Task Force Be Like:

kyle who very early on realizes that you can't fall asleep to silence, putting the pieces together that first time you walked him through your setup on a late night call. he doesn't mention anything, lets you play it off as this ritual you've put in place, picking a movie to put on every night for weeks on end. he says nothing, only keeps track of how often you change movies, unsurprised that it was an early marvel film that kept you the longest. he hasn't spent the night yet and he knows the exact volume and brightness settings you pick for bedtime. he just waits and listens, matching your pace.

and after months of bedtime calls and snuck-in goodnight messages, kyle is rewarded with a gift, one he recognizes in its entirety. you ask him what you should put on.

a couple of weeks prior, you mentioned the light coming from the tv starting to keep you up, so the timing is perfect

what about a bedtime story?

your knee jerk reaction is to laugh, less at the suggestion and more at the words. that's such a silly thing isn't it? it's something a kid does, something a kid needs. and you don't.

you like my voice, you fall asleep on calls with me all the time

you can't even try to deny that, you know you've both kept score and it doesn't add up in your favor. okay, fine, you'll bite. but what if he doesn't have something to read from? what would it even be about?

do you trust me?

you do. you do.

you're nervous that first night, going through all of the motions of settling while on the phone with him. part of you worries that he'll realize that this is silly and he'll back out. which would be fine, you tell yourself. if it doesn't work, it doesn't work. the remaining part of you is scared it will.

the only light left in the room is the glow from your phone when he starts. his tone is low and deep, a slow steadiness you hear most often when you're in his arms. you don't focus on the words, just the sound of his voice, closing your eyes because when you do, you can almost feel the warmth of his body next to yours. slowly, you relax, softening into the bedding, pillows cocooning you all around. you remember hearing a smile in his voice as your breathing evens out.

the next morning comes in a flash and you find yourself in the exact same position you fell asleep in. you scramble to turn your phone, afraid he's disappeared. but there's a text already waiting for you.

sleep well?

he'd be entirely too proud of himself if he could see the smile on your face, but you can't bring yourself to lowball him. better than you can last remember, you tell him.

good. i have another picked out for tonight

a single night is all it takes for kyle to become your nightly ritual.

as your nightly calls grow longer, you're no longer sure quite when they end. fuck, you can't even keep track of the narrative. he could be telling you the same story over and over and you wouldn't even know. you fall asleep too fast to catch any of the details. and still he calls, every night he can

he even records himself for the nights he can't call, sending you a different story every time he has to leave. that way you both know he's still with you, and he knows you're sleeping well.

can’t go into a fitting room with simon, not because you fear the possibility of being fucked in public but because he’ll do everything else while you’re trying on the clothes (showing you to the mirror, murmuring litanies of “look a’ ‘ow pretty you are, pup.” and “can’t believe i’ve got you all to myself.” while sliding his hand up the dress to cup your cunt through your underwear and thumbing at your clothed nipples)

will buy all the dresses you’ve tried on because he’s already imagined how it’d look hiked up your torso and how he’ll untie the strings at the back. teases you at the shops so you’re all ready for him when you two get home with pawing hands and sticky panties.

moodboard

I need a part 2 to this 😍

Toxic!Erik x Black!Reader

Warnings: Cheating, Smut, Language

Draft Four

Because this is a draft, there may or may not be a second part.

“So that’s it?!” You yell. “You cheat on me and now you’re mad at me?! What the fuck is wrong with you?!” You were angry. You were hurt. 2 years wasted on a man who spent half that time cheating on you.

“I’m done explaining myself to you. We moved past all this shit—“

“No we didn’t! You hid it from me and it’s finally coming to light, Bakari! I’m not stay in this relationship with someone who doesn’t value me”

“You don’t think I value you?!”

“Get the fuck out of my apartment” you had enough.

“Our apartment. You forgot my name is on the lease too”

“Bye, Bakari” You open the front door, waiting for him to leave.

“Whatever. The sex was wack anyways and you can’t cook” he grabs his two duffel bags and walks out.

“That’s not what your daddy says!” you slam the door in his face.

The man you thought you would spend the rest of your life with had finally shown his true colors. You were both nearing 30 and the last thing you wanted was having your time wasted and heart broken. Honestly, with the environment Bakari grew up in, you weren’t surprised by his childish behavior.

That night, you sat in front of the tv watching your shows, crying, and on your second bottle of wine. There was a sudden loud knocking on the door that made you freeze. You mute the tv, but the knocking continues. You grab a knife from the kitchen and tiptoe to the door.

“It’s Erik” it was Bakaris dad. You open the door and see Erik standing there. You met his dad three times in the two years you’ve dated. He said his dad wasn’t the best father figure. In and out of prison most of his life. It wasn’t until Bakari graduated high school that they really worked on their relationship and with you being out the picture, Bakari was moving back in with his dad.

“Hi, Mr. Stevens” you stand there awkwardly in tiny shorts and a cropped t-shirt. You weren't expecting company and he didn't seem like he wanted to wait.

“Hi. I’m here to pick up Bakaris things”

“They aren’t packed up” you step aside so he can come inside.

“It’s fine. Do you have boxes and tape?” He looked like he had just gotten off work. He was covered in paint from head to toe.

“Yes. Follow me” you lead him to the bedroom where most of Bakaris things were. “They’re in this closet and these drawers. Then his game room in the room next door. He has some stuff in the bathroom too. I can help you”

“I got it. I should be out of here in about an hour. Is that cool?” He finally looks at you. Like really looks at you.

“Y-yeah. Take your time. If you need anything, let me know”

“Water and Tylenol?”

“I’ll be right back” you smile.

I’m willing to work this out if you are - Bakari

You were furious with Bakari. The gaslighting and disrespect wasn’t something you would tolerate. What world was he living in that he thought you would still want to be with him after finding text messages in his phone to other women?!

You ignored his text and grabbed the Tylenol from the bathroom and a bottle of water. Erik was grateful for you. Work was a killer and his head hurt.

“Are you sure you don’t need help?” You ask again.

“I’ll take it if you’re offering it”

You bite down on your bottom lip and turn away from him.

“I’ll go through the closet since you’re doing the drawers”

“Okay” he watched you walk away.

Regret.

You shouldn’t have agreed to this if you planned on being this awkward. Erik was just existing in your world. He was an existing 46 year old man. A fine ass man. The grey in his hair and beard aged him well. He looked exactly like Bakari but with more life experience. His hands caught your attention when you watched him pack a box. Strong. Rough. Working hands. Bakari didn’t have that.

His voice was also deeper. Raspy almost like a smoker but sexier. His skin was a deep milk chocolate color covered in white paint. His work boots reminded you of Mr. Marcus. You wondered if he ever fucked a woman wearing those boots. That would be sexy.

“YN” he called out to you. You felt compelled to respond immediately.

“Yes?” You step out of the closet. Your voice was small.

“I know I don’t know you like that but on behalf of Bakari, I want to apologize to you. He told me why y’all broke up. I didn’t raise him that way. I know I wasn’t always the best example of a father to him but I tried my best. Now on behalf of me, fuck that nigga. He’s dumb. Why would he fuck up something like this? A loyal woman. That boy confuses me sometimes” he shakes his head.

You wanted to cry from his sweet words. At least there was some agreement on Bakari being a dumbass.

“Thank you, Mr. Stevens. That really means a lot coming from you. I wish Bakari thought the same way”

“The best way to get back at him would be to fuck his best friend. Make him cry the way he made you cry”

“You’re petty” you laugh. “You must have experience?”

“Plenty” his tongue glides across his bottom lip and he goes back to packing.

“Who’s his best friend?” you were mainly curious to know if they were more attractive than Bakari.

Erik looks up at you, taking notice of your legs. He stops throwing things into the box and gives you his full attention.

“Me”

You felt light headed. There was no way this man was flirting with you. Not Bakaris twin being his best friend and them both being fine.

“Oh…”

“Why you acting so surprised?”

“You’re saying you want to fuck me… I-I’m your sons ex”

“Don’t stand there pretending like your pussy’s not wet from me being in here with you. I could tell you wanted to fuck the moment you brought me back here. The way your hips switch and that ass moves. You keep staring at me and talking in that shy ass voice”

“I’m not…”

“There it go” he stands up, his shadow covering you.

“I can’t hurt Bakari like this” you protest softly.

“Yes, you can” he backs you up against the wall.

“He’ll be devastated”

“Just like you are right now” he pulls your hair to extend your neck back.

Your panties were soaked.

“You have to promise you won’t tell him”

“You can trust me, babygirl” he kissed your neck.

“Can you fuck me against the wall? Pretty please”

Eriks dick jumped.

“Only because you asked so nicely” he pinches your hard nipples.

“I don’t have condoms” You hoped he had some.

He didn’t.

“I can pull out…" he grabs your ass, keeping his eyes on you. "Unless you don’t want me to” he licks his lips and unbuckles his work cargos. You watched his dick spring free from his boxers.

“Shit…” you weren’t even thinking, you just pull your shorts and thong off. Your thong was soaked, and you hand it to Erik. He lifts them to his nose and takes a big whiff.

“I love the smell of pussy” he growls. “Come here so I can fuck you”

“...yes, sir”

“If I fuck you, I’m not pulling out. Fuck that. I’ll leave you with a pussy full of my nut”

“I want it dripping down my legs” you were so turned on.

“Keep playing and you’ll be carrying my baby” his dick pressed into your belly. Precum staining your skin.

“You promise 🥺”

“Come here, girl” he grabs you, lifting you up and holding you against the wall. You wrap your arms around his neck and kiss his lips. He holds you with one arm and grabs his dick, rubbing his tip up and down your swollen and needy cunt.

“You ready to take this raw dick?”

“Yes” you were excited. Anticipating him inside you.

Erik eases you down onto his dick slowly. You let out a loud moan, sure your neighbors could hear you.

“Tight fucking pussy” he fucks you good and slow, hitting your G-spot with the way his dick curved.

“Just like that. Ooooo, fuck” your nails dug into his shoulders.

“You tugging on my shit, ma” Erik could feel his heart racing in his chest.

“This tight pussy is about to make you cum already” you tease.

“Hell yeah. Imma need this shit again”

“W-whenever you want it” you could feel your walls squeeze around him as you came on his dick.

“You’ll keep fucking me? Hm?”

“Yes…yes…fuck” your body bounced as he fucked you harder. His boots kept him in place as he railed into you.

“We might just have to make this an all night thing” sweat dripped from his forehead onto your shirt.

“Yes please”

The two of you moaned and groaned together as he filled you up, thrusting into you slowly to empty his balls completely inside you.

“Shit feels so fucking good, baby” he cooed in your ear.

That night, Erik made you forget all about Bakari. The way he made you feel. The orgasms he talked you through. You couldn’t believe you ever gave Bakari the time of day with his minimal efforts. But you were thankful that the breakup brought you to Erik. For now.

Your phone buzzed on the nightstand just as you were about get up to get something to drink in the middle of the night.

Can we please talk? I’m sorry for how shit went down. I love you YN. I don’t want to lose you - Bakari

You felt your heart fall into your stomach. You loved Bakari too but he would never forgive you for sleeping with his dad. You didn’t expect him too.

We can talk tomorrow Bakari. I’m laying down - YN

I’m on my way to the apartment right now to grab some things. We can talk tomorrow though - Bakari

You walk back to your bedroom in the dark when you bump into Erik.

“You scared me” you look up into his dark eyes.

“Imma head out. I have to work in a few hours and need sleep. Unfortunately I don’t see that happening here” he grabs your chin softly and kisses you.

“Okay”

“Try not to miss me too much”

“Did you know Bakari was on his way over?”

“Nah. I guess it’s a good thing I’m leaving”

“What should I say to him?”

“You’ll figure it out, baby” he kisses your forehead.

You follow him out of the apartment and watch him walk down the hallway. As you stand there, you feel his cum roll down your leg and see Bakari walking down the hall towards you.

@trapsterrr @toni9 @nubian-dreem @majesticbrownjawn @augustalsinawifey1234-blog @xsweetdellzx @ah-blossom @retrochick3500 @novaniskye @skylahb @callmemckenzieee @janelle-cx3 @circeaphoenix @btitannaaaaa @harleycativy @ladymac82 @girlsneedlovingfanfics @sourbabynaee

Ex husband!Ghost that just shows back up in your house (no matter how many times you've moved without saying a word) anytime he's on leave.

"what the fuck are you doing here?" (18+)

he's standing outside your new flat. he's still wearing his gear and that god-awful mask that you hate so much. if his eyes could change color, they would be red—they're dark with something foul, something that is your fault, but you have no obligation to this man anymore.

that doesn't seem to register with him.

this is the fourth new flat you've moved into within the last year. you keep signing very short leases, picking up and leaving again, but he finds you—every time. he must have sewn a tracker into one of your things; maybe a beloved purse of yours or inside some valued heirloom that he knows you'd never part with. he's such a sick bastard, you don't know what you ever saw in him, you don't know what ever made you feel like you could stand in front of him and God and make factitious vows about a future that never would be.

he's disgusting. he smells like the desert, and his boots are caked with mud. his clothes smell like they've been worn for days, coated with dried sweat and grime, and he reeks like the cigarettes you see peeking out from his jacket pocket. he walks into your flat anyways, not bothering to take anything off, and he sits himself down on your couch and spreads his legs like he's been here before, numerous times, like this is where he lives.

you threw away all his things. you burned the papers that remained. you tossed the rest of his shit that didn't fit in trash bags out the window of the last place you lived, so why the fuck is he in your flat, and why does he seem so fine with it?

"get your dirty ass off my couch, and get out."

ghost is like a fixture there. he picks his head up from where it was laying against the cushions, and he glares at you as he lays his palms against his thighs. he clicks his tongue, sucking on his teeth, and he just stares at you.

the audacity.

but you can't help it. when he thinks you're not looking, he looks at that photo in his wallet—the one with people who aren't here anymore, the worn, scratchy picture that's fading with age and use, and you get that pit in your stomach all over again, the same one you got when you served him the papers for the first time.

ghost is all alone.

he's all alone.

that's why he's at your table. eating your food. that's why he's in your bathroom, having a hot shower, that's why his clothes are in your washing machine (the only ones he owns anymore), and that's why he's laying in your bed, on his side, masked face against a silk pillow as he pumps his cock lazily.

he has no shame. he groans audibly, he says your name, and he hums with delight when you shriek with anger at his cum on your fresh cotton sheets.

but he's all alone.

it feels like way when you hike your sleep shirt up and sit down on him. it feels that way when he pushes you to sit up on his lap, chin against his chest so he can watch your hips shift and your tits bounce as you hold it up with your teeth and whine. it feels like he's lonely when he thumbs at your clit and comes too fast, making a mess between your thighs as his thick cum coats his unkempt hair.

when you try to pull off, he digs his thick fingers into your ass and holds you there.

he's lonely. so he's not done yet.

it's a nasty sight. ghost keeps you there, fixed on his cock, and even when you whimper from overstimulation, he holds you down and tugs at your pebbled nipples as he mumbles about how warm it is here. ghost can't waste another minute, especially not with his name attached to you anymore—he needs to make every orgasm count, so he doesn't have time to hear you whine, he needs to keep you there, and he needs to keep you fat and pleasured and sticky.

he likes missionary the most. he likes feeling your thighs tense up around his hips, and he likes being able to pin you down and keep you underneath him. but most of all, he likes pressing against your tummy, and he likes closing his eyes and grunting, feeling the tip of his cock just underneath his palm. it gives him a sick sense of satisfaction knowing he's so deep inside of you, branding you like he knows only he can. there's a shape inside of your cunt that he fills better than anyone else, and your wobbly legs and curled toes and open-mouth moans only encourage his disgusting sense of ownership.

you can sign whatever fucking papers you want to sign, he's carved his name in your pussy, and that's for life.

You can only reblog this today or until the next Monday, June 19th, 2028.

The US and UK are now bombing Yemen because the country had the courage to fight for Palestine and stop the genocide by targeting the ships on the sea that provides weapons to Israel. The cruelty of the US is immeasurably evil and petty because this is also the same empire that backed the UAE/KSA coalition that bombarded Yemen and starved the people forcing the children to suffer from malnutrition for years and now decides to bomb the same country again so Israel can continue unabated in committing genocide and ethnic cleansing.

sigh my kink list gets longer every day i open this app