#this one was just too gross i just knew there was too much nastiness in that upholstery

[bbydoll18xx]

An Inch Away From More Than Just Friends

Paige Bueckers x reader

Your ex-boyfriend is quite literally the smallest man who ever lived, and Paige is there to pick up the pieces

Themes: Heavy smut, angst, happy ending <3, friends to lovers

Word count: 3k

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“And you deserve prison, BUT. YOU. WON’T. GET. TIME!” you scream-sing, each word punctuated with a hand slapping the table loudly. Tears fall down your face and you let out a ragged breath, attempting to quell your rage and anguish.

Your stupid ass, idiot of a boyfriend, Connor, had cheated on you with some tramp from Florida, of all places. And he had subsequently dumped you over text, attaching a picture of the girl sucking his cock.

You wanted to murder him. Slowly. With a knife. 

Here you sat, though, after the shock of that text message wore off, sobbing at your kitchen table to Taylor Swift. Your life felt like a terrible sitcom. 

He was your first boyfriend. You didn't really date much in high school. The boys were immature and gross, and the girls were too intimidating to approach in a flirty way. You just wanted to feel wanted, sick of constantly being the third wheel with your friends.

Despite getting broken up with out of the blue, you knew why Connor had done it. It was the reason for your countless arguments you had suffered through the last year.

Paige Bueckers.

Paige was your best friend, and Connor had absolutely loathed her from the moment you had introduced the two blondes. 

Your boyfriend had always been slightly possessive; it was one of the things that had initially attracted you to him. You had always craved an intense and all consuming love, and at first, you had thought you'd gotten that. But fate was tempted as you and Paige grew closer.

As the song you’ve had on repeat restarts for the hundredth time, you recall your last argument. It wasn’t difficult considering it happened just a few days ago. 

You and Paige were hanging out in your apartment like you did frequently. Laying side by side on your bed, a movie played on the TV, sending flickering lights through the dark room. You were both exhausted from the week, but each other’s presence produced a calm energy that washed over all of the stress you had been feeling.

Your legs are tangled up with Paige’s, and your head is nestled in the crook of her neck. The movie is long forgotten, as you relish in the presence of your best friend. She hums in content at your closeness, enjoying your company just as much as you.

You can actually feel your heart cry, realizing that you couldn’t get any closer to the blonde girl. 

You had been having several realizations the last few months: Your fondness for UConn’s favorite star was more than just friendly. Unfortunately, you were pretty sure that Connor had also picked up on this. And if this helpless little crush of yours continued, you’d be in deep shit. 

Contemplating your situation, Paige nudges into you, catching your attention. 

“I can literally hear the wheels in your head turning. Whatcha thinkin’ about, baby?” Paige teases softly.

Baby. 

Your heart flutters, as it always did when she called you little pet names.

You shrug, the movement slightly jostling Paige.

“Just dealing with some stuff,” you mumble, a feeble attempt to minimize what you were feeling. It's not like you could tell her anyway.

Before Paige can goad you into revealing more, the door to your bedroom is ripped open, hitting the wall with a slam and reverberating through the apartment. 

“I fucking knew it!” Connor shouted, pointing at you and Paige. His face was screwed up into an ugly expression of contempt.

“Dude, what the fuck?” Paige yells back, as you simultaneously shout, “Connor you can't just barge in here. That’s so fucking rude.”

“Stay away from my girlfriend, you nasty, little bitch,” Connor sneers meanly. Paige’s eyebrows furrow at this, standing in front of him to look him in the eye.

You try to stifle a laugh as Paige gets in your boyfriend’s face; she was two inches taller than him, and she never let him forget it. 

“I don’t know about ‘little,’” she retorts with a smug expression on her face.

Enraged, Connor spins around, stomping out of the room, kicking your couch on his childish rampage out.

Your breathing is irregular as you try to slow your heart rate. Sobs are already bubbling up inside your chest, threatening to seep through the cracks that Connor had left once more. 

Paige pulls you into her lap, cradling you against her chest in a desperate attempt to comfort you. Little did she know, her touch was all you really needed. 

You are pulled back into the present, feeling empty without Paige. Tears roll down your cheeks and your bottom lip wobbles. You felt like you were never really present anymore; walking through life in a daydream. Pictures of Paige constantly filled your brain, and you knew the unrequited feelings would be much more painful than the harsh termination of your and Connor’s relationship. 

Fuck. You were down bad. 

You take to your couch with a pint of Ben and Jerry’s ice cream. Those were two guys you knew would never fail you. You allow yourself to rot the day away. Episode after episode plays, but you are barely paying attention. You feel like screaming, the feeling of desperation wrestling with your typical sense of composure. 

Your vision slides over to the top of your fridge, where an impressive amount of alcohol sits.

‘Perfect. I can't pine when I’m black out drunk,’ you think miserably. 

You were so, so wrong. 

An hour later you were dancing around in nothing but one of Paige’s shirts and your underwear, using a large bottle of tequila as a microphone. You were usually a quiet roommate, but the empty apartment was the perfect excuse to let out all the emotions you had been holding in for months. 

You were so engrossed in your performance, you miss Paige walking in. When you finally turn to face her in a dramatic spin, hair flying everywhere, you gasp in shock. 

Paige is grinning. “Havin’ fun, babe?” she questions, clearly amused by your drunken antics.

You were too inebriated to feel embarrassed, and you nod with a bright smile. You thrust the bottle towards the blonde, encouraging her to join in your fun. 

“Oh, what the hell,” Paige concedes, taking the bottle and lifting it up to her mouth in a way that had you suddenly feeling sticky. 

She was sinful when she was drunk. It was not your fault that you wanted the clingy Paige that accompanied large amounts of alcohol. 

You spend the next hour taking turns sipping from the bottle, enjoying the feverish burning in your belly that follows each swallow. It doesn’t take much time for Paige to catch up to you, and you know she’s tipsy once she pulls you into her lap and starts drawing shapes onto your thighs. A quiet moan escapes from your lips at her touch; her fingers were fucking magic. 

You turn to face Paige, straddling her on your couch. The tequila in your system was making you bolder than the blonde was accustomed to you being, but she welcomed it. Now face to face, with nothing but your flimsy panties in between Paige’s muscular leg and your slick center, you gaze at her with heavy lidded eyes.

She was so pretty, and her eye contact made you bashful. Breaking away from the heat of those blue eyes, you wrap your arms around her neck in a huge hug, causing Paige to let out a small chuckle at your affection.

You were nothing if not candor whilst drunk, so Paige is hardly surprised when you slur, “Connor hated how I look at you. That’s why he broke up with me.”

Taking a moment to gather her thoughts, Paige murmurs, “How do you look at me?”

“Like you hung the fuckin’ moon,” you sigh dreamily, the tequila making you feel warm and fuzzy.

“Oh, really, baby?” Paige questions, her voice growing deeper as you tilt your hips against her thigh once more in an attempt to feel some relief. Her presence was overwhelming your senses, and there was fire deep in your abdomen that was raging.

 You forget to respond to her, too distracted from the way her leg felt so damn good against your clothed pussy. Attempting to lessen some of the desire building up inside you, you experimentally roll your hips, letting out a lustful whine as you realize how good it feels. 

Paige is momentarily stunned at your boldness before she grabs your chin, tilting it up to meet her eyes that were full of want. Your pupils are blown, the irises just a small ring at this point, and she questions if you really want to do this. 

Well obviously.

You nod your head, unsure if you had any words in you to describe just how badly you wanted Paige to fuck you.

“Baby, use your words,” Paige drawls. The huskiness of the term of endearment has you panting, and you struggle to moan out a “Yes, please just fuck me, P.”

That was all Paige needed. She places her hands underneath your ass, and lifts you up, carrying you towards your bedroom. You wrap your legs around her toned figure and meet her lips in a searing kiss. 

In a second, it feels like all the shittiness has evaporated away, leaving you feeling reborn and renewed. Paige was a fucking drug to you, and you needed another hit. 

Setting you down on your bed, Paige wastes no time stripping you of your oversized t-shirt, leaving you in your cotton panties that were now completely soaked. She swirls two fingers across the drenched fabric, smirking to herself that she was able to have such an effect on you. You whine at her deliberate actions and pout like a child who wasn’t getting their way. Paige laughs at your desperation and kisses the pout right off of your lips, licking into your mouth with fervor. 

You tug at her shirt, wanting her to be as bare as you were, and she quickly slips it over her head, throwing it onto the floor. There was still an imbalance of clothing between the two of you, and you finger the waistband of Paige’s sweatpants, wanting to see every bit of her. 

Shaking her head fondly at your blatant lack of shame, she gets off of the bed and shimmies out of her pants, leaving her in just a sports bra and those boxers you loved a little too much. From where you were still sitting on the bed, you shamelessly let your eyes rake over her toned figure. She was stunning, and you felt pride well up inside you, knowing you were finally going to have sex with the tall blonde.

It almost made the years of pining worth it. 

“This better?” Paige asks, gesturing towards her body, and you giggle in response. 

She climbs back onto the bed, a knee placed between your parted thighs and presses it against your soaked heat. You let out another loud moan at the contact, and your back arches off the bed from the pleasure. 

There are no thoughts in your tipsy, drunk-in-love brain, and it shows. You’re mumbling in tangents, now, pleading with Paige to do more. 

She finally concedes and goes to take off your panties. She’s being a little tease, slowly dragging them down your legs, while keeping intense eye contact with you. You are pretty sure the act makes your pussy drip even more. 

Placing a leg over her shoulder, Paige opens you up and takes a second to admire the gleaming wet folds that were hers and only hers. You tremble under her stare, feeling deliciously vulnerable in a way that makes you want to submit to her every whim. 

She inches closer to your pussy, pressing hot kisses all along your inner thighs. You revel in the buildup of it, trying to avoid being pushy. To no avail, your hips jut forward, slightly humping the air in an attempt to get some release. 

Coming back up to nip your earlobe playfully, Paige whispers sensually, “Gotta be a good girl for me.” 

You try to respond, but her use of the phrase ‘good girl’ makes the words catch in your throat. She resumes her kisses, trailing them down your throat to your chest, where she takes a detour in favor of showing your pretty, peaked nipples some attention. 

Another whine leaves your lips like a prayer, as Paige leaves love bites over your tits. That would look like a damn masterpiece in the morning, and you’re already planning to take a Polaroid picture of you topless, covered in Paige’s hickeys. 

Finally, she trails back down your stomach, fingers ghosting over your skin and leaving behind thousands of goosebumps in their wake. Your skin felt like it was on fire. 

“Please, Paigey. Need you, baby,” you whimper brokenly, begging for some respite from the torturous teasing. 

Paige gives in, dying to taste to you, and she licks a fat stripe on your pussy, starting at your dripping hole and ending in a tantalizing circle at your clit. Your hands fly to her head, trying not to pull at her hair too much. 

She inserts her middle finger into you, drawing another slutty moan from your lips as she pumps into you vigorously. 

There really is no way to describe just how good she is making you feel. The past six months of sex with Connor had been passionless and repetitive. You didn’t think you’d ever be able to go without this again. 

Paige inserts another finger in your pussy with a smirk and continues to pummel them against your g-spot. The pressure in the pit of your belly was already building, and you knew it wouldn’t be long until you exploded. Paige had taken a break from eating you out to kiss you once more, wanting you to taste your sweet wetness on her lips. It was possibly the hottest thing you had ever done, and the act pushes you closer to the finish line. 

“Gonna cum, Paigey,” you moan wantonly, your thighs twitching and your back arching once more. The tequila in your system causing you to act especially debauched. 

Paige loves it. 

“C’mon, baby. Be a good girl and cum for me,” she moans in response against your soaked pussy, and you fall apart instantaneously. 

High pitched whines and moans fill your bedroom as Paige continues thrusting her fingers in and out of you, slowing down as you ride out your high. If it wasn’t for the alcohol, you would be embarrassed with yourself, but there was no thought of that. 

You needed to taste Paige. 

Once Paige pulls out of you, licking her fingers off as if she was starved, you reattach your lips feverishly. You taste so good, but you are dying to know what she tastes like, and without warning, you strip the rest of her clothes off. 

She lays her head on your mountain of pillows, blonde hair fanning in all directions. You can see the heaving of her chest, already anticipating your touch. Her lips are swollen in a way that’s positively sinful, and you think you’ve never seen anyone look as beautiful as Paige does right now. 

Straddling her, you lean in to suck at the soft skin underneath her left ear, pulling out moan after moan that went right to your still-buzzing pussy. 

Trailing down to her tits, you knead one before attaching your hot mouth to the other, swirling your tongue around it and then nipping it experimentally. 

“Fuck, babe. Please. Can’t do more teasing,” Paige grits out, trying to maintain some semblance of control. 

Just as yours had, Paige’s hips squirm, and you grin up at her. You press kisses across her toned abdomen, mentally noting that her abs would be nice to ride another time, and finally settle at the opening of her legs. 

Spreading her open, you gaze upon her glistening wetness momentarily before diving in. You could not possibly wait another second to taste her. 

You two both moan at the contact, sending muffled vibrations against Paige’s pussy that brings forth a second, louder groan of pleasure. 

Wanting to make her feel so, so good, you plunge two fingers into her sopping wetness, while flicking the tip of your tongue across her clit repeatedly without ceasing. 

It had been awhile since you had eaten another girl out, but it came back to you immediately; it was like riding a bike. 

Paige’s moans fill the room, and you think you could die there happily. You’re unrelenting. The combination of three of your fingers and that lavicious tongue of yours soon has Paige panting out, “fuck, baby. I’m gonna cum.” 

She rides out her orgasm, switching between moaning your name and naughty words that have you immediately wanting to do a second round. 

You pull your fingers out of her wetness, making a show of licking them off in front of her before meeting her in an erotic kiss.

You lay back on your pillows, stifling your sighs and calming the beat of your heart from what you had just done with your best friend. You look over at her, hoping and praying that the sex you just had wouldn’t ruin your friendship. 

Paige bites her lip, in a not so great attempt at hiding a smile, and pecks you on the lips. “That was way better than that fuckhead, Connor, right?” She was smug as hell. But she was not wrong.

“Considering his dick was three inches, uh yeah,” you laugh. “But joking aside, you were amazing.”

“Just glad I could make my girl feel better,” she replies.

“I’m your girl?” you ask, cheeks ablaze in a fiery heat of desire.

“You are now,” Paige chuckles, interlocking your pinkies together in an earnest proclamation of affection. 

You were hers, and she was yours. 

#paige bueckers #paige bueckers x reader #uconn huskies #uconn wbb #uconn women’s basketball #paige #friends to lovers #angst #smut #wlw #paige bueckers x you

[speedlimit15]

the restraint it took for me to not pick this up and bring it back to my apartment when i was taking the trash out….

#i need a steam cleaner i want to save every piece of furniture i see #this one was just too gross i just knew there was too much nastiness in that upholstery

[nkogneatho]

"𝐈𝐓'𝐒 𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐊"

𝐉𝐉𝐊 𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐊

—cw: lactation kink, mentions of pregnancy, dirty, nasty, depraved stuff, vaginal sex, period oral mention, monsterfucking in kuna's (sukuna's is way too dirty), dry humping, drinking breast milk obv, not proofread (this is too long and i have an event tomorrow)

—a/n: i have officially lost it. is it obvious i have lost it? idk if this is the best or the worst thing you will ever read but this is very depraved and nasty. like...aaaaaaaaaahh okay i am normal. i put my big titties non existent breast milk into this so please read it all and i hope you enjoy.

𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔

— satoru is the man who is always up for something new. especially, if it involves pleasing you because he's a good husband and that's good what husbands do. he knows how to pull out the naughty parts out of you, but he had to work his way up.

"I am just saying. It helps. Believe me," your husband was arguing with you.

"Cut it out, Toru. I am not letting you suck my boobs."

"But why?"

"Because it's gross and weird." The moment those words left your mouth, he audibly gasped.

"Did you just call our baby's food gross?" You rolled your eyes. He's always like this. It's not like you weren't curious of his reaction when he does taste you, you were just scared that he'd be disgusted. Plus the post pregnancy hormones are worst as they make you emotional over the silliest things.

"Please, baby? Just this one time. I'll be a good boy I promise." You hate when he addresses himself as if he's an angel. He is a mischievous devil inside. But rather than having him pester you for the rest of the night and ruin your hard earned sleep (since your baby's cries always wakes you up) You thought maybe let him and just get it over with...

"mmph ffhuck." His moans vibrated through your skin, "mhmm god ywo twaste shwo good." The moment he said that, all the insecurity left your body, and heat forming between your legs.

"Ngh—toru..." you felt so embarrassed—so dirty when his eyes locked with you. Your lashes fluttered and you looked away but you swore you could feel him smiling on your nipples. Your husband really digs out the emotions you never thought existed within you.

He was pressing them together, playing like he had just found a new toy. You had never seen so much amusement in those blue eyes as much as of now. Bright pink tongue lolling out to taste the squirting liquid when he squeezed both your breasts together.

"Feels good, right baby? ah!" *slurp* He wiped the dripping milk at the end of his lips with his tongue, and you couldn't process. You felt so wet. And he knew you very well. After all, you've been together for so many years.

"Lay down baby. I'll fuck you while I drink you." You never thought you'd ever hear that sentence but there it was.

𝐅𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐎 𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈

— toji has always been an experienced man. he has definitely tried a lot of things. but there's always areas to expand knowledge and new things to learn. he wouldn't do anything that makes you uncomfortable but he knew the person he was marrying wasn't ordinary. you, deep down, were just very dirty like him.

You had your legs stretched on the sofa, upper body resting on your husband's lap. Since you guys had a baby, it was very rare for you rest. Being a parent is the best thing in the world but it also feels worse than a 9to5 sometimes. Today was a good day though. Your boy was sleeping soundly and you had some quality time to spend with each other. Well, it's hard to go on a date at this time, but you both were just happy to be in each other's presence.

Toji was mindlessly flipping through some channels after he got bored halfway through that one movie he was watching. His emerald eyes fell on your ipad screen where you were scrolling through what seemed like a baby product websites.

"I thought we had bought everything for little gumi." You looked up at him then back to the screen.

"Oh this isn't for gumi bear. This is for me. These are called breast shells."

"What? Show me." He took the ipad from you and carefully observed the product you were supposedly buying. "So what is this a fashion accessory for mommies now?"

"Hehehe," you giggled. "No, baby. My breast oversupplies sometimes and it ruins my dress. They prevent that." You watched him as he sat there in silence, poking his tongue inside his mouth. Within two seconds, he flipped you on the sofa, and gently climbed on you.

"Why are you buying that shitty thing when I am right here?"

"Toji, what do y—OH MY GOD!" he pulled out both your breast pretty quickly, all thanks to your maternity clothes. He knew you won't stop him. He knew you would get wet when he'd do that. And he was right on the money. He started sucking so hard, you felt...foreign. He had sucked them a hundred times before but watching him flick your nipples with his tongue and the milk trailing down, fusing with the tastebuds until it goes transparent and his adam's apple bobs when he gulps it. fuck.

Toji's obvious boner grinds against your heat as he suckled on those pretty tits. The wet patch on your panties were now staining his grey bottoms too.

"Overflowing down there too, mama? Hmph," he chuckled. You were to focused on the feeling of his lips on your nipples that you forgot to see his right hand moving down to cup your heat.

"Ngh—twoji," you mewled.

"Don't worry, baby. I'll take care of you." Thick fingers circled your wet clit, "Ya don't need those shells or whateva when i am right here." He is a great husband. He even saved you so much money that you were gonna spend on those silicones.

𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐎 𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐔

—suguru worships you. it isn't obvious but you can feel his devotion towards you. the way his droopy eyes lights up when they fall on you, or his ears turn red when you kiss him. he loves how you take him in, struggling a little at first because he is girthy and a bit long, but when he bottoms out, you finally exhale and relax your walls around him. holy shit. he loves it. but this time, something different struck his curiosity.

"fuck. you sure we can do this baby?" He asked.

"'s okay, sugu. doc said we had to wait like six weeks and it's been three months." You were so busy in your post pregnancy life that you barely got time for just each other. You hadn't even kissed properly in months. "plus," you reached for his cock, "i need you." Those last words came off as a whine. You needed him and who is he to deny you off your pleasure.

You were on top of him as you positioned his boner to your entrance. He watched as your cunt swallowed him. This time, not struggling as much. Thanks to dilation.

"anh! suguuu~ mhmm missed your cock." You moaned so beautifully, he found himself falling in love over and over again. Yet, something was different. Normally, his eyes would focus down on how you well you take him as you ride it, but today he had found something rather more interesting. Your big tits bumped against his face and he couldn't take his eyes of those nipples. Those glistening nipples. He could see droplets of milk settling and honestly, they looked so fucking tempting. He let his intrusive thoughts win as you felt a warm sensation on your boobs.

"haaa—fuck. sugu, mhmm—no, it's gross" He didn't reply. He didn't need to. Pretending he didn't hear that was just right. Why would you even think anything about you is gross. He would kiss the soil you walked on.

"so fucking sweet. my sweet girl." *sucksucksuck* "these are f'me too, right? these were made f'me. hmm...sweet *suck* fucking *suck* girl.

congratulations. you just unlocked his new kink.

𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐈 𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐎

—nanami is a gentke lover. we all know that. he is only mean in bed if you ask him too. that alone needs a lot of convincing because he is scared of hurting you. he is not too kinky but you can't say he's completely vanilla. he enjoys wrapping a tie around wrist as be eats you out. he also found himself getting hard when you called him "daddy." So yeah, he is a little kinky. But not in a million years Nanami Kento would've thought he would get hard watching you wipe the excess milk off your breasts.

"So i just put her down to sleep," you walked out of the baby room, with your left tit out, wiping it with a napkin. "What do you want for lunch—Kento?" He immediately broke the staring contest he was having with your boobs and looked at you.

"Yes, sweetheart?"

"Is everything alright? Is there something on my breasts?"

"Yes—I mean no. of course not." It was rare to hear panic in his voice which only made you mroe curious. You walked closer to him, hsi breath heavier than usual.

"What's wrong, Ken? Talk to me." shit shit shit. you were too close. he could feel your wet boobs rubbing against his cyan blue shirt. If you got any closer, you would loathe him for having a boner for such thing. He was ashamed of himself.

"Why are you looking away, baby? Do you not like me anymore?" Fuck. You're so stupid. Not like you? That man is in love with you so much. He cannot contain himself. You tried to get closer but he tripped on the foot of the couch and felk on it upright, and you on top of him.

oh.

OH.

You could feel it between your legs. You didn't even kiss him and it's not like you were seducing him earlier so you connected the dots pretty quickly on why he was hard.

"hmm hmm" you giggled. "is this what makes you hard you, ken? my lactating tits?"

"don't say it out loud, please." it was so fun seeing him all flustered. you adjusted yourself on top him as you thought of something very dirty.

"wanna taste? i know you're curious." he hesitated a bit, but a man like him can only go so high with his walls before he breaks them and let's his wife take control.

He started off with a few licks, testing his feet into the water. It was sweet with a hint of tanginess. The moment he felt it squirting a lot when he sucked, he fell in love. He acted like a kid who had just discovered magic. You chuckled between your heavy moans as you witnessed him trying to fit in your tits in his mouth as much as he can. You start grinding on him and it only makes him more desperate. He taps your thighs, a cue to pull your dress up and throw it in the floor. You watch as he hungrily latches his lips on your nipples quickly again. Your dress was not even off your arms yet. Nanami had discovered his obsession when he watched you squeeze you tits to squirt your milk on him.

𝐑𝐘𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐍 𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐔𝐍𝐀

—sukuna didn't even think it was possible for him to have a child as him being a curse and you being a human but here you were. he was in love with you. maybe his expression for love was different than others, but you felt it. be wasn't an embodiment of rage, but rather an overflowing confidence in his skills. That's where the cockiness came from. Existing for over a 1000 years, he thought he had experienced everything. Well...he was wrong.

"So...you just out this device on your chest and it gathers your milk?"

"Yes. It's called a "breast pump" and not a device," his vocabulary according to the new era was still weak but he was working on it.

When you detached the the vaccum of the breast pump from your boobs, Sukuna's eyes were fixated on them. He loved your tits. He had his fair share of biting and sucking on them till they were sore, but today they looked so plumped and so...succulent??

"What are you staring at? You want to drink it too or what?" You joked as you closed the lid of the bottle.

"Yes." You stared at him. Two minutes of complete shock snd silence.

"What?"

"What? You said if I want to drink it, and I answered."

"Yeah but—"

"Be a good wife, my little human. Good wives obey their husband's wishes." (Please let the feminist in you shut up for a sec and enjoy cuz i know he'd say smtg like this)

"Kuna...I don't know. It's nasty, y'know?"

"I think you're forgetting that I am a monster, baby. I ate you out during your those days of the month. This is less dirty." He yaps a lot someone shit him up before I die from embarrassment.

Sukuna laid you on the bed gently after getting you undressed. For the first time in so.many years, you were feeling shy again in front of him. It was quite an amusing sight to enjoy for him. He summoned a mouth on both his palm and licked your nipples. He wasn't sucking yet, but the hint of sweetness still laced his tastebuds.

"I am going to squeeze your breasts in my mouth now, okay?" Why did he feel the need to announce it? Weren't you already so flustered?

The tongues on his palm licked the skin of your tits before squeezing it when his mouth crashed against your nipples, spraying the milk. Sukuna sometimes forget you're a human. You're delicate unlike. The strong force of the suction made you whine and moan so loudly, it vibrated through the walls of the bedroom.

"mhmm I did not know my beloved wife enjoyed such depraved acts," he smirked when his thighs brushed against your bare pussy. you were dripping wet.

"Don't worry, little one. Let me please you. Hope you have pumped out enough in that bottle of yours. Because, I am going to milk you dry today."

taglist: @aztecbrujeria @sachiyoh @hellkaiserinphoenix @his-saiko @kokonoiscoconut @numbinyourchest @shewritesallnight @valiantmilkshakekoala @oreo-creampie @kutabaka @gojoxxluv @desi-the-blue-eyed-kakushi @chronic-claire-universe @katsukichu @shutyourwhoremouthbecky @mostlyhornyandsad @leelee-66 @stargirlstabber

#jjk x reader #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #gojo x reader #toji x reader #geto x reader #jujutsu kaisen #nanami x reader #sukuna x reader #gojo smut #geto smut #toji smut #sukuna smut #nanami smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo satoru x reader #fushiguro toji x reader #geto suguru x reader #nanami kento x reader #tw.lactation #tw.pregnancy

[privitivium]

delinquent bully yan hate-fuck... he keeps on trying to pretend that he hates it and degrade you but he's the one crying and begging in the end

yandere delinquent hate-fuck. dom male reader

both amab, cw;; degredation from both of you, anal fingering, dumbification - fucking his "womb", mild dacryphilia, uhgh,,, bulge from tummy. mild? feminization

it was him who came to you. not the other way around!

y-you really thought you were going to fistfight with the way you were handling each other so roughly - jerking him around and snarling like a rabid animal as he insults you for the last fucking time you tell himㅡyou don't remember what started it... it was just joking banter; ripping on each otherㅡmaking fun of one another before you decide that he was going a little too far and he says that no, he wasn't going to stop just because you were a sensitive little baby who couldn't take a joke. obviously - this makes you more upset... and it only proves his point. FUCK HIS POINT!

"sensitive? little?" you echo - unbelieving that he got under your skin so quickly, grumbling nonsense as you push him back by his shoulders to try and initiate something with fists - "look at me. there's nothing little about me, you little prick." and glancing downward - briefly. meaning your own dick... that tells him everything he needs to know!! and i mean, he already knew about that anyway... stalkerㅡ"y'sure?" he laughs, nearly haughtily - "still so sensitive... all because of a little banter, bro? how much of a little girl are you?" - was he seriously trying to goad you? talking down to you...

"damn, look at that." you scoffed, smug as you glanced downward to catch a glimpse at his dick bulging through his skinny jeans. "you gonna let that thing breathe?" you drag out - hand gripping his wrist so hard you think it would snap - but you knew you weren't exactly that strong... pushing against you, he scoffs. squirming in place as he crosses his meaty arms over his prominent chest... "ㅡyeah, you fucking gave it to me so it's only fair you do something about it, right?" he snarks, visibly flustered yet upholding his cruel, "bad boy" demeanor...

ㅡ"yeah, i'll show you what i can do about that..."

having him bent over the desk so quickly he thought he was daydreaming again. he barely fucking fought you on it - yet he's still the one grumbling. breathless on howㅡ"you feel so fucking gross... y-you..." it was a true wonder how he was still going! such a damn whiner!!! "ㅡdon't fucking touch me there, you idiot." snapping so cruelly at you as you had gently rested your hand on his hip as you aimed... cmon, you deserve a little credit... bullying the bulbous tip of your thick cock past his unused hole you made sure to finger and prod around beforehand - trying to feel for his prostate. he was fluttering around your fingers... and you were imagining what it would feel on your cock, aching and leaking as you imagine before-

you couldn't hold back. you fucking wouldn't-! he deserved a little pain, no? treating you so cruelly, bullying you with those nasty insults about you and your friends... and now look at him. "fucking disgusting... cock... have you any experience? fucking amateur- ah, mmh.." ㅡ hah.. still insulting you, yes - but after a few quick tugs of his own weeping cock in-between his thick, muscular thighs by your nimble hand - he was broken rather quickly. pushing back... burying his ass into your groin and whining breathlessly... a complete contrast. now, this is what you like to see. gently, methodically humping into him, burying your face into his neck - as your hand worms underneath his shirt to grope his titㅡhe gasps so daintily... let's see if he makes any other girly noises that you can then exploit...

"gosh, look at you... fucking eager like a prostitue hungry for money." you grumble nastily into the shell of his ear - gripping his hips that he once smacked your hands away. "is that what you are? do you whore yourself out for damn near anyone?" you were having so much fun... making him a stupid crying mess on your fat cock, taking such pleasure in seeing him shake his head and whine that no, no he wasn't... he just wants you... youyouyouyou- "sure seems like it... seems like you're a goddamn whore you opens her hole to anyone, huh?"

ㅡ"nn-nuh,,, no..!" he looked so good like this... eyes blurry with tears ... clenching on your fat prick stuffed inside him... to think that this was the little freak chewing you out just before-! "m' n-not a p-prostitute... n-not a wh-nh-wh-hore..."

ㅡ"sure seems like it." you tease. pinching his hardened puffy nipple and rubbing it betwixt the pads of your fingers - ugh, the soft slap of your sack against his as you quicken pace of his spit lathered hole making your own hole clench - the feeling of his gummy walls clamping onto your cock trying to keep you inㅡ"sure seems like you're pretty eager for me to fill this womb of yours, huh?" grumbling to yourself, mindlessly - just to fuck with his already fucked out mind. thoughtfully caressing over his abdomen as you fill him up for a moment completely - just to feel a little bulge... the tip of your cock... you experimentally pull back and sure enough... disappearing. reappearing when you fuck into himㅡ

"a-augh, pl-please - ye-es yes, fuckㅡ" babbling straight nonsense... his gummy walls fluttering so deliciously around your prick as tears slip fluidly down his darkened cheeks. something about seeing him sobbing on your cock just made you feel so... alive. after acting so damn bratty and like you're the most vile fucking thing on earth that's ever been in his taut little hole - here he is, acting like a stupid fucking whore begging for you to fill up his nonexistent womb. fucking idiot.

#delinquent yan !! #x male reader #male reader #x top male reader #top male reader #dom male reader #x dom male reader #sub male yandere #bottom male yandere

[coeurify]

LACY, OH LACY

ellie williams.

·˚ ༘ * “like ribbons in your hair, my stomach’s all in knots. you got the one thing that i want."

pairing: ellie williams x f!reader. summary: you’ve got the one thing ellie wants, and it’s rotting her thoughts of you. based on lacy by olivia rodrigo. warning: my first go at true angst, but a happy ending! i took a much sadder direction with the song lol. reader is described as having a father figure. looks of reader never described beside that there’s ribbons in their hair. they/them pronouns used. for a GUTS writing challenge in writing server!

Envy was a nasty thing. Ellie knew that. Ellie knew that the way her lip curled down upon the sight of your frame disappearing into the Tipsy Bison in Jackson was unfair.

Ellie knew that the way her body tensed whenever you were followed quickly by an older man, one who grumbled and wiped at his sleepy eyes, wasn’t fair. The way she turned on her heel and walked away each time she saw you two, the pebbles under the toe of her converse being kicked away, that wasn’t fair either.

But god, did it tie her stomach in tiny little knots, ones that made it hard to swallow, hard to look away when your shining eyes met her’s across the street somedays.

Sometimes, she tries to blame it on sleep. She tells herself the angry feeling bubbling in her stomach is simply a result of the sleepless nights. Of the shaking and panting breaths that shoot from her as she awakes from another never ending nightmare.

But most days, she realizes it’s only an excuse. This sick feeling is reserved only for you, and Ellie wishes she could swallow it down like a shot, but it instead pools in her mouth, poisoning her movements, her thoughts, her everything around you.

When you smile the smile Ellie knew all too well, It only made her feel worse. It shouldn’t, really, Ellie should quirk her lips up in response, wave you over maybe. Joel would have insisted. But lately she just raised a hand in a softer, colder response before finding a new corner to escape down.

Hell, if Joel was here, if things were different, he would have tilted his chin up knowingly when Ellie’s own chin jutted down at the sight of you, her cheeks painted pink with something akin to affection, rather than the near constant shade of frighteningly pale her face seemed to be lately.

He had done so a million times.

When Ellie was only a measly sixteen, telling Joel she just couldn't let you stay the night while Joel and your old man went on a particularly long patrol.

“I barely even know them!” Ellie had fought, her arms crossed over the quickly beating heart in her chest. She knew you, she knew you liked to wear ribbon in your hair, she knew your favorite color was blue because your favorite shoes were that color, and she knew you were pretty. So fucking pretty, the kind that made her stomach turn all mushy and gross when she tried to talk to you over the semi regular shared dinners Joel and a few other older men around town had insisted upon.

Joel just shook his head, seemingly fighting back one of those chuckles that made it sound like he knew something Ellie didn’t. Ellie hated when he did that. “You know them well enough, kid.” was all Joel had responded, patting Ellie’s slumped back.

Joel did it when you coaxed Ellie out of her little garage for dinner inside of Joel’s, a few years later. He would never say anything, not when he could barely get Ellie to say hello anymore, but a look was all that was needed. Green meeting a more tired looking brown for just a split second, and Ellie knew. Joel saw right through the nervous looks Ellie threw your way, saw through how Ellie insisted on totally platonically complimenting you every time you walked through the door. Ellie’s knees were always pointed your way at the table, and Joel always saw.

“They’re pretty,” Joel said later that night, voice careful as he watched Ellie, who watched the dishes she silently cleaned off the table. “Sweet too, too sweet for a hell like this.” Joel could barely finish the words before he heard the creak of the door, before the house was quiet again.

The last time you were brought up, Ellie remembers being cold. She’s often cold now, but the night on the porch was one of the first truly cold nights in Jackson. It stung her nose while she walked outside of the Tipsy Bison, leaving a crowd of shocked faces.

She felt stupid, so stupid that it made the wind feel even icier against her skin. God, why did she have to dance with Dina? Her eyes had been settled on you all fucking night, but Dina was always a firecracker, always tugging Ellie to dance or talk loudly at the bar top. Ellie couldn’t stop heaving as she slammed the door. Did you think they were together too? Did you think Dina was leaning in to kiss her like Seth thought? Dina wasn’t. Ellie wanted to tell you that as soon as Dina’s lips came to her ear, “They’re watching, El.”

But Seth broke the dance before Ellie could. Joel only made it worse in Ellie eyes, and yet you still followed her out the building.

Of course you did.

“Ellie,” she remembers you saying so softly, as if she might break if you had raised your voice even a little. Maybe she would have, she was a fragile thing that night, something easily crushed in your hands. Hands that had been gripped by yours outside the Bar that night.

You were the only one who didn’t look at her like she had two heads after the Seth incident, after her face had gone red at the sight of Joel. Her harsh words to the older man didn’t scare you away, didn’t make you crumble her between your finger tips.

“You should talk to him.” Your breath hit her face, the only warmth in that fucking air, and ellie remembers smelling something that was just as delicate as a pastry, maybe a perfume your father found on a patrol, maybe just you.

You cared. Something Ellie had convinced herself otherwise of, something that didn’t make sense in her mind. Why did you have any worry about she and Joel? How did it concern you at all? But it did, and Ellie listened to you.

Ellie walked up that frosted porch, arms swinging nervously, searching for space on the wooden railing. Ellie let Joel join her, let him ask about you.

“You like them?” Joel’s hands cupped his coffee, his head tilted Ellie’s way.

Ellie remembers so vividly how she turned away, tucking her chin near her shoulder. “I’m so stupid.”

Ellie could see how Joel’s head shook lightly, “You ain’t. They’d be lucky to have you.”

Ellie wishes she answered him that night, wishes she would have sat back on the porch, wishes she didn’t call him an asshole. Ellie wishes a lot of things about that night. Maybe she would have hugged him, if she had known. Maybe she would have started that conversation with forgiveness, rather than a hint of it, thrown at the end of her scrambled words, swallowed by her eyes she willed not to cry.

Ellie wishes for a lot of things, but she knows it’s useless.

Just as useless as avoiding you, now.

You had worn a black ribbon in your hair, the day of Joel’s burial. You had hugged Ellie so tightly, and Ellie almost could feel the heartbeat she swore she lost.

“I’m so sorry,” you had blubbered into her solid frame, and she almost tucked her nose into the skin of your neck, almost let the scent of your perfume calm her. But she just thanked you, pulled back and wiped one of her shaking thumbs over your tear streaked face. She was wiping your tears that day, and somehow it felt like the only right thing to do.

But Ellie remembers that day for another reason. It had been the first day she noticed the sick feeling in her stomach. The first time the hue of pink that always clouded her vision around you was dusted green instead, jealousy clawing at her throat.

She hated it. She hated how she couldn’t look away from where you slumped against your father’s chest. How his hand rubbed your shaking back as his breath puffed out in cold little clouds.

She hated how it reminded her of him.

Ellie stood alone, and watched on, feeling the tightening green branches of whatever awfulness was growing in the pit of her stomach. She cursed whatever it was laying above space, she dug the ball of her feet into the freezing grass and she cursed the earth for leaving her here to have to see this.

She walked home alone that night, shrugging you off with a rather monotone, “Go home, don’t worry about me,” when your eyes met hers in the cold air. She saw how you deflated lightly, saw how your eyes dropped to the ground. It made her feel more nauseous. She swallowed her feelings, the good and the bad, and wrapped her arms around herself as she turned.

That night Ellie veered away from her garage, finding comfort instead on the old couch that sat in Joel’s living room, and she thinks it may be the quietest place she has ever heard. She wonders what you may be doing. Was the creaking of the walls all you heard in your Jackson home too? Surely you hadn’t ripped an old and faded jacket from a closet that did not belong to you to use as a makeshift blanket, like Ellie had.

No, Ellie is sure your father walked close to you all the way home, sure he pulled out the chair at the kitchen table for you and offered you dinner, she’s even sure he had managed to crack a smile from you.

Ellie goes to sleep with a sick stomach.

“You're jealous, that’s natural,” Dina told her a few weeks later, after another stint of that awful green vine rooting itself in Ellie, one that kept her from taking you up on an offer to help clean up Shimmer. The growing seed that made her shake her head at you and offer a small and untruthful, “Don’t need any help.”

Dina handed Ellie a cup of warm tea in the cold garage. Ellie wouldn’t drink it, and she also wouldn’t eat any of the meals the Jackson residents left at her doorstep. But everyone still tried.

“But I shouldn’t be,” Ellie’s voice didn’t sound like her own. It was void of any vibrancy, any spark that Ellie’s tongue usually made. It was empty, spoken coldly. cold for herself, cold for that feeling in her chest.

“You’re grieving, El, it’s ok.”

Dina pressed a kind hand to her shoulder, and despite the way Ellie poisoned you in her mind, she still found herself wishing it was yours instead.

And now, more weeks that all pressed confusingly together had passed. The flower’s outside Joel’s were covered by snow, wilted and drained of life. His house had been empty since Ellie stole some of his old clothes a week back, a jacket that embarrassingly laid on the edge of her chair as she swung open the door of her garage turned home, glancing at another container on her doormat.

It was from you, of course it was. Ellie was sure you had been sent from some sort of heaven she was far too damned to ever access. A small note held your handwriting, and Ellie leaned down, grasping the food, the warmth burning at her frozen fingers.

Maria said she didn't see you at supply day again. I think you’d like this. I remember you eating it a lot at the dinners.

ps. you’re doing great in patrols, glad you went back to them. you’re one of the best jackson has.

xx.

A strand of auburn hair fell across her cheek as her chin dipped down, eyelashes tickling her skin as they closed.

Ellie was avoiding you, you had to have known that. Jesse knew it, Dina knew it, hell, even Tommy had commented on it last time he came by. Sure, Ellie was avoiding nearly everyone still, but it was no secret she turned the corner whenever you and your old man were around.

But here you were, making her food, leaving her notes of praise, complimenting her as if you had any need to. It made Ellie’s always down pointed lip quiver for a moment. You still fucking cared. Just like always.

It didn’t feel nice, it didn’t feel like how it would’ve if she got this note months ago. Then she would’ve clapped a hand over her heated cheek, stuffed it under a notebook like a kid with a crush.

But now, it felt more like an ache. A burning in her chest that made her push the door back open and slide the container on the waiting table near her door.

She should eat it later, that would be the kind thing to do. But the little voice whispers in Ellie’s ear again, the voice that drips poison over the thankfulness blossoming in her chest, ‘You think he helped them make that?’ the voice asked.

The palm of her hand pressed to her eyes as she leaned on the doorway, “Fuck.” Ellie muttered.

She kicked the wood, “Fuck!”

Ellie slammed her already bruised fist on the cracked wood and yelped. The splitting pain broke the girl from her mini temper tantrum, and the empty hand cupped the throbbing skin, a pair of teeth sinking into her bottom lip.

Surely this wasn’t a normal way to react to something so kind, something as simple as food. She didn’t have to overthink every small thing, didn’t have to let her brain flip every positive to a negative, but how does Ellie stop what she has grown so accustomed to?

Ellie’s first attempt to rid her chest of the vines that constricted her ribs was a deep breath and a squeeze of her eyes. She pretends she can smell your perfume still lingering in the air, she imagines your cheeks turned up in a smile, she wonders what color of ribbon you found this week to turn into some new hair tool, and then she exhaled.

Maybe if she thought hard enough, the vines would retreat, the ache on her bones would feel more like the silk of your touch. Maybe she can let herself care more about what you give her, kindness, food, those stupid butterflies she used to feel whenever you spoke, that set of pastel oil paints from a year ago. Rather than letting that voice remind her of all the things you could not give her, things you could not repair.

You hadn’t taken Joel from her, your old man hadn’t either. You having that.. having him, it wouldn’t make any of what Ellie was going through change. She swallowed the truth down like nails as she turned away from the garage.

When Ellie opens her eyes again, her vision seems a little more bright.

By the time Ellie winds up at the stable, she is pressed closely by Dina who tends to Japan, brushing quietly

Ellie breaks the silence first, and it surprises both when the first word from her mouth is your name.

Dina’s gaze shoots over, and Ellie can almost see the thin ice she is debating stepping on, lips parting. You were never an easy topic, and usually when El uttered the syllables of your name, Dina was in for a long and drawn out conversation she never knew truly how to maneuver, the conversation layered with every confusing feeling Ellie had for you. The guilt, the jealousy. Everything in between.

Ellie beats her to speaking again, “They left me food again today. I woke up to it.”

Dina nods slowly, eyes falling back to her horse. “That’s nice of them.”

“It is,” Ellie agrees, flexing her bruising knuckles. “Left a note too, complimenting me and shit.”

The brunette to the side of her pauses for a moment, her boots turning in lightly as she judged her next step. “If you had told me this a year ago, I think you would’ve blabbered for like.. forty minutes about how they were ‘the greatest thing ever to exist’ or convinced me it meant they were in love with you.”

The air is silent, and Dina thinks she may have overstepped.

But the vines have taken on a softer sort of squeezing on Ellie’s chest now, one that felt like the ribbon you wore.

“Yea,” she smiled lightly, and Dina stumbled a bit, maybe out of pure shock. “Yea I probably would have.”

The silence finds them again, though there’s no thickness to it, and Ellie finds her heavy shoulders just slightly less pained for a moment.

Until the stable door swings open, and Ellie watches as Dina’s head turns. She can tell from the look on her face alone, on the way she blinks a few times and glances at Ellie.

You had just walked through.

You walk by where Japan and Shimmer stood, and you smiled like you always did.

This time, Ellie’s chest only tightened lightly. She only felt the small tug of ribbon when she recognized the flannel you had pushed up to your elbows, one she had seen your father wear on patrols many times.

This time, Ellie tries to smile back. She doesn’t let that burn find her stomach, doesn’t let the voice sneer at the clothing and remind Ellie of what she did not have. This time, Ellie speaks instead.

“Thanks for the food.”

You look almost as nervous as Ellie feels. You probably didn’t expect responses by this point.

“Oh it’s no problem,” you shake your head and smile. “Hope you enjoy it.”

Ellie nods, tensing up, useless to decide where this conversation should go, where it could go.

Just as the branches begin to curl around her lungs again, Dina cuts them down with her voice.

“El and I thought about sharing it after patrol today, maybe over some shitty movie. You in?”

The auburn haired girl shoots an aimed look at Dina, but the way you light up and step closer, the way she can smell that pastry scent again, it calms her lightly.

“It’ll be fun,” Ellie offered, voice cracking toward the end.

“Yea,” you smile, toes bouncing like they did when you were excited. Toes covered by your favorite shade of blue shoes. “I’d really like that.”

When you meet Ellie’s eyes, she can see pink instead of green again for the first time.

#ellie williams fic #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams x f!reader #ellie williams x fem reader #ellie williams fanfic #ellie williams angst #ellie williams fluff #ellie williams

[unholyhelbig]

request: oversight au, nat and reader run into reader’s ex or ronnie’s father who was abusive to them… how will mob nat react?

Title: Old Flames [An Oversight Oneshot]

Ship: Female!Reader x Natasha Romanoff

Summary: When reader has an unexpected run-in with an old flame and things go less than well, Natasha takes things into her own hands.

Warnings(PLEASE READ): Talks of past domestic abuse, talks of abortion, buried alive references, broken glass, blood (always), Heights, threatening statements, non-consensual kiss, horrible grammar (aways).

[a/n: Okay, I had way too much fun with this. While I loved writing the main story, it's also super great to branch out into some more dynamics with Mob Boss Nat, because I haven't made her mean enough yet.]

Check out the full Oversight universe

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Part Six | Part Seven

The apartment building on the corner of twelfth and Hawke was a large midcentury brick building that structure that stretched to the sky. A metal fire escape latticed up the side and stretched clotheslines dripping with shirts and pants connected it to the adjacent building that had long since been used for storage.

Up until this point, you had avoided this building. Luckily, the tenants were quite timely with their rent and left little need for an enforcer to knock door to door. But it was right after the holidays and things were tough. That much, you understood. But it didn’t’ change the fact that three units were more than two months behind on their rent.

Them, you could appeal to with hot chocolate and some gentle urging. But according to Clint, there was a particularly nasty group of people living on the top floor that had gotten multiple noise complaints thrown their way.

The address hadn’t seemed familiar until you stood at the entrance and got a good look at the golden door that contrasted the rest of the structure. You’d written the code to the door on your palm, and you were having trouble differentiating the last number. It was a zero, or it was an eight.

“Gross, you’re sweaty.” Kate had pulled your hand a small distance from her scrutinizing stare, trying to read the smeared purple markings. “I knew we should have used the napkin.”

The woman dropped your hand and stepped up to the small box on the side of the entryway. She hit every button known to man until the fragile voice cracked through the speaker. “Yeah, uh-huh, pizza. I have pizza. Pepperoni-“Her ramblings were cut off by the loud buzz in.

You were treated to an innocent smile as she wrenched open the door and allowed you to follow her in. She was innovative, annoyingly so. Most of the time it worked in your favor but sometimes you found her testing your temper just to prove a point. Thankfully, she hadn’t noticed your hesitation.

It was coming back to you now; the large entryway that was lined with lock and key mail slots and a bolstered wooden staircase that was scarcely used compared to the elevator. Natasha kept good care of the place, had repainted and made sure every single lightbulb was humming in synch.

Some would say that she improved the neighborhood, block by block. But there were still those who liked the way things used to be; living paycheck to paycheck with an angry and withering stare being sent your way with each collection call.

“I’ve got Miss Henderson.”

“Oh, come on.” You protested “She sounds so cool.”

Miss Henderson was an older woman who lived on the fifth floor. Most of the time, her rent was late because it had simply slipped her mind. One look at Kate and she’d write a check before offering some of the sweetest cookies you’d ever tasted, often sending her back with a plateful.

From what you had heard, she used to travel with a circus as an acrobatic performer. Her act was death-defying; a performance that relied on her partners quick bladework. The Swordsman and his Enchantress. There were illustrations of their travels hung up around her unit- ones that you would kill to see.

“Too bad, next time.” Kate mock pouted at you before clapping you on the back. “Don’t make too much of a mess up on the top floor, alright? I don’t want to scrub carpets today.”

She took the stairs two at a time and left you alone in the lobby. A cool blast of wind hit your back as a tenant walked in with their dalmatian, pink tongue lolling to the side as his owner checked the mail, barely sparing you a glance.

The type of New York residents that occupied this space had changed greatly. The last time you’d been here was a walk of shame that left your feet raw and bleeding. You’d rushed from the apartment with so much fever that you never returned for your shoes, or your dignity, for that matter.

This time, you had shoes on, ones that you had scrubbed free of blood until they looked presentable. They were leaden on the stairs up to the top floor. Once you reached the fifth, you could hear Kate’s distinctive laugh behind the oak door. At least she was close.

The top floor was nearly silent. You could hear a television, a hockey game that you’d been listening to sparingly on the way over here. It sounded like Toronto was pulling through. The sound of a beer cracking pulled you away from the muffled announcers words.

A radio was resting in an upper window. You and Kate had heard it from the street below, a French Pop station that you could barely make out the words of. French was never your strong suite, one language requirement in high school was enough for you.

Silently, you prayed, that it was a coincidence. That the radio didn’t’ belong to the very men that you were meant to speak to. They were flighty, you told yourself. They weren’t ones to stay and if they chose to stick around after all these years- well, you’d be impressed.

You knocked twice on the center door, the deep forest-green paint threatening to chip under the elements. The music stopped abruptly, and while you could hear that someone was whispering quietly in French, you couldn’t make out the words.

The man that opened the door was too familiar for your liking; his pale waxy skin, his deep brown eyes that were so dark they were almost black, the tattoos that were smattered in different designs against his throat, down his collarbone. Pockmarked on his arms. His hair was longer than you remembered, greasier and tied up in a bun.

He took you in for a singular moment, shock reflecting in his stare, but before he moved to shut the door. You stopped the action with one strong hand, putting your boot between the frame and the wood for extra measure. “Don’t be like that, Kazi.”

“All these years, and now you’re coming back for child support?”

He raked his eyes up and down your body in a way that made you feel violated. You held your stance. He seemed impressed by the bout of strength.

You tsked “if I wanted child support, I would have gone after it by now. Aren’t you going to invite me in?”

He scratched under the sleeve of his tank-top, considering you the same way you considered him. Eventually, he seemed to figure he had nothing to lose pulling the door back and letting you enter the apartment. Waves of memory washed over you.

Kazi still had the same futon covered in the same ratty blanket. There was a kitchen table that was stacked with different folders that he would never, in a million years, let you view. A blue funnel was drying on the dishrack, and countless liquor bottles that had been emptied and cleaned were lined up, ready to be filled with the slightest bit of homebrewed alcohol.

He was still running the same scam after all of these years. You remembered liking the danger about him, the way his stubble felt against you when you straddled him. He’d been so alluring to a good girl like you. He would street race at night with another guy you’d met a handful of times, Robbie Reyes.

God, you had been so naive back then. He was drawn in by your innocence and you were entrapped by his experience. If only you knew where you’d end up in seven years; with Kazi’s biological daughter being raised by the most powerful woman in the city.

The moment you told him you were pregnant, he told you bluntly to get rid of it. That same night, he’d thrown an empty liquor bottle at you, just barely missing your head. You’d refused outright and accepted his anger in turn. Glass shards cut into the soles of your feet, and stained the snow all the way back to your dorm room.

The way he stared at you now infuriated you. “What do you want, then?”

“You’re two months late on rent.”

“I figured you’d keep tabs. Most women do. But my rent? That’s a new one.”

You picked up a small paperweight that you remember being fond of when you returned to this apartment after a first date where Kazi was a perfect gentleman. He’d bought dinner, and walked you back to his place. The glass object was tinted yellow, a small mosquito suspended in the center. He must have gotten it in a museum gift shop.

“Truthfully, I’m shocked you still live here.” You tested the weight of the object. “Most landlords aren’t very lenient about tardiness.”

“Yeah, well. She’s not very attentive. What can I say?”

Oh, but Natasha was quite attentive in more than one aspect, at that. You couldn’t’ help the smile that spread against your lips. Kazi was growing agitated with your presence, always quick to temper.

With all the strength you could muster, you threw the paperweight at the wall directly behind him. In its innate cheapness, it shattered into a million pieces, littering the carpet and slicing little bites into his skin. Kazi flinched and covered his face with his arms.

“Fuck! Y/n, what the hell!” He screamed.

“You have two weeks to backdate the rent, Kazi. Another week to get us this month’s amount. That sounds reasonable to me. Attentive, even.”

He reached into the back of his sweatpants and pulled out a silver Kimber, pumping the top chamber and aiming it at you with a shaky hand. He was too lax with his hold. A pinprick of crimson was dripping from a cut on his cheek.

“Come on, Kazi. It’s not the end of the world. I’m sure you can push some half-rate liquor. Sell a few of your gold fillings, and come up with the money my employer is required.”

“Employer? You work for that… monster?”

“Now, there’s a big word.” You closed the distance between the two of you, not giving him a moment to react before you wrenched the gun from his hand and threw it onto that ratty old blanket that adorned the futon he’d found on the side of the road. “So much horrible implication behind it too. You shouldn’t name call.”

Your boots crunched against the shattered glass. Kazi was barefoot, he flinched as flesh was dug into by uneven shards. You could smell the rancid coffee on his breath. He had a mole just on small of his nose.

“What happened to you?” he whispered, “Where’s that girl that stormed out of my apartment because she didn’t get her way?”

“A lot can change in seven years, Kaz.” You glanced around his apartment. “Well, most people change. Some people don’t go anywhere in life.”

Kazi pressed forward, his dry lips suddenly against yours. You froze in an instant, appalled by the acrid taste of cigarettes and stale morning coffee that he had no-doubt heated up in the microwave and drank black. The kiss was strong, rushed and painful in the way that his teeth knocked against yours.

It took less than a second for you to push him away. His head hit the cabinet behind it, rattling the glasses inside. Your hand was splayed out on his chest, nails digging into the stained tank-top he wore. He grinned wolfishly at you. Your teeth had dug so hard into his lip that it drew blood.

“I like this rough version of you, sweetheart. It’s hot.”

You reeled back and slapped him across the face with as much force as you could muster in your close proximity. The radio in the window seemed to flicker out of power at that moment, or maybe they had just run out of shitty pop music to play. Either way, the two of you were engulfed in silence.

“Shit, baby, hit me again!”

He had no idea how much you wanted to abide by that, though, you were quite positive that it would do nothing but spur on his arousal. This wasn’t going to work. If he kept pushing the way he was, you were afraid you wouldn’t be able to stop yourself from pulling your own weapon.

It suddenly became too much, standing in the middle of this time-capsule of an apartment. The memories were too strong. When the two of you were together, everything you did was for his benefit. And while this had been fun at first, testing him like this, it was too much.

You grabbed the collar of his sweat-soiled shirt, wrapping it around your fingers with enough force to tear the fabric away. “Two weeks, you fucking asshole. If you don’t have the money by then, I’m sure the city will have a fun time scrubbing your brain matter from the sidewalk.”

“I love it when you talk dirty to me.” He sneered.

You pressed your booted foot down on the top of his, listening as the glass dug deeper into the soft skin. This time, he did cry out in pain, the grinding of pieces close to bone making his eyes water. You placed your hand over his mouth, muffling his protest. “I will make your miserable existence a living hell, with or without the money, for what you did to me. Do you understand?”

“You’re so full of shit-“ you pressed your full weight down and you squirmed under your hold. “Yes! Yes, I get it. Fuck!”

You pulled yourself away from Kazi entirely, straightening his shirt. He was slumped against the counter, staring at you with pure rage in his eyes. He shifted his full weight to his other foot, grimacing at the edged stain on the wooden floor.

“You should really clean that up.” You gritted, mouth still tasting of stale smoke. “Glass can be dangerous, Kazimirez.”

By the time you got to the car the only thing on your mind was taking the hottestshower possible. You’d pawed through Kate’s glovebox rather frantically and counted it a small blessing that that there was a single unwrapped piece of gum at the very bottom.

She cringed as you popped it in your mouth and let the minty dusty taste coat your tongue. If you could, without raising suspicion, you would have dumped solvent on it, just to take the taste of Kazi out of your mouth.

“I don’t know how long that’s been in there.” Kate said, watching you warily as you picked up her water bottle and downed half of that too. It seemed to take the rest of the rancid flavor away.

“I don’t care”

“You should care, I bought this car used.” She frowned, tapping her fingers against the wheel. “Okay, I didn’t’ buy it. I bought the license plates though, that’s my civic duty.”

Her words were enough for you to roll your window down and toss the gum from it. Despite your profession, you weren’t a very good liar. Not when it came to Natasha. She’d ask you about your day like usual and you’d crumble under her seemingly innocent gaze.

Nothing Natasha did was innocent.

“What happened up there?” Kate asked.

The two of you were well out of the city by now, and still had about a half-hour until you got to the mansion. The family liked their privacy, and after a year of living there permanently, so did you.

When you didn’t answer right away, she kept going. “Because I got cookies. Nearly choked on one when Miss Henderson insisted on a private show. It’s seriously a wonder that a woman her age can still bend like that.”

“Katie,” You warned, “Gross.”

“Impressive actually. She kept her clothes on, which I am eternally grateful for. It looks like you had a more eventful visit with the French dudes upstairs.” She scoffed, “Who the fuck is French anymore?”

You rolled your eyes and slumped further into your seat. Kazi was French. You used to crumble when he gave you the choppiest lines that he could remember. According to him, the language is harder to speak than it is to read and write. You never questioned him, just like you didn’t question a lot of things.

“I have a… history with the man who rents 807.”

“A history, or a… history?”

“The first one. The second one. Shit- I don’t know, both! He’s Ronnie’s dad.”

Kate slammed on the brakes with enough force for a layer of rubber to be peeled from the tires of her mostly stolen care. The seatbelt cut into your neck and you figured yourself lucky that you’d taken a back road that was rarely used, god forbid she cause an accident.

“Dude!” You shouted as she put the car into park.

Kate twisted her entire body in the seat, placing her hand on the back of your seat. The motor was sputtering wildly, trying to compensate for her abrupt stop. Something had to be damaged, you thought, with her force on the pedal.

“Don’t dude me. Are you really that dense? If you haven’t noticed, Natasha is possessive over her things. And you? Well, you’re one of her favorite things. She’s not going to take this well in the slightest.”

“Kate, I think I know how to handle my girlfriend.”

“No, you know how to handle Natasha, the sweet, loving woman who would die for you and your child. Admirable, really. But you don’t know how to handle Miss Romanoff, mob boss extraordinaire.”

But you had seen Natasha in action before, countless times. She’d always kept this calm coolness about her that you were in awe of. Maybe Kate was right. You’d only seen a fraction of her jealous side at the first party you had ever attended in the house. That night she ripped the dress she’d picked out specifically for you to shreds.  

“I was dating a man named Eli when I was first taken in by the Romanoff’s, He turned out to be… not so favorable despite my constant reassurances. Natasha just knows. She had him dig a grave right off I-25 and then she made him lay in it.”

Your jaw threatened to drop at the simple fact. Kate removed her hand from the back of the seat and eased off the brake before she slowly got the two of you back up to an acceptable speed.

“All Eli did was cheat on me one night in a club. It wasn’t great, but I wasn’t sure if it warranted that kind of reaction. I never knew if she was proving a point to me, or to Eli. Either way, the smallest offense against any of us is met with archaic conviction.”

You didn’t respond to Kate, instead you stared at the trees that were whizzing by in a lush green wall of color. You’d decided that she was right- any type of reaction Natasha was going to have to Kazi would be severe.

“You’ll be fine.” Kate tapped her fingers nervously on the wheel, trying to backtrack her words. “As long as he didn’t’ touch you.”

It didn’t seem to matter how ferociously you scrubbed your skin with the honey scented soap you shared with Natasha, you swore you still smelled like smoke. It clung to your clothes, and lingered in the air after you’d shoved them to the bottom of the clothes basket.

The water was blazingly hot, filling the bathroom with a thick mist that made it slow to breathe. Natasha had chosen a dark blue tile that seemed to transport you into another world. Even without the scaring remembrance of Kazi’s lips against yours, his hands where you didn’t want them, you could stay here for hours.

Her hands were freezing cold and startling as they splayed against your naked stomach. You let out a small noise, going rigid before registering Natasha behind you. Her front was pressed against your back, and you’d know the curve of her body anywhere.

“Izvinite, moya lyubov', I didn’t mean to scare you.”

You turned in her arms and took in the state of her. She’d stripped down just as you had, small drops of water littering her skin like a constellation in the sky. She’d been in the sun today, a smattering of freckles across her cheeks and nose giving her away.

There was a bruise forming against the side of her jaw, one that you ran your waterlogged fingers over. Her eyes were an intoxicating shade of green, playing off the indigo tiles. You wanted to scold her for getting the bruise in the first place, but you were so entrapped by her simple presence, the way she fit so perfectly against you.

Natasha closed the distance between you both, pressing her lips against yours in a hurried kiss. You moaned into the embrace, allowing her tongue to find purchase in your mouth. God- you had missed her in the short few hours you’d been apart.

“Did you take up smoking?” she asked, barely pulling away, the words were spoken flushed to your lips. “It’s a terrible habit, darling.”

The glovebox gum hadn’t done its job, and apparently the swish of mouthwash and subsequent teeth brushing hadn’t done anything either. Of course, Natasha noticed. Of course. You weren’t going to try to hide it, though the thought did occur to you to save some heartache. But you were hoping you could placate her in a less slippery spot of the house when you were less naked and incredibly turned on by her presence.

A groan of a different cadence than she was used to escaped you as you dropped your head to her shoulder and clenched your eyes shut. “No, I didn’t take up smoking.”

“You taste like you have,” She gently led your eyes to hers. It was tender compared to the first time she had done so. “Licking ash trays again?”

“Gross, no.”

Natasha valued honesty above all. That much had been clear from the moment you met her. She’d nearly taken your head off in the gym when you repeated your one-night-stand with the enemy. The devil incarnate who happened to only be decent in bed. You remembered her hand wrapped around your throat, squeezing just enough for you to give her the answers she craved.

“What is it, pet? You can tell me.”

“Do you… I’ve been with men before.”

She let out a small chuckle that reverberated off the deep tile. “Yes, I know. I didn’t want to make assumptions, of course, but Ronnie does have a father.”

The way you stared at her in the silence that followed the statement made the smile on her face falter until it dropped entirely. She must have seen something behind your eyes, something that weighed the situation down more than she was intending on a typical Wednesday night.

“I’d completely blacked it out and didn’t realize it until I stepped foot into the lobby, but he still lives in the same apartment on the top floor. He thought I was after child support, or something but things sort of… escalated.”

You felt like a child, spilling your secrets about a vase you had broken. This time it was a cheap paperweight with a bug in the center that you frankly felt bad for. The words came out like emotional vomit, granted, Natasha had become used to your rapid admissions.

Her grip tightened against your chin, “Escalated how?”

“He kissed me, and I hit him hard enough to break his jaw.”

That same silence enveloped you again. The scalding water had lost its effect, numb and beating against your back. The two of you were still impossibly close and there wasn’t much escape for you in a shower this size. The glass door having fogged up and only giving you a stunted view of the large bathroom.

Natasha had an immeasurable rage behind her stare, her lidded expression ran as dark as old blood. It chilled you to your core. She reached beside you and shut off the constant flow of water. You’d been in here for about an hour now and the cold air that touched your skin felt like an assault of needles. You instinctively wrapped your arms around your center to preserve warmth.

“He laid his hands on you.”

“Yeah, Nat, he did.”

“He touched you.”

“I gave him hell for it, but it didn’t seem like it was enough.”

“Without permission.”

“He’ll never do it again.”

Whatever split-second decision she made; it was done without the usual calculation behind her eyes. She threw the door to the shower open and forcefully shoved a towel into your arms. While you revered in the warmth, you watched as she sauntered in her usual way out of the bathroom and into your shared bedroom. She was dripping wet.

“Natty!” You stumbled over the partition and nearly slid on the bathroom floor. It was much colder outside of your cocoon of warmth and subsequent mist. She thankfully hadn’t left the room and was pawing through her side of the dresser. You nearly lost your footing once you reached hardwood. “Fuck,”

She seemed to find what she was looking for, a plain black tank top that hugged her sides and looked entirely uncomfortable to wiggle into while damp. You watched with baited breath in a sloping towel as she adorned herself with underwear and pants, before turning towards you.

“Get dressed.” She ordered in a dangerous tone.

Shit. She was going to make you dig your own grave. You’d just showered all of the grime from Kazi’s apartment off and in a matter of minutes you would have dirt up to your knees. Natasha may have let Eli live after his blunder, but maybe she’d cover you completely and let you suffocate in your own efforts.

Numbly, you put on a pair of sweatpants and the closest shirt you had. There was no need to get dressed for your own funeral, you supposed. The worms would chew through whatever you wore regardless.

Clint was stretched out on the chase in the foyer, a pair of thick-lensed glasses balancing on the tip of his nose. Regardless, he still squinted at the book in his hands. You wondered why he wasn’t in the living room, but caught a glimpse of a particularly intense game of twister between Ronnie, Yelena, and Kate.

Darcy held onto the board, flicking the small plastic needle and calling out the colors. When Kate clocked the anger in Natasha’s eyes, she dropped to her back, taking down Yelena and Ronnie with her.

She gave you a pleading look, but you were already too far gone to return anything other than a flushed expression. You followed obediently after Natasha. She opened the front door and watched you with a calculated expression before slamming the front door hard enough to shake the glass fronting.

“Get in the car.”

“Do you want me to grab a shovel?”

“What?”

She contemplated this for a minute, growling softly. The near silence was terrifying. Her arms crossed over her chest was terrifying. Your mouth with incredibly dry, and you wished that you were back under the constant stream of water.

“No. I don’t think we’ll need that. Get in the car.”

Numbly, you did as you were told, placing your hands in your lap. This was quite possibly the last time you would be sitting in any car, much less, next to Natasha. She reached across you and pulled your seatbelt into place, tugging on the upper portion until she was sure you weren’t going anywhere.

The tires picked up traction on the gravel and the drive that usually took an hour seemed to whiz by. Natasha was quiet, the route to the city more than familiar by now. She run her hands against the steering wheel until her knuckles were white. You could hear her breathing deeply, trying to ease her nerves. You didn’t dare say a word.

For a moment, you figured that she’d abandoned the idea of burying you alive and switched her ideals to something much more sinister and public. She pulled her car up to the front of the very building you had left a few hours ago, the sun just barely setting behind the skyline. You blinked at her, and then up at the very property that she owned.

“Come on.”

There was no room for discussion. The air here was clouded with the scent of smoke and the coolness of the cement structures around you. It was moments like these where you much preferred the country.

Of course, Natasha knew the code, she had recited it to you earlier as you and Kate ate lunch by the docks, stretched out on the hood of her car. It was wrong then and your nerves were too elevated to pay attention now. She got in without the theatrics.

There seemed to be more activity as the day for working folks began to wind down. Two people halted their conversation by the mail-slots, nodding solemnly at the woman. On the third floor, you caught a glimpse of a woman struggling to push her keys into the lock, juggling her gym bag. The sixth floor held a small boy who darted from one apartment to another, edging across the hall.

She kept climbing until that same irritating French pop filled your ears. He must keep it on at all hours of the day, just to drown out his own miserable thoughts. “What apartment?”

You lifted your chin slightly, hands shoved in the pockets of your sweatpants to ward off the biting chill. “807.”

“Spasibo, lyubimyy.”

Natasha’s booted foot connected with the center of the very door you had politely knocked on earlier in the day. You flinched, covering your face with a guarded arm. The wood of the doorframe seemed to splinter, slivers reigning across both sides of the entrance.

“What the fuck!”

Kazi was hunched over the kitchen table, the funnel that had been drying by the sink was positioned perfectly in the mouth of a soaked and peeled liquor bottle. He had a stack of his own labels ready to place evenly on the finished product. Both of his feet were haphazardly wrapped with gauze, small sprouts of blood worming through the soft material.

He’d taken care to clean up the glass, but with the way Natasha headed straight towards him, that didn’t matter much. More of it fell to the floor and shattered upon impact. She grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and started walking him backwards across the living room. Kazi seemed too stunned to speak, his words caught in his throat.

“I-I-I didn’t mean it! Please!”

“When you speak to me, you’ll do it clearly.” She gritted, shoving him towards the window. Somewhere in the scuffle, the radio had fallen from its perch on the cracked windowsill, crashing to the alleyway below with one last fizzled cry. “You had no trouble saying whatever you wanted earlier, did you?”

“I’m sorry! Fuck! I told that bitch I would have the rent!”

“Yeah? Was that before or after you shoved your tongue down her throat?”

Natasha bent Kazi’s torso fully over the screenless window. He grasped frantically at her hands, clawing at them as the balanced him over the long drop to the pavement below. His bare feet kicked, trying to throw her off her equilibrium, but he was much too weak for any type of damage.

“You walked out on them.”

“What? Oh, my god, what?! I told her to get rid of it- I didn’t walk out on anyone! You’re batshit lady!”

To you, it didn’t’ seem very wise to throw insults at the woman holding you above an eight-story drop, but Kazi never was known for his intelligence. His bravado, maybe, but never anything more. He looked so small compared to Natasha’s anger.

“She didn’t get rid of it, Kazi. She kept the kid that you couldn’t have bothered to give another thought to. She made a life for both of them. She fucking loves that kid enough to fill the absence you left.” Natasha let her hand slip, letting him waver in his height for a moment before pulling him back up. He was crying, sobbing for his life. “And you have the nerve, to touch her, to break her and then come rushing back when she was strong enough to pick up the pieces?”

“I wasn’t ready,” he moaned out “I couldn’t be a dad.”

“It seems like there are a lot of things you can’t do, doesn’t it? You’re a pathetic excuse for a man. A pathetic excuse for a human being and once we leave here- I never want to see your face in my city again. Am I clear?”

Kazi let out another course of intelligible, wet, words. His back was nearly breaking under the force of Natasha’s hold, her knee directly up against his crotch, pushing down with all the strength she could muster.

“Y/n, I think this is a teaching moment, don’t you?”

The softness of her words as she addressed you caught you off guard. There was no malice. In fact, she beckoned to you as if she was calling you into the living room to join her under the blankets for a movie. Your heart raced fast enough for your chest to ache as you closed the distance between you both.

“See, the trick is making them think that you’re going to let them go.”

She said this to you as if Kazi wasn’t a slobbering mess under her touch. He’d carved little half-moon marks against the tops of her hand, some of them starting to leak blood with the sheer force of his struggle.

“You have to get creative with the fear aspect. If they think they’re going to die, it tends to work in our favor. Doesn’t it, Kazi?”

“Please,” He whimpered, “I’ll do whatever you want. I’m sorry, y/n, I’m sorry.”

Natasha did the seemingly impossible, she pushed him further out the window, his calves struggling for purchase against the drywall. “Oh, now that simply won’t do. You must keep her name out of your mouth.”

“In situations like these, darling, it’s best to keep full control. If he was anything other than wretched, then maybe you’d have to worry about him fighting back. You’ll get some people like that, but that trick is having leverage, literal and physical in cases like this.”

“I see,” You let the words escape you in a single breath “and how long do we play this game?”

“Until they know it’s not one.”

It took little effort for Natasha to push Kazi the rest of the way out the window. In spite of his clinging grip, the force of gravity was enough to do the work for her. His cry stunted in his throat and it only took a few seconds for a dull thud to echo through the alleyway, followed by the unmistakable sound of a car alarm going off.

With a small gasp, you leaned over the window yourself, staring down at the white Toyota that now had a sizeable dent in the top, the windshield spiderwebbing. Kazi let out a groan that you could hear from up here, blinking up at the sky with malice and shock in his eyes.

“Nat,” You breathed.

“Please, eight stories is survivable. Some people need to be taught a lesson.” She shrugged, pulling you back into the apartment by the sleeve of your shirt. “I’ll pay for the car repairs, if that makes you feel better, detka.”

“You didn’t have to do this, you know.”

“Of course I did.” She reached forward and cupped both of your cheeks, forcing you to look at her. It was impossible to ignore the gesture, the words that she had said with so much blind passion. Tears threatened to overtake your waterline. “moya lyubov', he put his hands on you without permission and before that… before that he hurt you in ways unimaginable. I meant every word I said.”

You could hear sirens in the distance, a hazard of living in the city. They could be for Kazi, you supposed, something to take care of the surely broken ribs and the bruised ego. But, they could be for something more important.

You pushed forward and kissed Natasha delicately. You wanted to be impossibly close to her. Most gestures you had received in the past had come in the form of flowers, maybe the occasional box of chocolate from the drug store. Once again- Natasha had proved something to you.

Her chuckle vibrated into the kiss, “Mm, we should probably leave.”

You couldn’t agree more. You wanted to get out of this stupid apartment that was teeming with memories of your time with Kazi. The way he claimed his love for you, and forced you to make a horrible decision all in one exhale.

As the two of you walked down the long and winding steps, Natasha asked, “What was with the shovel thing?”

You laughed, suddenly feeling foolish for fearing Natasha in the first place. Her silence caused waves, and somehow, that was worse than if she’d threatened you outright, something that she never did with much heat.

“Kate, she told me about her ex-boyfriend, Eli, I think she said his name was.”

“Ah, Eli.” She frowned, “He cheated on her, and I only made him dig for an hour.”

“You don’t have to justify yourself to me, as long as you never make me dig my own grave.”

 “I would never do that. There is no punishment in things you can’t control.” Natasha gave your hand a squeeze, her solemn words punctuated with a slowly creeping smile. “Besides, detka, that’s simply not my style. It was much too messy.”

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#Natasha Romanoff #Natasha Romanov #Natasha Romanoff x reader #Natasha Romanoff x y/n #Natasha ROmanoff x you #Natasha Romanov x y/n #Natasha Romanov x you #Natasha Romanov x reader #Mafia au #Yelena Belova #Kate Bishop #Clint Barton #Reader insert #request

[imagineredwood]

Group HC - The Boys reactions to getting caught stealing your panties 👙

I know. I know. It’s terrible and gross and icky I KNOW 😭😭 but I saw HCs for another shows characters around this idea and I couldn’t get it out of my head and it triggered the memory that this is actually canon for Juice and…yeah. Here we are 🧍🏻‍♀️

He’s not sorry. Or embarrassed. He loves you, loves everything about you. He thinks you’re the best thing since sliced bread. He worships you and the ground beneath your feet. So why wouldn’t he steal your panties? They’re yours, and they rest against his most favorite part of you all day 🤷🏻‍♀️ He won’t apologize, not even when your face heats up and you cover it with both hands. On the contrary, he probably makes a show of taking one out of the secret pile and sniffing it. He’s nasty, and he knows regardless of how you feel about it, you know he does it out of love and devotion. So he’s ok with it. And he’s not gonna stop.

He’s ashamed. He knew he shouldn’t have done it. Felt weird and invasive, but he couldn’t help it. He just loves you so much, and he gets lonely when you’re apart, and it smells like you. What else was he supposed to do? He would never cheat, would never even dream of it. But the stress of the club gets to him, especially the more complicated things get, he just needs comfort and relief, and when he saw them laying there in the hamper, he snagged it without thinking. Then he couldn’t stop, even when he knew he should. Even goes as far as offering to take apart the washer saying that maybe the machine is eating them 👀 He apologizes, cheeks tinted red, eyes downcast and hopes you don’t hold it against him. He’ll ask before he takes them next time, scouts honor.

Like Angel, he’s not embarrassed. He just shrugs, telling you that you’re his girl and your pussy is his, so why can’t he just take them? 🙄 He buys you new pairs every now and then anyway. So he wants to smell you randomly throughout the day, whats the harm in that? He just misses you. And likes to look at the pair and reminisce about times he’s taken them off of you. Is that a crime? He even reaches into his kutte and pulls out the pair that he’s kept on him today to show that it’s no big deal, and they’re the ones from yesterday, you recognize.

He’s bashful, arguably, but not necessarily embarrassed. It’s more about getting caught than it is the actual act. Like a kid with his hand in the cookie jar. He’s not sorry for taking them, he’s just sorry that it’s kinda awkward for you to find the stash. He laughs awkwardly, shrugging it off or trying to anyway. Explains that he just rarely gets time to himself, so he is uses them when he’s alone in Templo to get his mind right. That your scent calms him and helps his focus. He didn’t think you’d mind too much, he just also never expected you to find out.

He's not sorry in the slightest and he makes sure you know it too. He bought every pair anyway, what's the issue? He could buy you 30 pairs by lunch 🙄 He wasn't up from about it, no, but he also didn't necessarily hide it. It just wasn't entirely in the open. You're respectful and don't go through his stuff in his office so how would you have known he had an entire drawer of his desk with them all collected in there? You'll get over it, a few new lingerie sets will make sure of that.

The OG of panty stealing and sniffing himself. It’s canon after all. He just can’t help himself. You’re his moon and stars and he just can’t get enough of you. Even when you’re perched in his lap, cockwarming him, face nuzzled in the crook of his neck, it’s not enough. He needs to be in your skin. But he can’t. So stealing your panties is the next best thing. It’s a compulsion he can’t fight. God knows he’s tried. And he tells you as much. Lists all of the things he did first to try and not have to submit to that desire. But in the end it didn’t matter. He just needs to have your most intimate article with him at all times. Keeps He doesn’t want you to think he’s a freak but he also just need you to know how much he absolutely loves, adores, and worships you. He’ll even hand over the pair in his pocket if you ask him to.

He's nonchalant about it. It's just panties. You have a bunch more. Not like you were gonna miss them or something. He just loves you and likes to have something of yours that he can keep nearby when he misses you. One in his pocket, one in the sale bag of his bike tucked away hidden. His stash is dispersed, not because he was necessarily hiding them, but because there's one each place that will serve a purpose.

Also not embarrassed. Hits you with that famous smirk, his shoulders shrugging as you stare at him waiting for an answer. "Just miss you sometimes, Darlin'. Just somethin' to get me by." Like it's perfectly normal. He left you your favorite pairs after all. He only takes the ones you're not the biggest fan of, so you wouldn't notice as quickly. It's not a big deal, he can give them back. Sometimes he just needs to sit in the chapel with them over his face while he strokes himself before Church so he can make sure he has a level head before this important vote.

General taglist

@piccasoe @ateliefloresdaprimavera @gemini0410 @woahitslucyylu @my-rosegold-soul @that-chick212 @everyhowlmarksthedead @glimmerglittergirl  @fanaticfangurl21 @encounterthepast  @svintsandghosts @starrynite7114   @destynelseclipsa  @queenbeered @iamthegraham @emoengelfurleben  @otomefromtheheart @rosieposie0624 @papa-geralt-of-cirilla @beeroses @weirdosandhopelessromantics @kola95 @black-repunzel99 @xonickibaby @cruzwalters @myakai13 @mrsstevenbuchananstark @lyly00 @kaystacks17 @cole-winchester  @alexxavicry  @savagemickey03  @fanfic-n-tabulous   @choochoo284 @xbloodyxangelx @carma-fanficaddict @gillysoldlady

Mayans MC taglist

@dazzledamazon​  @abunnykisses​ @briana-mishell24​  @wrcn9fvlcver​  @thesandbeneathmytoes​ @krysiewithak​  @appropriate-writers-name​  @blessedboo​  @megapeacelovemusic-blog​ @emoengelfurleben​ @blowmymbackout​ @abby-splace​ @kola95​ @black-repunzel99​ @redpoodlern​  @myakai13​

@cruzwalters​  @danimals1096 @po3ticb3auty​ @lyly00​ @im-just-a-mississippi-girl​  @angel-121​ @fanfic-n-tabulous​ @90sisthenew80s​ @lovelytricia @librarian1002

#sons of anarchy #mayans mc #ez reyes #angel reyes #juice ortiz #manny mayans mc #jax teller #bishop losa #jax teller x reader #angel reyes x reader #ez reyes x reader #bishop losa x reader #manny x reader #juice ortiz x reader #miguel galindo #miguel galindo x reader #group hcs #headcannons #headcanons #samcro

[fredwkong]

The Boxers

Sometimes, the perfect life just finds you, bruh.

I used to be a pretty normal guy. Wait, scratch that, I was a total fuckin’ nerd. I spent all my time playin’ video games and readin’ fantasy books and shit. I was getting a degree in computer science, so I spent all my time alone, coding shitty apps and nerding out on Reddit.

I had, like, no sex life, lmao. I was a weedy little Indian geek, bro, you know the type, right? I had negative game. Every weekend, I’d spend all night playing WoW or whatever, then go to bed and fantasise about how many bros I’d get once I was, like, CEO of a multibillion dollar startup.

I guess the universe looked at me one day and said, “Why wait, bro?”

I got back to my dorm one night and these, like, gross boxers were sitting right on my floor. I remember I thought they were totally lame, because they had the Sriracha logo all over them. “Who wears those but nasty frat boys?” I thought to myself. Huhuhu, little did the old me know.

Anyway, these boxers were totally messing up the vibes of my dorm. I used to be such a neat freak, bro. A place for everything, and everything in its place. A smelly, used pair of boxers made my skin crawl. So, obvi, I went to pick them up with two of my slim little fingers and toss them in the trash. I figured it was some kind of gross prank on me.

Once I’d picked ‘em up, I could see exactly how dirty those boxers were. The legs were stiff with layers of musky sweat, the smell wafting off them strong enough to make my eyes water. There were a couple of grease stains on them, like some dude had eaten dinner in just his undies. The crotch was crusty, too. Someone, maybe multiple someones, had cum in these boxers.

I remember wondering why the thought got me hard.

Rather than taking the Sriracha boxers to the trash like I’d planned, I found myself giving them a second sniff, and then a third. Goddamn, they were fuckin’ gross, bro. I thought it was just my disgust making me smell them over and over again. Like I was trying to figure out exactly what had gotten on them.

Before long, I was palming my lil cock through my slacks, holding the boxers close to my face with my other hand. It was, like, a total head rush every time I took another sniff. Like I could feel my brain blanking out as I took more and more of the musky stench into me. Not that I knew that was what was actually happening, huhuhu.

When I stripped off my pants and undies to jerk off better, I suddenly had an awesome idea. I could, like, wear the Sriracha boxers and jerk off in them. My brain was already at least halfway transformed by then, lol. I was definitely no nerd at that point. The idea of wearing another guy’s musky boxers got me so fuckin’ turned on.

I pulled the boxers up my skinny brown legs. They hung on my hip bones, barely able to stay on. I laid down on my bed and felt my rock hard cock through the crusty fabric. It was like I could feel the cum and sweat of everyone who’d ever worn that underwear seeping into my skin as I massaged drops of precum out of my balls.

As I writhed on my sheets, lost in pleasure, my skinny Indian body started to change. It started with my feet, which cracked and stretched as they grew big and thick. They started to sweat, a funky foot musk joining the renewed stench of the Sriracha boxers, which were getting super wet with my precum. It was like the brown leached out of my skin with my musky foot sweat, too, as my big feet got all pale.

The change continued up my bare calves, which got super hairy as the muscles flexed and swelled. My legs lengthened as huge quads and hammies swelled up under my whitening skin. God, said my musk-addled mind, I love leg day. I started to flex and wiggle my bulky thighs, feeling the muscles stimulate my growing prostate.

I let out a high pitched little bitchboy moan as my ass inflated with juicy muscle and fat, but I knew that my voice wouldn’t sound like that for much longer. I’d totally embraced the transformation as my cock and balls filled out the pouch of the boxers. They were no longer, like, loose and shit. My fat ass and big bro cock were stretching the sweaty fabric to its limits, bro!

My chest followed, going from slim to bulky so fast that all the buttons on my nerd shirt hit the ceiling. Sweat instantly started to roll off my furry new pecs, and I ran my soft little hand up and down my thick, firm belly and flexed the solid abs I knew were underneath the fat. More than the boxers and the smell, my body was starting to turn me on, bruh. I was becoming, like, a total frat god.

The curly brown hair that grew in my armpits smelled sooooo good as sweat started to drip off it. I totally buried my little nerd face in my own pits and licked up my sweat as I watched my arms bulk up and get all pale and hairy. It was so hot flexing my bicep and watching it bulk up before my eyes, dude! I felt my hand grow as I tugged my big jock cock in the Sriracha boxers, thickening up and getting some hard-earned weightlifting calluses.

The last thing to change was my head. My moans got deeper, slower, and totally dumb-sounding as my neck thickened. A thick brown beard grew on my cheeks, framing my cheesy dumb smile perfectly. My nose cracked and grew into a big ol’ sniffer, even more sensitive than my old nose so I can really take in my bros’ musk.

My old black buzzcut grew out into a curly brown mane, totally greasy from all the sweat I soak it with when I work out, huhuhu. As my forehead got all pale and my eyes turned blue, I felt my cock go over the edge, and I came right into the Sriracha boxers. Pump after pump of musky frat bro cream, taking my old self with it to impregnate the boxers with even more fratty juice. As the room filled with the smell of my thick load, I totally passed out.

The next morning, I woke up in an unfamiliar room. I was in a big bed with musky, sweat-stained sheets, a bunch of stale, unwashed gym gear all over the floor. I was still wearing the Sriracha boxers, my cum caked into the stain along with all the other bros’, along with a cap that I turned backwards as I sat up. I pulled on a tank without too many sweat stains on it and went to explore.

Turned out I lived at the Mu Upsilon Sigma frat house now. The whole place smelled like a sweaty armpit, and it was full of musky bros who were more than happy for me to get all up in their smelly pits and cracks.

I wore the Sriracha boxers for a couple days. Honestly, I dunno how long, I usually only change my boxers like once a month, huhuhu. I worked out, jerked off, got drunk, got fucked, and jerked off some more, all while wearing those boxers. Then I left ‘em in some nerd’s dorm as a prank, huhu.

It was so hot to watch the lil Japanese guy get as zonked out on the musky boxers like I had, bro. We hid in his closet and watched while he jerked off and turned into another musky white frat boy like us, then carried him to the MYS house once he passed out.

It’s been a couple weeks since then, and MYS membership has only grown, bruh! Each bro wears the Sriracha boxers for a few days, adds his personal touch to the, like, seasoning, and then we pass ‘em on to another nerd and induct him into frat life! Maybe some night soon, you’ll see these bad boys in your dorm, huhuhu. Life's perfect in the frat, bro!

#male transformation #mental change #muscle tf #male tf #dumber tf #race change #musk tf #white tf #fratification #broification #mu upsilon sigma #all fwkong

[xxsugarbones]

WORKING OUT WITH TOJI F.

-just joining your big beefy boyfriend Toji for his workout routine 💕

inspired by @starzu’s “Exercising with your boyfriend” fic found v

cw - fem!reader, plus size!reader, Toji is a real stinky boy but you love it, you sniff him (ya lil nasty), exercising (he’s doing push-ups, you sit on his back), biting, Toji folds you like a pretzel at the end, everything is recorded (consensual)

wc - 1.3k

|| an - Y’all I haven’t even watched JJK yet but I am so feral for Toji it’s not even funny. I love me a deadbeat dead man who could throw me around like a ragdoll if he so pleases 😩

Thinking about exercising with Toji.

He’s doing push-ups in the middle of the living room, all the furniture pushed off to the sides to make room for his bulky body, and a small tripod set up on the coffee table, his phone recording his workout routine so he could watch it back later and decide what he needed to improve on.

You were his good little cheerleader, sitting your plump frame on his broad back, your legs crossed and your hands resting on his shoulders.

At first you’d been hesitant to sit on his back because you were afraid you were too heavy for him, but he had assured you that it would be a good workout for him, that your “pretty little body” would be the perfect weights for him. So, like a good girl, you’d agreed so he didnt have to go dig out his actual weights. (Plus, you would have to be the one to lift them and put them on his back, and you knew very well that would not be a possibility, considering just how heavy they were.) And honestly, it shouldn’t have surprised you that he proceeded with no trouble at all.

He’s been at it for about half an hour now, occasionally taking little breaks by laying on the floor, while you shifted yourself back to straddle his thighs to give him a chance to breathe.

But it wasn’t ever too long before he got back into it, telling you to “sit your pretty ass back down on my back”.

“You got this baby! Doing so well!” You cheered on, leaning down again to rest your hands on his shoulders. His neck and shoulders were damp with sweat, his muscle tank clinging to his skin and loose strands of hair hanging in front of his eyes. He kept his sharp, green eyes focused on the ground, just trying his best to even out his breathing and keep himself in line, but it was getting very difficult with the feeling of your body weight and heat sitting atop him. But he stopped, lowering himself down flat to the ground when you tapped his shoulder three times.

“Lemme try something.” You started. You didn’t get much of a response other than a grunt from the man, who just wanted to continue his workout now that he was in the thick of it. You took that as your cue, shifting your body into a different position. Now you lay down on his back, stomach and chest against his toned muscles, and your arms wrapped around his slutty slim waist, and your nose nuzzled into his neck with a smile on your lips.

‘’m all sweaty, babe, don’t do that.” He huffed, but didn’t say much else as he once again started his push-ups, feeling you smile into his sweaty skin. This was much more comfortable for you. He grumbled out something about you being ‘gross’, which only made you laugh in response.

“But you smell good!”

“I stink.”

“I like you stinky.” Was your response, your hands sliding up underneath the hem of his tank and feeling his sweaty abs. A combined shiver ran through the both of you at the contact- your cool hands against his warm flesh, and he muffled a soft groan by sinking his teeth into his lower lip. You smiled, nose brushing along the tense muscles in his neck and just to prove your point, you tucked your head just beneath his jawline, and took a deep inhale.

“You’re real gross, princess.” He scoffed, glancing at you out of the corner of his eye as best he could but really only catching a glimpse of the top of your head. You laughed, pressing a kiss to the juncture between his neck and shoulder, and humming against the warm skin.

“Yeah but you love it.” You shot back, hands continuing to move around his body. One slid up his abs, moving further and further up his body until it hovered above his chest, the palm of your hand brushing against his nipple and making him tense again. You grinned, gently twisting and tugging at it.

“Gotta stay focused, baby, not much longer now and you’re done.” You teased, moving your lips to his neck again, your teeth ever so softly digging down into the skin, making a point to scrape your sharp canine teeth into the muscle. The groan you managed to rip from Toji was heavenly, and he could feel his already semi-hard cock twitching to life the longer your teeth were sunk into him.

“Playing a dangerous game there.” He hissed, but you paid no mind, just biting down a little harder. Suddenly, in the blink of an eye, he had flipped your position. He rolled you over so your soft body hit the carpet with a soft ‘thump!’, and he quickly shifted his body above yours so he was pinning you down to the ground, one of his massive hands grabbing both of your wrists and pinning them above your head.

“Toji!” You squeaked, looking up to the taller man with widened eyes, and your thick thighs squeezing together at the sexual tension between the two of you that you were suddenly hyper aware of. Toji’s free hand grabbed onto one of your thighs, yanking it open and holding the underside as he hurled it up and over his shoulder, the heel of your foot digging into the back you had just been laying on not even minutes before.

“Nu-uh, princess, don’t act all shy now when you’ve been actin’ needy this entire fuckin’ time.” He moved his hips forward, pressing his hips against yours, finally making you aware of the little problem you’d caused him during his workout. You whimpered, rolling your hips upwards to grind against him, making Toji sneer, looking down to where your hips connected.

“How ‘bout we do a little workout together, huh?” He started, letting go of your wrists to grab onto your other thigh, hoisting it up onto his other shoulder. Your hips were up and off the ground now, and he leaned his body weight forward, pressing down into you so your thighs pressed against the swell of your stomach and chest. The angle ever so slightly constricted your breathing, but you’d be lying if you said that it didn’t make your brain fuzzy with the excitement for what was about to happen.

“You’re gon’ stretch your muscles for me, and I’m gonna fuck this pretty fuckin’ pussy.” He proposed, his hands smoothing down your thigh to push away the oversized shirt you had stolen from him (despite being a bigger girl, his shirts were still big on you, something drool-worthy), letting it roll up your body to expose your plush stomach, then making his way down to tug at your panties, pulling them flush against your pussy, and moaning at the sight of the wet patch that slowly soaked through the thin fabric. You whined, bucking your hips up towards his face.

“L-Like yoga?”

“Yeah, somethin’ like that.” Toji chuckled, leaning down to press a kiss to your clit through your panties. You whined again, grappling onto the carpet beneath you as he pulled the fabric aside, then used his other hand to quickly pull down his sweatpants and boxers in one swift movement.

“Just keep these gorgeous legs up for me and we won’t have a problem.”

-

By the time you two were finished, Toji had to safely tuck that little video of his “workout” into his ‘HIDDEN’ album in his camera roll. But if you ask him, it was a pretty damn good workout.

#toji fushiguro x reader #toji x reader #toji x chubby reader #toji smut #jjk x chubby reader #jjk imagines #chubby reader #i really need to watch jjk #💀

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

too many teens whining for validation, this blog needs more weird and stupid so...

AITA for kidnapping my friend and trapping her in the cheesebarn?

Hear me out:

The story starts about a week before my (20 at the time ftm) 21st birthday. If you live in the US you know this isnt just some lame 7th birthday or 36th birthday, this is one of the big boy birthdays, the special ones. Its when you can legal buy alcohol and are therefore truly an adult in the eyes of the law.

Naturally my friends (20s) wanted to do something Big for our 21sts. So they asked me what i wanted to do and i said i didnt really care as long as I got a road trip somewhere with friends.

Everyone thought it was a fun idea but it was a little short notice for everyone to get time off from work, but my other friend we will call C also had her 21st exactly a month after mine to the day, and the two of us agreed to share our 21sts and not do much of anything on my actual birthday. This is important, bc it was a SHARED birthday road trip.

I agree to let C pick the destination and I provide the car. We didnt have much of a plan as we were going to meet up with C's old roommate who lives in the city we picked to show us a good time.

It was 5 of us total and about a 7 hour drive altogether there with not a whole lot on the way there. We get to the city she picked and meet the roommate and honestly the rest of this part is just standard 21st birthday shenanigans. Its when we start the drive home things really start.

Remember its a long drive with not much to see? Well that was a lie. On our way back we see it, the Real "Happiest Place on Earth" as far as places with a mouse for a mascot go:

Grandpa's.

Fuckin'.

Cheesebarn.

Obviously me and the other people on the trip want to stop and see the magic, but unfucking fortunately C happens to be the only Basic White Girl ™️ in the entire world who hates cheese and isnt even lactose intolerant. This girl is notorious for making "petty" and "I hate Cheese" her entire personality. She would constantly make faces and gagging noises and talk about how gross and nasty cheese is if you so much as eat a grilt cheese near her.

Clearly she made it known that she wasnt on board with it. "NO! FUCK YOU ALL IM NOT GOING TO A PLACE CALLED A CHEESEBARN ON MY BIRTHDAY!!" were her exact words.

But i remembered i was driving, it was my car, and it was supposed to be my birthday too. So I put it to a vote. "Raise your hand if you wanna go to Grandpa's Cheesebarn!"

All hands raise but one. With C out voted we head to the cheesebarn.

Guys. This place is amazing. Its obviously making cheese its main draw, but yhere's so much more, its every shitty midwest tourist trap rolled into one glorious place. There's even a chocolate shop. We even got C's roommate to ditch work and come meet us bc shr heard "Grandpa's Cheesebarn" and knew she had to drop everything.

All in all a good visit, C even seemed like she had fun once we got there (she sure spent $300 on candies and dip mixes anyway). We go home. Things seem fine.

Then C drops off the face of the earth.

She wont respond to our calls or texts and at first we thought maybe she was giing through a rough patch or something and try to just keep reaching out but give her space. But then we find out that not only is she still hanging our with our other friends who couldnt make the trip with us. So clearly she's just pissed at us about something.

Finally one day a few months later i catch her at her job and just tell her "I dont care if you hate us, we'll never speak to you again if you dont want us to, but what the hell did we do to you??"

And she just looked me over and says "Well. You kidnapped me."

lolwut

And she yells (bc this girl loves yelling at people) "YOU KIDNAPPED ME AND TRAPPED ME AT A CHEESEBARN ON. MY. BIRTHDAY!!!!!"

And i just said "Well it was my birthday too," and havent spoken to her since. Its been over a decade and "No ragrets" as we said back in the day, but uts baffled me for years that that was her reaction. "Im just over you guys" i can understand, and its not like she was shy about telling people she hates them and their out of her life ever before. And from what i ended up hearing from our other friends she kept talking with it really was about the cheesebarn and how we "ruined her birthday".

No but srsly AITA??? For making her go to a cheesebarn???

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

[ghoulfuckersincorporated]

Prewar!Cooper told Barb that one of his favorite things about her was the fact that she always tries to do the right thing. The Ghoul is entertained by Lucy's "goody two-shoes" thing, at first, but is clearly very deeply impacted by the kindness that she shows him outside the Super Duper Mart.

Cooper Howard obviously likes good girls...corruption kink, anyone?

Prewar!Cooper would be sweet about it, even gentlemanly. He'd be respectful, slowly warming you up to all these ideas that you've never even heard of before. Of course, you trust him implicitly, and you're happy to go where he guides you. He would get a sense of the things you're into, what your boundaries are, but once he knew you well enough, he might start to nudge you in certain directions.

Taking you for a drive, his hand on your thigh slowly slipping higher until he's rubbing you through your underwear as you go along, working you up to an orgasm at a red light in full public view, completely aware that everyone can tell what's happening. Going for a long walk in a nice park and pulling you into the bushes for "a few smooches" that turn into you deep-throating his cock until you almost pass out. Pushing you into poorly soundproofed closets at fancy parties to turn you into a squealing mess on the end of his cock, too loud for others to not hear. It's all so addictive and you're powerless to stop yourself from giving into him wherever and whenever, slowly turning you into a little exhibitionist because he thinks it's hot.

"Oh, I know how much you like this, sweetheart...what if I tried this? Does that feel good? Sure seems like it does. You don't have to be embarrassed. I'll take care of you. You trust me, right, baby doll?"

The Ghoul would be...meaner. He's more the "don't ask for permission; beg for forgiveness" type, but without the begging part. He'd just go for things, watching in almost sadistic glee as your face would morph from shock to disgust to ashamed arousal. You would be able to sense something different in the air, but you never see his dirty tricks coming. Does this stop you from continuing to sleep with him as you trek the West together? Of course not. As much as you might hate him a little (or a lot) for it, he knows exactly what makes you tremble and beg for more, even as your face reddens and you struggle to look at him.

Sliding his tongue back to tease your asshole when he's eating you out like a man starved, laughing wickedly and holding your hands away when you try to stop him because 'That's so gross!', but soon your protests turn to wanton moans. Hell, sliding his thumb into your ass as he fucks you from behind, using the leverage to bounce you harder on his hips, the sensation amazing despite how humiliating it feels. The next time he fucks you that way, you whimper out a little plea for him to do it again. Making you beg him to spit in your mouth as you near your orgasm until he no longer has to prompt you, you simply open your mouth. He gets off on getting you to request (or even beg for) disgusting treatment.

"Oh, did you not like that? With the way this greedy little cunt is reacting, I'd say you liked it. I mean...if you didn't, I suppose I can quit. Hmm? You want me to keep doing it? What a nasty little freak, gettin' off on this. Maybe if you ask pretty, darlin'..."

#cooper howard #the ghoul #cooper howard smut #prewar!cooper howard #cooper howard x reader #cooper howard x you #ghoulcy #vaultghoul #fallout tv show #fallout prime #corruption k!nk

[lihhelsing]

Part 5 - Catfish Steddie

You can also read it on AO3!

Eddie isn’t sure how many doubles he pulled in the past week, but he’s not too interested in counting, anyway. He just needs to keep himself busy. Just busy enough. 

He’s also trying to stay out of the house as much as he can because he can’t seem to find it in him to face Gareth. Not right now. 

Not when Gareth was fucking right. 

He didn’t say it to be mean, Edie knows it, but in all the time they’ve known each other, nerdy, weird Eddie was never the one to get the attention of guys built like a Greek god and Gareth had been wary of it from the beginning. 

Eddie couldn’t even get himself to tell him about the catfish because, in the end, he managed to get a date with Steve, and what Gareth didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him, right? 

But the joke’s on Eddie because he’s the one who ended up hurt. 

So yeah, maybe he’s been doing that avoidance thing that annoyed Gareth ever since middle school when Eddie would pretend to not be interested in playing with Max Steel anymore just because he had broken Gareth’s favorite figure and couldn’t find a way to tell him. 

Eddie can be a real piece of work sometimes and he knows that all too well. Gareth knows it too and it is beyond Eddie to understand why does he still put up with his shit after so many years, but after some nasty fights where Gareth had to yell at Eddie to believe he fucking likes him and is definitely sticking around and that Eddie needs to drop that shitty way of acting, Eddie prefers not to say anything.

He’s also aware Gareth can tell something is up and that he’s on borrowed time but that’s for future Eddie to worry about. 

The good thing is that the bar keeps him busy. He's always making a drink or another, cleaning something up and when there are no clients, Eddie can just let the music take over. Let his brain swim in the blissfulness of loud, angry music. 

"Can I get a vodka soda?" Eddie is nodding before he even looks at the person, his body moving with the familiarity of the bar work. 

He grabs the vodka with one hand and twists it around just to show off. His other hand is already filling a glass with ice cubes. Then it's alcohol, measured to be sure, soda, and a half lime wedge at the rim of the glass. 

It's as easy as breathing and it feels good to do something that doesn't involve thinking. 

"Here you go," he slides the glass in front of his customer and it's the first time he looks at her. She has short, brown hair and is looking straight at Eddie, not moving to get her drink. 

"Thanks, Eddie."

He frowns for a second. Doesn't remember telling her his name. Doesn't remember seeing her before, but at the same time, her face looks familiar. 

"Did you need anything else?"

Maybe she asked for another drink and Eddie didn't hear. His mind isn't the most reliable lately, hence why he can't quite place where he knows her from. Maybe she's a regular at the bar and Eddie has just forgotten about it? 

"When's your break?" she asks and oh. Oh, no. Can't she tell Eddie would prefer to suck face with any one of the other patrons that aren't a woman? 

"Sorry. I don't, uh, mess around with paying customers," he says even though he followed a few cute boys out through the back door for sloppy hand-jobs and messy kisses. 

Her frown deepens and Eddie thinks maybe he offended her. He tried letting her down easy but maybe-

"Uh, first of all, gross. Second of all, I just want to talk. Please."

Something isn't adding up. "Do I know you?"

She offers her hand as if she's in an indie movie and she's the edgy main character. Eddie doesn't take it but it doesn't seem to bother her. 

"I thought you knew. I'm Robin Buckley. Steve's roommate."

Oh, fuck. 

x

Eddie feels like he needs a cigarette even though he hasn't smoked in ages. He tends to stay with just weed for most of the time, but this situation right now is so fucked up it calls for one. 

He wonders if he should tell her he's going to 7/11 to get one but he realizes he's just stalling. He doesn't particularly want to hear what she has to say but he couldn't find it in himself to say no. 

Steve tried calling a few times but he gave up once it was clear Eddie wasn't picking up the phone. He wonders if Steve sent her. 

"I have 15 minutes and I was really counting on a nap during my break so make this quick," his voice comes out harsher than usual and Eddie's not mad about it. Maybe if he can put on a hard front she and Steve will leave him alone. 

Eddie's brain has been trying to trick him into believing Steve really didn't have anything to do with the catfish thing, but it just doesn't add up. He spent way too many nights awake thinking about Steve laughing at his expense, at how dumb he was for falling for the thing not once but twice. 

He just wants to move on, forget all about Steve and about how stupid he was to fall for his game. 

"You're bitchier than I remember," she shakes her head as if she can't believe it and Eddie frowns again. He really doesn't remember her. "Guess you're just not that bitchy when it comes to pretty boys, huh."

It takes a second for Eddie's brain to get the message but then…

"You."

She nods and even though she sounds playful as if all of this is nothing more than a joke her face is pinched up. 

"Guilty. Sorry about that, by the way."

Now Eddie is sure Steve sent her and he really doesn't want to hear whatever excuse he has for this. He doesn't even understand what's their goal here. Do they want Eddie to forgive them just so they can feel better about themselves?

"Tell Steve I don't need any apologies. You both can just forget it and leave me alone."

He hopes he doesn't sound too pathetic because he sure feels like it. But Robin doesn't move, she just blinks at him. 

"Steve doesn't know I'm here."

Eddie huffs out a breath. He's getting annoyed at this conversation really fast. 

"Will you just say what it is that you want to say and leave me alone, then? I really need a nap."

"Steve doesn't know I'm here and he didn't know I was, uh, using his face to-"

"Catfish people."

"Is it considered catfishing if I had no intention of dating anyone?"

Eddie frowns. What the fuck is wrong with this girl? 

"Yes."

She closes her eyes and presses her hands to her face. "Shit. I'm fucking this up even more, aren't I? I'm not good at this."

Eddie is honestly so fucking done with her. He's confused and honestly a little angry at this person he doesn't know but thought it was ok to mess with his life for apparently no good reason. 

"Well, I'm gonna go."

Eddie pushes himself off the wall he was leaning on and is walking back to the bar when she calls for him. 

"Wait. Please. I'm sorry… I have this tendency to joke around whenever I'm feeling bad or uncomfortable. It's just a shitty defense mechanism that I kind of can't control."

He honestly wants to tell her to fuck off but at the same time… He gets it. He is the same, after all, and Gareth would probably call him out on his bullshit if he ever complained about it. He can hear what she has to say, at least. 

"Ok. Go on, but I desperately need a Slurpee and you're buying."

Slurpees beat cigarettes every day of the week, no doubt. 

x

Robin's story was… Kind of crazy if Eddie was being honest. He was still confused about some things because how the hell did her professor support that idea? 

"I knew it was a crazy thing I was doing. I thought it would be harmless but once I realized it wasn't it was a little too late to back down and he was all over my case."

Eddie clicks his tongue. "You should report him, you know."

She looks completely terrified. "I thought about it but it's probably going to spill all over me."

Eddie shrugged. "Maybe you deserve it."

Robin worried her lower lip in between her teeth. "Maybe I do."

"I'm not saying that to be an asshole, it's just the way things are. When I fuck up at work I have to deal with the consequences and it fucking sucks so maybe you just need to deal with yours. It's not going to be the end of the world."

Robin sighs loudly. She's clutching her blue Slurpee as if her life depends on it and Eddie wants to warn her that it's going to melt. They are both sitting on a bench outside the store and Eddie is probably already running late to get back to his shift but he thinks he needs to be here right now. 

Robin's explanation was not what he was expecting. She swore Steve had absolutely nothing to do with that and proceeded to tell him Steve wasn't even speaking to her anymore.

He still can't wrap his head around the whys. Robin doesn't seem like a psychopath so it makes no sense that she would do something like this. It's an asshole move, especially given she and Steve weren't even friends. But Eddie had been an asshole before. He has fucked up with people he loves and he doesn't think that makes him a bad person.

He doesn't think it makes Robin a bad person. She at least looks really ashamed. 

"Are you going to throw that Slurpee at me?" Robin asks when the silence gets too long. Eddie looks at her and she's joking. Or at least he thinks she is. 

"Would it make you feel better if I did?"

"Honestly? Maybe. I can deal with screaming and fighting and saying dumb shit to each other. It's harder when all he gives me is silence and blank stares. It's like I'm not even there anymore."

Yeah, Eddie has been there. It fucking sucks. 

"Sorry," she says. "I didn't come here to make you feel bad for me. I know I fucked up and you have no obligation in forgiving me but I thought you should know what happened. Steve…"

Eddie has no idea if he can afford thinking about Steve right now. He misses the hell out of him and if he's being honest he misses Robin, too. 

"I know. He didn't know about any of that but I think maybe… Maybe he won't want to hear from me after I shut him out, you know? Maybe he'll be better off forgetting this whole thing."

Robin finally drinks her Slurpee. It's probably all water now, Eddie thinks. She looks at him and there's a glint in her eyes. 

"I think I've never seen him that happy. When he was talking to you, I mean. He was always glued to his phone, a dumb smile on his face. It was kind of adorable, if you like cute puppies."

Eddie did have a soft spot for puppies. 

"It doesn't matter anyway. Like I said, I don't think he will want to hear from me. I think I offended him, too."

"But would you want to? Talk to him again?"

He thinks for a second but he nods before his brain even registers the question. There's this ache in his chest that tells him he's probably going to miss Steve forever if he never talk to him again. 

"Ok, good. Because I might have a plan."

Previous | Next

#steve harrington #Eddie Munson #Coffee Shop AU #AU #Alternate Universe #Stranger Things #Fanfic #Stranger Things fanfic #Steddie #Steddie Fanfic #Catfish AU #Steddie ficlet

[chrofeisnightmaregf]

Here’s some late Halloween Tokyo Revengers head canons! There’s no specific timeline but I tried to focus on the final timeline but there are some mentions of others too! I lowkey wouldn’t mind doing a part 2

TW: mentions of drugs, violence, and swearing(lmk if I I missed any)

- Ran dresses up as ghost face and takes a bunch of thirst traps. He also walks around the house wearing black sweats and a ghost face mask and only puts a shirt on when it’s time to hand out candy or go somewhere(even then you have to force him too).

- Rindou makes BANK DJ-ing for Halloween parties this month. His clientele is usually rich frat boys spending their daddies money.

- Speaking of Rindou, you and him threw a small Halloween party with friends except you invited Ran, who in turn invited a bunch of people who invited more people so it just ended up being a huge party. Rindou complained to no end but secretly enjoyed getting to DJ the party and play whatever he wanted.

- Shinichiro is a literal GOD at hiding candy from Mikey when he wants to hand some out for trick or treaters because Mikey has and will eat all the candy that was bought for trick or treaters.

- Shinichiro later passed his tips on hiding it down to you when you told him how you spent so much money on candy for it to disappear repeatedly. You figured how it disappeared when Mikey was sitting on the couch with a half empty bag of the candy you kept buying.

- When the kids were younger Shinichiro used to dress them up in family costumes, you knew Shinichiro was serious about you when he asked if you wanted to join.

- Mikey steals everyone’s candy.

- Emma tried to dress up as a sexy nurse for Halloween one year and the boys refused to let her out of the house (queue you having to come over and give her an old costume so the boys would let her leave)

- Izana will never admit it but he secretly loves dressing up for Halloween. Him and Kakucho went as ninjas one year and it was the best Halloween of his life.

- Ran convinced Kakucho to dress up as ghost face and seduce you like Ran does(he showed him how he does it and everything) except Kakucho didn’t like how stuffy the mask was so he just walked around shirtless instead.

- Kakucho loves the domesticity of holidays. He feels so happy matching costumes or wearing Halloween sweaters with you while passing out candy. He loved admiring the kids costumes and watching Halloween movies with you.

- Kakucho prefers kid’s Halloween movies like The Nightmare Before Christmas or Halloween Town because he’s not a big fan of horror movies. They don’t scare him he just doesn’t find them interesting and the gorey ones gross him out.

- Hanma goes out dressed as the grim reaper and beats the shit out of people.

- Hanma also goes around wacking people with his scythe. He got a nasty glare from Kisaki and a slap in the face from you.

- Kisaki isn’t big on holidays, especially Halloween. There’s no particular reason he just doesn’t really care for them, he isn’t a kill joy however. And he does love to cuddle up on the couch and watch scary movies with you on the day of Halloween with a big bowl of candy planted between you too.

- He may not like holidays much but Kisaki does love the fall season. He especially loves the fall smelling candles like cinnamon, pumpkin, and apples and buys a bunch.

- You and Haruchiyo dress up as The Joker and Harley Quinn and win best costume to any party you guys go to(which isn’t a lot because I headcanon he doesn’t like parties much.)

- If it’s bonten time line and Sanzu is high, when people come and say trick or treat he will reply trick and either take candy out of their bags or cut the handle off there bag(and run off with it). You profusely apologize to parents and kids and give them handfuls of candy before socking him in the jaw and cutting his drugs off❤️❤️

- I wanted to say Hanma would do the same thing as Sanzu but I feel like he had a soft spot for kids and compliments all there costumes pointing out the most intricate details and saying how cool they look! The same can’t be said for the adult though, he goes out of his way to give the most backhanded comments possible.

- Draken and Inui(after convincing Shinichiro it would be fine) open the shop on Halloween wearing their uniforms and hand out candy. They even let kids in and show them the bikes they’re working on(with parental supervision obvi).

- Draken volunteers at a haunted house.

- He convicted the Toman founders to come because he could get them in for free and got the shit punched out of him by Baji when he jump scared him.

- Baji and his mom have a Halloween tradition to make home made sugar cookies and decorate them while watching Disney Halloween movies and later handing candy out to the trick or treaters.

- When they figure out what Kazutora is going through at home he gets a yearly invite(yes he cried when he first got invited).

- Takeomi feels really guilty about Sanzu’s childhood and how he treated him so every year he buys a bunch of Halloween costumes, candy and decorations and donates it to children in need. He likes to keep his porch light on as long as he can to make sure even the late trick or treaters get candy. He also volunteers at places too!

- Mitsuya makes all his own Halloween costumes. When his sisters were younger he made there costumes every year for them but when they got older they wanted store bought costumes instead. However if the girls can’t find one they like he makes there costumes for them(he was sad when they said they wanted store costumes and gets so excited when they can’t find one so he gets to make them).

- Mitsuya loves matching couples costumes but only if you let him make them. You guys went as Jack and Sally one year and he went all out. He hand stitched all the patterns into your dress and his suit and made all of it by hand.

- Mitsuya also used to make Taiju’s Halloween costumes but Taiju felt bad especially because Mitsuya wouldn’t let him pay him. After a while Taiju just started buying his costumes from the store but because of his build Mitsuya has to alter them anyway.

- Taiju and you dress up and volunteer to hand out candy at his church.

- No matter what costume he wears Hakkai always pulls it off.

- South never went trick or treating when he was a kid so you always make him go to every event possible like trunk or treat to try and recreate what he was missing.

- Much like Takeomi, South also donates a lot of candy and costumes to kids in need and loves to go around more poor neighborhoods giving out handfuls of full-sized candy bars to the kids.

#I wouldn’t mind doing a part two #i think I may do one for thanksgiving too #I have more headcanons but I felt like this was getting to long #but I also felt like it could’ve been longer #nightmarewrites #tokyo revengers #tokrev #tokyo revengers x reader #tokrev x reader #tr x reader #tokyo revengers headcanons #izana kurokawa #kakucho hitto #shinichiro sano #ran haitani #rindou x reader #sorry for all the tags😭😭

[darlingmbappe]

New Tank Top | Kylian Mbappé x Fem Reader

Summary: Kylian is feeling quite a bit possessive after you show off your new tank top at one of his matches.

Warnings: Filthy smut. Minors stay far away from this, I'm begging. Reader has big boobs! Posessive!Kylian, slight dom!Kylian, teasing, hickeys, titty fucking, dick sucking, nipple play, light choking, cussing, let me know if I missed anything! — English is not my first language —

Masterlist

Kylian was truly obsessed with your boobs.

Like a lot of things, having an above average rack was a blessing and a curse. When you first met Kylian, you were worried that he only wanted to get you naked, seeing that you’d catch him taking a peek at your cleavage an embarrassing amount of times. 

Ultimately for him, he fell for you hard… and your boobs were just a giant perk of having you all to himself. There wasn’t any doubt he was a boob man. He considered them built in pillows and would take long naps on them, sometimes even leaving drool on your T-shirt — something you found very gross yet endearing. When that time came around, he was always eager to get the twins out, latching onto one of them while his hand gave the other the attention it deserves. 

But much like you, he also considered them a blessing and a curse. 

Kylian is protective by nature, always keeping a tight arm around your waist to let all the other men know you were spoken for. He saw their lowering stares and wanted to punch them in their stupid faces. The worst was scrolling through social media. He remembered when you two first announced your relationship how many comments were talking about just your boobs. Some of them were really nasty; raunchy to the point where he had to stop himself from retaliating and fighting over Instagram comments with some random fourteen year old in Cheshire. 

You never felt smothered by his actions because you knew he trusted you, it was just his way of showing love. He never told you what to wear or made you feel objectified. Besides, men are pigs — and by and large, they all respect Kylian Mbappé. If they wouldn’t respect you, they sure as hell would respect your boyfriend. That was your perk. 

“Kylian, no!” You giggled, voices bouncing around the walls of some random equipment room Kylian had dragged you into in Parc des Princes. “What the hell has gotten into you?”

Kylian definitely just left a hickey, feeling him sucking on the side of your neck like he wanted to draw blood. He didn't even plan this attack on you, but he took one single look at you – decked out in PSG attire, his number proudly displayed on the front of your tank top – and this random, spur of the moment make out session before a match came to fruition. 

Kylian lowers his kisses, trailing down to your cleavage, leaving softer and deeper kisses there, nibbling at your skin whenever he felt like it. His fingers tugged the bottom of your shirt down, revealing more and more of what he wanted to see. The lacy fringe from your black bra made him blow out a breath involuntarily, giving your skin goosebumps with the light breeze.

“Earth to Kylian?” You slurred, trying to keep your composure as best you could seeing that he needed to walk out on the pitch in, like, five minutes. He just continues his trail, sucking yet another love bite. “Hey.” You tusk, pushing his shoulder back slightly. 

Kylian stands up straight, eyes so hooded and dark that it makes you laugh. God, this man was so easy to read. “Hm?” He hums obliviously, digging his fingers into your waist. 

“We don’t have time. You gotta get out there.”

Kylian just bites his lip, eyes dipping back to your impressive chest, continuing to tug at your shirt. He groans. “Yeah, yeah, I know.” He flickered his eyes up and down, but this only made his hungry lips stop for a second or two. Your gravity was too strong. It was like he forgot anything about a match when his lips landed on yours again, open and wet, taking the plump of your lower lips between his teeth with a quiet but throaty moan. 

How could you resist the way he devoured you? Slow but desperate, needy like he had never seen a pair of tits before. His fingers traveled from your hips to the under of your boobs, massaging his fingers delicately as they began to let them explore further. He took his lips from yours and dipped his face inside the crook of your two boobs, letting his tongue graze your skin freely. You giggled at his lack of self-control, something out of character for him. It wasn’t until you felt the sting of his teeth on the apex of your tit that you pushed him back.

“Kylian!” You shake your head and playfully slap his shoulder.

His overdramatic ass held the spot, hissing. “Ay! Why’d you do that?”

“I’m sitting with your mom and now I’m covered in hickeys.” 

He laughed a little, but stopped when he saw your face was slightly serious past the wall of infatuation. He cleared his throat, tugging your shirt up high enough to cover one of them, then quirking his eyebrow at the one on your neck. 

“Do you have a scarf?” He grins. You slap his arm again. “Ow! Okay, okay! I’m sorry. I just couldn’t help myself. It’s this damn top.” He gestures, hugging your hips. 

“Oh, it’s my shirt's fault now, is it?” He always made you smile, even if you were about to embarrass yourself in front of his mother.

The top was new… you bought it off some small business and it finally came in. A little smaller than you expected, a little more revealing for sure, but it paired nicely with the scorching summer weather. Plus, Kylian was clearly a fan.

He kissed you deeply once more, running his hands over the top of your ass, fingers stretching downward to give you a wanting squeeze.

"Later." You mumble against his lips, dragging your body away from his cage, having to push him with a laugh when he tries to hold you harder. "Good luck today. I love you."

"Love you too." He watched you intently as you left, blowing him a rushed air kiss. He sighed, looking down at his slightly tighter shorts. With a tusk, he threw his hands down. "Well, shit."

The game was tough to concentrate on and his eyes frequently wandered up the stands to the place he knew you were. You were almost just a speck but even just the sliver of the sight of you made his brain goo up, forcing himself to snap out of it and focus on the ball rolling around the grass an embarrassing amount of times. 

You sat the entire game with your hand casually around your neck, thanking the soccer gods that the game was over in just thirty seconds. The concealer in your purse helped, but the hyper-awareness of the mark around his parents was too strong. The whistle blew loudly and everyone cheered for the home team. 

With a big breath, you went over to Kylian parents to say your goodbyes. You hoped you didn’t seem rude by keeping your distance from them this evening, but even though you and Ky are both grown adults and they most likely know you do stuff, it still seems disrespectful to flaunt around the bruise that their son sucked onto your skin like an animal. 

You leaned in and kissed Fayza and Wilfried while using your phone to cover the wine colored spot on your neck as best you could. “We need to plan something soon!” You cheered, your phone chiming over and over again. 

Wilfried nods, smiling widely. “Oh, please. I’ll make some of that chicken you liked last time”

Buzz. Buzz.

You ignore it.

“Yes! That’d be great.”

Your phone wouldn’t stop buzzing, distracting the painfully awkward goodbye. 

“Do you need to get that?” Fayza giggled after the tenth notification. You knew who it was. Who else would it be but your horny boyfriend with nothing on his mind but your tits, high off his teams’ win against Lens. 

You nod and laugh it off. “Yeah, I probably should. My, uh… friend is looking for me.” Clearly a lie. You were never too good at fibbing – not that it ever stopped you from trying when the truth was more damning. You wave a final goodbye and weave through crowds of people while simultaneously trying to keep up with all the messages that flooded your cell, saying quick ‘sorry’s and ‘excuse me’s while shuffling past the masses.

Ky: Get down here right now

Ky: Couldn’t stop thinking about you, amour.

Ky: I’ll come find you if I have to. I need you so bad.

Ky: I think I deserve a victory prize 

Ky: That tank top is my new favorite thing you own. So fucking hot.

You shook your head with a suppressed chuckle and a clear ache forming in your lower stomach until finally, you made it to the entrance surrounded by security, showing them your badge and a smile. The desperation in your step must’ve looked silly as you searched for his face in every person that came into your line of vision in the significantly less crowded area, hoping to see his familiar lust filled eyes.

You: Outside the locker rooms

It couldn't have even been thirty seconds after you message him that he walked out, letting the door shut behind the celebratory cheers of his teammates, eyes dead set on yours – no shirt, very low hanging shorts, sweat still glistening on his skin from an intense ninety minutes and harsh lights of the hallway.

You slowly blink through your sultry stare, feeding on the muscles contracting under his skin with every step he took. “Congratul-”

He didn’t care for your congratulations or whatever you were about to say, he took your waist and planted a kiss on your lips – one that soldiers give their wives after coming home from war. One that swept you off your feet, letting the strength of his tired arms hold you up, resisting the urge to kick up your foot while your arms draped around his neck.

He pulled back with the most blown out pupils you’d seen him have in a while. 

Jesus, this Etsy shop is getting five stars and a novel-long review.

You breathe in deep and remember there are quite a few people lingering around – people with cameras and you’re not really sure how well either of you are hiding your needs right now. Kylian definitely wasn’t. You felt it poking the inside of your thigh. 

“Come on.” He grumbled, running his tongue over his teeth behind his lopsided smirk, eyes flicking between your eyes and lips like he was malfunctioning.

With a firm hand on the small of your back, he leads you down the hallway to a lesser populated area. He stopped abruptly by the mens bathroom and looked around for any witnesses before pushing his back against the door, dragging you with him in with his tight grip on you. 

“Really? The men's bathroom?” You question, watching him lock the door as you sauntered over to the huge sinks, taking a look at yourself in the mirror. 

He smirks so devilishly when he comes up behind you, slow and taunting, shamelessly undressing you with his stare all while ignoring your question. He didn’t even hear it, completely unable to multitask at the moment. “Stop gawking.” You demand shyly as you watch his reflection get closer and closer to your backside. 

He cocks his head. “Am I gawking?”

“Completely.”

You breathe in when his front hits your back and his hand finds your exposed thigh. The gentlest touch – barely grazing his way up and up with the pads of his fingers, feeling every goosebump he’s formed along the way. His hand reaches your hip, pulling you into his body desperately and roughly, a complete 180 from just a single second ago, his jagged breathing tickling your ear. 

“I think I’m allowed to gawk at my girlfriend.” He decides, watching your eyes blink slowly as you observe him in the reflection. His eyes dip down over your shoulder, getting the view he so desperately wanted, his hands unstoppable as they tug the material of your shirt down from the bottom hem, revealing your cleavage more and more. “Where’d you get this shirt, hm?”

You try and gulp subtly, but the twitch in his crooked smile lets you know it didn't go unnoticed. “Why do you need to know?”

“So I know where to get you another when I rip this one off of you.” He finally plants a kiss to your skin, right where your shoulder meets that strap of the tank top. He bites the strap and tugs at it, letting it snap back onto your skin. You shudder at the feeling and he laughs menacingly at your reaction. The vibrations from his chest go straight to your aching chore, so sensitive to every touch and sensation. 

You turn around and face him, tits now squished against his shirtless figure, clearly sending his brain into overdrive as he lowers his face until his lips meet the tops of your boobs with a wet tongue. He tugs the shirt down and down, mouth closely following the skin as it’s revealed until the material is bunched up under your bra, surely stretching out the straps irreversibly – but fuck, who cares. He had his nose buried comfortably between your cleavage, making you throw your head back as his hands found your ass. He gives you a good squeeze before lifting you up onto the countertop, pulling back only to look at how his spit glistened on the mounds. 

He was hypnotized by the shimmer, almost drooling at the sight as he mumbles a french curse word you didn’t really hear. You grab the hem of his shorts, pulling him even closer than before and letting the material snap back onto his skin with a vengeful giggle. 

He shakes his head and tusks threateningly. “Why are you being bad?” His voice is so low.

“Bad?” You smirk, running a finger all the way down his jaw, down his jugular, his chest, until you hook it back on his shorts. You look for his reaction before letting it snap back again. He breathes in through his mouth, jaw slightly unhinged with lack of control. “What if I feel like being bad?” You taunt in a whisper sensually, provoking your overly aroused boyfriend, watching his eyes turn completely black, lust blown and taking in every image of you. 

“You’re asking for it.” He warns – and it was a warning. A chilling one. His fingers dug harshly into your waist. The material of your jean shorts were certain to leave a pattern in the shape of his long and strong digits. 

You take a second to really contemplate, or at least pretend to – narrowing your eyes at him and biting your lip as your gaze traced his collarbones. Your hands still rested on his shorts and you peeked between your bodies to see the tent he had pitched. Fuck. You slowly grazed your calf on his before digging your fingers right back under the hem, staring into his dangerous eyes, knowing you were done for when you let it snap once more, much harsher than the last time. 

You couldn’t stop the smile that made its way to your face as he turned dark at your blatant disobedience. He shakes his head, looking at you in a way that turned you on and frightened you all at once.

He was about to say something and you were dying to hear it; faces only inches away as you both breathed jaggedly, hands ready to roam and feel – but the door was trying to be opened on the other side. 

You both whipped your heads in the direction, thankful that Kylian had locked it. “Shh. Ignore it.” He whispers, but then someone knocks. 

“Kylian?” You both hear from the outside.

“Merde.” He huffs, severely disappointed with closed eyes, helping you off the counter. “It’s coach.”

“Oh my god, what?” You whisper. “What do I do?”

He ushered you to the big stall as the knocking continued. “One second!” He calls, closing the door on you as he hurries to get rid of Glatier.

You can hear them from the stall, back leaned against the wall as you fixed your exposed bra in case you were busted. 

“Hi, coach.” You hear Kylian greet his superior. 

“Kylian… what are you doing?” Glatier’s laugh sounds uneasy.

“I just… needed some alone time…” The way he said it makes you want to slap your hand on your forehead. You hoped he hid his little problem in his waistband, or something, or else Glatier will think that he was jerking off in here. Not that the truth was any better… “You need something?”

Glatier takes a second. “No, I was just wondering where you were and someone said they saw you come down this way. Your parents were waiting for you out there – oh! Hi, Wilfried. I found him.”

No. Fucking. Way.

“Your mother and I have been texting you, Kyky.” His dad laughs and you hear him pat him on the shoulder. 

Kylian chuckles… very uncomfortably. “Oh, sorry, papa. I was just coming back.”

“Where’d (Y/N) run off to? She left in a rush, have you seen her?”

“Oh… uh… no?” God, he sucks at this. “She’s meeting us by the locker rooms in a couple minutes, I’m sure. Let’s go there now.”

You hear the door close and make sure the silence meant you were truly alone before trepidatiously stepping out of the stall. You need to splash some water on your face. It was hot in this bathroom after the events that just took place. You ran your hand under the cool water and pressed a cold, wet palm to your neck, hoping your blushing would subside with the change of temperature. With another quick look-over and adjusting your tank top over the bruised up mark, you decide you look just fine.

You open the door and immediately bump chests with someone. “Oh, sorry.” You mumble with an awkward laugh.

The man about your age quirks an eyebrow. “You know this is the mens room, right?”

You nod. “Ha, yeah. The urinals gave it away. Sorry.” You step around him and try to continue to walk down the hallway.

“Wait!” You hear the man yell. You turn as he approaches you again. “What’s your name?” The miniscule flicker of his eyes peeking at your cleavage made your skin crawl. Instinctively, you cross your arms over your chest.

You look back and spot Kylian talking with his parents down the hall, a clean shirt now covering his once exposed torso. “Um. (Y/N).” You begin walking away again, but he turns you around with a touch on your arm and you shrug his hand off with a face that screamed ‘not interested’.

The hint was not received. 

“I’m Luca. And you are beautiful.” He smiles, the beer on his breath now evident.

You purse your lips. “Thanks… okay, bye.” You turn once more, only to be stopped once more.

“You’re sassy, aren’t you?” He chuckles, taking out his phone. “Let me get your Instagram.”

You shake your head. “I have a boyfriend.”

He persists. “It’s just Instagram.”

“Sorry, but no.” You really tried walking away this time and kept walking even though he called out to you again by name. 

He grabs your arm once again as he stands in front of you now, still smiling cheekily. “I can play hard-to-get. I like games. ” You try to shake off his grasp but he insists until you physically take his hand off of your forearm. 

“I’m not playing any games, dude.” You say while he now shamelessly looks down your top. You roll your eyes and grimace, feeling a gross shiver come up your spine as you, once more, try to get away from him. 

Kylian is walking toward you with an angry step, his expression just as furious. You could hear the guy still walking behind you as Kylian gets closer, his eyes locked behind you where you’re sure Luca was on the receiving end of a frightening death glare. Kylian wraps a secure arm around your waist and pushes you to stand behind him. You felt like a toddler hiding behind their mommy, peering around your boyfriends bulky frame to see Luca starstruck to be in the presence of someone like Kylian.

“Ah, man!” He shouts excitedly. “Fuckin’ Mpabbé’s your boyfriend?” He asks you as if this was a monumental moment of realization for him. Kylian steps up to the guy who still hadn't realized the fury radiating from his body. 

You tugged Kylians hand and looked toward his parents who were now looking in your direction, concerned by the looks of it. “Come on, Ky. I’m fine. Let it go. Please.” 

You could tell the second Luca realized that he had severely angered this professional athlete and he was absolutely no match against your man. He gulped and backed up. “My bad, man,” was all he said as he backtracked down the hallway, not even using the bathroom like you’re certain he intended to.

Kylian watched him disappear behind some double doors before he even turned to you, squeezing your hand in his, pulling you close and kissing your hairline. You were almost mad at him for causing a scene but much too relieved that he came to save you to say anything. Fayza and Wilfried looked a little angry themselves as they chatted about the ordeal with disapproving shakes of the head. You couldn’t hear them but what else could it be, right?

“I didn’t like the way he was looking at you.” Kylian stated, taking a couple of breaths as you approached his family, humiliated by what they had to witness.

“Are you okay, dear?” Fayza asks with a comforting hand on your arm. 

You wave it off. “Yeah, no, I'm fine.”

“Good, good.” She looks at you with a remorseful and motherly stare. You hated that kind of pitiful attention, especially from Kylians parents. 

“Anyway…” You chuckle trying to diffuse the palpable tension, “great game, Ky.”

He squeezes your hand once more and smiles tensely, the obvious feelings of jealousy still simmering at the surface. “Thank you.” 

His mom rubbed his back, noticing his stiff demeanor after the situation. “Go home and relax, mon amour.” She says to him tenderly.

“I wish.” He huffs, hand still tangled in yours. “We have to stay here for a few more hours. The club owners are coming by with friends, or something.”

You frowned. “I was going to make us some dinner tonight.” You weren’t. But, you squeezed his hand and made him look at you – your needy eyes, desperate to finish what you’d started.

His lip twitches, reading your intentions clearly. “I’ll still eat. Wait for me.” 

A certain habit you had that Kylian didn’t care for was taking care of yourself when he was too busy. Impatience wasn’t something you could always help, especially when it meant sitting alone with dirty thoughts about your boyfriend overtaking you – all of you. 

“Don’t keep her waiting too long, Kylian.” His mom tusks. “Poor girl, must be starving.”

“Yeah, Ky.” You smirk and look up at him with those damn eyes he can’t resist. “I’m starving.”

His parents left after the traffic had died down and you weren’t far behind them, much to Kylians dismay. He was able to corner you for a quick and handsy make out session for only a few minutes until you were caught by Marquinhos and Ramos. They whooped and hollered as you blushed furiously, covering your face as Kylian shooed them away and doing his best to cover you, but a proud little smirk found its way onto his face. He disputed you when you said you’d wait for him at home, wanting you to stay so badly – but you kissed him goodbye and left with a wink, squeezing your chest together as you walked out. 

You were like a virus. A fucking vixen, or something. The power you held over him was unspoken, but you were both aware that you knew ways to drive him absolutely crazy. 

In the absence of you, his thoughts were reduced to filthy scenarios of when he finally got home. He was so bored just sitting there, watching the club owners and their old friends sit around a table, completely uninterested in the team's presence. No one understood why they still had to be there, but couldn’t disobey Glatier’s request – order – for all of them to stick around until the owners & friends decided to go home. 

Kylian scrolled endlessly on his phone, jumping from app to app trying to entertain himself as best he could. He had scrolled so far on Instagrams 'recommended posts’ feed that his thumb was getting sore. He came across a picture from today's match that made him smile. It was you in the stands with his mom, laughing with her about something. He wished he knew what it was, but felt warm at the idea that you and her had little moments like that when he wasn’t around. 

@kylianfanpage: (Y/N) and Fayza at today's home match against Lens.

He clicked the share button and sent you the post… but quickly wished he didn’t.

He should have skimmed the comments first and felt stupid for not even thinking about that. Comment sections are the fucking worst. He scrolled through the hundred or so responses with a pit in his stomach, grimacing at every objectifying comment from these people who didn’t know you. His mind couldn’t stop itself from going astray, wondering if those guys thought about you in ways they shouldn’t. You – his girl – in their dirty fucking fantasies. 

You: Lmao the comments… looks like this top is a crowd pleaser

He stared at your message enraged that you weren’t more pissed off about them. 

Ky: It’s not funny.

Ky: They shouldn’t talk about you like that.

Ky: They know you’re mine.

You leaned against the kitchen counter with your thumbnail taken between your teeth as Kylian continued his possessive outburst. It wasn’t necessarily a humorous situation – all these people looking at you as just a pair of tits – but, sadly, you were kind of used to it. Eventually, you realize that their comments only matter if you let them matter. Kylian was the one who actually told you that wise advice, seemingly unable to follow his own instructions.

You let him continue ranting to himself over text while you prepared to take a picture for him. Bra poking out of the infamous shirt, high angle for his sake, pursed lips and sexy eyes – you snapped only a single selfie and sent it. 

You: Just come home and fuck me already.

The other side went silent. The first time your phone had stopped buzzing since he began scrolling the comments. He was too occupied staring at this picture to have his dumb little fingers type anything at all, not that he could even come up with the right response to such a tantalizing photo. His back was pressed against the wall, phone so close to his face in case a teammate decided to look over his shoulder. His hand was covering his mouth and rubbing his chin, only able to tear his mind out of the gutter when he heard someone calling his name. 

The party's end was long overdue and finally people started saying their goodbyes. 

Kylian shook every hand as quickly as he could without seeming rude, but – god – he just wanted to go home to you. He wanted the daydreams that he’s formed over the past few hours to become real; to feel your skin under his. Hot, sweaty, sticky. He wanted to hear you scream out his name for all of Paris to hear so they’d know that it was him, and only him, that could make you feel that good. He wanted to draw out noises that you’d never made before and watch you unravel for him – so vulnerable and powerless against the bedsheets. 

It wasn’t like him to ask the driver to speed up, but he was really fighting the urge to just take over the wheel and steer himself home like the maniac he had been reduced to. His leg bounced in the back seat as he counted every street sign until he reached the very last one before his home – the one you didn’t officially occupy, but you might as well, spending most of your days there with him. He loved coming home to someone and dreaded the days when you actually went to your place to water your plants or make sure it hadn’t burned down in your absence. The silence that waited behind his front door on those days was gloomy. He craved to hear the sweet sound of you resonating down the halls. The light patter of your socks against the hardwood or an abrupt giggle about some funny tweet, sometimes even the huff of frustration when he left his shoes in the middle of a room gave his heart an extra little beat. Just knowing your lives were intertwined with the most trivial little daily things that added up was enough to make his affections swell.

He loved you tenderly, but tonight was not one for delicate sentiments. No. He needed you just as you needed him; raw and rough. The both of you craved each other like animals in heat after having to scrounge every ounce of self control and patience. The way he looked at you, the way you looked at him. It was so exciting. Above all, he needed to prove that you were his. Prove it to who? Fucking everyone. Anyone who ever laid eyes on you and thought they had even a sliver of a chance could go to hell because it would only ever be him.

You heard the front door slam. You heard his footsteps approaching the kitchen. Yet, you didn’t make any moves to give him too much attention. With a glass of red wine in hand, you leaned back on the counter – some random playlist refusing to let the silence build any more sexual tension. 

You smirk as he approaches you, stopping to eye you up and down. “You changed.”

You looked down at your new outfit: A pair of cotton shorts and a large hoodie. “I did.” You reach for another stemmed glass and pour him some of the same wine. Sauntering over to him, you hand him the glass, clicking it together with yours before taking another sip, never breaking eye contact. He doesn’t drink his, instead drinking you in completely. 

Kylian takes the glass out of your hand and sets both of them inside the sink. “Do you think I’m waiting any longer to fuck you?” His words and glare tighten your tummy. 

Whenever Ky got in headspaces like this, it sent you the urge to push his buttons a little bit. There was something so sexy about pissing him off just enough to get what you needed out of him. He was the gentle type – a bit goofy at times, and you adored that about him. But then these nights come around and it makes you wonder if there's a full moon in the sky causing these animalistic urges to become that much more obvious and aggressive. 

“You took a really long time..” You say to him, reaching down and toying with his fingers that hung on the sides of his body. Just a minimal touch that you know he was so sensitive to right now. “I was lonely…”

He laughs dryly and takes a step forward, closing in on you as you take steps back in tandem. “Lonely?” He growls as your back hits the edge of the counter.

“Mhm.” You hum, basking in the heat that came off his body. “I almost couldn’t help myself.”

“But you did.” He watches for your confirmation, his arms trapping you between him and the marble. You make a guilty face and purse your lips, tugging at his white t-shirt with fidgety fingers. “Are you gonna answer me?” He demands to know.

You smirk. “Somehow, I found a way to control myself.” You pull his shirt closer to you. “‘Cause I knew you’d be mad if you came home and found me with my hand between my legs.” His eyes are dark when you tease a kiss on his lips, but pull away, leaving him with half lidded eyes and a lonely mouth. “I have a surprise for you, baby.” You disclose as your nails scratch at his hip bones mindlessly.

“For me?” He mumbles, but his brain clearly isn’t processing anything that well at the moment.

You nod and place a soft kiss to his open neck. Just one. Then you push him away slightly. With a teasing pace, you toy with the sweatshirt you had put over a new tank top – a white one that you didn’t necessarily mind getting sharpie on. If anything, this one was a little tighter and more revealing. You lifted the heavy sweater over your head as Kylian settled himself comfortably against the counter, watching you like prey. 

His look of surprise is usually wide eyes and grand expressions, but this one was heavier in a sense. Half lidded eyes that only blink slower, ravaging you completely, almost predatory in a way that excites you. What have you gotten yourself into? 

You had written in big bold letters across your chest: For Kylian Mbappé only.

He sucked air in through his teeth before biting his lip harshly, grabby hands finding your waist to pull you to him. “Mon Dieu…” He breathed, dipping his head down almost immediately to attach himself to your perky nipple that showcased itself through the thin material. His hands traced the skin just under your boobs and squished them together as he alternated sides. Your head is thrown back at the feeling of his warm tongue and gentle bites, holding his head in place, right where you wanted him. 

He pulls back just enough to see how the shirt had become see through with his spit, humming and running his thumbs over the harsh peaks of your marbled tits.

“Do you like it?” 

He makes an instinctive noise with his throat as a response, pushing the material up. Your tits were taut as he tried to roll it upwards until they bounced out, Kylian watching so intently you physically felt his eyes on your body.

“You wanna fuck ‘em?” You tease, standing there and letting him eat you alive with his stare.

He looks up at you with a breath caught in his throat. He bites his lip. Hard. Immediately wrapping a hand around your neck and bringing you in. He didn’t even need to warm you up to his tongue as you felt it roll on the roof of your mouth. The hand that didn’t have a hold on your throat was placed on your ass to guide you, walking with him as best you could while he attached himself to you like a leech. 

Desperately, you tugged his shirt off over his head, throwing it in some random direction while he stumbled your entwined bodies toward the bedroom, but stopping right by the couch in the living room. He pulled away and pushed you down onto it. You fell with a ‘hmph’, eyes wide with surprise at the sudden action while Kylian stood over you, stroking his length through his shorts. 

“I can’t wait another minute, amour.” He growled as he walked to the edge of the sofa. You made quick movements of sitting up, looking at him through your lashes when your hands desperately latched to the hem of his pants and pulled them down with his boxers, taking him into your mouth with no warning. He hummed in approval, finally getting a taste of the satisfaction he’d been craving from you all day long. Your cravings were also being curved when his cock hit the back of your throat. You needed him buried inside of you – deep enough for you to see stars, rough enough that you’d be sore in the morning. 

He pushed your forehead back after only a few seconds, his shaft glistening with your spit.

“Lay down.” An order you immediately followed. He straddled your chest with his dick in his hand, pumping it while the other played with your bare tits, squeezing and tugging at your nipples harshly. 

He had never fucked your tits before, surprisingly enough. His obsession with them was obvious and he verbalized it to you every time he got to thinking about them. Secretly, you loved when you caught him leering at them, though you acted quite shy about it. It happened so often that you were sure he’d have asked you by now if he could get off between your boobs. He never had… but, fuck… he knew exactly how.

He toyed his tip against your perked nipples, watching intently as they rolled under his own skin, so soft and supple. It wasn’t long he did that before you pushed the girls together to give him the necessary tension he desired.

He shakes his head with a long sigh. “Tu es mon vice, putain.” You’re my fucking vice.

The way he watched his tip disappear between the flesh ws pornagraphic in itself. You wanted to see it, you really did. By the look on his face it was a hot view… but his eyebrows furrowing slightly upward… his jaw slack… his hooded eyes blinking only when necessary… you fucking love that man.

“Feels good, huh, baby?” You say in a tempting whisper, squeezing them tighter around him.

He nods as his eyes close and his head is thrown back, a sigh of pleasure wheezing out of his parted lips. His tip poked out of your cleavage, urging you to stick your tongue out and taste him. “Fuck.” 

He looked down at you and quickened his pace, thrusts dragging against our skin. He harshly ripped your hands off of your own boobs,  letting them fall naturally. “Spit on it, ange.”

You did.

He took over the job of squishing them together, using his thumbs to play with your sensitive nipples. The moans you squealed out with the stimulation were filthy. Just absolute music to his ears.

You couldn’t tear your eyes away from his face, beads of sweat collecting and reflecting off the kitchen light you’d left on. His chiseled chest moved to the pace of his heavy breathing. The bone of his hip flexed with every thrust, and you just had to reach forward and grasp his skin because he was too good to be true. 

“You’re so goddamn sexy.” The words slurred out of your lips, forcing him to look down at your bouncing body under his.

He was overtaken with pride. You were his. He wanted to give you everything and take care of you. The day hell froze over was the day another man could even conceive the possibility of a chance with you. Even the thought of that caused him to pull away and shuffle down to the other end of the couch. 

He might as well have ripped your shorts off with how harshly he yanked them down, exposing you to his greedy eyes. “You’re all mine. Fuck, you’re so wet.” He attatched his fingers flat on your core, spreading your juices and focusing the pressure on your clit. The buildup of it all made you jolt at first contact, gasping as your knees instinctively shut. He clicked his tongue disapprovingly. “You need me that bad?”

“Mhm.” You whine.

He opened your legs back up with his large and warm palm, squeezing the fat of your thigh as he positioned his cock to your entrance, teasing both of you as he ran it through your folds.

“You think any other man can make you feel like I can?”

You shook your head, desperate for his tip to break into you. “No. Never. No one else.”

“Good girl.” He chuckled almost maliciously, slowly prodigy himself inside of you – just the tip.

Your lip was caught harshly between your teeth as you waited for him to push it in deeper, but he stayed still, your hole stretched out with his head resting inside you. He hovered over you, placing kisses to your neck and collarbone, sucking a big hickey on your skin, but you hadn’t noticed until you felt him biting. You whimper at the sting and he pulls off, soothing the spot with a lick. Your hands travel to his ass and try to pull him in to move, but he wouldn’t budge – instead moving to another part of your chest and repeating his actions.

“Ky… please, baby.”

He finished his artwork before looking up and meeting your hazy stare, a lopsided smirk telling you everything you needed to know. It told you everything you needed to tell him.

“I’m yours, Kylian.” You whisper desperately. “Only yours. No one else can have me.” You jut your hips forward, but he stayed still, cynical smile still painted across his face. “Fuck, baby, please. You make me feel so good. I need you so bad. Fuck me already, Jesus Christ... Please.” You begged shamelessly, hands still trying to push him inside which he found humorous.

He put his lips on yours seductively, kissing you like he owned you. It took you by surprise, delightfully moving your hand to his shoulders and holding him tightly.

In one movement, he dragged the entirety of his length inside your gunny walls. You gasped into the kiss when you felt the delicious draw of his girth, and all Kylian could do was smile, mouth still on yours as you both breathed into each other. The moan you let out sent chills down his spine which your nails dragged over harshly.

The feel of your boobs squished under him drove him mad – truly, it did. The contact made his brain whir, hand finding a way to grasp at one of them, all the while sucking another mark into the side of your neck, just under your jaw. 

His thrusts were deep and long, the sound of skin slapping together louder than the music that neither of you could even think about focusing on right now. The consistent pace was spellbinding. The trimmed tuft of hair on his pelvis rubbed on you sweetly, knotting up your stomach in the most glorious way.

His hand left your fatty flesh and found itself around your neck, putting just enough pressure on your pulse points.

“You like that?” Kylian grumbles, never flattering in his movements. You bite your lip and place your own palm over his knuckles, nodding as best you could with his hand wrapped around your throat, clenching your walls tightly around him. “Ah, merde… bébé…”

He began going faster. Harder. You were sure he couldn’t go any quicker as his grunts became more strained. By any definition, you were getting railed. He was fucking you into the soft couch cushions, tears of pleasure welling up in your eyes as the knot grew and grew. You were almost there, clutching onto his wrist as if it would anchor you. He saw your eyes begin to cross, your jaw limply hanging, your jagged and suppressed breaths becoming quicker with the intensity of his thrusts. 

So he pulled out. 

Taking his hand off your throat, he sat back and stood up, leaving your naked body on the couch – cold and whining. Your legs pressed together trying to replace the pressure that was there only seconds ago. Before you could really protest, he made another demand. 

“Bend over the back of the couch.” He said this with his painfully hard dick in his hand, eating you alive with his red-hot stare.

You couldn’t even think about disobeying, your shaking limbs following orders before the words had really even been comprehended by your brain. You stuck your ass out toward him, forearms resting on the decorative table set behind the sofa as you peek back behind your shoulder to see your man leering at you with intensity. He grabbed the meat of your hips, landing a smack on one of your cheeks, soothing it with a kiss right after. 

“I’m so crazy about you.” He mumbles, lining himself up and thrusting in without hesitation. 

“Kylian!” You gasp, a moan following directly after. This new angle hitting that spot so perfectly, lulling your head forward onto the wooden surface. “God, that’s so good. You’re so fucking big.”

His hand found your hair, pulling your head back and arching your back. He leaned forward and bit your shoulder before sucking another mark onto you. Kylians breathing ticked your ear as he pressed himself closer to you. “This pussy’s fucking mine.” He licked the shell of your ear and continued his trail of blotchy stains. You don’t even know when he began playing with your tits again, rolling the bud between his thumb and forefinger. 

He was kissing you anywhere he could reach, somehow maintaining a brutal pace that bounced your entire body back and forth. You felt him poking your cervix over and over, the tug on your scalp boosting every sensation you felt. It was a vicious fuck, shaking around the table so much that a couple of books fell and a decorative box tumbled onto the floor. Neither of you gave a shit, though. You two were too focused on each other to give a shit about anything at all. 

“I’m so close, Ky…” Your voice shook with your warning.

“Not yet, amour. Not until I say so.”

You whimpered, shutting your eyes tightly, soaking in the sounds of the love you were making; skin on skin, colliding moans of pleasure, tired and strained heaving. The pull and tug of his quickly timed thrusts had your mind going elsewhere. There wasn’t a thought in your head except how your tight pussy was stretching to fit him and how good you felt… You could get a good assessment of how close Kylian was by looking at his face, but he had buried himself in the crook of your neck, hiding his expressions from your turned head, sucking yet another mark onto you. 

You wanted to cum so bad. You could barely hold it with your mind's refusal to go elsewhere – unable to conceive any other thoughts. Your thighs were shaking, tears swelling to your waterline at the extreme pleasure mixed with the pain of holding back that only amplified your senses.

He moved his hand from your tits to your clit, making harsh and fast circles on it. 

You screamed a moan and began to try and focus on your breathing. “Shit, baby – please. Can I cum? I-I can’t hold it.”

His breathing was so heavy against your skin. “Just a little longer.”

You whined with every thrust, eyes shut so tightly with focus. His fingers didn’t let up, not even when you felt his thrusts hesitate, a grunts taking over his throaty ‘ah, ah’s. 

It must’ve only been a few seconds, but it felt like an eternity until he finally pressed his lips to your ear. “Let go for me.” 

The moan that came out of you was long, loud, there must've been a curse in there somewhere but you were seeing stars, completely done for when Kylian painted your gummy pink walls white. His fingers kept going through your orgasm and his. It was only halfway through your come down that you even processed that you had gone limp, only held up by Kylians weakened arm that held you up by your stomach. 

Ky places tired kisses on your shoulder, untangling his hand from your hair and rubbing it on your bare back. “You okay, cherie?” He asks between breaths. 

You take a moment and nod, eyes shut and head resting on your folded arms. He pulled out with  hiss, shuffling back on his feet and going to the kitchen to grab some wet paper towels to clean up the dripping mess from your used cunt. 

You watched with a hazy glare as your boyfriend stood buck naked by the sink. “You have a cute butt.” You mumble with a smile. 

Kylian laughs, shaking his head. “Stop gawking.”

You roll your eyes at his mockery, smile hiding behind your arm as he walks back to you and wiping you down softly – a little ‘sorry’ mumbled when he made you jolt by running it over your overly sensitive clit. You turn and relax on the couch, Kylian coming down right next to you, pulling you into his chest. The pair of you rested in silence, your ear pressed directly over his heart, the thumping sending you to sleep.

“Wanna go to bed?” He asks, tapping your arm to make sure you were lucid enough to hear him. You rub your eyes and nod, but make no effort to move. He chuckles, shaking you a tiny bit until your eyes open. “Come on, I’ll tuck you in.”

With shaky legs and a guiding hand from your loving boyfriend, he leads you up the stairs and under the comforter. 

The next morning you wake up alone, as per usual. Kylian is off training and the first thought in your head is that you gotta get home to grab the mail. The poor mailman must be struggling to pack it into the little box attached to the front door. Groggily, you pick up your phone and read the good morning text from Kylian.

Ky: Good morning baby. You were sleeping like a damn rock when I left but you looked so cute.

It made you giggle.

You: Stalker

The floor was cold but the air was colder, seeing as you were still completely naked from last night, but power through and patter to the bathroom to pee… but your reflection in the mirror caught your attention.

You gasp, getting closer to see the damage done from last night's activities. You couldn’t whip your phone out fast enough.

You: I’m so mad at you.

You set it down and trace the bruises littering your body in the shape of Kylians mouth – they were everywhere. Everywhere. It would probably be easier to point to the places that were free of the dark pigmentation. 

Ky: tf did I do?

He had to see for himself, snapping selfies as evidence, angled left, right, up, down, even some from the back where he had marked you as he fucked you from behind. 

Ky: I’m not even sorry

Ky: That’s so hot

Ky: I’m proud of those

You laughed in disbelief.

You: How the hell am I supposed to leave the house with these? 

Ky: Guess you have to stay over for a while 

Ky: I’ll have you all to myself for a little bit longer

Kylian smirked to himself, barely able to concentrate on the workout he was currently doing, back leaning against the mirror wall as he zoomed into the pictures, cocky and proud of his creation painted all over your neck and chest. 

“Puta, Kyky!” Sergio exclaims from the exercise bike directly in front of where he sat. “Are you a vampire, or something? Sheesh, man.”

Kylian shut his phone off, only now realizing how mirrors work. “Mind your business, Ramos.” He tusked, a blush creeping up his neck and ears. 

“You saw that too?” Vitinha chuckled from another machine.

Kylian got up with a shaking finger at his team, walking over to the sauna room alone to text you in peace, sitting down on the bench.

You: I’m going home for a few days. My poor house is probably being taken over by dust

Ky: You should sell it then

He didn’t really think before typing, but pressed send anyway. Only after reading it over did he begin chewing on his fingernail with anticipation… probably not the best way to bring up moving in together for the first time. 

You: Are you joking?

He looked around the small room, noticing he was completely alone, pressing the call button.

You picked it up with a toothbrush hanging out of your mouth. “Kylian.” You greet with a foamy mouth. “Why are you asking me to sell my house?”

Just hearing your voice makes him smile shyly to himself. Even over the grain of his cell phone's speaker he thought it was the sweetest sound.  “Because I think you’d look better at mine.”

You spit out the minty paste, wiping your mouth quickly, but not really knowing what to say, a dry laugh coming out. “Is that the only reason?” 

“You know it’s not.” He twiddles with the tag on the towel next to him. “You make everything better. Like, I actually look forward to coming home when I know you’re waiting for me. It always smells good because you’re obsessed with lighting those little scented candles after dinner. Sometimes, I forget you don’t actually live there and I get really sad when I get home and it’s quiet. I know I can be moody at times and a handful to deal with… but… I don’t know. You’re the happiest part of my day.” He rubs his forehead. “I guess I’m sounding a little selfish here… but what I’m trying to say is that – when you’re ready, I am too. I want it to be our home.”

The line goes silent, but the sauna begins to echo with a synchronous and dramatic “aww” from his teammates that decided to eavesdrop on his conversation. Kylian hurls the towels surrounding him at them aimlessly as they scurry off in laughter. “Come on, guys! A little privacy!” He yells, phone attached to his ear still.

You chuckle. “What was that?”

“Uh, nothing. Sorry.” He nervously answers, pacing a little with the jitters. 

“Well…” You say, only amplifying the nerves that ran through Kylians limbs, his poor thumbnail raw from the wrath of his teeth. “If you have all those wonderful reasons to keep me around, what the hell took you so long to ask me, then?”

He pauses. “I’m a wimp.” You both chuckle. “Wait, is that a yes?”

Your laughter over the phone makes his heart patter. “Yeah, Ky. It’s a yes.” He does a little leap of excitement, joyfully laughing over the line. “But I still have to go home today… and I’m still a little mad at you about these hickeys.”

“Honestly, nothing can ruin my mood right now.” He smiles. “Alright, amour. I should go, but I love you. I’ll see you soon, okay?”

“Okay, Ky. I love you too.”

He hangs up the phone, grin permanently etched on his wrinkled face as he saunters out the sauna room with a pep in his step. As soon as he walks out the team's eyes are on him, clearly waiting for the update on the conversation they had butted their noses into.He shakes his head, but continues to smile from ear to ear. “She said yes.” He tusks. “So damn snoopy…”

A/N: I like this one! Except (idk how to explain it) I'm having a bad grammar week. Like I've been saying the wrong words and forgetting words in English and while editing I kept second guessing myself so PLEASE let me know if my grammar/word choice is wrong, but kindly, please :). Remember that I'm still, and always will be, learning english. It's a hard language.

ALSO!!! I've contacted tumblr about this issue but I've had a lot of people let me know they're not getting the notification even though theyre on my taglist. Idk what that's about but I hope it gets fixed soon. <3

Taglist: @trentione @mentalbaddie @neymarsrealgf @akiraquote @mrswhitethornbelikov @kymb-10 @formula101x @photmath @marcelineslove @tsikik @iheartkyky @freshfraise @jokertbh @germanapples @urfuturesoccerwife @nightlockcornucopia @laylaynaynay130 @starlight8374 @depressoesssspresso @mbappesbae @ maddyperrezz @gigiboss @xanjoy @lovekm @jkkiks @vvbasmavv-blog @suzysface @ lolarmy72 @lizzz2967 @kylians-world @superswaggycooch @shashla @mehrmonga @abayo222 @missmo79 @tties24-7 @gurleenkl @drewstarkeysbae @ vibinwkay @ctn26 @ippid @i0veless @abayo222 @b-bradshaw @http-isabela @zoeeeruiz @mitruscity @kenanlotus0 @mbapbaesluvr @alwaysclassyeagle @nhatquynh @philipetchebest @ricsaigaslec @dfswfvf @urfav-tz @kylianswag @fanatica2023 @alexisquinnlee-bc @megannandrewss @christianpulisic10 @pleasantducktimetravel @forevernightmaree @sachaa-ff @neymarloverxxx @4nn4rchive @lunamelona @m-uga @venomwh0re @edgyficuselastica @slaywhatyouwannaslay41 @pietromaximoffsbabe @krishnan-mbappe

#kylian mbappe #kylian mbappe angst #kylian mbappe smut #kylian mbappé imagine #kylian mbappe fluff #kylian mbappe imagine #kylian mbappé x reader #kylian x reader #kylian imagines #kylian mbappe fic #futbol imagines #soccer imagine #psg imagine #psg #kylian mbappe x reader #kylian mbappe one shot #kylian mbappe fanfic #kylian mbappe blurb

[mysticmellowlove]

Roasted Beans - Daily Routine

warnings; nasty yan, gross yan, yan male, sub yan, gn reader, cum eating, non-con, oblivious reader,

note; i'm building a catalogue of yans now! bowen, lex/noel, seth, my secret project ;) and now cutie-pie oliver!

It's easy to hide what I do during the autumn months. Everyone loves caramel in autumn. It's easy to hide cum in their caramel latte. It was part of the reason why I liked autumn so much.

Working as a barista in a local cafe wasn't the best job but for what I wanted to accomplish it was perfect. No cities, no bustle, predictable customers and old women who like to tell me about their grandchildren. It was a completely straightforward day. It was perfect for someone who wanted to simply float on by, enjoy their life and relax to watch the world pass. Someone like me, exactly like me.

A smile crossed my face as the bell to the family-owned coffee shop and book cafe opened. There they were in all their glory, their overalls fastened with a knot instead of a buckle. They had told me once that some of the horses had gotten a bit wild. This was one of the reasons I loved working here. My favourite farmhand came in around twelve every day to treat themselves to a latte and something to bite.

"Welcome back." I smiled warmly as they made their way up to the counter, making sure to wipe their boots at the door even though I told them I didn't mind mopping up any residual mud. They grinned at me as they leaned against the counter, their muscles bulging from all the farm work. I had to take deep breaths to calm myself.

"And good morning to you too Oliver." They hummed as they fished their wallet out of their pant pockets. I already knew what drink they would order but they often changed their food item for something special. I swallowed as I watched them scan the display case.

"I'll have one of the cupcakes today I think." They grinned as they pointed to the small ball-like carrot cakes I had baked this morning. I beamed, I had made them a very special one actually. I was hoping they would choose the cupcakes.

"Right then, a cupcake and a latte, salted caramel right?" I wondered as I punched in their total, making sure to add a little discount. It wasn't as if I was babying them, I just wanted them to have some extra cash... of course it was a little selfish though. Extra cash in the bank meant the possibility of a little present for me, or at least that's what I hoped. I knew they liked me, they called me 'sweetheart' sometimes. Jokingly albeit but the hind mind was a powerful force.

"Sure thing." They nodded and tapped their beat-up card before sending me a little mock salute as they went to their usual table. I buzzed as I walked over to the coffee machine, they were in the counter's blind spot which wasn't that great for me. I couldn't watch them enjoy the things I had made but... that meant that there was no way they would know about the extra touch I added to their drinks. My face warmed at the thought.

Since it was such a small cafe there weren't any other attendees today, which again was perfect. Usually around lunchtime the owners would dip down to the primary school and take their daughter out for lunch. I was completely alone, just the way I liked it.

The machine steamed as I made their drink, mixing in the sweet caramel syrup as I loaded the coffee and milk over the top. All I had to do now was duck into the kitchen. I looked around the cafe and once I knew the coast was clear I made my way into the back, staff only.

Quickly I pulled my dick out of my pants, already half hard just from looking at them. A shudder rocked through me as I let my fingers dance on the head of my cock for a moment, imagining that it was them touching me. The thought got me hot and bothered and soon enough I was ready to start.

I had gotten into a nasty habit of doing this with their drinks lately. It had been so long since we first met and they hadn't made a move yet, it was only reasonable that I get a little impatient. So I took to mixing my cum into their drinks. At first, I only swiped my finger over my leaking head and put that in but now... nothing less than one release would suffice.

I tugged my cock as I bit down on my lip to keep my moans silent. I had gotten good at quick sessions, especially since I was still on the job. All I had to do was think of them drinking me in like this, something so intimate and wholly mine... inside them. A flush shot down my back.

My moan built up into a strangled cough as I felt my cock twitch and release, thick ropes of cum dripped into the hot coffee. The cup nearly burnt my hand as I looked down at the mixture for a moment before I took a whisk to it. I had to make sure that it was hidden, it was still a secret and if I was being honest it would probably stay a secret.

I hummed as I tucked my cock back in my pants and pulled out one of the 'special' cupcakes I had made. The two were similar in more ways than one. I plated the cupcake and walked out into the main room once more, breathing deeply to try and will away my blushed face.

With one final caramel swirl, I walked over and placed the two dishes in front of them.

"Here we go, a cupcake and a caramel latte." I smiled as they looked up at me.

"Thanks, you're coffee is always the best!" I nodded as I returned to the counter to watch for other customers. I knew my coffee was the best, it was made only for them.

#sub male #drabble #sub yandere #gn reader #yandere male #oc oliver

[dwobbitfromtheshire]

I'm thinking about season one Steve, again. He never gave me the preppy popular vibe to me. I knew people like Tommy and Carol in high school. They weren't popular. They were outcasts who sat away from other people and exhibited gross weird behavior like propping their nasty feet up on the table. In season one, they mention that the game is about to start, but if Tommy and Steve were on the team, shouldn't they already be ready, you know? Maybe it was a different game. Did they ever actually say that he was on the basketball team, or is that something we just assumed? I know they said he was on the swim team. And I know that they showed him playing basketball in season 2, but that didn't necessarily mean he was on the team.

Anyway, I think because Steve was rich with good hair, nice clothes, and good with the ladies that people thought he was this asshole jock who bullied people. I mean, occasionally, he would show up to parties and show off his keg king skills, but for the most part, I think he was as much a loner as Jonathan was. He had two friends, and that was it. People called him king, and so with that title came the expectations of knowing everyone. Everyone wanted his attention, even Robin, but they never even bothered to try to get to know him. They just put that ball into his court. For the most part, though, I think he was this dorky outcast who just wanted to goof off with his friends and wanted so badly to stop feeling lonely even when he was around other people. I think he stopped feeling lonely when Dustin came into his life. Anyway, I just think what people know about Steve is just assumptions that they made about him like they made about Eddie. I like that in season 4 that Eddie admitted he made that assumption about Steve, that he was wrong, and that he told Steve that he was a good dude. It's why I love Steddie so goddamn much. Not even Robin said it out loud. I mean, I love platonic Stobin, but I hated it when she said that he was such an asshole for not paying attention to her in class. I mean, I get that she was jealous because of Tammy, but come on, does that mean just because he was popular that he has to know everyone in the goddamn school? In a way, though. I do like it because it shows that Robin isn't perfect, and I think later she sort of realizes it in the bathroom, but I don't think she ever apologized out loud for making that assumption about Steve like everyone else does. She also did say that people like her also wanted his attention. There was just something about Steve. I mean, yeah, he is a bitch but I love that about him but then again so is Robin, so is Eddie. I think that's why I always have them hanging out because, in a way, they're so much better for him than Tommy and Carol ever were. There's not this expectation of being perfect or being popular and Steve can be as bitchy as he wants with them because they'll bitch right back. It's their love language. To sum it up, Steve was an outcast in his own way. He just had a big house, rich parents, and women wanting to be with him. And I'm just really tired of Steve having to keep apologize for that. He apologized for the theater thing and what he said to Jonathan, and then he risked his life for them. He has nothing to apologize for anymore. People keep making him do that in fanfictions too, and it's so annoying. There needs to be a Steve Harrington apology tour in season 5 where everyone apologizes to him instead of the other way around.

#stranger things #steve harrington #steve harrington character study #steve harrington s1 #stranger things s1 #robin buckley #platonic stobin #eddie munson #steddie #rueleigh's thoughts