#trevor kirchner fanfic

[hecohansen31]

Fire Of My Loins

Trevor KIrchner+Younger Margaret’s Sister! Reader:

(A/N): Hello, lovelies!

Before you extract your knives to fight me… just know that I am working on “More Than You Bargained For” (2), which will be named “More Than You Can Give Me” (these shits are getting longer than Fall Out Boy’s titles).

But while I was working on it, I ended up not being truly able to focus on it (I still can’t), and this fic low key helped me a bit!

I STILL HATE TREVOR WITH ALL MY GUTS (and haven’t seen 9x07, when I wrote this) but hey… he low key inspired me to write this, so I honestly couldn’t help but write this down, and I hope it won’t be too much!

(Alongside the fact that “Lolita”, “Off The Races”, “Put Me In A Movie” by Lana del Rey have been on my youtube playlist since for-freaking-ever...).

Also the title is inspired by “Lolita” and it is nothing more than a quotation of a book that a truly appreciate for his writing style, which if you have read doesn’t glamorize any kind of relationship between an older man and a child, so please don’t make a shitstorm for that.

Reader in this case is an adult, since she is completely legal, being 22.

This was just a little disclaimer, because I know it might be controversial, and if anybody feels even slightly offended by it, just let me know!

Much love!

SUMMARY: It was supposed to be a  “bright new start”, but apaprently it is much easier than it seems to go back to your previous life, mostly when your sister’s husband seems so attractive...

WORDS: 9 K.

WARNINGS:

Older! Man+Younger! Girl (Trevor according to me is either 36-40, meanwhile Reader is 22), Mention of Child Neglect and Domestic Abuse (alongside attempts of Sexual Assault), General Violence and Use of Drugs, Daddy Issues, Seducing an Older! Man, Mention of Reader’s past as a sex worker, Fingering and Oral Sex (Male-Female Receiving), PTSD, Nudity.Vulgarities.

Being Margaret Booth’s sister wasn’t an easy thing.

The big age gape had made you always take a deep distance from the other, but honestly the more they went on, the more she didn’t want to be associated with that psycho.

After Margaret’s traumatic experience at Camp Redwood, the first one, their parents’ attention had been all on her, not matter how much she cried or asked for it, as a small child in need of her parents’ help.

She remembered perfectly the night when her stomach had hurt terribly and she had cried till it had given her an headache, meanwhile her parents comforted her older sister from a nightmare, completely ignoring her, she had had to call the ambulance herself and at the hospital she had discovered her appendix had busted open.

When the social services had asked her why her parents hadn’t taken her themselves to the hospital, she had lied, not wanting to be separated by them and the silent abuse had perpetuated but the more she grew up the more she found herself to search the lacking attention, everywhere outside home.

Older men were her favorites: she had once fucked one and he had left her a good grand on the bedside table of the dirty motel they had met at, and she had felt that rush of adrenaline that got her to become an escort for older men.

They doted on her desperately and she was good at fucking and listening to them.

It might have seemed an ideal paradise, but it hadn’t lasted: any of the man she “doted” upon seemed to have a flaw.

Jack had gambling debts and whenever he would be with her, he would steal some of her money and she was unable to say anything.

Bill liked to snort coke off her body, and he had tried desperately to get her hooked up on it, no matter how many times she told him she wouldn’t ruin her pretty head for it.

Kent was the worst: he was the reason why she was going back to her sister’s house.

He was violent, but he was the lover she had loved the most, desperately letting him control every single aspect of her life, alongside quitting her escort career, to move with him and the first days were idyllic.

She had had the best 21st birthday party ever and the following day she was in hospital, avoiding brain damage just because the police had been alerted by the hosts of the party promptly.

Kent had tried to smash her head against the wall, after he had seen her “drunkenly flirting” with one of the guests.

She hadn’t been able to press charges but somehow Kent had never talked to her, and she was pretty sure it was all due to Margaret, who had chosen to take care of her, as the good Samaritan.

She didn’t understand this change of heart, so suddenly made by Margaret.

They had always had this cold distance and she knew perfectly that her Jesus-fearing sister didn’t approve of her life, promiscuous and disgusting as she thought it was.

But she had been there once she had woken up from the hospital and had helped her through the rehabilitation eventually asking her to move in with her.

“… I just feel so guilty for stealing your childhood, sweetie” she had commented, as if she knew half of the things she had gone through “… come home with me, little sister”.

She hadn’t been able to say no, since she usually relied totally on the met she met with and fucked, and without Kent she had no home and money, hence… she would have been homeless.

It was better to stay in her psycho-sister’s house than the open air.

She had come home with Margaret on the day they had dismissed her, although she hadn’t completely healed, since headaches and nightmares plagued her mind.

“Welcome home” uttered Margaret, opening the door for her and showing her an extremely elegant sitting room, extremely modern and distasteful, but what could she have expected?

“Thank you, Margaret, I would like to sleep a bit, so if you don’t mind, can you show me my room?” she honestly just wanted to move in her room, settle the few things she had owned in her small suitcase and then sleep a bit, but Margaret promptly grabbed her arm, stopping her in her tracks-

“Listen to me, little tramp” oh here comes the Jesus-fearing bitch, hadn’t she missed her “… if you want to live under my house, there are some few rules: you don’t bring your “dates” here, I won’t let you desecrate my temple!”.

It took all her strength not to laugh in her face, but she just smirked a bit, nodding softly.

“… you stick to your room and don’t go out unless I tell you to” and then Margaret grabbed her chin in her hands, tightening the grip enough that she found herself panicking a bit, making her remember Kent’s bruising hands “… don’t embarrass me more than you have already done… “.

And she immediately left her chin, pushing her slightly, after she brushed away imaginary dirt from her elegant clothes fixing them and her own smile, gently leaning down to kiss her sister’s cheek, before she moved away, calling over a maid to show her the way.

She had been able to take a quick shower, at least her room had a bath linked to it, since it seemed to be the smallest one, something that she honestly didn’t like, but she knew better than to ask her sister for more, mostly after the little “discourse” they had had.

She honestly needed to get a grip on her life, in order for her to move away as soon as she could.

She had worked through her teen years before her “career” took over, but she hadn’t been able to attend college, since not only it made her anxious and nervous, but also, she was addicted to those men’s attention and when she “fell” for them, she devoted herself to them.

What a shitty life, had she chosen?

She was brushing her hair to dry them, simply dressed in a cotton nightgown she had found on her bed, definitely more modest than the ones she had owned, but the color gave her some kind of innocent allure.

When she moved to drop the towel in the bathroom, she found the door opening, without knocking.

She immediately turned around, as a deer in the headlights, scared that it might have been Margaret, and annoyed by the thought that somebody wouldn’t respect her privacy.

But it wasn’t Margaret.

It was a man.

Even worse.

Her heart started beating roughly and she found herself holding her hand out towards the handle of the door of the bathroom thinking that if she rushed she might hide behind it, but the man, almost as if sensing her nervousness immediately, raised his hands, trying to show that he wasn’t a threat.

“You must be (Y/N)” he commented, his tone was nice and sweet, clearly trying to calm down “… Margaret’s sister”.

“You surprised me” she simply mumbled, not knowing who this stranger was and keeping her hand onto the handle onto the bathroom door.

“I should have knocked” he muttered, clearly seeing her trembling “… I am Trevor Kirchner, Margaret’s husband”.

Margaret had never mentioned a second husband, in her visits.

So, she was a bit suspicious, but with the way he moved and acted he seemed not to want to scare her, and she relaxed a bit.

“… Margaret never talked about you” she simply uttered, and pushed herself to sit onto the bed, moving towards the little bottle of lotion she had managed to sneak away from Kent’s house, the smell of honey and roses intoxicating and comforting for her.

She tried to act nonchalantly, calming softly her nerves with the usual gestures, and immediately Trevor’s gaze shifted onto her legs, where she was smearing the lotion, and this didn’t go unnoticed from her, who took this time to analyze him better.

He was certainly charming, although some of his charm seemed ruined, shadowed by life and with the way his arms and legs moved spasmodically she knew it was drugs, and she couldn’t help but pout a little.

She would have gladly fucked him, before Kent.

Maybe just to spite Margaret.

“… she never talked about you either, till a week ago” he replied sassily, moving his eyes way from your shiny legs, as you pushed your arms up, as with them slightly your breast showcasing them more, in an act of subtle seduction that got Trevor quite engrossed, although he tried not show it “… just wanted to meet you and say that you are welcome to stay as long as you like”.

“I am staying here till I get a grip on my life” she stated, but Trevor just smirked at you, as if he didn’t believe you, as if he had said something like that to himself “… can you leave me alone? I prefer to do my beauty routine all alone, without creepy men staring at me”.

Most of her first week at the Booth Manor had been passed in her room, joining Margaret and Trevor only for dinner, when she felt like it.

When she didn’t, she just didn’t eat.

But at the start of the second week she felt bit better and most importantly due to the warmth of that summer day and the sunny weather she had thought about a little dive in Margaret’s tacky pool, although she didn’t own a bikini.

She hadn’t wanted to ask her sister, mostly due to the fact that Margaret had treated her like she was invisible and because she knew what kind of bikini her sister owned: matronly to say the least.

In the end, she had dipped into the water in her nightgown, a cotton white, very simple in details and puffy on the “sensitive zones”, such as her stomach and  her breasts, but as the water drenched her body, the fabric immediately attached itself to her body, revealing her skin.

She was enjoying a few breaststrokes in the water, when she heard a low whistle and realized that Trevor was leaning onto the swimming pool’s side, lounging onto it in a costume that showcased his “best attribute”.

She didn’t mind him any attention doing a few more laps around the pool, till she had enough, and another migraine hit her, making her quickly exit the pool, and reach out for her towel.

Which had been brought around herself with much care and when she opened her eyes, a bit comforted by the warm hug, she found Trevor gently helping her, and not looking at her almost naked body.

“Is everything alright, (Y/N)?” he asked, seriously worried and she promptly pushed away from him, quickly sitting on one of the sunbathing chair on the side of the pool, trying to regain a bit of composure.

“It’s just a headache, I strained myself today” she mumbled, meanwhile she adjusted her drenched hair and tried to stop her legs from trembling.

“Margaret said that you tend to have some headaches… can I do something about it?” he asked softly, and gently moving closer and she couldn’t help but wonder why he was like this.

He was certainly attracted to her: she had seen the way his stare lingered onto her, but he never dared, and she was sure it wasn’t out of respect or faithfulness to her sister.

She had heard them fight, and during those times her head would be hidden under the pillow, memory of Kent in her mind flashing and her tears rushing down.

“… just stop talking…” she uttered sharply, seeing Trevor’s mouth move onto a straight line, clearly displeased, before he moved away and entered the swimming pool, effectively leaving her alone.

An hour later she was back inside, but she was unable to stop watching Trevor from her window, the way he brushed his hair away wet and drenched and the way little drops of water caught fire in his skin as light hit them.

This would end badly.

By her third week with her sister, she understood perfectly why Margaret had brought her there.

She had thrown a party to celebrate some kind of business milestone and had paraded her sister as a rescue case, constantly getting praised for her good heart and kindness.

“Oh Margaret, you truly are a saint” they muttered, meanwhile she simply smiled behind her glass of champagne, hoping they could serve something heavier, just as Trevor did, whenever he would excuse himself to snort some coke, in his office.

Already, after only an hour since the charity event had started, she was damnably bored.

And wasn’t the only one.

The man she picked out was dressed elegantly, jeweled cufflinks, linking a sober attire that seemed the incarnation of purity and bigotry.

He wasn’t so chaste as she went down her knees and bobbed her head up and down around his length till his release stained her pretty red lips.

It was the little pick up she had needed, and she quickly turned towards the elegant marble sink to clean her face, but he quickly got ahold of her arm and pushed her to face him again.

She honestly didn’t find him in the slightest attractive anymore: his red face had a terrific smile and she felt dirty and used.

“Don’t expect me to let you go after you blew me as a pro, I bet that you fuck even better”.

Everything that Kent had done to her, before almost killing suddenly came back and her fought as the man tried to drag her back in the little bathroom cubicle, but he quickly shut her up, with one hand, meanwhile the other went between her legs, under her gown, hastily pushing down her panties.

He pumped himself a few times, but before he could penetrate her, some force rammed into him and he was pushed onto the ground and when her eyes finally focused, she realized it had been Trevor.

Almost ashamed, she rushed to push her panties back in place and adjust her dress, meanwhile the man screamed against Trevor.

She knew he would fucking judge her an whore.

“What the fuck, man?!”.

“She didn’t want you, Carl, you were fucking forcing yourself on her” he shot back, before picking up the little shit from the floor, and pushing him towards the exit, his pants still undone and his face red “… and if you so much as try to utter something, remember about that pre-nup with your wife… she’ll fucking ruin you, for having cheated on her”.

The man went immediately from red to white and before she knew it, he pushed himself back in control and exited hastily the bathroom, muttering something about “whores being fucking bitches”.

She rushed again to the sink, this time it wasn’t to check her lipstick, but she threw up into it, although she hadn’t eaten much, so nothing but liquid came out of her mouth, a truly disgusting show, but Trevor gently rubbed her back, holding back her hair, and uttering gentle encouragement.

He was nice enough to collect a bit of hygienic paper to clean her mouth, totally smearing her red lipstick, the only exception to Margaret’s modesty rule on her outfit, but effectively cleaning her up.

It was such a gentle gesture that it broke her.

“Get the fuck away from me” she ushered, slurring it as soon as she felt like she could walk away without her legs shaking “… leave me the fuck alone”.

Trevor sent her a bewildered look, one that told her that he didn’t understand her.

Well, he wasn’t the only one.

She had spent the following night, not sleeping just staring at the roof and crying.

Why was she like this?

Why did she feel this morbid need to screw somebody to feel better?

… and to push away anybody who was remotely gentle to her…

She didn’t join Margaret for breakfast, but she eventually went down the stairs to collect something to eat since her troubled stomach was grumbling loudly and she knew that death by starving was a bad look on her.

Not to talk about the fact that it would just take too long.

No, she needed something quick.

She caught Margaret on the threshold, with too many suitcases for a single person, and she immediately smirked as she saw her.

She was low key grateful that Trevor hadn’t uttered anything about catching her blowing some of their friends and then having a mental breakdown.

“.. this week I’ll be on a trip” she commented, cheerily “… the newest haunted house just ready for Halloween!”.

She faked being happy for her sister, before she turned to her mission, collecting something easy to eat, thinking about how she was stuck there with Trevor.

Had he ever cheated on her sister?

She hadn’t noticed any maid sneaking in and out of his “office” or any pretty young thing looking at him with malice.

Meanwhile she was thinking this, she heard knocking onto the kitchen’s walls, and when she turned around she saw Trevor looking at her as if he had found her a wounded animal, not knowing how to approach it.

But she was thankful he had knocked.

And pushed one of the sandwiches she had been doing towards him, a peace-offering.

“Oh no, sweetheart” he commented pushing it back to her “… you need to eat, you look like a scarecrow”.

This got him a playful fist to the side, which he faked had hurt him.

It was such a light moment that she honestly let out a laugh.

This seemed to take aback Trevor, as if he had heard the angelic voice of God.

“… by the way, since Margaret is not here I thought we could go out shopping” he mumbled, a bit shy, as if he was sure she would shoot down his idea “… you can’t go around with those nightgowns, and certainly can’t swim in them”.

She didn’t know why but the shyness in his voice intensified as he muttered the “nightgown” part gaining a smirk from her, and her hands gently traced the light patterns of her nightgown, indeed.

The cotton of it had brushed against her nipples enough to make them bloom in pebbles and she knew that he could see them, although he avoided to look straight up at her body.

“What is wrong with my nightgown?” she asked, feigning innocent, meanwhile he released a light laugh to hide his embarrassment.

“Just think about the heart-attack that we’ll give Margaret once she receives the notice of how much we spent”.

He didn’t have to say anymore.

She was used to men showing off her body, whenever she tried on clothes for them.

They didn’t want anything more than a quickie in the changing room and a pretty girl who smiled for them and wore pretty things.

But strangely with Trevor it was somehow fun: he constantly commented and made her wear the most absurd dresses, muttering about how much she looked ridiculous, just for her to do the same till the shopping clerks had enough of them and threw them out… kindly…

She hadn’t had this much fun… since ever.

They went to lunch to some fast-food place, something that got her to utter:

“Aren’t we supposed to be rich? We can do better than McDonald’s”.

Just for him to shot back as he stole some her fries:

“Is that sarcasm? Because I thought it was your usual tone”.

She just pouted a bit, kicking him under the table but he smirked, eating up his hamburger meanwhile she picked around her food, knowing she needed to speak up.

“… I am sorry for last night” she thought about ripping the band-aid immediately “… I don’t know what came onto me…”.

He stopped holding up a hand, to calm her rushing tone.

“It was the trauma, and I know about it…” he spoke as if it pained him to talk about this “…I was a survivor at Camp Redwood, one of the three alongside Margaret and Brooke”.

She knew that story all too well since Margaret didn’t lose any occasion to remind everybody about the fact that she had survived a camp murder spree not once but twice.

But Trevor, unlike her, seemed like he wanted to forget.

Hence the need for coke.

“… there are some things that make us feel that way and I am not going to judge you for that” he explained as if he got her and the way his eyes were shadowed, as if he was worried about something on his mind “… but if you ever need to talk…”.

“Margaret will pay me a good psychoanalyst” she replied, trying to shift the tense area that was created, although she shot a thankful smile on Trevor’s way, who moved onto slurping his drink.

“… that is the spirit” he commented but his tone was too serious “… if you have money, you can have anything”.

After lunch they were supposed to move away back home, mostly because she was again getting a migraine, but she was unable to stop herself from wanting to visit a bookstore again.

She hadn’t visited many, during her life with Kent, mostly segregated in the “trophy wife” role, so she couldn’t help but brush eagerly her hand through the papers, meanwhile Trevor had gone to the bathroom, asking her not to run away, in the meanwhile.

But she couldn’t help but move through the shelves checking out the newest releases and choosing a few to read meanwhile she looked out to the glasses outside the shop to check on Trevor, but she quickly become too engrossed on an illustrated version of “Little Women” by Louisa May Alcott, one of her favorite books.

She related to Jo on a personal level, remembering her all about the possible dreams she had had about becoming a journalist and a novelist, when she still thought that there was hope in the world.

She was so interested in the re-reading that she didn’t realize that Trevor who hadn’t found her outside. had gone in the bookshop and was gently shaking her, trying not to scare her.

“Hey, found anything interesting?” he asked, eyeing the book and she pushed it closed, immediately rushing to push it back on its original shelf, but Trevor stopped her, collecting the book and moving towards the cash desk, extracting his wallet “… you want to get only this one…”.

Clothes were one thing: she needed them, mostly if Margaret wanted to parade her as her personal corgi.

But books… books were something that made her almost nervous to be gifted, it was a window on her soul she couldn’t accept, and couldn’t let Trevor stare into, but he hadn’t seemed to mind, instead pushing Margaret’s card to the clerk, smirking gently at him.

When they walked away, she was holding a few more packages, Trevor carrying the rest, almost as if they were some kind of happy couple, finally coming back home.

It had been a truly good day, one of the first since she had opened eyes, and she made sure to say so to Trevor: she might still think that he was hiding her something, but she definitely couldn’t help but feel a bit soft around him.

“Thank you, it was a nice day” she thanked him, taking the little bag of books in her hands to try to hide her secret from him, and he smirked, gently caressing her face, and strangely she leaned herself into that simple touch.

“Don’t mention it, I have to say you are the funny sister” he giggled, and she found herself blushing.

“… you are the first one who ever thought this”.

The night she and Trevor had decided to treat themselves to a nice dinner outside in an expensive restaurant, mostly for her to try out the newest outfit she had bought big shoulder-pads with sequins and a tiny waist, giving the perfect hourglass figure, in a very fashionable style.

She almost looked like when she hanged onto older men’s arms, who showed her as if she was  their newest Rolex.

She was almost expensive as one.

“… don’t you think that they will talk about this?” she asked, almost worried: she didn’t want her sister to kick her out because she was standing too close to her boytoy.

“Not if we leave the waiters a huge tip” he replied, making her smirk, meanwhile he helped her out of the car, gentlemanly giving her his arm to hold her close to him, meanwhile they strutted inside.

Dinner was nice, and she was used to this kind of elegant setting, falling back in her charming persona, after a good chalice of wine, which Trevor continued on pouring, insisting on the fact that it made her almost funny.

“… well it almost makes you handsome, so…”.

“Aren’t you supposed to be nice with family?” he retorted, meanwhile he played around with the food in his plate, almost as if he couldn’t focus on it, as she, instead, tried to cut perfectly what she had chosen, into tiny bites.

“Are you my family, Trevor Kirchner?” she replied, sending him a slight glance, under her eyes, almost teasing him.

“I married your sister, or did the wine already get to your head?” but his retort was stopped short, as her legs brushed against his, the silkiness of the stockings she wore against his elegant dress pants, making her laugh loudly at his stunned surprise “… yeah the wine got to your head”.

“Did Margaret tell you what I did before I come to you” she didn’t know if it was the wine talking or the fact that strangely she felt nice, almost comfortable with Trevor.

Alongside the fact that she wanted to fuck him desperately.

Before dinner she had spent a good hour igniting a soft fire in her most private parts, gently touching them and caressing her skin till she reached a lazy and aching orgasm, thinking about him doing it to her.

She couldn’t deny that no matter how much she tried she was attracted by him.

And without no inhibitions she just couldn’t stop her blabbering mouth.

“I got paid to sleep with men…” she linked their eyes together, and pushed her legs apart under the table “… but I had a type you see, I liked old men, older than boys, and they would pay me with nice things”.

“I didn’t know, (Y/N)” his voice was dark, definitely lower and aggressive, asking for more, almost desperately.

“… I liked it, I liked the attention, the gifts, the lavish lifestyle…” she continued, meanwhile she adjusted herself onto the chair, unable to sit straight “… but nobody fucking loved me, isn’t it such a horrible thing”.

“Sweetheart, you are…” Trevor seemed almost confused about what to do, she could feel that he was aroused, but also, he somehow had reigned himself back in control from the state he had gone in, after her confession, as if he pitied her.

“I don’t need your pity” she replied, harshly hissing through her teeth and quitting all her movements, instead reaching out for the wine glass, which Trevor took from her hands.

“I think it is enough” his tone was stern, and before she knew it, he was by her side, helping her up, although she protested, attracting quite the attention.

She seriously hoped the thing about tipping the waiters to keep them quiet was true.

He pushed her into the car, definitely with much more force than when he had helped her out, saying to the driver to rush them home and she immediately pushed herself away from him, almost burned from his sudden reaction.

“(Y/N)…” he tried to call her, but she kept on facing the window, looking out at the cold night, since it started raining and she pushed herself to look at the way the little droplets moved down the window of the car, letting it all lull you in a comfortable nap.

She was awoken by soft arms, pushing her into them, and when she opened her eyes, she found Trevor looking down at her, he seemed worried, but this time there was no pity, which made her wonder if there ever had been.

“… is your head hurting you?” he asked, treating her as if she hadn’t just confessed to him that she was a prostitute and that she had a thing for older men.

She shook her head, lightly pushing herself to bring him closer to her, tightening the grip onto his shoulder, finding comfort in that gentle contact and letting him lead her inside, cradling her closer to his chest and once they were inside he let her gently and softly down, holding her close, till he felt like she was steady again.

He then moved to leave her, but she tightened the grip onto his hand, bringing him back towards her and before she knew it her lips were onto his.

Her hand gently but steadily shifted onto his shirt, already opening the buttons she could slip an hand inside, meanwhile the other slung onto his neck, to bring him closer.

His hand shot up to her thin waist, caressing softly her hips, almost to gently reassure her to keep going.

A thunder shook them apart and realization shone in Trevor’s eyes and as she pushed him closer, he pushed her away.

“Babygirl, we can’t…” she didn’t even stay enough for him to finish.

It was always the same.

For the rest of the entire week she had avoided Trevor, as much as she could in a house in which they were all alone, except for the service maids, with whom she had developed some kind of strange friendship, to spite Trevor.

She spent most days off in her room reading and writing, mostly keeping a diary, but starting again with poetry, writing a few lines.

Even the silliest helped the confusion in her mind.

And they helped her mind going off the swift rejection she had received from Trevor still fresh and hurting.

She was low key glad when Margaret came back, although their first dinner was tense and she was more than happy to get away to the swimming pool, this time with a proper bikini, a red one, which fit her physique and as she dipped back in the water she finally felt like she was breathing freely, away from anything.

She emerged and found two brown eyes following her: Trevor.

She took her sweet time, with a few more laps, hoping he would be annoyed by the time she exited the pool, but suddenly she felt cold and to avoid getting a flu she immediately exited the pool, trying to avoid Trevor, but he quickly moved towards her.

“Can we talk, (Y/N)” he pleaded, but you simply covered yourself with your robe “… or are you going to continue to avoid me?”.

She turned around with violence, suddenly a frenzy anger taking over her.

“I am not the one who pushed away, firstly” she replied spitefully, pushing him away, with a shove of her shoulder, seeing his eyes brighten with surprise “…  I am not the one who refused, I am only doing what you asked me to”.

“Would you let me explain?” he screamed, almost as if he was tired of this argument.

Oh, she had just started.

She surprised him again, gently pushing herself closer to him, their faces so close that their lips brushed again and her hateful eyes became slightly honey, in a deer-eyed expression of purity and want for him, her legs pushed themselves between his pants, completely touching his screaming manhood, wetting it even.

“… I don’t want you to explain” she replied, her voice pointing out each word “… I just want you to fuck me”.

And as she had moved closer to him, she moved away, quickly grabbing the towel she had brought with her, and moving lightly her hips to a non-existent music.

And like this she ran away from him.

It was a week later, when Margaret was away on her trips, that Trevor did the first move, knocking on her door, meanwhile she was finishing her latest poem, which she hid quickly under her pillows, worried that it might be Margaret who had come home earlier.

But again, it was just Trevor.

She didn’t want to say that their relationship had changed, although they had been both civil with each other more for Margaret’s pleasure than because they had worked their issues.

Closer They were cold to each other, if Margaret wasn’t around.

Or better she would be as cold as ice with Trevor, although it didn’t stop her from teasing him, bending a little when she was stretching herself out in her red bikini or bringing her cleavage to be shown more through her new nightgown, a scrap of dark blue lace, much more provocative than her cotton ones.

And Trevor would just look at her as a kicked puppy.

“Caught you off guard, sweetie?” he asked with a poisonous edge to the “sweetie” part, which got her to huff, and adjust herself more comfortably onto her bed, showing off her legs.

“Stop using petnames” she mumbled instead, giving him zero attention, picking up the magazine the maid had left in her room “… it’s annoying”.

“… you just don’t look very like a (Y/N)” he replied, settling beside her and she still gave him no attention, but he grabbed her chin, raising it so their eyes would meet “… you look more like a little girl to me”.

“Ah ah, very funny” she mumbled drily, trying to get out of the grip, but it didn’t work, mostly because Trevor silenced her sarcasm, kissing her.

She immediately tried to rush the kiss, licking his upper lip, and opening her mouth, but Trevor seemed to like taking his time, gently brushing his lips against her own, at first against her upper lip, and then the lower one, before his lips separated themselves from hers.

But they stayed near her, wanting her to beg for more.

But after Kent, she didn’t beg anyone.

Her kiss was more aggressive, but she tried to keep it teasing, nibbling onto his upper lip, and pulling it between her teeth, releasing it with a pop, and pushing herself away.

“… what made you change your mind?” she asked, meanwhile Trevor moved closer to her, pushing himself onto her bed and cornering her gently against the wall “… aren’t you afraid of my sister finding out about us?”.

“As if I would ever give a fuck about that bitch” he replied, and sincerely showed up in his eyes, but if it wasn’t enough, he gently pushed an hand between her hair, bringing her close and gently kissing her cheek “… it’s just, things are going to be complicated with me”.

“I don’t give a fuck about all that, I just want a nice fuck” she retorted, her legs opening beneath him and bringing herself closer so that she could whisper in her ear “… can you do that?”.

Trevor just smirked and before she knew it she was laid onto the bed, with him gently pushing up her nightgown to reveal her baby blue underwear, matching with a lighter tone her nightgown.

“… you just have to say, please, sweetheart” he simply mumbled, meanwhile his voice was muffled by soft nibbling at her exposed thighs, brushing his moustache against it “… you have driven me crazy”.

Her fingers immediately tangled itself in the sheets underneath her, meanwhile she tried to buckle herself up to be more close to him, but Trevor quickly pushed her back, plunging his fingers into her hips, to keep her steady on the mattress against him.

But they shifted their position quickly: one finger started prodding over her panties, as if he was making sure that she was wet enough, as if he wanted to learn the ways of her body.

“… were you already this wet, before I came in the room?” he asked, his voice appearing closer to her head and as she opened her eyes, she found him staring at her as if he was worshipping a goddess, looking at her with intensity and decision, meanwhile his finger didn’t stop his attentive ministrations “… or was this because of me?”.

“Don’t flatter yourself too much, old man” she replied, refusing to surrender herself to him so easily and he simply smirked, before he laid a soft kiss onto her forehead, something that her previous lovers had never done and it low key…

… it low key made her feel almost cherished.

Trevor’s finger dipped under her panties, simply playing with the hair he found underneath there, them moving back to teasing her over her panties.

And then back in them.

And then back outside of them.

In a teasing torture that brought her to whine pathetically.

“Is this too much for you, sweetie?” he taunted her, but she didn’t give up, spreading even more her legs, and letting him do her bidding, meanwhile her head turned to face the pillow, her hair a total mess around her “… don’t you want some relief, pretty girl?”.

She did desperately and Trevor knew it, gently dragging her panties down thighs, something that surprised her extremely: he wasn’t treating her as fine china, with his constant teasing, but the soft little attentions he gave her, made her feel damnably alive.

Almost as if he cared about her.

As if it was more than just sex.

He finally gave up to her desire and pushed a finger inside her.

The intrusion, although not unwelcome, was slightly unpleasant, since it had been quite some time since she had last taken something inside of her, but she tried her best to avoid showing anything on her face.

But still Trevor caught on her discomfort, and stilled his movement, backing up a bit, so that he wouldn’t be overwhelming her.

“… is everything alright, little one? I didn’t hurt you, did I?” he asked, again… strangely caringly.

“No no….” she tried not to blush, like a virgin “… it’s just been a long time since I last have done this”.

She almost thought that Trevor would make fun of her, but he just grabbed her hand and softly brought it to his lips.

“We are going to take it slow, lovely… don’t worry” he calmed her down softly, treating her with the most kindness she had ever been reserved, and she was just able to nod speechless “… just give me a minute and I’ll make it all better”.

He then lowered himself till he was between her legs, and before she knew it, his lips were onto her clit, suckling it softly at first, wanting to get her used to sensation, although she was unable to stop a soft moan from leaving her mouth, and then with more force sucking the delicate pearl in his mouth, till he engulfed it completely.

And as he felt her shiver pleasantly under him, he started moving his fingers, wetness oozing onto it, and collecting in the little pathway between her ass and cunt, in a creamy liquid, that Trevor licked clean with a quick play of his tongue, once his finger exited her, collecting all her wetness.

And then he re-entered her again, pushing two fingers inside her, and although it was again so sudden, she adjusted more quickly, buckling up and down onto them and onto Trevor’s rough face, his moustache leaving traces onto her thighs and folds, and she could have sworn he was smirking proudly at her.

He moved his fingers inside of her, at first without too much force, and then scissoring them inside her to spread her more, since he, himself, felt the tightness of her walls, slowly crumbling apart due to his attentive ministration.

And when he curled his finger into her, she basically found herself losing herself completely to him and her fingers quickly grappled his wrist, pushing it to stay inside of her, and he just smirked at her, again kissing her forehead and holding her, meanwhile trembles went through her.

“Just let go, lovely, I am here for you” and she did, watching him in the eyes, meanwhile he brought her over the edge with his mouth a breath away from her womanhood, and his fingers in her, letting her ride the orgasm till she had enough.

Sensitive and shaking she pushed him slightly away and Trevor quickly understood her need, and moved away a bit, but he kept watching her, analyzing whether she wanted his help or not.

But as soon as her orgasm finished, and pleasure didn’t obscure her brain anymore, she moved closer to him, searching lazily his lips, mostly to distract him from the hand that went into his pants pushing itself onto his belt, wanting to unlatch it.

But he stopped her.

“What do you want to do, babygirl?” he asked, almost surprised as if he didn’t understand what you had in mind “… you don’t have to”.

“Well the fact is… “ she unlatched her belt, and then pushed it away, lowering his pants, without a single look at anything, finding herself with a very evident bulge in her face, barely contained in his red boxers “… I want to”.

And then her hand came onto his dick, teasing him over his pants as he had done with her, feeling him whine pathetically against her, who simply smirked, meanwhile she continued her teasing, slipping him outside of the boxers just as he started begging her, a constant plead of mercy, that made her feel strong and in power.

And in control.

She smirked as she lowered onto his dick, a majestic one, definitely the biggest she had ever had and the thought of trying to envelop it all, made her nervous, but she didn’t waste time, at first teasing him with kittenish lick, and then gently plopping her lips around the tip, gently teasing it, meanwhile Trevor shifted forward, his hand going up to her hair, but immediately he retreated them, almost scared.

She pushed his cock out of her mouth, with a slick “pop”, gently letting him tangle his fingers in her hair.

“You don’t have to be gentle” she mumbled, meanwhile he softly huffed slightly annoyed “… I am a big girl, I can take it”.

“Can you” he retorted back, but was shut up as she gripped him tighter in her hand, literally holding him by his dick, before she ended again enveloping him, pushing herself even more through her limits and swallowing more, till it hit the back of her throat and she had to grip the ground, trying to calm herself and relax.

In the meanwhile, Trevor had pushed his hands in her hair again, but putting it softly, mostly pushing it away from her mouth and face, in a soft ponytail, loose enough not to hurt her, but steady enough that he helped her taking the rhythm, till she found one on her own, comfortable enough that the sensation almost soothed her.

And so did to Trevor, and she had to remind him, gently bruising her teeth against his cock, making him startle, meanwhile her eyes sparkled maliciously.

“Beauty, let me come” he mumbled, because she had kept him on the edge quite a bit, with a gentle stimulation, but she knew he had had enough and she moved herself to do that trick with her tongue, pushing her tongue under the underside of his dick, probing it till she found the right spot and a salty taste invaded her mouth.

It was so sudden that she had to retreat quickly and some of his seed stained her nightgown and her mouth, which she quickly tried to clean up with the back of her hand, but Trevor was quickly and cleaned up with a little tissue, attentively not to leave any stains.

She couldn’t help but feel a bit like a child.

Then Trevor pushed himself gently against her, kissing her forehead, before he gently pushed himself even closer to her, raising her nightgown, and although some alarms went off in her, she let him take her nightgown off, her body not tampered anymore by any livid.

He kissed her tasting himself deeply, his taste still lingering in his mind, and he then pushed his hand to gentle caress her pebbling nipple and her swollen breasts.

“… you made me feel so good, babe” he mumbled softly, nosing her neck and then whispering in her ear, meanwhile he shifted her in his laps, and there everything went off.

She pushed him off, sweat dripping down her back meanwhile Trevor collided with the ground, achingly moaning out of pain and she swiftly moved off the bed to check up on him.

“Shit, babe, I would have preferred you just said stop” he mumbled as she helped him up.

“I am so so sorry, Trevor” she tried to apologize, helping him back onto his feet “I swear I don’t know what overcame me”.

“Sweetheart, don’t worry” he sighed gently, trying to push her a bit closer, checking with her whether she felt like being held or not “… I just hope that I wasn’t the one who hurt you”.

“No no you didn’t” she mumbled , meanwhile she gently adjusted herself, allowing him to bring her onto his laps, as she decked herself up in an elegant robe in order to shelter her modesty, meanwhile Trevor gently held her in his arms “… you don’t know you why I am here, do you?”.

“Just that you were in hospital, before” he replied innocently, but suddenly his face became more worried, and she honestly felt like he was caring desperately for her, and that this would hurt double if not triple when she final realized it was all so fake.

“… I was put in the hospital, actually” she corrected him and found a sudden anger being harbored in his eyes, but she kept herself from thinking about it “… a year ago, I decided to quit the escort life, because I thought I had found someone who would love me, Kent… but, oh boy was I wrong”-

Trevor didn’t even smirk at her poor attempt to humor, but brought her close, since she had started slowly trembling.

“Little one, you don’t have to continue…” he tried to calm her, but she just smirked sadly at him.

“… no no I want to” she replied, gently hugging herself “…I ditched my life to live with Kent, he said he loved me, and I actually did love him, but… then he started being more violent”.

“At first, he was just possessive, which wasn’t so bad to me, didn’t it mean that he cared for me?”.

“He had never been truly violent, he would grip me tighter and have me have sex with me, although I wasn’t in the mood, but… I owed it to him, he took care of me and I never gave him anything, back”.

“Sweetie, you don’t owe people anything, nor sex, nor your body, nor your time” stopped her discourse Trevor, moving her to look at him in the eyes “… do you understand me?”

He waited for her to nod, before he let her continue.

“On my 21st birthday, he thought I had flirted with this dude, I actually didn’t, I was just being gentle with him, but for him… I was cheating in front of his eyes, making fun of him in front of all his friends, and this wouldn’t just do” she couldn’t help but move back at that night: the way her dress had shifted meanwhile she had tried to move around the room to avoid being hit by the objects thrown to her by Kent “… he slapped me, and I started crying, telling him I wanted out, he didn’t love me anymore…”.

“… he just smirked back at me and told me that he had never loved a fucking shit about me, ‘I was just a fucking good fuck’ and he then proceeded to undress me, to…” her voice broke and she felt Trevor trembling around her, rage coursing through him, but it was in no way directed to her, whom he continued to caress softly, as if petting a scared bird “… he couldn’t, he had drunk too much and I was able to fight him off, but just when I was trying to get my back, he got me from behind, and he started choking me”.

“He almost smashed my head against the wall” her body was suddenly shaken by sobs and Trevor cooed her softly “… I thought I was going to die, but then I heard the ambulance, the guests had been alerted by the screams and they had called the police…”.

Margaret had been alerted by the hospital and she had woken up to her sister’s blonde halo and this constant pain in her head.

The migraine a long-lost sign of anything she had gone through and survived.

She gently leaned onto Trevor’s naked chest, there listening to his soft heartbeat, meanwhile she was lulled to sleep, by that and the soft caress he kept donning to her head.

Truly sleeping peacefully.

The following day, she woke up before Trevor, and although she didn’t regret what had happened the previous night and she didn’t have to worry about Margaret catching them.

Still she didn’t want the maid to worry about the entire thing, since she might end up referring everything to her sister.

That wouldn’t just do.

She had breakfast alone, although she found herself pleasantly enjoying the soft pain between her legs, and the pleasurable ache that went through her as she shifted, taking her time, to choose what she wanted to have, peeling the apple she had chosen and gently waiting for her tea to cool down.

Every attempt to keep her body calm was brought down by a soft hand gently touching her shoulder, not wanting to startle her, showing a smirking Trevor, dressed in that horridly ridiculous pink robe which made her raise her eyebrows, annoyed.

“…started without me, lovely?” his voice dripped with a sexual undertone, she didn’t give too much thought, sending him an annoyed smirk, before he brought her lips to meet his, in a soft “goodmorning kiss” that made her ache for more, wanting to throw away everything that was in the table and let him lay her down on it…

Alongside that she couldn’t just discard the feeling of warmth in her chest.

She had had anything she had wanted and some more…

… it was that “more” that worried her.

“We have to be careful, Trevor” she had to remind him, once their lips parted, but he kept them close to his “… the maids and personal staff might see”.

He giggled, softly setting beside her, his hand gently setting onto her thigh, barely exposed by the new nightgown she had changed in that morning: a beautiful light pink silky thing that complimented her complexion.

“C’mon, babe, I know all the timetables of the people working here, and I know that we could have a quickie on this table and still have some time for something more” she blushed at his bold mention, pushing him lightly away with her shoulder “… you are so cute when you blush”.

She tried not to blush even more, but she didn’t think it as physical possible, mostly when Trevor Kirchner looked at her as if he wanted nothing else but you.

Although he knew how broken she was.

“… and about last night” could he read in other people’s mind “… I’ll fucking kill this Kent, if you want to”.

A strange source of power went through her body and her center started aching for attention again.

The previous night, she had been scared with him, and right now she wanted just to be bend over and given some relief: how the hell did her body work?

Her mind was too far gone that rabbit hole.

“… and you don’t have any fault, sweetie, in case your pretty mind tells you it does, it wasn’t your fault, and I am sorry that you had to undergo everything, most importantly alone, you are not alone anymore”.

“You think that a hook-up means that much for me?” she didn’t want to sound so harsh, but there was no way in hell that they would end up living happily ever after together.

First of all, she was a mess.

Secondly, he was married to her sister.

“I just know that I am glad that we had that talk and that I really like you, (Y/N)”.

Again, with the blushing: she was used to hearing man say that they loved her, but it was never “her”, truly.

It was her body, her cunt, her legs…

Instead Trevor truly meant her.

“Let’s just make no expectation on the other” she simply mumbled, and Trevor nodded, brushing his hand against her thigh, before slowly raising up and finding her wet and aching for him.

“We are going to take things slow” he traced lazy and slow patterns, onto your barely covered core “… take all the time you need”.

And with this he was off: up and running for the swimming pool.

“I think that such a nice day should be celebrated” he mumbled, meanwhile he ran discarding all his clothes around, and she followed him smirking silly.

Meanwhile he jumped in the water, she quickly pushed herself onto the board of it, before she discarded her nightgown, as bare as him.

Offering him a chance to turn away.

He didn’t, he softly grabbed her by the waist and brought her in the water, much to her protests.

But she was happy for once.

---

Lately my fics have done extremely shittily so if you end up coming across this, and feel like it... PLEASE LEAVE AN HEART, A REBLOG, OR A COMMENT... I would truly apprecciate it!

@lovelylangdonx​ @blakewaterxx​ @ bonnieangelface @bish-ima-clown​ @ vrezra

[xhannahbananax03]

Teaser - AHS 1984

Words: 275

Chapter Warnings: Flirtatious behavior ;)

MASTERLIST

“This is the end,” 

“Yeah!” The aerobics instructor at the front of the room shouted excitedly as he swiveled and rolled his hips, the rest of the room mimicking his movements.

“I thought I was in,”

Her eyes scanned across the room taking in the sweaty bodies of several other men and women, “Hip thrust!” He grunted, his purple shorts clinging to his hips as he bit into his bottom lip.

“You put me down and say I’m going nowhere.”

“Left, left!” He instructed the class as everyone began to thrust their hips to the left.

Her wide eyes flickered to her right as everyone once again rotated their hips while hitting their hip bones to get the blood moving. She admired one mans backside as his crop top rose to expose the tight fabric of his shorts clinging to his perfectly round ass.

A small smirk took over her lips as the class got down onto all fours, doing arches and leg lifts, “It hard but its worth it!” The instructor encouraged everyone while panting.

“Back in the race,”

Lifting her hips into the air, she looked over at the deliciously tan boy, he caught her eye and smirked wide, sliding his hands over his chest to raise his crop top up, “Yes! Two more!” the voice of their instructor pulled her gaze away from his as she focused on the task at hand once again.

A blonde girl on the other side of the boy that just made googly eyes at (y/n), grinned widely before tossing her head back and rolled onto her side to face the instructor that she so desperately wanted to be.

“I want it more than anything I’ve wanted!”

[immethod]

hello!! i’m robin! i have been wanting to write fanfics/reader inserts for AHS for a while so here i am!

i am currently taking requests so please don’t hesitate to send me some of your ideas!

this is going to be an AHS centric blog for the time being, and there will be NSFW content so please be aware that it is 18+!!!

here are some characters i will write!!

murder house:

tate langdon

violet harmon

asylum:

kit walker

lana winters

mary eunice

coven:

kyle spencer

zoe benson

cordelia goode

madison montgomery

freak show:

jimmy darling

dandy mott

hotel:

james patrick march

sally mckenna

the countess

john lowe

cult:

kai anderson

winter anderson

apocalypse:

michael langdon

(all other coven/murder house characters can apply here, too.)

1984:

xavier plympton

chet clancy

montana duke

ray powell

brooke thompson

trevor kirchner

like i said, i am willing to write smut, i actually enjoy it so please don’t be afraid to request it. there are things that i won’t write about, so please just ask and i’ll let you know!!

[hecohansen31]

KINKTOBER (15: Mutual Masturbation)

Trevor Kirschner+Fem! Reader:

SUMMARY; You and Trevor still haven’t reached the "final base”, but you can still have fun together... can’t you?

WARNINGS: Mututal Masturbation (Male and Female), Daddy Kink, Younger Female In A Relationship With An Older Man.

Your relationship with Trevor was… unconventional… to say the least.

First of all, you were much younger than him: you still remembered the first time you had visited his house and most importantly met his roommates and both Chet and Ray had asked you if you were even legal, meanwhile Xavier had literally murdered Trevor with his eyes.

Second of all, unlike him you were much shy and sweet, the type of girl who had focused her life to get one thing and one thing only.

Which was a nice job and some kind of peace and tranquility.

Third and final, you were a virgin, and with Trevor’s “special talent” you weren’t exactly in the best condition, which prompted you two to push away the “sexy times” for a bit, meanwhile he helped you be comfortable in that sense around him

But this didn’t mean that you hadn’t tried “other things” such as in that moment, when your fingers were pushed in yourself, and Trevor was across from you, his hand onto his impressive manhood.

“Spread your legs, sweetheart, let me see” he ordered softly and gently you did, pushing yourself to sit more upright onto the giant king size bed in his room, although your cheeks flushed read and you tried to hide your face, turning it away from him.

Trevor knew exactly how long it had taken for you to be this comfortable and “open” with him and he tried to challenge you in each of your “little sessions”, although he didn’t try to push over your limits, cooing you softly and praising you with compliments.

“… look at your little folds, so puffy and red…” he smirked, and he moved his hand away from himself, gently crawling closer to you, who yelped ungracefully surprised by his nearness and ashamed of the looseness of your body “… and definitely wet”.

His fingers had joined yours, gently brushing against your untouched clit and there he had gently collected some the wetness which shone bright against your most sacred areas, bringing it into his mouth.

And meanwhile you did this, although you felt extremely embarrassed by the entire thing you were completely unable to look away, and watched as Trevor tasted you, moaning at your sweetness.

“You taste fucking better than cake, my little one” he praised you and this time you did hide, moving closer to him, in the crook of his neck, moving yourself closer and releasing your finger from your hot and wet heat.

“Want daddy to take care of you, sweetheart?” he mumbled and gently pushed his fingers to replace yours, at first just teasingly tracing your folds and then pushing his own thick finger between them, entering you and making you take a sharp breath.

He giggled at your surprised expression and gently kissed your lips, pushing a few kisses on your, pecking her lips.

Then he started thrusting into you, and as soon as he found that different patch, he curled his fingers into you making your mouth turn into an “o” shape.

“… look at you, all pretty and with your mouth wide open” he moved from kissing your lips to your neck, marking the territory with little love bites, making you tangle an hand into his hair, meanwhile the others pushed itself onto his thigh, grabbing onto it to calm yourself down and anchor yourself.

And then you had an idea, gently moving your hand from his thigh onto his throbbing and ignored member, your hand feeling the strength and harshness of it, alongside the silky feeling of his manhood.

This time he was the one who was taken aback, and left her neck to face her, an incredulous look, became a malicious one, and soon his fingers started thrusting faster.

“Want to make me feel good, beautiful?” he teased you, and brought a hand softly to your neck, meanwhile his fingers pushed themselves deeper and deeper in you “… my good girl, only mine”.

You throwed your head back and rode yourself onto his finger, meanwhile your hands went up and down onto his length feeling him twitch and soon your hands were smeared with pre-cum, which helped your movements, making Trevor moan softly and you smirked rebelliously at him.

“… am I making you feeling good, daddy?” you teased him, slowing your strokes and then picking them up, trying to focus on your grip, but Trevor hadn’t lessened in the slightest his ministrations, pushing you to the limit of the edge.

“You are my heaven, babygirl” his moustache brushed against your nose, as he leaned down for a deep kiss “… come and be a good girl for me, sweetheart”.

And unable to stop yourself from following his order you came onto his fingers, soaking them embarrassingly, but a few minutes later he came thickly onto your hand.

As he retreated his hand from your sensitive womanhood, with a whimper of yours, he saved the honey liquid, quickly enveloping his dirty fingers into his mouth, as he had done before and again you were unable to do much more than stare at him.

At his tongue and the way, it promised to move between your legs, fresh hot liquid coming from your deepest intimate core.

And you mirrored him, licking the palm of your hand, and moaning lightly at the soft salty taste of him, and smirked gently at him, meanwhile he simply snickered.

“We are going to have a lot of fun, together, little girl”.

---

If you want to be added to the tag-list let me know!

And if you have anymore asks for Trevor, just send them over (I am not in the right headset to write about it, but at the same time, if you have some I’ll write them as soon as I get back on my feet!).

As always: your feedback means the world to me, mostly WORDS: let me know your opinions, and I’ll be the most happy for you; any feedback is extremely useful to us writers, never forget that!

Much love!

@emmyrosee @blakewaterxx @lovelylangdonx @1-800-bitchcraft @rocketgirl2410 @ladynuwanda @rosegoldrichie @lathraios @frenchbread4ever @bish-ima-clown @eternalnostalgia  @raindeadbarbie @whitetigerlover17 @harmcn @lilwolfgirl86  @photography-ygs @bvbfob @courtcourt2607 @born-of-the-sea @pearlsofperyl @ali-1864 @trilogyss  @otps-4-life @christine-daae-songbird

[hecohansen31]

Fire Of My Loins (Teaser)

Trevor KIrchner+Younger Margaret’s Sister! Reader:

(A/N): Hello, lovelies!

Before you extract your knives to fight me... just know that I am working on “More Than You Bargained For” (2), which will be named “More Than You Can Give Me” (these shits are getting longer than Fall Out Boy’s titles).

But while I was working on it, I ended up not being truly able to focus on it (I still can’t), and this fic low key helped me a bit!

It is very different from my usual writing, so I am just going to tag the people who want to be tagged, so that I don’t get a shitstorm!

Just like this post to be tagged and the fic will be out on Sunday!

I STILL HATE TREVOR WITH ALL MY GUTS (and haven’t seen 9x07, when I wrote this) but hey... he low key inspired me to write this, so I honestly couldn’t help but write this down, and I hope it won’t be too much!

WARNINGS: Older! Man+Younger! Girl (Trevor according to me is either 36-40, meanwhile Reader is 22), Mention of Child Neglect and Domestic Abuse (alongside attempts of Sexual Assault), General Violence and Use of Drugs, Daddy Issues, Seducing an Older! Man, Mention of Reader’s past as a sex worker, Fingering and Oral Sex (Male-Female Receiving), PTSD, Nudity.Vulgarities.

She had been able to take a quick shower, at least her room had a bath linked to it, since it seemed to be the smallest one, something that she honestly didn’t like, but she knew better than to ask her sister for more, mostly after the little “discourse” they had had.

She honestly needed to get a grip on her life, in order for her to move away as soon as she could.

She had worked through her teen years before her “career” took over, but she hadn’t been able to attend college, since not only it made her anxious and nervous, but also, she was addicted to those men’s attention and when she “fell” for them, she devoted herself to them.

What a shitty life, had she chosen?

She was brushing her hair to dry them, simply dressed in a cotton nightgown she had found on her bed, definitely more modest than the ones she had owned, but the color gave her some kind of innocent allure.

When she moved to drop the towel in the bathroom, she found the door opening, without knocking.

She immediately turned around, as a deer in the headlights, scared that it might have been Margaret, and annoyed by the thought that somebody wouldn’t respect her privacy.

But it wasn’t Margaret.

It was a man.

Even worse.

Her heart started beating roughly and she found herself holding her hand out towards the handle of the door of the bathroom thinking that if she rushed she might hide behind it, but the man, almost as if sensing her nervousness immediately, raised his hands, trying to show that he wasn’t a threat.

“You must be (Y/N)” he commented, his tone was nice and sweet, clearly trying to calm down “… Margaret’s sister”.

“You surprised me” she simply mumbled, not knowing who this stranger was and keeping her hand onto the handle onto the bathroom door.

“I should have knocked” he muttered, clearly seeing her trembling “… I am Trevor Kirchner, Margaret’s husband”.

Margaret had never mentioned a second husband, in her visits.

So, she was a bit suspicious, but with the way he moved and acted he seemed not to want to scare her, and she relaxed a bit.

“… Margaret never talked about you” she simply uttered, and pushed herself to sit onto the bed, moving towards the little bottle of lotion she had managed to sneak away from Kent’s house, the smell of honey and roses intoxicating and comforting for her.

She tried to act nonchalantly, calming softly her nerves with the usual gestures, and immediately Trevor’s gaze shifted onto her legs, where she was smearing the lotion, and this didn’t go unnoticed from her, who took this time to analyze him better.

He was certainly charming, although some of his charm seemed ruined, shadowed by life and with the way his arms and legs moved spasmodically she knew it was drugs, and she couldn’t help but pout a little.

She would have gladly fucked him, before Kent.

Maybe just to spite Margaret.

“… she never talked about you either, till a week ago” he replied sassily, moving his eyes way from your shiny legs, as you pushed your arms up, as with them slightly your breast showcasing them more, in an act of subtle seduction that got Trevor quite engrossed, although he tried not show it “… just wanted to meet you and say that you are welcome to stay as long as you like”.

“I am staying here till I get a grip on my life” she stated, but Trevor just smirked at you, as if he didn’t believe you, as if he had said something like that to himself “… can you leave me alone? I prefer to do my beauty routine all alone, without creepy men staring at me”.

[xhannahbananax03]

AHS 1984 Rewrite

I’m thinking of doing a rewrite of American Horror Story 1984, which was my absolute favorite season because I am 60′s-80′s obsessed. 

Would anyone read it if I wrote it? So far I have no definite pairing, I’m not even sure I’ll put in a pairing or make a singular pairing but, as of now, I’m leaning towards a Reader x Xavier. 

I’m probably going to write it whether people would read it or not because I just cannot get this season out of my head! 

Anyways, let me know what y’all think!