♡

NOW GO

im going im going!! Im on a bit of a spit kick..me thinks. I think this came out really well, you say slut? I deliver.

warnings: spit and lots of it, drooling, kissing, car make outs. idk man standard mari appropriate grossness.

kissing dennis before you both go up to your shared apartment. right after pulling into the nearly empty parking garage. it was innocent really you just wanted to feel the comforting weight of his mouth on yours. leaning over the scuffed center console to press a quick kiss to his soft pink lips.

“one more?” he requests looking at you, fluttering his lashes and puckering up his lips in question, with a hopeful glint shimmering in his eye. you smile lopsidedly at the cute display, leaning back in to plant another soft one on him.

the second you come back from it he’s already asking for more.

“another?” this time you unbuckle your seatbelt and scoot closer in the passenger seat. resting your elbow on the console to give him a kiss once more, holding it longer than before but not long enough to be salacious. as you go to move back though, he lightly grasps the neckline of your jacket. gripping the soft material before your lips can even fully leave his. fingers flexing down onto the fabric like it’s reflex, not forcing just asking you to stay.

with his lips skimming over yours he looks into your eyes, gaze full of need, holding a deep want that threads through his irises. eyes moving from yours to your mouth every few seconds. unable to focus on either for too long before he’s looking at the other.

“kiss me..again, please”

it’s breathy, desperate even, ghosting over your mouth in a small puff of warmth. wetting his lips he keeps his eyes locked on yours. his plead is granted, adjusting yourself, fingers splaying over the radio to your right. you move closer, lips slotting to his perfectly, they’re slick from his tongue but you don’t mind, you fight the urge to lick it into your mouth.

the minute you settle into it, he whines, lacing his fingers into the fabric of your zip up a little harder. tugging you into him with more force. moving against you with fervor each dip of your head causes him to release a moan. the disconnecting and reconnecting spreading heat from him to you transferring it with ever kiss. every time you or he himself pull away he’s bringing you closer chasing your lips with a groan. you feel it, the wetness from his mouth spreading into yours, the warmth dripping from the seams of your mouths. running down your chin.

his tongue darts out licking over the spit from your lips and taking it back into his. it makes him shudder, the raw heady taste of you on his soft palate. he suppresses a whimper.

coaxing you to open up for him, he tilts his head, pressing closer. the line of your mouth splits but not wide enough, not as much as he needs it to be.

so he moves his hand from your collar to skim up over your cheek. grazing the skin there with his thumb tenderly before he’s digging it into the side of your chin. squeezing your jaw open.

“open—open up for me baby.”

it’s barely audible under the wet noises between the two of you. almost a whisper, muffled as he pushes the words into your waiting mouth along with his tongue.

it’s almost slimy, the warm salvia covering it viscous immediately running from him to you. and you accept it gratefully jaw falling open while he has his way with you. nipping at your bottom lip, tugging it with his teeth until you wince. all the while panting letting little whimpers out into the quiet atmosphere of the car.

his free hand joins the other on your face. pulling you forward by your cheeks until you’re almost bent over the console— that’s doing nothing but getting in the way. it’s wet, all of it is. his mouth, yours, your panties. the way he’s basically feeding his spit to you messily. at one point his hand even dances over your neck, to feel the muscles contract while you swallow down what he gives you.

it’s a mess of desperation and saliva. with your mouth now cracked open he’s free to suck your tongue into his mouth. engulfing your mouth with his, spit slicked lips encasing the tip of the muscle pulling it deeper.

you break away every so often, just to see the webs of saliva branch between the two of you. the feverish kiss even creating bubbles of the liquid as you both gasp and moan pathetically into each other.

“y’taste so good, my god.” he rasps.

drool slips freely down the sides of each respective mouth. and you wouldn’t have it any other way. dennis feels it drip down onto his wrist soaking the material of his sleeve but he could care less. a thin trail making its way down his chin and seeping down his neck. the sloppy nature of it all doing wonders for him, arousal burning under his skin and he needs more. more of you, more of the mess. pulling sway for only a moment to speak.

“shit— c’mere, climb across.”

then immediately dividing back in to capture your lips once more. listening you quickly clamber up over the seats and awkwardly fall into his lap narrowly avoiding hitting your head on the ceiling. his hands never leaving your cheeks, ass resting directly over his bulge, you grind down on him. eliciting a conjoined moan from the both of you.

he finally pulls away, face flushed in the low light overhead. head resting on the seats behind him, a picture of erotism painted across his features. eyes lidded, blinks slow, chin and cheeks smeared with a mixture of your spit and his glisten. chest heaving as he lays his head against his shoulder, blue eyes rolling over you.

licking his lips one of his hands come down gripping your hips to slide you closer. fingers breaching the line of your jacket going under to thumb at your skin. your hands flatten on his chest feeling the erratic pump of his heart beneath his ribcage.

saying nothing the other one reaches behind you to cut the power of the car. the lights going out the moment the key is turned, the low comforting hum of engine now dead. the space encased in an inky darkness. his once visible form now completely obscured in the night. even with your eyes wide open you see nothing, the only sound being the greedy intake of air you both take.

you feel him move closer, adjusting in his seat, arms wrapping around your body to pull you flush to him. noses brushing in the dark, it makes you shiver, every sense heightened as if an blindfold had been placed over your eyes.

suddenly his tongue comes out to lick over your closed lips. his hand moving from your back, over your breast and to the zipper of your hoodie. his words wisp over your now slick ones.

“I don’t think I’ll make it up to the apartment, sorry.”

... ᭝ ᨳଓ ՟ SPOILED ROTTEN﹕pc !grant reilly ⅋fem reader ᵋ 💭 grant isn’t acting himself after seeing u w ur bf.. ᵌ

suggestive filth. ❥ age gappie. ’s a longer one, i got carried away in these two.. sweet nicknames. slight perverted !grant. he’s unashamedly down bad for u. ❥ whiny !grant. ❥ doesn’t care he’s older.. he likes it. nd so do you ૮ ․ ․ ྀིა

grant tossed the spatula onto the marble island, wiping his hands on his waist apron, sporting a narrow brow and stern cheekbones. your own face morphed into a frown upon taking him in. “well i don’t know if you’ve seen beauty and the beast.. but those things have feelings,” you joked, setting your shopping bags down on the counter.

grant scoffed under his breath, “course i have.. movie’s older than you.” he eyed the bags, pushing down his overwhelming want for you to open each one and hold up what you got from the boutiques. and that’s exactly what you went to do after responding, “oh, i thought it recently came out..? well, do you wanna see what i gott,” you dragged the letter out, all giddy, thinking the answer would be yes.

because it always is. this was your guys’ thing. you and the private chef your dad hired became close quickly after only a couple of weeks. funnily enough, you bonded over how different you are. opposite interests. lack of knowledge on what the other knew everything about. he started to become your favorite person. and you had no clue of the pedestal grant had you on. even just as his boss’ daughter, you had so much power over him.

and he sometimes showed it when you two interacted. he’d do anything for you. cook anything at any time, no matter how silly of a request. watched on intently as you showed him your recent purchases. focused diligently when you pattered up to him, holding up two tops, asking which you should wear out. whatever you want, grant wants to be the one to give it.

but you’d never give him what he truly wants deep down. the role he’d be honored to take over that currently belonged to a pompous know it all college boy. you two were dating when grant was hired, but he doesn’t think you’ve been together too long. not long enough to defuse you from being swayed..

his head caught up with your last words, shaking himself from his thoughts and your youthful response, “not the live action, pie.. i’m a little busy with this meal for your father’s meeting, were you going to show me those? because i don’t have the time.”

you didn’t recognize the tone. the straightforwardness. the pie instead of your usual sweetie pie pet name. your hands drooped from the handles of the first bag, tilting your head at him, “really? you’re never usually too busy for me..”

grant shook his head, turning to check on the boiling sauce, fiddling at it with a flimsy spatula. “people get really busy sometimes.. just like you were this morning. all in that guys’ face, couldn’t hear me ask what you wanted for breakfast..” grant let himself grumble out, placing the lid back onto the pan.

your lips twisted to the side on a pout, furrowing your brows to remember what he was referring to. “oh..! him? i wasn’t.. that close to him, we were just..”

grant stopped you short, needing to get his thoughts out before he lost the composure to, “close enough you couldn’t pay attention to the guy just trying to feed you. did he at least get you something to eat when you two left? or did he, but made you pay for the meal just like he let you buy those clothes on your own?”

your pout deepened, getting close to the island to rest your folded arms onto it, leaning in as grant turned back to you after checking on a few other pots and pans, crossing his own arms.

“did you pee in your own cereal this morning? i have the money, he doesn’t have to pay.. why’re you asking these questions? did my dad annoy you or something, because you don’t really have to take it out on me, i can just go to my room and leave you alone..”

“it doesn’t matter if you have it. ’s about being a gentleman,” grant scolded, scratching at the curls at the nape of his neck, sniffing.

you approached the question hesitantly, “..are you.. talking bad about him right now? grant, this isn’t like you..”

“you were my sweet girl first,” he dropped his arms to his sides, letting himself knuckle grip the counter behind him, pushing his body out a bit.

you stilled, eyes turning sad. heart turning sad. “i still am.. nothing changed? was it.. the breakfast thing? i’m sorry i didn’t answer you, i didn’t know..”

“you usually sit with me while you’re eating your breakfast and tell me your plans for the day. i had no clue what you were out there doing, i damn near almost asked your dad but remembered that’s considered inappropriate.”

you slid around the island, coming to stand in front of him. he could barely hold eye contact. looked a little.. flustered. nervous. you’d never see him like this before.. you rested a hand on his flexed bicep, wide eyes staring up at him, “i’m sorry, grant. i honestly would’ve thought you find that all annoying.. chatting your ear off while you’re trying to work,” you let out a soft giggle.

grant shook his head once, eyes focused on your manicured hand that rested so small on his bigger arm, “never. i like hearing all about it. wanna be that person you go to.. just wanna take care of you. be the man that does that for you.”

you let your other hand rise to his opposite arm, gently gripping at the muscles, tiny smile dotting your face, “really? you are that man for me, grant.. you always cook me yummy meals..”

he was shaking his head before you finished, “not just like that. i’ll cook whatever you want, but i’d love more than that.. if you.. sat on my lap while you relayed your plans to me. let me fiddle with the little bow straps on your mini skirt while you talk.. and i promise i’d wash my hands before, i don’t wanna dirty your pretty clothes..”

your breath hitched as you ran your hands further up his arms, resting them on his neck. “yeah? you like my skirts?” you asked softly so as to not startle him. this grown man. who seemed so nervous to tell you his feelings. you. the college girl with the loaded dad who doesn’t have time to cook for himself. too busy making the money you spend everyday.

“mhm.. like ’em on you. make you look so sweet, sugar. ever since your old man hired me, i couldn’t stop thinking about his precious little girl. with the cutest personality ’nd motor mouth telling me about her favorite things..”

you gasped with no sound, nudging him on the arm, “you said you liked that..!”

grant chuckled, nodding, “i do, i do.. i like you. am i.. is this too much..? i jus.. you bring out this caretaker side of me. suppose ’s why i got into personal cheffing. wanna take care of someone.. and then you came along, sweet one. gave this old man the urge to serve a pretty young thing..”

your raised eyebrow asked the nonverbal question. grant slowly shook his head, “’m not talking about the food. i wanna help you into your little shirts.. gives me an excuse to touch you.. learn your pretty parts. which ones are achy, which ones you need me to soothe.. i think i’m desperate for it.”

your tummy fluttered at his provocative words. you truly didn’t notice..

your fingers found their way to the spot of hair grant was scratching at earlier, running your fingers through it. “that’s so sweet.. sorry, is it okay i’m touching you?”

“yes,” his response was breathy like he was holding his breath, waiting for permission to say something about it.

he rested his hands on your hips, tugging you softly into him, roaming his fingers to the little straps of your skirt. his face scrunched into a look of frustration, “that.. that boyfriend of yours.. i don’t get it. ’m older. i know more. i cook for you, listen to you, not him. i have more experience. does he touch you like this?” grant leaned down to your mouth, his little needy puffs of breath touching your lips, “you have to say something before i keep going, sweetie pie. i can’t be professional grant right now. not with you.”

you nodded softly, pouting up at him. he was mush in your hands. willingly. and you weren’t expecting it. sure, you found the older man attractive. had thoughts.. but you didn’t expect this. didn’t expect to like hearing him talk about you this much..

“keep going,” you encouraged on a whisper, staring into his puppy eyes. gosh, he was gone for you..

his eyes turned stern, eyebrows flexing, body tensing with want. “i like that i’m a father figure to you. that i’m old enough to actually be.. but dads can’t think the way i do.. i dream about fucking you over the island. going slow, gentle with you. because my sweet girl deserves nothing but gentle. i think about us sneaking into your room and letting you do whatever you want with me.. show me what you need. getting to my knees and seeing if you taste just as sweet as i imagine. making you leave the skirt on.. only the skirt while you ride me. take from me all you want. i was yours before i shook your dad’s hand to seal the deal.”

your fingers stilled, your head all buzzy. you didn’t know grant was so.. dirty mouthed. this clean, pristine chef.. getting all dirty with you. you wanted.. you wanted that. badly. you didn’t know how much you’ve been craving that. that grant was right here..

you teetered on your feet, thighs rubbing, “grant, what if one of my.. parts are achy right now? what do i do?” you panicked. your boyfriend never made you feel like this. grant was right. all you needed was your father figure..

his eyes softened, one hand sliding to the front of your skirt, only skidding along the outskirts. “is it here? you have to tell me, peach.”

you nodded on a stutter, eyes suddenly scared and welling, “my dad’ll be back soon with his business men.. we can’t..”

“sweetheart, i’d fuck this ache out of you in front of your dad right before he fired me if it was the only chance i had with you.. do you wanna go up to your room for a second while i finish up here? i’ll be right there after i serve everything ’nd clean up.. can you do that for me?”

Right Where You Want To Be || Emery Walsh x fem! reader

Summary: your shyness makes you an easy target for Emery's attitude, not that you seem to mind

Warnings/contains: nurse! reader, Emery is really mean and bossy to reader (she's into it though lowkey), canon typical references to medical procedures, swearing, tension due to a brief misunderstanding (it's resolved fairly quickly), a few masochism jokes

Beginning notes: absolutely you can, I love love love this idea so much!! and thank you tons for the emery request shes SO underrated and i love her dearly 💕 (hopefully she isn't ooc any here 🤧)

robby's perverted crush on abbot's wife ...

he comes over for dinner with you two sometimes. very, very rarely because it's impossible for his and jacks schedules to align. but when he is over, he feels so at home. it's almost ridiculous how comfortable he feels. he sits at the table, takes whatever wine you give him (he doesn't want to be difficult), compliments the shared meal you and jack made, answers your kind hearted questions. all while trying to ignore the stirring he gets low in his belly when you make eye contact with him. he feels like a schoolboy with a crush. he feels nurtured, almost.

his ears start to perk up at any mention of you from abbot. it's as if jack is talking about robby's favorite celebrity—that's the feeling he gets. a jump of excitement in his chest, a rush of dopamine to his brain that almost scrubs away the stress and horrors of the shift he'd experienced.

he stares a little too long at the facebook photos jack posted of you for your anniversary. he has jack's wallpaper photo of you engrained in his mind at this point. it was taken during a vacation you and jack took to some tropical place that robby can't remember, but he does remember the powder blue low cut dress you were wearing in the picture as you grinned at abbot from across the white-clothed table.

and when robby comes over for dinner at you and jack's house one day—without jack—you're wearing that same dress. robby is only there on jack's orders. before robby left for the night, jack told him that you made too big of a meal, and you insisted that you shared it with someone.

(robby couldn't tell from jack's wording if you meant someone as in anyone who wanted, or someone as in him)