#mary you can step on my neck

[unapologeticfeminista]

Shitty capture but she looks so perfect🥺

[aurorawritestoescape]

GOING DOWN || 3,4 k

Joel Miller x f!reader | Frankie Morales x f!reader

Summary: you have a hot boyfriend and a hot ex who’s still obsessed with you. Why not get the best of both worlds?

Tw: 18+ mdni, smut, darkish!reader, toxic!reader, boyfriend!Joel, ex who desperately wants you back!Frankie, soft!Frankie, infidelity (reader’s), praise kink, size kink, unprotected piv, creampie, handjob, m!oral, pussy eating, cum eating, f!masturbation, stalking (reader loves it), voyeurism, exhibitionism, swearing, dirty talk, pet names princesa-princess, mi amor- my love. Reader wears a dress. Pics are for the mood only, reader has no specific physical descriptions.

A/n: I have no excuse for this one. I don’t know why I look at our baby Frankie and want to do all this. I’m not sorry though, it’s hot to me and also fictional😉 the title’s inspired by the song “I’m goin’ down” by Mary J. Blige and Frankie’s special talent😏 Happy Frankie Friday, my loves!💖

Written for @burntheedges ‘s roll-a-trope challenge - my trope was Exes. Thank you for the fun event, Kate❤️ Kisses to wonderful @milla-frenchy for beta-ing this filth😘 dividers by @saradika-graphics

MASTERLIST || more Frankie - The Hoodie

You are looking out of the window at the night street, illuminated by a few golden lights, when you feel Joel’s heavy hands on your hips and then his lips plant a kiss on your neck from behind.

“Let’s go to bed,” he mumbles, his gruff voice coated with lust.

“No, fuck me right here.”

He smiles against your neck.

“Really? Want the neighbors to see us, dirty girl?”

“Yeah. Neighbors,” you smirk, not tearing your eyes from the car parked outside your apartment building. Your ex’s Pickup.

Joel pierces you with his big stiff cock and before you start moaning like a whore, you open the window a little so you two can not only be visible, but also perfectly heard from the street. Cool autumn air hits your heated face and your nipples get hard under your thin dress.

"Oh yeah, Joel! Harder!" you cry out, reveling in the way he's dragging his huge manhood in and out your channel. You're taking it like a good girl-always wet and tight for your boyfriend's cock.

Your fingers swiftly pull down your neckline, exposing your bouncing tits to whoever might look through your window. And you're sure that someone is looking.

Not knowing about your sick game, Joel is grunting loudly, thrusting deep and hard into you, your back flush with his broad chest. He’s rubbing his stubble against your neck, then your cheek until you turn your face to him and your lips lock in a sloppy and passionate kiss, while he’s holding you close, drawing pleasure from your tight pussy.

Joel’s hand snakes under your dress and having found your naked cunt, begins swirling your clit between two thick fingers. You part from his mouth, whimpering loudly.

“Yeah, baby! Let ‘em hear what a slut you are for me. Getting fucked in front of the whole neighborhood.”

His words push you over the edge and you come on his cock, crying out from pleasure. You don’t fake it. There is no need. He is that good.

Joel follows you soon and shoots his thick warm cum into your pulsating core. When he stills and pulls out, you hastily fix your dress and grab your dog’s leash.

“I’ll walk Tom.” You kiss Joel with tongue and leave the apartment, leaking your boyfriend’s load with every move.

When you step out into the night, you walk along the street a few meters and tie your dog to a street pole. On your legs, trembling from the hard orgasm, you saunter to your ex’s truck.

The passenger door is already open for you when you reach it and you get in, feeling cold air lap at your pussy, coated in Joel’s cum.

A pair of beautiful kicked puppy eyes greet you there and you turn slightly in your seat to see your ex better in the dark car.

Frankie’s wearing a denim shirt, dark blue jeans and his favorite baseball cap that you always hated for hiding his gorgeous curls. He looks the same as the day you left him. Maybe the bags under his eyes are darker but it could be the poor lighting at fault.

“What are you doing here, Frankie?” Your voice is soft and calm, with a pinch of sadness thrown in for his sake.

The man nervously fixes his cap and glances at you from the side, like a guilty dog. He clears his throat and lies,

“ ‘m checking on you.”

His velvety voice caresses your ear, it’s soft like everything about his character. He starts chewing on his lip while his eyes are staring into the darkness ahead of him.

“No, you’re stalking me, baby. I see your Pickup everywhere I go. Near my work last week. I spotted you at the bar today. And now you’re here… spying on me through the window.”

He proves that he watched your little show when he spreads his thighs wider and bucks his hips, unwillingly attracting your attention to his big bulge. You both are quiet for a few moments.

“I miss you,” he finally admits, turning to you. His eyes are sad and sappy and you should feel sorry, bad or at least sympathetic but the overwhelming feeling in your heart is a triumph. He’s not over you. You’re the best he’s ever had and he desperately wants you back.

You’ve been feeling elated lately when you noticed Frankie stalking you. It’s been fun playing with him and you don’t plan on stopping. You pull your brows together and coo,

“I understand, baby, but you can’t keep coming here. Joel’s a jealous type. I don’t want any problems.”

While you’re talking, Frankie’s nodding along, eyes downcast. You place your hand on his shoulder and give it a comforting squeeze. His own big paw flies to yours and after bringing it to his mouth, he presses his lips to your palm. Your heart flutters at his need for you and your pussy tingles when you remember the way his plush lips were leaving kisses all over your body weeks ago.

“Baby,” you breathe out and he looks at you, not letting go of your hand. You see tears in his eyes, not enough to spill but enough to fuel up your ego. His eyes are so pretty like that, wet lashes and glossy chocolatey irises.

“Aww, Frankie,” you coo and open your arms to him. He rushes to you as if you’re his lifeline, wrapping his big strong arms around your torso and burying his face in the crook of your neck.

You’re hugging him back, trying not to suffocate in his steel embrace and rubbing his muscular broad back. Frankie’s as big as Joel, both are much bigger than you, and warmth spreads deep in your core when his scent envelops you just like his body.

You smile when you notice him still wearing your favorite cologne.

Soon your body craves something more than just a hug so your lips part and a soft whimper escapes your mouth. You know well that your pretty noises always make him wild.

Your ex reacts immediately and you feel an open mouth kiss on your neck.

“Frankie.” Your tone is scolding yet fake and you sigh deeply, brushing his chest with your barely covered breasts. Your ex grumbles at the sensation and then whispers, his voice already strained with lust.

“I miss you so much.”

You hug him tighter and feel his hot breath on your cleavage when he leans lower to plant another kiss on your collarbone. His cap slides off his head and falls on the floor but he doesn’t care. Looking down at his beautiful dark curls you run your fingers through his hair, scratching his scalp with your nails and Frankie almost roars against your chest. His arms pull you closer to him, even though your torso is already flush with his. He slightly lifts you off the seat and you tug at his hair in warning, steel in your tone.

“Put me down, Frankie.”

He listens to you like he always does but your roughness earns another loud groan from him. You smile, imagining how hard his cock must be now.

Frankie leaves soft kisses on your clothed chest, your belly and soon his head is resting on your lap, while his arms are wrapped around your hips as if he’s scared you’ll float away.

You’re stroking his head, marveling at the silky waves of his hair, shining even in the dim light, and slightly tilt your hips up when his prominent nose pokes your mound through the thin fabric of your dress. As if thinking about the same thing, Frankie breathes in full lungs of your arousal and a guttural moan vibrates against your covered pussy.

“I miss her, mi amor,” you barely hear him mumble and you sigh. Recently satiated by Joels’s pounding, your core gets reignited with sticky desire and you bite your lip, your dark gaze sliding over his sexy shoulders and his head, with his face hidden. You part your legs just slightly, letting him closer to your needy pussy.

Like a dog sniffing out his favorite treat, Frankie’s nuzzling your lap, and his lips and nose are brushing against your tights, your lower belly, your cunt through the fabric.

You gasp when his fingers dig into your soft hips a bit too hard and he hastily relaxes his grip and looks up at you.

“Sorry, princesa.” His blown out eyes are filled with guilt and want and you give him a smile, cupping his scruffy cheek.

“It’s ok, baby, just be careful with me, ‘k? No marks.”

“Yes, yes, of course, mi amor,” he murmurs, returning his head back onto your lap.

After a couple of minutes in his arms, the fire in your core morphs into an ache and you squirm under him with impatience.

“I should go, Frankie. Joel’s gonna worry.”

“No, please,” he almost whines, hugging you tighter. “I—,” he stumbles.

“Yes, baby?”

“Can I —? Can I see her?”

He’s staring up at you and you tilt your head to the side, faking confusion.

“Who?”

He knows that you understand but you need him to say it. So he plays by your rules. Like he always does.

“Can I see your beautiful pussy?” He sits up, facing you, his huge body squeezed in between the wheel and his seat. His bulge looks even more prominent now and you gush at the thought that he must be leaking into his boxers.

“Oh, Frankie, baby, you know I have a boyfriend. I can’t.”

His pleading eyes are fixed on you as he begs,

“Please, mi amor, just a look. I miss her so much. I miss you. Please.”

With another fake sigh you glance out of the window to check the surroundings, and after finding the street empty, you turn back to him.

“Ok, just for a second. Get in the back.”

“Thank you, mi amor,” he mumbles, hurrying out of the truck.

You squeeze between the front seats and sit down, turning to Frankie as he joins you at the back of the car. Your ex impatiently grabs the hem of your dress but you stop him.

“No one should know about this, understand?”

Frankie nods eagerly, mumbling yes’s like a junkie before getting a hit of his drug and you let him lift your dress and expose your naked pussy.

Your hands clutch the dress against your waist, and your legs are pressed together but it’s evident how wet you’re - your folds shine with Joel’s cum and your slick arousal.

Frankie’s breath hitches and his broad chest expands, straining his shirt.

“Beautiful,” he praises as his hand flies to the apex of your thighs.

“Nah-ah”, you grab his big paw midair and place it on top of your thigh.

“No touching. You wanted to look, right?”

“Yeah,” Frankie halfheartedly agrees, furrowed brows showing his discontent. “Then at least open your legs, princesa. Need to see her better.”

You try to contain your excitement as you tut at your ex,

“You’re so naughty, baby.”

You slowly part your thighs wide enough for your pussy to bloom in front of his hungry eyes.

Frankie’s mouth goes slack and his gaze clouds up when he sees your glistening pussy lips, puffy clit and your inviting hole. You shift a little on the seat, leaving wetness on the leather, and when you clench your walls in anticipation, you both see a little bit of pearly white liquid slide out of your entrance.

“Is this…?” Frankie mumbles, not tearing his eyes off your recently used cunt.

“Yeah. I know you’ve been watching Joel fuck me so don’t pretend that you’re surprised. My pussy’s full of his cum,” you say with defiance and wait for his reaction.

Frankie’s softly growls and his hand on your thigh contracts into a fist.

“Shhh, big boy,” you purr, bringing your fingers to your pussy. You gather some of Joel’s seed, leaking from your hole, and spread the creamy juices over your hardened clit. You rub yourself a few times and when a soft moan escapes your lips, Frankie echoes you.

“Feels so good,” you admit and begin pleasuring yourself in front of your ex.

“Jesus— fuck,” Frankie mumbles. His eyes are obsidian, forehead glistening with sweat with a few wet curls stuck to it. With his gaze tormented and pained, he reaches down to his belt.

“What are you doing, baby?” you ask, pausing your ministrations.

Frankie freezes and replies, stumbling over his words,

“I need — need to take my dick out. It hurts.”

“Ok, Frankie.” He hastily unzips his jeans when you add, “But don’t touch it.”

Frankie groans but then sighs with relief when he pulls the waistband of his boxers down, tucks it under his balls and his cock springs free. It hits his shirt and leaves a dark wet spot.

His member is throbbing, the dark pink tip, glossy and fat, is oozing his clear need for you and you lick your lips, enticing the man even more.

Frankie follows your orders and lets his cock bob and drip pre-fuck juice all over his balls and jeans while you moan again, tracing your sopping hole.

Your ex rubs his cheek, focused on the place he desperately wants to claim with his tongue and cock and croaks after wetting his plush lips,

“Let me kiss her, mi amor.”

Bingo.

That’s what you wanted as soon as you saw him at the bar today. If you cared to admit maybe you already dreamed about it when you noticed him stalking you last week. But what’s a prize without a game? Now it feels extra special.

With a little smile, you throw off your shoe and plant your bare foot on the seat, opening your thighs wider for him.

“You gonna taste another man’s cum on my pussy? just to kiss her?”

Frankie’s eyes snap up to yours and you see his defeat, his despair, his love in their depths.

He nods silently.

“Aww, you’re so sweet,” you coo. “Ok, baby, go ahead.”

With a grunt Frankie bends down, slowly adjusting his position between your legs so it’s comfortable for you, and when his soft warm lips kiss your cold cunt, you flutter your eyes shut with a pleased mewl.

Frankie’s always been the best at pussy eating. Joel often goes down on you but it’s different. He demands your ecstasy, claims your pussy with his mouth, makes you scream when his rough tongue impatiently rubs at your clit. His movements say ‘Give me’ while he’s eating you out.

But Frankie. He’s whispering “Take it”. Take your time, take your bliss, take my lips and tongue and use them, let yourself drown in pleasure. He laps at you softly and languidly, licking your pussy like it’s the most delicate flower, the most delicious fruit.

You grab your phone out of your pocket and text Joel that you met a friend by accident and need to catch up.

Frankie doesn’t see any of it, he’s gone, fully concentrated on pleasuring your soft cunt. His hands are gently holding your thighs apart, his face buried in your pussy.

“How’s she?” you whisper, raking your fingers through his silky curls and tugging on them slightly to get his attention when he doesn’t respond right away.

“I taste him on you,” Frankie grumbles, parting from your sex, “‘m gonna get it off you.”

He returns to work, making out with your folds and sucking the other man’s cum off your clit and you already feel yourself close to unraveling.

“Yes, like that, baby. My pussy misses you.”

You feel Frankie smile against your cunt before he begins stroking your clit with his tongue again and again until you cry out his name into your hand, while your hole clamps around nothing, walls contract and release another portion of Joel’s thick load.

Trembling from the orgasm that’s rippling through your body, you watch Frankie lap at your entrance, drinking the runaway seed and your slick, prolonging your shattering climax with this depraved act.

He doesn’t stop kissing your pussy until you get overstimulated and try to close your legs.

“Did so good for me, Frankie,” you murmur through heavy breaths.

“Thank you, mi amor,” your ex gruffs, sitting up, his face blushed, the gaze hazy and drunk on you.

He’s shivering from the arousal, his engorged cock generously leaking precum, and you take mercy on the man.

You scoot closer to him, wrap your hand around his hot cock and start slowly pumping it. It’s soaked with his juices so your palm slides easily over his hard length but to make him absolutely wild you gather some slick off your cunt and rub the underside of his cock where his tip meets the shaft with your wet thumb.

Frankie moans like a needy slut and in a second the first rope of cum shoots out of his slit.

You hastily lower your head, take the head between your lips and start drinking his load as he’s feeding it to you, jerking and thrusting his hips up, while your hand is gliding over his shaft.

You swallow everything to the last drop and lick it all over, cleaning his cock and earning a jerk of overstimulation from your ex. Then you sit up, wiping your mouth curled into a satisfied smile.

“Fuck, princesa, I love you,” Frankie breathes out falling onto the backrest, his cock softening but still standing at attention. You smile at his confession and your hunger finally seems satisfied.

You begin fixing your clothes and he watches you for a few seconds before tucking his cock into his jeans and then shifting closer to you. He gets into your space and you feel his warm hand pressed to your lower back. His huge frame is looming over you and you look up into his chocolaty eyes. They seem sad again.

“I want you back, mi amor—I... I need you.”

You sigh deeply and shake your head, taking his big hand in yours.

“You know it’s over, Frankie. I’m sorry, but I’m with Joel now.”

“Why? Why can’t you be with me? Why is he better?” He asks, furrowing his brows and leaning even closer to you.

“Baby,” you whine, averting your gaze from his puppy eyes and tracing hearts on his hand. “We talked about it. He’s …he’s like whiskey, he’s rough and heady and… you’re like hot chocolate, Frankie. You’re sweet but you’re too saccharine for me.”

“I can get rough with you, princesa.”

You giggle and shake your head.

“It’s not who you are, baby. And it’s ok. Someone will love you for it one day.”

You hear him sniff before he yanks his hand away from yours.

You know you should leave, break it off once and for all but the sick, mean, greedy side of your soul wants to pull him back as soon as you have pushed him away.

“Frankie,” you purr and grab his arm as he’s about to get out of the car. A slight touch from you is all it takes to stop him and he turns to you, his eyes glossy, his expression defeated.

You get closer to him and take his face between your hands. To kiss him goodbye. To poison him more.

He falls into the kiss head first, embracing you tightly, pressing his torso to yours so close it’s difficult to breathe.

You both moan against each other’s lips and you pull on his hair with passion and possessiveness. His tongue is licking into your mouth and you’re tasting yourself, sensing a faint trace of Joel’s cum. It’s so sick and twisted that another surge of arousal burns your core.

You make out for some time until you part from his lips.

“I should go, Frankie,” you whisper, snaking out of his embrace.

Frankie’s arms fall and he nods, looking lost and inebriated. You use this moment to hastily get out of his car.

“Bye, baby,” you chirp, smiling at him, but before you close the door he wakes up from the trance and calls for you.

“I won’t stop, mi amor,” he admits with determination in his shaky voice. “I’m gonna keep coming. I need you.”

“I know,” you say with a fake sigh and close the door.

You’re walking to get Tom, feeling Frankie’s eyes on your back, and trying to calm down, you bite your lip, but the excitement overwhelms you and soon a triumphant smile spreads across your face.

Thank you for reading!💖

MASTERLIST || more Frankie- The Hoodie

tag list: @milla-frenchy @harriedandharassed @iamasaddie @nervousmumbling @bbyanarchist @stevie75 @puduvallee @auteurdelabre @mountainsandmayhem @senoratess @flamingochick55 @theoraekenslover @schnarfer @mermaidgirl30 @staywildflowahchild @yesjazzywazzylove-blog @evolnoomym @keylimebeag @joelmillerisapunk

Tagging lovelies who showed interest in my Wip post @sawymredfox @604to647 @thundermartini @bonezone44 @casa-boiardi

[helen-with-an-a]

Badger

Hi. So this is a little thought I've had in my head for a while based on the fact that none of the English commentators can pronounce Ona's name properly.

Ona Batlle x reader

Description: You're convinced Ona doesn't like your nickname for her

Word Count: 4.2k

It had been a gruelling game, the ball rolling end to end creating little respite for any player. Goals were flying in left and right from both sides. It was a draw in the final minute of overtime and both teams were desperate not to share points. A spectacular tackle from Ona had prevented Hemp from scoring, allowing the ball to be collected and fed all the way back up the pitch. It had ricocheted around the City box before falling to your feet. It was instinctual, not thought or planning behind it, yet as the ball sailed pasted Roebuck’s fingers – it was like it was destiny. It was by no means your first goal for United, nor your first goal of the game. But it felt like it. The crowd erupted, the music drowned out by the noise and the rush of blood in your head.

The Blues had no time to score an equaliser. You watched as the seconds ticked down – City trying to press again, although the fight had clearly been lost in them. Finally, finally, the Ref blew the whistle. Old Trafford erupted. It had been an exciting game for the fans – lots of goals, tough tackles, harsh words, decent referring. As a player it had been exhausting but you wouldn’t have it any other way.

Ona was the first one to you, somehow making the distance in record time despite being further down the pitch.

“Mi hermosa superestrella!” She shouted as she threw herself onto your back. You stumbled slightly, your legs feeling like jelly as the adrenaline disappeared from your veins. “Mi maravillosa, hermosa, fantástica, increíble, magnífica, bella goleadora.” She littered each word with an array of kisses to your head, her arms wrapping around your neck as she made herself comfortable – clearly showing you she wasn’t getting down any time soon.

“Stop,” you whined, getting shy under her compliments.

“Nope, never.” She laughed again, squeezing her legs tighter around your waist in a hug. You discretely pinched the underneath of her thigh, close to the hem of her shorts. “Aye,” she squealed. “Can’t a girl compliment her amor de su vida after she had an incredible game?” She pressed a sneaky kiss to your jaw as you made your way towards the fans.

You knew the fans would be going crazy over your behaviour; you had never made your relationship a secret. Ona often featured in your monthly photo dumps, your Instagram stories showing carefully selected insights into your life. Her Instagram was the same, filled with private moments that neither of you minded sharing with fans. Videos of you after matches were all over the internet – hugs that lasted too long to be just friendly, kisses pressed into sweaty hairlines and shiny foreheads, your body being wrapped around her smaller frame as the final whistle went, neither of you leaving each other sides until you were sure they were fine after a tackle gone wrong.

You were walking you way around the stadium, laughing along to Mary and Tooney’s jokes as you fell into step with them. It was as you were passing Alex and Fara that you heard your name be called out. Instinctively, you turned – naturally bringing Ona with you as she was still securely wrapped around you. Alex was beckoning you over – a microphone outstretched and an expectant smile. You tilted your head back to look at Ona, expecting her to have loosened her legs by now. Yet her grip held firm, nodding in the direction of the TV cameras. You shrugged, readjusted her on your hips and came to join the women.

“And here we have Y/F/N Y/S/N and Ona Badger,” Alex said, laughing at the way you stood. Had she really just said that?

“Hi, sorry about this one,” you gestured with your head. “She always says her legs don’t work after matches.” You teased, the three of you laughing at Ona’s indignant squawk, yet she made no move to get down. Fara offered you a microphone, watching on as you looked around a little – struggling to figure out how you were going to do the interview with Ona on your back. Ona solved that solution easily enough, taking the mic and holding it where you need it. You squeezed her calf appreciatively.

“What a match, hey? How are you feeling?”

“Yeh, it’s insane. Derby’s are always hard, and we knew it was going be a fight today, but that was something else.” You chuckled, blowing a stray piece of hair from your face – thanking Ona absentmindedly as she delicately moved it away for you. “We all knew we had jobs to do out there and we just went ahead and did it. Not much more I can say really. I have absolute faith in these girls, and I think it showed today.” You hoped it was a reasonable response. You weren’t the biggest fan of the media side of football. Pre-recorded videos and challenges you could do no issue, but the live stuff - you hated it.

“And what about you, Ona? You were up and down that pitch today like a Yo-Yo.” Fara asked. You moved your head to the side, allowing Ona the space to talk.

“Sí. Again, I just did my job. It was this one that was putting them into the back of the net.” You blushed ferociously, thanking the lucky stars that you were already quite red from the match.

You continued the interview as quickly as possible – conscious that this was being streamed live to the BBC. You skin becoming redder with every passing compliment Ona threw you way. Of course, you gave them back just as often, but she wasn’t as embarrassed by stuff like that. Eventually, the interview came to a natural end.

“Thank you so much, girls, I’ll let you get back. Ladies and Gentlemen, Y/F/N Y/S/N and Ona Badger,” you heard Alex say as you turned away. You heard Ona groan in your ear as you carried on walking.

“Come on then, Señorita Badger.” You couldn’t contain your cackle as you helped her down to sit in your cubby.

“Detener,” she whined – her arms coming to cross over her chest. “They can never say it properly. It’s so annoying.” She moaned, burying her face in your clothed stomach as you moved to untie her braid.

“My love, they are atrocious at pronouncing non-English names, you know this.” You soothed her, allowing your fingers to card through her now-loose hair. “It doesn’t make it right, but it’s not personal.”

“It’s every game though. Every interview and time someone says my name its always ‘Battle’ or ‘Badger’. I can’t decide which is worse.” She complained, moving away from your body to look at you, pouting. You matched her pout; one had coming to cup her jaw and the other to lightly trace over the crease in between her eyebrow.

“I’m sorry, my lovely. I don’t know what to say,” you admitted. “But if it makes you feel any better, they’re always saying good things.” You tried a weak smile. “You’re our best defender.” You said honestly, pressing a kiss to her forehead. This time, she really did blush.

“Deja de mentir,” she sighed.

“I’m not lying. You are an incredibly, wonderfully, amazingly talented defender.” You laughed as her cheeks darkened yet again. “And all mine.” You finished off, placing a gentle kiss to her soft lips. “I love you.” You basked in the silence between you to a little longer before adding, “my little Badger.” Her eyes snapped open, scoffing as her mouth dropping open as you laughed loudly, scurrying away to the showers before she could retaliate.

You had been calling her Badger for so long now, that you had never considered what it might look like to others, or to her. After that day in the locker room, it had slowly become more and more integrated into your daily vocabulary. It started as a nickname you used to tease her, loving how riled up she became. But then you started using it in training, shouting it out when she did something particularly impressive. Eventually, it became like any other loving nickname. You were her mi amor, and she was your Badger.

It was something you hadn’t considered when you both made the move over to Spain. It was so normal at this point. Surely, she would have said something if she didn’t like the name? You used it all the time. You wanted her to pass you the salt and pepper? You felt sad and needed a hug? She was injured and needed comfort? You were pressed up against her in the Club dancing the night away? She had done something great in training? She was irritating the crap out of you? You were annoying her and being an all-round brat? She was always Badger.

It had never crossed you mind until Alexia brought it up after training one day.

You were walking out to the car, Ona tugging on your hand to hurry you up.

“Vamos, mi amor. Apresúrate,” she pulled you harder, taking your hand in both of hers.

“Badger, you go ahead.” You laughed as she pouted. “You’re the one going on a ‘La Masia day’. In case you’ve forgotten, I wasn’t raised here.” You teased, using your strength to pulled her back to your side. “I was told in no uncertain terms by Aita that this was a Catalan only event And that she loved me, but I needed to get lost for the afternoon. You need time with your people, and I am totally ok with that, Badger.” You smiled softly at her, melting as her arms wove around your waist.

“Ona, deixa d'estar tan enamorat i afanya't.” Aitana’s loud voice drifted from across the car park.

“A la merda, Aita. Que no tinguis núvia no vol dir que hagis de ser dolent.” Ona responded. You had no idea what she was saying but even with your limited Catalan, you recognised ‘núvia’ and guessed it was something to do with you.

“Go on, Badger. Go enjoy yourself, I’ll see you at home.” You cupped her cheek with your hand, giving her a gentle goodbye kiss. She squeezed you once more before running off after Aitana– shoving her as she climbed into the backseat.

“Do you want to come for a quick coffee with us?” A voice next to you made you jump.

“Fucking hell.” You turned to see Alexia, Mapi and Ingrid standing behind you. “Jesus, warn a girl next time.” You placed a hand over your heart and took calming breaths, glaring at Mapi as she chuckled at your reaction.

“We said your name like 10 times, chica.” Alexia smiled, taking your arm, and pulling you towards her car.

“Sorry, I was just … sorry.” You stared at the pavement, a bright blush rushing to your cheeks.

“Ella está enamorada” Mapi cheered, coming up to pinch your cheeks.

“You two are way worse,” you said, gesturing between Ingrid and Mapi. “Oh, mi vida, jugaste muy bien hoy.” You dramatically threw yourself at Ingrid, laughing with her at Mapi’s incensed expression.

“No sueno asi”

“Yes, you do.” You said at the same time as Ingrid. Mapi’s shocked face made you laugh even harder as Alexia unlocked the car.

“Maps, I don’t think I’ve ever heard you call her Ingrid. Even when you aren’t talking to her it’s always ‘mi vida’ or ‘mi princessa’ or ‘mi Tesoro’. I don’t think I’ve ever heard you call her Ingrid. It can be quite nauseating.” You goaded her as you took your seat in the passenger side. She gasped, jokingly offended.

“Al menos no llamo a mi novia por un animalito raro.” She clicked her teeth at you.

You eyebrows furrowed in confusion. Animal? You didn’t call Ona an animal, did you? Sometimes you joked she was a koala after the matches as she clambered her way into a customary piggyback – you often made teasing remarks that you didn’t need to see one during your time in Australia because you had one at home with you. But nothing repeatedly.

“Yeh, where did Badger come from?” Alexia asked. Ohhhhh. It clicked for you - sometimes, you could be quite oblivious.

“It’s not after the animal. English commentators and interviewers can never say her name. You must’ve realised that.” The Spanish girls nodded solemnly – often being a victim themselves of mispronounced names. “Well, it started off as a joke really, Alex Scott called her Ona Badger once and it kinda went from there really.” You explained, your attention drifting to looking outside the window

“Ona’s a better woman than me.” Alexia shook her head slightly. You turned back around, looking at her side profile as she drove you towards the coffee shop.

“How-What do you mean?” You asked, confused as to what she was getting at.

“If Olga called me Patella instead of Putellas, I’d go crazy.” Alexia laughed.

“Oh. She doesn’t seem to mind it. I … don’t think?” Did she mind it? She had never said anything to you about it.

“I never said anything when Olga called me Lex for a while. But it really got on my nerves.” She added, making you feel even worse about the situation. Does she really feel like that? Do you irritate her? It must do. What you had thought was just a joke and then an eventual nickname was based on the fact that someone couldn’t pronounce her name right. That would annoy anyone, right?

The rest of the afternoon passed in a daze, the coffee trip and drive back to the training ground carpark was all a blur. Your drive home and daily routine done on autopilot as your actions and behaviours played on repeat in your head. Did Ona hate being called Badger? She must do, right? Not many people in England had struggled to pronounce your name, and you had yet to encounter someone in Spain that couldn’t do it. Your thoughts rattled in your head – leading you to the conclusion that yes, Ona must not like being called Badger. You vowed to stop making her uncomfortable.

“Hola, mi amor.” Ona called as she walked through the door. You could hear the tiredness in her voice.

“Hey, Badg-baby.” You cleared your throat, hoping to cover up your mistake. “Hey, baby.” You kicked yourself mentally for your slip up. With all your internal worry, you missed Ona’s eyebrows scrunching in confusion. You seemed ok in yourself, a little distracted maybe, but nothing noticeable. You were standing at the open fridge, trying to figure out what to make for dinner – so it must be that, Ona decided. You must be distracted by what to make. She came up behind you, wrapping her arms around you and kissing your shoulder. You melted against her, like you always did. This helped calm Ona’s worries a little, beyond not calling her Badger, you were acting normal.

“What do you fancy for tea?” You asked, looking back at her.

“No m'importa, el que sigui més fàcil per a tu,” she said in Catalan. Her voice muffled by the fabric of your jumper.

“What was that, Bad-babe?” You asked her gently, recognising how tired she must be. You twisted around in her grip, closing the fridge door behind you. She looked up at you, a look of displeasure on her face. You chalked it up to her being tired from her afternoon out with the girls; she was actually annoyed that you had, once again, not called her badger.

“El que sigui més fàcil.” She repeated, still speaking in Catalan.

“The only word I recognised was fàcil, so I’m going to assume that mean quick and easy?” She smiled, as you let a finger trace over her freckles on her cheeks, something you always did when she was tired.

“Podríem fer la comanda?” She was still speaking in Catalan. Her tiredness often led to you trying to decipher Catalan – a language you were still trying to get to grips with. But you understood where she was coming from. If you were tired and then forced to speak your third language in your own home, it would not go very well. You really wracked your brains, trying to work out what she was saying.

“I’m sorry, B-honey. What was that?” You asked her, scanning your eyes cross her face.

“Order.” She said grumpily. You sighed, misunderstanding her mood again.

“Ok, my love,” mentally cheering as you didn’t slip up this time. “Let’s go to the sofa and we’ll order something.” You unwound her arms from your waist and pulled them over your shoulders, lifting her up as her legs wrapped securely around your hips. “My koala,” you teased, pressing a kiss to her cheek before she buried her head in your neck.

You hoped that Ona’s uncharacteristic mood was purely down to her tiredness. But after a full night’s sleep where she had refused to leave your arms – something that usually made her sleep like a baby – she still had an attitude with you. She had been fine when you woke up, a soft, sleep-filled smile gracing her beautiful face.

“Bon dia, mi amor.” She had croaked out, a gentle hum coming from her as you scratched at her head.

“Good morning, bad-baby.” Fuck, you had done it again. She pulled back from her beloved location (her face pressed against your neck, you giving her gentle scratches to gradually wake her up). With sleep still in her eyes, her hair a mess and that adorable pout, you couldn’t help but smile – you had, yet again, misattributed her pout for tiredness rather than the anger, and slight hurt, that she felt when you failed to call her Badger. She tried to think back to yesterday. You had very willingly let her go out with the girls yesterday after training, so that couldn’t have been it. Training had gone really well – you always had worked brilliantly as a pair. You had mentioned that you went out to coffee with Alexia, Ingrid and Mapi, maybe something had happened then? But you would have said something though, right? You were the one that was more open and in-touch with your feelings. You always communicated well with everyone around you, especially Ona. Yet, you were refusing to call her Badger. That name had originally been a joke, but eventually it had come to mean so much to her – it was something so unique to your relationship. Other couples could call each other baby, or love, or honey, or babe, or any of the Spanish equivalents. But only she got to be your Badger.

You were still behaving normally which is what threw her off the most. You made her the perfect cup of coffee – like every morning – giving it to her with a kiss to the top of her head as she sat at the table, trying to wake herself up. You held your hand out to her as you walked into the training centre, allowing her warm hand to intertwine with yours. You insisted she tie your hair back, humming quietly as she raked her delicate fingers across your scalp. You made her a plate of all her favourite foods at lunch. You let her rest her body into yours as you sat down, your arm coming around her shoulder as you talked to Lucy and Keira. You drove home with you hand on her thigh and the music blasting loudly. Yet you still hadn’t called her Badger. It was adding considerably to her strange mood – she wasn’t quite angry, but she wasn’t her usual bubbly self … grumpy … that was the only way to describe Ona today. Even Alexia and Patri had picked up on it, asking you if Ona was alright. You tried your best to assure them, telling them that she just hadn’t slept very well (a total lie – it was you that had lied awake staring at the ceiling as Ona’s breath puffed steadily onto your collarbone).

She led you into your house, scowling at you as you tried to make your way into the kitchen.

“Sentarse,” she growled at you, pointing at the sofa. You did as you were told – still very confused as to her behaviour today.

You looked at her, deeply puzzled, as she climbed onto your lap, her legs straddling your thighs. Her behaviour was not what you expected of someone that was angry with you. You pulled out every stop you could think of to help her relax; one hand on her waist, dipping under her shirt to rub at the smooth skin; the other came to cup her jaw, you thumb running repetitive strokes across her cheekbones. It worked, for the most part. She leaned into your hand, her breathing was less harsh, the crinkle in her brow disappeared.

“Oni, my darling girl, mi corazón, mi hermosa, el amor de mi vida. What is up with you today?”

“What is up with me? What is up with you?” She almost shouted, incredulous at the accusation that she had done something wrong.

“You’ve had a scowl on your face the whole day.” You explained, a finger coming to flick at her protruding bottom lip as exhibit A.

“Because of you!” You threw her arms up in exacerbation.

“Me? What have I done?” You tried to think of what you could have done to annoy her. You had stopped calling her Badger, you had let her choose what to eat for tea last night – not even complaining when she chose the place with the not-as-nice-but-just-as-expensive-Sushi – you had done everything as normal today, going so far to drag her away for a steamy makeout session in the bathrooms before practice. Was that what she was upset over?

“No m'has trucat, Badger” she whispered so quietly you could barely hear her.

“Oni, I’m sorry, but I didn’t hear you.” You explained “What did you say?”

“You haven’t called me Badger all day. And last night. Did I do something? Have I annoyed you? You always call me Badger unless you’re angry at me. So ... What. Did. I. Do?” She exploded at you, a lone tear streaking down her cheeks. She rushed to wipe it away, but you got there first, kissing her cheek at the same time.

“No, mi vida. You did nothing wrong.” You looked down at her hands in her lap, fingers fiddling nervously together.

“Then what is it? Cos you haven’t called me Badger in over 24 hours now. Something is wrong.” She implored at you.

“I know you don’t like it, so I thought it would just be easier if you didn’t have to tell me and it be all awkward.” She waited a moment, hoping you would meet her eyes. When that was apparently not going to happen, she lifted your chin up with a finger.

“Who told you I don’t like being called Badger?” She asked sternly. Just like the rest of the day, you misunderstood her emotions – thinking she was angry at you for figuring out her secret.

“N-no one.” You croaked out, trying desperately not to cry.

“Mi amor, who told you I don’t like being called Badger?” She asked again, this time her voice a lot calmer.

“It was something that Alexia had said yesterday. She said that Olga called her Lex a few times and it really got on her nerves, but it took her a while for her to say something. And she also said that if someone called her Patella as a nickname, she’d go insane. And it just got me thinking that what if you don’t like being called Badger, ‘cos it’s a nickname based on someone saying your name wrong, but you didn’t want to say anything and I-” you were cut off by soft lips pressing against yours. You hummed throatily as Ona’s hands twisted into your hair, you grip on her waist tightening, pulling her closer to you.

“Don’t think ever again.” She said as you parted, her breath fanning across your face, drowning you in her scent. You must have looked confused, even with your eyes shut. “You said all of this was because you starting thinking. So, don’t ever think again.” You chuckled, pulling her back to you, your lips moulding together perfectly. “You are mi amor. And I am your Badger,” she mumbled between kisses.

“My Badger.” You agreed, shifting yourself underneath her.

“Recuérdame mañana que mate a Alexia por plantar esa estúpida idea en tu cabeza.” She grumbled as you pulled on top of you again.

“Whatever you say,” you started to suck a hicky into her neck. You pulled back slightly so you could see her face. “Badger.” Her kilowatt smile was all the confirmation you needed that Ona really did like being called Badger.

I hope you enjoyed it <3<3<3<3

[corroded-hellfire]

Ok I feel like As You Wish!Eddie would be obsessed with that part in Enter Sandman where like he says the lines like “Now I lay me down to sleep” just to have his kids or reader repeat them back in like the innocent voice

Eddie lives his life by Metallica songs and teaches his children to do the same

Words: 1.1k

[As You Wish masterlist]

“Alright pipsqueak,” Eddie says, gently tugging on the toe of Eliza’s purple footie pajamas as he passes where she sits between her brothers on the couch. “Bedtime.”

“No!” Eliza says, quickly rolling over a hundred eighty degrees so she’s laying on her tummy and buries her face in the couch cushion. 

“Yes,” Eddie says. He scoops the remote up from the coffee table and presses the off button, effectively ending Shrek 2. “Come on. Go brush your teeth, little girl.”

Luke stares at his father and gestures to the television, as if to say we were watching that too, man. Rolling his eyes, Eddie tosses the remote into his younger son’s lap.

“Eliza Marie Munson,” Eddie says.

With a huff to show her father her displeasure, the three-year-old pushes herself off the couch and disappears down the hallway. Luke flicks the television back on and the last thing Eddie hears as he follows his daughter down the hallway is his teenage sons laughing at Puss in Boots coughing up a hairball. 

“Ah, ah, with the toothpaste.” Your voice floats out of the bathroom into the hallway, making Eddie chuckle as he passes and keeps walking into Eliza’s room. 

Deciding to mess with the feisty little firecracker, Eddie snatches up her favorite stuffed pig and lounges on his daughter’s too-short bed. It’s only a few minutes later that Eliza’s heavy tread can be heard coming down the hallway, the heavy footsteps baffling for such a small girl. The moment she crosses the threshold into her room, Eliza’s face scrunches up and her tiny shoulders rise up toward her ears.

“Hey!”

“Is for horses,” Eddie answers.

You’re two steps behind Eliza and the moment you see Eddie on the bed you chuckle to yourself. The Little Terror is about to be unleashed. 

“My bed!” Eliza launches herself up on top of her father, causing him to let out an oof as she lands on his stomach. “My Penelope!” Small hands go to grab the stuffed pig but Eddie’s quicker, moving the plush animal behind his head to use as a pillow.

“Wow, kid, you really need to learn to share,” Eddie says.

A long exhale blows from Eliza’s nose, and if you didn’t know any better, you’d say it was a growl. Scooting her body up Eddie’s chest, your daughter rests her forehead against her father’s, giving him the most intimidating look she can manage. She probably doesn’t realize that to Eddie it now just looks like she has one giant eye, though. Hardly intimidating–even for the toddler. 

“Did you give night-night kisses?” Eddie asks.

“Penelope,” is Eliza’s only reply.

“I’ll give you Penelope the Pig back once you give everyone goodnight kisses.”

Sitting up straight, Eliza eyes her father skeptically. When he raises his eyebrows at her, she must decide to believe him because she slides from his chest and lands on her carpet with a thud. 

“Ryaaaaaan! Luuuuuuke!” Her calls echo down the hall as she runs, the shouts accompanied by the loud thumping of her feet as she picks up speed. 

“And you wonder why she’s a menace,” you say to your husband, tilting your head at him as you lean against the door jamb. 

“I have absolutely no idea what you’re implying,” your husband answers, giving you the most innocent doe eyes he can manage. 

Before you can come up with a response, Eliza rushes past you, back into the room. She skids to a stop and spins on her covered feet to face you.

“Kiss, Mama!”

Happy to oblige her, you scoop her up in your arms and press kisses all over her face. Her giggles are infectious as she tries to dodge your lips, protesting that this is an overload of kisses. She gives you a quick squeeze around the neck and you can’t help but notice how she’s feeling heavier in your arms these days. It makes a part of you sad, remembering when she was small enough to lay in the crook of your elbow. 

Eliza wriggles out of your grip and makes her way back over to her bed. Her lower lip juts out in a pout and she bats her dark eyelashes at her dad. 

“Can I have Penelope now pleeeeease?” she asks in her sweetest voice.

“I guess so.” 

Eddie pushes himself off the child’s bed and hands his daughter the stuffed pig. He presses a kiss to her head and tucks her in as she snuggles beneath her blankets. 

“Okay, ready for prayers?” Eddie asks.

“Ready.” Eliza snuggles back against her pillow, clasps her hands together in front of her, and closes her eyes.

“Now, I lay me down to sleep.”

“Now, I lay me down to sleep,” your daughter repeats, making you smile.

“Pray the Lord my soul to keep.”

“Pray the Lord my soul to keep.”

“If I die before I wake.”

“If I die before I wake.”

“Pray the Lord my soul to take.”

“Pray the Lord my soul to take.”

“Good job.” Eddie leans down and kisses her. “Goodnight, Sweet Pea.”

“Nighty night, Daddy.”

Quietly, you slip from the room, Eddie right behind you. He flips the light switch, turning off her overhead light and activating her Mulan nightlight. Gently, he closes the door behind him, and the two of you pad down the hall towards your room.

“You think Wayne will ever catch on that’s from a Metallica song and not your devotion to God?” you ask, a smirk dancing on your lips. 

“Not if someone keeps her mouth shut,” Eddie says, grabbing your sides and digging his fingers into them. Giggles erupt from you as you push his hands away and stumble into your shared room.

“Hush little baby, don't say a word,” you recite the next line of the song, walking backwards towards your bed. “And never mind that noise you heard.”

Eddie cocks an eyebrow at you as he slowly saunters forward, coming closer to you.

“It's just the beasts under your bed,” you continue. “In your closet, in your head.”

“Yeah, well,” Eddie says, smirk on his face growing, “you’re about to have a beast in your bed.”

A soft yelp shoots out of you with a bout of laughter as Eddie tackles you down on the bed. He climbs on top of you and presses kisses all over your face, just like you’d done to Eliza. 

“Oof, she’s right,” you say. “Too much.”

“Oh, really?” Eddie teases. He scoffs and pretends to climb off of you. 

With a roll of your eyes, your fingers grip into the front of his t-shirt and you pull him back down on top of you.

“Get back here, altar boy.”

[323cutie]

6:52 pm | song mingi

fluff, suggestive. 550 words.

a/n anyone else feel betrayed by the marie claire photoshoot... Cover them up slut.

“You’re sick,” you mumble the second Mingi’s in your sights. He’s halfway through taking off his shoes at the front door and you’re livid, stomping over to him with your arms crossed over your chest. He stares at you, wide-eyed, slowly bending over to take off his shoe and then stand by your front door awkwardly, hands clasped in front of him.

He asks, “what?”

“Sick!” You answer, pointing a finger at him. He flinches like you do physical damage. “Do you know how many people are out there looking at you?”

Mingi sighs, but follows you further into your apartment, standing by the counter as you enter your kitchen to finish making dinner. “Baby,” he starts, and you huff. “I’m gonna need you to elaborate.”

You check the stew bubbling on the stove, give it a few short stirs before popping a lid on and turning the heat down so it simmers. “First it was your stupid, slutty little waist,” you say, cleaning up the scraps of onion and shavings of carrots, shoving them into your trash can and ignoring Mingi’s semi-scandalized look. You remember that photoshoot clearly, practically carved into the inside of your skull – the all denim fit, the delicious curve of his silhouette, perfect tummy on display with the help of his top. “Now it’s your stupid, slutty collarbones –”

Mingi laughs and you glare, and he covers his mouth. “Thin ice, Song Mingi,” you threaten, watching as he steps closer to you. “Pull something like this again and who knows what’ll happen.”

“Like what?” He asks with a small smirk, hands reaching for your own in between you. “You’ll start acting like a brat again? Get all jealous?”

You open your mouth to say something but are evidently speechless, feeling a hot rush of something kin to embarrassment creep up your neck and ears. No way to defend yourself, you huff, because, well. Yeah, probably. Not much else you can do when your boyfriend happens to be the hottest man in the world. You turn your head away from him like it might help.

Mingi hums and easily presses a kiss to your cheek, one of his hands leaving yours and cradling the other side of your face. “Don’t worry, baby,” he murmurs, pressing his lips to your skin again, then down to the edge of your jaw, your chin. “My stupid, slutty body is all yours.”

It makes you snort out a laugh, turning your head back to face him again. He’s fond, you can tell, enraptured by your semi-serious display of possession. His equally semi-serious reassurance comes through loud and clear. “I come home to you every night, and that’s not changing anytime soon.”

“Hmm,” you start, pretending to think hard. Mingi's smile grows each second that passes. “Maybe I can forgive you this time, then.”

Mingi giggles with you and kisses you once, twice, three times on the lips before you’re laughing too hard to really press your lips to his. You push him away with the excuse of finishing dinner but he stays close, arms wrapped around your waist from behind as you tend to the stew on the stove.

(Maybe later you’ll convince him to make it up to you. You think seeing him on his knees in person is much more deserving of your forgiveness than a photo.)

[bettysupremacy]

maybe reader has some mean fake friends and james comforts her after something happens?

james saves his pretty girl from some mean girls!

“C’mon, baby, I know that’s cold.” James frowns as he tugs your top up. It’s wet, and embarrassing, but you don’t move.

Coke and vodka drip down your elbows, staining the pretty white fabric of your new top, and most notably, your pride. It’s a gross reminder that those girls aren’t your friends, they’ve never been your friends, and they’ll never want to be.

Tears well in your eyes, embarrassment mixed with shame. Girls could be so mean.

James takes a moment.

He’s seen you cry- believe him, but this felt worse. Worse than him walking in on panic induced tears. This was heavier, and more delicate by far.

“C’mon” he breathes again, his shoulders slumped. It’s impatient, but not unkind. James doesn’t have an unkind bone in his body, he just doesn’t know what do do.

You shake your head, eyes squeezing shut, letting the tears drip down your cheeks.

“My love.” He laments, taking you in his arms. “Please don’t cry.”

The embrace is a warm reminder that james is always there for you. Always has been. Who cares if some mean girls ruined your new favorite shirt?

You had other friends anyways, James thought, you didn’t need those girls. Mary, Marlene, Lily, and Dorcus, had never been unkind to you. He didn’t understand why you wanted the other girls to like you so deeply.

But he’s never been a girl, and he recognizes this morosely.

He pulls away, knocking the tears with his knuckles, and not bothering to wipe them on his shirt. “Arms up.”

You can hear Sirius and Remus kicking the girls out over the loud crowd of a rowdy party. Your lip wobbles, so early into the party and the funs been spoiled. “None of that.” James smooths the wrinkle in your chin with his thumb.

The silence following the splash of liquid had been deafening, and by far the most humiliating thing you’ve ever experienced.

You take a peak at your shirt. It’s brownish, and wet, and It’s worse than you remember it being 4 minutes ago. Is that possible? The heels of your palms come up to your eyes. “My top.” You grieve.

“I’ll get you a new one, don’t worry your head off.” He tugs on your shirt again, gentle, but it gets your attention nonetheless. “Arms up.” He whispers.

You lift them, letting James tug the shirt off and wipe down your wet arms before throwing it into the garbage pail next to the toilet. It sits on a mountain of tissue and Remus’s used contacts. You look at it hopelessly, wiping your palms of tears. “I don’t want a new one.”

He shrugs off his zip up, messily pulling it onto you and zipping it to your shoulders. Stepping back, he admires his work of an outfit change. “It won’t just be new, it’ll be better.”

He tries to smile for you.

“You didn’t like this one?” You ask, glossy eyes daring to peer at his own.

His smile drops. “Are you kidding?” He moves forward and his fingers press into your arms, messily moving up and down for the friction of warmth. “I loved that one.”

“Then how’ll my new one be better?”

He pretends to think. “You’ll be wearing it.” You scoff in disbelief and he laughs, loud and defensive, “I’m serious! I love anything you wear, especially my zip up.”

You look down at the black hoodie. “It’s a bit big, no?”

“But it looks good on you.” He shrugs.

“It doesn’t show anything.”

“You know that’s never mattered to me.” He smiles boyishly, fingers dropping to the crook of your elbows and squeezing a little tighter than before. It’s cheesy, but it works. He leans down, smile still plastered on his face as he goes for a kiss. It’s warm and sweet, but you can still feel his grin. He works his hands up to your neck and behind, avoiding the coke vodka mixture still coating your damp hair. “You know that.”

You push up his slipping glasses. “I know.”

His nose twitches, preening at the touch of your fingers. “D’you reckon they have a hair dryer?”

“Sirius definitely does.” You nod.

He giggles, dropping to his knees to open the sink cabinets. “Sirius is going to kill us.”

[sagesolsticewrites]

religion's in your lips, the altar is my hips

in which Steve takes care of you after a bad day

- including but not limited to: praise kink, hair pulling, oral (f receiving), Steve lowkey being a service dom 👀

(this is. very self-indulgent. very veryyyyyy self-indulgent. you have been warned <3)

a/n: huuuge shoutout to @upsidedownwithsteve's (aka Emmy, Queen of Smutty Sunday <3) most recent smutty Sunday event for giving me inspiration to write my very first smutty fic! Obligatory disclaimer that yes, this is my very first smut fic ever, I am an ✨asexual virgin✨ please manage expectations accordingly, yada yada yada. Also so many hugs to my bestie Kenz @fangirl-imagines for looking this over before I posted it ☺️ Kenzie has some incredible fics, go support her y'all!

Word count: 2870

Warnings: THIS IS SMUT. MINORS BEGONE. 🔞

Please like/rb if you enjoyed! 🤍

You let yourself into your apartment with a sigh, shoulders relaxing the tiniest bit as you step over the threshold into your home and finally toe off your heels.

Bypassing the darkened kitchen and empty living room, you open the door to your bedroom, where you knew you’d find a shirtless Steve in the middle of his post-work ritual of playing some game on his computer.

He looks up as you enter, face brightening with a smile as he greets you.

“Hey baby, how was—”

In lieu of an answer, you flop face first onto the bed with a groan.

You can hear the smile fade from his voice as he hisses sympathetically, “That bad, huh?”

You lift your chin so it’s propped up on the pillow as you explain your terrible, horrible, no-good, very bad day.

“You know that project that Marie was working on? She asked me for help on it, and I gave her some pointers, but she said she still wasn’t really understanding it so I ended up having to do all of it for her. And she’ll probably take all the credit for it, too.” You grumble, rolling your eyes, “And we had that meeting with our new clients, and my boss basically volun-told me to take notes for it, even though that’s really the liason’s job, and then she criticized me for not taking as detailed notes as Lauren even though that’s literally Lauren’s job! And she was there, she could’ve taken the notes, I don’t even—”

You shake your head in exasperation, shifting topics, “And then I didn’t even have time for lunch because Sara wanted me to help train the interns, and…” You end your rant with a groan, letting your face drop back into the pillow. “‘M just. So tired.”

“Sweetheart…” Steve’s voice turns soft as the pillow underneath your head, and he gets up from his spot at the desk to climb onto the bed, pulling you into his arms.

You curl into him instinctively, your head finding that space in the crook of his neck that feels like it was made for you personally, one hand coming up to toy with the curls at the nape of his neck, tracing patterns along the freckles and moles dotted along his skin.

“What can I do to help, honey?” Your boyfriend asks, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head.

“Jus’ wanna… I dunno, just. Stop.” You mumble against his shoulder, shrugging and curling further into him.

He hums in understanding, grabbing the hand that’s currently drawing invisible hearts around the moles near his collarbone and pressing a kiss to the back of it.

“You’ve been doing so much for everyone today,” he murmurs, voice layered with understanding and adoration as he leans in and peppers tiny kisses over your forehead, your nose, your eyelids, and you relax even more as his voice washes over you, “Worked so hard.”

He pulls you closer, scattering kisses all over as you finally release all the tension you’ve been holding, letting out a sigh and shifting in his arms to face him. You don’t realize you’re straddling him until you’re pressed nearly flush against him, his arms wrapped securely around your waist.

His lips brush over every part of your face, down to your neck and then back up as you become putty in his hands, murmuring soft words of praise to you the whole time.

“You just need to stop working now, huh? Need to stop thinking,” His lips draw a path to your ear, where he whispers, “need to let someone else do all the work, huh, baby?”

A shiver runs down your spine, constantly in awe of the power just his voice has over you. His hand settles on your hip, a comforting, grounding weight while his other hand brushes a strand of hair back from your forehead. His lips work their way back down over your cheek, stopping to hover just over yours, mouths brushing together as he murmurs in a voice like silk, “Is that what you want, honey? Want me to take care of you?”

Warm chocolate eyes meet yours, soft, caring, always ensuring he has your consent before he does anything.

At your near-imperceptible nod, he drags his hand up to cup your chin, thumb dragging along your bottom lip.

“Need your words, pretty girl.”

“Yes,” you breathe, and that’s all the confirmation he needs to surge up and capture your lips with his.

As you brace yourself on his shoulders, his hands move to the thin strip of exposed skin where your shirt has ridden up. Your kisses become hungrier, ignoring your need for oxygen in favor of Steve’s plush, kiss-swollen lips, and he slowly drags up the hem of your shirt, breaking the kiss briefly to get your permission.

At your eager nod, your shirt is off and tossed to some corner of the room, his mouth eagerly on yours once more.

You can feel exactly how much he’s enjoying this through his sweats, and you instinctively begin to rock in his lap, dragging your increasingly damp core over his.

His hands grip your hips, the familiar feeling sending a thrill through you… but rather than guiding your movements like he normally would, he holds them still.

You pull away, brow furrowed, but before you can voice your confusion, he flips you onto your back, moving to hover over you in one smooth movement.

“I told you,” he murmurs against your lips in a tone that sends a pulse of scorching heat to your core, “I’m doing all the work, sweetheart.”

The whimper you let out is muffled by his lips on yours once more, his wandering hands and hungry kisses making short work of turning you into a moaning, gasping mess.

“Steve,” you whine out his name as his lips travel down to your neck, and you can feel his smile against the hollow of your throat before he returns to licking and sucking dark patches into your skin, the occasional use of his teeth making delicious shivers shoot up your spine.

“What is it, sweetheart?” He mumbles against your skin, trailing his lips along your collarbone. His eyes meet yours, a mischievous twinkle mixed with the searing heat in them turning you molten as he asks, “What do you need?”

Unable to find the words, your hand finds his hair instead — God, that hair — and begins pushing him down towards where you really want him.

“‘M gettin’ there, honey, I promise,” he grins, pausing your efforts to press a kiss to the valley between your breasts, “Lemme take my time and I promise it’ll be worth it, ok?”

He reaches up to toy with the strap of your bra— a simple nude thing you could get away with wearing under a white shirt at work— a questioning look in his eyes answered by a furious nod from you.

He makes short work of the clasp, and that really should not be as hot as it is, but— oh who are you kidding, even his breathing is insanely hot right now.

You throw your head back as he presses kisses all over your chest, mumbling against your skin the whole time about how pretty you are, just gorgeous sweetheart, God, I can’t believe I get to do this for you…

Your head goes deliciously fuzzy with the praise, and you can’t quite form words so all you can do when he takes your nipple into his mouth, swirling his tongue around it for good measure, is let out a keening “Ohhh” and instinctively tighten your grip on his hair.

“Fuck, sweetheart,” Steve groans, the noise sending heat racing through your body, and you grin knowing you were the one to elicit it, “You sound fucking incredible.” He murmurs more praise as he turns his attention to your other nipple, giving it just as much attention and eliciting more gasps and moans and whines from you before he continues his journey south.

You lift your head and watch as Steve Harrington fucking beams when he reaches your stomach, your pouch poking out slightly more than you’d like over the waistband of your jeans.

He meets your eyes, his own swimming with sincerity as he begins to scatter kisses over your midsection.

“You”

Kiss

“Are”

Kiss

“Fucking”

Kiss

“Stunning”

Kiss

When it seems like he’s covered every single inch of your exposed skin in kisses, remaining stubbornly focused on your torso when what you really want is for him to be significantly lower, he meets your eyes as he plays with the waistband of your jeans, once again wordlessly asking your permission.

And once again, your furious nodding is all the consent he needs to peel your jeans off and toss them away.

“Sweetheart.” He breathes, wide eyes on where your jeans once were, “Honey. Baby. Are you trying to kill me?” He says in a strangled voice at the sight of your simple lacy panties in a deep, wine-purple color— a color Steve once drunkenly confessed was his favorite, though he told anyone who asked he preferred red.

You bite your lip in an attempt to contain your grin, “I thought you might like those.”

“Like them?” He murmurs, leaning down to press a kiss to your inner thigh, looking up through lidded eyes to meet your gaze as his own darkens, “I never wanna see you in anything else again.”

Your toes curl, and your breaths become shallow in anticipation as he scatters slow kisses all along your inner thighs, carefully spreading them apart, stopping when he gets to the edge of the purple lace.

He holds your gaze, gauging your reaction as instead of pulling them down over your hips to toss to yet another corner of the room, he simply…

Pulls.

The lace.

To the side.

You barely have time to let out a quiet, shaky, “Oh my God,” at the ravenous look on Steve’s face before his mouth is on you and you forget how to think, you forget how to breathe, you forget everything except Steve.

Let it be known: Steve Harrington knew how to eat a girl out.

He licks a thick, fat stripe up your center, gathering the moisture collected there before darting up to flick at your clit, an action that has you gripping the sheets like a lifeline, a stuttering moan that sounds vaguely like your boyfriend’s name escaping from your lips. His arms hook around your thighs, pulling you close in an attempt to keep your hips grounded, and he continues a few more passes of the same lick, flick pattern until you’re a writhing mess underneath him, his current strategy both too much and not enough.

He pauses just long enough to meet your eyes, pressing a single kiss to your clit that sends a jolt of pleasure up your spine, before diving in.

His tongue finds your entrance with ease, the way his nose pushes through the thatch of wiry hair to nudge at your clit providing extra stimulation as he makes short work of making you fall apart. His tongue swirls through your folds as he lets out a languid moan at your taste.

“So fuckin’ good for me, sweetheart.” He mumbles against your core, “So perfect, lettin’ me take care of you. This is all you needed, huh?” His eyes flick up to meet yours as you shudder and moan underneath him, struggling to keep your eyes on him.

He licks another languid path through your folds, savoring your taste, before continuing, his voice muffled as he licks and sucks at your entrance “Jus’ needed me to give you a break, needed me to tell you it’s okay to turn off your brain and jus’—” Steve punctuates his last words by wrapping his lips around your clit and sucking gently “—be a good girl for me.”

The combination of stimulation to your clit and Steve’s words has your hips arching off the bed, despite your boyfriend’s best efforts to keep you still. You can feel him grin against you and let out a dark chuckle at the moan you let out at his last words in particular, the way your hand tightens and pulls at his hair all the evidence he needs.

Still, he asks you, though he doesn’t quite expect a coherent response.

“Aw, sweetheart. You like it when I call you a good girl? You like bein’ a good girl for me?” He purrs in a voice like syrup, lips still brushing your folds.

“Fuck, I— yes, Stevie,” you whine brokenly, gently gripping his hair in an attempt to bring him closer to where you want him, whimpering softly, “Stevie please.”

“I know, baby, I know,” he murmurs, scattering kisses frustratingly just outside your core, “Jus’ trust me, I gotcha.”

You resist the urge to move, to just grab him and put him where you want him, even as you let out a frustrated whine.

Just as your patience is about to run out, you feel him smirk against you before diving back in, holding your legs apart as he sloppily licks and sucks at your entrance, his tongue diving deep inside you.

You let out a gasping moan as he attacks your core, practically clawing at his hair in an attempt to pull him impossibly closer, your brain going fuzzy and then melting entirely when you hear the endless praise falling from his lips as he eats you out.

“So good for me sweetheart, just perfect— shit, do you have any idea how good you taste?” He groans against you, his thumb coming up to gently circle your clit as his other hand moves to splay flat over your hips, holding you as still as he can, “Could do this all fuckin’ day, god you’re amazing sweetheart—”

Then he clamps his lips around your clit and moans, and you’re fairly certain you’re going to die of pleasure, both your hands flying to grip his hair and yank as your back arches off the bed, your head falling back against the pillows, mouth open to let out a high, keening moan.

When you come back to your body, Steve is back to gently licking through your folds, and your hands claw at him, needing him to be closer.

“Steve,” you whine, “Stevie please, ‘m so close, I jus’— I need— please, baby.”

As your words turn into incoherent moans and pleas, Steve is quick to assure you, thumb returning to playing with your clit as he mumbles against you, “I know, honey, I know what you need and ‘m gonna give it to you, I promise. Been so good for me today, taken such good care of everyone, now it’s your turn, ‘m gonna make you feel so, so fuckin’ good, baby—”

He dives into you once more, thumb rhythmically circling your clit as his tongue hits every spot inside you in a pattern that has you turning to liquid underneath him, your legs hooking together behind his back to keep him right there, and your vision goes white as Steve brings you towards your release.

You let out a cry as you hit your climax, and Steve dutifully guides you through your orgasm, murmuring soft praises the whole time.

“Such a good girl for me,” he murmurs as he pulls away, mouth glistening and pupils dilated wide. Your hand cards through his soft brown waves, chest heaving as you catch your breath. Steve brushes gentle kisses to your inner thigh, your hipbone, your stomach, following a path up to capture your lips with his own, swallowing the contented sigh you let out.

He pulls away, meeting your gaze with a smile as he pecks your nose.

“Feelin’ better?”

You hum contentedly, “Much.” Your thumb comes up to stroke his cheek as you pointedly glance down, “What about you?”

Steve lets out a mock-annoyed groan, forehead coming down to rest on your shoulder.

“Baby, we just went over the whole thing about you not needing to take care of everyone.”

He lifts his head, meeting your gaze, “Seriously, though,” he presses a kiss to your cheek, rolling to lay next to you and pulling you into his chest, “I’m fine. This was about you, and I’m so glad I could help take care of you for once.”

You cup his cheek, turning his face to yours. You hope he can see every sincere, tender thought in your expression as you simply say, “Thank you.”

“Anything for you, sweetheart. You know that.” He murmurs in response, lips quirking up into a small smile as he turns to press a quick kiss to your palm.

“So,” he says, fingers stroking through your hair, nudging your eyes closed, “nap time and then appetizer dinner? We’ve got mozzarella sticks and some chicken tenders I can throw in the oven.”

You grin, despite already being half-asleep, “That sounds perfect.”

You can feel his smile as he presses a kiss to your forehead.

“I love you.”

“I love you more.”

“I love you most.”

“I love you infinity.”

“I love you infinity plus one”

“I love you—”

“Alright, let’s call it a tie, babe.”

Tagging a couple friends! Hi besties @austin-butlers-gf @sassy-ahsoka-tano @dontbesussis

[satorusugurugurl]

BACKYARD MOVIE NIGHT CHOSO PLS OMLLL

thank you so much. i love you.

Backyard Movie Night!

Summary: Marie’s Summer Fest prompt: Movie Night

Pairing: Kamo Choso x AFAB!Reader

Warnings: public play, handjob, exhibitionism, dirty talk, c*m eating, whimpering Choso

Word Count: 916

A/N: aweee Nonnie I love you too!! 💚💚💚 Could you imagine the pretty sounds Choso would make!? Goodness! Thanks for the request, Nonnie!

Phony B-grade screams and graphics play across the projection screen in the backyard. Yuuji and Choso had set up in the backyard for a movie night; the brothers had invited all their friends. Everyone had shown up! But no one was around at the current moment. Yuuji had stepped out with his friends to pick up the pizza with his friends while you and Choso’s friends were inside, grabbing more snacks and drinks and chatting with each other, leaving you and your sweet boyfriend alone in the backyard.

You didn't mind being alone—you two gladly welcomed it! Without your friends' prying eyes or teasing, you could happily lean against each other under the blankets you laid out hours beforehand.

If anyone were to look outside at you, they would find you both cuddling under the string lights, eyes focused on Human Earthworm Five; almost everyone in your friend group had seen this movie except you. Even though you told Yuuji you didn't need to see the last one to see the newest film, he insisted that you should watch it. The second he got back, he would start the next one.

No one wanted to sit through two movies from the franchise. So they left you and Choso alone, innocently watching the movie under the blankets. An innocent-looking scene. No one in their right mind would have guessed that your hand was wrapped around Choco‘s cock, stroking up and down while he tried to rub circles around your clit. Which was a tricky thing to do when you were making him feel so fucking good. Yeah, nothing debaucherous is going on outside!

“Honey,” Choso whispered through gritted teeth as his fingers twitched against your drenched folds. “I Haaah, nnngh fuck—”

Each time he tried to speak, you twisted your wrist with each expert stroke, your thumb brushing over his fernum. Each teasing touch pulled out more whines from the boyfriend’s mouth. His head lolled back as he struggled to keep up with you, to make you feel just as good. But at this point, you didn’t care if you got off. Watching Choso slowly lose the grip he had on himself was more than enough to tide you over until movie night was over.

The string of lights above you illuminated the sheen of sweat on Choso’s skin as he dropped his head forward, watching your hand furiously jerk him off from under the blankets. Your sweet, doting boyfriend can’t hear anything other than his heavy breathing and the wet sound of your hand moving over him and making him even harder as his dark eyes leave the jerking motions under the blanket to focus on you instead. Watching the way you bite down on your bottom lip solely focused on jerking him off, making him feel nothing but pure pleasure, and dear God, he feels so fucking good.

“Oooh fuck, fuuuuck, yes, honey.”

“Shh, sweetie, you don’t want anyone catching us, do you?” You question, squeezing his thick throbbing length.

“No.”

You learned in next to his neck, kissing his neck as he whimpers. “Then just relax like a honey. I’m going to take good care of you.” Your boyfriend shudders as your thumb runs over the slit smearing pre-cum all over his sensitive head. “I can feel you throbbing; you can cum for me, cum all over my hand.”

Just as the sliding glass door opens, laughter from your friend group floods the quiet backyard, and Choso clamps his hand over his mouth. They picked the absolute worst time to come outside as his orgasm hits him. He was whining into his palm as he cums, spurting out a hot, sticky seed that coats your fingers. You lick your lips as Choso’s shoulder shakes, body curling in on itself as he tries thrusting into your stroking hand.

He was so desperate when he would cum, it was so cute. Your friends look over as you rub your free hand up and down. To their unknowing glances, you were comforting him over a particularly gory scene on the projection screen.

“Oh fuck, that’s so gross.” Satoru gags out as he sits near you and Choso while Suguru joins his side.

“Yeah, I heard Itadori saying the next one is even worse. Are you going to be okay, Choso?”

“Mhmm.” Choso hummed into his hand, not trusting his voice.

When everyone continues their conversations as the pizza arrives, no one looks at you except for Choso. They didn't watch as you pulled your hand out of Choso’s boxers from underneath the blankets. Ever so slowly, he watches with burning red cheeks as you lick the cum off your hand before running your tongue over your lips, making sure not a drop is wasted.

He flushes a deeper shade of red once you place your hand, which was completely clean, on his thigh, and you so casually join in Gojo and Geto’s conversation like nothing sexual had just happened. Everything about the last thirty minutes had Choso's brain short-circuiting! The horror movie he could handle, but you were another story.

Forever Tag List:

@darkstarlight82 @pandoness @nealeart @simp-plague @sugurubabe @chilichopsticks @reap3erslov3 @wil10wthetree @luvsymai

Summer Fest Tag List:

@typicalife-101

[limonmelon]

armandaniel reclist

Because I really have to start putting these somewhere and because I need everyone to read these and give them the love they deserve:

outcast of all this night by gaypiratedivorce - "After a month in Dubai, Daniel Molloy is back home and miraculously alive, eager to get to work on his first draft. The vampire Armand has other plans." first in an insanely good (and complete!) series.

two truths and a liar by andrealyn - "Facing down the press junket for his book, Daniel Molloy is prepared to hype up his hit novel. He's less prepared to have Armand crash the tour to play bodyguard and doting assistant and he's definitely not ready to have his secrets spilled on a world stage because Armand wants to play games. The longer he sticks around to torment Daniel as he chases him across the country, the longer he stays. So, who's really winning this game?"

to the edge of the earth by andrealyn (you can tell I love her Daniel voice) - "There's nowhere that Armand can run where Daniel won't find him. Using the Talamasca's information, his own dogged determination, and eternity sprawling ahead of them, Daniel's going to find his maker and figure out why Armand keeps running. When he catches him (and he will), he's going to prove that it's going to be the two of them, forever, and that he's going to love Armand the way no one has before."

and then what? by andrealyn - "The droning hum of Louis' boredom is going to drive Armand mad. Instead of accepting it, Armand seeks out the kaleidoscope chaos that is Daniel Molloy's mind to learn why he's so special, so fascinating, so interesting. Every city he finds him in, he learns more before he makes Daniel forget. Every city, Armand grows a little more addicted. And every city, Armand does something he's not supposed to do -- falls a little more in love and eager to give Daniel the memories of who they are together."

his thoughts were red thoughts by spqr - "Daniel’s barely thirty; he can’t fathom one century, let alone five. It’s probably a wonder Armand doesn’t spend his time skulking in a cave somewhere, muttering to himself, covered in the blood and muck of his innocent human victims."

care and keeping by katplanet - "Louis shakes his head. “And now he's got you stepping on him.” Daniel picks his drink up and necks the last half of it. “I have not,” he says, “stepped on him, as of yet.” “But you want to.” “I think so?” Daniel puts the empty glass back on the table and scoots it out of their immediate limb radius. “I think I could want to. I want to want to.” “There you go,” Louis says, “tell him that. That'll set the mood.”" With some really great Louis/Daniel friends who love each other and also fuck too.

Endearments by Nothing_But_Paisley - "Daniel never compared him to a Botticelli angel or a Bernini cherub, never called him a demon or an imp. Such images scarcely existed within that wonderfully secular modern brain of his. Daniel was entirely a creature of the flesh."

open up your skull, i'll be there by typefortydeductions - "He shakes his wrist free and brings it to his mouth, licking up the trail of blood, his eyes never leaving Armand’s. He turns, and walks away, and spends a restless night in his own bed with his dick half-hard and the memory of Armand’s blood and Armand’s hands and Armand’s final whispered words before he upped and left Daniel sprawled newborn on the floor." this series floored me it's so good please read it.

mystic seaport is that way by exastris_scientia - "Daniel should really get more sleep and stop getting himself into these situations..." this series has it's boot on my throat. written pre-Season 2.

bend your dream with the road | VOTE TO END OTW RACISM by meronicavars - "Daniel is asleep dreaming of his own unreliable recollection of Louis at Polynesian Mary's all those years ago and Armand wants to dive into his dream and wrench Louis out, shake him until he realizes that Daniel is his, Daniel has always been his. Isn’t this something Louis should know? That Daniel was his gift to Armand. Why must you torture me with his presence? He wants to ask. Why would you bring him here if not to punish me?" also part of great series and written pre-Season 2.

the man who wasn't there by obstra - ""I just couldn't bear to lose you and Louis in one day.” Armand is looking away from Daniel now and picking more ferociously at the edge of his sleeve, like he's avoiding something big. He's almost afraid to ask, somehow he can tell this is going somewhere significant “Why would losing me be the same as losing Louis Armand? Just some kid you met decades ago in San Francisco, tortured a little bit then threw aside? Explain to me why. Does this have anything to do with the fact that my memory of the 70s has more holes in it than swiss cheese? I thought it was just drugs but I also thought San Francisco was just drugs and look how that turned out.”"

a haunting just for company by valkyrisms - ""I know what a breakup looks like," Daniel says. "The better question is, why are you coming to me about it? I'm the one who broke up your little sham." "This is what humans do, don't they?" Armand asks, letting his voice drop. "Crashing on their friends' couches when there's a blip in their romances?""

Simplicity by WendigoDreaming - "Daniel's memory is a gaping hole morphing slowly into the shape of Armand." also part of an ongoing series!

The Beginning Is the End Is the Beginning by trinityofone - "He should have left when he had the chance. But he wanted to see how it ended. His mistake. Because the story wasn’t done with him. All at once it was grabbing him by the throat. (A version of Daniel's turning featuring visions, sex, and sexy visions.)"

forever's gonna start tonight by trinityofone (actually just read all their IWTV fic thank you) - "I’ve lost my mind, Daniel thinks, still lavishing kisses to the chest of the creature that killed him. He says the next part out loud: “I fucking hate you. And you hate me. So something is making us do this.” “I don’t hate you,” Armand pants. “You mean nothing to me. Don't stop.”"

more to come!

[jaidens]

Only Bought This Dress (So You Could Take It Off)

pairing [s] : miguel o’hara x reader

warnings [s] : smuttyyy | miguel is big af | spanking, jealousy smut!! mamas favorite treat. | ripping of clothes | miguel is a jealous daddy teehee | name-calling | oml this mann

a/n : guys i really don't know.. except i want him..so

Whenever Miguel invited you to the Spider-Ball, you had no idea what to wear to be completely and totally honest. Your designer was confused whenever you showed her a picture of Miguel's suit and told her to work her magic. And your designer did such.

The colors of blue and red were prominent and it had a collection of dark-orangey red to compliment his webs. It was completely perfect and what you were thinking of without even explaining it. It was a soft silk fabric with lace covered around with strings of pearls.

You had found a matching lingerie set that would have surely made Miguel lose his mind. When he picked you up in front of your apartment you saw how when you walked down the steps in your long, stiletto red bottom heels and that dress he was anxiously moving in his seat and holding only small talk with you.

The limo stopped at a humongous, absolutely gorgeous building the event was being held at. Spider-Men and Women from all over were dressed to the Tens. The driver opened your door and held his hand out for you to grab. You thanked him graciously as you tangled your arm with Miguel's as he straightened out his suit and he looked down at you. “You look absolutely gorgeous tonight. I love this dress.” His hand touches your hip, rubbing across the delicate fabric. You smile up at him, tracing across his features and the moonlight that colors his face with beautiful carvings.

He helps you up the stairs, letting you use him as a guide to getting up with such tall heels and concrete steps aren't the best mix. His hand stays on your lower back, holding you closer to him when more and more people start to show up. When you walk into the beautiful ballroom, the white marble floors are covered with people and you look up at the expressive paintings that reside on the ceiling with admiration.

“Look at that ceiling. My goodness, it's absolutely gorgeous." Miguel looks up at it, and you get a sight of his neck, as it stretches “It’s pretty amazing." Miguel leaves to speak with another caterer of the party and you go talk to sweet Mary-Jane. Her bright red hair strikes you as she turns around quickly and drops her mouth open.

“Aren’t you just gorgeous? Oh my wow... I love this dress!” Mary-Jane compliments you while running her hand down your arm. “Look at you! I'm obsessed with those earrings." You and MJ hold small talk before Peter walks up behind her and pulls her away to the drink and food tables.

You find a conversation with Peter. You ask him about why he decided to come to the event. “It’s for charity, love. I'll always go to these types of functions if it's about charity.” You turn your head and see Miguel staring at you and Peter, and you're in for the game. You put your hand on his shoulder and you start laughing when he makes a joke about robbing banks.

But as the night reached its climax, a shadow was cast over the euphoria. My heart skipped a beat as I glanced toward the entrance, meeting the gaze of a familiar face. There he stood, his eyes narrowed with a simmering mix of anger and hurt. It was him—the man I had left behind, Miguel consumed by jealousy.

You continue such actions, just being more calm and touchy. You really only saw Peter as a brother and nothing more. Even after stating that multiple times, Miguel still got worried about him. The live concert band showed up and you got giddy and grabbed Peter's hand and asked him to dance. You were casually dancing with Peter until the switch partners part of the song began and someone grabbed your hand and pushed you close.

“Such a slut aren't you? We're going home after this dance.” Miguel is angry and you can tell. His words are cut off and you see his eyes slowly darken with lust and jealousy. You stare down and rest your head on his chest. “Acting all innocent now too.” You really weren't trying to act innocent. You were worried about beginning to do it because you knew how Miguel would act.

As we made our way through the crowd, I cast one last glance over my shoulder, yearning for the stranger who had stirred something within me. But all I found were empty eyes, longing for freedom that now seemed like a distant dream.

The sleek, midnight-black car cut through the city streets like a predator on the prowl. Inside, the air crackled with a mix of desire and jealousy, swirling around Miguel and me, creating an intoxicating tension. The dimly lit cabin was suffused with a primal energy that mirrored the storm brewing between us.

Miguel's hands gripped the steering wheel with an intensity that betrayed the seething jealousy consuming him. His jaw clenched, his gaze fixed on the road ahead, but I could feel his eyes flickering with a fiery mix of possessiveness and resentment.

Earlier that evening, we had attended a glamorous social event, where attention naturally gravitated toward me. Miguel had watched as I conversed and laughed with other men, his strong facade cracking with each flirtatious exchange. The allure of his jealousy fueled my desire, and now we found ourselves alone, confined within the intimate space of his car.

The engine's growl mirrored the tension pulsating between us, as Miguel's grip on the wheel tightened, his knuckles turning white. The silence was heavy, pregnant with unspoken words and simmering emotions, as we hurtled through the city streets with dangerous haste.

Unable to bear the weight of the unspoken, I ventured, my voice a gentle tremor, "Miguel, what's wrong?"

His gaze pierced through me, his eyes smoldering with a mixture of frustration and vulnerability. "You know damn well what's wrong," he muttered, his voice laced with a hint of accusation.

A shiver ran down my spine as I felt the air grow thick with his possessive aura. Miguel's simmering jealousy took on a life of its own, threatening to consume us both. I could sense the hunger in his touch, the burning desire to claim what he believed was rightfully his.

With a sudden swerve, the car veered into an empty parking lot, its tires screeching against the pavement. We came to an abrupt stop, the stillness amplifying the intensity of our emotions. Miguel turned to me, his dark eyes staring into mine, his breath shallow and uneven.

"What were you doing back there?" he demanded, his voice low and charged with a mix of anger and longing. "Flirting with Peter, teasing him with your charm."

A flicker of guilt danced across my features, mingling with the thrill of his possessive rage. "Miguel, it was harmless. Just a bit of fun."

His hand shot out, capturing my chin in a firm grip, his touch simultaneously tender and controlling. "Fun? Do you think I find pleasure in watching Peter vie for your attention?" His voice dropped to a husky whisper, laced with a possessiveness that sent a jolt of desire coursing through me. "You're mine, and I won't stand for it."

In that charged moment, the confines of the car became an arena for our desires and frustrations. The boundaries blurred as Miguel's lips descended upon mine, claiming me with a ferocity that matched the fiery jealousy burning within him. The car's interior became a sanctuary for our entangled bodies, as we surrendered to the intoxicating dance of lust and possessiveness, each touch igniting a passionate blaze that threatened to consume us whole.

In the passenger seat, you, a tantalizing and spirited woman, brace yourself for what you sense is about to unfold. The air is thick with tension as you exit the car, your heart pounding in anticipation.

Miguel storms around the vehicle, his movements exuding authority, and yanks open your door. Without a word, he seizes your wrist and pulls you out, his grip firm yet electric with desire. He gracefully opens the door to the large house and he starts angrily dragging you to the bedroom that you shared together. He flips the lights off and presses a button. The LED lights that sat above turned a dark red. His tan skin is even more beautiful and tantalizing than it was in the sunlight. 

He pulls his tie loose and he throws you onto the cleanly made bed. You bend your elbows to catch your fall. You put your knees up and close your thighs together, giving a sort of pleasure that was becoming single-handedly harder to hold back from Miguel.  He begins to kiss your neck, sending a tingling sensation through your body. His hands move to your waist, feeling the curves of your body before he presses his body against yours. You close your eyes, surrendering to the pleasure that Miguel brings.

His lips travel down to your collarbone, creating a trail of butterflies that spread throughout your body. You can feel the heat of his body against yours and your heart racing. His hands move to your back as he leans in closer, sending sparks through your soul. He looks into your eyes and your lips meet in an electric kiss. You're lost in the moment, feeling alive and full of passion. You never want it to end. You're stuck in this dream before you remember what got you into this mess. He pulls away angrily and rips the perfectly made dress off your body. You stand there, feeling exposed and embarrassed. "Flirting with Peter wasn't a good idea, was it? Or would you rather him fuck you? Your heart raced as he said those words. You felt ashamed. You knew you had to face the consequences of your actions and you were not looking forward to it. He pulls off his tailored suit and you have a full look at his strong chest.

Miguel crawls back onto the bed and he bites your neck. You moan out and grab at his back, your manicured nails scratching red marks on them. "Please.. touch me." You're completely embarrassed that you're begging for him after getting yourself stuck in this situation. He smiles, a wicked glint in his eye as he presses himself against you. His hands roam your body as he kisses your neck, his breath hot on your skin. You feel a wave of pleasure wash over you as you surrender to his touch. His hand runs down your body, tracing over the delicate lace that you were adorned in.  Miguel's hand travels just under the waistband of the panties, teasing you further. "You like the taste of your own medicine? I bet you do." 

His fingers skim the lace and travel further until they reach your core. He teases and tantalizes you until you can't take it anymore and you cry out in pleasure. Miguel smiles, satisfied with the power he holds over you. "Such a slutty baby. Bet you'll take anything anyone gives you?" You blush and shake your head, unable to find the words to respond. He grins and presses his lips against yours, letting you know he doesn't need your answer. Instead, he just wants to show you how much pleasure he can give you. You feel his fingers rub your clit in figure-eights. You're rubbing your hips against his hands. You're so close before you feel it; he rips his hands away and lays his fingers against your lips.

You accept his fingers into your mouth and suck them off your pleasure. You moan as he moves his fingers in and out of your mouth, savoring the taste of your arousal. His hands return to your clit and you're soon overcome with pleasure, arching your back as you reach your peak. He flips you over and pushes your head down into the soft pillows and pulls your ass up. You're staring at the mirror at his gorgeous body as he pulls his pants down and throws them on the floor.

You can feel his hand rub against your ass before you feel it, a harsh smack against it. You cry out and hear him speak, "I want you to count how many times I spank your ass. If you do it correctly, I'll treat you." You take a deep breath and start counting, determined to do as he asked. As the spanks continue, you feel a strange mixture of pleasure and pain. You grit your teeth and keep counting until he stops. You feel one last rub in a circle over the burning marks. "You did well, baby." He flips you back around and your head it sat between your pillows and he grabs a pillow next to your head.

You twist your body around to be on your back. You're staring into his dark, beautiful eyes. Miguel takes the pillow and sticks it under your ass. You're on display for him. Your legs spread wide to give him room to relax. His strong arms wrap around your thighs and you feel his breath on your core. He looks up at you with a smirk and then explores you with his mouth. His tongue and lips dance around your sensitive areas.

His lips move faster and faster, sending shockwaves through your body that cause you to arch your back and thrust your hips into his face. His tongue is like a warm, gentle wave, caressing you and making you feel more alive than you ever have before. You can feel your muscles tense up as you get closer and closer to the edge, and when you finally reach it you let out a loud, intense moan that echoes through the room.

"So good for me." He groans out as he comes back up from your core and your slick is on his chin and lips, shimmering in the light. Miguel sits up and you notice how tense his body is. He's hard, his tip is dark purple had gotten so worked up from eating you out and hearing your pleasurable moans that echoed throughout the room. You sit up and your hand travels down his abs and to his cock, stroking it. He leans back against the bed; his hands holding him up from falling, and you press your lips against his, tasting yourself and him. You can feel his heartbeat racing as you kiss him passionately. Your hand strokes him as he humps into your hand. "For how dominant you had been earlier... this is different."

Miguel looks up at you. His eyes have tears as you continue to stroke him. You can sense the vulnerability in Miguel as he looks up at you, his eyes glistening with tears. You can feel the emotion radiating off of him as his heart beats rapidly in response to your touch. He is letting you in, allowing you to see a side to him that he usually keeps hidden. You wrap your arms around him, holding him close. You whisper comforting words to him, assuring him that it's ok to let it all out. He relaxes in your embrace, feeling safe and secure in your presence. After a couple of quick thrusts, his abs tighten and he cums in your hand. 

He holds you and you lay in his arms. “You did so good baby. Let’s go get you in the bath.” Miguel picks you up under your aching thighs and carries you to the bathroom that was in your room. He sets you down on the chair that sat in the bathroom. He turns on the bathtub and the water begins heating up. Miguel picks you up once more and sets you into the bath. Your body stretches out and you relax. You share I Love You’s and you lay down for the night.

[mooshs-crack-headcanons]

Hi if requests are still open could I ask for nsfw headcanons for Erwin, Levi and Hange? Thanks so much in advance 😊🩵

Yaaaaay, veteran trio sure thing :)

Disclaimer: I use they/them pronouns for Hanji and since this request is NSFW in nature also AFAB language/terms will also be used for them. And Levi’s portion goes into the expected heavy shit about his childhood and Underground. ...Erwin’s I just... idk. Wrote with my dick I guess 🧍🏻‍♂️

Gender neutral reader (no pronouns used) with AFAB or AMAB anatomy depending on reader's choice since both options are lightly given. Hope that makes sense.

NSFW contents under the cut 😉

Erwin Smith

Dear Reader, I want you to look me directly in the eyes and try to tell me this man doesn't have a big dick - trick question you can't. The man is big all over. But he's very polite about it, not one to brag but it does bring a warm smile to his face to see your eyes practically pop out of your head the first time you're down on your knees, crouched down in front of the chair to his desk, mouth already watering as you quickly undo his belt and unzip him to be able to pull him out - only to go eyes owl wide when it nearly smacks you in the face. It takes a lot from him not to chuckle out when your hand goes to hesitantly wrap around it - only for you to flinch back when it twitches hello in your grasp, he finds it very cute actually.

Hairy chest. That's all. Actually no - hairy everything. It's great.

He is loud very loud - Erwin’s a loud man in general, kind of has to be when he's been in a military superior position for good portion of his life. But it didn't come up from that, no, Erwin’s always been loud when it comes to 'entertaining' lovers - even since he younger, if Erwin Smith is having sex everyone will know it, does not help he's a screamer (Nile and Mike have always teased him about it) but he sees no shame in it - just proof his lover(s) made him feel good and wears it like a badge of honor. And don't think he's alone in this, he will make damn well sure you're just as satisfied until your lungs go sore.

But if you are embarrassed of having people give you awkward looks afterwards, the solution is actually very simple: gag him. It could be with anything really; your underwear, your fingers, your hands around his thick neck, your hole/cock, get really creative with it :) And if you want yourself to not be heard, just tell him I'm sure he can think of some naughty ideas too.

Erwin has... complicated issues with relationships, both being Commander and focusing on attaining his dream he'd rather not be tied down to a serious relationship, but he has no issue with a friends with benefits type situation - stress relief. God does he need stress relief. However, if you are in a serious relationship with him then it's clear you're obviously very special to him - which also complicates things. For one I see him refusing to date a civilian so you have to be in the Survey Corps and fully understand what that means, to fully understand the 'delicate your hearts' oath and fully know damn well either of you could die at any time each time you step outside the Walls. Plus Erwin has a lot - and I mean a lot of enemies, you being someone someone so dear and close to him makes you a number one target and he knows that, he struggles with that, however it's a good motivator in a way; keeps him more focused and on guard, it makes him more careful, it makes him gather more and more blackmail on certain people if needed. That being said, the sex between you and him if you're dating - or hell married - is full blown romantic.

Don't get me wrong, he'll still blow your back out if you ask, but most of the times when you both find the time to sink to each other's touch it's with this air of gentleness Erwin has honestly never experienced with another partner, even Marie. You're... something special to him. Maybe it's because unlike past romantic interests - both men and women - you actually understand what's going on inside his head, you get how important his dreams are, you get his guilt, you actually know the... unspeakable wonder (beside all the titan killing fellow comrades thing) of what it's like outside the Walls. Freedom.

His kisses are so gentle yet grounded, he makes sure to kiss every inch of your body while muttering all sorts of praise and adoration with his lips pressed up against your skin so you can feel his words.

His big, thick fingers work open your hole/pump around your cock with steady rhythm as he takes you on his bed. He loves feeling your hands spring up and encourage his actions by messing up his normally perfect stylized hair and turning it into a complete blonde mess.

Loves hearing you, your voice sounds like absolute heaven to him if there is one and your voice crying out his name over and over and over and over and over again as he makes you come with nothing but his fingers/hand never fails to briefly send him there each time.

When he's inside you he can't help but feel overwhelmed, you're so warm and tight hugging your walls around him and if you're smaller than him he will never fail to tell you how seeing his cock not even able to completely enter all the way inside without the tip of his cock already pressed to deep that his head is rubbing at the deepest part it can go without you completely breaking entirely. If you're around the same size or maybe even a little bigger, then it's still the same, it brings a wide stupid grin on his face to look back as he has your legs tossed back and you're on your back you taking his prick all the way up to his base, balls resting comfortably against your ass. He feels ecstasy when he can start fucking deep into you.

When I said loud, I mean loud-loud. And if you're more than just an occasional fuck? Double that by like - twenty. He will vocalize each and every single thing he's feeling and is on his mind as he pounds into you. The headboard? Is banging against the wall so loud that Cadets two floors down in the Mess Hall can hear it and could mistake it for Wall Rose getting breached. It's an absolute miracle that shit hasn't split in two yet and especially with how one of Erwin’s hands clutches down onto it to keep himself grounded as he fucks you, moaning and groaning your name and all sorts of curses so loud that Levi’s viciously kicking the wall down the hall in his own office just as loud to tell you two to shut the fuck up but neither of you can hear it as you're so fucking lost in one another.

Call him Commander in bed. Do it. That twenty will turn into a hundred so fucking fast, not as fast as Erwin rearranges you to turn around - front facing the bedroom door - and straddling his hips with your back to him and your arms are held behind your back as he roughly bounces you on his lap. Everyone in this damn building and outside it will know what you're doing.

I mentioned his hairy chest? Yeah, well that adds a nice friction on your back and his chest is so plump you can lay back in them almost like pillows. Meaty, hairy, pillows. It's nice. They jiggle underneath you btw.

When he comes it's like a geyser going off inside you - literally. He'll fill you so full and your ears will practically ring from how loud he'll scream unless you quickly muffle his mouth up with your own or something, if not... well, everyone already knows what you've been doing at this point. If not? They certainly do now. But you try not to think about it, watching the flood of come pouring out of your when his cock slips out and staining both your and his thighs and the bedsheets.

Erwin acts practically drunk in the afterglow, his words are slurred and he has this wide toothy smile on his face you can't help but to kiss. This is the true stress relief. Here, his thoughts are the furthest from everything; the Walls, the titans, the Government, the Crown, the maybe-possible-if-his-father's-right people living outside the Walls... his dream... all of it. This is one few times he can completely distract himself away from all of it. He isn't Erwin Smith, Commander of the Survey Corps and accidental murder of his father - he's just... Erwin. And he's with you, just you - not Squad Leader (Name) (Surname). Just you, (Name). Nothing outside this very room matters, just laying in each other's arms and taking in the glow of being with one another. Knowing damn well you'll have to remember and face it all once you leave here.

But it's fine. He wouldn't be with you nor you would him if you didn't know that, if you didn't want to fight back against everything that be - if you didn't want Erwin’s dream to come true. And everyday, bit by bit you make further strides for that dream, together. You’ll reclaim Wall Maria, capture outside the Walls, beat the titans, learn the truth of what's to know about them. And see that thing mentioned in one of Erwin’s forbidden hidden books his father left... what was it again? Oh yeah, the sea. The ocean.

You two will see that together. You promised one another. No matter what.

Levi Ackerman

Right off the bat it should be stated: Levi has a complicated relationship with sex - it should be obvious, given how he grew up. Where he grew up. What his mother did for a living, and... he very much grew up aware of what she did. It's not just sex either, relationships, dating as a whole he's... complicated with.

Two things: Levi doesn't do causal flings, he doesn't do causal relationships. If he's with you in the first place it's because he loves you. If he didn't he wouldn't be with you and it's that simple, he's doesn't vocalize it much - he has... issues with words, serious, emotion-y words - but if you're with him at all romantically in the first place you already know him fluently enough to understand that. He doesn't have to say "I love you," very often - you already know he does, and when he actually does voice it, it's always at the absolute most vulnerable positions he can be to show you how much he genuinely means it.

Trust is important to him. Very important. He loves you, he wouldn't be with you if he didn't as we already established that. Sex? Completely different ball park. If he wants to he sexually active with you it is beyond trust with him. It's beyond just trusting his own life in your hands, it's beyond letting you handle his old knives, it's beyond trusting you enough to tell you horror stories of how he grew up, it's beyond telling you just how close Farlan and Isabel were to him that they were practically siblings to him, it's beyond telling you about Kenny and how for the longest time and still sometimes that it fucks him up to think... he knew his mother - doesn't know how, the bastard always refused to ever tell him, and then just one day for no fucking reason just... walked out. Walked out without a word or anything. Left him to barely survive down there on his own until Farlan and Isabel. How for years... he was convinced the bastard might be his father. Because what else could he be? Visiting and knowing his dead mother by name - her actual name - and picking Levi up and saving him when he was on the brink of starvation, if Kenny hadn't arrived when he did then... he might've very well been dead by the next day. It's just... or it was hard to think up any other possible explanation but this MP killing bastard being his dad. But now, he isn't sure - nowadays doesn't really care to find out, hell the bastard could be rotting in a ditch for all he cares. He's never told another soul that - just you. Between you and him there's something deeper than trust.

Now, I know a lot of other headcanons tend to make Levi out to be this super dom sexy sex sex man or whatever, but no. He has no fucking experience whatsoever, until he made this connection with you he absolutely refused to - always thinking about that sunk look in his mother's eyes after dealt with clients and how she'd fake the warmth in them to hide the hurt when Levi would be let back in the room by one of her lady 'work friends' and she'd talk to him so lovingly and sweetly... until she got another knock on the door and he'd have to leave again. That sunken look in her eyes immediately returning and even as a kid he'd want to attack the bastards he knew was the cause of her hurt. And that's how he seen sex for the longest time, didn't fucking help with all the degenerates pigs Underground. He can count on both hands and toes and it still not be enough how how many fucking pigs he's had to gut for staring at Isabel the wrong gross way - a child. Still makes him sick. All these years later. So he's stayed away from it. Fought against it, even up against the absolute worst the Underground had to offer.

However, the longest he'd had bad associations with it, but... with you it's different. You're different, different than a lot of people and that's because of the beyond trust thing. He can be different around you - not the smartass, foul mouthed, titan killing machine people know him as now, he can be... vulnerable, alone with you - and he wants to be. He really does, he loves you afterall and... he wants to give himself to you, completely, because that's how special you are but...

It's stupid, he tells himself - he's a grown man, he's in his late twenties right now, acting and beating himself up in such a childish way over a natural thing. What's wrong with him? But it's you to calm him down, telling him you don't have to do anything and that you're content just the way things are between the two of you now. That you didn't need to go further - ever if he wished, that you love him no matter what. But the thing is... he wants to. There's just this - this mental block he can't seem to get across, no matter how hard he tried. Humanity's strongest? Or whatever it is they're calling him now? Scared of what? He scolds himself. Losing his virginity? The two of you share a bed together to sleep in - this shouldn't - shouldn't - shit. But... you look at him. The two of you sit together on the bed and you look up/down/straight forward at him (depending on your height) and he just... feels at ease, he remembers why he loves and beyond trusts you in the first place, that everything's fine, everything will be fine as he puts a hand to your cheek, rubbing his thumb over your bottom lip as he gives a steady nod and melts his lips with yours.

That being all said, yeah, Levi’s a virgin. He doesn't really have all that much idea of what he's doing, just goes by his gut and will rely on you to actively tell him what to do, what you want, and how you want it. But Levi - being the prodigy in every new skill he learns, doesn't take long for things to start clicking together in place. Half in hour and your virgin lover you'd think was actually a sex deity in human form - things just... click for him in that odd way it does for him learning new things (weird fucking Ackerman genes in work in real time, actually)

Insane head-game. Think he mouth I'd just good for crass insults and shit jokes? Nope, but honestly that should be expected. After the first few experimental pokes and licks around, enough to get a good idea of how to get you going, will his mouth latch onto and kiss, bite, and suck around the opening to your wet hole then stuck fucking his tongue deep inside and thrusting in all the sweet places/or mark fondle your balls with his mouth before working up your shaft kissing your head before absolutely deepthroating and going to town on you - no gag reflex, shocker. He loves the way you taste and can go on and on and make you come again, and again, and again, and again repeatedly until you loose your mind or voice. Or both.

Want to play with his insecurities? Not maliciously of course, but in universe I think Levi’s thought of as """"""""ugly"""""" and if that's the case you can imagine what types of disgusting shit people has called/said to him. He doesn't mind or care, especially these days as he's older but... call him handsome, or gorgeous and Levi’s a really pale guy, even if he's been above ground a couple years he's still wasn't born a 'sun-walker' so when he blushes it practically dyes his entire face and goes all the way up to his ears. It's cute. Even more cute when he growls, frowns, and scowls as he tries to hide it and distract you by suddenly entering you - which breaks the facade almost immediately as he goes wide eyed and nearly out of breath as he feels you around him. You overwhelm him, he burries himself in your neck not to let himself bottom out. His chest rocks with each breath and he's quick to litter your neck and collar in bites.

Hope you like it here, virgin or not with that Ackerman stamina you're going to be here awhile as he absolutely rocks your world. For hours and hours on end until the both of you are drenched in sweat and the wall has a crack in it from the bed moving.

Very quiet - nearly silent actually except for the occasional gritted curse and heavy breathing. But the longer you go on the more comfortable he actually gets making noise; moans, grunts, and punched out intakes of your name.

He'll fuck you until your legs go numb, wrapped around his hips and encouraging every thrust he gives you and you'll come over and over until you're light headed, bit with him there seems to be no end in sight as he onyx colored hair swoops down and dances with each and every single one of his movements as he looks down almost dazed at you.

Tell him out loud you love him and he'll come on spot.

Silvery grays practically roll back inside of his head when he hits his release and he'll be louder than anything he's been all night before finally his body gives out and collapses on top of you. Wide pleased smile on his face that's for no one inside these entire damn Walls or below ground to see - accept for you. It's only for you. This all is only for you.

After falling unconscious for about forty seconds Levi wakes back up with his normal expected demeanor, this time he just lies there in your arms and presses himself lazily in your neck. When he speaks it's slightly muffled, but it's fine. You ask him if he had a good time - which he tells you is a stupid question and should be obvious, getting a light laugh out of you as you go to comb through his sweaty hair.

He makes it very clear later that this isn't a regular thing, a once maybe a month type thing until... he gets a better understanding with it. "Shit takes time, you know." And you agree, telling him to take all the time he needs which he just lies there for another lingering moments before pushing himself up and pushing his lips to your own.

A bath sounds good now.

Hanji Zoë

Doesn't really have that much experience, WAY too invested in their work to really have had the time. But! That doesn't mean they're not ready and willing to learn - very opposite in fact, honestly. They are absolutely over the MOON when you come out and say you want to fuck them! They get so excited that they rush off into whatever direction of the nearest library to learn and come up with ideas of what to do with you that they sort of leave you there behind in dust 😅 but not to worry, Moblit's there (somewhat very embarrassed to walk in on this exchange) but he promises you that your Squad Leader means well they're just... you know, eccentric.

Books on sexuality and other ""taboo"" stuff of that nature are looked down upon in the higher society of the Walls, but they're not that hard to find if you know where to look, and luckily Hanji knows where a bunch of them are - in fact they know a lot of libraries have them in a 'secret' section - but pulling a few strings and hinting at knowing about a married librarian's affair with a nurse down the street Hanji is able to gather a bunch of books to bring back to Headquarters! They spend all next and the next few days looking over them, reading them cover to cover - only having to explain to Nanaba once who came to visit their office and curiously had picked up one, only to immediately set it back down when seeing the one of the crude sexual diagrams drawn inside before immediately excusing herself.

So, with all this learning and newly attained precious knowledge and a bit of self discovery, turns out Hanji Zoë is a kinky mother fucker. They excitedly jot down all sorts of things that catch their interest, said list turns several pages long that when shown and told about your eyes nearly bug out of your head. Your face turns scorched hot as you tell your lover that maybe best for now just to... narrow it down to three things, then the both of you could talk and work up to it.

And that's where it stays for a couple of weeks, nothing really happens and things go on as normal, until one day when you're at the Superiors table in the Mess Hall as Erwin draws on and on about Banquet plans - AKA 'entertaining' and kissing ass to the nobles and the Brass to beg for funding for the next expedition outside Wall Maria - to you, Levi, Nanaba, and Mike, until suddenly Hanji comes springing down the hall and grabs your arm and pulls you completely off the bench seat to where you fall on your ass.

"Sorry-important-titan-research-matters-need-to-borrow-(Name)-bye!" And they drag you off, your ass still on the floor. Leaving everyone else at that table speechless.

You're about to scold your lover the moment you get inside the door, now at your feet, and your just about to until Hanji pushes you back against the wood in a feverish kiss that leaves you breathless. When they pull away they have a wide shit eating grin on their face. Okay. You're much calmer now. You let yourself be dragged across the small office and shoved onto the bed tucked in the corner - Hanji gives you a wink and excitedly goes for a couple boxes at their desk, handing them to you for you to open.

Rope. A... harness looking thing that looks like... underwear? With an odd hoop in the middle. And... a large phallic shaped object that makes your eyes go shot wide. Okay, you tell yourself. This must be their three.

"Two actually," They correct you without you even having to say it out loud. "-this is three." Without much effort they start pulling off their uniform to reveal the pretty white laced lingerie they have on that makes you go entirely speechless. They push their glasses up further on their nose with a head tilt. "You like?" You nod without even feeling yourself do so. "Good." You... didn't know to whether be scared or aroused at that glint in their eyes.

You're naked and tied up from post to post with the red velvety rope as your lover straddles you and map out every part of your body with their hands, committing each bump, scar, and curve to memory. Hanji looks at you with this inquisitive look in their eyes - the same look they get during one of their experiments but yet, it's almost different than that, or is it? They touch you and look back up to your face for a reaction, they like watching you squirm but not be able to do anything with your limbs tied and can only whimper and moan for them, they like that very much actually. You can't touch them either, as they straddle you your hips do buck into them - getting a gasp out of them but with their hands suddenly around your neck they scold you with a pointed wagging finger. "Bad, naughty."

Their hips starts grounding into you as they begin touching themselves with only you helpless to watch their hand disappear down lace panties and start working themselves over, making sure to make plenty of noises you can hear until suddenly their slick hand is shoved into your mouth and you're ordered to suck, which you do until they're roughly yanked out be replaced but their breathless kiss instead - tasting their own arousal off you. Then they get an idea.

With a wide smile off their face do they maneuver around the bed to where they're above you and moves the panties aside for you to eat at them as they sit on your face. They hum and moan out all sorts of praises as they let you know how good of a job your doing eating out their pussy like it was your last meal, and since Hanji wants to be the dominant party here, they're not afraid to order you around a bit - reminding you that they are your Squad Leader and you should address them as so. So get ready to add "Yes, Squad Leader," to each and every you say tonight :)

For being so good, they give you a reward: while you continue to eat them out, they'll bend slightly over, spread you legs slightly apart to comfortly position themselves to eat out your hole/or gag around your cock, all nice and good for their beloved favorite squad member until you both come at least a couple times each, and if you're to type to get overstimulated, they'll reassure how well you're doing and tell you in the softest voice they can: "One more, just one more." until you come again.

Once you're done with that and Hanji wobbles off the bed, legs shaking, as they go to gather the harness and dick shaped object off the floor. They slip off the lingerie panties and stuff them in your mouth with a; "Hold these, please." As your lover then boucy legs each of their legs through the leg-holes and carefully latches each strap - only pausing when they look over and realized they forgot the dick. Oopsie. Fix that.

With it finally on they kneel back on top the bed, untying yours legs and arms and rubbing each appendage carefully, muttering to ask if you're okay in your ear - you nod. Now, it doesn't matter to Hanji how big or small you are. You are going on their lap - no matter how maybe ridiculous you maybe might look, you are straddled their hips at your sex is rubbed against their fake dick. But of course, you're not getting it first without begging for it, or beg for it enough for your lover's liking.

When it's in and your hips are encouraged by Hanji's hands at your hips to start bouncing on it, at your own pace at the start, until a sudden slap to your ass encourages you go faster and you make a noise - muffled by the panties still in your mouth - to your lover's shit eating grinned delight as they start thrusting their hips to meet the back or your thighs in wet snaps.

Hanji absolutely loves having their chest marked up, after ripping the underwear from out of your mouth they'll hold your head to bite at their breasts that gets them to toss their head back in a satisfied hum.

Eventually, will push you to your back and start pounding away at you in their own pace, committing every sound you make to memory and drinking in every call of their name like they were on the brink of dehydration and bit by bit more they push you to the absolute edge - until you nearly scream out your climax, for it to be quickly smoothed by their lips and a tight fist wadded in your hair.

Both of you are jelly boned by the time your finished, completely naked now up in each other's arms and honestly half asleep. That is until you chuckle, nuzzling your face in the crook of your love's neck. "I think that might've been just a tad more than three things," you tell them, which they shrug. "What can I say? I got creative in the moment, you know - there's a ton of things in those books! Maybe some stuff you'll like-" You wave it off with a yawn.

"Maybe later. Nap time now," You can't help the amused smile. "-Squad Leader."

If you like what you read please consider reblogging! It means the world for writers and artists!

[bruciemilf]

I NEED more Poolverstorm content!

MY TIME HAS COME!

minute ororo shows up Wade is instantly obsessed. It’s not even romantic at first, — man’s saw how badass, caring, compassionate , patient, powerful, capable and brave she was and immediately went ‘new bestie acquired’

Will never stop bullying Logan for not choosing her since day one. Sir. If you think Wade’s gonna let him fumble the same bag twice you are MISTAKEN—-

Every interaction they have shortens Logan’s immortality (his bisexual senses are tingling and he needs 2-7 business days to recover)

One of Logan’s favorite memories from childhood is snowball fighting, sledding, — everything involving winter.

Wade likes autumn because it gets him one step closer to Halloween and he can finally order the pumpkin mega blast from Starbucks without feeling guilty. Ororo makes both happen specifically

WADE MAKES HER LAUGH!!! SO MUCH!!!!

Whenever someone asks Logan why he puts up with it, he just shrugs, “He makes her laugh.” (He’s so in love with Wade it makes him look stupid)

Wade had to plan an entire thing to ask Roro out. It was supposed to be extremely extravagant and complicated and grandiose, but, Logan went to Ororo instead, cheeks slightly flushed, and groaned something like, “Idiot’s just trying to impress you. Just…Don’t laugh too much? “

She already planned on accepting it, but she’ll indulge them.

Roro starts wearing Logan’s dog tags once they start going out. Wade basically steals everything from shirts to belt buckles, boots, tank tops, some of her necklaces, scarves, heels

Wade being slightly insecure about taking off his mask around them. At least at first. He tries to accept and adapt, — but it’s hard, when dating the prettiest people in the entire world! After Hugh Jackman, at least.

Ororo gently kissing his bare cheek one day, — maybe he lost his mask while trying to clean, or maybe Laura took it for her and Ellie’s play pretend games. She gets right and Logan gets left. “I like this face.”

“Yeah. Well.” He laughs because he’ll cry if he doesn’t, “you’ve always had a thing for weirdos.”

“Shut up, bub.”

“Okay, fine! Hot weirdos.”

Wade explaining how they call marry Roro legally if they kidnap the pope:

Logan is their GUARD DOG!!! Missions? One breath away from their neck. Claws out and ready. Shopping? Arms crossed, scowl on, daring someone to bother them while Wade tries to justify a 400 dollar Lego pruchase.

“My darling. No.”

“But it’s the WOLVERINE collection, Ro!”

Ororo sighs and gives Logan a Look. “Talk some sense into your husband, please?”

“When he’s annoying he’s YOUR husband.”

Blind Al and Ororo? Best of friends. Mother in law/awesome wife who loves her weird ass sons. Would test Ororo at first, like, “You can have everyone in this world and you pick those two? Why?”

“Wisdom has been chasing them but those two can run.”

“…Come sit next to me. You like cocaine?”

“Um—“

“OOOkay, — mushy introductions over, Laura, grab Mary, we’re LEAVING—“

LAURA ELLIE KITTY JUBILEE MOMMY DAUGHTER RELATIONSHIP WHEN!!!

Wade seeing how gentle Ororo is with the kids while still being firm, getting them in line when they don’t listen, but wrangling them expertly?

Ellie actually,,, ate her vegetables? Laura didn’t stab anyone over doing the dishes? Jubilee actually goes to sleep before 6 am?

“We have GOT to get her pregnant.”

Logan is so fucking tired. “I don’t think there’s a cure for whatever you’re on.”

“Alright, FINE. Get ME pregnant then.”

[latenightdaydreams]

Hello! Ik this is random but do you ever plan on doing a pt 2 to priest konig and nun reader?

I can! I love horny and sadistic Priest König with Nun reader that can't say no.

Priest!König x Nun!Reader Part 2 (fem)

Part 1⛪, Part3

MDNI🔞

Master List

>cw fem/afab, religion, disrespecting religion, virginity loss, kinky sexual acts

.

.

König grabs you harshly by the back of your neck and pushes you over an altar in front of a statue of the Virgin Mary. His hand grabs your veil and pulls your head back to look up at her. You look at her dead eyes, seemingly looking back at you. The altar room was small and only lit with the lights of candles.

With his free hand König begins to pull up your habit. He pulls it up and exposes your legs in a pair of black stockings and you are wearing a black thong, just as Father asked you to. His large hand caresses your ass before spanking you. You let out a small yelp as he spanks you hard, your ass stings. You wiggle your ass as you're forced to gaze at the Virgin Mary still.

“Tell me what you want, Sister.” His hand rubs over your ass before slipping down and rubbing your slit through the thin narrow fabric of your thong.

“I want to suck your cock.”

“You don’t want me to fuck you?”

“I- I can’t”

“Why not?” He moves the fabric to the side and begins to rub his finger between your folds, getting his fingers covered in your arousal.

“I’m a virgin, my body belongs to Christ.”

When you became a nun, you gave up your right to pleasure. The lord owns your body and time and you have to live your life to serve him.

“Stand and undress, keep your stockings, veil, and thong on.” Father König steps back and watches as you undress. Your cross chain that you’re about to put down gently gets snatched by Father. He places it in his pocket. “You’ll get that back later.”

You don’t argue and just continue to undress. Once done you stand before him in your veil, your black stockings, and thong. The candle light reflecting off of you makes you look simply stunning.

“Turn around.”

You turn without question. Again, you’re facing Mary, you look at her until König comes up beside you and reaches past you to the wall where a crucifix was hanging. Father looked at it in his hands before looking at you.

“Bend over the altar again.”

You look confused but bend over as he asked. He walks behind you and pulls your head back again, your veil and hair balled in his hand. You find yourself looking back into Mary’s dead eyes.

“Your body belongs to Christ, ja?” He begins to rub the solid wood against you, rubbing your clit making you twitch.

“Yes,” you moan.

“Then he should be the one to take your precious virginity.”

“No,” you begin to wiggle your butt as König begins to move the crucifix up along your folds.

Father König slips the crucifix into your tight entrance and you moan out in pain. König lets out a pleased sigh as he watches your reaction. Your hands reaching out and grasping the edges of the altar. The pain was surprising, you couldn’t wait for it to pass.

Father König pumps the crucifix in and out of your virgin cunt, a small trace of blood left on the wood. He watches as you squirm and begin to moan, enjoying getting fucked, just as he thought you would.

You close your eyes to enjoy the pleasure when König pulls your hair harder.

“Thank her for her son. Thank her for him fucking you.”

At first, you’re embarrassed that he would recommend that, feeling so taboo to sexualize Christ; but this does feel fucking amazing.

“Thank her or I stop.” Father says pulling your hair tighter.

“Thank you, Mary for Jesus.”

“More,” König groans.

“Thank you for Jesus!” You moan out loudly.

“Dirtier, thank her!” Father shouts.

“Thank you for Jesus, he feels so fucking good. Thank you, Jesus, for fucking me.” You go off as you feel as if you’re about to cum.

Father König quickly pulls the crucifix out and your legs get weak. “Stand.”

You stand and turn to him.

“On your knees, open your mouth.”

You drop to your knees and open your mouth. He looks at the blood and creamy pussy arousal left behind on the crucifix before beginning to guild it into your mouth. He slowly begins to lower it into your mouth. You gag slightly and he slaps your breast.

“Take it.” He says sternly.

His other hand moves to the back of your head and holds you in place. He continues to slide it down your throat until his arms stop you. He leaves you like that for a short while as you choke on the cross and taste your virgin blood.

“Stand, don’t take it out.”

You stand as he says. Your eyes watering from gagging on the crucifix. He fishes under his robe into his pockets and gets out simple clothes pins. He walks to you, cupping one of your breasts before pinching your nipple by placing the clothes pin on it. Your small whimper of pain muffled by the cross. He does the same to the other breast.

“Schön…” He takes a moment to look at you, now a new woman. His woman. He tugs at the clothes pins before once again grabbing your veil and pushing you to bend over the altar, but this time he presses your face into it.

König holds your head down as he bends over to see your pussy. Small traces of blood still linger.

“Is your pussy sore?” He asks to let go of your head but you keep it there.

“Yes,” You respond as you hear him rustling with his clothes.

“Good, I’m about to make it worse.”

Part 3

[jenna0rtega27]

I was thinking of G!p Jenna Ortega x female reader, where they think they are home alone and while having sex Jennas mom walks in on them. After they are done Jenna and reader awkwardly go down to the kitchen and Jennas mom says she hopes they used protection. Jenna goes red, looks down and her mom starts yelling about having kids and all. Thanks

Never to be done again Part 1

Masterlist

Thank you for asking 18+ Jenna Ortega x F!reader Summary: Request Warning: Jenna g!p, some smut at the beginning, Unprotected sex (Thank you so much for your requests and your likes. It really motivates me to continue sharing lots of stories about our Jenna with you. I love you guys).Number of words : 1441

Materlist

Part 2

Pov Jenna: “~Aaah yes~ keep it up baby. » I'm at my mother's house and my mother went to pick up Aliyah from a friend's house. And they go shopping. And the rest of my siblings aren't home. So me and my beautiful girlfriend are enjoying the peace and quiet at home.

Y/n is lying on the bed with her head on the cushions and I am on top of her. My arms are placed on the bed at both ends of Y/n's head to support myself.

I thrust into her making her moan. My favorite sound since I became a couple with this wonderful person. Y/n has her arms wrapped around my neck and pulls me closer to her. She kisses me. My tongue asks for access into her mouth and she accepts. Our tongues move in circles and I press our lips back together. I keep sinking into my lip.

We've been fucking for 30 minutes now. We managed to do 3 laps. And honestly it's weird that my mom takes so much time. But no one is going to complain about it.

Now it’s Y/n on top of me and I’m lying on the bed. Y/n sits on my thighs facing me and jumps on my cock. I put my hands on his thighs to help him move. I moaned at the sight of my penis moving in and out of her dripping pussy.

“You look so good in…”

“Jenna…” My mother comes into my room. I open my eyes wide like Y/n who immediately stops jumping on me.

“JENNA MARIE ORTEGA!” How many times have I told you not to make love in my house! »

My mother yells at me. Luckily, my bed is in front of the door, so my mom can't see my girlfriend's tits since her back is to her.

“And how many times have I told you to knock before entering my room! Now get out of my room. Let's get dressed! » I shout back.

“Fine but you better not do that again.” » said my mother, pointing at us.

My dear mother comes out of my room and closes the door. My girlfriend gets off of me and starts to get dressed and I do as she does. His silence makes me really anxious. I hope my mother didn't ruin our relationship.

“I’m really sorry about my mother. I swear I didn't know she was back. » I say as guilt invades my whole body.

Y/n looks at me and a smile appears on her face that makes me sigh in relief at not seeing her angry. She steps forward and takes my face in her hands.

“Baby, it’s no big deal. I knew this was going to happen to us one day or another. We make love all the time when we're at your parents' house. Plus I find it funny. » Y/n says as a laugh leaves her lips. I laugh with her.

" I love you my dear. I said lovingly as I wrapped my arms around his neck and scratched his head with my nails.

" I love you too. » Y/n replies with a lot of love too and wrapping her arms around my waist. I stand on tiptoes and place my lips on his. The kiss quickly becomes passionate.

“Jenna Ortega the conversation is not over, leave this room immediately. And Y/n you’re coming too! » said my mother from behind my bedroom door.

I stop the kiss and pull away from Y/n.

"Come on, let's go face the angry monster." » I say laughing at my choice of words. But Y/n doesn’t laugh. She is terrified and I can tell you that I am too. I can tell you that getting caught by your mother having sex with your girlfriend is the most embarrassing moment of my entire life. And I will remember it for the rest of my life.

We leave the bedroom and go down to the kitchen. I immediately look down when I enter the kitchen and look straight down when my mother looks at us with narrowed eyes. I know when her eyes are narrowed like that, she's angry.

I sit at the kitchen table in front of my mother. Y/n goes to sit next to me but my mother points to the chair at the end of the table without breaking the eye contact she tries to make with me but I keep my eyes looking down. Y/n does as my mother says and sits down.

“Is this the first time you’ve made love in my house?” » Natalie asks, clasping her hands together. I hold back laughter because my mother thinks she's a superb interrogator.

I shake my head and look up to pinch my nose.

“Jenna, Y/n do you realize that, DJ, Cash could have walked into your room and been traumatized. Even worse, what if one of the boys brought Mya? »

“We’re sorry, mom. But we were really careful. We waited until everyone was asleep or no one was home. »

“Yes, we’re really sorry, Natalie. It wouldn't happen again. »

I know Y/n is terrified. And I would have liked to be close to her to comfort her.

“I forgive you, but no more sex in my house understood? » My mother said, pointing at us both.

" Yes mom. » “Yes Natalie. » We both answered.

" GOOD. » My mother gets up but sits back down and looks at me.

“Did you use condoms?” » my mother asks me as she looks at me intently.

Fuck! I completely forgot the condom! We don't take condoms since Y/n is on the pill. So we never take it during our sexual relations.

Y/n and I look down in shame and I hear my mother let out a breath.

“Jenna!” Do you know what happens when someone who has a penis can do after unprotected sex!? »

I make a disgusted face as Y/n sinks back into her chair.

“But of course yes, mom, I know what it does! And Y/n takes the pill! » I then say that all I want is for this conversation to end as quickly as possible.

“But that’s not enough Jenna! Y/n could get pregnant even if she takes the pill! Should I give you a lesson on sexuality and the use of condoms? » My mother said, looking at us both.

" Mom! No! No way! » I respond quickly as I stand up. “Come on baby let’s go.” » I take Y/n's hand and she stands up.

" No no no. As a consequence of having made love in my house and without a condom, you are going to pick up Aliyah from her friend's house. »

“But weren’t you already going to get her? " I ask. And it’s only now that I’ve never seen my little sister.

“No, she was staying later after all. » My mother tells me and I start to panic. I look at Y/n with wide eyes.

“Don’t worry. I didn't hear anything so I went running. And I’m really happy I went for a run because my ears wouldn’t have liked it.” My mother says and I roll my eyes.

“Okay, I’ll go. Come on Y/n let's go. » I say before my mother intervenes.

“No, Y/n stay here. I am going to start my sexuality and condom use class. » Natalie said, taking my girlfriend's arm and leading her towards her. Y/n is as red as a tomato.

" But… "

“Don’t worry my dear, you will have time to attend my class too if you hurry. » My mother says to me without letting go of Y/n's arm and looks at me with a smirk because she knows that she always wins at this game.

I roll my eyes and look at Y/n. And she looks at me. I know she's telling me to help her. But my mother will never let her.

" Sorry. » I say on the lips. Y/n gives a smile that doesn’t meet her eyes. I know she is ashamed and would probably like to step aside.

I leave the house and head to my car. I look behind me and see Natalie waving goodbye to me and still with that shitty smirk on her face. Y/n is still as red as a tomato at the thought of my mother lecturing her on sexuality. I breathe and get in my car towards Aliyah's friend.

At least we will have learned our lesson. We will never make love in my mother's house again.

[httplilyyy]

𝐅𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐀𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 || 𝐀𝐋𝐄𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐀 𝐑𝐔𝐒𝐒𝐎

pairing: alessia russo x reader

summary: the world seemed to be falling apart at your fingertips.

warnings: swearing, hurt / comfort (i think?)

word count: 2.3k

a/n: listened to some sad songs (specifically sign of the times) and this was the outcome. it's a bit of a shambles but oh well.

woso masterlist

The final whistle blew and you felt yourself crumble to the ground. Laying on your back, you hid your face in your hands as the Spanish players celebrated around you.

It all came crashing down at once. You no longer held the high of being in a world cup final, only feeling sadness and remorse.

You soon felt a pat on your stomach causing you to remove your hands from your face. Your eyes met Mary’s, the goalkeeper looking down at you with dejection.

She managed to pull you to your feet and without any words uttered between each other, you knew how badly this loss hurt.

Scanning the pitch, your eyes struggled to find one particular person. But once your eyes locked with hers, you saw the tears streaming down her cheeks as she desperately tried to stop them falling.

As if your mind was in a world of its own, your legs carried you towards her. Your arms wrapped around her waist as she hid her face in your neck.

You held onto the striker with all your might, whispering comforting words in her ear as she sobbed uncontrollably into your shoulder.

Resting your chin on the top of her head, you looked at your teammates, each of them coping with the loss in different ways but you don’t think they could be feeling as bad as you did.

Your body went numb from the pain, you felt like you didn't have any more tears to cry. You didn't have the energy to do so anyway.

If you didn’t let yourself get distracted for one second, then you wouldn't have lost the ball in your own half leading to Spain's goal.

All you wanted to do was crawl into a hole and disappear. Even the sympathetic gazes felt judgmental. You could practically hear the news screaming at you for being the reason why England lost the world cup.

But despite how you were feeling, you made sure that Alessia was alright, all the way up until you were back in your hotel room.

Swiping the key card on the door, your heart started to feel just that bit more heavier. Walking into your shared room with Alessia you sat on the edge of your bed, your head finding its place back in your hands.

You hadn’t spoken a word to your girlfriend since the two of you were on the pitch and you could feel the tension. You hated it.

Before you could realise what you were doing, it was like the both of you were on autopilot. The two of you getting ready for bed but not daring to look each other in the eyes.

It pained you that Alessia felt as if she couldn’t confide in you anymore. You could hear her silent sniffles as the blonde tried her hardest to keep herself together.

“Less?” You tried, looking up from your bag.

“Yeah?” Alessia said hoarsely, her voice betraying her leading her to clear her throat.

“You know you can talk to me, right?” You said softly, nervously waiting for her response.

“Of course.” She replied but still not daring to look at you.

“Do you want to talk about anything?” You asked, walking over to her.

Placing your hands on her waist, you turned her around so she was facing you. Although, she kept her gaze on the floor.

“It’s all my fault.” Alessia said, the back of her throat burning from the unshed tears.

“Less, it’s not your fault.” You said, reaching for her hands but she moved them away.

“It is, if I played better then I wouldn't have been taken off and if-”

“Baby, its not-”

“What, ‘it’s not my fault’? Just stop! What else do you want me to say? Huh? That it's your fault instead?” Alessia snapped, throwing her hands up in the air and stepping out of your hold, finally looking at you in the eyes.

“If it makes you feel better, yes!” You said, taking a step forward only for Alessia to move two paces back.

“Fine! It’s all your fault! You were the defender, you made the mistake. It's. All. Your. Fault.”

“I know and I'm sorry.” You replied, eyes brimming with tears.

“Sorry isn’t going to change anything!”

“I know, I just-”

“You just what, huh?” Alessia questioned rhetorically.

“I should’ve tried harder.”

“You should try harder in a lot of things.” Alessia said dryly.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You stopped, taken back by her comment.

“Don’t act like we aren't falling apart.” Alessia stressed, her hands coming up to wipe away her tears.

“Couples fight, Less.”

“But that’s all we’ve been doing. We don’t spend any time together. It’s like we're not even a couple anymore.”

“Is that really what you think?”

“I don’t know what to think anymore. You’re barely home, always out doing god knows what.”

“I’m out training.”

“All the time? Seriously?”

“Well, not all the time but-”

“I can’t do this anymore, y/n.”

“What do you mean, you can’t do this?” You questioned, your heart jumping to your throat.

“This, whatever this is.” Alessia said, pointing between the two of you. “Us.”

“Are you breaking up with me?” You wondered, your voice a lot quieter than it was.

“I dont know.” Alessia huffed, the palms of her hands digging into her eyes. “Maybe a break would be best for us."

“If that’s what you really want?”

“You’re not going to fight for us or anything?”

“Jesus Less, what do you want me to say?”

“Anything! Something to show me that you still love me!”

“Fuck! Of course I love you! There isn’t anyone else in the world who I love more than you!”

You don’t know where it all went wrong. One moment it was about the world cup and the next it was about your relationship. Or rather what was your relationship.

The two of you looked at each other, chests rising up and down rapidly as you tried to calm down.

“Where’s this all coming from Less?” You questioned softly.

“I don’t- I uh, I’m just going to go to bed.” Alessia said, dismissing you as she climbed under her covers.

“Oh, well, good night then.” You said, smiling sadly to yourself.

Making your way to the other bed in the hotel room, you got under the covers yourself and pulled the duvet up to your chin. You could feel the tears falling down your face but you paid them no mind as you stared up at the ceiling, your mind slowly drifting off to sleep.

You don't know how long you were asleep for but you were woken up by the sound of shuffling and sniffles. From the corner of your eye, you could see the silhouette of Alessia moving around in her bed.

A loud huff filled the silence of the room and just when you were about to go back to sleep, Alessia spoke up.

“Y/n?” She questioned quietly, voice breaking as she tried not to cry again.

“Yeah?” You replied, resting an arm behind your head as the other laid on your waist.

“Can I- never mind.” Alessia said, rolling over onto her side.

“What’s up?” You asked, tilting your head to look at her, only to be met with her back.

“Nothing, just go back to sleep.”

You huffed to yourself, contemplating what you were going to do for a while before you pushed back the covers and made your way over to Alessia’s bed.

“Budge up.” You said, tapping Alessia’s back gently.

“What?” Alessia questioned, tilting her head to look up at you.

“C’mon, scooch.”

Alessia did as she was told and moved so you could slip into bed behind her. You wrapped an arm around her waist, placing your head on the pillow.

The striker immediately melted at your touch and for the first time that night, carried a small smile on her face.

“Get some sleep, my love.” You whispered, placing a kiss behind her ear.

“But-”

“Nope, we can talk in the morning.” You cut her off, pulling the duvet up for the both of you.

It didn’t take you long before you were asleep and many hours passed before you were woken up again. This time you were awoken by the sun peaking through the blinds and beaming down on you.

It was still the early hours of the morning, but you decided to get up. Just as you were about to, you felt a body start to shake beside you. Your arm, caught under the pillow, being held down by Alessia’s head.

You could see how, with every sob, Alessia’s body would shake. A hand covered her mouth, desperate for you not to hear her but it was no use.

“Less?” You questioned tiredly.

Not getting a response, you used your free hand to pull on Alessia’s shoulder, forcing her to turn towards you. She looked at you, her bright blue eyes showing her pain as she tried not to crumble at your touch.

She fully turned into you, her hands gripping onto your t-shirt, afraid that you’d go somewhere. burying her head in your chest, you wrapped your arms around her, rubbing a soothing hand up and down her back whilst the other ran its fingers through her hair.

With each movement you made, Alessia clutched onto you harder. She was getting more and more worked up, your top now completely soaked with her tears. Seeing her like this made your heart twist painfully.

“I- I-” Alessia said, trying to get a word out, her voice breaking as she spoke.

“Hey, you’re okay.” You said, pulling her head to rest just above your heart. “Focus on my heartbeat.”

After a little while Alessia’s sobs ceased and her grip on your shirt lessened. You kept her close to your chest as she calmed down. Once she pulled away you finally got a look at her face.

Her eyes were bloodshot and red, her cheeks were all blotchy and her eyes no longer seemed to hold the illuminous blue that they always do. Her throat kept bobbing up and down as she tried to keep the tears at bay.

You reached a hand to cup her cheek, brushing away the stray tears. She leaned into your palm, giving it a kiss.

“You okay?” You asked, voice cracking as you were so quiet.

Alessia went to speak but opted for a small nod instead. You let out a small chuckle and pulled her back into your embrace.

You rested your cheek on the top of her head, inhaling the scent of her shampoo.

“Want to tell me what’s got you so worked up?” You tried again.

“You.” Alessia sniffled, her response coming out muffled as she nestled in your neck.

“Me?” You parroted.

“About last night.”

“Oh.”

“I took the loss out on you and I'm so sorry.”

“It’s okay, promise.” You assured her, “and I know I’ve not been the best partner recently.”

“Why is that?”

“I wanted to surprise you with something but it fell through and I didn't want to take my stress out on you.”

“Oh.” Alessia mumbled.

“What?”

“I uh I just thought you didn’t love me anymore.”

A lump forms in your throat and you feel tears prickling the back of your eyes. You swallow the emotion and try again but it doesn't work.

“God, Less I'm so sorry.” You said, feeling the back of your throat burn. “For everything.”

“Maybe we need to work on some things.” Alessia said with a small shrug..

“Definitely, maybe my defending a bit more.” You said jokingly.

“Oh one-hundred percent.” Alessia laughed.

“Hey!”

“But seriously,” Alessia said, sitting up so she was facing you, “if you want us to work, you need to talk to me and not shut me out.”

“I’ll work on that, I promise. I never want to make you feel like that again.”

“I know.” Alessia smiled but it soon turned into a frown. “I kind of don’t want to go home.”

“Why not?” You wonder, sitting up too.

“I know we made history by getting into the final it's just-”

“-Not the same.”

“Yeah.”

“I’m not sure i can say the same.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, as much as I am heartbroken over the loss and I’ll be beating myself up about it for the rest of my life, I can’t wait to get back home and finally just have some me and you time.”

“That does sound nice.”

“I won't miss the spiders, that's for sure.”

“I’ll bring one back just for you.” Alessia teased.

“Oh really?” You questioned, raising an eyebrow to test her.

“Yup.”

“God, I love you.” You said, flopping back onto the bed and looking at the ceiling.

“Yeah, yeah. I love you too.” Alessia smiled, leaning over and pressing a hand to your chest so she could place a kiss on your lips.

When she pulled away you chased after her but she pushed you back onto the mattress.

“That’s all you’re getting for now.”

“For now, hmm?” You said, wiggling your eyebrows.

Alessia rolled her eyes but leaned in for another kiss. You gently cupped her cheek, pulling away from the kiss to look in her eyes. You leaned forward once more peppering kisses to her forehead, then to her nose, to her cheek, jaw, all over her face.

You felt Alessia’s cheeks pull up into a smile causing you to stop and look at her once again. Not saying anything you fell back on the bed, bringing Alessia with you.

She rested her head on your chest, intertwining your fingers and resting them on your stomach before you both drifted back off to sleep. The two of you smiling despite the outcome of yesterday's match and argument.

There wasn’t anything that could pull you apart.

[wynonnahyde]

The saloon was lively, most if not everyone dancing, drinking, or socializing. Two younger people had recently been wed, so naturally, it was time to celebrate the new couple. Wynonna sat at the end of the bar, smiling as she watched everyone dance around, a smile on her lips. It had been a little, at least in her time, about 3 weeks since her horrid week. She wasn’t healed by any means, but she felt much better than she did, just had to be careful as any harsh hit to her chest or stomach would make her collapse.

She wasn’t drinking, which came as a surprise to most people, rather, slowly eating some chips that the saloons owner had made himself. She hummed along to the song on the piano, smiling at a few people as they passed by.

Later into the night, a younger man sped into the building, eyes darting around until they landed on Wynonna, speaking to an older woman. He quickly passed the crowd, excusing himself as he intervened.

“A—are you Wynonna Hyde—? Sand-spider?” He asked, his voice trembling.

Wynonna looked at him, a little off guard as she looked at the boy. “Yeah? Why?”

“There’s been a sighting out by the towns watering hole, where we all put our horses during off season, and sheriff has gone missing.”

“Missing-? How long?” She was shocked, no one went missing, especially the guy who uses his gun more than handcuffs.

“4 hours now, he said not to get you, but I heard a yell up by there and— well you catch the bad guys! I’m just a watcher at the jail!” He rambled, hands shaking as he looked into her eyes.

She hesitated, but sighed, nodding as she stood to her feet, nodding to the woman as a goodbye as she started to walk away, the boy following.

They exchanged more details, apparently a guy who was a little to snake like was out by the watering hole, seeming to be waiting. “And when the sheriff left, I heard a yell and couldn’t find him! So—so I came to get you..”

“…I—I’ll see what I can do, okay kid? If I ain’t back you get some people to come looking.”

The boy nodded, watching the woman start to walk off, her shadow disappearing into the darkness. It was a moonless night, visibility was low, very low, meaning you couldn’t really see who was around. Her steps were slow, and quiet, scanning the area as she slowly made it to the watering hole.

“…Sheriff? Jacob sent me out here, said you was missing?” It was silent, no reply. “…Timothy? You out here?”

Yet again, there was so reply, making the hair on her neck stand up. She was looking at the water, the towns watering hole, somehow, the water stayed, it was deep, about 6 feet, some people said it was an old burry sight that got abandoned, then filled. Everyone sent their horses down here during off season, when there was no work to be done.

“…fuckin’ hell man, c’mon don’t do this, Mary and Andrew just got married, we don’t need a death…” she sighed, going to step back to walk more down west, before a snap of a twig filled the air, her senses firing as she turned her head, seeing Timothy standing by the waters edge, staring her down. “Shit! Jesus, Timothy you scared me straight a moment…are you okay? You look like you’ve done seen a ghost.”

“I should’ve killed you when I had Johnny.” He simply said, his voice calm, cold.

“…what…?” She took a moment to reply, raising an eyebrow. “…Johnny died at the hanging tree, his guts were ripped open, what the fuck do you mean by that.”

“You stupid woman,” he spat, stepping closer, hands twitching. “My daddy spent his entire life tracking your family and his, just to die three day shy of your wedding?! and you all get off SCOTT FREE”

“Johnny was turning his life around, that man was fixing what his family had done! Your daddy wouldn’t leave us alone! We had never done anything!”

“Exactly why your father paid me to end it, you were to valuable, if I caught you two, I would have taken the entire ring down!”

“…what.”

She stood still, staring at the man as he started to chuckle, rolling his eyes. “What..? You thought it was a random man? Idiot!”

“…you…no. You—you helped me take him down from the tree, you helped me keep his guts inside.” She said lowly, breathing slowly.

He scoffed, eyes rolling as he held a sick grin, “you did the easy part in killing your daddy for me.”

Wynonna just blinked slowly, her hand moving to her side, grazing the fan, and handing on the handle of her gun, her breathing turning ragged. “You…fucking…BASTARD.”

She ran at him, drawing her gun, which caught the man by surprise as he stumbled back, a few gunshots ringing out. They struggled, Wynonna blinded by pure rage as she tried her hardest to shoot the man, a few bullets raining into the air.

“YOU FUCKING BASTARD. HE FAUGHT SO HARD TO MAKE A LIFE FOR US. WE WERE GOING TO HAVE A CHILD. WE WERE GOING TO BE SAFE DOWN IN WASHINGTON.” She screamed, her voice ragged, a guttural yell.

The man simply grunted, looking for a way to get her down, the two ending up in the shallow end of the waters. He let out a yell, and hit her ribs, causing her to gasp, loosing air as she fell to her knees. The next moments were a blur as he struggled, shoving her down into the water with a splash. She let out a yell, trying to grab a breath of air before her head went under the water.

His hands wrapped around her throat, held down under water, she fought, she really did fight hard, but she was loosing air. She clawed, she hit, she kicked, she tried to get up, nothing. Her head was getting fuzzy, her eyes hurting, her chest begging for air. She inhaled, water rushing into her lungs as she gagged. She felt weak, her mind slowly starting to fade, and in her final moments, her thoughts were only one person, the one person she made a promise too. Rider, Doll, Juniper, June,

Junie.