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#i’m just typing whatever shit comes to mind
hey-august · 14 hours
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Buggy low-key feels like the type of guy who’d constantly talk big game about how he’s gonna cream inside you, how he’s gonna make you fat with his babies and then fuck and fill you some more like he’s trying to go for quadruplets.
Only to turn pale when you tell him you actually are expecting, even if you agreed on having kids and not only talk about breeding for kink related reasons.
It makes you worry you somehow fucked up because he’s just gaping at you pale as a sheet and slack jawed…. Before he dashes to the railing to hurl his breakfast into the sea
„I’M FINE- URGH! THIS IS FINE! BLUGH!!“
When he calms down again he’s absolutely exited and elated however. Immediately breaks out the rum and barrels of beer and throws a feast (before remembering „Whoops no alcohol for you.“ and searches for any non alcoholic beverage he can get you while his crew gets smashed)
Of course he’s worried. Of course he is. Of course his mind is nagging at him but for the moment being? A kid! His kid! YOUR KID!
Yes yes yes.
Buggy even asks, "How did that happen?"
As if he forgot all the times he made sure to fill you up, getting everything deep - even scooping up anything that spilled out and pushing it back in.
You can tell that the question was asked out of mindless automation. All his braincells (however many or few) are running through countless scenarios and thoughts.
A baby. His baby. Your baby. Baby pirate. Is the ship safe? He was a kid on a ship, so it should be fine. But then the baby - his baby? - would turn out like him. Right, it's his baby. Your baby. But what if it has his nose? You two talked about this before. It's okay if the baby has his nos- HURK!
There's a party immediately after you tell him. Then a baby shower. Another party when you first feel the baby kick. He takes you on a babymoon and pampers the hell out of you. And a party when you two return.
They're not really "parties" like the wild shit Buggy usually plans. Instead, they're chill. He gets a whole variety of food (including the weird cravings you keep having), mocktails and cocktails, and everyone checks in on you or leaves you alone. Whatever you want.
Let's skip ahead to delivery day. There you are, with the person delivering the baby - ship doctor, doula, ship vet, Mohji - whoever it is. And Buggy, of course. Pacing back and forth. He'd be wringing his hands if you weren't squeezing the ever-living-fuck out of one of them with each contraction.
The baby is out! Healthy and crying to the skies already.
"Wait, there's something else..."
Buggy damn near faints. His vision is blurry. Twins? Could it be twins? Tr-triplets? How many? He tries to ignore the memory of words in his mouth - something about a clown car aaaahhhh fuck, why did he say that?!
His vision clears and he sees colors. A lot of colors. A chain of handkerchiefs emerging from between your legs.
What. The. Fuck.
The room is full of sweat and tears, bodily fluids, newborn wails, and giggling.
With a yank, the final handkerchief appears and confetti follows. For a brief moment, you are a literal confetti cannon.
Buggy looks at you, his face full of apprehension and excitement. You look back, exhausted and happy.
"Is that- Is that it?"
"Yup," you pop. "Congrats, daddy. Come say hi."
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rbvcdeluxe · 3 months
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it’s 1 am and i haven’t gotten good sleep in like the last week and just attended some events today and also some other days i’ve been too busy lately and like yk i’m rewatching black friday for the third time today as always and idk if this is just the tiredness speaking but i’m looking at this not-so-great-quality screenshot i literally just took right now and all i’m thinking is “oh my god oh my god oh my god he looks so fucking great holy shit look at that lightning look at that pose this is amazing oh my god” and honestly i don’t know why this is all i’m thinking about. i paused my rewatch for at least 10 minutes just staring at this specific shot. what is happening. what is my brain doing. this shot is just amazing i don’t have much to say about it like jesus fucking christ please look at that lightning look like holy shitttt and also the clothes looks so fucking like joey is going so hard with this how does he manage to go this hard how does he manage to be this fucking amazing holy shit i literally need everyone to see this shot right now please i need everyone to appreciate how good this looks because i am literally dying as i’m writing this. i can’t sleep. why is this shot so powerful i could literally die just by looking at this like this is so good looking this pic is so visually pleasing this should be put in a museum and have everyone stare at it for 5 hours it should have its own museum where the only piece in the building is this everything else is absolutely empty its literally just a room with a printed image of this
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i don’t think i’m ok right now
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vacantgodling · 1 year
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every day writeblr invents discourse about things that are not that deep
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manygreetingsfriend · 2 years
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joonie-beanie · 2 months
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Hat Guy's ASMR Commissions: S Tier | [Scaramouche/Wanderer x Reader]
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Summary: Subject: Your Commission For [Guided Masturbation Audio - 30 minute session] In which your asshole best friends order a commission from your favorite ASMR artist, and it's a lot more NSFW than you were expecting. "From this moment on, you’re going to follow my directions. I’d say “if you fail to, you’ll be punished” but we both know you’re probably just another people pleaser who will do whatever I say, as long as you know it will make me happy. But fair warning–I won’t be happy until you’re so fucked out you can’t speak a coherent word.” Content: Smut, Guided Masturbation, Toy Use, Name Calling, Degradation/Humiliation, fem!reader Word Count: 6.5k Note: this is kind of an untraditional smut, so just keep that in mind lol
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“Sweetheart…you really need to find some way to relax.”
“I agree. If you don’t release your tension, it’ll do a number on your health.”
You really appreciate Lisa and Yae being so concerned for you, but…
“I know. It’s just…not that easy for me.”
By now, in theory, you should have figured out some better coping mechanisms and ways to destress, but alas.
Taking a book from the return bin, Lisa scans it, and then places it onto the go-back cart.
“Well, have you tried getting off?”
Her suggestion makes you jerk, your head swiveling as you glance around the library to see if anyone nearby has overheard. At your side, Yae giggles.
“Calm down…finals have just ended. No one is in the library anymore—they’re out partying.”
You sigh. 
You suppose she’s right. The only reason you three are here is because Lisa is working the closing shift, and because Yae had insisted that you come along to the library with her to keep Lisa company.
“Traditional porn, a good adult novel, ASMR—all would be good options,” Lisa continues.
“I’m not really into porn right now, and I don’t think I have the bandwidth to focus on a book,” you say, resting your cheek in your palm. “As for ASMR…I’m not a big fan. I’ve really only discovered one creator that I like…”
“Oh?” 
Now that piques their interest. 
“What’s their name?”
“He goes by “Hat Guy” on twitter,” you tell them. “He mostly just…posts audio responses to dumb takes, or makes ASMR mocking other ASMR trends, but his voice is nice, and he has a small fan base…despite him kind of being a little shit.”
“How cute,” Lisa laughs while Yae pulls out her phone.
“Well, then…since it sounds like he doesn’t have any relaxing content, maybe you should just go home and take a nice bath. Did you ever use that bath bomb I got you for your birthday?”
“No,” you mumble sheepishly. At your side, Yae taps your knee.
“Lisa is right. Go home and have a bath. I’ll keep her company until she’s done.”
You raise your eyebrows in surprise.
“Are you sure…? I just got here like half an hour ago and now you want me to go home?”
“I just think some “you” time would be good,” she tells you with a smile. You pout your lips, but ultimately decide that…maybe she’s right.
“Fine, I’ll head home and rest, then.”
“Good girl,” Yae responds, patting your ass when you bend over to grab your backpack. You narrow your eyes at her, but aren’t truly mad.
“Be careful on your walk home~,” Lisa says as you start towards the exit. You wave at them both over your shoulder, and then leave the building.
A few seconds after your departure, Lisa turns to Yae.
“Alright, what did you find that you didn’t want Y/N to know about?”
Yae grins, loving that Lisa has already caught on.
“Look—”
She gets up from her seat and leans over to show Lisa her phone screen.
“I found Hat Guy’s twitter and saw that he’s accepting commissions, and look at one of the options~”
She points to something, and Lisa’s eyes hurriedly scan the text in front of her. 
When she has finished reading, she grins.
“Oh, my…well, that’s certainly tempting.”
“I was thinking maybe we can give it to Y/N as a… “you survived finals! Use this to relax” type present. Since she’s always doing thoughtful things for us when we’re swamped.”
Lisa smiles, putting a thoughtful finger to her lips.
“I agree. She’s brought us so many cups of tea over the last few months. It’s the least we can do.”
“Good,” Yae says with a nod, immediately clicking on the commission link.
“She deserves a little…fun.”
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Between the end of the previous semester, and the start of the new one, your University has generously given you a long weekend. 
4 days, to be exact. 
Most of this long weekend you spend doing the chores you’ve put off, and working a few shifts at your job. 
It’s only by some grace that you end up with Sunday off. One final day to try and relax before classes begin tomorrow…
You do your best to make the most of it—mindlessly scrolling tiktok, folding some clothes, debating if you should order food out, and ultimately deciding against it, since you just went grocery shopping…
All in all, it’s a pretty mundane day.
…at least, until the icon for your email app appears at the top of your phone screen, and you swipe down the notification to see the title:
Subject: Your Commission For [Guided Masturbation Audio - 30 minute session]
Immediately, you freeze.
Surely, this is a spam email that’s somehow made it through the cracks. Because you definitely haven’t ordered such a thing.
Yet, despite your doubts at the validity of the email, you still click on it—wanting to read the contents before banishing it to your spam folder.
Dear Recipient,
Attached to this email is an mp3 file available for you to download. This file was requested and paid for by “Fox and Witch”, and is being sent to you directly at their request.
Please do not distribute this anywhere else on social media, as this is my copyrighted content.
If there is any issue with the quality of the file, please let me know.
Have fun.
-Hat Guy
Note:
Toys Needed = Dildo, Clitoral Vibrator or Wand
…you must have knocked your head on something earlier and are currently hallucinating.
Because there is NO WAY there’s an email from HAT GUY in your inbox. And that said email is for…for…
Well, you remember seeing a link on his profile about commissions, but you’d never clicked on it to see more than that. There’s no chance he’s out here telling people how to get off, though, right…?
With a warm face, you scan the email again. And then a third time.
You can only assume “Fox and Witch” are Yae and Lisa. And you did just tell them that you like Hat Guy’s content…
You bite your lip, staring at the mp3 file. 
There’s just no way…
Hesitantly, you click on it.
“Hmph. You must be really desperate if your friends were willing to pay for a half hour of my time. Most people are satisfied with 10-15 minutes, but no…they knew you’d need longer than that.”
Oh…fuck. 
Something in your tummy flips.
That’s him, alright.
You’ve never heard him talk like that before, but it’s definitely him…you could never mistake that haughty, belittling tone.
Your tongue darts out to wet your lips, your gaze once again finding the title of the email.
Guided Masturbation.
If you’re not wrong, that means if you hit play, and keep listening, it’ll probably be a lot of Hat Guy telling you what to do…how to touch yourself.
Just thinking about such a thing makes more blood rush to your head—embarrassment blooming in your chest.
Sure, the idea of him bossing you around isn’t exactly unappealing. You’re sure he’d be…less than nice, and maybe even a little sadistic, and perhaps call you a few rude names, but—
You groan and place your phone face down on the table beside you.
“Nope, I can’t—I—”
Standing up from your couch, you trudge into your kitchen.
It’s dinner time—you need to make dinner.
You try to keep your thoughts from straying to your temporarily abandoned phone, and the email that’s sitting in your inbox—but it’s literally impossible.
Still, you manage to cook yourself a meal, and even partake in a little alcoholic drink. (Just because you’re treating yourself, and definitely not because you want to ease your nerves a bit.)
Once you’ve finished eating, you clean all your dishes, and then return to the couch. Your gaze strays to your phone, but you don’t pick it up—instead deciding to grab the TV remote.
You make it approximately 25 minutes into a movie before you can’t take it anymore.
Hitting the pause button, you throw the remote on the couch beside you and then snatch up your phone—alighting from the couch.
You grab your headphones on the way to your bedroom, and pop them into your ears only after you’ve gathered your dildo and vibrator.
Maybe this audio won’t be as hot as you’re assuming, and you’ll end up not wanting to touch yourself, but…better to have everything prepared just in case, right?
Taking a deep breath, you hit play.
The track restarts from the beginning. 
“Hmph. You must be really desperate if your friends were willing to pay for a half hour of my time. Most people are satisfied with 10-15 minutes, but no…they knew you’d need longer than that.”
“I also hear you’re quite the little masochist—but I could have assumed that, considering it’s me that you’re soaking your panties over. Just another slut who wants to be bullied, huh.”
You huff at his words, glaring at your phone screen. 
Did Lisa and Yae tell him your kinks or something?? Those bitches.
“Well, you’re in luck, because from this moment on, you’re going to follow my directions. I’d say “if you fail to, you’ll be punished” but we both know you’re probably just another people pleaser who will do whatever I say, as long as you know it will make me happy.”
Dammit, why is he right—
“But fair warning—I won’t be happy until you’re so fucked out you can’t speak a coherent word.”
With a shaking finger, you pause the audio.
You hate to admit it, but his words—the way he’s speaking to you—is already making you wet. 
You really, truly want him to bully you, and use you like a little toy.
So, guess that means you’re doing this.
Throwing any caution and shame to the wind, you hit the play button again. 
“Now…where to begin? I always like to start with an inspection. Take off your clothes, but leave your panties on. I’m not going to bid your needy pussy any attention just yet.”
You obediently do as he says, stripping yourself of your clothing until you’re left only in your panties.
“It’s unfortunate I’m not there to survey those titties in person, so you’ll just have to feel them up for me. Go ahead and grope yourself. Take a minute and massage your chest…I want to see if you’ll get wet from that alone. Although, you’re probably wet already just from my voice, aren’t you, slut?”
You click your tongue at that last part, (hating that he’s right), but nonetheless bring your hands to your chest. 
You cup your titties, and begin squeezing them—feeling the soft flesh beneath your fingers. 
“Good, keep going—squeeze a little harder now. Ah…I bet your nipples want to be touched, huh? Start teasing them, then—just enough to get them hard. I’ll give you 10 seconds—that should be enough.”
For some reason, the challenge of accomplishing a task within a certain time limit makes your pussy throb, and very quickly, you move your pointer fingers over your nipples—rubbing them lightly, and coaxing them to a peak. 
You’re ashamed to admit it, but they manage to get hard in the 10 second pause he gives you…
“Wow, look at that…what greedy titties you have—responding as I say, eager to be played with. Pinch your nipples and roll them between your fingers. Find the motion that feels best, and do it over and over again, until I tell you to stop.”
Resting your breasts in your palms, you pinch your nipples between your fingers—rolling and tugging them. 
Your eyes flutter shut as you touch yourself, each purposeful little tweak of your nipples causing your spine to twitch, and your pussy to clench.
It’s been too long since you’ve touched yourself like this…
By the time Hat Guy’s voice fills your ears once more, your nipples have started to get sore.
“Okay, stop there. I bet your cunt has started quivering, but I hope you know it’ll still be a while before I give you the chance to cum…unless, you somehow managed to orgasm from playing with just your titties? If that’s the case, congratulations! You’re the most needy and pathetic whore I’ve played with. So pathetic that I’ll give you a pass, and won’t even punish you for cumming without permission.”
The thought of being able to cum from nipple play alone makes you feel even more aroused, much to your chagrin—
“Now, let’s inspect that dirty pussy of yours. Spread your legs, and pull your panties down to your knees. I want you to stare at the crotch of your panties and feel ashamed at the wet spot I know is there.”
Taking a deep breath, you hook your fingers around your panties and tug them down your thighs.
As you spread your feet apart, you end up staring at the crotch of your panties—your lips pressing together when you notice there is, indeed, a very noticeable wet spot.
“Next, bend over. As low as you can go, with your legs still apart. I want to see everything.”
Locking your fingers together, you hesitate for a brief second before you bend over—feeling a strain in your leg muscles as you hit the point where you can’t bend anymore.
In this position, you know that you’re on full display.
“Look at you, presenting yourself to me…you really don’t have any shame, do you? If I were there, I’d be grabbing you and forcing you open wider, but since I’m not, you can do it for me! Grab your ass cheeks with both hands, and spread.”
Breathing a little shakily, you do your best to reach behind you and spread yourself. You feel your asshole clench as you do so, and the involuntary action maddens you, considering Hat Guy’s next words are—
“Such a tight little hole…I bet it’s twitching.” 
“Is it nervous, or hoping for an intrusion? Either way, anal is not the objective of today’s session, so let’s move back to your pussy. Go ahead and spread your folds with your hand. You have permission to bend over with your chest to your bed, if you feel your blood rushing to your head from bending down so low. And if you're not by your bed…where the fuck are you listening to this audio? In your car, or a bathroom stall? Pervert.”
That little quip at the end makes you smile, even as you stand up and move yourself to your bed.
You find it a little endearing how he’s bossing you around, but still managing to be somewhat considerate. You suppose maybe there is more to him than just being a brat on the internet.
Anyway—
Reaching one hand back between your legs, you slide your fingers between the folds of your pussy and spread them—opening yourself up as if he were there to inspect you.
“Now, rub your fingers at your entrance—feel how slick you’ve gotten…honestly, you should feel ashamed. Getting so wet for a no-face internet stranger.”
Sure, your panties were a little wet, but that doesn’t mean—
You move your fingers to your entrance—freezing at the amount of sticky arousal you feel. 
You...honestly can’t remember the last time you’ve gotten this wet.
“Smear the slick around your pussy, and make sure to get your clit. That’s where we’re headed next.”
You do as he says, perhaps a smidge overly excited that you now seem to be entering the main course.
As your fingers ghost over your clit, your pussy shudders.
“Bet you just clenched in excitement, huh?”
How does he fucking know—?!
“I'll be nice and will let you use two fingers. Press the pads of your fingers to your clit, and start making circular motions. Slow. 1…2…3…just like that.”
Breathing deep, you begin rubbing your clit with your fingers—repeating his count in your head, and following his pace. 
With each pass of your fingers, your walls squeeze tighter.
“You probably want to rush, or grind your hips on your fingers…but you shouldn't be acting so desperate just yet, so be a good girl and keep going.”
Huffing, you obey his command,
He goes silent for a few beats, really giving you a minute to continue hopelessly teasing yourself. 
By the time he next speaks, a needy exhale is leaving your lips—heady arousal truly being to pool in your lower tummy.
“Now you can go faster. Rub your clit to the beat of your heart. I assume it's racing, so you should be moving your hand a bit faster than before.”
You haven’t really noticed before now, but your heart is certainly beating much faster than normal…
The steady, yet swift thump of your heart is felt throughout your body the more you focus on it, and you quickly adjust your pace. 
A breathy little sigh leaves your lips—your brows pinching together.
You want to cum. 
“I wonder if you're close already, just from your fingers on your clit…haha. If you are, remember—you don't get to cum until I say so. So if you're close to cumming, edge yourself. Get right to the edge of your orgasm, and then stop. I'll give you 10 seconds after that to collect yourself, but then you have to keep going.”
Oh, fuck…
You suppose you should have realized that edging might be part of the equation, especially during a 30 minute session.
And, unfortunately, the thought of edging yourself for him makes you even hornier—pushing you closer to your first climax—or, well, edge.
“I bet you're probably thinking that 10 seconds isn't very long…that when you start again, you'll still be right at the brink of your orgasm, and will have to keep edging over, and over…hah, well…that's your own fault for being so hopeless.”
“Now, I'll let you set the pace. Find the rhythm and motion against your clit that makes you feel the best…you're going to keep that up for 1 minute—and remember, no cumming.”
Dammit—
By now, your lips are fully parted—quick little breaths fanning in front of your face and warming the sheets of your mattress.
You don’t want to edge, you want to cum, but he won’t let you—
“Also, why don't you go ahead and count aloud? I assume you're in private, so it shouldn't be an issue to let out your voice. And if you're not, well…I guess people will get to hear what a debauched whore you are.”
If this were 10 minutes ago, you’d surely blush and hesitate to follow his command.
But now…now you’re a little closer to being the debauched whore he’s calling you.
“I'll count with you so you don't rush it. 60…59…58…57—”
With headphones in, you hear your own voice in your head—mingling with his. 
His, unwavering, with a hint of mockery. Yours…quiet, and struggling to stay on beat.
You clit throbs beneath your fingers, and there’s a familiar flutter of your walls, despite your pussy currently being empty. 
You’re getting close. 
“I can only imagine how sinful you look right now…oh, right. Where was I? Hmm…let's just pick up from 30.”
Motherfucker—
You let your face drop into your sheets, your thighs tightening and knees shaking.
Fuck, you wanna cum. You know you can’t—know it’s not allowed yet, but—!
“5…4…3…2…1. Stop moving your hand.”
Perfect timing. Right at the edge of an orgasm—you pull your hand away.
You take a second to try and catch your breath while ignoring the unfulfilled ache between your legs.
“Your pussy must be throbbing, huh? Lucky for you, as your benevolent master, I’ll let you stuff it full. Grab your dildo and get on your bed on your knees.”
“Also, I assume you're soaked by now, but if not, and you need additional lubrication, use lube.”
You glance behind you at your dresser, where your bottle of lube sits, but ultimately don’t grab it. 
By now, you’re sure you can do without.
Grabbing your dildo, you climb onto your bed, and obediently get on your knees.
“Now, sit up and position the dildo beneath you. Rub the head between your folds, and then settle it at your entrance.”
You do as he says—a shiver of excitement raking up your spine as the tip of your dildo unexpectedly flicks against your clit while you get it into position.
“I'm going to give you 3 seconds to take it fully inside of you…What? I did say we'll be stuffing you full, and with how needy you clearly are, I figured I'm doing you a favor by letting you take it all in!”
Oh. That’s—
“So, I'll count to three. Oh, and if your dildo is too big, and you're scared to sink down onto it all at once, well…that's your own fault for biting off more than you can chew. But, I'm sure that greedy pussy will take anything it can get.”
It will.
“Ready?”
You take a trembling breath.
“3, 2, 1—!”
In one swift motion, you spread your thighs and sink down onto the dildo.
When the head bumps against the deepest part of you, you can’t help but gasp—the sound positively lewd.
“Ahhh…fuck. You made a cute sound, didn't you? How precious…now you're stuffed to the brim with dick, as you should be.”
Yes, this is exactly how you’re meant to feel…just a little slut who will do anything to cum for him.
Yet, despite his harsh instructions, he seems to pause for a second, giving you a chance to acclimate to the intrusion.
How cute.
“Why don't we start slow…I want you to lift your hips until just the tip of the dildo is inside of you, and then grind back down on it. Up…and down…up—”
To aid in the motion, you place your hands flat on the mattress in front of you, and then begin moving your hips.
Up…and down…
Your walls clench around the dildo, practically begging for more, but the man currently using you as his personal toy clearly isn’t inclined to give you such a thing.
At least, not immediately.
If you had to guess, he makes you continue at this slow, teasing pace for at least 2 minutes—your muscles beginning to strain as you resist going any faster.
Then, his voice fills your ears once again. You nearly sigh with relief.
“I hope your thighs aren't burning yet, because now we're going to pick up the pace. Imagine the gallop of a horse's hooves. I want you to grind on each downbeat. No need to make big motions—just grind on your dildo how you'd grind your pussy on my cock if I was there.”
If he were here, you’d wanna grind on his dick until he’s moaning louder than you are—
“Fuck…”
Fingers curling into the sheets, you find your new rhythm—the sound of your wet pussy beginning to fill the quiet room outside your headphones.
Sweat starts to bead on your brow—the arousal inside of you searing hotter, and your muscles getting tighter.
“I wonder if you can cum from internal stimulation alone…try to find your g-spot if you haven't already. I want you to bully it with your dildo.”
You can practically hear the grin in his words. 
Repositioning yourself, you find the angle that better allows you to rub that sensitive little spot inside you.
Almost immediately, a whine rips from your throat.
“Now…I'm going to issue you a challenge. I'll count down from 60 seconds again. During that 60 seconds, you're free to cum. So try your best, okay, slut?”
Please, you want to cum, but you don’t know if 60 seconds will be enough—
“60…59…58…”
Dammit—
With his challenge invigorating you, you continue messily grinding your hips.
Each pass of your dildo against your g-spot causes your pussy to shiver, and your thighs to shake—your orgasm creeping closer.
“33…32…31…”
A desperate sound slips past your lips, your eyebrows knitting together.
You want to cum.
You want to cum.
You want to cum, but—
You drop down onto your dildo roughly, almost in a pouting manner.
You need more time.
As soon as your climax finally begins to build—your walls clenching down on your dildo—Hat Guy reaches the end of his countdown.
“3…2…1…so…did you cum? Either way, I'm sure your legs are shaking. I wouldn't doubt that your sheets are getting soiled by your arousal, either.”
“Well, whether you came or not, don't worry—there's still more opportunities to orgasm yet to come! That being said, set your dildo to the side, and grab your vibrator instead.”
Exhaling, you manage to lift up your hips, and your dildo slips out of you. 
It flops onto your sheets, glistening with your arousal.
Your pussy mourns the loss.
Setting your dildo to the side, you grab your vibrator instead.
“You can go ahead and lay on your back. I'll give your knees a break…isn't that nice of me? You should say “thank you”.”
You clench your jaw as you roll onto your back, your eyes squinting at the ceiling.
There’s no way he’s serious, right? Counting is one thing, but thanking someone who isn’t here?
“Huh? Did you think that was just a suggestion? Go on.”
You wet your lips with your tongue.
“...thank you.”
There’s a brief second of silence, and then—
“...pfft, hahaha! If you actually did just say it aloud, you're more of an obedient people pleaser than I thought. What a precious little cock-sleeve.”
You want to punch him—
“Anyway, I haven't let you cum from your clit yet. I bet by now it's engorged and begging for attention…go ahead and put your vibrator on your clit. Turn it on low.”
The fact that even just touching your clit causes you to jolt proves that his words are correct.
Hitting the power button, you turn your vibrator on a low setting, and almost instantly—the orgasm that had started to fade away flares back to life.
“Good…I'll let you keep it there for a little while. Actually…I'm gonna go get some water. God knows how upset you'd be if my voice suddenly gave out and I couldn't give you permission to cum—”
You hear the sound of a chair being alighted from, and footsteps padding away from the mic.
“This little motherfucker—,” you pant, your chest heaving. 
You gently rub your vibrator around your clit—hoping that doing so will help you delay the orgasm that’s building—but it’s impossible to avoid.
After another minute, you can’t put it off any longer.
Your body tenses, your pussy tightening, and—
You tear the vibrator away from your clit.
If he were here, you think you’d honestly start to beg him for mercy. Of course, you’re sure he’d say that’s practically your first true edge, and you’re just being a little baby, but still.
You start the countdown from 10 in your head, and once it’s done, put your vibrator back on your clit.
Your entire body jolts as the pleasure that had been denied snaps back to attention.
You’re gonna have to edge again—
“How are you holding out? Did you edge at all—just from the vibrator being on low? At the very least, I bet you're squirming and panting.”
“Now, listen closely. I'm going to make you an offer.”
If his offer involves you cumming, you’ll do whatever it takes.
“I'm going to let you cum with the vibrator still on low—assuming you can. This time I'll be generous and will give you 90 seconds, even. But here's the catch. At the end of this session, you will be cumming. So if your begging cunt blots out any logic in your brain, and you decide to cum now, and then feel it's “too much” later, well. That'll be your own fault. Even if you're overstimulated, you'll be cumming again, so choose wisely.”
“Either way, you need to keep the vibrator on your clit for another 90 seconds. You just need to decide if you're cumming or edging. Get ready. To spice it up, this time I'm not counting aloud—I'll just tell you when to stop. So if you're planning on cumming, try not to waste any time. Because if I say stop and you're right there, I doubt you’ll be very happy. Now, begin.”
Risking an overstimulated orgasm after this is a dangerous game, but—
You press the vibrator harder against your clit. 
You need to cum—you don’t care about anything else right now.
Your free hand grabs at your breast—your toes curling, and your heart racing.
Your back arches off the bed, a symphony of miniscule whines and gasps falling from your lips.
Then, the tension inside of you reaches its limit, and snaps.
Your voice catches in your throat—your body spasming as waves of pleasure rock you.
You keep the vibrator on your clit to draw them out as long as you can, but after a few long beats, Hat Guy’s voice fills your ears once again. 
“Stop—that's time. So…did you cum? I wish I could see the state of you…I bet you're starting to look all fucked out. We're already at the 20 minute mark, after all.”
You can’t believe it’s already been 20 minutes. Yet, at the same time, can’t believe you’re not already closer to the end.
“Now, I did say you'd be cumming again, so why don't you go ahead and put your vibe on high? Let's try and force it out of you.”
It’s fine…it’s totally fine. 
Turning your vibrator on high will be totally fine.
You move the toy back to your clit and push the button until the vibrations are much more intense than before.
Almost immediately, heat rushes through your body—stemming from the still recovering nerve ending on your clit.
You’re over-sensitive. Fuck.
And yet…your pussy still flutters—your muscles tensing once again as another orgasm begins to build.
“Ahh, I bet you're squirming like a pathetic little worm. Is it too much? Do you want to beg me to let you stop?”
“Your toes are curling, aren't they? I wish I could hear you and see you panting like a bitch in heat. Should I throw you a bone? Would that satisfy that sad cunt of yours?”
You are writhing, and panting, and every other filthy thing he’s pegged you as. But—you don’t want to stop. You’re too far in now—your whole body shaking, and your breaths coming quick as the vibrator on your clit overwhelms you.
It’s overwhelming, but you can’t stop chasing that high. You—
“Actually…that's not a bad idea. Stop—now.”
Despite not wanting to, you immediately yank the toy away.
You hear yourself whining, unable to help it.
“Hopefully you didn't cum in the last 30 seconds. If so…whoops~”
You wish you could kick him.
“This final orgasm is going to be our grand finale, so we should really let the sparks fly. And maybe your juices, depending on how hard you cum.”
“Grab your dildo—shove it in.”
You scramble to grab it—your arm darting to the side to recover the dildo you’d discarded a short while ago. 
As soon as you have it, you spread your legs and press the head at your entrance—stuffing it in without any preamble.
A pleasant sigh leaves you as that full feeling returns.
“You're going to fuck yourself with it—however fast or slow, I don't care. And at the same time, turn your vibrator back on high.”
You can tell where this is going, and you honestly think it may kill you, but you follow his instructions nonetheless.
Turning the vibrator on high, you place it back on your clit and then begin fucking yourself with the dildo. 
Almost immediately, involuntary sounds slip out of you—your body writhing against the sheets.
The overwhelming strength of your vibrator on your clit now partnered with the messy rubbing of your dildo between your walls…you’re truly becoming the mess he promised to make you.
“Oh, and just so things don't end too soon, you need to hold out for at least one minute. I'll let you know once you have permission to cum.”
You hardly think it’s fair that he’s saying this now, considering you’ve already started fucking yourself, but even so, you want to listen—want to be a good girl who does what he says, and only cums when permitted.
Holding out for a whole minute when your cunt is already starting to spasm—your clit feeling like it’s on fire—is certainly going to be a challenge, though.
“You know…I bet if this were a live call, I'd be able to hear how wet your pussy is. You're probably gripping onto that dildo so tightly…as if it's a real cock that you're begging to properly breed you.”
If he were here you wonder how he’d fuck you. Certainly hard enough that you’d be able to hear the slap of his balls against your pussy—
“You must be panting, huh? So ready to cum…I wonder if you’d be obedient enough to cum when I say. Why don’t we try? We’re getting close to a minute, after all.”
Oh, fuck. 
You’ve never cum on command before, but you want to for him.
“C’mon, princess, I know you can do it…keep going…get yourself right there—”
Your chest shudders, and tears blot your eyes.
You’re trying. Everything feels so hot. 
The arousal in your tummy swells—tightening up, and searing your insides.
“Cum.”
A sob rips from your chest, and you grind your dildo against your g-spot one final time, before your body obeys, and releases.
With the vibrator on high, this orgasm is much more intense than the last. 
Your breath catches, your spine curving, and your hand releases the dildo in favor of grabbing onto your sheets for dear life.
Despite the clamping of your pussy around the silicone cock, it still manages to slip out of you after a few seconds—flopping onto your mattress, and poking wetly against your ass.
When the pleasure on your clit starts to turn to pain—you finally tear the vibrator away. You turn it off, and weakly discard it onto the bed beside you.
Despite no longer having any toys in or on you, your cunt and clit continue to twitch with aftershocks.
You take a deep breath. 
Hat Guy is still talking in your ears, but your brain is too scrambled to process what he’s saying. So, you just continue to lay there until his words sound more like words again.
“Alright, you must have cum by now. Take a minute to breathe. And when you’re done catching your breath, make sure you get up and go pee, and then get some water. Because I’m not about to be liable for any after-effects of this session.”
Despite being exhausted, you can’t help but quietly laugh.
“Good job making it through. I’m sure we’ll meet again soon…mostly because I’m sure you’ll be opening this file again to get off to, haha.”
“Later~”
The audio ends.
You lay there, staring at the ceiling.
Then, you roll onto your side, slowly get up, and head for the bathroom.
Can’t let Hat Guy be liable for you, after all.
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The following morning, you wake up with sore muscles, and a determination to go and beat up Yae Miko and Lisa Minci about their “gift”.
Yeah, maybe you are a little less tense than before, and the stress that had been clinging to you after the end of the previous semester is now gone, but still. They deserve a good scolding.
First, however, you have to go to your 9AM lecture. After that, you’ll have time to run to the library.
Despite the soreness in your thighs, you manage to trek across campus and make it to your class with time to spare. You chose a seat somewhere in the middle, and then set your bag down in the chair beside you.
With nothing to work on yet, considering today’s the first day, you entertain yourself with social media apps on your phone as the lecture hall slowly continues filling up.
When there’s only a minute left before the class is set to start, there’s a tap on your shoulder.
Startled, realizing they’ve probably been trying to get your attention, you immediately take out one of your headphones. Before you can even turn to face them and apologize, they’re talking.
Except…the voice of the person beside you is…eerily familiar. Scratchy, attractive, and perhaps a little annoyed—
“Do you mind moving your bag? There aren’t very many seats left.”
Without saying a word, too stunned to speak, you reach over and move your bag to the floor at your feet. The man grunts, and takes a seat beside you.
As he pulls out his laptop, you finally build up the courage to look at him. 
Dark hair and eyes to match…slim fingers, but veiny hands…a black shirt and oversized jacket—
“Do you need something?”
Oh, fuck—you’ve been openly staring.
Your eyes meet his for the first time, and you open your mouth, but no words come out. The beat of your heart starts to get faster.
He cocks an unimpressed eyebrow at you.
“What? Cat got your tongue?”
This is just too much—there’s no fucking way this is happening—
Unfortunately, before you can finally pull it together and try to redeem yourself, your professor takes the podium at the head of the room.
“Class! Welcome! While it might be a little unconventional to start the semester out on this note, I just want you all to know in advance: this class will heavily rely on cooperation with others. There will be many team projects. In fact—the person you’re sharing a table with will be your project partner for the whole semester!”
…what.
Beside you, the man sighs—clearly unhappy to hear about there being group projects, or you being his partner, or both.
“Great, looks like we’re stuck together.”
“Yep…,” you mumble in response, the first word you’ve managed to speak since his arrival.
He obviously notices, because his lips pull into a teasing little grin, his eyes remaining trained on your still-speaking professor as he whisper—
“Oh, would you look at that? She speaks.”
Your pussy clenches.
Mhmm, yep! 
You’re gonna go jump off a bridge.
1K notes · View notes
6esiree · 4 months
Text
“Oh, so your fingers worked when they were inside of me last night, but today they can’t text me back?”
I saw this on Instagram and tried to imagine how my five fav Hazbin men would react if you texted them this. I whipped this up pretty quickly so sorry if it’s crap, LOL <3
Alastor:
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Alastor only has a phone so you can contact him whenever you need to, and he usually answers right away, the only exception being when he’s busy. But the one time he accidentally leaves you on read because he’s out with Rosie, getting sidetracked by an interesting revelation, you decide to hit him up with this and, oh, he’s visibly horrified, flustered even, when he finally reads it.
“Is something the matter, Alastor?” Rosie asks, putting her teacup down as she notices the look on his face. “Oh my! Are you…blushing?”
“Excuse me for just a second,” Alastor says as he stiffly stands up, pushing his seat in and turning away, furiously typing at his phone.
“I am with Rosie. We will talk about this when I get home, understood?”
“Ok, I’ll be waiting for u <3.”
“Kiss your legs goodbye, ma chérie, because you will be unable to walk for a while.”
Lucifer:
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Whenever you go out, you like to text Lucifer to see how he’s doing. This man answers FAST as fuck, that is why the one time he doesn’t you hit him up with this, trying to get his attention. When he finally checks his phone his heart instantly drops—I mean, what is he supposed to feel? He’s a blushing mess as he recalls what you did last night, but he’s also panicking, so he decides to call you.
“Hey, honey! I’m so, so sorry, I was in the middle of something. My fingers work just fine, by the way, I can show you if you come back home—“
“Christ, Luci! I was just trying to get you to answer.”
“Pretty please?”
Husk:
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Husk takes his sweet ass time responding to your texts, so the best way to reach him is to call him. However, it’s just one of those rare occasions where you can’t do that, hitting him up with this to try to get his attention. Husk has company at the bar, that’s why when he finally sees your text he immediately turns his back to everybody, cursing under his breath as he tries to adjust himself through his pants.
“Oh, babydoll. Just wait until you get home,” Husk texts you back, pissed off but also slightly amused, especially when you answer him.
“Haha, ok…whatever u say old man :P.”
“You’re lucky Angel can't mind his own fucking business, otherwise I’d have something to say about that.”
Vox:
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Unless he’s busy with something or he’s pissed off with you, Vox will answer your texts right away. The one time he forgets to tell you he has a meeting, you hit him up with this after trying to reach him for a while. Vox steals a glance at his phone, his screen slightly glitching when he’s asked to put in his two cents about something because he’s flustered. As soon as the meeting is over with, though, he teleports to your room, utterly embarrassed.
“I was in a MEETING! What in the Hell were you thinking?”
“Hey, I didn’t know that, I swear!”
“Yeah, yeah, now come over here, sweetheart. Let me demonstrate how well my fingers work on you.”
Adam:
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Adam is 50/50 when it comes to answering your texts. Sometimes he’ll answer quickly, and sometimes he won’t, which can be frustrating. When you hit him up with this, it’s one of those times that he’s taking hours to see your texts, even leaving you on read when he finally opens them because his memory is shit. Adam is out with Lute, his eyes bugging out of his head when he decides to check his phone. I mean, hey, what’s up with that?
“Sir? Where are you going?” Lute asks him, watching him spread his wings, but Adam doesn’t answer, leaving before she can notice his boner.
“Hey, what the fuck is wrong with you? You gave me a boner in public, you stupid—!”
“Well, start answering your texts then, Adam! And don't you dare finish that sentence, or no sex for a week.”
“I'm so sorry, baby. I love you so much and I will answer your texts right away from now on.”
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6kuna · 2 months
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Dilf! Sukuna would be one of those guys that defend women in danger+ would also be so bad at rizzing girls up that he just sounds desperate and pathetic[endearing]
“You’re the new teacher? I didn’t know they hired young girls these days. I wouldn’t even be surprised if you’d be the reason my son is getting his abc’s” he says as he looks at you up and down savoring every curve and line of your
You gave the parent a benefit of the doubt and took whatever he said as a compliment all while returning his “compliment” with an awkward chuckle.
“Thank you…”
“Say…if you come by my house and give some private lessons for him I’m more than capable to pay you more than the school does” he says smirking hiding the perversed meaning behind his shit request.
It’s the first time some weird parent tries to pull this type of behaviour on you the whole interaction leaves you in shock as you smile awkwardly trying to find the right words to respond and the patience to not punch him in the face. Your heart beats rapidly with your fists turning clammy and white from anxiety of not knowing what or how to respond to the fool of a parent.
“MISS Y/N I MISSED YOUUUUU” a familiar pink haired kid comes running as he gives you a hug. Shocked was an understatement by you were more than grateful for Yuuji to intervene.
“you know me and your teacher were having a conversation don’t your parents tell you that it’s rude to interrupt adults” The random parent says giving Yuuji a fake smile.
“Yeah? I’m the parent.” Sukuna says curtly with the most unamused expression known to man.
The male turns around to take a look at whoever the parent of the funky insolent child only to be greeted by a 6’5 fully tatted male who looked like he was more than capable to break his bones with just a simple flick. It also didn’t help the fact that Sukuna’s aura(lol) was more than threatening enough on its own without having to say a single word.
“I guess kids these days don’t learn enough manners I’ll take my leave for now” the inferior male says gulping as he puts up a front before scrunching up his face as he walks away.
Sukuna glares daggers at the stupid fool making sure he leaves the vicinity.
A huge breath of relief was let out as you kneeled down onto Yuuji’s height thanking him and his scarily hot dad for saving you from whatever the situation was.
“You guys have no idea how thankful i am, Yuuji you and your dad literally saved me”
“WE KNOWWWW, Hiro’s dad is a bit creepy” Yuuji says happily as he brings out a couple of souvenirs from his summer trip with his family to you before running into the building excitedly leaving you and his dad alone.
“Did he ask you if you for private lessons?” Sukuna asks with a smug smile
“Yes- what how did you know?!”
“He’s a douche and a weirdo he says that to every new teacher even the volunteers. I hope you’re okay after that interaction” Sukuna scoffs annoyed at the male’s behaviour. Knowing that Sukuna at his prime would’ve beaten the hell out of the weirdo for making women uncomfortable.
“I’m fine honestly I wish I could return the favour i don’t even know what i would’ve done if you and Yuuji didn’t come by” you say in a appreciative tone
Sukuna upon hearing this immediately takes the opportunity to ask you on something that has been on the back of his mind from the moment he laid eyes on you.
“You can return the favour by coming by my place for dinner I’ll cook, I can even pick you up just let me know when you’re free” he says in the spur of the moment not noticing he sounds like a desperate, desperate man.
You were so shocked at Sukuna’s abrupt response to the point you could literally feel the heat rising onto your cheeks making you smile sheepishly before bursting out in laughter.
“I didn’t think you would ask me that, but im free anytime on Saturday is it fine with you?”
“Saturday? Perfect” he says grinning as he sees you walking away he came to his senses realising he forgot to ask for your number
“You didn’t give me your number” he says from afar
It was your turn to leave him into the flustering mess. You smirked looking back at the giant of a male waiting for your response.
“I have yours don’t worry i’ll text you later” you say playfully.
It was true you do have his number. You’ve saved it from the moment he sent Yuuji on the first day.
Sukuna was lucky enough he didn’t have whatever his dad had cause frankly Sukuna would’ve probably gone into cardiac arrest with that statement alone. With that it is settled Yuuji will be sent off to Toji’s house for a sleepover while his dad gets straight to business.
Edit:not proofread was done when im literally ten secons awya from asleep i appoliguse for shit writing
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bunny584 · 7 months
Text
OBSESSED: ITADORI
A/N: Quarterback Itadori with #20 on his jersey realizes he has a little (big) problem with a certain cheerleader turned Chem tutor (who also happens to be just a little bit older 🤭). Anon this one is for you! I hope you enjoy 💋
S/N: I’ve never giggled so much writing a piece. This one was so funny to me.
C/W: Aged up characters (19+), college AU, Mature, 18+
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“ITADORI!”
Oh for fucks sake.
Yuji can’t drag away from the pyramid of cheerleaders right of center field.
“Coach?”
“IF YOU WANT TO WEAR A SKIRT AND BACKFLIP FOR THE BOYS THEN JUST SAY THAT?!”
His teammates erupt in a chorus of laughter. Coach Yaga is an ass.
Fact.
But he is also living, breathing, comedic relief.
“I would coach, but they aren’t my type!”
Yuji yells back, eyes still lasered to your back. He knows it’ll sear Yaga’s skin right off the bone.
Whatever.
What’s a few more seconds, right?
You are just so…hot.
In a mind-bending kinda way. An optical illusion. Or desert mirage.
A fresh water oasis in a destitute wasteland. Always just a few more steps away. No matter how long he’s been crawling on his knees.
His knees.
He’d kill to be on his knees for you. Diving head first into—
“SHUT THE HELL UP AND GET BACK ON THE FIELD. PINK TOP IDIOT!!”
“Yes sir!” Times up.
“Dude, she’s a smoke show.”
The team’s starting running back (#14) rests his arm on Yuji’s shoulder. Just as four bodies fling you so far against gravity it is questionable whether you’ll come down.
“She’s perfect.”
“And a junior.” #14 reminds him, tugging his helmet back over his head.
“So?”
“Okay, freshmeat. Someone’s got mommy issues.”
Yuji bursts into full belly laughter. Stealing one last glance at you before pulling his helmet on.
His teammates never fail to remind him that he’s the only freshman in Tokyo University history to make starting lineup.
Not to mention quarterback.
“#14, #20 IF YOU DONT STOP RUBBING DICKS ILL WEAR BOTH OF YOUR ASSES TO THE BONE THIS AFTERNOON.”
Yuji promptly takes position at center field. He knows better than to push his luck. Two-a-days are already brutal enough, he has no intention of making his life harder than it is.
But you do.
You are setting flames to the hoops Yuji has to jump through to get through study hall and afternoon practice.
Why else would you wear those yoga pants?
They’re a second skin, for Christ’s sake.
Might as well be body paint. Outlining every tantalizing, serpentine curve. Pretty, full hips. Plump, tight ass. The mouthwatering, puffy rose between your legs just begging to be watered. By his tongue.
Yuji’s palm digs into his crotch. Trying to force his pulsating length from tenting up into the table. Cursing himself for changing out of his compression shorts.
“Hello? Yuji?”
Your dulcet voice echoes between his ears and curls around his dick. Jerking him back down to earth.
“Y-yeah? Hi.”
Yuji forces an acknowledgement through the sharp edges of his voice box. Sitting fully erect in his seat. Scrambling to find the pencil that was supposed to be mirroring your work on the whiteboard.
Because not only are you a perfect 10 on and off the field; you are a prodigy when it comes to chemistry.
And currently in the middle of trying to diffuse some of your excess knowledge into his very deficient head.
You toss your head back. Your laughter is definitely why tales of fishermen being lost at sea exists.
Light.
Breathy.
Soprano crescendo that’s rutting against the few folds in his brain.
“Why are you so distracted today, Yu?”
“Distracted?” His voice cracks.
“Ha—no, I’m not distracted. Sorry, walk me through it again.”
But before Yuji can retreat back into his daydream, you catch him in the Venus fly trap of your gaze. Tilting your head slightly.
Yuji swallows thickly. Frozen in place. Hand pushing down on his cock with all his might. As if you could see through the table.
Did you know he was staring at your ass? Can you tell how hard he is? Is there drool on his face? Shit, there must—
“Woah, the way the sun is catching your eyes right now, Yu.”
You take a half step to the side, allowing the full beam of light to caress Yuji’s already hot face.
A shaky hand swipes along the back of his neck.
“H-huh?”
“Your eyes are so pretty. Warm. Like hot chocolate with cinnamon.”
Your full lips curl into a soft smile. And Yuji bites down a pitiful whine.
“I—thanks.” You don’t hear him. Because he whispers through a wired shut jaw.
Yuji lets his erection tent up, grazing the table. He fists his base through his athletic pants. Ears fiery hot with embarrassment. His hand glides up and down his clothed cock without his permission.
Did you know?
That you snapped his self-control in half?
And shoved him into the darkest recesses of his mind?
Where his most depraved thoughts (and the King of Curses) lives?
Because all Yuji can see is the way your ass ripples and bounces while you scribble hieroglyphics on the whiteboard.
His mind’s eye is currently picturing him fucking you dumber than he is.
Fist full of hair in one hand. Both of your wrists behind your back in another. Mesmerized by the way your plump, fleshy mounds slam against his hips.
Maybe he’ll fuck you in front of a mirror?
So he can make you repeat how pretty you think his eyes are while he brands the shape of his cock into you.
Then he’ll tell you how pretty you are. Creaming all around his length. Drool raining down from your lips in sync with his thrusts.
Maybe he’ll stick a dildo on the mirror so he can watch your mouth get stuffed while he violates your insides?
You’ll look so pretty. When he fills you up with something warm. A little thicker than ‘hot chocolate with cinnamon.’
“Yu? Are you okay?” Genuine concern knocks his lust-drunk thoughts loose.
Yuji blinks himself back to this dimension. Chest heaving. Cramps blooming from his fingertips to his biceps from grasping his sex so hard. He doesn’t need a mirror to know he’s stained blood red. From chin to hairline.
“I-uh. Sick. I’m—I feel sick. Be right back.” He takes off to the male locker room at inhuman speed.
Yuji nearly doubles over the porcelain sink, glaring at his blown out pupils. Olive skin flushed like he just finished a marathon.
He can’t believe he was just groping himself like that in public. In plain sight.
All because you complimented his eyes?!
Who the hell is he?
“Sukuna, give it a rest.”
Yuji hisses poison at his curse. Because he surely wasnt responsible for those lewd actions.
“Oh, I’ll rest you PERMANENTLY you asinine little b—“
“I’m serious. Quit it.”
Yuji darts around the empty locker room. Accidentally raising his voice.
“Quit what, brat?”
“Quit…making me think..things like that.”
Sukuna’s bellowing laughter sounds like nails on a chalkboard. Deafening between Yuji’s ears.
“That’s all you kid. I’m only 10 fingers in. Don’t have that power…yet.”
Sukuna retreats to Yuji’s subconscious. Leaving him stunned. Disbelief crashing into him like tornado winds.
Yuji has never been a pervert.
Sure, he’s had crushes. But he knows how to control his impulses.
He might be dumb like one, but he’s not an actual dog…right?
Wrong.
Yuji dives into an empty stall while his teammates file in. Study hall is complete and afternoon warm-ups are starting soon.
And his neglected, weeping sex is clamoring for attention.
Missing it’s muse — your soft, curvy frame and the ways he wants to fill you.
One hand clamps over his mouth. While the other one tugs his pants down. Thick, heavy length springing free. Sticky and slick with his precum.
His head meets the cool wall. Hips thrusting against his fist. Broken whimpers pushing through the web spaces of his fingers that are digging into his cheek. Choking himself quiet so no one hears his pathetic hormone driven state.
“Mnnhgh f—fuck.” Muffled curses slip past his hand.
His cock is red and engorged. Angry from his abuse. But his hips can’t stop rutting into his hand. Picturing abusing your pretty, swollen cunt.
A hot tear rolls along his cheek, between his fingers. Salty on his tongue.
Curtains start to shade his vision and Yuji’s hands move to cup his bulbous tip. His muscular core tenses and strings of warm, thick seed fills his hands.
The world slowly starts to piece together. His heart rattling in its cage comes to a normal pace. Choppy, incomplete breaths gradually replaced with deep, relaxed ones.
Shit.
He’s in trouble.
Because he needs to pass chemistry to play football. And he needs you to pass.
But he can’t ever look you in the eye again after this display.
After one measly compliment.
How will he act if you bend over in front of him?
Or lean over a little too far?
God forbid you touch his arms or brush against him.?
Then a lightbulb goes off.
Yuji has the perfect solution.
He scrambles to clean up. Putting on his street clothes. Ignoring the quizzical looks from his teammates. He’s going to fix his little problem.
“Coach Yaga?” Yuji is met with an open office door and his coach’s nostrils flaring. Vein along his temple pulsing.
He draws in a steadying breath.
“I can’t play football anymore coach. I quit.”
“….YOU WHAT?!?!”
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ginax0916 · 3 months
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✩ 𝐏𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐝 𝐂𝐫𝐚𝐦𝐩 𝐒𝐢𝐦𝐮𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫 ✩
Sturniolo Triplets x bsf!fem!reader
Synopsis: The triplets try a period cramp simulator thinking it’ll be easy.
Warnings: period cramps ig?
*this is js platonic :)*
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“Hey guys welcome back to our YouTube! Today we have our best friend y/n here with us” Nick said as I waved to the camera smiling.
“Tell them what we’re doing today since you’ve been so enthusiastic about making this video” Matt says clearly not happy about the video idea.
“Well if you watched the boys stream the other day, Matt brought up that he bought a period cramp simulator but they’ve refused to use it. So with a little bit of begging and buying Chris a whole box of Pepsis I convinced them to film the video” I laughed excited to see their reactions to it.
“I’m so not excited for this” Chris groaned.
“I honestly don’t think it’s gonna be that bad” Nick says confidently.
“Whatever you say” I say giggling.
“Ok who first?” I ask.
“AHH OH MY GOD” Nick suddenly screams.
“What?” We all say scared from his sudden yelling.
“I searched up how bad period cramps hurt and it says that they can hurt as bad as a heart attack oh my lord” Nick says clearly scared out of his mind.
“Holy fuck” Matts jaw drops.
“Damn bro you gotta go through this shit every month?” Chris asks genuinely concerned.
“Unfortunately” I sigh.
“Alright who first?” I ask again, setting up all the equipment.
“Not it!” Chris screams.
“Not it!!” Nick screams right after him.
“Fuck fuck no” Matt panics.
“Ok come on Matt sit in the chair” I laugh.
“No I can’t I can’t” Matt says as he reluctantly sits in the chair.
“You’ll be fine” I giggle. “Ok lift up your shirt” I say.
“Oooooh it’s getting freaky” Chris says.
“Oh shut up” Nick slaps his arm.
I put the patches on Matt’s stomach and laughed at his flinching every time I put one on.
“Ok are you ready?” I ask him.
“Oh fuck Chris hold my hand” Matt says to Chris who was standing next to me.
“Ok we’ll start easy on level 1” I turn the machine on to the lowest level. Matt’s eyes close for a second and then he breathes out.
“Ok ok not that bad” He sighs.
“Level 2” I say turning the machine up a bit.
“Still not too bad just feels like a Stich” Matt says letting go of Chris’s hand.
“Level 3”
“Ok this one’s got a bit of a kick but not too bad” He breathes out again.
“4”
“Ow fuck this one feels like the type of stomachache you have after having too much hot sauce on something” He says making us all laugh.
“Level 5”
“Level 6”
“AH FUCK FUCK” Matt yells in pain reaching out for Chris’s hand again.
“Level 7”
“Oh my god stop it actually hurts like a bitch” Matt whimpers in pain.
“Someone’s gonna edit that” Nick comments making everyone laugh.
“Level 8”
“Y/n stop holy fucking shit I can’t” He moans in pain again. His head falling back as he closes his eyes.
“Come on get to 10 Matt” I say turning it up to level 9.
“FUCK FUCK FUCK” He moans loudly making his brothers laugh.
“And level 10” I say.
“Oh god. Oh fuck I can’t oh my god” Matt says gripping my arm with one hand and Chris’s hand with his other. Nick stood behind him massaging his shoulders dying of laughter.
“Ah- fuckkk” He whimpers “It hurts so bad fuck” Matt moans.
“How does it feel?” I ask softly.
“Turn it the fuck off oh my god” He moans.
“There you go” I say turning it off.
“Holy shit” He sighs in relief.
“Was it Bad?” Chris questions.
“It was fucking hell” Matt says clutching his stomach.
“Alright who next” I chuckle.
“Chris rock paper scissors shoot” Nick says.
“Ok ok loser goes” Chris states the obvious.
“Rock, Paper, Scissors, Shoot” They play and Nick looses.
“FUCK OFF” Nick screams as get gets in the chair. 
I place the patches on him just like I did with Matt.
“You ready?” I ask.
“Fuck is Turn it up to level 4 straight away it can’t be that bad” Nick says with confidence but also fear.
“Damn Nick alright” I say turning it up to level 4.
“HOLY FUCK OH MY GOD” Nick screams gripping the chair so hard his knuckles look like they might turn white.
“See Nick it is that bad” Matt says laughing.
“Shut up I realize that now” Nick says trying to punch his brother.
“Level 5”
“Fucking hell” Nick groans in pain.
“Level 6”
“JESUS OH MY” He screams again.
“Level 7”
“I hate you for my making me do this oh my god” He moans in pain just like Matt.
“Level 8”
“FUCK FUCK FUCK NO IT HURTS SO BAD” Nick yells stomping his feet on the ground almost making the chair fall back.
“Damn relax you beast you’re gonna break our floor” Chris laughs.
“FUCK IT I CANT” Nick rips off the patches and runs into the living room screaming making everyone die of laughter.
“Oh come on Nick you didn’t even get to 10 I bet I could” Chris says teasing his brother.
“You sure about that Chris?” I say pushing his shoulder with mine.
“Oh I’m sure” He smiles sitting on the chair lifting his shirt up.
“There’s gonna be a shit ton of edits of this” Matt sighs covering his face with his hands.
“I’m looking forward to it” I laugh.
“Ok you ready?” I ask Chris.
“Go for it” He replies, closing his eyes in fear.
“You’re Fine Chris this is only level 1” I say as I turn it on.
“Ok not bad Like Matt Said” he says.
“Level 2” He gets through all the easy levels not making a noise only scrunching his face once in a while. Even on level 4 he barely has a reaction.
“Damn Chris” I say stunned.
“Holy fuck dude I was screaming” Nick says baffled at Chris’s pain tolerance.
“Level 5”
And again no reaction from Chris, only a slight scrunch of his face.
“Bro how” Matt raises his voice flabbergasted at his brother.
“Alright Chris you’re doing a little too good I’m gonna turn it up to 8 which is where Nick gave up” I speak up wanting to see him have a reaction.
“Alright I’m ready” Chris breathes out.
“Ok Level 8” I turn it up.
“Ok fuck fuck this one actually hurts” Chris whimpers and grabs my arm.
“Level 9” I say happy that Chris finally reached a pain limit.
“Oh my god wait this actually hurts -ah fuck” He moans throwing his head back and squeezing my hand harder.
“I’m actually surprised you lasted that long without a reaction Chris” Matt says rubbing his shoulder still surprised.
“And level 10” I turn it up to the max.
“Ah- fuckkkkk it feels like a bunch of pin and needles playing with my intestines” He groans.
“Do you want me to turn it off ?” I ask him.
“No I wanna see how long I can last” Chris says whimpering again.
“That’s what she said” Nick bursts out laughing.
“Shut up Nick” I laugh.
“Oh my godddd -ah shit” Chris squirms in the seat scrunching his face in pain. He moves one of his hand to cover his mouth which is letting out soft moans and whimpers.
“You sound like you’re having an orgasm” Nick points out laughing.
“Shut the fuck up you couldn’t even get to 10” Chris argues.
Matt Starts uncontrollably laughing and rests his head on my shoulder as he laughs.
“You want me to turn it off now?” I ask.
“Fuck yes please oh god-” Chris groans in pain one last time before I turn the device off and take the patches off his stomach.
“I’m never doing that again” He sighs in relief and falls forward to rest on the table.
“I’m actually surprised you lasted that long” I say patting his back.
“That’s what she said” Nick laughs and runs away.
“SHUT UP NICK” Matt screams and chases after him.
“Well thanks for watching the video! Give it 100k likes for a part 2!” I say.
“NO NEVER” I hear them all scream.
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I actually want them to do this video so bad 🙈
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moralesluvr · 1 year
Note
hiiiii can i pls request something where the reader accidentally sends hobie her lingerie pics? or her bikini pics? look at claudia tihan’s instagram pics for what i’m saying. thank you <33
OOPS, WRONG PERSON! | h. brown.
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“no…doesn’t look right.” you sucked your teeth with a frown, picking apart the images you just took of yourself, clicking delete hastily with a sigh. you wanted to like the photo, but the way you were posing wasn’t really to your liking, and you were trying hard to feel confident in the brand new lingerie you had just bought.
you had went out with your girlfriends, browsing throughout the mall as you blew your recent paycheck on clothes and makeup, your knowledge of the repercussions being ignored as you swiftly swiped your card for whatever items your heart desired. it was ecstasy to you, buying things that you actually liked, and you were really starting to crack out of your comfort zone when you found a beautiful lingerie set from victoria’s secret. it was accented with pretty white trimmings, little pink ribbons on the top, the panties silky and comfortable. you purchased the set with no regrets, walking out of that mall with a dirty smile wiped on your face.
posing in front of the mirror now was your biggest challenge. every way your body turned didn’t seem to look right to you, and your frustration started to grow inside of you until an idea sparked in your head.
you dropped to your calves and sat back onto your thighs, hips twisting to the left slightly as you flipped your hair to the side, pouted into the mirror and clicking the photo button.
the picture came out adorable, so you decided to press send to one of your girlfriends so they could see how it looked on you, and that’s when your eyes widened.
sent to my brit boyfriend 🤍.
you gasped, rapidly clicking the message in an attempt to delete it.
you and your lovely boyfriend had only been together a month. it wasn’t that you weren’t comfortable with him seeing you like this, but it was all so soon, and it wasn’t even on purpose. but it was too late, your frantic tapping was deemed useless when you saw that he had read the message, and now he was typing.
he quickly typed back, and your eyes gleamed with embarrassment as you texted him.
my brit boyfriend 🤍; Love, did you mean to send that to me?
you: i’m so sorry hobie….i didn’t mean to send you that, i was trying to send it to one of my girlfriends. you can ignore it.
my brit boyfriend 🤍; You want me to ignore it? I’ll delete it if you didn’t want me to see it, it’s no problem darlin
you: no no, you can keep it if you like it…i don’t mind…i just didn’t mean to send it ugh this is embarrassing
my brit boyfriend 🤍; You look gorgeous..wasn’t gonna say nothin because I didn’t know if you wanted me to, but you look good as shit
you: ☺️ are you serious?? i just bought it & and i didn’t know if it looked nice…
my brit boyfriend 🤍; Thinkin’ it’ll look better on the floor but that’s jus my opinion
you: HOBIE.
my brit boyfriend 🤍; You asked for my opinion and I gave it to ya love, is there a problem?
you: no problem handsome… come over?
my brit boyfriend 🤍; On my way.
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Text
It's Okay To Ask For Help
Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader
Word Count: ~2.4k
Warnings: angst, unwanted touching (grabbing one's ass without permission), creepy men
Summary: Things don’t look good from where you are. You work at a run-down bar, you’re a single mother trying to keep a roof over your head, and you’re trying to give your daughter the childhood she deserves. You don’t see yourself going up from here until reconnect with Spencer Reid.
Square Filled: bartender au (2022) for @spencerreidbingo
Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3
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“Sweetheart! Another round!”
You have to keep the disgust off your face as you pour the man another round of whatever he is drinking. Sweetheartisn’t the worst thing you’ve been called at your job, but it’s the way he said it that has your skin crawling. You slide him the beer and pull your hand away fast enough before he can reach out and touch you. He grabs his beer and goes back to talking to his friend but keeps one eye on you.
You move to the other patrons of the bar and push the creepy man out of your mind. It’s not that you hate this job, you hate the people that come in. You’re the only female bartender which warrants unwanted attention from men nearly twice your age. Your boss isn’t any better as he usually lets this type of behavior slide, but at least he doesn’t try to touch you every hour.
The alcohol is running low so you step off to the side to grab some more while your coworker mans the bar. You walk into the back and bend over to grab two bottles when you feel someone press against your ass.
“Damn, baby, I have been thinking about this ass ever since I stepped foot in the bar.”
You stand up so fast that you would have gotten dizzy if it hadn’t been for the stranger groping your ass.
“Get your hands off me!” You turn and push the man away. “You’re not even supposed to be back here!”
“Come on, darling, just give me ten minutes of your time. I promise to make it worth your while.”
You’d slap him if you thought that would keep him away from you. Fucker probably likes that shit.
“No! Get the fuck out of here!”
You’re loud enough to cause your boss to enter the back room, and you look at him with wide eyes that have tears threatening to spill out.
“What’s going on here?”
“Sorry, man, I was trying to find the bathroom.”
“It’s the other hallway,” your boss points.
“Right. Thanks, man.”
You don’t wait for the door to fully close before talking to your boss.
“That man was lying. He came in here and grabbed my ass! I want him thrown out of the bar!”
“Whoa, calm down. That man has paid a lot of money tonight. I’m not going to just throw him out,” your boss sighs.
“He grabbed my ass. Don’t you care that he assaulted me?”
“Don’t be overdramatic. I’m sure he was just looking for the bathroom and accidentally knocked into you.” Your mouth opens. You can’t believe your ears. “Kevin is getting swamped out there. Get the alcohol and get back to work.”
You stay in the back room and cry for the next ten minutes. You’d quit if you didn't need this job. You have a daughter at home to support, and her father is only doing the minimum to help you. The court ordered him to pay you a thousand dollars a month for child support, and that barely covers your rent. You still have to work long hours just to put food on your table. You can’t afford to lose this job because no other place will hire you.
You’ve applied for other places and have even gotten an interview once, but nothing ever came of it. It’s like they back out as soon as they hear you’re a bartender at this bar, or the fact that you’ve got tattoos that you can’t exactly cover up with normal clothes. You don’t have any on your face or neck, but you do have some on your hands and chest. Darren, your boss, only hired you because of the way you look in a crop top--at least that’s what you believe.
You wipe your tears and join Kevin behind the bar to continue as if nothing ever happened. The man is gone but that only; means two more people just like him replace him. The only thing getting you through this shift is the fact that your sister is kind enough to watch Delilah until you get off at five in the morning. She’s agreed to the arrangement since she leaves for work around the same time you get off.
You’re saving what you can even if it’s only fifty bucks a paycheck, but it’s not nearly as much as you’d hope. Something needs to change or else you’ll drown in pain.
The rest of the shift goes by relatively smoothly, and you leave just as the sun is peeking over the horizon. You drive to your sister’s house where she is getting her lunch ready for work. Her husband is already out of the house since he’s a contractor and works before the sun is out, and Delilah is still in her pajamas watching cartoons in the living room.
“Hey, are you okay?” she asks.
“No. Just a rough night, I guess.”
“You really should look into getting another job.”
“Yeah, I know,” you sigh. “Are you ready, Delilah?”
“Yes, Mommy!”
You leave with your daughter and head back home where you get her ready for school. You drive her to the bus stop and watch as she gets on. After the bus has left, you manage to make it home without crying. As soon as you step through the door, the waterworks are in full effect. Once that dam has been opened, it’s hard to close them. After a quick shower, you crawl into bed to try and get some sleep. You don’t have blackout curtains so the light still shines through the dark curtains, allowing you to see all the artwork you’ve hung on the walls.
You’re a good artist but you can never make any money off it. If you could, you’d be doing that full-time instead of bartending to a bunch of assholes. You manage to fall asleep until three when you leave to pick Delilah up from school. Your shift starts at seven in the evening so you have a little time to spend with your daughter before dropping her off at your sister’s.
“How was school, baby?”
“Good! I got to sit next to Lily today. Her and her Daddy are going to the fish zoo this weekend. Can we go?”
You chuckle at what she calls an aquarium. Your smile is lost when you think about Lily and who her dad is.
“You mean Lily Reid?”
“Yeah. Can we go? Pretty please?”
“Sure, baby. That sounds fun.”
You’ll have to work a double in order to pay for it, but you’ll do it if it means giving your daughter a normal childhood. Back before you had your daughter, you used to live right next door to a man named Spencer Reid. You two were joined at the hip and did everything together, often spending the night in each other’s apartments to keep each other company. You never did figure out how you felt about him until he left for the FBI academy.
By then, it was too late. You haven’t seen him since.
There are rare times when you see Spencer drop his daughter off at school before he goes to work, but you hear about him more than you see him. Delilah and Lily have a lot of after-school playdates at your sister’s house when you have to go to work early or need a bit more sleep, so you hear about Spencer from your sister. She knows about the two of you and often tells you about how he’s doing. She’s rooting for the both of you even though you don’t think he’d be interested in you now.
It was rough work but you managed to make it to the weekend without too much of a problem. Kevin agreed to take your shift on Saturday so that you can spend it with your daughter, and you agreed to take his Monday so he can have at least two days off in a row.
“Come on, Mommy!”
Delilah practically drags you into the aquarium hoping that Lily is there waiting for her. Spencer and Lily aren’t there yet so you two decide to wait in the large waiting area. The place is a large glass tunnel where you have an unobstructed view of every sea creature swimming by. Due to the excess water, the entire room has a blue hue to it. Delilah is mesmerized by the animals and runs over to the glass to press her face into it. You’re kind of nervous at seeing Spencer after all this time because you finally figured out how you felt about him after he left.
You were in love with him… you might still be.
You take out your phone and take pictures of her posing in front of the animals and some when she’s not even paying attention. She looks to the right and squeals when she sees her best friend.
“Lily!!”
You watch the two little girls run and hug each other, and your eyes lock on Spencer’s. Seven years apart but it feels like no time has passed when you look into his eyes. The girls go off to explore while still being close enough to you and Spencer.
“It’s been a long time. How have you been?” you ask.
“Still in the FBI and catching bad guys.”
“That’s so cool to be in the FBI.”
“Not as cool as you might think. How have you been? What are you up these days?”
“Bartending at the moment. Remember Skull Bar?”
Spencer stops walking and looks at you in shock. “You’re still bartending here? Didn’t you hate that place?”
He must remember the nights when you’d come home crying because you hated how you were treated by sleazy customers.
“I still do, but what am I going to do? I have Delilah to support, and it’s not like her father is helping much. I should ask for more since he is making a lot of money, but I haven’t had time to go to the courts.” You two continue walking after both of your daughters. “I miss living next to you.”
That’s your way of telling him you miss him dearly even if he doesn’t pick up on it.
“You know, the apartment next to mine just opened up. You two can move there. I know Lily would love it.”
It hurts knowing your lives would be much better staying at a place that doesn’t have broken appliances, but how will you ever afford it? You can barely afford the dump you live in now.
“Spencer, it’s a nice thought but it’s not like I can afford it. I make good tips but bartending barely puts food on my table. I can barely afford the twenty-five hundred dollar rent I have now. Apartments in the city cost a lot more. I appreciate the offer, though.”
“Are you still drawing? I remember you always making me something. You were and probably still are incredible.”
“Some but it doesn’t pay the bills, so I had to put it on the back burner.”
“You’re talented enough to make it a career.”
“Well, when you know of a job that will benefit me, let me know.”
Spencer nods in thought and you two continue to walk after your kids in silence. His phone rings and he steps off to the side to take the call while still following the girls. You look at Spencer and admire him without him knowing about it. He’s grown a lot since you last saw him not only physically but mentally. He must have been through a lot of shit to have that faraway look in his eyes.
He ends the call ten minutes later and walks back over to you. Lily and Delilah are busy petting the sting rays which will give you another twenty before they’re ready to move on.
“I’m going to say something, and I don’t want you to shut it down immediately. I want you to think about it,” Spencer says.
“Okay…”
“My team is looking for a sketch artist, and I know you’d be perfect for the job. You have the skill. It pays well, better than bartending, and the benefits are so much better. You and Delilah would be taken care of.”
You gasp at the thought of finally leaving that shit hole, but you remember the promise you made Spencer. You bite your lower lip to prevent yourself from denying it. After two minutes of thinking about it, you release your bottom lip.
“What do you think I’d say to that?”
“That you’re not a charity case and you don’t need help.” He’s right. You would have said that. “Just think about it. Think about Delilah. It’s still within the school’s boundaries so she doesn’t have to switch.”
You look at Delilah and Lily who are laughing from the water the sting rays are splashing. This job would offer you a more normal schedule and allow you to spend more time with her. You’d be able to provide her with a better childhood.
“Your office is on the other side of town from where I live. My car isn’t that great.”
“I know of a place a lot closer,” he smirks.
“Is this a ploy to get me to move in next to you?”
He shakes his head with a smile. “Sometimes people need help, and it’s okay to ask for help. That doesn’t make you a bad mom or a bad person. It makes you strong because you’re doing it to get better.”
Tears well in your eyes at the opportunity being presented to you. You don’t hesitate to give him your answer.
“I’ll take it.”
You pull Spencer in for a hug and wrap your arms around his neck. Spencer wraps his arms around your waist and closes his eyes from the feeling of you being back in his arms. You pull away from him but don’t step away from him. He glances down at your lips wanting to kiss you but not wanting to overstep.
“You owe me ten bucks,” Lily says loud enough for you two to hear. “Look at them. They’re gonna kiss. I told you bringing them here was a good idea.”
You giggle at the thought of both of your daughters being little masterminds. Well, if money is on the table, you better make Lily ten bucks richer. You lean up and kiss Spencer, finally feeling like everything is right in the world.
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qwimblenorrisstan · 2 months
Text
Insufficient Pt. 2 | Azriel x Reader
Summary: Following the disastrous breakup between you and Azriel, Nesta invites you out to a night at Rita’s, where you then discover that you might not be as safe in Night Court as you think.
Word Count: ~ 4.3k
Warnings: Stalkings, nasty public bathrooms, alcohol, drunk people, obsessive behavior, painfully bad description of blackjack, etc
A/N: ok so I kinda switched gears with this one, I’m trying to flesh it out before introducing another man, but lmk if you liked it, or if you have any opinion on where you’d like it to go, hope you enjoy <3
Requests are open!
Previous | Masterlist | Next
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Only a week had passed since the disastrous breakup between you and Azriel, and as it turns out, it was harder to get rid of him than you’d originally thought.
Beforehand, he’d always seemed so controlled and stoic, that even being one of the main problems in your relationship was that he couldn’t ever let go of control. Being in charge meant he felt safe and secure, regardless of his feelings.
He had always seemed almost above you at times, above groveling and begging in bed, above communicating his feelings and emotions normally as he just expected you to read his mind or moods despite the way he hid any kernel of emotion from his body language. However, all of that seemed to have changed.
After the breakup, you’d gone back to working in the bakery, working specifically in the back making bread with your family, so you wouldn’t have to see him when he came in, probably trying to hunt you down. The heat the ovens gave off also seemed to repel his shadows, for whatever reason, so they wouldn’t spy on you any more than they already had. Though he had come asking for you before at the counter, your family had always shut him down. You felt bad about it for a second, but thinking back, you also didn’t. He’d chosen his words, and he was only sorry because you were his mate.
You’d moved back into the family home for now, your relatives surrounding you in love and empathy, and plenty of righteous fury regarding Azriel, and even a few “I told you so.”’s from the older generations.
Nesta would come by to visit now and then, having tea with you and updating you on all the latest news and developments, if not just funny stories to bring your spirits up, such as Nyx swallowing an ancient coin that he got from Rhys’ desk, only to poop it out shiny and clean a few days later, or how Cassian got so drunk he jumped from the top of the townhouse into a nearby pool that belonged to a neighbor.
On the bad days, she would offer some quiet company, or even open up to you about similar things that happened to her in the past.
Specifically, her past relationship.
She didn’t give a name, simply the details that he was a poor man’s family, his father abused his mother, and he was no better. She only was going to marry him to let Feyre take better care of Elain, really, even if it ended up with her getting beaten by some pathetic man. And then she told you of the night she rejected him, and tried to break it off, and how she almost barely got away before he could take what wasn’t his.
You both sat in silence after that, your hand in hers.
Eventually, though, the conversation continued. You told her of the flowers that would mysteriously appear on your windowsill each morning. Neither of you knew how Azriel knew what room you occupied in your family’s home, or even how he knew your address or favorite type of flower, Ditch Lily’s, but he knew. Or the letters you received nightly, always carried by some bird of prey to your window, and would leave it there.
She snorted when you told her about the letters.
“He’s being ridiculous, seriously, even Cassian isn’t that bad. He only cares because you’re his mate, not because of who you actually are, and until he gets his shit together I wouldn’t even open them.”
She said, taking a sip of the herbal tea your mother had prepared for both of you. It was a special recipe, one that some of your distant relatives in Autumn Court had created, originally meant to relieve muscle tension and stress from overuse of magic, and even assist in alleviating burnout. You were mildly convinced that there might be some healer blood in you, because of that half of the family.
You could’ve sworn you felt a tiny tug on the bond at the mention of Azriel.
“I know, I’ve just been burning them, but he won’t leave me alone. Every shadow feels like they’re watching me now, and I just…”
You sighed, trailing off as your hand went to rub the bridge of your nose, and she gave a hum of acknowledgment, finishing your sentence for you.
“Don’t feel safe in the one place that you used to only feel safe in?”
You glanced up, eyes widening a bit. That was precisely how you felt.
“Yes, how..?”
She took another sip of her tea, glancing over to the window and looking out of it, eyes almost glazing over as some memory must’ve come to light.
“Beneath the House of Wind is the library, though I’m sure you’ve already heard of it. The priestesses stayed there, and it was always quiet, and something about it made me feel…safe, even when I was in an unfamiliar body in new surroundings, the world in the middle of a war.”
She said, and you nodded, waiting for her to go on. You knew plenty of the library beneath the House of Wind and how massive it was.
“One night, me and Feyre both descended nearly to the bottom, for what I can barely remember, and there were two twin males. Sent by Hybern, I think. They were taken out before they could do any harm, but the damage was still done. It took me quite a while to think of the library as a safe space after that.”
The glaze in her eyes faded away as she took another sip of her tea, looking more relaxed than before. She looked over at you, her eyes meeting yours.
“How did you get it back like that? A safe place, I mean.”
You then asked, and she looked away for a moment to think, a common habit of hers. One you’d noticed by now. Always noticing things, something you must’ve learned from Azriel, and as much as you hated the reminder of him, it was useful regardless.
“Changing environments helped me. During and after the war, we were always traveling a lot, which forced me to appreciate the thought of home more. Then again, home was also linked with Cassian for me.”
She said, thinking aloud before eventually speaking again.
“I’d try moving around a bit. Exercise helped me, especially travel and hiking, or breathing exercises. I could teach you a few if you’d like?”
She offered. You would be a fool to refuse any sort of advice or help from Nesta Archeron, and she’d never led you astray before, so you nodded, and she smiled brightly, clearly happy to show you.
The next few hours were spent in the backyard on whatever flat surface there was, practicing impossibly stretched that seemed like whoever made them wanted to turn you into a pretzel. Nesta managed them just fine but didn’t laugh when you fell, only helped you back up, telling you all about how when she’d first started training with Cassian, it had been just as hard for her too.
She’d even outright refused to do it the first few times.
However, after that, she showed you cool-down exercises and helped you practice breathing techniques.
“Wait, so…I hold it for how long?”
You asked, and she held back a giggle at the sheer confusion in your tone as she answered.
“Twenty seconds, but you can-“
“TWENTY??”
At that, she burst out laughing, and before you knew it you were laughing too, both of you laying back on the grass of the yard and hoping none of the seasonal bugs crawled up onto you. She finally sat up a moment later, wiping tears from her eyes as she stood and helped you up.
“Build up from five, you can start at five seconds and build up, is what I was going to say.”
She said, and you sighed.
“And I thought I was in shape before.”
You said in an amused tone, and she snorted again, only for the both of you to look over where you heard another loud snort and see Cassian standing, leaning against a large tree in the backyard. He was grinning widely as ever, his eyes full of pure glee.
“Having fun without me, ladies?”
He asked, putting a hand over his heart in a dramatic expression as he rolled his eyes, acting fatally wounded.
“Honestly, I’m hurt-“
He wasn’t able to finish his sentence before you barreled into him, giving him a tight hug that he chuckled at and returned, ruffling your hair. Nesta was soon to follow, and hugging him in a much more elegant manner than you.
When you finally separated, you spoke.
“Gods, I’ve missed you. We should let him come to tea time, too, Nesta.”
You said with a grin, and Nesta rolled her eyes playfully, squeezing his bicep. A tiny twinge of jealousy seemed to echo down the bond, as if Azriel had seen you hugging Cassian, and didn’t appreciate it. Another tug on the bond that you shut out, now hyper aware of any shadows.
“You’d be surprised at how much of a gossip he is, it’s never-ending with the Devlon-rumors.”
She said, and his expression shifted to playfully offended as he swatted at Nesta’s hand. You giggled, and Nesta glanced over at you, before gaining a thoughtful expression.
“We could do Rita’s tonight if you could make it?”
She asked, and Cassian gave a little nod as if also agreeing with this. You didn’t have any plans tonight, so why not spend a night out with your friends? It would certainly help you get your mind off of things.
“Sure, what time?”
You asked, head cocked slightly to the side. Nesta shrugged.
“Is 6 good for you?”
She asked, and you nodded in confirmation. She gave you one last smile before Cassian scooped her up to fly away.
“See you tonig-“
Her words were cut off with a little shriek as Cassian launched into the air at maximum speed just to spook her like he always did, and you giggled to yourself, heading back inside the family home. Unbeknownst to you, a shadowy figure lurked behind that tree after Cassian left, watching.
To be fair, the shifts were switched out now and then so everyone had a break, but he usually ended up babysitting. Despite his objections and complaints, he was good at it, sort of a baby-whisperer.
“Who was that pretty lady?”
He asked, a slight touch of color on his cheeks as you smirked with a knowing look.
“That was my friend, Nesta. She’s taken.”
You clarified for him, noticing the way his face fell in disappointment all too clearly before you patted your baby cousin on the head, and walked up to your temporary room. Maybe Nesta’s idea of traveling a bit and exploring different places was good. You had all of immortality ahead of you, after all. Might as well use it well.
You walked to your room, before going to the bathroom attached to it. You were more than lucky to get a room with a bathroom attached, and you knew it, since everyone bickered over who got to shower first and who had been in there too long for the normal bathroom in the hall. Stripping your clothes off, you turned the water on, letting it settle to a warm, but refreshing temperature.
You went through your entire hair routine and washed your body off, shaving and everything. Tonight was an everything shower. You wanted to look your best at Rita’s tonight, and you desperately needed a confidence boost after what Azriel had said to you.
Nearly half an hour later, your hair done all pretty, makeup on, and a pretty red dress gracing your form. You’d even painted your nails yourself, forgoing the usual stylist you went to for it.
By the time 6 had rolled around, you were almost to Rita’s, walking down the bustling streets of Velaris as the cool air blew by, the sun already beginning to set as early as it did in this season.
The moment you walked into the bar, already full of people, it only took a few seconds to spot Nesta and Cassian inside. Cassian was drinking and laughing his ass off with some other males, and doing arm wrestling that he never seemed to lose at, and Nesta was playing poker, and by the looks of it had already won a few games before based on the sly smile she wore.
You walked over and ordered your drink, nothing too strong, and decided that you could take a little time away from Nesta for now. You couldn’t help but feel a little guilty, considering she’d been listening to all of your problems every time she’d come over. It was probably best if you gave her a little alone time for herself.
Walking over to a table to try your hand at what looked like a boring game of blackjack, you were about to sit down when something captured your attention.
A lone shadow lurking beneath your feet.
You swallow, getting a weird feeling about it, but you simply stomped one foot down on it before sitting down, determined not to let something so small ruin this night for you. The cards were dealt, and you received a queen of spades and eight of clubs, and as the game progressed, you took risks, choosing to hit, and somehow miraculously not going over 21 the entire time. You felt the lightest tug on the bond, but ignored it.
It was mildly suspicious, considering how bad you usually were at cards. That was until you spied the same wispy shadow from earlier on the deck of cards, hiding in the normal shadow of it. It was discreetly moving cards, changing them for you to win.
Now incredibly annoyed, you excused yourself from the game and walked to the bathroom. Rita’s bathrooms weren’t extremely clean, but you just needed a place to take a breather.
You pushed the door open, not surprised by the few females in here who were either redoing their makeup or drunk out of their minds and crying. Oddly enough, though, they filed out almost as soon as you entered, some giving you off looks as you entered one of the stalls, sliding the lock closed, and sat on top of the toilet seat, pulling your knees to your chest.
Sure, things were weird tonight, but it was probably just Azriel trying to play mind games with you. He was a Spymaster. His entire job revolves around torturing information out of people and playing mental gymnastics to get what he wants from them. You wouldn’t be surprised if he was now hyper-fixated on you, determined to get you back if only to feel better about himself.
You heard the bathroom door open, barely creaking as the lightest footsteps became apparent to you. Probably another drunk woman, or someone looking to fix their makeup or outfit. Nothing out of the usual, you told yourself, even as your body began stiffening and your heart rate sped up. A lock clicked. The bathroom door.
You couldn’t get a decent whiff of the stranger, whether it be the alcohol or the reek of the bathroom in and of itself. Not daring to open up the stall or peek out, you became still as a statue.
Nearly silent footsteps.
A knob creaked, probably the sink, and water began running at its maximum speed.
Another sink turned on.
Then another.
Until all the sinks were on.
Your heart began beating faster. Why would anyone turn all the sinks on, if not to cover up the noise of something else, or someone else making loud noises?
Louder, bolder footsteps in your stall’s direction.
Glancing down beneath the door, you could see a pair of thick, black leathery boots now standing in front of it. You recognized those. How could you not?
A certain shadowsinger’s shoes. His work shoes.
You didn’t dare move, even as you heard a knock against the stall. It would’ve seemed polite in any other situation, but not here, not now.
“I know you’re in there.”
His quiet voice spoke, still filled with that tension you’d seen in his eyes the day you’d decided to finally break free of him.
He knocked again.
“I’m sorry for what I said, I shouldn’t have said that, if you would please, please, just give me another chance, I’ve been trying to talk with you for days but you were busy, and when I saw you here tonight, I thought that maybe we could talk this out-“
He said, voice filled with pleading and desperation as he rambled on. You’d never heard him express so much emotion before in his voice. It was interrupted by the bathroom door almost being opened, despite it being locked. A bang on the door, and Nesta’s muffled voice was heard through the door.
“Bullshit, I’m getting a worker..”
Azriel must’ve known he had limited time now, because he banged on the stall door louder, a bit more panicked.
“Please, just open the door. I’m sorry, just let me in. We can figure this out.”
He said, now shaking the stall door with the handle, and you didn’t dare move. Didn’t speak, didn’t do anything other than sit and pray to whatever gods you believed in. The Mother. The Cauldron. Anything. Whatever would make him go away. You had known the respectful, kind Azriel. The one that had waited centuries for Mor and not pushed anything, even when she openly went to other males and pushed him away. The one who wouldn’t push any boundary, but this Azriel…you didn’t know him.
The jingling of keys outside the bathroom door was heard, the worker Nesta must’ve called, and a frustrated sigh came from the voice outside your stall.
You could almost see it now, him angrily running his hands through his inky black hair, shadows swirling and writhing in agitation as he tried to think on how to fix this.
“You can’t hide from me forever, you’re just confused right now. I will get you back.”
He spoke finally, before the bathroom door burst open, and his presence was completely gone. You released a shaky breath, not daring to move still, even as the worker cursed and began turning all the sinks off.
“Haven’t seen it that jammed in a long time,”
She muttered, walking out eventually, you unlocked the stall door when you felt alone, only to swing it open and Nesta to pop into your vision. You almost screamed, jolting backward and slamming your head into a wall. She raised her hands in mock innocence.
“Easy, it’s just me. I figured you might be in here when I couldn’t find you, and…..”
She looked you up and down, noticing how shaken and pale you seemed, and frowned. Tilting her head sideways, she asked the obvious.
“What’s wrong with you?”
You looked all around the bathroom, finding no sign of him anywhere, no moving shadows or dark presences.
“He was here, Nesta. He kept begging me to come out and—I don’t know what he would’ve done if you hadn’t shown up.”
You said, tears welling up before falling as you began sobbing. She frowned deeper, now scowling as she pulled you against her chest, worry filling her expression.
“It’s alright, I’ll take you home.”
She said, helping walk you out of the bathroom, and as she passed by Cassian she grabbed the big Illyrian by the ear and dragged him out of the bar, outside with fresh air. Cassian immediately looked concerned, brows furrowed, but one look from Nesta was enough for him to nod grimly as his expression darkened, the two of them no doubt communicating mentally as most mates did.
He scooped the both of you up, and despite the alcohol in his system, managed a decent flight to your house. He gave you a pat on the head before Nesta walked you inside, and as soon as the two of you were in the privacy of your room, she spoke.
“Look, I’ll tell Rhys to keep an eye on him, but it’s not like Azriel will listen to anything Rhys orders him to do regarding…this. Just…be careful.”
She said in a hushed tone, and you nodded weakly.
“I can’t stay here. Not when he’s..watching and following me.”
Nesta gave a little nod, as she understood, but she still looked concerned. She was friends with Azriel, you knew as much, but even this was pushing it.
“I have family in Autumn, I could go find them.”
You suggested, and she sighed.
“You do realize he could just have one of his shadows follow you? Unless you left without telling anyone, then…”
The both of you shared a glance, and in a moment, understood what you needed to do to get away. A stalker problem wasn’t one that you thought you would have, but Azriel was obsessive and possessive, even after you’d thrown out all the flowers he’d left, and burnt all the letters you’d given him. He wouldn’t stop at anything, no matter what boundaries you tried to set.
You dragged the duffel bag out from under your bed, the same one you had used to pack your things the day you’d left and began shoving clothes into it, clothes that would suit a few days of travel in the wilderness. You nearly tore your dress off, shoving dark clothing that covered almost every bit of your skin.
If you headed through the main routes of the Court traveling system, Azriel could easily find you. The mating bond would only make it easier from there.
Nesta began helping, choosing clothes from your closet that she deemed acceptable and neatly arranging everything in the duffel bag.
“Are you going to tell your family?”
She asked quietly, and you sighed.
“My grandmother, she’d understand. She fled Autumn when she was younger, some long story about escaping a lover from the royal family.”
You said as you continued packing, and hurried down the stairs. Everyone was asleep this late, except for your grandmother for her nightly tea session. She was sitting in the living room, sipping away, and her eyes shifted to you. Despite her young form, her eyes were old and carried a wisdom you couldn’t explain.
“Grandma, I can’t explain, but-“
“You need to leave, I understand. Under the stairs, there is food. I expected this. Find your great aunt in Autumn.”
That made you pause for a moment, eyes widening, a little twinkle in her eye, and a small mischievous smirk made its way onto her face as she saw your confusion.
“I am not nearly as oblivious as you think I am, now go. Time is of the essence.”
She said, making a little waving motion, and you hurried off to find the little place under the stairs, opening the tiny area beneath it through the small cabinet door, rations were stashed there just like she’d said. You grabbed them, and hurried back up the stairs, and walking into your room you shoved it into the now-full duffle bag and zipped it up. Nesta gave you a confused look when she saw all the pre-prepared food you somehow had, but you only shrugged and she moved on.
“You’re going to need a way to travel, it’ll be thousands of miles to Autumn.”
She said, and you sighed, looping your arm through the handles of the duffle bag and throwing it over your shoulder as you hurried down the steps again, trying to be quiet for the sake of your sleeping family.
Nesta followed you out of the front door as you shut it, Cassian still standing outside, quietly watching with that same grim look on his face as you hopped your neighbor's fence, running across the mass of property they had in the backyard, straight to the small horse stables they had. You went in and opened the first one you could find, a dark-colored mare with a splotchy white stripe down her face, and some white near her hooves.
Pulling the winter coat off of her the gentlest you could, you scrambled to find a bridle that fit the mare as she stomped nervously, and you eventually found one and slipped it on, the horse not seeming eager to get the bit in its mouth, even though you managed to get it in.
Nesta caught up with you and glanced from you to the horse.
“You are crazy.”
She said though she had a slight smirk as she said it. You sighed, grabbing the reins and leading the mare outside of its stall, and you glanced over to Nesta.
“Give me a leg up?”
You asked with a small attempt at a grin, and she sighed, shaking her head in fond exasperation as she held her hands out for you to put your foot in, and you did, and she counted down from three before hoisting you up over the horse.
The large animal did not seem happy about that, either. But despite its protests, and the fact that you were riding it bareback because taking care of a bridle, saddle, stirrups and more was probably more than you could handle, you managed.
“Tell Rhys to ignore anyone complaining of a missing horse for me, will you?”
You said with that weak little half-grin, and she returned it.
“Sure, I can manage that.”
She said in an amused tone.
A moment of silence passed, before she swallowed, and spoke.
“Be careful. Don’t get yourself killed.”
She said, and you nodded, laughing softly.
“I won’t. Once I’m..safe, I’ll figure out a way to let you know. I promise.”
The inky mark of your oath spread around both of your wrists, reminding you of the promise. You didn’t know how you’d tell her without anyone else, or a specific shadowsinger catching wind of where you were, but you would figure it out.
The wind blew by, and you swallowed again.
“Well…I guess this is goodbye.”
“For now.”
She replied, and you nodded.
“For now.”
And with that, she gave a single nod and began walking back over to Cassian, who offered a dip of his head in goodbye. You gently nudged the horse with your foot, gathering up the reigns, and it jolted forward, taking any excuse to run wild after being cooped up in a stall for so long.
It hopped the fence easily, despite how you almost fell off and began bounding off before you adjusted it Southeast, where you would skirt the boundaries of Night Court, and then head to Autumn.
Into Autumn, where freedom loomed, and into Autumn, where the threat of more than just your self-discovery loomed as well.
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mcondance · 1 year
Text
come close; hobie brown
getting high and talking about anarchy with some old 90's shit playing is a crazy way to fall for someone. but it happens.
pairing hobie brown x Black!afab!fem! reader
contents lots of weed, different terms for weed (mary jane, cess), talks of killing politicians (y’all r both anarchists so.), masturbation (both you and hobie), making out, fingering, riding, missionary, mating press, creampie, unprotected sex (they're horny man dwbi), dirty talk, cervix kissing, lotsssss of praise, porn with plot (sorry i love plot 🙏🏾)
words 4.7k.. back on my longer fic shit!
warnings reader wears lipgloss, barely proofread so if you see any mistakes pls shoot me an ask!, umm i use the n word once!, i’m also,, not that great at writing his voice yet so.. hope it’s at least sorta accurate :3
extras the form i wrote this in is kinda,, unique igs but it flows rlly well i feel.
song shoutouts special thanks to lipstick lover by janelle monae, come close by common and mary j. blige, and green eyes by erykah badu!
signing off happy father’s day to hobie 🫶🏾
not quite plug!hobie, but hobie who always has weed, who you smoke with the first time you buy from him.
you usually don’t smoke with randoms, but you hear some old 90's rap playing from inside his car, and he invites you in when you comment on it.
"what you know bout this?" you ask with a smile.
"a lot, actually. you wanna smoke and listen?"
not quite plug!hobie who's fine as fuck as he sits opposite you in his ride, tall and darkskin with cool ass hair. wild ass accent and even wilder style, but he makes it work. his music taste adds on to his overall allure.
but his political views? god. the charm in the shape of a little 'a' surrounded by a circle hanging from his mirror lets you know that he ain't like these other niggas.
he's an anarchist. so far, you're the only anarchist you know. it's so rare to find someone who has the same values as you.
not quite plug!hobie who's car you leave with music recs clumsily typed into your notes, and someone to talk about politics with, though you're too shy to text the pretty boy with the good weed, so you're sure it'll never happen.
not quite plug!hobie who texts you when you get home to make sure you arrived safely.
"driving while high ain't safe, ya know? you at home?"
"i've done it before. i made it home."
not quite plug!hobie who's so nice to you, complimenting your outfits and hair, even noticing when you meet him the 3rd time with a new style.
not quite plug! hobie who you find out has been giving you discounts when your friends ask if you ever bought from him after their recommendation, and you run them in on the details. you think it’s just cause y’all smoked the first time you ever bought from him and you bonded over political views and music. you don’t think nothing else of it.
not quite plug!hobie who you find yourself thinking about more and more often, ever since that first time y'all smoked together.
not quite plug!hobie who finds himself in the same predicament.
not quite plug!hobie who answers the door on your 6th buy in a pair of red sweats and a tight white t-shirt that hugs his lanky frame, hair tied up with a blue shoe string. he invites you into his crib, citing reasons of having no one else to talk to about his views with. after all, it's the first time you both have time to sit and talk and listen to music instead of a quick deal since that first time.
not quite plug!hobie who you get faded as fuck with, this time sharing a joint on his janky couch, heavy hands brushing against each other with each pass. he tries to ignore the aching in his very core every time you speak your mind, your aligning politics driving him crazy.
you mirror him, shaking off the.. arousal?.. no, it can't be. you can't be getting all heated just cause a man is an anarchist. whatever. just ignore it.
not quite plug!hobie who laughs when you tell him straight up, “people aren’t killing politicians anymore. that’s our fuckin’ problem.”
"really? you're wild. but i get it."
"course you do." you nod, taking another drag of the joint. erykah badu's "green eyes" is playing quietly in the background of your convo. hobie starts laughing.
"what?" you smile.
"song's called green eyes, right? well we got red eyes." it's corny and wouldn't be funny if you two weren't high as shit, but you are high as shit, so it's fucking hilarious.
not quite plug!hobie who's eyes linger on you as he pulls laugh after laugh out of your chest with his snarky little jokes.
not quite plug!hobie who walks you to your car after your smoke session, telling you to get home safely. he passes out after his head hits the bed, that after smoke sleep being some of the best he's ever had. he tries to chase you out of his mind as he succumbs to the cess.
not quite plug!hobie who lights a joint and then pulls his dick out the next day, hard and heavy, and strokes it thinking about his pretty little client— friend? whatever — hips stuttering as he wraps his hand around his thick base. he's tried to shake you off, went all day distracting himself with this and that, but it's not working.
not quite plug!hobie who cums in white spurts splattering on his chest to the thought of making you cum in a room filled with smoke, some old r&b playin as he dicks you down the way he's been wanting to since the first time your pretty ass came to him asking for some weed. he wants you bent over on the end of his bed, eyes low and red while he fills you up and fucks you good, gives you his dick like he feels you so rightfully deserve.
not quite plug!hobie who you seriously can't stop thinking of. last night's smoke session has you on edge, so you light another joint, but weed always gets you horny, so when you slip your fingers into your panties and touch yourself to the thought of the pretty darkskin boy with the piercings and cool hair pushing his fat cock into your pretty hole, you blame it on the mary jane sitting pretty in your veins.
the fault lies in the mary jane for making you think about him laid on top of you, talking you through it as he damn near kisses your cervix, his wiry hands roaming your body. the fault lies in the mary jane for having your legs shaking, imagining your pretty plug folding you in half and ruining you, leaving you and your cunt sore and satisfied and dripping his cum.
not quite plug!hobie who cleans up while telling himself that he can't do this again, that you're not interested in him.
not quite plug!hobie who you block out of your mind as you shower. what you did wasn't right. it won't happen again.
not quite plug!hobie who you don’t buy from for a minute, cause you’re trying to stop smoking so much, for a while. you still keep in contact with him, though. daily texts, funny memes, and of course talks of anarchy. one day, you call him “bee” instead of hobie, and it sticks. he likes it.
not quite plug!hobie… who you fuck yourself to again, this time slipping three fingers inside your greedy cunt to satiate the need for him. it’s almost every night, and it’s a different fantasy every time. 
in the backseat of his car, bent over on his counter, pressed into his couch cushions. your head pressing into your pillows while visions of hobie’s lips pressed to your ear praising you endlessly for being his good girl and taking him so well torment you. you’re insatiable, but when you text you have to pretend like you don’t want his piercing scraping against your clit as he eats you like a man starved.
not quite plug!hobie who has the same dilemma as you.. he can’t even go a couple of hours without growing hard in his sweats, glimpses of you spread out on his bed with your thighs thrown over his shoulders, or you face down ass up, sobbing in pure ecstasy. it’s not made better by y’all’s constant texting, more and more of your personality being revealed to him each day.
you both share one brain, really. and that one brain finds each other attractive, of course, but it’s not just that. it’s not just pure lust. you two have more in common than anyone you’ve ever met, and that sinks ache and want so deep into you that every night and day is spent trying to rid yourselves of it.
not quite plug!hobie who you buy from again almost two weeks later, two weeks that were filled with funny conversations and deep discussions of politics through text. two weeks that solidify the growing feelings you have for each other. this time, he’s wearing a pair of blue sweats and a tight black tee, and his hair is tied up just like the first time you came to his house. this time, brandy’s playing throughout his crib.
you’ve only known each other for about two months, but it feels like longer, for the both of you. you take your seat on the couch as he grabs his stash and his papers, pulling out one paper to roll up.
not quite plug!hobie who sits a little bit closer than he did last time. he smells good. your head is swimming already. 
not quite plug!hobie who lights up and then lets you take the first hit, watching you wrap your glossy lips around the joint like he doesn’t wish they were wrapped around his dick instead. you pass the joint to him and settle onto the couch, raking your eyes over his lanky frame, and what you swear is a hard-on. no way. it has to be the weed. 
he settles back onto the couch too, extending his long arms on the back. his arm comes up behind your head, and you rest your head on it, smiling dopily when he directs his hazy gaze your way. his playlist must have ended. you're left with him and your thoughts.
“you’re funny, you know?” he says through a breath of smoke, passing the joint to you.
“yeah?” you reply, hitting it again. “everyone tells me i’m just corny.”
“you’re not corny. you’re pretty hilarious, if i’m bein’ honest.” 
and there it is again.
not quite plug!hobie whose words light that fire in you again, the fire that you’ve been dousing every night for the past two fucking weeks. fuck, not here. not now. you grab the joint from him in an attempt to push more weed into your system to flush him out, but you meet his pretty fuckin’ brown eyes and they’re low and his lips looks so good and he smells so good and suddenly you’re asking not quite plug who you’re two seconds away from fucking!hobie why he’s been charging you less than everyone else who buys from him and why he invited you into his car and into his house, twice.
and not quite plug who really wants to kiss you right now!hobie can’t even joke and twist his way out of this one. he’s tired of cumming alone to the thought of you. the worst you can do is leave. but the best? god, so many things.
“'s cause i think you’re pretty. n' i really wanna kiss you right now.”
“then do it.”
not quite plug!hobie who tastes like weed and chocolate. the hand that was resting on the back of the couch finds it’s way to the small of your back, fingers drawing nonsensical shapes into it. your hands find his knee and his neck as you press your lips into his. you slide closer to him, and then he’s using the hand resting on your back to push you into his lap, hands settling on your hips as you settle above him, your hands circling around his neck.
“how long?” you ask between kisses.
“since the day you walked up to my car.” he responds quietly, cheeks heating up with embarrassment. he’s quick to trap your lips again.
god, he is hard. and he’s big, you can feel him pressing against the inside of your thigh. you hold your tongue, figuring you could deal with that later. right now, you just need to get out what you’ve been keeping in since the day you two met and you spotted the little ‘a’ hanging from his mirror.
the kiss grows deeper and he grows a little less shy, starting to use his hands gripping your waist to grind you against him. heat floods you when you realize that he's pulling you onto his cock, pressing your cunt against him, separated by the fabric of his sweats and your shorts.
you find his rhythm, falling into the pattern of his soft pushes and presses, a gentle lull of bodies moving against each other that makes you even more comfortable than you already are. soft little groans escaping the both of you, mixing with the smoke and infatuation in the air.
he lets you move the way you want, lithe fingers tracing up your back, hovering over where your hair falls onto your neck. he keeps kissing you for a minute, seemingly frozen. but then he's pulling away to speak, "can i- can i touch your hair?"
you stop moving with a smile. you nod. "yeah. thanks for asking." you kiss him again.
"course, love." he nods, and then he kisses you again. his long fingers snake into your hair, gently and softly. he strokes his hands through your locks, in time with your kisses and the movements of your hips that have started again. hands migrating from his neck, sliding down his chest, laying flat-palmed. your fingers slide under his tee, curling and gripping to pull him ever closer to you.
not quite plug!hobie who could kiss you forever. you could too, but you want more. you need him. so you pull away just a little, murmur "can feel you against me." chills rack through him at your words.
"i know. 'm so hard, darlin'." he pushes his hips up just a little, drawing a muffled whine from you.
"been wantin' you so bad.." you trail off. hobie takes it upon himself to move his hands from your hair to the waistband of your shorts, eyes fixed on yours, watching your every move. you nod, giving him permission to snake his fingers into your shorts, fingers that are met with no resistance.
"no panties? did'ya plan this, doll?" he smiles, slim fingers exploring your wetness, doing what he can with the limited space.
"mhm." you shake your head. "'s more comfortable." he hums in agreement. he circles your clit with his middle finger, dipping towards your entrance to collect more slick. you push down against his fingers, causing him to have to crane his wrist to reach you.
"can we take these off? can't touch you the way i wanna." you blush, averting your eyes to focus on the hand that disappears into your shorts.
"yeah." you breathe shakily, standing up and letting hobie pull them down your legs, hands on his shoulders as balance. your shirt is long, and it falls down to give you some modesty. hobie throws your shorts somewhere behind you before he leans back, giving you space to sit back down.
he looks so fucking good, brown eyes staring at you like you hung the stars in the sky. he reaches out for you, pulling you back into his lap by your hips. his hand disappears under your shirt while his lips find yours again, exploring you more freely this time.
"so wet, doll." he murmurs between one kiss and another, smiling when you whine. his fingers move at different speeds, pressing in different areas and circling at different speeds until he finds a combination that makes you jolt against him, whining "bee."
"thaaaaat's it, love." this time, you don't return your lips to his, instead tucking your head into his neck as you hump shamelessly against his hand, his cock pressing hard and heavy against your thigh. "keep going, baby," he urges, "show me how it feels."
and you do. you shiver and shake and whine and groan in pleasure, pressing kisses in his brown skin as he touches you the way he touched himself thinking about.
not quite plug!hobie who presses his thumb into your clit, sliding his hand farther down to tease your drooling hole. "'s wet, love. g'na feel so good 'round me." you moan loudly at that, at the thought of your fantasies coming true. you cant your hips down, sliding down his fingers until they're seated inside you, stroking gently at your sensitive walls.
pulling them out softly, he curls his fingers, twisting his wrist as you whine and mouth at his neck. "'s okay. you can bite." he nods, catching onto what you were holding yourself back from. you still don't, resign to licking and sucking instead.
until his fingers catch the spongy spot inside you, and your teeth are sinking into the column. "fuck," you damn near shout, pushing yourself onto his hand. he groans in response, pleased to be pleasing you and indulging in the pain you inflict on him. thumb on your clit and fingers playing with that spot, he brings his other hand from your hip to your hair to soothe you, to ground you.
it's sweet, really, his hand in your hair while the other one touches you the way you've been dreaming of. coos and hums meet your ears, soft sounds of affirmation egging you on to let yourself get lost in the pleasure he delivers you. arousal steadily dripping out of your hole, hobie's fingers sliding easier and easier inside you until he can pull out and slip right back in.
"you're so pretty, dove, fuckin' dreamgirl." he murmurs, staring down at your pretty face, arched eyebrows turned down in ecstasy, lips parted. the praise takes you closer and closer to the edge, his deep voice reverberating throughout your entire being, the pangs of arousal in your clit growing harder and faster. you're close.
you're so goddamn close to cumming for a boy you just wanted to buy from. his long fingers reach deep, deeper than you could ever even dream of. “hobie- i- i’m g’na-” you stutter against his neck, hips stuttering against his fingers.
“‘s okay, love, cum. i’m right here.” the rubber band snaps, and you're tightening your thighs around his hand while you shake and shiver, eyes closed tight with soft whines of "hobie, god it feels so good" tumbling from your lips. you tighten around his fingers, too, squeeze him so tight he winces, cause he just knows you're gonna feel so good wrapped around him. he pushes that thought away, though, focused on helping you ride out your orgasm.
fingers pressing into your clit and that spot inside you, he makes sure to milk every last second of your climax, eyes fixed on your ethereal features. aftershocks still racking through you, you finally open your eyes, and he takes it as a sign to gently pull his fingers out of you and wipe them on his sweats, and you shudder at the feeling.
"that was. . so much better than i imagined. n' i imagined it being pretty good." you smile and giggle, placing a kiss on his neck. he laughs in response, raising his eyebrows at your confession.
"bet i'm a better fuck than you imagined, too." the air in the room shifts again, and suddenly you're aware of his cock pressed against your thigh through his sweats again.
"bet you are."
you raise up, kissing him again as your hands find the waistband of his sweats and invite themselves in, meeting his dick that's been hard since you first sat down on his couch. "and i'm the one who planned this? you're free-balling." you murmur against his lips, and he mirrors your words from earlier.
"'s more comfortable, 's all— fuck." he's cut off when you pull his cock out of his sweats and run your finger over his pretty brown tip, dipping into his slit. his hips thrust up, chasing your soft hand. "g'na drive me crazy." he almost whines, jerking against you when you swipe your thumb against his aching tip again.
"just returnin' the favor." you shoot back, raising up to hover over him, swiping his leaking dick through your wetness. he wraps his hand around his thick base, moving in time with your teasing strokes. "you're big." you groan, hesitating to seat yourself on him.
"i know, doll, you can take it though. we'll make you take it." he speaks into your clothed chest, muffled and horny, and you’re sure he means what he says. you drip even more at his words, sticky slick wetting his fat tip.
not quite plug!hobie whose hands are on your hips as you sink down onto his pretty dick, whining into his neck as he encourages you. “you got it, baby, you’re takin’ me so well. god, she’s so wet.”
"she— fuck that's so hot," you moan, eyes rolling back at his words.
"mhm?" he hums.
you don't respond, too busy focusing on his fat cock pushing into you, focusing on the way you both make it fit, exactly like he said you would. finally, he bottoms out, your thighs resting against his sweats.
"g' job, babe. knew you could take me." you jolt against him, his heady words sending another pang of arousal straight to where you two meet.
not quite!plug hobie who you tell to move, raising your hips up as he pulls out, meeting him in the middle as he fills you back up. his hips slot against yours again, and his big chocolate eyes are fixed on yours, gazing upon you in adoration, while your eyes are fixed on where he disappears into you.
"so big, feels s'good. ." you whisper, meeting his gaze. the look in his eyes has chills running down your spine as you raise your hips again, choosing to connect your lips with his again. hobie starts to find a rhythm, now, wrapping his long arms around your waist. you swap spit with him as his hips meet your ass, taking over.
body bouncing with each of his thrusts into your pussy, arms wrapped around his neck. his lips slipping against yours, plump and wet. you both take it slow, basking in the feeling of finally being like this with someone you've wanted since you first saw them.
he fills you up so nicely, thick cock nestled in your achy walls, leaking tip just barely kissing your cervix as he thrusts just a bit harder and you push down a little more.
"y'feel me, darlin? 'm all the way in, at the end of you, god, 'm g'na make you mine." he babbles in pleasure, pushing his hips up even harder. still soft, but firm, and deliberate.
you nod against his lips, hand resting on his cheek. "feel you, bee, feel you in my fuckin' stomach, i swear." you feed off of him and he feeds off of you, kissing and slapping your hips against the others, wild and wanting. "fuckin' me so good, bee, makin' me yours."
"makin' me yours, doll, pussy's squeezin' me like she don't w'na let go."
"don't wanna let go, wan' you so bad." you confess, bringing your ass down onto his cock again. "i— fuck," you sob. his cock curves just right, and with his tip pressing against your spot now, hobie's found new determination.
"that it?" he asks, making sure to keep hitting that spongy patch of skin with every thrust, sheathing his cock in your wet heat.
"'s it, hobie, feels so good, shit." the high has worn off by now, leaving pure emotions and desire driving you two. you get tight around him again, cunt pulsing with every slam of his hips against yours. you feel so good around him, so tight and wet.
"'m g'na—, you're gonna make me cum, bee."
he moves one hand from around your waist at that, sliding between you two to toy with your clit, thumb rubbing wild shapes against the throbbing bud.
"fuck," you cry, grinding against his thumb and down onto his dick.
"you close again, doll? wan' you to wet me up, ma'me a mess," he encourages, big brown eyes fixed on yours like they've been the whole night.
"'m so close, bee, wanna cum for you, wanna wet you up."
"then do it." he mirrors your words from earlier, and the pleasure pulsing through your veins and infatuation swirling around in your blood gets to be too much, and you cum on his cock, still slamming your hips down onto him, meeting his thrusts in the middle. "thaaaat's it, doll." you hear hobie praise through the fog in your mind, bounces turned to messy grinds as you get all tight around him, cumming hard.
"y'alright, love?" he asks, moving your hair out of your face.
"mhm. w'na go again, you haven't come yet." he chuckles at your words, wrapping both hands around your waist and kissing you again.
"lay back, love." he murmurs against your lips, flipping you onto the couch. your back meets the smooth fabric as he lays you down, pulling his tee and his sweats off. you follow suit, stripping your shirt off and throwing it somewhere behind his couch. his watchful eyes fall on your face, then your tits, then your cunt, taking your body in for the first time.
he finds his place on top of you, balancing himself on his elbows as he kisses you again. he reaches down, but you stop him. "lemme do it," you urge, replacing his hand. you line him up with your sopping entrance, nodding twice to tell him to push in.
the stretch is so fucking good, his cock bullying it's way into your tight cunt again.
"fuck, that's it," he curses, watching your face as he seats himself in your once again.
"so deep. ." you trail off, looking down at your stomach, and oh fuck, no way.
"hobie, hobes, look," you urge, and he points his gaze to where you're looking.
"oh, love, look at that. can see myself, right there," he presses down on the bulge he creates, ripping a broken moan straight from your throat.
"fuck me, please," you sob, squirming under him. he nods, understanding, and finds his rhythm easier this time, lean hips slapping against you. your body jolts up the couch with every thrust, choppy whines of nonsensical sentences leaving your mouth.
not quite plug who's absolutely pussydrunk!hobie can't get enough of your cunt, the way you squeeze him oh so tight, the wet squelches of your heat drawing him further into madness. he needs to go deeper, needs to fuck you harder, so he raises up, throwing your legs over his shoulders, leaning back down to bury his cock deep inside you.
"baby, fuck." it's a gritted groan, head rolling back onto the couch as he mouths at your neck, licking and biting at your heated skin. his thrusts are slow and firm, dick kissing your cervix, the slaps sounding out through his living room.
you're both quiet this time around, too blissed out to do anything but fuck, allowing yourselves to succumb to pleasure. every inch of his cock fills you, driving you crazy, driving him crazy too. it's intimate, his lips on your neck, your fingers palming at his back, limbs tangled together. and you can feel it building up in you again.
"'m g'na cum, hobes." he moves one of his arms, bringing his thumb down to rub at your clit, still mouthing at your neck. he lets it happen this time, doesn't urge you or change anything he's doing, and you coast into your climax so gratifyingly that you almost cry, squeezing him tight once again. now, your focus is on making him cum.
"wan' you to cum, hobes."
"gotta pull out, love. we ain' even put a rubber on." he realizes.
"no you don't. 'm clean. jus' fill me up, please." in your right mind, you wouldn't let him, but you're not in your right mind, and neither is he. so he cums with a groan, shaking as he spills pressed against your cervix.
the air's.. different now, satisfied and calm. you both lay there for a while, until hobie's picking you up and carrying you to the bathroom to clean you up.
after, he lights another joint that you two share tucked under his covers, hugged up like a couple.
not quite plug!hobie holds you as you both fall asleep.
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shurisgf · 3 months
Note
Request: (he’d kill us😭) but texting him the “he’s gone you can come now” prank on him as soon as he leaves 😂
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DON’T PULL THAT SHIT AGAIN. — A. ARETAS ✩
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ೃ⁀➷ SUMMARY; in which , you almost get your ass killed trying to do a prank on armando. | FEAT. Armando Aretas x POC!fem!reader | TROPE established relationship | FORMAT headcanons/drabble | GENRE fluff ish? | WARNINGS cursing | NOTES I LOVE THIS REQUEST LMFAOOO , poor baby didn’t even get his snacks from the store messing w you 😭
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` you saw a girl on tiktok do this trend where she texted her boyfriend pretending to invite some other guy into the house as soon as he left
` so, being the daredevil you are, you decided to try this on armando
` and it almost got your ass killed
“Nena, voy a la tienda de la esquina.” Armando announced, walking into the bedroom to grab his keys and wallet before he left. “You want anything?” He asked, coming over to the side of the bed you were at, mindlessly scrolling through Instagram. Looking up at him, you thought about it for a second, before responding with a “No, thank you though baby, be safe.” He leaned down and kissed you goodbye. And with that, he was out of the door, as you heard the apartment door close behind him. Now was the perfect time.
` so you opened your texts, and started to type the message, giggling when it delivered
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` he thought you lost your mind
` he was barely even down the hallway of your apartment complex when you sent that message
` you couldn’t at least wait till he got to the damn car?
` you heard him walk back in, by this point you were scared shitless
` but deciding to take it a step further and pretending to get ready in the bathroom
“Who the fuck did you mean to send that message to?” Armando asked in a firm tone, it was clear that he was beginning to get irritated, especially when you didn’t answer his question. “Contéstame cuando te hable. Who?” His tone becoming more aggravated. He stepped towards you, grabbing your jaw, forcing you to look up at him.
“Nobody, chill out.” That’s where you fucked up. “Chill out?” He scoffed, letting go of the hold on your jaw, walking slightly into the bedroom and running a hand through his hair before turning back around, facing you. “The fuck do you mean chill out?” He argued, squinting his eyes at you and tilting his head slightly. He couldn’t believe the shit that he was hearing.
“¿Estás dejando que otros hombres te follen? ¿Es eso lo que estoy escuchando? Hm?” His tone was accusing, but you know you had to keep it going. “No, the fuck?” You retaliated, Armando furrowing his eyebrows as if he was confused. But really, he was just being petty. “Fuck this shit,” He stated, grabbing his belongings and walking out of the bedroom. You immediately ran after him, “Baby it’s a prank! Nobody’s here! I was just playing!” You shouted, coming out of the bathroom.
` he looked so fed up with you when you told him it was a prank, but a part of him was relived that you were just playing
` he literally gave you the silent treatment for hours, trying to collect his thoughts
` leaving you to entertain yourself, as he did whatever he was doing in the kitchen
` so you walked into the kitchen and apoligized
“Baby I’m sorry, I saw it on TikTok and I wanted to try it on you.” You pleaded with him, trying to get him to talk to you again.
“TikTok almost got your ass dealt with.” He mumbled with a straight face, staring at you over the kitchen counter. He tried to stay mad at you, but looking at your pretty eyes, he couldn’t. You walked towards him, letting him wrap you in his arms. “You love me too much.” You gently spoke, looking up in his eyes.
“Tienes razón.” He replied, pulling you in for a quick kiss. “Don’t pull that shit again.”
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GLOSSARY !
Nena, voy a la tienda de la esquina — Baby, I’m going to the corner store.
No juegues conmigo — Don’t fucking play with me.
Contéstame cuando te hable — Answer me when I’m talking to you.
¿Estás dejando que otros hombres te follen? ¿Es eso lo que estoy escuchando? — You letting other men fuck you? Is that what I’m hearing?
Tienes razón — You’re right.
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©2024 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED — SHURI'S GF. Do not modify, repost, plagiarize, translate or claim any work posted on this blog without my permission !
TAGLIST; @ghettogirly @milliumizoomi @armandosbabymama @dyttomori
reblogs are greatly appreciated !
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lovlidollie · 1 month
Note
hii can i request for crybaby!reader? >_< From what i can understand, Rafe is mean to her but he knows when to stop (does he?), so i imagine the first time she does something that pisses him off, like wearing a very short dress to some party or posting a very revealing selfie, obviously she doesn't do it with bad intentions, nor to make him angry, but that doesn't stop him from going completely crazy about it and filling her with messages and she doesn't understand why he's so angry :( then he can see in person that she doesnt really get it but he still acts mean for a while cause he loves seeing her all confused and teary :3
u r absolutely correct, rafe is so so so mean to her sometimes but he knows when he’s gone too far n when he should stop (theoretically) i love this sm i hope u enjoy lovely !
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crybaby!reader who’s finally got the courage to put on the cute lil dress that she bought impulsively a couple weeks ago. it’s white and lacy and it makes her feel pretty! she even did her makeup and spritzed on extra perfume! she was sad that her rafey wouldn’t be able to come coz he was too busy doing business with barry, but she was sure that he’d like the dress too c:
she’s so excited to get out of the house n party with her friends that she doesn’t realise the dress is a teensy tiny bit too short. topper was hosting the party n when she shows up his eyes widen and his mouth drops, because he knew for a fact rafe would never let his girl wear something so short without him there. she greets him with a hug, n she’s so sweet that she thanks him for having her over.
a couple drinks in and crybaby!reader’s having the time of her life. she’s swaying about with her friends, giggling n having fun, smiling so wide when one of them pulls out their phone to snap a pic. she’s such a lightweight that she’s already tipsy n a little dizzy. the harsh light of her screen hurts her eyes but she manages to repost her friends story to hers! it’s such a cute pic she thinks, just as a ping comes through.
rafey ♡
the fuck do you think you’re wearing?
instantly her mood drops n a frown replaces her smile. did he — did he not like her dress? did he think it was ugly? already, she feels that dreadful lump rise up in her throat n she has to excuse herself to the bathroom.
crybaby
um
just a new dress i got
she waits with baited breath for his response, heart stuttering at the three bouncing bubbles. she’s biting her lips, leg bouncing anxiously against the tile.
rafey ♡
you seriously thought it was a good idea
you must be dumber than i thought
she promptly bursts into tears. she hates making him mad, it makes her feel like she’s disappointed him n that he doesn’t like her anymore.
crybaby
didnt
think it was that big of a deal :( jus thiught it was cute
on the other side of the screen rafe’s brows are furrowed, scowl deepening at each of her words. he’s been with her long enough to know that the typos are because her eyes are too blurry to type properly.
rafey ♡
‘cute’?
think your ass hanging out is ‘cute’?
think dressing up like a slut is ‘cute’ huh
the second i’m not around you go and do this
she’s ruined her makeup by this point, mascara running down her cheeks and lip wobbling so hard she can’t stop it even if she wanted to.
crybaby
m really sorry
i didnt mean to make u mad
promise rafey i didnt know it was short
jus really wantd to look ncie n pretty for u
rafey ♡
do you have any idea
how many guys probably stared at your ass tonight
it’s like you like to piss me off on purpose the fuck
fucking shit
there’s a three minute pause where rafe doesn’t respond or say anything at all and it has her losing her mind. she spams him with messages, apologising over and over again, telling him that she didnt mean to, that she’d do whatever he wanted if it meant he wasn’t mad. finally he responds;
rafey ♡
stay the fuck where you are.
coming to get your ass.
the full stops make her think that he’s really really mad at her. she sits there, hands shaking so hard she drops her phone. some douche yells behind the bathroom door, complaining that he has to take a piss n she has no choice but to open it and wobble off. self-consciously, she keeps pulling the hem of her dress down, teetering on her little kitten heels as she unsteadily moves down the stairs. she sees topper, concern filling his features once he notices her wet face. he sets his drink down, striding over immediately to lead her to a quiet corner of the house. top doesn’t say much, grimaces when he gets a text on his phone a few minutes later and gets up to leave. crybaby!reader’s too out of it to care. she just — doesn’t understand. doesn’t understand why rafe’s so mad at her :(
she rubs her eyes, smearing eyeshadow n glitter everywhere, and looks up just in time to see top walk back with rafe in tow. his lips are pressed into a straight line, jaw clenched, and eyes stormy. she stands up, stumbling into his arms. she wants nothing more but to be held n kissed n told that it was okay.
“top.” he says straightforwardly, giving him the signal to leave. rafe looks down at his girl, heart clenching at how ruined she looks. he knows he was being mean, he knows he shouldn’t have said half of what he said. he sucks on his teeth and holds her by the shoulders, eyeing her up and down. he can’t deny that she looks good. the dress flattered her, emphasised her pretty legs, n he feels a thrill of arousal go through him as he thinks of ripping the pathetic excuse of a dress off her.
“‘m really — hic — real sorry daddy, pl-please don’ be mad. please.” crybaby’s eyes are so red n puffy it almost makes rafe change his mind. almost.
“shit’s shorter than it was in the picture. the fuck were you — what the fuck were you even thinking huh? lemme guess, y’weren’t, right? i gotta do all the thinking f’you. can’t even leave y’by yourself for five minutes before you’re strippin’.” he’s got that mean, mocking tone that makes her wanna shrivel up n die. despite wanting to see how much longer he could draw this out, n as much as loves seeing her all teary n confused, guilt chips away at him. rafe opens his arms and flicks his head, and she crashes into him with a sob. past all her sniffles and wails she manages a, “‘m real— really sorry for disa— disappointin’ you.” she can barely get the words out before a fresh wave of tears overcome her.
rafe sighs deeply, letting her cry into his chest. “jus’ tryna protect you, what part of that don’t you get, kid.” he rubs her head gently, coaxing her into a calmer state. “not all guys are good guys. it’s fine if y’want to wear short shit, jus’ not when ‘m not there.” she nods furiously, agreeing with him instantly n it makes rafe feel high.
“none of this cryin’ shit now, hm? y’didn’t disappoint me, kiddo. ‘m sorry — uh — sorry f’bein’ so mean t’you. dad’s gotta be mean sometimes, y’know? it’s the only way he can be sure it’ll get through t’ya. gonna go home now — y’gonna come home w’daddy ’n you can show him your pretty dress there, ‘kay?” rafe pulls off his jacket and wraps it around her waist, covering the back of her thighs n her peeking ass. she cowers into his side, gripping his shoulder tightly, afraid that he’d leave her there.
he tugs her closer, leans down and presses a kiss at the crown of her head. “attagirl, there we go.”
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Text
Wicked Games 1
No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.
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Warnings: non/dubcon, cheating, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.
My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.
Character: Steve Rogers
Summary: you had a one night stand. Or did you?
As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️
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Your phone wakes you. The room tilts as you open your eyes. A dull hammering thrums in your temples. The morning light makes your brain rough as sand paper. 
Dregs of vodka stick to your dry tongue. The hangover weighs you down like an anchor. Just the thought of moving hurts. 
You reach blindly for your jittering phone. Bubbly music tinkles from the speaker. Shit. It's Barrett. What did he forget this time? 
You answer and put your clammy palm to your forehead. You squint at the ceiling then your eyes slowly round. Where the fuck are you?  
"Hey, babe. You at Wendy's?" Your husband asks. 
You gulp and peel your tongue off the roof of your mouth. This isn't Wendy's house. 
"Yep," you croak. Your eyes ping side to side. 
"Look, I'm sorry about last night. Things got heated and I know I was an ass--" 
You cough as you sit up in the strange bed. "Yeah, you were." 
"So why don't you come home and we can talk it out." 
You peer around the room and your lips curve in a frown. Where the hell would you go besides home your loyal best friend's? You scratch you scalp and turn your legs over the edge of the bed, "let me get myself together." 
"Babe. Please. I'm sorry." 
"When I get home." You hang up.  
It was a hell of fight. The minute he started yelling, you bailed. He knows better. You're not doing a ten hour day and coming home his nagging. So you left out your coffee mug. Big deal. You didn't say anything about the garbage bag he left out to be torn apart by raccoons. 
Whatever. Fighting over dishes. Not of it matters right now. 
Your clothes are on the floor. Someone's floor. Who it is is far from the point. You stand and stagger. You catch yourself on the nightstand. Your hand moves instinctively between your legs. 
You're naked and tender. Did you have sex? 
Think! You ran out with your purse. You went to Wendy's. She was up for a night out. A night to forget and body did you. First drink, second, third, then it gets blurry.  
Fuck! You didn't. You wouldn't. You're pissed at your husband but you wouldn't cheat on him. You're not that type of person. Right? 
You don't have time for that. You have to get out of here.  
You dress as you search the room. It's tidy. Half the bed is mad and the other half messed from your drunken slumber. 
You shake out your hands trying to shoo away the flurry of guilt and denial. Just get out. You'll think better with some coffee in your system.  
You push down the door handle slowly. You listen to the silence of the hall. You tiptoe out warily, checking left and right as you advance. It's a nice place. A condo. Much nicer than your cramped one bedroom. 
Not important! 
You come out into the spacious front room. It's as empry as the rest of the place. The kitchen too. The bathroom. No one. 
Your purse is by the door. Your shoes too. You grab both and let yourself out. You'd rather not face your mistake. 
No, you didn't do anything. You wouldn't. 
You hurry down the hallway to the elevators. You don't look back, just keep going. You don't think, just go. 
It isn't until you're outside the familiar cafe marquee that your let your mind settle. You enter and join the queue. Your order a black coffee and drink it at a stool by the window.  
You lean your elbows on the high table that stands inside the pane. You take a slow, savouring swig of coffee and let it trickle down your throat. You shield your face from the New York morning and put your hands over your ears. 
You can't remember anything but Wendy. Your anger had you ordering round after round, trying to drown out the bile. The thought makes your stomach lurch and you gulp thickly. 
You shake your head and groan. Your phone chirps. It's probably Barrett. Several messages from him and missed calls. All through the night. It's bad enough you betrayed him, you had him up worrying. 
No, you didn't! 
It can't have happened if you don't remember it. A generous stranger took you home so you didn't wake up on the curb. That's it. 
That's the story. Nothing happened. And you'll let Barret believe you were with Wendy. It won't make a difference. 
Your mind is set. Nothing happened. 
Nothing. Happened. 
Because you don't remember. Because you were too drunk to do that. Because you're married and it can't happen. 
You're going to finish your coffee and go home. Everything will be just like it was before... after you tell Barrett where to put that coffee mug if it's such a big deal. 
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