#giving a fuck what i or others even are saying cause you're taking over the conversation with your shit that's irrelevant and no one has-

[d1s1ntegrated]

the way that fwb shiggy has taken over me

yeah he can fuck you like an animal from behind, but the second he catches feeling, he’s blushing and just a mess underneath u

fwb!shiggy hcs

nsfw, angst, etc

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he didn't plan on fucking you in the first place.

he didn't want to.

but you were both bored, and lonely, and drunk after weeks of meetings, plans falling through, and stressful missions.

it just happened. and he loved every second of it.

you had no idea, but you took his virginity. he played it off pretty well by taking you from behind, pushing your face into his worn-out mattress with four fingertips and a pinky lifted, splatter-painting your soft skin with multiple-rounds worth of cum.

that's how he did it every time.

when you asked him the first time if you could try missionary, or even cowgirl, he'd answer by folding you over and avoiding eye contact.

outside of sex, he acted like you weren't even there.

yeah, okay, he'd pay a little bit of attention to you. sometimes he'd let you hang out in his room when he was grinding on league, or he'd call you over to ask your opinion on character customization or new skins.

he'd show you his animal crossing island when you couldn't sleep.

sometimes he would text you when you were out, asking for a drink or when you'd be coming back.

but no, if you ever asked, he didn't like you. it was just convenient.

of course he took notice of how touya would sling an arm over your shoulders on the couch, but that didn't bother him.

or how you'd share memes with shuichi from across the bar-top, giggling about something irrelevant without him.

and when atsuhiro asked you to help even out his bolo tie, and you did it without asking, he didn't give a fuck. not one bit.

no, he didn't care- and that's why he spent most of his time away from everyone else. cause he didn't care what you did.

he found himself a bit angrier these days. dare i say jealous?

so when you dragged him to his late at night, like usual, he held you against his chest, wrapping an arm around your chest and holding you by your neck as he slammed into you from the back. whispering curses and degrading comments into your ear, but stammering as he did so.

like it hurt to say those things.

it took him a long time to get over it.

he came to your room this time, breath heavy with the scent of whiskey, a stain to his cheeks as he pushed you back against your clean sheets, kissing you sloppily and adjusting his gloves.

you let him, this was normal.

but when you wrapped your arms around him and really, genuinely kissed him back, it felt different. real.

he couldn't help but let a soft whimper into your mouth, rutting slowly against your thigh, tugging the hem of your shirt with a curled thumb.

you tried to undress and turn over, but he stopped you.

"wanna see your face," he slurs, "i need to see you".

you two faced each other for the first time- and he bottomed out. knees fully pressed into the mattress, barely able to hold himself up as he tried to fuck you "vanilla" style, arms shaking from the tension.

he eventually laid down, head spinning.

"get on top, my arms are nerfed" he giggles, but the sheen of embarrassment coats his cheeks.

and so, you ride him- and his mind is blown. he's noticing all the things he tried to ignore with fluttering eyes and huffed moans.

the way your hair falls against your shoulders, the soft curves that cling to either side of him, and your pretty face.

he cant help but whine. his eyes water, he's a cherry-red mess, panting and trying so so hard to keep it together.

he can't.

he cums inside of you without warning, gripping at your hips and thighs as he thrusts from under you, eyes blown wide as he coaxes you to finish alongside him.

"mine," he tries to whimper out, but his voice cracks as the euphoria splinters him, and it feels like more of a hope than a demand this time. "you're mine, right?"

he doesn't fuck you from behind after that.

he prefers seeing all of you.

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finally getting round to my inbox again <3 thank u all for waiting. we're so back :P !!!

[star-suh]

♡? (is it love?)

Park Sunghoon x Male Reader

cw: big dick sunghoon, manipulation and yandere undertones/attempt.

an: so here's my attempt to write a yandere character, hope is good 😭

—

“so you think you can do it?” sunghoon questions yn, who minutes before told the boy that he could dominate him easily –so he's now trying to do so, discarding sunghoon's sleeveless basketball shirt and putting restraints on both hands of his boyfriend, tying him to the bed. “fuck those gym routines are paying off” yn traces sunghoon's arms, amazed by every single defined muscle and veins, “were you carved by the gods themselves?” he jokes. yn kisses sunghoon’s hands then goes down his forearms, his biceps, his armpit and finally his chest. his tongue swirling around his nipples until they're hard “so sexy” yn mewled. it’s incredible the hold the other guy has over yn, it only takes sunghoon to flex his toned arms to make him horny, “i show you a little bit of skin and you start to hump the air like a bitch in heat”, yn nods, his lips still latched on the other's nipples. “do you act the same with others? do you whore yourself out when my friends upload those thirst traps?” here he goes again, acting all jealous when yn had told him that he’s the only one in his mind, over and over.

yn nods in a no motion and then keeps on going down, littering the other's abdomen in kisses and some little bites here and there, making sure to give each ab his well deserved lick.

yn kisses sunghoon’s tip – oozing with precum, showing how eager he was to see his boyfriend’s attempt to dominate him. “keep doing that” the tied one grunted. yn’s tongue swirled around sunghoon’s tip – playing with his foreskin – his hands giving light strokes to his shaft using the saliva that rolled down to make it wetter. “i love your cock so much. your big cock” he slaps it against his flushed face, receiving a smirk from the top, showing those pretty fangs he has.

sunghoon kept giving orders to yn while he sucked him off, “shut up you're not the one in charge here” yn attempted to assert dominance, “says who?. we both know you're gonna fold sooner or later” the tied guy laughed.

“ayye shut the fuck up” without hesitation yn sat on hoon's face, “use that tongue for better things instead of being annoying”.

sunghoon complied, after all one of his favorite things was to suck yn’s ass, he thinks about every day, is one of the best sensations he could feel. his tongue making that warm entrance slobbery while leaving a wet mess around his mouth and cheeks. he shaped his tongue like a tube, introducing it to then open it inside him. on the other side was yn licking long stripes across the top’s shaft, sucking every bead of precum that comes out of the slit of his tip and spitting it in top of it. there would be times where yn would try to engulf all of sunghoon’s length but he would only reach half way through, “wanting to be in charge but can’t even go all the way to the base. pathetic” sunghoon stated and with no warning he locked yn’s head with his thighs and started to thrust hard. the bottom gagging of his thick shaft, “that’s what i’m talking about bitch!”.

yn managed to get out of sunghoon’s strong grip, “what the fuck?” yn coughs but sunghoon acts nonchalantly, “what’s the matter, you know i’ll never hurt you, right?”. yn caresses his neck trying to soothe the pain caused by that monster inside his tight throat, “hmm…”.

“come on baby are you mad?” sunghoon asks, maybe he was really worried this time? yn swears he can sense some remorse on his voice. it’s not the first time sunghoon has crossed yn’s limits, he knows damn well yn can take all of his length down his throat or that yn is not too keen on rough sex. “you shouldn’t have accepted to be my boyfriend then if you would get mad when i’m simply trying to make you feel good” sunghoon retorted to yn’s questioning stare. “it’s not like that” yn sighs, “i’m sorry hoon, i’ll try my best next time”. “good boy” a pretty smile formed on his face or that was yn saw, actually for sunghoon was more than just a smile is just another victory for him knowing that he can keep yn for more time near him, is like what he told him the day he confessed his love towards yn “i don’t know what i would do without you, you are like air, i need you to live” his anxiety of losing his precious boyfriend dissipating into thin air.

“dom me baby, could you do it” his demeanor changed completely now, after being all understanding and polite now he went back to his daring, cocky personality.

yn sank on his meat, his hole –now used to his length after all their steamy sessions they had since they became a couple– swallowed everything until he bottomed out. sunghoon balls deep inside him.

vanilla sex was habitual in their relationship but sunghoon wanted more, he wanted –no– he needed to obliterate yn, that’s the only way that yn would realize how much love sunghoon has in store for him. but right now he’s annoyed, his blood is boiling trying to contain the beast, the pleasure he chases the most. his boyfriend is riding him slowly, the faces he makes showing that he is enjoying it but sunghoon can't grasp why it's so pleasurable for him? it's boring. “sunghoon you fill me up so well” yn mewled, caressing his lower stomach to feel sunghoon’s entering him everytime he goes down. yn turns around to ride his in a reverse position, his back facing sunghoon. and he has to take advantage of the opportunity.

with all the strength he has sunghoon managed to break free from the restraints, damn yn was right the gym is paying off. he slid his arms down yn’s legs and brought him against him –-yn’s back pressed against his boyfriend’s toned torso– folding him and thrusting hard against him, the position letting him hit deep inside yn to places he had never been before, seeing how the further he pummels the thigh it becomes. “dear yn why would you deny me this pleasure all this time, don’t you love me like i love you?”.

yn couldn’t answer, the sudden intrusion making his mind go numb, not a single thought present there. jolts of pleasure covering his body, sunghoon proving why he’s the dominant one in the relationship. the top stopped folding him instead he accommodated yn into a doggy position. his hands gripping hard his hips. leaving marks on them.”do you love me yn?” he insists, but yn can’t think straight, “do you?” his hands sneaking around the bottom’s neck –applying pressure on the sides– “answer me bitch. or do you love someone else huh? who is it tell me”. drool coming out of yn’s mouth, his mind fuzzy due to the lack of oxygen, his face flushed and sweaty. “is it jay or maybe jake? or is it heeseung? hmm.. is my big dick not enough for your hungry whore hole?” tears pooling on both, sunghoon and yn’s eyes.

“nooo…” yn slurred “i only lo-love you…”. tears falled down sunghoon’s cheeks, but they were tears of joy, he’s happy that the person he cares the most reciprocates his feelings. he stopped choking yn and instead kissed the hand prints left by him on each side. sunghoon continued to manhandle him into shape fucking him sideways, against the wall and finally in a mating press, everytime he slam himself against yn’s ass, his balls slapped it spreading sinful sounds around the room that are accompanied by the wet sounds caused by the excessive lubed poured on his hole and sunghoon’s dick.

“fuck yn i’m gonna cum, where do you want it?”, “heee…” he slid his hand down his torso to pat his stomach, “naughty boy” sunghoon smirked and proceeded to kiss him, his tongue exploring inside yn’s mouth, he also spat inside his throat so yn could swallow. he pistoned his hips and with a loud grunt he came inside, his lower body spasming thanks to the pleasure granted by yn’s hole. yn just moaned feeling the warm splooge coating his insides.

“who’s my good boy huh?” the top asks. kissing yn’s throat as a way to apologize for hurting it with his hands and dick, “me” yn replied, “wxactly, do good boys deserve to cum?”. “yes?” yn replied but with some concern in his voice, knowing how bad sunghoon can be.

“that’s right, they do” in a twist of events he didn't do anything bad, he just jerks yn off until he cums on his hands, licking them clean afterwards. seeing how calm and tender he was messed with yn's mind, is a subtle change but this could mean sunghoon can change in the near future right? hell, this is better than nothing. unfortunately yn was too naive, sunghoon hasn't changed he just wants yn to think he has.

“i love you so much yn, i don't know what i would do without you”.

[ilikerafayelwaytoomuch]

How the LADS guys are at Mario Kart

A/n: thanks for all the love on my last post, it was super unexpected but I love and appreciate all of you 💕

For some reason I was thinking about how the LADS boys would be at Mario kart....

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Rafayel

Gets SO into it but isn't the best player out there

It doesn't matter that you're dating him, he will be so competitive and try his hardest to beat you

You're also competitive when playing Mario kart? It's a good thing Raf's got his own island because y'all would for sure be getting a noise complaint

"what the hell, Mario?!" "HA! Suck my dick, Toad!" "Baby how could you?!" "Take that little fucker!"

Non stop shouting at the screen and each other, especially if you made him slip on a banana peel and take over his place...he feels so betrayed

After playing will realize all the things he's just said and/or called you and will apologize, making sure you know he didn't mean any of it

But pull that shit on him again and you're done

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Sylus

Never played the game but somehow beats everyone at it

The twins and you made a bet on how Sylus would be at Mario kart. You totally lost because he's actually so good

Easily wins first place.every.single.time

Almost frustrates you and the twins (y'all will shit talk behind his back later dw) because how is this noob beating all of you

Doesn't even need to use any items. Wins by pure talent

You and the twins plot his demise, using every item you could on him and he still manages to win

"this isn't hard at all, I don't know why you all can't keep up"

Way too smug about it too, making the three of you vow to never let him play again

Would be slightly offended the next time he watches you and the twins playing it without him

Distract him with a kiss and he'll forget all about it

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Zayne

Incredible at the game due to a previous obsession with it

Knows all the shortcuts and controls to place in every race

Literally looked up all the tips he could online to get good at the game

Will teach you all of his tricks and tips to win

"there's a shortcut on this map here" "how do I go so fast? You have to drift like this"

Drifting is too hard to learn and you almost give up, but he encouraged you to keep going

Slowly, you get better at the game

He's so proud and is high-fiving you when he places 1st and you 2nd

The day you finally beat him in the race?

Heart explodes at watching you stand up, cheering and mocking him

"HA, the student becomes the master, take that!"

Just might have to let you win more often to see that smile again

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Xavier

I think he's the most chill out of the guys

Isn't good, but also isn't bad, getting around 5-6 place

It's a cosy night y'all are playing together, enjoying your time off

Then suddenly I feel like he'd get ultra competitive

The race was going as good as the rest, but Xavier shouting "OH MY GOD THAT THE FUCK WAS THAT FOR?!" Threw you off

Probably start laughing at his sudden outburst, teasing him

He'd shrug it off saying it was necessary because Bowser was a dick and caused him to place 8th

Basically just a chill guy playing Mario kart

But will randomly have an outburst screaming and cursing at a NPC for ruining the game

At least it's funny to watch

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Caleb

Like Zayne, super good at the game

But he's good for 2 reasons. The first is he knows the same tricks as Zayne. The second is this man literally looked up cheat codes to ensure that he'd win

Him and Zayne were both into Mario kart at the same time and took it very seriously

Caleb refused to lose to Zayne, so he hacks

You recalled Caleb being godly at Mario kart as kids

He'd always win. Every race. No matter who he was against.

So when you decided to play it again, you were surprised he kept losing to you

Little did you know, he was letting you win. Making sure to place just behind you, winning only occasionally

"damn you suck at this now" "maybe you've just gotten better pipsqueak"

He just wanted to see you smile for beating him at the game

Anytime he plays Mario kart with anyone else though, they're going down

You two are playing with coworkers? He'll hack so that the two of you beat everyone

[queers-gambit]

Fútbol is Life

prompt: Dani Rojas always says "fútbol is life," but it wasn't supposed to take precedence over you in Roy's. when he stands you up, disappointment and repercussions ensue. -> or when Roy forgets a date with you

pairing: Roy Kent x female!reader

fandom: Ted Lasso -> no masterlist... yet

collection masterlist: Nights Like This

word count: 9.9k+

note: this is pretty tame in comparison to other angsty fics

warnings: obvious cursing, established relationship, feelings are hard, depiction and mention of anxiety, Lord's name in vain, some fluff, some angst, more so hurt and comfort, purposeful use of repetition. Coach Beard is Bestie and threatens arson, romanticized job promotion, use of Y/N, pet names for / from everyone! not edited, this fic got away from the author.

"You still in yesterday's clothes?" A deep grumble sounded from behind you; being so used to it, you weren't startled.

"Uh-huh."

"Why're you up so early?"

"Mhhhhmmmmm."

"You get any fuckin' sleep?"

"Right, right, whatever you say, baby."

A pause as the pitter-patter of a rapidly clacking keyboard filled the space.

"I'm thinkin' of wearin' Phoebe’s Elsa costume all of trainin' today, complete with the wig. Thoughts?"

"Uh-huh, sounds good, love," the clatter continued until the screen that burned your retinas suddenly closed, and should you not have retracted your hands, would've been the meat of a technology sandwich. "Oi!" You snapped, looking up to meet Roy's knowing glare. "What'd you do that for? You're lucky this automatically saves!"

"Sweetheart," Roy leered, lowering so he balanced his hands on the arm of the sofa you occupied, "you're not good to anyone half-dead. A single night isn't gonna do anything more than what you've already done the past months."

You deflected shyly, "I'm just editing."

"At 95 words per-fuckin'-minute?"

While Roy glared, you expressed sheepishness, "I just - it needs to be perfect, okay? Today can't be anything less." He growled knowingly, handing you the perfect cup of coffee you didn't hear, smell, see, or realize he made with a kiss to the top of your head. With a smile, you bid, "Thank you, lovebug."

He grunted and took the seat beside you. "Right, then. Let's see it," he gestured for your laptop.

"You're not gonna understand what it says, it's all corporate lingo and statistics and - "

"Don't fuckin' matter - hand it over."

You slowly, cautiously, placing the computer on his lap. He flipped the lid and scanned the 60-some page document swiftly, skipped through the paired PowerPoint, nodded with his usual growl, then slapped it shut and pushed it onto the coffee table. "Fuck's sake, Roy!" You protested, trying to lean forward to take it back.

"Nope," he caught you beforehand and pulled you back to rest together against the cushions. He even reached around you to one of the many fuzzy pillows you decorated with, giving it a fluff, then situated it behind you comfortably. "We're gonna sit here for a moment, let you decompress. Like I said, you're no good half-fuckin'-dead. Just take a fuckin' breather, love, c'mon."

You deflated, pouting at him. "I just wanna do well."

Roy stretched his arm around your shoulders, letting you curl into his side. "I don't know what you're so stressed about. Hardest Goddamn worker I know, they'd be fuckin' idiots to pass you over for this promotion."

"You call them idiotic, unqualified, pampered wankers everyday," you giggled.

"'Cause they fuckin' are."

"Yes, yes, I know. But with me in this new position, maybe I can change things up so we're not all fuckin' wankers, hey?"

"Promotion or not, you'd never be like them," he mused, "you're too fuckin' pure, so innocent; sometimes, it makes me sick."

"You bloody romantic," you snickered, leaning your forehead to his temple.

"Just don't tell anyone, I've got a reputation to uphold. Still need a ride today, doll?"

"No, 's all right, baby, I hate makin' you late. Thank you, though, Sully's gonna pick me up."

"Know I don't care 'bout punctuality - 'specially when it's t'help you."

"Yeah, but you know I hate being dependent on or inconveniencing others."

He hummed, "You hear from the garage yet? How much longer they gonna keep your car?"

"They said probably in the next day or two, so, you'll officially be relieved of chauffeur duties very soon," you lifted your head to peck his fuzzy cheek.

"Oh, shut it - know you love me drivin' you 'round."

"Guilty," you grinned. "Makes me feel like a princess."

"Good, not doin' my job if you don't. So you wanna tell me why you're doin' work before actually goin' inta work?"

You shrugged meekly, readjusting so your legs were tossed over his lap, taking your own pull of coffee before answering, "I'm just makin' sure everything's in order, I'm a bit nervous to present all this."

"Darlin', it's as perfect as you are. And fuck the presentation, you're gonna make it your bitch and smash it. Should those twats in suits not think so, just call me... I'll set the bastards straight."

You hummed, smiling at him brightly. "You're a regular knight in shining armor, aren't yah? Who's just lookin' for reasons t'yell?"

"Always," he grunted, sipping his coffee, "every princess needs a knight, don't she?"

"Not a prince?"

"Nah, princes are over-fuckin'-raided, spoiled, pampered li'l spineless bitches."

You eyed him for a suspicious moment, quipping, "You or Pheebs come up with that?"

"Pheebs," he growled with a proud smirk. "Feel sorry for any bloke that comes her way."

"No you don't, you relish the idea of beating the shit outta anyone that remotely shows interest in her."

Roy chuckled gruffly, "I'm a man, I know how they think. So, if you figure out another way to keep her safe, feel free to share. Now, what time you gotta go?"

"Uh," you checked your watch, "Sully should be here soon, I should probably finish getting ready... Or start getting ready, I mean."

"Could save time and shower together," he smirked.

With laughter, you shook your head, "As tempting as that is, baby, we're on a time limit."

"Don't matter, I'll just drop you at work - they can't start until you're there anyway."

"Yeah, but you've got trainin' t'get to, love."

"So fuckin' what? I can be late. Ted'll understand - since he fuckin' adores you for whatever fuckin' reason."

"Because I'm fucking adorable," you snickered before leaning in to kiss him with another smile. "I appreciate you, baby, but I've got it. Thank you for offering and, you know, driving me everywhere the past week - but I really, really can't afford t'be late today."

Roy heaved a heavy sigh, "All right. Fine. C'mon, then," he grunted under his breath as he stood, "let's get you dressed."

"First time you've ever said that," you laughed, snatching his hand to lift onto your feet; following him to the bedroom. In tandem, you both prepared for your days at work; and while you didn't need to offer any vote to his fit - being the same monochromatic look everyday - you consulted his opinion on an appropriate fit for that day's presentation.

"You don't think that's a bit... Too sexy?" He asked, eyeing the heather grey pencil dress from where it hung on the closet door. "Tits look fuckin' spectacular in that - maybe too good for work."

"Kinda figured if I get nervous and fuck up orally, the way I look will be enough to distract," you smirked. "Or should I wear that little white number - "

"No, no, fuck no, you wear that for me and me alone," Roy grit, making you snicker and drop your robe; revealing a matching set of lingerie. His head cocked, eyeing you up and down, "I buy you that?"

You glanced at the bralette, sending him a smirk, "Not this one, but it is new; thought a matching set would give me a confidence boost. You like it?"

"Fuckin' love it," he mused, "not loving that you're wearing it for work, though."

"Well, maybe you should take me out tonight so it doesn't go to waste," you beamed, tugging the clingy material over your body; adjusting it as needed.

"Fuck yeah, I'm gonna take you out tonight. Fuckin' hell - look at yah! Not 'bouta let this look go to waste, gotta show you off."

With a smile, you informed, "I'll be out 'round 4."

Roy smirked, watching you debate shoes. "Them blue ones, there," he pointed to a pair of Tiffany blue heels that laced around your ankle; the aglet being a fun puff ball to add a hint of whimsy. "Right, how's 'bout dinner at Bordeaux? Drinks at Johnny's after?"

"You don't drink durin' the season," you reminded, dropping to the bed beside him to secure your shoes. He pulled your legs to his lap, sliding the heels over your feet and lacing them.

"Yeah, but I'll make an exception t'celebrate your new promotion. Hey?"

"That sounds really nice," you agreed. "Let's pray we're drinking in celebration and not in dejection."

Roy scoffed, "Fuck off. You've busted your arse for this, it's gonna go exactly as you plan."

"You sure you got trainin' today? Can't come with me, be my personal source of confidence?" You pouted, leaning into his side with your chin on his shoulder; hand finding his to lace together. "Maybe bully the higher-ups a bit into accepting my proposals?"

"Don't need me," he soothed in a rumble, "your work speaks for itself. You're just nervous, love, but it'll go away once you get your ball rollin'."

"Pun intended?" You smirked, earning a deadpanned expression. So you groaned and stood to finish getting ready, snipping, "Well why can't they just read my reports and such? Why do I have to present it?"

"Because they like it when you dumb it down so they don't have to actually fuckin' think. They only run the company 'cause they bought their way in, didn't earn it by merit - like you will."

"Oh... Thaaaat's right," you grinned, leaning into the mirror to push earrings through your piercings. "Love, could you hand me - ah, thank you," you smiled when he appeared behind you, hand splayed to present your usual jewelry. "Right," you finished latching the clasp, turning in the mirror to get a full look at yourself, then facing Roy. With your arms held in bravado, you quipped, "Well? What do yah think?"

"I'd buy any-fuckin'-thing you're selling," he nodded, arms sweeping around your waist.

"I'm not selling anything but myself as president of the very company I helped get off the bloody ground."

"I stand by my statement."

Your phone buzzed, smartwatch lighting up with notification. "Sully's here," you sighed, latching your arms around his neck, "and you've gotta get goin'."

"Hm," he growled, leaning in to press his lips to yours in a sweet kiss. "'S gonna be a great day, doll, can feel it for yah."

"Who are you and what have you done with my boyfriend? He's not usually so optimistic."

"Ha-ha," he grit, but the smirk on his lips assured he knew you were only teasing him. "C'mon, love."

Roy waited at the front door as you finished flitting around the home, grabbing your laptop and work purse, phone, chargers, keys, whatever you needed for the day; scampering out the door he held. Your coworker-slash-bestie, Erica Sullivan, a.k.a. Sully, waited in her BMW on the street, watching you walk Roy to his car.

"Bordeaux at 4:30?" You checked, him peering down at you fondly.

"I'll be there, baby. Now," he growled, "kick today's arse, and kick that meetin' every harder - always go for the crotch. Hey?"

"Mhm," you smiled, nodding in agreement. "Have a good day," you whispered, letting his lips drop to yours, "be nice to Coach Lasso - oh! - and tell Beard I finished our book and next is either Dinner At The Homesick Restaurant or Things Fall Apart."

"What's that fuckin' matter?"

"We bet who finishes each book first, winner chooses the next."

"Can't believe you're in a fuckin' bookclub with him," he scoffed slightly, looking mildly annoyed; which made you grin.

"You can't be jealous, I invite you each time!"

"Whatever," he scoffed, checking his watch. "Right, we better get goin' - "

"One more, one more, one more," you pouted, "for my nerves."

He chuckled and slid his hand across your jaw to romantically hold the back of your neck at the base of your head. "Got plenty of those, love, c'mere," he muttered, bringing you in for another kiss that made your head spin. His tongue swept against yours slowly, honestly riling you up versus calming you down - and it would've progressed if Sully didn't lay on her horn.

"I love you both but I need coffee!" She shouted from her window when you broke apart to glare at her car. "Let's go! Hurry the fuck up, you can dick her down anytime! We've got a real job t'get to!"

"Might honestly strangle her," Roy muttered, rolling his eyes, redirecting your attention to him. "Listen t'me, don't fuckin' worry 'bout today - you know you're prepared; you're gonna fuckin' kill it. Don't ever second guess yourself about what you deserve."

"Thanks, baby," you whispered, smiling, pecking his lips one more time. "All right, go, go, go, you gotta get gone or Beard'll give me that unnerving stare next bookclub."

He sighed heavily, but relented, "Love you, doll."

"Love you, too, handsome." You turned to leave, but Roy pushed off his car to ease his arm around your shoulders as you headed for Sully. "What're you - "

"My girl doesn't touch doors, you know this," he answered easily, gruffly opening the passenger door of the BMW. He took your purse, offering his hand to ease you into the seat; leaning down to set your belongings at your feet and nod at the driver. "Sully..."

"Fuckface," she smirked.

He growled in the back of his throat while glaring at your snickering bestie; looking at you softer, "Good luck today, sweetheart."

"Thank you, baby," you whispered with a growing grin; always entertained by Sully and Roy's competition and feigned distain for one another.

Never minding the fact that Roy personally saved her from a horrible date once - it'd ruin their power dynamic.

With one last glare to your snickering best friend, he grunted and lifted up to properly shut the door. You tried to watch him back to his car, but Sully was already zooming off.

"Nervous 'bout today, lovie?"

"No shit," you frowned, "considering the biggest promotion of my life really rides on this."

"I know, but I guess you're kinda supposed t'be nervous since you're goin' for an admin position. What was Fuckface's reaction?"

You pinned her with a sideways glare, answering with a sigh, "Supportive, as usual. We're goin' to Bordeaux tonight either to celebrate or drown my disappointing sorrow."

"Oh, fuck off, you've been working on this for, what? 6 years? And no, I'm not just saying that 'cause you got me a kickarse job."

You corrected with a snicker, "Might as well be 6 bloody years, all the God forsaken hours I've put in."

"Breathe, babes," she beamed, "you're gonna fuckin' kill it."

"You sound like Roy."

"Ah, fuck, can't have that. Even though he took the love of my life," she scoffed slightly, making you coo obnoxiously.

"Oh, babes, know you're my first and greatest love."

"Better be," she grumbled, "put over two decades inta yah, better be your first choice."

"Not my only choice?"

"Well, I can't give you babies... You know, I don't produce sperm - stupid fuckin' biology and shit."

"That fickle bitch."

She hummed in agreement. "Now... I know it's your turn to buy coffee but I got it, bit of a treat for your big day. But when you get that promotion, you're buying for a month."

"Deal and deal," you laughed.

After the most successful day of your career, your walk to Bordeaux was spent dialing your family to relay the news. Your mother squealed and cried with joy, repeating her pride and calling your father on a three-way; and your siblings pleaded for bragging rights as you were officially one of the youngest female presidents of any company. They also began rattling off expensive Christmas and birthday gifts they've longed for. Naturally, you mockingly scolded them for spending money you didn't have yet, but secretly took note of their suggestions before telling them to stay off social media until the official press release was published. That way, you controlled who knew.

Arriving at the prestigious French restaurant around 4:15, you put your name down for two; accepting a place at the bar until a table was available. The dining room was fully packed with patrons, waitstaff zipping around in perfected synchronization.

"Hello, love," the kind bartender greeted, "what can I get started for yah?"

"Oh, uh..." You scanned the drinks menu, "um... Maybe just... A Merlot?"

"Hmm. Are we celebrating tonight?" The young lad pressed, sensing your indecision.

"Yeah, just a job promotion," you couldn't fight your grin, "but my partner's not here yet, so maybe no champagne yet."

"Understood," he nodded.

"You know what? I am celebrating," you beamed confidently. "So, I'll have whatever you recommend."

"Any preferences?"

"I like sweet wines - oh! And mojitos!"

"Then you would've hated the Merlot - but not to brag, love, I make a mean coconut mojito."

"It's like you read my mind," you agreed with a bright smile.

By the end of your drink, your table was ready... And it was going on 4:30 in the evening; so you texted Roy there wouldn't be a wait, that you got a table. After following the hostess, you sat facing the restaurant to catch Roy's arrival; purse hanging on the back of your chair, gingerly fingering the flowers nervously as the minutes began to tick.

So, you waited. And made up elaborate backgrounds for the strangers around you.

Understanding training could go overtime, you didn't want to press Roy yet; so you enjoyed an appetizer, knowing he wouldn't mind you starting before him, and a second mojito. You even ordered a nice bottle of imported champagne, letting it chill on ice in a bucket beside the table; feeling a little pathetic uncorking a bottle by yourself.

You waited. And impulsively treated yourself, buying your Amazon cart.

Catching sight of few people sneaking pictures of the Great Roy-fucking-Kent's girlfriend, you tried to act as unbothered, natural, and aloof as you could in the spotlight of scrutinization; feeling humiliated, foolish, so bloody stupid.

You waited. And checked your email.

By 5, you ordered an entrée you knew Roy would enjoy and checked your phone. There were several messages from your family, new work emails, a few push notifications... But nothing from Roy.

You texted him again: did i get the wrong time? thought we said 4:30?

The complimentary basket of bread was replenished as you called his number - but it rang, and rang, and rang until his voicemail picked up.

"Uh, hey, it's, like, 5 and I'm sitting in this fucking restaurant alone, Roy. Where the hell are you? What's going on? Could at least text me if you're gonna be late. I already ordered for us. As annoyed as I am right now, I love you... Please call me back, or text me, or better yet, please, walk through the bloody door."

You waited. And doom-scrolled social media.

Your leg bounced from anxiety, something sinking your stomach to your feet the longer the minutes ticked. Unsolicited tears filled your eyes but refused to fall in public; skin feeling prickly and sweaty, ribcage made of iron, not bone. Looking around the hoard of patrons enjoying their dates, you had to mentally beat jealousy off with a stick riddled with protruding nails. It hurt something fierce seeing so many other people who weren't stood up; their sideways glances cast as if you were a social pariah and they pitied you.

Pity was the last thing you ever wanted, so you pretended to look busy to give the impression you were alone on purpose.

With each glance to your message thread, you grew increasingly uncomfortable seeing so many blue bubbles; a divide between the texts that delivered and those that didn't. Roy knew you had abandonment issues stemming from your parents and general anxiety; so the idea he was ghosting you filled your heart and mind with lead; mixing in your blood to pump through your body and weigh on your soul. He's never behaved such as this before, so while you knew in your subconscious he wasn't ignoring you, the little devil on your shoulder hissed Roy had enough of you and set up this date only to get you out of the house so he could pack his shit in peace. Heat flushed your core, worried he fell out of love with you and didn't know how to say it - but on the off chance he did show up at this point, you remained in your chair.

So, you waited. And played Candy Crush.

Calling him again, and again, and again; all going straight to voicemail. On the fourth redial, you left another message: "Roy, seriously," you snarled quietly, "where the fuck are you!?I've been waiting for you over an hour! They're gonna ask I surrender the table soon if you don't show up soon. Please, call me back or send a bloody text."

You were served two meals about 45 minutes later - long wait due to the overwhelmed kitchen - thanking the waiter with a meek, watery tone; emotional from sending so many unanswered texts and several voicemails. Your appetite paired with coconut mojitos cascaded into the void of mortification, nearly sending the plate back - but you felt that was horribly rude and a waste of time, money, and energy from the toxicity of self-deprecation. Instead of the divine-smelling roasted duck ordered, your stomach filled with panic, wondering why you were even still here!? You began to reprimand yourself for prolonging this situation and causing your own hurt; thinking you should've left within half an hour of his ghosting, not endure silent humiliation that was sure to end up in tomorrow's tabloids.

Why am I still here? Why am I still here? Why the fuck am I still here?

Because you knew the devil on your shoulder was wrong. Roy would never do something like this maliciously, and selfishly wanted to have a rare on-season date night. You weren't known for giving up; and after his experiences, refused to give up on Roy no matter how upset you might be with him at any given moment - so you began mentally gaslight yourself by designing excuses and giving him the benefit of the doubt.

Your heart rate escalated.

Your leg bounced with an entirely new anxiety than you started the day with when 6:30 rolled around, feeling something akin to devastating realization he wasn't coming to this overpriced, always-booked restaurant that was supposed to be a date to celebrate you. Then the thought suddenly occurred to you: what if something happened? Was he hurt? Was it his knee? A car crash? Some emergency? If there had been some kind of incident, shouldn't someone have called you by now, being his incase of emergency (ICE) contact? Did he get into a brawl with Jamie again, earning laps as punishment? Was there something going on with the team - was someone hurt? - and since he was captain, required to stay late to help?

You wondered how much longer you'd sit there, alone, looking like a lonely fucking prick.

Hating the anticipation and lack of communication, so you hit Coach Beard's contact while pushing food around the plate to give the illusion of eating. You cleared your sinuses and throat to mask the emotional turmoil. "I was just gonna text you my vote is Things Fall Apart, so you better not be calling to gloat, chickadee," Beard answered, "I know you won."

"Well, howdy to you, too, cowboy," you chuckled.

"Reach for the sky, bay-baayyyy!"

You snickered, "Careful, Coach, Disney doesn't approve of personal use of their propaganda."

"Only if they catch me," he chuckled dryly. "What can I do you for, twirly girly?"

"Oh, right. Listen, toots, uh, what's goin' on over there? How late are you gonna keep the lads?"

"Uh...? We're not, they're gone for the day."

You hushed, "Well, Roy and I had plans to meet for dinner 2 hours ago and he isn't here. Is he okay? Is he there? He has to be there, Coach, please tell me he's still there."

"Uhhhh... Well... See, what had happened was - "

"Beard, where the fuck is Roy? Is he hurt?"

"Um... No, not per se..."

"Well, what can you say? You better answer me or I'm tellin' Jane 'bout Halloween."

There was a long pause, hearing him sigh, "He's with the team, they went out."

"Wait, wait, wait - w-what? Out? Out where?" Your heart plummeted, throat constricting in white hot emotion.

"Hang on, honey." His voice sounded away from the receiver, "Hey, Coach?"

"Yeah, Coach?" You heard Ted.

"Where'd the guys go?"

"Oh, some new bar down the way that stays open past closin' time. Which is considerably early compared to America's 2am curfew."

"Hear that, pumpkin?" Beard spoke into the phone.

"It's a pub," you corrected automatically, "and yeah, I heard."

"What's goin' on?"

"Is that my sunshine!?" Ted was heard. "Put 'er on speaker! I wanna say hi!" You smiled despite the disappointment racking your mind, body, and soul as Beard obviously did as bid, the American coach cooing, "Hey, buggaboo! How you doin'? I'm sure you look real pretty today!"

You chuckled, "Hi, Teddy."

"Know what? I never liked that nickname 'til you started callin' me it!"

"You like anything I do, you overly supportive sap."

"Awh, you sure know how to flatter a guy. What's goin' on, sunshine? Ain't'cha out with the boys?"

"No, Coach, I'm actually sitting alone in a stupidly nice restaurant - apparently being stood up by my boyfriend who'd rather go out drinkin' with his mates without a word to me."

"HE WHAT!?" Beard yelled, making you flinch and jerk the phone from your ear. When you brought it back, you caught the tail end of his rant, " - and he'll run laps all day tomorrow! No breaks! Or I'll burn. This place. DOWN!"

"Beard? Honey?" You waited patiently as Ted was trying to calm his friend down, too. "Honey? Hey, you listenin'?"

"Yeah," Beard grumbled.

"Both you boys listenin'?"

"Uh-huh, what's up, sunshine?" Ted answered. "I got my hand on Beard's mouth, he ain't gonna interrupt yah. Go 'head."

You paused, taking a breath, "I got the promotion."

"YOU WHAT!?" Ted now yelled, Beard heard echoing right after; them obviously celebrating. You chuckled sadly, feeling ashamed over telling them first over Roy - but it wasn't like he was answering his phone, no way of relaying this life changing event. "Holy guacamole, sunshine! This is - wow! Just wow! Congratulations! Oh, my good golly all mighty! You got the job!? Oh, man! We gotta celebrate!"

You perked up a little, "Well, uh, if you're interested, I'm... I'm at this French place and might've already ordered a bottle of champagne. Would you two like to join me? I think it's a bit sad t'drink it alone."

"Hell, yes! We're on the way, peach!" Beard declared. "Ted - Ted - Ted, your bag."

"Oh, right!"

"And keys."

"Where - ah, there they are! Got 'em!"

"And phone!"

"Ah, dang it!"

Beard told you, "We're on our way there... Wait, where's there?"

You chuckled and promised to text the address so he just had to click it and follow the iPhone GPS. You asked them their order before hanging up; asking your waiter to box Roy's food and put in for their meals, also requesting your meal be reheated and brought back at the same time as the others. You finished another mojito by the time they arrived around 7, an extra chair being brought to the table; both holding bouquets of flowers they bought from a local shop on the way.

Standing to hug the two Americans, you thanked them repeatedly for being so kind and supportive; all sitting to enjoy the cuisine and pop the champagne. Despite their silliness and good-natured ways that was obviously exaggerated to distract you, the coaches couldn't miss the way your eyes were dimmed from your boyfriend's antics even if they tried.

"You know, I'm sure Roy ain't mean to forget. The boys thought they'd go out to this, uh, this new place to celebrate a real good day. It's some bar - "

"Pub," Beard corrected, nodding at you.

"Right, right, they went to this new pub down the way," Ted nodded. "Apparently, Richmond drinks for free and them boys wasn't gonna let that pass."

"Well," you huffed, "good to know."

"You all right, sunshine?"

"Oh, for sure," you snipped, downing the last champagne in your flute; Beard instantly refilling it. "I just love being stood up, simply adore bein' forgotten."

"Well, we're here to celebrate you - with you," Ted grinned. "C'mon, now, tell us all about this new gig! Spare no detail! We want it all!"

"Do you even know what position I was goin' for?"

"Nope, but I know it was mighty important."

"President," Beard answered, Ted gasping.

"And you got it!? Oh-ho-hooo! Awh, man! This is cause for dessert! Coach?"

"Absolutely. Pumpkin?"

"Oh, what the hell! Crêpes on me," you grinned. "Actually, think I could ask you two a favor?"

"Anything."

"Whatcha need, sunshine?" Ted snickered at Beard's stoic posture and deadpanned expression whilst still conveying support.

"Think you could arrange a meetin' with Rebecca for me? I know she's all busy but I could use some advice as a woman in power - and some style inspiration, if I'm honest."

"I thought you had her number?" Beard asked.

"I do, I just kinda hope she'd be more inclined to agree meetin' me if from you lot...?"

"Well, as far as I've seen, she likes you a helluva lot more than us - "

"Done," Ted chirped, already pulling out his phone as the waiter approached the table. Beard chuckled at Ted before ordering dessert for everyone. Coach Lasso then wondered, "Hey, you try textin' any of the other guys?"

"No, I called Beard when Roy didn't answer, thought trainin' went overtime or someone got hurt, that there might've been some situation," you shrugged. "And honestly? I don't think I really want t'talk t'him right now. Feelin' a bit..."

"Angry?"

"Abandoned?"

"Flustered?"

"Rattled?"

"Forgotten?"

Your head volleyed between the two, nodding, "You two are scary perceptive. Yes to all, but for what it's worth, this is a helluva consolation celebration."

"Cheers to that," Ted beamed, hoisting his glass over the table. You and Beard followed, "To Sunshine! And her shiny new job! We're real proud of you and can't wait to see what you do!" He looked to Beard pointedly.

"To our friend - the very best of us."

Three glasses clinked together.

"Thanks, youuuu guys - ugh, such sweetie-peaties!" You sang, arm slung over Beard's shoulder as he and Ted walked you to your front door; the taxi idling on the street, your home being too far to walk from the restaurant. "I could've gotten to the doooooor."

"Uh-huh," Ted chuckled when you stumbled, "and miss the chance to see where y'all live?"

"Why? Need home decor inspiration?" You teased. "Ah, fuck," you glared at your keys, "why do I have so many!?"

"'Cause you're big and important," Beard reminded you, earning a giggle of agreement.

"I gotcha, gimme that," Ted mused as Beard supported you upright. "All righty, let's see here - nope, not that one... Uh, this one? No, no... This one! Aha!" The door swung open to a dark home, Coach Ted Lasso mentioning, "Huh, guess the guys are still out."

"Fuck 'em."

"Atta girl," Beard mused, "step carefully, there you go. Easy, easy." They helped you into your home, letting you drop tiredly on the couch. "I got the leftovers," Coach Beard mentioned, moving into your kitchen as Ted propped your feet to the cushion and unlaced your heels.

"Hey, you still awake, girlie?" He shook your knee.

"Mh," he earned a grumble and swatted hand.

Ted couldn't help but chuckle lightly, "All right, well, I'm settin' your alarm, okay? Rebecca said she'll meet with yah tomorrow - so, don't you worry."

"Mmmh, but woooooork," you groaned.

"Uh-huh. Who should I text 'bout that? Don't think you're makin' it in tomorrow, sunshine."

You grumbled unintelligibly, Beard returning. "I got it," he plucked your phone from Ted's grasp. "Siri, text Sully: Won't be in tomorrow, will explain later, love you."

As Ted covered you with a throw blanket, the phone beeped to indicate the message was sent. "Y'all, like, secret best friends or somethin'?" He snickered with shock. Beard shrugged. "Well, now that's just dangerous," Ted continued, "can use anyone's phone to do anything, huh?"

"Eh," Beard shrugged again, leaving your phone on the coffee table and ushering Ted out. They felt bad about leaving your door unlocked, but figured Roy would be home soon enough - considering the time of night and his position as captain. He was usually more responsible than this...

The taxi had just pulled around the corner when Roy's car pulled in; oblivious to the pain he caused via his empty pockets, phone forgotten in his cubby. It had been a particularly good day where everything alined properly during training - which put the whole team on a high - prompting Issac to recommend they go celebrate. Ted thought it was a great idea for bonding; loving that the team had grown together as of late and encouraged any activity or amount of time outside the Richmond facility as possible.

He didn't know until later he should've reminded Roy of his promise to meet you for dinner and drinks before they left... But the Captain's relationship wasn't the Coach's responsibility.

Still minimally tipsy, Roy rushed for the front door with the intention of cuddling you until morning, nearly stumbling in; not expecting it to be unlocked. However, he slowed his roll when he spotted you on the couch; dead asleep, heels left on the floor, work bag leaning against the coffee table, and in the kitchen, bouquets of flowers on the counter. He knew you loved florals and often decorated with fresh blooms so this wasn't abnormal and didn't so much as tickle a memory. Roy just bent at the waist to kiss your forehead, rummage in your purse for your phone charger, plug it in, then stumbled off to bed. For the past three months, it was common to find you passed out on the couch - so this, too, wasn't a flag in his mind.

Roy wasn't usually so oblivious or forgetful, but as Dani Rojas says: fútbol is life. And sometimes, football distracted even the great Roy Kent.

By the time he woke the following morning, he wasn't near hungover but found water and tablets on the side table you preemptively left. He half expected you to be cuddled into his side, but the bed was still made - indicating you hadn't crawled in whenever you woke up. Grumbling, Roy made it downstairs only to discover the living room empty and cleaned up, but found a note on the kitchen counter.

Eat the leftovers so they don't go to waste

No signature, no drawn heart you usually attached, nothing sentimental or affectionate to your words. He tried not to think much of it, but in truth, Roy felt anxious about your lack of decoration or pet name; checking for his phone but after being unable to locate it, figured he must've left it at work. With a growl, he got ready and headed out; not liking his days that didn't start with you but tried to ride the high from yesterday. It didn't work.

When Roy entered the facility, he was surprised to see you at the far end of the hall, walking towards him in stride with Rebecca, chatting. "Hey, darlin'," he greeted, earning a glare from the owner of the team and not even a single glance from you. "Oi? Why aren't you at work? The fuck's goin' on? You were gone before I got up, could've drove together if I knew you were comin' - "

"We're busy, Kent, and you need to get moving," Rebecca snapped, looking to whatever you were showing her on your phone after; matching stilettos clacking through the hall as the pair passed him by.

"The fuck?" Roy muttered, brows furrowed in angry confusion; not understanding what he did to deserve such treatment. You next to never gave him the silent treatment or cold shoulder, so this felt alarming. "Baby! Hey! Did somethin' happen? C'mon, doll, talk to me!" He watched you disappear around the corner, growling to himself. He stormed down the hall, making several club attendants leap out of his warpath.

"Woah," Sam shied out of the way when a fuming Roy came barging into the locker room. "You all right, Captain? Ah, is it because Y/N couldn't make it last night? Didn't you see her? She's here today! She looks very pretty - "

"Captain," Beard snapped before Roy could respond, standing stoically in the doorway of his office; arms crossed. "Change of plans. Get in here."

Roy bared his teeth and begrudgingly followed Beard into the office where Nate and Ted were trying to look busy - but failing as they were obviously listening. "What's up, Coach?" Roy grit, not in the mood for any more shit now that he knew you were obviously pissed - at him.

"You're not gonna be part of training today," Beard snipped with a glare, feet lifting to cross on his desk.

"Come again?"

"You're gonna run laps the whole time." When Roy opened his mouth, Beard snapped, "No, it's not up for discussion. Now go. Get out, get ready."

"The fuck's up with everyone today?" He snarled, shaking his head and returning to his locker. With vigor, he searched for his phone - finding it locked in the cubby - dead. "Fuck's sake," he scoffed, glancing beside him to Sam. "Got a charger, mate?"

"Oh, uh, no, my phone is fully charged every night," Sam winced. "Richard might."

It took Roy a few minutes, but eventually Colin pulled his charger out and Roy left his phone plugged in on Ted's desk; changing for that day's session, stalking out of the locker room behind the rest of the team. On the pitch, the others began warming up - but Beard was glaring behind his sunnies directly at Roy, waiting for him to get going.

"You fuckin' serious?" Roy barked.

"Go. I wanna see knees-to-chest," Beard grit, arms crossing as Ted and Nate were to the side; talking quietly as if to avoid interfering with Beard's plan.

With a heavy sigh, Roy pivoted on his toes and started at a jog - earning several harsh blows of Beard's whistle to, "pick up the pace, knees-to-chest, remember!?". It was brutal on Roy's joints and lungs, his kit soon drenched in sweat from the prolonged exertion; the only real saving grace being Nate's offered sports drink each time he made his rounds. The longer he ran, the more time he had to mull over possible reasons for this punishment - but his mind was so jumbled with anger that he couldn't think straight.

His gaze often lifted towards the windows of Rebecca's office; seeing her figure, your's, Keeley's, and Higgins' all milling around at different intervals. He missed each time you paused at the window to watch him run those horrid laps.

When Ted blew the whistle that signaled the end of practice, Roy grunted as his legs turned to jelly to land on his chest in the grass. He was exhausted in body and mind; heaving for breath, letting Issac and Dani pick him up by the arms to sling around their shoulders. His feet dragged as they moved slowly, face contorted in pain; your glare lessening with sympathy from the areal advantage the longer you watched.

"You all right, babe?" Keeley asked, joining you at the window.

"I know I'm pissed - "

"Rightfully," Rebecca nodded from her desk.

"But fuck's sake, look at him," you sighed, hands slapping to your thighs. "Think that was punishment enough, Coach worked him pretty hard."

"He deserves it," Keeley scoffed.

"Right, right, right," your eyes rolled. "Rebecca, think I could pick your brain about a few things now? I'm sorry I took up all this time to complain."

"You needed to vent," Higgins spoke softly, "and this is a safe space."

"He's right," Keeley smiled with encouragement, "know we're all here for you, babes."

"Right, yeah," you cleared your throat, not entirely used to the supportive nature they've all adopted since hiring Ted Lasso. "But, uh, I do kinda need to speak with Miss Welton - not that I don't adore yours and Leslie's input, but it's kinda her wheelhouse."

"Oh, of course!" Keeley agreed, ushering Higgins out; all three ladies ignoring the dejected expression he wore over not being included in whatever matter you needed Rebecca's private ear for.

"Could I get you a refill?" Rebecca offered as you dropped to her couch with a sigh.

"Please," you agreed, letting her take your teacup. When she joined your side, she questioned what more you needed from her. "With this new position, I'm feelin' a bit insecure about my attitude towards the people I've worked beside for years. I mean, now I'm the big boss and that's just intimidatin' and a bit confusin'. Plus I'm worried about how I'll be received by the men I'll be surrounded by; also about now, with all this added responsibility, how I leave work at work and not bring it home. So I was wondering if I could pick your brain 'bout those bits. I mean," you took a small sip of tea, "you're the baddest bitch I know, figured there's nobody better to ask - pardon my language."

"No, no, I quite like it," she smirked, leaning into the back sofa cushions. "I'd steer clear of foul language around men, though; they tend to shy away from women with mouths."

"Not in my experience," you chuckled, earning a small snort from her. "Sometimes I feel like I'm only heard when I curse, partly blame Roy for that one."

"Oh, yes, that too - but don't let them rile you up to that point. It'll give them the wrong impression."

"What's the right impression?"

"Strong and capable," she smirked, sipping from her own cup. "Mh," she hummed with a broad smirk, "and just so you know, for future reference, I'm much more inclined to agree to you directly rather than Ted or Beard."

Downstairs, Keeley and Higgins paused at the bottom of the stairs to watch Roy basically be dragged into the locker room - sharing a knowing look and taking pity. "Think we should say something?" Keeley asked.

"Probably, there's the possibility of this turnin' violent," Leslie sighed, the two entering; discovering Roy had been deposited under the cold stream of water in the showers. They were given an opening to scamper into the manager's office and shut the door.

"Well, hi there! Just the two people I wanted to see come through that door! Well, that's a lie, I was hopin' for Sonny and Cher, but hey! This is even better!" Ted grinned, placing his phone down. "What do we own this pleasure? Oh! Is this is a Diamond Dogs situation?"

"Kinda, yeah," Higgins nodded, sharing a look with Keeley. Luckily, all Dogs were already present; but the Coaches and kitman still did their silly little howl.

"All right!" Ted beamed, drumming on his desk. "Whatcha got for us, Higgy, and honorary Pup?"

Keeley preened at the title while Higgins asked carefully, "Are you aware of what transpired between Roy and Y/N?"

"Oh," Ted glanced at a glowering Beard, "yes, uh, we are very much aware."

"Is that why you made him run laps all day?" Keeley asked pointedly yet with amusement.

"That was all him," Ted pointed at Beard; eyes wide like saucers. "Yeah, uh, you know, we might've... Might've let our emotions get the better of us this time."

"He deserves to be punished," Beard growled, staring at a single place on the floor.

"What's that, now?" Keeley asked in clarification. "Well, look, we ask 'cause she's upstairs with Rebecca, all kinds of upset. I mean, shit! She's the youngest woman to take over this type of position and her own boyfriend stood her up when they were meant to celebrate the news? I mean," she scoffed, looking around the men, "what the fuck is that shit!?"

"Yeah," Ted sighed, "Beard and I met her for dinner last night. Guessing Roy left his phone here..." He glanced at the device on his desk.

"She called you?" Higgins asked Ted.

"She called me," Beard answered stiffly, "wonderin' where Roy was. She worried he was hurt or something happened."

"Right, well, she's feelin' a bit better," Keeley nodded. "So, uh, maybe one of you could clue Roy in so they can hurry up and make up. Him bein' this oblivious isn't doin' nobody any favor."

"Nothing's really in order if those two are at odds," Higgins nodded nervously. "I mean, we all remember their last fight."

"Oh, God, yeah, that was brutal," Keeley winced.

"Roy came in and immediately headbutted Jamie so hard, it broke his nose," Nate recalled with a grimace. "I know he's a prick, but even Jamie didn't deserve that..."

"Yeah... Yeah, that was real bad," Ted agreed, sighing. "All right, yeah, I'll tell him what's up when he's done showerin'."

"Might be awhile," Nate winced, "he was in pretty bad shape comin' off the pitch."

"Good," Beard snarled quietly, crossing his arms tighter and glaring harder at the floor.

"Right, well," Keeley cleared her throat, "remember, she's upstairs. Yeah?"

"We got it, Kee-Bee," Ted nodded, eyes shifting over Beard. "You'll have to excuse Coach Beard - he and Y/N are apparently secret best friends and he's taking this hard."

"As he should," Keeley smiled, patting Beard's shoulder. "Good call makin' him run so much."

"Thank you," he preened at the praise.

The two coaches (and Nate) remained in the office even after all the players vacated. Out of worry, Ted asked Nate to check on Roy, who reported he was still in the shower; the trio waiting patiently, letting the kitman draw out new plays for them to discuss. At long last, Roy emerged from the showers with a distinct limp, pausing at his locker to finish drying off and dressing; giving the guys just enough time to mutter their final plan of action.

"Hey, Cap'n!" Ted called happily when Roy straightened with his usual duffel in hand. "C'mere a second, would'jah, please?"

He glared through the window, sighed, then slowly limped into the doorway. "What now?" He grit, "More laps?"

"Nah, nah, nah - oh, well, speaking of, that was some real nice hustle today," he tried to compliment. "I was impressed!"

"Fuck the both of you for it, can't feel my fuckin' calves and my knee's fucked. You fuckin' satisfied?"

"Right," Ted cleared his throat, Beard's jaw clenching. "Well, uh, there's actually a reason for your... Um..."

"Punishment," Beard provided stiffly.

"Why? Because the lads went out last night?"

"Actually, kinda, yeah," Ted leaned back in his chair. "Uh, Roy, I wanna apologize for makin' you run all them laps all day, but honestly, Coach Beard and I wanted you to hurt."

"The fuck did I do!?" Roy snapped, glaring at his coaches. "Everyone's been fuckin' weird today; and now you're punishing me for some shit I don't even know - "

Ted startled when Beard jumped to his feet and rounded on the Great Roy Kent, snatching his phone off Ted's desk to shove it into his chest. "You stood her up," he growled through clenched teeth.

"What?" Roy's head shook, doing a double take at his lit phone screen; quickly scrolling through the barrage of texts and voicemails from you.

"Last night... You were supposed to meet Y/N at Bordeaux's to celebrate her promotion - but instead, you went out with the team. Any other day, we'd make you run laps for skipping out on something like that, but yesterday, it came at that sweet girl's expense. She called me, asking after you - concerned you were hurt! You left her - alone - for hours - so Coach Lasso and I met her instead."

"Any of this ringin' a bell, Roy?" Ted wondered from his desk, watching the glow of his phone shine light on Roy's growing realization.

"FUCK!" Roy bellowed, neck veins straining and bulging. Beard nodded in approval as the Captain turned and rushed as best he could out of the locker room.

"She's with The Boss in her office!" Ted called helpfully after him.

When Beard turned, his angry expression had dropped and shrugged, "We'll give him tomorrow off to make up for today."

"Yeah, I was thinkin' the same," Ted snickered. "Think they're gonna be okay?"

"Oh, yeah, they have to be," Nate nodded, "those two are made for each other. He could kill her cat and she'd be the one to comfort him."

"That's... Not healthy," Ted cocked his head.

"But the sentiment is understood," Beard ended.

Roy charged from the locker room like a man on a mission, but hesitated at the stairs leading to Rebecca's office as if it were Everest. He was determined, though, not to disappoint you again; trying to climb without bending his knees - proving damn near impossible. He was grunting with strain, panting even as his body protested to the three-stair climb he managed; but his saving grace, as usual, came in the form of you suddenly appearing at the top with Rebecca.

You barely had time to process the sight before Roy was gritting, "No, no, just listen - please, don't ignore me again. I'm so fucking sorry, Y/N. I absolutely forgot about our date last night and fucked this up, hurt you, left you waiting in worry - I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to, doll, please, I swear, I'll even swear on Phoebe’s head, but you gotta believe me. It's no excuse, nothing ever could be, but... My explanation is I just got so in my head and fucking forgot - "

"Well, you shouldn't've! But please, pray tell how the hell you managed to forget? Did you suddenly pick-up American football, got a concussion?" Rebecca snarled in a defensively clipped tone. "What kind of a man stands up his own girlfriend!? Forgets about a date he arranged? Forgets about her on one of the most important days of her life? I mean, just look at her! She's fuckin' fit! She's not someone that anyone should, could, or would forget!"

"I fuckin' know all that, Rebecca," Roy growled, stationed on the third stair still, "and I'm trying to fuckin' apologize to my lady - not hear a play-by-play of my colossal fuck up from my boss! I know what happened, I'm the one who did this."

As Roy grimaced in pain, hand gingerly going to rub his trick knee, Rebecca shot back, "One of the consequences of fucking up is never living it down and to be reminded and guilted for it - "

Your hand flew to Rebecca's bicep in a silent request she stop talking once you noted Roy coddling his knee. "Holy shit, are you hurt?" You interrupted in worry, sharing a guilty look with Rebecca; both aware how running effected the footballer. She nodded and pet your shoulder, letting you hustle down the stairs to meet him in order to hash out this predicament. Though she loved you, Rebecca recognized it wasn't her place to interfere with your relationship(s) "Is it your knee again? Oh, for fuck's sake, Roy - "

"Doesn't matter, what matters is my apology."

"Yes, yes, I've heard you," you snipped, glancing up at the platinum blonde woman; earning a thumbs up before she disappeared to give you a lick of privacy. "Roy... I know this sport is your fuckin' life and normally I'd never complain - but how the fuck could you forget me?"

"'Cause I'm a fuckin' arsehole."

"Well, yeah, but - "

"Like I was saying before, there's no excuse, baby," he frowned, supported by the wall behind him; you facing him on the step, leaning on the railing. "Just - yesterday went real well, right?" You nodded slowly. "The lads were hyped, it was a good day and I guess I got swept up in the energy. Issac proposed goin' out as a team without the coaches and we all just rolled with it. I fuckin' forgot I was t'meet you... And I'm so fuckin' sorry. I didn't do it on purpose, sweetheart, but that doesn't change the fact I fucked up and hurt you."

"Well, like Rebecca said, what kinda man does this sort of shit to the woman he loves?"

"A complete fucking bellend who doesn't deserve his lady."

You shrugged meekly, "Hm, I had a more colorful and vulgar term in mind, but bellend works. But you know what? At the end of the day, being angry doesn't do any good, so it's o - "

"Don't you dare say it's okay, 'cause it's fuckin' not!"

"Okay, know what? You're absolutely right, it's not okay that you stood me up! That you forgot me, forgot what yesterday meant to me; that you got swept up in the energy of a good day at my expense! In truth, having good days on the pitch is much more common than getting a promotion! Mhm, yeah," your eyes narrowed at his surprised expression, "that's right, I got the job and all I wanted to do was share it with you..."

"You got the job," he whispered, "officially? Seriously?"

"Fuck yeah, I did! Youngest female president! You were supposed to be one of the first persons I told, but now it feels like you're the last. I called and texted you all fucking night, could've at least done the decent thing and communicate with your girlfriend where you were going, date or no - "

"I left my phone in the locker and it died. Swear on Phoebe."

"Don't bring her into this, and it doesn't negate from the fact that you should've been there with me - whether you had your phone or not! I'm not saying put me above your career - I would never - but I expect you to respect me and contribute to our relationship! God, it was so mortifying just sitting there alone for 2.5 hours! It felt like everyone could tell I was being stood up - they were pitying me, Roy! I need you to be more present, Roy, I can't date myself anymore, I can't do one-sided effort; I've been as understanding and flexible as I can, but you gotta meet me halfway. But whatever, it happened, nothing can change that - we can only learn from it - but I hear your apology, so... Fuck it, it is okay; it's fine. Beard and Teddy met me, actually; we had a nice night so it wasn't a total waste."

"Should've been different," he snapped, "should've been me."

"No shit, Sherlock."

"I'm so fuckin' sorry, love. I didn't meant to hurt you - it's the last thing I ever want to do."

"Well... I saw what Coaches made you do all day," you pouted your bottom lip dramatically, "my poor Lightning McQueen."

"Fuckin' deserved it."

"You really did," you agreed, grabbing him by the leather lapels and yanking him straight; releasing a muffled grunt of discomfort. "But I think runnin' that many laps is punishment enough and made you feel as bad as I did last night. So, c'mon, I'm tired of being angry, let's just move forward and get you home to an ice bath."

"Nah, we're redoing yesterday - we're goin' out. You wearin' another matching set?"

You scoffed with a small chuckle, shaking your head, "Roy, you're in no shape to go out, let alone have sex."

"I'm in pristine fuckin' shape."

"Oh, yeah? All right, fine, we'll go out if you can just walk down these three steps - "

"Fuck off," he grit, "we're redoin' last night, no discussion."

"Fine, but we're goin' home, can cook for me if you want," you shook your head. "Don't think it'll be a very good look for either of us t'be seen in public with you like this, hey? They'll start gossiping 'bout your retirement." He growled and let you get under his arm, one arm anchoring his wrist dangling over your shoulder and the other coiled around his waist. As you attempted to conqure the stairs, you quietly encouraged with strain from his weight, "Easy, easy, there you go... A-All right, sure, I guess that's one way to get downstairs... Oi, hey, careful! C'mon, bend your fuckin' knees, Roy!"

"I fuckin' can't!"

"Jesus fuckin' Christ," you laughed, "they really fucked you up today, huh?"

"'Cause they fuckin' adore you and were rightfully pissed."

"Good," you mused, now behind him on the stairs to aid his unbalance. "Though I'm unsure how to feel about my boyfriend's coaches adoring me more than my actual boyfriend."

"Oi! Don't say or ever think that bullshit. That's not ever fucking possible," Roy snapped, eyes wild and ablaze in offense, "nobody adores you more than me - I just fucked up but I'm trying to rectify it."

Once on flat ground, you remained on the first step, speaking softly, "Hey..." Roy turned to you; the height difference letting your arms wrap around his neck, his hands seizing the meat of your hips. "Please don't do that again. It was... Nothing short of humiliating sitting there alone on a date you set up."

"I know, baby," he sighed, "and I'll be apologizing even after it stops botherin' yah. I can't promise I won't fuck up again, but I'll never stand you up again, doll. I'll tattoo every fuckin' date of ours on my body if I have to."

You caressed his cheek, "Not necessary. Just don't forget me again, please. That... Really fuckin' sucked. But fútbol is life and the consolation company was top tier, so, I guess I shouldn't complain."

Roy sighed and let his head drop to your sternum, giving you a tight squeeze. "Nah, fuckin' do what Rebecca said: never let me forget what the fuck I did or let me live this down."

"You'll regret that - know I'm gonna bring it up every fight."

"Which is why we're never gonna fight again, you've already fuckin' won 'em all."

"Oh, I quite like the sound of that," you teased, fingers sliding under his jaw to perk his head up. "Hey... I forgive you."

"Don't - not just yet. Gotta let me make it up to you first. But I just need us to be good."

You shrugged, "Nah, we're good, sweetheart." You tightened your arms in an embrace, pecking the top of his head. "You know, grudges ages you and you know how serious I am about my skincare and my feelings on wrinkles. But if you wanna spoil me until your guilt lessens, I won't stop you. Just not a new car, I'm gettin' a company Mercedes."

"Good, all right, yeah, noted," he smirked, "'cause I'm gonna lay it on fuckin' thick; thicker than Tart's ego."

"Maybe worry 'bout your knees first, Casanova," you winced. Roy growled and pulled back, reaching for your hand to hold as you hopped down the step to his side. You easily wrangled his keys from his pocket, snipping, "Yeah, you're not driving - can't even bloody walk, my poor boy. I'll get you out of tomorrow, you need the rest."

"Hm," Roy growled. "What would I do without you?"

"Probably run a normal amount? Have a proper trainin' session?"

"Sounds miserably boring."

"Then what's all this, then?"

"Love," he grunted, keeping you under his arm as he shoved the facility doors open to the carpark.

requesting rules and masterlist

[avaredava]

Ate out!

୨୧・・・・୨୧

Master list

⯌Sum

Megumi eating you out! (Aged up!)

⯌ Wc

0.7k

⯌ Warnings

Oral (fem!receiving), alcohol (reader is drunk), Megumi got SUPER mad at Yuji, some thigh grinding, clit stim

୨୧・・・・୨୧

One thing about Megumi Fushiguro is that he is one shy boy. Your poor boy is even too shy to hold your hand in public. One thing that fully changed his beliefs and personality for a split second.

You, his favourite girl, his love of his life, flirting with Yuji Itadori, his fucking best friend.

A bunch of Jujustu sorcerers came together after high school, since most of you still work at or for jujustu high and the society. A bunch you went to the bar. You're boyfriend Megumi, Nobara, and Yuji.

Soon enough you were drunk and it wasn't full on flirting but your hand on Yuji's chest was enough to set Megumi off. He grabbed Yuji by his collar and shook him.

"What the fuck are you try to attempt Itadori?! Do with my lady?" he slams him against the bar counter. "Man, I'm sorry!" He seems more scared than sorry. You're a bit scared yourself, he's more calm and collected seeing him like this is kinda scary.

Since your drunk and your an emotional girl anyway it just made it worse. The scariness in his eyes made some tears roll down your face. Your tight red dress that he bought that you're playing with, drunkenly like a child.

When Megumi heard a sniffle coming from your direction, his head snapped back dropping Yuji against the counter. He scurried over to you holding your cheeks.

"We weren't flirting, w-well I wasn't, maybe he was i-i'm sorry." You drunkenly ramble to him as some tears roll down your face. He hugs you close others watch and he gives a death glare and they look away quickly.

"I know you would never cheat me baby." He coos in your ear. "I was worried about Yuji, not you. You're my good girl..." He rubs your back kissing your forehead.

He brings you back to his apartment kissing your hair. "I'm sorry for scaring you baby." He says in his still face yet the emotion in his eyes showed sympathy.

He bounced you like a baby on his lap since you were so out of it and drunk but unfortunately that bouncing was making you grind pleasurably on his thigh causing you to whine out.

It took him a second to realize he was rubbing your clit with his thigh. But you to drunk to think straight so you sat there and whined tears pricking at your eyes.

He rubbed your cheek kissing your forehead. "Aw baby... it's okay, I got you." He cooed in your ear petting your hair. "Such a sweet girl."

He dipped his hand into your panties and and rubbed your clit while petting your hair, kissing your forehead.

The ache in your cunt was intense. Almost painful you needed him so bad. "I know it hurts, baby... I know."

He lays you in the bed kissing your head. He takes off your shirt letting your perky breasts free from your tight shirt. He slowly takes off your pants kissing down your body.

He throws your clothes to the floor leaving you in just your panties. He kisses the pubic area. He takes off the lacy panties not ripping because they are his favourite panties on you so he leaves you naked.

He gives your slit little kitten licks making your legs twitch. He rubbed your thighs because you were practically like an adult child right now. All he could think about was taking care of his sweet girl.

You sat there sprawled out drooling with tears. But he thought it was so hot, he couldn't get over how good you tasted. He did slow licks savouring your juices.

He slowly licked up to your clit with his eyes squeezed shut with his own sort of pleasure as he sucked on your clit.

It made you squirt so quick. Just the way he enjoyed himself and took his time just made it so pleasurable.

He lapped up your juices and went up your body and kissed your lips, you can taste yourself on him but your too tired and drunk to do anything.

As soon as he pulled the blankets up and held you, you fell asleep. His sweet girl.

୨୧・・・・୨୧

A/N: Gr I don't know how I feel about this 😭

[hlficlibrary]

✤ Amnesia Fics ✤

A series of posts with the top five fics of each category by kudos plus five more hidden gems from that category! Remember to leave kudos and a comment on the fics you enjoyed to show your appreciation! You can find the library's other recs here.

- Top 5 H/L Fics -

1️⃣ For As Long As I Can Remember (It's Been December) by green_feelings / @greenfeelings {E, 128k}

After recovering from a severe accident that causes Harry to lose his memory of three years, he moves to London to start his life over as a star chef. Little does he know that when he falls in love with Louis at first sight, it’s not the first time they meet.

Featuring an unintentional game of hot and cold, Harry chasing memories that won’t come back, Louis burying himself in work to try and forget what he can’t forget, Liam being torn between two of his best friends, Zayn as a moral compass and Niall saving the day with good music and brutal honesty.

2️⃣ take my hand (and my heart and soul) by bananasandboots / @anylessreal {M, 45k}

Harry feels nauseous when he opens his mouth. "Hey. Um, hi. It's me," he mumbles before realizing with a jolt that Louis might not have his number anymore. "It's Harry... Styles," he tacks on, screwing his eyes shut and pinching the bridge of his nose. This was a terrible idea.

There's silence on the other end for a long time. Harry understands. He shouldn't have called. He tries not to let the static swallow him whole.

"I – yeah. Hi," Louis finally answers, slowly, awkwardly. "I um. Sorry. I heard about your accident. You're alright?"

Or, the one where Harry hasn't spoken to his best friend in sixteen months and can't remember why.

3️⃣ Fugue by iwillpaintasongforlou / @canonlarry {E, 16k}

Harry falls asleep a 17 year-old who lives in Cheshire and is probably rockstar Louis Tomlinson's biggest fan. He wakes up 24 with a wedding ring on his finger, two kids, and Louis Tomlinson attempting to wake him up with a blow job. The doctor calls it organic retrograde amnesia, says he might never get back the last seven years of his life. The only thing that feels the same is how he feels when Louis touches him, and maybe that's enough to make him fall in love all over again.

4️⃣ The Dead of July by whimsicule / @baroness-elsa {M, 117k}

Being an Avenger means continuing to be Captain America and smiling and being honorable for the public and Harry does his best. But it doesn’t give him time to figure out who he is supposed to be once he takes off his uniform and puts the shield to the side. Just being Harry had always involved Louis, and Harry fears he doesn’t know how to exist without him.

or: Harry is Captain America, and Louis’ been dead for 70 years.

5️⃣ Indestructible by whoknows {E, 24k}

“Hi,” Harry murmurs, and Louis hiccups out a sob.

“Hi,” he manages, still clutching onto Harry’s shoulders. Harry’s fingers drift across Louis’ cheeks, and there’s something off about Harry’s expression, but Louis can’t figure out what it is.

“I’m okay,” Harry says, and Louis is going to say something to that, even if he doesn’t know what, except Harry’s kissing him.

Louis freezes.

HIDDEN GEMS:

💎 Stand By Me by MsHydeStylinson / @mizzhydes {E, 100k}

He was almost home when his eyes caught the text sprayed on the wall saying ”Treat People With Kindness”. Yeah, right. He couldn’t help but laugh bitterly. How naïve are some people? The world was too fucking unfair to even consider thinking like that. One day, sooner or later, they would learn their lesson just like everyone else and their own carefully built little Shangri-La would collapse in the blink of an eye. Just like Harry’s had. Poof, and everything had gone.

Or, In the wake of a tragic event, Harry left home at the age of nineteen, leaving behind everything he ever loved. The only thing that kept him going was his passion for music and his dream of making it big in the entertainment world.

What happens when Harry later encounters the man who once broke his heart? Is it possible to find forgiveness for the person who bitterly betrayed him? Could love really prevail despite the trauma he carries with him from his past?

💎 Jade by Halos_Boat / @halohamilton {M, 91k}

Harry was in a shipwreck, lost at sea with an injury to his head that causes him to lose part of his memory. Louis happens to notice the boy and dives in to rescue him, then aiding him to health again with his mother’s help.

Harry may have lost part of his memory, part of his life, but he gained something better than he could have ever imagined; he fell in love with Louis.

But, the life that Harry couldn't remember may just come between them.

The Amnesia AU where Harry and Louis still end up falling in love.

💎 I'm Praying (that you don't burn out or fade away) by @lululawrence {NR, 74k}

“Louis,” Harry breathed happily. His smile widened as he realized he’d finally found him, and he was stood before his soulstar. This was the closest they’d been in 31 Earth years, which had felt extraordinarily long for Harry, even in his star form. He could hardly withhold his happiness at seeing him again.

“Erm, yeah,” Louis said, interrupting Harry’s thoughts with his brows furrowing and looking clearly suspicious. “And you are?”

Harry and Louis are literal stars who have known they were soulmates from their creation eons ago, however when Louis came to Earth to start the next phase of their fated future, he forgot everything. Even Harry.

This leaves Harry to break the rules and instead of waiting for Louis to call him and join him on Earth, he crashes down on his own. Without Louis there to guide him and help him learn how to adjust to having a human body and everything associated with that, Harry has no other choice but to do the best he can.

As Harry tries to correct what has gone wrong, he finds that friendship can be a light even in the darkest night, and through those bonds even separated soulstars can find their fated path once more.

💎 Making Waves by @haztobegood {E, 30k}

After Louis Tomlinson, an arrogant millionaire, is thrown overboard and loses his memory, a mistreated employee convinces him that they are married. Thrust into an unfamiliar life he cannot remember, Louis must learn to live with his new husband and daughters and adjust to a less extravagant life.

Or, the one where Louis can’t remember, Harry needs money, and Niall has a plan. An Overboard AU.

💎 i forget (but i remember you) by honey_beeing {T, 3k}

Where Harry has anterograde amnesia and needs Louis's help sometimes.

[chillllii]

when the audhd is fun until you become "i really really really have to give my input/side/idea and i dont give a fuck who's talking or what everyone was initially talking about" and before this site's illiteracy kicks in i'm certain we're all guilty of this to some extent

[gyaruhana]

pls write for thanos with hatefucking… like that man has that potential after seeing how he talks to the other contestants

Thanos/Choi Su-Bong - Hatefucking

Synopsis: You and Thanos hate each other and, no matter how many death threats he sends your way, you never listen. So he decides that, if threats don't work, maybe you need to be fucked instead.

A/N: wrote this in like two hours max so it may not be the best but I tried anyway !! I love Thanos so much and hatefuck with him has me thirstyy

Warnings: smut, penetrative sex, blowjob, degradation, thanos is a little meanie and you're sassy

If there was one thing that could be said for sure about Thanos, it's that he was a total fucking dickhead. 

From the very first game you played in this hellhole, he had been nothing but a problem. He skipped around like he owned the place and had no problem with sacrificing a few people. Not to mention, he was loud. So annoyingly loud. 

Unfortunately for you, he seemed to really hate you too. Maybe it was the fact you kept glaring at him like he did something or the way you'd make some sort of sarcastic comment every time he spoke. Whatever the reason, the feeling was mutual. He hated you. You hated him. That was the end of it.

Well, it should've been. 

As if some divine being took joy in your pain, Thanos walked up to you while you were alone with an angry look - clearly having something to say to you. You could guess he was going to try to threaten you into choosing to continue the games next vote since you had chosen not to.

“Yo. It'd be in your best interest to choose the blue button. It's really pissing me off when you keep pressing that red x button every time,” he spoke as he looked down at you from where you sat.

“Or what?” You say as you stand up and look at him with disdain. You weren't about to let this idiot try to scare you into doing what he wants. You weren't his slave. “Or I'll fucking kill you,” he says as he steps closer with a look that seemed like he meant it. Honestly, you didn't doubt that he was telling the truth. He's been killing people since the first game and it certainly won't be any different for you.

“Ooh, scary,” you say sarcastically before pushing past him. You didn't get far before he grabbed your wrist and turned you around, pulling you close to him. “You don't think I'll do it? Cause you'd be wrong,” he says as he looks at you dead in the eyes. You harshly pulled your wrist away from his grip and gave him a scoff.

“You're too much of a pussy to do shit. The only thing that gives you confidence are those dumb little pills you take,” you say as you look at him, challenging him to say something else.

It was quiet as you two just stared at each other, both silently praying for the other's death. He lets out an annoyed huff before finally breaking eye contact to look to the side. Without another word, he pushes past you and walks back to the other side of the room where the rest of the people who wanted to continue playing the game were. If that idiot really thought he could sway you, he'd soon learn you aren't swayed by death threats from high dumbasses.

When it came time to vote, you could feel Thanos staring you down. You turned your head to look back at him with an eyebrow raised and he turned his head away. You could see the annoyance all over his face. 

One by one, each player went up and placed their vote. The numbers were quite even and it was hard to tell who'd end up victorious in this vote. When it was Thanos's turn to vote, he made a point of stopping right behind you before he walked down.

“Remember what I said earlier. I'll kill you,” he whispers before walking past and skipping down towards the buttons. He kissed the blue button before walking over to the corresponding side but he was looking straight at you.

You ignored his hard glare and walked down to the buttons. You raised your hand and, no surprise, pressed the red button. You turned to him and flipped him off with a small smirk before walking off to the other side. 

For a moment, you actually thought you'd get away with that because it seemed that more people wanted to leave now. However, that was not the case as the result ended up being a tie.

Great. You were stuck here for longer. You definitely wouldn't be able to avoid Thanos if you were stuck here till tomorrow. He didn't seem to walk up to you immediately. It was like he was waiting for the right time to strike. All he did was stare at you from across the room as if he was formulating the most brutal way to tear you limb by limb. And, wow, he stared at you for a very long time. 

It wasn't until there were 5 minutes before lights out did he come to you. You were all by yourself in a corner and no one seemed to be paying much attention. They were all so busy in their own whispered conversations.

“Hey, it seems you didn't understand me the first time,” he says as he grabs you by your shirt and pushes you against the wall behind you. “I said I'd kill you if you pressed the red button,” he continues as he looks at you with annoyance.

“Go ahead then. Kill me,” you say as you look at him with a small smirk. He might have already killed a few people but you didn't believe he'd have the guts to kill people outside of the games.

He was quiet. All he did was stare. It was as if he was calculating some thoughts. He looked toward the timer on the wall before looking back at you.

“You're fucking unbearable,” he speaks before he's suddenly slamming his lips against yours. You didn't expect this move. You expected him to stab you or choke you - not kiss you.

You push him away with a glare. You couldn't be kissing this idiot. You hated him and he was fucking stupid. But even with that hate, there was something about the way he kissed you that had you thinking twice.

Fuck, you were doing this. 

You pulled him in by his collar and pressed your lips against his. There was nothing romantic about this kiss. It was pure hate. Just angry, rough kissing as if it would solve anything. His hands were all over your body before they finally decided to settle on your hips with a tight grip. He pulled away before starting to leave kisses along your neck. He wasn't gentle at all. He was biting you as if he wanted to draw blood.

“You're such a fucking bitch. Always acting so smug. I'm gonna shut you the fuck up,” he says as his hand goes to your hair before yanking it back roughly to give him better access to your neck. 

“You're the fucking bitch. Always walking around like you own the place,” you say back and in response he bites your neck hard making you wince slightly at the pain. “watch your fucking mouth,” he spoke as he pulled away and wrapped a hand around your throat. As if on cue, the lights suddenly turned off leaving you two in the dark.

He let out a small laugh as it went dark before he removed the hand on your hip and instead started pulling your pants down. 

“I'm gonna fuck you till you learn you're not in control, I am,” he says before pulling his own pants down. He wasn't going to play nice or take it easy. Not when you hadn't played nice with him. 

“You think you can fuck me into submission? You're way too fucking cocky,” you say with a quiet laugh, finding it amusing how he thought you'd fold once he started fucking you. “We’ll see,” he says, his grip around your throat tightening to shut you up. He pulled his boxers down slightly, enough to let his dick out, before he pushed your panties to the side.

“I'm gonna show you not to fuck with me again,” he whispers into your ear as he lines himself up with your entrance. Without another word, he starts slowly thrusting himself in till he's all the way inside you.

“You're such a fucking whore,” he says as he starts to pull out before thrusting in again with one stroke. He kept a pace of being fast and hard as if trying to make you feel his hate on a spiritual level. 

Well, God you could definitely feel it. He kept leaving aggressive bites all over your neck as he thrust into you. His hand around your neck kept its firm grip, enjoying the way you struggled to breathe. 

He wasn't fucking you for pleasure, he was fucking you to make you learn a lesson. He wanted to make you cum. He wanted to choke you till your vision got blurry. He wanted it to be clear he hated you with every fiber of his being. 

His free hand went down to your clit and he pinched it before rubbing it with a circular motion. He wasn't gentle so it brought a mix of both pain and pleasure. A feeling that brought you closer to the edge of a sweet, sweet release. He could feel you tighten around his cock and it made him let out a groan which turned into a small mocking laugh.

“Fuck, are you- going to cum? Already?” He says mockingly with a smirk. He took pleasure in knowing he could control you like this. Control someone who seemed to hate him. “C'mon, cum on my cock then, whore,” he said before pressing his lips to yours roughly. He forced his tongue into your mouth and he was clearly eager to get you to cum. 

With a slight angle of his hips, he thrusted into just the right spot that had you tipping far over the edge. He let out a groan at the feeling of you coming undone on his cock before he quickly pulled out. 

He released your throat and grabbed your hair instead before forcing you onto your knees. You looked up at him with a glare and he returned it with the corner of his mouth just barely quirked up. “suck my cock so I can come,” he said as he brought his cock closer to your mouth. He really didn't hesitate when you opened your mouth and immediately forced himself in with a groan at the feeling. 

“God.. do you taste yourself on my dick?” He says as he looks down at you. He thrusts into your mouth making you gag and he just laughed like it was the funniest thing in the world. “You're such a fucking bitch when you talk shit. I like you better like this,” he speaks as he mercilessly thrusts into your mouth, his tip hitting the back of your throat over and over again.

“I'm gonna cum in your mouth and you're gonna swallow, yeah?” He says before throwing his head back with a groan. It didn't take long before you felt his cum run down your throat. He thrusted a little more as he came down from his high before finally pulling out of your mouth. There was drool running down your chin as he pulled his boxers and pants up before kneeling in front of you.

“Swallow my cum,” he orders as he tilts his head at you and waits. You look up at him before turning your head and spitting onto the floor instead. 

“I think I'll pass,” you say as you look up at him once again with a glare. Tension rose between you two again but this time, it was different. Sure, it was hate, but there was undeniably a different punishment waiting instead of an argument.

“Then I guess you haven't learnt your lesson,”

[kamitv]

Thinking about Sukuna who...

Hates you (affectionately).

If you expect the king of curses to ever admit his romantic and blissful emotions of love in regards to you, you'd have to (quite literally) be on the verge of death.

He says it a lot too. "I hate you," in place of saying the opposing three words. When you two first got together you found it odd but at some point, you realized that was his idiotic way of saying he loves you.

He'll always have this mean look on his face but sometimes, and only sometimes, you swear you'll find faint little hearts in his eyes when he looks at you. (Then again you might be delusional because look who the hell you're in love with anyway).

Always fucks you like he's mad at you.

Tying you up, choking you, biting you, scratching you-, oh the list goes on with the number of things this man does to you during sex.

He's so mean to you in bed, being sure to stuff you full of his cock(s) for hours on end until you're left completely ruined, and even then most times he doesn't want to stop. The only reason sex ends with him is simply because he pities your lack of stamina.

That, and it annoys him when you're so fucked-out that the sound of his name leaving your lips is barely over a whiney little whisper. Followed by that is usually the frustratingly small pushes you give him, babbling something about it being 'too much', even though your cunt is always saying quite the opposite.

Aside from that, he fucking loves when you're scratching at his back, leaving bright red marks he finds prettier than the dark tattoos decorating the rest of his muscular body. He'll be sure to admire take a look at them the following morning. Then, whenever said scars begin to heal, he'll be sure to remind you to create new ones for him-- he loves them most when they're fresh.

Requires your full undivided attention no matter what.

The moment your name leaves his lips, Sukuna expects every ounce of your attention on him. He doesn't care what you're doing, you're required to be focused on him whenever he requests your attention.

It's almost like he doesn't even 'request' your attention, he commands it. It's in the way he looks at you; the way he'd tip his head into whatever direction you're looking into just so you can understand the seriousness behind his request-- and yes, sometimes he could be saying something pointless like, "You looked foolish running around in the garden like that earlier," To which you'd happily respond to him with both a smile and a chuckle, "You were watching me?" And then he'd feel caught and cover it up with a roll of his eyes, "I always know your whereabouts, human."

Secretly loves having your eyes on his.

Or, he think he hides his love for the eye contact pretty well...

Though, you see right through all of that rather quickly. The way he always tips your chin up so that he can get a full look at your face all the time, tells you to keep looking at him no matter the situation-- he could be balls deep inside you and watching your eyes roll to the back of your head and yet he still expects them to eventually return to him.

Even when he's not looking at you he tells you to keep your eyes on him. It frightens you sometimes when you watch him look at something else and then you try to do the same only to flinch at the sound of his rough tone hitting your ears seconds later with a swift, "Did I say you could stop looking at me?"

Hates to see you upset.

As much as the man thrives in the displeasure of others, you're probably the only living thing that genuinely irks his nerves to see upset.

Even though he finds your little pouts and huffs of frustration as cute as ever, he only finds such expressions enjoyable when he's the cause of them. And even at that point, he doesn't exactly like seeing you mad with him. Sukuna already feels as though you should hate him as is so whenever you're actually mad at him for something (most likely killing someone after you've requested him not to do so) it makes his heart twinge in unfamiliar ways.

That's typically when he'll decide it's a good time to throw you a very rare, yet much appreciated compliment. A simple, "You look pretty today," somehow always distracts you from whatever it is you're mad about. Which makes him smirk-- he finds it endearing how easy it is to please you. (Though, he only finds it so endearing because he knows only he can bring you such joy so simply).

Has a tendency to treat you more like some kinda pet instead of a partner.

He truly doesn't mean to but it happens naturally for a curse who knows little of what it means to love someone.

Stuff like, "Fetch me another water, woman." "Sit." and, "Stay here." is often slipping from his lips without second thought. And no he doesn't mean to make you feel like a pet, it's simply the way he speaks to everyone and you're no exception.

Well, you weren't an exception until you explained that you don't like it when he speaks to you like you're some kind of dog. To which he teased you, "Yet you enjoy my praises?" Naturally, you were confused so your brows twisted up and he went on to elaborate, "When I call you a, or my 'good girl', you always tell me how it arouses you." Then you're sputtering out an embarrassed little, "T-That's different and you know it!" "It is still something I would say to a dog." He deadpans, like he always does when he's speaking to you. Your eyes roll and he smirks within the split second your gaze isn't on his, "Yes, but I'm talking about the other things you say." Folding those large bulky arms of his across his chest as he stands before you, "Ah, so you mean when I command you?" Sukuna asks for clarification. "Yes," You reply simply with your eyes returning to his Again, he acts clueless, "You told me you loved dominant men." "That's not what I-," Your face is met with your palm and you let out a heavy sigh before giving up on your little explanation, "Y'know what, never mind."

He pretends to have no idea what you were trying to express in that conversation but you later notice the difference in the way he talks you.

Knows you have a not-so-secret thing for his thighs.

And how can anyone blame you? He often covers them up, of course, but when you first found out he had such slutty tattoos decorating his upper thigh, you couldn't help but he enamored by them.

Though, when Sukuna caught wind of this, he instructs you to ride those same thighs you find 'slutty' and audibly describe to him in detail what it is you like about his thighs so much. So when you're prettily sitting atop him with little to no clothes, safe for the lingerie set he had made for you, all he can do is stare at you with that cocky ass smile of his, ignoring his aching cock whilst he listens to your whiney descriptions of how attractive you find his tattoos.

Loves bickering with you.

He’ll admit this one. Sukuna can’t get enough of getting on your nerves in a teasing manner.

Flicking your forehead mid conversation just to watch your brows twitch and your face twist up, cutting you off as you’re talking just to watch the way you shut yourself up or sometimes keep talking over him as if to compete with him, and disagrees with most of what you say just because.

“The sky is so beautiful today, ‘Kuna, look!” You once exclaimed as you enjoyed a rather peaceful walk with the curse, your arms wrapped snuggly around one of his. He barely spares the sky a glance before grumbling a response to you, “It looks horrid.” “Sukuna,” You huff in that scolding tone he seems to adore so much. Biting back a smirk, “Woman.” With a little groan, you give his bulky arm a nudge with your head, “Can’t you be serious just this once?” “I am being serious,” Sukuna deadpans before looking down at you and meeting your gaze— feeling proud to find your eyes are already on his. You’ve got this pout on your face now, “What’s so ‘horrid’ about the sky? Hm?” Words are flying past his lips faster than he intends to, almost like second nature as he takes in the features of the only human to have every captured his attention, “It doesn’t look like you.” “I-,” You’re smiling immediately, “What?” “Nothing.” Oh how you adore when he does that — compliment you and then get all shy about it, his eyes darting elsewhere, “Awww, Kuna-“ “I’ll kill you, brat,” Sukuna cuts you off crisply as he tugs you further along the long path you’re headed down. “You love mee,” You reply in a nagging tone, flashing the man the brightest smile you can muster. And of course, he’ll never deny that but he also refuses to say those three words to you so, instead, he’s smirking slightly before responding with an expected command of, “Silence, human.”

Will never admit to being jealous.

Despite it being so obvious— he’ll always deny it when you ask.

He walked in on Uraume showing you how to properly prepare a meal one time and decided to nudge his personal chef out of the way just to show you himself. Muttering something about it being ‘easier’ if he shows you himself.

Sukuna often threatens those who have their eyes on you for any longer than five seconds at a time, even if you’re literally talking to them. And yes, yes he’s counting every second.

Has the most degrading nicknames for you.

“Whore.”

His “cockhungry slut.”

“Needy bi-“ He got hit for trying this one out without your permission.

“Brat.”

“Stupid woman.”

“Foolish human.”

But when he does say something affectionate— it typically consists of; “angel”, “perfect”, “beautiful”, “heaven in his hands”, y’know, the usual.

Finds his emotions only ever confusing him when you're around.

His heart feels strange in his chest when you give him small touches.

He can’t stop his breath from hitching in intimate moments when you’re running your fingertips along his jawline and studying his face closely.

You kissed the tip of his nose one time and whispered something about how handsome he was and Sukuna swears he’s never felt the need to protect and savor something more in his life.

If he were ever to lose you, he’d wreak havoc on the rest of the earth until you’re miraculously reborn, of age, into this world once more. (His words, not mine)

Loves your tits more than any other part of your body.

Sukuna likes playing with them for some odd reason. Like a big baby with a sensory video, flash your tits at the man and he can’t think of anything else aside from the soft flesh he’s toying with in his palms.

And he has two pairs of hands so he makes use of them quite often. Approaching you from behind, grabbing your waist with one set of hands and your breasts with the other— he’ll grope your tits and lean down to your ear to whisper about how soft and perfect you are for him.

Dislikes when you make him speechless.

And you do it often too. Each time he sees you, he only feels his words fading over and over again.

The first time he saw you in a red and black kimono constructed specifically for your figure, he felt all thoughts and words leaving him and the only thing on his body still working properly was his cock(s).

You notice how every time you call the curse ‘handsome’ he goes quiet for a moment longer than normal. He’ll stare at you like you’d said something foreign for a few minutes before muttering something along the lines of, “Stop telling me things I’m already aware of, brat.” But, his face is shaded a different hue of red and his eyes wander elsewhere for just a second.

Has and would kill anyone for you or because of you.

This, you have to scold him about. In the beginning of your relationship with the king of curses, he would dispose of people as if their lives had no true value— all for the sake of you.

You had to beg the man for months straight to let go of that sinful habit of his and almost did. The only difference in his killings now versus then is that you don’t know about them. Or, he trues to make sure you don’t know (he’s not that good at keeping things from you).

Is happiest when you call him certain names.

“My lord” “My king” “‘Kuna” “Handsome” but he’ll never admit to his preference for these nicknames over other ones you may call him.

A/N: lmk if there are any errors — this isn’t proofread!

[nochepsicodelica]

NSFW

Sitting on Toji's lap, watching TV together as he knocks back a couple beers. He keeps the bottle nestled between your legs when he's not sipping on it, his arm resting on your upper thigh area while his other hand mindlessly rubs and grabs at your tummy over your shirt. Every once in a while he leans in close to press a kiss to your temple and checks in on you. You can smell the alcohol on his breath, but he's pretty well behaved for being intoxicated, you think.

You don't know if he's occasionally rubbing the bottle against your crotch on purpose or if it's something he's unknowingly doing. Maybe he's fidgeting with it to give his hand something to do. You scoot back, away from the bottle, just incase he isn't doing it on purpose.

He stills the movement of his hand when you shift in his lap, moving away from where he keeps his bottle. "Am I making you uncomfortable?" He asks, his warm breath fanning against your ear. His free hand moves down to squeeze your inner thigh, the joint of his thumb grazing your pelvis.

"No, you're okay," you respond, putting your hand on his, turning briefly to smile at him before facing the TV again.

Toji progressively moved the bottle so that it ended up back between your thighs, the body of it rubbing up against you again, causing you to jolt at the sensation.

"What's wrong, pretty?" he murmurs, into your ear, his lips curled into a devilish smirk.

"The bottle..." you mumble, coy about addressing what's had your firm attention for a while now.

He peeks down at the evidence, his chin resting on your shoulder as he looks at the way the bottle is pushed snug up against your cunt.

"You're dirty, mama," he teases, a deep chuckle rumbling through his chest. "You're liking it, aren't you?"

"What? You're the one trying to get me off with your-"

"Shh..." once again you're met with a whiff of the alcohol lingering on his breath. You can taste remnants of it through the sloppy, wet kisses he steals from you. "You're liking it, aren't you?" He repeats, grinning at your flustered expression. "Look at her, look at her," he says, which only makes your cheeks burn even more, when he laughs, mockingly. "You are."

You sigh. He may be drunk, but he's not wrong.

"Say it, baby," he purrs, into your neck. "Say it and i'll make you cum sooo hard." He teases you with a rub of the bottle against your clothed clit.

"Fucking hell," you mutter under your breath, feeling pathetic for giving in to his game. "Fine. I liked it. It felt good. Is that what you wanna hear?"

"Fuck yeah. Wanna make my pretty girl cum in her shorts," he says, immediately rubbing the body of the bottle against your crotch.

"I-If i'm dirty..." you release a sharp breath. "Then you're a pervert."

"Mhm. All for you, sweetheart." He palms at your chest over your tank top, squeezing while moving his hand in circles. He can feel your stiffened nipples through the thin material. He takes turns rolling the clothed buds between fingers to make sure that they stay stiff, but also because he knows how turned on you get when he plays with your breasts. "Such a dirty girl," he says, sultrily, into your ear. "Letting me get you off with a beer bottle. Little freak." You arch off his chest, in his lap, a short barrage of whimpers reaching his ears. He pulls you back into him, his arm firm over your chest. "Doesn't take away from how pretty you are." His voice is so deep, you can feel it in your guts.

"Toji-"

"No, it fuckin' doesn't," he growls, into your ear. "'S why i've always got my hands on you, tryna fuck like some filthy dog. Mmm... baby, just can't help myself around you. I'm not gonna stop. Can't do it."

You whimper, writhing against him as he continues to grind the bottle against your cunt. His rambling shouldn't be as hot as it is, but god, you don't want him to shut up. It's fueling how close you are to cumming because of how he maneuvers the stupid bottle.

"You wet for me? Soaked?"

"Fuck- Yes, Toji," you moan, hands gripping at his thighs.

He hums, content with your response. "Yeah? Gonna cum?" His hand goes beneath your shirt to feel your bare skin on it. He drives his palm up your torso, towards your chest, his fingertips meeting your left nipple, rubbing until it's stiffened like before.

"Mhm," you nod. "Please... Please!"

"Such a loud, needy little thing. I can feel your heat making its way up the bottle." He laughs, again, like he's making fun of you for being so turned on for his perverse actions. Like he wasn't the one who started this. Scarred lips attach to the nape of your neck, kissing gently like he's apologizing for being mean. "Cum for me, baby," he says, speeding up the movement of the bottle against your clit. He rolls your nipple between his fingers, and your body instantly reacts.

"Oh fuck, T-Toji, fuck, oh my god," you cry out, falling into the void of pleasure produced by this unorthodox object. You trap the bottle between your thighs and grind against it, greedily taking control of your pleasure. Toji holds the bottle still and just watches you, his tired eyes absorbing every one of your movements and expressions as you shamelessly ride out your entire orgasm.

"Fuck..." you whimper, eyes shut as your hips stutter to a halt.

He pulls his hand out of your shirt, entirely speechless for a few seconds. You didn't even notice, too far into your post orgasm bliss.

Toji sighs, feeling as tired as you because of the alcohol. He turns the TV off and takes the bottle out from between your thighs, setting it down on the ground before putting your dazed self into a more comfortable position to sleep in—curled up against his chest. "You're so hot, baby... Too bad I can't fuck you like this," he mumbles, tiredly.

"Mhm," you hum, already dozing off. Toji lays his head back on the couch cushion and shuts his eyes. In less than a minute, he falls asleep, too.

[buckyalpine]

18+ Minors dni. I'm currently obsessed with the thought of Bucky making his pretty girl take it. I'm talking him keeping you caged under him with your legs wrapped around his waist while his arm are wrapped tightly around your body. This type of energy comes out when he's pissed. Stressed. Jealous. He's going to remind you exactly who you belong to and my favourite thing about this is imagine you didn't even know what happened. Maybe he overheard some agents talking about how irresistible you are. So cute and pretty and they'd give anything to-

Nope. The thought alone of anytone touching what's his has him storming off, hauling you over to mark you in the most primal way possible. Remind everyone who you belong to. He plucks you up from whatever you're doing and carries you over his shoulder like a beast; you're naked on his bed seconds later. He plows into you, hips slamming his cock into your very soaked cunt, unapologetically fucking you with the deepest moans. He sounds so feral. He is feral.

"Feels-so-good, such a good girl, letting me put my big dick in you"

Those grunts and groans he lets out show just how selfish he's being because he's focused on how fucking good you're making his dick feel. You're so soft but you make his cock so hard. You're such an angel for him, spreading your legs for him the second he set you down. He'd been torn between wanting to ravish you immediately or taking a second to throw his clothes off. He decides he needs you to fucking smell like him when this is all over, have every bit of his scent covering your skin. He wants to feel every bit of you all over him.

No one else would ever get to have you like this. Feel your naked breasts on their chest. Feel your soft tummy press against theirs. Feel the plushness of your thighs squeezing their waist. Feel your silky walls squeeze and milk their cocks till they're all soft and sensitive.

They'd hear you though.

They'd hear every moan and Bucky would make sure of that.

"Whose cock is making you scream baby, tell me" He growls, your combined arousal making a mess on the bed.

"Y-OURS-" You hiccup, choking back a sob as he snakes his had to wrap around your throat. Damn right. His fucking cock. His dick in your pussy. Not the stupid little boys who think they have a chance to even breathe the same air. His pretty, pink, fat fucking cock destroying you to his heart's content, stretching you open as much as he wants. "J-JAMES"

"That's right, say my name baby, say the name of your man who fucks you this good, let everyone hear" He's already turned off all the sound proofing and maybe he left his door a crack open. Maybe.

"Jaamesss" You sound so gone, cockdrunk over the way the spongy head of his dick kisses that sensitive spot that makes you squirt cream with each of his thrusts. "Don't st-stop, please-fuck-me-Jamie" Your voices slurs and turns into a whine as your eyes roll back. For such a sweet princess, you sound like an absolute slut when he's inside you and he wouldn't have it any other way.

"Mhphhm, sound so pretty, gonna make me blow, let me empty my balls in you" He starts to fuck you faster causing the headboard to shake, the whole bed creaking with his movements. "M'gonna cum angel-oh shittt-"

He nearly whimpers when he feels your doe eyes looking up at him with your ankles locked around his waist; he knows exactly what that means.

"You want it inside you huh, want my cum in you baby, s'that it?"

"Want-it-please, can't hold it" you cling onto him tighter and Bucky can't last any longer.

"Cum with me, together, c'mon angel, cum with me, yes, fuck yes, can feel you-fuck-" He begs, needing those little boys who spoke about you to hear exactly what they're missing out on, "OH GOD, FUCKKK" He doesn't hold back as he gives into his orgasm, your name dripping of his lips while you sob and squeal.

I want him to give you the softest aftercare. Tell you what a good girl you were for him. How much he loves and adores you, how special you are to him.

I want him to have the most smug expression on his face when he goes back down. He's such a little shit. He passes by a cackling Tony and a wheezing Sam. Not one agent dares look him in the eye. Steve may be blushing but he'll give credit where credit is due. His best friend sent a very clear message. Bucky is a possessive, loving, horny little shit and I need it.

Need it now.

[eraserbread]

jealous hubby nanami? 🤷🏻‍♀️🩷🥹

guys... i think satoru likes us. don't tell nanami.

➽─────────────────────────────❥

nanami's about to jump across the table.

one more touch out of satoru, and he'll ring the fucker alive.

there he goes, touching your shoulder again...

nanami's sitting across from you, satoru, and utahime, forced to show up to a welcome back dinner party he didn't even want. however, you planned it and spent so much time and energy into making it perfect, he had to show. i mean, you planned it at the house and invited all his coworkers, so he didn't really have a choice

only one huge, blinding issue -- satoru gojo, the fucking meathead. of course, he'd been talking your ear off all night, mentioning himself as the strongest and you as the prettiest. it's so glaringly obvious he's trying to piss his inferior off, because he looks right at ken when he mutters to you:

"didn't take you as a lady who likes the... big, mean ones."

"well, we started dating when we were nineteen. he was lankier then."

satoru hums in your ear, eyes covered as he leans a little bit closer. "so, you like 'em lanky?"

"... satoru. " nanami demands over his glass, keeping an ear for whatever ieiri is spilling him to his right. he's been locked-eyed on you all night—you wrapped up in your pretty little blue dress he picked for you. he wanted you to be his eye candy tonight, not satoru's and all his womanizing tendencies.

the familiar sound of his name has satoru giving nanami a glance from over his glasses. "ah, I know, I know. it's just so hard to believe... nonclanant, mean little kento got married before me."

"you're not the brightest... or the most respectful." nanami sips down his drink, muttering something else in the liquid neither you or satoru could make out. 'that's probably why.'

"ouch."

satoru backs off a touch after that, but its when you entertain him in further conversation, laughing at his stupid jokes, does kento finally stand from his seat.

"could you help me grab something from the kitchen, nanami?" he rounds the table, leaning down with a hand pressed to your shoulder.

"oh," you hum, eyes flicking from the rest of his co-workers, entertained by themselves and the others around them. it wouldn't cause too much of a stir if you left, so you agree.

not like you had much choice.

"i can't even begin to explain how uncomfortable I was watching you out there." ken begins immediately, not bothering with keeping his voice down because he's upset. dare he say, he's pissed. "satoru doesn't give you an unlimited budget, does he? he doesn't pin you down every night and fuck you so hard you forget how to breathe."

he curses and you're taking a tiny step back. you didn't realize he got so mad, and he was mad. you can see it in the way he's crossing his arms around his chest, big fingers digging into his own muscle like he's punishing himself.

"ken, i'm not attracted to him. we've been married for four years, i-" you stop, pedaling over your words carefully. "he's charming, but you're my husband. i love you."

"you love me, but don't respect me?"

you could tell him he's wrong, gentle-parent him for getting his mind all twisted, but his words are cruel and baseless right now, so you match the energy.

"there's no way you're insecure."

"it's about respect," now, he's raising his voice.

you raise your eyebrows. "and you know I respect you, what is the issue, here?!" once you start yelling back, kento caves, fingers working hot at his leather belt.

"i'm not fighting with you, just get on your knees."

read part 2? <3

[vicorices]

⋆｡𖦹°‧ safe heaven.

side notes — basically after she's injured she has nowhere to go but your place. ex!girlfriend sevika, i always see fics where she's is a psycho ex but i actually think sevika is a lone wolf turned puppy when her heart melts, take it or leave it.

masterlist! // requests open ! // 2.5k

18+ mdni, men go away, thigh grinding, titty love, fingering, dirty talk, pet names, slight degradation/dumbification blink and miss it, ass play, spit, there are descriptions of a 'wound', but i'm no doctor sorry if you are.

it’s not fair she’s so into you.

makes her weak cause she has to surrender to you in the end, no choices allowed cause she knows, deep down, it's not going to stop as much as she'd like it to. not when you're grinding on her leg like that, when you're coating her skin with your arousal so deliberately, you make her look down just to find out the wet splotch in your underwear getting bigger and bigger with each roll of your hips, the moans filling the air of your living room — sevika has no use but to let you get off from something so simple as riding her thigh, mainly ‘cause it's a personal need too.

"you're takin' good care of me, aren't you sweet girl?" now usually, she does a better work staying away from you, avoiding you as much as it's possible; but it gets difficult when she knocks on your door at three in the morning, bleeding out and capable of tossing her pride aside in no time, whatever cost it may bring. "lift up your shirt and let me see those pretty tits, i deserve to see more of my girl."

well fuck, when did it get so personal?

must be when you have told her not to come near your street several times, a non-spoken rule she respects until she has nowhere to go, opening the door so damn mad she thought you were going to kick her out for a second cause she can help but be a damn flirt around you, leaning into the wall even when she's bleeding — seeking for your attention.

it's always like that when she gets too attached to someone, as much as she tries to avoid it she ends ups carrying them too close to her heart: silco in the moment, crazy ass jinx, that damn kid who’s always following, she gives loyalty like dog, so it's suffocating. cause you don't kick her out like she secretly wishes to, but instead, you push her inside, helping her walk to your sofa as you kneel between her legs, bitching about not being a doctor, about not being able to help her as you look at the cut closely.

and sevika knows she shouldn't have come to see you cause you look so damn inviting it's annoying, alluring with those big eyes you give as you look up to her, the concentrated face as your fingers shake over her skin, helping her out like she asks you to, shivering under her words of encouragement when you're sewing her skin back together after five minutes of pure whining.

it’s safe to say it slowly consumes her, your breathing against her sore skin. does things for her, half delirious for the amount of times she's been trying to excuse herself by saying she's dizzy from blood loss, a fucking lie you can tell already — “stay there for a while” she asks when you finish, cupping your face in the palm of her flesh hand, thumb rubbing against your cheek, tracing the outline of your lips afterwards "there's not a single thing you do wrong huh? not even stitch me up on a lonely friday night."

“what are you doing?”

“you know damn well what i’m doing, bunny. i miss you," everything's so fast after that, her voice is husky as she speaks, playing with the strands of your hair, twirling it in her index finger, relishing the sensation of you close to her once again — "i miss you. fuck i miss you so much it's burning me alive."

it's an old habit, it's enough to make you crumble cause you're allowing her to make you sit on her leg, gasping as the cold metal of her mechanic arm holds you down while the other caress your side without a rush: she has nowhere to be but there, with you on her lap.

you'd like to be difficult now, play hard to get even, but it's so right in the moment, like you've been craving it for weeks you don’t dare to say a single word — "you're going to pull out your stitches like that" you mutter instead, voice raspy when she's moving your hair to the side, sucking on the skin of your neck until she's sure it will leave a mark behind, reminders of all being real. "sev-"

"i can handle pain, i don't care" sevika fully believes it, squeezing the skin of your waist. she missed having you like that — "don’t make up excuses, just tell me to stop. tell me if you want me to leave, cause i won’t do it on my own."

it’s tempting, yet you cannot say it as you stare at her, at her gray eyes, the new haircut and the blueish scar in her cheek: you want her there. "you’re injured, you’re not going anywhere like that."

“no,” she shakes her head in denial, not quite the answer she expected to hear — “tell me you want me to stay cause you want me to, not because of a wound. because you miss me too.”

greedy bitch. she’s enjoying every second of it, knowing damn well she got you under her skin already, that she can get out a response from you every time she puts a finger on your skin. “you know i miss you."

fuck her pride. fuck anything else but the taste of your lips, the sounds you make when you enjoy something too much muffled against sevika’s hungry cavity. it’s almost feverish as her tongue rolls inside your mouth, squeezing your cheeks as she stoles the air from your lungs, your heart racing by the seconds.

that’s how you got to that point at least, cause she's kissing you dumb for a moment and the next one she's holding your ass with a tight grip, pushing you against her just to make you remind her about her stitches, her recent wounded state, but in all honesty she's not really listening to any bitching, no; sevika's deeply lost in her senses, the sight of you getting messier with each one of her kisses, the scent of the bubble-gum induced taste in your mouth mixing up with her own saliva — the engulfed moans that somehow makes you look needier than you already are.

and you're not telling her to leave, not receiving any complain as her flesh hand tugs on the fabric of your shirt like a fair warning that you already know what it means, you're not being rational cause you miss her deeply, so much time needing her you cannot help but give in, even when you'd call yourself insane sooner or later.

"i miss you," it's like a poem sevika wishes to hear over and over again, how you, very much like her, are being thrown at a constant state of aching. "i miss you a lot, and it's not fair. keeping me around like this-"

your hand rest over the stitches you covered with gauze, and fuck, she must be damn tripping, cause you're straddling her lap, shirt riding over your stomach giving her the damn royal treatment and you have the decency of being careful with her, gentle.

no. she does not want to be in love, not ever again, but she's betrayed once again as her silent big heart is choking because she's seeing you again, falling apart like you used to, taking the privilege of something so private for herself, surrendering to an act of pure war and love cause that's what she came for in the first place, you.

"don't move. i can do it for us both," do you have any idea of how difficult it gets for her? with you speaking like that? "please. don't bleed out on my couch. need you alive tomorrow, don't move much."

"you're takin' good care of me, aren't you sweet girl?" — your hips began to move against her tight and it's like you want to show her how much you love grinding on her leg like a fucking puppy, how you missed the pleasure she can only bring, how you been missing her."lift up your shirt and let me see those pretty tits, i deserve to see more of my girl."

she lights the cigarette you were smoking cause she don't want to piss you off, enjoying the simple pleasures of life cause she loves it when you take control, giving you space to remove your shirt only to let her see you fully, the sweat going down your skin, the movements in your waist as you try to ride her better.

hell of a show.

and even as you try to muffle your moans, it's pretty impossible when your underwear sticks to your pussy cause of the stupid amount of arousal that now stains the fabric, the constant contact with her pants that being so sensitive makes you docile, compliant to any of her wishes, the hungry look she gives you comfortably seated, the weight of sevika's gaze traveling from your half lidded eyes down your chest until between your legs, a triumph half-smile on her lips as as the smell of your apple tobacco fills the air.

"you're dripping in my pants baby, can't wait f'me to take them off?" she asks, and her fingers create this line as they touch from your neck to your mount, stopping over your breasts, kneading them in her whole hand — "can't be this wet just for riding me bunny, i haven't even touched you yet. do you miss me that much ma'? miss being my pretty whore?"

she knows where to touch, where to kiss as if she forgot about the damn pain in her sore muscles, like the entire world narrows down to you. the cigarette consumes on the ashtray as she leans to suck on your already hard nipples, tongue roaming from one to another, tugging and biting at her will before you make her breathing hitch on her throat — "stay with me tonight."

it's a bad idea, but your hand guides hers down to your cunt and it's physically impossible for sevika to say no to you, deny your wishes cause she's so down to give you whatever you need, an invitation that makes her chest full of pride as she makes your underwear to the side, quickly coating them with clear gush as they slide between your soaked folds.

"vika-" whatever you might say dies in your tongue, gets lost in the air as two fingers come up to your swollen clit, sensitive already against her touches that do not go past the necessary, a back and forth motion that pushes you tantalizingly close to the edge — "baby."

"want to you feel you through my pants," your hole is clenching around nothing, forcing you to move as her mechanic hand shoves you against her leg. "be good and cum all over your pretty underwear."

your body shakes involuntarily, cause it only takes her muscular thigh, dirty words and her fingers on your clit to make you act up all desperate, a loud moan escaping your lips when finally reach your much desired peak, watching in awe how you disintegrate for a moment and everything seems to become meaningless.

"i cannot touch you with these on," sevika mutters seconds after, not close to having enough as she pulls on the string of your soaked underwear, unusable now as she makes you stand between her legs before she's all over you, struggling to keep the hands to herself as she hugs you, gripping the curve of your ass to pull you against her, face resting right over your waist as your hand caress the black strands of her recently trimmed hair.

you’ve heard it before, the advice you tend to ignore: she’s no good for you, she's no good for you as she makes you turn around, coaxing you with praises only to have you bend right over the waist, when she makes your underwear fall to the ground and you're leaning to bare yourself to her eyes only.

and it makes sevika salivate, needy at it's worst when she can notice your wet folds, the way you're dripping down, creamy white right in your untouched hole, messy and asking for more. your clit’s already puffy, pushing her to just touch, make you beg for more so she's weak, weak as keeps you there, showing your ass like it was all her's to take, warm and pliant as she plunges two fingers inside your needy cunt, slowly making room for her thick digits until she’s stretching you open.

your legs shake as sevika's fingers sink inside, and she's so eager to see, the zaunite finds herself moving to have a better view of the traces of your already wet cunt sticking to her hand, of your pussy already twitching, sucking her back in.

"look at this" the woman trails off, drunk on the sight of you spread in front of her eyes, the bliss when you're looking at her from over your shoulder with a cheeky smile that will stick on her memory — "makin' space for me s'good bunny, can you hear that? the sounds of your cunt taking me perfectly?"

there's no time for answering cause sevika's taking, too high on you, on the reactions of your body as she spreads you open, kissing on your ass cheeks before her face's there and her tongue is pushing against your pucker hole, gathering a good amount of saliva to spit on it.

"mmf-please," you loudly whine "m'gonna cum-"

sevika wants the moment to linger, make you cum over and over again but she cannot stop when she's seeing the transparent color of her saliva mix up with your arousal as her fingers fucked you at a much faster pace now. her nose darts against your skin, and she has to help you stand when she's licking your rear so eagerly, circling the ring, teasing you with focused licks, pushing dangerously against your tight hole.

and the sight of it is nasty, blush creeps upon your neck as her mechanic arm grabs your hand to place it in your back, the slam of her own fingers almost irritating her as they make you move forward with each thrust, far from her mouth.

sevika’s oblivious for a second. it's not her fault either way, cause you cum right in her fingers, panting out your ex-girlfriend's name as your body goes limp and she has to take you right in her arms cause you cannot seem to hold your own weight.

it’s imposible to think about the stitches, and more importantly — about the fact that she cannot stay by any means. no when you're always better off without her in the picture.

could it get any better in her safe heaven?

[nereidprinc3ss]

stakeout

in which spencer reid and flirty!reader are stuck in a car together with nothing to entertain themselves but each other.

fluff! warnings/tags: fem!reader, they have little crushes on each other, some of you will not like reader, but spencer does, it’s all banter, lots of teasing, playful insults, jokes about handcuffing so suggestive jokes i guess, so cheesy, reader enjoys flustering spencer, written with earlier seasons spencer in mind a/n: bandages!reader and spencer are so back!! i missed them!! this is SOOO cheesy! cheesiest thing ever! thank you to the person who requested this!!! thank you for giving me an excuse to just write cheesy banter!!! yyyayyyy!!! ilysm

“I am so fucking bored. Am I allowed to say that?”

It’s exactly the kind of thing Spencer should expect you to say, and maybe when you first joined the team it would’ve made him squirm, but now as you drop your binoculars and give him a look, bored, head tilted to shoulder, like you're waiting to be entertained, he only shrugs. Your insouciance is one of the things you know he’s come to love about you and would probably never admit. 

“Who’s going to stop you?”

You bump his shin with the toe of your leather boot and he glances down only momentarily before he’s raising his own binoculars to pick up your slack. 

“You. You don’t like when I swear.”

Spencer makes a face that you can only see the bottom half of. His voice is strained with focus. “Where did you get that idea?”

“Where? The faces you always make. You’re a judgy little bitch, you know that?”

“I don’t judge you for swearing. Frequent and creative use of profanity is correlated with a broader vernacular and greater social intelligence.”

“Oh, shut up. Yes you do.”

“You’re punchy tonight.” The leather of your seat squeaks underneath you as you slide down and groan, loudly. Spencer grimaces as he reaches over, gently swatting your shoulder with the back of his hand. “You should try to be louder. They might not have heard you.”

Your jaw drops indignantly. “Wh—the house is like 300 feet away! They’ve been blasting music all night. And not even, like… good music.”

“What, you don’t like death metal?”

You give him a side-eye. “Do you?”

He shrugs, giving up on the binoculars. A strand of hair has fallen over his face. You fight the urge to fix it. “I don’t know. It’s loud. And grating. And incessant. It begs for attention shamelessly and tactlessly. I’m kind of used to it.”

“Watch your mouth,” you scoff. “It would be a shame if I had to ruin that gorgeous face of yours.”

Spencer smirks and shakes his head disapprovingly, cheeks dusted scarlet. 

“You just can’t help yourself.”

“Who could around you, baby? Look at the bone structure on you. And those sweater vests. Can’t believe you walk around like that. It’s distracting.”

“Baby?” He grumbles, like he’s utterly displeased, but the way he’s losing a fight against that smile tells you otherwise. You lean your head against the headrest, boring your eyes right into his profile and giving him the opportunity for some searing eye contact, should he take you up on it. But for some reason, he can’t seem to look away from the steering wheel. 

“Do you choose them just for me?”

There are those pretty eyes—on you for maybe a second before they’re darting away. He fiddles with the binoculars in his lap. It’s adorable how much he doesn’t know what to do with himself when you get like this. Morgan once likened it to a cat batting around a mouse. Don’t play with your food, he told you. Take a little pity on the poor kid. He doesn’t know what he’s up against. 

But Morgan’s not here right now. 

“What?”

“Do you pick out your little sweater vests because you know I like them? ’Cause, you know—I also like when you just do a button up. The blazers, too. Those are sexy. But if I had to pick, it would be the sweater vests.”

You reach over to straighten out the grey one he’s got on right now, and he entertains your fiddling for only a moment before catching your wrist in a considerate hold. 

“Alright, can you—can you behave? Please?” He laughs. Unfortunately it makes your stomach flip. 

“Probably not. You could try cuffing me.”

“Or,” he begins, carefully pressing your own hand to your chest, “we could keep our hands to ourselves.”

You pout. “Where’s the fun in that?”

“Where’s the fun in getting yelled at if Hotch has to come and unlock you because I dropped the key between the seats?”

“So it’s a maybe on the handcuffs?”

He falls back, eyes fluttering shut like you’re exhausting him, and offering you the perfect vantage point to admire that jawline of his. 

“Alright. Five minutes.”

There’s no way he’s actually taking you up on this. 

“Five minutes of what?”

His head rolls over his shoulder and he gives you a look of his own. “Of silence. I’m begging.”

Oh. 

Well then. 

You settle back in your seat and swing your own binoculars around by the strap. 

“You know, you’d be bored to tears right now if it weren’t for me.”

“I count myself lucky every day,” he says. And despite the sarcastic tone, you actually believe him. 

A moment passes, during which the bubbly tension of your shared repartee fades into a sincere comfortable silence. 

You kick your feet up on the dash. “How about I cuff you? Is that more your speed?”

You’re already grinning when he answers, not bothering to take your eyes off the house outside. 

“You are… astoundingly inappropriate.”

“Well a girl has to try, Spencer.”

[wonryllis]

the hot dad next door (m) | park sunghoon.

﹙ 🎬 ﹚ ぃ ────𝗶𝗳 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗵𝗼𝘁 𝗱𝗮𝗱 𝗻𝗲𝘅𝘁 𝗱𝗼𝗼𝗿 𝘄𝗮𝗻𝘁𝘀 𝘆𝗼𝘂?

preview. the ever quintessential first time dad moves in next door with his five year old and finds it impossible not to fall for you, the pretty girl who gives his daughter cookies and him; the doll eyes. obsessed with your entire being, unable to keep his hands off you, park sunghoon questions if he's just crazy or he's crazy over you.

or where, he notices the way you look at his hands a little too long for it to be innocent.

meet the cast. single dad!park sunghoon with his pretty neighbour fem!reader.

genre. DILFF AUU !!, SMUT MDNI, fluff, neighbours to lovers, sunghoon is quite literally yes insanely crazed over you and for the sake of god can't keep his dick soft, domestic a little bit i guess, i want to make her my wife trope EEEKKK, slight age gap (hoon in late twenties and reader in early twenties) more to be added.

word count. est around 20k or more

warnings. inaccuracies about parenting cause i aint a parent, i got no idea. more will be mentioned in the actual post.

releasing. TBD , progress update tag , second preview

park sunghoon was hot, he was a walking greek god. was single and wore these fitted suits that had you weak in the knees. if that wasn't hot enough, park sunghoon also had the cutest baby girl you had ever come across and it just made him hotter than he could ever have been.

"hey, um .. is ji—" sunghoon stands at the threshold of your open apartment door, one hand holding his creased blazer and the other rubbing at the back of his neck. embarrassed and shy at having to show up at yours looking like a mess after work because his daughter ran off while he was busy on a call and taking out her school bag from the backseat. and because everytime his daughter ran off, it was to the pretty girl next door who gives away sweet cookies all the time.

"is jia here? yeah she's in the kitchen," you answer, smiling soft and knowingly at the worried guy who barely looked like a dad. he worked in a corporate editorial, out before eight in the morning just as you prepared ingredients for your bakery. taking his daughter along to school, her excited voice resonating through the halls talking about how they were going to play with clay in class. around seven in the evening you'd hear her again, this time alone as she would skip over to your door because dada was too slow.

on weekends it'd be impossible to ignore the ruckus they made playing around, sometimes inviting you over for lunch because sunghoon apparently made too much and jia wanted to share her dada's delicious food. on some occasional weekends when he'd be called in to work for a few hours, jia would promise him to stay home and behave only to call you through the landline the moment he'd step out the door. and you would text sunghoon to come over to yours after work, his daughter munching on the new flavored cupcakes you made, unbothered about her dad and his scoldings.

"come on in, i made some almond lime tart, you could give me some feedbacks along with jia. you know she always says it's good and i can never know if it's actually good," sunghoon can't help but chuckle at that, slipping off his shoes by the front and walking inside. his eyes following your figure with a fond look as you tend to his daughter delicately, and might he admit— even more so than him.

you're sweet, you know how to handle kids; cue that one time jia was crying her eyes out after school and he had no idea what to do to comfort her, knocking at your door frantically and having his mind blown at how quickly you figured things out and calmed her down.

you're sweet, you know how to handle kids, you treat them both so well, always ready to help him out with jia, giving them sweet treats every other day and most of all— you're fucking pretty. way too pretty for him to handle.

FIRST TAGLIST (open.) @s00buwu @lilyuwon @pockyyasii @nctislifue @shawnyle @enhastolemyheart @belowbun @aaa-sia @niniissus @tobiosbbyghorl @imjakes-wifeofc1 @youresolivlie @eun-cherry @kimsunoops @aiden2001 @brownsugarbaybee @pockettwinzz @bangtancultsposts @diorikis @heelvsted @crimnalseung @iselltulips @yzzyhee @woniebae @river-demon-slayer @lovingvoidgoatee @antonsgirlfriend @kpopslover @bugcattie @slut4hee @yunjinswifee @woniefull @nanaheex @soobs-things @dammit-jjk @starlvcieszsq @mnxnii @skylaly @mintdsunoo @uyuchoco @anittamaxwynnn @rikiwaify-blog @kill4jl @ggparkjh @sstephenzz @judeduartewannabe @jungwoneez @aye2611-blog @hybeboyenthusisast @minjaexvz

[thecoochiefairy]

gamer girlz. onyankopon.

𑄽𑄺 warnings 𑄽𑄺 4.6K word count. blackfem!reader, drabble, college football coded! onyankapon, grumpy!onyankapon, sweet!onyankapon, dominant!onyankapon, kinda sorta makeup sex?, couch sex , black woman, vaginal penetration, rough, lil bit of sweet talkin’, hair pulling, creaming, oral [f] [m], choking, praising, LOTS of dirty talk, backshots, missionary, condomless sex, cumming on face, kissing, spanking, just a fine ass black man, minors aren’t welcome!

━━ 𝒄𝙤𝒐𝙘𝒉𝙞𝒆𝙛𝒂𝙞𝒓𝙮 𝙩𝒉𝙤𝒖𝙜𝒉𝙩𝒔 .ᐟ day 283737272 of liyah’s ovulation and faithful celibacy pact meaning she’s having the most nasty, egregious thoughts. please enjoy my black man fantasies. the links inspired this fic heavily, so enjoy those too.

𝓐ᥫ᭡ :: onyankopon just wants to help you finish your game.

link. link. link. ony’s visuals.

YOUR FINGERS SHOULD'VE HURT AT THIS POINT. Swiftly moving from button to button, they tap the controls as you’re on another level of the game you desperately wanted to beat.

You had some time off of studying, and this is how you wanted to spend it. Your boyfriend was at football practice—although a part of you just wanted to be swarmed up in his arms, your attention span also had you elsewhere—this damn game. You enjoyed the older games, replaying the hardest version of Batman: Arkham Asylum, your boredom peaking your interest back in the game you’d had since childhood. 

You didn’t even register that the door had opened, or maybe you didn’t just care enough. You knew who it was. You eye him dropping his keys against the counter, black hoodie over his head, sharp jaw grunting lightly from his sore muscles, scowl along his face—definitely had to do with practice. 

You pause the game for a second, turning your face to the side, fuzzy socks along your feet, his large jersey slung along your body as you greet him, “Hell, baby. What they’ do to you?” 

“Coach was on dick today. Had me running laps cause other niggas couldn’t catch the ball and I got mad,” he huffs, taking his helmet and slamming it on the counter next to him. He massages the nape of his neck, sighing deeply to himself. 

“Now you know coach don’t like all that cussing on his field,” you sigh, “He knows you're good. That’s why he’s on your ass.” 

“Nah. He just annoying as fuck. Can’t expect me to do everything.”

He’s like a child, grumpy and pouty. His tall frame comes closer, wanting your attention in response to his rough day at practice. 

“How’s my baby?” he says in your ear, wrapping his large muscular arms around your waist and gently biting your shoulder. His broad frame shadows under his hoodie, tat against his face shining under the lights of your shared apartment, full lips moisturized—you’d never let him leave the house otherwise. 

You give him a soft laugh, rubbing your fingers over his durag as you say, “I’m fine. Had some time off studying, tryna’ beat this game. I meant what I said, Ony. He doesn’t just give you a hard time because he’s bored. You’re his star player, gotta make sure he ain’t treating you like everybody else.” 

“Don’t tell me you on yo’ nerdy stuff. C’mon. I’m sore,” he groans, his grip around your waist tightens and he pushes himself against you. 

“Oh, is it nerdy shit when you’ screaming on the game playing 2K with your friends? I was gonna offer a little massage. Now you’ve lost your entry to that,” you say, trying to push him off of you, reaching for the controller in between your lap. 

He doesn’t budge. He holds firmly onto you, pressing sloppy kisses against your neck to distract you. 

“Don’t be like that. I was kidding, you know I like that shit,” he huffs, his breath against your neck as he presses his lips on the sensitive part of your skin, “Forgot to tell you, I got an away game coming up in a few weeks. So I’ll be gone for like, a week.”

Your head comes down a bit to look directly at him, “What? You’re not coming with me to my parents? You know the holidays are coming up, Onyankopon. I told them you’d be there.” 

“You know imma’ just be sitting around hiding behind you,” he murmurs against your skin, his hot breath tickling you. 

It’s not that he’s shy— rather, he just doesn’t enjoy the unnecessary attention. 

“How ‘bout we do our own Christmas, before I go?” 

He’s nuzzling himself against your neck now, his hands roaming all along your body. You press his body away from yours, standing up as you become annoyed. 

You then say, “I wouldn’t be going up to my parents place if you didn’t agree to come with me in the first place,” going into the kitchen, searching through the freezer. 

He runs a hand over his face, seeing how instantly irritated you became. He knew having his support for the holidays meant a lot to you, and he might’ve waited on telling you about the going away game to lessen your disappointment. 

“Mama,” he calls, watching you from the sofa. 

You turn, raising an eyebrow as you say, “Oh, so now I’m Mama, you love hitting me with that shit when you know I’m mad.” 

“You know I don’t like going to those family functions, I swear that house always stinks cause yo’ auntie cooks that nasty ass fish. A week ain’t no big deal. Let’s just have our own thing here.” 

“So which one is it? You don’t wanna go or you got your football shit?” You narrow your eyes, pulling the ice pack from the freezer, arms crossed as you come back closer to him.

He knows better than to lie, especially to you. 

“They got some NFL scouts coming to this game,” he mutters, scratching his temple. I’m sorry. But I’m tryna’ go pro, you know that.”

“Mhm.” 

You hand him the ice pack, “Put it on your knee. I know it’s been sore lately.”

He raises an eyebrow, “You’ not mad?”

“Did I say I was mad? You’ want the ice pack or not?” 

He takes the ice pack, wincing once the coldness hits his knee. He knew you were gonna give him a scolding if he didn’t.

“You’ got a bad ass attitude right now.” 

“I wonder why, Onyankopon? If we had plans to go back to your parents house for the holidays and at the last minute I told you I have exams and that I just didn’t wanna go, you’d be irritated too.”  

“Damn, you gon’ be on my ass about this for the next three weeks?” 

He didn’t like it when you were like this, cause instead of being pissed you were more disappointed, which was somehow a lot worse to him.

“I’m gonna be gone for a week.” 

You scratch your nails in between the baby blue orchid claw-clip that holds your curls. You dismiss him, “You need to go shower.” 

“What, you ain’t tryna’ join me?” he murmurs, a smirk on his lips, “Quit being mad. I’m tryna love on you. Wanna put on The Isley Brothers and give you a rub down.” 

“You’re playing too much right now,” you deadpan, “Bye Onyankopon.” 

“What’ you mean bye?” he says, his smirk turning into a frown.

“I’m finna’ go finish studying,” you’re already walking back towards the bedroom, ending the conversation off as that. 

When you finally hear him smack his lips and make his way into the shower, you glance over your notes, deciding you weren’t gonna let him ruin your previous plans. You’re now back on the sofa, eyes set onto the screen, trying to defeat the computer generated opponent. 

You switch over to the sound of the bathroom opening, seeing him re-tying his durag back on, basketball shorts baggy and house shoes on his feet. His tattoos all along his face, neck, chest and arms always had your attention—but not as much attention as you usually gave him at this moment. You sprawled along the furniture, elbow deep into the couch's pillow as one leg laid straight out, while the other bent itself over the top of the couch. 

He doesn’t like how you’re paying no attention to him. As stupid as it sounds, he’s always got to have your eyes on him. They were pretty. 

“You’ still mad? You for real ain’t finna’ give me a massage?” 

“I’m good,” you swiftly respond, “Just playing my game. You can massage yourself.” 

“Why you’ gotta be like this?” 

He sits down next to you, his large frame takes up a lot of the space. The couch becomes smaller somehow. His eyes watch the game intently before he decides to get comfortable. Lying back down on the sofa, he lets his head rest in your lap. Even with you being irritated, you let him lay there. 

You continue going up level by level, your focus intently on the game. The little argument between you and Onyankopon irritated you to say the least, but you didn’t have the energy to completely push him away. It’s unfortunate he was persuasive. You notice out the corner of your eye that he lifts his head a little, the warmth between your legs along the back of his neck, and that’s when he sees that you’re wearing nothing under his jersey.  

He takes the time to admire you, legs lazily hung open, his eyes staring directly against your pussy, scenting of vanilla on your legs, freshly shaven. One of his large hands comes to rest on the back of your thick thigh, rubbing small circles with his thumb.

“What you’ got on?” he mutters.

“Had to wash clothes, didn’t have any underwear. That’s why I put on your jersey,” you tell him, eyes still not looking at his face, unable to see how his jaw clenched at the sight. 

He doesn’t say anything for a few seconds. In that moment his large hand rubs along the skin on your thigh, pushing the jersey up further.

“You look good as fuck in my shit,” He mumbles, a low rasp in his tone.

“Thank you,” you say in a softer tone, mainly because you’re distracted, buttons pressing harder against the controller. 

He can tell how focused you are—how your face scrunched up, the way your fingers move, even the way your thighs fall open on his head.

That’s when you feel him lean down, giving a gentle peck to your inner thigh. The feeling makes you tense a bit, but you still keep your eyes against the screen, huffing out a breath as your character is close to dying. This level was difficult. 

He’s giving small, light kisses along the sensitive flesh of your inner thigh, taking small intervals to glance up to you as you keep your eyes against the screen. His hand moves higher up on your leg, slowly pushing the jersey up even more.

Your eyes go to him for a millisecond, seeing as his head is down, lips attached to your thighs, sucking ever so gently on your skin. You can almost feel a pressure building in your stomach, the slow ache of his movements almost purposeful, teasing you in a way. You press your glasses up against your face, huffing out a breath as you mutter, “Stupid ass level,” trying to come up with a reason as to why you sound so breathless. 

He grins as he’s laying there, hearing your breathing getting heavier. It’s obvious how hard you’re trying to focus on the game, but he’s working you up.

“You’ trying so hard, Mama,” He murmurs against your hot skin, his kisses trailing to the spot he knows is extra sensitive.

You shift your body, clearing your throat as you say, “Gotta restart,” adjusting your legs a bit, opening them up just a little more than before. 

He can tell how you’re slowly giving in, how you’re shifting your body around, legs opening just enough for him to move closer. He lets his free hand come to caress your stomach, rubbing against the skin under the fabric of the jersey. His lips are so close to you, his breath is hot against your skin. 

“Restart then,” He mutters, tongue now coming to flick out from his lips, gliding across your skin, hiding beneath the pillows of his lips as they begin sucking a dark red mark against you.

You narrow your eyes lightly as you restart the level you play, but your body is distracted by Onyankopon’s lips along it. You drag your teeth along your lip a bit, pressing your fingers harder into the controller, feeling his lips coming up higher. 

You could feel the arousal you had flooding in between the lips of your pussy, protecting your clit as it now begins to pool farther down, dampening the couch. His large fingers wrap along the outside of your thighs, using his thumbs to pull the skin on the inside apart, showing the dark pink of your pussy, squelching at his presence. Your body tenses even more as you feel his thumb meet with your clit, rubbing so softly against it, dropping his mouth down to press another kiss to your skin. The leg hiked up against the top of the sofa trembles a bit. 

“You’ winning?” You hear him murmur against your skin. 

You take a deep inhale, squeezing your fingers against the hooks of your controller as you softly reply, “No.”

He circles your clit with maddeningly light touches, barely grazing the swollen nub. At the same time, he’s still pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses, occasionally grazing his teeth. 

"You’ getting distracted. Wet ass pussy," Onyankopon murmurs appreciatively, feeling the slick evidence of your arousal coating his finger.

Your chest heaves a bit at his tone, but you don’t let up. You keep your eyes on the screen, but you seem to be losing. In both games. 

He spreads you even wider as he leans in closer, hot breath fanning over your slick folds. He pulls his thumb back as he replaces it with his mouth, giving you an innocent kiss against your clit. His beard captures your arousal, your fingers shuddering as you hear him groan, “Ooh, fuck, Mama. You’ wet for real.”

Without warning, he seals his lips around your clit and sucks, tongue flicking rapidly over the sensitive bud. He releases it with a lewd pop before trailing open-mouthed kisses along your slit, lapping up your dripping arousal. Your eyebrows deepen into a frown, lips trembling as you give one more press to your controller, before you take your hand and reach it to the back of his head, getting a clutch against the knot of his durag. Your eyes roll to the back of your head, clasping your mouth shut as you whimper for him.

He delves his tongue deeper between your opened folds, dragging it up and down, lapping up to create more secretion. His hands grip your thick thighs, spreading you obscenely wide as he eats you out like a starving man.

"Mmmm, this a nigga favorite fuckin’ meal," he rumbles, voice muffled by your flesh. He alternates between slurping you up and flicking rapidly, determined to make you fall apart. One hand slides up to grope your ass roughly, kneading the plush flesh.

“O—Ony…” you gasp, voice small and high pitched, fingers squeezing harder against his head, dropping the controller out of your other hand, the object hitting the ground with a thud. The music of the battle within the game becomes something you hear, but not as loud as his mouth gulping you down, heavy tongue sopping against your pussy, drenching his beard so much that he could drown in you.

“Pretty ass voice,” he encourages huskily, the vibrations from his words sending shockwaves through your core. He dips two thick fingers knuckle-deep into your weeping cunt, pumping them slowly as he continues his relentless assault on your clit with his tongue. The wet sounds of him feasting on your pussy fill the room, mixing obscenely with the forgotten video game noises.

His free hand roams your curves possessively, groping and squeezing every inch of exposed skin he can reach—your ass, your thighs, the underside of your breasts. You’re lost in a haze of pleasure.

You were always so sensitive to his touch, the pleasure that you received from him kept you so kidnapped that it was hard to be mad at him. You grind your clit along his mouth that waits to catch it, voice ineffective of composure as you struggle, “Gonna cum soon, Ony…” 

“Yeah?” He grunts, head knocking up and down, your eyes only able to watch as his lower face disappears in between your legs, glistening a coat against his beard, “Where you wanna cum?” 

“On your dick, baby…” you whine softly, rotating your hips gently to match his moments, “Please…”

"You wanna cum on your dick, Mama?” He coos against you, the sound reverberating through your core, you’re whimpering with an urgent nod, “Mhm,” before he can even finish his sentence. 

He pulls himself back, already tugging his tip from beneath his basketball shorts, taking off the material as your eyes follow the curve, the vein in his dick, heavy against the stretch of his large palm. Tattoos spread against his pelvic, scriptures and inspirational quotes that didn’t belong in his blasphemous moment.

"Turn around, put that ass in the air for me.“

Your legs feel a bit numb, bringing yourself up as you know exactly how he wants you. Raising your left leg along the arm of the couch, you lean your breast over the top as your face hides beneath your arm, right knee digging into the seat of it. He places his fingers along the side of your neck, other hand digging into your thigh thrown over the furniture. He doesn’t have to tell you to look at him—you always give him your eyes, feline as they blank beneath his control. Your body trembles as he slams his palm against your ass, “Arch more,” your body following suit, deepening the valley your silhouette creates. 

He grips your hip with bruising force, using the leverage to grind the swollen head of his dick teasingly along your soaked slit. Up and down, he rubs himself through your slick folds, coating his length in your essence. Your hips tense as you feel the weight of his tip stretching open your pussy, sinking in that it makes your abdomen cramp, aching in a pleasure that has your entire body tighten. Your eyes are beginning to roll back, digging your nails into the sofa as you keep your eyes on his, he looks mad at you, slamming his palm against your ass again as he grunts, “Keep that fuckin’ arch.” 

Your chest is filled with oxygen, holding your breath to cure the slight discomfort you feel, but it’s also an agonizing pleasure, feeling so full from him. He’s slowly dragging himself halfway out, rolling his hips back in and going even deeper, your mouth dropping open as your eyes flutter shut, turning your head back towards him as you whimper, “Fuck, baby. You’re deep…” 

Silence goes in between the both of you, savoring the rush of pleasure that clutches the air as he drags his first couple of thrusts, so slow it felt like time wasn’t even passing. The sedated actions almost feel better than if he sped up, his eyes locking down as he sees you painting his tip, creaming on him. 

“I’m in your shit, huh?” he talks to you, it’s almost tortuous as he hilts himself fully inside, his heavy balls slapping against your throbbing clit. Your walls clench around him like a vice, your head tilting back as you completely tense. You whimper, “Ungh,” attempting to push him back to relieve the stimulation, jumping as he gives you a bruising spank, deep voice aggressive as he says, “Uh-uh, don’t do that. You know I don’t do that running shit.” 

His fingers dig into the flesh of your hips as he starts up at a carnal pace. The wet squelch of your pussy being split open echoes obscenely in the room, mixing with your deep whines, nodding your head, gently dropping your hips against his abdomen to meet his strokes.

“Keep riding that dick, goood fuckin’ girl,” each thrust is punishing and deep, stirring up your insides. The wet slap of skin on skin echoes obscenely as he rails into you, chasing your pleasure to insanity.

You always try to keep up, but you never could. All your organs feel tossed around by him, so blinded in your erotic state, your mouth opens as you give long moans, deeply gasping each time you need to catch your breath. He brings you to a point of saying things you’d never thought would leave your lips, mouth parted as you groan, “Yes, yes, baby. Agh, fuck, Ony. Deeper.”

"You want this dick deeper?" He growls, accentuating his question with a thrust that has your eyes rolling back farther. His grip on your hips tightens, surely leaving finger-shaped bruises on your toffee skin as he sets a merciless pace.

He’s back at palming his hand brutally against your ass, rushing it up to come around the front of your mouth, resting his fingers there as he grunts, "Take this fucking dick then," yanking your head back.

The new angle allows him to go even deeper, his hips slapping against your clit, “Finna’ tear this fuckin’ pussy open.” 

His filthy words mix with the lewd sounds of your bodies coming together, filling the room, it has you groaning through his fingers. 

“Love you so much,  baby—“ this was a regular routine, the affection you give him as he’s hitting that spot that only he could find, whines plummeting from your mouth, eyes to the back of your head as you reach back and grab onto his wrist that holds your hip, moaning louder each time he rolls his hips back to meet the weight of your ass matching his rhythm.

“What happened to you being mad?” He questions, going slow as he tugs you back into his dick, the echo of your skin bouncing off each other like a drug induced round of applause. 

You shake your head, “Not mad at you, Onyyy,  love you so much….”

He chuckles darkly, low and rumbling in his chest as he leans over you, pressing his muscular torso against your back. His hot breath fans across the shell of your ear as he murmurs, "I know you do, Mama. I love you too.” 

One large hand slides up from your hip, reaching around to splay across your stomach as the other now tangles in your hair, tugging your head back. He rolls his hips in a slow, deep grind, stirring you up from the inside, your mouth releasing broken shouts, your face hot, pleasured tears wanting to stroke along your face. 

"Fuckin’ love you, princess. Pussy was made for me,” He gives another sharp thrust, grinding against your cervix. "You’ getting tight as fuck—You’ cumming, Mama?”

“I’m….” You gasp, defeated in your inability to speak, taking your hand and reaching back to hold his face closer to yours, hips trembling as you dangerously moan in a cracked tone “I’m cumming, baby. I’m cumming. I’m—agh,  c—cumming…”

His chuckle is dark with lust as you flutter and clench around him erratically. He grips you harder, using the leverage to pound into you relentlessly, chasing his own release.

"Good job, baby. Biggg fuckin’ girl. Cum on this dick. Fuckin' soak it," he growls, his voice strained with pleasure. One hand moves from your hip to your clit, rubbing tight circles around the sensitive nub as he continues his brutal pace.

Your whole body tenses and shakes as your orgasm crashes over you, a loud cry tearing from your throat. Your pussy spasms almost violently around his thick shaft, gushing against him so much it pushes him out of you, trying to milk the sensation for all it’s worth. 

“I’m finna’ bust, baby,” he warns, groaning in your ear, “Come eat this dick up.”

Your body feels numb as you turn yourself towards him, immediately wrapping your lips along his tip, enveloping the taste of your own arousal within the walls of your mouth, sucking him in to reach the heavens of your throat. He clasps your hair within his palm, bobbing yourself back and forth as you reach down, rubbing your clit as you still feel your orgasm rushing through your body. You moan around him, giving him those cat eyes, fluttering your dark extensions as you swirl your tongue against his tip, begging for a reaction.

He throws his head back with a deep, guttural moan as your warm mouth engulfs him. His grip on your hair tightens, guiding your movements as he starts to thrust shallowly into your throat.

“Shit—just like that. Eating that dick up good as fuckk," he pants, his abs flexing with each snap of his hips. The sight of you—eyes fluttering, cheeks hollowed, one hand buried between your thighs—it’s almost too much.

He pulls your mouth off him, a string of saliva connecting your lips to his glistening tip. With another smack to your ass, he flips you onto your back, settling between your spread legs. 

"I wanna see your face when I nut in this pretty ass pussy." 

He lines himself up and sinks back in with one smooth thrust, bottoming out instantly, clutching your throat, holding you down as your back arches up, clawing into his back at the visceral sensitivity.

He sets a hard, fast pace, the wet sounds of your joining filling the room. His intense gaze locks with yours, pupils blown wide with lust as he takes in every expression that crosses your face.

"That's it, baby. Gonna fill this pussy up real good," he grunts as you whimper with his talking, “Ba-by,” angling his hips to hit that special spot inside you. One hand slides under your thigh, pushing your leg up and back to change the angle, allowing him to go even deeper.

He leans down, capturing your lips in a searing kiss as he continues to pound into you. His tongue dominates your mouth, swallowing your moans and cries of pleasure. Breaking the kiss, he buries his face in your neck, biting and sucking dark marks into your skin as he chases his release.

"Fuckk, finna’ cum soon. You want it in you, baby?”

“On my face baby, you say it’s pretty there,” you whimper, deepening your nails in his back, “Mmmph, c’mon, Ony. Please…” 

A grin spreads across his face at your pleas. Grabbing his throbbing tip, he positions himself at your face, smearing the leaking pre-cum across your cheek. He’s moaning, stroking himself rapidly, aiming his tip at your parted lips. His free hand grips your chin firmly, keeping you in place as his strokes become erratic. He then cums, painting your face—across your cheeks, over your lips, some even landing in your waiting mouth.

You stick your tongue out, running your tongue over your lips that darken in color, bruised as you dig your teeth into them with a sultry giggle. Heavy breathing fills the room as you keep your eyes up at him. 

He steps back as he says, “Hollon, baby,” going into the bathroom as he finds a towel, rubbing it along your face to clean you up. He then leans down, pulling you into a kiss as he grunts, “Gimme’ your mouth. I love you, Mama. I’m sorry.” 

You give him a kiss, holding his face in your hands, running your tongues together sloppily, passion filling your entire body from the previous actions. 

You say, “It’s okay. You’ want your massage now?”

He pulls his mouth back a bit, eyeing you before he chuckles. It makes you pout, “What’s funny?”

He laughs, shaking his head as he helps you stand, “Nothin’ Mama. Just thinkin' 'bout how quick you forgave me after I tore your ass up."

You roll your eyes, “I can always change my mind.” 

He runs a hand down your side, squeezing your hip possessively. "Chill out. I want that massage. You know I'm always ready for your magical hands."

He stretches languidly, his muscles rippling beneath his tattoos as he leads you towards the bedroom, “ And don’t be all stingy with the lotion. Do that lil’ thing I like if you feeling extra generous.” 

“You’ getting beside yourself. Do you need that?”

He turns, “Do you?”

You scrunch up your nose, “No. I want a massage next!”

“Exactly. C’mon, get that ass on the bed.”