looked at his hands, his knuckles bruised and his fingers holding the sheets. And finally his face, curiously watching you with something in his eyes that you couldn’t quite identify. His light brown hair that you loved seeing this ruffled and messy. He really was so beautiful.
“I think…” You tried to swallow the dryness in your mouth, your palms sweating as you struggled to hold eye contact. “I caught feelings for you, Arthur.”
There. You said it. And you felt like a fool.
Your cheeks were now red and you felt a pit in your stomach, not quite believing you just said it out loud. You knew you wouldn’t have it in you to say it again.
You avoided his gaze, having no idea what his reaction was, the little moment of silence felt like an eternity to you.
“You… did?” There was disbelief in his voice and it made you shift nervously, taking a deep breath as you seemingly forgot to breathe.
“Yes.”
The silence became unbearable. You didn’t know how he looked at you, too scared to see the expression of his face and too embarrassed to meet his eyes.
“I have feeling for you as well, (y/n).”
Your eyes widened in surprise and your heart jumped in your chest as you turned around, joy spreading through your veins.
You searched for any sign of deceit in his face, but there was none. He sat there looking completely vulnerable, honest, defenseless, his cheeks pink as he watched you back.
You rushed towards him, cupping his cheeks before connecting your lips in a long sweet kiss. Arthur wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close against his body as he lovingly pulled at your lips, softly breathing into the kiss with a sense of relief.
Slowly you put his weight on him, making him fall backwards little by little until his head lay on a pillow underneath you.
He broke the kiss, looking up at you with dilated pupils and flushed cheeks. “‘M the only one undressed here.”
You grinned at him, not moving a single inch as you kept him locked under you. “I don’t mind.”
With a kiss you muffled his laugh, a wide smile on your own face.
“So… how ‘bout I join you on your hunting trip tomorrow?” you proposed, hope in your eyes.
“Sure.” Arthur chuckled at your excitement, finding the spark in your eyes adorable as he caressed your cheek. “But I ain’t much of a good hunter.”
“That’s okay.” You kissed the corner of his mouth. “Me neither.”
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A Court of Thorns and Roses Characters
Artist: @/eburnsillustrations
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no resistance [kinktober 2023: fingering]
See the full Kinktober 2023 Collection here! See my full list of works here!
Summary: President Loki fires his assistant for booking an interview gone horribly sideways and hires you in her place.
Pairing: President Loki x Reader
Word Count: 7.4k [prepare drinkies and snacks accordingly]
Warnings: 18+ | smut (minors & pearl clutchers, be gone. i won't ask again); fingering; dirty talk; most likely inaccurate depictions of what a day in the White House looks like; improper use of the Oval Office desk; a handful of cuss words [let me know if i missed anything!]
Things to be aware of: power dynamic (she's his assistant); mentions of Natasha, Bucky, Morgan, and Steve if you squint; bit of a makeover trope towards the middle of the story; Reader is mid to late 20s
Dick-tionary (aka smut guide): smut starts at "He worked his hand back under" and ends at "When he pulled his digits"
"I uhh…I think that's all the questions I have for this interview. Thank you so much for your time, President Loki, and I wish you the best of luck with your re-election campaign."
The journalist, if she could even be called that, fidgeted the slightest in her seat, her discomfort evident from both the motion and the expression on her face. As if she knew that the god-president was now quite cross with her, and much deservedly so.
As if she knew she spoke out of turn in this interview that was so graciously granted to her.
"My security will see you off the premises. Good day, madam."
He exited the room with a slight swish of his coattails, striding down the halls with a fury now directed at his assistant rather than the would-be journalist. Once the offending individual had been located, there was a meek, fearful look on her face as well.
"Boss," her voice wavered. "Your forehead vein's making an appearance again…"
"Clear your desk. Today is your final day on my team." His voice rang out and echoed all over the floor of the campaign headquarters, most of the staff raising their heads and peering from awkward angles to have a view of the commotion.
"But Boss, you said you wanted to connect with the younger adult audience and capture their votes. Miss Lewis has an audience right smack in that demographic, her videos get millions of views, I don't understand--" She let out a frustrated huff. "An interview with her could secure you a good few million votes in your re-election. From fresh voters who've just registered and are undecided. She could bridge the gap that makes you seem so unrelatable with the digital age--"
"That woman that should never dare call herself a journalist asked me to confirm the measurements of my phallus because it appears that that is the dominating question her audience had for me," he snapped, rendering the former assistant quiet.
"I--I'm sorry, Boss. I didn't know--"
"No. No you did not. It is clear that you did not do ample research on how this Miss Lewis conducted her behavior and what type of a strategy she would likely use to bridge this so called gap of relatability. I have let a good few shortcomings of yours slide since the beginning of this campaign season in hopes that you simply needed to find your footing. But time is running short and frankly so is my patience. I no longer have leniency to spare for incompetence, especially from people that work too closely with me. Pack your belongings, I expect you out within the hour. Security will triple check for any information you may try to smuggle out of the premises, so I suggest you do not even attempt it."
She let out a sound of utter disbelief. "And how exactly do you expect to replace me on such short notice? The press will see when I'm not in your entourage at the briefing tomorrow morning."
"I assure you, it will not be such an impossible feat to replace the likes of you. Now if I were in your shoes, I'd hasten my movements. The hour will tick by before you know it."
Members of Loki's security kept a close watch on her to ensure that she only vacated her desk of her personal belongings. Checking every item she placed into her purse if there were scribbled secrets or supporters' contact information that might give the opposition some sort of an advantage over him.
Once they were positive that there was nothing she held on her person that could even remotely sabotage his re-election campaign, he had her escorted out of the building.
Now on to finding his new assistant. Preferably someone with a sensible enough head on their shoulders that they would at least do a rudimentary background check on who would be conducting the interview before writing them a gate pass and allowing them into such a private space.
Loki took a glance at the small pile of papers that his former assistant left behind. One had numerous strikethroughs and comments scratched on so harshly there were indents on the paper from whoever was wielding the bright fuchsia-inked pen.
Boring as all fuck, this isn't the aesthetic that we're going for. Try again, Y/N, the feedback read. The suggestion held the name of a creator whose content focused on documentaries centered on powerful individuals that have leveraged their platform in a negative manner. That perhaps this journalist could interview him and ask questions that touched on his past before he arrived on Earth and even some of the myths that surrounded his time on Asgard.
The president snapped his fingers at the nearest staff member, beckoning him over with an impatient flick of his fingers. "Which one of your colleagues is Y/N? Point her out to me."
The staff member raised a shaking hand, pointing in the direction of your desk. "O-Over there, Mi--Mister President, Sir," he stammered, mentioning your full name before Loki motioned for him to return to his seat. He took a good look at you, phone clipped between your ear and shoulder while you wrote something down on paper, the concentration written all over your face as you proceeded with your work.
"Yes I'll be sure to keep your contact information on file and forward your request for interview. You'll hear from us soon about schedules and logistics," you told the other person on the line with a smile stretched across your face that was so obviously strained, he could imagine your cheeks were beginning to smart from holding it.
He watched you work for a few more moments, your side of the conversation giving enough away for him to figure out you were speaking with a representative from Stark Industries. Something about a partnership to provide free sustainable energy to the impoverished communities throughout the country.
"We're very much looking forward to speaking with you in more detail about your proposals, Miss Stark. Thank you so so much for taking the time to answer my call, we'll be in touch soon." You took your little pencil and used it to twist your hair out of your face, your strained smile finally dropping. "Sorry I probably won't be able to call though because the president's PA is a complete ditz that'll reject my request because it doesn't go with the aesthetic," you grumbled, imitating his former assistant's tone toward the end and bringing an amused smile to the god's face.
"Miss Y/L/N," he called out to you, his tone uncharacteristically soft. Despite it, however, the sound of his voice still caused you to start in your seat.
Your expression morphed into a grimace, sucking in air between your teeth, looking defeated. "Good afternoon, Sir," you spoke, your words shaking with obvious fear. "You…heard me mocking your assistant, I apologize nobody was meant to hear that. I'll uhm…I'll clear my desk, it was an honor getting to work--"
"Hold on a moment there, darling, you're not in any trouble." He approached you with his hands held out and open in an attempt to tell you you had nothing to fear. "It was…quite an accurate depiction, if we're being honest. Hardly a mockery. I've erm…I've actually come here to speak with you about some of the interview requests you'd sent in prior to today."
He held up some of the scraps of paper in his hand, each of them containing your handwriting and his previous assistant's caustic feedback in the obnoxious fuchsia ink she insisted on using. "They were all rejected," you offered lamely, grimacing again as you squirmed in your seat.
"They're also quite clever. Intelligent, even." Your head snapped up at the compliment, a mixture of shock and satisfaction on your face as you looked at him. Your grimace had given way to a tiny endearing smile, a tinge of pink now in your cheeks. "Had my itinerary been comprised of these instead, today might have turned out to be more productive."
Your eyes widened to the point he worried they might pop out of your head. "The Lewis interview pushed through today?" He nodded once, a look of pity now painting your features. "I am so terribly sorry I sent over my research on her content but--"
"My former assistant likely shredded your findings," he finished, sitting slightly at the edge of your desk. "It's alright, Y/N, I don't hold you responsible for any of today's shortcomings. I see the efforts you've taken to enrich this campaign. Shamefully quite late, but I see them now. Hopefully moving forward we could work together to correct your predecessor's oversights."
"Wait, hold on…former assistant? Predecessor? Sir what--"
"I'd like to offer you a promotion of sorts. I'm in need of a new assistant, seeing as I fired the last one today for organizing an interview so brazenly invasive I might as well have taken the meeting completely nude."
"Well I'm sure Ms Lewis' audience would've loved that--" You stopped your words short, looking as if you'd bit your tongue. "Sorry I shouldn't have--"
"I'm sure they would have," he chuckled, leaning in the slightest to get a better look at you, finding himself surprisingly looking forward to what the next few days would bring, seeing your face more often as well as the potential of a better workflow considering that you seemed to be more focused on substance over appearance. "Take the rest of the day to familiarize yourself with the new workflow, as well as my itinerary. I'll defer to your judgment to rearrange or outright cancel any upcoming interviews as you see fit. I'll meet with you a half-hour before breakfast for a debrief on any changes you've decided on."
He barely gave you any time to nod your head in agreement before he reached for your hand, raising it to his lips and placing a delicate kiss on the back of your hand.
"I look forward to working with you, Y/N."
Your first few days working for President Loki had passed in a blur, working tirelessly to rearrange his schedule and maintaining a correspondence with the content creators that your predecessor had arranged interviews for. Spinning tales of how hectic the president's schedule had become on such short notice and therefore their appointments with him would have to be rescheduled at a later date.
A later date that probably would never come, considering that most if not all of the planned interviews conducted their business similarly to the one that effectively got his former assistant fired within the hour. You made a small note in your own binder that perhaps when he'd secured his re-election, they could be granted access among the crowd of reporters during larger press conferences.
"Maybe if you're among hoards of other reporters, you can keep your thirst in check and actually act like respective, decent human beings. Not asking about dick measurements like you're asking about the weather today. Thirsty idiots…" you grumbled, writing another name into the list.
"If that list gets any longer, you may need to have a rotation schedule, sweetling." You jumped at the sound of the president's voice coming from so close behind you, peering over your shoulder to find that he stood near enough that you could almost feel the heat radiating from his body. "Are these all the ones you'd rescheduled from the prior calendar?"
You mutely nodded, swallowing your nerves before speaking. "All the ones so far," you clarified, clicking away at your computer to show him the packed and borderline overbooked schedule that was formerly planned for him. "I made sure to go for the ones planned in the next few weeks first so that they at least have enough time to reallocate their time somewhat. There's about six more weeks worth to sort out."
"Excellent work," he told you, his voice even closer to your ear now that he was leaning over your shoulder to peer at the schedule on your monitor. "And what does my schedule look like for today, Y/N?"
You clicked to this week's view, taking a cursory look at the calendar. "After the press briefing, you have a lunch meeting with the Department of Defense along with one of the directors of R & B Weaponries, a Mr Barnes, to discuss about a new ammo supplier for the Navy forces and your own personal security detail."
He nodded along with your summary, the citrusy leathery scent of him wafting into your space and making you a touch dizzy from his onslaught of your senses. You just had to smell immaculate on top of looking like sex on legs, you hissed inwardly, biting down hard at the inside of your lip to keep you from saying a word aloud.
"And will you be joining me in this luncheon?"
Your eyes widened at his question. Of course you wouldn't be. The information to be divulged in such meetings should be something heard only by the president or those he deems closest to him. You were his assistant, nothing more. All you needed to know were names, dates, and overall points of discussion.
"I uhm…no. I don't--I don't believe I will be," you stammered, your breath hitching when he turned his head to look at you and suddenly you could feel his warm breath on your cheek. "Personal assistants aren't usually included in the guest list for these events," you offered in a lame attempt at explaining a question he didn't even ask.
"You are now. We'll leave at a quarter to noon." He began to walk out of the office, only halting to look at you over his shoulder when you let out a tiny squeak like you were about to protest. "Are you opposed to this new arrangement, sweet mortal?"
"Uhh--" You took a breath, composing yourself. "No, Sir. I'll call the restaurant to update the head count."
President Loki smirked at you, jerking his head toward the door. "Excellent. Now we should get going. I believe the briefing will commence in a few moments."
While you were on your way to the briefing room, you sent a haphazard text to a stylist friend, a Hail Mary to hopefully get you looking somewhat presentable.
Tasha, massive SOS. I need an outfit to not look like a total clown show next to the President for a lunch thing.
You followed a few steps behind the president, taking a quick look at your watch when you got notified of a reply from your friend, Natasha Romanoff. Is "lunch thing" your way of downplaying "date"? He finally made his move on you after making googly eyes at you all week long?
Her text had you fighting the urge to roll your eyes as you stepped into the briefing room, cameras at the ready and reporters sitting straight and alert, waiting to pounce with their questions once President Loki was situated at his podium.
The hour went on mostly without a hitch, you taking your notes on near everything he'd mentioned in response to the reporters' queries. While your boss was speaking with a few people from Press Relations, your ears perked up at some small talk between two reporters, one of them having a few biting words to say about you.
"I mean at least his last assistant had some sense of fashion. I never thought I'd miss Little Miss looks like she got hired from the red light district, but at least she didn't look like some frumpy ass college student who just rolled out of bed. Honestly she's dragging the whole look down and that's saying so much because Mr President can make anything look hot."
"Except her, apparently," the other reporter shot back in a snippy tone. "Guarantee you he just hired her so that he has less of a distraction in the workplace. She's the kind people look at and they're doing the opposite of mentally undressing her."
"Mentally putting a paper bag over her head," the first reporter capped off with a witchy cackle.
You felt your fury bubbling just under the surface, wanting nothing more than to march over there and give them a piece of your mind for being so catty at someone that they didn't even know. To drag them over their impractical shoes that made their legs wobble if they so much as tried to stand straight or their two sizes too small shirts that had buttons fighting for their life trying to keep their tits covered.
Instead of doing any of that, however, you pulled out your phone to text Tasha. Firstly, no it's not a "date", when are you gonna drop that tin foil hat of yours. And secondly, scratch what I said earlier. You've wanted to give me a makeover since college? Now's your chance, Babes. Gimme the works.
You sidled past the president and his current company, asking one of your closer acquaintances from the staff to accompany him to any impromptu meetings until the lunch meeting later and to inform your boss that you had to attend to a personal matter, but that you would be back before he left for the restaurant.
As the clock kept on ticking closer half past noon, Loki could feel himself getting antsy waiting for your return. He'd noticed how jittery you seemed when you passed him on your way out of the press briefing, and the staff member you'd sent to keep him apprised in your stead gave no satisfactory explanation on what caused you to step out so abruptly.
"Where are you, Y/N…" he grumbled into the empty office, looking on at your desk that he'd moved inside so that calling on you would require less effort. Instead of stepping outside or phoning you, he'd simply have to call your name from wherever he was and you were already there.
And if he was being completely honest with himself, he'd also done it so you would be closer to him and he would see you at all times throughout the day. He found your presence calmed him, the competence you'd more than proven to have over the last few days already easing his day to day.
Just as he was about to reach for his phone and call you to check if you were alright, he heard your voice outside his office, speaking with your reliever in a tone he likened to one that he heard back on Asgard. Whenever Frigga would correct him on any missteps he had throughout his magic lessons.
"I totally get how you can get lost finding the meeting rooms, it's a goddamn maze in here. But if you make any of them lose unnecessary time because of it, not everyone will come at you with understanding. Just make sure that it doesn't happen for next time. I'll draw you up a map for the rooms that are most frequently used. Study it, live it, breathe it. See if someone from security can accompany you while you familiarize yourself with the place, and don't stop until you can navigate the floor with your eyes closed."
"Yes, ma'am," your reliever confirmed, his tone audibly less jittery than when he was speaking with Loki. "Thank you so much, Y/N. Honestly getting you to be in charge of the rest of us might be one of the best things the President ever did. The one before you was so--"
"Harpy?" you finished with a chuckle, the lightness in your tone feeling like a soothing balm to the nerves Loki had had since he saw you exit the White House so hastily earlier this morning. "Remember when I tried to suggest that we should reach out to Greta Thunberg's team?"
He could almost hear the other man shudder from the other side of the door. "Gah, she nearly ripped your throat out that day. Something something not shippable and we need to get 'hot people'. Really lost the plot, that one. Anyways, I'll go work on memorizing that map. Thanks again, Boss."
"Yikes, don't call me that," you shot back, your voice growing closer to the door, prompting Loki to walk back to his desk before you stepped into the office. "That's just for our boss, no one else." Your footsteps sounded different; there was considerably more of a click in each step, and the slightest stumble to them as if you were re-familiarizing yourself with your own legs.
There was a bizarre feeling of the air becoming easier to breathe once he heard the door open. "There you are, darling. I hope your personal matter's been sorted out and you're ready to--" His words halted dead in their tracks once he turned around and got a good look at you, quickly surmising that the 'personal matter' was a complete overhaul of your appearance.
There was an ethereal glow to your face and your hair that had his hands twitching to reach out and touch you, and in place of the slightly oversized sweater and denim you'd worn this morning was a blazer designed to be worn as a dress, set in a shade of green that matched his waistcoat perfectly. To top it all off, the buckle that cinched at your waist as well as the heels that brought your height up by a few inches were set in a gold that matched the horned helmet atop his head.
You looked like the personification of his most far-fetched fantasies whenever he thought of what he wanted in someone that would stand by his side. A confidant. A partner. A lover, even.
Someone radiantly beautiful, brilliant, and completely unafraid to declare themself as his by adorning his colors.
"Too much?" you spoke up, jostling him out of his thoughts. "I-I mean if it is I still have a change of clothes in my bag I can--"
"No, no. It's not too much, little mortal. Not at all." Mentally he was stabbing himself for stumbling over his words so clumsily; he was normally so much more composed than this. "You look…ravishing." Your eyes lit up at his words, betraying the neutral expression you tried to maintain. "Come. We should head to the restaurant."
He offered out his hand to you, confusion plaguing him when the rhythm of his heart stumbled just as his words did once you'd placed your hand in his. He found you such an anomaly, looking at you with utmost curiosity, wondering how someone could simultaneously calm the chaos all around him and yet incite an entirely different type of chaos in his heart. Not to mention his loins.
"You know, darling, had we been in Asgard, your wearing of my colors could be interpreted as a declaration of your allegiance to me," he spoke once you were both situated in the back of the car. You nodded your head slowly, as if ruminating over what he'd just said. He couldn't take his eyes off of you.
"That makes sense," you answered, seeming as if you were thinking aloud. "Seeing as I am your assistant, people should see within seconds that I'm associated with you. The color thing's probably the most tasteful way of doing it rather than a t-shirt with your face printed on it…"
"May I ask you something…a touch more personal, Miss Y/L/N?"
"O-Of course," you stammered, your nodding a touch unsteady, fingers laced together tightly as if you were trying to keep your nerves at bay.
"What made you decide to work for me?"
You blinked rapidly for a moment, seeming to be genuinely taken aback by the question, before composing your answer.
"All the people who held the position before you were horrid…evil men. All they cared about was finessing a kick back. Burying their constituents in debt. You stepped into office and…I was out of debt in less than half a year. My student loans were nowhere to be found. All because you prioritized our right to have an education. Of course I was going to try working on your re-election campaign."
Hearing you talk about his predecessors, describing them the way you did as if they were so starkly different from him, somehow didn't sit right with the god. "But darling, you do know that I, too, am what others would call a…horrid, evil man?"
You shook your head stubbornly, sitting up straighter as if you were about to deliver a lecture. "No. You're not. I've seen evil men. I've worked with them, I've--" The words caught in the back of your throat, making you clear your throat before pushing on. "I've suffered at the hands of evil men."
Your eyes met his, the sincerity in them knocking the air out of his lungs. Had he been up on his feet, he was sure that your next words would have knocked him down on his ass.
"I'm not looking at an evil man."
His next query escaped from his mouth so swiftly, he couldn't have stopped the words even if he wanted to. "Y/N, what prompted all this?" He made a motion from your hair to your feet. "Why the change?" You squirmed in your seat, as if holding the answer in was making you physically uncomfortable. "It's alright, darling, you can tell me."
There was a heaviness in your tone when you answered. Like you were holding back tears from just recounting the events. "This morning…in the briefing room. There were these reporters commenting on how I looked and how it kind of…cheapened the image. Your image. Ruined the aesthetic."
"What is it with these feeble-minded mortals and their absurd fascination about aesthetics?"
"I don't know," you blurted out. "But the thing is, Sir, I don't have to know. The only thing I have to understand is that there are people, voters, who assign a high value to the aesthetic of a candidate. And it won't sit right in my conscience if I have the knowledge that my appearance can jeopardize someone's decision to vote for you, and I do nothing about it. So…I called up a friend of mine and…told her to make me a new person. A pretty one."
You were already beautiful, he thought to himself. It mattered not how you presented yourself.
Before he could suppress the urge, he was reaching over to your side of the backseat, tucking a lock of your hair that fell loose, obstructing his view of your features. "You deserve so much better than this, sweet mortal," he said softly, stroking your cheek with the backs of his fingers, his heart warming when he saw how you leaned into his touch. "You should be working for an honorable man. A decent man."
The next words to come out of your mouth had him just about ready to carve his heart out with his own dagger and serve it to you on a golden platter. "I am."
"Babes, noooooo," Tasha whined from her end of the video call. "Why are you putting your hair up? The whole fit goes better with your hair down."
You mumbled your answer as incoherently as you could, hoping she'd chalk it off to a bad connection as you fiddled with the half of your hair that was put up in a little gold claw clip.
"What was that, Babes? I didn't quite hear you."
Dammit. "Because he told me he likes it when my hair's not blocking my face, okay?" you answered her with an exaggerated sigh. "Now please tell me my makeup meets your standards because I really don't wanna explain that I lost motion in my right arm from blending my eyeshadow."
"Okay first, your makeup's fine. I'm so proud I'm about to quote that little red cartoon dragon. And second, I can't believe you had the audacity to tell me I had a tin foil hat on, I told you the first day you walked into that briefing room with him that that man couldn't stop himself from looking at you and looking like a heart-eyed emoji. Now you're telling me this? Babes, it's time you accept it. The President has it bad for you, and give it eight to ten months, and you're gonna become First Lady Y/N Laufeyson. In fact I'm so sure of it that 'if I'm wrong, I'll dye my hair puke green. Neon, glow in the dark, puke green."
You let out a frustrated sound that echoed throughout your apartment, stepping back from the phone and showing your friend your choice of clothing for the day, just like you had every morning for the last week. Today it was a dress with puff sleeves, a high neckline with a keyhole and ribbon bow detailing, and an a-line skirt. In President Loki's signature shade of green, of course.
"Looks great, Babes. He's gonna love it."
"Doesn't matter if he likes it, Tasha. The viewers just have to not think I'm ruining his look," you grumbled, stepping out of your phone camera's view to change into the dress.
"Mm hmm, keep telling yourself that, Y/N. Have a good day at work. Try not to ride your boss until after office hours, okay?" You waved her off, ending the call and putting your phone on Silent before you headed off to the White House.
When you got to President Loki's office, he was sat at the edge of his table, hands resting on the lux hardwood surface, and legs spread.
The posture put those unfairly sensual muscular thighs on sluttish display, made worse by the way the fabric of his at least one size too tight slacks stretched and strained over his skin. You had to look away before you dared look closer because you could've sworn you also clocked some tenting between his legs.
"Good morning, sweet little mortal," he greeted you, his voice even more gravelly than usual. Your knees nearly buckled from its effect on you, already feeling the familiar pooling between your legs.
"Good morning, Sir," you answered, already feeling flushed, your breathing a bit deeper and causing an uncomfortable pinch from how bra was pinching against your breasts. "You're up early today…"
"I'm still up, darling. I couldn't sleep. Something was…plaguing my mind."
"Oh?"
He gave you a single nod before raising his hand forward, curling his fingers in a motion that had your feet moving of their own accord toward him. Had you not known any better it was like he cast a spell that summoned you to his side.
But you did know better. He didn't need to cast a spell.
"Closer," he breathed when you were standing two feet in front of him, flicking his gaze down at the space between his legs.
Your heart caught in your throat, your pulse thundering in your ears and pounding so hard you could swear you felt it even at the tips of your toes. Regardless, you obeyed, stepping closer until you stood less than a foot away from him.
"I want you to know you're free to tell me if you wish for me to stop." His words came out strained, like it hurt to say them. "I would never hold it against you. If you do not feel the same I can drop it and we can both simply pretend this never happened."
There's no way, you kept on stubbornly repeating to yourself. Even as he placed his sinfully large hands at your sides, bringing you even closer, so close that you could feel his breath warming your face.
Even as he reached up to remove the clip holding your hair up, weaving his fingers into your hair to hold you in place while his eyes roamed your features, constantly returning to stare at your lips.
The stubborn voice in the back of your head only got silenced once he closed the remaining distance between you, soft lips pressing against your own in a kiss so delicate it was like he thought you were made of porcelain and you would crack at even the slightest touch.
"You can stop me if you feel I've overstepped," he whispered, still close enough that the movement of his lips still faintly ghosted over your own. "I just simply couldn't go another day without telling you--"
You felt the slightest thrill up your spine at the surprised sound that caught in the back of his throat, when you cut him off by giving him a fleeting kiss of your own.
You barely registered the heavy sound of his helmet hitting the tabletop before he pulled you closer, one hand tugging lightly at your hair, the other roaming down your body and working its way under your dress. He grasped at your thigh, letting out a sinful moan when you parted your lips for him and your tongues met in a frantic tangle.
"Do you trust me?" he rasped, catching his breath. He let out a sharp exhale, sounding relieved when you simply nodded your head. He wrapped his hand around the inside of your knee, his other arm wrapping around your waist to lift you up to straddle his lap, knees resting on the edge of the tabletop.
The precarious position had you grasping at his shoulders, leaning into him to keep yourself from keeling over.
He splayed his hand across your back, holding you steady. "I have you, sweet girl." He pressed a kiss to the corner of your mouth, kissing his way down your neck until you let out a strangled moan once he'd reached a spot between your neck and shoulder.
You had to be dreaming. That was the only explanation for this. You slept in and you were still in your apartment and now you were about to be late for work. Yup, that was it. You tried to dig your nail into your palm, wincing at the sharp pinch you felt but nothing came of it.
"Agh--" Your nail broke skin, a tiny spot of blood blooming on your palm.
"Darling Y/N, what in the Nine are you doing?" He wrapped his hand around your wrist, running his thumb across your palm, seeing the minuscule wound.
"This is a dream," you mumbled, more to yourself. "I have to wake up."
"Little mortal," he cooed, pressing a kiss to your cheek. "You think this a dream?" You whimpered at the smirk he gave you when you nodded. "So you've dreamed of this before? Of my kiss? My touch?"
Ah what the hell I'm dreaming anyway. "I have. Every night."
"Oh my sweet little mortal." He pressed a kiss to your palm, the pinprick wound suddenly nowhere to be found when he pulled away. "I can assure you…if this is a dream, it is one we share. The things I've wanted to do to you. With you. Now that I know you've wanted this, too, there is very little that can stop me from turning those dreams into reality."
He worked his hand back under your dress, between your legs, fingertips teasingly trailing up the inside of your thigh. He let out a staggering breath when he met the fabric of your panties, drenched with your arousal.
When you began to whimper from his fingers tracing along your slit he pulled you in for another kiss, effectively muffling your moans when he began to circle your clit over your panties. You started to roll your hips into his touch in response, your body already aching for more.
"So deliciously eager," he purred, kissing his way to your ear. "But I'll be needing you to stay alert, darling." You let out a little squeak when his hold tightened around your waist, keeping you from grinding your hips and chasing your own pleasure. "Now tell me what will be on my itinerary for today."
The softly growled order had your mind scrambling, thoughts that usually easily stitched together to form whatever answer he needed suddenly becoming disjointed and lost to the recesses of your consciousness. "Wait what?"
"I'm sure you understand my need for those under my employ to be mentally sharp as a tack. Regardless of my desire and affection for you, sweet mortal, you are still among those people." You arched your back, pressing your chest against his when he moved the fabric of your panties aside, sliding a single finger inside you and moving in long, languid strokes. "However now we could perhaps make our little morning discussions a touch more…interesting."
"You have the p-press briefing at eight and--Ohh fuck!" Your grip on his shoulders tightened when he inserted a second finger and curled them upwards, brushing against a spot that had you letting out the most obscene moan that filled his office.
"Such vulgar words from your lucious lips," he panted, stealing another kiss from you, nipping at your bottom lip as he pulled away. "Like watching an angel in the midst of corruption. On her pretty little knees for her god." He brushed against the spot with firmer strokes, making you wetter and turning you into a whimpering mess. "Keep going. What comes after the briefing?"
Your mind was spinning trying to recall. You mentally smacked yourself for struggling to remember when you'd just been committing the schedule to memory on your Uber ride here.
"U-Uhm…You have a pre--a prefatory meeting with Morgan Stark at 9:30 to dis--Fucking hell--To discuss free sustainable e-energy to lower class communities." You kept on frantically combing through your memories of your ride over here to recall the rest of the schedule.
"And what else, sweetheart?" He stilled his fingers while pressed on that same spot, lightly ghosting the pad of his thumb over your clit. "You're already doing so well. Finish it so we may move on to more…pleasurable…activities."
He pressed his lips to the base of your throat, the feel of him sucking lightly on the skin driving you near incoherent. "You--You have a meeting with R & B at three. To fi--" You threw your head back and let out a howling moan, his hand tightening on your back to keep you from falling over. "To finalize the contracts for the Department of Defense. And your security detail."
"Not just my security," he grunted, starting to stroke his fingers again. "Yours, too."
That was enough to break through your pleasure-induced haze by a fraction. "Hold on. What? Sir, I don't need--Ohh!" The rest of your words died with an obscene moan when he started flicking his fingers rapidly inside you.
"You're far too valuable for me to not allocate resources to ensure your safety when I can't protect you myself," he explained, peppering kisses across your collarbone. "Is that all for my day, sweet girl?"
"Y-Yes!" you whined, trying desperately to move your hips for even the tiniest bit more friction. "That's everything."
"Excellent." He moved his hand up to hold you by the back of your neck, letting out a sinful groan when he licked into your mouth. "And you'll be joining me in all of those, won't you?"
"Do you want me to?"
"I always want you with me," he murmured against your slips, letting out a moan of his own when he kissed you again, starting to move his fingers faster and pressing his thumb firmly on your clit. "Now come for me, my sweet mortal. My corrupted little angel. Make a mess on your god's fingers."
Your orgasm overtook you as the god moved his hand to your lower back, guiding your movements as you rode out your high, coating his fingers with your release. Your mind was a haze, the sound of his raspy utterances of your name barely hitting your ears. His chest heaved against yours, lips pressing soft kisses to the side of your face while your breathing evened out.
When he pulled his digits out of you, you let out a whiney groan, already feeling the loss of him. The sight of the god placing his fingers in his mouth, his sinfully dexterous tongue lapping up every drop of your juices from his skin, had you squirming in his lap all over again.
"More already?" he teased, pulling you in for another kiss. You could faintly taste yourself on his tongue. "What a beautifully insatiable little mortal you are. It's as if the Norns had made you just for me." His hands freely roamed your back while he kissed his way down your neck, sucking a bruise onto your collarbone. "I've indulged myself in such fantasies of claiming you on every surface of this office. Of every room in this house. I want to lay you down on my desk without a stitch of clothing on you and get drunk on the taste of you."
You could only respond with a faint whimper, images of what he'd described taking up all the space in the forefront of your mind. "Please…"
"I promise you we'll have all the time to make every single one of those debauched fantasies come to life, sweet girl." He kissed you again, wrapping his arms around you and lifting you off the table, softly chuckling against your lips when you started to pout at your feet hitting the ground. "But I want our first night together somewhere more intimate. A moment that shouldn't be rushed and stolen between meetings, held in secrecy in my office."
He held your chin delicately between his fingers, keeping you from looking away at him. The mere sight of the near fully blacked out eyes shining with sincerity and held back words was enough to have your knees buckling again.
"Later tonight," he continued. "When everyone's day is over, then our night can begin. I'll bring you to my private quarters and there…" He took a deep breath, a brilliant smile stretching across his face, a real one so starkly different from the practiced smirks he gave the public. "There I will make love to you."
He guided you to take a step back from him, your heart fluttering when he placed a soft kiss to your forehead before conjuring a majestic golden mirror into the room with a flick of his wrist. The image of you visibly disheveled, paired with the smeared lipstick marks all over President Loki's face, had you biting your lip trying to hold back a smile of your own.
You held the undone ribbon of your dress between your fingers. "And here I spent a good ten minutes on this trying to look all perfect," you told him playfully, a fit of giggles finally escaping you when he took the straps from your hands and used them to pull you to him once again, capturing your lips in a tender kiss.
"Much as I appreciate the effort and having you look as if you'd gift-wrapped yourself just for me with this lovely little flourish, may I say that it matters not how you dress. You were already perfect the day I first saw you on the campaign floor."
"I was wearing a ratty old sweater from college," you shot back, finding it hard to breathe.
"The color of the sky on a stormy day." He brushed his nose against yours, pressing a soft kiss to the tip. "Turn around. Face the reflection."
When you faced the mirror again, he redid the ribbon exactly as it was when you left your apartment with a wave of his hand, kissing along the side of your face as he put your clip back in your hair.
"There you are, sweetheart," he cooed, nipping at the shell of your ear. "Not a hair out of place." Another wave of his hand and he, too, had returned to his state before you walked into the office. "I'd very much like for you to join me for breakfast."
You answered only with a nod, reaching for his hand.
As he led you down the halls toward the dining room, you sent Tasha a quick text.
About what you said earlier…fingers don't count, right?
A/N: It's finally done! The initial 5 stories goal of Kinktober 2023 are all up and I'm finally going back to writing the series I haphazardly dropped when I decided to write these pieces over a month ago. And I finally have a President Loki story in my little library of works 😳👀
I swear I didn't expect to write such a mega chonker for the first President Loki story but I got all kinds of carried away…so much so that there are scenes that I cut from the final draft that might become drabbles somewhere down the line.
For now though…back to the blorbos of 'one look & they'll know', 'relinquish the crown', 'the final Lady Sharpe', 'let me hear you', 'rules of conduct', 'feels like mine'…and some other not-so-secret projects 😳👀
Ohh…and that bit in the end where he pulls on the ribbons of her dress? This was fully the vibe:

'everything' taglist: @simplyholl @loopsisloops @imalovernotahater @coldnique @loz-3 @huntress-artemiss @salempoe @vickie5446 @athalialaufeyson @lokiprompts @kats72 @kikster606 @asgards-princess-of-mischief @lokixryss @thomase1 @mischief2sarawr @peaches1958 @lovingchoices14 @lunarnights95 @goblingirlsarah @iamlokisgloriouspurpose @creationsbyme @maple-seed @mjsthrillernp @ladyofthestayingpower @mygfloki @sititran @glitterylokislut @ozymdias @fictive-sl0th @lokidbadguy @mochie85 @silverfire475 @joyful-enchantress @elizabethmidnight2017 @holdmytesseract @smolvenger @gigglingtiggerv2 @lokidokieokie @superficialdomina @anukulee @kmc1989 @november-rayne @goddessofwonderland @buttercupcookies-blog
Kinktober taglist: @azula-karai-27
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Nessian Week 2023 Masterlist
Thank you to everyone who participated in Nessian Week 2023! You can revisit all your favorite creations below, organized into smaller round-up posts for each day. Don’t forget to check out our Instagram and our AO3 collection too!
We can’t wait to see you again next year for Nessian Week 2024 ❤️🔥❤️🔥❤️🔥
Day 1 ✷ What Happened Next?
Day 1 Round-Up
Day 2 ✷ Rivalry
Day 2 Round-Up
Day 3 ✷ Song Association
Day 3 Round-Up
Day 4 ✷ Alternate Universe
Day 4 Round-Up
Day 5 ✷ Home
Day 5 Round-Up
Day 6 ✷ Warriors
Day 6 Round-Up
Day 7 ✷ Free Day
Day 7 Round-Up
✷ Previous Masterlists ✷
Nessian Week 2022
Nessian Week 2021
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Ghostface Choso


Yoooo I wrote this with the help of Deftones and a bit of experience
Ao3 link
I have serious brainrot about this man. He’s on my nails and I get to lick his face whenever I eat finger foods.
NSFW under the cut! Lmk if you like it.
October always promises some great parties. And this year your friends swore to get you out and to at least one party in costume. It’s not that you weren’t into partying, it’s always the anxiety of dressing up that keeps you away from the Halloween parties.
Your phone dings interrupting your thoughts of worry on how to dress. It’s Shoko and the group chat going on about the party tomorrow. And of course they’ve already gotten you an accessory for the costume they want you in.
Utahime:
Just wear a white dress!
Shoko:
Yeah and make it hot
You roll your eyes at the text and look in your closet. There’s a light blue dress that’s nice and sparkly. Texting the group back: guys will light blue work? That’s all I have on short notice..
Utahime: perfect! I have your wings already 😇
Oh okay angel-devil most likely, you think to yourself. And pick out some white chunky platform sandals to go with it.
——————————
The next day rolls around and you slip in the outfit you’d picked out after sending a few pics for confirmation that the vibe was right. You finish your make up and throw your hair in a clip just as the car outside the window honks for you. Texting Utahime that you’ll be out in a sec, you grab your stuff and head out the door.
Walking up to the house party that looked like a club you could feel the music in the front yard. Giddy with excitement you follow your friends in. Apparently Shoko knew the house owners and got invited that way.
Making your way inside with the wings was a bit difficult. Luckily they were pretty small but with the amount of people there it was hard to move with the added accessory. Grabbing a hard lemonade before Shoko took them to the fridge you followed Utahime to the dance floor.
Placing your hands at her waist you move closer to dance and let loose. Dropping your shoulders and sipping on your drink before leaning your head back. Letting loose for a few songs before you notice there’s a hand sliding to your hip. Fuzzy brained from the heat and drink you let him dance behind you. His hands are warm and big. It’s turning you on just from the idea of the body that might match the hands resting on your dress. There is a barrier of your wings so you’re not too worried but you look back anyway. Ghost face is looking back at you. Leaning back you find his ear and ask “pull your mask up?” He shakes his head no. So you pull away teasing a little bit, mostly to see how much he wanted to be near you. A physical flirtation, a testing of waters.
His hands slide around your hips again so you turn fully to him. Pressing against his chest you reach up and prop his mask up on his head, revealing the most gorgeous man. Hark hair and dark eyes stare back at you. Gasping for a second before you regain your composure and throw a smirk on your face.
In his ear you ask “why didn’t you want the mask off? You’re really pretty”
Blushing, you watch him pull his mask on. “Dance with me?” He asks in your ear, the sound muffled by the mask. You smile and put your hands around his neck getting into the beat of the song. Your heart going a bit crazy knowing how attractive this guy is. Your fuzzy brain can’t help but take over your thoughts. Getting a little nasty in your head you shake it off.
A cool piece of glass breaks your mental spiral as it touches the hot skin of your back. Shoko hands you another bottle of hard lemonade and gets close to your ear. “Do you need saving?” She prods..
Shaking your head no you lean to her saying “no he’s hot and sweet so far”
Removing his mask fully he pulls Shoko over to him and hugs her.
“Oh shit Choso!” She bounces into his hug and returns to your side. “Okay he’s approved” she smirks after speaking lowly in your ear and smacks your ass lightly. Then his hand is back on your waist and mask is hanging loosely around his neck by the elastic. Two small buns of hair sit atop his head and bangs whisp over his forehead. Damn he’s pretty. And your fingers feel the muscles sliding under the fabric of his costume.
Leaning in you tell him your name and boldly kiss his cheek. It’s been forever since you were messy with a one night stand. Maybe this guy could be fun and Shoko seems to like him. Green flags so far make you press your body a bit closer to him.
“I’m Choso by the way” he says in a deep voice, hot breath fanning over your neck. “Want to go somewhere quieter?” You suggest leaning back to see his eyes. He nods and laces your fingers in his pulling you to the kitchen away from the music.
He grabs a beer from the fridge and asks “Do you want one?” You nod after looking at your empty bottle. He twists the cap off of both and leads you out to the back porch where tons more people are mingling around. His hand never leaves your hip as he guides you to a more open space.
“Hey” you say, meeting his gaze. He’s playing with one of the strings hanging from the side of your dress. “Hey” he replies and chuckles looking towards his feet.
“So how do you know Shoko?” You pry.
“Friend of a friend basically. What about you?”
“Friend from college” you start explaining “we’ve just stayed friends the last few years”
“Oh that’s cool. Do you know Gojo and Geto?” You shake your head no.
“Oh that’s whose house this is. I’m surprised Shoko never introduced you. They’re cool.”
“Oh I’ll ask her about it after this trust me” the end of your sentence fizzles into a giggle.
“Sooo what do you do for work?” He looks to you expectantly.
“I work a desk job for a manufacturing company. It’s super boring but like ultra stable. Plus my boss is really nice. What about you?”
“I own a gym actually” you bite back a smile at the realization.. that’s why he’s so built.
“Oh cool. You must stay active then” He nods in confirmation.
“But it is a lot of paperwork too. Can’t have you thinking I’m just a dumb jock”
“Dumb jocks don’t wear buns and dresses” you tease pulling at his costume.
“Oh this old thing?” He plays along and rests his elbow on the patio railing, leaning so he’s shorter than you now.
“So other than working out do you have any hobbies?” You ask Getting a little more comfy and leaning your butt against the railing.
“I game and have cats. Do cats count as an activity?” He looks for an answer.
“I’d say yes. I’m a cat person too.”
“And what about your hobbies outside your desk job?”
“Oh I paint and generally go where my mindless scrolling takes me. Gaming, reading, puzzles.. just whatever keeps me busy.” You shrug and wrap your arms around yourself.
“That’s fun! What kind of games?”
“I logged an embarrassing amount of hours in animal crossing a few years ago”
“Okay what do you consider embarrassing?” His brow raises skeptical of your answer.
“900 hours in less than a year…” you cover your face for a moment blushing.
“Holy shit” he laughs. “Yeah that’s insane. I bet your island was cool!”
“It was!”
The conversation lulls while you both sip your drink.
Standing to his full height Choso grabs your waist “do you want to go somewhere more private?”
“This isn’t?” You challenge.
“It is but I think everyone would appreciate us getting a room for things I want to do to you.”
Your stomach flips.
“Oh? And what would that be?” Your cheeks heat and heart flutters. You’ve been starved for this for months. He leans in closer, the heat of his palm seeping into your side. “I wanna see what you look like with my head between your legs”
“That can be arranged” you know the blush has creeped down to your chest. You pull him closer fisting the fabric of his costume. His hand glides to the back of your neck and he softly kisses your cheek. “So? Somewhere more private?” He repeats.
“What afraid of a little spectacle?” You lean in, nose brushing over his cheek and hot breaths mingling before either of you commit to this fully. He caves first placing a slow, closed mouth kiss to your lips. Slowly he slots your bottom lip between his and playfully bites at it before the kiss melts into an open mouth clash of tongues. The cool October air sending goosebumps over your skin and the warmth of Choso’s breath mixing with yours as you both pant and grab at each other. Turning into something else, so familiar but still new. His baby hairs falling at the back of his neck tickle your hand and you giggle into the kiss.
“Okay maybe getting a room isn’t a bad idea”
“We could go back to my place if you want” he curls the strings from your dress around his finger. “Is it close by?”
He peppers kisses on your neck and whispers that it is.
————————
Entering his apartment you take in the industrial type loft. It’s nothing fancy but it seems to fit him. A vintage red rug on the hardwood floors and dark walls paired with a shitty old velvet couch. You watch as a cat darts around to the corner and disappears into another room.
“Make yourself at home” his deep voice comes from behind you. “Thanks. These wings are cutting into me so bad” you discard the wings on the couch and Choso pulls the costume up over his head.
Oh fuck he’s hot. Your mouth waters at the lack of a shirt under his costume. Both of you barefoot on the plush rug, you close the distance between your bodies. His hands trace your hips and he presses his thumbs into the plush of your belly. Initiating a kiss that turns messy fast, tracing your tongue on his lower lip you feel his heart beat pick up. Sighing into each others mouths and melting into the new touches.
“You’re so sexy” he says pressing his forehead to yours. “Gonna let me do whatever I want?”
“Only if you promise to get me off”
“Oh multiple times” he pushes some stray bangs behind your ear.
“Big talk there mask man”
“It’s not just talk. Promise” he slips a finger to the edge of your panties. Teasingly pulling the fabric away from your skin. Gasping as the intimate contact you grab his biceps.
“Sensitive?” You just nod in response and hide your face in the crook of his neck. His hands find their home at your waist again. Choso slides a finger over your dress straps and pulls one off your shoulder. You start placing sweet small kisses to his neck. He returns the favor and places a few wet kisses to your chest. The teasing turns into a full make out session. He pulls you onto the couch and in his lap. Sliding the hem of your dress up so you comfortably straddle him. Worshiping every inch of exposed thigh.
“Do you do this often?” He questions.
“Not recently no” hesitating for a moment “I’m clean if that’s what your worried about”
Chuckling between kisses to your chest “No but it’s nice to know. I was just wondering if you’re slutty.. in the good way”
Laughing at the correction “I can be if you’re into it”
Dragging his teeth against your skin “I’m into it then”
“Noted” you lean into a kiss and press your self fully against him. You can feel the bulge in his pants already.
“Fuck” you pull away breathless from sucking down each others air. His hands guide your hips creating friction for the both of you. Kissing him again you fight over who gets to bite the others lip. He pulls yours in his mouth and sucks on it.
Placing your hands on his shoulders, finger tips gliding along the bare skin of his back. “Will you wear the mask while we fuck?”
Shock settles on his face then a grin. “Yes ma’am”
Teasingly, you drag your hips on him. Your folds spilling out of your thong from how hard you’re grinding on him. Cupping your ass, Choso stands up with you in his arms as he carries you to his bedroom. Tossing you on the bed before he hovers over you placing kisses to your chest and biting the flesh of your breast. Licking at every spot he bites leaving a small trail across your cleavage. He kisses you with an open mouthed kiss, tangling your tongues together while he pulls your dress up and over your head.
His lips immediately attach to your exposed nipple while he plays with the other. Sending shivers over your body and heat between your legs. He pulls the mask off his neck and throws it on the bed “for later” he says.
“First I gotta make good on a promise” lowering to his knees and placing soft kisses on the inside of your thighs. Sliding off your underwear leaving you fully exposed under him. Tension fills the room as he leans in closer to your clit, slowly dragging his tongue over the soft bud. You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. His tongue slowly drags over your slit sucking up the wetness already leaking from you. Then he proceeds to suck and lick your pussy with no regard for how wet his face and your thighs are. Pressing into you hard and flattening his tongue for more friction. Using your thighs and ass to lift you up off the bed so he has better access. Continuing his ministrations pulling out every ounce of pleasure he can. Soft moans slip from both of you. Lewd sounds come from between your legs and you cover your face in embarrassment. Someone you just met making you feel SO good. The thought sends shivers through your body. You grab each of his buns in one hand and rut yourself against his face. Panting at the exertion, filthy things leave your lips.
“God Choso yes”
He slides a finger inside you but never lets his lips leave your clit. Even as you reach overstimulation and try to pull away he pulls you closer with one hand. Riding out your high on his finger.
“Good girl” he praises as his shorts hit the floor. Joining you on the bed he kisses you and pulls you closer. You drape a leg lazily over his waist and realize he’s fully naked. And erect. Holy shit. Hes so pretty.. even his dick is pretty. Toying with it, your thumb circles around the tip as you greedily slide it through your folds.
“I’m on the pill .. so we can do whatever you want”
He covers his face with a large palm. “Fuck me” giggling softly you reply “gladly”
He goes to grab the mask off the bed but you stop him. “I wanna see your face for a bit. Please” He smirks and nods, placing the mask close by. Sitting up on his knees, he glides his dick on your cunt and teases your slit and folds. Heat pooling in your abdomen. He pushes his tip in and spits on where you’re connected. Throwing his head back he hooks your legs over his thighs, pushing fully inside of you. A few thrusts and he’s sweating. Looking like a man starved for pussy.
He grabs the mask and pulls it over his face while your eyes are screwed shut. Fucking into you harder now and lifting you off the bed. His nails dig into your hips and you gasp but definitely get wetter at the sight of the mask. You grasp his sides, holding on as he roughly pushes into you over and over. He flips you over and fully pushes inside you slowly before grasping all your hair in one hand. Forcing you to look over your shoulder at the body of a god screwing you. A hand slides up your back and causes heat to pool in your belly at the tenderness.
Panting, your hands fist the sheets for purchase. He catches on that you want more and he pulls all the way out before slamming back in. Throwing his head back in pleasure as his cock drags against your walls, pulling out again. Taking off the mask you see sweat beading on his face.
“God damn you feel so good” wimpers leave your lips as he’s pushing and pulling your body as he wants.
Flipping you over again he spits where you’re connected. Playing with your clit while dragging his dick in and out of you until you’re cumming on him. He leans over and cups your shoulders while panting into your ear. Orgasms washing over both of you. He holds you as you both come down. Breathing heavily while your eyes glaze over, you body humming with contentment.
Playing with his hair you whisper into his ear “that was incredible”
“Yeah? if you stay the night I’ll do it again”
Smiling you kiss his cheek and agree.
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What if JJ got hurt when he crashed his motorcycle and he woke up to see reader sleeping, head resting on her arms on the edge of his bed. She’d had a crush on him for years, but never told him cause he’d liked Kiara since kindergarten. But in the heat of the moment she kissed him, and yelled at him for being so stupid and scaring her like that.
Okay Bet!
𝐉𝐉'𝐬 𝐂𝐫𝐚𝐬𝐡
The night was thick with tension as the roar of motorcycle engines echoed through the humid summer air. JJ Maybank, with his characteristic rebel spirit, was racing through the winding roads of the Outer Banks with the police hot on his tail. He had always been the wild one, the thrill-seeker, and tonight was no exception. But this time, the stakes were higher than ever.
Y/N had known JJ for years, and she couldn't help but worry about him every time he embarked on one of his dangerous escapades. She had harbored a secret crush on him since they were kids, but she'd never dared to confess her feelings. After all, JJ had always been infatuated with Kiara since their kindergarten days, and Y/N had long accepted that she was nothing more than a close friend.
As the chase intensified, the adrenaline coursed through JJ's veins. He pushed his motorcycle to its limits, desperately trying to lose the police cruisers tailing him. But it was a risky maneuver, and just as he attempted to swerve around a sharp curve, disaster struck. The motorcycle skidded out of control, sending JJ crashing onto the pavement. His world went dark.
Y/N rushed to the scene, her heart pounding with fear. The sight that greeted her was a nightmare. JJ lay unconscious on the road, his body battered and bruised. The police officers were already on the scene, and an ambulance was on its way.
Tears welled up in Y/N's eyes as she watched them load JJ onto a stretcher. She couldn't lose him, not like this. She had to be there for him, no matter what. Y/N followed the ambulance to the hospital, her mind racing with worry and regret. Regret that she had never told JJ how she felt.
Hours passed in the waiting room, her anxiety mounting with every ticking second. Finally, the doctor emerged, his face grim. JJ had suffered a concussion, broken ribs, and various cuts and bruises. He was going to be okay, but he needed time to recover. Y/N let out a sigh of relief, but the guilt of not confessing her feelings was eating her alive.
She was escorted to JJ's room, where he lay unconscious, hooked up to various machines. His face was pale, and his body looked fragile. Y/N couldn't help but break down as she approached the bed. She had to be strong for him, no matter what.
Hours turned into days, and JJ slowly began to regain consciousness. His eyes fluttered open, and the first thing he saw was Y/N. She was sitting in a chair beside his bed, her head resting on her arms. Her eyes were red from crying, and her fingers were tightly intertwined.
JJ tried to speak, but his voice was hoarse. Y/N immediately stirred, her eyes widening with surprise and relief. "JJ, you're awake!" she exclaimed, sitting up straight. "You scared the hell out of me, you know that?"
JJ managed a weak smile, his head throbbing with pain. "Sorry," he croaked, his voice barely audible.
Y/N leaned in closer, her emotions getting the better of her. Without thinking, she pressed her lips to his, a passionate kiss born from years of suppressed feelings and pent-up worry. JJ's eyes widened in surprise, but he didn't pull away.
When the kiss finally broke, Y/N pulled back, her cheeks flushed with a mix of embarrassment and anger. "You idiot," she scolded, her voice shaking. "You can't keep doing this to yourself, to all of us. You have no idea how much you mean to me, and it kills me to see you risking your life like this."
JJ blinked, his mind racing to process what had just happened. "Y/N, I…"
But Y/N cut him off, her tears returning. "Don't say it," she whispered. "Just promise me you'll be more careful, that you'll stop being so reckless. I can't lose you, JJ. Not like this."
JJ nodded, his heart pounding with a newfound realization. Maybe, just maybe, he had been looking in the wrong direction all this time. Maybe the girl he had longed for had been right in front of him all along.
As he lay in that hospital bed, JJ Maybank made a silent promise to Y/N and to himself. It was time to let go of the past and embrace the future, even if it meant leaving behind childhood crushes and embracing the unexpected love that had been waiting for him all along.
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Bride and Joy
Pairing: Mycroft Holmes x Fem!Reader
Tags: nsfw, smut, breeding kink, interrogation, dirty talk, name-calling, rough sex, creampie, table sex, oral fingering, cnc roleplay, roleplay, dark Mycroft Holmes
Word count: 2k
Kinktober Day 8: Breeding Kink
A/N: Mycroft seems like one of these people who would be extremely possessive of his lover so that's the angle I'm taking here. I'm glad to see people requesting all the pretty Yuumori men for kinktober.
You already knew it was all over for you. You got caught, detained and placed within an interrogation cell waiting for who ever the set on you. Betraying the Queen is no small crime after all.
The room door opened and a tall man in a black suit and a cigar walked in. You knew him to be Mycroft Holmes, one of the Queens best and most trusted men. And the most ruthless.
"Well you got yourself in quite a bind there haven't you little missy?" He took a drag of his cigar as he walked to where you sat and placed the file on the table in front of you, exhaling the smoke as he did so. "Stealing documents, forging signatures, weapon smuggling and a plot against the Royal family. You've been quite busy haven't you?"
You narrowed your eyes and clenched your fists, "If you know all of that already then why am I here? You've got your evidence, why not charge me with treason and be done with it?"
Mycroft chuckled, closing the file and tapping his index finger on it, "That's certainly an option." He took another drag before he put the cigarette out, "But we could use someone of your talents. Of course you'd still be under our surveillance but you'd still be a free woman. In some ways at least. I haven't spoken to her Majesty yet but I'm certain she would agree. I only need you to say yes to marrying me."
He looked at you like it was the most obvious solution to your problem. You on the other hand looked at him like he had just lost his mind. "Excuse me? Why would I do such a thing?" You felt his gaze sharpen as a blush spread across your face.
"No one would ever agree to let you roam free without supervision. I'm afraid not even I could negotiate that. But if I were to take you as my wife, well it would grant you a certain favor and immunity as a spy." He walked around the small table and grabbed your chin, his eyes staring into yours, "Surely you're aware of how beautiful you are. You would make a fine wife. And..." His fingers trail lightly across your throat and across your side, making you shiver, "A fine mother I'm sure."
His smile widened as his fingers started to skim the edge of your shirt, giving the barest hint of touch on your thigh. You gulped under his gaze, feeling like an a small animal looking at their predator. Both fear and adrenaline rush though you as you stammer out, "W-What? But I'm... I don't think this is a good idea."
"No? Any why not? You get a pardon, you get to keep your job, you get a nice husband. I promise to treat you right and love you for as long as we're together." Although his word was meant to be comforting you could sense a darkness behind them. "I will make you feel so good. Just give yourself to me my sweet."
A high gasp tore from your throat when you felt his fingers rubbing you through your panties.
"H-Hold on. This isn't right. We shouldn't be doing this. I don't even know you." His eyes softened for a moment, his lips closing in on yours.
"Oh you will. We'll get very familiar with each other." Mycroft pushed his lips against yours, they were softer than you expected but his tongue was quick to remind of you how rough he could be, pushing past your lips, swallowing your little soft moan and brushing against your tongue. "You're getting wet already. Are you sure you don't want me?"
"You're my enemy. I shouldn't..." Hi moved your panties to the side and moved two fingers up and down in a slow manner, spreading the wetness evenly before pushing them both inside with no warning. You screamed at the intrusion and buried your head in his chest to muffle your moans, fisting your hands into his suit, "God." You whimpered and shifted in your seat as he moved his fingers in and out, taking them out all the way to the tip and then burring them all the way to the end.
"You're beginning to loosen up. If you're already this wet I can't even imagine what you're gonna feel like around my cock." He took your hand in his placed it over his bulge. The cock throbbed under your touch, warm even though the material of his pants, "See how hard I am already? That's all for you. All for this cunt."
Upon hearing the possessive growl in his voice you couldn't help but spread your legs. He paused for just a moment and then laughed.
"Well would you look at that. Little whore wants it now does she? That didn't take long. You need to make it for fun for me miss." He slid his fingers out, pulling your panties off in the process. "Start by cleaning these for me."
He offers you his fingers, still looking rough even while covered in your juices. When you didn't immediately go for his fingers you heard him scoff next to your ear as he pushed them against your lips, "I told you to suck. You need to follow my orders to the letter if you want this to work out for you." You let out a whimper as you open your mouth for him, allowing him to slide his fingers in and fuck your throat, "Good girl. You'll learn fast don't worry. I'll make you into my little cockslut before you know it."
You moaned around his fingers at his words, a fresh flood of wetness gathering below as you start bucking your hips forward, clouding your senses, "Please, I can't..."
"Beg. Beg me to fuck you. Tell me you're a horny slut who wants to be breed. Say it." He was very rough when taking his fingers out and grabbing your chin with his still wet hands, "Well?"
It was embarrassing how easily you were being broken by him. How easily he managed to get to you just by using his words and fingers. How badly you wanted it. Wanted him. "I'm a horny slut... who wants to be breed." Mycroft grinned, wide and pleased at your confession.
"Interesting. I wasn't being serious with that one but it's nice to hear you admit to it." Another blush spread across your face and down you neck, "Well how can I refuse my future wife." He gave you a brief kiss, humming at your the lingering taste on your tongue. He chuckled as he tapped your cheek lightly and turned to give you some room. You could hear him unbuckling his belt. "Why don't you bend over and present for me, I want a good look at you."
You gulped in anticipation as you stood up on shaky legs, your slick running down your thighs and dripping onto the floor. You felt like you're in heat, ready to be taken and fucked. That feeling only intensified when Mycroft turned around and lets you see his hard dick, standing tall between his legs with his hand at the base. Your cunt pulsed with need to be filled and stretched open by it. Maybe you were just a bitch in heat after all.
And like a good bitch you presented yourself for him, bending over the edge of the table and hiking up your shirt, revealing your cunt and your ass. But not before getting a glimpse of his muscular body as he undid his bowtie and started undoing the buttons on his shirt.
"What a lovely sight you are. So ready for me." You hear his footsteps approaching followed quickly by his hand smoothing over your left ass cheek before gripping your hip in a tight, sure to bruise grip. "Are you ready for my cock?"
"Yes." You breathed out, even catching yourself off guard with how needy and breathless you sounded.
"And have you earned it? Do you promise to be a good whore for me whenever I ask? To get on your knees and suck my cock at the snap of my fingers." He leaned over to snap them next to your ear as the tip of his cock nudged at your opening.
"I promise. I'll be good. I'll be so good." Mycroft laughed at your eagerness, pushing his fingers into your mouth as he tilted your head a little for easier access. "Fuck. Fuck me. Please, please, please." You could barely talk with your mouth sucking on his fingers but you wanted it so much that you don't care how desperate you were.
When he finally does slide in you don't care that this was supposed to be an interrogation, that he's your enemy, that he basically blackmailed you into marrying him, all you care about his how his cock fills you up over and over.
"You take me so nicely. You were made for me weren't you. Just for me and my cock. I'll fuck you every day I can promise you that, breed you like you need to be bred. You're gonna look so pretty when you're full of my cum you little slut. My pretty cumslut." He thrust his hips into yours, his fingers playing in your mouth, dragging them over the flat of your tongue.
You whimpered and moaned for him, bucking your hips backwards, your wet cunt clenching around his throbbing dick, making him hum and go harder and faster at every jolt of his hips. The room was filled with wet, needy, lewd sounds of him fucking two of your holes at the same time, your moans muffled but still very audible.
He was ruthless in his pace, shoving his cock as deep as it could go, dragging along your front wall every time he pulled out. You were starting to get dizzy with pleasure, your cunt so full yet so empty. You needed more. You needed him to fill you up properly.
"Please come. Please. Fill me up." You struggled to talk around his fingers, your words barely coherent.
"What ever you say sweetheart." He was so amused by the state he's brought you to that he decided to have mercy and give you want you wanted, "But you're gonna have to come first." He pulled his fingers out of your mouth and once again places them next to your ear, "Ready?"
You nodded, not trusting your voice. You heard his fingers snap next to your ear, and something snapped inside you as well, a flood heat rushing though you as you bucked your hips wildly and came all over his cock.
"Good slut. So good for me. So damn good." In one last, hard thrust he buried his dick deep inside of you and flooded your womb with his cum, his hips twitching as he groans through his release, your name falling from his lips as he leans over you. You both took deep breaths to relax your bodies and let the combined pleasure flow through you, "Did you enjoy that my love?"
"Fuck Mycroft. I mean just... holy shit." You breathed out hard at which he lets out a slow chuckle.
"That good I see. I'm glad. Thank you for indulging me in this. And for the suggestion to roleplay. I bet it would have been fun to break you." His lips skimmed the area of your neck, pressing slow kisses as you relax under him, "Do you want to stay like this a little? And don't worry about anyone walking in on us. I made sure we have more than enough time. Maybe even for a round two if you feel like it."
"Hell yes." You squeezed around him as he pulled you back against his chest and took a seat on the chair, his cock comfortably snug inside of you, keeping most of his cum inside. "How about we try for a round three after we get home?"
He laughed loud against your neck, "Are you taking the roleplay seriously? You don't actually need to take my cock all the time."
"No. But what if I want to?" You rolled and pushed your hips downward, feeling him twitch inside you.
"Then who am I to say no to my wife." With a soft touch he turned your head towards him to give you the sweetest kiss of the day, but not the last.
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just an fyi for people who've let their social skills atrophy by spending too much time on tumblr:
this is generally not a good thing to say to a stranger on a nonsexual post
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Don’t Hate the Player
Pairing: JJ Maybank x female!reader
TW:mild violence I guess?
Summary: You and JJ take games way too seriously.
Word count:800 (this is just a short idea I couldn’t get out of my head)
A little-known fact about you and JJ is that you’re both extremely competitive. Like, flip the table, throw a video game controller, game nights are-a-thing-of-the-past-competitive.
Especially if you’re competing against each other.
It all came to a screeching halt one night when you were all wrestling each other playfully. It was lighthearted until it wasn’t.
You and JJ were the final two after beating everyone else, and it was meant to be a winner-vs-winner match to see who takes the metaphorical trophy.
However, neither of you were willing to give up and after twenty minutes of headlocks and thrashing around, the rest of the pogues pulled you apart and kept you separate the rest of the night.
So you can imagine their shock and horror when they came back to the Chateau to find you and JJ settling into a not-so-friendly game of Mario Kart.
They all look at each other with worry swimming in their eyes and approach the two of you as if you’re rabid animals about to bite.
“Hey there. Uh, whatcha doin’?”
You look up at John B with a quirked eyebrow and nod your head toward the screen as if it’s obvious.
“Um playing Mario Kart?”
Your answer is phrased as a question, genuinely not understanding where the confusion lies.
He nods his head slowly and glances at Sarah.
“Right, it’s just that last time you two did that I had to get a new lamp.”
JJ's face contorts into a mixture of offense and irritation as he huffs.
“That was one time JB, and we said we were sorry!”
He sounds genuinely exasperated and John B extends a hand as if to defend himself.
“I know, sorry I said anything.”
It comes out rushed like he’s frantically trying to disarm a bomb and JJ relaxes back into the couch.
No one else says anything, but they all take seats a safe distance away as the two of you choose your build and start the race.
The first couple of rounds are civil, and if the five people that have a protective layer of pillows covering them didn’t know better, they’d think you were just a cute couple spending time together.
However all good things must end, and on the third race, it gets more heated.
“Oh fuck you, Maybank! You knocked me out of first with that goddamn turtle shell!”
Everyone flinches back, waiting for flying debris as JJ laughs maniacally.
“Don’t hate the player, baby. Hate the game.”
You desperately try to regain your place and the two of you are neck and neck as JJ speeds past the finish line.
His hands fly up in victory as he lets out a celebratory cheer and you stew in anger.
“This is bullshit.”
Sarah winces at your biting complaint and you slam the buttons as you start a new race.
You lean with the controller as you drift around the sharp curves and JJ is right on your tail.
“I’m so gonna get your ass.” He taunts and you slap the controller out of his hands as you cross the checkered line.
“I’m gonna get your ass for real if you don’t shut the fuck up.”
His head snaps to look at you but your eyes stay on the screen as you ignore his burning gaze.
“Fine, so that’s how it’s gonna be.”
Pope shifts nervously at the half-flirting-half-serious banter and gulps.
You continue on like this for a while, covering each others eyes and grabbing at each other's hands. In the last round though things take a turn for the worst.
You hit JJ with a lightning bolt which puts him in fifth and he growls.
“Don’t hate the player, baby. Hate the game.” You repeat mockingly and he hits you with a pillow.
The controllers are quickly discarded as you hit him back, and an all-out pillow fight commences.
“I knew this was a bad idea.” Kiara whispers, and she’s promptly smacked with a stuffed animal that was launched across the living room.
“Oh hell no.”
She springs up and before you know it, the seven of you are laughing and dodging swings left and right.
You land a fatal blow to the side of JJ's head and he falls back dramatically, crumbling into a heap on the floor.
“Okay, fine! I’m waving the white flag!”
You stand over him menacingly with the battered pillow held above your head ready to strike again.
“And?”
He groans and covers his face, preparing to be hit.
“And you’re the prettiest girl on the planet and the best girlfriend ever who I love more than anything.”
He tries and you cock your head to the side.
“And?” You press, eliciting a defeated groan from the blonde.
“And you’re the ultimate Mario Kart champion.”
His answer pleases you and he smiles as you drop your weapon.
“That’s what I thought.”
You offer a hand and pull him up, giving him a sweet kiss once he’s back on his feet.
“You’re ruthless.”
John B laughs in agreement behind him and slaps him on the back.
“Just be glad it wasn’t the remote this time.”
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thought that i was dreaming when you said you loved me - j.m.
summary: if there was a contest for the world’s stupidest teenagers, you and jj would take first place.
word count: 3.1k??? i got a little carried away
warnings: a little language.
a/n: childhood best friends to lovers, a little argument, tiniest bit of angst. WHOLEEE lotta fluff. reading it back, im starting to wonder if it really flows together or if it even makes sense, but i think its cute and i liked writing it!! as always, likes, comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated. i adore you all!!
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I Said I'm Fine
JJ Maybank x F!Reader
For Day 14 of @whumpril's 2023 Challenge: false smile / holding back tears / "I said I'm fine"
Warnings: 18+, language, angst
Word Count: 2.2k
A/N: I've been wanting to write for JJ again for a while now and these prompts just seemed to good to pass up for him. Hope you enjoy!
OBX Taglist: @garbinge @passionatewrites (If you want to be added to any of my taglists, please let me know!)
The pogues all getting back to the Outer Banks was the biggest news on the island since they’d all gone missing. It was funny to you how much people had switched up about them once they were missing. People that you knew for a fact had never said a kind word to any of them were suddenly saying how worried they were, how they hoped that they were all okay wherever they were. It was all bullshit, and you knew it, but it wasn’t worth fighting with them over.
You almost wished that any of it had been sincere, because at least then it wouldn’t have felt like you were suffering alone. But, as it stood, you had no one. The more time that went by, the less people even pretended to care, and the more alone you felt.
But then they all came home.
There was nothing else in your life that could’ve compared to the feeling of relief that came when you found out that it was true, that they really were all back on the island. All of those weeks with absolutely no news, and now you were going to be able to see them all again. It felt like your heart was going to leap clean out of your chest.
You didn’t really know what you expected, but when you stopped by the chateau to see everyone, the only person that you saw there was John B. It made sense that everyone would’ve gone off in their different directions, but part of you was hoping that you would be able to see them all together before they split off.
It didn’t stop you from hugging John B tight enough to you to risk cracking his ribs. “I’m so glad you guys are okay,” you said, tears welling up in your eyes.
He laughed but you could hear the heaviness in it as he said, “Yea, me too.”
Pulling back, you quickly wiped the tears from your face. “Where…where is everyone?”
He shook his head, looking as bewildered as you felt. He didn’t know what else to do besides shrug. “Not sure. I think that everyone went…went home. Sarah went to get some stuff from Tannyhill but then she’ll be back here.”
“What about JJ?”
John B shrugged again. “He didn’t say where he was going exactly. Just figured he was going back to his house.”
Your heart sank at that. His house. His house that you knew for a fact was now taped off and slated to be seized by the bank. His house that he had been dying to get out of for years before all of this, and now it was only going to be worse.
Trying to get your feelings under control, you nodded. “Right. I’m, um, I’m gonna go see if I can catch up with him. I’ll try to track down Pope and Kie tomorrow.”
John B nodded. “Sure thing.”
Pulling him into another hug, you told him, “I’m so fucking glad you guys are home.”
He eased into the hug, squeezing you back for a moment. “Thank you.”
Without wasting another minute, you took off from the chateau back to your car and started towards JJ’s. You’d been stopping there on your rounds while everyone had been gone. You’d been stopping by the chateau too, on the off chance that they all appeared again and were just trying to lay low like the last time they dropped off the radar.
Practically jumping out of your car, you started making your way towards the front door. You saw the tape across it, but you also saw the way that the front door had been opened anyway. A heaviness settled in your chest as you realized that JJ had to come home after so many weeks away, to this. You’d been spending all of those weeks alone, but JJ had to come back to loneliness. That was an entirely different kind of pain.
Letting yourself in the house, you called out for him. “JJ?”
There was the sound of something clattering to the ground followed by the heavy footsteps that let you know that while a lot of things might have changed, JJ still hadn’t lost his boots. Any of the comfort that you found in that realization, however, was lost when JJ emerged from where his bedroom used to be. The lost look on his face broke your heart, but what made it worse was the fact that he tried to paint a smile on over it as he said your name.
“What’re you doing here?”
You wanted to step in closer to him, but it felt like your feet were glued to the floor. “I just, um, I wanted to come and see you.”
He held his arms out, the fake smile growing sadder by the second. “Here I am.”
Something about the sadness in his face got your feet to finally cooperate with the rest of you. Crossing the room in what felt like two long strides, you landed yourself right in front of him. “I missed you.”
“I—” his sentence was cut short for a moment as you wrapped him up in a hug. He settled into it, but you could feel the way that he was beginning to shake as he said, “I missed you too.”
The two of you stood like that for a long time, wrapped up in the middle of the dirty living room of Luke’s abandoned house. You were making up for lost time, all the days and nights that you’d spent worrying about him, about all of them. Every day that went by it felt less and less likely that you’d ever get the chance to hug JJ like this again. But he was here now, and you didn’t want to let him go.
JJ, on the other hand, was holding you tight in the hopes that if he held you tight enough, held you long enough, that the world around him would somehow change. As long as your arms were squeezing around his middle, and his eyes were shut tight as he buried his face into your shoulder, the sad reality of all that he had to come back to on the island wasn’t something that he had to deal with.
You could feel it as he started to shake more, could feel how he was trying desperately to hold back his tears. Running your hand up and down his back, you said, “You can talk to me, you know.”
That snapped him out of the sad but wishful state that he’d been in. Pulling away from you, he sniffled and shook his head, trying to blink his tears back into submission. “Talk? What’s,” he forced a laugh, “what’s there to talk about?”
“JJ—”
“No, no,” he waved you off, taking a step back, “I’m fine. Really. Why,” he let out a sad laugh as he held his arms out, gesturing to the room around you, “why wouldn’t I be good? I’m home! All those weeks away and I’m finally fucking home!”
You felt your bottom lip starting to quiver. “I’m sorry.”
Heat crept up the back of his neck—he could feel the anger threatening to roll over him. It wasn’t about you. None of this was your fault. But the longer he stood there, looking at you and the sad, sympathetic look in your eyes, the more he felt like he was going to take it out on you anyway. It wasn’t fair. But nothing about any of this really was.
“What do you have to be sorry for? I said I’m fine. I’m back,” he kicked an empty beer can to the side, “back in paradise.”
You knew that there was nothing to say that was going to soothe the pain he was feeling. Everyone else was coming home to things that were theirs, coming home to families of some kind. But not him. He had an empty, foreclosed house and that was it. John B had the chateau, Sarah had John B, Kiara had her parents, and Pope had his. Everyone had someone to lean on, something that was waiting to welcome them home. JJ had you, but it wasn’t the same. It wasn’t what he was looking for.
“You don’t gotta stay,” he said after a long stretch of silence. “I’m all good here, if you couldn’t tell.”
“I want to stay,” you told him, hoping to make him realize that he wasn’t as alone as he felt.
He scoffed. “No one wants to stay here. I don’t want to stay here, that’s for damn sure. Luke didn’t wanna stay here either! Hell, I didn’t even want to come back at all!”
The tears that were lingering at the edges of your eyes finally started to spill over. “JJ…”
“No, no,” he waved you off, “don’t do that. Don’t look at me like that, say my name like that.”
“I’m not—”
“What are you even doing here, anyway?”
Wiping at the tears on your face, you asked, “Is it not obvious?” You could tell by the look on his face when he opened his mouth that he was going to have another sarcastic comment for you, so you cut him off before he could start. “I’ve been worried sick about you for well over a month, JJ. You were missing. I, I was worried that you were dead.”
“Well,” he threw his hands up, “I’m not. I’m good. So you can—”
“You’re not good, JJ! Stop saying that!” You took a step towards him, erasing the distance that he’d tried to put there. “You’re not good. Nothing…nothing about this situation is good. I, I get that.”
You didn’t get it fully. But you were at least in a place where you could see it more than anyone else had been capable of. That’s why you were standing there with him while everyone else was gone. You were expecting JJ to throw it back in your face, though, the way that you couldn’t possibly understand it all. You braced yourself for a tirade, but it never came. The anger that was beginning to flood his eyes slowly started to drain, the sadness and loss creeping back in its stead. You saw the way he tried to keep his tears at bay as he shook his head at you, trying to figure out what to say next.
All you wanted to do was pull him out of that god forsaken house and never let him go back. Your mind was already racing, trying to come up with a plan for it all. But you also knew that the best plan in the world wasn’t going to matter if JJ didn’t agree to it. It all hinged on him being willing to let his guard down, let someone help.
“Please come stay with me,” you finally said.
He froze, clearly not expecting that to be the next thing you said. “What?”
“Come stay with me. At least for a little while, until we figure out what to do next.”
He shook his head. “No, no I can’t…you’re just…no. I can’t do that.”
“Why not?”
He stepped back and started to pace. “Just because you feel bad, doesn’t mean—”
“This is just as much for me as it is for you,” you said, cutting him off.
It wasn’t a lie, either. You didn’t want JJ to be squatting in Luke’s house for a multitude of reasons. You knew that nothing good was going to come of that. However, you would’ve been lying if you tried to say that convincing him to stay with you and your family didn’t have some selfish ulterior motives to it. All those weeks of not knowing where he was, it would be nice to know that he was just down the hall.
He could see the sincerity in your eyes. Part of him knew that he wasn’t going to end up winning this argument, but another part of him wasn’t going to let him give in without a fight.
“What about your parents?”
You laughed and shook your head, wiping at the tears on your face. “I’ve been telling you for years, JJ, my parents actually like you.”
He never believed it when you said it. You didn’t exactly blame him—most people on the island didn’t like JJ simply because they knew his last name. That, and he had a hard time not feeding into the animosity of it all once he found out that people didn’t particularly trust him. But your parents hadn’t ever treated him poorly, hadn’t ever made him feel less-than. You knew that some of it came from pity, but it was better than them treating him poorly.
It'd been a long enough stretch of silence to allow him to think when you finally spoke up again. “Please?”
He hesitated for another moment longer, but then gave in with a nod. “Okay.” He wiped at the tears on his face. “Just, just until I figure out something else.”
Relief flooded through you as you nodded. “Of course.”
Stepping in, JJ wrapped his arms around you in a tight hug, finally allowing himself to fall apart for a moment. “Thank you.”
You held him tight. “Of course.” Hooking your chin over his shoulder, you let your hand trail up and down his back. “I love you, you know.”
You felt the way he nodded as he kept you clung close to him. “I know.” He let out a sigh of relief. “I love you too.”
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A Dark and Winding Road || Travis Hackett x f!reader || NSFW [minors DNI]
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Summary: A late night on a long, dark road in the middle of nowhere. An exhausted, small-town cop itching to give you a speeding ticket. Surely a little flirting would go a long way to get you out of trouble, wouldn't it?
CW: dubcon, vaginal fingering, blowjobs, f!reader, use of "ma'am" to refer to reader
Word Count: 4.6k
AO3 Link ---
You took one hand off the steering wheel and shook your arm, trying to loosen your tightly-wound muscles, feeling your fingers locked into a semi-permanent grip. You couldn’t remember how long you’d been driving anymore--had it been hours? Perhaps weeks? It was all hyperbole of course, but that’s where your mind went after being stuck in your car for so long, all in the name of trying to make it to your cousin’s wedding that you weren’t even sure you wanted to attend. You glanced down at the clock—just a little before midnight.
“Ugh. Eight hours in this fuckin’ car,” you mumbled aloud to no one in particular. “I’m gonna pass out if I don’t stop soon.”
It had been since a little after sundown since you’d been able to find a rest stop where you could get out and stretch your aching legs, with no apparent relief in sight; your phone had lost signal long ago, and the crisp paper map you’d picked up before leaving town was no help in finding any local landmarks. Even if you’d a gas station along this godforsaken long and winding road that felt like it stretched on forever, you got the impression that this wasn’t the best place to stop—you were in the middle of fucking nowhere, and even stepping a foot outside the car felt like it could be the last thing you did. What if there were feral vampires? Or a murderous family who’d chase you through the woods and skin you alive? Or worse yet—what if there was a kind-hearted but lonely local who hadn’t seen a soul for hours and wanted to engage in small talk about the weather when all you wanted to do was buy some chips and borrow the bathroom key?
“Okay, okay,” you whispered to yourself, exhaling slowly, “this isn’t a horror movie. Get it together.”
You inhaled deeply, promising yourself you could make it a while longer—you weren’t tired or sore at all, you clearly just needed a little fresh, woodsy air to revive you. You rolled down your window and let the cool night air rush against your face, hoping it would keep you awake along enough to reach civilization, or at least somewhere that had cell phone towers. You blinked hard to clear your vision, but the road seemed to grow longer and longer as you rounded every curve, the forest closing in on you from both sides, encroaching on the road and nipping at the edges of your fragile sanity. Between the loud rush of wind whipping through the car and your laser-like focus on the highway, you hadn’t even noticed the fact that your foot had slowly pressed further and further down onto the accelerator—you were too busy squinting at the darkened, narrowing road ahead of you to pay much attention to your speed.
Unfortunately for you, however, the cop car that suddenly appeared behind you had definitely been paying attention to how fast you’d been going, as blue and red lights began cycling and lighting up the inside of your car.
“Shit, shit, shit!” you exclaimed through gritted teeth as you slowed to a crawl and pulled off to the side of the road. You shut the engine off, your headlights still shining off into the black void in front of you, and let your hands rest on the steering wheel. This was the last thing you needed—a dark and winding road in the middle of nowhere, no signal on your phone, and now some backwoods cop who was probably wanting to play big and tough to scare the out-of-towner. Your heart raced in your chest, panic settling in, as you peered into your side mirror to watch the cop slowly get out of his car, lingering for a moment as he looked around before he started towards you.
As he got closer, you caught a glance at him—he had dark hair, and seemed a bit older than you expected. He looked tired, but in a charming sort of way, the way people look when their internal tuning fork has been struck just a few too many times and they’re on the verge of a breakdown. Something about him was unsettling but attractive, and as you tried to slow your breathing, you supposed, in a sick way, that there were worse-looking people to be pulled over by if you had to be pulled over at all. He approached your car, looking as though he were already exhausted of your interaction, and knocked on your window; you hurriedly rolled it down, fingers shaking.
“Evening, officer,” you croaked, a saccharine smile plastered across your weary, anxious face. “How can I help you?”
He glared at you a moment, his dark eyes intense and unnerving, before abruptly asking, “Do you know how fast you were going?”
You cringed, expecting perhaps a little bit of polite, small-town small-talk before getting right into the matter at hand. “Um, well, I dunno, I wanna say maybe… 60? 65?”
“Try 72,” he condescended. “Do you know what the speed limit is around here?”
“Ah well, I’m not too sure, it’s pretty dark and I didn’t see any signs.”
He chuckled derisively. “Probably because you blew right past the sign. And for the record, it’s 55.”
“Oh, I see.” You lowered your eyes, trying to consider your next move. “I can’t even believe I did that, officer. Look, I am so sorry. It won’t happen again.”
He raised an eyebrow. “You’re sorry?”
You offered him a grin as you placed your hands on the window frame—time to turn on your patented charm and hope for the best. “Yeah, I’m really sorry I even bothered you, officer—” you squinted at the nameplate on his chest pocket “—Officer Hackett. It’s just so late, and I’m really tired. I’m just trying to get upstate for a wedding, and it’s so dark—I was focused on the road, and clearly I wasn’t paying attention.”
“That’s an understatement,” he snipped. “You could have killed someone going that fast.”
“I mean, there’s not exactly anyone out here except for you and me, is there?” you asked suggestively.
He shifted, seeming a little surprised by your forwardness. “Well… there can be folks out here sometimes. Animals too.”
“I’ve had to avoid a few squirrels in my day, I think I’d probably survive.”
“These ain’t exactly squirrels,” he scoffed.
You looked up at him, wide-eyed. “What, are there bears?”
He looked off into the dark of the road ahead of you, seemingly distracted. “Yeah. Bears.”
“Sounds dangerous. Good thing you’re out here to protect drivers like me, officer,” you flirted. You saw a flush start to creep across his face, and his eyes darted around; it seemed like your charms were having an effect on him after all. “So… can I go?”
“W-what? No, of course not, you were speeding.”
“Aw, come on, officer. It’s late, I’ve got that wedding to get to tomorrow evening, and I’m sure you have a wife to get home to?”
“No, ma’am, I do not,” he huffed, seeming a little rattled.
You rested your chin in your hand as you looked up at him, blinking softly. “Oh. Then a girlfriend, perhaps?”
“No, I—look, what is your point?” he said, refusing to allow his eyes to meet yours for more than a moment.
“I’m just saying, I have somewhere else to be, and I’m just assuming a handsome gentleman like you must too, so I’ll agree to be more careful and we can call it good. What do you say, officer? Do a good citizen a favor and let me keep passing through the middle of… well, where are we exactly?”
“You’re in North Kill, ma’am.”
“North Kill? That’s certainly ominous, isn’t it?” you chuckled.
He sighed, finally returning his gaze to you, his dark eyes boring a hole right through you. He placed his wide hands on the window frame on either side of yours and leaned in, his voice low. “You think you’re being real cute, don’t you?”
“Maybe? You tell me officer,” you smirked, as you titled your head towards him.
“Okay, that’s enough,” he said, sounding rattled, as he took a few hasty steps backwards away from you. “Step out of the car, ma’am.” Your mouth hung open. “What? But I didn’t—” “I said step out of the car.” He was more forceful this time, a sternness in his tone that both frightened you and—strangely, secretly—excited you.
“Fine, fine, I’ll get out of the car.” You threw up your hands and flung the car door open. Your legs felt like columns of jelly as you planted them on the concrete; you told yourself it must be from the extended hours you’d been stuck in the driver’s seat and the adrenaline rush of being pulled over, but you knew, deep in the recesses of your mind, that it was the situation—the isolated setting, the way you seem to have flustered the handsome cop with your charms, the fact that he seemed to be reaching his breaking point with you and had suddenly turned from annoyed to authoritarian—that had an unexpected heat building between your trembling legs.
Officer Hackett looked you up and down as you stood next to your car. “Have you been drinking tonight?”
“What?” You shook your head. “No, of course not.”
He folded his arms across his chest, his stance widening as he looked at you like prey. “Then walk a straight line for me. Heel to toe.”
You composed yourself, took a breath, preparing to turn the charm back on; you were the one who had initiated flirtation, you weren’t going to allow him to have the upper hand. You smiled demurely, and gave a wink. “Why? You wanna watch me walk away, officer?”
He stared at you with half-lidded eyes. “Ma’am, just do as I say.”
“Yes, sir,” you said with a lilt. As you walked slowly in front of your car, the headlights illuminating you, you made a show of swinging your hips with each step, your thin cotton shorts (the ones that were perfect for sitting comfortably in your car but not much else) crept up your thighs, exposing more and more of your legs as you walked heel-to-toe as instructed.
“O-okay, I think that’s enough,” he choked, after you’d completed a few paces.
“Well?” you asked, hands on your hips, an eyebrow raised questioningly as you strutted back to your car. “Am I drunk or not?”
He looked you up and down and opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out. Finally he sputtered, “You think you’re hot stuff, don’t you?”
“I’ll let you be the judge of that, Officer Hackett.”
He smirked, running his tongue across his lower lip. “You know, I gotta say, for such a lovely thing, you’ve got a real smart mouth on you.”
“Do you say that to everyone you pull over or am I just special?”
The look on his face, the way his dark eyes seemed to turn coal-black, told you that you had finally pushed him as far as you possibly could. “You know what? Just… alright. You’re gonna be like that? Put your hands on the hood of the car and spread your legs.”
“A little forward, don’t you think?” you said mockingly, mouth agape, as you strolled towards the front of your car.
“Don’t make me tell you twice.” He walked behind you and placed a hand on your upper back; you gasped as he pushed you forward, forcing your open palms onto the still-warm steel of the hood of the car.
You stood there, utterly still, your heart drumming away in your ribcage, as you stared ahead into your empty SUV. You heard him pacing slowly behind you; it sounded like he was a few steps away. You expected him to say something, anything, but moments passed without him uttering a word. What was he doing? Was he just trying to unnerve you, get back at you for toying with him? Was he going to do something to you? You felt heat rising in your face, your ears beginning to burn, as you took one shaky breath after another while you waited.
And waited.
And waited.
The world grew noiseless around you, the sounds of your own pulse and the occasional rustle of leaves in the distance the only things you could hear; the night was deathly still and you felt like you were the only two people in the world left alive. If he was trying to frighten you, it was working.
Suddenly, you heard him approach you, his shoes grinding into the gravel, and you could feel the heat of his body bearing down on you. He stood next to you as he slid one hand—warm, firm, trembling just the slightest bit—up your bare arm, onto your shoulder, and onto the back of your neck. He gripped you slightly as he grew closer, his face hovering next to you yours, his lips nearly brushing your ear as he whispered, “Now what am I going to do with you?”
You inhaled sharply and stammered, tripping on your words as you tried to come up with an answer, your brain suddenly filled with a haze of arousal as your mind started to wander. He had you trapped here, alone and vulnerable, without another soul for miles it seemed—what could he do to you? “I—I don’t know, officer… w-what are you going to do with me?”
“This.” He loosened his grip on the back of your neck and let his hand glide down your spine as he positioned himself behind you. He wrapped one arm around your waist, pulling you firmly against him, as he placed his other hand on your hip and slowly, painstakingly, slid it around to the front of you, pausing as his palm landed at the apex of your thighs, his fingertips lightly brushing against your warmth, barely clothed in your thin shorts and panties. He pressed his fingers down, rubbing firm circles over your sensitive clit; you let out a groan as you felt a rush of heat between your thighs and a painful ache begin to build.
“Is this, um—is this standard procedure, officer?” you choked out as your whole body shivered at his touch.
“It is if I say it is.” He slid his hand down the front of your shorts and let his fingers snake their way into your panties. He ran two fingers along your slit, taking his time to explore every bit of your slick, swollen lips. “Goddamn it, you’re so wet. You wanted this, didn’t you?”
“I guess so,” you mumbled as your eyes fluttered shut.
“You guess so? Come on now. Shaking your ass at me while you walked, asking me if I had a wife, the way you cooed and blinked those pretty eyes at me… that feels like a little more than ‘I guess so.’” He parted your lips and pressed two fingers against your entrance, teasing your quivering hole as you whined, desperate for him to enter you. He finally obliged, sliding two thick fingers into your waiting cunt, dipping them in and out slowly.
“Fuck,” you hissed as you felt yourself clench around him, any resolve or sense of dignity you had in you quickly unraveling, as you leaned into the pleasure washing over you.
“Mmm, not just trying to get out of a ticket, then?” he teased as he twisted his hand and pressed his thumb on your swollen clit.
“N-no,” you whimpered as you started to grind your ass against him, rocking your hips in the same motions as his fingers.
“That’s right. You were working too hard to get me riled up just for that, huh?” He continued sliding his fingers in and out of you, pushing them in as far as he could, his hand quickly becoming drenched in your wetness. “I think you wanted me to take you like this,” he growled in your ear before he dragged his tongue up your neck, tasting the saltiness of your skin.
You couldn’t respond, your mind rendered empty as you felt your legs start to tense and your pussy quiver and quake around him. It was too much—you could only let out a string of sharp cries and moans as his fingers caressed your most tender spots, his thumb still dancing over your clit.
“Mm, finally got you speechless, huh? Too distracted to run that pretty little mouth.”
You had nothing left you could say except for a few exclamations of “Fuck!” as your legs started to wobble under you; he gripped you more firmly around your waist to hold you steady as he began making frantic motions over your clit and pushed his fingers as deep into you as he could, his knuckles pressing against your tender flesh. With a few last thrusts, you felt yourself clamp down around him as your whole body tensed and air was forced out of your lungs; you came with such a sudden jolt that you knew you would have crumbled to the ground if it weren’t for his arm wrapped around you. It was deliciously overwhelming, the feeling of him pressed against you as you cried out into the still air of the night, his fingers still deep within you as you spasmed and convulsed; you had never felt as defenseless and exposed as you did at this moment, your body quaking uncontrollably as you were detained by the side of the road, your bodies wreathed in the ambient light from your headlights and the sliver of moon hanging in the inky sky.
He slowly removed his hand from your shorts, his fingers deliberately dragging over your wet slit, the overstimulation causing a last few shocks to rocket through your body. Your mind was a mess of flurried thoughts—you wanted to ask him why, wanted to run, wanted to collapse, wanted to cry for more, wanted to lay down in the backseat of his squad car and beg him to fuck you in the cool stillness of the night. You opened your mouth but couldn’t sort through enough of your jumbled thoughts to come up with anything other than a garbled “Thank you” that hitched in your throat.
“My pleasure, ma’am,” he rasped. He walked around to the side of you, leaning against the car hood and diligently wiping off his hand before tucking his handkerchief back into his pocket. “Think you can walk okay?”
“Uh-huh,” you replied as you gained your footing, dragging your feet closer together, leaning your weight on your palms.
“Then c’mere.” Before you could protest, he grabbed you by the wrist and yanked you around to the side of your car that faced away from the road; you stumbled as you trailed behind, your legs still unsteady and practically useless. He pulled you towards him as he leaned back against your car door, gripping your arm tighter and pulling your hand down to the front of his slacks; you could feel his erection straining against the stiff fabric.
“Feel what you did to me with all that teasing?” he groaned as he pressed himself into your palm. “I’d like you to do a little something for me now. Get on your knees.”
You wordlessly complied, dropping onto the ground below, the gravel and dirt immediately grinding into the tender flesh of your bare knees.
He breathed heavily as he reached down and stroked the top of your head, his fingers drifting down to stroke your cheek. “You’re so pretty like this,” he murmured as he unbuckled his belt, unzipped and unbuttoned his pants. “Now why don’t you put that smart mouth of yours to good use, hm?”
He slid himself out of the fly of his boxers, and you took a moment to admire his cock; it was thick, with a light upward curve, the head swollen and pink, waiting for your touch. You gripped him with one hand, teasing the tip with your tongue, causing him to quietly gasp. You traced your eager tongue down his length, winding it around the shaft, before taking him in your lips. He let out a sharp hiss as your warm mouth enveloped him, and his hands grasped at your hair to anchor himself. He swelled and pulsed as you slowly drew him in and out of your warm, wet mouth, hollowing your cheeks as you reached the tip; with every pull, his breaths grew quicker and more ragged, his groans deeper and longer. As you reached up and placed your palms on his thighs to steady yourself, it was clear that your teasing had stirred something deep within him—just the same as he had had done to you—and the shallow thrusts of his hips as you greedily took him deeper in your mouth told you it wouldn’t be long before his frenzy would reach a fever pitch.
He slid one hand down to the back of your head and held you in place as he pushed himself down your throat, forcing rivulets of spit to dribble out of your mouth and drip onto the dirt under you. He fucked your willing mouth in ragged, uneven strokes, as his moans grew even louder and his movements frantic. Before long, you felt his hips begin to shudder and the muscles of his thighs tense under your palms; he slowed down and gave a shivering inhale, and hot ropes of salty cum shot down your throat. You held him still in the warmth of your mouth, slowly lapping him with your tongue, pulling every last spasm you could out of him, taking every last drop of him that you could, before slowly, torturously, pulling away, releasing the head of his cock with a wet pop. He stood for a moment, panting, his breath harsh and ragged, as he closed his eyes and leaned his head back against your car.
You stayed still on your knees in front of him, suddenly reminded of the gravel and dirt pressing into your flesh now that you were without distraction, and winced a little.
“That was… that was something,” he finally uttered between unsteady breaths.
“I aim to please, officer,” you grinned as he shakily reassembled himself, sloppily tucking his shirt back into his pants and fumbling a bit with the buckle.
He retrieved his handkerchief from his pocket and leaned down to you, wiping the errant drool from your chin and the corner of your mouth before extending a hand to you to help you up from the ground. Your aching legs crumbled as you put weight on them, pitching you forward into him; you shared an awkward moment of unintended intimacy as your hands gripped his chest and your face came close to his, your lips almost touching, before you quickly gained your footing again and took a few hasty steps backwards. You felt a deep heat rising in your cheeks as you looked away from him; would it have been that awful to kiss him? you thought to yourself, before deeming yourself silly for even entertaining the thought at all.
You glanced down at your knees, covered in dirt, small pebbles ground into your inflamed flesh, pinpricks of blood starting to drip in spots. You saw the officer glancing down at them as well—he leaned down and brushed them off with his wide hands. You mustered an unsteady smile. “Good thing I’m wearing a long dress to the wedding. People might get ideas about what I’ve been up to recently.”
“Would they be wrong?” he asked, his voice still heavy with lust.
“I suppose not,” you shrugged. You crossed your arms, hugging yourself a little as the night air started to chill you to your car, goosebumps forming on your exposed limbs. You dug the toe of your sneaker into the dirt. “So, does this mean I’m free to go, officer?”
He chuckled softly. “I think I can let things slide, just this once. But don’t let me catch you speeding like that again around here.”
“Or what?” you taunted.
He walked back over to where you stood, and gripped your chin with his thumb and forefinger, tilting your head up to meet his gaze, his face hovering close, his lips nearly brushing yours as he spoke. “You don’t want to know.”
“If you say so,” you uttered, sucking in a sharp breath.
He ran his hands down your arms, giving your wrists a squeeze, before he started to walk away. He paused as he reached the rear of your car. “You know,” he said, placing one hand on the back of his neck, “there’s a motel not too far from here. Harbinger Motel. Just keep driving for about fifteen minutes and take the first road you see on the right. Follow it for a little while, and the motel will be on the left. Can’t miss it. Probably be better off staying the night there and getting back on the road in the morning.”
You leaned against the side of your car, one hand on your hip, head tilted to one side. “You know, I gotta say, it’s more than just a little creepy out here; I’d feel a lot safer if I had a member of law enforcement with me this evening. Care to escort me?”
A sudden redness spread across his face as he offered you a bashful grin before turning away. “Have a good night, ma’am. Stay safe.”
“You too, officer.”
You climbed back into your car and turned the key, the familiar purr of the engine and the vibration under your feet grounding you, returning you back to reality. You looked in your rearview mirror, half-expecting to see nothing but darkness, wondering in your haze if everything had just been some fever dream and you were really just pulled off into a ditch, passed out from the hours of driving. Instead, the weakened legs, the wetness between your thighs, and sore jaw were confirmed as real when you saw the patrol vehicle still parked behind you, its lights dimmed, Officer Hackett standing by his open car door. You offered a wave out your window as you carefully drove off back into the night, still struggling to make out the road ahead and hoping you wouldn’t miss your turn.
You continued on the road as instructed, keeping your eyes as wide as you could, making sure you didn’t overlook the hotel; you were exhausted, your head empty, your only thoughts being how much you couldn’t wait to wash the dirt off your sore knees and collapse into bed. As you focused your eyes on the cracked grey pavement before you, you wondered if you’d ever be able to tell anyone about the night’s events, if anyone would ever believe something as cliché as the corrupt cop taking advantage of the willing out-of-towner on the side of a desolate road in the middle of nowhere; if it weren’t for the fact you could almost still feel his wide fingers inside you, still taste his cock on your tongue, still hear his low, quiet groans echoing in your ears, you wouldn’t even believe it yourself.
You sighed with relief as you finally saw the Harbinger Motel up ahead, its looming, glowing red sign hard to miss even in the foggy night. As you approached, you glanced up into your rearview mirror, and just for a moment, you could’ve sworn you saw the glint of a car following behind you in the blackness.
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More of the Purple Na’vi twins Ley’aka (f) and At’wahey (m)
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first flight [azriel x reader]
[not my gif]
pairing: (acotar) azriel x reader
description: azriel is the one who carries you when you and part of the inner circle need to fly somewhere, as you are the only on without wings, but things can never go as planned with you and your friends
inspired by test drive from httyd
word count: 2287
warnings: near death experiences, vulgar gestures obvi
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drunk and obsessed
Summary: a little something about a drunk steve. in the mafia steve universe
Pairing: drunk!mafia! steve rogers x reader
Warning: none rlly
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“Baby, baby,” you giggle, a bit tipsy, as you try your hardest to fit the key into the door's lock. “I can’t open the door with you all over me.”
You laugh once more when Steve begins kissing your neck once again. His trimmed beard tickles your neck.
On the other hand, Steve had a bit too much to drink. And that's all your doing.
You know he feels he can never have too much to drink at these events, especially with you there. The events are filled with some of the most inimical people worldwide. So he always wants to be on his A-game for you. But that’s what body guards are for, you had argued. Pushing for him to have the time of his life with some of his friends.
Now here he was: drunk and his body cradling yours, as the two of you struggle to get in the house.
“I just love you, baby,” his words slur as he kisses your cheek.
“I love you too,” You tell him, so close to getting the fucking key to fit.
“I can’t wait to get you inside,” his voice rich and husky as he seals his promise.
“Baby, I don’t even think you could get it up right now.”
“Woah, woah, woah,” Steve removes himself as your shell, both arms up in defense while he takes a few steps back.
When your senses finally catch up that he’s no longer hovering over you. You quickly turn, just stopping him before he tumbles down the step.
You hold both his hands, then let one go to grab the side of this face, “Honey, your drunk off your ass right now—“
“I am not! You just called my game weak,”
“That’s not what I said, but I need you to stand silently so I can open the door, okay?”
“Okay, pretty” he answers, landing a soft peck on your lips.
You smile as you finally open the door, reaching behind you to clasp Steve’s hand so you can pull him in.
You close the door behind him, toeing your shoes off, giggling when he has trouble with his. But five ‘fucks’ later, he finally gets it done.
“Woooo!!” Steve shoots his hand up in a v, as if his team just won the super bowl.
You’re quick to drop his arms back down to his sides, “Shhh, baby. You’re screaming.”
“I am?! I’m sorry,” his hands cup your cheeks as he pulls you for yet another kiss.
“Honey,” you laugh into his sloppy kiss. “Let’s go to bed, hm? And get some water into you.”
“I don’t wanna do bed,” he whines. “I wanna do you,” he smirks, moving one hand to grip your hip.
“Tomorrow, okay? I’m really tired.” You feign a dramatic yawn.
“You are? Okay, that’s okay, okay?” he kisses your nose this time.
Drunk sex isn’t something that hasn’t been checked off your and Steve’s list. But Steve is sloshed and can barely walk straight, so sex would not be on the menu for tonight.
“Let’s head up.” You wrap his arm over your shoulder, walking up the steps carefully.
-
He’s sitting at the end of the bed, his coat beside him, as you unbutton his dress shirt. You would’ve let him do it himself, but he was struggling with his lack of hand-eye coordination. Playfully slapping your hand every time your hands got close to his shirt. Giggling and joking that there would be no sexy times. That was until he had made you oath you’d keep your hands innocent.
Ever your affectionate, drunk lover.
“Are you sure you feel alright? Don't need to throw up or anything?” You ask Steve once again.
“I’m fine, I’m fine,” he tells you then takes another swig of water.
It only takes ten minutes until he’s in his sweatpants, with no boxers (under his request). You’re changed and ready for bed, tired out from an eventful day. Steve’s favorite movie playing in the background.
Steve cuddles up close, half his brawny body on yours, his leg splayed over yours, and his head nestled on your chest.
Your fingers run through his hair soothingly.
“Y/n?”
You hum a response.
“Thank you for taking care of me, I love you too,”
“I love you too.” you laugh breathily at his mistake.
A comfortable pause ensues.
“Y/n?” His hand shimmies under your t-shirt, to caress your soft skin.
“Yes, honey,” you can’t help but laugh at the way he calls for your attention. You don’t think you’ve heard your actual name from his mouth so consistently.
“I think I wanna— I know I want to start trying soon. I wanna be a dad, a good dad.”
Your hand stills.
“What?” Your voice is quiet and relayed with shock. Your heart no longer in your chest.
He wants to try. The two of you tied the knot two months ago. However, talk of whether you guys wanted to start a family or not was shut down by Steve every time. You never wanted to push, but you also wanted to know what to expect.
Either way, He was adamant that he wasn’t ready. There was no way he could raise a baby to be half a decent human being with his trauma lingering in the shadows, among other things
He sits up abruptly, “I know, I know. I’m not sober, but I’m not lying either. I’m ready, honey… if you are.” He grabs your hand and kisses your knuckles.
“Okay,” you smile, “If you remember, we’ll continue this conversation tomorrow?”
“Okay.” He kisses your cheek before cuddling into you once again. “I wanna be the perfect dad, y/n. The best.”
“You will be.”
You tell him sweetly, your eyes stinging as you run your fingers through his hair once more.
-
a/n: srry it's been so long, college keeps me busy 24/7! here's this as i try and finish binky fairy pt. 2
if you enjoyed pls don’t forget to reblog or give feedback if ur up to it <3
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