Loid who loses his cool when he sees some guy trying to hit on you and is so flirty and charming…..he wonders if he could make you feel shy like that….make you have that sweet doe eyed look in your eye…..not knowing of course how smitten you are with him already- so he finds out by having your panties around your ankle later and two fingers inside you while he murmurs sweet nothings into your ear until you’re whimpering his name 🥺🥺💘
#𝐉𝐄𝐀𝐋𝐎𝐔𝐒𝐘 !! — 𝐋𝐎𝐈𝐃 𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐆𝐄𝐑.
tags: nsfw 18+, fem! reader, fingering, praise, jealous loid, pet names (pretty lady + pretty girl)
notes: MOANS THANK YOU GRAY BABY FOR THIS
in all his years of being a spy, loid likes to think he’s a rather calm man—he likes to pride himself in the way he pushes his emotions back and handles things rationally.
except right now, there’s a rather irrational itch in his hand to form a fist and punch the young baker in front of you right in the jaw, just to wipe the sly grin off his face.
“it’s on the house,” the man murmurs, handing you the slice of cake for anya, winking at the little girl as she stares at him with wide eyes. and then loid can’t help but clench his fists, narrowing his eyes at the stranger who thinks they’re doing his wife and his daughter a favor—never mind the fact that you’re not really his wife and she’s not really his daughter (or that he even wanted either in the first place.)
and loid forger isn’t really a man who faces threats he doesn’t think he can handle, but sweet talking and honeyed words and fragile smiles aren’t exactly his forte—and then he wonders…is that what you look for in a man? he’s not quite sure why it even matters, but there’s a sick feeling that pools in his gut, and now he feels like there’s something he’s got to prove.
and maybe his smile is a little tight lipped, and his words are a bit blunt natured, and his eyes aren’t as soft as they wink so smoothly (he doesn’t even wink at people—it’s a bit corny, he thinks), but he also doesn’t flirt with married women or bribe children with sweets—and he’d say that makes him a better man by default.
“oh, i don’t know if i can accept that,” you say shyly, shaking your head and staring at the baker with a doe eyed expression.
“c’mon,” the man chuckles, reaching over to pinch anya’s cheek from her spot in your arms, “i make plenty of cakes every day. but i don’t get to give a pretty lady and her cute little daughter one too often,” he says smoothly. and it doesn’t take a trained spy with years of experience to know that if loid felt your face right now, it’d be hot to the touch, and his eye twitches just a little at the corner.
and then you giggle—though a tad bit nervously—and loid simply can’t watch anymore of this.
“excuse me,” he clears his throat, gathering your attention back to him as the baker turns to look over at loid.
“oh, i’m sorry sir, do you know what you’d like—”
“actually we’re here together,” loid gestures between you and him, “the two of us.” there’s a little extra emphasis on the last part, and there’s a little twinkle in anya’s eyes that makes him wonder if she can see right through him (though he always finds himself wondering that.)
he hates to admit there’s a slight satisfaction at the way the man’s shoulders tense and his jaw tightens, and out of a purely bold and in-the-moment decision, he wraps his arm around your waist, pulling your figure flush against his side.
“well, thank you for the free cake. my daughter loves sweets,” he smiles tightly, “have a good day now.”
and before you can even get a word out, you’re pulled out of the bakery with a tug to your wrist, and a very quiet and very tense loid for the rest of the trip home.
——————————————————————————————
“loid, you’ve been a bit—oh,” you’re cut off by your back hitting the mattress, loid hovering over your with furrowed brows and a clenched jaw.
“you’re pretty,” he says simply, and you almost think he’s staring into your soul waiting for your response.
“oh, th-thank you,” you squeak, unsure of what else to say. you hope he doesn’t hover any closer, otherwise he might just hear the faint thumping of your heartbeat as it increases in rate.
“i think you’re quite lovely,” he adds, just for safe measure, “really, i do.” and then you register the small hint of desperation in his voice, almost like he’s begging you to understand what he’s trying to say, and you think back to the way he practically shoved you out of the bakery—and suddenly it makes sense. your hand cups his cheek, eyes softening in that precious little way that makes his cheeks dust over with a rosy hue.
“thank you, loid,” you hum, tracing over his cheekbone with your thumb.
you stare at each other for a moment—and then you will yourself to fight your nerves and lean in to close the gap, your lips planting themselves onto his.
it’s instantaneous, his response, the way he grunts against your lips, leaning in and pressing his own firmer against yours, hands gripping your waist tightly as his tongue explores your mouth. you gasp against his lips, and he feels an ache build between his legs, cock twitching as a tent forms in his pants.
“nobody should ever call you a pretty lady but me,” he growls against the shell of your ear, hand traveling to pull your pants and your underwear down until they pool at your ankles. you gasp as his digits just barely slide up and down against your folds, and he smirks at the way you’re already wet. “nobody gets to see all the pretty parts of you, do they?”
you whimper as he sinks his fingers past your folds, curling them to hit your sweet spot just right—and almost instantly, your lips part as a pretty little whine rips from your throat.
“do they?” he growls, stilling his fingers as he stares at you with a raised brow, waiting for your answer. shaking your head vigorously, you stare up at him with those same doe eyes—except they’re for him now, and he feels a wave of satisfaction hit him.
“n-no, only you,” you whine, “only you, loid.” rolling your hips, you try desperately to chase the friction from earlier. he chuckles lowly, and he’s almost surprised with himself as he plants a sweet, gentle little kiss to your forehead.
“that’s right,” he hums, fingers picking back up their movements, thrusting in and out of you as his palm glides over your clit. you moan, wrapping your arms around his neck, clinging to him tightly as your eyes squeeze shut in pleasure. “only me, isn’t that right? only ever look this adorable for me. bet that baker wishes he could see you like this,” he whispers against your ear, smiling smugly to himself as you shiver slightly, “already a mess on my fingers. how cute.”
“l-loid, please—”
“please what? want me to go faster?” you can only nod, wanton moans spilling past your lips as his fingers sink deeper into your walls, making him groan lowly at the way you squeeze around him. “no fun in that,” he chuckles, “look so perfect when i take my time with you. so perfect,” he presses one more kiss to the shell of your ear before leaving a trail of them down your neck.
“fuck—loid,” you whine, “f-feels good.”
“yeah? you look good too,” he murmurs. a small, petty (and quite frankly, still jealous) part of him almost wants to take you back to the bakery, wants to press your against the door of the bathroom and see how loud he can make you scream his name with his fingers alone, just so that baker knows who you’ve got eyes for.
but then again, he doesn’t think he wants anyone’s ears but his own the hear the sweet melody of your moans.
his fingers sink in and out of you, angling to hit the parts he’s learned in a matter of moments that make your thighs quake and your eyes roll back, and then his thumb rubs circles over your clit and you whine louder, voice cracking as you cry out his name.
“that’s it,” he encourages, “go ahead and let go, cum on my fingers, pretty girl.” the words are enough to send you over the edge, your voice lilting to a high pitched whine as you gush on his fingers, and loid feels his hardened cock strain against the material of his boxers as he feels you squeeze around his digits. he can’t help but wonder how you’d feel around him, how you’d look so much prettier when youre fucked out as you take his length instead—and suddenly, he wonders why he was ever jealous in the first place.
he doesn’t need sweet and charming words to make you fall apart, doesn’t even need to try before you’re dripping for him.
“‘m cumming—fuck, loid,” you gasp, and he presses tender kisses along your jaw, meeting your lips before he drinks in your whimpers.
“i know,” he grins against your lips, pecking them gently as you finish, panting to catch your breath, “you’ll cum again for me, right? look even prettier this time when you cum around my cock?”
and when you nod, hands desperately making their way to unbuckle his pants, he thinks maybe he has his own little charm—and he thinks he has you wrapped rather tightly around his finger.
god he makes me SO ILL. i want him SO BAD
we will also go ahead and assume anya wasn't around when this happened before anyone starts asking :,)
9K notes
·
View notes