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incognito-girl · 5 months

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entertainment - A. RUSSO

“hi pretty!” you hear the blonde Italian girl shout from the kitchen. You had left Alessia alone for the majority of the day as you and your friends had decided to have a girls day together. The pair of you spend the day shopping getting food and catching up with each other as your schedules usually conflict, so your girlfriend had been left alone all day waiting patiently for you to come home. When she got the message from you saying you were on your way she almost jumped out of her seat with excitement.

she sat waiting for you before she realised that she could make you a nice dinner and get in your good books. so she immediately hopped off the couch turned off the television and ran to the kitchen in hopes to find something she could easily make before you got home. she ruffled though the cabinets in your shared home to find pasta and sauce, a discrace to her Italian heritage but she put it off with a shrug knowing it would be easy for her to make for you.

her eyes light up when she sees you. you left after her today with her having training early this morning so she hadn't had the chance to properly see you previous to this, and when the first time she sees you is when your hair is done perfectly and you are wearing her favourite pair of jeans it certainly makes her day that much brighter. she sees the collection of bags that were in your hands inwardly rolling her eyes at you, not wanting to think about how much you had spent today. “hi darling” you say while placing a kiss to her cheek. “you missed” she mumbles grabbing your hips to keep you in place. you look at her with a grin and place a sweet kiss to her lips. “not long enough” she says letting go of you tapping your bum lightly. “what are you cooking” you say laughing slightly at your girlfriend. “pasta with sauce” she says not really paying attention to you as she went back to stirring the pasta. “wow, nonna wouldn't be proud Lessi” you say, acting hurt placing a hand over your heart. “oh shush, don't act like you don't have this for dinner most nights anyway” “shut up” you mumble back as she laughs at you.

after you had both had more than your fair share of the pasta your girlfriend had cooked, she had requested dome after dinner entertainment - a fashion show of everything you bought. “god less with how bloated i am i don't know if ill fit into anything i bought anymore.” you say laughing while rubbing your stomach as if you were pregnant. “shush, you will. stop being so silly.” she mumbles into your neck while wrapping her hands around you pulling you into a tight embrace. You both stood there for a few minutes in each others embrace before the blonde girl suddenly spun you around by your hips pressed a kiss to your lips then demanded to see all your new clothes. “ugh it’s just so much effort though.” you say looking up at her through your eyelashes - giving her puppy eyes to try convince her to not make you show her. “nope that wont work. go. i want to see.” she retaliated, pushing you away from her. you moan at her for this while taking off the hoodie you had on all day leaving you in a white t-shirt. you threw the piece of clothing at her as she sat down laughing at you.

after changing into a new dress you bought you went out to the girl who was waiting patiently for you as she sat on her phone. “ta-dah!” you shout out to the girl while doing a little spin to let her see the dress. once you stop your eyes fall onto the girl properly, the hoodie that once was on you had now taken residence on your girlfriend. a big grin had fallen onto her lips as she looked at you. “looking beautiful as ever, mrs russo.” she said standing up offering her sleeve covered hand to you to spin you around. “not mrs russo.” you say wiggling your fingers in her face hinting at an engagement ring. “soon enough i’ll have my very own mrs russo” she said while kissing your hand. “hmm when’s soon enough?” you question wrapping your hands around her waist. “that’s a secret i’ll never tell” she said while quickly lifting you up and wrapping your legs around her waist, forcing you to put your hands on her neck. “i love you.” she whispered onto your lips, her lips ghosting over yours before she pulled away, dropping you. “Now” she starts before pulling your dress back down, “show me the rest of what you bought.”

after a gruelling half an hour of changing clothes constantly you were perched on the blondes lap dawned in her oldest tracksuit and jersey. her last name on your back that she was tracing while half listening to you go on about your day. the remote in your hand as you try to find something to watch on netflix. “then i came home to you.” you finished looking back at your girlfriend who had a small smile on her face. “fun day?” she asks pulling you further into her. “mhm, best day. especially coming home to you.” you answer her. “you want to know the best thing about my day?” she whispers to you. “of course” you quickly answer very eager to hear about her day. “you walking through the door and seeing your beautiful smile.” “little liar” you retort with a little smirk before leaning into the older girl and locking lips for the hundredth time that day. each kiss just as exciting as the first.

#woso soccer #alessia russo #woso one shot #woso x reader #lionesses #alessia russo imagine #alessia russo x reader #arsenal wfc #arsenal #england women #england wnt

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thebearer · 7 months

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the milestones menu: nonna berzatto's homemade pasta

prompt: yours and carmen's first "i love you".

contains: fluff, general fluff. some mentions to dead relatives, carmen's self doubt, but very minimal bc it's very fluffy :)

2 cups of flour- Semolina.

4 Large Eggs

Pinch of Salt

Put flour into a mound. Make a center, and add the eggs to the middle. Whisk slowly with a fork, gradually working it in little at a time until nice and thick. Knead the mixture for about ten minutes. Let it rest in the fridge for thirty minutes. Put it in a ball, and roll it out very thin.

“Can’t believe you never had homemade pasta.” Carmen shook his head, blue eyes peeking out from under the mess of curls.

“Nope.” You shook your head, grinning over the crystal wine glass, sipping your riesling slowly. “Strictly a boxed pasta girl.”

“Fuckin’ criminal.” Carmen grinned, a playful, lopsided smirk that had you blushing.

The counter was covered in flour, stopping just where you rested, propped up on the granite while Carmen worked. Your eyes trained on his hands, hands that stirred the eggs into the flour, kneaded the dough until your thighs were clenching.

“My Nonna is rollin’ in her grave right now, you know that?” Carmen pulled you from your gaze, rolling out the dough.

“Noooo, don't say that.” You laughed, shaking your head. “You’re making me feel bad, Carmen. I swear I thought Olive Garden made fresh pasta.”

Carmen laughed, a little shy but louder now- more himself. He’d blossomed with you lately, unveiling new parts of himself every single day. “‘M just kiddin’, baby.” Carmen hummed, eyes cutting to you a little skeptical. “Sorry, I-I didn’t mean to sound like an asshole. That sounded douchey, right?”

You smiled, setting your glass behind you. “No, I was just messin’ with you, bear.” The nickname- his nickname. Hearing it more and more roll from your tongue, each time his heart skipped harder than the last.

“Is this her recipe?” You asked, picking up the faded recipe card, looped cursive on the aged paper. “Your Nonna’s?”

“Yeah,” Carmen nodded. “I, uh, so when I left to go to culinary school, right? She was sick, and… and I think she, like, knew that when I went to New York that would be the last time she saw me.” Carmen’s face dropped, slow and sad, it made your own heart sink.

“So she-she gave me all these recipe books and-and cards that were hers. We used to cook together a lot. She taught me how to cook, y’know? My mom and dad were always at the restaurant and didn’t want to cook when they got home. They didn’t want me in the restaurant either so I spent a lot of time with her.” Carmen muttered. You could see the memories playing behind his eyes.

You liked to picture that version of Carmen, a little boy with wild curls, helping his Nonna cook. Happy memories.

“That’s sweet.” You smiled, leaning against the cabinets. “She did a really good job. You know she’s so insanely proud of you.”

Carmen snorted, shaking his head lightly. “Yes, she is. Everyone’s proud of you, Carmen… I’m proud of you.” You hesitate, eyes scanning his features. It was true, of course, but handling Carmen sometimes was like handling a frightened animal. You were never sure what would make him scatter away in fear.

Carmen swallowed thickly, cheeks flushed red, lips in a tight line. “T-Thanks.” Carmen muttered, wiping his hands on his apron, tossing the flour back into his clammy hands.

“She, uh, she woulda loved you, y’know.” Carmen’s eyes met yours, intense and piercing. “I wish you coulda met her.”

“Yeah, me too.” You nod. “I would’ve loved to hear all the baby Carmen cooking stories. I bet she had some good ones.” You smiled, bright and wide- perfect. It made Carmen’s brain numb.

“Yeah, she would.” Carmen nodded, hands stilling, still buried in the dough.

He felt it in his bones, his heart, consuming his thoughts. The overwhelming need he’d felt for weeks, since the first time you kissed him really, that he’d been fighting- too scared to say. What he felt every time he looked at you, when he thought about you.

“Um, I-I wanna say something, and-and I don’t know if I should even fuckin’ say this or-or if it’s… fuck, if you-you feel the same or I just, I don’t wanna fuck this up because this is like the best thing that’s ever happened to me, and-and I’m workin’ on not ruinin’ good shit in my life and bein’ ok with it like-like my therapist says ya know, but-” Carmen rambled, words spilling out in fast, overwhelming bouts that took you by surprise.

Carmen flustered, reaching a dough covered hand to his face, the sticky batter catching on his brows and hair. He flushed deeply, hands shaking in embarrassment, cursing under his breath. “F-Fuck, I-I’m sorry. I-I, nevermind, it’s not… I don’t know why-why I would-” His hands trembled, body shaking with anger and embarrassment. Way to fuckin’ go, Berzatto, you fuckin’ ruin it. That’s all you ever do, Carmen thought bitterly, wiping his hands off on the cloth.

“Carm,” You said softly, your voice a beacon in the raging sea of his mind, pulling him out of his own harsh thoughts.

Carmen turned, a fury flush of pure embarrassment that burnt all down his cheeks to his chest. Eyes soft and wary, hesitant like he was doomed, destined for the worse.

You slide off the counter easily, grabbing the spare towel, bringing it to his eyebrows, wiping the dough off gently. The softness of your touch soothed Carmen, lulling his hammering heart- he didn’t see your own shaking hands, filled with your own adrenaline nerves.

You stood in front of him, eyes on the other, careful and watching- unsure. “I-I love you, too.” Your breath hitched, squeezing the words out in a nervous tumble. Carmen didn’t move, body going rigid, heart stopping entirely. The ringing was back in his ears, clouding his brain so loudly he was sure he heard you wrong.

“I’ve wanted to say it for a while, too, but didn’t…” You shook your head, heat in your own cheeks, eyes casting down to his dough covered hand. “I didn’t know if-if you felt that or if- I don’t know, I didn’t want to seem crazy or obsessive if it was too soon, and-and scare you.”

“No,” Carmen croaked, tongue thick in his own mouth. “No, I-I mean- fuck,” Carmen shook his head, looking to the wall. He needed a second, words jumbled in his mouth, heart racing, so high off the adrenaline he felt like he could combust at any moment.

“I-I was gonna say that too.” Carmen nodded, the quirk in your lips making his heart lurch. “That I love you. I was- yeah, I love you. I-I have for a while.”

“Really?” You whispered, voice tiny and excited, like it was a secret just for the two of you. Maybe it was.

“Yeah, fuck yeah.” Carmen let out a breathy, shaky laugh. “I love you, and-and I just love you so much it makes my brain hurt sometimes.”

“Me too.” You grin, a hand pressing to his cheek. “I love you.” The phrase you’d repressed for so long, deprived yourself of saying now spilled out of you like a mantra- like that was all you could say now.

Carmen grinned, brain bubbly and light. He let you pull him into a kiss, head tilting down, lips molding over yours so they fit perfectly.

Later over plates of Bologonese, you grinned across the table from Carmen. “If I didn’t tell you I loved you before, I definitely would now.” You moaned, pointing at the plate. “I really was missing out.”

Carmen beamed under your praise, gooey and love drunk off your words- off you. He knew Viola Berzatto, wherever she was, was boasting with pride.

And he knew his Nonna would have loved you too.

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skipper1331 · 8 months

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Cooking attempt // Alessia Russo

a/n: live, laugh, love Lessi Russo

Ingredients were spread out on the kitchen counter as Alessia stood in the kitchen with her apron on.

The apron was a gift from you to the Italian, the reason you bought it in the centre "Less Upsetti more Spaghetti". Of course, she loved it. Since the day you gave it to her there hadn't been a day where she hadn‘t worn it whilst cooking.

She went through the pages of the cookbook, pausing at each page where it said "yummy!!" or "awesome when you cook it", comments written by you.

In her daydreams she traced over the written letters as she thought about whether she should cook pasta or lasagna. "I would prefer pasta" you whispered in her ear while your arms looped around her waist. A loud shriek left her throat, "Don‘t scare me like that!", the italian out of breath. Giggling, you pressed a kiss to her cheek. "Sorry"

"My little troublemaker, aren‘t you?" she brushed her nose against yours, smiling as she chased after your lips.

You jumped on the counter (where no ingredients were) taking a seat as the blonde started to cook. You loved to watch her cook. She’s really clumsy but when she’s in the kitchen she turned in to a master. She would cook like her nonna taught her.

"Stop staring at me," the striker whined "I need to concentrate." blushing under your gaze, the tip of her ears already red. "I‘m not staring, I‘m admiring"

"Admire something else"

"Okay" you answered, jumping off the kitchen counter "I‘ll just go to the park and admire someone else then."

You knew how to wind up the italian because within seconds you‘re sat down on the counter again. "No" her hands were firmly resting on your thighs "you can admire me as long as you want."

Your eyes automatically closed when you felt her mouth on yours, her lips ever so softly as she tested the waters if she could go further. Her arms were at their usual spot around your waist as yours found their way around her neck. You parted your lips, allowing her to go further which she instantly did. The blonde slid her tongue in your mouth while her hands roamed along your body, pulling you off the counter as it got more heated between the two of you. Finally satisfied with her hand placement she rested them on your bum. Your body pressed up against Alessia in need, hips grinding at each other. Quickly, the striker found her way to your neck. The moans that left your mouth only encouraging her as she kissed along your neck, leaving marks all over your throat. "Alessia" - music to her ears.

Normally, Less didn‘t like it when you called her that but If it was moaning, whimpering or out of breath it made her go feral. She couldn‘t get enough of it, of you.

"Let me eat my dessert first and I’ll cook you anything"

With an ease she picked you up, your legs going around her waist as she carried you to your shared bedroom.

You didn‘t leave the bed for the next couple of hours.

It was the next day when Lessi woke up, your naked figure laying on her bare chest while her hand played with your hair. Even sleeping you were the prettiest girl. Your neck was littered in hickies as where other parts of your body which were covered by the duvet. She was proud of herself.

Slowly and quietly, your girlfriend snuck out of the room to make you breakfast. She was quick to make you some pancakes, hoping you were still asleep.

A few minutes later, the blonde re-entered your bedroom with a tray in her hands as she walked to your side of the bed. "Amore" pressing kisses over your face the blonde tried to wake you up. You grumbled and turned away. "I made you pancakes" she tried again, this time with more success.

As you were sitting up the blonde placed the tray of food on the bed before she sat down herself, her eyes on your cleavage. The duvet only covering your legs while your chest was on full display. She swallowed hard, trying to ease her mind and not think about the images from last night - with no success. "Did you hear me?" you asked, waving your hand in front of the strikers face "Huh??"

"Help me with the pancakes?"

You knew where her mind was, of course you knew, you could read her like a book. She answered with a stuttery "Ye-yeah" before she took a bite.

"I‘ll cook pasta for you today, amore, is that okay?"

As reponds you nodded, puckering your lips so that she could give you a kiss.

"I love you"

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#alessia russo #alessia russo x reader #woso fanfics #woso x reader #woso #arsenal wfc #arsenal women #engwnt #engwnt x reader #lionesses #lionesses x reader

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wileys-russo · 3 months

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it’s giving proud nonna coming to watch you play football in the dead of winter

#woso #woso community #alexia putellas

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johnwickb1tsch · 2 months

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The Girl Next Door ~ Part 1

A Constantine x Reader fic based on this imagine.

Summary: John Constantine has a crush on you. He wasn’t going to do anything about it though, until you strong arm him into coming over for dinner. Little do you know, this paints a target on your back for the local vampire coven… (I had to write something sweet for my mental health y'all 😆) Rating: Explicit, NSFW, but no dead doves...😮

You are the very archetype of The Girl Next Door. Well, literally. John Constantine lives in 202, and you in 204. You share a wall, and occasionally, he sort of smiles at you when you meet in the hall.

Like tonight, as your arms are full of groceries, returning home after work. You don’t know what he does exactly, but you assume it’s the same for him, though he is only clutching a brown bag that very poorly disguises a bottle of scotch.

“Hi, John,” you say brightly over a proud sprig of celery sticking out of your bag. It’s almost a running joke between the two of you, your sunny brightness aimed at him like a weapon.

There’s a long pause, like always, before he finally answers reluctantly in his deep monotone, “Hi, y/n. Bye, y/n.”

Before you can engage him any further he disappears into his apartment, closing the door hard behind him, the slam in the air like an exclamation point. You stare for a moment at the space where he’d just been, tall, handsome, his suit rumpled, that tie half undone around his neck. He looked like he’d had a rough day, whatever he does.

He dresses like a professional something, but imagining that man as a door to door salesman with his attitude is laughable, and so is the thought of him working amicably in an office setting.

You go inside and put away your groceries, then spread out what you need to make dinner. It’s Friday night, and you’ve had a long week too. You are making comfort food—it’s kind of a shame to eat it alone.

Half an hour later, while the sauce simmers, you find you just can’t stop thinking about that man next door. He seems lonely, every time you see him. There is something about him that just makes you want to wrap him up in a hug.

He’d probably push you off if you tried, but it doesn’t mean he doesn’t need a hug.

The thing is…you have this thing. He pretends like you annoy him, but sometimes in the hall, or down in the lobby when you’re collecting your mail, you catch him looking at you when he thinks you’re not looking. And the look on his face is never exactly lecherous, like you’re used to with most men who eye-fuck you on the street. His look is more…just…lost, and it tugs at your heartstrings.

You’re sure he’ll say no, but your feet seem to carry you of their own accord, when you find yourself at his door, knocking loudly.

Some time passes and you hear him grumbling on the other side before he jerks open the portal just a crack. “Yeah?”

“I’m making my Nonna’s meatballs and marinara for dinner.”

“Good for you?”

“From scratch.”

“Sounds time consuming.”

“Want to join me?”

There is a very long pause, in which he just looks at you. You can tell he’s at least one drink in already; you smell the fumes on his breath. And maybe it’s stupid, and you’re asking for trouble you don’t need, but the thought that that will be this man’s only dinner squeezes your heart.

Finally, he answers with a question. “Why?”

“Why not?”

This, amusingly, seems to actually flummox him, his mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. In the end he narrows his eyes at you, (those lovely brown eyes, you can’t help but notice), like you’re trying to trick him into something truly heinous.

It’s…kind of funny, truth be told, and you can’t stop yourself from grinning. “Come on. I know you can smell it.” Your door is wide open.

“Maybe I don’t like Italian food.”

“Everyone likes Italian food.”

“Maybe you’re a terrible cook.”

“Only one way to find out.”

He actually growls a little, which for some reason gives you a thrill to the base of your spine.

You really need to get back to stir the sauce. You didn’t anticipate getting this far in the conversation (argument?) with him, honestly.

“Well, door’s open,” you tell him, turning to go. You throw one last little come-hither look over your shoulder, to find he is definitely staring at your ass. Or, glaring, more like.

Maybe you have a screw loose, but you find this adorable.

You go back to your sauce, and lose yourself in the preparation of the other ingredients, watching the pasta to make sure it doesn’t boil over, checking that the meatballs aren’t burning. (Your oven is a dinosaur from the 1970s, and sometimes the temp spikes for no reason).

You are about to drain the pasta, when you find a tall, rumpled man standing beside your rickety thrift store table, looking a bit confused as to how he’d ended up there. He looks so big in your shoebox of an apartment, and if you’re being honest, maybe there’s a little bit of lust tied up with your desire to mother this man.

You offer him a welcoming smile, and for a moment, you swear he looks like he’s drowning.

“Glad you could make it,” you say somewhat teasingly.

“Can I…help?” He says the last word like it’s a completely alien thing to him.

“I’ve pretty much got it under control…” you say, which is mostly true. You peruse the sparse offerings of your 3 slot wine rack, picking a $6 bottle of Chilean red blend. “Want to open this?” The face he makes looking down at the decidedly weaker-than-whiskey beverage is almost comical, but he takes the corkscrew from you as you transfer the meal to serving bowls and put glasses of water on the table.

He removes his suit jacket at the table, rolling his sleeves up over muscular forearms that are, if you’re being honest, totally distracting. After you sit down you fill your plates, and the first few minutes of the meal goes by in semi-awkward silence.

Surprisingly, it’s John who speaks first. “This is really good,” he admits begrudgingly, and you utterly fail to damper your I-told-you-so smile.

“Thanks.”

You make halting small talk. You get the feeling he doesn’t chat much with anyone, of his own free will. When you ask him how his week was, his simple answer is, “Hell.”

You have no idea he’s being literal.

You ask him what he does, and he tells you he’s a sort of private detective, and he can’t really talk about it. He asks what you do, more to get the conversation off of him than anything. You let it go, for now, telling him that you’re a receptionist at an office building for a mega corporation downtown.

“Fitting,” he grumbles, you think because of your innate cheerfulness.

You feel the urge to tell him that half the time it’s just a thing you wear like armor—but you don’t know each other that well yet.

As you loosen up a little with food and more wine, he slowly asks more questions about you, where you’re from, what do you do in your free time, and maybe it’s stupid, but you feel like he’s actually kind of interested in your answers.

You enlist him to help you with the dishes, and as you stand together at the sink you bump him playfully with your hip. He peers down at you, his dark hair in his eyes. He is so tall, and there is a hint of a smile on his lips now. For him, it’s like a full-on toothy grin, and it doesn’t fail to quicken your heart in your chest.

Constantine can’t help but feel…puzzled, by you. Yes, you’re his cute neighbor, who teasingly likes to hail him in the hallway. And maybe he does look forward to the way your eyes sparkle, when he begrudgingly acknowledges you before retreating to the safety of the quiet solitude of his apartment. But you are so…nice. He can just tell, and he has no idea what a girl like you might want with a degenerate demon hunter like him. There are enough assholes in L.A. who would be happy to take you out. Why would you waste your time chasing him down?

And there is that smaller nagging voice in the back of his head. You are damned, and you don’t deserve her.

Fuck if it doesn’t make him want to touch you even more.

Later, he will look back on this as a moment of weakness. You, looking up at him with your big eyes, like you're old friends. You made him feel, for a fleeting moment, like he wasn't some doomed asshole with nothing to live for. Like he was an actual person. A man who could matter, to someone. Maybe even to you.

When you splash him with a flick of dishwater after he insults your favorite TV show he narrows his eyes down at you, and you get the fluttery feeling that he might like to eat you a moment before he cups your cheek in his big hand and catches your lips in a kiss. It’s everything you’d hoped for, even if you never actually expected it to really happen. Maybe the wine helped? Or maybe…he likes you? Luckily you get over your surprise, standing on tiptoe to meet him, looping your arms around his neck.

You yip with surprise when suddenly he lifts you to sit on the sink, pulling you close as the kiss deepens. “Was getting a crick in my neck…”

Your answering laugh is shaky at best. “Sorry.”

“Is this why you invited me over?”

“Sort of?”

He lifts an eyebrow at that, waiting for further explanation. You reach up to toy with his collar, tracing the line of his loosened tie, totally distracted by the shape of his collarbone and what’s bared of his neck. This man has a jawline that looks like it was sculpted from stone. There’s no shortage of beautiful people in L.A., of course, but you’ve never met anyone quite like him. He doesn’t seem vain, an oddity in this town, but underneath his rumpled suit this man definitely has the physique of a movie star. You try not to dwell on how odd it is, that he would choose to spend his Friday night with you.

“I mean, I’m definitely not complaining,” you offer with a sly little smile.

However, his answering expression is nothing less than stern.

“I’m warning you now, sweetheart. I’m not boyfriend material, and I’m not going to be your project.”

Even if both of those things may have crossed your mind, your thoughts are too hazy with lust from his lips on yours. Maybe he’s a grouch…but he’s a great kisser.

“Okay.”

“Good.”

He kisses you again, and you melt even more under his exacting touch. Those mitts for hands make you feel small, and you arch against him as they travel the ladder of your ribcage to your spine.

The wine was good, but you know you are mostly drunk on him.

Then he is lifting you again, like you weigh nothing, carrying you to the couch. You settle down into the worn vintage cushions and make-out like teenagers, all lips and teeth and pawing hands.

You’re the one who actually initiates something further, pulling off your shirt, and John blinks as he takes in the swathes of your bare skin. He glares at your lacy bra like it owes him money, and you can’t help but laugh breathily. You haven’t felt thishappy in a long time, truth be told.

“Something funny?” he asks, nipping at your neck. With a flick of his fingers your bra falls away, and your breasts are in his hands, and you forget how to speak intelligibly. With his lips on your nipples you manage to loosen his tie without strangling him, unbuttoning his shirt with an increasing desperation. You sigh when at last the bare skin of your torsos is pressed together, his weight pressing you down into the couch.

It occurs to you, how small your couch is, and this man is definitely over six feet tall. “Would you prefer…the bed?” you ask between kisses.

“Up to you.”

You nod, but find you can’t really stop kissing him long enough to move. You can feel the impressive length of him through his pants and yours, aligned with your center and you dry grind, thinking even that is wonderful. He, however, lets out a frustrated growl, and pulls you to your feet again.

Dizzy with desire, you lead him by the hand to your bedroom, and you make it there eventually between kisses and shedding the rest of your clothing. His thick fingers between your legs are a marvel. “So fucking wet for me,” he groans, and it’s too embarrassing to admit, but sometimes after seeing him in the hallway you’ve fantasized about something like this going down, and it always leaves you soaked.

“I…like you,” you admit, moaning as a second finger finds its way inside you, his thumb circling your clit.

“I still don’t get that,” he admits, but kisses you hard before you really have a chance to answer. It would be a little too crazy, to tell him right now that you’ve always just felt pulled towards him, like the Universe was giving you a nudge any time you saw him. He’d laugh at you, or he’d leave, and either of those at this point would be unbearable.

You are close already under his masterful touch, and you whine even as you flex your hips, all your muscles tightening in anticipation.

“Don’t make me cum yet,” you beg. “I want you.”

He groans in response to that, desperately pawing through the pockets of his pants on the floor for a condom. You watch with stars in your eyes, propped on your elbows as he rips open the packet and rolls it on that impressive length, your lip between your teeth. You feel empty while looking at him like this, longing to be filled to the brim.

There is a moment of raw eye contact between you that sears your soul, as he pulls you to the edge of the bed with those large hands on your thighs. For a fleeting second he looks almost vulnerable. It’s there and gone like a ripple in a pool, then his thick tip is at your entrance, and he is slowly pushing himself inside you.

It’s better than you ever dreamed, and you arch against him, moaning as he works inside.

“Fuck you are tight,” he pants in your ear, your walls clenching around him, seeming to fight him even as they crave the relief of his big cock stretching you out. You breathe deeply, easing him in. When at last he bottoms out inside you, your head rocks back behind your shoulders, blissed out.

“God, you feel good.”

This man actually snorts at the comment, though his voice is pure gravel, rough with need. “He wouldn't appreciate you saying it about me.”

Your laugh is half moan.

“What, are you on a first name basis?”

“Yeah, sort of.”

You're not sure what to make of that, and you're too cock drunk to even begin to reason it out.

He can tell you're a nice girl. Or at least, that's his perception of you. So he doesn’t bend you at impossible angles or whisper filthy things in your ear. Really, there's no time for it. Just pure vanilla missionary in your sweet little snatch is more than enough to slake his need tonight. He fucks you on your back, his thumb on your clit as he glides in and out of your tight little pussy, your legs wrapped around his narrow hips.

Your pleasure builds in the cradle of your hips, wound so tight you feel like you'll either die, or fly. Usually...alright, it's never like this for you the first time with someone. There's always fumbling, and awkwardness, and half the time, if you're honest, a faked orgasm because you're too shy or too embarrassed to ask for what you really need from a new partner, afraid he’ll think you’re too much trouble.

Well, that is not what is happening tonight. Tonight, John is taking care of you, and you can hardly believe your luck.

“You gonna cum for me, baby?”

“Yeah.” Your reply is breathy, and you almost laugh just for the pure, unexpected joy you feel in that moment. “Oh, John...” Your ability to say real words escapes you as your body erupts with scintillating pleasure spreading through your loins. You actually scream, and the fierce clench of your cunt around him brings him too. He loses himself with a groan, his face buried in the curve of your shoulder as he shudders against you.

Afterwards, you are laying against his broad chest, his heartbeat a steady drum in your ear. You don't know it, but this is not something John Constantine usually does. Snuggling. But you are sweet and soft in his arms, and he can't quite bring himself to vacate the premises just yet. In fact, he's so comfortable that he dozes, and you follow close behind him.

In the middle of the night you wake to kisses on your neck and caresses down your curvy side. You sigh, arching into him. You feel his manhood at the seam of your buttocks, his thick head kissing your hole.

“Fuck. Sorry,” he whispers with a shuddering sigh, rolling over to reach for his pants again. How many condoms did he bring? The fact that he's not careless with you, even in the sleepy haze of the early morning second round, is incredibly endearing to you. How many times have you had to insist, and been made to feel like an uncool bitch for not wanting to risk pregnancy or disease in the heat of the moment?

Maybe it's utterly insane, but you're half in love already as he hauls you on top of him, his cock freshly capped with a new Trojan Magnum.

You are still drenched from earlier, and it's no problem to impale yourself upon him.

In the blue dark of early morning your eyes meet his, and again you sense that fleeting vulnerability before he distracts you with that clever fucking thumb finding your sensitive bud. He works you just right as you ride his beautiful dick with your back arched taut as a bow, his other hand toying with your nipple. It makes you cum in record time, so quickly it's almost embarrassing, though he doesn’t seem to mind. Within a minute he's followed along with you, his big hands digging into your hips hard enough to bruise as he reaches his own release. Your name on his lips raises gooseflesh all over your body, as though your lovemaking has invoked something powerful, something binding.

You collapse against his chest, and the both of you nearly fall asleep again, with him still inside you.

“Let me get this thing off,” he requests gently, and with a plaintive little groan you roll off of him, curling in at his side. He knots the condom before throwing it in the general direction of the bin. You are both too tired to care if it actually hit home.

Again, you snuggle close and the two of you doze tangled together until morning light streams through the window.

You wake to kisses on your forehead this time. It's a miracle you rouse. You're a heavy sleeper—and he worked you out.

“I have to go, honey.”

“Want breakfast?” you murmur, half asleep.

“Yeah, but I can’t. Rain check?”

“Okay.”

Through half lidded eyes you watch as he gets dressed, half way, at least. A good portion of his clothes are still strewn around the living room.

My god, what a beautiful specimen of manhood you bagged last night. Nonna would be proud. She was an appreciator of male beauty, and if you told her that her special recipe had gotten you the best sex of your life with the handsome boy next door she would have cackled with delight.

“See you soon?” you dare ask as he buttons his pants.

“Yeah,” he agrees, after a pause, bending down to kiss you one more time, with tongue this round.

“Careful mister, or you'll start round three.”

“Jesus, woman,” he teases with that heartbreaking almost-smile. “You've drained me dry.”

You look him over appraisingly.

“Doubt it.”

He huffs with laughter, shaking his head.

“Bye, y/n.”

You sigh.

“Bye, John.”

With a surprisingly heavy heart, you watch the best lay of your life slip out the door. You really hope you'll get to do this again, and not just go back to awkward acknowledgements in the hallway.

***

Maybe John Constantine had told you he’s not boyfriend material.

But earlier that day, while he was having a smoke out on the sidewalk, he found himself looking over at the wares of a flower vendor and wondering if you would like them. He didn’t buy any, of course.

He wasn’t a total sap.

But it’s possible as he scales the stairs to his apartment, there’s a lightness in his heart as he thinks of you, and the possibility of seeing you in the hallway.

That's when he finds your door ajar, and your apartment ransacked, and a note in red ink on the table addressed to him.

If you want to see your girlfriend alive again, come to this address.

It’s a place in L.A. that’s deep in vampire territory, and something black and heavy weighs like a stone in the pit of John’s stomach. He’d deported a few big players of the local coven not too long ago, and he’d figured the Master would want revenge, but this?

Fucking diabolical—and just their style.

Goddamn vampires.

Without a moment to lose, he goes to his apartment to get his kit, praying he’s not too late to save you.

#constantine 2005 #constantine #constantine x you #constantine x reader #keanu reeves #keanu reeves x you #john constantine #constantine x y/n #constantine fic #constantine imagine #constantine fanfic #the girl next door constantine x reader fic

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raphael-angele · 28 days

Text

If Hades raised Nico and Bianca Part 23

I just read Punderworld on Webtoon and I couldn't love it more.

Bianca and Nico: Nonna!

Demeter: Oh, hello, little sprouts. *hugs them close* Oh, how are you?

Bianca: Good.

Nico: Great!

Demeter: I can see that. *sees Persephone* Hello, my dear. *hugs her*

Persephone: Hi, mom.

Demeter: *sees Hades* Hades

Hades: Good day to you, too, Demeter.

Demeter: Mhm. So! Have you eaten yet?

---

After telling Demeter how they went to Camp:

Demeter: I see. And how has camp been treating you?

Nico: It's amazing! There's all kinds of things we get to do. We get to shoot an arrow, fight with swords, build all kinds of things-

Bianca: In short, it's been a thrill and Mr. Chiron has certainly been very accommodating.

Demeter: Well, that's good to hear.

Bianca: Not particularly fond of some campers, though.

Demeter: Hm? Well, you have to be vigilant. Always look out for yourselves and each other.

Persephone: Mom, please don't tell them to trust no one. They won't be able to make friends that way

Demeter: I'm just saying that they shouldn't trust just anyone. You'll never know, they might sweep them away to a place where you wont be able to find them and they won't come back until 4 months later *eyes Hades*

Persephone: Mom

Hades:

Demeter: I'm just saying. Bianca is a very beautiful young maiden. It's only a matter of time before someone asks for her hand.

Bianca: I personally don't think that will be a worry, nonna. I'm not really interested in settling down with a man anytime soon

Demeter: Why is that? Do you choose to focus more on your work?

Bianca: Oh, it's not really a-

Nico: Bianca's a Hunter of Artemis!

Demeter: Is that so?

Nico: Mhm. She goes on missions with Ms. Artemis and the other hunters.

Demeter: Well, isn't that lovely. A hunter of Artemis. How did you come to that decision?

Bianca: Uhm...I just...felt that I wanted more than to stay in a camp and do the Gods' bidding. I didn't want to be labeled simply as a child of Hades. I wanted more for myself; to make something of myself besides that.

Demeter: *hums* Well, you are a very wise girl. And I do not doubt that both Hades and my daughter are proud of your choice.

Hades: And we are. Very.

Demeter: *chuckles softly* Now, then. How about you, Niccoló? How has camp been treating you?

Nico: Uhm, well, it's not as impressive as Bianca's but I got a boyfriend.

Demeter: Well that's certainly something. But you should know better than to fall in love with whoever you meet, little one. You'll never know they might-

Persephone: Mom, seriously!

Demeter: Anyway, why don't you tell us a little bit about him?

Nico: Well, he's a child of Apollo

Demeter: Oh, a child of the sun! How nice. He must be a very good archer then

Nico: Oh, yes, but he's more of a healer. He works in the infirmary and tends to the campers who get injured there.

Demeter: Not as impressive as Bianca, you say? You got yourself a doctor! That's very impressive. You're already doing better at relationships than my daughter

Persephone: Mom, seriously! Stop!

Demeter: Persephone, the boy got a doctor as a boyfriend at 13. Don't try and tell me that that is not impressive.

#pjo #percy jackson #percy jackson and the olympians #nico di angelo #bianca di angelo #hades #persephone #demeter #punderworld #solangelo #will solace

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gweninred · 3 months

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OMFG HEAR ME OUT I've been thinking about this for a while now and I'm going insane.

Reader organizes a very romantic dinner (candlelight, ambient music and all that), making Melissa's favorite dish, getting her flowers..

. and THEN reader gets on Mel's lap and end up giving her lap dance and just makes Melissa feel good and fucking her silly till she's absolutely spent..

ok im gonna go hide now..

Taking care of

I love this request! I’m not comfortable writing smut, so I won’t be writing that part, I’m sorry. Just leave the last part to your imaginations 😭 I hope you like it anyway and thank you for requesting!

You placed the flowers you had bought for your favourite redhead in a vase. White tulips. You set them on the middle of the dining table, then starting to make dinner, gnocchi. Once again Melissa’s favourite. She had thought you how to made some of her famous Italian dishes. Following her family recipe you had saved in your notes app to make the dish. You noticed your girlfriend was quite stressed lately, ever since she had to teach two grades, she would come home extremely stressed and exhausted from her day at work. But the oh-so good girlfriend you are, will always be there for her to comfort her and help her relax.

By the time you had finished dinner you had placed it in the oven to keep it warm until the redhead will be coming home. You made sure to light up some scented candles, switch the big lights off and turn on some slow romantic music.

“Baby?” Melissa shouted after banging the front door close. You could hear her bag drop on the floor. “I’m upstairs!” Stroking your hands down your sides you looked at the dress through the mirror. A hum of approval came from the teacher as she peaked her head through the opening of the doorway. “Looks good on ya.” You smiled. “There you are, honey.” You wrapped her arms around her neck, pulling her close. Her arms found its way around your waist, kissing the side of your face. “I missed you.” She murmured against your neck.

“Come with me.” You pulled away to grab her hand, leading her downstairs. You made her sit down at the table.

“I called your mom to get the recipe. I know you’ve thought me how to make it but I kind of forgot.” You giggled, placing the redhead’s favourite dish in front of her.

“This is so thoughtful and sweet, honey.” Melissa grabbed your hand from across the table, she kissed your knuckles. “And you got me my favourite flowers.” Another kiss was placed on your hand.

“I hope it’s good, I don’t want you to break up with me for making the sauce wrong.” You joked, Melissa’s gaze softened.

“Of course not.” She was in a sweet mood, you cooking her favourite dish and getting her flowers clearly did something to her. “Well, I’m not sure nonna is going to let you marry me actually.”

“Oh, hush now, eat.” You popped open a bottle of red wine, pouring two glasses. “Barolo.” You took a sip, humming at the taste. You had bought the bottle of wine on your vacation in Italy, saving it for a special occasion to open the bottle. “And? Would Nonna approve?” Melissa chuckled, her mouth stuffed.

“I think she would, you nailed that.” Proud of yourself you take a bite, nodding in approval.

After dinner Melissa insisted to do the dishes, her filling the dishwasher while you cleaned the rest of the kitchen. “I made dessert for us too, but we can eat that later tonight, I’m full.” The redhead pinned you against the kitchen counter. “Me too.” Her voice was raspy, one hand resting on the side of your face her other hand leaning on the counter, keeping you trapped. Her hand moved in your hair, brushing it through her fingers. Your eyes lingered down to her lips. Closing the gap between you, the teacher kissing you. You caressed her curves.

“I missed the taste of your lips.” You murmured against her lips, kissing her again.

Then Melissa pulled away, to sit down again. “Hey! Get back here.” You whined. A chuckle was heard from your girlfriend. You followed the other woman, taking a seat on her lap. “I’m so lucky to have you, you’re so good to me, honey.” She placed her hands on your thighs kissing you. The kiss was heated and became sloppy.

“No, I’m so lucky to have you!” You pulled away to push your pointer finger against her chest, the redhead giggling. “Just let me make you feel good.” You whispered in her ear, then biting it slightly. Melissa had to drawn back a groan. You got up from her lap and went to stand behind her. Your hands placed on her shoulders, you glide your hands over her breast down to her waist. Melissa placed her hands over your guiding them over her body. Your head was next to hers, kissing her neck.

“You have no idea what you are doing to me.” She rasped out, leaning back into your touch. “What am I doing to you?” You walked around her, taking a seat on her lap again, Melissa’s hands immediately grasping your butt. “You are driving me wild.” She went to kiss you again.

“Have me just like this.”

#lesbian #fanfic #abbott elementary #gwendoline christie #lisa ann walter #gwendolineuniverse #larissa weems #larissa weems x female reader #larissa x reader #larissa x y/n #melissa schemmenti fanfic #melissa schemmenti x you #melissa schemmenti imagine #melissa schemmenti x reader #melissa schemmenti

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bat-the-misfit · 1 year

Text

idk what's on eurovision this year and tbh idc bc i'm latino but i know that i'll root for italy even if their song of choice is shitty

#gotta make nonna proud #i'm too lazy to google now but maybe i'll listen to it later #ANDIAMO ITALIA ALL THE OTHER COUNTRIES CAN GO FUCK OFF #edit bc i forgot to mention:#what i DO know is that i want portugal to lose bc they colonized my country #desculpem portugas 😂 é só uma piada não me levem à mal

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oneofthetorturedpoets · 2 months

Text

One and Only

Melissa Schemmenti x Reader

Slight angst to fluff

based on the song One and Only by Adele

--------------

You're laughing with Barbara, your head thrown back, your hand on her arm. Barbara has a smile on her face, proud of what she just said to make you laugh.

Melissa is staring at you from across the room, her eyes peering over her wine glass. She looks you up and down, observing your every move. You're amazing with her friends, you laugh with Barb, you debate with Jacob, you worry with Janine, you garden with Gregory, you party with Ava. You're perfect with Melissa, treating her like she carries the world on her back. You look at her like she just gave you air to breathe. You have never betrayed her, never done wrong by her. Melissa knows how you feel about her. She knows if she were to run up and kiss you in the way she dreams about, you would pull her closer. She knows you would treat her the way her Nonna wanted so bad for her. You would give her the security for her to completely open up and never make her feel judged. The stars have aligned and given Melissa her dream girl. The person she has been searching for, since she was a little girl. The one thing out of place is Melissa. Her mind holds her back from the one thing she craves. Every time she goes to lean in to finally capture your lips with hers, her mind races and her insecurities win. She can't do it. The what if's cloud her thinking and they terrify her. Why is something so promising, so simple, this hard?

"Melissa?" you tap her out of her thoughts, she looks up at you from her seat.

"Hey, how's it goin'?" you laugh.

"I was about to ask you that, you've been in the corner this whole night. Are you okay? Do you want to ditch? I'll distract Ava?" She shakes her head.

"No, just thinking too much." You grab her hand, pulling her up as she sets down her glass. She adjusts her red dress, shuffling it down slightly.

"Dance with me? We can clear your thoughts on the dance floor, mi amor." The pet name causing her cheeks to turn bright red, luckily her makeup covers most of her blush. You lead the way, as a slow song comes on. You set your hands on her waist as hers wrap loosely around your neck. "What on your mind, Mel?" She sighs deeply, laying her forehead on your collarbone.

"Complicated things, Hon."

"Maybe it's not as complicated as you're making it to be." you reply, making her feel as if you've read her mind.

"It's really not, I'm just having a mental battle with myself. Been havin' the same one for years now." you rock her slowly back and forth.

"I'm sure there's a solution to it."

"There is, I'm just not sure if I should solve this one."

"If it will add to your happiness, you should always take that chance."

She pulls away from your chest, looking up at you with unsureness and worry. "I just- I can't." Melissa runs out, her dress flowing behind her. You chase her outside, the wind blowing your hair in your face.

"Melissa!" You call out, only to fall on deaf ears. She bolts to her car, quickly opening the door. You gently grab her arm before she can get in her car. "Melissa if I upset you-"

She shakes her head "It's not you, Y/n... I just can't lose you"

Your brows tie together in confusion "You'll never lose me, Mel. I don't know why you would think that."

Tears form in her eyes "Y/n..." She whispers as you bring your thumb up to catch one of her tears, wiping her cheek. "Why does this have to be so hard?"

You keep your hand on her cheek "Why does what have to be so hard, my love?"

More tears fall from her eyes. "I'm in love with you. I always have been. God, please don't hate me, Y/n"

You smile softly at her, cupping her face. "Love doesn't always have to be hard, Melissa. You know I fell for you years ago." You lean in, brushing your lips against hers before she presses into you, passionately kissing you with everything she can. Trying to convey her feelings into one kiss. A tear rolls down your cheek as you shut your eyes, taking in the moment. The love you have for the woman, filling your heart, making your body warm.

"I'm sorry it's taken me so long to let my doubts go, you're the only one that I want" You shake your head.

"Don't be sorry, Mel." She pulls you in for another short-lived kiss.

She takes a deep breath of relief, letting the weight fall off her shoulders "I don't know why I was scared, I've been here before, I've imagined it all."

Finally, your souls unite, solidifying a love that not even the strongest of force could break, Melissa will make sure of that.

#abbott elementary #fanfic #fem!reader #law #lisa ann walter #my fic #wlw fiction #melissa schemmenti #melissa schemmenti x reader #Melissa schemmenti x reader fic #im back #idk what else to tag #blurb #drabble

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mydearesthrry · 1 day

Text

red cars & red lipstick - h.s.

a/n: this pairing wont leave my brain. enjoy :P. ummm trying out this new smau thing idk tell me what you think!!!

pairing: f1 driver!harry styles (#7) x leclerc!yn

———

liked by charles_leclerc, scuderiaferrari, and 985,161 others

ynleclerc_: the leclercies will always persist and be at a race even if we have the flu 🤗🤗 vvvv proud of u chachi

view all 76,155 comments

charles_leclerc: Thanks bug 🫡

scuderiaferrari: through thick and thin ❤️

harrystyles: You guys got me sick too :(

> ynleclerc_: oopsies

> charles_leclerc: You wouldn’t stop kissing my sister 🤨

this comment was deleted by author

> charles_leclerc: Oops

> harrystyles: Oh my god

user1: HARRY WOULDNT STOP WHAT?????????

user2: OH MY FUCKING GOD

user3: THIS IS THE CRAZIEST FUCKING THING IVE EVER SEEN

user4: YNRRY CONFIRMED?????

———

— ferrari’s headaches ❤️ group message thread:

y/n : harry…

charlie: oh no

harry: Charles.

y/n: harry pls dont kill him

charlie: IM SORRY

charlie: I THOUGHT I WAS ON MY OTHER ACCOUNT

charlie: I DELETED IT AS SOON AS I REALIZED

y/n: chachi girl calm down

harry: Yeah. Lol. I’m kidding, it’s not that serious.

harry: I don’t really mind.

y/n: HARRY THATS EVIL

harry: ;)

charlie: you are so evil oh my gods

harry: Love youuuuuuu

———

liked by harrystyles, landonorris, and 2,167,551 others

ynleclerc_: i knew i loved u when u drove me home when i turned eighteen and now i know i love u every time i look at u. cats out the bag lololol i love you 7 harrystyles

comments have been limited

maxverstappen1: Wait this wasn’t a secret?

> ynleclerc_: girl

landonorris: You guys are annoying

> ynleclerc_: ur annoyinger

charles_leclerc: Sorry Bug

lilymhe: well… now that thats been revealed!

lilymhe: finally can be on the paddock wearing number 7 😭

> ynleclerc_: OH MY GODDDDDDD

> ynleclerc_: FINALLY

harrystyles: Oh my god I forgot about that

charles_leclerc: This is unfair???? She’s my sister?????????

> ynleclerc_: sorry you exposed us u can deal with the consequences!

liked by ynleclerc_, charles_leclerc, and 3,261,836 others

harrystyles: Lovely weekend ;)

view all 76,155 comments

ynleclerc_: MY MAN MY MAN MY MANNNNNN

ynleclerc_: just audibly gasped in the ferrari garage

> harrystyles: Why are you still there?

> ynleclerc_: idk nonna was giving gelato so i sat down but everyone left :(

> charles_leclerc: Can you get off your phone and come to the car please, your phone is on do not disturb and Lily and Alex have been trying to find you 😒

> ynleclerc_: damn dont air me out like that

user1: IM LIVING FOR THE INTERACTIONS HAHAHAHA

user3: oh this trio is about to be CHAOTIC

user4: charles is gonna be over their bullshit so fast 😭😭😭😭😭

> landonorris: he already is

> charles_leclerc: Already am

#harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fluff #harry styles fanfic #harry styles x y/n #harry styles blurb #harry edward styles #f1!harry styles #7 #sister!leclerc #sister!leclerc x harry styles #charles leclerc

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blackfangedreaper · 1 year

Note

I can’t tell if request are open but could I request luffy reacting to his s/o dancing on stage with this song and dance cover (https://youtu.be/qnPTDEaP9Hw ) ? + marines are watching too if u can do that

HE KNOWS

Pairings: Monster trio + Aokiji, koby, shanks and mihawk x dancer!y/n

Warning: fluff, suggestive themes, cursing, grammatical errors. MDNI.

Tags: @closet-degenerate @h3rfave @iin0va @avaricious-hoe @audreys-works @444katsuki

Note: loved the idea nonna and yes my requests are open.

LUFFY

The sparkles in his eyes as he watched you twirl, drop then swing your hair, you looked so good dancing up there, so good he didn't know if he wanted to join you or let you be. Nami pulled him by his ears when he got too close to the stage unconsciously, too hypnotised by your moves to notice.

Couldn't resist trying to go closer once again to the stage to see you more. His jaw dropping when you dropped to a split. His pupils shaking at your sensual movements swallowing thickly when you blew a kiss at him. He loved it every second of it.

His eyes drooping slightly taking a halflidded form at the way you swung your hips, hunger present in his eyes as he maintained eye contact with you all through. He wanted something and you'll give it to him,- "Hey, do the thing you did with your waist on stage!" -He knows.

ZORO

His gaze trailed all over your body as you danced in those thigh high 4 inched heels, the ones you dragged him out to buy with you. And they fit you so well, the leather sticking to the skin of your thighs perfectly.

His pants tighening as your ass hung in the air for a moment, your movements were so sensual, it drove him crazy. He couldn't wait to get you alone, maybe you'll give him a private dance, on his dick that is.

He couldn't take his halflidded eyes off you, swinging his head back to finish his booze before relaxing on the chair, his arms over the couch, legs manspread and head tilted a little to rest on the couch. His eyes on you just like you wanted it- "Greedy little thing, look how you're sucking me in." -He knows.

SANJI

This one was on the brink of passing out but he had to stay awake, he had to. Just watching you swing your hips to the beat of the song had blood flowing out through his nose in spurts.

Tears in his eyes as you winked at him, his nose stuffed with tissues and cheering a muffled. ''Y/n-chwan". His eyes wide open as not to miss a single moment. His eyes almost rolled back when your ass hung up in the air.

God knows he's horny and he's not too proud to beg after your little dance he'll show you the bed then after, breakfast in bed. You'll just love what he has planned,- "Hm? Faster? Whatever you want sweetheart." -He knows.

AOKIJI

Was very flustered although not visibly. He was trying to play it cool, but his eyes were erratic behind his shades. Whistling when your ass jiggled in those short shorts or when your boobs bounced in your crop top.

Tapped his feet steadily to beat as he watched you twirl on the floor before getting up slowly, his normally cold body heating up at your halflidded stare.

All that cake and he couldn't wait to give you some filling and with the look you had on your face you wanted him to hit it till you lose all feeling,- "Ah... What mess, what's the point of filling you up if you'll just pour it back out." -He knows.

KOBY

Would have passed out if helmoppo hadn't held him steady, he's seen you dance before infact he watches you dance all the time but this somehow feels different watching you dance all so sexy especially in those clothes, it stirs up something in him.

From the moment you turned around he knew what you were doing, watching you back it up then drop it down. All eyes were on you and he wasn't gonna lie you've got him watching too.

Using his marine uniform to fan himself a little, was it him or it was hot. Either way he was sure it was you, the way you smirked at him you wanted something from him and what exactly do you want?- "Pl-Please, don't tease!" -He knows.

SHANKS

Kept smirking with an obvious blush on his face. No way was he going to let you get away with teasing him like that. Just look at you, dancing so sexy and even in sexier clothing, if you think he'll let you down slowly you've got another thing coming.

Teeth tugging on his bottom lip as he watched you dip and twirl. A little 'fuck' escaping his mouth as his eyes followed the way you caressed your body. Groaning when you smiled suggestively at him reminding him of your earlier statement.

"Shanks, I'll be back after this one song, then you're taking me home." You winked before leaving him with a kiss on the cheek as you swayed all the way up the stage. The smirk on his face never dropping as he thought of all the things he'd do to you tonight and only- "Hahah! Not so bold now huh?!" -He knows.

MIHAWK

He smiled into his wine cup, sipping the drink as he eyed your movements. He leaned back into the bar stool groaning when you dropped it down and whined, you were going to be the death of him.

His attention on you and noone else, watching it bounce as you danced, the way you licked your lips to tease not only him but the others in the crowd. Chuckling a little when you smiled innocently in his direction, well aren't you cute.

The atmosphere, the clothes, the bloody song, it was all you, you knew the attention it brought but to be honest he wasn't all that surprised he knows you love the attention that you get when you move and You know,- "Eager Eager, a little patience won't hurt, querido [darling]." -He knows.

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