#my legs were hurting my back was hurting it was fucking hot out and i was pissed
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1-800-local-slut · 3 days ago
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Sticky and Disgusting
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In honor of my favorite crash out, my favorite tweaker, here's how I feel like nasty sex with JJ would be. I know I was supposed to upload last night but I was bawling my heart out, so I hope this makes up for it <3
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𑁍 JJ fucks, and he does it good too. He's driven women insane, married women, and single women alike text his phone about how much they miss him, how they just can't forget him.
𑁍 But since meeting you, he's elevated his skills quite a bit and knows how to get you in the mood and usually he gets horny first
𑁍 Walking down the street and sees a swimsuit he wants to see you in? Hard. Laying down and randomly thinking about you? Hard. A hug? I don't even have to say it at this point
𑁍 JJ likes listening to something that puts him in the mood
𑁍 Anything with a slow pace he can roll his body perfectly in time too
𑁍 He's willing to get down anywhere anytime, but he's the type that when he gets the chance to make things nice he will
𑁍 His favorite place is your room. You're his kook princess, and you have this fancy ass bedroom with your parents who hate him downstairs and your brother who also hates trying to tone out the noise of you whimpering JJ’s name like a prayer
𑁍 Blue LED lights, a ring light that he fingered out how to set different colors too, and now you two were fucking under a sea of velvet-colored lights
𑁍 He would take it slow depending on his mood. He's slowly rolling his hips into you, his necklace dancing in your face, and your legs are trembling while he's leaving wet kisses down your sweaty neck and whispering perversions in your ears
"Say my name, I know you can do it." "You like that? Yeah, I know you do."
𑁍 And he's so cocky because he knows no one fucks you as good as he does.
𑁍 He knows every part of you, which fleshy part of your body to press down on to have you arching your back off the mattress and wondering what you did to receive a blessing like this
𑁍 Speaking of pressing, JJ likes fingering you. He'll pull you into his lap, shirt pulled up to reveal those tits he loves so much and make out with you slowly but aggressively while he finger fucks you just right
𑁍 Your eyes are closed while he picks up the pace and he's watching you lean back with your legs shaking around his waist as his palm rubs against your clit. The room is hot and JJ's fingers are covered in cream as you let out pleas for release.
𑁍 JJ can never deny you (yes he can, he's done it before when he wanted to see how long he could edge you too and you got pissed and didn't blow him for two weeks) so he keeps going until you boil over to a finish that JJ has only seen in porn. He wished he set up his camera, so he could get that sound on video
𑁍 There was always next time. And you'd let JJ do anything to you and he loved that so much
𑁍 The first night he realized was when his hands automatically went to around your neck and gave you a tender squeeze and when he withdrew his hands an apologized, and you shyly told him to do it again. He came so hard that night his eyes hurt from how they rolled back in his head
𑁍 And it never ends with that, from there, JJ holds up his fingers for you to lick clean and because you're his girl you eagerly do it that makes JJ's heart swell
𑁍 He likes missionary. It's simple, but he gets to look you in the face while he does things to you that would kill your grandmother if she knew.
𑁍 Having you on your back while he sinks slowly into you at first just to see your reaction when he first slides in
𑁍 That warm, creamy feeling, like putting his nuts in warm pudding. He likes to go in, all the way to the base first, just to see you look in his eyes while wearing the necklace with a little 'J' around your neck that you got for your six-month anniversary that made him cry when he first saw it
𑁍 He starts rough though. He just needs too. Sometimes he eases into it, but on certain nights he just can't
𑁍 He loves when you moan his name with a gasp that says that's the stuff that you love, when you let out choked little moans of 'right there' and 'just like that baby'
𑁍 Oh and high sex? Don't even get him started. Its a little ridiculous, the way he twitches a little more and presses soft kisses all over you because JJ is a little love bug when he's high and doesn't have it in him to bruise your ass cheeks
𑁍 Angry sex. JJ gets angry, so very easily. And he loves when you're willing to let him get it out of his system on you instead of someone's property.
𑁍 He's grabbing your face and making you look him in the eyes, he's holding a firm grip on your waist while he plows into you like he was trying to fuck you to sleep (which he has done time and time again), he has you with your ass raised in the air and slapping it like a punching bag
𑁍 He's trembling from rage, and from how good you are for him, how he's shaking and his brows are furrowed while you bounce back against him. Your manicured nails are gripping the sheets, and his hand is fisting your hair while holding you into the pillows
𑁍 Don't be afraid to take control over him though. JJ likes it when you push him on the bed and sit down on his dick like it's where your meant to be.
𑁍 He wants you to ride him like you hardly care about him. He wants you to bounce up and down, nails scraping down his chest ignoring how red he's turning and how he's whimpering out warnings that he was about to cum
𑁍 When you start bouncing up and down harder, while he's twitching and trying to hold onto your hips, and you do that little grinding thing when you circle your hips around and rub up against his abs so he cums inside of you while letting out moans that were so out of character that he would refuse to admit that was him if anyone ever saw that on tape
𑁍 Drunk sex, when you two stumble in from a party tipsy and you're suddenly desperate to blow him and who was he to tell you no.
𑁍 Take him down your throat and he'll cum right there. He's done it a few times. He watching you bob your head up and down, eyes staring up at him with an evil glint in your eyes
𑁍 Leaving kisses all over his chest and down his stomach, your lip gloss and lipstick smearing down his stomach and he feels a warm fluttering feeling in his stomach
𑁍 When you both cum, it makes a mess. He likes it messy, he truly does. When he pulls out and cums on your stomach or his personal favorite is cumming on your pussy so he can't tell when your mess ends and his begins.
𑁍 When you leave a creamy ring around his base, or when he cums on your ass cheeks. When he face fucks you like you're a human flesh light and you have tears and spit streaming down your face before giving him a sloppy kiss that has him weak in the knees, when he cums so hard he drools a bit and you kiss him anyways because you love anything from him, when you ride his face like a mechanical bull and when you get up he looks like he just went down a water park ride.
𑁍 You two always, and I mean ALWAYS leaving a giant stain on your sheets, his sheets, his bike, your clothing (mostly ending up being your swimsuit or panties from him pulling you aside at a kegger and rubbing you through the cloth of your swim suit until you came and quickly had to duck before a group passing by saw you two), and it's always a terrible mess to clean up.
𑁍 Sweat, spit, cum, tears, it's a disgusting mess and by God JJ lives to make it any chance he gets
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puckinghischier · 1 day ago
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so hi.. i keep thinking about how hot (and probably hopefully rough) sex would’ve been after last night’s game. you do with that information what you’d like.. i just thought i’d share my thoughts y’know completely and utterly innocent like.
✶ hope you had the best day alli, baby!! ‹��
oh harls, my beautiful, beautiful quinn lover.
of course quinn would be in the need of some…rage activities once he got home. he’d be seething the entire bus ride back to the hotel, thinking about how cocky those assholes on the kings were all night. i mean, the hit on brock? the multiple intentional penalties? the cheap move from clarke?
it was all he could do to contain himself until his penalty, finally having had enough of the nasty plays. and while he was letting himself seethe and stew in his hatred, all he could think about is the fact you’re going to be waiting in his hotel room for him.
when he walks through the door, you’re laying on the king sized bed, having received his text he sent you from the locker room directly after the game.
naked. on the bed. now. absolutely no touching yourself (trust me, i’ll fucking know). don’t move until i say so.
he made you send him a picture for confirmation, wanting to know you’ll be so worked up in anticipation by the time he walks through that door you’ll be putty in his hands.
and while he’s already worked up and agitated from the game, the sight of your hand snaked between your legs, head thrown back onto his pillow, soft pants falling from your lips, has him seeing red.
he drops his bag loudly, seeing as you were so lost in the feeling of your own fingers you didn’t hear the heavy door open and shut.
the sound finally startles you out of your blissful state, arms flying up to cover yourself in a panic, dropping them to rest on your stomach when you realize it’s just quinn. the look on his face, however, does nothing to calm your racing heart.
“thought i told you specifically not to touch yourself,” he grits out, clenching his jaw so tightly he could barely speak.
you still, having been so ready and needy you completely forgot about the rule. sitting there, bare pussy exposed to the chill of the room, was torturous in the best way. you could feel yourself drip onto the freshly made bed, so the initial contact was simply the swipe of a finger to try and prevent any further mess. but the warm contrast of your finger on the cold slick of your cunt felt too good, spurring you to give your clit just a brief touch. just enough to hold you over.
before you knew it, you heard the thud of quinn’s bag and clearing of his throat, not even remembering how you ended up knuckle deep in your own core.
“i-i’m so sorry. it’s just, it was cold, and i was so wet, so i tried to clean myself up a bit, but my finger was so warm, and then i thought just one touch wouldn’t hurt,” you ramble out one long run-on sentence trying to plead your case.
“oh, i see” he starts walking towards you, quickly stripping himself of his t-shirt. “you were so ready for me, that you couldn’t wait on me, is that it?”
your face heats, realizing how pathetic it all is, really.
“well, when you put it like that…” you can’t even make eye contact with him, looking down at his hands instead.
quinn starts to untie the string on his sweatpants, letting them drop and walking right out of them as he comes to a stop at the end of the large bed.
“yeah…that’s what i thought,” he smacks his teeth at you in disapproval, shaking his head back and forth.
you take in the sight of him before you. toned body, pale skin, and my god, the hair. you’ve always been one to love body hair on a man, but seeing his large, exposed thighs, and the perfect dusting of the thick, dark hairs all over them, has your hand itching to find its way back between your slick folds.
he starts to palm himself over his boxers, earning a whimper from you in return. the noise piques his interest, eyebrow raising as he looks down at you.
“oh…you want this?” he reaches down to free his thick cock, sighing at the relief of the cloth restriction.
you don’t know if you should respond or not, scared of the consequences either way. you decide on an eager nod, mouth nearly watering at the sight.
“yeah, figured you did. always so needy, so ready to be whatever i need you be,” he says dismissively. “and lucky for you, i need this tonight, too. or i’d make you sit here and watch me stroke myself until i couldn’t take anymore, spewing everything i have all over you and this bed before making you go to sleep needy and unsatisfied. your punishment for touching yourself before i could get here.”
he must be able to see the panic in your eyes at the possibility, knowing he’s upset but surely he’s not that upset with you.
“but,” he starts, rubbing his thumb over his pink tip, “i think what i have planned is punishment enough. plus, i need you tonight, my sweet girl. need you to be my vice, my cure for all these…feelings i have pent up.”
you feel the physical jolt your core does, causing your body to flinch.
quinn discards his underwear entirely, placing one knee on the plush bed to start making his way to your body. you’re still sprawled out, skin buzzing at the thought of his touching yours.
once he’s hovering above you on all fours, he brings his head down to place a feather light kiss to your lips. when he pulls away, you chase him, pouting at the barely there contact.
“nope. only kiss you’ll get tonight, i’m afraid,” he sits up on his knees, in-between your open legs.
you whine out, always loving the hot, open-mouth kisses you two share while he’s inside of you.
“ehh, no more whining, either. should’ve thought about that before you broke the rules,” he scolds you, bringing his hands down to move your legs up, bending both of your knees so your feet rest flat on the bed.
once your knees are bent, he takes your hands that were resting on your stomach and splay them out on their respective sides.
“now, since you didn’t do like i asked you to so nicely, even though i’m so, so mad tonight, no touching me,” he looks down into your eyes as he says it, making sure you understand his rules.
“so, no kissing, no touching, no whining? what, i’m basically your sex doll tonight?” you sass him, rolling your eyes.
now, you expected a reaction out of him. it was your intent, actually. you expected a small smack to the leg, or a wagging finger with a stern look.
what you didn’t expect was to feel his hand come up and grasp your face, squishing your cheeks together so hard you’re forced to bite them just to allow any sort of give from the pressure.
he jerks your face to look at him, bringing his own so close you can feel his hot, angry breath on your face.
“that’s exactly right. you’re my doll tonight. mine to use as i see fit. however i want. you know why?” he pauses, heaving breaths in and out as he waits, as if you’d actually be able to answer him. “because i’m mad. i’m mad that the stupid kings thought they could beat up on my team tonight and get away with it. i’m mad that brock was taken out during the first period because of a purposeful hit. i’m mad, because the one thing i asked you to do, you couldn’t fucking do it.”
he’s seething at this point, an animalistic kind of anger radiating through his body.
your heart races in both fear and excitement. you hardly ever get to see this side of quinn, and you don’t know exactly what all was said or done on that ice tonight, but you’re sure you’re going to be able to feel the effects of it all for the next few days to come.
he releases your cheeks roughly, standing tall on his knees.
“since you claim you were so wet earlier you just couldn’t resist starting without me, too drunk on your own fingers to know what you were doing, you shouldn’t need any help then, should you?” he asks, reaching down to feel the arousal pooling in your exposed heat.
you want to whine. you want to whine and protest and complain, but before you can even think about breaking another rule of his, your breath is knocked from your lungs.
without any warning whatsoever, quinn slams into you completely, leaving no inch of your canal untouched. on instinct, you start to reach your arms up to grasp onto him, needing to ground yourself to him.
“i wouldn’t, if i was you,” he growls out, pulling out completely before slamming into you again, gripping one of your hips for stability.
dropping them back down to the mattress, you grasp the sheets so tightly you worry you’ll rip them.
your body jolts with each slam of his rigid cock into your hole, completely removing himself each time before snapping his hips so forcefully you swear you can feel it in your throat.
“god, have no clue how fucking angry i’ve been tonight”, he huffs out, not faltering his pace. “all night, watched those smug goons think they could do whatever they wanted, to whoever they wanted. then the refs wouldn’t even let me return the favor when given the chance. it’s bullshit,” he spits with a particularly harsh thrust.
you’re trying your best to lay there, unmoving, occupying your hands with the soft cotton underneath you. a choked sob of pleasure makes its way out when he hits a spot so deep inside of you, you had no clue it existed until this moment.
“but knew i was gonna get to come home to you,” he continues, distracted momentarily by the bounce of your tits with each thrust. “my sweet, sweet girl who always listens to what i say. who’s always so ready to do what i need her to do for me.”
he reaches up to pinch one of your hard nipples. you flinch, but remember to keep your hands down.
“and imagine my surprise, when i walk in the door to see you already making yourself feel good after i told you to wait on me,” he switches his hand to your other nipple, show it some attention. “made me so fucking angry all over again. was so prepared to come in and take care of you, low and slow all night. a treat for you and for me. but you just had to go and ruin it, didn’t you?”
at this point, even if you wanted to speak you couldn’t. you’re quite literally being fucked dumb right now. the effort of keeping your body still isn’t even a challenge anymore, limbs so heavy with pleasure you’re basically his to manipulate and use as he wishes.
you don’t even feel your orgasm approaching. one second you’re listening to his frustrations, the next you’re half deaf and seeing stars.
quinn stutters only slightly, abandoning his touch on your tits to move his hand to your throbbing clit.
“god, this was so fucking easy. this turn you on? me mad at you, not letting you do what you want, just like i didn’t get to do what i wanted?” he talks you through your bliss, watching your body shake and shiver while he continues his deep thrusts.
his fast circles on your clit don’t ease up, even after you’ve come down from your high. you try to wiggle your body away, your sensitivity making you squirm.
quinn’s grip on your hip tightens, halting your movement.
“don’t fucking move,” growls at you, basking at how easy it is for him to glide in and out of you, his dick covered in your release. “you’re gonna give me another one, i don’t care how sensitive you are. know you can do it. my own little slut.”
the name surprises you, quinn never really has been one for using stuff like that in the bedroom. you’d be lying if you said it didn’t cause the feelings of another release to start swirling again, though.
his resolve starts to deteriorate, but he’s determined to milk one more from you before he enjoys his own release.
“c’mon. it’s the least you can do f’me, really,” he grunts, somehow rubbing even faster circles on your swollen bundle of nerves. “after no one at the game would let me retaliate, and after i had to sit in the fucking box for two minutes for just returning a little bit of what they dished out all night, giving me all you’ve got isn’t a lot to ask, is it?”
you try to shake your head, but the increased pace of his forceful thrusts causes your head to bob all over the place.
he can feel your walls starting to flutter again already, knowing it won’t take much to send you over the edge.
keeping his hand in between your legs, applying both pressure and friction to your clit now, he bends his body over to attach his mouth to your tit, showing the the area attention once again. he swirls his tongue around your sensitive nub.
the feeling alone is delectable, causing you to writhe in pleasure. but the second you feel his teeth encase the delicate bud, biting down, you explode yet again.
you don’t think you’ve ever come so hard in your life. you cry out, so loud and so pornographic quinn worries someone will complain, but loving every second of the sound.
you’re convulsing underneath him, tears leaking from your closed eyes at the intensity of the pleasure radiating throughout your body.
“fuck, that’s it. swear your pussy’s trying to trap me in there, doesn’t want me to leave,” quinn groans, feeling like his dick is literally being suctioned into your body.
after a few more sloppy thrusts, his balls tighten and he coats your walls with his release. he moans out, mixing with your perfect whimpers and whines as the shocks of his own orgasm cause you to twitch.
after he’s sure your body has sucked him dry, quinn pulls out of you, pushing your knees down so he can roll over to the side of you, throwing his own tired body in the mattress.
you both lay beside one another, panting and letting your bodies catch back up to you. he reaches over to grab your hand, every ounce of anger having left his body through his orgasm.
he’s back to being his usual, soft self, as he rolls over to place a kiss to your temple.
you’ve come to a little bit, turning your head to look over at his smiling face.
“maybe…maybe i should start a pact with these teams you play each week to make you mad and rile you up during games more often,” you softly speak, voice slightly hoarse from your orgasmic screaming. “if this is what i get in return, think it’d be worth the price,” you smirk at quinn.
he lets out a quiet chuckle at your words, bringing a hand to brush some hair out of your face, finally placing a real kiss to your lips.
when he pulls back you open your eyes to admire him, but are met with a serious, stern expression.
“don’t push it.”
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covenofagatha · 20 hours ago
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But you're my stepmom! (Chapter 10)
Word count: 2600+
Warnings: oral, bathroom sex, strap-on, smut, mommy kink, little bit of angst at first
Author's note: so sorry this took so long to post lol things have been crazy
Taglist (hope I didn't miss anyone, and if I did, I'm so sorry!): @stayevildarling@i-just-cannot@hazey-g@buttercandy16@320viada@evilangels-stuff@rmaximoff@morganismspam23@aboutcustardcreams@sasheemo@rigglemethat@walkethisway@mommywandas@r-3-becca@harknessshi@ihaveawifebutwerenotmarriedyet@polaris-likethestar@ahintofchaos @dorabledewdroop @toomanylesbiancouples @accidentally-made-a-sideblog @chiar4anna @lonelyhalfwitch
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When you had found out your dad was cheating on your mom two years ago, you could feel the numbness seeping into every crack and crevice in your body. You remember looking at his phone while you two were watching a tv show and seeing the dirty texts he sent to a woman he used to work with. He was never very subtle about texting her, and you just had a feeling. Deep down, you knew what you were going to find. 
That didn’t mean it still didn't hurt. 
The betrayal, the anger, the sadness. They all rushed over you but you’re still not really sure if you actually felt any of it. You were in a daze for the rest of the day, the need to scream building in your throat gradually. 
You finally couldn’t take it anymore and you went for a run the next day, which is something you never would usually do. The thumping of your feet against the pavement sounded like why? why? why? Why would he do this? Why would he choose her over his family? You ran until it felt like your legs were on fire and your lungs were about to burst until you finally doubled over, bit down on your hand, and let the guttural scream claw its way out of you. Your teeth had broken your skin and you could still see the small white scar if you flexed your hand just right. 
After that, you locked the pain somewhere deep down inside you. You hadn’t even gotten to really confront him about it.
But when Agatha says that your dad is having an affair, you feel your stomach drop and somewhere, the buried feelings start begging to get free, rattling on the bars of their enclosure. 
“What?” You ask quietly, a lump growing in your throat as you crane your head up to look at her. Your hand on her stomach stalls. She has a distant look in her eyes. 
“Monday night after you left, your dad couldn’t find his phone so we were looking for it. I found it on the kitchen table while he was looking in his office and he had just gotten a text. I glanced at it and it was from a woman.” Agatha doesn’t continue, but you can only imagine what the text said. 
“I’m sorry,” you whisper, the lump getting bigger. You remember making that mean comment to her the first night you got dinner about him cheating again. 
She laughs ironically. “I guess I can’t be mad. I mean, look at us.”  
You glance up at her to meet her sardonic eyes. “Yeah, but look at who you cheated on versus who he did. I’m sure this other woman isn’t even half as hot as you are.” 
She softly smiles and then leans down to peck your lips with hers. “That’s sweet of you to say, honey.” 
“So what are you going to do?” 
She sighs deeply and starts gently tugging on the ends of your hair. “I don’t know. Confront him? Get a divorce? I’ve spent the last two days just trying to figure something out.” 
Her cold silence makes sense now. So does the way she fucked you earlier. 
You turn your head and press a kiss to her bare shoulder. “I’m sorry,” you repeat, because what else is there to say? “Is there anything I can do to help?” 
Her fingers tighten in your hair and they pull to tilt your head so you’re looking right at her. “I can think of something,” she says, a teasing lilt in her voice. 
“Oh, yeah?” Your eyebrow raises and she smirks with a daring nod. “Anything for my step-mother.” 
You kiss down her stomach, making sure to sink your teeth into her delectable abs and suck hard. She moans and arches her back off the bed. Soon enough, her midsection is littered with red marks and fuck, it’s hot. 
If your dad is too much of a fucking idiot to appreciate this woman, you’ll just have to take matters into your own hands. 
You settle between her thighs on the bed and slowly drag your tongue up the inside of her right thigh. A noise slips out from her lips and you do the same thing on the other side to hear it again. 
“Stop teasing, baby,” she warns in a low voice. She’s glistening. 
You chuckle and then lick up through her folds. She groans and raises her hips so you can get in closer. Your tongue swirls around her clit. 
“Fuck,” she swears under her breath. You begin to lap at her, heat growing between your own legs at the way her breath stutters and her thighs begin to shake. 
“Did he ever make you feel like this?” You ask, words garbled since your mouth is full of her cunt. But she rolls her hips on her face seemingly involuntarily, so you know she understood. 
“Never,” she says breathlessly and you pick up the pace, swirling and sucking, wanting her to feel good. 
She cums quickly and then she pulls you up into a deep kiss, tongue moving over yours to taste herself. 
“What does this mean for us?” You wonder aloud after she cleans your face and you both are cuddling again. If Agatha and your father get divorced, will this affair end? Will it become more?
“What do you want it to mean?” 
“I don’t know,” you say, because you don’t. “I like this, though.” 
She kisses your forehead and you can feel her smiling against you. “I do, too.” 
***
Dinner tonight with Agatha and I? is what your dad texts you the next day while you’re at school. You frown and quickly shoot Agatha a text about it. The two of you hadn’t spoken any more about what she was going to do about your father’s infidelity so you just want to be aware if you’re walking into a trap. You’re not sure you can take another dinner where your dad sits you down and tells you that he’s getting a divorce. 
Agatha responds that she hasn’t talked to him yet. You did know that he was away on business – although, that could just be code for having an affair – so he hasn’t been home. And you don’t think Agatha would be one to confront him over the phone. 
You text your dad back that you’ll be there. You’re curious to see what it’s about. 
The rest of the day passes quickly while you worry about what dinner could bring. You take a quick shower when you get home from school and put on a casual black dress. You don’t really care about looking nice for whatever restaurant you go to, you just want to look good for Agatha. Your mouth almost waters at the thought of whatever she will wear. She always manages to look ethereal. 
Your phone buzzes with a message from Agatha. Your father is meeting us at the restaurant. I’m outside. 
You can sense the tension radiating off the older woman the moment you step outside. She tersely watches you walk over to her car and slide into the passenger seat. Agatha’s wearing pants with a silky button down shirt and she looks hot. 
“Hey, baby,” she says, leaning over to press a kiss to your cheek. 
“You okay?” 
She grimaces and puts her sunglasses on. “I’ve barely talked to him since he left on his trip. He just asked if the three of us could get dinner.” 
Your brow furrows. “Are you going to say anything tonight?” 
Agatha purses her lips and reaches over to pat your leg. “I wouldn’t do that with you there. I’m not putting you in the middle of this.” 
Your heart warms because your mother did not hesitate to put you in the middle of her problems with your dad. She had broken almost every boundary and turned you into her therapist, and it now fills you with immense gratitude that Agatha won’t do that. 
Even though you are very much in the middle of it, with you and her having sex and all. 
“Thank you.” 
You both launch into small talk until you pull into the restaurant parking lot, where you see your dad waiting out front. Your stomach begins to sink just at the sight of him. 
You can’t believe he did it again. 
“Sweetheart, are you alright?” Agatha asks, voice tight with worry. She must see how you’re looking at him through the window. You’ve never opened up about your parents with her, but you can tell that she at least partly knows how you must be feeling. 
You clench your jaw and steel your nerves. “I’m good.” 
You try to not get angry when your dad’s face lights up at the sight of the two of you. 
“My favorite girls!” He booms and pulls you both into a hug. You can feel how tense Agatha is and you’re sure you feel the same. “How are we?”
“Good,” you mutter and Agatha says something along the lines of that as well. 
He made a reservation so you’re immediately led to a booth tucked in the back of the restaurant. You sit opposite your dad and Agatha doesn’t hesitate before sliding in next to you. 
“How was your trip?” Agatha asks, tone laced with something sharp like she’s trying to catch him in an act. 
Before he can answer, the waitress comes over. She looks a few years older than you, with brown hair and pretty blue eyes. Almost like a younger version of Agatha, you think. She takes your drink orders, her gaze lingering a bit too long on you as you ask for a sprite. 
You can see Agatha scowling at her out of the corner of your eye. 
Your dad starts talking about his work when she leaves but you suddenly lose all focus when Agatha slowly moves her hand to your thigh and grips it possessively. 
She clearly does not like the waitress, who comes back a few minutes later with your drinks. Fully aware of this, you reach out to take your sprite from the waitress and your fingers brush right in front of Agatha’s face.
Her nails dig into your leg and you subtly smirk at her. Her eyes have completely darkened. 
After everyone orders food, you excuse yourself to go to the bathroom. You’ve started throbbing from the tight hold Agatha has on you – both literally and figuratively – and you’re not sure you’ll last another minute without some relief. 
Just as you push open the door, someone grabs your wrist and shoves you inside. You gasp and whirl around, fear clenching your heart, only to find that it’s Agatha. 
She closes the door behind her and locks it. You’re so thankful it’s a single-person bathroom. 
Agatha advances and you step back until you hit the sink. 
“I know what you’re doing,” she hisses, trapping you against it by putting her hands on either side of you. 
“What do you mean, mommy?” You ask innocently, enjoying the way her dark eyes flash. Her hand comes up to wrap around your throat and a thrill runs through you. You’re sure you’re absolutely dripping now. 
“You were making eyes at that dirty waitress,” she accuses. “Looks like you need a reminder of who you belong to.” 
Before you can ask what she means, she flips you over so the sink is cutting into your hip bones and you can see the reflection of you both in the mirror. You look like a mess. And she looks like she is enjoying every bit of it. 
And then she grinds her front against you and you feel something hard in her pants. You watch your mouth fall open in the mirror. 
“You-” You don’t even have the words and the ache inside you is only getting worse. A smug smile spreads across her face as she reaches down to unzip her pants. Her other hand moves your underwear to the side, not even bothering to take it off.
She drags her strap-on up and down your slit, laughing cruelly at the way your hips move to try to get her inside. 
“Please,” you whine, feeling empty. 
She leans down so she can whisper in your ear, “Who do you belong to?” 
“You, mommy,” you say desperately and you let out a loud moan when she finally pushes into you.
“Be quiet,” she jeers and spanks you hard. You bite down on your lip to keep from moaning, but also to keep from telling her that spanking makes noise, too.
She sets a rough pace from the beginning, grabbing onto your hips with bruising force. You let out little gasps as she thrusts into you, over and over, already bringing you close to the edge. She reaches around you with one hand and starts rubbing your clit and your head falls forward in pleasure. 
Agatha pauses for a second so she can yank you back up by your hair. “Look at yourself,” she says, forcing you to watch yourself in the mirror. She resumes her fast pace. “Look at how well you’re taking my cock for me. Look at how much of a slut you are for me.” When she calls you a slut, you physically can’t stop the sound that comes out of your mouth. 
“Mommy, please,” you pant, your entire body feeling like a livewire. “Wanna cum.”
“Do you think a brat like you deserves to cum after making mommy jealous like that?” 
“M’sorry, mommy, I’ll be good,” you practically cry. You meet every thrust, eyes rolling back in your head from how perfect she feels. Your body is on edge from all the effort it’s taking to not cum. “Need to, so close.”
“Who do you belong to?” 
“You, only you,” you sob. 
“Good girl,” she says, pressing a kiss to the side of your neck. “Cum for me, sweetheart.” 
Two more thrusts and a rub of your clit and you cum all over her cock. It’s explosive and you bite on your lip so hard that you taste blood. She begins to slow down as you come back down to earth and you rest your head against the mirror to recover. 
Someone knocks on the door and you freeze since your step-mother is buried to the hilt inside of you at this current moment. 
But she just sweetly calls, “Occupied!” and you can’t help but laugh breathlessly. She pulls out of you and you wince. 
“Wow,” you say as she helps you clean up. “You know I wasn’t flirting with the waitress, right?” 
She smirks and pulls you in for a deep kiss. “I know, baby. I just couldn’t spend another minute listening to your dad talk.”
“Join the club.” 
You feel like everyone is watching the two of you as you make your way back to the table, but in reality, they’re not. Your dad is on his phone texting someone – you think you see a woman’s name at the top – but he quickly swipes out of it when he notices that you both have come back. You glance at Agatha just in time to see her eye twitching. 
“There you ladies are! I thought you had gotten lost. Everything okay?” He asks. You think you’re just imagining the condescending tone, but Agatha stiffens next to you so maybe not. 
“Actually yeah,” she says. “I’m filing for divorce.” You gape at her as she spins on her heel and walks away. 
You turn your head back to your dad, who looks back at you, dumbfounded. 
“Sweet pea-” he starts but you hold up your hand to cut him off. 
“No. Fuck you. You don’t deserve anyone.” 
And then you leave to follow Agatha, feeling suddenly like the weight inside you has finally lifted. 
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humiliatingsluts2 · 2 days ago
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My Sex Club Experience
This is based on a true story. My thoughts on the sex club are varied so this has been lightly edited.
I matched with a girl on one of the apps, and our discussion turned from casual flirting to how we both wanted to go to a sex club. I’m pretty bold, but going alone as a man is a stretch. So once we both agreed on one nearby, and on a weekend, we booked a hotel nearby and set the date. We met at the hotel to check in together. It was strange meeting someone for the first time and getting to know each other while we both showered. Perhaps it was her way of defeating the nerves, but she was happy to casually strip and put on her lingerie while we talked. Finally it was time to go to the club.
We entered and were welcomed by a very cute couple who were running the bar. They walked us both through membership and the rules and before long we were members. It wasn’t yet busy, but we stood at the bar and flirted with the bartender (I can’t emphasise enough how cute she was) and with an older couple who seemed very experienced. The wife was the stereotype of a hotwife: dressed to kill and encouraged by her husband. Perhaps because we were young hot fresh meat, but it didn’t take long at all for the women to be comparing their lingerie and then making out. I was running entirely on adrenaline as I started making out with the man’s wife as he groped my date.
They suggested we go upstairs and my date and I agreed. I think we both wanted to dive in and see, plus the couple did seem fun. Upstairs were a whole range of rooms, we chose the most “vanilla” one with a bed. Once upstairs we immediately stripped and everything moved fast. I had both girls sucking my cock while the husband was fucking my date. This was the first time she’d ever had group sex, and while the wife was sucking my cock I made sure to check in and praise her for being spit roasted. She was loving it.
I’ll be honest that this first foursome was quick. We both swapped and fucked each other’s partners and the other guy came. The public performance kept me from cumming, so after a little longer fucking his wife, we all chilled out for a little longer before getting dressed and going back to the bar. It felt exciting to return to the busier bar and have everyone look at us and know we’d been fucking upstairs. My date was still in only lingerie and everyone was eyeing her up. Including that hot bartender.
With new confidence after getting started, we made a beeline directly for her, and began flirting outrageously. We just needed to clarify a few club rules, such as “are the employees allowed to fuck the customers?” The answer was a very clear yes. Somehow barely half a beer later she was sitting between us with a hand between each of our legs. Unfortunately duty called and she had to cover the bar. My date and I went straight upstairs to see what we could find.
Most of the activity upstairs was closed off. There was a simple system to “chain” off doors to allow watching but not entering. However, the kink room was empty. Featuring a variety of impact toys, a bench and a St Andrews cross, it was definitely my favourite. I strapped my date to the cross and blindfolded her. I started slowly groping and teasing her body, and I began talking to her and I picked out an impact toy, “You look so good tied up in public. I’m going to show you off, I’m going to hurt you no matter how many people watch. I want to see how much you can take when you know you’re being exposed.” She was dripping wet as the paddle struck her ass.
I spent a long time going between hitting her, fingering her, and making her drool on my fingers and taste herself. It may have been a mistake to not “chain” the door, as we had collected quite an audience. One asked if he could use the paddle, and I let him spank her three or four times.
Eventually I untied her and told her to get onto the bench instead. She eagerly climbed on and I undid my belt and began to fuck her in doggy. One of the hottest things happened here. I hadn’t realised, but on the wall of the room was a glory hole into the hallway. As I was fucking her over the bench, a stranger’s cock had appeared through the hole, and she was being spitroasted for the second time. She was loving being used like this, and it didn’t take long for her to make that guy cum in her mouth. Another cock replaced it almost immediately.
After fucking her for a while I stopped, and the man who had asked to paddle her asked to fuck her. She enthusiastically said yes. I went to check the other side of the glory hole, and took my turn getting a blowjob through the wall while she got fucked by her third cock of the night.
After a while, she climbed down from the bench and we ended the gangbang. However she was still looking for more. We went next door to the gangbang room, and found the cute bartender bouncing on her boyfriend’s cock with another man in her mouth.
The rest of the night might need to wait for part two… 
Follow me for new writing every Friday.
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thatsmzbitchtoyou · 3 days ago
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Quite a Workout -Oneshot
Word count: 890
*angsty*
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“Maybe if you weren’t so distracted by your own dick I wouldn’t have to put myself in the line of fire for you,” Y/N shouted back at him as she set up the equipment for her next exercise.  After a rough mission she felt the need to get out her leftover stress in the gym.
Bucky huffed angrily.  “Will you stop bringing up my boner?  Jesus, it’s not like I have any control over that.”
“Obviously,” Y/N snorted.  “During the middle of a mission while we’re dodging bullets and fighting for our lives?  You’ve got great timing.”  
Bucky glared at her before rolling his eyes and starting to walk away.  “Whatever.  I may have had an ill timed boner, but you were looking there, darlin’.”  
“Oh please,” Y/N laughed as she got situated on the bars.  She had been working on her captain’s chair leg raises, wanting to strengthen her core muscles.  She engaged her core and slightly grunted as she lifted her legs to a sitting position, most of her weight being held up by her arms and offset by her stomach muscles.  “What turned you on in the middle of a fight anyway, huh?  You like the danger?”  Her voice was strained as she held the position for a ten count then let her legs down.  “You’re sick.”
Bucky whirled back around and walked up to her as she started another set.  “I’m sick?  Says the one who was staring at my cock in the middle of choking out another dude with your thighs.”
Y/N smirked in triumph at his slip up as she let her legs back down, breathing heavily.  “Ah, so it was my thighs, huh?” she said knowingly, slightly leaning towards him with narrowed eyes.  “You liked watching me snuff out some guy with my thick, strong thighs?”
Bucky’s eyes widened and he slightly recoiled, blinking rapidly as Y/N laughed again.  She took another breath and started another set, lifting her legs up in a sitting position.  “You’re sadistic,” Bucky said as he watched her.  “You like humiliating others, even during their most vulnerable moments?  If anyone’s sick, it’s you.”  Y/N huffed, trying to keep count in her head and ignore him, her stomach starting to tremble at the effort.  “You drive me insane,” Bucky sneered, leaning toward her, dipping his head to catch her eye.  Y/N could tell that she’d really pissed him off, the fire in his eyes making a shiver run down her spine.  “I’m gonna ask for a mission partner reassignment.  I really thought as we worked together we could get past this weirdness, but apparently it’s one of God’s greatest jokes to make you just as insufferable as you are hot, you sick, twisted, sadistic, fucking bitch!”
Y/N wasn’t sure what happened next.  His words were hurtful, but for some reason the louder and angrier he got, the more turned on she was.  At the end of her ten count in her head she had felt the trembling in her stomach seemingly shoot down in between her legs, and as he finished yelling at her she relaxed her legs to stand and what felt like a mini orgasm rocked through her lower half.  She shuddered at the feeling, her mouth dropping open as she gasped and then moaned loudly in Bucky’s face as she felt a gush of her own slick dampen her panties and her leggings.
Bucky’s eyes widened comically at her, his eyes traveling down her body to see her shaking legs and twitching stomach.  His gaze moved back up to her face in shock.  “Did you just–”
“Don’t,” Y/N said desperately, her voice sounding like a whimper.  She averted her gaze from him and on wobbly legs ducked under the machine and around him, running out of the gym.  That did not just happen.  That did NOT just happen!  She kept running, losing track of where she was going until she ducked into an empty stairwell somewhere, doubling over and sobbing as she sank down to her knees.  Y/N wasn’t sure what she was feeling.  Embarrassment?  Yes.  Shame?  Definitely yes.  But there was something more.  It hurt what Bucky had said, and it hurt that he felt that way about her.  And it hurt that the humiliation had been turned back on her.  Did she…want him to like her?  Was that why she had teased and annoyed him this whole time?  She had been unable or unwilling to place her mixed emotions and took it out on him instead.  I am a fucking bitch, she thought, hugging herself as she cried.  Bucky deserved better than her as a mission partner.  She deserved this humiliation.  She wouldn’t blame him if he went around the whole tower and told everybody what happened.  Y/N slowly trudged up the few more flights of stairs to her floor, the discomfort of the wetness between her legs a constant reminder of her idiocy.  When she reached her room she bolted the door, giving Friday instructions not to let anyone in and to cancel all upcoming appointments and training, before stripping off her workout attire and getting in the shower.  She sank down to the shower floor after washing herself, crying as the water flowed over her.  Just a sick, twisted, sadistic bitch. 
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moonsrune · 13 hours ago
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"I was just going to say..." his eyes fall his to his hands and he has to will himself not to scratch at the skin. It was a coping mechanism. One he wants to overcome but he hasn't found a solution yet. There's alcohol and drugs, but Tyler has been sober since France. He was planning on wooing Brooke before she got back together with Jake and wanted to be sober for it. However, he fucked that up when he got drunk at Noel's party and let his demons convince him it would be a good idea to have Nina seduce Jake and for Brooke to walk in on it. This is why he needs to stay sober. Because when he's drinking or taking drugs, his inhibitions go out the window. "It's hard to say," he laughs and then releases a steadying breath. "I just think you would have been my first crush. I think I would have done anything for you to look at me and only me." It would have been a world without Nina manipulating him. A world without Jake telling him she's his and off-limits. He would have been the one to grow up with her. Life would have been worth living. But that's not how it was. For most of his life he was just waiting to die so he could get away. It was hard, cold, and loveless. And he might not believe in love but there's something in her eyes that makes him believe in something.
Upon hearing her review of his sandwich, Tyler gets stuck on hearing her say 'I like you.' The sound of that makes his heart swell with feelings he's not used to. It's almost overwhelming and makes him put his sandwich down because his stomach is too fluttery to digest food. He had people tell him he was hot before and fun but no one ever said they genuinely liked him. Not in a way that was so innocent. Brooke had nothing to gain from liking him. It would be easier for her to hate him. He was a jerk to everyone but her and Riley. Doesn't she find that strange? Shouldn't that be a red flag? "You would have sat through it if it were nasty just so you wouldn't hurt my feelings?" He's speechless. After years of abuse and neglect, he never would have thought someone would care enough to spare him from any kind of pain. Emotional...physical. Usually they kick him around and they don't think twice about it. Nina included. She hurts him more than she cares for him. In fact, he's sure she doesn't care for him at all. "You should stop saying nice things." Tyler stands up from his chair and the legs scrape against the linoleum. He can feel his hands starting to shake a little as he makes his way around the island and takes her face between them before pressing a kiss to her lips. He expects her to push him back and reject him but he can't spend another second repressing how he really feels.
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"That's all I ask." Is that he gives Riverwood (and her) an honest shot to win him over. Maybe if she's successful, he'll lay down roots here for the first time ever in his life. Everyone deserves a home. Even someone who feels like they aren't deserving of it. Brooke knows in her heart of hearts, he belongs here. Just as much as anyone else claims to.
As Brooke shifts in her chair, she notices the little goosebumps starting to arise along her legs. She's cold but feels feverish at the same time. And she can't tell if there's a reason for that or if he just makes her that nervous. "No---" Brooke tries to interject. She wants him to finish his thought. "What were you going to say?" He may not be willing to live in a fantasy land but she is. She'll do it enough for the both of them, if she must. "As for being blunt. I always say it's better to be brutally honest, you're right. This way people know where you stand." She's a big advocate for boundaries and the truth. She tells it like it is. Which is why she's especially candid about her thoughts on his homemade sandwich. Just for dramatic flair, she takes her time chewing after taking her first bite. If only to savor the flavors that burst on her tongue from the cheese, the sauce, and the buttered bread. After a solid minute or two, her stoic expression softens into dimpled grin. "Okay, honestly.... I was expecting it to suck, I'm not gonna lie. And I was prepared to tell you it was good even if I hated it. Just because I like you and I don't want to hurt your feelings in spite of everything I just said. But, I actually don't have to pretend. It's good. Really good." To prove it, she takes another bite and then another until nothing's left but half of the crust. "Now I'm just wondering if you're a robot." A laugh escapes her, as she eyes him skeptically. "Hot people aren't supposed to be smart, athletic and know how to cook. You get one or the other, not all three. So what lab created you?"
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semisentient-entity · 4 months ago
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it's a shitty night tonight and I am handling it horribly 😎
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feelgoodinct · 2 months ago
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nsfw, mdni.
simon becomes an absolute dog when he sees you in his shirt.
cw: possessive simon, sex on carpet (ouch), unprotected p in v, creampie, size kink (?).
simon is a good roommate. he’s organized, clean, pays rent on time, and minds his own space. the only thing is—roommate is hot. stupidly hot. you know he doesn’t have a girlfriend and he’s never once brought back a girl let alone mentioned one. you figured your little crush on him would pass like all the other (it does not). you start dropping hints that you find him attractive. like wearing your tightest tops, brushing your ass against him while reaching for a cup, even leaving one of your lacy thongs to mix in with his laundry. he never bites the bait. you start to think that maybe he just doesn’t find you attractive or even worse he finds you creepy. so you tuck your schoolgirl crush away into the cavity of your chest.
you close the washer with your hip, cradling your laundry basket back to your room. you hear the familiar turn of your front door lock letting you know simon is home from his morning gym session.
you pad into the living room to ask simon if he needed any clothes washed. simons back is turned from you when he begins to slip off his trainers, dropping his gym at the foot of the door.
“need any clothes washed? i’m starting a load up right now.” you ask eyeing the movement of back muscle underneath his compression shirt.
he finally turns to you and starts to respond “nah don’t think-“ before he snaps his mouth shut when he sees what you’re wearing. “that mine?” his voice gruff, it’s his army issued shirt that is long enough to cover your shorts. a deep green color that frays at the hem and has his last name in bold at the back of it. you notice he’s staring at the worn fabric waiting for an answer.
you look down, “oh yeah. sorry was doing laundry found this in hamper. my clothes are in the wash. hope that’s okay?” you sound apologetic like you just did something unforgivable. jesus christ what were you thinking wearing his shirt without asking. you shift trying to ease your embarrassment.
he’s on you in three short strides. making a noise between a growl and snarl. you don’t know how or when you both ended up on the living room floor. frankly, it’s the last thing on your fucking mind now that you’re on your knees cheek pressing into the shag carpet. you can feel the heat of his stare between your legs. you get a glimpse of your shorts and panties strewn across the floor leaving you in his shirt. you wait with bated breath for him to touch you. you wiggle your hips in a silent plead to get him to do something, anything…everything.
he gives the flesh of your ass a heavy smack that has you clenching around nothing. “be good now.” is all you hear before the sting leaves an angry red mark that you know is gonna leave you wincing for the next week. simon smooths a hand over the back of your (his) shirt making a noise in the back of his throat.
you hear shuffling behind you before you feel the head of him catch on to your opening making your mouth gape like a fish out of water. he groans at the contact, kneading the fat of your hips, before he presses in painfully slow with a hiss. you whimper into the carpet, fists balling, feeling hot all over. your cunt pulses trying to make room for him inside your womb.
“i know. i know, pretty girl. almost there.” simon bites back a hiss when you clench at his words. you think you might die like this. laid out on ugly apartment carpet trying to take simon’s cock. you could cry with relief when you feel simon’s balls meet your clit letting you know he’s all the way in. simon lets out a guttural sound bordering on animalistic at the sight of you speared open on his cock, last name across your back, absolutely crying for it.
he fists the bottom of the shirt to keep you still and eases his hips back just to sink back in slowly. the pressure in your navel hurts so good it’s starting to make you dizzy. simon sets a pace that has you trying to cant your hips back to meet his thrusts. he lays a heavy palm in the middle of your back, just under the boldened ‘RILEY’, keeping you pinned giving you no choice but to take what he gives you.
“prettiest fuckin girl i ever seen. gonna give this cunt the proper treatment she deserves, yeah?” he bends his left leg, somehow sliding in deeper. there’s no doubt that you can feel him in your lungs. “s’deep simon.” you slur, reaching a hand back to weakly press against his stomach. he chuckles at the act taking both wrists into one of his hands pressing them at the small of your back, forcing you into a deeper arch. you sob at the change in angle. your nipples being rubbed raw by the friction of his thrusts.
“needed this real bad, huh? don’t worry baby. i’ll make sure you don’t go without it again. wearing those tiny tops think i didn’t notice.” his voice rough and deep behind you. “uh huh.” you reply without a second thought, you don’t even care that you’ve been drooling into the carpet or that you’ve been caught. simon gives a deep chuckle at how pliant you’ve become just from some good dick.
he knows your close by the increasing volume of your sounds. he never lets up his pace determined to give you his all. “where?” he asks in a quick breathe. you take a few seconds to register his words. “huh?” you manage to squeak out. “where do you want me, pretty thing?” he says in an almost pained voice. the gears turn in your head before you speak up “inside. want it inside. m’clean. pill.” resorting to short clipped words. you beg, as if you have to, simon thinks.
your orgasm comes hard and fast leaving you sobbing out garbled version of please and simon. simon is not far behind burying himself as deep as your bodies will allow and comes inside with a pinched “oh fuck.” he pulls out with a pop and watches his spend leak down your slit leaving a small puddle on the floor that he knows he’ll have to scrub out later.
simon pats your backside affectionately. “don’t think we’ll be doing any laundry today” he says with a grin that makes you giggle. “yeah, don’t think so.”
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iliveinprocrasti-nationn · 6 months ago
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anyway. “j why are you still up don’t you hate staying up late” well you see the demons got me. and by demons i mean. ow
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fairy-angel222 · 9 months ago
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“𝐉𝐄𝐀𝐋𝐎𝐔𝐒𝐘 𝐉𝐄𝐀𝐋𝐎𝐔𝐒𝐋𝐘”.. 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐀 𝐒𝐈𝐃𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐌 𝐏𝐈𝐄 𐙚˙⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩
—gojo finds out that you’re baking a pie for some stupid co worker of yours, shows you that he’s the only one deserving
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pairing: gojo x fem! reader
content: smut, tit slapping, pussy slapping, degradation, hair pulling, belly bulge, breeding, finger sucking, spit swallowing, mean teasing
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When Gojo strolled into the kitchen to find you baking one of your signature cream filled pies he hummed. Pressing up against you with his arms around your waist while placing soft kisses to your neck.
“That smells delicious baby, who’s it for?” He had seen the text from your coworker asking you to bake one for him.
“Oh thanks baby! It’s just for some coworker at work. Been begging me for one of my pies for a while now.” You shrugged. “Hmm.. and would that co worker happen to be the same one who’s been flirting with you for ages?” He whispered when his lips reached your ear, hot breath fanning against your skin as you swallowed hard.
“Don’t fucking run from it baby, take it all like a good girl.” Gojo growled out, a grin spread across his face as his cock drilled meanly into your cunt. His hand in your hair yanking your head back to look up at him. Blue eyes seemingly darker when he groaned.
“My little slut’s so fucking pretty.” Grinding hard against your ass, a loud mewl escaping your lips when his tip grazed roughly into your gummy spot. “You feel that?” He rolled his hips again, his eyes never leaving yours as his hand pressed against the bottom of your stomach. “Feel me deep in you baby?”
You let out a shaky cry, your body being jerked back and forth with each of the man’s harsh thrusts. His hand pointing out the bulge of his tip against your skin. “Nngh— Satoru.”
“Open that pretty little mouth for me.” Gojo breathed, your back arching deeply as you sniffled. Doing as told and opening your mouth with a whimper, allowing Gojo’s spit to fall onto your tongue with a hum. Two of his slender fingers finding their way into your mouth, resting on the back of your tongue before he was lightly thrusting them down your throat.
“That’s it. That’s the good slut i know.” he smirked, your lips enclosing around the digits as your eyes closed with the shiver of your body.
Your loud moans were muffled as Gojo bullied his fat cock deep into your tightness. Eyes pooling with tears as your stomach burned with heat. Gojo’s hand finding its way to grope at your tits, pinching at your hard nipples making you let out a choked whine.
You yelped when your boyfriend’s large hand landed softly on your breast, mewling messily around his fingers when it landed harder on the other one. Your body trembled as Gojo’s finger trailed down your stomach, stopping at your clit to rub on the sensitive nub. Pulling out a string of moans followed by a cry when he slapped down at your clit.
“Gonna show you a real cream pie baby. Gonna stuff that pussy full of me.” Gojo grunted, one hand remaining on clit while he removed the one in your mouth with a string of salvia still attached. Using it to knead the flesh of your ass, red from the constant slamming of his hips onto it.
“S-satoruu, you’re so mean— ahh,” you mewled when you felt a harsh smack stinging through your skin. Your boyfriend’s hand reaching to your neck as he pulled you close, increasing the speed of his thrusts with a chuckle.
“Hmm, am i? Could’ve decided to leave this pussy wet and needy if i wanted to.” Pressing his chest flush against your back, his breath hot on your ear. “Could’ve left you to go bring you that stupid pie to that stupid boy, baby.” He scoffed in faux offense. “I’m hurt, i’d say i’m quite nice don’t ya think?”
You could only whimper as you felt yourself getting close, pussy clenching around Gojo’s cock when his grip on your neck tightened.
“O-oh, Satoru— ‘m close,” you cried, your eyes rolling back and your legs shaking.
“Thought i was mean huh? Why’re you coming on a mean man’s cock?” he teased, his finger’s movements on your clit speeding up to drive you over the edge.
Cumming hard with the scream of his name, your sopping pussy gushing onto his cock. Gojo groaned deeply, his thrusts noisy as heavy balls slapped against your folds. Basking in the feeling of your perfect pussy before he was bottoming out in you.
“Gonna stuff this pussy nice ‘n full with my cum.” His movements stilling as he pumped ropes after ropes onto your walls. Painting them from red to white with a smile. “Look at that, greedy pussy’s swallowing it all.” Pulling out of you ever so slowly and watching as his cum spilled in tiny spurts as your hole spasmed.
You let out a breath, allowing your body to fall limp into the sheets as you panted. You should have seen that coming.
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slut4thebroken · 1 month ago
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size kink
── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
Pairing | Jason Todd x reader
Summary | He as a size kink. That’s it lol.
Warnings | Smut, size kink, manhandling, praise, creampie, gaping, cockwarming.
Words | 1k
Notes | 😵‍💫 that fucking comic panel tho
Ao3 link | <3
Masterlist
Kinktober | day 6: manhandling + size kink
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Can y’all help me come up with a title😭 I’m literally so exhausted and I just want to pass out but I have to post it within two hours for it to still be day 6 skfhsk
Jason Todd has a huge size kink… He’s so massive that it’s honestly hard not to because there are barely any female body types that aren’t smaller than him. Tall, big, buff— all smaller than him, usually by a lot too. 
Especially you. You’re pretty much the same size as the average woman, but standing next to Jason— he practically dwarfs you. Whenever he holds your hand, you usually end up just holding two of his fingers because it’s more comfortable that way. Even when he places his hand on your thigh, he can completely cover the entire width of it. 
Even though he loves the way it feels to hold you, how easy it is to lift you and manhandle you however he wants… one of his most favorite things is how small your cunt is too. It wasn’t abnormally small— it was proportionate to your body— but compared to his abnormally large cock? Even just compared to his fingers, you could barely take it. 
He always tried to do as much foreplay as possible because, even though he thinks it’s hot when your face scrunches up in pain as you do your best to take him, he doesn’t actually want to hurt you or make it not good for you. So he usually eats you out, slowly working you open on his fingers. He almost always gives you at least one orgasm before even attempting to fit his cock inside you, but even after the time he made you come over and over again for two hours straight, you were still so fucking tight. 
You let out these soft whimpers and sounds of pain that make his cock throb. Sometimes you gasp out and desperately cling to him, trying to ground yourself. He always eases his cock in slowly, holding your hand or cupping your cheek and whispering soft praises into your ear. 
“So good at taking my cock, baby. I’m almost halfway.” You whined and squeezed your eyes shut, focusing on taking deep breaths and relaxing your muscles. Jason couldn’t help but look down between your bodies, watching his cock slowly disappear into your tight heat. “Almost there, princess.” His voice was low and thick with poorly restrained arousal. When he finally bottomed out, you let out a pained whimper and he closed his eyes, trying not to bust his load right then and there. 
“Such a good girl. You’re doing so good, baby.” He murmured tenderly, leaning down to kiss over your neck as his hand snaked down to rub your clit. You usually signaled whenever you were ready for him to start moving and he’d slowly draw his hips back, then push in again at the same pace. 
Sometimes though, he’d stand and hold you in the air, lifting you up and down on his cock, limiting your squirming significantly. Or if you were riding him, he’d grab your hips and move you however fast and hard he wanted— even if you put all your strength into staying seated or moving away, he was always stronger than you. It took practically no effort for him to lift you up and down, fucking you like you were his own personal sex doll. 
While he usually liked being able to kiss you and watch your expression contort in pain as your walls were forced to accommodate his cock, he also liked putting you on your stomach. Sometimes he’d put you on your knees and push your face into the bed, but he liked laying on top of you even more. With his large legs caging in your much smaller ones, it made you even tighter. He loved being able to completely lay on top of you and wrap his arms around you, forcing you to feel every inch of his thick cock going in and out of your pussy. That position always made you feel trapped, but more in an exciting way rather than an anxious way because you knew he’d get off of you in a heartbeat if you told him to. 
“That’s it… Be a good girl and just take it, baby.” He whispered breathily, lips brushing your ear. You let out a choked moan and he moved his hand to squeeze your neck. “You just lay there and let me use my favorite little fleshlight.” Every single time— without fail— your cunt would get impossibly tighter when he talked to you like that. 
Something else he loved; the amount of come he released was proportional to his body as well… Sometimes he liked to paint your pretty face, completely drench you in his seed, but usually he liked filling you up. He liked dragging his hips back until his cock finally dislodged from your tight pussy that was practically trying to suck him in, and watching his come dribble out of your gaping hole, down your puffy folds. 
“Oh, look at you, baby…” He cooed, voice raspy and thick. You whined and squirmed, enjoying the feeling of him filling you up and his seed leaking out of your abused cunt almost as much as he did. 
“Squeeze that little cunt, princess. Try to keep my come inside.” He ordered softly, grabbing your ass and pulling you open to get a perfect view of your holes. He watched them flutter, but even when you tried your hardest, his cock had stretched you out too much for your hole to be able to tighten up again so soon. 
“Poor thing… can’t keep my come in that needy little pussy.” He chuckled, collecting the leaking come on his fingers and pushing it back into your hole. “But that’s okay, baby. I’ll help you…” you let out a choked moan when he forced his cock back in, stretching you once again, “keep you nice and plugged up, huh?” He laid down over you again, but turned so you were both on your sides in a spooning position with his cock still deep in your pussy— It would usually stay there until you fell asleep, but sometimes only until he got worked up enough for round two. 
(I’m still bad at ending one shots lol)
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ddejavvu · 2 months ago
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Cant stop thinking about Logan bending Wades darling little sister (in her 20s) over the kitchen table while Waded out on a mission. That is all I can think about right now
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Insatiable - Logan Howlett x Reader
send me logan requests!
contents/warnings: smut, minors dni. age gap (legal; reader is in her 20's, logan is like... 200 years old.), wilson!reader, dirty talk, slight breeding mentioned
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The only reason you're able to do it in the kitchen is because Wade isn't home, and you'd managed to shut the door on his pathetically endearing little dog. Mary Puppins is probably tearing up Wade's poor excuse for a comforter right now, and Logan is tearing up- well.
You.
Your pussy.
You're bent so far over the counter that your tits are cold, your nipples stiff and sensitive against the countertop. The pressure against them hurts, or maybe it's a lack of other stimulation against them- either way, they're stinging and you wish to right yourself and tug mercilessly at them.
But Logan's weight- not the full load, or you'd be crushed - is holding you down, your hands scrabbling uselessly at the smooth counter for purchase that you'll never find as you're rocked steadily into the cabinets below.
Logan's cock is buried so deep inside of you that you're not sure he'll ever get it out again, but then he does, and then he thrusts back in and you're hit all over again with a sense of shit, I didn't know I went that deep. He's found your limit, stretched your cunt to the breaking point with his impressive length, and his facial hair tickles the side of your face as he takes your cunt from behind.
Your face smacks painfully against the cabinets over the counter and Logan reaches a hand up to cover your forehead, "Shit, be careful. Head down, honey, there you go. Wouldn't want Big Brother finding an imprint of your face in the wood."
"Whaddya think he'd say?" Logan's suddenly snickering, a gruff delight to his voice as he rams his cock inside you once more, thrusting at a steady, merciless pace, "Shit, if he knew my old ass had his sweet little sister pinned up against the counter..."
Wade would kill him. Or try valiantly to, as it's been established before by Wade's best efforts that Logan is one difficult motherfucker to kill. But you don't fancy a bloodbath even if the vessel will survive, so you tuck yourself tight to the counter so that you won't have to explain to Wade why the cupboard door is off its hinges.
Leaning forwards more only pushes your ass out further, and Logan groans, dick twitching, as he's able to thrust more viciously beneath the curve of your ass. He's humping you like a dog, a depraved pace set as he chases an impending orgasm.
"Taking you in your brother's house- aagh, shit," Logan grunts, nose nudging against the back of your neck as he inhales your sweat, "God he's gonna drop his swords on this fucking counter as soon as he walks through the door, not- not even gonna know your tits were smashed up against it. He's gonna get coke from that cabinet in an hour," Logan's voice is strained, moreso the faster he pumps his hips, and all you can do is cry out as he ravages your cunt, "He's never gonna know I made his sister cream up against it. Never gonna know I fucked my fuckin' babies into you here, aah- agh-I-!"
Logan bites, hard against your shoulder, catching some of your neck in the process and introducing yet another blindingly painful sensation that turns into sick, twisted pleasure between your legs. Your cunt is spent, barely capable of another orgasm after you'd already had two fucked out of you before, but it gives you its best shot as Logan's thick, warm cum gushes into you, immediately too much for your poor pussy to handle as it drips down your thighs instead.
Logan relinquishes your shoulder with a low groan, his breath coming hot and heavy as he pants, "You alright?"
"Yeah," You whimper, legs shaking as Logan holds you steady, "I- I don't think I can stand anymore."
"That's okay." Logan hums, gentler now that he's fucked himself calm. He peels you off of the counter, supporting your body weight as he half-walks, half-drags you down the hallway towards his bedroom, "Next round's on my bed, sweetheart. You won't need to move a muscle."
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osaemu · 1 year ago
Text
GOJO SATORU: THINK I NEED SOMEONE OLDER
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✩ ‧ ˚. synopsis: what do you do when your boyfriend cheats? you go to his house and look for revenge, and you get it by fucking his dad! NSFW
contents: fem!reader. age gap, blowjob, praise, degradation, use of slut, slight dumbification, dirty talk, and possibly more. 2.6K words.
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you should've known that dating a rich boy came with more than just the money—it came with a shitty boyfriend too. 
as you walk to his house, rain falling in your eyes, you curse every time he had you do his homework, his bills, even his fucking laundry. that's what you get for dating the spoiled heir to the massive gojo fortune.
you step onto the gojo estate's porch, wondering what possessed you to come all the way here in the middle of the night without an umbrella. thank god you still had the key your ex had given you, since he was too stupid to remember to take it back after he dumped you.
hands shaking from the cold, you slip the key into the lock and turn, a small smile dancing across your lips when it opens as easily as your ex's legs. he was probably out fucking another girl right now, if the pictures on his instagram story were any hint of his whereabouts.
you push the door open with your shoulder and dry your feet on the doormat. his parents are never home, and it's late enough for the staff to have all gone back to their quarters. besides, even if one or two were still here, they probably didn't know you weren't their spoiled brat's girlfriend anymore.
humming the post-breakup revenge song you'd been listening to for the past hour, you tie up your hair and look around. the only reason you walked all the way here in the middle of a dark, stormy night was for revenge, and you weren't leaving without it.
on the way to your ex's room, you stop in one of the bathrooms to dry off. rainwater slides off your body as you wring out your hair in the sink, water dripping down your wrist as you do so.
you walk the familiar path to your ex's room, rolling your eyes when you see a bra on the floor that definitely isn't yours. funnily enough, you aren't surprised. there's no hurt, no sadness, just disgust. your suspicions were right—he was fucking other girls while the two of you dated. 
a sigh slips through your lips as you look around his room. it's messy, even with the help from the gojo estate's numerous staff. they say bigger rooms naturally look cleaner, and yet your ex's room still manages to mirror his mind—filthy.
you're so immersed in the thousand ideas you have to ruin your ex's life that when a deep, sleep-ridden voice asks you what the fuck you're doing in his house, you nearly jump out of your skin.
you spin around, words caught in your throat when you come face-to-face with satoru gojo, your ex-boyfriend's dad and the infamous head of the gojo family.
it's more than shameful that the first thought you have is that shit, he's hot. you've met before, but it was only in passing. satoru's never around, and the extent of your relationship was a brief nod as he passed you in one of the many passageways in the gojo estate. in fact, you aren't entirely sure if he even knows who you are.
satoru gojo's well-known in japan—not only is he the reason the gojo family has its reputation, but he's made quite a name for himself by being the most affluent and handsome of them all. 
you've heard stories about him back in his prime. most sound too far-fetched to be true, but the photos of him in his twenties that resurface from time-to-time make good material for your late-night fantasies. 
and satoru's even more intimidating in person. he's easily over six feet tall with well-defined muscles, and he's the definition of a dilf. he's probably twice your age, but the glint in his eyes and casual arrogance in his stance makes him all the more attractive.
it's a shame his son is such a dickhead.
"are you one of my son's whores?" satoru asks dryly, eying the bra on the floor. you scowl and kick it away, a soft huff slipping through your lips.
"no, i'm— wait, he never told you?" you cut yourself off with the question, a hint of incredulous disbelief in your tone. 
satoru shrugs, reaching up to ruffle his hair. his shirt slides up just enough to expose his abs, which are really fucking hot by any standards. "if you're asking about my son, he thankfully leaves me out of his sex life," he says amusedly. "so, who are you? and what the hell are you doing in my house this late?"
"i—" well, you couldn't just say you were here to ruin his son's life. "uh, i'm his... girlfriend."
satoru barks out a laugh, looking down at you through his long, white eyelashes. "really? you sure you're dating my son?"
you narrow your eyes and nod. satoru shakes his head, slipping one of his hands in his pocket and gesturing to the bra on the floor with the other. "either you aren't his girlfriend or you just found out he's cheating. which is it?"
well, you tried. "both." satoru raises his eyebrows at that and takes a seat on the chair across from his son's bed, exhaling as he does so. 
"so, sweetheart, what's the story?" he asks, a bored expression on his face. he leans back and spreads his legs enough for you to wonder what it'd be like to be in between them. 
not sensing that you really have a choice, you sit on the corner of his son's bed and start explaining. at first, you sugarcoat his son's actions, not wanting to sound like a whiny brat, but at one point he interjects with a sigh.
"i know my son," he says dryly, brushing his floppy white hair out of his eyes. "and i also know a liar when i see one."
"s' that so?" you mutter under your breath, ignoring the way satoru's eyes narrow at your side comment. from then on, you list every detail of just how shitty your ex was to you. you tell satoru how his son made you fold his clothes, how he dragged you to parties even when you swore you had homework, how he'd make you fu—
you stop there, not wanting to divulge every detail of your sex life. sure, your ex forced you to fuck him every night in every way he knew existed from watching porn, but that wasn't for his dad to know.
satoru, who's been listening intently for the last five minutes, studies your irritated expression thoughtfully. rather than comment on the way you suddenly stopped ranting, he asks, "so you're here for revenge?"
you nod, crossing your legs. satoru eyes you for another second before placing his hands on his knees and standing up with a soft grunt. "do whatever you want, but i want you out of my house in fifteen minutes. and whatever you do stays in this room. no fire."
satoru looks down at you and raises an eyebrow. "is that clear?"
it would be easier to agree if satoru wasn't looking down at you with an expression like that on his face. it's somewhere between mild irritation and disgust—whether it's directed at you or his son, you're not sure, but he probably has better things to do than listen to some girl's breakup story. so you nod, and satoru starts to leave.
just before he steps out the door, you think of a really fucking insane idea—one that would absolutely shatter your ex. and for some reason, you say it out loud.
"you should fuck me."
oh my god.
satoru turns around slowly, hand clenched around his phone. "the fuck?"
you swallow, eyes wide and a stupid grin plastered on your face. "shit, i—" you were ready to apologize for just about every word you've ever said, but satoru holds up his hand before you can start, cutting you off.
he scoffs, blue eyes glimmering with either amusement or annoyance. "you really are a piece of work, aren't ya?" satoru narrows his eyes, surveying you critically. his gaze settles on the way your shaky hands, and you hide them behind your back self consciously.
"you want me to fuck you on my son's bed?" he says dryly, stifling a laugh. when you force yourself to nod, he grins. "not bad, sweetheart. not bad at all."
"i-is that a yes?" you hate yourself for stuttering, but it makes satoru laugh.
"sure, why not?" he says, walking over to where you're still sitting on his son's bed and resting a hand on your shoulder. satoru rubs the side of your neck with his thumb, cerulean eyes fixed on your lips. "might be about time to teach my son a lesson anyways."
satoru's agreement surprises you enough to make your mouth fall open, and soon enough, his dick replaces the empty space between your lips.
"shit, you're takin' me so good, baby," satoru groans, hand tangled in your hair as he pushes his dick deeper into your throat. "yeah, that's it, jus' like tha— fuck," he cuts himself off with a breathy laugh as you nearly choke.
he's big, way bigger than your ex, and you wonder how his dad's big dick gene skipped him. and even better, satoru's skilled too. he knows how to fuck you good, and you can tell that it's from experience, not from watching porn—unlike his lame excuse of a son.
"tell me, sweetheart," satoru drawls, looking down at you with a cheeky smile. "was my son half as good as i am in bed?"
when you shake your head no, satoru clicks his tongue in disapproval. "shit, now y're gonna expect every guy you fuck with to be as good as me. well, sorry 'bout that, because they aren't."
at least you know where his son gets his arrogance from. 
it's getting a little hard to breathe, especially since you have ten inches of dick shoved down your throat. despite all satoru's talk, you can tell that he's getting close to cumming down your throat—his eyes are twitching and his breaths are starting to become more and more shaky as you suck him off. soon enough, the coil in his stomach snaps and he cums, cursing and praising you as he does. satoru's grip on your hair tightens, and it's borderline painful as he tugs you deeper by the hair.
"shit, that was the best head i've had in a while," he groans after his breathing starts to go back to normal. satoru grins at you, shaking his head and pinning you on your back on the bed.
"you've already been fucked by a gojo here, haven't you?" satoru cooes, tracing your jawline with one of his fingers. "tch, i'll fuck you better than my shithead son ever could. show ya the reason we gojos have a reputation for our dicks."
and fuck, he does. after quickly making you cum on his fingers with the excuse of loosening you up, he roughly shoves his dick in your already-throbbing pussy with a grin. he's so fucking big that you've convinced he's gonna rip you in half.
"g-gojo, i can't—"
"sure y'can," he cuts you off, jaw tightening as you tighten around him. "fuckin' hell, you're just tight as a virgin. my son must be shit in bed, yeah?"
"mhm," you hum, tilting back your head and gasping for air as you feel your body heat up. "shit— right there—"
satoru grins, dipping his head and meeting your tear-lidded eyes. he's far from gentle—it's barely been a couple minutes and your back is already in the highest arch of your life, and it's hard to form coherent thoughts as satoru continues bullying his cock into your pussy.
you lose track of time easily—fuck, you forget there's even a world outside of whatever this is. at some point your tongue falls out of your mouth, lolling to the side as your eyes roll back—just a dumb slut for satoru; or at least that's what he calls you.
as you approach what must be the hundredth orgasm of the night, satoru asks you to say his name. it's almost embarrassing how much effort it is to say—he's fucked you dumb enough to the point where you're a babbling mess.
"shit, you can't even talk," satoru says with a grin, flicking your forehead playfully. "cute." he rests his elbow by your head and shoves his hand over your mouth, amusement dancing in his eyes. "you talk too much anyways, princess. take a break."
you whine against his hand and satoru shakes his head, a faux pout on his face. "c'mon, it's not like you can talk anyways," he tsks. his next thrust is particularly rough, and you can't seem to remember who the name of the dickhead who got you in this situation—what was your ex's name again? does it matter?
"yeah i can" you mumble, voice muffled by satoru's hand. when his pout deepens, you can't help but giggle, a sound that soon turns to a squeal when he pushes the side of your face into the mattress.
"what's so funny?" satoru grumbles, dipping his head and pressing his lips against the hand seperating your mouth from his. satoru's glimmering eyes are fixed on yours as a cheeky smile spreads across his face. "fine then."
he pulls out, cursing under his breath as he presses his back to the headboard. satoru ignores the hm? that slips out of your lips and removes his hand from your mouth, resting it on his dick instead and stroking it with a smirk. "what is it, princess?"
"wha— why'd you stop?"
satoru lifts his other wrist, studying the watch on it and turning his hand so you can see too. your vision is still so fucked up that the numbers look like swimming otters, but you can vaguely make out the time.
"it's been fifteen minutes, kid. time to go."
your mouth falls open and you sit up, still breathing heavily. one second you're having the best sex of your life, and the next your ex's dad is calling you kid and telling you it's time to go?
"not fair," you mumble, pulling your legs into your chest and resting your head on your knees. "that was a stupid time limit," you huff, chest heaving. "i couldn't have done anything to him in fifteen minutes anyways."
satoru snorts, stretching his arms and resting his hands behind his head. "i'd say we did something in those fifteen minutes," he says dryly, white hair falling into his eyes. 
"hmph."
satoru raises his eyebrows, biting the inside of his lip as he continues stroking himself. you notice the way his abs flex and tense the closer he gets; something that shouldn't be as attractive as it is.
"can't believe my dumbass son fucked up so badly with a girl like you," he groans after a minute, back resting against the headboard as he continues stroking his dick. "won't be seein' you around here again, huh?"
you blink, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear as satoru eyes you intently. "what d'you mean?"
before satoru can answer, the two of you hear footsteps, and before either of you can do anything, standing in the doorway to his own room is your ex, a giggling girl on his arm. the faint scent of alcohol floods through your nose as they stumble in, and it's all you can do to stop yourself from laughing when your ex sees that his bed is already occupied.
"why the hell is my dad in bed with my ex-girlfriend?!"
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screampied · 7 months ago
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hey i LOVE your work and ykk ou ur toji is just like… UGHHHH
could you do a mean toji who just mocks the reader and makes fun of her while she gets off on him (like idk his thighs or whatever) or when he fucks her? i feel like you would write this very well;)
❤︎ ໋𓈒 toji mocking your moans while you ride him
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warnings. fem! reader, thigh riding & cowgirl, dirty talk, praise, ōrgasm denial, breath play, spanking. + thank you sm !! mdni
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“we’re quite handsy today, huh,” he’d mumble once his eyes flicker down towards your nude body—you suck in a single breath as he’s got you just barely straddling his lap. with an unsatisfied pout, you’re just here moving up and down against his beefy thigh—oh so desperately wishing that you were riding him instead of his stupid, stupid leg. toji’s amusement only fuels the more you frown and scowl, pawing your hands up his perfectly chiseled thighs before he snickers. “what’s the issue? my thigh not enough to satisfy the pretty girl?”
“no..” you immediately say, throwing your arms around his broad shoulders. he could hear the irritation linger on your tone before you bury your face into his neck . . a good waft of his loud cologne scent infiltrating inside your nostrils.
two rugged hands drag down your back, sending you multiple shivers from his touch before he replies in a hoarse tone. “well, that’s too damn bad,” and his chortling laugh only makes you throb from how close it’s against your ear—fuck. “actually, y’know what. i feel like bein’ nice today, baby. you want more than my thigh? how ‘bout ya jus’ ask me nicely.”
“but—”
“but—nothin’ girl, now speak,” toji utters, feeling your grinding against his thigh—grabbing your chin softly before making you stare him right in the eyes. he slyly grins, a thumb tracing down your dampened lip. “i’ll wait.. talk to me nice, girl.”
your eyes avert towards his dick, just laying there on his stomach—so ridiculously lengthy, a mere tannish color coats it - including his leaky tip that stares right back at you.
it looks so good, you wanted him inside so bad that it hurts—he could tell too, you found it hard to stay still as you made a cute attempt at rutting against him once more.
“i— i want you, ‘toji,” you claw at his body with doe lit eyes, his swollen base—so full of unused seed that you desperately yearned for it to be inside of you, filling up your pretty little womb. “want you s'bad.”
“oh i know you do, babygirl,” he rasps, he can’t help but notice the sudden boner that makes his jaw tighten. coarse big hands grip both of your hips before he gawks at you with that same tantalizingly smug grin. “can’t just spoil ya all the time though, talk more for me. i like listenin’ to that needy voice.”
ugh, you start to grow impatient and he only laughs at your sheer annoyed expense.
“please,” you murmur out in a whiney tone, slowly wrapping your clammy fingers around his length. he doesn’t stop you, he lets you touch all over him, aligning yourself with the fat weight of his cock that was just aching to be buried within you. “i wanna ride you so bad, ‘toj. need it, need your cum.”
“girl you don’t need . . . shit,” he swallows, a cold sweat breaking onto him.
you’re fucking hot—especially whenever you just take what you want, toji could have creamed his pants at just your voice and your voice alone.
you had him so hard, he sucks his teeth in total exasperation before he feels you slowly start to sink him down. “fuck, y’er such a little brat,” he mutters, feeling the warmth of your walls swallow him whole. it was a moist feeling, you were already a bit soaked—purely from riding his thigh for how many minutes, you weren’t even sure anymore, nor did you even relatively care. “ride me then, do y’er fuckin’ worst then.”
“shut up and i will.” you snap back.
he rolls his eyes, feeling your ass thrash against his lap and it makes him squeeze the plush mounds of your rear.
“eh, i really don’t like that mouth,” and he spanks you harder, this time it stings and you moan—he’s so thick that your stomach starts to seize once you feel him gradually reach into the depths of your pussy. “when you ride me, there shouldn’t be any back talk, girl,” and he grabs your chin for the nth time, pressing a sweltering wet kiss right onto your glossed lips. “. . . are we clear or do i gotta let this pussy know what goes ‘round here.”
…so cocky,
you gnaw at your lip—fighting back the urge to roll your own eyes backwards before you thrust against him harder.
it’s relentless, the brutal skin-to-skin contact makes a raw moan harshly yank from the back of your throat as your hands continue to claw on his chest.
his bare chest that was already glistening with droplets of sweat. he was so toned, his pecs—his nipples that were swollen and a sheeny pink color, you even attempt to lean in to lap your tongue against his nipple but he lightly shoves you back.
“leave those alone, slut,” and you conceal back a laugh—by 'those', he was most likely referring to his tits broad pecs. “ride me, ‘n hurry up. ‘m gonna fall asleep at this rate.”
toji never knew how to simply shut the fuck up, such a talkative man—whispering filthy sweet nothings into your ear as you’re taking every thick inch of his cock. he stretches you out so good that you’re already whimpering, eyes goggling profusely at the way his angry tip just thwacks and thwacks against your g-spot. “s-shiiit, toji,” you’d curse out in a sharp breath, continuing to drag your hips further against him at such a pace.
in and out, in and out, you’re rotating your waist a bit before he grunts lowly, head throwing back and he smacks your ass yet again, and again, and again. “fuck yeah, ride me jus’ like that. such a good girl, takin’ this dick like the good girl you are, mhm.”
“t—tojiiiii,” you’d mewl out right against the flapping shell of his ear. your cunt felt so stuffed, a straining exhale snatches from your lungs before you whimper once his base kisses against your ass. his base was so full, you only imagined how much build up cum was stored in there just for you.
“t—tojiiiiiii,” he mimics your tone as you mash against him, the sofa he sits on sinking down a bit from both weights combined. you pout once he starts mocking you, a gruff laugh dies from his throat before he squeezes your right ass cheek. “feels good, yeah? keep moanin’ for me like that.”
“shut up, s-shut uppp,” you moan, burying your face into his neck. doing so, you get a concise whiff of his cheap cologne and it smells so good. you’re a mess, spasming as your stomach continues to seize before he grabs both of your hips so that you could slam down onto him even harder. “close, toji. ‘m really close, fuck.”
he groans, feeling the hefty weight of his balls smack against your skin each time you move up, then down, then up . . . all over again. toji’s a big guy, it was no secret. the way your pussy constricts around his length, paving way for more movement . . . simply hypnotizing.
“yeahhh,” he snarls, strong hands still attached to your ass. green irises of his dilate, his eyes turn hooded for a second as he glances back at you. an entire mess, tongue all lolled out and you’re feeling it steadily about to approach. “look so fuckin’ dumb,” he points out with a subtle head shake, grabbing your chin again. “my dumb baby,” he corrects himself and your pout softens.
he’s so fucking big— you’ll point this out a million times if you have to, the stretch was so immaculate.
toji groans, pressing another saturated kiss onto your lips and you taste a brief mixture of his saliva and alcohol—presumably rum, you lean into his touch before feeling his big hands snake near your neglected tits. his growing stubble tickles against your face as you quicken your pace. so good, so fucking good.
all you can think about is that you’re getting off, you’re about to finish— gush out so much, you feel a familiar pit in your stomach arise. he feels you starting to shake and twitch, it’s cute.
“. . easy, now,” he teases, finding it adorable how whenever your orgasm approaches—you’d be an entire mess, pussy convulsing all on his cock as if it was the first time you ever took him. “oh my just look at that pout,” he points out, reaching towards your chin before bringing you all up close towards his face. not to mention, toji’s so pretty up close—ten times more intimidating with his low hazy eyes and wide sleazy smile. “such a baby. want me to talk ya through it?”
“p—please,” you whine, barely even giving him a chance to finish his seductive sentence.
with a playful eyebrow furrow, he makes you grind against him even harder. the sofa creaks and you squeak out a whimper, feeling yourself about to make such a mess. “please, please,” he copies your tone again, and it’s so embarrassing. toji purposely pitches his tone to sound like you and he snickers at the growing glare on your face. “please what, babygirl?”
with an irritated grumble, your flimsy arms still thrown over him, you moan out a desperate, “please let me c-cum. toji, i want it s’bad, pleaseplease let me be a messy girl.”
“. . . ahhhh,” he parts his lips, and he’s oh so dramatic, flickering his eyes towards the ceiling as if he’s deep in thought. “let me think about it.”
you didn’t know how much you could take, you’re sopping wet and his raspy deep voice that was right up against your earlobe doesn’t make things any better.
jagged breaths rip out from your esophagus as your shaky limbs could barely keep themselves up. he cackles, feeling your soft quavering lips kiss near his face, brushing against the scar that runs near the right lower part of his lip. it twitches as a response from your touch, how cute..
“hurry the fuck up then, lay it all on me,” he finally grunts, witnessing the way your dilated irises light up at his sudden permission— you whimper out, finally coming undone and it’s like a rough wave that crashes over you. the calm before the storm, once it comes, you’re left pulsating with his thick dick still buried inside of your cunt. you hug him tight with your walls like a vice, never wanting to let go. “you make such the silliest noises, girl.”
“s— shut up,” you moan, the under parts of your thighs aching heavily as you’re still in the midst of your teeth-shattering release. it feels so good, your maw drops and the contracts inside of your pussy only duplicates. it’s mouth watering, you grind against him just slightly and he spanks your ass, head going back. “i- i love you, toji.”
“i love me too,” he jibes with a cocky grin, sweat beads racing down the sides of his brow. you shoot him a glare and he rolls his eyes for the nth time. “. . kidding,” and he plants a kiss near your forehead, rough hand still attached to your right ass cheek like velcro. “i love you too, sweetheart.”
you’re still panting, but he’s clearly not done talking— it’s toji, figures.
“now bend the fuck over,” he grouses, eyes gazing towards your ass— a tongue goes against his lips like he was preparing for an appetizing meal. “i’m not finished. we gotta work on that lazy arch of yours, girl.”
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i-am-hungry-24-7 · 7 months ago
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Simon taking care of you when you accidentally injured yourself. Just fluff cuz I need fluff :D .
cw: pet names (princess, love etc.)
“Simon, I’m home!”
You opened the front door, only to see Simon sitting on the couch. Hearing your voice, he raised his head from the book he was infatuated with these days, and a low hum left him as a welcome.
“I’ll go shower first, the weather’s hot as hell, and I’m stink.”
You tossed the key onto the plate, nonchalantly passed your lover, but Simon could sense the difference in your movements.
“Stop.”
He stood up from the couch, and came straight towards you.
Oh no, you’re so fucked up.
“Hey, Si! I’m dirty! put me down!”
Simon ignored your yelling, scooping you up and over his shoulder.
“Don’t move.”
He demanded, and you swallowed hard when he grabbed your left ankle, and lifted the trouser legs.
“You’re hiding this from me?” His coffee-like brown eyes narrowed in disapproval, throwing you daggers while all you could do was let out a sigh.
“Sorry, Simon. Don’t want to concern you.”
Crooking his eyebrow, Simon darted his eyes back to observe the wound on your left calf. A long, deep cut went across half of your flesh, blood just managed to stop dripping, and fortunately didn’t stick your injury to the clothes.
“Where do you get this?”
“The parking lot of the market. Didn’t see a rock and stumble over it, and the pin sticking out of a wall dug into my leg when I tried to steady myself.” You shrugged.
You knew he was worried and hated to see you get hurt, that’s why you try to sneak to the bathroom and deal with it yourself. Simon’s eyes softened when he learned how you get yourself injured, but you had a feeling that he wouldn’t allow you to do things alone for at least a week.
“let’s go shower.” He picked you up swiftly as if you weighed nothing, and you just melted into his touch.
“You gonna help me?” Even though you knew the answer, you still asked when he strode to the bathroom.
“You think there’s other options?”
“... No.”
“Good Girl.” planting a kiss on your forehead, he kicked open the door.
“Close your eyes, don’t want to sting them, love.”
Your satisfied grumble when his hands attentively scratched your head made Simon chuckle. He put you in the warm bathtub, and the little chair looked comical under his bulky stature, but you didn’t laugh at him this time, instead focusing on his hands.
His hands, working magically through your hair, carefully not to tug your hair with too much strength. The hands that always protect you, the hands that are littered with scars, soaked with blood, but massage your shoulders when you are tired, shuffle your hair when you playfully argue with him, place on your belly when he hugs you from behind and whispered his affection to you.
He reserved all his tenderness to you, and you wondered why you were lucky enough to have this man as yours.
“Told you to close your eyes, love.”
You smiled when Simon finally discovered you had been staring at him from the start.
“Am I not allowed to watch my beautiful husband?”
“Don’t complain when the sud run into those pretty eyes then.” He huffed out a laugh.
When it came to you, he just couldn’t do anything but surrender to your adorable cheekiness. He thought when he couldn’t help but give your cheek a peck.
You sat on the edge of your bed now. Simon had dry your hair, and made you put on your underwear and his black shirt.
He was kneeling in front of you now, picking through the gauze and disinfectant. He seemed to find all the things he needed. Placing them aside, he took your ankle in his hand again.
“It’ll hurt a bit.”
He traced circles on your thigh to soothe the pain when he sprayed the antiseptic on your wound and waited for it to dry.
“You’re doing well, love. We’re almost finished.”
He cooed when he saw you blinked away a tear hanging on the corner of your eye.
Nodding, you watched him cover the wound with gauze and secure it.
“Thank you, Si.”
You chanted softly when his thumb caressed on the tape. Simon didn’t let go of your ankle when you thanked him, but landed a kiss beside the gauze.
“A spell for faster healing” The childish glints in his eyes were obvious when he lifted his head to meet your eyes.
“Don’t know you’re such a romantic person, baby.” You poke his cheek with a laugh.
“Guess there’s more of me yet for you to figure out.
He threw the bottles back into the medkit, and finally stood up after kneeling for ten minutes.
“Anything you want now, princess?”
“cuddle with me, Simon. The wound hurts.”
“Who’s the one trying to hide it thirty minutes ago?”
Lying on your back on the bed, his blonde hair shined under the light, but not brighter than the languid smirk he wore on his lips.
“Are you saying you don’t want to cuddle with me now?”
“Are there other options?”
“of course not, handsome.” You worm yourself into the comforter, and beckoned him to join you.
Slump down on the bed, he wiggled himself into his usual cuddling posture, arms snaked around your waist, and covered your belly with his palm.
“Anything for you, love.” You felt he kissed the shell of your ear when your eyes closed under the coziness.
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criminalamnesia · 8 months ago
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Hiii!! I hope you're doing well :))
I just loveee the traitor series. Do you plan on making a part 5 or more?
thank you! here’s part five :)
the other parts can be found in my COD masterlist, which is here
ALL PARTS CAN BE FOUND HERE
I’ll proofread later :))
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you stormed out of the gym, eyesight blurry from hot tears. you weren’t crying because you were sad— no. you were furious. furious at how simon was so fucking stubborn. at how he thought he was in the right.
droplets of blood marked your footsteps as you made your way back to the infirmary. you weren’t particularly anxious to be yelled at by the doctor, but getting it over with as soon as possible was ideal.
“bonnie, y’alrigh’?”
soap. you hadn’t even seen him, so lost in your thoughts. you blinked away tears and ignored the scot, continuing to make your way down the hall in silence.
the sound of hurried footsteps was unmistakable behind you. soap wasn’t taking silence for an answer, apparently.
“bonnie, please—” he began, the drawl of his voice catapulting your mind to the past. to better days.
days when soap had patched you up after a fight, his fingers nimble as he stitched up a cut in your thigh.
“s’it hurt?” he spoke, voice gravelly because of his hushed tone.
you shook your head. your head was tilted back, eyes staring up at the ceiling but not truly seeing. you were worried sick— you and soap were the only ones who’d made it to the safe house so far. the others should’ve beaten you there, and now they were over an hour late.
“bonnie, ‘m sure they’re alrigh’,” he told you, poking the needle through skin. you barely felt it, too hyped up on fear and adrenaline.
“they should’ve beaten us here, y’know that—” you began, but he tutted, quickly cutting you off.
“cannae think like tha’, bonnie. they’ll be here any second, aye?”
he stops his stitching, his face tilting up and away from your leg. you faintly register the feeling of his eyes on you.
you felt lost— floating in sea of numbness. your mind is mulling over the millions of possibilities— possibilities in which they never return.
you’d never felt this way before, and the five of you had endured far worse.
the only thing that was different this time was the fact that you and simon were together. you’d never explicitly told the rest of the task force, but they knew.
johnny knew why you were so worked up. he understood.
he reaches a hand up, his dirtied fingers lightly tilting your chin down so you’re face to face.
“y’there?” he asks, his hand dropping from your chin. he moves to squeeze one of your hands, pulling you back down to the ground.
you give a small nod, fingers moving to intertwine with his. he smiles— not his usual playful expression, but a true, grateful, relieved smile.
“im here,” you tell him. he releases your hand, pulling away from your skin, giving your hand a light pat before fully retreating.
“‘m almost finished, yeah? then I’ll go lookin’—”
“no need.”
it’s kyle, breathing heavily as he shuffles into the room. price and ghost are right on his heels, the three men making the room feel much smaller than it did a moment ago.
“you two good?” kyle asks, a small frown on his lips as he takes note of your bloodied leg.
you nod, your eyes flitting from gaz, to price, to simon— who is now moving towards you. he crouches down so he’s eye level with you. you meet his gaze, and although he doesn’t say it, you know what he’s thinking.
he’s relieved, and it’s a deeper relief than usual. it’s heavier, more profound, because he’s started to let you in. you’re more than teammates now, and it doesn’t truly hit ghost until this moment.
“im good,” you tell him quietly. he nods, glances down at where johnny is tying off your stitches.
johnny must notice ghost’s stare, because he breaks his focus and looks up at his lieutenant with a cheeky smirk.
“no worries, LT. made sure to do ma best work,” he grins and shoots the other man a wink, to which ghost grunts, unamused.
the heavy weight of a palm on your shoulder breaks you from the memory. you move without thinking, bloodied fist swinging as you whirl around to attack whoever laid a hand on you.
then you remember— soap.
johnny narrowly dodges your assault, his eyes widened as your fist barely clips him.
“steamin’ jesus!” he speaks, throwing his hands up in surrender and taking a step back from you.
“i was jus’ tryin’ to make sure ya were alrigh’! yer bleedin’, bonnie.”
you blink as you slowly escape your stupor. you’d completely lost yourself in the memory, and you didn’t know why.
probably because your brain was trying to comfort itself the only way it knew how— by seeking comfort from the people closest to you.
old habits, right?
old fucking habits.
“don’t touch me,” you seethe, eyes narrowing as you glare at the scot. he frowns, bites his lip, but doesn’t say anything.
like a kicked puppy. you can’t help but feel sympathetic before you wrestle that feeling back down. he wasn’t sympathetic for you— why should you be for him?
you look at him for a moment longer, taking in his appearance. he looks fine, and that angers you just the slightest bit more.
“look, i— i ken we really messed up, and sorry cannae fix tha’, but please, bonnie. a’least let us try—”
“I don’t owe you anything, mactavish.” you told him, gaze cold as you met his eyes. “and you’re right, sorry can’t fix it. nothing can fix it; so, stop trying.” you step forward, raising a hand as you point a finger into his chest.
“the four of you need to leave me the fuck alone. frankly, I couldn’t care less about how the four of you feel. about how he feels. you did what you did, believed what you believed, and now you have to live with that.”
johnny’s frown deepens as his eyes glance down at the finger you’ve got digging into his sternum.
“you deserve to feel like shit,” you tell him. “and anything you feel— how sorry you are— just know that I suffered a hundred times more in that chair, locked up in that room. so the next time you wanna watch me from outside the infirmary, or you wanna put your fucking hands on me,” your jaw is clenched, fire licking at your veins as you speak to him.
“remember what you did. remember that nothing can fix it. remember that you’re dead to me— all of you are— and that I never would’ve let that happen to any of you.”
“and I hope it hurts like hell, mactavish. I hope it eats you alive, and that you never find peace because you don’t deserve it.”
you drop your hand, your eyes still on his.
“and I hope you tell the rest of them I said that. especially him.”
you turn then, take a steadying breath, and keep walking.
soap watches you go without another word.
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“that was stupid,” the doctor chastises you, her lips pressed into a thin line as she examines your knuckles.
“you blatantly went against my one rule for you. I shouldn’t have even let you out of bed, but you’re too damn stubborn! so I thought I’d give you some grace, but there you go— leaving my iv pole in the hall. bloodying your knuckles. I should let one of the newbies patch you up,” she grumbles, her gloved hands cool against your skin.
over the time you’d spent in the infirmary, you and the doctor had formed an odd bond. it was almost as if you were friends, but she always kept things strictly professional.
but you’d catch her giving you sad glances sometimes. you knew she was upset for you, angry for you, but she would never speak on it. that was okay with you.
it was enough to know that someone was on your side.
“sorry, doc. it’s not like it was planned,” you tell her, and her eyes flick up to meet yours. the look on your face told her everything she needed to know.
she didn’t push the topic. instead, she finished patching you up in silence. wrapping your knuckles in bandages, she gave them one last once-over before sending you on your way.
“kicking me out?” you asked her, raising your eyebrows.
she nodded, her eyes scanning the chart in her hands.
“if you’re okay enough to throw a punch, i think you’re okay enough to return to your quarters. unless you want to stay,” she says, and its unspoken, but you know what she’s implying.
unless you want to stay behind that door, guarded from the 141. unless you don’t want to go back to your quarters and see it as you’d left it before they’d tied you up.
unless it would be too painful to leave.
you shook your head. “im good. thank you, doc. really.”
the doctor gave a small smile and nodded. “of course. you’re due back in a week for a check up, alright? I need to check on those bruises and mending bones.”
you nod and give her a smile that doesn’t reach your eyes. “wouldn’t miss it.”
she bids you goodbye before turning and disappearing behind a white curtain. you inhale deeply before heading for the door.
when you step into the hallway, it’s quiet. you pass through base with relative ease, quickly slipping past anyone you come across in the halls.
you don’t see any of the 141, and you’re grateful. you couldn’t handle another interaction with them today— and you didn’t know how much longer you could remain civil.
once you reached your door, you pushed into the dusty darkness of the room. it’d been a while since you’d been in here, and although you were glad to finally be free of the smell and sounds of the infirmary, you weren’t particularly happy to be back in this room.
this room, which was down the hall from the rest of the 141.
this room, which held memorabilia of your time with your team.
this room, which you swore still smelled like simon.
you grit your teeth, willing yourself to stop thinking about him. he was fucking everywhere, and you were starting to believe you’d never be free of him and the 141.
your memories. your pain. your scars. no matter how much you healed and moved on from what happened, it would always be there in the back of your mind. it would sneak up on you when you least expected it; it would haunt your dreams at night.
it would leave you waking up screaming for mercy.
it would keep you untrusting for the years to come.
you flicked on the light and scanned the room. it had been upended, clothes strewn across the floor and picture frames shattered.
in the midst of it all, a vase of long dead flowers sits atop your desk.
there’s a little note hanging off the vase. against your better judgement, you reach for it. the paper feels scratchy against your fingers, and the scribbled pencil inside seems the tiniest bit faded.
your eyes scan the note.
‘You were right.
Hope you can understand.’
— sr
you pick up the vase and throw it against the wall. glass shatters. dead flowers fall to the floor.
your knees give out and you crumple to the floor, sitting amidst reminders of once was.
you let yourself cry for the first time in a while.
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