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jazzyoranges · 8 months

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Save a horse, ride a cowboy

Tara Carpenter x fem!reader (r is also implied to be more masculine-leaning)

Summary: Tara rides you 🤷‍♀️ no Ghostface au

Words: 3.5k

A/n: the card game they play is called “do or drink” so if you don’t understand the rules here, search it up and it’ll probably make more sense

Warnings: G!P reader, explicit sex, unprotected sex (you pull out dw), blowjob, face fucking, Tara lowkey has a size kink, R has a praise kink lol, service top!R, power bottom!T (i think? idk positions that well)

MINORS DNI!!

Tara didn’t really feel like being at this party. Unfortunately for her, she was a victim of peer pressure by Mindy. The twin said something about “getting laid” and how Tara needed to “get some”, but in all honesty, she wasn’t actually listening

The party she was at was cowboy/southern-themed, and Tara opted to wear some plaid and a white crop top. Chad went fully cowboy, through. Tara said he looked like a dork, but his eyes were set on looking like someone from Red Dead Redemption. The brunette didn’t know how he did it, but Chad didn’t even look half bad. Tara swears he has a superpower at looking stupid and not stupid at the same time

Mindy on the other hand, did the least. The twin adorned a black shirt and a brown leather jacket with southern-ish accessories

Chad didn’t bother knocking or ringing the bell over the loud music, and he let himself, Mindy, and Tara into the house. There was a familiar smell in the house. Weed and alcohol absolutely flamed her nostrils, and she scrunched up her nose. When Tara’s eyes landed on you, she swore you were a goddess straight from Texas heaven

“Mindy.”

“I see her, Tara”

“Mindy.”

“No straight woman wears a wife beater. You’re in the clear”

In Tara’s favor, Chad yelled your name and waved you over

“Mindy, Tara, this is Y/N! She coached me back in Woodsboro. She’s also from Texas, so i invited her to show up all the fake cowboys like me” The football player slung an arm around your shoulder, and you held out your hand for the two girls to shake

“Nice to meet you two” Your accent was practically nonexistent, but certain words have you away. When your hand meets Tara’s, yours engulfs hers and she swears she can feel her heart beating in her throat

“Chad speaks well of y’all”

“Really? I’m surprised” Mindy laughs, but Tara is too busy sweating over you to engage in conversation

“I’m gonna introduce Y/N to the rest of our friend group, i’ll see you two around!”

“Have a good night, you two” You tip your hat with a wink, and follow after Chad

“So, wanna explain?” Mindy sends a knowing glance at Tara, a small smirk on her face

“Absolutely not.” The shorter girl makes her way into the kitchen, pouring herself a solo cup of whatever alcohol she can find. Tara chooses to ignore the burning sensation down her throat

“Nope, you’re going to talk right now. I didn’t even know you were into women like her”

“Neither did i, that’s the problem” Tara groans, covering her face with her hands

“What’s the plan?”

“There is no plan, Mindy. I don’t even know how to get close to her…” Eros or Aphrodite must’ve been listening real close because not a second later, she sees you being dragged around by Chad, rounding up a few people to play a drinking card game

“Tara! Mindy! Play drinking games with us? Ethan, Quinn, Y/N, Amber, Wes, Anika, Liv, a few other people and i are playing”

Mindy nods, and they follow you two to the living room, where all the aforementioned people were sitting. Some on the couch and some on the floor. You took your spot on the floor with Chad on your left, and Quinn on your right on the couch.

Chad clears his throat, and all eyes are on him. “Alright! Rules are simple. Everyone has to draw a white card, and do what it says. If you get a white card that says ‘Draw’, you have to get a black card and either do what it says, or drink however much it tells you. Make sense?”

The group nods, and small discussions are made between people. Tara is seated between Mindy, who’s talking to Anika, and Ethan, who’s talking to Chad

“Since i’m the one that wanted to play, i will graciously go first” Chad pulls his white card, and his face lights up. “War! Challenge another player to an arm wrestle. The loser must drink”

The twin gets up, and he points straight at your forehead. “Y/N! This cowboy challenges you in a duel of our arms!”

“How could i say no. I agree to your challenge, my good sir” You shake hands, and make your way to the coffee table in the middle of the room. Tara is on your right, and you give her a perfect view of your bicep

“You look nervous, Chad. Are you afraid?”

“You can’t teach an old dog new tricks. Therefore, the student always wins” he smiles at you, and your competitive side starts to bubble up

“When i win, i’ll make sure to spoon feed you your own words” readjusting your grip on Chad’s hand, Ethan makes his way over to be the referee

“Three…”

Tara notices your concentrated face, and how you bite your lip in anticipation

“Two…”

You adjust your grip once again, and Tara wonders what else your hands can do

“One!” Ethan lets go of yours and Chad’s attached hands, and they both stay in place. Tara can tell you two were pretty evenly matched

“C’mon, Y/N! Gag him!” Mindy cheers for you

“Don’t listen to her, babe. You got this!” Liv cheers for Chad

“Show him up, Y/N! You’ve got it” Tara cheers with a smile on her face, and you momentarily stop pushing before you catch yourself

“What’s the matter, Y/N? Losing already?”

“We’ll see” When you hear Tara say your name again, a new urge to win rushes through your body. In one swift motion, Chad’s hand meets the table, and those who were supporting you cheer

“What did you say about the student always winning?” You say with a wide grin on your face, and you kiss your arm in a show of ego

“That was a fluke! I want a rematch!” The twin says playfully

“Like you wouldn’t just lose again”

“Whatever, it’s your turn to draw”

You pick up a card, and you laugh to yourself. “Vote! On the count of three, everyone points to the person they think has had sex in the most interesting spot. The player with the most votes must confess their sex spot and take a drink”

“Alright! Three, two, one!” You count down, and mostly everyone is mostly pointing at Quinn

“Geez, what do you guys think of me?” She takes a sip of her drink. “And my most interesting spot was under the bleachers during his football practice”

This goes on until it’s Tara’s turn. Amber got an “All brunettes must drink” card, Anika got to be Simon in Simon Says (which Tara had to drink for losing first), and Mindy drew a card that made all of the single people drink. Luckily for Tara, you drank when Mindy pulled her card

“Your turn, Tara! What’ll you get?” Chad quickly made himself the keeper of cards, sitting in the middle as you sat on the couch in his place. Tara leans over, and she takes a card from Chad. Revealing her card, she see’s it says to draw

“Our very first ‘Draw’ card! I wonder what it’ll be” Chad grins, and Tara pulls a black card from the deck

“Spin a bottle. Whoever it lands on, sit on their lap for the next 2 rounds or both must drink four times”

Oohs are exchanged throughout the group, and Tara rolls her eyes in embarrassment. Less than a second later, Chad hands Tara an empty beer bottle. The twin takes his spot somewhere in the circle, and the brunette spins the bottle

“I’ll pray it lands on her” Mindy playfully nudges her shoulder, and Tara blushes. Neither of you knew it, but both you and the brunette hoped the bottle ended up pointing at you. It went around once, twice, three times

Slowly passing by the person to your right, the bottle points straight at you and you swear time stops for a second. Tara meets your eyes, and you swear she’s blushing when Mindy shoves her towards you

Tara awkwardly sits on your lap, moving to find a comfortable spot

You place a reassuring hand on her hip. “You know you don’t have to do this, right? If you’re uncomfortable, nobody is gonna judge you” Tara can feel your hand leave her side, and the smaller girl has to physically stop herself from letting out a whine of frustration

“I’m not uncomfortable. I just… need to adjust.” The brunette not-so-accidentally grinds her hips against yours, and she swears she hears you let out a tiny groan

It’s Wes’ turn next, but Tara can’t focus as she gropes around the couch for your hands. The alcohol in her system takes over when she leans back into you, and makes you wrap your arms around her torso. You happily oblige

“You having a good night, so far?”

Tara decides to be bold. “It’s definitely better in your lap”

Despite your semi-hard cock uncomfortably rubbing against your jeans, you try your best to learn more about Tara. Asking how her day was, what she’s majoring in, if she has any family; all while the brunette causes more friction by slowly rubbing her ass on your crotch. You have to suppress many moans as she not-so-casually grinds on you

Tara learns that you used to work on a family farm in Texas, but moved to California for college. You told her about the animals, the pumpkin patches, and looking up at the stars with your siblings

Not even noticing it’s your turn again, Chad has to remind you to draw a card. You instantly miss Tara’s heat when she crawls off your lap so you can draw a card. The game goes on for the next hour or so, and you can barely remember what you had to do after all the drinks you’ve had

You end up having to quit the game halfway through when you refuse to send a nude photo of yourself to a random number or take a drink. Tara’s card no longer applies very early on, but she actively decides to sit in your lap for the rest of the game

Amber kicks out the rest of the party-goers around 1 am, and you’ve been tasked to drive Tara and Mindy home. Somehow you’re the least drunk. Since Chad was their ride and he’s off somewhere making out with Liv, you so graciously offered to drive them home.

The ride to Mindy’s house was quiet, but it was a comfortable quiet. You tapped on the steering wheel to the soft music, Mindy was half asleep, and Tara was discreetly trying to look at you from the passenger seat. You dropped Mindy off at her place, and now you were on your way to Tara’s house. The moonlight was hitting your eyes in the right way, causing them to sparkle the tiniest bit Tara had a little staring problem

“Do i have something on my face?”

“Do you want to stay over at my place?” The brunette blurts out, instantly regretting her words. “I mean- uh, if you want…”

“Sure, i’d like to stay over. I’m pretty sure i have some extra clothes in here, anyway. Any scary dogs i should beware of?”

“Does my sister count?”

“Only if she bites” This earns a laugh from Tara, and you mentally pat yourself on the back

“Definitely beware of her. She’s staying at her boyfriends place tonight, so you’re good”

“Noted” You pull into the Carpenters driveway, and both of you get out. Grabbing an extra hoodie, shirt, and shorts, you follow Tara into her house

“Bathroom is on the left. Do you want to watch a movie?”

“Sure, you can pick”

“You’re gonna wish you never said that. Let’s watch The Babadook”

“Seriously? Dude, i used to jump like six feet in the air when the floor boards creaked in the barn”

“You’ll live” Rolling your eyes at her words, you made your way to her bathroom to change. You made sure to freshen up, even though you two were just watching a movie. The smell of buttered popcorn filled your lungs and you could faintly hear the popping kernels

When you leave her bathroom, Tara’s already changed into something more comfortable

“Do we have to watch something scary? Can’t we watch a sitcom or something?”

“Listen, you let me decide but we don’t have to if you don’t wanna” Tara finds her seat on the couch, your shoulders touching when she sits down the bowl of popcorn between you two

“But i will think you’re a pussy”

“The Babadook it is” You click play on the remote, and Tara lays her head on your shoulder. She barely pays attention to the movie, considering she’s seen it far too many times. Instead, the brunette opts to watch you and all of your reactions. You’ve raised the blanket up under your nose and leaned into Tara about 20 times, and the movie is just about halfway through

Every now and again you’d flinch in anticipation, and Tara would rub your thigh in support. You don’t know if your heart is beating due to the movie, or due to Tara practically being on top of you for the second time this night

When the movie ends and the credits roll, you can only stare at the black screen and Tara lets out a laugh

“So, what do you think?”

“I don’t think i’ll be able to sleep tonight, Tara”

“You’ll be okay” The brunette pats your cheek

“Can we watch something lighter? Like My Little Pony?”

“Of course you were a horse girl”

“Actually i was an Equestria Girls girl, thank you” You huff

“Tomato, potato, they were all ponies” Tara rolls her eyes, and smiles “I think i have another horror movie you’ll like. Well, it’s technically a trilogy”

“Absolutely not! I’d like to be able to close my eyes tonight and not hallucinate a monster leaning over me”

“There’s a scene where two girls kiss”

“…Fine.”

An hour in, the two main girls are making out in their bras, and you’re staring quite intensely at the scene. Something in the room shifts, and all of a sudden you start to feel hotter. Tara goes from rubbing your thigh to slowly dragging her hand to your crotch, leaving a trail of goosebumps behind. Your breath hitches when she starts to rub your clothed cock

“A-Are we about to do the thing?” You say unsure, but the brunette is already pulling you off the couch and leading you to her room

Before you know what’s happening, Tara is guiding you into her bedroom and pushing you up against a wall. Her kisses are hungry and fast, wanting to taste every part of you. When she starts to fiddle with your shorts, you let out a small laugh at how she huffs in frustration

“Take it off, already.”

“Someone’s needy” You tease

“I’ve been eye fucking you all night. I’m not waiting any longer. I had to drag you here myself”

“I didn’t know if i was reading your signals wrong…” You mumble, and Tara hates how adorable you look. God why were you cute and hot at the same time

“I was grinding on you the entirety of those two rounds at the party”

“You said you were adjusting! I thought my lap was uncomfortable!”

“I hate how the oblivious ones are always the hottest.” Tara finally manages to pull down your shorts through shaky hands, and she feels her mouth water when she sees the small tent in your underwear

“Spider-man boxers?” the shorter girl quirks an eyebrow at you

“I didn’t think i’d have sex tonight” You suck in a breath when Tara starts to rub your cock through your boxers

“Really? You didn’t think you’d get laid tonight looking like this” Tara motions to your entire body with her non-busy hand. “Maybe i should show you how pretty you are. Do you want that, baby?” The brunette squeezes your cock; and you nod, not trusting your voice to do anything but moan

As she gets on her knees, Tara pulls down your boxers just enough to reveal your hardened dick

“Jesus, you’re big…” The brunette says to herself, but you can feel your ego boost at her words. Tara starts to lick the veins on your shaft, and you can feel her massaging your balls. Your cock is drooling pre-cum when Tara kisses your tip, and you let out a breathy moan

“Please, Tara…”

“Tell me what you want, baby”

“Please let me fuck your mouth”

“Let me adjust to your size first. I’ll let you know when you can start, does that sound good?”

“A-Anything you want”

“You’re cute.” Tara kisses your tip again before taking it into her mouth, eliciting a moan from your throat. She swirls her tongue in a way that drives your crazy. Her hands make their way around your thighs, and Tara squeezes your ass as she takes half your cock into her mouth. The brunette squeezes your balls and you hear her gag as her nose meets your lower abdomen. The sight of Tara deepthroating your cock almost makes you cum

“Fuck.” You breathe out. You try backing away to give Tara a little room to breathe but she just ends up making you thrust into her mouth, making her gag. You pull her face away from your cock not wanting her to choke, and the shorter girl wipes a little drool off her chin

“Why’d you do that?” Tara asks, a little annoyed

“I didn’t want you to run out of breath. Your eyes were watering”

“It’s nice how much you care about me. I can assure you i can handle your cock, baby. It helps you taste good”

“If it ever gets too much or becomes uncomfortable, squeeze my hand” You tuck a strand of hair behind her ear, and Tara’s heart flutters at how soft you’re being despite the situation

“I promise i’ll let you know if it starts to become too much, baby” The brunette kisses your tip once again and dives right back into sucking your dick. When you look down and she gives you a small nod, your hands tangle in her hair. You start off with small thrusts, slowly going faster as Tara gets used to your size

“F-Fuck you’re amazing” Your balls slap against her chin, and Tara almost cums at how dirty it feels having you fuck her throat like a fleshlight

“Shit, i’m gonna cum, Tara…” You moan, and the brunette gives you a pleading look. You can only assume it means ‘Please cum down my throat’, so that’s exactly what you do. You release your load in her mouth with a groan, and Tara happily swallows all of it down. When she pulls away from your cock, you use your thumb to wipe away the leftover cum on her chin. Tara takes your thumb in her mouth, and licks away the rest of your semen

She gets off her knees, and gets up to pull you into another searing kiss. You can taste yourself on her tongue, and you moan into her mouth at the flavor

“Jesus, you’re still hard?”

“I have the stamina of a stallion” You shrug, feigning a big ego

“Oh, yeah? How about i ride you and we’ll see if you can handle it”

“You have such a beautiful way with words”

“I’d be mad about the teasing of you weren’t cute. Hurry up and get naked, already”

“Yes ma’am” Barely a second passes before Tara’s lips are on yours. In a flurry of heat, both of your clothes end up strewn about her bedroom. Tara pushes you onto her bed. She straddles your lap and kisses you with a new wave of confidence and fervor. When the brunette urges you to lay back, you have to actively keep your jaw closed at the sight of Tara. Unfortunately for you, she notices your staring

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer”

“Can i really?”

“Mm… maybe next time”

Your face lights up. “Next time?”

“After you take me on a date first. We can talk about the specifics later” Tara softly kisses the bridge of your nose, making you close your eyes and blush

“Right now, i want you in me.” The brunette on top of you lines up your tip with her pussy, slowly sinking down your shaft

“Fuck,” Tara takes the rest of your cock in her, and you massage her hips when you can feel her squeezing around you “You feel so good, baby”

Noticing how you moan at her praise, Tara takes note of this. She starts to move up and down, and the feeling of her around you earns a whimper from your throat. Moans are exchanged as Tara starts to ride you faster, constantly increasing her pace

“I’m close, Tar” You breathe out, letting her nickname slip through your lips

“Fuck i am too, baby. You’re so big” Her words are reinforced as she starts to tighten around your cock, and you have to use all your strength to pull out. You ejaculate your cum all over your stomach, and so does Tara. When you both come down from your high, the brunette notices how you’re still somehow hard

“Round two?”

—

A/n pt.2: cookie if you can guess the second movie they watch

#jenna ortega x reader #tara carpenter x reader #jenna ortega #tara carpenter #chad meeks martin #mindy meeks martin #sam carpenter #scream #anika kayoko #scream 6 #amber freeman #quinn bailey #ethan landry

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rottenblur · 6 months

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National anthem|A.ANDERSON

College football! Abby x reader| 2.3k

Summary: Being dragged to a football game by your best friend wasn’t something new, but Abby breaks out in a fight with another player, you just happen to be the one to come to her rescue. Would you have done it all over again if you knew what was going to happen in your dorm that night?

Warnings: smut violence for a second, abby being taken (doesnt last long), alcohol use, fluff sort of, thigh riding, kissing, choking for two seconds, patching up abby, past abby being a asshole lowkey, abby being a air forces wearer.

She was a true american. Long blonde hair, a scholarship for college football, to be the best quarterback in the state. An expensive car, a doctor for a father, daddy’s money.

Abby had boys half her size all over her, too bad for them they weren’t her type, led alone she was taken. Abby had her bitchy, short, brunette girlfriend. You always thought of her as a small dog that never stops yapping.

You knew Abby due to your only other friend, the only other non snobby person at this school. She made you go to all of the football games played at your school, if they weren’t there she would drive the two of you wherever they were playing

She says it’s because she really likes football, you knew it was because she had a crush on the masculine linebacker.

You walk with her out of the cafeteria after paying an outrageous amount for an inappropriate amount of food. She turns her head to look at you. “I’m really excited, this is their enemy school.” You roll your eyes at her.

“When are you gonna admit it’s just because of that linebacker?” You said to her, as she starts speed walking, you say her name and she just flips you off.

You arrive at the game, sitting on the third bleacher from the top, your friend searching for her girl crush on the side lines.

She doesn’t find her but she sees Abby’s girlfriend sitting on her phone on the bottom bleacher. “Oh my god, of course she’s here. Does she ever leave her alone?” She was right, fucking lap dog never went anywhere without Abby. Always following right behind.

Sometimes Abby looked annoyed like she wanted some space, sometimes Abby’s hands where all over her, on her waist, her hips, in her fucking back pocket.

It pissed you off, was it jealousy? Fuck no you could care less about Abby. Yeah you had a crush on her when you first arrived on campus, her a year older she was settled in, confidently strolling around campus it was so fucking attractive to you. She knew who she was already.

After going to a freshman welcoming party at a frat, where you talked for the first time, the lust quickly turned to hatred.

You were waiting in line for the bathroom on your third drink, tipsy but not quite drunk. She came up behind you, also waiting. You stood leaned against the wall clutching your drink, she looked you up and down. “Hey.” You said to her, she looked into your eyes. She was dressed in a t-shirt, black pants paired with white air forces, her hair messily down.

“What’s up?” She said then looked around. You clutched your drink tighter, she looked so fucking good, her sleeves were begging for life, arms too big for it. “I'm good, you new too?” You tell her your name, she repeats it and you nod. “I’m Abby, not new.” She walks up to the door, leans in to listen. “Fuck, get the fuck out. go fuck in your dorm.” She says as she pounds on the door.

Your eyes go wide, it was very forward of her. Too forward? They walk out, a guy and her soon to be girlfriend, this is when you met her too. “God you’re fucking rude.” Abby grabs the back of her shirt, she must have been drunk for her to get physical over such a little thing.

She turns around, now looking up at Abby. “You always such a rude fucking whore?” She asks, the girl looked like she would rock her shit, except Abby would knock her out in one hit. She apologizes under her breath then walks away.

After that you thought Abby was too intense. Believe it or not her and Abby’s relationship was the same then and now, they still fight and argue except they fuck it out. How did you know that? Your friend or should I say best friend’s dorm was right next to Abby’s. She heard them fight then fuck almost everyday.

At least it sounded like she was good at it. One night you slept over to her’s around two am they argued, then fucked it out. You could hear the moans from down the hall, if Abby’s dad didn’t donate so much to the school she would probably be kicked out.

The game goes well, you actually started to learn how football worked with the amount of games you had been dragged to by your best friend. She hadn’t even talked to the girl, it was kinda pathetic, you would never tell her that though. Around the end the enemy team was one point away from winning, Abby tripped, losing the ball. The other team won.

You put your head in your hands in disappointment, your friend tapped your shoulder. “Are you good? What’s wrong?” You look up at her in disbelief. “They lost.” You point to the field, she widened her eyes. “Really? Why?” She says. You roll your eyes.

“You are funny.” You say that get up, following the crowd in leaving. You're on the ground next to the field when you look over, Abby is approaching a girl with her hands out screaming about her tripping her or something. She was fuming, maybe she didn’t get so mad that one time just because she was drunk. Maybe she was always like that.

Her girlfriend walks over to diffuse it, Abby pushes her aside and starts swinging on the girl, it’s not like she wasn’t defending herself Abby was getting roughed up too. When you saw Abby spit out blood and keep swinging, that's when you decided you’ve seen enough.

You walk back to the dorms, your friend already left when you stopped for entertainment. You put your headphones in, walking at a comfortable pace till you stop at the vending machines, right at the dorm entrance.

You took an earbud out when you heard footsteps behind you, looking behind that’s when you saw her. She looked horrible. Her braid had come undone, her nose bleeding in two spots, a dribble of blood dried on her lip. God she was going to have a black eye tomorrow.

“Holy fuck, are you okay?” You say to her, she looks at you and for a moment she has a soft look in her eye. “‘M okay.” You walk up to her, putting a hand on her arm and analyzing her face closer. She didn’t resist.

“No you’re not. Let me clean you up, I have some stuff in my room.” She looks around, looking at her shoes then you. “Fuck it.”

She walks up with you to your dorm, you open the door for her, her following behind you. It was the first time you had seen her walk behind someone before, she was always leading the way no matter who she was with.

“Sorry if it’s messy, been studying like crazy the past week, haven’t really had time for anything else.” She strugs, sitting on your bed, kicking off her shoes. You gather the tossed about medical supplies you had. Some gauze, bandaids and alcohol. You grab a soda out of your mini fridge for her eye.

You hold it out, putting it on her eye. “Hold that, don’t have any ice, sorry.” She smirks, you sit on your desk chair, scooting to the edge and wheeling it infront of her.

You tuck one of your legs in between her spread legs, your knee inching away from her crotch.

“So what happened?” You ask her as you pour some vodka on a patch of gauze. “Shit, alot.” You roll your eyes, dabbing around her wounds to remove the dried blood. You accidentally touch the gash on her lip, she flinches and lets out a whimper of pain.

She clears her throat, trying to play cool on the fact she feels pain. As if it’s not normal.

“C’mon I’m fixing you up, the least you can do is tell me why.” You squeeze her thigh as an effort to comfort her. “I uh broke up with my girlfriend, I took out my anger on some girl, knowing damn well she isn’t the reason we lost.” She said looking down. You laugh, slowing your hands just so she has an excuse to stay longer. Seeing her in this vulnerable state made her grow on you.

She was better like this.

“So you broke up with her and you’re mad about that. Even though it was your choice.” She nods as if it's a perfectly logical thing to do. “Maybe it was the best thing to do? You know, My friend’s dorm is right next to yours. “Oh god.” She says then grabs the vodka, taking a quick chug then letting you continue. She had long taken the soda off her face.

You were slightly hoping it was to look at you.

“Yeah, she was crazy.” You believed her when she said that, she looked like the type. Not that you were the type of person to judge on how they look. If you did you probably wouldn’t be playing doctor with Abby on your bed right now.

“Can I say something?” You ask her, waiting for her to confirm. She nods, you place a bandaid across her nose covering the gash. “She never stopped talking oh my fuck, I dont know how you dealt with that.” She laughs, leaning back onto her elbows.

“Yeah, you learn to zone it out after a while.” She looks at you, up and down her eyes falling on a necklace tied around your neck.

She leans to you, grabbing the necklace, rubbing it in between her fingers. Goosebumps covering your body when she touched your skin. Fuck. That little touch made you feel things.

She looks into your eyes, then to your lips. It looks like she’s trying to figure you out, figure something out. “You’re in my engineering class aren’t you?” She says, still holding onto your necklace.

You nod. “I'm surprised you knew that.” She smiles at you, letting out a slight laugh. “After i freaked out at that party, then saw you in class the next day I was so fucking embarrassed.” She pauses then drops your necklace. “I never forgot you, you know I thought you were pretty cute that night.” You blush, grabbing the vodka bottle, taking a lengthy sip then coughing.

You never thought she could be embarrassed, she had so much pride.

“I thought you were intimidating.” You say honestly, as the vodka burns down your throat. She tilts her head. “That a good thing? Cause I’m going to take it as a compliment.” She says, taking the bottle from your hands then taking another sip.

You don’t know what came over you but you put her hand on your cheek, you look at her face to see her reaction, nothing.

Again she looks at your eyes, your lips then back to your eyes. She leans in, placing her other hand on your neck. Her plush lips connect with yours, you pull back looking at her then back in.

She moved fast, an innocent kiss turned into heavy making out. She pulled you onto her lap, her arm wrapped around your waist holding you tight to her.

She pulls off of you, kissing from your jaw to your collarbone, your back arching in response. She moves you over slightly, her thigh now in between yours.

Oh my fucking god.

She sucks on your neck, guiding your hips to ride her thigh, slow and brutal. With one hand she puts her hand on your neck pulling you back into a kiss as she guides your hips faster.

You could feel yourself reaching your climax, moaning into the kiss when Abby gets a call.

She picks it up, connects her lips to your neck, not stopping your hips.

“What the fuck Abby, where are you I’m at your dorm? I need my shit.” You feel her sigh on your neck, giving it one last kiss then responding. You try to quiet your moans, it was torture.

“I’m busy.” All she says before connecting your lips with hers. You feel her flexing her leg, laying down the phone on speaker now guiding your hips with both hands.

“Well hurry the fuck up or I’ll find whatever or whoever you’re doing.” Said her now ex girlfriend then hangs up.

“Gonna have to speed this up darling, not like I won't be back for more, you’re delicious.” She said into your ear, pushing you harder onto her thigh.

That pet name, god it pushed you over the edge. You squeeze her thighs between hers as your body shuttered on her, she kissed you then you moved off of her.

You look down at her thigh, now has a wet spot from you, you look at her face, lip bleeding again. You lick your lips, the strong iron taste filling your senses. Had it been bleeding the whole time?

You drank down her blood as you filled your lust, she didn’t stop you.

There was something so wrong about it..

She looks at you then her phone, sucking her lip into her mouth then letting it go, touching it with her thumb. Muttering a fuck under her breath, then standing up.

“Gotta go ‘m sorry.” She says while shoving on her shoes, walking to the door then walking over to you to give your forehead a kiss.

She touches her lip to her t-shirt leaving a crimson stain bound to last. “See ya.” That’s all you say to her before she walks out the door, knowing there was a chance you’d never hear from her again.

You still let her go.

A/N: college football abby makes me feral ive seen a couple of these and wanted to participate :)) love yall

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notjustjavierpena · 5 months

Note

I love checking in on hubby and his family. Is everything going well? Are they doing baby number 4 soon?

Nails (Drabble)

Series Masterpost | Main Masterpost

A/N: Just a tiny thing for you, anon. Mwah!

Summary: Father-and-son bonding time brings a surprise.

Pairing: Javier Peña x Reader/You (No y/n)

Tags: Allusion to smut, domestic bliss, Lucas is the best boy, wholesome masculinity, javi being a good father makes you horny

Word count: 1k

Nails

The door opens and closes in the entrance hallway as you walk around with Sebastian on your arm in the kitchen, bouncing him gently as he fusses quietly. You turn to look at the clock, realizing that it has been three hours since you sent Lucas and Javier out the door with a mission to get Lucas a new pair of football boots while simultaneously letting them have some father-and-son bonding time.

Lucas had voiced his disappointment about the lack of time spent alone with his dad when you had tucked him in last week, and thinking back on it, you had quickly realized that it had indeed been too long since Lucas had done something together with his father. So you had made plans to take Sebastian and dropped Inés off at her abuelo’s for the weekend. Tonight, you will cook your son’s favorite food (homemade burgers), watch a movie together as a family (perhaps one that you have said no to him watching in the past), and then he will be allowed to play his video games till much later than usual (even if he’ll continue playing his games underneath his blanket until he passes out).

“In here,” you call out to them, making Sebastian cry briefly until you kiss the top of his head repeatedly. His fingers curl around your hair, and you try not to swear as he tugs. You scold him in a teasing, gentle voice, “That hurts, Mister Grumpypants. Your mamá needs hair on her head, you know.”

When they enter the kitchen, you are untangling your baby’s tiny hand from your hair and making him grab at your blouse instead. You look up with a grin, “Hey you.”

Javier walks up to kiss you before kissing Sebastian’s head too, “Hola, bebito. Y mi amor. (Hello, little baby. And my love)”

“Did you have fun?” You ask, resting Sebastian on your arm to hold out your other hand for Lucas. However, your son hesitates to move across the kitchen floor and it makes you raise a brow. What exactly has happened on their trip?

Javier walks back to Lucas, crouching down to rest his own forehead against his son’s. They share a look, and Javier whispers something you can’t hear.

“Está bien, mijo (It's okay, my son),” he says softly afterward, turns his body towards you, “Lucas has something he wants to show you.”

“What is it, sweetie?” You shift Sebastian a little more until he sits on your hip. You hold out your hand a little more insistently and finally, Lucas gives in and walks up to you. He places his hand in yours.

“Lucas wanted to get his nails done,” Javier says after a moment of silence. You look down to see that Lucas’ nails are bright pink and shiny with topcoat nail polish. Your son’s demeanor is flustered.

“Lucas! These are beautiful,” you say without hesitation, “Look at them! All the boys at soccer practice will be jealous.”

Lucas lights up at the compliment, seemingly not having expected instant support from his mother. You can safely say that you mean every word.

Javier continues, “So we had Lucas’ nails done before the boots. The woman at the shoe shop had a lot to say but I told her to mind her fucking business.”

“Javi!” You exclaim at the swearing.

“Dad, it was okay,” Lucas reassures, clearly shocked too. He lets go of you to scold his father, “Mom says we can’t say that word.”

“Mom says a lot of things,” he adds with a smirk, “What if I told you that I’ll allow you to say it once tonight?”

“Really?” Lucas looks back at you for confirmation

“Absolutely not,” you reply with a roll of your eyes at your husband who only grins, “Daddy speaks in tongues. He is in trouble for saying that word.”

“Am I?” Javier suggests something with a glint in his eyes, something that goes over Lucas’ head. He ruffles Lucas’ hair, and the boy immediately tries flattering it again.

“Did anything else happen?” You ask, letting Sebastian grab at your finger when he starts searching for your hair again. You think he might be hungry soon.

“Well, after that bullsh—“ Javier stops himself as you give him a look, “—nonsense, we went back to the salon and I got my nails done too.”

You spot that Javier has gotten his nails painted red. It suits his skin tone extremely well. Lucas beams beside him and they hold out their hands together.

“Maybe I’ll forgive you for swearing,” you say, nodding towards their painted nails, “They just look so good.”

“Are you mad at me for getting pink?” Lucas asks suddenly.

Without a shred of hesitation, you shake your head, “Are you kidding? Pink is one of my favorite colors, baby. It looks perfect on you.”

“Thank you,” he replies shyly.

“I told you it was the right choice, kiddo, they look fantastic. No one can deny it,” Javier says and places a hand on his boy’s shoulder. Lucas leans into his father’s touch but then jumps as he remembers something.

“Mom! I need to show you my new shoes!” He nearly shouts, excitement bubbling up in his voice. He runs off to get the bag, “They’re blue!”

You don’t manage to answer before he is gone from the room. It makes you seize the opportunity to speak freely with your husband, “Javier F. Peña.”

“Yes, Mrs. Peña?” Javier hums with his mischievous smile.

“If you don’t put baby number four in me tonight,” you begin, closing the distance between you, “I might go fucking insane.”

FOLLOW @notjustjavierpena-fics AND TURN ON NOTIFICATIONS 💖❤️💖❤️

#pedro pascal characters #javier pena narcos #javier peña #javi peña #javi pena #javier pena x reader #javier pena fanfiction #javier pena fic #javier pena x you #javier pena #narcos #my writing #javier pena imagine #javi p x reader #javi p #pedro pascal fanfiction #husband!javi

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roseykat · 8 months

Text

KINKTOBER DAY 11

TITLE: Hells’ Baby

PAIRING: Jisung x reader

WARNING: minors DNI with this post or my blog. I create NSFW SKZ related content and I know I won't be able to regulate/monitor every single potential interaction with these posts so please do not engage with my work and page whatsoever.

SUMMARY: A blurb about Jisung, who is not a jock but friends with many, comes across as a seemingly dominant person. It’s not until you shatter that facade of his, only to find out that he’s a switch, mainly leaning towards a bottom, wanting desperately to be put in his place.

TAGS: submissive Jisung, implied dom reader, mentions of sex, choking, use of names such as ‘slut’ and ‘whore’, handjobs, oral sex, pussydrunk Jisung.

KINK: Top/bottom dynamic

KINKTOBER - MASTERLIST

TAGLIST: @kbitties @luneskies @mal-lunar-28 @kibs-and-bits @aaasia111 @fairy-lixie @dreamingaboutjisung @lizzekat @queenmea604

🩷🩷🩷

Sub!Jisung who happens to be a good friend of yours and is close with some of the players in the college’s football team.

There’s always that scene associated with jocks and football where it’s overly masculine, they’re loud, boisterous, and obnoxious which is true, but even though Jisung doesn’t play the sport, his friends have rubbed off on him that way.

It’s like he’s part of the team too when in reality his group of friends are just players whom he hangs out with a lot. However, it takes a whole party for you to find out that Jisung isn’t who he appears to be. That friend of yours who you thought was as macho as his mates, turns out to be the complete opposite – a very submissive person at that, which you find out after hooking up with him at that party.

You discovered that he can be a whiny, whimpering mess when you tease him for too long, that he loved it when you were dry humping him in his lap, that he loved to be choked, and brought to the verge of tears when you were giving him a handjob.

But it wasn’t just during the party that this façade started to crack. You managed to strip that fake curtain of dominance right back when you both started seeing each other casually.

Nights with Jisung were spent handcuffing him or tying him to the bedpost and riding him until he couldn’t take it anymore. You found it so easy to overstimulate him which he, deep down, really enjoyed. But edge him and he will become an emotional mess. Tears will fall from his big brown doe eyes as he looks up at you pleadingly, hoping that you’ll let him cum.

“What makes you think I should let you?” You would ask him, slowly stroking his hard cock with your hand.

“B-Because I’ve been good,” he’d stammer hopelessly with his words as he tried not to succumb to the pleasure you’ve helped build inside him.

“Yeah? Is that what you think? That you’ve been a good boy?”

Whenever he hears those words, Jisung is and will be spilling a white, warm load over your fist without you doing little to anything. It should count as a ‘verbally stimulated orgasm’ because you barely have to put in any work when you call him a ‘good boy’.

As you spend more time with him, you realise that praise isn’t the only thing that he loves to hear. He also likes being degraded.

Call him a ‘slut’ or a ‘whore’ and he’d get hard just as fast as he breathes when you’re edging him.

In his beautiful cave of kinks, Jisung also likes it when you use him – particularly his mouth. If that’s the case, then that man becomes as pussydrunk as they are. There is an undoubted chance in your mind that Jisung could probably cum just from making you cum when you make him go down on you.

At first, you established him eating you out as a form of punishment until you quickly realised that it’s more of a reward for Jisung. He can’t stop unless you tell him to, otherwise it’ll be well into the night of overstimulation for you.

Despite the fact that sometimes he doesn’t get anything in return, he is okay with it. Sure he finds it frustrating as fuck if he makes you cum and you don’t get him off, but he just wants to satiate your needs before his own.

That’s how submissive he can be. Just for him to please you; the complete opposite of how he acts when he’s in the vicinity of his friends.

But when he’s just with you but outside of the sexual sphere you’ve both created, Jisung still remains submissive. He wants to make himself useful for you. If you’re stressed from studying, he’s there to give you a massage. You’re thirsty? He’s already at the sink fetching you a glass of water. Hungry? Dinner is on him.

That’s just the realm Jisung thrives in.

A/N: working on so many things atm lol, still 1 day behind - and no I did not forget about Minho’s day to upload for Kinktober! That work is taking longer than I expected bc it’s sort of angsty and it has a plot to it and everything so I’m trying to develop it well. And I’m also starting to write up Part 2 to my Seungmin one piece that I uploaded yesterday bc some of you guys ate it right up so yes it’ll be on the way!

Once again, thank you for reading and interacting with my work, following, leaving comments, likes and reblogs! I appreciate it so much! Ily ❤️

#rosiewritesskz #stray kids smut #skz smut #lee know smut #bang chan smut #han jisung smut #hyunjin smut #changbin smut #felix smut #i.n smut

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monkayemporor · 9 months

Note

hello hello (°▽°)/ I hope you are doing great (=´∇`=) umm I was wondering if I could request fem! Alexis and your other fave fem! Blue lock characters with a fem!reader that is like 1,96 and kind of the man if I could say of the relationship almost like a Prince Charming and always wear kind of elegant male clothes but the second they are in the bedroom she becomes all whiny, clingy and sit on their lap while holding them as she wear cute babydoll lingerie and cry from overstimulation (//▽//) ITS SO EMBARRASSING BUT I REALLY LIKE THAT

NOTES: Crazy how this is like being made almost a whole month since it was requested…BUT ANYWAY, I see that you’re a person of culture 👍

Pairing: Fem!Masc!Reader x Fem! Alexis Ness & Fem!Rin Itoshi (separate)

Wc: 937

MINORS DNI PLEASE

NESS:

Your choice of fashion was…odd to say the least. Unfeminine to be precise. Not to mention that your height of 6’4 gave you the appearance of a man. To others it was weird, but your girlfriend Alexis Ness simply adored it.

She loved the fact that you acted like her own prince when in public. But behind closed doors…

“Mmh- No more babe, please!”, you whine as Ness stuck another finger up your drooling cunt, your usual dress shirt gone for a set of babydoll lingerie in the color of magenta. She ignored your squirming in her lap and instead buried her face in the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent as your puffy folds sucked in her fingers.

“Please [Name], let me take care of you~”, she whispered into your ear, slowly dragging her fingers in and out of your pussy.

What a shame, in public you were so elegant and dominant, but here with your girlfriend, you were reduced to a sniveling mess desperate for release.

You dug your fingers into Ness’s back, surely leaving marks as you kept on whining, “Ngh, need something bigger!”

“Be patient.”, Ness murmured in response and curled her fingers in your cunt, erecting moans and whimpers from you. As your mind became hazy with lust, Ness propped you on the bed and spread your legs, your glistening folds now fully exposed and you whimpered.

Keeping one eye on your mound, Alexis reached out for something on the nightstand. Your eyes widened as she grabbed a large magenta strap-on along with lube.

Slowly, Ness gave you a show of lubing up the strap and your legs quivered at the sight. Fuck being the manly one, you were to desperate to come.

Once Ness angled herself over you, she leaned down and gently nipped at your breasts, “Mm, you taste so good~”

You bit your lip and planted your feet on the bed, “Ness, just hurry it up…”

With a sudden thrust of her hips, Ness buried herself into your already wet hole, moaning at the contact and busying herself on one of your nipples.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!”, you hissed in pleasure and wrapped your legs around the shorter woman, “Ah- Fuck-…”

With a few more thrusts, your mind completely broke by the combined pleasure of your girlfriend’s thrusts and the overstimulation she had given you earlier.

With one last moan, you came all over Ness and when she pulled out, you could see the strap was covered in your fluids.

With a fucked out look on your face, you watched as Ness covered two of her digits in the fluids and stuck it into her mouth, a soft sigh escaped her mouth as she tasted it.

“So good, Liebling. But I want more~”

RIN:

“Look how the prince has fallen.”, the tall woman snarled as she had you on the bed, your legs wrapped around her neck as she angrily ate you out, nose tickling your pubic hair.

You bit your lip angrily back and tried not to show how much pain you were in by the fact that Rin wouldn’t let you come. On the side, laid your torn babydoll lingerie, something you had worn earlier.

“Oh, fuck you.”, you hissed through gritted teeth. It wasn’t that you actually hated Rin though, but for some reason the other woman had felt threatened by your presence. Was it because of the fact that you were taller, more masculine, or just simply better at football than her?

But none of that mattered here, because Rin Itoshi had turned you into a sniveling mess. The striker ignored your pathetic little noises and instead focused on her tongue stuck deep into your cunt.

She felt you tighten around her and slapped your breast, “Fucking whore, you want this, don’t you?”

You mewled back in response as tears welled up in your eyes, “Can’t cum- Need something, ngh! Bigger!”

At the sound of that, Rin pulled away from you and shot a triumphant smirk, “Well too bad, because you’re not getting to cum, not unless I say you can.”

You simply stared up at her and tried to grind on the nearest object, too addled with the thought of releasing to pay attention.

Suddenly, you gasped and threw your head back when Rin shoved a vibrator in your drooling folds and a dildo up your ass. She flipped you over onto your stomach and started to thrust the large toy in and out of you, lust glinted in her eyes as she watched you get absolutely manhandled by her.

Oh how the prince has fallen.

“If you cum without my permission, I’ll make sure you don’t get to release for the rest of the damn night.”, she hissed into your ear as she leaned closer and groped your breast. Relishing in the fact that the only response you could give was a moan. You really were too far gone.

Pleasure and pain filled your mind as the dildo was rammed into your tight hole continuously while the vibrator worked on your clit, sending ecstasy through you.

But it wasn’t enough. You needed to come, screw Rin and her threats. But just as you were about to climax, the younger Itoshi suddenly stopped.

You almost cried at the lost contact until Rin shoved your face into the pillow.

“You fucking bimbo, didn’t I tell you to not cum?”, she asked angrily and trailed a finger down your clit.

“Mmh, sorry Rin-”, you squealed but got cut off by the vibrator being set on the highest level.

“Tonight, I am going to ruin you.”

NOTES: I have a love/hate with this fic bro. ALSO THANKS SO MUCH FOR HELPING ME REACH 52 FOLLOWERS!! MY LITTLE POOKIES!!! <3

#blue lock x reader #blue lock smut #alexis ness x reader #alexis ness smut #rin itoshi smut #rin itoshi x reader #female reader

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my-soupy-brain · 8 months

Text

Next Door Neighbor: Part 1

I have oodles of prompts I am starting to answer and draft but I’ve been playing with this one and wanted to get your reaction. No clue where it’ll go. Aiming for a three parter? Maybe some Michelle angst? We will see. Hope you enjoy!

relationship: Ted Lasso x Reader (F)

warnings: pining, lust, masturbation

Description: Ted Lasso moves next door and you make friends.

—

You’d seen him outside a couple of times, your new neighbor. He had a mustache, dark hair swooped neatly. He wore training clothes but more often than not, just a Kansas City t-shirt.

“Hi, neighbor,” you said one day, taking a little break to cross your lawn while washing your car. “I’m y/n.”

You put your hand out and he accepted. “Ted. Ted Lasso. Nice to meet ya,” he offered in return with a charming smile and dimples.

He was handsome. Broad shouldered and sturdily built. His forearms had some muscle, while his torso had some softness to his tummy. A neat seat of teeth set behind a small mouth and a wide brown mustache.

“How do you like the neighborhood?” you asked while wiping off your hands. You noticed your t-shirt was a little damp from the hose.

“Oh, I love it so far. It’s very nice. I just got back from a couple years in London, coachin’ soccer over there. Or, football as they call it.”

You smile. You remember seeing him on TV when your friends watched a match.

“I knew you looked familiar.”

“Guilty as charged!” He laughs with a masculine chuckle.

“Say, you need help with that car washing’? I’ve got a spare set of hands here.”

You nod and agree. “That’d be great if you don’t mind!”

Ted grabs a sponge from the bucket and helps, asking you about your life: What brought you to Kansas, what you do for a living, where you’re from.

He smiles to himself as he watches you wash your car, the soap and water clinging to your shirt, which is clinging to your breasts. He tries to shake the image out.

After you’d dried the car down and tossed the sponge, you thank him.

“Aw, anytime for a neighbor.”

…

The following week you pop over to Ted’s noticing his SUV in the driveway. A knock on the door and a smiling Ted Lasso greets you once again.

“Well hello there, neighbor!” he chimes, opening the door for you.

“Hey there, Ted! I hope you like cookies. Baked them myself,” you say, offering a big platter covered with plastic wrap.

His eyes sparkle and he smiles at the gesture. His mind wanders back to London for a second, when he was the cookie baker.

“Thank ya so much! Come on in, have a seat. You got a couple minutes?”

You nod, and he whisks the platter away to his kitchen. You take a look at his humble decor. Neat and tidy. Photos of him and a little boy - must be his son? - sit on the mantle. He’s got a framed AFC Richmond jersey hanging proudly and photos of him with his team.

“You look like you had fun over there,” you offer when he comes back.

“Oh, I sure did. Nothin’ like takin’ a broken engine and making’ it run again,” he says with a smile, offering you a seat on the couch.

He offers a glass of fresh sun tea and you accept, chatting lightly with him. You can’t help but smile when he talks. His sweet voice, his sense of humor. He beams when he talks about his son, Henry.

“So what do you do for fun around here, now that you’re back?” you ask brightly, hoping to find a way to spend more time with him.

“Oh, I go to football games, and watch my son play his sports, y’know. I like playin’ darts at the pub, well, bar. Sorry, still tryin’ to shake my London vernacular.”

You smile at his charm again.

“I’m awful at darts.”

“I could teach ya!” Ted offers brightly and you smile. “That’d be great, Ted!”

You make plans to hang out tomorrow night at the bar a few blocks away. The best boards in town, Ted says.

….

At the bar, you wave at Ted when he walks in the door, and he bee-lines to where you are in the back.

“First round’s on me,” you offer and Ted tries to shoo you off. You shoo him off first, putting your card with the waiter. You can help but let your cheeks warm when he smiles at you.

The waiter brings the drinks — a whiskey and cola for Ted and a gin and tonic for you — and you chat a few minutes before Ted claps his hands.

“Dart lesson!”

You pop out of your seat and head over to the nearest dartboard, which Ted throws some change into to light it up and pulls the darts from the holes.

“What do you call airballs in darts? That’s how I play,” you laugh, and he laughs with you.

“Not by the end of this lesson you won’t,” he chides. “OK, stand right here...”

Ted’s hands position you where to stand, and he turns your body at your waist for the best angle. You feel a tingle up your spine. His hands are so big and warm, so strong… he’s so broad chested and he smells like a woodsy cologne and…

“OK, ready?”

Oh no, you weren’t listening. “Can you repeat that last part?”

Ted smiles and blushes. He knew where your thoughts were going. He positions you again and helps you hold the dart, pulling it back at your wrist.

“Best to stop sudden, let the dart sail, don’t direct it.”

You throw the first dart, and it doesn’t do great with your aim, but it at least lands on the board.

“There ya go! See? Made contact. Step one complete!”

Ted steps to the line and chucks the dart like an expert, hitting it damn near the bullseye.

“You weren’t lyin’, Ted! You’re damn good at this!” He smiles.

You step to the line, and he helps position you again. His hands on your hips now, a little lower than before. He’s standing a little closer. His breath a little heavier.

“Right there, just like that,” he says with a gravely Southern voice that makes your entire body shudder.

He smiles to himself when he feels the electricity from you. He helps you pull your arm back as you throw the dart. Another hit.

You squeal in delight and Ted smiles, proud. He can’t stop looking at your smile, how your hair bounces when you jump on your toes.

The game goes on, you share more drinks, more laughs, more stories. He tells you about London life, the team, and when you make it back to the table, his divorce. You share about yours. You both share how it’s affected you, how you’ve grown. Therapy has helped, and you share that, too.

The night goes on, and you decide it’s time to call an Uber and head home.

“Split one with me? Going to the same place, basically,” you laugh and he nods.

Once you’re dumped out at home, Ted stands tentatively with his hands in his pockets.

“You wanna…” you both start at the same time. “Come inside?” you ask and he smiles. “That sounds mighty nice.”

He comes into your home, noticing all your books and art. A space that’s very much yours. It makes him happy.

A shared drink, some more shared stories and laughs, and Ted decides it’s time to head home for the night.

“Thanks for coming, Ted, it was so nice hanging out with you tonight. Let’s do it again soon,” you offer, opening your arms for a hug. Ted gratefully accepts.

But the moment is perfect, the lighting just right and when he pulls away, you both stop and look into each other’s eyes, then lips, then eyes — and you both lean into the middle.

Ted’s soft lips kiss gently, and yours do too. But when you feel his tongue against your lips you open to him. It deepens quick, your breath coming short and fast through your nose, your hands clutching his back, his cupping your low back and ass.

When you finally break apart after what feels like a century, Ted’s eyes are glazed over.

“Holy moly,” he murmurs, making you smile. “That was…something…”

You smile. “Do you wanna stay…over?” you ask, hoping he agrees so you can find out what else he’s good at doing.

Ted smirks and chuckles. “Oh, as much as I’d love that, sugar, and I would… I’m going to be a gentleman and go home.”

You pout a little but respect his decision, and when he closes the door, you rush to your bedroom and open your dresser drawer.

…

Once you’re nestled in bed, you close your eyes and think about the kiss. About Ted’s hands, about his scent, about his broad, sturdy chest, about the way his tongue danced with yours.

You turn on your toy and let your body run with the desire. Images of Ted’s body dance through your brain, and you think about how good it would feel to be under him — filled by him.

Oh, God, it would be amazing. He’d kiss you and push into you. Maybe he’d spank you if you asked.

Oh, my God! Oh, God…

Your stomach turns and tightens with the thoughts, the toy working just right, and you climax, calling out his name, cursing, shaking, trembling.

You smile and lay blissfully staring at the ceiling, more desperate than ever to get more of Ted in your life.

And on his back deck, enjoying a final bottle of beer, Ted’s ears turn red and his cock tents his joggers as he listens to you moan his name next door.

#ted lasso x reader #ted lasso fanfiction #ted lasso fanfic #ted lasso smut #ted lasso x you

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hamiltonaf · 1 year

Text

Payback | Kylian Mbappé

Pairing: Kylian Mbappé x Female Reader

Word Count: 2.4K

Warnings: Cursing

A/N: My apologies for not posting part 2 of ‘One More Dance’, I’ve been so busy and I’m currently working on it so hopefully it will be up soon. Inspo is from an old tiktok trend. Enjoy .xo

(Y/F/N) - Your Friend’s Name

The thud of heavy rain drops hitting against my window set the mood to do absolutely nothing today. Though it doesn't work like that today since I have an assignment due in a few days time. It would also be ideal to cuddle someone right about now but that's out of the question because of a certain someone.

After completing half of my assignment, which I was quite satisfied with, I decided to call it a day for work and take advantage of the gloomy weather.

Taking a look at Instagram was a bad idea since I came across rumours of Kylian dating another girl. So much for breaking up a month ago and wanting to 'focus on football'. His excuse still bothers me since it was a poor one after dating for almost 3 years. I don't see a change of performance on the pitch if I’m being honest. I guess everything happens for a reason, maybe we're just not meant to be.

I mean if he moved on then so should I, right ? It then hit me that I should spice things up and give something for people to talk about. We’ll excuse my petty behaviour and blame it on the weather for making me somewhat evil. Before causing some drama, I called (Y/F/N), "Ello !" she answered. "Hey girly ! How are you doing on this beautiful day ?" I asked. "Ugh I’m so bored, you have no idea” she whined. “But never mind me, how are you doing more specifically ?” She asked curiously. “I’m doing okay, but-“ “I can already tell something is up your sleeve” she cut me off.

“Damn you really know me well” I pouted. “Of course ! Otherwise I wouldn’t be your bestie. Anywho, spill the tea…I’m all ears” she said enthusiastically. “So word of mouth right now on insta is that he is dating someone else, there’s literally pictures of them at dinner together” I rolled my eyes. “Shut up ! What the actual fuck dude. That’s so messed up. He’s such an ass” she yelled. “Yeah yeah I mean it hurts but the only way for my petty ass to get over it is-“ “If you do the same thing” she finished my sentence.

“Exactly ! So remember that TikTok we wanted to try out ages ago where one of us is dressed up as the guy and take out a bunch of pictures to look like a couple” I reminded her. “Oh my god ! Our time has finally come ! Okay I’m on my way, I’ll literally be there in like 5 mins” she said lastly before ending the call.

As soon as (Y/F/N) came over, we went straight to my dresser and got working on her makeup. We started by accentuating her veiny yet bony hands and then contoured her cheekbones, as well as her jawline to look more masculine. I failed to mention how smart she is, she came through with a bouquet of my favourite flowers so I had something else to post about.

Once we were done with her makeup, she slipped into one of my high heels so she was much taller than me. With her oversized hoodie and cap on you’d literally think that she’s a guy - a hot one at that too. I changed into a black slip dress and took off my shoes to spice up the picture, and exaggerate her height.

When (Y/F/N) came up behind me in the mirror, we both burst out laughing over how accurate she looked to a guy. “Shit. Even I would date me” she said before getting serious and wrapped her arms around my waist. After a few pictures of my head tilted and her face nuzzled into my neck, we finally had the picture. Her side profile looked so sharp, it’s actually insane.

After all of this, I suddenly felt hesitant to post for some odd reason that even (Y/F/N) noticed. I think it was pretty obvious how long I was staring at the pictures. “Girl don’t hold back now, just do it. He should see that you also moved on” she wiggled her brows. “You got a point there” I said to myself. I then uploaded 2 stories, one of the bouquet and one of us together - both simply captioned with a white heart. “If I saw this for the first time, I’d literally scream. Everyone is gonna lose their minds, especially him” she smirked. “Feels good to throw this back at him” I smirked back. “Welcome to the dark side bestie” she patted my back. “Anywho I need to run, got a few errands. Love you and call me later to update me on the drama. I’ll desperately be waiting for your call” she said as she gathered her things. “Of course ! Will do. Thanks bestie” I quickly hugged her before she hurriedly left.

I proceeded to spending the rest of my afternoon binging on early 2000's chick flicks, it wasn't until the evening when I decided to check my phone again that I noticed how many notifications I received. My notifications were the highest its ever been, well shit. We love to see it I guess.

I received countless tags on reposts as well as comments from fans, and surprisingly messages from family - understandable how many messages I received since it’s so evident that it’s not Kylian in the pictures. Scrolling through my notifications I decided to ignore all until my eyes landed on Kylian’s contact name, 'Kyky'. Surprise surprise.

"Heyy" the text read, I rolled my eyes, I don't have time for a conversation starter. I left him on read and proceeded with watching my movies. It wasn't even 5 minutes and my phone started to ring. It was Kyky calling. My heart started racing, I was hesitant to answer the call because what are we going to talk about and why call now ?

"Hello" he greeted. "Hey" I answered plainly. "Are you busy ?" He asked curiously. "Well kind of.. I'm actually just getting ready to leave" I said with a devious smile creeping onto my face. "Oh. Erm okay never mind" he said disappointed. "Why ?" I raised a brow. "I'm actually outside your apartment" he said embarrassed "No way" I said lowly to myself. "Have a look" he said as I then walked towards my front door and was met with his face. I ended the call and looked at him in shock, "You- here- like..what are you doing here ?" I asked.

"Can I come in please ?" He asked pleadingly. "What for ?" I asked back. "To talk about us" he said. "Theirs no us anymore. Theirs nothing for us to talk about" I said as I was about to close the door. "Wait. Just give me a chance" he said softly. "Theirs literally no point. You moved on..I moved on-" "You have another boyfriend already ?" He asked in shock. "I'm offended that you think I'm not capable of moving on so soon" I shook my head and crossed my arms over my chest.

"So you must've known this guy whilst we were dating ?" He asked as he started to grow angry. "Yeah so ?" I scoffed. "You were just waiting for us to break up so you can date this guy" he said as he started to raise his voice. "You literally did the same thing. You made it seem like it was such a simple break up for your own good, but for the last 2 weeks you're rumoured to be with another girl !"I said as I started to grow annoyed. "Yes, but she's just a friend" he said.

"Funny how we’ve been together for so long and I never met this friend before" I said. Just then my next door neighbour yelled at us for raising our voices. "Please do yourself a favour and leave" I said as I shut the door. I then heard rattling of the door and in came Kylian. "You weren't invited inside" I said. "Well I had a spare key" he said as he held up the key. "That was supposed to be returned to me when we broke up" I said as I snatched the key from his hand and went to sit on my couch. “Also, how could you act surprised that I moved on when you’re literally here after I posted a picture with another guy ?” I questioned. He then sat beside me, "Can you just stop talking about that idiot ? I came here to talk about us…How do I make you love me again?"

"Love ? Dream on" I half laughed. "I'm being serious" he said as he looked between my eyes. "Forget about me loving you. How do I know that you love me ?" I asked. "Well I missed you all this time so I came back" he smiled. "It's not that simple. If you truly loved me as you say, you wouldn't have wanted to break up after all these years" I said. "Look I'm sorry okay ? I really am. I wish I could go back in time and reverse what I did...I just needed some time to myself to think about my future personal life and I kept imagining you in it..." he said as he gently moved a strand away from my face.

"Don't play with me right now" I warned. "No jokes. I love you. I really do, and I want to continue to spend the rest of my life with you" he said as he held my hands. "Okay cute. Anyways I have to go meet my boyfriend. It was nice of you to stop by..I'll think about it" I huffed as I got up. He grabbed a hold of my wrist and pulled me towards him to sit on his lap. "Stop lying" he smirked. "What makes you think I'm lying ?" I raised a brow. "I know your facial expressions when you lie. I just know you all too well because you literally could've left the second you opened your door instead of coming back inside" He said with a smile.

"Well I've changed my mind, I rather be with him right now" I shrugged. "I want my old (Y/N) back" he pouted. "She left the building the day you left her" I said lastly and got up to walk to my room. "Ouch" he pouted as he followed behind me. "I still love you no matter what. Always have and always will" I gave him a brief look before pretending to rummage through my closet. "So is this how it's going to be ?" He asked as he leaned back in my bed and watched me. "I told you that I need to think about it" I said as I continued to skim through my closet. "I'm not going until we stop fighting" he said casually "This isn't fighting. People don't get back together based off 5 minutes of talking to them after a whole month" I said as he stood up to stand in front of me.

"I like it when you're angry" he said as he got closer. "Don't" I said softly as I looked down. He lifted my head to meet his eyes as he cupped my cheeks, his thumb tracing over my lips. "You're making this harder" I pouted. Just when his lips were a mere centimetre away, he mumbled "It shouldn’t be hard if you have a boyfriend…Should I stop ?"

I hesitated to answer. To give up the game and kiss him or keep annoying him. “I can’t” I faked a pout. “Why not ?” His mood dropped. “I can’t do this to Nico” I said as I looked down. “Fuck Nico !” He yelled. “How the hell do you even know this guy ?” He asked frustrated. “We met at a party” I answered casually. “Besides him, it’s wrong of you to cheat on your girlfriend” I said looking everywhere else but him. He walked closer which made me take a step back, my back hitting against the wall. He placed his hands on either side of me, cornering me. “I just told you that she’s a friend and nothing more” he tried to say calmly. “I’m not convinced” I shrugged.

“Forget about her, she’s irrelevant right now. I came to claim back what was once mine. If I have to fight this stupid so called boyfriend of yours, then I will” he said as he inched his face closer to mine. There was a moment of silence. Both of us holding eye contact and switching between looking at each others eyes and lips. He leaned in and I didn’t stop him. It was a sweet soft peck. His forehead against mine, he sighed and said "I'll give you your space.” I surprised myself by grabbing a hold of his hand and pulling him back into place. “What’s wrong ?” He asked. “You’ll fight for me ?” I teased. “I know that I’m not fighting anyone because you’re lying, but if I have to then I will” he said as his hands were on my waist.

“How can you tell I’m lying ?” I instinctively wrapped my arms around his neck. “Besides reading your facial expressions, we wouldn’t be in this position right now” he said. “Or doing this” he said softly before placing his lips on mine. I pulled him closer against me and just then he broke away from the kiss. “I think I should go” he teased. "No no wait just a little more" I hushed him as I pulled him closer to connect our lips once again.

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w33zyw00zy0 · 1 year

Text

How Charming ~ Simon Riley x Fem Reader

Summary: She meets the 141 in a local pub for celebration after their last mission, but after her late arrival and most members drunk, she finds herself stuck with Ghost and his bratty attitude.

Warnings: Hardcore Smut, M Oral, Spit play, A little bit of degrading, Force, Semi-public, Rough yet Consensual Sex.

You looked up at the tatty, worn sign that swung with a creak at every breeze that filled the air- ‘The Woolpack Inn.’

The strong, sharp italic writing, worn and scratched with the ever-changing British weather. The brick was covered in a historic look, sad attempts of removing graffiti affecting the appearance.

Yet other than the nationalistic, out of place feel of the pub - it was definitely less dodgy than half of the other bars Soap had recommended in the past.

The pub door opened with a ‘DING!’, quickly alerting the staff that chatted to the locals of the small town. The strong scent of whiskey, beer and a mix of ‘masculine’ cologne created quite the welcome.

The grey-haired man that was tending the bar gave a small nod as a welcome before leaning back on the counter to continue his chat with the bearded, classic British men that took up his barstools, beers in hand, cheering at the ‘footie.’

It was a Friday evening and surprisingly busy as the sound of multiple, overlapping conversations lingered and soaked into the brick walls. The strong sound of cheering and screaming coming from the tv that hung shabbily from the corner, the Football match playing, like expected.

“You made it!” A strong accented voice spoke up, louder than everyone else.

Your eyes darted to the booth situated opposite the tv - obviously. The team crowded into the seating, shoulders touching. It caused a small, and extremely amused huff to leave your lips at the view.

Soap beckoned you over with a quick sway of his hand, patting the space that he had saved between himself and the infamous ‘Ghost’.

You walked over sitting myself where requested.

Groaning slightly, Ghost lifted his hips forward, sprawling himself and spreading as much as possible, his knees carelessly knocking into yours. His arms barged into yours, creating an awkward and uncomfortable tension.

“I’m glad you made it!” Soap spoke, every syllable looking like a struggle for the man, as a delayed strong whiff of alcohol hit your nose. But nonetheless you replied with a polite smile and a pat on the shoulder at his kind gesture.

You quickly turned your head as, the burly, Manchester-Accent of Ghost screamed directly down your ear due to the pixilated red card that appeared on the telly.

You scoffed at the inconsiderate action, a look of disgust and judgement splayed on your features.

A conversation quickly started. With most of the 141 on their 3rd beer and clearly a little tipsy, it wasn’t hard. Soap slightly slurred his words, mispronouncing vowels every now and then. Yelling to Gaz about something he was passionate about and Gaz yelling back due to the mix of bad hearing and football fans hollers.

Price had left the booth after giving you a quick pat on the shoulder to go smoke his cigar outside.

However, Ghost continued to ground his knee into the flesh of your thigh.

You shot him a snarl, watching as his eyes removed themselves from the tv screen, carelessly glancing down. He scoffed at your useless response, rolling his eyes and re-placing his attention back to the TV-Screen, taking a sip of his beer.

“Asshole” You spat, my words hidden by the loud cheering as the digitalised man approached the goal, ball dribbling effortlessly between his legs. But still removing a little chuckle from the man, himself at your childish reply.

You stood from your seat, shimmying yourself past Ghost, purposefully making it a struggle as you blocked the TV-Screen with a small smirk and a mouthed ‘sorry’.

“Fuck off newbie.” And a strong grasp on your hips was enough for you to oblige as he pushed you out the way.

You yawned slightly, approaching the bar and tapping the polished wood material with my finger as you waited for the attention of the Barista.

This wasn’t the night you had planned, everyone was either practically drunk already, disappearing into a world of their own imagination or tired from the past mission that you were supposed to be celebrating.

Guess not.

You watched as the Barista finally wiped a glass with his grey rag before threading it back through his belt and approaching your stool from behind the counter.

“Evening.” He spoke simply, his harsh Norfolk accent showing through his words, “What can I get for ya’?”

“Just a pint, please.”

You smiled gratefully as he nodded, turning to fill my request.

You sat on the tatty little bar stools that lined the wooden counters, the surface slightly sticky and filled with an old smell of ale. The cracked material that lined the barstools underneath you making a uncomfortable sensation on your thighs as you tried your best to wriggle into a comfortable position.

“Make that two.” A gravelled voice shouted over the noise of the crowd, assuming the stool beside you.

After a few minutes of silence, he glanced over his shoulder, catching your attention from the corner of your eye. His pupils scaled your body taking in every curve and crevice, before returning his eyes to yours.

His eyes physically widened at the sight of you staring back at him, causing his head to turn to the TV as a smirk pulled on the corners of your lips.

“What was that?” You chuckled slightly, finally making notice of Ghost who had decided to join you at the bar.

“What was what?” He blinked slowly, not taking his eyes off the match for a second.

“I just watched you undress me with you eyes.” You laughed once more , a small red blush becoming apparent under his mask as you questioned his behaviour.

“You wish rookie.”

You scoffed slightly at his reply, it was obvious. You had caught him.

“Two pints?” The barista slid them across, the smell of alcohol causing Ghost’s eyes to rip from the tv and admire the beverage in-front of him.

“You like footie?” His Manchester accent became more apparent as the beer tainted his voice even more than the 3 before that.

“Eh,” you shrugged your shoulders, quietly pleased at the sad attempt of a conversation. It wasn’t hard to tell he wasn’t the conversation type, “I don’t really get the point, what’s so fascinating about a ball being kicked by sweaty, rich men.”

A small chuckle came from beside you before the sound was muffled by Ghost lifting up the end of his mask and scrunching it past his nose; just enough to make out the blonde stubble that grew carelessly on his cheeks, his sharp jawline, and the end of his slightly crooked nose covered in the ever so faint freckles.

Your eyes lingered on his plump, peach coloured lips that slightly cracked at the edges as he took a sip on the liquid, licking the foam from around them.

“‘Course you’d say that.” He grumbled, another round of cheers following afterwards as the score raised to 2-1.

“What is that supposed to mean?” Confused pricked at your skin at the eerie reply.

“Well your a girl, aren’t you?” He responded easily, his words never faltering at the shocking reply.

“What.” You spat out, you had your fair share of misogyny from your experience in the army. It was expected. But this, for some reason, completely burned every piece of restraint you normally had.

“Girls don’t do football. Not proper football.”

Anger bubbled underneath your skin at that response. You swigged the beer, downing it, before slamming it back down onto the table and wiping your mouth with the back of your hand.

“You know what. I’ve had enough of you.” You spat, watching as his eye lids raise as the response.

Attention caught.

His neck slowly craned around, a look of disbelief plastered on his face at the sudden snap.

“Never thought you of all people would be the misogynistic, hateful type,” You mumbled through your teeth, “guess mummy didn’t teach you right.”

You had taken it too far. You knew you had. But it had obviously hit a nerve as the look of surprise turned into a look of slow-rising anger. His eyebrows furrowing and his jaw clenching under the mask. So it worked.

“What? Did I press the wrong button?” You spat, slamming a ten-pound note on the counter before jumping off the stool, rushing out of the pub. However, you couldn’t help the smirk that was slowly taking over your face at the mix of anger and adrenaline. You hadn’t talked back to anyone since you had joined the army. The rebellion had lit a small fire in your belly.

You laughed a little, gasping as the adrenaline drew your lungs into an uneasy breathing pattern. The look he gave of pure rage and anger sent butterflies to re-arrange your guts as a warmth built between your thighs. Had you just yelled at Ghost? Simon Ghost Riley? Of all people.

The cold air pricked at your skin as you walked further away from the pub, silently gloating to yourself at the dominance, letting out small giggles.

Your legs carried an echoed sound to bounce off the dingy surroundings of the dark street the pub was built on. Your hair blew ever so slightly in the cold rush of air, causing hairs to stick up on both of your arms. A satisfied sigh leaving your mouth as you gleefully took in the sky.

DING!

The sound automatically changed your emotion.

You remembered it.

It created a uneasy sensation as the sound filled the silence that once assumed the night sky, echoing down the worn streets, reminding you over and over before filling your bumped flesh.

The rapid sound of heavy approaching footsteps following after the echoed ‘ding’ made you bite down on your tongue.

Shit.

Ghost.

“Keep walking.” He spat in your ear, a small tingle assuming your back and trailing your spine as his cold hand placed itself on your lower back, guiding you forward. You tripped and stumbled slightly at his doubled steps that you tried to keep up with.

Your eyes wandered up to his, his pupils kept straight ahead, dilated and lidded.

Fuck.

A small opening finally came into shot, a little alleyway crammed in between the silent streets. The opening was small and completely pitch black, however, surprisingly clean. Small windows hung open from the houses either side, their bins lining the opening from outside.

Ghost finally slowed from his determined stride, pushing you by the lower back into the opening.

“Ghost. What the fuck are yo-“ A hand quickly covered your mouth, the cloth material cutting off your breathing.

“Shut your bratty little mouth,” He spat, crouching slightly to become face to face with you. His hot breath mingled out of the mask and onto your flush face.

“I’ve had enough of your little attitude.” He scoffed, his eyes never leaving your.

“Whatever-“ you mumbled, rolling your eyes, shuffling under his gaze as you tried desperately to break eye contact.

A sharp slap met your left cheek as his hand grabbed your jaw harshly, forcing you into eye contact. His eyes now more narrow and deadly - if even possible.

“How ‘bout you shut the fuck up? Yeah?” He mumbled, a growl nearly replacing his normal tone. It lingered in his throat, small growls becoming more apparent the more he talked, “Can’t stand your voice..”

You nodded slowly at the tone of his voice, submission filling every limb, the stinging of your cheek creating a uncomfortable mix of pain and pleasure. The way he talked to you sending a pool straight in between your legs as he pronounced every word with exaggeration, speaking to you like a dumb little slut.

“You humiliated me,” He tutted slightly, his tone now lower and sounded with more tease, “In front of everyone.”

“I’m so-“ Another slap landed on your cheek, creating a whimper to bubble up from your throat and mewl out of your lips.

“How are you gonna re-pay me?” His tone dropped slightly, his eyes slightly clouding the anger with a another emotion. Lust.

His hands released themselves from my jaw, pushing me against the brick. The rough texture piercing into my back creating a groan to fall from your lips, the cold sensation filling my back.

“Hm?”

“I-I don’t know…”

“Not good enough,” He groaned through his teeth, keeping direct eye contact as your pupils scanned his face in search of the answer, “Where’s all that bratty attitude gone?” A small scoff emerging.

His eyes finally left yours, watching his hands as they scaled the sides of your body. The scratchy cloth of the gloves still attached to his skin pricking a new sensation. A gasp falling from your mouth as you followed his movements with lidded eyes.

His fingers reached your neck, each one taking your neck in a hold. His eyes looked back into your own, a small sense neediness plastered in every shine as he placed a little force into his grip, sending you to my knees in-front of him.

Your knees hit the cold floor, the hard concrete sending pain to shoot through your nerves as he grabbed my jaw positioning your eyes to glance up at his.

“I have an idea~”

A small hum fell from your lips at the sight of Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley looking down at you on your knees with such clouded neediness.

“I think you know what I want, brat…” You gave a small nod at the comment, your hands running up his thighs, towards the zipper.

The atmosphere was silent, peaceful almost other than the heavy breathing that came from the Masked Man as your fingers lingered on the zipper, pulling it down and undoing the button with a ‘pop’.

His dick was already hard, his boxers stained with pre-cum slightly at the control he had. It clearly poked through the thin material, the cloth making it look easily 6 inches.

You drew him from his boxers, the sudden cold air causing a hiss to fall from his lips. His tip was slick with juices, a few prominent veins covering the length.

You took two fingers, spreading the juices further down the tip. He flung his head back letting a strangled ‘Fuck’ linger in the air mixed with laboured breaths. His hands flew to steady himself against the brick wall as you moved your hand down to the base. His head now forward and hanging loosely.

“Stop fuckin’ teasin’,” His Manchester accent becoming more prominent with every pump, “Put it in ya mouth already.”

“Are you fucking serious ?” You scoffed out, his attitude making anger bubble and twirl with the pleasure building.

“Yeah, yeah.” His hands flung to the back of the head, eagerly pushing his cock past your lips and into your mouth.

A groan emerged as he stuffed himself down your throat. Your eyes watering at the forceful ram, your hands clenching onto his thighs to steady the sudden dizziness. A whimper followed quickly from his lips as you laid your tongue flat to fit the full length, slightly teasing the tip as your tongue brushed past.

His fingers tangled in your hair, grabbing a fist and pulling it tight as he guided your throat around him. Looking down on you with lidded eyes and a open, heaving mouth, he pushed roughly against your head, setting a pace that cause spit to gather in your mouth and mix with the liquids seeping from his tip.

You rolled my eyes at the eagerness and lack of care, earning a scoff, “S-so bratty, even with my… fuck- cock in your mouth.”

Ghost pulled his cock out fully from your mouth, watching as the mixed spit rolled down your own chin before slamming himself back into your throat, earning a loud gag that turned his drooling mouth into a smirk.

“Fuckin’ ‘ell…”

The muffled words falling from his mouth mixed with the constant slick sounds of wet skin from your puffy lips built an even bigger warmth in-between your legs. The stimulation became almost unbearable as he sped up, his mouth once again drooling and his eyes rolling back.

You rubbed your thighs together, desperate to keep the wetness that soaked through your panties under control. But it soon became too much, your thighs began to move, grinding yourself against the cold pavement, the sensation of the temperature against your covered clit sending you into overdrive.

My mouth began to babble incoherently around his cock at the mixed feelings of pleasure, the vibration of your lips sent him over the edge as he kept a strong grip on your hair, using your mouth as a toy. In and out. His cock going in slicked and coming out soaked in all sorts of lewd liquids.

You bunched your hands tighter around his trousers, steadying your limp head that was being quickly bobbed back and forth. The stimulation and neediness causing yourself to grind harder against the pavement, your moans and gasps sending Ghost into pure pleasure.

“Fuck… Fuck… Fuck.” He chanted it religiously, the warmth of his breath mixing with the cold air and coming out in puffs of steam as he sped up, the grip becoming tighter as he shot cum down your throat, babbling incoherent insults throughout his high.

He finally released himself from your mouth, hissing at the cold temperature.

A chuckle came from his mouth as you collapse against the brick wall, cum dripping from your mouth, a patch left on the pavement from your own pleasure.

“You can’t be cock drunk already,” He leaned down, swiping the cum off your chin with his finger before stuffing it in my throat, earning a gag.

“Swallow.” He spat, watching as your throat bobbed the white liquid disappearing down, your tongue slipping round and in between his digits until they were clean. Removing them with a ‘pop’.

“I’m not done with you.” He teased lifting your limp body off the floor by your neck, placing yourself against the brick wall, using the flat side of his hand to smush your face into the cold brick. Placing your legs around his waist, he pulled your soaked panties to the side, pushing himself into yours with a harmony of moans.

“I-I can’t- mmm~.. I can’t… I can’tIcan’t… ahh~” You mumbled, his head resting against my shoulder as he watched your body move up with every thrust. Non-stop whimpers falling from your lips at the overstimulation.

“Y-yes.. you can,” He rasped into your ear, pushing into you once more, raising your body up the wall.

“Nonononooo…” You mumbled out, your head becoming limp and falling into the crook of his neck as he continued to push your own figure up the wall by just his cock. His thrusts were slow but hard, his tip managing to slowly pull out, forcing pre-cum to dribble down my shaking inner thighs before slamming itself back into you. A squelch emitting and reverberating off the walls.

He forced himself in once more, your legs finally giving up and dropping from his waist. Your mind dizzy and your eyes permanently rolled back. He groaned slightly at the sight, before hoisting one of your legs back onto his hip, angling you just perfectly to hit that spot that made your stomach unravel and my moans become screams.

“S…sshhhh. quiet. Quietquiet.” He whimpered, his jaw biting down on your shoulder to keep out all the festering noise that threatened to spill. Your eyes pricked with tears, every thrust making your jaw drop, and caused drool to spill out.

The spit ran down your cheeks before dripping off your chin and pooling on your tits. Lewd noises fell out of your mouth, loud and uncontrollable.

His mouth quickly latched onto your tits, his tongue licking a long stripe across the pool of drool, nipping slightly. You threw your head back, the overstimulation of not only his cock but the amount of liquid that ran over your body, the absolute mess, it was fucking hot.

His pace picked up, his thrusts becoming sloppier yet still deep as his breathing quickened.

Your body finally gave up, the ever-building orgasm snapping and every limb becoming weak and paralysed as he continued his fast pace through it. Your mind was officially blank, your sight complete and utter darkness and your jaw slacked open permanently, incoherent noises and chocked out breaths falling from your puffy lips.

“shutupshutupshutup…” He mumbled out, two fingers flying into your mouth causing you to shut your lips around them. Your tongue swirled around the two digits, dragging your tongue along every inch and forcing it in between the two fingers.

Your third orgasm began building when the spit began building around his fingers, seeping from your lips and over his palm as he thrusted them into your mouth, keeping pace with his cock that was absolutely destroying your poor slit.

The whimpers and moans falling from himself were no longer unholy but a step further. His voice becoming drawn out and high pitched as he breathed heavily, overwhelmed by the two entirely different sensations.

But yet his fingers did nothing, it didn’t mute the lewd noises the slightest. It encouraged them, the vibrations of my confusing word play stimulating his cock more.

“F..fucking h…ell. Youdontshutup.” He gasped out, removing his fingers from your mouth with a pop. Trailing the slicked fingers down every curve before meeting your clit. Beginning small circling patterns around the puffy, cock-drunk sensitive spot. His pace involuntarily quick, as the cum from your past orgasm pooled out, causing his pace to quicken from the sloppiness.

His mask rose up his face from the pure force he was now putting into every movement, your body rocking hardly against the wall, your head still thrown back, slamming into the brick with every thrust.

His lips latched onto yours, his tongue wrapping around your own. The sound of your lips was easily masked by the wet slapping of his thrusts, but it was still audible.

After a few seconds, his mouth left yours, a long strand of spit connecting the puffy peach lips that had been devouring your own. Your eyes widened at the sight, his eyelids drooping ever so slightly as his eyes rolled back, attaching his lips back onto yours.

Everything became faster. The sounds. The moans. The pleasure. Everything.

“closecloseclose…” You gasped out, the word making his lips rip from your own. A thin layer of sweat taking over both your bodies at the pure pleasure. His fingers sped up. His thrusts sped up, his spare hand wrapping around your hips as you moved in sync.

“fuckfuckfuck… let them.. let them.. h-hear yo-you.” He gasped out as your walls clenched, causing an even tighter fuck toy, “w-want them toknowhow much… you l-Iove m…m-ah~ cock..”

A harmony of complete and utter smutty sounds left both of your mouths, mixing.

He chocked out a few silent whimpers before his thrusts slowed, his voice a lot more high-pitched and out of breath as he drew his cock out once more before thrusting it in.

He gasped once more before his tip releasing a stream of cum to fill the completely battered slit, his head flying back and his eyes rolling into his skull at the sensation.

That view alone caused your stomach to snap once more, your cum mixing with his as he rode through his own orgasm. The alleyway now finally quiet other than a few breaths.

He finally removed his cock, earning a hiss at the sudden emptiness and sudden pain of over-stimulation. Your body fell to the floor, every limb, limp and tired, your head falling forward as cum failed to keep itself in between your cunt and instead leaked out, coating your skin and the floor beneath you.

“Fuck.”

That was the first full word that had managed to fall from your vocal cords since entering the alleyway, and you weren’t completely mad about it either.

You raised the back of your hand, wiping the last drips that covered your lips and chin. Your breathing was heavy and almost uncontrollable as you tried your best to soothe the violent shaking in your thighs with the other hand.

A sudden sound of a ‘ZIP’ caused your head to turn and look at the tall figure who now had his pants pulled up, his zip done and his button secured.

He quickly pulled the mask down from his nose to his chin, giving you a quick glance in your position before crouching by your side.

“You tell anyone about this, your dead.” He spat through his teeth, your mind almost immediately missing the soft, whimpering side that was replaced by the more threatening side.

Your eyes dropped a little, sadness filling the corners. Ghost’s eyelids rose slightly at this, a smirk pulling at the sides of his lips as he scoffed.

“What? You really thought we were gonna be all lovey dovey?” He chuckled once more. But not one of pure happiness, but one of spite, “You tell anyone and I’ll tear your tongue out.”

He pulled his mask up slightly, pecking your cheek with a small kiss before checking himself once more and leaving.

Leaving you on the cold floor.

In a mess.

How charming.

#simon riley smut #smut #simon riley #ghost smut #ghost cod

199 notes · View notes

fontanacollymore · 8 months

Text

Have You No Idea You're in Too Deep? Nurse! Hawks x Mentally Ill! Fem! Reader

Warnings: None for part 1, but subsequent warnings for brief mentions of sexuality, mental and emotional abuse, drugging, and realistic depictions of mental health and psych wards.

Author's Note: Hello, everyone! I've missed you, and I'm so happy to get out the next part of my Prison Break AU. This story is set in the same universe as Ward S, though Aizawa does not feature in these stories. I do have a one shot planned for him in the making, but I promise he has a much greater role in the overarching plot of Prison Break. Hawks and (eventually) Dabi simps, this one is for you.

As always, please enjoy and MDNI.

P.S. Shout out to my older brother for all of his nursing stories he told me while I was in middle school. This one couldn't have been written without you, dude.

You always believed smart men were safe men.

Of course, that’s what everyone believed, right? After all, society teaches women that intelligent men are stable, friendly, and above all nonviolent. Teen movies taught you that the football player will break your heart while the nerd with the thick-rimmed glasses and face blotched with acne is secretly your knight in shining armor. You never assumed the mantra was entirely correct since, after all, nobody wants to be judgmental. You simply believed it was accurate just enough, that just enough football players and wrestlers embodied negative traits to prompt you to ignore them all together.

You assumed the hesitation erupted out of your relationship with your father. Your father always wanted a son, as if your numerous sisters and yourself weren’t testament enough to his effort to obtain one. No one ever questioned why your family stopped having children when your baby brother was born ten years after you were. Society expects, even celebrates, the masculine urge to have a son. You’ve borne witness to the expressions people gave your family when your parents’ minivan pulled into a public parking lot. People always gawked after the fourth girl exited the van, their eyes growing wider and wider until, finally, your parents would round the silver Toyota holding their male bundle of joy in their arms. You always noticed how people sometimes laughed to themselves and whispered to their companions, their hushed comments carried by the wind until they hit your ears.

“Seven girls and one boy.”

“You can tell what Dad wanted, can’t you.”

“Poor little man, having to grow up with all those women.”

You didn’t believe your father resented you or your sisters, not really anyway. Fathers naturally crave a son to mold into their likeness and continue the bloodline, however medieval that desire sounded to you. He never treated any of you harshly, but he made no secret that you and your sisters’ existences were a matter of indifference to him. After your brother was born, all his time went to caring for your youngest sibling, as though he feared the presence of estrogen would contaminate him.

Not that any of it mattered, anyway. You were well into adolescence by the time your brother came along. Since you were born somewhere in the middle, you cared for yourself most of the time anyway. Your sisters, rather than your mother, raised you through your confusing teenage years. By the time you were halfway through high school, however, they were in university, leaving you alone with your parents and younger siblings. Somewhere along the way, you stopped talking to everyone, finding that extracurriculars provided a sufficient excuse and better sense of community than your own family. You spent more hours at school and your friends’ houses than you ever did at your own home.

In the years before your baby brother’s arrival, your father involved himself in the lives of each of his daughters, trying to find a vicarious son among you. He enrolled all of you in sports, allowing some of your sisters to thrive and ultimately find places on varsity teams in high school. Your two eldest sisters even continued to play in college, though their medals and winning achievements were ultimately overshadowed by your brother’s macaroni art and participation trophies. Despite your father’s lack of involvement in your life, he never failed to express his disapproval of your activities.

You were never athletic. The gene skipped over you and impressed itself into your younger sisters for whatever reason, gifting you instead with clumsiness and an introverted nature. Regardless, your parents signed you up for sports, placing you on a soccer team at the age of six despite your protests. You despised every second of it, biting and scratching your parents when they forced you to dress for practice. When your coaches approached your parents after your first game and politely told them that perhaps sports weren’t for you, your father’s resolve only thickened with anger.

He made you practice when you arrived home until so much liquid rained down your body you couldn’t distinguish your tears from your sweat. In turn, you began locking yourself in your room to get away from him. He retaliated by refusing your right to eat dinner until you practiced soccer. This cycle continued until soccer season ended, and you believed you finally had a reprieve from sports.

And then he signed you up for basketball. And then softball. And then gymnastics. He reasoned that you simply hadn’t found your niche.

You didn’t escape the terrible world of sports until high school, when ability actually mattered for making the team. When you failed to make any of the teams, you suffered a near nervous breakdown in the girls’ bathroom, fearing the afternoon when you would return home and inevitably tell your father you’d failed him. In a panic, you’d signed up for other extracurriculars to stall for time and formulate an explanation, but, by the time the bus brought you home from school, your heart was in your throat. When you told your father, he didn’t seem surprised, barely even disappointed really, and you thought you’d managed to avoid his wrath.

What he didn’t express in anger, however, he made up for in condescension.

You never unenrolled yourself from your alternative activities, a mistake you realized too late when your first meeting with the debate club arrived. You went to the meeting with the intent to announce your exit but only found yourself immersed in the world of scholasticism. Not only did you enjoy debate, but you were actually good at it. Other people noticed too, and, by the end of the semester, you were known among the student body for your intelligence. The trophy cabinet in the school became filled with awards containing your name during your four years of secondary education, and your cork board at home contained a plethora of further medals and ribbons.

None of this mattered to your father. Your success in anything other than sports mattered little to him already, even less since you were his daughter.

To you, high school was nothing more than a barren wasteland where those in power achieved their positions through viciousness. Rules for achieving popularity were arbitrary and ever changing, which never appealed to you. Despite the sanctuary that extracurriculars provided, school was never perfect. As typical of students who don’t fit perfectly into the popular “mold,” you were bullied by your peers, and, though you enjoyed your time spent with your peers, you set a timer for graduation the second your junior year came to a close. The adults in your life promised you college was an academic oasis where everyone actually cared about their studies, and you couldn’t wait to be free of the constraints of high school.

You discovered upon graduation, however, that your teachers misled you.

Although your application contained a check mark next requesting a dormitory on the academic and substance free floor on campus, you wouldn’t find out until later that your university denied entry to freshmen. You arrived on campus with your duffel bag and backpack only to find yourself living one flight below the sports dormitory. After arguing with residential assistance for an hour, you resigned yourself to the fact that you would simply have to prove yourself academically to gain entry to the oasis, and, as you opened the door to your suite, you consoled yourself with the possibility that your living circumstances may not be so bad.

And then you met your roommate.

If Mattel managed to create a Barbie doll that was somehow more blonde and more plastic than standard, that design manifested itself in Yu Takeyama. From the moment you entered your dormitory, the blaring of Doja Cat from the Apple homepod signaled that you already hated this girl. Your roommate didn’t utter a word to you as crossed the threshold and beheld the pile of clothes lying on your side of the room, but you couldn’t tell whether she ignored you or simply couldn’t hear you. You cleared your throat, prompting her to turn around and contemplate you with a scrunched up nose as though she was prepared to say something before realizing you lived here too now. The entire visual exchange lasted three seconds, her violet eyes looking you up and down before saying “Just throw my shit on the floor. I don’t care.”

Takeyama’s habits might have bothered you more if you actually had been allowed to live in your dorm room. As though she sensed the hostility before it even had a chance to brew, Takeyama gave you little reason to spend time in your dormitory. Starting the first week, Takeyama’s friends occupied your room, talking and laughing loudly enough that you weren’t able to start your coursework, but the arrangement only bothered you mildly until your late and missed assignments began piling up. After your issues with residential assistance at the beginning of the term, you highly doubted a confrontation with Takeyama and the RA would be effective, so you simply adapted your routine to meet Takeyama’s silent demands, and, by midterms, you only occupied your dorm when you needed rest.

When the semester ended, you operated on four hours of sleep, suffered from a substantial caffeine addiction, and constantly carried around a bottle of tums to aid the indigestion caused by your diet of ramen and underprepared cafeteria food. But you ended the semester with your beloved 4.0 intact, and that was all that mattered to you.

And then you met him.

The amount of dual credit courses you’d taken during your high school career landed you with an additional fifteen credit hours at the end of your first semester. For all intents and purposes, the college considered you a sophomore, and, while you still couldn’t escape your awful roommate, your eligibility for greater scholarship opportunities offered you more reasons to escape your dormitory. Your academic prowess also eliminated the majority of your general education requirements, allowing you to begin attending basic level courses in your Humanities major. Although you wouldn’t gain access to your program until you finished the spring semester, you were now able to stay within the confines of the Humanities building instead of making rounds across the campus daily, and being among somewhat like-minded peers prompted a sense of comfort within you.

When you enter Philosophy 110 for the first time, the last thing you’re expecting is to find the most beautiful man you’d ever seen sitting in the front row.

He’s a Grecian beauty, with curls the color of brass and topaz eyes. His attire reminds you of a model in a catalog for men in the 1940s, creating a contrast between his mess of wild hair and his finely pressed turtleneck. Circular, thin-rimmed glasses fall down his thin nose but slide back up the bridge of his nose almost comically when he lifts his head to look at you. His eyes are piercing — intense — like Cabanel’s Fallen Angel but kinder. You don’t even have to guess that he’s rich; enough evidence is presented for you to assume his financial status without guilt.

You take the spot next to him and are immediately hit with a rush of bergamot and cedar. He doesn’t smell as though he’s bathed in it, but the aroma wafts off him in a way that you know he’s applied a generous amount. He either wants everyone to smell him, or you assume he’s indifferent to the amount he uses. The idea he’s like every other man who overapplies his cologne never crosses your mind. He’s rich. Rich people have standards.

“You know, staring is considered pretty rude.”

Until he reprimands you, you aren’t even aware that you’ve been staring at him, but, judging from the glint in his eyes and the upward tilt of his lips, he doesn’t seem to mind catching you. Pink heats your cheeks, but you return the smile, sliding your three-ring binder to the side of you as you note the pristine condition of his iPad and attached keyboard as the gap between you seems to widen though you scoot your chair closer.

“Sorry,” you mumble, “you just smell really nice.” He chuckles at that, his eyes lifting to the ceiling as though he’s debating whether to humor you or not. Already, you feel as though he’s speaking to you out of convenience or maybe even pity.

“Most people tend to smell with their noses, not their eyes don’t they?”

“I guess so,” you reply, trying to keep a good humor. You can’t decide if his response is an asshole comment or not before concluding the latter. Years of debate, academic decathlons, and junior government meetings with the children of politicians, doctors, and businessmen acclimated you to the depths of human pretentiousness and arrogance. You’d much rather deal with rich assholes than dumb ones, at least.

You hope he isn’t stupid. He’s too pretty to be stupid.

“I’ve never seen you around here,” he comments. Your body burns with the attention, the way his eyes gleam at you through his glasses, and you notice that his eyes appear larger through his lenses.

“I’m only in my second semester,” you explain, earning a chin tilt followed by an “ohhh” from his lips. When he tips his chin, you can see his honey colored stubble.

“This is my second year,” he admits, but his lips form a coy smile before he adds the rest of his statement, “of my second bachelor’s.”

“Second?” you echo, your mouth dropping slightly, “you don’t mean your master’s degree?” He smiles, smugly exposing perfect white teeth.

“No. I mean my second bachelor’s degree.”

“What’s your first degree in?”

“Nursing.”

Silence follows while you contemplate his words. You had heard of people returning to college for another degree, but those instances were reserved for adults several years removed from their university days who selected a field out of duty and found they hated it later. You’ve never heard of someone outside that demographic returning to school, especially in a job field that pays as well as nursing does.

“Man,” you laugh, “you must really hate your job, then.”

“Oh no, I love nursing,” he replied, lifting his eyebrows, “don’t get it twisted. I wanted to double major when I was getting my first degree, but everyone told me I’d kill myself before I got there.” The words are spat out mockingly and followed by an eye roll before he smiles again. “In hindsight, I shouldn’t have listened and just did what I wanted in the first place, but that’s life.”

“So are you working while going to school?”

“Yep,” he replies emphatically, creating a popping noise on the “p” sound. “You know the hospital outside the city? I work there.”

“Oh that’s cool,” you murmur, lowering your voice as more people begin funneling into the lecture hall, “what part of the hospital do you work in?” His grin widens, leaning over to you slyly as though he’s been waiting for you to ask.

“Psych ward,” he whispers right as a professionally dressed man decades older than any of you walks into the hall. He’s a tall man with short, cropped red hair and a vicious scar adorning one side of his face, and you can tell from the way he scowls across the room that he’d rather be dead than be standing at his podium right now. You lean away from Keigo at the same moment he does, evidently smart enough to realize this is one professor whose lecture you won’t be able to screw around with.

“Philosophy,” he begins, not even bothering to state his name or introduce the class with his syllabus, “is—”

The second your professor turns around, you hear something slide in your direction. You look from the corner of your eye to see your notebook being passed in your direction with a little note scribbled in quick but legible writing in the top right corner.

I’ll have to tell you about my job sometime. Name’s Keigo, by the way.

Even though he isn’t looking directly at you, you scribble a response beneath his chicken-scratch containing your name and phone number, and, for the rest of the class, you spend more time exchanging glances between the handsome upperclassmen to your right side and your notebook to see if he’s written anything else down. When the allotted two hours pass by without a single response or glance in your direction despite multiple opportunities to reply, your heart sinks at the realization that Keigo is probably just a flirt and has no real intentions of speaking to you after this lecture except maybe in passing.

When the lecture is over, you stand and leave while Keigo is gathering his things, feeling stupid for thinking that he’d ever grace you with the time of day, but, by the time you’re halfway back to your dorm, your phone dings. You look at your screen to find an unfamiliar number messaging you.

Hey, I was being serious. Let’s hang out sometime.

Even after you meet Keigo in the dining hall for dinner that night, you never actually believe his presence is going to be permanent.

Despite the fact the two of you click over dinner while exchanging stories of your academic experiences from your high school and his college days, despite the fact he seems genuinely interested in what you have to say, despite the fact he walks you back to your campus housing and proceeds to hang out with you until curfew forces him to leave, you can’t bring yourself to be excited about his presence. You’ve never had great fortune with men in the past, and none of them held a candle to his level of allure. Not only is he intelligent, but he’s drop dead gorgeous too. The fact he’s so attractive makes you want to distrust him, you suppose one quality levels out the other. Still, you can’t foresee him sticking around for very long.

One dinner turns into another. Days fade into weeks, yet Keigo never leaves your side. Your spot in philosophy is right by Keigo’s side. He monopolizes all your evenings, providing you with respite from your roommate situation. Sometimes, you’ve even slept in Keigo’s dorm when Takeyama’s friends steal your bed with no prior warning, but you always sleep in the spare bed in Keigo’s room. He apparently has a roommate named Touya, but you’ve never seen any trace of the man.

“Touya’s busy,” Keigo states, smoking a cigarette, “his dad’s Professor Todoroki if that explains anything.” You raise an eyebrow at the admission, not because you don’t believe him but because you can’t see Enji Todoroki as the fatherly type. No matter how hard you try to picture your philosophy professor holding a baby or carrying around a child on his shoulder, your mind can’t seem to form the image.

“Really?” You’re lying on your stomach on Touya’s bed. The sheets are pristine, only recently mussed by your body, and consist of a black and blue pattern that resembles a crackling fire. Keigo nods. “I didn’t see him as the family type.”

“He has four kids.”

“Damn,” you comment. Keigo smiles.

“You’d never guess Touya’s his kid. Guy’s done everything imaginable to his face. I’m talking piercings, face tattoos, hair dye — the whole nine yards. Embarrasses the hell out of his dad. I think there’s some family beef or whatever.” You try even harder to conjure up the image Keigo’s describing, but, despite your best efforts to create a younger Enji Todoroki with piercings and tattoos in lieu of his facial scars, you end up laughing.

“I just can’t see it,” you admit, but, as you sit with the description, you realize you haven’t seen anyone on campus that matches the picture. Several students have dyed hair, piercings, and tattoos, but none have all three as strikingly as Keigo’s outlined for you. “How come I’ve never seen him? Especially if he’s a professor’s kid.”

You notice Keigo avert his eyes, his golden gaze drifting to the ceiling for a moment. Smoke wafts from his nostrils during the pause. “Touya skips class. A lot. Personally, I don’t even know why he’s here. Or why Enji puts up with it really.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah,” Keigo agrees, “don’t act like I’ve told you any of this, by the way. Neither of them like to talk about it.”

You agree, committing the information to the far recesses of your memory. No need to go upsetting your only friend and your most difficult professor at the same time. It’s best if you forget the information before you do something stupid.

Besides, as the weeks go on, you have plenty of other things to occupy your mind.

As difficult as it is for you to accept Keigo’s intentions as a friend, you find yourself plummeting into greater denial when his behavior turns romantic. You’ve always had something of a crush on Keigo, but you forced yourself to let go of your feelings as anything more than a fantasy. In your eyes, Keigo’s too far out of your league to give you the time of day.

But then he starts buying you gifts. Expensive ones at that.

It all begins the week of midterms. Keigo had expressed his distaste for your numerous spiral notebooks that are falling apart at the bindings as well as your mountains of loose leaf handouts and syllabi littering your backpack and parts of his dormitory. You essentially live there now, but neither Keigo nor the ever-absent touya complain about your presence. Really, Keigo’s more bothered at your lack of what he deems acceptable technology.

“You need a laptop,” he gripes, “or an iPad or something. You’d murder half as many trees that way.” Everytime you respond to his complaints the same way — that you don’t have the money, that you don’t have a job, that your father is too busy spoiling his son to care about you. Out of frustration, Keigo groans and threatens to buy you one himself.

You don’t believe he’s serious until you arrive at his dorm two days later and find a cardboard box sitting on your/Touya’s bed while Keigo sits smugly on his side of the room smoking a cigarette. You turn to him shocked, but he only grins and shrugs. “I told you. Open it and tell me what you think.”

You tear open the package, almost convinced this is some kind of prank until you pull out an iPad 10 along with a keyboard and Apple pen. “Shut up,” you explain, turning to him almost half-angry, “how much did this cost you?”

“Don’t you know it’s rude to ask questions about the prices of gifts?”

“I’m serious, Keigo!”

“It wasn’t that much,” he promises, placing his hands on your shoulders, “trust me. It barely cost me anything.” You stare at him, dumbfounded. You assumed he was rich, but you never expected him to be throw-random-expensive-gifts-at-your-friends kind of rich.

“Keigo, I feel bad.”

“Why?” he questions, raising an eyebrow, “you didn’t ask me or anything. I did it because I wanted to.”

You have nothing immediately to say in response to the declaration, and your inability to argue with him only succeeds in angering you further. Before your brain can formulate a response, Keigo’s fingers are under your chin and tilting your face up to meet his. “Seriously. Don’t feel guilty about it, all right?”

Despite the pit in your stomach, you accept the expensive gift. You and Keigo spend the entire time setting it up parroting excuses as to why you deserve to own the gift. Your parents don’t take care of you and your academic needs, after all — too wrapped up in their precious son and his junior soccer league to be concerned with you. Most of the time, they barely send you enough money to pay for your nutritional needs. Keigo’s been covering your dinners ever since your parents stopped venmoing you, remember? Despite all the reassurances that he really doesn’t mind providing for you financially, Keigo’s reminders only serve to deepen your guilt once you realize the extent of what you deem your mooching.

“I could get a job,” you posit humbly, examining the white stylus Keigo purchased along with your tablet, “pay you back slowly.”

“Absolutely not. You’re not paying me back for a gift. And besides you need to focus on school.”

“You know, you work a full time job outside of school,” you state pointedly to Keigo, waving the stylus in his direction.

“And? I have more experience with that sort of thing than you do.”

“If you do it, so can I.”

“(Y/N), drop it,” he almost snarls at you, and you recoil from the intensity in his voice. You lower the pen as his stare continues to bore into you.

“All right, all right. Fine. I’m sorry. Geez.”

It’s the first time Keigo’s ever snapped at you, and, right then, you’re transported back to being a freshman crying in a bathroom stall because you didn’t make the softball team. The knot in your throat is suffocating, but, thankfully, without the flood of hormones from puberty, concealing your emotions is a much easier task now. You only have to bite the inside of your lip and look away from him.

Keigo still notices though. Immediately, he’s out of his seat and walking over to you. Firm hands rest on both shoulders, spinning you around to look at him. When you face him once more, all you can think about is Keigo’s career, his firm hands, the musculature of his upper body despite his average build, the slowly fading bruise below his left eye. You wonder what he spends the evening and night shifts doing at the hospital. Occasionally, he’ll show up to class with a fresh contusion on his face or elsewhere, and those are only the injuries you can see. “Hey, look at me. I didn’t mean to snap at you.”

“Keigo, it’s fine,” you reply, trying to free yourself from his grip, but Keigo stays you.

“No, it’s not,” he argues back, “I’m sorry. I just thought you’d like the tablet.”

“I do like the tablet,” you insist, your eyes flickering to the device lying on your bed, “I just — it’s a lot to get just a friend, don’t you think.” Keigo’s eyes study your face, his topaz eyes growing almost sheepish as his pearlescent teeth reveal themselves.

“And what if you were my girlfriend?”

You nearly choke at his response, which draws a laugh out of Keigo. The noise is so sharp and filled with amusement that it catches you off guard even further.

“Are you being serious right now?” you demand, almost stupidly, yet the excitement in your tone is unmistakable. You’ve never really had a boyfriend, a handful of dates throughout middle and high school that never amounted to anything long term, and not once were any of them ever with anyone who looked like Keigo Takami.

“Yes, I’m being serious,” he replies, “I really like you, (Y/N).”

Suddenly, you’re analyzing every interaction the two of you have had since the start of the semester. Your mind drifts back to the first day, your conversation that morning. Was he flirting with you then? Sure, you found him attractive from the moment you saw him, but had he felt the same way? Is that why he left you that note in your notepad? Instantly, you realize all of your questions are answered with a resounding “duh” as Keigo leans down and presses his soft lips against yours. Your overactive mind is silenced at the contact, but you maintain enough of your senses to wrap your arms around his neck and pull him flush against your body.

You kiss in the silence of his dorm for several minutes, alone despite the lingering presence of a stranger whose possessions haunt the other side of the room. Keigo breaks the kiss first to press his forehead against yours, his smile as wide as ever. Though you aren’t as composed as he is, you can’t deny the fireworks display occurring in your chest, especially as Keigo pulls you flat against his body and runs his fingers through your hair. You wince at the feeling of his class ring snagging against the strands, but the pain is overshadowed by the words that leave his mouth. “So? Will you be mine?”

You can’t say yes quickly enough, but little do you know that you’ve just signed your contract with the devil with saccharine words and another kiss.

#keigo takami x reader #hawks x reader #ward s #keigo takami #hawks #mha hawks #touya todoroki #mha x reader #dark content #keigo takami x you #hawks x you #hawks x reader x dabi #dabi

112 notes · View notes

lethby · 1 year

Text

Bone-ded to meet ⍣ ೋ

Art by: poyan_08 on Twitter

Pairing: Kurona Ranze x reader

Summary: You meet a cute guy thanks to your crazy dog

You laughed as you catched sight of your dog wagging his tail frantically as he stared at you from the door eagerly. You think he finally noticed that you'd take him to the dog park every Friday.

"Wait a moment (d/n), I'm not ready yet."

He barked impatiently (or so you understood). You rolled your eyes playfully and put on your shoes, checking your outfit in the mirror and combing some stray hairs with your fingers.

"Not bad hot stuff." You said to yourself.

You sighed at your dog barked again and you grabbed his leash that was sitting nearby.

"Coming, Coming."

Much to your dismay, your excited dog wouldn't stay put for one second while you tried to clasp the leash's hook to his collar. His lack of cooperation was exhausting to you.

"Can't you sit still for the love of God?"

Your dog clearly found your attempts hilarious as he sprinted though the house, making you chase after him. After what felt like an eternity, you managed to put the leash on him and finally exited the house. A nice walk down the street, and the occasional trip thanks to (d/n) stepping in between your feet, ended at the dog park. (d/n) was sure to let you know by instantly going full speed towards the gate, dragging you behind. You somehow got a hold of him and barely managed to take the leash off before he disappeared from your sight to interact with the other dogs.

You whistled amusedly as (d/n) drops all his pent up energy on some poor dogs. Seeing as this was your chance, you approached a lone tree and leaned into it, appreciating the welcoming shade it provided. You pulled out your phone to entertain yourself, checking on (d/n) and snapping some photos of him from time to time.

However, you failed to notice the two beasts charging at you, suddenly being knocked down to the floor by your dog and his new friend, grass thankfully cushioning your fall. You fought for your life against the lick attack, but it was no use, paws pinning you down against the dirt.

When all hope was gone and you were about to surrender to your fate, the weight on top of your body was abruptly gone, followed by a soft masculine voice.

"Mata! Don't attack people."

You opened your (e/c) eyes and propped up with your elbows to see a boy around your age holding 'Mata' in place with his legs, holding his collar with one hand for more security.

"I'm sorry, are you ok?" He offered his free hand to help you up.

"Yeah, don't worry"

You took his hand and he easily raised you to your feet.

'Wow, he's pretty strong'

You wiped the dirt sticking to your clothes and tried to fix the mess in your (h/c) hair with your hands. He let go from his now calmed dog and stood in front of you. Now that you could see his features clearly, you checked him out discreetly. He had sharp, pink cat eyes and shark teeth, with some of his hair pulled in a small braid.

'And pretty handsome, too'

You snapped out of your trance as he spoke.

"Sorry again, Mata gets too excited sometimes"

You glaced at his beautiful Australian shepherd, who was happily bouncing around chasing a bug, and then back at the boy.

"Oh, no worries, (d/n) here is like that too. He's a little demon that won't stay put."

You laughed as your dog stood proudly next to you, chest puffed and all.

The pink haired boy said nothing to contribute to the conversation, so it dropped down to silence. The chirping of the birds and the barking dogs were the only sounds surrounding you. Before the atmosphere got too awkward, you tried to continue the interaction when his dog approached both of you again, benefitting from the opportunity.

"Your dog is so beautiful. You said his name was Mata right? Like the Spanish football player?"

His eyes slightly lightened up in curiosity. Seems like your plan succeeded.

"You know about football?"

You waved your hand in front of you.

"Only the basics. What about you?"

"I'm actually on the path to becoming a pro player."

Well you definitely didn't expect that. You exchanged some interests and turns out he's a pretty good guy. As the conversation continued, you making most of the talking and questions, Mata got closer to you and bopped his nose on your hand. You couldn't handle the adorable animal and leaned down a bit to be able to pet him while he wagged his tail happily. It was clear by his virtuous multicolor fur that the pink haired man took good care of his dog. The boy watched the interaction in awe.

'Cute' He thought, a light blush tinting his cheeks.

You straightened up again when Mata was satisfied with your ministrations to keep chatting with the boy. Howbeit, you lost track of the conversation and didn't know what to say, falling in silence again. You cursed yourself as you tried to read the boy with no avail, seeing as he always wore his sharp neutral expression.

He seemed to read the room and pulled out some treats from his pockets and started to give them to Mata, who was more than contented. You watched as he gently petted his dog and rubbed his cheeks, scrunching his face when Mata licked his nose.

'So he has a soft side too' Your lips formed a smile and your gaze softened at the sight.

He got up and extended his opened palm to you, some treats still in it.

"Want some?"

You froze for a moment before reacting.

"Ah, thank you." You said with a shy smile.

You reached to grab a couple of treats from his hand and your fingers touched gently. You tried to hide the incoming blush by giving the treats to your unknowing dog, that paid no mind as he ate happily.

'Her hands were soft'

'He was warm'

You both were left to your own thoughts, as you watched you dogs play and get along. You chuckled as they started playing tag, not sure who was chasing who.

"Seems they're already good friends."

"Mhm" He agreed next to you.

'Not a man of many words, huh'

In fact, he was not; but right now he was more speechless than anything. He thought you were cute and you looked pretty fun and nice to be with, in his opinion. He was just to mesmerized by you in that moment.

In the meantime, you looked at your watch to check the time and saw that you were supposed to be at your home long ago. You eyes widened as you called (d/n) back and put the leash on him, this time easier since he was already worn out. You turned around to face the boy.

"Ah sorry, but I have to go now, it's getting late."

You hesitated as you really didn't want to go away yet and leave this cool boy you just met to probably never see him again. Nonetheless, your attention drifted towards (d/n), who was whining quietly with his tail still wagging, staring at his friend expectantly. You, for once, understood your dog.

"Looks like (d/n) had a great time" You chuckled.

"We'll be here again tomorrow morning." He blurted out.

You were left a little shocked at his decisive response, not expecting it. You looked up to meet his hoping eyes and smiled at him.

"Then we'll pass by tomorrow, too! I'm sure (d/n) wants to spend more time with his new friend."

You both weren't talking about dogs.

You started getting prepared to leave as you dismissed the boy, but he stopped you right on cue.

"Wait. You're forgetting your phone."

You froze as you stared at your long forgotten phone in his hand, that you must've dropped when the dogs attacked you. You didn't even notice until now that you were missing it.

He handed it to you and you thanked him, laughing at your slip up. Now checking that you had everything, you were finally ready to go as the sun set behind the trees and buildings around the park.

"Bye! See you tomorrow!"

Your dog barked in an attempt of goodbye and the boy raised his hand slightly in a wave motion. You turned you head and walked ahead, the road to your home awaiting you. You looked down to check there were no cracks in the screen of your phone when you saw a small paper note that you hadn't noticed before on top of it. You slowed your pace and moved your thumb to grab it, curiously reading it's content

Here's my number. Looking forward for tomorrow.

- Kurona Ranze

Your eyes lightened up and your heat skipped a beat, steps lightly jumping in happiness. Suddenly, the sun rays were warmer at this hour. You quietly squealed as a dumb smirk appeared on your face. Your excitement was overflowing right now.

"(d/n) today you get extra dinner you good boy! Prepare to frequent the dog park!"

Your dog put no objections at your statement as he went ahead of you with his tongue out. Your day was immediately brightened and the way home suddenly became too long because of the anticipation.

'I'm also looking forward to it, Kurona'

It was so fun to write Kuronaaa.

I've never owned any dogs so everything is pretty much made up lol. Kurona's dog is an Australian shepherd because is my favorite breed of all time, but for the reader's I tried to be as vague as possible so it's your choice. I even tried to go for 'it' pronouns for the dog but it was weird lmao.

Sleep 8hrs a day, Lethby ༊*·˚

#kurona x reader #kurona ranze #kurona ranze x reader #fluff #bllk

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kylianswifey · 1 year

Text

Obsessed With You - Kylian Mbappe x Reader

Summary:

Hiii, can I request a Kylian imagine where the reader is obsessed with specific things of Kylian's like his hands and she gets turned on by him love ya!!!

Kylian and I had been dating for two years, but I still couldn't get enough of him. He was a famous football player for PSG, but to me, he was so much more. It wasn't just his athletic physique or his charming French accent that I found so irresistible, it was the way he made me feel when he was around me.

We were at home, lounging on the couch and watching a movie. I was curled up next to Kylian, my head resting on his broad chest. His arms were wrapped around me, and I could feel his muscles ripple beneath his t-shirt as he shifted. I let out a soft sigh as I closed my eyes, feeling completely at peace.

As the movie played on, I started to get lost in my thoughts, and I couldn't help but think about Kylian's hands. They were so strong and masculine, yet they could be so gentle and tender when he held me. I turned my head slightly to look at his hands, and he caught me staring.

"What's on your mind?" he asked, his voice low and husky.

I bit my lip, feeling a blush rise to my cheeks. "Just thinking about how much I love your hands," I admitted.

Kylian's lips curled into a smirk, and he tightened his grip around me. "Is that so?" he murmured, his breath hot against my ear.

I shivered at the sensation, feeling a rush of heat course through me. I knew I was turning him on, but the feeling was mutual. Kylian's proximity had a way of making me feel alive and awake, as if every nerve in my body was buzzing with electricity.

______

Another time, we were out to dinner, sitting across from each other at a candlelit table. Kylian was dressed in a sharp suit, his hair neatly styled, and I couldn't help but stare. He looked like a god among men, and I couldn't believe he was all mine.

As we ate, Kylian caught me looking at him again. "What's going on in that head of yours?" he teased.

I shrugged, feeling a little embarrassed. "Just thinking about how handsome you look."

Kylian chuckled, his eyes sparkling. "Well, I do clean up pretty nicely, don't I?"

I laughed, feeling my heart swell with affection. I loved how confident and sure of himself Kylian was. It was a trait that made him all the more attractive to me.

The night went on, and Kylian and I enjoyed each other's company. But as we walked back to our hotel room, I couldn't help but feel a rush of desire for him. I wanted to feel his hands on me, to feel his lips against mine.

Once we were alone, Kylian wasted no time in closing the distance between us. He pressed me up against the wall, his lips hot and demanding as he claimed my mouth. I wrapped my arms around his neck, holding him close as our tongues danced.

Kylian's hands roamed over my body, sending shivers down my spine. I let out a moan, feeling my knees go weak. I was completely lost in the moment, my desire for him consuming me.

_______

Another time, we were at the beach, playing in the waves. Kylian was shirtless, and I couldn't help but stare at his perfectly sculpted chest. As we splashed around, I found myself drawn to him, wanting to feel the heat of his skin against mine.

We swam out to deeper water, and Kylian pulled me close to him. I felt his hands on my hips, and I let out a gasp at the sensation. He leaned in, his lips brushing against my ear.

Kylian noticed the way I was staring at him and smirked. "What?" he asked.

I took a deep breath and mustered up the courage to look back at him. "It's just...you're so perfect. I can't help but be turned on by everything about you."

Kylian's smirk turned into a grin as he wrapped his arms around me. "Really?" he said, playfully.

I nodded, feeling a shiver run down my spine as his hands traveled down to my waist. "Yeah. Your hands, the way you hold me, the way you talk, your laugh, your muscles, your man figure overall. I just can't get enough of you."

He leaned in close to my ear, his breath sending tingles down my neck. "Well, lucky for you, I can't get enough of you either," he whispered.

I turned to face him, locking eyes with his deep brown ones. The way he looked at me made me feel like the only person in the world. I wrapped my arms around his neck, pulling him in for a kiss. His lips were warm and soft, and I could feel the passion behind it.

As we pulled away, I couldn't help but smile. "I just can't believe how lucky I am to have you."

Kylian smiled, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. "You're not the lucky one," he said. "I'm just a football player."

I shook my head, knowing he was so much more than that. "You're more than that to me," I said. "You're my everything."

He leaned in for another kiss, and I melted into his embrace. In that moment, nothing else in the world mattered except for us.

As the sun began to set, we made our way back to our room. I couldn't take my eyes off of Kylian, admiring the way his muscles flexed with every step. He caught me staring again and smirked.

"You know, it's not fair that you get to be so perfect," I said.

Kylian chuckled. "I could say the same thing about you," he replied.

I blushed, feeling my heart race at his words. We reached our room, and Kylian unlocked the door, holding it open for me.

As I walked in, I felt his strong arms wrap around me from behind. He rested his chin on my shoulder, and I leaned back into him. We stood like that for a few moments, just enjoying each other's company.

I turned to face him, looking up into his eyes. "I love you," I said, my voice barely above a whisper.

"I love you too," he replied, leaning down to kiss me again.

In that moment, I knew that I was exactly where I was supposed to be. With Kylian, I felt safe, loved, and desired. Nothing else in the world mattered as long as we had each other.

#kylian imagines #kylian mbappe one shots #kylian mbappe x reader #kylian mbappe imagines #kylian mbappe imagine #mbappe imagines #mbappé #football imagine

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bratzforchris · 4 months

Note

hi! just saw your requests are now open! soo maybe luke x reader and y/n is questioning their identity (afab) and maybe them deciding they are genderfluid?? and being really nervous, suddenly changing their outfits and style to be more androgynous and luke confronting them about the sudden change, so a little angst (maybe getting some hate online for coming out but luke not finding out until later) and y/n finally comes out and admits their identity fearing that luke won’t except them but him obviously being completely fine with it and just ending in really sweet fluffy cuddles? congrats on 300 followers btw! I love your work, have a great day/night! 🫶🏼🩷

You Don't Have to Hide

❃

Summary: Above!

Warnings: Minor cursing, hints at transphobia, minor argument between Luke and reader

Word Count: 1.2k

A/N: Thank you for the sweet request! Please note that I myself am not genderfluid, but I tried to be as respectful and accurate as I possibly can! Enjoy<3

❃

Ever since you were tiny, you had known that you were different from other kids. You had been born and raised as a girl, and some days you were fine with that. But there were others where you longed to be raised like your brothers, playing football and getting dirty. And then there were the really weird days. The days where you felt like neither a boy nor a girl. Being a young child, you didn’t know how to describe the feeling. And so, you pushed it away.

Throughout middle school and high school, you claimed to just be “changing aesthetics” when you would have an off day, week, or month. Sometimes, you would wear a full face of makeup and tiny skirts, and other days you would opt for a plain hoodie and jeans. Luckily, your school had been very accepting and no one really thought anything of it.

You yourself hadn’t really thought any more of it until you started dating Luke. Even then, it wasn’t because of him. Being in a relationship with a very famous rockstar meant that you were constantly in the public eye. And lately, that had been what was practically the bane of your existence. You had decided that you wanted to try more of an androgynous style, that way you could explore your feminine, masculine, and in-between parts without it being so blatantly obvious you were assigned female at birth.

The first thing you had done was cut your hair. You’d had long, blond hair your entire life, which was very pretty, but very, very feminine. You had opted to cut your hair into a bob and Luke had loved the change, telling you that the bangs and layers had made you look very pretty. Having one of your more masc days, you internally cringed at the compliment, but tried not to let your boyfriend notice. You knew you needed to talk to him, but there never seemed to be a good time.

You knew you needed to talk to him, but Luke knew you so well, that part of you hoped he would just catch on and ask you about it. Maybe the easiest way to do that was to really look the part. You had worn Luke’s hoodies and shirts ever since you’d started dating, but you decided to really start taking things to the next level. You began to wear more baggy pants, paired with Luke’s shirts, or skinny jeans and the occasional hoodies and flannels you would steal from him.

For the next month, you were so happy with your change in style. You felt more like yourself, and could take this style and make it more feminine, masculine, or androgynous depending on how you felt that day. You didn’t really feel like anything had changed in your and your boyfriend’s relationship, but then again, Luke had been quite busy preparing for the Sounds Live, Feels Live tour. Unfortunately, 5 Seconds of Summer being on tour meant more paparazzi and more fans being online.

Lucky for you, Luke wasn’t the biggest fan of social media. He would occasionally reply to fans on Twitter and post on Instagram, but for the most part, he stayed off social media. He didn’t even have a burner account like most celebrities had. This meant he wouldn’t see the “news”. Some paparazzi photos of you on a more masculine day had surfaced, and some of the fans were having a field day with comments.

Why the hell does she wanna look like a dude? Luke wants a GIRLfriend LMFAO

Since when is Luke gay lol

This is so unflattering for such a pretty girl what the fuck

You read through each and every hateful comment, criticizing your looks and saying how you weren’t meant to be with Luke. You hadn’t even officially come out as genderfluid online. You had just posted a meme on your story about it, hoping Luke would see it and not thinking such a harmless thing would be such a big topic for fans. You should;ve known that this would be the pitfall of dating the Luke Hemmings. You weren’t crying, no, you were just sitting on the bed in your master suite, frozen in place.

“Y/N, we need to talk.” Luke was thumping up the stairs, his voice hard and blunt.

Luke hardly ever used the voice, and he especially didn’t use it with you. That knowledge just made your heart seize as you quickly closed out of social media, locking your phone and tossing it to the end of the bed just as Luke opened the door.

“We need to talk.” he said again, pulling off his boots and flannel, voice grim.

“About what?” You asked as innocently as possible.

You hated lying to Luke, but right now, you just couldn’t handle any more conflict or criticism in your life.

“About what’s going on. My manager was pissed today,” the blond ran a hand through his flat hair, gnawing on his lip ring. “You had to have seen it, babe.”

Luke calling you babe eased your anxiety a bit, but your heart still thumped rapidly. “I have.”

“Why the fuck wouldn’t you tell me?” Luke’s eyes watered. “I’ve been calling you by the wrong pronouns and calling you all feminine terms and buying you lingerie and I had to find out that you’re genderfluid from the press? Why didn’t you tell me, Y/N?”

In that moment your heart shattered. Luke wasn’t mad at you. He was hurting for you, most likely beating himself up over not noticing and calling you his girlfriend. You crossed the room in quick strides, wrapping your boy up in a hug as you began to cry yourself.

“I’m sorry, Luke. I’m so, so sorry. I shouldn’t have hidden it from you. I know it’s not an excuse, but I was scared you would get mad. I was scared you would think less of me or leave me.”

You two held each other for a few soft moments, until Luke picked you up and carried you to the bed, still cradling you. “Would you mind explaining, well, everything to me?” he asked softly once you both had stopped crying.

You took a breath to steady yourself before speaking, looking into Luke’s watery blue eyes. “Yes, it’s true. I am genderfluid. Sometimes I feel more feminine, sometimes more masculine, or sometimes in between. I’ve been experimenting with new hair and new clothes lately so I can have an androgynous style. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner.”

“Hey, hey, none of that,” Luke hummed, wiping a stray tear from your cheek with the pad of his thumb. “So, should I call you my partner now or….?”

You nodded. “Please. I’d like that.” a soft smile graced your face.

“What about pronouns and names?” he asked.

You bit your lip, blushing. “Right now, I like they/she pronouns,” You whispered softly. “And I’m keeping Y/N for now.” You kissed his cheek.

“I love you,” Luke whispered, kissing your lips softly. “Please don’t hide things from me next time. I love you and want to help you because I love you.”

You smiled as you snuggled into Luke’s arms. And if you two snuggled and kissed for the rest of the night, no one else had to know.

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