#this is really stupid but god it made me laugh when drawing it

[synth-ab]

Read "The Well" by Jake Wyatt and Choo. It's amazing

[himbosandhardwear]

Eddie scans the room, looking for who or what he's not sure, just keeping his eyes peeled for something interesting. It's Saturday night, a packed house, some of the usual suspects but some new faces too.

One in particular stands out, especially considering his Sears Catalog attire and artfully tousled hair.

There's something about his loose body language that draws Eddie's eye. He's out of place but he doesn't act out of place. Eddie can respect it.

Unfortunately, when their eyes meet, he gets a kicked gut reaction that makes it clear this guy is off limits. The guy looks away immediately, probably thinks Eddie is more likely to pickpocket him than buy him a drink. Oh well. No great loss, he didn't come to get laid anyway.

He makes his way to the bar, gets a shot of Jack and a Miller Lite and waits. Teddy will probably show up before too long, maybe they can bar hop. He sips his beer and looks around some more, noting the older Mexican lady who runs the flower stand on the corner. You wouldn't guess it just by looking at her but she can drink anyone in the place under the table. He should really get her name.

Sears Catalog has moved to a table on the right side of the room, standing with a presumed girlfriend. Their heads are bent close together. He looks up and catches Eddie staring. They both look away again. He's really gotta stop doing that before he gets hate-crimed. It's a known problem, his type being untouchable preppy boys. He's sure if a shrink studied him, they would say it was because he didn't think he was worthy of love, or some shit, but he can't help it. The straighter, the meaner, the cleaner cut, the more Eddie falls all over himself. It’s a miracle he ever gets laid. Thankfully there’s always closet cases. He swore to himself he wasn't going to do that anymore though, he needs to have some self-respect, not let asshole jocks use him and drop him the second an emotion is displayed.

“That outfit is hideous.”

Eddie jolts in his seat. He finds Sears Catalog smirking at him like what he's said is the height of wit.

Eddie wastes no time pouring the rest of his beer over the guy's head.

He stares back at Eddie in shock, almost hurt. Fuck him. He doesn't care, he's not letting some dumbass gymrat hone his bullying skills on him. Not today.

The guy's girlfriend jogs over with a handful of napkins, which is when Eddie splits.

“I told you not to use that line!” He hears her exclaim. Eddie stops in his tracks.

“But…but...he didn't even let me get to the good part,” Sears laments. Eddie can't turn back around, he's frozen in place.

“Yeah, dingus, because it's a stupid fucking line. I'm sorry you had to find out like this but not every guy who makes eye contact with you wants to fuck you.”

“I know that! I just thought… I don't know. Let's just get out of here.”

He sounds so defeated. Eddie did that. He assumed the worst and reacted accordingly. Like an asshole. Like a bully.

They're halfway to the door when Eddie's feet unstick themselves from the floor. He rushes to intercept.

“What was the rest of the line?” He shouts.

Sears turns, eyes wide, unsure.

His…friend? Looks Eddie over, unimpressed. “What's it to you?”

He winces. “Just…uh…I guess I thought you should know, some of the guys who make eye contact do want to fuck you, they're just too stupid to realize they're being hit on.”

Sears and Mean Friend make their own eye contact. Mostly ‘Beat it' and ‘Are you serious?’ and ‘Yes, oh my god, please go.’

Eddie respects their bond.

Once Mean Friend has sufficiently rolled her eyes and threatened Eddie with bodily harm should anything worse than beer befall her friend, she stalks off into the night.

“You should take it off.”

“Huh?” Eddie responds, stupidly.

Sears smiles. “That's the rest of the line. ‘Your outfit is hideous. You should take it off.’”

Fuck, it really is a terrible line. Something a middle aged creep would use. If he'd waited long enough to hear it the first time it would've made him laugh though, which would have broken the ice.

“Awful. Zero out of ten,” he says while grinning. “Looks like you already offended one guy.” He looks at Sears’ wet shirt, appreciating his own handiwork.

“I'll keep workshopping.” His hand comes up slowly, like Eddie might react badly again. “Steve.”

It's his honor and privilege to clasp Steve's hand in his own.

“Eddie. And can I say, your outfit looks great. It would look better on my floor.”

Steve practically twinkles at him. “Stop, I'm already a sure thing.”

He uses the hand still in his grasp to pull Eddie forward and smash their lips together.

When their grandkids ask how they got together, Eddie is going to have to lie.

[avocado-writing]

The idea of Wade as a used car salesman found a love of his life during his midlife crisis before he met Logan. They don’t have a clue that he’s Deadpool. They just fall in love with Wade the used car salesman Wade Wilson, even see him as a funny, harmless person till one day his partner showing a picture of Deadpool and goes “He looks hot, could we find some costume to wear next time we fuck, dear?”

Wade totally forgot that he’s retired from Deadpool cause he’s in his suit, ready to fuck the love of his life for eternity. 👀

Wade Wilson knew he was in love the first time you cried laughing over one of his stupid jokes.

You’re probably too good for him with your easy smile and kind heart, and he knows he’s punching above his weight when he asks you out - but somehow you end up saying yes. 

At the bar that night he keeps you laughing until there are tears in your eyes and then continues the show in bed. It’s so lovely to have you all giggly under him, pressed into the mattress as he makes you cum so hard all you can do is moan. 

You lie there, walking your fingers up and down his chest, molasses-slow as the streetlights outside your apartment silhouette you both in fluorescence. 

“I like you, Wade. You’re nice,” you sigh, in a way which suggests you don’t often meet nice people. Ah man, he fucking melts. He’s never letting you go. 

Your relationship is pretty easy. He never feels like he has to work to impress you or keep you onside, you like him for him. It’s a… refreshing feeling, from a world where Wade Wilson constantly feels like he’s too much. 

He catches the Deadpool keyring on your house keys one night after the two of you have grabbed pizza on the way home; spotting the telltale red and black while trying to keep a pile of boxes in place between his hands and his chin. 

“Oh, Deadpool fan?” he asks, trying to affect nonchalance. He sees you get a little flustered. 

“I mean… yeah? Back in his heyday I thought he was cute, kind’ve a shame he disappeared. Merc with a mouth, what’s not to love?” you pause for a second. “He reminds me of you actually.”

Wade laughs at that way too loud and way too hard.

“What? No. That’s crazy!”

You throw him a side-eye but don’t comment further. 

He lets it rest for a couple of days so as not to draw suspicion, but when you make yourself a cup of coffee and his own mask is staring back at him from the ceramic, he can’t hide his wandering eyes. 

“What’s up?” you ask. 

“Nothing. Just didn’t realise they made those.” He didn’t get a cut. Should he have gotten a cut? Would have been nice if whoever had merchandised his face had asked him if he was cool with it.  

“Oh, look, everyone has a crush on at least one superhero, okay? It’s impossible not to. They’re everywhere and they’re hot!”

He lets himself digest this. You think Deadpool is a superhero? He didn’t get that much. Mostly he was referred to as “god’s curse to crimefighting”. But also you have a crush on him? Both of these facts are… interesting. 

“I… think Deadpool is hot, too,” Wade blurts out when he realises he’s been silent for ten uninterrupted seconds. 

“Oh,” you reply, settling down a little when it turns out he’s in agreement with you. “Well, cool! Glad we can agree.”

Phew. Got outta that one, then. 

He really doesn’t think any more of it, or tries not to, until a couple of weeks later when you bring it up in bed. 

“Wade, can I ask something kinda kinky?”

Cuddled in post-coital bliss, his fingers tracing lazy patterns on your skin, he pauses. 

“Abso-fuckin’-lutely, sweet cheeks. I’d be offended if you didn’t.”

“How do you feel about roleplay?”

He turns to you with a grin which threatens to split his face in half.

“Oh, you’ve been keeping that under your hat!” he laughs, “But, in answer to the question, very positive. What were you thinking? Cop and criminal? Nurse and patient? I’m down to play any of those roles by the way, I believe in equal gender opportunities in the bedroom.”

You chuckle, but when you tuck a piece of hair behind your ear and try to work out how to phrase the next part of the question, he cottons on. 

“Oh my god. You want me to roleplay Deadpool, don’t you?”

“It’s okay if you don’t want to! It’s just, you said you thought he was sexy… so I wondered…”

He puts a finger on your lips, stoppering the spill of panic from your lips. 

“Baby, I am so down to clown that you might as well call me Pennywise. Let me sort the details and I’ll give you the best night of in-character boning that’s ever been known to man.”

You look giddy at that promise. Truth be told, he’s kinda excited himself. 

Wade retrieves the suit the next day and feels a little weird putting it back on, covering his body again with red and black. When he’s done this in the past it’s in order to go and kill like, a lot of people, not to fulfil a fantasy. But hey - there’s a first time for everything. And it’ll make you so happy, too.

You scream when he taps on your window from his perch on your fire escape. Admittedly he should have told you he was coming, but he thought it could be a fun and sexy surprise. He was wrong. 

“WHAT THE FUCK—!”

Wade whips off the mask as you lunge for your kitchen knife set, hands up in a gesture of peace. 

“Baby! Babe, it’s just me!”

You go limp with relief, leaning against the counter to support yourself. 

“Holy shit! Wade, what the fuck do you think you’re…”

You trail off as you take in the picture of your boyfriend crawling in through the tiny window decked out in his suit. An eyebrow raises. 

“Oh.”

“Yeah! See, I told you I’d sort it.”

Anger and fear now completely ablated, you walk a slow circle around where he stands in your kitchen, appraising his look. 

“This is a high quality suit. Where did you get it?”

“Peter,” he says quickly. This isn’t a lie. He did get it from Peter… Peter’s locker anyway. You look confused. 

“Our coworker Peter?” When Wade nods you furrow your brow. “He… he hasn’t fucked in this suit, has he?”

“No!” says Wade with far too much force. Actually he can’t prove that. Now it’s an image he can’t shake from his mind. Not super conducive to the mood. 

He takes a knife from his belt, and your eyes go wide in a mixture of panic and arousal. 

“Oh my god…”

“It’s blunt! Well. It’s sharp enough for me to cut your underwear off, which I’ve been rocking a semi all day from imagining…”

From the smile which takes up your face, he knows he’s done right. 

Any way you ask him to fuck you, he does. Over your dresser. Against your wall. While running the dulled point of baby knife over the curve of your ass as he pistons his hips inside you, getting the mess of your cum all over the front of his suit. It’s filthy. It’s fantastic. 

But when you lay there cuddled up to his chest that night, Wade feels… conflicted. It isn’t that he’s lying to you, exactly, but it feels like he’s keeping a pretty fucking big secret. 

If you knew, would you still like him? Still want to be with him? Having a crush on a superhero is one thing, but being with one is entirely different. Ask any of the assorted Spider-Man and their various fucked up partners. It isn’t always pretty.

As if determined to take his mind away from this thought you nuzzle into his side, blissfully fucked out. He buries his lips into your hair. 

It never needs to be an issue. Deadpool is retired. He’s never gonna be used for non-kinky reasons again. 

…right?

taglist: @falsewordz @malfoys-demigod @belilwen @mildly-salted @tvwebs @childeslegstrap @getmeoutofhell @s1eep-o @just-a-beatlemaniac69 @yrthr @momopad @sugarplumz100 @captainjinkx @madspads @acrosstheunivcrse @yeethaw13 @na-is-salty @florduarte @hunterispunk @starfleetteddybear

[kimsunos]

IM SO HAPPY UR INTO HYBRIDS OMFGGWHSI

gawd ok it's cliche but idc, bunny!reader and fox!sunoo, horny x horny lmao

going at it for hours on the regular all while being loud asf and not giving a shit abt anything, sooo many quickies and heats go even crazier dare i say it'd make satan blush, a match made in hell for others lmao.

hii baby! dont even know if youre into it still because i made you wait too much for it and for that i apologize 😢 but nonetheless i LOVE rambling about hybrids so here goes nothing.. Also this is very long for no reason

cw: female reader, fox!sunoo, bunny!reader, dom!sunoo, sub!reader, primal play, kinda perv!sunoo (gasp), biting kink, degradation, dacryphillia, dumbification, breeding kink, name calling (bunny, bitch, etc), spit play? (sunoo licks her lmao), sunoo is a sly fox 🧐 also he says "bunny" a lot.

your parents, since you were little, warned about the precautions needed to take as a prey. and as a family of rabbit hybrids, you were, of course, a bunny with big, fuzzy ears on top of your head and a toothy, cute, happy smile.

you always thought this judgement your parents and all the older rabbits had towards predators was stupid. "don't go near wolves", "don't talk to lions", "bears can smell you from miles away", "never trust foxes". this is modern times, we are not savages anymore! oh, if you had just listened to their advice.

"you can't imagine how long i've been dreaming about this." said sunoo, the gentle fox hybrid that every day ordered a drink at the coffee shop you worked, now, not as gentle, as he pushes your head on the mattress and thrusts mercilessly into your pussy from behind. you'd never have imagined that the date and the shy kiss you shared at the end of your work hours would end this way.

"bunny... my bunny," he said, voice intoxicated with desire, and slowed down his movements, lowered himself to rest his bare chest against your back and slowly dragged his nose from your cheek to your neck, sniffing in your scent gland, absorbing it like a hungry man. "oh, god, your scent..." another big sniff, "always drove me crazy, bunny. did you know that?"

with your face on the mattress, you could only whine and wiggle your fluffy tail, voice muffled by the pillow, falling into the pleasure of his cock making you feel so full. sunoo laughed, his movements now at a quicker pace.

"you're so fucking innocent, baby," another laugh, his breath unsteady, going deep at you, hips doing wonders to reach your most sensitive spots. "you really thought i was just a nice guy, huh? coming everyday at your job, sitting at that table in the back... such a nice costumer, big tips too." you could hear the smirk in his voice, condescending tone, his sharp nails drawing circles on your back, gracious movements contrasting with the mess he's making of you. "the truth is, i could barely contain myself in that small cafe, bunny." his scratches would for sure be visible the next day. "so ready to please and so naive. bet you didn't even notice the way my hands would always find yours, the way i watched your movements... or did you?" you whined as he talked. "remember when i offered a bite of that brownie to you? and you sucked on the plastic spoon like a bitch in heat, hungry eyes on mine and shit?"

no verbal response from you but a clench, embarrassed to be caught red-handed. such unwise actions, bunny. a rabbit flirting with a fox? really? and you still had the audacity to think you were in control.

"fucking answer me, bitch." sunoo yanked you by your furry ears, hard enough to lift your body off the mattress, placing your back against his chest again, making you moan loudly. his movements getting faster, skin on skin noises mixing with the red-haired boy's animalistic grunts and your cries.

"s-sun, slow d-down, ple-"

"oh, bunny," he laughs. "you want me to slow down? hm?~" hand still with a firm grip on your ears, causing you to bend your neck in an almost uncomfortable position, if it wasn't for the pleasure washing over all your other emotions. "p-poor bunny, can't handle big dick? this is what you're made for, can't you even do that?" and there you were, crying, overwhelmed by the degradation and how it made your insides even more wet.

"oh, god," his hips hitting even faster now, you could feel him losing all his control. "god, f-fuck- bunny, don't do this to me~" he said, releasing your ears to grip your hips, you could only cry. turning your head sideways, you meet his foxy eyes and vertical pupils now blown out in complete insanity, seeing you cry, your most prey-like state, ears down in submission and everything, it made the predator in him fucking crazy. "bunny- b-bunny, my bunny-" he started licking your tears away, chanting your name like in a trance. "b-bunny, i'll make you m-mine, 'mmkay? will y-you let me?" he kissed your neck, stopping to paint your skin with hickeys then and there. "s-stuff you full of me, baby, knock you up real good, hm?~" his voice was whiny and loud as he bit you, sharp fangs poking at your neck, and another bite, and another, almost like trying to literally eat you alive.

"nnngh- oh, s-sunoo, s'deep, f-full." you mutter, no thoughts behind your eyes.

"shhh, baby- i know, r-right?~ don't worry, turn off your brain, l-let me do the thinking for you."

[milfloveer]

Hello! Good morning, good afternoon, or good evening! I’d like to know if you accept fanfic suggestions. If so, I’d love to request a fanfic of Lilia Calderu x Female Reader, where the reader is drawing, and Lilia approaches to take a look and asks if she can see the drawing. However, while flipping through some pages, Lilia ends up finding several drawings of herself. It would be similar to that scene from Spider-Man: Across the Spider-Verse, when Gwen picks up Miles’ sketchbook and sees several drawings of her. (I imagine Lilia’s reaction would be the cutest ever (˶˃ ᵕ ˂˶)).

Drawings of you

Pairing: Lilia Calderu x fem!reader

Prompt: (request)

Warnings: scars and history about them (reader has whip scars)

A/n: Hiiii!!! Thank you so much for the request!! Hope this is what you've asked for, please tell me what y'all think cause I think I've wandered a little 👉🏻👈🏻 Also I added some more plot hope it didn't ruin it tho.

As we finished the second trial, Alice's trial, and made sure Teen was alright we settled down and made a fire so we could rest for the night.

We sat by the fire and were currently sharing our battle scars, Lilia pointed out to her neck pulling her shirt aside making me shift on my seat "Check this out." we all reached a little closer to see better, my cheeks painted with a soft pink and then Jen asked what we were all thinking "What is that?" and Lilia, still showing it says "Vampire bite. Right before I knock out his other tooth." she says making all of us laugh.

Alice then turns to me "What about you, y/n? Do you have any battle scars?" she asks innocently, I couldn't hide my sudden face drop as my body tenses, my eyes fall to Rio cause she knows what my scars are about, her expression unreadable and then my eyes fall to Lilia's, her eyes curious about what I have to show and so I sigh "I do have them, yes. But they're really ugly and how I got them... Well, let's say it's not as funny as Lilia's." I say softly, preparing them to see my scars. I turn around, my back now facing them, and I lift my shirt, they gasp and an 'Oh gods' left Lilia's mouth.

When I turn around they all have a shocking and scared face, I look down at my intertwined hands as I could not bear their gazes directed at me "It all happened when I was in Salem, I was held captive by a powerful man... Not by power tho, but by money and other things, he was well known and respected by the people. So one day he found out I was a witch and how powerful I was, all because of a stupid mistake I've made." I said sighing in frustration memories of that haunting me "All those years he held me captive he made me do things for him, like cure people, read their fortune and if needed I would do some potions and cast some spells.... Curses even. If not or if I did it wrong he would whipp me over and over again until I had no skin left. It was that or burning in a stake." I tell as they all share a look "Dead almost caught me that time." I scoff taking a glance at Rio. Lilia shifts in her seat, her mouth opens to say something, but Agatha arrives and sits down next to Rio, so Lilia stays silent, but her eyes remain in my figure like she's trying to read me just like a book.

To take the tension out and to divert the attention from me I turn to Agatha "Agatha, do you have any battle scars?" I ask and she smirks pulling her sleeve up, Rio makes a snort knowing full well what she was going to show. Her scar is in the elbow "Knitting needle to the elbow." she says while showing it around as we all made a disgusted face "Ever heard of the daughters of liberty?" she asked and we all answered with 'no' while shaking our heads "Exactly." she says making all of us laugh.

And then, out of the blue, Rio says "I've got a scar." as Agatha quickly replies "No you don't." that makes me raise an eyebrow "Yes, I do." Rio reinforces taking a look at Agatha as she keeps explaining "A long time ago I loved someone. And I had to do something I did not wanna do... Even though it was my job. And it hurt them... She is my scar." she finishes and looks directly at Agatha, not even trying to hide who it was. Agatha then gets up saying she needs to stretch her legs and Rio follows her, leaving us four at the fire.

We all look at each other and shrug, I mean we all knew they had an history, it was clear as water, so we didn't bother. It's not like they're gonna tell us anyway.

I take a glance at the three witches "Y'all get some rest, I'll take the first watch." I tell them and they all nod, Jen and Alice got comfortable against the rock they were, Lilia did the same.

To pass time I conjured my sketchbook and pencil so I could draw something and by something I mean the elder wise witch sleeping a couple of feet in front of me. I couldn't take her out of my mind since the first day I saw her at Agatha's house, her curly hair, her curved nose, her soft looking lips, oh how I would love to kiss them, those dark irises I could drown in a matter of seconds, her angelic voice, the whole of her, I could not stop thinking about her and only her. And I couldn't stop drawing her since, my sketchbook was full of her images, profile, full body, different expressions, her hands, her necklace, I couldn't stop, I won't stop.

I now started to draw her sleeping figure, how her body was curled in as she lays on her side facing me, her hands next to her chest in a protective way. She was in a deep sleep as her now relaxed body only moved with her soft breathing. I lost myself in the lines drawing efficiently every detail of her, capturing her essence as she sleeps... But the pencil started to weigh too much and so did my eyelids, I didn't even realise when I fell asleep, sliding into a deep slumber myself.

The shaking of my body and a soft voice is what makes me aware of my sleeping state and so I jump awake "Whoa, calm down, darling, it's just me." Lilia whispers as the rest of the coven is still sleeping, I frown "What's wrong?" I ask confused, she smiles softly "Nothing, dear, I only wanted to put you in a more comfortable position as you were not looking rather comfortable in that one." she says chuckling lightly, she then looks next to me where my sketchbook fell and she reaches for it "Oh, No-" I say trying to stop her but she's quicker than me "I always wondered what you spend so much time drawing about." she says teasingly and opens the book "Oh-" she says as she flips through the pages.

My face turns red, red as a tomato, as a strawberry, as her lipstick "Lilia-" I breathe out, but she looks at me tenderly "These are amazing, darling. But why me?" she asks innocently and I am left with no words, mouth agape as staring embarrassed at her "Have you seen yourself?" I ask, my voice lower than a whisper. She chuckles and shakes her head "No need to be shy now, dear." and my only reaction is to hide my face behind my hands with embarrassment.

Lilia's soft hands grab mine and put them down, her face really close to mine "I really appreciate it." she says and I almost choke with the air on my throat as she leans in and gives me a tender kiss on my cheek. Well if I wasn't red before, now certainly I was, my heart was ready to jump out of my chest as my head was ready to explode "Now, try to rest, dear, I'll take the next watch." she says laughing softly as she backs up to her previous spot.

How am I gonna sleep after this?!

[nothomegal]

ITS CHRISTMAS EVE (or at least where I live bc timezones) and I would like to gove Pyramid Head smoochies under mistletoe pls 😌

Aww I was having this idea too! And since it's Christmas allow me to bless you with a drawing!...

...And a lilttle one-shot!

"Mistletoe"

(Pyramid Head x GN Reader)

Warning: suggestive implications by the end, but mostly fluff!

Word Count: 1k

Christmas was always a funny holiday for (Y/N). Either because they never truly felt connected to it or because they haven't felt the 'magic of Christmas' since childhood. Don't get me wrong, they would still put some decorations when they could, but ever since they came to Silent Hill such tradition was lost.

Not like they mind it too much though, they already have the absolute best gift and company they could ever ask for! Just tell me, who in their right mind would be upset about having a nearly 8ft tall demi-god creature as your forever partner? You have to be chronically insane to turn down such blessing!

And speaking of the creature, (Y/N)'s daydream was interrupted when a large hand curled around their arm and stopped them. They shoot a curious glance to their lover, who was already looking at whatever got his attention.

Right above them, placed on the old metallic door frame with, what they suppose is duct tape, were hangign a bunch of oddly shaped pieces of paper. Some pieces where green, others painted green, and all of them where kept together with a piece of damaged red cloth that was tied as a bow.

(Y/N) stares at that weird construction with furrowed brows, really trying to grasp what the hell they're looking at. Pyra was still as well, but his head tilted towards his human as he curiously observes their reaction. Seems like they too have no clue what is this-.

However, (Y/N) manages to make out the shape of it and instantly burst out laughing.

—"No way! No way someone actually made one!"— you say between laughs.

The beast simply observes them, letting out a low wondering rumble. Is that another pointless joke humans have? (Y/N) is laughing hard so it must be something very funny or very stupid.

After the laughter had ceased, (Y/N) takes a look at their monster and suddenly remember what he wanted in the first place. Oh, right. They were supposed to explain what is that.

—"Okay, okay."— you say between giggles as you point at the object. —"That thing over there is supposed to be a mistletoe. Remember when I told you about Christmas and how people decorate that one fuzzy tree? Well, this thing is also kinda a Christmas tradition. People hang it somewhere high and when two step or pass underneath it, they have to kiss."—

While (Y/N) explains, Pyra listens to them carefully. But the second they mention the kiss part, the air between them shifts and becomes... Odd. And Pyra himself still, way too still.

(Y/N) of course feels the change, and is quick to start clarifying.

—"But of course, it's optional. It's not like you're forced to kiss anyone. If anything, I never did! So I suppose this will remain as a silly tradition some-"—

Their speech is replaced by a tiny gasp when the monster suddenly grabs their jaw, gently lifting and moving their gaze where he needed. Their eyes narrow slightly when they noticed a tongue peek out from his helmet and slowly, almost shily, wiggle towards their face.

—"Aww. What a polite guy."— you chuckle as a little blush creeps on your cheeks. —"Well of course I'll give you a kiss."—

Ever since they introduced this new method of showing affection, it wasn't rare to witness Pyra ask for a 'kiss' once or twice. It's kinda funny to see how shy he gets, always taking it slow and giving them enough time to stop or pull away. Do they do that? Nuh-uh! Do they think it feels gross? Weird, yes. But (Y/N) is deranged so it's fine.

The pink muscle soon presses against their lips, and they respond by giving it a kiss while holding it in place gently, totally unbothered by its wet and slippery texture. They could feel Pyra practically melt into the gesture, he does it every time. It's small, but is the closest they can get to an actual kiss, and the intimacy and specialness of it seems to get the beast to his very core.

After some second, when (Y/N) attempts to lean back, a pair of big arms gets a hold around them, cementing them in place completely and pulling them closer to the monster. The said beast lets out a low menacing growl as his tongue licks their cheek and part of the jaw. The message was clear...

M̵̞͔̥̏̌̊o̷͕͒̓͑ͅŗ̷̭̝̓̾e̵̠̤͓̅̒̋.

He wanted more.

Despite the apparentaly hostile growls, (Y/N) showed no intimidation and simply chuckled as they roll their eyes.

—"Someone is feeling frisky, huh?"—

Another, and a bit louder, growl resonated from inside the beast's helmet. His grip around them tightening and the tongue sliding along their lips, almost begging for them to kiss it again.

—"Calm down tiger. We both know if we continue you'll get too carried on."— you coo, sliding one of your hands along one side of his helmet.

He groans with certain displeasure, but his grip soon losens as he slightly tilts his head into their touch, yet he doesn't let go neither.

—"If you're really feeling like doing it then let's go somewhere else. You don't want anyone to see me naked, don't you?"—

This time their answer is no longuer a growl or a sound, but the same pair of big hands lighting their form up and swinging over a broad shoulder.

Before starting to walk however, the monster reaches up and snatches the little paper mistletoe. (Y/N) of course notices that and can't hold back the little laugh.

—"Well well, see you really liked this particular tradition."—

They get no response as the monster resumes his walking. But the small squeeze on one of their thighs was enough proof to know that they got it right and it won't be the last time the see the little item.

After this little interaction, and probably after what's about to come, (Y/N) doubts to ever be able to feel that magic of Christmas again.

However, they realize that they still experienced something new. The magic of the mistletoe.

Is that an actual thing? Who knows.

But it worked on Pyra so it must be a thing, right?

It worked well after all.

...Too well.

[pcheyes]

the music god from your pre calculus class

pairing: anton x fem reader

genre: fluff, strangers to friends ??

warnings: none

synopsis: the person who sits in your seat before you always puts music recommendations in the calculator, and you’re dying to know who it is

word count: 638

song suggestions: somethin stupid-frank sinatra

you walked into your pre calculus class and sat down. immediately you notice the calculator.

it isnt a fancy calculator, its just a school provided one, with a creepy eye drawing in the back. but everyday someone in the class before you types a song recommendation.

COME THRU-H.E.R.

everyday you try and get to class early to find the elusive person with the really good music taste, but you never catch them. you ask around for who sits there but they all laugh and walk away. you pull out your phone and go to spotify to add yet another song to your playlist called “randos music recommendations”. the playlist ranged from rnb, classical, jazz, to kpop. you continue the class trying to take notes but your mind wanders so you listen to his song from yesterday

FEATHER-SABRINA CARPENTER

‘who’s this person who leaves these songs?’

‘are they hot?’

‘what if im hallucinating all these songs?’

the bell rings and you walk to your next class, listening to the new song. 

⊹☾⋆⁺₊🎧✩°｡

today you were determined.

and you had a plan

you would fake sick to get a pass to the nurses office before your calculus class, and you would creep towards the room and look in to see who sits there. the time came to fake cramps to go to the nurses office and when you did you made a beeline to the calculus class. theres a window peaking into the class so you decided to watch from there. you scope the classroom to find your seat and the mysterious music god who blesses you every day.

and when you do.

oh god you almost slipped from the stool you were standing on because he was beautiful. he had his headphones on and was working on the problem. the class period was ending so he started typing his song recommendation for the day. his friends came over and started talking to him. 

“dude are you ever gonna face her? these song thingies were sweet at first but its getting sad. you always relace your shoes and stretch so you can get out before she comes. i’ve been saying i dont know you for a solid week now” his friend said as he scoffed “sohee what the heck!” the headphone boy said (you had named him that once you saw his headphones) “what ever. i need a headstart, i think i heard her friends say shes sprinting to calc today. i cant take any chances.” he starts stretching and relacing his shoes. the bell rings and he runs out the class. you grab your bag and run after him. he ends off at the orchestra hall and you yank him by his backpack. he yelps and locks eyes with you.

“i finally found you, you music god!” you say out of breath.

he laughs “oh goody!”

“dude who the hell says oh goody” 

“sorry” he says. “look i’m late for my orchestra practice so could you just uh, god you’re really pretty, look at the calculator and call it a day” 

you pull out a market and motion for him to stick out his forearm. he gives it to you and you write your number on his forearm. 

“make sure to send all your song recommendations to me. my ears are blessed after your beautiful songs or something.” his cheeks turn a deep scarlet. “oh uh yeah sure sure i’ll send it to you totally.” you nod and start walking away. suddenly he shouts after you “your hair looks really pretty today! not that it doesnt look pretty every day, i just like the slick back in the front, with the little curls in the front. it frames your face really well. makes you look extra beautiful.” you smile back at him.

“thanks music boy”

authors note: we need to bring back loser anton, he hasnt been his loser self since love 119. but i actually do this everyday in maths class and someone caught me leaving the class late and screamed “ITS THE MUSIC GIRL !!” but thanks to @chlorinecake and @kairoot for the songs !!

taglist: @unikivrse msg or comment to be added

feedback, reblogs, and comments are greatly appreciated

[maxiscoolongg]

PATRICK HOCKSETTER HEADCANNONS

——

☆ Lets bfr yall probably became friends because you were tutoring him on math because he is failing in school😭😭

★ like the teacher would pull you and Patrick aside after class and be like "Y/n you are going to be tutoring Patrick" you were stuned tbh

☆ Patrick however was really happy or something. When you guys were tutoring he kept asking questions about you.

★ You guys got surprisingly close.

☆ He gives you so much nicknames😭 (Ex: doll, dollface, pretty, darling, peaches)

★ he is really affectionate like REALLY affectionate.

——

You were at your locker getting your books for next period until you felt to hands go into your hoops of your shorts you giggled a little as you said "Hello pat" you said sweetly. That same sweet voic that made him fall in love with you "Hey dollface, I was thinking we watch a movie at your house?" He asked as his hands traveled to your waist as his head went onto your shoulder as you looked at him "Mm.. Maybe, I have dance after school" you said as you turned around

"Awh, come one can't you just skip one class, prettyface" He said flirty "I guess I can, but if my mom yells at me I will blame you" You said smiling a tiny bit as he smirked.

——

☆ He was the one who confessed to you for sure.

★ he LOVES watching horror movies.

☆ He for sure loves scream (Pretened it was released then)

★ Loves the way you get closer to him everytime a murder scene pops up

☆ If you don't flinch he love if you rant about it.

——

You guys were watching a movie and a murder scene popped up, he looked at you a little as you got closer in fear he watched as your brows came together as the character made a stupid decision "Oh my God!- she is so stupid! Why wouldn't she run the other way!" You yelled as he chuckled a little. He ADORED the way you ranted about movies he loves it so much.

——

★ Loves your lips, thighs, waist, ass,

☆ Definitely whispers stuff in your ear during school like ge would wishper stuff to make you laugh or to make you flustered

★ Your scared of the Bowers gang. Without a doubt, they are nice to you (Vic is the nicest) but still. You are friends with the losers and the keep telling you about them but you say "They're nice to me though!"

☆ Patrick definitely stalks you and takes pictures without permission. He loves the pictures of you drawing in class,

——

YANDERE PATRICK HC

♡ you thought the relationship was all lovey dovey? No way.

♥︎ this man is so fucking overprotective, to the point its not even funny anymore

♡ if your asking me bro probably started stalking you in the 6th grade💀🙏���

♥︎ anyway, he probably planned the whole tutoring thing cause believe it or not he is actually probably really smart.

♡ teachers are SCARED of patrick, bro can practically get anything he wants so be careful my guy.

♥︎ If your hanging out with one of friends? Nope. Not any more! Patrick can keep you company,

♡ loves and I mean LOVES when he takes photos of you when you don't know, like bro will definitely pull a Johnathan byers and take photos of you changing. Not even kidding.

——

"I'm going to bed night ma!" You said to your mom as you gave her a kiss on the cheek and walked in your room closing the door behind you as you walked to your closet and took off your top to grab a pajama shirt

"God.." Patrick whispered from outside of your window, he was far but not the far, he was far enough you couldn't see him. He took a quick photo and almost chocked on his breath when he saw you bare naked. "Fucking gorgeous, darling" he whispered to himself but then again towards you

——

♥︎ bro is a sneaky mother fucker, steals everything.

♡ think a bracelet of yours looks nice? His now. No he doesn't do it because he wants it, he did it because he thinks you looked good wearing it and now he wants it so he can have a piece of you on him.

(EDITED March, 31st 2023.)

THATS ALL I HOPE YOU ENJOYED!!!

[idiotgojo]

chat can we please have a toji x reader and they’re childhood friends?

hope you enjoy anon!

warning; mutual pining, drunk toji, bar scene, nothing much really just fluff

The night air felt heavy as you stormed into the dimly lit bar, your eyes searching frantically for one person: Toji Fushiguro. After days of worry, combing through every place he might've been, you finally spotted him—sitting casually at the bar, drink in hand, looking like nothing had happened. You were glad to see him alive but furious was an understatement.

You marched over ready to give him an earful,

"Toji!" you shouted his name, loud enough to bring the entire bar to a standstill, but he barely reacted. As if used to your antics, as if this hadn't almost become a routine for the both of you for 20-plus years.

"Oh... heyyy?" he said deeply relaxed and nonchalant "totally did not expect you to be here"

You could feel your eye twitch with rage. how dare he? How could he act like he didn't disappear for days longer than the last time?

"Are you kidding me?!" you shouted, your voice shaking angrily. "I've been looking for you for days! You just sit here like nothing happened?!"

Toji blinked slowly, then took another sip of his drink, completely unfazed by your outburst. "I was fine."

"I thought you were dead" You crossed your arms.

"takes more than a mission to take me out" he chuckled.

Slamming your hand on the bar counter, you made several nearby glasses rattle, drawing even more attention from the others.

Toji leaned back in his chair, watching you with a bemused look, clearly enjoying how worked up you were. "You worry too much," he said with a shrug.

You've had enough for the night and so has he honestly. You grab his arm and roughly yank him up from the barstool. He chuckled softly, letting you drag him out of the bar, too entertained by your reaction to protest.

You stormed down the street still angry while Toji towed behind a little slower, stumbling from all those drinks catching up to him. He was clearly drunk, but still managing to keep his usual confident swagger.

"I don't know why you're always so mad at me," he said, a teasing slur to his voice. "It's kinda cute, though." you didn't bother to reply, simply shooting him a glare.

-

When you finally reached your apartment, you all but shoved him inside. Toji leaned against the wall, his eyes heavy-lidded as he gave you a lazy grin. "You always take care of me," he mumbled, sounding almost fond. "I don't deserve you."

You took off your shoes, making your way to the kitchen to get him some water. He takes small, slow steps towards you. His drunken gaze lingered on you for a moment before he spoke, his voice softer now. "You should be my girlfriend."

The words hung in the air, catching you completely off guard. You stared at him, your hand frozen in mid-air as you reached for the water bottle you had set on the table for him. "What?" you asked, certain you had misheard him.

"be my girlfriend," Toji repeated, his grin widening just slightly.

"you're drunk. Don't say stupid things"

But he didn’t let it go. "I'm serious," he said, his voice still slurring slightly. "You're always there… yelling at me, taking care of m— you care about me, right?"

"you're reckless and do dangerous things god knows why," you say trying to keep your voice steady.

"Yeah… but you still care." silence falls between the both of you. You just stare at each other not daring to make the first move.

"I like it... When you yell at me… it means you care."

His drunken gaze might've been hazy, but there was a sincerity in his tone that you couldn't ignore. Even if he was drunk, even if he was saying it in the middle of one of his reckless moments, it felt real.

"Are you even going to remember this in the morning?" your voice softer now, less defensive.

He chuckled again, leaning against the wall with no other choice of support. "Dunno," he muttered, "but you better remind me, just in case." You let out a small laugh, shaking your head in disbelief. Toji was impossible.

"We should go to bed, you can barely stand anymore"

"We should be making out right now" "—No! We should not!" thank god the lights were low so he couldn't see the blush creeping up your cheeks.

You ushered him to his bed and he followed without protest, looking at you through a lover's lense.

There was a smile on your face as you helped him to bed, tucking him in. He grabbed your hand, his grip surprisingly strong for someone so drunk. "Night girlfrienddd,,,,," he slurred sleepily excited.

"Goodnight loser"

disclaimer; I'm not even a real writer. I just write for fun, a place to collect and keep the scenarios I create in my head before I go to bed lol. This is my first written piece! Enjoy :)

© idiotgojo 2024 do not steal or translate. if you wish to use the idea and create a better fic please tag me :)

[melrodrigo]

lunch - t.c. drabble

Tara Carpenter x Fem!Reader

Summary: You want to recreate Lunch with your girlfriend.

A/n: This was purely for my entertainment. Tell me ur favs from the album?

It was Billie Eilish’s fault.

It definitely wasn’t yours, turning on the new HIT ME HARD AND SOFT album and skipping to Lunch for something to listen to while you watched your own girlfriend make lunch. You’d been more than obsessed with the snippet she let out recently, and Tara had suffered the consequences.

The rays peeked through the window and reflected her brown hair, making it a shiny auburn—a color you adored. Tara in the sun was something you couldn’t believe you were around to witness, almost daily at this point, watching as her dark brown eyes sparkled and shone. The tan skin that would turn olive at the right angle, and lips that brightened with the sun.

You couldn’t lie—the vibrations of the music mixed with Tara’s tied up hair and pink cheeks were enough to have you feeling some type of way.

It definitely didn’t help that she was lip syncing and swaying to the song ever so slightly, smirking a little whenever she looked up and caught your eye.

You make your decision in a split second. It’s the easiest thing you’ve ever done you think, coming up with this stupid plan.

You saunter over to Tara, trying to act nonchalant. She eyes you a little but lets it go when she sees you stop at the head of the kitchen table and sitting down.

“If I could, I would totally eat you for lunch.” You lean over to wrap your hands around your girlfriend and whisper in her ear, trying (and failing) to sound sexy.

“Gee thanks, what a charmer you are.” Tara says and hides the soft smile that comes naturally.

Luckily for her, you could only see one side of her face, the lopsided smile hidden on the either side. You let out an unimpressed huff.

“Okay but for real I totally would.” You try again, snaking your head and letting it rest in the crook of her neck, peppering the tender skin with light kisses.

Tara hums a little and continues cooking, continuing to sway to the music. She’s made up her mind already, but it’s nice to see you beg and grovel a little more.

“I love it when you cook.” You mumble against her, gripping her waist and urging her to turn around.

She gives up on trying to make food a few seconds later when she can tell you aren’t going anywhere.

You draw her in, cheeky smile while you stare at her lips shamelessly. Those perfect lips, tasting to you like how ambrosia would to a mortal; it’s near fatal. She fits right in between your thighs, her small frame easy to maneuver.

Tara was insecure about her height. Something you tried to show time and time again was nothing—in fact, you enjoyed the height difference a little too much to admit—always made Tara moody on a particularly shitty day.

“God, I love you.” You tell her, eyes finally shifting up to her eyes. Her eyes twinkle; you know you’re close to getting her to crack.

“You’re so desperate.” She whispers, leaning into you. It isn’t meant as an insult, and you don’t take it as one.

It was merely the truth; and you hated that she knew it.

“You need a seat? I’ll volunteer.” You sing along, letting go of one of Tara’s hands to point to your face, giggling as Tara rolls her eyes.

The sight of the brunette getting closer is enough to get you to stop.

“Still hungry?” She asks, and you think you might just die. It takes everything in you not to salivate openly. She’s tilting her head, a sign she’s decided she’s won.

So maybe you really owed Billie Eilish a kudos, you think as Tara stands up and drags you out of the room.

“Thank god Jojo Siwa invented gay pop.” You say, laughing a little nervous. It was a bad habit of yours to joke when you got excited.

It seems to fall on deaf ears, the girl in front of you not paying attention to any of the words pouring out your mouth now.

“What-what about lunch?” You gesture to her unfinished cooking wildly, knees buckling against her frame pushing you against her bedroom door.

“Fuck lunch.”

[pjo-hoo-toa-freakazoid]

A lil rant about my experience with this god forsaken fandom

I made this blog around 2020 when I was 13 years old. This was my first shot at a dedicated fandom blog and I was pretty excited for it, to make friends, draw fanart, post fun stuff and what not.

All fun right? Right, so tell me why was it that literal 20 years olds felt the need to harass me, a then 13 year old girl with a relatively small blog, for the dumbest reasons possible?

What did I do that subjected me to 2 and a half years worth constant daily threats and harassment? Hmm???

You wanna know my crime? Apparently I showed interest in an antagonist character, which is so awful that grown adults felt the need to bully me. And following those adults came young impressionable people my age, that joined the bandwagon of hate against me.

As if other fandoms don’t have people literally dedicating themselves to a villain, no one bats an eye to that. Why did this fandom have such an issue? I also apparently dared to criticise the main character for a few of his flaws. Such a horrible thing to do right? I need to be burnt at the stake for it right?

I didn’t follow the “fixed” standards of the fandom so I was to be sent de*th/r*pe threats daily?? For not following the “rules” I was to be ostracised?

No please someone explain…I’m but a dumb bitch, I don’t understand what I did so terribly wrong to deserve this? Did I start a war? Did I rip open someone’s plush? Did I bully someone for not having the same ideology as me?

No it was but the fandom itself that for some reason found it so fun to bully a 13 year old, send her de*th and r*pe threats all because of not being of pjo fandom standards…let’s go and bombard her with hate!!

Do you realise how fucking stupid…this all sounds? Do you realise how low this is? Was bullying a child so fun? So trendy at the time?

Then came the victim blaming- I laugh everytime I remember people saying I must have done something really bad to get such harassment, that it’s all for attention. What kid wants to get hate everyday of their life for 2 whole fucking years? Tell me?

You know wanna know what I did wrong? Fight back, call the hate anons out for their bigotry. I was vocal about it, that’s what I did wrong right? Stand my ground? People said to ignore it and I did. But I still got bullied daily even if I didn’t respond. What was all this for?

I can imagine people asking why I didn’t simply leave the fandom? Why the fuck should I? I enjoy the stories, I enjoy the characters, they were my escape from real life struggles. It was the bullying I didn’t enjoy. Everyday I’d log on to enjoy posts and a few minutes later when the bigots found out I was active I was sent an anonymous threat.

Many of my oldest friends had to reduce the amount they interacted with me in fear of receiving harassment themselves. The extent of this is bigotry is beyond my understanding.

I did not deserve this much suffering AND ALL FOR WHAT? A STUPID LITTLE REASON THAT HAS BARELY ANY WEIGHT TO IT. Do people even realise the extent of what happened is beyond me. And Idc if I sound selfish, I want a fucking apology from all those bigots. I want compensation for the 2 and a half years of abuse I endured alone. I just want this bigotry to end, which surprise surprise! Still continues to happen.

Why do I bring this up now that it’s all over you ask? I’ve actually brought it up once before, but it was swept under the rug, (My deepest appreciation to the very few people who supported me when I first talked about it) I’m just finally being more vocal, because this has stuck with me. For all those 4 years this has stuck with me. It doesn’t mean if it’s over for now that all the trauma doesn’t linger. It still affects me to this day.

In fact I’m still being stalked by one of the people who sent me hate anons. One of the hate anons was revealed to be one of my bestest friends, they had admitted this to me and had the nerve to beg me to still remain friends. They were also the person who groomed me. They have left the fandom scene and I’ve rid of them from my life but they still continue to stalk me.

What do I get from ranting about all this? A bit of solace, a bit of weight off my shoulders. But nearly not enough for me to actually fucking heal. I also want people to realise how bigoted some are and how horrible the mentality of “fixed fandom standards/ideologies” is and that we as a fandom need to fucking change. Heck I know this issues in every fandom. But can we at least start with ours for a change for once?

Along side all of this there’s also a lot of racism and trans/homophobia that still actively prevails. Just look at what Leah went through when her casting was announced. Did she deserve all of that?? “Not my annabeth” do you realise how horrible that is to say to a CHILD? She is Annabeth whether you like it or not. And you are very welcome to leave if you wish to stick to your stupid racist nonsense.

I bet there are many others who have probably suffered the same may it not be for the same reasons, but everyone of them deserve their apologies and compensation as well.

Idc if I’ll get hate for this. I said what I said. I’m just so done.

[siriusblacksbxtch]

heyy saw ur requests were open and wondering if u could do a hate fuck smut with loki? could include degradation, impact play, overstimulation, teasing, (if ur comfortable ofc) and bottom male reader, top loki! thanks so much if u end up doing this hope ur doing okay🫶🫶💗💗

A/N: thank you so much! :) sorry this took forever

Pairings: Loki x male!reaader

Warnings: Nastayyyyy

You hated him really you did, glaring him down from the other side of your apartment where you had graciously allowed him to stay. In his stupid godly outfit, his own glare trained on you as you stood across the room.

“What?” You snapped finally, the god chuckling in return.

“Watch your tone.”

“I’m not the one sitting on my ass whining about how you can’t take over the world again. Newsflash, you are literally a god!”

“And what about you staying locked away with me listening to my every command?” He hummed as your face flushed red, trying to walk past only for his hand to claps around your jaw. “My little whore, then?”

You pushed him back roughly, only landing yourself pressed against the wall with your hands beside your head.

“Like you said, love. I am a god.” Loki’s lips went to your neck as he slid his knee between your legs, moving his hips to draw the whiny moans from you that he loved.

He smashed his lips to yours, increasing the pace of his hips as your teeth clattered against each others.

“Not so brave now, hm?”

Suddenly his hands were laced through your (h/c) hair pulling you down roughly to your knees.

“Kneel,” he gave a wicked smirk, a glare on your face from where you were.

“You’re such an asshole,” you seethed.

“That’s what you love isn’t it?” Loki pulled you from your knees ripping your shirt off before backing you on to your bed and flipping you over. “You love it when I’m rough with you.”

You hissed through your teeth at the sharp smack on your ass, feeling the god pull down your pants. Another smack immediately following, a low chuckle escaping Loki at the moan that fell past your lips.

“You’re such a good boy, (Y/N).”

“Oh, fuck off— oh!” The curses fell on your tongue as Loki roughly entered you, loud moans falling from your mouth as he thrusted in and out, pinning your face to the sheets with one hand while the other took your hands behind your back.

“What was that love?” He hummed over the sounds of your moans, moving impossibly faster as you grew louder. “Care to try again?”

You ignored him feeling the way he filled you, your body hot as he easily moved in and out, his strong grip on your wrist being the only thing keeping you steady.

Suddenly he stopped, a low whine escaping your lips

“Loki, please,” you whined again trying to move back against him. “Please.”

“Tsk tsk. Calling me all sorts of nasty things and now you’re the one whining.”

You huffed at his low laugh, feeling the way his fingers traced your back.

“Beg.”

“Please, Loki. Please, keep going I need you.”

You grunted in surprise when he smack your ass again, much harder than before, you could feel the handprint forming as he did it again, pulling you back by your hair so his lips pressed to his ear.

“Watch your mouth from now on, love.”

A loud moan pulled from your lips as you felt him enter once again, only this time he held you by the throat. Every single noise you made hit the God’s ear like an urge to keep going, be rougher.

“You like it when I use you like your mine?”

You could only make noises of agreement, digging your nails into Loki’s wrists.

“You’re mine aren’t you?” He all but growled as you struggled to nod your head. “Say it.”

“I’m yours,” you panted out as a string of moans filled your apartment. “I’m all yours Loki.”

You felt your own release spill to your legs, while you could feel Loki’s inside of you, one last drawn out sigh escaping as he finally pulled out.

“You should be a brat more often,” he gave you a boyish grin, placing a kiss on your cheek.

“You should be a disappointment more often.”

And by the look on his face, you knew you made a mistake when he pulled you onto him once again.

[kinardsevan]

several sentence sunday

i did a teaser of the mini i've finished (but not posted b/c i'm not entirely satisfied with it yet), but @marvelousbuckley tagged me so ofc i have to give you more.

here's what's coming next in it's gonna be alright (piece by piece) [aka the aneurysm fic]

-

“What was that whole speech you gave me,” Evan says softly, tugging on the collar of Tommy’s hoodie to pull him in closer. Tommy leans down over him, placing light kisses over his lips and cheeks. “When they put me under before?” 

“Don’t really remember,” Tommy tells him between kisses. “But you said you were going to marry the hell out of me after all of this, and I’m holding you to that.” 

Evan lets out a small laugh, pulling Tommy's face up enough that he can see him. They stare at each other for a moment as he brushes his thumbs over the tears on Tommy’s face. 

“No goodbyes,” he murmurs, shifting his hand down brushing his thumb over Tommy’s bottom lip. “Because we’re not finished.” 

“No,” Tommy affirms, his voice strained. He sniffs as Evan brushes another tear off his cheek, and Tommy gulps. “I'd do this all over again, no matter the outcome, as long as it meant I got to love you.” 

“Stop,” Evan rasps at him. “Not going anywhere this time, either. I’m coming back.” 

“I know,” Tommy says, trying his best to sound insistent as he presses a kiss to Evan’s thumb. "But I still want you to know.” He pauses for a moment, staring at Evan and biting hard on the inside of his bottom lip as his own chest rises and falls slowly with shallow breaths, trying to maintain his composure. A smile pulls across his face as more tears fall. “Who would’ve fucking thought I’d find the whole damn universe inside of a pair of blue eyes.” 

Evan furrows his brow and lets out a small grunt, pulling Tommy back into him, kissing him roughly. It’s not sweet in the slightest, done out of desperation and hunger, from a need to make sure the other man knows he’s right there with him. 

“You made me whole,” Evan whispers as he presses his forehead against Tommy’s, holding tightly to his face. “I didn’t even know what I was missing, and you lit me up like the fucking Fourth of July. Fuck all those commentaries on drowning and being saved. It was like half of me didn’t even exist until you kissed me. Like-like I was always there but in the dark. And then you, you came along with your stupid helicopter and dry fucking humor about ‘we’re probably gonna die anyway’, and I made sense. I made sense to me. Everything I never understood about why I could never settle, why I never fit.” 

A small squeak comes out of the back of Tommy’s throat as Evan pushes him up enough to see him again. “You found the universe?” He blinks away a tear as he smiles up at Tommy. “I was a shell of who I am now before you. I am who I am today because of you.” 

Tommy shakes his head, always so quick to dismiss any credit turned his way, but Evan’s grip is tight. 

“Yes,” he insists, leaning up off the pillow under his head toward Tommy, drawing his gaze back to him. “You…” He laughs at himself and rolls his eyes. “You met me in the dark, and you fucking lit me up.” 

Tommy stares at him for a beat longer, like he’s questioning whether he deserves the credit of Evan’s statement, and then leans into him, kissing him once more, brushing his hand down the top of Evan’s curls. 

“I love you,” he chokes out between kisses. “So god-damn much. Today, tomorrow, the rest of my life.” 

“Through the universe and across the skies,” Evan whispers back to him.

[lanawinterscigarettes]

Maybe a toymaker and reader he stumbles across Y/N drawing in the park and they both get inspired off of each other and fluffness.

Or she goes into his toy shop looking for a gift for a niece/nephew and toymaker just falls head over heels

I went with the second idea as I had a bit more inspiration for that one, hope that's okay <3 (also this title is so freaking dorky but it fits and also references one of my favorite Christmas songs so)

Wanna Hippopotamus for Christmas (The Toymaker x reader)

Warnings: The Toymaker is a massive simp for the reader, the reader is out buying something the week before Christmas (the horror), both The Toymaker and the reader are massive dorks

It was a quiet morning in The Toymaker's shop, like most of them were. He didn't really mind, as he was used to being alone, but still, some company would be nice.

It was when he was mulling over his thoughts that he heard the bell over the shop door ring, signaling someone had come inside. He put down the toy train he'd been tinkering with and left his workroom in the back of the shop so he could greet whoever it was who'd entered, and that's when he saw you.

Something about you was different than anyone else he'd ever seen before, even if he couldn't quite put his finger on it. He was so awestruck he hadn't even noticed you'd walked over towards the counter where he was until he heard you clear your throat to get his attention, effectively snapping him out of whatever trance he was in.

"Um, hi," you greeted, giving him a friendly (if somewhat awkward) smile.

The Toymaker quickly put on a charming face, trying to ignore just how much your smile made his heart soar. "Welcome, welcome! Tell me, what can I help you with today?"

"Well, I need to get a gift for my niece," you began, "for the holidays, and I know it was stupid of me to wait this long, but I just kept putting it off, and-" You let out a sigh, shaking your head some.

"Anyway, regardless of the reason, I was wondering if maybe you had something? She's, like, obsessed with anything hippo themed, so if you have, like, a stuffed animal or something..."

"I think I have just the thing! Give me one moment, and I'll go retrieve it from the back for you." The Toymaker flashed you a dazzling smile before heading to one of the storage rooms in the back.

It was true that he most likely did have something back there of the nature you were looking for, but that wasn't the main reason he'd offered to go check. What he really needed was a break away from you and your enchanting, orb-like eyes.

This was ridiculous. He shouldn't be feeling this way, especially over a human. But he couldn't help.

He tried to push those conflicting thoughts to the side as he looked for what he'd gone to do in the first place; find a hippo. A plush one, anyway.

You were still standing at the counter when he came back out, drumming your fingers along the edge of it with a bored expression on your face, though he noticed your eyes light up at the large stuffed hippo he was holding.

"Sorry I couldn't find anything smaller. It is the week before Christmas, you know," he lightly chastised.

"Oh, it's perfectly fine. She's gonna love it," you reassure him with a warm smile, that same smile that made him want to bottle it and put on a shelf so he could have a chance to look at it whenever he wanted to.

Part of him thought maybe he could do that, seeing as he had the power. He could if he truly wanted to, but the idea of willingly putting you in harm's way for his own personal gain only made him feel... guilty? Is that what this feeling was?

You'd pulled your wallet out while he was lost in his thoughts, already rifling through it to find what you needed in order to pay. "So, how much do I owe you...?"

The Toymaker quickly shook his head at the question. "Nothing, it's on the house." He could've laughed at how wide your eyes seemed to get at his words.

"Are you sure? I wouldn't want to put you out of your way, or anything."

God, you were adorable. "I'm certain. Although... perhaps, you could come visit me again, sometime soon. If you'd like."

He couldn't believe the words that just came out of his own mouth. You were going to be upset, weren't you? And then he heard soft laughter.

"Yeah, totally. I'm a little busy for the next week or so due to the holidays, but I'll try to make it back in before the new year."

His face broke into an excited smile. "Wonderful! I look forward to it."

You smiled back, though this time you added a little wink, too, something that made him weak in the knees. "Great! I'll see you then."

You picked up the rather large hippo plush from where it'd been set on the counter and headed for the door. Once you got back outside, you gave him one final wave through the window of the shop before leaving.

The Toymaker just watched, not being able to do much with the intense feeling of his heart hammering in his chest. He did know one thing, however.

He couldn't wait to see you again.

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[darlingmbappe]

New Tank Top | Kylian Mbappé x Fem Reader

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

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

Masterlist

Kylian was truly obsessed with your boobs.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Buzz. Buzz.

You ignore it.

“Yes! That’d be great.”

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

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

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

Ky: Get down here right now

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

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

Ky: I think I deserve a victory prize 

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

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

You: Outside the locker rooms

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He cocks his head. “Am I gawking?”

“Completely.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Kylian?” You both hear from the outside.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

No. Fucking. Way.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The hint was not received. 

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

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

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

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

He persists. “It’s just Instagram.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Ky: It’s not funny.

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

Ky: They know you’re mine.

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

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

You: Just come home and fuck me already.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Do you like it?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You did.

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

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

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

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

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

“Mhm.” You whine.

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

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

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

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

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

“Ky… please, baby.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

So he pulled out. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Not yet, amour. Not until I say so.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The next morning you wake up alone, as per usual. Kylian is off training and the first thought in your head is that you gotta get home to grab the mail. The poor mailman must be struggling to pack it into the little box attached to the front door. Groggily, you pick up your phone and read the good morning text from Kylian.

Ky: Good morning baby. You were sleeping like a damn rock when I left but you looked so cute.

It made you giggle.

You: Stalker

The floor was cold but the air was colder, seeing as you were still completely naked from last night, but power through and patter to the bathroom to pee… but your reflection in the mirror caught your attention.

You gasp, getting closer to see the damage done from last night's activities. You couldn’t whip your phone out fast enough.

You: I’m so mad at you.

You set it down and trace the bruises littering your body in the shape of Kylians mouth – they were everywhere. Everywhere. It would probably be easier to point to the places that were free of the dark pigmentation. 

Ky: tf did I do?

He had to see for himself, snapping selfies as evidence, angled left, right, up, down, even some from the back where he had marked you as he fucked you from behind. 

Ky: I’m not even sorry

Ky: That’s so hot

Ky: I’m proud of those

You laughed in disbelief.

You: How the hell am I supposed to leave the house with these? 

Ky: Guess you have to stay over for a while 

Ky: I’ll have you all to myself for a little bit longer

Kylian smirked to himself, barely able to concentrate on the workout he was currently doing, back leaning against the mirror wall as he zoomed into the pictures, cocky and proud of his creation painted all over your neck and chest. 

“Puta, Kyky!” Sergio exclaims from the exercise bike directly in front of where he sat. “Are you a vampire, or something? Sheesh, man.”

Kylian shut his phone off, only now realizing how mirrors work. “Mind your business, Ramos.” He tusked, a blush creeping up his neck and ears. 

“You saw that too?” Vitinha chuckled from another machine.

Kylian got up with a shaking finger at his team, walking over to the sauna room alone to text you in peace, sitting down on the bench.

You: I’m going home for a few days. My poor house is probably being taken over by dust

Ky: You should sell it then

He didn’t really think before typing, but pressed send anyway. Only after reading it over did he begin chewing on his fingernail with anticipation… probably not the best way to bring up moving in together for the first time. 

You: Are you joking?

He looked around the small room, noticing he was completely alone, pressing the call button.

You picked it up with a toothbrush hanging out of your mouth. “Kylian.” You greet with a foamy mouth. “Why are you asking me to sell my house?”

Just hearing your voice makes him smile shyly to himself. Even over the grain of his cell phone's speaker he thought it was the sweetest sound.  “Because I think you’d look better at mine.”

You spit out the minty paste, wiping your mouth quickly, but not really knowing what to say, a dry laugh coming out. “Is that the only reason?” 

“You know it’s not.” He twiddles with the tag on the towel next to him. “You make everything better. Like, I actually look forward to coming home when I know you’re waiting for me. It always smells good because you’re obsessed with lighting those little scented candles after dinner. Sometimes, I forget you don’t actually live there and I get really sad when I get home and it’s quiet. I know I can be moody at times and a handful to deal with… but… I don���t know. You’re the happiest part of my day.” He rubs his forehead. “I guess I’m sounding a little selfish here… but what I’m trying to say is that – when you’re ready, I am too. I want it to be our home.”

The line goes silent, but the sauna begins to echo with a synchronous and dramatic “aww” from his teammates that decided to eavesdrop on his conversation. Kylian hurls the towels surrounding him at them aimlessly as they scurry off in laughter. “Come on, guys! A little privacy!” He yells, phone attached to his ear still.

You chuckle. “What was that?”

“Uh, nothing. Sorry.” He nervously answers, pacing a little with the jitters. 

“Well…” You say, only amplifying the nerves that ran through Kylians limbs, his poor thumbnail raw from the wrath of his teeth. “If you have all those wonderful reasons to keep me around, what the hell took you so long to ask me, then?”

He pauses. “I’m a wimp.” You both chuckle. “Wait, is that a yes?”

Your laughter over the phone makes his heart patter. “Yeah, Ky. It’s a yes.” He does a little leap of excitement, joyfully laughing over the line. “But I still have to go home today… and I’m still a little mad at you about these hickeys.”

“Honestly, nothing can ruin my mood right now.” He smiles. “Alright, amour. I should go, but I love you. I’ll see you soon, okay?”

“Okay, Ky. I love you too.”

He hangs up the phone, grin permanently etched on his wrinkled face as he saunters out the sauna room with a pep in his step. As soon as he walks out the team's eyes are on him, clearly waiting for the update on the conversation they had butted their noses into.He shakes his head, but continues to smile from ear to ear. “She said yes.” He tusks. “So damn snoopy…”

A/N: I like this one! Except (idk how to explain it) I'm having a bad grammar week. Like I've been saying the wrong words and forgetting words in English and while editing I kept second guessing myself so PLEASE let me know if my grammar/word choice is wrong, but kindly, please :). Remember that I'm still, and always will be, learning english. It's a hard language.

ALSO!!! I've contacted tumblr about this issue but I've had a lot of people let me know they're not getting the notification even though theyre on my taglist. Idk what that's about but I hope it gets fixed soon. <3

Taglist: @trentione @mentalbaddie @neymarsrealgf @akiraquote @mrswhitethornbelikov @kymb-10 @formula101x @photmath @marcelineslove @tsikik @iheartkyky @freshfraise @jokertbh @germanapples @urfuturesoccerwife @nightlockcornucopia @laylaynaynay130 @starlight8374 @depressoesssspresso @mbappesbae @ maddyperrezz @gigiboss @xanjoy @lovekm @jkkiks @vvbasmavv-blog @suzysface @ lolarmy72 @lizzz2967 @kylians-world @superswaggycooch @shashla @mehrmonga @abayo222 @missmo79 @tties24-7 @gurleenkl @drewstarkeysbae @ vibinwkay @ctn26 @ippid @i0veless @abayo222 @b-bradshaw @http-isabela @zoeeeruiz @mitruscity @kenanlotus0 @mbapbaesluvr @alwaysclassyeagle @nhatquynh @philipetchebest @ricsaigaslec @dfswfvf @urfav-tz @kylianswag @fanatica2023 @alexisquinnlee-bc @megannandrewss @christianpulisic10 @pleasantducktimetravel @forevernightmaree @sachaa-ff @neymarloverxxx @4nn4rchive @lunamelona @m-uga @venomwh0re @edgyficuselastica @slaywhatyouwannaslay41 @pietromaximoffsbabe @krishnan-mbappe

[prozacwhorehouse]

too good (lip gallagher x reader blurb)

where lip comes to you after fiona kicks him out because he got expelled 😔

This is so short I just needed it out of my drafts NEOW

no warnings, just swearing !! also not proofread so entirely my bad if it switches from you pronouns to she pronouns

“I’ll get it! Jesus!!” he can hear yelling and stomping from the other side of the door.

“what!-“ the door fully opens, but when she sees who’s on her porch, she quickly narrows the opening.

“lip? jesus, you can’t be here- my dad will fucking kill you,” you whispered, trying not to draw attention. you both knew you weren’t kidding either. he could kill lip.

“who is it?!” he hears her dad yell from another room. lip assumes right away that he’s drunk on the couch, watching the game show network. when isn’t he?

“just a ding-dong ditch,” she comes up with a lie, “they’re long gone now.”

“goddamn kids,” her father groans.

the girl raises her eyebrows as if to say ‘what?’

“i uh-“ he hesitates, knowing you’ll probably have the same reaction Fiona did. but he knows you won’t let him sleep out in the cold, “fiona kicked me out.”

“well what the fuck did you do?” she asks, not surprised. as kev never fails to remind him, lip is the dumbest genius they know.

“i didn’t do anything, i just- can i come inside? fuckin’ freezing out here.” he shoves his hands in his pockets and shrugs his shoulders, avoiding her gaze

she scoffs, “what the- no, you can’t come inside- my dad-“ “will kill me. i know. can I go to your window?” She pauses, gritting her teeth while debating. she can never say no to him after all. “ugh- fine.” she groans. “go around the back.” he gives an appreciative nod and smile, skipping down the porch to go round back to climb up the terrace to her window.

“im going to bed, daddy!” she yells, from half way up the carpeted stairs. he waves her off in response, eyes glued to Card Sharks.

when she reaches her bedroom, she shuts the door and quietly locks it. she makes a hushing motion, warning lip before she opens the window for him to climb in. his feet come down on the ground a little harder than they should have, and her eyes widen, glaring at him. they pause to listen for motion downstairs- nothing.

“sorry,” he whispers, placing his bag down on her floor, walking over to plop down on her bed.

“move,” she ushers him over, taking her place on the bed. he assumes the position he’ll never admit he loves, his head in her lap.

“seriously, lip. what the fuck.” she questions, lightly tapping his cheek.

“y’know that deal fiona and I made? that we’d both get our diplomas, and id go to college?” she nods, beginning to rub his cheek. “well, ya heard about that kid who threw the chair through the window today, right?” she nods again, brows furrowed processing. “that was me. i-“ he pauses to laugh, even though it isn’t funny, “got expelled today.” her thumb stops moving, and her lips part in shock. “are you fucking serious?” she asks, hoping to god he’s fucking with her. “yep. dead.” he stares up at her wall and then back at her. she only scoffs. “jesus. you know you’re really fucking stupid, as smart as you are.” she pushes his head off her lap and crosses her arms over her chest. “what?” he scoffs, lifting himself up onto his elbows. “you. are. a. fucking. idiot.” she annunciates every word.

“jesus- it’s not that big of a deal. why finish high school when there’s no future for me anyway?” he questions. she hates when he does this. he undermines his successes, when really, he has the brightest future ahead of him, if he just tried.

she smacks him upside the head. no hesitation.

“what the fuck!” “you’re the smartest fucking guy at our school lip. kids would KILL to have the opportunity you do, to go to college and get the hell out of Chicago. and you’re just throwing it all away.” she shakes her head in disappointment, which is worse than being mad at him, he thinks.

“well when you put it that way, i sound like a fucking asshole,” he rolls his eyes, settling back down on the bed.

“Fiona’s right. she always fucking is. so you can pick yourself up and fucking do something with your life, or you can sleep on the sidewalk.” you offer him the two options, and he thinks. he knows you’re right. it’s so easy to fight his sister on things like this, because they grew up with that sibling banter. but when you back her up, it gives him an outside opinion, which he knows is the right one.

“why do ya always have to put me in my place, huh?” he smiles, and nudges her thigh. she can’t help but smile and pull his head back into her lap.

“just doing my job. bringing you down from your high horse,” she laugh, threading your fingers through his hair. it doesn’t last long before he’s moving up on the bed, pulling her to him, connecting lips.

“you’re too fucking good,” he smiles, kissing her again.

“know your worth, Gallagher.”