#and the bottle is still nearly full

[victory-cookies]

my holo taco order came in and my mystery polish was one I already have 😭

[icewindandboringhorror]

I love all of these goofy product photos where the water bottle is extremely obviously just photoshopped onto a stock image of someone pretending to hold something or whatever.. very convincing..

[freckleslikestars]

Anyone else ever read a fic where they’re doing something that you have knowledge/experience of and they’re doing it wrong and every time it’s mentioned it pulls you out of it?

[ohbo-ohno]

Kinktober Day 8 - Cockwarming

Ghost x Soap x F!Reader - 1.6k

summary: Ghost keeps you on his lap while he watches a soccer game. (You POV)

cw: dom!ghost, subby soap & reader, cock warming, cunnilingus, overstimulation

“Simon,” you whine, sweat-slick back arching against his front as you strain for any sensation at all. “Please.”

“Hush,” he scolds, tweaking a stiff nipple and taking a swig of his beer. “‘M tryin’ to watch the game.”

You squeeze your eyes shut and try to take a deep breath, only to hiccup through the exhale when the cock impaling you shifts as Ghost spreads his thighs. 

You’ve been here for what feels like hours, but you know it’s only been about forty minutes, the steadily ticking clock at the top of the TV screen tells you just how slowly time passes when Simon holds you on his lap like this. 

Only five more minutes, you tell yourself, hopeful that he’ll fuck you at the halftime break, or at the very least let you have an orgasm. 

You feel more than hear him grunt behind you when you clench your inner walls around his length, your own eyes rolling back in your head at the overwhelming fullness. 

There’s a low whine from only a few feet away, and your eyes are unconsciously drawn over to where Johnny is kneeling beside the coffee table, naked and damp with sweat despite the fact that he’s been holding himself still just as long as you have, only without the cock inside of him.

Simon huffs, hooking his chin over your shoulder and leaning forward enough to see Johnny and – you assume, from the way Johnny shrinks a bit – glare him into further submission. “Quiet,” he stresses, irritated. “You’re distractin’ me.”

“But sir,” Johnny pushes, leaning closer with his hands clenched tight on his knees, knuckles white from pressure. “She looks so pretty, I need her so bad, please–”

Ghost doesn’t bother using his words, only grunts a harsh sound that has Johnny settling back onto his heels, looking properly chastised even as his flushed cock kicks against his stomach. You can’t help but moan as Ghost settles back again, every shift of him inside of you agonizing. 

One large hand rests against your stomach for the next few minutes, the callouses on Simon’s fingertips rough against your hypersensitive skin. He kneads your tummy mindlessly, pushing and pulling as he sips from his beer and grunts disapprovingly at the way his team plays. The repetitive motion calms you just enough that you can get a deep breath in, but nothing can distract you from the throbbing in your clit. 

It feels like another eternity has passed when the players all file off the field, the camera cutting away to commercial as the halftime break starts. You try to temper your enthusiasm as much as you can, but your heart races when you hear the sound of Simon setting his bottle on the coaster. 

“Alright,” he finally says, and it’s all you can do to keep from wriggling on his lap as he shifts to hold you more firmly in place. “Here, pup.”

Johnny practically throws himself forward, knees thudding loudly on the hardwood floor as he shoves himself between Ghost’s thighs, hands resting on your knees where they’re spread by Simon’s. 

Simon is quick to wrap his fingers in Johnny’s mohawk, holding him back from shoving himself face-first into the slick dripping steadily from you, and ignoring the heartbroken whine that ensues. 

“You gonna settle if I let you have a taste of the girl?” He grunts, shaking Johnny just a bit by the hair. You’re mesmerized by the way Johnny’s eyes cross, lashes damp and cheeks flushed as he pants beneath you. “Gonna start behavin’?”

“Yes, yes,” Johnny insists, nodding as much as he can. “Promise, sir, I can be good.”

Ghost snorts and scratches across Soap’s scalp, clearly disbelieving. “You better hope you can, otherwise you’re not gettin’ that pathetic thing between your legs anywhere near the girl until you prove you can behave yourself.”

You can’t tell if Johnny’s moan is heartbroken or horny when you nearly drown him out with your own cry at the cruel words. 

“I’ll be good,” Johnny insists, grip so tight on your knees that you’d worry he’d yank you out of your position if you were being held by anyone but Ghost. “Please, Lt, let me be good?”

“Hmm.” Ghost strokes over your belly and Soap’s hair at the same pace, careful to keep a firm enough grip that Johnny can’t move much more than he’s allowed. “Alright. You have ‘til the game’s back on.”

Before he can even finish his sentence, Johnny’s mouth is pressed against your cunt.

You cry out at the sharp burst of pleasure, at the relief of finally having something touching where you’re most sensitive, only to quickly melt into nothing but mewls and moans as you become overwhelmed. 

Johnny sucks your clit so hard that it’s almost painful, driving you to dig your nails into his scalp as you hold on for dear life. Simon wraps his arm fully around your waist, left hand holding your right hip tightly and his right hand keeping you open for Johnny no matter how much you struggle.

Your gasps are ripped from your chest as Johnny messily licks your cunt, Ghost’s chest rumbling against your back as he’s stroked by Soap’s tongue too. The sheer amount of sensation after so long with nothing almost blinds you, your entire world shrunk down to what can fit inside of you and what can rub against your clit in just the right way.

“Oh my god, oh my god,” you gasp at a particularly rough suck of your clit. If you weren’t so mindless with pleasure you’d worry about just how hard your nails are scratching along his scalp, but the way he moans into your body wipes any hope of worry from your mind. “Johnny!”

“He treatin’ you well?” Ghost rumbles, pressing against your stomach. Any words you’d want to give him are stolen by the way he makes himself feel just that much larger inside of you, your hole so wet that you’re sure there’ll be a stain when you’re finally allowed to stand. 

“Mhm, mhm,” you hum, the only answer you can manage when Soap has taken to seemingly trying to suck the base of Ghost’s cock, only managing to lick around your hole instead. “So good,” you slur. 

“Sounds like it,” Ghost says, his patronizing amusement flying over your head as Johnny gives up on Simon’s cock and returns his full attention to your clit.

Your moans are driven higher and higher as you’re pushed closer to your long-awaited orgasm, your voice cracking as your feet kick helplessly against the couch, held firmly by Ghost. You couldn’t open your eyes if you tried, fingers digging deep gouges into Johnny’s hair and Simon’s forearm as you’re shoved towards your peak at a ruthless pace. 

You practically scream when Johnny just barely presses his teeth to your bundle of nerves, tongue lashing against you and throwing you off the cliff of release you’d been waiting on for so long. 

Ghost moans in sync with you as you milk his cock, squeezing him so tightly that it almost hurts you, hole stinging around his girth despite the juices coating all three of you. He doesn’t come, but the feeling of his cock twitching inside of you as your body does its best to coax cum from his nearly sends you spinning into a second orgasm. 

Johnny’s mouth doesn’t let up, even as your hold on him relaxes and your body goes limp against Simon. He only continues to lick at your clit, then around your pussy and trying to suck your lips into his mouth, licking you with a fervor that feels almost manic. 

“Johnny!” You gasp when he gives you just a momentary break, only to bite your thigh sharply enough that you jerk a few inches off of Ghost’s cock. 

“Down,” Simon snaps, shoving Johnny away from you with enough force to nearly send him sprawling. Johnny catches himself on the couch though, looking up at both of you with tears in his eyes and a cock that looks like it could cut diamond.

You coo a little, hand shaky as you reach out to cup the cheek Simon shoved. Ghost only scoffs over your shoulder, yanking you firmly back down so he’s buried to the hilt inside of you and nearly purring at your yelp. 

“Watch the teeth, mutt,” Ghost scolds as Johnny settles back between your thighs, pressing kisses to your soft skin as an apology. “Unless you want me to muzzle you again.”

“No!” Johnny yelps, wrapping an arm around your thigh and pressing himself as close as possible. “‘M sorry, sir, I didnae mean it, promise. I willnae do it again, swear.”

Ghost makes a low sound in his chest that sounds suspicious, but doesn’t push Johnny away or tell him off again. “I’ll believe it when I see it,” he finally says, pushing a strand of hair back into place on Soap’s forehead. “Game’s not back for another ten minutes, you want to keep having fun with the girl or go back to your corner?”

“Wait–” you try to protest, but your voice is cut off when Johnny latches himself to your clit once again, sucking the oversensitive bundle like you aren’t still shaking from your last orgasm. You squeal at the pleasure-pain, body tense like a bowstring. “Please!”

“There you go,” Ghost purrs, resting his chin on your shoulder and squeezing your hip as your cunt spasms around him. “Attaboy, Johnny.”

Your brain practically melts out of your ears before you can string together enough words to beg for even a five minute break, but you can’t find it in yourself to be upset as Johnny practically catapults you towards another orgasm. 

[sttoru]

·.⌇ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. you leave megumi with your husband so you can make them breakfast. you quickly realise that that might have backfired.

wc. around 1.3k

tags. dad!toji x wife!female reader. fluff. reader gets called ‘mama’ by both toji & megumi. half beta read.

“ow, careful there, brat.”

your husband’s deep voice echoes from within the bathroom. you’ve left megumi in his care this morning so you’d be able to make breakfast in peace. toji was all grumpy about it, since he had to wake up early when he had no work, but eventually agreed to your proposal.

you hum your favorite song while frying eggs. the sizzling in the pan did help avert your attention from toji’s grunts of annoyance somewhere in the distance, though only for a couple seconds. your hear your child’s laughter slip between the noises of aggravation. it piques your interest.

“one more time and i’m putting y’r ass in time out,” toji’s deep voice sounds muffled. he sounds rather serious about whatever is bothering him.

you turn the stove off and walk towards the hallway, standing at the doorframe as you look in the direction of the bathroom. you tilt your head and try your best to pick up on snippets of the conversation between your husband and son.

the sound of bottles dropping on the floor is the first thing that allows you to guess that megumi’s acting up. you know how mischievous your little toddler can get, especially at his age. toji isn’t one to gentle parent his kid—he tries to, of course, but sometimes he can’t help but be a bit rough.

“megumi fushiguro.”

you raise your eyebrows as toji uses your child’s full name. he rarely does, only when he’s really upset or about to lose his marbles. you decide to see what was going on for yourself. you walk towards the bathroom, cleaning your hands against the material of your apron. you knock once before pushing the door open.

you stick your head through the little gap, ready to identify the cause of the commotion. the first thing you notice is the chaos on the floor; bottles, tubes, toothbrushes, and all other kinds of products lay cluttered on the bathroom tiles.

your eyes then land on your husband’s broad and scarred back, “hey, honey. did something hap—”

your voice trails off once toji turns around, revealing the jaw dropping scene. nearly his entire face is covered in loads of shaving cream and even his black hair hasn’t escaped the soft foam.

the bathroom counter is completely wet, and the water runs down the edges in small drops. the culprit of this entire scene is sitting right on that same counter, clapping his dirty hands together that were smeared with toji’s shaving cream.

you blink and walk towards the two. you can’t possibly be mad at the sight, finding toji’s situation more funny than worrisome. You try to act serious and clear your throat, “uh, yeah. so what’s happened here?”

your husband rolls his eyes and nods his head at the little boy in front of him, who’s giggling and kicking his legs. toji tries to wipe the shaving cream from his nose, attempting to get it out of his hair as well, “i tried to be a good dad and include him in my morning routine, that’s what.”

the man clicks his tongue as he now realises how dumb of a mistake that was, “gave him the opportunity to put some shaving foam on my jaw ‘n the brat totally blew it. started attackin’ me with the stuff.”

toji grumbles. he wipes away the foam that got on the mirror afterwards. it’s nearly gotten everywhere. he lightly nudges megumi’s forehead with a scoff, “never again, y’hear? the little shit can’t sit still for even one second.”

that explains the stuff on the floor. you know that megumi could grow bored easily if he isn’t the centre of attention. he’d start doing anything to be the focus of his parents. toji probably didn’t pay him much mind, wanting to get his morning routine over with.

“language, honey.” you sigh and look down at megumi who’s still reaching his messy hands up to his dad.

toji huffs and leans back, not giving the little boy a chance to put more shaving cream on his face. he’s learnt his lesson; kids do not understand it when you tell them to ‘only put a little bit’.

megumi whines and threatens to throw a tantrum. you notice that immediately and try to keep his mind off things by picking him up. you turn on the faucet and try to wash his little hands, “c’mon. give mama your hands.”

the little boy shakes his head furiously, squirming in your embrace in attempt to get away. you sigh and grab his little wrists gently. you lower him to the sink, trying your best to wash away the shaving cream as the first step of solving this grande mess.

“no, mama!” megumi is stubborn as he voices his complains. toji watches from a distance whilst he struggles to clean the overload of shaving cream from his face.

you make the mistake of letting go of your child’s wrists to grab a washcloth. megumi takes his chance and pats his messy hands against your face, leaving you no space to process what he’s doing.

your mind takes a second before you realise what’s happening, “hey! quit it, ‘gumi.”

you try to grab ahold of megumi’s tiny hands again, but they move too fast for you. plus, he’s pretty skilled at avoiding yours. you can feel the foam slowly cover your entire face; from your jaw and cheeks, to your nose and forehead.

it was inevitable at this point.

“toji, do something,” you grunt and struggle to contain the energetic toddler in your arms. you take a peek at your husband and find him grinning at the predicament you’ve gotten yourself in.

toji simply shrugs and enjoys the fact that you’re experiencing exactly what he had experienced just moments ago. seeing you struggle to contain your disobedient child only proves that his parenting skills are not the problem in this situation, your toddler is.

“ye did that to y’rself, mama.” toji hums in amusement. he leans against the wall, the blue towel now loosely hanging off head after he’s given up on getting the foam out of his hair, “now y’know what i’m talkin’ about. he’s a lil’ monster.”

megumi squeals in victory after he’s gotten both his parents covered in shaving cream. you want to say something to your child, but you’re at a loss for words. even now, you cannot bring yourself to be mad at him. he’s just a kid who’s having fun with his parents.

“i made mama pretty! hehe.” megumi grins and encourages you to look in the mirror. he points at your reflection and awaits the words of confirmation. his blue eyes look up at you, nearly sparkling with joy, admiring how pretty he’s made you look with that white foam all over your face.

toji joins in on the fun. he comes to stand behind you, looking at you through the mirror. he snickers, already forgotten about his irritations that occurred in the first place. he nods in approval at megumi’s words, “gotta agree, son. y’r mama looks much prettier like this.”

your husband’s teasing comment adds fuel to the fire. though again, you cannot bring yourself to be upset at the situation.

you look at the reflection in the dirty mirror. you all may appear disheveled due to the foamy mess on your bodies—and yet even at that moment—the only thing you actually manage to see is a happy family of three.

[myfictionaldreams]

I have such a specific idea for poly marauders so please bare with me .

James and Sirius were out to a fancy party and they come home early to see reader and remus having sex in the kitchen , remus has her spread on the table while he fucks her and she arches her back and sees sirius through blurry vision and calls his name, remus doesn’t notice them so he thinks shes calling her other boyfriends name “ wrong boyfriend sweetheart “ so he fucks her harder until she calls his name “ there you go love”.

You could continue this however you would like Maybe james and Sirius join them. I also love the idea that after everything when they’re showering she reassure remus and says something like “ it’s hard to think of anything else when I’m around you , you’re all consuming “ and the boys agree THATS SO CUTE.

I’m so sorry that this is long and graphic.

Say My Name // Poly!Marauders x Fem!Reader

A/N: Whoever you are, anon, I thank you for giving me this request because, holy shit, it has turned me (and Remus) absolutely feral, and I have no regrets.

Tags: 18+ readers only, smut, fluff, werewolf troupes, feral remus lupin, dom/sub undertones, possessive sex, size difference/kink (!), praise kink, dirty talk, self-confidence issues, gentle touching/kissing, rough oral sex (f receiving), rough sex, overstimulation, table sex, manhandling, multiple orgasms, crying, body worship, anxiety attack (nearly), restraints, blindfold, begging, aftercare :)))

Words: 5.7k

my masterlist 📚 AO3 Link

“You both look so damn handsome!” you admire dreamily with a thick lace of sarcasm as you tighten the burgundy scarf around Sirius’ neck. The mischievous glint in those twinkling grey eyes brightened as he rolled them in jest, matching the doting smirk on his full lips. “Maybe you should forgo the leather jackets more often for the waistcoats”, you say with a lustful undertone to your words as you look up at him through your lashes.

“Hmm, you think so?” he asks, dipping his height ever so slightly so that he could press his lips to yours in a surprisingly gentle kiss that still managed to pull desire in your abdomen as you leaned in for more but whined as he stood back to full height and straightened the waistcoat you loved so very much.

From behind you at the entrance to the bathroom, James was attempting to knot his bowtie when he wondered, “Are you sure you both don’t want to come with us? We each can have a plus one, which means there’s room for two. We don’t mind being fashionably late”. Glancing over your shoulder, you took in his slick attire that also caused warmth to bloom beneath your cheeks. A simple black jacket shaped perfectly for his slim waist, a crisp white shirt beneath and a matching shade of burgundy to Sirus was the colour for his tie.

The matching colours were an idea of Remus’, who was lounging across the mammoth bed, his long legs stretched out beneath him with one ankle crossed over the other. He watched James intently, the corner of his eye twitching at the messy-haired Marauder's attempts to tie his bowtie.

Remus stood and approached him, batting away James’ fingers as he began to do the job for him. You watched them fondly before answering the unanswered question. “No, it’s ok, James. Remus and I have a lovely night filled with a romantic home-cooked meal and a fancy bottle of wine. Who knows where the night may take us? Might end in some lovely… hand holding”, you say with a simple shrug to your shoulders, returning to straightening the already pristine waistcoat of Sirius.

“Oh yeah? Some strong hand-holding, Moony, is that what you’ve got planned? You might need to up your game”, Sirius jokes under his breath as he watches your fingers closely with a dipped head.

Remus snorted, smiling to himself, knowing that your night would be filled with anything but hand-holding, especially as the hours ticked closer to the following day. It was approaching the full moon, not tomorrow but the next day, but that didn’t matter as the changes were already beginning to affect Remus, and it all started with his desire for possession.

The wolf in Remus took a keen liking to you, even from all those years ago when you met the Marauders on the train to Hogwarts. It was an obsession, a need that devoured him completely to be with you. It had been described to you like a mating. Remus’ wolf thought you were his mate; therefore, as the gap between Remus’ and the wolf’s mind thinned with the full moon, the desire would take hold of Remus. There was still the deep, adoring love that he held for James and Sirius, and thankfully, this stopped him from ever deeming them a threat against your love, but others? Well, that’s where the danger lay, and therefore, it was easier for everyone if you and Remus stayed in for the night rather than have a territorial wizard with werewolf anger in a room full of people.

“Remember to please be safe out there tonight. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do, and for the love of Merlin, James, please don’t drink and fly again. I’m not having another incident like last time”.

“Yes, Mum”, James grumbles sarcastically as Sirius chuckles under his breath.

“I’ll make sure that Prongs is on his best behaviour”, Sirius reasons with you as his hands come to rest around your waist, pulling you ever so gently closer.

“Good”, you say promptly, whilst curling a piece of his long hair around your fingers before reaching up to kiss his lips with a fierce press. “You look so handsome tonight,” you try to praise him as your mouths are still kissing together.

“Don’t I always?” he responds cheekily, earning a half-hearted eye-roll as he eases away, swapping places with James so that he can say goodbye to Remus and James with you.

Your fingers automatically try to tangle through James’ hair, attempting to flatten out the messy strands, but after a couple of minutes of attempts, James tugs you by your wrists. “I don’t know why you even bother; you know my hair will just stay messy. Anyway, doesn’t it add to my roguish good looks?” he wiggles his eyebrows suggestively as he gives you a broad grin whilst kissing each of your palms.

Your fingers cup his freshly shaved cheeks, caressing the smooth skin as you say, “I hope you have fun tonight”, whilst leaning up on your tiptoes to kiss him with as much vigour as you could hear from the groans across the room with Sirius and Remus.

James sighed into the kiss, one hand matching yours by resting along your cheek and the other on your lower back as his lips pecked across your face until hovering next to your ear. “If you need us to come back, just send a note as we taught you; two flicks of your fingers and it should disappear, and we’ll come back straight away”.

Nodding your head in understanding, James kissed your cheek quickly before standing up to his full height and looking over at the other two men. “Sirius, take your tongue from Moony’s mouth; we must go!”

You tried to stifle your laughter as the two men pulled away from each other with rosy cheeks and wet lips.

Sirius and James disappeared with a flurry of green fire through the flu network installed in your shared home's kitchen. Remus turned to you with a heartwarming smile as he asked, “Shall we put some music on and start with dinner, love?”

You left it in Remus’ capable hands to find suitable music on his record player, and it ended up being a medley of David Bowie, which you were always happy to listen to. The two of you worked in unison to cook a beautiful roast dinner, moving around one another without getting in the way but making sure to remain at arm's length. Lingering touches to arms or backs, sipping slowly on the bottle of wine as Remus sang along to Bowie under his breath. You’d told him he could sing louder as you wanted to hear him, but he simply smiled and kissed your cheek, like he was embarrassed at being caught, but it was a rare day where Remus Lupin was embarrassed about anything.

The dinner was beautifully cooked, and there was enough for many more people than just you and Remus. Soon enough, you were stuffed full, thankful for deciding to wear a loose dress today with your expanded stomach. Remus was still eating as you sat and slowly digested your food, talking idly about fond memories from Hogwarts and how your work had been this week. Just anything domestically happy that the two of you could as you shifted closer in your seat so that his large scarred palm could rest on your thigh and your fingers interlock over the back of his hands.

“It’s a rare time when it gets to be just the two of us”, Remus muses, his hand squeezing your fingers and thighs as he pushes away his empty plate, his eyes solely focused on you.

“It’s been nice. As much as I love having all four of us together, sometimes it’s hard to keep up and give each of you all my attention, so when it's just one-on-one, it feels so intimate, wouldn’t you agree?”

His eyes softened as he nodded, “I definitely agree. You look so beautiful tonight, by the way. Have I told you that?”

Warmth filled your cheeks as you looked away to the glass of wine in your other hand. Even after all these years, one small compliment from Remus felt like the world, and it wasn’t the first time he had said that tonight; he’d said it every other sentence, but that didn’t hinder the giddy feeling from spreading in your chest.

“You, Mr Lupin, are a smooth talker”, you say, drinking a sip of your wine, ignoring his growing smile. Placing the glass onto the table, you shifted closer to Remus, resting a hand on his chest as you realised how much time had passed over the night. “So pudding, what would you like? I think we have some ice cream in the freezer, or if you’re lucky, James would have left us a couple of slices of his mum’s cake from yesterday”.

Remus didn’t answer immediately as you realised he was just silently watching you with the beautiful twinkle back in his eye, a curve to his lips that you itched to caress with your thumb. But then, he shifted forward in his seat so you were only mere inches from your faces touching, and the soft flop of his mousey brown hair fell into his eyes. “You’re so pretty, Remus”, you admire and then hold back a giggle as his cheeks flare with colour at your compliment.

“Pretty and scarred”, he muttered in response, cupping your wrist and bringing your fingers to his lips so he could kiss them carefully.

Your automatic response was to shout at him. It wasn’t that he had said anything remotely negative, but you knew the self-conscious thoughts that laced his words that he rarely spoke but still thought. You wanted to remind him of the hundreds of times he had ever scolded you for making negative comments about yourself or any self-doubt. Still, if you did, you knew it would ruin the positive mood for the night, so you wanted to continue with words of affirmation.

Closing the gap between each other, you kissed the tip of his nose whilst cupping both cheeks, paying specific attention to the thick pink scar that ran down from his temple, over his brow and his cheek. “I love you, scars and all”.

Remus’ tension seemed to ease from his shoulders as he breathed lightly out of his nose, his face lowering to rest on your shoulder as you held him for a moment before he began to stand and offered a hand, “What about a dance m’lady, then I’ll find you something sweet to suck on for desert”.

Ignoring the innuendo, you grinned up at him, placing your hand into his much larger palm. James and Sirius had lessons growing up from their families on how to dance for special balls they were forced to attend. You and Remus, on the other hand, were utterly clueless, but this only added to the joy and laughter as you both clumsily tried not to step on the other's toes or twirl without knocking into furniture.

You’d laughed so hard that a stitch formed in your side, causing the vivid dance to settle into a light sway. Your head rested on Remus's shoulder as his cheek pressed against the top of your head, arms around your shoulder as he lightly sang the next Bowie song.

Everything was perfect, especially as his rough fingertips danced up the nape of your neck, carefully tipping your head back so that you were now staring up into his kind eyes, his lips no longer moving along to the lyrics as he licked them carefully, moistening them before dipping his head. The kiss was as gentle as his hands now cupping your face, and you wondered for a moment if you were lightheaded from holding your breath in anticipation or from the effects of having your boyfriend kissing you.

Remus was soft, lovely and perfect as he eased away to put a gap between your mouths, but only so that he could adjust his position by keeping one hand on your jaw and the other around your waist before taking your breath away once more. Instantly, your body rose to the tips of your toes to be closer to him and firm the kiss.

The breath you’d both been holding released, noses pressing into each other's cheeks as the warm air tickled your ears. His tongue teased the seam of your lips, and as you relaxed into the kiss, many things seemed to happen at once.

The grandfather clock in the living room chimed midnight, and the soft Remus you’d been carefully kissing and exploring with your lips was now firmly gripping the back of your thighs, lifting you whilst simultaneously stepping towards the table as you squealed in shock, desperately gripping his shoulders for support.

Plates and glasses smashed onto the floor as Remus shoved aside the lovely table setting so that there was a firm blank canvas for you to be led on.

“Woah, Remus, just give me a minute.” You try to reason with him to at least get your bearings. Having been standing up two seconds ago, you were now led on your back with your boyfriend having become frantic with his actions. His shoulders shook with restraint, and his eyes didn’t lift from the edge of your skirt as he reached for the material. Not only this, but the brightness in his eyes had one, replaced with sinful hunger.

“Need you-” he muttered with a gruffness that hadn’t been there moments ago.

This was why you’d decided to stay in. Sometimes, Remus would curl around your body with the need to simply just breathe you in and declare that you were his; he’d become somewhat feral.

The fire in your body scorched to life as the need seeped into your core. As lovely as it had been, seeing him like this just did something to you. You wanted him just as desperately.

Frantically, you tried to help him lift up your skirt, but he was in control, pushing the material and tearing it in places with his firm grip until your legs and underwear-covered pussy were revealed. For a moment, it looked like he was going to dribble as you tried to reach for him to tell him to take a breath and compose himself, but all you were able to do audibly was scream out, head tipping back as Remus devoured you.

The Marauder hadn’t even waited for your underwear to be removed before his mouth was on you, hands not-so-gently wrapping around your thighs to push your legs apart, the slippers you’d been wearing now flying off in different directions across the kitchen. It was like he’d not eaten a single thing all night with the way his lips and jaw moved against your most sensitive of areas.

The sensation was odd with the barrier of cotton in between your cunt and his mouth. All you had was the pressure, wetness beginning to soak through from his tongue and the overwhelming heat from his mouth. Remus moved hungrily, licking and caressing with his mouth as you lay with your arms gripping onto the edge of the table above your head.

“Rem-Remus! Merlin, please don’t stop!” you begged desperately, allowing your body to succumb to his touch. You couldn’t even open your eyes without feeling dizzy with the sensations of his body all over your lower half as he pressed his tongue firmly against your throbbing clit, circling it with intention.

The hands on your thighs pushed harder, giving his face more room as a deep groan burned from his chest as he needed more. Still, as you whimpered from him to not stop, he stayed in place, stimulating your clit over and over again until your body was tensing with the pulses of desire from your cunt as your orgasm erupted.

His motions continued through the waves of pleasure, and even after, he carried on with his devouring, even as you verged on the edge of becoming overstimulated from the rough material of your panties rubbing against your delicate area. Remus needed more, and he was ready to take it.

The pressure on the back of your thighs suddenly disappears as he drapes your legs over his shoulders, giving you a better angle now to reach down and run your shaky fingers through his soft hair.

With your eyes firmly closed, you hadn’t noticed that your underwear had been torn clean from your body, only noticing when there was no barrier between what you both wanted. Your back arched from the stimulation of him sucking on your bundle of nerves, making an obscenely wet noise as your juices and his saliva caused a heavenly mess. 

Your legs had begun squeezing his face as you weren’t able to control your body, but he didn’t stop; he just simply continued to eat your pretty cunt. “Please….please Remus”, you continued to beg but unsure of what as you were thoroughly warm head to toe with the effects from your last orgasm, but his playful mouth knew just the right ways to keep you at the elevated bliss.

The thickness of his tongue pressed against your throbbing hole, delving as deep as he could go before curling it and exploring the warm softness of your cunt as the tip of his nose stimulated your clit.

It was intense, primarily as his large hands now rested on your abdomen, pushing down and forcing your hips to remain against the table so that he could remain in complete control of the stimulation to your body.

Clenching relentlessly around his tongue, your body couldn’t tell if it was calming down from an orgasm or having another. The overwhelming sensation caused tears to well in your eyes as the apples of your cheeks burned with heat. Everything was too much; even the clothes covering your torso felt claustrophobic as your nipples ached to be free.

“Ah!” you babbled, unable to even say his name as more intense waves of pleasure rocked from your cunt as it pulsed around his tongue. The tears escaped down your cheeks as you tried to gasp for air, your body finally slumping in exhaustion against the table as Remus began to stand from where he’d been on his knees for you.

Each of your legs was carefully eased from his shoulders to dangle off the edge of the wooden surface, not that you could keep them up anyway, as your entire body felt as if it was made of jelly.

“Did so good for me, Love. Taste so fucking good, wanna try?” he asked from where he now looked down at you, hovering only inches away from your face as his fingers wiped away the evidence of the tears. You nod quickly, opening your eyes for a split second to see Remus’ dark eyes and swollen, wet lips before they were pressing against yours, his tongue pushing into your mouth and allowing you the vulgar opportunity to taste your own juices from his mouth.

“My pretty girl tastes so good”, he admired, staring down at you, memorising every flicker of emotions on your face. You mewled at the compliment, nuzzling your face pathetically into his palm as he cradled your face. “What do you want? I want to hear you say it”.

His tone indicated that he was teasing, which was a rare attribute for Remus as he usually just liked to do whatever he had in mind, but when he was like this, wishing to get the very most from you as his werewolf subconscious began to flicker through his thoughts.

“You, I want you. Please!” you stress whilst trying to look up at him, fingers trembling at your side with the need to touch him somehow.

The corners of Remus’ lips tilted up as he smiled down at you, “Have I ever told you how much I love to hear you beg?”

Before you could respond, you were gasping as coolness licked over your chest as he’d swiped his wand down the centre of your clothing until it was falling off of your shoulders, and your body could be free from the confines. His eyes lowered, focused on your pebbled nipples as they begged for him to be touched, but he didn’t rush to them.

Instead, Remus began the long journey of exploring the rest of your body with firm kisses and licking with the flat of his tongue. He paid special attention to your neck, as he always did this close to the full moon as his sharp teeth grazed over your pulse point, the animalistic side of his begging to bite down and mark his girl, but he restrained, knowing it would be painful for you. The last time he’d done so, he’d had a right bollocking off of James and Sirius, who prattled on about how you weren’t his chew toy, even though you had insisted that it was ok.

Moving lower, Remus worshipped your breasts. He was licking the skin around the areola before drawing your nipple and some breast tissue into his mouth, sucking with enough force that the area swelled with the rush of blood. The fire in your core intensified as you gained enough energy to lift your hands and grip his shirt.

“I need you, Remus, please stop teasing me”, you beg, but all that earned in response was an approved grunt.

“Relax, and just let me kiss you”, he sniped with desire as you wanted to sass back but found yourself melting into the table instead. Each inch of your stomach, hips, legs, arms, everywhere he could reach in this position, he praised with his mouth until he was once again hovering above your lips. “All I can think about is you”, he admitted, his tone caught between hunger and pain as his thoughts were becoming too clouded by the wolf’s desire to be close to you.

Your fingers combed through his hair as you tried to sound as calming as possible, “I know, Remus, it’s ok. I’m right here. Take me”.

A shiver ran down his spine as he finally began to unbuckle his trousers, freeing his cock between your bodies as he rested on his elbows on either side of your face so that his face could nuzzle into your neck.

You took the honours of reaching between your legs, grasping his impressively hard cock, admiring the soft skin and veins that bulged as you pulled him closer to where you needed him most.

“Tell me you’re mine”, he begged as you directed his tip to your soaked hole.

Tilting your head so that you could kiss his cheek, you implored, “I’m yours Remus - FUCK!”

All you could do was curse and cling to him as, with one powerful thrust, the majority of his cock stretched into your pussy. You could never take his entire length unless it were through anal play, but that didn’t stop him trying as the pressure became overwhelming as he nudged against your cervix.

Your thighs trembled once more as he gave you time to adjust, sighing blissfully against your neck as if he had finally found what it was that he was looking for. However, as your cunt frantically fluttered around Remus as you adjusted to the intrusion, Remus began to rut his hips in short, snapping thrusts slowly.

You groaned at the sensation and found your hips meeting his until all restraint was gone, and Remus was fucking you hard and fast.

Pushing up on his hands so that he was looking down at you, Remus fucked you hard. The table beneath you groaned just as loudly as you were as it rocked against the floor, and for a split second, you hoped it wouldn’t suddenly collapse beneath you two.

Remus suddenly moved as if hearing your thoughts, widening his stance as he stood to his full height, hands on your thighs and bringing your body to the very edge of the table. In this position, he could fuck you with quick snaps of his hips. Your back arched in this new position, pleasure pouring into your soul.

However, a noise over the sound of the fucking caught your attention as the fire flickered with green flames, and you couldn’t help but gasp, “Sirius!” as he stepped out of the fire, followed closely by James.

Remus, still with his head hunched slightly from where he was watching you intently, growled at the name used, his gaze hardening on you as he leaned back until you looked into each other's eyes. “Wrong name, Sweetheart”, he demanded lowly, fucking into you with as power as he could, causing you to cry out and tense with the pleasure. “I only want my name coming out of your mouth, do you understand?”

“Yes, Remus! I’m sorry!” you plead with him as he fucks you harder.

“There you go, Love. See, it wasn’t so difficult, was it?” As he talks, he lifts his hands and covers your eyes so you can no longer look at Sirius or James as you’re plunged into darkness.

“Don’t be too hard on her, Moony”, James teases from somewhere across the room as you hear him and Sirius shuffling around but are unable to see what they are doing.

Remus grunts but doesn’t stop with his motions, making sure that your next orgasm is just as overwhelming and powerful as the others as your cunt clung to him for dear life, attempting to milk his balls with the powerful clenches but he didn’t stop fucking you all the way through your orgasm.

Having his hand over your eyes was a disorientating position to be in, especially as he would every so often kiss your cheek or neck, savouring your soft skin before moving away so that his momentum could continue.

A hiss echoed across the room from wherever your other two boyfriends currently were, and as another whimper sounded from what you assumed was Sirius, Remus then decided it would be a good time to completely pull out of your pussy, leaving you gaping and empty.

Before you could moan, more disorientation flowed through you as his hand was removed from your face, and your body was being manhandled so that you were now being turned over on the table until your front was pressed against the wood. With a gentle kick to your ankle, Remus made room between your legs for himself and fucked into you. He was even deeper in this angle, which you didn’t think was possible as his chest pressed against your back.

His and didn’t return to your face, allowing you to look at your other lovers. Sirius was currently sitting on James’ lap, both of their fancy clothes more dishevelled from earlier as the bowtie and scarf were off and the top buttons were undone. They stared intently at you and Remus as they touched one another. James was kissing the column of Sirius’ neck whilst his hands groped at the bulge at the front of his trousers. At the same time, Sirius was grinding his hips down on James, who you assumed had a matching bulge that was rubbing against Sirius’ arse.

“You’re mine, Love. Aren’t you? My pretty girl”, Remus whispered with deep penetrations of his cock into your cunt.

“Yes! I’m yours, Remus! You’re so deep”, you proclaim with a cry as you find yourself already wanting to peak and cum over his thick dick again. However, Remus knew you just as well as you knew yourself and could feel the tightening of your soft walls and stopped all thrusting as you sobbed with the beautiful feeling washing away.

His hand eased beneath your face, holding your jaw and forcing your sight away from your boyfriend's until it was tilted to look over your shoulder at Remus. “You only get to cum after them”, he demands before nipping your ear love with a sharp tug of his teeth.

“Moony, you really are tense, aren’t you” Sirius jokes breathlessly as he moves more eagerly against James, whose hand is now fully inside of his boyfriend's trousers, wanking him off in time with the movements.

Thankfully it didn’t take them long to cum, Sirius first with his head thrown back and trousers staining a dark colour in a little puddle. James then rutted up into Sirius a few minutes later, groaning and stilling his movements. Both breathed each other in deeply, lazily kissing and holding onto one another until your sudden gasp echoed around the room as Remus continued with his fucking.

Your head moved to drop onto the table as you accepted the fucking, but Remus’ hand remained beneath, cushioning your face from the hardness of the wooden table as his lips moved to the junction between your throat and shoulder.

With each thrust, Remus repeatedly grunted the possessive word, “Mine!” until it was all you could think about. Your orgasm nearly caused you to pass out with its intensity. Juices streamed from your cunt, dripping down your thighs as waves of clenching pleasure constricted around Remus’ cock until he was forcing as much of himself as he could into you, and thick seed spurted into you. The warmth was welcomed as it soothed your pussy from the inside out as it began to trickle down your thighs, mixing with your own juices.

You were half aware of your movements, more concerned with the fact that you couldn’t control the tremble and sobs as Remus pressed himself harder over your back, making you feel grounded and safe.

“Shh. Slowly breathe in and out for me. That’s it. Slowly breathe for me again, keep going, well done”, Remus encouraged for some time as you’d been close to a panic attack with the overstimulation, close to tipping into the submissive headspace that would have taken them a lot longer to draw you out of.

“It’s just… a lot”, you say shakily, eyes closed and absorbing every warmth he was willing to give you”.

“I know, I’ve got you. I’ve always got you”, he reassured calmly.

You’re exhausted, ready to fall asleep right there on the kitchen table as you whisper, “I wanna go to sleep”.

Remus kissed your naked shoulder, “After we clean you up, ok, Love?”

As Remus begins to stand, his half-hard cock slipping out of your well-used hole with a slurp and shudder from both of you, did James finally step forward whilst readjusting his softening cock in his trousers.

Squatting down next to you, his fingers tentatively caressed your cheek while keeping an eye on Remus behind you to ensure the action wouldn’t trigger him somehow. “You alright there?” James asked softly.

“Mmhm. Just a little sleepy”, you say whilst closing your eyes at the ticklish touch on your face.

Sirius stepped forward from behind James, raising his wand and pointing it to the destroyed rest of the kitchen mess, “I’ll clean up here, you guys look after her, and I’ll join you in the bathroom”.

Remus had to carry you to the bathroom as liquid drips flooded out of you and marked the direction you had been giving Sirius more to clean up. As this house was altered for the four of you, the shower was wide enough to provide you with Remus and James plenty of room to wash together.

You attempted to stand up on your own but ended up leaning heavily on Remus as James washed the remnants of the fucking from your body was skilled, careful fingers.

“You know I didn’t mean to say the wrong name, right? I just didn’t expect to see them standing there and-” you begin to explain with Remus, worried he’d been upset by you saying Sirius’s name earlier.

However, his lips quickly cut you off with a simple peck, “I know”.

Kissing his cheek several times, you mumbled against his skin, “It’s hard to think of anything else when I’m around you. You’re all consuming, Remus”.

Against your lips, you feel the heat radiating off of him in a quick burst of rare embarrassment as he actually blushed at your words.

“She’s right, Moony. Without you, there is no us without you”, James quips in a rare statement of sincerity.

A cough from the bathroom door catches all your attention as Sirius casually leans against the door frame, cheeks round with roast potato as he joins in with the Remus praising. “There’s a reason why we all argue every night to see who gets to be spooned by the magnificent Remus Lupin”.

Three of you chuckled before you asked, “Are you eating my leftovers?”

“What?” he says with a shrug, stepping further into the room and beginning to take off his clothing at last. “The food was scarce at the party, and Moony’s roasties are always so fucking good”.

You nod in agreement before looking up at Remus once more, who looks quite proud of himself for the flow of compliments coming his way. However, as you attempted to lean up onto your tip toes again to kiss his handsome face in some way, your knees decided they were finished holding up your way as you nearly collapsed to the floor, only stopping because of his strong arms wrapping around your waist.

“As much as I appreciate this little pep talk, I think we need to get someone to bed”.

Remus lay in the centre of the bed, where he rightfully deserved to be tonight with you on top of him, face resting on his chest and legs on either side of his hips as each of your hands held his. Sirius and James joined later, deciding they needed some extra alone time in the shower together, as the dry humping hadn’t entirely filled that horny spot for either of them.

You were asleep by the time both men crept into bed, resting either side of you and Remus with arms spooning around your back as the three shared a kiss goodnight. “How was your night?” Remus asked, looking between James and Sirius. “You’re both sober, so I’m assuming no mischief?”

“Oh, Moony, like we need alcohol to cause a riot. Why do you think we’re back so early?” Sirius declares whilst flicking out the laugh and curling in closer to the warmth of bodies as Remus chuckles into the darkness.

[cherrychilli]

18+ Eddie Munson x f! reader, best friend! Eddie, friends to lovers, mentions of bodily injury, mentions of masturbation (m), oral sex(m)

Summary: Eddie hurts his dick and as his best friend, you decide to help him ease his pain.

WC: 3K

A/N: I am so tickled by the idea of Eddie wrecking his cock and balls on accident so I had to write about it and wedge in some spice as well. Enjoy!

When Eddie had told you he wasn't feeling well enough to hangout tonight he should have realized that someone like you, caring and loyal almost to a fault, would take it upon themselves to help in any way they could, showing up at his trailer a few hours later with dinner and a zipper pouch full of medicine he might need.

"Ding dong, I'm here to take care of you, Munson", you'd gleamed at him playfully.

It was no secret that he didn't take the best care of himself whenever he was under the weather. Eddie was known for skipping his meds and spending most of the day swathed in a cocoon made of blankets, emerging hours later to pad into the kitchenette where he'd nibble at cold, leftover takeout before weakly traipsing back to bed.

So, when you showed up at his front door with your arms wound around a thermos full of homemade chicken soup and a Tupperware container warm with baked salmon, he should have felt happy. He should have felt grateful for the trouble you'd gone through just to make sure that he ate well and was looked after while he was on his own but instead, all he felt was the sharp, piercing sting of guilt.

The thing was, Eddie wasn't really sick.

He wasn't running a fever like he'd claimed over the phone. He'd purposely hidden the real reason why he couldn't come over to your place and watch a movie like the two of you had planned because well, he was embarrassed.

The truth was, Eddie couldn't come hangout because his dick and balls were killing him.

It had happened last night.

He'd been spread out on the couch while Wayne was away, dressed only in a pair of boxers snug around his hips with a movie playing on TV to keep him entertained throughout the night.

As usual, a blunt was held between his plush lips for most of the evening too, a bottle of jack by his feet which he'd pick up and gulp from time to time.

The combination of alcohol and the weed served a particular purpose that night – helping to make the tooth achingly bad acting in Zombie Lake more tolerable, a movie he'd picked solely for the gratuitous nudity.

Forty minutes of naked, unsuspecting women wading in zombie infested waters later and he was more than a little strung out at that point, rendered blissfully languid while he lay slumped against the couch.

Eddie had picked that moment to reach for the whiskey with his bloodshot, half lidded eyes still plastered on the TV screen, missing twice before he managed to pick it up with light fingers.

Bringing the three quarters full bottle up to his lips for another swig, that was when the booze slipped out of his loose grip, too high to react quickly enough and catch it before it was too late.

With his thighs spread far apart, the full weight of the bottle landed directly on his crotch, the pain shooting from between his legs like daggers, enough to make him feel like the air had been kicked right out of his lungs.

The carpet and couch soaked up most of the spilled whiskey, the nearly empty bottle lying on its side on the floor while Eddie couldn't do much but cup both hands over his junk and curl into himself, trying to grunt, groan and hiss through the pain as tears brewed in his eyes.

Now, it's almost been a full 24 hours since the incident happened but his dick's still super sore from the impact. And to make matters worse his balls are blue in more ways than one.

See, Eddie's got the kind of sex drive that had him jacking off at least twice a day to keep himself sane but now thanks to his injury, he's already feeling pent up, unable to tug his swollen cock and give himself that much needed release.

So, though your outfit isn't provocative, it's still you, his best friend whom he's harbored less than platonic feelings for so of course your denim shorts and your tank top are making him want to act up, the swirling desire at the base of his stomach burning even hotter with the way you're taking care of him, showing him a level of concern no one else has before.

It isn't fair, he thinks, having to sit across from you on the couch while he tries to fight off the growing ache in his cock, tries to will his sore member soft for the sake of your friendship as well as curbing his own pain.

You're yet to notice his dilemma though, rummaging through your bag while Eddie tries not to let the scent of your body wash trigger flashes of you sitting in your bath tub with your bare tits above water, all wet and soapy with your nipples all hard and the bubbles trailing between your cleavage and–

"Shit", he hisses when a twinge of pain flares as his dick starts to twitch in his sweats.

"Everything okay, Eds?", you look up from your bag when you hear it but he's quick to wipe the grimace from his face, faking his best smile at you.

"All good. So, what are we doing next?"

He's relieved when he watches your soft smile slowly return to your face, the kind that reaches your eyes and curves your lips in that way that makes him want to reach out and cup your cheek, running his thumb over your soft skin before he tells you how pretty he thinks you are.

"How about casual sex?", you ask, all chipper.

"…what?"

In an instant Eddie's whole body alternates between flashes of frigid cold and scorching hot. Had he heard you right? were you…offering? fuck, his dick is throbbing so bad in his sweats right now.

You dive your hand back into your bag, pulling out a VHS tape and holding it out for Eddie to see.

"Figured a comedy would be for the best", you waved the tape in his gawking face, his stomach somersaulting when he reads the title. Of all the movies you could have picked, you just had to go pick the one called Casual Sex? didn't you?

"Plus, I know how much you like Lea Thompson so I figured this would be a good pick", you smiled sweetly at him, tapping a finger over the actress pictured on the cover.

Another sharp prick of guilt and another dull ache radiates in Eddie's crotch because his mind's being especially cruel to him right now, dredging up unwanted memories of the time he wore out a copy of Howard the Duck by beating his meat to Lea Thompson's scenes all day and night.

"Uh, got anything else?", he croaks, clearing his throat when you narrow your eyes at him a little suspiciously.

After a little back and forth, the two of you end up watching The Thing to Eddie's relief. Nothing there that might trigger a boner except the couple of times you squealed adorably when Kurt Russell popped up on screen, kicking your feet and hugging your knees to your chest, inadvertently making your cleavage more noticeable over the neckline of your tank top.

Eddie's able to ignore it for the most part, that was until you offered to help clean up a little once the movie was over, bending over in your denim shorts to gather the empty soda cans sitting on the table in front of the couch.

Despite the alarm bells echoing in his head, he can't seem to help it, eyes trailing up the back of your smooth, bare thighs, settling on your ass and the way he can just about make out a peek of your cheeks now that your shorts have ridden up high.

Oh shit.

Up until now you'd been pretty pert all night but when you turn around, you're instantly startled by the look on Eddie's face, all twisted up and pinched as he presses a cushion into his lap and begins to wince.

"Eddie, what's wrong?", you set the cans aside, dropping back down on to the couch beside him.

Yet another flash of pain courses through him when he catches sight of the way your breasts bounce in your tank top when you take a seat. Jesus, this wasn't going to be easy, was it?

Eddie tries to mask it but you can read the pain there easily, especially when you're so close to him now, close enough that your shoulder brushes against his bicep.

"Eddie please, you can tell me. What's wrong?"

If there was a way out of this without having to admit the truth, without having to tell you how he'd given a whole new meaning to the term whiskey dick, he couldn't seem to find it, feeling helpless as he crumbles under the weight of your concerned, round-eyed stare.

"I lied, okay? I'm not sick, I just…"

Insides twisting, he has to squeeze his eyes shut the moment he sees the confusion register on your face, the way your eyebrows draw together and your eyes narrow. It's too much for him to handle and it all comes flooding out at once.

"I dropped a bottle of whiskey on my dick last night and now the damn thing's killing me because you look so– uh. Fuck. You look so…like, this and it's just– it's a lot"

Daring to open his eyes again, he finds that your own eyes have gone understandably wide, your lips slightly parted too and he hates himself for thinking how badly he'd like to slip his fingers between them and watch you suck.

"Oh. So like, is it– are you hurt badly?", you break the silence after a few seconds of processing his word vomit, blinking up at Eddie like you're fascinated to learn more about his injured cock.

"I mean, I don't think it's anything I need to go to hospital over but yeah. Hurts a lot", he replies a little sheepishly, a side of Eddie you don't see very often because he's far and away from the shy type that's for sure.

"Like when you get hard?", you tilt your head to the side curiously.

Eddie blinks back at you when you say it, clearly taken aback by how casually you're treating this whole situation after how hard he'd tried to hide it but he manages to answer you with a slow nod.

He shivers next when suddenly you drop your gaze to the cushion he's got pressed over his aching boner. "Hm… it’s probably not going to go away anytime soon either, huh? we should do something about that", you suggest thoughtfully.

In that moment, all he can do is look at you in disbelief, sweat beading at his temple and his fingers trembling on top of the cushion. This couldn't really be happening, could it? His best friend since, forever, offering to get him off?

Eyes drifting up to his once more, you lean a little closer, voice dropping down to a whisper. "I could help you", you offer, tentatively placing your hand on Eddie's knee. "Only if you want me to."

Adams apple bobbing, it hurts Eddie when he swallows, finding his throat's turned dry and tight in the last few seconds.

"Seriously? you'd actually do that? um, are you sure?"

You bite back a laugh because the look on his face is nothing short of adorable, all wide eyed and eager like a puppy awaiting a treat.

"Well, you could sit here with your bruised dick and keep whimpering like a baby or you could let me make you feel better. What's it going to be, Eds?", you quirk up an eyebrow at him at the same time the corner of your mouth picks up into a playful smirk.

"The second one please", he answers quickly, his cheeks flooding with so much color you kind of want to pinch them and tease him about how cute he looks right now.

"Thought so."

Smiling, you pick yourself up off the couch, carefully lowering yourself to kneel between Eddie's legs when you place your hands on his knees and gently encourage him to spread them apart.

He's quick to help you when you reach for the waistband of his sweatpants next, carefully pulling both it and his boxers down to finally free his cock.

For both of you, it's surreal being in this position – Eddie with his cock out, all hard and throbbing for you and you wedged perfectly between his legs like a puzzle piece he'd been searching for all his life.

You have to take a few seconds to admire it; the way the length of him blushes red and curves up towards his belly, the way the many veins wrap around his thickness and the dark, wiry thatch of hair at his base, untrimmed and full. Just how you'd always imagined based on how wild Eddie kept the hair on his head.

Eyes trailing lower, you have to resist the urge to palm his balls to keep from possible hurting him. You want to feel the weight of them in your hand though because you can't help but think they look so full and that makes you feel sorry for Eddie and how he'd had to deal with that discomfort all day.

The thought has you pushing your lips out into a sympathetic little pout, hand reaching out to finally touch him. Gently, you use your fingers to pull back his soft foreskin, leaning forward and parting your lips to delicately kitten lick at his red, leaking tip, keeping your eyes fixed on his face for any signs of discomfort.

You're pleased to find none, chest blooming with pride as you watch complete bliss wash over Eddie's face, swirling your tongue gently and collecting beads of precum when you hear him sigh and moan with relief.

"Oh my god, that's – that's really fucking good. Please keep going", he whines unabashedly because that persistent ache that's been troubling him since last night is being soothed so fucking well by your eager tongue. At this point he doesn't even care what kind of sounds you might pull out of him, desperate to feel more of your touch.

"Don't think I'm gonna last long", he gulps when you blink up at him with your pretty lips wrapped around his tip. "Your mouth feels too good."

His words make your confidence rise like steadily billowing smoke. "You don't need to", you tell him truthfully. "I just want to make you feel better", pressing a sweet kiss to the top of his smooth head, loving the way his breath stutters when you do it and the feeling of his sticky precum coating your lips in a shiny film. Like he's marking you..

As you continue, you refrain from using your hands while you pleasure him, keeping them pressed flat against his inner thighs, using only your mouth to kiss and lick up and down his rigid shaft as your nose nudges against it softly, returning to suckle at his tip from time to time.

It's easy to tell how badly Eddie must have needed this because he's unravelling so quickly under your touch as he throws his head back against the couch, his hands balled into fists by his sides while he whimpers about how well you're doing.

He's so pretty like this with his neck bared to you but you miss his gaze, removing your swelling lips from his cock to coax him back. "Don't hold back with me, Teddie. Tell me what you need and I'll give it to you", you coo earnestly.

Lifting his cloudy head to look down at you, it's Eddie's turn to surprise you when he brings one hand up to brush back a few strands of hair that'd gotten stuck to your damp cheek, a brief moment of tenderness that makes the butterflies resting in the depths of your stomach wake and beat their wings.

"Could you go a little lower?", he asks you, chest heaving and lips slightly pink from biting.

"Want me to lick your balls?", you try to clarify.

That makes him chuckle, a sweet, airy sound that makes you feel like there's sunlight spilling through the spaces between your ribs, filling up your whole chest with pleasant warmth.

"When d'you start talking like this, huh? Y' got such a dirty mouth on you, sweetheart", he teases you lightly, pulling his hand back so you can get back to working him.

You simply smile against his shaft in reply, feigning coy and innocence while trailing kisses lower and lower until you reach the seam of his balls. Placing your warm tongue flat against it, you draw it up slowly, wetting his heated skin before pressing more kisses against his sack, giggling when the hair there starts to tickle your lips.

"Think you can handle it if I take you in my throat? I'll go slow, I promise", you speak up from between his legs.

Given how often he's pumped his cock to the very thought of you throating him, Eddie nearly trips over himself trying to find the words to answer.

"Holy shit, yes please", he manages to let out with a strained groan.

That's all you needed to hear before you're taking him into your mouth again, bobbing up and down a few times slowly, careful not to let your teeth scrape his sensitive skin before you bob deeper and let him reach the back of your throat, triggering your gag reflex and making your throat close around him nice and tight.

"Baby– baby, fuck I'm going to cum", he gasps, hips jerking, eyes squeezing shut.

And that's all the warning he can manage to give you before he's spilling down your throat, thick, creamy ropes of it which you swallow down eagerly and as best as you can.

Most of it slides down the warm, wet contracting walls of your throat but you realize just how pent-up Eddie must have been when your cheeks puff out a little with a generous amount of his cum that you couldn't manage to gulp down fast enough, pulling off of Eddie's softening cock with a mouthful of spend sitting warm on your tongue, coating the insides of your cheeks.

Sitting there on your knees while Eddie pants and recuperates, a deeply curious part of you has you swishing his cum in your mouth, savoring the distinct, tangy taste of him before you part your lips and let him look inside.

Exhausted but entirely amazed, he gawks at you and the viscous mess of spit and semen in your mouth, tempted to stick his own tongue in there and taste himself on you before you press your swollen lips back together and promptly swallow, a beaming smile breaking out on your face.

"See? told you I'd take care of you."

[bloodibambiidoll]

Pussy Liquor (Eric Draven x Stripper!Reader)

Summary: It’s a slow, boring night at the club until he walks through the door.

Warnings: Eric is implied to have a lot of money(he’s in the music industry), unprotected public sex, lust at first sight, choking 18+MDNI

✰ I think this one has been a long time coming for me. I’ve never written stripper!reader but I was a stripper for several years so this is v personal to me. The songs reader dances to used to be my favorite set. thank u for always encouraging me pookie @babygorewhore ✰

It was a dreary, slow night. There were bodies in the club but no money to go along with them. A few dudes you can tell just turned 21 and are here for the experience, they’ll definitely spend the entire evening at the same table drinking cheap beer while they whistle at the dancers with their wallets closed. A few of the girls regulars are here, either in the back or cozied up at a table. If you were lucky they’d ask you to come sit with them and at the very least buy you drinks but you didn’t feel like entertaining someone for nothing more than a few ones and some shots. There was a couple in the corner arguing and a few older men with their eyes practically glued to the slot machines. Classic.

But there was one individual that caught your eye. He wasn’t someone you would usually see in a place like this. He was more like a pretty face you saw on the street and thought about for the rest of the week. He’s tucked away in a back corner booth drinking what looks like shots of crown royal, the whole bottle, always a good sign. He’s approached the stage and tipped each girl generously but hasn’t stayed for a set. You’ve noticed a few girls go offer him dances but he declines, offering them a tip anyway. You couldn’t blame them for trying. He was gorgeous. He’s extremely tall, still towering over even the tallest dancers in their heels. His toned arms are covered in tattoos and the white tee he’s wearing sits taunt against his chest. His distressed black jeans are tucked into beat up leather boots and his face is otherworldly. Those bright green eyes shine in the flashing lights of the club, the way they dance around his face accentuating different parts of his statuesque bone structure. He has full lips and a perfect pointed nose and you’ve never wanted to ride a customer right in the middle of the club until right now. You haven’t felt nervous to go on stage since you were just starting out dancing but the way his viridescent eyes raked over your body as you climbed the stairs to the stage had your heart pounding.

Your first song starts to play and you grab onto the pole lightly as you prance around it to the beat. You press the tip of your healed boot against the bottom of the pole and spin your body around it with your other leg pointed before pressing your back against it. You nearly trip when you see the man you’ve been fantasizing about all night sitting at your stage with a $20 bill sitting on the bar. You regain your composure, smiling at him sweetly as you slide down the pole onto your knees so you can crawl to him. The sound of Rob Zombie’s “Pussy Liquor” thrums through your body, making you feel like a succubus. You stop on your knees in front of the top bar, never breaking eye contact with him as you pluck it with your manicured fingers and stuff it into the band of your black bikini top.

“Thank you, that’s so sweet of you.” You press your tits together as you lean over and stick your ass out behind you. “I’m Bunny, what’s your name?”

“Well, that’s kind of forward, isn’t it?” His voice is much softer than you expected as he returns your smile with one of his own, it’s not condescending though, it’s almost playful. “I’m Eric.”

“Well, you don’t have to tell me anything if you don’t want to. You can just watch me dance.” You wink at him before leaning back on your knees and pulling the string on your top so it falls down your body, your tits spilling free. Eric’s eyes sparkle and his tongue darts out to wet his lips as he looks up at you like he hasn’t seen multiple pairs of boobs just within the last hour.

You pull the bottom string free and then toss it to the side as you push yourself up on your 8 inch heels. You sway toward the pole, running your fingers through your hair as you purposefully wiggle the fat of your ass. You grab onto the metal and roll your body before swinging your foot around it so you can climb up. You lock your legs together and lean backward, suspending yourself in the air. You watch as Eric pulls out a roll of cash and throws a huge stack of ones followed by several twenty’s. You grab onto your tits and jiggle them for him before titling yourself back up to grab onto the pole. You timed it perfectly so when the beat dropped so did you, right from the top onto the ground in the splits. Eric claps, which you find absolutely adorable because who the fuck claps in a strip club? And then he throws a literal hundred dollar bill onto your stage right as your first song ends. You tease him all through the next song, “Closer” by Nine Inch Nails and when you’re leaning over to press your tits into his face he gives you this dopey smile and tells you that he loves the songs you choose. After your set is done you offer him a dance, and he insists on a private room.

You pull the thick red curtain back so you can lead him into the sectioned off area of the club. There’s walls on all three sides and an open face that’s completely blocked by curtains. You can’t help but giggle at the way he stands there awkwardly surveying the room. You can tell he’s never done this before.

“This your first time?” You grab onto a piece of your hair and twirl it, looking up at him through your lashes. He’s even taller than you thought he was and you have to stop yourself from clenching your thighs when how easily he could toss you around crosses your mind. You have no idea how you’re going to get through the next thirty minutes without getting turned on. You already are.

“Yeah. I’m just not sure how it works.” He chuckles lightly as he rubs the back of his neck but there’s this glint in his eye that tells you he isn’t going to make this any easier on you or your tiny thong.

“Well, why don’t you just sit down on the couch and I can dance for you?” You grab his hand and guide him to the couch, encouraging him to sit down. He obliges you and you lower yourself into his lap with your legs hanging over his. You’re back in your top now, but it leaves little to be desired and you feel your body heat as his eyes rake over you. One of his large hands lands on your thigh and he gives you a questioning look, instead of answering him verbally you swing your leg over his to straddle him and grab onto both of his hands, resting them on your hips. You throw your arms over his shoulders and grind down on him lightly and it has his grip on you tightening.

“I don’t know the rules and you’re making it really hard for me to control myself already.” Eric’s voice is a deep rumble that runs straight to your core and god you don’t usually let customers touch you like this but you’re starting to wonder if you can stop yourself from fucking him right here.

“Wanna know a little secret, Eric?” You ghost your lips across his pierced ear and you can feel his skin break out into goosebumps.

“Yeah.” He groans when you grind down on him harder this time, his grip on you turning almost bruising.

“I don’t usually let guys touch me, even for money, but you? You can touch me as much as you want.” You run your nose down his jaw before pulling away from him, flipping around on his lap and pushing yourself onto your feet. You roll your body and shake your ass for him while pulling your top off again. You shimmy back onto his lap with your back pressed to his chest and grind against his now hard bulge. You can’t help the little whine that escapes you. His large tattooed hands grip onto your tits and that’s when you lose all sense of reality.

“I really liked your songs, ya know?” Eric’s breath tingles against your neck, his lips just barely brushing your skin. “You’re the only girl here I wanted to talk to.”

“Yeah? You’re the only guy I’ve ever seen in here that I actually wanted to dance for.” You throw your hands behind your back so you can lace them behind his head as you continue to wind on his lap. “And it’s so fucking against the rules but I’d let you fuck me right here.” You lean your head back so you can look up into his eyes and his expression has changed drastically, it was like your words flipped a switch inside of him and he wants nothing more to eat you alive.

“Well, I wouldn’t want to get you in trouble, bunny.” He chuckles and brings a finger up to your cheek. He runs it down your face to your jaw before ghosting it over your lips and you can’t help but dart your tongue out to lick the pad of his finger. “Let me take you home with me.”

“Well, I’m not really supposed to do that either. But I really feel like breaking some fucking rules tonight.” You wind your hips in a circle and his cock slides perfectly between your thong covered ass.

“They can’t be too mad if I pay them off, right?” He squeezes your boob, rolling your nipple between his fingertips.

“That would cost a lot. You’re hot enough to lose my job over. There’s other clubs. I want you to fuck me.” You whine and pull the strings of your bottoms so they fall down your hips. You never thought you’d be here, sitting on a customers lap begging him to fuck you like a bitch in heat. But something about this man was making you lose all rationality.

“Money isn’t an issue for me baby. Hell, I’ll get you out of here permanently if you want.” He runs that perfect nose along the column of your throat, inhaling the expensive perfume one of your regulars bought you a few months back. “And you don’t need to beg, the minute I saw you I knew I’d give you anything you asked for.”

“Fuck, Those are some big promises, honey.” You giggle, sugary sweet, and it makes him melt. He grabs onto your hips and pushes you to stand, your tiny thong falling at your feet, leaving you exposed to him. Eric grabs onto the globes of your ass and spreads them open, your pussy lips coming apart with a click from how wet you are.

“Would you look at that? So fucking perfect.” He grips onto your hips to turn you around, making sure to steady you when you stumble in your heels. You watch with wide eyes as he reaches for his playboy bunny belt buckle and your jaw practically drops to the floor when he pulls his cock out. It’s fucking huge and pierced. “I don’t make promises I can’t keep, bunny. Come sit on it.”

Eric pulls you forward and you straddle him, your knees sinking into the leather of the couch. He grips onto his shaft and runs it through your wetness, the balls of his piercing bumping against your clit. He taps the head against your sensitive bud before lining up with your entrance and slowly pushing inside your wet walls. But it’s not enough, you want to feel the burn of the stretch while he splits you open so you slam your hips down onto his, taking him to the hilt in one thrust. It nearly knocks the wind out of you and a moan so loud that the music barely drowns it out.

“Oh fuck, you’re so fucking tight.” Eric grips onto your ass and bounces you up and down on his cock as he stares into your eyes deeply. “You sure nobody is gonna come in here?”

“Nobody will, they’re definitely watching on the cameras and I’m definitely fucked as soon as we walk out of here but they’ll let it play out.” It’s like you gave him the green light because he plants his feet firmly on the ground and starts to fuck up into you. He grips onto your throat so he can pull your lips to his in a filthy kiss, not wasting any time intertwining your tongues together. The metal bar in his cock caresses your walls as his thick head bullies your g-spot and your toes curl in your boots. “Choke me harder.”

“Yeah? You like it rough, bunny? I’m going to have so much fun with you.” Eric squeezes your throat tighter and his free hand comes to run circles on your clit with his thumb. The way he’s talking about you like he already owns you combined with the pleasure he’s giving you has you already teetering towards the edge. “I’m gonna keep you, make you my pretty little fuck doll. You want that?”

“Yes, fuck yes.” You whine, drool starting to drip down your chin as your eyes roll back. Your manicured fingers scratch at his back through his shirt and you wouldn’t be surprised if it has tiny rips in it by the end of this.

“Look at me when you fall apart on my cock.” Eric grunts as he shifts his hips so he’s fucking into you even deeper and it has euphoria washing over your entire body the minute your eyes lock with his. Your pussy clenches around his cock like a vise grip and you moan so loudly there’s no way it can’t be heard outside of this room. But you’re way past giving a fuck. “Oh, that’s a good bunny, come for me.”

“Oh my f-fucking god! Fuckkkk me!” Eric’s thrusts don’t let up as he chases his own high, his hands grip onto your ass again and he’s practically folded in half on the couch as he bounces you like a fuck toy on his dick.

“I’m gonna fucking come.” Eric grunts before he’s pressing your hips flush against yours with his cock twitching inside you. You watch as he throws his head back, exposing his tattooed neck and you can’t help but lean forward and bite down on it. “Fuck yes, fucking bite me.”

You suck and bite on his skin until he goes limp underneath you, panting as he tries to catch his breath. He pushes himself up with his cock still nestled inside of you before pulling you close so he can kiss you with a passion no man ever has before. Who was this guy? And why did you never want to leave him?

“Alright, we should get out of here so I can go lose my job.” You chuckle as you stand up and grab your bikini, tying it back on while Eric tucks himself back into his pants. He comes to stand in front of you, taking your face into his hands.

“I meant that shit I said. I know we don’t know each other, hell, I don’t even know your real name. But come home with me, I’ll pay off these assholes and buy you whatever you want.” Eric smiles at you so sweetly you feel like you’re going to melt into the beer soaked carpet and how can you say no?

“Fuck it. Let’s go.” You giggle and push yourself up on your tiptoes to kiss him before pulling him out to face the music.

You definitely lost your job that night. But Eric fucked you so good you couldn’t even bring it in yourself to care. And he kept his promise. He kept you as his little doll and gave you everything your heart could ever desire.

Tagging a few moots who might be interested: @nailbatanddungeon @myspacebrat @ghoul-friendz @taintandviolent

Divider is by @cafekitsune

[eumivrse]

FUCK ME LIKE YOU MAD AT ME BABY (I NEED A FREAK TO DRIVE ME CRAZY!)

rough/angry sex ft. gojo, geto, nanami, toji, choso

warning(s) drunk sex + spanking (gojo), orgasm denial (geto), jealous sex + light bondage (nanami), car sex (toji), spitting + choking (choso), lowkey toxic, lots of degrading words, overstim, mention of safe word, breeding, creampie, squirting, cervix kissing, reader calls nanami ‘sir’ once, JUST A LOT OF SMUT IDK

note i’ve been equally horny for all of them lately ngl. also the title is so long but the song is stuck in my head ;0

tags @kurosaaki

GOJO

it takes a lot to piss satoru off. he lets things slide half due to his lack of ability to tell that people are mocking him and the other half because of his huge ego.

but there’s always that once in a blue moon moment when he comes home from work, mind already filled with irrational anger. and it just happens to be the same day you have your weekly night out with your girlfriends and are out until the ungodly hours of the night.

and of course that’s fine and all, but when he saw you stumbling into your doorstep tipsy at 3 in the morning, the word rational has been far blotted out of his dictionary. he’d already drank half a bottle of wine by himself at this point from drowning in his sorrows and satoru is the mere personification of a lightweight.

it wasn’t long until your face is buried against your leather couch, ass up as he pounded into you.

drool seeped out the corner of your mouth, babbling, “satoru-“ your moans were muffled, your head forced down on the couch by his huge hand while he slams his pelvis against your ass, cock sliding in with ease. he didn’t even talk to you— as soon as you were ready to give him a hug, he flipped you over the couch and pulled up the cute little skirt you decided to wear today, pulling your panties over one ass cheek to not bother himself with taking all your clothes off.

he struck your ass with his palm, then kneaded the plump to ail the pain. “gonna cum for me, princess? hm?” you nearly shrieked when he slapped you again, this time with more force inflicted. but you weren’t going to lie— having him treat you like this is more like a gift than it is a punishment.

“yes…” your voice shrunk, heavy breaths in sync with his thrusts. clawing onto nothing, you bit the inside of your cheek, suppressing your loud moans, still sober enough to realize that it’s late and your neighbors are fast asleep.

he pulled out almost completely, leaving you hollow until he pistoned into you by pulling your waist against him, the head of his cock nearly prodding onto your cervix. “fuck… i love your slutty pussy, milking so— fuck— so well...” satoru’s inability to shut the fuck up even when he’s this close to cumming is something that continues to amaze you.

starting painfully slow, his impatience eventually took over him and continued to fuck into you with deep, yet quick thrusts that happened to hit your spot, fluid spurting out of your hole and onto his abdomen. you gasp, legs trembling while satoru’s hips stuttered, cock twitching inside of you.

“yeah, yeah, yeah— ah god…” warm cum filled you full, some leaking out and dribbling down on the couch. he gave your ass one more struck, and you yelp from the prickling pain.

“satoru?” you mumble, turning your head slightly until he started moving his hips again, leaving you speechless.

he yanks you by the elbow, pinning your back against his chest, whispering against the shell of your ear, “not done yet, doll.”

GETO

“suguru, please…” you plead, eyes glossed with tears. you’re sitting on top of his lap, cock stretching your walls as his thumb brushed over your clit with lazy circles.

he just hummed, ignoring your pleas as he grabs the pudge of your hips, lifting them up and thrusting up into you, his balls slapping in between your ass cheeks.

you’ve been giving him the cold shoulder all week, all because of you started a petty argument about schedule differences. you knew he was busy, but his lack of communication was what pissed you off. on the other hand, he thought you were being unfair— he never complained when you had to work more hours than normal.

so if his words weren’t enough to get that in your head, then maybe he’ll just fuck it into you.

you rest your chin on his shoulder, hands draped around him as he kept a tight grip on your waist, switching between forcing you down on his cock and ramming into you himself by dragging his hips up and down. he gnaws on your shoulder, engraving your skin with his teeth marks.

“i wonder where you learned how to speak to me like that, love…” he breathes softly. his voice still has that tinge of tenderness in it, but you knew he was at his limit from the way he has that bruising grasp on you.

referring to the demeaning words you called him during your little quarrel the other day, he continues, “would you like it too if i talked to you like that?” when you didn’t respond, he wrapped his hand around the back of your neck, pulling you into making eye contact with him.

“answer.” his firm remark only turned you on, whining with a frail, “yes please.” at this point you weren’t even angry anymore— you were so needy and frustrated from the denial of release.

he chuckles, a smug smirk plastered across his face, single strands of his raven hair stuck on his forehead. “you really wanna know what i think about you?” he shifts his hips ever so slightly, knowing damn well it pushes you further into orgasm.

sighing, he cupped your cheek with his palm. “whore.” he tapped your cheek with force, not enough that it was painful, but it was degrading with no question. “slut.” he slaps your face again and grabs your cheeks, your lips puckering from the pressure.

he jerks up again, feeling him stretch you so deliciously that you couldn’t bare to hold it anymore, and suguru can tell. he clicks his tongue on the roof of his mouth, “cock hungry filthy girl,” he forces your face down to see with your own two eyes how fucking wet your pussy is for him despite swearing you hated him just hours ago.

letting go of your flustered face, you slurred, “please let me cum, suguru…” asking him in the first place was your first mistake, he only pressed his thumb onto your clit once more, taunting you.

he smiles, feigning innocence. “no.”

NANAMI

kento is a patient man. he considers himself grounded with his emotions, but something in the air today made him act more crass than he usually would in this situation.

long story short, you were being a little too friendly with gojo during the work dinner where everyone else could see, and it didn’t help that you were defending yourself instead of owning up to it when he brought it up on the way home.

it was embarassing for him— made him seem like a little bitch that some other man had his arm around you, whispering jokes against your ear while you giggled foolishly as if your husband wasn’t sitting across from you.

so you should’ve seen it coming that he wouldn’t just leave you off the hook when you got home.

it wasn’t long until your clothes are scattered all over the master’s bedroom, legs pinned against your chest as he pummeled into you, wet cunt clenching around him like you wanted this to happen.

the sheets were stained with puddles and splatters of your sweet release, his thighs and your pussy coated with a mix of his cum and your slick.

one, two, three, four orgasms? you couldn’t even count anymore. your cunt was drooling, stuffed full with his cum, it was impressive how he’s still drilling into you with such ease.

kento is pushing on the back of your thighs to keep your pussy wide open, your wrists bounded with his leopard tie that coiled around the headboard railing. “hah-“ he grunts, “dirty girl. you have no idea how much i wanted to fucking kill that idiot for even touching you.” he grits his teeth when he felt your walls squeeze onto him, his sweat dripping from his forehead down to your tummy.

your mind was so blank, every degrading word he’s saying seemed stifled, apparent by your eyes knocking to the back of your head and the drool trickling down the corner of your lip. the only thing leaving your mouth were moans of his name and curses, you were starting to see stars as the pit of your abdomen tightened, a sign that you’re close.

“kento— i- hahhh—” your attempt on a warning had no purpose as clear liquid gushed out of you, and the shock of your release rippled throughout your body, leaving you numb. kento only fucked into you deeper and rougher, his fat veiny cock pressing against your cervix.

“squirted again?” he’s laughing, followed by a groan when he felt that familiar twitch on his cock. “do you think gojo can make you squirt for him like this, hm?” that question was just plain vulgar, but he’s expecting an answer nonetheless.

you hold onto the silk restraining you, sniffling, “no… only you, sir.” your loving, tired tone only put him in the state of euphoria, closing his eyes shut as cum coated your cervix, keeping himself plugged into you.

as he pulled out, thick ropes of white, viscous fluid leaked out your hole and down your ass, taking a dollop to shove it in your mouth. you willingly take his fingers in between your lips, licking him clean.

you thought he was done this time— until he brought the fingers that were in your mouth down to your lower extremities, caressing your clit as he slid himself inside you once more. you sigh, “kento— i don’t think i can anymore…” every muscle in your body felt sore, but you still couldn’t bring yourself to say that word to indicate you want this done and over.

he pretended he didn’t hear your pleas, rasping as he pried your legs further apart, resisting your reflex to close them, “remember this when you decide to fucking flirt with another man again, slut.”

TOJI

this has to have been the third or fourth breakup in a span of 2 years dating this man. it just proved that you weren’t compatible for each other and the differing types of communication you two were comfortable with were clashing in the worst ways possible.

you were over it and decided to end it officially— for good.

however, toji wasn’t ready to let you go that easily.

his familiar black sedan was parked on the curb in front of your house when your first date after being finally single dropped you off. and of course, trying to stand your ground, you tried to tell him that you were done. to leave you alone or you’ll call the authorities.

but as they say, old habits die hard.

somehow you both ended up in his back seat, bouncing on his cock like you weren’t just trying to kick him out your driveway.

how else would have this toxic relationship lasted this long anyways if it wasn’t for the sex?

he chuckles, your nipple squeezed in between his lips, “what were you trying to say again? you’ll get a restraining order?” you were holding onto the handle of the car door for leverage as he groped your tit and smacked it, fascinated at the way it jiggled.

you hiss at the sting, “stop talking.” your collarbones were still littered with his love marks from previous nights and he notices them, “did your date even get a kiss tonight?” he teases as he took a chunk of your ass, manipulating your hips to move swifter in speed.

it was difficult to talk when he keeps slamming you down to the base of his cock, the sound of your slick smacking on his pelvis. “god— what is it— to you?” the incoherence with your words only provoked a laugh out of your ex, he thought it was funny how desperate you were trying to move on when it’s obvious you’d always go back to him at the end of the day.

you bite your lower lip, worried that someone outside could hear, but would that really help when the way his car is shaking gives it away?

he sneers, pulling your shoulder to draw you against his chest, face so close to his that you can feel his breath. with one last thrust, you yelped, keeping the head of his cock nestled deep in your cunt. “it’s just sad, babe.” he pouts, “you didn’t even bother to invite that bastard inside your house and instead would rather fuck your ex? was the date that bad?”

your mind was hazed, nodding before reaching in for a longing kiss, toji smirking against your lips. the date wasn’t bad at all but it was kind of a dud too— it just didn’t hit the same. nothing can compare to this.

he struck your ass once before gripping onto it again, moving your hips in accordance to his thrusts, tears welling up in your eyes as his cock jabbed against your sweet spot over and over. pulling away from the kiss, you chant his name like a mantra, “toji, fuck, mm- m’ gonna cum”

toji grunts, “okay, love. make a mess on my cock.” the familiar rasp in his voice was what set you off, and he was waiting for you to recuperate a bit from your orgasm before pulling your hips down once more, cock balls deep as he emptied himself inside of you.

toji curses and moans your name as you lean down for another wet kiss, feeling his cum pool in the pit of your stomach.

parting, he breathes, “still thinking of getting that restraining order?”

CHOSO

choso already wasn’t having a good day for some odd reason. maybe the weather? didn’t matter either way. and of course, being the sweet girlfriend that you are, you tried your best to distract him from whatever was bothering him.

when warm food didn’t work, you tried turning on the tv, seeking for some sort of entertainment. well— you could say it worked in his favor, not because of what was on the screen, but because the boring ass movie was what brought you to the present.

your panties were peeled to the side as choso freely slid his long cock in and out of your hole with ease, his sweats just hanging below his waist, moaning at how warm you are around him. “oh yeah- mm- feels good,” he reveres, whimpering as he hovered over your face.

choso almost never initiates sex— you usually do, but oh does it feel ten times better when he’s pent up and uses you as an outlet to take his stress out on.

your facial expression was scrunched, pursing your lips from how deliciously you were being split in half. choso had one of your legs over his shoulder and him leaning down, which pushed your leg closer to your chest— allowed his cock to plunge into you in angles unimaginable, leaving your jaw hung open.

choso’s mauve eyes were piercing onto yours as he collects saliva in his mouth, then sticks his tongue out, the globe of his spit making it straight down your mouth. he forces your mouth close, “swallow, pretty.” watching you as his saliva made its way down your throat.

you caress his cheek, “use me, choso.” if this is what gets him out of whatever negativity he’s feeling then you’re willing to let him take it out on you.

pecking him on the small of his cheek, he sits up, finding leverage by grabbing onto your tits, groping on them while he thrusts into you with more impact, apparent by the sinful slapping noises that followed. you tuck your chin in to get a closer look of how he’s stretching you, watching as his spit lands on your clit, using two of his fingers to rub it in, reveling at the way its so puffy and just… so wet.

his other hand skimmed from your tit to around your neck, the pads of his fingers pressing on the side, making sure he doesn’t restrict your airways completely. he’s so fucking turned on by the way your face looks, eyes half lidded, lips swole and tinted from biting onto them so much.

you whine, voice faint from the hand around your throat. “so deep…” your leg was still over his shoulder, his cock hammering into you and right up against your g-spot.

“fuck, that’s it— take me in just like that, fuck—“ he was nearing his release, holding it in so you could go first, rushing through your orgasm by swiping your clit as he slacked his hips to give himself time. always so sweet even when handling you like this.

you were so cock drunk that your vision went stark, a huge weight lifting off your body when you let it all out, your slippery cunt making it easier for choso to go ahead and lodge his cock deep enough to jam his cum in, with the intent of not leaving a drop wasted.

he keeps himself wedged inside you, letting go of your leg and neck, tapping at your clit with his fingers for one last tease. you stuck your tongue out, choso grabbing your tear stained face.

“did that feel good, baby?” he asks and you nod sheepishly, unable to speak from his hold and your aching throat.

another ball of spit landed on your tongue and you swallow with that vulnerable look on your face. he chuckles, “what a nasty girl.”

[comatosebunny09]

heavy | sylus q.

— summary: who takes care of the person busy caring for everyone else? sylus. the answer is sylus. — cw: female!reader, fingering, unprotected intercourse, naughty things done in a bathtub, creampie, alcohol mention, pet names, slight choking, allusions to depression and anxiety, explicit language, praise kink, not proofread, kinda rough sex, mdni — wc: ~3.4K — dividers by: @grabby-smitten — now playing: truman show - merges & l3gion

It begins with a steady pressure behind your eyes. 

Untreated, it blossoms into something more intense, seeping through your temples like spilled liquid, and the pain borders unbearable. You can’t focus on your work, the harsh glow of your monitor worsening your plight.

You snatch your glasses from your face. Attempt to ease the pressure with kneading fingers. Pinch the bridge of your nose. Sigh. It’s useless; your vision blurs around the edges, and your head is pounding as if your brain’s seeking release from your skull.

You don’t notice Captain Jenna behind you. Jump when she comes to you in the form of a firm hand on your shoulder, voice soft. “You should go home to get some rest,” she suggests through a pitying smile.

You don’t protest. There’s more to her words than a simple plea. It’s an order, and you’re smiling small, already gathering your things and slinking out of your cubicle. 

You’re grateful for the reprieve. Maybe a restart will help ease the weight off your shoulders.

—

Something smells divine.

It jumpstarts your appetite, the rich scent of herbs and meat seeping through the cracks of your apartment door. You didn’t realize how hungry you were, your stomach snarling whilst you ease your key into the lock. 

You can’t remember if you left something in the oven. Can’t be bothered to recall much of anything, your head still pulsing like a war drum. Your curiosities are sated once you slide into your home, and the aroma is stronger here. Hearty, nearly lifting you into the air to carry you to the kitchen like one of those old-school cartoons.

You meander into your kitchen after dropping your pack by the door—by a pair of designer, red-stained loafers twice the size of your own feet. Your suspicions are confirmed when you catch sight of a familiar shock of white and broad shoulders nestled between your humble decor and drab cabinets.

Never mind how he got here because you’re reining in a giggle. He’s wearing the frilly Kiss Me apron you got him as a joke gift a few months back. Humming something, bobbing his head before he acknowledges you over a broad shoulder. His scarlet eyes are mirthful, and the soft grate of his voice is enough to put you to sleep.

“You’re home early.”

You smile, tired and swollen-eyed, leaning against the doorframe. Study him over crossed arms. He’s busy with something on the stove. Concocting something delicious, and your stomach reminds you that it’s empty and you’re cruel.

“Jenna kicked me out.”

His shoulders shake with a chuckle when he returns his attention to the pot and wooden spoon in his hands. “Good. I take it you’ve only sustained yourself on coffee and air today.” Stopping, he peers at you again, a knowing lift to his brow. 

You sputter, the heat of embarrassment prickling your neck. He knows you too well. You’re an ass who often neglects yourself, pushing food and sleep to the backburner in favor of shouldering everyone else’s burdens. 

You pout, caught red-handed. The man in your kitchen chuckles. Sets the spoon down, and you watch him stride across the tiles for something. 

He comes to you with a bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon, already pouring the red, viscid fluid into a wine glass. Slender fingers brush over yours when he eases the glass into your hand. He angles himself to kiss you, full-bodied and red-blooded on the lips. A kiss that leaves you reeling. Craving more, the warm scent of his skin hijacking your senses as you tug on the collar of his shirt.

You whine when he pulls away, and he’s all smug smiles that crease the corners of his eyes when he steps back to tend to dinner.

A tide of warmth wades over your skin. You smile against the rim of your glass, grateful to have someone who knows you sometimes better than you know yourself.

Drinking might not be the best decision for you right now. But you haven’t the heart to tell him, watching with all the fondness of the world as he buzzes around the kitchen like a Disney princess.

—

Dinner will be ready in 30.

In the meantime, Sylus shepherds you into your bathroom, insisting you settle in with a bath. 

It’s lavender-scented inside your bathroom, the warm, wet steam washing over your cheeks. Greeted by the dull hum of the ventilation and the sound of rain lazily falling onto the world beyond your window.

You’re exhausted and hanging on by a thread. Don’t think you could manage the task of undressing on your own. So, he’s gentle as he props you on your counter, stripping you of your clothes, touching you like something to be revered.

His lashes bow when he swoops in to adorn your bare shoulders and the swell of your chest with kisses. Your body responds in kind when he nears your pebbling nipples, though he doesn’t grace them with the lazy drag of his lips. 

He promised you he would be good. At least until you’re washed up, fed, and comfortable.

He brands your skin to the crooks of your elbows, down to your wrists, your fingers. Catches your gaze when he kisses between the peaks and valleys of your knuckles, and the fire that burns beneath his irises sets your insides alight. 

Broad palms move down your sides, perch on your hips. He hefts you up with one hand fastened to your rear, and your arms and legs unconsciously shoot out to encircle him. He chuckles, swinging you ‘round, walking you to the tub. You’re the biggest baby when you’re tired, but he would never complain. He prefers you like this—all supple and pliant, desperate for the feel of his body against yours.

You watch the rose petals he sprinkled in your bathwater cling to your skin once you’re inside. And it works as a soothing balm through your person, the frothy water embracing you like a warm hug at the end of a tedious day. 

You sigh heavily, leaning back against the tub’s wall. Your eyes slide shut. You’re about to succumb to the pretty girls of slumber when the sound of shifting fabric alarms you. 

Sylus moves to leave, but your hands dart out to ensnare his wrist. He glances at you over his shoulder, a question hanging between his brows. 

“Stay,” you urge with a pout. Throw in watering puppy eyes for dramatic effect, laying the guilt on thick. 

He chuckles something hearty, settling onto the floor beside you. “I figured you could use some alone time. Besides, I’ve got dinner going. Do you want me to burn it? Cajun wasn’t on tonight’s menu, sweetheart.”

You huff. “You set a timer, right? It’ll be fine.” 

Truth is, he’s the only thing keeping you tethered to this plane right now. A constant in a world filled with turmoil. Your security blanket. You never mind him impeding on your time, your space.

“Shall I help you bathe, then?” He doesn’t await your response, already reaching across you for your body wash and loofah. 

He’s tender as he works the soap into a rich lather over your shoulders. Honey-slow, dipping between the valley of your breasts, snickering when you instinctively arch into his touch when the material catches on your nipples. Once he’s satisfied your upper body is thoroughly saturated with suds, he maneuvers himself onto his haunches on the floor.

“Sit up,” Sylus instructs. You sluggishly obey, bowing forward to grant him access to your back. 

Lids shuttered, a content hum eases from your throat as he works out the knots and strain of your back. Smooths the loofah down the ridges of your spine, encircling one shoulder blade before moving onto the other. He’s gifted, trained in the art of your body. Knows just where to touch, to massage to get the cogs in your mind turning and your breaths evening out.

He dips the loofah into the water, and you giggle as it slides between the swell of your ass and the tub’s floor.

“Well, I can’t exactly get you clean when you’re sitting down like this.” 

Your gaze shifts to his. His eyes darken with something familiar, a smirk curving one corner of his lips as he salaciously cocks his head. 

You feel a pull in your tummy, and your lashes flutter, lips parting slightly. Without thinking, you position yourself onto your hands and knees, the water lazily sloshing about and licking your thighs. Curiously, you peer at him from over your shoulder and waggle your ass, playfully signaling for him to finish up.

Resigned, amused, Sylus works the loofah over the globes of your ass. Up and down the backs of your thighs. And it’s purposeful when, with each pass, he grazes your fat labia, peeking through the plush of your thighs. You shudder each time, a pleasant sigh escaping your mouth, and you wiggle to chase the harsh drag of the loofah, if only for him to mistakingly graze your clit with it.

He tsks behind you. “Sweetheart, we agreed this would only be a harmless little bath.”

How harmless could he expect it to be with him looking at you like that? Touching you like that, his palm branding your thigh whilst an errant thumb kneads the muscle there, dangerously close to the outskirts of your cunt?

“I changed my mind,” you relent in a breathy, needy whisper. And you’re rocking your hips this way and that, trying to lure his thumb into the catch of your pussy.

He laughs again, the sound of it murky, and you feel it furling in your chest. “As you wish.”

Your body vibrates with anticipation. You’re not made to wait long, a virile, wide palm stroking your legs apart. Soon after, you feel his thumb stroking down the expanse of your slit, and you jump, a shudder racking through you.

“Easy, darling,” he coos. Voice is thick as bourbon, and his thumb even thicker as he dips just the tip of it into your puckering sex.

He moves maddeningly slow as he collects some of your nectar on his thumb, smoothing it between your folds in search of your clit. He finds it with laser precision, stroking the distended pearl to life with meticulous circles that leave you baring down on nothing and moaning against the grit of your teeth.

A hand fastens around your hip. Massages one of your cheeks, holding you steady whilst he fucks his thumb into you slow and consistent, and the sticky squelch of your cunt soon fills the atmosphere as he works you into a mess of shaking tendons and sighs of “yes, yes, please. More. Fuck.”

Spurred by your words, he alternates between fingering you—trading out his thumb for his index and middle digits—and rubbing your clit. Ducks in to blister your rear with kisses, and you jerk, hypersensitive to every sensation, every sound. He pants softly behind you. Enjoys himself, watching you fall apart around his fingers, his girth pushing against the seam of his pants. He palms himself, kissing closer to your labia, the scent of it bewitching, and he wills himself not to add his tongue into the fray.  

He curls and pistons his fingers inside you, a frothy ring of lubricant collecting around the base of his digits. He eases a palm over the curve of your stomach to massage your tits and pluck your nipples, sweltering breaths fanning across your spine. 

You’re pushed closer to the precipice, towards that slurry edge of bliss. He murmurs words of praise against your skin, and you hump against his fingers like a beast in heat, chasing that sparkling rush. Chasing that crest of pleasure in your stomach, eyes screwed shut. Just a little longer. Just—

“Cum for me, sweetheart,” Sylus quietly demands, pressing against that unfathomable knot of pleasure inside you. 

And as if he has some sort of hold on your body, the world falls away from you at his behest. Your orgasm ripples through you, spilling like lava, pooling in your stomach, and dripping to your extremities. Your mouth opens with a gasp. A shaky exhale with his name in it, and you pitch forward, catching yourself on your hands last minute before you nosedive into the water. 

He laughs behind you, roosting one hand on your hip and the other on your stomach to steady you. “Good girl,” he croons, rubbing your pulsing cunt with his fingers. “You look so fucking sexy when cum like that.”

You shiver, clearly overstimulated, and he resigns to help ease you back onto your rear in the bathtub, kissing the sensitive space behind your ear. 

He lures you into a languid kiss with gentle fingers beneath your chin. Licks into your mouth, groaning his approval as you lazily return his affections, loose-limbed and spent.

You prop the back of your head on the tub’s rim, lips still sealed to his, and Sylus rubs up and down your body to encourage you back down from the clouds. You whimper into his mouth when he pinches your nipples, catching his hands to twine your fingers together, the stimulation too much. 

He greedily milks what remains of your voice from your throat before drawing away from your lips with a sticky click to pepper your throat and shoulder with apologetic kisses. 

When your heart beats something steady, and your labored breaths slide into something more even, Sylus peels away. “Dinner’s ready,” he purrs, grin all toothy, smug.

You track his movements to the door through hooded eyes, a satisfied cant to your lips whilst you sink to your chin into the water, mind a delicious slurry and the tension between your shoulders nearly gone.

—

“You’re insatiable,” he breathes, hot and wanton, against your hinged-open mouth. 

You have him notched between your splayed legs on the kitchen counter, and his hands are on an unhurried mission over your thighs whilst you kiss him. Your arms snake about his shoulders, fingers, easing into delicate locks of white, and you slant your mouth possessively over his, sealing your bodies together.

Dinner cools on the stovetop. Stuffed chicken breasts, garlic mashed potatoes, roasted asparagus. All a labor of love that you promise to consume after you’ve consumed him, pushing your greedy tongue into his mouth.

His groan vibrates your tongue whilst his thumbs ease over the inner cut of your thighs, and he grazes your outer labia with each pass, sending satisfying jolts of electricity throughout.

The bath renewed you. Cleared the fog from your mind, stoked the fire of your libido. Which is why you ambushed him in the kitchen, seducing him into fucking you when he was just about to set the table. 

Your body rolls like waves licking the shore against his, your nipples rubbing against the harsh fabric of his shirt. 

He’d peeled the straps of your negligee down your shoulders, bunching the neckline beneath your tits. 

“Fuck me,” you exhale, grappling with the catch of his belt. Hands perched on your waist, he peers into your eyes, brows knit with the strain of reining in his desire.

“Can I at least get you to the bed first,” he breathes, gritting his teeth when your lips brand his Adam’s apple.

“Nope.” You finally pull his belt free, and you busy yourself with unbuttoning his pants.

He chuckles darkly. Shakily, propping his hands on the countertop on either side of your thighs, letting you do terribly distracting things to his neck with your mouth. He sucks in a breath when you palm him, hand hot and searing against the cotton of his briefs. Cranes his head back, and you exhale all triumphantly against his throat, hand dipping beneath the elastic waistband to fish him from the confines of his underwear.

“Fuck,” he curses through swollen lips. Cheeks dust with a pretty shade of crimson, and he twitches each time your hand smooths over the leaking tip of his cock. Each time you stroke down the shaft, back up to thumb his slit, smearing his pre-cum over him.

“Fuck me,” you order once more, licking behind his ear. Draw his lobe into your mouth to nibble it, and he groans something bitten off, a pliant mess of muscle and sinew beneath the artful glide of your hand.

With no further goading, Sylus encases your hips with his hands. Drags you impossibly closer toward the edge of the counter, replacing your hand on his cock with his. 

He strokes himself so well. Your mouth waters from the sight, your sticky, bare pussy clenching with anticipation. The predatory gleam in his eyes reads as one of restrained desire. Like a beast subdued behind a cage, giving you an out, a chance to escape.

You merely swallow, enraptured by the sight of him so desperate for you. So eager when, moments ago, he was resistant to your temptation. He fists himself once more, his weighted hand swallowing up the bulk of his cock. He taps his heavy dick against your folds, the sensation curving your spine and siphoning an unbidden whimper from your lips.

He undulates his hips, rubbing himself between your folds, saturating his turgid flesh with your essence. And oh, it feels so good when his tip bumps the pucker of your pussy. He teases you with the prospect of fucking you proper, drawing himself out to repeat the motion from before, each time digging a little deeper.

When he finally eases home, nestled deep in the hot channel of your sex, your rigid walls ravenously sucking him in, you share a breath out. His chest heaves when he looks at you. The need that lurks behind his gaze makes your cunt flutter, and his responding groan is strained with the effort of keeping still inside you.

You lean back on your hands. Give him the go-ahead with a flicker of your lashes, and then he’s moving inside you. Fucking into you like a well-oiled machine, and he lifts the hem of his shirt to watch your union. 

You watch the steady ripple of his abs, wanting to chase the sweat that beads between them with your tongue. For now, you’ll settle for enjoying the feel of him. Throw your head back, your heels hooking into the backs of his thighs, keeping him in motion. Refusing to let him go. 

“Fuck,” he sighs. “Fuck, do you know what you do to me?” 

A sweltering hand curls around your neck, squeezing with enough pressure to bring your pulse thrumming to your ears. His thumb finds the hang of your bottom lip, drawing your mouth open to ease it inside. Your tongue darts out to sample the taste of it. Wraps around the worn pad, and you close your lips around it to suck. 

He fucks into you harder, your eyes rolling back as his balls knock against your ass. Reluctantly draws his finger from the hot suction of your mouth, splaying his fingers down your sternum to where your bodies convulge. 

“You feel so fucking good, kitten,” Sylus breathes. Thumbs your clit, your body convulsing. “So good, squeezing me like that. Taking me like a big girl. Look at you. So fucking good. Ah, fuck.”

That sparkling feeling pools in your stomach again. You grit your teeth, bowing forward to roost a hand on his shoulder. Your gazes interlock, and he’s so fucking beautiful like this, that carefully constructed composure giving way to something primal. Animalistic, and his hair falls into his face as he grips your hip to the point of bruising, mooring you to the countertop. Keeping you steady for him to ravage you.

After some time of skin slapping and desperate moans saturating the air, he twitches inside you. Hips stutter. Head falls back while his mouth hangs open, and he sighs, so relieved with one final stroke, molten spurts of cum painting your insides a gooey white. Branding down the inner cut of your thighs, puddling on the countertop.

You tug him into your arms, blistering his neck with open-mouthed kisses and the soft rake of your teeth. He shudders, leaning into you, propped on his hands on the counter, face nestled between your breasts.

You share a laugh as you massage his scalp. Relieved. And you’re patient as he softens inside you, stroking over the broad expanse of his back, cooing affectionate words against the crown of his head.

[flickering-chandelier]

You Matter to Me

Pairing: Cassian x Reader

Summary: Reader is the mom friend, and she’s very good at it. While she is always taking care of everyone else, Cassian decides to be the one to take care of her. 

Based on this request! 🩷

Word Count: 2.6k

Cassian couldn’t help but laugh as you weaved your way through the dining room at the river house with Nyx on your hip, helping set up everything on the table while Rhysand and Feyre were finishing a meeting with Azriel and Amren in their study. 

“Oh, the wine!” you said suddenly. 

“Do you want me to get it?” Cassian asked. 

As he knew you would, you answered cheerfully, “Nope, I’ve got it.”

“At least let me hold the kid. I don’t want you falling down the stairs,” he said, reaching for Nyx and taking him from your arms before you could protest. 

You smiled at him before disappearing to the wine cellar. 

He was endlessly impressed by your incessant energy, never sitting down until everyone else was settled first, always the one to jump up and grab something if somebody needed it. Since you had come around, it felt like everything was always in order. 

Still, he couldn’t help but wonder if it was too much. If you were always taking care of everyone else, who would take care of you?

His attention was pulled when you glided back into the room, placing wine bottles on either side of the table, before the room filled with people, the rest of the inner circle spilling out of Rhysand’s study. 

Feyre smiled at Cassian, her arms outstretched to take Nyx. “I’m surprised she let you take him.”

“Practically had to wrestle him from her hands,” he teased, smiling at you as you sidled up next to Feyre. 

“He’s being dramatic,” you said. 

“Somehow, I don’t think he is,” Feyre smiled at you. “You don’t have to take care of us all the time, you know.”

You shrugged, your eyes shining as you smiled down at Nyx. “I don’t know how to act any other way.”

Maybe we should help change that, Cassian thought. 

Cassian’s eyes were on you all throughout dinner, as you laughed with Feyre, bouncing Nyx on your lap so she could eat. He hadn’t noticed before just how many things you did for everyone else. Feyre’s glass was empty, and likely before she even noticed herself, you were smiling at her, pouring more wine. Nyx knocked Azriel’s spoon off the table and in a heartbeat, you were handing him the clean one that you hadn’t used. Cassian himself unsurprisingly required another napkin and without looking up, you were reaching to pick one up and hand it to him across the table. 

It seemed effortless, like second nature, but he knew it couldn’t have been. It must be exhausting to think about everyone else. 

As dinner came to a close, you rose from your chair, collecting plates and dirty napkins. Feyre stood up to help, and Cassian found himself doing the same. Azriel looked at him with a raised brow, and Cassian just shrugged, snatching up Az’s discarded napkin and Nyx’s floor spoon. 

He followed you into the kitchen, where you already had the sink full of water and were soaking the plates. Feyre had gone back out to collect more from the table.

You looked surprised as you noticed him. “Do you need something?” You asked. 

Cassian tried not to be offended. “No. You think I would only come talk to you if I needed something?”

He tossed the spoon into the sink behind you and threw the fistfull of napkins on the counter to be washed before turning back to you, leaning against the counter where you were, his arm nearly touching yours. “I want to help,” he said quietly. “Put me to work.”

Shrugging, you said, “No, I just… Well, what are you doing?”

You waved your hand dismissively and turned away from him, going back to the sink. “You don’t have to do that.”

“So?”

Cassian moved around you, cutting off your path. You looked up at him exasperated, and he couldn’t keep the smirk off his face. “Neither do you! You don’t even live here.”

“You know who does live here?” Cassian asked, moving in front of you again as you tried to side step around him. “The High Lord and High Lady. You do know they have servants, too right?”

“Servants deserve a break,” you said, finally looking up into his eyes. 

“So do you,” he murmured. Without thinking, he reached forward and brushed a piece of hair that had fallen on your forehead behind your ear. 

He heard your breath catch and warmth spread through him. 

You opened your mouth to respond, but nothing came out. 

Cassian smirked again. “See? You know I’m right. Put me to work.”

You blinked, then rolling your eyes goodnaturedly, you said, “Fine. Can you grab the rest of the napkins from the table?”

He gladly did as you asked. 

---

From that day, Cassian made it his mission to be the one looking after you. 

Not that he would let you know that, of course. He tried to be stealthy about it, so you wouldn’t shut down the whole operation. 

Most of the normal group was outside at the river house, enjoying the warm summer day. Cassian sidled up next to you as you were talking to Feyre and handed you a glass of lemonade. 

“Oh!” you said, surprised, but clearly pleased. “Thank you.”

It looked like you had needed it too, because not long after, your glass was empty. Cassian broke off the conversation that he was having with Azriel and wandered over to you casually, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. “Having a good day?” He asked, pulling the glass from your hand as you smiled up at him. 

“I am.”

“Glad to hear it,” he beamed, before heading back into the house and filling the glass up again. 

When he returned with it, you raised your eyebrow. “What are you doing?” 

Cassian furrowed his brow as he passed you the lemonade. “What do you mean?”

Your eyes narrowed slightly, like you were studying him, but you brushed it off. “Nevermind. Thank you.”

“Anytime,” he smiled. “Really.”

---

Cassian was acting weird. 

Feyre had been your best friend for years, and you were pretty sure Cassian had talked to you more in the last few weeks than in all of the previous years combined. 

You could feel his eyes on you often, and he was popping up next to you seemingly constantly, refilling your drink or handing you a snack from the kitchen. He even seemed to know which snacks and drinks were your favorites, though you weren’t sure how he would have figured that out. 

It was sweet, you supposed. If you really let yourself stop to think about it, you were willing to admit that it was nice to be taken care of a little for once. You got so busy looking after everybody else, you truly couldn’t remember the last time somebody had cared to pay attention to what you needed. 

But, at the same time, you felt a little bad, and you couldn’t understand why on earth Cassian suddenly cared so much. 

Cassian himself interrupted your thoughts, coming up behind you and wrapping a shawl around your shoulders. You realized that you were holding your arms together over your stomach, shielding yourself from the evening wind. 

You raised an eyebrow at him in question. 

“What?” he smiled, his hands lingering for another moment on your shoulders. “You were shivering.”

“Was I, really?” You asked, surprised. “I hadn’t noticed.”

He leveled you with a remarkably serious expression, considering how easy going he always was. The two of you were back towards the river house, away from the rest of the group who were gathered in clumps around the rest of the yard, laughing and drinking. 

“How do you always notice what other people need, but you give no thought to yourself?” He asked, his eyes softening as he looked down at you. 

You grappled for an answer, feeling slightly paralyzed under his gaze. “I don’t know,” you finally said honestly.

Cassian offered you a sad smile, taking your hand in his and squeezing it briefly. “You hungry?” 

You laughed. “A little, I guess?”

He smirked, nodding his head to the house, then pulling you forward by the hand. 

The two of you reached the massive kitchen. You started rifling through the pantry and Cassian placed his hands on your hips, pulling you back against his chest. 

You embarrassingly let out a squeak of surprise. “What are you doing?” You asked, trying to twist around to look at him, but he pushed you toward the counter, spun you around and lifted you to sit on it. 

He grinned, his hands still on your hips as you gaped at him. His eyes were locked on yours, and you felt your heart racing, but you were trying desperately to not let him see it.  

“Stay,” he commanded teasingly as he finally stepped away, but you knew he meant it. 

As he rummaged through the kitchen, you tried to steady your breathing. You had to admit, you had been thinking about Cassian a lot more often lately. And that… what he just did… that would not help matters. 

By the time Cassian was back towering over you, you felt more normal. He presented your favorite snack with a smile. 

You took it, thanking him. He hopped up on the counter next to you, his shoulder brushing yours.

After eating in silence for a few moments, you turned to him. “How did you know this is my favorite?”

He shrugged, turning his smile on you. You tried to ignore the way that your heart melted. “I pay attention.”

“Why?” You couldn’t help but ask. 

Cassian seemed to contemplate for a moment, his easy smile gone. He finally looked back to you, his eyes smoldering, and said, “You matter to me.”

Your heart pounded in your chest as he gazed at you, your cheeks warming, and you unfortunately could not think of a single thing to say. 

Suddenly, footsteps were coming toward you and the trance was broken as you looked toward the door to find Feyre striding into the kitchen. 

She looked surprised to see the two of you sitting together, and you knew her well enough to understand what her answering smile meant. 

You fought the urge to roll your eyes, hopped off the counter, quickly thanked Cassian, and retreated back outside. 

---

Your mind had been reeling with thoughts of Cassian for days. Something in the air felt different between you in that kitchen, but you weren’t sure exactly what it meant. 

A loud knock on your door roused you from your ever spiraling thoughts. 

Cassian was grinning as you opened your apartment door, holding a bag of food out to you. “I hope you didn’t have lunch plans.”

You gaped at him. “You’re feeding me in my own house now?”

“I thought I’d mix things up a little bit,” he said, nodding his head inside. “So, are you going to let me in?”

After studying him for another moment, you stepped aside. He walked right past you, going to the kitchen table and spreading the food over its surface. 

Giving in, you went to your cabinet to get cups and plates, but Cassian stilled you with his hands on your hips once again. “No, you don’t.”

“Cassian,” you huffed as he pulled you back toward the table. “You don’t even know where anything is!”

He pushed your shoulders down lightly until you were sitting in a chair. “You can point, can’t you?”

You rolled your eyes. “This feels excessive.”

“I disagree,” he winked at you before going to the cabinet that you were just at, pulling down a few plates, then placing them on the table. 

“Cups?” he asked. 

Sighing, you pointed to another cabinet and he went to it, jovially pulling glasses out and filling them with water. 

Within a few minutes, Cassian was piling food onto your plate, watching you intently as he ate from his own. 

“What is going on with you?” You asked. 

Casually, he said, “What do you mean?”

“You know what I mean! Why have you been hovering around, feeding me, bringing me jackets?”

The side of his mouth turned up into a lopsided grin. “Do you want me to stop?”

The question was not what you were expecting. You weren’t sure that you were willing to admit to him how much he had been affecting you yet. You sat back in your seat, crossing your arms over your chest. “Answer my question.”

His smile only grew. “Answer mine.”

You raised an eyebrow, determined. “I asked first.”

Cassian laughed. “Okay, fine.”

He leaned forward, bracing his forearms on the table in front of him, his eyes fixed on you. “You really want to know the truth?”

You nodded, forcing yourself to keep your eyes locked on his. 

His teasing demeanor dropped, his expression suddenly serious. “I was watching you at dinner with everyone a few weeks ago. And you were running around, taking care of everybody else the entire night. It was like you didn’t even think about it. It’s amazing how you can do that, and I know that everyone around you is thankful for it. But…” he hesitated, his eyes softening as he looked at you. “But, it also made me sad. I started wondering if anybody ever took care of you. And I figured I could be that person.”

You had to take a deep breath, your mind reeling. 

When you were silent for a few more moments, Cassian continued. “You don’t have to take care of everybody, you know. You can slow down. You can relax, and let someone else help you out, too.” He smiled slightly. “That’s what I’ve been trying to show you.”

Something seemed to snap in you then. You hadn’t even realized how badly you had been wanting someone to help you, to pay attention to you, to take care of you for once. The fact that Cassian had noticed even before you did how badly you needed someone to be there for you made it even more unbelievable. 

Your feet seemed to move without your brain’s permission, stepping right up to Cassian, cupping his face in your hands, and kissing him. 

Cassian responded immediately, wrapping his arms around your waist, and pulling you to sit on his lap. He weaved his hands through your hair, his thumb rubbing circles into the skin at your waist where your shirt had ridden up the slightest bit. 

His lips trailed down your neck, and he murmured, “You never answered my question.” 

“Don’t stop,” you panted. 

He chuckled into your neck before kissing you on the lips again. “Don’t stop kissing you? Or don’t stop taking care of you?”

“Both,” you smiled, taking his face in your hands and kissing him again. 

“You got it,” Cassian smiled against your mouth. 

After a few moments, you pulled back, tracing the edge of his jaw with your thumb. “Thank you, Cassian. Really,” you said quietly. 

He smiled, his eyes twinkling. “You’re welcome.”

“I didn’t even realize how badly I wanted someone else to watch out for me for once.”

Cassian kissed you gently. “I’m here for you now. Whatever you need. Whether you know it or not.”

You smiled, nuzzling into his neck, hardly believing it. 

---

It took some time, but you eventually became more used to Cassian’s eyes on you, to not be shocked when he handed you a plate of food or washed the dishes for you. 

You were still very much the mom friend who took care of everything, as it was in your nature. But you now knew that you had someone looking after you, too. And you couldn’t be more thankful, as Cassian sidled up to you, kissing you on the temple and handing you a glass of water. 

“Thank you,” you beamed. 

Cassian wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into a kiss. “Anytime.”

@loving-and-dreaming @birdsflyhome @hanuh @sheblogs @iambored24601 @thalia-as-blog @ecliphttlunar @melmo567 @headacheseason @sillysillygoose444 @halibshepherd @cigvrette-dvydrevms @lilah-asteria @marina468 @evergreenlark @bookloverandalsocats @yourqueenlilith @mariamay02 @azrielshadows1nger @andreperez11

[amourane]

kick in the right direction

pairing: football player!seungcheol x mascot!reader

genre: fluff, university au

w/c: 0.9k

summary: seungcheol is the star football player in your university but he becomes a bumbling mess in front of you.

warnings: none, you do get hit by a ball though

a/n: i have decided to start writing fics for seventeen too because i just love them way way too much <3 also disclaimer this post used to be under my old url httphannie <3

Seungcheol doesn’t know what to say. He usually has an explanation for his actions. There doesn’t seem to be anything coming to his mind when he sees you on the ground. The problem with being the star player on the football team was the amount of trust his coach put on him. As well as the thought that they needed to win every game, that wasn’t a problem though because Choi Seungcheol was a beast when he was in game mode. His aim was the best on the whole team, he’d never missed a goal. 

Obviously today was an off day.

“You’re staring, Cheol.” Jeonghan gives him a hearty slap on the back. “You really like our school mascot don’t you?” All Seungcheol can do is nod, watching as Seungkwan helps you up.

He really wants to go over and say sorry for nearly knocking you out with his kick but he can’t. Not because he doesn’t want to but because he simply can’t. It’s stupid really. Choi Seungcheol, star player of the football team, can’t say two words when he’s faced with you. He’s tried speaking to you. Once after a game, not the best choice because he’d become so nervous he spilt his water bottle all over you. Even after you told him it was fine he was still stuttering his words. Another time he’d managed to catch you walking down the hallway. The moment you smiled and said ‘hi’ his mind blanked. No words could come out of his mouth and he stood there gaping like a goldfish.

Talking to girls was easy for Seungcheol. He could give them a smile and they’d be fawning all over him. You were different. There isn’t one time he’s had a full conversation with you with nothing embarrassing happening. He’d stumble over his words or nothing would come out of his mouth. The only thing that kept him from giving up was the fact you would grin every time he came up to you and he didn’t like giving up.

“Of course I like her!” Seungcheol runs a hand through his hair. “I just don't know what to do?”

“You could ask her out.”

“I can’t!” 

His friend arches an eyebrow, clearly puzzled. "What do you mean you can't ask her out? Like you're scared, or you don't know how to, because those two are completely different things." Jeonghan's tone is gentle but probing, urging Seungcheol to confront the root of his hesitation.

“That’s not it. I’ve got everything planned out. I know what to say and I know where I want to bring her to. There’s a whole plan in my notebook, it’s coloured in and everything!”

“Then what’s the problem?”

Seungcheol fiddles with the hem of his shirt. “Whenever I go up to her to ask her out my throat closes and I can’t find the right words. Or when I try to even write my confession, my hand freezes and no letters can be written. It’s even worse because I manage to make a fool of myself whenever I’m in front of her!” He kicks the football away.

Jeonghan sighs, staring at Seungcheol as he aimed a perfect kick to the goal. The boy was completely enamoured by you. Practically the whole school knew about his crush on you. Everyone was just waiting for the day the both of you would come in hand in hand. 

//

“Y/n, oh my god! Are you okay?” Seungkwan was shaking you by your shoulders. You rub your head. That football was really hard. Who knew air could hurt you? “How many fingers am I holding up?” He waves three fingers around and your eyes struggle to adjust to his trembling hand.

“Calm down. I just got hit in the head, I don’t have a concussion or anything.” You just know there’s going to be a huge bump on your forehead tomorrow. “It’s partly Stuart’s fault.” You pat the dragon costume you had on. The fuzzy green body was heavy and the long swishy tail at the back was quite annoying to lug around.

"Why are you blaming our mascot? Stuart did nothing wrong," Seungkwan interjects, shooting a pointed glare at Seungcheol. "Star player my ass." He mutters under his breath, clearly unimpressed.

“Hey, don’t blame him. I’m sure it was an accident.” You give Seungcheol a little smile and an ‘okay’ sign to tell him everything was fine. 

“I can’t believe you like that dumbass, he can’t string two sentences together when he’s in front of you.” Seungkwan helps you up, handing you Stuart’s head. You dust off the dirt on your costume. 

What was there not to like about Choi Seungcheol? He was popular, athletic, smart and talented in everything. Not to mention he was the literal definition of eye candy. There hadn’t been many occasions where you two had met. He’d always stutter helplessly or his cheeks would resemble a fire truck, which was very endearing. It was quite funny seeing him stumble over his words whenever he tried to ask you out.

“Why don’t you just ask him out? You already know he likes you, not that he makes it the most obvious thing in the world.” 

“But isn't it just the cutest thing when he tries to ask me out but he’s a stuttering blushing mess?” You giggle when you catch sight of the pout Seungcheol has on his face. “I hope he asks me out soon though, I can’t wait to finally go on a date with him.” 

The smile you shoot at Seungcheol has him tripping over his feet, face planting into the ground. Suppressing your laughter behind your hand, you watch as he hurriedly picks himself up, only to see his teammates rolling on the floor with amusement.

“How long are you even willing to wait?”

“As long as it takes.”

[peachesofteal]

Through Me (The Flood) - secret baby fic Simon Riley / female reader - 18+ smut, alcohol. lactation (heavily requested because I guess we're all fiends now?), daddy, praise kink. request(s): Mama makes a friend

"And you didn't find him?"

You shake your head. "Not until I almost ran into him on the sidewalk. I looked everywhere."

“Wow.” Cami’s eyes are wide, fixated on your story, fine stemmed champagne glass delicately balanced in her fingers. It’s empty again, like yours, and when the server comes by, you ask them for another round.

That’s the point of bottomless, right?

“You’re brave.” She quips, scooping up a bite of her eggs. “Raising a baby on your own.”

“You’re sweet.” She is. You really like Camille. She was the one who reached out a few weeks ago, when Simon and Kyle got in, and has been trying to lure you out of the house since.

So, when Kyle called Simon on Friday night and suggested he and Orion come over to watch football, Cami texted ten minutes later.

> Bottomless mimosas at brunch on Sunday? Or we could sit around and watch football for two hours. Exciting.

You hadn’t realized how much you missed… just being you. You outside of being Orion’s mother, you outside of navigating your relationship with Simon. Spending time outside of your flat without worrying about feeding or nappies or sanitizing bottles and endlessly cleaning up. Simon took a lot of the pressure off, assumed most of the workload now, but it was still hard to untangle yourself from motherhood.

Not to mention, leaving Orion for even a few hours was stressful. Simon had to nearly force you out the door this morning, over the sound of the baby’s screams. The separation had your heat beating in your ears, stomach turbulent with anxiety, only fading slowly with time as you finished one mimosa and moved to the next.

“So you’re coming to dinner right?” You blink, rapidly trying to reconcile her question with reality. Your head is a little fuzzy, limbs a little floaty, and you’re sure if you stood up right now, you’d probably be gripping the table for support with your wonky balance.

Finally, you catch up. “Right, dinner. Next weekend.” She nods.

“Uh huh…” She squeaks with a laugh. There's nothing comedic about her words, but with four mimosas in you both, everything seems a little funny. "At ours. Johnny is coming, an' their captain."

"And you're cooking?" She makes a sour face, laughing again.

"I'm gonna try."

Kyle looms at your side when Simon opens the door. He's alone, no baby in his arms, and the flat is surprisingly quiet. The smile that tips your lips upwards is uncontrollable, and you giggle as he raises an eyebrow. "Thanks Kyle." They give each other a nod, a big hand settling at your waist, guiding you inside.

The door clicks closed. You drift listlessly into him, nose at his chest, and breathe deep. He chuckles. "Hey, mama." Your lower belly flutters, rubber band twisting tight until it nearly snaps-

"Hi daddy."

Simon steers you into the bedroom with a palm on your hip, keeping you upright when you tip to the side, the dynamic of your balance hopelessly thrown askew. "Baby?"

"Went down about an hour ago without fuss." He smoothes his hands over your shoulders and down, fingers coming to rest at the top of your dress's square neckline, too full tits tied up with a bow. "How're you feelin'?"

"A little buzzed." Avid desire enflames your skin, tracing a path from the tightening of your nipples down to where your clit throbs, panties already soaked for him.

"Want to take this off?"

"Yes," you hiccup, "please." He raises an eyebrow.

"Maybe you should have some water-"

"No, no." You latch onto his wrist and pull, though all it does is bring you closer, like being on the losing end of tug-o-war, but he holds you steady, close, like always. There's orange nectar and pear spritzed prosecco on your tongue, and you press closer, voracious want crawling up your spine, overtaking your movements. The alcohol makes you bold, a trigger you've been waiting for since he's come home. One you've not been able to pull. He's curved over you, and you flex onto your tiptoes to lay your forehead against his. "P-please... take it off."

Your dress disappears quickly, leaving you standing in front of him in a pair of pale blue panties, and a bra from before you pregnant, one you tried to cram yourself into and mostly failed. Your breasts spill over the top, sore and aching since Orion hasn't fed for hours, Simon's nose skimming down your neck as he unlatches the clasp in the back. You whimper when they fall free. "Poor thing." He coos, with both in his hands, thumbs tickling over your nipples, and walks you backwards to the bed, knees hinging when you hit the corner of the mattress, body and soul turning to liquid as he lays you on your back. His eyes are dark, deep wells of longing, hungrily sweeping over the length of your body before he succumbs with a long kiss, one that drifts down, across your collarbone and to your breast, teasing around your nipple, tugging your panties to the side at the same time.

"Simon," you squirm, chasing him, desperate against his slow pace, babbling pleas filling the air. "Daddy-"

"Shhh. Easy, mama." You're soaked, can feel the heaviness of it slicked on your thighs, dewy drops damp in your curls. He swipes, circling your clit, sliding down to your hole and back up, exploring, ruining, mouth closing around your nipple as he pushes a finger deep, groaning into your flesh.

"Oh my god, oh, fuck-" you gasp. It's foreign, feeling a piece of him back inside you after so long, the breadth of his finger more than you were expecting, slowly working you open until there are two. Your head spins, delirious yet singularly focused, overwhelmed by the combination of him sucking at you and stroking inside you. It's taboo, this affliction, this satisfaction of him pulling your milk free, soothing the ache of your fullness, but you don't have a mind to care. Never have. The relief is overwhelming, tight coils building your muscles, and he dribbles some across your chest as he moves to the next, ministrations expert. You spill into his mouth, warmth dripping from the corners of his lips, his free hand squeezing, trying to milk every last drop free.

"Can't get over how good you taste, honey." You tuck your fingers into the waistline of his jeans, trying to pull him out, fumbling with his button, his zipper, until he dwarfs your hand with his, pressing your palm against the heavy hardness of his cock. "Need you to be sober for it," he murmurs gently, "want you to remember, when you take it, when I fill you up again." You gulp, your body screams. You want it now, want him inside you, but instinctively know he won't budge. He rears back, tapping your calf, "heels on the edge of the bed, mama," and sucks in a breath as he parts your knees. "Ruined your panties, sweet girl. Lift up for me." They disappear, tossed away into a dark corner of the room, and he gets to his knees. You almost close yours, want to close yours, suddenly self conscious knowing he's at eye level, seeing everything, but he chases the thought from your mind when his mouth finds your clit.

"Oh." It's the only word your brain will produce, buried beneath high pitched moans. He eats like he's starved, two fingers finding their place again, tongue flicking against your bud with a near violent pace.

"Sweet everywhere, aren't you?" He kisses the words into your cunt, vibrations of the gravel in his voice only kicking you higher, closer to the peak. "So sweet for daddy." You whine, always a little shamed by it, that word, even when you say it yourself. "My perfect girl. Y'gonna cum for me? Clench this little pussy around my fingers?" Pleasure ripples, tightens your muscles until they burn, and he shoves you into it, drags you beneath the rolling waves of an orgasm, hips chasing his tongue, his teeth thighs closing around his head, trapping him, holding him tight.

That's what you do. You hold him tight. Too tight. Hold him like it will keep him here. Keep you from losing him.

He tucks you close after, whispering something in your ear, unintelligible in your dizzied state, limp like a doll. You go easily, abated, as he settles you in beneath the blankets, waking you gently some time later for naproxen and water. You'll have to pump before Orion feeds again, and dump it, but in this moment, the only thing that matter is his chest warm at your back, his fingers tracing circles into your skin. "Sleep, mama."

[zweigsangel]

it started with the faint buzz of your phone on the nightstand, vibrating so persistently it startled you out of half-sleep. you grabbed it, squinting at the screen to see chris's name flashing. it wasn’t unusual for him to call, but at nearly two in the morning? that wasn’t normal.

“what the hell do you want?” you answered, voice raspy from sleep. “yo,” he slurred, dragging the word out. his voice sounded distant, like it was fighting through static and something else.

you sat up, rubbing your face. “are you drunk?”

“nah,” he said, then paused. “well, kinda. not drunk. high. like, really fuckin’ high.” there was another pause. then he laughed softly. “sorry, is that rude? don’t know why i’m apologizin’. i just—fuck, nevermind.“

“what’s up? you woke me up, dumbass.” but your irritation was mostly for show, your tone softening.

chris and you had always been like this—banter that felt like a second language, jokes that only the two of you got. you’d been friends for years, meeting in high school when he’d transferred to your school halfway through junior year. he was scruffy, cocky, and way too confident for his own good. but beneath that? he was sweet in ways he didn’t let many people see.

you leaned back against the headboard, adjusting to the idea that you weren’t getting back to sleep anytime soon.

“just..missed your voice, i think.” he said it so simply, like it was the most normal thing in the world.

your stomach did that annoying little flip at his words, and you cursed it silently. there’d always been something unspoken between you two. maybe it was the way he sometimes looked at you like you were the only person in the room. or the way his hand would linger on your back when you hugged goodbye. but you’d both avoided it, burying it under layers of sarcasm and jokes.

“you’re so full of shit,” you said, rolling your eyes even though he couldn’t see you. “nah, swear to god,” he said, voice still soft but with a hint of that teasing edge he always had. “can i-can i come over?”

“chris, it’s the middle of the night—”

“i know, i know. but i just... i really wanna see you. please.”

something in his voice made your chest ache a little. “fine. but if you wake my neighbors, i’m kicking your ass.”

“promise. be there in ten.”

ten minutes later, there was a soft knock at your door. you opened it to find him standing there, hoodie pulled over his head. his hair was a mess, and his eyes were glassy, but he grinned when he saw you.

“you look cute,” he said, stepping inside without waiting for an invitation.

“shut up,” you said, shutting the door behind him. you were just in an oversized t-shirt and shorts, and you felt a little self-conscious under his gaze.

he flopped onto your couch, stretching out like he owned the place you grabbed a bottle of water from the kitchen and tossed it at him. “drink that. you look like shit,” you said, sitting down next to him. he smelled faintly like weed and the cheap cologne he always wore, and it made your chest ache a little in a way you didn’t want to examine too closely.

“thanks, babe. love the support.” but he opened the bottle and took a long sip, sighing afterward.

“so, what’s this all about?” you asked, pulling your legs up beneath you.

he rubbed the back of his neck, looking uncharacteristically unsure. “dunno. just..couldn’t stop thinkin’ about you.”

you laughed, trying to brush it off. “yeah, right. you’re high as shit. you probably couldn’t stop thinking about pizza, too.”

“nah, i’m serious.” his voice was quieter now, and when you looked at him, his eyes were on you, steady and unflinching. “i mean it. you’re all i’ve been thinkin’ about lately, and it’s been drivin’ me fuckin’ insane.”

your heart was pounding so hard it felt like it might break through your chest. “you’re just saying this because you’re high,” you said weakly, not meeting his eyes.

“bullshit,” he shot back, his voice sharper now. “this isn’t the weed talkin’, alright? this is me. i’ve been feelin’ this way for ages, but i didn’t wanna fuck shit up between us. but, god, it’s killin’ me,” he paused for a moment. “but tonight i was sittin’ at home, high as fuck, and i just couldn’t stop thinking about you. like, your stupid laugh, and the way you always steal my fries even when you say you’re not hungry, and how you—fuck, this is so embarrassing.”

you stared at him, your mouth slightly open but no words coming out.

he looked up at you, his eyes serious now. “i think i’m in love with you. no, fuck that, i know i’m in love with you. and i don’t know what to do about it, ‘cause i don’t wanna lose you, but i also can’t keep pretendin’ i don’t feel this way.”

you felt like the air had been knocked out of you. you sat there, stunned, your brain scrambling to process what he’d just said.

“say something,” he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper. “please.”

you swallowed hard, your mind spinning, and he laughed bitterly. “shit, i knew this was a bad idea,” he muttered, running a hand through his hair. “forget i said anything, alright? just—fuck. i’m sorry.”

he started to get up, but you grabbed his wrist before you even realized what you were doing. “wait.”

he froze, looking down at you, and you swallowed hard. “you’re not..wrong,” you admitted quietly.

his eyebrows pulled together. “what do you mean?”

you hesitated, but only because you were scared. scared of what this could mean, of how things might change. but then you thought about all the little moments over the years—his hand brushing against yours, the way his smile could light up your worst days, the way he always knew exactly how to make you laugh.

“i mean—i think about you, too,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. “but i didn’t wanna ruin anything, either.”

for a moment, he just stared at you, like he couldn’t quite believe what he was hearing. then, slowly, he sat back down. “yeah?” he asked, his voice softer now.

“yeah,” you said, meeting his eyes.

his eyes widened, and for a moment, he just stared at you like he couldn’t believe what he’d heard.

then he did move, leaning in just a little, his gaze flicking to your lips. “can i kiss you?” he asked, his voice low and a little raspy. your breath caught, but you nodded. “yeah.”

and then his lips were on yours, soft and warm and a little hesitant at first, like he wasn’t sure if he was allowed to want this as much as he did. but when you kissed him back, threading your fingers through his hair, he deepened the kiss, his hands coming up to cup your face like he was afraid you might disappear if he didn’t hold on tight enough.

it wasn’t perfect—his nose bumped yours, and you could taste the faint tang of weed on his lips—but it didn’t matter. it was warm and messy and real, and it made your heart feel like it was about to burst.

when he pulled back, his forehead resting against yours, he was smiling—this soft, almost disbelieving smile that made your chest ache in the best way.

“fuck,” he whispered. “that was..better than i imagined.” you laughed softly, your cheeks burning. “you’ve imagined this?”

“yeah,” he admitted, his smile turning sheepish. “a lot, actually.”

you rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t stop smiling. “you’re such an idiot.”

“your idiot,” he said, grinning.

you groaned, shoving him lightly, but he just laughed, pulling you into his arms. and for the first time, it felt like everything was exactly as it should be.

[alchemistc]

Eddie tips his beer against his lips, fights the smile turning up the corners of his mouth as Mara and Jee each cling to one of Buck's arms, the both of them screaming to their hearts content. It's - loud, and Buck isn't doing anything to temper the noise, growling out one of his Roledex of monster noises, lifting one arm and then the other like some bastardized workout routine.

Beside him, Tommy sighs.

It's a familiar sound, at this point. Tommy is so fucking full of love, and Eddie knows he's spent a long ass time looking for a place to put it. He can't think of a person better prepared to take the bulk of it on than Evan Buckley.

"I cannot handle your lovelorn sighs, dude. You got the guy, you don't need to act like some regency hero watching from the sidelines."

Tommy eyes the neck of Eddie's bottle like he's thinking about punishing Eddie for the comment with a beer tap, so Eddie shifts it out of his reach - he's in no mood for another lesson on the physics of cavitation from Buck while he's cleaning foam off the patio and trying to prevent Jee from lapping it up like a dog.

Denny's too old for most of the horseplay, now, but there's something about Buck that makes kids unafraid to act like kids - he takes a flying leap and gets an arm around Buck's neck, and now he's somehow hauling three of them around with one of those wide, uncareful smiles Eddie's always been a bit jealous of.

Tommy's chest expands, and Eddie can feel his lips pursing, his eyes rolling to the side in warning. Tommy blows the breath out through his nose and scowls.

"I knew Shannon was it for me after our first date," Eddie says into the silence, shocking himself with the ease her name slides past his lips. He hasn't - he doesn't - Christ, even thinking her name sets him back sometimes. But this feels - it feels like the only memory pertinent to the situation.

Tommy's pretty good at keeping a straight face when he's feeling big things - decades of practice, Eddie knows, and he's aware that Tommy has spent another ten years unpacking that, forcing himself to wear his heart on his sleeve. Still. It seems easiest when it's Buck, and Eddie can't fault him that.

"She was such an asshole," Eddie continues, fond, while Tommy's gaze shifts to him, careful, concentrated, that special blend of steady eye contact and a stilling of his body that lets people know he's really listening, retaining, will be able to recite word for word something personal someone told him about themselves. "Even then, even as young as we were, I just wanted to share everything with her. Jokes, and stories about my day - happiness and sadness and... life, you know?"

Tommy swallows. His gaze shifts in the quiet of Eddie's confession, unerringly returning to Buck. Eddie's watched plenty of women in love with Buck looking at him. It's never been that look.

The one Eddie'd clocked months ago, a subtle shift from smitten to in love to something else. Something more.

In the grass, Buck levers himself to his knees and begs for mercy, and nearly takes a knee to the groin for his surrender.

Tommy's chest expands.

"You measured his ring size while he's passed out coming off an extra shift, yet?" (Buck has. Eddie's been fielding a fucking deluge of links in his messages, at least a hundred different rings at this point that look identical to Eddie but Buck apparently has half a million opinions about that he seems to think Eddie can help him with.)

Tommy doesn't give him time to react, this time. The bottom of his bottle hits the top of Eddie's and Eddie scrambles too late, foam spilling along the sides, over his fingers. The patio rug soaks up the liquid as it spills over his fingers, but Tommy seems to think the hassle of cleaning off his brand new patio is worth it, if the smirk on his face is anything to go by.

"I'm going to go rescue my boyfriend before Jee-Yun decides hearing Evan howl in real pain is her new favorite hobby."

Eddie's beer is still foaming, a steady trickle up the neck and down the side, right over his fingers, dripping to the rug beneath his feet. He'll need to go inside and wash his hands soon, maybe rearrange Tommy's tea drawer while he's in there - it's the only thing safe from Buck's wrath in that kitchen. "Get me another beer while you're up," Eddie snarks back, and leans back to watch the way Buck's eyes gleam when, instead of rescuing Buck, Jee and Mara both take aim at Tommy instead, and Tommy's swings them both up into the air while they screech in delight.

[wileys-russo]

Leah Williamson “but mummy said yes” at home or training with little Mila, please :)

part of mila's universe - turned out a little longer and a little angstier than originally planned! good cop, bad cop II l.williamson

"lee's not normally late?" alessia asked with a slight frown of concern as you bent down to lace up your boots, sat beside her on the bench in the change rooms.

"she took mila out for breakfast. she's in a phase where leah is her favorite person and i'm some horrible wench who just cooks for her and cleans her mess." you grumbled, feeling alessia's hand reach out to squeeze your shoulder.

"hey. you know that isn't what she thinks! she adores you, and leah." the blonde assured firmly but you shrugged her off, not in the mood to be consoled as you'd been screamed at all morning by the hysterical blonde tornado that was your daughter.

you'd barely glanced up as leah had ushered the four year old out the front door, trying to call out to you and offer some comfort but when mila made a dash for the road you glanced up as the front door slammed closed and crumbled.

"not at the moment she doesn't, she told me she hates me about five times this morning." you mumbled, sniffling and forcing down the tears which threatened to spill over, your best friends face falling as she tried to pull you into a hug.

"not now less. i love you its just- i'm not in the mood." you forced a smile shrugging her arm off as the blonde nodded in understanding but you could see she was struggling not to speak. "what?" you sighed, standing up and raising an eyebrow.

"well do you think you should train when your heads like this?" alessia asked gently, wincing at the sour look which crossed your face and your eyes rolled. "i'm fine less. joys of parenthood!" you plastered another fake smile on your face and marched out of the change rooms, the girl scrambling to grab a water bottle and hurry after you.

you deflected with shrugs everyone who continued to ask of leahs whereabouts, having left your phone in the change rooms when it was about five minutes until you were due to start and there still wasn't any sign of your wife a small pit of guilt began to gnaw at your stomach.

but right as you were about to ask to be excused to try calling her the vice captain came bursting out of the double doors of the training complex, nearly tripping over her own feet as she hopped and jumped trying to wrestle on her second boot.

the snickers and giggles at her predicament from some of the younger girls were firmly shut down by the fierce glare sent their way by your wife, everyone grouping off for warm ups as you gave the older girl a curious look.

"is everything alright?" you asked quietly as the blonde nodded, grunting as she pushed her heel into her boot and knelt down to tie it up. "fine! traffic." the blonde waved it off as you hummed, chalking it up to exactly that.

mila would be off in the creche until you all broke up for lunch, with amanda and manu both soon due to have children of their own arsenal had hired two full time qualified staff with child care experience, and renovated one of the old offices into a daycare of sorts.

something both you and leah were immensely grateful for considering there was only so much stimulation you could provide a bubbly energetic four year old who had the power of the cute and was promptly the greatest distraction to the team ever known.

you found your mood remained quite miserable throughout the session however despite your best friends worries you didn't allow it to affect your training, still ever careful to avoid injury and focus on football, not the swirling doubts in the back of your hear telling you that you were a terrible mother.

but nothing was lost on your wife who knew you like the back of her own hand, who was certain if she attempted to check in on you or provide any sort of comfort and assurance during the session it would be rejected, she waited for the right moment.

and that came when the pair of you had wrapped up, your team successfully winning the round robin cool down games and everyone shaking hands, the staff dismissing everyone for lunch after stretching.

"come here." leah grabbed your hand and pulled you to the side, alessia catching her eye and nodding as leah sent her a knowing look.

"i love you, and mila loves you. more than anything in the world, you know that yeah?" her hands gently cupped your cheeks and her heart ached at the sadness in your eyes that you could hide from anyone but her.

"oh my love." leah sighed with a pained smile, your face tucking into her shoulder as the tears you'd held at bay came bursting to the surface, soft sniffles masked into the material of her training top as her strong arms held you tightly.

"it doesn't feel that way. it feels like i'm failing as a mother!" you admitted quietly once your tears had turned to the occasional sniffle, leah softly kissing your tear stained cheeks and frowning.

"hey. baby you do not ever say that yeah? you are the best mother mila could ever ask for. you are patient, kind, attentive, so loving, loyal, supportive-" leah listed off with her fingers, a small smile curling its way into your lips and a slight chuckle leaving your mouth.

"what? whats funny?" your wife paused to question, looking around and behind her to seek the source of amusement. "you're doing it again. the upside down frowny thing!" you smiled properly, smoothing out her angry eyebrows as the blondes cheeks heated up with a slight pink tint.

"well i don't do it on purpose do i? i have an expressive face!" your wife huffed, and you let out a proper laugh as again her scowl caused her eyebrows to curl downward.

"so long as it makes you laugh." your wife rolled her eyes fondly, pulling you into another tight hug as your chin rested on her shoulder and her hand rubbed circles into your back.

"thank you, i love you." you mumbled with an appreciative kiss to her jaw and then another to her lips. "always. i love ya more kid!" the blonde winked exaggerating her harsh milton keynes accent as you pulled a face.

"i hate when you say that." you shook your head as the older girl grinned, her arm settling across your shoulder as you both made your way across the pitch toward the training centre, drawing you into her side and kissing your cheek a few times.

"i know. which is exactly why i say it!"

however things very quickly took another turn south as you and leah arrived to collect mila for lunch, your good mood leah had just spent the last ten minutes bolstering smashed back down to nothing as mila kicked off yet again.

"no! i am not leaving with mama, she's mean and naughty!" the tiny blonde huffed, clinging to leahs leg and glaring up at you as you deflated entirely, mumbling to your wife how you'd just meet her at lunch and hurrying away.

"mila." leah squatted down with a stern look on her face, getting down to your daughters level, more than ready to tell her off about how she spoke to you just like she had been this morning, and the entirity of this week in fact.

but once again leah had a weakness, which was that the four year old knew exactly how to play her like a fool.

so with some crocodile tears and a wobbly bottom lip leah was cooing and fussing over the girl, picking her up and bouncing her up and down like when she was a baby, the warnings about her behavior dying on her tongue in seconds flat.

"say thank you to meg and andie please bubba." leah whispered, both of the girls who worked in the daycare waving goodbye as mila blew them both a kiss and clung on tightly to leah, tears now forgotten as she babbled away about what a lovely morning she had.

there was also something new with mila besides her attitude toward you that you'd failed to see, however it wouldn't be long until you realised and even leah had failed to think that far ahead as the two of them entered the cafateria and mila was fussed over by her aunties.

you however were already sat at a table with kyra, laia, vic and alessia, shutting down their questions of why you weren't sat where you normally would as alessia gave the other girls a firm look to leave it as you remained quiet.

their worries increased when you made no move to get up and go toward your daughter the moment she arrived, only alessia catching the look of longing you threw the small girls way as her hand settled on your back rubbing comforting circles.

"do you want me to go try and to talk to her?" your best friend asked quietly as you shrugged, just wanting to avoid another very public tantrum as you'd already accepted mila was not going to settle this mystery problem she had with you right now.

"don't eat my potatos, or you can all walk home." alessia very seriously threatened the three younger girls eyeing off her tray as she stood, having been her turn for carpool today, heading off toward the table where leah and mila sat.

leah had also shut down all of the questions about your not sitting with them, beth in particular earning herself a stomped on foot when she wouldn't stop pestering your wife about it, causing mila to giggle and beth to pretend leah had broken her foot.

she was mid performance when alessia sat down, mila now no longer interested as she launched herself at your best friend who nearly dropped the four year old who jumped suddenly from lia's lap into her own.

"aunty lessi!" mila beamed, arms flung around the strikers neck and hugging her tightly as leah watched with a smile and alessia tickled the small blonde who squealed and tried to jump away.

"hey tiny, can i ask you something?" alessia asked, giving leah a look as she glanced over curiously, ignoring the way the older blonde shook her head furiously to try and divert her from the chosen topic.

"why are you mad at ma-" but the question stopped as alessia noticed the one thing leah had failed to remember, hands grabbing the four year olds cheeks and turning her head side to side with her mouth open in shock.

"when did you get your ears pierced??" alessia asked in shock, leah choking on a piece of chicken as kim quickly smacked her on the back and she spit it out with a wheeze.

"ew! mummy thats really yuck." mila made a face of disgust, scooting as far away from leah as she could, balancing on alessia's right leg as she striker held her steady, still staring at the small diamonds in her ears in shock.

"she hasn't always had them done?" beth asked with a skeptical look, fork in her mouth and eyes narrowed as alessia's rolled. "no! she has not." the girl clarified as leah went bright red and her best friend picked up that maybe this was a lot newer than they realised.

"tell me you did not do that this morning? and without asking your wife?" lia hissed quietly, grabbing leahs arm and spinning her around to face her, the vice captain shrinking away from the swiss womans fierce glare.

"i could tell you that...but it would maybe sort of be a, lie?" leah winced, lia swearing in german and running her hands down her face with a look of disbelief at the defender who rubbed the back of her neck sheepishly.

"she's wanted them done for ages! we went for breakfast and then she was a bit grizzly and hyper so we walked around the shopping centre for a bit, we walked past the piercing parlor and well one thing lead to another and..." leah trailed off, flinching as alessia firmly punched her in the shoulder.

"hey! it is not nice to hit people aunty lessi." mila warned with a scowl, wagging a finger at the older girl who gave your wife a glare, face softening at the adorable four year old in her lap attempting to sternly tell her off.

"sorry mil, that was a grown up accident. you're right we shouldn't hit people!" alessia agreed with a nod despite holding no regret for her actions. "hey tiny i thought mama said you had to be a bit bigger before you got your ears pierced?" alessia asked with raised eyebrows as your daughter nodded.

"she did, she's mean and smelly and bad. but mummy said yes! i love you mummy!" mila beamed as leah sheepishly shrunk into her chair, alessia helping your daughter down at her request as she ran off to go sit with katie and caitlin, clambering up into the irish womans lap and proudly showing off her new earrings it would appear she'd also forgotten about until now.

"you are so dead leah you know she wanted to wait until mila was older and she already feels like shit today. go and fix it, now!" alessia growled quietly as leahs head dropped, pushing her chair back and standing but it would appear it was much too late as mila had continued her rounds, now showing off to kyra.

leah might be your wife and love you fiercly, but alessia had been your best friend since you were ten and no one was more protective over you than she could be.

leah herself was shell shocked by the shovel talk she got from the normally soft spoken kind blonde when the two of you had first started dating.

"mila, can you show mama please?" you called out, almost certain you misheard your daughter just tell laia about her new 'ear bling'. leah wouldn't, surely she wouldn't.

"no!" mila snapped, smile turning to a scowl as she stuck her tongue out at you and raced away, but not fast enough for you to miss the two little studs in her lobes, ignoring kyra asking what that was all about as you slowly stood.

leahs blood ran cold as your eyes met hers, burning with anger and you silently pointed to the exit, storming off as your wife nearly knocked over her tray in her haste to hurry after you, alessia and lia both making sure to keep an eye on your daughter.

"baby just listen-" leah started the moment the cafateria doors swung shut and she stood with you in the hallway.

"no. oh no no no, do not baby me right now leah. those better be clip ons, because i know my wife wouldn't go behind my back and pierce our daughters ears when we agreed she was too young. would she?" you asked, scarily calm and knuckles going lily white from how hard your fists were clenched together.

"um. well, look. um really-" the normally smooth spoken blonde was a mess as she tripped and stumbled over her words, unable to string a sentence together as your eyes squeezed shut and you pinched your nose between your thumb and pointer finger.

"leah catherine williamson you fucking stupid, selfish-"

however before you could unleash the fury bubbling up inside you at the taller girl the doors burst open again and a tiny body came charging out, crashing into leahs legs.

"mummy you left me behind!" mila frowned up the blonde who watched your face drop at the fact your daughter wasn't even acknowledging you right now, the anger coursing through you slowly bleeding away into utter rejection and fear.

"hey. bubba can we please have a chat? a big girl talk!" you knelt down and tried to ask gently, giving her a smile as soft as you could muster as she turned to look at you.

"not your bubba! i'm mummys bubba. go away!" your daughter snapped right as alessia came tumbling out of the door with kyra hot on her heels, halfway through telling off the younger australian for being terrible at hide and seek clearly assuming they'd lost the four year old who was now right in front of them.

"woah. harsh!" kyra muttered with a wince, alessia quickly shoving her back through the doors before she could say another word, a crash inside meaning she'd perhaps pushed a little harder than intended.

"mila no you're mine and mummys bubba. our little legacy, remember?" you tried to force a smile, winded from her words but it was about to get worse before it got better. "no. now just mummys bubba! i hate you! not my mama!" mila yelled, turning and pressing herself into leahs legs as you looked up to your wife for help.

but when all she could do was wordlessly open and close her mouth, quickly scooping up your daughter who'd begun to cry and start comforting her, you crumbled.

"tell them i feel sick and i went home early." you forced out, directed at your best friend who was ready to intervene but knew it wasn't her place, barely able to get your words out before a dry sob sounded and you hurried off with your hand over your mouth.

"hey, mila. you're a big girl now yeah?" alessia decided this had gone far enough and if leah wasn't going to say something, she was. your daughter lifted her head from where it had been buried in leahs neck, tear tracks down her cheeks as she nodded slowly.

"well. big girls talk about why they might be feeling yuck, they don't yell and throw tantrums, and you're a big girl now right?" alessia asked gently as mila nodded again, sniffling and wiping her nose on the collar of your wifes training top.

with a nod from alessia the three of them headed outside toward the pitch, knowing lunch was over soon and the girls would be flooding out. it would seem the fresh air had snapped leah out of whatever hole her head had gotten stuck in as the three of them sat down on the grass.

"so bubba. why are you upset with mama? she loves you very much and you haven't been very nice to her mila." leah warned, alessia now taking a back seat and waiting for the four year old to speak.

"no, no more tears. be a big girl and tell me whats going on in here please bubba." leah shook her head, moving mila out of her lap as she cried out and tried to curl into her, standing her on the grass and gently poking her stomach.

"mama is mean." was all she got out with a frown, leah sighing and closing her eyes for a moment to collect her thoughts, heart breaking as the image of the utter rejection and pain in your face from moments ago flashed through her head.

"why do you think that?" leah pushed, mila huffing and sitting down on the grass, crossing her legs and digging her finger into the pitch. "all she says is no! no no no no no." mila chanted shaking her head, scowling at the grass in a scarily accurate impression of a much younger and moodier leah.

"i'm gonna go check on her." alessia mouthed, slowly getting to her feet and pointing back to the training centre as leah nodded, grateful that you'd always have the blonde in her corner but wracked with guilt for how poorly she'd handled this.

she was supposed to be your wife, it was supposed to be her comforting you, her defending you, her always in your corner for better or worse, in sickness and in health, always.

but motherhood, well it brought with it and held in its hand a whole other host of challenges.

"but mummy says yes. yes yes yes yes, like with my ear bling!" mila perked back up, grinning happily as leah winced, she had really dug herself into it this time.

"okay. serious talk time!" leah sighed, taking mila's hands into her own whose grin never faded. "bubba i know you're a big girl, but you're still mine and mama's baby." leah started, shutting down the little girls protests with a firm shake of her head and a gentle squeeze of her hand.

"you are. mama and i love you more than anything in the whole wide world, and sometimes we have to say no to things if they mean you might get hurt or upset. sometimes you might not know why we-well why mama says no. but she says no because she's a very very good mama who wants to keep you safe, and she always knows best. okay?" leah started, mila slowly nodding.

"but you can always ask why. you can always ask mama or me why we might say no, because mummy needs to say no sometimes too, it isn't fair for it to always be mama. and it isn't fair for you to yell at mama and make her feel bad, because words can hurt too. remember?" leah continued softly as mila nodded again.

"i hurt mama?" mila asked and leah sighed as she had to nod and the girls eyes welled up with tears. "come here bubba." the defender wrapped her up into a tight hug, shushing her softly.

"is mama gonna be mad at me? i don't hate her! i don't! promise!" mila sobbed as leah pushed her flyaways out of her face and softly kissed her forehead. "mama would never be mad at you mila, she loves you too much. but you need to tell her you don't hate her, and say sorry for not being nice. because we have to use nice words with people so we don't hurt their feelings, okay?" leah warned gently as mila nodded, wriggling out of the older girls grip.

"come on mummy we have to go say sorry to mama!" and just like that she was off, surely destined to be a cross country superstar as her tiny legs carried her at a speed leah couldn't even keep up with.

"where is she?" leah came to a screaming halt as mila stopped with a frown, not reallyy sure where she should be running. "lets go see if she's with aunty less in the change rooms." leah took her hand, all but dragged down the corridor where sure enough you were sat crying into your best friends shoulder.

as the doors smacked against the wall you hurried to wipe your eyes, not sure who was coming in but not wanting anyone else to see you in this state as you cleared your throat and tried to compose yourself.

but it was a messy bundle of blonde hair and a tiny red arsenal jersey which came flying inside, climbing up onto the bench and launching at you much to your utter shock, freezing up a little as mila clung onto you.

"mama i don't hate you. i never hate you! and you're not mean, or smelly, or bad, or naughty. i'm sorry!" mila rambled out all in one breath, stopping to gasp in air as her eyes welled up with tears and her arms wrapped around your neck like a python.

"hey hey hey, why the tears my love? no tears." you assured softly feeling her little body shake against you, holding her tightly as leah skidded inside next also very out of breath, alessia nodding for her to give the pair of you a moment, taking her aside to fill her in on what you'd said.

"its okay mila baby, i love you, i'll always love you." you promised, exhaling in relief as your daughter mumbled things into your jumper you couldn't quite understand but you rubbed her back soothingly letting her get them out.

once she'd calmed down and alessia had filled leah in you caught your best friends eye who slowly made her way over, offering to take mila to the gym with her.

"no i wanna go with mama." mila pressed a wet kiss to your cheek making you smile as she clung on tightly. "mama and mummy need to have a grown up talk. and you always say those are boring don't you babe?" you tickled her stomach as she giggled and squirmed away.

"yeah. super boring!" mila agreed, both you and leah assuring her you'd be right in the gym soon as she left with alessia and the room suddenly filled with a brand new type of uncomfortable silence.

"i am-" "we should-"

you both shared a look as leah nodded for you to continue, fiddling with her hands in her lap. "can i have a hug please?" you asked quietly, your wife shell shocked that that was what you had to say.

"what? yeah course you can, come here my girl." leah scooted over to clear the gap between you, a deep exhale leaving your lips as you tucked yourself into her arms, a few beats of silence falling before you pulled away.

"okay, i needed that thank you. now you stupid selfish idiot! you pierced her ears!?" you scowled, smacking your wife repeatedly who held her hands up to shield her face.

"i know i know! i've been forcing you to be the bad cop so i can be the good cop all the time and thats not fair to you, at all. i need to put my foot down and say no too, so you can say yes too." leah instantly admitted as you looked on with surprise.

"or we could just both stay on the same page." you suggested, leah nodding enthusiastically. "brilliant, even better! you're so smart and sexy and funny and the best mum and-" leah rambled as you rolled your eyes, leaning in to cut her off with a kiss, sending her silent.

"shut up." you chuckled, the blonde nodding, motioning as if to lock her lips and throw away the key as you bumped your shoulder into hers.

"i really am sorry. genuinely baby girl, so sorry." "oh i know, which is why you'll be on laundry and dishes and weeding the garden for the next month!" you patted her knee as the blonde sighed but made no move to argue.

"did i mention you're very sexy and smart?" "mm yeah we covered that." "will any form of flattery get me off dishes?" "leah." "a joke! humor, just using humor, you married me for my humor." "well i didn't marry you for your cooking ability babe." "oi!"