#we been knew for ages but I just want to celebrate this moment

[sebbyisland]

All of this sickening hurting, come have a taste you deserve it

[Image ID: Full body digital illustration of Dabi from My Hero Academia. Dabi strikes a pose with one foot forward, his left hand out stretched in front of him and his right hand carding through his white hair, covering his eyes. He leans his head back, grinning. Dabi is illuminated by a large cyan blue fire behind him. In the top left corner, white bold text in all caps reads “COME DANCE WITH YOUR SON IN HELL.” /End ID]

[drcranessweetestdoe]

heyyyyy

could you do a Tommy shelby fic?

in which he fucks Ada's bestfriend when she is 18!

hii, love this idea xx I have been writing this all day, time to celebrate with a jam sandwich:) xx

Finally mine

warning: agegap!, Thomas lusts after her while she is underage, grooming, virginity loss, virginity kink, innocence kink, unprotected sex, Tommy being a softie, possessiveness

pairing: Thomas Shelby x Innocent!Reader

summary: ever since he came back from the war, Tommy found himself wanting his sister’s lovely and sweet best friend, too bad he has to wait until she is 18

(Y/N) was the sweetest girl in the whole of Birmingham, always polite and kind. Thomas was smitten with her from day one. She and Ada met in school, she felt sorry that Ada was always alone, because everyone told their kids to stay away from the filthy Shelby’s. So, one day she gathered the courage and sat beside the sad girl, who was very excited to finally have a friend.

It was the age of war, so everyone was always on the edge of a meltdown. And money wasn’t exactly falling from the sky. While (Y/N)’s family weren’t considered aristocrats by any chance, she never had to worry about not getting fed, or not having a warm bed to sleep in. That was something that the Shelby’s couldn’t exactly relate to, there was little money and quite a few mouths to feed. Aunt Polly tried her best to feed the hungry children at the table, but she was failing more and succeeding less. Her sister-in-law’s three big boys were away at war, but they were always talked about.

One day, the thirteen year old (Y/N) plopped down beside her best friend Ada with a full lunch box in hand. She always had lunch packed with her, but Ada never did. For a long time, she just assumed that the malnourished girl was not hungry in school. While she was munching on her apple, she heard the growl of a hungry belly and Ada turned her head down in shame. While a girl is naive at 13, (Y/N) immediately knew that her friend was hungry, and that she probably didn’t get as much food at home as she did. When Ada looked back at her, she reacted with a wide smile to the outstretched hand towards her, holding a big red apple.

For the rest of the break, they just sat under their tree, silently chewing on their apples, with a smile on both faces.

That is how Ada knew that (Y/N) was going to be her lifelong best friend. She opened up to her when they were sharing a cigarette on the edge of the forest.

“We had more money before the war, if Tommy was here he would make sure that we have food.” Ada explained.

(Y/N) just blinked at her friend. “Who’s Tommy?”

———-

Three years later, the girls were now sixteen and the war was finally over. Because (Y/N) herself didn’t have any brothers, or sisters, she didn’t know how many families waited for this day to come.

It was a pretty summer day, and she made her way to the Shelby household, where she was always welcomed by Aunt Polly. Except, when she walked into the house, there was only one man sitting at the table. Her breath got stuck in her throat and she blushed heavily, he was very handsome. For a moment she believed that she walked into the wrong house, but the photographs on the walls proved otherwise. He was smoking a cigarette and staring at the wall blankly, he was so lost in his own thoughts that he didn’t even hear her come in.

Thomas just wanted a moment to himself in his childhood house before going back to the Garrison, he was not the same man anymore. Suddenly, he saw a figure in the corner of his eye. A second later, the two pairs of eyes met. His previously sad eyes lit up at the sight of her, but he tried to conceal it. She was so beautiful… Slender and weakish frame, something that made him eager to protect her. Her long and soft looking hair. And that face, oh god, that pretty face.

“H-Hi… I’m (Y/N).” She walked closer to him and stuck her hand out for him, she recognized him from the pictures, he was one of Ada’s brothers.

He heard about her, Aunt Pol always told him what was happening on Watery Lane in the letters she sent to Tommy. She had mentioned Ada’s lovely friend, multiple times. She told him that the girl was pretty, very kind, and that she went with her to church on Sundays when no one else wanted to, just so Polly didn’t have to go alone.

Tommy smiled at her, and she felt herself get lost in those bright blue gems of eyes. Instead of shaking her hand, he brought it to his lips and planted a little kiss on it. Her hand was soft and warm, it was a while since he felt the touch of a gentle female. He smiled when she blushed more at his kiss. “Thomas Shelby.”

—----

From that day on, Miss (Y/L/N) was under the protection of the Peaky Blinders. Thomas always had one of his men following her and Ada to school, and then back home. It killed him knowing that he couldn’t touch her, make her his, not yet anyway. That would have been immoral and awful, and he knew that aunt Pol would have broken his hand in two and cut off his cock. That didn’t mean he hadn’t spent too many night fucking his fist to the thought of her. Everyone in the Shelby clan could see how soft he was towards her, always making sure that she stays out of the bad things, and whenever she came over and he was working, his eyes basically formed into hearts and followed her everywhere. The family loved her, she enjoyed baking and she always made sure that at least once a week she turned up to the office with home-baked treats. Those kinds of sweet treats calmed everyone down, business was blooming after all.

Ever since Tommy came back from the war, he only let himself be pleasured by whores, the one girl he wanted was the one he had to wait for. He always hired prostitutes that resembled her even the slightest bit. He imagined that he was burying himself inside her wet and warm walls, he overheard her and Ada and he was very well aware that she was untouched, a sweet little virgin. In Small Heath, the girls started sleeping around in their teens, but she, at 17, didn’t care about the boys her age. She wanted a certain gangster, who was nearing his thirties.

He didn’t even claim her yet, but wherever she walked, everyone knew she was Tommy Shelby’s girl. He sent her gifts, and always a handwritten note. Her heart never failed to warm up when she saw the little T.S on the bottom of the cards. Flowers, chocolates, exotic spices that she could put in her sweet treats, jewellery, dresses, everything a 17 year old girl loves. She was spoiled by him. When she wore one of the dresses that he got for her, she always sent him a shy smile and a little nod.

—-----

Tomorrow was going to be the day when she would finally become 18 years old, a young lady. She felt so antsy getting to bed, knowing that she would wake up as an adult. She also deeply hoped that Tommy would do something, after 2 years of gifts, protection and lustful gazes from distance. It was safe to say that her standards were very much heightened.

When she woke up, she noticed a big box on the chair of her vanity, tied up in one of those big ribbons. Her mother must have brought it up for her, as she always did when her daughter’s name was on the box, written by the familiar handwriting.

She was smiling widely when she opened the box up, it had a beautiful silky dress and a gold locket necklace. She marvelled at the divine fabric, but quickly blushed when she looked into the box again. There was a set of white lingerie and a note.

Tonight, I’ll send a car to pick you up at 7pm, be ready.

~T.S

She melted at that, and she felt her lower tummy warm up. This evening, she will finally be claimed.

——-

By the time 7pm rolled around, she did everything she could to make herself look pretty for him. She took a long hot bath, made sure she smelled good everywhere. She washed her hair and tied up half of it with a bow. She put lotion all over herself, sprayed herself with perfume and put the lovely dress on. Sitting in her vanity, she put on some makeup. She felt beautiful.

She got her light coat on, along with kitten heels and she was waiting for his car to come. When it did, she sat in the backseat and greeted the driver.

She got driven to Arrow house, which she only heard about before. It was so huge, and overwhelming, but very nice.

A maid took her coat and escorted her to the dining roomom. Just like the rest of the house, it was quite big, both the room itself and the table. It was decorated elegantly, the candlelight flooded the room. Just as she stepped in, Thomas walked in the room on the other door. He looked so handsome as always, with his muscular frame and his tailored suit.

His heart nearly jumped out of his chest, she looked like an angel, and she was standing in his house, wearing his gift. The maid left, now there were only two of them in the room, he walked up to her. With a gentle hand on her waist, he pulled her closer so he could plant a kiss on her cheek and whisper in her ear. “You look absolutely gorgeous.” He got even closer, her head was spinning with him so close, his masculine scent sent her hormones into overdrive. “I hope the dress isn’t the only gift of mine on you.”

He felt his dick twitch when she looked up at him like that, a gentle glint in her eyes. She shaked her head, too lost in his eyes to answer with words. To shake her out of her trance, he guided her to her seat, with his hand still on her slender waist.

He sat next to her, the maids kept on serving the finest of foods. Thomas also brought out a bottle of red wine. Both of them were surprised how easy it was for them to talk. They talked and ate, and Tommy even found himself laughing. He also found out how innocent she was, she wasn’t stupid, just inexperienced, and he was more than happy to give her experience. She also had a big heart, and a gentle soul, she was everything he needed.

While everyone in Small Heath tried to warn her about Thomas Shelby, she never understood why. He was just trying to protect his family and give them a chance at a better life, he was also an absolute softie for her. She could see that he had a lot of love to give, he enjoyed being the leader and defeating other gang leaders, but he must have been craving someone who could take care of him for once, she knew that she wanted to be that person.

When they finished dessert, he pulled her chair closer to his and cradled one of her blushing cheek into his palm.

“Are you aware of my intentions towards you?” He asked in a serious tone, she knew that he wasn’t fooling around. Now or never. She nodded as much as she could with the gentle hold on her face, but he wasn’t having it. “Answer me with words, I want to see if you really want this.” She felt dizzy by hearing his dominating tone.

“Yes, I know your intentions with me.” She replied shyly.

“What are they?” His fingers started to move her hair out of her face, caressing her in the process.

“Y-You want to make me yours.” She spoke lowly, it was hard to speak when he was looking at her as if he was seconds away from ravaging her.

“Yes, and do you want that, (Y/N)? Do you want me to make you mine?” He was even closer now, he whispered seductively in her ear, his full lips were nearly touching the shell of her ear. “Just say the word, sweetheart, and I will give you everything you crave. Please, let me give you the world.” Thomas Shelby barely used the word ‘please’, but he was nearly begging for her. She almost giggled, as if she really needed much convincing.

“I want it, I want it so bad, Tommy…” She was getting impatient, and he saw it on her.

“Shh, sweetheart… Don’t let your pretty head worry, I’m going to take care of you so nicely.” He stood up and stuck his hand out for her to take. “Come.”

He walked with her to his bedroom, she was walking behind him so she couldn’t see the wicked grin on his lips. When they stepped in the door, he just kept on walking, which caused her to walk backwards, until her knees hit the bed and she had fallen down on it.

He didn’t waste a second and crawled on top of her, his lips slowly finding hers. Their kiss started out slow, he guided her lips with his own. After a few minutes, noticing that she was starting to become more and more confident, he slipped his tongue into her open mouth. His hand wandered to her back, where the zipper was, his head pulled away so he could ask for silent permission. Once he got it, he helped her sit up and he removed the dress. Sitting back on his heels, he admired the sight in front of him, her young body was just begging to be ruined. She was wearing the lace, she looked exactly like an angel. His lips glued themselves to her neck and they sucked and bit, her noises were proof that she was enjoying his touch. He made sure to really mark her up, she wasn’t going to leave his mansion for a while, he needed his time with his new prize. She bit down on her lips to hide her moans, something he growled at.

“Don’t you dare. I want to hear you, don’t hold back, sweetheart.”

He went down to her breasts, he also reached under her arched back and unclasped her bra. She tried to cover herself, but he was having none of it. He slowly unpeeled her arms from her chest and kissed all around her breasts. “How beautiful! Such a nice pair of tits you have, the best I’ve seen.” He sucked a nipple into his mouth and she mewled loudly, she didn’t expect to feel so aroused while getting her nipples sucked at. He made sure that he gave both of her tits the same treatment before going lower.

Before he could do more, he stood up to remove his shirt and pants, her presence was making him hotter by the minute. He hooked his fingers into her panties and his cock nearly tore his underwear when he saw how the crotch was stuck to her entrance. She was already so ready for him. He yanked harder and they finally parted, he brought her panties up to his nose and inhaled deeply. “Mhm, so sweet… But, I think I need to feel this from the source.” Tommy dropped to his knees in front of her spread legs, her mind was making her doubt herself. What if she looked ugly down there? What if it smelled or tasted b—

“OH— Tommy!” She moaned loudly when his tongue licked a long stripe up her slit. He just chuckled into her pussy darkly, then he moved on to her pleasure. His mouth was sucking her throbbing clit, his fingers slowly circled her entrance, teasing her.

“Fuck… Your cunt tastes divine, and it’s only for my mouth to taste.” It wasn’t even a question. She was unable to form a coherent sentence, she could only moan and thrash on his tongue. He took one finger and he slowly eased it into her, she was so wet that it slipped right into her, he didn’t hesitate to add another one. “You’re going so good, I cannot wait to feel this tight virgin pussy on my cock.” He curled his fingers and rubbed them right into her spongy spot, her fingers grabbed his hair and tried to push his face more into her heat. He felt her clenching more and more, so he sped up his movements and grinned proudly when she came undone with a whiny moan and a desperate call of his name.

He kissed his way back up to her heaving chest and looked up at her flushed face. He talked her through it, until her breathing evened out again. He slowly slipped his underwear off, his back straightened out for her to see his big cock. It was veiny and thick and it made her nervous. He kept her legs spread, while he kneeled between them, one of his hand smoothing her face and the other one gripped himself at his base. “Want to give a little touch? Don’t be scared, I’m going to make this very pleasurable for you, my sweet girl.” He hissed when her fingertips made contact with his dripping tip, he was so pent up and her soft touch nearly made him blow his load all over her juicy tits, but he had to stay patient. “Are you ready? Ready to become mine?”

“Yes, Tommy, please, I want to feel you. I-I waited for you.” This caused him to grin and give her a deep kiss.

“I know you did, little one.” He positioned himself at her entrance and he slowly began pushing in, he felt a bit of resistance, but with a sharp thrust, he managed to break through it. He wrapped her up in his arms and whispered sweet nothings into her ear soothingly. “I know, I know. It will feel better in a minute, your pussy just has to adjust to my cock. Relax.” It didn’t hurt as much as she thought it would, but it still did, the girls in her class made it sound worse, or maybe their boyfriends didn’t take the time to prep them properly. That made her so proud, her Tommy made sure she was ready. She tried her best to relax her muscles and she felt the pain lessen. She planted a shy kiss on Tommy’s neck at which he chuckled at. “Good girl. You’re mine now, only mine.” He slowly began moving in and out of her.

Her walls gripped on him like a vice, he didn’t need any whores anymore, he had her now. His hands lifted her hips up a bit, so his cock was hitting her spot at every thrust. He went more and more faster, his fingers also began rubbing on her swollen clitoris.

“AH— Tommy, I’m going to—do that thing again.” His innocent little girl, so good for him.

“Good… I can feel you squeeze me, come on, sweet girl, come for me. Come on my cock. Let me fill you up. Let me make you mine.” With a shout of his name and a cry, she came around him. When he felt her walls pulsing around him, he let go too. His warm cum painted her walls, and it was such a delicious sensation. He stayed inside her for a few minutes, both of them trying to catch their breaths.

When he pulled out, he sat back so he could watch his cum leak out of her spent hole. He looked down proudly at his softening cock, which had some of her blood on it. Shit, he really filled her up with his load, there was so much of it. And the whiteness of him and the dark crimson of her virginity made such a lovely contrast together.

He took a rag from his bedside table and cleaned her up, making sure that he was gentle with her, the girl just got fucked and she was sensitive both physically and mentally, he had to be gentle.

After he made sure they were both clean, he once again brought her into his embrace. He smiled at her lovingly, which caused her to do the same. Her hair was all puffy from his touch, but he loved it.

“Are you okay? Does it hurt?” He cradled her cheek, and caressed her under eye area with his fingertip.

“I’m good, I feel a bit sore, but it’s okay.” She nuzzled into his neck and left little kisses. “I’m so happy to be here with you.”

He smiled in a way he didn’t for a long time, and he felt his heartbeat quicken. He wanted to give the world to the girl in his arms, and he felt the primal urge to protect her and keep her away from all the bad. “Me too. I’m happy to know that you’re finally mine.”

taglist: @your-nanas-house

[hannibals-favourite-meal]

Happy 6k!!!! That’s so exciting and you deserve it :)

Can I request Bucky & touch starved?

.⋆｡Small Adjustments｡⋆.

Bucky Barnes x plus size reader

To Bucky, touch brought with it pain and suffering but maybe it can be different with you

Warnings:  touch starved!Bucky, fluff, mutual pining, mention of torture, bit of hurt/comfort WC: 1.3k

6k Follower Celebration Bingo

Library- @hannibals-favourite-meal-library

It was an unspoken agreement amongst the Avengers that under no circumstances was Bucky to be touched. There were one too many instances of him lashing out at even the smallest of touches and after Peter’s arm was almost broken when he grabbed Bucky’s shoulder to steady himself after tripping, the rule was firmly set in place. 

Touch had always been the harbinger of pain to Bucky. He had experienced and survived thousands of experiments; he knew the difference between acids just based on how much they burned him when they made contact with his skin. He knew what it was like to be ripped apart from the inside out as he was stitched back together while fully conscious. Bucky’s nerves were permanently scarred with each and every moment of pain, ensuring that he would never forget what he had gone through. Needless to say, he appreciated the physical distance the Avengers afforded him, even if it did make his chest ache sometimes.

He saw the friendly touches between them all— a hug after a hard mission, a clap on the back during training, even the occasional platonic cuddling during movie nights and he couldn’t help but be envious, especially when it came to you.

You were, by far, the most affectionate person he had ever met. You didn’t hesitate to wrap yourself around anyone who needed a hug, your hand was quite frequently clamped with someone else’s (Natasha’s or Wanda’s more often than not). You weren’t selfish with your touch and though it could be deadly thanks to your training, Bucky knew that you would never hurt the people you cared about.

“Barnes~ where are you!” Bucky’s lips curled into a gentle smile as your voice floated through the hallway, immediately brightening up the entire building.

“I’m in the kitchen, doll!” He shouted back before your footsteps quickened and you burst into the room. Your eyes, although still bleary with sleep even though it was 2 in the afternoon, positively sparkled as soon as you spotted the ex-assassin. Bucky raised an eyebrow at you, and you flustered slightly, looking down at what you were wearing.

“I thought I lost that shirt.” 

“Yeah well don’t leave your stuff out if you don’t want someone to steal it.” You shrugged as you skipped over to the pot of fresh coffee still sitting in the machine.

“I seem to remember putting that shirt away, in my closet, in my locked bedroom.”  Bucky took a sip of his own coffee.

“I don’t know what to tell you, I think old age is finally getting to you.” You tried to hide your warming cheeks behind your mug but he could see right through you.

“Whatever you say doll.” A comfortable silence settled over the both of you for a moment before you cleared your throat.

“So… we have the place to ourselves today,” Bucky knew what was coming, “wanna binge-watch Supernatural with me?” You looked up at him with such a hopeful expression on your face, it made his heart skip a beat.

“I don’t know, I was planning on going for a long run today.” His voice tilted up but in your post-sleep haze, you couldn’t pick up on the shift in his tone. Immediately, your eyes dropped and your bottom lip poked out. Bucky’s stomach flipped and suddenly all he wanted to do was to scoop you up into his arms and kiss away your pout. Instead, he blurted out quickly, “Hey, hey. I was just teasing. Of course I’ll watch with you. Gotta see what Sean and Dan get up to.”

You sniffed. “It’s Sam and Dean and you know it. Don’t pretend you’re not as obsessed as I am.” The band around his heart loosened.

“Yeah sure. You want Chinese or Thai?” He fished his phone out from his pocket.

“Like you even have to ask.” You retorted.

——————

You felt like you were sitting next to a feral cat as the food coma finally set in. Empty boxes of food were scattered around the coffee table in front of you while yet another episode started up but it wasn’t as if you were paying any sort of attention to the screen in front of you.

Somehow, during your feast of questionable takeout, Bucky had migrated from where he had been perched on the other side of the couch to sitting beside you, the thick muscle of his thigh almost touching your knee where you were curled up. His blue eyes stayed glued to the TV while he sighed heavily and leaned back into the couch cushions.

You held your breath as his shoulders dropped, leaving barely an inch of space between you. This was the closest Bucky had ever gotten to you and you would be damned if you fucked this up. Of course you knew about his aversion to touch, you had even witnessed his violent response to it first hand but Jesus did you want to feel the heat of his skin, the strength of his body as he hugged you.

Bucky was undoubtedly your best friend out of all the Avengers yet he was the only one to have never felt your embrace. 

Your body trembled as you tried to keep yourself still. You didn’t want to accidentally brush against him and send him scrambling off but you also didn’t want to move away and give him the impression that you didn’t want him near you. And selfishly, you did want him beside you if only to fuel your hopeless crush on the man. 

There was a gunshot on the screen, startling you. You jumped and suddenly, you were half on top of Bucky. 

Your palm spread across the expanse of his stomach, letting you feel the hardness of his abs and the warmth that radiated off of him. The tip of your nose brushed against his as your eyes locked. You both stayed there for a second before the reality of the situation hit you squarely in the chest.

“Oh god Bucky I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to.” You threw yourself back against the arm of the couch as panic bubbled up in your gut. Bucky remained frozen where he sat, both his hands slightly raised as he looked down at his lap. “Bucky I-“ Your voice was thick with tears. 

You shook your head as you pressed the heels of your palms to your eyes, desperately trying to keep them away. How stupid were you? You knew you should’ve just given him some more space, paid attention to the TV so you would know if something would startle you. Do literally anything else besides jumping on the man with severe trauma. You messed everything up.

“Doll,” Bucky cooed as his hand gently wrapped around your wrists, slowly pulling them down so he could look at you, “I’m not mad.”

“You’re not?” He chuckled softly, now bringing your hands into his lap so he could hold them.

“How could I ever be mad at you? I know it was an accident but more than that, I know you would never want to hurt me. I’m safe with you.” You could feel the slight tremble in his hands like he was struggling to keep touching you but Bucky refused to let go, he even shuffled closer to you. You nodded but stayed quiet. He finally smiled. “Besides, I think it’s time I got one of those famous Y/N hugs. Not now of course, I’m way too fucked up for that, but soon.”

“Don’t be mean to yourself Barnes,” you scolded, “lots of people hurt you. You get to be patient with healing. We just make small adjustments, build up to it y’a know.”

“Yeah, small adjustments.” His right hand slid into your left, your fingers intertwining as you both melted back into the couch, your eyes drifting back to your show that neither of you would be paying any attention to. After a few minutes, Bucky’s thumb began to rub against the skin of your knuckles, a delicate back and forth that both sent a flurry of butterflies into flight in your stomach and ignited your cheeks with a blazing heat.

Small adjustments indeed.

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[russo-woso]

Russo with a breeding kink where she begs you to cum inside her

Please || Alessia Russo

Warning smut 18+, breeding kink, strap on, cunnilingus

Walking out of the tunnel, you had felt just how cold the London air was.

Goosebumps started to rise on your arms from a mix of the coldness, and the cheering coming from a sold out emirates.

You looked across at your teammates and opponents.

They all had jackets on, your teammates wearing identical ones to yours.

Looking down at your mascot, you realised that he had no jacket on. Just an Arsenal kit on.

He was only about four years old and at that age, the cold was like glass. Dangerous.

“Are you cold, little man? Would you like my jacket?” You asked crouching down and smiling at him.

With a small nod of his head, you unzipped it and wrapped it round his shoulders.

Alessia, your girlfriend, watched the event from further down the line, her heart swelling at your caring and thoughtful manner.

Her heart wasn’t the only thing that was affected.

As you carried on making conversation with him, making him laugh and smile, before carrying him back over to his dad who was in the tunnel, Alessia continued watching, her ovaries feeling like they were exploding.

Her mind couldn’t stop wondering to the thought of you with yours and her’s future children.

Alessia pushed the feeling to the side, focused on the match.

But you didn’t make that easy for her.

As you gathered round for a team talk, you rested your hand on her waist, pulling her closer to you, and squeezing it.

Images of your hands gripped to her waist flashed in Alessia’s mind. Her head was against the pillow, her eyes rolled back.

The worst thing about all of this, was the fact that you two had never sat down and discussed the topic of kids.

You’d been dating just over a year but one of you chickened out just before asking the other.

When the whistle blew, Alessia tried her hardest to push the thoughts out of her head.

She knew this was a big match and desperately wanted to try and get on the score sheet.

And that’s what she did, with a 4-1 win over Chelsea, Alessia bagged two goals, but as soon as she met eyes with you, her mind was clouded again.

You had celebrated with your teammates before going over to a little girl who seemed to be upset.

Alessia watched from afar. The way you hugged her so gently to the way how you spoke to her, it all made Alessia desperate.

Desperate for her and you to talk about kids, but also desperate for you to get back home so she could reveal some new information that only she had developed within the last few hours.

After a team gathering, Alessia couldn’t take her eyes off you.

During the talk, you could feel eyes on you and you looked around the circle and met eyes with Alessia.

You could tell she was deep in thought with the way her eyebrows had furrowed slightly.

As the team separated, you made your way over to Alessia putting your hand in hers as you walked back to the changing rooms.

“Baby, where are we going? Are we even allowed to be back here?” Alessia questioned as you took her to one of the storage rooms near the changing rooms.

“What’s wrong, Less? I’m worried. You’re constantly thinking. I feel like you’ve been zoned out since we walked onto the pitch.” You told her, holding her hands and rubbing your thumbs over them.

Alessia thought for a moment. She thought about whether to wait until you got home but decided against that, wanting to know your opinion now.

“Do you want kids?” She asked and you widened your eyes.

It had come out so straight forward that it had taken you by surprise.

“It’s just that I saw you with the little boy and girl and I couldn’t help but think about what it would be like if we had kids, but then I realised we’ve never discussed it. Then I thought that you might want kids, but not with me.” Alessia continued as your face dropped at the idea of her thinking that.

“Is that what’s been on your pretty mind? Of course I want kids, lessi. And I definitely want kids with you. I’d want nothing else than to have a baby with you. Now, is that the only thing that’s been on your mind?” You questioned her, noticing how her face changed as if she was embarrassed. “Remember, you can tell me anything, pretty girl.”

“It’s just, I thought about our future kids but I also thought about how you would you know.” Alessia responded, her answer vague and leaving you with no answer.

“How I would what?” You asked, your hands on her waist now.

“How you would fuck me if you could get me pregnant.” She announced, by the looks of it, shocking herself at her boldness.

A smirk appeared on your face as the thought flashed around in your head.

“Get your things, we’re going home. I’m gonna fuck you so good when we get home.” You whispered the last bit in her ear, pressing a light kiss to her temple before walking out like nothing had been discussed.

————————

The ride home was silent.

Both, you and Alessia, deep in thought about what events would unfold when you got home.

As you walked through the door, you dropped your stuff on the floor, immediately picking up Alessia bridal style before carrying her up the stairs.

You placed her in the centre of the bed before climbing on top of her.

Hungrily, you placed your lips on hers, Biting down her bottom lip to allow your tongue to slip in her mouth.

In the meantime, your fingers played with the hem of her shirt.

You pulled it above her head, catching your breath before latching your mouth on her neck.

Small whines escaped Alessia’s mouth as you sucked on her pulse point.

You lifted her back, reaching to unclip her bra.

“I’m gonna fuck you so good, Less. Gonna fill you with all my babies.” You whispered as you kissed the valley of her breasts.

In response, Alessia just let out a moan, telling you that she wanted this badly, and she had wanted it for a long time.

You continued kissing down her body, Alessia squirming at every one of your kisses.

As you reached her pussy, your tongue instinctively swiped through it.

You moaned into her pussy, the taste of her and Alessia’s hands in your hair making it pleasurable for you.

You continued to lap your tongue over Alessia sweet spots.

Alessia and you had always explored sex since you started dating and so it was safe to say that you knew Alessia’s body as if it was yours.

You knew exactly what pressure to use when at certain points of her body, more specifically her pussy.

Flicking at her clit, you could tell she was getting closer by the second.

The way how her core started clenching every time you added pressure, the way how her fingertips pressed harder at your skull.

Just before Alessia tipped off the edge, you stopped what you were doing and took your face away from her core.

You looked up just in time to see Alessia groan and throw her head back against the pillow in annoyance.

“It’ll be worth it, pretty girl. I promise.” You said, pressing a kiss to her cheek as you leaned towards the bed side table, grabbing the new strap you’d bought days prior.

This strap also happened to be the biggest strap that you’d ever used on Alessia.

You attached it to the harness before setting it up on you.

Alessia stared at you as you put it on, her eyes widened at the thought of you inside her.

“You’re gonna be a good girl and take it, okay? I’m gonna make you a mama, gonna get you pregnant and you’re gonna have my baby.” You told Alessia whilst lining up the strap with her pussy. “You’re gonna be such a pretty mama.”

You pushed the strap more and more into her before eventually, your hips met her skin.

“Feel good, pretty girl?” You asked her, gripping onto her hips.

“So good. So fucking good.” Alessia mumbled, pleasure clearly running through her body.

“I’m gonna cum right there. ‘m gonna make sure you get pregnant. I want you to have my baby so desperate, lessi.” You said, thrusting harder and deeper into her.

Alessia’s moans increased in volume as you kept making comments about her being pregnant.

This is what she had dreamed of for weeks, ever since the thought popped into her mind.

“Oh god. I’m gonna cum, Y/N. Please cum inside me. Please.” Alessia begged, her mind solely focused on the pleasure coursing through her veins and the thought of you coming in her.

“I will, pretty girl. Don’t worry, I will.” You promised her, continuing to thrust into her so you could tip yourself over the edge.

Low groans escaped past your lips as your high took over.

Your ground into Alessia, getting you and her through your highs.

“Fuck. I think I enjoyed that more than you.” You told Alessia, gently slipping out of her before laying down next to her.

“I can’t tell you how much I wanted that.” Alessia whispered tiredly as she rested her head on your bare chest.

“I meant what I said, Less. I do want a baby with you. Not now, obviously. But when the times right, I want us to have a baby.” You admitted, playing with her hair.

“I want us to have a baby too.”

“I promise we will.” You said, pressing your lips to her forehead. “We’ll have a baby. But for the time being, I think it’s best if we stick to the baby making process.”

Requests are open :)

[igotanidea]

Different lives: dad!Jason Todd x wife!reader

Request: Family au, I believe that Jason Todd is a family man and he would totally have 2 older boys like 15-13 a five year old daughter who has him like wrapped around his finger and the wife and Jason get like a call from the school saying there was a fight and Jason is all like hey no no we don't do that but then asks who won

***

It seemed like they were dancing at Dick and Babs’ wedding only five minutes ago.

Holding onto each other for dear life, like they knew that that person in their arms were the one. Like this little celebration, that was not really little, and not even theirs, made them think about future much more seriously.

And for the first time ever, Jason actually believed that maybe there was something more for him in this life. Something more than rejection, pain, fear and constant loneliness.

Of course, given the fact that he and Y/N had been together for a while, he knew that before. But at that moment, in the middle of the giant dancefloor, surrounded by other couples and guest and yet – having eyes only for her – he knew.

Two different things.

***

When he came back home from his work (he had regular work now! That scrawny kid and rebellious young adult turned into a responsible head of the family, though the moment of change somehow skipped them both) Y/N was on the phone with a concerned face expression.

“Yes. Yes, I understand. I’ll be there right away. Yes. Yes, absolutely.” She turned to Jay and send him a smile, tired if not exhausted, but a smile regardless.

He let her talk, instead focusing on his little princess daughter playing on the blanket next to her mother’s feet. That little being totally had him wrapped around her finger and all it took was a sight of her pretty eyes that looked so much like her mother’s and he was dropping everything and rushing to the girl’s side.

“What happened?” He asked taking Leah on his knees and settling on the couch next to Y/N, wrapping an arm around her shoulders trying to relieve the obvious tension. He had his girls therefore he had everything and there was not a single thing he wouldn’t do for them.

“It’s Liam and Dylan.” Y/N sighed pinching the bridge of her nose.

“Oh, right” Jason smirked at the thought of his two older sons. 15 and 13 now, looking and acting just like him at this age. Causing troubles wherever they showed, not taking anyone’s bullshit, but with a deeply hidden heart of gold. He was so proud of them, even if saying that out loud was a rare occurrence. “What did they do this time?” he chuckled, mischief dancing in his eyes.

“Jason!”

“What?”

“This is not funny!”

“Of course it is! They are boys, they are allowed to-“

“I’m warning you, do not finish this sentence!” she placed both hands on Leah’s ears “I don’t want my baby girl anywhere near trouble.”

“You know she’s got our blood in her veins, so that gives her a lot of genetic burden in the troublemaker area?”

“Jason!”

“What?” he shrugged casually “It’s true and you know it.”

“Mhm. Yeah, we’ll see how you act when he grew up on causing troubles with boys-“

“WHAT?!” Jason jumped off the couch, holding Leah’s little body close to his chest, his grip on a girl tightening significantly. “Over my dead body! That’s my little girl! No one is taking her away and-“

Y/N only laughed observing the jealous dad display and fairly enjoying the show of care. It was heartwarming, seeing Jason put so much care into someone. And him having it reciprocated as Leah nuzzled into his body with multiple happy chuckles playing with the fabric of his shirt, fisting and twisting it mercilessly.

“Daddy…” she chuckled enjoying his embrace. Even as a child she was always calmer when he was holding her.  

“Shhh, shh baby. Daddy’s gotta have a word with mummy.” He caressed Leah’s hair and kissed the top of her  head. “Stop laughing at me Y/N, this is serious shit! I need to start planning my predicaments for boys who might want to steal her heart and-“

“She’s five Jason!” Y/N laughed even more “I think you have a little bit of time.”

“This is serious!” he perked up.

“Of course. The same way it’s serious with Dylan and Liam.”

Jason grunted in annoyance seeing how she tricked him.

“Dammit Y/N…” he grinned immediately flinching inside at the thought Leah heard the cussing. “Sorry, pumpkin…” the little kiss planted on girl’s forehead did not stop her from repeating the word however.

“Dammit!” Leah cried out the word on the top of her lungs happily.

And that was how Jason knew he was up to a serious conversation with his wife.

***

An hour later, all the family was sitting in the car, Jason driving, Y/N shotgun and the kids on the backseat, with Leah in the middle being simultaneously entertained by both her older brothers. Under  any other circumstances Y/N would probably let her motherly instincts come to the fore, but this time was different.

“Liam, Dylan, stop using my soft spots and family love for your own purposes.” She warned “you may love your sister, but you’re still in trouble.”

“We didn’t do anything!”

“Liam Thomas Todd!” she almost turned around ‘you got into a fight at school.”

“But it was not our fault mom!” the other son, immediately came to his brother rescue, having his back, which – again – awakened her motherly pride. A feeling she was not going to subdue to. Those boys needed a little reaming out regardless of siblings’ solidarity.  “That guy just came at us and –“

“Dylan Roy Todd. Violence is not an answer and-” She said, with conviction at first but then stopping, having realized that those kids did in fact have Jason’s and hers blood and those words were a hypocrisy in purest form. Fuck. She hissed to herself, hesitating in the middle of the sentence. A mistake Jason was more than willing to jump at.

“A fight huh?” he smirked looking into the rearview mirror to sneak a glance at his sons. Liam with already bruising eye and Dylan with a swollen nose, clutching it tightly to prevent any blood stains on upholstery. “So, did you use those blows and punches I’ve been teaching you?”

“WHAT!?” Y/N turned from facing her sons to facing her husband so fast that something snapped loudly in her neck. “JASON PETER TODD!”

“Y/N, Y/M/N, Y/L/N” Jason grinned in response, not paying her that much attention too curious of his offsprings response “Who won?”

“You should have seen the other guy” his boys smirked in the same way he was, and his fatherly heart could not be bigger at that moment.

Even if he knew Y/N was already planning her revenge on them all.

[avatar-anna]

this is very unedited, and i'm like half asleep as i write this, but a Horan!sister reader has been in the back of my mind recently (mostly bc i miss one direction and maybe bc i saw niall live a couple weeks ago) anyway, enjoy!

"We...We, um, we kissed."

"Yeah. We did."

"But we're—we're friends."

"I know."

"Are you freaking out? I feel like you're not freaking out enough," you said as you paced the length of your hotel room.

Harry, who sat on his bed, the one mere feet from yours, shrugged. "I don't see a need to, honestly."

You couldn't believe how nonchalant he was being. You and Harry had never expressed any romantic feelings for each other. You'd known each other for ages, and of course you thought he was attractive—who wouldn't?—but that was it. There were never any heated glances, no longing gazes while the other wasn't looking, no hugs that lasted too long to be anything other than friendly. You were friends, nothing more, and what had just happened changed everything.

Unless...

"You're right," you found yourself saying. "It was just a heat of the moment thing. We—We just got excited, that's all."

You were ready for Harry to agree with you. You were ready to agree to forget about the kiss, to never mention it again, pretend it never happened. That was the only logical option in your mind, unless you wanted to throw years of friendship down the drain. You didn't want to be a cliche, and you didn't think Harry wanted to either.

Plus, there was the other thing, but you didn't want to even think about that right now.

"Did we?" Harry asked. He looked amused as he tracked your movements, one hand playing with his bottom lip as if he was trying to cover up a smile.

"What do you mean—Of course we did. You're you and I—and he—Stop looking at me like that!"

This time, Harry didn't even try to hide his grin, dimples set deep in his cheeks as he laughed. "Like what?"

"Like you—" Like you want to sleep with me, you thought but didn't say. That was even more dangerous territory. "Like you don't regret what we did."

"We kissed, Y/n, we didn't kill someone," Harry said.

Right, you thought. This was normal for Harry. He probably didn't think twice about it because he was constantly kissing people. Well, not constantly, but definitely more than you did. Your brother made sure of that.

"You're right, sorry," you said. "So we'll just forget it happened then, right? We can just go back to—"

"Hold on a minute, I didn't say that."

For the first time since you kissed him, you looked at Harry directly. "Excuse you?"

"I don't regret what happened," Harry said, standing up slowly. "Do you?"

"Yes! I mean we're friends, and your best friend is—"

"Let's leave that out of the equation. Just for a second," he said. For every step he took toward you, you took one back. "That wasn't just in the heat of the moment, Y/n. I think we both know that."

"It—It was. We were celebrating and got carried away—"

"See, I'd believe you if you hadn't used tongue."

"You used tongue first!"

"And you moaned."

"It was a sound of surprise from the use of said tongue!"

Harry took another step closer, and once your back hit the wall, you had nowhere left to go. He was close enough that you could smell his cologne, sweet and a little smoky. His eyes were intense as they stared down at you, expression unreadable as he looked you up and down.

Since you met him, Harry had been hard to read. He was naturally quiet, never giving much away unless he was more than a few drinks in. Not to mention the first few years of knowing him that you'd gotten to know each other more. You only knew him through your brother, who was more than happy to stick you with the annoying little sister role, despite only being a year younger than him.

There was a point in time where you might've had a crush on Harry. You remembered watching him on TV at night and liking his voice and his smile and curly hair. Your brother had gone and ruined it of course when you met for the first time, teasing you about said crush, and you went so out of your way to convince everyone that you didn't that you succeeded perhaps a little too well. But now you knew Harry better. He wasn't some boy who sang on television anymore. Well, he was, but he was so much more than that now, his fame growing wild and beyond anything you could comprehend.

"Was it a bad kiss?" he asked suddenly.

That was a question you didn't expect. "What? N—No, it was fine—"

"Fine? Just fine?" Harry repeated. "What's a guy got to do to be better than fine?"

"That's not what matters!" you said, growing exasperated. "It should never have happened in the first place. You're my brother's best friend, you're—you're his bandmate!"

Niall had an embarrassing amount of rules when it came to you and his friends. Not that you thought they were ever really necessary, though now you weren't so sure. Half the boys were already in relationships anyway, and Harry was...well, he was Harry. As long as you'd known him, he'd never had a long term relationship. You didn't know why, and you were never close enough to him to ask. But the more famous he, and One Direction, became, the more...larger than life he seemed. Or maybe it was that you were in the perpetual space of being Niall's little sister that you'd just automatically written him off as someone who wouldn't be interested in you.

Either way, whatever was happening now was nerve-inducing. And scary. And making you feel things you weren't sure you wanted to feel.

"Is there an area I could improve in? Like specifically? Or was it the overall kiss that was mediocre? I'm really trying to wrap my head around this," he said. "Not to be rude, but I normally don't get many complaints."

"How are you being so—so unbothered right now?" you asked.

"I don't know, I just know that I liked kissing you," Harry said with a shrug. "And that I'd like to do it again. If not for the sake of kissing you then to at least improve from fine to enjoyable."

"Oh my God, the kiss was better than fine, okay? It was probably the best kiss I've had in a while. Best kisser in all of London. You're a proper Casanova," you admitted with a huff, knowing Harry wouldn't let that one detail go. "Happy?"

"Very. So...want to do it again?"

"No!"

"Why?"

Was he whining? "Because—"

"Okay, all of the stuff about your brother and my bandmate and how this probably isn't a stellar idea aside, you can't tell me you don't want to," he said. His eyes searched yours, looking for an answer in them before you said it. "I meant what I said, Y/n. I don't tend to do things I'll regret, and I don't regret kissing you."

That face, you thought. It was too beautiful, too distracting to make you think straight. Harry was all sharp angles and high cheekbones and long hair now, it wasn't fair. You didn't stand a chance against it all. Especially when his big green eyes almost seemed to plead with yours.

Deep down—maybe not even that deep, quite shallow, actually—you knew you enjoyed the kiss too, and not just because Harry was objectively good at it. It was him, it was the pesky feelings that erupted and took root inside you when you first slid your lips against his. Perhaps the kiss had started out as a heat of the moment thing—an overemotional celebration after watching a particularly intense football match after running into each other in London. You were there on holiday and he was home during his time off. You found yourselves spending they say together, finding comfort in each other's familiarity.

You'd never meant to spend the whole day with him, you'd never meant to invite him to your room to watch football and order room service, you'd never meant to kiss him after a goal scored. Yet you did, and you had, and it was hard to cross back over to ignorance and bliss when you knew what it felt like to have Harry's lips on yours.

"We can't tell him," you said. "Not yet. Not until we know what we're doing. He'll kill you."

"I know," Harry said, his fingers coming up to play with a strand of your hair. "When do you go back home?"

"In a few days, but—Fuck."

"What? Changed your mind already?"

"No, I just—I'm coming with you. On tour," you said, eyes widening. "It was Niall's graduation gift to me. Some time off traveling before I get a job and everything."

"Okay, well that's—that's an obstacle for a few days from now. Let's just—unless you don't want to anymore—I mean, I can go if—"

"Who's nervous now?" you teased.

"Not nervous, just being extra sure. Got a lot to live up to, being the best kisser in the world and everything."

"Pretty sure I said London."

"Pretty sure we don't need to debate it anymore," Harry said, bringing your arms up to wrap around his neck. "You can just kiss me now instead."

The movement felt almost too natural, his hair soft beneath your fingertips as you leaned in, putting you both out of misery and kissing him for the second time.

It was just as good, if not better than the first time you kissed him earlier. Harry's lips were incredibly soft, gentle but sure. Your body molded perfectly against his, feeling light as his hands roamed up and down your back, through your hair, on your hips. You felt those same butterflies from before, the ones that told you you might be feeling more than just lust, but you batted that thought away.

It was way too early to be entertaining those thoughts. You wanted to just enjoy the moment, go with the flow and not lose yourself in he-loves-me-he-loves-me-not. So you pulled him closer, sealed your tongue against Harry's bottom lip, and savored the flavor of his mouth on yours, letting it drown you until you could think about anything else but him.

"We're gonna have fun on tour, I think," Harry breathed, his voice coming out in shallow pants as you kissed along his jaw and up the shell of his ear.

There were a million reasons why you shouldn't, but they all floated away as Harry hoisted you up into his arms, your legs moving instinctively around his waist, leaving just him and a very easy and resounding yes. Your answer came in the form of kissing him once more, your hands tugging eagerly on his hair until every doubt and question was a distant memory.

[lila-went-missing]

Because of Her

Small Clarisse drabble I made while watching Are Your Afraid of the Dark? season 3 cause I'll watch anything if Diors in it. It's not that great but I have a fic coming that's slightly similar to this but more frenimies to lovers if that makes sense.

Pair: Clarisse La Rue x Fem!Demeter!Reader

Clarisse La Rue had a reputation to uphold. She never lost a fight. She was never soft, never kind. Always ruthless, cold, and calculating. She was a daughter of Ares if nothing else, that was for certain.

But that all came crashing down the day she met you. The moment her eyes met yours, she knew she was fucked. Your sweet, caring gaze had her locked in. In an instance she was wrapped around your finger.

She would never admit it, but everyone knew she was whipped. Except you, the one person that mattered.

Over the last four years of you being at camp, you two had become extremely close. The fact that you hadn't realized how infatuated your best friend was with you, baffled everyone you knew. You saw the way she stared at you, but that was normal for best friends, right?

She fell more and more in love with you every day. That's what brought her to the strawberry fields. You were knelt next to one of the bushes, picking the ripe berries and tossing them into your basket. Her footsteps broke you out of your trance as she crouched next to you.

"What'cha doin', pretty girl?" A smirk graces her lips as she looks at you.

"Pickin' strawberries. Where've you been, Clar?" You giggle as you look up from the bush. She swears it's the most melodic thing she's ever heard.

"Training a couple of the new kids, you know how long it can take. How about, I make it up to you? How does that sound?"

"Really? How?"

She doesn't answer, she just grabs your hand and pulls you up to your feet, dragging you away from the fields and into the woods. You laugh as you're led through the trees. After a while she slows, walking side by side with you. Her hand never left yours, pulling you closer to her.

"Where are we going?" You ask, smiling up at her.

"You'll see, we're almost there."

Soon, you came upon a clearing in the woods. There was a blanket laid out with a basket on it, surrounded by flowers.

"It's the anniversary of the day you arrived at camp. I figured we should celebrate." She whispers in your ear, coming behind you with a hand resting on your arm.

"Clar!" You turn to face her, wrapping your arms around her neck. "Thank you!" Her arms come around your waist, pulling you into her. She lifts you up off your feet, carrying you over to the blanket. 

“Of course, pretty girl.” Your placed back onto your feet, sitting with her on the ground. 

“This had to take you ages!” You marvel as everything she’s brought, lemonade, all of your favorite fruit, minis your favorite kinds of sandwiches.

“It was worth it for you.” Your eyes meet, her hand comes to your cheek, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. “It’s all worth it for you.”

The breath is knocked from your lungs as you stare at her. Looking in her eyes feels like swimming in pools of honey, getting lost in the sweetness she only presents to you. The care only you are worthy of. Suddenly her lips are on yours, it takes you a minute to realize and by the time you do she’s pulled back. 

“I- I’m sorry..fuck, I don’t know-” She’s cut off by your lips against hers. It’s passionate and soft, yet hot and fiery. The perfect combination of both of you. Her hands land on your cheeks and pull you furth into her. You could get lost in the way her lips feel, the taste of her cherry chapstick on your tongue. 

“Clar..” You’re both breathing heavily when you pull away.

“I should’ve done that way sooner.” She admits. You nod in agreement. 

“Why didn’t you?” 

“I didn’t think you liked me like that. Thought you’d hit me and run away.” 

“I could never run from you. Even if I wanted to, I think I’m pretty stuck with you.” You smile, your hand moving up to her neck.

“Yeah, you are.” She smiles back, kissing your cheek 

“Well, we better not let this food go to waste..” You laugh softly, pulling back. She rests on her hands.” Yeah, this took me hours, you better eat it.” 

Another laugh escapes your throat as you pop a piece of fruit in your mouth. “I thought you said I was worth it. Here I was thinking I was special.” Her foot nudges yours. “

“You know you are.” 

The food is divine, and you have more fun than you have in a very long time. The flowers around you seem to bloom more, color saturating more, reflecting on your mood. The breeze is warmer. The trees sprout more leaves. And it’s all because of her.

[bwabys-scenarios]

Halloween with the Spiders

Phantom Troupe x Fem!Reader

!!REBLOGS APPRECIATED!!

warnings: looots of pussy eating, characters get hard/horny around reader. they eat her pussy after drinking, but they’re only buzzed, not drunk

A/N: I write Chrollo as the shy and awkward guy he actually is so… he’s not super suave in this. Also sorry I wrote out Kortopi, Franklin, and Bonolenov. I’m just not interested in their characters like at all 😭🙏 they’ve got nothing going for them I’m afraid!

taglist: @desiray562 @lovelyxkazuha @ashdownunderscorebeloved

if you would like to be added to the NSFW taglist, comment a ❤️!! make sure you have your AGE in your bio, and that you’re able to be tagged/mentioned!

It was the end of summer, august slipping into September before you knew it. The weather was still warm enough outside for you to be wearing a tank top and shorts, something the blonde you were currently dealing with appreciated greatly.

“Okay Shal, you should be good to go. You can get a popsicle from the fridge now.”

You were the sweetheart of the Phantom Troupe, a woman Chrollo had recruited to be the troupe medical director after he watched you donate your time and services to meteor city residents.

Right now, you were at one of the various expensive hotels Chrollo rented for you, using your nen to tend to Shalnark’s wounds. “Thanks, (Name)! I really thought I was a goner this time!”

He gives you a sly smile as he laps at the popsicle you give him, causing you to laugh. “Shal, you had a cut on your cheek. I swear, you’re such a baby.”

You didn’t know the real reason he always came with injuries in… strange places. He wanted you to use your nen on him, knowing it worked in an unusual way.

When you wanted to heal someone, you used physical touch, and depending on the severity, it could be a touch of your finger to a kiss from your lips. Today, it was a simple touch.

You glanced at the TV, a Halloween themed add popping up. “Oh wow, they’re showing these real early this year.”

Shalnark looked up, biting down on his popsicle. “Huh, weird.”

He hummed, getting a mischievous look in his eyes. You were a real sweetheart, but also easily manipulated by sob stories. “You know, none of the Phantom Troupe has ever celebrated Halloween.”

This had your full attention immediately. “… what?”

———————

Ever since Shalnark informed you of the troupes lack of Halloween experience, you’ve been meticulously planning a way to celebrate with them.

It wasn’t easy getting them all together unless Chrollo willed it, so you’d have to go to the leader to ask for a favor.

You were one of the only members that knew of his location at all times. In your mind, it was because you had an important role, but in reality it was because Chrollo quite enjoyed your presence.

“Chrollo!”

You sprinted towards the dark haired man, and though calling out his name in public wasn’t exactly the safest thing to do, he didn’t scold you. He instead smiled, opening his arms and allowing you to jump into them. “I’m glad you could find me with ease. Let’s go to a cafe and you can discuss what you wanted to talk about with me.”

Chrollo never let you pay for your own things when he went places with you. He said it was because you did so much good for the Troupe, but that was only a half truth. He enjoyed taking care of you.

“Mmm… oh!”

You placed your pumpkin spice muffin down, and Chrollo couldn’t help but laugh when when you held up a finger as you chewed. “I almost forgot to actually talk about what I came for! Chrollo!”

He lifted a napkin, wiping at your mouth. “Shh, (Name). You shouldn’t speak my name out loud so easily, it’s not exactly a common name.”

You blushed, and he placed the dirty napkin in a nearby trash can. “Oh, sorry…”

He motioned for you to talk, and you cleared your throat. “Anyways, Shalnark told me that none of you have ever celebrated Halloween! Is that true?”

He stared at you for a moment, trying to see why you’re bringing that fact up. “Yes, that’s true, we haven’t c-“

Your tears surprised him, but not enough for him to react. You’re kind of known for being a bleeding heart, so his expression stayed neutral, but he did offer you his handkerchief. “Chrollo, Halloween is so much fun! You get to carve pumpkins, wear costumes, eat lots of treats…”

You paused, reaching out to grab his hand. “So, the reason I asked to see you…”

Chrollo waited for you to continue patiently. He couldn’t help but find your ditzy and forgetful nature endearing, so he smiled.

“I want the troupe to get together on Halloween at my house!”

This actually surprised him. He nearly choked on his strawberry scone, having to pat his chest for a moment. “You… you said the troupe? As in everyone?”

“Mhm!”

He stared at you for a moment to see if you were being serious. You were smiling, looking hopeful and expectant.

‘How… can I put this gently..?’

Chrollo squeezed your hand, causing you to tilt your head. “(Name), my sweet and kind friend, the troupe has only come together once in the past three years, and that was for an important heist. I’m not sure if they’ll want to meet for… a Halloween party.”

You giggled. “Oh, but I’m sure they’ll love it! Besides, if you order it, they’ll come!”

He sighed. You looked way too cute, giggling and smiling as you pulled out a notebook and began showing him the things you already had planned.

Sometimes, when he watched you, all he could see was Sarasa. Your perky personality and compassion for others reminded him of her so much, it was one of the reasons he adored you so.

And one of the reasons he had trouble telling you no.

“Alright, alright. I’ll ask them to come, but it won’t be mandatory.”

You squealed in delight, nearly jumping over the table to give him a hug. “Oh, thank you Chrollo! It’s going to be fun, I promise!”

He sighed, smiling and patting your back. Normally, Chrollo would push any other person away, but he let you get away with a lot. “Okay, (Name).”

———————

It was the day before Halloween, and you were sulking. Already, three of the Troupe members wouldn’t be able to come. Franklin, Kortopi, and Bonolenov each called to say they couldn’t make it.

You’d spent most of the week decorating your house and getting it ready for guests. Feitan, Shalnark, and Shizuku would be staying in your three guest bedrooms while the rest rented hotels.

“(Nameeeee) come open the door!”

You blinked, looking out the window to see Shizuku behind your door. “Oh, Shizuku, you’re early. I thought you’d be here tonight?”

She walked into your home, turning in a circle before tilting her head. “I wanted first pick of the rooms, so I finished up my job quick.”

That was only half true, she wanted more private time with you!

“Oh, that makes sense. You’re just in time then, I finished making all the beds a few minutes ago!”

She nodded and walked upstairs to pick her room. Not even five minutes later, you heard someone knocking at your door.

“Coming!”

You open the door to see Feitan standing behind it, holding…

“Feitan, is that… is that a pumpkin?”

“Halloween, pumpkins are important.”

He handed the pumpkin to you before pushing past you into your house. If you didn’t know any better, you would think he looked almost… proud of his “gift” for you? Feitan watched you carry the pumpkin into your kitchen, where you sat in on the counter.

“Oh wow, it’s huge! What a nice pumpkin!”

He nods, following you. “Stole best one.”

You held back a laugh, knowing he was a bit sensitive when it came to giving gifts and being nice. “Oh, I can tell. Thank you so much Fei!”

Feitan had the habit of following you around like a stray cat when he was around. It was an improvement to your relationship when you first joined the Phantom Troupe as an honorary member. He used to sprint away from you the second you looked at him, and now he followed a few feet behind at all times. Honestly, he was pretty cute. Like a stray cat.

“Hey princess!”

You blinked as your door was torn off its hinges and Uvogin walked in, laughing and stomping into your kitchen before picking you up into a crushing hug.

Feitan stood in the doorway, watching the interaction with narrowed eyes. “Careful, Uvo. She not like us. Fragile.”

uvogin looked down to see Feitan was right. The girl in his eyes was making a pained expression, patting his arm to signal she couldn’t breathe. “Oh, my bad.”

He let her go, keeping her steady as she drew in breath. “Woo… now that is a bear hug that I think an actual bear would give, Jesus Christ…”

You turned back towards the cabinets and began taking out what you would need to get started on baking. “Uvo, could you be a dear and grab my Halloween decorations from the attic? I tried to get them earlier, but they were way too heavy.”

“Of course!”

He walked up the stairs, leaving you to sigh softly. “Okay, let’s see what we can do about that door-“

“It’s aight, (Name). I’ve got it fixed.”

You nearly jump out of your skin when Phinks and Shalnark just appear behind you, and peek over them to see that your door was indeed fixed!

“Oh, thank you guys!” You give them both an affectionate pat to the arm before continuing your baking preparations.

———————

By the time you finish baking, your house is full of Phantom Troupe members. Pakunoda, Nobunaga, and Machi arrived individually within the last few hours. Machi shyly offered to help you bake, watching you from the corner of her eye as you worked. ‘Cute, she’s even wearing an apron…’ Machi thought, her eyes soft as she watched you.

Chrollo was the last to arrive, getting to your house at nearly 8 pm. He opened the door, every member looking up to him when he did. “Hello, everyone. I’m glad to see you could all make it.”

You rushed forward and took his coat, gently scolding him for not wearing a shirt underneath. He laughed, sitting down and smiling at the troupe. Chrollo waited for you to go back to the kitchen before his face returned to its usual serious expression.

“As you can see, (Name) has tried her hardest to make our first Halloween celebration the best it can be. You’ll do as she says, and have fun, though I’m sure none of you wish to upset our special girl.”

They all glanced between each other, nodding slowly. After that, they had a quick meeting to discuss non Halloween matters before (Name) came back into the living room. “Okay, I know I gathered you all here before Halloween, but it’s only to go over my plans and give you all your gifts!”

“Gifts? Aww, you didn’t have to do that for us, sweetheart.” Nobunaga said, smiling.

“But I wanted to! Lemme go grab them!”

You scurried up the stairs, giggling the whole way up. “It seems she’s excited about this.”

You walked down the stairs a few minutes later with a large box in your arms, whining a bit. “Hnn… it’s kind of heavy…”

Several of the boys jumped up to help you, but Feitan got there first. “Give. Too weak.”

You handed the box over, knowing Feitan was doing it to help you. “Thanks, Fei!” You gave him that pretty smile of yours, and the rest of the troupe grumbled lightly.

Feitan sat the box on your coffee table, using his sharp nails to slice open the tape. “…”

Inside were clothes, all the same design. “(Name) what exactly are these… gifts?” Shalnark asked, tilting his head as he pulled a set out.

“Oh, they’re matching pajamas! I was hoping we could all get a picture together!”

You hand out everyone’s clothes, smiling.

“How did you know our sizes?” Pakunoda asked, seeing the set of pajama was her size. You giggle, turning towards her.

“I have my ways~”

Surprisingly, most of them were completely fine dressing in the Halloween themed pajamas for pictures, and the ones that weren’t did it anyways.

Phinks sat on the couch after the pictures, humming. “Huh, these are pretty warm and soft. You mind if I take these with me back to my hotel?”

“I don’t mind at all, they’re yours after all!”

The people that weren’t staying the night filed out soon after, all thanking you, a few giving you hugs and cheeky kisses to her forehead.

“Goodnight, (Name). Sleep well, and thank you for this.”

Chrollo was the last to leave, saying that before cupping your cheek and planting a kiss on your forehead. It left you. A little flustered, but you still waved at them all. “Be safe, and make sure you’re here by 9 am!”

Shalnark, Feitan, and Shizuku stayed behind, the former two eating some leftovers you had in the fridge. “Wow, it’s been nearly a month since I’ve gotten to try your homemade cooking, (Name)! This is amazing!”

You felt your face heat up, giving your friends a sheepish smile. “I’m happy you’re enjoying it.”

Soon, everyone went to bed, and you climbed into your own, excited for the day to come.

You wake up in the middle of the night to the feeling of eyes on you. You’re quick to reach for your light switch, only for your hand to come in contact with someone’s face.

A hand covered your mouth before you could scream, the person shushing you gently. “Don’t worry, it’s just me, (Name).”

Shalnark sat, crouched next to your bed, that boyish smile on his face as he pulled his hand away. “Huh… why are… why are you in my room?”

“Oh, we’re watching you sleep.”

“We’re?”

You blinked, glancing around the room to see Feitan standing in your doorway, leaning against it. “I not watch, making sure he don’t try something.” Feitan corrected, glancing to the blonde.

“Oh, you wound me Fei. I would never hurt (Name)!”

“Not hurt, but might touch while sleeps.”

The blonde blushed, glancing down at you as you gave him a disturbed look. “No, I promise I wouldn’t do that! I just… you look really cute when you sleep!”

“… how many times have you watched me sleep??”

“… almost every time we have a mission together.”

Feitan nodded to confirm this, walking into your room. “He not mean any harm, just worried.”

Shalnark pouted at his friend. “So you were teasing me on purpose earlier?”

The two ignored him. “Worried? What does that mean?”

Feitan sighed, plopping down on your bed. “We… lost people before. Shalnark get anxious, not want you to get hurt. Watches you.”

You soften, gently patting the blondes head. “Aww, Shal, that’s really sweet. I’m okay though, I promise!”

You give them both a smile, tentatively patting Feitan’s arm. He tenses, but doesn’t move. ‘Progress!’

You kind of treat Feitan like a scared stray cat, and it works most of the time. After your gentle pat, he scoots closer ever so slightly. You rub your eyes and yawn. “Well, I’m going back to sleep.”

You turn around and pull the blanket up to your chin, snuggling into your pillow-

“Shizuku!?”

“Hi.”

The dark haired girl was lying next to you, wearing the Halloween pajamas you gave her. “W-when did you get here?”

“I’ve been here the whole time.”

“She has.”

“Longer than Shal.”

You sigh, lying back on your pillow, accepting this. “Okay, as I said, I’m going to sleep. Just… don’t do anything weird and you can all stay.”

Strangely, having the three in your room helped you sleep better. It almost made you feel safe, knowing your friends were watching over you.

——————

The Troupe gathers in your living room at 9 am sharp, some looking tired, others perky. You’re surrounded by your comrades, some(namely Shizuku and Feitan) hovered around you shamelessly as you began to speak.

“Okay, the first thing on our list is pumpkin carving!”

You had Uvogin and Phinks help you carry in the pumpkins as Pakunoda and Machi laid out newspaper to keep your living room clean. “So this isn’t just normal pumpkin carving, it’s a contest! I’ll be the judge, and whoever makes the pumpkin I like the best, wins!”

“What’s prize?” Feitan asked, poking his pumpkin. You blinked at the shorter man.

“Oh… I think I completely forgot about a prize. Any ideas guys?”

You smiled, still in your cute pajamas. Shalnark raised his hand. “Shal?”

“How about a blowj-“

Phinks smacked the blonde over the head before Shalnark is pulled away by a few members and scolded in the corner.

“Hmm? What did he say?” You asked, tilting your head. Chrollo cleared his throat, the man surprisingly flustered easily.

“Nothing. How about… a kiss from you as a prize?”

You hummed softly. “A kiss? That doesn’t seem like a good prize, I don’t think anyone here would want th-“

The entire troupe started to argue with you, and you blush.

“Oh, um… okay. A kiss it is.”

This helped to motivate the group, but before they could start you raised your hand. “Two rules, guys. No nen, and you have to use these pumpkin carving tools.”

Already, Machi and Shalnark were pouting. Feitan took the pumpkin carving kit, raising an eyebrow at you. “… dull blade. Why?”

“Well, it’s supposed to be child safe.”

“(Name), we’re a band of thieves.” Chrollo said, his lips twitching into an amused smile. “We can handle actual knives.”

You whine and hand him his own kit, puffing out your cheeks. “Well too bad, thems the rules!”

You cross your arms and walk into the kitchen.

“Haha, you sure pissed her off, boss! Boss?”

Chrollo sat in the chair with his head in his hands, groaning. “I’m an idiot.”

Uvogin clapped him over the back with his large hand, laughing. “Oh don’t worry boss, you know she can be pouty when it comes to our safety.”

“Boss not wrong though. Kill people, can use knife.” Feitan grumbled, stabbing his pumpkin.

“Fei, I don’t think that’s how you carve a pumpkin.” Phinks said, crouching down.

“Tch, you know better?”

Phinks held up his phone, a tutorial on the screen. Pakunoda, Machi, and Shizuku sat together, ignoring the men as they carved their pumpkins, occasionally dodging flying pumpkin guts.

——————

You walked out of the kitchen 30 minutes later, carrying in some muffins shyly. “Sorry, I was a little rude earlier. I made some- oh, are you all done?”

You ignored the complete mess the troupe had made, happy that you laid out plenty of newspaper. Nobunaga nodded, holding up his pumpkin. For an expert in the sword, it looked… really bad.

“Yep, we just finished up!”

You hummed and looked over each pumpkin. “Oh, Paku, is yours a cat?”

She nodded, trying to keep a neural expression. It was a little cat, and you couldn’t help but coo and take a picture. “Cute!”

It wasn’t amazing, but cute nonetheless. You continued looking, the next one to catch your attention being Shalnark’s. It was an image of some anime character, and despite looking amateur, you could recognize the character. “Oh, is that sailor moon? It’s really good Shal!”

He gave you a proud smile, holding his pumpkin i his lap. The last pumpkin that caught your attention was Feitan’s, which was honestly the best looking one. It was a detailed carving of human heart, and you couldn’t help but be impressed.

“I think we have a winner!”

You pick up Feitan’s pumpkin and hold it up for everyone to see. Despite being upset they didn’t win, everyone also agreed his was the best looking.

You placed the pumpkin on your table before smiling. Under his jacket, Feitan’s cheeks were a soft pink as he stood before you. “Fei, are you ready for your prize?”

He froze, his hands trembling slightly in his pockets. Feitan had always been on the shy side, and when it came to you, his shy nature only intensified. The others could pick this up, especially Phinks and Shalnark. The two were about to speak up, but you talked first.

“Fei, I won’t kiss you if you don’t want it.”

His eyes widen slightly. How should he tell you that it’s not that he doesn’t want to kiss you, it’s the fact that he wasn’t sure how his body would react to such a thing? Shit, it was already hard enough to not pop a boner in your presence, a kiss might kill him!

“Kiss… kiss alright. Can handle it,” he tried to say nonchalantly, but his words came out shaky. You smiled warmly, stepping closer and gently tugging the hood of his coat down.

“Are you ready?”

His heart thumped against his chest rapidly, his eyes half lidded as he stared at your soft lips. “Y-yeah…”

You leaned forward and pressed your lips to his for a moment before pulling away, giggling. “There you go!”

You open your eyes, only to see him tug his hood back into place and speed away from you. Feitan’s face was bright red, and he could feel his pants tighten as he his under hid coat.

“Well,” Chrollo said, getting everyone’s attention. Only few people would be able to read the hint of jealousy in his eye as he spoke. “What’s next, (Name)?”

———————

After a quick lunch, the group gathered at a corn maze. “Okay everyone, we’re going in groups of two, using the buddy system in case we get separated! Stranger danger, ya know?”

Phinks patted your head. “No one else is here, (Name), we’re the only people in line. I don’t think we’ll have any trouble with stranger danger.”

“Besides, we’re all adults and nen users.” Pakunoda said, slightly amused by your concern.

“Hmph! We’re doing the buddy system, there’s scare actors in there. What if one of them can use nen? It’s better to stick to pairs of two!”

Chrollo nodded, paying for everyone to enter. “That’s smart, (Name).”

The pairs were as so: Chrollo and Pakunoda, Phinks and Feitan, Shalnark and Machi, Uvogin and Nobunaga, then Shizuku and you.

Pakunoda glanced at you and Shizuku. “Are you sure that’s a good idea, (Name)? Shizuku can be a bit forgetful, I don’t want you two to get separated. You’re scared easily, aren’t you (Name)?”

Shizuku huffed before pulling you into her chest. “Hey, I’ll keep her safe! I’ll stay focused!”

You blushed a little, your face directly in her breasts. “Mmph!”

She released you, patting your head. “Whoops, you alright?”

You nodded shyly, your face hot.

The group entered the maze, taking different paths. It was large and intricate, more like a labyrinth than a maze. Shizuku kept a hold on your hand, occasionally squeezing it when someone jumped out to scare the two of you.

“Oh. (Name), are you scared?”

You were trembling and holding onto her arm, giving her a slight nod. “A little, y-yeah…”

The two of you continued to walk through the maze, but Shizuku seemed to space out. “Hmm…”

She let go of your hand for just a moment, and when you attempted to grab her hand again, she was already gone. “Shizuku? Shizuku!”

You shook in your little Mary Janes as you tried to find her. Just then a man with a chainsaw begin chasing you, causing you to shriek and sprint in a random direction. “AGH! SHIZUKU! SOMEONE!”

You cried in fear, spotting a familiar figure and nearly sobbing. “Uvo! Nobu!”

They looked up, Uvogin opening his arms to allow you to jump into them. He held you close as you trembled and cried, obviously terrified. Nobunaga gave you a look of concern before glancing up, unsheathing his sword and the man approached.

“Hey, back off. She’s scared.”

The man takes one look at the two menacing figures before turning around and running away. Nobunaga turns back to you, gently running his hand over your hair to smooth it out. “Hey, he’s gone. You’re okay now.”

You sniffle a little, but relax into Uvogin’s arms. “There ya go, princess. Just relax. We’ll find our way out.”

The two spent the rest of the maze in silence. Their intimidating presences alone were enough to keep all the scare actors at bay. By the end of the maze, you had fallen asleep, your arms around Uvogin’s neck.

“Uvo, Nobu? Oh thank god, you found her!”

Shalnark ran towards the three, looking over you with relieved eyes. Nobunaga held a finger up to his lips, the blonde getting quiet. “She’s sleeping, Shal. Did anyone find Shizuku?”

Said girl was being scolded by Feitan close by. She seemed sorry enough, glancing at you with regretful eyes. “I didn’t mean to leave her, I got distracted…”

Chrollo took you from Uvogin’s arms, sighing softly as he tucked your hair behind your ear. “That doesn’t matter, all that matters is she’s safe. Let’s get her home.”

By the time the group got home, it was dark. You awoke when you heard a wet thwack!

“Huh? What was that?”

Chrollo set you down. “I’m not sure, I think it’s coming from around the corner.”

You peeked arousn the corner, your eyes going wide. “The pumpkins! Hey!”

You run forward, the troupe following close behind. A group of drunk men were smashing the pumpkins you all worked hard on. “Hey, you assholes! Get away from-“

You attempted to shop them away, but were pushed to the ground. “Shut up, bitch. Stupid whore thinks she can tell us what to do…”

Thankfully, Phinks caught you before you could hit your head on the concrete, his strong arms lifting up up. “You alright, sunshine?”

You nod, sniffling a little, tears running down your cheeks. “They… they’re smashing our pumpkins…”

He did his best to comfort you as the rest of the Troupe advanced. “Trash, make her cry.” Feitan spits, wielding his umbrella.

“What should we do, boss? Can’t let them hurt our sweethearts feelings, can we?” Pakunoda asked, ruffling your hair as she passed by.

Chrollo hummed. “Take them out, but wait until we get (Name) inside.”

Pakunoda, Feitan, and Shizuku stayed outside while the rest walked in. You heard screaming for a minute, then the sound of Shizuku’s nen activating.

“I’m sorry about the pumpkins, (Name). I know you liked them.” Shalnark said, sitting next to you as you sulked on the couch.

“It’s okay… I got pictures of all of them… at least…”

Shalnark patted your back before opening his phone. “I’ll call in some pizza, okay? Uvogin and Nobunaga brought alcohol, so why don’t we watch some horror movies and chill?”

You nodded, rubbing your teary eyes. “Yeah, that sounds fun…”

——————

It didn’t take long for everyone to get pleasantly buzzed, you included. The troupe gathered around your TV, each taking turns to sit next to you. After all, you always jumped into the lap of whoever sat next to you when you got scared!

You stood up, humming. “Imma grab some treats, made ‘em yesterday.”

Little do you know, Shizuku had an idea. You returned with the tray, placing it on the coffee table and smiling. “Okay, dig in g-“

The dark haired girl snuck up behind you, yanking your skirt down and sitting you on the coffee table. “Let’s play a game, whoever can eat her out and make her cum the fastest, wins.”

You sat there dumbfounded, trying to process the fact that your pussy was on full display for the entire troupe, and they were all blatantly staring. You tried to close your legs, whining, but Shizuku kept them held open. “H-hey!”

You pour at her, but you don’t make any further moves to stop her. You’ve never had someone eat you out before, you hadn’t even had sex, so the thought of all 8 members present taking turns making you cum was making your pussy drool in delight.

It’s not like you haven’t imagined it a few times. Your fellow troupe members were attractive, and although this was a little embarrassing, you were a little excited.

“F-fuck…”

Phinks crouched down in front of you, taking a good whiff. You squeaked, your face hot with embarrassment.

He’s quickly shoved away by Machi, who huffed. “You said you get to go first? We’ll have to draw straws.”

Chrollo cleared his throat, the bulge in his pants more than evident. “That’s a good idea, Machi. Get the straws.”

You were allowed to sit down on the couch, a pillow under your hips to get you comfortable.

The first one up was Feitan. You felt a bit sorry for him, he was obviously inexperienced in such a thing, staring at your pussy with wife eyes, his hands shaking a little when he grabbed you by the hips.

He lowered his head to your pussy, looking up at you with those dark eyes. He took his coat off, now only wearing pants. Even from this angle, you could see the tent in his pants, his cheeks a light shade of pink.

“Come on, Fei. Hurry up!” Phinks yelled, tapping his foot impatiently.

Usually, Feitan could be pretty intimidating to most people, but you knew that he wasn’t actually a bad guy, he was just a bit shy and awkward. You played with his hair, trying to encourage him. “It’s okay, take your time.”

Even as you said this, you lightly bucked your hips trying to reach his face. You couldn’t help it, he was so close to burying his nose in your pussy.

Maybe he just needs a little guidance…

You look at him, grabbing a fist full of his hair and gently guiding him to your cunt. His eyes widened, and when his lips touched your pussy, he moaned into you. Feitan’s tongue darted out of his mouth, testing the waters.

“Mmph…”

He buried his face in your pussy, licking and sucking everywhere. Occasionally he’d touch your clit, but you knew without some more guidance, he wouldn’t be able to make you cum.

Gently, you grabbed his hair again, cooing softly as you guided him towards your clit. “Here, Fei.”

He glanced up at you through his dark eyelashes, immediately latching onto your clit. This had you mewling, your hips bucking into his face.

Feitan was a fast learner, you only had to show him how to please you once and he was on it like a hawk. After a minute, you ended up cumming on his tongue, panting softly.

Phinks clapped Feitan on the back as the dark haired man pulled away. “Hey, it took a bit but you got her there! Nice job, man.”

Feitan looked at you shyly, patting your thigh. “… good girl.”

‘Oh, he’s so cute.’ You thought, wanting to give him a kiss or something for his efforts, but the next person up was already crawling between your legs.

Pakunoda held your thighs apart, her thumb rubbing against your clit. “Is that good, princess?”

You nodded, whining a little. “Mhm… ahh!”

You squeak when she inserts a finger, now sucking on your clit as she adds another finger in. You bucked your hips, but she keeps you still.

You cum pretty quick, the woman smiling up at you as you catch your breath. “Mm, you taste divine, (Name).”

She gave your pussy a kiss before moving away for the next person to come.

Chrollo and Shalnark were similar in the way they ate you out. They liked to make a lot of eye contact, their fingers curling inside you, sometimes chuckling on your clit as they suckled on it.

Phinks and Uvogin were rough, their big tongues filling your pussy up, their fingers stretching you out. They both groaned when your walls clenched around their fingers as you came.

Nobunaga and Shizuku were a little desperate, their tongues lapping at you and fingers thrusting into you at ungodly speeds. Although you came quick, it wasn’t as satisfying when you came the previous times.

Machi was much like Pakunoda, taking her time and making you cum on her tongue easily. She was the only on to grab your breasts, making the others jealous. They hadn’t even though of that!

By the end of the night, you were exhausted!

The pillow underneath you was soaked with your cum, your skin covered in a thin sheen of sweat. “Our sweetheart seems tired.” Phinks teased, crouching down to help you get dressed.

The group decided to sleep in the living room, and you fell asleep being cuddled by the entire troupe.

Was it easy being loved by a band of thieves? No. Was it satisfying?

Oh yes.

“This was the best Halloween ever…” you whispered into Chrollo’s chest. He smiled and kissed the top of you head.

“It really was.”

[queenpiranhadon]

okay I'm sorry but I'm in celebrity Satoru Gojo married to actress reader chokehold.

Don't know how aware you all are about the one video where Ryan Reynolds interviews Brandon Sklenar because he's playing the love interest of his wife's character and that is PEAK Gojo behavior.

You're actually in a different city while this is happening, off for an interview with Buzzfeed.

Anyways, your upcoming movie, titled In the Stars, is about a young woman named Sora who had been diagnosed with cancer, and with only a few months left to live, she decides to live the life she's always wanted. One of love.

She eventually decides to pursue one of her lifelong interests of stargazing, something she's always been interested in as a child. Sora however never got to achieve her dream of becoming an astrologist due to her father's death at age 17, having to now juggle hospital and funeral bills without a very stable job.

With only a few hours to live however, she goes camping, only to almost murder a man who encounters her campsite by accident because she was startled.

The man's name was Daichi, he was a college professor who taught astronomy and was immediately overjoyed at Sora's enthusiasm for the sky.

The two ended up becoming close friends, regularly going out to camp with each other, and slowly gaining feelings along the way.

However, they're too late.

After one last camping trip, Sora wakes up vomiting uncontrollably and Daichi worriedly takes her to the hospital.

She's hooked up to millions of tubes and liquids, but it's futile. Sora passes away, leaving Daichi to mourn her on earth, hoping she's happy in the stars.

It's a relatively cliche plot, and yet, the movie becomes such a big hit because of you. The way you portray your character with so much genuine pain and longing, is what hooked the world in from the start.

Satoru couldn't have been more proud of you.

He's just a little disgruntled that your "love story" wasn't with him.

He knew it wasn't serious, but Satoru Gojo also tended to have a jealous streak - after watching the trailer for the movie he was unimpressed, because no one who truly loves you would ever look at you that way.

However that knowledge did help him feel a little better because it was just a movie after all, just acting.

That didn't stop him from causing shenanigans though.

Your coworker was a nice guy, his name was Ren Akiyama, and he was just a few years younger than Satoru and yourself.

The interviewer exits abruptly, leaving Ren confused in his chair, only for the famous Satoru Gojo to enter the set and sit in the interviewer's chair, with some cards of his own.

Ren looks around, muttering an "Oh boy, get me out of here", as your husband clears his throat, cameras trained on him.

"So...Ren, is it? You and Mrs. Gojo seem very close, do you call her anything special, like a nickname or-"

Ren cuts him off with a shake of his head. "No sir."

The interview begins to resemble that of every father's first interrogation of his daughter boyfriend, except in very different circumstance as we see Satoru grill the poor man about his relationship with you.

It's hilarious and endearing, seeing how much Satoru loves you and his interactions with Ren are quite entertaining as well.

It's even more adorable when the press catch you and Satoru going into the theaters to watch your movie, even after watching the premiere and seeing Satoru's eyes visibly tear up as he holds you tight, watching Sora's last living moments in her hospital bed, Daichi by her side.

He really does love you so much.

A/N: I acc loved writing this omg hahah - should I write more about this??

[talaok]

At the Met

Pairing: Pedro Pascal x actress! reader

summary: You and Pedro, Hollywood's hottest couple, attend the Met Gala together, but when you find out your ex was invited too, things start going sideways.

warning: angst, jealousy, age-gap

a/n: this was a request by the lovely @vawnila but since I am delusional, I decided to merge it with yesterday's event bc this man...

Pt. 2

[ "And here they come! y/n y/l/n and Pedro Pascal, Hollywood's hottest couple!"

"wow, they look amazing" ]

You'd been to the Met before, and so had Pedro, but going as a couple was something much different, especially with all the talk you two had caused in the last six months. There wasn't a magazine or a blog that wasn't talking about your age gap or the way you'd both robbed millions of women and men of the chance to be with Hollywood's most desired bachelor and bachelorette.

The past few months had been a mess, and still, you didn't think you'd ever had that much fun.

Pedro was everything you had ever wished for in a man. he was kind and sweet and funny, and not any less handsome, he was perfect.

So when he took your hands in his as you walked up the carpet, you couldn't help but smile up at him, just for him to meet your glance with the same adoration.

The carpet was the easy part though, what actually scared you, was the dinner.

Being seated next to a bunch of celebrities you didn't know... that was your personal version of hell, but at least this year Pedro was gonna be next to you.

The first part of the dinner went well, the first moments were awkward as you had expected, but then the woman sitting opposite you broke the ice and everyone seemed to relax.

Pedro sensed your tension at times and tried to soothe you by placing his hand on your thigh, or murmuring something to your ear that most times resembled something like "We're almost done, sweetheart".

It was a good table, don't get me wrong, but there was something about knowing you were being watched and filmed and photographed by the world's most popular celebrities that always prevented you from fully calming down.

You were always on edge, only waiting for something bad to happen, until finally, your fear came to life.

You had excused yourself to go to the bathroom and were finding your way through the maze made of chairs and tables arranged in the room, when you felt a tap on your shoulder.

"Hey baby"

wait a minute,

you knew that voice.

You turned around, "Hi Nathan"

Of course you'd meet your ex here.

"Funny meeting you here" he grinned

"I had no idea you were coming"

"Neither did I about you, darling," he said, his eyes traveling up and down your body, not even pretending to not be checking you out "You're beautiful as ever" he complimented, his fingers tracing the side of your dress, and you just smiled, rolling your eyes playfully "really" he spoke, his voice lower "You're breathtaking, baby"

"thank you" You felt your cheeks get some involuntary color "You're not so bad yourself, you know?"

"why thank you" he joked "I wanted to find someone to have some fun with, but I think I might just have"

"Nathan..."

"What princess?"

You sighed "You can use my name y'know?"

"oh I know" he reassured "I just know how much you like when I call you names" he murmured, getting closer as he moved some hair away from your face "especially on some occasions"

"Nathan what are you d-"

"c'mon y/n you know what you mean to me," he said, his voice already resembling a beg "I'm not asking for anything, I'm just saying you know we could have fun... like the old times"

"Nathan I-"

"y/n I love you" he confessed, not for the first time since the breakup "You know I love you. I love you so much I can't live without you. This past year has been hell, and I know it's been the same for you. I need you y/n, and you need me, baby, we need each other." he spoke seemingly without taking a single breath, and you were frantically looking around you, praying no one was paying you two any mind "and I know you love me back, just admit it, we could start all over again, just forget all about the past" he implored.

"Nathan I have a boyfriend" you spat out

"who, that grandpa?" he mocked "I know you don't love him, he's just a-a phase, you know you should be with me. Deep down you know" 

You hadn't noticed how his hand had made its way to your arm.

"Let's go now, we can take my car and run away baby"

Your mouth gaped open but before you could speak, a barking voice intervened.

"go where?"

Your eyes traveled to your left, and just as you suspected, they met Pedro's.

Nathan, like the coward that he was, swallowed nervously as he looked back at you.

"nowhere," you said "Don't worry babe" you tried being casual, as you took a step toward your boyfriend, feeling grateful for a way out of that situation "Well it was nice seeing you Nathan, but I better go now," you forced a polite smile at him, as you intertwined your arm with your boyfriend's.

"goodbye buddy," Pedro said, in a more than slightly threatening tone.

"c'mon," you urged him, starting to walk away.

"think about what I said" Nathan spoke again, his tone deprived of all bravery all of a sudden.

You didn't even look back, just started to quicken your pace towards the table (Your need to use the bathroom had been long forgotten) when you felt Pedro tightening his arm's grip as he moved you into the trajectory of a private part of the gallery.

You frowned, once he stopped, looking around at the empty room.

"what is it?"

"What is it?" he repeated, clearly incredulous

"What?"

"What did he tell you?"

"Who"

"y/n..."

"Nathan?" you asked "Babe who cares, you know how he is, he's dumb, there's nothing I can do about it"

"tell me what he told you" you could see perfectly through this calm act.

You sighed "he told me he loves me and that I should run away with him"

"that's it?"

"Yes Pedro, that's it"

"What did you say?"

You gasped, offended and slightly annoyed "What do you think I told him, that I loved him back and to wait for me outside?!"

"What did you tell him?"

"Are you fuckin- I told him that I have a boyfriend"

He nodded perhaps satisfied "He was touching you"

"my arm" you reminded him.

"and your cheek" he reminded you too "this is the last time he does this" he decided "I'm gonna go talk to him"

"No, Pedro-" you grabbed his arm "I can deal with this on my own, plus, you're too mad, you can't go now"

"You've already dealt with this on your own, and it doesn't seem like you've made much progress"

You gasped, now actually mad "This is my problem, Pedro, you don't have anything to do with it"

"It's my problem too when it involves you"

"no, it's not."

"y/n I'm trying to help you"

"well I don't want your help, not with this"

"Why? 'cause it sure looks like you need it"

You scowled at him "fuck you"

"It's the truth y/n this guy's been bothering you since before we got together, that's not fucking normal"

"I know it isn't but I'm dealing with it in my own way"

"and I can't try my way?"

"well, I'm sorry if I don't want you to go out there and punch him, Pedro!" 

He paused, clearly as a part of him wanted to reply that he wouldn't have, another part informed him that there was a high probability he would have, in fact, punched the guy.

"y/n-"

"no you know what, I'm tired of this- this thing you do. I don't need to be saved, I can take care of myself"

"I don't doubt that, but I just wanted to help"

"you know you were not gonna help Pedro" You shot him a look "And I'm tired of this- jealousy" you sighed "I love you, Pedro, you know that, but if you don't trust me I don't understand how we could possibly have a relationship"

"I do trust you"

"then I could go out there and talk to Nathan right now?" you challenged "or you fear he might convince me, and I might run away with him?"

His jaw twitched.

"see" you breathed "just as I predicted"

" y/n-"he tried putting his hands on your waist but you stopped him.

"no, Pedro" you took a step back "Just-" you sighed "I need to be alone"

[ "Someone's coming out, it looks like... Pedro Pascal has just left the Gala"

"Where's the missus?"

"I don't see her"

"well you heard it here first folks, It looks like Pedro Pascal has just left the Met Gala with y/n y/l/n nowhere in sight" ]

Pt. 2

[nevertheless-moving]

unable to stop dwelling on the discworld trouser leg of time where, in the penultimate fight scene in Nightwatch, Carcer manages to kill teenage Sam Vimes.

Which means that the future that Duke Vimes came from can no longer exist, which means he can’t go home. Meanwhile you’ve got a bunch of history monks with stored up temporal energy, a prepared space outside of time, and the need to do some desperate damage control before the Auditors get involved. Death shows up, reality is unweaving, Sam is reading Carcer his discworld miranda rights because what else is he supposed to do.

and finally, with little other option, the monks de-age Sam so he fits the time period and send him back out into the fray.

(they didn't call it deageing of course. His memory is hazy, splintered during that terrible in between moment, They....took the time out of him? Sanded away the edges of his self for a terrible, workable fit? It...wasn't a good feeling.)

Just—damn. Sam Vimes having to live his whole crapsack life over again, but this time as his disillusioned-reillusioned, unwillingly-character-developed, noir-epic, Duke of Ankh, Commander Sir Samuel Vimes self. 

Younger (Older? He's never felt so Old, His steps so Childlike, reality twisting in his gut like one of Dibbler's pies) Sam Vimes walking around in a haze after the revolution. Desperate to go home, knowing he can’t. Wanting to drink. Knowing he can’t.

The whole precinct feels pity, he really took Keel’s death hard, hardly speaks except to do his job. Eventually he has to grit his teeth and start being present, because what else is there to do?

Resists the urge to drink until Colon takes the whole watch out to celebrate because -he’s going to be a father!

Come on Sammy, one drink won’t kill you— and after the first drink he’s cracking jokes and after the second hes smiling and after the third hes honestly the life of the party and sometime after that he’s crying about how he was going to be a father and my wife would be ashamed if she saw me drinking like this and— 

Oh shit, Did anyone else know he had a wife?? A PREGNANT wife??? What—aren’t you like 12—no you're 17 now aren't you but when did—

You guys n’ver met ’er—oh gods none if you ev’n know ‘er, is jus’ me...

What—when did you lose—

I lost her the same damn day I los’ ev’rythin else, whadya think...bleeding Carcer...the fuckin revolution...

So! That! Sam only vaguely remembers the night, but rumors travel faster than light on the disc, so by the next day the whole damn city knows about poor Sam brung low by the loss of his poor, tragic, pregnant wife, so young to be a widower, and the Seamstresses nod because they already knew, don’t ask them how, somethings you just have to know in that trade.

And his mother—I don’t know, sue me, I’m a time travel fiend but there’s something deeply intriguing about a man meeting his dead parent, who is somewhat younger than him, and stepping into the old relationship like a badly fitting thing that's supposed to fit well. She would know, right? How would she deal with her son’s impossible grief? Maybe she wouldn’t know—he spent most of the time out of the house, running with different street gangs, maybe he avoids her until she dies and lives with the guilt twice over. God, we don’t even know her name. There’s just so much narrative and emotional potential that I don’t even know where to start.

When he’s on duty, which is most time - it’s agonizing because at first he remembers cases, saves lives that would have been lost. But the more time passes, the hazier his memory because in the original timeline he was becoming an alcoholic. Fuck! A kid dies and he could have saved her if he hadn’t been such a drunk, if he had just remembered where the asshole lived, but it’s all a haze, and he wants to drown out his guilt, but that’s what caused this in the first place.

Good young Sammy, who spends his rare off-time in dusty libraries (and yes, the irony that he’s apparently Carrot now is not lost on him) reading gods-only-know.

It’s not like he can ask the wizards for help, cutthroat and vicious as they are now in the not-so-distant-past.

Good young Sam, who...talks to the Broken Drum’s pet Bouncer like he’s a real person and not a dumb rock? That’s a bit weird, but he’s a bit of a funny guy.

Good old Sam, who believed the testimony of the dwarf who said the humans were trying to rob him and let the dwarf go??

the PROBLEMS this man would cause, good grief. Can you imagine a moderately progressive middle aged man with some degree of begrudging diversity and equity training that he did, for all his sins, pay attention to, suddenly going back to like, 1990, going back just 30 years, and going...oh damn this is kind of fucked up, no man you can’t say that, holy shit.

Except Sam’s lived through even more rapidly shifting social moroes! There’s no seamstress guild, there’s no women allowed inside the university, there’s no black ribboner’s society. People hunted trolls for their teeth! But Sam can’t just unlearn everything, and he can’t shut up, and he has no real luck and anyway he would absolutely get himself (temporarily) fired.

FUCK. Sam has no idea what to do with that. None. Zero clue. Wanders around in a haze until that dwarf he saved from police brutality finds him and insists on repaying the debt. No, he insists, do you have any idea what debt means to a dwarf?

“Sort-of?” he replies hesitantly, and that honest admission of incomplete knowledge shows a hell of a lot more respect and understanding than any self proclaimed dwarf-expert ever did.

Gets a job as a surface man, hauling rocks into the city. It’s backbreaking work, but, in true Discworld fashion, it’s also one hell of a workout (again the irony of being Carrot is not lost him. he freezes for a minute while hauling a rock cart, when he remembers he's technically Lost Nobility too, in a strict sense, but someone curses at him in the street and he's comfortingly grounded)

And here is where this au slides into a SPECTACULAR romantic comedy, BEAR WITH ME. Because in his time on the Watch he’s already done noir, action adventure, war story, detective who dunnit, psychological horror, but guards guards only allowed him to be a romance protagonist in an extremely limited context.

Give me righteous, twenty-something-looking, can’t-say-he-doesn’t-have-style, young Sam Vimes, not an alcoholic,  being fed three square meals a day by his dwarven forced found family, hauling rocks. He is startled to find him bumping his head on a low hanging bar that he doesn’t think used to be there, eventually realizing that he’s an inch or two taller than he remembers. Huh. Guess all that bearhuggers really did stunt his growth.

Still doesn’t get what some of the looks from women he’s getting are about, sure, he’s dirty but so is everyone else. Fine, he took his shirt off, but it’s hot out, there’s far wrinklier than him hauling heavy loads, get a life. 

Happens to glance in the Ankh one day when it’s particularly slow and shiny and is startled to realize that he might be turning heads for a different reason. Oh. Right, not that he was ever a heartbreaker, but he did alright for himself... when he was a younger and his face hadn’t been broken so many times. Which...it isn't now.

Is mildly disturbed by the revelation.

Especially once things blow over at the precinct and what with high mortality rates, he ends up with getting hired again. The boys are delighted to have him back, nevermind that he’s an odd one, noone is ever quite in your corner like Vimsey, absence makes the heart fonder, no one else works that hard, and he’s not even competition for promotion. All around great guy, we should set him up with somebody and just, no.

It just keeps getting worse! He’s literate! He’s a feminist! He believes abuse victims! He’s got a tragic backstory! He’s unreasonably good in a fistfight! He’s kind to animals! Word gets around that there’s a good man on the watch and he’s just waiting for a good woman to come snap him up. The widower excuse doesn’t hold people off completely, and for some it’s its own sort-of appeal. 

Things REALLY become stressful after he rescues that carriage full of noblewoman.

What’s he supposed to do? Let them get robbed? Or worse? Chasing down and beating up 10 goons is as easy as beating up one, when they’re that stupid, getting separated like that, drunk and distracted, and he knows these streets better than anyone, really it’s nothing. And oh lord he’s Modest too.

I mean, they were genuinely greatful, as genuine as people like that are capable of being, the skill having grown rusty. And then there is something...magnetic about the man. An air of command.

So, soon enough you get Lady Marigold of Marigrave calling on Treckle Road for that gallant young officer who rescued them, she really needs to thank him. And Viscountess Elanor Thitzferal specifically requesting that he guard her at her next soiree. And Baroness Julieta van Shoeholten insisting that he come to her home while her husband’s away, for... manly protection.

Aaaah just zero sympathy from the guys. None. 'It’s become a competition, they’re just trying to see who can get me into bed first, it’s like I’m a piece of meat, you can’t send me sir, the Marquess greeted me in a nightee last time you made me go to—' and 'small gods Vimes are you even listening to yourself, shut the hell up'.

Simultaneous to this, (again this is several years into the timeline) swamp dragon accessories come into style. Which means abandoned swamp dragons scrounging on the street. Vimes takes one back to his apartment, blows his paycheck on dragon medicine, and eventually, heart in his chest, brings it to the Ramkin estate. The sunshine orphanage doesn’t even exist yet and he’s just standing outside the gates like an idiot, what is he thinking. Turns around, but her carriage is pulling up and—

well. they meet. it's cute. he's never felt so young. he's never felt so old, too old for her, too poor—

and certainly her thoughts linger too long on the awkward, kindly, handsome young commoner, but is it any wonder she doesn't quite connect it to the stern, dangerous, sexy young guard the ladies seem to be in some quiet, cuthroat competition over?

i have this gorgeous, absurd scene in my head in which Vimes is strong armed into standing guard at some high society soiree and one of the pushiest ladies insists he dance with here, or, if he prefers, if he's not confident about his skills, he can dance with her in-private at her home and he’s like [grinding teeth, looking for a way out, seeinf one] “I would be honored to dance with you.”

Steps right into some ultra-complex dance with multiple partner swaps (she never thought he'd pick this one, devilishly intimidating to one not strictly trained, and you barely spend anytime with your first partner).

But he does alright. Better than alright, for a common man, sometimes misstepping but his hands and feet always end up where they need to be. Raises several eyebrows part way into the song because he's throuwing in some slightly scandalous, no innovative, extra lifts and twirls that wouldn't become fashionable for another decade or two. Who even is that guy? Some out of towner? No, no he's in a guards uniform...how very strange.

Gets to Sybll and she's used to embarrassment during these dances, she tries to get out of them when she can... but can't always. Men awkwardly skipping the lifts, or worse, trying and failing. But him — oh it's him, the one who helped little Erold, and looked at her like—like—well like she was someone beautiful. And he's doing it again, and he's strong and there's a quiet moment where she's in the air, they lock eyes, and the rest of the room melts away.

And then the partners change again, the moment ended.

Just...living throught it all again. To the left, a dance he almost knows the steps to, throwing others off balance with erratic moves , honest mistakes, and delibrate stepping on toes. Improvising. Ruining. Improving. Getting far, far too much attention.

Hes almost excited when the first assassains start coming after him. It's like a hobby.

Everyone tells him he should get a hobby.

Interactions with young vetinari...I don't have the energy to write it all down, the slow circling in on each other, both burning with the need to fix the city, save it, their city.

needless to say he ends up fired again, life under real threat after offending some high lord.

Conveniently enough he has an employment opportunity- bodyguard to fucking Vetinari on his 'grand sneer.' The bastard knows vimes isn't what he seems, though sam is pretty sure that he doesnt know the exacts.

Vetinari hypothesis:(the ghost of keel? Keels son, with some hereditary curse? Or a larger spirit of justice possessing a string of unrelated souls? He knows things he shouldn't- mind reader? Fortune teller? Havelock once arranged for a wizard to bump into him on the street, the magical fool gave an odd double look and then muttered something about destiny looping in on itself giving him a headache. Destiny? Lost noble? And hes far too familiar with sybyl, one of the few bearable noblewomen in this city. And his thoughts on guilds, when havelock can trip him into speaking... Most of all, if hes reading him at all correctly (for all the mystery hes not that hard to read, unless thats a very clever cover) then it seems that behind those dark haunted eyes is Respect. Loyalty. For vetinari. What an interesting man. A puzzling asset. An intriguing threat. )

Did I mention the timeline is changing, healing slowly around the place where it was torn? Healing enough around scars to perhaps get some flexibility back, with some painful stretches and...massaging of said scar tissue?

And hes heading to unresting uberwald, a place where a werewolf pack still hunts humans and, truely unrelated but perhaps equally exhausting, an eldritch spirit of vengeance just might be looking to stretch its legs in a hapless vessel?

Opening drabble Vimes Vetinari Meta (Unwell) Scene from the Uberwald Grand Sneer

[thetriumphantpanda]

nobody sees, nobody knows

Alright, here we are, me adding my two cents into the dbf!Joel trope which we all love so much. I've read so many incredible fics like this so hopefully mine can stand up with them all. This will be a series, so strap in for more of our favourite neighbourhood DILF.

Pairing | dbf!Joel x female reader

Summary | Back to Texas with a degree under your belt and a school girl fantasy to fuck your dad's best friend. What could go wrong?

Warnings | I mean, dbf!Joel comes with his own warning right? Other than that, swearing, alcohol consumption, age gap (Reader is 25, Joel is 36), dirty talk, and fingering.

Word Count | 3.3K

PART 2 | MAIN MASTERLIST

There was something about summer in Texas that just hit differently. The way the heat crawled on your skin from the moment you woke up to the moment you tried to sleep at night. The way your father used it as an excuse to cook primarily on the grill, regardless of the food, and the way your mother always made sure the fridge was stocked with cold drinks. The way traffic seemed to cease to exist during the high points of the day, meaning you went to the store every day at midday to buy ice cream. The haze you got from sipping cold beer by your parents’ pool which made you want to do reckless things like you’d done in New York before you realized that the beady eyes of your parents would be all over you if you tried. Reckless things like tell Joel Miller you’d wanted to fuck him for years. 

Every time you’d come home from school, and he’d be there you could have sworn he’d just gotten more and more attractive. The last time you were home, for Christmas and New Year’s, you could have sworn he’d started at the gym, his biceps bulging in the arms of his fitted t-shirt, when your dad commented on it, he's chalked it down to particularly heavy lifting on the job he was working then. He’d had his hair cut in a way that made his face even more handsome and you’re pretty sure the last few times you’d been home he’d noticed how you’d flourished too. 

There were moments where you’d catch his eyes as they drew themselves up your legs, or the time you decided to test your theory and wear a low-cut top and your best bra to a dinner party. His eyes had trained on your chest for most of the night, there was a moment where you’d stood up and leaned over the table to pick up the salt instead of asking him to pass it. He’d choked on his drink and your dad had slapped his back to try and help him. At least you knew he was thinking like you. 

Neither of you had tried crossing the line though. Past the point of no return. You wanted him to make the first move, save yourself the embarrassment of rejection if it came, but it felt like waiting for Joel Miller to kiss you was like waiting for rain in the drought Texas was currently experiencing. Useless and disappointing. You wished sometimes that you could burrow into his brain and figure out what it was that he was really thinking about you. You suspected there would be some code of honour he was sticking to because you were his best friend’s daughter – sure it might complicate things, but you weren’t going to be back in Texas forever – what was the worst that could happen during the secret, torrid affair you’d been cooking up in your head since you arrived back from college a week ago? 

 “Did you hear me when I spoke to you?” Your mother’s voice pulled you from the daydream you were having whilst polishing the cutlery. 

“Sorry mom, I was miles away.” 

“I know!” She exclaims, “I don’t know what’s gotten into you since you came back, you’ve been away with the fairies,” She sighs, “I said, once you’ve set the cutlery out back can you help your dad with filling the fridge with the beer, please?” 

You hum in agreement which is enough to send her back to the endless chopping she seems to be doing at the kitchen counter. It was just a cookout with the Millers and few other family friends to celebrate your return, but you think your mother thinks she’s catering for a garden party at the White House with the number of sides she’s preparing. 

You make quick work of the rest of the cutlery, wanting to avoid any more questions about why you seem miles away all the time – you can’t exactly tell your mother it’s because you’re thinking about how Joel might eat your pussy.

“Need any help, old man?” You greet your dad in the garage, he’s on his knee’s pulling out bottles of Budweiser to stack in the fridge. 

“Here, grab these and start putting them in,” He’s smiling, he’s always been an overly happy and laid-back man, “I hope we’ve got enough in.” 

“How many people are you expecting?” You chuckle, taking a bottle from him to add to the growing number already stacked on the shelves. 

“Probably ten or so,” Hu shrugs, “But one of those people is Tommy Miller and he’s not changed a bit since you’ve been away.” 

“Between your drinks and mom’s sides we could host the entire neighborhood.” You joke. 

You continue to fill the fridge up with drinks until there’s no room left. Your dad stores the leftover crates next to it for refilling throughout the evening, “Now, go and make yourself look nice, everyone’ll be here soon.” 

*

You’d be lying if you said that you hadn’t picked your shortest and lowest cut dress for the evening. It was a pale blue colour, with pink flowers dotted about the material. It fell to your mid-thigh and you had to keep reminded yourself to kneel down instead of bending over, in case people who you didn’t want to look caught an eyeful of the scant lace covering your ass. 

There are a few people milling around already, cold beers in hand, mainly some of your dad’s older friends, who have all congratulated you on graduating and then moved on to talk about mundane neighborhood gossip. 

“Now, where is that smartass?” You hear from the sliding doors; it’s Tommy and he’s bounding over to you to give you a hug. 

He scoops you up into a bone breaking hug, “Congratulation’s girl, your dad said you graduated top of the class!” 

He’s set you down and you can see Joel standing awkwardly next to him, “He’s exaggerating, I wasn’t top, although pretty close to it,” You turn to Joel, “Hey there.” He bends down to give you a one-armed hug and a peck on the cheek. 

“Good to see you back, sweetheart.” 

“Good to see you too, Joel,” You chirp in response, “Where’s Sarah?” 

“She’s at camp for the first part of the summer,” He explains, “Back in a couple’a weeks, she’ll be thrilled to see you again.” 

“Boys!” Your dad’s booming voice interrupts your conversation, “Good to see you both!” He turns to you, “Why don’t you go and get these two some beers, I need to speak to them about fixin’ up the attic.” 

You turn quietly and head for the garage. Of course, you’d become waitress at your own welcome home party. It takes no time at all for you to come back with three beers, two for the Miller brothers and one for yourself. You hand them off wordlessly, but you don’t miss how Joel grips the bottle just above your fingers, brushing against them. Of all the places for him to grab the bottle, that couldn’t be a coincidence, could it? 

The rest of the evening goes by as expected. You spend most of it running around helping your mom set the food out, fetching more beers for everyone and trying to field questions from everyone about what you’re going to do in Texas with an MA in Archival Studies. You bite your tongue every time, and reply with something like, “I think I’ll probably work in an archive.” 

The night is winding down, your mom already in bed having finished her wine too quickly, your dad sat outside in the quickly fading sunlight with Joel and Tommy and a few other stragglers. It fell to you to make aa start on the dishes, which is what you were currently doing. Rinsing them off over the sink before stacking them in the dishwasher, pausing long enough each time to take a sip of lukewarm beer. 

“They got you tidyin’ up your own party?” You hear from behind you. It’s Joel. 

“I’m the only one sober enough not to break anything.” You shrug without turning around to face him. 

“Seems a little unfair if you ask me, sweetheart.” 

“Well, why don’t you make yourself useful and help?” You counter, “Then I can be sat outside drinkin’ beer with you all.” 

You hear his boots on the floor and then he’s next to you, reaching around to grab the pile of cutlery on the side, he opens the dishwasher further to put the cutlery in their designated tray and then stop, “Has no-one ever taught you how to stack a dishwasher?” 

You pause in your rinsing to look up at him for the first time, “What do you mean?” 

“This is awful sweetheart,” He chuckles, “You’ve got the bowls and plates in the wrong place – you’ll be doing three washes if you carry on like this.” 

“Well, go on then, maestro, show me how to stack it.” 

He’s unloading everything you’ve put in so far, apart from what you suspect he thinks was his expertly placed cutlery, and you’re watching as he’s stacking in completely differently to you. Annoyingly he’s not wrong, the way he’s doing it means you’ll likely fit everything in at once, “Can’t believe you’ve lived on your own for five years and didn’t learn how to stack a dishwasher.” 

“Joel, I was in a dingy studio apartment in the ass end of New York, you think I had a dishwasher?” 

“Well, consider yourself taught now, I don’t ever wanna see a dishwasher looking anything less than perfect, you hear me?” 

“Loud and clear, Mr Miller.” You watch as his eyebrows raise at your new greeting, oh. He liked that. 

He picks up your almost empty beer bottle and hands it to you, “Go on, down the rest,” He’s grinning, “Then go and sit down and I’ll get you a fresh one.” 

You decide to push it a little further, “Yes, sir.” You watch as he swallows deeply at your words before you’re brushing past him, far too close than necessary to go and sit down. 

It’s another hour of sitting around in the garden before everyone else is gone – Tommy is finishing off his beer and telling Joel he’ll be heading to his to crash. 

“I’m going to call it a night too,” Your dad says, “Stay and finish your drink though Joel, there’s no rush, I’m sure this one can keep you company with her stories from New York.” 

And then you’re alone with him, finally. He’s taking a long drink from his beer bottle, which you mirror, realizing suddenly that you didn’t eat much, and you’ve drunk far more than you probably should. You’re not drunk, but there’s a pleasant buzz through your body that’s making your eyelids a little heavy. 

When the light goes off in your parents’ room, you figure it’s safe, “I’ve seen you staring at me, you know.” 

He doesn’t miss a beat, “You make it hard not to, sweetheart.” 

“Do you want me, Joel?” You don’t know where you’ve come from all of a sudden, but this confident girl isn’t someone you recognize. 

“It ain’t a question of wantin’ you sweetheart, it’s a question of doin’ the right thing.” You watch as he rubs his hand over his forehead in frustration. 

“But you do,” You push him, “Want me?” 

“Course I do,” He’s swallowing thickly again, just like he did in the kitchen, “But I can’t have you.” 

“Says who?” You pry. 

“Says the fact that I’m one’a your dad’s best friends, not to mention far too old for you.” He’s looking at you and taking another big drink from his bottle, like if he finishes, he can leave you alone. 

“No-one has to know,” You shrug, “Could be our little secret?” 

“You been readin’ too many of them romance novels,” He snorts, “It don’t work like that, if they find out they’ll fucking kill me.” He’s tilting his head to the window of your parents’ room.

You stand from your seat opposite him, walking around the table to stop just in front of Joel, “Come on Joel, have a little fun for once.” 

There’s a moment where you can see the cogs whirring in his brain, trying to weigh up being shot for touching his best friend’s little girl and finally satisfying the craving he’d wanted for a while now. Then, he’s putting his bottle down on the floor next to the chair he’s sat in. You watch closely as he shifts his position to sit more towards the edge of the chair, before one of his hands reaches out to grip the back of your thigh, just above the crease of your knee.

“You’ll be the death of me,” He mumbles before he looks up at you, “C’mere.” 

He’s pulling gently on your leg as he shifts back in the seat, guiding you so your hips are straddling his. You try not to press yourself too fully into him just yet, letting your clothed heat rest above his lap. One of his arms comes to wrap around the back of your waist, the other tangling in your hair at the back of your head whilst he looks at you with eyes that say he wants to devour you. 

“You gonna kiss me, Mr Miller?” You ask, innocently. 

“Oh darlin’, I’m gonna do so much more than that.” 

His head is tilting to the side and looking up at you from your higher ground, perched on his lap. Then his lips are on yours and God all those years of longing were worth it. They’re pressed tentatively against your own, but you can feel they’re slightly chapped. His hand resting in your hair grips a little tighter and he’s moving your head slightly so that when he opens his mouth against yours it’s the easiest thing for you to open yours right back and let his tongue into your mouth. 

You let out a gasp, swallowed into his own mouth when his hands drop back to your thighs before they’re trailing up the small skirt of your dress to cup the cheeks of your ass, “You wear this for me?” He pulls away, speaking before he’s trailing his lips along your jawline, “Thought you’d get me worked up in this tiny little thing, naughty girl?” 

“It worked, didn’t it?” 

He huffs a breath out of his nose as if to say, of course it did. He’s trailing his hot mouth down your neck now, dragging his teeth along your skin before licking with his tongue to soothe any red marks he might leave. Your head is thrown back as his hands drag you down so you’re sitting flush against him. You can’t help but notice the bulge in his jeans when your clothed pussy makes contact with him. 

You’re whining as his hands are on your hips under your dress, the hot skin of his hands setting fire to you, “What do you want, pretty girl?” He asks, his tongue trailing down to the valley between your tits. 

“Fingers,” You rasp, “Make me come with your fingers Joel.” 

He lets out a low chuckle against your skin, “Needy little thing, already beggin’ me to finger fuck her.” 

But he’s already obliging your request, one of his hands is moving down from your hip to the front of your panties, running his thumb over the material from top to bottom, “God, I can feel how wet you are already,” You look down and he’s grinning, “I’m gonna take these off, sweetheart, but you gotta promise to keep quiet okay?” 

You nod in agreement before you’re lifting your hips up, just enough for Joel to hook his fingers in the waistband of your underwear and pull them down enough so his hands can touch you. He mimics the same movement he’d done over the material, this time his fingers touching the bare skin of you seam and he’s groaning when he feels the slick gathered near your tight hole. 

“God, you really are wet, aren’t ya?” He chuckles, a flush creeping over your cheeks, “Ain’t nothing to be embarrassed about sweetheart,” He reassures, “Means I’m doin’ somethin’ right.” 

You feel one of his thick fingers slip inside you, just a little, before he’s dragging the slick he’s gathered up to run light touches over your clit. You bite down on your lip to keep you from crying out into the dark, hips bucking into his hand to try and get more friction from his fingers. He takes the hint and is pressing his finger more firmly into your bundle of nerves and it’s becoming increasingly more difficult to keep quiet. 

When Joel’s hand drops from your clit you almost cry from frustration, put then he’s sinking two of his fingers straight into your soaking pussy and the relief is palpable. He’s moving them in and out of you, curling them in just the right way that has your hips moving in time with him, literally fucking yourself on his fingers. You let your head fall into the crook of his neck, placing kisses to his skin as you ride his fingers. 

“This what you wanted, pretty girl?” He asks, his free hand coming to cup the back of your head against his neck, at least this way you could make some noise – testing out your theory you let out a throaty moan, listening carefully as his skin muffles most of the sound. 

“I need… god Joel, my clit, please.” 

With his fingers still buried inside you, working you to the edge, his thumb moves to your clit, resuming the circles his finger had been drawing over it before, “I can feel your pussy gettin’ tight around my fingers,” He’s turned his head so it’s buried in the hair at the side of your head, “You gonna come for me, sweetheart?” 

You push back from him a little, looking down between your bodies where you can see his hand working you and that’s really all it takes. Your legs are shaking and you’re biting down on your lip hard enough that you can taste blood as pleasure bursts through you – not even you had made yourself come like this. Ever. Joel’s fingers have stilled inside you, but he’s still tracing your clit with gentle movements of his thumb, reveling in the way you jerk through the aftershocks of your orgasm. 

“Did so well for me, pretty girl.” He coos at you once he’s pulled his hand from your pussy. 

You’ve collapsed onto his chest to catch your breath, but you’re already subconsciously grinding your hips into his, God you want more. You’re about to reach for his belt when you can feel something vibrating in the pocket of his jeans. 

He’s mumbling an apology, lifting you just enough to fish his phone from his pocket. He answers without looking at who is calling. You can hear Tommy’s voice through the phone from your place, draped over Joel’s lap. 

“You just turn it to the side, jackass,” Joel is mumbling in answer to Tommy’s question on how to work his shower, “You’ve used it a million times,” Tommy say’s something you can quite make out, “No, not that one, the one underneath it,” Joel is sighing, “You were not this drunk when you left, if I find you’ve finished the good whiskey I’m gonna kill you,” Another sigh to a question you couldn’t quite hear, “Fine, I’ll be there in a minute.” 

Disappointment is pooling in your stomach. You don’t want him to go, not when there’s so much unfinished business here, “I gotta go, sweetheart.” He’s mumbling, pressing a chaste kiss to your lips. 

“But what about this?” You ask, reaching between you to cup his cock through his jeans, “Let me help you.” 

His hand is gripping your wrist, “I would love nothin’ more, but I gotta go before Tommy floods my house,” Another kiss to your lips, “Next time.” 

“You want to do this again?” You ask, almost surprised. 

He takes the hand that had been buried in your pussy not minutes before, lifting the fingers he’d fucked you with to his mouth before sucking them right in front of your face, “Now I’ve gotta taste for you, sweetheart?” He raises an eyebrow, “Of course I wanna do this again.” 

[swiftiethatlovesf1]

Anything for Toto Wolff with wife reader including their son, Jack!!! Fluff. Thanks!! :))

Hii I hope you enjoy my first request as a one-shot about Toto :)

The time you've been waiting for has arrived—summer break. Jack doesn't have school, and Toto can finally relax even though he always says his work never ends. Your family is together, and you couldn't be happier.

This year, you've decided to return to the Maldives, the paradise where you and Toto celebrated your honeymoon five years ago. Time has flown by so quickly. At first, people judged your relationship with Toto because of the age gap, but with time and Jack's presence, you've learned to ignore others' opinions and cherish every second of your love.

The gentle hum of the seaplane filled the air as it glided over the crystal-clear waters of the Indian Ocean, the endless expanse of blue dotted with the green jewels of the Maldives' islands. You glanced over at Jack, his eyes wide with wonder as he pressed his face against the window, marveling at the view below. Toto, sitting beside you, reached over and squeezed your hand, his touch warm and reassuring. The excitement was palpable, and you couldn't help but feel a surge of happiness.

As the seaplane descended toward the private island resort where you had spent your honeymoon, memories flooded back. The island had been a sanctuary for you and Toto, a place where you could escape the world and revel in your love. Now, returning with Jack made the experience even more special, a testament to the life you had built together.

The moment you stepped off the seaplane, the familiar scent of saltwater and tropical flowers enveloped you. Jack let out a delighted laugh as he ran ahead, his feet kicking up sand. You and Toto followed hand in hand, savoring the warm sand beneath your toes.

The villa was just as you remembered, with its open-air design allowing the ocean breeze to flow through. Jack's eyes lit up at the sight of the infinity pool merging with the sea beyond. "Can we go swimming, Mommy? Please?" he begged, his excitement infectious.

"Of course, sweetheart," you replied, ruffling his hair. "But let's unpack first and get settled in."

As you and Toto unpacked, you couldn't help but steal glances at him. He looked as handsome as ever, his hair slightly tousled from the journey, a relaxed smile on his lips that seemed reserved just for you. He caught you staring and raised an eyebrow, a playful glint in his eyes. "What are you thinking about, mein Liebchen?"

"Just how lucky I am," you replied, stepping closer to wrap your arms around his waist. "To be here with you and Jack. To have this life."

He leaned down, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead. "I'm the lucky one," he murmured. "You've given me everything I could ever want."

Later that evening, after a long swim and a delicious dinner, the three of you settled on the beach to watch the sunset. Jack built sandcastles nearby, his laughter filling the air as the waves lapped at the shore. You leaned against Toto, his arm around your shoulders, drawing you close.

"Do you remember our first night here?" you asked, looking up at him.

He chuckled softly. "How could I forget? We danced under the stars, and later made love under them."

A blush covered your cheeks as you remembered that magical night and the years you've shared. "Through everything, you've been my rock."

"And you, mine," he replied, his gaze intense. "I love you more each day."

As the sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sky in shades of pink and orange, you felt a profound sense of contentment. Jack ran over, plopping down between you and Toto, a tired but happy smile on his face.

"This is the best day ever," he declared, snuggling against you.

You exchanged a look with Toto, your hearts swelling with love for this beautiful, perfect moment. The future stretched out before you, full of promise and joy. No matter what came your way, you knew you would face it together, as a family.

[carpe-mamilia]

Ghosts’ Larry Rickard Explains Why They Chose the Captain’s First Name

Photo: Monumental,Guido Mandozzi

It couldn’t be a joke. That was one rule laid down by the Ghosts creators when it came to choosing a first name for Willbond’s character. Until series five, the WWII ghost had been known only as The Captain – a mystery seized upon by fans of the show.

“It was the question we got asked more than anything. His name,” actor and writer Larry Rickard tells Den of Geek. “Once we got to series three, you could see that we were deliberately cutting away and deliberately avoiding it. We were fuelling the fire because we knew at some point we’d tell them.”

In “Carpe Diem”, the episode written by Rickard and Ben Willbond that finally reveals The Captain’s death story, they did tell us. After years of guessing, clue-spotting and debate, Ghosts revealed that The Captain’s first name is James. At the same time, we also learned that James’ colleague Lieutenant Havers’ first name was Anthony.

The ordinariness of those two names, says Rickard, is the point.

“The only thing we were really clear about is that we didn’t want one of those names that only exists in tellyland. It shouldn’t be ‘Cormoran’ or ‘Endeavour’. They should just be some men’s names and they’re important to them. The point was that they were everyday.”

Choosing first names for The Captain and Havers was a long process not unlike naming a baby, Rickard agrees. “It almost comes down to looking at the faces of the characters and saying, what’s right?”

“We talked for ages. For a long time I kept thinking ‘Duncan and James’, and then I was like ah no! That would have turned it into a gag and been awful!” Inescapably in the minds of a certain generation, Duncan James is a member of noughties boyband Blue. “Maybe with Anthony I was thinking of Anthony Costa!” Rickard says in mock horror, referencing another member of the band.

Lieutenant Havers wasn’t just The Captain’s second in command while stationed at Button House; he was also the man James loved. Because homosexuality was criminalised in England during James’ lifetime, he was forced to hide his feelings for Anthony from society, and to some extent even from himself.

In “Carpe Diem”, the ghosts (mistakenly) prepare for the last day of their afterlives, prompting The Captain to finally tell his story. Though not explicit about his sexual identity, the others understand and accept what he tells them – and led by Lady Button, all agree that he’s a brave man.

Getting the balance right of what The Captain does and doesn’t say was key to the episode. “It wasn’t just a personal choice of his to go ‘I’m going to remain in the closet’,” explains Rickard. “There wasn’t an option there to explore the things that either of them felt. That couldn’t be done back then – there are so many stories which have come out since the War about the dangers of doing that.

“We wanted to tell his personal story but also try to ensure that there was a level at which you understood why they couldn’t be open, that even in this moment where he’s finally telling the other ghosts his story, he never comes out and says it overtly because that would be too much for him as a character from that time.

“He says enough for them to know, and enough for him to feel unburdened but it’s in the fact that they’re using their first names which militarily they would never have done, and in the literal passing of the baton”.

The baton is a bonus reveal when fans learned that The Captain’s military stick wasn’t a memento of his career, but of Havers. As James suffers a fatal heart attack during a VE day celebration at Button House, Anthony rushes to his side and the stick passes from one to the other as they share a moment of tragic understanding.

“From really early on, we had the idea that anything you’re holding [when you die] stays with you. So it wasn’t just your clothes you were wearing, we had the stuff with Thomas’ letter reappearing in his pocket and so on. And the assumption being that it was something The Captain couldn’t put down, it felt so nice to be able to say it was something he didn’t want to put down.”

Rickard lists “Carpe Diem”, co-written with Ben Willbond, among his series five highlights. He’s pleased with the end result, praises Willbond’s performance, and loved being on set to see Button House dressed for the 1940s. He’s particularly pleased that a checklist of moments they wanted to land with the audience all managed to be included. “Normally something’s fallen by the wayside just because of the way TV’s made, it’s always imperfect or it’s slightly rushed, but it feels like it’s all there.”

Rickard and Willbond also knew by this point in the show’s lifetime, that they could trust Ghosts fans to pick up on small details. “Nothing is missed,” he says. “Early on, you’re always thinking, is that going to get across? But once we got to series five, there are little tiny things within corners of shots and you know that’s going to be spotted. Particularly in that very short exchange between Havers and the Captain. We worried less about the minutiae of it because you go, that’s going to be rewound and rewatched, nothing will be missed.”

The team were also grateful they’d resisted the temptation to tell The Captain’s story sooner. “We’d talked about it every series since series two, whether or not now was the time, but because he’s such a hard and starchy character in a lot of ways you needed the time to understand his softer side I think before you had that final honest beat from him.”

“What a ridiculously normal name to have so much weight put on it for five years,” laughs Rickard fondly. “Good old James.”

From Den of Geek

[icallhimjoey]

no no no no no NO no NO! NO! joe can NOT get away with this! he's gonna deny us our *fun* isn't he? this absolute bastard can NOT think that this is an acceptable way to keep us around! NO!

you know what? you're right. you're so very, very right. Wordcount: 3.3K

---

All The Aces

part one - part two - part three - part four - part five

Joe was wrong.

Joe was wrong, but... he wasn’t stupid, as it turned out.

So that first time, you hadn’t really fully realised what was happening, which – fine. Who could blame you? And you would argue that, the next two times after, it also wasn’t really your fault that you hadn’t caught on...

The fourth time; obvious. You would’ve been an absolute idiot had you not put the pieces together... which, you had, so, you also weren’t stupid.

And also, if it wasn’t for Izzy, maybe it would’ve all clicked into place on the third time.

It was just that... Joe went about it a little too calculated at first, the sneaky fucker. Likely because he was also testing the waters, trying to figure out what he could get away with.

And.

Well.

The answer was: A Lot, Apparently. But again; who could blame you? Joe wasn’t stupid.

Joe wasn’t stupid at all.

When he’d buzzed you up into his flat whilst he was making dinner, you’d barged in with a million things on your mind. All of them extremely negative and ultimately: unimportant.

“I know you’ve not invited me over to just rant at you for ages, but, can I just rant at you for ages?” You dropped your bags right where you were standing.

Joe, spatula and pan in hand, eyes on the food, went, “Ages?”

“Okay, fine. A minute. Can I rant at your for a minute?”

You hadn’t even said hello to each other, priorities elsewhere right now. This shit was on your mind and you needed it off your mind.

Joe’s eyes quickly found his oven timer and he reached for it to set it. To a minute. Because he was a comical genius, you see.

“All right, one minute…. And, go!”

You ignored the stupid joke and just, unleashed. There was some work shit, some small annoying things that had frustrated you throughout the day, but when you got your phone out to read a text thread between you and a childhood friend, you really got into it.

The oven timer went ignored. It beeped, but Joe just silently turned it off and put it to the side. You were in the middle of a sentence and whatever the problem was, this seemed important to you.

He knew it was all petty shit you likely already had all the answers to, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t listen.

Joe tried his best to follow along. Really, he did. But he was also finishing your dinner, peeling potatoes and cutting vegetables, and you were going a hundred miles an hour, straying off the main story every ten seconds to explain whatever was going on better. Which, it didn’t. It only confused Joe more, but he nodded along. Said things like, Oh my god, no way and what the fuck at all the right moments like a good friend would do. Like a good boyfriend would do.

“It’s not my fault we’re not as close as we used to be, she went off and had four children- four, Joe. Four.”

You’d started pacing.

“And then she went, “oh you still living with that girl?” That girl – Izzy, we’re talking my best friend since uni, Izzy. That girl. What the fuck does she think she’s even saying?”

Arms were flying, and Joe silently covered a pan with a lid for fear of your phone landing in it.

“And remember when, like, four years ago, I went to celebrate new year’s with her instead of with our group, just because she’d asked a million times, and she didn’t want to come down to join our party? And then she mixed drinks and got me so drunk, I didn’t even make it until midnight? She’s still holding that over my head, look,” you just kept going, read a text message aloud about maybe trying that again and just doing mocktails so she would actually be able to see the fireworks this time.

You sighed aggressively and turned its back end into a frustrated cry.

“Am I insane? Don’t actually answer that, but… am I insane?”

You stopped pacing to look at Joe, and... you had to take a second to take in what you were seeing.

Joe was stood leaning against the countertop where, behind him, potatoes were sizzling loudly in a frying pan. He had his arms crossed over his stomach, head cocked to the side and he was just… staring at you. Slightly biting into his lip. Smiling, a little. It was a way of looking at you that you could feel within your chest. That made you whole face heat up as you felt how the tops of your cheeks blushed.

Rude.

Had he even been listening at all?

“Be helpful, please. Am I insane?” you asked again, arms flying once more, outraged and in need of a very specific answer.

Joe let his smile grow a little wider and kindly assured you, “You’re not insane.”

He got it right.

“Thank you.” You let your shoulders visibly drop, glad to have heard Joe say what you needed him to say. But then you looked behind him.

“You’re burning the potatoes.”

Joe just kept his eyes on you and said, “I know.”

Didn’t unfold his arms. Just kept his warm eyes on you, that fondly stared a little dreamily.

“Joe,” you scolded, half laughing as you stepped closer to take the pan off the fire, but Joe was faster and turned the hob off just before you could intervene. Then he immediately took advantage of you being closer and used both of his hands to cup your cheeks. To hold you by your jaw, and to tip your head back for him.

Then he gave you that same look again.

Half-lidded, soft, adoring eyes that just stared down at you as he smiled a little.

“What?” you asked, expecting him to lean down for a kiss that didn’t come.

“Not insane.” Joe cooed.

You sensed a but coming.

“But?”

“But…” Joe leant down a little, got a little closer. “But you’re very pretty.”

“But I’m very… Joe, that has nothing to do with–”

Joe cut you off with the kiss you’d been waiting for. Soft lips brushed to yours in a funny position because he caught you in the middle of a word, strong hands holding you in place. You let your fingers wrap around his forearms and attempted to pull away, but Joe wasn’t having it. He used the very brief moment your lips parted to whisper, “So pretty.” into your mouth before he was back on you, arm now curling around the back of you to keep you from leaning back any further.

The kitchen smelled of delicious food, and you’d just spent at least ten minutes pacing around the room whilst tirading about something ultimately so very insignificant, especially to Joe, but the boy was kissing you.

Told you that you weren’t insane.

Said that you were so pretty.

Had cooked you dinner and had let you spew about an old friend trying her best to reconnect without telling you that you were being silly.

You probably were being silly.

Today just hadn’t been the best day.

And written communication had the tendency to change in meaning depending on your mood.

You could read everything again the next day and interpret all of it differently.

You were being silly.

But the boy was kissing you now, and it was just the perfect remedy to a shitty day.

Joe held you in place and kissed you until he felt you sigh into him. Until you gave in, and decided that, yea, sure, Joe could just make out with you in his kitchen for a while if he wanted to.

Joe swallowed the soft sounds you made and softly groaned in return. He loved how he could feel you grow more relaxed under his hands. Loved the way you were pulling him down to you to get more of him. Loved how you started to deny him pulling back, now more desperate for him than he was for you.

When you felt Joe’s hands start to wander down your back and round out over your bum for a squeeze, you managed to break free from Joe just long enough to say, “Should we have dinner first?”

As an answer, Joe bent through his knees a little and you felt how his grip grew stronger as he was about to lift you up. You got your arms around his neck just in time.

“Nah,” Joe murmured into your mouth, hands firmly under your thighs as he encouraged you to wrap your legs around his waist. “Dinner can wait.”

You got walked over to the bed where Joe laid you down and then just lazily kissed you for a bit longer.

Where you sunk into his mattress and tangled up into his sheets whilst dinner out in the kitchen grew cold.

Where roaming hands were heavy and wandering, pulling at the hems of shirts as palms searched for smooth, bare skin to touch.

Where you eventually grew a bit impatient and tried undoing Joe’s trousers with fumbly fingers, not breaking your kissing.

Where you slipped a hand inside and felt how hard he was.

Where Joe pretended to suddenly care about dinner until you got your mouth on him and he let himself fall back into his pillows, eyes fluttering shut.

Where the sun was setting outside, casting the room in soft warm oranges as Joe used careful, gentle hands to get you out of your clothes.

Where Joe wanted to see all of you.

Where Joe wanted to feel all of you.

Where Joe made you laugh when you bit into his shoulder, and panted, “I take it back, what I said earlier. You are insane.”

Where, after a while, when Joe burrowed his face into your neck and didn’t remove it, you knew he was in the homestretch. Mind blank. Just feeling.

And you were right.

It didn’t take long for pants to turn into groans, for rhythmic thrusting to turn into sloppy hip-clashes, and for Joe to tense up all over with a held breath before turning into a boneless collapsed man who felt like all the strength within him had just left through his dick.

It took a while for Joe to return back to earth. He just laid on top of you, face pressed into the crook of your neck, breathing so close to your ear it almost sounded like he was inside of your skull.

When Joe finally did remove his face from being pressed into your neck, there was a spit-string connecting you together still.

“Oh, ew,” you laughed, moving your face away slightly, “That’s disgusting.”

Hovering over you, cheeks flushed and hair messy, you saw how Joe looked at the spot where he’d been drooling all over you, and he grimaced.

“Oh, no, maybe,” he leant onto one elbow to get a hand into the crook there, already laughing. “Maybe don’t,” he started wiping, tried to get a bit of duvet in there which only made you feel how wet it actually was. When you moved a little more to get a look, Joe tried to stop you from seeing the wet patch of saliva he’d left behind.

“No, don’t look! Stop!” he was laughing now, and against his advice, you got a hand in there to feel.

“What the fuck, Joe, you drooled all over– Joe! There’s a fucking puddle!”

For a short moment, Joe acted like a child caught sneaking a snack he wasn’t supposed to have taken from the pantry, very cute yet very guilty. That quickly changed into a more indignant attitude, where he gave you a face for giving him a hard time about enjoying himself.

It was only a bit of spit.

“I’ve cooked you dinner!” Joe exclaimed as he climbed off of you, and he said it like the argument was meant to make your neck less wet somehow.

“Which has absolutely gone cold.”

“Come on,” Joe held out a hand. “I’ll heat it up and we’ll have it outside.”

“How about,” you started, grabbing the hand and letting him pull you up. “You go heat up dinner, I’ll wash your sheets, and, um, shower.”

Joe didn’t let go of the hand he was holding, and pulled at it until you were up on your feet where he was quick to lock his arms behind your back to keep you close.

“How about,” Joe copied your tone to make you laugh, and got his face back into the same crook of your neck where he blew a raspberry to make you squirm. “We both take a shower, and then we get the rest sorted after?”

You’d never taken a shower as long together before. No funny business - just actual washing. Except, Joe would keep kissing you places he would then wash straight after, because you clearly thought his spit was dirty now, so every press of lips got chased by a soapy shower sponge and it took for fucking ever for Joe to stop thinking the bit was hilarious.

To be fair, you hadn’t quite figured out how to not laugh every time he did it, so... partially your fault, you guessed.

But what wasn’t your fault, was how not orgasming hadn’t been weird at all. How that hadn’t consciously crossed your mind once. You’d been distracted with wet sheets and soapy kisses and then after all that, a lovely home cooked meal outside on the balcony where you had it with your hair still wet, dressed in just T-shirts and underwear.

It wasn’t your fault the first time, it wasn’t your fault the second time, and it definitely wasn’t your fault the third time, when Izzy barged in right in the middle of it.

It also wasn’t exactly her fault, though.

All Izzy had done was get home from work.

You were right in the middle of the hallway of your shared flat, pressed up against a wall, half naked, in Joe’s arms.

And then Izzy walked in.

Now… you’d seen Izzy freak out before. But to see two of your friends mid stand-up-fuck in your own hallway after a long day at the office triggered a new form of anger within your flatmate. It didn’t help that, as you were trying to get out of Joe’s grip to rush into your bedroom, that Joe’s hold on you only strengthened.

Izzy was the first to start shouting, and a fraction of a second after her first, “Oh my God!” you and Joe started shouting too.

Izzy was stood in the doorway where she was shielding her eyes, workbag sliding from her shoulder into her elbow, and she was screeching on the top of her lungs, “Oh my God, Oh my GOD, no! No! What the fuck! No!”

Joe shouted, “Leave! Leave!” right into your ear with an unmistakable urgency in his voice whilst the cutting edge left no room for argument.

And then there were panicked screams coming from you, high-pitched words tumbling over each other, all sentences unfinished, half telling Izzy to close the door behind her, half telling Joe to let you go.

Which, he didn’t do.

Joe just held on stronger and used his legs to press you against the wall like he was trying to make the two of you disappear into the brick there, and it hurt.

The chaos lasted maybe four seconds. Five tops. It was all overlapped loud voices, all frantic movements and then… to make an already awful situation even worse… Joe orgasmed.

You shrieked, “Wh– Are you coming? Are you coming right now?” as your eyes nearly bulged out of your head with shocked outrage, hands trying to push at his shoulders whilst your legs tried to find the floor.

It was the worst evening you’d had in a good while.

After everything, you sat on the foot of your bed, hugging your knees and Izzy stood on the threshold of your bedroom, asking what she’d ever done to you for you to decide that having sex in the shared hallway at twenty minutes past six in the evening was a totally normal thing to do be doing.

Joe’d quickly left after. Was out the door in a flash after the world’s most awkward apology ever.

“Sorry Izzy, for, um... yea, for making you see… and, um, hear that.”

“Fuck off Joe.”

“Yea, I’m… sorry, I’ll leave. I’ll see you Friday, yea?”

“I said, fuck off, Joe.”

“So sorry. Sorry.” Joe had paused, and then a single look of Izzy had made him go, “Yea, yea. I’m going.”

He hadn’t even dared to turn around to find you in your bedroom first. He’d just walked straight out and texted you, “Got sent home. Call me in a bit?”

Promises were made of removing clothes behind closed doors from now on – preferably locked doors, please. And if you couldn’t take four more steps to get yourselves into your bedroom first, for the love of God, please, just go over to Joe’s. He’s got a whole place to himself and you could fuck on the doormat for all Izzy cared.

You apologized too.

Said it would never happen again.

And then Izzy said she had to not look at your face for the rest of the night because she kept reliving the visuals, and – fair. That made sense.

You kind of didn’t want to see your own face for a second either.

And there was no way that Joe had planned to deny you an orgasm like this, but... it was real fucking convenient that Izzy always came home from work around the same time each day. It was real fucking convenient that he’d gotten you incredibly worked up with cute little text messages all throughout the day. Real fucking convenient that he walked in with his shirt tucked tightly into his jeans and far too many of the buttons undone for you to be normal about it.

There was no way he’d planned it.

But he’d definitely given the situation a little nudge into the direction it had eventually headed into, and no one could blame you for not having seen it then.

Not yet.

But then the fourth time happened, and Joe’d just edged you all night. Was very open about his teasing. Made you tell him if you were getting close, and then when you did, he’d just… ease off. Pull back. Let you whine and cry for it until he thought you’d pleaded enough for him to be nice again.

He’d gotten you so close.

So, so close.

But not close enough.

And then, when he came and just rolled over after, you knew.

This guy was having sex with you without letting you orgasm.

“You’re sick, you know that? Like an actual sociopath.”

“I’m just following instructions.”

Yea, all right.

Yea.

Fine.

He’d gotten away with it up until now, which, well done, Joey. This idiot really thought he held all the aces, didn’t he? Smug little bastard.

But you know what?

Good.

He could feel that way.

You were going to let him feel that way.

There were loopholes.

Easy ones too.

Joe was wrong, and clueless, and maybe, actually… he was a little stupid, after all.

And you were stubborn. Determined. Persistent.

Dead set on proving yourself right.

Which you were.

You held all the aces.

Not Joe.

Joe was wrong.

You were going to outplay the player at his own thought-up little game, and he would see. Oh, absolutely, he would see.

He’d fucking see.

---

The Taglisted

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add yourself

[puckarchives]

personally, i found it very attractive: l. hughes

blurb: in which an interview with the devils' upcoming rookie takes the intern by suprise. / word count: 1.5k / pairing: luke hughes x fem!reader

To be fair, all that I wanted to do was leave the Prudential Center, go home, and take a long bath. The game between the New Jersey Devils and the New York Rangers had gone into overtime, and as much as I loved my job, it truly had been a long day.

Flashing my lanyard at the security guard standing outside of the Devils' locker room, I was ushered into the room, joining the growing cohort of other journalists; writers who had made their entire career off of reporting on the comings-and-goings in the sports world. Now that the team had been solidified with major additions, and taken players off of their Injury Report roster, the Devils had put up a good fight against their Hudson River rivals.

Grabbing my phone and opening voice notes, I made a beeline for the one player that I needed to cover— Luke Hughes, one of the newest additions to the Devils, and a hell of a defenseman that I needed to talk to on his play earlier on the ice. And, thanks to the work I had put in weeks before trying to get this same interview, I had the opportunity to actually talk to him, instead of having to wait around in a circle while other journalists droned on (and asked) practically the same questions over and over again.

I had fallen in love with sports journalism because of this— because of the opportunity to speak with the players who have it their all on that ice, and who had a true passion for the game they played.

I once again flashed my I.D. to one of the team's publicists, Sharyl, and she smiled over at me— shaking my hand and calling over Luke.

"Hi Y/N! How are you holding up over this season?" she asked as we stood in our corner, both angled to see the player coming towards us.

"Hi Sharyl, I'm doing well! Just finished up my third-year, and I just need this last interview to finish up the project I've been working on these past few weeks," I told her. It was true— I had been working on this player profile for the past few weeks, and currently, this single nineteen-year-old rookie was the only person left on my list before I could publish the article that I was hoping would help my career.

"Oh that sounds so good, sweetheart! I know just how many hours you've been putting in here, and I'm so excited to read!" the older lady said.

"Here's Luke now!" she said, saying hello to the defenseman, and then turning back to me.

"Luke, this is Y/N, the reporter I mentioned from ESPN's journalism internship cohort. She's just going to go over a few things with you, and finish up her profile," she told the curly-haired boy.

"Hi, Luke, I'm Y/N, it's nice to meet you!" I spoke up, putting my hand out for him to shake.

It seemed to take him a few moments to catch up with me; and, to be fair, that was to be expected. I was his age, and from the way Sharyl was speaking about me, you'd expect me to be much older, or even a man. When I had begun working for ESPN's College Internship program, I had started with baseball as my main coverage sport— slowly growing from that to hockey as the seasons changed, and then, finally, landing on the Devils as my main beat at the beginning of the season. With all that, however, I knew the way people looked at me— questioning as to why an eighteen year old college student was interviewing men in sports that others thought I didn't even know existed, or even know how they worked. So, his reaction was expected.

The six-two boy in front of me seemed to be struck out of whatever stupor he was in, however, and shook my hand back.

"Hi, Y/N, it's nice to meet you. Sharyl said you'd be stopping by," he said. He was quiet, and I could tell how much of a toll the game had on him— despite being freshly showered, he sported his signature smirk— looking down at me as the cheers and celebrations kept it up behind him. 

"Yeah! I just have a few questions to ask, but do you want to follow me out to the media office? It shouldn't take too long, especially since I'm sure you want to go celebrate your win tonight," I told him.

Not really looking for a response, I looked over the boy— he was, admittedly, cute. His eyes were full of life— and he filled out his after-game clothing well. That, and the coupling of beauty marks over his face just enhanced how handsome he was. God, get it together, I told myself. You're on the job!

Finding ourselves in one of the various media offices hosted in the Prudential Center's basement, I sat down across from the rookie, and waited until we were both situated to start the interview. 

“So, thank you for sitting down with me! It was a long game out there, but you’re really pushing through,” I laughed, trying to ease the tension I could feel on my end. I really didn’t want to make a fool of myself in front of this very cute boy, and even less knowing that he was a professional player in the sport I covered heavily. 

“No— no it’s all okay, no worries,” he said, “I’d rather be here than listening to Shmido trying to recap the entirety of the second-half,” he laughed. 

“Well, you’re the first to say that,” I smiled back. “So, now that you’re on your second official NHL game, I kind of have to point out— you went from playing for Michigan, and then skating for the league in just a few weeks, and you admittedly have had a huge transformation—” I started. 

“Yeah I got faster,” he laughed, his cheeks tinging a shade of pink, and I couldn’t really lie to myself and blame it on his earlier celebrations. “Don’t worry, you can say it— Jacky has.” 

“Well, I’ll be honest, it’s really been great to watch. I couldn’t take my eyes off of you the entire game,” I said, and then admittedly felt my own cheeks flush, because truly, what was I thinking? Was I openly flirting with a guy I was supposed to be interviewing? Before I could feel myself blush even further, or even make the situation even more awkward, the silence was broken with Luke’s laugh— a stark and loud chuckle that made me look up automatically. His blush had now traveled from his cheeks to the tip of his hair, peeking out of his wet curls. 

He ran his hand through his hair, “Well I mean, that’s definitely great to hear— are you serious?” he said, and for the life of me, I couldn’t tell if he was joking— if he was making fun of my obvious lack of flirting ability, or egging me on. 

“Very,” I said. “It was a great game, and the goal you made in OT was just so smooth! Personally, I found it very attractive” I said; I had spent the entirety of the game looking at Luke skating— the smooth and strategic moves he made on the ice, passing the puck back and forth as if he was moving in water. He was beautiful on the ice— weaving between the opposing team’s players quicker and way more efficiently to the point where they couldn’t even keep up with him. 

“And I have to point out the pass you made to Jack in the second-half and the assist you sent to Nico! I haven’t seen a lot of puck work that really resembled that in such a while, and—” I cut myself off, trying not to let myself ramble any farther in front of the boy I could feel myself crushing on. 

“I mean that’s really a high compliment, thank you,” he said. “I mean, I know this might not be entirely appropriate for the interview, but I’m free after this, if you are two?” he asked. This had to be some kind of cliche, I thought, not really thinking that he had just asked me out. 

I did, however, hope he wasn’t egging me on— and, besides, after this profile came out, I wouldn't be covering the NJ Devils until next season, so why not? Why not spend an afternoon with a hot hockey player who I had already called cute?  “You know what? I am also free, and I was going to get dinner, if you wanted to join me,” I responded, hoping the youngest Hughes would take me up on the offer too. “I also don’t have class tomorrow, so yes, I am very free after this,” I laughed.

The boy in front of me smiled up, pushing the curls falling in his face back, and saying a quick “Well, then let’s get this thing started.”