Tumgik
#so heres preTS
attyattlaw · 4 months
Text
Tumblr media
one of these days ill make a poll on what wip i should actually finish
what an insufferable bastard
Tumblr media
2K notes · View notes
Text
It's the right of every transmasc to use their old girl clothes as lingerie <3
44 notes · View notes
Note
okay so aside from the fact that this was probably my favourite chapter yet (!!!), it also served as a much needed reminder that no matter how aloof and mysterious oao!remus comes across, he is wearing SOCKS AND SANDALS throughout this whole ordeal
EXACTLY also this is an apt time to remind ppl that this is how remus pulls up to clubs <3
Tumblr media Tumblr media
this is y'alls dream man???? alright<3
30 notes · View notes
dabidagoose · 9 months
Text
Ok I might be crazy but I think the screams Taylor used in this episode are the exact screams I used in my sound design final project
7 notes · View notes
youssefguedira · 7 months
Text
bored with half an hour til the grocery store opens anyone got anything to Discuss
3 notes · View notes
randomnameless · 1 year
Text
Tumblr media
Step 1 : Sacrifice peasants to inherit their wrath
Tumblr media
Step 2 : Kill a goddess for her IdEaLs
Who wants ludonarrative coherence ?
4 notes · View notes
destinyudogie · 2 years
Text
having to put uni events in my calendar again this is soooo evil and cruel to me i'm just a baby :(
1 note · View note
jewishvitya · 5 months
Text
A pro-Palestine Jew on tiktok asked those of us who were raised pro-Israel, what got us to change our minds on Palestine. I made a video to answer (with my voice, not my face), and a few people watched it and found some value in it. I'm putting this here too. I communicate through text better than voice.
So I feel repetitive for saying this at this point, but I grew up in the West Bank settlements. I wrote this post to give an example of the extent to which Palestinians are dehumanized there.
Where I live now, I meet Palestinians in day to day life. Israeli Arab citizens living their lives. In the West Bank, it was nothing like that. Over there, I only saw them through the electric fence, and the hostility between us and Palestinians was tangible.
When you're a child being brought into the situation, you don't experience the context, you don't experience the history, you don't know why they're hostile to you. You just feel "these people hate me, they don't want me to exist." And that bubble was my reality. So when I was taught in school that everything we did was in self defense, that our military is special and uniquely ethical because it's the only defensive military in the world - that made sense to me. It slotted neatly into the reality I knew.
One of the first things to burst the bubble for me was when I spoke to an old Israeli man and he was talking about his trauma from battle. I don't remember what he said, but it hit me wrong. It conflicted with the history as I understood it. So I was a bit desperate to make it make sense again, and I said, "But everything we did was in self defense, right?"
He kinda looked at me, couldn't understand at all why I was upset, and he went, "We destroyed whole villages. Of course we did. It was war, that's what you do."
And that casual "of course" stuck with me. I had to look into it more.
I couldn't look at more accurate history, and not at accounts by Palestinians, I was too primed against these sources to trust them. The community I grew up in had an anti-intellectual element to it where scholars weren't trusted about things like this.
So what really solidified this for me, was seeing Palestinian culture.
Because part of the story that Israel tells us to justify everything, is that Palestinians are not a distinct group of people, they're just Arabs. They belong to the nations around us. They insist on being here because they want to deny us a homeland. The Palestinian identity exists to hurt us. This, because the idea of displacing them and taking over their lands doesn't sound like stealing, if this was never theirs and they're only pretending because they want to deprive us.
But then foods, dances, clothing, embroidery, the Palestinian dialect. These things are history. They don't pop into existence just because you hate Jews and they're trying to move here. How gorgeous is the Palestinian thobe? How stunning is tatreez in general? And when I saw specific patterns belonging to different regions of Palestine?
All of these painted for me a rich shared life of a group of people, and countered the narrative that the Palestininian identity was fabricated to hurt us. It taught me that, whatever we call them, whatever they call themselves, they have a history in this land, they have a right to it, they have a connection to it that we can't override with our own.
I started having conversations with leftist friends. Confronting the fact that the borders of the occupied territories are arbitrary and every Israeli city was taken from them. In one of those conversations, I was encouraged to rethink how I imagine peace.
This also goes back to schooling. Because they drilled into us, we're the ones who want peace, they're the ones who keep fighting, they're just so dedicated to death and killing and they won't leave us alone.
In high school, we had a stadium event with a speaker who was telling us about a person who defected from Hamas, converted to Christianity and became a Shin Bet agent. Pretty sure you can read this in the book "Son of Hamas." A lot of my friends read the book, I didn't read it, I only know what I was told in that lecture. I guess they couldn't risk us missing out on the indoctrination if we chose not to read it.
One of the things they told us was how he thought, we've been fighting with them for so long, Israelis must have a culture around the glorification of violence. And he looked for that in music. He looked for songs about war. And for a while he just couldn't find any, but when he did, he translated it more fully, and he found out the song was about an end to wars. And this, according to the story as I was told it, was one of the things that convinced him. If you know know the current trending Israeli "war anthem," you know this flimsy reasoning doesn't work.
Back then, my friend encouraged me to think more critically about how we as Israelis envision peace, as the absence of resistance. And how self-centered it is. They can be suffering under our occupation, but as long as it doesn't reach us, that's called peace. So of course we want it and they don't.
Unless we're willing to work to change the situation entirely, our calls for peace are just "please stop fighting back against the harm we cause you."
In this video, Shlomo Yitzchak shares how he changed his mind. His story is much more interesting than mine, and he's much more eloquent telling it. He mentions how he was taught to fear Palestinians. An automatic thought, "If I go with you, you'll kill me." I was taught this too. I was taught that, if I'm in a taxi, I should be looking at the driver's name. And if that name is Arab, I should watch the road and the route he's taking, to be prepared in case he wants to take me somewhere to kill me. Just a random person trying to work. For years it stayed a habit, I'd automatically look at the driver's name. Even after knowing that I want to align myself with liberation, justice, and equality. It was a process of unlearning.
On October, not long after the current escalation of violence, I had to take a taxi again. A Jewish driver stopped and told me he'll take me, "so an Arab doesn't get you." Israeli Jews are so comfortable saying things like this to each other. My neighbors discussed a Palestinian employee, with one saying "We should tell him not to come anymore, that we want to hire a Jew." The second answered, "No, he'll say it's discrimination," like it would be so ridiculous of him. And the first just shrugged, "So we don't have to tell him why." They didn't go through with it, but they were so casual about this conversation.
In the Torah, we're told to treat those who are foreign to us well, because we know what it's like to be the foreigner. Fighting back against oppression is the natural human thing to do. We know it because we lived it. And as soon as I looked at things from this angle, it wasn't really a choice of what to support.
25K notes · View notes
saetoru · 7 months
Text
✩ ‧₊˚ ✩ ONE KISS IS ALL IT TAKES — GOJO SATORU.
contents. fem! reader, minors do not interact, lots of morning kissies :(, reader is a jujutsu teacher, dry humping, praise, satoru cumming early in his pants like the loser boy he is, implied cunnilingus at the end
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
just one more kiss, baby is never just one more kiss when it’s satoru. you’ve always known that—but maybe that’s why you let it happen. it’s always the same story: one kiss becomes two, then two becomes three, and then suddenly there’s a lot more than kissing and a lot less than getting ready for the day.
but satoru’s got missions. and you’ve got kids to teach. there isn’t a day to rest, let alone afford tardiness in the jujutsu world. but satoru likes to test the waters—likes to push the limit as much as he can.
so he does. he’s leaning in for more, breath heavier as he pulls you closer, always just a little closer until you feel like you’re millimeters from sinking into his skin. it’s still not enough, you sense, because he bites at your bottom lip with a groan.
“satoru,” you pause when he kisses you again, “we need to get—” another kiss “—ready for the day—”
“just one more,” he insists.
“it’s already been loads more,” you press a hand to his mouth, blocking his lips from touching yours as he pouts against you. you grin, shaking your head as you stare at him fondly. “we have things to do. both of us.”
“can’t they wait?” he grumbles, muffled against your palm. you roll your eyes, moving your hand to cup his cheek as you stroke the swell of it fondly with your thumb.
“if you’re good, and you finish your duties early, i’ll kiss you all you want,” you tease—he huffs, unimpressed by the offer.
“you still kiss me when i’m bad, what’s the point?”
“so you admit you’re bad,” you raise a brow, making him grin cheekily.
“i can be,” he shrugs, “i love when you put me in my place.”
“you’re too much,” you sigh tiredly. it only makes him chuckle, leaning in again as his lips hover over yours, making you inhale sharply as you feel his breath fan over your mouth.
“know what i love more, though?” he asks with that smug tone of his—it’s the kind of tone that only someone like gojo satoru can get away with having. he’s eyeing you knowingly as you swallow thickly.
“no,” you lie. he knows you’re lying because your eyes dart down to the tent in his boxers momentarily.
“think you do,” he hums, pulling you to straddle his hips as your clothed cunt presses against his hard-on. you can practically feel him twitch against you through the fabric, can practically feel the sweet drops of pre cum that coat his leaky tip.
you don’t want to be late—but who wants to deny satoru either?
“toru, we can’t—”
“i think we can. cause i think you belong right here,” he says lowly, kissing your lips sweetly as his hands find your waist, “right here on my cock, sweetheart. can’t think of a better place.”
“but—”
“feel that?” he groans, guiding your hips to grind against him and drag your pussy along his hardened length. you can feel the wetness seep into both of your clothes—your slick and his pre cum separated from making a combined mess only by the fabric. you want it gone—but satoru keeps it right there. “‘s what you do to me. don’t wanna help?”
“w-we don’t have time,” you gasp as he rubs along your clit, biting your lip and grabbing his shoulders. he chuckles, pecking the corner of your mouth.
“sure we do,” he hums, “no one’s draggin’ you away, are they?”
you kiss him at that—too prideful to give him an answer and too desperate to feel him any way that you can possibly get him. he reciprocates fast, groaning as his lips mold against yours and press heatedly into you as much as he can. he tastes good—like expensive lip balm and lingering sweetness that never seems to go away.
you moan when he grinds up against you, rolling your own hips for more friction as he whimpers into your mouth. everything about satoru is sweet—the way he tastes, the way he sounds, the way he looks.
he’s flushed a pretty little pink along his cheeks, making those precious sounds that will you to stay just a bit longer, to give him what he wants and take what you want too. your hips never cease—in fact, they’re more desperate now, rubbing against him as your clit aches with more and more need.
“toru,” you gasp, “more,” you plead, trying to go faster. it feels like he’s trying to slow you down, though—it only makes you more frantic to build up that steady ache in your clit as your walls flutter around nothing.
“f-fuck, baby,” he rasps, “jus’ h-hold on a second—”
“n-no—don’t stop toru,” you whine, not ready to stop the feeling that rubbing against his thick cock gives you—but then you feel him twitch in that familiar way, in that way you’ve learned can mean only one thing as you become well acquainted with his body.
he whines, head falling back against the bed frame as his hips jerk up, chest rising and falling as he breathes rapidly through a parted mouth. his eyes flutter shut and he moans those pretty little moans you never get tired of hearing as you feel his boxers become more damp by the second. maybe a little sticky too.
“baby, baby—fuck, ‘m cumming,” he gasps, grabbing your hand and squeezing to ground himself as he spills his load into his boxers under you.
he’s sensitive—always has been. cums hard enough that his whole body shakes and you can feel every tremble. you smile softly, leaning in to kiss the corner of his mouth, trailing to his cheeks and jaw and the tip of his nose as he brokenly cries your name.
“good,” you giggle, “cum for me, toru.”
“for you,” he nods, moaning as he feels your pussy press harder against his tip, “only for you—sh-shit.”
“guess you’re being good today,” you murmur, “look so pretty when you cum, toru. y’know that? my pretty boy. that feel good?”
“so good,” he pants, nodding as his cock twitches under you as you rub against him to guide him through his peak, sticky ropes of cum staining his boxers and making a mess. “f-feels so good—fuck.”
“couldn’t wait, huh?” you chuckle, cupping the back of his head and letting him go slack as you watch the way his face twists in pleasure with the last few drops of cum. it’s sticky under you, hot and wet and messy enough that it’ll be a pain to clean. but he looks so beautiful like this, head fallen against your hand and lips caught between his teeth as he shakily breathes in and out.
“i tried warning you,” he mumbles, catching his breath, “didn’t listen.”
“i didn’t want to,” you grin, kissing his forehead sweetly, “wish you could see yourself—it’s so pretty.”
“not as pretty as you,” he hums, eyes slipping shut for a moment as he sighs at the way you trace his features with your other hand. your touch is delicate—too delicate against the strongest, you suppose. he doesn’t need to be treated delicately, but you think he deserves it anyway.
“now, i hate to ruin the moment,” you start, making him crack an eye open unhappily with a scowl.
“don’t,” he grumbles.
you do anyway. “we’re really gonna be late if we don’t—”
“we’re late either way,” he shrugs, flipping you over before pressing a soft kiss to your lips and crawling down until he’s between your legs. you’re so wet, he notes happily, the damp spot on your pants glazing his eyes with hunger, “can’t just leave my baby like this all day, can i?”
Tumblr media
girl go get me the scotch tape. that man’s a drama queen he’s fine ✋🏽
also you all better have sang dua lipa after reading that title
7K notes · View notes
jamminvroomvroom · 6 months
Text
everything.
ln x fem!reader
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
in which you’re his best friend until you’re something more
hi! here you go lmao. probs the fluffiest thing i’ve ever written and i am obsessed with the concept! thank you for being here and baring with me - i loved writing this one and i’d love to hear what you think! huge shoutout to my girlies @mcmuppet and @lavenderlando ily both!
songs that set the mood: pink and white by frank ocean, daylight by harry styles, angel by finneas, enchanted by taylor swift, hate to be lame by lizzy mcalpine
warnings: 18+!! minors dni!! smut, language, friends to lovers brain rot, slight corruption kink, readers first time, qatar angst
6.4k words
“do you wanna talk about it?” you whispered softly, your hand resting on lando’s sagged shoulder.
your eyes were fixed on the third place plaque on his table in front of you, his very much fixed on the floor.
“no.” his reply was short and sweet, his tone conveying exactly how deflated he was.
you’d only flown in to qatar this morning, the october sun hitting you hard as you walked into the paddock, drastically different to the london climate you’d grown accustomed to. lando had all but begged you to come, your evening before spent on the phone, and you knew that he needed a friend, otherwise he never would have asked you to fly halfway around the world.
friends. that’s what you were.
you’d hugged him tight and told him that the weekend had to get better, and then his teammate put it on pole and got his first win. so, yeah, maybe it wasn’t going to get better and not even the podium could cheer him up.
his radio messages had hurt your heart, your chest aching as he self deprecated in the cockpit. he owned his mistakes, sure, but he’d taken it a step too far and you knew you had a job to do. you’d do anything, quite literally anything, to cheer him up.
you’d always found a way to be there for eachother, your friendship spanning five long years after you’d knocked a coffee over a guy you quickly recognised as the new mclaren driver. both nineteen and awkward as hell, you’d um-ed and er-ed and danced around one another in the busy pret in central london, chucking tissues at him, attempting to mop up the frothy mess all over his white sweatshirt.
eventually you’d just burst into laughter, lando immediately following suit. your cheeks were hurting from smiling at the curly haired stranger, intrigued by the very way his faced moved when he laughed, and he’d looked at you like you hung the stars in the sky, not like someone that had just destroyed a brand new hoodie.
and just like that, a connection was born.
you’d gotten used to having a friend for only half the year, but he never let you feel the distance. paddock passes often fell through your letter box and you could usually be located in the background of his streams when he was home long enough to do them, the amount of times you’d been wrongfully accused of being his girlfriend a list as long as your arm. even in those moments of awkwardness, friendship prevailed and you both managed to crack up together about the conspiracy that you were more than friends.
and what an intriguing conspiracy it was.
“we should get you back to the hotel, you need to get some rest.” you told him, standing from the sofa and offering him your hand.
lando grabbed it, squeezing, his own special way of telling you he was grateful for your presence, and let you pull him up. as he tried to walk towards the door, you stopped him, hands on his shoulders. you wanted to shake him, tell him how fucking great he was. you didn’t think he’d appreciate that after an intense session in the car.
“hey, look at me. you got this, okay?” you smiled reassuringly, managing to get the smallest crack back from him, his lips upturning ever so slightly. something in his eyes told you that you’d succeeded, a small glimmer of an emotion that you didn’t know how to unpack.
friends.
that’s what you were.
-
you tried to ignore how touchy lando was being. you figured he just needed some comfort, physical touch not out of bounds in your friendship, but a new level had been reached.
on the entire walk through the paddock to his car, his hand sat comfortably on the small of your back, despite the endless amount of cameras pointed at you. his hand skimmed your thigh in the car, accidentally, you told yourself, and you had to avert your eyes when his hand graced your headrest as he reversed out of the parking space. knowing that he needed you in qatar so desperately that he’d flown you out was one thing, the way he was treating you once you got there was something else.
he’d opened your door when you pulled up at the hotel valet, helping you out of the car, his hand tucked in yours for a second longer than necessary. once again, his hand seemed to be glued to your lower back the whole way to the elevator.
the ding of the lift had you both shuffling out onto your floor, trailing towards your rooms in a heavy silence, something more left unsaid in the air.
you reached your door first, coming to a stop and shuffling around in your bag for your keycard.
“um, i need to be at the track early tomorrow. breakfast?” lando asked.
you turned to look at him, nodding your head profusely.
“of course, just drop me a message and i’ll come down and meet you.” you affirmed, your fingers finally grasping the piece of plastic that had, of course, fallen to the very bottom of your tardis of a tote bag.
you expected him to leave, but he lingered, as if there was something else on his mind.
“you okay?” you raised an eyebrow, unlocking your door. lando seemed to snap out of it then, awkwardly running a hand through his curls that had taken a brutal hit from the humidity. you liked the look on him, nonetheless.
“yeah, i- yeah, i think i just need some sleep.”
“okay, well, goodnight. let me know if you need anything.” you disappeared through the door then, the tension getting the better of you. you slumped against the shut door, wondering what he so clearly wanted to say.
-
the clock read 1:32am on your bedside.
a faint tapping had woken you up, and you groggily scanned the room, trying to find the source of the noise. you deduced that it was coming from your door, letting out a groan as you threw the cosy comforter off and trudged towards the disturbance.
you cracked it open, peeking through the gap and coming face to face with your best friend.
“lando?” you croaked, opening the door further.
“i’m sorry, can’t sleep. can i come in? it’s okay if not, i just didn’t know what to do.” he sounded so shy, something you didn’t recognise in the man stood before you, and you quickly swung the door open, ushering him inside.
“come, sit.” you waved for him to follow you across the room to the foot of your bed. he sat down beside you, the mattress dipping.
you patted your lap and he instantly knew what to do, laying down with his head in your lap. it’s something he did quite frequently when you were sprawled on his sofa at home, watching a shitty movie that neither of you were really paying attention to. you’d often be looking at him, praying he didn’t notice, and he’d be playing with your fingers, tracing the palm of your hand.
you couldn’t help yourself, running your hand through his curls. you didn’t mean to, stomach instantly twisting with embarrassment, but it was quickly twisting with something else. his eyes fluttered shut, a low groan falling from the back of his throat. it made your thighs clench, and he must have noticed, the tiniest smirk on his face.
“you okay?” lando asked, his eyes still shut, a look of relaxation finally on his face.
you coughed awkwardly.
“yeah, sorry. are you comfy?” you said teasingly, trying to cut the growing tension in the room.
“i am now, could fall asleep here.”
“you can, you know.” you whispered. his eyes flew open. your heart was hammering in your chest. this was new territory and you were worried you’d fucked up. sleepovers were also a norm, but one of you usually retired to a guest room, not the other side of eachothers beds.
“you want me to stay?” his voice rose in surprise.
“well, i mean, you can if you want, like, there’s space and-“ you rambled.
“do you want me to stay?” he repeated.
“is it gonna help?” you questioned cautiously.
“yes.” the confidence in which he replied did something to you.
“then stay.”
you crawled up the mattress, falling back into the place you’d so comfortably occupied just minutes before. you laid so still, watching with quiet curiosity as he slipped his hoodie off. his shirt came with it ever so slightly, riding up over his back, and you had to pry your eyes away, the ache between your thighs still ever present.
what on earth were you doing, allowing your best friend to crawl into bed with you? emotions were running so high, but it felt like a switch had been flipped ever since you hit the tarmac in qatar. every look, every touch was fuelled by something different to what it had been before and you weren’t sure if it was a good thing or not.
lando turned towards you, making his way back over to the bed. he looked apprehensive, as if he was thinking the same thoughts as you, wondering if there was any logic in what was about to happen. he seemed to come to the conclusion that this was, in fact, happening, crawling into bed beside you.
“is this okay?” lando breathed into the darkness of the room, his hand brushing yours. you were both as still as planks, mere centimetres separating you, the only light coming from the lamp beside the bed.
“yeah,” you took a deep breath, preparing for the words that were about to come tumbling out. “i’ve just never done this before.” you spoke quickly, sucking in another breath as you finished.
“you’ve never…”
“i’ve never shared a bed… like this.”
“like what?”
“with a… a guy?” your anxiety riddled words came out more like a question than an answer.
“oh. oh.” it seemed to dawn on lando then. “so, you’ve never… oh. i mean i can go if you’re uncomfortable.”
“lando, no, i just wanted you to know. i’m always comfortable with you.” you said, quietly baring your soul to him.
you weren’t sure why you’d basically told him you were a virgin. it held no relevance, he was just here to sleep, for some friendly comfort. he was not here for any other reason. and yet here you were, spilling the beans, all over the bed you found yourself sharing.
“i didn’t come here to, you know. i just needed you.”
you tried to ignore the pang in your chest and the annoying, minuscule butterfly springing to life in your belly.
“god, yeah i know! i didn’t think that you wanted to, well i mean not with me because why would you want me like that anyway, i get why you’re here, lando.” you rambled into the empty air. you heard yourself, groaning in embarrassment and dragging the cover over your face. lando laughed, pulling it back so he could see you again.
he was leaning over you, perched on his side, resting on his elbow.
“trust me, i’m more than happy with any part of yourself that you wanna give me.”
“don’t tease me, lando.” you scoffed. he was joking, right? right?
“i’m not! i promise, this is the one place i want to be.”
“why? why with me? i mean you could’ve called max. all he does is stream when you’re not home, think he misses you.” you were half joking, half deadly serious.
“come on, it’s you. it’s just… its been so hard this year, being away from you so much more. and then you came all the way here…” lando trailed off, averting eye contact.
you turned on your side to face him, placing your hand over his affectionately.
“you needed me.”
“exactly. i needed you. you.”
he gave you a look, one that you didn’t recognise, but you understood what it meant. it said more than anything had done since this confusingly beautiful interaction began. you got it, then, why you were here.
“lando-“
“i know that i shouldn’t tell you this and i can’t just spring this on you in the middle of the night, but i-“
“lando!”
“what?”
“kiss me.”
and god, he kissed you. the air was sucked out of your lungs, dragged out of you by the way he put his hands on your body, so urgent.
you sunk back into the mattress, his body over yours, a hand cupping your cheek while the other rested on your waist, stroking the skin there, exposed from your ridden up top. your hands were in his curls, and you revelled in the way that you could shamelessly touch them now.
he paused for a second, nose brushing yours, breathless and grinning down at you, a knowing smile that was so beautiful that it rendered you speechless.
“you have no idea how long i’ve waited for this.” lando breathed, scanning your face as if he was trying to take it all in. you, panting beneath him, coy smile, cheeks flushed. you’d never looked so gorgeous to him.
you leaned in to kiss him again, slower this time, relishing in the moment. you were lost in him, thinking back to the very first time you’d locked eyes and how you never thought it would come to this. this, the way he was holding you, was the best surprise.
lando pulled away, peppering your flushed cheeks with kisses, a dazed giggle passing your swollen lips.
he flopped onto his side, grinning at the ceiling mindlessly. you hadn’t seen him smile that big all weekend.
“are you tired?” you whispered, lips brushing his cheek, his light stubble rough against you. you wondered how it would feel elsewhere, scratching over your bare skin.
“no.”
“then why did you stop?” you asked, the words falling off your tongue slowly, sinking all over him like honey. you felt the way he tensed up, the suggestion that laced the seemingly innocent question making you tingle.
“i didn’t come here for that.” he reiterated.
“and i didn’t let you in for that. but here we are.” you weren’t ashamed of what you were asking, the moment was right, the one, and you knew it.
“it’s too soon.” lando was apprehensive. he was always overly protective of you, previously as his friend, but this, god, this was an entirely different ball park and he was proceeding with caution, against every natural instinct in his body screaming at him.
“says who?”
“it’s your first. it needs to be special.”
“everything about this is better than i could have ever imagined.”
“are you sure you want it to be me?” there it was again, those unrecognisable nerves that made everything inside of you flutter.
“lando, there is no one else i could ever want to do this with more than i want to do it with you. i want it to be you.”
“but… now? are you sure? i don’t want you to regret this.”
“the only thing i regret is that this didn’t happen sooner.”
“one last time. i just need to hear it one last time.”
“i want you, lando.”
and with that, the air changed, charged with a different kind of tension. lando pulled you on top of him, hands firm on your body, the action itself gentle. you steadied yourself, hands on his shoulders, his resting on your waist.
“can i take this off?” he tugged at the hem of your shirt. you nodded profusely. “words, sweetheart. i need you to use your words.” lando cupped your jaw as he said it, squeezing ever so slightly, enough to turn you into putty in his hands.
“please. yes.” you said shakily.
he smiled softly, slowly peeling the material off of your body, up over your head and tossed carelessly onto the floor. he kept his eyes on yours, despite the fact you were now left bare, aside from the white cotton panties that separated you both. he pawed at your sides, kneading gently at your soft hips.
“we’re gonna start slow, okay? gonna take my time with you.” he muttered, eyes on yours before they trailed slowly down, across your face, neck, collarbone, further and further until he was taking all of you in. he began to stroke the underside of your breast with his thumb, watching the way your body tensed under his feather-like touch.
“okay.” you choked out, head tipping back as he placed a kiss to the base of your throat.
his kiss trailed further down your body, peppered in the valley of your breasts, and then you stopped breathing, the air caught in your throat because he was looking at you, really, truly looking at you, as his tongue found your nipple. you couldn’t take your eyes off of him, not when he was looking at you like that, not when he was making you feel this good already.
lando pulled away, just for a second, just so that he could shift you from his lap onto his thigh. he was still fully clothed beneath you, totally in control, and you craved him in a way you didn’t know was humanly possible, so much so that you didn’t need the encouragement he was giving you to start rolling your hips, pussy grinding down on his covered thighs, the friction of your underwear driving you insane.
“oh, baby. you want me so badly, don’t you? should’ve asked me sooner. m’gonna make you feel so good.” his hands were on your hips, guiding you backwards and forwards on him.
“it feels so- oh, god.” you whimpered, fingers tangling in his curls, back arching further into him as your thighs clenched around his. he licked over your collarbone oh so slowly, a shiver running down your taut spine.
and then he was kissing you again, tongue slow over yours, his fingertips surely leaving marks where he was controlling your pace. the kiss was filthy, untameable, and you found yourself dragging against him slower, harder.
“i need you.” you panted, forehead falling on his shoulder as you pulled away from his lips, goosebumps pricking your sweat slicked skin. you were so close to an orgasm, desperate to feel him everywhere.
“i want you to come for me like this first, okay? can you do that for me, baby?” he cooed, bouncing his leg ever so slightly. “look at me.” and you did, somehow mustering the strength to pull yourself back up and find his darkened eyes.
you were a mess of curses when you let go, your body convulsing, collapsing into him as you came. you were throbbing on his thigh, one glance down at where you were grinding against him displaying your slick. his arms went around your body, flipping you onto your back so that you were resting against the mattress.
“you did so well, baby.” lando crooned, resting over you on his forearms. you stared up at him in awe, blinking away the haze. “do you want more?”
“i want everything.” you breathed, pulling him against you. you smoothed your hands over his shirt until you reached the hem, dragging it up over his back. he helped you take it off, and then it was lost to the room. you grabbed at his shoulder blades, smooth, muscular planes of bronzed skin so warm under your touch. you felt insatiable, like nothing was enough, totally intoxicated by him and everything he was managing to make you feel.
lando’s hand slid down your body, searching for the band of your underwear. when he reached his destination, he toyed with the lacy edges, letting them snap against the pudge of your belly, teasing you. you bucked your hips, frustrated, and he used the opportunity to cup your pussy, feeling where you’d soaked through the cotton. the groan he let out was carnal, animalistic, almost needy. he could feel all of you, how you ached and dripped, how you needed the everything that you’d requested.
“you’re so fucking good for me, god.” lando almost slurred his words, voice lower than you’d ever heard it. you keened at the sound, pushing your hips further into him.
lando didn’t give you much time to dwell on it, mouth latching onto your underwear where it met the crease of your thigh. he was so close, so tantalising close to where you were aching for him and you were just about levitating off the bed when his teeth grazed your inner thigh. you couldn’t see him looking at you, losing it, inhibitions out the window. your eyes were already squeezed shut when he began mouthing over your cloth-covered pussy, spit further ruining the sodden material.
“take them off.” you cried out, tugging hard at his curls that you hadn’t even realised you were clutching for dear life. and lando was a good listener, because he complied immediately, tearing the lace down your legs like a starved man.
his tongue was on you then, everywhere all at once, running through your folds and over your clit. you didn’t know if you were dead or alive, a different kind of pleasure than anything you’d ever experienced coursing hot through your veins. lando switched between long, slow licks, his tongue flat against you, and rapid kitten licks, burying his face in your cunt.
everything was moving in slow motion, your hands grasping frantically at anything you could reach; his curls, the sheets, his shoulders. you could barely make out what he was saying, his words muffled, lost to the soft flesh between your legs. it seemed to echo, every lick, stroke, word. you snapped out of it, finally, when he pulled away.
“more? you want my fingers, baby? gonna get you nice and ready for me.” you just nodded, voice lost to the air of the room.
one arm locked around your thigh, pinning you still, and the other snaked up your leg until he reached the mess between your thighs. he took a moment to take it in, how wet you were, how fucked out you looked, knowing full well he must have looked the same, unhinged as he gave into your shared desire that he’d tried his best to keep hidden. he’d never felt more stupid in his life for holding back, as he took in the ethereal delight sprawled under his touch.
when lando slid the first finger in, your stomach twisted deliciously. he watched you carefully, searching for discomfort but all he could find was sheer bliss, written all over your face as clear as daylight. he worked the digit in and out, nice and slow, curling against your walls. he could feel how tight you were, clamping around just one finger and he thought his head was gonna explode. he added another finger, watching the way you took him in, twisting his fingers.
“are you gonna let go for me again, sweetheart?” lando punctuated his words by putting his mouth back on you, teeth grazing your clit as he sucked.
you were thrashing, a silent scream building from the fire in your belly. you could just about make out the way he was spurring you on, his mouth running as you spilled over the edge, covering his fingers. you saw white, maybe god, ears ringing, and when you finally mustered the energy to look at him, you could have come for a third time. lando looked feral, lips red and coated in everything you had to offer him. his eyes were glazed over, a hazy grey that sent a jolt through your body, the aftershocks of the orgasm setting in.
“christ.” was all you could sigh out. a lazy smile painted your face, your eyes blown out, everything a little blurry. everything except him.
you could feel him scaling up your body, crawling over you until he was level with your face. he placed a kiss to your throat, your jaw and finally your lips; when he pulled away all that was left was shared giddy smile, both of you suddenly shy. you couldn’t stop the roaming of your hands, exploring all the parts of him that you could reach. when you found the waist band of his joggers, your hand grazing his abs as you did, he sucked all of the air out of the room, a sharp inhalation making him tense up.
“you still want all of me?” he breathed, his shaky breath fanning your face. lando was obsessed with hearing you say it, obsessed with how you wanted him as much as he needed you.
“all of you. lando, this is… you’re perfect.” you admitted, lips brushing his. your hands pushed the material down his hips, nails raking over him as you did. he couldn’t seem to wait any longer, kicking them off the rest of the way, his boxers quickly following suit.
you couldn’t help but stare, all of him bare against all of you. your nipples brushed his chest, his hands holding you close, your hands threaded through his curls. it was like you were sussing each other out, eyes watching lips and hands getting lost. you stayed like that for a moment, pressed together, closer and closer, until he was slotted between your legs like he was coming home. lando searched your face one last time, hunting for a smidge of discomfort.
“are you ready for me?” he whispered.
“yes.”
the initial stretch burned, but he slid into you smoothly, his cock slipping through your folds with ease. he felt you clamp down on him, his head thrown back as far as it could go, thick neck exposed to you. you bit down on his shoulder, where it met the base of his throat, trying to mask the gasp of pleasure that sent your eyes rolling back in your head. he grunted at the sensation, enjoying the sting.
“oh, fuck.” he was shuddering, trying to keep himself in check.
“don’t, oh god,” you started, meeting the roll of his hips. “don’t hold back.”
“we gotta go easy.”
“i don’t want easy.” you tightened around him then, and he saw stars.
“you’re so fucking good.” lando groaned, an edge of excitement in his voice, and then he unleashed everything that he’d held back. how much he wanted you, and a bittersweet weekend of frustration versus success came crashing down and he couldn’t do anything except give himself to you exactly how you wanted.
lando was a delicious weight on top of you, the drag of his hips slow, meeting yours hard. the pressure made you lightheaded, his body moving against yours like the thick drip of honey, smooth and sweet. you couldn’t make sense of it, of how fucking good he felt, grinding deeper and deeper into you like he’d found buried treasure. the overstimulation had your third orgasm building nice and quick, waves of pleasure making you dizzy.
“you like it like this? like when i fuck you nice and hard?” yes you did. “don’t think i can go without this now, you know that? such a good fucking girl.” you couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, just let his words wash over you. “so beautiful, taking me so well.”
you couldn’t process that this was your best friend lando. this was a different person, it had to be. yet, somehow, it made sense that the man you knew, the one who spoke his mind, mischievous and troublesome, would be like this, a god above you as he fucked deeper into you with every thrust. he was filthy and gentle, brutal and sweet. it didn’t make sense, but it also just did.
“are you gonna come for me? one more time, baby. need to feel that perfect fucking pussy.” well, his wish was your command, because then you were gushing. the one thing you could feel was him, none of your other senses worked, you couldn’t see past the tears that fell, couldn’t get any words past your lips. maybe you screamed, you weren’t exactly sure.
lando was kissing you everywhere. each hip bone was met with his lips, your stomach, over your ribs, breasts, clavicle, neck. your face was covered in kisses next, your cheeks, forehead, a dainty peck to your nose.
“can you look at me?”
your eyes cracked open slowly, the exhaustion hitting as you came back to reality.
“was that okay?” there he was again, this shy version of lando that you couldn’t get used to.
“okay? lando that was…” you shook your head in awe. “that meant everything to me.”
he smiled then, that gorgeous, gorgeous smile, the one with the crinkles by his eyes and his teeth on full display. you melted.
“me too. you’re fucking beautiful. so, so fucking beautiful. should’ve told you sooner.” he murmured.
his words made you think, way too hard for your current state. what happened next? lando had said some things, some pretty big things that you didn’t know how to comprehend. it was crazy, how scared you were to bring it back up to him, considering he’d just been inside of you.
“sooner?” you whispered, hardly audible. lando was midway through tucking you both into bed, pulling your flushed, naked body into his own under the duvet.
“yes. a lot sooner.” he replied, not a trace of doubt in his voice.
‘how much sooner?’ you thought to yourself, unable to stay awake any longer to agonise over it, your dreams haunted by the way he touched you so well. it was magnificent to fall asleep in his arms, and you couldn’t help yourself from wondering when it would happen again.
-
you woke up tangled with him, fingers stroking your cheek, smoothing your hair out of your eyes.
lando was always so warm, but now his tanned skin radiated sunshine, a beacon of light in your bed. you smiled, eyes still shut, shielding yourself from the streaks of light casting over the room from the crack in the curtains.
“what time is it?” you croaked, bringing a hand to your eyes to rub away the sleep.
“gone eleven. i need to go, baby.”
baby.
you hadn’t gotten a chance to take my notice of the things he’d called you last night, too caught up in the way he played with your body. now that you heard it, in the calm after the storm, it made you swoon.
“already?” you tried to hide your disappointment, not quite ready to detangle yourself from him.
“need to get to the track. i think i’m already late. i just wanted to be here when you woke up.” lando sounded so soft, not as groggy as you, and you wondered how long he’d been awake, watching the soft rise and fall of your chest.
“thank you.” you knew that you’d have spiralled waking up alone, and you were immensely grateful that he’d stayed.
lando began to get up, wincing at your whine of protest.
“i’m sorry. i’ll have someone pick you up later, okay? i’ll see you soon, i promise.”
you knew he had to work hard today, knew how much analysis he needed to do before the race. he was starting further back than anyone would have liked, and he had something to prove as well, oscar starting too close to the front for lando’s liking. there were places to make up and hard work to be done to get back to the front.
“don’t apologise. i hope it goes smoothly today.” you smiled at him, watching him collect his long forgotten clothes. you were entranced by the way his body moved, the lines and shapes that tensed and rippled as he dressed himself.
“i’ll message you.” he promised, creeping back over to the bed. you weren’t sure what to expect, but the soft kiss to your lips, almost apprehensive on his part, could have killed you off, your heart pounding.
your grinned like a fool when the door shut behind him.
-
the shower was burning hot, loosening up your muscles. you cleaned yourself slowly, examining your body, the same one that you’d given to lando. he’d taken you apart, piece by piece, and put you back together, the traces of him that he’d left behind delectably apparent.
you followed the trail of marks he’d left, starting with the love bite below your right breast that you couldn’t even remember him leaving, making your way to the litter of fingerprints that were tattooed into your hips. your fingertips ghosted over your swollen lips, the kiss that he’d left at the junction between your neck and your shoulder, reminiscing the evening. you seemed to ache everywhere, the dull pain setting into your bones so nicely.
you prayed it would happen again. you felt like it would, everything between you had changed now, changed from any possible return to the norm. you wanted it to change, you couldn’t fathom the idea of staying friends when the lines had blurred like this, when he’d kissed you so deeply, touched you so intimately.
the shower was much needed, refreshing your body that was now tainted by him in the best way. you tried to keep a clear head while you got yourself ready, taking your time to make yourself presentable to the paddock. the time of your departure was looming, the pink and white sunset outside your window indicating that the race was only a few hours away. the air had cooled slightly, and you knew you needed to make your way to the lobby.
your phone dinged in your hand as you were packing your essentials into your bag. you glanced down at the device, unruly smile gracing your face.
see you soon, the text read, an orange love heart punctuating the short but sweet text. it was safe to say that the butterflies in your belly were well and truly alive.
-
the screen beeped as you scanned your paddock pass, and you slipped through the gate, making your way into the paddock. it was beautiful in qatar, they’d outdone themselves with this structure, the glass ceilings and jungle of greenery an expression of wealth and elegance.
you made a beeline for the mclaren garage, greeting lando’s pr officer who smiled warmly at you. you recognised oscar smirking as you appeared in the garage, and as you got closer you realised why.
“nice to see you. looking for lando?” his monotonous voice held an amused twang.
“hey oscar, great job last night!” you said, waiting for the other shoe to drop. “yeah, is he around here somewhere?”
“yeah he’s just doing press i think. extra spring in his step today.” oscar gave you a knowing look, one that made you blush.
“what do you know?” you deadpanned, fighting back laughter.
“i know that this was a long time coming.” he smiled, and then he was gone, lost to the bustle of the garage.
you stood there, probably in the way, lost in thought about what oscar had just said. he was right, this was a long time coming.
you jumped a bit when a hand landed on your waist, relaxing instantly into lando’s body when he pressed himself against you, head on your shoulder.
“i’m so glad you’re here.” he whispered, pressing a secret kiss under your ear, and then he, too, was gone, before you could even react.
your nerves were shot, ushered to the back of the garage where you found a headset. you chewed your nails, anxious about it all. the race, the changes that you were surely coming. you wanted it, wanted everything from him that he’d give you, willing to commit to all of it, to him. the distance, borrowed time, chaos of his world. last night had changed everything and you couldn’t have asked for more.
eventually the lights went out and the fight was underway. you found your hands clasped together, sweating in the dry heat and the anxiety. you clapped every time he made an overtake, storming through the field. when he made it into p3, picking the pace up on oscar, the nerves resurged and you prayed for a clean end to this race.
lando’s radio messages flooded your ears, and your leg bounced uncontrollably, your shoe slapping against the floor.
“be sensible, lando.” you muttered under your breath, resting your chin on your tightly clasped hands. he would be on the podium, but you knew it wasn’t enough for him, it never was. would you be enough for him?
eventually he agreed to hold position, thank fuck, and you could breathe again. he’d driven a beautiful recovery drive, bringing the car onto the podium, and you rushed out with the team to congratulate him. you lingered at the back of the pack behind the metal barriers, watching in quiet admiration as he jumped out of the car. he slapped oscar on the back, hugging his younger teammate before bounding towards the team. his head was darting around as if he was looking for something, but you couldn’t make it out with his helmet still on. and then the helmet came off and it became clear.
he was looking for you.
lando pulled away from a hug with a mechanic, leaning over the barrier right in front of you. you gravitated towards him, somehow moving through the swarm of team members until you were pressed against the metal too. he was beaming, eyes brighter than they had been all working weekend, and then his hands were on you. the hug he pulled you into was tight and you clung to one another for a moment, unbothered by his damp race suit, or the tickle of his sweat slicked curls.
the kiss he pressed to your cheek was far less secret than the one in the garage, so was the one he pressed to your forehead, but the one he pressed to your lips, as quick as it may have been, was the one that really took the cake. you were blushing when he pulled back, a mischievous grin on his face. you shook your head in disbelief at his boldness, unable to tame your bewildered smile.
“what are you doing for dinner, baby?” he called out to you as he walked away. the podium high had clearly set in.
nothing, you mouthed back, not quite confident enough to shout across parc ferme.
“good, we’re going on a date.” lando winked and then he was gone, pulled into the chaos of post race duties.
tears pricked your eyes when he stood on the podium, a much happier man than the one you found when you’d arrived. you couldn’t put it into words, how one night had changed everything, giving you everything you didn’t realise you wanted.
then again, lando was always good at beating expectations.
-
hehe the end
-
taglist
had to remove some tags that aren’t working! let me know if you wanna be added or removed xo
@boysthatgovroomvroom @thegirlinthefandoms @welld0nebaku @mcmuppet @japanesekel @vinvantae @ggaslyp1 @dr3lover @smiithys  @turningxstrange @rachstash @infinitebells @multilovebot @fizzpopsnap101 @gaily19 @icecoldtires @mysticalnightenthusiast @thatchickwiththecamera @oyesmendes @disneydaydreameralways @yeolsbubbles @canyouseethesainz @ferrarifwendvale @fcbformulaeri @tony-stank3 @maih23 @nokiaholland @soleilgrec @carolineworld @anthonykatebridgerton @allywthsr @iamasimpingh0e @ophcelia @lovelynikol16 @coffeehurricanes @jennx03 @organasith @micks-afterglow @blueflorals @juno-1610 @lqvesoph @wilmasvensson @sidcrosbyspuck @better-dead-than-smeg @buendiabebeta @h0e-xoxo @mattxxamryli @pjofics @kovalcin @wintergilmore3
6K notes · View notes
toruslvt · 1 month
Note
regarding bff gojo, (sorry if this is insane) but can i request a bff gojo x fem!reader x random girl where they have a 3sum but gojo eventually just ends up paying attention to reader bcs he’s IN LOVE W HER ??!
⋆ mdni. bff gojo satoru. basically all things that happen in a threesome: Satoru, you and the girl make out w eachother, fingering, creampie ( to reader ). AAA NOT INSANE AT ALL I GOT BUTTERFLIES READING YOUR ASK 🫶.
 ⋆ tried this w a different writing style aaa idk how to feel. anyways... let me know what u think.
Tumblr media
sometimes you wondered what Satoru’s hidden skill was, to make you fall so easily into his schemes. was the puppy eyes he gave you, adding how he wanted to spend more time with his adorable best friend? following the logic that Satoru even texted you from the toilet, separation anxiety perhaps. he was blunt and direct, that’s a fact, but you did not expect for your him to suggest a threesome all of a sudden, sure, you had sex once but you couldn’t quite wrap your head around the fact that Satoru was already planning a second time.
the girl sitting in his bed is quite pretty, and oddly similar to you, with the same hair, skin tone and body shape, it was kind of scary at first, but you brushed it off considering it was a mere coincidence. yet Satoru looks utterly excited, almost bouncing off the walls as his eyes trail from you to her, and again until someone speaks.
“come here” he gruffs, your best friend’s voice is already husky and deep with desire, tapping his thighs in a silent invitation for you to join as where his hands caress the other girl’s sides, he’s cupping her breasts but his eyes remain on you, “you’re gorgeous” it’s a whispered word that Satoru speaks with his gaze still locked in yours, swiftly shifting to her eyes as to make her feel as if the compliment was for the both of you, Satoru knows it wasn’t.
and he tries, of course he tries to give you the same eagerness, but you look so fucking sexy perched on his lap, helping him get the other girl’s shirt off and he wishes it was your hands on him instead.
“Satoru” you breathe out his name, —a slight warning for him not to let the girl out after he spent the last minutes making out with you—, and he looks at you like you’re water in a desert, lips red and puffy from the intense kissing. with a brief nod he turns to her, pressing kisses on her chest and up her throat, licking on the skin before hesitantly kissing her lips, from your position on your sides, you could see Satoru’s eyes open, slightly turning sideways to look at you again.
you chuckle softly, finding his behavior slightly adorable, like a puppy looking for approval. carefully you approach him, deciding to press kisses on his neck at the same time Satoru groans and the girl whines, his eyes fluttering close at the intoxicating sensation of your lips, making him messily stain the front of his boxers with precum.
a couple of minutes pass until you’re all naked, Satoru having placed you next to her as you gently kiss, and in any other situation, he could have found the sight incredibly hot, but he can’t ignore the pang of jealousy in his chest. why aren’t you kissing him?
“you taste so good” the girl smirks looking at you, and Satoru’s brow twitches, she licks her lips seductively, almost fully ignoring the man’s presence currently kneeling between your bodies.
“you too” you speak with your face burning, and your best friend can’t take it anymore, leaning down to kiss you himself, almost fucking your mouth with his tongue; from behind the messy sound of your lips clashing you hear a whimper, looking from the corner of your eyes how she touched herself at the sight, biting her lip for a fleeting second before Satoru is tilting your jaw roughly, forcing you to focus in him.
Satoru’s hand is quick to find her dripping cunt, plunging a finger that quickly turns into two to keep her busy, moaning as if it’s the best thing that has ever happened to her, all to make you spread your pretty thighs and allow the dripping head of his cock to press against your pussy, if he kept on just kissing you, he would have cum all over your belly.
“so good, baby” he groans, eyes darkened and dilated pupils looking down at you as his cock stretches you out, you could see the way his breath hitched in his throat with each inch engulfed in your warm cunt; it’s a mess of lewd noises, from the girl’s moaning to your whines and Satoru’s grunts as he fucked you both, occasionally she raises up, attempting to caress his naked body towering over yours, but your best friend only slides his fingers deeper and harder inside her pussy, making her whine and lean down on the bed again, giving him enough space to suck on your tongue and swallow your moans that are only meant for him.
you can’t help and feel dizzy at the way Satoru looks and fucks at you, grinding his hips down so perfectly you’re sobbing in pleasure, and, for a moment, you’re left speechless when he forces your knees up his shoulders, fucking you so deep you couldn’t help and cry out, digging your nails on his back. that’s all Satoru needs.
a whimper of protest is heard, you are trying to raise your head but he’s quicker, cleaning his hand off her slick in the sheets before using both thumbs to press down your forehead, keeping you pinned as his body engulfed you fully, forcing you in a mating press with his mouth tasting your screams and your pussy swallowing the whole girth of him down the base, messily creating a sound where his hips roughly smacked against your ass.
you wondered if he always fucked like that, but the stimulation on your clit rubbing on his pelvis, g-spot tortured by the fat tip of his cock and nipples continuously rubbing against his hard chest made you forget about the rest.
“fuck, sweetheart” Satoru lets out a broken moan, half surprised half as if he was in pain at the sight of your almost rolled back eyes, mouth hanging open in desperate cries at the same time your pussy fluttered wildly. “you’ll make me cum so hard, this pussy was made just for me” he groans, not stopping his thrusts even if you gasp and cream his cock, he’s almost drunk, his own eyes threatening to roll back at the flutter of your cunt, begging for his cum.
a few more thrusts and he’s cumming deep into your pussy, with a sharp groan that makes you shudder. “’Toru... where is...?” you attempt to ask, but Satoru couldn’t care less, leaning down to kiss you without replying, but instead humping your pussy slightly, testing the waters if you’re ready for another orgasm.
“dunno” he swallows, uninterested, licking down the path of your throat and jaw until his nibbling on your collarbone, “can I fuck you again?” he begs, and there are the puppy eyes Satoru always gives you when he wants something, and how can you refuse when your best friend is so cute.
1K notes · View notes
thepastdied · 11 months
Note
hi! i was wondering if i could have something with virgin!eddie cumming in his pants or too early and he’s whimpering and whining about it but reader lets him know that she finds it hot? thank you in advance if you do it! if not then thank you for letting me ask at least 😊
Yes, yes- and yes. Of fucking COURSE. This is actually one of the drafts I started!! I love this request 💕
18 + MDNI SMUT
virgin!eddie munson x cheerleader!reader
Word Count: ~1.7k
Tumblr media
You'd kissed before. Once. It was only several seconds, and he was so awkward and sweet that it made you fall harder for him. You thought that maybe he'd ask you out after that, but sadly, he's been acting all weird and shy around you since. He was still his goofy self, but whenever you stood too close, he would clam up and make up a dumb excuse as to why he had to go. 
"Welp- gotta go see my friend John." He'd blurt before clumsily throwing himself into the boys bathroom.
You'd been relentlessly flirting with him for the last week. Week and a half? You lost count. You began upping up the amp a little more each day until he got red in the face and it made you go nuts.
Eddie was at his locker, scratching his nose as he quizzically looked around his basically empty locker.
"I swear it was in here- Jesus fucking Christ!" His back hit the wall as he gripped his chest, eyes wild as he finally noticed you'd been standing just a foot behind him.
"Jeez, you're on edge." You snorted at him.
He swallowed and lightly shrugged before slamming his locker shut and spitting his hair from his lips.
"Don't you have somewhere to be, sweetheart?" His eyes left yours and landed on the obnoxiously loud group of jocks that were trotting down the hallway, all hyped up and ready for the game.
Yeah, in your pants.
"Miss you, Eddie.." You stepped forward once the hallway was cleared and gripped his vest, pulling him closer. A whimper bubbled in his throat.
"Y..you miss me?" Eddie blinked a few times, mouth slightly agape when you took your bottom lip in between your teeth and nodded.
You harshly pulled him from the locker and just a short way down the hall, stopping in front of the janitor's closet and ripping the door open.
"Holy shit you're strong- Oh my god, what are you doing?" He stumbled into the closet and held his hands up as you took your hair out of your ponytail sexily. "Okay- You look like you want to chew me up and spit me out-"
"Eddie." You snapped.
"What.." He breathed, licking his lips as he watched you do the same and letting his shoulders slump down.
"Shut up." You stalked toward him and smirked as he dumbly nodded, placing his hands on your hips as you wrapped yours around his neck and pulling him down.
Eddie's eyes warmly looked into yours, a blush spreading across his cheeks.
"You're really pret-" He mumbled but was cut off as his nose touched yours when you pushed yourself onto your toes.
Your fingers dug into the nape of his neck as you crashed your lips into his. It was harsh yet still sweet, your tongue sliding across his bottom lip before biting down. He made a noise that you'd never imagine he could make and pulled your hips tightly against his and, fuck, he was hard. You wanted to hear that noise again.
You pulled away from him, moving your head back slightly and tutting when he chased your lips. Your hands slid down his body, feeling his heart hammer when they moved over his chest and body shiver when they met his torso and pelvis. Your fingers brushed against his hard on through his tight jeans before palming him firmly. Eddie's hand shot out to grab onto a shelf, taking a few steps backward to lean against the wall. You stepped forward and pressed a kiss to his neck, sucking and nibbling there as he moaned and panted, snaking a hand up your side and toward your breasts. 
"You're so hard, Eddie. All I did was kiss you." You laughed and shook your head, placing messy kisses up his neck and along his jaw, his rough stubble scraping against your lips.
"You wanna touch me?" You raised your brows as you looked into his glazed eyes.
"Y-yeah.. right here.." He somehow managed to muster, eyes darting to your boobs that were covered by your cheer uniform. "-please."
"Since you're such a good boy and answered without hesitation, of course. But you need to take my top off." You smirked up at him, another challenge.
Eddie audibly gulped as he pursed his lips. His hands were sweaty and fingers nimble. He'd thought about you touching him so, so many times. Having you whimper as he groped all over your body, chanting his name as you fucked yourself on his cock and he gave you praises. But when it came to actually being close to you, his flight response kicked in. You made him so nervous he wanted to throw up, but this was his opportunity to give it to you the way he wanted, the way you deserved. Hard. Messy. Deep.
But there was one very, very big problem.
He was a virgin and had no idea where to start.
You were completely overpowering him and it wasn't going how he imagined, but he was absolutely loving it nonetheless.
He took a deep breath through his nose and balled the hem of your uniform in his hands before swiftly pulling it over your head, grabbing onto your bare waist and pulling you flush against him.
That tiny spark of confidence quickly faded, but he mentally applauded himself for his brave action and for pulling out a shocked reaction from you. 
"What.. what now?" He cleared his throat when it cracked and glued his eyes to the pale pink bra you wore, the lace embellishments looking so delicate against your soft skin.
"Wow, Munson. I knew you had it in you." You palmed him harder. "Touch me."
"Fuck.. thank you." He whispered, groping his hands on the underside of your breasts, rubbing his thumb over where your nipples were under the fabric and feeling them harden.
He watched as the swell of your breasts puffed up as he squeezed, sighing at the sight and leaning down to kiss at the stretch marks on the top of your breasts.
You removed your hand from his crotch and tangled your fingers in his hair, pulling him more into you and humming when he trailed his lips up to your collarbone, sucking the skin there and leaving a couple marks right where your skin is exposed when wearing your uniform. He grunted when you tugged and pulled away, slapping his hand on the back of your thigh just below your ass and lifting your leg up. You jumped and wrapped your legs around his waist. Eddie's nails bit harshly into your thighs as you pulled him tighter, his back up against the dusty and grimy wall of the janitor's closet.
"S-shit." He hissed when you set your pussy harder into his dick, grinding yourself against him and moaning as you threw your head back, your juices soaking through your panties and leaving a patch on his jeans. His grip got more harsh and he shut his eyes tightly when he looked down and noticed.
"Eddie! You're leaving marks-"
"Well l-let them see, then. Will… oh fuck… will s-show them you're taken." He splayed his hands over the crescents left behind from his nails.
He stepped toward the small table and set you down, roughly and feverntly grinding his hips into yours, whimpering as he watched where your bodies met.
"Want you inside me, Eddie."
"Want me to f-fill you up, huh? I can… I can do that-" He choked and stiffened, eyes wide.
"Fuck fuck fuck fuck wait stop-" He whimpered, panting and begging for you to stop your movements. 
A guttural moan erupted from his chest, his body falling forward onto yours as he bucked against you and muffled his moan against your breast. He made that noise from earlier and it almost made you cum, your legs slightly shaking. There was a moment of silence before he pushed himself off you, guilt and shame apparent on his face.
"God, I really ruined it, didn't I? I'm so sorry- I'll- I'll do better next time, I swear. If you don't wanna do it again, though, I totally get it, this is horrible. Shit, I'm such a loser. It's so pathetic-"
"Eddie."
"What."
"Shut up."
He pouted and hung his head down and looked at the large wet stain on his black jeans, huffing and shaking his head in disappointment. He continued to chastise himself and kicked at nonexistent dirt on the floor.
"Could have made you feel real good, y'know? And it's my first time doin' stuff. I didn't get to... fill you up.." He sighed and looked at you sadly as he whined.
You reached your hands out to him, pulling him to stand in between your open legs.
"That.. was so fucking hot." You grabbed his cheeks so he could look at you, his eyes lighting up in surprise "Like, it almost made me cum, Eddie." 
"Really..?" He gaped.
"Alriiiiiight, Tiiiiiiigerrrrrrrrs! The game will start in 8 minutes! Head down to the gymnasium!" Prinicple Higgin's voice boomed from the intercom and echoed throughout the hallways. 
Eddie gritted his teeth and quickly placed his hands on your knees and spread your legs, attaching his mouth to your clothed pussy and sloppily mouthing at it.
"Oh… oh my God." Your hands found his hair as you gasped loudly in surprise and pleasure. 
"Fuck, you taste good." He palmed himself and felt his dick slightly harden again.
"Last call! 5 minutes everyone!!"
Eddie clumsily unbluckled his belt and pressed his cum soaked boxers against your core.
"Five-" He thrust against you "fucking-" harder this time "minutes?!" Seconds later you comvulsed at the wet sensation, a high pitched moan following your fast pants.
"You.. you came?" He slowed his movements as he came to a stop.
You gave him a lazy nod in response, only having a minute to collect yourself before you had to run down the hall for cheer.
"Woah.. that was hot." He chuckled and grabbed a roll of paper towels, wiping up whatever he could and handing you your shirt before untucking his own to cover the stain on his pants.
"Come over tonight." You softly demanded as you pulled your shirt on and quickly put your hair back into a ponytail. You placed two hands on his chest and looked up at him with pleading eyes. "After Hellfire, of course." 
Eddie gave you a wide grin and nodded.
"Of course, baby." 
You bit your lip at the pet name, pulling him into a firm kiss before you peeked your head out from the closet, looking at the empty hallways. 
You both stepped out and looked at eachother.
"Ew, a freak, get away from me." You jokingly teased as you started trotting down the hall, blowing him a kiss.
"Ew, a cock hungry slut, get away from me." He flipped you off before catching your kiss and holding it to his chest, stumbling backward and grinning as you gave him one last wave and disapeared around the corner.
3K notes · View notes
bradshawsvinyl · 2 months
Text
Begin Again
Part two.
As a first grade teacher, you couldn’t help but fall for your sweet student and her very attractive Navy fighter pilot father.
based off an ask! (screenshot at the bottom.)
Tumblr media
You woke up on September 6th joyful and excited. It was your first day as a first grade teacher in San Diego. You had wanted to be an elementary school teacher for as long as you could remember and after six years of schooling, you were finally ready.
Your first day teaching went well. You and your students played games and got to know each other. By three thirty all of your students were picked up except one.
Tara Bradshaw was a little girl with brown curly hair and big brown eyes. No one had come to pick her up yet so you decided to stay behind with her for a while and try to get in contact with her parents.
“Hey Tara,” you said while kneeling down to her level in the pick up area. “Let’s go back inside okay? I’ll call your parents and remind them to come get you.”
“Okay.” Tara replied hesitantly while grabbing your hand. “Can you call my daddy?”
“Of course I can, sweetheart.” You replied “Let’s go.”
The walk back to your classroom was short. While Tara made herself comfortable at her desk, you picked up her file and phoned the number.
“Hello,” A deep voice answered after the third ring.
“Hi. I’m Tara’s first grade teacher at school and I was just calling to ask if there was someone available to pick her up? School ended at three o'clock and she’s still here with me.” You said politely.
“Shit,” The deep voice replied. “I’m so sorry. I’m at work right now. I completely forgot. I’ll be there in ten minutes.”
“No worries,” you replied kindly. “Bye.” You said quickly before hanging up.
Tumblr media
Bradley hung up his phone and quickly made his way to the school. He couldn’t believe he had forgotten to pick up Tara. He felt like the worst father in the world.
Tara’s mom left Bradley when Tara was only two years old and he hasn’t heard from her since. Being a single father was hard for him. He was the only one in charge of taking Tara to school, bringing her home, feeding her and more.
Bradley got to the school within ten minutes and quickly made his way inside. After visiting the main office, he found your classroom. He knocked on the door. “Thank you so much for staying with her. I can’t believe I forgot.” He said as Tara started running towards him.
“It happens,” you replied sweetly. “No worries I promise!”
Bradley knelt down to Tara and said, “I’m so sorry, sweetheart.”
Tara hugged him and said, “It’s ok daddy.”
You watched the heartwarming scene. Feeling a sense of fulfillment that you had seemingly helped a stressed out Bradley. As Bradley stood to leave with Tara, he glanced at you and couldn’t help but notice your warm eyes and polite smile.
“You know,” he said sheepishly, “Tara’s lucky to have such a caring and uh…cute teacher like you.”
You chuckled softly, feeling flustered. “Thank you Bradley. I’m just happy I got to spend some extra time with Tara today.”
“Yeah well thanks,” He replied “Tara say bye to your teacher.”
“Bye bye!” She said as Bradley gathered Tara’s belongings and smiled at you, leaving a bright blush and flutter in your stomach.
Tumblr media
“Jesus Christ Bradshaw,” Bradley said as he buckled Tara into her car seat. “Get it together.”
Bradley couldn’t believe he had been stupid enough to call you cute. You were his daughter's teacher and here he was hitting on you. He couldn’t believe what he had done.
As Tara napped on the short drive to their house. Bradley called his best friend, Phoenix.
“I’m so stupid,” he said into the phone as soon as she picked up.
“No hi Bradshaw?” She replied, the hint of a smile in her voice. “What did you do this time?”
“I picked Tara up from school late and then I called her teacher cute.” He said, sounding slightly frustrated with himself.
On the other side of the phone, Phoenix burst out laughing. “Oh my god Rooster.” She said, still laughing. “Well was she pretty.”
“Of course she was pretty, Nat. She might be the most beautiful woman I've seen in a long time” Bradley said as he recalled your sweet face. “Look, I just got home and I have to bring Tara inside. I’ll call you later.”
“If she really is that cute, don't worry about it, Rooster.” Phoenix said before hanging up.
To Bradley’s surprise, Tara was awake in the backseat. As they both went inside their home, Bradley couldn’t help but worry about how he was going to face you tomorrow. Embarrassed couldn't even describe how he felt.
Tumblr media
The next school day went by quickly. You again woke up early and made the drive to work. Your students seemed excited about the lessons today, and you felt proud that you were able to get them to like you. You were trying to distract yourself from the voice in your head that was seemingly screaming BRADLEY CALLED YOU HOT.
Bradley Bradshaw was attractive. You couldn’t deny that. He had loose, curly brown hair and big puppy dog eyes. But it was probably wildly inappropriate to have a crush on your student's father. For all you knew, Bradley was married.
But you hadn’t seen a ring. And for some reason, that excited you.
At dismissal today, Tara was the last student to get picked up. But at least Bradley wasn’t extremely late today.
When Tara caught sight of her dad, she began jumping up and down. Once her father was in earshot, she turned to you and proudly said, “My daddy thinks you’re pretty!”
Tumblr media
Here’s the ask!
Tumblr media
I’ll make a part two if people are interested!
516 notes · View notes
themotherofhorses · 1 year
Text
you can pretend it's not meant to be (but you can't stay away from me)
summary: to you, he is fictional. but to him, you are everything and more. he can't live without you. and, really, there is no use in trying to run away, he'll always find you.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
pairing: (somewhat) dark!aemond targaryen x fem!reader
warnings: explicit language. noncon to dubcon. abduction. massive obsessive tendencies on aemond's part. breeding kink. slight spitting kink. pregnancy.
note: hey this is me practicing writing smut because ive never ever done it before and i don't know jackshit like wtf is a dick hahaha im dreading posting this hahahasendhelpplshaha
masterlist | series masterlist
part two | part three | part four | part five
Tumblr media
How did you end up here?
That was all you could ask yourself, over and over again.
It had only been hours ago, maybe, that you were sitting at home, rewatching the first season of House of the Dragon for what seemed to be the thousandth time. Perhaps you dozed off on the couch too, but that was it. You have heard of shifting techniques before- ways to visit your favorite fictional worlds- but you never sought to try them out yourself.
College left you too busy with assignments and textbook readings, as well as the constant and unwavering pressure to maintain both your scholarships and high GPA.
Ever the dutiful and driven daughter, hungry for academic validation and success.
Oh, fuck, your scholarships!
Your GPA!
All those assignments and discussions and exams!
And what about your family? Your mother and father? And your best friend?
Aemond Targaryen seems not to understand your words, and why you tell, beg, and plead for him to let you go. “Please, I need to go home,” you cry loudly, while yanking at the thick knots that bound you to his bedframe, “please! My family, my friends. They will be worrying when they don’t hear from me, and all my hard work and accomplishments, it will be for nothing! Please, I beg you, let me go home.”
But he just chuckles and kisses your forehead and says, “Oh, my sweet girl, I’m your family now. Or what is of it.” His lips feel so soft and wonderful, and how desperately you wish to enjoy the feeling. But not like this. You cannot think properly nor muster any sort of response, too distracted and stressed and focused on calming your breathing.
“Although,” he then adds with a smirk, “it truly is not considered a family until you have a babe of your own…or two.”
At his words, you tremble and whimper and try your best to break free, though it is all in stupid and foolish vain. There is no going anywhere, the knots are too tight and Aemond can easily overpower you. All you can do is stare up at the man you once considered your favorite character in the series, ever since the eighth episode aired and he stole your heart and soul and burrowed himself deep within your most inner thoughts and fixation.
“Do not worry,” he says, and you can see a twinkle in the violet of his eye. He rests a hand on your collarbone, gently drawing little shapes across the skin. “Good things will come out of this night, my love, I promise you that.”
Look on the bright side, you tell yourself, in some dumb attempt to steel your nerves, better Aemond Targaryen to lose your virginity to.
Tumblr media
“You need to be quieter, my darling-” Aemond murmurs close to your ear “-we do not need curious ears listening in, do we?” He has you riding him, both hands clutching your hips as you do your best to bounce on his cock and match his thrusts. You’re sloppy and inexperienced, and a bit confused on what exactly to do, but it is so endearing that his lips curl into a grin.
Oh, you were made for me, he thinks, watching the way your glazed-over eyes try to hold his gaze. He will have you believe that by the end of the night, dawning if necessary.
There is much rush now that he found you, now that he has the chance to claim you.
You still moan, loud and high-pitched, and he slaps a hand flat over your mouth to shut you up. It makes your pretty and teary eyes widen more as you grab at his wrist, holding onto it while he tuts. “I’ll move my hand when you learn to listen to your husband and stay quiet. No one is allowed to hear my wife in her pleasure. No one but I.” At that, you bat your eyelashes at him, breasts heaving as he leans you down, so close your lips nearly touch, and Aemond can feel your heavy pants against his mouth.
“They will take you away from me, and ship you far across the world where I can’t find you,” he hisses, pinching your swollen nipple between his fingers, “I can’t have that. No, no, do you hear me? I will not survive being torn from you.”
The mere thought of losing you, either at the hands of his mother and grandsire or you returning to your homeland, fills him with sheer dread.
He does not know how to tell you that you are the girl of his dreams, everything he has desired and more. He has seen you in his nighttime slumbers and in the gleam of the summer sunlight and up among the black midnight stars.
But the words fall apart on his tongue, and all he can do is lay beneath you and marvel at your beauty: cheekbones and pretty puffy lips and the curve of your nose, the way your eyebrows furrow in pure pleasure, and how you look utterly delicious and ruined.
“You were made for me,” he breathes in awe, palming at both your breasts. You have to believe him, this sweet and pretty girl of his, how could you not? The gods above created you for him, he will make you see it. “You are taking me so fucking well,” and Aemond flattens a palm against your belly, where he can feel the slight bulge of his cock. “Look at you, you’re my dream come true.” He thrusts his hips up, fucking into you harder and deeper. It makes you squeal and go cross-eyed.
“Is this too much? I know you can handle it, my darling. My love, my sweet girl,” he purrs.
Aemond swipes at the drool pooling at your lips before stuffing two fingers in. “Fuck,” he whines, breathing hard, slipping his other hand in between your thighs, and with his thumb, rubbing at your clit. Your face twists in a gasp as you tremble, your entire body tightening until you cream over his cock, your loud moan muffled by the fingers in your mouth.
“Good girl,” he hums, slowing his thrusts, “Such a good fucking girl. Look at that, did that feel good, my love?” he asks you.
You nod, rocking your hips back and forth. Your thighs shaking and your face scrunching in complete bliss as you start again, taking his cock deep in your stomach with tiny bounces. “Please- please- please-” you babble against his palm. “I-I want- I need-”
“Want what, my sweet girl? Need what, my darling wife?”
You don’t answer, too overtaken by the pleasure. Aemond chuckles and leans upwards, to bury his face between your breasts. You are absolutely stunning, gorgeous, a living goddess; how he went this long without you is baffling. “You wish for my seed. Is that what you want?” he mutters against your nipple, “of course you do, this belly is too empty, isn’t it? My son should be sleeping inside.” His fingers pinch your clit, and you gasp again. “You’ll be the prettiest mother. You were made to carry my children. You were made for me,” and he pulls your face back to his, with a rough grip on your chin.
“Tell me,” he demands through a pant, “tell me how fucking badly you need my seed. Tell me…tell me right now.”
“I- I need it-“ you choke out, but then you shake your head. “No- No I can’t! I- I need to go- go home!”
Aemond laughs, so hard he flings his head back. The sight takes you by surprise before he shoves you off, causing you to land next to him on the bed. You stare up at him, wide eyed and puzzled and swollen and covered in countless bites and bruises. In one swing, he forces your face into the pillow as he mounts you from behind, fucking you hard. His fingers return to your clit, squeezing and tweaking and not caring one bit about your muffled yelps and whines
“You’ll learn, my sweet girl, but perhaps not tonight. I am your home now, do you understand? I’m your family, your husband, and the father to your children.”
He grabs a fistful of damp hair and yanks your face back, never once slowing his thrusts. Your mouth is open with many moans spilling out, eyes clouded with tears, and cheeks flushed. With his lips next to your ear, he whispers, “You are going nowhere.” Then propping himself on one arm, he trails small kisses up your back to your shoulder blade until his mouth slams down on yours in a heavy and wet kiss.
And when he pulls away, his fingertips squeeze your cheeks together as he demands for you to open your mouth. "You are mine," he grunts, "you belong to me," before spitting into it. "Good, now swallow."
And when you do, he smiles.
"There, see?" he coos, leaning to kiss your forehead as he feels you tighten around his cock. He was going to seed you again, deep inside your womb. Come the morning, he knows his son will be in there, and he can hardly wait.
"My wife, my darling girl, the only woman deserving of me and all of me. Only me." He watches you sob at that, pink lips pressing in a tight line as fat tears streak down both cheeks. "Oh, do not worry, my love. You're too lovely to be crying," and he uses his thumb to brush away the tears, "I'm here to give you the life you deserve," he vows, so lovingly, "you will want for nothing."
Tumblr media
With a loud huff, you plop yourself on the couch.
The saying “home sweet home” never felt more sincere until now. It took much time and planning and effort and sneaking around on your part, but you managed to find a way to escape from Aemond Targaryen, though not without consequences. Your belly was growing only larger with every new moon, and your babe was starting to shift around more. At most times, you could feel the fluttering sensation across the bottom of your tummy, and every now and then, the tiniest kick.
It was adorable, you admitted, and you tried your best to find enjoyment throughout the pregnancy, sometimes wondering at night about who your child would resemble.
Would their looks favor yours? Or would they favor their father, with his Valyrian features- that iconic silver hair and violet eyes. The latter worried you the most. How could you even begin to explain why your child looked as if they belonged in the Game of Thrones series, specifically in House Targaryen?
Speaking of such, you had not touched House of the Dragon since you arrived back home all those months ago, too unwilling to turn on the tv and see the man whose child you were mysteriously carrying in your womb. It just did not make any sense, it felt more like a weird dream than reality.
But you were dying of boredom. The dragonling (you had taken to nicknaming the baby that, it sounded both cute and appropriate) was stealing away most of your time and energy, and your mother refused to allow you to do anything that could cause harm or add more unnecessary stress.
So you bit your tongue and swallowed down your grumbles and settled comfortably on the couch before opening Fire and Blood.
“Fucking crazy to think that this is a book of your family’s history,” you mumbled to your baby bump, “fictional my ass.”
So you read, to yourself and to your babe. Read about Aegon’s Conquest and the Year of the Three Brides and King Jaehaerys and his Alysanne and their triumphs and tragedies and legacy, and you read until you reached The Dying of the Dragons, the Blacks and the Greens, where you just sighed.
“And when Alicent sent for her second son to fly to Storm’s End, with the purpose of securing Borros Baratheon’s loyalty to Aegon II by winning the hand of one of his daughters, the Four Storms, the truth was finally known. One-eyed Prince Aemond, twenty and one, had taken a wife of his own in secret, a young maiden not of Westeros (according to Mushroom). Yet Prince Aemond lost her a month into their marriage, although by that time he had become so besotted with his bride, to such an extent that he could not bear the thought of living without her or taking another woman as his new wife.
With Prince Aemond refusing his mother’s orders, Queen Alicent had little choice but to send her youngest, Prince Daeron, in his place to Storm’s End. And by the seventh month, Prince Daeron wedded Floris Baratheon, and Prince Aemond One-Eye had reunited with his wife, who was heavy with child by the time he found her.”
You suddenly glance up from the book pages, feeling your heart hammering so hard in your chest that it seems at the end of your throat. On the wall, to your right, hung the calendar which you had taken to use as a means of tracking your pregnancy.
In two weeks, you’ll be at your seventh-month mark.
Tumblr media
5K notes · View notes
rafayelism · 6 months
Text
after-shower hair-care | boyfriend!wriothesley x fem!reader
wriothesley blowdries your hair after you take a shower. (he's hopelessly in love with you).
(´• ω •`) ♡ the only fem pronoun in here is 'ma'am' <3
Tumblr media
you sit between wriothesley’s knees, head slumping into his lap as he cards his fingers through your hair. the blow dryer is warm and so are his hands as he dries the damp strands, fingers gentle as he massages oil onto your scalp. you’re drifting in and out of sleep, stirring slightly when you feel his hands move to caress the curve of your cheek. 
“my turn, babe.”
you shuffle, turning to face him, vaguely noticing that he’s tied your hair up in a claw clip. 
“wrio…” you mumble, pressing your cheek against his thigh. “m’ tired. later.”
“nuh-uh,” he says, eyebrow raised. “i want my hair done too.” 
you wrap your arms around his waist, eyes shut. he smells like your peach body wash. 
“but you’re so comfy.” 
you can’t see the smile on wriothesley’s lips as he puts his arms on each of your shoulders and shakes. 
“wriothesley!” you exclaim, his laugh contagious as you brace your hands on his knees. slightly dizzy, you look up at him as his body shakes from laughter, eyes gleaming. his hair is still damp from the shower, a towel around his neck as he holds a blow dryer in his hands. it doesn’t help that he’s not wearing a shirt, either. “you-” 
a blast of hot air in your face. your mouth drops as wriothesley turns the blow dryer on max, turning the heat down after he remembers your complaints about how hot the blow dryer gets. 
“don’t go falling asleep on me, pretty.” he says, tilting your chin up. “or i’ll blow dry your cute face.”
“wrio-” 
he cuts your words off with his lips, ever so gentle as he kisses your complaints away. he pulls away and your dizziness is back. 
“i’m gonna get you back.” you pout, getting up to trade places with him on the bed. “i’ll show you what these fists taste like.” 
“yes, ma'am.” wriothesley salutes. you groan. 
“oh god.” you look down at him as he sits on the carpet between your legs, his legs crossed lazily as he bats his eyelashes up at you. he hands you the blow dryer. “you were into that, weren’t you!” 
“i’m into you.” wriothesley corrects. he’s incredibly smug. you hide behind your palm as you blush, biting the inside of your cheek as his hands gently remove any obstructions from your face. “let me see your pret-”
you turn the blow dryer on max. 
“oh, i like you.” wriothesley says in between his laughter, turning so that you can focus your attention on his hair. “love you, actually.” he corrects. 
“love you too.” you say, ruffling the black and gray strands of his hair. he places a kiss on your knee. you pause before kissing the crown of his head. 
you continue blow drying his hair, towling the strands occasionally. wriothesley’s thankful you’re so focused on his hair that you don’t notice how warm his face has gotten, nor his crimson red cheeks as he blushes into his palm.
913 notes · View notes
sister-lucifer · 1 year
Note
can we get gross pervy dom toby content 🙏
Some Gross Pervy Dom Toby Content 
Toby Rogers x Gender Neutral Reader
Genre: NSFW 
Summary: There is really no plot to be summarized, Toby’s just a horndog and he chased you down. good fuckin luck  
Content/Warnings: Dubcon/Noncon elements, implied stalking, horror elements, Toby being creepy, Toby smells you and touches you in the weirdest manner you can possibly imagine, NSFW with minimal (mostly implied) plot, no real sex happens just fucked up shit, no seriously this is nasty as fuck i’m getting put on a list for this 
Like my writing? I take requests! NSFW or SFW for any fandoms in my bio (request rules + masterlist in pinned post)!
Also, please reblog! it’s free, takes two seconds, and really helps me out 
Feedback is encouraged and appreciated:)
Not fully proofread! Let me know if you see any errors!
A/N: Just to avoid confusion, in my headcanon Toby has a stutter as well as but separate from his tourette’s; i’m writing his stutter, not his tics! thankies!
also READ THE FUCKING WARNINGS THIS ONE IS NASTY
Staring down the barrel of a loaded gun would fill you with less dread than staring up at the lanky boy who’s currently towering over you. 
You don’t have to look at him to know there’s a twisted smile filled with crooked, chipped teeth spread across his face, hazel eyes scrunched at the corners as he grins like a madman. You don’t want to look at him, really, but you can’t stop yourself before you’re slowly craning your neck to see. Slowly his face comes into view, and it’s even more unsettling than you could prepare for. 
His messy brown hair flicks up in all directions and partly obscures his eyes, and yet they seem to glow in the dim light of the sunset. One of his arms is above you, folded against the wall, while the other cages you into the corner. Besides his fingers drumming restlessly, he’s not moving, but his entire body is trembling with….excitement? His chest is heaving like he’s struggling to breathe, and the uncomfortable feeling of his warm exhale fanning over your face makes you shudder, and…oh god, is he drooling over you? Shit—
You press yourself hard against the wall, face burning hot against the cool air of the drafty abandoned building. Something tells you you shouldn’t take your eyes off of him for too long, but in your peripheral vision you can see through the broken windows. There’s nothing but trees in all directions, and the sky is rapidly darkening with each passing second. You’re watching any chance you had of escaping in the daylight slip from your fingers. Everything is becoming much too disorienting much too fast, thoughts racing and overlapping and screaming at you to do something, but you can’t. All at once you’re trying to figure out an escape plan, how to appease your captor for long enough to execute an escape plan, and how you even got here in the first place. 
The last thing you remember is running from him, the branches of the thicket grabbing at your pants and arms as if trying to hold you back. You had no choice but to run into the old hospital, but now you’re wishing you’d simply kept going. 
You must’ve moved too much for Toby’s liking, because he suddenly grabs onto your arm with a grip that feels strong enough to snap the bone in two. You yelp in pain, a second gloved hand quickly clamping over your mouth. The echo of your cry rings loud in your ears, and for a moment you wonder if it’ll ever go quiet again. 
“You…you…” Toby stutters, and your eyes widen at the sound of his voice. You aren’t sure what you were expecting to hear, but he just sounds so…normal, like any other nineteen year old boy, except if it were anyone else in any other scenario a mere couple of syllables wouldn’t strike such fear into you. 
“You ran a loooong t-time…” He scolds, but his grin doesn’t falter. He brings his hand away from your mouth to shake a finger at you, seemingly trusting you not to scream. 
Not like it would matter. You made him chase you pretty far in. 
In an instant his hands are on your waist, slipping under your shirt and eagerly grabbing at the soft flesh he finds beneath. You have to bite your tongue to hold back another yelp. 
“Oh, ooohh but it w-was worth it!” Toby slurs with a drawl, “I’ve f-finally fooouund yooouu, aha…” 
He sounds so proud of himself. Something about his tone is almost childish, deceivingly so. He truly thinks he’s done something amazing. 
Your heart skips a beat when he suddenly freezes, face going void of all emotion, and you wonder if you’ve truly angered him. If you did, would that be the mistake that ended it all? 
Fortunately, it seems he was just changing gears. You panic when you realize he’s leaning in towards you, but he moves past your face to practically bury his nose in your neck, taking a long and deep breath. He lets out a faint laugh as he breathes out, and it feels like a horrible sensation crawling down your spine. The only thing you can do is grab onto his arms, nails digging into the dirty and worn fabric of his hoodie. It’s practically caked with dried mud in some areas and you can feel the dry cracking beneath your hands. 
“I m-missed your…your s-smell…” Toby whispers. You’re confused for a moment, and it takes a few seconds for it all to set in. 
‘Missed?’ 
He’d…smelled you before? 
He ‘missed’ you… 
“I-I should have…should have visited m-more…I-I got ssso busy, b-but I didn’t forget you, I-I promise…” 
He keeps talking, but it starts to fade out. Only a few words matter, anyways. 
There’s an incredibly brief moment of clarity that flashes through your mind, a split second flicker of understanding that you hadn’t just been misplacing or losing things, that you weren’t imagining all those noises or shadows that you told yourself were childish things to be afraid of, and it nearly floods your brain before it disappears as quickly as it appeared. Maybe you purposefully pushed it out, at least for now. There was too much going on to process the past. If you were lucky enough to get out of this alive, you could reflect then. 
You’re frozen for a few moments as Toby’s idle hands begin to wander, as they always do. He’s at least considerate enough to feel you up through your clothes, but that doesn’t stop you from sucking in a harsh breath through your teeth when he roughly gropes your ass. It forces you to push yourself into him as you try to get away from the aggressive grip. You can feel him laugh with his chest pressed flush against yours. 
He takes the opportunity to wrap his arms around you, and it’s become painfully obvious that he’s much stronger than he looks. You’d never expect someone so skinny to be able to manhandle you like this. 
He sways slowly from side to side as he holds you, one unsteady hand toying with your hair in a gesture that, on Toby’s end, seems as though it is meant to be sincere. 
“Th-There’s so much I want t-to do to y— to do with y-you…so little time…” He goes on muttering to himself over something or other, but you can’t understand him as he trails off. 
He seems preoccupied with his own thoughts, distracted enough that you begin to squirm. He doesn’t react, continuing to quietly rant about nothing while stroking your head. You struggle again, a bit bolder this time. Nothing. 
Maybe you actually had a chance, you just had to slip away. Hell, maybe you’d get lucky and run the right way on the first try; for all you know you’re only a mile away from a highway, that could be your lifeline. You just had to slip away— 
“Stop it! Stop doing that!” 
…Easier said than done, it seems. 
Hearing Toby yell, seemingly allowing a genuine flash of anger to overtake him as he slams you back against the wall, chills you to the core. He was unpredictable, bouncing back and forth between the extremes of whatever emotion he was feeling, making it impossible to plan around his potential actions. 
His hand splays out across your chest to keep you pinned to the wall. He’s applying much more pressure than he needs to, and he knows it. His smile twitches as you struggle to recover from having the wind knocked out of you. 
When he reaches back for his pocket, you expect him to pull out a weapon; maybe a knife, or even a small handgun you somehow hadn’t noticed. 
But no. He returns with something much smaller, and your brows furrow in confusion as you struggle to make out the shape among the shadows that have quickly taken over your space. 
“What’s t-the matter?” Toby asks, “Never seen a-a condom before?”
He snickers cruelly at the way your mouth hangs open in reply. 
“Whaaaat? I-I’m trying to be nice…don’t be a bitch.” 
“N…Nice?!” You choke out in reply, and this time Toby’s jaw drops. 
“Oh, it does speak!” He exclaims with genuine excitement. “Good, good…s-so good…” 
He holds the corner of the wrapper in his mouth so that his hand can be free to fumble with his belt. The sound of the buckle clanking as he slips it off makes your stomach flip. Your gaze flicks quickly back and forth from his pants back to his eyes, and he hasn’t stopped staring at you. You haven’t even seen him blink. 
His tongue runs over his glistening teeth as he prepares to speak again: 
“I h-hope you squeal for me, pretty thing…When we’re done here, I’m t-takin’ you with me…” 
3K notes · View notes