Omg you’re taking requests for Loki!! Can I pls request jealous Loki / little boy pulling on little girl’s pigtails / realising he’s attracted to his partner (or all of the above)? Love your work!
Yes!! He is a bit mean in this which I’m not used to writing, hopefully it’s not too badly worded.
Summary: David resents you for frustrating him and disrupting his peace of mind. You confront him about it during a work session and he finally comes to terms with the problem at hand.
Warnings: David being rude, degradation, dom!David, masturbation, piv sex, unprotected sex.
Notes: I have a thing for office settings.
Catching feelings wasn’t something David ever thought he’d actually do. The only time he recalled ever liking someone was in grade school, but that was nothing compared to now.
Though, at the time, David didn’t know what the feeling was. He just knew it was strong. It felt like he was itching for a cigarette or never getting a break in a case. A kind of frustration that never seemed to settle.
The person responsible for this was you. And it would be a lie to say he didn’t hold resentment against you for it. But you had disrupted his world, and even more so when you began working on a case together.
One morning as David was walking from his car to the station, he saw you getting dropped off. You went around to the driver’s side and kissed the driver through the rolled-down window. And as if it couldn’t get any worse, you two were supposed to stay late at the office that night, going through suspects.
David ignored you all day. You never understood why he was so cold to you and just rounded it up to him being antisocial. But you had a feeling there was something more; sometimes he stared at your legs, your thighs, but sometimes he’d glare at you like you were a fly clinging to his windshield.
You sat down in one of the conference rooms and laid out the documents you had gathered so far. Arrest papers, search warrant findings, headshots, testimonies, and alibis.
“Did you see it’ll be snowing tomorrow?” you said, trying to initiate some sort of small talk. You couldn’t stand the silence. “I didn’t,” David mumbled back, uninterested. “I can’t wait to stay in, watch a movie, and have a cup of tea,” you continued and got a hum in response. He really didn’t like you.
“Have I done something?” you asked, obviously frustrated. David finally looked up at you, shrugged, and said, “No.”
“Because it seems like you don’t like me,” you let out. Maybe a stupid thing to say, but this tension made you want to rip your hair out. “Sometimes you just piss me off,” David finally said something of substance. It took you aback; you weren’t one known for causing trouble exactly. “When have I been anything but nice?” You were getting fired up by this conversation.
David rubbed his eyes. He didn’t actually know how to respond; you were right about that. “I just don’t love the way you walk around in those skirts like you’re some pretty little thing worthy of attention or when you tap your nails on the desk while we’re working or when you kiss your boyfriend in the parking lot.” He almost felt out of breath, while yours had gotten caught in your throat.
“First of all, sorry about my tapping. I’ll work on that. Second of all, that wasn’t my boyfriend; that was my sweet grandma, whom I kissed on the cheek and thanked for the drive. And lastly, I wear these skirts to look put together, not to impress anyone.” You could feel how your eyebrows furrowed as you spoke.
David smiled meanly. “Yeah, because I’m sure you hate it when our colleagues drool as you walk in, flaunting your legs.” This was meant as an insult, you understood that, but it didn’t hit you as one. “Like you don’t,” you chuckled at his hypocrisy. David brushed his fingers through his hair; a few strands fell in his face. You almost felt bad for him; this seemed to stress him out for real.
A pause. “Hey, I’m sorry,” you said, your voice less harsh than before. “No, you’re right,” David sighed. “And you do look nice in your skirts; they just frustrate me.” You couldn’t help but widen your eyes a bit. Surely, he didn’t mean it like that. Frustrated can mean thousands of things. You crossed your legs and noticed how this meeting didn’t leave you unbothered.
“Thank you,” you mumbled. “But how is it frustrating exactly?” You couldn’t hold back; if you did, you would stay up all night wondering what he meant by it. David had never actually thought about it, and he realized then that it was because he didn’t want to know. The itching feeling wasn’t him wanting to tear you to shreds; it was him wanting to bend you over the desk. When it dawned on him, it was as if someone had upped the thermostat and turned the conference room into a sauna. He didn’t realize how long he was quiet for, but you did. His mind seemed to go elsewhere, and he unbuttoned his shirt around the neck.
This was a problem for you. Attention from older men. You unintentionally smiled. “I don’t mind,” you let him know. It was like a switch went off in him, and his nerves went out the window. “Come here then.” He scooted his chair away from the table, giving you enough space to stand in front of him. You caught on and walked up to him. It was almost humiliating how he didn’t even bother to look up at you but kept his gaze fixed on your body.
His large hands instinctively went to grope your thighs. He hummed to himself as he squeezed and massaged them. He hardened in his slacks and shifted in his chair. You stood still as he felt you up, unsure of what to do. A low, quiet moan slipped out when his hands groped your ass instead. This was getting dangerous.
David got up and ordered you to turn around. You laid your torso on the desk, your hips in the air. Your skirt flipped up, and a calloused finger ran over your panties. Your mind was spinning with dirty thoughts and all the reasons this was wrong. Thoughts that died when your panties were pulled to the side and his finger pushed down on and rubbed your clit. You accidentally grabbed onto, scrunching, one of the documents as he made his circles against you.
You heard a zipper being undone. And then short, strained breaths and the sound of skin moving against skin. “This is why I can’t stand you,” David muttered from above, “pretending to be all professional when it’s obvious you’re a fucking slut.” Your thighs clenched, and you blushed at his words. Feeling as if you had gotten caught with something.
David spat on his cock before spreading it with his hand, grunting as he twisted around his head. You felt his tip touch your entrance, and you mentally prepared for the stretch. And thank God you did.
You couldn’t help but whine as he stretched you out, only stopping once his pelvis hit your skin. He sighed in relief, feeling some of his pent-up anger running off his back. He thrust out and in again slowly, making you huff in unsatisfaction. “Like you haven’t been torturing me,” David reminded you. Reminded you that this wasn’t without reason.
You clenched your jaw, feeling his cock drawing out of you slowly, only to do it over again. “Please,” you mumbled helplessly. “Why should I?” David responded, secretly loving this control over you. “I’ll be really good and not tempt you anymore, I promise,” you rambled; what was true or not didn’t matter, as long as it got you where you wanted.
“You better.” David slammed into you. Both pain and pleasure washed over you. His new pace was much better, faster, and greedier. His thrusts were followed by short grunts that grew louder as he went on. His nails dug into your hips, stinging your warm skin.
Your legs felt like giving out, but you held out. This was your punishment, and you weren’t going to bitch about it. You felt your orgasm approaching, getting closer with each time David let out a moan or mumbled how good you felt. Insane how he was chattier during sex than during your lunch breaks.
You warned David, “I’m close.” He followed with a “me too.” His thrusts became more punctuated and harder as he chased both your orgasms. And when yours approached and you clamped around him, you heard a whimper from above. You could feel yourself pulsating as David stalled in you, filling you up.
David was the first to move. He tucked himself back in his pants and ran to grab a paper towel. He wiped away his cum that seeped out of you, trying to save the carpet flooring. You thought it was sweet.
You went to the bathroom afterward (very important if you don’t want a UTI). Your face was all flushed and hot. You splattered some cold water on your face to calm down.
When you got back, David had his nose in the documents. His work morale was unmatched. You sat opposite him, sorting through the now scattered papers. You figured he wasn’t going to say anything until you did. “I really needed that,” you said, hoping he wouldn’t ignore you.
“Not the only one,” he responded and even smiled at you.
