#irish eyes are smiling

[muirmaiden]

Irish Eyes Are Smiling (1944) Tribute

[poisonsome]

Sarah Bolger 🇮🇪

sarahbolger

[nialljamesxo]

Niall Horan attending the Night of the Zodiac Fashion Show in Milan, Italy on 28/9/2024.

[fallinmyarmsagain]

Happy birthday to this handsome one! 😍🥳❤️🎂🥂🎈🎉✨

My irish dream, I obsessively adore you 

That’s what I do every day 

I wanted to say lovely words to you, to express a little of how important you are to me, since the moment we met you have become part of my heart, I hope you continue to have an incredible life because you deserve so much for being a wonderful man!

I admire you so much and i’m proud of your history as a musician and as the blond boy from Mullingar, I admire your way of being an artist and your way of being just you… I wish I could be more like you. 

I have so much of you in my heart, you’re the thoughts in my mind, I looked into your eyes and found my favorite color, you’re the sound in my ears, hearing your laugh is like hearing my favorite song but a million times better, you’re everything I need, you’re everything I want, you’re everything. 

I promise that I’ll love you for the rest of my life. 

Thank you for existing in this world, you are, and always have been, my dream. 

I love you Niall James, happy birthday!

Love, Mandy xx

[broadway-nepeta]

:33< i happen to know a certain little pupa pan who could use some cheering up! and some reminding of how to bat a frown upside down.

[lyrics (by me~) and full art under cut]

When Bronzeblood eyes are smiling,

Sure it's like twilight in Spring,

In the lilt of Bronzeblood laughter

You can hear the angels sing.

When Bronzeblood hearts are happy,

All the world seems strong and light,

And when Bronzeblood eyes are smiling,

They’ll steal your heart into the night.

There's a tear in your eye and I'm wondering why,

For it never should be there at all;

With such pow'r in your smile, sure a stone you'd beguile,

So there's never a tear-drop should fall;

When your sweet lilting laughter's like some fairy song,

And your eyes twinkle sharp as can be;

You should laugh all the while and all other times, smile,

And now smile a smile for me.

When Bronzeblood eyes are smiling,

Sure it's like twilight in Spring,

In the lilt of Bronzeblood laughter

You can hear the angels sing.

When Bronzeblood hearts are happy,

All the world seems strong and light,

And when Bronzeblood eyes are smiling,

They’ll steal your heart into the night.

[thearcanaofbeingclandestine]

Join me in bed, you won’t regret it

[blackvelveteen1339]

Step on my throat, Murphy 🥵🫦

I want him to curb stomp me

[nialljamesxo]

Niall Horan attending the wedding of Aaron Johnson and Josephine Skriver in Los Cabos, Mexico on 4/13/24 with Dove Cameron as his date ( @famouslydove )

[nialljamesxo]

@scbrinasannlynn

That's that Niall espresso | Bangor

[kitasuno]

dating the love and deepspace boys | domestic moments

featuring: rafayel, xavier, and zayne x gn!reader

(´• ω •`) ♡ modern au! can you guys tell raf is my favorite..?

rafayel

a year younger than you. lies to everyone (including you) that he’s actually two years your senior. you only found out he was younger than you when you met his parents, who have his birth certificate framed. 

hates cats. despises them. they fill him with rage (fear). says he’s allergic (he’s lying).

“oh shit raf, this sucks! i guess you can’t move in with me.. i have cats”

“...you have cats?”

“yeah. 3.”

“i’m not allergic. i can move in tonight.”

chronically online. minoring in marine biology and majoring in annoying you. texts you over 200 times a day and if you don’t respond, he’s faking a horrible chronic illness. again. it’s amnesia on wednesdays, appendicitis on thursdays, chronic migraines on fridays… etc..

he has 2 followers on his private twitter. you and thomas. 

over 700k followers on instagram for some reason? he sells paintings on depop (he says it's depop but you’re convinced he sells them for heinous prices on the black market) 

cooks on occasion? has an apron that says kiss me im irish (he's not irish?) made you a tuna cupcake once?? 

pescatarian. not in the vegan/vegetarian way where he refuses to eat red meat but because he’s absolutely feral over fish. (is this cannibalism? he says its not)

lives in a 2 bedroom apartment with you but doesn’t use his bedroom. says your bed is comfier. turned his bedroom into a painting studio (IT’S for the black market you say!!) and sleeps with you. 

“raf,” you sigh. “don’t you have.. homework or something?” 

he sits between your legs, back against your chest as he scrolls through his phone. 

“yeah,” he says. you flick the back of his head because you know he’s smirking. “it’s called assignment: you. due in two minutes.” 

with his free hand, he reaches back mindlessly to grab yours. you sigh, fingers intertwining with his, a reflex as he leans his head back. his eyes meet yours and you can’t help but laugh. 

“well?” you ask, brushing his hair out of his eyes as he squeezes your hand. “what are the assignment details?” 

he chews on the bottom of his lip as he thinks, humming while his eyes wander across your face. he swings your interlocked hands in circles. it’s raining outside, the heater is on, and rafayel is warm like hot chocolate. 

“what?” he says, his cheeks a tinge pink. “you’re looking at me like that again.” a pause. he turns, his head now buried in your chest.

“just studying my homework.” you say, hands instinctively wrapping around his back. the laundry machine is running in the background, rain is falling against the window, and you faintly hear your rice cooker dinging in the kitchen. home, you think, is with rafayel.

“i can hear your heartbeat.” he says, voice muffled. “it’s super fast. you like me or something?” 

“i really like you.” you say, without skipping a beat. rafayel groans into your chest, sighing in discontent. 

“no fair. i’m supposed to be the flirter.” 

you press a kiss onto the top of his head and you feel his body melt into yours. the two of you fall into a warm silence, his breath steady as he traces paintings into your neck. 

“raf?” you mumble, eyes drooping. he hums in response. “did you pass your assignment?” 

he smiles. “with flying colors.” 

xavier

chronic napper. (yapper?) 

has 100 late assignments. failing all of his classes yet got into the top university in your country because he got a perfect score on his entrance exams. you thought he was a nepo baby (turns out he’s just.. smart?)

his procrastination rubs off on you… he is the WORST distraction and he knows it. so smug about it and uses it to his own advantage. will perch on top of you when you’re studying and kiss down your neck until you go to sleep with him. 

lives in the apartment on top of yours but is at your house most days, if not all. you ask him to move in.

“am i not already.. living with you?” 

“don’t you still have your apartment, though?”

“yeah..?”

 is that good for the economy?? is it financially smart? not at all, but he’s too lazy to move out and put his apartment up for lease. 

xavier sleeps with his legs entangled with yours and his arms wrapped tightly around your chest. the air conditioning hums in the background as you scroll mindlessly on your phone, dimming the brightness as you hear xavier stir. 

“sorry xav, did i wake you up?” you ask. he doesn’t respond, blinking the sleep out of his eyes as he glares at your phone. 

“xavier?” you question, swallowing a laugh at his ruffled hair and disheveled clothes. 

“phone down.” he says, voice raspy with sleep and an octave lower than usual. you raise an eyebrow at him. 

“can i get a pretty please in this economy?” 

xavier’s eyes narrow as he snatches your phone away, snoozing the device and placing it on the nightstand next to you. his lips ghost your neck, pressing kisses against your skin as he mumbles incoherently in the dark of your bedroom. 

“xavier-” you breathe, giggling at the sensation. “that tickles!” 

he nips at your neck. 

“bedtime. now.” 

zayne

3 years older than you 

he literally has his whole life together at 27 which scares you so much

“my credit card is your credit card” typa boyfriend

cooks. cleans. has a 9-5. you’re interning at the hospital that he works at (he’s head doctor!!)

you’re just a sweet little intern and zayne is the big bad monster!! everyone at work thinks he hates you because he’s extra strict on you. doesn’t give you any special treatment, ‘ignores’ you most days (but also slips meals into your locker and hands you heat packs on cold days in the hospital)

no one knows he’s dating you until one day someone sees you leaving in zaynes car. 

“oh, you carpool with doctor zayne?”

“huh? no, we live together.”

“you WHAT???”

he’s a virgo……. erm……

the two of you get ready together in the morning. his guard is down when he’s sleepy and he’ll cling to you as he brushes his teeth and does his hair.

you wake up to the cold night breeze, blinking the sleep out of your eyes and shivering as you scan your surroundings. you yelp as you meet the attentive gaze of your boyfriend. 

“huh? whuh? huh?” you splutter, squirming as zayne holds you tighter. he’s carrying you bridal style in his arms, his jacket around your shoulders as the two of you walk to his car. you see the bright lights of akso hospital fading away behind the two of you. 

“it’s two am,” he says calmly, placing you down gently as he opens your car door for you. “you waited for my shift to end. again.” 

you smile bashfully, rubbing the back of your head. “well, i didn’t wanna just leave you!” 

zayne clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth, eyebrows furrowed but gaze warm. he guides you into your seat, clicking your seatbelt in place. 

“you can nap on the way home,” he says, closing the door and sliding into his side of the car. 

the heater’s on already- courtesy of his super expensive electric car. he fastens his own seatbelt and hands you a hot tea and bread from the hospital vending machine. 

“drink up. doctor’s orders.” 

you grin before he leans over to press a kiss on your lips. 

“thank you for waiting for me.”

[music-online]

Where can I find the lyrics and chords for "When Irish Eyes Are Smiling" on guitar?

You can easily find the lyrics and chords for the classic Irish folk song "When Irish Eyes Are Smiling." This timeless tune is a favorite among guitar players and is a great choice for beginners who are looking to learn how to play traditional Irish music.

To play "When Irish Eyes Are Smiling" on guitar, you'll need to know a few basic chords, including G, C, D, and Em. The song's simple, repetitive chord progression makes it easy for beginners to pick up, and the catchy melody is sure to have you humming along in no time.

At Find the Best Online Music Courses & Tutorials - Musiec, you'll find detailed chord charts and tablature for "When Irish Eyes Are Smiling," as well as instructional videos and helpful tips to help you master the song. Whether you're looking to play it solo or as part of a group, Musiec has all the resources you need to bring this beloved Irish tune to life on your guitar.

So, grab your guitar and start practicing those chords – before you know it, you'll be playing "When Irish Eyes Are Smiling" like a pro and impressing your friends and family with your newfound musical skills.

[thearcanaofbeingclandestine]

Superman but the S stands for shame

[socially-awkward-skeleton]

2. Who wakes up early/Who sleeps in late?

3. What was their first impression of each other?

4. Who initiates affection? Why does the other not initiate affection as much?

for Siobhan and Samuel.

Thank you Goose!!!

2. Siobhan is usually the one to get up early, she likes to not have to rush the start of her day and if that means she has to wake up a little earlier to do so than so be it (especially since it means she's usually going to be in a better mood)

Sam absolutely sleeps in late. The day doesn't start for him until 8 am at the earliest, and even then it's a struggle for him to get out of bed.

3. Hated each other. She looked at him with the European mindset of "more bloody Americans I have to contend with," not to mention the fact that he doesn't take much seriously, and she started out less than pleased with her new coworker. Sam saw her as some stuffy academic with a stick up her ass that took things too seriously.

4. Sam usually initiates more of the physical affection, he's prone to just wrap his arms around her waist, or kiss her in the spur of the moment. Sia tends to show her affection through things like cooking for him, or making sure he remembers important things. I don't think either one is less affectionate than the other they just have different ways of showing it in most cases.

[violentdelightsandviolentends]

Forbidden Fruit.

That’s the thing about Declan - he always gets what he wants. It might be wrong… but it feels so right.

declan o’hara x female reader

warnings - smut. cursing. use of the c word. age gap. cheating. declan’s filthy mouth needs its own warning.

word count - 2.3k

authors note - that man is a munch and I cannot be convinced otherwise. my crush on aidan turner has returned tenfold and i’m about to make it everyone’s problem. read declan’s dialogue in that gorgeous irish accent of his for the full experience.

masterlist. inbox.

You’ve fake laughed so much this afternoon that you can’t remember what your real one sounds like.

Finally breaking away from a conversation with Freddie’s wife, you swan across the garden in your sundress towards the food and drink table. You absentmindedly pick at the strawberries, hoping and praying that no one bothers you for a moment. All you need is a minute to yourself, away from all of these faux smiles and boastful exchanges.

Reaching towards a raspberry, you feel fingertips ghosting across your back quickly.

“Y’alright?”

You’d recognise that voice anywhere, of course, and not just because he’s the only Irish man in The Cotswolds.

“Bored out of my mind, actually.”

“You’d never know.”

“I’m a good actress, these days. I’ve done one too many of these stupid garden parties.”

He chuckles all genuine and honeyed, and you’d be lying if you said the sound didn’t settle warmly in your bones.

“Whatcha doing tonight?”

He’s keeping his voice low, inconspicuous. You’ve both turned so you’re looking out over the garden, backs to the table, watching the crowds of people and their gossiping. To anyone else, it looks like an innocent conversation between two acquaintances. They can’t see his hand playing with the hem of your dress behind you, or the way his fingers keep brushing the backs of your thighs, sending shivers down your spine.

“My boyfriend is coming over. You know that.”

“What time?”

You roll your eyes but answer anyway.

“Nine.”

“So what I’m hearing… is that you’re available from whenever this crap finishes until then?”

“That’s a stupid idea.”

“You usually love my stupid ideas.”

“Well maybe I’m trying to be smarter.”

He laughs with his full chest while you fight to keep the grin off your face, shaking your head.

“You’re already the smartest person here. Any smarter and we’re all doomed.”

“Flattery will get you nowhere, Declan.”

He pauses for a moment, pressing his side into yours and running his thumb across the soft skin of your thigh underneath your dress.

“I think we both know that’s not true, sweetheart.”

Your breath stutters as you will yourself to get it together, desperate to not repeatedly give in to his murmured promises and flirty remarks. It’s wrong. You know it is, both of you do, and yet…

“I want you gone by eight at the latest. I don’t need the two of you bumping into each other on my front step.”

He smirks like the cat that got the cream, looking down at you with lust drunk eyes.

“Good girl,” he whispers. “Promise to make it worth your while, yeah?”

“You always do,” you breathe out, so quietly that you’re surprised he hears.

He’s about to reply when you’re both startled by Rupert, striding over with the confidence of ten men and a bottle of champagne in his hand.

“Have they run out of glasses, CB?”

He slings an arm around your shoulder, laughing that rich man’s laugh right into your ear.

“Live a little, darling. Walk with me, will you? I have a story that might be worth your time, and I thought I’d bring it to my favourite journalist before anyone else.”

Rupert all but drags you across the garden, already chattering on about a scandal in the local constituency of the Conservative Party. You cast your eyes back to where Declan hasn’t moved, his gaze roving over your figure as you walk away.

He winks cheekily, dirty smirk slapped across his face.

You hate the way it sends electricity running through your veins in anticipation.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

It’s six forty five when there’s a knock on your door.

The devil himself is standing on your front step, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed over his broad chest.

“Hi darlin’.”

His accent is like molten honey, golden and warm and laced with sweetness. There’s mischief running through it though - as there always is.

“Come on,” you urge, grabbing his tie and pulling him inside, worried that one of your neighbours will see.

He laughs as he shuts the door behind him, unphased by your urgency.

“Thought you had a meeting. CB was telling me all about it earlier.”

“Rupert would tell you anything,” he chuckles. “He’s got a soft spot for pretty girls.”

“Sounds like someone else I know,” you giggle, undoing his tie from around his neck and hanging it on your coat rack.

“No. I have a soft spot for one pretty girl.”

“Sweet talker,” you tease as you roll your eyes, undoing the first few buttons on his shirt. “How about you put your money where your mouth is, hmm? We don’t have all night.”

He clicks his tongue, hands finding your hips to pull you against him.

“Patience, sweetheart,” he murmurs, leaning in so his lips brush yours. “Good things come to those who wait.”

“Less talking,” you scold, grabbing at his biceps to kiss him desperately.

Declan pushes you up against the wall, hips pressing into yours as he slips his tongue into your mouth. He tastes like cigarettes and whiskey and those mints he keeps in a tin in his back pocket. He scatters open mouthed kisses across your neck, licking across your skin and sucking the spot underneath your ear.

“I’ve been thinking about you all day,” he mumbles. “Ever since I saw you in this dress.”

“You like it?” you breathe, head rolling to the side to give him more access.

“I fucking love it.”

“Good. Bought it for you.”

He groans, grinding his hips into yours.

“You’re a minx,” he pants, biting at your shoulder. “You know exactly what you’re doing.”

With that, Declan wraps his arms around your middle, practically dragging you into the living room to throw you onto the sofa. He pulls your dress over your head, throwing it onto the floor with reckless abandon.

He instantly gets on his knees in front of you, spreading your legs with rough hands.

“Been waitin’ for this cunt all fuckin’ day.”

Your underwear is tugged down and discarded before you can blink, leaving you naked and high on the anticipation of it all. Your lungs are heaving, hands shaking as you will him to do something.

Declan sits back on his haunches, making a show of rolling up his sleeves. He looks so broad and commanding in his blue jeans with his shirt undone. He might be the one on his knees, but he’s definitely still in charge here.

You tangle your fingers into his dark hair and tug, pulling him closer.

“Please, Dec.”

“You sound so beautiful when ya beg.”

He grips your thighs tightly, ensuring they stay apart, as he leans in and presses kisses to any skin he can find.

“Don’t tease.”

“Or what, hmm? What are ya gonna do, sweetheart?”

“Stop it,” you chastise, head dropping back onto the cushions. “Please, baby.”

He chuckles before diving forwards, licking a stripe through your core. He wastes no time, tongue flicking over your clit like he’s done so many times before.

“Yeah,” you breathe out, fingers gripping his hair tightly. “Fuck, Declan.”

You’re convinced he enjoys this just as much as you do. He’ll eat you out for hours, never once expecting something in return - happy to feel you fall apart on his tongue again and again and again.

He knows exactly which spots will have you arching your back, how much pressure to use to have you writhing on the sofa cushions, where to put his hands to push you right over the edge. He can play you like a fiddle, observant and experienced.

His nose nudges your clit as he fucks you with his tongue, messy and wet and completely committed. The grip he has on your thighs is getting tighter and tighter, fingertips bruising your skin. You pray you’ll be able to see the marks when you look in the mirror tomorrow.

You’re teetering on the edge of your release, legs shaking and abdomen tightening. Declan can read you like a book, knowing exactly where you’re at - and taking advantage of it.

Just as you’re about to come, he pulls away and sits back, grinning like a deviant.

“No,” you’re panting. “The fuck are you doing?”

He laughs, leaning down to rest his head on your leg. He looks up at you with a gaze that’s half lust and half mischief, biting at his lip as he watches your chest heave.

“What do you want, darlin’?”

You pout at him, tears welling in your eyes.

“Come on, let me hear you say it. I want you to beg me to make you come. Tell me how you’ve been waiting for it all day, sweetheart.”

“I-Declan, I just-”

“Come on smart girl, use that big brain of yours. Why don’t you tell me all about how you think about me when you touch yourself? No - why don’t you tell me how you think about me while he fucks you?”

Your hips buck up into the air, desperate for any kind of friction. Declan laughs cruelly, wrapping his arms around your thighs again to pull you to the edge of the sofa, the strength he exerts only turning you on more.

“It’s okay,” he soothes against your core. “You don’t have to tell me. Your dripping wet cunt tells me everything I need to know, darlin.”

All you can do is moan, breathing like you’ve run a marathon. All you can see, all you can hear, all you can feel is Declan O’Hara.

“If we had the time, I’d edge you some more. Eat you out until you cried. You always look so pretty when you’re crying f’me.”

He finally takes pity on you, curling his tongue inside you as his nose repeatedly bumps against your clit. He’s practically making out with your core, saliva dripping down your thighs and onto the sofa. You can’t bring yourself to care about the mess, more focused on the older man’s mouth and the skills it possesses.

You’re whining, fingernails digging into his scalp as you grasp for something to hold onto. He’s groaning too, having just as much as fun as you are.

“Come for me, pretty girl. Show me how fucking beautiful you look.”

Your back bows off the sofa as you grind against his face, riding out your climax. Your thighs tighten around his head, desperate for him to keep going for as long as possible.

“That’s it. Atta girl. There we go.”

You’re trying to catch your breath as Declan stands up, sitting down next to you and pulling you into his side. His fingers draw patterns on your hips, absentmindedly calming you down as you nestle into him, seeking out his body heat.

You lean up and kiss him, slipping your tongue into his mouth eagerly. He tastes like you, and the realisation makes you whinge.

“Let me return the favour, please,” you whisper against his lips.

“As much as I’d love that, darlin’… we can’t.”

You quirk a brow at him in confusion, his rejection more than unusual.

“It’s twenty past eight.”

“Oh, shit,” you groan, finding your underwear and pulling them up your legs.

“I wish I could stay,” he reassures as he kisses you again sweetly. “You know I do.”

You nod, running your fingers through his sweat soaked locks to move them out of his face.

“Promise I’ll repay you next time.”

“I’ll hold ya to that.”

The phone ringing startles you both, your heart jumping in your chest. You pick it up quickly, wrapping the cord around your finger.

“Hello? How are you? Ah, good. Yes, fine. Alright, I’ll see you then. Yes, see you soon. Mhmm… I can’t wait either.”

You put it down just as quickly as you picked it up, finding your dress from the floor and pulling it over your head.

“That was Patrick. He’s at the train station, about to start the drive back here. He won’t be long.”

“I best get going then,” Declan says as he buttons up his shirt. “Don’t need a family reunion in your living room now, do we?”

You shake your head, scoffing at his attempt at a joke. Walking him to the front door, you press his tie from the coat rack into his hand so he doesn’t forget it.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, won’t I? You’re coming for lunch at the house?”

“Wouldn’t miss it,” you say as you lean up to kiss him, sighing at the taste of his lips. “I’ll wear that lacy white lingerie under my dress just for you.”

“Great,” he groans. “Now I have to think about my son seeing that on you when it should be me.”

“You might,” you tease, smoothing out his shirt. “There’s a lot of rooms in that house, Declan.”

“You’re a minx.”

He kisses you once more, big hands cradling your face as he pulls you in.

“See ya tomorrow, sweetheart.”

“Yes, you will.”

You watch him go from your front step, making sure no one sees him leave. As soon as he’s out of sight, you’re shutting the door, trying to tidy the living room frantically. You open the windows, lighting a candle and picking up everything that was knocked to the floor in the lust filled frenzy. You’re covering your tracks as best you can, just like you’ve done countless times before.

You don’t need Patrick asking why the room smells like his dad’s aftershave.

You don’t need Patrick asking questions at all.

a little gift for you, as promised…

@do-it-for-kicks @whytheylosttheirminds @laverna-fanfictions @graceflorence

and of course, if you enjoyed this - throw me a little reblog if you so wish… help a girl out… <3

[mushies-stories]

Showering with TF141 for the first time headcanons

TF141Xreader

Warnings: little suggestive, 18+

John Price

Showering with John the first time made you feel like you had been doing it wrong your whole life. 

He has separate shampoo, conditioner and body wash. None of it smells too strong but over is a more masculine scent. He even suggested that maybe you bring some of your own shower supplies over to keep at his place.

He let you take up most of the warm water, the selfless and generous man he is. ^v^

Pampers you. John washes your hair and body without question. 

Thinks grooming each other is not only romantic but also is a strong form of bonding and closeness. He craves your attention and presence and showering together is perfect for that.

He uses a loofah to scrub your body, standing a little closer while he washes your back. His hands are firm but gentle as they caress your body and lather it in soapy suds. 

You lean with your head and back to his chest while his hands massage over your breasts and stomach. Teasing you just a little, fingers grazing along your nipples a little too much as he presses you closer against him. 

When his hand dips between your thighs and he runs his fingers between your folds you can’t contain the little moan you let out. He smiles into the crook of your neck and does it again and chuckles when your back arches, pressing your ass against him.

“Feel good love?” he teases. his hand abandoned your heat to rinse the rest of the soap off your body. With little sighs of protest from you. 

When he washes your hair, his hands are too gentle and so delicate that you could hardly believe they could ever be used for violence. He takes care not to snag any tangles and works them out with his fingers. Your eyes flutter shut when he starts to massage your scalp.

He makes sure not to get the soap in your eyes.

Is more than delighted when you take to washing him as well. Smiles and hands over the loofah. 

Maybe it's just me.. But… I imagine John standing in front of you with your back against the cold shower wall, his arms caging you in while you trail the loofah along his skin. 

It actually takes everything in him not to get to hard and fuck you. He had time for that later. Once you finally moved in he couldn't see a reason why he couldn't shower with you every chance he could get. 

Lets you use his bathrobe and laughs at how big it was on you. Make a mental note to buy you one of your own in your favorite color, but fluffier. 

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley

At first Simon wasn’t sure if showering together would be that good of an idea. He already took up a lot of space. When you finally convinced him and managed to actually fit you both in he was a little surprised. 

You fit but he didn't get as much of the water, otherwise he would take it all.

To your horror Simon uses a 2in1 shampoo and conditioner BUT he does have separate body wash. 

Nothing too extreme or strong for scent. Body Wash is like  irish spring or something but even lighter.

He was going to just take care of himself real fast then focus on you but you stopped him, hand on his arm and reaching for the bodywash yourself. You ask him with those sweet eyes of yours if you can help. He nods silently and lets you do as you please. 

The only thing he has is a sad looking rag so you opt to just use your hands, rubbing the soap over his chest and shoulders, making him turn around so you can reach his back. 

(if you are brave and so desire, you may try and cop a feel, go ahead. Just be ready to get your wrist snatched as he whips back around with a glare.)

But overall he enjoys the attention, it's soothing and relaxing and he's groaning when you wash his hair. Your fingers raking across his scalp helps his mind slow down a little.  

Insists on repaying the favor, being as nice and gentle as you were, caressing your body in his large hands. He had an easier time washing your body than you did his, making sure to reach every little crevasse of your body.

He's tried really hard to be gentle with your hair. He doesn't want to pull on any tangles and ultimately fails. But he kisses your head every time he snagged his fingers in your hair.

“Sorry lovie… not meanin’ta tug so much.” he mumbles an apology. 

Simon decided he didn’t really mind showering together, you actually made it a much more enjoyable process, not just something for necessity. 

After the shower he gives you one of his white shirts that covers just below your ass to lounge in, just to see your still damp body through the thin fabric. 

John 'Soap' MacTavish

Johnny was the one who dragged you into the shower with him with one clear goal. To make you smell like him before you go out with your friends, he had to get up early and decided to stay home.

Only problem.. Mans uses 3in1… granted its extra scented and you won't be able to mistake it was meant for men. But still, your cringe at the thought of using it. Even though you complain the whole time he’s lathering your body up and chuckles at you. 

He doesn't even have a rag, just a true dude really, roughing it in the shower. Just uses his rough calloused hands that sends chills down your spine instead.

Is handsy, can't stop himself from groping your breasts and lingering a little too long between your thighs. Even nipping and kissing your shoulder once he washed your body off. 

You have to bat his hands away to make sure you're not late, knowing you still have to get ready. 

“M’sorry dove, just so pretty and naked for me.” he groans into your ear, holding your back to his chest, hands cupping your breasts. “Sure ya gotta go? Can't just stay’er with me?” he pleads with you. 

You firmly, while giggling from his kisses on your neck, tell him you can't.

When he washes your hair he puts a little too much in and you have to squeeze your eyes shut and rely on Johnny to help you to the water. Teases you when you cling to him in your blinded state.

Honestly he wanted to ask you to wash him too but he knew you were running late so he did it himself quickly so you could get ready. 

Overall you don't mind his playfulness or his touchiness, with more time you would even indulge in it, but with better shower supplies. 

Drapes the towel over your shoulders and wraps you in his arms to keep you warm from the cold air.

good thing you at least had your makeup and outfit with.

You promise to buy a few new things for him, so you feel better about showering at his place. Then you'll make sure to give him the same treatment, with much more time. 

Kyle “Gaz” Garrick

Kyle, like John, has separate products. The scent of his body wash is stronger but with a... spicy?? under-tone to it.

Showering with him is a little slow, and lazy. He normally likes to shower right when he gets up and this time you just happen to join him, wanting to spend as much time with him before he leaves for the day. Not like he was complaining.

Keeps you close so you both can enjoy as much of the warm water as possible. Holds you to his chest most of the time  

Goes to wash himself before you stop him and take the body wash from him with a small smile. His heart flutters when you softly ask if you could help, which he responds to with a tired smile and a nod.

He lets himself relax, enjoying your hands lathering his body in suds. You were gentle and a little hesitant at first but soon gained full confidence when he handed you the shampoo and asked you to wash his hair too. 

You do so happily. You scratch and massage his scalp, making him groan with delight as the relaxing sensation. 

Before you even think of washing yourself, he's doing the exact same thing and stealing the bodywash, telling you it was his turn.

He’s respectful, only gripping onto your hips a little and cupping your breasts for only a moment. He has work and can't give you the attention you deserve. 

But that doesn't stop him too much, still not able to resist grabbing your ass and pulling you in for a lazy kiss.

When he washes your hair, he practically has you falling back asleep while you lean against him. He decided he could just eat on his way to base, making sure you were clean and happy was currently his top priority now.

Takes a moment to hold you under the showerhead, relishing in the warm water and you against him before reluctantly turning the water off.

He only has towels, but they're big and cover most of your body.

While he dresses, you crawl back in bed. Naked and clean. Kyle smirks and tells you that you better be right there, just like that when he gets home tonight. And you happily obliged. 

“Just like that, got it? Want ya naked and ready yeah.” He instructs with a glint in his eye.

[starsjulia]

spoilt rotten // leah williamson

masterlist

a/n : i flipping love writing leah x spoilt reader so here’s another one

warnings : fluff, playful teasing, kinda suggestive at the end

Leah Williamson was known for her unwavering focus on the pitch—sharp, commanding, and completely in control. As Arsenal’s vice captain, she knew how to lead, how to push her teammates to be the best, and how to give everything for the badge. But when it came to you? Well, Leah was nothing short of head over heels, and everyone knew it.

You were, simply put, breathtaking. A model with a body that could stop traffic, and a face so stunning it made people stare. Your presence was captivating, whether you were at a glamorous event or just lounging at home in one of Leah’s old hoodies. And Leah? She couldn’t help but spoil you rotten, constantly doting on you, treating you like a princess. It was something her teammates never let her forget.

The latest round of teasing came after a grueling win for Arsenal. The team was in high spirits, buzzing from the post-match high as they headed out for a team bonding dinner at one of London’s trendiest restaurants. The private room was filled with laughter and chatter, but all eyes turned when you walked in, your arm linked with Leah’s, her hand resting possessively on your lower back.

Dressed in a sleek outfit that hugged your curves perfectly, you looked every bit the model you were—effortlessly chic, and drop-dead gorgeous.

Leah, as always, couldn’t take her eyes off you. She was practically glued to your side, her thumb tracing gentle circles against the small of your back. Her teammates, well, they were all too used to it by now, but it didn’t stop them from throwing their usual jabs.

“Oh, here she is—our very own supermodel,” Katie called out, her Irish accent coming through as she grinned at you. “Come on then, Leah, what’s it gonna be tonight? More Chanel? Maybe a trip to Milan? She’s got you wrapped, mate.”

You laughed, used to the teasing by now, as you slid into the booth next to Leah. “I’m thinking diamonds, Katie. It’s been a while, hasn’t it, babe?” you teased, turning to Leah with a playful glint in your eye.

Leah groaned softly, rolling her eyes but smiling nonetheless. “Only the best for you,�� she murmured, her arm slipping around your shoulders as she pulled you close. Her lips brushed the side of your temple, her voice low enough that only you could hear, “You deserve the world, love.”

Katie snorted from across the table, leaning back in her chair. “Jesus Christ, she’s got you good. You’d buy her the moon if she asked, wouldn’t you?”

Beth, who was sitting across from you, grinned and elbowed Caitlin. “Aye, I reckon she already has. I mean, look at ‘em.”

Caitlin chuckled, her Aussie accent thick as she nodded. “Mate, I think we’ve all accepted Leah’s never gonna say no to her. She’s gone.”

Leah just smiled, unbothered by the jabs, and pressed a kiss to your cheek. “They’re just jealous,” she whispered in your ear, her breath warm against your skin. You shivered lightly at the feeling, biting your lip as you leaned into her touch.

The team broke into laughter, but Leah didn’t care. Her attention was solely on you, her eyes filled with affection as she watched you chat easily with the girls. Even after a tough match, you were the most beautiful thing in the room, and Leah’s heart swelled every time she looked at you.

As the dinner went on, the teasing continued. Between sips of wine and mouthfuls of food, the team couldn’t resist throwing more playful jabs Leah’s way.

“So, Leah,” Beth started, her voice laced with amusement, “how many handbags have you bought her this week? We reckon it’s at least three.”

Leah smirked, her fingers idly playing with the ends of your hair. “Only two,” she responded nonchalantly. “Had to hold back a bit this time.”

Katie let out a loud laugh, nearly choking on her drink. “Hold back? Are you hearing yourself?”

You giggled, leaning into Leah’s side as her arm tightened around you. “She’s just generous,” you said with a grin, flashing Leah a look that made her stomach flip.

“Generous,” Lotte echoed from further down the table, shaking her head. “More like she’s whipped.”

Leah huffed playfully, pulling you even closer so your legs pressed against hers under the table. “You lot are just jealous you don’t have someone as gorgeous to spoil.”

Caitlin raised her drink. “Touché.”

Leah’s hand slid a little lower on your waist, her fingers brushing just under the hem of your shirt, her touch making your skin tingle. You turned your head to give her a knowing smile, your voice dropping to a whisper. “You really don’t mind, do you?”

Leah’s eyes darkened just slightly, her gaze flicking to your lips before meeting your eyes again. “Not one bit, princess.”

---

A few days later, Leah had invited some of the girls over for a chill night at her place—Beth, Katie, and Lotte were sprawled across the couch and chairs, beers in hand as they chatted casually about the latest matches, the conversation flowing easily. Leah was mid-sentence, explaining some tactical breakdown from the last game, when you suddenly strolled into the room, your voice lilting with that teasing tone you always used when you wanted something.

“Leahhhh…” you called sweetly, padding barefoot across the living room in one of her oversized hoodies. Leah immediately looked up, her heart fluttering at the sight of you. “There’s this new Victoria’s Secret collection that just dropped,” you continued, drawing out your words as you made your way over to where she sat. “And you know how much you love it on me.”

Leah barely blinked, already reaching for her wallet. Without even thinking twice, she pulled out her card and handed it to you, her mind clearly still half-absorbed in the football conversation. “Sure, princess. Get whatever you want,” she said casually, not missing a beat.

You grinned, taking the card with a cheeky kiss to her cheek. “Thanks, babe,” you purred, already planning your shopping spree as you turned and left the room, your hips swaying just a little more than usual as you walked away.

The second you were out of earshot, the room fell into a stunned silence before erupting into laughter.

“No way!” Katie gasped, her Irish accent thick as she clutched her side, barely able to contain herself. “Leah, you didn’t even blink! You just handed her the card like it was nothin’!”

Beth was wiping tears from her eyes as she shook her head. “Mate, you didn’t even ask what it was for. She’s got you wrapped, doesn’t she?”

Leah shrugged, leaning back on the sofa with a lazy grin. “What can I say? She looks incredible in everything she wears—especially Victoria’s Secret. It’s a win-win for me.”

Lotte leaned forward, her brows raised in mock disbelief. “You serious? You didn’t even think about it.”

Leah smirked, completely unbothered by their ribbing. “Don’t need to. She can have whatever she wants.”

Katie groaned, tossing a cushion at Leah. “You’re bloody hopeless. Whipped doesn’t even begin to cover it.”

Leah caught the cushion and threw it back, shaking her head with a grin. “Yeah, well, if you had someone like her, you’d be the same.”

Beth grinned, leaning back in her chair. “Fair play. But seriously, Leah, you’re like a bloody ATM at this point.”

Leah just shrugged, a soft smile tugging at her lips. “It’s not about the money. I want her to feel special. She deserves it.”

Just then, you reappeared, walking back into the living room with a satisfied grin as you handed Leah her card. “You’re the best, babe.”

Leah smirked, sliding the card back into her wallet before grabbing your hand and pulling you down to sit on her lap. Her arms wrapped around your waist, holding you close as she nuzzled into your neck, teasingly repeatedly shifting yourself to ‘get comfortable’.

“Jesus Christ, can you two get a room?” Katie groaned, taking a long sip of her beer as she watched the two of you. “This is getting out of hand.”

Leah just chuckled, her lips brushing against your jaw. “We might just do that later,” she murmured lowly, her voice soft but with enough edge to make your skin tingle.

Beth groaned, throwing her hands up. “And here we go again.”

You laughed, pressing a quick kiss to Leah’s cheek before turning to Beth with a cheeky smile. “I told you—it’s the Victoria’s Secret effect.”

The girls erupted into laughter again, but Leah’s grip on you tightened slightly, her fingers brushing the hem of your hoodie. “Can’t say I mind,” she murmured into your ear, her voice low enough that only you could hear.

You turned, your breath warm against her skin as you whispered back, “I know you don’t, babe.”

Leah’s eyes darkened slightly, her thumb brushing against your bare skin under the hoodie. “I’ll show you just how much later.”

Your heart skipped a beat, and you bit your lip, the playful glint in her eyes sending a shiver down your spine. But before you could respond, Lotte interrupted with a dramatic groan.

“Alright, alright, enough with the flirting,” Lotte said, rolling her eyes playfully. “Save it for when we’re not here.”

You and Leah exchanged a look, both of you grinning before turning your attention back to the group. The night continued, filled with laughter, teasing, and the easy banter that only comes from close friends. But even as the conversation flowed, Leah’s hand stayed glued to your waist, her fingers gently tracing patterns against your skin.

And though her teammates teased her relentlessly, Leah wouldn’t have it any other way. You were her princess, her everything, and she’d spoil you for the rest of her life if it meant keeping that smile on your face.