Crap Ass Stories

Maybe I’ll get to writing one of these days, maybe. REQUEST OPEN

[lucifers-clown]

Masterlist :)

Lucifer Morningstar

-

Stood Up

Dance Lessons

Pretty Little Picnic

A Touch of Normalcy

Bring Her Home

I Wish I Was Here.

Stop Babying Me

Oh Lucifer

Round Two

Promises

Shithead

Daddy’s Girl

Blarg

Fragile Baby

Honey

Stop That

You’re my Star

Unhinged

Golden

[hes-writer]

One of My Own

Summary: Harry falls out of love with Y/N

Warnings: angst!

Word Count: 3.1k

Based on: Y/N and H being a couple for a long while, however, H falls for someone else and that person turns out to be Y/N’s sister. @littledreamybeth

Keep reading

[mclennonyaoi]

death crab for cutie

[mclennonyaoi]

the postal shellfish

[notahorseindisguise]

[mclennonyaoi]

sure . why not . get this guy in on it

[samswinchesters]

Tom Hiddleston as LOKI

[thedevilsoftruth-deactivated202]

True Romance ~ Loki x Fem! Reader

Warning: Smut with Plot? Abuse mentions, Dom! Loki, Cheating mentions, implied murder

Summary: After escaping the hands of your absuive husband who had attempted to murder you, you fall back into the arms of Loki who you had been having a secret relationship with long before you were married. Notes: I wrote this a really long time ago so I hope everyone enjoys it. Sorry I haven’t really been posting, been busy lately!

The warm feeling of a fire being lit around you had brought you back to consciousness. your head throbbed and your stomach ached. You sat up, your blanket falling off your shoulders while you held yourself upright with your right arm. Where were you? Home — but this couldn’t be home. Home didn’t have a fireplace. You grabbed the soft fabric of blanket and looked around yourself. Your head felt heavy and your throat burned.

“ careful. you’ll hurt yourself. “ a soft voice was heard from the side. you turned you graze to look at the man who suddenly emerged from the shadows. You recognized the man immediately as Loki, one of Odins sons and a personal friend of yours since childhood.

“ mm.. Loki? “ you muttered his name, watching him approach you slowly with his heels clicking against the floor. you shifted your hips to comfortably position yourself but then tipped sideways and fell off the couch, your body making a loud thump sound as it hit the floor. Your chest felt like there was something in it that was trying o prevent you from breathing. You whimpered at the feeling and then looked up to see Loki was crouched down besides you.

“ You came to the palace in the middle of a snow storm, talking frantically about something of your husband before you passed out from the cold. “ He pressed the back of his hand against your forehead, his skin was warm compared to yours. You tried to remember what had happened, but all you remembered was a foggy memory of falling into Lokis embrace after explaining something to him in a panic.

“ You had bruises all over you, your clothes had rips and tears in it and your face looked swollen. “ he said, cupping your cheek in his hand as he recalled how you looked when you first arrived. Your brows knitted together and you let out a soft grunt in pain. “ Loki, what happened? “ you mumbled, wanting to move someplace comfortable but everything hurt. He cupped your other cheek and then leaned down to kiss your soft lips. “ worry not, my love. “ he whispered as he pulled away slowly, his eyes never leaving yours. “ you’re safe here. “ he pulled you up so you could lay in his lap comfortably. You looked into the fire, something about the crackling noises reminded you of something though you couldn’t remember.

“ Loki, my head hurts. “ you whined, leaning against the god for support as you massaged your temples. Loki hummed and then conjured you a cold glass of water. he placed it in your hand and you grabbed hold of it, twisting it around in your fingers to examine the clear liquid in it. “ Drink it, it’ll help. “ Loki urged, his piercing green eyes never wavered from your face, their intensity capturing your attention. It was as if he could see the pain etched into every crease on your forehead, and he longed to alleviate it.

Bringing the glass to your lips, you took a small sip, the refreshing liquid gliding down your throat. The coolness spread through your body, momentarily distracting you from the throbbing ache in your head. You set the glass down next to you somewhere and stared back into his beautiful eyes.

“ He was jealous. “ he chuckled, holding you in his embrace tighter. His gaze shifted to the fire and a look of satisfaction came across his face. He looked content. But you didn’t know what he was talking about, all you knew was he was your love and you were safe with him.

Lokis gaze shifted back to you and his content expression faded. He leaned down and softly kissed your delicate lips. His warm lips on yours felt like bliss at this time. Though you didn’t comprehend what was going on, a certain feeling of desire was washing up inside you and you couldn’t help but kiss your supposed love back. His cold hand ran up sneaked up your neck, supporting your head so he could kiss you deeper. He pulled away from your lips and sighed, moving himself down until he reached your lower abdomen.

With veiny big hands, he ruffled your White silky nightgown down so he could spread your legs apart. He chuckled softly as raised your leg, his lips coming in contact with your soft thigh. He stared at your through his brows, his green eyes twinkling with desire.

“ did you miss me? “ he cooed seductively, trailing kisses down your leg. You closed your eyes tightly and bit back a moan, feeling heat rise to your cheeks. The familiar feeling of lips and hands all over you came back to you once again like nostalgia. Lokis hands slipped under your panties, skillfully stripping them off your legs before hungrily inching towards the wetness in between your legs.

He hummed and lowered his head down in your sweet cunt, his tongue gliding against your slick folds. Just like the other times when he would make love to you by the fireplace or elsewhere, this moment was all too familiar to you.

The crackling fire cast dancing shadows across the room, its warm glow illuminating the intimate scene before you. Every detail, every sensation, was heightened as Loki's lips and hands worshipped your body with an intensity that both excited and terrified you. His touch was electrifying, igniting a fire within you that threatened to consume your very being.

"Mmm, it looks like you certainly have missed me," Loki murmured against your wetness, his warm breath sending shivers down your spine. The vibrations traveled throughout the sensitive flesh of your sex, causing your breath to hitch in anticipation. Your fingers gripped the fabric beneath you, your body trembling with desire.

His finger slipped inside your entrance, gently prodding around with the tip. A low moan escaped your lips, as you arched your back, craving more of his intoxicating touch. He read your body like a symphony, his movements perfectly orchestrated to elicit pleasure beyond your wildest imagination.

"I just want to feel myself deep inside you again," he moaned, his voice laced with need and desire. With a deliciously slow pace, he added a second digit, stretching you gently. Your hips instinctively rose to meet his touch, your body aching for more. As his fingers delved deeper, his eyes locked with yours, a subtle smile playing upon his lips.

The sensation of his teeth grazing your thigh sent shockwaves of pleasure cascading through you. Your muscles trembled and spasmed, your inner walls clenching around his fingertips. His eyes darkened and his tongue snaked out to moisten his upper lip before returning to bite at your skin. But Loki couldn’t take it anymore, he needed you so bad after months of being torn away from you. He pulled out of you and magicked his way out of his clothes quickly.

His pale body stood proudly before you, his dark curls covered a part of his face. His skin glowed as the flames in the fireplace danced and lit the dark room. The lighting outlined his every muscle and curve, making him to look even more gorgeous as he hovered above you.

" Loki, " you mumbled his name as he cradled you in his arms again, his big hands running up and down your back. " i missed you so much. " you spoke in hushed tone, your head resting comfortably against his broad shoulders. His arms wrapped tightly around your waist, pulling you closer against him. " I missed you too, baby.“ Loki whispered in your ear,

kissing your head tenderly. His fingers pulled down the zipper of your nightgown until your full back was exposed. You let the sleeves run off your shoulders, the torso part of the dress dropping and raveling your exposed chest. Your breath hitched at the sudden coldness on your chest, goosebumps starting to form on your arms.

Loki laid you back down carefully, his bare body hovering over yours, hands on the bottom of your dress and pulling it off of you. Now you were both exposed to each other yet again, naked bodies pressed together like magnets. Your true love was him, not some guy who you were forced to marry that didn’t even love you. It was like only Loki was fit to love you. You could see the depths of his devotion reflected in those green eyes, a promise of unwavering commitment that sent shivers down your spine.

"You are mine, and mine alone," Loki's voice was a low rumble, laced with a possessive edge that both thrilled and comforted you. His lips descended upon yours, claiming them with a hunger that reminded you that you were in fact only his. He moved his hips closer to yours, his pre-cum lubricated tip grazing against your wet opening. A small plea escaped your lips as you dig your fingers into the carpet, bucking your hips with anticipation. He chuckled and slowly pushed himself into your entrance, groaning at the stretch. He buried his face in your neck and his pulsating memeber unhurriedly stroked your tight core.

There was something about this moment that was far more passionate than any other times you had sneaked off with Loki to have sweet, wall slamming intercourse with him. Both of your moans filled the air and his cock stretched farther and farther into your warmth, his hips moving against your and your friction driving him mad. Your fingers curled into his long, black curls and he seemed unfazed at how hard you were tugging.

“ so tight, god I just want to hear you scream. “ His voice was low and sultry as he nipped your skin gently, sucking on it. You threw your head back, letting out more loud and needy moans as we worked you into a fenzy. Loki pulled your head back up by the hair and planted a kiss onto your plump pouty lips, watching you take him in like the good girl you were. His free hand lowered down to your knee, grabbing it and spreading your legs as far as they could so he could really hurry himself deep within you. You breathing was becoming ragged, your mind becoming contaminated with the feeling of the moment. At that moment all you needed was for him to tear you apart until you were nothing.

A burning sensation was building up in your core, growing wider and stronger by the minute as he dived deeper into you.

“ fuck, min kjære… moan for me, baby. “ he rasped out hoarsely, His lips trailing down to your neck, biting on the spot below your ear lobe. You cried out softly as another wave of pure ecstasy washed over you like the heavy rain washing out filth. Your eyes rolled back in your head and your body arched in anticipation, your nails digging into his scalp as your body trembled in ecstasy. You were so lost in the rapture of the moment that you hadn’t even realized that Loki had picked you up moments ago. Your legs were tightly wrapped around his waist for support, your fingers still curled into his hair. As he carried you effortlessly, his body pressed against yours, the sensation only intensified.

The room seemed to spin around you, the only stable force in your world being Loki's strong arms and the unyielding connection between your bodies. The air crackled with electricity, thick with desire and passion. Every movement, every touch, was a testament to the unbreakable bond between you.

His hands, which had previously gripped your thighs, now guided your hips up and down on his member. Your bodies moved in perfect sync, a dance of ecstasy that transcended the physical realm. The sensation of being lifted and held by him only added to the intensity, the raw power of the moment coursing through your veins.

You could feel every inch of him inside you, molding you with his shaft like it was a piece of art. Your hands abandoned his scalp and found purpose on his shoulders, grasping into his skin for support as he thrashed into you. The burning sensation only grew, and you felt yourself inching closer to complete and utter pleasure. Loki threw you back down on the couch, grabbing your legs and throwing them over his shoulders before diving back into your sopping core.His fingers curled into a fist in your hair, his eyes staring down at yours hungrily like you were his prey. You felt yourself choking on your own moans at that point, the pressure becoming too much to handle. Your body shook violently, and a guttural cry left your throat as Loki began to hit your special spot. Your eyes shut and you screamed in euphoria, hands grabbing onto his forearms and pleas just begging him to keep going. He chuckled and moved back a bit before rolling his hips

“ you like that? “ he said seductively, his pace slowing down a bit. you whined and craned your head back again. “ please, loki… “ you moaned, eyes shutting tight and back arching for more contact. “ please what? “ “ please… don’t stop. “ you whimpered, your plea a desperate cry that echoed through the room. The ache between your legs intensified, a mix of pleasure and pain that drove you to the edge of sanity. Every movement, every thrust, pushed you further into a state of ecstasy that bordered on madness. A devilish smile danced across Loki's lips, his eyes gleaming with mischief and satisfaction. He leaned down, pressing a tender kiss to your calf, a contrast to the raw desire that fueled his movements. Without hesitation, he plunged back into you, his hips thrashing with an unrestrained fervor. The sensations that consumed you were overwhelming, a whirlwind of pleasure that threatened to tear you apart. Your body convulsed with each powerful thrust, your moans mixing with the sound of skin slapping against skin. Every nerve in your body was on fire, igniting a craving that could only be sated by him as he repeatedly hit your sensitive spot. Then, with one final scream of pure bliss, you reached your peak all over his soft memeber.

Your moans slowly died out as your release hit you as hard an earthquake, leaving you gasping for air. Loki smiled smugly, loving the way you moaned and screamed underneath him.

“ you know, “ thrust. “ it should have been me who you were married to in the first place. “ he was over stimulating you now. He chortled lowly and let his head fall back as he continued to pump in you even after you had already reached your high. “ but- ugh- my fathers an asshole and wanted me to marry someone successful. “ he explained the story you knew all too well. After his fathers disproval, you were married off to a man named Arthur who you barely knew but you still stayed in a relationship with Loki. However your husband had found out and you were kept away from seeing anyone for months before he had an out burst and attempted to murder you. Everytging came back to you clearly, even though it was something you didn’t want to think about. Surely you had sinned by cheating, but you didn’t even love your husband to begin with. Loki was correct, it should hav been him that was your husband.

“ Ah! Loki, s-stop… t-too much “ you whined, even though he wasn’t going as fast as before. Loki gave you a fake pout. “ I thought you said you didn’t want me to stop. “ he teased with a chortle, increasing his speed like before and slamming against your skin. You panted, choking on your own moans and cries because the pressure was too much. Your legs fell off his shoulder from lack of support and your eyes rolled back into your sockets from being pushed too far off the edge.

“ min kjære… fuck “ he groaned in ecstasy, grabbing your legs and moaning as his long awaited climax finally hit him. He groaned loudly as his hot seed filled you to the brim, his body becoming numb at the feeling.

Loki bent over and gave your lips a soft peck. “ it’s been so long since I’ve been able to do that. “ he said against your lips. you nodded in agreement and pulled away.

“ I love you, Loki. “ “ I love you too, y/n. I will never let that man lay another finger on you, I promise. “ and he meant that, alright.

~~~

The full moon shine above Asgard, illuminating it with a beautiful blue hue. Loki looked at the empty living room through the open window, his body crouched in the frame of the window as he searched for his target. He hopped inside, his asgardian blades in his hands as he prepared for combat. He stealthily walked on his toes, peering over the lofty backrest, and there, sprawled in a state of pitiful vulnerability, laid his target. In a seamless motion, Loki bends over the plush cushions of the couch bringing his frigid blade to the neck of his hapless adversary.

"Hello, Arthur."

[lokihiddleston]

request by @startswithsnowflakes

[lokihiddleston]

🥹...

[ijuststareatstuffhereok89]

Hello, my dear, I see that your requests are open so may I throw in my own request?

Okay here it is... how about a fic where reader is moving in with Loki in the Asgardian palace and she gets lost somewhere and starts wandering endlessly before she finds a door and beyond the door, she finds Loki!

I purposefully left the details of what is behind the door out so you could do it! Could be a garden, just his rooms or a secret portal to a comfort place! Let your imagination run wild!

I love you and your work!

~LRM

“An Oasis”- A Prince!Loki x Reader one shot

Summary: Prince Loki brought you to Asgard as his lover in order to protect you from the looming threat of Midgard’s destruction. Unfortunately, the end of your world may be less terrible than the taunts and sneers of the jealous Asgardians targeting you for being brought into their pristine, perfect, eternal realm. Lost and afraid, you find yourself desperate for comfort, for solace, perhaps for a place where you can be fully alone to enjoy Loki’s affections…

Pairing: Prince!Loki x Reader Genre: Angst, fluff Content Warning: Detailed descriptions of war and speculative IRL apocalyptic events, Reader is heavily bullied (specifically, fatphobia), getting physically lost, descriptions of panic attack symptoms, angst, fluffy ending Word Count: 2.9k

When the bombs began to fall around your home, you couldn’t believe your fortune, as silly as it sounded, for it just so happened that you were in love… 

…and love would ultimately save your life. 

Loki, Prince of Asgard and occasional visitor to Earth (or Midgard, as he called it), had discovered you, alone in the world and working a dead-end job, and found himself fascinated with a mortal for the first time in his life. You could keep him engaged with deep conversation for days without rest, and in turn, he amused you with his wit and flirtations. 

Of course, his looks didn’t hurt either. You weren’t sure if it was his shiny, cascading black hair that glistened in the sun, or his radiant grin that somehow could be inviting and threatening all at once, or his musculature, promising safety or sensual delight depending on what you asked for. Perhaps it was how he chose to dress in tight leather leggings and dazzling armor whenever he was in public, like a proud peacock bragging his aesthetic superiority to the entire city. Whatever feature it was that finally triggered your need for his touch, you quickly lost track of the blurring world around you as your bond with Loki tumbled deeper and deeper into love before you knew it. 

Meanwhile, the world around you was crumbling, a decaying testament to the follies of humanity. The missiles became stronger, the discourse more extreme. Russia had shoved through Ukraine (to much global weeping), and now they’d decided to try on Romania for size. In the States where you lived, the extreme right-wing parties had succeeded in warping the federal system to ensure their constant supermajority in DC, and now they were nearing completion on turning your country into a theocracy. 

The sweeping love story you had with the Prince of Asgard was your inner sanctum, and you were thankful, for most others didn’t have such a profound shelter in the bosom of their true love to retreat to at night. 

However, Loki had one day had enough.

 “I will not see my mistress living and dying under these conditions that stupid mortals have put before her,” he insisted sternly, only quickly answering your questions as he prepared you for a new life in his palace. On the news, things had escalated in Europe, and now the government was handing out brochures and advisory messages about fallout shelters and life after an apocalyptic event. You and Loki hadn’t said as much to one another, but you both knew the missiles were coming, and that Midgard’s days were numbered.

Finally, two missiles had launched, and one had landed less than three hundred miles from your city. It was that minute, as the people out on the street below your apartment began to scramble in panic, that Loki took you into his arms and called out for Heimdall to open the Bifrost for you. His heavy, muscled arms refused to allow you breath, as if loosening his grip would make you fall through them. You felt him hyperventilate as you traveled through the realms, finally landing at the gates of Asgard to a bewildered gatekeeper. 

“My Prince, may I ask who the uninvited mortal may be?” asked Heimdall, his lip twisted in skepticism. 

Loki finally released you, aside from your hand  which he gripped protectively. “Midgard is falling. She seeks asylum, in my home and in my arms.” 

Heimdall sighed heavily. “I suppose I cannot deny my Prince--”

“--then don’t,” Loki asserted with authority. 

Heimdall didn’t wince or react, aside from acquiescing with a head bow and a smile in your direction. “Welcome to Asgard, maiden.” 

Hence, your life as an emigrant on Asgard began, and Loki saw to it that from Day One, your life was an endless line of luxurious days and decadent nights rolling around on the furs he layered on his bed, the firelight bouncing off of your bare skin, painting your flesh a warm, inviting orange. He knew he had duties to perform, so from the first second, he had his fellow palace-dwellers, the nobles, royals, and high-status companions, keep you company, showing you the palace and the Asgardian way of life while he saw to the endless matters of state a Prince had to address daily. 

“I have a lot of back work that I ignored during my time on Midgard with you, sparrow, so I may be scarce for a number of days, if you can mind that,” he warned. You’d just been happy to be there, so you nodded before dragging him to bed, barely minding anything he said. 

However, there was one thing even Loki couldn’t control, and it was how the Asgardians treated you while his back was turned. They’d chosen to make it evident that they all disapproved of a pointless little mortal being elevated to a status above theirs. Instead of showing you every nook of the palace to give you a sense of knowing your way around, they purposefully left you out of their daily walks, only knocking on your chamber doors to acknowledge your existences at the most basic level. This meant that after a week, you still were lost the instant you stepped outside of your apartments.

After a few days, they’d grown bold enough to make the taunting verbal. 

“Little worthless bitch.” “What a whore.” “She has a spell on him, I’m sure of it.” “I hope the little slut chokes to death on his cock.”

And those were to your back. To your face, they were even worse. 

“Could you EAT any more, pig?” laughed one concubine, walking by as you left an empty tray of food outside of your door to be collected. “You may as well take that down to the kitchens yourself. Get any fatter and you’ll be working in the scullery for sure!” 

You’d tried to make your way around the palace on your own, but no one would help you when you asked for directions. At best, the servants and nobles ignored you. At worst, they stuck a toe out from under their robes to trip you and chuckle at your clumsiness. This was done to you at least daily.  

“His last lover was a dancer with the Asgardian Dancers Guild,” mocked a witness dressed head-to-toe in gold. “And here you plod along like a retired hunting hound! Loki must be out of his skull to want you!”

You didn’t get up for several minutes, ashamed to reveal your reddened face to the small assembly now gathered to watch the confrontation conclude. You waited until the clacking of their heeled shoes and boots subsided, leaving you to slowly withdraw back to your rooms to wait for Loki. 

You knew the only way to end your torment would be to tell him of your struggle with the locals, but after just an hour you thought better of it. Would Loki even believe you? Here were his friends, his companions of centuries, and you were his little blip-on-the-radar, guaranteed to die in perhaps seventy years if you were lucky, which was hardly a sneeze to the near-immortal God. You felt as if any word against his friends would be seen as an act of aggression, or perhaps an expression of regret for ever being led to Asgard in the first place. 

I should take things gracefully. Perhaps they will grow tired of it and let me be, you hoped. Of course, things got worse as your first few days progressed, and soon, you weren’t sure if you could find shelter in Loki’s heart any more. The negative thoughts quickly became your own, invading your mind at the worst times. You started to crack under the pressure and the taunts.

On the evening of the eighth day, you’d finally had enough. Having rung for supper, you’d open your door to receive your tray just as the two daughters of one of Loki’s sentries threw the contents of the platter at you, the hot food landing all over your skin and robes before you could shut the door again. You could hear the girls giggling and oinking as they skipped away. 

Gritting your teeth, you began to shake as you held back tears. Okay, I don’t care if this means going back to a burning ash pile. Home is better than here! 

After quickly cleaning up and changing into a loose green robe, you took off down the hall, determined to find Loki’s study no matter where it was, and no matter how lost you became. You were determined to come clean to him, and then to ask him where the hell he’d been this week. If this was how scarce he would be, then why did he even bother bringing you here if he knew he’d be forced to go back to his studies and war rooms while you bore the teasing and abuse at the hands of his friends?

The hallways seemed longer as the shadows of dusk elongated then, giving your path a creepy, unnerving feeling as you become more and more lost in the gilded labyrinth. Your footsteps echoed off the mirrored walls, reminding you of the hallways of Versailles. Your heart began to beat faster against your ribcage, causing your chest muscles to restrict with anxiety.

I should have left a trail of breadcrumbs, or unraveled a ball of yarn…

An hour passed. The sun (or whatever the Asgardians called their source of daylight) set completely, leaving the flickering torches lining the walls your only guiding light. The other nobles walking the halls of the palace retired to their parlor parties and gambling tables, leaving you alone as you realized that you had to be miles from either your chambers or Loki’s. 

“L…Loki?” you finally verbalized your fear. “Loki? Darling?!” 

You shuffled along, the panic rising in your throat, burning like bile, threatening to spill over into a full attack that would surely send you up against the wall. 

I really can’t handle this…what have I gotten myself into??

Tears were gathering in the corners of your eyes. Your skin went red and hot, beads of sweat prickling your forehead as your ears buzzed. You decided before you lost control completely to duck into an empty room to ride it out, and then perhaps said room would have a bell you could use to summon a servant. Then, perhaps you could pull rank and force them to bring you back without a barrage of cruel names for once--

--then you saw it: a crack of bright light escaping from a doorway nearby on your left that was just slightly ajar. Sanctuary! 

You threw the door open without peeking inside, slamming it behind you just in time for you to sink to your knees behind it, letting the tears come pouring silently down your cheeks. After a moment, you’d managed to gather yourself enough to get to your feet, and it occurred to you that you may have just burst into someone’s private meeting to cry, which wasn’t going to help your already-abysmal reputation. 

You dusted yourself off and got your first look at your chosen hiding place. 

It was a library. Easily the grandest you’d ever seen. 

You’d entered into an atrium in the center of the circular room, and your eyes first followed three floors of balcony in a continuous spiral rising off the floor and winding against the walls and shelves until it hit a mosaic on the ceiling of winding morning glories along a trellis. The entirety of the walls were lined with floor-to-ceiling bookshelves, and all were overstocked with tomes, old and new, of every genre, language, and topic you could fathom, plus more. Stacks of books piled the floors as ancient, musty stalagmites. The beauty and scale of the room was enough to make your jaw drop and forget the woes of moments ago. 

Directly in front of you, underneath the first floor of the winding balcony, was a pit tucked within an alcove, along the far wall of which was a corner-to-corner fireplace, lit and roaring with flame, in front of two large lounge chairs, a table in between. You wandered over to the alcove and stepped into the pit, and it was instantly remarkable how cozy the reading room was compared to the huge scale of the library outside. 

It was everything you’d dreamed your room in Heaven would look like as a kid. I will hide here until I’m ready to find Loki in the morning, you decided. It’s as if this place was made for me…

“Y/N? Dearest? How did you find your way here? I wasn’t quite ready for you!” 

Loki appeared behind you, just outside of the alcove, looking pleasantly surprised, at least until you turned around, and he saw your tear-lined face. His face fell, and he opened his arms, stepping inside as you stumbled to meet his embrace. 

“They’ve been so mean to me….everyone…” you managed to articulate beyond your sobs. Loki rocked you slowly back and forth, slowly tempering your shakes. 

Loki sighed sadly. “I wish you would have told me sooner--”

“--you…you…y--you haven’t been around!” you whispered back. You felt Loki grip you tighter, as tightly as he had the day he brought you away from the carnage of Midgard. 

He was silent for a moment. “I hadn’t realized…I’d been busy--”

“--with work, I know, and I’m not mad, I just, they don’t think I’m worthy of you, and--” you began to babble before Loki loosened his hold on you to put a gente finger against your lips, softly pressing against the delicate skin with a ‘shh!’

“I will see to them later, and I assure you they will pay dearly for their insolence,” Loki promised. “But first, an apology, and then, a gift.” 

He caressed your damp, hot cheek with a cool hand. “I should not have left you to your own devices as soon as I brought you here. It was thoughtless of me.”

“I don’t even know where in the palace I am, or where my rooms are!” you exclaimed. “They refused to show me anywhere. I got so lost…”

“...if you are ever lost again, know that I will always find you, princess, and that you will always be my equal in worth and splendor,” Loki vowed softly, laying a soft, quiet kiss across your lips that brought your heart rate to a hum. You got the feeling Loki’s kiss would always have this effect on you. “I am deeply sorry, please trust that I will never act so carelessly again.” 

You smiled in relief, knowing that in spite of what any Midgardian logic would tell you, your heart knew the earnestness in his promise. “My soul is yours, Prince Loki,” you whispered affectionately, batting your eyelashes with a coquettish air, one you knew he couldn’t resist.

He returned the look with one of his own, one with his signature mischievous twitch along the left corner of his lip, which always gave him away to you. “What?” you asked cautiously. 

“Your gift,” he said, backing away from you and taking your hands in his, guiding you out of the alcove and back into the open atrium. Once he placed you in the middle of the room, he stepped away to execute a show-off’s twirl, his open arms gleefully presenting the library to you. “All of this is yours, if you like it.” 

You didn’t know what to say, other than pointing around you and nodding. “This? Whole room?”

Loki grinned, the present clearly having the effect on you that he’d hoped for. “And every volume within! I know how you are such a fervent reader, dearest, and I thought you may want a special retreat outside of your chambers, so I took the--”

You stopped his train of thought with a kiss, littered intermittently with a hundred ‘thank yous.’ Loki chuckled at your enthusiastic approval and swept you across the marble floors. 

When you finally calmed down enough to take a deep breath and look around again, Loki took the opportunity to make a suggestion. “Shall I show you around, and how everything is arranged? The New York Public Library…um, shall we say…kindly donated these in the hours before the Midgardian Wars began in full,” he explained with a wink. 

“You stole from a library?” you asked with mock shock. 

Loki ran a finger over your smiling lip. “I stole for a library, princess. Now, where do you want to begin?”

You shook your head. Quickly going over to the nearest pile of books, reaching to your waist, you grabbed the first book, and without looking at the title, pressed it into your lover’s hands. “Read to me in front of the fire,” you asked. “All night.”

He looked at you quizzically. “You don't even know what this book is about?”

You beckoned Loki toward the alcove again. “I don’t care. I just want to hear your voice. Then I’ll know I am forever safe.” 

💗 Hi LRM! Sorry this took ages! I'm still struggling a bit with my muses. I hope this satisfies! :) I love you too! 💗

No-Pressure Taggies: @holdmytesseract @lokisgoodgirl @anukulee @meowmeow-motherfucker @muddyorbsblr @mochie85 @mischief2sarawr @chantsdemarins @coldnique @joyful-enchantress @kellatron55 @xorpsbane @lovelysizzlingbluebird @gigglingtiggerv2

[presidentlokis-hornyhelmet]

Loki x wife!Reader Headcanons [throughout the MCU]

Thor1 Loki: He's so soft soft baby TM and caring and always so sweet to you, in private or in public. Love is overflowing! Always kissing you and spoiling you. Not handsy but is always hand holding, or wraps arm around your waist. 2x Verbal Admiration than when he courted you. Favorite thing in the world is your blush and your laugh. You make him melt and he worships the ground you walk on. Gifts, LOTS of gifts. 

"i don't deserve you, y/n."  "If You don't deserve me, no one else does." 

💕How is the love-making?: Soft and Full of emotion! Worships your body; worships You. He'll make you understand why it's called love-making. Frequent eye contact because he loves getting lost in your eyes. Asgard who? (Odin has to forbid you from seeing Loki at work hours because it distracts him😂)

Avengers1 Loki: won't even look you in the eye, ignores your presence like his heritage. When you do manage to get a word with him, he'll Loki-talk you (i.e. vague words with ambiguous meanings that can be interpreted any way) into thinking he's been cheating on you (LIES). Not even a decent answer. Refuses to give you anything but his ire. 

"You still think me a lovesick puppy, girl?"  "My husband is a God who's just deeply devoted to his wife! Who are you and what have you done to him!?"  "Tut tut, my darling Lorelei -oh wait, that's not Your name." *smirks evilly and vanishes* 

💕Um.. love-making..?: most probably not, he's busy being Villain TM. But if you do manage to, he'll end up leaving you unsatisfied or humiliated, tossing you away like a rag doll -anything to make you think he's a bad guy (He's not. But you have to, otherwise The Other might hurt you too.)

TDW Loki: he'd still keep up the A1 facade and if you still want him, he'll be mean and act borderline disrespectful, claiming it's your duty as his wife. But in reality, he only wants to hurt you because spending the rest of his life locked up will be easier with you hating him. Looks at you longingly from his cell with an inexplicable sadness in his eyes, but will aboslutely deny it. 

"I know you wouldn't invade Midgard simply for power. I know you are above that, Loki."  "It is 'my Prince' to you. And, I'd rather you stick to your duties as just my wife." 

💕Smut?: Sure, if you hide it from Odin's knowledge. Lots of degradation, though. You can see the apology on his face, feel the desperation on his touch and hear the veiled sadness is his piercing words. His body language is begging you to stay, yearning for you and hoping you'd understand. Once it's over, he won't even look at your eyes knowing if he does, he can't be mean to you. What hurts him should make him stronger. 

TR Loki: After he shockingly discovered his mysterious survival, he ran back to the palace in search of you. But got to Odin first and.. y'know. He's successfully avoided any romance with you thanks to his disguise, but yearning is on the double when he sees the depth of your devotion. 

"All-Father, I wish to petition a statue on my... late husband's behalf. Of him, of what he's done for Asgard."  "He's a traitor and a convict."  "Who gave his life in atonement. It was a misguided atte-"  "Misguided!? Is that what you call acting against the Hlidskjalf? He invaded Midgard and took innocent lives!"  "And paid for it with his own. I beg your reconsideration, All-Father."  *After a long, scrutinizing pause* "The council will decide." "T-thank you, All-Father."  *Loki as Odin looks at you bow and retreat, sadness in his eyes* 'Oh, my love, how do you still love me after all I've done to you?' 

After evading death by planetary destruction and back in the Statesman hale, healthy and alive, he makes up for earlier. You refuse to accept, still feeling bitter, but Loki has his ways ;) 

💕How so? 👀: As I said, making up. For dayyyys. Lots of apologizing, lots of begging and even the occasional spanking. Many, many rounds even. Thor is quite concerned. Wait, why is Loki carrying you everywhere, can't you wal- OH. 

IW Loki: If you thought you knew how much he loves you (in Thor1), oh baby, you're about to be proven wrong. F*cking killed Thanos in, like, 2 seconds max. All it took was Big Ugly Grape-head to see you and give a creepy smile, the next minute he's lying headless on the ground, his army dissipating into dust. 

"The tesseract or yo-" *gets decapitated by Loki* 

❓And the love-making?: .... uh, doubtful.. Thor is busy choking your husband about why the f*ck he didn't say anything of having the tesseract. (Seriously, Thor, how else did you think he survived a planetary level destruction!? *exasperated sigh*) 

And you lived happily ever after <3 

The end. 💚

[lillywillow]

Blessed by a Goddess

Summary: You had never felt secure about your body but when you meet a renowned artist, you suddenly start to feel more beautiful than ever

  Word Count: 1633

  Pairings: Artist!Loki x Chubby!Female Reader

  Warnings: Body insecurities, mild nudity

Being a plus-sized woman in the modern world could be cruel. Everyone seemed to have certain ideas on how you should look or dress or make ‘helpful’ comments. That’s why you took solace in the art world. Looking at all those fuller figured women from days gone by… it sometimes made you feel like you were born into the wrong era. You would see people admire the works of Ruben but when they turn to look at you, it was completely different. Oh, how you wished you could be one of those paintings.

…

Keep reading

[donaweasley]

Sway With Me

Pairing: Loki x Fem!Plus-sized!Reader

Plot:

Time changes several things, including a person’s appearance. The reader was once fit and confident about her physique but recent changes in her lifestyle has made her bloated. Ashamed of her current body, she shuns away from Loki, and keeps him at bay whenever he tries to get close to her. That was until our Silvertongue decides to erase her insecurities once and for all.

Warnings: Body issues.

Read time: ~6 mins

Note: The song mentioned in the story is “For All You Give” by The Paper Kites.

~~~~~~

I wanna take you everywhere I go

Have you by my side

Take a walk round in every town

Drive across state lines

Like the sun sends a golden stream

Into our front room

I could be the same old light for you

~~~~~~

“Come on, dance with me,” Loki pulled her out of the couch and flush to his body.

“You mean ‘sway’ with me,” she giggled.

“Whatever you would like to call it,” he rested his cheek against hers.

“I love this song!” She hummed.

“So do I.”

The lyrics floated through the room, and rippled with the movements of the two bodies swaying to the whims of the accompanying music.

~~~~~~

Like the morning is always new

Give it back to you

Like the rain, it just passes through

For all you give

I'll give it back to you

~~~~~~

“You know I love you, right?” Loki murmured on the skin of her shoulder.

“Mm-hmm.”

“Then why do you say things that hurt me?”

An exhausted sigh left her. She pulled herself away ever so slightly, just enough to be able to look into his green eyes.

“I never wanted to hurt you, Loki. It’s true, isn’t it, that I don’t look as I used to. I don’t like this version of me.”

His eyes looked deep into her soul. There was a command in them, as a king would hold while addressing his subject. But it was softened by a reverence and an equally unparalleled love.

~~~~~~

I think about it like a man in need

Every time I'm gone

Wait to see you like a mile-long train

Is passing by your door

And my life is set around you now

Tangled up the same

And I'll be the one who calls your name

~~~~~~

“But I still love you,” Loki declared. “You. How you look has never mattered to me.” 

She raised a playful brow at the statement.

The trickster let out a soft laugh. “I mean, I love the way you look. Any time. In any form. You have always mesmerized me, love.”

“But I disappoint myself,” tears had begun to form at the corners of her eyes.

“Why do you let your looks define you?” Loki slipped a slender finger beneath her chin and held it up. “You are a queen! It is not your looks but your attitude and your work that should define you.”

“Easy for you to say, god!”

Loki sighed in defeat. There seemed to be no way he could convince her with his words.

“Come here.” He took her by the hand, and walked to their bedroom.

“Love, I get it. I get your point,” she chuckled, assuming Loki’s “intentions”.

“No, you do not. You say that you have understood, and then I see you hating yourself all over again. Were you not the one who had taught me to love myself no matter what the world says? Were you not the one to tell me to look past my faults, and find the light inside? I did. And I found you. I found us!”

“I still love myself,” she tried to reason, “I just...it’s this mirror that I don’t like.”

“And this is exactly the reason why I need you to look at it.”

Loki positioned them to stand in front of the mirror, with her facing it while he stood behind her.

“What do you see?” He asked her reflection.

“A gorgeous god with a bag of fat,” she laughed, knowing the reaction she’d receive from him.

“You know what I see?”

“A humble god with a ravishing woman?” She jested.

“Partially correct. The woman is ravishing, yes. But the god is gorgeous, too.”

“Narcissist!” She smacked his arm playfully.

“What? One should always appreciate oneself! You are the one who has taught me that.”

“Hmm,” she hummed in agreement, letting a stubborn smile take over her features.

“But I also see a gracious amount of soft skin hidden behind this ugly piece of cloth,” Loki pulled at her t-shirt.

“Don’t you call my baggy tee ugly, mister!” She laughed.

“Shut up. It is ugly because it does not allow me to feel the warmth of your skin. Do you have any idea how much your touch soothes me? How I crave for your skin...any part of it whenever I am feeling anxious?”

“I know,” she whispered.

“Then? I see this ugly thing again, not hugging but clumsily falling over your beautiful, curvy waist,” his hands gently squeezed her waist. “You know how much I love these curves of yours. But did you know that now there is a lot more room for me to dig my fingers into as I make love to you?”

The way he was purring into her ears, and the manner in which his long fingers were slowly gripping her, made her giggle and squirm.

“Ticklish...just the way I like it. See, you do not even allow me to tickle you anymore.”

The more she wiggled under his hold, the more he continued his mischief. Their laughter filled the room until she was panting and begging him to stop.

He kissed her neck before speaking, “And these?”

His palms had now snaked up her body, stopping only when they came to rest on her breasts.

“Do you have any, any idea how much I love these?”

“I guess, I do,” she replied through ragged breaths. Either his hands were exuding magic or she must have lost her senses during the whole tickle-fight, she thought.

“No, you do not,” he breathed in her ear. Yes, it was him and not her, she was sure now.

“If you knew,” his mouth continued with the words while his hands continued with something else, “you would not have left me craving for days.”

“(Y/N)?” He turned her around to face him, “Why are you depriving me of things that I love? Things that I need for survival? I need you. All of you - the good and the bad. Although there is nothing ‘bad’ about your body but only about the way you look at it. Look at yourself the way I look at you. And then you shall see what a marvellous creation you are!”

A tear ran down her cheek. Wiping it off, she tried to laugh but almost choked on her emotions. “I still don’t understand how you can love me so much. You, a god!”

“I am,” Loki kissed her face, “but a simple man with a heart that beats for you. And yes, the most charming man in the entire universe!”

His mischievous smirk made her laugh. Loki stole the moment to pull her flush to him.

“You are my queen,” he ran a hand over her head and down her neck, “my angel. You are…the most beautiful creation that can ever exist. And never ever will you doubt yourself.” He leaned down to whisper in her ear, “Or else I shall punish you.”

A pleasant shiver ran up her spine. “Is that a threat from a god?” She whispered back.

“It is a promise from a god,” his breath warmed the shell of her ear, “and a god always keeps his promise.”

***

Taglist:

(Please DM me in case you wish to be added or removed)

@finnishjerseygirl @theaudacitytowrite @glacial-snowflakes @superheroesandstardust @lokisgoodgirl @kingtwhiddleston @idy-ll-ique @sasuskitten @jun0h1 @fictional-hooman @muddyorbs @aenvstelam @kaogasm @lovelysizzlingbluebird @itshatertatertotblog @starchildbucky @munsons-maiden @modestlyabsurd @dryyoursaltyoceantears @evelyn-kingsley @huntress-artemis @anukulee @eleniblue @mischief2sarawr @lokiswife-dark-fox-queen @lady-rose-moon @crimson25 @hawaiimcgarrett @iamlokisgloriouspurpose @loki-brainrot-has-me-by-the-neck @jmehp @sarawr-reads @caothicshit @smileyishere92 @a-lil-bit-nuts @lokidbadguy @icytrickster17 @fantasyfan4life @avahiddlestonstan @chokeanddagger @linaax

[mymiraclealigner]

If you didn't know me like you do | Professor!Remus Lupin x reader

summary: Remus and his ex-student have gotten really close during the Christmas Break

tw: smut (+18), thigh riding, implicit legal age gap.

word count: 2,845

Grimmauld Place held a warm light at Christmas time. Everyone from the Order was gathered between the tall, wallpapered, rotted walls of the ancient house, filling it with tender laughs and chatter while exchanging presents and hot mulled wine.

This year, Y/n’s parents decided to spend the cold months of December and January in a tropical wonder, leaving her in the care of the famous Weasley family. They were lifelong friends of her parents and, even though she was a bit older than the twins and didn’t really spend time with them —besides at parties—, she got along with the ginger clan.

That's how the witch found herself beating Harry and Ron in exploding snap, pranking the old thief Mundungus with the twins, and having long and fun sleepovers with Ginny and Hermione some nights of the Christmas break. Professors were also around, and some were more approachable than others: Severus left pretty clear he didn’t want to be bothered, but Minerva was open to answering questions about the holiday assignments, and Hagrid had no problem advancing the topics he would teach after the break either.

There was also Remus, but he was something more than an academic figure. He was not only there willing to give Y/n book recommendations and suggest grammatical corrections in her final-year essays. He was also there lifting her spirit with bad jokes after Order reunions, asking her if she wanted more butterbeer with his eyes at the dinner table, and listening to her ramble about her dreams and aspirations late at night with a cold cup of tea in one of his hands —the other, barely grazing her pinky.

Remus and Y/n had created an inexplicable bond between them that had formed based on similar interests and sexual tension disguised as genuine concern for each other.

Each one had their problems: Remus was still affected by his deployment in Hogwarts, the transformations were tougher each month, and living again with his best friend was not as fun as he remembered: Sirius came back with a lot of tattoos, resentment towards Remus for believing the lies and an underlying sentiment of guilt for what happened to the Potters. Y/n was dealing with the stress of facing the OWLs and the working life, a brewing war that blinded her vision for the future and threatened her hopes of a normal life, and the imminent feeling of abandonment that her absent parents put in her chest.

They managed to find comfort in each other and they casually started spending more time together very quietly, very subtly. No one read Y/n's expressions like Remus, and no one felt Remus' words as Y/n did; so they started to have conversations in secluded places of the creaking house, where not even the portraits could listen.

Of course, those conversations were filled with listening ears and understanding nods, but also with thirsty lips and fidgety hands. It might have been difficult for the others to spot the magnetic chemistry between them, but it was crystal clear for anyone who would stop to analyze the shine in their eyes when they hung into each other's words.

The young witch had never felt a stronger knot create in her lower belly every time Remus brushed her hip to pass to the other side of the hall, or a hotter blush grow in her cheeks when he rolled up the sleeves of his dressing shirt to reveal strong scarred arms.

He was also down bad, even if he tried to hide it. He had managed to perfect the crossing legs method to hide his erection from his ex-student, and sometimes he couldn't correct the direction of his eyes, which always diverted to the curviness of her hips or the brown spot on her neck.

She secretly found his admiration for her body hilarious; even if he didn't make it obvious, she could see the delicate way he contemplated her moving arms and hair, and her moving lips the most. She loved to be appreciated with that devotion, she had never felt that before.

One cold night, after what Y/n perceived was a stressful Order meeting, they sat on the comfortable, almost broken sofa in front of the library's fireplace. The flames exuded a warmth that made the witch remove her woolen sweater and Remus was finding it hard not to succumb to his desire to caress her tanned collarbone.

The bitter green tea and thoughtful state of mind sparked a pessimist conversation that included Nietzsche quotations and laments about the world and the terrible situation witches and wizards of England were in with the shadow of the Dark Lord stalking the safety of people.

That obscure life beyond the comforting room seemed pointless to go through for a second. So many horrors and injustices were occurring around her in that moment, and Y/n's awareness immersed her imagination in despicable hypotheticals that involved her tortured body, and Remus' body too, who was sitting a few meters away from her.

"Sometimes I wish we weren't real," she sighed and propped her head on the back of the couch.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean I wish we didn't exist, that we weren't known. That we weren't even born."

"I understand why you wouldn't want yourself to exist, I have had that feeling myself before, believe me. My question is more why you want to drag me with you to non-existence?"

Remus laughed a bit, he would always be surprised by her interesting thoughts. She had a way of seeing the world he couldn't grasp and that kept him on a fun, uneasy expectation.

Y/n was relieved to see that the werewolf had moved the conversation somewhere else, where she wouldn't have to think about the darkness of the world around them.

"Because I don't think there would be a you without me," Remus' eyebrows went up. "Don't give me that look! I-I expressed myself badly… forget it."

Y/n felt her face flush and her eyes water; the one time she decided to be philosophically flirty she messed it all up. She thought she should have just sewn her mouth shut.

"No, none of that. Try to express what you meant," Remus came dangerously close to her, increasing the heavy feeling that burnt the witch's skin.

The girl sat down straight touching his thigh with hers and, after a long sigh, she answered.

"I meant that you wouldn't be the person you are or have the thoughts you've had if you hadn't met me the way you do," Y/n was nervously picking at the skin around her thumb, avoiding Remus' stare.

"What do you think I'd be like?"

"Miserable," she joked. Remus chuckled. "I just think you wouldn't ask yourself certain things."

"Things like what?" Remus brought his shaking hand up to put behind her ear a piece of hair that had fallen in the side of her face.

Suddenly the temperature in the library went up, but it wasn't because the fire in front of them burned more intensely. The reality of an awful world truly disappeared from Y/n's thoughts completely; the warm spot in her chest was speaking louder than pain.

"Like…" the girl silenced herself for a second, and then took a big breath to mutter the bravest thing: "whether to kiss me and disobey every rational voice in your head, or bring more tea to calm yourself down and avoid that thought."

A maddening silence stilled everything in the room; the particles of dust, the creaking wood and Y/n’s breathing stopped in time.

Remus turned around to check that the silver tea set was still resting in the small, fancy desk next to the window; if he were to reach it, he would have to get up and break the intimate bubble the two of them had entered.

"Yeah, you are right, I do ask myself that a lot. The kettle is too far, though."

The nervous girl turned around slowly fearing the possibility of her understanding. Their minds were close in thought, and he had unconsciously moved close to the point where she could feel Remus' breath in her cheek, and see a sparkle in his eyes.

"So, no tea this time?"

"No, not tonight I think," he whispered with a serious expression.

Burying his scarred hand behind her ear and into her hair, he brought his nose to her. He ignored the screams of his reason telling him to get away, and teased her opened lips by rubbing noses; she thought that that is how it must feel to kiss a ghost.

The impatient little whine that fell from her mouth gave Remus the final push to press his lips onto hers. She started moving them slowly, trying to mask her desperation for him and all thoughts erased from the werewolf's mind. There was nothing more in the universe than the sweet taste of that girl's mouth. His tongue gracefully licked hers, producing a twitch of her hips and she imitated the movement of his mouth, just like he had demonstrated.

She was eager for more and Remus could smell it. It was driving him insane, but he wanted to leave up to her whether his hand was worthy of something more than the touch of her shiny hair. Just like she had just read his mind, she pulled herself closer to him, squeezing his arm to signal a need for physical contact. Remus placed his hand behind her shoulder, moving her body towards his direction; and without any warning or precaution, Y/n turned herself to him, sitting on one of his thighs.

She separated slightly from him. His hands were now holding her waist in place and they could feel each other's breath from how close they remained. A silent conversation of whether this was real or not started. Their eyes weren't discussing the actual actions, but the tangible desire behind them and the not-so-innocent intentions.

While trying to assimilate that they both wanted this, Y/n started to rub herself against his thigh, searching for a pleasure only he could give her, she was sure. Remus squeezed her sides, trying to avoid the inevitable, and hopeful that she would notice he was not worthy of such pleasure. He closed his eyes, repeating to himself that he should not be enjoying this, that this was just a dream.

"Look at me, please," Y/n said slightly out of breath, Remus' eyes remained shut. "Come on, don't you think I'm pretty?"

Of course he thought she was pretty, and smart, and fun, and so many other things. But this was wrong; it was wrong not only the fact that he doubled her age, but that she deserved someone more capable of giving her love and attention. He was emotionally unavailable to shower her with love, and he wasn't going to be the one breaking her heart.

"Remus, do you not want this?" her hips halted, and his eyes opened immediately, "because I understand if you just think I'm too immature and inexperienced, a-"

"Of course I want this" the words flew straight out of his heart skipping his reason, but he didn't regret what he said.

Y/n didn't waste more time and rushed to grab his face to feel his lips on hers. Remus tightened his grip on her hips and forced himself to forget anything outside the library. In that precise moment, there was only he and Y/n, and his mind shouldn't get distracted from anything else. Nothing was more important than her right then and there.

Now Remus' arms were the ones guiding the movement of her hips back and forth. She bunched the fabric that covered his shoulders in her hands, trying to hide the moans to express her pleasure; the seam in her jeans had found her spot perfectly and the rubbing against Remus' strong thigh was stimulating her just the right way. Sweat started to emanate from her frown and her eyebrows moved up involuntarily, her panting was creating in Remus a hot feeling in his chest and he wanted to feel her warm cunt closer to his leg.

"Take off the jeans," her hands flew instantly to the button on the front, and Remus helped her take one leg out of her jeans so she wouldn't completely fall off his lap.

Remus appreciated how her simple light gray underwear clad to her hips. He followed the sewn end of the fabric with his fingers, from where her legs met her hip, through the middle of her buttocks, until her center. She was wet and the gray of her panties evidenced it blatantly. The werewolf rubbed his fingers on the wet spot before the witch forced herself to sit right on top of the evident bulge in his pants.

The girl started moving slowly again trying to stroke his cock with her middle effectively. Remus stiffened as a reaction to the pleasure he was receiving and that he craved for a very long time before. He was rock hard underneath her, and she took that as an advantage to rock herself against him with more intensity, making it difficult for the two of them to stay quiet.

Remus trespassed the fabric of her underwear and firmly grabbed her bottoms to get some control. The now panting girl searched Remus' lips to comfort herself because there was something forming in her stomach and in her chest stronger than anything she had felt before.

Yes, of course Y/n had touched herself before, in Grimmauld Place it had been difficult to find alone time, but the shower was always a good place of peace where she could visualize her previous DADA professor turning her over a desk and taking a firm hold of her hips. However, she had never really had an orgasm, she usually stopped when it'd get too good because her hands would start shaking and her legs would get some funny, unbearable ticklish feeling.

Her core started getting wetter and wetter and Remus couldn't hide his grunts; he imagined being inside her and his cock twitched embarrassingly.

He lowered his kisses to her chin, then her jaw leaving a sweet purple mark close to her ear. He continued going down, taking more time in that precious mole on her neck, until reaching the swell of her chest. He removed a hand from her moving bottoms and brought it up, with the intention of lowering the hem of her v-neck top.

When Remus started kissing and licking her nipples, Y/n held to his head and cuddled herself against him moving more desperately on him.

She was also imagining having him inside of her, close to his skin, without clothes between their bodies. She wondered what his chest looked like; maybe it was as scarred as his face, or maybe it was full of tattoos like Sirius'. What she knew with certainty was that it was hairy since some hair always peeked from the top of his shirt, and that it was very strong from the way he held her to him.

The werewolf's hips rose softly, following the girl's hip movements with a mouthful of her breast. Both him and her weren't containing their sights of pleasure and were just as close to climax.

Y/n grabbed a handful of Remus's slicked back hair to announce she couldn't bear much more of the pleasure, and he responded by bringing one hand to her hair to pull her close to his face. The closeness permitted them to look into each other's mouths with tired pants and a feral urge to crash lips.

"R-Rem, I think I-I," the witch could barely mutter a word, the divine sensation in her center started crawling up her back and arms, making them weak and wobbly as her voice.

"I know, love. Me too. Be a good girl and cum for me," he whispered, swallowing a moan from how good she felt on top of him.

Just before her legs gave up, an electrocuting sensation tickled her neck and stiffened her whole body. The witch came letting out a surprised little scream with her head buried in his shoulder; she had definitely never felt something like that.

“Good girl, yeah, good girl,” he panted as she rode him through her orgasm.

Remus welcomed all the weight of her body in his chest and, unannounced, came in his dressing pants from the lazy movements the girl was making on him to elongate her climax. He joined her ecstasy with satisfied little grunts and a fist holding her hair. Both entered a hazy, dreamy state where nothing could be bad and words were too complicated to pronounce.

The girl raised her head to meet Remus' eyes. He, ignoring the small circle of drool that she had left on his upper sleeve, gave her a smile and held her by the neck to kiss her sweet lips, certainly not for the last time.

[cyberstrm]

4:07 am

remus lupin x gn!reader

cws: consensual age gap, reader was formally remus's student but nothing inappropriate happened during that time, smoking, swearing

you took a long drag from your cigarette as you gazed into the black sky. leaning out of a cramped, 3rd floor corridor window was not the most glamorous way of smoking, but you were so desperate you didn't care.

as much as you valued being in the order of the phoenix, the current headquarters (the house formally owned by the blacks) was a fucking nightmare. it reeked of death and woodworms, and there were creatures of all shapes and sizes hiding in crevices and cupboards. it was only just liveable and you'd been stuck living here here for weeks, but at least you could leave when you wanted to, unlike poor sirius.

offering to stay and help clean up headquarters over the summer seemed simple enough at the time, but it was hard work. when the kids went back to school, you'd go proper househunting. you'd graduated from hogwarts only this year, and needed somewhere to crash, so in exchange for a free room and food on the table, you'd agreed to help make the black house fit for living.

mrs weasley did not approve of your smoking habits, hence the uncomfortable leaning out of the window. besides, it was too late (or rather, early in the morning) to go outside.

"care to spare one?"

you jumped, hitting your head on the window.

"ow! fuck!"

you pulled out, still holding a half-finished cigarette, panting. remus lupin stood in front of you, his face apologetic. he was wearing brown cords and a baggy, sage green button up that was half untucked, and mismatched socks.

"apologies, y/n. didn't mean to startle you."

"cough next time or something, merlin." you placed a hand on your heart dramatically and fumbled with your packet of fags. "we won't both fit out the window so we'll just have to sit and smoke vaguely in the vicinity."

remus laughed and took the cigarette, his fingertips brushing yours. he sat opposite you on the stairwell, lazily using his wand to light his cigarette.

"didn't take you for a smoker." you said, after exhaling deeply.

"yes, well. you're not exactly the smoker type either." he replied, taking a long drag with a grateful expression.

"excuse me, the last time you saw me i had shitty box-dyed hair and a nose stud. I'm definitely the smoker type." you said in mock defence, referencing the year that remus had taught your defence against the dark arts lessons.

he chuckled, nodding. "that's true. you did look very different back then."

"man, i miss your classes. they were so chill. sorry i was always a nightmare and never handed in homework."

"i had worse students." he smirked, and you smacked him playfully. you both laughed.

you hadn't felt this relaxed in a while. after everything that happened last year, you'd felt wild and panicked for almost every waking moment. you believed harry, of course you did, and being close with the weasley's meant you knew all about the order, and joined as soon as you left school. maybe it would've been better if you didn't believe harry. you wouldn't feel so...panicked all the time. but you did, so that was that.

"what are you doing up so early anyway?" you asked, checking your watch and feeling a pang of guilt at the little '4:07' staring up at you.

remus nodded at the window. you looked up and saw the almost full moon.

"i can never sleep in the days beforehand."

"oooh." you replied in understanding. "i'm....i'm sorry you had to leave hogwarts because of it. that fucking sucked."

"i'm used to it." he shrugged.

"anytime you need cigs, i'm your person. any time. for free. no charge. it's the least i can do, like honestly i wouldn't have passed DADA if it weren't for you."

"i'll hold you to that." he grinned.

he gazed out the window, his eyes glazed and unfocused. he looked exhausted, but he wore it well. you supposed that was because he was rarely anything but. he looked soft, blurry around the edges, like a mirage, or as if he were painted with watercolour.

"d'you wanna know something kinda funny."

don't say it.

"mm?"

don't say it.

"i kinda..."

you're going to embarrass yourself.

"i used to have the biggest crush on you when you were at hogwarts."

remus didn't say anything, but smiled humbly.

"i get that a lot, actually."

"really?"

"you sound surprised." he grinned.

"what? no- i just mean...who will i have to battle for your heart?"

he laughed, and you found your face was growing warm. you don't know why you'd told him, it was very spur of the moment, but you were glad you did. it was nice to see him properly laugh.

"things have changed so much." you muttered, getting to the end of your cig. "i changed so much. probably for the better."

"things have changed- are changing." he agreed. "but i do hope you didn't stop liking me."

you properly blushed this time. "you mean that?"

he gazed at you, and leant forward to stub out his cigarette on the windowsill. he didn't lean back. his eyes were on you, full of something you'd never seen before. not lust, more like-

but before you could think of what it was more like, he pressed his lips to yours gently. his facial hair was rough against your skin as he kissed you deeper, his hand cupping your cheek.

he pulled away, still holding your face.

"was that...okay?" he asked, raising an eyebrow at your flustered face.

"y-yeah....but....maybe we should go somewhere more private." you chuckled, gesturing to the fact you were both slumped on the stairwell floor.

"good idea, hun." he pecked your lips. he stood up and helped you to your feet.

"my room?" you asked, kissing his scarred cheek.

"desperate for more, hm?" he teased, wrapping an arm around your waist. he kissed you again softly.

"you know it, old man."

[lady-rose-moon]

My sweet Baronet

Summary: being married to Sir Thomas Sharpe had some... inconvenient setbacks but you are sure to worth through them with your husband.

Warnings: smut, mentioned incest, Lucille Sharpe, angst, mentions of grooming 🤢

A/N: come on, I love writing for Thomas, gimme a break!!

Allerdale was colder at night. You had to pull up the blankets to your chin to even feel a semblance of warmth. The house was falling apart and yet neither Thomas nor Lucille had paid for someone to repair it. You had offered to get the finest builders on the job but both had vehemently ordered that you not hire anyone. Then there were the ghosts that you kept seeing, they were always in your peripheral vision or disappeared just as you realised they were there. 

Thomas had always insisted that the ghosts were just your imagination but you knew that you saw them and you could see in your husband’s eye that he believed you. On the subject of your husband, he was once again not in your bed tonight. It was saddening that you were becoming used to being alone in the King sized bed when you fell asleep and awoke. 

You were fully awake tonight and decided that you would explore the crumbling mansion with your candelabra, the stray dog at your feet. Your bare feet pattered against the rotting floorboards as you walked along the floor that you were on. Thomas’s grand bedroom seemed to take up most of the floor but the other side was unfurnished as if all the furniture had been sold because of lack of use. 

Something urged you up the stairs, the hairs on your arm rising as you came up into the attic, hearing the soft song of a woman; Lucille. Dread pooled in your stomach as you edged closer to Lucille’s bedroom door and when you turned the knob and the door swung open, you were greeted with the sight of Lucille on Thomas’s lap, her hand down the front of his trousers and his mouth locked on her neck. 

You were so tempted to say something but before they could register that you had been there, you had closed the door again and swept down the stairs back into Thomas’s spacious bedroom. 

You began to pace the floor as you nibbled on one of your nails. They slept together. They loved each other. Thomas doesn’t love you. The recording tubes that you listened to, the photo of a baby, you realised now that the baby wasn’t Thomas’s with Enola, it was Lucille’s baby.

Nausea rose in your throat but you swallowed it down as you moved to sit on the windowsill and watch the snow fall. You were in a one-sided marriage. You loved Thomas more than anything, he had been there for you endlessly when your brother died, leaving you the heir to your family's fortune. 

You didn’t realise how long you were sitting on the sill until a soft pair of lips pressed to your forehead. Your eyes shifted from the freshly fallen snow to the alluring blue of your husband's eye, the eyes that had only been for Lucille all this time. 

“How long?” you whispered, feeling your husband falter in his stance, staring at you with a look of confusion.

“How long, what, my darling?” Thomas whispered, sitting on the sill in front of you, a frown playing at his lips when he saw how distraught you looked and he noted how you looked as if you hadn’t gotten a speck of sleep last night. 

You scoffed and looked back out of the window to the fallen snow, wishing you were as free as the snowflakes elegantly falling from the clouds. Instead, you felt like a wealthy caged bird inside the crumbling mansion belonging to your husband and his sister/mistress. “How long have you been fucking Lucille, Thomas?” you spat, meeting his gaze head on and you watched his eyes widen comically and his breath hitch, “how long?!”

Thomas released a breathy chuckle and stood from the sill, knowing you still had your eyes on him as he walked to his wardrobe and pulled out the day’s outfit. “I have no idea what you are talking about, dearest, Lucille is my sister,” the Baronet returned eventually, buttoning his shirt and looking over at you, registering the cold look in your eye and flinching away from it.

“Don’t play with pretty words, Baronet,” you sneered, rising from your seat and ignoring the ache in your rear from sitting as you approached your cheater of a husband, “I saw you in the early hours of this morning, her hand down your pants, you openly appreciating her neck. Don’t bullshit me, Thomas.”

“Such words, my love!” Thomas protested, his brows furrowing with worry.

“The Gods will pardon my words to you, husband! Avoiding my question will only prolong my blasphemy! Admit it and God shall forgive,” you countered, your arms crossing over your nightgown as you held his gaze. You weren’t afraid of the man before you even though you knew he had the power to kill you with his bare hands.

Thomas lowered his head and sighed, tears forming in his oceanic eyes as he whispered, “since I was young.”

The words struck you immediately and you stared at your husband incredulously, “since… since you were how young, Thomas?”

“Since I was a boy,” the Baronet whispered, raising his head to meet yours as his eyes glimmered with confusion, “don’t tell me you and your brother didn’t…”

You realised his implication and you were sickened by it. Not him, never him, but you were sickened of Lucille for manipulating the Baronet into thinking that incest was the done thing when children were young. “God no!” you protested quickly, watching Thomas’s eyes widen in surprise, “that is wrong, Thomas, sex between siblings is so very wrong indeed!”

“But… Lucille said…” Thomas trailed off, his eyes becoming distant as tears formed again and dripped down his cheeks. “Lucille said that it was how I showed my love for her,” he whispered at last, watching your face fall.

You stepped closer to your husband and cupped his cheek, watching him instantly lean into the warmth of your palm. “This is love,” you whispered, watching as his eyes struggled to meet your own, “my love for you is the real love here. Lucille was manipulating you for her own gain. If she slept with you, lost her flower then she would never have to marry.”

Thomas tensed and shook his head quickly as tears brimmed in his beautiful eyes. You hated watching him cry. He rarely did but after a night of running experiments on his machine and failing to get it running, he would seek you out and rant until he was in tears. In a reflex that you knew you would never get rid of, you reached up and wiped away his tears, watching the muscles in his face relax as he leaned into the contact. 

“What you have with her isn’t love,” you whispered, watching Thomas’s eyes flutter open to meet yours. You offered him a soft smile as you edged him backwards to the bed and smiled as he fell back onto the sheets, his eyes never leaving your own. “Let me show you what love is,” you pleaded, noticing how his breath hitched and felt as his cock took an interest.

You leaned your body down and began to pepper kisses down from behind his ear to the top of his half-buttoned shirt. The chest hair that was visible teased your lips as you pulled away.

“This isn’t love, either,” Thomas whispered, a frown playing on his thin lip.

“How can you be sure?” you whispered, your hand grazing over his trousers just enough for him to hiss from the contact. “Can you look me in the eye and tell me you don’t love me?” you questioned, fully prepared for his rejection. He loved Lucille. This was never to be.

Thomas hesitated before bringing your face to his gently and pressing a loving kiss to your lips. Your eyes fluttered closed and he followed quickly after. You quickly unbuttoned his shirt, your hands roaming over his chest and down his abdomen as you sat on his hips. The kiss was passionate and full of lust, unlike the sparse and quick pecks that he had given to you before. 

Thomas was breathless beneath you as you both devoured the taste of each other. You had missed feeling this electric excitement when you were near him, he had been so distant lately that you felt as if you would soon fall out of love with him too. You pulled away from his lips and whispered a faint, “please don’t divorce me.”

Thomas’s eyes slowly opened and met your own quickly in confusion. “Divorce you?” he whispered brokenly, his soft hands climbing up your thighs on either side of his lap, “why, by God, would I do that?”

“To resume your tryst with Lucille,” you replied simply, disgust lacing your tone as you spoke but you watched as Thomas quickly shook his head and captured your lips in his again. This kiss was slow, trusting and understanding. Thomas needed you to know that he loved you, depended on your love for him, obsessed over seeing your smile, needy to feel your bare skin against his own.

“No,” he murmured against your lips, his hands continuing their journey exploring your clothed body before he pulled the sleeping gown from your body and admired the body beneath. “No, I would never continue my tryst with Lucille,” he continued, his eyes locked with yours as his hands hesitantly explored, “not after you have opened my eyes.”

The Baronet’s hands held your waist and flipped you over onto the mattress, his strong body leaning over you as he heaved breaths, his pupils dilated and the evident arousal pressing against his trousers. “I crave you, sweet one,” Thomas whispered, one of his hands roaming over your body, cupping your breast and gently playing with one of your nipples with his thumb, “I crave to know how it feels to bring you into womanhood, to watch your face contort in such beautiful expressions of pleasure, to hear you scream to Heaven above that I am your husband, that I am yours, as I always should have been.”

You nodded eagerly and he smirked as he lowered his lips onto yours once more. You sighed between his lips and bit back playfully, your chest pressing up against his own, now naked, torso. Your fingers slithered up the sides of his neck and your nails wrapped themselves in the beautiful curls that surrounded his head like a halo. You pulled away for breath but didn’t let anything more than a second pass before you captured his lips again, one of your hands disentangling from his hair to slide down to his trousers, aiding him in pulling them off. 

Thomas groaned against your lips as he was now freed from the confinement of his pants. His hardened length was already swollen and red, greedily anticipating breaching you and claiming you. Before you could pull him closer, Thomas pulled himself from you and smirked as he whispered, “allow me to do something for us both, darling.”

You nodded shakily and watched as he left the bed, grabbed a cloth and covered the door handle and keyhole with it, nodding with satisfaction to himself before returning to you. Once he was back on top of you, he grabbed one of your legs and began to press open-mouthed kisses to your bare skin and he revelled in the way that you whined and arched up for him. He was so patient, so gentle, sucking marks into your skin all over and allowing you to feel so perfect.

“Are you ready?” he whispered gently, watching as your eyes met his and you nodded eagerly, your eyes fluttering shut when Thomas’s lips met yours. You had almost forgotten what was happening before you felt the hot tip of his cock press against your entrance and you whined into the kiss but Thomas pulled from your lips and pressed gentle kisses down your neck as he whispered, “it’s okay, I have you, baby,” and his cock gradually slipped inside. 

Once he was fully seated inside you, Thomas threw his head back in pleasure and released a throaty groan. He wasn’t surprised at your tightness, he fully enjoyed your nervous whimper and gasps, craving for him to move with half of your body but the other half needed a wait. Thomas slowly eased out of you and kissed away the pained expression that drew your brow together before he slowly thrust forward and savoured your pleasure-filled moan.

Minutes passed with him performing these small motions, of you keening beneath him and your legs beginning to wrap around his middle before you were ready and his thrusts increased. 

The feeling of his cock slowly increasing in speed made your heart flutter and electricity run throughout your body. You had needed this ever since you had first signed that marriage certificate. 

“Thomas,” you whined against him as the raven-haired Baronet cradled your head and his hips increased in their speed, his cock continuing to fuck you so deliciously well. He felt so perfect inside you and you knew that you needed this immediately, you couldn’t go another day without this. “I love you, mmnn, I love you, husband,” you whispered, feeling his cock twitch inside you at your confession.

Thomas pulled back and studied your eyes, trying to find the lie but when he found nothing but love, trust and lust, he smiled and pressed his lips quickly to yours before pulling back and whispering, “I love you too.”

Groaning, he pulled out to the tip before sinking back in and listening to your delighted moan at the motion so he proceeded to do it again and again, increasing the pace until he was pounding into you and bringing out feral moans from the back of your throat.

Your hands left his hair to grip at the sheets beside your head as your filter for noise was destroyed by the intoxicating feel of his cock bruising your insides repeatedly. The Baronet had to be carved by a sulptor, you thought as pleasure filled your mind, he was covered with a thin sheen of sweat and yet he still looked utterly handsome. 

Thomas’s hand fell to your eager clit and began to massage it slowly before gradually matching the pace to his thrusts, pushing you over the edge into utter oblivion. He didn’t leave you waiting long, however, as he came quickly behind you and moaned your name into the quiet air of the grand bedroom. 

Silence reigned in the room as you both came down from your highs and as Thomas cleaned you up, pressing light kisses to your legs as he cleaned your cunt of any of his seed that leaked out and your natural juices. 

When Thomas finally slipped into bed minutes later, you rolled over and draped your arm over his chest, your head fitting snugly in the crook of his neck. The sound of his heart pounding below his skin was oddly comforting and reassured you that he was your husband and you were his wife. 

“Thomas?” you whispered into the dark, earning a drowsy hum in reply, “what do we do about your sister?”

“What do you mean?” Thomas asked, his head shifting so he could easily look down at your head on his shoulder.

Your cheeks flushed and you looked away from him, “well, she probably heard all of this, what do we do?”

“I don’t care,” Thomas replied, pulling you into another soft kiss before rolling on top of you and claiming your lips. 

You eagerly accepted his kiss before his hand began to slip between your legs and you pulled away with a laugh, “Thomas, we just got clean!”

“Then I shall clean you again and again, my love, you shall never feel deprived of my love,” Thomas answered smugly, spreading kisses down your neck that turned your laughter into moans.

Just outside the door, Lucille Sharpe had planned 14,785,435 ways to kill you for stealing Thomas from her.

~~~~~~~~~~~

@lokisgoodgirl

@lokisninerealms

@evelyn-kingsley

@slpnbty2001

@jennyggggrrr

@hahaha12123445

@ozymdias

@holdmytesseract

@itsybitchylittlewitchy

@lovingchoices14

@xorpsbane

[thefaefiction]

In Too Deep. [Tom Hiddleston x Reader]

PAIRING: Tom Hiddleston x Reader GENRE: Smut !! WARNINGS: Age gap, teacher x student relationship, smut, daddy kink, praise, piv sex, choking, degradation if you squint, aftercare, fem!reader, written with a chubbier reader in mind but it's not obvious, also the beginning is rushed SUMMARY: After developing an intense relationship with your English professor Mr. Hiddleston, you both are in too deep to let it go to waste.

A/N: im not gonna lie i had no clue how to actually begin this fic because it's literally just an excuse for me to indulge in my delusions so sorry that the first couple paragraphs are weird and rushed </3 also the school email domain is fake idk if it's real don't pay attention to it LMAO

Your obsession with your English professor was no secret to your friends. Elio, your long term best friend and dormmate, has had to interrupt you from your delusions on more than one occasion which was already one too many -- whether that be purposefully failing a paper to see him after class, wearing a skirt far too short and dropping a pencil in a calculated manner in front of him, or staring at him a little too intently during lectures -- it was becoming a problem.

In the professor's multiple classes of forty-some-odd students, there really were only a few that were delusional enough to believe they could sleep with their teacher. The difference between you and them was that you were patient with your actions and the effects it had on him.

Ultimately your patience paid off, as one Friday you received an ominous email with the heading titled 'Make-up Work' from a particular '[email protected].' In the details, he simply requested your presence at a disclosed location only ten minutes from campus on Sunday. It was not an office nor a dorm, but a house.

It wasn't long before his intentions were made clear when you arrived; his eyes dark with lust and a half buttoned shirt upon opening the door.

"(Y/N)," He welcomed, cocking his head and shutting the door behind you. "Lovely to see you."

"Pleasure's mine," You reply, never breaking eye contact. You slide your coat off and he takes it in his hands, hanging it up for you. You knew where the night was going to end -- inviting a student to talk not just outside of office hours, but in the professor's home, is not something usual.

"I thought we could discuss an appropriate way to help get your grade back up in my class," He begins. His eyes look down for a moment, observing your obviously risqué attire. "Do you have an idea as to what way that might be?"

He was going to make you say it. There was no way around it. Still, you decided to entertain his antics until it was made painfully and obviously clear he was trying to get you to say what you know he wants you to say.

"I think," You start, voice beginning to shake. The confidence you had starting this endeavor was suddenly challenged. "I think one-on-one time is certainly needed." You press your lips together in a line.

He hums, taking an agonizing step closer. He looks down into your eyes, furrowing his brows and letting out a soft laugh. "I'm not dumb, (Y/N)," he retorts. "I know you're a smart girl. You're excellent, actually -- some of the best writing from all of my classes combined." The professor stops, taking a step back to his original position. "So why are you really here?"

A moment of silence.

"You know why," You sheepishly croak out.

"Flatter me by saying it, then." He raises an eyebrow, crossing his arms and waiting for you to speak.

"I want you to fuck me."

With the words already said, there was no going back. Your chest sunk, a feeling of embarrassment creeping up and beginning to eat away at your skin. All of those feelings were put to rest the second your professor spoke: "Was that so hard to ask, love?"

Professor Hiddleston turned on his heel, two fingers signaling you to follow him like a lost puppy. He led you down a long hallway in painful silence, finally twisting the knob to a door that revealed his bedroom. It was sleek and clean, covered in shades of black and gray with no mess dared to be left out.

He shut the door behind you and immediately began unbuttoning his shirt, holding your gaze with his light eyes. "Quickly," He commented. "I don't like waiting."

Your face flushed, embarrassed at his demand. You looked away and lifted the hem of your shirt-

"You will look at me," He orders, finishing the last button. "With how bold you are in my classroom I would've thought you'd take more control," He pokes, smirking. "Who would've thought you're just a shy little girl desperate for attention from her professor?"

Your thighs squeezed together, you're sure it doesn't go unnoticed as he grins the moment it occurs. You lift your top off as he watches, simultaneously beginning to unbuckle his belt. The sound makes you shiver.

"Good girl," He praises. You shiver in response.

As he tosses his belt to the side, you begin sliding your skirt off, letting it fall to the ground and pool at your feet. Your professor mimics with his slacks, walking closer and caressing your cheek. "Bed."

You obey, laying down on his duvet as he crawls up your body, sending shivers down your spine. "Professor-"

"Tom," He corrects. "No need for formalities at this point, yes?"

You blush before continuing. "Tom, are you sure?"

"I've been sure since the first time you tried to tease me in class," He replies. "I don't think you understand that I think about you every fucking night in my bed, about the things I would do if I were just able to have you."

You smile, your confidence returning almost instantly. "You have me, sir."

Tom grunts in the back of his throat, his body towering over you as he tears your underwear off, the cracking of the seams startling you. Immediately his hands find your sex, running his hands over it and around your thighs. His hands diligently run under your back, you arch, giving him easier access to remove your bra.

"God, you're stunning," He whispers before connecting his lips to yours. He pulls on your face, his teeth making contact with your lips and bruising their pink color in moments. As he pulls away, a string of saliva connects your mouths and you squirm beneath him.

Tom sits up and begins removing his boxers. The tent in them is noticeable -- and horrifying. You can tell he's big even without seeing it.

Not like you've thought about it before, though.

Now completely undressed, he puts his hands under your waist and drags you forward with a grunt. His hands dig at the fat of your hips and travel along your plush thighs, a moan escaping your lips as his fingers dance on your skin.

"Does my little girl need her professor's cock?" Tom provokes, sliding his shaft between your folds -- up and down, up and down, up and down.

You whine, nodding eagerly in hopes to get him to just put it in already, but your meek noise wasn't good enough for him. "Use your big girl words, darling." He puts his thumb and pointer finger against your chin, urging you to look at him him; eyes burning through your skull.

"Daddy," You spit out too quick, back arching. "Please, need you inside of me so bad!" The sheer volume of your pleas and the new title takes Tom aback, yet his cock ached with every sultry word you spoke.

"Good girl," He praises, grinning at you beneath him. You watch as he inserts himself, pressing just the head into your heat. You let out a guttural moan, eyebrows furrowing in a lovely mix of pain and pleasure. He begins slowly easing himself into you further, inch by agonizing inch, until he completely bottoms out; releasing a groan as his head lolls back. "God, you feel so good princess," He praises, "Taking me so so well, yeah?"

His words struck a chord within you, forcing a smile on your face. You whimper, brain not being able to form a complete thought at how deep he was inside you and how just damn good it felt. He was much bigger than anyone you'd taken before by a longshot. Your walls clenched around him and he laughed, cock twitching inside of you. He slowly slides back, leaving just the head in, and then pushes forward quickly, earning a loud, needy, moan from your lips. "Look at you, so drunk on me, hm?" He says, pulling back and then ramming himself deep into you, bruising your cervix. "Tell me what you want, doll. What is it you need from daddy?" He teases, never averting his eyes from your gaze.

"Please," You whine, "Need you to to move, need daddy to make me come!" And without hesitation, he picks up the pace, rapidly fucking you while his hands grip the headboard. You can hear it hitting the wall, and suddenly you're glad he has a house instead of an apartment. The noises you're making are obscene, something any practiced Catholic would need to cross themselves after hearing. "Feels so good daddy!" You spit, earning a groan from him.

Tom turned almost animalistic during sex; his grunts sounding more and more like growls as he fucks you brainless. "Fuck!" He moans, taking a hand off of the wood above you. He quickly puts his free hand on your throat, squeezing and forcing your eyes to meet his once again. "Like being choked by daddy, yeah? Like daddy to make you feel powerless, hm?" He smirks, observing the visual pleasure and shock on your face.

You're so close, you can feel yourself on the verge of your orgasm, and his dirty talk was pushing you even closer. The hand on your throat squeezed, and you clenched down on him, causing Tom to curse under his breath. "Want your cum daddy," You squeak out, "Pleasepleaseplease!" You mumble in strands of pleasure.

"Feel so good," He praises. "Come for me, be a good girl and come for daddy, yeah?" He was fucking you hard, and fast, and he still managed to pick up the pace. His skin slapped against your skin, filling the room with hard smacks and grunts and moans; endless strings of 'daddy' and 'good girl' running from both of your lips.

"Want you inside me daddy," You choke out. Your head lolls to the side and bounces against the pillow, a lazy smile forming on your face. "P-please!" You whine.

That pushed Tom over the edge. He was too far lost in himself, leaning down and growling into your ear. "Ask and you shall receive," he teases.

As if on cue, you both come together, the wave of pleasure rushing over you both. You could feel his warmth filling you up, leaking down your heat and spilling onto his bed. "Fuck, Y/n!" He grunts, "Took me so so well little girl."

You couldn't think, let alone speak. Tom stayed inside of you, helping you ride out your orgasm, not wanting the feeling of your sweet sex to leave him. He took his hand off of your throat and stroked the site, soothing the redness with a sultry kiss. You hummed in response, letting your body fall limp. After a few moments, he pulled out.

About three things Tom was absolutely certain: One, he should’ve never become romantically entangled with one of his students. Two, engaging in this behavior put his entire career in jeopardy due to it being wildly illegal. Three, he was, without a doubt in his mind, unconditionally in love with everything about you.

As you laid on his chest, foreheads drenched in sweat and bodies stuck together, you felt more at home than you'd like to admit. One hand messaged your back, drawing figure-eights on your skin, and the other pet your hair, occasionally drawing his lips close to kiss the top of your head. You burrowed your head into him, clinging onto his body. He grinned.

"I should've never let it go this far," Tom said, his voice raspy and deep with post-sex clarity, "but I'm afraid I'm in too deep to give it up now." He let out a low laugh, your head bouncing with his chest.

You smiled. "I'm afraid I wouldn't have been able to return to normal after this," You commented, "and, well, not to be dramatic but having sex with your professor twice your age does things to you." Tom chuckled, looking down at you and tilting your head up to meet his eyes.

"This is all so wrong," He mumbled, furrowing his eyebrows and pressing his lips together, "And yet I wouldn't have it any other way." He pressed a kiss to your lips, the kind of kiss that left a permanent stain of love and lust on your mouth. It was deep, meaningful, and romantic. Tom stared at you, taking in your features and basking in each and every one. "You are breathtaking, darling."

You hid your face in his neck, attempting to suppress the toothy grin you'd almost shown him, however he pulls your head up with his pointer finger and thumb, admiring your rosy cheeks. "Poor baby, so sensitive to my compliments," He jests, letting out a low hum.

You roll your eyes at him. "It's not my fault that daddy somehow knows all of the words that light a fire in me," You emphasize on the word 'daddy,' which forces what sounded like a groan from the back of his throat. "I don't want to go," You admit, falling back into his embrace.

"I know love," He says calmly, stroking your hair and pulling you into him tight. "We can stay like this as long as you'd like, but eventually I'll have to bring you back."

You hum into just chest. "Just a little bit longer," you say to Tom. "I'm still recovering."

⟡

When you arrived back at your dorm, much later than you anticipated, Elio looked at you with an eyebrow raised and a smirk on his face. "Back so soon?"

"Shut up," You laughed, dropping your bag to the ground and kicking off your shoes. You wobbled into the dorm, legs still sore and threatening your balance. Clearly Elio had noticed this, as the first thing he said after greeting you was "Well aren't your movements suspicious," and your cheeks flushed red. "I do not need to explain my late night endeavors and my later night actions," You began, "But,"

"But..?" Elio lead, leaning forward in his seat.

"But." You ended, pressing your lips together with a hidden grin and nodding your head.

"No!" He gasped, smiling widely and clasping his hands, putting his chin on the top of his fingers. "Please tell me everything! Not that I need to know the gory details of your sex life but, like, was he..?" Elio put his hands in front of him, fingers forward, and spread his arms apart.

"Shut up!" You giggled, swatting his hands. "But yes. Yes he was. Very."

"I knew it." He said, shaking his head. "I knew he was packing."

"Not to ruin our gossip but I need to lay down with a heating pad or something because standing is hurting my body," You laughed. "I think that man busted my cervix."

"Okay, TMI," He said, rolling his eyes. "But honestly go get some rest, lord knows you need it for seeing him tomorrow."

You were confused at first, then realized that tomorrow you had Tom for English, and you had absolutely no idea how you were supposed to face him when the night before he had you moaning 'daddy' and railed you into oblivion. But that was an issue you could deal with tomorrow. Probably. Hopefully.

ⓒ THEFAEFICTION, 2023. DO NOT TRANSLATE, REPUBLISH, OR CROSS-POST WITHOUT EXPLICIT CONSENT.

[knifefightscene]

[zoesupreme]

there's some absolutely insane takes on the WGA strike over on twitter this morning

[splorpo]