Violet

Violet | she/her | 20s

[violette-hue]

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[sweetplea]

robb stark adores his wife so much that it terrifies him.

truthfully it was not a union built on love. it was about alliance, power and everything in between if the gods were pleased enough. robb studied you as any smart, dutiful husband would. regardless of personal feelings and the lack of affection in the beginning of your marriage, your comfort was his priority. so he watched— and watched.

he found himself noticing things. memorizing them, even.

the crinkle of your nose when you’re displeased with someone’s presence, the way your eyes widen the moment you’re the smallest bit shocked or confused, the reach you make for his hand when you’re walking alone in the halls. except your fingers never grab onto his, they only brush together. a minuscule touch, a hint of a promise. it makes his heart rate pickup more than he ever knew was possible, and suddenly it all comes together. it’s no longer about obligation or courtly responsibilities. it’s festering into something so pure and innocent that he’s not sure if he deserves it. it’s warm as it blooms in his chest, as he watches you smooth your hands over your gown with grace.

robb feels blessed when it amounts to you being under him, just like he knew he would. it’s not for the sake of an heir. it has never been about that. his hands tremble. he can taste you and your kisses on his tongue— you’re sweet like freshly harvested honey. and you’re clawing at him, gasping and sinking into the furs and fabrics keeping your now shared bed warm as he presses into you with purpose like he has dreamt about night after freezing night.

he chokes on a sound that tears through his throat like a claw. it harmonizes with your own whimpers. his eyes are half lidded, his gaze is reverent as his hands glide over your soft skin. he feels you struggling to take him. one palm settles on your lower stomach while the other presses into the back of your thigh, making you gasp at the new angle. your cunt flutters over every inch of his cock, each vein that’s buried in your silky heat. it’s where he’s always belonged. he could’ve savored you this entire time instead of being too afraid to take what’s his by right, he realizes. at that, he curls over you.

“my sweet, sweet lady wife.”

he breathes into your open mouth, his arms slipping underneath your back so suddenly, forcing you to arch up into him with a moan falling from your lips that he swallows up. just so he can press you against his chest and keep you safe beneath him while he has all of you at last.

[violette-hue]

Let's Get to Know One Another (Pt. 2)

Summary: Robb fulfills his promise to Walder Frey and marries one of his daughters for passage through the Green Fork, but marriage isn't exactly what you thought it would be.

Trigger Warning(s): MDNI, smut, angst, fluff (sort of?), arranged marriage, unprotected sex, not proof read

Word Count: 4k

Part One | Part Two

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**Minors and ageless blogs do not interact. 18+ only**

This certainly was hell. Months of silence from your husband had you nearing deliria. You hadn’t even seen him since your wedding night. When you’d woken up, sore and groggy, Robb was already gone. You’d heard from the maid that changed the blood specked sheets that he’d already passed through the Green Fork with his men. You had traveled with Catelyn back to Winterfell. It had been a long journey, but Catelyn, surprisingly, warmed up to you. You had learned from her that this war, for Robb, was about getting his sisters back and avenging his father. You had also learned about the healer, Talisa, and how she had taken the initiative in offering medical care to the injured. It was no wonder why Robb had fallen in love with her. She was a beautiful saint. 

A month later Robb and his men marched solemnly through the gates of Winterfell, injured. You had tried to run down to him, but Talisa had made it there before you could even move. The looks they exchanged, the touches they shared made you physically sick. The maester and maids thought you were with child, but Catelyn knew. She’d given you a look that seemed to say she knew what you were feeling. Later that night, when your husband hadn’t gone to visit you, she’d gone in his stead. Catelyn had shared the betrayal she’d been subjected to from her late husband, how he’d asked her to raise his love child. You cried in her arms that night and woke up alone. You’d woken up alone every night since. The only moments you shared with Robb were when you passed by him in the halls. He wouldn’t even look at you. 

Rumors were spreading through the castle that Robb was hovering over Talisa, helping her with the injured. The hovering you believed. The helping part, not so much. He had said he was a man of honor, but with every day that passed you doubted that more and more. Despite the rumors that you were with child, Robb hadn’t visited you in the month he’d returned. You were starting to believe that he’d never visit you. Why would he, if he was with his love?

You sniffled into your wet pillow. You’d been in bed since you woke up, crying. A maid had entered the room, but you quickly sent her out with a lie that you weren’t feeling well. Moments later a bowl of porridge was brought to you and left on your vanity. You stared at the bowl now, stomach twisting. You had made a terrible mistake offering yourself to marriage. The Twins seemed more like home than Winterfell – you’d much prefer bullying than silence. Your chest tightened. 

A soft creak echoed through the barren room as the door opened. Quiet footsteps entered the room, then stopped by the side of the bed. You huffed, keeping your back to them. 

“I told you I’m not feeling well,” you grumbled. “Please leave.”

“I thought you’d be more happy to see your husband.”

Your back stiffened at the sound of Robb’s voice. He was here, alone in your room after months of silence. You pushed yourself onto a hand, turning to face him. The thick blanket fell to your waist to reveal your thin night gown. He barely noticed. 

Robb gave you a sheepish smile. “Are you alright? I heard…the news.”

Your brows knit together, your lips parted in disbelief. “Get out.”

Robb stood there, shock and confusion knitting his brows together. He shook his head as if to clear it. “What..?”

“Get. Out.” you repeated. “You do not get to waltz around with your lover while your wife is waiting for you. You’ve been here for a month, Robb, and now you decide to visit me? Get. Out.”

Shame dawned on Robb’s face. “I didn’t know how to approach you after they told me about the child,” he admitted, shoulders slumped. He looked smaller than before, like the admission had weighed on him.

“There never was a child,” you responded. Tears stung your eyes now. “Seeing you with your lover makes me ill. You lied to me.” With what strength you could muster, you chucked your pillow at his face. “Get out!”

The pillow bounced off of Robb’s face and fell to the floor with a soft thump. He looked at you, his expression softening. Instead of leaving, he did the exact opposite. He climbed onto the bed slowly, extending a hand to cup your face. His thumb swiped away something wet on your cheek. When had you started crying again? 

“I’m sorry,” he said softly. “I should’ve come to see you sooner.” His thumb swiped at another tear. “I can assure you, I have no lover. I’ve been helping Talisa with the wounded, but I’ve been in council the rest of the time.”

You sniffled. “I do not believe you.” You pulled his hand away. “I saw the way you looked at each other when you arrived.”

Robb took a deep breath. He unbuckled the cloak he wore and draped it over the vanity’s chair. “What must I do for you to believe me?” He made to reach for you again, but kept his hands to himself. 

You sat up, scooting backwards until your back hit the bed’s headboard. You looked at him, at his freshly cut hair and scruffy beard, at his icy blue eyes that bore holes into yours. You wanted to tell him to kick Talisa out, to ban her from the castle – the town. The sincerity in his features made you think twice. No one could control who they fell in love with, so you shouldn’t blame Robb. 

“Stay with me tonight,” you said quietly. 

Robb gave a lazy smile. “Alright. Would you like to stay here, or in my chambers?”

You blinked. You hadn’t thought he’d agree so quickly – or at all. “You’d be more comfortable in your chambers…” you trailed off. You looked at your barren room. The planeness wasn’t suitable for a King in the North. You only had a bed and vanity. Technically, the room wasn’t suitable for you as Robb’s wife, but you hadn’t really cared. Truthfully, you hadn’t cared about much since arriving in Winterfell. 

Robb nodded, pushing himself off the bed. He extended a hand towards you. Flashbacks of your wedding night flooded your mind, of almost the same scenario. A warm, shaky hand helping you up, icy blue eyes looking into your soul. Your cheeks heated, but you took his hand without hesitation. 

“I’m only in a nightgown, I need to get dressed,” you said, moving towards your still unpacked chest. You didn’t own many dresses, but that didn’t mean you had to walk around in your sleepwear. 

“There’s no need,” Robb responded. You felt heavy fabric drape over your shoulders and fur tickle your neck. 

You didn’t have a chance to look at what Robb had covered you with, though you were sure it was his cloak. Robb’s bent towards you, placing an arm under your knees and scooping you up. You let out a surprised yelp, clawing at Robb’s cloak to cover your modesty. In a few swift movements, Robb was walking out of your room and down the hall. Every turn you encountered shocked staff who bowed then walked away fast. You tried to cover your face with Robb’s cloak, but you were curious what the rest of Winterfell looked like. You hadn’t done much exploring upon your arrival, and after witnessing Robb with Talisa in the courtyard, you’d stayed confined to your bed chamber. 

Robb made a turn, then another one until he approached a large door. The door was similar to your own, but different, more expensive looking. He opened the door with ease, stepping inside and closing the door in a swift movement. He placed you down gently, your feet landing on the cold floor. Robb’s room was larger than yours and far more decorated. A four poster bed lay against a wall in the middle with two end tables on either side. A small sofa sat in front of a large fireplace with a sturdy coffee table in between. A large plush fur rug was placed under the bed and a smaller matching rug was placed under the sofa. There weren’t many decorations adorning the walls or furniture, save for a stack of books next to the coffee table and on one of the nightstands. You stepped towards the nearest stack of books and grabbed the first from the top. The words as you leafed through the pages were familiar, from a fairytale you’d grown up reading. 

“Do you enjoy reading?” you asked, grabbing the next book and leafing through the pages. Another fairytale.

Robb hummed in response. He grabbed the book from his nightstand and held it out for you. “This one is my favorite,” he said with a sheepish smile. 

You took the book and smiled. You knew this story very well. “When I was younger, my brothers would take my things and ruin them. They’d rip my dolls apart and tear pages out of my books. This copy was the only one I was able to save.” You smiled to yourself, running your fingers over the worn edges. “I was never allowed to buy more books, so I could only reread this one until it practically disintegrated.”

Robb smiled, one that reached his eyes and your heart flipped in your stomach. “You are more than welcome to read from my personal collection,” he said. “I promise, no one will tear them to shreds.”

You turned to place the books back where they belonged and giggled. Your hands were shaking…why? You’d been alone with Robb before, had shared a bed with him – once. You were far from being familiar, but by the gods, this was your husband. You chewed on the inside of your lip. Husband. Your stomach flipped again. What in the hells was this feeling and why was it leaving you incapacitated? 

“Do you have any other interests?” you asked, running your fingers along the spines of the books.

“I haven’t had the time for any interests as of late, but my interest is to be with my family,” Robb responded. He moved to the fireplace, tossing some wood inside. He ignited a fire, shoving around some of the wood with a poker.

You felt the heat immediately, but taking off the cloak had you feeling too self conscious. Too exposed. Underneath your nightgown was a thin, white cotton fabric that left very little to the imagination. While you had shared a bed with Robb, your clothes hadn’t been fully removed. Your cheeks burned as images from your wedding night flooded your mind. Robb hadn’t even fully disrobbed. He’d taken everything off save for his undergarment, and when he’d inserted himself in you, he’d only pushed it down to his thighs. He wouldn’t let you disrobe completely, either. Your wedding gown was removed, but your chemise stayed on the whole time and had been hiked up to your thighs for the consummation. Robb hadn’t looked at you, had just pushed himself inside and moved. He had been gentle and loving in his own way, but he was just fulfilling a duty.

You nearly jumped out of your skin when you felt Robb tugging off the cloak from behind you. You had been so lost in your thoughts – in your memory – that you hadn’t noticed Robb comment on your flushed face and attribute it to the heat. He discarded the cloak on the sofa, leaving you feeling exposed. Instinctively, you crossed your arms over your chest. 

You watched as Robb undid the buttons on his coat, revealing a thin white shirt underneath. He removed that, too, discarding everything on top of the cloak on the sofa. He turned to you with that lazy smile. 

“I know it’s the middle of the day still, but I’d like us to spend more time together. Afterall, I made a promise that we’d get to know one another.” Robb shoved his clothes to the far end of the sofa and sat on the opposite end. He gave a small wave. “Come here.”

You obliged, albeit, with timidness. You sat next to Robb on the sofa, stiffer than a rod, arms still over your chest. Robb gently wrapped his hands around your waist and pulled you back into his chest. You let him guide your placement, shifting your body to mold with his on the sofa. 

“Tell me what it was like to grow up with Walder Frey as your father,” Robb said. His hand idly stroked along the length of your arm. 

You told him stories of your childhood, of what it was like to grow up with your father. Or, rather, without your father. You lived in the same place, but he hated his children and stayed far away from them until they were old enough to tolerate. You exchanged stories of your childhood, both the good and bad. Over the hours of stories, you allowed yourself to relax, to become comfortable in Robb’s arms. Your arms migrated from your chest, with one arm draped lazily over your stomach and the other combing your fingers through Robb’s curls. The moment felt intimate, far more than your wedding night. His laugh did things to your body you didn’t even know were possible. After your stomach flipped for the umpteenth time, you had an inkling of what could be the cause. 

Love.

How you had fallen in love with a man you’d only seen twice, including today, you had no idea. You even hesitated to call it that, but the way his smile made your insides flutter was confirmation. You were in love with Robb Stark. But he was in love with someone else. Someone you could never compare to, someone who had taken all of Robb’s attention since you’d known him. 

You grew quiet with the realization, your fingers absentmindedly combing through his hair. Robb had been tracing swirls on your stomach, the fabric of your nightgown bunching right above your knees. 

“Is everything alright?” Robb asked, breath brushing against the shell of your ear and voice down an octave. The husky tone sent a shiver up your spine. 

You could only nod and shift your position slightly. Robb stilled underneath you, his hand flattening on your stomach.

“Are you sure?” he questioned.

You pushed yourself into a seated position, twisting your back slightly to look him in the face. “Do you think we’d learn to love each other? Like in your fairytales?” you said finally. “Like your parents?”

Robb studied your face, eyes dipping briefly down your chest and to where his hand still lay on your stomach – to the ring on his finger. “I think so,” he admitted. “If you had asked me on our wedding day, I would have said no. But spending time with you today has started to change my mind.”

You nodded, bringing a leg to drape over Robb’s thigh. Now fully facing him, you realized the proximity of your bodies. Your fingers traced over his sternum, nail gliding through the soft, thin curls on his chest. “I’ve enjoyed today,” you said softly. “Thank you.”

Robb’s chuckle rumbled through his chest, sending vibrations through your finger. “Why are you thanking me?”

You shifted onto his lap, your other leg moving to drape over his other thigh so that you were straddling him. You felt a bulge beneath you, resting against your bottom. Robb’s hands rest on either hip and the blues of his eyes became stormy.

“You took time away from your council to spend with your wife – a nobody in the grand scheme of things.”

Robb shook his head. “You’re not a nobody. You’re my wife and the mother to my future children.”

Your stomach did that flip again, your cheeks heating. “All the same, thank you for taking the time to be with me.” You chewed on the inside of your lip and shifted again. Whatever was underneath you was making it a bit uncomfortable to stay in the same position. “And staying with me tonight.”

Robb’s eyes shut tightly and he loosed a breath. “It doesn’t just have to be tonight. We can ask the staff to move your things in here.”

You shifted again, trying to find your way around the lump beneath you. “I wouldn’t want to impose–”

“For the love of the gods, stop moving,” Robb breathed, pressing his fingers into your hips. 

You stilled, brows knitting together. “Are you okay?”

Robb nodded. When his eyes opened, they were darker than you’d ever seen them. “You wiggling on my lap…you’re rubbing against me.”

You tilt your head to the side. You didn’t see anything wrong with that, so why did Robb look like he was in pain? You tried to think on it – clearly he wasn’t going to tell you outright. You noted the tinge of pink on his cheeks and his deep breathing. You pondered over the thought that that maybe he wasn’t in pain, but somehow was the opposite. Despite the tight grip on your hips, you moved them again, this time down against his lap. The soft moan that came from his lips was enough confirmation – he wasn’t in pain at all. And the sound, you’d heard something similar come from him during your wedding night when he was buried in you. You moved again, bracing yourself with your hands against his chest.

“Please,” he whimpered. “You don’t know what you’re doing.”

Your stomach tightened at the whimper, at the way his eyes darkened and looked up at you with hooded lids. You could feel your heartbeat thump in your chest, thump in your lower abdomen. “I think I do,” you breathed, moving your hips again. 

Robb groaned loudly, eyes nearly rolling back in his head. “Don’t start something you cannot finish,” he said darkly, hands pushing you down harder against him. 

The lump beneath you twitched and pulsed against your bottom. You scoot back just a fraction, enough so the large bump was against the ache between your legs. You were breathing deeply now, too, excitement coursing through your veins. 

“I can finish,” you said between breaths. Your nails scratched lightly on Robb’s chest as your fingers flexed. 

Robb looked at you with skepticism, watched you look down at him with a gaze drunken and weighed down by lust. He swallowed hard and moved a hand from your waist. Slowly and a bit unsure, he moved his hand beneath your night gown and up your thigh. Your heart beat harder against your chest as his fingers danced along your inner thigh, then up, up until they separated your slick folds. His thumb found purchase on the small bud between your legs and added a slight pressure. The sound that came from your lips shocked you, heat instantly creeping up your neck to your face. Robb gave you a crooked grin, then moved his thumb in tight circles. 

A string of curses slipped through, earning a chuckle from your husband. Yes, your husband, who was touching you so intimately – and looking at you. His gaze felt heavy against your skin, but in the best way possible. The whimpers and moans grew louder and so did the pressure in your abdomen. Your stomach tightened, your legs tightened, and the feeling suddenly became too much to bear. You gripped Robb’s wrist tightly as another moan pushed through you. His free hand moved to your thigh, pushing your legs to open more. 

“Relax, baby,” he breathed, thumb circling faster. “You’re doing such a good job.” 

He shoved your nightgown further up, fully exposing your sopping cunt. You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to listen and relax your limbs. Two fingers pushed into you slowly, then curled, You cried out loudly and swore you could see the night sky as the fingers curled and uncurled, thumb circled and circled. Your abdomen tightened, then fluttered as you went over your climax. Your body shook against Robb’s hand, squeezed his fingers still inside you. You wanted more – needed more. 

“Robb,” you whimpered, looking down at him through half lidded eyes. “Give me more–please–”

Robb chuckled in response, removing his fingers out and away from you. A guttural whine scratched your throat. That wasn’t what you asked for, you needed more. You ground your hips against Robb’s bulge, rocking for more friction. The action only prompted another chuckle from Robb, who too slowly pulled your tightgown over your head. His eyes drank you in, roaming over your peaked breasts to your seeping cunt. He raised his hips, shoving his trousers and garments down his thighs in one fluid movement. His cock rocked back on his stomach, the tip glistening. Instinctively, your hand wrapped around his girth, emanating a groan from your husband. You hadn’t seen his cock on your wedding night, had only felt it inside you. It had felt big then, but by the gods it looked so much bigger. Your mouth dried at the size, your mind swarming – how was he going to fit inside you? Your thumb stroked the pink tip, smearing the clear liquid around. Robb shivered in return, jaw going slack. 

“Don’t worry, it’ll fit,” Robb said. “Lift your hips, baby.” 

You obeyed, letting Robb guide you to hover over his thick cock. You swallowed hard as he lowered your hips, and when his tip started to stretch your entrance, breathed in sharply. It hadn’t felt like this on your wedding night. He felt bigger, thicker – more. You breathed through a loud moan, lowering yourself fully until you were sitting on his lap again. Gods, you could feel him in your stomach – and it felt so good. You rocked your hips, the tip of his cock brushing inside you. 

Your fingers dug into Robb’s shoulders as you rocked faster against him. His moans merged with your own, until the room echoed with the sounds of your pleasures. His hands moved to your ass, bringing you up and down on his cock. He made a frustrated sound, and in an instant you found yourself on your back with Robb buried deeply inside you. He moved in and out in fast movements, pulling himself out to the tip, then in until his hilt. Your moans morphed into cries, practically screams as he pushed himself deeper and harder into you. His balls smacked against your cunt with a lewd, wet noise over, and over, and over again until your hearing turned fuzzy. That familiar tightening in your abdomen came back, coiling and coiling with every thrust.

Then, Robb’s thumb found its way back to the sensitive spot between your legs and you saw the heavens. A strangled scream intertwined with a moan escaped from your lips and bounced off the stone walls. Robb pushed into you as your climax rolled through you, until your legs were shaking and finally, he pressed hard against you. Buried to the hilt and filling you deeply, you felt his cock twitch inside you, felt his seed spill inside you. 

Your ears were ringing, your head was fuzzy, and your legs were numb. Your chest rose and fell harshly as you tried to calm your body. Robb was no better above you. His sweat coated forehead rest against yours, his breath fanning over your mouth. His chest rose and fell with each deep breath he took, but he stayed buried inside you. 

“You did such a good job, baby,” Robb breathed. “You took me so well.”

You smiled, your cheeks warming. You placed your hands on the back of his neck and pulled him closer. Your lips met his in a sloppy, breathy kiss. His lips moved against yours, a hand cupping your cheek. He kissed you with fever, with a sort of desperation you didn’t expect. 

When he pulled away, a smile graced his features. “I’ll be asking the staff to move your things first thing tomorrow morning,” he said. He pushed off of you, sliding his cock out and helping you up. “But first, a bath.”

You nodded in agreement, holding his arm tightly to help you remain steady. A few steps and Robb turned toward you. Without warning, he cupped your face and kissed you once more. His touch was gentle, kind. The warmth that bloomed in your chest chased any thoughts of hell away. Maybe you were in it, maybe it was still yet to come.

[violette-hue]

Cold Feet

Summary: You catch your betrothed running away from your wedding.

Trigger Warning(s): arranged marriage, old timey gender roles, not proof read, slightly rushed

Word Count: 1.4k

The cool breeze against your heated cheeks felt good. Almost refreshing, were your heart not trying to jump out of your chest. Today was the day your life would change, and you still didn’t know if it was for better or worse. You were to be married to one of the princes in a few hours. You didn’t know much about him – only his name. Loki. The younger prince was a mystery to you, though. He’d made a point to make his presence scarce whenever you visited the palace, leaving only Thor to entertain you. You knew how he looked, almost everyone did. His inky hair and ice blue eyes were a hot topic amongst the ladies of the court. Well, those who weren’t ogling over Thor. You couldn’t help but wonder if Loki even knew who you were or how you looked. You supposed he would soon. 

You took a deep breath, the fabric of the wedding dress scratching against your skin. Everything you wore was hand picked for you. You had seen the dress when you were told a few weeks ago that the arrangement had been made. Everything had been tailored for him, it seemed – no one cared what you wanted. But what was it you wanted? Not to get married to a man you didn’t know, that was for sure. The freedom to choose your own clothes and not worry about your posture. A deep sigh pushed through your lips. Such fantasies weren’t for you – the boning of the dress poking at your sides reminded you of that. 

A rustle of the bushes had you whirling to your left. No one should be here, the gardens you were in were private. So why the hell was a long leg popping out of the flowers? The leg, clothed in black, found purchase on the lush green grass and was followed by its twin. A body emerged with an oomph, back facing you. It was a man, tall and lithe but lean. His hair was the same shade as the night and rest upon his shoulders. Slowly, he turned toward you, dark brows furrowed and set atop piercing blue eyes. Your mouth parted and your heart skipped a beat.

“Who are you?” you asked, voice wavering. You knew the answer long before you asked the question, but you needed confirmation. Needed to know this wasn’t a delusion conjured by your stress. 

Slender fingers straightened the lapel of formal wear. Shoulders squared, back straightened, he answered, “Prince Loki Laufeyson.” His eyes narrowed. “I’m assuming you’re the bride.” There was a bite in his tone. 

“I am,” you answered softly. “I am your bride.”

Loki’s limbs became visibly rigid. He looked you up and down, his brow creasing. His face was a mask of indifference, but you could see his muscles loosen a fraction. Was he pleased? Suddenly, you became too aware of his too blue eyes on you. Your skin prickled and pimpled. 

“It’s bad luck to see the bride before the wedding,” you said, shuffling your feet. 

Loki scoffed. “As if that would make a difference. Our lives have already been decided for us,” he responded, voice dripping with acid. 

Anger bubbled in your chest. “Why are you here, Loki?”

He stepped forward, away from the bushes. He looked you over again, really, looked you over. The corner of his mouth tugged slightly as his eyes roamed over your waist and torso. “I was running away.”

You rolled your eyes, placing a hand on your hip. “Is that so? Then by all means —” you gestured to the many exits around you “—don’t let me get in your way.” You knew Loki was known for his mischievous antics, and if this was one of them, you were not in the mood. If he were telling the truth, good riddance. You were sure Loki could be a kind man and a dutiful husband, but you didn’t want a husband. Not now at least. If he ran now, he’d be sparing you both. 

Loki tilted his head to the side. “You aren’t going to stop me?”

It was your turn to scoff. “As if I have any power over a prince of Asgard.” You waved him off, walking towards the veranda attached to your room. “I do not beg. If your desire is to run, then run already.”

You heard a dry laugh from behind you, then the crunch of grass. “I think we both know that running is not a viable option. My father would find me, then drag me to the altar himself if needed. In chains if he wished.”

You huffed out a breath, annoyed by his presence. Why state the obvious? It was like rubbing salt on an open wound. Both of your futures had been decided for you. You were to wed against your protests. You leaned against a pillar, your shoulder bumping into the marble a bit harder than intended. 

“Like I said,” you drawled, “you’re free to leave.” With your back towards him, boldness bubbled in your chest. “You’d be doing us both a favor.” Secretly, you did wish he’d leave. The chains binding you together would be broken, but would they be bound to someone else? You mused over the thought. If Loki left, would they force him to come back, or would they have Thor fill his shoes? You supposed you wouldn’t mind that. Afterall, Thor was kind and warm and very handsome. But you’d certainly become a target amongst the ladies of the court. You chewed on the inside of your cheek. You didn’t want that – didn’t want marriage at all. Why couldn’t they just set you free? 

“‘Favor,’” Loki repeated, tasting the word. “And what would that favor be? Letting them walk you down the line of marriage arrangements until one sticks? Being cut off from my family – my wealth? That doesn’t sound like a favor.”

You pushed out a breath. “Your window to run is closing.”

Footsteps sounded behind you, light and calculated. “Let’s make a deal.” Your shoulders tensed, sensing the danger behind his words. He didn’t give you an opportunity to respond before he continued. “We’ll get married and explore our freedoms in this new status. Eyes won’t be on us anymore – no one will tell us what we can or can’t do. There won’t be a need for a child, Thor bears the burden to produce an heir.” Loki scoffed. “Honestly, I’m surprised they’re forcing you to wed me instead of him.” 

You pursed your lips, thinking his words over and what they implied. Freedom. You almost laughed at the word. You turned around to face Loki, stifling your surprise when your nose almost brushed against him. You looked up at him, eyes narrowed. “This version of freedom you are speaking of will paint me to be a fool. If this is your version of a compromise to something we are forced to do, then I only ask that you exercise your freedoms in private. If I wish to exercise those freedoms, I’ll do so in private, too. It’s important that there be at least some respect.” 

Loki nodded in agreement. He looked down at you, eyes grazing over your features. He lifted a hand, his knuckles brushing against your cheekbone with a softness you didn’t think Loki was capable of. Or maybe it was a disinterest you were misinterpreting as softness. “I agree to those terms.” 

He took a step back, then another. He took another good look at you, then vanished in a plume of green and black mist, as if he’d never been there in the first place. The arrangement wasn’t what you wanted, but maybe you could work with it. Maybe you’d be able to use it to your advantage. You turned back to your room and sat at the vanity. You took a good look in the mirror. You could do this. You could get through this marriage. 

Hours later you found yourself walking down the aisle in Odin’s throne room to Loki. He looked as regal as when you saw him, hair brushed back and armor shining. Vows were exchanged like a business deal, and moments later you were wed to the second prince of Asgard. You could only hope that Loki would hold up his end of the deal. Though, a part of you, maybe bigger than you’d like to admit, hoped that you’d one day learn to love one another and live happily. As you stole a glance to your new husband, hope bloomed just a fraction. Your future was now your own, at least more than it was before. That was enough for now.

[violette-hue]

Elevator Ride

Summary: Ushijima Wakatoshi is a dick and you're stuck in an elevator with him.

Content: MDNI, cursing, smut, unprotected sex, slight (?) enemies to lovers

Word Count: 1.7k

A/N: Random piece I found in my archives :)

Things literally could not have ended up worse. There you were, trapped in an elevator with the ultimate douche bag: Ushijima Wakatoshi. Why the hell did he have to be so blunt all the time? Or so cocky? Has this man never heard of being humble?

You crossed your arms over your chest, leaning against the elevator wall far from said douche bag. You huffed in annoyance for the thousandth time, earning another pointed glare from Ushijima.

“Huffing won’t make the elevator work,” he stated matter of factly.

You rolled your eyes. “It seems it won’t make you disappear either,” you retorted, a bit of bite to your tone.

Ushijima stared down at you and you couldn’t quite pinpoint the look he was giving you. It seemed to be a mixture of annoyance and something else..? His features were hard, but his eyes were soft.

You tore your eyes away from him, not wanting to see him look down at you for god knows how long you’d be in this elevator. You pulled out your phone for some company, only to find zero bars. Great, just what you needed. Tense silence with a man you hated.

You huffed again. How the hell had you gotten into this situation? Oh. That’s right. The both of you were on your way to a dinner party with the team. You weren’t the manager or anything, but you helped out a lot since your uncle was the coach.

When you arrived in the parking garage, you opted to take the elevator up since you weren’t too keen on walking up stairs in heels. That’s when Ushijima showed up. He passed the elevator and had done a double take. You could tell he was debating on whether or not he should join you, and, before the doors could close, he stepped inside.

You mentally cursed yourself for not pressing the close door button as you adjusted your slip dress. True, it was only a dinner, but your uncle had chosen one of the fanciest restaurants in town and the occasion was black tie. You assumed there would be some sort of after party once the dinner was over.

You stole a glance at Ushijima, looking him up and down. You’d be lying if you said he didn’t look good in that suit. He looked very good. Instead of wearing a basic white button down with his suit, he wore a black turtleneck. You subconsciously bit your lip as your eyes trailed over his toned arms that were very noticeable in his jacket. Your eyes trailed up and met his gaze and you quickly looked away, cheeks heated. You saw him smirk from your peripherals and you scowled. Of course he would be a douche about catching you checking him out.

“Do I make you uncomfortable?” he asked after a moment of silence.

“Yes,” you answered, not daring to look towards him.

You heard him grunt and shuffle. “Why?” he questioned. You heard him step towards you and you tensed up.

“You’re a douche bag. You only care about yourself and you think you’re so much better than others,” you answered. The more you spoke, the more angry you became. “You’re so cocky and rude and…and arrogant! And for what? You’d be a lot more attractive if you just were a bit more humble!” Your breathing was ragged, your chest heaving. You were fully looking at him now, your eyes boring into his.

You searched his face for any sort of emotion. He was frowning and his eyes were no longer soft. Instead, they were dark and roamed down your body.

“Is that what you truly think of me?” he asked, the question coming out low and soft.

“Yes,” you breathed, sticking out your chin.

He shook his head. “I don't mean to be so arrogant. I know my talent and my worth, much like you…” he trailed off. “Please forgive me if I’ve made myself unbearable.”

You only just realized the lack of space between the two of you. Your chest was brushing against his with every breath you took and your faces were mere inches away from each other. You looked down to his lips, your mouth salivating at the thought of kissing him and having your way with him in this elevator. You snapped back to reality, shocked at your lewd thoughts.

You pushed him away, growling softly. “Oh, shut up! Don’t try and be nice now—god what the fuck is your problem?! You—you’re so—URGH!”

You crossed your arms over your chest and shoved yourself in the corner of the elevator, breathing heavily. You were so worked up and you had no idea why. Why was he getting you so angry so easily? You dared take another glance at him and instantly regretted it. You were met with another smirk, this time wider.

“I’m what?” Ushijima asked, stepping closer to you.

You shook your head, a lump forming in your throat. You didn’t trust yourself to speak, least you say something you’d regret. You instinctively backed further into the corner, looking anywhere but him. You could feel him looming over you--his eyes boring down into you. You shifted your stance, feeling suddenly small and heated. Why…why were you so heated?

“I’m. What?” he repeated, smirking a bit. He stepped even closer to you, tracing your jaw with a finger and tipping your chin up to look at him. “Look at me,” he ordered.

Your eyes flicked up to him, his words making your core throb. You cursed yourself for deciding not to wear underwear, feeling your wetness drip down your thigh. You examined his features, your eyes tracing over his eyes, then his lips. You wanted to kiss him so bad…to feel his warmth on you and his cock in you. Subconsciously, you puffed your chest out to show off your cleavage. You noticed his eyes trail down to your chest, then trail back up, stopping at your lips.

“Truly, you’re such an infuriating woman,” he admitted, cupping the back of your neck and placing his lips on yours before you could respond.

You stood there, shocked, but quickly kissed him back. His hands trailed down to your waist, pulling your hips flush against his. You let out a small gasp as you felt his hardness against you, the movement of your lips allowing Ushijima to slip in his tongue. He pulled you closer, his large hands settling on your ass, the fabric of your dress barely guarding you from his warmth. Ushijima squeezed your ass, pulling you even closer.

“Fuck, you’re so beautiful…” Ushijima murmured against your lips.

Your eyes flickered up to his, your hands trailing down his chest and to his belt. He watched you fumble with the buckle and helped you pull his trousers down. His bulge seemed bigger now that he was only covered with his boxer briefs. You stroked his length through his boxers and palmed him, eliciting a soft groan from Ushijima. God, you really didn’t want to get dirty in an elevator, but at this point, your cunt was practically begging for it.

Ushijima grabbed your wrist, pulling your hand away from his crotch and swiftly picking you up. He gripped your thighs and pinned you up against the elevator wall, his lips attaching to your neck. He sucked on the sensitive spot on your neck, earning a small moan from you. The position you were in caused your dress to hike up your thighs, your pretty pussy on display for Ushijima. He trailed his fingers down over your folds.

“You’re so wet already,” he mumbled, pecking your lips. “All this for my cock?”

You huffed, your chest puffing out again. “Well what if it was?” you asked, pursing your lips.

Ushijima let out a deep chuckle, pushing past your folds and softly circling over your clit. Your hips bucked up and you moaned, throwing your head back. His lips attached to your neck once more, adding a bit more pressure to your clit.

“U-Ushijima, please…” you whined, rolling your hips up. “The elevators can be fixed at any--!” You were interrupted by a loud moan as Ushijima eased his cock inside you.

Ushijima was a tall man, his features larger than most, but you hadn’t expected his cock to be this big. As he pushed himself deeper inside you, you felt every inch of his cock stretch you out. You gripped his biceps, your nails digging into the fabric of his white pressed shirt. He thrust into you, picking up a hard pace. With each thrust, he buried himself deeper inside you until your clit met his pelvis each time. He was pounding into you, the lewd noises of your sopping cunt and his balls slapping against each other filling the room.

Your puffy walls clenched around him as your orgasm built in your abdomen. If Ushijima kept up this pace, you’d surely come undone soon. He adjusted his stance, snapping his hips into you at a different angle and hitting your g-spot. You screamed out his name, nails raking down his arms.

“F-Fuck, I’m close,” Ushijima breathed against your neck, thrusting into you harder.

You bit his shoulder, a scream coming out of your lips as your walls fluttered around his cock. You desperately tried to hold on a bit longer, but the pressure in your abdomen was too much, causing you to squirt on his cock. Ushijima thrust a few more times, cuming inside you. He stilled his hips as he painted your walls white and breathed heavily.

You tilt your head back against the cold metal wall, your legs trembling and your breathing labored. “Fuck,” you let out, chuckling. “The minute you pull out and set me on this floor, your cum is gonna drip down my leg…”

Ushijima let out a chuckle and pulled out. “I have a handkerchief in my pocket,” he said, adjusting his trousers and buckling his belt once more.

You shifted, feeling his cum start to travel down your thigh and grabbed his handkerchief. You quickly cleaned yourself up and jolted as the elevator began to move once more. You looked at Ushijima, smiling as you watched him fix his tie.

Maybe you didn’t hate him as much as you thought.

Divider by @uzmacchiato

[suburban-fruit]

Still in Mystra’s Grasp…..

[violette-hue]

Amortentia

Summary: Slughorn teaches everyone about Amortentia.

Trigger Warning(s): none that I can think of :)

Word Count: 619

A/N: I'm thinking about turning this into a series, but I'm unsure if I'd like to continue with Draco or do different characters. Let me know what you guys would like in the comments :)

Masterlist

Potions class should’ve been easy for you. It should’ve been your forte, only it was the complete opposite. Why you had a natural luck of stirring the potions properly, you failed at everything else. You couldn’t tell the difference between some of the ingredients, and to be honest you didn’t really care. You cared even less, if that was even possible, when Professor Slughorn had announced to the class that today’s potion would be Amortentia.

Amortentia must have been the most stupid, money grabbing potion to ever exist. A potion that smelled what the person found most attractive and bypassed free will – yeah, you’d pass. You didn’t need to be dangerously infatuated with someone, and vice versa. 

You rest your head lazily on your palm and let your potions partner do all the work. You watched with sleepy eyes as they dropped in the rose thorns, then peppermint. They looked more than happy, eager even, to be putting this potion together. Your potions partner’s eyes had a sheen of focus to them, practically glittering as they slipped in the powdered moonstone and stirred. The liquid gradually turned into a pearly color. It was beautiful, you had to admit, but you wanted to stay far, far away.

At least, that was your plan before you heard Slughorn going station to station asking students to take a whiff and describe its smell. You groaned as he bounced over to your station, eyes locking with yours. 

“Not a fan, eh?” Slughorn asked, practically chuckling to himself. “What do you smell, Y/N?”

“Nothing,” you answered blankly.

He shook his head, grinning like a fool. “You can’t smell the potion from there. Scoot closer and then tell me.”

You obliged with great disdain. Your partner moved out of the way a fraction, allowing you to bend towards the milky liquid and take a quick whiff.

You hadn’t expected the smell to be so strong. Leather burned your nose, a metallic scent–galleons–lingering after. At the base of it all, something crisp and tart. You huffed. What a load of shit.

“Leather, galleons, and green apple,” you answered finally, disinterest lacing every word. 

Professor Slughorn chuckled, but thankfully moved his attention to your potions partner. Not long after, he dismissed the class, and you couldn’t have gathered your stuff and fled faster. You were on your way to your common rooms when you felt someone yank on our robe. You turned toward your potions partner, eyebrows knit with irritation. 

“Pansy is going to kill you,” she said in a sing-songy voice. 

You rolled your eyes. “And why would she do that?”

Your partner dawned a disinterested look. “‘Leather. Galleons. Green apple,’” she recited, doing a horrible impression of you. 

You looked at her, face blank. “This tells me nothing.”

She playfully shoved your arm. “That’s Draco.”

You pursed your lips. “Wrong. I just like money.”

Your partner rolled her eyes. “You’re helpless. You’ll see what I’m talking about.”

It was your turn to roll your eyes. The rest of the walk to the common rooms was silent. You just wanted sleep, wanted to forget about that horrible, horrible potions class. Unfortunately, you didn’t make it to your common room before some Slytherin boys ran into you and your partner. They were rough housing, shoving and pulling each other down. Light blonde hair popped into view, its owner swaggering after the idiots. 

“Crabbe, Goyle,” Draco called after the brutes. 

You didn’t pay attention to what he said after, didn’t notice that he had looked at you with disgust when he passed by. No, you only noticed the cologne he wore that had faded throughout the day – or was that his natural scent? 

Leather. Galleons. Green Apple.

[violette-hue]

Let's Get to Know One Another (Pt. 1)

Summary: Robb fulfills his promise to Walder Frey and marries one of his daughters for passage through the Green Fork.

Trigger Warning(s): mild angst, fluff (sort of), mentions of sex, arranged marriage

Word Count: 1.8k

Part One | Part Two

Masterlist

You knew Robb had only agreed to this arrangement because he needed to get his men across the Green Fork. You didn’t miss the dismissive glance he gave you when he agreed to your father’s terms. Still, you couldn’t help but get your hopes up. After all, this arrangement meant you would leave your father’s home. 

The Twins had never been your home. Since the day you were born, the castles had been cold, unwelcoming. Your siblings were constantly at each others’ throats, and those who weren’t usually banded together to torment the weaker ones. You were considered one of the weaker ones. You weren’t interested in whatever game they were playing, you only wanted out. 

Now you had an out. Each step you took down the aisle was one step closer to getting out. The wedding cloak Robb wrapped around your shoulders solidified your freedom from this hell, you barely noticed his disinterest. Almost. It became increasingly evident throughout the night, though. Alone at the wedding table, Robb looked at everything but you. His attention was everywhere but the woman beside him. No, it seemed to be on that woman sitting all alone in the back of the room. Talisa, you’d heard the maids whisper. Robb’s lover he’d given up to secure his men’s passage across your father’s lands. She was beautiful, with a kind smile and sad eyes. She must be in love with Robb, too. 

You sighed deeply beside your disinterested husband. You could never hope to be as beautiful as Talisa. You could never hope to captivate Robb the way she did. Reality slowly dawned on you. Had you traded one hell for another? The food in front of you suddenly smelled sour and your stomach twisted into a knot. No, it wouldn’t be hell, it would just be lonely. Robb was a good man and had no ill intent. He’d leave you alone and dedicate his time to his home, his people. You would be fine.

“You look like you’re at a funeral, not a wedding,” Robb said, his gaze remaining forward.

You should’ve smiled, should’ve done your duties as a lady to reassure a man – your husband. Your lips remained downturned. “She’s beautiful. You must be very sad to give her up.”

Beside you, Robb remained the picture of regalness. “I intend to keep my vows. I am a man of honor.”

“If you say so, I will believe you.” You pushed the peas on your plate with a fork. “Will I be lonely?”

The silence stretched on for too long. Off to the corner, a few of your brothers guffawed, mouths full of ale and half chewed food.  “I cannot lie to you,” Robb finally answered. “It is possible.”

You tried to keep the tears that stung your eyes at bay. Perhaps your new future wasn’t a comparable hell to the one you were leaving, but it certainly was a form of hell. You looked forward, looking at your brothers and sisters instead of Talisa. You needed to remind yourself why this arraignment was good, even if it would only last mere seconds. 

From the corner of your eye, you saw your father push away his plate and take a long swig from his cup. Everyone else in the room noticed the same movements and in response banged their fists against the tables. With a hand raised, the banging stopped and your father spoke.

He looked at your new husband with a sternness. “The septon has prayed his prayers, some words were said, and Your Grace has wrapped my daughter in a cloak.” Your father ran his gaze across the room, addressing the audience. “But they are not yet man and wife. A sword needs a sheath.”

Laughter erupted through the room, your father joining them. Robb stilled beside you, shoulders tense and eyes hardening. Your stomach roiled at your father’s next words, though you weren’t exactly sure why.

 “And a wedding needs a bedding. What does my sire say?”

The guests, most of them your kin, chanted two words in a way that made your mouth go dry. You weren’t sure what was happening, but the hungry looks from the men weren’t easing your nerves.

“To bed! To bed! To bed!” Cups banged against the table tops once more, the sour smell of ale and wine wafting towards you as they sloshed out of their hosts. The band struck a merry tune, and with the music stormed forward some of your brothers and male guests to the wedding table. A yelp escaped your lips as harsh, calloused hands hauled into the air and carried out of the room. Happy faces blurred past you on your way out and in the distance you swore you could hear Robb curse.

Your knees landed on the cold floor as the men tossed you into an empty bed chamber. Your heart beat wildly. What in the gods was happening?

The door burst open a few moments later. Women shoved Robb into the chamber in a fit of giggles and closed the door quickly. A tense silence hung in the room as you and Robb looked at each other. His breathing came quick, his eyes matching the panic you felt – and no doubt showed. 

Robb moved towards you, holding out a shaky hand in front of him. “Are you hurt?”

You looked down at your knees. “Bruised, but not bleeding.” You let Robb help you off the floor. His hand was so much larger than yours. You could feel the callouses on his hands, could feel the warmness seeping into your skin. This was the first time he touched you all night. Even during the ceremony, he was careful not to touch you. 

As soon as you’d gained your footing, Robb let you go. You tried to ignore the sudden chill on your hand, the sudden chill in your heart. 

“Do you…know why they’ve put us in here?” you asked timidly. 

Robb’s brows knit together. “You don’t know?”

His face morphed into one of horror at your confused face. “You don’t know…” he whispered, more to himself. The tips of his ears turned a deep shade of red. You followed his gaze to the bed. “It is our wedding night.”

You nodded your head slowly. “It is, Your Grace,” you said, matter of factly. 

“And,” Robb started, the redness growing to his cheeks, “on a wedding night, a marriage is consummated. Do you… Do you know how a marriage is consummated?”

You shook your head. 

Robb loosed a deep breath. “It is when a husband and wife make love –”

“--We are not in love.”

A strangled sound came from Robb’s throat. “Yes, but the act is called that.”

You shook your head again. “I do not understand. What is this act?”

“When – It’s – A man inserts his –” Robb took a deep breath. 

Seeing Robb, the King of the North, flustered and stuttering in front of you tugged at something in your chest. His whole face was red, the deep hue crawling down to his neck. You felt bad for him, but surely whatever he was trying to say wasn’t that embarrassing. 

“Why don’t you show me, Your Grace.”

Robb made a choking sound, a hand coming up to cover the bottom half of his face. “You would not be saying that if you knew.”

“It does not matter what I know, Your Grace. If this–act–needs to be done to consummate our marriage, I don’t think my knowledge will make a difference.”

“It does, your consent does,” Robb responded with exasperation. He pointed to the bed. “We are supposed to consummate our marriage there— I’m supposed to insert myself in you, spill my seed in you. That is the act.”

Your cheeks burned with realization. Your nurse had mentioned this act once, had gone into explicit detail of what happened, how it would feel—and warned you to be cautious. Why, she’d never told you. She only grumbled something about manipulative men and abandonment. Surely, though, an honorable man like Robb wouldn’t abandon you…right?

“Oh.” You wrung your fingers, fidgeting to distract yourself. “If--If that is what is required of me, then I consent.” 

Once more, a frustrated breath escaped Robb. The chair in the corner groaned loudly with Robb’s weight as he threw himself on it. His elbows propped on his knees, he buried his face in his hands. You stood there, watching him. What else were you supposed to do? The sturdy, fancy fabric strained against Robb’s broad shoulders as he breathed deeply. His brown curls rested almost haphazardly along the nape of his neck, and fell unceremoniously against his fingers. 

Robb was handsome, you couldn’t deny that. From the moment you saw him in your father’s throne room, you’d known that much. He’d barely given you a proper look, but his eyes were mesmerizing. The blues of his eyes were dark then, cloudy. Your heart squeezed a bit at the reality of the situation. True, Robb had only married you to get his men across the Fork, but you had been hopeful he’d appreciate your beauty, be excited about it. How could he, though, when his lover was far more beautiful? How could you ever compare? 

Timidly and unsure, you knelt in front of your new husband, gingerly pulling his hands away from his face. The blues of his eyes were clear now, nearly the color of the frozen north. 

“Your Grace,” you started. 

“Robb. You are my wife now.” He slid his eyes to the side, avoiding your gaze. 

Your heart fluttered at the statement, your body choosing to forget the sidelong glance. Your hands rest on his knees. “Robb,” you said slowly, testing the way it rolled off your tongue. “I know we are not in love — we have only just met. I do know that you are a kind, honorable man in both action and spirit. I trust that you’ll take care of me. I give you my body to fulfill our duties – to consummate our marriage and bear you an heir. Please, do not be afraid of our future. We both share an understanding of what this arrangement is, and I think we’ll be able to come to some sort of arrangement.”

You held his gaze as he, no doubt, searched your face for any doubt, any deception. The blue turned stormy, but the look of horror he wore slowly dissipated. You were thankful for that, thankful that his shoulders began to relax. He placed his hands over yours on his knees and held them loosely. 

“I don’t know what I did to gain your trust, but thank you. I cannot promise that we will ever be in love, but I can promise we can get to know one another.”

You smiled softly. “Then, let’s get to know one another.”

[pixopix]

Starry Cloud Dividers

Please credit @pixopix, likes and reblogs are appreciated!

[violette-hue]

Office Sex

Summary: You take advantage that your husband is all alone in his office ;)

Trigger Warning(s): unprotected sex, cursing, public sex, not proof read, maybe some typos

Word Count: 1.5k

A/N: This blurb is inspired by one of the scenes from the House of Gucci.

Masterlist

**Minors and ageless blogs do not interact. 18+ only**

Snow flurries began to slowly fall from the sky, collecting in your hair. You hadn’t counted on any snow for today. You frowned, ducking into the bright orange shop. You kicked some of the snow off your boots and brushed some off of the wrapped tupperware in your hands. You had come to Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes to visit your husband for lunch. Well, lunch was a cover up for the real reason you’d stopped by. You scanned the shop, spotting two familiar heads of red hair. You stepped towards the one closest to you, dodging something whizzing by. Fred was hunched over, stocking one of the shelves from a large box. 

“New stock?” you asked. 

Fred jumped, nearly dropping the product he was shelving. He looked your way, shoulders bouncing as he chuckled. 

“Blimey – you nearly gave me a heart attack,” Fred breathed. He stood to his full height and shifted the box in his arm in a different angle. “Got these this morning. I’m stuck stocking ‘em while Geogie does all the paperwork.” He hooked his thumb in the direction of the upstairs office. Your eyes followed the direction. George had his head in his hand, and the cap of a pen in his mouth. Ever since he was introduced to muggle pens, he’d refused to use quills ever again. He’d gone on a ten minute rant on why muggle pens were better than a quill and ink. 

Fred followed your gaze and smiled. “I think I’ve got the better end of the deal. Go and take him out of his misery.”

You smiled. “You’re absolutely criminal, Freddie. You know your brother hates paperwork.”

Fred shrugged a shoulder and resumed his stocking. “But he’s so good at it.” 

You rolled your eyes and made your way to the back of the store. The climb up the stairs was laborious, but you blamed that on your pounding heart. You blamed your breathlessness on that – it had nothing at all to do with the anticipation of what you’d come here for. You tucked the packed lunch under an arm and tapped gently at the brightly colored office door. You didn’t bother to wait for an answer and just strolled in. You swallowed hard at the sight before you. George’s white sleeves were uncuffed and rolled to his elbows, the buttons at his collar undone to just below his collarbone. You could see his crisp white undershirt peeking out from his dress shirt. His tie was undone and hung around his neck. A dress jacket lay haphazardly on the back of his chair. 

“Fred, I’ve told you I’ll let you know when I’m done,” George snapped, his eyes glued to his paperwork. 

You leaned against the empty desk near the door – Fred’s desk by the barrenness. “That’s quite a bit of paperwork,” you said. “Why don’t you take a break for lunch?”

George lifted his head, eyes softening. He pushed what he was reviewing back and turned to face you. He eyed the wrapped lunch at your side. “To what do I owe this lovely pleasure?” He beckoned you toward him with his hands. 

You pushed off of Fred’s empty desk and sauntered over to your husband. A waive of your wand drew the curtains in the office closed, blocking any view into the office. “I thought you’d appreciate a homemade lunch.”

George gave a lazy smile and shook his head. “What have you brought for lunch?” George asked, hands finding purchase on either side of your hips. 

Your hands smoothed the wrinkles of his shirt on his shoulders. “I’ve brought a shepard’s pie – leftovers from last night’s dinner at your mum’s.” Your hands roamed to cup his face and you bent forward to place a gentle kiss to his lips. “I missed you.”

George’s smile widened. “I missed you, too.” He inhaled deeply, eyes fluttering closed. “That’s not the reason you dropped by, though, is it?” 

You couldn’t suppress the smirk that tugged at your lips. “Fred is downstairs stocking the shelves. They looked pretty empty.”

“Is that so? Today is stocking and inventory.” His hands slid down the backs of your thighs and dipped under your skirt. The silky material bunched and rippled across his wrists as his hands moved up between your thighs. He sucked in a breath as his fingers brushed against your bare lips. 

“I thought you’d be in a time crunch.” You shifted, widening your stance. 

George chuckled. “Don’t try to play off your eagerness as convenience.” His fingers spread your lips apart, his digits sliding around your clit. Your breaths became labored and you moaned softly as his fingers kept circling around the swollen bud. “Did you touch yourself before coming over here?”

You nodded, hands gripping George’s shoulders for stability. You bit the inside of your cheek as he pushed two fingers into you. He curled his fingers, stroking the inside of your needy cunt. He curled his fingers again, then dragged them out of you and onto his tongue. 

“Lay on the desk,” he commanded. 

Your brows furrowed. “Your desk is full of papers—”

“The empty one—” Your husband stood abruptly, hands placed on your hips. He walked to the empty desk, causing you to take clumsy steps backwards. You slid onto the surface as he unbuckled his pants with fever, shoving them and his boxers down mid-thigh. His cock brushed against you, a line of pre-cum smearing against your inner thigh as he climbed over you. 

George nestled between your legs, the tip of his cock resting against your entrance. Your cunt practically throbbed with want, with a neediness and an eagerness you didn’t think you could muster. Slowly, he pushed between your folds. You bit down on your lip roughly to keep quiet. Had it ever felt this good before? You inhaled a ragged breath. Yes, it had. So why did you feel everything more? Every stroke, every push felt more electric, more sensual, more pleasurable.

George grabbed your face with a hand, kissing you openly and swallowing a loud moan. His tongue dragged against your tongue as he pushed harder into you. In. Out. In. Out. Your lower stomach fluttered and fluttered, your elbows bruising on the desk from the force of his thrusts. Your legs instinctively wrapped around George’s waist, pulling him closer. Your nails dug into his arms through his shirt. Had you not been so drunk with need, you’d feel bad for wrinkling the smooth-ish fabric. But you were drunk with need, and you needed him deeper. 

You angled your hips up and instinctively George supported your weight. With the slight angle change, you could feel his cock deeper in you – it still wasn’t enough. Your fingers circled your clit roughly, searching for that familiar build of pressure. 

In. Out. In. Out. Your legs were shaking now. You were so close, a few more strokes and you’d reach your climax – 

“George–” you mewled. “I’m close–”

George’s thrusts became rougher, harsher. The lewd slaps of his balls against your cunt filled the office. You should’ve prayed no one could hear the sounds, prayed that Fred was still busy stocking downstairs. Only George’s name was the prayer, uttering from your lips as your hips bucked into his. Your body was shaking, your climax rolling through your body in violent waves. 

George stilled above you, cock buried to the hilt. His cum streamed into your battered cunt, his forehead pressed against yours. You lay like that for a beat, then two, breaths mingling together as you regained your strength. 

Slowly, George pulled out of you and shoved his cock back in his pants. The clinking of the metal belt buckle being fasted sounded far away and fuzzy. Gentle fingers gingerly pulled the hem of your skirt down. 

“Are you alright, love?” George asked breathlessly. 

You could only nod and clumsily scoot off the desk. Dazed, you made your way over to George’s desk and flopped in his chair. Already, you could feel George’s cum slide against your thighs. At least your skirt was dark. 

George grabbed the left overs you’d brought and uttered a spell to heat the food. He placed the food in front of you. “Eat, you look like you need it more than me.”

You chuckled, but he was right. Between mouthfuls, you listened as George talked about the new products. How were you going to get home? Your legs were jelly and your breaths were still labored. 

Your head snapped up at an aggressive sniff. Too lost in your thoughts, you hadn’t noticed when Fred strolled in the office. 

“What’s that smell?” Fred asked, brows knitted together in distress. 

George exchanged a quick look with you. “Mum’s leftover Shepard’s pie, probably.”

Fred only grunted. He made his way to his desk, then stopped abruptly. He looked closer at the surface of his empty desk, at the still drying sweat prints from your ass and thighs and small drops in between. You heard Fred groan, then gag. 

“You guys are fucking disgusting,” Fred said raggidly.

[deianestormborn]

Imagine being loved by me I won't deny I've got in my mind now all the things I could do So I try to talk refined for fear that you find out how I'm imagining you

[violette-hue]

Jealous

Summary: Steve really doesn't like the person you're interviewing, so afterwards he fucks you senseless.

Trigger Warning(s): unprotected sex, cursing, degradation, slight forcing, mentions of breeding kink, not proof read, maybe some typos

Word Count: 3.4k

A/N: After many moons searching for this post from a deleted account (I finally was able to get my old tumblr name back!!!) I present to you this filthy piece ~ I wrote this back in 2022 (I think) when I was supposed to be doing homework. Here I am, four years later reposting this piece that is my absolute guilty pleasure! Please enjoy ~

**Minors and ageless blogs do not interact. 18+ only**

“You’re interviewing him?”

You turned to look at your boyfriend as you buttoned up your blouse. You cocked a brow at the tone of his implication. You had been getting ready for a meeting for an interview that was to be done in an hour when he stalked into the room.

Ever since Steve had found out you were interviewing Loki for his part in the literal destruction of New York City, he had been making comments here and there on why this was a bad idea. Maybe he was right, but you were just over the moon Loki had even agreed to do an interview with you. 

"Babe, I  don't really see what's the problem," you responded nonchalantly, taking your time to button up the last few buttons. To show some boobage or to not. You chewed on the inside of your lip in thought. 

Steve scoffed. "Are you kidding me? He just tried to take over New York City, causing millions in destruction. He's dangerous."

"Dangerous." You repeated. "Everyone is dangerous, Steve, even The Avengers. Besides, there's going to be, like, a bunch of police guys there guarding him. I  actually think they might be S.H.I.E.L.D. agents."

You watched as the muscles on Steve's arm flexed as he crossed his arms over his chest. "Is that supposed to make me feel better?"

"Jesus Christ, Steve--"

"Language--"

"Why don't you just come with me? Brood in the corner like my silent protector." 

It was silent for a few heartbeats, and you thought Steve might laugh in your face. Instead, he shook his head, a ghost of a smile on his lips. 

"Fine," Steve said, leaning back against the door frame. "Button up your shirt again, I  missed the show."

You giggled and rolled your eyes, but obeyed. You unbuttoned your blouse, then buttoned it back up again slower this time, giving a good show. 

You walked into the interview room: Loki's cell. He was held behind some type of glass box, the floors some sort of dark, holographic tile. The room was bare, housing only a dozen or so S.H.I.E.L.D. agents. Loki had escaped once from a cell similar to this, the chances of him escaping again were likely. These agents wouldn't be able to do much to stop it. 

You stepped towards the glass, stopping a foot or two from the cell. Loki was already standing, and as he stalked towards you, he made sure to trail his eyes over your body. 

"Did you get all dressed up for me?" Loki drawled, a smirk tugging on the corners of his lips. 

You rolled your eyes and pulled out the small recorder that was tucked into the waistband of your tight skirt. "I hate to bruise your ego, but it's actually a job requirement," you responded, tripling checking the recorder had enough charge. You had checked the decent sized black rectangle before you left the apartment and then on your way over here. A nervous habit and the constant feeling that something would go wrong. 

"An enjoyable job requirement. For me," Loki commented. 

You heard a low growl come from Steve and felt the warmth from his chest as he stepped closer to you. 

"Oh," Loki hummed. "A displeasure to see you Mr. America." Loki took a few steps closer. "Did they send you in to keep guard, too?"

"No," Steve answered roughly. "And it's Captain."

"Yes, so sorry. Mr. Captain." Loki smiled wide, clearly enjoying making your boyfriend irritable. 

You couldn't help but giggle and look down. Loki was charming and funny. Too bad he was an absolute menace to society. 

"Mr. Laufeyson--" you started, pressing the record button. 

"Oh, I like the sound of that," Loki purred. 

"--I  want to make you aware that from this point forward, I'll be recording or conversation for the interview you agreed to."

The door that lead to Loki's cell closed with a loud thud and you walked down the quiet hallways in silence. Steve hadn't said much since speaking up before the interview, and you had this gut feeling that something was wrong. You stole a glance toward him and frowned. He was brooding, his brows knitted together with irritation. Even as pissed as he looked, he still looked so beautiful, like he was carved by the hands of a goddess. 

"Stop staring at me," Steve said sharply.

You frowned at the roughness in his voice. "You're angry."

"I'm not."

You moved your gaze back to the labyrinth you were walking through, deciding to stay quiet. It was no use trying to talk to Steve when he got in these moods. His walls would come up and anything you'd say would just bounce right back at you. You'd just have to wait until you got home. 

The next few minutes were filled with the sounds of your shoes echoing off the dark floors. At this point, you weren't even sure where you were going, and you were hoping that Steve would guide you in the right direction. But he stopped, causing you to stop with him. 

"What--?"

"I  told you, you shouldn't have done that interview with him," Steve hissed. 

You turned towards him, your brows furrowed with confusion. You opened you mouth, but closed it as soon as Steve continued. 

"The whole time--the whole fucking time--he was doing nothing but flirting with you. Commenting on your clothes, commenting on your hair, commenting on your hips--"

"I  do have nice 'birthing hips,'" you interjected playfully. 

Steve backed you up against a wall, his hand slamming against the tile above your head. "That's not the fucking point," he growled, his face inches from yours. 

"Language," you breathed. Your thighs instinctively rubbed together at the close proximity of your bodies. With just a slight arc of your back, your aching breasts would be flush against his chest. You mentally kicked yourself. Now wasn't the time to have your head in the gutter. Not when Steve was finally addressing the situation at hand. 

"You looked like you were enjoying the flirting, too," he spat. "Did you?"

You were at a loss for words. Of course you enjoyed the playful flirting. You enjoyed the senseless comments just to irritate Steve and the below the belt jabs just to get a response out of him. How could you not? Steve was always so tense, so worried about his image in public that it came home with him. He didn't know how to let loose, how to just be Steve Rogers instead of Captain America. 

"Yes," you finally answered. "I enjoyed it. A lot."

Steve pushed himself off the wall and ran a hand through his perfectly combed hair. "Fuck--" He took a deep breath and looked at you, then looked away. He seemed to be having an internal battle with himself. 

"I liked the way you reacted to it," you continued bashfully, looking down. "Y'know, this--" You quickly gestured with a hand to Steve and stepped away from the wall. 

You felt stupid at the disclosure, but you didn't want Steve to think you enjoyed the flirting because of who it was coming from. You liked the way Steve would place a subtle hand on your hip or gently brush back your hair whenever Loki would make a sly remark. Steve wasn't the possessive type, and you enjoyed it. But you also didn't know him being possessive would do these things to you. Your breasts felt heavier, your nipples pebbled, and your core ached with a neediness you had never felt before.

"This..." Steve trailed off. He gave a breathy chuckle and shook his head. "You're mine."

You blinked, taking a shallow breath. You needed to hear him say that again, needed to hear him say that while he was in you. 

Steve shook his head again and backed you up against the wall once more. "You're mine." He buried his head in the crook of your neck and gave you a rough kiss against the sensitive skin. "Mine."

"I'm yours," you whispered, digging your fingers into his shoulders. You tilted your head back, exposing more of your neck for Steve to explore. 

He pushed a knee between your legs and pried them open as much as your skirt would allow. His thick, muscled thigh rest on your lower thighs. If only you could hike this skirt up more, you thought, you'd be able to get some friction on your core. Your hips bucked and you licked your lips. 

Were you really going to do this right here in the hallway? Steve tangled a hand in your hair and tugged roughly, eliciting a soft moan from your lips. To hell with this being a public space, you wanted Steve now. Your hands trailed down the blue button up he was wearing down to the gold buckle of his brown leather belt. You groaned in frustration, the belt lodged deep within the buckle. 

"Steve Rogers and very horny girlfriend," echoed Fury's voice through the PA system. "Go fuck in your own house before I have you arrested."

Your hand froze, as did the rest of your body. How could you have forgotten you were in a public S.H.I.E.L.D. hallway with dozens of cameras? Nick Fury was practically watching the beginning of a porno. You moved your hands away from Steve's belt buckle and fixed your skirt. He stepped away from you, fixing his shirt. That's when you noticed his smirk. Had he planned all this? Realization hit you like a semi truck. Fury had exposed you all over the speakers. Speakers that sounded everywhere. Everywhere like in Loki's cell. After all the shameless flirting, Steve had proven to Loki that you were his. 

You frowned. How could Steve have done this? It wasn't like him at all to dangle you like some prize. 

"Real fucking mature, Steven." 

"What's wrong, angel? You haven't spoken to me the whole ride home."

"Can it Steven," you snapped, tossing your purse on the kitchen counter. "You used me back there."

Steve scoffed. "Did I make a little scene in that hallway knowing Fury would say something? Maybe, sure. Did I  know that Loki would hear? Yes. But, Angel, what was I supposed to do when you liked his flirting?"

You whirled on the ball of your foot toward Steve and pointed a finger at him. "You tricked me! I  thought you were finally showing--I  don't know, this dominant and possessive side? And I thought it was genuine, not some fucking show!"

Steve gave a heavy sigh. "Angel--"

"Don't fucking 'Angel' me, Steven." You pointed at him again, this time poking his chest. "I wanted to fuck you in that hallway. I was ready to fuck you in that hallway."

Steve grabbed you by the wrist and pulled you closer to him. "I was more than ready to fuck you in that hallway, too," he said, his voice a tad more gentle. "I would have fucked you against the glass of Loki's cell to claim you." A hot shiver ran down your spine and fluttered in your core. "I would have fucked my cum deep inside you until it ran down your legs for everyone to see. Especially him."

Your breath caught in your throat and the anger that was once boiling over in your blood had now dispersed. What replaced it was a deeply rooted lust that burned to your very core. Your blood, your body was on fire and the only way to sate it was to rip the clothes from your body and ride Steve until dawn. 

"Do you want that, Angel?" Steve ran a hand down your arm and gently turned you around. His hand ran over your abdomen, his fingers catching in the buttons of your blouse. Your back was now flush against his chest and you felt something hard against your lower back. You breathed a shaky sigh of anticipation as he untucked the shirt from the tight skirt. His fingers worked to free the buttons and you shivered at the tension it caused your body. 

You could only nod as the last button was freed, your chest nearly exposed. Your nipples hardened further at the coolness of your shared apartment, your lace bralette doing nothing to keep you warm. 

He ran his hands up your bare stomach, then to the bottom of your bralette. His fingers dipped under the black, Lacey fabric and caressed the bottoms of your breasts. Another shaky sigh passed your lips and you rest your head back against shoulder. The feeling of his fingers sliding and squeezing your tender breasts, pinching and rolling your nipples between his fingers had you squirming for more. Wonton mews fluttered through your lips and your own hands rest over his, begging to handle you more rough. 

Warm, wet kisses trailed along your neck to the outmost corner of your jaw. Your skin tingled where his lips met your flesh, tingled and buzzed until you felt as if you were going to explode. Steve had never handled you like this, had never been so passionate with you before. 

Sex had always been mostly simple with Steve. Standard missionary was the go-to, with the occasional cowgirl. Everything else was…uncharted territory. Of course, you didn’t mind the simplicity, but this…this was amazing.  

You pushed your bottom against his hard bulge and whined softly. “Steve,” you mewled. “I need more—please.”

Steve paused his ministrations on your breasts, his breath shaky against your neck. He slid his hands out of your lacy bralette, pausing at the bottom. In an instant, his fingers were digging into the lace, ripping the fragile fabric in two. Goosebumps pimpled over your breasts as the cold air of your apartment enveloped you skin. You gasped softly, the sudden show of aggression catching you off guard. His hands found place at the hem of your skirt, pushing the tight professional ware down your ass. 

“What do you need, sweetheart?” Steve asked, his voice an octave lower. 

You shakily stepped out of the skirt now pooled at your feet, now only standing in your opened blouse and a simple black thong. You shrugged the blouse to the floor, the remnants of your bralette falling with it. You turned around to face Steve in your nakedness. 

“I need you,” you answered timidly, your gaze on the floor. “I need you inside me.” It was weird to tell him what you needed, having never spoken to each other during sex other than the occasional “you like that?” But you felt brave and…sexy. You took the smallest step closer, your fingers teasing the button of his jeans. 

Steve let out a shaky breath, his hands gripping your hips tightly. You managed to undo the button one-handed and drag the zipper of his pants down, your fingers brushing against his clothed cock. You felt him twitch slightly, and you couldn't help the smile that tugged on your lips. He must be so hard, probably harder than he's ever been. 

"Do you need me, too?" you asked, your hand fingering the hem of his boxers. Where was this braveness coming from? You slipped your hand inside his underwear, gently grabbing his cock. Your thumb swiped along the head of his penis, smearing his pre-cum. 

Steve swallowed hard, and you could see the effort it took for him to bring his hand to caress your cheek. "I want you to suck my cock," Steve grunted. 

Your thumb stopped its ministrations and you pulled your hand from his boxers. "No." You stepped back, looking Steve up and down. 

Steve cocked his head to the side, his brows furrowed. "'No'?" he repeated. He took a step towards you, and you took a step back, your  lower back brushing against the kitchen island counter. Steve shook his head and pulled up the shirt he wore. Understandably, you were quite distracted by his chest and the dark hairs leading down to--

You let out a small yelp as Steve grabbed you by the backs of your knees and placed you on the counter. He forced your legs apart, running a finger over the thin g-string covering your heated mess. A finger pushed the thin fabric aside and delved inside your needy cunt. His finger flexed and curled almost instantly, and you let out a loud moan.

"You sound so needy," he growled, pulling his finger out. He rubbed his thumb and forefinger together, spreading your juices. "Is it me that's got you like this? Or him?" He shook his head, disgust shining through his features. "Slut."

You winced at the word, at the harshness of it. Did he really mean that? "Steve," you started, "of course it's you--" You were cut off with a loud moan pushing through your lips as Steve inserted two fingers inside you. His fingers curled once more, and with it your toes. 

"This pussy belongs to me," he pumped his fingers inside you, his other hand pushing down his boxers and pants. "Your pussy belongs to me."

Without a warning, Steve's fingers abandoned your needy core, and in its place was his cock. The thickness stretched you out, and the head of his penis hit against your puffy walls. He pulled out quickly, then bottomed out inside you once more. His hands gripped your hips roughly, his thrusts just as rough. You cried out each time, nearly feeling him in your stomach. It was too much, but not enough at the same time. You had never been fucked like this before, and you relished in it. Relished in the way Steve's balls slapped against you with a wet snap. Relished in the way Steve made a mess of you--your wetness dripping down to the counter. 

"I belong to you," you whimpered, back arching. Your hands gripped his thick biceps, your nails digging into his flesh. 

Steve's thrusts faltered and he finally looked at you. He pulled you flush to his chest, your bare breasts against him. He gripped your chin and looked deep into your eyes. "Say it again."

You were caught aback, never having seen Steve so vulnerable before. You moved your hands up to rest on his shoulders. "I'm yours, Steve. Body and soul."

It was as if a switch had been pressed in Steve. One minute you were on the counter and the next you were bouncing against the wall. Steve thrust up into you, his cock never leaving the warmth of your pussy. His grip on your hips was ironclad as he fucking you on the wall. You screamed in bliss and in pain. You'd never been explored like this--Steve had never explored you like this. His cock was hitting places you didn't even know existed or felt good. He shifted his position, thrusting into you at a different angle and you saw stars. Tears leaked from the corner of your eyes as your orgasm washed through your body. Your legs wrapped around his torso, your ankles locking around each other. 

Steve fucked you through your orgasm, sweat lining the both of your bodies. Your hands tangled in his hair and tugged lightly, another cry emanating from your lips. You ground your hips down against him, your clit rubbing against his pelvis. You could feel another orgasm coming, could feel the tension in your body rise. Your fingers tightened on the strands of Steve's hair as another orgasm was nearing its peak. Your back arched as your body trembled with another orgasm, your legs shaking. Steve's thrusts faltered and he groaned loudly. His cock twitched inside you as he pushed himself as deep as he could in your battered cunt. He allowed himself to spill his seed within you, and you both stayed in that position for quite some time. Even when you felt his cock soften within you, you stayed like that, each breathing hard. 

"Steve?" you breathed, untangling your fingers from his hair. 

"Hmm?" he answered. His head rest on your shoulder, his breath fanning against your neck. 

"Did you really mean that? That you'd fuck me in front of Loki?"

Steve lifted his head and looked at you. "Well, maybe not in front of someone--"

"But like," you paused timidly, "in public?"

Steve chuckled. "I wouldn't mind, angel. We can try it one day."

[violette-hue]

Elevator Ride

Summary: Ushijima Wakatoshi is a dick and you're stuck in an elevator with him.

Content: MDNI, cursing, smut, unprotected sex, slight (?) enemies to lovers

Word Count: 1.7k

A/N: Random piece I found in my archives :)

Things literally could not have ended up worse. There you were, trapped in an elevator with the ultimate douche bag: Ushijima Wakatoshi. Why the hell did he have to be so blunt all the time? Or so cocky? Has this man never heard of being humble?

You crossed your arms over your chest, leaning against the elevator wall far from said douche bag. You huffed in annoyance for the thousandth time, earning another pointed glare from Ushijima.

“Huffing won’t make the elevator work,” he stated matter of factly.

You rolled your eyes. “It seems it won’t make you disappear either,” you retorted, a bit of bite to your tone.

Ushijima stared down at you and you couldn’t quite pinpoint the look he was giving you. It seemed to be a mixture of annoyance and something else..? His features were hard, but his eyes were soft.

You tore your eyes away from him, not wanting to see him look down at you for god knows how long you’d be in this elevator. You pulled out your phone for some company, only to find zero bars. Great, just what you needed. Tense silence with a man you hated.

You huffed again. How the hell had you gotten into this situation? Oh. That’s right. The both of you were on your way to a dinner party with the team. You weren’t the manager or anything, but you helped out a lot since your uncle was the coach.

When you arrived in the parking garage, you opted to take the elevator up since you weren’t too keen on walking up stairs in heels. That’s when Ushijima showed up. He passed the elevator and had done a double take. You could tell he was debating on whether or not he should join you, and, before the doors could close, he stepped inside.

You mentally cursed yourself for not pressing the close door button as you adjusted your slip dress. True, it was only a dinner, but your uncle had chosen one of the fanciest restaurants in town and the occasion was black tie. You assumed there would be some sort of after party once the dinner was over.

You stole a glance at Ushijima, looking him up and down. You’d be lying if you said he didn’t look good in that suit. He looked very good. Instead of wearing a basic white button down with his suit, he wore a black turtleneck. You subconsciously bit your lip as your eyes trailed over his toned arms that were very noticeable in his jacket. Your eyes trailed up and met his gaze and you quickly looked away, cheeks heated. You saw him smirk from your peripherals and you scowled. Of course he would be a douche about catching you checking him out.

“Do I make you uncomfortable?” he asked after a moment of silence.

“Yes,” you answered, not daring to look towards him.

You heard him grunt and shuffle. “Why?” he questioned. You heard him step towards you and you tensed up.

“You’re a douche bag. You only care about yourself and you think you’re so much better than others,” you answered. The more you spoke, the more angry you became. “You’re so cocky and rude and…and arrogant! And for what? You’d be a lot more attractive if you just were a bit more humble!” Your breathing was ragged, your chest heaving. You were fully looking at him now, your eyes boring into his.

You searched his face for any sort of emotion. He was frowning and his eyes were no longer soft. Instead, they were dark and roamed down your body.

“Is that what you truly think of me?” he asked, the question coming out low and soft.

“Yes,” you breathed, sticking out your chin.

He shook his head. “I don't mean to be so arrogant. I know my talent and my worth, much like you…” he trailed off. “Please forgive me if I’ve made myself unbearable.”

You only just realized the lack of space between the two of you. Your chest was brushing against his with every breath you took and your faces were mere inches away from each other. You looked down to his lips, your mouth salivating at the thought of kissing him and having your way with him in this elevator. You snapped back to reality, shocked at your lewd thoughts.

You pushed him away, growling softly. “Oh, shut up! Don’t try and be nice now—god what the fuck is your problem?! You—you’re so—URGH!”

You crossed your arms over your chest and shoved yourself in the corner of the elevator, breathing heavily. You were so worked up and you had no idea why. Why was he getting you so angry so easily? You dared take another glance at him and instantly regretted it. You were met with another smirk, this time wider.

“I’m what?” Ushijima asked, stepping closer to you.

You shook your head, a lump forming in your throat. You didn’t trust yourself to speak, least you say something you’d regret. You instinctively backed further into the corner, looking anywhere but him. You could feel him looming over you--his eyes boring down into you. You shifted your stance, feeling suddenly small and heated. Why…why were you so heated?

“I’m. What?” he repeated, smirking a bit. He stepped even closer to you, tracing your jaw with a finger and tipping your chin up to look at him. “Look at me,” he ordered.

Your eyes flicked up to him, his words making your core throb. You cursed yourself for deciding not to wear underwear, feeling your wetness drip down your thigh. You examined his features, your eyes tracing over his eyes, then his lips. You wanted to kiss him so bad…to feel his warmth on you and his cock in you. Subconsciously, you puffed your chest out to show off your cleavage. You noticed his eyes trail down to your chest, then trail back up, stopping at your lips.

“Truly, you’re such an infuriating woman,” he admitted, cupping the back of your neck and placing his lips on yours before you could respond.

You stood there, shocked, but quickly kissed him back. His hands trailed down to your waist, pulling your hips flush against his. You let out a small gasp as you felt his hardness against you, the movement of your lips allowing Ushijima to slip in his tongue. He pulled you closer, his large hands settling on your ass, the fabric of your dress barely guarding you from his warmth. Ushijima squeezed your ass, pulling you even closer.

“Fuck, you’re so beautiful…” Ushijima murmured against your lips.

Your eyes flickered up to his, your hands trailing down his chest and to his belt. He watched you fumble with the buckle and helped you pull his trousers down. His bulge seemed bigger now that he was only covered with his boxer briefs. You stroked his length through his boxers and palmed him, eliciting a soft groan from Ushijima. God, you really didn’t want to get dirty in an elevator, but at this point, your cunt was practically begging for it.

Ushijima grabbed your wrist, pulling your hand away from his crotch and swiftly picking you up. He gripped your thighs and pinned you up against the elevator wall, his lips attaching to your neck. He sucked on the sensitive spot on your neck, earning a small moan from you. The position you were in caused your dress to hike up your thighs, your pretty pussy on display for Ushijima. He trailed his fingers down over your folds.

“You’re so wet already,” he mumbled, pecking your lips. “All this for my cock?”

You huffed, your chest puffing out again. “Well what if it was?” you asked, pursing your lips.

Ushijima let out a deep chuckle, pushing past your folds and softly circling over your clit. Your hips bucked up and you moaned, throwing your head back. His lips attached to your neck once more, adding a bit more pressure to your clit.

“U-Ushijima, please…” you whined, rolling your hips up. “The elevators can be fixed at any--!” You were interrupted by a loud moan as Ushijima eased his cock inside you.

Ushijima was a tall man, his features larger than most, but you hadn’t expected his cock to be this big. As he pushed himself deeper inside you, you felt every inch of his cock stretch you out. You gripped his biceps, your nails digging into the fabric of his white pressed shirt. He thrust into you, picking up a hard pace. With each thrust, he buried himself deeper inside you until your clit met his pelvis each time. He was pounding into you, the lewd noises of your sopping cunt and his balls slapping against each other filling the room.

Your puffy walls clenched around him as your orgasm built in your abdomen. If Ushijima kept up this pace, you’d surely come undone soon. He adjusted his stance, snapping his hips into you at a different angle and hitting your g-spot. You screamed out his name, nails raking down his arms.

“F-Fuck, I’m close,” Ushijima breathed against your neck, thrusting into you harder.

You bit his shoulder, a scream coming out of your lips as your walls fluttered around his cock. You desperately tried to hold on a bit longer, but the pressure in your abdomen was too much, causing you to squirt on his cock. Ushijima thrust a few more times, cuming inside you. He stilled his hips as he painted your walls white and breathed heavily.

You tilt your head back against the cold metal wall, your legs trembling and your breathing labored. “Fuck,” you let out, chuckling. “The minute you pull out and set me on this floor, your cum is gonna drip down my leg…”

Ushijima let out a chuckle and pulled out. “I have a handkerchief in my pocket,” he said, adjusting his trousers and buckling his belt once more.

You shifted, feeling his cum start to travel down your thigh and grabbed his handkerchief. You quickly cleaned yourself up and jolted as the elevator began to move once more. You looked at Ushijima, smiling as you watched him fix his tie.

Maybe you didn’t hate him as much as you thought.

Divider by @uzmacchiato

[jacqjohnsonart]

“And the waters are warm

Where they used to run freezing…”

[violette-hue]

Red Lipstick

Summary: Daichi is very eager to get you home and ruin your lipstick.

Word Count: 1.2k

Content: MDNI, cursing, oral sex

Daichi couldn’t stop looking at your lips since you’d left the house. He knew he should’ve been paying more attention to his Sargent, or even his Corporal, but he couldn’t. Your lips looked too damn good in that shade of red. Had your lips always been so plump? So fuckable? The hand around the champagne glass he was holding clenched slightly . This party had only just started and he already wanted to leave. He took a long drink of the bubbly liquor.

It’s not exactly that this party was boring. It was boring, but he knew it was just the beginning. There was a process to go through. Mingling. Formalities. Speech. Party. They were now halfway through the formalities. That was the boring part. In a perfect world he’d be interested in meeting the other sectors’ Corporals and Sergeants, maybe even try to climb the ladder. But god he could not stop looking at your mouth as you talked.

He supposed he’d always taken your mouth for granted until now. He loved the way you took him in your mouth, yes, but he’d always enjoyed fucking you more. Spilling his seed within and pushing it deep inside you. But now he wanted to know what it would be like to spill himself in your mouth—on your face. Daichi shifted from foot to foot.

He casually looked over to you, to find you already looking at him. You scrunched your eyebrows, only enough for him to notice. He knew what you were asking—If he was okay. He wasn’t, but he couldn’t exactly say that. You’d probably go into a small panic and pull him to the side just to ask what was wrong. And he couldn’t exactly tell you his fantasy. Not yet at least. Daichi knew if he told you, you’d be on your knees begging for his cum. He felt his cock twitch and shifted again. He wondered if you caught on.

He practically groaned when you walked in front of him and took his hand. He was far from touch starved, but it didn’t help the way you brushed subtly against him. Neither did the small smirk on your face help when your ass pressed against his hard cock.

Reluctantly, he let you take him to a nearby table to hear the speech. It was a long speech, long enough to sedate the intense lust driving him. But then he stole one glance at you as you took a sip of water, and there it was again. His cock straining against his slacks, begging to be taken out and stroked. As he watched you lick your ruby lips, he could feel the precum spilling into his boxers.

The sound of applause drew him out of his stupor, and he clapped along with his colleagues. He shuffled along with everyone else to the reception area where music was already playing, his hands firmly placed on your hips.

“What’s got you so hard, babe?” Daichi heard you ask quietly, your head turning slightly to face him. If he hadn’t been fixated on your lips, he wouldn’t have heard you at all.

Daichi had to suppress his irritation at the question. The answer was obvious. “You.”

“Me?” You feigned confusion. “Little ol’ me? I haven’t done a thing.”

His grip on your hips tightened and he pressed himself against you. He leaned down to speak in your ear, a gesture that to others seemed innocent. “You’ve been tempting me all night with those red lips of yours.” He pressed a hard kiss against the back of your ear. He smiled as he felt a shiver roll through your body.

“It’s a nice color, isn’t it?” you mused, a smirk gracing your lips. “I wonder how it’d look smeared on your—”

Daichi guided you back towards the entrance, muttering something about an emergency to his colleagues. Of course there was no emergency, unless they counted going back to the hotel you shared for the weekend and fucking you until morning. That was his current emergency. He’d fuck your mouth first–that he knew, needed. Then he’d have you writhing beneath him as he ate you out. Daichi opened the door for you, practically pushing you inside and rushed to the driver’s side.

It only took ten minutes to reach the hotel, and then another five to get to the hotel room. It wasn’t like he was counting. Which he was. It was just he’d never been so hard before for so long. The anticipation made him more aroused as you opened the door to the room. He closed the door quickly with his foot, hastily undoing his belt and zipper. His cock was freed, a hand stroking it sensually.

“Get on your knees,” he commanded. Daichi didn’t think he’d ever been eager enough to be so dominant and commanding, but gods be damned if he was going to wait. One more look at those ruby lips and he thought he might just come undone.

Thank heavens you obeyed. He wasn’t up to the brattiness–at least not now. He stepped closer to you, the tip of his cock tracing your bottom lip. Smearing the red lipstick. Daichi groaned deeply. He wanted to see the lipstick all over your face. At the base of his fat cock.

“Open your mouth.”

He pushed his cock in your mouth slowly as you opened your mouth, another deep groan pushing from his chest. You flicked your tongue against the head of his penis and his eyes rolled back. He let you suck him off, let you bob your head up and down his thick shaft, let you tighten your cheeks as you moved. He was trying desperately to keep himself under control, but as he dug his fingers in your hair and heard you choke on him, he snapped.

His other hand tangled itself within your hair, both of his hands now on your head. He snapped his hips against your face, balls slapping against your chin and his cock hitting the back of your throat. You let out another choking sound, and he thought he might have gone too far. Until your hand gently cupped his balls and started massaging them.

Daichi was moaning now, thrusting harshly into your mouth and guiding your head to take you in with his hands. He loved this so much, loved the way your lipstick was already smearing all over your face. Loved the way your mascara ran as tears streamed down your cheeks. God, you looked like such a mess.

“That’s it, baby, you’re doing such a good job,” he praised. And you were. He could practically feel the head of his cock twitch against the back of your throat. He was going to cum soon.

He pulled himself out of you harshly, eliciting a soft whine from your lips. He pumped himself–once, twice–until his cock was twitching as he unloaded himself on your face. He watched as the cloudy liquid streamed on your face, in your open mouth. It still wasn’t enough. He let the tip of his penis rest against your bottom lip, still hard.

“You look so fucking hot,” Daichi breathed. “You’re such a good girl.”

You smiled, the action causing slight friction against his cock. “I should wear this lipstick more often.”

Daichi let out a breathy laugh. You were always so eager to please, to tease. “You’re going to get me in serious trouble one day.”

Divider by @uzmacchiato

[johnny-depplyloveyou]

“Gods, I’d pay a king’s ransom for a hot, lavender-scented bath – minstrels serenading as I close my eyes and let the water’s warmth dissolve all woes.” 🛁🫧💜

[violette-hue]

Elevator Ride

Summary: Ushijima Wakatoshi is a dick and you're stuck in an elevator with him.

Content: MDNI, cursing, smut, unprotected sex, slight (?) enemies to lovers

Word Count: 1.7k

A/N: Random piece I found in my archives :)

Things literally could not have ended up worse. There you were, trapped in an elevator with the ultimate douche bag: Ushijima Wakatoshi. Why the hell did he have to be so blunt all the time? Or so cocky? Has this man never heard of being humble?

You crossed your arms over your chest, leaning against the elevator wall far from said douche bag. You huffed in annoyance for the thousandth time, earning another pointed glare from Ushijima.

“Huffing won’t make the elevator work,” he stated matter of factly.

You rolled your eyes. “It seems it won’t make you disappear either,” you retorted, a bit of bite to your tone.

Ushijima stared down at you and you couldn’t quite pinpoint the look he was giving you. It seemed to be a mixture of annoyance and something else..? His features were hard, but his eyes were soft.

You tore your eyes away from him, not wanting to see him look down at you for god knows how long you’d be in this elevator. You pulled out your phone for some company, only to find zero bars. Great, just what you needed. Tense silence with a man you hated.

You huffed again. How the hell had you gotten into this situation? Oh. That’s right. The both of you were on your way to a dinner party with the team. You weren’t the manager or anything, but you helped out a lot since your uncle was the coach.

When you arrived in the parking garage, you opted to take the elevator up since you weren’t too keen on walking up stairs in heels. That’s when Ushijima showed up. He passed the elevator and had done a double take. You could tell he was debating on whether or not he should join you, and, before the doors could close, he stepped inside.

You mentally cursed yourself for not pressing the close door button as you adjusted your slip dress. True, it was only a dinner, but your uncle had chosen one of the fanciest restaurants in town and the occasion was black tie. You assumed there would be some sort of after party once the dinner was over.

You stole a glance at Ushijima, looking him up and down. You’d be lying if you said he didn’t look good in that suit. He looked very good. Instead of wearing a basic white button down with his suit, he wore a black turtleneck. You subconsciously bit your lip as your eyes trailed over his toned arms that were very noticeable in his jacket. Your eyes trailed up and met his gaze and you quickly looked away, cheeks heated. You saw him smirk from your peripherals and you scowled. Of course he would be a douche about catching you checking him out.

“Do I make you uncomfortable?” he asked after a moment of silence.

“Yes,” you answered, not daring to look towards him.

You heard him grunt and shuffle. “Why?” he questioned. You heard him step towards you and you tensed up.

“You’re a douche bag. You only care about yourself and you think you’re so much better than others,” you answered. The more you spoke, the more angry you became. “You’re so cocky and rude and…and arrogant! And for what? You’d be a lot more attractive if you just were a bit more humble!” Your breathing was ragged, your chest heaving. You were fully looking at him now, your eyes boring into his.

You searched his face for any sort of emotion. He was frowning and his eyes were no longer soft. Instead, they were dark and roamed down your body.

“Is that what you truly think of me?” he asked, the question coming out low and soft.

“Yes,” you breathed, sticking out your chin.

He shook his head. “I don't mean to be so arrogant. I know my talent and my worth, much like you…” he trailed off. “Please forgive me if I’ve made myself unbearable.”

You only just realized the lack of space between the two of you. Your chest was brushing against his with every breath you took and your faces were mere inches away from each other. You looked down to his lips, your mouth salivating at the thought of kissing him and having your way with him in this elevator. You snapped back to reality, shocked at your lewd thoughts.

You pushed him away, growling softly. “Oh, shut up! Don’t try and be nice now—god what the fuck is your problem?! You—you’re so—URGH!”

You crossed your arms over your chest and shoved yourself in the corner of the elevator, breathing heavily. You were so worked up and you had no idea why. Why was he getting you so angry so easily? You dared take another glance at him and instantly regretted it. You were met with another smirk, this time wider.

“I’m what?” Ushijima asked, stepping closer to you.

You shook your head, a lump forming in your throat. You didn’t trust yourself to speak, least you say something you’d regret. You instinctively backed further into the corner, looking anywhere but him. You could feel him looming over you--his eyes boring down into you. You shifted your stance, feeling suddenly small and heated. Why…why were you so heated?

“I’m. What?” he repeated, smirking a bit. He stepped even closer to you, tracing your jaw with a finger and tipping your chin up to look at him. “Look at me,” he ordered.

Your eyes flicked up to him, his words making your core throb. You cursed yourself for deciding not to wear underwear, feeling your wetness drip down your thigh. You examined his features, your eyes tracing over his eyes, then his lips. You wanted to kiss him so bad…to feel his warmth on you and his cock in you. Subconsciously, you puffed your chest out to show off your cleavage. You noticed his eyes trail down to your chest, then trail back up, stopping at your lips.

“Truly, you’re such an infuriating woman,” he admitted, cupping the back of your neck and placing his lips on yours before you could respond.

You stood there, shocked, but quickly kissed him back. His hands trailed down to your waist, pulling your hips flush against his. You let out a small gasp as you felt his hardness against you, the movement of your lips allowing Ushijima to slip in his tongue. He pulled you closer, his large hands settling on your ass, the fabric of your dress barely guarding you from his warmth. Ushijima squeezed your ass, pulling you even closer.

“Fuck, you’re so beautiful…” Ushijima murmured against your lips.

Your eyes flickered up to his, your hands trailing down his chest and to his belt. He watched you fumble with the buckle and helped you pull his trousers down. His bulge seemed bigger now that he was only covered with his boxer briefs. You stroked his length through his boxers and palmed him, eliciting a soft groan from Ushijima. God, you really didn’t want to get dirty in an elevator, but at this point, your cunt was practically begging for it.

Ushijima grabbed your wrist, pulling your hand away from his crotch and swiftly picking you up. He gripped your thighs and pinned you up against the elevator wall, his lips attaching to your neck. He sucked on the sensitive spot on your neck, earning a small moan from you. The position you were in caused your dress to hike up your thighs, your pretty pussy on display for Ushijima. He trailed his fingers down over your folds.

“You’re so wet already,” he mumbled, pecking your lips. “All this for my cock?”

You huffed, your chest puffing out again. “Well what if it was?” you asked, pursing your lips.

Ushijima let out a deep chuckle, pushing past your folds and softly circling over your clit. Your hips bucked up and you moaned, throwing your head back. His lips attached to your neck once more, adding a bit more pressure to your clit.

“U-Ushijima, please…” you whined, rolling your hips up. “The elevators can be fixed at any--!” You were interrupted by a loud moan as Ushijima eased his cock inside you.

Ushijima was a tall man, his features larger than most, but you hadn’t expected his cock to be this big. As he pushed himself deeper inside you, you felt every inch of his cock stretch you out. You gripped his biceps, your nails digging into the fabric of his white pressed shirt. He thrust into you, picking up a hard pace. With each thrust, he buried himself deeper inside you until your clit met his pelvis each time. He was pounding into you, the lewd noises of your sopping cunt and his balls slapping against each other filling the room.

Your puffy walls clenched around him as your orgasm built in your abdomen. If Ushijima kept up this pace, you’d surely come undone soon. He adjusted his stance, snapping his hips into you at a different angle and hitting your g-spot. You screamed out his name, nails raking down his arms.

“F-Fuck, I’m close,” Ushijima breathed against your neck, thrusting into you harder.

You bit his shoulder, a scream coming out of your lips as your walls fluttered around his cock. You desperately tried to hold on a bit longer, but the pressure in your abdomen was too much, causing you to squirt on his cock. Ushijima thrust a few more times, cuming inside you. He stilled his hips as he painted your walls white and breathed heavily.

You tilt your head back against the cold metal wall, your legs trembling and your breathing labored. “Fuck,” you let out, chuckling. “The minute you pull out and set me on this floor, your cum is gonna drip down my leg…”

Ushijima let out a chuckle and pulled out. “I have a handkerchief in my pocket,” he said, adjusting his trousers and buckling his belt once more.

You shifted, feeling his cum start to travel down your thigh and grabbed his handkerchief. You quickly cleaned yourself up and jolted as the elevator began to move once more. You looked at Ushijima, smiling as you watched him fix his tie.

Maybe you didn’t hate him as much as you thought.

Divider by @uzmacchiato