Summary: You’re loud, both during intimacy and on a regular basis. That’s part of the reason Tim loves you so much. He also loves control.
Warnings: Smut, suggestive comments, call during intimacy, if you’re out-freaked just scroll, tears during intimacy.
It had started out as any other date night you had with Tim. He’d come to your place, you would both watch a movie on your bed, and as the movie progressed you would press closer and closer. You had it down like clockwork. Snuggle closer to him, then buck your hips softly, then whisper a “Timmy…”
As the end credits played out on the laptop, you rolled over and turned on your bedside lamp with a soft click. The warm yellow light illuminated from the lamp, bathing everything in a soft, golden hour haze.
Tim closed the laptop, setting it atop the nightstand on his side. Sliding right back into your little nook, you slid your hand into his hoodie. “Tim,” you whined, shifting against his thigh, attempting to get any kind of friction.
Lifting you to straddle his lap, Tim let you get as much friction as you craved. “You need something, baby? Use your words for me,” he murmured, hands roaming up your shirt. His hands worked to slide it off, leaving you in the lacy black bra that you know he adored.
“Need you,” you replied, sliding your sweatpants off. “Need you so fucking bad, Timmy. Please don’t tease me.”
One thing lead to another, and eventually you ended up on your back, with Tim working inside of you. Each thrust was ruthless, causing you to babble and moan.
“Yes, Tim—Oh, God! Right there. Don’t—Y-yeah,” you stuttered, letting him pin your hands above your head. You were loud. You knew it, too. “Oh God-“
“God’s not here right now,” he growled out, unpinning your hands to cage your head in with his arms. “You say my name. Got it?”
When you first met Tim, you thought he was quiet, shy, and maybe a bit of a nerd. And while those things can be true at certain times, you definitely never imagined yourself being told to moan his name. “Fuck, Tim. Fuck…”
Just as things started to get good, his phone rung. The first time, he ignored it. The second time, he silenced his phone. The third time, he picked the phone up, looking down at you without stopping his rhythm.
“This is important. I don’t want a single sound out of you. Got it?”
Confused, you grabbed at his shoulder. “If it’s so important then why don’t you just-“
Tim cut you off by pressing the answer button and glaring at you. “Dick? Hey, man,” he chirped, sounding like he had won the fucking lottery. Simultaneously, he drove deeper into you, burying himself to the hilt and dragging out before slamming back in with the same intensity.
You couldn’t stop it. A small squeal escaped your lips. Dick continues to yap. “I was calling to see how to turn my do not disturb off, but—what was that? You feeling alright?”
“I’m feeling just fine,” Tim responds, covering your mouth with one hand. “But you called me three times, insisting it was important, and it could have been fixed with a single google search.”
His shoulder raised, holding the phone with his cheek, and his free hand started to dip lower. Finding your clit, he started to rub hot, tight circles with his thumb. Tim shoved his hand over your mouth again, freezing when you took his fingers into your mouth.
“Well that’s my bad, Timmy. See you later. Make sure you get some rest, you sound a little…off,” mutters Dick, hanging up. Tim basically threw the phone across the room before pounding into your pussy like tomorrow isn’t an option.
Your hands scratch at his back, cries tearing out of your through. Release curled low and hot in your gut, getting closer and closer with every thrust. “Tim, It’s gonna happen.”
And it does happen. Together. When your mind finally sobers up, you realize you’re on his chest, with soft kisses being pressed to your forehead. You swatted his chest, sitting up.
“Did you really have to answer a stupid call from your brother in the middle of fucking me?!” You exclaim, watching in disbelief as he giggled. “It was hot, no? Come on,” he teased, bringing you back down with him.
“Whatever,” you grumble, feeling your crotch start to wetter again at the mere thought of it.
⋆˚☆˖°⋆。° ✮˖ ࣪ ⊹⋆.˚ ⋆˚☆˖°⋆。° ✮˖ ࣪ ⊹⋆.˚ ⋆˚☆˖°⋆。° ✮˖ ࣪ ⊹⋆.˚
OK CUTIES I LOVE TOU ALL SORRY FOR THE SHITPOSTS I JUST DO THIS FOR FUN LOVE YOUUUU.