#NOT THE CLAP OF HIS CHEEKS PLS

[1captainjordan4]

A more... PG version of Joel causing thunder, FT. Lizzie being a scaredy cat

[swatato]

I TURNED OUR YATOMA VS YATORI DEBATE INTO AN ACE ATTORNEY VIDEO LMAO

BROUGHT TO YOU BY THE NORAFAM DISCORD

Starring: @relv07 as Ema Skye, @stupidusernamepolicy as Iris, @floweryfandomnerd as Edgeworth, @nahrgles as Phoenix, @hallucxnatingblog as the two faced judge, @shinkimiope as Godot, and myself as Von Karma :D

[tender-rosiey]

i need more dad!gojo pls 😔🙏🏼

sulking — gojo satoru x f!reader

a/n: there was an anon that requested this scenario specifically but for some reason I genuinely can't find their ask so anon if you see this, i hope you will like it! <3

“s/n! get your tiny naked butt over here!”

your son squeals as he waddles away from his chasing dad and goes towards you, “mama!”

“yes, honey?” you reply, before turning towards your son and finding him all naked. at least, he didn’t escape from the tub, since he is still dry.

you giggle and pick him up, “what are you doing you little trouble maker?”

he kicks his feet and points upstairs, “pa!”

“oh, you’re escaping from papa?”

your son nods eagerly, looking around for any sign of said man.

“found you!”

your son squeals and hides his face in the crook of your neck. you pet his hair and look towards your husband who is…also butt-naked. you sigh, “satoru, at least wear your boxers before you chase the kid.”

“aw come on, wifey; it’s nothing you haven’t seen before,” he smirks, leaning towards you and lovingly kissing your cheek, “plus you deserve a show every once in a while.”

you pinch his nose, making him abruptly pull back with a pout, “if you want to give me a show, don’t do it in front of our son, you over-grown pack of hershey’s.”

“do you mean the cookies and cream one?” satoru says, eyes shining at the mention of one of his favorite snacks.

“yes, and I hate it.”

he gasps audibly, before taking s/n from your arms and into his own, “let’s go, s/n! we shall not tolerate mom’s slander for the hershey’s again!”

and so your husband marches back with his (still butt-naked) son to the bathroom.

satoru sets s/n on the sink, and looks down at the tub, “hey, at least the bathtub is full now,” he puts his hand in the water, “and it isn’t too cold for your small butt.”

s/n gives satoru his angriest look, before looking away with a huff.

satoru chuckles before tickling him, “you’re so cute,” s/n breaks character and starts giggling, and satoru starts cooing, “you act like your mama when I annoy her.”

satoru swiftly picks him up in one arm and points at the stash of bath bombs, “which one do you want to use?” he walks towards the box, and s/n instantly holds it with his strong hands.

satoru laughs, “oh you want all?”

s/n doesn’t respond. instead, he aggressively pulls the box towards him, luckily, satoru is able to hold it in his other hand before it fell.

he looks at his son with a pout, “you were going to create a mess, little guy.”

“mess!” your son claps and your husband can’t find it in him to scold him.

so your husband joins in on his chaos and raises him up high, “yes, big mess!”

your son squeals, reaching for his dad’s cheeks. then he starts rubbing his face on satoru’s the moment he is low enough to reach him.

he starts biting satoru’s cheeks and screams, “love you, baby!”

“love you too, my little buttered cookie,” satoru coos, unfazed by the baby eating him alive. he doesn’t let him linger though as he pulls him off his face, “time for a bath, stinky.”

s/n frowns and tries smacking satoru, but your husband quickly gets into the bath. the moment s/n touched the water, he started clapping and trying to dive deeper into the water.

satoru held him just above the water so he doesn’t fall into the bathbomb-filled water, “nuh-uh, you’re not going to fall face first into the water,” satoru spins s/n so he can settle him into the bath butt-first.

s/n wastes no time in playing with the soap foam and starts splashing everywhere.

your son is sat on the stair of the bathtub—a huge bathtub by the way, satoru specifically ordered this one for other activities though. s/n is beyond the moon and almost treats the little stair like his throne.

your husband can’t stop smiling, to the point his face starts aching, and he starts using the bubbles to form two little cat ears on s/n’s head.

your son’s curiously keeps trying to look up, but starts huffing when he can’t see the top of his head.

satoru then decides that the best solution is—“y/nnnnn! can you come over here with a camera?”

“okayyyy!” he hears you yell and shifts his attention to s/n to keep him entertained until you appear.

he leans down a little, exposing the top of his own head to his son and challenges him, “do your worst.”

your son’s—clearly inherited—competitive nature fuels him into gathering as much as bubbles as he can to place it on his dad’s head.

after that, he starts diligently molding the foam into the shape he had in mind. satoru just keeps on humming quietly, letting s/n do his magic.

once s/n finishes, he retracts his hand and clumsily mimics his dad’s proud pose, and satoru feels happier and happier as he spends time of his little ball of joy.

caught up in his emotions, he picks up s/n to hug him, but s/n slips from satoru’s grasp and into the water.

your husband is panicked right away, hands frantically searching and splashing around to get hold onto anything of his son.

he has half a mind to blast all the water away, but quickly decides against it, especially when he hears a “boo!” behind him.

your husband turns to s/n, who is giggling at finally getting to his father, and hugs him tightly, “papa’s sorry he dropped you, s/n.”

s/n, ever the empath, starts imitating what he see you and satoru do when the other is sad: he starts patting his dad’s back with a murmur of “’s ‘kay.”

satoru thinks he is going to sob right then and there, but you finally enter the bathroom, and satoru and s/n quickly perk up at your presence.

“mama!”

“wifey!” satoru grins and starts scrambling to make a new pair of cat ears on s/n.

and so you’re met with one of the cutest sights of your baby that you have ever seen. he is beaming with a smile so contagious that you don’t even notice one being instantly on your face.

he is also sporting a pair of bubble cat ears, so, of course, you get out your phone and start snapping away.

“s/n, look at mama!”

“yay!”

after a couple of photos, you hear someone clear his throat, and you look to your side to see a very pouty satoru. he huffs and looks away from you, “imagine ignoring the love of your life for a small mochi.”

“we made this small mochi, ‘toru.”

“exactly!” he declares then locks eyes with you, “that means I am the original and I should be appreciated more, anyway—what do you think of his cat ears?”

your husband’s tone switches almost instantly and starts fangirling about s/n, taking him into his arms and lightly bouncing him on knee, “he is so cute! almost as cute as me, right?!”

“you’re so right! he is the cutest cutie to ever exist!” you coo, arms reaching out to s/n, and your son throws himself into your arms with no hesitation.

you secure in your hold before chuckling, “you’re mama’s cute boy, right?”

you feel satoru stare daggers at your soul, but ignore him for the time being, “did you actually shower or do anything to clean, s/n? you smell stinky.”

your son frowns at that and buries his face in your shoulder to sulk. you stifle a giggle and question your husband about something that has been on your mind since you entered, “also, satoru—“

he perks up.

“—what is that blob of bubbles on your head supposed to be?”

and that, my friend, is how you got stuck in the bathtub with your two boys, each burying their face into your shoulders and—you guessed it��sulking.

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copyright © tender-rosiey

do not copy or plagiarize or you will be reported

[nereidprinc3ss]

do you believe me now? | 3

in which spencer reid spends a rainy day teaching inexperienced fem!reader how to touch him. of course, her efforts don't go unrecognized, much less unrewarded

part one | part two

18+ (smut) warnings: inexperienced reader, softdom!spencer, sub reader, oral m receiving, reader swallows lol, a truly sickening amount of praise, like really, you JOKINGLY refer to each other as dirty sluts, r has longish hair, spit mentioned once, thigh riding (moans loudly), its filthy idk what to tell you, i feel like i've crossed the desert on foot i don't even know what else is in here, your honor they're in love, i take you to dinner first, this part is stupidly long a/n: had a fucking field day the three separate times i had to rewrite this el oh el... but think i like how it turned out?! anyway, if u like this PLS lmk bc writing it took a small piece of my soul, and yes there will be a part four!! take care of yourselves!! i love you!!!

You give Spencer half a minute or so before knocking on his door for a second time. 

It’s miserable outside, and though the hallway you’re standing in now isn’t terribly cold, you’d much prefer to be in Spencer’s apartment, where it will be the same toasty 68.5 degrees as always. Not that the heating will magically dry you. And not that you’ll be there for long, if the date you’d scheduled last week goes on as planned. 

You’re getting worried, about to knock for a third time when the locks finally click and the door opens to reveal a disheveled Spencer Reid—not at all looking ready for a date. You take in his ensemble; blue checked pajama pants, FBI Academy crewneck, the usual questionably paired socks. He’s rubbing his droopy eyes, which slowly widen as he notices your attire. 

“Shit, I’m sorry, our date! I mean—you look really nice. I look… like this. Why don’t you come in while I get ready to go?”

He holds the door open a little wider and you step through, relishing in the familiar warmth as you pull your hood down and excess water droplets spatter on the ground. 

“When did you get in?” you ask, hanging your raincoat up on a hook. You know he’d wrapped up a case yesterday evening, but you’d gone to sleep before the team left Cincinnati. 

Spencer pauses in the middle of the room, staring at the antique flooring like he forgot what he was doing. 

“Uh… four hours ago.”

“Wh—four hours? Spencer, you must be exhausted.”

He laughs awkwardly, running a tired hand over his face. 

“I mean… I’ve definitely felt better.”

You kick your soaked shoes off and cross the room until you’re toe to toe with him. Immediately his hands settle on your waist and yours find his arms. His eyes are kind, and he’s clearly pleased by your presence despite his lack of energy. 

“The weather’s terrible, anyway. Let’s just go out another day.”

His features have softened and you can see how tired he truly is—not just in his bleary eyes, but the way his fingers grasp weakly to you, the way his head bows slightly. It seems bone-deep. 

“But I haven’t seen you in a week. I don’t want you to go home.”

Your lips twist. A clap of thunder rolls in the distance and the rain starts coming down even harder against the windowpanes. 

“We could hang out here. We can take a nap!”

Spencer sighs—half resignation, half disappointment. 

“But we made such good plans,” he laments. 

You kiss his cheek. 

“Plans that can be rescheduled. The bookstore will still be there next weekend.”

It takes him a moment to settle into the idea, but you watch the exhaustion win. 

“Okay. But no nap. I want to be awake for you. Coffee?”

You nod enthusiastically, beaming at the prospect of getting to spend the day doing nothing with him. Spencer mirrors your grin, before pressing a kiss to your head.

“You’re so cute.” Heat creeps into your cheeks and you can’t think of a satisfactory reply, but in the end you don’t need to, as he tugs gently on your hands. “C’mon. Tell me what mug you want.”

The kitchen counter bites into your palms as you lean with your back to it, watching Spencer putter all around the kitchen as he works on the coffee. It makes you tired just to watch. 

“Are you sure you don’t want to take a nap? Caffeine isn’t a substitute for sleep, you know.”

“I do know,” he agrees, measuring coffee grounds. “But other than last night, I actually slept fairly well this week.”

“You seem exhausted.”

“I… am tired in lots of ways. Not all of which can be resolved with more sleep.” he admits.

Your heart drops ever so slightly at the way his voice weakens as he looks through the fridge. Sometimes you remember there are still things you don’t know about him—sides you haven’t met. His work side is one of them, and it more than a little intimidates you.

“Bad case?” you ask, voice quiet and crackling with nervous energy. 

Spencer nods, approaching and setting a carton of milk on the counter behind you—caging you in with his arms in the process. It’s hard to find the words when he’s this close, but you manage to stumble through them. 

“Do… do you wanna talk about it?”

Spencer hums, tilting his head before gently saying, “not right now. But thank you for offering, lovely.”

“Okay, well—if you change your mind… if there’s anything I can do to make you feel better…”

Finally he stops with the teasing—the unabashed staring at your lips, the faux-attentive nods—and drops his head to your level to kiss you properly. It’s obviously an attempt to get you to shut up, you’re not dumb enough so as to miss that—but you don’t really care why he’s doing it so long as he does it at all. 

“I feel pretty great right now, actually,” he murmurs against your lips, a hint of a smile coloring his words. “Do you want sugar in yours?”

“Um…”

Your eyes dart helplessly between his as he pulls away and you struggle to un-fluster yourself enough to answer his simple question. Spencer seems to delight in this. The longer it takes you, the bigger his perfect smile gets. 

“You took too long. You’re getting sugar.”

“Are you sure there’s nothing I can do?” you plead later on the couch, for the third or fourth time, setting your mostly-empty mug on the coffee table. 

His eyebrows raise. 

“I’m sure, honey.”

“But I want to help,” you pout, pulling your knees into your chest. Spencer regards you for a moment from the other end of the couch, before beckoning you closer wordlessly. 

“You are helping,” he assures you, gently grabbing your wrist as you crawl into his lap. He rubs soothing circles into the delicate skin with his thumb. “You being here and being you is plenty.”

It’s the closest you’ve been to him since before he left, and while you’ve all but given up on asking him to sleep with you, it doesn’t mean you don’t think about it multiple times per day. It’s especially difficult to keep your thoughts PG when you haven’t seen him in a week, and his hair is all messy, and he’s got his pajamas on, and you’re in his lap, and he’s looking at you like that. 

“What are you thinking about?” Spencer murmurs, likely concerned by your lack of response and the glazed-over look in your eyes. You reanimate, averting your gaze to the spot on your thigh he’s now rubbing absentmindedly. 

“Nothing. I just missed you.”

“I missed you a lot, too.” You don’t even have to look up to know that his brows have twisted into a pleasant sort of bemusement, like you are a particularly complex puzzle—you can hear it as he continues speaking. “I’m still not used to having something external take up so much of my attention while I’m trying to do my job. I’ve never had that before. Not something good, anyway. It’s like every time I leave, I’m thinking about you more than the time before. And I was already thinking about you a lot.”

The corner of your mouth twitches as he rambles. 

“Really?”

“Yeah, really,” he chuckles. “You prove to be incredibly distracting even when you’re hundreds of miles away. Do you know how many nights I almost called you before realizing it was one in the morning?”

A slow smile spreads over your face. 

“Oh? Whatever could you have been calling about at one in the morning?”

You’re teasing him, and it works. He blushes adorably. 

“Um… probably exactly what you’d expect. In hindsight I think it’s best that I refrained.”

“What?” You grin, incredulous, forgetting your shyness and leaning closer. “You totally should’ve. I’ve never had phone sex before. I would’ve done it.”

“No, you wouldn’t!” Spencer laughs. “It would have just been me talking to myself with you on the other line. I don’t think phone sex is really up your alley.”

“Shut up,” you laugh as your lips meet. He smiles into the kiss. Before you get too lost in it, you pull away, leaning back when he tries to follow you. “I think you’re over-complicating it. It’s just dirty talk, right? I can totally do that. It’s just, like… blah blah blah, dirty slut, something something…”

You trail off as he gives you a look. Poker faced—aside from the slightly narrowed eyes sparkling with humor. 

“You want me to refer to you as a dirty slut?”

Maintaining eye contact is an uphill battle—you crack in a matter of seconds, resting your forehead against his and closing your eyes stubbornly. 

“No. For all you know I want to call you a dirty slut.”

It’s a ridiculous, but he recognizes the bravado for what it is, still smiling slightly as he rubs your hips. 

“Right. I apologize for assuming. But just for future reference, I don’t want to be called that, and I don’t think I’d be comfortable calling you that, either.”

“But you can call me other stuff,” you remind your boyfriend, pulling back and still not looking at him. 

“Yeah? Like what?”

And just like that, you’re shy again. 

“I don’t know… nice things. I like when you’re nice.”

“I like being nice to you.” It’s so sincere-sounding that you meet his gaze, examining his face. His eyes are clear and soft on you, the only source of warm light on such a grey day, as his hands keep running slow lines over your sides. “Kiss?”

And how could you ever deny him anything? 

As has happened before, the kiss starts out innocent enough. And it’s not that it gets particularly heated, or anything—it’s just that it doesn’t end, and after a few moments your mouth slips open and so does his and that’swhat gets both of you worked up over a period of minutes. Pressure and heat that you’re becoming accustomed to build between your legs, and you don’t even notice that you’ve begun rocking back and forth in his lap until Spencer is attempting to still your hips with patient but assertive hands. 

“Honey, that’s—slow down, sweetheart.”

Finally he gets a grip on you and you realize as soon as you stop moving that there had been friction occurring—and you’re pretty damn sure you know what you were grinding against. 

Your whole body feels hot with arousal and embarrassment. 

“Oh my god—I’m sorry,” you mumble, moving your hands from his shoulders to cover your face. “That was an accident, I—”

“It’s fine,” Spencer assures you, squeezing your waist gently. “I just wanted to make sure you knew what you were doing because I know we haven’t… gotten there, yet.”

A moment passes—your hands fall to the FBI stitching across his chest, studying the letters without really seeing them. You haven’t gotten there yet… but why not? Why haven’t you touched him, or even seen him? You think back to the few times he’s touched you and realize that you had been too busy with either your own insecurities or pleasure to genuinely consider how it might be affecting him. He says your name gently, drawing your attention. 

“You okay?”

You nod haltingly, brow furrowed as you think. 

“I—yeah. I was just realizing that I haven’t, like… touched you, yet.”

It’s silent for another long second, and you glance up, to where he’s studying you with a dissonant kind of relaxed scrutiny—a knowing confidence that probably comes with a lot more experience than you have. 

“Do you want to?”

Woah. 

Usually you have to beg on hands and knees and prepare a slideshow presentation before he agrees to doing anything sexual in nature. He’s never so overtly invited or initiated it before. Not that you’re complaining by any stretch of the imagination.  

You nod shyly, still fiddling with the fabric of his shirt. 

“If you want to, I can show you how. But it’s also absolutely okay if you don’t.”

Show you how? 

Your brain is melting into sludge at the idea. 

“I do,” you admit, meeting his gaze again. It’s kind, and you know he really wouldn’t be upset if you said no—but now that you’ve thought about it, you feel deeply compelled to try. 

“Okay. Come here, first.” You lean forward expectantly, eyes fluttering shut as his hand finds the back of your neck and he pulls you into another soft kiss. By the time your lips separate again, your head is spinning. “We’re just trying something, okay? You’re allowed to stop whenever you feel like it. Really low stakes. Got it?”

You nod, still close enough that your noses brush as you do. 

“Got it.”

He presses one more chaste kiss to your lips before pulling away and leaning back into the couch. 

“Scoot back a little, angel.”

Wordlessly you do so, heart pounding with nervous excitement as he lifts his hips and slides his pajama pants down just enough to where he can comfortably pull himself out, and—

Your breath catches. 

Now, you may be about as virginal as they come, but you weren’t born yesterday. You’ve seen porn, you’ve received unsolicited nudes—it is the 21st century. Yet never before have you thought to yourself; wow, that dick is the pinnacle of beauty. Perfect. Breathtaking. But there’s just no other way to describe him. 

So that’s what hits you first—how unexpectedly pretty it is. 

The size sinks in a quick second later. 

You can’t tell with perfect accuracy how many inches he is, but you’re pretty damn sure he’s big. That’s meant to fit inside of you?

No, no—that’s a consideration for another day. Right now you need to stop staring like an idiot. You glance up at his face, and he’s sporting a cocky little half-smile which lets you know you’ve been caught. Motherfucker he’s so hot. It’s unnerving. 

“Do you have something you’d like to say?” he asks politely, quite obviously containing his amusement. But you can’t summon a sufficiently sarcastic response. 

Your voice comes so soft when you reply, “you’re pretty.”

Spencer melts, eyes impossibly softening. 

“Pretty?” His smile is earnest now. He strokes your cheek and you can’t not lean into his touch. 

“Mhm. I want to, um…” your lips twist to the side as you look back down, finding he’s not gotten less intimidating since you last checked. “But what if I’m bad at it?” you whisper. He chuckles, brushing hair over your shoulder.  

“It’s kind of a hard thing to be bad at. And I’m gonna help you, okay?”

It’s the honesty with which he speaks to you that makes you feel so safe. There are no hidden intentions or words that seem to mean one thing but really mean another. Spencer wants you as a person more than he wants you as a body and that’s been clear since the first time he touched you. You take a deep breath. 

“Okay. What do I do?”

“First, you’re gonna spit in your hand.”

You look up, alarmed. 

“You want me to intentionally get my spit on you? Is that not your worst nightmare?”

“Believe it or not, I’m not super worried about yours,” he teases. “But if you’d prefer, I can spit in your hand.”

“Actually, mine is fine,” you laugh nervously. 

Hesitantly, you do as instructed, even though it seems frankly bizarre. 

“Good. Now just wrap your hand around it, like this.” His voice is quiet, focused as he guides your hand downward. Your heart rate ticks up again as he encourages you to wrap your hand around the base of his cock. He feels much warmer than you’d expected—his skin is silken beneath your touch but he’s undeniably hard and that sort of eliminates any sense of him being fragile from the equation. 

“It’s gonna be less sensitive down here—and then, up here—” he slides your hand back up, covering your thumb with his own and swiping it just below the head of his cock on the underside. He hisses and you look up in fascination. “That’s the most sensitive part.”

Without further instruction, you do it again, keeping your touch light and watching his face for a reaction. His drawn brows twitch, furrowing deeper for a second, and his lips part. A heavy exhalation passes between them and quickly builds into a breathy laugh. 

“What?” you murmur, over-eager to please and very nervous to do something wrong. 

“Nothing. Just feels good, that’s all.”

“Don’t laugh,” you pout. Of course that makes him laugh again, and he leans forward to kiss your head. 

“I’m laughing at myself, angel. I’m a grown man fighting for my life from a handjob that you’ve barely started. I knew it would be different with you but I didn’t realize it would be this different.”

Heat rises in your cheeks and you look away. 

“You don’t have to lie to make me feel better.”

“I’m not lying,” he urges, grabbing your free hand and encouraging you to uncurl your fingers. His thumb traces circles in your open palm, before capturing your entire hand in his. “Do you feel how much softer your hand is than mine?”

You frown, attempting to feel whatever it is that he’s pointing out. Despite the fact that you think he has very nice hands, you realize he’s right. By no means would you say that they’re rough, but you can tell where his gun normally sits in his hands, where his fountain pen rubs against his fingers. “Yeah.”

“Yeah. Anything you do is going to be perfect because it’s you.”

Spencer drops his hand to your leg, rubbing it soothingly. The other moves to cover yours—the one wrapped around him. 

“You’re gonna help me, right?” you ask quietly. Some adventurous part of you is very excited about this as an experiment—fascinated by the reactions you’ve already gotten from him and eager to push it. 

“I am. Little bit tighter, honey. I’ll tell you if it’s too much.”

You do as you’re told, and he’s murmuring more praise—slowly encouraging you to begin moving your hand with his own. A shaky exhale catches your attention, drawing your gaze to his face. His eyes are, of course, cast downward, but his expression is hypnotizing. Those lips remain slightly parted, and suddenly you wonder if he makes noises like you do. In that moment it becomes your life’s mission to find out. 

For a while you continue letting his hand guide your movements, but he keeps things so slow for your sake that you’re getting impatient. You forgo his direction, picking up the pace but trying to keep the rhythm he’d instilled in the motion. His hand slackens around yours. 

“Fuck,” he hisses to himself. The hand on your thigh rubs achingly deeper into the flesh. “Angel, what are you doing?”

“I want it to feel good.” Suddenly shy again, you slow down. His hips stutter, which you think may be a sign that it was working. “Am I—was that bad?” Spencer looses a breath, looking almost… frustrated?

“No, I’m just—I’m weirdly close to coming.”

“That’s a good thing, right?”

“Well,” he mutters, “not usually. Mostly it’s embarrassing.”

You giggle, a release of some tension, and begin pumping your hand again. His breath hitches and he finally looks up at you, meeting your eyes with his own lust-glazed ones. Heat pools deep between your legs. 

“I want you to come,” you admit quietly as you twist your wrist, brushing that spot underneath the head of his cock again. His jaw literally drops, and a look that is part confusion, part pleasure, twists his features. You see the surprise sparkling in his eyes and it only spurs you to keep talking. “I’ve never seen how you look when you do, but I’ve imagined it. I bet you look so pretty when you come, Spencer. ‘Nd then I would know that I can make you feel good, too.”

“You… you are making me feel good,” he assures you. The way his brow furrows and his  lips are parted give you a feeling that’s entirely new. Normally, you’re the one falling apart under his touch—but when it’s the other way around there’s a whole new kind of pleasure in it for you. You feel kind of powerful. Maybe even close to confident. 

“Really? I’m not this quiet when you touch me.”

“I’ve ha—ah—had more practice not making noise.”

“But why?” you implore, ignoring the fact that he’s slept with other women and enjoyed the sounds they made, and opting to brush your thumb across that extra sensitive part he definitely shouldn’t have told you about. His hips buck up and he hisses, which is immensely gratifying to you. 

“Because I like to listen.”

“What if I do, too?”

In a moment of divine inspiration , you cover the tip of his cock with your hand, swirling beads of pre-come over your palm. Spencer moans and his hips jut up into your grip. It’s a beautiful sound, just as you’d hoped. 

“Jesus, fuck.”

You understand why he seems to enjoy touching you so much. It’s so rewarding to watch as his breathing picks up and pleasure contorts his face—to watch him get messier and messier and lose his composure a bit more with each stroke of your hand. It’s so simple but Spencer looks at you like you’re exercising some arcane deviant power over him and he’s not sure he should be enjoying it as much as he is. 

Distantly you think about how it felt when he had his hands on you—and then, in clearer focus, how it felt when he went down on you. Both were perfect, but something about his lips so gentle on the most intimate, vulnerable part of you had felt like ascension. Maybe it was the emotional component, or maybe it just felt fucking good. Regardless, it seems an irresistible thought. 

You keep stroking him until his head is lolling on the back of the couch as he groans.

“Spencer?”

“Yeah, baby?”

He sounds so destroyed it makes you clench around nothing. Without any indication that you’re going to do so, you stop touching him, and the speed with which he lifts his head again is almost comical. Immediately, while he’s utterly defenseless and desperate, you ask, “can I use my mouth?” 

His eyes widen, and then shut, as he processes your request with a tiny shake of his head—probably trying to clear the haze of pleasure from his mind before he answers. 

“Honey,” he rasps eventually, opening his eyes and smoothing a hand over your hair, “you don’t have to do that just because I do. That’s not why I do it.”

“But I want to,” you murmur, shy and mildly embarrassed by what feels almost like a soft rejection. “I don’t think I could do anything, like, mind-blowing, but… I want to try.”

Your face is hot by the end of the sentence, and you can’t meet Spencer’s eyes as his fingers twitch over your hip. A quiet moment passes—but it’s short-lived.

“Okay. Go ahead, baby.”

Wide eyes dart up to his. 

“Really?”

Spencer smiles fondly, brushing an invisible speck from your cheek. 

“I don’t think I’m capable of turning that offer down. Not when it’s you.”

“Okay—um, should I just—” Spencer watches on, finding your sudden enthusiasm completely adorable as you scoot off of his lap and gingerly kneel in front of him. Your eyes are big and glassy as you look up at him, hands set politely on his knees. You squint suspiciously, eyes darting between his face and his cock, now about as hard as it’s ever been due to your toying. He knows it’s probably intimidating for a girl who has never seen one in real life, and he feels kind of bad about it. You do terrible, wonderful things to him that he doesn’t understand. “Wow. So... it looks bigger from down here.”

“Please don’t try to choke yourself,” he instructs hurriedly, leaning forward slightly. “I really don’t need you to do that. It’s fine if you can’t fit it all, I just—” he exhales shakily. Spencer is most definitely strong-willed but he can’t pretend like the sight of you on your knees for him, inches from his aching cock for the first time isn’t impacting his cognition. Most importantly he doesn’t want to make you feel pressured. He’s trying to not let how badly he wants this show in case you change your mind. 

Spencer watches as you psych yourself out—wilting like a thirsty flower. 

“But what if I’m bad at this?” you mumble, hands curling into loose fists atop his legs. Spencer pushes your hair back, tucking it behind your ears. 

“What’s your worst case scenario?” he asks. Your answer is immediate. 

“That I’m so bad you make me stop halfway through.”

Spencer can’t help but laugh again. 

“I’m sorry—I just… honey, you are really underestimating how profound your effect is on me. I just almost came from a minute long handjob. I can assure you that I won’t make you stop halfway through because I’d rather not have your mouth on me. That is… that’s just not going to happen.”

You lean your cheek against his thigh. He might actually pass away. 

“Will you tell me if I’m doing something wrong?”

“Honestly, as long as you don’t bite, you’re in the clear.”

Your eyes squeeze shut and your lips pull into an embarrassed little smile. 

“Great. Thank you for that invaluable advice.”

“Of course,” he smiles. It fades slowly as you take a deep breath and look up at him, obviously steeling yourself, before leaning forward and taking him in your hand again. He watches with bated breath, repeating no sudden movements to himself over and over as your hand moves up and down a few more times and your head lowers. 

You delicately, so lightly trace your tongue from the base of his swollen cock to just underneath the leaking tip, mapping a vein, and his hips buck as you take him into your mouth experimentally. Only the first few inches fit but the sight of your lips wrapped around him, the way you’re looking at him is so unbelievably erotic Spencer knows he won’t last very long.

From a purely technical perspective—he knows he’s gotten objectively better head. Still, something about the way you’re so delicate with him, so soft and timid in the way you lick and kiss and take him into your mouth has him fighting not to come already. Maybe it’s wrong, but knowing that he’s watching you do this for the first time in your life is obscenely arousing. The idea that you’ve never trusted another person this much; that you’re letting him be the one to help you navigate something as new and as important as sexuality. The more he thinks about it, though, the more he realizes: it’s not your inexperience that turns him on. It’s just you. Everything you do is so undeniably you—he recognizes your mannerisms in every tiny motion, in every glance, and it’s killing him. You’re like a dream as you look up at him with big nervous eyes, (no, really, he has had this dream) and he remembers he wants to be reassuring you—not pondering life and human connection. 

“Look at you,” he murmurs, groaning and hips twitching as your cheeks hollow, wrapping his achingly hard cock in soft gentle warmth so sweetly it feels taboo. “So good, baby. So gorgeous like this.”

You whine around him, receptive as always to his obsequious praise, and he notices the way your hips wiggle as you seek friction. God, you must like this a lot. Spencer gathers your hair into a makeshift ponytail, resting his hand on your head as you begin to bob it. That, he wasn’t prepared for. He’d have been satisfied with just kitten-licks and suckling but he won’t complain about this. It’s slow, and so intentional as you keep watching him for feedback cues. Ever his observant girl, you’re constantly paying attention. Aware of his reactions. He needs to keep telling you you’re good or else you’ll assume you’re terrible. 

“Over-achiever,” he whispers through a little smile as you down even more of him. 

Spencer is for the most part a kind and gentle person. For better or worse he is also a man, and he can’t help but fantasize about getting you all teary and drooly as he holds your mouth open and sees how much of his cock he can push down your throat. But again—kind. Gentle. So when you get a little over-zealous, attempting to sacrifice your comfort for his pleasure, he pulls your head back slightly. “That’s far enough, angel. That’s—fuck. God, you’re good at this.” The words are thoughtless, muttered to himself more than you as he watches through a haze while you look up at him with glassy, half-lidded eyes, slipping him in and out of your warm mouth, a little faster now as you gain confidence. 

You whine desperately around him, like you’re the one nearing orgasm and not him. The sound of your pleasure as you suck his cock makes him dizzy. His hips buck, pressing him a little deeper into your mouth. “Jesus fucking Christ,” he exhales. “Slow down, baby. I’m—” a louder moan from him like you’ve never heard as he thrusts shallowly turns you on profoundly. He’s so much more vocal than you’d have imagined—sonically and verbally. He breathes out a quick, “fuck, fuck, fuck,” pulling your hair slightly, and you’ve never wanted to touch yourself more but you know you can’t focus on both. Instead you work on making him come—you can worry about you later. He says your name, with an authoritative edge to his tone that makes you throb. “Honey, if you don’t stop, I’m gonna come—”

You swirl your tongue around the top of him like candy and he’s done for. Spencer tries to pull out, which only results in cum both in your mouth and on your face. The orgasm is his strongest in recent memory, and he grunts, watching your lips part and a little squeak escape as he comes all over your face—but you keep stroking him all the while. Once he’s 90% sure it’s over, he falls against the back of the couch, breathing heavily and looking down at you through hazy eyes. Oh, he’s going to feel terrible about this in a few seconds—but right now you look fucking perfect. Your eyes are wide, nervous as his essence drips over your face and down your neck—he groans when you swallow cautiously, averting his eyes to the ceiling lest he do another thing he regrets. 

“Baby, I am so sorry,” he mutters, forcibly clearing the haze of orgasm from his mind and sitting up, fixing his pants and looking around before locating the box of tissues on the side table. “I’m so, so sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.” You look up at him attentively as he wipes himself from your face as gently as he can. 

“Why not?”

“Because I didn’t ask you first. I wasn’t thinking clearly.”

Spencer guides your head around by your chin, wiping your jaw and lips. 

“It’s okay, Spence, I—”

“No, it’s not,” he cuts you off, trying to at least turn his guilt into a learning experience for you. He’s not deluded enough to think someone like you will stay with someone like him forever, because sometimes he does things like that, and he’s reminded that there are certainly people out there more deserving of you. At the very least he can clarify that nobody should ever do what he just did to you. “It’s really not nice to do that to someone.”

“Do you care what I think at all?”

Spencer freezes, finally forcing himself to look you in the eye. Despite the fact that he’s mad at himself, he’s sure it’s coming across as being directed at you. And he knows you’re sensitive, especially about this kind of thing. 

“Of course, I do, baby. I’m sorry. Do you want to come back up here with me and tell me what you’re thinking?” he murmurs, cupping your jaw. Hesitantly you nod. The tissues end up on the table—which he will be thoroughlywiping down later—before you crawl back into his lap from the floor. Spencer helps you settle against him, hoping he hasn’t messed this up irreversibly. He keeps his voice quiet as he rubs your leg. “What were you going to say?”

“I was going to say,” you begin, “that it’s fine, because you’ll remember to ask next time. And because… I kind of liked it. I like when—when you do stuff like that.”

It’s a miracle he can hear you with the way your voice drops into an almost-whisper and you’re hiding against his shirt. 

“Like what?” he murmurs. Although he’s not sure he’ll be able to handle the answer. 

“Like… I don’t know. Like you can do whatever you want to me. Like I’m literally yours.” Each word makes you cringe further, but Spencer has to try hard to maintain a cool facade as he processes this. If he’s going to try and be chivalrous, you’ll have to move away from this topic—this revelation—immediately. Thankfully, you seem eager to move on. “So… how did I do?”

He almost laughs. It seems exceedingly obvious how you did, but as per usual, you require verbal reassurance. 

“That was really good, baby. You did well.”

You blossom. 

“Really?”

“I wouldn’t lie.”

“Was I the best girl out of all of the other girls?” 

I wasn’t in love with any of the other girls. 

Just barely, he manages to stop himself from saying it, pinwheeling his arms on the edge of a very steep verbal cliff. The realization that he’s been in love with you for a while hits him like a truck. But he can’t tell you that right now. He should wait until you’re less vulnerable.

Fuck. 

He really wants to tell you right now. 

“Actually—don’t answer that,” you decide, while all of this happens in his head in less than a few seconds. “I want to go back to pretending I’m the only girl you’ve ever seen in your life.”

“You’re the only one that matters,” he offers, relieved to express at least some portion of the much bigger truth. Then he frowns. “Not that the other women I’ve met don’t lead important lives. I actually know a lot of incredibly influential and intelligent people who are women. I have deep respect for all of them. Am I helping or making it worse?” he rambles. You giggle. He has his answer. “What about you? How do you feel?” he asks after a moment, tenderly, lowly, stroking your hair as you lean against his chest. 

It takes you a moment to deliberate, fiddling with the fabric of his shirt. 

“I feel good. I, um… liked it a lot more than I would have thought.”

“Well, that’s good. Much better than if you had hated every second of it.”

You hum in agreement, and he waits for you to say whatever you’re holding back. It comes sooner than he’d have anticipated. 

“I feel bad about the times before. How did you just… go to sleep after? Were you not, like—insanely turned on? Not that I’m, like, irresistibly sexy, or whatever—you know what I mean.”

Spencer smiles because he knows you can’t see him. 

“I wasn’t doing it to pressure you into feeling obligated to reciprocate, I guess. My line of reasoning was that it would be less intimidating if I didn’t even present it as an option until you wanted to try.”

“Oh.”

Spencer thinks he sees where this is going. 

“Why?” he asks, leaning back and encouraging you to look at him. “Are you insanely turned on?”

“Wh—that’s—I didn’t say that!”

Spencer can feel how warm your cheeks are as he presses his lips to the side of your face. 

“You can tell me if you are,” he murmurs, all smiley as he moves to kiss your lips. “If you want something, you need to ask for it. I’m not a mind reader.”

“Yes you are,” you grumble. “That’s literally what behavioral analysis is.”

Not quite true, but surprisingly, he doesn’t feel the need to explain to you the semantics of what he does for work right now. 

“What got you all excited?”

“You know what,” you mumble, trying to look away again. Spencer doesn’t allow it this time, gently grabbing your jaw. 

“Yes, I do. But I want you to tell me. If you want me to make you feel good, this is how you’re going to convince me that you deserve it.”

You whine wordlessly, looking at him with those big, lust-glazed eyes.

“You wanted me to teach you how to use your words, right? This is it. I’m giving you an opportunity. If you don’t want to, that’s okay. Maybe we can take a nap, like you said earlier.”

“No! I liked—um, I liked all of it. I didn’t know if I would, because I was really nervous. But when I first—you know—and you got all quiet… it was like you couldn’t even talk for a minute. I was kind of proud of that. Because normally nobody can ever get you to stop talking.” Spencer narrows his eyes incredulously, a small smile tugging at his lips. But he doesn’t interrupt—not when it seems you’re finally starting to get more confident in your words. “And I really liked the noises you made. I think that was my favorite part. I liked when you pulled my hair back, and how you spoke to me. And when… when you got me messy and I had to swallow it. I really liked how it felt because I couldn’t think of anything else, just making you feel good. I really wanted to… make you proud, I guess. Is that weird?”

Spencer shakes his head no, a fond smile on his face when your eyes meet his again. 

“No. It’s a pretty normal thing to feel when you’re nervous and wanting to impress someone you care about. And I would have been proud no matter what, for the record. You were being very brave.”

You pull your bottom lip between your teeth, watching him expectantly. Spencer should have known you’re too needy to truly absorb anything he says to you right now. Which is actually pretty cute. Everything you do is endearing to him. 

“Stand up.”

You frown. 

“But—”

“Just stand up,” he demands calmly, preferring to think of himself as firm and not bossy. 

You do, looking rather annoyed and confused as you plant yourself in front of him. 

“Why?”

“You are so full of questions.” His hands slip up the side of your legs, under your skirt, and hook in the waistband of your underwear. Spencer looks up at you meaningfully and you nod, swallowing. 

As he pulls down, Spencer can literally feel the resistance of the fabric clinging to your soaked core. Under his touch the skin of your thighs is warm and soft. He wants to feel it on either side of his face, he wants to hear you whine as his stubble rubs against it, he wants to feel it clamp around his wrist, he wants it between his teeth and he definitely wants it pressing against his hips as he—

But no. 

There will be time for all of those things—especially the last one—later. For now, he’ll reach between your legs just to see—

“Oh, my god,” Spencer half-chuckles, half-groans, upon feeling how wet you truly are for him. He drags his knuckles from your dripping entrance up over your clit, pinching very lightly and earning a squeak from you which he ignores. “You really did like having your mouth full of me, huh?”

“I told you,” you breathe, visibly relaxing some as he continues to play with you for a moment. Then he pulls his hand away again, patting his thigh. 

“Sit.”

“You want me to…”

“Yes,” he says, simply. 

“But is it not going to… am I not going to mess up your pants?”

“You are even more neurotic about messiness than I am. I can wash them, honey. Come here.”

Spencer guides your hips over his thigh, watching your pretty face twist with uncertainty as you fully settle on him. Fuck, he can feel your warmth through the fabric instantly. Already he’s getting hard again. 

“What am I supposed to do?” you whisper, bunching his shirt in your fists. Spencer slides your skirt up higher, revealing the way you’re nestled against his thigh. He spreads you a little further apart, exposing more of your clit to the material underneath you. Immediately you press against him—he watches the delicate flesh rubbing gingerly against him and  his grip tightens ever so slightly. 

“All you have to do is rock back and forth. It’s easy.”

Already you’re starting to do it—but he guesses it’s like earlier where you don’t even realize it’s happening. 

“But… I wanted your mouth,” you admit, quietly, slinging your arms around his neck and burying your face there. 

“Do this for me first. Just get yourself off like this one time and then you can have my mouth. You said you wanted to help me feel better because I’m tired today, right?

“Yes,” you mumble, squirming over him. 

“Well, there are a lot of days when I get back home and I’m tired. I’m gonna need you to be able to get on top of me, just like this, and make me feel better. And I know you don’t know what it feels like to have something that deep inside of you yet, but it’s gonna be a lot. Even once you know how it feels to have me inside when you’re underneath me. I need you to practice for me right now so you’ll be ready, okay?”

You could come from the words alone. You nod, dazed with need as you roll your hips in a circle, pressing his thigh against your clit. 

“Back and forth, baby,” he murmurs, guiding your hips forward with his hands locked around them. “Back and forth, just like this…”

You moan quietly, shamelessly, eyes fluttering as you look down and watch your clit dragging over the darkening fabric. It’s easier if you isolate your hips, grinding down without moving your legs or upper body at all. 

“It feels really good,” you whisper under your quickening breath. 

“Yeah? Does it?”

“Mhm.”

“Good, angel. You look like you know what you’re doing.”

It’s audible now, quiet and wet and dirty. 

“I don’t,” you breathe. He sucks in a breath of his own, stilling your hips with fingers pressed deep into your flesh. 

“Sit up, baby.” You really wish he would stop making you stop, but you don’t want to keep going in case he needs you to quit—so you rise slowly, thighs trembling as you kneel. Spencer groans at the strings of your arousal momentarily connecting your core to his pants before they snap, getting your inner thighs wet. There’s a dark, very wet patch over his thigh, shining like glass. He thumbs over your slick clit absentmindedly as he looks up at you like you’re a miracle. “You’re fucking soaked. I’ve never seen you like this. Is this all from making me come?”

You nod feverishly, hips grinding against nothing in search of friction. He sits you back down on his leg, allowing you to sloppily find your rhythm again. Spencer bounces his leg lightly and you cry out softly, buckling forward. His arms wrap around you, still pressing you down against his thigh as you rut against it. 

“You’re sweet. Maybe I should have known how much you’d like it when I came all over your pretty face. You really like hearing that you did a good job, huh? I bet you like it even more when I prove it to you.”

You moan a “yeah,” barely processing his words. 

“My good girl even swallowed on her first try. Took it so well. And now look at how you’re taking this. You’re gonna love riding, baby. Just going to be another thing you’re good at as soon as you try it.”

“Spencer,” you gasp, overwhelmed by the praise. He’s bouncing his leg at regular intervals and everything is so sensitive.

“I know it’s harder to finish this way, but just one time, remember? And then you can have my tongue for as long as you want. You are my only plan for the day. Just give me one like this.”

But it’s not really harder to finish this way. Then again, you’re so turned on you could probably finish if a breeze hit you just right. Regardless, the thought of him going down on you again pushes you even closer to the edge.

You don’t know how much time goes by like that, you rubbing against him like it’s the last thing you’ll ever do, him pressing up into you until the pressure is so taut it snaps. There’s no time to warn him, but you suppose you don’t really need to. You writhe against him, caught between wanting to keep going and not being able to take more stimulation. He lifts you up just slightly, trying to separate you from his leg. You exhale deeply as your body relaxes, already close to dozing off against his chest.

“We can’t have you tapping out just yet. I still have to fulfill my end of the deal.”

In the end, he fulfills it three times over, and you end up showing your appreciation in kind one more time—much slower and more comfortably in his bed. He gives you plenty of time to learn what he likes, taking your teasing and coquettish explorations like a champ and never so much as tightening his grip in your hair. Turns out, you don't exactly spend the day doing nothing.

And you do end up taking that nap after all. Just... much, much later. And with less clothing on.

[ddejavvu]

Imagine Spencer being so absolutely obsessed with you that when he tries to ask you on a date he says something like, "maybe i could eat you out -- take you to eat out -- out to eat. take. you. out to eat, i meant…

Pls write it

Morgan's spent twenty minutes hyping Spencer up, but the doctor knows it won't be enough. No amount of time is enough to prepare for the scariest thing he's ever done in his life. Standing against active shooters and being held captive seem to pale in comparison now, as he stands before you and your questioning eyes.

"What's up, Spencer?"

"I was wondering," He starts, and just like that the script he'd prepared with Morgan vanishes from his head. Technically, Morgan had denounced the script. It was a Spencer Effort, lines of dialogue he'd run through countless times while ignoring Morgan's protests to 'just feel it'. Now he's feeling nothing but panic, but he tries feeling something more.

"-if- if you wanted to maybe.. I could take- eat you out?"

He's felt it.

"-or- no!" He tries ignoring Morgan's snickers as he feels his cheeks blaze with embarrassment. His eyes squeeze shut as he grimaces, then he drops them to your mouth so that he doesn't have to look into your own gaze, "Not- not like, I meant... I could- we could go eat out. I could out- I could take- we could go to eat out. Like, I could take you to a- a diner? Or something? And we could eat. Out. I could take you out to eat. But if-"

"Spencer!" You rush the word out, and he watches the way your lips move around it.

He can't move, he can't speak, he can't offer you the apology you deserve, all he does is stand there frozen.

"I would... love to go get something to eat." You speak more eloquently than he did, but your voice is cautious, "And... we'll see about that other thing."

You leave him no time to respond, scurrying off to the bathroom to give yourself a once-over in the mirror. Spencer stands there dumbfounded, feet barely planted on the scratchy carpet of the precinct so that when Derek's hand claps him on the shoulder, he nearly topples.

"My man," Derek beams, amusement still dancing in his words, "Go eat her out, pretty boy."

[revasserium]

Can i request OPLA zoro where he doesn't get along with reader but calls her my girl in front of a baratie waiter who was flirting with her.

my girl

zoro; 2,438 words; fluff, kinda enemies to lovers, fem!reader, straw hat!reader, lots of banter, slow...burn?

summary: just cause you don't see eye to eye doesn't mean zoro's down to watch you get hit on while he's in the same bar, either.

a/n: again. i've got no excuse. pls continue to send more requests feed my opla!zoro obsession u__u

it is perhaps what therapists and psychiatrists would call an incompatibility of character. or maybe something about you and him that simply acted like two jigsaw pieces from completely different puzzles. or maybe luffy had just jinxed it when he’d said the first time that he sensed some “tension amongst the crew”, but it’s no secret that you and zoro don’t exact see eye to eye.

in fact, sanji thinks, it might only be a matter of time before you each try to take the other’s eyes out permanently.

“you’re really not worried?” he asked luffy as they’d watched zoro and you bicker all the way down the wobbling boardwalk leading up to the baratie, you sniping at zoro for getting in your way and zoro biting back something equally acerbic and childish about you being too clumsy to be a good pirate.

“huh? why would i be worried? they get along just fine!” luffy had laughed, eyes bright and round as he’d readjusted his hat and bounded off towards the entrance, whooping about being hungry enough to take down an entire sea cow.

“wh —”

“bit rich, since you and zoro are always at each other’s throats, no?”

nami bumps sanji’s arm as she strolls by him with a stack of empty crates. sanji squawks, readjusting his own bags before jogging after her.

“c’mon, you know that’s different!”

nami smirks but doesn’t grace that with an answer, instead, she lets her eyes flicker back to where you and zoro are still snarking at each other even as the bewildered looking fishman at the front leads you all around back to the kitchen entrance.

“— wouldn’t have been in that situation if you’d just —”

“yeah? and if i’d just stayed put like you said, the entire going merry would’ve gone up in smoke cause last i checked, wood is very flammable!”

“the merry’s not that fragile.”

“you wanna bet?”

“yeah, maybe i do —”

“what’s goin’ on here? didn’t i tell you lot to get lost?” zeff’s gruff voice interrupts your bickering as the peg-legged chef looks from zoro to you and then the rest of the crew, “gotta new one, didya? don’t remember you from the last time these idiots were here.”

“she’s barely an upgrade from the clown head —”

you slam your heel into the toe of zoro’s boot and he hisses, nearly dropping his armful of crates.

“what he means is that i’m the brains of the operation —”

“we don’t need brains —”

“oh, so you’re admitting that you didn’t have any before i got here?”

zoro glares, dropping the crates as luffy pushes past you both to clap zeff on the shoulder and offer him a huge stack of berry.

“we came to pay you back for the meal last time! and to buy a new one! and… maybe some extra food stuff if you’ve got it.”

zeff opens his mouth to answer but it’s drowned out by the sound of your voice as you jab a finger into zoro’s chest.

“— just because you can’t hold more than one cohesive thought in your head at once doesn’t mean that —”

“— what’s that even supposed to mean? like you can think about two things at once?”

“enough! you two — outta the kitchen, now! i won’t have your lovesick teenage yappin’ distractin’ my line chefs!”

you both jump at zeff’s voice, and an unpleasant heat creeps into your cheeks as you realize that the entire kitchen had indeed gone very quiet, most of the white-clad workers staring at you and zoro.

“i need a drink,” zoro says, rolling his shoulders as he sidesteps you and pushes his way out of the kitchen.

“look, sir, i didn’t mean —” you take half a step forward but zeff jabs a finger at the doors still swinging in zoro’s wake.

“i said out!”

you glance between zeff and the rest of your crew for a split second before turning and scrambling from the kitchen, looking abashed.

“oh no, c’mon zeff, you didn’t need to yell at her like that —” sanji sighs as he tries to go after you, but nami nails him in the stomach with one of her arms.

“nope. this is something they need to work out on their own. and you’re on grocery shopping duty with me, remember?” she flashes him a smile even as he deflates slightly and turns back to the work of haggling rations out of the baratie’s storerooms.

you find zoro already posted up at the bar, even though the hour is still early enough that there’s only a few other patrons, mainly keeping to themselves. you fight the urge to march up to him and give him an earful about embarrassing you in front of sanji’s old master like that but zeff’s words about making a scene keeps your lips clamped shut.

instead, you seat yourself as far from zoro as humanly possible and wait for the bartender to sidle over. he flashes you a winning smile, making no attempt to conceal the way his eyes drag from your hair to your face and then down to your cleavage, where his gaze rests for a beat too long before he clears his throat.

“what can i get you, gorgeous? something sweet and bubbly, perhaps? or maybe something a bit more dark and… seductive? i can have a custom drink whipped up for you in a few if you’d like… on the house, of course.”

he shoots you a wink that has your eyebrows hiking up your forehead.

“laying it on thick, are we?”

the bartender shrugs, seemingly unbothered by your lack of enthusiasm.

“place like this doesn’t exactly breed subtlety.”

you make a noncommittal noise before sighing, “i’ll have a dirty martini, shaken not stirred, straight, with a twist, please.”

to his credit, the bartender doesn’t miss a single beat, “ah, a woman of taste, though i’ll admit that i prefer my martini’s naked instead of shaken, hm?”

he waggles his eyebrows and if it weren’t for the loud cough from down the bar drawing the bartender’s attention, you would’ve rolled your eyes.

at the opposite end of the bar, zoro taps his empty drink glass against the waxy hardwood, a vein ticking in his jaw. he’d listened to the entire exchange with a growing annoyance festering in the depths of his stomach. and here he was, hoping for a moment of quiet without the sound of your voice yammering in his ear. he shoots the bartender a glowering look as the man refills his drink and tries to make his way back down the bar to you.

zoro tosses the entire drink back in one and sets the empty glass down with a loud clack, clearing his throat as the bartender turns to stare at him. he holds the man’s gaze for a full three seconds before looking pointedly down at his glass and the bartender’s face visibly reddens.

“here you are, sir — the last three are on the house.”

the bartender lines up five identical drinks in front of zoro before marching away and zoro has to give it to the guy. he does make a good, stiff drink.

still, as he tries his hardest not to glance down towards where you’re sitting, sipping slowly at your martini, he can’t help overhearing the stilted stabs at conversation floating down the length of the empty bar. the bartender lavishes you with questions, asking about your travels, who you came with, where you’re from. you, for your part, never give him an answer more than three words long — travels were good, my crew, an autumn island.

zoro briefly wonders why you don’t tell the guy off like you so often did him. then, he briefly wonders if the fact that you’re always so easily set off by him means something. then, he not-so-briefly wonders why, if he’s always been so bothered by you, that he’s still thinking about you in the precious few hours he has to himself.

he clicks his tongue and downs another drink just as you finish your first.

“c’mon darlin’ — just a hint — what about the first letter? shall i try to guess?”

you sigh into your now empty glass as the bartender asks your name for the third time in a row, though to no avail. suddenly, a warm, solid presence appears next to you and the next thing you know, zoro’s arm is brushing up against yours as he leans over the bar to bear down at the bartender.

“right, now if you’re done trying t’pick up my girl, i think i’d like the check.”

the bartender blinks up at zoro, uncomprehending for a second before a blotchy redness seeps into his cheeks.

“y-your — you haven’t said a word to each other since either of you got here!”

you swallow passed a bewildered laugh as you glance up at zoro to find a challenge clear in his eyes. you slowly swivel back to the bartender with a light smile.

“ever heard of a lover’s quarrel?”

the bartender sputters as he stares between the pair of you for another long second before scurrying off to fetch the check. zoro chuckles under his breath, his earrings clinking softly in the dim light.

“damn — i really wanted another drink,” you say, staring at your empty glass.

wordlessly, zoro plops one of his in front of you. it’s the second to last.

you bring it up to your nose for a sniff before making a face.

“god that smells awful!”

“fine then, more for me.”

“i didn’t say i wouldn’t drink it!”

you bring the glass to your lips for a small sip. it’s tastier than you’d imagined but it still burns a line down your throat as you shiver.

“h-holy shit —” you cough, wiping at your mouth, “how many of these have you had?”

zoro shrugs, sipping on his own glass with a careless ease, “dunno. don’t really keep count.”

“ugh… this could knock out a war elephant…” you make another face before you take a second sip.

“figures you can’t hold your liquor, drinkin’ whatever girly shit you ordered.”

you round on him, “martinis are not girly!”

“tch. whatever.”

you settle into a huffy silence. zoro’s arm is still pressed against yours and neither of you makes to pull away. for a while, the only sounds in the bar are the soft clink of ice on glass and the light, liquid splashing of the ocean waves.

“why didn’t you tell him off?” zoro’s voice is quiet and when you turn to look at him, it’s to find him staring. you hold his gaze steady and don’t look away.

“why should i? he’s no one to me.”

“you don’t seem to have a problem yellin’ at me.”

you shrug, your eyes flickering back to the too-strong drink in your hand.

“i don’t tend to waste my breath on people i don’t really care about,” you say, your voice soft and careful and honest. zoro sucks in a slow breath, his mildly alcohol addled brain trying to process what you’d just said but his thoughts are interrupted by a peel of loud, raucous laughter echoing in from the dining room beyond.

“c’mon, sounds like dinner is served,” you say, grinning as you push off the bar, jerking your head towards the dining room door.

zoro lets out the breath before downing the rest of his drink and leaving the empty glass on the bar to follow you.

at dinner, you bicker less than usual and zoro is even more quiet than he normally is. though he wastes no time ordering another round for the table. no one really comments till zeff comes round at the end with the check.

“dinner’s already paid for but i was told that this is for the ‘lovebirds from the bar’,” he says, as he drops the drinks bill in front of zoro with a deadpan sort of look.

for a full ten seconds, no one moves. and then, usopp’s jaws hit the floor as sanji’s eyebrows jerk towards the ceiling. nami sits back with a satisfied smirk as luffy nods happily at the two of you before turning to grin at sanji.

“see? told you they get along fine!”

sanji has the decency to sputter just as usopp leans forward to point between you and zoro.

“wait… whaattt?”

you make to tug out your wallet but zoro slaps a stack of berry on top of the bill.

“give our compliments to the bartender,” he says with a slight smirk as zeff takes the money, glancing up at the two of you.

“yeah? what’d he make that’s got you so impressed?”

you purse your lips as you make a show of shrugging, waving a nonchalant hand through the air.

“oh, just a mean dirty martini.”

zeff lets out a loud bark of laughter as he takes the berry and clomps back towards the kitchens, shaking his head. zoro chuckles beside you as he stretches an arm over his head and lets it settle casually on the booth back behind you.

later, as everyone is making their way back towards the going merry, nami catches up to you on the docks, looping an arm through yours and pinning you with a meaningful look just as sanji sidles up to zoro and bumps him with a shoulder.

“so…” nami says, grinning as she tugs you forward a few steps.

“so.” sanji clears his throat, casting zoro a sidelong glance.

“wanna tell me what that was about?” nami asks.

“care to elaborate on that back there?” sanji questions.

you and zoro both take a deep, long breath. zoro glances up to see the way you toss a lock of hair over your shoulder, your bright laughter carrying back on the breeze. you allow yourself a smile, and you don’t have to turn to feel zoro’s eyes on you as both of you turn to your respective companions and say —

“i’ve got no idea what you’re talking about.”

opla!zoro reqs are (as always) open!!

[harleehazbinfics]

Love eat?

Alastor x cannibal servant!reader

Original Concept | Additional Concept

Word count: 1764

A/N: sup im back with more crack, jk. but yeahhh i did a oneshot of that imagine and now we're here. i've channeled my inner crazy and that led me to this oneshot lmao, sorry if it's not up to par but pls enjoooooyyyy!

ps I can't find the artist pls help. chainsaw man falling devil spoiler sorry

“Yuta!” you called your boyfriend from where you sat waiting for him.

“Sorry, I'm late,” he says with an apologetic smile, placing his bag to his side while he sat in front of me.

“No, it's ok! You're doing your best in school. I was the one who asked you to eat with me anyway,” you responded clapping your hands together, appealing cutely to your boyfriend.

“But you're busy with your culinary classes too. I'm sure you're working harder than I am!” He replied, making you smile at how genuine he sounded.

You reached inside your bag and presented 2 lunch boxes in front of him. His eyes widen in anticipation while you opened them, revealing a well plated pork cutlet and a healthy salad in the other lunch box.

“I have! I learnt a few new things during class, and I wanted you to be the first to eat my cooking. I hope you like them!” He smiles at you, flattered that he was the first thing on your mind when you made the meal. He always loved your cooking.

The both of you met when you were first years, he was just roaming the halls familiarizing himself with the school layout when he heard you squealing inside a room and helped you put out a small fire that you accidentally created while you stayed behind in the Economics Room to relearn the basics taught to you that day. So, he stayed with you until the end so that you won't set the whole room on fire this time, and as thanks you gave the meal you completed to him afterwards. As he tasted it, threw it back up when he tasted how salty it was, so you resolved yourself that you'd make a decent meal for him, and that's where your friendship to relationship started.

“Wow! You've really outdone yourself this time!” He yells with stars in his eyes, savoring each bite.

You laughed at him and pushed the salad closer to him, and said, “You can eat all of it. It's all for you!”

“Really? Thanks a lot! It's so great to have you as my girlfriend!”

-=-=-=-

“Yuta?” you asked with wide eyes as you eyed the knife in his hand that was pointed at you.

“I-I can't take it anymore. I don't want to eat any food you make for me anymore, it’s disgusting. I don’t want to eat humans! I hate it, I hate it, I HATE YOU!” He screamed lunging at you.

He pushes the knife to your stomach, a few moments later you feel the metallic taste in your throat, letting the liquid drop from your tongue as you took has face that held great remorse for you. You smiled at the pretty expression on his face and rubbed your thumb on his cheeks, smearing it with your own blood.

"How pretty. I love all the expressions you make. Do it more," you coughed out.

His expression changes from fear to disgust and anger. Vengefully, he takes your wrists binding them together in his forceful grip and continues to stab you until you died from the pain and blood loss. However, despite your body tensing and losing color on you face, he never stopped. After his knife slipped out of his hands from your blood, he threw himself at you and bit into your neck.

Devouring you. Bit by bit.

---

You've been aimlessly roaming around hell and chopping sinners with your cleaver that were dumb enough to pick a fight with you. At the moment, you sat on top of a building waiting for something to happen while eating an beefy arm starting from the shoulder.

While you were gnawing at it with a blank expression on your face. You were surprised when a massive green explosion appeared out of nowhere, inducing a few screams of terror.

Just a couple blocks in front of you, you see a giant red deer demon with black tentacles coming out his back as he crushed sinners in his hands and consuming them.

You immediately dropped the arm you were holding and watched as the overlord showed off his power against you, sinners. Unable to hold yourself, you followed his parade of chaos and squeaked when he appears behind you wiping his mouth with a napkin.

"How rude of you to follow me around, while I was playing with my meal," he remarks with a snarky tone.

You got distracted with his voice. How could someone be so seductive with a radio filter on, you ask yourself.

"It's also rude to stare, you know?" He adds, starting to get pissed off by how unresponsive you were as you just kept gawking at him.

"I was just admiring how powerful you were, sir! I've never seen a demon turn into that kind of form. I-I was enchanted!" You yelled at him, hands clasped together while fan-girling at his abilities with hearts in your eyes.

"My, I've never seen such behavior from a person such as you. Are you eager to be eaten?" He laughs before his eyes turning black leaving his red pupils and radio dial iris.

"Yes! I would be happy to!" You answered almost immediately, making him revert to his normal self, getting caught off guard with your reply.

He hums turning his head in confusion and irritation, “Well, that just won’t do. I only like it when my prey gets scared rather than having a sacrifice like you.”

He tries to ride away in his shadow but before he could do so, he halts in his steps when you step in front of him. “Please! I’ll act scared! I’ll do anything! I just want to be with you!” you cried dropping to the floor pathetically making him deadpan to the sight.

He huffs, and turns his back at you, “Hmm. Do what you wish.”

With that, you stayed and served Alastor for years. You’ve arranged deals for him, did his bidding on some occasions and even represented him a few times in meetings. However, your main occupation was his personal chef.

Sure, one could argue that he likes his meats raw and cooks for himself sometimes. But do you expect that man to cook every meal for himself for a nearly a century? Overlords don’t have that much free time, you know? (or at least that what Sir Alastor says) and you happily take on this task when he discovers that you were an excellent chef, living up to his own impossible standards.

However, you find yourself in a very peculiar situation.

“(y/n)? Is it really you?”

You’ve come face to face with your first love and your killer. You couldn’t help but leap up from you position and hug him while he did his best to get away from you.

“Yuta! You’re finally in here! I knew you’d come to find me, hehe,” you cried still hugging him while he struggled in your mighty grip. “I’ve been waiting for you, y’know?” you said to him with your eyes darkening at him giving him the familiar dangerous look in your eye making him tense up and unconsciously threw you across the room with his strength.

You didn’t hit the impact when Alastor raised his arms and caught you before placing you on your feet, ignoring your heart-eyes as usual.

“And who is this with you?” he asks the group, almost sneering at the new man.

“This is Yuta! He’s our new guest! We found him in Cannibal Town, and he asked us where we were, he’s now he's here!” Charlie introduces excitedly holding Yuta by the shoulder.

“Ooh, is he a bad boy?” Nifty asks looking flirtatiously.

“Why, of course! He’s the one that killed me after all!” I announced with a smile. “Isn’t that right, dear?”

He rolls his eyes and says to Charlie, “I’ll be fine anywhere as long as I don’t get involved with her. I’ll find a room myself.”

You all watch as he shows himself to one of the rooms while Charlie replies, “Uhh, ookayyy?”

“So, what’s with you and that guy?” Angel first asks, “There’s a lot of sexual and… psychological tension there.”

“Yeah, and what do you mean he killed you?” Vaggie continues, while all of them looked at you.

“Oh, you know, couple fights. One thing led to another and poof, I was gone,” you explained simply with a laugh, making Nifty laugh as well.

“So, you two dated?” Angel asked in surprise.

“Exactly, why?” I smiled at him.

“Uhh, sure. He just looks like a boy failure to me. How the fuck could he bag a hottie like you!” Angel laughs throwing his head back.

"What a crazy bitch," Husk comments blankly looking at you before peeking at Alastor's annoyed face making him raise his long brow.

You tilt you head to the side confused, before Charlie would come in and say that she’d explain it to you.

A few weeks gone by, and you didn’t stop pestering your ex with things he hated when you couldn’t get enough of the expressions on his face. You loved seeing him get so angry with you, you just loved getting on his nerve. Or it could be some fucked up enjoyment of how you remembered being eaten by him half dead that sent chills to your body every time.

“That’s it! I’ve had enough of your shit!” he yells bursting in flames.

“Oh, what? Cat got your tongue baby boy?” you teased him hands behind your back trying to annoy him.

“Oh, fuck you!” he screams as he runs forward at you trying to land a punch which you jump away from effortlessly.

He eventually tires himself out and sees you giving the deer demon googly eyes that ticks him off. He loads up a fire blast and shoots it at Alastor. You intercepted it in between not noticing him following behind it and takes hold of you neck choking you.

“Not bad,” you wheeze out with a wicked grin, setting him off and squeezing your neck tighter.

He fails to notice the black portal underneath him where a black tentacle reaches out to his ankle and wraps around his body, making him let go off you.

“I’d rather you not mess with my property if I were you,” Alastor announces menacingly as he had you in his arms. You feel starstruck as you were being princess carried and being defended by the one you admired. “I don’t like sharing, so this is my last warning for both of you to not get involved with each other.”

“Yes, sir! Anything for you!” you scream your heart out that felt like it was beginning to burst out of your chest and leap in your throat, while you give him heart eyes that he ignored, while he brought both of you to his chambers.

"Are you finally going to eat me, Sir Alastor?"

"Shut your mouth before I stitch it up for you."

"Yes, sir! I love you! 💕"

[indouloureux]

eddie and reader in an argument?? basically eddie misses something that he was supposed to do for her like picking her up after work or she had this big thing she hoped eddie would show up to but he got caught up on something and its not the first time it happened? but pls make it a happy ending

aaaa some hurt/comfort me love. thank you for requesting! <3

eddie winces when you slam the door open, doorknob colliding loudly against the wall as you does so. and he's sputtering out your name and stop like a mantra. but you don't.

"sweetheart, i-..." he sighs, hands falling limp to his sides as you enter the bathroom, a hasty hand opening the faucet as you begin to wash your hands. "can you please just...look at me?"

his plea was reasonable, at least. you haven't looked at him since he picked you up from the studio. poor naive eddie had expected you jumping into his arms, except he'd been greeted by an irate stance of crossed arms and foot tapping; eyes he's been daydreaming of eschew from him and it hurts his chest that you're avoiding his sight.

the car ride was silent. and he even played your favorite songs as you made your way home. but nothing made you look at him, and he wonders if the empty streets of hawkins was more interesting than the fact that he chose to listen to your songs.

eddie's how are you? was greeted by a curt i'm fine. his how was your day? was answered with a shrug. his kiss was chastised by the contact of your cheek, and both his hands were on the steering wheel than your thigh. his heart ached, really, when you kept on scooting in your corner the closer you got from home.

you turn the faucet off, a small squeak heard. you wipe your hands on your jeans, running your slightly damp fingers through your hair before you finally look at him. the frustration is evident by the way your pupils were almost a speck to nothing, a slight flare on your nostrils. although what makes him nervous the most was by the way your jaw clenches.

"what, eddie?"

he looks nervously at your hand on the sink, then at the hand on your hip before he directly looks at your irritated face. "did i do something, baby? you- you haven't looked at me since i picked you up and you sound- well, are you mad?"

you sigh, in a way that tells you're tired. physically, emotionally, his poor mind's still figuring it out. eddie has a hand lifted to reach out to you. "i don't know, eddie. i'm- i'm just tired. let's go to bed."

"hey, hey, no," he stops you on your way out, his body blocking the doorway, hands on your arms to stop you. the courage you've gathered to look at him is torn apart when you refuse to look him in the eyes once more. "talk to me, baby, come on."

"eddie, i'm tired—"

"no. no, you said communication m-makes the relationship work. so you tell me now. we're not sleeping until you tell me what's wrong," eddie frowns, trying to gather up all his patience. "please, (y/n). come on."

you close your eyes, tightly, the wrinkles around your eyes deepening until you open them and stare at him. "you didn't show up to my artshow, eddie."

oh.

his face falls, thoughts now dawned upon the realization. eddie was late to your show, one he promised about. one you talked about for weeks and one he's been listening to nonstop from how proud he was. and he was late.

five hours late, to be exact. kept you waiting outside in the cold with nothing but a thin shirt and jeans, spent two cigarettes as your thoughts filtrated around worry. and when he showed up, he had the nerve to think that everything was okay.

eddie knew how important it was to you. the same person who you expected to show up and come support you like you'd do to his gigs, never went through the door; never clapped and cheered for you.

"sweetheart," he exhales, eyebrows scrunched into a tiny raise. eddie swallows his tears, lets it hurt his throat because he doesn't deserve to cry over his mistake. "i'm so sorry."

"no, eddie! you- you promised!" you jab a finger through his chest before you wedge your thumbnail in between your teeth, blinking rapidly. "you said you'd be there! you told me every day for the past two weeks that you'd be there. and then- and then you weren't and you just left me hanging with my expectations!"

you stab your finger at his hard chest at every word, your voice wavering, filling it with this thorns around your throat that it hurts to speak while you hold back your tears. eddie takes in the pain that your nail gives, but eventually wraps his hand around your wrists.

"i know. i know, baby, i'm sorry." eddie suspires. "i just— i got caught up with the deal. they took too long. i'm sorry, it won't happen again."

you sniffle, loudly that it echoes around the porcelain walls of the bathroom. you refuse to look at him, and glare at the red pick that hangs on his chest instead. his heart aches when your bottom lip wobbles as you say, "you know, that's not the first time you said that. and every time i hear you say it, i always wished i'd never hear it again."

i'm sorry, it won't happen again.

the same words he said when he missed your performance at the pep rally and at the championship game, when he was late to picking you up from work, when he missed your dinner date that you worked hard for. countless events, arguments ended with the same six words before you both fall asleep and pretend it didn't happen because you both fool yourselves to.

"there's this voice at the back of my head that kept on whispering to me that you might be late," you mutter. "and i didn't believe it because you promised, eddie. you promised. and i believed you because i thought that you'd never really do it again. that- that you've learned—"

his heart aches at the two tears that roll down your cheeks. and before he can stop them, there's a bijou of tears that stroll down. eddie cups your face, but you shake your head to move them away. "i learned. i learned, (y/n). i promise that i learned. it's just that—"

"it's just what, eddie?" you furrow your eyebrows. "it's just that your campaign was too long and you forgot and you couldn't disappoint them? it's just that some- some guy stopped you over and asked for weed? or you took dustin to talk to his girlfriend or helped gareth with his guitar? it's just what, eddie? hm?"

"what?" he narrows his eyes at you. "baby, don't put words into my mouth-"

"i'm not," you almost yell, wiping your palm on your forehead. "i'm listing down the same reasons you tell me whenever you weren't there."

eddie lets his reason die in his throat and takes all the pain your words stab to him. he sniffles, feeling his own tears at his waterline as he stupidly decides to wrap his arms around you. you try to push him away, but your tears render you weak — pushing at his chest was as useless as the reason he tries to calm you down with.

"i'm starting to feel like i'm not important to you anymore," you whisper exasperatedly. "it's like- like all my achievements, or-or my hardwork don't matter anymore. because you're always not there, eddie."

he doesn't let go, keeps you tight to his chest as you spend all your energy into pushing him away. but with all your vigor ripped to its seams, you give in, sinking into his chest as you limply wrap your arms around his elbows. eddie whimpers at your sobs, muffled by his shirt that now has tear stains — color darkening by your cries.

"i'm sorry," he repeats. "i'm sorry. i'm so, sorry, baby i-" i promise it won't happen again. he wants to say. but he's afraid of breaking his stupid promise; afraid of breaking your heart again.

"you can just-" you wipe your nose on his sleeve. "you can't just hug me and say i'm sorry every time you disappoint me by breaking your promise, eddie."

every time you disappoint me.

his heart breaks. but he knows he's right. disappointment's always expected in relationships, anyway. it's not like he's never been disappointed in you before.

eddie shushes you, pats your unkempt hair down as he lets a few tears drop down his cheeks and onto your hair as he kisses the top of your head.

"i promise it won't happen again," he says. "i- i love you. okay? you're important to me. i'm very fucking sorry that i wasn't always there. okay so- so from now on, i'm cancelling all those stupid deals, okay?" eddie bends down, placing his hands on your shoulders. and he fights the urge to smile when you finally look into his eyes. "i promise you that i'll be there. break up with me if i break that promise, okay?"

the corners of your lips tug down, before you surprisingly let out a short laugh as you push his hair behind his ears, brushing his bangs away from his forehead as you cup his face.

"i won't break up with you. but i'll hit you in your balls, eddie, i swear," you sniffle. "just promise me, okay?"

"i promise," he nods, taking you into his arms once more. "you're- you matter to me, okay?"

you want to believe him. really. but that's the point in this whole thing — which promise to believe is unknown. it's where the trust is built. so you nod, letting him wipe your tears away. "okay. okay okay. just. be there, okay?"

"yeah." he nods. "i'll be there. even at the fucking bathroom while you pee, i'll be there. or- or at an alternate dimension. or even when you ask me to follow you into mordor. i'll do it, baby."

you laugh, and it's the best thing he's ever heard the entire night.

reblogs and feedback are appreciated <3

[imaginidol]

Mingi: Dance Practice

!!mentions of nsfw!! 18 + !! do NOT interact if you’re not comfortable with smut!! okiee here is another naughty atiny request I’ve got for mingi!! this one may be a bit longer than the previous ones but if you stick with it I hope it’ll be worth it ?? 😭 (pls send feedback LMAO) if you’re interested I have a hongjoong ver. smut jongho ver. smut and a san ver. smut, wooyoung ver. smut and a yunho ver. smut ;)

You walked into the dance studio where you and the usual team of ATEEZ backup dancers practiced. Everyone was scattered around the room, stretching and warming their muscles before the rehearsal ensued.

Mingi walked in, wearing a gray hoodie and black sweatpants with large over-ear headphones hanging around his neck.

“Good evening,” he calls out to the room, and a crowd of voices sing a polite chorus of good-evening-Mingi’s in return.

His eyes quickly search the room through the wall mirror until they finally locate you.

A satisfied smile tugged at the corners of his lips at the sight of you. Part of ATEEZ’s current title track called for a very sexy 10-second choreography portion in which each member had a backup dancer partnered to them. You just happened to be picked for Mingi, and you were by all means grateful for the opportunity.

“Okay,” Hongjoong clapped his hands and called for first position.

The practice went fairly smoothly for the first two rounds. Hongjoong called a five-minute break before moving onto the third practice round, and Mingi decided to use this opportunity to talk to you.

“How you feeling?” Mingi grabs your hand and spins you in a circle, watching you twirl in content.

“It’s hard, and it’s definitely interesting, but I think it’s fun,” you pant. “What about you?”

Mingi smiles, taking a sip of his water. “I think it’s fun, too. I think we’re the best duo out of all the members,” he teases.

“There’s no way,” you smirk, nodding your head towards Jongho and his dancer, “those guys easily eat it up every time.”

“Oh, yeah?” he turns, seeing as Jongho placed his hands around his dancer’s waist, practicing the move again even during their break. “We could definitely beat those guys. We should practice more, one-on-one.”

You smirk, nodding in agreement. “That’d be fun, wouldn’t it?”

“Hmm, we could find out,” he says, crossing his arms. “You free to practice tonight?”

“Hmm,” you think, contemplating your transportation assortment to return home afterwards, “could you give me a ride home if I did?”

The boy nods, settling his eyes steadily on you now.

“I could do that for you, definitely.”

—

A few hours after everyone has left for the evening, you and Mingi stay back rehearsing your part a couple times alone.

“Fuck, that could get fun any day,” Mingi pants after the third practice round. He proceeds to pull his hoodie over his head to take it off, revealing a hot peek at his abs as his undershirt went up.

You tried not to stare, but he caught you looking through the mirror before you could turn away.

He scoffed as your cheeks turned a soft shade of red, and proceeded to walk over and plop himself on the floor next to you.

“Wanna take a break?” he asks, nudging your elbow as he lay on his back against the floor.

“We could take a break,” you mutter, deciding to also lie on your back for a moment.

He takes notice, and extends his arm in your direction, offering it as a pillow for your head.

You smile, scooting closer to the boy and resting your head against his shoulder.

Your mind wandered for a moment as you came to the sudden realization that you were practically hugging Mingi… on the floor… alone… during after-hours.

Before you could hobble away to avoid any misunderstanding, his voice softly interrupts the silence.

“Can I tell you something?”

You turn to face the boy, meeting his eyes.

“I like the way you dance.”

Your face felt hot as a reddening wave of butterflies erupted from your stomach up to your cheeks. His eyes grew slightly more hooded as he fixated them on you, a sly smirk crossing his face. The boy winked, and you felt your heart skip several heavy beats trying to read Mingi’s micro expressions.

“I like the way you dance, too,” is all you can foolishly reply, failing to think of any other viable response to the way he was looking at you.

He reaches a finger towards your jaw, pulling your face closer to his. He nodded his head, testing to see if you’d pick up his subtle gestures, and you most definitely had.

You close your eyes as you feel yourself leaning closer to Mingi, bringing a hand up to his jaw as you felt his lips slowly enclose around yours.

You slowly begin to make out with him, feeling your kisses grow messier as each became more and more intimate than the last. He was the first to bring his tongue into it, slowly lifting his body in the process until you were practically underneath him.

He only pulled away for a moment to search your face for any signs of discomfort, but was only greeted by your gentle smile as you reached to wrap an arm around his neck.

“Hey,” he grins. His silver snake chain had found its way out from under his tight shirt and was now flimsily hanging above you.

“Hey,” you giggle back.

“You’re a good kisser,” he whispers.

You smile cheekily at the sight of Mingi hovering over you, one of his arms still cradling your head from the hard floor and the other resting around your waist.

A sudden deep and private desperation for Mingi overwhelms your body, and you can’t help but want to indulge yourself lips-first into the beautiful boy in front of you.

“I can do more than just kissing,” you hear yourself whisper out loud.

Did I really just say that!?

Mingi’s eyes widen at the sudden and unexpected response, a slow smirk forming at the ends of his mouth as he mentally interpreted your words and request.

“Come to my dressing room,” he whispers, tilting his head subtly towards the door.

—

Mingi is the first to take his shirt off as he hovers over you against a soft sectional couch. You sit quietly as you watch the boy’s shirt slide off his arms to reveal a firmly toned torso adorned with his silver snake chain that sparkled under the dim light of a table lamp.

The sight of Mingi’s naked torso is enough to begin stirring heat inside of you, and you feel yourself becoming wet with each touch of his hands against your body.

You outstretch your arms and wrap them around his neck, pulling him into the wide wing of the sectional couch with you. Your lips greet each other warmly, firm kisses bringing your bodies closer together.

“Hey,” he mumbles into your lips. His arms reach towards your hips as he swings your legs around his waist. “You sure you wanna do this?”

You smile warmly at the boy in front of you, planting soft kisses against his jaw as you began removing your top and bra while he helped you slide out of your leggings with ease.

Mingi places his hands between your thighs and slowly spreads your legs as far as you’d go, taking pleasure at the sight of your gracious body in all its glory.

“Fuck,” he mutters, “you’re so beautiful.”

He dives between your legs, his warm tongue caressing the tip of your clit as he blazingly set off every electric nerve of your body.

A soft moan escapes your mouth as the boy traces the curves of your flower’s lips before diving deeper beneath them. You felt yourself getting wetter at the feel of his tongue inside of you, a soft and delicate pleasurable joy overwhelming your insides and lower abdomen altogether.

“Fuck, that feels so good,” you whimper, secretly hoping he’d eat you out for a good minute.

Several soft moans later, you pull his head up from underneath you and gently wipe his bottom lip clean with your thumb.

“My turn,” you smirk, offering him your position on the couch.

You begin trailing a line of soft kisses from his jawline all the way to his bellybutton, fixating your eyes into his as you gently began unzipping and removing his pants and boxers.

You wrap your hands gently around his hardening member, jerking him off slowly and firmly as he leaned his head back against a cushion.

You started deepening each stroke with ease as you picked up the pace, pulling sloppily at his hard cock while enjoying the sight of his scrunching face overjoyed with pleasure.

You’re steadily jacking him off when the first grunts start gradually emerging from somewhere deep within his throat. You smile devilishly as you lean in and wrap your lips around his member, pushing it deep into your throat with every persistent motion.

Your performance really begins to emit as you pick up the pace, sucking and slobbering all over his dick as far in as you could manage it. Tears began forming at the creases of your eyes with every vertical stroke of your mouth as you tried desperately not to choke on his size.

“Fuck, fuck,” he grunts, arching his lower back as the throbbing sensation of pumping blood began pounding into every vein of his cock.

You pulled your mouth away, leaving a sloppy mess of saliva and cum behind as you proceeded to climb onto his legs, positioning yourself around his cock to ride against him slowly.

Now that fucking did it for Mingi.

You hadn’t gotten more than ten strokes in when the boy clasped his hands around your ass and turned you over, fumbling you on your back as he climbed over your body.

He began thrusting into you, and he was thrusting hard.

With every rough push into your velvety inner walls, you released a lusty moan, each growing slightly louder than the last.

“You’re… so… fucking… good…” he huffed with each deepening stroke, the sweat glands around his body glossing his clear skin under the dim light.

A jet stream of tears now fully sloshed out of your tear ducts, your quiet moans now full screams of Mingi’s name coming in a loud, looped repetition.

Mingi’s full concentration failed to take alert of the gentle knocking against his dressing room door, your loud moans drowning out any potential chances of catching it in time.

Which is why, it takes him by surprise when the door flings open and in walks Wooyoung.

Wooyoung’s eyes widen as he covers his face, shrieking in embarrassment and fumbling to locate his car keys somewhere on the vanity mirror.

“Close… the fucking… DOOR!” Mingi yells out angrily as he continues to shamelessly fuck himself into you.

“I’m so— I’m so fucking sorry—” is all Wooyoung yells as he retrieves his car keys and fumbles towards the door knob.

“Get the fuck OUT!”

Wooyoung makes a dash towards the door, slamming it behind him as he ran out, not stopping until he eventually got to his car.

Now Mingi was angry.

His whole vibe was thrown off, and he really needed to release.

He pulled your legs from the sides of his waist and wrapped them over his shoulders, now fucking into you at full throttle.

If it wasn’t possible for Mingi to thrust this fucking deep inside of you before, it most definitely was happening now.

You let out desperate screams as Mingi manages to successfully and repeatedly hit your G-spot. Your body tightens, your sweat glands release, and your lower spine arches so far back when you feel the sudden burst of immense bodily rapture as an orgasm ensues, leaving you in a heated, electric trance as your insides release and relax around Mingi’s thrusting member.

Mingi lets out a loud groan as his final ejaculation of hot cum seeps all over your lower abdomen, streams of the warm liquid discharging in large amounts inside and all over your thighs.

“FUCK,” Mingi moans, fighting any more dominant urges over you and instead collapses on the couch next to you.

You both take a minute to ease your breathing, closing your eyes as you reminisced the last half-hour of intimate excitement.

“Princess,” Mingi pants, turning his head towards you, “I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be,” you offer your best smile, though you could feel already that you wouldn’t be coming into the studio for a few days. Your legs would surely give out by the morning, and you’d be lucky if you could manage to walk anywhere tonight without hobbling around too awkwardly.

“Hey,” Mingi turns, cupping a hand around your jaw.

“Hey,” you smile back.

“Can I tell you something?”

You giggle softly, endearingly looking into the gentle eyes of the boy lying next to you.

“I like you,” he whispers, “I really, really like you.”

You lift your hand towards your jaw where he’s cupped his palm around you, pulling off his fingers and instead intertwining them around yours.

“I like you, too,” you say.

“I want you to be my girlfriend,” he mumbles, “I really want you to be mine.”

You nod gently, closing your eyes for a second to think about your response.

You open your eyes and see that he’s already lovingly staring back at you.

“I could be yours,” you whisper, “I’d be good at that, too.”

maybe a small sfw pt.2 in the future? :)

[blue-aconite]

the offside rule || j.h.s

Summary: Jake learns that his girl is crazy about football, but not the kind he expected.

Warnings: jake being a sweetheart, no use of y/n

Word Count: 1.5k

Pairings: Jake Seresin x f!reader

Authors Note: This is inspired by @roosterforme's Sundays Are for the Boys and @teacupsandtopgun's Jake and Flick universe. This is also very self-indulgent and somewhat based on parts of my life.

“What are you doing?” Jake emerged from the bathroom, only to find his girlfriend on the couch, watching what looked like soccer. 

“I’m watching football, what does it look like?” She didn’t take her eyes off the screen as she reached for the beer bottle on the coffee table. 

Jake didn’t know how to respond. He knew what soccer was, he wasn’t an idiot but he never knew that his girl enjoyed the sport. 

“Soccer, baby. It’s called soccer.” 

Jake knew it was the wrong thing to say as she turned around, an unimpressed look on her face. 

“I’m going to forgive you this time. But in the future, for your information, it’s called football. Not your ridiculous term soccer.” She was all business, a sharp edge to her tone that Jake hadn’t really experienced in their relationship so far. 

There was a sparkle in her eyes that told him she wasn’t as serious as her tone suggested though. Jake flopped down on the couch next to her, plucking the beer out of her hands. “Is this MLS?” 

She snorted, rolling her eyes as she looked him up and down. “MLS is a shit league. It only got interesting since Messi signed for Inter Miami and it’s still shit. You know, we call it the retirement league because it’s where all the greats come to wind down and just kick around.” 

“Hey!” Jake protested. “Doesn’t it have a somewhat good reputation?”

She shook her head. “Baby, I love you but you’ve been greatly deceived.” She patted his cheek, opening another beer, seeing as he had stolen hers. 

Jake grumbled, sinking lower into the couch. Granted, his soccer knowledge was limited but he thought that MLS at least was a popular league. 

“What’s this then?” He pointed to the screen where the game was playing. 

His girl clapped excitedly, tossing the cap onto the table. “This is the greatest league in the world. I give you the Premier League.” She dramatically spread her arms, as if showing him something of great importance. 

In a way, Jake guessed that she was. He had no idea she was this passionate about this but he found it endearing that she did. 

“I recognise that, it’s England, yeah?” Jake was 80% certain he was right but he could also be wrong. Like he said, his knowledge of soccer was limited. 

“Yes! PL is played in England and it’s hands down the most popular and watched league. But there’s obviously others as well.” 

He was a bit intrigued and Jake also wanted to know more about something that made his girl this excited. “Others?” 

“Oh, you’ve got La Liga for example, and Ligue 1. And then there’s Serie A and Bundesliga. My dad used to watch a lot of Eredivisie too. He was a lifelong fan of Ajax.” She quieted down a bit at the end, a sad smile on her face as she remembered her dad. 

Jake pressed a kiss to her shoulder, hand finding hers. He gave a supportive squeeze. He understood now why this was so important to her. 

“Did you guys watch a lot together?” He asked as the game seemingly was paused, the players leaving the field. 

“Yeah. He took me to my first game when I was 4. I barely remember it but I remember the feeling. And he coached my team for as long as I played.” 

That surprised Jake. “You used to play?” It wasn’t something that had come up but he guessed it was somewhat of a sore subject. 

“From the age of five til I was fifteen, maybe sixteen,” she paused. “Uh, I quit playing when he got sick. He wanted me to continue but it just wasn’t the same. It was our thing and then all of a sudden he wasn’t there and..” 

Jake pulled her into his arms, lips pressed to her forehead. “Baby, why haven’t you told me about this before? I would have loved to know more about football if I knew it meant this much to you.” 

She smiled when he called it football and Jake counted it as a small victory. “I honestly don’t know. You’re more of an American football fan and I just figured you didn’t care about this.” 

“I would have cared if you told me. Hell, I know you don’t really care about the Cowboys but you still hang out with me when they play. And wear the jersey.” 

She laughed then, leaning back from his embrace but kept their hands intertwined. “I wear the jersey because I know it gets you all hot and bothered.”

“Well, that’s definitely a perk. You do look very good in blue.” Jake kissed her then, hands sneaking under her shirt to trace her skin. 

She was blushing when they pulled apart and Jake grinned, proud to be the one to make her that way. 

“So is Ajax your team?” He asked, playing with the hem of her shirt. 

“No. As much as I respect and enjoy Dutch football, the Premier League always called to me more. And then I fell in love with Manchester United.” 

Jake’s eyebrows shot up, teasingly pinching her sides. “Fell in love, huh? That means I got competition?” 

She rolled her eyes, pressing a chaste kiss to his lips. “Don’t worry, I won’t leave you for the Red Devils.” 

“Good. Is this them then?” He gestured towards the screen, where the game had resumed. 

“No, they play Aston Villa tomorrow. This is Newcastle vs Arsenal.” 

Jake watched as the team in black and white kicked the ball back and forth. “Okay, you’re going to have to explain this to me. I know nothing.” 

She launched into the game, explaining what was happening as well as informing him about the rules and terms. Jake tried his best to keep up but figured he was going to have to do some independent studying to catch up. 

If this was important to his girl, it was important to him. He watched as she kept on talking, gesturing back and forth with her hands, eyes alight with excitement. 

“But there must be leagues outside of Europe, yeah?” He asked after learning that the ones she had rambled off earlier were all based in European countries. 

“For sure, but those are the most popular ones. And considering how much of an impact the Champions League, Europa League and Conference League have, it’s difficult for leagues outside of Europe to compete.” 

Jake’s mind was reeling, trying to piece all the information together. “Wait, Europa League and Champions League? Conference? Where’s that?” 

“All of those are played by teams in Europe. You qualify for UCL when you win your league in your country, and the second tier goes on to play in the UEL and third tier in UECL.” At Jake’s confused expression, she smiled apologetically. 

“Sorry, this is way overboard. How about we keep that for another day and we just keep to the basics for now?” 

Jake breathed a sigh of relief. “Yes please.”

She handed him another beer, smiling softly. 

“So, do I get a Manchester United jersey? It’s only fair, I got you a Cowboys one.” Jake asked. 

He was comfortably leaning back against the armrest of the couch. Initially he had tried to get her to snuggle with him but quickly found out that she wasn’t going to sit still while watching the game. 

“Babe, you’ll get a jersey when you deserve one. Maybe earlier if you can explain the offside rule to me.”  

He was screwed then. “Never mind. I’ll wait.” 

“It’s really not that difficult. A player would be seen as offside if their entire body is in front of the last defender of the opposing team, on the opposing team's half.” 

Jake tried to imagine what it would look like but his mind came up blank. “You’re just speaking gibberish, that doesn’t make sense.”

She smiled softly, a gleam in her eye. “Don’t worry, I’ll make you a football fan. Just you wait.”

“I can’t wait. I’m also very excited to see you watch your team play.” 

The game was now over and she climbed into his lap, hands finding the back of his head. “Oh, you’re in for a wild ride.” 

Making the most of their position, Jake grabbed a hold of her thighs as he stood up, ignoring her squeal as he headed towards the bedroom. “How about I give you a ride right now?” 

Two months later, when Jake officially got the offside rule right, a package was waiting for him on the kitchen table when he got home. 

His heart swelled as he pulled out a bright red Manchester United jersey, embroidered with his callsign on the back. There was a note inside the box as well and Jake laughed as he read what his girlfriend had written. 

Now you’re a real football fan. Glory glory Man United! 

Ps. Come find me ;) 

“You’re playing a dangerous game, sweetheart.” He called, jersey in hand as he stalked the house. 

Her laughter echoed through the house. “Come claim your prize, cowboy.”

Taglist: @wildbornsiren​ @ryebecca @imjess-themess @reels-and-wheels @antiquitea @writercole @hederasgarden @yanna-banana @bobfloydsbabe @hollandorks @anniesocsandgeneralstore @ereardon @luminousnotmatter @roosterscock @thedroneranger @fandomxpreferences @honkytonk-hangman @princessmisery666 @bradshawsbitch​ @a-reader-and-a-writer @green-socks @angstybluejay @seresinhangmanjake @ayorooster​@notroosterbradshaw​ @indynerdgirl @gigisimsonmars @girl-in-the-chairs-void @bradshawbabes @unhinged-btch @horseshoegirl @sadpetalsstuff @bradshawbaby @ahopelessromanticwritersworld @ummjustfics​ @septemberrie​ @somenamewithepineapple​ @seresinsweetie​​ @crescentwolf​ @seresinhangmanjake​ @waklman​ @roosterforme​ @rosiahills22​ @dempy​ @i0veless​ @ilovewriting06​ @kmc1989​ @demxters @amortentiadrops @teacupsandtopgun @hangmanscoming @hangmanssunnies

[darkbluekies]

hedwig valentine story pls pls ε(´｡•᎑•`)っ 💕

Sweet like a Dior lip balm<3

Female!yandere oc x yn

Summary: valentines with your rich girlfriend is always sweet

Warnings: none?

Valentine’s special

You’re awoken by Hedwig softly caressing your face. with a yawn, you open your eyes and meet her hazel ones that are staring at you. A wide smile spreads on her face as you notice her. She’s dressed in her light blue satin pajamas — that she insisted to match with your green one. 

“Sit up, I have something for you”, Hedwig smiles and helps you up into a sitting position. 

You think that she is awfully excited this early in the morning. Carefully, you glance at the clock on the bed side table. Seven am. 

“I’m sorry, but I couldn’t sleep”, she smiles. “I was way too excited.”

“For what?” you yawn. 

“‘For what’? My love, it’s, Valentine’s day!”

“Oh, right.”

You haven’t gotten anything for her, because when you tried to go out and buy something for her, she threw a fit because you wanted to go alone. That’s her own fault, you think. 

“I have the entire day planned!” Hedwig smiles widely, clapping her hands excitedly. “We’re going to have so much fun!”

She places two neatly wrapped gifts on your legs while watching with big eyes as you open them. She has given you a rolex watch and a lip balm from Dior. 

“Why this?” you ask and hold up the lip balm. 

Hedwig giggles and opens the balm, swiping it along your lips. 

“Because I’m going to kiss you a million times today”, she smiles and pecks your lips sweetly. “And this makes it very nice. It’s my favorite one and I think that you would like one too.”

“It’s nice”, you reply, feeling it on your lips. 

Hedwig smiles. Her eyes are filled with love to the point that you wonder if she’s going to cry. She looks like she’s filled with bigger emotions than her body can handle. 

A knock on the door makes Hedwig gasp. She runs over to the door and lets her private chef come in, holding a tray in his hands. He places it on the bed and you can only drool over the thick, fluffy pancakes and multiple side dishes. The chef leaves and Hedwig smiles at you, nodding at the plates. 

“It’s yours”, she smiles. “All yours.”

“For me?” you question, even if it was clear that she had made her chef create this just for you. “Thank you.”

She watches you as you try the pancakes, and smiles widely when you make sounds of satisfaction. 

“I haven’t gotten you anything”, you say sheepishly. “You never let me go out and get you something.”

“Oh, don’t worry about that!” Hedwig exclaims and sounds genuinely surprised that you thought of that. “I already have everything I need. Just seeing you happy is all that I could ever wish for.”

She sprints up from the bed and over to her wardrobe where you have gotten your own little corner. She picks out a newly ironed outfit you own. 

“Do you want to wear this?” she asks, although you know that you will wear that no matter what. “It will match my dress.”

You nod. Hedwig smiles happily and handbags the outfit on the chair in the corner of the room. You get to change into the clothes once you have eaten and she helps you fix yourself. She styles your hair, takes care of your face and gives you jewelry. Carefully, she swipes the Dior lip balm over your lips, cups your cheeks and kisses you. 

“I love you so much”, she whispers lovingly. “You are everything I could ever need. I’m so lucky.”

You smile slightly. You never know what to answer when she bombards you with love. You never feel like anything you respond is enough. 

Two hours after waking up, you’re out of the house, hand in hand with your girlfriend. She looks like a doll, with curled hair, pink satin dress and a white handbag. Sometimes, you feel inferior to her, even though she is the one worshiping you. 

“Where are we going?” you ask as Hedwig’s driver opens the car doors for the two of you. 

“It’s a secret”, she smiles. “But I promise that you’re going to like it!”

During the entire car ride, you listen to music that you like, on Hedwig’s demand. You start to wonder if she has confused Valentine's day with your birthday. 

The car stops outside a Cafe and your eyes widens as you see the sign over the door, and the kittens in the window.

“You're kidding”, you gasp. “A cat Cafe?”

Hedwig smiles widely and nods excitedly. Her chauffeur opens your door and lets the both of you out. Hedwig drags you over to the door and you’re welcomed by two kittens that want to say hi. You pet them as Hedwig talks to the waiter about your reservation. The little kitten licks your fingers and purrs loudly. 

“Come, sweetheart”, Hedwig says and pats your shoulder. “We’ll be shown to our table.”

You let go of the little cat and joins Hedwig. You notice how the cat follows you with happy eyes. Hedwig giggles at the sight. You get to sit down by a window in the corner of the room, away from the other guests. 

“Here’s the menu, I will be back in a little while”, the waiter smiles, gives you two folders and leaves. 

You start to look through the menu and feel how the little cat jumps up on your lap.

“It’s following me”, you chuckle. 

“Yeah …”, Hedwig smiles as her unreadable smile slowly, carefully, widens. 

“Aren’t you going to see what you want?”

“Hm? Oh, yeah …”

She looks down into the menu, skimming through. You decide to get yourself a vanilla milkshake and a piece of chocolate cake. Hedwig orders a soda with a strawberry shortcake. She stares at you while you pet the cat that has fallen asleep in your lap. 

“I can already tell that you will be a great parent”, she smiles. “When we have our kids we have to get a pet too.”

“A cat?” you ask. 

“Not necessarily. I would love a dog. A pomeranian perhaps … or a poodle.”

You take a sip of your milkshake, and of course Hedwig wants to taste. She wants to take a bite of your chocolate cake as well, and you start to wonder if she ordered different food from you to be able to taste more. 

“I can’t believe how lucky I am”, she says. “I don’t dare to think about what would have happened if we would have never met, if you’d never have transferred to my school. I can’t picture my life without you. We graduate this summer, and then we’re free … and we can do what we want. Isn’t that fantastic?”

“I think that I’m going to go to university”, you say. 

“Oh, really? You don’t have to study, you know that right? You won’t even have to work. We can live on my money.”

“But I would like to continue studying.”

Hedwig looks genuinely shocked that you want to continue your studies. 

“I want to contribute to society”, you say. “Somehow.”

“We will”, Hedwig says and smiles widely. “But we won’t have to suffer for it! I’m going to be a runway model and you can do whatever you want. Indulge in your hobbies!”

You decide to not fight against her and instead enjoy the cake you ordered. 

The day continues with you and Hedwig petting cats and enjoying the food. Hedwig moves over the table to sit beside you while you play with a little kitten. She hugs your arm, leaning her chin on your shoulder. 

The sun sets early this time of year, and Hedwig insists on taking a walk around the wealthy neighborhood she lives in. The houses are three times the size of yours and worth more than your entire family’s income put together. Despite being with Hedwig for months now, you can’t still feel comfortable — you feel like you’re trying to be someone you’re not. Although cold and dark, it was nice to walk alongside Hedwig. 

“I know that this is supposed to be a ‘hot girl’ walk … but I’m cold”, you shiver. 

Hedwig turns to you and takes your hands between hers, blowing warm air. She’s always loving in every action she does. You’re impressed that a girl as wealthy and spoiled as Hedwig isn’t unbearable. She has never been insufferable, although you have noticed that she can be out of touch, but she has never been entitled. 

“Are you feeling better?” she asks sweetly. 

“When can we go inside?” you question. 

“When we’re cold enough.” She smiles slightly. “Otherwise the hot chocolate won’t taste as good.”

“What have you planned?”

“I’ve planned for us to snuggle down on the couch in the living room, watch a movie and drink hot chocolate.”

You can’t help but enjoy the idea. 

“You’re going to fall asleep before the movie starts though”, you tease her. 

“I will not!” she protests, but you know that she believes that as well.

You’re not sure that she has ever been able to watch an entire movie with you. Her excuse is that she feels so safe and comfortable with you that she gets tired, and eventually falls asleep. 

When you return inside, her father’s staff has already fixed the living room with romantic lit candles and steaming chocolate for the two of you. You change into pajamas and climb under a heavy blanket on the big couch with Hedwig right beside you. 

“Tastes better when you’re cold, don’t it?” she smiles. “I learned it when we were skiing when I was a kid. Now, I can only drink hot chocolate when I’m cold.”

You nod. Hedwig smiles and kisses your lips to lick off the whipped cream and giggles. You smile. 

Not even ten minutes into the movie, Hedwig has dozed off on your shoulder, holding your hand in hers. 

[fallinforgyu]

pretty bun can u PLEASE talk more about how perverted enha nd txt are !!! I'm pretty sure they would be all such a perverts pls pls pls

u are 100% correct anon bc one thing about enha + txt is that they’re both FULL of pervs. but lemme tell yall who’s been on my mind lately: PERV. SOOBIN.

specifically!!! pervy roommate soobin who always seems a little bit nervous around you. his cheeks always seem a little bit pink and his hands are always a little bit sweaty but he just can’t help it, he likes you so much :(

it gets worse the first time he hears you touching yourself through your shared wall. he hears a faint buzzing, a hum, but he assumes that it’s just you using your electric toothbrush. that’s until he hears a tiny little moan. his eyes widen, he claps a hand over his mouth, and then he slowly presses his ear to the wall. and what else is he supposed to do other than slip his dick out of his pajama pants and hope that you don’t hear him jerking off to your cute noises?

and then you notice is your panties slowly going missing. at first they disappeared somewhere between the washer and the dryer, but as time progressed, they started vanishing from your dirty clothes hamper. soobin keeps them in a drawer at his desk and he only takes them out late at night, pressing them to his nose (and occasionally letting his tongue swipe across the salty fabric) while he fucks a fleshlight.

he’s mortified when you finally confront him about it, of course, but give him even the tiniest hint that you want him and he’ll be begging for you. “y-you don’t even need to touch me, please, just let me touch you,” he’d plead, desperate just to get his hands on you. he almost comes in his pants just from squeezing your boobs, so imagine how insane he’d go when he’s finally kneeling between your legs. finally getting to taste the real thing, not just the essence left behind on your panties. he’d get a little lost in it, i think, his eyes glazed over as he drools all over you, fucking you with his long fingers while he sucks your clit <3

and if you actually let him fuck you??? omfg i think he’d be SO rough. he’d wanna absolutely ruin you. he’d shove his fingers in your mouth, making you gag on them until you’re crying while he fucks you with that huge dick. “been thinking about this for so long, pretty girl,” he’d groan in your ear, “making such a mess on my cock like i knew you would. perfect little pussy taking it so well.”

[toshn]

MARK GRAYSON: “YOUR HANDS ARE COLD—“

— contents: in which mark holds your hand for the first time. — from the author: first mark drabble,, eat up my underfed deprived of invincible content bbys!! more coming soon!!

“this was a bad idea. there’s too many people.”

you looked at the bustling crowd, many of whom were at stalls opting to buy something, some were eating to their heart’s content, and a few of them were children, running around here and there. it was a lively sight. however, you didn’t see it as a romantic place for a first date.

“i’m sorry, we should’ve gone somewhere else.” you looked at mark with a small apologetic grin. “come on, let’s look for some place quieter.”

“no no! it’s okay, i like it here! it.. you know, feels alive.”

“we won’t even be able to hear each other with all the noise! and what if i, or you, get lost?”

mark leaped forward, marching his way into the busy crowd, “we’ll be fine, trust me.” he turned back with a smile adorning his lips.

your concerns turned into a reality when after a few steps into entering the never-ending sea of people, you realised you’ve lost sight of mark. you craned your head in all directions in search of him as you opened your mouth to shout his name, but before you could, you felt a hand grip yours tightly. it was mark. his fingers wrapped around yours and your palm was against his. you felt your cheeks warming up.

“hey, i’m right here.”

“i can see that.”

“your hands are cold, are you alright?” he said, his face painted with worry.

“i’m ok. i have someone who can warm them up.” you cheekily replied, tucking your other hand in your coat.

mark smiled as he led you through the crowd, all you could do was follow him and stare, or rather, admire his back. mark abruptly stopped in his tracks, resulting in a pause with your daydreaming. you turned your head to the side to see what mark was looking at. it was a crochet stall, the very stall you’ve been hoping to go to at the fall market. there were bees, flowers, cows, mushrooms, all sorts of cute stuff. you hurriedly went to the stall and grabbed the first cute item you could get your hands on.

while you were looking around the stall in glee like a child on a christmas night, the buzzing feeling returned and a warm hand caressed yours. you turned your head to face mark, who was staring at a duck wearing a strawberry he held in his other hand, his hair shining a color from the distant setting sun and a small smile on his lips that you couldn’t miss. he looked incredible.

trying to not let your nerves get the best of you, you picked up a crochet sweater with your other hand and offered it to mark.

“i think this would look good on you."

@ toshn , pls do not steal or ur cheeks will!! be clapped.

[billvsgirl]

the songbird : part one

summary ; reader is a beloved, headstrong singer at a saloon in new mexico. billy is just looking for somewhere to play some poker. it’s a match made in heaven.

warnings ; some heavy insinuation (only above the cut) but aside from that, none yet 👀 i dont know if you can classify this as a slow burn but it is for me because my writing stamina is weak as hell 😇 also i might have accidentally mary sue’d reader but thats my issue

also not beta read (im lazy)

author’s note ; HIII to anyone who’s reading this, i’m sorry in advance, this is my first time writing in a very long while so forgive me. if you have any comments or suggestions please let me know 🙏 i thank @goosita and @billysgun for inspiring me to write for billy (y’all always eat thank you for supplying me with the best billy fics) pls let me know if y’all wanna see more of this series and i’m open to requests !!! okay thats all tyty

—

billy pulled the door closed behind himself ever so carefully, making sure not to alert anyone else who might still be awake in the boarding house.

he turned towards the room to look at you; waiting infront of him expectantly- yet still a bit nervous, akin to a tense game of cards. it was his move now.

you leaned into his touch as he brought a hand up to caress your cheek, stroking gently with his thumb. “my beautiful girl,” he spoke softly, quirking the corners of his lips up into a smile.

“are you sure you’re alright with this, darlin’? we don’t have to.”

but oh, how you so desperately wanted to. because it was him, because it was billy.

-

he had wandered into your life by chance; a raggedy stray appearing in a saloon on a friday night, just looking to make some cash off of a game of poker.

you were there, too, hidden behind a humble stage curtain. you dusted some lint off of your dress and cleared your throat before donning your guitar and revealing yourself to the bar patrons with a confident, nearly sanguine smile.

“why hello there, everyone! d’ya miss me?”

and you had the instant attention of the majority of the tired souls in the saloon, ears and eyes becoming alert. if there weren’t smiles, there were whistles, cheers, claps- and other things inbetween.

there was no argument amongst the patrons that you were special. you held a strong and awfully charismatic persona when you were up on that stage, performing each weekend. when you had first started singing publicly, give or take a year or so ago, it took time for the people there to pay mind to you- but there was only so much they could do before your cadence, your charm, drew them in. and now, the townsfolk always looked forward to your appearances.

“oh please, don’t flatter me! it’ll all go to my head. how’s ‘bout we get to some songs instead, boys?”

a bit of soft laughter could be heard, dispersed throughout the room, before some more scattered claps- and a low chatter returned within the building while you propped yourself onto the stool at the center of the platform.

“learned this one from my father- i hope y’all enjoy it, an’ feel free to sing along if ya’ know it too.”

you began to strum, and the noise in the room lowered at your command. if anyone wasn’t paying attention before, they were now.

“O bury me not,”

and the raggedy stray finally looked up from his hand of cards, sapphire blue eyes taking in your beauty for the first time.

“on the lone prarie.”

your voice was amber honey flowing over a silver spoon, it was devistatingly sweet on the tongue, and all the more addicting. even the most haughty cowboys couldn’t help but lend an ear to you.

“these words came low, and mournfully

from the pallid lips of the youth who lay

on his dying bed at the close of day.”

of course, it didn’t hurt the fact that you were pretty. anyone would agree. but the men there stopped bothering you with crude requests and comments a long time ago- you’d established that it wouldn’t be tolerated, that you weren’t some woman of the night who’d play into the egos of these dogs who assumed they were above everyone else. and what were they to do?

nevertheless, you were alluring. you had a voice that charmed snakes and tempted songbirds to whistle along. so, eventually, they left you be. and that was the way it was.

“he had wasted and pined ‘til o’er his brow,

death’s shades were slowly gathering now

he thought of home and loved ones nigh

as the cowboys gathered to see him die.”

some of the patrons softly sang along to that folk song, including the one that sat a bit further from the stage, who had laid his cards aside later than the others.

he wasn’t fully aware of the small smile etched across face, but he was aware of the way your dress draped gracefully over your legs, the way your hair flowed freely upon your head, the way your eyelashes batted against your skin each time you blinked, the way your hands held your guitar.

he was well aware that he had not seen a lady like you before.

and well after you finished your set, and you had taken time to sit down at the bar and thank the bartender for your drink, he found it in himself to approach you.

and if you were a bit apprehensive, he took mind of that, and kept a small distance whilst lowering his hat from his head.

“hello, ma’am, how are you doin’ tonight?”

you couldn’t help but soften your hardened expression just a bit at the sight of him; eyes that bore right into your heart and pleaded innocence, even though you had heard the chatter throughout the bar that night;

that he had accumulated bounties, that he was a force not to be reckoned with,

that he was ‘dangerous.’

“quite alright, thank ya’, can i help you, cowboy?”

you were curious, but you weren’t downright stupid. you’d certainly dealt with worse, and the demeanor of this man begged that he had no distasteful intentions, but there was further convincing to be done for your guard to come down.

“i just wanted to say- you’ve got a real beautiful voice. it was a nice treat after the day i’ve had, ma’am.”

his voice was soft, and he carried himself well, though you could hear notes of nervousness in the way his breath hitched slightly halfway through his speech. you tilted your head a bit, furrowing your brows.

“you’re william bonney, isn’t that right?”

he shifted his stance, breaking eye contact to look down towards the hat he held in his hands. he cleared his throat and looked back up at you with a coy smile.

“yes’m, so you’ve heard- i’ve heard em’ talkin’ about you too, albeit, for much nicer reasons, miss y/n y/l/n.”

and if the way your name rolled off of his tongue made your cheeks a couple of shades pinker than usual, that was your business and nobody else’s.

he was good looking, that couldn’t be denied. good looking in the kind of way that carried much more depth than anyone you’d seen before. good looking in the way of his strikingly blue eyes, his brown hair that curled up at the ends, the button up shirt and pants that complimented his figure perfectly, his strong, yet softened, demeanor.

“so, s’it true? what they say about you?”

“depends what they’re sayin’, ma’am. maybe, maybe not.”

“well, are you as dangerous as they say you are?”

“only when i need to be, ma’am.”

he was definitely a gentleman- that, or he was putting up a real good act. it wasn’t often that you were approached out of genuine, unsolicited interest. but william- who now insisted you instead call him billy, went silent each time you even looked like you wanted to say something.

and on the two of you went, having conversation through the rest of the night. he didn’t let on about a lot of things, he’d gotten used to being a man of few words. he wanted to know everything about you- as much as you were comfortable saying. and to his delight, you had lots to say.

the both of you were a few drinks in by the time you were sat side by side, filling the near empty saloon with laughter.

“and- and then what?” his smile was sickeningly wide.

“well, my mama always told me i should never let a man use me as a doormat, so i grabbed my saddlebag an’ swatted him right in the groin!”

billy chuckled lightly, imagining that scenario before taking another sip of his whiskey.

“serves ‘m right, the men here know less a’ how to treat women than they do knowin’ when’s appropriate to draw a gun.” he huffed out.

you set your elbow on the counter, resting your head on your hand. “i bet your mama’s real proud a’ you, billy. she raised you just as anyone should.”

he held his smile for just a second before moving to look down at his glass. he remained silent for a few moments, and you followed suit, understanding why.

“m’ sorry, i didn’t know-“

“no, it’s alright,” he looked up at you, offering a smile once again. “i hope that she is. i’m always just trying my best to do what’s right- what’s just. sometimes the law doesn’t wanna paint it that way, but i know what i’ve seen and done.”

and you trusted his word. you had let your guard down like this for the first time possibly ever with anyone who wasn’t family. you and this raggedy stray were both different birds, flying far from the flock. having his company was something new, something exciting. and you hungered to know more.

[satorubi]

NEEDLE N THREAD — FT NANAMI KENTO & FUSHIGURO TOJI

༄ a threesome with your colleagues leads to a very sticky situation.

♱ CW - f! reader, threesomes, big cock nanami and toji, doggy, missionary, double pen, usage of profanity, usage of pet names such as baby/love/sweetheart, use of the word bitch but only once, <> word count - 1.5k <> notes - hi hi, this is a reupload bc there are some opps in the building. pls yall i swear i don’t mean any harm </3 i wrote this in one night & @venusflytrapstar is the one to blame.

toji and nanami were good at their craft.

saving lives daily wasn’t exactly the dream job for some, but to them— it was. there was no better feeling than finishing up a patient, stitching them good as new and seeing them exit the facility with a smile on their face.

and that’s why you adored your colleagues.

toji and nanami had been there since you first began as a pre-med student, already having their lives set at the hospital when you arrived a few years ago. you adored their dedication, work ethic, and abilities just as much as you adored saturday nights.

the nights where not only toji ruptures your insides, but nanami doing the same right after him.

“god-fuckin’ damn, pussy’s so tight. like havin’ both of us fuck you senseless huh?” toji grunts, his cock plummeting into you slowly but deeply as nanami stuck his tongue down your throat.

every time the weekend rolled around, you wondered if it was a dream. to have two handsome men fucking you whenever you asked while also being professional outside of closed doors really got your tummy fluttering. it was something ravenous and exciting about the mischief of it all.

to be such persistent individuals, they were sloppy in bed— fucking you back to back as you mess up the sheets of whoever’s home you’d decided to get pounded at next; this time being nanami’s. the three of you currently having the time of your lives in his living room, ruining his brown leather couch cushions as your pussy contracts around toji’s cock for the second time tonight.

“she’s so pretty— such a slut for us, all for us,” nanami praises, the tip of his cock hitting the back of your throat making you gag. they were both fucking huge and shoving their cocks into you as if they weren’t was a mix of pleasure and pain, but you wouldn’t rather be anywhere else.

“nurse y/n, who knew you were such a fuckin’ whore? look at how this pussy’s fuckin’ me back. bet you think about us while you’re with patients, huh?” toji teases, his tip repeatedly hitting your gushy spot. nanami picked up speed while fucking your throat, his hands holding both of your cheeks. the gagging and queefing of your pussy and mouth had them both going insane.

sometimes you wondered if this would ever escalate to more. it was against protocol and way outside of the employee handbook, but the dick was just too good to pass up.

“such a fuckin’ goddess. love fuckin’ you, baby.” nanami says, caressing your cheek when he pushes his cock to the back of your throat— you choke, but you take every inch. with a gag, he pulls out of your mouth completely, leaving a string of saliva connecting from his cock to your bottom lips.

not too much. fuck is he callin’ her that for? he thought. to toji, there was no reason to. you were all just friends who fuck— well, at first.

it was at that moment you could feel toji fucking you harder. his rough hands gripped at your ass and rolls as he fucked you from behind, watching you clap back against his pelvis. he could cum right now, but he couldn’t help but to feel a small bit a jealousy bubbling inside of fim.

after multiple months of getting to know you and stretching you out, both toji and nanami could say that they’d never felt this way with anyone before— no one other than you. but that was the thing, they couldn’t both have you, not unless it was like this.

“i..i’m cumming—fuuuck yes! fuck me like that, oh my god,” you moan, not missing the way toji’s pace went from steady to rough. with a few more thrusts, you began to coat him like glaze on a donut as he guided his dick in and out of your hole.

“good girl. you’re a sexy little bitch aren’t ya’ ?” toji mumbles, his palm meeting your ass cheek leaving a sting. you giggle, averting your attention from nanami’s eyes to looking behind you at toji. you reached back and put a hand on his stomach and clawed at it with your nails.

“c’mon, toji. wanna’ feel it all, daddy,” you encourage, hearing an annoyed sigh come from nanami. you swore they acted like two envious school boys when it came down to you.

“shit, cummin’, i’m cummin’ for you, baby. where do ya’ want it babydoll?” all it took was for you to say the words in me to have toji spurting his cum into your belly. from the corner of your eye, you could see nanami roll his tongue on the inside of his cheek, removing his glasses and making his way behind you.

nanami have toji a tap on the shoulder and uttered, “move,” in a low tone.

“the fuck are you gettin’ mad about?” toji questions, slipping his dick out of your pretty little hole that just aches for more dick. nanami said nothing, he only gave toji a rather unpleasant expression. surprisingly, toji didn’t argue. instead, he moved over to the side and allowed the impatient man to take his position behind you.

“someone’s jealous, eh?”

nanami grunts, flipping you over onto your back so he could see your beautifully fucked out face, “fushiguro don’t start with me—“

“kento, don’t forget who fucked her first,” toji winks, making nanami knit his brows— chest heaving up and down with agitation. before it could get too routty, your soft voice could be heard from under them.

“hello? can you both shut the fuck up and fuck me already? geez, you act like children,” you sigh. nanami sends toji one last glare before readjusting his focus on you— the pretty angel who had no idea she was setting their hearts on fire.

“i’m so sorry, darling. forgive me,” he whispers, kissing at your neck before toji stood before you— cock hovering over your face creating a shadow.

“kiss ass,” toji mutters.

the minor setback only had your attention for a brief moment as nanami entered himself inside you. you loved how different they both felt. toji was on the bigger side, his cock stretching you out in ways you could never imagine, leaving you begging him for more. where as nanami had length. he was able to reach your spot within seconds of thrusting, sending you over the edge rather quickly.

“jesus, you’re so fuckin’ tight sweetheart,” he groans, stray pieces of blond hair sticking to his forehead as he kept a slow and gentle pace. toji on the other hand, gave you a small moment to get use to the feeling between your legs prior to fucking your face.

“open up, sweet thing,” toji says and you oblige. with your mouth stretching as wide as it could, you tried your absolute best to fit him all the way in, gargling on his cock as his balls slapped against your forehead, “aah—shit, love this fuckin’ throat. takin’ us so well, and at the same time too.”

“and this cunt too,” nanami adds, “never get over you. can’t believe you feel this good, love.”

love. you’d be lying if you said their words didn’t make you want to cry and cum all at once but here you were, taking the two men you admired and cherished the most— unable to call them yours. but deep down inside, the three of you knew the connection was endless. no matter how many times they’d remind themselves of the rules created beforehand, the feeling of your pussy around them had the two men drawn to no one other than you.

the familiar sensation in your stomach had you moaning and whimpering as the two men continued to fuck your holes. noticing your change in movement, nanami reached out to intertwine his hand with yours. a few moments after, you could feel toji doing the same, grabbing the hand that nanami hadn’t, both of them holding onto you and letting you know that they were ready for your explosion.

the intimacy and warmth that they were giving you took you there, toji removing his cock from your mouth and nanami picking up speed, “fuck i’m cumming a-again— ooh! please, please, please— it feels so good!”

“you heard the lady nanami, make that pussy cum,” toji chuckles. as if it were on command, you cunt suckled at nanami’s cock, pulling him right along with you as you reach your climax.

“cum baby, cum for me—please, i’m gonna’ cum with you,” he grunts, squeezing your hand a bit tighter. after a few more sloppy thrusts, you and nanami had cum together.

“there you go, good girl,” toji says, kneeling down to kiss your cheeks and neck. your tits jiggled with every breath you took and your mind was fuzzy from the moment. neither of them had let you go yet, both of their hands still holding on to yours and nanami’s cock still keeping warm inside you.

“that was…fuck,” nanami sighs, watching as toji’s thumbs wiped away the tears that’d escaped your eyes earlier tonight.

after cleaning you up and dressing you in one of nanami’s clean shirts, you could be found resting in the bedroom as the two men talked amongst themselves in the kitchen.

“so when are you gonna’ tell her how you feel?” toji asks, breaking the still silence of the room.

“i don’t know…when are you?”

SUUNMIC 2022 — ©️ all rights reserved to @suunmic. please refrain from copying or reposting as your own.

once again, special thank you to the lovely @venusflytrapstar !!!!

[wileys-russo]

pls can i request a ficlet/blurb: your supporting less in australia for the world cup on her days off you meet her at her hotel and walk for hours around the cities you’re in, both adamant on bringing zel with you since her family is not there and being her “siblings she never had” anyway your brother his wife and your niece fly over to support lessi aswell, both of your families obviously being close but since you only speak to your brother, only he is around. watching less score the winner in the semi finals was a dream for all of you, listening to your niece ramble incoherent words about how ‘auntie lessless’ is her idol. when she comes up after the game to see you all and greeting your brother, her family gives her a minute to soak it all up in your arms, with you whispering sweet nothing in your ear then finally your niece comes rushing up to her and gives lessi a hug just cute moments with the fam 🥲

favorite aunty II a.russo

"are we there now?" your niece asked for the one hundreth time as you withheld a groan and alessia hid her smile behind her hand, chin resting on her fist.

"not yet lilah, i promise i will tell you when we are. look you're missing out on the view!" you turned her head to continue to look out the window.

"look lilah theres a pretty bird!" katie clapped for your nieces attention, pointing out the window as the five year old ooh'd and you caught zel's eye as she glanced over the seat mouthing a thank you.

"we're here!" you winced a few minutes as the girl screamed seeing the sign for the zoo and wriggled around eagerly in her seat. "inside voice lilah." you sighed with a smile, ruffling her hair as she leaned into your side.

"if you weren't already the favourite aunty i think this will secure it for you quite nicely." your girlfriend leaned forward and whispered in your ear, kissing your cheek.

"by blood i'm her only aunty, there isn't much competition." you rolled your eyes playfully and helped your niece out of her seat belt, hoisting her up onto your hip as you patiently awaited the rest of the girls and their families to file out.

"can i go with zelly?" delilah asked hopefully pointing to your girlfriends teammate who beamed making your face soften. "you can. but hold her hand the entire time and no running off yeah lilah?" you warned sternly, the blonde nodding eagerly as you passed her over the seat and she filed off the bus chattering away to the older woman.

"looks like that competition for favourite auntys heating up eh? i'd like to throw my hat in the ring!" ella grined as her and alessia followed you off the bus. "you wish tooney she can barely understand you!" you teased, ducking away as the brunette reached out to hit you.

"hands to yourself if you want to keep them tooney." alessia warned, the taller girl throwing her arm over your shoulder as you pulled a face at her best friend who drew her finger over her throat playfully.

given the semi finals were coming up quickly and the girls hadn't had much down time the last week the staff had organised for the team and some of their families and partners to spend the day at the zoo.

having been with your girlfriend just over two and a half years now you'd leapt at the opportunity to come support her in australia, having been right by her side as she received sarina's phone call confirming her selection for the world cup squad.

you knew what it meant to her and with all the stress placed on her shoulders from her transfer you were relieved that at least there was one less thing for her to worry over now.

never having been close with your own family bar your older brother you were welcomed into alessia's with open arms from the get go. her parents already thought of you as another daughter and her brothers teased you as if they'd known you their entire life, it was a comfort not known to you in your youth.

given how things were growing up for you to be welcomed in so lovingly and so sincerely from people who at the time hardly knew you meant the world.

then once things became even more serious with you and alessia she'd organised for your brother, his wife and his daughter delilah to join all of you for a meal, her family of course falling in love with the little blonde bundle of energy that was your niece.

so when it became public knowledge that alessia had been selected your brother booked some time off and flew over with delilah to support your girlfriend which made the strikers heart absolutely melt.

"aunty lessless!" the blonde turned away from her conversation with ella, bending down and opening her arms with a grin as your niece crash tackled into her. "names so nice she insists on saying it twice." you teased playfully at your nieces choice of nickname for your girlfriend.

"hey lilah who do you love more? aunty n/n or aunty lessless?" ella smirked as the four of you wandered around the zoo, the rest of the girls all scattered and looking at things at their own pace, mary and katie trailing not far behind the four of you deep in their own conversation.

you watched through narrowed eyes as your girlfriend whispered something in your nieces ear causing her to grin. "aunty lessless!" delilah announced happily as alessia smirked smugly and your jaw dropped.

"delilah!" you huffed, pouting and crossing your arms over your chest as your girlfriend tickled the five year olds sides and ran off with her towards the elephants. "looks like we know the winner of the favourite aunty competition is, tough luck kid." ella patted your back with a mocking pout as you shoved her away.

"she will have promised her something for that answer, you know you're her favourite." katie pulled you into a hug seeing the frown etched into your features as ella stepped on the back of marys trainer, the keeper charging off after her.

"i'm sorry your family couldn't come zel." you smiled sympathetically as the two of you wandered over to where alessia was stood with your niece. "its alright, i know they would if they could." the older girl brushed it off but you knew it saddened her as you squeezed her tightly.

"you know i love you like a sister, if that helps." you smiled sincerely, quite close with the majority of your girlfriends united team mates. "yeah and ya annoy me like one too." katie sighed before grinning as you rolled your eyes.

"aunty n/n!" you looked over to where your niece sat happily in alessia's arms, wildly gesturing you over with her arms. "that one looks like you." the five year old grinned pointing to one of the elephants as you gasped in mock offence.

"right, no more hugs for that. bye lilah!" you crossed your arms and pretended to storm off, your niece yelling out after you and wiggling as alessia placed her down on her feet.

"hug me!" delilah demanded running toward you as you dodged her, repeatedly moving away from her much to the little blondes growing annoyance.

"quick lilah get her!" you stumbled a little as your girlfriends strong arms wrapped around you, holding you in place as your niece slammed into your leg, hugging you tightly. "caught you!" delilah grinned happily, smacking your leg and sprinting off toward katie and mary.

"lilah be careful!" you called out with a frown as she stuck a thumbs up your way and was scooped up by katie. "smile would you grumpy." your girlfriend pressed a sloppy kiss to your cheek as you winced and elbowed her off.

"no get off! you turned her against me." you glared at the taller girl accusingly who laughed at your annoyance, once again wrapping herself tightly round you.

"better get used to it baby, as the favourite aunty now i'll make sure we keep teaming up against you." alessia teased with a smile as you tried to wrench yourself away from her.

you settled instantly the moment her lips pressed against yours, the taller girl stealing a kiss and tugging you a little more out of sight, pressing you against a large fake rock.

"already teaching her about bribery are we?" you raised an eyebrow knowingly as the striker pulled away, your arms now looped round her shoulders as you played fondly with the baby hairs on the nape of her neck.

"no idea what you mean love." alessia grinned innocently making you roll your eyes, the few of you exchanging a few sweet kisses, soaking up the brief moment of peace together.

"so what did you say you'd give her to secure the favourite aunty position then?" "that i'd score a goal for her next game." "oh thats so unfair baby, i can't compete with that!"

~

and boy oh boy did the striker follow through on her promise.

the stadium errupted as alessia netted the winner, your heart swelling so much with pride you thought it might burst as you screamed loudly.

pulled into a tight hug by her brother gio you watched the blonde lift her arms up and run toward the away end, her eyes finding yours as she pointed right up at you before she was tackled to the ground by her team mates.

"aunty lessless did it!" you scooped up your niece as she clambered over luca's lap to get to you, sending the boy an apologetic smile as he winked and turned back to his conversation with your brother.

"she did! she promised you she would right? she scored that for you lilah." you smiled softly, gio leaning over to tickle the five year old who squealed and smacked at his large hands. "lilah!" you laughed as the girl climbed practically on top of you, reaching out for alessia's mum carol whose face lit up from where she sat in the row behind yours.

"go on then, little wriggle monster." you chuckled, lifting her over into carols arms as she tightly hugged the older woman, babbling away about her aunty lessless and recounting her she had promised delilah a goal yesterday at the zoo.

when the final whistle blew your face ached from how wide a grin was plastered on your face, screaming and cheering till your throat was red raw, jumping around and hugging everyone.

alessia's body was exhausted after playing what was a gruelling match, and she groaned quietly as she started the climb up toward where everyones families were waiting, the rest of the stadium having cleared out as the team had celebrated and changed together.

though any shred of fatigue was washed away the moment her eyes landed on you, lips curling into a smile as you threw your head back and laughed at something your brother said, alessias heart melting at how her dad wrapped you in a tight hug just as he would hug her growing up.

"here she is then, the winning goal scorer!" gio spotted her first, yelling out loudly with a whistle causing everyones families to explode into a round of applause, alessia's cheeks blushing as her team mates jostled her around.

everything finally dying down and everyones attention focused in on their own families once again alessia reached hers, your brother pulling her into a tight hug and kissing her head.

you were next, stood the row of chairs above where she stood you were for once the taller of the two of you, alessia normally having a good foot or two on you.

you couldn't keep the grin off your face as your girlfriends head settled on your chest, long arms winding around your torso as your own looped around her neck. "your hairs all wet." you giggled into her shoulder as she teasingly rubbed her damp head against you.

"i am so incredibly proud of you lessi baby, i don't even have the words to express it." you whispered to her softly, rubbing her back as she squeezed you tightly, hiding her flushed cheeks in your shoulder.

her mum watched on with a fond smile, wrestling to keep the five year old tucked away in her arms at bay, wanting to give the two of you a moment to yourselves before she let delilah loose.

you murmered sweet nothings into alessia's hair as your hand continued to rub soothingly at her back, the striker peppering a few soft kisses against your neck and jaw before her lips found your own for a fleeting second. "my stargirl." you'd whispered adoringly as her hand reached up to rest on your cheek, both of your eyes locked lovingly for a moment, alessia gently forcing herself to pull away from you.

though no sooner had her arms unwrapped from your waist had two new little ones clung onto her leg, delilah chattering away a million miles an hour as alessia squatted down to her height allowing your niece to throw her arms around her neck in a tight hug.

"aunty lessless you did it! was that for me? like you said at the zoo?" delilah asked excitedly as alessia stood, picking up the five year old with her and resting her on her hip. "of course it was, just for you!" alessia poked at the girls nose causing her to scrunch it up adorably.

"kiss again!" your niece suddenly demanded, her small fist reaching out toward you and tugging on your top making your girlfriend laugh. "you heard her babe." alessia grinned, craning her head over as you pecked her lips and delilah giggled.

"again!" the five year old clapped as you rolled your eyes but pecked alessia's lips again much to your nieces delight, the demands nothing new.

neither you or your girlfriend could figure out why but there wasn't anything that seemed to amuse delilah more than making the two of you kiss, an amusingly common occurrence when you'd babysit, not that alessia would ever complain.

you were quick to take your niece from the footballer much to the five year olds protests, allowing your girlfriend to spend some quality time with the rest of her family as you distracted delilah, carting her around to chatter to several of the other lionesses and their families.

it seemed the excitement had worn her down and as everyone started to depart the stadium delilah was slumped in your arms dead asleep, chin resting on your shoulder as her soft snores sounded in your ear.

"must run in the family." alessia teased, appearing beside you as you smacked at her with your free hand, the blonde sneaking a kiss and fondly moving a few loose strands of hair out of delilahs face.

intertwining your free hands the two of you walked toward the busses in a comfortable silence, and unbeknownst to you the thoughts flying through alessia's head were this scenario in the future.

only this time, with your own child.