#yellowjackets au

[eloaheufrasio]

Yellowjackets BAND AU

[pikmin2828]

Obsessive!Nat x reader

Summary: Collection of headcannons that I made about obsessive!natalie, pre and post crash! If anyone wants one for a no crash au or a post rescue, lmk

Tags: Bewarned. Gunplay, period sex, underage weed usage, underage smoking (nic), cannibalism, fingering, strap ons, bloodplay, oral, strictly bottom reader (for now), one or two mentions of hair pulling, one or two mentions of the strap as cock, shrooms, doom shrooms, sex under the influence (thanks misty), slight body worship/ worship in general, bitchy nat at first, trauma dumping, Natalie "Something Catholic" Scatorccio mentioned, implied masturbation, freaky shit.

Obsessive!Nat who never lets you shower with the others after practice or a game. No one gets to see you naked but her. 

Obsessive!Nat who was the biggest play girl before she met you, mostly only getting with people for drugs and only going further when she was fucked up.

Obsessive!Nat who couldn’t help but hate you a little bit when you first joined the team. Everyone else had to build their way up from freshman year but here you are junior year, not only immediately making varsity but you played for her position as well. Such a fucking bitch.

Obsessive!Nat who hates you even more when she’s benched for a sprained ankle even though you were the one who checked up on her the most and helped her with work she missed. She didn’t know why you bothered to bring homework to her trailer, she was already a white trash burnout anyway.

Obsessive!Nat who pretends to be stupid in an attempt to push you away. It doesn’t work and that confuses her more than anything. 

Obsessive!Nat who’s actually really intelligent, just doesn’t have the motivation to try anymore. 

Obsessive!Nat who blows smoke in your face when you’re in her room, trying to repeat what you learned in trig that day. She loves the way you wrench your head back and curse her out. 

Obsessive!Nat who lets you hit her cigarette out her window, watching you cough and clutch your chest from the burn. 

Obsessive!Nat who starts to learn better with you to the point she doesn't even do anything in class; just sits there, bouncing her knee and waiting for class to be over so she can go on break with you and you can teach her. 

Obsessive!Nat who transfers into all your classes after seeing the toll of the stress that balancing soccer, tutoring her and completing your own work is taking on you. 

Obsessive!Nat who defends you with her life when Jakcie’s teasing you or Tai’s talking about how you hog the ball. She hates you but hearing the others spread lies like you weren’t attractive or keeping the ball because you knew what to do and were an awesome player.

“Come on, Nat, you know we’re right,” Jackie scoffed, shoving her shoulder. “Why do you care anyway, you hate that bitch.” Natalie looked over at you from across the changing room where you were folding your clothes and placing them in your locker as you got ready for the game. 

“She’s not all bad,” she mumbled under her breath, refusing to look the others in the eye. “She brought me my trig work for whatever fucking reason when I was out,” she ran a hand through her hair. “and you know why she has the ball Tai; if she wasn’t good enough Coach would make sure she knew.”

Obsessive!Nat who makes sure you keep that ball the entire game and steadily works her way in through the group hug each time you score until she’s on you first, no matter if she’s across the field. 

Obsessive!Nat who knows your heart is in it and that’s why she’s getting sidelined. It wasn’t like she didn’t have the talent or the passion but you had both whereas she was burning up after pouring all her time into soccer for years. You know what they say, the stars that burn the brightest burn out first.

Obsessive!Nat who gives you long looks in the locker room, her expression unreadable and her eyes empty. 

Obsessive!Nat who wants to hate you so much, it would make her life so much easier. But you smile at her in the halls, help her with work, bring her water after drills…and she just can’t do it. 

Obsessive!Nat who you get used to hugging, touching, high fiving, whatever after goals. She slapped your ass once after a group huddle and you gave her a look that said she was immature but also maybe kinda hot. 

Obsessive!Nat who you start to hangout with outside of practice and the occasional study session. They weren’t dates but you did pick her up at seven on wednesdays or fridays and she did buy you dinner and you did watch movies after, so…

Obsessive!Nat who plays footsie with you at your private dinners or at postgame parties with the team. She’ll slide her foot up your ankle while talking to Lottie about some crime show they both like. Something about cults, you think; it’s hard to focus when Nat’s gaze is sliding over to you every five seconds and she’s chewing her lip.

Obsessive!Nat who passes notes in class with you when she doesn’t understand something. Half the time she knows what’s going on, she just wants to stare at your handwriting.

Obsessive!Nat who keeps all your notes, especially the ones you drop in her locker with little affirmations. She imagines you whispering them in her ear when she touches herself or makes out with some guy she deemed the male version of you. 

Obsessive!Nat who keeps you on her lap during parties Jackie dragged you to, whispering in your ear about how none of the guys were getting any game. 

Obsessive!Nat who practically hisses at anyone who tries to move you from your spot with her. She blatantly calls you her girlfriend to get a guy to fuck off and you barely even react, just settle back into her further to make the lie look believable. 

Obsessive!Nat who rubs your thighs with her hands, just to have something to do. 

Obsessive!Nat who lets you sleep on her shoulder, bouncing her knee against your pussy through your shorts, just enough to keep you awake but lets you shut your eyes until someone can drive you home. 

Obsessive!Nat who lights up when you offer to touch up her roots for her before the state championship, she needs to have them perfect and you’re more than happy to help her. 

Obsessive!Nat who lays on you during sleepovers, toeing the line between playing with your boobs through your shirt and just being a little too friendly. 

Obsessive!Nat who has a couple polaroids of you that you don’t know about. A girl has to get off somehow and Nat doesn’t know any pretty girls who treat her like you do. :( 

Obsessive!Nat who lets the tension snap after the state tournament, shoving you up against a locker when everyone else had left. You tried to keep up with her as she kissed you fervently, her tongue sliding down your throat so you tasted nothing but her.  

Obsessive!Nat who nearly rips your shirt trying to get it over your head. You were wearing her favorite sports bra of yours.

Obsessive!Nat who wants to fuck you in the locker room so badly but she hears the lock to the room click and has to drag you into a stall.

Obsessive!Nat who kisses and licks at your neck while you’re pressed up against the bathroom stall and helps you cover your moans with her hand over the one of yours that was on your mouth. 

Obsessive!Nat who giggles with you when she pulls back like she didn’t just alter your brain chemistry. 

Obsessive!Nat who spends her last night in Wiskayok getting high with you. At first she’s hesitant to let you even look at a blunt but after you tell her you want to try it and it’s not from fomo she lets you take it.

 “Holy shit!” you laugh, passing the joint back to her. “That’s strong.” Nat hums, bringing it to her lips and inhaling deeply before exhaling through her nose. Her head drops back against your pillows as her eyes trace over your body. You crawl into her lap and she raises one hand to cup your cheek. “Y’know,” you drawl, turning your face to kiss her wrist. “Our celebration got cut short the other day.” Nat snorts like you’re joking around with her until she sees the look in your eyes. “Don’t tell me you’re already gone.” She shoves your head playfully, pulling you closer to her with her hand that wasn’t holding the blunt. You shook your head, pupils blown wide from her, not her drugs. That was…new. “Uh-uh.” Her hand slides up your shirt, pressing flat on your stomach before moving higher. Sitting back on your knees, you tug your shirt off and reach back for your bra without a second thought. She sits there in awe of you, like she hasn’t seen you naked in the changing room, like she doesn’t know how perfect you were. 

Obsessive!Nat whose hand ends up in between your legs, two fingers pumping slowly and a third working your clit in careful circles. She had never been with a girl before in bed so she’s trembling half the time and thankfully she couldn’t tell that your own shuddering was from nerves. 

Obsessive!Nat who cums untouched listening to you moan her name and feeling your pussy gush all over her hand. 

Obsessive!Nat who praises you the whole time, calling you her good girl and begging to taste you. 

Obsessive!Nat who laps at your cunt until you’re muffling screams with a pillow, one hand in her hair while both of hers knead your thighs. 

Obsessive!Nat who grinds on your leg while you fall asleep, smiling at her dreamily.

Obsessive!Nat who packs her strap that she’s had for a while now but never any reason to use. Who knows, an afterparty for winning nationals was bound to be crazy. 

Post Crash

Obsessive!Nat who hallucinates you instead of her father as the plane goes down and it’s ten times more terrifying.

Obsessive!Nat who thinks you’ve died when she regains consciousness and discovers you aren’t in your seat next to her.

Obsessive!Nat who doesn’t even know how many times she begged the god she no longer believes in to either kill her or show her you were alive. 

Obsessive!Nat who narrowly escapes the fire in the plane to find you writhing on the ground, Shauna and Lottie holding you down as you screamed for her. 

Obsessive!Nat who shoves both girls out of her way to get to you and holds you closer than anything in her life, her face buried in your hair as you sob into her neck. 

“I thought you died- I thought- I thought.” Your voice keeps breaking as you hyperventilate, clutching Nat like she was bound to become a ghost. She nods vigorously, repressing her own cries as she pulls back and checks you over. The others are giving her strange looks but he doesn’t care, as long as you’re alive. Your shoulder is dislocated and she has to hold you still while Misty resets it, letting you call her as many curses as you want to make you feel better. 

Obsessive!Nat who lets you rest on her for days, barely moving unless you urge her to. 

Obsessive!Nat who helps you through the woods when getting down to the lake, squeezing your hand and looking at you gleefully when you could finally see the water. 

Obsessive!Nat who finds a little secluded area or just a spot further away from the others so she could help you wash some of the blood and dirt away. You kiss her cheeks and detangle her hair when she’s finished, humming something vaguely like Oasis in her ear. 

Obsessive!Nat who takes you hunting with her even if you can’t shoot, she is not leaving her girl alone despite the fact that she knows the others would defend you.

Obsessive!Nat who refuses to break down in front of you until it all comes to a breaking point and she just lets go. She’s curled up on your chest in the attic or the plane wreckage and telling you every horror story of her childhood, looking into your eyes and begging you to believe her when she says she didn’t kill her father. 

Obsessive!Nat who needs to spend every minute with you out in the woods, you could never tell when it would be the last. 

Obsessive!Nat who kicks Shauna and Tai out of the attic to keep it for you and her. She later begrudgingly lets Tai and Van back up during the more extreme sleep walking days but sets some ground rules when it comes to you.

Obsessive!Nat who clings to you in her sleep, whispering prayers to you into your skin like you were her queen. 

Obsessive!Nat who remembers about the strap on she had packed a few months in and swings by the plane crash to look for it. It’s still there, along with everything needed to clean it and some lube. 

Obsessive!Nat who keeps it a secret for a time, everyone is still fragile and she doesn’t want to freak you out.

Obsessive!Nat who gets more passionate when you make out, deeper, slower kisses that have you gasping and her whining against your lips, calling herself a needy bitch for you. 

Obsessive!Nat who tugs your hair and loves when you pull hers back.

Obsessive!Nat who finally eats you out for the second time in the plane, moaning like you had starved her all this time. 

Obsessive!Nat who asks to eat your pussy on your period, she hasn't brought anything home from her hunt and just wants to do something to please you. Plus, the taste of your blood could make her think she got a good kill. 

Obsessive!Nat who looks so good with your blood dripping down her chin, her eyes half lidded with lust and possession.

Obsessive!Nat who gets more into bloodplay or just tasting your blood in general. She bites your lip when you kiss or nips at your jaw and neck until your skin turns crimson. 

Obsessive!Nat who confesses about the strap during Doomcoming. You had wandered back to the cabin with her long before the shroom orgy and were making out in the attic. Moonlight paints her pale features, making her look even more angelic, despite the words coming out of her mouth. 

“Please let me fuck you with it,” she slurs, shifting her hips up into yours. You pant, lips pressed to the crown of her head and body covered in marks. “Mhm.” You nod dumbly, letting her flip you over onto your back while she fumbles with the toy she has hidden with her clothes. She helps you out of your dress, careful as she could be with her being high as a kite and tosses it over her shoulder. You nudge at the strap of her dress, pushing it down so she could shimmy out of it. Nat untangles the harness and slips it on, making you tighten it even though you don’t know what you’re doing. She puts the dildo in place as you take off your panties before she rubs a bit of lube on the tip and some on your pussy lips. 

“You’re so hot,” she mutters, running her hands up and down your torso before settling on your hips. A whine slips from you and you push your body up, trying to find friction for your poor, neglected clit. Nat leans down, pressing kisses to your skin as she drags the strap up and down your slit. “Gonna be a little stretch, m’kay?”

You nod but nothing prepares you for the feeling of her cock entering your pussy, the ache of filling you, claiming your body as hers. The others would know at some point, how you were only for her and Nat would relish in it. She’s too fucked out to thrust properly so it’s mostly her rolling her hips into yours until she bottoms out. Your mouth falls open silently and she spits into it, closing your jaw to make you swallow. 

Nat loves listening to you whimper and mewl, eyes screwed up in pleasure as you reach up to palm her tits. Her brow is slick with sweat and her hair curtains off your faces from anybody who was unfortunate enough to come upstairs. Your abdomen squeezes, the taut coil tightening further and further as she pushes deeper. With her forearms bracketing either side of your head, Nat balances herself as she tries to pull back and snap forward. She almost fell, both of you laughing way harder than you should have from the shrooms. 

Then, her fingers find your clit, finally giving into what you want. “N-nat, fuck- ah, gonna cum,” you pant, bucking into her hand desperately. She moans into your neck, fucking you harder when she sinks her teeth into you. Crying out, you claw at her back, nails dragging down and leaving marks. You can feel your skin break and Nat sucking up the blood before kissing the bitemark again. 

Her thumb draws tight circles over your nerves, adding pressure in time with her body on yours. Your cunt clenches around her strap, fluttering as she drags her hips back until just the tip was left and thrusting in. “You can do it, baby,” she breathes, keeping her eyes locked on yours. You tighten around her again before crying out, clutching at her shoulder as she kisses you to silence the noises. Nobody else should hear these sounds. 

Her strap is soaked, as is the mattress and the sheets on top of it. Nat all but collapses on top of you, pulling out and burying her face between your boobs. You come down from the high, gasping for air and placing your hand in her hair. Nat’s own palm brushes over one of your breasts, rolling your nipple between her thumb and her index. “You should get these pierced when we get back,” she proposes, not even noticing what she said. You smile sadly and nod, continuing to stroke her hair. 

If you were anywhere else, nationals, her trailer, the locker room, you would laugh, ask her if that was really the first thing she wanted to say after sex but the idea of going home just seemed so far off that you couldn’t find anything to say in response.

Obsessive!Nat who openly brags in Travis’s face about being your girl. She’s normally so closed off, but she can see that piece of shit eyeing you and needs him to know you’re off limits. 

Obsessive!Nat who huddles up with you in the winter, sharing body heat on hunts or in the cabin.

Obsessive!Nat who you trade clothes with- she loves sharing panties if possible. If you have similar cup sizes then bras too, nothing better than watching her girlfriend get dressed in her clothes. 

Obsessive!Nat who looks the other way when Shauna is going crazy over Jackie, knowing damn well she would be way worse if you died. 

Obsessive!Nat who feeds you Jackie through kisses.

Obsessive!Nat who only accepts Lottie’s blessing if it includes your blood. 

Obsessive!Nat who talks about eating you so often that the others have deemed it unsettling but you know she would never kill you! Only eat your dead body because you told her to!

Obsessive!Nat who rubs the tip of the gun over your clit when she wants good luck, her own special ritual. 

Obsessive!Nat who follows you obediently to Lottie’s prayer circle if that’s what makes you feel better. It doesn’t matter if she thinks it’s bullshit, like Tai says, happy wife, happy life. 

Obsessive!Nat who promises you she won’t end up like Shauna when you tell her you’re scared of her going crazy if you were to die.

Obsessive!Nat who you don’t even know is being hunted until you hear Travis scream at her to run. You had been upstairs, nursing Lottie back to health and Nat had made the others swear to look after you and not get you involved in the hunts for as long as possible. 

Obsessive!Nat who tells Travis the wilderness chose when they bring back Javi’s body but in her mind she can only think of how your screams echoed through the woods as you searched for her. She chose. 

Obsessive!Nat whose first rule as queen is to exempt you from all the hunting bullshit. She could not give a shit who dies as long as it isn’t you, that’s all that matters to her. 

Obsessive!Nat who curls up with you as the fire dies and tells you she loves you. 

Obsessive!Nat who promises you her body. 

Obsessive!Nat who would immediately be hysteric if she ever saw yours.

masterlist

[theyluvjulz]

summery : bored and miserable in an unhappy marriage, a frustrated housewife attempts to end her secret affair with the attractive neighborhood mechanic, only for a unexpected home repair visit to explode into a fiery, passionate encounter right in the master bedroom.

pairings : mechanic!natalie x housewife!reader

warnings : affair/infidelity, married reader, housewife/mechanic dynamic, toxic husband (mentioned), heavy oral/eating out, clit play, vaginal fingering, g!p cock, rough/hard sex, bed sex, over-stimulation, multiple orgasms, praise, lingering aftercare/spooning

The heavy silence of the house was a sound you had learned to dread. Every single morning played out in the exact same soul-crushing routine: Tom’s heavy footsteps echoing down the hallway, the harsh clatter of his coffee mug hitting the counter, and the sharp, dismissive way he spoke down to you before slamming the front door at precisely 7:00 AM.

"Did you even bother to iron this shirt properly?"

"Make sure dinner is actually hot on the table when I walk through the door at six. I don't pay for this house so I can eat lukewarm slop."

God, you hated him. In fact, you were pretty sure you hated men in general. They were loud, arrogant, and treated every room they walked into like they owned it. So, for eleven hours a day, while Tom was off at the firm pretending to be important, you filled the endless, suffocating quiet with work.

You cooked. You swept the hardwood until it practically reflected the ceiling. You dusted the baseboards. You made more food, cleaned more dishes, and folded laundry until your hands felt dry and numb. It was a monotonous, lonely cycle designed to keep you from thinking too hard about how trapped you actually were.

Until Natalie moved in next door three months ago.

She was the new neighborhood mechanic—a concept that made Tom sneer into his evening newspaper the moment he heard about it. But to you, Natalie was a thunderstorm in a neighborhood full of fake, manicured lawns.

She didn't walk around trying to fit into anyone's box. She wore greasy denim coveralls, drove a matte-black pickup truck that rumbled so loud it shook your kitchen windows, and spent her mornings out in her open garage, dark hair tied up, muscle shirts clinging to her frame as she worked on engines.

And, somehow, against every logical thought you’ve ever had, you ended up in an affair with her.

It started with a broken lawnmower you couldn't figure out how to start. Then it was a cup of iced tea on her porch. Then, one hot Tuesday afternoon while Tom was at work, it was Natalie pressing you up against her workbench, her grease-stained, calloused hands sliding up your floral sundress, driving you completely out of your mind with a fiery, desperate passion Tom had never even come close to sparking in you.

You weren't a lesbian. You couldn't be. You were a housewife. You were married to a man. You had spent your entire life believing you were straight, just caught in a miserable, loveless marriage.

At least, that’s what you kept telling yourself every time you sneaked out your back door at 1:00 PM to go spend two hours melting beneath your female neighbor.

It was 1:15 PM. Normally, you’d be across the fence right now, sitting on the edge of Natalie’s workbench, laughing at some dry joke she made while her thumb traced lazy, hot circles over the inside of your thigh.

Instead, you were sitting at your polished dining room table, staring blankly at a spotless kitchen island.

The guilt had finally caught up to you two days ago. It wasn't even guilt for Tom—he didn't deserve an ounce of your sympathy—it was the terrifying realization of what you were actually doing. You were a married woman letting another woman ruin you in the middle of the afternoon. It made your chest tight. So, you had swallowed your heart, walked over to her garage, and told her it had to stop. That you couldn't keep coming over. That it was a mistake.

Natalie hadn't yelled. She’d just wiped her grease-stained hands on a rag, looked at you with those heavy, dark eyes, and nodded once. "If that's what you want," she’d said, her voice quiet and even.

Now, the house was agonizingly silent. You had already vacuumed the entire downstairs twice. The pot roast for Tom’s 6:00 PM dinner was already simmering in the slow cooker, filling the kitchen with a rich scent that suddenly made you feel nauseous. You leaned your chin in your hand, tracing a pattern in the wood grain of the table, bored out of your mind and miserable.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

The sharp, sudden sound echoed through the foyer, breaking the silence like a dropped glass. You jumped slightly, your heart leaping straight into your throat.

Tom never came home early. Delivery drivers usually just left packages on the porch.

You slowly stood up, smoothing down the front of your pristine, pastel apron, and walked toward the front door. Through the frosted glass panel, you could see a tall, broad silhouette waiting on the porch.

When you pulled the heavy door open, your breath hitched completely.

Natalie was standing there.

She wasn't in her work coveralls today. She wore a fitted gray tank top that hugged the strong cut of her shoulders, her dark hair slightly messy, a faint smudge of black grease high up on her cheekbone. She had one hand shoved into the pocket of her worn jeans, while the other held a heavy, red steel toolbox.

She didn't wait for an invitation. Her dark eyes swept over your face, taking in your flushed cheeks and the quiet house behind you, before locking right onto yours with an intensity that made your knees turn to water.

"Your sink line," Natalie said, her voice a low, gravelly rumble that vibrated right in your chest. "Saw your husband at the gas station this morning. He mentioned the kitchen faucet was leaking and complained about how much a plumber would cost." She took a single, slow step across your threshold, forcing you to back up a pace. "Told him I’d swing by and take a look for free."

She reached out with her bare foot, kicking the front door shut behind her. The lock engaged with a heavy, final click.

"So," Nat murmured, setting the heavy toolbox down on your polished entryway floor with a dull thud. "Show me where the leak is."

You swallowed hard, your heart hammering against your ribs like a trapped bird as you nodded and led her back toward the kitchen. Every single step felt agonizingly loud. You couldn't stop your eyes from darting down to her arm, watching the way her thick, flexed biceps shifted beneath her soft tan skin as she carried the heavy steel toolbox effortlessly at her side.

Just yesterday, those same arms were pinned over your head, those same broad hands gripping your hips so tightly they left dark, delicious bruises that were currently hidden under your sundress.

"Under the sink, right?" Nat asked, her low voice snapping you out of your haze.

"Yeah," you squeaked out, quickly stepping back toward the kitchen island. "It’s... it’s the hot water pipe. It’s been dripping into a bucket."

Nat didn't say a word. She set her toolbox down with a heavy metallic clatter, crouched down, and opened the cabinet doors beneath the sink. She pulled a heavy pipe wrench from her kit and slid flat onto her back, her upper body disappearing under the dark sink while her legs sprawled out across your pristine kitchen floor.

You leaned your lower back against the opposite counter, crossing your arms to try and keep your hands from shaking, but you were completely helpless to stop where your eyes were wandering.

Her worn, dark denim jeans were stretched impossibly tight across her thighs and the firm, heavy curve of her ass as she shifted beneath the pipes. A sudden, hot flash shot straight down to your core. Your mind immediately flashed to two days ago—how it felt to have that heavy, weight pressed flush against your back, the raw power behind every thrust as she worked you over her workbench until you were sobbing her name.

Under the sink, the strain of her effort made her fitted tank top ride up just an inch, exposing the smooth, toned muscle of her core and the thick flex of her shoulder blades every time she turned the wrench. The sight of her—so unbothered, so strong, and so effortlessly attractive in the middle of your miserable, pristine kitchen—made your throat go bone dry. Your cunt gave a sudden, hard throb, slick already starting to pool in your lace underwear despite the crushing guilt you were supposed to be feeling.

"Found the problem," Nat’s muffled voice came from under the sink, the metallic clink of her wrench echoing in the small space. "Loose fitting. Easy fix if you actually know what the fuck you're doing."

She slowly slid back out from under the cabinet, her chest heaving slightly as she sat up on her knees. She wiped a stray strand of dark hair from her forehead with the back of her forearm, leaving a faint streak of grease across her brow.

She caught you staring red-handed. Her dark, heavy eyes locked right onto yours, a slow, dangerous smirk tugging at the corner of her lips as she took in your flushed face and heavy breathing.

"Liked the view, sweetheart?" Nat purred, her voice dropping into that dark, gravelly tone that always made your knees go weak.

"No!" you choked out, your cheeks burning with a sudden, wild flush of panic. "No, I wasn't—I wasn't looking at you."

Nat raised an eyebrow, staying crouched on her knees, her dark eyes glittering with amused disbelief.

"If you don't pick up your tools and leave right now, I swear I'll tell Tom," you stammered, your voice trembling as you tried to muster a stern, threatening tone. "I'll tell him you made a disgusting, inappropriate comment to me in my own home."

Natalie froze, her smirk completely vanishing. Her dark eyes widened slightly in genuine surprise, a flash of hurt and cold disbelief flickering across her features. She looked at you as if you had just struck her across the face. She had spent weeks holding you, loving you, and hearing you whisper how much you hated your husband—and now you were threatening to use him against her?

"You'd tell him?" Nat asked quietly, her low voice dropping an octave, completely stunned.

The weight of her stare was too much. Panic seized your chest, a suffocating wave of anxiety and guilt washing over you. You couldn't be near her. You couldn't look at her.

Without waiting for her to respond, you spun on your heel and bolted out of the kitchen. Your heart hammered violently in your throat as your feet pounded up the carpeted stairs, running straight into the master bedroom you shared with Tom.

You slammed the heavy wooden door shut behind you, twisting the lock with a frantic, trembling click. You leaned your back flat against the door, your chest heaving as you slid down to the floor, wrapping your arms around your knees in the quiet, sterile bedroom.

You sat there on the floor for what felt like an eternity, the heavy silence of the second floor pressing in on you. Slowly, you forced yourself up, your knees shaking as you crossed the room and sat on the edge of the large mattress you shared with Tom. You buried your face in your hands, taking ragged, uneven breaths as the quiet house suddenly felt ten times bigger and colder.

Click.

The lock on the bedroom door disengaged with a faint, effortless turn. You raised your head, your heart dropping straight into your stomach as the door slowly swung open.

Natalie was standing in the doorway. She held a thin metal pick in her hand—the kind she used for lock rings in her shop—before sliding it casually into her back pocket. She stood there, tall and broad, her dark eyes filled with a heavy, raw mixture of regret and quiet intensity.

She stepped inside, shutting the door behind her with a soft click.

"I'm sorry," Nat said softly, her gravelly voice completely stripped of its usual cocky edge. She walked across the hardwood, stopping right in front of where you sat on the edge of the bed. She looked down at you, her expression vulnerable. "I shouldn't have teased you like that. I shouldn't have pushed. I just... I missed you so fucking much today."

Looking up at her—at the faint streak of grease on her forehead, her chest rising and falling, those broad hands that had held you through your darkest afternoons—the last of your defenses completely shattered. You hated this house. You hated your marriage. But sitting right here in front of you was the only person who made you feel alive.

Without saying a word, you reached up, grabbing the front of her gray tank top, and pulled her down to you.

You locked your lips onto hers in a deep, desperate kiss.

Nat let out a soft, surprised gasp against your mouth before her hands immediately slammed onto your waist, pulling your body off the edge of the mattress and flushing your front straight against hers. The kiss was hot, messy, and frantic, all the built-up tension and guilt from the last forty-eight hours dissolving the second her tongue slid past your lips.

You broke the kiss for a split second, gasping for air, your hands sliding up her strong shoulders to cup her jaw.

"Screw the sink," you whispered breathlessly, your eyes wide and dark as you looked up into hers. "Fuck me, Nat. Right here. On his bed."

Natalie’s dark eyes turned pitch black at your words. A low, dangerous growl rumbled in her chest as her hands tightened on your waist, lifting you up slightly before shoving you backward onto the high mattress.

You landed hard against the pristine white comforter you spent every morning carefully smoothing out. Before you could even catch your breath, Nat crawled onto the bed after you, her heavy, powerful frame hovering over yours. She grabbed the hem of your pastel sundress and dragged it up over your stomach, bunched it past your chest, and tossed your lace underwear across the room where it hit Tom’s bedside table with a soft thud.

"You're driving me fucking crazy," Nat growled, her breath hot against your inner thigh as she forced your legs wide open.

She didn't waste another second. Nat dropped her head between your knees, her large, warm hands wrapping around the back of your thighs to hold you completely still.

The moment her hot tongue dragged up your drenched slit, your head snapped back into the pillows, a loud, shattered scream ripping from your throat. She started right at the bottom, licking a thick, slow line of slick all the way up to your hyper-sensitive clit, where her lips clamped down with a firm, sucking pressure that made your hips instantly vault off the mattress.

"Nat—god, Nat!" you sobbed out, your fingers tangling frantically into her dark, messy hair.

Nat didn't ease up for a single breath. She buried her face in your drenched heat, her tongue working you with a heavy, flat-paddled rhythm that drove you straight over the edge. She drank you in, making loud, filthy, wet swallowing sounds as she ate you out right in the middle of your husband's bed.

She thrust two thick, calloused fingers deep inside you, stretching you open and establishing a fast, relentless curling motion that hit your internal sweet spot with every single flick. At the same time, her lips locked tight around your swollen clit, her tongue swirling around the throbbing nub in fast, precise, agonizing circles.

Slurp. Slurp. Slurp.

The wet, frantic sounds filled the quiet master bedroom. Every flick of her tongue sent a blinding electric jolt straight up your spine. You rolled your head side to side on the pillow, crying out as your thighs shook violently against her cheeks, but Nat held you pinned down with an iron grip, forcing you to take every second of it.

"Look at how wet you are for me," Nat purred against your wet folds, her voice thick and muffled, her fingers pumping into you even faster, driving deeper into your tight heat. "You're soaking my face with his ring on your finger. Tell me who this cunt belongs to."

"Yours! It's yours, Nat, please!" you screamed, your hips bucking helplessly into her face as the pressure in your lower stomach built into an unbearable, explosive peak. "I'm gonna cum—I'm coming!"

"Cum for me, sweetheart," Nat commanded growling right into your center, her tongue flicking frantically over your clit as her fingers shoved in to the hilt one last time. "Drench my mouth."

The command shattered you completely. Your internal walls violently clamped down around her fingers, spasming in intense, uncontrollable waves as a deafening shriek tore from your lungs. Your climax crashed over you like a tidal wave, hot fluids pouring out of you directly into her mouth.

Nat swallowed every single drop, keeping her lips locked tight around your clit, sucking heavily through the peak of your orgasm and licking every last inch of your wetness clean while your entire body shook helplessly on the bed.

Nat lifted her head from between your thighs, her lips glistening wet with your slick and a dark, primal hunger burning in her eyes. Without giving you a single second to recover from the intense climax still pulsing through your lower body, she shoved herself up onto her knees between your sprawling legs.

She unbuckled her leather belt with a sharp, metallic snap, shoving her jeans down past her hips. Her cock sprang free, thick, heavy, and throbbing, already slick with pre-cum at the wide tip. The contrast of her female form with that impressive, heavy length was intoxicating, sending another sharp throb straight down to your core.

"You like being fucked in his bed?" Nat growled, her voice a low, gravelly rumble as she grabbed her length in one hand, alignment the wet head right against your swollen, hyper-sensitive entrance.

Before you could even form a response, Nat shoved her hips forward, burying her thick cock all the way inside you in one heavy, uninterrupted drive.

"Ah—god!" you screamed into the quiet bedroom, your toes curling as her thick shaft stretched your drenched walls to their absolute limit.

Nat didn't wait for you to adjust. She locked her large hands around your thighs, lifting your hips slightly off the mattress, and began pounding into you with a brutal, relentless pace.

SLAP. SLAP. SLAP.

The loud, wet sound of her hips slamming hard against your rear echoed through the room. The headboard beat rhythmically against the wall with every punishing thrust, shaking the picture frames on Tom's nightstand. She drove her heavy cock into you deep and hard, bottoming out against your sweet spot over and over until your vision went completely blurry with pleasure.

"Nat—oh fuck, Nat, it's too deep!" you whimpered, your fingers digging into the pristine white sheets as every heavy stroke sent shockwaves right up your spine.

"Not deep enough," Nat growled back, her dark hair falling into her face, sweat glistening on her broad shoulders as she picked up the pace, her cock sliding in and out of your wet cunt with loud, filthy squelching sounds. "You're taking every fucking inch of me right where he sleeps."

The force of her final, punishing thrusts drove you right over the edge again, a second shattered scream escaping your lips as your internal walls clamped down like a vise around her thick length. Nat let out a low, guttural growl, burying her cock to the hilt and holding herself deep inside you as her own climax hit, her entire frame trembling against yours until you both collapsed onto the mattress.

Slowly, Nat slid her slick length out of your drenched center and pulled you back against her chest, wrapping her strong, warm arms around your waist as she pulled the heavy comforter over your shivering bodies. Her front was flushed flush against your back, her breath warm and steady against the nape of your neck as she spooned you in the quiet bedroom.

For a long time, the only sound in the room was the steady, heavy rise and fall of your breathing.

Nat shifted slightly, her nose burying into your hair before her low, gravelly voice broke the silence. "Hey," she murmured softly, her fingers gently tracing soft, lingering circles over your bare hip. "Answer me truthfully... do you really actually like Tom?"

You closed your eyes, letting out a long, quiet breath as you leaned back into her heat.

"No," you whispered into the soft stillness of the room, feeling lighter than you had in years. "I don't."

Nat pressed a tender kiss to your shoulder, tightening her grip around you as you both drifted into the quiet warmth of the afternoon..

[sapphicxsaints]

lottielee valentine’s date au ➳❥ ꨄ︎

[uhhhh-em-draws-stuff]

I present: my Jackieshauna, Taivan and Lottienat workers x members at a country club

Each song on their profile represents their feelings toward their love interest

[quarterlifekitty]

Mmmm I’ve been binging yellowjackets (no spoilers in this post I prommy) and I’m definitely not thinking about the boys all on a varsity rugby team, on their way to nationals, and you’ve been the head coach’s daughter— go to their college, been to all their games, but so painfully beyond their reach because of who your father is. You’re the forbidden fruit.

Until your father dies in the plane crash and these men slowly devolve into madness, driven by the instinct to build a new garden of Eden around you.

At first it was just survival. There were other girls on that plane, small as it was. Even a couple of girlfriends of the team— but they’re not you. The forest all leads back to you. The things you know— about leatherwork, about what leaves can be used in tea and soup, about how to suture a wound— they’re all just coincidences, and you’re useless in some areas where they excel, but men that are lost need something to believe in. They need a place to lay their faith. There has to be something to work for, and it becomes clearer every day that simply surviving until rescue comes is neither realistic, nor is it enough for them.

Ghost remembers his head in your lap when he was on the field, his ankle twisted into a direction he hadn’t thought possible after a bad slide during a game. His sweat soaked through your skirt from the pain while you held him, palms to his cheeks.

Soap remembers the flames licking his skin when you used all of your strength to pull him free from his seat on the plane.

Gaz remembers the sweet, herbaceous smell of the honey poultice you spread over the gash on his thigh when he could feel it itching inside.

Price remembers you shyly handing him the smokes you’d dug from your father’s carry on when he thought he’d run out for good.

Maybe it all happened for a reason. The crash, your father…

Maybe the woods brought you here to make you queen.

As I said. I haven’t been thinking about it or anything.

[alicentsgf]

forgot to share this one with you guys ! jackieshauna x pro soccer rivals au

[dramagodesss]

PUCKING 7 - Yellowjackets hockey SMAU

PAIRING: Natalie Scatorccio x reader

SUMMARY: OKAY, maybe moving overseas the instant you got the acceptance letter from The College of New Jersey in (you guessed it) New Jersey, to join their Yellowjackets in the NCAA was in fact a bit reckless, but who cares? You were sick of Barcelona anyway, and the idea of being on a team filled with people you didn't know at all seemed —even if it felt a bit scary— appealing, to say the least. A change couldn't hurt, could it?

Well, if you consider falling hard for one of your teammates a good start, then yeah, you had the best fucking start in the world. But that's obviously not a good start (far from it, really) because Natalie isn't just a fierce on the ice and a pretty face, she's also got a whole aromory to destroy you. But you've always been kind of a masochist anyway…

CHAPTERS:

one : pre-season

two: ice, ice, baby

three: jocks and fucks

four : heart eyes

five : welcome in, ice queen

six / seven / eight / nine / ten / eleven / twelve /thirteen / fourteen / fifteen / sixteen / seventeen / eighteen / nineteen / twenty

SOCIALS : here! I team (detailed + jerseys)

join the taglist!

divider : @dividers-are-us