Thenotoriousnessa - Untitled

Okay so i listened to suggestions about Jayce being unhappy with the inflicting pain bit but being unable to say no!

my okoye x attuma headcannons

when their relationship is still a secret, they schedule secret times to meet by the water

she gives him midnight tours of wakanda

the only reason their relationship was found out was because m'baku was being nosey and followed her to see where she went all the time. he damn near passed out when he saw "big blue" (i just know he calls attuma that) emerge from the water and cup okoye's face and tell her how much he missed her

she's black cat but he's golden retriever

neither are big on pda, but they do subtle things like linking their pinkies together, stolen glances, etc.

attuma lets her braid his hair

after okoye's status as dora was revoked, she let her hair grow out some and he's absolutely obsessed with it

they sit outside and watch the stars. attuma likes to looks at the way her face lights up when a shooting star flashes across the sky

attuma hates w'kabi a little bit more than everyone else just because of the fact that he hurt okoye

okoye constantly asks to go to talokan and he promises she will one day. he just has to get around to stealing a suit for her

attuma is very well aware that she can hold her own when she needs to defend herself, but if someone gets too close for comfort, he steps behind her to show whoever it is that fucking with her means fucking with him too (and having to deal with okoye and attuma out for your blood is the stuff of nightmares)

attuma's whale likes her more than him

okoye gets a cat and attuma is so incredibly intrigued by it

they teach each other how to cook meals from talokan and wakanda

she reads and he lays beside her watching her

shuri was very skeptical at first because she didn't want okoye getting hurt but she realized that there was no one better for her. after a year or two, she starts pushing attuma to propose

he does and she accepts hesitantly because he literally lives in water and she can't, but they work it out

the wedding is small and m'baku brags during his speech that he was the first to know about them (it was actually nakia bc she knew okoye was in love almost instantly and secretly followed them for almost the entirety of one of their midnight dates)

Your voice raised when Izogie slipped her tongue through you. Amenza's hands massaged under your breasts, occasionally pinching your nipples.

"My love you must be a bit quieter, do you want Nanisca to catch us?" You weakly shook your head feeling her place sweet kisses on your neck. Even when you were trying best to be quiet, clamping your mouth shut.

Izogie's actions on you were putting you to a hard test, every lick, suck, and kiss was trying to extract a sound.

She pulled from between your legs quickly rolling your clit with her fingers, smirking as your hips were unable to still under the motions.

“Look at you, being so good for us.” Of course shed be proud.

"She is, you deserve to cum just as well" The two warriors gave you a warm smile before hotly kissing above you. A shared groan of satisfaction as they tasted your flavour.

The show of Amenza's hands squeezing against Izogie's throat as she kissed her, was bringing you closer. Thighs threatening to close around her wrist.

"I'm going to cum—" Izogie hummed feeling your clit perk under her fingers. And then you let go, mind fading away but the presence of them both being embroidered in the map of your brain.

"Beautiful" a paralleled compliment.

HouseHusband!Taeyong who's always at home waiting for you with a nice meal and a clean house after a stressful day. You never have to worry about anything other than getting your work done and giving him attention of course.

HouseHusband!Taeyong who lets you release all your stress with his body. Lets you bend him over the kitchen counter and fuck him so hard that his legs give out. He loves that he can help you feel better.

HouseHusband!Taeyong who sometimes crawls under your desk while you're in meetings and eats you out. Sloppily lapping at your clit making lewd noises. Face all shiny and coated in your arousal. He knows that he's gonna get in trouble later but he doesn't care. He's a little pain slut.

HouseHusband!Taeyong who sometimes plays dress up in your clothes. Picking flowy dresses that make him feel pretty. Bonus If you fuck him in the same dress. Getting it all dirty with his own cum. Don't worry though , he'll wash it after :)

HouseHusband!Taeyong who fucks himself silly on a big dildo when you're not home. After he cums he takes pictures of the mess he made and sends them to you. He hopes they make you feel better :(

HouseHusband!Taeyong who's so good and obedient. He makes coming home the best part of your day.

[🫀] / so close, yet so far.

— synopsis: you come to a realization about the love you have for Izogie.

— pairing: Izogie x black!fem!reader.

— author’s note: to me, the story is a bit sad but i still hope you’re able to enjoy reading it. thank you.

a slap to the face.

that’s what it had felt like when you heard Izogie utter those words to Nawi.

“love makes you weak.. i will be miganon one day. you cannot have both.”

it was on the night of the blood oath. the new trainees were sworn in with the rest of the agojie soldiers, officially merging them into one. the ceremony had ended a while ago but the line to the bathhouse was still lengthy. nevertheless, you didn’t mind waiting.

while looking for a quiet place to rest, you spotted the pair. they were tucked away in a small section of the palace. orange light from candles illuminating the space, as well as their bodies.

they hadn’t noticed you so all you could do was watch from afar.

watch as Izogie’s slender fingers were braiding Nawi’s hair swiftly but gently. sometimes, she would dip them in a small clay pot that held oil and continue. you could also hear that mocking tone of hers as Nawi talked about meeting a man in the jungle.

it all felt intimate.

almost as if you were watching a moment in time that was meant for them and only them.

suddenly, you found yourself feeling envious. once again, for the millionth time in these past couple months, you wished you were Nawi.

the girl who seemed destined to be a soldier.

sure during training days Nawi struggled a lot, but you could always see the zeal in her eyes. the eagerness in her steps and her hunger to learn. even though her determination often landed her in trouble, you could tell Izogie took a liking to her.

but you weren’t like her.

to say you didn’t have a grasp on being a soldier would be a huge understatement. the trainings seemed too rigorous for your body and you couldn’t succeed at hand to hand combat so you were never allowed to train with any weapons.

maybe that was why you could never get Izogie’s attention. at least not in a positive way.

you recalled the times you and the other trainees would run for miles around the outskirts of Dahomey. Izogie watched as you had came in last every time and she couldn’t even look you in your eyes.

her jaw clenched as you apologized and promised to do better, only for her to scold you in front of everyone and send you to wash up as the others continued to train.

it took everything in you not to cry each time. you were trying, truly. but it all seemed futile.

then, you found a friend in Fumbe. she arrived a bit earlier than Nawi but she resembled you a lot. for a while, you both struggled together and found a lot of relief in that.

but soon, even Fumbe surpassed you.

on the day of the final test to be a part of the agojie, you had failed. and you were the only one.

that day was one you would give anything to forget but it remained ingrained in your mind. it was the most humiliated you had ever been in your entire life and it happened in front of everyone.

including Izogie.

as tears streamed down your face, you could vividly remember the wide range of emotions her face displayed when King Ghezo announced you as the only person who lost.

shock, confusion, anger.

in that moment, you knew it was all over. your luck had finally run out. whoever failed to pass was sentenced to leaving the palace, never to return. you couldn’t even begin to think of where you would go.

you looked at Izogie who met your eyes for a brief moment before turning on her heel to speak with Nanisca and Amenza. all the other trainees stared at you, disbelief on their faces. meanwhile, Nawi was running over to join the three in their conversation.

by nightfall, you were getting ready to depart when Nanisca informed you that you wouldn’t be leaving.

apparently, Nawi had talked up a storm about how Dahomey couldn’t just abandon one of their sisters and since King Ghezo was in a good mood, they had a change of heart.

but since the test, Izogie refused to acknowledge you at all. you figured it was the ancestors’ way of punishing you for failing and you were willing to accept it, as long as you could still see her from afar.

as the days went by though, her treatment towards you became mentally painful. she only spoke to you when absolutely necessary and her sentences were short and curt. it also didn’t help that you all lived on the same grounds. you had to bare witness to her avoidance of you everyday.

when Izogie was with Nawi though, she called her by nicknames, teased her easily, let her touch her nails.

it hurt.

seeing all of that.

and then, tonight happened. you weren’t allowed to take the blood oath.

all you could simply do was watch.

and to add more salt to your wounds, here she was telling Nawi that she had no interest in love.

it made you feel like a fool.

you felt pathetic.

of course Izogie wasn’t focused on love. she was another soldier here destined for greatness. everyone admired her not just for her fighting skills, but also for her ability to balance strictness and care. she was well respected by many so why?

why did you ever think someone like her would be interested in someone like you?

it was all too much on your mental. the one time you decided to open up your heart to love, you chose to fall for the most unattainable person in Dahomey.

but maybe you always knew.

that it wouldn’t work out between you two.

it was a thought that would run through your head constantly but you buried it in the back of your mind because you had hope.

Izogie had a way of making everything seem like it was possible to achieve and for once, you dared to believe.

because when you thought of her, your heart pounded faster and harder than normal. desire ran through your veins like adrenaline. your eyes only wanted to meet hers. your ears only wanted to hear her, and your mind wanted nothing more than to feel her hands on your body and her lips on yours.

but her words were like a slap to the face.

a slap that reminded you to wake up to reality.

slowly but quickly, you backed away from the space, heading anywhere else but there.

Izogie was still braiding Nawi’s hair and they still talked amongst themselves.

a lump began to form in your throat as your tears fell.

the end.

[🫀] / so close, yet so far — extended scene.

“i will be miganon one day. you cannot have both.”

this was a painful realization that Izogie had came to a long time ago and yet, the thought of not being able to express and receive love stung her deeply.

Nawi tilts her head upwards and questions.

“will that be enough?”

Izogie’s eyes stare far off into the distance.

“it has to be.”

the younger girl furrows her eyebrows as she stares at a candlelight.

“Izogie, you cannot make me believe that you have completely closed your heart off to love.”

“and why is that?”

“i’ve seen the way you avoid her.”

the soon to be commander freezes, her shoulders immediately tense.

the one thing she had so desperately wished to keep to herself was not only known by another, it was just thrown into the wind without caution.

Izogie found herself holding her breath.

she continues braiding, eyes on Nawi’s scalp.

“i don’t know who or what you’re talking about.”

Nawi’s head shoots up, annoying her even more.

“the trainee who lost the final test. aren’t you in lov-.”

Izogie’s jaw clenches as she looks into Nawi’s eyes.

“tsetse, i want you to choose your next words very wisely.”

Nawi slowly lowers her head and they continue on her hair. They sit in silence for a while before the younger speaks again.

“why do you hide and deny your feelings for her? is it not tiring?”

Izogie straightens her posture, shoulders more wide.

“you’re buzzing around again. i have no feelings for the girl you speak of.”

“then why do you not acknowledge her? at first, i thought she had offended you but..”

“but what?”

Nawi thinks hard about what to say.

“your actions have another meaning to them.”

Izogie looks at Nawi for a while.

“explain.”

“remember when we used to run for miles as part of our training?”

“what does that have to do with anything?”

“you always punished the last five people by having them run an extra mile but you never did that with her. she always came last but you yelled at her so much about her poor performance then sent her off.”

“her performance was poor.”

“you wanted her to rest, didn’t you?”

Izogie stops braiding.

“i remember wondering why you were always so upset with her specifically but you were putting on a show, right?”

Nawi looks up at her and continues.

“yelling and kicking her out was the only way you could keep her from training without the others thinking you had a favorite.”

Izogie says nothing for a while. no witty remarks, or sarcastic comments. she only looks at Nawi.

“go on.”

“hmm?”

“what else have you noticed, tsetse?”

Nawi fully sits up in her seat, the side of her hair still unbraided but long forgotten.

“the day of the final test.”

Izogie’s tongue pokes the inside of her mouth as she scoffs.

“after the announcement was made and you were talking to Nanisca and Amenza, your face showed something i had never seen before.”

“what?”

“fear.”

the conversation was now getting too personal and Izogie wanted to put a stop to it. the feeling of vulnerability was spreading through her and it was making her sick. she wanted to tell Nawi to never speak of this to another soul. she needed a swig of whiskey, but the younger was still talking.

“i remember her coming up to me the next day, thanking me. she was beyond grateful to me and i didn’t know why. King Ghezo had called a private meeting to discuss her situation but you, Nanisca and Amenza wouldn’t allow me to enter.”

Izogie averts her gaze. suddenly, the orange hue of the palace grounds were more interesting to look at.

“you begged them to let her stay, right?”

Izogie says nothing, eyes still.

“they would’ve kicked her out without question but you must’ve advocated for her. you’re one of our best fighters and next in line to be commander. the king would’ve listened to you.”

the older still says nothing and Nawi gets worried.

“I’m sorry. i hope i have not overstepped my boundaries.”

a half-hearted smile forms on Izogie’s face as she looks back to Nawi.

“you’re really not that dumb.”

Nawi’s eyes widens. “you’re not denying it anymore. you’re in love with her, aren’t you?”

a small laugh bubbles from Izogie’s chest as she saw the excitement on her fellow sister’s face.

“you want to know why i avoid her?”

Nawi nods her head eagerly, all ears.

“she’s a reminder of what i cannot have.”

a look of confusion spread across Nawi’s face.

“what do you mean?”

Izogie stares at the dying flame from a candle.

“ever since i joined the king’s guard, becoming general has been my number one goal. every time i look at her, i lose sight of that goal and i cannot have any distractions. not after how hard i’ve worked to get here.”

Nawi sits closer.

“Izogie, she’s not a distraction. you forget about becoming commander when you look at her because love is what your heart yearns for. we fight everyday for ourselves and for our people, but we also need more than the fighting. don’t shut her out.”

Izogie sighs.

“do you think i do not want love? i want it more than anything but i cannot lead the agojie well if i still have feelings for her.”

“why not?”

“because i cannot have peace of mind when we have to step into a battlefield. i will worry about her more than the rest of you and that is not fair. when she struggles in training, i cannot have the heart to punish her or make her continue and that is not fair. when i think i may never see her again, i cannot have the strength to part ways and i—.”

Izogie pauses, her face contorting into that of pain.

Nawi is stunned, as if she herself had just came to a realization.

“you think she would be your only weakness as a leader.”

Izogie swallows hardly, blinking away the tears that pool around her eyes.

“now you understand, tsetse. i will be miganon one day. she’s the reason i cannot have both.”

there are nawt enough stories and imagines reflecting how much I would let tenoch destroy my throat. just a ridiculously beautiful and charming man, but crumbs on here. crumbs!!!!! I hope for the second week of bp:wk out there are more

shameless

pairing: namor x (f)reader

word count: 548

warnings: eighteen+ content, m receiving oral, mentions and implications of past sexual encounters, deep throating on the beach basically, poetic af, no spoilers but let’s pretend that certain things didn’t happen and this makes sense, a bit of dirty talk, a touch of forbidden relationship, reader is from wakanda.

note: here’s a crumb from a whore who is also scouring every part of the internet for more content of this man!!!

The beach is quiet at night. The calm movements of the waves mingling with the hum of insects in the trees make for a peaceful symphony, that even the most lonesome hearted could feel serenity from.

It’s why you found yourself down here when you couldn’t sleep. Sand between your toes, your weight sinking into it like a welcome abyss. The sounds of the ocean, of nature, bringing a peace of mind to your ever racing thoughts on most nights.

You liked the alone time.

Liked to be left with only you and the water. As if it washed away every mental ailment that stung you that day, that week—month. A refreshing breath of air.

A ritual that morphed itself into something forbidden when he began showing up.

Your alone time turning into something shared with someone you should have turned your back to. Should have made your way back up the sand the first night he appeared out of the water.

Anger. Fear. Anything other than acceptance should have soiled your once peaceful time. Should have kept you from returning every night.

Not being the reason why you kept returning.

That anger and fear never showing up, when he always did.

You wondered if he waited for you. Every night. To see your silhouette darken the shore as he waited just below the surface.

Like a predator waiting for its prey.

You should hate him.

Hating him was easier than whatever these meetings turned into.

Going from something innocent, a way to not be alone, water and oil meeting and trying to learn to be one; to something you should feel ashamed over.

The quiet of the beach now tainted, soiled, with sounds of mouths pressed together, moans, skin on skin.

Just as the anger and fear never showed neither did the shame. You knew if you dug deep enough there might be hatred and guilt aimed at yourself—where it should be aimed at him.

Both unfair when you really thought about it. Unfair for you to feel hatred when its route cause felt so good.

Unfair for you to aim hatred at him when there had been no forcing, no convincing, no manipulation to get you like this. To start this. To continue it.

You had other things to hate him for. But this was not one of them.

Even after that first night when he had left your bottom covered in sand, thighs soaked from your arousal and his mouth; guilt and hatred were washed away with his tongue, like the waves he disappeared in.

That’s why it’s no surprise the only thing you feel right now as tiny stones in the sand dig into your knees, throat feeling raw, jaw aching, deep groans sounding from above you—is pleasure.

The peace of the night ruined by wet sputters.

“What would your queen say if she saw you like this?” Namor’s tone is rough and lust riddled. Hips snapping forward as his fingers dig into the back of your skull, as he keeps your mouth attached to his cock, as he uses your mouth, your tongue—your throat—as nothing more than something to conquer, claim. There’s a smirk on his lips when you look up at him, as drool runs down your chin. “Shameless. Perfect,” he grunts.

I wanna f@ck a priest

rihanna attends nba all-star weekend (02/14/15)

My Life as the Perfect Wife

I was raised on a farm, learning from my mother and grandmother how to cook, bake, garden, clean, sew, sing, dance, play the piano, write in beautiful cursive, decorate a home, care for a man, raise children, dress in a modest but always stylish and attractive way, with delicately feminine lingerie always underneath my dress, grow my hair long, down to my waist, and wear it swept up in a bun or in a thick, heavy braid, never leave the house without heels and lipstick and a handbag, and keep my figure fit and sensuously supple (as full breasts, slim waists, wide, child-bearing hips, and big round butts run in the family).

I met my husband, my master, my life, my love, when I was nineteen years old. I left school to marry him, after a heady year of courtship, and became his virgin bride. He bought us a lovely little farmhouse in the PNW, and ever since he carried me across the threshold, I’ve never wanted to be anywhere else. I keep the house immaculate for him, and wait by the door with his favorite drink on a little tray for when he comes home. I’m always wearing a beautiful dress, my hair beautifully styled, with a little bit of makeup (as he loves my full lips to be a lusciously dark shade of red). In the air, there’s the smell of a delicious dinner done and ready to serve in the dining room, but only after he’s had a chance to rest a little bit in his favorite chair, enjoying his drink and, often enough, enjoying me.

Of course, I got pregnant almost immediately after our idyllic wedding. And I’ve so loved every moment of my pregnancies, the way my fertile body blossoms into true womanhood, my breasts growing fuller, my hips wider, my butt bigger and rounder. Other than being a very fertile wife to my ever virile husband, there’s been nothing more fulfilling to me than being a mother. For the first decade of our marriage I was almost always pregnant, although I never let it keep me from my wifely duties around the house and to my husband. The children, five in all, three rambunctious boys and two sweet girls, were raised with great love and care, but always my responsibility and never, save for doling out the occasional punishment, something that burdened, distracted, or dazed my husband.

He wakes each morning, often by my lips around his hot, hard manhood, to find I’d already been up and set out his clothes, cleaned and pressed, and prepared a deliciously nutritious breakfast. Sometimes, if we’re alone in the kitchen, he approaches me from behind, as I wash the dishes, grasping my hips, pushing himself lustfully against my shapely bottom, his mere touch enough to make my body quiver in pleasure, and then he takes me right there, so hard and intensely passionate, my skirt pulled up over my hips, my body bent over the sink, my breasts heaving with each thrust, my hair slipping from its well-kept bun and falling about my face and shoulders. Afterward I walk stiff and slightly dazed upstairs to change my panties, his always copious seed leaking out of me and running along the smooth skin of my inner thigh.

Each night I wait for him in our bedroom, my body wrapped in daring lingerie or one of my many gorgeous nighties, nightgowns, peignoirs, chemises, negligees, teddies, basques, or babydolls. Oh, that wicked glint in his eyes, when he enters our bedroom, his usually proper, elegant, and generally modest wife now looking so brazenly sexual, so wantonly aroused, so ready to be claimed and taken however he so chooses, as is his right.

I simply love his every touch, his scent, his strength, and that ineluctable feeling of his manhood so deep inside me, throbbing, pulsing, ready to seed my ripe, fertile womb. Even as we grow older, there’s not a day that doesn’t end without such bliss.

He is my husband, my man, my everything. And I am his perfect wife.