dbf!rafe thought he was doing a pretty good job at pretending he didn’t care too much about you. but it was coming to the late afternoon, and he’d driven past you wandering around town on your own wearing one of those stupid little mini skirts you’re crazy about and he had to do his duty and command you come with him. for your safety of course. he’d hate if some sick older guy got his hands on you.
“get in. c’mon.” he’s already acting irritable with you and it only spurs you on to act mischievous.
“why so glum, hm?” you pout, letting a small giggle slip through as you fasten your belt — the friend of your fathers glancing around the area briefly to see if anyone had seen his bosses daughter climb into his car before zipping off.
“what’d i tell you last time i saw you just— just walking around asking for trouble?” he berates and he’s not even sure why he’s so wound up. you just got him so pent up and touchy that he always found himself being this way with you.
“asking for trouble? mr cameron i was just hanging out.” you laugh, stretching your legs and going to rest your feet on his dashboard. he shoves your legs off, sending you a scalding glare.
“in that little skirt? yeah i wasn’t born yesterday, alright— you were probably off meeting guys.” he grumbles and you turn your head to him, heart fluttering at the jealous tone he had failed to conceal.
“oh no, not hanging out with guys my own age… that would be the most awful thing in the world, right?” you sark, and he resents the way he can hear the pretty smile in your voice without even turning his attention away from the road. he huffs out a scoff, shaking his head as he pulls up to the traffic light.
“told your old man i’d look out for you, right so — so i am just telling you that you shouldn’t be wandering around meeting guys dressed like a hooker. i know how guys brains work, okay — i am a guy. s’why i’m taking your ass home where you can’t get into any of that shit.” he rants, and before you can complain about him calling you a hooker your attention is caught by his promise to bring you home and you shoot up in your seat.
“no, please. just— anywhere else. not home.” you suddenly sound serious, and he nearly misses the stoplight turning green to glance at you in confusion.
“and why the hell not?” he drawls and suddenly you’re a lot more quiet. he raises his eyebrows waiting for a response.
“i’m fighting with my parents. i just… i don’t want to see them yet.” you sigh, staring at your manicure in your lap. as much as he wanted to teach you a lesson and drag you back into the house to your father, he knew what it was like to have a rocky relationship with his parents. because of this he sighs after his slight hesitation and turns in the direction away from your house.
“ah… shit, alright fine. the fuck do you wanna go then? gotta drop you somewhere, alright?” he relents and you beam.
“really? thanks mr cameron.” your elated expression calms itself into a pur as you lean across the gear stick and press a kiss to his cheek. he clenches his jaw.
“watch it.”
to this you respond with a giggle and he relaxes a little, knowing he had a little more time with you.
“where do you wanna go then? haven’t got all day, kid m’not a fuckin’ taxi.”
“hmm, your place?” you’re quick with your answer, almost like you had it planned. he’d given in a few times, let you have your way with him even though he knew it put his career on the line — and he told himself and you that this could go on no longer.
he huffs out a laugh, scratching at his cheek and shaking his head, choosing to ignore the suggestion. your bottom lip curls over at this, frowning a little.
“raaafe.” you whine and he resists an eye roll.
“what you’re — you’re serious about that shit?”
“mhm… i missed you…” you coo, and he feels your warm body lean across the centre console again, a clawed hand finding his thigh as you speak into his ear. “c’mon dad.” you groan and he feels a hot rush of blood fly through him at the nickname. god you were sick.
“don’t fuckin’ call me that.” he turns into his driveway at tannyhill, parking up infront of the house haphazardly before turning off the car and not making any move to get out.
“just wanna play a little bit.” you complain, kissing down his white shirt leaving lipgloss prints that he’d soon complain about down the expensive material as he watches you with parted lips, feeling your hot breath fan over his hardening crotch.
“well if you’re gonna suck me off just fuckin’ do it alright. don’t wanna hear that shrill ass little voice unless you’re tellin’ me how good that shit tastes. c’mon.”
you couldn’t help but obey.
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It's Wetnessday my hoes 💦
You're invited along to a bachelorette in Vegas but don't have a great time. It's ok but you often get left out. Just like now in an expensive club that you can't even afford a drink in. You're watching your friends dance and have a good time until a handsome stranger sits down next to you. He's easy to talk to and even buys you a few drinks without seeming to want anything out of it. It's so nice you even forget your friends and your drinking limits. One drink too many and you're more than tipsy. Which ends with you waking up with a huge handover. You're sore all over and don't know why till you open your eyes and realize you went back to the hotel with the stranger who definitely was naked next to you. Holy shit his dick was huge and judging by the soreness it was inside you just a few hours ago. You go to rub your face and something sparkling on your finger catches your eyes. As you're freaking out your husband wakes up and makes sure any rational thought is fucked out of your brain. He can't have that when he's taking you to your new home later today.
Who's your new husband?
xoxo Wetnessday anon 💦
Hi Wetnessday Anon! 🥰 I hope you're feeling better and this week is treating you good 🩷
Now I decided to give it a serious thought. On one hand, many of my favored babes could fit the description of a charming, slightly deceitful man with a pretty, big cock 😎
Now I thought of not only which man would hold the conversation through the evening, making you feel at ease, but who wouldn't feel guilty for getting you really tipsy and using your vulnerable state to get what he wanted.
He may have been drinking, as well, but he sure paid attention to his level of alcohol. I don't believe the Vegas marriage here was pure stupidity and coincidence of the typical Vegas crazy drunk night. He orchestrated it. Even if it was a decision made on a whim. Bet it wasn't even an Elvis chapel, but some scared registrar brought to officiate the wedding in the privacy of the most expensive hotel room.
Which means your husband is someone who can be impulsive in his decisions, but makes sure their execution is perfected. No mistakes. No trails leading hounds to his door.
Lloyd crossed my mind, but would you really feel at ease with him in the beginning? There's this edge to him that wouldn't make you trust him enough to let him buy you more drinks.
Andy or Ari, however...
They don't spend each evening in their clubs, they have trusted people who are responsible for the smooth working of that business machinery. But it just so happens they were in that particular one when you and your friends were celebrating, since they held a meeting in the office right above the main floor.
Andy was quite annoyed with Ari, who kept glancing through the two-way mirrors at you, sitting there alone and nursing a drink while you pretended your smiles were genuine.
But Andy has been prickly lately, ever since the head of the mafia family declared that Andy was to solidify their take-over of the turf by taking a bride. A sister of the man who was now subservient to the new iron rule.
Andy would follow with the plan, even if he wasn't happy about it (even if he snapped at Steve Rogers himself that he should get himself a wife, if he so wishes for unions in blood).
Ari - the romantic that he was - fell into the wedding spirits. Especially as he watched the bachelorette party take over the dance floor and gain attention of most of the patrons.
He wasn't planning on actually marrying anyone, not at the moment as he walked down the stairs and onto the club floor. But then he slid onto that chair beside you and with each passing quarter felt the need to possess your attention forever increase.
Ari may not believe in love at first sight, but he trusted his instincts. And they whispered at him to take you. To make you his.
Now, as you screech and storm out of the bathroom, holding your hand outstretched as if the big diamond on your finger was burning you alive, Ari feels that excitement and satisfaction ignite anew.
Your eyes are so beautiful as you stare up at him shocked and hopeful, as if he could solve this problem and save you from any dangers.
And he will.
Just not from this marriage. No, this he will ensure you see as a blessing, not a problem at all.
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GOJO SATORU: ❛❛ FINDERS KEEPERS, LOSERS WEEPERS! ❜❜
.ೃ࿐ streamer!au: the user "gojoslittleslut" tries to make a move on your boyfriend, but she doesn't stand a chance
contents: fem!reader. it's not too serious, nobody gets angry/jealous (except the comments lol). if u haven't already read the other streamer!gojo works u probably should so u understand the dynamic between satoru and his commenters !
author's note: reader is actually a mature person who doesn't pick fights with random ppl on the internet and i think we should all be more like her ꨄ︎
satoru leans back in his chair, idly chatting with people who pop up in his comments after he finishes his last round of the co-op game. his viewers are eager to chat, and some even shoot money satoru's way to draw his attention. whenever someone donates money, he gives them a quick shoutout and has a small back-and-forth with them, and he does that for everyone.
that is, until a user with a questionable username donates to his stream.
gojoslittleslut has donated $100.00!
gojoslittleslut: notice me pls
"shit, a hundred dollars?" satoru says, raising his eyebrows in mild surprise. "thanks, gojoslittl— oh, fuck, what is that?"
you look up from your laptop and see the way your boyfriend's cheeks have gone bright red. satoru laughs a bit nervously, so you get up and walk over, making sure to stay out of sight of the camera. you sit on satoru's desk beside his computer and peer at his screen curiously.
gojoslittleslut: im ur number one fan~
satoru's eyes flicker to yours for a second before he looks back at his monitor. "ah, well, thanks for the donation!" he replies, completely ignoring the user's advances.
suguru-geto: he has a gf ...
gojoslittleslut: yeah
gojoslittleslut: me
you cover your mouth to suppress a giggle, scrunching up your nose at satoru to let him know that you really weren't taking it too seriously. after all, it's just some random person on the internet—they don't stand a chance with your boyfriend.
satoru reaches over and takes your hand, twining his fingers with yours off-camera. he ignores the sudden burst of comments that litter the corner of his screen, instead watching you intently. in response, you roll your eyes playfully and blow him a kiss, snickering when satoru pretends to faint.
eventually, he turns back to his screen, cerulean eyes doing a quick once-over of his new comments.
toji-fushiguro: ill take his gf any day
inumaki: we know gtfo
gojoslittleslut: toji i get gojo and u take his girl. deal?
toji-fushiguro: bet
"alright guys, settle down," satoru huffs, rolling his eyes. "for the record, i still have a girlfriend and i don't plan on changing that anytime soon," he clarifies, addressing the current feud going on in his comments.
satoru's a good streamer—he does his best to keep things cordial and lighthearted with his audience, but he also knows his limits. one of his limits involves people trying to separate you and him, his one true pairing (of course satoru's otp is his own relationship).
your boyfriend leans closer to the screen and scowls good-naturedly, holding up the hand still wrapped around yours. "this isn't gonna change, so don't even think about it!"
satoru says his goodbyes and then ends the stream, turning to you with a sigh. "how down bad do you have to be to name yourself 'gojo's little slut?'" he grumbles, clicking through his stream analytics and finding the user. he opens gojoslittleslut's profile and studies it for a moment before hovering his mouse over the block button.
he leans back in his chair and tilting his chin up at you. "she just gave me a hundred dollars, so i kinda feel bad about blocking her," satoru muses, tapping his foot on the floor. he looks up at where you still sit on his desk, twirling a strand of hair around your finger. "c'mere," he mumbles, slipping his hands around your waist and hoisting you into his lap with a soft grunt.
satoru rests his chin on your shoulder and nudges his face into your neck, breath tickling your skin. "you know that i'm all yours, right?"
"of course i do," you murmur, settling into his arms. he's warm and comfortable, like always. satoru smiles warmly and kisses the side of your face, letting his lips linger.
"good. 'cause no fan account's ever gonna change that."
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i have an idea :]
ok so i always see people asking for gentle/needy/desperate choso. and i love it, but…
what about unassumingly ruthless choso? reader doesn’t know what she’s getting into? reader is cocky and gets humbled FAST? idk i just…
👉👈
❤︎ ໋𓈒 choso who puts his cute bratty gf in her place
warnings. fem! reader, attempted brat taming, doggystyle, big dick choso, unprotected.
you’ve always been one to push his buttons, mainly because he always made it so easy.
choso was as intimidating as a kitten, whenever you’d tease him he’d always keep composure or restrain himself.
briefly smiling nervously, kissing your wrist and telling you to be a good girl and wait until you each return home.
but one day, he kind of just snaps…
he takes you home from shopping nearly all day with you, and you were enthusiastically ecstatic. you wondered what he’d do this time, but your thoughts were no match for what he had initially planned. to put it brief, choso had you laid on the bed on all fours. he’s drilling ruthlessly into your pussy and you’re just…speechless. choso’s so handsy, every few seconds he’d spank your ass to hear you whine out his name—in such two slutty syllables.
“c-choso..” you’d moan, the left side of your cheek attached practically to the silk bed sheets as if it was velcro.
“shh, no talkin, princess,” he grunts, and you could hear the slight whine picking up his voice before he stops himself. “i-i have to be more stern with you it seems. can’t always be so nice, gotta humble you just a little bit, fuck.”
if it was a word to perfectly describe you right now, at this particular moment…it would for sure be…dumbfounded.
you couldn’t see yourself but you’d bet money you looked stupid.
choso’s dick was so lengthy, appetizing and hitting every spot with just the tiniest amount of pressures his thrusts had you gnawing on the inside of your cheek with your toes curling tightly.
“what’s the matter? no more attitude?” he huffs, tilting his head to move some remaining strands that were starting to occlude his vision.
“i-if you’re gonna be rough, at least go h—”
“…oh, baby, you’re jus’ asking for it by this point.” he murmurs, wiping his forehead with the back of his palm.
your eyes rolls at feeling the very tips the curve of choso’s cock kiss against your folds. so deep, his thrusts were sloppy. purely responsible for the squelched that continuously sang throughout the room.
choso grabs onto both of your waist, and you moan once he’s just dragging your hips back and forth against him, making sure you feel every thick inch of his.
“do me a favor ‘n arch your back more,” immensely, you do—your body responds to choso with such a quickness it was simply humiliating. “good girl….now,” and you barely recognize choso’s voice. usually it’s so sweet and tender, now it was rough and a bit husky, a rasp hidden underneath each sentence he spoke.
needless to say, you found this version of choso to be quite hot.
“wait,” he pauses, pausing the mood with his own cute stammer in his voice, back to normal. “not goin' to rough, am i? i want you to be comfortable and-”
“baby, ‘m fine. keep fucking me please.” you pleaded, feeling his hips stutter as he was in the middle of talking. even trying to keep up a act, he still wanted to make sure you were okay—choso simpers to himself, caressing your ass before spanking it yet another time.
“okay okay,” he hums. his hips pick up again and you’re basically being pounded into the bed. the grip he had on your hips wasn’t too rough but just the perfect amount.
choso’s breathing starts to pick up, and he enjoys the view of you more than he thought he would. his head goes back, along with his let down hair before he pivots his hips a certain way. your pussy clamped down against him and you hear his jaw clench in pleasure. “…shit.”
your legs quavered beneath him, and he then used a hand to bring both of your wrists behind your back. “j-just like that choso, please, please.”
“baby, you’re not supposed to be praising me,” he pouts, and you giggle before moaning again — a sudden moment occurs where you thickly swallow, only to continue your sweet whimpers. “this was s-supposed to be a punishment.”
“so punish me then.” you mewled, your cunt easily hugs him like a vice, the noise it makes, a wet pop and you’re just soaked. choso’s ears grows hot from the feeling and he knows you can feel it too.
he sighs, shoving you further into the bed. “you’re something else.” and his voice grows low and pitched again—yet choso does the unexpected. he leans right into you, and you instantaneously feel the heel of his foot press against the very back of your head.
he wore socks, the soft padded wool brushes against your neck, and he’s roughly driving into your pussy now to where you can’t even saying anything.
all that came out of your dumb mouth was a squeal, this angle…
“let me have you,” he grunts, balls deep, his base was thick and repeatedly thwacked against your entrance. you were dizzy…drunk, but not that kind of drunk. the good kind where all you could think about was how good you were getting stuffed by your boyfriend’s hefty cock. “yeah, just lie down and let me—fuck.”
you’re panting, and it felt so good.
choso was always used to being gentle and tender with you, although if you wanted him to be a little rougher, he was more than happy to oblige.
“i-i’m gonna cum, choso… gonna make me cum.”
“don’t think you deserve it, he utters, and your lips part, jaw dropping, plethora of sweetened moans only escaping as a subtle response. “you’ve been teasing me all day. even started to stroke me in the dressing room.”
“s-sorry.” you moaned.
choso remains with his foot near the back of your head before pursing his eyebrows together. “you’re not sorry are you, baby? be honest.”
“n—no,” you whined, the thickness of his shaft twitching inside of you felt so heavenly. you could have sworn you felt a vein that ran down his length pulse inside of your tight cunt. “you’re right, you’re right, ‘m not s-sorry.”
he chuckles. “you could have just lied, you know?”
choso’s angle and thrusts against you were so pivotal inside you, so astonishingly deep that not even moments later you end up cumming hard. leaving a ring around his base. your breathing was irregular and heavy, eyes half-lidded and just convulsing underneath him.
“messy girl,” he whispers, pulling out, not even caring that he didn’t finish, all that matters was that you did. choso turns you over before planting a kiss on your lips—you pull him in for another, and another, before you make him trample onto you. “did you learn your lesson?”
“no,” you moaned, sitting up before lightly shoving him down on his back, straddling his lap now. “i want more.”
choso smirks, sliding a hand down your waist, fully disregarding his flustered face at seeing you attempt to take control. “of course you do, brat.”
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