Tumgik
#but then he stops and curls up on my lap like this and i just can’t stay mad at him lol
satorena · 2 days
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༊*·˚ D!CK OFF LIMITS !?
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bad ☆ summary. why won’t he let you suck his dīck?
warnings. explicit content. 18+. foul language. cunningulus. fīngerīng. premature ejacūlatīon. semi public sēx. usage of toys. facials. mirror sēx. dom/sub undertones. preestablished relationships. reader is a fiend for his dick. afab!reader. could be angsty at some point ? fwb to . . . lovers ? 7.4k words (kill me now).
rena's ☆ note. this idea came to me while i was drunk.
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you wonder if gojo thinks you have gingivitis.
that thought was unlikely, as he was always eager to shove his tongue down your mouth, tongues sloshing and secreting saliva as his hands roamed between your thighs, knuckles deep into your cunt.
then maybe he assumed you were a biter— which would be highly hypocritical of him, as he’s known to get on his knees in the nearest bathroom stall and flip your skirt up, push your panties to the side and plunge his canines into the flesh of your ass before tongue fucking you.
well, maybe he simply didn’t get off on pleasing you— yeah you knew it wasn’t that one, if the way he thrusted his bulge in the air whenever your thighs wrapped around his head for relief every time he ate you out said anything.
you simply didn’t understand— what man would refuse receiving head after giving the nastiest of it?
your fingers clawed at a snowy pile of hair, back arched as you ground your hips into his mouth. he ate your pussy like a starved man, sloppy and coordinated, as his lips latched onto yours as if he’d die without your taste in his mouth
his tongue swiped up your juices as he lapped at your folds, dragging the top of his wet muscles against your core, nibbling at your puffy clit. gojo was on his knees, moaning like a slut in between your thighs as you used him to chase your orgasm.
“ngh, fuck— right there baby,” you mewled, toes curling as your back hit the cold wall of the bathroom stall. his hands gripped at your ass, caressing and squeezing the mounds to pull you in tighter than you’d already been. your mind felt hazy, so overcome with lust that you were ready to burst your dam down his throat. “oh m’ goddd, so fuckin’ close toruuu!”
“give it all t’me pretty baby,” his words come out muffled, only pulling away just slightly. his rosy lips are glossed your arousal and his saliva, a consistency so thick it connects a strand of fluid from your bottom lips to his own. his skin is blotched in lust, cerulean eyes dazed in awe. “cum in my mouth princess, needa taste you.”
your orgasm washes over you before you can even register it, a sensation so powerful you cry out as your dam erupts. splurges of your essence shoots from your cunt down to his mouth, and as you roll your eyes to the back of your skull, you notice so does he. his fingernails dig into the flesh of your skin, pinning you down as he humbly welcomes your cum.
“s’gooddd, shit toru!” you feel your bottom lip quivering, limbs twitching from overstimulation as he continues to ravish you. your groin tingles in heat, body weak as it succumbs to the pleasure gojo gives it. you feel weak, a feeling you’re never able to adapt to no matter how much he attempts to prepare you for it. “uhn uhn— too much, can’t take it!” your head shakes from side to side, nails clawing at his scalp as you attempt to push him away.
the pad of his fingers slip from your ass to snake in between your legs, spanking your wet pussy thrice to keep you in check, and your knees crumbles. gojo latches his lips at your clit once more, and you feel the world blackout. “stop that— fuckin’ take it baby. i know my good girl can take it.”
he leaves you no choice, eyes trailing upwards to land on your figure, the dip in your back so sinful that you feel as though both your bodies have merged into one. his tongue works so deep into you, it feels as though you’re both puzzle pieces that were made to connect to one another. your thighs are quivering around his head, and you feel your back slipping against the wall. shit.
“mmhm, nooo, ‘m gonna cum again!” you pout, tears built at your lash line now streaking down your cheeks. it’s all too much— the sensation so raw that you look for an escape. you want to push him off, to take a breather and regain your composure. but he’s looking at you with such expectations, eyes shimmering with eagerness as he lifts both your legs onto his shoulder for support.
he manhandles your body like it’s nothing— like you weigh nothing. your limp body now slides upwards, higher up in the air than you’d been a second ago. gojo rises to his full height and motorboats into your dripping cunt.
you wail out, head throw back against the stall as a desperate mouth gnaws at your folds. you’re sure he’s dripping from his mouth to his chin, a mixture of fluids so prominent that it dribbles down to the marble floor. “haaah, oh shit— baby, i can’t— fuck, y’eat my pussy sooo fuckin’ good!” the praises flow past your tongue so naturally, hands torn between pushing and pulling away from the painful pleasure. “nghhh, i— ‘m gonna— holy shit!”
your back hits the wall in waves of full body twitches, your cunt clamping down on his tongue as you weakly splurts drops of more cum. fat tears stain your cheeks, blood rushing hotly from head to toe, spraying gojo’s face in your essence.
“atta fuckin’ girl.” he groans into your pussy, almost more drunk on the taste of you than you are. he flicks his tongue up and down, dragging your orgasm as far as he can, completely enthralled by the desperate thrusts of your hips into his face. you’re smearing his face with your fluids, and from the fucked out look on your face— eyes crossed and tongue lolled out, he decides this might be the best way to go. “there we go— yeah baby, jus’ like that, mhmm.”
the timeline from your coming down to actually coming down to the floor is all blurry, but you’re barely able to stand on your two feet when you feel his hand cup at your chin tightly. his index finger raises your face to stare up at his, all moist from fluids and humidity but you don’t think he’s ever looked prettier.
his lips meet yours desperately, lips sloshing over one another as the taste of your cum now sits atop your taste pallets. his free hand snakes around your waist, holding you still as you lazily loop your arms around his neck, deepening the kiss.
he’s so good at it all— the nibbles of his teeth at your bottom lip making your legs go weak, stomach churning in more lust. he smells like a mixture of you and his expensive cologne— so satoru like, that you’re positive if this keeps going, you may blackout on the cold floor of this bathroom stall in the club.
he kisses you like he’s got something to prove, and eventually your lungs are filled with his provided oxygen, and you truly believe you’re going to pass out. you pull just slightly away, much to his disdain. he whines, tip of your noses just barely an inch away as you pant over his cupid’s bow. “fuck.”
“mmhm, that good?” gojo teases, the corner of his mouth tugging into a smirk you’re too familiar with. you don’t have it in you to flick his forehead.
instead, you opt with sighing. “that good.” your hands trail down his nape, nails grazing at the sensitive skin beneath his undercut, scratching and lightly pulling at his locks. he shudders at your touch, leaning forward to rest his sweat forehead against yours.
your touches lower from his shoulders down to his chest, grazing your fingers over his perky buds, teasing his nipples. he’s so touch starved, jaw slackened as he moans— breath warm as it fans your face. your hands begins to lower down to his hips, seductive touches that has him biting his lips, hips instinctively jerking to meet with your light grazing.
you keep steady eye contact with him as your hands finally land at his raging bulge. the material over his hard-on is damp in his pre cum, and it feels hot beneath your touch. with a slight tilt of your head, “lemme take care of you, toru.”
you can see him battling his own thoughts. his pupils widen in lust, orbs swimming in excitement as you palm his erection more precisely. he’s twitching beneath your cupped hand, humping against your palm as his throat erupts a desperate pant.
you wonder if today’s the day he’s finally going to let you see his dick— to let you swallow him whole and please him just as he does with you. you want to get on your knees and take him so far down your throat that tears build and you force gags back down. you’re sure he’s all pretty and pink, a length to match his abnormally tall height and girth ready to stretch your throat muscles.
but as always, just like the night before, he chuckles and shakes his head. he’s refusing you again, hands gripping at your waist to push you away from him.
“you know i can’t do that baby,” he sighs, a small smile appearing on his wet lips. you can tell he’s frustrated with himself, so unsure as the pad of his thumbs rub the bare skin of your waist. you jut your bottom lip in annoyance, although expecting his refusal. “maybe next time, yeah?”
you’re annoyed as you push him away, pushing your skirt back down so it falls down your ass. and you’re sure he notices too. you don’t object when he grabs the toilet paper from the stall to clean the left over mess between your thighs— though your arms do cross over the flimsy material of your tight top over your chest.
“mhm, sure.”
☆ ☆
about a week later, you’re on all fours on his annoyingly large king-sized bed, hands clawing at his sheets as you push your hips back into his fingers. he’s scissoring your cunt open, knuckles-deep in and every precise thrusts has you seeing stars.
“yesyesyes!” you nod your head feverishly, babbles slipping past your tongue and dribbling down the damp sheets beneath you. “oh m’god, feels sooo fuckin’ good, ngh!” there you sat naked and exposed, getting the life fucked out of you by his fingers alone, a length so impossible that you’re convinced his index and middle finger eventually bump your cervix with how deep he works himself into you.
gojo lands a few kisses at the back of your thighs, kneeled down at the edge of his bed as he twists his fingers into your cunt. he’s enamoured by the sloppiness of your tight pussy gripping at his digits so desperately, a squelching sound so harmonious it has him rubbing his own thighs against one another.
“face down, baby.” gojo commands, his free hand coming up to press at your lower back. you obey his order, pressing your cheek down against his sheets, arms silently thanking the man for the break of supporting your body up. you mewl when you feel him plunging his teeth into the soft skin of your ass, before running a wet tongue over the stinging pain. “there’s my good girl. heh, such an obedient lil’ thing.”
you lay pressed against his bed as you take his ruthless pounding, the tip of his fingers reaching the gummy spot that has stars dancing at the back of your eyelids. god, he always knew how to make a mess out of you— your body his temple, a book he’s dead over a million times and has learned to memorize.
“cute lil hole jus’ seems sooo enticing,” you feel the warmth of his breath fanning against your twitching rim, waves of warm air tickling the muscle. it doesn’t surprise you when you feel his wet tongue caressing your tight hole with light touches, just pushing slightly past unspoken boundaries. your stomach tightens the more relaxed he becomes, lapping from the bottom of your cunt up to your asshole, savouring you whole as he works himself into your clingy pussy.
“t-toru, oh yes baby— ‘m gonna cummm!” you whine, sobbing when your orgasm finally does catch up to you— as if he hadn’t already known. you walls clamp down on his fingers for dear life, folds twitching as they secrete your honeyed essence all over his hand and down to his sheets.
gojo never lets up, stringing along as he encourages you even further, “that’s it babyyyy, there we go.” drool slips past his kiss-bitten lips and down to your sopping wet cunt, tongue still working its way at the tightness of your forbidden hole. you look so fucking cute all shaken up, barely keeping yourself together as your moans echoes off his walls and fade into the stillness of the night.
he’s so fucking hard it hurts, but he’d take seeing you wrecked and ruined by his hands alone over the selfish tendencies of asking you to take care of him back. and he knew you’d known that already, if the way your body immediately lurches forward to melt into the sloth ess of silk sheets beneath you said anything.
you feel large hands grip at your thighs, trailing up before landing on your ass. he spreads apart your cheeks, sticky residue spreading your pussy lips with a sinful sound. you shiver, the cold breeze hitting your cunt a mix of overstimulated senses hitting at once.
he collects your liquids at the pad of his fingers, before wrapping his tongue around the digits. he nearly cums at your taste alone, “fuckkk, y’taste so fuckin’ sweet, princess.” and he pushes forward to drag his tongue along the evidence of your orgasm on your thighs, trailing up to the cleft of your ass and to your cunt, cleaning up after his mess.
you know better, and yet you still try anyway. with a shy tilt of your head, you look back to the starved man between your thighs and offer the prettiest smile you can, cheeks flushed in heat and lips glossed in saliva. “y’gonna let me take care of you yet?”
it doesn’t surprise you when he chuckles, releasing the fat of your cunt from his mouth with a nasty pop! to rise up to his full height, bending over your body to entrap yours within his arms. your back arches as you tilt your head backwards to meet his gaze, boobs pressed up together.
he stares at you with an unreadable expression, though the prominent dimple sitting in his cheek pops. “this was more than enough for me, ya little minx.”
☆ ☆
“if we get c-caught, i’ll fucking kill you.” you whisper, hands curling at the edge of his office desk. your eyes repeatedly darted towards the unlocked door, right before you, where anybody could walk into his office and see their boss on his knees for you during his lunch break, eating you out.
he pulls away with a dreamy sigh, a firm grip on your ass jiggling the cheek. “a man can’t enjoy his lunch in peace? not my fault ‘m starving.” there’s a filthy string of your essence and his saliva that connects from his lips to your lower ones.
“get real!” you hiss at him, despite the familiar feeling of heat licking at your limbs. “you asked me to bring your lunch and— ohhh!” your words soon die in your throat as your head rolls forward, and your bottom lip now tucked beneath your teeth. the warmth slide of his tongue at your clit has your nails scratching the surface of his desk, and your back curves into him.
“you worry too much,” gojo mumbles, before pressing a kiss to your pussy. he feels it throb against him, as he hums and runs the pad of his fingers against your messy folds. you shudder at the stimulation, your hips subconsciously grinding down on his fingers to follow his wavelength. with a smug smile, “see? at least yer pussy’s honest wimme— just lemme take care of her.”
“f-fucking bastard.” you grit through your teeth, though you make no objections. you could act high and mighty all you wanted, you never pushed him away whenever he offered to please you. it was almost like he solely got off on it— your pleasure alone. “i h-hate you.”
“love you too, princess.” he smirks, and you decide to brush off the tight squeeze at your heart at his words.
his tongue fucked into your hole yet again, and your eyes roll to the back of your skull. you really couldn’t get enough of this— of him. you’d repay him your gratitudes if he’d let you. you’d push him back, lay him down and suck his dick eagerly if only he’d let you. you wonder the length of his cock, if it curves, how flushed his tip must get or how much pre leaks from his slit. you want it so bad, and fuck if only he’d let you. but,
he doesn’t.
he gives and gives but never takes. he’ll call you and tells you he’s in dire need of eating you out— of making you cum, and the minute you return the same energy, he finds an excuse to walk away. you’re slowly losing your mind— you crave the taste of him on your tongue, to hear how whiney he sounds once his tip hits the back of your throat, or how pretty he’d look with his eyes rolled to the back of his skull and hips thrusting uncontrollably into your mouth.
“toruuu,” you whine, tilting your head back. tears build in your eyes as they accumulate at your lash line. your bottom lip juts, a soft pout resting on your lips as you flutter your lashes at the man behind you. even with a mouth full of your pussy, his eyes never lie. “c’mon, lemme return the— ngh, favour,” you feel a beat of a pause at your words, and you egg it on further. “i know you’re rock hard. . . you c-can put it in, i won’t, mmhm—mind.”
he swears he cums. he swears he feels his balls tighten and release hot and thick strings of cum in his slacks, briefs tainted white with shame. you were going to be the death of him— you and your doe eyes, glossy lips and perky ass. it grows sticky between his thighs, but his hips twitch as his throat erupts a guttural groan.
“you can’t just fucking say that,” gojo whines, nuzzling his nose into the cleft of your ass. he’s whimpering against your skin, breath warm and moist as his panting grows heavier by the second. you shake your hips against his face, batting your full lashes, and he groans even louder. “you have no idea what you do to me—fucking hell.”
“enlighten me then.” you reach your hand out to fluff his pile of damp hair. he instinctively leans into your touch, peppering kisses all over your skin. you’d never thought you’d have the gojo satoru on his knees for you, demanding you let him please you. “let me suck your dick toru, ‘m real good at it.”
his breath hitches in his throat and you’re positive you’ve finally got him. he’s going to cave in and sit on his office chair, pull his pants down and let you handle his mess. he’s going to realize he’s wasted plenty of time pushing the idea away the second you swallow his length whole and—
“i’m sure you are,” gojo speaks, but you can tell there’s a but following. you sigh, and he offers a sheepish smile in return. “but you know ‘m good here. just wanna make you feel good— your pleasure is mine, i promise. trust me on that, yeah?”
all arguments are thrown out the window the instant his lips latch back onto your sloppy ones.
☆ ☆
“uhn uhn. . . ‘s too muchhh!” you whine, squirming in his lap in attempts to run away. your clit ached almost painfully, repeatedly abused by the vibrations of the toy gojo had stimulating. the soft hums of the vibrator echoed in the room in harmony with your pleads, but gojo was a sadist and unfortunately you might’ve been a masochist. “c-can’t cum anymore!”
“aweee, but of course you can!” he kisses the sensitive skin on your neck, before nuzzling his nose into the crook. his legs spread wider to further open your shaky ones, and his free hand cups at your breast. “you pussying out on me, baby?”
no, you were not. “of c-course not,” you muster to glare at him through the reflection of the mirror before you both. piercing blue eyes never left your body for a second, drinking up every reaction you had to offer him. you nearly felt . . . shy at his gaze. “just hurts a little, fuckkk, you mean b-bitch.”
“mmhm.” gojo nods, fingers tweaking at the buds of your stiff nipples. he rolls the bud between his knuckles, drawing out broken moans out of you as the consistent buzz of the vibrator at your pussy doesn’t let up. he presses another kiss, at your temple, “you’re my good girl, i don’t expect otherwise.”
you bite your lip, cheeks flushing in what feels like embarrassment. him and his damn praises. he knows what he’s doing to you, rosy lips tugging into that smirk as his facial expression scream smug. you wish you could punch the bastard right in the face, but that thought is quickly gone when he pinches hard at your tits.
“shittt,” you mewl, grinding your hips down on his. you feel his bulge poking at your ass— so hard and prominent, proof of his arousal. his lap is drenched in your juices, evidence of multiple rounds seeping into the material of his sweatpants. “so fuckin’ good, hnng, you’re sooo fuckin’ good to me.” you raise an arm to grab at the base of his neck, threading your fingers through his soft locks.
you ooze sex appeal, everything you do and say so erotic, and gojo is easily your slave. “yeah?” he mumbles into your skin, though he looks at your reflection through snowy lashes. your back arches sinfully, ass pressed so snuggly against his lap and your pussy leaking buckets worth of cum. “tell me, what else am i?”
the vibrator attacking your clit has your left leg shaking uncontrollably, the knot in your stomach quickly tightening. you chew on your bottom lip, eyelids resting shut as you focus on spewing your next words, carefully selecting them. you can’t help the chuckle that reaches your mouth instead of a moan, “a bitch.”
“oh?” gojo cocks an eyebrow, another chuckle now audible despite it not coming from you. he drags the vibrator down your slippery folds and all the way back up to your clit, and you tighten your hold on his hair. “those weren’t supposed to be your next words, sweetheart.”
“y-you’re a bitch,” you continue regardless, and gojo can’t deny he’s attracted to you for your sheer audacity. he’s always been a fiend for a good challenge. “won’t even let me give you head— ngh, thought i was the one with a pussy.”
“you’re wounding my ego here,” gojo slides his hand from your tits and trail it all the way up to your mouth. he spreads your lips with two fingers, before hooking them at the corner of your mouth. “callin’ me a pussy? that’s a low blow, baby.”
you squint at him through the foggy mirror, applying pressure to the bulge poking at your ass. you smile when he groans into your ear, “you got a small dick or somethin’? gotta say— fuck, s-sure doesn’t feel like you do.” you throw your head back onto his shoulder, lips grazing over the shell of his ear, “should i check for myself? hnng, see if satoru owns a pussy?”
there’s a click in the air and suddenly the humming of the vibrator stops. finally. had you finally blown his fuse? ironically, your clit secretes more liquid as the idea of him finally pulling his pants off and dicking you down comes to mind. once his pride deflates, he does whatever he can to prove otherwise.
you’re sure you’ve got him.
“heh, you’ve got some nerve.” gojo snorts, and you don’t register how he’s manhandle you to the floor, hands holding your entire upper body steady as your thighs now wrap around his shoulders. the position has your back arched like a cat, and you raise your head up to watch him confusedly through the glass mirror.
two firm hands grip at your ass cheeks, spreading them apart as he licks his lips hungrily, “it’s lookin’ like you’ll never know.” he bares his fangs at you, and you sigh before he feasts again.
☆ ☆
it doesn’t feel right. none of it does. it’s nowhere remotely near cheating, and yet, as this man litters your neck and chest with loving kisses, you feel your stomach churning in guilt.
here he is, offering himself to you, willing to give you what you’d been deprived off since you’d started your arrangement with gojo— willing to rock your world, bump hips and coax an penetrative orgasm out of you— but all you could think about was how wrong this all felt.
though a pleasant smell, these sheets don’t smell like him. they don’t feel like him either. instead of wide cerulean eyes and untamed white hair is stern brown eyes and kept blonde hair. where should be blotches of red on flawless skin is stress lines infused skin.
you felt awful, burning touches trailing between your thighs instead of that electricity that had your stomach twisting with butterflies.
“is everything alright?” the man pulls away from your legs, and questions. he’s so kind, willing to ask how you’re feeling in the midst of it all, and all you can think about is gojo.
no, nothing’s fine. “yeah, i’m good.” you lie, offering a smile. you’re a good liar, and it seems he falls for your words as he proceeds, pushing your panties to the side and works his tongue into you.
his movements are calculated and measured, paying attention to all areas of your cunt. he eats you out good, there’s no denying so, has your toes curling and back arching off his mattress. you lower your hand to tighten his locks, but even that feels wrong— it’s not as fluffy as gojo’s. you think you feel hair gel between your knuckles.
your mind runs a mile an second, overwhelmed by the sole idea that you were offering your body to another man. gojo wasn’t yours— not in the slightest, and yet, as he sucked on your clit and gripped at your thighs, your chest felt unreasonably tight.
you couldn’t do this any longer.
“wait— wait, please stop.” you push his head away, bottom lip quivering. he pulls away instantly, a string of saliva connecting from his lips to your cunt. you feel sick at the confused look on his face. “i can’t— i can’t do this. i’m so sorry.”
the man stares at you for a moment, though never maliciously, and you feel like wanting to crawl into a hole. he nods his head, before pushing your panties back to where they belong, and pushes himself up. silence fills the air for a while, and you’re holding back tears. you’re not sure why, though.
“it’s gojo, isn’t it?” he asks, though he’s not posing a question. he knows, surely everybody knows that you belong to him in both body and soul, but this has only been a recently found discovery for you.
your silence speaks volumes, and the man nods once more.
“yeah, that’s what i thought too.”
☆ ☆
to say he was surprised was definitely an understatement. he wasn’t expecting you to show up at his place, despite already having given you a key to his apartment.
you barged through his bedroom door, a location you were already too familiar with and unknowingly had become so accustomed to. your chest is heaving as if you’d ran a marathon before showing up here, and he wants to kiss the pout off your lips. “pants off, now.”
gojo rises from his bed to stand at his full height, a surprised smile stretching onto his face. “woah, at least take me out on a date first! i’m not just some whore.” his hands comically rise up in surrender, and your frown deepens.
“why won’t you let me give you head?” you ask him before you can even process your choice of wording. when his brows jump to his hairline at your boldness, you feel your face warm in embarrassment. “i mean seriously— am i the problem?”
“what?” gojo blinks, taking quick strides towards your fuming self. he shakes his head feverishly, “no, that’s not it at all—”
“then why do you keep rejecting me?” you cut him off, crossing your arms over your chest. you probably look and sound desperate, but the truth is you were. the first few times could be deemed funny, but there’s so much rejection a girl can take before it starts to become an insecurity. “why do you keep pushing me away? am i that unattractive to you?”
you’d never seen him look so panicked in his life. had it been under any other circumstance, you woulda laughed at the way his pupils blew widely and how his hands started waving all over the place, “no! jesus, are you kidding me— have you seen yourself? what sane man would think that—”
“what sane man wouldn’t want sex?” you bite back, and he’s taken aback. you see it in the way the words in his mouth die down, the way his body stills just slightly, the way his arms drop to his sides. you continue, “what sane man wouldn’t want head? what sane man solely focuses on pleasing a woman and not himself—”
“hey,” gojo frowns. “any sane man would aim to please his partner first and foremost.”
“well usually sane men accept the favour when offered back to them!” you counter, and once more, gojo was cornered into the wall. he remained quiet, an ideaology uncharacteristic to a man like himself, and waited for you to get it off your chest.
“it’s just. . .” you sigh, licking your lips. and he watches you, intently. you’re almost too embarrassed to say it, but enough was enough. “i just don’t get it! i’m thinking it’s because i’m unattractive to you but—”
“i’ve literally came in my pants from eating you out.” he interrupts, raising an eyebrow. your face deadpans as does his. he’s dead serious too. oh that bastard, “multiple times, may i add. try again.”
“then it has to be you think i’m dirty.” you assume, and he tilts his head to the side with an expression that screams ‘seriously’. your annoyance builds up the more he looks at you like you’re crazy for him denying you of his pleasure. “i can assure you i’m clean— i’m not some fucking whore.”
“and i can assure you that thought has never once crossed my mind.” gojo snorts, body language now looser. his hands sit in the pockets of his sweats, a taunting smile on his lips. “what’s the next excuse?”
“oh that’s rich coming from you,” you sneer, poking your finger at his chest. he snorts again, and you feel like you’re about to lose your mind. “what else could it possibly be? you’re so fucking confusing, toru, i have no idea what goes on in your mind!”
“you, all the time.” gojo shrugs as if it’s the most obvious thing. he says it as if you asked him if the sky was blue or if grass was green. “you go through my mind all the time. it’s that simple, really.”
“stop the bullshit, satoru.” you frown, pinching the bridge of your nose. your head was starting to ache, and you’d come for closure on this torment, but of course he had to stretch it out.
“but i’m being so serious?” he tilts his head. “it really is just you. you don’t think i want your lips wrapped around my cock? to feel how tight your pussy would be around me? seriously?”
“then why don’t you let me?!” you sigh exasperatedly, throwing your arms in the air. you didn’t understand this at all— you were both on the same page here, so why didn’t he let you? was he ashamed or something?
he goes quiet again, and you’re contemplating on storming out of his room. you give him a few seconds to collect his thoughts, to decide on whether he wants to finally tell you the truth or find another plausible excuse that would have you drive back home.
there’s this look of embarrassment all over his face, his eyes unable to look at you. he scratches the corner of his mouth, lips tugging into a sheepish smile. “i’m. . . scared. kinda.”
you blink at him. “wait— are you a virgin?”
“no!” he immediately defends himself, and you raise an eyebrow at his sudden eagerness. he waves his hands around again to affirm his statement, “i’m not!”
“so. . . you’re a slut?” you ask instead, and he face palms himself. the nerve he had, to face palm himself when he’s giving you the faintest of clues. what were you supposed to understand from that alone?
“y/nnnn!” he drags out your name childishly, the skin of his cheeks flushed a bright pink. he hides his face in the palms of his hands, as if to cower himself away from this discussion. you think the sight is cute actually— a grown man shy about his sex life. how ironic.
“just spit it out.” you tut and he peels his hands away from his face. your eyes narrow as you wait on his answer, watching him fidget with his fingers and shy his gaze away from you. the wall at your side had to be so damn interesting if he couldn’t hold eye contact with you.
you sigh, “i promise i won’t make fun of you.”
your word alone seems to offer some sort of comfort. his lips part to speak, but it feels like an eternity and a half before words finally come out. “i. . . i don’t wanna embarrass myself in front of you.”
now you’re confused. “whadya mean?”
he grumbles, lips falling into that pout he does whenever he doesn’t get something done his way. there’s a crease in his brows, a frown so deep you’re worried you said something wrong.
“i didn’t want to give you the ick, okay?” gojo finally sputters, the blush on his cheeks now spreading down the base of his neck. he can feel his heartbeat thudding excessively loud against his rib cage, and his hands are starting to get moist.
woah, he must be really embarrassed. but about what? was he insecure about his penis?
“why would you give me the ick, toru?” you speak slowly, not wanting to scare him off. you take a step closer to him when you notice he took one back, resting a gentle hand on his bicep. your thumb rubs at his skin in what you hope is a soothing manner.
his eyes shift from the wall to your gentle touch. his bottom lip quivers and he takes in a big breath, before redirecting his gaze on you.
“because you’re you and i’m me!” he starts off, as if ready to confess everything. you take it as a good sign however. “it’s you we’re talking about— god, you’re so pretty and sexy and kind, and so attractive it fucking hurts— i’ve literally busted to your taste alone! i’m so fucking whipped it’s embarrassing. i literally think about you all the time— in bed, in the car, in the shower— i think about how good you smell and how sweet you taste and how addictive your smile is! all i have to do is think about you and i’m instantly hard— i’m like a fucking dog you trained!”
for once today, you’re left speechless.
“and- and,” he continues, “i had to master self-control. me, satoru gojo, had to learn to hold myself back. do you know how many times i’ve nearly folded? hm? how many times i almost caved in and damn near ripped your clothes off with my teeth? you’ve turned me into an animal! i’ve wanted you for an eternity, but i know myself— i wouldn’t last a second with my dick in your mouth! that’s what i’m scared of, i’m scared of embarrassing myself to you and you’ll run off or something and i’ll end up rotting and dying alone from embarrassment and—”
“okay, okay.” you hold a hand up to cut off his rant. he was starting to babble, and soon he would flow into an inescapable hole of self-wallowing. “i think i get it now.”
he’s breathing heavy, pupils blown wide. his lips are quivering and you can tell he’s really anxious of your answer. you’d never seen him so shaken, as if your next words would make or break his entire world.
well, here goes nothing. “i hooked up with another man.” you think you heart his heart shatter in his chest. his face goes slack as does his body, and he immediately reverts his eyes away from yours.
“oh.”
you realize you could’ve started a bit differently. “it didn’t really go far, because i was so preoccupied thinking about you.” you sigh shakily. “everything felt wrong, even when i tried convincing myself it wasn’t, but i couldn’t help but think of you, even with another man around.”
gojo remains quiet, and you’re not even sure where you’re going with this. what are these feelings you’re feeling?
“listen, i don’t know what that guilt was but i know i never want to feel it again.” your hand proceeds to run at his skin. he hasn’t pushed you off yet, so you’re hoping it’s working. “this whole time i was thinking i was unappealing to you, and you’re afraid of flattering me?”
gojo shoots his head up at that, “flattering you?”
you snort, loving the dumb look on his face. he didn’t have a fucking clue, did he? “do you have any idea what that would do to my ego? knowing i was able to make you nut off of head alone?”
“heyyy, don’t go using it against me!” he whines, pouting. “’s your fault anyway— how is somebody that perfect? i don’t get it, you’re genuinely unreal. i almost don’t like it.”
well he surely knew a way around with his words. you giggle, sliding the hand around his bicep up to the back of his neck. your other arm mimics, as your fingers card through his undercut. you can feel him shuddering beneath your touch, and he instinctively cups at your waist.
“now that i know your reasoning, i’m not gonna pressure you into anything you don’t wanna do.” you stare him up through your lashes. you weren’t sure how you didn’t see it before, but now they everything is clear, you swear you see hearts swimming in his orbs. cute. “but, you wouldn’t scare me off, toru. i can’t believe i’m saying this but i might be stuck with you— you say you’re a trained dog, then what does that make me? thought about you while another man ate me out.”
he frowns at that. oops. “he wasn’t better than me. . . was he?”
“never.” you shake your head, and feel the way his shoulders sag in relief. “and if it makes you feel better, we didn’t kiss and i never gave him a blowjob.”
he’s still pouting, but his nose scrunches in the way he does when he wants you to drown him with attention. when had you start noticing these details? “it does. . . i guess.”
“toruuu, you have to forgive me.” it’s your turn to pout, nails scraping at his scalp as your lashes flutter. you rise to the tip of your toes to plant a soft kiss on his lips— lustless. there’s a soft smack that separates both your pair of mouths, and you see the corner of his mouth threaten to twitch into a smile. his hold on your waist tightens and pulls you in closer. “want me to show you just how sorry am i?”
“mhm,” he mumbles, eyes stuck on the plumpness of your lips. he wants them back on his, and that’s exactly what he does, leaning forward to seal another chaste kiss. when he does pull away, it’s just slightly, tips of your noses still grazing one another. he bumps noses with yours, “prove it t’me.”
your cheeks feel like they’ll split with how widely you’re smiling, but that ends as soon as it came, when he lunges forward to kiss you again.
his jaw slacks as he ravishes your lips, tongues sloshing as he releases pretty moans into your mouth. you fed him everywhere— his tongue dancing at the roof of your mouth, his hands caressing your ass, the rhythm of his heartbeat through his chest vibrating against your own.
you walk forwards, lips never leaving his, as his steps move backwards. he tastes as sweet as always, a faint cherry flavour resting on his taste buds. soon enough he’s laid on his back on his own bed with you hovering him, your thighs resting at his sides. his hands grip at the meat on your legs.
“‘m gonna make you feel so good,” you pull away from his lips and trail your hand down his torso, all the way to his briefs’ waistband. “you’ve never had anything like it.” surely enough, he’s harder than he’s ever been, the outline of his cock seeping through the material of his pants. your hand slides lower to cup at the bulge, feeling up on his dick through your fingers, and he whines into your mouth, hips thrusting up into your touch.
“p-please, i’m— oh fuckkk,” he begs, moans croaking out of his throat as you slip your hand into his underwear. your touches are light, wanting to tease him as you collect endless beads of pre cum at the tip of your fingers. his hips never cease to buck into your palm, desperate for more.
“enough waiting, hm?” you tug down at his undergarments, and immediately get slapped in the face. his dick is nothing to scoff at— you’d only seen and felt it through the material of his pants, but now that it was bare and right before your eyes? his length had nothing on your imagination. with a pretty pink mushroom tip, vein throbbing on the underside, heavy balls and a cute curve to the left, his dick undoubtedly had your mouth watering.
he’s twitching sans cease, as if it had a mind of its own.
“can’t believe you were holding out me, toru,” you lick your lips, laying flat on your own stomach, between his legs. he’s pushed up on his elbows, watching as you stroke his cock languidly. “you’re so mean.” your fists tightens at the top of his cock, thumb rubbing at his oozing slit, before loosening your hold as you lower to the base.
he gulps, hands scrunching at the duvets beneath him. you’re giving him these eyes, and your fleeting touches on his dick will surely have him lose his mind. “stop teasing meee, i’ll—nghh!” you kiss the tip of his cock,
and in the blink of an eye, he cums. your eyes shut as ropes of hot, white cum shoot at your face, from all different kinds of directions. he cums, and it’s a lot. it almost feels never ending, as does his cries. his back arches and his hips hump the air, cock twitching uncontrollably as it erupts.
“oh nooo— shit, ngh, fuck— can’t help it!” veins bulge in his forearm with how intensely he’s gripping onto the covers. you think it’s rather adorable, how easily overwhelmed he gets.
it takes a lifetime for his high to come down. and through it all, you’re pumping at his cock, milking him for what he has to offer. silently of course, you’re not even sure he’d be able to hear anything you have to say with how vocal he is.
when it all becomes too much, he starts shivering from oversensitivity, and his cock jumps weakly. you pull your hand away, and his dick falls onto his lower stomach. he’s breathing heavily, head thrown back as you clean the cum off your face. you pop a finger in your mouth, he tastes sweet. “hm.”
“just,” gojo pauses, taking another deep breath in. the ceiling must be real interesting for him. “just go on with it. but don’t say i didn’t tell you so.”
you smirk, now popping the finger out of your mouth with a wet plop! “you really weren’t kidding.”
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hmm can anybody guess who the “mystery man” you hooked up with is ? 🌚
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agentmarcuspike · 2 days
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dave york x babysitter!f!reader
summary: the kids you babysit have a hot dad. you want him. but he's married... cws: unfaithfulness (dave is married to carol), power imbalance (employer and employee), fainting, thigh grinding, fingering, reader wears a skirt, dad!dave and his kids, nicknames (baby, honey), reader sits in dave's lap, mention of blood, frottage kinda, one (1) shoulder bite word count: 2.7k divider by @thecutestgrotto thank you and shoutout to my cheerleaders on this, liv @5oh5 and han @swiftispunk <3 and my love @joelsversion for helping with the header <3
"Without touching his skin, How can I be guilty as sin?"
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You hate being alone with Dave York.
There’s nothing wrong with him. He’s a perfectly pleasant, well-mannered man. His daughters, Molly and Alice, are angels when you look after them (mostly), and nothing Dave has ever said or done has made you uncomfortable. Your interactions are innocent and professional. And that’s exactly the problem. 
There’s nothing wrong with him.
Because when you’re left alone together, in the evenings when his kids are asleep and he offers to drive you home, or in the mornings on the days he doesn’t work  from home and he pours you a cup of coffee in the kitchen while you make the girls breakfast… you can’t stop your mind from wandering.
You’re not entirely sure what Mr. York does for work, but you know he must look good doing it. Prancing around the house in his fitted dress pants that hug his front and back just right. His loose dress shirt hiding the body you suspect is strong and strapping, based on the sounds coming from the garage when he tells you he’ll be working out. And those are just the parts you don’t get to see.
His hands, however, are always on full display. When they curl around that mug he hands you. His palm brushing the small of your back as he opens the door for you when you leave. Fingers tapping, sometimes only one on the steering wheel, when he drives you home. When he’s typing away at the computer in his home office, or brushing the hair out of his girls’ faces before kissing their heads goodnight on the nights that he makes it home in time. Oh, those fingers… and that ring.
The ring he wears as a promise to Carol, his wife, that he’ll always be faithful to her. You should know how much a promise like that means. Someone once promised you the same. To always be there, to never stray. But stray they did. And the pain of that is something you don’t wish on anyone.
So yes, you hate being alone with Dave York. Because he’s so close. You spend more hours in his house than your own, basically raising his kids. And he’s right there… but he’s not for you.
It has been a very long day, and yet the clock on the kitchen stove shows only 11:27. The girls have run through the garden sprinklers all morning, worn out and down for a nap already, a combination of heat and exhaustion making you wish you could do the same. The heat wave has lasted for days now, only alleviated by a few minutes of clouds during the worst hours. 
Your bare thighs cling to the chair as you get up to clean up your lunch. It’s quick work, so you do the rest of the dishes too, even though it’s not your job. Warm soapy water prunes your fingers quickly, the only parts of your body not already damp with sweat. The house is rarely this quiet during the day, only the distant sounds of traffic from the main road blocks away filling the room, joining the splashing of water and clangs from dishes as you put them back into their cabinets. Some mornings you can hear Dave talking in his office, the sound carrying through the house. You can never make out what it is he’s talking about, only the low rumble of his voice sometimes plaited with other voices through computer speakers. He’s quiet today. 
This heat is unbearable, you think, as you wipe your forehead with wet hands. Leaning on the counter, you take a deep breath. For a second your eyesight falters, and lightheadedness washes over you. Have you even had a glass of water today? You can feel your legs start to wobble, vision turning static, and you’ve just started swaying when–
“Hey, hey!” 
A strong hand grabs your arm as you topple over, and you lean into Dave’s solid chest, letting him support your weight as you focus on your breathing. 
“There you go, honey,” he soothes. “Deep breaths.”
His shirt smells crisp and clean, the scent interrupted by whiffs of soap and cologne from his skin underneath it, as you inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale.
“You okay?” His big hand draws circles on your back, still holding you up with the other.
“Just hot…” you manage, lifting your head up to see a concerned Dave look down at you with furrowed brows. 
“Come lie down in my office for a bit, the AC is better in there.”
He supports you on your unsteady legs with an arm firmly around your waist, guiding you to his work room at the other end of the house. You’ve never really been in there, only stuck your head through the door to let him know you’re leaving at the end of the day.
The room is huge, especially for a home office. Floor to ceiling windows cover the far wall, his desk in the middle of the room, facing the door. Bookcases line the other walls, filled with mostly folders and what looks like heavy encyclopedias. In front of one of them is, of all things, a chaise lounge. What is he, a shrink? You’ve never seen him have anyone else in there, but for all you know he might as well be. He’s got the calm and steady presence you imagine one would need to be any kind of doctor.
“Here,” he says as he guides you over to the chaise, one big hand engulfing yours, the other supporting your neck as you lower yourself down.
“Let me get you some water.” 
As he leaves the office again, you hurriedly smooth your skirt down, suddenly very aware of how much skin you’re showing. If you lift your knees your entire ass would be on display for him when he returns, but you know keeping your feet up will be good for the dizziness. You settle for an in-between, only one leg raised, and the other straight out, just as Dave returns, bottle in hand. He twists the cap open before he hands it to you.
“Thanks,” you breathe as you accept it, gulping down half the contents in one go. You hand the bottle back to him and he chugs the rest. Your eyes are fixed on his plush lips around the bottle opening that was just between your own. You wonder what they would feel like on your warm skin.
As he drinks, a stray droplet escapes from the side of his mouth, trickling down to his chin. It runs down the length of his throat, Adam’s apple bouncing when he swallows, and then the drop disappears underneath his shirt collar. Your mouth waters, yet you feel even thirstier. You’d like to rip his shirt off and lick the droplet off his chest, as if only that could quench your thirst. And you can’t help but feel… No, you can help it. You should. It’s completely inappropriate. He’s your employer, your boss, and he’s… so Goddamn good looking. Shit.
He crumples the empty plastic before throwing it away in the bin next to his desk. Slumping down in his office chair he turns his attention to the computer screen.
Typing away at his keyboard, you watch him. Doctor York? Professor York? You try to imagine him; teaching a class, doing paperwork at an office, running a store, being someone’s strict and authoritarian boss. The latter thought makes your legs clench together involuntarily. 
“What do you do?”
The question escapes you before you can help it, and you cringe slightly at your own sudden bluntness. 
“Sorry?”
“I just realized I don’t know what you do for work.”
He doesn’t look up from the screen when he speaks, but a subtle smile plays on his lips.
“If I told you I’d have to kill you.” You laugh.
“That would suck. Who would look after your kids?”
“I’d be on the run, so not me.”
“Carol, then. All alone. Poor Carol.”
“Yeah. Poor Carol…” he agrees, voice suddenly grave.
A few minutes pass, comfortable yet somehow charged silence surrounding you. When he speaks again, his tone shifts—still dark, but less grave.
"Ever been to Europe?" he asks, breaking the stillness.
The unexpected question leaves you momentarily flustered.
“Uh, yeah, I, uhm… I went backpacking there a million years ago,” you stutter.
His eyes narrow slightly. "Really?"
“Why is that so hard to believe?" you challenge, squinting back at him.
“Just a little surprising, I suppose.” 
He meets your gaze without flinching, a spark of something unreadable flickering in his dark eyes.
“I’m actually planning a trip to Belgium. Come have a look at this.”
He beckons you closer with two fingers, the gesture innocent and yet, paired with your clouded judgment and current state of mind, borderline obscene.
Carefully, you put your two feet down on the floor, taking a moment to test your balance. Once confident you won’t topple over again, you step over to his side of the workspace. You lean over his desk, one hand on the table and one on the armrest of the office chair he’s seated in, squinting at the screen. It’s probably very interesting, pictures and lists of things to do and see abroad, but the only thing you can focus on is the sliver of ass you know is revealed when you bend over in this particular skirt. You’d usually wear something more work appropriate, even just a pair of hot pants underneath. But this weather… This heat…
Dave’s gaze is just as scorching as he awaits your reaction, and you can tell he’s working hard not to let his eyes wander. Just like you do, when from the corner of your eye you spot his hand moving absentmindedly up and down his thigh, resting a little too long at the top, thumb grazing his groin.
“Want me to bring you something back?” he asks, voice low, close to a whisper, as if worried someone could hear him. 
You shift your weight from one leg to the other, giving your feet a little more space between them, making room between your thighs. Suddenly, his fingers graze the insides of your thighs and his hand trails upwards, coming to rest over the wet patch of your underwear, damp from your excitement or from the temperature you’re not sure. An audible sigh escapes you at the contact. He responds with a groan of his own as he starts drawing circles over your clothed clit.
“I’ve heard they have great chocolate,” you stutter in response to his question.
“Yeah? You got a sweet tooth?”
You wish desperately he would touch your skin, and try to angle your hips so he can slip a finger under your panties, but he just follows your movements, touching you through the fabric. You only hum in response.
“God, this isn’t right…” you hear him whisper to himself. You don’t disagree, yet neither of you make a move to stop.
His hands move to rest on your hips, and he slowly turns you to face him. Soft fingers grip you tightly. The insides of his legs brush the bare skin of your own, making you shiver despite the heat. Your eyes flutter shut.
“Look at me,” he says, pleading. So you do. The darkness of his eyes pull you in, and you’re almost taken over by the urge to lean down and kiss him. As you start to bend down, one hand resting on his shoulder, his hands on your hips keep you in place. At a distance.
“Tell me we shouldn’t do this.” His eyes rake over your body, taking you in, short fingernails digging into your skin. “Tell me this is wrong.”
It wouldn’t be a lie. It really is, and you really shouldn’t. So you’re not sure why throw one leg over his and straddle his thigh. A buzz shoots through you as your swollen core meets the tight muscle of his leg. You’re so close to him like this. So close you can feel the warm puffs of his quickened breath fan your skin, with a faint scent of coffee, toothpaste, and something else, indistinct but distinctly Dave.
Details of his complexion you’ve never noticed before become clear. The worry lines between his brows. The sharp curve of his cupid’s bow. The few hairs he’d missed while shaving, probably in a hurry, that morning.
Almost unwillingly your hips start drawing small circles, chasing release. Dave’s hands haven’t moved an inch, still gripping your hips, following your movements. His eyes are fixed at where your legs clasp around his own, soft movements growing erratic as your pleasure pulls you further.
Under his clothes he’s fully hard now, the fabric of his dress pants stretching around his erection. You imagine the weight of him in your hand, how your fingers would barely meet around his shaft when you jerk him off. You shift forward, thrusting, wanting desperately to feel him, but he holds you in place, pulling his own hips away from you.
“Nuh-uh.” One of his hands releases its grip on you and rises to gently cup your face. The tips of his fingers barely brush your skin. “Not like that.”
“What?” you breathe.
“Just…” Dave’s face contorts slightly as he sighs. “Just take what you need. What you want.”
You continue to grind on his thick thigh, drenching his trousers with each movement. Back and forth, clenching around nothing. As your breath quickens, you hunch over more and more, forehead eventually landing on Dave’s shoulder. Your teeth come down on the soft flesh of your cheek, and you chew, molars slicing through the skin until you taste blood. 
“Come on,” he purrs, his voice hoarse and vibrating in your ear. “Come on, baby, give it to me.”
“I’m gonna–
Your mouth falls open in silent moan, and you bite down on his shoulder to keep from making a sound, soaking his already damp cotton shirt in saliva and drops of blood from the inside of your mouth. His grip on your hips is relentless, and he groans through his gritted teeth as you fall over the edge.
“Fucking… come… on.”
And you do.
Your thighs clench around Dave’s, and you can feel him tense up as well, sending new waves of pleasure through your core. The buzzing vibration runs from your middle, through your spine, and sets off another spark at the very top of your skull. Your hairs stand up, goosebumps. The blood pumping in your ears deafens you momentarily. 
With your nose buried in his neck, nuzzled behind his ear, you take a few breaths to restrain yourself. His hands are looser on you now, thumbs drawing small circles on your hip bones. His chest rises and falls underneath you, slowing in time with yours.
And just as you’re about to lift your head from his shoulder, not quite ready to face the reality of what has just happened, what you’ve done, someone else breaks the silence.
“Daddy!”
Molly’s sleepy voice is unmistakable from down the hall. Dave’s hands are off you in a second, and you barely have time to react before he’s on his feet.
“Dave, I’ll take her–”
But he’s already out the door.
Once you’ve flattened your skirt and straightened up in the hallway bathroom, you find them in the kitchen. Molly is blabbering, Alice yawning, while Dave is listening and laughing, arranging their lunch in funny shapes on their plates. Cucumbers for eyes, a slice of bell pepper for a pair of red lips, a piece of mushroom becomes the nose. The children giggle at their Dad’s shenanigans. 
You stand in the doorway, observing. Domestic bliss. They’re not your kids and he’s not your husband, and this moment is not for you. As the kids’ laughter and the clang of kitchenware reverberates through the open kitchen, you catch yourself wondering how Dave will explain the stains you made on his clothes to Carol.
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taglist:
@hellfire-state-of-mind @janaispunk @joelscruff @takochansugoi @paanchusblog
@pastelpinkflowerlife @mountainsandmayhem @inept-the-magnificent @bitccchmood @sullyselena
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@seasonaldelusion @scenaaario @punkshort @frogturtlejr @kt86
@sweetperfectioncloud @hannahkatharine @fandomoniumflurry @emisreadingstuff @knopes-waffles
@your-teeth-glow-in-the-dark @rsquared31 @r3dheadedwitch @alejaa-a @myhappyplaceofstuff
@yodasgreenthumb @dovedewdrop @saradika @clawdee @harrisonispunk
@lostfleurs @always-andromeda @amanitacowboy
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li0nn3stuff · 1 day
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Kiddo
Chapter seven
Kiddo masterlist
English is not my first language, be kind.
Modern!Older!Aemond x Modern!Younger!Reader
•Chapter warnings: obsession, stalking, talking of sexual themes, handjob, kissing, manipulation•
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Two months and a half after the encounter.
-Something wrong, kiddo?-
He stared at his own message. He was tense, angry.
“Fuck!” He screamed as he threw his phone on the other part of his room.
She hadn’t been texting him in two weeks. She was the one to always text him, always so eager to hear from him, to talk to him.
But she stopped.
He had texted her three days ago, but she didn’t answer, and that made him utterly crazy.
How dared she ignore him?!
Who the fuck did she thought she was to believe she had the right to ignore him?
Two months after the encounter.
“You okay there?” He looked down at her, where she lay still curled up on his chest.
“... yeah.” She answered softly.
“Do you want something to drink?” He asked then, he saw her nodding. She moved off of him and sat on the couch as he got up to get her a glass of water, coming back soon after, and handing it to her. She blushed as soon as she saw him, and took the glass, glancing down at his lap.
He was still hard rock. He wasn’t ashamed of it, and he didn’t even try to cover it.
He knew she was thinking about what just happened, and asking herself what was going on with him, but she was too shy and embarrassed to ask.
Despite how much he wanted to do everything with her, he didn’t know if to approach the subject.
He was a dick, yes, he might be even trying to manipulate her, but even he recognised this was a lot for her. He sat back on the couch beside her.
“You know there is nothing to be embarrassed about, yeah?” He looked at her, but she refused to meet his eye. “This is how adults take care of each other, you know?”
“A–adults?” She asked, as she kept her glass on her lap, looking down at him.
“Yeah, adults. You’re a little adult, kiddo.” He tried to smile. She hesitantly raised her gaze at him.
“Am I?” She asked, her voice was trembling, like an insecure child.
“Of course you are.” He cupped her cheek with his hand and leaned closer. “Do you want to let me take care of you?” He saw her purse her lips, unsure. He looked down at her lips, moving his thumb to brush them, gently.
“Do I?” She asked him, her eyes full of insecurities.
“Of course you want to. I made you feel good, didn’t I? Besides, you said you trust me. Was it not true?” He raised his eyebrow, looking at her as she furrowed her eyebrows, scared to pass like a liar.
“I do trust you. I do not lie.” She specified. He nodded, caressing her shoulder with his other hand, looking at it for a brief moment.
“Then trust me, and let me take care of you.” He looked back at her, and he could see her more decisive. 
“I want to take care of you. I won’t leave you.” He scooped closer, his face mere millimeters from her.
“What are you doing?” She whispered, confused by his closeness. He caressed her cheek again and made her tilt her head back so he could see her face better.
“I’m going to demonstrate to you how much I want to take care of you.” He whispered back, brushing lightly his lips against his, feeling the sweet softness of her lips. He felt her breath hitching as she stared at him, immobilized. He kept looking at her as he brushed his lips again and again against hers, and he couldn’t help but smirk when he finally pressed his lips against hers, giving her just a long peck. He left her lips tense, forced into a kissing shape, so he pulled back, looking at her with lust, as his hand trailed down from her shoulder to her bum, he gently scooped her closer so she would be pressed against his side. As soon as she felt his hand there she gasped, slightly opening her mouth, so he immediately took the advantage and kissed her again, sucking her lower lip gently between his lips, so that she would be forced to keep her mouth open. He kissed her gently for a while, making sure that she would understand how to reciprocate his kiss, and as soon as she did, for Aemond was completely over.
He pushed himself against her, slipping his tongue in her mouth, savoring her taste, as he kept on leaning forward forcing her to arch her back. He growled as he moved his hand from her cheek to her hair, gripping the back of her head to keep her close, to be sure she would stay glued to him.
“Will you take care of me, kiddo?” He gasped between kisses. “Mh? Return the favor, take care of me.” He ordered as he just kept going back to her lips, completely addicted to her. She whimpered as every time he reconnected their lips he got harsher. He moved his hand that was resting on her bum to her thigh, squeezing it in his hand as he raised her leg and threw it over his lap, so that her thigh would bruch his cock every time she moved as they kissed.
He moaned in her mouth as his cock finally was getting something after having denied himself for so long.
She looked at him with her mouth slightly parted, her lips shining from both of their saliva, and swollen by their making out. She looked down at her leg over him and her face went completely red, so she immediately looked back at his face. He kept her leg secure on him with his hand, tightly wrapped on the back of her knee.
“Take care of me kiddo.” He groaned as he grinded slowly against her thigh.
“H–how…?” She mumbled, as she kept breathing heavily, this time he believed because of fear.  
Not of him, he hoped.
More like for the unknown.
He hoped she feared not being able to satisfy him, so he could teach her exactly how.
“Spit on your hand.” He ordered her, moving his hand from the back of her knee to her thigh, caressing her, trying to soothe her somehow.
He had no idea how, really. His head was a complete mess, the only thing he could think of was her, her skin, her lips, the spit she just let fall down on her hand.
She really did it. He quickly unfastened his belt and his pants, grabbing her wrist, guiding her hand inside his pants.
“Stroke it– Wrap your hand around it–” He couldn’t control himself anymore, he felt like a stupid teeneger cumming in his pants just because of the sight of some tits.
But his sweet girl, was fucking giving him a handjob.
Finally.
Finally, he could feel her, finally, he had her entering sexuality with him, and he could guide her into every experience.
Only with him, obviously.
He could shape her perfectly for him, create a natural match for him, and him alone.
She would be satisfied only with him, so she would always come back to him.
He’ll make sure to make her feel things that no one else is capable of.
He could feel, see the hesitation in her actions, her hand not squeezing his cock hard enough, her slow pumps, how she didn’t caress his tip.
He slipped his boxer lower, so he could cover her hand with his. She looked at him, widening her eyes, then she turned her head, red of embarrassment.
“Look at me.” He groaned as he made her squeeze her hand around him. He started moving her hand up and down on him faster, as he grabbed her chin with his free hand, turning her head towards him.
“Look at me kiddo.” His eyebrows arched, as he laid completely back on the couch, thrusting his hips up. “Fuck–” He mumbled, as he just kept making her go faster, squeezing harder.
He was utterly fucked.
He moaned again as he let his head fall back. 
He will never go back to being normal, now he knows.
He started breathing loudly, his breath heavy as he felt finally ready to cum.
He turned his head and forced himself to open his eye to look at her.
His pretty perfect girl.
He grabbed the hair on the back of her head and pushed her against him, kissing her deeply, as a mix of a groan and moan escaped his mouth, as he finally let go, his seed painting her soft hand and his, staining his pants also.
He broke the kiss and pressed their forehead together, as he slowly recomposed.
Two months and a half after the encounter.
If she betrayed him, he would kill whoever that boy was.
No, his girl could never…
Could she?
He deserved to know. He had to know.
He sighed and threw the cup of coffee in the sink, letting it break in pieces.
He was furious, distracted, and he could barely control himself.
He hated it, he hated to be so… human.
He went to grab his phone back, surprisingly, only the screen was broken, other than that, it seemed to work perfectly. 
He sighed and went upstairs, putting on some jeans and a black sweatshirt.
He took the day off, he felt like he needed to.
Not as much as he needed his girl.
She was leaving him with no choice, he had to find her.
More like, see her. He perfectly knew where to find her.
He got in his car and quickly drove to her school.
He parked outside, looking at the school. 
What was he thinking? She was at school, he couldn’t just get inside and find her. He looked at the hour, he just had to wait an hour to see her get outside school, and sit under the same tree she always goes to when it’s a good day outside.
But she wasn’t there.
She wasn’t at school.
He immediately started the engine, feeling his rage getting the better of him. She wasn’t at school, why?!
He drove like a madman towards her house. He wanted to stop at the hill before, there was a big chance that he could find her there, without presenting himself at her house’s door, for fuck’s sake.
He had no idea of what he was going to do, what he would have said to her foster mother if he didn’t find her at the hill, he knew nothing.
Nothing, other than he had to see her.
She had deprived him of his most sophisticated, precious drug, she left him alone, she left him to his old life, when he was not his old self anymore.
Everything seemed only less exciting, nothing felt important.
What he hated the most in his situation was his complete lackness of self control when it came to her, regarding his actions, his words, his feelings, everything.
He wanted her. He dreamed of her every night for the past two weeks, he heard her voice in his head narrating his own thoughts, he heard her advise him when he needed to, he searched for her form every night, even if she never touched his bed. Sometimes he felt the smell of her scent under his nose, and he immediately looked around, searching for her pretty gentle face. He could feel her hands soothe him with her hands on his shoulders when he was stressed.
He heard a loud scream and he immediately stopped the car, looking ahead of him with his eye completely widened.
She was standing with her bike on her side, her eyes widened in fear and shock, staring at him.
She was prettier than he remembered.
He quickly turned off the engine and got out of his car immediately.
“Aemond, what are you doing here?” She asked, still in shock.
“You avoided me.” He choked out. “You left me on read.” He wrapped his hand on the back of her neck as she looked away ashamed.
“No look at me!” He shouted, making her jump back, she looked at him, her eyes quickly filled with tears.
“You– You don’t get to leave me like that.” She growled as he gripped her harder, his free arm wrapping around her waist, as he leaned down to rest his forehead on her shoulder.
“I–I’m sorry I–” She sniffed. “I was so embarrassed and ashamed–” 
He raised his head and looked at her, wiping her tears away.
"Embarrassed? Why?!” Her excuse only made him move angry. “You were perfect kiddo. Nothing to be ashamed of. Nothing to be leaving me for.” He growled the last phrase.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry–” She cried out.
“Do you know how much you’ve hurt me?” He pulled her close to his face. She widened her eyes for a moment, then only more tears flew out.
“I–I never meant to, I swear…” She sniffled again. “I– I missed you…” She sobbed out.
Did she?
God, he was so happy to hear it.
“Yeah, you did? Mh?” His grips on her tightened as she nodded. He smirked for a moment, looking down at her beautiful face, now contorted in displeasure for what she did to him.
“It’s okay, kiddo.” He brushed her hair off her face, gently.
He was learning to be gentle, to not scare her off too much.
He obviously still struggled sometimes.
“It’s okay, you can make it up for this, okay?” He comforted her, as she nodded repeatedly.
“I will, I promise, I’m sorry.” She repeated. “I’m so, so sorry, Aem.” She wiped her tears with the back of her hand.
He grinned at her little nickname for him.
He loved it.
It was new for him to have such a cute nickname by a girl who wasn’t his own mother.
“Prove me you’re sorry, kiddo.” He looked down at her lips. 
She immediately blushed and hid her face on his chest, making him chuckle for a moment. In a sudden movement, she raised her head and lifted herself up on her tiptoes, giving him a little peck on his cheek.
He froze for a moment, surprised, but he smiled soon after.
He smiled, genuinely smiled.
He wrapped his arms around her and hugged her closer, as she quickly hid her face back on his chest.
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Tag: @zenka69 @blaustappen @julczimozart @diannnnsss @i66cilla @queenofthekeep @summerposie @tssf-imagines @vaylint @sweet-nothings-s @esposamultifandom @av989436751 @ladythornofrivia @xcinnamonmalfoyx @deliaseastar @kotadislikesthissite @nebulamorada @madelynwalt @shari-berri @seraphdayiwah @witchy-jadda @odeioemail @alphard-hydraes-blog @isntitdelicatevivi @famousrebeldaze @ssnapsaurus @paigeestrawfordd @mamawiggers1980 @aemondracarys
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puck-luck · 2 days
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good vibrations | trevor zegras
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warnings: masturbation, allusions to voyeurism and exhibitionism, sex while under the influence, dirty talk, pet names (duh), first time(s) (wait,,, TWO first times checked off the list?) pairing: trevor zegras x inexperienced!reader summary/request: "he finds out that she's never used a vibrator so he buys her one and maybe kinda helps her use it for the first time?? like he incorporates it into foreplay or something idk (i just feel like he'd really want to be there the first time she experiences that haha he just gets so excited about her experiencing all these different kinds of pleasure for the first time and he feels so lucky he's the one she's experiencing all her firsts with and that she trusts him enough to be her guide)", "he makes her squirt and she's never done that before so she's embarrassed but he thinks it's so hot" wc: 3000
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Trevor hadn’t planned for this when he brought the joint to your lips. He hadn’t known– you should have told him, to be fair, because you knew– that you get horny when you get high. If he had known, maybe he wouldn’t have pulled you onto his lap with his friends in the room. He didn’t realize that you’d be squirming in his lap from the get-go, your limbs a little sweaty and stuck together in the pocket of your joints. 
You were at the point of your high when you got a little self-conscious of your movements. You weren’t sure if you were being loud and drawing attention to yourself just by leaning over to grab your water bottle. You cuddled it close to your chest, curled up on Trevor’s lap. You would catch yourself holding your breath, then you’d let out a huge sigh, and the cycle would continue as soon as you stopped paying attention to your breath. You truly held your breath when Trevor’s hand found a place on your knee, stroking over your skin gently. 
It felt a bit lucky that you were at Trevor’s apartment. Just down the hall was Trevor’s bed, a big mattress with fresh sheets after his most recent trip. You felt wet already, just knowing that you were on Trevor’s lap and you’d be sleeping in that bed with him later in the night.
You bring your hand up to Trevor’s face, thumbing over his jaw. 
He looks down at you, a twinkle in his eye and a smile on his lips. “Hi, baby,” Trevor greets. He shifts your body in his arms to hold you more tightly.
“So pretty, Trev,” you say, marveling over his features. Everything looks hyper-focused, from the faded freckles on his cheeks to the peach fuzz on his cheeks and the slightly darker hair above his lip. “Wish you could touch me.”
Trevor’s eyes grow wide and he chokes on his breath, coughing to cover it up. “Really?” He asks, his voice low and scratchy. “Here?”
You shake your head, giggling quietly. You press your hand to your lips to stifle the laughter. “Not here. In your room.”
Trevor bites his lip, eyes scanning your face. He leans down and takes a sip from your water bottle, his gaze looking down your body into your cleavage as he does so. “I have a present for you,” Trevor says. “Do you want it?”
Your eyes light up. You nod, feeling dizzy with the movement. “What is it?”
Trevor lifts you from his lap and stands, throwing you over his shoulder. You laugh out loud and Trevor excuses the two of you from the room, telling his friends to lock the doors behind them if they leave. 
Trevor tosses you onto the bed and you bounce a little before settling on your back, head propped up with a pillow. Trevor’s back is to you as he digs through his closet, mumbling to himself. He finds whatever it is that he’s looking for and turns around, to face you, with a slender little package between his fingers. 
“What is it?” You ask again. 
“It’s for my roadies,” Trevor supplies, tossing you the package. 
You sit up to catch it, turning the box over in your hand. You gasp. It’s a vibrator. You look up and see Trevor sitting in the chair across from the bed. He spreads his legs and crosses his arms over his chest. 
“Can I watch you?” Trevor asks. 
“I want you to touch me,” You reply.
“I will,” Trevor assures you. A smile spreads over his face, revealing his teeth. “After I watch you come.”
“Trevor.”
“I want to see you, baby,” Trevor coos convincingly. “I want to see what I’m missing out on while I’m away.”
With shaking hands, you unbox the vibrator. It’s silicone, hot pink, and it’s got two parts– a smaller part that you assume rests on your clit, and a main part that you’re… supposed to pretend is Trevor’s dick? You look up at him again. 
“I thought that color would look so good with your skin tone,” Trevor says, his eyes focused on the vibrator in your hands. “I was right.”
You press the button at the top of the vibrator and it springs to life, on a slow but consistent level of buzzing. You feel the machine move in your hand, traveling up your arm. Again, you press it. And again. You go through all of the levels– all nine– before returning to the first.
“I’ve never used a vibrator before, Trev,” you say. 
“It’s just like when you touch yourself,” he replies. “You can’t do it wrong, baby.”
Still high, you ghost a hand over the front of your shorts and straighten at the contact. You’re not even holding the vibrator with that hand, but you jump regardless. 
“So pretty for me,” Trevor continues. “You’re gonna put on such a beautiful show, aren’t you?”
You moan at the way he bites his lip, his eyes half-lidded and hazy. 
“It’ll feel so good, Y/N. Those vibrations against your clit might even feel better than my tongue.”
“Never,” you whine, denying his claim. Nothing could be better than his tongue– his strong, knowing tongue. All you have is an unsure hand and a buzzing toy.
“Try it,” Trevor says, nodding along with his words, trying to encourage you. “You can do it. Talk me through it, baby. Tell me what you’re thinking about while you fuck yourself with your new toy.”
“Trevor,” you cry, throwing your head back with a pout. The humiliation is burning your skin, turning red and welted. You lay back on the pillows, hiding from your boyfriend.
“Do you need me to get you started?” Trevor asks. “I’ll tell you what I’m thinking.”
You hum, needing him.
“When you say my name like that, it reminds me of when I make you come,” Trevor tells you. “How you just can’t help yourself and you start screaming my name.”
Your jaw drops, Trevor’s boldness never failing to surprise you. 
“Take your pants off,” Trevor commands.
You shuck the offending articles of clothing off, throwing them at Trevor. It’s your one move, the one bratty, teasing moment that you’ll allow yourself. You may not know much when it comes to sex, but you know it bothers Trevor when your throw lands and blocks his brief vision. You know it’s part of the power thing he has going on.
Trevor snatches the clothing out of the air and tosses the bundle to the side. “Touch yourself.”
You wield the vibrator with a loose wrist, gauging the weight of it. You press the tip of it to your slit, then pull back. “Fuck,” you whisper to yourself. You double check it, making sure the toy is on the lowest setting. It was. “That’s the lowest setting?” You ask aloud. 
Trevor chuckles from his spot in the chair. “You’ll get used to it. Put it on your clit, baby.”
You obey, the wider head of the vibrator against your clit but not fully on top of it. Your hips jump, trying to get away from the vibrations. You heave out a breath, your vision feeling heavy and blue at the edges. The vibrations against your clit feel overwhelming, especially in this state. It’s tingly, the same feeling you imagine you would feel if you were frolicking through a field of tall grass– with freshly shaven legs.
Your eyes drift closed as you push the vibrator against your clit again, harder this time. You sigh, melting into the pillows beneath you.
“How does it feel?” Trevor asks softly, not wanting to break you out of the zone you found yourself in.
“Weird,” you reply. “It’s… I’ve never felt anything like it.”
“Is it good?”
“Not as good as you.”
Trevor groans, pushing the heel of his hand over the bulge in his sweatpants. “Tell me what you’re thinking about. Pretend I’m not here.”
“I’m thinking about you watching me,” you say. “That’s all I can think about right now.” You’re borderline complaining, angry that Trevor is so close but refuses to touch you. “And now I’m thinking that you didn’t even kick your friends out, that they could be listening to us. That’s not sexy.”
“Okay,” Trevor says. You hear him stand and cross to the door, opening it and closing it behind him. Muffled, through the wood, you hear him shout: “Get the fuck out! I’m trying to fuck my girl!”
“Trevor!” You admonish, blushing further. A little blossom of pride blooms in your chest at his protective tone. You reach down and spread your folds, rubbing the vibrator up and down your slit. 
When Trevor reenters the bedroom, he winks and resumes his position in the chair across from the bed.
“Thinking about your fingers,” you announce, pressing the tip of the vibrator to your hole, but not entering it. “So talented, Z.”
Trevor flushes, taken aback. You can’t see him, but it touches him that you say he’s talented before you say that he’s good looking. 
“Z, when…” You gasp. “When you made me ride your fingers on the boat, under the blanket.”
You arch your back, grinding against the vibrator. 
“When you were driving with one hand and I was sitting on your lap and you were fingering me with the other…”
You start to push the head of the vibrator into your pussy, just the tip, stretching you out.
“And all the boys were there, but they didn’t know. I never thought I’d be into that, but with you? You drive me crazy, Trev. You make me do all these things that I never thought I would, or that I never thought I wanted to.”
“Look at me,” Trevor says.
You open your eyes, gasping at the sight of him. He’s stripped himself of his shirt and pulled himself out of his pants, stroking his dick lazily at the sight of you. You zero in on his cock, sliding the vibrator further into you. The small prong of the vibrator presses against your clit and you whine. 
“Thinking about your cock,” you whimper. “How good it’ll feel when I finally take it. How good it’ll be for you, such a good reward after all your patience.”
Trevor’s mouth drops open and his head rolls back, exposing the long column of his neck to you. You bite your lip as his tattooed arm flexes with each pump of his hand. 
“How big you are,” you say, voice stronger than it has any right being. You pull the vibrator out, then push it back in. Warmth spreads over your body, starting at your core and reaching the tips of your ears. The pace you set for yourself is brutally teasing, with barely a brush over your g-spot at how slow you’re going. “It’s so warm, Trevor,” you describe. “I feel like I’m in a warm bath.”
“Imagine how you’d feel with something real inside you,” Trevor tells you. He fists his cock and you watch as precum blurts out of his tip. You clench down on the toy inside you, thinking about how it would feel as Trevor’s come leaks inside of you. 
You think about how his come might actually light a fire in you, cause you to glow.
“I’m so glad it’s you, Trevor,” you sigh, pulling the vibrator out and resting its length against your clit. Your hole stays open, stretched, and winks at him each time you pull yourself closer and closer to orgasm. You press the button on the vibrator by accident and it speeds up. Your legs lift off the bed and your toes curl, the satisfaction of the vibrations against your most sensitive spot creating a feeling so pleasurable that you could burst.
Your voice gets caught in your throat and you can’t help but close your eyes, tipping your head back and arching up into the contact. You might even let out a shriek when you start to come, but you’re so far away and lost in the pleasure, the idea of Trevor coming inside of you, that you don’t notice.
Trevor’s hands are on you before you even finish coming, two of his fingers stuffed inside your pussy and his cock rutting helplessly against your hip. The vibrator still presses against your clit, making you oversensitive and jumpy, but you can’t take it away. It’s too good, too much.
“Can’t wait to get my cock in you, baby,” Trevor all but growls. “You look so beautiful under me, don’t you? My good girl, my brave girl, fucking herself in front of me and telling me exactly what she’s thinking. Who knew you were such a slut for me, huh? First thing you think about when getting off is me finger-fucking you on the boat? Like I’m doing now? A shame you made me kick my friends out, if that’s the kind of thing you think about.”
“It’s different,” you squeal, abs clenching. Your pussy has gone almost starkly cold, but you can feel the orgasm building again– or maybe it’s the same one, and Trevor just prolonged it. You could still be coming. You don’t know.
“Mmm, yeah, that was in public,” Trevor muses. “You don’t want anyone to hear you in the safety of your own home.”
“Your home,” you correct, voice choked.
“Baby, you spend just as much time in this bed as I do.” Trevor curls his fingers, rubbing intensely over that one spot inside of you. He draws his fingers out and aims, the pads of his fingers pushing into you incessantly. 
The tilted smile as he says “baby” is what sends you over the edge. His voice is so soft, so caring, so Trevor that you can’t help but let your vision go white. Your legs are shaking and the vibrator falls away from your clit, but Trevor catches it and repositions it as you come. 
He’s shaking too, and quiet, vibrating with nervous energy when you come to. You can tell he’s got something to say, that he’s trying not to strip his cock and come all over you, and then you notice how wet the bed is beneath you.
“Did I…”
“You squirted,” Trevor moans out, his hand tight around the base of his cock. “Fuck, Y/N, that was so hot.”
“We’ll have to wash your sheets,” you deflect, your cheeks burning. A little embarrassment is fine, welcome even, but you’re falling apart. You came so hard that you released all over Trevor’s nice, new sheets. With a look at his tattooed arm, you can see that you released all over him as well.
“Don’t care,” Trevor says. He brings his hand up, the one covered in your juices, and tastes you. He moans again, licking up the wetness like a man starved. His hand starts to move over his cock again. “That was the best thing I’ve ever seen.” His eyes lock with yours. “I want to see you do it again.”
“I can’t,” you reply nervously. 
“We’ll try until you can,” Trevor replies. “Fuck, if I don’t make you squirt on my cock, I’m a lunatic. That was sexy, baby.”
Your eyes drift down to his hand, his hard cock still bobbing away from his stomach. “How sexy?”
“I almost nutted just from grinding against you, that’s how sexy.”
You blush again, this time with a smile. “You know what I’m thinking about now?”
“What?” Trevor asks, his hips stuttering as he tries to keep himself under control.
You bite your lip, unsure. It’s so dirty, is the thing. It would make Trevor give up control, it would make you the one in charge, and while you don’t really want that, the picture in your head is just too pretty.
“Say it,” Trevor encourages.
“I’m thinking about how sexy it would be if you humped my cum stain until you came,” you say, the words rushing out of your mouth like a wave.
Trevor pauses in shock for only a moment and you think that he might laugh, he might call you a freak, but he doesn’t. He scrambles into position, lays between your legs with his head on your chest, and sucks one of your nipples into his mouth as he grinds down on the bedsheets. Your hands immediately fly to his hair and you gasp at Trevor’s each tingling suck.
He moans into your skin, his eyes falling closed as his hips drill into the bed. You can’t look away– this, here, is what he’d look like if he was fucking into you. It’s like you get to see it for the first time without experiencing it– like a test run. 
The wide expanse of his back ripples with each thrust, his skin tan and clear and beautiful. You run a hand over his shoulders, the other still playing with his hair. The dimples at the end of Trevor’s spine disappear and reappear on a constant loop.
He shivers when he finally comes, one of his hands playing with your clit just to touch it, the other grasping your thigh. 
You stay in that position, both of you breathing heavily, until Trevor makes his way up so that he’s level with your face. He drops a kiss on your nose, then on your mouth.
“That was so sexy,” he breathes out, kissing you again. “Love that you feel comfortable telling me what to do, baby.”
You let out a surprised laugh at that, relief washing over you. It suddenly hits you, just how tired you are and how sweaty from your antics. The vibrator is still going, buzzing its way to the corner of the bed and Trevor saves it before it falls off.
“Quick shower?” He asks. “Then bed?”
You can only hum in reply, and Trevor picks you up to take you to the joined bathroom, a gesture that you’ll never tire of.
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note: HIIIIII i got carried away! happy monday! the streak continues! i want to update y'all on the timeline of this fic: so this is after everything else i've written and after a good amount of time has passed in their relationship, so they're SOON TO FUCK! assume that everything that happens in this story is consensual and has been discussed beforehand, except for the fact that reader gets horny when she's high. I think it's really funny that Trevor didn't know that. one thing about me? i loooooove a sexy high encounter. they're just so fun. more notes: trevor x small girl is coming! let me know if you want me to drop teasers along the way! we're about 5,500 words in now (and 87 more days to write, out of 90). also, let me know your takes on small towns because i want this to be sooo eclectic and silly and fun for us all. MORE notes: not sure what i'm going to write this week. i usually like to take a little time between inexperienced!reader blurbs, but who knows. maybe more requests. maybe an original. maybe a daddy kink...
@captainlexaproluvr @elliehaleymarsh enjoyyyy my lovelies
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Carlos Sainz X Needy Fem Reader
cw... Not edited, fingering, dominant carlos, slight dom reader at the start, slightly jealous reader, fucking, unprotected sex, kissing, moaning, cumshot on stomach, etc...
request...Hey girlie, could you write smth smutty for Carlos? I’m feral for that man 🥵 Like I saw the pics of him in the club in Monaco last night and the unbuttoned t-shirt?!?!? Maybe just smth along the lines of the reader being feral for her man and just being super needy and he gives it to her good? Please and thank you 🫶🫶
notepad... So I have around 22 request so I WILL BE BUSY. Thank you all who have requested. My goal is two a day but I might get them all done by the end of June. But I am pretty inspired so who knows.
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Your hands traveled to his luscious hair, you moaning into the kiss. You two were standing so close to his bed, your hands placed on his chest, pushing him back and crawling onto his lap. You began to unbutton his shirt. You needed him; you needed all his clothing to be off. It took all your willpower not to fuck him on the car ride to the hotel room. 
“Mi amor, me quieres mala.” He moaned while your lips pressed against his bare skin, which you slowly revealed by taking his shirt off. He was nothing but handsome at the club. Everyone was drinking, touching him, and cheering for him and his partner due to the Monaco Grand Prix. You giggled, kissing his chest and going up to his neck, leaving love bites. 
“Mhm, I need you.” You whimpered out close to his ear; no matter what you did, you always got him hard. It was mainly because he loved you and your body more than anything in the world. But if anything, he loved the fact that you needed him badly. He smirked the moment he heard those words leave your mouth. His arms went up to your waist, flipping you over to be under him. 
“Then I will grant; just sit there and look pretty.” He was so close to you, his smirk showing a bit of his teeth. He was nothing but intoxicating to you and everyone. You knew how much people desired him, and you had him. You caught his attention, and now you could have him for the rest of your life. 
He raised your one leg up, your dress riding up; he couldn’t help but admire your beauty. He leaned to you, his soft plump lips pressed against him. You moaned into the kiss, wrapping your arms around his neck even if he had your one leg up. You suddenly gasped into the kiss. His fingers are entering your wet pussy. You arched your back in shock at how amazing it felt. 
“Carlito!” You moaned, head back, saliva attached to his lips and to yours. You felt his fingers curl inside you, going in and out, the lewd sound of your pussy echoing throughout the hotel room. He knew how needy you were, and he was going to deliver. “Don’t stop!”
He didn’t, opting to shove another one of his fingers into your soaking hole. He loved how your pussy would squelch while he fingered you. It was only to get you even needier before he shoved his cock into you. You were smiling, trying to push away from the amazing sensation, which slowly got more and more overwhelming. He still had your leg up on his shoulder, his other hand on your cheek, caressing it, hearing your moans leave your lips. 
“Tell me you want my cock; tell me amor.” He wanted you to beg; how else would he know how desperate you are for him and how needy you are for his cock? But all he got in return were loud moans. He shook his head and slowly took his fingers out of your sopping wet cunt. 
"No, no, no, I need you. I need your cock, please.” He managed to pull it out of you, and he smirked. He knew how to get what he wanted from his needy little plaything. He shoved his fingers back into you, quickly going in and out covered in your juices. His other hand slowly took his pants off and boxers off. His cock felt the cool air of the room, and a muffled moan could be heard from him. 
He removed his fingers from your hole once more and used your juices on his hands to pump his cock a few times. He loved the way you smelled and the way your cunt leaked each time you got aroused by him. He grabbed both your legs and pulled you towards him, and there you felt his cock enter you rather quickly. 
“Ah~” He felt your cunt clench down on him, and he groaned. It was clear from entering you that you were cumming. He did not care; he needed his fill of you. He began to go at a rather quick pace. You were left moaning about how overstimulated it was. “Too much, Carlito.” 
“You can take it, mi amor.” You nodded, hearing his groans. You were happy he wanted you as badly as you wanted him. He could feel himself reaching the end. His cock went in and out while he held your arms down and your legs on his shoulders. No matter how much you squirmed, he wasn’t going to stop fucking your pussy. 
There, he slowed down his pace, making his thrust deeper, causing your body to gently bounce. You were a moaning mess, no longer able to speak. You were extremely overstimulated from cumming right when he entered you. His thrust was deep, and with his last thrust, he pulled out, cumming onto your stomach. He sighed, looking at how exhausted you were. He leaned down and took your lips into a kiss. 
“You asked for it, my love.” 
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mountedeverest · 1 day
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7x10 Coda | BuckTommy date + Bobby call | T
Starts cute and then I rip your heart out 🙃😘 sorryyyyy
NP tags 💖 @tizniz @hippolotamus
“Not to be a U-Haul lesbian but if you keep cooking like that every time, I’m gonna have to ask you to move in.” Tommy said, bringing the glass of wine to his lips once more.
Buck almost choked on his own wine as he ducked his head and laughed nervously. “Don’t tempt me ‘cause I’ll say yes.”
Buck lifted his eyes to reach Tommy’s, half hopeful in spite of him. They both knew it would be too soon, but Buck’s emotional baggage and fear of abandonment still rang a clear ‘what if’ in his head. Though they may have been joking, Evan’s eyes betrayed him, as if to say ‘I’m serious. If you ask me now, I’ll say yes.’
“Interesting.” Tommy answered, gaze lingering. His eyes narrowed, the corners of his mouth curled upwards slowly, tightly from atop his wine glass, a shield between them. His eyes said something as well, ‘Not now, but soon.’
The air now hung heavy, promise being held back by the fear of spooking the other, overshadowed by immense desire and suffocating devotion. Buck was so giddy he could burst.
“Be-besides, many lasagnas were sacrificed for this skill. The cooking, I mean.”
“Aaah so that was the smell here the other night.” Tommy laughed. His nose scrunched up and Buck could melt. Just like that, the tension was gone. Buck squirmed in his seat all the same, like his skin was too tight, except he loved it. With Tommy, Buck felt exposed in the best way, like every nerve was a string on an instrument, every touch a new note in a new melody. It made him feel so alive.
They ate, and they talked, kicked their feet under the table. Fingers lingered upon fingers, pinkies touching in a whisper of a touch only to momentarily satisfy the itch of being apart. Their chairs pulled closer as they leaned in further in their conversation, and their wine glasses emptied and filled up, and emptied and filled up. Every moment they inched closer without noticing, knuckles now brushing against the side of a thigh, or fingers idly tracing up a forearm.
Soon, they were so close they could feel each other’s air. Buck broke first, a small satisfied groan escaping him when he finally closed the distance between Tommy and him.
It wasn’t long before Tommy pulled Buck into his lap, the chair wincing slightly in protest. Hands soon found purchase everywhere they could: hair, neck, shoulder blade, ass cheek. Dirty dinner plates and near empty wine glasses were now abandoned for desert. Perfectly sweet and with just enough bite, Tommy tasted exquisite.
Things heated up fast, becoming sloppy and needy and everything Buck needed to be right now. He felt the burning shape of Tommy’s massive hands under his shirt, dipping into the back of his pants, gripping at hard flesh. Every slight rock of their bodies together punched little gasps out of Buck, like he’d forgotten how to breathe properly.
“I can’t fuck you in this chair.” Tommy grunted between two biting kisses, sounding lost. His eyes were swimming in Buck’s, pupils blown wide.
“Yeah, yeah, let’s go up to my bed.” Buck dove in for another deep kiss, tongue rolling and swirling against Tommy’s own, and then another, and another. They were unable to tear away from each other, even as they made their way to the stairs and up the loft. They’d reached the top when Buck’s phone started to ring from where he’d left it on the kitchen island.
They let it ring until it stopped, hands going to buttons and belts. Then, Tommy’s phone started ringing, which gave them pause for the first time that night.
“Whoever’s trying to reach you seems adamant. I better answer.”
Reluctantly, Buck let Tommy trot back down the stairs to pick up his offending phone.
“Go for Kinard.”
Buck made his way down the stairs and plastered himself softly behind Tommy, hugging him loosely as his fingers toyed with the hem of Tommy’s shirt.
“Okay. Yeah. Which one?” Tommy placed his free hand on top of Buck’s, soothing and stopping him at the same time. “Okay. We’re on our way.”
Buck froze then. Something was wrong. Tommy sighed and hung his head. From the back, Buck couldn’t see his expression, but he felt the tensing in his back, like hackles raising.
“W-what’s wrong?”
“That was Hen. Bobby… something happened, he and Athena are in the hospital. She’s fine but Bobby, it’s… it’s not good.”
If Buck were made of glass, there would be a very apparent crack going through him head to toe right about now. Gears started turning in his head, but with absolutely no coordination. Usually in a crisis, he could tell the order of things, which questions to ask and when. Now, he felt like a mess of Christmas lights, unable to see the beginning or the end of the cable for the tangle in between.
“Hey, hey hey stay with me Evan, don’t go there yet.” Tommy took hold of Buck’s shoulder, searching for his gaze in eyes that now stared at nothing. “I’m taking you to the hospital, I’m driving. I’ll grab you a coat, just put your shoes on I’ll take care of the rest.”
“Tommy?”
Tommy stopped, looked back eyes wide at his boyfriend. Buck looked so small, his eyes rimmed red and threatening to spill with tears.
“Bobby’s not just my captain, y’know?” Buck’s voice sounded strangled, like wrestled from deep within. “He’s pretty much my dad, I-I can’t lose him.” He looked so scared.
Tommy’s eyes softened and filled with sadness as he grabbed Buck into a big hug, squeezing him tight and bringing Buck’s face into his chest.
“You won’t, baby. You won’t.” Tommy murmured softly as he held Buck, promising that also to himself, hoping that luck once again favoured them tonight and that Bobby would be okay, that Buck would be okay.
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everybodys type (pt. 2)
yall this is not edited all the way because i have shit going on but bookie is going through it so yuh
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bf!matt x black!reader
warnings: dom!matt, oral (m and f receiving), p in v, overstimulation
---------------------------------------------------------
as she sat in the passenger seat y/n bobbed her head to the music playing on aux. her hand was placed on top of matts, which was wrapped tightly around her upper thigh.
never had she ever wanted to wear a skirt, but in this moment, wearing leather pants, she wish she'd been a skirt girly.
but she wasnt. so she settled for the tantalizing stroke of her thigh and returned it with a rub up his forearm.
then her song started playing.
as jaqueese's voice filled the car, she tried her hardest to wait until they got home because she knew that matt was a very attentive driver. but as soon as she heard,
giving you the best you ever had, babe, make me feel like you aint never had it.
she folded.
and when i say folded i mean literally.
she unbuckled her seatbelt, turned to face her man and folded over the center console in order to have the access she needed.
"y/n baby what are you doing..." matt asked, confused as to why she was so weirdly positioned.
she ignored him and began to kiss his neck. sucking on his pale skin, making her way to his jaw, grabbing his chin and turning him to leave a peck on his lips, then allowing him to return his focus to the empty road.
"bab-" matt was cut off by y/n guiding her hand down his chest, past his abdomen, finally reaching his lap.
she reached in his sweats and began to stroke him in the darkness.
"shit" matt jolted at the contact "y/n im so fucking serious. stop. im driving, we're gonna crash." but his words went in one ear and out the other.
she continued to stroke him, teasing her index finger over his tip. "baby just try to focus."
at this point matt knew she wasnt letting up. so he pulled into a rest stop and went all the way to back, where no other cars were, and allowed her to do her thing.
he was going to let her have her fun, because he knew when he had his, it would be worth the frustration he was feeling in that moment.
"go ahead baby. 'do your big one' as you say." he said, tugging his sweats past his knees and freeing his dick of his boxers.
she smiled and placed a kiss to his lips before leaning down and getting to work.
she wrapped her hand around his length at the base and began stroking him again, getting him fully hard. matt was enjoying the moment with his hands behind his head, tugging softly at his curls.
"stop playing and suck it." he grunted. "thats what you wanted right? my dick in your mouth?"
he hissed as he felt her take him in her mouth. his head fell back against the seat as she pulled up and spit, immediately going back down, with hollowed cheeks.
matt, being the supportive boyfriend he was continued to praise y/n, rubbing her back and keeping her hair out of her face, which sent flutters to her pussy.
y/n found a rhythm, bobbing her heard a even pace, making sure matt felt every second of it, which drove him crazy, but he was never a head pusher.
he was more of a head puller.
he grabbed the back of her neck and pulled her off him. "you done?" he asked, holding eye contact with his girlfriend who's lips were wet with spit.
she nodded meekly, closing her eyes. trying to get her breathing back to normal.
"use your words my love." he gripped her jaw, causing her to open her eyes and say, "yes, sir."
at that, he pulled her into a rough kiss, a contrast of tongue and teeth. he swallowed the moan that slipped out of her at the intensity of the situation.
"get in the back and strip." he told her as he released his hold on her.
as she followed his instructions, he pulled his boxers and sweats back up and pulled out his phone, playing his song.
brents voice surrounds him as he gets his head in the space it needed to be in for what had planned for his woman.
angel of the night i drown between your thighs im still here, aint no excuse, baby
getting out of the drivers seat and opening the back door on the drivers side, he was pleased to see that y/n had did what he said. she was bare, in nothing but her red panties, sitting up against the door, her closed legs pointing to him.
"open your legs."
she followed his directions, bending her legs, and opening them. normally she'd put up more of a fight, but matt seemed so... calm. so serious. like he wasn't even mad any more.
but y/n knew that wasn't the case. matt was a very serious driver. he did everything in his power to not put people in danger and she contradicted that tonight. so she knew whatever he was cooking in his head was gonna be really good for him and really bad for her.
"you always have had a patience problem sweetheart." he started, getting up on his knees and planting a kiss on her lips. "never willing to wait for the things you want." he kissed down her neck, focusing on that spot behind her ear that sent shivers down her spine. "sometimes it admirable." he continued kissing her neck, moving to the other side. "others its fucking annoying." he bit down on the hickey he just left.
"fuck" y/n hissed.
matt began kissing down her body, licking the valley between her breasts. "i think we need to do some character building." he kissed her left nipple. "what do you think?" the right one now. he looked up at her and saw her eyes were trained on him in the dark car.
he bit down on where he'd just kissed, "i asked you a question."
"yes" she sighed. "yes we can do whatever you want baby."
with that, he traveled the distance down to her pussy, which was covered in her ruined red silk panties. wrapping his arms around her plush thighs, gripped them and planted a trail of open-mouthed kissed to her core.
he licked a stripe along his girlfriends panties, earning a groan from her.
moving her panties to the side, he repeated his previous action on her bare slick folds before glaring up at y/n and saying " cum when you need to but i swear to god, if i hear you, the panties are going in your mouth." before placing an open-mouth kiss on her clit.
she bit her inner cheek, in order to prevent any sound from escaping but her hips buck, only to be slammed back down by his strong hand so he could continue the attack on her senses.
he kissed her core again, closing his eyes and diving in, as if he was terminally ill and her pussy was the only cure. sucking her clit, he buried two fingers into her, automatically using the speed of lightening mcqueen himself.
"oh my fuck.." y/n moaned out, completely forgetting about matts previous instructions. she was quickly reminded of them though, when he pulled his mouth off her, continuing the thrusting of his fingers.
"what the fuck did i just say?" he asked, curling his fingers into the spongy part of her and stuffing her underwear into her mouth. he went back to her pussy, sucking on her clit while using his tongue to trace patterns on the bud.
y/n was going insane. her eyes were screwed shut and her hands found refuge in his brunette locks. she felt that knot unravelling in her stomach.
just when she was about to cum, everything stopped. his fingers pulled out of her, his mouth was now in her line of sight as he stared down at her with a wicked smile on his face.
removing her panties from her mouth y/n asked, "w-what are you doing?"
"character building."
"wha-" y/n was cut off by matt thrusting into her at full force, knocking the air out of her lungs.
she felt nothing but pure bliss. matt was hitting every spot. every spot that drove her insane. every spot that nipped at her soul.
"you." stroke. "dont." stroke. "listen." matt grunted in her ear raising her leg so her thigh pushed her chest.
"matt im gonna-"
"don't you fucking dare." he demanded, grabbing her chin that had rolled to the side. he bore deep into her coffee-black eyes. "you're gonna hold it. because you're gonna learn patience. right baby?"
she responded with babble and breathless pants.
he gripped her chin tighter. "words, my love."
"please! fuck- please matt! i need it!"
"need what?"
"i n-need to cum. please baby i'll do anything."
"anything?"
"yes! fuck!" it was beginning to be too much for y/n. her vision was dotting and her fingers we're losing feeling. but every part of her body was set of fire when she felts matts warm mouth on her pussy.
"holy shit..." her eyes rolled to the back of her head and her body tightened.
"cum, y/n." matt said, plunging two fingers into her core.
with that simple command she let go.
y/n began to shake and pray to whatever god there was, thanking them for the gift that was matthew sturniolo.
matthew sturniolo who rode y/n through her high, and continued to give her multiple highs eventually bringing her to literal tears until all that was left of his beautiful, strong girlfriend was a twitching, drooling, babbling mess.
-
holding her brown legs in his inked arms, he rubbed her feet and asked "what did we learn?"
"patience." y/n hummed.
"good girl."
"i didnt know good girls were your type."
"oh baby..." matt kissed her pinky toe. "you're everybodys type."
niyah speaks💗 for my lilly bae
taglist: @mattslolita @summerssover @jnkvivi @sturnsslut
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winterrrnight · 2 days
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midsommar with bsf!Rafe and reader who at a certain point sneak out and start reminiscing how they would always do the same when their were little.
I'm in love with the way you write them, I'm truly in awe at the level of intimacy you can create with those two. expect so many more asks from me because I'm hooked and ilyyy
since we’ve now established this is the sweet sweet🦉anon, I really love this req (and all the other ones you sent) so so much 💘🥹✨ I loved writing this sooo much and I hope you like it tooooo xx thank you so so much for your sweet words I love you from the bottom of my heart 🥹
bsf!rafe who sneaks out of midsummer with you for some alone time… <3 listen to sexy to someone by clairo, cause, well, it’s clairo!!!! <3 cw: suggestive content (as always, no smut!), mentions of skinny dipping, weed consumption, references to canon events from the midsummer episode in S1 <3 for @ladyinbl00d who today absolutely made my day with her beautiful words and who was also honored with the sneak peek to this 🤭 i love u davi you’re my whole world 🤍
part of this little universe <3
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it’s that time of the year again; peak hotness accompanies the sixth month of the year, as everyone dress up and come together for the awaited holiday: midsummer.
you are accompanying rafe; as you always do for this holiday, your arm looped into his as you both walk out along with the rest of the camerons. both of you are adorned in matching shades of baby blue, and you have a little flower crown fixed on the top of your head. rafe passes you a small smile as he leads you along with his family, everyone around you all clapping and cheering for the most powerful family on the island.
the celebrations continue to happen around you, and in between you and rafe get separated; him going with his friends for some ‘business’ (you caught the air that he got JJ kicked out), and you with your friends just simply talking and chatting, sipping away on your mocktail.
amidst your conversation with your friends, you feel an all too familiar hand brush your side, slowly trailing under the slit of your dress to gently graze your bare thigh. you feel him breathing down on your neck, and for a second, just for a second, you feel yourself completely lifted away from the conversation with your friends – but you quickly ground yourself back.
“hey,” he says softly into your ear. the conversation between your friends doesn’t essentially stop; this isn’t a rare sight for them.
“hey,” you murmur, rafe’s arms now wrapping firmly around your waist from behind, his chin resting on the crook of your neck.
“come with me,” he says softly, pressing the most subtle kiss behind your ear. his tone isn’t a request and it’s also not a command; but you know there is absolutely no room for argument. you give him a nod of your head and excuse yourself from your friends and follow him out, him making sure no one, especially his dad catch you both leaving.
he leads you to the nearby beach which is almost completely empty as everyone is gathered for midsummer, where you both sit down next to each other on the sand, the waves lapping up till your feet under the darkness of the night sky.
a breeze blows past you two as you both sit silently next to each other on the beach, the sound of the waves filling your ears. you hear the flick of a lighter and turn your head to rafe to see him lighting up a weed joint, watching the momentary golden glow. he hands you the joint after taking a hit himself, and you take a deep drag, blowing out a plume of smoke after that.
“I fuckin’ hate midsummers,” rafe mutters, as you pass him the joint and he takes a hit. “all that attention to my dad, everyone is always asking me when i’m going to start at the company… same bullshit each time. I’m so sick of it.” he takes another hit of the joint, letting out a cloud of smoke before turning his attention to you. “but this…” he says, his voice now starting to take on a softer tone as his fingers curl around yours, “this is the only good thing each time.”
you smile softly at him, squeezing his hand back as he hands you the joint back and you take a hit. he watches you intently; watches how your lips wrap around the end of the joint, how you take a deep drag, and how you let the smoke roll off your tongue releasing it into the air. he takes your intertwined hand and presses a soft kiss to the back of your knuckles.
“thank you for coming with me, seriously,” he murmurs, pressing another kiss to the back of your hand before letting it go.
“of course,” you smile, handing him the joint back. “there’s nothing you have to thank me for,”
rafe acknowledges your smile with one of his own before hitting the joint. a beat of silence passes over you two before rafe speaks up again.
“I love how we do this each time,” he says with a smile, the joint dangling in between his lips, “this sneaking away from everyone. right now, my dad must be giving some lame ass speech using words like ‘power’ and ‘integrity’, and will smother all his love on ms. sarah there, and everyone would practically be eating out of his hand.” he snorts, shaking his head. “it’s nice to get away from that suffocating place to get a breather. you’re the only one who understands.”
you scoot closer to him and rest your head on his shoulder, and his hand comes to rest on your thigh right under the slit, where he gently traces small circles against your flesh, his touch almost featherlight.
“you remember when we sneaked out from the celebration the first time?” you start. “we were, what, 8? and your dad was so desperate to make you meet all his business associates but your little antisocial ass was just not having it,”
he lets out a chuckle at your words, nodding. he pulls the joint from his lips and slots it in between yours. “I had more than enough of business talk that night. and you were the only one who caught the look of uncomfort on my face. you helped me sneak out from there and we came right to this beach, and we shared a pack of sour patch kids.”
you laugh softly at the memory, letting out some smoke before holding the joint between your fingers. “yeah,” you say. “and it just became a tradition over the years. we used to share candy, and now we’re sharing a weed joint. we really leveled up our game huh?”
rafe chuckles with you, both of your laughters mixing together in a symphony just like they always have all these years. “we certainly did,” he says. “I’m proud of us you know?” he teases, his fingers continuing to trace circles on your thigh.
“I am too,” you grin, taking a hit of the joint again.
“but my favorite one was when we were 18,” he says. “when we went skinny dipping in the water,”
you laugh at that, nodding. “that was… that was really something huh?” you murmur, getting comfortable against his shoulder.
“mhm,” he hums softly, looking at your head resting on his shoulder, and leaning down to kiss your temple softly. “it was really good,” he murmurs.
you look up at him, your eyes flicking down to his lips for just a second before going back up to his eyes. “you know…” you start speaking, and you can feel the subtle start of the influence of the thc over your thoughts, “i wouldn’t mind doing that again,” you whisper.
rafe looks down at you and catches your subtle glance at his lips. “you wouldn’t?” he whispers back, a smirk starting to slowly pull his lips.
a coy smile spreads on your face and you shake your head. “I wouldn’t, no,” you murmur.
the small smirk on his face turns to a full grin as his fingers reach out to your shoulder, trailing over the strap of your dress. he starts to slowly tug it down, the strap now hanging off your shoulder. rafe feels his heart starting to thump in his chest, and he knows, oh he just knows what the night has in store for you two.
“well then…” he mumbles, leaning down to press the softest kiss on your exposed shoulder.
“... what are we waiting for?”
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spencer make my brain go numb like i wanna lazily makeout with him :(
Aight my lil guys. I’ve been ✨inspired✨. It gonna be short tho
Mkay but I feel like it’s just tender af. Ya know? Like all the time in the world kinda lazy kissing but it’s still absolutely breathtaking. Like. Y’all are just doing nothing on a Sunday afternoon, just watching a movie or smth and like ten minutes later you’re just seated on his lap and oof.
Also. I can’t remember whether or not I know what Spence’s cats names are. I know Damien’s, but I don’t think I know Spencers 🤔 Let a girl know lol
Could be included in my Ian’s Sister AU. This lil fic took me on a journey.
Word count: 500-600???
TW: Kissing!!! Nothing expletive. Established relationship.
******
Lazy Sunday Confessions
What had started as a planned movie date with your boyfriend had slowly turned into a lazy make out session on his couch.
Not that you were complaining. The movie had been quiet and rather slow, so you had found an entertaining pastime in each other that fit the vibe given by the slow Sunday afternoon.
His lips moved slowly but purposefuly with yours, one hand against the back of your neck and the other rubbing circles into your hip through your shirt.
Spencer’s apartment was silent apart from the gentle lul of the tv and soft, breathy sighs. His cats were no where in sight, napping in another room for sure. It was just the two of you.
You could lose yourself in the moment forever, everything outside of your boyfriend was long forgotten. Nothing existed save for the feeling of his lips moving against your own as his stubble lightly tickled your face. Your hands moved from his shoulders upwards to tangle your finders into messy dark curls.
Spencer did something nice with his jaw as he continued to kiss you and you sighed happily, your heart fluttering in its contentment.
You finally pulled away for a moment, and he trailed slow, gentle kisses across your cheek and to your jaw, only stopping when your forehead came to rest against his neck.
How could kissing be so…tiring? You thought to yourself. There was so much more that went into it than you had once thought. But you didn’t want to stop.
“It’s getting late, pretty girl. Gonna be dark soon.” He mumbled into your hair, his hand moving from the back of your neck to brush through your hair.
“‘m t’red,” you mumbled back and you felt him shake in silent laughter.
“If you’d like, you could stay here tonight.” There was a waver in his voice and it betrayed his nervousness. “Just to sleep, baby. No funny business until you say you’re ready.”
You smiled. You really did have the best boyfriend. “It’ll stay.”
You felt him tense in excitement. “Really?”
“Mhm. I finally picked up all the clothes I keep leaving at ‘Manda’s on wine night. I’ve got some sweats I can wear,” you began sitting up. “Just gotta run out to my car.”
“You could leave some of those clothes here, too.” He said.
Your eyes met his dark blue ones.
“I may have already made some space for you in my drawer.” He confessed. “You don’t have to if it makes you uncomfortable.”
You had your hands on either side of his face and you were pulling him back into your orbit before he had even finished taking.
He tasted of Kickstart and something so distinctly Spencer that you weren’t sure if it existed anywhere else. The smell of cologne and what was either body wash or shampoo wrapped back around you as the world once more shrunk down to just the two of you.
“I love you.” Slipped past your lips and across his skin and you froze, thinking the confession had been shoved deeper into your subconscious.
But the grin that broke across Spencer’s face could have powered the sun and erased any anxiety you had. It reached all the way to his eyes which had suddenly teared up.
“Really? I’ve been waiting so long to hear that, pretty girl. I love you, too.”
I ran out of steam towards the end there. But I’m not someone who writes anything super intimate, so this was a well accepted and well welcomed challenge.
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persephone11110 · 2 days
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tummy hurts || j.seresin
tw:grooming,childhood trauma, emotional manipulation, past sexual abuse->child sexual abuse, self victim blaming-victim blaming (not jake) mentions of alcohol, past child neglect, the school system failed, jake calls reader goldie, Y/n hit Jake in chest a couple of times
summary:“Little girls like you aren’t loved”.Your head was laying on the pillow next to him, your naked bodies touching eachother, he loved you, you loved him.
IMPORTANT NOTE: this is a very sensitive topic so please tread carefully also please let me know if there should be more trigger warnings
AN: a fic born after falling into a PLL hole on tik tok and the title comes from Tummy Hurts- Renee Rapp. Also ngl the reason Ive on a break was bcus my fics were going downhill and sad as it is it hard watching other fics blow up and your can’t even make it to double digits within hours.
THIS FIC IS ABOUT CHILD SEXUAL ABUSE/ SEXUAL ASSAULT, SELF& VICTIM BLAMING, AND CHILD NEGLECT
“Sweetheart?” Jake asked slowly, unsure if his old man hearing was fucking with him. His voice dropped to a lower tone as more rage filled his chest.
Saturday nights were designated for you dine with your husband. A night were you and Jake catch up with each other, his aviation schedule and your college professor schedule was hard to work with.
You hated drinking more than one glass of wine as it always made your tongue loose. Somehow you managed to pour another glass it felt nice to let loose—what didn’t feel nice was your husband knowing how much dignity you didn’t have as a teenager.
“Goldie, you were how old” Jake grabs your hand, gently taking the glass out of your hand. Careful not talk to roughly. He watches as the color drains out of your face.
You were lucky enough to have a history teacher who didn’t give up on his students—especially not you.
Mr.Daniels, the best history teacher there was, he had goods and bad days. But who didn’t?
You and him bonded over the love of historical events. He didn’t tell you to stop talking or, to get the hell out. He would sit there with a warm smile listening to you go on and on about history.
You don’t how many times you’ve tried talking about your interests to mom and dad. And how many times they’ve stared at you with a blank face, or told you to go away.
But Mr. Edward Daniels didn’t. You had the privilege to call him Eddie when it was just the two alone inside the classroom after school hours.
He called you Y/n and you called him Eddie when you laid your mop of brown curls aganist his bare chest.
His blue sheets wrapped your naked body, the hickeys that riddled your stomach and hips.
“I was fifteen Jake”. you sighed dropping your hands into your lap. “He was a freshman history teacher—it was his first year teaching”.
“Y/n Collins”, he dropped a hand onto your shoulder, “I like the way you argue kid”.
“Fifteen, jesus”, Jake rubbed a hand over his face,“How come you never brought this up before sweetheart?”.
Not even a butcher knife could cut through the silence in the room.
Because you loved him. He gave you the love that no one else would.
“Its been over decade Jake…. times were different back then”. You said, chewing at the bottom of your lip. Your bouncy leg betrayed in how confident you sounded in your response.
“Doesn’t matter what decade were in you were a child and he was adult”. He softly glared at you, “His job was to protect and teach you about wars and he couldn’t even do that”.
You leaned back into couch wishing the damn thing would swallow you whole. Why’s Jake trying to make you seem like a victim—you aren’t one you and Eddie were lovers in the past.
Jake sat across from you he had a death grip on the beer bottle. “He loved me Jake, he was the first man to ever give a chance of being loved”.
Jake felt the need to empty his stomach at the words that came from your mouth. He scooted closer to you, there wasn’t any space between the both of you anymore.“Was it just a one time?”.
You couldn’t look your own husband in the eye.
Jake would know how dirty his wife is.
Your silence was enough for him,“It wasn’t one time Y/n?”. Jake eyebrows furrowed,“Y/n whatever answer you give I hope you know I’d never shame or judge you”.
“We lasted for atleast for over year in half, before the school transfered him out of state”.
How long would It take me to find him and kill him.
Son of a bitch was transferred, he didn’t lose his teaching license.
“Goldie”,Jake calls your name gently—while grabbing your hands into his. “Look at me”.
You curled into yourself—Jake’s mad at you. “ Please don’t yell at me”. your voice hiccuped, you were begging him. You could handle anything but Jake Seresin yelling at you with so much anger and digust filled in his voice.
“Oh I could never blame you baby not now, not ever”. He gently cupped the side of your face, “I need you to understand how this isn’t your fault baby”. He moved around and positioned himself to make your foreheads touch eachother.
“Jake” you mumbled before you shoving your face into his neck. “I’m-”.
Jake shook his head at you he gently pulled from him,“Darlin i don’t wanna you even to think about apologizing to me”, He pressed a kiss into your cheek before speaking again.“The only one who deserves that is you, the adults around you should’ve looked out for you, your parents had one job and it was to just love you”.
You curled into yourself, you didn’t deserve Jakes love.
“Sweetheart i’m sorry for my rant here it just makes me angry that all those adults in your life and no one protected you, a innocent child who willed for love and attention from her parents”. You held onto Jake tightly afraid that in a split second he change his mind and leave you.
Your breathing became shaky and weak the hiccups got worse—your sobs got louder.
You weren’t a victim.
Jake Seresin didn’t know what he was talking about, your husband wasn’t there fifteen years ago.
He’s wrong-.
“Sweetheart”. Jake reached to grab you, “Y/n”.
Your arms become flailing, your were pretty sure your hands and Jakes chest connected atleast once or twice.
“Its okay Y/n, Its okays sweetheart”, Jake was finally able to get a grip on you—pulling your head ontop of his chest. “Shh baby, let it all out”.
“He hurt me so much Jake and nobody cared”, you sobbed.“When I finaly got the courage to tell my parents they looked at me and the first thing that came out their mouth was whore. “Y/n how much of whore do you have to be to sleep with a man well into his early forties?”
Jake wiped a tear from your face.“You got someone who cares Y/n, you have someone who loves you just as you are”. Jake sighed, would he be bad person if he took the nearest flight to his wife hometown and he beat old man to a pulp?
Bad man or good husband?, those lines tend to blur when the love of his life get hurt.
“Baby just say the word me and daggers can hop the earliest flight and kill a man, while Ice and Mav are our alibi’s”.
Your lips curl a little a small smile breaking through. “Theres that smile that broke my pool winning streak”,Jake smiles into your shoulder.
“Thank you Jake for loving me, thank you for piecing back my broken pieces”. you murmured quietly, knowing that if you go another octave higher theres a chance that you’ll start crying again.
“Oh baby I should be thanking you, you trusted me with your heart— and Y/n you were always whole you just didn’t feel it”.
My tummy doesn’t hurt anymore.
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crilbyte · 1 day
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💚🎙️Hunted🎙️💚
~Reader x Human!Alastor🪓
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Part 1 𖦹 Part 2 𖦹 Part 3 𖦹 Part 4 𖦹 Part 5
Summary: Alastor has you begin work at the speakeasy in order to keep you safe, but unfortunately, trouble seems to be able to find you everywhere.
Warnings/Promises: 16+, slow burn, abusive relationship, alcohol, physical and sexual abuse, murder, infertility, violence.
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The healing is slow, and a bit of a fight, but Alastor keeps you in bed and eventually you're back to mostly normal. You'll likely never be able to have children, but after such a traumatizing experience, the idea doesn't upset you so much. You begin helping around the house, enjoying helping. Alastor teaches you how to cook jambalaya just like his mother used to and you teach him your special pie crust recipe.
Tonight, you sit in armchairs separated by only a table and lamp in front of a crackling fire. You each have a mug of coffee, though he regularly teases you that yours is more like coffee flavored milk while you call his, bitter dirty bean water. You both just sit, silently reading whilst in each other's company. Alastor is shocked at how much he doesn't hate you being around all of the time. In fact, evenings like this one are rather pleasant.
Alastor glances over at you, a small smile playing at the corner of his lips as he admires the sight of you curled up in the adjacent armchair. The flickering firelight illuminating your peaceful face, casting a warm glow that seems to drive away the shadows in the room.
As if you sense him staring, you glance up and catch him in the act. When your eyes catch his, a small smile creeps onto your lips.
"What?" You ask in a playful tone.
A mischievous glint ignites in his gaze as he sees your smile, a silent challenge being laid out before him.
"What?" He repeats in a low, amused voice, leaning back in his armchair as he allows his eyes to roam over your features."
"I asked you first," you say with a giggle. "You're the one who was staring." You place your book on your lap face down.
He chuckles, his low voice rumbling through the cozy space as his eyes remain locked with yours. "Guilty as charged," he admits with a small smirk. "But I was merely enjoying the view, my dear."
You tuck a stray lock of hair behind your ear before looking over at the fire. Alastor notes the soft blush that stains your cheeks, finding a strange sort of satisfaction in having rattled your composure. He leans forward slightly in his armchair, resting his elbows on his knees as he regards you with a mixture of curiosity and amusement. You glance back at him, his half- lidded grin embarrassing you.
"What?" You ask again.
He laughs softly, the sound deep and throaty as he notes the slight edge of annoyance in your voice, clearly enjoying the effect that he is having on you.
"My apologies, I suppose I'm just trying to decide what to do with you, little doe," he says, leaning back and crossing his arms over his chest.
"What to do with me?" You ask, curious.
"Mmm, perhaps," he begins, uncrossing his arms and resting his hands on the armrests as he leans forward slightly. "I'm trying to decide if I want to tie you to a chair and watch you writhe in a futile attempt to escape."
You laugh at that, your smile contagious. His own expression softens as he takes in your laughter, the sound pleasant and somehow comforting. For a moment, he looks almost bewildered by you. As the sound subsides, he leans back into his seat, smirking slightly at you.
"You have a wonderful laugh, little doe."
A flattered smile curls on your lips, your eyes smiling to match. "Stop," you say, covering your face.
He laughed softly, leaning back in his armchair as he enjoys the sight of you covering your face in an attempt to hide your own flattered smile from him.
"You're a curious little thing, aren't you?" he says, his voice carrying a note of genuine adoration.
"Curious how?" You ask in a desperate attempt to change the subject to something less embarrassing.
"Curious as in," he begins, pausing to consider his words carefully. "Your reactions intrigue me, little doe. Most people fear me, but you... you laugh and smile."
"I'm not afraid of you Alastor," you say with a smirk, picking up your coffee and sipping it, peeking over your mug at him through your lashes.
He raises an eyebrow at your boldness, a small smirk playing on his lips as he watches you drink your coffee.
"You're not, are you?" he sayd, something dangerous flickering in his gaze, though his voice remained low and almost affectionate as he studies your reaction.
You place your mug back down before leaning forward in your chair, never breaking eye contact.
"I'm not. I know you would never hurt me."
His smirk widens as he watches your movements, a glint in his eyes. "Oh?" he said, leaning in to meet your gaze. "And why do you think that exactly?" He couldn't help but be intrigued by your lack of fear towards him. It was almost... endearing.
You tilt your head. "I don't know. I just know I don't..." Your eyes relax and you give him a sweet look. "You make me feel... safe."
He stares deep into your eyes, the glint in his gaze fading to something gentler as he considers your words.
"Safe?" His voice becomes softer as he says the word, his own eyes softening in response to your sincere stare.
"Mm-hm," you say with a grin.
Alastor chuckles lightly, sitting back in his seat as he shakes his head. "You are a strange one, but I think I like it," he says, his voice warm with a rare affection as he continues to look at you with interest and curiosity. It's almost... nice. You find yourself giggling again at his expression. A flicker of intrigue passes through his eyes as he considers you, the gears in his mind working overtime to formulate a plan.
"But back to your initial question," he murmurs, his low voice filled with a seductive undertone that makes you feel oddly warm inside. "I've been thinking about what to do with you."
"Oh, you meant that?" You ask, picking your mug back up.
His lips quirk up in a small smile at your reaction. "Yes, I did," he reiterates, watching as you lift your mug to your lips once more for a sip. "While I have greatly enjoyed your presence here in my home, I can't help but think you might be getting a bit stir crazy."
"What makes you say that?"
Alastor lifts an eyebrow at your question, a sly grin slowly forming on his face. "Well, for one, you're giggling at my every expression," he says, the corner of his mouth twitching in amusement. "And yesterday you alphabetized the spice rack."
You wince, closing one eye. "Okay, yeah. Maybe I see your point."
He suppresses a laugh at your wince. There you go again, he thinks to himself, already considering the many ways he might use such a fascinating quirk to his advantage.
"I have an idea to help you pass the time, if you're interested,"
You perk up. "Oh! Yes, please!"
His smile only grows wider at your enthusiasm. He can't fault you for your eagerness. "Perfect," he murmurs, his mind racing with a multitude of devious thoughts. "I was thinking perhaps... you could cover to work at the speakeasy?"
Your expression sparkles with excitement and Alastor swears he can see stars in your eyes.
"Really!? With you and Mimzy!?"
Laughter rumbles in his chest, spilling forth as he witnesses once more your unbridled enthusiasm. Truly, few things delight him as much as seeing you so animated by his machinations.
"Mmhmm," he confirms, his tone rife with mischief. "It would make me feel much more comfortable if you were close by. Within reach."
"I'd love that! Can I start tomorrow?" You ask with genuine excitement.
A low hum reverberates through his chest as he regards you with a piercing gaze, his grin growing more wicked by the moment. "Absolutely," he murmurs, intrigued by your eagerness to spend more time within his presence. "It will be good for business too."
"Good for business?" You ask, curious.
He shrugs casually, but the feral glint in his eyes betrays the intent behind his words, he didn't want anyone touching you while he was away.
"Oh, you know," he drawls cavalierly, tapping his chin with his index finger, "A pretty face like yours will be good for business, no doubt."
You blush, smiling. "Oh stop."
"What?" he says in a playful tone, his voice dipping lower, a rumble in his chest, a twinkle in his eyes, and a smirk on his lips. "I don't lie."
The next day he brings you with him to the speakeasy and you begin work. He watches as Mimzy trains you on how everything works and is glad to see you truly thriving. You quickly catch on, and even seem to enjoy the work. It's not long before you start knowing the regulars and even have a few of your own. though Alastor makes sure they know you're not to be messed with.
He takes pride in watching you blossom, growing more confident by the hour, and it was clear - you thrived under the attention you received. A smile tugs at his lips as he watches you learn the ins and outs of the speakeasy, a thrill of pride shooting through him as he watches you flourish. Mimzy traina you well, and he can't help but feel a sense of ownership over your progress.
It isn't till about a month in that You find the first sign of trouble. You're going about your day as usual, bringing drinks to regular patrons, having a fun little flirt here and there -you only can when Alastor isn't there, most of the patrons don't dare to when he is.- It's a typical evening, until a group that you don't recognize at first enters the bar.
You turn, smile wide and ready to greet the newcomers, only for your chest to suddenly feel as though you were stabbed through with an icicle. Panic rushing through your veins, you duck down behind the bar.
“What the fuck is your problem, girlie? You look like you've seen a ghost.”
You look up to see Mimzy holding a tray of empty glasses, her eyebrow cocked.
“That group that just came in? There's one man, in the red shirt, is that who I think it is?” You ask.
Mimzy turns, examining the men, she doesn't register it at first, but when she sees the pin on the lapel of the red shirted man, she feels the blood drain from her face.
“Is that Frank Tully?” She asks, quickly setting the tray down and rounding the bar to stand by you.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, *fuck*!” You chant, knowing this is bad. Frank was very close to his brother, Richard, and you begin to wonder what god you must have pissed off to get you in such a bad situation.
The man turns and makes eye contact with Mimzy, who waves a hand beneath the bar, shooing you.
“Go hide in the back office, I'll try and get rid of them.”
You nod, crawling across the floor and into the room. From inside you can hear Mimzy trying to flirt her way out of the situation, and at first it seems to be working. The men sound receptive, and it's not hard to see why; for how tiny she is, Mimzy does have two very big assets in her favor, and a third if she turns around.
It isn't until you hear your name that you feel the ice beginning to fill your veins.
“I heard she's taken up work here,” you hear Frank say. “I just need to have a word with her, that's all.”
“You talkin about that crazy Tully girl whose husband got murdered? I heard she died too?” Mimzy says in an attempt to throw them off your trail. She was really putting on quite the performance. You sit crouched by the door and remind yourself to do something nice for her later in thanks.
“Now see, that's what I thought too. But last week my good friend Reggie, here, came into your little establishment and swore your little barmaid looked a hell of a lot like my sweet late sister-in-law. Now… why would he lie about that?”
“New barmaid?” Mimzy says, voice a little shaky, “I don't got no new barmaid?”
You flinch, pulling in a sharp gasp as you hear the sound of a bottle smashing and scramble across the floor to hide under the desk.
“I ain't fuckin around, bitch. Where is she?”
“Hey fella,” you hear another male voice call out, you recognize it as a regular of yours, Kenneth. “If she says there's no new barmaid then there's no new barmaid. Now I suggest you get the fuck outta here before us blue collar folk decide to get a bit uppity and *make* you, ya butter and egg twit.”
Suddenly the bar erupts into chaos and you find yourself just shivering under the desk, tears slowly falling down your cheeks as you pray for Alastor to get there. It was almost time for him to arrive from his shift at the station and all you could think of was how badly you wished you were safe in his arms.
You'd never seen him in a fight, only ever warding off customers who got a little too handsy. The only time you'd ever seen him truly angry was when you brought up Richard, but even then it was fleeting. But for some reason, despite never having seen any real hint of malice in him, the image of him coming through that door, covered in blood, there to save you… it wasn't unconvincing, or unappealing.
“Please hurry,” you find yourself chanting. “Please, please, please…”
. . .
Alastor comes in after a shift at the radio station to find the speakeasy in the aftermath of chaos. There's a few broken glasses and multiple patrons are talking, obviously riled up from some kind of commotion. But what hits him the most is that Mimzy and you are both nowhere to be seen.
Alastor's heart races as he takes in the chaos, his mind immediately jumping to the worst possible scenarios. He begins frantically searching for you, his eyes scanning the room until he spots a familiar face.
"Alastor!" Mimzy calls out, "Thank Christ, you took long enough. They're fuckin gone now, thanks to Kenneth." Mimzy motions towards a regular you recognize, he's a little worse for wear but the man doesn't look too bad.
Alastor rushes over to Mimzy, his heart racing with an unfamiliar fear and worry. He takes in her appearance and releases a sigh of relief, grateful that she wasn't hurt in the altercation.
“Mimzy, what happened? Where is she?!”
"Fuckin Frank Tully came in lookin for your little pet. I had her hide in the office, but he almost got back there, lookin for her. He wasn't fuckin around Al." Mimzy looks as though she's trying to stay angry but her concern seeps through.
Alastor's blood runs cold at the mention of Frank Tully. He quickly follows behind Mimzy, his heart pounding with fear and worry. As he reaches the office, his eyes scan the room for any signs of you, only to find it empty. "Little doe, where are you?"
"Alastor...?" a small voice say.
As he looks towards it he can see you crawl out from under the desk. Alastor lets out a sigh of relief and rushes over to you. He carefully pulls you out from under the desk and envelopes you in a protective embrace while burying his face in the crook of your neck, taking in your sweet scent.
"Do you have any idea how worried I was about you, my little doe?"
"Alastor!" You sob out, clinging to him desperately. "I was so scared!"
Alastor holds you tight, his heart aching at the sound of your sobs. He gently strokes your back, whispering soft and soothing words into your ear. "I'm here, my little doe, I've got you. I won't let anyone hurt you."
Mimzy walks in and clears her throat in an attempt to let you know she's there, not wanting to interrupt anything.
Alastor reluctantly releases you from his embrace, turning to face Mimzy with a stern expression. He takes a protective step in front of you, shielding you from her view. "Can this wait, Mimzy? I think my little doe has been through enough for one day."
"That's why I came back here. I think you should take her home. I don't doubt that they'll be back for her. We weren't especially convincing and he seemed pretty determined to find you, girlie." Mimzy's tone is chiding, but her face gives away her concern.
Alastor turns back to face you, his eyes softening as he takes in your pale and distressed appearance. He gently tucks a stray strand of hair behind your ear and tilts your chin upward, forcing you to meet his gaze.
You gaze up at him, eyes wet with tears. "He's not going to stop..." You say in a quiet, shaky voice. "He won't stop till he finds me..."
Alastor's expression darkens at the thought of someone causing you harm. He wraps his arms around you once again, pulling you into a tight embrace and his voice is low and dangerous when he speaks. "Don't worry, little doe. He won't be getting near you ever again. I won't let him hurt you. I'll protect you with my life if I have to."
You press your face into his chest, trembling. "He's going to kill me for what I did... he won't stop..." You sob.
Alastor's grip around you tightens as he hears your desperate words. He lets out a frustrated growl before steeling himself and pushing you back slightly to look at your face, his own is set in determined lines. "I won't let that happen."
Mimzy lays a gentle hand on Alastor’s shoulder, quietly saying in his ear, "I'll get the car ready, you can drive her home."
Alastor nods curtly at Mimzy. "Yes, I will make sure she gets home safe." He says in a voice that leaves no room for argument before turning his attention back to you, scooping you up in his arms. "Come on, let's get going."
You nod, wrapping your arms around his neck and holding him close. As Alastor carries you effortlessly to Mimzy's car, his heart pounds in his chest at the nearness of you. He sets you gently in the passenger seat before getting in himself, starting the car and driving off with a determined expression on his face.
The rage in his heart begins to grow more that you're no longer in him arms to calm him and he realizes he hasn't gone hunting since you began to live with him. With today's events, Alastor begins to decide that maybe now is the time to get back to it.
Alastor tries to ignore the growing desire for blood, but it's too tempting. He will hunt tonight. Not until you're asleep and safe in bed, but he will hunt. Though, it won't be for him this time, it's for you. He only used to hunt for pleasure, but now that you're here, being threatened, he has a new purpose. To hunt down and kill every last Tully in New Orleans. Ending with your brother-in-law. He'd save him for last, so he knows what's coming, has time to fear it first.
The meat always did taste better after a little fear was put into it.
When he arrives home, he turns to find you asleep in the seat beside him. Alastor smiles softly as he takes in your peaceful expression. It warms his heart to see you sleeping and his mind wanders to thoughts of how beautiful you are. He exits the car, rounding to your door to scoop you up once more and carry you into his room, laying you in his bed. It was the safest room in the house, and the only one with a bolt.
Alastor looks down at you, resting peacefully in his bed and it takes all his willpower not to lean down and steal a kiss from your lips, he wants to touch you so much that it shocks him. He'd never felt this way about anyone before.
Alastor can't help but smile at the sound of your gentle breathing, his heart swelling with emotions he doesn't completely understand and again he wishes he could touch you. His eyes follow your every soft breath, the rise and fall of your chest -it was enough to drive him wild. But he manages to pull himself away, bolting the door behind him and turning with an evil grin. It was time to go hunting.
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Art by: @tae_hee_love on twitter
Taglist: @shadowqueen1318 @liveontelevision @honestlyshamelesskid @bad-and-drawn-that-way @lonelynmisunderstood @shcrou-sei @l0liamk @tasha-1994 @cosmiccandydreamer @twizzie-lairs @alastorssugar  
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allisluv · 2 days
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Hii can u do something with finnick with reader who is insecure about her looks so she stops eating? So he is very worried and gives her something? I'm sorry if it's something triggering, I just wanted to ask. Hope your doing ok girl love ya! ❤
i promise you this, i'll always look out for you -- finnick o'dair
pairing: finnick odair x fem!reader
word count: 600 words
content warnings: illusions to an eating disorder / disordered eating, a brief mention of weight, feeling insecure, finnick being sweet. please note that i am not trying to romanticise eating disorders and you are responsible for what media you choose to consume. please read with caution and put your mental health first!!
Finnick O’Dair notices the small things about you; like how your bottom lip trembles just before you’re about to cry or how you push around your food on your plate without really eating anything. 
It doesn’t worry him, not to begin with. At first, he just assumes you don’t have much of an appetite, but then he notices you skipping out on meals and staring at yourself for far too long in the mirror. 
Finnick has never been one for confrontation. It takes him weeks to gather up the nerve to voice his concerns.  
He lays awake for hours on end, tracing patterns down the slope of your shoulders and mulling over his words. Eventually, he drifts off and once he wakes up, your cold side of the bed is what prompts him to sleepily walk through the hallways of your shared home. 
He ventures farther into the kitchen, where he finds you curled up on the sofa in the living room, cradling a book as the television plays in the background. The sun shines through the open patio doors and your hair keeps getting caught in the breeze. 
Finnick flops down on the sofa, careful not to sit on your feet. You glance up at the shift in weight and offer him a weak smile as he leans over to press a kiss to your temple. “Hi honey. Have you eaten anything today?” 
His question catches you off guard and you can feel your eyebrows knitting together. “I– wait, what?” You splutter, abandoning your book altogether and setting it down onto the coffee table. You forgot to mark your page in your haste to brush him off. “Of course I’ve eaten!” you protest, pouting out your bottom lip like a child. 
Finnick can feel guilt eating away at the edges of his chest as he asks, “Honey, what did you have?” He threads his fingers through your hair and gently grips your chin between his finger and thumb, angling your head to get you to meet his eye. “I’m not mad at you, just worried, honey. You’ve not been eating much lately.”
For a split second, you consider crawling out of his lap and lying through your teeth, but it’s Finnick you’re talking to. It’s your Finnick. Your bottom lip trembles and you furiously blink away the tears gathering on your waterline. “I just… I hate the way I look, Finnick.” 
His heart shatters into shards of glass that stab through his ribcage. “What do you mean you hate the way you look, baby? You look beautiful.”
You hesitate. “I don’t feel it.” 
Finnick frowns, and rubs soothing circles down the skin of your hip-dips. “How about we do this, honey?” He makes sure you’re listening before he keeps going. “If you’re feeling insecure or upset or just having a bad day, come and find me; I’m willing to show you all day every day how beautiful I think you are. We’re gonna start small because I know this is gonna be hard for you; what’re you feeling like this morning?”
“I’m not hungry,” you insist, winding your arms around his neck as your stomach growls. Talk about bad timing. 
Finnick arches a teasing brow. “Nice try baby, but that’s not gonna work. How do waffles sound, hm?” 
You shrug your shoulders and thread your fingers through the golden locks of his hair. “I guess you could twist my arm.” The weight in your chest eases as he pecks your cheek and for the first time in weeks, you feel heaps better now that you know you’re not alone
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theeliampayne · 2 days
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May fic recs! If you read any of these, please leave the authors kudos and/or comments!
On Love's Doorstep by @hellolovers13 (1.6k) [louis/harry]
Harry Styles: a day in the life ☑ Stuck in a dress ☑ Abandoned by his best friend ☑ Date with hot neighbour All in all, not the worst day ever
We All Scream for Ice Cream by @wishingforloushair (3.1k) [louis/harry]
When Resident Advisor Liam left his boyfriend Niall, and Niall's roommate Harry in charge of advertising the end of semester ice cream celebration for their hall residents, he should've expected it to end in disaster. Niall created an entirely inappropriate flyer, offering a very different experience than what they were planning to offer. When distributing the flyers, Harry meets Louis, an older student studying Drama, who is far more interested in BJs that doesn't involve Ben and Jerry's.
I was a king under your control by frenchkiss (8.2k) [zayn/liam]
Liam Payne, co-captain of The Rogue and notoriously fierce pirate of the Seven Seas, meets runaway Zayn Malik. This is their love story.
just a couple of my cravings by @louandhazaf / YesIsAWorld (3k) [louis/harry]
Summer's just around the corner and Louis' battling his addictions... Cigarettes and Harry Styles.
Sure Feels Good To Love Someone by @loveislarryislove/LiveLaughLoveLarry (4k) [louis/harry]
“You thinkin’ of adopting today?” Louis shakes his head. “No, not today I’m afraid,” he says. “We’ve always said we wouldn’t get a dog until-” He stops, suddenly, clarity hitting him like ice water to the face. They’ve been together for nearly four years now, living together for two. Why shouldn’t “until” become “now”? “Until?” Louis shakes his head, looking down at the puppy in his lap. It seems to have curled itself even tighter, but one dark eye is peering up at Louis, soft and warm. His heart pounds. “Until now, apparently,” he says. Niall’s face breaks into a wide grin. “Good choice,” he says. “You’re picking the white one, I presume?” Louis smiles down at the bundle of fur in his lap. “He’s picked me, mostly,” he says. “But I suppose it’s mutual.”
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neondiamond · 2 years
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suguann · 4 months
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Possessive!Gojo who makes you wear his jersey when you go to parties at his fraternity after games, openly admiring the way you dwarf inside his clothes. He leans forward on the edge of the bed to get a better look, resting his elbows on his knees, his eyes raking over every inch of you from head to toe. 
"Toru, it's too big," you pout, checking out your reflection in the floor-length mirror on his closet door. “I look silly.”
The tent growing in his sweats says otherwise—all the blood in his body rushing from one head to the other just from seeing two things that are his coexisting—and he gives you another once-over, thinking of several ways to describe you, silly not being one of them.
"You’re so pretty, baby.” He swears he’s a little drunk from the sight of you, but he means it.
Possessive!Gojo who pushes you up against the door inside the locker room before a game—slightly jealous from the guys looking at you as they filed out into the hall, and equally turned on because he knows they can’t have you—telling you he can't play with a hard-on before he's pressing into you from behind.
He can feel your tummy quivering under his hand where he holds you close, feels how his cock is carving its way inside of you, and you both moan when he presses down lightly. It makes him dizzy how tight and small you are; pulsing, wet, and swollen-soft velvet that gives every time he buries himself into you.
"You gonna hold all of my cum in this cute cunt until after the game, y-yeah?" he sucks the question into your neck. “Don’t worry, I’ll lick it out of you afterward. Just keep it warm for me, ’kay?”
You answer him with a high-pitched whine as you clench down hard around him, cumming with a muffled scream against his palm and nearly pushing him out of your warm, fluttering heat.
Possessive!Gojo makes sure to stuff his cum back into your drooling cunt with two thick fingers, curling them into your front wall to pull another soft orgasm out of you—just a little more, ah, there you go, always so good for me—before he helps you fix your panties to trap it there.
His arms wrap around you before he presses a tender kiss to your temple. “Don’t forget to cheer for me.”
Possessive!Gojo whose smirk from watching you squirm in the stands, melts into a glare when a guy takes the empty seat beside you, sitting almost too close for his liking.
“Stop staring at your girlfriend and hit the fucking puck already,” Sukuna grumbles, leaning against his stick.
Possessive!Gojo who makes sure to fuck you in the backseat of his car afterward with the windows cracked in hopes that the guy from the stands would walk by to you moaning Gojo’s name, and he eats you out just like he promised—bending you over the center console, smiling to himself at how shy and squirmy you get—only to fill you up again.
Possessive!Gojo who pouts whenever Nanami manages to steal your attention with something sciency and nerdy (something entirely up your alley) whenever you come over on weeknights. 
“That’s so neat, Nanami,” you smile, hearts practically in your eyes as you listen to him talk about his latest research. “Maybe I can stop by the lab and check it out sometime.”
Possessive!Gojo who doesn’t miss the way Nanami’s ears turn a shade of red from your praise—color high in his cheeks—how he gives a sheepish smile whenever you talk to him.
“Toru,” you say, finally bringing your soft, pretty gaze on him again. “Are you even studying?”
Yeah, he is, but something else entirely, he thinks as he watches how your shorts hug your ass while you walk around the house’s common room—and he’s not the only one staring.
Possessive!Gojo who slaps your thigh, making you jolt in his lap. "Did I tell you to stop, huh, baby?"
You shake your head, biting your lip and avoiding the pair of eyes watching both of you (intently) from across the room—especially you—a quiet observer as you slowly sink onto your boyfriend’s cock while Nanami thrusts his own into his fist. 
"Ah, fuck—b-but–"
Your words break off into a choked moan when Gojo thrusts his hips up underneath you, pressed as deep inside as he can get, and when he looks down, he swears he can see the imprint of himself pressing against your stomach. 
"Tell me what I said,” he says through gritted teeth as he starts bouncing you, the couch continuing its steady squeaking under your knees.
Possessive!Gojo who can tell that it's hard for you to concentrate with the way his cock moves inside you, and you’re unable to answer with anything other than babbling nonsense. He decides to take mercy on you and stops to grind you in his lap instead.
He kisses your cheek, your neck, anywhere he can get his mouth on. "I said, don't stop until you cum, and you’re going to let Nanami see how fucking pretty you look when you do."
The next sound out of your mouth is a squeal when he holds your inner thighs to keep you open as he thrusts up into you again and again—letting Nanami see what can never be his.
“That’s it, baby,” he growls. “So good for me. Go on, show him how my good girl takes cock.”
Possessive!Gojo who locks eyes with Nanami just as he’s about to cum, burying his groans of pleasure into your neck as white-hot sparks shudder up his spine and heat pools in his gut.
Mine, he tries to say, but Gojo thinks his frat brother gets it when Gojo’s the one cumming inside you and Nanami’s spilling all over his fist.
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𝐆𝐨𝐣𝐨 𝐬𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐜𝐥𝐢𝐭 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝐆𝐞𝐭𝐨 𝐟𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𐙚⋆.˚
The white haired man using his fingers to spread your sticky, cum coated folds while Geto’s fat cock stretched you out. Creamy white spread along his veiny length as he fucked into you nice and slow.
“Look at that. So fuckin’ filthy Suguru. Your cock’s stretching her so wide.” Gojo groaned, leaning down to place a soft kiss to your clit, smirking against your skin when you trembled with a whine.
“She’s real noisy too. Pretty little slut’s taking my cock so well.” Geto grunted, pace speeding up as you moaned and whimpered beneath him. Your back arching with cry when Gojo began to rub quick circles on your clit. Your vision clouding as you sniffled at the overstimulation. “Suguu— hmm fuckk. I c-can’t, ‘m sensitive.”
He’d already made you cum so many times, fucking into you while Gojo whispered into your ear. Driving you over the edge again and again and again.
“Awww. You’re sensitive f’me huh baby?” Geto cooed, thumb wiping a stray tear off your cheek as you nodded shakily. “Hmm ‘s alright darling. You can take it ain’t that right Toru?”
“Of course she can, can’t ya sweetheart?”
“B-but-”
“I said you can take it baby. So you’re gonna take it like a good girl yeah?” Geto husked, his cock twitching as you whimpered with parted lips. Your body being rocked back and forth with each of his hard thrusts.
“Pussy’s so fuckin’ wet. ‘S dripping everywhere baby.” Gojo groaned, eyes half lidded when he brought his face closer. Geto’s hand on the back of his head pushing him down into you. “Just give it t’ her already Toru.”
Gojo hummed, immediately getting to work lapping at your sopping pussy. Licking around Geto’s thick cock before swirling your clit into his mouth. Sucking at the sensitive bud with small moans of his own. Chin glistening with your slick as he buried his face as far between your puffy folds as he could.
“So damn sweet.” He grunted, hands spreading your thighs even further for both him and Geto. His tongue never slowing its torture as the other fucked you deep, hips repeating slamming into yours with a loud squelch. The lewd sound mixed with that of Gojo’s greedy tongue fogging both their brains and yours.
Your cries of their names getting louder as your stomach tightened, Gojo’s hard grip on your flesh preventing you from desperately pulling away from the overwhelming pleasure. “I can’t— nngh, ‘s too muchh.”
“Yes you can. Just let go f’us okay? Give us one more ‘kay baby?”
You felt your toes curl, your body beginning to shake as you let out a whiny cry. The stimulation to both your g spot and your clit fogging your mind as your sensitivity intensified. Tears staining your flushed cheeks as yet another orgasm washed over you. This one even more powerful than the last.
“There ya go. That’s our good girl.” Geto grinned, watching as you quivered in their hold as he sloppily fucked himself with your tightness. Slowly coming to a stop to pump you deep n’ full of his cum. Gojo basking in how much wetter you had become.
They both pulled away from you. Matching smirks on their faces as you tried to catch your breath. A small pout on your face when you huffed tiredly, “Meanies.”
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