#so the humour style is rubbing off on me

[randombush3]

labor omnia vincit

alexia putellas x reader

words: 7538

summary: well, it’s how you meet your wife (posh + becks style)

content warnings: a little bit of drugs and alcohol

notes: HEY HEY HEYY. this is a TRILOGY and here’s the first part. enjoy the build up x

2015. London. 

You groan at the thought of singing another word. The mug set haphazardly on the ledge reserved more for instruments than crockery, half in the air after the last time you returned it to its place, is now empty. There is no hot water left to soothe your burning throat, and there is no patience remaining in your finite store. 

The girls, on the other hand, seem to soldier on. A harmony is incorrect? They sing it again. The producer, a fat old man called Dave whose taste in music might rely on his taste in women, isn’t a fan of a certain beat? They are thinking of ways to change it. 

Ever since your single was released two years ago, this has been your life. Or, at least, the less glamorous side of it. The other side, consisting of sold-out arenas, exclusive clubs, and a world tour that only increased your total domination over the music industry, has been paused while you and the girls slave away on the second album. Apparently, you’re being uncooperative. You would call it boredom. 

“It’s four in the morning, Dave,” Anya states, jabbing out her index finger towards his Rolex, paid for with the revenue from the last single you released. It topped the charts for days. Dave glances down at the clock face with a grunt. “Look, Y/n’s already left us and gone to bed.” 

“Still here,” you murmur, rather unconvincingly, from your spot on the far-too-comfortable sofa behind the mixing desk. Sprawling out even further, you wrap your legs around the third member of your group, Gio. She squeals as you pull her on top of you. “I want to go home, though.” 

“Don’t we all know it,” Gio giggles. She’s had at least six cups of coffee since you arrived at the studio for the second recording session of the day – a solid nine hours ago. That was only after a break for a late lunch or early dinner (whichever your dietician preferred to call it). 

“We need to finish.” 

“I need to sleep,” you reply. Gio scrambles off you in time to avoid the glare you are sent by your producer. “And I’m not sleeping here again. Last time it gave me a crick in my neck and I’m fairly sure the cleaner felt me up.” 

“The sexy cleaner is mine,” Anya declares, jerking you upright. Your stomach lurches with emptiness. “Otherwise, I agree. Let us fuck off home. Please, Dave.” 

He looks at the three of you, bags under your eyes, making long rubbed off (or cried away, in Gio’s earlier over-emotional state). You have changed out of the outfit the paparazzi pictured you in earlier, opting for the stained, grey joggers you folded away in your Birkin. Anya and Gio snuck in so that they weren’t caught in their pyjamas. 

Dave sighs. 

“Tomorrow, don’t go for lunch with any of your silly boyfriends. Come here for noon, and we’ll finish when we finish. We’re getting this album done, and you can’t fire me until it’s out.” 

His sense of humour is appreciated, even if his work ethic is not, and you practically bolt out of the studio, friends in tow. 

Anya grabs your hand as you rush down the corridor, making your way to the exit. “No lunch with your boyfriend,” she repeats Dave’s words, mocking his gristly voice. You roll your eyes, snatching your hand away from your friend before pushing open the back door of the studio, heading towards your new BMW i8. 

You have been friends with Anya Kazi and Giovanna Bartoli since the age of two, meeting them on the first day of nursery, specifically after cutting one of Gio’s ringlets off with safety scissors. Though Anya happily clapped along, she did not defend you, and so you went for her hair as well. Your teacher, hoping to quell the budding animosity, placed all three of you in time-out, where a united front was formed. It hasn’t been broken since that moment, though a few years ago, you were terrified it would be. You, with a well-concealed preference for women, however, have managed to keep your friends. They assured you that they 1) already knew and 2) could not care less. 

“You don’t even like cars,” Gio scoffs at the sight of your latest purchase, your last name printed proudly on the number plate. “Was this an ‘I’m famous’ buy or did your daddy get it for you?” 

“He emailed me a few recommendations,” you answer off-handedly, sliding into the driver’s seat, switching on the ignition. It growls with a mean, menacing precision, the engine’s quality known and heard. “And don’t pretend that your family doesn’t have a Roll-Royce parked in the driveway of their million-pound townhouse.” 

“You are just as much from Hampstead as I am, girl.” 

You roll your eyes, stifling a yawn. Anya pulls out in front of you, no doubt speeding off to avoid the boy-racers you and Gio become at this time of night. 

Your flat has progressed from that of the one you shared with the girls in Princess Park two years ago. It’s nicely decorated, you like to think, with most of the work being done to it while you were touring. 

The walls are hung with artwork; some your own, some not. The canvases and frames adorn every room, dictating the vibe, declaring your individuality to any visitors who choose to admire the paintings and sketches. Then, if they were to look at the shelves dotted around the space, they’d see books with matching themes to the art. Your living room has a print of Van Gogh’s ‘Starry Night’, blown up in a gilded frame, hanging above your green leather sofa, adding colour to the white walls, and then a bookshelf filled with navy-bound novels about whatever you fancy. You’re quite chuffed with the design, though it was really the interior designer you hired who came up with the idea. 

Without a second glance to any of the intricate details of your home, you stumble your way to the bathroom, going through the motions until it is time to get into bed. It’s a big bed – one that often feels too big for just one person – but the mattress is inviting and you dive into a deep sleep head-first, knowing you will not be getting up until someone calls you tomorrow morning. 

…

Barcelona, seven hours earlier. 

The bar is busy, as most are in Barcelona at this time of night, and the girls are out for dinner and a post-training drink. The wine glasses have deceived them all, though, because they have been emptied and refilled a few more times than Xavi would be impressed with. 

A young, budding star does not drink during the season, the alcohol drought both self-inflicted and encouraged by every coach who promises to take her far. Her eyeliner must be smudged by now, but Alexia can’t leave yet because Jenni has promised that she can stay over at her place and she needs her to take her back. 

The reason for her temporary relocation is that Alexia is fed-up with her mother’s pestering, seeing as it is only one week into the season and she is already being called a workaholic. She can’t stay in that house tonight, especially when her little sister is the complete opposite: sleeping with anyone who gives her a chance and never doing anything that will help her future. Eli Segura is baffled by the lack of balance in her life – two daughters, two extremes – but she is the most concerned with her eldest, angering Alexia to no end. 

Alexia is also fed-up with this conversation. It’s all the girls seem to be talking about these days, utterly consumed with this new English girl group just like the rest of the world. 2sday has completely taken over all interesting topics of discussion, and Alexia doesn’t think she can handle being asked which one of their songs she likes the most one more time. 

She likes them, she guesses, but so does everyone. Todo el mundo is in love with all three members. 

The girls are discussing who their favourite is. 

“She’s Italian though, and that’s cool of her,” Jenni argues, putting forward her case for Bartoli as if she chose to have parents from a certain country. Alexia hums in thought, thinking of the pictures she saw from the world tour – how long her legs are, tanned and sculpted and shown off nicely by the mini-skirt she wore. “Did you know that her little sister is a model? She’s called Cristina or something. The beauty is practically in her DNA.” 

“Aren’t all three of them models?” asks Marta pointedly, finger tapping the photoshoot on the magazine cover.

“Well, all three of them are sexy,” Jenni replies, remembering just how enamoured the world is with the three break-out stars. “Ale, which one is your favourite?” The magazine that had sparked this conversation is slid towards the twenty-one-year-old, and she looks at the picture on the front page: you, Gio, and Anya, all dressed in oversized suits with nothing underneath, hair slicked back and eyes piercing, ‘girl power’ brandished over the bottom of the photograph. 

“Y/n L/n,” Alexia answers easily, fascinated by the sculpture of your face. She thinks you are beautiful, in a less crass way than her teammates. “And you lot sound like men with the way you talk about them.” 

“Ooh, Alexia is getting all high-and-mighty,” Jenni teases. “Looks like it’s time to take the baby home.” 

“She’s cranky because she’s tired and it’s past her bedtime,” adds another teammate, though Alexia is too wound up to really care who. 

They all make little pouty faces at her as she finishes the last of her glass of water, the clear liquid standing out against the deep red of most of the table. Jenni rolls up the magazine and swats her shoulder with it, before handing it over to its owner and finally allowing Alexia her rest. 

In silence, they sit in her car – an old Ford in need of replacing but not on the footballer’s list of things she will buy with the money they are now getting. FC Barcelona Femení has become, at last, a fully professional team, and Alexia looks ahead to the future with a hopeful dream and the knowledge that she will need to work hard if she ever wishes to become the best. Jenni has become a good friend ever since she joined the club last year, and she brings a global ambition to the friendship that she knows Alexia does not have. Jenni is from Madrid, and plays for Barcelona because she can, not because it is her club. Her team is the same as her grandfather’s, and she often expresses to Alexia her wish to play for them someday, as well as scoring in every league she possibly can. Young Alexia Putellas has never once considered stepping foot outside of Spain. 

Not only that, but her father died three years ago and here, in Barcelona, is where she feels closest to him. She cannot fathom a life past the plazas and the cobbled streets of her home. And she’s glad. She’s safe here, and she needs nothing more than her team, her family, and a football at her feet.  What more could she possibly want? 

As she settles on Jenni’s sofa, blanket pulled over her body, head resting on a plump cushion that smells faintly of Jenni’s dog, Alexia decides to watch whatever is on TV right now. Jenni, in an attempt to learn English, has found an English news channel that seemingly reports on ‘exclusive’ celebrity news. There you are, plastered on the screen, your picture zoomed in to the point of the pixels blurring.

The woman speaking has a high-pitched and critical voice, saying words that Alexia does not hear. She stares at your picture, considering the life you have, imagining that, one day, footballers like her have the stardom of Beckham and Messi and Ibrahimovic. Though she herself does not crave that exposure, well aware of her shyness, she thinks about the future with a wistful sigh, lost in her dream as the English woman narrates what she can see, judging how you have opened your mouth to take a bite of the food, listing the brands you are wearing. 

And, in her weird, exhausted haze, she sees your face. It’s probably only because you’re on the screen and she’s staring at it, but you are there as she pictures the growth of women’s football. You’re there in the stands as she plays in front of a sold-out Camp Nou, cheering and singing along to Catalan chants she knows you’d never actually know in real life. Slowly, she falls asleep, and, just before she closes her eyes, you are there: back to her, dressed in a familiar shirt. Alexia. 11. Somewhere in a far-off fantasy land, Alexia Putellas marries you that night. 

…

It’s Sunday. 

You drive to your parents’ house in Hampstead, only twenty minutes away from the flat you now live in, to reluctantly attend their weekly Sunday Roast. Before, it was a condition of remaining on the booking list for the annual family holiday, seeing as you had declared university was going to wait until after your gap year and then had become a popstar instead. Now that both you and your brother can afford to come anyway, the tradition is there for sentimental value. A world tour made you realise how much you love them all, even your annoying older brother. 

Your parents are lawyers who met at university and found love in a city that they never moved out of, both of them doing extremely well for themselves. They raised you and your brother to ski, horse-ride, and attend prep schools and public schools, although boarding school was not quite desirable. Your dad speaks in a booming voice, received pronunciation an act used for court, slight Mancunian accent lilting his words whenever he relaxes. 

“Darling!” your mum exclaims, surprised at your attendance just like she is every week. “Come on in, come on in. Daddy has the footie on, and your brother is on his way. Don’t you have songs to sing? How come you’re here?” 

Ushered inside your own home, you smell the brief scent of your family before adjusting to it all and fitting right back into the chaos. There’s beef in the oven, and the roar of the crowd playing faintly from the kitchen where your dad must be preparing the potatoes. He’s proud of his potatoes. 

You slip off your shoes – a new pair of Uggs – and follow your mother to the kitchen. Dad is there, doing exactly what you’d expected, hands working instinctively as his eyes focus on the TV, mouthing along with the commentary as Manchester United take on their opponent. “Sit down,” Dad says as soon as you walk in, pointing at the stools tucked into the island. “We’re not doing too badly, and today should be an easy win.” 

“I know. I do watch the football without you, Daddy.” 

He tuts. “Yeah, but you don’t get the same level of commentary on your own. Plus, United isn’t even what I wanted to talk to you about. I have thought of a publicity move that you should definitely make – it would really help you guys out.” You entertain his suggestion, knowing that’s what dads do, sitting back on the stool with a smirk on your face, already thinking of an interesting way to tell him he is being stupid. “So, what I was thinking was that you guys do a half-time show! You love football, and the girls love footballers – what isn’t to like? Plus, I bet any club would jump at the chance to make some money from extra tickets sold just to see you.” 

“And you haven’t already contacted our manager?” you check, finding your father to be quite unpredictable and rash. His ego is also far too inflated by clients who don’t see him for the kind but bumbling fool he truly is, and so he often takes it upon himself to put forward any ideas he has to your management team, much to everyone’s inconvenience (the last thing they need, amongst sorting out photos of you snogging girls and your friends in various compromising positions, is an old man telling them what he thinks will boost your image). “It’s a good idea, I must admit. I’ll bring it up.” 

“Good stuff.” There’s a clang of metal as the potatoes go in the oven too, and the fridge opens with a pop as your dad begins to fish out the carrots and parsnips to complete your meal, Your mother is responsible for everything else. “Try to get it at Barcelona or Real Madrid,” he says off-handedly. “Imagine singing in the Nou Camp. That’d be crazy.” 

“Not the appearance I dreamt of when I was little, but I’d still get to touch the grass,” you agree. 

“Y/n, we knew you’d never be a footballer. You haven’t got the coordination for that.” They tried to support you, they really did, but then music lessons took over and the sport became a form of entertainment, not exercise. “Women’s football is really something, though. In twenty years, it’ll be good. Maybe you should invest.” 

“I know zero women’s footballers, apart from – what’s her name? Kelly Smith. The English one?” 

“The Arsenal player, yeah. It’s a shame we don’t have a proper women’s team.” 

“Should I fund one?” I joke, but his face lights up and he has taken me seriously. “Okay, I know we’ve been successful thus far, but we haven’t raked in that much. Who knows! It could all go to shit and I could end up right where I started, in my childhood bedroom with no degree and no choice but to mooch off my parents.” 

“I get the sense that you’re slightly stressed about this album,” Dad says slowly, smiling wide, proud to have worked you out. He has always been good at that; knowing what you are feeling. It is a wonderful trait for him to have, seeing as your mother struggles with emotional connection of any kind. She is too much of a corporate big-shot for that, anyway. 

“It’s killing me.” You sigh, slumping on the stool. “It’ll be released and then we’ll hop on tour and I’m so tired. Anya has a crush and Gio’s dating someone and now all of our songs are about love and I just… I don’t know about that. I don’t know if I will ever know about that.” 

And, though he hesitates, Dad walks around the island and places a hand on your shoulder, telling you that you will find the right man someday. 

Deep down, he knows that the daughter who loved to watch football and never once commented on their hairstyles or pretty faces – the girl whose crushes on members of boy bands always seemed half-hearted and forced – is not a daughter who is going to bring home a man one day, with a smile on her face and a ring on her finger. He knows. It is quite possible that he has always known. Whether he is going to bring it up before you feel comfortable to talk about it is a different matter, especially since your mother has dreams of her daughter’s husband that she has whispered to him ever since they found out their second child was a girl. 

Sunday is pretty routine, which you are grateful for. Your brother, also a lawyer, discusses his latest case, resembling the stories your father used to tell at the dining table: stories you’d both yawn at when you were younger. You dish out a few industry secrets, recounting your most recent trip to Cirque Le Soir. With disdain, your mother berates you for any possible drug-usage, scolding you for something you have not admitted to but somehow knowing that you are guilty of it anyway. It feels much like the family dinners of your teenage years, but you suppose that pop stars never really have to grow up and decide that it isn’t all bad. After all, you drive home in a very stylish car.

Then, the week starts with another gruelling, waste-of-time day at the studio, where you go inside before the sun comes up and emerge long after it has set. Dave is decently pleased with the vocals so far. There are another seven tracks to go, but most of those are being written by other people. Mark Ronson, you’ve heard, is open to working with your group. It’s all very exciting, even if you feel like you have run a marathon by the end of the day. 

On Tuesday, you remember to tell your manager and publicist (she’s a woman of many talents) about your father’s idea. At first, her reluctance is extremely evident, but it later dissipates once she thinks about it, having promised you and the now-excited girls to see what she can do. 

You are on a private plane to Barcelona before you can realise what is happening. 

Bags packed with more make-up and spangled underwear than proper clothes, and sunglasses shielding your hungover eyes courtesy of last night’s consoling of a newly-single Giovanna Bartoli, you try your best not to vomit while in the air and even squeeze in a spot of light reading. The girls laugh (wincing at the sound) when they see you revisiting the Aeneid. You like Virgil, though, so you don’t mind. 

“How many days are we here again?” Anya asks, equally hungover. 

“Three,” replies your manager, not bothering to look up from her laptop. “Today, tomorrow, and the day after. Please check if the players are married before you do anything with them.” 

“I’ve sworn off men,” mumbles Gio miserably. She stretches her legs out with a sniffle, and then draws them back in to protect her broken heart. “If I’d get off with any woman, I’d like her to be Spanish.” She clears her throat, the lump of tears disappearing as she retrieves her GCSE-level Español, giving it a shot. If not to be serious than to at least piss you off. “Hola. ¿Cómo estás? ¿Quieres dormir conmigo?”

“What? And then you’re going to shove your tongue down her throat?” Gio looks at you with a smirk. “That is not how you kiss a woman.” 

“Hey, you can’t keep them all to yourself!” 

You laugh, though your manager’s attention has been caught and she is already showing her disapproval. “It would be better that I did if that’s how you think it works.” 

“None of you are kissing women.” 

“That’s not fair,” Anya protests, upset that she didn’t even get to join in the conversation before it got shut down as swiftly as a rowdy houseparty in an American teen-movie. 

“I agree. That’s not fair on Y/n, who actually needs to kiss a woman so her knickers aren’t in a twist all the time.” 

“I’ll twist your knickers in a minute,” you threaten, fist raised to Gio in good humour.

“See what I mean? She needs to let off some steam.” 

“Well, do it discreetly if you must. Do your shows, go out with the players, and bring whoever into your bed as long as they have tight lips and no vendetta against you. Gio, we’re going to have to say something about him ch–”

You gulp, not wanting your friend to cry again. “Wow, the view is really nice,” you interrupt, catching Anya’s appreciative nod in the corner of your eye as you splay your palm on the glass of the aircraft’s window, marvelling at Barcelona’s plazas and cobbled streets. Imagine this being your home, you think to yourself. 

…

Jenni is squawking when Alexia makes her way into the circle of players during their drinks break. Alexia knows her friend is excited to go to the men’s game later on today, but she hadn’t realised it is to this extent until she gets grabbed by the forward and shaken as though she is a snowglobe. 

“I got the golden ticket,” Jenni shouts in her ear, making their teammates around them laugh. “Me, you, and Mario are going to the match tonight!” 

“I already knew that?” They don’t really get free tickets, but they can be heavily discounted. Tonight isn’t a super big deal, though Alexia may stand corrected. “Was I not supposed to know that?” 

“Of course she doesn’t know,” Mariona says, squirting some of her water at the midfielder. She recoils from the droplets, but they land on her training top anyway, and Alexia is already pissed off with the entire world. “Alexia, do you seriously live under a football-shaped rock?” 

Alexia takes a moment to brush off the teasing, picturing the bursting trophy cabinet that is almost within her grasp. “Yes, and it is very homely.” 

“Madre mía, you are one of a kind,” Jenni says with a sigh, movements less aggressive as she drapes an arm around Alexia’s shoulders. “Guess who’s singing at half-time tonight. You’re going to drool so much that the people below us will think it’s raining.” 

At this, Alexia knows exactly who Jenni is talking about, and she blushes though it could easily be mistaken for redness from exercising. 

“I just think she’s pretty,” comes Alexia’s slightly defensive reply. They walk to the middle of the training pitch, rejoining the team as Xavi explains a confusing drill. Neither really listen. 

“Is this your first celebrity crush?” Mariona jibes, overhearing the conversation and finding it necessary to join in. Any excuse to poke fun at the baby of the team. 

Jenni ruffles Alexia’s hair, ruining her neat ponytail. “Alexia’s in love with a straight girl,” she sings. 

It’s then that the whole team chooses to get involved, ears perking up at the mention of Alexia’s lovelife – a more or less forbidden topic. Their captain, Marta Unzué, even chimes in with a ‘we’ve all been there’. Like a stroppy teenager, Alexia folds her arms over her chest and turns to focus entirely on football, something that she knows she loves and loves her back. They leave her alone for the rest of the training session. 

She even manages to forget about what comes after the first forty-five minutes of the match, sitting comfortably in a stadium that is her version of heaven. 

You, on the other hand, cannot distance yourself from the nerves of performing in no less than ten minutes. 

The players were nice when you accompanied Anya to speak to them, and they spent a good while fumbling their way through English to invite you all to join them tonight at Pacha. You took photos with Messi and Neymar to show your father. 

The outfit, if you can call it that, is tight and could possibly show your entire bum to eight-five thousand Culers tonight if you’re not careful. Silver eyeshadow glistens in the mirror when you peer at your reflection, inspecting the bejewelled bralette and tiny shorts you are wearing. 

Anya and Gio, who both look dazzling in their own silver combinations, tell you that it is time to get your microphones sorted. When you stand in the tunnel, ready to go out, you see that they have laid out a sheet on top of the grass so your heels don’t ruin it. Part of you wishes that you were in a football strip and boots. The music starts before you can get too reminiscent. 

You sing with the same adrenaline you always get, and the crowd becomes a blur in your mind as you lose yourself to the melody. The bass hits your heart just like the lyrics do – especially since this song was written by Anya about her last boyfriend – and you hold back tears as the choreography leads your limbs in an energetic dance that must be entertaining to watch. 

When it finishes, and your chest is rising and falling quickly as you try to catch your breath, Alexia thinks you almost catch her gaping at you. Your eyes seem to be scanning the stands. Maybe you see her. 

Maybe that is why you, in your big, black hoodie and paparazzi-proof baseball cap are sitting in the stands of Estadi Johan Cruyff the very next day. 

Alexia does not point you out to her teammates. You make it clear to all who recognise you that you are trying to be incognito, and either the fans at the stadium have no knowledge of popular culture, or they are granting you your privacy.

She is now the entertainer, shining under the spotlight of the bright sun, a ball at her feet like that is where all balls were made to be. And you watch carefully – she can feel it – but you do not stay long enough for her to even think about approaching you. 

…

2016. Somewhere in the sky between LA and New York. 

This time round, the tour has confirmed your hatred for all plane journeys, hotels, and sold-out concerts. 

You’re dead on the inside, numb to the glitter and sparkles of your life, and your eyes are always halfway to being sealed shut in the deepest slumber humanly possible. 

There are a few things that ease the disdain you have for your career, but none of those compare to the channel you have found that streams Barcelona Femení’s football matches. Your excuse, made to no one other than yourself, is that Manchester United has no women’s team. Of course you’d watch them instead, if you could. 

“This is peak lesbianism,” Gio comments, her fifth time saying the exact same thing, prodding a napping Anya to alert her to your boredom-killer on the flight. You’re glad these planes have wi-fi. “We’re in America, which has all the women’s football in the world, and you still choose to watch your crappy little stream on your cracked iPad.” 

“If you hadn’t decided to jump out at me, the screen would be just fine,” you grumble, transfixed on the way Alexia Putellas dribbles with the ball, turning and passing to Jennifer Hermoso who slots the ball right into the bottom-right corner of the net. The pitch looks damaged, and you really have researched how you can help out the sport, but it is hard to dispute anything the girls say about your crush on an unknown squad member when everyone knows you could get your football fix from the Premier League. 

You’re yet to tell anyone that you have just bought this season’s Barcelona shirt. You’re not sure if you’d be invited on the family ski trip if your father were to find out. 

“Sorry, sorry,” replies Gio, hands raised in the air, a gesture of surrender. In hindsight, your response was clipped. “Didn’t mean to distract you from such an important task. When will you tell us who it is that you fancy? We’ve been waiting for you to come to us, but, fuck me, you’ve got tight lips.” 

“And, before you say it – we’re not nosy. We just care. And we find it cute.” 

“And…” 

“What?” you practically grunt, biting your tongue as a hefty challenge sends Alexia Putellas face-first onto the patchy grass. It makes your heart jump. 

“Well, it’s not like she won’t want you, so make your move.” 

“Just like you made your move on Justin Bieber?” She winces. “We did warn you, babe.” 

“It’s alright,” Anya comforts with a small smile, though you are well aware of how funny she also found the situation. Being in LA, as a celebrity, is always an interesting experience. In Gio’s defence, she did not know about a certain model standing right behind her, and you are fairly sure she had run off to do lines with someone or other earlier. “But, yeah, seriously. Y/n, do you want us to guess?” 

“Go on. Guess.” You smirk, because they’ll never–

Anya’s hand flaps as she puts her privately-educated memory to good use. “What’s-her-face?” she squeals, hand slapping down on her thigh as the name eludes her, the flapping resuming once she remembers. “Alexia Putellas!” 

You rip your eyes from your cracked screen, widened in horror. “How did you know?” you ask, voice a whisper as you swallow your shock. 

“You talk about her all the time. ‘Ooh, she’s the future’ this, ‘watch her grow’ that. Just talk to her. She’ll fancy you back.” 

“She’s not a celebrity. Normal people don’t slide into people’s DMs like we do, and I have no clue whether or not she can speak English,” you reason, having said the same thing to yourself every time your finger hovers on that feature of Instagram. “And I don’t like her? You saw me kissing–”

“God, drop it. You know she kisses anyone with a mouth, and you also know that you’re lying your arse off. Whoever this footballer is, just talk to her. If anything, it’ll be good for you to spend time with someone who isn’t going to drag you right into their own closet.” 

“Closets in LA can be very big,” you say with a sigh, having already received a lecture about the damage-control your publicist always seems to be doing. You don’t really think it’s ‘damage’ if a photo of you enjoying yourself with someone, but your publicity team deems any picture of you with a woman one to be locked away in some encrypted file and never released in the papers. 

…

You: Hola! Congratulations on the win. :)

You cringe so hard, but you send it anyway, your friends leaning over either shoulder as they egg you on, wishing your closet gobbled you whole and spat you out somewhere further away than Narnia.

Alexia, in Barcelona, groans at the sound of her phone buzzing, wondering who on Earth is texting her this late. 

And she drops the device on her face when she sees what the notification is. 

Because it really does not make sense, and she is not used to the idea that women’s footballers could one day fraternise with celebrities like you without feeling out of place. (And she’s had a crush on you for about two years and you’re texting her at midnight to congratulate her.)

You, on the other hand, are gripping onto your phone with trembling hands, holding on for dear life. Anya, who claims her C in A-level Spanish was unjust and incorrect, is brainstorming your next message, adamant that you’ll seem cooler if you display some knowledge of her mother tongue. You don’t tell her that, of course, Alexia’s first language would have been Catalan, because you don’t want it to be obvious that you have done a little bit (a lot) of research. 

Gio tucks a strand of your hair behind your ear for you – a comforting gesture. “Hey,” she says kindly, “what’s the worst that could happen?” 

She tries. 

She fails. 

You have compiled a list within a millisecond. “I don’t know,” you start, but, oh, you do. “She could screenshot the conversation and leak it to Twitter? Or she’s not a lesbian and she is disgusted that I am? She could have a girlfriend? She could think my account’s been hacked and report me and everything’ll be deleted? Or all of the above?!” 

The chat is still open on your phone, but you can’t see past your tidal wave of anxiety. 

“I think you’re just nervous.” Understatement of the century. 

Before you can make a snide remark saying exactly that but to Anya’s face, your message is no longer the only one present. 

“She replied!” you shout, volume a concoction of fear and excitement and a thousand emotions in between. 

Alexia: Gracias por ver :)

“Thanks for watching,” Anya translates. 

You exhale. “Okay. Done. No more.” You ignore both of their facepalms with the sort of blissful ignorance you’re sure only delusional people possess, but it is better to have a healthy heart rate than to understand the lyrics to whatever ballad the two of them have in the works. 

…

“Kiss her.” 

“What?” 

“Just kidding,” Jenni giggles, winking at Alexia and stealing her glass of something-not-too-strong. 

The team has been invited to a party with the men’s team, all because their favourite girl group is back in town and are treating the club like a pit-stop on their way to Madrid for the European-leg of their tour. The album has been in the top ten worldwide ever since it was released.

Alexia looks good tonight, as said by Jenni who thought her wardrobe consisted solely of football strips and Barcelona merchandise, and she revels in her little secret. Your little secret. She hasn’t told anyone that you messaged her two months ago, even if the conversation ended with her response. 

Which is why Jenni is set on teasing Alexia about her non-existent chance with you, especially when you have spent your entire night on the other side of the reception room, deep in conversation with Neymar Jr., who is not shameful about his appreciation for the plunging neckline of your tight dress. He has a girlfriend, but Alexia has seen enough tabloid headlines to know that most famous people don’t care. 

Your glass is always full, though that is your own doing. Something about the way a pair of hazel eyes have been watching you from the minute you walked in makes the air around you feel heavier than it should, and alcohol helps to dull your fluster. 

Anya and Gio have circled back a few times, adding to their persuasion each lap. When you see Gio heading your way, a small smile playing on her lips as someone or other trails behind, you excuse yourself from your conversation with your personal hero (who, sadly, would be able to describe your boobs but not your face if he were asked) and clasp your fingers around her forearm, pulling the two of you even further from a certain women’s footballer on the other side of the room.

“She’s staring,” says Gio in a low voice, leaning in to speak into your ear. “She’s staring at you like she wants to eat you.” 

“I’d let her,” you reply, lips loosened from the champagne you’ve been drinking. “She is beautiful.” 

“She is still staring.” 

You decide to be bold. You stare back, and Alexia is trapped, frozen to the spot. “She is so beautiful.” 

“Now you’re both staring.” 

“I’m going to talk to her.” 

“You should,” she encourages, slurring. The blur might come from your distraction, your drunkenness, or her own intoxication. You don’t care. 

Absently, you nod. “Yeah.” 

She presses her fingertips between your shoulder blades, cold hands making you shiver. “Go. You got this.” 

“Yeah.” 

She pushes you away from her, in Alexia’s direction. Your feet carry you on what feels like an inevitable path. 

And you… walk right past her, out of the door, and into the warm air of the evening to have a smoke instead. 

Behind you, Gio lets out a silent scream, turning right around and giving up on your happiness because what more can she do? And Alexia, who is confused about what just happened and bored of this event anyway, is glad to be given an excuse to leave. 

Except, you are blocking her exit, cigarette pressed to your lips as you inhale the smoke like it is a lifeline. She frowns, lips a tight line of disappointment, really. “¿Tú fumas?” she asks, though she knows both the answer and of your incompetence when it comes to her language. 

You let your eyes meet hers, and Alexia shivers, though she tells herself it is only because it’s November. “Hola,” you reply. 

For some reason, Alexia is drawn in. She steps closer to you, and you don’t have anywhere to go, backed against the wall you are leaning on. You’re drunk, and the cigarette has burned down to a stub of orange and black. She’s also drunk – less so than you – and she has nothing to lose right now. She is no one, in her mind, and you are far from prudish. 

She decides, once she is barely ten centimetres away from you, that your dress is provocative, but it only adds to your existing beauty. You push your chest out, standing up straighter. 

The dance is very still, and very silent, but you can imagine what it feels like to kiss her and you know that she is thinking the same thing. 

“You can, if you want to,” you whisper, hoping she understands. 

Luckily, she does. 

Alexia fumbles her way through the first tentative second, shocked that this is what she is doing, but she finds her footing and relaxes into the taste of champagne and cigarette smoke, the heat of your body sparking a fire within her. You pull her closer, pressing her body into yours, and you are now consumed by desperation. The kiss grows messier, and Alexia’s hands begin to roam, mind lost in a haze of desire. She is explorative but she is gentle, and you gasp into her mouth as her tongue pushes past your lips and a hand settles on the curve of your bum, the other cupping your jaw. 

Briefly, she wonders how many girls you have done this with. You seem experienced. The thought, while a little disturbing, sort of spurs her on, feeding into her competitive nature. This will be unforgettable for her regardless of the outcome because it’s an interesting story to tell, but what about you? Are you even aware of what you’re doing? Are you straight? No, you can’t be. You messaged her, so you started this. She is only… finishing it? 

You sense her distraction, pulling back with a blink and a deep intake of fresh air. She tries to move back, afraid of what comes next, but you don’t let her go, clutching onto the hardened muscles of her arms to hold her in place, ready to kiss her again.

The moment is spoilt by a voice – an English voice – and the theft of your attention. Your eyes, previously hooded and dark, widen as they flit towards the door behind her, terribly upset that your friends have developed the worst timing known to man. Gio shouts again, telling you that it’s time to go. You have to get to Madrid, and the pilot would be incredibly annoyed to hear that the flight was delayed because you were too caught up in snogging a girl you may or may not fancy. 

“We really need to go!” Anya repeats, growing impatient with you as you debate giving up your entire music career. “Like, it is insane how badly you need to get your arse over here to say your goodbyes and then jump in the taxi to the airport with us.” 

“Can it just–”

“No!” they both shout in unison. 

You sigh, looking at Alexia, the proximity prodding at a feeling low in your stomach. She doesn’t squirm under the intensity of your gaze, instead sporting a lazy, blissfully ignorant grin. And you’re about to break her little heart. 

“I have to go,” you say softly, forehead resting on her shoulder as you mumble your words out. You have a duty to your job, or, as Virgil puts it: labor omnia vincit. Work conquers all.

“You have to…?” she tries. 

“Go.” 

“Tiene que irse,” Anya translates, reminding you of her presence (and her much better comprehension of Spanish). “Ahora.” 

“Ah.” Alexia’s hand cups the back of your neck as you raise your head, and she kisses you, though the kiss is short. 

You pat your body down with a sudden haste, wandering past your alcohol-clouded thoughts to remember the location of your ticket, reaching down to grab your clutch from where you’d dropped it on the floor while having a smoke. It pops open as Alexia watches your movements, and you retrieve a pen and a scrunched up ticket (you have no idea why that’s in there, but you are grateful that it is). 

“Here.” You hand her the ticket, pressing it into the palm of her hand and then sealing your goodbye with a quick peck to her lips. 

Then, you are gone, running off at an impressive speed in those heels, chasing your friends into the building. 

She pauses herself in time for a moment, drawing back her grasp on reality as her thoughts still and she breathes in your lingering perfume. And then she blinks – blinks her way back into midnight in Barcelona. 

She opens her palm to see what your gift was, unfolding the piece of paper with an overwhelming curiosity that almost rips it at the edges. 

A boarding pass from London Stansted to Barcelona-El Prat Airport, decorated in fresh, black ink.

Scrawled on top of the flight details is something much more valuable than the entrance into First Class the paper allows. 

Eleven digits. 

Twenty-two-year-old Alexia Putellas, the catalyst for change in women’s football as the world knows it, suddenly sees her future set right out in front of her. Because there you are.

#woso x reader #alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas #woso #woso fanfics #barca femeni #fc barcelona

[dotchannie]

- 𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚌𝚊𝚗 𝚎𝚊𝚝 :: j.yh x fem reader (MDNI)

synopsis: yunho wakes you up in the middle of a dream and wants to prove he’s better than his make believe counterpart.

a/n: happy yunho day! its’s another repost sorry :( but it’s a good one I promise!

wc: 900.

Warnings: reader has a wet dream, fingering, mentions of reader having tummy rolls, oral(f receiving), eye contact, pet names (princess & baby), swearing, teasing, yunho talking you through an orgasm, dream Yunho is referred to like he’s another man and hes lowkey jealous of himself, cummin on his face:(, slight humour.

Your back arches up off the bed as he drills his fingers into you, not showing any intentions of easing his efforts on your cunt and taking pride in making you squirm beneath him- writhing in pleasure as two fat fingers curl towards your front where they reach the depths within you repeadtly.

Yunho's got you lay on your back, legs spread wide before him, buffet style. One strong arm hooked around the meat of your upper thigh to keep you pinned in his prefered position, the other pisitioning at an angle that makes his biceps look delicious. Muscle flexing rythmically to match his pace.

Changing your position to observe your boyfriend work your sex, you raise yourself to rest on your elbows, watching as your stomach gathers in rolls to accomdate the shift in your body.

Typically, Yunho likes to hold eye contact when he's between your legs. Enjoying how it allows him to the be the quieter one between the two of you but also gives him the abilitly to talk you through sex- knowing how you crave the praise, crave the sound of his voice to help you cum. But when you look down your met with the crown of his head, hair grown out slightly to reveal his natural dark shade.

You groan in frustration, the reality that you haven't heard his voice nor seen his face once this entire time settling in and so you roll your hips, trying to break his focus and make him look you in the eye, but he doesn't. Doesnt even huff out a puff of air through his nose like he does when hes over stimulated. A small detail about him only you get to see in this context.

You're panting, genuinly struggling to breathe and chest heaving with the effort it takes to keep yourself on the brink of release. He's doing it on purpose you think. You both know it takes more than this but right now it feels like he's not even here with you, intentionally denying you of what you want. You hear yourself growl, flinging yourself back now in protest as you feel the ebbs of your orgasm dwindling away from you. Clenching your eyes tight to keep the exasperated tears at bay.

Suddenly the sensation changes, wet and warm between your legs and you prop yourself up once more, this time being met with a pair of sharp eyes. Yunho briefly removes his tongue from your clit, obscenely slurping on you as he pulls away.

he greets you with a wink “Morning princess”, voice full of that cocky edge- “Good dream?" he laughs before diving right back in to resume his attack.

"No, you weren't talking...asshole".

This time he does huff in amusement, air kissing the fat of your pussy and making you whine out, finally satisfied that you could hear and feel him like you craved.

Replacing his tongue with his thumb to rub slow circles against you instead, Yunho offers you some mock apologies.

"Aw i’m sorry baby, I guess dream me isn't as good to you hmm?".

You know he’s just being a tease, it's nothing new. He likes taking his time with you in bed, likes the chase before the reward but his dream land countertpart has already edged you to near completion once, or maybe it was him in reality? you have no idea anymore.

"Please Yunho, I was so close" you pout.

"You almost came in your sleep? oh that’s so precious." He stops his movements once more to lower his head back down to it's orginal position, "tell me all about it while I eat you out, maybe i'll even be nicer than him and let you cum."

He licks a stripe directly up your center, taunt muscle prodding at you as he tapers off and his eyes come up to meet yours once more.

Yunho slowly blinks, puppy dog eyes prompting you to begin speaking like he isn’t about to rip your soul from its place in your chest. You close your eyes, trying to gather your thoughts and remember exactly what he was doing but he swats your outer thigh forcing you to keep staring at him.

"ah-hng, you wher-I mean he was, ugh" you stutter through your sentence.

"That's it, keep going you've got it"

"He was finge- AH" your cut off when Yunho sucks one of your fleshy outer lips into his warmth.

"Holy Shit, he was fingering me! Please Yunho, please let me cum".

You feel his tongue intrude within your walls for the first time that night, a substitute for his fingers. Those being to busy pinning you down or prying you open to also be inside you.

Yunho feels you tightening around his tongue and briefly considers pulling away, finding humour in being as unfair as your dream but decides against it. He wants to taste you too bad to tease you anymore, and so he starts shaking his head from side to side aggresively. Stimulation from his thumb, nose and tongue sending you spiralling into your descent, escence coating his tongue in the process.

"oh fuuuuck" you drawl out, hips twitching against his face.

"Now, am I better than him?" Yunho cheekily questions, knowing fine well what your answer is.

"So much better, so so much better", you giggle "he could only dream about making me cum"

𝚙𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚋𝚕𝚘𝚐 𝚘𝚛 𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚏𝚎𝚎𝚍𝚋𝚊𝚌𝚔 !

#yunho x reader #yunho smut #yunho ateez #yunho x reader smut #jeong yunho #jeong yunho x reader #jeong yunho smut #ateez smut #ateez x reader #ateez x reader smut

[starrierknight]

𝟎𝟎𝟑. 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐮𝐬 / 𝐦𝐢𝐜𝐫𝐨𝐜𝐨𝐬𝐦

“I am tired, I have a colossal need of you.” — Albert Camus, from a letter to María Casares written c. June 1944

MASTERLIST | KINKTOBER 23' | AO3

wc— 7.2k

paring— soft!dom!gn!reader x sweet!sub!getou

cws/tags— established relationship, subtle dom/sub dynamics, shower sex, body worship, heavy praise, petnames (“darling” & “gorgeous” & “my love”), handjob, orgasm control, reader is AFAB w/ a feminine style but isn’t gendered, unprotected p in v, reader went commando, dialogue heavy, fluff so sweet it rots your teeth, porn w/ feelings, incredibly smitten suguru, this is super self-indulgent icl

With a heavy sigh, you collapsed onto the edge of the bed, your fingers running through your meticulously hair-sprayed hair, inadvertently messing up the carefully styled look you had prepared for the occasion. As you rubbed your ankle, the tender skin still smarting from the strap of your elegant heels, your gaze wandered around the bedroom.

Amid your minor ordeal, Suguru couldn't help but chuckle affectionately. His lips curled into a small, knowing smile as he observed your exasperated movements. He shrugged off the black velvet jacket of his finely tailored tuxedo, letting it fall gracefully onto a nearby chair. With a nonchalant kick, he sent his polished dress shoes sailing across the room, their absence leaving him in his crisp white formal shirt, which he leisurely untucked from his sleek black slacks. As he approached you, and the formality of the event had finally melted away.

"I despise black-tie events," you murmured exasperatedly, the words escaping with a sigh. "And I can't stand all those old schmoozers who revel in them."

"Ah, the black-tie lament," Suguru chimed in knowingly, a wry smile playing on his lips. He had heard this familiar refrain countless times after returning home with you following one of his company's extravagant soirées.

With a graceful, well-practised movement, Suguru knelt before you, his nimble fingers skillfully undoing the buckle straps of your heels. Every gesture he made was executed with precision and care, leaving no room for accidents or missteps.

As he knelt there, his deep-set eyes met yours, and you couldn't help but offer him a lopsided smile. You reached out, tenderly cupping his face, gazing down at him as he continued to assist you with your shoes.

"But I can't bear to let you endure these events alone," you remarked, your voice tinged with affectionate humour. "After all, who else would be there to whisper snide remarks in your ear about the other guests?"

A warm grin illuminated Suguru's face as he shook his head in fond amusement, the corners of his lips curling upwards. With careful tenderness, he slipped your heels off your feet, his fingers gliding soothingly over your ankles, tracing the faint indents left by the straps on your delicate skin.

"It wouldn't be nearly as entertaining," Suguru agreed, his dark eyes twinkling.

Your hands left his face, threading their way into the depths of his luxurious, ebony hair. Delicately, you undid the neat topknot, allowing those silky strands to tumble freely over his broad shoulders. Your fingers became a source of comfort as they carded through his hair, massaging his scalp with practised expertise. Suguru couldn't help but emit a contented hum in response to your skilled touch.

Suguru's hands moved with a gentle, almost reverent touch as they glided up your calves, his lips following suit with a trail of soft, lingering kisses from your ankles upward, ascending along the curve of your knees. His eyes were closed in blissful concentration, fully immersed in the intimate moment.

In a hushed, sweet voice, you observed, "You're certainly in a mood."

He responded with a contented hum, the vibrations sending a shiver of delight through your skin. "Being surrounded by all those people," his voice a low, husky murmur between kisses, "it just makes me appreciate moments like these, when it's just us."

Under the delicate satin skirt of your dress, Suguru's hands roamed and explored with a delightful curiosity, his fingers tracing the contours of your body.

You mused, "You always make a point of helping me undress when we get home."

His hands continued their journey, caressing and savouring each inch of your skin as he planted affectionate kisses along the way. He paid particular attention to your knees, ascending slowly up your thighs with deliberate, unhurried tenderness.

A mischievous glint danced in his eyes as he confessed, "I do like the routine."

You chuckled at his response. "You like seeing me naked," you teased.

Suguru's lips curled into a sly smirk as he replied, "I like seeing you routinely naked."

You huffed and smiled in spite of yourself, and you could see a flicker of pride in those eyes of his—he never tired of making you laugh, and he always saw it as an achievement. 

Suguru's hands had finally arrived at their intended destination, his fingers curling around your hips where the waistband of your underwear should have been, but instead, they encountered nothing but the soft expanse of your skin. His eyebrows arched in surprise, and he cast a crooked grin in your direction. Remaining in his kneeling position, he leaned closer to you.

"Did you really attend one of my work events while going commando?" he murmured wryly.

You bit your cheek, an impish smile dancing upon your lips as you gazed down at him. With a delicate touch, you twirled a lock of his hair around your finger.

"I might've done.”

Suguru responded with a groan of amusement and desire, his forehead finding a comfortable resting place against your thigh. His mind was a whirlwind, trying to process this new, revolutionary piece of information. 

"Pray tell, why?" he inquired, his voice sparked with curiosity, with anticipation.

You released a soft, contented sigh, your fingers idly combing through the silky strands of his hair. "I didn't want an underwear line to ruin the sleek look of this dress," you explained, your voice laced with nonchalant rationale. "Plus, I needed a little something to spice up the night for myself."

Suguru responded with an affectionate nuzzle against your thigh. "You should've given me a heads-up," he mused. "I would’ve whisked you away to one of the bathrooms and taken full advantage of that little secret."

You shook your head, a fond smile on your lips. "As much as I'd enjoy that enthusiasm, darling, we did have appearances to uphold," you reminded him.

He huffed, his voice coloured by mock frustration. "Appearances," he grumbled, "I hate them."

"Because Heaven forbid you have to keep your hands off me for a few hours," you teased, a cheeky grin gracing your lips. Leaning down, you planted a tender kiss on his forehead, leaving behind a telltale lipstick mark on his smooth skin.

"A few hours too many," Suguru reciprocated, his eyes alight with affection. He leaned up to capture your chin with his lips, placing a gentle kiss there.

Your nimble fingers, which had grown accustomed to this routine, left his hair and began working on the buttons of his crisp white dress shirt. Each button yielded to your touch, exposing more of his toned chest.

"Careful now," you chided good-naturedly as you continued to undress him. "I might start to believe you only love me for my body."

Suguru settled, resting his elbows on your thighs as you skillfully unbuttoned his shirt. His faculty remained fixed upon your lovely face, his eyes filled with profound adoration.

With a smirk dancing on his lips, he began to express his sentiments. "What can I say? I adore every inch of you, whether it's in that stunning dress or, well, not," he quipped. "But you know what I adore most of all?"

Your eyebrow arched in intrigue at his question as you pushed his unbuttoned shirt off his shoulders, revealing more of his sculpted form. "Oh?" you prompted.

"That was rhetorical," Suguru admitted with a smug grin. "I asked the question because, honestly, I can't choose just one thing to love most about you." 

You tenderly cupped his face in your hands, brushing the pads of your thumbs across his sculpted cheekbones and temples. Drawing him in closer, Suguru readily leaned into your caress, his larger hands gently enveloping yours, imparting warmth and a comforting presence.

"Yeah, yeah... You're quite the flatterer," you whispered affectionately, "I love you, too."

You leaned in to kiss him, and Suguru eagerly met you halfway. Your lips met and the world faded away into the distance, no longer important in the sanctuary of his arms.

As your lips pressed together in a passionate kiss, Suguru's hands began to explore beneath the satin fabric of your dress. With gentle but deliberate movements, he pushed up the skirt, exposing more of your skin. His skilled fingers smoothed over the satiny material to your back, where he carefully located and undid the zipper.

Meanwhile, your own hands swiftly worked to undo his belt, casting it aside with a carefree toss. Fingers trembling with desire, you moved to undo the fly of his slacks.

The warmth of Suguru's lips against yours felt impossibly soft, and the longing coursed through every cell of his body, all of them singing your name, drawing you closer and closer.

With a mutual urgency, you and Suguru helped each other shed your clothing until you both stood bare before each other. Once disrobed, he held you securely in his strong arms, the warmth of his embrace enveloping you.

As your tongues intertwined in a fervent kiss, you savoured the unique sweetness of his mouth, a taste you craved with an insatiable hunger. Suguru's lips parted with a soft sigh against yours, and he deepened the kiss with a fervour that mirrored the intensity of your shared longing. One of his hands cradled the back of your neck, while the other pressed firmly against the small of your back.

You pulled away from the passionate kiss, a tender smile of adoration gracing your lips. "Wanna get clean?" you asked, your voice filled with affection.

A low, sultry chuckle escaped Suguru's lips as he nuzzled into your ear, his hands tightening their hold on your hips. "Only if you promise we can get dirty all over again," he whispered. "I really need you tonight."

Drawing you even closer to him, your chest pressed provocatively against his chiselled torso, Suguru allowed a small smile to dance across his face as he leaned into your body. He couldn't resist placing a soft, lingering kiss on your cheek before pulling back slightly to look at you.

"What d’you say?" he asked, his voice taking on a deeper, more alluring tone, a brazen smirk gracing his handsome features.

You ran your fingers through his hair, planting a series of tender kisses along his jawline. "I say we head to the shower and warm each other up," you whispered.

"You're a mind-reader," Suguru replied softly, his breath a gentle caress against your skin as he pressed his lips to your neck. "A shower sounds perfect."

Taking your hand in his, Suguru led you towards the bathroom, a promise of sorts. As you entered, you noticed him gently flicking the shower handle, the comforting rush of hot water filling the room. The bathroom quickly filled with the soothing sound of water droplets striking the tiles and steam enveloping you both in a hazy fog.

"I hope you don't mind me taking the lead," Suguru murmured, his lips finding their way to your throat for another tantalising kiss.

You returned his playful challenge with a smirk of your own, a glint flickering in your eyes. "Oh, I'm not about to let you take the lead that easily," you teased. "I'm a little competitive myself."

Suguru rolled his eyes in good humour, though he couldn't hide the soft moan that escaped his lips as he continued to pepper your neck with kisses. 

"Oh, is that so? I had no idea you were the competitive type," he remarked in a soft, teasing tone, before returning to nibble at your neck. "Not that I've ever minded you taking the lead," he added, his voice growing huskier once more.

You smiled as your hands explored the contours of his muscular torso, tracing each curve and ridge with an appreciative touch. "I know my way around you," you replied lightly.

Suguru chuckled warmly as he savoured your caresses. His voice remained deep and sultry as he spoke, "You know what you're doing, alright. I've never doubted that."

With Suguru following your lead, you both stepped into the already-running shower. The warm water cascaded over your bodies, a gentle torrent that embraced you in its soothing warmth.

Taking his hand in yours, you couldn't help but notice the firm and commanding grip of his hand, his long fingers enveloping your smaller one in a confident grasp. The sensation of his touch was like a reassuring rhythm against your skin. He gazed at you with a tender smile, allowing you to be his guide.

Suguru remained mostly quiet, his attention fixed intently on you as the water worked its magic, washing away the tensions of the day. You couldn't help but notice the subtle change in his breathing, a hint of heaviness in the air, though it was difficult to discern if it was solely due to the steamy heat or if there was something more driving his desire. 

Who were you kidding? The something more was because of you. All you.

With a gentle yet confident touch, you pushed Suguru beneath the warm, cascading shower stream. The water enveloped his body, making his body glisten and shimmer in its cradle. Your hands glided sensually across his slick, toned physique, your fingertips tracing the lines of his muscles.

As your lips met his neck, you couldn't help but murmur: "You're so gorgeous, you know." A soft declaration of your adoration.

Suguru allowed himself to fully surrender to the warm embrace of the shower. As the water poured over him, he leaned back against the tiled wall, letting the sensation of the water washing down his chest and through his hair consume him. The heat and moisture combined cleansed him of all the leftover tension from that awful party you had attended that evening.

Your hands continued to explore his body, and you marvelled at how soft and smooth his skin felt beneath your touch. The intimate caress elicited a quiet gasp from him, his eyes fluttering closed as he succumbed to the pleasure coursing through him. A contented sigh escaped his lips as he savoured the sensations.

When he opened his eyes and met your own, your kiss on his neck and your words had their desired effect. 

"Oh, you're making me blush," he admitted, his voice growing hoarse and raspy, betraying the thirst that pulsed through him in response to you.

A soft, affectionate laugh escaped your lips as you wrapped your arms lovingly around Suguru's waist, pressing your body against his beneath the warm shower. Your lips continued their exploratory journey, planting kisses upon his chest and tracing delicate patterns across his damp collarbone.

"You're cute when you blush," you whispered against his skin.

Suguru reciprocated by wrapping his strong arms around you, drawing you closer. His lean and finely-toned physique pressed against your form, exuding a powerful yet sensuous strength. A soft, contented groan escaped his lips as he tilted his head back, closing his eyes in surrender to the delightful sensations you were bestowing upon him.

He smiled lazily as he indulged in the feel of your lips caressing his chest. "You're making me flustered now," he confessed with a quiet laugh.

"Come on, get with the program. Isn't that what I'm here for?" you teased.

Suguru's breath grew more pronounced, his desire palpable in the steamy confines of the shower. He looked down at you with mischief gleaming in his black eyes, the warm water sprayed off your intertwined bodies creating a gentle, sensual mist. 

He bit his lip. “I won’t argue, my love,” he said lowly, seeming quite relaxed despite his slightly heavy breathing. 

Suguru looked into your eyes as you smiled up at him, and he leaned down to capture your lips in a deep and fervent kiss. The warm water sprayed around, the showers of droplets dancing as they bounced off your entwined bodies.

A smile played on your lips as you kissed him, the taste of his mouth and the feel of your soaked bodies pressed tightly together igniting a fiery lust within you. Your fingers glided through his drenched hair, as if committing every one of those threads to kinetic memory. The bathroom was filled with the symphony of water droplets hitting the tiles, punctuated by the soft, contented sighs that escaped Suguru's lips as your kiss deepened and intensified.

With his arms wrapped securely around you, his fingers threading through your own hair, Suguru couldn't help but murmur his adoration between kisses. "You're just so... Mmm... Gorgeous," he breathed.

Suguru's skilled hands roamed sensually along your spine, his touch both tender and electrifying as he slowly drew you deeper into the warmth of the shower. The cascading water enveloped your bodies, the heat of it creating a sensuous cocoon that covered you from head to toe.

The passionate kiss continued unabated, your lips locked. In the midst of the fervour, Suguru bit your lower lip, a gentle yet exhilarating sensation that sent shivers down your spine. His hands caressed your body with a tender reverence.

Breaking away from the kiss, Suguru regarded you with a loving smile, his voice still husky from the ardour of your lips. "You're just too gorgeous," he whispered.

You let out a soft huff and offered a sheepish smile, your focus shifting away from Suguru as you focused on the water raining onto the tiled floor of the shower. However, Suguru wasn't about to let you hide from his adoring eyes. With a gentle touch, he used his curled index finger to lift your face, compelling you to meet his eyes once again.

"Won’t you see how I look at you?" he pleaded softly, his words carrying a profound sincerity. 

Your sight locked onto Suguru's with an intensity that mirrored the depth of your desire. Without hesitation, your lips met in a searing kiss, an unspoken promise—you would see for him, doing anything for him.

As the kiss deepened, you wrapped both your arms around Suguru's backside, pinning him against the shower wall. Your teeth grazed his lower lip with a delicate bite, the steam from the water enveloping your intertwined bodies in a haze. You tilted your head back for a quick breath before crashing your lips against his once more, your kiss now infused with an even greater force.

Suguru, utterly mesmerised by you, reciprocated by wrapping his arms around you, drawing you closer still to the wall. His hand found the back of your head, guiding you closer to his eager lips as your mouths met once more. The sound of water splashing against your entwined bodies blended with the heavy rhythm of his breathing, and your hearts beat solely for each other.

As the passionate kiss continued, it seemed that Suguru had become immersed in the sensation of your bodies pressed together, the steamy shower a haven from the rest of the world.

As you kissed and sucked on Suguru's neck, a soft, pleasure-filled moan escaped his rosy lips. He instinctively tilted his head back, granting you better access to the sensitive skin beneath his ear. Your hands, meanwhile, continued to explore his plush inner thighs, massaging and teasing in a way that was driving him wild.

The shower water continued to pour over your entwined bodies, and you relished the way your fingertips could so easily slide across his skin, feeling every dimple and scar. The bathroom was filled with the harmonious symphony of water droplets hitting the tiles, but it was Suguru's escalating panting and gasping for air that was the true melody.

In a low and breathy voice, Suguru whispered something indistinct, his words drowned out by the sounds of passion that surrounded you. Yet, his ragged breathing and the airy moans that escaped his lips conveyed a clear message—he was thoroughly enjoying your touch, and his arousal was unmistakable as you continued to stoke the flames between you.

"Hey, what was that?" you mumbled huskily into Suguru's ear, your warm breath tickling his skin before you playfully nibbled and licked his earlobe.

Suguru's lips curled, and he bit his lip ever so slightly. "Maybe I'll tell you... Maybe I won't," he teased, his voice a seductive murmur that sent shivers down your spine.

With a deliberately slow movement, Suguru inched his body closer to yours, your heated skin not even an inch apart. As you leaned in to continue, he reciprocated the gesture, his lips and tongue tracing tantalising patterns on your earlobe and neck. He moaned at the taste of your wet skin, lapping up the water droplets that slid down the curve of your neck.

His voice deepened into a husky, intimate tone as his hands moved sensually across your body, igniting a fiery desire between you. You felt his lips against your neck once more as he whispered, the words still eluding your ears, but the sensations he evoked with his touch and voice left no doubt about his intense longing for you.

You laughed lowly and took him into your hand, stroking the length of his cock at a slow and firm pace. You kept kissing his neck, biting and sucking bruise after bruise into the tender skin.

"You're such a tease. I'll find out eventually, y'know?" you muttered into his ear, nuzzling his neck. "You're lucky you're so stunning…"

He seemed startled for a moment at the sudden sensation, but then let out a small groan as he tilted his head back, resting it against the wall. He let out a soft moan as you caressed him, and you felt him get harder and more aroused by the second.

"Aw, do I look that good?" he said in a low and hoarse voice, as he looked at you and grinned again. "My love, you're just as stunning as I… Ah…!" Suguru said softly, but then his sentence was broken by a loud moan.

You let out a soft, almost conspiratorial chuckle, your warm breath teasing his earlobe, while your lips traced a tender path along his strong jawline. As you continued your gentle, rhythmic motion, your hand moved sensually up and down his dick that dripped with water and the beginnings of pre, sending shivers down his spine.

"Ah, cat got your tongue?" you whispered, your voice a seductive murmur that danced through the stifling air. A sly grin curved your lips.

Meanwhile, your other hand confidently found its way to his sculpted waist, fingers delicately tracing the outlines of his chiselled abs, and then lingering across his Adonis lines. Each touch conveyed reverence, causing his heart to race so fiercely beneath his ribs that it ached. Oh, how he ached for you.

Suguru's laughter danced in the dimly lit bathroom, his delight palpable in the way he responded to your sensual touch. Each gentle stroke of your hand on his body seemed to coax another suppressed moan—a pleasure he held just beneath the surface.

As your fingers traced the contours of his well-defined abs, you couldn't help but notice the subtle flex and clench of his muscles beneath your touch. It was as if they responded to your every whim, like his body couldn’t help but tune itself to the melody that was your touch.

His breath, now hot and heavy, rushed against your ear as he whispered, "Y-you know what you're doing to me," he groaned.

Your lips, guided by revered lust, continued their trail down, tracing the contours of Suguru's chest with a fervent hunger. With each delicate kiss, your mouth left behind a trail of passionate lovebites, branding his muscles as your canvas of desire. His skin, marked by your affectionate assault, bore the purplish ardour of tender bruises.

Suguru's body quivered under your skillful touch, each caress sending ripples of delight through him. He instinctively braced himself against the cool, tiled bathroom wall, seeking support for the waves of pleasure that cascaded through his being, completely at your mercy.

Lost in him, you couldn't help but share your admiration, your voice a sultry whisper against his heated skin. "So pretty… You even sound pretty, darling," you murmured, the words punctuating the crescendo of your passion.

In response, Suguru surrendered to a symphony of soft, melodic moans, his body occasionally tensing in blissful response. Despite his valiant efforts to maintain control, his voice grew hoarser, and his breaths became laboured. His head rested gently against the wall, his eyes half-closed, his furrowed eyebrows a testament to his focus on every exquisite sensation you offered—your words, your voice, your touch—all conspiring to drive him to the brink of ecstasy.

You fixated on Suguru, and in that moment, he was an embodiment of artistry, his wet form glistening like a masterpiece in the soft, diffused light of the steamy bathroom. Every contour, every detail, accentuated by the water's caress, contributed to the breathtaking tableau before you.

As your hand expertly moved to stimulate him with a quickening rhythm, you couldn't help but be drawn to the way his hips responded eagerly, pushing into your touch with an instinctive urgency. His pretty cock—flushed, dripping, hard and aching—twitched in your hand as precum leaked from his slit. 

Your lips danced against his earlobe, and your words, laden with praise and sweet nothings, found their way into his ear, the intimacy of your murmurs amplifying the pleasure that coursed through him. Nuzzling his neck, your breath added a sidderent kind of warmth to the wetness of the falling water.

You posed a question that held a world of anticipation, "How's it feelin'?" The words, laced with a sultry undertone, hung in the steamy air.

Suguru's struggle to contain his ecstasy was evident in the way his teeth clenched, a valiant effort to suppress a moan, which instead escaped as a small, breathy gasp that hung in the steamy air. His voice, low and hoarse, betrayed the intensity of pleasure that coursed through him, the sensation leaving him breathless.

With a tender insistence, your lips pressing gently against his neck as you whispered, "Keep talking for me, darling. I wanna hear your pretty voice." Each kiss against his sensitive skin punctuated your longing, drawing him deeper into your enchantment.

Suguru, his eyes now fully closed in surrender to the pleasure you so skillfully delivered, responded in hushed tones, his voice a sultry confession, "Mm, I'm trying not… Not to make too many noises..." He bit his lip, a gesture of restraint, before succumbing to a faint, barely audible moan. "The neighbours might complain again…" he added, a playful reminder.

“They should be grateful to hear you,” you chuckled softly and whispered again in a low, husky voice. "Is it feeling good, Suguru…?" 

Suguru's reliance on your supportive hold continued, his weight leaning entirely into your body and the tiled wall as he trembled. The soft, and deep moans that continued to escape him were sweetest music to your ears.

"Y-Yeah it's… Yes… I feel… So g-good..." he managed to articulate before succumbing to a series of sounds and mumbles that were unintelligible. His arms tightened around you, pulling you closer, and his lips found solace in kisses and nibbles on your shoulder, moaning against your slick skin.

His hips, driven by a fervent and rhythmic thirst, pressed against you in an aggressive and insistent manner. The urgency of his movements communicated a longing beyond words, a primal need for connection and release. Suguru's breath, once controlled, now grew increasingly irregular, as he whined out your name between gasps.

Your whispered encouragement became a gentle coaxing that guided Suguru deeper into your realm. "That's it, gorgeous. Just give into the feeling, yeah?" you murmured.

Suguru's attempts at speech became more elusive, his voice now completely hoarse, his words reduced to unintelligible sounds and mumbles. His deep, raspy, and hoarse moans merged with his fragmented utterances, echoed like a siren’s call in the steamy confines of the bathroom.

Undeterred by his disorientation, Suguru continued to move his hips, grinding against your hand. His strong arms held you close, the intimacy of his embrace never faltering. 

Amidst the crescendo, your voice carried an irresistible urgency as you inquired, "How close are you?" 

Suguru's response was an embodiment of his unyielding dedication to conveying his speech to you, despite the increasing difficulty, his moans growing louder and deeper, mirroring the intense pleasure that coursed through his body. With each forceful thrust of his dick into your hand, he communicated his desperation for release.

Suguru gasped and bit his lip, attempting to articulate his thoughts through a storm of sensation. A fractured moan escaped his lips as he struggled to form words. 

"Y-you're so… So… I’m so… Close," he groaned, his voice barely audible, the words delivered in a hushed and breathless cadence—a declaration of the imminent climax that hung in the steamy air.

With an urgency that matched, your hand moved with a speed and intensity that sent Suguru spiralling into ecstasy. His hips stuttered into your hand as he let out a loud, uninhibited moan, your name escaping his lips like a reverent plea.

"You're beautiful… So, so pretty when you feel good," you whispered adoringly.

Suguru's breathing escalated into a rapid crescendo, his body writhing in the throes of pleasure as he struggled to articulate his overwhelming sensations. "Nngh… Y-you… You’re…" he tried to say, his voice trailing off into a series of breathy moans.

He clung to you tighter, his arms a reassuring anchor as he continued to thrust his hips into your hand, seeking the culmination of his desire. Your words, laden with sensual intent, only added to the intense experience:

"You like the way my hand feels wrapped around you? How it's making you feel so good?" you mumbled, biting his shoulder gently and eliciting a delightful whine from Suguru, who was now on the precipice of an explosive release.

As the pleasure swelled within Suguru, he teetered on the precipice of letting it wash over him, his control slipping away in the torrent of sensation. The hot coil tightened in his abdomen, and he surrendered himself to you. 

The pleasure continued its ascent, rising up through his body like a tempest, causing him to squeeze his eyes tightly shut. His breathing became erratic, each breath escaping him in small, quick bursts as he felt himself on the verge of an explosive release. However, with remarkable restraint, he summoned the willpower to hold it in, just as you preferred him to do.

In that moment, as he fought to contain the storm of pleasure that raged, Suguru's submission to your desires and his commitment to prolonging his climax told you everything you needed to know.

You were enamoured by Suguru's breathtaking form, drawn to the mesmerising sight of his rippling abs and bulging biceps, each muscle contracting with tremendous effort as he battled to not cum before you said so. The intensity of his struggle was mirrored in the fervent movements of his hips, which pressed insistently into your hand.

The room was thick with heat and steam, the air almost suffocating in its intensity while Suguru's body glistened with a seductive combination of sweat and water droplets. His thighs clenched with a subtle tension. Suguru's body seemed to radiate an almost feverish heat—a smouldering wildfire held at bay in your grasp as he pushed harder, driven by a primal need that defied control.

“Cum for me,” you whispered.

Suguru's orgasm surged through him with an intensity that shook his body violently, a breathtaking culmination of the heat and pleasure that had enveloped him. Your hand, now coated in warm, sticky cum, continued its tender ministrations, guiding him through the euphoric release.

Amidst this, you murmured praise into his ear, your words a soothing affirmation of the exquisite pleasure he had demonstrated. Suguru, still struggling to catch his breath, gradually began to relax as the waves of ecstasy subsided. A small, quiet moan escaped his lips, followed by a series of incoherent whimpering sounds.

His voice remained slightly hoarse, a lingering echo of the passion that had consumed him moments earlier. As the intensity of the moment receded, Suguru's chest gradually relaxed, and he moved slowly, his eyes briefly closing as he descended from the euphoric peak. 

As Suguru gradually regained his composure, his breathing began to steady, and you could feel the tension slowly ebbing away from his chest and arms. In his moment of post-climactic vulnerability, he whispered a soft and heartfelt "I love you," his voice rendered even more hoarse and resonant, yet undeniably sexy and deep. Another quiet moan escaped him.

You kissed his cheek tenderly, whispering: “And I love you.”

You rinsed the hot, sticky cum from your hand in the warm stream of water from the shower, allowing the aftermath to be washed away, leaving you both to bask in Suguru’s afterglow.

"D’you wanna… Go again?" he whispered softly, as he moved his arms back around you in a relaxed way. He was still catching his breath, but he couldn’t help being eager for more. Eager for you. 

In the clasp of Suguru's strength, you found solace and security, and you leaned into his body, the warmth of the shower's stream enveloping you both. As the soothing water dripped over your skin, it worked its magic in washing away any lingering tension, leaving behind contentment.

Your playful grin added a spark of anticipation to the steamy atmosphere, and you spoke with a mischievous twinkle in your eye, "Yeah, definitely. It's time you showed me what this is all about, no?" 

Suguru's response to your cheeky remark was an appreciative groan, a sound that conveyed thirst. With a promise of pleasure in his soft words, he moved his skilled hand towards you, his fingers starting to work their magic on your body.

As his hand glided over your back, you felt his fingers dig deep into your muscles, a skillful massage that melted away any residual tension. His thumb, with a perfect balance of pressure, began to rub and press against your shoulder and neck, sending waves of relaxation through your body.

You couldn't help but hum in response to his expert touch, leaning into it with a contented sigh. "You have talented hands," you mumbled appreciatively in response to the care he was lavishing upon you.

Suguru's hand possessed a remarkable blend of strength and precision, each movement of his fingers guided by a deep understanding of the contours of your body. He continued, gradually digging a little deeper and applying a touch more pressure, unlocking the knots of tension that had lingered within your muscles.

As his fingers traced the path over your shoulders and down your back, a sensuous shiver of pleasure coursed through you in response to his expert touch. His soft, appreciative murmur only added to the intimate experience. 

"Mmn… You're so soft…" he whispered, in awe of you.

You leaned into him, allowing your back to press against the warm, slick muscles of his chest as you closed your eyes and sighed with indulgence. The soothing rhythm of his touch and the shower's water combined to create a moment of pure bliss.

Suguru's tender exploration continued as he used his other hand to navigate the terrain of your head, fingers gently threading through your hair and tracing the contours of your scalp. The sensation was soothing, his touch a delicate caress that sent waves of relaxation flooding through you.

"Yeah, relax… Relax for me… Good, that's good," he whispered, his breath tickling the side of your neck. With each word and every stroke of his hand, he guided you deeper into a state of tranquil surrender.

Suguru's body, a paradox of strength and tenderness, enveloped you. With your back pressed against him, you could feel his thoughtful adjustments, his right leg shifting slightly to ensure your comfort, and his body moving closer to yours. His skilled hand continued its sensual exploration, now focusing on your lower back, kneading and rubbing in a way that sent waves of pleasure through you. 

Your mumbled words of appreciation, "Suguru... You make me feel so much," conveyed the depth of your desire, your adoration, your love.

In response, Suguru's voice, warm and reassuring, reached your ear as he nuzzled your neck, "That's what I'm here for."

Your lazy smile conveyed a sense of contentment as you tilted your head to kiss Suguru's strong, inviting jawline—you felt Suguru's head tilt downwards when you kissed his jaw, ever ready to revel in your affection.

Turning within his embrace, you wrapped your arms around his neck and leaned in for a proper kiss. Your fingers slipped through his thick, dark hair, and he reciprocated by enveloping you in his strength, allowing you to deepen the kiss.

The sound of his raspy moan, a raw and primal expression of yearning, sent shivers of longing through your body, igniting a fiery passion in the pit of your stomach. 

Suguru's whispered plea, "Mmnn… Yes, God, yes… Kiss me..." his deep voice, tinged with a growling intensity, echoed through you.

Suguru's response was intense, his passion evident as he pressed you firmly against the wall, deepening the kiss with an unrelenting hunger. His laboured breathing, and the rhythmic movements of his hips grinding against your thigh, conveyed a longing that matched your urgency.

His hands moved with a skilled precision, repositioning you for greater comfort as the kiss grew more fervent. The graze of his teeth against your lips and tongue sent sparks of electricity through your body, each sensation a testament to the fiery passion that burned between you.

Suguru, ever the considerate lover, slowly pulled away from the kiss, his breath hot and heavy as he fought to hold back the noises of pleasure building within him, mindful of the neighbours. 

A playful tease escaped your lips as you whispered in a breathy voice, "You're no fun when you're so quiet."

"You make it hard to think, let alone speak," he admitted, his voice laced with affection.

The soothing waterfall of the shower continued to envelop both of your bodies, a backdrop to the growing intensity of your passion. With a tender gesture, you brushed some strands of wet hair away from Suguru's eyes, your actions a small but intimate act of care.

Suguru's hands, strong and sure, grasped your thighs, holding you in place for a moment as his chest pressed against you. In response, you wrapped your legs around his waist, your bodies pressed together against the slick, tiled shower wall as your passionate make-out session continued. The moans, the heat, and the humidity in the steamy bathroom only intensified.

Your whispered need, mumbled between kisses: "I want you... I want you," you fervently expressed, your words punctuating each passionate exchange of breath.

In response, Suguru's soft breath tickled your lips as he gently hushed you:

"Shhh..." he breathed, a calming gesture that invited you to savour the anticipation of what was to come. "Then take me… Take everything I have to give you."

His lips found yours once more, a tender seal of commitment before he pulled back slightly to allow you both a moment of anticipation. Your foreheads pressed together as you gazed into each other's eyes, and with a shared groan of pleasure, Suguru slowly slid inside you. The sensation was exquisite, and you panted as you adjusted to his size.

Running your hand through his sopping wet hair, you murmured, "Feels so good... Being with you," you declared in the heat.

"Mmmhm..."

The sensation of Suguru slowly moving inside you was divine—the familiar stretch, the familiar heat, the familiar lust. With your lips and your chests flushed, you were enveloped in a passionate connection that intensified with every thrust, and your toes curled as electricity shot up your spine, your toes curling.

His grunts and moans filled the steamy air as he lost himself in the intoxicating pleasure of being buried deep inside you. His face bore an expression of bliss: cheeks flushed, brows furrowed, lips parted, and his eyes briefly closing to savour your feel.

Suguru's movements became purposeful, his lips and tongue engaging with yours. Every thrust promised more pleasure, and he pressed against you with an urgency. His arms held you tightly as if he couldn't bear to let go, and a series of deep, animalistic grunts and moans of your name escaped him.

As the steamy shower water cascaded over both of you, Suguru's flushed face bore witness to the intensity of the moment. He moved with a deep and insatiable lust, the hunger in his movements growing more palpable with each passing second.

The rhythm of his thrusts quickened, and the air was hlaf-knocked out of your lungs as you cried out in response. Suguru's grip on you tightened, his body pressing against yours with increasing urgency, propelling you both closer to the brink of release. With every movement, his cock delved deeper inside you, his motions marked by an unmistakable desperation and eagerness.

Suguru felt your cunt contract and flutter around him as he thrusted inside you, a sensation that intensified the fervour of his movements. The room was filled with wet, lewd sounds of your bodies sliding against each other with each powerful thrust.

You both lost yourselves to the other’s ecstasy. Loud, passionate moans filled the steamy air as you both called out each other's names, your voices intertwined like your beings were.

In the throes of climax, your entire body convulsed, and you lost all control as waves of pleasure washed over you. Your muscles tightened around Suguru, and a scream of ecstasy escaped your lips, reverberating through the steamy shower. Your body moved and jerked uncontrollably—a surrender to the bliss that coursed through your veins.

Suguru, too, succumbed to the pleasure, letting out a sharp gasp as his entire body tensed. He froze for a moment, his cock twitching and trembling as he came so deeply inside you, filling up your pussy with his cum and marking the culmination of his own release.

As the ecstasy reached its peak, your bodies quivered with an explosive pleasure that left your minds blissfully blank, your hearts pounding in your chests. The intimate connection between you both deepened as hot, sticky cum dripped from inside you down your inner thighs, marking you as his, and him as yours.

Suguru remained connected with you, savouring the sensation of being buried deep inside your pussy, even if just for the closeness. The warm water continued to cascade over your entwined bodies, a soothing presence of its own.

As he looked down at you, Suguru couldn't help but notice the way you bit your lip, a telltale sign of the lingering sensations that coursed through your body and mind. With a tender gesture, he carded his fingers through your wet hair. Leaning down, he pressed a sweet kiss to your forehead. 

In the tranquil aftermath, you remained locked in a tender embrace, hearts beating in unison, surrounded by the warm, steamy cocoon of the shower.

The world outside the shower ceased to exist. It was just you and him; Him and you.

Just us.

a/n: we are going it ignore that the reader insert technically wore their makeup into the shower. whoopsie! anyway, this wasn't supposed to be this long... but soft suguru goes brrrrrrr. i need him to massage my left shoulder, it's fuckin killing me rn.

this work belongs to STARRIERKNIGHT . please refrain from plagiarising any of my works and do not repost/translate/modify/copy onto any platforms.

#꒰ ✎ ꒱ — tongues in trees #꒰ ✑ ꒱ — they kiss consume #꒰ 🝮 ꒱ — kt 23 #getou x reader #getou suguru x reader #geto smut #geto suguru x reader #geto suguru smut #geto suguru x you #sub geto suguru #sub getou suguru smut

[thescribeoflostmemories]

The Doll House

Yan! Modern Childe x 'pet'! Fem! reader x yan! modern Pantalone (Xtra Dessert!)

Minors do not interact or better yet, if you're uncomfortable with dark fiction. You may look away and nothing will be gone from you.

Thirsty fans, come git yer round 2 dessert. I know you guys have a separate stomach for it. Have a mood board for this fic too.

Warnings: R18+ Explicit content, Using Childe's actual name, Dub-con/non-con(?), bondage (ribbons), cosplay, use of titles/pet names: Sir, kitty, sweetie etc.., And more unnamable things to come. (+ Bad writing of smut)

This is my apology to you guys since I ran into some difficulty making the requests given in my inbox or chat, because I'll be busy for the next couple of days for personal reasons. - Puppeteer

"Y'all are thirsty, ps. Scribe doesn't know about this so please keep it between you and me." - Falaila

¶🗡️¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥¥🗡️¶

"Give me a little twirl, Darling." Pantalone commanded as you move your body around in the black lolita style cosplay.

"A-ah… " letting out a low moan as you took a step. Feeling the cat tail wag inside of your rear, no doubt that Pantalone got it just for his entertainment. Sweet chimes of bells ever bounce along with you as you get near the Regrator who sat upon a red velvet-y couch.

"Now, that's a good girl. Big improvement from last time." He smiled, having you on his lap, nipping at your exposed skin. Savoring the sight of you wearing the things he picked. Especially that collar of yours, customised embossed on the leather with his title. Hands roam around your body while your head rests on his chest. You couldn't do anything with your hands tied by a ribbon.

"Pan-!" Feeling the sharp pain on your bare bottom under your skirt making you yelp.

"Tsk, tsk, _. We talked about this, address me properly." Pushing up the frilly skirt before resting his hand on your butt cheek, rubbing it.

"I'm s-sorry, master." Whimpering as you buried your face against his chest out of humiliation.

"Mm, there we go." He hummed seemingly satisfied, it had been at least a few months after taking you in. His other gloved hand stroked your head, occasionally playing with the cat ear headband. Meanwhile, the hand that's on your ass teased you by pushing the tail a bit further in before rubbing your exposed cunt.

"Does my little kitten miss her master filling her up?" Teasing as to get a lewd reaction from you, while leaving love marks all over your neck. Knowing this would be enough to piss off Ajax once he comes back.

"We have all the time to ourselves, sweetie." Inserting his fingers in your sopping wet hole. "Oh, rose." He hissed when he felt you rubbing against him on his lap. Pulling his digits out and forcing you to lick it clean. Hesitant lips pried open as your tongue identifies the substance. “ Tasty?” Another jest, a humoured chuckle resonated from his throat.

He retreats his hands from your body, first you hear the jingle of his belt, then his zipper. It caused you to shiver in fear. " Don't be scared now." He mused before forcefully pulling you down on his lap, entering your warm entrance.

"Ngh… Master… It's too much..!" You were about to say his name again but rather not get humiliated. Tears welled up in your eyes as the pain slowly subsided into pleasure. He could feel you squeezing him tight, another spank is earned this time, his hand just squeeze your buttcheek.

"Shush, you take it as it is with pride." Kissing the side of your head before moving your hips to meet with his, letting your mouth make incoherent, lewd noises. What adds to your mortification is that the immoral act is on display to whomever enters or opens the door.

Jealous eyes met with his, the Regrator merely smirked and thrust his hips more. Hearing those sweet melodious moans from your lips satisfies him along with the saccharine tolls of the bells. Baby blue eyes that peered from the crevice of the door, stared coldly at him with an ill intent. His grip on your ass hasn't left, with one final thrust, he came inside of you. Some of his cum dribbled out, biting his lips as he felt you also came all over him.

"Mm, fuck… Who do you like better, doll. Me, Or a child?" He's asking a rhetorical question. Because he knows you'll choose him, right? It is also to taunt the little peeping tom in the room who made eye contact with him. His smile turned smug when he saw a child giving him the middle finger from the crack between the doors. In response to that, Pantalone's hand made contact with your pinkish butt cheek again earning another moan from your candied lips.

Before you could even speak, the door slammed open. "You fucking bastard, getting a head start!" Looking back at Ajax who had his shirt tattered a bit, he got into a fight earlier. While Pantalone just hummed and pulled you closer to his chest.

"Look, you're scaring her.." He cooed, kissing your forehead. It irked Ajax as you started to dread the sounds of him taking off his pants. "Oh, I'll fucking show you." Grumbled the 11th seat.

"W-wait-! I'm not ready- ah!" The cat tail is removed from your teased asshole as his cock slowly sinks in, replacing it. Letting out a loud groan, both men felt how your gummy walls clenched around them.

But that didn't stop the ginger haired combative man. "H-huu.. s-sir..!" He didn't hear your plea as he grabbed onto your bound hands from behind and used it to pull and push back into you.

"Fuck..! So, tight!" Ajax huff in your scent as your voice bounces off the room he can't even hear the sweet sounds of the bells placed on you.

Not seeing that scheming smile on Pantalone's face, he wasn't lying when he told you that he'll have more time with you than with Tartaglia. Especially when Ajax just came back from work. He figured that Pierro would assign the youngest to another turf for another shake down soon, leaving less time with you.

"Hope you don't mind working overtime, sweetheart. Unless you want us to breed you just before our wedding tomorrow."

#fatui x reader #genshin x reader #pantalone x reader #pantalone x you #childe x y/n #genshin fanfic #yandere pantalone #yandere childe #genshin smut #Falaila's Dessert #Scribe's not here!

[the-smut-analyst]

Fantasy Rom-Coms

The genre I never knew I needed. Until I found it.

Short 'n' sweet book rec post today (because I know I've been doing a lot of deep-dive analyses of late). I deserve a break. You deserve a break. So let's do it.

Here's my top three fantasy rom-com series at the moment!

Pick them up if you enjoy a bit of smutty fantasy and are in the mood to laugh.

1. Anything by Kimberly Lemming

I do not know if my tits were built for murder. I don't even think they were built with my back in mind.

Lemming is an auto-buy author for me. This woman is bloody hilarious. The humour is farcical and somewhat absurdist, which is my absolute favourite style. I grew up with the likes of Monty Python, The Mighty Boosh, and The Confessions of Georgia Nicholson - so Lemming's work is right up my alley.

Her character Alexis, the dirty-talking sword (yes, you read that correctly) is, in my mind, nothing short of comedic genius.

"Oh my god, chip my steal, you're so annoying," Alexis snapped. "Maybe if you fixed your attitude and took a bath once in a while, women would talk to you. You smell like old cheese and a mother's regret."

I know some reviewers have been thrown off my the modern vernacular in Lemming's work, due to its medieval-like fantasy setting. However, I think that is exactly what makes these books so good (and refreshing).

The love interests speak a bit more "ye oldy", while the female protagonists speak like we do. The result is something akin to what might happen if a modern romance reader were dropped into a smutty fantasy world. It's brilliant. For example:

"Every scratch," he whispered, his tone gentle and comforting. "Every bruise, I will pay back in fire and blood." I blinked. "Um... that is so sweet but so unnecessary."

I'd recommend reading Lemming's work in publication order, which is as follows (links included):

That Time I Got Drunk and Saved a Demon

Mistlefoe (novella - available with KU)

That Time I Got Drunk and Yeeted a Love Potion at a Werewolf

Two Scoops of Hellfire (novella - standalone - available with KU)

A Bump in Boohail (novella - available with KU)

That Time I Got Drunk and Saved a Human

2. Alphas of Nasila series by V.K. Ludwig

“If you ever see me running in heels, then you better run, too,” she says with a scoff. “What am I supposed to run away from, anyway?” “Me!” “Why? You got a chase kink or something?”

The best way I can think to describe this series is that it is Omegaverse satire. The pairings are alien males and human females, and the smut / romance includes all your fairly standard A/B/O tropes - with the exception of non-con. The consent is refreshingly solid here.

Book one of this series, Heat for Hire, was actually my entry into the Omegaverse. If you're unfamiliar with the genre, then this is a good place to start because the protagonist, Elli, is unfamiliar with how alpha/omega pairings work. So all the... ahem... knotting, heat cycles, etc. are explained via her first experience of them.

My skin prickles at the memory of Rhen’s growl. But only until I remember that I rubbed myself to orgasm on a civil servant.

However, book two, Knot for Nest is by far the best of the series, in my opinion. The chemistry between the two protagonists, Lucy and Tjor, is brilliant - and it's just a genuinely hilarious read. Lucy is a snarky, independent omega who absolutely knows how to play the big, bad alphas to her advantage.

Book three, Purr for Purchase, is a lot higher angst (and less comedic) than its predecessors. It wasn't really my cup of tea, but that's just because I'm not a huge fan of pregnancy in romance.

If you've tried the Omegaverse before but not enjoyed it because of the power imbalances or dub/non-con, then I'd still recommend this series. The Omega / Alpha dynamic is very much reserved for the bedroom and does not reflect how the couple interacts outside of it. This is particularly true of Lucy and Tjor. She might enjoy being "dominated" during sex, but she genuinely holds all the power in the relationship.

“Big, bad alpha, all calm and well-behaved between my thighs.”

The characters in each Alphas of Nasila book are interconnected and the events chronological. However, you do not necessarily have to read these books in order. If you're sceptical of the Omegaverse in general, start with book two. All these novels are available with KU.

3. Claws & Cubicles Series by Kate Prior

Some people really haven’t adjusted to life under the Dark Reign of Terror yet. Some things are different, but honestly it’s all cosmetic. Things aren’t that different from when we had a normal, living CEO.

This series is like The Office, but with monsters (and smut). The dry, relatable humour of a boring corporate job - but with non-human co-workers like orcs, the undead, etc - is genius.

The comedy definitely leans into that classic British deadpan / understatement style. Think IT Crowd, Faulty Towers, and After Life. I think anyone who's ever worked in an office will definitely be smirking and chuckling their way through this series.

“You could have just called me in. I’ve got skin.” I wonder if that last remark is rude or something. After all, he doesn’t really have skin, to my knowledge. I hope I don’t have to take an undead sensitivity training class now.

Book one, Live Laugh Lich, gets pretty kinky (the MMC has three... er... yes). The smut here isn't going to be for everyone. But I liked the humour so much that I didn't really mind if the intimate scenes weren't my cup of tea.

However book two, The Orc From the Office, holds a much broader appeal, I think. I adored this installment. I'd recommend pushing through and reading this, even if you had mixed feelings on book one. The orc MMC is a socially awkward cinnamon roll and I love him.

I wonder distantly if my health insurance covers being eviscerated by Orc cock.

Book three, The Gargoyle from General Management, left me a bit wanting in terms of the character development. However, the setting of everyone being away together on a company retreat was comedy gold.

All of the Claws & Cubicles books are available on KU.

That's all! I hope you enjoy the smutty rom-com fantasy recs!

This post includes affiliate links to help me create content. No pressure to use them! But if you do, I'll be very grateful :)

#book recs #fantasy romance #romance #smut #book recommendations #sci fi romance #romantasy #omegaverse #kimberly lemming #vk ludwig #kate prior #alphas of nasila #mead mishaps #claws and cubicles #monster romance

[mazeinthemiroh]

han sfw alphabet

genre: fluff

word count: 2.2k

warnings: none

requested?: yes

song rec: music for a sushi restaurant by harry styles

pls like and reblog if you enjoyed! feel free to request anything <3

a - affection (how affectionate are they? how do they show affection)

once han is fully comfortable with someone, he is pretty much the most affectionate bundle of fluff you will ever know

and he shows his affection in various ways. sometimes he will pull you in for random hugs and pepper your face with numerous kisses

or he might stay up all night writing a whole rap song about his feelings for you and how he is lost without you, you know, the usual swaggy stuff

b - best friend (what would they be like as a best friend?)

his best friend is his safe place

he's the type of friend that cherishes having someone to joke around with. if you get his sense of humour than you guys are definitely gonna hit it off from day 1!

he just loves having someone who will go out and do stuff with him. and han is pretty much for anything you suggest, he's very open-minded! you want to go rock climbing? sure thing! you want to go fishing? not a problem! you want to eat you heart out at a buffet restaurant? he's already there.

c - cuddles (would they like to cuddle? how do they cuddle?)

he can be very cuddly

might take him some time at the start of the relationship to get comfortable, but once he can be very physically affection in general

he loves cuddling into you when you guys are watching a movie and snuggled up on the couch together. he will always have a fluffy blanket to hand and will most likely be the one to lean on your shoulder, expecting you to place an arm around him uwu

d = domestic (do they want to settle down? how are they at cooking and cleaning?)

the thought of settling down kind of stresses him out at this point in his life

he feels he wants to settle down in the future (like marriage and stuff) but he views that as like... wayyyyyyy into the future. he's not going to rush into something like that

in terms of domestic work, he will always offer and tries to make himself available. he likes going over to your place to just relax and stuff but when he sees you doing chores around the house there's no way he's gonna let you do that alone??

e = ending (if they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

he's so anxious about it

like he's literally a heated mess, he doesn't know what to do with himself

has a whole crisis thinking about it, and loses a lot of sleep

he ends up phoning you at like 2am. you here his voice break in the other side as he starts crying, telling you it's over and (depending on the situation) apologising profusely

f = fiance(e) (how do they feel about commitment? how quick would they want to get married?)

you seeeee

i persoanlly don't see han as a marriage type of guy

don't be me wrong, he is committed. he is loyal to the end, no joke

but marriage isn't really a goal for him. if you suggest it or say you want marriage, he is happy to oblige, of course. but it's not something he is dying to do, you know?

g = gentle (how gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

oh he's soooo gentle, perhaps more so emtoioanlly than anything else

we can tell just by the lyrics to his songs that hannie is very in touch with his own emotions, so relating and empathising with you is very natural for him

he knows very well when he has said something wrong, perhaps thinking before he speaks, because his eyes will grow wide before you even reaction. he'll rub his face and sigh, already apologising and backtracking from what he has said. he's very aware of his words and tries his best not to hurt you

h = hugs (do they like hugs? how often do they do it? what are their hugs like?)

just for the record, han is like a heater. his body is so naturally warm, and paired with the fact that he is the cutest bean on the planet, it's really hard not to hug him

of course he likes hugs. at times he even prefers them to kisses

he just thinks a hug say many things. they can say 'i love you,' 'i'm sorry,' 'i need you,' etc... which is why his go to physical affection is to pull you in for a big old hug <333

i = i love you (how fast do they say the L-word?)

gosh imagine han saying he loves you oh my goshhh

i feel a mental breakdown coming 🚶‍♀️anyways

han will be hesitant when saying that he loves you. he needs to know he can trust you with his feelings, and he needs to know if you're in this for the long-run with him

because he's not going to tell someone he loves them for no reason

he dosn't want to waste his time or feelings

so once he has confirmed you are the one for him, he might say it randomly and suddenly

i can totally see him saying i love you after you guys have been laughing your asses off at a joke you have mad. just seeing you struggling to breath as you cackle with laughter, flushed cheeks and messy hair, he just knows that there is no one else he would rather be with

j = jealousy (how jealous do they get? what do they do when they're jealous?)

sometimes he lacks in confidence in himself so there are occasions when he would get jealous, but it wouldn't be obvious if he was

the majority of time he has trust in his partner and feels there's no reason to be jealous

k = kisses (what are their kisses like? where do they like to kiss you? where do they like to be kissed?)

he likes to attack you by peppering kisses all over your face. he just thinks your reaction is so cute and funny

and he appreciates any kisses you give him. it doesn't matter where you kiss him, he welcomes them all!!

issing you on the lips, han is usually soft and gentle. he almost always smiles into the kiss as he molds his lips into yours i'm actually suffering right now

he's got such funny, goofy energy most of the time but when it comes to kissing he's so soft and sensual and just sinks into a beautiful rhythm

l = little ones (how are they around children?)

he's good with them for the most part, mostly because he mostly tries to entertain them and does random things to make them laugh

and he's good at making them laugh, like he is with everyone! he doesn't view children much different from adults, they just have to be occupied a different way!

m = morning (how are mornings spent with them?)

he's a sleepy bear who just wants to sleep some more :(

will probably grab and grip onto you if you even think about getting a out of bed. not on his watch! you're staying right here in his arms while he uses you as his personal pillow

n = night (how are nights spent with them?)

will stay up all night chatting with you

he works all day and barely gets to see you during the week. and he stays up all night anyways, so he figures it would be even better to spend this time with you

likes to snuggle up with you and watch anime, and he's totally the type to have a big stash of midnight snacks just waiting to be eaten. you guys are gonna have so much fun

o = open (when would they start revealing things about themselves? do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

slowly

he gives off the vibe that he is quite an open person. it's the way he presents himself: quite confident, carefree, casual.

but finding out what he thinks about? his deep thoughts? his past mistakes? yeah, no. that's not going to be very easy access

it will took a lot of time and patience to get to know him in such a personal and intimate way, which will give him a chance to test and see if his partner is actually willing to be patient and kind with him

p = patience (how easily angered are they?)

he was known for being a bit of a hot-head in his debut days

he's cooled down a bit now, for sure. he's matured and become more secure in himself, so he doesn't feel the need to start unnecessary drama

in fact, he actively avoids drama. sure, it's entertaining to watch an argument on a tv show, perhaps. but to actually be a part of it? definitely not good for his anxiety

q = quizzes (how much would they remember about you? do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

he forgets things here and there. he has a bit of a scatter brain, tending to hop from one thing to the next. so it's hard for him to focus on one things or little details, especially since he's a busy man

he tries to put a lot of effort when it comes to you. and he feels so guilty if he forgets an anniversary date, or keeps reminding himself to get a present for your birthday up until the very last minute. some things just fall out of his brain

r = remember (what is their favourite moment in your relationship?)

one time he invited you over to the studio. he was working late that night but he promised himself that he would spend every night with you. so you happily obliged!

well he was supposed to be working on an their next comeback, and he was going to show off a couple of his new songs he composed

he loved watching your face light up as you compliment his artistry, or how you started doing embarrassingly bad dances to one of his edm songs

he just values your positivity and support so much <3

s = security (how protective are they? how would they protect you? how would they like to be protected?)

protective in the sense that he doesn't want you to get hurt

but other than that, he's pretty chill. he doesn't feel the need to be on guard and protect you at all times because you are your own person. and he expects you to treat him as such

you both will protect each other and have each others back when something serious has happened

t = try (how much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

not too much effort to be honest

he likes sharing the casual, mundane things in his life with you. you make those normal bits of his life special, that's why he appreciates you so much. that's why he doesn't feel the need to go all glitz and glam, becaus eh doesn't have that some expectation of you

on anniversaries though, he will try do something a little different. a bit more special. he will rack his brain trying to find the perfect present for you, mostly something that you have wanted for a long time

u = ugly (what would be some bad habits of theirs?)

because he likes to avoid any drama or heated discussions, it can be hard to reason with him at times

if you want to confront him about a certain issue or try and explain yourself to him in and argument, he is usually quite dismissive or likes to defuse the conversation, shrugging and saying "it's not that big of a deal"

v = vanity (how concerned are they with their looks?)

hey

you can't spell handsome without 'han'

he knows he's gorgeous as hell so he's not too concerned about what he looks like

he takes pride in his appearance but usually prefers to wear cosy, baggy casual clothes, which he looks good in either way

w = whole (would they feel incomplete without you?)

if he has grown with you as a person, and if you have stuck with him through thick and thin, i would say, yes

but this feeling would only grow over a long period of time. this type of thing doesn't happen overnight for him

x = xtra (a random headcanon for them)

we know hannie can be quite random at times

so he likes doing random stuff with you! like going on long, midnight drives leading to nowhere. or befriending strangers together like its the most normal thing in the world

he falls in love with how much you match his random spurts of energy and follow on with his creative mischief

y = yuck (what are some things they wouldn't like, either in general or in a partner?)

han doesn't like people who take life too seriously. he knows from his own experience that it is very, very easy to get down about things and become cynical about life

and everyone has days where they feel like that

han just chooses not to hang out with people like that. they just drain his energy. he needs soemone who can lift his spirits, match his energy, and just want to have a good time, despite life's hardships

z = zzz (what is a sleep habits of theirs?)

he will fall asleep randomly, anywhere at anytime

if he has a comfy surface for his head, there's nothing really stopping him from drifting off

and with the amount of sleep he misses, who can blame him?

#han #han jisung #kpop #requested #stray kids #stray kids reactions #stray kids imagines #stray kids scenarios #stray kids fluff #sfw #sfw headcanons #sfw alphabet #skz headcanons #skz #skz scenarios #skz imagines #skz fluff #skz x reader #stray kids x reader #kpop imagines #kpop scenarios #kpop fluff #kpop x reader

[paralyze-fic]

Paralyze.

Chapter 17

We all started to run back to the bus, but Pixie Bob made the earth shake and shift, making us all fall down the cliff. My fall wasn't as hard as I thought but the rest was groaning and rubbing their bodies in pain. Mineta took off running with his hand on his crotch, and I remembered him saying something about having to go to the bathroom.

But a loud roar made us tense. A big beast appeared in front of the tiny grape boy. Koda ran up to it yelling, but it didn't work, the animal wasn't obeying his words.

Then Izuku said something about them being made out of dirt, so I scoffed loudly. Great for me.

"Oi, asshole." I turned to look at Bakugou, who was staring at me with a frown on his face. "You can use me."

Blink... blink... blink blink blink.

Nosebleed.

"Shit," I turned my head away from him at the misinterpretation of his words. That sounded too sexy, fuck, I have issues.

"Huh? What the fuck are you on about?" Bakugou dragged me to him and charged at one of the dirt beasts. "Use me!"

After I swallowed my spit, I kept my eyes on his left arm, activating my quirk and stopping his muscles, then enhanced my own arm.

This was going to be a hard task.

//////

Slowly, panting and worn out, we all walked towards where we could see the building we were staying in. Mandalay, Pixie Bob and Aizawa were here... also that little kid again. The grumpy look on his face reminded me of someone.

I wonder who... my eyes moved to my right, where Bakugou was walking and I snickered at my own thought. He looked at me with an annoyed face.

"How can you laugh? Aren't you tired?" I sighed and my shoulders dropped.

"I'm so tired I'm about to die, but I still have my humour, Bakuboy." He growled at me and walked faster.

"Don't call me that, shithead."

A growl of my own resonated inside my chest, how dare he? He's the one giving us all shitty nicknames.

"What do you mean three?!" I heard somebody exclaim, most likely recalling the woman's words.

"That's the time it would have taken us. I'm sorry." Mandalay explained.

"So you just wanted to show off how good you are? That's mean." Sato replied.

"I'm hungry! I'm dying!" And now Kirishima yelled still sitting on the ground.

"But honestly, we thought it would take you all longer. You didn't have as many problems with my dirt beasts. Especially... you five over there." Pixie Bob pointed at us five; Iida, Midoriya, Bakugou, Todoroki and I. "You could attack thanks to your experience?" Pixie Bob licked her lips. She jumped at us pursing her lips and yelling something about how she was going to wait for us to graduate to marry us. I slowly backed away from her, and Izuku was gonna say something related to age, but the blonde woman rested her paw on his face, threateningly saying 'What about it?'

That was when Izuku mentioned the little boy standing beside Mandalay, who introduced him to us.

"Oh, he's my cousin's son. Come on, Kota. Greet them. You'll be with them for a week." Well, Izuku walked up to him introducing himself, but Kota punched his balls.

The sight made me flinch and instinctively, hide my dick with my hands. "That hurts..." I mumbled to myself, as Iida ran up to poor Midoriya who had gone a pale white colour, and yelled at Kota.

"Midoriya-kun! Savage kid! How dare you do that to Midoriya's scrotum?!" Iida's voice made me stiff a chuckle and I decided to walk up to the poor male in pain to help him. I used to my advantage Bakugou's yelling at Todoroki, because he wouldn't have let me go.

"You okay, Izuku? Let me help you." I picked him up bridal style and he curled up against me, whimpering in pain. "Let's get you an ice pack, alright?" He nodded and kept his eyes closed shut, hiding on my chest.

"Eh?! Where did that fucker go?! (L/N)! Get back here, bitch!" I growled at Bakugou's screaming and glanced at him over my shoulder.

"I'm not your dog, hedgehog! I can go wherever I want!" He turned to stare at me, and I swear, I saw fire in his eyes. He was stomping towards us, but I just kept on walking. "I'm gonna be with Izuku for a while, go with Eijiro or someone else." I went inside the building, and set Izuku down on a nearby couch, stepping off to get an ice pack.

While looking for it, my mind was racing. Thinking back to lots of moments I had spent with Katsuki.

I have to distance myself a bit, otherwise, I would end up really hurt.

I grabbed the ice pack once I found it closed the fridge, walked out of the kitchen and made my way to Izuku, he was still in pain as I handed him the ice and everybody started walking inside.

It has been a while since I've talked to the boy so I thought I could take this opportunity to do it. I sat down by his side.

"How've you been Deku? We haven't talked in a while." He chuckled and let the ice rest on his crotch.

"I've been fine, and if we didn't talk was because of Kacchan," I laugh with a nod.

We talked for a while, and I also told him about all those fights I've had against Bakugou, he seemed surprised to hear that every time we fought, I won.

"I'm surprised that he still talks to you, usually he hates those who win against him," I sweatdropped at his statement and looked down.

"He tells me he hates me at least twice a day, though, so I guess he does." The smile on my face was a fake one, I was hurt at the mere thought of Bakugou hating me. Izuku seemed nervous and tried to fix what he said.

"No, that's not what I..." he stopped and relaxed after some seconds in silence, and I looked at him. "He seems comfortable around you, and since you two met he had been yelling less at me and also seemed less angry." My cheeks heated up a bit.

"He seems the same to me," he chuckled and shrugged.

"Well, I've known him since we were kids, so I noticed the change in his behaviour." Izuku looked at me in the eyes and smiled brightly at me, "Thank you, (M/n), for being a good friend to Kacchan."

//////

Now, after we ate dinner, here we were.

All the boys were at the hot springs, and I was freaking out.

Why! Can't I just take a normal shower and go to bed?! I don't want to be there, in that pool, naked, with everybody around me! I'm shy!

My eyes were staring down at the cold floor underneath my feet, hearing everyone chatting and walking to the hot water. At the moment, my mind wasn't functioning properly.

"(M/n)-kun, are you okay?" Izuku's voice made me flinch and stare at him, only for me to cover half my face and look away. He's so close.

"Uh- eh, no, actually I..." I hunched over my body by my waist, making my voice groggy, "I feel a bit nauseous, maybe it was something I ate. I'll go to sleep early." I turned around, ready to leave, when I felt a hand on my back, rubbing it softly.

"Really? You want me to take you to the room?" Frantically, I shook my head and moved my hand away to smile reassuringly at him.

"I can go on my own, you go and enjoy the hot spring." He seemed unsure but nodded nonetheless.

"Call me if you need something," I hummed an affirmative 'huh uh' and walked out.

The very moment the door closed behind me, my body leaned on the wall beside it, a relieved sigh leaving my lips.

I'll have to bathe at some point, right? Just not now, and not with all the boys here.

With that thought, I walked to the big bedroom all the boys were sharing, changed into my sleeping wear and plumped down on my futon, closing my eyes and drifting off into a deep slumber.

#paralyze fic #bakugou katsuki fanfic #bakugou x male #bakugou x male reader #male reader #reader insert #x reader

[kerrysdreamcorner]

𝐘𝐨𝐮’𝐫𝐞 𝐍𝐨𝐭 𝐌𝐲 𝐓𝐲𝐩𝐞

A Love and Deepspace Fan-Fiction

Ⓢⓤⓜⓜⓐⓡⓨ

An innocent game of kitty cards brings out the fiery friendship of two ladies.

𝕎𝕒𝕣𝕟𝕚𝕟𝕘𝕤: Cussing, humour

Milan “Millie” is an OC belonging to one of my good friends @goat-mama-breezie

Inspired by an audio clip from The Basement Yard Podcast

“With all due respect, I love you-”

Millie glared at me over her hand of cards, the tiny kittens in the teacups meowing happily despite her expression. “Don’t you dare say what you’re about to say.”

I placed a green card with a value of 4 into an empty green teacup, watching the card turn into a kitten. “You know you’re not my type, girl.”

“Well you’re not my type either, bitch.” She fired back without hesitation.

I sensed Xavier stiffen in the booth next to me. Rafayel, who was sitting across from my boyfriend and next to Millie, widened his eyes a little. I witnessed the look they shared in my peripheral, as if silently communicating whether or not to jump in.

This was our first double date. Maybe we should have warned them what our friendship was like beforehand.

I flinched at Millie’s words, but not because my feelings were hurt. I flinched from the sheer audacity. “How the fuck am I not your type?”

Millie raised a single brow at me. “Cuz I like ‘em a little more creative than you.”

“I’m creative.”

“No you’re not.”

“I’m very creative.”

She gave me the most deadpanned expression I’ve ever seen. “Miss girl, look at you.” She gestures towards my all black, gothic grunge style clothing. “You’re not creative.”

A vein in my temple throbbed. “Have you forgotten all the backhanded compliments I used to dish out to the assholes in hunters academy?”

Millie waved me off. “That’s not creative, that’s just playing mind games. I don’t like that.”

I shrugged a shoulder. “Coming up with mind twisters is a very creative thing to do.”

“No-” She dropped her head. I could tell by the shake of her shoulders that she was fighting off a laugh. “You don’t even want me!”

“I don’t.” I jutted my thumb at Xavier. “I got my type right here.”

“So then why do you need me to want you?”

“Because I want you to want me.”

Millie and I must have shared a brain cell in that moment, because the next thing out of both our mouths was-

“Girl, you’re the one I want to want me~ And if you want me, girl, you got me~ There’s nothing I, no, I wouldn’t do, just to get up next to you~”

Rafayel groaned and threw down his cards. He and Xavier must have finished their game while Millie and I were in the middle of our squabble. “Are you two going to finish your game, or are we going to have to sit here surrounded by cats all night?”

Xavier smiled softly and rubbed my back. “The sooner you finish this round, the sooner we can go home and sleep.”

I huffed at the thought of sleep, but his hand moving up and down my back was warm and soothing. “What do you mean ‘we’?”

Millie checked the time on her phone. “They’re right, the café is gonna close soon. Whose turn was it again?”

“Uhhhhh… yours, I think?”

“Cool.” Faster then I could blink, she used an assist card to demolish one of my kitties, played another that allowed her to place two kitties, and wrapped up the game. “I win.”

“Ah, fuck.”

#x oc #love and deepspace #lnds xavier #lnds rafayel #lnds #lnd rafayel #lnd xavier

[gwaeddblaidd]

First time answering a @writing-wednesday question:

Share a snippet from one of your favorite dialogue scenes you’ve written and explain why you’re proud of it.

It's a longer excerpt, hence the cut, but due to the way I write it's hard to share a short dialogue excerpt. This fic, especially, is very prose-heavy; written in the first-person present tense, a lot of sensory description is used. As a result, dialogue scenes tend to be a lot longer than usual.

I chose this scene because it was the first scene in which I wrote extended dialogue for Wednesday herself. I find that one of the biggest challenges I face when writing fanfiction is getting characters' speech styles right, especially when it comes to characters who have especially distinctive ways of talking.

Wednesday is well-spoken but blunt, and it can be easy to overexaggerate these features. I'm happy with how everything sounds when it comes to the dialogue in this scene; I can imagine the characters actually saying the words, without it sounding like a fanfic, if that makes sense.

With all that said, I'm looking forward to answering more questions in the future! I might have to go through the backlog, actually...

Excerpt follows:

---

I awaken with a start, jolting upright with such speed that it feels like I give myself whiplash. My head pounds and my sides ache, but more than anything I’m left with the uncomfortable feeling that I’m forgetting something. I grumble and groan and raise my hand to rub my sore neck, but find myself pausing. My claws are at least half extended and threads of colourful fabric hang from my fingers. I bury my face in my hands; I don’t want to see the damage I’ve done to the bed.

“You whimper in your sleep,” a voice from across the room says, “like a kicked puppy.”

The voice makes me jump and my body tenses up. I slowly turn to my left, my hands sheepishly falling from my face and revealing my shame. My eyes open tentatively and settle on those of Wednesday Addams, standing next to her desk with arms crossed in front of her. Her cold gaze forces me to break eye contact after but a moment, my groggy mind lacking the conviction to challenge her. I realise I have yet to respond. “Wednesday… Hi.”

I avoid looking her directly in the eyes, but her gaze is unflinching. She says nothing, verbally or otherwise. I pick threads of cotton and fleece from my claws, assessing the damage to the lightly shredded blankets around me. My shoulders drop, signalling my embarrassment.

“Oh please, I’ve seen worse,” Wednesday says, breaking her silence but not her stare. “Your claws must be rather dull compared to Enid’s.”

I read no humour in her voice, but the comment brings a smirk to my face. “Got lucky with at least something, I guess.”

She cocks an eyebrow at that - she doesn’t seem to agree. “Lucky? Your natural weapons are fundamentally flawed and you consider yourself lucky?”

“Yeah, well anything that makes it that little bit harder for me to kill someone…” I trail off; that was perhaps a bit much. If Wednesday notices my oversharing, she doesn’t make it known. “Sorry, what time is it?” I ask, swinging my legs over the side of the bed to sit up properly.

“It’s a little past three. You slept for some fifteen hours by my count, but I didn’t have the heart to wake you.” The slightest hint of a smirk emerges on her face. “You appeared to be having such awful dreams. I would’ve hated to interrupt.”

“Oh, you could tell?” I ask jokingly as I tend to my still-aching neck. I’ve been told enough times by my roommate that I’m quite the emotive sleeper. “So, where’s Enid?”

“At one of her many clubs, I’m sure.” A disdainful look flashes on her face. “Forgive me if I don’t know which.”

I crane forwards and with some light pressure on my neck I hear a crack, followed by some of the tension being relieved. When I look up again I notice that something about Wednesday’s stare has changed. Her eyes are a little narrower, her lips are slightly pursed and she’s standing more rigidly than before, if that’s even possible. She has something she wants to say but is holding back. My perceptive prowess can’t compare to hers, however, and in the time it takes me to read her body language she notices the change in my own. Her face relaxes.

“This question may seem… invasive,” she says, taking a small step towards me, “but know that it comes from a place of genuine interest.”

It’s my turn to cock an eyebrow. “Shoot.”

“Your nightmares. What are they about?” She pauses, her eyes not quite focused on me, as if she’s visualising something. “Enid’s been getting nightmares ever since she wolfed out; is it just a werewolf thing? Are all of you destined to be such tortured souls?”

I consider the question for a moment. “I’m no expert, but we do tend to be pretty vivid dreamers. Add a serving of trauma to that and I guess it’s no wonder you’d end up with nightmares.”

“The trauma of wolfing out for the first time, for example?”

“For some, sure. It can be hard for some wolves, especially if they end up hurting someone. The guilt, the loss of control…” Am I getting too personal? “It’s a bit of a rude awakening, learning what it truly means to be a wolf.”

“Speaking from experience?” she asks, her head tilting a little to the side.

“Nah, I was a bit of an early bloomer. I barely remember my first time,” I admit, a half-truth at best and a lie by omission at worst. My first time was easy. My parents were well prepared; they made sure I was safe and couldn’t get anyone hurt. The revelation of what wolfhood entails though? That came later. I was sheltered for so many years. Hell, I didn’t even really know what I was until I met wolves from other packs and realised just how different I was. The end of my childhood wasn’t marked by something as simple as wolfing out for the first time. No, the day I learned exactly how much violence I was capable of, what sort of cruelty I could enact on others… that was my wakeup call.

“You didn’t answer my first question,” Wednesday says, forcing me out of my reminiscence. “Your nightmares. If they don’t stem from your wolfing out, where do they come from?”

I guess it’s time to make my boundaries known. I notice myself shuffling uncomfortably as I speak. “Sorry, that’s a bit personal, even for me.”

She doesn’t try to hide her disappointment. “A pity,” she says, turning away. She sits down and moves her typewriter to the middle of her desk, apparently finished with the conversation. I do feel a little bad. I’m under no obligation to share my insecurities, but at the same time I do feel as if I owe her something . Considering her reputation, she’s been surprisingly welcoming to my intruding on her personal space. What harm could it do to let down my walls a little?

“They’re about my parents,” I relent. She doesn’t turn around but her hands stop moving; that got her attention. “They were good people. Or, my mom was, at least. They… they didn’t deserve what happened to them.”

She spins around in her chair. “What did happen to them?”

“They’re gone.”

“I gathered. There’s more to the story than that though, surely?”

I chuckle. “Well, yes, of course. But the details aren’t exactly pleasant.”

Her arms cross once again. “I didn’t ask for ‘pleasant’.”

“My benefit, not yours. I relive it enough in my sleep; if I started spending my time awake thinking about it I’d never get anything done.” In truth, it’s less the memories themselves that bother me so, but rather the implications. If I shared the whole story with her… it wouldn’t take her long to figure it out. Being unable to share too much lest other people piece together the truth… It’s tiring, and serves only to isolate me from my peers. An unfortunate measure, but a necessary one. “Why so interested in my nightmares, anyway?”

Wednesday glares for a few seconds, but then her demeanour softens. As I suspected, she can appreciate a transactional interaction. I offered her some information, with the potential prospect of more, and so it’s in her best interest to respond in kind. She speaks slowly now, clearly choosing her words carefully and betraying her vulnerability. 

“Like I said, Enid’s been having nightmares most nights since wolfing out. It’s starting to impact her day-to-day life. Nightmares have never really been an issue for me, so I thought that perhaps consulting another werewolf might give me some insight on how I might help her.”

I was expecting a far more morbid reason for her curiosity. “That’s actually kind of sweet.”

“Yes, well…” She stiffens again. “Breathe a word of that sentiment to anyone and you’ll have bigger problems than mere nightmares.”

“My lips are sealed.”

#weekly writing wondering #writing wednesday #fandom #writing #fanfic writing

[watching-pictures-move]

Movie Review | Murphy's Law (Thompson, 1986)

This review contains mild spoilers.

The title makes more sense when you remember that Golan and Globus had a habit of selling movies to distributors based on a cool title and poster and worrying about things like the actual premise and plot and other inconsequential details later. Because the movie as is has little to do with the concept of Murphy’s Law, except for the hero to clarify that the only Murphy’s Law he’s familiar with is the one that concerns him, his name being Jack Murphy. His version of the rule is very simple. “Don’t fuck with Jack Murphy.” This line resonated with me for two reasons. One, I once had a co-worker who frequently touted Murphy’s Law but clearly didn’t know what it was. He was also not, how you say, a top performer, and was an asshole to boot, so his misinterpretation of the law was merely one of several strikes against him. Two, the line is said by Charles Bronson in that classic Charles Bronson voice.

This is a mid-‘80s Charles Bronson vehicle directed by J. Lee Thompson, meaning that’s it’s sturdier than the ones directed by Michael Winner while offering similarly lizard-brained thrills. The premise here concerns Bronson being targeted for revenge by a serial killer he put away years ago and having to team up with a snot nosed teenage punk he finds himself attached to, somewhat literally, while generally pissing off the mob. Bronson and Thompson did a few collaborations in between that hit other notes, but this feels like a halfway point between 10 to Midnight and Kinjite: Forbidden Subjects, merging the serial killer plot of the former with the bifurcated structure of the latter. It is nowhere near as sleazy as either movie, as the murders here lack the ugly, sexualized dimensions of the former and doesn’t rub your face in the muck like the latter. It does share with those movies a queasy fascination with and contempt for what I suspect the filmmakers viewed as “aberrant” sexuality (which I suspect includes everything outside of missionary with the lights off and Bronson avoiding post-coital conversation so he go grab something from the fridge after). Bronson broods over the fact that his wife has become a stripper, and characters regularly trade homophobic insults. In addition to that, the only cop on the force who seems interested in holding Bronson accountable when he’s accused of murder turns out to be crooked. So there is something of a worldview running through these movies, one which might inspire a voting record that differs from mine.

I do think the movie is pretty engaging on the whole, as it finds ways to prod Bronson’s steeliness and even afford him some humour. Much of this comes from pairing him with Kathleen Wilhoite as a spunky teenaged car thief, who brings her usual charisma and does a great job of getting on his nerves but not necessarily ours, and aside from some unfortunate homophobia, has dialogue that evokes the kind of words a child uses before they’ve discovered actual cursing. (The most explicit phrases she uses are “jism breath” and “scrotum cheeks”.) And some of this comes from pitting him against a serial killer played with pleasing derangement by Carrie Snodgress, whose methods and meticulousness pose a genuine challenge for the more conventionally minded Bronson. And I think Thompson directs this with a certain assurance, and gets a good deal of suspense from the climax, a two-tiered stalk-and-slash style sequence that plays like if you mashed two slashers on top of each other and added firearms to boot.

#film #movie review #murphy's law #j. lee thompson

[thatgrumpybxtch]

I posted 55 times in 2022

53 posts created (96%)

2 posts reblogged (4%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@writing-prompt-s

@nottamoviestar

I tagged 53 of my posts in 2022

Only 4% of my posts had no tags

#stranger things x reader - 11 posts

#stranger things headcanons - 10 posts

#not a matchup - 8 posts

#stranger things hcs - 8 posts

#not a request - 8 posts

#st x reader - 8 posts

#matchup - 8 posts

#twilight x reader - 7 posts

#eleven x sister!reader - 7 posts

#eleven x reader - 7 posts

Longest Tag: 91 characters

#i found this huge spider on the wall just before i did this request and threw my shoe at it

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

Okay so I’ve had this in my head for quite a while and idk how to really put it.. so gothic bimbo reader x Jasper hale but she’s gen z and has gen z humour etc. and any time he says something like serious and meaningful she’s all like “ew stop lol” and just brushes it off.. idk how you would write that or what u would write but pleassseeee I’m begging make it work😭 thank u <3

omg, I absolutely LOVE this idea!!

First off, he loves your sense of style. It's refreshing to see humans who are willing to be themselves and dress differently

Plus, the style would be so fitting if you ever became a vampire

Also, he is sooo confused by gen z humor, he's an old man at heart and just doesn't understand it

So he literally has to either ask you what you're saying or ask Alice or Edward

Explaining your humor to him takes forever, cause he just is so confused and caught off guard by all this new slang of yours

He also thinks you're being completely serious when you tell him to "stop" or "shut up" after he compliments you or says something sweet

But then he picks up on your emotions, and you seem to like him saying things like that?? So he just keeps complimenting you anyway lol

Overtime he begins to understand the modern slang and jokes you use and may even try to use it himself, but it just sounds so awkward coming from him

423 notes - Posted August 7, 2022

#4

Can you write me some Sebastian (stardew valley) x reader fluff? Sebastian is my little emo boy and I love him.

Of course, I love that emo boy!! Thanks for the request, I don't get many stardew requests so I get excited when I do get them

While it's no surprise that Sebastian isn't a big fan of PDA, he will do hand-holding and short but warm hugs

On his bad days or in the mornings, he just wants to lay in bed and hold you

Playing at the pool table in the saloon together and losing

He loves seeing you wear his hoodie, plus it is so comfy and smells just like him

Handing him the tools he needs when he works on his motorcycle

He even teaches you a bit about working on bikes/cars if you'll let him

Going out for walks on rainy days, holding hands and sharing an umbrella as you do

Catching frogs together!! he will tease you if you don't like touching the frogs tho

He has such comforting hugs, it feels so safe, warm, and loving

Sitting in his lap and cuddling while he works on his computer

Helping each other take care of yourselves properly on each other's bad days <3

Making and eating sashimi together and somehow making a mess in the process

I feel like he loves holding your hand and rubbing his thumb on the side of your hand while holding it

602 notes - Posted July 4, 2022

#3

Hello! Can i request some headcannons or scenarios of Tsu’tey from Avatar (2009)? Like maybe him meeting dreamwalker!reader in their human body for the first time? Hope you have a wonderful day.

Ofc!! I hope you're having an amazing day too

It's so nerve-wracking, sure he's seen you're Avatar body but not your human body, in some way it makes you feel anxious and self-conscious

Of course, you knew Tsu'tey loved you either way. Dreamwalker or not, he knows you, even if he was suspicious of you at first

You were getting ready to transfer yourself into your Avatar permanently, Tsu'tey was obviously your escort

Seeing him in your human form for the first time was like seeing him for the first time

He looked intimidating, he was twice your size in height and naturally built

It did take him a moment to realize it was you since you did look much different from your Avatar form, but it was like he could still sense that it was you

Of course, he treats you exactly the same with the exception of a few comments on how small or weak you look

But I promise he means nothing by it, he just wants to tease you a bit while he has the chance

However, he does treat your body more delicately as if you're glass ready to break if he even looks at you the wrong way

You may have to reassure him that you are stronger than you look and that he doesn't have to be so cautious with you

And if you ask him what he thinks of this form, he will answer honestly. You definitely look different, maybe even a bit odd. But, you still are, and forever will be, beautiful to him no matter what you look like

603 notes - Posted August 7, 2022

#2

Hello! In back wishing to get more twilight Cullen clan Hc 🤲 please

Could I ask for a s/o that has uncontrollable actions or sounds when excited and at some point, they are so happy to see them that this happens; "I so happy you're ba- *kiss* -back, sorry"

💘 thank you

Carlisle and Esme Cullen:

They are caught so off guard but in the best way possible

Esme is so flustered and blushing if she even can blush?

Stuttering and stammering over her words

Carlisle is also flustered but hides it much better

He just mainly laughs it off but you can tell that he is so flattered

Alice Cullen and Jasper Hale:

I feel like Alice probably does things like this too!

She absolutely loves it when you do it tho

She knows it just means you love her and missed her so much and it melts her heart

Jasper also loves it but is more laid back about it

It makes him so happy to know you care so much about him

Emmett Cullen and Rosalie Hale:

Emmett immediate embraces this quirk of yours

He may even do the same thing to you sometimes!

He just really loves being shown affection, especially from you

I think Rosalie might be a little stiff and caught off guard the first few times

That doesn't mean she doesn't like it! It was just unexpected

But she does get used to it quickly, you can tell just by how she seems to melt into the kiss after the first few times

Edward Cullen:

The first few times he's a little iffy about it, especially if you're human

He's just scared of losing control and hurting you

But over time he learns how to use his strength around you and how much you can take

After that, he's so much more open to it

He does love it more than he'll admit

676 notes - Posted June 24, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Could I get HC for Cullen Clan with a s/o that squeaks when they're really happy?

Of course, thank you for the request!! I also hope you don't mind that I grouped the Cullen pairs together. Anyways, I hope you enjoy it!

Carlisle and Esme Cullen:

Both Carlisle and Esme find it absolutely adorable

However, it does catch them way off guard the first time you do it around them

They may make an odd face or raise an eyebrow but choose not to question it and become used to it over time

But they still find it so cute every single time

Alice Cullen and Jasper Hale:

You most likely reacted this way after getting a gift or surprise from Alice

Alice doesn't even bat an eye at your squeals and takes it as a major compliment

Jasper would have an amused yet pleasantly surprised smile

Emmett Cullen and Rosalie Hale:

Emmett definitely says something along the lines of "The hell was that?"

Either that or he teases you about it, but it's all in good fun

He only teases you because your squeals were cute to him

Rosalie makes an unmistakable confused face but won't say anything about it at the moment and will question you about it later on

Rose also finds it adorable but she'll never admit that out loud

Edward Cullen:

He sees it as just another one of your quirks that make you even more lovable

He'll give one of his adoring smiles and maybe a little laugh

He never gets tired of it and may give a little gift or surprise you with something just to hear it

1,123 notes - Posted May 18, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#tumblr2022 #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review

[grimsneverendingfuneral]

Would you say you're a confident person, Grim??? You seem really confident. I wanna message you off anon but I'm a bit intimidated tbh LOL

oh man this question is always hard to answer for me fr. i have no idea anon, truly. i think it ebbs and blows, the confidence. like i've always had this kind of natural well of bravado i could just dip into, but then again, i dont think confidence and self esteem always go hand in hand. i have very low ass moments, and ive lived my life through the lens of self hatred like you would not believe, and its taken me a lot of time alone to train my brain into being confident, and not necessarily in myself, but what i bring to the table. my talents, my sense of humour, my style, stuff thats in my control. to me, thats confidence. self esteem is just the fuckin punisher sitting on a steel throne at the back of my mind, watching my every move, and he's not very nice

but then again, life to me is so absurd, so ridiculously laughable, i tend to just plow through anyway. im a hedonist too so that helps

also, not to be so uhhh fatherly? with you but please dont confuse any online persona with your perception of someone's confidence. its not cool to do to yourself. its so much easier for anyone to be more flashy and unfiltered online in total anonymity than in real life, thats just FACT. which means you can come and talk to me about anything!!! i swear. anything. we're all just trying to grasp for a leg of connection in this cold cold world which unrelentingly rubs salt on our collective isolation wound every minute of every fucking day so yknow. fuck it

like fr i used to be such a lurker online until i made this particular blog and just started bothering EVERYONE in their replies and in their ask boxes lmfao. it doesn't matter what we think, what i think, what anyone thinks of you, be cringe. shoot the part of you that cringes in the fuckin face, thats my advice. ive already made a couple of friends on here that just bring the widest smile to my face and its genuinely brightened that part of my day that was usually spent in static silence aka when i get home from work

just do ittttt you wont regret it. come off anon and just fucking yell at me about your day!!! i'd love to hear about it. we're already friends anyways, to me at least

#anon #kinda went off but that question just fires synapses in my brain that make me want to tell everyone that they deserve to exist boisterously

[puperica1980]

1. How old were you when you had your first kiss? 12

2. How old were you when you had sex for the first time? 15

3. Have you ever walked in on people having sex? Twice

4. Have you ever had phone sex? Three times

5. Have you ever had birthday sex? 4

6. Name a non-pornographic movie that turns you on? None

7. Have you ever used a sex swing? Once

8. Do you own any sex toys? If so, what? 3

9. Have you had a one night stand?5

10. Back rub or foot rub? Back

11. Have you ever had an awkward moment where people were having sex and you were present? None

12. Have you ever swapped partners? No

13. Have you ever experienced DP? No

14. Cuddling on the couch or picnic in the park? Three times

15. Have you ever had sex on the beach?twice

16. Do you like to watch? Yes

17. Ever been filmed or filmed yourself during a sexual act? No

18. Have you ever had sex with someone that you were not suppose to? (Boss, teacher, relative).yes

19. Have you ever had a secret relationship? Yes

20. Are feet a turn on? Yes

21. Have you ever had a long distance relationship? Yes

22. Have you ever met someone in person that you met online? Yes

23. One thing you haven’t done sexually that you are hoping to try. Being walked like a dog

24. Anal or oral? Anal

25. Have you ever been with someone of the same sex? Yes

26. Have you ever masturbated outside the confines of your home? Everyday

27. Drunk sex or stoned sex? No

28. Have you ever slept with an ex while no longer together? No

29. Have you ever accidentally sent a dirty pic or message to the wrong person/people? Once

30. Have you ever had someone show a private pic to others without permission? Yes

31. Does your partner have to be shorter or taller than you? Don't Matter to me

32. Have you ever been with someone that another member of your family has been with? Yes

33. Whip or riding crop? Riding crop

34. Name a song that puts you in the mood.no

35. Have you ever had sex on a plane?no

36. Is there anyone that you’ve slept with that you can’t recall their name? No

37. Have you given or received road head? Want to

38. Would you prefer receiving/giving a titty fuck or foot job? Foot

39. Name a hard limit of yours.blood

40. Sex on the hood of a car or the back of a pick up? No

41. Shower sex or sex in the rain? Yes

42. If you could change one thing about your physical appearance what would it be? Boobs

43. If you could change one thing about your personality what would it be? No

44. Kill one, marry one, fuck one? (Name the three). No

45. Choking or hair pulling? Hair pulling

46. Would you rather? (Name the two). Na

47. True or false? (You pick question).na

48. Bar or club? Club

49. Have you ever had sex in the snow? No

50. Have you ever had sex with a neighbour? (The house on the left or right, not down the street).yes

51. Have you ever had sex at a sports venue? (Football field, rink, etc.).no

52. Have you ever used something outside the norm to orgasm? No

53. Can you recall a time you were cock blocked or twat swatted? No

54. Would you rather play dirty doctor or naughty detention? Dirty doctors

55. What’s sexier nice eyes or nice lips? Eyes

56. What’s more attractive a sense of humour or a sense of style? Humor

57. Ice cubes or wax? Wax

58. Do you prefer a younger or older partner? Don't matter

59. Ball gag or hand over mouth? Hands

60. Have you ever posted a pic or a video of you committing a sexual act? Nope

61. Did your parents have “the sex talk” with you when you were young? If so, which parent? How did it go? No

62. If you had to choose, cowgirl or reverse cowgirl? No

63. Morning sex or afternoon delight? Morning

64. Are you vocal during sex? Yes

65. Your socks, on or off in bed? Off in bed

66. Embarrassing sex moment. Being caught

67. Pillow fight or pillow fort? Pillow fort

68. Naked twister or strip poker? Strip poker

69. Have you ever done a 69? Yes

70. Make you’re own multiple choice question.

[indiatoilet89]

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[simptasia]

i hope The World’s Unfortunate Situation ends soon because robbie fairchild is in desperate need of stage musical to perform in. he’s posted approximately 4 million videos of himself on roofs (probably his roof but it’s funnier to imagine that on any given roof in new york, robbie could be there) moving like a wacky inflatable arm flailing tube man to the worst music i’ve ever heard. but i watch anyways because the movement is sexy and hypnotic. he moves like he’s possessed by every theatre student at once. robbie’s feeling the music like he’s riding the high of thousands of commenters telling him he’s the best performance in cats 2019. and they’re right. he dances like he’s so delirious from all the fucking pollen in his house that his dog is gonna have to learn CPR soon

#yes... i have been binge watching gayle #so the humour style is rubbing off on me #robbie fairchild #the tone of this is comedically aggressive but its actually adoration #i mean the music he dances to isn't my cup of tea but he clearly likes it #anyways i watched a bunch of his dancing videos on his instagram #he's a magnificent dancer i cannot stress that enough. and everything i said in this post is true #he really does move like a wacky inflatable arm flailing tube man #i just wanna say i'd be perfectly comfortable with robbie himself seeing this post

[angelplummie]

Hiii! Could please get his for Ushijima taking care of his sick s/o? Thank youuu ( ◜‿◝ )♡

USHIJIMA TAKING CARE OF YOU WHEN YOU’RE SICK

USHIJIMA X GN!READER

masterlist

a/n: this is very relevant to me bc i have a honking cold rn so what the hell ushi is taking care of me rn ! also sorry if this is total waffle i’m like delirious ill LMAO let’s see how this goes!

warnings: mentions of not eating (not ed related)

• so

• originally, you planned he would never even know u were sick, you didn’t want to worry him

• that went about as well as you would imagine

• there you were chilling in your apartment, under your covers with tissues surrounding you as you scrolled through tik tok

• you see a couple that you want toshi to see, a few cat videos, some chinchillas, a sprinkle of golden retriever puppies, the usual

•you aren’t sure if he really likes the videos, because he only ever replies with a thumbs up emoji, so u can’t tell if he’s just humouring you, but you send them anyway cuz if he doesn’t like them he can just not watch them

• (he does like it actually, he loves when you send him that stuff, thinks the animals are very cute and he likes to know that you think of him when he’s away)

• but there’s a fatal flaw in this cute gesture, he’s not supposed to know that u can b on ur phone rn!!!!!!

• when it gets to his lunch break, he sits on on the bench and sees his phone with a bunch of notifs with you

• he shits himself a little bc he thinks somethings wrong, but then he sees it’s just tik toks he relaxes

• he watches them first (enjoys them greatly might i add), then says ‘thank you for the videos, i was worried that something was wrong when i saw texts from you in the middle of the day :>’

• (oh my GOD my heart de so uses :> :< /:< EEEE i love him so much he’s so cute)

• you reply as soon as you see the message, which makes him suspicious

• ‘aren’t you at work?’

• busted

• there’s no point lying now, so u tell him ur off sick

• he leaves you on read and 45 minutes later, there’s a very tall man at your door

• “Toshi!!! what are you doing here?”

• “why didn’t you tell me you were sick? i would’ve been here earlier. you shouldn’t be alone when your ill y/n it’s not safe”

• you ask him how he managed to get home so fast, which is when you find out he TOLD THE COACH YOU GOT IN A CAR ACCIDENT

• YOURE LIKE HUH?!?!!!? he just shrugs and goes “if i said u were ill it would’ve taken me longer to get here, he might not have let me come at all”

• you’re touched, even if toshi is a little scary in his reasoning

• he places a hand to your forehead gently, frowning when it’s boiling

• “You’re burning up Y/N, you’re lucky I came”

• looks at you worriedly, he says you look ‘pallid’, to which you insist youre fine, it’s just a bad cold

• (he, of course, doesn’t care if it’s a ‘bad cold’ he’s still worried and hates seeing you look so small and weak and tired)

• he asks you what you’ve eaten, thrusts a tangerine in your face when you say nothing

• “you’ve got to eat at least something or else you’ll feel worse”

• he’ll just sit there until you eat it, you’re too weak to protest

• after he feels he’s assessed the situation (medical professional he is) he feels you could handle being moved to the living room to watch a movie

• he’ll carry you bridal style to the living room and plop you down on the sofa, jogging to grab blankets to keep you from getting cold

• he also gets a big bottle of water and places it right next to your head where you lay on the sofa, because of course you hadn’t drunk enough today

• he asks you what you want to watch, and when you say you’re not sure, he tells you the name of ever DVD you own just for you to have the full selection

• you settle on Barbie Rapunzel, and he settles down on the floor in front of the sofa to watch with you

• you don’t like him sitting on the ground, so instead he sits with your legs on his lap, blanket barley covering his knees

• your hand reaches for his, and he takes in warmly, thumb rubbing lovingly on the back of your hand

• all throughout the movie he’s making little comments that make you laugh and force feeding you water at regular intervals too

• as the movie continues, you start to get sleepy, which goes unnoticed by toshi bc he’s actually very invested in the film (marry me)

• when he does notice you’ve fallen asleep, he makes a little ‘oh!’ and turns the sound down a little

• he looks at ur little sleepy face surrounded by covers, you look like a sickly little angel

• he squeezes your hand very gently and whispers “I love you, please get well soon.”

hey guys!!! hope u enjoyed my word vomit about how much i love ushijima, reblogs always appreciated! bye love u bye!!!

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