#AND IT WAS MAD SEXY TOO THE HEADLIGHTS WERE GOLD SO I THOUGHT IT WAS AN SR BUT NOPE IT WAS HALLOWEEN HITOYA

[akkivee]

MY REVIVAL PULLS THO????????

[fierysafrina]

My little girl | Nash Gold Jr x f!reader

Fandom: Kuroko no Basket Rating: Explicit Word Count: 2.180 Genre: Smut | Slice of Life | Fluff | Romance Additional tags: Breath play/Asphyxiation | Dry humping (if you squint) | Overstimulation | Dirty talk | Biting | Clit rubbing | Cursing | Praise kink Summary: You’ve always been more on the shy and quiet side, so when you buy sexy lingerie after a night of too many shots, you wonder how your boyfriend would react. Notes: asdfghjkl I have no excuse. I’m just really needy for Nash ;-; Also it’s my birthday today and I was like “why the hell not” and here we are. I think this will be last oneshot for a while (unless I write one for Obey Me), ‘cause I wanna focus a bit on my fanfics that I haven’t worked on in months or years.

You nibble on your lower lip as you stare at your laptop. You’re lying in your bed, scrolling up and down, going all over the pictures you’re looking at. Your cheeks are warm the longer you stare and you wonder what kind of reaction Nash will make if you order one. Just one and try it on.

A lace underwear that is.

Maybe you should also send him a picture while you’re at it, but you quickly shake your head, the embarrassment you feel in that moment suppressing every other need you had. You linger at a set of black corset-crochet like bralette and you wonder how it would look on you. You immediately grimace, because why would you even buy something so revealing and so … sexy for someone like you. Your plump stomach would definitely be in the way and there’s no doubt it would look horrible on you.

Without another look at it, you close the tab, following with the laptop before you stand from bed and walk into the kitchen to prepare dinner. There’s no way you could buy anything sexy, because you know how horrible it would look on you.

Not to mention, Nash would definitely tease you about, why you’re trying to buy something that definitely won’t fit you.

You stare at the box in your hands before you look at the postman, who’s preparing to print the bill. His focus isn’t on you, which you’re quite glad for. You wonder to yourself just what could you possibly get when a memory of you looking at lingerie resurfaces. You feel your cheeks warm. You slam the door the moment you know it wouldn’t be rude to slam into someone’s face and rush into your shared bedroom.

Throwing the box on bed, you fall on your knees and bury your face into the sheets. How stupid could you be to order it. Perhaps it was one drink too many last week, when you and Nash decided to stay inside only to wake up next morning naked beneath the sheets and two empty bottles of red wine lying beside your bed.

You look at the box once more only to groan, because yes that name on it is the same as yours and yes, you certainly ordered something much too revealing for your liking. You shudder with a groan, burying your face into the sheets once more, but the curiosity is taking the best of you.

You’re quick to sit on bed, one leg beneath you, as you open the box with shaky and cold hands. Not only are your cheeks hot, but the tips of your ears are as well and you suddenly have a need to run away—from the truth that’s laid in front of you.

It’s not that set of black crochet lace bralette and panties that you expect you purchased, but it was a classic white-nude lace that came along with eyelash panties. At first glance it looks innocent-like, a sweet set, but you know it’s far from that. You bite your lower before you glance towards the bathroom, a need to try the set on much too bigger to miss.

Hopping off the bed, you walk into the bathroom the curiosity only growing.

And indeed; ten minutes later, you’re standing in front of a mirror, staring at your reflection. It’s not how you imagined it would look, but you couldn’t say you were disappointed. It looks good and you feel good as well, so you’d be damned if you didn’t take a couple of pictures while you’re already wearing it.

You grab the phone, which was beside the sink, and take a couple of pictures, knowing if you take one it won’t be good. You always take more, always try different positions and this time wasn’t an exception either.

You’re standing in front of the mirror, your whole body visible in camera, but you still raise your free hand and bite your forefinger. Then you change positions into leaning down so your cleavage looks bigger, squeezing your forearms against your breasts to push them out a bit more and you take a couple more pictures. You change position a couple of more times before you decide it’s enough.

Taking the closest cardigan on the back side of the door, you walk back into the bedroom and sit on your bed as you look over the pictures. You grimace at some, while you feel embarrassed at others. It’s unusual to see you in such underwear and you’d be damned if you didn’t start to feel hot and bothered by how good some of them came out.

It takes a couple of more minutes to reconsider, but before you know it, you send one picture to your boyfriend. You know he doesn’t have much free time when he’s training, but you wonder what his reaction will be when he sees it.

You bite the inner of your cheek, staring at the picture you sent in text messages only to get no answer. Even when that ‘read’ was quite obvious in the corner. You try to calm your nerves, thinking he’s just too busy. But that still never stopped him from texting, replying to you in the middle before. Sadness and disappointments begin to grow inside you, shame that you even thought of purchasing something like this when you weren’t even sexy. You weren’t like all those models you saw in commercials or Victoria’s Secret Angels. You’re far from that, but did you really look so awful that your boyfriend didn’t even reply to you?

Another ten minutes pass, waiting for his reply, before a sigh escapes you and stands up, wondering what you were even thinking. You’re halfway into the bathroom to change when you hear the door unlock. Your heart races and you feel like a deer caught in headlights when you spot Nash on the hallway. He’s panting, sweat on his forehead and you frown because, was he running?

His eyes focus on you and a shiver runs down your spine. Before you know it, your back collides with the wall and his lips are pressed against yours in a needy kiss. You unconsciously moan into the kiss, your hands holding on his forearms for support because your knees are growing weak with every moment.

You feel his hand wrap around your throat, squeezing just a bit and you gasp at how hot he makes you feel. You want more of his touch and you try to move, your legs rubbing against his thigh that’s between you and he groans. He pulls away enough to look at your expression, saliva at the edge of your mouth, your eyes shut.

“Fuck,” Nash curses, his leg moving further up until he reaches where you want him to. “You really tryin’ to make me mad today, ain’t you?”

You flutter your eyes open when he loses his grip on your throat, but before you can look at him clearly, he already has you turned around. You barely manage to catch yourself with hands on the wall, confused at what’s happening. While you can’t deny the heat that’s spreading inside you, you only manage to mumble incoherently.

His hands are on your hips, sliding across your ass and you don’t have time to ask him anything when you yelp at the sudden sting. His palm comes into contact with your ass once again, but this time you moan, your breasts pressed against the wall.

“Look at you,” Nash groans, his hand dipping between your thighs and sliding across your new panties. “Already so damn wet. Just for me. For my eyes only.”

You try to hold onto something, but fail to do so, so you stretch your fingers instead as you move your hips back, trying to get more friction. You jump when he slaps your ass once again and you’re more than sure that Nash enjoys it to his heart content even if you can’t see him.

“What did you try to accomplish by sending me that lewd picture in the middle of my training?” he asks as he caresses your bum gently.

You whimper, tears in your eyes as you turn your head to try to look at him. “I-I just wanted to bu-buy something cute…” you stammered out, cheeks hot both from embarrassment and from how hot he makes you feel.

“Yeah?” Nash hums as he steps closer. You can feel his chest on your back and something hard prodding through behind and you moaned. “You have no idea what you did to me, princess.” He growled into your ear, one of his hands sliding across your stomach, playing with the waistband of your panties while his other hand wrapped around your neck once again. He ground against you, his pants reaching your ears.

It only makes you feel hotter and there’s no doubt you’ve become wetter as well.

“Nash, baby…” you moan as you lean back against his chest, his hand around your neck tightening. “P-please…”

“What is it, princess?” he hisses through his teeth, his hand slipping beneath your panties, going achingly slow towards where you want him. “What is it that you want?”

“Y-you,” you stutter and try to move your hips for more, but when he squeezes you just a bit tighter, you still. “P-please…” you whimper. “I-I need you so much.”

“Fuck.” Nash curses and before you realize it, you feel panties loose themselves on you before they pool around your feet. His finger slips inside you much too easily.

You part your lips, a content sigh escaping.

“So wet and tight.” Nash groans and bites your earlobe. “Too bad I wasn’t here to watch you put this on.” He slips another finger inside, scissoring them to stretch you. “I don’t doubt it’s a sight to see. Watchin’ you bend down and pull those panties up—fuck!”

He ground against your backside, pushing you against the wall. You try to support yourself, but you know you’re slipping.

“N-Nash please, please, please!” You plead, but you’re not exactly sure for what exactly. For taking you against the wall, for letting you off or for holding you closer to him to not let you fall, because your knees feel so weak as he thrusts his fingers in and out of you. You can hear the slickness, your insides tightening as you’re coming closer and closer to the edge.

“You gonna cum?” he hisses and sinks his teeth into your shoulder. You feel nodding your head. “Then do it. Cum over my fingers to show who you belong to.”

You come undone, your lungs searching for breath that never seems to come no matter how hard you try until you collapse against the wall. You’re panting, trying to calm down and there are soft caresses on your shoulders, your hair being swiped to the side as kisses are planted on the back of your neck.

“You’re such a good girl…” Nash murmurs and you feel your cheeks heat up. “My good little girl.”

You feel your pussy clench on nothing, feeling giddy at his words that he’s suddenly telling you. He knows how weak you are to his praise and if his smirk, that you feel against your skin, doesn’t prove you that, you don’t know what else will. Turning your head, you look at your boyfriend, who’s still pressing kisses on your back.

“D-did you like it?” you stutter.

His eyes meet yours and he bits down again, making you yelp. “Don’t think I didn’t forget.” He says once he pulls away. You look confused and he raises an eyebrow. “Did you forget what day is today?”

You frown at his question before you remember. Your eyes widen and Nash laughs before he sweeps you off the ground with a yelp and carries you into the bedroom. He throws you on bed and hovers over you in a second, his hand sliding between your thighs. You shudder at the sensation and you wonder when he got rid of his pants, but you don’t have much time to think about it because he’s kissing you like a man starved for weeks.

“I wanted to surprise you,” he murmurs against your lips before he trails to the side, kissing the corner of your lips, your jaw and lowering. His finger is teasing you and you whine in response. “But instead, you gave me a surprise. How naughty of you.” He chuckles before he pulls away, straddling your lap. He looks at you from above, his eyes filled with lust and hunger that you wonder if you could sate it.

“Let me show you just how much I cherish you.”

Your heart is beating fast, but you find yourself nodding. You reach out your hands to cup his cheeks and you pull him closer, pressing your lips against his, your arms going behind him. Your noses brush against each other and Nash’s hands slip beneath you to pull your bodies closer.

“Happy birthday, baby…” he whispers and you unconsciously smile. “Let me spoil you to no ends today.”

[mollymauk-teafleak]

Last Day of Widomauk Week!

Don’t know why I’m so excited, devastated its ending. Its been so much fun, I feel like a better, more accomplished writer because of this and it’s given me a wonderful sense of community. Thanks so much to @widomauk-week for organising this, its been the first collaborative fan thing I’ve ever taken part in and I loved it!

Final Day- Flowers 

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Molly sat on the bench outside the courthouse and enjoyed the warmth of the day. The sun was at the perfect height in the sky, perfect and bright as a newly minted gold piece. Rain was on the way to judge by the heavy grey clouds gathering just behind the skyscrapers and the scent in the gathering wind, though Molly didn’t mind that so much. Rain was good. Rain made the grass smell nice and the leaves look sugared and the lamps and headlights come alive and start to dance. Evening rain was the best of all, when you could lie in the dark between waking and sleeping and hear it rap on the windows. It was already late afternoon. Sun in the afternoon, rain in the evening, that was a perfect kind of day.

A perfect day to get married.

They hadn’t intended for it to be today of course. They were still in that uncommitted, airy phase of having no date and no venue but definitely having the intention. But honestly, the thought of facing all of the planning and spending and stress just to throw a party didn’t appeal to either of them.

So when Caleb had murmured, half asleep, face half pressed into Mollymauk’s chest, that he wanted to marry him that day, that very minute if possible, the tiefling had laughed. And he’d said, “Okay.”

And here they were.

The only thing Mollymauk owned that was white was a crop top with a wildly inappropriate slogan on it and Caleb own anything even remotely suit adjacent. But why get married dressed as other people? No temple, no church, no fancy shindig meant they had no expectations. They were just themselves. Mollymauk and Caleb making another of the impulsive, fun decisions that had worked out so well for them before. He was wearing his ever present coat, loving how it’s thread work caught the sun, tight black jeans with artful rips that he’d put in himself, a t-shirt from one of his own gigs. Might as well promote himself a little, surely he was allowed to do that on his own wedding day? Caleb meanwhile was once again proving that somehow plaid shirts and overwashed jeans could be made sexy as long as the right wizard was wearing them.

He’d lost sight of his husband-to-be-sometime-in-the-next-twenty-minutes-before-the-registrar’s-office-closed, after he’d sat him down and said there was something important he needed to do and he wouldn’t be too long. Molly had just smiled and obediently sat, happy to watch the city street roll by before him, enjoying the little patch of greenery in front of the courthouse, enjoying the quiet.

The quiet, of course, did not have long to live once their witnesses showed up.

“Mollymauk!” Jester hollered from the opposite end of the green, zigzagging her way across it to yank him to his feet and hug him tight. Her girlfriends followed at a much more leisurely pace.

“Hey, Jester,” Molly laughed, patting the top of her head, “Thanks for coming down.”

“I am incredibly mad at you right now,” Jester informs him, her words softened by the hug that’s still going on and on, “Your wedding would have been very fancy and very beautiful and very fun.”

“I know, dear,” Molly smiles, “We’re still gonna go party our asses off after, though, that's the best bit.”

“Want me to call the bar in advance and let them know it's going to be another night where they’ve got to deal with Caleb barfing in the jukebox?” Beau asked, already grinning at the prospect.

“Maybe married life will change him,” Molly cackles, shouldering her lightly, “You guys go inside and find out whatever forms and shit we’ve got to fill in to make us married, I’ll go track down my fiance.”

“Excellent,” Beau drawled, rolling her eyes, “Sounds like you guys really thought this through.”

Molly blew her a kiss and fluttered his fingertips, making her scrunch up her face as Jester ferried her up the steps. Yasha lingered just a bit longer, eyes soft and saying everything her mouth didn’t. When she folded Molly into a hug, he let himself feel small and safe in her arms, the way she’d always been able to make him feel, even on the days when all he’d been able to see was the endless black sink that was his past.

“Thanks, Yasha,” he murmured, patting her shoulder before moving back.

“I’m always proud of you,” she said in her soft voice before turning back up the steps to follow her girls before they left her radius of calming, rational influence and started to cause trouble, “Hold on tight to him.”

“You know I will,” Molly laughed gently, knowing exactly what she meant, “And I still want the bachelor party you were planning. Sure it was going to be a rager.”

Yasha was laughing as she walked away, making Molly smile with satisfaction. He always liked to leave her laughing.

He didn’t have to look far for Caleb. Before he’d gone a few paces, he saw him, walking quickly up the path around the green. The knees of his jeans were black with soil and there were a few twigs in his hair.

“What on earth…” Mollymauk stopped, blinking, “The hell were you doing, love?”

Caleb smiled, looking abashed. He held out his fist, revealing a hastily assembled bouquet of flowers. Clearly they’d been picked from nearby gardens and flower boxes, all the stems were different lengths and the colours clashed and a few were leaning on their neighbours, swaying on bent stalks.

“I didn’t want you to get married without flowers,” Caleb explained, “I know you love them. It’s not a nice bouquet or anything but it’s...something.”

Molly took the flowers, holding them to his chest like they were the most precious things in the world. They smelled of fresh turned earth, of new leaves, of the coming rain.

“It’s everything, Caleb,” he murmured, leaning in and kissing him softly.

The actual getting married part was fun, though the two of them kept giggling through their parts, squeezing each other’s hands and catching each other’s eyes at the wrong moments. Jester’s attempt to throw a handful of push pins in the absence of confetti was not well received.

The reception, for what it was, held at their favourite bar in town and then the nearby Waffle House when they all got hungry was even more fun. Their colourful, expansive group of friends surrounding them, the newlyweds took turns sitting in each other’s laps and kissing for inappropriately long lengths of time. Caleb managed not to disgrace himself at the bar, mostly because he spent too much time gazing at Mollymauk and forgetting to finish his drinks, though they later became possibly the first people ever to be ejected from a Waffle House for getting too handsy on one of the formica tables.

But afterwards, as Molly lay in bed while his new husband snored softly, listened to the rain hitting the window pane in its perfect, harmonious music and watched the ghosts of the droplets run over his little bouquet, stood proudly in a tumbler of water, that was the best of all.