a common virus

normally you'd say this as you grab his hand and put it on your ass. sometimes switch it up by grabbing his balls, massage them a little bit. but that's only when it's after-hours and you are certain no one is around

and somehow he'd always react the exact same way

"stop that."

"you're pushing my buttons."

"keep your hands to yourself."

jokes on him. that scolding actually makes you wetter

he says that but you see the way his dick is practically begging to be sucked through his slacks

that attitude you'd give him after he'd use his stern voice would never not irritate him

the way you huff with your shoulders exaggeratively moving up and down. the way your eyes roll to the back of your head when he'd push your hand off his dick. it would annoy him, yes

especially when he was actually working on something important

but it would also make him so unbelievably hard

so hard to the point where all he could think about is emptying his balls inside you, or on your stomach, or your ass, or your throat...literally anywhere

there's also times where he would be doing jackshit

simply lallygagging in the lab just to see if you would come check on him

he knows he's wrong for it

keeping you waiting and such but that victory lap back to the room is something that needs to be studied. he gets so much dopamine from it that it should be a damn crime

"you were so hungry for it...so show me. show me how much you need it, how much you need me."

he legit fights not to laugh at that look of desperation on your face

and don't let him get his hands on you when you're ovulating

he will damn near scream in your face just because he knows it turns you on so bad

to the point where you kneeled down in front of him and used your teeth to unbuckle his pants and pull them down.

don't ask how you did it-

you don't even know.

best position? doggy style

boring, yes. but it hits so damn good when a pillow is right under your stomach and he is just ramming into your cervix like he has a genuine vendetta against it

and don't let him bring his hands down from the small of your waist to the fat of your hips and pull you into him over and over to match his thrusts

that makes you cum instantly

that goes for the both of you....

because you squeeze him so tightly every single time you cream his cock that he doesn't get a second to pull out. sometimes he gets lucky when he wears a condom but other times you go so many rounds in one night that he can't be bothered to keep putting a new one on

that and the fact that you don't make it any easier with the way you moan and cry for him to fill the emptiness inside of you

at times you both have sex so much that everyone questions if you're both single handedly keeping condom companies in business

it got to the point where bruce was burning through condoms so bad that he had to get a big pamper sized box every month

and still manage to run out at some point every month-

no need to worry, you are on the pill

but he is just waiting for the right time when you both are out the tower and living quiet lives for him to stop buying condoms

and to make you stop taking the pill

just so the creampie can actually have an effect

and if it doesn't?

your cunt is going to have some restless nights ahead.

hey everyone! very unexpected to see you all after a whole year but here we are. finally the "hiatus" is coming out my bio so feel free to interact.

p.s. this ai in fan fiction news has come to my attention and it is very disheartening for me. I started writing because I never found material catered to me. this is supposed to be a fun activity! not some competition between us and ai made stories. I find the use of ai unnecessary and outright ridiculous in such a lax space! this page is ai free and will stay that way.

"I haven't seen you around this floor before. I was thinking we could grab some coffee. I could show you the ropes."

Pupils flickering back to your coworker in front of you, your eyes drop. From a friendly and warm aura to pure annoyance. Inhaling through your nose and out your mouth, you flash a quick smile. The classic white man burden scenario.

There is truly only one way to clarify and shut down this run in. You've tried a number of different approaches but this one seems the most effective...and the most fun. "I've been working here for three years."

You don't know what was more ironic about the setting: your deadpanned voice, his rosy cheeks or his curt nod and awkward walk away. You bathe in watching the confidence drain from a mans face. The shocked look from the somewhat new information and the simultaneous switch from your corporate personality to your regular 'no bullshit' attitude.

You don't understand how a new hairstyle was an indication of being a whole new person. You still had the same face. Maybe that was all white men logic, you thought. But that was an unfair stereotype. There was one man you knew of that noticed. He noticed practically every minuscule thing about you. A tall, stereotypical, blue eyed, dark haired gentleman. He was sweet and sort of awkward but so very easy on the eyes.

"Hm? Oh, no. I'm not going home for the holidays."

The simple question, set the scene for what Clark would ask you next. He waited to get you in the break room alone to ask and clearly you thought nothing of it. But before he could follow up.

"I love going home for the holidays!"

An interruption. You gave a small smile to her but he sighed.

Lois.

Always annoying. Always showing up at the wrong time. Oh, how he hated when she'd simply...'pop up'. Clark pushed up his glasses as he still kept his gaze on you. Refraining from saying anything that would create an awkward situation for you.

"No boyfriend either? I assume."

You only chuckled at the question and he sported a calm smirk. Ignoring the ugly cackle in the background. You provided him all the correct responses. No holiday plans? No boyfriend? He had another question in mind but Lois was continuously interjecting and talking over you. So much so that he couldn't get a second to ask you directly.

Talking to Clark for one more moment, you glanced to the side and notice your other coworker come up to your desk. Excusing yourself from the conversation, you hurriedly leave the break room and met them. He watched the way you stride around your desk in that pencil skirt. Your low heels adding a particular sway to your hips as you leaned over and flipped through flies on your desk. You bent over just right, enough for him to have a peak at that scandalous bra you wore and as if on queue, she speaks.

"Finally! We're alone. So, I was wondering if we could-"

The moment she closed her eyes from immense nervousness, he bolted. Anyone could tell he had zero interest in that overzealous woman. Anyone but her.

It wasn't long until Clark found you again and you were flipping through more papers. He always admired how hard working you were. How you'd apply yourself to everything you did. It was inspiring. It makes him think of how you would be if domesticated. A terrific mother, he thinks. And probably an even better wife.

"Clark?"

Your soft voice snaps him out the thought and he perks up.

"I don't mind it. I'm just not that seasonal. Compared to you anyway."

Like he gives a damn about what you'd be wearing.

"That won't be a problem. Look as pretty as you do and that'll be seasonal enough."

He could feel his stomach flex at the smile you give him. His cock stiffening in his slacks as his eyes scan over your facial features in the sweet moment. Even though he was fully engulfed in your laugh and grin, he still had many things to take care of.

The nuisance. That passive aggressive and flirty coworker. And lastly you.

He needed you.

He needed you so much more than life itself.

He needs you full of life and his seed.

He needs you to be his wife.

But he can wait one more Christmas before making that happen.

At least. He hopes he can wait. Because if he see's you with those beautiful braids, he doesn't know if he can resist the scene of fisting them while he pounds into you from behind.

a/n: I'm not going to lie you guys I'm lacking inspiration at the moment but I'm still going to do my best to get through all the asks. thanks so much for the support!

more writing

"stay." the shorter his phrases got, the shorter his temper got as well and your patience was getting worn too. you try to be a patient person but when he acts so entitled and childish, you can't help the awkward yet strained laugh that comes from your chest.

"I can't do it. I need to go back to my house." you were stern and here comes the attempt the remove yourself from the premises.

you got up from your laying position on the bed and closed up your already packed bag, you planned this, you planned to leave today and you were executing it.

you could feel the adamant stare on your back coming from him. you rolled your eyes and shook your head. you have a minuscule understanding of what's going on in his head, quite minuscule compared to what is actually going on.

"I won't say it again." you look over to him and tilt your head, you were perplexed by his word choice.

"oh, don't be so dramatic." you utter as you put on sweatpants and you thought he was simply trying to intimidate you with his harsh tone and odd wording. but you were naïve to the obvious signs.

he considered letting you go but the way you looked in those sweats, his sweats. he couldn't. not this time.

he grabbed you by the neck, his thumb on one side of your jaw while his four fingers are on the other side. with his chest pressed up against your back, he pushed the bedroom door closed. he was breathing heavily.

like breathing uncomfortably down your ear.

you mistakenly utter his name and his thumb that was fitted on your jaw, pressed your lips together firmly.

he was clicking his tongue as you felt his head shake next to yours. as your chest was raising and falling noticeably, his icy hand slithered up your shirt and you felt a chilling sensation from your sternum to the top of your esophagus.

you felt your resolve shattering under him as he ripped the bag from your hands and spun you around. he couldn't even began to forge together any words as he brought your face close to his. your scent intoxicating him once more and he feels that certain emotion snap inside of him.

something that held him back from taking in all of you.

pushing you down onto the bed, it didn't feel like how it usually did, soft and welcoming, it felt hard and stringent. he grabs your wrist harshly and you couldn't take your eyes off of him. but his actions were still full of intent as you felt your wrist binded to the bed.

you don't know how to feel. one moment you are protesting loudly and kicking at him and the next you are moaning when he so much as squeezes and twists your nipple through your shirt.

he refused to prep you and give you that sense of pleasure, like this was supposed to be pleasureful, it wasn't. as he had you on your back—right wrist tightly tied onto the bedframe—he made you put your feet on his chest. sadistically, wanting to feel you push away from him as he pushed into you raw. it hurt. like hell.

your free hand pushed your hair harshly out your face as you threw your head back on the bed and in this specific moment he felt your resistance the most. but at the same time he felt the way you were desperately pulling him in and in. like you were just begging him to touch your cervix.

he was pushing in slowly, slow and shallow thrusts into you and rubbing your clit ever-so-often even if you obviously didn't deserve it. he wants to hear those sweet moans, even if those whiny pleads are ruining the experience.

he can't focus on your walls suffocating his dick when all you're doing is crying your heart out. with a clear irritation he pushes down on your stomach as he leans over to get a piece of tightly woven rope. you didn't get a moment to slap him away as he was already looming over you, forcefully putting the rope over your mouth and around your head. tying it tight enough so it won't come off and it will effectively muffle those loud and annoying cries.

"I don't want to hear you speak."

you were expecting a quaint 'understand?' from him but the question would've been a waste of breath because of the way your body forced itself to relax under him.

at this moment he straightened your bent legs and put them on his shoulders, folding your body in half as he stayed at an acute angle. the tears and snot running down your face shouldn't have egged him on into ramming into you harder, faster, and dry especially.

but by the time he was leg up and full on pounding into you, you were wet enough for it. you were turned on by this, by him and his authority.

at least.

that's what he was getting from this.

you bite down on the rope as you whine through yet another orgasm and you sniffle up the snot as your free hand claws into the bed. its like you were scared to touch him. and that did hurt him a bit when he realized but the warmth. the look of vulnerability in your eyes as he does nothing but bully your gummy walls, is as addicting as drugs to him.

panting like a dog above you, he completely stops for a moment. clearly getting lightheaded as he puts one hand next to your head for stability. your eyes shoot open at the suddenness of his movements and as your eyes lock, he gives you such a conceited smirk.

pleased with his actions.

even when he's clearly overexerting himself from how pussy drunk he is.

he takes a huge breath, sitting upright and running his fingers through his hair. yanking your lifeless legs to his chest, he shifts his technique to quick and shallow thrusts. your body jolting violently against your will. but this is what he wants.

against your will.

this is his will.

this is what he wants from you.

he wants you to cum, over and over and over again until you get it into your thick head.

you have no will.

and because you have no will to control your bodily functions, your bound hand clenched in a tight fist as you cum again.

you had a wicked imprint across your face and your wrist was blood red. you couldn't didn't leave. not until he said so. and he didn't say so.

not yet.

leaning down to your ear, his hand squeezes your arm tightly as you sat in his suffocating embrace. stiff in his arms as you didn't want to engage in any touch with him. it angered him.

"do I need to use the rope again."

the dead tone he used in combination to his slow pace of words sent a sharp shiver down your spine.

with a soft exhale of a shaky breath, you hesitantly shake your head and his draped arm tugs you impossibly closer to his side.

"good." he gave you a small belittling pat on your forearm as he kissed your forehead and he's quite proud to call himself

your boyfriend.

a/n: someone pls take this trope away from me. anyway thats all for now, literally can't stop thinking about the possibilities for this. thanks to the anons that were asking for more! honestly made me more incline to post.

pacing around your room, he's careful not to shift anything around. your aroma is all over the room and he's getting frustrated quite fast. its like the room is spinning as he says 'fuck it' and rummages through your nightstand. he's seen you dig in here countless times, there has to be something he wants in here.

one hand roughly opening and closing drawers while his other is squeezing his dick disgustingly tight in through his pants. he can't physically handle this irritation, the vexation of it all.

he's ready to simply unbuckle his pants and throw them to the side, all the while jumping into your sheets as he jerks himself off to the scent of your pillow but he stops.

both hands hold onto the sides of this specific drawer, shakily reaching into the drawer and finding a black lace panty. bringing the fabric to his nose, he took a huge inhale and immediately realized. its not the usual smell of detergent and perfume but, the smell of you. you and your ethereal juices that come from that sweet pussy.

he closed his eyes and took another deep inhale.

it was his lucky day. you hid it away from him. probably embarrassed from how you fingered yourself silly in the lingerie.

but your embarrassment was the last thing on his mind as breathy moans leave his quivering lips, his slender fingers griping his thigh and his palm holding your panty against his cock. holding it in a warm embrace as he, practically, gives himself rug burn from how fast he's rubbing the fabric on him.

what's worse? worse than his dumb whimpering and quivering lips? worse than his purposeful infliction of pain on his dick? what's worse is that he's crying, full on tears running down his cheeks, from the thought of you catching him like this.

legs spread wide on your bedroom floor, back against your dresser and head banging back against the top drawer as he cries out your name from the twisted and masochistic pleasure.

safe to say, he left with yet another one of your underwear and a mind-scrambling orgasm. he even felt generous enough to leave you something. something small, a surprise, on that sex toy of yours.

what?

you thought he didn't see it?

silly girl.

more of my writing

and they were real. actual items in the bags and you had to check. something in you told you that this couldn't be real. but it surely was.

you still didn't open or wear a thing. it infuriated him. he didn't buy you these things for them to collect dust. but, besides this, he needs to see you. he's aching for you. so he does.

there you were obliviously window shopping because he knows you're too goddamn responsible to buy the things you want. he watched as you paced up and down the isle. analyzing the clothing and silently cursing to yourself when you check the tag. it made his chest rumble from a quiet chuckle. those leggings you wore hugged your body and infatuated your hips to give you a delicious figure.

oh

you bent over to pick up a shirt you knocked it off the hanger and he got the perfect view of your ass. the movement itself was quick and ridded with embarrassment from making something fall. but it still made his trousers annoyingly tight as he gazed at you.

he couldn't hold himself back anymore. he walked into the store. knowing exactly where you were as he walked in nonchalantly. he seemed confident to anyone around, but inside, he was just trembling. he was turning into where you clearly were but you were leaving at the same time, your shoulder nearly brushed against his as you pasted each other. he could feel the heat of your body past him and he could smell the sweet scent of vanilla coming off your person and he nearly rolled his eyes back.

you were too much for his own good.

and just like that you walked out the door like he was nobody. but he knew you felt it, felt that spark when you glided by one another. it was an electric surge and he couldn't rid it from his body. this lead him to pick up everything that caught your eye in the store and buy it.

he was an irresponsible child when it came to you and materialistic things, but he could care less. money comes and goes, he thought. and you are one in a lifetime for him.

he was nervous around you, popping up at places you least expected it and getting ignored by you only fueled his efforts. and he benefited from it. he talked to you.

he talked to you.

it was brief, like every other interaction you had, but it was an everlasting moment in his mind. you bumped into him this time. oh, how much joy he felt when your warm body clashed with his. it even took you a second longer to detach from him than it would a normal person. you were all over him and he knew it.

you politely said excuse me and stared into his eyes. he couldn't even blink, afraid he would miss a single moment in your presence. he imagined you looking back at him when you walked away and even fantasized that there was a smile on your face but who could even be so sure?

him?

not when he was laying down and imagining you were watching him, just as he was stalking watching you. one hand slithering under his boxers to palm himself while the other held his chest. right where you bumped into him. he contemplated never taking off the sweater, let alone washing it. but that had no space in his mind now. it was too busy thinking of you and your alluring scent.

stroking himself to you alone, he could imagine your warmth against him. your mouth, your tits and of course that hole. any one he wanted. because he knew what he meant to you. he was your prize, just as you were his. he had to work for you and you had to work for him. if that means he has to spend nights just aching and pleading for you, then so be it. he needs you. he needs you so bad it can kill him.

and when the time is right, he will come and see you.

he will break those pathetic petty locks of yours and enter your room. he will peel back those layers of sheets you use to cover that lovely body, and his fingers will run down your body, leaving goosebumps in its wake. he will hook his fingers on your skimpy underwear and pull them down to your ankles.

and he will fuck you.

some more stories

“I’m sorry, if this is disrespectful to you. Please understand that everywhere I go destruction tends to follow.” 

“Go ahead.” He responds after listening to you, biting your lip and moving a hair from your face, you sigh. 

“I will disregard the disrespect. Only because it is coming from you, in reina.” Giving him a shy smile, you nod not quite understanding the last bits of what he said.

Standing off the edge where rock meets water, you step onto the liquid, turning to him and giving him a small wave. Submerging into the water, a small bubble tracing around your body that keeps air flowing while the water propels you through the small tunnels and out of Talokan. The feeling of guilt tugs at you for leaving your savior but the guilt of killing hundreds of people where you were held captive ate you alive. Reaching the surface, the bubble of air slowly deteriorates as you walk up to the sandy shore. Moments to dawn, you catch your breath as you walk away from the beach, taking one hesitant look back before disappearing into the dense forest. You needed time. Time to figure out your powers, time to find yourself and forgive yourself. It didn’t take long for you to forgive yourself for the unfortunate events at the hell hole, in the matter of days you thought and realized that losing your temper had to have been the best case scenario. 

You spent time in an abondoned hut alongside the oceanside. It was peaceful, the waves were a natural lullaby and helped with the unease of sleeping. Being self-efficent gave you the chance to fool around with your powers, learn what you can do without causing a catastrophe. Sitting elevated above the waves, you meditated and wondered if he would try to find you. 

“In reina.” You whispered opening your eyes, looking across the blue mirrors that connected with each wave, you could’ve sworn you heard someone say it before you.

Refraining from saying ‘hello’ or any of the sort. You’d rather not know if someone is here with you. Moving closer to the edge of the small cliff, you sway your hand in a circular motion, the waters pushing itself into a dance. Watching closely as the water formed a small cone shaped tornado that sunk to the bottom of the shallow floor. In this it showed, the particles of sand and small plants being swept into the current. Putting your hand in your lap, the mini tornado, slowed to a stop and transitioned back to the usual current of the ocean. Looking around your surroundings once more, you get up, dusting yourself off and go back to your hut.

If you could say something different to Namor, what would you say? Ask him what ‘in reina’ means or what he meant by ‘my goddess’. You were so shocked by what you’ve done prior that it didn’t register how handsome the man was, his tan skin, fit physique, raven hair and darkness that hides in his brown irises. A clear portrait of the man was painted onto the walls of your mind, and you were repeatedly looking at the painting, thinking of him after days of being alone. Laying down, you get comfortable on the floor bound cot, closing your eyes, your body relaxes on the soft surface.

“Y/n, in reina.” The voice deep, meaningful and close. Opening your eyes, your rest felt like it only lasted a split second. Looking around, you were surrounded by turquoise looming lights. The scenery definitely unfamiliar. Standing to your feet,

“Nib óolal, waal mía,” you turn to the sound of feet shuffling behind you and catch a glimpse of a blue skinned person leaving. Dark messy hair enters your view as you shake your head. Convinced that you’re hallucinating about this man, this dangerously attractive and hot man.

“What are you doing here?” You say in complete disbelief. A slight furrow in his brows as he gives you a small smile and honestly you could’ve dropped your panties for him right there. Wait what?

“I have changed my mind.” He reaches behind his neck, taking off one of his necklaces.

“Changed your mind?” You relay back to him in confusion, at this he smiles and nods.

“Can’t someone have a change of mind?” Your mind is fogged with confusion and its clearly displayed on your face.

“Yes, but I’m not following. I don’t understand what you're saying.” The small sounds his jewelry made as he rests them down on the nearest surface, echoes in the little pauses of silence.

“Am I not speaking english?” He asks as if you literally couldn’t understand. You realize he’s joking and chuckle.

“You are. I mean- ….What did you change your mind on?” You lose your train of thought mid sentence, his muscles suddenly having more definition now that its no longer covered by the many necklaces he wore.

His masculine stature compliments his collar bone and defined jaw thats hidden under a well kept beard. You need to get a hold of yourself, zoning out while observing his body and objectifying him when given the slightest chance. What would he do if he found out? Something bad you hope. Blinking yourself out the trance, bare chest is in your eyeshot. Looking up through your eyelashes, he’s already looking down.

“You.” Watching as his palm rests along your cheek, steadily tracing down your jaw and stopping by your chin.

All the while your breathing hitches, his thumb rubs along your lower lip. Most alarms are ringing in your head for you to stop but whats a simple kiss? Your hand slides up his waist, toned stomach and rests on his shoulder. His gaze shifting for a moment to your hand and back to you, by then you were already pushing yourself up. His lips pull you into a hypnosis of only wanting him, only wanting to kiss him, wanting to climb in his skin. His lips stray from yours to your cheek and neck in a rushed manner. His arm capturing you in an embrace to keep you from stumbling backward.

Your chest heaves excessively as you realize what you’re going to do. Failing to release you from his embrace, he guides you to a soft patch of the cave. It was odd, grassy and soft as he laid you down. The space made you wonder about the deep sea of unknown even more, if there’s possibility of healthy gardens thriving underwater, what other possibilities are there? Your hands glide over the greenery, feeling the cushiony plants and enjoying the pleasant sound it made as your hands moved through. All your senses were being satisfied, especially your eyes. The sight of him kneeling in front of you can make any women weak. He observes you and your fascination with the scene. His hands compliment your skin, when they stroke your thighs, goosebumps rising on your skin. Despite your body growing hotter and hotter with each passing moment. Leaning down, he kisses up to your core. Kisses alternating from right thigh to left thigh, your hips accidentally jerk once he’s two kisses away. His gaze shifts to you once more and he smiles. His dimples peaking through.

Your excitement is getting the best of you as he pulls your pants off, his finger tips gracing your lower stomach. Lowering his head to your core, you close your eyes and he kisses you. One long slow swipe of his tongue from your hole to your clit. His tongue teasingly licking at your clit, small and kitten like. You hum a moan, your hand hovering over your lips in upmost disbelief. Sucking on your folds like a starved man, he hooks his arms under your thighs and his hands grip at your thighs. Sweat beads down your forehead, mixing with a tear of pleasure. Finally opening your eyes, he is totally indulged in your pussy. Your shiny wetness on his cheeks, his head moving from side to side to make sure nothing is left untended to. A broken gasp leaves your chest when he nips at your clit sharply. Fanning yourself, you take in deep breaths at the realization that your body is overheating. You attempt to plead his name but his tongue slips in your hole at the right moment and touches your g-spot. Making you shriek.

“namor…” You mutter, breathing heavily. Your pussy squeezing his tongue and legs clenching on his head, demanding more. Shaking your head, your moans leave your throat in a struggle.

Cumming all over his cheeks and chin, he laps up the mess and unhooks his hands from your thighs. Your eyes follow his stature as he sits up. Your chest heaving up and down, he holds you in a compelling trance.

“What are you doing,” His voice dips in a jagged tone, warning you and stopping you in your tracks. You were scooting away from him.

“take me home, please.” You trembled as he shifted close.

You cross your ankles and shield yourself from him, “we can’t, namor please, listen to me.” He shakes his head, his playful manner gone.

“I hear you, but I won’t listen.” His hands uncross your ankles, opening your legs to him once more, “I’ll fuck you until you beg to stay with me.” You gasp, his hard-on rubbing against you as he raps your legs around his waist.

The waistband of his shorts gone and your eyes dart everywhere. This is what you want, it is, but this is one of those journeys that you can’t turn back from once you’ve begun.

“Look.” He commands your body with a word, this brings a soft smile to his lips.

“I deserve you. I knew I did when I first saw you,” he moans softly when he uses his fingers to part your soaked lips.

“I waited this long, can’t you give me something I deserve, hm?” His attention was on you, his tip moving between your lips and squishing around your come. You moan as nod to the man, cursing yourself at your wordless affirmations.

a/n: don't mind the title I'm just having fun at this point...and here's the translations cause I know some of y'all lazy asf

in reina - my queen

Nib óolal, waal mía - thank you, my child

“No, I’m more so impressed.” He eases, your light colored dress mixing nicely with your skin color, providing a satisfying palette to his eyes.

“A compliment? Maybe the dungeon is changing you for the better.” Your attempt at a joke is taken wrongly when his arms fold across his chest. 

“It is not.” In the pause, you take another step.

“When will you be released. My coronation is very well near.” You change the subject of conversation to pressing matters.

“That is not how these tasks are completed here.” He says regarding the way you think these procedures are run in Asgard. Everything is run according to Odin, whatever he says, whatever he wants, everyone must abide.

“Of course not.” He paces back and forth in his confinement. The ticking of a pocket clock compelling the attention of your mind, you are running out of time.

“It will be lengthy but you might be capable.”

“There it is.” You urge, calf length braids flowing over your shoulders and hiding your expressions from the guards. “What ever you acquire me to do, be sure it is within reason and time frame.” You say, making sure you’re stern with him.

“Break me out.” You scoff halfway through his words. His stance not helping his unserious statement, looking as if you quite literally popped his bubble.

“You’re kidding.” You fail to bite back a chuckle. Your face shifting back to business. “I refuse.” 

“Then you will not have a coronation.” He shrugs.

“That’s not how my obligations work. Remember my realm doesn’t revolve around a king.” You remind him that your kingdom needs a queen more than a king and it revolves around its people more than anything else. 

“Ah yes, the elves way of life.” His slender fingers run through his jet black hair and you had to curse him for getting himself in this mess. Something in you wanted to yank him out the human fish tank yourself, take him home with you and make him king in two different ways.

“Can I ask you something?” He nods, eyes scanning your swift change in expression. “Does he.. Is he always that odious to you?” Your low voiced statement takes him aback. Straightening his posture and clothing as if you hadn’t said anything at all. Although his eyes are telling a different tale, a tale of hurt and misunderstanding. Tucking your luscious braids behind your ear, you are expecting to leave without an answer.

“I will continue negotiations between our realms. When I return it will be to release you from this cubicle.” You give him a soft smile and turn back down the looming hallway. Taking two steps with the guards behind, you sigh. Already feeling the weight on your shoulders.

He calls out your name. Looking back, you watch him closely, “he is and always will be.” Turning away from each-other at the same time, the eclipse you both were under, breaks and you ascend the steps lifting up your dress. Having your staff returned to you, you need to talk to someone who’ll listen. In order to get your husband off the hook. Treading through the hall with a female guard four paces behind, you heard distant whispering. Handmaids conversing in a hushed manner in the corner of your eye. Fixing the hair you casted behind your ear to dangle in front your face and hide the flesh. 

a/n: why do I actually miss writing like this??? anyway black history month is almost over and I gotta get these posts in.

Walking out the bathroom with a towel hugging and hiding your body, a cloud of steam stalks behind you. Putting on panties and one of your husband’s t-shirts, you hang up your towel and look back at him.

“kats? baby?” You softly call out to him. He mumbles to you a moment later. His crimson eyes accompanied by glasses resting on the bridge of his nose.

“are you almost done?” You whine and he doesn’t grace you with an answer. Although his annoyance is projected through his furrow eyebrows and pierced lips. 

Walking up to your side of the bed, you nudge your knee on the mattress. A noticeable dip in the comfortable surface. Gazing at him for a moment, you hesitantly lean towards him for a kiss. He glances at your actions and ignores the advance. Huffing to yourself you leave the room, making sure to put a sway in your hips to mess with him. Since he was clearly messing around with you. Your sweet tooth was aching. No matter how bad it is to eat sweets so late at night, you needed to satisfy the urge. 

Opening the fridge door in search for ice cream, you are unpleasantly surprised to see nothing. Glaring intensely at the shelf its supposed to be on, you know who’s the culprit. And all you can think is how he could be so selfish. Eating all the ice cream and not leaving one single scoop for you. And he has the nerve to preach about being healthy. Trudging back to the bedroom, your sweet tooth is gone and all you have on your mind is confrontation. 

“You ate my stuff.” You exclaim to him, voice mixed with annoyance and amusement at his unfazed face.

“I eat a lot of your stuff, be specific.”

“You-“ Halting your sentence with a huff, you roll your eyes and shut the door behind you, “the ice cream. You ate it. The pint that had a sticky note that specifically says my name on it!”

You could find this all so laughable if it wasn’t for his little attitude. Closing his laptop, he folds his hands on top the device and motions for you to come close to him. 

“Yeah I ate it. Now what?” Shaking your head at his intimidating words, your eyes narrowed as you look at him. 

He must love when you’re upset at him. Maybe it’s because you suck his cock better with more malus than caution or because you ride him rougher than you would ever normally. He probably loves the way you grip onto his chest when you throw your ass back on him as he grips your hair until you have a throbbing headache. It could be over the littlest things but still, it makes your movements and intent more careless towards your husband.

Gritting your teeth as he holds you in a headlock with your back arched against his chest. You grunt as you bathe in the twisted euphoria of being “mad” at each other. Short and quick thrusts into your cunt, the corner of his lip is upturned in a small smirk at the position he has you in. Showing how much stronger and dominant he is. Feeling your curvy body tremble against him as he forces another orgasm out of you. 

‘Over some damn ice cream.’ He thinks.

In his eyes you’re begging to be fucked into oblivion. Maybe it’s been a long week, no dick and now you forgot how to act with him. But don’t worry, he’ll whip you back into shape. Pounding his cock into your tight gummy walls, to remind you of the burn. The burn of his cock molding itself back into your pussy after a long break. He’ll even feel up your lower abdomen to feel him puncturing your stomach and will even press onto your tummy to hear your pleading whines and cries. 

He loves your pained whining, it’s a wonder really. How you can find the breath to scream when he’s basically smashing your organs together with how deep he’s fucking you.

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