Latest Posts by penelopevonsweets23 - Page 2

I want a two-hour spin off episode in which they are struggling to build ikea furniture

(changed colors a bit)

is this a marvel sci-fi tv show, or a fucking ROMANTIC COMEDY

fella is it gay to memorize the shape of your homie’s body?

asking for my friend Mobius M. Mobius

insane how clingy and touchy Loki and Mobius are when they’re together

relax bro ain’t no one taking it from you

can we talk about how INSANE it is that Loki suddenly becomes SO protective the second someone hurts Mobius / when he thinks Mobius might be in danger.

look at him. there’s no mischief there. he’s literally ready to unalive X5 if he dares do anything to Mobius

This whole scene I was thinking that this felt like a distressed newly wed gay couple fixing some some shit they got from IKEA.

strange love - king!steve harrington x loser fem!reader

everybody wants to know… if we fucked on the bathroom sink.

18+ ONLY MINORS GO AWAY!

warnings: mean!dom steve, steve is a dick, public sex, light degradation kink, unprotected penetrative sex, cream pie, reader cries, angsty angst

based on strange love by halsey

thank you as always to my love @onegirlmanytales for beta reading this at like 1 am. 😘

divider credit: @firefly-graphics

You shouldn’t have come to this stupid party.

And you wouldn’t have, if Steve hadn’t practically begged you to make an appearance. It was only going to lead to more heartbreak for you, having to watch him flirt with every girl in the room. It would end with you going home alone, wondering why you weren’t good enough to be on his arm. But you went anyway, your heart outweighing the logical side of your brain. You even made sure to wear your best dress, hoping to catch his eye. But Steve didn’t look your way the entire night, and you felt defeated.

It wasn’t until a piece of notebook paper was tossed at your head, unraveling the crumpled page to find a few words written in his familiar script. Meet me in the bathroom - Steve. You immediately slip the note into your purse, finishing the few remaining sips of the drink in your cup before you make your way to the second floor. You knew the male's house far too well now, having found yourself in his bed more times than you liked to admit.

It wasn’t supposed to happen like this, it was only meant to get back at your cheating asshole of an ex-boyfriend, Troy. You found him in bed with Vicki Carmichael, all because you weren’t ready to have sex with him. As much as it hurt you, part of you was incredibly relieved. Something wasn’t cliquing with the two of you, and deep down you didn’t want him to be your first. Troy and Steve were good friends, so it felt right to ask Steve to be the one to take your virginity. Telling yourself it would royally piss Troy off, but you’d always secretly had a crush on Steve since middle school. That was your real reason, not that you’d ever admit it.

Steve was extremely willing to grant your request, but what neither of you expected was that he would keep coming back for more. You had him wrapped around your finger, without even realizing it. But you both made a promise to keep the whole thing a secret, any plans of revenge being thrown out the window. Now that you weren’t dating Troy you had gone back to your quiet loser status, which you preferred anyway. But Steve couldn’t have that ruining his reputation, so you went along with it. But it didn’t stop the two of you from hooking up multiple times a week, which led you to the present moment.

Your breathing was labored, partially due to the hand covering your mouth. You could hear the bass of the music from outside the bathroom door, so there was no need to be extra quiet. But with Steve it was a necessity… especially in such a public place. With anyone who could press their ear to the door and figure out what was happening. You were bent over the bathroom sink, Steve fucking into you with such a ferocity it made your knees wobble. He had barely let the bathroom door shut before he was on you, tugging your panties down your legs.

“God you’re such a little tease you know that? Wearing this fucking dress, getting me all worked up.”

He’s growling in your ear, whimpering against his hand as he pounds into your cervix. Steve is gripping your hip so hard you know he’ll leave bruises behind, but the harsh action only turns you on more. Knowing how desperate he was to have you, made you putty in his hands. Your own hand is moving between your thighs, finding your bundle of nerves and circling it with your fingers. You glance into the mirror in front of you, watching his face as he continues to ram himself inside you. His honey brown hair sticking to his forehead, eyes meeting yours in the reflection. There’s a knowing smirk on his lips, as he watches you intensely.

“Hm, look at how pathetic you look already honey… letting me use you like a whore. But you like that don’t you? You like being my whore?”

You find yourself nodding, still unable to speak. Steve had fucked any coherent thoughts from you, seeing how ruined he had made you already. Mascara was streaming down your cheeks, looking at your fucked out reflection as he continues to pound into you from behind. Your eyes can't help but focus on him now, seeing how his mouth falls open groaning as you continue to pulse around his cock. He looked so pretty like this, and while you had witnessed it many times now— part of you still was so mesmerized by him. You can feel your orgasm bubbling up in your belly, continuing to rub your clit faster.

“S-Steve!!”

You cry out against his hand, his name muffled as your eyes roll back as your orgasm crashes over you. But Steve doesn’t let up his pace, your knees shaking as he fucks you even harder.

“I know you can cum harder than that honey, do it again.”

He nearly growls in your ear, dropping his hand from your mouth and knocking your own out of the way to continue to rub your overly sensitive clit. You’d barely come down from your first high before he has you barreling towards another one. Steve is hitting that sweet spot inside you with perfect precision. Your eyes meet once more in the reflection, that cocky look plastered on his face as you feel yourself falling over the edge again. Gripping the counter with one hand and covering your mouth with the other to muffle the scream that rips itself from your lungs. Your scream mixed with how much you’ve soaked his cock is enough for Steve to break, painting your inner walls with his release.

He finally stills his hips at your deepest point, in an attempt to keep his cum buried inside you. The thought makes you feel a little dizzy, as it was Steve’s secret way of marking you as his. Both of you attempting to catch your breath, the sounds of the party carrying on as if nothing had happened. Steve finally releases your hips, as you grip the counter to hold yourself up. You whimper as he slides out of you, suddenly feeling empty. The male is quick to tuck himself away in his jeans, roughly pulling your panties up your legs. You can feel his cum beginning to pool in the lacy material, the dirtiness of it making you flush more.

“Wait a few minutes before you come back downstairs, yeah?”

Is all he says before he’s slipping out of the bathroom, running a hand through his thick brown hair. The door closes softly, and that feeling of shame washes over you again. You shouldn’t be surprised by this, it always ended the same way each time. But you can’t stop the tears from flooding your vision, sitting down on the edge of the tub. You let the traitor tears fall for a few minutes before standing once more, trying to collect yourself before returning to the party. You cleaned up the mascara from your cheeks, fixing your hair before finally descending the stairs on shaky legs. Making your way back into the sea of people, what you find in the living room feels like a punch to the gut.

Steve is on the couch, another girl already straddling his lap with her tongue down his throat. You can only stand to watch for a moment, bolting out of the room and into the kitchen in search of another drink. Thankfully the kitchen was almost empty, except for a familiar brunette sipping on a soda. You don’t say anything to the male, grabbing a bottle of vodka and bringing the rim to your lips. Jonathan looks at you concerned, immediately rushing to your side in an attempt to get the bottle from you. You give him a dirty look before taking another swig, before he finally wrestles the bottle from you.

“Hey, that’s enough now. I think I should take you home.”

The only reason Jonathan was even there in the first place was to be your ride, he hated these parties. And he especially hated Steve Harrington. But he was your best friend, and he would’ve done anything for you. And right now anything consists of getting you home before you do something stupid. Jonathan sets the bottle on the counter before lightly setting his hand on your waist to guide you through the house to the front door. The vodka you had just chugged was starting to kick in, as you stumbled alongside him. What you didn’t notice in your drunken state though was a pair of honey eyes watching you from across the room, jaw clenched in jealousy as Jonathan helped you out into the warm summer night.

there will be a follow up part or two to this, don’t you worry.

thank you so much for reading! comments and reblogs are always appreciated! 💞

tagging: @xxhellfirebunnyxx @lilthbunny @battymunson @tylevx @inourtownofhawkins @5tud10-54r4h @probablyin-bed

bestfriend texts with nick !! 🧸

— best friend texts with nick sturniolo. ⸰ 𖥔 ͙

warnings: swearing, mentions of alcohol, corny, not proofread.

a/n: i love making the text fics AMENNN

Hot Tub

jj maybank x reader

Requested: You can read the request here.

wc: 888

warnings: SMUT

There was a feeling of guilt that settled at the pit of your stomach. You didn't mean for this to happen. It all went too far.

It all started when that blonde boy looked into your eyes and smiled. Damn him and his charm.

You and JJ had been sneaking around behind John Bs back for a while now. As much as you hate to admit it, you felt bad and guilty about it. Not guilty enough to stop however.

The château air was humid as you laid with your brothers best friend. JJ was tracing patterns on your thigh.

"JJ we should get up I have laundry to do."

"No wait stay please." JJ whined.

He shifted to being on top of you.

"I'll make it worth your while." JJ smirked.

He was ghosting over your lips when he leaned in and slotted your lips together. The kiss was delicate as you explored each other's mouths.

JJ moved down to your neck and started sucking.

"JJ Please." You stuttered.

"Come on baby let me mark you up."

JJ continued his sucking until there was a deep purple hickey left on your skin.

Pleased with himself, JJ went back to your lips dropping a languid kiss to your lips.

"Fuck I have to go to work." JJ exclaimed as he pulled out his phone and checked the time.

"Bye baby." JJ spoke as you got up from the bed to give him a hug.

After saying bye to your boyfriend you went out into the kitchen. Looking in the fridge you didn't see much food. You decided you were gonna go grocery shopping.

——

When you came back from the store John B was at the house back from whatever it was he was doing.

You walked by your brother when he suddenly stood up and inspected you.

"Woah there girly. What's that on your neck?"

Turing red from embarrassment, you tried to cover it. "Oh it's nothing don't worry about it."

John B who has seen in clearly already asked, "Who gave you that?"

"Um just some touron." You spoke.

"Right well cover up will you." John B stated.

"mhm whatever." You spoke as you brushed passed him.

———-

The next night you and JJ decided to go hot tubbing.

You entered the outside area of the château in your red bikini. There was lights wrapped around the trees and the hot tub was ready, waiting patiently for you to enter.

JJ descended the porch stairs holding a beer. 

"Hop in princess." JJ commanded.

You sighed as the warm water engulfed your legs and you slowly sunk in.

JJ was quick to follow, entering the water and cracking open his beer.

JJ was already flustered. Seeing you in that bikini had his swim shorts tightening around his crotch.

"Come here." JJ beckoned you.

You swam over to him smirking.

"I know that look." You spoke. He had hunger in his eyes.

"What look there's no look." JJ protested.

Once you were close enough JJ took ahold of your waist and gave you one of his signature smiles.

JJ went to cup your cheek and drew you in for a hungry kiss. He was eager. It got more heated as it progressed, your lips locking together and devouring each other.

You felt your heart pumping and JJ felt his blood rush through his veins.

He started trailing kisses down your neck and dropping at the base to suck harshly at your pulse point.

He sucked, bit and licked up your neck producing dark purple marks.

JJ then proceeded to move to your tits. He kissed on the spot where your boob hung out of the bikini top.

"I'm in heaven." JJ whispered into your skin.

You laughed and then let out a moan as he moved to your other breast and sucked a spot showing teeth he nibbled on the area. He then soothed it with his tongue.

"JJ." You panted, "John B is just inside."

He lifted his head up and mumbled, "Don't care."

He continued leave dark marks on your boobs.

He then pushed your bikini to the side and sucked on your nipple.

With his left hand he used it to squeeze the other boob his mouth wasn't on.

He then grabbed your bikini top and lifted it off you. Then went back to sucking your nipple on the other boob as he had more access.

You let out a moan and JJ was feral.

"I need you now." JJ rasped.

"Please." You whimpered.

JJ was quick to take off his swim trunks and pushed down your bottoms. You positioned yourself over his length and sat down on his cock.

JJ let out an animalistic groan as you moaned out in pleasure. You started to move your hips and bounce on him. JJ's hands were already guiding your movements.

"Don't stop!" JJ exclaimed.

"mmm I won't." You called.

JJ felt euphoric as he trusted up into you. The hot water doing its job in assisting his movements.

"JJ! I'm close." You whined.

He took a hand and started rubbing your clit in an attempt to make you cum first.

John B walked out from the château and was scarred.

"What the fuck!"

"You guys!" John B yellled as he covered his eyes.

"JJ i'm gonna kill you."

Can you do a jjsmut where his BEREAL goes off during sex an their friends and his teammates react reader has hickies all over her chest and neck and tied up

pairing: jj maybank x fem!reader

warnings: smut, vaginal sex

a/n: another blurb! i hope you guys like this one and im planning to get back into writing full fics soon 🤞🏻

nav. // m.list // taglist

not my gif. credits to owner.

“You feel so fucking good” JJ groaned in your ear as he roughly pounded into you. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as your release neared. He was close too, as his thrusts were becoming sloppier and he was forcefully gripping the sheets.

*ping!* JJ’s phone sounded from the nightstand next to you. It was the familiar sound of a BeReal notification. You rolled your eyes at the horrible timing but paid it no attention before JJ abruptly stopped his thrusts. You shot him a confused and irritated look as reached for the phone while he was still buried inside of you balls-deep.

“No way. Are you seriously stopping for a BeReal?” you asked with a bewildered expression on your face. “Sorry baby. Gotta be real for the BeReal” JJ said with a smile on his face before he pulled out of you. He stood in front of you while you were still in bed and pointed the rear camera at you.

“Are you insane?! Do you see how I look right now?” You yelled, looking down at yourself. Your hair was a total mess, you were completely covered in hickeys, and the bedsheets and pillows were all over the place— not to mention the fact that you were fully naked. “Yes, I do. And you look beautiful, as always” he said with a wink before returning his attention to his phone. You sighed but couldn’t help a small smile from appearing on your face that you hid from him. You covered your breasts with the blanket and used your arms to hide your face, even though it didn’t help much as you were still very recognizable.

“So pretty” JJ said to himself as he took the photo, making a silly face for the front camera. He stared at it with a satisfied smile before climbing into bed with you and placing his phone back on the nightstand. He was just about to kiss you when you were interrupted by the notifications from his phone. The vibrations from the first one, the second, and the numerous ones that followed caused the nightstand to shake. Your eyes grew wide and your brows furrowed, slightly concerned about who might have seen the photo. You snatched the phone and scrolled through the notifications, taking note of everyone who had replied to the BeReal with reaction pictures. John B., Kiara, his teammates, people you’ve never even heard of before— basically, all the pogues. The majority of them either laughed or looked absolutely astonished.

“JJ! Oh my god. Was that picture really necessary?!” you shouted as you violently smacked him with your pillow. “You never told me you had that many people on BeReal!”

“Ouch!” He yelled before holding you down by your arms and gently kissing your neck. “Don’t worry about it, sweetheart. Just needed to remind them that you’re mine”

comments and reblogs are very much appreciated since they keep me motivated to write more!!

🏷 tags (join here): @tpwkweasley7 @hthej @vxntxque @goingbackt0505 @hybridluv @uhhhidk9

What John B Doesn't Know

JJ Maybank x reader

Trigger warnings: unprotected sex in a hot tub

Summary: You and JJ have some fun behind your brother's back. What John B doesn't know won't hurt him, right?

JJ and I were the only ones left in the hot tub by the end of the night. He sat directly across from me, eyeing me up and down as I watched my brother disappear into the chateau. I could have sworn he didn’t have a care in the world, almost silenting begging for us to be caught. Not even waiting a full 2 seconds before demanding for me. 

“Come here,” He motioned me over to him, grabbing my hips when I was close enough and pulling me into his lap. “I thought he’d never leave.” He growled before grabbing the back of my neck and smashing his lips to mine. He wasted no time, sliding his hands back down to my hips to slowly roll me over his hardening length in his swim trunks. 

“JJ,” I groaned before pulling away from his kiss. He chased my lips and slipped his finger into the front of my bikini bottoms. I had to silence my gasp as he traced circles onto my clit. “We can’t do this here.” I spit out through moans. 

“Come on baby, no one can see us out here.” He insisted as his lips fell to my neck. “We haven’t had sex in so long.” 

“You literally bent me over the couch this morning.” 

“Exactly my point, princess. Far too fucking long.” He growled before sinking his teeth into the sweet spot on my neck. His fingers slid further down, teasing my aching entrance and I whined.

“We’ll get caught!” I whisper shouted and tried to pull away but he used his free hand to grab me by the back of my hair. 

“Oh, what’s the matter princess? Don’t want John B to see what a little whore you are for his best friend?” He speaks too loudly as he slips a finger inside me and a cling to his shoulders for a sense of stability. “Don’t want him to see how good I fuck his baby sister?” I gasp when he starts pumping his finger in and out at an unrelenting pace. My hands claw down his back when my head falls into the crook of his neck. He hisses when my fingernails dig in a little too deep and curls his fingers upwards, leaving me powerless. “How your eyes roll to the back of your head when I make you cum.” My moans are muffled against his skin when he adds another finger, grinning at how easily I fall apart for him. 

“We have to make this quick.” I plead and he’s quick to pull his fingers from me, lifting me up enough to pull his shorts down and tears the ties to my bottoms. He rips the fabric from me before throwing it across the tub. He quickly angles us both, and we sigh in relief as I sink down on his length. He grasps my hips harshly, thrusting up into me with purpose and I bite my bottom lip to stifle the moans falling from my mouth. 

“So fucking pretty when you’re on my cock, baby.” He praises as I lift up and down, doing my best to meet his thrusts. I was determined to cum fast. We were not getting caught. I was so worked up already, nearly on the verge when he bit down hard on my shoulder. That was gonna leave a fucking mark. I hissed in pain as I yanked the back of his hair back. His growl had me clenching around him in seconds. “That's it, baby! Fuck!.” He panted as I came and continued thrusting up into me as I rode out my high. 

He took me by surprise when he pulled me off of him and quickly spun me around, bending me over the edge of the tub before slamming back into me from behind. I let out a loud shriek and he clamped his hand over my mouth. The water was spilling over the edges of the tub with every violent thrust and my knees felt like they were gonna buckle as he hit my spot head on. My knuckles were turning white with my grip on the edge of the tub as JJ’s breathing intensified behind me. I always could tell when he was close. I came around him again and it was in that moment of euphoria that I realized that he wasn’t wearing a condom. 

“JJ!” I tried to warn him but it was inaudible as he pressed his hand harder over my mouth. I felt his cock start to twitch and seconds later he was coating my insides with his seed. But he refused to stop. He kept fucking his cum deeper and deeper into my pussy as I winced from the overstimulation. I pried his hand away from his mouth before turning back with a glare. 

“You’re gonna get me fucking pregnant and my brother is gonna kill you.” I spit out and he just smirks. 

“I hope I do baby. Big brother can’t keep us apart then, can he?” I scoff as I ponder on whether or not that was his true intention. He finally comes to a stop, placing a kiss on the back of my shoulder before pulling out. He fishes out my bikini bottoms for me, helping me put them back on before pulling me into his arms. “You know I love you right?” 

“I love you too dumbass, now let’s get inside before he sees us. I’m fucking exhausted.” He smirks before helping me out of the tub.

trouble is my middle name

j.m

pairing: jj maybank x girlfriend!pogue!reader

summary: in which y/n decides to leave her boyfriend alone for just a few minutes, and it results in nothing but chaos.

warnings: psychical fighting, an angry but HOT jj, bestfriend!sarah, cussing, mentions of sex, fem reader, let me know if i missed anything!

authors note: jj is so boyfriend for this. you’re welcome

masterlist

“Dude,” JJ laughed, an arm tight around y/n’s waist as he laughed at something pope said, “you’re so full of shit!”

“No, i’m not! What makes you think I can’t do a backflip?” Pope argued back as he rested his forearms on his knees.

“Uh, you were on the math team?!” The blondie laughed in the other boys face, getting distracted when he felt his girlfriend move away from his arm.

He was always like this at parties, always keeping an arm around her or a hand holding hers.

It wasn’t that he didn’t trust her when she wasn’t around him, of course he trusted her- more than he’s ever trusted anyone before.

He just knew that there were weird people out there, perverted people. And he didn’t want his honey to become a victim to their perverted ways.

“Hey, babe, where you going?” JJ quickly asked y/n before she could get too far. “Oh! I was gonna go hang out with sarah, she texted me and told me to meet her in the bathroom. Is that okay?” She smiled up at him with her sweet eyes, wrapping one of her hands around his.

JJ returned the sweet smile, “of course, baby.”

He leaned in to give her a lingering goodbye kiss, y/n humming lightly into it when she could taste the beer on his lips.

She giggled as she pulled away, “on second thought , maybe i shouldn’t leave you alone. You’ve obviously had too much to drink…”

JJ immediately scoffed, “Pft, I’m fine. Go have fun, pretty girl.”

Y/n grinned and gave him one last peck on his red lips, before walking towards where she knew sarah would be.

JJ smiled as he watched her go, just admiring his little angel. He still couldn’t believe she let him start dating her.

In his mind, y/n was 𝗯𝗲𝘆𝗼𝗻𝗱 out of his league.

She was too pretty, too smart. He was sure she would be valedictorian by the end of the school year- she was the most intelligent person he’d ever met, outdoing pope by miles.

It’s not like JJ was an insecure person, he was definitely over confident. Before he fell for y/n, people described him as a player, being able to kill with his looks.

He just knew a good thing when he got it, and y/n was one of those things.

His state of admiration was cut short when he heard a whistle from behind him, one that he hoped wasn’t towards his girlfriend.

“Damn, look at that ass!”

JJ’s face became red with rage, steam practically coming out of his ears as he turned around.

“Oh, shit.” Pope mumbled, preparing to call y/n back as he knew a fight was about to happen.

Typical party with JJ.

JJ grabbed the ignorant kook by the collar of his shirt, gripping it tight, “What the fuck did you just say about my girlfriend?!”

“Chill, man, i was just saying, it’s a nice-“

He didn’t even get to finish his crude sentence before JJ clocked him right in the face.

Meanwhile, y/n stood in the bathroom doing sarah’s hair, still oblivious to the perverted comment that was previously made towards her.

“Hey, do you hear that? Sounds like a fight…” sarah spoke as she heard commotion from the other side of the door, making y/n pause her movements.

Oh, fuck.

“Goddamn it, J,” y/n mumbled before heading out already knowing the fight would somehow involve her drunk boyfriend.

And she was right, immediately seeing her boyfriend getting separated from some random kook as he spit out blood from his mouth.

For a mere second, as John B and pope held him back, he caught her eye and smiled at her; making her weak in the knees, despite the fact she was mad at his aggressive mannerisms.

“2 minutes,” y/n spoke sternly as she wiped off blood from JJ’s chin with a makeup wipe, “I left you alone for 2 minutes, JJ!”

JJ probably shouldn’t admit this, but man, did it turn him on to see his girlfriend get all feisty on him like this.

“Look, baby, I’m sorry, okay?” JJ sighed, “But i don’t regret what i did! He was being a total jackass.”

“I don’t care what he did, JJ, violence isn’t-“

“He talked about you! In a…weird way. Like, about your body.”

“Oh.” Y/n’s eyes softened as she bit her lip, “you got into a fight over me?”

JJ scoffed, “Damn right, and I’ll do it again!”

Now, y/n probably shouldn’t admit 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀, but knowing her boyfriend gave someone a bloody nose for her, was definitely turning her on.

She didn’t need to admit it, though, instead she just kissed him, making him wrap his arms around her waist.

Boy, were they in for a long night.

✮ burnt pancakes — jj maybank

summary: jj being pussy whipped for his girl

warnings: allusions to sex, inappropriate jj (cmon tho)

word count: 0.5k

inspired by this tiktok

you had woken up early from jj’s snoring, having to wiggle out of his grasp in order to get away.

you decided to make pancakes for the pogues, grabbing all the ingredients john b had, which was a surprise, and cooking up a batch.

the door behind you creaked, causing you to whip your head around to see sarah and jb, the two groggily saying good morning before sitting at the counter.

“is mom making pancakes?” john b asked, causing you to snicker as sarah hit his arm.

“what he meant to say was thank you,” she mumbled, ending the sentence with a yawn as john b tsked.

the three of you made light conversation as they watched you cook, pope joining a few minutes later announcing that kie would be swinging by.

you were all talking about who knows what when jj came stalking out, his eye’s immediately falling on your figure.

you were wearing one of his T-shirts that practically drowned your body in fabric, with a pair of his boxers.

smirking to himself at the thought of last nights activities, he made his way over to where you stood.

“oh! morning babe,” you chirped when his arm snaked around your waist, the boy leaning over to peck your lips before leaning against the counter to watch.

“speak of the devil,” john b mumbled, sending jj a teasing smile as the blonde flipped him off.

“how’d you two lovebirds sleep?” sarah asked, catching you off guard as you flipped three pancakes over.

“uh—good?” you answered but it sounded more of a question. you heard the couple snicker along with pope who sat on the couch, causing you to look at jj.

jj gave you a shrug in response, confused as well.

“do any…cardio?”

cardio? what does that mean-

your face dropped as you realized what she was referring to, your face heating up as you dropped it in embarrassment.

“ohhh,” jj sighed, coming back over to you as he hugged you from behind, squeezing your waist momentarily before saying—“you guys heard?”

“jj!”

“what?! im just asking the lady!”

sarah burst out laughing as john b pretended to throw up in disgust, your face turning many shades of red as you hid it in your hands.

“jj is pussy whipped,” john b said, a teasing tone laced in his words as you groaned in annoyance.

“hell yeah i am,” he responded, abruptly bending you over the counter before taking hold of your waist and pretending to thrust into you.

“jj!” you gasped, hitting him in the chest before pointing your finger at him.

“gross guys!” pope called from where he sat.

“guys?! i didn’t do anything!” you tried defending.

“y/n-”

“no jj, you lost the privilege to talk,” you scolded, watching john b and sarah’s eyes widen as you furrowed your brows.

“y/n the pancakes are burning.”

before you could respond, the fire alarm went off and you turned around to face a heap ton of smoke.

“shit!”

sitting in jj’s lap🫠

your designated seat, no exceptions it’s reserved only for you— whenever, however. even if there’s a chair available, you are sitting on his lap. what’s not to love about it really, taking in his scent of musky beer and a vanilla backwoods, whilst you delved deeply into the khaki material of his cargo shorts and the smoothness of his evenly tanned-sinewy thighs.

overly satisfying for both you and him.

its ideal, and you could never deny him that. wether it be skin to skin in the solace of either bedroom. or being the sickening couple out in a public space sharing affection that everyone wishes they had. everyone sees it in movies, but it’s bliss to have it and know it’s yours.

“nah don’t give her a chair sarah, she’s got one right here. c’mere, come sit on my lap baby.”

and though those words make the surrounding friends want to regurgitate, instead it sends reverberated sensuous shivers down your spine. sarah continuously pushes the chair on you because it’s infamous how ‘disgusting’ you and jj are at every pogue gathering.

“jj’s lap or a chair sarah? y’know what i’m choosing.”

“Jesus.”

he holds your weight with pleasure, whilst you swivel yourself softly to his complied lap. his strong, large hand gravitates towards your thigh, figure eighting a bit higher than it should’ve. grasping the flesh with rough, yet with meaningful passion.

“that’s my girl.”

placing a sloppy kiss to the corner of your mouth that’s laced with beer once again, but it tasted like jj nonetheless.

practice makes perfect ━━━ jj maybank.

pairings: jj maybank x fem!kook!reader.

summary: you wouldn't say that you were good at kissing; in fact, you had no idea how it worked. sure, you've kissed a few guys, but not without the tongue and more; just a simple peck and it's embarrassing but what else can you do but ask jj—a pogue you shouldn't be seen with but who you grew close, since you know he's an expert at this—for help?

warnings: nsfw, dry humping, riding, brief jealous!jj, uses of pet names, praising and cursing.

author’s notes: this was clearly rushed but oh well made this in honor of obx s3 !!! do not copy, post on another site, translate or claim any of my works as your own or you will be reported! nav.

It was only supposed to be kissing.

Not that JJ was complaining; in fact, almost everyone knew how completely infatuated he was with you. Obviously, you were clueless of it, constantly misunderstanding JJ's flirting for simple teasing since you two are clearly friends and are simply not a match. Many people were baffled as to how you came to be friends with someone so polar opposite of you.

JJ is wild—always in the mood to party—and spends his evenings drinking beer with John B and Pope in the midst of large crowds of people listening to loud music and grinding drunk couples till they become more drunk, careless with just about anything, and have nasty hangovers the next day—someone you shouldn't like. He was the kind of boy that your parents would warn you to stay away from, the type who would just tarnish your good reputation and influence you to do things that aren't really “good.”

It wasn’t surprising, he was a pogue and you’re a kook; those shits never get along.

You were too perfect, something JJ would find too disgustingly boring and spotless like any other kook he met. They were all condescending, flaunting their richy asses, too proper, and thought highly of themselves and treated others like shit, but surprisingly, you weren't like that. You radiate a beautiful aura that makes it seem as though there is nothing about you that anyone could possibly dislike.

Maybe it, and not simply your beauty, is what drew JJ to you. But he wasn't the only one who seemed captivated with you and captivated to you irresistibly.

He would notice it, guys giving you lingering looks that would piss JJ off at first he was just being protective, of course you’re his precious friend so it would be automatic to him to feel protective but he would notice how he wasn't as seriously upset whenever Kie received this treatment or his jaw wouldn't clench; that was another special quality about you; you had this power over JJ that he wasn't aware of before.

You had him wrapped around your pretty little finger.

So when you asked JJ to teach you how to kiss, he immediately replied yes without any hesitation. At first, it was awkward because you appeared peculiarly twitchy and JJ was concerned because you had been quite quiet and had barely responded to him. When the words escaped your lips, all reason left JJ's mind, and his response came quickly and without consideration.

“Could you—like, well, teach me how to kiss?” you asked sheepishly, looking adorably embarrassed. “Properly.”

“Yeah, sure, love.”

JJ learned two things when his lips touched yours.

One: your lips was the sweetest fucking thing he had ever tasted. At first you were reluctant, even shy, but JJ taught you how to wrap your arms around his neck, pull him closer, and kiss him. The way your soft lips caressed his drove him insane. He showed you how to do it by licking your bottom lip, which made your lips part and allowed him to further explore your mouth until he forced himself to stop before he could get ahead of himself.

You’re here to teach her how to kiss, not make out with her, you asshole, he thought quietly, and he found himself feeling sour about it.

Second: JJ can't help but think about the fact that you just asked him to teach you how to kiss expertly so you could kiss other guys, and for some reason, that thought makes him want to explode. The idea that you were going to kiss another guy made him feel a rush of unflinching rage. The only thing that ever made him feel jealous was the idea of another guy touching you, kissing you like he is doing right now, or worse, fucking your pretty self.

You drew away from the kiss, appearing out of breath, with swollen lips and sparkling eyes; you are so gorgeous, JJ could gaze at you for hours.

“What is it?” you asked, finding him staring at you in dazed. “Did I do it wrong?”

“No—it’s perfect,” JJ said and without thinking, he added, “You’re perfect.”

You grew flustered but asked, “So I did good? No problem?”

“There’s one problem,” JJ frowned. Unconsciously, he drew you closer to him and pulled you to sit on his lap as your chests brushed against each other and you both were breathing heavily. “I can’t stop,”

You were quiet for a moment and JJ was ready to curse himself for being too attached to your addictive self and couldn’t help himself when you suddenly shifted on his lap, your crotch brushed against his already hard dick from his shorts, and he knew you could feel it since your eyes gleamed with unexpected need, he had to restrain himself from groaning.

A shiver wracked through your body. “Then don’t stop.”

That’s all it takes for JJ to snap. He snaked his hands under your skirt, pulled you dangerously close to him, and found a way to cup the supple skin of your ass. You moaned in surprise as he attacked your lips with a hot, rough kiss, and you unconsciously started rocking your core against his clothed dick. He runs his hands through your hair, he slightly tugs on it, causing you to moan once more. As he left your lips, he skimmed his teeth against your jaw to your neck and began kissing on the soft skin of it.

“You have no idea how fucking long I’ve waited for this,” he whispered against your neck.

He was driven wild by the whimper that escaped your luscious lips. As you began to grind firmly against JJ's clothed dick while tightly grasping his shoulder, JJ could see you were getting frantic. His eyes grew dark as he guided you against his lap with his hands on your hips, grinding you back and forth as he continued to teach you.

JJ murmurs, “Come on pretty girl,” and then he trails his hot mouth down your neck and into your ears, biting on your earlobe to make you mewl with pleasure. “I can feel how soaking wet you are even when you’re not naked, ride me, come on, let me feel you more.”

He could feel you were doing well as his hands guided you into grinding against his crotch. He then continued kissing your neck, almost marking you and giving you the impression like it would definitely leave a mark. JJ was happy to think about this. Suddenly remembering how this happened in the first place—you asking him to teach you how to kiss—he tightened his hold on you till he felt you whimper against him, riding his clothed hard dick almost desperately, JJ could feel his anger bubbling at the thought of you doing this with someone else.

“You’re not kissing anyone else after this, do you hear me?”

You briefly looked at him, confused. “What—?”

JJ’s eyes darkened with jealousy. “Tell me I’m the only one who can make you feel like this.”

He could feel the desire through you, and he fucking loved it. You were grinding against him, and JJ had to restrain himself from tearing your clothes and his just so he could fuck you deep and hard.

You were close, he could feel it, you were clinging to him tightly, rubbing up on his dick almost like you were bouncing on him. He glanced up at you, your eyes briefly closing in ecstasy, your pretty lips half open, and your beautiful face transforming into something vibrant.

“Yes,” you gasp. “Only you, JJ—fuck—only you.”

The corners of his mouth turned up slightly into a pleased smile. “Such a good girl. I can’t wait to fuck you.”

You grew flustered but your eyes sparkled in mischief. “Teach me that?” But JJ was already pulling you much closer with a hungry look in his eyes.

“I’ll teach you everything, pretty girl.”

jj maybank & rafe cameron porn links ˚ ༘♡ ·˚ ₊˚ˑ༄ؘ

warning: 18+ only. these are twitter links that contain porn videos. these are not fics.

nav. // m.list // daydreams // more rafe porn links

— JJ MAYBANK

reverse cowgirl with jj outside

jj sucking and admiring your tits

dom!jj spanking you

giving boyfriend!jj a blowjob

doggystyle with best friend!jj

jj showing you how strong he is

riding roommate!jj in your room

jj fucking you while you’re wearing his shirt

helping jj relax after a long day

enemy!jj fucking you at a party

jj fucking you hard from behind

— RAFE CAMERON

missionary with boyfriend!rafe

ghostface!rafe sneaking into your room and fucking you

dom!rafe punishing you

rafe eating you out after a stressful day

morning sex with rafe

enemy!rafe fingering and choking you

shower sex with rafe

rafe fucking you on his yacht

study sessions with best friend!rafe

rafe admiring your body

riding rafe in his truck

neighbour!rafe fucking you in his bed

matt is so ‘sweet best friend who secretly jerks off to your pictures’ coded hmmmmm

Sultry Prompt list

Cause why not? First time writing a prompt list thats going in this kind of direction. Feel free to use these for anything!

A Kiss to the thigh

Person A wearing a more revealing outfit than they'd usually wear.

"Do you trust me?" "Should I?" (in a flirty way obviously)

Hand(s) on the others leg(s).

Person A trying on a new outfit for Person B.

Almost caught.

Sneaking around.

First time seeing the other in their swimwear.

Person A helping Person B into their outfit.

Person A helping Person B out of their outfit.

"You know, no one would believe me if I told them how much of a tease you are."

"You like it?" "No, I love it."

"You are constantly finding new ways to surprise me."

A kiss to the neck.

"If you go out like that, everyone will know."

"That was lovely."

"You little devil."

"Well, that was close."

A kiss to the lower back.

"And what are you going to do about it?"

"I can think of a few things."

"What are you waiting for?"

Write a Timmy smut to celebrate 2K!!

Been thinking this up throughout today :)

Five in Five

Warnings: friends to lovers, smut, dirty talk

It's around 2:45 am when the heat from Timothee's body wakes you. You untangle your legs from his and slide your arm from underneath his neck wondering how a man so lean can produce that much body heat. He groans softly in his sleep, and you wait until he's turned over to get up and go to the bathroom. You're sure that if he sees you creeping out of his bedroom, your only chance to go to pee will be blown.

You tip toe out of his room, leaving the door open for easy access when you return and as you cross the hall for the bathroom, your eyes wander downstairs to his front doors. They're massive double doors made of dark oak standing at least fifteen feet high. For a second, you think of leaving, like you always do. You never stay the night with Timothee...well not a full night. Having sex with him and leaving once he falls asleep was just a thing you guys did. You've always left, ever since he took your virginity in a vacant Marriot hotel room during the 11th grade La Guardia field trip to Los Angeles. It wasn't until years later, you realized Timothee wanted more than that. And it's not that you don't want to be his girlfriend...it's just that being his girlfriend could mean losing him completely if things turned shitty. Losing him as a boyfriend would suck. Losing him as a friend...you weren't sure you could handle. So, you always stuck to this. Sex. Great sex. Sex that you'd only be able to get with someone that loves you just as much as you love them. You sleep with him; you tell him how much you love him-because you do-and you leave when he falls asleep. He's never mad, he's never upset (that you can see and the thought of that gnaws at you constantly) and he never brings it up when you see him again.

Until a few hours ago.

You think about it as you remove your gaze from his front door and tip toe into the bathroom. You never thought he'd convince you to stay the night, but here you are peeing in his overly expensive, self-cleaning toilet and washing your hands with $60 hand soap that smells like vanilla and lavender. You drag a hand over your face as you make your way back out, avoiding the temptation of the front door this time on your way back to his room.

The door is open the way you left it, and you walk softly into his room, jolting a little when you see Timothee sitting up in the bed. He's got his thin, white sheet draped over his naked bottom half and even though he looks half asleep, he also looks sad. Your heart breaks a little as you realize this is what he looks like when he wakes up and you aren't there.

"Relax," you whisper "I'm still here." You crawl back into Timothee's bed, climbing over his body to get back to your favorite spot on his mattress. "I told you I'd stay," you tease him in a whisper and kiss his shoulder.

Timothee relaxes a little, laying back down, holding his arm out for you to cuddle into him.

"Would it be so bad?" he asks after a few moments of silence. You thought he'd fallen back asleep, but he must have been thinking.

"What?" you answer.

"Being my girlfriend."

"Timothee-"

"No seriously, what would be so bad about it? You're used to fame, so that wouldn't be an adjustment for you. We both have crazy schedules, so you wouldn't have to worry about one of us being busier than the other. And I know everything about you, y/n. Everything."

You laugh at his confidence. He definitely knows everything about you. You'd been sleeping with him for twelve years and been friends for longer. But you weren't going to let him think he knows everything. "You don't know shit, Chalamet."

"Oh yeah?"

"Mhmm, though it's cute that you think you do."

Timothee turns over on his side, facing you. He gives you a quick kiss that instantly turns into a deeper one. You whine when he pulls away, wanting his tongue in your mouth. He's close still, his lips grazing yours occasionally when he talks. "I know everything about you, y/n. Platonically, sexually, mentally. I know everything."

You study his face for a moment. He looks quite sure of himself. "Okay then," you say "five facts about me that no one else knows in five minutes."

"Easy."

"Go on then."

"Number one, I know that if I drag my fingertips across your back" Timothee slides his hands under the back of your shirt, demonstrating his words. "I can have you asleep in less than ten minutes."

You roll your eyes, knowing it's true. He's gotten you to sleep that way many times before.

"Four more, tick tock," you tease him.

"Number two, I know how much anxiety ordering food gives you, so I know your order at every restaurant we've ever been to, so you don't even have to say anything."

His fingers are still tracing lines up and down your back and it takes everything in you not to close your eyes against him.

"Number three, I know that if I kiss your neck right here" Timothee demonstrates his words again, placing the softest kiss to the side of your neck. "I can have you ready for sex almost instantly."

"Ugh, fuck off, Timothee."

He's right again.

You're pretty sure he takes two extra minutes just kissing your neck, the fucker, and you let him because it feels so good.

"Number four, I know that" he pulls you on top of him so that you're straddling his waist "when you're riding my dick, I have to hold your right here because it feels so good, they shake." Timothee's hands grip your thighs, his long fingers indenting the skin on your legs.

"Number five, I know that if I suck one of your nipples into my mouth" He removes a hand from your thigh and removes your shirt. Immediately, he uses his index finger to circle one of your nipples. It hardens instantly at his teasing and peppers your skin in chills "I can get you to do whatever the fuck I want."

You're silent for a minute, feeling his hard dick under you. You contemplate holding it and sliding down onto it but decide to show him he's not the only one who knows everything about the other.

"How'd I do?" Timothee asks.

"Not bad," you admit. You tease his cock with your pussy, sliding him through your wet folds. "But now it's my turn."

"Can I fuck you first?"

"No, Timmy, you can't."

Timothee groans, pressing his erection against your heat.

"You know, you can't call me 'Timmy' and not let me fuck you."

You smile knowingly, satisfied in the use of a secret weapon you learned about not too long ago while having dinner in a very public setting.

"Patience is a virtue, Timothee. Anywho, Number one, I know that when I whisper in your ear, it gives you these cute little chills all over your skin." You lean forward letting your folds slide across his hard dick again. Timothee groans softly through gritted teeth, shaking his head slowly at you. "Like this," you whisper once you're inches from his ear and like you said, you feel his skin prickle with chills. You run your hands over his arms, still gripping your thighs just the way you like, attempting to erase some of the chills you created with your warmth.

"Skip the rest and let me fuck you, y/n," Timothee begs.

"But I've got four more," you pout.

Timothee groans again, pushing his dick against you.

"Number two, I know tha-"

Your words catch in your throat as Timothee shifts on his bed, flipping you onto your back. His knees nudge your legs open, and he runs his nose along your neck until he finds the spot that makes you weak. He kisses it lightly before sucking the skin into his mouth.

"Give it up, y/n. You know it's me you think about when someone else is trying...and failing...to make you come. You know it's me you've been talking yourself out of for years. Over a decade worth of depriving yourself of the one thing you know you need the most. Why? I'm right here and I'm entirely yours. Take me."

Your eyes bounce back and forth between his, until your lips crash into each other's. Tongues winding and twisting fighting for dominance. You love him. You always have and there is no escaping him. There never will be. Timothee breaks your heated kiss and begins lining his way down to your breasts in kisses. He licks around your nipple once he's reached his destination, then suck it into his mouth. And just like he said, in that moment, you're willing to do whatever he wants.

"Be mine and no others," he says to you in between kisses to your soft skin.

"Whatever you want," you say breathlessly.

"No. Say it. Say you'll be mine and mine alone."

Timothee slides a finger along your folds of your pussy, gently pressing a finger inside to you see if you're ready for him. When he decides your wet enough, he lines himself up with you entrance. You're bracing for him; your legs are wide open and waiting but so is he.

"Y/n."

"You can't leave me when things get hard. You can't give up on us, because I can't lose you, Timothee. If I tell you yes, then this is it."

"That's all I've ever wanted."

"I mean it; you can't leave me."

"Y/n," Timothee said, as he pushed all the way inside of you, "I'd never dream of leaving you."

Tags: @imnotoverlyobsessive @dayafied @soulofendlessbook @fashphotolife @scentedkittenperfection @weasleytwinscumslut @timotheel0ver @mxciscastleintheair @marvelmaniac2000 @lovelyrocker @divine-1 @louievr @love-poems-only @starberry-cake @inlovewithphantasy @alexagirlie @misswestfall @softhecreator @livresjaunes @timmymyluv @inannamoon @harrys-thick-thighs @s-we-e-t-t-ea @timolaurence @its-schmackin-dude @justagirlwhoneedshelp @kteezy997 @sufferingstarlight @xoxoloverb @tropicalrozmajzl @iloveneilperry @syirnge

omg i can see jj with like two of his sons being like 6 and 5 plus your toddler daughter and baby on your hip while you’re full with another maybank😭

stop the idea of dad!jj surrounded by his children makes me so giddy

you smile to yourself as you watch jj and your boys playing around. the living room is filled with giggles and smiles as jj lifts both your boys up, one in each arm, as he spins around in circles. every time he sets them down, they cling to his legs and say, "again!" jj, being the best dad, can never ever say no to his mini-me's, gives in yet again, scooping them up and fulfilling their wishes.

you, on the other hand, are making cookies (with one hand because your other is holding your baby). your three-year-old daughter stands next to you on a chair from the kitchen table, helping you out and being the sweetest as always. the two of you stand there, rolling the dough into spheres and placing them on the baking sheet.

you pause for a moment, using the back of your hand to swipe the tiny beads of sweat from your forehead. you're so far along with your pregnancy that everything seems to be tiring you out, especially with a baby plopped on your hip for the most of your day.

"are you okay, mommy?" your daughter asks.

"yeah, hun. just tired. your baby brother is kicking like crazy," you reply, "wanna feel?"

she nods, and you take her little wrist and guide it onto your belly. her eyes widen when she feels the baby against her hand. "that's not very nice. does it hurt?" she questions.

you smile, bending down slightly to kiss the crown of her head. "no, my love. i promise."

you return to preparing the cookies, and jj pops up next to you, kissing all three of his girls' temples. he takes your baby from your arms, and one of his hands rubs the small of your back. "how are my girls doing?"

your daughter smiles widely, "we're baking cookies."

"i see that. can i have one?"

"they aren't ready yet, daddy. you have to have patience," she tells him matter-of-factly.

jj quirks a brow. "oh, yeah? says who?"

"mommy."

"she's not my mommy," jj states. "...well, actually..."

"jj!" you scold, smacking his chest. "you're the worst."

"but you love me," he grins.

can't argue with that.

concepts

Oml I just saw a tiktok from a girl pranking her boyfriend in calling him her husband to another person… and now I need to know how jj would react

BETTT OMG HE'D BE SO GIDDY. also side note i loved writing this, like i live for fluffly!jj so tysm for this, mwah

You and JJ sat across from each other at a candlelit table, enjoying a quiet date night. You perused the menu, and you couldn't help but feel the urge to play a little joke on him.

When the waiter came around to take your drink orders, you had a playful glint in your eye as you spoke up.

"A margarita for myself, and a beer for my husband, please."

JJ's eyes widened at the unexpected comment. The waiter left them, and he turned to you with the giddiest smile you'd ever seen him sport. He was blushing profusely, the rose hue creeping up his neck.

"Husband, huh?" He asked, stars dancing around in his eyes though he was teasing you.

You shrugged, playing it cool but secretly relishing in his excited reaction. "I mean, that's what you are, right?"

He grinned even wider, leaning up over the table and taking your face into his hands. His lips pressed kisses all over your face, not an inch of your skin going untouched by them.

For the rest of the night, he was so elated that he was telling everyone that you were his wife. He ordered dessert for you, proudly bragging about you and your new title. "Yeah, my wife," he spoke, wagging his eyebrows at you, "...is going to have the brownie sundae. Extra whipped cream."

Then, an elderly couple held the door open for you two when you were leaving, and JJ couldn't help himself. "Thanks, gotta get the wife home."

Upon your arrival at home, you saw one of your neighbour's children playing outside, kicking a soccer ball around. The kid eyed you, noticeably developing a schoolboy crush on you. JJ glared at him. "Hey, kid. Keep lookin' at my wife like that 'n I'll deflate that ball faster than you can blink."

And if you thought that was all, it most definitely wasn't. He practically threw you onto your shared bed, kissing down your body and worshipping you. Praises filled your ears, straight from his lips. My wife is fuckin' perfect, taking my cock so well. Taste so goddamn good, wifey. This pussy's so fuckin' tight, gonna slap a ring on that finger 'n knock you up so everyone knows it's mine.

aaand now i'm passing out

concepts

jj x john b’s little sister will always have a special place in my heart. Especially when she’s been pining over him since they were kids, the built up tension, the way they act like a couple but they’re not, ugh!

no bc this is my favourite trope with jj 😭 it's just so fitting and honestly nothing hits like a good brother's best friend trope (at least for me)

You were lying in bed, mindlessly scrolling through your phone when you hear your front door open, followed by the clunking of heavy shoes against the hardwood floors as they walked their way through your home.

At first, you panicked. Was this it? Were you about to get murdered in the comfort of your own home, warm and cozy in your bed? But then it clicked. There was only one person you knew who had loud footsteps like that. He had messy blonde hair, sparkling blue eyes, a cheeky grin. He was most likely wearing one of his worn out cut-offs, and black timberland boots.

Those staple shoes of his were definitely the culprit.

Your doorknob twisted open slowly, and there JJ was. Stumbling into your room with a hazy smile on his face. He tripped over his foot upon entry, leading him to kick his boots off clumsily.

"J, what the hell are you doing? I thought you were Freddy Krueger or something, jeez."

He plopped onto your bed, using one hand to pluck your phone from your hand and toss it to the other side of your bed. He laid between your legs, resting his head against your stomach and wrapping his arms around your waist.

Butterflies erupted in your stomach instantly. Being this close and cozy wasn't new for the two of you; you'd been touchy since you were kids. Endless piggyback rides, cuddling sessions during movie nights, playing with each other's hair, that was just the two of you in your normal state. That's what happens when you've known someone since you were in elementary school.

"Hi," he murmured, nuzzling into you as he got comfy. "You smell good."

Your brows furrowed as you held back a laugh. "Are you drunk?"

"No." A moment of silence passed, and then he spoke up again. "Maybe."

"Okay, and where's my brother?"

"Ditched me for his kook girlfriend."

You hummed in response, starting to weave your fingers through his sun-kissed locks. You heard him sigh in content, and he hooked his legs over one of yours.

"D'you wanna get high?" JJ asked, breaking the silence.

Your hand crept down to his cheek, stroking it with your thumb gently. "I think you're intoxicated enough, Maybank."

He picked his head up, his chin now resting where the left side of his face was previously smushed against. He smiled, his eyelids half closed. "You're always takin' care o'me. So sweet, like candy."

"You always need to be taken care of," you joked in response. The small huff of laughter he let out was like music to your ears. You could listen to it on repeat for the rest of your days, and it'd always be your favourite soundtrack.

His eyes seemed to glimmer as he zoned in on yours again. He released a sigh, before reaching up and cupping your cheek. "You're so beautiful."

Your heart fluttered. You were used to JJ's unrelenting flirtations, but he'd never said anything like that to you. It'd always been lookin' good, mini routledge, or we should makeout. y'know, for science.

"Don't. You're only saying that 'cause you're drunk. It's mean."

His brow arched. "Me thinking you're beautiful is mean? I don't get it."

"It's mean because it's just the alcohol talking," you explained. "You don't really mean it, J."

"I do mean it. Why do you think I'm starin' at you all the time? I have to force myself to keep my eyes off you."

He was pulling at your heartstrings, saying all the things you'd been longing to hear from his mouth for as long as you could remember. It almost felt cruel; the fact that he could say these things so casually as if the memory wouldn't be burned into your brain until the end of time.

"Go to sleep, JJ. We'll talk in the morning," you spoke, eyes darting away from his as you changed the topic.

JJ removed himself from your hold, scooting up next to you and using his index finger and thumb to guide your gaze onto him. His eyes were softened, so vulnerable as they looked at you. He wore a small pout, too, only making you want to plant a kiss on it and wash it away.

"I know 'm an idiot. But one of these days, I'm gonna get my head outta my ass and tell you that I got a major thing for you," he said. "You're gonna be my girl, princess. I'm not sure of much, but I am sure of that."

And with that, he laid his head down on the pillow next to yours, slinging an arm over your waist and cuddling into your side.

"Good night, beautiful."

concepts

the one where jj loves your ass (jj x routledge!reader)

request: JJ x reader please. Summary: Can I request one where jj loves the readers ass like a cute little blurb or something when he’s always trying to touch it or smacks it. And maybe she’s john Bs sister and he goes mad when his best friend smacks his sisters ass x

a/n: you guys kill me with the jjxroutledge!reader requests. i love them. i hope you like this!

warnings: lil bit of groping and spanking (?) but not in a sexual way ig??

my masterlist

“hello, pretty girl,” jj says as he enters the chateau, the sight of you sprawled out on the couch bringing a smile on his face.

today is your day off and you had been waiting for your boyfriend to come back from work so that you could spend some time together. it’s safe to say that as soon as you hear his greeting, you jump off the couch and launch yourself at him.

jj catches you and chuckles at your sudden movement as you wrap your legs around his waist and kiss him sweetly.

“hi, baby.”

“did somebody miss me?” he asked with a cocky smile on his face.

“shut up, you left me alone with john b all day. he turns into a baby when he’s sick.”

he laughs, completely agreeing with your statement.

“so,” he says patting your ass before taking it into his hands as you were still wrapped around him, “what d’you wanna do?”

you put your legs back on the ground, “how about we order some pizza and watch a movie?”

“whatever you want, as long as your cute ass stays right here with me.”

you roll your eyes playfully at him and turn around to grab your phone when his hand collides with your behind again, making you yelp.

“jj!”

“what? it was right there!” you push him and laugh at him in disbelief.

while you’re on the phone with the pizzeria, jj grabs two beers from the fridge and walks to your brother’s room. he knocks on the door a few times.

“hey, jb. we’re ordering pizza, you want some?”

“yeah. coming right out,” the blond hears from the other side of the wooden door.

when jj goes back into the living room, he throws himself on the couch and waits for you to sit next to him. he makes grabby hands at you as you hang up the phone.

you smile at him and happily walk over to the couch, relaxing next to him with your legs on his lap. he gives you the second beer he had in his hand while his other arm wraps around your shoulders. your head nuzzles safely against his chest as your lips kiss his covered collarbone. jj puts his beer on the coffee table and rests his now free hand on your behind, squeezing it as you giggle against his skin.

“mmh, i love this ass,” he mumbles and you can’t contain your chuckle.

“thought you loved me.”

“i love you, but i also love your ass,” and he punctuates his statement with another squeeze.

“can you stop groping my sister in front of me, jj? that’s disgusting!”

john b’s voice brings you out of your little bubble as you realize that he walked into the living room during your display of affection.

“can’t help it, sorry,” your boyfriend says making your brother fake gag at the two of you.

when the pizza delivery guy knocks at the front door, you get up and, as you do so, jj smacks your behind playfully again.

“are you done?” you ask sarcastically but your teasing smile tells him you’re not a little bit mad.

“never, sweetheart.”

“you know, for future reference, don’t grab your girlfriend’s ass in front of her big brother if you wish to live a long life,” john b said, disgusted at the scene in front of him.

jj looks at you as you close the door and bring the food on the coffee table.

“you want a beer, bird?” you ask your brother.

“yeah, sure. thanks.”

you walk to the fridge, feeling your boyfriend’s eyes on your back and when you slightly turn your head, you find out your suspicions are true. you wink at him and send him a smile.

“kill me whenever you want, man. so fucking worth it.”

𝐉𝐁, 𝐬𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫 | 𝐉𝐉 𝐦𝐚𝐲𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐤

𝗖𝗿𝗲𝗱𝗶𝘁𝘀 𝘁𝗼 𝗹𝗮𝗶𝗹𝗮𝘄𝗿𝗶𝘁𝗲𝘀𝘀_ 𝗼𝗻 𝗪𝗮𝘁𝘁𝗽𝗮𝗱

𝘛𝘞, 𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘢𝘣𝘶𝘴𝘦 + 𝘑𝘑'𝘴 𝘥𝘢𝘥

"Come on j, can we please watch a movie?" I ask him walking over to my bed.

"i would love too y/n but we have to finish your math so you don't get held back, your already failing" JJ says turning the chair that he's sitting on towards me

"please jj, it's one movie" i plead laying down on my bed

"how about this" he says walking towards me "we finish your math homework then you can pick whatever movie we watch, deal?"

"how about we watch a movie then we finish my homework" i say sitting up.

"You're not winning this argument sunshine" jj says picking me up and throwing me over his shoulder.

"jj!" i say slapping his back

"shit, y/n don't hit there on my back" jj says setting me down

"sorry jj" I said, kissing his cheek "your dad again?" He looks away and sits on the chair again. He shakes his head and pulls me to sit on his lap. "Just stop talking about it" jj says grabbing my pencil "let's just finish this then we can watch your movie yea?"

"yea" I say, grabbing the pencil and continuing my homework. jj puts his head on my shoulder and points out where i go wrong.

"There you go, you're finally done, now let's watch the movie you wanted to watch" jj says pressing his lips against my shoulder. I nod my head and stand up walking towards my bed.

"what movie are we watching" he says standing up walking towards my bed

"the mighty ducks, the first one though, you've never seen them before" i tell him laying down

"That's because I have no interest in those movies," jj says, putting his head on my stomach. I smile at him and run my fingers through his hair while turning on my laptop that sometimes doesn't turn on.

"They all look so young and since it's near the end we can see them-" I say but look down to see JJ asleep. I shake my head and get up to grab a glass of water. i go to the kitchen and see john b, kiara, sarah and pope talking

"y/n! just because your dating my best friend doesn't mean you get to keep him 24/7" john b tells me walking towards the kitchen

"this is the first time we hung out alone jb, you guys are always in the room making sure we don't do shit" i say taking a sip out of my water bottle

"what's that on your neck?" john b says going into protective brother mode and checking my neck out

"birthmark dumbass, and if i were to have a hickey it would be in a place that wouldn't be shown" i smirk at john b, he looks at me with a disgusted face. jj walks out of my room and towards me wrapping an arm around my waist

"you left me" jj whispers in my ear and kisses the back of my head

"i know, john b held me up complaining that i took you away" i whisper back "come on let's go watch the rest of the movie"

"keep the sound to a minimum" kie yells looking at us then at john b

"no closed door! keep it opened" john b says to us. I scoff and grab jjs hand walking towards my bedroom. jj takes this as a chance to smack my ass

"jj maybank!" i say laughing, he just smiles at me and kisses my forehead

"gross jj that's my sister" john b complains walking over to where sarah is.

"oh please you do worse with sarah" y/n looks at her brother

"shush"

YOU’LL ALWAYS BE MINE

PAIRINGS: Wanda Maximoff x reader

WORD COUNT: 2,475

WARNINGS: angst, cheating, divorce, depression, fluff, mind manipulation, the hex being created, pregnancy, kinda dark, think that’s all :)

NO ONE IS PERMITTED TO STEAL, COPY, OR REBLOG MY WORK AS THEIR OWN!!

Wanda hummed as the flavors hit her taste buds, her eyes directed at you as she smiled warmly.

“How do you like the dinner, sweetheart?” You grinned beneath the fork inside your mouth, instantly returning your lips back to a thin line when her eyes left you.

“Well, I hope you’d like it, I spent many hours prepping this.” She chuckled, giving your hand a squeeze from across the table. You still didn’t utter a word, she was growing concerned.

“What’s wrong, baby?” You shrugged, nervously playing with your food as you bit the inside of your cheek, a habit you started and failed to stop, much to Wanda’s liking.

“C’mon, you can talk to me, that’s what I’m here for.” You looked up, noticing her intense gaze that showed she knew exactly what you were going to say.

“You still haven’t signed the papers.” Her body tensed, her eyes shutting as she sighed. Her hand balled into a tight fist as she continued to eat. She could see you were lacking the ring on your finger, the sight making her want to crawl into a corner and cry her eyes out. There was no way out of this, she realized, so she had to make one.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about-”

“My fucking God, Wanda,” You slammed your hands down, standing as you paced urgently. She refused to look, instead finding her meal all the more interesting.

“You’re pathetic, you know that? You can’t sign some fucking papers, really? This marriage has been ruined the moment you slept with that tramp.” The realization made her throat tighten, tears nearly ready to spill from her loopy eyes.

“I told you it was a mistake, it meant nothing-”

“That doesn’t stop the fact that it happened, Wanda! Do you think it’s easy for me to have to live here daily? To see you and constantly be reminded of what you did? I worked so hard to even convince myself I was worthy of you, and you go and do this?” She cowered down, wiping her hands on the small cloth in her lap while you stared at her, nostrils flared and eyebrows furrowed.

“I’m sorry-”

“Sorry doesn’t fix what you did-”

“God, will you let me fucking speak?” She yelled, growing frustrated with the constant interruption. You didn’t refute, instead placing your hands on your hips as you waited for her voice to return.

“I told you, I was drunk and she looked so much like you. We were fighting, I was upset, you were too, so I went out and got wasted to the point I could barely walk. I saw her there and I…I let her take me home, but when I woke up I- I realized what I did and I knew I fucked up.”

“Yeah, you did.” You already heard the story before, the same one that haunted you in your dreams. You imagined someone else being able to hear the moans she promised were only for you, it made you violently ill.

“I made a promise to you, and I plan to keep it. I will never, and I mean never, touch a drink again. I won’t even look in another woman’s direction because I don’t need to when I have my wife right in front of me. My perfect, breathtaking, loving wife that I care for so much.” She wrapped her arms around your waist as she dropped to her knees, placing her forehead against your thigh.

“Please, baby, I don’t know how many times I have to apologize before you forgive me, but I’ll continue to tell you for the rest of my life.” She placed small kisses against the covered skin, feeling the warmth that you supplied, the same warmth that brought her comfort at night. Now it brought her shame and guilt, but she’d rather carry that burden for the rest of her life than lose you for even a moment.

“I don’t want to have to be reminded of what you did for the rest of my life, Wanda. I’m constantly having someone down my ear telling me how terrible you are, and how I should never forgive you. For fucks sake, even our friends have told me to leave you! How am I going to look them in the eye again knowing all they see is someone who’s too gullible to even leave their cheating wife?” You sobbed, and the look on your face only brought misery to the woman. You seemed so lost, so exhausted, and she was the cause.

“I know, I know, and none of this is fair to you, and I’m so sorry I caused this-”

“Stop saying sorry. Please, I can’t do this.” You begged, your voice cracking as you drew more emotions.

“But I mean it! I never want you to feel like I don’t want you because I want you more than anything. I need you, Y/N, I need you in my life.” It was true, she didn’t know how to properly function without you. You were the only one who kept her going, you were the one who held her when she felt like she couldn’t stand. When she was ready to give up, she had you holding her back. Without you, she’d be nothing.

“You say you need me, but you don’t consider what I need. And what I need is for you to let me go, and sign the papers.” You wanted to give in, to fall into her embrace and let her make it up to you. But you couldn’t, your mind would never let you forget the scene you walked in on. And maybe you’d still remember it vividly without her, but at least you wouldn’t have to be in the exact place it happened with the person who did it. At least you could move on and find someone who wouldn’t hurt you like this, intoxicated or not.

“No- no, I won’t do it.” Tear stains painted your shirt from where her head rested, you knew you’d have to throw this out sooner than later.

“Wanda, please, just do it.” You squeezed your eyes shut, forcing yourself to ignore her pleas.

“But-”

“I’m begging you, Wanda. If you truly loved me, you’d want me to be happy.” She rushed towards you when you tried to escape her tight hold.

“You’re happier with me-”

“I can’t be happy with you, not when I can’t stop thinking about what you did. It ruined me, Wands, and it continues to haunt me every breathing moment.” The nickname brought a crack to her rotting heart. Her body felt like it was decaying the more you pulled away and the more she tried to hold on.

“You’re going to sign the papers. And then I’ll be gone. This is best for the both of us, you’ll learn to live without me.” She felt as though she was going to be sick, why were you still denying her? She couldn’t let you go. No, she couldn’t.

You leaned down to her level, moving the hair that covered her face out of the way. You cupped her cheeks, smiling sadly as her sobs caused her hands to shake lightly. She reached out hopefully, copying your action and bringing herself closer.

“Can I- can I have one last kiss, at least?” You looked down, sighing as you shook your head before returning her gaze.

“If I kiss you, I don’t think either of us will be able to stop.”

“That’s not a bad thing, is it?” You chuckled, and it felt like music to her ears. She smiled warmly, even though her chest tightened and her breath cut short.

“I love you, Wanda, I always will. Maybe we were just never meant to be, and that’s okay. But if I don’t let you go now, I’ll never be able to be happy.” But you could’ve been meant to be, she realized. You could’ve been the best, most loving couple. Your kids would’ve grown up in a healthy, safe household full of love. But that all came to an end when that night left her hopeless, she pleaded with God constantly to rid her actions but they were never heard.

“I love you too, Y/N, and I want you to be happy, I just wish I could’ve been the reason.”

“You were.” The past tense was what caused her body to crash into yours. She lost all control as your arms brought her a sense of comfort she lacked for so long.

“I’m sorry I failed you.”

In a few months, the divorce was being settled and you officially moved out. You had been staying with a friend for some time, and she was more than happy to help you out. She had been in a similar situation before, so it was clear what she had to do when she saw you standing on her front porch. Wanda thought she would be able to see you when you would gather your stuff from her place, but a multitude of your friends went instead, all of them giving glares to the older woman as she refused to look at the empty home. It seemed wrong without your stuff here, and all she had were pictures of the two of you that she couldn’t remove.

She felt hopeless as time progressed, and the lack of messages or calls from you only made time move slower. Every day felt like a decade as she failed to execute basic human needs. She often struggled to get out of bed or brush her teeth, and now it’s been two days since she last showered. She wondered how you were, she hoped you weren’t in such a horrid state like herself. But a part of her also hoped you were, just so she knew you still cared.

Eventually, it all became too much. She hadn’t slept in her bed in over a year, the constant reminder that another laid where you once were disgusted her. The couch had become her home, but even the couch seemed to shame her. Her favorite movies didn’t feel the same without you laughing with her. The sitcoms she loved so much now annoyed her; she had changed completely, and it was all her fault.

She couldn’t hold it back anymore, she broke. Her small, empty home in the town of Westview became full once again. She didn’t know what happened. One moment she was sobbing uncontrollably while huddling close to the stuffed animal she had won for you on your first date, then the plain walls filled with hope. Her heart slowly gained a beat, and her hands felt warm again. She stood in front of a door, her fist finding the wood and creating a small knock.

“It’s open!” She heard, and she stopped in her tracks. It was you, it was your angelic voice that was slowly fading from her mind. She gulped fearfully before twisting the knob, letting her legs take control as she stepped forward.

“Love, you’re home!” You greeted with a smile, turning to face her as Wanda’s eyes fell on the toddler being held in your arms. She had the same hair as Wanda, and while it wasn’t easy to spot from so far away, she could see her green, piercing eyes looking back at her. The child giggled and pointed her chubby finger her way, causing a smile to break out on her face.

“Everything alright, sweetie?” You asked when she didn’t move, her mouth agape and her hands nearly releasing the briefcase she held.

“Yes…everything is just perfect, my love.” She mustered out, rushing towards your figure and embracing you in a tight hold. The replica of her was left with a small kiss to her forehead before she took her into her arms, blowing raspberries on her exposed tummy. Alana giggled again, and it felt like Wanda’s ear would explode. She felt like she was dreaming, only this wasn’t the nightmare she fought with every night. No, this time you were here to cure her.

“Momma!” She heard from a distance, seeing a young boy running to greet her. He hugged her leg tightly, causing Wanda to stumble before she leaned down, ruffling his hair before she gave him a small side hug, the baby in her arms restricting her from embracing him as much as she wanted to.

“Hey, kiddo! How was your day?”

“It was amazing! Me, Mommy, and Alana made dinner!” She gasped, showing her appreciation towards the excited boy before he ran off to the kitchen as she requested. He was still too young to carry his little sister, so she continued to do so.

“And hello to you, my sweet baby.” Wanda placed a small kiss against your stomach, placing her hand against the bump and rubbing her thumb in small, soothing circles.

“Have they been giving you any trouble today?” She asked, resulting in a small sigh from your end.

“They’ve been kicking all day. I swear, if they’re not professional soccer players, I don’t know what else they’ll do.” Wanda laughed before leaving multiple pecks to your lips, grasping your hand in hers before leading you to the kitchen.

“Well, it’s only a few more months until they’ll be out of you, I know you can do it.” You stopped in your tracks, eyeing her and causing the taller woman to stall. Nobody wanted to see you angry, especially when you were pregnant.

“First of all, I don’t see you carrying two demons in your stomach, so I’d shut up if I were you. And, second of all, this is the third time I’m doing this, you are no longer allowed to go without a condom.” She placed her hand on her chest as if she was offended and you grinned, leaving a kiss on her cheek before walking through the kitchen door where your son laid out all the dishes for you four. You thanked him before he climbed onto his seat, still finding himself to be too short for the chairs you had. Wanda placed your daughter in the high chair before taking the seat next to her. You noticed her smiling large, her eyes being filled with more joy than usual.

“What’s got you all happy?” She admired the scene in front of her, Pietro Jr and Alana sitting peacefully, both of them sharing the genes she was blessed with. Her partner, smiling back at her while they carried her twins, she couldn’t have asked for anything more.

“Oh, nothing, I’m just thinking about how lucky I am to have all of you.” You blushed, tilting your head slightly as you bit your lip.

“Well, that’s never going to change, sweetheart.” ‘I’ll make sure of it’, she thought.

Needy - C.S

Y’all wanted sub!chris w a mommy kink so here ya go! Basically Chris has been needing you all day and you make him work for it

NSFW below, leave if you’re a minor

All day Chris has been attached to your hip, although this wasn’t that unusual for him you could tell it wasn’t just him being clingy. You knew he was horny, and you definitely didn’t help it by subtly teasing him throughout the day. You both got back to his place and went to his room and you watched as he basically threw himself onto his bed.

“So Chris are you gonna tell me what’s got you all worked up today?” You smirk.

“Fuck sakes, just you in that god damn outfit. All I’ve been thinking about all day is ripping it off of you. You bending over to pick up your phone, I know damn well you did that on purpose to flash me. Never mind the countless other shit you did” He responds with a slight groan.

“Seems like you’re quite needy baby” You reply as you make your way towards him.

He doesn’t reply and instead pulls you into a kiss. Your tongues fighting for dominance, yours winning as you were insistent on being in control tonight. Pulling his hair slightly he let out a moan.

“Please” He says in between kissing.

“Please what?” You say, knowing exactly what was coming next.

“Touch me, please I need you. I’ve been thinking about it all day.” He responds.

“Are you gonna be a good boy for me?” You ask.

“Yes, I’ll be your good boy” He replies and thrusts his hips up.

“I think you need to make mommy feel good before you deserve anything” You reply, knowing it was slightly selfish but god you wanted his mouth on your pussy.

With that he immediately flipped you over and started kissing down your neck, eager to please you.

“Let me take my shirt off” You say sitting up.

He nods and takes his off as well, while watching your every move.

“Fuck I love your tits” He groans.

“Prove it” You demand back.

Chris takes your nipple into his mouth, swirling his tongue around it and sucking. Doing the same to the other while squeezing them. He makes his way down to your stomach, slowly getting closer to your pussy.

“Can I take these off?” He questions, referring to your skirt and panties.

“Of course” You reply.

He takes them off and immediately gets to work. Flicking his tongue, circling your clit and sucking. He has always been good with his mouth. You arch your back and push his head down slightly.

“Mmm you’re making mommy feel so good. Letting me use you for my own pleasure” You moan out.

“Anything for you” He says back.

“Use your fingers pretty boy” You tell him.

He once again does as you say, starting off with one finger inside you and slowly adding a second. Pumping them in and out of you while continuing to use his tongue on all the right places. You reach your breaking point and come. Chris adored making you finish, but god he wanted more of you, every inch.

You sit up and kiss him, already planning to suck him off but wanting him to ask for it.

“Mommy please I need you to touch me” He whines.

“Yeah? You want me to suck you off? You think you deserve that?” You reply.

“Y-yes, fucking hell” Chris replies back.

You slowly lower his shorts and boxers, his dick springing out slapping against his stomach. Smiling to yourself as you notice the amount of pre-cum on his tip. You immediately take all of him into your mouth, letting his dick hit the back of your throat. That took him by surprise, you usually worked your way up to that. You listen to his whimpers and moans as you continue, pulling back to circle your tongue around his tip and going faster.

You notice he’s close but he interrupts your thoughts, “Mommy can I fuck you?” He says.

“Yeah? You want to fuck my pussy?” You smirk back. You loved when he came in you and knew he did too.

“Please? I’ll make you feel good, I promise” He says back while looking at you, really begging for you now. He wanted nothing more than to feel you wrapped around him.

“Only since you’ve been such a good boy. Lay down” You tell him.

He lays down, you then climbing on top of him and positioning yourself on top of his dick. You lower yourself but only low enough for his tip to be inside you, repeating this motion a few times.

“Mommy I can’t -“ He groans out, you cutting him off.

“Can’t what hm?”

“I can’t wait any longer, I need you” He answers.

“Yeah?” You reply. Him begging having you ready to give in.

“Please” He says looking up at you, you could see the desire in his eyes.

You decided you had teased him enough, lowering yourself and taking all of him inside you. You moaned and you moved yourself up and down continuously, moving your hand to his throat and squeezing a bit.

Chris let out a whine, followed with multiple moans. Finally getting to be inside you.

“Mommy you feel so good” He moaned.

“Yeah? My pretty boy likes me bouncing on his dick?” You replies, you had began going faster, noticing Chris’ eyes clenching shut and his grip on your waist tightening - he was close.

“Fuck - I - fuck can I come in you?” Chris whined out.

“Let me come with you” You told him, throwing your head back. You and Chris coming together was one of your favourite things.

“I can’t hold back much longer” He said.

Knowing to get what you want you had to quicken your pace even more, you instructed Chris to thrust his hips harder.

“Fuck okay baby, on 3 okay?” You groaned out, not even knowing if you yourself could make it.

You counted to 3 and both you and Chris finished. You watched as his mouth fell agape, his hands squeezing your hips and both of you moaning out each others names, him going basically feral over the feeling of you tightening around him. For a few moments you continued moving yourself up and down.

“God you make me crazy” He said as you got off of him.

You smirked and replied, “good”. You loved when Chris was dominant but you also loved the sight of him begging for you.

can’t take it anymore • chris sturniolo

summary: you challenged chris to last nnn to which he confidently accepted. little did he know you’d be making it extra hard for him :)

warnings: suggestive content, making out, mentions of sex. not proofread.

“bet,” he smirked. “come on babe, give me a real challenge.”

you made a bet with chris challenging him to last the entire month of november without doing it. you hadn’t really agreed on his prize if he wins, partly because you’re both just doing this to build up tension and because you had plans to make him lose. but he didn’t know this.

you guys aren’t sex addicts so this challenge wouldn’t be difficult chris thought. that was until he saw you walk through his bedroom door wearing nothing but his shirt. literally nothing else. he loved seeing you in his clothes. he turned to his phone trying to find a distraction.

you noticed this, so you decided to get his attention, “baby can you get my- actually i’ll get it myself,” you leaned over him to reach for your chapstick on the nightstand by his side of the bed, your shirt lifting as you stretch your hand and your bare ass just inches away from his face.

“shit,” he mumbled under his breath. he lightly threw his head back shutting his eyes and trying to think of anything other than pinning you down and getting a taste of you. as you sat back next to him your hand briefly grazed his crotch making him twitch.

“you okay baby?” you asked ever so innocently.

“nice try, it’s gonna take a lot more to break me.” he lied. he wanted nothing more than to have you wrapped around him. but he’s too competitive, he needed to win.

“oh i wasn’t trying to do anything,” another lie, “but hey look at this new chapstick i got its cherry flavoured.” before he had time to even process what you’re saying or doing you grabbed his face with one hand and gave him a short but passionate kiss, lingering a little so he can taste the cherry. he chased after your lips as you pulled away making you giggle.

“see?” he gathered the ability to give a quick answer, “mhm…very sweet.” that night might’ve been the first time he went to sleep before you. he knew if he stayed awake he’d give in.

a few days passed and chris still hasn’t cracked. it was time to really make it hard for him. you put on a short tank top with no bra- so everything was practically on display- along with silk booty shorts. you knew the plan was working because since he came over he hasn’t been able to stop staring at your chest. readjusting himself every time you purposefully lean over when laughing so he gets a glimpse of your tits bouncing. he was starting to get really frustrated.

“chris, what’s wrong? you seem off today,” you inched closer to him on the couch and slid your hand to the back of his neck up to his hair slowly playing with it as if to ‘ease his nerves’ but you had different intentions obviously.

“nah i’m good,” he glances down at your lips then chest and back up to your eyes, “just can’t wait for november to be over.”

“oh,” you straddled his lap placing one hand on his chest and the other cupping his face, “well babe, no one told you kissing me was off limits.” he’d avoided kissing you and pretty much anything else that caused temptation. you brought your face closer to his, lips barely touching, “i missed you,” you almost moan out that last sentence.

you had him in a trance, his eyes low, contemplating, as your thumb rubbed his cheek and your other hand slid down his chest and rested on his stomach just above the waistline of his sweats. he needed one more push, you can tell he’s so close to giving in. you started grinding painfully slow down his growing bulge, “please kiss me, chris,” you whined.

he wasted no time crashing his lips onto yours placing both of his hands on your hips with a tight grip pulling you as close as possible to him. he groaned into the kiss when you continued to grind down on him. your hands tangled in his hair as you kiss him back hard, the kiss quickly becoming sloppy as he shoved his tongue down your throat. you tug on his hair earning a moan from him.

you pulled away to take your breath and the sight in front of you was heavenly. you took a mental image of it. chris looked fucked out, hair messy, lips pink and swollen, mouth parted slightly as he breathed heavily, eyes hazy full of admiration and lust looking you up and down. you wanted more, you wanted him to fully break his streak.

you reached for the strap of your tank top, taking your time to pull it down your shoulder resting loosely on your arm as one of your tits slipped out of it right in front of his face. he almost got whiplash from how fast his eyes traveled down, readjusting underneath you again causing you to throw your head back and moan. you held onto his arms for stability and begged him, “please take it off of me. i need you chris.”

“fuck.” his name sounded like honey dripping from your mouth. he immediately starts sucking on your tit while pulling down the other strap and giving your now fully exposed breast a squeeze. you can feel him getting harder and harder under you. you grip and tug on his hair again making him moan and sending a vibration to your nipple in his mouth. he pulled away looking you straight in the eyes.

“i can’t take it anymore.”

with that he laid you down on the couch, quickly getting on top of you. his knee grazed up and down your crotch as he kissed and sucked your neck surely leaving marks everywhere. he moved down from your neck to your stomach pausing when he reached the waistband of your shorts. he looked up at you and said, “you win. okay i can’t do it anymore i need to fuck you so bad.”

and he did exactly that. it was a long week but totally worth the wait.

Bro, this warmed my old dead heart 😭😭

Overtime

Summary: Sometimes, working overtime isn’t all that bad.

Pairings: Loki x Female Reader

Warnings: Smut, 18+ minors DNI, sex, cunnilingus, teasing, light bondage, office romance.

A/N: This was largely written prior to season 2 and posted right before episode 4, so it’s not entirely canon compliant and the parts that are may be compliant by accident.

Also, @give-me-a-moose and I were on a similar wavelength about Loki angrily reading romance novels and I would strongly recommend checking out her fic The Imagine Nation if you too are enthralled by this idea.

You don’t think that Mobius intended to keep Loki’s desk behind yours.

“It’s temporary,” he tells you apologetically. “He just needs somewhere to go for now, until I figure out what to do with him.”

“You’re talking about him like he’s a stray cat that you found,” you say.

“You won’t even know he’s there, I promise.”

“You’re still doing it.”

Mobius sighs and puts on his most sincere, earnest expression—the one that he always uses when he’s about to ask you for a stupidly massive favor.

And it’s only because you almost never, ever see this look from him that you back down.

“Okay, fine,” you say. “But he’d better be on his best behavior.”

Mobius puts his palms together and tips them toward you. “Thank you. You will not regret this, I promise.”

You sigh and shake your head. “Just remember this next time you’re budgeting for raises.”

But then—in a move that you certainly don’t expect—Loki ends up sticking around. And, in the subtle way that the stray you’ve been feeding slowly turns into your cat, Loki’s temporary desk becomes his permanent desk. And strangely enough, Mobius’ assurances turn out to be more correct than not: Loki does a lot of fieldwork and is often away; when he is at his desk, it tends to be because he is working on more complicated missions, the ones that require poring over mountains of files looking for patterns and trying to untangle the slippery mess of time itself.

Your work is decidedly less glamorous than Loki’s—almost no fieldwork, lots of files. Endless files. Some days you feel as though you must have seen every file in the TVA’s extensive library and then you’re immediately proven wrong by another wing of filing cabinets that you swear wasn’t even there before.

Although he is generally well-behaved as your desk neighbor, Loki’s presence has a way of distracting you. Even if you didn’t know who he was, your gaze would still naturally drift his way, lingering on those regal cheekbones, that ink black hair, that cunning smirk. The way that the fabric of his dress pants clings to his thighs certainly doesn’t help, to say nothing of how his forearms look with his shirtsleeves rolled up. He can make your heart start to race with no more than a casual glance in your direction and god help you if he gives you one of those devastating smiles. Luckily, you don’t think he takes that much notice of you. You have the sort of pleasantly dull exchanges of coworkers who don’t really know each other and he is almost painfully polite to you. It’s a strong departure from the way he interacts with others—with others, he is bold, charming, sarcastic, talkative, a far cry from the more subdued, almost courtly tone he strikes with you. It’s a difference that is so stark that you can’t help but attribute it to some sort of negative feeling on his end.

“How’s it going with Loki?” Mobius asks you during a one-on-one meeting a couple of months after Loki’s temporary desk becomes his permanent desk. “He’s behaving himself, right?”

“It’s been fine,” you say, “though truthfully, I don’t think he likes me all that much.”

“What? Of course he likes you,” Mobius says. “Why wouldn’t he like you? You’re lovely.”

You shrug. “I dunno, he’s just different with me than he is with everyone else. Like…overly polite. It’s like he thinks I’m going to send him to the principal’s office or something.”

“Let me get this straight,” says Mobius. “First you were worried that he wouldn’t behave himself and now you’re worried that he’s too well-behaved?”

Privately, you realize he has a point. Outwardly, though, you’re not going to admit it. The sardonic tilt of Mobius’ mouth suggests that he knows this.

“No, I just…I don’t think he likes me all that much,” you say. “And he’s entitled to that. People don’t like each other all the time, it’s not a big deal.”

This is also a little bit of a lie—you do wish he liked you. Loki is so magnetic it’s hard not to want his attention. And with the matter of your silly little crush, well…that doesn’t help either.

Mobius sighs. “I think you’re overthinking this. He likes you, sometimes it just takes him a little time to warm up. He’s a bit of a prickly guy.”

You bite down the urge to point out that you’ve seen him warm to other people almost immediately. This conversation has already gone on longer than you want and you are edging dangerously close to having to admit that you care so much because you have a big stupid crush on him, which is obviously unacceptable.

“Well, the point is that it’s fine,” you say quickly, trying to project an aura of cool confidence. “I don’t have any complaints, he seems like he’s settling in, so let’s move on. Did you have any feedback on my recent report?”

The furrow between Mobius’ eyebrows deepens just slightly, the only indication that he doesn’t fully believe you. But for whatever reason, he decides to let it go and follows your change in topic without further comment.

This is one of the reasons you like Mobius as much as you do: he always seems to know the right moment to push and the right moment to bend.

You’re not sure if your relationship with Loki would have changed had it not been for the problem of Charles Berlitz.

The joke around the office is that after Mobius convinced Loki to work for the TVA, he needed something new to obsess over and Charles Berlitz was the next best option. It’s hard to say exactly who Berlitz is, as he has a tendency of showing up, well…everywhere. He is quite literally in every timeline, at least as far as anyone can tell. Sometimes he is an author, penning serious, scholarly essays on outlandish theories like the Bermuda Triangle and the Philadelphia Experiment. He seems to have a fondness for all manner of schemes—he was responsible for introducing both homeopathy and multi-level marketing to no fewer than sixty different timelines. His ability to peddle bullshit naturally led him to politics—pick any rebellion, coup, or campaign on any given timeline and there’s a good chance you’ll also find Charles Berlitz.

Scammers and con artists are not atypical in your line of work, but what makes Charles Berlitz an enduring mystery is that he has never been found. You can have reputable documentary evidence that Berlitz was present at a certain time and location, but if you show up to investigate, he is never there. There have been some glimpses over the years—a shadowy face in the back of a crowd, the hem of a cloak disappearing behind a corner—but nothing concrete or substantive.

“Our ghost in the timeline,” Mobius had said in one of his more poetic moments at an all staff meeting, his voice overly hushed and dramatic. You had seen Loki roll his eyes and you had to fake a coughing fit to hide your laugh.

Time moves differently at the TVA, so it’s hard to say how long Mobius has been working on this case when he makes a breakthrough, but it’s not terribly long after your conversation about Loki. A campaign button had been found in an apartment that Berlitz rented for two years in the French Quarter. That particular campaign button could only have existed in one specific timeline and its distribution was limited. You aren’t entirely clear on all of the details, but Mobius seems to have a plan.

And unfortunately, that plan involves you giving up most of your weekend to work.

It’s near quitting time on what passes for a Friday at the TVA. Loki has been in today and you can hear him starting to pack up. Technically, he’s got twenty minutes of work left, but you’re not about to tell him that.

You doodle absently on your notepad. Technically, you’ve also got twenty minutes of work left, but realistically: nothing is happening.

“Oh, great, you’re both still here.”

In general, this phrase has never meant good news for you and when you look up, you see Mobius with a sizable armful of files.

Also not a great sign.

Mobius plunks the stack of files directly on your desk. “There’s been a development with Berlitz. I need you both to review these now.”

“It’s Friday,” says Loki, affronted. “Surely it can wait until Monday.”

“No can do. I need this done by Sunday at the latest,” says Mobius. “This is an all hands on deck situation.”

Loki glances pointedly at the office around you, which has already started emptying out for the weekend.

“All hands on deck, but most hands are already in the field,” Mobius concedes. “Which is why I need the two of you—” He points to you. “You because you’re good—” He gestures to Loki. “And you because you’ve got desk duty.”

“I beg your pardon—” begins Loki.

“He’s grounded,” Mobius says to you in an exaggerated stage whisper.

This is not surprising to you: you had heard a rumor last week about an incident that had occurred on a mission to the inauguration of Richard Nixon and you suspect that these two events are likely connected.

You look at the pile of paperwork on your desk. You could probably get through it on your own in a couple of hours, but if Loki’s helping, maybe you still have a shot at having Saturday to yourself. You bite back a sigh. “What do you need me to find?”

“Anything that mentions anyone from the Lucchese crime family or Nero Variant N2815,” says Mobius. “I’ll go get the rest.”

Your heart sinks. Farewell, Saturday. “There’s more?” you say.

“It’ll be triple overtime, I already got it approved!” he calls over his shoulder

You sigh and glance at Loki who is scowling at the pile of files as though they’d wronged him personally.

There’s a long moment of silence before you speak. “Is there any truth to the rumor I’ve been hearing about the Nixon inauguration?” you ask.

“If it involved a hot air balloon, then yes,” he says rather tonelessly.

“Well.” You pause as you stare at the pile of papers. “At least it was worth it.”

That at least earns you a hint of a smile.

*

Several hours later, your stomach is growling and you’ve developed a rather impressive crick in your neck.

You lean back in your chair, stretching your neck to the side and rubbing the knot that is pulsing in your upper trapezius. Office work has done nothing positive for your posture in general, but tonight’s work has you hunched over more than usual and your neck is aching.

You and Loki have made good progress, but your pile of finished and sorted files is scarcely comparable to the full cart that Mobius had brought in. Back when the evening was new and you weren’t quite so tired, you’d been optimistic about possibly having half a Saturday free from work; that hope has slipped away the longer the evening has dragged on. Now you’re hoping that you’ll still have a bit of Sunday to yourself and even that feels unlikely.

Your stomach growls again. You should probably eat something—you’d worked through your regular dinner hour in a fit of misplaced optimism. The cafeteria is closed this time of night, but there’s a vending machine not far from your office that has shitty coffee and mostly edible sandwiches.

You stand and stretch, stifling a yawn as you turn around. “I’m gonna grab a coffee and some dinner,” you say. “Do you want anything?”

Loki looks up at you from the file in front of him, blinking somewhat dazedly and running a hand through his messy curls. “I’d like to stretch my legs a bit, if you don’t mind the company.”

You honestly didn’t expect him to want to join you. It’s a pleasant surprise, certainly, but also a little nerve wracking in the way that interacting with Loki always is. He’s so handsome and aloof and you’re not quite sure how to talk to him without acting like a total fool.

But you’re also not about to say no, either.

“Of course,” you say, “I don’t mind at all.”

The TVA is unusually quiet at this time of night—the steady hum of fluorescent lights and the murmur of distant voices is all that accompanies the tap of your shoes on the linoleum. It only heightens the jittery, nervous feeling you get from Loki—like your stomach is filled with drunk, lightning struck butterflies.

“Are you finding much?” asks Loki as you enter the hallway together.

You shrug. “A bit. Mostly on the Nero variant. I’m not having as much luck with the Luccheses.”

“I’ve got all of their property transfers, I think,” he says. “Renato Lucchese never met a vineyard he didn’t like.”

“Or racehorses, from what I understand,” you say. “I think that’s how he lost most of his money.”

You arrive at the vending machines. Loki looks at the vending machines and then back at you, a somewhat puzzled and troubled expression on his face.

“This is what you meant when you said you were going to get coffee and dinner?”  he says.

You shrug. “Yeah, what’s wrong with this?”

He points at the coffee machine. “Mobius calls that machine Satan’s coffeemaker, does he not?”

“Yes, but I know how to trick it into giving me something that’s almost palatable,” you say.

Loki gives you a rather dry look. “Something that’s almost palatable?”

“I mean, I’m just trying to manage your expectations. It’s still pretty shitty coffee, it just tastes less burned.”

He looks at you for a long moment before tilting his head toward the hallway. “Come on, let’s go.”

It’s your turn to look skeptical. “What are we doing?”

“We’re going out for dinner.”

*

He takes you to a twenty-four hour diner called Frank’s that’s maybe a five minute walk from the TVA. It’s one of those places with yellowing Formica tables and big booths covered in red faux leather patched with the occasional square of duct tape. It smells like coffee and grease with a faint odor of cigarette smoke despite the prominent no smoking signs.

“I wouldn’t have thought this kind of place was your style,” you say as you sit down in a booth next to the window.

“I’ve expanded my horizons,” he says, sliding into the seat across from you.

An older woman with greying blonde hair approaches your booth. She wears a nametag reading “Connie” in big capital letters, a sticker of a pink cat stuck on the space next to her name.

“How y’all doin’ tonight?” she says as she hands you each a laminated menu. She looks at Loki. “You want your usual?”

“Please,” he says.

“You got it.” She turns to you. “How ‘bout you, hon, can I get ya started with something to drink?”

“Coffee would be great.”

“All right, I’ll be right back with your drinks.”

You raise your eyebrows at Loki as she walks away. “You eat at diners and you have a usual order. My expectations are being completely upended.”

He returns your pleasantly amused expression. “And you have vending machine coffee for dinner. It’s a revealing night.”

“I mean, I don’t actively seek it out,” you say. “It’s a convenient option that I exercise only when I have no other choice.”

“No other choice?” A sly smile curls at his lips. “Do you not have the entire array of space and time at your fingertips?”

“Well, first of all, we aren’t supposed to use TemPads for personal errands without a supervisor’s approval.”

“Technically.”

“No, actually. It’s in the personnel manual. Like verbatim.”

He raises an eyebrow. “You would put yourself through the egregious physical suffering of vending machine coffee simply to appease the capricious whims of our cruel overseer Miss Minutes?”

You bite back a laugh. “You know she’s not actually our boss, right?”

“I can’t discount that possibility. She wields a concerning amount of power within the organization.”

Connie is back with your drinks—coffee for you and tea for Loki. “Sunday Special?” she asks Loki as she sets a metal teapot and empty mug in front of him.

“Please,” he says.

“You got it.” She looks at you. “Didya get a chance to look at the menu or do you need a minute?”

You’re feeling a little daring. “I’ll try the Sunday Special as well.”

“All right, two Sunday Specials comin’ right up,” she says, collecting your menus.

“So, what’s in a Sunday Special?” you ask Loki as you take a sip of your coffee.

“Boiled fish eggs, mainly,” he says, pouring the hot water into his tea mug.

“Liar,” you say promptly.

He raises an eyebrow. “You didn’t even look at the menu, how could you know?”

“Places like this don’t serve fish eggs,” you say. “Way too unusual and definitely the wrong price point.”

“I suppose you’ll just have to see,” he says with a playful glint in his eyes. The easy charm that you’ve seen him use with the others is on full display and it’s enough to make you giddy. Maybe he doesn’t dislike you after all.

“Well, if it’s fish eggs, you’re picking up the bill,” you say, “and I’ll be getting something else instead.”

“You’d really hold me responsible for your impulsive dinner selections?”

“Yep. And I don’t even feel bad about it.”

He raises an eyebrow. “I didn’t realize you could be so unforgiving.”

“Well, you don’t know me all that well.”

“To be fair, you keep to yourself quite a bit.”

“A little bit,” you say. “But also to be fair, you haven’t really asked.”

“On work time?” he says, widening his eyes in mock horror. “That would mean write ups for both of us, I couldn’t let that happen.”

“I think I know enough about you to know that getting in trouble is not one of your primary concerns.”

He gives you a sly smile, like you’ve caught him out and he likes it. “That’s a diplomatic way to put it.” He takes a sugar packet from the dispenser on the table and tears it open before pouring it into his mug. “Well, we’re on break now, so you can safely tell me something about yourself.”

You drum your fingers on your coffee mug. “What do you want to know?”

“Well, this can’t be the only part of your life. Who are you outside the TVA? What did you do before this?”

That giddy feeling comes to a screeching halt and you take in a long, slow breath. It’s a simple question, one that most people can answer to some degree. For you, though, it’s a bit more complicated.

“Well,” you say. You take a sip of your coffee, mostly to give your hands something to do. “I don’t actually know—I chose not to remember when they gave me the option.”

You’re surprised by how gentle his eyes are when you look up. “My apologies,” he says, “I didn’t realize.”

“It’s okay,” you say and you really do mean it. “You couldn’t have known.”

Usually, you say something like this and then gently redirect the conversation, but something about the way he’s looking at you makes you want to continue. Like maybe he understands difficult things and doesn’t mind hearing about something that others would shy away from.

“When they told us everything and said they could fix our memories…” You clear your throat and focus your gaze just above his shoulder. “It’s weird, but I just had a feeling that it wouldn’t be good for me to know…that something really bad had happened. So I asked Mobius to check for me, just to be sure…” You swallow, blinking hard.

You remember how sad Mobius’ eyes were, how he’d gently placed a hand on your shoulder and said, “I think you’re making the right call, kid.”

“It’s not really okay, is it?” Loki says softly.

You shrug. “I mean, it’s…it is what it is.”

“You’re a terrible liar, you know.”

“It’s not a lie—”

He raises a skeptical eyebrow and you remember that he is, in fact, the god of lies.

“It’s more like…I can’t really miss what I don’t know, but at the same time, the reality of that absence hurts a little. So maybe not exactly okay, but not exactly not okay, either.”

There’s a lot of kindness in his gaze and you have to look away because it makes your head spin and your breath catch in your throat. “I’m not really sure if that makes sense,” you say.

“It does.”

There’s a silence between you, but it’s not uncomfortable.

“Do you…do you think you’d want to forget if you had that option?” You’re not entirely sure what prompts the question and you regret it almost as soon as it leaves your mouth. “I’m sorry, that’s probably too personal.”

He shakes his head and there’s a warmth in his eyes that you don’t expect. “I rather think I owe you one.” He pauses, running a finger around the rim of his mug. “Sometimes I do,” he says finally. “It can be quite painful remembering.” He worries his lip between his teeth. “But I’m not sure who I would be without the knowledge of my past, either.” His gaze flicks back to you. “What’s it like for you? Do you feel like you know who you are without those memories?”

It’s a good question—one you’ve never been asked. “I mean, it’s hard to say for sure. I think I do,” you say. “Sometimes I wonder if I was different in my timeline. Maybe I was kinder because I had different experiences that made me more empathetic. Maybe I wasn’t—maybe I was worse. Maybe I had a villain arc.”

He chuckles. “That doesn’t seem likely.”

“I dunno, maybe it explains the vending machine coffee and my fish egg related threats,” you say and you feel almost giddy when he returns your smile. “Or maybe I’m the same and all those experiences that shaped me are just scars I can’t see.” You shrug and take a sip of your coffee. “At the end of the day, though, that timeline is gone. I’m all that’s left. It’s sad, but it’s also freeing, in a way.”

He nods. “Mobius has said much the same.”

You smile slightly. “Our philosophies are similar, I suppose, though I think there are probably more bits of his past self in his present self than he realizes.”

Loki grins. “It’s the jet skis, isn’t it?”

“I mean, I just don’t think most normal people spend that much time expounding on the reliability of the Yamaha engine versus the pure, raw power of the Kawasaki.”

Loki holds up a finger. “But have you gotten the lecture about Yamaha’s braking system?”

“I think I have that memorized at this point.”

“‘The perfect choice for families.’”

“‘You just tap the brakes. Just tap them. Perfectly smooth stop every time.’”

“‘Reliability meets affordability.’”

“‘You can’t say no to that.’”

You think you probably could have riffed on this for a bit, but you’re interrupted by the arrival of Connie with your dinner.

The Sunday Special turns out to be a fairly traditional breakfast—eggs, hash browns, two fluffy pancakes, sausage, toast, a little bowl of strawberries.

“Definitely lots of fish eggs in this meal,” you say to Loki after Connie leaves.

His smile is small, but genuine. “You haven’t looked under the pancakes yet.”

You feel it then, but you don’t fully understand until later that this dinner has unlocked something important between the two of you. After months of awkward, stilted conversation, it’s like you finally understand how to talk to each other. And you’re surprised to find that even outside of your big stupid crush, you actually like Loki. You like his sly smiles and his dry humor and how easily the two of you fall into a routine of playful banter. You click in a way that surprises you, in a way that makes you mourn the lost potential of all those awkward, stilted months and feel giddy about the possibilities ahead.

Dinner is over too soon and you walk back to the TVA feeling revived from the coffee and the conversation. 

Disaster awaits you back at the office, though: you’d left a stack of the Nero variant files on your desk and evidently the construction was too precarious, as the entire pile had tipped off your desk and spilled to the floor, contents scattered everywhere.

“Fucking hell,” you sigh, running a hand through your hair. You’re not sure whether you want to laugh, cry, or scream. Possibly, it’s all three.

“Here.” Loki is bending down on the floor to gather the files. You studiously try to not ogle his ass or thighs. Or at least not obviously. “Clear off some space on your desk—I’ll help.”

Twenty minutes later, you’ve set up an entirely new system—Loki has dragged his chair over to your desk and the cart of unsorted files sits between you, like a surly metallic chaperone. And even later when you’ve sorted out all of the files from the floor, he remains parked at the end of your desk, a stack of new, unsorted files in front of him. Admittedly, it’s a lot more efficient for you to work like this: privately, though, it gives you a warm glow that has nothing to do with workplace efficiency.

“I’ve invented a new game,” he says some time later. 

“What’s that?”

“Every time either one of us finds documentation showing Renato Lucchese losing money on a racehorse he was told was not a good investment, I get to have a drink.”

You look up at him. “Look, I know you’re a god and everything, but I am pretty sure that will kill you.”

He sighs and tosses the file into the Lucchese pile. “I think it would add a little excitement to the evening, don’t you?”

You raise your eyebrows and look back at the file in front of you. “You mean this isn’t your idea of a fun Friday night?”

“My idea of a fun Friday night includes far fewer files and a lot more debauchery,” he says, taking a new file from the cart.

You glance at the clock. “Well, it’s only eleven. I don’t usually start body shots until after midnight.”

“What are body shots?”

For one horrifying moment, you think that you’re going to actually have to explain this to him, but then you get a good look at his expression.

He’s teasing you.

“You’re an ass,” you say, swatting him on the shoulder with the file you’re holding.

He wags a finger at you. “That’s workplace violence. I’m going to have to report that.”

You lean back in your chair and return to your file. “I’m pretty confident that you’ll be put off by the amount of paperwork that process requires.”

He shakes his head as he returns to his own file. “Uncontrolled bureaucracy is how bad actors escape accountability.” There’s a brief pause. “And…there’s another racehorse.”

You continue on like this for the rest of the evening, occasionally chatting and Loki proving definitively that the Renato Lucchese racehorse drinking game could not be played without resulting in a fatality. It’s nice, though. Yes, it’s sorting files and yes, it’s not the most intellectually riveting task you’ve ever done, but spending time with Loki is nice. It’s because of this that you find yourself trying to stay awake, pushing past your looming exhaustion.

But around two, you can’t quite fight the heaviness of your eyelids any longer and you doze off in the middle of a report on the sinking of the Lusitania.

“Hey.” Loki is gently shaking your shoulder. The way he says your name in that deliciously deep voice makes you want to swoon and you’re glad that you have the ready made excuse of sleepiness to explain any embarrassing behavior on your end.

“I think you’d better call it a night,” he says gently. “Get some sleep and come back with fresh eyes.”

“What about you?” you say. “Are you going to do the same, or are you just all talk?”

He smiles at you and it warms you to the very tips of your toes. You could bask in that smile like a cat in a sunbeam.

“I’m starting to fade a bit myself,” he says

“Very convenient,” you say and he grins at you.

“Come on, I’ll see you back home.”

Part of you wants to protest—there’s really no need for him to walk you home—but a larger, louder part of you wants to let it be, prolong the magic of tonight for just a little longer.

There’s a comfortable silence between the two of you as you walk out of the office together. 

“What time do you think you’re going to come in tomorrow?” he asks as you approach the residential wing. “It’s probably sensible to coordinate our efforts a bit.”

“Yeah, that’s a good point,” you say. “I was thinking nine, but that will be dependent on how much coffee I have.”

“Yes, about that,” he says. “I cannot stand idly by and watch you torture yourself with vending machine coffee.”

“Well, the cafeteria will be open, so I was going to torture myself with cafeteria coffee, which is at least thirty percent less over brewed.”

He clicks his tongue. “You’re not making a compelling case for yourself.”

“To be fair, it’s quite late and I’ve been staring at files for hours.”

“All the more reason to get decent coffee,” he says. “We’re going out for breakfast.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Oh, we are?”

“Consider it an intervention,” he says. “I’ll come collect you at eight.”

You’re not quite sure if this is just his natural confidence and swagger coming through or if he’s flirting with you and this counts as a date.

“Where are we going?”

“I know a place.”

*

The place in question turns out to be a food cart in Central Park in 1998.

“Should I even bother asking if you have supervisor approval for this?” you say, looking skeptically at the time door glimmering before you.

Loki scoffs. “I don’t have a supervisor.”

“You do. It’s Mobius.”

“That can’t be right, we’re peers.”

“You’re absolutely not. Did you read any of the onboarding materials?”

He ignores your question. “I don’t see why I’d even need a supervisor, honestly.”

You snort. “Need I remind you of what happened at the Nixon inauguration?”

He spreads his hands in front of him. “It’s not my fault that I’m the only one with a sense of humor.”

“I’m not entirely sure that was the problem,” you say. “Gerald Ford is never going to be the same, from what I understand.”

Loki waves a dismissive hand. “He’ll be fine, the tail isn’t permanent. Now, are you coming or not?”

You roll your eyes at him and make a halfhearted complaint about proper protocol, but you know that you’re walking through that time door and not looking back. You knew that before he even posed the question.

The food cart is owned by a man named Samir who has a wide smile and booming laugh. He talks to Loki like he’s a friend and he tells you that you have the prettiest eyes he’s ever seen. You are fairly certain he’s exaggerating, but you stuff a few extra bills into the tip jar anyway.

“I can’t believe you fell for that,” says Loki as you walk away, each carrying a coffee and a brown paper bag with a breakfast sandwich.

“Fell for what?” you say, batting your eyes at him. “I do have beautiful eyes.”

“I’ve heard him say that on at least thirty separate occasions.”

“Yeah, but this time he really meant it. I could tell.”

He rolls his eyes and leads you to a park bench overlooking a wide, grassy field. The leaves are just starting to change and the air has a little bit of a bite to it. 

You sit down on the bench and take a sip of your coffee.

“It is good coffee, I’ll give you that,” you say.

“See,” says Loki, “you can’t go back to that vending machine sludge after this.”

“I mean, if it’s eleven o’clock at night and I’m on a deadline, I can.”

“Darling. You have a TemPad.”

“Loki. Read the personnel manual.”

He wrinkles his nose. “It’s not really my genre.”

You roll your eyes and take out your breakfast sandwich. “What is your genre?”

He raises an eyebrow. “Is that a serious question?”

“Of course it is,” you say. “I love talking about books.”

He gives you a slight smile and takes a sip of his coffee. “A little bit of everything, honestly,” he says. “Philosophy. Magical theory. History. Politics. Anything from Asgard, really, though it can be a bit more challenging getting some of those titles.”

“I’ve had pretty good luck with the Library of the Sacred Timeline—have you checked there yet?”

He frowns. “I’m not familiar.”

“Oh, you’d like it—it’s on the eighteenth floor. It’s intended to be a collection of the greatest works of literature from as many branches of the timeline as possible,” you say. “It started as a research project, but people liked it and it just kind of evolved into this huge collection. They’ve actually got a pretty sizeable collection of books from Asgard.”

It’s like you’ve told him that his personal paradise had been located on the eighteenth floor this entire time. “Will you show me?”

He is practically vibrating with the sort of anticipatory, manic energy that you typically would associate with Christmas morning right before you tear into presents. It’s sweetly endearing.

“Of course.”

Ten minutes later, you’re leading him through the winding hallways on the eighteenth floor. You’re not surprised he hasn’t heard about the library—it’s a bit out of the way and the eighteenth floor is so poorly designed that it’s not terribly easy to find.

The design of the library is a sharp departure from the rest of the TVA. The shelves and floors are made of the kind of dark mahogany that you typically see in the kind of estates that look like something directly out of a Jane Austen novel. Worn oriental rugs muffle your footsteps on the creaky wood floors and the air smells faintly of dust and paper.

There’s a subtle change in Loki when you walk through the doors—almost like a muscle in his shoulders finally relaxes and he seems truly at home for the first time since he arrived.

You touch his hand. “This way.”

You lead him into the stacks, back to the far corner, right after the books from Alfheim.

“You can borrow whichever ones you like,” you say softly. “There’s a sign out sheet at the front desk.”

He nods, though you don’t think he really hears you—he only has eyes for the shelves, his gaze sweeping across the spines like they’re old friends. You’re about to excuse yourself to give him a little privacy when his brow furrows and he exhales sharply. “Oh, you can’t be serious.”

“What is it?”

They have the entirety of the finest Asgardian literature at their disposal. Untold centuries of the writings of our greatest minds—” he plucks a book off the shelf, “—and they choose to include this?”

The title looks fairly innocuous—a red, leather bound book with the title The Cloistered Heart embossed in gold script on the front. You take the book from him and open it. “What’s the problem with this?”

“It’s inconsequential fluff, literary pablum of the highest order.”

This is the Loki that you’re more familiar with and a smile curls at your lips. Almost on cue, you flip the book open to a chapter titled “The Wedding and Bedding of Aloisa.”

You bite back a laugh and look up at him. “It’s a romance novel.”

“Precisely my point,” he says. “To think that this is on the same shelf as Nielsen and Auber.”

“That’s kind of how libraries work,” you say, flipping further into the book. The phrases “throbbing length” and “eager moans” draw your eye and you have to tamp down another laugh. “Oh, and it’s a sexy romance novel.”

“It appeals to the lowest common denominator, yes.”

“What, so you’re too good for a bodice ripper?”

He scoffs. “I prefer to do the bodice ripping myself, not read some overwrought description of it.”

You are glad you’re looking at the book because you’re pretty sure you’d disintegrate if you had to make eye contact with him while he delivered that line. “Oh spare me,” you say lightly, snapping the book shut and drawing it to your chest. “I’m gonna read this.”

He blows out a puff of air. “It’s a waste of your time.”

“I’ve got lots of time, I can afford to waste it,” you say cheekily. “Besides, I’m curious to see what kind of book turns the god of mischief into a pearl clutching prude.”

Loki sputters. “Prude? Darling, let me assure you, I’m no prude—”

“I’ll leave you to browse,” you say with a grin as you turn away from him. “Come find me at the front when you’re ready to go.”

You’re a few chapters into the book when Loki rejoins you at the front of the library, a small stack of books tucked under his arm.

You close your book with a snap. “This book is a delight. I think your real issue is just that you’re no fun.”

He scoffs. “I’m very fun.”

“Could’ve fooled me.”

You bicker playfully back and forth as you check out your books and leave the library. A quick glance at your watch tells you that you spent much more time there than you’d planned. You can’t quite bring yourself to worry about that, though, not with the memory of Loki’s wonderstruck expression burning so bright in your mind.

There’s a bit of a lull in the conversation as you wait for the elevator.

“Thank you,” he says softly.

“For what?”

“For showing me that.”

“Of course. I’m sorry you didn’t know about it sooner.”

He looks at you, lips parting slightly like he’s about to say something. His tongue swipes briefly over his bottom lip and you would swear that his gaze drops to your mouth for just a second.

For just a second—one heady, slightly irrational second—you think he might be about to kiss you.

The ding of the elevator arriving breaks the spell, startling you just a little. You run a hand through your hair, trying to give off the impression of composure even as your heart beats wildly in your chest.

Loki gestures to the elevator doors. “After you.”

There is a group of analysts in the elevator already, chatting animatedly and completely obliterating any chance you may have had at recapturing that moment.

You try not to dwell too much in contemplating what ifs or timeline branches—often, it feels too much like work, something Mobius might assign you.

But you know that the possibility of that moment—what if the elevator had been a hair slower, what if those analysts had taken a different route, what if you were braver—you know that’s something that’s going to haunt you for a while.

*

You wouldn’t give up that time in the library for anything—it’s one of those moments that feels formative, something that you’ll return to again and again for one reason or another.

But it’s also true that it’s time that you probably could have used for sorting files and as Saturday ticks on, you can’t help but wish you had a way to pull another hour out of somewhere.

“We’re not going to be able to make this deadline, are we?” you say with a sigh.

It’s getting late into the evening and the cart of files still to be sorted still remains depressingly full, despite the fact that you’d brought both lunch and dinner back to your desk so you could continue working.

Loki eyes the remaining files. “I think we might. We made good progress today.”

You rub your eyes. “My brain feels like it’s about to leak out my ears.”

Loki takes the file you are working on and sets it back in the stack of unsorted files. “I think that might be a sign it’s time to turn in,” he says.

“There’s still so much left.”

“There’s still tomorrow.”

You reach for the file. “Well, let me just—”

He pulls your hand away from the pile. “You can come back to it in the morning. Besides, if you’re this tired, you’re not going to do good work anyway.”

He squeezes your hand and drops it. It’s brief enough to still be friendly, but unusual enough to make you wonder and send your mind racing back to that moment by the elevator.

You shake the thought away. It’s late and you’re tired.

You heave a world weary sigh and slump back in your chair. “I hate it when you’re right.”

To his credit, he only smirks a little. “Come on. I’ll walk you back.”

Once again, there’s no reason for him to do this, but once again, you’re inclined to let him.

You pack up for the evening and walk out of the office side by side. You’re trying very hard not to think about the fact that this is likely the last night that you’ll do this, that tomorrow the assignment will be over.

As you near the residential wing, you start to hear distant shouts. If you inhale deeply, you catch a very faint whiff of explosives—you’re not sure what kind.

“I think someone brought work home,” you say with a sigh. 

This happens from time to time—things get out of hand in the field or something happens when retrieving an asset or a target and all hell breaks loose at the TVA. Mobius had once referred to it as “bringing work home” and the name had stuck.

“Wasn’t there an incident in this wing not long ago?” asks Loki.

“Yes.” You sigh, running a hand through your hair. “I had to call off the next day—I got no sleep that night.” You listen carefully, trying to determine the source of the noise and the status of the problem. “But maybe it’s almost over,” you say with an optimism you don’t fully feel. “Sometimes these things are resolved really quick.”

Your heart continues to sink the closer you come to your home. The acrid burn of explosives only increases and you think you catch the low, dull roar of something not quite human.

And indeed, when you turn the final corner, you are immediately stopped by an electric blue barrier being monitored by a hunter. G-21–you’ve worked with her on a couple of missions before.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” slips out of your mouth before you can stop yourself.

“There’s an ongoing incident in this area,” says G-21 and you almost want to laugh because no shit. 

“How long do you think it’s gonna be closed off?” you ask.

She shrugs. “We’re at a code 54 right now, but it’s probably gonna escalate.”

With pitch perfect timing and before you can even try to remember what a code 54 means, there’s an almighty crash and a low bellow.

“Go!” she yells before running toward the commotion amid frantic calls for backup.

Loki is grabbing your wrist and pulling you into a run.

Your standard issue work shoes are comfortable enough on a day to day basis, but you certainly want to have words with whoever decided that leather soled shoes with absolutely no grips were a good choice for a building floored almost entirely in linoleum. In a low stakes situation, it’s meant occasionally you wipe out in the cafeteria and hurt nothing but your pride. In this situation, it means that Loki’s firm grip on your hand is the only thing keeping you upright.

But there’s a small mercy in that while you can still hear distant crashes and shrieks, whatever is happening down that hallway doesn’t seem to be following you and eventually, you both slow to a brisk walk and Loki drops your hand.

You haven’t even had a chance to consider where you are going to sleep tonight. You could probably curl up on that terrible couch in the office and just plan on getting up early enough to run back to your place for a quick shower and a change of clothes…assuming the incident resolves by then—

“You can stay with me,” says Loki, as though he can hear you trying to sort this out.

“Oh, that’s okay, I’ll just—”

“If you say you’re going to sleep on that terrible couch in the office, I will personally take you to the most boring governmental proceeding I can find and leave you there until you come to your senses.”

“Sounds like a great place to fall asleep,” you say.

His eyes glint, but his tone brooks no arguments. “You’re staying with me tonight.”

You sigh, but you can’t think of a counterpoint. “When did you get so bossy?”

“Darling, I’m a prince,” he says with a bit of a wry smirk. “It’s my birthright.”

Loki lives on the opposite end of the residential wing and his place looks quite a bit like yours—he’s got an extra window in the kitchen but the floor plan is otherwise the same. A lot of his furniture is standard issue, but there are little details that make it seem more personal: an area rug with a bit of fraying on the edges, a painting of what you think is an Asgardian landscape, a vase filled with dried flowers so delicate they look like they might disintegrate if you were to touch them. And books—so many books. Books on shelves, stacked on the coffee table, tucked into the little rack that you know is meant to hold magazines. Hardbacks, paperbacks, leather bound, dog-eared, well-worn and brand new. It’s no wonder he was so excited about the library.

“Have a seat,” he says, gesturing to the couch. “I’ll get some things for you.”

You sit down and he disappears down the hall. You idly examine the books stacked on the end table next to you. Many are quite clearly from Asgard and it sparks a pang of sympathy—it’s like his homesickness is on full display in his living room and there’s something sweet and sad about seeing that vulnerability laid so bare.

He returns a few minutes later with a pair of pajamas, a toothbrush, and a hand towel.

“Here,” he says, handing you the pile. “Bathroom’s just down the hall. I’ll make up a bed for you.”

“Thanks.”

In the bathroom, you realize that the pajamas he’s given you aren’t the standard set you can order from the TVA. These are made of a dark emerald silk that ripples over your skin like water, and somehow, that makes it feel a thousand times more personal than if he’d loaned you a standard set. They don’t fit quite right on you, but they’ll work well enough for tonight.

You brush your teeth and attempt to get through as much of your evening routine as you can before collecting your clothes and exiting the bathroom.

When you return to the living room, you expect to find that he’s made up a bed for you on the couch. These living units only have one bedroom—it would be quite reasonable to have you sleep on the couch.

You do not expect to find a pajama clad Loki stretched out reading on the couch, a blanket over his lap and his head propped up on a pillow like he intends to sleep there.

You exhale slowly. “Please tell me you are not giving up your bed.”

“Don’t be absurd, of course I am,” he says without even looking up from his book. “The point of this was to prevent you from sleeping on a couch, not simply put you on a couch in a different location.”

You wish you had something to throw at him. “You don’t even fit on that couch.”

“Luckily, my knees bend. Besides, you’re a guest,” he says, as though that settles it.

You roll your eyes and plunk yourself down in the armchair across from the couch, setting your pile of clothes on the floor. “I’m not moving until you give up the couch.”

He finally looks up from his book. “You’re really going to do this?”

You examine your fingernails, flicking away an invisible speck of dust. “I’m not the one being unreasonable. I’m simply meeting you at your level.”

“If you think that I’m being unreasonable and you’re also saying you’re meeting me at my level, does that not mean you are admitting that you are being unreasonable?”

“It’s nearly one o’clock in the morning. I’m not arguing semantics with you.”

“Fine.” His eyes glimmer as he sets his book down and slowly rises to his feet. “But you’re still not sleeping on the couch.”

“Oh, you’re going to be so disappointed when you realize how wrong you are,” you say. You think you see your opening and you try to play it cool.

He’s walking toward you, leaving your path to the couch wide open. In your head, you can see exactly how this works: you’ll spring from your chair and dart around the coffee table before diving onto the couch like a baseball player sliding into home plate, soundly defeating Loki. Easy peasy.

Instead, what happens is that you spring to your feet and Loki moves with inhuman speed, grabbing you around your waist and pinning you to the front of his chest, stopping you in your tracks almost immediately.

“I suppose I should have expected that,” he says. Your back is facing him, but you can almost hear the dry, sardonic look he’s giving you.

“Probably,” you say. “God of mischief and all.” You struggle fruitlessly against his iron grip. “You can let me go now.”

He laughs. “I’m afraid I can’t. It was clearly a mistake to trust you. I won’t be making that error again.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you say, trying again to squirm away from him. “Let me go.”

“The interesting thing about all of this is that you’ve made a rather substantial tactical error,” he says, continuing as though he can’t hear you.

“You’re bluffing,” you say with more confidence than you feel.

“Fascinating theory,” he says, “but I don’t think it’s going to work out for you.”

With that same ridiculous speed, he’s suddenly spinning you around and lifting you, tossing you easily over his shoulder.

“Hey!” you shout in protest.

“I warned you,” he says, his voice full of mirth as he carries you toward the bedroom.

This is not exactly how you’ve imagined being carried off to bed by Loki.

Though, admittedly, you do have a nice view of his ass.

“This is ridiculous,” you say.

“You brought this upon yourself.” He’s walking into the bedroom and a moment later, he’s lifting you from his shoulder and tossing you unceremoniously onto his bed.

You scramble to your feet and try to lunge toward the door, but he’s clearly expecting that. Before your feet even hit the floor, he catches you around the waist and hauls you back to the bed. Your back hits the mattress and you try to leverage the momentum to propel yourself back onto your feet.

He catches you immediately and you find yourself back on the bed again.

“I don’t mean to be patronizing,” he says, failing to bite back a laugh, “but it’s adorable that you think you can outmaneuver me.”

That is deeply offensive and the only way you can earn my forgiveness is by letting me take my rightful place on the couch.” You can’t quite keep the laugh from your voice.

He grins. “Not a chance.”

You attempt to dive off the opposite side of the bed, only to have him grab you by the ankles and pull you back. You manage to dislodge him and lunge in the opposite direction, only to be immediately thwarted.

It becomes increasingly hilarious the longer it goes on and soon your sides are aching from laughter. Loki is laughing too, but it doesn’t seem to affect his strength or speed at all.

Eventually, he wrestles you back down onto the bed and you are fairly certain there’s no way out of this one—he’s got your wrists pinned above your head and his legs locked around yours. You’re both a little out of breath.

“Yield,” he says.

You shake your head. “Never.”

His gaze flicks to your lips and back to your eyes. “Yield.”

“No.”

Something has changed. There’s an electricity and intensity that crackles in the air between you, possibilities blooming in both of your gazes. It feels a little like that moment by the elevator, but you’re afraid to hope, afraid to even wish because the idea of him wanting you still feels as impossible as capturing smoke with a net. 

But the way he’s looking at you, the way his gaze keeps drifting between your eyes and your lips…that’s not nothing.

“Yield.”

You lick your lips, your heart beating wildly. “No.”

Is it just your imagination, or did his breath hitch when you licked your lips?

“Yield.”

God, he’s so close and you want him so badly. 

“No.”

He looks again at your lips and this time, he closes the distance between you.

They call him Silvertongue—you’ve heard the jokes, you’ve rolled your eyes at all of them. But as he kisses you, you realize that there’s an element of truth there because only seconds in and you’re ready to sign away your soul to live under the power of Loki’s tongue. The slow, warm slide of it against yours, the way he guides your mouth against his, the way he lets out a soft sigh as he tastes you—you would give up everything if it meant you could stay like this.

“Yield,” he breathes against your lips.

“No,” you say.

He deepens the kiss, catching your lower lip between his teeth and gently tugging until you whimper and arch against him.

He still has your hands pinned against the bed, his grip unyielding when you try to wrestle them away.

“Let me touch you,” you say when he draws back. You want to touch him everywhere—run your hands along every muscle you’ve admired from afar. 

“Then yield,” he says with a grin, his eyes flashing with devilish intent.

You consider this for a moment. You could give in—there aren’t really any stakes at this point and you’re pretty sure you’re both going to end up sleeping in his bed tonight anyway. But that glint of mischief in his eyes also promises some intriguing possibilities if you stand firm.

“No,” you say.

“Such a pity,” says Loki, though his expression is one of hungry delight.

His hands slip free of your wrists then, but they stay pinned to the bed by some invisible force.

“Cheater,” you say. 

“I think this is only fair,” he says, his hands sliding to your hips. “I’m clearly the victor, am I not entitled to my prize?”

You shiver. “Your prize?”

“Yes.” He kisses down the column of your throat. “My lovely, lovely prize.”

“How can I be your prize if I’m also your competitor?”

“You think too much,” he mumbles against your neck.

“You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

“Generally, it’s not.” He sits back on his heels between your legs, looking you over with satisfaction. “But in this case, it’s distracting you from more pressing matters.” His hands creep under the hem of your shirt, stroking the small of your back, thumbs tracing teasingly along the waistband of your pajama pants. 

“Have I mentioned how much I enjoy seeing you in my clothes?” he asks. There’s a husky depth to his voice and a hunger in his eyes that sends a flood of arousal to your cunt.

“You have not,” you say.

“A casualty of too much thinking,” he says solemnly, his thumbs gently grazing the skin at your hipbones. “You look utterly delectable. I almost want to leave them on.” His eyes glitter with mischief. “Almost.” His hand strays to the bottom button on your pajama top. “May I?”

You nod. “Yes.”

He slips the button free and slowly makes his way up until your shirt is open. He carefully pushes the fabric aside, baring your breasts to his sight and touch.

You’ve never felt more beautiful seeing Loki stare at you, lips slightly parted, eyes wide and hungry. He trails one hand up your stomach and rib cage and slowly brushes a thumb over your nipple. You gasp and the sensitive skin puckers and stiffens as he palms your breast, rolling your nipple between his thumb and forefinger.

“Gorgeous,” he murmurs as he lowers his mouth to your breast, his tongue and lips taking up the role of his hand, while his other hand moves to cup your other breast. You whimper, wishing you could run your hands through his hair. “That’s it,” he purrs, “I want to hear all the sounds you can make, my love.”

You rock your hips forward and arch your back as he lavishes attention on your breasts. It’s the most delicious kind of torture, having him so close, but not being able to touch him.

He’s taking his time, which you both love and hate. He feels so good, but you need him to touch you, you need to touch him, you need him inside of you. You wait until you can’t take it any more and breathe his name like it’s a prayer.

You wonder if this is what he was waiting for because with little more than a brief smirk and a wicked look, he starts kissing his way back up your chest and neck. You whimper when his lips meet yours and you can feel him grin as he kisses you. He fits his hips against yours, angling himself so that his cock rubs up against your clit just right and you moan into his mouth. You can tell that he’s big and part of you wants to savor the anticipation even though you feel like you might go mad if he doesn’t fuck you now. You rock your hips against him, trying to feel that friction.

His large hands frame your face, one hand sliding to cradle the back of your head so he can draw you deeper, the other trailing from your cheek to your throat.

Both hands soon stroke down your sides, lingering teasingly at the waistband of your pajama pants. He hooks his thumbs underneath the waistband and you lift your hips. He slides your pants down maybe an inch and you can feel him smiling as he kisses you. You lift your hips again and your waistband creeps down another inch.

“Loki.” His name falls from your lips with a sigh.

“What is it, my love?”

“Touch me,” you breathe. “Please.”

You lift your hips again and this time, he pulls the fabric fully down and off your legs. He guides your legs apart and stares appreciatively at your bare cunt, his teasing expression replaced by a rapt awe.

“Beautiful,” he murmurs. 

You believe him.

His hands stroke your thighs, seemingly in no hurry, despite your pleading whimpers and the way you arch against the mattress. He draws his thumb gently along your slit, barely grazing your clit.

“Do you know what an utter distraction it’s been sitting behind you?” he asks, tracing your clit in the slowest, lightest circle.

You arch upward, hands still bound by his magic. “Tell me,” you breathe, your hips rising to chase his hand.

“Every time you stood up, I could only think about bending you over the desk.”

You manage a sly smirk. “And here I thought you didn’t like me much at all.”

His thumb presses a little more against your clit and you moan.

“I’ve wanted you from the moment I saw you,” he says, rolling his thumb in a slow circle. “I kept you at arm’s length partly as a matter of protection.”

For who?”

“You,” he says. “I’m not fully redeemed in some eyes and you being involved with a dangerous variant—”

“You’re not,” you say.

“Some would disagree.”

“Well, they’re wrong,” you say. “You’re not a dangerous variant. You’re Loki Laufeyson and I want you just as you are.”

There’s something unreadable in his expression and it makes you wonder how many people have told him that he can just be himself.

“You should be careful saying such lovely things to me, you know,” he says solemnly.

You raise an eyebrow. “Oh really? And why is that?”

“Because it makes me want to do very wicked things to you.”

You’re surprised you’re not shaking, you want him so badly. “What kinds of wicked things?”

“Oh, all manner of wicked things.” He presses a kiss to the inside of your knee, his tongue swiping briefly against your skin. “Things with my mouth...” His thumb rolls over your clit again, his index finger teasing your entrance before retreating. “…my hands…” He drags his gaze over your naked form before locking eyes with you. “My cock.”

A shiver works its way up your spine. “So if I talk about how I think you’re really clever and funny and I find it unbelievably sexy, what sort of wicked thing would that merit?”

The intensity of his gaze makes you shiver again. He crouches down and presses another kiss against the inside of your knee, slowly moving upward. “If you keep talking like that, I’m not going to let you leave my bed for days.”

“You know that’s not a disincentive, right?” you say, sucking in a sharp breath as he nips at the soft skin of your inner thigh. “I’ve wanted you for such a long time, Loki.”

“I’ll make it weeks if you’re not careful.”

“Again, not a disincentive.” You gently tug at your bound wrists and find that they’re still firmly secured. It’s exhilarating, even though you really wish you could run your hands through his hair, especially if he ends up where you think he’s going.

“What else should I tell you?” you muse as he continues his agonizingly slow path along your thigh. “You know, half the reason I kept to myself was that I wanted you so much I was certain that I’d make a fool of myself.”

That earns you a few circles of your clit with his thumb, but his progress up your thigh remains slow. You have a theory about what might move the needle, though.

“I know you like to act like you’re this sort of barely reformed villain, but I think there’s more good in you than you’d like people to believe.”

This time, he moves up to the crease where your thigh joins your hip, close enough that you can feel the heat of his breath ghosting along your labia. His tongue traces a line along your skin and you briefly wonder if you’ll be able to hold it together enough to deliver the last part.

“And,” you say, trying to keep your voice steady, “yesterday and today made me want you even more because I feel like I finally saw who you really are and you’re even more wond—”

Your words abruptly give way to a breathy moan because his perfect, skilled tongue has finally found its way to your clit.

You had a plan from here, but whatever it was has dissolved into nothing under the skilled caress of Loki’s tongue. You suspected he would be good at this from the way that he’d kissed you earlier, but you could not have imagined that it would feel like this.

“Oh my god, Loki.” Your thighs are already quaking. You tug again at the invisible bonds on your wrists, but they hold fast. Something about the way the bonds are keeping you gently stretched along the bed combined with how his large hands have your thighs spread open seems to heighten every sensation. There’s no wiggling away from him or adjusting yourself so that you feel more or less of the onslaught of his tongue on your cunt. You are completely at his mercy and you’re not entirely surprised that you fucking love it.

He slides a finger into your aching channel and your cunt shudders around the thick intrusion. The warm, roiling center of your orgasm starts builds in your hips with every stroke of his tongue, spinning faster and faster, like ocean winds whipping up into a hurricane. Your back arches and his tongue presses flat against your clit, and suddenly you know that this is going to be what takes you over the edge.

Loki seems to know it too, at least from the way that he presses his tongue more firmly against you, one arm slung across your hips to hold you in place. His other hand slides two fingers inside you, rocking and curling against that aching, tender spot.

You whimper, your hips bucking wildly. It’s so good and so much and you are almost there.

You look down at him then, his hair wild, hollowed cheeks flushed pink as his tongue works you over, his eyes closed like he couldn’t imagine anything more blissful than being in between your legs while you come undone.

This is ultimately what tips you over the edge. The storm that has been forming inside you is finally let loose and you arch your back and cry out in a wordless scream as your climax crashes into you.

Only then do the bonds around your wrists release and your hands fly down to grab his hair as your body shakes with pleasure.

It takes a moment for you to get your breath back and reacquaint yourself with the concept of speech, but when you do, you find Loki looking up at you, his expression pure mischief.

“And to think you wanted to sleep on the couch.”

“It wasn’t that I wanted to sleep on the couch, it’s that—” Your voice cuts off as his tongue starts stroking your clit again.

“It’s what?” he asks in between strokes, his smirk obvious in his voice. The lingering ripples of your orgasm are coalescing around the path of his tongue, tightening that coil in your belly again.

“Fuck—you’re not playing fair, you can’t just—” You lose your sentence to a low moan that rises up from your chest. “You can’t just—fuck, yes—you can’t…oh god, yes, just like that.”

His laughter rumbles against you as your hips start rocking against his mouth. How are you already so close?

“You can’t just—fuck—win an argument by—”

You’re trying to say that he can’t expect to win an argument by making you come and you think he might understand this based on how determined he seems to be to prove you wrong. His fingers curl again until he finds that soft, tender spot that is so often the key to your unraveling.

You have stopped trying to complete that sentence—you moan, your hands tangling in his hair, urging him on as the swell of your climax rushes up, inevitable as a tidal wave looming over a seaside village.

You cry out as it crests and breaks, falling down over you in a rush of tingling pleasure that feels like champagne and fireworks all at once.

“Now, what was it you were saying, my love?” he asks as he releases your clit a moment later. “Something about how I can’t just win an argument by making you come? I couldn’t quite hear you over the sound of you coming completely undone on my tongue.”

“Oh, you think you’re so smart,” you say, giving him a stern look as he crawls up your body.

“You know what I think?” he says, settling himself on his side next to you. “I think you liked submitting to me.”

You shiver before you can even think about hiding it and his smile turns decidedly vulpine. 

“You did, didn’t you? You liked having your hands bound and being completely at my mercy while I licked your pretty cunt until you came undone in my mouth.”

“You are enjoying this far too much,” you say.

“I am enjoying it the correct amount.”

You realize your hands are now free to explore his body and you tug at his pajama shirt. “I think you’re wearing too many clothes,” you say.

He gives you a wicked grin as he lets you pull his shirt over his head. “Yes, perhaps it’s time we even things up.”

You pull the shirt away and rake your eyes over him greedily, your hands following the path of your gaze. He is as perfect as you imagined, unfairly beautiful in the dim light of the bedroom.

You hook your thumbs into the waistband of his pajama pants and lower them an inch, a cheeky parallel of how he teased you earlier. His lips curl into a sharp smile when he realizes what you’re doing.

“Interesting strategy.” There’s a bit of a growl in his voice, a rough desperation that makes your cunt clench. “But I think you forgot that I have the upper hand here.”

He raises his hand and with a twist of his wrist, his remaining clothes dissolve in a shimmer of green and he is bare before you.

Your breath catches in your throat. His cock commands your immediate attention, nudging up against your thigh—he’s big, as you suspected, but completely bare and rock hard, he somehow seems longer and thicker than he had when he was grinding against you.

He pulls you into a slow kiss as you reach for his cock. You wrap your hand around him, delighting in the silky hardness of him, the way he throbs in your hand and the low groan he makes as your hand moves from base to tip and back, the way his hips thrust along with you. Your cunt clenches in anticipation.

After a moment, though, he places his hand over yours, slowing your movements.

“I need to be inside you,” he rasps.

“Yes,” you breathe.

He rolls on top of you  and you’re not sure that you’ve ever felt anything quite as wonderful as the heat of his bare skin and yours pressed together. This feeling means intimacy, a closeness that you’d longed for but never expected even in your wildest daydreams.

He pulls you into a kiss, slow, soft, and languid, like you have all the time in the world and he intends to take it. It’s decadent and dreamy and perfect.

But the heavy weight of his bare cock resting against your stomach combined with the ache between your legs—an ache that would be so perfectly soothed by the hard column of flesh currently throbbing against you—proves to be a force too powerful to resist for very long.

You cant your hips against him, snaking one leg around his waist, hoping he’ll get the hint.

He does.

He braces himself on one hand, the other sliding between your bodies to rub his cock along your slick folds. He positions himself at your entrance, waiting for your breathy plea to begin to ease himself slowly into you.

He fills and stretches you in the most wonderful way, but even more than that, he feels like home. The thought strikes you quite suddenly and you’re not entirely sure about everything it means, but you know it’s good and right.

He pauses for just a moment, seeming to savor the feeling.

“You feel better than I ever imagined,” he says.

You quirk an eyebrow at him. “You imagined?”

He gives you a hungry smile as he leans in to kiss you. “Like I said: it has been an utter distraction sitting behind you.”

His rhythm is slow and easy, like he wants to take his time learning every inch of you and memorizing how you react to his touch. His mouth moves over yours in a slow kiss that’s somehow both languid and demanding, his tongue gliding in and out of your mouth in the same rhythm of his hips rocking into you. His cock bumps up against that sweet spot inside of you that his fingers had teased earlier, each stroke inching you closer to bliss.

He shifts the angle of his hips so that his pubic bone grinds against your clit and it feels so good you almost see stars. You can feel your orgasm building, your cunt growing slicker and tensing around his thrusting cock.

He draws back to look at you, eyes hazy with a loose, dreamy kind of pleasure.

“Do you have any idea how good you feel?” he breathes.

You are shaking. “Loki, I’m gonna come.”

“I know you are,” he purrs. “Let go for me, let me feel you, my love.”

With two more thrusts of his hips, you unravel.

He groans as you tremble around him, but mostly, he watches your face, rapt by the way you throw your head back against the bed and gasp his name like it’s the only thing that will save you.

“You’re beautiful when you come,” he breathes. “Absolutely stunning.”

He waits until you catch your breath before he kisses you again, slow and sensual. His hips are still rocking in that beautifully slow rhythm and you don’t know how it can still feel so good.

He keeps moving against you, his touch and his low murmurs of praise invoking a symphony of sensations. He presses deeper and your body sings with every thrust, your muscles tensing and tightening around him like you never want him to leave. Your climax swells again and you come with a whimper, your whole body shaking as he fucks you through it.

You want him to come, want to hear the sounds he makes and feel his sweet, hot release burning inside of you.

“I want you to come for me,” you breathe.

He grins at you. “Oh, I will, but not yet. You’re not done yet.”

You whimper. “Loki—”

“Two more, my love, two more and then I’ll come for you.”

Somehow, you give him three. By the second one, he’s panting and his words have become rough, his voice a growl as he utters some of the filthiest praise you’ve ever heard. The third builds quickly after that and you know instinctively that you’re going to take him over the edge with you this time.

You fight to keep your eyes open against the tidal wave of pleasure blooming again in your hips. You need to see him come undone.

As in everything else he does, he’s unfairly beautiful—he throws his head back, letting out a low groan that you can feel all the way to the tips of your toes. His cheeks are flushed, a few ink dark curls plastered to the light sheen of sweat on his forehead. You can feel him emptying himself inside you, his release hot and hard won.

It seems to last a long time and it’s another minute before his hips slow to a halt. He kisses you, so soft and sweet it would almost seem chaste were it not for the fact that his cock is still throbbing inside of you.

After a moment, he slowly eases out of you, rolling over onto his back, his arm snaking around your waist and pulling you to him like he can’t bear to be parted from you even for a moment.

You curl up against his side, your legs tangling with his. He takes your hand, lacing his fingers with yours before resting your clasped hands on his heart.

You could fall in love like this, you think sleepily to yourself.

You don’t know it then, but you’re right.

*

Time moves differently at the TVA, but a couple years later, there’s a ring in a box on your desk.

Loki likes a spectacle and you’d daydreamed about a traditional wedding, but when you talk it over, you both agree that you want to do something different, something quiet, something just for the two of you.

“I do think we should tell Mobius beforehand,” you say to Loki.

“Isn’t the point of eloping that no one knows until after it’s done?” says Loki.

“Yes, but I feel like we could make one exception,” you say. “If we’d done a full wedding, I would have asked him to give me away.”

Loki’s gaze softens a bit then and he pulls you close. “All right. But we only tell him right before we leave. The man can’t keep a secret.”

But Mobius doesn’t seem terribly surprised when you tell him—in fact, he seems far more concerned about your wedding gift.

“I didn’t have a chance to wrap it yet,” he says. He’s retrieved a large picture frame that had been propped against his desk, though he keeps it turned away from you. “So…this also requires a bit of an overdue confession for context.”

You raise your eyebrows. “A confession?”

“A confession,” says Mobius.

“Will I be angry about this?” asks Loki at the same time you say, “Is this like a go to jail confession or a misdemeanor confession?”

Mobius gives a good natured chuckle, shaking his head slightly. “God, the two of you. Always so dramatic. No wonder you ended up together.” He takes what feels like an unnecessarily long drink from the coffee mug on his desk. “It’s not bad, I promise.” Another sip of coffee. 

Loki sighs. “He always does this,” he says to you. “Have you noticed? Whenever he has something that you want to know, he stalls and drags it out just to torment you.”

“Okay,” you say, “but you jumping in to bicker with him probably doesn’t help.”

“I’m not bickering,” says Loki. “I’m simply pointing out that he’s stalling—”

“What was it you were saying, Mobius?” you say brightly, nudging Loki with your elbow.

Mobius’ eyes twinkle. “See,” he says to Loki, “I always liked her. It’s a good match.”

You don’t have to look at Loki to know he’s rolling his eyes, though he also makes a point of surreptitiously pinching your ass, a detail you hope Mobius doesn’t notice.

“Anyway,” says Mobius, taking a deep breath, “it was pretty clear to me from the start that you liked each other. And you also seemed absolutely determined to get in your own way.” He points to Loki. “Especially you with your whole stilted Asgardian prince thing.”

Loki frowns. “What are you talking about?”

Mobius sighs. “Anytime you like someone, it’s like your brain gets a factory reset and you get all overly polite and courtly.”

Loki scoffs. “I don’t do that at all.”

“You do. It’s deeply weird. You’re like a mannerly robot.”

Loki turns to you. “Darling, tell him he’s being absurd.”

You reach over and squeeze his hand. “You did call me ‘my lady’ a couple of times in the early days.”

Loki sighs and looks back at Mobius. “What was your point in mentioning this?”

“Well,” says Mobius, “you seemed pretty determined to get in your own way, so nothing was happening. And eventually I got sick of all of the pining, so I decided to take matters into my own hands.”

“What do you mean?”

Mobius pauses, a hint of a smile pulling at the corners of his mouth. “There wasn’t a breakthrough with Berlitz that weekend. What there was was a surplus in the overtime budget and a high priority indexing project for Archives.”

Your lips part as your brain slowly puts the pieces together. Mobius’ eyes twinkle.

“Wait,” you say, “you lied to us?”

“I did not lie,” says Mobius, his demeanor suddenly becoming very serious. “That would have been wrong.” He nods at Loki. “Also, it would’ve tipped him off and that would have ruined the whole thing. I simply failed to mention that the cart of files that I gave you needed to be sorted for indexing for the Archives department and I peppered in a couple of unrelated things about Berlitz.”

“But the office was empty that weekend,” says Loki.

Mobius snaps his fingers. “Right. I did make some adjustments to the schedule that weekend.”

“And the disturbance that prevented her from returning home on Saturday night?”

Mobius spreads his hands wide and grins. “All me, buddy. Paid G-21 five hundred bucks for that one.”

Loki pauses for a moment and then looks at you. “I don’t think I can be mad about this. I’m genuinely impressed.”

“I mean, I can’t argue with the results, but Jesus, Mobius, you could’ve just set us up on a blind date,” you say.

“Ah, but that’s not as fun,” Mobius says. “Plus, it wouldn’t have made for as good a wedding gift.” He turns the frame around and hands it to you both.

It’s both your timecards from that pay period, neatly framed side by side. Your eyes well with tears and Mobius smiles.

“Honestly, I’m just relieved it’s not a jet ski,” says Loki.

“He's deflecting,” you say to Mobius in an exaggerated whisper.

“I know,” he whispers back.

But you can’t help but notice that Loki’s eyes are brighter than normal.

“Okay, now get out of here,” says Mobius. “You’ve got a wedding to get to.”

Twenty minutes later, you’re wearing a simple white dress and standing with Loki in front of a time door, your hand clasped in his.

“Technically, we don’t have a supervisor’s approval for this,” you say with a wry smile.

He looks at you, eyes dancing with mirth. “I had Mobius sign off on the paperwork while you were getting ready.”

Your heart swells and your smile is so wide that you feel like your face might split in two. “Then hurry up and marry me, Laufeyson.”

He grins and tugs you through the time door.

OBSESSED

slumber party ( regulus black + reader )

summary: regulus black ends up crashing the slumber party and needless to say, he has other plans for you.

warnings: minors, for the love of all that is good please do not interact: slight innocence kink!, some somnophilia, noncon elements, overall dark content, perverted regulus black, oblivious friends.

word count: 1,515

"regulus! you need to be quiet before my parents hear." pandora scolded him through gritted teeth. the two of you were grabbing onto his arms to pull him up to your window after he had so valiantly made the climb up from the ground. pandora's parents were long asleep by now and were under the impression that you, her, and dorcas were all having a slumber party. an innocent slumber party between the girls. that was, of course, until regulus sent owl after owl begging to come over.

regulus flopped onto the bedroom floor with a thud, using the palm of his hands to pull himself up and the rest of himself through the window. "hey! you try climbing that vine-" regulus objected as pandora closed the window.

"what? crouch and rosier too busy for you?" dorcas laughed, causing a giggle to escape not only your lips but pandora's as well.

"not sure. didn't even ask." regulus announced, he moved over to the edge of pandora's blue bed and sat down beside you. one of his arms went to wrap around your shoulder. it was friendly, and yet, his arm pulled you in close. his fingertips grazed the bare skin of your thigh before resting his arm behind you. his side was touching yours but he didn't even do as much as look at you. "i would much rather be here with you girls to be honest." regulus confessed, his green eyes finally looking down to meet your own. he only caught your eyes for a moment, maybe two, before he looked back to the group of girls.

"yeah, sure. whatever you say, reggie." you quipped lightly, a smile tearing at the corners of your mouth. regulus turned back to you, grey eyes narrowing as you let out a small giggle.

"i'm being serious!" regulus exclaimed, putting his hands up playfully. pandora's eyes narrowing on him. "please, continue what you were doing. i would love to participate." he urged to them.

"no way! y/n was talking about boys-" dorcas was quick to throw you under the bus, chuckling a bit as she did so. you face went pink and your legs were soon brought up to your chest.

"no i wasn't!" you yelped in a failed attempt to defend yourself and get your friends to shut their fucking mouths'.

"okay fine she was talking about a boy-" pandora chimed in you grabbed a near by stuffy on her bed and threw it at her head. the blonde dodged only to snicker.

"a boy?" regulus questioned, raising one of his slender eyebrows. "what's this boys name?" regulus question, he was seething with obvious jealousy and you were sulking in embarrassment.

"there's no boy- can we please just talk about something else?" you were practically begging your friends at this point. the sides of your face were turning practically as pink as your pajamas. regulus's eyes did not move from you, his dark wisps of hair falling in his face practically begging you for an answer with his eyes.

"fine, fine. we were going to make hex bags. you can help." pandora insisted to him before moving to the side of the room to grab supplies. your face was still pink from the embarrassment, knowing before regulus you were talking about him. more or less, gushing over those dark eyes before he game scaling the side of pandora's house.

the four of you had spent many of hours of the night eating pumpkin cakes and making hex bags. regulus was by your side the entire time. his arm would sometimes slip behind you, his breath would brush against the bare skin of your shoulders or the back of your neck. regulus couldn't seem to keep his eyes off you in your little sleep set the entire night. this was perhaps the first time he had seen you in something so revealing before. regulus would sometimes allow his fingers to dance gently across the skin of your thighs as he reached for something, just to get a feeling of your soft skin. it was rare he was able to find access to your thighs without being obvious he was doing so, especially with them being exposed as they were tonight.

when the late hours of the night passed there was an agreeance to get some rest. the sun had set long ago and regulus found you yawning every now again in conversation. pandora and dorcas were sleeping on her twin bed, bundled in their own blankets with their head towards the others feet. you and regulus were sleeping on the floor, however, covered in blankets and pillows regulus was so close to you. he would watch as you welcomed slumber quickly, snoozing off innocently.

he would wait though, until an hour passed. making sure everyone had been deep in their own sleep. in an ideal situation pandora and dorcas wouldn't be here, but the opportunity to get close to you presented itself and regulus couldn't refuse. especially now, so close he could touch you. the slytherin boy slid himself closer to you slightly. your bodies nearly touching as regulus slid his hand into the waist band of his pants. he could feel himself growing tender just by the sent of your hair. regulus breathed your sent in again as you slept soundly. with a hand wrapped around the base of his cock regulus began to feverishly pump himself in his own pants.

the black haired boy knew he would be thinking about you in these little pink shorts for weeks to come. that the very curvature of your ass was enough to take him, but the fact he could see your tender nipples poking through the silk of the top? that was enough to milk regulus dry. he had remembered the first time he was able to get a look up your skirt. when he had dropped a pencil by accident and gotten a single glance at your clothed cunt through your plush thighs. he thought of it each night, wishing he could live under your skirt. regulus let out a little grunt it was soft and quiet not enough to wake anyone but enough for him to scold himself. regulus knew he should just look at you, watch your breathing as your tits rose and fall, look at the bit of your ass that was falling from your little shorts. but temptation was getting the best of him. he figured, he could touch you, only if he had been gentle about it. not to wake you. even in his own lustful state he understood the gravity of what he was doing but he couldn't seem to help himself. not when he lusted for you day and night.

regulus allowed his nimble finger tips to dance across the skin of your stomach reaching under the silk of your shirt. carefully his finger tips traveled over your perky nipples. he had to bite his own lip as he throbbed in his pants and into his own hand, which was no pumping harder then before. regulus's eyes moved in the dark to make sure you were still asleep, your hadn't even twitched. regulus soon allowed his fingers move to the waist band of your little sleep shorts. he knew he shouldn't, but you were out cold and despite his better judgement he couldn't resist himself.

regulus allowed his fingers to slide down the waist band of your shorts grunting slightly as the tips of his fingers met your warm cunt. you weren't even wearing any underwear. not so innocent after all, regulus thought to himself. the tip of his fingers made their way to your warm folds, his hand pumping faster as he realized you were already wet. "fuck," regulus grumbled beneath his own breath. his fingers pushed past your folds and made their way quickly to your clit, rubbing little circles into your clit. regulus could feel himself at the brink of his own orgasm, as he could feel the wetness of your cunt slick around his fingers, his eyes watching as your face contorted in your sleep to the feeling of his fingers, and his own lust only growing.

regulus didn't even realize how fast he begun to move his fingers around your clit, as he did so at the pace of his own fist around his cock. chasing his own high. you were moaning in your sleepy, quiet little moans, that only made regulus more feverish. regulus would reach his own orgasm, cumming in his own pants as he removed his fingers from within you and brought them to his lips. you tasted sweet. regulus had decided then and there he would put his face in that cunt of yours if it was the very last thing he ever did.

regulus was just about to turn over and finally get some rest now that he was covered in his own cum, when he heard a voice, your voice. it was no more then a mumble but you were speaking to him. "reggie, why did you stop?"

authors note: i hope you enjoyed, if you enjoyed this little fic please consider commenting or reblogging! i've just returned to tumblr and i appreciate all the support that has been offered.