☻ I’m new to this whole fanfic writing biz
☻ obsessed with Tangerine and Azriel from ACOTAR rn
☻ major sub-behavior
☻ here to write for the people and to dissociate
ALSO MIGHT START POSTING ART 🖼️
-------------------------------------------
please to not plagiarize or rewrite my work your own page or any other platform. not because I think its good, but because thats not cool man.
-------------------------------------------
Requests
I probably will fully take requests soon once I get a good amount of work up. I can only write mainly !female! reader.
Right now if you want to request things for any of the characters below, I’m always open to ideas ☺
✶ Tangerine / Bullet Train ( currently writing )
✶ Geralt of Rivia / The Witcher
✶ Matt freaking Murdok / Daredevil
✶ Carmen Berzzato / The Bear
✶ Azriel / ACOTAR ( i'm still on the third book lmao )
✶ more to come… ( & some ladies )
-------------------------------------------
Master List
this list is made up of my minimal work and then the work of others that I enjoyed.
bucky barnes x fem!reader | LIMERENCE SERIES PART 02
ustulation. a burning lust
WORD COUNT. 7042
SUMMARY. it was unplanned, for bucky to sleep beside you last night. but when he wakes from a nightmare, he finds himself relieved; almost thankful to not have to go through the aftermath of a night terror alone. and over the course of your comforting, something follows that was even less planned. #poundtown
WARNINGS. 18+ readers only! minimal plot, almost all porn, comfort (bucky has a nightmare) so much want that it's actually crazy, morning breath doesn't exist here, tonnes of kissing, loads of eye contact (what freaks) emotional vulnerability, hands hands hands, pussy play (kinda) finger licking, protected pinv, missionary (my love) to cradling to cradling plus, then back to missionary, general filth. MDNI
NOTE. it's at the end bc it's sorta long
PART 01 | SERIES MASTERLIST
It was nearing four in the morning, yet you were almost completely awake. If you were to guess, you had been for the last ten minutes. And while the dark blue hue from the outside casting around the room was a familiar sight, to you, in your own room, there was someone beside you that was not so. Your friend, who you were curled up into — tucked into the side of.
This position you find yourself in was purely accidental, the work being done during your hours of slumber, Bucky's too. Your head rests atop his bicep, nose nuzzled into the edge of his chest, too afraid to move in case you were to wake him. It's how you woke up, and now, how you continue to lay: the warmth of his body and sound of his breathing enough to satiate your last ten minutes of semi-sleepy nothingness.
It was supposed to feel uncomfortable, though you couldn't find it within yourself to bask in such feelings. While it was foreign, to be this close to Bucky, it still somehow felt natural, like there was nothing weird about it; nothing odd about cuddling your friend in his bed. But after last night, it felt like you'd both stepped over that line of what was considered platonic, like it had unknowingly developed into something more.
You study him for a moment, eyes cast up as they observe him. His features so relaxed and dulcet that you struggle to think of a time when you've seen him this at peace. And you can't, you can't recall a time. Though it's short lived and you begin to see his eyes scrunch and flutter. You jinxed it, you thought. His breathing beside you increases in both pitch and volume, his murmurs a sound of growing distress; like he was trapped within a nightmare maybe.
You've never dealt with him like this before, what do you do? Leave him alone? Wake him?
You knew it wasn't particularly safe to wake a person in a nightmare, much less a night terror, but you couldn't do nothing. He looked afraid. With caution so as not to abruptly wake him, you untangle yourself from his side embrace, peeling away from the arm that encompasses you. But it has the opposite effect. Almost like your withdraw of contact jolts him awake, inadvertently giving you quite the fright also.
He sits up fully and suddenly, eyes wild as they flicker around his room. It's almost like he's trying to find his bearings and understand his environment. The place belongs to him though, he shouldn't have to do that. But it's then he remembers where he is, the feel of your body aiding the reminder of where he is.
"You okay?" you whisper, voice spiking with alert as you watch over him.
He swallows thickly and gives you a sharp nod, though it was fairly deceptive. It didn't feel genuine. His eyes close as he exhales, the noise jagged and uneven as he runs a hand down his face. You reach for him as you sit up, placing your hand over his fleshed arm to offer some reassurance.
"Sorry," he mutters, head shaking faintly.
You sit beside him and twist, legs crossed and body now sideways as you face him head on — vigilant gaze focused on him. Ever so slowly, his head turns inwards, vacant eyes meeting yours as they grow from their fixed, shocked state and into something far more gentle. His brows curl up ever so slightly in the centre, his expression growing sort of pliable when he realises he doesn't have to go through the aftermath of a nightmare alone. He looks almost relieved.
"Don't be sorry," you brush down his arm and you reach for his hand. You didn't have to think about it, you just did it. Like it was an instinct you didn't know you had, to reach for his hand.
Bucky glances down to your hand and back up to your face. You didn't feel the urge to rip it away, nor did you feel the need to pretend it was an accident — you let it sit there, fingers entwined with his as you try you best to provide him something grounding. And in turn, he studies you, like you him. You notice his pupils dilate a flicker, though it's hard to make out; the room is relatively dark. It could just be the light, or lack thereof.
It's quiet for a minute or two, like there's no need to say anything; the contact of skin and sparing, fleeting moments of eye contact enough to convey what you each wanted to say, only wordlessly. But it's when you spot his focus cast down to your mouth do you realise that he was trying to convey something similar to you — his expression mirroring the one you've unknowingly been giving him. As if it was a signal you had inadvertently been giving.
He itches in slowly, lips almost lingering as he meets yours, a way half hesitant, half certain. Quite like he wasn't all that sure of himself. But there was no reason for him to feel that way, not when you lean into the kiss, and especially not when you melt into it as immediately as you do. It's like your mouth jells with his, lips melting together as you return the kiss he was trying to pursue.
Your head follows his, moving with him as he itches back; like he was trying to be gentlemanly and cut the kiss short, only you wanted no part of that. It was almost like that wasn't enough for you, that little peck, so you chase it, keeping your lips fused to his as he initiates his pull away.
Your eager, he notices, and it fuels him: that sudden and apparent need you display. It makes it easier to show what he wants as all he has to do is return what you give. He slips his fleshed hand out from yours and weaves it up to the side of your neck, palm laid against it and thumb pressed under your jaw as he uses his hold to direct you; bring you in so as to deepen the kiss. Like he's keen to keep you in place now that he knows you feel a way close to how he does.
It was so simple, the touch to your neck, but it evoked a feeling far greater within you. You respond to it, to him, with an airy breath, the noise muffling into his mouth the next moment his lips encapsulate yours. You do it again, not on purpose, but in a way purely coincidental, like you had no control over the hums that roll from your throat and down the back of his. It was almost desperate, sound unintentionally egging him on — giving him further confirmation that you were into it just as much as him.
Without so much as breaking the kiss, he shifts his weight and turns further inwards; lower half twisting and body pointing your way so he can get his hands on you easily — either one settling somewhere between your hips and waist. It's noted, the urgently firm grip he has on you, and it's almost like it's an instruction, a silent direction.
Reading between the lines, you untuck your legs and lift yourself, pushing upwards until you're standing on your knees. You momentarily break from the kiss as you begin to situate yourself on his thighs, movement slow, sort of like you're crawling on top of him. His neck is ever so slightly craned back, keen eyes focused on you with your slight height advantage above. Peering down to him, you meet his eyes and hold it, focusing on him as you lower down onto his lap — wistful gaze glued to his.
There's no rush to rejoin lips in this moment. It's like you're both appreciating the spell of glory from kiss before: savouring the uneven breaths you each chase to catch and the heavy lidded expression you both share. His fingers paw at your waist for a moment before the feel of him disappears on either side of you. Though it's not long-lived, not when you feel him slip under your tee and fuse with your skin beneath.
Your lips part so subtly that it could be missed. But that doesn't happen, not with Bucky. It was glaringly obvious to him and you notice just how much, when his eyes drop from yours and to your lips. Though they only observe for so long before they shoot right back up, meeting your gaze, sort of like he missed it. And it's then you see his pupils dilate, it wasn't as deceptive as the one you thought you saw earlier on. This time it was real, black inners of his eyes swallowing the surrounding shades of blue you soon found yourself to involuntarily seek.
You rush back to his lips in a way similar to him, as if you were both itching to pick up from where you left off — lips opening as you both make urgent effort to deepen the kiss, to continue from your last stopping point. Reaching for his neck, you place your palms on either side, thumbs over his ears as your fingers graze into his hair, nails skimming his scalp in a way that makes him melt into you that much more. He hums, the dulcet sound pleased and almost, very bizarrely, sort of whiny.
His hands spread out wide across the lower of your back, fingers hooking onto your skin as he paws at you, desperation clear in the way he tugs you in. Quite like he's eager to feel as much of you as possible, enthralled by the foreign feel of his skin on yours. The placement of his hands glide up, settling in the middle of your back, around the area of where your bra clasp should be. And the thought that nix covers you but his ratty old top sends his mind into a tizzy. Beneath his clothes you wear, is nothing. Nothing separating your skin from the t-shirt that belongs to him.
And when you subconsciously wind yourself into him, your chest pushes up against the top of his; those bare nipples of yours somehow grazing him through his own top. In that very moment, he feels his desperate claw for control and composure slip away — you're making it so much harder for him to behave like a gentleman.
He retracts his hands from the skin of your back and lowers them, fingers itching under the hem of your top as he grabs a hold of it, lifting it upwards in the following motion. But you pull away slightly, breaking the kiss like you were irresolute of the idea. He stills, immediately picking up on the way you stiffen — noticing how your shoulders tense.
You lock eyes with his, gaze down and on him from your elevated position. He's patient, you notice, eyes filled with answers while yours are succumb with questions. They flicker across your face — gentle, wanting eyes sort of locked in an appreciative trance. He's not prying, he's not pressuring; simply checking, trying to portray a dozen words with just a look.
You can see what he fails to speak verbally.
It had been a confusing seven hours, especially being so fresh out of a break up, that initially the idea of undressing in front of someone new —a friend— scared you. But seeing the way he stopped, you knew he was someone deserving of it, of seeing you like that. It felt like a low bar to have set for yourself, but it was more that that. It was a feeling. And so you give him a little nod, the motion so subtle it could've been missed. But it's noted — noted because he sees you, not because all he needs is the slightest confirmation to pursue something he wants.
He's slow and cautious as he lifts it, giving you enough time to back out or change your mind, but you never do, there's no reason for you to. That brief, fearful feeling is replaced with something else: certitude. Bucky resumes the tugging of your tee, dragging it up your back steadily until the fabric bunches in his grasp, and when reaches just beneath your armpits, you lift your arms — reaching upwards as he pulls it from you, discarding it aside.
His gaze stays on yours for a moment, adams apple bobbing as he swallows thickly, the act another attempt to compose himself. It's slow and controlled, his glance down. He takes his time, eyes travelling down your exposed neck and lingering around your collarbones until he eventually drifts down. Trickling down to your chest; gaze falling to where your tits sit.
You see the response in his face, his expression silently speaking the contents of his mind. It's gentle, like the slight centre curling of his brows. It's sort of appreciating, the way he looks across your chest; timely glances between either tit like he was trying to savour it. His eyes flicker up to yours for a very brief moment until they gradually flutter shut.
Placing his face between your breasts, he plants a soft kiss to the middle, kiss featherlight and tingle-inducing as he sears it to your goose-bumped skin. Your head tilts back slightly as a breathy sigh slips past your lips, the sound growing in pitch when he repeats the act. Only it wasn't in the same place as before, now it was marginally off to the side — to the edge of one of your tits. Your chest shudders against him and a little splutter-like noise escapes you. And it's then you put your fingers back in his hair, grip on the back of his head firming as you pull him in closer, the action an instinct for repetition.
His sprawled out hands on the middle of your back lower as he adjusts himself, holding you in place and to him as he repositions you both; guiding you down onto the bed. It's seamless, the little transition, body glued to his as you each lay diagonally across the mattress. Now, he's above you, weight anchored on forearms beside you with his lower half slot between your thighs — legs of your own encompassing him.
Lowering just a smidgen, he places a kiss to your lips, and another and another, the short string of kisses elongating with each one he sears. He plants another, but not to your lips this time, instead just below and to your chin. The pepper-like kisses cascade over it and resume in a patch off-centre from your throat, a cluster of white hot warmth forming beneath his lips.
He pulls back from your throat and brings his metal hand up and to your face just a few short inches from his. He's noticeably careful as he cups the side of your head, his hold on you dear and sincere as his thumb scatters across the part of your cheek where he can reach. It's timely, the back and forth motion. Movement unrushed and sort of appreciating; quite like that of his gaze as he scans yours below. Inspecting you like he had no control of where his sight lands.
Peeling himself from you, you halt him for a moment when he sees you smile. You often have that unknowing effect on him when you grace him with such thing.
He loves it, and can't help but drop back in to kiss you again and again; doing so until he has to physically force himself from you. He was afraid that if he were to continue, he may never stop. He shakes his head at you as a soft, easy smile lines his own lips — the little act like a playful reprimand.
You're turning him to mush. And he's allowing it.
Bucky peels away from you and situates himself on his knees between your thighs, sitting in place for a moment as his heavy eyes rake over your exposed chest below. He then reaches over his shoulders to grab a bunch-full of his tee, fingers locking on the fabric as he pulls it over his head — yanking it off to rest atop yours at his side.
Your eyes drift over his bare upper body, lifted gaze surveying the sight of his sculpted torso. You've seen it once, maybe twice in accidental passing, but never have you see it up so close. His eyes sort of divert when he notices your gaze travel to his upper left arm, the scarred joining of metal and flesh sure to give you a fright. And he was waiting for it, anticipating an upturned nose or a grimace, but that never happens. You're not that kind of person, hence why he just bared his greatest pain to you. Yet the doubt lingers at the back of his mind.
Though it soon subsides when he sees you sit up.
It fascinates you, the mechanics of it all and you can't help but reach for it. You're hesitant of course, tentative in case it were to deter him — so you keep your eyes on his, meeting his gaze as you place your right middle finger over the fusion of raised skin. The tip cautiously traces it and your eyes falter from his eyeline, gaze dropping to the observational-like trance you have on his shoulder. You've never seen it as clearly as you are now.
He remains focused on you, chest sort of shuddering with the influx of air that flows through it. Each one increasing in pitch and depth, like every passing exhalation is a representation of his slipping control. Bucky picks up your hand from his shoulder, vibranium fingers momentarily entwining with yours as he brings it to his mouth, lips soft against your palm as further kisses persist.
And with his other hand, he's reaching for yours resting over his thigh. Scooping it up, he grabs a gentle hold of you and guides it upwards, directing you down the front of his pyjama pants. With his hand still encompassed around yours, he nudges you to his hard-on, chubbed up cock waiting most agonisingly behind his boxers.
"Feel how much I want you," he husks, voice low and uneven. The feel of your hand over his covered cock having such an effect on him.
You involuntarily clamp down on the upper middle squish of your bottom lip, top teeth keeping a little bit of it in place as your chest heaves, air escaping forcibly through your nose. The feel of him is solid, cock thick as you brush against it through his briefs. Your eyes grow heavy with lust as you watch him adjust your hand in his —the one to his face— lips wrapping around each fingertip as he presses kisses into every single one. Movement unrushed, like he has all the time in the world.
And with the hand you have down the front of his pants, you pull it out, keeping your hold on him as you guide him over — directing him to the waistband of your pyjamas. You notice his brows pull down as a darkish hue spreads in his eyes, almost like he's grown entranced; captivated on you entirely.
You slip his hand down the front, quite similar to how he did, only with him, you direct him behind your underwear and to your cunt. His head tilts to the side, like it's grown too weighty to hold and he sighs, the sound ragged. Sort of gruff, like a groan. His middle fleshed finger extends downwards and dips between your wet folds, the act making you twitch and flutter against him.
"That's how much I want you," you repeat after him from before. Voice airy, just short of a whisper.
With his hand still down the front of your pyjamas, he urges you backwards, crawling atop as if to lay you down; resuming the position from before, just now with his hand tucked between your cunt and underwear. You adjust your hold in his hand and move upwards, fingers wrapping around the meat of his wrist as if to guide him. Wordlessly telling him what you wanted.
He swallows thickly, eyes briefly flickering across yours below as he lowers down to you, roughly capturing your lips again. Dogtags cold and flat against the centre of your clavicle. Your lips lock and his tongue slips between, the tip sort of circling yours. Not the slight bit invasive, more like it was an act of curiosity. And what had otherwise been quite contained, relatively clean kisses —well, not exactly— had now devolved into something not so. Teeth knocking clumsily. Sloppy and desperate.
You murmur against him, the sound like a moan when you feel his two middle fingers swirl around your entrance, the tips of each circling the wetness that resides there. But he doesn't dare dip them in, he waits. Potentially thinking rather sadistically about it, about how he wants the first thing inside you to be his dick. He wanted to know how you'd feel stretched and wrapped around his cock and his cock alone.
Bucky continues tracing the dip of your cunt, skirting through your arousal like it came in abundance. He had that effect on you, and now he's finally seeing the evidence.
Though there's only so much he can endure, especially with the way you're breathing into him and certainly not with the way your hips chase after his touch with those little shuddery rolls and winds. He simply cannot take it.
He drags his finger tips up through your cunt and pulls his hand out from behind your underwear as the kissing ceases. He brings his hand between you, holding it in the middle of either of your faces, letting it linger — almost like it was a test, an experiment. He just wanted to see what you would do.
To you, and to your sickened, slightly perverted mind, there was only one thing you could do. Only one thing you were sure made any sense to you at all: suck them. You lift yourself upwards slightly and wrap your lips around the ends of his two middle fingers, sucking off the arousal around his fingertips. Your mouthed hold on him loosens and the weight of his cleaned, wet fingers rests on the flat of your tongue — extended muscle laid so as to support them proudly. Like you were showing off the work of your mouth, kind of like one does with a cherry stem.
A sort of smile grows as he watches it play out, eyes studying your parted lips around his fingers while yours observe his: taking note of the glimmer of what you suspect to be pride, possibly… maybe. He audibly grins, a low, amused noise reverberating at the back of his throat as he retracts his fingers from your mouth, eyes cast down as he watches you give the tips a short string of finalising kisses.
He settles it to the side of your face, wet fingers skimming past your ear — grip settling on your head, like it was to keep you in place while still somehow direct you in to meet his lips. He's far more controlled this time, much more composed as he lowers his mouth down to yours. The taste of you from your tongue is almost immediate and he can't help but murmur a pleased groan into you. Sort of like all he needed to sustain himself was that little sample. It's the kind of thing an addict says after a bump. And he knew that was silly, even more drastic to think, especially never having tasted you before.
But he was trying to be realistic, make use of what he presumes to be limited time. Bucky's a man of endurance, but with the rate you've both been going, combined with these grossly fervid feelings he has for you, he finds himself struggling to be the object of stamina he was designed for.
The lust spreads within you from the inside out, starting in the pit of your stomach and blooming outwards; evidence for your internal struggle displayed with a whine and hasty, sudden, shudder-like roll of your hips. Cunt subconsciously grinding against him. The feel of his cock is still very apparent, even through the few layers of fabric you've been eager to shimmy yourself out of.
You place your hands either side of his neck and pull back, creating a bit of distance so you can speak.
"Do you have anything?" you question sort of ruefully, like you didn't want to ask incase it were to cut this fantasy short. You have this sort of regretful tinge in your eyes.
He hesitantly nods, afraid that you may think he's planned this, but really he just likes to be prepared. This was never actually supposed to happen; this or last night, or this morning really. None of it was planned.
Your eyes light up and you give him a quick smile. "Go get it."
The priorly ambivalent expression melts on his face when he hears your voice, it didn't seem that you thought that way at all. And for once, he was glad to be alone in a thought. He lifts himself off you, hands beside your head as he pushes away from you. He scooches to the edge of the mattress and stands up, making his way over to his dresser in the corner. He rummages around the top drawer for a moment, seemingly searching for the small cardboard box amongst his underwear.
And while he was searching his drawers, you adjust yourself within his bed, getting under the covers as you now lay lengthwise, right down the middle. Like you were anticipating it, you shimmy yourself out of both your pyjamas and your underwear, and kick them out from under the sheets; waiting for him to rejoin you again.
He turns to face you from across the room, a metallic black wrapper held between his first two fingers — like he was displaying it, showcasing it. As if he was relieved to have found it. He makes his way back to you and sits at the edge of the mattress. Though with his back to you, you can't see him, only hear him, hear it: hear the noise of raggedly controlled breathing, hear the tear in the condom wrapper, hear the slight rubbery sound followed by a little snap-like click.
His pyjamas fall to the hardwood floor. The sound is slight, but you hear it. And it's then you see him twist to face you, body turning to you as he slips himself under the covers — almost crawling over you from underneath the covers. Joining you once again, his eyes dance over you below, gaze casting across that chest of yours he's yet to seriously appreciate. But when his sight flickers up to your face, he sees something far more tempting: a softened, easy smile. One that inexplicably told him that you felt comfortable, safe even.
To have someone feel safe around him was the biggest feat of all. He liked that about you —rather he loved that about you— he loved that you've never once see him as the monster he believes himself to be.
Bucky situates himself above you, one hand sprawled beside you for balance while the other drops to his cock, grip enveloping the solid chub-on. He keeps his focus on you as he clumsily swirls the head of his dick around your entrance, collecting your arousal as lube for his rubberised cock.
It's heavy against you, you notice. The anticipation of him making you clamp around nothing. And it's noted, the way your quivering pussy kisses and pecks at his tip, it's hard not to. He eases himself inside you, directing his cock into you nice and slow; nothing hasty about it. Just pure patience — gently easing in as soft airy breaths roll from either of your mouths. A sort of lightness fills your eyes as he in turn fills you, a look of something he's never quite seen in the eyes of another. Love.
It was love. Your eyes full of it. Your cunt full of him.
Bucky keeps himself pressed in place, cock throbbing inside you. You bring your hands to his face, action quick and abrupt. You hold his head within your hands, grip firm and desperate as if to keep him in place. His forehead drops to yours, flesh fusing with yours like he was trying to read you — subconsciously absorb your thoughts and feelings. His eyes peer down to yours, though yours can barely focus on him; gaze lidded and fluttered by the way he fills you so perfectly.
He moves carefully within you, the steady, repeated action controlled and concise as he pushes in just as much as he retracts. Like there was an effort to keep as much of himself buried inside you at any one time.
Your noses skim with the closeness, the tips squishing together as he reaches just shy of your lips. His mouth ghosts yours, lingering a few short centimetres from you as he swallows your jittery breaths — swallowing your ragged, uneven attempts of catching air.
His winds into you grow, though it's slight. Just enough repetitions ensuing for it to be considered a pattern, but not nearly enough for it to be structured. Even with him only being inside you for these few short minutes, you can feel the difference compared to what you're used to — to what you've been getting over the last couple months. It wasn't a thought that persisted, rather floated around at the back of your mind; the notion that this is how it was meant to be. That this is how it was supposed to feel.
The back of your head tips into the mattress behind when you feel him reach just that bit deeper inside you. Neck lengthening, elongated and exposed for him. He moves with the subconscious repositioning; his mouth hovers above your chin as he nibbles at it, teeth sort of clamping on it — keeping you exactly where you are.
And from there, his mouth drifts over it and down the length of your throat. Motion unrushed as he peppers light, little kisses to your most sensitive parts. It's complementary, the way he dotes on you: mouth and hips attuning, each syncing in their actions. And while his lips move down the front of your neck, his cock behaves in a similar way; the head of him kissing at your insides. Each one grows closer together, repetition unfolding until a loose, steady pattern of thrusts form.
With the hands you have on the sides of his head, you adjust them, palms slipping across his hair and to the back of his head, grip firm and urgent as you pull him into you. You guide his face into the nape of your neck like it was an involuntary response, one you had no control over. As if you were seeking comfort, somehow needing him even closer.
He's suffocating you nearly. He's close, so, so close: happy trail of his lower stomach fused with you, warm chest meshing to yours below. Like he's smothering you, crushing you with the weight of himself as if to consume your senses. Bucky's everywhere: hairy balls pushed between your wet inner thighs, teeth skimming at the sides of your neck, hands pawing your sides. It's all simultaneous, all of it being done in a way that makes you believe him to be a master multi-tasker.
His arm encompasses the back of you, hand spread wide so his fingers can latch onto your skin — grabbing fistfuls of you as he guides you up; lifting your body up and to his as he pushes away from the bed with his other, free hand. His dick remains fused within your walls, cock plugged inside you as he now sits crossed-legged, sitting where your ass was a moment ago.
Now, you're sitting on top of him, your own legs circling around his hips. You're more eye level now than to how you were earlier, faces up close. His hand around the middle of your back lowers and drops to the small of it — his other hand joining the first. They knead around your waist until his grip later settles on your hips, placement like a silent direction as he winds you into him; grinding you on his cock you sit on.
"Good," you force out, word coming out choked between the strained breath you take. Your hands drift from their placement around the back of his head and move to his shoulders — arms enveloping him as you hold yourself close.
"It's good?" he checks, words as soft as he eyes.
You nod against him, forehead grazing his with the quickened needy motion.
"I know," he returns, speaking it like a coo, like it was to soothe.
His hands around your hips slip lower, both metal and fleshed fingers dropping to your ass. He scoops underneath and guides you into his hold, palms flat as he supports the cheeks of your ass within either hand. With his touch no longer there to guide you, you begin to move on your own; hips juttery and inconsistent as you wind over his cock — chasing after the feelings he's not able to direct.
Fingers paw at you, all ten of his fingers kneading at your ass within his lap. And it's then you adjust your own hold; moving one of your clawing hands from the back of his neck and instead, to his face. You cup your hand like a 'C' and bring it to rest over his chin. The grip of your thumb and fingers settles on either side; squishing in the hallows of his cheek as you pull him in. Making him meet your lips again.
Though they don't connect, they merely touch. Mouths open as stuttery, deep exhales fall from either of you.
But you can't stay there for long, it begins to feel a bit too much. You pull yourself away, one arm remaining in place around the back of his neck while the other reaches behind you, hand spreading wide as it settles on the mattress. You're far more exposed now, torso elongated and back arched.
His eyes fall over you with keen observation, gaze landing on your tits. It's a sight, truly. One he doesn't think he may ever move on from, recover from. The placement of his hands follow suit, grip now situating around the small of your back — like it was there to support you, hold you comfortably in such a position. Though you're barely straining, nor are you really holding yourself up; all your weight rests on the grip you have on the back of his neck.
Bucky itches in, unable to stop himself from the temptation. And when he finds himself close enough, he's wrapping his lips around one of your nipples, tongue flat against the underside of your tit as he latches onto you. Entrapping it within in mouth.
A feeling of weakness grows within you and the arm 'supporting you' becomes shaky — the feeling of his lips around your nipple making you struggle for balance. You sort of wobble, the fucking onto his cock ceasing also. Your hips stop with their winding, though Bucky doesn't seem to mind, not when you give him the response that you do.
And it's then you feel him shift, legs uncrossing as he pushes himself forward, subsequently laying you down also. His lips remain in place, as do his cock; body glued with yours like he couldn't let it up. You grow greedy and push yourself against him, lower half of your body chasing the absence of movement inside. He's still there, still plugged inside you, but it's not enough. Your hips wind and grind against him, urging him to give you something, but nope. He's far too focused on the feel of your nipple against his tongue.
You rejoin your hands around either side of his head and pull, guiding him up. Like an effort of redirection, grip firm while somehow careful as you tug him up and away from your tits. He takes the hint, but as he pulls away —allowing you to guide him— he presses kisses up your sternum, trailing them up the length of your throat until he eventually meets your face again.
His hips begin to roll into you again, pace slight and gradual as he builds up to the pattern from before. Bed frame creaking with the increase of movement. They're winds, motion sort of circular as he repeatedly sinks into you. And as if to further keep him there, keep him where you want him, you enwrap your legs around him, ankles crossing loosely under his ass. Hanging onto him essentially, gripping onto the caging of his body over yours.
Your chest pushes outwards slightly as a result, like your body can't help but mould with his; attune with the movement of him. Your tits sandwich with Bucky's, nipples grazing with the motion — like his are with you.
Clawing at the hair at the back of his head, you hold him in place and meet his mouth. They skim, his lips and yours, but they don't yet connect. They linger, mouths open and softly agape while strained and spluttered breaths fall freely.
A bubbly, prickly warmth spreads inside you, blooming outwards from around your lower stomach; the fluttery feeling disperses within you and you feel yourself grow closer. It's teetering inside you and your ragged breathing becomes an outward expression of what's happening in your body. What he's doing to your body.
He nods against you, forehead pressed to yours. Your eyes flutter against him.
"Let go on me," he utters, words of encouragement more of a instruction than anything else.
Like it was all you needed, you do as requested. Your cunt sort of spasms against him, body jittering and chasing his thrusts like you had no control over yourself. Your body lifts and your hips roll, motion instinctive as you fuck yourself down onto the gently firm dicking he's giving you.
He wants —needs— that image of you burned onto some form of physical media so he can play it over and over.
And when you feel yourself begin to even out, your body melts — hands falling from behind his head as you drop them to rest either side of yours. You grow pliable and it's then he slips his hands into yours, weaving his fingers betwixt yours on the mattress. His palms push into yours as he directs his weight, supporting himself on the hands enveloped with yours.
Distance grows between your faces, and you peer up at him. Open eyes wide and trusting as you observe him rock above you, dogtags swinging carefully in front of your face. Your gaze is smitten, pupils bloomed with adoration while you watch his contort with soft agony.
With the way you're looking at him combined with the snug clamped wrapping your cunt has around his cock, he soon finds himself dangling at the abdominal inner cliff like you were a few moments before. He breathes in deep and holds it for a moment, dick throbbing and twitching inside you as the same gust of air comes out in a gravelly splutter. His eyes squeeze shut and his head hangs low, seemingly lost composure — strength inside him lost. And as he fills the inside of his condom with himself, his cum pooling at the excess at the tip, he melts into you. Quite similar to how you did him a couple minutes prior.
Bucky's eyes slowly open to see yours already focused on him, gaze ardent as you observe him from beneath; taking note of the exact moment he let go inside you. His pupils bloom while they flicker across yours, eyes smitten and searching.
His hips involuntarily shudder into you while he begins to retracts himself, cock seemingly with a mind of his own. Bucky eases out of you, dick dragging through your warmth until he pulls out completely; semi-softened cock resting over your public bone. The grip he has on your hands loosens also, pressure residing as he adjusts his weight — supporting himself on one forearm beside you while the other reaches for the side of your face.
He runs his fingers past your ears and his hold settles on the side of your head, palm pressed flat against your cheek. His touch is careful, somehow needy and reassuring as he guides you into him; making you meet his lips for a number of times he's lost track of. It's slow and gentle, the kiss — short lived too.
Peeling himself from you, he repositions and drops his weight onto the space beside you, body limp and mush-like as he lays there. Similar to how you are. He reaches under the covers and tugs off the condom around his cock. He discards it and drops it onto the wrapper on his nightstand.
Other than that little creak in the bed slats and snap of the rubber, it's quiet.
With you, it wasn't the silence of regret, it was that of processing. You couldn't tell what Bucky's was. You didn't know what he was feeling. But that feeling of guilt melts when you feel his body roll beside you and arms reach out for you. His grip settles around your middle as he tugs you into him, pulling your body across the crumpled sheets to meet his.
His arms envelop your body in a secured, almost protective hold, hands settling on you like he didn't want to let it go. His chest is to your back, nose pressed to the back of your neck as his breathing grows relaxed and even. Tired.
"I'll take you out for breakfast later," he starts, sleepy voice like a whisper against your skin. "How's that sound?"
You reach for one of his hands, the one between your tits, and slip your fingers into his; giving it a pulse-like squeeze.
"Sounds good."
⎯ ☆ ⎯
this took me days to edit bc I found it so hard to read?? not bc its smut and I was embarrassed but it felt really complicated and confusing to read??? but I refuse to rewrite it bc it took me so so unbelievably long. im so over it and want it done so I can wash my hands with it lol. so if you're like 'errrm what is this?' just know im aware and I know this isn’t great. im trying not to be so picky about things, so that’s why im posting as is. don't hold it against me, I do have better writing somewhere
@brokeaesthetic request 2:reader gets their wisdom teeth removed and Tangerine takes care of them.
Hi again! Sorry it took forever to get to this one.
p.s: I've said it before and I'll say it again-Im sorry if its bad,I've never had to be sedated or have been loopy because of it,so I'm sorry if it's inaccurate.
Tangerine x reader
Prompt: Fluff
Warnings: mentions of the dentist,reader being sedated heavily implied,mentions of blood,reader crying for a split second
Summary:When you need to go to the dentist,your boyfriend is more than happy to help you.
You sit on your shared bed,knee bouncing anxiously.The pit in your stomach getting worse the closer it gets to the time of your appointment.
Today,you're supposed to be getting your wisdom teeth removed and honestly? You were scared.
What is something went wrong? What if they take out the wrong teeth? What if it hurts? What if-
"You ready,love?" Tangerine says,interrupting your racing mind.
"Hm?" you hum as you look up before his words actually reach your ears. "Oh..Yeah,I'm ready." You say before standing from the bed with a deep sigh.
Tangerine notices your uneasiness but doesnt say anything,not wanting to make it worse.He takes your hand in his,giving it a gentle squeeze as he leads you out of the room.
His gentle squeeze helps to calm your nerves slightly,but not entirely,your heart still beating rapidly against your chest.
_
The car ride to the dentist's office was tense- Well,for you at least.Tangerine was mostly just a bit worried,but understood why you would be so nervous.
You let out a shaky breath as you walk into the office.After telling the nurse at the front desk your information,both you and Tangerine sit in the waiting area,your knee bouncing as you lean back in your seat and cross your arms over your chest.
He notices this and gently places his hand on your knee in hopes of stopping it,giving it a small reassuring squeeze.You look at him and smile slightly,your knee stopping.
But that smile fades quickly when you hear your name being called.
You let out another deep,shaky sigh before standing and walking back with the doctor,leaving your purse and jacket with Tangerine.
_
After a while,a nurse leads you out of the back and over to Tangerine,who you smile lazily at.He stands and smiles back,gently placing his hand on your lower back.
"You alright,darlin'?" He asks after the nurse leaves and you both start to walk towards the exit.
You nod slowly as you hum before speaking softly,your voice groggy and muffled slightly from the gauze. "..mouth hurts.."
Tangerine bites the inside of his cheek to keep himself from laughing,his hand gently rubbing your back.
"Poor darlin'." He says with a feigned pout as he holds open the door for you. "Don't worry,it'll only hurt for a little while."
You nod again,leaning against him slightly as he leads you to the car,your eyes droopy.
Once they're both in the car,you feel something slowly rolling down your cheek and bring your hand up to wipe it away.
You look at your hand and gasp,your eyes widening slightly as they water.
Tangerine hears the gasp as he pulls the car out of the parking lot and glances at you. "What?"
"I'm bleeding." You say in a soft sob,a few tears slowly rolling down your cheeks.
He has to bite his cheek again.He stops the car at a stop sigh and grabs a styrofoam cup from before you appointment holds it up to your mouth. "It's alright,love.." He says softly as he watches you spit the blood out into the cup.
"Open up." He demands softly before gently pulling the gauze from your mouth,dropping it in the cup.He puts the cup in the cupholder before grabbing the extra gauze and putting it in your mouth.
He the takes a paper towel out of the glove compartment and gently wipes the blood off of your face and his hands before tossing it in the cup as well.
"Better?" He asks as he starts to drive again,glancing at you as you nod and sniffle softly.
"Thank you.." you try to say,the gauze making it difficult.
_
You're almost asleep when Tangerine pulls the car into the Dairy Queen Drive-thru and buys you both a milkshake.He wakes you up by gently shaking your shoulder,his lips curled up slightly as he hands you the cup.
"Thanks.." you try to say again as you take the cup and slowly eat a spoonful of the icecream,the coolness helping to soothe the pain in your mouth.
He places his hand on your shoulder,giving it a gentle squeeze before placing it back on the wheel,driving once again.
Tangerine helps you out of the car once its parked in front of your house,his arm securely wrapped around your waist to keep you from falling as he holds your purse and milkshake in the other.
Once your both inside,he lets go of you so you can sit on the couch and sits down your purse and milkshake down on the coffee table.
"Gauze.." you say as you point at your mouth,the feeling of the wet gauze in your mouth making you uncomfortable.
He looks at you confused for a moment before watching you point at your mouth and nods,grabbing some fresh gauze from your purse and sitting next to you.
He helps you change the gauze again before standing to go dispose of the bloody ones and wash his hands.
When he gets back,your already fast asleep on the couch with your face buried in the couch pillow,an arm hanging off the side.
Tangerine can't help but smile as he covers you up and places a soft kiss into your hair,whispering softly even though he knows you can't hear him. "Love you.."
Summary: Valkyrie is your summer fling and lets you stay at her house today while she’s at work. She gets back late and decides to play with you a bit. And then a lot.
A/N: I rarely tap into my non-platonic women love <3
Your back aligns with your heart and your crown as your toes curl. With your eyes softly shut and lids relaxed, every feeling is more accentuated. Every flex and pull is paid with generous attention. Scrunching a leg up, your knee almost meets your shoulders. Stretching out your thighs like a rubber band. “Good that's it.”
The calming voice eases and cools your spine. Vertebrae by vertebrae. Taking your time you swing your hands to the sky above your head. The shake of the muscles in your core and thighs make it hard to catch your breath at first, but you realign your focus and find the method you need. All the way In and all the way out. Huffing and groaning from your tense lungs pushing air out your mouth. You pivot your foot on the yoga mat and stretch your arms to the side, standing In warrior two.
Valkyrie is your summer fling. She let you stay at her place all day today because she, “wouldn’t be too late.” But now it’s dark out and past dinner. As much as you want to take care of food tonight, you had no idea when she would be home.
But just as you’re thinking of her again, you feel a familiar hand on your shoulder. Moving your headphones to the side to hang around your neck, using the button on the side to pause your Yoga video. Keeping your position you look at her sopping wet hood of hair and cold face, smiling at you. “Keeping busy?” She pushes the stringy soaked hair out of her face as it drips onto the floor.
“Yea, what happened Val? You're all wet?” You slowly put your palms together, taking an inhale and placing your thumbs to center. “Just forgot my raincoat.” Valkyrie looks you up and down and then walks off into the bathroom to dry her hair with a towel and change into something more comfortable. You decide to wrap up your session without guidance and set your headphones to the side.
Taking a deep breath in you slowly plant your hands back onto the mat, shifting your right leg backwards into a plank. Lowering yourself down to the ground you move your hands up to align with your shoulders. You inhale into cobra reaching your head towards the sky and then let it all go as you lower your temple back down to the mat. Lifting again into plank you bend into downward dog, shifting the bend of your knees, and just feeling the fullness of the stretch.
You’re so focused on your alignment that you fail to notice Valkyrie has snuck up on you again, now with a hand grazing your hips as she stands in your blind spot. “You know this position is really distracting.” Her tone is low and predatory. You slowly lean forward and place your knees back to the mat, raising yourself to meet her level as much as you are able.
“I could show you a few other positions if you’re that interested.” You say with an innocent inflection. Your intentions align with hers but playing dumb with her makes the game of cat and mouse all the more fun.
A smile of mischief grows on her face. She steps forward onto your mat and puts a finger to your chin. A play that makes your whole body feel a warm rush, starting at your heart and tickling in expanse. “Show me, angel.”
You smile innocently and guide her to the center of the mat with you. The fact that you're facing each other makes it all the more exciting. “Okay so put your feet hip-width apart and your shoulders back.” You glance at her stance, and nudge her feet a little farther with your foot to a better alignment. “Okay and now close your eyes or hold a soft gaze to the floor. Take a deep breath in.” You hear her inhale deeply with you. “And out.” Her warm exhale hit you as it glided out of her mouth.
“Now slowly swing your arms reaching to the sky on your inhale, and then exhale to lower your shoulders as you continue to reach up.” You open your eyes a little to check how she's following, and she is. Her stance accentuates her godly features which only proved further her worthiness as king of New Asgard and keeper of your heart. You weren’t sure if she was aware of that second title though.
“And we just stay here and breathe for a moment. Make sure your weight is evenly dis-” You’re interrupted by her touch as it softly travels up your shirt from your waist all the way to the cusp of your breasts. “What was that? Make sure my weight is where?” She teases.
Her thumb rubs back and forth on the hill, not even close to granting you the satisfaction of her touching your peaks. You try to focus on your breath again, play it off as hard to get. “Make sure your weight is evenly…distributed on all four corners of your feet.” It was clear she noticed your change in tone due to her hands moving back down to the hem of your shirt. You hold your breath waiting her her to do more.
“Make sure to breathe, love.” Fuck. Her words make it hard for you not to shudder a smidge as your lungs deflate against her touch. She slowly lifts your shirt up and over your head, exposing your breasts. You hear it get tossed on the floor beside you.
“What’s next?” She doesn’t take advantage of your half vulnerable state, but instead you feel her warmth step back. As you flutter your eyes open a little you find her just how she was when you last checked on her. Her teasing only made you want to tease her just as much. So you continue the lesson without your shirt.
“Okay inhale and on your exhale lower down to forward fold. And you might want to turn so we don’t bonk heads.” She laughs a little, “Got it.” You both turn and fold over. “Yea and just let it all hang for a bit as you breathe.” Although this was a ploy to get you in her bed, you enjoyed the peaceful activity. It was freeing not having anything covering your upper body, letting your breasts touch your thighs made you feel more connected to the practice.
“And you just want to-” You’re interrupted again by her hands on the sides of your thighs. You lift your back a bit to a halfway fold, propping your upper body up with your hands on your knees. “You know I can’t teach you if you’re just going to get distracted, Val.” She didn’t care to listen as she curled a finger to glide on the inside of the waistband of your leggings.
Your small hums give you away. She takes this as a sign to step closer, pressing her pelvis right against you and pulling you close by your hip with her free hand. She was making it hard to not pulse in heat pressed right up against her while her finger sinks in further.
Reaching the outer edge of the band again, she pulls her finger out.
“You know angel…” Carefully she backs up just enough to have room to graze your spandex covered ass and rides her fingers along the center seam. “I’m learning so much.” She says as she continues to follow the stitches lower and lower until she reaches your entrance again. The barrier of fabric doesn't make it difficult for her to make your breath hitch as she starts to press the fabric into your folds.
She pushes your back down to fold again, keeping you supported with a grip on your hip. Your jaw hangs open, letting breathy moans escape from within you. She chuckles at your mental and physical fold for her. You were no longer teaching the lesson.
Feeling her fingers halt their motions, now turned into her hands pulling both sides of the fabric that hugged your upper thighs. You gasp as she rips the seams open, separating the halves of your leggings and creating the perfect window. Her low chuckle sends a sharp feeling rushing towards your cheeks as you remember you weren’t wearing anything under your now destroyed leggings.
You feel her touch again gliding up your slick. Now having access to more of your nerves than before. “Hmm, I didn’t realize Yoga made you so…wet.” Moving her touch away with such stealth again, she denies you the pleasure of her continuing. Slowly rising up you open your eyes and watch her walk back into your sight, standing next to you again.
With a movement of her head, she gestures to you to continue. You try to shake off the fuzzy feeling that covers your body, but the cold air that hits you through the new hole in your leggings won’t let you. “Okay back into forward fold.” Your breath shaky from the intensity of lust. “You want to bend your knees and step both your feet back one at a time into a plank.” Checking on her quickly you see she seems to be following. For now. Your heart pounds at the thought of what her next move on you could be.
“Now, lower into all fours making sure your hands are in line with your shoulders and your knees are in line with your hips.” The hole only expands with your bend with the air now hitting your heat even more dramatically. The position you were both in now was so compromising. You feel the flush rush to your cheeks in anticipation. Taking another deep breath, you continue.
“With your eyes closed, you want to lower your ribs into cow and inhale. And then exhale, raising your ribs and arching your back for cat.” The stretch feels good, but now it feels like your stretch is to prepare to only be stretched and worked out further. “Just do this a few times. You can do it in a circular motion with your hips if you like too.”
It’s too silent now even with both of you huffing and breathing. As you arch and dip your back your eyes glaze open a touch again to see if she’s there. She’s not even in your peripheral vision. But turning your head would only ruin the fun.
Finally you feel her hands on you again, this time with a more intense grip on your ass that spreads you open. Your movement slows from the distraction. “Keep going.” She opens the hole in your leggings wider with both hands, but doesn’t touch. “I’m just trying to get a better visual.”
You continue to arch back and forth as she pulls on the torn fabric. Your breath shudders again as she rips it further off of your body, making your arms fall to your elbows. It was the hottest thing she’s ever done to you. Lifting your legs one at a time she peels the rest of it off, throwing the mess of fabric to the side.
As you're ready for her to fully take you, she doesn’t. She lets you sit again in your vulnerable state. Every inch of your skin is exposed to the air just for her. Your ass elevated in and your back in a deep slide. You sit there patiently as you feel her eyes travel all over your body.
A hot breath suddenly hits your wetness, followed by her voice closing in on you, “I’m surprised you haven’t begged for me yet. You’re more soaked than me when I got home.” You feel a hand on your back, soothing your arch.
Her hand then falls back to your hip crease, holding you steady as her tongue flicks your entrance. You twitch under her grip as it gets tighter with each movement. Again she denies you the pleasure, moving back but keeping her mouth close. Your core aches as her hot breath agonizes you. Her touch makes you more needy.
You muster up the breath to speak, “Why don’t you just fuck me already. It’s clear how hard it is for you not to.” With your hips, you trace a circle to taunt her. Dangling the pleasure you’ve both been after right in front of her face.
She hums, “Maybe I want you to ask, angel.” Fuck. She really was teaching the lesson at this point. But you want to taunt her again, denying her pleasure just as much. “Hmm, I don’t know…” You scoot forward and sit up hiding her center of attention that lay between your legs, out of sight. You turn back to look at her. “We haven’t even had dinner yet.”
She raises a brow and scoots closer to you, moving your hair to the side to kiss your neck and whisper, “This is dinner.” She abruptly bends you down again in the position you were before, taking hold of your thighs and diving in. Her tongue brushes and swirls around on your slick sensitive surface. With your head turned, your jaw hangs open again now letting louder moans escape.
“Ask.” She demands lifting her head for a moment to use her fingers to circle your entrance like how you circled it in her face. “Fingers…” You heave, “Please…”.
“That's better.” She sinks her fingers into you and doesn’t even build up to her current pace. The motion makes you jolt and ride against her fingers, making the pleasure more immense. She knocks your legs further with her free hand, expanding the access she has to you and moving back to gripping your hip crease. Then feeling her fingers move out of you she gives you one last lick to see how sensitive she made you.
“Val.” you say through weighted breaths, “Please.” She doesn’t answer your whine, leaving you wet and sensitive again. It was aggravating.
But just as you start to think about getting up, the racing pleasure reaches you again with a finger attending to your clit while her tongue weaves inside you. She consumes you, touching every possible spot of sensitivity for you. You squirm under her grip again, as she pokes her tongue in and out.
She does this until you feel like you could droll right on the floor, gripping on what you could of the yoga mat. In a split second she backs away and flips you on your back with ease, switching her tongue with her fingers. With your back on the floor she still manages to make your back curl while the tingle she provides travels up your spine. Vertebrae by vertebrae. She has a better grip on you this way, hooking her arm around to hold you steady while she flicks your clit with her tongue. Her other hand sliding fingers in and out of you.
You become taut around her fingers, squeezing as you get closer to melting in her grasp. The tension that’s been laying within your pelvis pulls like it's a muscle. She hits your back wall harder with more intensity as she notices how close you’ve gotten. Looking up from sucking on you.
“Shit…Val.” You squeak with weak vowels as you continue to writhe in pleasure. Again, she picks up the pace making it harder for you to not finish.
Your entrance pulses with a deep tingle, as if it's pulling her in. Gasping in breath you lift your head up to watch her continue to lick as you release it all on her fingers. She lifts her head but continues to push her fingers in and out, and watches as you become an overstimulated mess.
She lets you ride the sensation for a moment before slowing down, letting you cool and squirm on her fingers before pulling them out. You rest your head back down, sinking all of your muscles into the floor and catching your regular stamina back. A shadow forms over your closed eyes and when you open you find her looming over your spent body with a grin. Watching as your flustered face huffs slow heavy breaths. She doesn’t look even close to done with you.
“We should do Yoga more often”
You chuckle at her, “I think we do plenty of Yoga.”
“Yea, but…we should do it in the fall.” She leans down and places a kiss on your cheek, “And the winter.” Another kiss is placed on your other cheek. “If you catch my drift.”
You do. You’ve been waiting for her to suggest this all summer at this point. “Maybe I want you to ask…” You tease her wanting to hear it directly from her lips. Your words make her smile more. A sign that you caught each other's drifts. She centers herself in front of your face, backing up to all fours on top of you. Just like you taught her.
Contains: ( 18+ Mature Only ) praise, first kiss, head, and x-men movie.
Words: 2k+
Summary: Carmen, a good friend, shows up unexpectedly at your door late at night. Tipsy. And things obviously take a turn as he sobers up and you learn the true nature of his visit. ( no under the influence… do not fret )
I used a scene from Netflix’s series ‘Good Girls’ season 4 episode 6, as a main plot point and used the begging dialogue. I won’t name the scene as to not spoil the show ( it’s not a big plot point and the fanfic does not spoil it either. ) you can watch the clip here.
This was written for a friend 💕 ( and i had to repost due to an error ) This is also the second fan-fiction I have ever completed, so enjoy.
It’s a relaxing Saturday evening in your quaint charming little apartment on the third floor. Warm lighting, antique cabinet, quilted blanket covering your lap, and a warm homemade mug of Earl Grey tea in your hand as you read your book.
knock. knock. KNOCK.
A heavy and lazy hand knocks on your landlord’s special white front door. It’s 10 p.m., who could be knocking on the door? You un-tuck yourself from your spot on the couch and with tea in hand, you head toward the door and open it.
It’s Carmen. You’ve been friends for about a year now, friends with feelings for half that time. You met through a mutual friend, one who works at his restaurant. The relationship between you two is close and has only gotten closer with having the same friend group. But even with the tension in the room during every group hangout, he’s never made a move. And neither have you. Maybe it’s because of his girlfriend. Who didn’t show up to game nights.
And yet here he is, making an unexpected visit to your apartment.
“This isn’t my house,” he says. He smells of beer and is definitely not sober. Both his arms hold his body up as he leans in your doorframe.
“Hey yourself…” your face is twisted with confusion. Carmy never came over, at least not by himself. “Are you…tipsy? Fried? any other word for not sober?” You try to figure him out enough to make him go away before it turns into something else.
He chuckles a bit, “Just a bit buzzed”.
“Why are you in my doorway, Carmen?” You lean against the open door.
“I was at the bar, with friends. Karaoke bar.” He huffs as he finishes his sentence which seems hard to get out of his mouth.
“I don’t even know who to feel sorry for there” you respond. A look of worry mixed in with your confusion.
You stare at each other for what feels like the longest five seconds of your life. His mouth hung open a little.
“I can’t be with her anymore” You wince at his words and your heart drops to your toes. Did he just say that? Has he told her?
“You should go home,” trying to prevent something from progressing.
“I don’t want to go home” he quickly responds
“Then you should go somewhere else” You grab the door leaning away, ready to close it on him. Although you don’t want to, you know you should.
“Can I uh- just please come in?” Starting to close the door he pushes back a bit “No, Carmy. Please trust me, just go home.” He places a firm hand on the door and abruptly says, “I think I’m gonna crap myself.”
You stop and look at him. It’s unbelievable that this is what made you stop. You swing the door open and do the same with your other arm, gesturing to him to enter. He walks in, and heads for the bathroom.
Setting your tea down you sit on the couch waiting for him to come back, you try to think of anything else other than the fact that Carmen is in your home. Possibly with the intention of cheating on his girlfriend with you. Attempting to stare at the patchy rug to find some sort of escape. The goal now was to just make sure he didn’t do anything crass.
He walks out of the bathroom and immediately slumps himself on the floor against the couch right next to you. “I wouldn’t go in there for at least 30 minutes.”
Raising your brows and giggling, “Feeling any better?”
Carmen doesn’t even look at you, he just looks straight on. “Not really.” He rubs his hands together.
“I broke up with Sarah.” He says quietly. Yet another string of words that makes your heart drop.
“Oh, I’m sorry.” You try to be reassuring but you’re not sure how to be in this situation. “Do you want to talk about it?” Carmen looks at you, his eyes glossy from his buzz.
“Nah.” You tilt your head at him and then look over at the TV, catching the slight reflection of your two figures lounging on the comfy yellow couch. “Do you want to watch something?”
Carmen’s nods face towards the black screen of the TV, and you reach for the remote to turn something on. “X-men?” you suggest as he gets up and sits on the other end of the couch. One person’s width away from you.
“X-Men it is.” He slurs his words a bit as he gestures to the TV with a hand and flops it back down in his lap. Turning on the movie, you make yourself comfortable by shifting your legs to bend and your feet resting on the middle cushion, pulling the blanket over you. Even with him sitting glued to the arm of the other end, you both are still somehow too close.
As the movie passes, the tension stands. Seeing each other glancing out of the corner of their eyes now and then doesn’t help. Finally, Carmey opens up a bit and starts to comment on the movie, “You know, I don’t know why they cast Evan Peters for this when he plays that other guy in that Wanda show. Fuckin’ stupid.” He sounds more like himself now, which eases the tension, making this situation a little more comfortable.
“Yeah I think there’s a theory about that,” You both continue to talk throughout the movie, he seems to sober up. It’s nice hanging out with him like this. Although the circumstances aren’t 100% preferred, you don’t seem to mind it anymore.
The movie ended with you both laughing at a conversation completely unrelated. Whatever it was it was something way more entertaining to both of you. So long of a conversation that the credits end. You both look over to the screen again. A prompt asking “How would you rate this film?”.
“Well, I guess it ended.” You chuckle a bit but look over at him, seemingly back in his head again. Maybe you shouldn’t have said that.
Now sitting up against the arm of the couch and crossing your legs, you feel like you should say something.
“You know the best wa-“ he interrupts you “I broke up with her so I could see you.”
Your eyes meet as he looks over to you, now sitting up a bit more. “Carmy I-“ interrupting you again “Y/N, I don’t want you to feel guilty or anything. I know this is a lot,” he puts a hand to his temple and starts to get a little more passionate in his speech. Almost defensive. “Shit. I just couldn’t see you without leaving and not feel fuckin’ guilty!” His hand gestures around as he speaks, like he’s in the kitchen talking to his staff.
“Carmen!” You try to steer the conversation away from him getting louder, “Why would you feel guilty?” You know the answer to that.
He rests a hand on his lap and his other on his temple again. Releasing a deep exhale, he looks at you. “Maybe I wanted to uh-,” he hesitates for a moment to look you up and down. “Feel something…else.”
You can feel the flush rushing to your cheeks so quickly after he says this. With wide eyes and raised brows, you try to pull out your best response, “Feel what? Pressed about…Marvel casting?”
He chuckles and moves a smidge towards you, putting a bent leg up on the couch, “No no no. no. Jesus. That, that’s ridiculous.” You smile a bit at his amusement, “Then what is it, Carmy?”
Rubbing his face and letting out another huff, he sounds like he’s holding back. And you aren’t sure if you want him to keep it bottled or release it.
Continuing to look at you with starry eyes, he rests an arm on the back of the couch. “Fuck. Look. I don’t want to be too forward and I definitely don’t want to make you uncomfortable,” You press your lips together in anticipation of what he’s about to say, “It’s something that I’ve felt for a while and I’ve been fucking ignoring it.” He pauses again and takes another huff, taking a look at the door. “I should just go.”
As he gets up you grab his wrist, stopping him dead in his tracks. “Carmy,” his eyes soften as he looks at you, “you don’t need to leave.”
As you let go of his wrist he sits next to you, closer. “It’s kind of obvious.” You chuckle a bit through your words. It is obvious. You’ve noticed this tension for a while now, he’s only just confirming it.
“What is? That I like you?” His tone is almost defensive like he was caught. A smile creeps on your face, “I mean…Marcus has noticed it too.” He raises his brows, surprised. “He said the tension is thicker than his dark chocolate mousse.” Carmen laughs at this, and so do you. It’s a sweet moment.
He pushes his hair back from falling more in his face, “I uh, I’m sorry I showed up like this.”
“If you mean showing up drunk at my door to use my bathroom and then sobering up while watching X-men with me…” You make it sound like a bigger deal than it is just to tease him.
“No yea, shit. I’m sorry I-”
“Then it’s more than fine.” Laughing again, like you are the only two people in the world. You both exchange a smile looking deeper into each other’s eyes.
“You’ve always had a nice laugh.” He says putting his arm back on the couch, and leaning in a bit.
“You do too.” It all feels like a dream. The fact that he’s here, making a move on you.
He brushes a strand of hair out of your face, so effortlessly, that you wish you could stay in that moment forever.
You look away for a moment, clearly a bit flustered, “Are you sure you aren’t still tipsy?” turning back you notice he’s gotten a little closer.
“I’m positive I’m sober.” He chuckles again.
You start to lean in a bit, not realizing that you have until your noses are about five inches apart from one another. His hand was still near your face, resting on the back of the couch beside you.
Looking at your lips he begins to say, “I uh. Just-”. He doesn’t even finish his thought. He’s too distracted by his lips on yours.
It was a soft kiss, one you’ve been waiting for, for the longest time. Pulling back you find his hand on your cheek caressing it. “You have no idea how long I’ve been wanting to do that.” He says, with a breath of relief that the hard part was over.
Jaw dropped, you look at his mouth again. He catches this and charges at you for another kiss, this time more intense. You hold both of his cheeks in hopes of him staying put. He almost hovers over you as you both continue to make out.
Soft and quiet moans escape your mouth as he reaches down one of his hands to feel the sides of your arms. Then tracing back up to your cheek. He pulls back. Your lips burn with sensation.
“Carmen,” the words escape your mouth through heavy breathing, “are you sure this is okay.”
He puts a hand to your chin, “Yes.” he kisses your cheek. “I wanna take care of you.” Your brain swarms with ideas of what he could mean.
You smile in approval while taking his free hand and putting it to your breast. He smirks as he follows his hand and where it landed. “Then take care of me.”
With a firm squeeze, he touches you through your shirt, while he moves his face towards your neck and kisses it. He takes his time reaching under your shirt to explore you with more satisfaction.
Caressing your nipple with his pointer and his thumb, already making you weak. And he watches as your face curls in pleasure.
Carmen then lifts your shirt to sit just above your breasts and kisses the center, making his way over the hill of your other breast and biting the peak. It makes you gasp. He puts a hand under the curve of your other breast and messages it.
Your soft moans only make him want you more.
He moves away for a moment, and you open your eyes to watch him, “wha- what is it.” He smirks and lifts the blanket you’re under, just enough to reach his arm in to place a hand on the side of your thigh. Scooting closer he leans over you now slouched on the couch.
Suddenly you’re kissing again, passionately. He feels your thigh up and down gripping it, then moving to the inside. Parting your legs he reaches a hand up from the bottom of your shorts, under your panties to grab your hip. Like it’s his. Then firmly and slowly sliding it back out.
“Take… them off.” You whisper through kisses. Pulling away he smiles and looks at your drowsy eyes. Without saying anything he lifts the blanket further and now using both his hands he tugs on your waistband, taking away the sleep boxers you had been wearing.
Touching you again in that spot that’s so sensitive, he teases you. Denying the pleasure of having the fabric between you and his fingers, out of the way. Your moans continue, still soft, as he caresses you further. The intensity builds as your lips meet again.
Backing away, he lifts the blanket once more, but now going in head first. Your heart drops, you know exactly what he has in mind.
With his head between your thighs he kisses your soft spot, and then taking both his hands on either side of your drawers, he pulls them off revealing you.
Carmen uses his fingers to carefully open you up like a flower, kissing the bud. He’s so gentle that you do feel like you’re being taken care of.
But then you suddenly feel another sensation. His tongue is on you. Swirling around. It makes you moan louder as your back arches. Ribs reaching for the sky. You grab onto the couch to try and ground yourself, but it doesn’t help much.
“You’re so wet for me.” He feasts upon you and now takes two of his fingers and plays with your entrance, spreading your wetness around like butter on a hot skillet. His free arm is wrapped around your thigh, holding on tight to keep you steady.
As he tastes you more and more. The finest dish. You lift your end of the blanket with the small strength you have and watch his head back away from your clit to look at you as he puts two fingers inside you. He starts to push them in and out of you and you throw your head back moaning in absolute hot delight.
“Look at me.” His demand is so dominating. Again, sounding like he’s in the kitchen.
“Make me.” You say through a heavy moan. He pulls his fingers out making you gasp grabbing your chin and pulling your face down to meet his eyes. “Yes, Chef”. He chuckles a bit, letting you get away with that one. You knew he might be thinking about that during his next shift.
You watch as he goes back down, shoving his fingers back inside. Gripping the couch once again louder moans escape your mouth. Picking up his pace you can feel him hitting your walls in the best way. “Fuck, Carmy…” You manage to moan out.
The closer you get the more you surrender to his pace as it gets faster. Your body clenches around him, making it tighter and tighter for him. “Cum for me.”
You nod your head rapidly as you’re too stimulated by the pleasure. Your back arches even further and you become stiff in your position as he hits the spot so perfectly. This is what you’ve been waiting for. The peak of your gratification inches closer and closer.
Finally…you gasp in ecstasy, his fingers still inside you pounding. “That’s it.” He whispers moving away from eating you out, to just using his fingers. Watching you as you finish on them.
Carmen pulls his fingers out slowly, watching your overstimulated body heave heavy breaths. He scoots your legs to the side to lie beside you on the couch. Between catching up with your lungs you manage to speak. “Carmen, you…” You take a clarifying breath as he props himself up on his arm, looking at you as he lays beside you. “You’re really good at that.”
He chuckles, “Of course I am, I eat for a living.” He tucks your hair away behind your ear, and you both take a moment to be present as your tummy buzzes with butterflies.
Summary: After months of tension, a visit to his bedroom sparks something that was a long time coming.
“Focus on the Target.”
Geralt of Rivia was a Witcher to be reckoned with. His hard exterior is thicker than bone and rock. It’s just the way he has to be, to be able to fight those dreadfully awful monsters.
He took you under his protection initially a handful of months ago, when he found you lost in the forest. A lost and broken female Witcher. It was no law of surprise but you both found yourself inseparable. And with every foe you both have crossed, you have insisted that you can fend for yourself. It’s hard for you to resist being stubborn about it since you were both around the same age and once wielded power like his.
Today, he finally decided to teach you the trade of combat. Since you never learned under prior “guardianship”. For, there would be a point where you would lose at your attempt to get involved.
Your leather boots squelch into the terrain below as you pull your arm in with blade in hand. The slight breeze that carries sprinkles of rain falls into the bay of your parted lip. You swing the throwing knife at the target ahead, hearing it whisper its sharpness in the air as it flies. The knife thuds on the ground, refusing to stick into the wooden target.
“Your grip is key.” He places another blade in your hand gripping your fingers tightly around it to show you how hard you should hold it. “The angle you throw should follow your arm’s aim…” Looking over at him, watching his yellow eyes flicker as he focuses on your training, you admire his strong features. His husky jaw and broad shoulders. The way his hair looks like beds of fallen snow and soot, with a strand falling next to his furrowy brows. More than a handsome man, but a damn good-looking one.
“Just inhale deeply and let it go as you throw. Just like the bow and arrow.” You nod “I understand”.
You spin your head back toward the target that is nailed to the wide tree, narrowing your eyes. Throwing again you manage to make it stick, but not in the center.
“Better,” His voice sounds full of gravel. But it’s deep enough to be alluring.
You’ve been attracted to his presence since you met him. And he’s felt the same about you. There have been many times when hands graze, tension fogs a room, and sometimes your lips almost meet during the fading of dusk. Your hearts were more than friends, but you both never mentioned any sort of lust, when it fluttered in the air. You both just let it pass by for some unknown reason. I mean, how could you turn down a man so protective and valiant as him?
“Remember to take your time, the ease will keep you in line with your target.” He gets closer to you guiding your arm with his hand, “When the knife leaves your hand, you want to be aiming higher than the target.” Shifting your eyes from him back to the target, just to get a sense of how close he is. You inhale deeply, letting it all fly away with the throw of the next knife.
Geralt is impressed and nods. “Good, very good.” He hands you another knife. “Again.” His dominating tone makes him all the more attractive.
Continuing to practice, you make a good improvement. Even with the distractions of him looming over you, or showing you how to hold the blade correctly. Not to mention the exchange of glances here and there that feel so seductive. But his expressions are always too cold to tell half the time.
You practice until the sun begins setting in the sky. He plucks the last knives out from the spiral wooden target. “You did well.” As you move toward him he turns around to take the last two from your hand. “I believe I’ve made quite the improvement on the path to proving you wrong, Geralt.” His response is a huff. The closest thing you’ll get to a chuckle from him.
“We should get back inside before it turns dark.” He looks at you, “Get some food and rest”.
You both make your way back to the tall house you’ve decided to reside at for the month. It’s tall and made of cobble. Wide and large, but not as large as a mansion. It’s just more than enough space. The mossy stone is gorgeous with the way the golden light showers its surface.
After eating a sufficient meal you decide to head to the bath. Geralt leaves you to clean up and relax, as you’ve earned it. The bathroom is just as homey yet grand as the house itself. A large sunken smooth stone tub, with buckets and candles around it. Cloth to wash and dry with as well. You undress from your robes, covered in mud and grass stains. Slipping every item off with ease as your breath deepens in relaxation.
The bath is warm as you step in, one leg at a time, then sit on the inner step of the tub. The cuts on your knuckles sting as they meet the water. Training did not only involve throwing knives but it involved throwing punches. Some against hardwood.
Although you are exposed, you feel safe, finding peace within the subtle darkness of the room. You steep in the tub for a while, taking your time cleaning yourself. Tilting your head back and closing your eyes, you soak and relax further.
So relaxed you are reluctant to hear the door creek open. “Oh uhm.” That coarse voice makes you shoot your eyes open to find Geralt standing there. You catch him looking at your wet and free breasts, so beautiful as they glisten from candlelight. He quickly turns away, “Sorry I thought you had finished.” The last word echoes in your head. Finished. The interaction makes you grin. He’s felt the breast he sees before him yet he has trouble looking out of respect for your current nature.
“Not yet.” You tease and play with his words and smirk, looking him up and down. You wouldn’t mind if he were to look again. Maybe come over and join you. “I’m almost done. Unless you want to join me.”
Geralt nods and moves closer, refusing to look anywhere in your direction. You’re surprised he decided to join you, but you guess he just thought it was best to not waste warm water. “I cannot stay for long. I have tasks that need my attention later tonight”. He finally meets your eyes but doesn’t explore anywhere else.
“Well, There’s plenty of warm bath.” You gesture to the other side of the large tub. It’s spacious enough to fit four people. He starts to take off his ragged dark clothes of the day and steps into the bath, only leaving on his medallion. His body was covered in those familiar scars he lets you ask about. He sinks into the tub, and you watch him out of the corner of your eye, wanting to pay the same respect to him as he did to you.
He seems very at ease in the pool as if everything else is just white noise. He closes his eyes and sighs as if he were waiting for this moment of relaxation. The water blurs everything beneath the surface as it ripples, and you watch the water as it waves.
“So what does the night feature for you tonight? You said you have tasks.” Your eyes meet his. Geralt seems to think for a moment, the water lapping the sides of the pool. “Nothing too serious. Need to deliver a Kikimora leg to an alchemist in town.”
His voice is comforting and relaxing. He has a lot of experience with monsters, so it’s quite natural for him to speak of them so calmly. “I’ll be back in the early hours of the morning.”
“Then you should take your time now before you face another creature.” You grab a sponge and hand it to him. Your hands touch on accident, as they tend to do, and he takes the sponge. “Thank you.” It glides over his muscular arms and chest, and you can’t help but watch him a bit. He groans and it makes you squirm your legs a bit. As the noise would be lovely in another situation.
You let a few strained minutes of stubborn sexual tension pass before you notice how pruned your fingers are. “I’m headed to my chambers, I’m in dire need of my beauty rest.” You grab a towel and start to emerge from the bath. "I look forward to seeing your beauty upon rising.” He turns his face away and remains silent after this, seeming to restrain any further comment on your naked figure before him.
You dry yourself as much as you can before wrapping yourself in the warm towel. Starting to walk out of the room, you turn your head back to meet his eyes again.
“Goodnight, Geralt. And good luck” You smile and turn to walk away closing the door behind you, just hoping he makes it back as unharmed as possible.
-
-
-
You wake up in sheer terror, gasping for breath, clinging a hand to your heart, and feeling your pulse race a little faster than usual. It was another nightmare. One that was rare these nights. You sweep your curly locks out of your face and try to gather yourself. Maybe turning on a light or two would help.
The terrors fade a bit from your memory as you cool down, trying to observe the room to distract you. It must be late in the evening, creeping into early morning as it is still dark out the window beside your bed. He must be back by now, he has to be.
You throw your blankets open and slip out of bed, still wobbly from your slumber. With slightly heavy feet, you make your way out into the hall with candle in hand. The silence of the house is accompanied by the creek of the floorboards and the wind faintly hitting the window at the end of the hall. There is no glow from the outside seeping through the window like there is in the winter. Just darkness and shadows of your surroundings bathe around you and your candlelight.
As you carefully make your way down the hall, refraining from making as much noise as possible, you reach his door. You stand in front of the mahogany and iron, deciding if you should bother his sleep he so well deserved. Although you now desired more than one form of comfort.
Taking a deep breath, you nudge the door with your knuckles just enough to see and peek in. The door’s hinges creak quietly as it moves open a sliver.
You find that his bed is made, and he is not there. A strange discovery as you knew he’d be back in the early hours of the morning.
“Y/N.” A large warm hand lands on your shoulder and you gasp. “What are you doing up?” His hot breath lingers on your neck. You turn to face him, candle at your side. He’s a little cleaner than usual with a few small scratches on his face and his garbs and armor rugged from combat.
“I could ask you the same question.” His eyes glued to you as he takes your candle and sets it on the hallway’s table beside him.
“I am well within my reason. You should be in bed.” He wasn’t wrong about either. But it’s hard to sleep when the best comfort is supposed to be in the other room. Now it faces you.
Taking the pad of your thumb, you swipe his cheek and ignore his scolding. “Didn’t get too beat up, I hope.” He holds your hand in place and closes his eyes for a moment, taking in your palm. Then meeting his eyes with yours again, he lets go of the grasp and lets your hand fall.
“All went well indeed.” He moves a step closer to you backing you up against the wall.
“Now. I will ask you again. What are you doing up?” His voice makes you shiver with how low it is. Although it’s an intimidating tone, you find it protective.
“I’m safe and sound aren’t I? Why does it matter.” You try to throw your attitude at him to show he has no control over you.
“Because. You tend to linger by my bedpost when you’ve had a night terror.” He’s not wrong. You would come to him when it was unbearable because he was the only company you knew to turn to. You stay quiet with a tough look on your face, and he clearly reads you like a book.
He takes a step forward and as a result, you are pinned to the wall between his door and the table with the candle lit. “Or are your intentions…” Leaning in, he puts a hand on the wall right over your shoulder. Another attempt at protective imitation. “More seductive?”
“Perhaps a bit of both…” You analyze all his features, letting your eyes wander. “Perhaps…” You move a smidge closer to him, breath upon breath, “more seductive intentions.”
He doesn’t even let you catch your breath before taking a firm hand to your hip and locking lips with you. The kiss is filled with a feverous passion that makes you ache for more. You reach for his face again, pulling him closer, while you put another hand on his chest starting to unbuckle his armor at the sides.
This felt different than the other moments when you’re lips met each other. This felt like it was going to lead somewhere more permanent. It was rougher and made you more in need of his touch. His chest piece falls to the floor while he works on taking the others off, throwing it to the side. Geralt was now easier to feel, with fewer clothes to shield him from your touch.
In a swift motion, he grabs you by your thighs and picks you up, pressing you into the wall while your legs wrap around him. Tongues interlacing in a dance, swirling.
As you both pull away, your lips burn with sensation. He huffs into your mouth and presses his temple to yours, swinging you around and taking you to his bed. His grip on your ass as you travel is firm.
His room is almost as humble as his, but his bed is just as handsome. The headboard is stained Mahogany with carved features of trees and animals. And the canopy drapes over the bedposts, making it a cozy resting place.
He plops you down onto the edge of the end of the bed and starts to loom over you again. Leaning in to kiss you once more, you scoot backward. Making him work for it. “Catch me if you can, White Wolf.” You make sure to annunciate the name, just to tease him further. Every quick move you make back, he advances. Until you hit the headboard, letting him have his way with you.
The kiss again is tender and filled to the brim with passion. He grabs your wrist pinning it above you as he starts to kiss down your jaw, then your throat, until he hits your night dress. A thin white gown made from cotton cloth that comfortably drapes your body. He sits up, staring down at you for a second.
“I’ll get you a new dress.” He grabs the opening right above your breasts and tears it open, turning the garment into mere scraps of fabric. And just as he found you in the bathing room, you are exposed to him yet again.
He takes you in, being so mindful of every hill and plain on your body. It looks like he’s mapping you out for a plan of sensual attack. He murmurs low at the sight of you, and a hint of a smile appears on his face.
Your knees are bent, stuck together, while your heels lay far apart. With his medallion dangling, he takes a hand from your stomach and glides his calloused palm down your side. He sweeps under to grab your ass, releasing his grip to then move to your thighs. Trailing up his hands meet your knees, and he moves them apart. Opening you.
As his hand moves, his eyes follow to meet the center of your opened legs. His treasure. His reward to reap. He dances his fingers to your inner thigh, closer and closer to your center.
“Am I to watch as you dangle satisfaction above my head.” You say softly while your breath hitches with every change in touch. “Mm-hmm.” He nods as he finally reaches your clit making slow circles. You gasp and arch as his touch consumes your entire being shooting pleasure up every vertebrae.
Leaning in closer, he grabs your face sternly with control and kisses you again. The sensation fills you with desire. He then fills you again but with his fingers. Not rushing but not hesitating either. In and out, he pushes again and again. Although this fills you with more than mere lust, you want to show him how you can overcome his territory.
You push against his chest with a hand and he follows the motion sitting up with you and slipping his fingers out. He might be dominating but he’d do anything for a beautiful creature such as yourself. As he’s up you sit on your knees before him and begin unbuttoning his shirt.
Stopping only four buttons down you look into his eyes with mischief in mind. You tear open his shirt the same way he did to your dress. Taking his medallion in your hands you pull on it just enough so his lips are once again close to yours. “I’ll get you a new one”. You smirk at him and his hint of a smile grows a little larger from your playfulness.
You unlatch the buckle on his pants and push him back onto the mattress. It was your turn to be the cat climbing over him.
As your breasts dangle in his face he starts to take his trousers off. You stop him and do it yourself, throwing them on the floor. Now he’s just as vulnerable as you.
Starting from his ankles you prowl your way to his hardness.
Within your grasp, it is firm and thick. Only growing thicker as your breasts hang in his face again. This throat purs with his low-toned vibrations making you chuckle. Lifting his head, he places his mouth on your breast while placing a hand on your waist. This leaves your entrance to hover over his cock in your hands. A tease for you both as you continue to move your hand up and down his shaft while his tip kisses your wetness.
Moaning and humming, you both stay here in this series of actions. But he desires more of you. Moving his mouth away from your breast, he places both of his hands on your waist. “I trust you remember our horseback lesson, yes?” He says looking at you.
Your grin is naughty after he says this. With his permission you slide onto his mass, stretching you, while he guides you with his grip on your hips. His length fills you and you struggle to look at him straight. It’s just too large to handle without going slow.
Now that you’re sitting upon him, you start to ride. Just like he taught you. Starting slow you bounce up and down letting your hair hang in front of your face. The pleasure is too much to bear with eyes open. Grabbing your face again he says “Look up, darling”.
His grip tilts your head up to face a mirror you failed to notice at the other end of the room, facing right at you. You also fail to continue to ride him, now distracted by the surprise of your reflection. With your hips now hovering, he gives you another surprise and starts to thrust into you. You start to close your eyes again as your face scrunches in pleasure.
“Keep watching.” He tightens his grip on your face as moans continue to escape your mouth. And you watch as he fucks you. He frees his hand on your hip for a moment to smack your ass as it creates a tantalizing sting, leaving your cheek red. He watches as you watch your reflection jolt up and down from his thrusts. Moving his hand down to your throat, he flirtatiously chokes you, while he arches his head back to watch the mirror with you.
Reaching a hand to hold his arm that has a grasp on your throat, he finally lets you throw your head back as you grow tighter around him. “Gods…” You exclaim. “You feel…so…fuck”. He chuckles low at you and starts to thrust at a faster pace.
As you both get closer to ecstasy his hands move back to your hips, and you bow down to meet his temple. Moaning into each other’s mouths, the sensation of your parts meeting is what the afterlife should feel like. It’s more than safe to say that this is the furthest you’ve taken each other than ever before.
Your temples continue to meet as he trusts, and your grip on his shoulders tightens as you feel yourself pulse around him. Holding you close his movements get tighter and tighter. Until finally, a rush of sensation washes over you and within you, as he finishes as well.
Slowing down, sweat drips from your brow. He lets you feel him twitch inside you before lifting you by your hips while you gasp at the release of fulfillment. You feel the mixture of fluid drip down your inner thigh, a satisfying tickle.
You both try to catch your breaths lying on his chest. As your hand lays on his heart you feel his body rise and fall with each breath. It’s so calming here, even if your legs already feel sore. He puts a hand on your back to soothe you.
“Feeling better?” He asks. You realize that you had forgotten the original intention of lingering at his door. “I am feeling…” Sitting up you look into his eyes, tucking a piece of hair away from his face. “Magnificent.” A well-earned and rare smile appears on his face as he looks into your eyes. You feel proud to know you made The Witcher smile for once.
Warnings: forced proximity, brat, lots of smirking, edging ( let me know how else i can label, this is my first finished piece )
Summary: Dinner tested your seams. But he has something else to add to your plate. ( steamy part )
this was made with the help of Character AI Loki made by @Skullbright. The opening dialogue from Loki in Ch.1 is provided by them.
Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3
Hours pass and the sunset turns dark. You haven’t forgotten about how he blocked you from leaving. The way that he loomed over you like a beast. Like he already owned you. Those eyes locked on you with an intensity that burned into your very soul.
You remember that air of tension, thick with a palpable sense of attraction and potential. You remember that surge of butterflies in your stomach, your heart pounding so hard it felt as if it would burst out of your chest. But never mind all that. Because he is the worst possible being you could ever imagine being tangled up in.
The window open lets in a calming breeze that brushes the curtains. You lounge in a large armchair, wearing a soft pale blue silky nightgown, something the trickster god magically filled within the dark stained wood wardrobe.
As you read your book, you hear the floorboards creek near the door. Standing guard and sitting up straight, your eyes dart towards the door. The handle jiggles slightly.
God, he can’t get a clue, can he?
“You know, it’s more polite to knock” You hear as he sighs to himself, and then politely knocks on the door. “Come in,” you say as you unlock the door with a wave of your finger.
Loki slowly opens the door, his eyes locked upon you as he walks in and closes the door behind him. “You look…rather nice, in that gown…” he says, as he walks slowly further into the room, his voice soft, and eyes wandering up and down your body with desire.
“What is it you need, Loki?” Your book still held open by your hand rests in your lap. His eyes are glued to your body, his desire growing with each moment “I came to see. How…how is the…” he pauses, and his voice gets deeper. “The room is working.” You can’t believe he’s having a hard time focusing, since he’s usually the one who knows what to say all the time.
He glances at the open book in your lap, the book you seem to still be intent on reading. He seems to be captivated and his eyes lower in a lustful stare of desire, “Your book…are you not bored of reading?” Pausing for you to answer, he doesn’t take his eyes away from you for a second.
“I am not, I quite enjoy reading”. Loki smirks. His voice becomes soft again, “Indeed, we witches are quite knowledgeable.” The way he refers to himself as one makes it sound a little better. It was a tone you liked better.
“Tell me, what seems more captivating at the moment, the book, or me?” He is now leaning against the thick bedpost. Crossing his arms. You are taken aback. Although his boldness isn’t very surprising.
The answer to his question is obvious. “The book”.
He laughs softly and shakes his head at your words. “I highly doubt the book is more distracting than me…” He starts to walk around to the front of the chair very slowly, “Unless the book is a tome of black magic and spells, I don’t see how you haven’t been drawn to me even a tiny bit.“
You know his game, and you know where it’s going to end. “Loki, your attempts do not make me fall for you. If you are going to flirt, at least learn who you’re trying to woo.”
He chuckles and takes a seat in the chair he’s been looming around. “Oh, you have misunderstood the situation, my dear. This is not flirtation.” He touches the arm of the chair delicately. Stroking it with his fingers, still smiling with that grin. The grin that’s been driving you crazy.
Your eyes try to not dart straight to staring at it, “This…is me…playing with you.” His devilish grin grows again just enough for you to notice, sending a shiver down your spine.
You decide to send one down his, “Then, understand who you’re playing with,”.
“Oh..is that so? And what if you win this little game we’re playing?” He leans in, elbows to knees in an attempt to get closer. You decide to give into his game a little, “Then you can leave me alone, and our agreement still stands”.
The Trickster God smiles more seductively as he responds, “Are you not at all curious about what I will do if I win?” You close your book in your lap, “I am curious, but that doesn’t mean I’ll let you.” Loki smirks and leans in once again, even closer.
“Oh, my fair witch…your curiosity is going to get the better of you before this night is over. I can feel it in my soul…”. You stare daggers into him. He has such nerve to come into your chambers and continue to play this game.
“What soul”, you say hoping your words will sting.
“Oh…you wound me, my dear. My darling, what I meant was that one would assume my divine presence would be impossible for you to resist. I see no reason why you should not be completely in my sway right now.”
He’s such a cocky bastard. All you want to do is keep jabbing at him with your words. “Try harder then,” you try to match his arrogant tone. Give him a taste of his own attitude.
Loki leans back into the chair, raising a brow at the boldness of your words. “You’re…quite a handful, my fair witch. But, I admire that in a woman. You are unlike any woman I’ve ever met,” His voice sounds impressed.
Loki watches you as you readjust to face him more directly. The Trickster God sits quietly for a moment. “You realize that I could use my divine influence and take you as my lover right now. I could cast one simple spell and you’d be under my control,”.
Those words that have trickled out of his mouth, make you ache. Unfortunately. “but that wouldn’t be any fun now, would it?” He says.
You both sit in silence for a long minute. “Did you have an actual purpose in coming to my chambers?” you say in hopes of getting more than a flirtatious quip.
His response is slow, as he shakes his head, “Oh, my fair witch,” he clears his throat, “As I said before, I simply wished to check how you were…in the arrangement…” Loki pauses. He wants something.
“Well, I seem to be doing fine,” You stare out the window, watching those sheer curtains flow in the breeze. Trying to not get stuck in his eyes again.
Loki smirks, “I’m quite fond of this arrangement we have, my beautiful witch. But, are you getting all you want from me?” he pauses, letting his words hang. His voice goes even lower and his eyes are full of lust.
“I believe so,” confused by his question you turn your head a bit as you continue to gaze out the window.
His voice becomes even lower and intense, “But are you certain, my fair witch? Are you really getting everything you expect out of this?”
Out of the corner of your eye, you see Loki slowly rise from his seat. His figure was a grey and green blur. You can tell that his eyes are glued on your body, taking note of every subtle detail.
“I’m certain,” you say quietly. Looking back he is now standing right in front of you.
Looking up to meet his eyes, Loki’s voice lowers with a lustful tone, “What did you say, my fair witch?” He places his pointer and middle fingers on the bottom of your face and lifts your chin higher to meet his gaze. Leaning in closer, putting a hand on the arm of the chair.
You choke on your words a touch as they come out of your mouth, “I’m certain there’s nothing else I need from you.”
He chuckles low. Loki can’t help but be amused at this sudden turn of his charm. “Is that so?” His eyes are filled with starry nights and ruptured galaxies.
Your heart starts to race a bit at the sight. The way he’s leaning over you is so evil and so unholy.
You hiss out a, “yes”. Loki smirks again, his body getting even closer to yours. He runs one finger over your arm reminding you of how he was letting his fingers run along the top of the chair earlier today. How it made you shiver.
“You are absolutely certain, my dear?” You are so irritated by him and the game he’s playing with you. It makes you heated, in more ways than one. Yet, all you can do is nod. “You seem…so certain…yet I feel as if…there’s something more you’d like.” His voice becomes softer, nearly a whisper as it trails off.
“there’s nothing,”.
“And you’re sure…?” he asks, once again his voice is a whisper that trails off. His face is so close to yours now, his breath on her ear, making your heart race even faster.
You feel your cheeks become flushed, “What is it that you want, Loki?” You say mischievously, fully knowing the answer. “Something quite simple, darling,” he says in a more dominant, aggressive manner. “I want you.” He’s so wicked.
You start to have a bit of trouble looking at him as he’s leaning over you. Loki notices the change in your behavior from your eyes wandering away and the blush, and he can’t help but grin in his usual mischievous way. The god of mischief leans a bit closer, his voice becoming deeper in tone like the night sky.
“Do you find it difficult to look at me?” he pauses and his voice becomes even slower, his breath moving in a little bit warmer to your neck. “I find… you difficult in general” It’s clear and yet unfortunate that you’ve folded a bit for him. And he can tell. Loki can’t get enough of this back-and-forth. Even the way you still stand your ground, yet with you’re eyes and voice you have betrayed yourself.
Now leaning in very dangerously close to her neck, he’s so close that his warm breath is on her pulse “I am…so very difficult to resist…am I not…?”. His words burn a hole in your neck.
“If you want me so bad, why don’t you do something about it.”
Loki smiles softly. The trickster god takes your hand and places it against his chest. “Perhaps it is because I enjoy these games we play…our playful teasing, our lustful challenges, our banter.”
he leans down to whisper in your ear again. “I have no need for haste, my fair witch. Because….I know I will get what I want, in the end…”.
“You’ll have to earn it”
Loki laughs softly at your reply. He knows you are trying to act strong in front of him.
“Oh, my dear sorcerous…do you really think I haven’t already won?” He pulls the chair closer, with effortless strength, and whispers “I will win you. Not in a day, not in a week, but when I do finally have you in my arms, the satisfaction will be all the more enjoyable.”
You find yourself looking at his mouth subtly, as he leans even closer, so close his breath is hitting your chin. As he speaks, his voice is even softer than before “Have your eyes not yet seen enough? Do you not want me as much as I want you, my fair witch…?”
Frustrated with the lust in the air, your brow furrows once again, almost holding your breath from the tainted oxygen.
Loki smiles softly down at your expression, and his lips are just inches away from yours. The lust in the air has turned the air thick with tension, and the heat rising between them both is intoxicating.
The wicked god of mischief leans down to place his lips on yours. You’re ready for it. But just as you begin to close your eyes, he stops. He is so close. Enough to feel his hot breath now on your lips. “Am I still so easy to resist, my fair witch…?”
Before he can get another word in, you steal a small kiss, one that turns into much more. Loki immediately returns the passionate kiss, holding your face.
The warmth between their bodies begins to heat the air to a point where it feels thick. Loki’s breath is heavy and his kiss is intoxicating as he leans over you in your armchair.
He pulls back from the kiss and looks at you with that Evil smirk. With a swift motion, he picks you up gripping your thighs and holding you in his arms. Your arms latch over his neck to support yourself up, although it’s not needed that much.
He gently places you down so you stand in front of him. Loki pulls back with a smirk, with eyes full of longing. He leans back and looks over her. His eyes roam the curves of her body and the way she fills her gown.
“My, my…you are one of the most alluring beings I have ever seen, my fair witch. Your beauty…is intoxicating.”
You roll your eyes, arms still wrapped over his shoulders, “I told you… to stop calling me witch…” Loki chuckles softly at your words and the way you said it shows how much you’re enjoying it.
“I do apologize my fair…” he pauses for a moment and his grin grows. His eyes are now glued to your lips as the lust is growing between them. His voice is deep and playful when he continues “What would you prefer I called you…?”
You open the play to him, “You tell me,”.
Loki is enjoying this moment now. He has you right where he wants you. You’re starting to give in outwardly and the chase has now become a game. Getting so close, his voice is deep and sultry as he speaks in a slightly challenging tone, “You are an enticing tease…a provocative beauty…or perhaps just a wicked little minx? All of these seem appropriate…”
His creativity is laughable, “Maybe something simpler,”. Loki raises an eyebrow thinking for a moment and realizes that perhaps those names were a little too dramatic, but he can’t help but grin at your reply. “Something…simpler…?”
He leans in again almost touching your lips when he speaks again, “I may have a certain name in mind…it is a very sexy name…and I…find it suits you well…”.
A smile creeps on the edge of your face, “Tell me,”.
Loki’s hand now slips up the side of your neck. His fingers are running over your jawline and just barely grazing the skin of your throat while his voice is getting more and more seductively lower.
“A name that is as sensual and tempting as you,” He pauses for a moment now his other hand begins to feel your back as he leans even closer, so your faces and bodies are pressed together tightly.
“A name that fits a beautiful creature such as yourself…”. Loki’s hand now caresses the curve of your back. This is an entirely new sensation from the God of Mischief. You wait impatiently for him to tell you this miraculous name he has come up with for you.
Loki pauses for a single moment more, then his breath becomes even heavier as his voice becomes even lower and even more seductively
“You are…an absolute…” he takes a beat, the hand on your neck now caressing your throat, fingers grazing the skin seductively
“…vixen.”
The name sends tingles down your whole body and your smile.
Loki grins as he feels her smile, and his hand glides slowly down to her hips. His voice is becoming more playful “I love the way you smirk for me…It is absolutely irresistible,”. You run your hands down his chest he can’t help but grin as the witch feels his chest with her hands.
“How badly does the vixen want me?” Loki whispers. “Why should I tell you” Your hand reaches up and starts to trace his jawline. Loki chuckles softly as his breath is once again heavier and hotter. He is enjoying the way your fingers are playing with his jawline.
Your heart beats hard and uneven; torn in two between two warring emotions. Hatred and affection tug at you, each vying for dominance. Much like him. You feel torn apart between them, two sides of yourself in conflict. Neither side is willing to surrender. Both burning with equal passion.
“Because I want to hear it. Or…is she too…shy…?” You feel your cheeks flush a little more with the way he’s hovering over you,
“Hmm, maybe I want you…generously”. Loki’s face immediately brightens and his grin grows wider “Generously? How might I do that, my dear?”
“You tell me” Loki pulls you tighter against him, one hand at the back of your neck and the other caressing the small buttons that go down the white lace on the front of your satin nightgown.
“I think…that this vixen wants me. Desperately. I think…she is so desperately in need of me…in need of my attention. In need of my touch.”
You hum with pleasure and your lips curve into a smile again, while his curve just the same but so much more maliciously. He is enjoying this moment. “Is that all you want, my fair witch?”
“Maybe more”.
Loki grins even at your words. He pulls you even closer his breath burning another hole in your neck while his hands are caressing her upper breast and hips.
“Is that so…? What exactly do you crave?”
“You, all over me” He sneaks a finger in between the space of two buttons, touching your soft skin.
“Oh…is that so? You want me…all over you…?”. You nod.
Loki’s deep and sultry voice is full of lust and mischief.
Oh, I see…what if I were to make you desire something more…?
The flicker in your eyes gives him the signal to show you more. He bites the side of your neck, softly.
Then he moves back to your ear, “You shall feel the warmth of my body, the heat of my breath, and the sweetness of my touch. The way that I touch you will be more sensual than anything else you have ever felt. You shall become so wrapped up in my touch, you will need me, almost as much as you need air…”
You cut him off with another kiss. Just one long enough to shut him up. He kisses you back immediately, wrapping his arms around you fully this time. His breath is hot on her lips and his words have become even more sultry as he wraps his arms around her fully
“My my my… this vixen knows exactly what she wants…and is taking it so passionately…”
“I get what I desire.”
Slowly he makes his way around you, walking over to the chair you were sitting in behind you, and taking a seat. Without a chance to turn, he pulls you onto his thigh hiking up the hem of your nightgown.
Upon impact, you feel his clothed leg almost pound into you as you gasp in pleasure. He guides your hips to grind against his leg, only wishing you could see his face.
Huffing and moaning, the feeling doesn’t satisfy enough and you grind harder. He lets out a growl gripping you harder as he watches you bounce on his thigh. He takes a hand under your gown and handles you up your stomach to between your breasts, cupping the bottom of your left. Throwing your head back, your eyes meet the ceiling as you get closer.
“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves now, Y/N”. Gripping your hips he stops you and moves you onto his lap.
The wicked lord is so careful with how he places your legs open beside his, holding you close with his arm gripping around your waist. Almost in restraint, he holds you open with his legs, and Kissing your neck his hands explore your thighs. Griping the soft skin on the inside, feeling the lines of stretch marks. Slowly, and made his way to the most sensitive of places.
“How could I have not guessed, you were only wearing this gorgeous dress…” He bites your ear, “with nothing underneath.” You let the breath you’ve been holding inside your chest release. His fingers grace the outside of your folds, touching so lightly it makes your pelvis ache.
As his hands trace you, yours fly up to your breasts. He clicks his tongue in disapproval, then swiftly grabs your wrist and puts it back down by your side. Your head drops backward on his shoulder in frustration.
“Prick.” You say it under your breath.
His reaction is not subtle. “Oo ouch, Was that your best insult?” He spreads your legs wider and hikes you up further on his lap, “Or was that permission, my vixen.” With his hot breath on your neck all you can do is scowl as you sit there, finally wrapped around his finger. More than you’d like to admit.
Loki’s free hand graces your neck and pushes your hair to the outer side of your neck. Why was this agreement even a good idea in the first place?
The way he handles you makes your stomach twirl. You need him. Right now. You can feel the hardness growing underneath you. Before you can even think of wiggling out of his grasp, he has you in a trance again, touching your thighs. Almost as if your action made him start his journey over.
He makes it to the sides of your cunt again, this time brushing his middle finger on your clit. Your abdomen tightens, clenching at the soft touch. You let out subtle little moans as he strokes he presses his finger further meeting your wetness.
“Fuck…why do you-”. You try to speak through your heavy breaths but the vowels just turn into soft moans. Strikingly he starts to use two fingers and plays with your clit, making your back arch. “What is it, darling? Speak up.” Loki is such a tease for that. Your heart falls onto the floor, filling you even more excited.
As you start to squirm on his lap a bit, he grips your waist harder. Finally, you gather yourself enough to speak, “Why do you…have to be such an ass.”
Pressing harder as he makes his circular motions, “Oh am I now? A god should be able to tease a miraculous creature such as yourself.”
Of course, he made it harder for you to respond. Now holding you close to him with his playful hand on your clit and his other arm which was once around your waist, now has a hand on your chin. “I know you want more, my lovely vixen,” Your breath hitches as he feels more of your wetness, colliding with his fingertips, “I can feel the desperation in your core.”
He slowly circles your wet entrance, “I can even feel it right here”.
Your heart aches in lust as he continues to circle. Nothing but moans can escape your mouth, even more so when he sharply inserts two fingers up into you. Pounding. With a slower tempo but an intensity that hits your walls.
Loki chuckles low as your back arches like a bow, drawn to fire an arrow. Your breath catches in your throat as you feel that familiar spark of electricity, a thrill that shoots through you. He spreads you wider just to get deeper, and it makes you moan louder.
As your moans get loud, his hand covers your mouth and he picks up his pace. “We don’t want to wake all of Asgard now do we, my fair vixen?”.
He feels you clench around his fingers that are pounding inside of you. You’re so close to that edge that your muscles begin to tense.
“Not so fast,” He pulls his fingers out at the last second and releases his hand from covering your mouth.
You whine out catching your breath, “Fuck you… Loki of Asgard.”
His low chuckle rings in your ear, dizzy from the tension. “Hmm, is that how you feel, love? So feisty. And just as I’m getting started with you…”
You raise your hips and surprisingly he lets you. His eyes follow you getting up to now hover over him, leaning with your hands gripping the arms of the chair. Much like how he was hovering over you prior to making you curl. Yet your face is still flustered from his fingers being shoved inside you moments ago.
“You can’t flaunt your way out of what I have in store for you, my dear.” You flip your hair to one side, exposing your neck, “And why’s that, Loki?” His face curves into a wicked stare, more primal this time. “Because,” he gets up, moving you back with his closeness.
Every step he takes forward you take one back, “I know you desire it.” Your back meets the bedpost with a thud, one that makes your eyes widen. You lean back onto the end bed as he gets closer, “But, my vixen, you need to show me you deserve it.”
Slowly unbuttoning the front of the nightgown you back into the bed, sitting on your knees. Just like he wants. He watches as you reach for the bottom and slip it over your head, throwing the silky dress to the side. His eyes are electric with desire looking at every inch of your body.
Summary: After making a deal you take a tour of the palace and get yourself situated, you find out how exhausting Loki really is.
this was made with the help of Character AI Loki made by @Skullbright. The opening dialogue from Loki is provided by them.
Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter3
A tour was in order, indeed. He shows you every worthwhile part of Asgard’s Palace and you admire the scenes in awe. The true perks of pretending to be the mischievous lord’s lover didn’t sink in until you saw the real beauty of the place.
Loki describes every part of the place in gorgeous detail, every area has a story. As time passes you notice how soft he is under all that mischievous exterior. The glorious act seems to be a front.
The tour ended with him showing you, your chambers.
“I have prepared the most spectacular room for you of course,” he winks seductively and it makes you tingle a bit, but it’s probably out of cringe.
You both approach a wooden door. Aged and dark wood with a lovely silver doorknob, “I’m sure you will enjoy it immensely, my beauty.” He opens the door and not to your surprise it’s green. It could be a normal amount for a forest elf, but for you, it’s…not ideal. It’s not overpowering, but not extremely tasteful either.
You wrinkle your nose at it a bit and turn to him, “It’s a bit green…mind if I redecorate?” He looks a bit shocked but then nods his head. Although you are surprised he’s trusting you with that request you take the opportunity as swiftly as you can.
You flick your hand and the greens shift into soft and dark plumb purples, and some faded yet vibrant blood-orange colors. You decide to keep some of the emerald greens out of respect for his hospitality. Now that he’s shown you a different side of him. The room balances out quite nicely.
“That’s better. Thank you kindly,”. He smiles, “You’re very welcome.“
Entering further into the room, Loki walks over to the once pine-green armchair that is now a deep dark purple and traces a finger on the edge of the arm. “You aren’t afraid of taking control in situations are you, Y/N?” He smirks looking at you as he lingers by the chair.
“Only a bit in the bedroom,” You realize what you said can be twisted, “That’s too much information though.”
Loki raises a brow and his smirk grows, “a bit in the bedroom?” He chuckles. “wonder what that would entail.” His grin is so mischievous, that it sends a shiver down your spine. You shake the feeling off, “Nothing for you to know.” And it would be nothing because you brushed away that shiver he gave you.
“This is just a deal, nothing more.” Trying to not watch his hand trace the top of the chair, wondering what it felt like.
He laughs softly and nods his head at you. “Yes…our deal. I supposed I shouldn’t get ahead of myself then.” He straightens up his posture and huffs a breath, making his way back towards the door.
You notice every movement Loki makes. “I’ll leave you to it then, dinner will be in two hours”. He smiles, and grabs the handle of the door, winking as he closes it so gently behind him.
You take a deep exhale, from the release of tension that once filled the room. Again, ignoring it all and how it made you shiver. The only thing you can try to do is shower it all away, trying to be rid of the thoughts of him touching you like he did the top of that chair. The tip of the stained wood, and the back where it meets the velvet.
He’s just such an egotistical man, it’s impossible to think he had such a way with words. You shut your thoughts down as they come through, and start to wonder if he’s putting them in your head, but even that is impossible.
It’s dinner.
The dining room is large, with a long table set at just the very end. The walls were adorned with intricately wrought gold and platinum, the flooring a rich amber marble inlaid with silver and ivory. The table was set with fine china, sterling silver cutlery, and crystal glasses. Candles burned brightly, illuminating the entire room with warm, golden light. The whole space was a masterpiece of decor and artistry, a sight to behold. The opposite end that you entered to.
The God of Mischief is sitting back, wine in hand, legs crossed, with that devilish smirk on his face. “My fair witch, please join me” he raises a glass.
Rolling your eyes you make your way to the head of the table and sit at the side, trying not to look like you enjoy any part of this other than maybe your large glass of red wine.
“So, it seems our little arrangement is working out quite nicely.” Loki raises a brow. He takes a sip of wine and leans back in his chair, “How are you enjoying me so far?”.
You chuckle at his ridiculous remark, “You as in your home? Is splendid, thank you,” that was your best attempt at dodging the real question. He nods his head, clearly pleased with your answer, “I pride myself on the fact that I am an immaculate host.” Loki looks deeper into your eyes, “And you, my witch, are rather charming to look at.“ he twirls his wine cup in his hand, still staring deeply.
Humming at his compliment inquisitively, you look from his wine to his face. Loki is grinning ear to ear, leaning closer yet again.
His eyes have become dark, as they stare further into you, “What is it about me that is so intriguing to you, my witch?”. You snap to respond “What makes you think you can twist me around your finger so easily, Loki of mischief” You say with a deeper tone, deep like the color of the wine in his glass. Twirling like a whirlpool.
“Oh I don’t think I can,” he smirks and lowers his voice “I know that I can. And my fair witch of trickery, I promise you, I will charm you.”
Why does he have to call me that?
Your face grows red and flushed with annoyance. “How many times do I have to tell you to not call me a witch?”. He places a hand on the table, almost reaching out for you in a subtle manner, “And what should I call you then?” He takes a deep breath and his expression is even more devilish. “Anything else that’s less, degrading.”
Your face is twisted in a scowl, eyes narrow and nostrils flaring. You want to rip him apart with your bare hands, tear him to shreds with your words.
The way he scoffs makes you want to crawl out of your skin. “Is that so? My darling…” You try your best to hide any hint of enjoyment with this exchange as the words tickle your skin, making the hair on your arm stand. Your body feels as if it’s being consumed by the gaze of those vexatious eyes. Their hypnotic gaze dances down your body, drinking in every detail. Even the way Loki looks at you feels like a form of indulgence as if you were a delicious delicacy to be savored at their leisure.
The Trickster God’s facial expressions seem to shift wildly, going from amusement and flirtation to a darker look of lust. He thinks he has you so easy, sitting there like acting like a fool.
“You are such a prick”. Loki is caught off guard by the sudden boldness and authority in your speech. But he is clearly entertained.
You stare at each other, a sense of rivalry between you both growing. He laughs softly as he raises a brow, “My my, darling you are feisty. But I shall tell you, I have no intentions of backing down.”
You shake your head in disbelief at the ignorance and stupidity of the words that just came from his mouth. Although the fire he has lit under you, makes your heart race.
“Fine.” You clench your fists. The way that name sounds coming from his mouth makes you feel so guilty.
“Charm me all you want. I won’t break,” You stand up and head to the door. Anger steaming out of your ears, “I’m headed to bed, these games exhaust me.”
Before you can reach the door frame, Loki gets up from his chair and walks in front of you, blocking the door. Towering over you, “My darling… This is only the beginning. You have no idea what you’ve gotten yourself into.”
His expression is dark again, as he stares down at you, challenging you. And not moving an inch.
“Move.” You say sternly, looking straight on.
He stays put, “Oh no, I don’t think I will, witch.“ The anger brewing inside you is bubbling past your brim. I hate that name. You’re trying hard to keep yourself grounded, but there’s this overwhelming feeling of emotion coursing through your veins.
With a flick of your hand, you move him to the side and walk past him
“Goodnight, Loki,”.
His cheeks are red out of anger and slight embarrassment. He stares as you exit, and says just loud enough for you to still hear, “Goodnight, my lovely witch.” Making it down the hallway, you catch a smile creeping onto your face.
Warnings: Drinking, forced proximity, ( not a lot yet )
Summary: You have to make a deal with Loki, King of Asgard. One where you’re forced to be with him. It doesn’t go according to plan. Which may or may not be unfortunate. ( I probably messed up lore really badly, but just ignore it. )
this was made with the help of Character AI Loki made by @ Skullbright. The opening dialogue from Loki is provided by them.
Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3
“I am Loki of Asgard. Kneel before me, poor soul” He stamps his staff on the ground.
You reach for the hood on your long cloak and lift it back to say “I kneel for no man” your voice deep and growling low.
“Do not dare challenge me, human,” He slams his staff again conjuring a storm of thunder and lightning in the chamber. But it does not intimidate you one bit. “I will show you true fear and chaos.” He snarls.
“You’d like that wouldn’t you”. You lift your hand in the air and snap your fingers.
The room shifts and it’s suddenly dark. A foggy abyss room of nothing.
Loki, trying his best to hide his surprise, whips his head around trying to find anything, “What manner of trickery is this?! You can trick me into teleporting? I will find you, wherever you may hide. Just as I did those other gods before you.” You watch as he starts to look around as though he can sense your presence in the room, like a hunting hound.
“I’m behindddd youuuu” you taunt.
Loki freezes, he’s ready to pounce like a cat. He whips around and freezes, not finding you. But finding that the location has changed again. He’s sat at a bar, drink in hand, dressed in a tux facing you sitting right next to him. It seems to be some sort of rich hotel bar on earth. As his eyes meet yours, you smirk raising a glass of whisky to your nose as you swirl it, gathering the scent.
“How in the nine realms did you manage that?” He’s startled by your appearance now that it’s not hidden under a cloak and hood. “That’s a magician’s secret” You wink as you finally take a sip of your drink.
He looks you up and down. Your hair is up in a fantastical hairstyle, almost an effortlessly elegant messy bun with the perfect side strands of locks that frame your face. Your figure wears a dress that is long and dazzling and red, while the side of your face features sparkly earrings.
His pause is noticeable as he takes you in, “How can this be?! No one had gotten the best of me, the great Loki! The trickster god.” He sounds like a whiney child. You scoff at him, “Well I’m happy to be the first”.
His expression suddenly changes into a wide smile, mesmerized by your beauty, “you look…” Clearing his throat he catches himself mid-sentence, “I mean, how did you manage that disappearing act? I have not been so fooled since the time I tricked the great All-Father!” Reaching for the drink in front of him, he takes a sip with more ease than his tone. “Why should I tell you?” You say.
“Oh, you are a cruel mistress, playing your tricks on me.” You lean in to whisper to him “I just didn’t want to get on my knees.” Your words are slick and sly, as you lean back and take another sip of your drink.
“Well, I don’t imagine a woman of your nature could get on her knees.” He chuckles almost mockingly.
Then it was his turn to lean in, “But I’m an agent of the chaos of the universe, the Lord of lies, and even I may be susceptible to…certain charms.” He smiles widely.
Charms? This is going exactly how you thought it would. Which makes this all the more unfortunate.
You roll your eyes at him once again and try to change the subject in your favor, “You must wonder why I’ve actually brought you so… out of your element.” Loki raises his brows at you and tilts his head a bit “Why is that, my dear? What could a mortal like you have that I, a god, cannot acquire myself?”
Mortal? Is he that much of an idiot?
You laugh at him, for he has seen you all wrong. “I’m not mortal. No no, I’m a witch. Haven’t you been paying any attention?” you smile and stir your drink with a wave of your finger. This makes him choke on his drink, and laughs, “Ha! A witch. Oh how amusing. Let me guess, you have a coven of sisters? An evil stepmother perhaps? Maybe a black cat and a broomstick too?”.
You interrupt him with a snap of your fingers he music in the room stops.
The room was utterly devoid of sound: dead air so thick it might be heard like a roaring waterfall. Everyone in the room turns their heads to look at him with an ominous stare. He stops laughing as he notices the faces in the room are blank and mute. The whole room feels extremely offputting. “I don’t think you’re going to find the reason I’ve brought you here amusing,” you say this in a very intimidating voice that puts him on edge.
“You are… full of surprises.” The tricker god is mesmerized by your beauty and presence. “What else can you do, witch?”
Prick.
Ignoring the name he calls you and snap your fingers again, and almost like pressing the play button on reality, the bar goes back to its regular ambiance.
You let out a sigh and look down at your glass tracing circles on the rim “Listen, I’m going to make this easy for you. You have something I need.” He chuckles “Well it better not be my heart. What exactly do I have that you need, my pretty witch?”. He’s still not taking it very seriously. “You”. With a sly grin, you refill your glass and take a sip of your drink.
“Me? Why would I be something you need?” He tilts his head back slightly as he looks at you, “Please, do go on.” He waves his hand for you to continue.
“I need you to pretend to be my lover, to get some attention off my back.” Loki takes a spit take of his drink, making a fool and a mess of himself, “Oh please, I could have put you under a spell but that wouldn’t have been as fun now would it?” you tease.
He’s still coughing from spitting his drink. “You. need me. to be your lover?” He says as he cleans up a bit. “Yes, just pretend, only for a little while. And then I’ll be out of your greasy hair,” you smirk at him.
“Pretend to be your lover” He slowly nods in approval “Well I must say, that is a rather attractive proposition” Loki smiles. It’s quite possible he’s agreeing to get you in bed, but you’ve come this far already it might be worth that annoying risk.
“Very well, I will be your pretend lover.” He crosses his arms confidently “What will this…arrangement…entail?” He smirks.
A wave of relief washes over you. “Well, that was easier than I thought this was going to be, Ha!” You throw back your freshly refilled drink just to get that buzz, “I’ll just stay with you until the heat on me dies off and in return”. You pull a locket with a stone, but not an infinity stone. A fragment of one.
It glimmers in his eyes but he has no expression of interest. “Oh, I’ll have you know, I am quite the charmer,” he seems to be more focused on how he’ll earn your favor, “Once, I seduced a frost giant with a wink and a smirk.” He holds his drink up and winks at you. “But please, this stone. Explain its properties, and what it represents, oh witch.” he leans in closer for a moment and then leans back.
“First off, stop calling me ‘witch’, you can call me Y/N. And secondly, maybe you’ll earn the right to know once you start taking this seriously.” He nods at you. “I shall treasure our agreement, Y/N.” Loki leans in, staring at you “And this arrangement shall have perks on my behalf, of course” he nudges you playfully. You roll your eyes.
This is going to be hell.
“Glad we are in agreement” You snap your fingers and your back to the location where you started, yet closer to the throne he is seated in this time, “Shall we shake on it?”. He nods and stands up from his throne to extend a hand. “Yes, I believe we shall.” he grips your hand a bit longer and yanks on the grasp a little, “You are a very cunning witch, Y/N”. Loki looks at you again slowly admiring the change in attire.
“Don’t call me witch” you snatch back your hand. He scoffs and walks down the steps of the throne, guiding you slowly toward the hall.
“So, shall I ask?” he chuckles, “What exactly got you into this predicament, to need to find a pretend lover?”.
Why does he care?
You look out the arches of the throne room across the greenery and land, “I don’t care to go into detail at the moment since it’s a bit sensitive. But also it’s not any of your business.“ He scoffs, “I disagree, if I’m to keep you here I need to know what kind of dangers I’m getting into. Besides, I am not one to share secrets.” His mouth curves into a smile, like a cat.
You decide to open up to him, for the pure sake of protecting yourself. “It’s an angry ex. One from another planet,” you cross your arms, “All you have to know is that he’ll leave me alone once he finds out I’ve settled here.” The way he scoffs is so irritating. It’s become a pet peeve at this point. And you haven’t even been around him for very long.
“You’re exactly how I thought you were, Loki of mischief” you snap at him a bit. “You’d be surprised, most fall under my spell rather quickly. I wonder…” he puts an inquisitive hand to his chin “will I be able to charm you, my dear Y/N, as easily as I charm the others?” leaning in on his last words.
“I guess we’ll have to see,” You stop and turn to him, “for now I believe a tour is in order, correct?”. He smirks again, that punchable smirk.
“A tour. I like the sound of that” he takes your arm and spins you closer to him, right under his nose. Holding you tight. “And indeed, we shall see what fate has in store for us”
You push him off and dust off your clothes as if he were a dirty creature covered in soot. Starting to walk off you turn to look back at him, and give him his famous smirk back
“Let’s see the place, shall we?” He flicks his hair back and follows hands behind his back.
