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#It Takes More than a Pretty Face to Fall in Love
omitea · 2 days
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𝐉𝐉𝐊! 𝐌𝐄𝐍 + 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐘 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐀𝐁𝐎𝐔𝐓 𝐘𝐎𝐔
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. ft. gojo, geto, nanami, higuruma, choso & toji.
. content. fluff, slight mention of intimacy in geto’s. but most fluffiness. chubby reader hinted in toji’s.
. note. gags. this sucks. dont question my writing, idk how to do that anymore. also im sleepy so idk if its proofread well enough. goodnight.
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☆— 𝐆. 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔
gojo can’t get enough of seeing you smile. the way your lips stretch, eyes squinting slightly and he swears he can see them sparkle under the slight dimmed lights. but oh he loves the feeling of your pretty smile against his lips. swollen lips molding against each other before he feels what he desires the most. when he pulls away and looks at the sight of your spit covered lips, he can’t help but mirror your own expression. the dimples denting his pink cheeks only cause your smile to widen. and gojo thinks that he fell deeper in love if that was even possible.
☆— 𝐆. 𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐔
geto loves the way you subconsciously scrunch your nose; when you’re concentrating or if you dislike something. he honestly thinks it’s adorable and sometimes you catch him staring before he extends his calloused finger to boop your nose. he also took notice the slight scrunching of your nose during intimate times. a soft expression of slight pain mixed with pleasure as he tends to you with such gentleness. words of affirmation leaving his parted lips as he traces the bridge of your nose, leaving a soft kiss on the tip of it. its like a habit you can’t get rid off, because even when you’re crying— your cute, red stuffed nose still does the same.
☆— 𝐊. 𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐈
nanami thinks you’re the closest thing to perfection he’s ever laid his eyes on. all the little traits of you makes his heart swell even more with pure love. you’re so attentive and caring towards everyone and he has to often remind you that you have to take care of yourself too. even though he already does that on a daily basis. a part of him gets thrilled seeing you furrow your brows when scolding him. its not the most appropriate, he knows that. and he tries anything and everything to keep his mind away from those thoughts. but for now, he should definitely listen to what you have to say.
☆— 𝐇. 𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐔𝐌𝐀
higuruma finds it adorable how often you zone out while your gaze remains on his face. eyes trailing the curves and bumps; something you’d compare to a perfectly sculpted sculpture that’s been placed in a historical museum. dare he to say your lips part every time in adoration once your eyes settle on his nose. he often has to look away to hide the heat growing beneath his pale skin. the little things you admire about him makes him love you even more than he already has. although, he’s quick to shower you in affection too, to make sure you understand that the feeling which resides in his chest, is mutual.
☆— 𝐊. 𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐎
choso is so grateful for you, it’s something he tells you a lot. the patience you have with him, the way you take care of him; including the smallest things. it was often overwhelming for him to express his feelings, but you made it all the more easier. you make loving him look so easy, and it truly is. he learns more from you than he ever thought was possible. he tends to adapt to the things you do, not noticing the small changes within him. everything you do feels so natural, and he came to conclusion that loving you has felt like that for so long.
☆— 𝐓. 𝐅𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐎
toji doesn’t like anything other than having his hands on your soft skin. he could fall asleep as soon as his head find its place on your plush thighs. he loves them wrapped around his waist but laying on them is what he’d prefer more. having his rough, yet warm hand under your shirt is something he looks forward to once he finally enters your home. fingers tracing the path your stretch marks create, leading towards your pudgy belly he likes to fond with. his hand may make its way to your breast if he’s getting way ahead of himself. he just loves how soft you feel and wants to touch all of you at once.
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©𝐎𝐌𝐈𝐓𝐄𝐀. please refrain from stealing my works !
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intoanotherworld23 · 3 days
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Peaches And Cream
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Summary: Joel loves the taste of you, and you love being his favorite dessert
Warnings: explicit sexual content, mature themes, overstimulation, fingering, oral sex, slightly dom Joel, submissive reader, implied sex, praise kink, dirty talk
A/N: if anyone wishes to be added to my Pedro/or Joel tag list please let me know and I’ll be happy to add you. Heart, reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated and supportive. Thanks! XOXO
Tag list for Pedro Pascal: @pedrohoe04 @k-k0129 @livingdeadmaria @angelofsmalldeath-codeine @milly-louise @kittenlittle24 @trisaratops-mcgee @subconsciouscollapse @hooked-on-penapascal27 @red-red-rogue @fellinfromthetop @drewharrisonwriter @vickie5446
Tag list for everything: @iam-laiya @rosie-posie08 @madzleigh01 @alwaysclassyeagle @mytbel0st @shanimallina87 @marvelstarker-mha98 @powellssugarbaby @lora21 @kmc1989
Hall Of Hunks
〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️
Feeling absolutely reduced to a hot and sweaty mess as you laid underneath Joel. Who was staring at your disheveled face. A look of pride written across his face as your body trembled around him.
“I’ve never seen you cum so much sweetheart.” Praising you as a hand covers your eyes in embarrassment. “You did so good for me baby.”
That powerful and mind blowing release had you almost in tears. Trying with all your might not to just cry in front of him. Feeling like that might weird him out a little bit. Since he could take tears as being in pain or discomfort, and then he would stop, and you didn’t want him to stop. Your body was feeling overwhelmed as it continued to shake underneath his fingertips.
“Let me see those pretty eyes.” His deep voice persuades you as your hands slowly moved away from your face to look up at his smirking one.
“Joel.” Whining his name as he snickers keeping his cock still absolutely still inside of you.
“Whadda you need pretty girl?” He teases feeling your cunt clenching around you making him groan.
Joel knew exactly what you wanted, but was still too shy to say anything to him. He always helped you ease your way into expressing what you wanted with him. Giving you a little bit without asking him, and then getting you to finally speak up. Carefully pulling out from your raw cunt your body jolting at the sensitivity from the sudden loss of him. Feeling his cum ooze out of your body his hand massaging your inner thigh soothingly.
“Fuck me baby girl look at you.” Watching as his liquid spilled out of you and trailed down between your cheeks. He was licking his lips wanting nothing more than to lick it all up, and taste how delicious you both were mixed. That’s exactly what he did too.
His hot mouth attaching to your puffy and still wet cunt. Hands reaching out to grip onto his hair as his tongue flicked back and forth on your clit. Back arching off the bed as he slurped away, hands gripping your inner knees as he kept them pushed apart so he had full and complete access to you. Body feeling like it was on fire as he thrusted his thick tongue inside of you. Rotating your hips around to feel more as his nose brushed against your clit.
“Oh god.” Crying out as your orgasm was already swiftly approaching still extremely sensitive from your previous release. Joel looking up at your remarkable expression unable to look anywhere else. Loving that he was the one in control feeling like he held all the power in your pleasure, and it made him feel like a god.
Reaching a hand over to your pelvis as his thumb started to rub circles on your nub. Your senses heightened and overwhelmed not knowing how much longer you were gonna be able to last. Joel could tell that you were fighting to keep going, and he knew what would help you reach the finish line.
“Tastes like peaches baby girl.” His low voice sends you over the edge as your body starts to crumble. Your ribcage rising and falling with each quick breath. Hands falling down to your side feeling loose and numb. Stomach trembling from the resounding orgasm you just experienced. Your battered cunt was so sore from being stretched and abused over and over again.
Feeling a pair of soft lips gently caressing your thighs and inner knees a trail of saliva being left behind. Sex was always amazing with Joel, but the one thing you loved just as much was the aftercare. His touch was always so gentle and comforting as he would help ease you through each orgasm.
“Fucked that pretty cunt so good, didn’t I?” His crude language had your thighs twitch, and you loved it all the same. Joel already knew the answer to the question, but he loved the reactions you would give him just for saying certain words.
“So proud of you my sweet peach.” His nickname had you smiling as Joel pulled you into his arms and laid you on top of his warm body. Listening to the sound of his heart beating, and the rise and fall of his chest was easing you into a slumber like state. “I’m not done with you yet though baby girl.”
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yuukiiqwq · 1 day
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Satoru Gojo was more than ready to propose to you. For you to be his pretty little wife. For you to take his last name. To see you walk down the aisle in a white dress. He has spent weeks picking out a ring for you. Weeks finding the perfect place to propose. Weeks just for this moment. He knows you'll say yes.
Today was the day he would propose. He had everything all set up and ready. The ring box is in his pocket. He just needs to come home to you and get you ready for the date. He had long made a promise to himself. He'll make you happy because you are the world to him.
He then felt a vibration in his pocket from his phone, immediately snapping him out of his thoughts. He opened his phone to see that Shoko had called him. He accepted the call and was about to ask Shoko what she needed before she interrupted him.
"Satoru."
Satoru immediately freezes. Shoko had never called him by his first name. It was always Gojo.
"Come to my office," was the only thing Shoko said before ending the call. Her voice was shaking.
Dread filled Satoru's body. A chill was sent down his spine. Something was wrong, so he immediately teleported to Shoko's office. He was greeted with the sight of Shoko, his students, and you. The students' eyes red from crying. Shoko is unable to look him in the eyes. You covered in blood. Your curse energy completely diminished. Your lifeless body is on the table.
Oh. Oh.
"I'm sorry, sensei! It's all my fault!" Yuji apologies as he cries.
"She saved us." Nobara whispered as she continued to wipe her endless tears.
"We let our guard down." Megumi looks down. He was holding in his pain. "It's my fault. I was careless. They were wrong about–"
Satoru doesn't register the rest of Megumi's word. His ears were ringing, and his vision was blurring. A void in replacement of his heart. The ring in his pocket felt a lot heavier. He stares at your body before closing his eyes. He then turned toward his students with a smile.
"Hey, hey! It's alright, guys. It's not your fault. It was an accident! Don't blame yourself. It's not your fault at all. How about you guys take the next few days to relax! I'm sure this was very traumatic for you to lose a teacher in front of your eyes!"
"Gojo–" Megumi started, but he was pushed out the door with his friends before he could utter another word.
"Here, take my card and buy some stuff to help you take your mind off this, yeah? You guys need rest!" Satoru says as he closes the door. He's glad that he has his blindfold on so the students couldn't see the grief and pain in his eyes. He waited until he could no longer sense their curse energy before turning around towards you and Shoko.
"Shoko. Can you leave too? Just for a bit?" He asked. No. He pleaded. His voice was no higher than a whisper. He can't cry yet. Not in front of anyone but you. He's the strongest.
Shoko nodded and walked towards the door. "I'm sorry, Satoru. I tried to save her. I know today was suppose–" Shoko stopped before she finished the sentence. She bit the bottom of her lips before apologizing once more and then left.
Now, Satoru was left alone in the room with your lifeless body. He took off his blindfold and walked up to you. He held your once warm hand in his. He caressed your cheek as the tears that he was holding back finally fall down his face. He was going to propose to you today. You were supposed to be his wife. You were supposed to be with him until the day he died. But now... he would no longer see you. Your smile. Your laugh. You would no longer be smiling at him. In his arms. In his embrace. He wouldn't get to see your beautiful eyes open. Your voice. He wouldn't be able to hear your love for him. He won't be able to hear your "I love you, Satoru." You would no longer call his name. Oh, how he loved his name coming from your lips. It was supposed to be one of his happiest days. If he could only go back to yesterday. Where you were still in his arms, the two of you whispering your love to one another. Kisses being exchanged. Where you were still warm and alive. Where he can still stretch out his hand and reach you.
Fate loves taunting him with his loved ones. It loves to ruin him. To tear him apart. To rip his heart out and shred it to pieces because he's the strongest. So he'll always fail to protect the ones he loves. Fate is laughing at him because he is a joke. Fate is celebrating his grief. He has losted and fate has won again.
He doesn't know how much time has passed. Him next to your lifeless body, praying that you would just wake up. He wants to join you. Join you in the afterlife. To see you. To be with you. But he can't. He knows you'll never forgive him if he did. He still has his students to look after. A world to save. A revenge to sought after. He wiped his tears away because you would hate seeing him cry. He kissed you gently for the last time and whispered his eternal love towards you and a "I'll see you soon."
He then reached into his pocket and pulled out the ring. Your ring. He slipped it onto your ring finger and asked– "Will you marry me?"
A yes forever unspoken.
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reneezsq · 2 days
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forelsket
forelsket (noun.): the euphoria you experience when you are first falling in love.
❛ !¡ pairing; aventurine; sunday x gender neutral!reader.
❛ !¡ summary; a heartbeat too irregular, breathing quick and shaky hands sweating under expensive gloves. who could have thought getting attached is as sweet as your favorite dessert ?
❛ !¡ warnings; it is specified for both that reader likes anything with sugar.
❛ !¡ a/n; kinda self indulgent for me and one of my besties cuz she loves aventurine too much and i have a big fat crush on sunday (gotta cuddle the angel and the gambler)
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♡–,✎ smitten:;
AVENTURINE
. never has he fancied himself over falling head over heels with anyone for the matter. any sort of relationship he could have formed, or bond to a certain extension, with anybody was surely for his own selfish desires. as a way to get over his life the control he lacked for so many years, a hope to regain mastery over himself and feel that for once in his life, all over again, his choices belong to no other than him.
. and at first he loathed the thought of falling in love. he knew all about the wonders it does on one’s mind: taking away their ability to form a coherent speech, the loss of the mastery of your own body and a certain yearning for the person of your affection. it scared him to some degree that if he ever fell in love he would yet lose all over again the freedom he fought to regain.
. at first, your meeting was only supposed to remain as a simple meeting. you were a new recruit to the ipc and he had been appointed with showing you around the main building. he had never planned to stick around too close or to engage in a full conversation. but his plans were thrown out of the window as he gazed at your pretty face. eyes sparkling at the view of someone’s cake in the fridge with some drool seemingly forming at the corner of your mouth. you looked so… how can he even explain such a feeling to himself or anybody else ?
. at that moment, he felt like simply coming up to you and wrapping his arms around you. only to keep you within his grasp and make sure you will never run away or be harmed. no matter if you are taller than him. but he had to shake away the thoughts to start the visit. and also maybe to know you better, after all only falling for one’s looks isn’t as wise as it can be, knowing how many beautiful people are the most dispensable people out the whole universe.
. just like he had dreaded, you were oh too kind for his heart to take it lightly. curiously peering at every corner and listening to him as he talked about the necessities of the work without too much details. he had to look away more than once and pray the pink dye on his glasses would conceal the ever growing blush on his cheeks. seriously, how unfair can you be ?! making him all flushy inside that he almost wants to melt when you waved him goodbye to go to your section to get to work.
. but, for some reasons, he did not find this uncomfortable in the slightest bit. his body was still his at the end of the day, and only the brushing of your fingers against his gloved ones remained in his mind. for once, he wished to take off his glove to feel some contact for the first time since so long. if it’s yours, he doesn’t feel like he will mind it too much.
SUNDAY
. he never really spared any real thought towards loving and being loved. he had more important matters like the health of his sister and her happiness, his role as the spokesman of the family and all the worries that came with taking care of penacony. so, truthfully, the idea never really came to his mind, and if it did he would discard it away without any real second chances for it to last.
. but during certain nights, he indulges in those kind of feelings that swirl deep within him as he wonders how he will feel if he falls in love with an individual. will his biggest strength to deliver eloquent speeches to move away a whole crowd for his own benefits turn into sand if he gazes too long in the eyes of the one that would steal his heart ? would his face heat up in the haste of their shared love and would he find himself holding their hands with a grip a bit too tight ? who knows. maybe he does want to fall in love in the end…
. the first moment your gazes crossed paths was during a concert of his sister. he enjoys watching those above all else. drowning in her beautiful melodies and allowing himself to breathe in the imagery of a field of flowers where he can feel the heartbeat of the world as he lies down the grass. ah, what a beautiful view of the sky painted in the hues of the ocean. how much he enjoys indulging himself in such lovely views created by the dreams of his mind.
. this is when he first saw you. all panicked in the crowd and breathing heavily because everyone was being too rough and too noisy next to you. he felt a pang of empathy towards this strangely beautiful stranger that got the unluck of being stuck next to so many disrespectful people. and his steps made him walk closer to you. a hand over their shoulder to catch your attention before he led you away from the concert.
. when you two went to relax in a small cafe away from everyone else, he turned on his phone to watch the live performance of his sister’s concert (which he has free access to). maybe you cannot be there, but at least you will still be able to hear her singing and see the thing as a full. afterwards, one drink in silence turned into two, then three as the conversation continued onwards. and he found himself unable to stop it, wanting to know more and more about you. and for once he did not want to know that in case it was needed, he was curious.
. when he bid you farewell and returned home, his sister couldn’t stop herself from telling him he seemed in such a brighter mood than he was at the start of the day. the honest smile in his lips and gaze dwelling back into what had happened that day. he simply told her he got a new acquaintance as he stared at the screen on his phone, with your number on it. well, that was a very precious day now, wouldn’t you say so ?
♡–,✎ wooing:;
AVENTURINE
. he’s insufferable. honestly. when he got over his little crush, all that stayed was a weird mix between the mask he puts over himself for the attire of confidence he had put over his own heart and the clear indication that you might be a bit more in his eyes. however, you will never know if it is genuine or not for a while. a gambler never reveals his cards.
. instead, the sole lead that remained to help you in your decision making was the small gestures he did all the time, his constant bothering you with calls, messages and funny little notes found in your office as well as the never ending questions by his side. one could be a coincidence, two was weird, after three you knew there was no getting away from that sickeningly stunning man you both adored and loathed sometimes (how can he be so adorably annoying ?)
. your missions end quickly, for one reason: you do nothing instead sitting next to him as he bets his life for the fifth time tonight. you know he will win but you cannot help the faceplan on your face as he proudly places down his cards for a final round and challenges opponents thinking they are a bit too lucky. you are no fool in front of his hand behind his back or the unmistakable shaking of it as it rests against his thigh under the table in a closed shaky fist. you never really dared to hold it, as to not break any bound that might last between you too. but as he looks at you to see the fondness with which you gaze at him, he feels like he already hit the jackpot.
. those nights always end up with your fist lightly hitting the top of his head after stealing his hat as a reminder that he is not eternal and he scared you to death. then he runs after you while making sure to remain slower, only to see the sun smiling back at him in all its glory. if you are lucky enough, he will let you wear it. fret not ! if he says no, attack him by the heartstrings with the cute big round eyes and a sad pout gracing your lips. he never won. his maximum is 26 seconds, dr. ratio counted for you one day. how kind.
. the type to use cringe pick up lines, but he is forgiven by his undying attractive looks. would call you the weirdest things during those times to make a bad joke meant to make your heart swoon. forgive him for being so bad, it’s his first time falling in love and not everyone is born with enough charisma to be both lucky in games and lucky in love. a loser, but one you comfort during his most unlucky defeats against your heart with a little peck in the cheeks. suddenly his mood is brighter and he is bringing you along to a shop or a restaurant.
. his money becomes yours the moment his heart was a bit faster and harder against his ribs. you could gaze at a cake from the other side of a window for 0.4 seconds and he had magically appeared inside. not like you complain but your stomach is starting to be a bit more demanding and whiny when you are close to him. he caught onto that and lightly poke you every time before heading towards another dinner you two will share. you will get your cake, but let’s get a healthy meal first to ensure you will stay all pretty and happy. he wouldn’t want you feeling bad over your body because he couldn’t resist your stare. he is no simp, promise (is that his fingers crossed behind his back ??)
. sometimes he comes to your house too. you two act like a couple more than you would both enjoy to admit. him lazily sipping on some coffee and answering calls here and there from the ipc while you are cooking or doing anything really. he could send you a weird meme of two cats biting each other with a “us <3” while you two are sharing a blanket and watching a film at the same time, in the same house, in the same room, in the same couch and almost cuddling. what a funny little man.
. his confession would be sweet. for once, no casino was involved during the whole night. you might think he was perhaps a bit sick but no, he was not ! feeling perfectly a–okay, although his perfume is a bit more prominent and for some reasons he is buying you more things than usual.
. please, let him talk first. he will not be able to say anything if you even dare to utter a word as you two arrive under the starry sky in an abandoned park. with some lamp, he will use morse code:
.. / .-.. --- ...- . / -.-- --- ..-
. your answer was: ..--- ; and he felt like falling in love all over again as you both started laughing over your own dumb love towards one another. ignore the tears, he is just happy. and perhaps this small shooting star was his sister’s best wishes.
SUNDAY
. the first thing he ever does when he goes to meet you is buying you flowers. now you have a ton of bouquets around your house and had to convince him to maybe settle for something that you two could consume or else you would have enough plants for the funerals of all your family members, that is if the bouquets were not holding a deep message. yes, he loves the implicit. the ones he loves gifting you the most are orchids¹, red roses² for the classics as well as carnations³ and sunflowers⁴.
. the embodiment of a gentleman and i am not joking. for him, courting you is not something to be taken lightly. he is playing his future love life on the line and will not allow any mistake to be made on his end. he wants to win over your heart and be a big selfish as to remain the sole object of your affection, and he will accomplish such a goal but being as gentle as he can be with you — without, of course, being too overbearing or controlling with you. he wants something genuine, not you accepting his love because you felt forced to do such a thing based on his status as a leader or place in the family. hence why he will refuse for a certain while to talk about his profession, he will end up telling you, pinky promise, but not now yet.
. going back to the previous subject of him being a gentleman. he will hold the doors open for you, all the time and it can maybe turn into a competition if you try to beat him. his arms quickly around your waist to stop you as you two giggle like two teenagers a bit too smitten. walking down some stairs ? here, his hand. he wouldn’t want your ankle to be twisted. and the feeling of your hand in his is quite enjoyable too. i am also talking about pulling your chair for you (if you sit first he will do this tiktok trend of being unable to move the chair to have you check it so he can pull it for you), letting his shoulder be soaked when it rains and you have only one umbrella as well as kissing your knuckles when you two meet.
. he always has his hands on you, i swear. it is so very obvious he has fallen head over heels with you and even he cannot deny it any longer. but when his hand is always resting at your lower back — your consent is included, if you do not like it he will let you take hold of his arm instead — as you walk through a particularly crowded place in the streets or in a building. always the perfect guide to accompany you to your destination. travel in security, travel with sunday !
. do not think his sister is not involved in his plans to win over your heart, because if you think so you are solely mistaken. she already knows of his adoration for you and even gives him small pieces of advice. after all, she has a lot of fans trying to woo her, so she knows different tactics and will share those that make her a bit weak in the knees to help her brother with his soon–to–be–lover. she went as far as to do a concert with only the two of you, singing a love song while you were humming alongside her tune. he still cherishes this moment when he hasn’t seen you for a certain while.
. he never enters your home without the green flag to do so. the most he did the first few days you went out together was accompany you to the porch and flash a small wink your way, the two of you letting out small laughs at how corny and movie–like the whole ordeal has been. seriously, it feels like a mix of your favorite book tropes with all the cringy stuff that you can view in your favorite romance movies. but you two are a sucker for traditional romance, how can you be blamed ?
. now, for his confession, oh lord. he became the best husband in one night and you were feeling all hot in the face all day. because, yes, he booked a whole day of different activities the two of you could do together. from sharing a simple meal to making some poems. he wrote the best ballads and sonnets you have ever read in the entirety of your life — seriously, how can a man be so talented in such different fields ?
. at the end of the day, you two walked in a park where you both ended up sitting down on the same bench. there was barely no one around as it was late enough already, and when the lamps finally lit up, you saw the whole city come back to life for the night. it was a whole show in itself, to see the advertisements light up, the street lamp illuminating the roads and the atmosphere changing around the two of you.
. after a small quick breath, he placed a present upon your lap and let you open it. it consisted of a music box, playing one of the unreleased songs of his sister you had the pleasure to listen to with him. but there was a particularity: this was a love song. when you gazed back at one another, you both knew.
♡–,✎ engagement:;
AVENTURINE
. the bad pick up lines got worse. now he uses them when falling off the stairs, upon stumbling with his own two feet over some air and when he has a good hair day (clue: he always has good hair). so no, there is no escaping his constant praises and compliments and cringy flirting. but you’ll forgive him, won’t you ?
. he is so affectionate it feels like he became some glue next to you. there is no joke in that. when you two are at home to simply relax he will have his arms around you while doing anything at all. but don’t let your guard down, he might take off his clothes to move your shirt aside and rest his freezing hand upon your skin directly. just to hear your little squeals as you look up at him. his other hand will hold your cheek to feel the warmth burning at his fingertips before kissing it better as his own small apology. during moments like these, make it difficult to regain his love. more kisses for the two of you and more cuddling too.
. even in the casino he goes, he is affectionate too openly. he has really no shame screaming at the top of his lungs how much he loves you and the fact you are all he ever dreamt of having. your head is resting on his shoulder with one arm around your waist. he found that tracing forms on your skin is better than gripping a chip in secret, and now it comes naturally. if you ever fall asleep on him while he plays, he will not hesitate to take off his hate and put it on your to hide the lights from your eyes and allow you a better sleep. even when the game ended, he will stay at the table a few more moments to then give you the correct time to wake up from your little nap. i hope you don’t mind being awakened by kisses all over your face.
. his hat is the only thing he shares, sorry not sorry. his clothes are his and he wants to keep them as such. if you want to wear them he will happily buy you something similar, but the idea of sharing clothes is not something he cherishes that much. however, matching clothes ? this he doesn’t mind ! matching pajamas sets ? check. matching glasses ? check. matching accessories ? check. wearing matching pairs only add to the whole showing off you are his, doesn’t it ?
. he is not that possessive per say, maybe simply a bit paranoid that things might happen to you in hopes of getting to him. but he is truly aware you are capable and will not sugarcoat you (if you do not have any injury, get one as small as a paper cut and he is throwing dramatic gasps to make you laugh), but he will not hesitate to show that he is yours as much as you are his and no one can take you away from him. however, he can have his own insecurities. not look wise, come on that smirk on his face shows that he knows how pretty he is. no, it is more towards his gambling addiction and financial tendencies to spend everything without a care because of his insane luck. he knows that it might be a red flag, or you might be dragged away from him if he continues too much. you can kiss him better or show him an alternative (don’t do gacha games, please, he will know no limits at all you will worsen the problem dearest).
. all in all, you won your own little jackpot by being with him. sure, he has his own secrets and things he will probably never share with you. but at the end of the day you are both satisfied only holding each other’s hands as you dance under the stars like idiots or jump on the water that stayed in the streets after it rained. maybe you are a bit childish, or maybe you simply indulge together in what you always lacked: an innocent and pure love.
SUNDAY
. his money became yours, quite literally. need to buy a book ? here take his credit card. you want to start having weekly shopping sprees with robin ? he will make a new card just for the two of you that you can use. do not shy away from using his money, he wants you happy and he knows that sometimes only acquiring certain items you cherish will fill your heart to the brim. however, he is waiting for a small peck on the cheek and if you bought close you better make a small show for him. the two of you will end up dancing in the living room and it will end with a small kiss.
. the type to be a sucker for any type of kisses. would randomly come up to you, grab your face and kiss your forehead, your cheeks so no jealousy and then your lips. at first you were taken aback but now you are used to it and no real surprises anymore to be honest. you just melt and sometimes kiss him back when he pulls away. aha ! now he is the one with warm cheeks :P.
. he shares his food a bit too much, his plate becomes yours. not the type to give you his plate though. no, instead he will take your fork or spoon, serve enough in it and bring it to your lips. you can never deny him because of the fluttering of his wings that shows just how happy he is to do such a thing. and let’s not talk about desserts. he would buy five of them, eat one spoonful and then give you the rest. i am not hungry anymore, he says, what a very sweet liar he is. that is not his fault, do not blame him please, he just wishes to see a small smile on your face because you love them so much.
. talking about his wings, you can know his mood with how they react. a pretty useful indicator to be honest. if they are a bit down, he is sad or just tired. a few cuddles might fix the issue and if it doesn’t just massage his feathers, but be careful those little wings are still very much sensitive. if they are fluttering, then he is quite happy. weirdly enough they always flutter when you are with him. sometimes he uses them to hide his face if he is a bit flustered. he looks quite adorable when he wants to.
. also not the type to share his clothes, the only exception being his jacket if you are cold and brought nothing for yourself. unlike aventurine he is not for matching sets of clothing, he would prefer if you two kept your own style. but he is for matching jewelries and such. his favorite match is earrings. he will wear the right one most of the time as you wear the left one. his second favorite has to be necklaces. you have a pair of necklaces that go together like two puzzle pieces, and every time you cuddle you let them click together and they remain as such until you have to go to work or sleep or pee.
. being with him is like walking through a street in the middle of the light. his embrace and touches being the few people complimenting you along the way and his comfort being the warm light cast upon you. and when you fall asleep, it’s like having found your own little haven all over again. perhaps, with you, he will learn to be a bit more honest with himself over time.
⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯
orchids¹ – they symbolize beauty, charm and love.
red roses² – they symbolize love and passion.
carnations³ – they symbolize fascination and love.
sunflowers⁴ – they symbolize admiration and loyalty.
(if any of those informations are wrong, tell me and i will fix it asap !)
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TAGGING:: @amxto; @dxmoness; @sweetlyvibe; @quatrdeal
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heartfullofleeches · 16 hours
Note
fake pizza boy yan developed a concerning taste for seeing darling eating his cum after that first encounter and starts bringing a variety of menu items with “ranch dips” and “vanilla shakes”. plenty of visual material to keep the supply up for his next “delivery” and he is definitely not spiraling into crisis just because the only thing that gets him hard for his other shoots is the mental image of darling stuffed full of his—
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(Slapping these two together since they have a similar premise)
Yan Adult Film Star Pizza Boy + Reader [18+]
[Masterbation, Food Play]
-
"Come on..... Come on....."
Twenty minutes till deadline. Since the beginning of his career he stuck to a strict schedule. A simple routine to get the ball rolling as he dipped his toes in the new venture. Now that he had so many eyes on him and his content, Brie was able to take more breaks in between filming, but at this point it had been almost two weeks since he posted anything at all.
He tried everything. His hands. Toys. Videos. Brie even thought about buying pills at one point, but gaining an erection wasn't the hard part of his situation. His viewers were into a lot of things - but if there was one thing that really got their wallets open for him it was when he painted the nearest surface to him with a heavy load of his release. His donations would be flooded with comments from his hands how they wished to be his desk or pillows - or for the opportunity to lick said object clean.
Kind of like how you licked your fingers clean on the day he first met you.
The brief flicker of your face in his mind made his aching length jump in his spit stained palm. The encounter he had with you was all that he could think about anymore. He was obssessed - The innocent confusion as you opened the front door, the genuine gratitude in your expression as you handed him some cash for all his troubles and the free meal. Brie would pay anything to see you sample his sauce again. The way your eyes lit up as the flavor registered on your tongue-
"Mmh....."
What he wouldn’t give to have those lips wrapped around him. If you liked what he gave you so much what better than to get it straight from the source, right? The slick sound of friction grows louder as his hand moves quicker - eyes scanning every corner of his room for more fuel for his fantasies. He wish he had kept the photos he found of you online on screen, but he feared loosing that knot of pleasure twisting at his insides if he took his focus off the task at hand for any reason.
His eyes fall on the drink cup from the takeout he picked up earlier in the day. A boring Styrofoam cup with no clear ties to any restaurant would be the perfect container to bring you another item off the menu. The peach tea he had earlier would be a dead giveaway for any tampering. He needed something thicker, ideally with a creamy texture.
A milkshake.
Who wouldn't enjoy a nice, refreshing shake after pizza? You surely had to be thirsty after eating all that bread. Brie fisted his cock to the image of you on your knees beneath his table - hands gripping the meat of his thighs as your mouth hung open awaiting your treat. You'd look so cute under him like that - his fans would absolutely love you-
A surge of jealousy strengths his grip. Nobody should get to see you like that but him. Those perverts could fotk over their life savings and it wouldn't be enough for Brie to share you with them. Maybe the occasional stream with the two of you couldn't hurt - your face held against his pelvis as he stuffed that pretty throat so nobody could see anything but his cock slipping past your perfect lips.
"Ah.... Y/n...." It's the first time he's said your name. The first time he's let his imagination run this wild. He makes a mental note to cut it out during editingthe. Brie swipes the camera off his desk, angling it better towards his lap and the empty floor below him. He then makes a grab for the empty cup - popping off its lid as he positions the container between his legs. They tremble - barely holding into the styrofoam without crushing it as Brie spits - whimpering as he coats his girth in another layer of his saliva. For a fleeting moment he can perfectly picturing the warmth dripping down his cock as your own - and that's all it takes for him to come undone.
Brie cries out your name with a shakey breath, clutching the edge of his desk for stability as his upper body lurches forward, pouring ropes upon ropes of his spend in the general direction of the cup. It's too much- With it being so long since the last time he came, this hard - tears stab at the corners of his eyes as he shutters, nails peeling chipping at the polished finish of his desk. He misses his intended target at first go, thighs glistening with cum as he hurriedly fixes the cup to catch the remainder.
Brie takes a long pause to catch his breath before wipping off his camera lense, posing with a shakey thumb up as he holds the cup for all to see.
"Shake's ready- Guess it's about time I make another delivery~"
-
"And here you are, one milkshake on the house. We're always trying out new things in the kitchen and like to reward our loyal customers by letting them sample new items first."
Swirling your straw through the thick slurry, you take another sip with a satisfied hum. "Hm. You said this was salted caramel, yeah?"
The delivery boy snaps back to attention - seemingly lost in thought as you gulp down the shake. "Y-yes. That's right- Your thoughts?"
"It's pretty damn good, actually. Been getting kinda hot these past couple of nights so this is just what I needed right about now."
Brie bites down hard on his bottom lip as you place the cool styrofoam against your bare neck, condensation running down to your chest.
"I forgot to ask the last time I can, but my boss finds it really helpful if I get some pictures of satisfied customers to put up. Would you mind if I took a couple of you right now?"
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bookyeom · 1 day
Text
whatever you say, bro - chs
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pairing: vernon x reader word count: 1.2k warnings: kissing, Shrek slander request prompt: "You're cute." "What did you say?" + "are you flirting with me?" "I’ve been trying to do that for three years."
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A/N: Thanks so much for all the support on my 700 follower celebration. You guys rock! I'm doing my best to get through the requests, but there were way more than I anticipated so bear with me!
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Vernonie [8:59pm]: we still on for tomorrow night?
Your heart leaps, like it always does, when Vernon’s name pops up on your screen. 
Y/N [9:01pm]: yeah! see you then, bro
You sigh heavily, throwing your phone down onto the bed beside you and rolling over, pulling your pillow into your chest.
Bro.
It’s a defense mechanism, you know, but it’s getting a bit ridiculous now. You’ve taken to throwing out the word nervously when he gets too close – which seems to be more often than not lately. You’d been worried that your crush on Vernon was getting disgustingly apparent, and so you'd started with this whole "bro" nonsense. Now, you don’t know how to get out of it.
Every time he catches you looking at him and raises a dramatic brow; every time you’re making plans to hang out just the two of you; every time his hand accidentally brushes yours while he hands over a headphone for you to listen to a song – you find a way to call him 'bro'. So that he knows it’s all strictly platonic. Which it’s not, of course – not for you – but his friendship means more to you than anything in this world, and you’re not going to jeopardize that just because you think he’s hot. And kind. And funny. 
Sure thing, bro. See you tomorrow, bro. I love movie nights with you, bro. I love when you show me new music or video games and your face lights up, bro. I love your eyes and the way you laugh at your own jokes, bro. While we're at it, your smile is pretty nice too, bro. 
You close your eyes with a sigh. 
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"Thumb war."
"What?"
You’re sitting on the floor in Vernon’s apartment the next day, arguing over which movie to watch. It’s been at least a half hour of back and forth, so you'd decided to take matters into your own hands, and had proposed the most obvious solution.
"Thumb war," you repeat. "Winner gets to pick the movie." 
Vernon eyes you warily. "Fine. You're on." 
As soon as his fingers curl into yours, you can feel your stomach flutter. His touch sends goosebumps across your skin, and you regret the suggestion instantly, but you must carry on. For honour – and for the fact that if he makes you watch Shrek 2 again you might scream.
You square your shoulders and laugh at Vernon’s face, which has instantly turned competitive. You count down, and as your thumbs begin to battle, you feel the competitiveness in yourself grow, too. 
“Yes!” You cry. You have him pinned. 
You’re counting down when Vernon suddenly surges forward, your hands falling apart as you let out an ‘oof’ and fall to the ground. You let out a squeak as your back hits the floor with a soft thud, Vernon landing on top of you. His arms are on either side of your head as he pushes himself up a little, chest hovering above yours, and you can audibly hear the way your breath catches in your throat.
"Just shut up and let me pick a movie," he says breathlessly, and you’re sure you've forgotten how to breathe. His hips are between your knees, his chest pressed to yours, and you can feel every part of him against you.  
"Make me shut up," come your words, and you regret it immediately. His eyebrows raise, just as surprised as you are, and you swear he falters a little. 
"I will," he says back after a pause, and you can’t tear your gaze away from his. "I'll kiss you." 
The blood is rushing to your cheeks before you have time to think. Around now would be the time that you look away, but he’s so close that you can’t. Your heart is nearly pounding out of your chest, and you’re certain he can hear it. Or feel it.
Your head is spinning as you force out a laugh before saying, "Okay, bro."
Vernon’s eyes search your face before meeting your gaze again. His expression is serious, and you hold your breath as you wait for him to react.
But all he does is stand up, holding his hands up in surrender. "You can choose.” 
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For the rest of the night, things feel a bit awkward between you. You don’t comment on it like you normally would, because Vernon hasn’t said anything, which means he’s probably forgotten and it’s just you that’s making it weird now. You make it through your pick, and then he surprises you by picking one of your other favourites to watch as a second movie. It’s sweet, but you’re confused since he'd caused such a fuss earlier. 
As the movie progresses, you begin to relax a little. You can feel Vernon’s eyes on you as you giggle to yourself, and you shoot him a glare.
“What?”
“Nothing.” He shakes his head. You turn back to the TV, focusing again when you hear him add, quieter, “You’re cute.”
Your head whips back in his direction. He avoids your gaze this time, the only telltale sign he notices you looking shown in the way he fidgets with the remote. 
“What did you say?”
“I said you’re annoying.”
You think ignoring everything that’s just transpired in the last minute is probably for the best. 
“I’m about to be really annoying, then,” you quip – and then you begin to quote line after line. 
It’s one of his biggest pet peeves, and he knows you’re doing it on purpose. You continue, waiting for him to break. It doesn’t take very long.
"Oh my god. Shut up." You can hear the smile in his voice, and you know you aren’t annoying him that much. 
"Make me," you shoot back without thinking, your heart stopping as you quickly remember where those two words had gotten you just a couple of hours before. You think Vernon is holding his breath, too, and you resist the urge to shrink even further back into his couch. Don’t make it weird, it’s fine, you’re just joking, don’t make it –
Vernon’s hand is on your face before you can finish your thought, tilting your chin up towards him – and then he’s kissing you.
When he pulls back, it takes a second for your eyes to flutter open again. And when they do, he’s already looking back at you, unwavering. His thumb brushes against your chin before he smirks and says, eyebrows raised, "I told you I would, bro.”
Your mouth is agape as he drops his hand and turns back to the movie. You feel a bit like your entire brain is resetting as you process what just happened.
“Are you flirting with me?”
“I’ve been trying to do that for like, three years now, so… yeah.”
“You kissed me.”
Vernon looks at you again now, and you absolutely cannot understand how he’s so calm about all of this. Smiling about it, even. “I did. Thoughts?”
Your friend is stoic at the best of times, but his eyes always give him away. When he doesn’t break your gaze, when he just waits while you process, you can see it in the way he’s looking at you — that even if he seems calm on the outside, he’s nervous. Nervous that you’re going to reject him, nervous that he may have overstepped, nervous that you don’t like him back. As if that would even be possible. “I think,” you say slowly, “that the movie can wait a little longer if you wanted to kiss me some more… bro.”
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@wheeboo @tae-bebe @waldau @eoieopda @gyuminusone @minisugakoobies @lvlystars @seohomrwolf @variety-is-the-joy-of-life @christinewithluv @wqnwoos @iluvseokmin
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ithebookhoarder · 3 days
Note
Do you have any criminal minds fics in progress? I’d love to see more of your work for them :)
A Sweet Surprise (Aaron Hotchner x AFAB!Reader)
A/N: Oh do I? Haha. Well, whilst my inbox of requests is bursting this randomly fell out of my brain, so great timing with this I guess? I promise I will get to the other stories soon people - in the meantime, enjoy xxx
Also, if any of you guys enjoy my work, or just feel like it, then visit my Ko-fi here: https://ko-fi.com/ithebookhoarder ☕️
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Warnings: Alcohol, mentions of pregnancy, Aaron being a protective partner
Masterlist
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“Aaron, honey, stop," you giggled, trying and failing to wriggle free from your husband’s wandering hands. "I swear, I am fine. Don’t make me banish you back into the living room. You know Garcia has been dying to get you to play Monopoly and, so help me God, I will tell her you’re dying to be the shoe.“
Aaron’s laugh was infectious and if you weren’t so stressed you’d have melted into him. Instead, your eyes narrowed into a warning glare as he reached for you again. 
“I just think you should let me help you, honey-” he pleaded, falling silent as soon as you heard footsteps approaching the kitchen doorway. You glanced up, watching as your host for the evening, Rossi, appeared, an empty glass of wine in hand. He had clearly come in need of a refill of whatever expensive vintage he had cracked open for your monthly team dinner. 
“Help with what?” he teased, watching as Aaron sheepishly stepped back, as if he was a child caught with his hand in the cookie jar. “Aaron, you may be the boss in the office but in the kitchen? We both know Y/N is the only one I trust to help me cook, so leave her be and come relax in the other room, ok? She clearly has dessert handled.” 
“Thank you, Rossi.” You smirked, pushing Aaron back with a floured covered hand. “I told him I could handle a pie, but you know what he’s like.”
“I’m just offering to help.”
“Which I thank you for, but I got this,” you assured, even if he clearly disagreed. 
“I know, but it’s been a long day, why don’t you let me finish this-”
“Aaron Hotchner, go and sit down. Now.”
Rossi’s eyes widened as he let the bickering continue, waiting until he had finished filling his glass before he decided to weigh in again. He knew the pair of you better than you knew yourselves sometimes and it didn’t take a rocket scientist to work out what was going on here. 
Aaron was protective of those he loved at the best of times, but something was different - and considering you hadn’t touched any of the drinks that had been put in front of you tonight, he had a pretty good idea what.  
“Aaron,” he sighed, placing a hand on his friend’s shoulder. “Come on, come have a drink with me and the team. We both know Y/N is going to be ok. She’ll join us in a minute, or she’ll ask if she needs help.” 
"But-"
"Leave the poor girl alone," Rossi teased, shooting you both a knowing look. “Otherwise, you'll give yourselves away before we even get to dinner.”
Aaron coughed but failed to hide the shock on his face. It was no use either of you trying to deny it, not when your closest friends were also profilers. If anything, you were surprised you two had been able to hide it this long - and it had only been a mere week since you’d first told him the good news. 
“Ah,” he choked, turning slightly red. However, he relaxed as soon as you turned and pressed a kiss against his cheek. He could see you were relieved by the discovery, rather than upset, and that was enough to make him remember who it was he was sharing the news with. 
"Ha! I told youuuuu,” you sang smugly. “And now you owe me $50. I knew you’d be the one to give it away.” 
“Yeah, yeah. Laugh it up, sweetheart.”
“Oh, I will.” 
“Well, congratulations to you both,” Rossi said simply, lifting his glass in a silent toast. He then shook Aaron’s hand and reached to pull you into a hug of his own. However, it was he went to let you go that he paused. “And Y/N? If you do need a break, or want me to finish dessert, I can-“
"Oh my god, Rossi! Not you too,” you laughed, rolling your eyes. “Are you going to tell anyone?”  
“Oh, hell no,” he chuckled. “Given your performance tonight, I want to see if you can manage to keep it a secret from the team until dinner, let alone until work on Monday."
"So much for the being the best profilers in the US," you snorted, remembering how it had been Jack who had first worked it out rather than his usually observant father. He'd been the one to spot the pregnancy pamphlets hidden in your purse, after digging to find the candy he knew you always kept in there.
Of course, he'd only reacted with excitement upon learning he was going to be a big brother - leading to him bursting into the house, asking when he'd get to play with his new sibling... yeah, you'd thought Aaron was about to pass out he went so white.
“Hey, now. In my defence,” Aaron protested, “you're not showing yet."
"So my weird ass craving requests didn't tip you off?"
"Honey, you eat so much weird shit normally... Like, so much. Even Jack wouldn't eat half the stuff you do."
Well, he had you there. "... You still owe me $50."
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bunnliix · 1 day
Note
Okay so what if you're driving home with some of the ateez members but Wooyoung gets really touchy and starts to finger you while trying to keep Seonghwa asleep and trying not to make Jongho and San in the front realize what's going on-
oooo yes! I love this so much. And I love that I woke up to this ask too hehe. And I didn't expect it to get this long but like I'm so bad at keeping my writing short. This is almost 900 words long oml
You’d be trying so hard to not move, so you wouldn’t wake Seonghwa up as he was sitting next to you, his head on your shoulder. Your hand that was closest to Wooyoung moved to grip his thigh tightly, fingers digging into his pants as you took a deep breath in, trying not to outwardly react to his actions. You keep your eyes forward, pointedly ignoring Wooyoung’s attempts to get your attention, watching Jongho and San as they talk in the row in front of the three of you.
“Awwww, you’re really trying to hold back those pretty noises? C’mon, I don’t think the boys would mind hearing how good I make you feel. Might even make them jealous that they can’t have you like this.” Wooyoung whispered in your ear, as his fingers found that spot in you that makes you see stars and a small gasp escapes your mouth, making you panic.
Thankfully Seonghwa didn’t wake up because of it, however San heard it, turning around to look at you with a concerned look on his face, eyebrows knitted together. 
“Are you okay?” He asked you, to which you hurriedly nodded, which wasn’t convincing. He clearly didn’t believe you, but knew he wouldn’t get an answer out of you.
You gripped Wooyoung’s thigh with an iron grip, tighter than before as his pace sped up, his fingers curling inside of you to hit that spot almost every time. You bit your lip to attempt to keep the noises from tumbling out of your mouth, though your breath was clearly heavier than it was before, a sign that you were getting close to your own release.
Wooyoung smirked, he loved seeing your reactions, and loved provoking reactions from you as well. He loved to see how much you had to restrain yourself from moaning because of how well his fingers were fucking you, as you sat with Seonghwa-hyungs head on your shoulder. He placed his thumb on your clit, slowly rubbing circles as he slowed down the pace, letting you feel lulled into a sense of false security.
You take a deep breath in, trying to slow your racing heartbeat, and refocus yourself, trying to avoid squeezing your thighs together for friction. Only to let out a yelp as Wooyoung’s fingers started up a lightning fast pace once again, garnering the attention of the two boys in front of you, as well as some movement from the man leaning into you. 
“Are you okay, noona?” Jongho asked you, concern painted on his face as he turned to look at you. Your looks didn’t help, your face was flushed and your lips were red and slightly swollen from the constant biting to hide your moans. 
You cleared your throat before answering the youngest member of the group, “I’m okay, I promise Jongho. Just pinched myself accidentally and didn’t expect how much it would hurt.” You told him, trying to convince him and San that you were truly okay. Jongho seemed to buy it, but the look in San’s eye said that the man wasn’t convinced.
They both turned back around, and right before Wooyoung started up his actions again, Seonghwa shifted, leaning more into you than before and you held your breath, worried he’d wake up, but thankfully he didn’t. This gave Wooyoung free reign to once again continue on, and this time he was determined to push you over the edge, plunging his fingers in and out of you just as he knew you liked as his thumb rubbed your clit once again. His only goal was to get you to fall apart for him, and since they were close to their destination, he had to do it quickly. 
Your breathing sped up as he quickly brought you to the edge, one hand accidentally grabbing Seonghwa’s pants as your eyes rolled back as the pleasure of your orgasm rushed through you, tiny whines that thankfully went unheard by the men in front of you. Wooyoung smirked as he watched you fall apart for him finally, slowing down the pace of his thrusts as you came down from your high, removing them once you started squirming from overstimulation.
“Such a good girl for me.” He whispered in your ear, pulling his fingers up to his mouth to taste you and cleaning them off at the same time. 
Your head fell onto his shoulder as you tried to get your breathing back under control after Wooyoung’s actions. You closed your eyes, exhausted after having to keep quiet for so long, when you felt fingers run along your folds once again. Squirming and thinking it was Wooyoung, you opened your eyes to quietly scold him, only to find that the arm under your skirt didn’t belong to him, instead belonging to the man who was supposed to be sleeping. Watching the hand emerge from under your skirt, you watched as he pulled his fingers up to his mouth, his tongue darting out to lick at his soaked fingers, cleaning them of your cum.
“If you’re going to try and play games back here, you really ought to be more discreet, Wooyoung. Though, darling, you do taste divine.” Seonghwa commented, almost as if it was a casual everyday thing to talk about. He sat up straight once again, but not before he winked at you, making you blush.
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sturniolothinkr · 8 hours
Text
cherry ⋆ matt sturniolo
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summary: you and matt are exhausted after a long day, but are craving each other’s touch.
contains: p in v, unprotected sex, creampie, cursing, like one use of y/n, aftercare, lowercase intended btw.
word count: 811
a/n: first post, kinda nervous🤕 i haven’t written in a while so please be kind thank u
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soft music was playing from your tv, the blue light illuminating the room in a calming glow. the only other sounds in the room were the soft moans and quiet pants coming from you and matt.
your legs were wrapped around his waist, one hand tangled in his hair while the other was pressed against his back. your nails dug subtly into his shoulder, while matt’s hips were slowly thrusting into yours.
you gasped when he angled himself a bit better, pushing himself even deeper into you as he groaned out your name under his breath. “god, y/n..” he whispered, his face buried in your neck.
“matt, please.” you begged, feeling his lips begin to press gentle kisses to your neck.
you were both exhausted. the day felt like it dragged on for longer than it should’ve, and both of you were equally busy so it felt like you hadn’t properly seen each other for the whole day. matt made his frustrations known through various texts sent to you throughout the day, giving the promise that he would make it up to you.
as soon as his brothers finally retreated to their rooms for the night, matt’s eyes were on you with a look of desperation on his face.
and as soon as you two were in your shared room, his hands were already all over you as he undressed you and laid you down on the bed.
his lips pressed soft kisses everywhere he could, both of you fighting the feeling of exhaustion so you could have your time together.
matt’s thrusts remained soft and slow, while ‘cherry’ by lana del rey played softly in the room. he kept his body pressed against yours, craving the closeness from you.
you pulled him in even closer with your legs, a choked gasp falling past his lips as his hips began to move with more intention on instinct. “god, fuck.” matt whimpered, a shiver running down your spine as his warm breath ghosted over your skin.
as soon as your hips began to lazily rock down to meet his, matt’s thrusts began to grow sloppy as he grew closer to his release.
you clenched around him and let out a moan of his name, tugging at his hair as your nails dug a bit harder into the back of his shoulder. “matt, i’m close.” you whispered into the quiet room, hearing a strained ‘mhm’ in return from your boyfriend.
the music only elevated everything for you. it made the moment feel much more intimate, hearing the soft lyrics and pretty beat play quietly in your room as your boyfriend fucked you.
it didn’t take much longer for you to reach your high, not with matt’s thrusts gaining more speed the closer he got as well. you clutched onto him, barely able to breath out a warning before you were finishing.
your moans grew higher in pitch, variations of curse words and matt’s name escaping your kiss swollen lips. matt grunted into your neck, heavy pants brushing across your skin, as he followed close behind you.
“fuck, baby.” matt groaned, as he sloppily thrusted while his cum filled you up.
a few more lazy thrusts were given, before matt’s hips stilled and he let out a heavy breath. he remained pressed inside of you, the two of you catching your breath as you laid together with your sweaty bodies stuck together.
“i love you.” matt whispered, pulling his head back so he could meet your eyes.
you gave him a gentle smile, and cupped his cheek. “i love you too.” you whispered, making matt’s grin grow wider.
he leaned down to press a kiss to your lips, before he slowly and carefully began to pull out.
“are you okay? was that okay?” matt checked up on you, brushing your sweaty hair away from your face.
you nodded in return, “it was perfect, matt.” you reassured him as your boyfriend got up from the bed. he quickly slipped on his sweatpants, before he rushed to his bathroom to get a wet wash cloth.
as soon as matt returned, he was immediately at your side again and carefully wiping down your inner thighs and spent pussy.
“you’re so pretty, baby.” he whispered, admiring you as he pressed a kiss to your thigh. “so perfect.” he added gently, standing again from the bed once he finished cleaning you.
matt left the room to clean himself up a bit in his bathroom, returning moments later with two water bottles.
he handed you one and collapsed onto the bed next to you in pure exhaustion. “so..” matt trailed off, looking over at you as you drank some water. “same time tomorrow?” he joked.
you laughed as you slapped his arm gently, “you are ridiculous.” you shook your head, a blush on your cheeks. “but yes, of course.”
112 notes · View notes
plush-rabbit · 1 day
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The One Where Adam Steals Lucifer's Babe
Word Count: 4.9K A/N: I had an idea about this, but I wanted to get it out. This was supposed to be headcanons, but it turned into a story!! woo(•_•)  This is also not done. Like I wanted it to be be headcanons so bad, but i need to establish a plot line because im like dumb. um, so yeah. if this does become anything more, i think max three chapter Its written as if Adam is a sinner so yeah!! -
Dating the King of Hell should be easy- nothing short of bliss and love. And it is easy being with the King of Hell, when he has to make appearances, and he has to put up a front. But being with Lucifer is much more difficult. You know he’s not over Lilith, and you aren’t even close to being a replacement for her. And yet, he keeps you around. You can trick yourself that he still wants you, that maybe he does enjoy being with you. But lying to yourself doesn't make anything easier. You walk out of the castle without a word to Lucifer, childishly hoping that he’d figure out that you weren’t there on his own. On your stroll to nowhere in particular, you check your phone constantly, hoping to see a missed message or call from him- some type of form that he still takes notice of you. You have to silence your phone when you feel tears prick your eyes at the empty screen.
You wind up in some sleazy bar, a bit too tipsy, and far too melancholic  to do anything more than swirl a glass of alcohol with melting ice. You watch the condensation drip down the side of the glass, creating a ring over the coaster. Beside you, the chair scrapes, and your spirits are lifted. It’s Lucifer! He’s chased you down and now he’s going to apologize and proclaim his- your shoulders fall when you realize that it’s not Lucifer. The realization leaves you cold and far lonelier than you initially were. Instead, it’s Adam- the First Man. You wonder for a brief moment if he even still calls himself that.
“Mind your fuckin’ business,” he sneers, sitting beside you. He lifts his hand, and the bartender pushes a glass and a bottle towards him, muttering something about a tab under his breath before turning his attention elsewhere. 
You heard he had become a Sinner- the very thing he sought to kill for entertainment not that long ago. However, you had yet to see him since he was stabbed by Niffty. You wonder if his new form has a hole in his back now.
“Take a picture, it’ll last longer,” he tells you, malice tinged at his words, but he makes no real motion to actively wave you off. You’re sure he would have if he was still divine.
A closer inspection reveals that he’s in far worse shape than you could have imagined. A beard that’s in the awkward phase of growing out, deep bags under his eyes, and gaunt cheeks. Hell has not been kind to him. But, what else could you have expected? He was an exorcist- the exorcist- and now, he’s stuck in Hell. Honestly, you should be surprised that his head isn’t mounted somewhere.
You turn back to your drink, and wipe a line of condensation off. “I’m surprised you’d even show your face around these parts,” you mumble, taking a swig of your drink. It burns going down, and you try to hide your displeased expression.
“Fuck you,” he hisses out, taking a long drink from the bottle.
“You know, as a former exorcist, I’d suggest being nice to demons around these parts.” You raise your hand at the bartender, and he walks over, and places the tab in front of you. “You never know who you’re gonna piss off next.” You leave a hefty amount, enough to cover your drinks and leave a pretty tip. 
“What? You’re gonna sick Lucifer on me?” You turn to him, embarrassment hot on your cheeks, and he wears a crooked smile. “Your face and his are plastered everywhere I look.”
With a sigh, you push the check away from you. “Must suck for you,” you mumble. His response is to take a drink from the bottle. “I hated having my picture taken before,” you tell him, unsure if he’s even listening or not. “I felt that they never really got my good side.”
“I’d get photographed all the time in Heaven,” he says in a low tone after a moment of silence. “Bitches could never get enough of me.” You scrunch your nose at the word, and fold the straw wrapper into squares. “Fucking loved it.”
“Wish I loved the camera.” You cross your ankles together, tucking them under the seat of the stool. “I hated being looked at.”
There's a pause in the conversation, long enough that you believe the small talk has ended. You could go back to the castle but if Lucifer hadn't taken notice of your absence, you'd surely have a breakdown. Maybe you could go to the hotel. Charlie would understand. “You still get your picture taken?” Adam asks, his voice startling you. 
You tilt your head to the side, underneath the seat, your legs twist around themselves. “Not as often as I used to. I think it was more like uh-” you wave your hand around and the folded wrapper unfurls itself- “shock value? I think. Like the King of Hell downgrading to some resident.” You smile bitterly. “Not even a Goetia or anything.”
“A Goetia?”
“These magical birds.” You look at him. “You’ve been in Hell for a bit, haven’t you? I’m surprised you haven’t heard or seen them.”
“I don’t get out a lot.”
“‘Cause you’re hated?” You ask, a wicked tone laced in your words. Adam responds by  mocking your voice with the same question. You scoff with a smile on your face. “I wonder why, if you’re such a peach.”
“Go fuck yourself.”
It’s silent. And you watch as the bartender grabs your drink, leaving the coaster behind. A memory of drinking with Lucifer pops into your head- his honeyed smile as he pours you a glass of wine that you would have never been able to afford, to even be aware of such a delicacy that existed in Hell. Never would he have taken you to some dingy bar where less than savory individuals reside. 
You’ve been taken care of. Pampered and adored for a considerable amount of time, before all the light had dimmed. You should have never allowed yourself to get used to such treasures. You glance over at Adam, and wonder if he can understand. “Do you come here often?” You ask him, crossing your arms over the bar. He chokes on his drink and slams the bottle down. He gives you a bewildered stare and you raise your shoulders defensively. “What? I’m just asking,” you say. “The bartender looks like he knows you.” You catch the bartender’s eyes and he quickly looks away. “Or at least enough to keep a tab open.”
“There’s not much to do around here,” he answers.
You fill your cheeks with air and let it slowly blow out through pursed lips. There's plenty to do- sort of. Minus the drugs and sex, most of Hell's greatest features are stuck in other rings. “There’s the Cannibal Sector,” you offer. “You gotta be careful but Rosie is nice and she sells pretty things. I have this hairpin in the shape of a human hand.” Adam gives you a look. “It might be a real hand, huh.”
“The fuck are you even doing out of your castle.”
You deflate. “Rough night,” you say with a sigh. “What about you?”
“Rough night,” he answers
You nod in solidarity. “I’m not usually a drinker,” you confess. “The taste is a bit too bitter for my liking. But being at the castle just wasn’t-” it’s not for you, the pampered life, acting as a placeholder, the King- “I didn’t want to be there.”
When Adam fails to say anything else, you feel embarrassed to even say something like that to the former angel beside you. He wouldn’t care. He shouldn’t care. Why would he ever worry himself over the likes of you, when your supposed partner couldn’t. He sniffs, and places the bottle down. It’s nearly empty. 
“Where do you want to be then?” His eyes are still golden, unblinking as he stares. 
Gold meets your own eyes, and you flicker to the horns over his head, curling overhead much like his former exorcist mask. You look back at his eyes, at the way he holds the bottle loosely. “I don’t know,” you confess. 
There’s a moment of silence, and he finishes the last bit of alcohol. You wonder how many he usually drinks before he goes back home. “You wanna come over?” He asks, and there’s a shade darker that brushes against his cheeks, and he tries to ask nonchalantly, but he toys with the words, and he swallows too harshly for him to not be worried about your answer. As if he’s asking some forbidden question. But, you’re lonely, and you don’t want to be alone in a bar longer than you already have been. 
You look at the exit, half-hoping that Lucifer would be there, ready to take you to his home, and a part of you is glad that he isn’t there. You look back at Adam, and nod your head. “Lead the way,” you tell him.
The sound of the bartender yelling behind you about a tab, has you smiling, feeling as if you’re dining and dashing despite you having paid for your portion. Adam doesn’t seem to care, walking without breaking a stride, just waving his hand without looking back. 
It doesn’t take long before you’re climbing up steps that need to be looked at, rust falling off with each bounce. You’re sure that you can hear something unsavory going on in a room, but a whistle from Adam has you scurrying along. There’s no reason that you should know anything more than you already do. 
You enter his apartment, and take a careful look around. It’s messy- clothes strewn across, dishes left out, and you feel pity for him. A single couch is close enough to the rather small television, a coffee table that has paint chipping and dents is one of the few pieces of furniture in the rooms. A sliding door is closed, a few broken blinds giving you just a glimpse into the outside. “You certainly,” you pause, trying to find something nice to say, “have a place,” you end defeatedly. You stand near the door, clicking the lock into place, as if that would protect you from any dangers out in the world. Perhaps you should be worried about Adam, about the angel who would bear his fangs and be drenched in blood, too excited about senseless murder. But you catch him kicking things under the couch, trying to spruce up the place even if just by a smidge.
“Fuck you,” he says without conviction. He grabs at a pile of clothes and tosses it on top of a chair, leaving the couch clear for you and him to sit. Smiling softly, you take a seat. He places himself close to the arm rest, and watches as you look around. “I uh, I clean- sometimes.” He sounds unsure of himself.
“I like cleaning,” you tell him, grabbing at a magazine on the worn out coffee table. It’s some tabloid, and you see a snippet of you and Lucifer in the corner. You turn to the page where you two are supposed to be. It’s titled as “Issues at Home?” You frown, and turn to another page. “I like organizing and stuff. Um, it helps uh, Lucifer. He does a lot of projects.”
“You don’t got any?”
“I have hobbies, but they come and go.” Your eyes skim the page, talking about Velvette’s new clothing line. You pull your lips into a thin line, a part of you wants to wear her outfits, but you aren’t sure you could pull them off. “It’s all just-” you flutter a hand in the air- “you know, stuff.” You place the magazine back on the table. “What about you?”
He smiles and leans back on the couch, the cushion creasing under his weight. “I like to play the guitar.” You perk at the mention, and watch as he rests his hands over his stomach. “I was in a band. Played the guitar, got all the chicks that I wanted.”
“Were you good at the guitar?”
He nods his head. “Oh, you should’ve fucking seen me. I was like a fucking god on stage.” He holds his hands out and mimics a guitar. You huff out a laugh, and watch as he lets his hands fall. “I got to fuck whoever I wanted. And I mean, who wouldn’t want to fuck me? Look at me.” he tosses you a lazy look, matched with a sly smile, and you can see how people would be attracted to him. “I was the first dick– of course, everyone wanted me.”
“What songs would you perform?”
“Rock mostly.” He scratches the back of his neck. “Crowd went wild.”
“You’d perform in heaven?”
He shrugs. “Most of the time. If I felt bold, sometimes the band and I would do a show on Earth. I’m telling you humans would just throw themselves at you, begging to be fucked in some grimy ass restroom.”
You scrunch your nose. “Sounds gross.”
“It was,” he says with a faltering smile. He cocks his head to the side, and there’s a softness to his words. “Gross as shit, but the girls were hot.” 
You cross your ankles together, and turn to face him. Your arm cushions itself between the couch and your head to watch him. “Do you not play anymore?” you ask hesitantly,
He sucks on his bottom lip, teething at the skin, before letting it go. “I haven’t tried to summon my harp- guitar- shit, thing, since I’ve been here.” He closes his hands into a loose fist and kicks his legs up on the beaten coffee table. “There’s this pawn shop a few streets down, and they have this guitar for sale.”
“Are you thinking about buying it?”
“I have other shit to worry about.” He gives you a look, a fleeting sense of  exhaustion and acceptance that washes over him, that makes him feel a bit more real, a bit more like you. “It isn’t even that good.” He sounds like a child, trying to justify something to themselves. “It’s beat up, and the strings are probably worn-” he shakes his head- “it's not worth it.” You open your mouth to reassure him that it probably is worth it. That despite the condition that it’s in and the price for it, if he wants it, it's worth it. Even if he could never play it, even if it’ll never be restored to its original beauty, it would be his. You only manage to suck in a gulp of air, when a knocking at the balcony door grabs your attention. “Some fucking bird that keeps bothering me.” He looks over at you, and glances back to the door, and back at you. “I have a balcony. Wanna sit outside?”
You nod quickly, closing your mouth. “Yeah.” 
He walks past the door, and leaves it open for you. Just like when you entered, you close the door behind you, half-heartedly hoping that it won’t lock behind you. His balcony holds two chairs- both different kinds and both equally as rough looking. A part of you wonders where exactly he got this furniture. There’s a dying plant shoved in the corner, the leaves brown and stem wilting under the weight of the dying leaves. 
“Quit judging,” he snips. 
You scoff, a smile teasing at the corner of your lips. The air of Hell is cool, wind breezing over your skin and you stare down into the streets, watching as Imps and Sinners live their lives, peacefully uninterrupted. Sitting down, your breath hitches when the chair dips under your weight. It’s quiet between the two of you, silence in each other’s company where you both just stare at the world in front of you. 
You can see the holy light from the embassy, and you can see Heaven’s light- the rings that are protected by wings. It lights up the night sky far better than the pentagram ever has, and sitting under the light of it, makes you wonder if anything is different in Heaven since Adam’s death- or rather, reincarnation. “Do you miss Heaven?” You ask, before you can register the weight of the words that it holds. You turn to him, almost scared of any answer that he would give.
“That’s a stupid question,” he spits out. You don’t respond, and you stay looking at him. He turns his head to avoid your gaze, his legs stretching out in front of him. After a beat of silence, he looks ahead of him. “Yeah,” he breathes out. “I do.”
“What do you miss about it?”
“Full of fucking questions, aren’t ya?” He stays silent, and after a moment, he lets out a soft sigh. “Everything.”
“There’s not many stories about Heaven down here. You know, minus the ones that we all know. The golden gates-”
“Pearly gates,” he corrects. You look at him, and he has his eyes casted down. “They’re pearly.”
“The pearly gates,” you correct, “the clouds, the happiness and peace. I just- Other than that, there’s nothing else to go off of. But I guess, why would I know. Heaven seems so far away, like some mythical place.”
“Your boyfriend doesn’t talk about it?” Adam asks with a sneer.
“No,” you answer without hesitation. “He doesn’t like talking about Heaven. Sometimes-” you lick your lips- “Sometimes it feels like he hates everything and everyone down here. Like he can’t stand the idea that he’s stuck here.” You scratch your neck, and pinch your legs together. “It’s like the memories of Heaven are too painful.”
“That magazine said y’all were breaking up.”
“Maybe,” you answer.
“You can talk about it if you want. Would make this night a helluva lot more interesting.” You look at him. “I’m all ears.”
“And horns,” you tease.
“Fuck you,” he says with an impish tone.
You smile, and kick out your legs. Your phone buzzes, and with hope, you believe that it’ll be Lucifer. Your heart sinks when it’s only a notification from Sinstagram. With a frown, you silence your phone. “In the beginning, it was easy to forget that he was married. I mean, I always knew. He has her portraits hanging, and he talks about Charlie constantly.” You smile bitterly and scratch at your phone case. “I don’t blame him for that, but-” you shrug- “it hurts knowing that he still clings to her.” When Adam stays silent, you continue. “He can be kind- real attentive and sweet. But sometimes, when he’s had a uh-” you struggle to find a word- “a bad day, he gets real low. And I hate to admit it, but he gets clingy and it’s nice to know that I can still serve him in some way.”  Your fingers pinch at the bridge of your nose, and you let your hand cover your mouth. “But then, there are moments, where it feels like he’s actually looking at me- where he’s just everything,” you say wistfully, your hand stretching out in front of you, clasping around the night air. You glance at Adam, who watches your hand as you pull it back to yourself. “Sorry, I uh, I didn’t mean to ramble.”
“So why’d you leave then?”
Perhaps you’d get a biased opinion- you’re aware of how Adam feels over Lucifer, and practically every other inhabitant of Hell. He thinks of himself above any other, his own pride being the very thing that made him unaware of Niffty running towards him. You chew on your lip, your hand scratching over your neck. You need to speak to someone. No one else at the hotel will ever give you a straight answer- or at least the answer that you want to hear.
With a sigh, you kick your legs out in front of you. “I like Lucifer.” You can feel his eyes on you. “But, sometimes,” you drag the word, and your body feels hot, “it’s like he’s not present in the relationship. He gives a lot, but he hardly ever asks for anything.”
There’s a pause. “What could you even give him?” he asks in sincerity. 
There’s a pang in your chest, wrapping tightly, threatening to crush your bones, and leaving you a battered and broken mess on Adam’s balcony. You can’t give him anything that he doesn’t want. He has his daughter, he had his wife, he has his title for better or for worse. All you can offer is a moment of content, and even then it seems that you can no longer do that.
You shrug your shoulders at an attempt of a weak answer. “I know that he’s still not over his wife. Or ex-wife. I'm not too sure of the title and I hate to ask. He gets all mopey and deflective.” You kick at the ground, and insecurity hugs you tightly, and drips into your words. “He stares at portraits of her, and well, it’s hard to compete with the literal Queen of Hell, when I’m just-” your jaw stiffens, and you look at the ground through blurring eyes- “me.” You stand in her shadow without even having met her. “Even when I dress up, I feel like a child playing pretend. I don’t- I’m not like her.” You’ve stared at her portraits that still hang in the palace, and they consume you. Her smile, her delicate hands, and the elegance that is so evident in portraits.  It feels childish to compare yourself to someone so regal and poised. 
“Yeah,” he sighs. “My ex was pretty hot.” Your eyes widen, and you turn to him. “They both were.” He lets out a sigh, and keeps his eyes fixed in front of him.
“Adam,” you squeak out. “I’m sorry.” You shake your head, blood rushing to your face, making your body uncomfortably warm. “I hadn’t meant- I didn’t mean to talk about her with you. I’m so sorry.”
“The fuck are you apologizing for?” He asks, eyes narrowed and mouth twisting to an ugly sneer.
You cross your arms over your chest, bringing them to an ‘X’ where your hands curve over your biceps. “It’s just that I’m talking about Lucifer and your ex-wife.” You frown when he gives you an ugly look. “I just- I wasn’t thinking. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”
He gives a shrug of his shoulders, his gaze still focused elsewhere. “Lucifer already talked shit about how he banged both of them. It's whatever.”
Your brows furrow, and you watch as Adam pats his pockets, fisting a hand into one of his pants pockets. He fishes out a pack of cigarettes, grabbing on and sticking the tan end of it into his mouth. He motions the carton at you, and you pull your mouth into a thin line. 
“If you're gonna bitch about smoking, you're one lame sinner.”
“Eve? He slept with Eve, too?”
“Oh shit.” The cigarette hangs between his teeth, until pulls it back into his mouth. “You didn't know.” He almost sounds apologetic. He grabs at a lighter and it takes a few clicks to light the white of the stick.
“He doesn't really talk about his sex life before me.” You slump further into yourself, your nails scratching over your skin. “It's in the past. I know I shouldn't be hurt over what he's chosen to share with me, but-” you toss your head back, and in the red sky, the stars are dim. “I don’t know. It just feels like another kick on a shitty night, ya know?”
“I’m shitty?” He almost sounds offended. 
“No, no” you shake your head. “If anything, you’re like the one good thing out of this night.”
“Yeah, well, you ain’t so bad yourself.” You turn to him, your head cocked to the side. “You got a nice body. If you weren’t stuck here, I would’ve bagged you already.” You stretch your lips thin, and Adam shrugs, blowing out a puff of smoke.  “You’re easy on the eyes.”
“Thanks Adam,” you say hesitantly. He holds out the cigarette towards you and you wave your hand. “I’m good.”
“So what now? You gonna go back to him?”
“I don’t even think he knows that I’m gone,” you say honestly. The confession makes you feel lighter than you thought it would. “It’s comfortable with him. It’s easy- I don’t have to worry about things, but, I also don’t have to worry about anything. And sometimes, I want to worry. I want him and I to argue about dumb shit, and I want to worry if he’s coming to bed or not, and not being resigned to the fact that I know he won’t.”
The silence is broken by the scraping of the chair, and you watch as he rises, stretching his arms above him, the cigarette pinched between his fingers. “Eve tolerated me,” he says quietly, letting out a breath of smoke. You look at him, biting at the inside of your cheeks. “She loved me for a while. She was devoted to me. But I uh- I’m pretty sure that was because she was made from me.” A hand cups over his side. “Blind loyalty or whatever. But when she bit that apple, whatever she felt for me was gone.” He speaks quietly, and slowly, as if the words and the thoughts of it were slowly piecing themselves together, a puzzle that he had long put away in order for it to never make sense. “She didn’t care what I did as long as I left her and the-'' someone below lets out a scream, and Adam turns to you, his face flashing a moment of vulnerability before he looks away and puts out the cigarette under his boot. “Well, Eve was Eve.” His brows soften, and he looks tired. “I didn’t tolerate her.”
“Meaning?” You ask quietly.
He shrugs. “I did love her. She had a part of me after all.” He looks over at you, and his hand tightens over his side, pulling at the fabric. “But that’s not important anymore.” He turns away, and walks back inside. You scurry after him, making sure to lock the balcony door behind you.
You stand awkwardly in the room, unsure of what to do next. Truth be told, you had planned to spend the night in some dingy motel if Adam hadn’t sat beside you. But now you’re here, in his dingy apartment, truths and insecurities laid out for the two of you to bear witness. A part of you wants to bid him goodnight, and maybe when you’d see him out in the streets, you’d give him a  cordial nod, and remember how he listened and talked about his ex-wife, and he’d remember you in positive light, despite you only being a mess of insecurities wrapped in sin. 
But now, you don’t want to leave. At least a part of you wants to continue this conversation, to keep the comfort wrapped tight around you. You tap your foot against the ground and Adam looks at you, his eyes staring at yours, unwavering from yours. You hadn’t realized just how powerful he stood beforehand. 
“You can stay if you want,” he says slowly, unsure of the words that he’s saying. “Take the couch or whatever,” he attempts to sound indifferent, but you can hear the sincerity in the words, uncomfortable, but sincere. “I got a spare blanket you can use.” His teeth are sharp, and they peek out to tease at his bottom lip.
“Really?” You ask, eyes wide and you take a step forward, and he looks away. “I can?”
His mouth thins into a grimace, and he gives a forced shrug. “Do whatever you want.”
You look at the couch. It wasn’t uncomfortable to sit on, but you’re sure you’ll wake up with a sore back. However, you don’t want to go back to Lucifer, and you don’t want to go to some dingy motel where you’re sure you’ll drink until you’re sick. Looking back at Adam, you nod, a smiling teasing at the corners of your lips, and he finally looks away from you.
“Yes!” You clear your throat. “Yes,” you say in a softer tone. “I’d like that. Thank you, Adam.”
“Whatever.” He walks into his bedroom, and you sit on the couch. He returns with a blanket, and he stands at the end of the couch, looking at you. “I’m not making you breakfast or anything. You gotta figure that shit out on your own.” You nod. The only real worry that you have is that your phone’s battery is at an uncomfortable percentage that you aren’t sure is going to last you.
“I hope Hell is nice for you.” He raises his brows at you. “It’s shitty and the smell of decay is always kinda there, but sometimes, it’s nice down here.”
“Hell is supposed to suck.”
“And it does,” you say with a shrug. “But not all the time, Ads.”
“Don’t call me that.” He tosses a blanket at you- it’s thin and threads have begun to unravel at the seams, but it’s soft. “I’m turning off the lights.”
“Goodnight,” you call out, holding the blanket close to you. You can only smile when the response is a closed door.  
112 notes · View notes
grimm-writings · 2 days
Note
Hey! Can I request a falin x reader where reader is a lone researcher in the dungeon and stumbles into chimera falin and the two fall in love?
Maybe Like a 5 times the reader has met chimera falin and 1 time the two get to meet after she’s turned back type story?
beauty/beast
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…ft! falin x gn! reader
…tags! 5+1 format, reader is like slightly unhinged, fluff with moments of angst, slight suggestiveness
…wc! 2789
…notes! grimm tries not to come off as a monsterkisser for nearly 2.7k words, the fic,,,, hope you enjoy!!!! i love chimera falin so bad… 
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One
You can’t say you didn’t ask for this.
It’s a death sentence to traverse into a dungeon on your own, especially with your lack of combat skills.  If you were sane, you’d have hired a bodyguard to help take down monsters you couldn’t handle.  Fortunately, you are not, and decided instead you could very well handle monsters in a pacifistic way.
Any companion you told this to chose to stare at you like you admitted to dark magic.
So, you’ll simply prove the nay-sayers wrong!  After all, how hard can it be to tame some monsters?
Very hard, actually.  Like… incredibly.
You had to pride yourself in how you managed to sweet-talk some petty thieves for advice on monsters in the floor you’re currently on, even how to avoid orcs!  At least that much is out of the way.
As for fighting, well, sometimes a very sharp slap to the head with a book, or even the sharp tip of a pen can subdue anyone, if just to give you enough time to run.
Besides, blood makes for some extra ink if you just happened to come by a dead body!
Going purely on efficiency alone, you’re doing tremendous work!  When it comes to your study?  Not so much.
The purpose of coming all the way down here is that you have a very specific urge.  That being, to tame a beast.  Some researchers gained the will to try and do the same to elemental spirits, why not other monsters?
One of the most common rebuttals you receive is that monsters are animals, they can’t be tamed at all, and you shouldn’t even try lest you want your head bitten off.  Considering thus far you only got bitten by a walking mushroom, you think you’re doing rather well!  (You did take an hour to contemplate to yourself how a walking mushroom seemingly has teeth, though.)
That brings you now later to the fourth floor, trying to shield your notes from the water as you lament losing more ink.  Sure, you might write a little bit more than should be necessary, but you surely can’t be out already!
So, delight fills you as you peer past a doorway to see the top half of a woman face down on the floor.  Haha, you can likely drain her pretty easily for some ink!  Looks fresh enough, and some patches of her are already damp with red!
You skip over, humming as you do so, when all at once the woman jerks and looks up at you.  Her golden eyes pierce your own, making you freeze in place.  You wonder if something had gotten mixed up and a succubus ended up making its way to an upper floor, when the walls of the small tower the woman is inhabiting collapses.
A chimera screeches at you, as if telling you to leave it alone.  If you weren’t so awestruck, you would have tried to shush it, lure it towards you and petted its oddly human head.  Alas, you let the chicken-legged thing go, finding a safe haven for itself.
Day 1: I have found a beast in its purest form. I must pursue it. I must tame it.
Two
‘Obsession’ would be putting your experience lightly.
You had never wanted to gaze upon a monster as much as you wished to see the chimera again.  Unique is its proportions, the lower body of a dragon and the torso and head of an adult tallwoman.
To anyone else, its face must be more of a lure.  With the prettiest face and… great assets to boot, like a fish drawn to an angler fish's light, a blindsided adventurer comes near.
You had tried to navigate where the beast has gone, observing the damages of certain areas to lead you closer to it.
Thoughts course through your mind like speckles of a daydream as you walk and walk and walk, trying to sneak past other enemies and adventurers as you do so.  What would its feathers feel like?  Is it different from the mop of blonde hair on its head?  You didn’t get the chance to observe its eyes – are they human or monster?  What of its body heat?  What is its diet?
Ah.  Diet.
Your own body stops walking in realisation.  By all means, comparing their mouth to the rest of their body, it’s ultimately impossible for the chimera to have a stable diet in this dungeon, correct?
Perhaps… you need to make a lure of your own.
Even after days of navigating the dungeon, you still have plenty of rations from the surface remaining in your bag.  Hopefully the chimera likes the most noble meal one can fit inside a lunchbox — meats and pasta with the richest sauce.  One could say your taste in meals is unique, eliciting a morbid curiosity.  If the beast is more in tune with its human side, it will react the same.
You don’t know what tempted you to arrange a table with two chairs on either side.  It’s not like the chimera could fit, but it was only suitable for your first formal meeting with it!  Oh, how you can’t wait to observe it eating, and so close…!
If you’re lucky, it may even attempt to taste you.
You promptly shake off the thought.
What you focus on now is to draw the chimera near.  It seems to favour secluded areas, but has been seemingly chased around.  Aw, is it scared of humans?  That’s just adorable!  Or, maybe, it’s resting before setting off on a search…  Now that’d be some juicy stuff!  Who’s the chimera’s prey?  Another monster, or humans?
Oh, of course you’ll use yourself as bait.  You’re not a coward!
You know basic enough spells that you won’t be entirely drained of mana upon use, lighting up a route to catch the chimera’s attention upon spotting it.  Down you lead it, making yourself look as bright and delectable as possible, before sitting in your seat, your meal readily prepared for the chimera.
You smile up at her as she pokes at the food you prepared, and she begins to eat.
Day 3: The beast was very hungry upon encounter.  Even when she finished the meal, she insisted on having something more.  I complied, and soon I had emptied my entire share of rations.  The chimera eats food made for humans easily. This elicits curiosity – it might be proof enough that the chimera’s existence in this dungeon is unnatural.  Even now, it looks too… human.  I feel uncomfortable now referring to the beast as such – an ‘it’. Thus, I will refer to the chimera as ‘she’ from here on.  It suits her.  She truly is magnificent.   All signs point to her being an attempt at creating a ‘beast-kin’, but instead of using the soul of a monster and body of a human, it’s as if it’s a mesh of both.  A disgustingly beautiful transformation.  To compare, it is not dissimilar to the breeding of a pug.  Deliberately done to appease someone, something.  A selfish birth. Someone must be wanting to do the same as I to the chimera – tame her to their whims. …I’ll have to look further into this.
Three
You feel less in control of your studies these days.
The more you hang around the dungeon, scavenging for food and following your muse, the more insane you feel.  But, for the sake of research, you power through.
The chimera, she has been opening herself up to you.  When she gets anxious, her feathers ruffle, and you shush her with pets.  She calms down occasionally.  Once, you had encountered her, blood on her body and under her fingernails.  You cleaned her using the mana-infused water.  She had never looked so calm.
She doesn’t feel like a monster you have tamed, but a friend.
This scares you.
Sure, there’s the possibility that the chimera is an unnatural phenomenon, and isn’t even a monster.
But that also means you’re losing your resolve.
The chimera sits with you, as you scrub her red-scaled talons free of dirt and blood.  Her upper body leans on you, resting.  You can even hear little chirps slipping from her lips.
She’s so cute.
Even as her golden eyes soften, the small slits in them dilating to exhibit relaxation, she smiles at you.  You don’t flinch when her hands take your face to look at you.  She’s a bird after all – she might be trying to memorise you, how you look, so she knows not to hurt you in the future.
You were nearly about to reminisce on your further embarrassment when the chimera speaks.
Four words.  She spoke four words in the common language, leaving you staring at her.  You’re speechless.  She must know that she’s caught you off guard as she slowly tucks your hair behind your ear and moves away.
The moment is quickly ruined.  “Dragon!”  A boyish voice calls.  “There you are.  You’ve been leaving my side so frequently.  There’s no time to–”
An elf in a cloak freezes upon noticing you.  His heavy eye bags rival your own as he glares down at your sitting position.
You don’t do anything, merely looking up at your friend in confusion.  She is back to being silent again, reaching her arms out to the elf, as if about to pick him up.  He swats at her, before pointing at you.
“Kill them,” he demands her.
She hesitates.  You also find yourself unable to move.  So the chimera is under someone’s control after all.  This elf, forcing you apart from your friend.
You hardly process your friend lifting you off the floor, her fingers closing in around your throat.  Tighter and tighter.  Your eyes can barely make out her empty expression as she squeezes the life out of your lungs.
Snap.
You fall onto the floor, and the mad mage leaves with his dragon in tow.
Day ??: “My name is Falin.” The chimera told me this last time we encountered one another.  She has a name.  A beautiful name that belongs just to her.  Falin. …I would say ‘my Falin’, but she is not.  She is under the control of that elf.  I wouldn’t want her to be my Falin anyway. She shouldn’t belong to anyone. I was revived by a kindly Eastern woman, who is accompanying a group of retainers following their lord.  They are joined by another party, also recently revived. Apparently, in my revival, I had uttered her name, “Falin,” and captured the attention of the malnourished lord. He is looking for her. …I was informed she is his love. Pushing personal feelings aside, I asked to come along.  I neglected to mention Falin’s current state.  I couldn’t do that to him right now.  Maybe once he sleeps, or eats… but not now. Falin, I wish to save you.  That is my goal now. You are not a monster to be tamed.
Four
Today, you met Laios Touden.
He is Falin’s older brother, you learn.
You met a lot of people, actually.  You met Falin’s party, an elf who Falin went to school with, as well as Laios Touden.
“You’ve seen Falin?”  He asks you, brow creased.  He had leaned forward in interest.  Lord Toshiro, Kabru, and Asebi were also listening to you with intrigue.
You nod.  “Yes, but I fear the situation might be a little more than you have bargained for,” you vaguely inform.
Your words would be interrupted by Laios’ request to talk privately with Toshiro, to which you comply.  You do already have a feeling of what's being said, something Kabru seems to pick up on as he glances over at you.
“Falin… isn’t faring well, is she?”
“Not in the traditional sense,” you reply.  Kabru grimaces, clearly not appreciating your rather… erratic way of conversing.  You add before he could talk back, “she’ll come back for me.”
Kabru furrows his brow.  “Excuse me?”
His question remains unanswered until you are swept up in a heated battle.  Looks of horror cross everyone’s faces at the bloody acts committed by the chimera.
You merely smile.
“Hello beauty,” you whisper when she turns to you.  Falin steps forward, cornering you.  You welcome her with open arms – and the world becomes dark again.
Day ??: Scorned though I may be by Lord Toshiro, I know myself not to be mad, but in love. Yes, I am in love.  I know this now for certain. I know that he, too, is in love.  I do not see his wishes badly.  In fact, from a sane man’s mouth, it is perfectly understandable.  Dark magic is dangerous.  As is love.  He’s risking his own reputation for it, even if others don’t appear to see things the way he does. But when push comes to shove, I am not that sane man.  I am joining Laios Touden’s party in the retrieval of Falin. The aftermath of the battle consisted of a hearty meal.  Who knew monsters could taste so nice?  Keep this in mind for the next adventure. I had figured this all came from the result of black magic.  Marcille Donato is a much more interesting woman than I thought.  I’m sure I could learn a lot from her. Hence, we march forward.  I know you aren’t in your right mind, Falin, but trust that I am. I will risk it all for you, beauty.
Five
The ice is cold underneath your fingertips.  The woman encased inside is relaxed, as if she’s merely asleep.  To see her completely separated from the lower half of the chimera body was something uncanny to you, so used to seeing her towering over you, able to squash you like a bug.
You turn to Marcille as she approaches.  “You had the right mind, keeping her fresh like this.  Deep down, you really did want to follow through with the plan!”
The blonde elf is sheepish.  “I did end up causing a right mess in the end.  It… It was selfish of me.”
“It was love,” you reply.
“Not the love Falin needs, though,” she finishes.
You both stare up at her in silence.  If you were delusional enough, you could swear you could see Falin breathing.
“I love her,” you admit, quieter than you have ever been.  “Is that alright with you?”
Marcille turns to you, her eyes wide.  For such a gossip, she really hasn’t picked up on it?
“I…”  She hesitates.  Her hands reach her trousers, and she scrunches up the fabric in her hands.  “It’s not my choice what – or who – Falin chooses.  I don’t think I have the right to decide anything for her.”
You nod, graciously taking Marcille’s word to heart.
You feel you’ve also changed throughout your journey.  Volatile as you may be, you appreciate Falin as she is.  An untamed beauty.  Not for anyone to claim or put their ideals onto.
She’s simply Falin.
“Come on,” Marcille takes your hand.  She has the kind of look on her face where you know she accepts you readily.  “Let’s go eat, okay?  For Falin.”
You smile back.  “For Falin.”
I don’t care about the day anymore. Falin is being revived today.  Soon, I’ll have a chance to meet the real her.  The beauty behind the beast. Ha.  I haven’t called her that for a while. Maybe I’ll follow Toshiro’s way and propose immediately too?  No, Marcille may accept me, but that might result in another need for revival. I can’t wait to get to know you.
the first time
Falin opens the door with a dazed expression, not expecting the crowd waiting around the door.  Of course, this resulted in quite the hoo-ha.  People running around, celebrating the successful revival of Falin Touden.  You wait patiently for you to be welcomed once more.
The woman is sitting calmly at her bed.  Some of her features are still feathered, but you’ve always liked how they felt underneath your fingertips.
She glances up at you, examining your form.
You’re taller than she thought.
“Hi,” you say, handing over a random blade of grass you picked.
Falin takes it.  Her fingers brush against your own.  She starts twirling the natural green between her fingers.  She smiles warmly.  “Hello,” her soft, tired voice returns.  It’s so sweet that you might melt.  “My name is Falin.  It’s nice to meet you.”
You know from the way she glances up at you that she already remembers you quite well.
Feeling the happiest you’ve ever been, you fall into Falin, pulling her into the tightest of hugs.
“It’s so wonderful to meet you too, beauty.”
Today, she asked me if she could belong to me. I said yes, but only if she belonged to herself first. She accepted.
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AITA for asking my (36F she/her) girlfriend (32F she/they) to be out at work if she wants to become myanager ?
It's messy and complicated. I love my girlfriend very much and ultimately I think we are in a shitty situation with no real win and we have a different opinions on how to lose.
I am a polyamorous lesbian. I have a wife but I also sometimes have other secondary partners, and my wife does too.
I am happy to work in a place safe enough that I am out at work (about the lesbian part, not the polyamory part). My wife often comes at afterwork events and because she is a sweetheart, is loved by most of my colleagues.
I have been at this job for 4 years, that's how I met this colleague, Angel. This person looked familiar but I couldn't put my finger on it. We talked, grew a bit closer then I met them again outside of work, at a queer event of my city. This time I recognized them. Angel is trans, non binary and fem presenting, at work she is not out and present herself as a cis heterosexual man. We talked, I obviously swore to keep it a secret but knowing this part of her helped us growing even closer together. We have now been dating for 3 years.
Angel has a longtime girlfriend (childhood sweethearts even) as her primary relationship. Let's call her Valentine. Valentine is working in the same industry but not in the same company. Because it's a niche field, everyone knows everyone and we often meet at work events. I also like her very much and we are good friends. Val is terrified to be out as polyamori at work because she is afraid of what the gossip will do to her work reputation. Valentine has a more public facing role than Angel and I and I absolutely respect her desire to protect what she has.
Even if it doesn't look like it, I do like too to keep private and professional life separated… Angel and I mostly connected outside of the workplace at queer events and are also both deeply involved in the drag scene and the queer political scene of our city. We never flirted at work and have even never stole a kiss on workground. We just happened to fall in love anyway even if we recognized the situation was less than ideal.
Our company has been through a lot of changes recently. My teamleader is leaving and Angel(that previously worked in another department) has been asked if she wants the role.
She does.
I have more experience than her even if she has more seniority with the company. I have been pretty open about wanting a senior expert position rather than managerial one and that's why I have not been offered the role. I am really happy for her and think she will be a great manager and recognize it's a great opportunity.
But I don't want her to be My manager. It's a really dangerous position to have over a romantic partner and she recognizes that. Moreover even if we managed to keep our relationship a secret until now, we know it's a precarious position. If our secret would be revealed while she IS my manager it could be terrible for us. She could be accused of taking advantage of me, or me to want to sleep my way through the top. Keep also in mind that she is male presenting at work and I am publicly a lesbian so yeah… We are also in very committed relationship which is another mess… It would not look good for us should we be forcibly out…
That's why I want to go to HR while her candidacy is being studied and explains the whole thing or at least some of them. I don't want to leave my team because my mentor is there and not a lot of people are doing what we do but maybe we could sort something out together? I would agree for Angel to be the team leader if I have a separate manager… Or maybe Angel could be the leader of another team ? Or I could become a more independent team member ? Angel and I are publicly work best friends so it would made sense anyway for me to have a different manager to keep things more fair.
Angel doesn't want to, and Valentine is absolutely against it. Angel thinks it will ruin her chance at the position. Maybe want to sort things out After she has been offered the job, maybe try to work out how we would work at manager/managee for some time before calling HR. I would not be against waiting for a real offer but listening her talk, I am afraid she intends to push things forever. Angel is afraid HR will reveal our secret to everyone. I recognize our HR team is not the best and even gossipy but it's about really private and protected things (in my country) : our sexual orientation and sexual identities. We also have a very good Union (with queer delegates) and even if I am unsure about HR, I am sure the union will remember them the law protecting us here and will ultimately behave appropriately. But I recognized it's a risk.
I want to break things of with Angel if she doesn't want to go to HR. My wife says it's mean and manipulative to use this kind of ultimatum. The way I see it I am just protecting myself. Angel is putting her job before our relationship and I am OK with that, she is also priorizing Valentine's needs (as she should) but in this case, I should be allowed to do the same and protect myself and my job. From my point of view, Angel could : refuse the position, go to HR, or accept the breakup.
AITA for this ultimatum ? Valentine thinks I am. Angel is confused. My wife disapproves but loves me to much to call me an asshole.
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seoltzuki · 2 days
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Persona
jihyo x gn reader
fluff, very unserious, suggestive (kinda), not proofread
wannabe player jihyo
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You know it’s not the smartest idea, but it feels like it’s the only option to shake things up.
Nayeon’s been urging you all evening, saying, "Just get on a dating app, y/n. It’s easier to find someone who wants to hook up on there. And better yet, with no strings attached since you’re so allergic to falling in love and settling down."
You huffed and rolled your eyes. No need for her to be so… brutally honest. And so caved in. You downloaded the app and started scrolling through it. You swiped on pretty faces, ignoring those seeking long-term relationships, until one profile grabbed your attention.
Despite its douchy and fuckboy-ish vibe, you couldn’t help but be drawn to this person’s profile.
Jihyo.
Her photos showcased her with well-defined abs glistening under gym lights, another captured her in full hockey gear, while another showed her casually sporting a backward cap, adding a touch of laid-back douchiness.
Let’s not talk about her bio, which ew by the way… You cringed as you read it,
6’1 when I stand on my money.
ps: my couch pulls out, but I don’t when I’m strapped up👅💦
You gag at this but still swipe right. It’s clear she’s looking for the same casual fun as you are. And as expected, you both match, confirming your mutual interest in a no-strings-attached connection.
You begin texting Jihyo, and the conversations quickly become flirty, bordering on explicit. This back-and-forth continues for a week until Jihyo takes the initiative to set up a date to meet in person.
She suggests grabbing a quick bite at a fast food joint near her place. You find the idea crass and somewhat unappealing; after all, why bother with a lame meal when you could just head straight to her place for some action?
Nonetheless, you agree. Jihyo manages to sway you with another teasing message: “You’ll need energy if you wanna keep up with me, angel ;)”
The day arrives, and despite knowing it’s just a one-time thing, you find yourself oddly excited. You debate whether it’s worth dressing up for the occasion, knowing you’ll likely never see her again after tonight, but you make the effort anyway.
As you commute to the shitty fast food joint, a text from Jihyo pops up: “hey! I’m already here. I’m gonna be waiting for you at the bus stop, no rush :)”
You frown at first, but then a small smile creeps onto your face. It’s strange to receive such a normal and sweet text from her.
You feel a flutter in your stomach, but you quickly dismiss it. This is just a one-time thing, you remind yourself, as you gather your things to to hop off the bus.
Stepping onto the sidewalk, you glance around, expecting to spot Jihyo. However, she’s nowhere in sight until you hear your name being called. You look past the man who was hiding Jihyo, and as she steps forward, you realize she’s even shorter than you had imagined.
"I hope the ride here wasn’t too bad. Ready to eat?" She smiles wide, and you can't help but notice how much cuter she is in person than you had imagined.
You nod, following her into the restaurant. She walks with a pep in her step, and you can't help but admire how cute she looks in her baggy jeans, oversized shirt, and that damn backward hat. It's nothing like the pictures she had on her profile.
A cutie.
She orders and pays for both of you, and you can't help but slip out, "You must be really rich then."
She frowns, her lower lip popping out in a pout. "I mean-" she starts to explain, but you cut her off, "your bio. 6'1 when I stand on my money, remember?" You tease, then casually munch on your fries.
Her eyebrows arch in surprise, and a blush tinges her cheeks. "Gosh, I forgot about that. I’m sorry, it’s-"
"You’re cute."
Her blush deepens, and she adjusts her hat, offering you a shy smile.
As the conversation flows, you find yourself enjoying Jihyo’s company more than you expected. Her easygoing nature and genuine laughter put you at ease, and you start to forget about the initial awkwardness of the situation.
You notice her little quirks—the way she looks incredibly angry when she takes a delicious bite of her hamburger, that big smile that makes her eyes almost disappear, the way she gives you her full attention when you speak… It’s becoming increasingly difficult to ignore the flutter in your stomach.
She then offers you to come over for some dessert, and you can't say no. After all, this is what you originally came for anyway.
The walk to her place is short, and when you arrive, you brace yourself for the typical "fuckboy" house—a mess, dishes piled in the sink, and a less-than-ideal bathroom. However, when she welcomes you inside, you're taken aback. The place is pristine and beautifully decorated. You start to wonder if her dating profile was all just a facade.
You prepare yourself for the "dessert" as she instruct you to get comfortable. Taking a seat on the couch, you anticipate what's to come, but to your surprise, she returns with a tray to the coffee table in the center of the living room. The tray has an array of treats—brownies, cookies, and mochi—and hold up, are they homemade too!?
"I’ve made them for you! For tonight! Have a taste!" She says with pride, her smile wide and chest puffed out.
You take a cookie and bite into it, moaning at the delicious taste. It's so good that you kind of want to murder her for being such a good baker, but also for messing up your flow.
You guys should’ve been in bed by now.
She flops beside you, still smiling. “It’s so good,” you remark, savouring the last bite of the cookie.
“Yeah? I’m glad you like it, wasn’t sure what you were gonna be into,” she says, her eyes fixed on you.
As you meet her gaze, you sink further into the cozy couch. She removes her hat, allowing her curls to cascade, and you're taken aback by her beauty.
She runs her fingers through her hair before settling in, her arm draped over the back of the couch, hand supporting her chin. She continues to watch you, and you feel your cheeks flush under her gaze.
"I don’t think I’ve had the chance to tell you how beautiful you are, y/n," Jihyo says softly, her eyes scanning your face.
She bites the inside of her cheek and briefly lets her eyes drift down to take you all in. You smile shyly, noticing the subtle shift in her demeanor. Perhaps the "fuckboy" from her profile is finally making an appearance now.
Your hands sink into her sofa, and you hum, "This isn’t a pull out couch."
Jihyo’s eyes linger on yours, a teasing glint dancing in them.
"Never owned a pull out couch," she responds, her tone low and suggestive, "but I do have the strap."
You roll your eyes, but the shiver that runs down your spine betrays your true feelings. She smiles softly again, her gaze locked with yours as you edge closer to her.
"You're too crude, Jihyo. It’s not charming," you tease, allowing your fingers to trace a pattern along her arm, the tension between you growing.
"I may be crude, but hey, having a pretty person right beside me makes up for it, don't you think?" she whispers, edging closer. Her breath grazes your lips, igniting a surge of excitement within you.
And then, with a delicate touch, her lips meet yours in a tender, lingering kiss. The sensation is electric, your body melting into the moment as you get lost in the softness of her lips against yours.
A shared breath and she gives another kiss, deeper than the last. Her lips press against yours with a newfound urgency. You feel the softness of her touch as her hands slide to the back of your neck, gently pulling you closer.
A soft moan escapes your lips in response to the sensation, and she pulls back, breathless, her eyes locking with yours as the intensity of the moment hangs in the air.
“Y/n,” she starts, her voice gentle as she takes a deep breath to steady herself, “I know we’re both into the one-night stand thing, but I think I like you more than I should. And I know you should’ve been on your third orgasm by now, but for some reason, I can’t bring myself to sleep with you unless we go on, at least, two proper dates.”
You stare at her, surprised by her honesty. The air between you is charged with tension as you process her words. Despite the initial intentions of this encounter, you can’t deny the flutter of excitement in your chest at the thought of spending more time with her.
Taking a moment to collect your thoughts, you reach out and gently cup her cheek, brushing your thumb against her skin. “Jihyo,” you say softly, “I feel the same way. I’d like that.”
A smile spreads across her face, relief evident in her eyes. “Really?” she asks, her voice barely above a whisper.
“Really,” you confirm, leaning in to place a tender kiss on her lips. It’s a promise of what’s to come—a beginning rather than an end.
A relieved sigh escapes her lips as she leans back against the couch, holding your hand tightly.
“Let’s watch TV and finish the sweets?” she proposes, her voice tinged with shyness.
You smile warmly at her, squeezing her hand reassuringly. “Sounds perfect,” you say, feeling a rush of affection for her. “But I need the backstory behind that insane dating profile of yours.”
Jihyo chuckles, a hint of embarrassment coloring her cheeks. “Oh, that,” she says, running a hand through her hair. “Well, you see, I had a phase where I was tired of all the boring conversations on dating apps. So, I decided to spice things up a bit and I may have gone a little overboard with the whole ‘fuckboy’ persona.”
You giggle, intrigued by her. “It definitely caught my attention,” you admit.
She smiles sheepishly. “Yeah, well, I may have exaggerated a bit,” she confesses. “But hey, it worked, didn’t it?”
“Definitely,” you agree, squeezing her hand affectionately. “But I’m glad to see the real you now.”
With a warm smile, Jihyo leans in closer, her eyes sparkling with sincerity. “Me too,” she whispers, before pressing a soft kiss to your cheek.
"However, I do give the best strap. No one can beat me to that and I mean it when I say I don’t pull out and-"
"Ew, you’re crude Jihyo!" you exclaim, playfully scolding her with a mock grimace.
Jihyo lets out a hearty laugh, her eyes crinkling with amusement. "Hey, just keeping it real, sweetheart."
You may not be allergic to falling in love after all.
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Dear Hearts and Gentle People 12
Pure Indulgence 3
Summary: You and Cooper have stayed a couple of weeks in Goodneighbor, and as much as John wants the two of you to stay, he knows that he could never ask either of you to. It's a shame the mayor has always had a problem with falling hard and fast.
Pairings: The Ghoul | Cooper Howard x Female Reader / John Hancock x Female Reader
Warnings: Smut and drug use. It's more fluffy than anything, I think. John is sad 😔
Masterlist
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You wake to the sound of hushed, husky voices. Your head throbs from the alcohol the night before, but it's manageable enough for you to crack your eyes open. The first thing you see is a scared chest, and you peek up to see that you're cuddled against John. The mayor has you tucked close, a cigarette between two fingers on his free hand, and black eyes looking at the other ghoul that sits on the edge of the bed.
"Commonwealth is a dangerous place. We've got shit you won't ever believe," John rasps over you, and you hear the familiar timber of Cooper’s voice respond seconds later.
"Ain't nothin' we can't handle. Besides. It's not like we'll be stayin' long."
You hear the change in John's heartbeat. It speeds up, and the grip he has around your shoulders tightens for a split second before relaxing again. You smell the acidic smoke that Hancock blows out his ruined nose and hear the odd tilt of his voice when he speaks up.
"Yeah, I know, Coop," John exhales heavily with another plum of smoke, "Still plan on leaving today?"
You watch Cooper shrug his shoulders and take in the expance of his scared back. There are bullet and knife woulds everywhere. You've mapped out most of them with your hands and tongue and lips. So has John.
You don't like the thought of leaving the ghoul behind, but exploration calls your name, and you know that it'd be unfair to drag the mayor away from his home. You didn't think it was possible for you to care for another like you did Cooper, but here you were.
"If she wants to. I'm just the muscle. She's the girl with the plans," Cooper rumbles, and the bed dips when he shifts to face John on the bed. He holds a canister of jet and exchanges the chem for the cigarette that the other ghoul holds. He casts his eyes down and smirks when he notices that you're awake.
"Speak of the devil," He quips and reaches out to pat your sheet covered ass, "How long've you been up?"
John shifts below you, and you gift the mayor a small smile. You shrug in answer and turn to place a chaste kiss against Hancock's chest.
"Long enough," you murmur, and John tenses under you. It's obvious that you've been listening in on their conversation. You don't like making the ghoul feel bad, but lingering any longer, and it would be all the worse.
"How'd you sleep, Sunshine?" Hancock asks, and his free hand smooths over your back to gently stroke your hair, pulling it away and out of your face. It's a forced change in subject, but you don't mind.
"Considering I'm the meat in a ghoul sandwich - pretty good," you tease with a snicker. Hancock wheezes a laugh, and Cooper rolls his eyes at you, though you still catch a fond look sent your way.
John watches the smoothskin and the other ghoul. He doesn't want them to leave. He likes having your easy amusement around and Cooper’s dry, western humor. The two of you were like taking one of his favorite grape mentats every time you rolled into Goodneighbor, and it hurt to know that you planned on leaving the Commonwealth.
The two of you belonged in his town, and Hancock could only hope that neither of you would forget about him. It sounded sad and pathetic even to his own ears, but John had always had a problem with loving a little too easily.
He licks his dry lips and forces a smile, "Let's talk serious for a second, yeah?" Usually, John wasn't down for things like this, but you? You made him feel different. He suspected it was the same thing about you that made Cooper stay around.
"You'll be careful out there. The Institute isn't just some fairy tale like you hear people whisper about in the streets. Not to mention those tin cans that still patrol around here-."
The mayor of Goodneighbor shuts up with a disgruntled huff and glares at Cooper, who had grabbed his leg and dragged him down to lay on the bed. The other ghoul glares right back, lips mulled into a mean smirk. You, having been dislodged in the sudden motion, find a comfortable seat on John's lap and grin down at him.
"Told you earlier not to be thinkin' bout that kinda stuff, John, " Cooper groused from where he lounged behind you.
"Yeah, just cause we're leaving doesn't mean we're gonna be gone forever," you say and reach out, placing your palms on his sunken cheeks and smiling down at him, "You're a part of us now, even if we're not here."
John can't help but smile back and turn his face to press a kiss to your wrist. You were right, of course, but the ghoul would still miss the two of you.
"Then how about you give me something to remember you by, Sunshine?" Hancock says, and his hands come up to land on your hips, his own rocking up and against your exposed sex. His cock drags through your folds, and the ghoul groans at the heat you put off. His fingers dig into your sides hard enough that dark marks would bloom by the evening.
Cooper watches from behind you, a satisfied smirk crossing his lips when he sees John's tip catch your opening and you slide home with a hiss. Despite his initial feelings, it's always a pleasure to watch you and the other ghoul fuck. John liked things slow and steady, something that the bounty hunter didn't have the patience for. It wasn't hard to see that the mayor had fallen quickly. Cooper couldn't blame him.
He makes himself comfortable, eyes latched to where John pistons in and out of his smoothskin, your cunt clenching around the other man's length as you dig your nails into the flesh of Hancock's shoulders. The two of you are loud and shameless, and Cooper knows that if he misses anything about the Commonwealth, it would be this.
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gojoath · 16 hours
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ಣ ˖ ࣪࿐ྂ THE PART THAT LINGERS, OKKOTSU YŪTA
yuta finds it hard to live his life without you, it’s even harder for him to get off when you’re not there. you’ve unintentionally broken him that way. but it’s okay, he still has his ways of ending up wrapped in you.
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summary. fem reader. yandere yūta. ex boyfriend yūta. obsession. manipulation. stalking. yandere themes. aged up characters. he breaks into your apartment. panty sniffing / stealing. masturbation. brief bed humping. he’s such a freak. wc, 2.8k.
note. another repost for the series :)
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it’s sick but oh so pretty the way yuuta remembers you, pouty lips and warm skin— hands intertwined with his and the soft giggles that always used to sound when he’d nuzzle into the crook of your neck.
but he thinks it’s worse now, the way he’s expected to cum without you as he lies back on his bed, flushed and panting, his hand rough and nowhere near as silky as yours was when it would stroke languidly at his cock. you knew just where to squeeze, where to slow and graze your fingertips along the sensitive veins on his shaft until he was twitching. he knew that too, but it was different— better when it was you.
another useless, rough fist of his cock and yuuta groans, lower tip tugged between his teeth and his eyes squeezed closed but it’s not enough. his mind is full of you, the squeeze of your walls— the pretty face you’d pull that would always accompany a dreamy, breathless drawl of his name and he wants nothing more than to hear it now.
he wants to feel you, to be surrounded by your scent and your hands, dragging red marks across the milky skin of his shoulders— to mark him up and brand him as yours. you’re probably having just as much trouble as he is though, you always told him how good he was so that has to be the case…. right?
it’s cruel in a way, yuuta thinks— the way that you’d shoved him out of your apartment last he’d seen you. he knew it was best to give you space, you always got a little emotional when you were stressed out, you only took it out on him because he was there.
you didn’t mean anything by it. his love is heavy afterall.
he knows that though, because he knows you better than anyone. knows that next time he sees you you’ll be looking up at him with those same eyes, pooling with adoration as you jump into his arms and because he loves you, he’ll forgive you.
yuuta’s brows drop with his next broken whine as he tugs at his cock again— imagining, wishing he was sinking into you instead, maybe you’re kneeling at his feet with your tongue hanging between your lips, so eager to taste him and he thinks it’s filthy. but oh so pretty.
his hand doesn’t offer him the same squeeze as your walls would, the same warmth or the same sticky, lewd withdrawal no matter how much spit he uses on his palm. he wants to feel you again, hear you— creaming and squeezing around his cock as you coax and lure the cum out of him. another rough stroke and he thinks his orgasm seems further now than it’s ever been, so frustratingly so because this isn’t the first time he’s tried.
yuuta let’s his hand fall to the side of his body after a few more unmotivated strokes of his fist, the length of his cock still as hard as it was this morning as he gives it a sleepy, irritated look— he wonders how long you’ll torture him like this.
he pushes himself up to sit a few moments later, smoothing his palm through the mused mop of dark hair that frames his features as he shoves it back. another deep breath and he lets his hand graze down his face before he’s moving to grab his clothes, leaving his apartment with a slammed door a few moments later.
you’ve broken him, not that it’s that much of a problem— it’s just temporary. you promised to be by his side foreverafterall.
he’d call you, but yuuta’s not had a chance to take your new number from inumaki’s phone since you changed it again. what’s this, the fourth time? he doesn’t know who it is that’s been bothering you, who keeps making you have to change your number, but when he finds out he’ll make sure to keep you safe. he wouldn’t want anyone to get in the way of you both afterall.
but the walls of your apartment still feel familiar as yuuta takes his first step into your bedroom. you always had a nasty habit of leaving the window propped open slightly, you’d always say it was to air out the room and make it a little fresher. he’s grateful for it though, especially when it means he doesn’t have to bother you when you’re out to get your keys, the window was easily within his reach given his.. unusual abilities.
his sneakers squeak slightly, before he slides them off and places them politely to the side as he jumps from your vanity onto the floor beneath him, taking his first real inhale of his surroundings as his lidded, dark gaze scans along your belongings.
you’ve done a little remodelling since he’s last been over, moved around a few of your things— gotten a new lamp, he’ll make sure to compliment then when he comes over next. you’ll be sure to smile and thank him with a sweet kiss smeared against his lips if he does.
you must’ve left in a rush, yuuta thinks as he notices the way your pyjamas are thrown haphazardly onto the crumbled sheets of your bed and the sight seems to draw him closer. the floorboards creek under his weight, like they’re willing him to leave but this was his home as much as it was yours, right? he’d fucked you here so often he’s sure the walls remember his name, and he’ll be back soon. 
the forgotten fabric feels like silk underneath his touch as he picks it up, rolling it against his skin as his lips part to breathe and he can imagine how pretty you’d look in the material, and how pretty you’d look without it. his cock twitches at that, and he makes quick work of pressing his free palm against his slacks, whimpering at the ache between his legs as it begs him to ease it.
it’s almost instinctive the way yuuta brings the fabric up to his face after a few more shallows breathes, nuzzling into your pyjamas as he takes a deep inhale and the way your scent surrounds him makes him want to suffocate in it. he stays like that for a few more lust-fuelled moments, cheek pressing into the material as his other hand strokes his cock through his clothes, your apartment silent apart from your ex-boyfriends unsteady moans.
“it hurts, baby.” he mutters a few moments later as he shuffles where he stands, fingers wrapping around the imprint of the length of him before he squeezes, whining as his hips roll against his palm to chase the friction. another deep breath, accompanied by another nuzzle into the fabric between his fingers and he’s roused from his hormone-drunken thoughts when something falls onto the ground at his feet.
yuuta’s eyes are half lidded and drowsy as he pulls away to look down at the floor, the lust emphasised in his otherwise threateningly, empty stare. although he inhales sharp when he notices the pretty black lace that lies haphazardly at his feet. he bends over, albeit with a little effort considering how hard he is but even the friction of his slacks on his cock feels so fucking good right now.
but it’s almost animalistic when he stands back up, his chest rising and falling quickly with how much he’s yearned for this, for you. his fingers press gently into the dainty fabric he’s holding now— pretty black panties, they must’ve been the ones you were wearing before you left. he can only imagine how good they look on you, he’ll take great pleasure in ripping them off next time.
yuuta doesn’t have to consider his idea long before he’s driven by the heavy twitch of his cock and the ache in his gut, quickly bringing the black fabric up to his face before he’s taking another inhale and the scent of you almost makes his legs buckle from where he stands. the effect you have on him is incapacitating and he knows it’s filthy, maybe a little insane but he’s your boyfriend.. so you wouldn’t mind him doing this anyway.
so he keeps it there as he turns to lie back at the foot of your bed, nose nuzzled into the fabric of your dirty panties— your musk flooding his senses as his other hand strokes himself through his slacks. he’s harder now than he’s everbeen without you, every needy squeeze of his fingers along his shaft makes him throb, thickening against the fabric and his hands tremble as he pulls at the waistband.
yuuta pushes himself up more until his head is on your pillows and he makes short work of his clothes, letting them pool around his ankles as he holds the lace against his features.
his eyes roll back instantaneously as he grabs the base of his cock, he’s surrounded by your scent now— head buried into the pillows that still smell of you as it encases him. he swipes his thumb along the beads of precum along the tip, smearing them along the sensitive shaft followed by a few lazy, languid pumps as his dark bangs fall messy over his flushed cheeks.
another deep inhale and he follows it with a slow stroke of his cock before he’s whining out your name, arching against the comforter that you tuck yourself into every night. his skin feels sticky, his lips parting as he drags your underwear down his face and it’s greedy the way his tongue rolls out to lap at the sticky, stained fabric that’s been tucked between your folds.
his eyes gloss over before they flutter closed and his situation now makes it impossible for his mind not to immediately go to you — how pretty you looked the last he seen you, albeit it from a distance as you done your grocery shopping. how warm your skin feels against his, making his hips buck as the head of his cock glistens and disappears into his fist.
the taste of you is like a drug to yuuta, so intoxicatingly addictive that it only drives him for more until he’s drooling across the fabric, dampening it against his lips as he buries wrecked whines of your name there too. there’s something pleasurably unhinged about the way he’s jerking himself off in your bed, twisting his wrist in languid strokes while the other shakily shoves your panties along his tongue.
“baby—“ his eyelids close as he sucks the lace between his teeth, whimpering as he imagines his face between your thighs— tongue flattening against your clit to suckle and slurp up whatever you give him as your fingers pull at his hair. he wants you riding his face, tongue buried in your walls to feel you squeeze as you pump your hips desperately, clit bumping against his nose until he’s swallowing lewdly at a mixture of his spit and your cream.
yuuta’s eyes flutter open as he looks down between his thighs, watching the way his legs twitch and jerk at the pleasure that races through him. he takes another long inhale before he lets the now soaked fabric leave his mouth to crawl down his abdomen instead, wrapping it around the shaft of his cock as he suck’s his lower lip between his teeth.
his heels muse the comforter beneath him as he props them up to ease his thrusts into the tight ring of his fist, the scratchy fabric of the lace tangles along his fingers and squeezes deliciously along the sensitive underside of his cock. his hips hump desperately and almost involuntarilyas he teases himself, slowing his pace into long, heavy strokes as he turns to bury his face into your plush pillow to inhale.
he’s pretty sure he can still smell your shampoo, your perfume, your body lotion— all of you, lingering in the seams of the sheets beneath him and he feels lightheaded as his lips part to pant. yuuta sinks deeper into your mattress, giving his cock another long pull of his palm as his hips thrust up to follow it. the fabric of your panties in his fist only makes it feel better, he wishes you were wearing them now— letting him pump his hips into the plush space between your thighs so he can feel the way you soak them through.
“g’nna cum, fuck—please,” his plea is choked off and needy, almost drowned out by the rhythmic, wet sounds that echo through your apartment as he jerks himself off.
yuuta’s technique grows messier with each involuntary buck of his hips while his free hand reaches up to twist in his hair, hushed groans falling from his mouth when he tugs at the roots just like you do as his tongue flicks out to drag along his lips. he’s so close.
his pace is faster now that he’s surrounded by you, his face buried in your pillows to inhale— panties wrapped around his cock as he squeezes and it’s been so long since he’s felt this good. he feels himself twitch and thicken against his palm, rolling his hips into his fist again as he whines your name, begging for the relief that you were always so sweet to give him.
but still, the tightening of yuuta’s fist and the graze of your panties can’t imitate the needy push and pull of your perfect cunt, even from memory— your body was made for him. it was his, all of it— all of you. you were his, hishishis—
“fu-uck, nghhh—baby,” his pace stutters as his orgasm hits him suddenly, back arching into your sheets as he presses his flushed features into your pillows to drool out your name. his cum is hot and thick, soaking the black lace with the back and forth stutter of his hips as it pours down his hand, pooling along the base of his cock before he finally lets his arm fall limp at his side.
yuuta gives himself a few moments to catch his breath before he lets himself roll onto his stomach to shove more of his face into your scent, like he doesn’t want to say goodbye yet. his fists curl in your sheets as he buries his face into the remnants of you that’s left, feeling the sting of overstimulation in his bones as his cock and cum smears along your bedsheets.
like he’s a sorrowful, kicked puppy still marking his territory. why won’t you just let him give you his love?
it’s messy and lewd, the slow rock of his hips into your mattress as he mumbles out slurred miss you’s betweenpleas— grinding himself into your bed and humping like he’s in heat as he inhales your scent. but he only gives himself a few stuttered rolls of his hips before he begrudgingly pushes himself to stand, he still wanted to save some of himself for when he next sees you afterall.
yuuta hisses as he pushes his cock back into his slacks and stands, stretching his limbs back over his head as he gives your room one more last, haunting look. he walks over to your vanity before he goes to step back up, but he notices the facedown framed photograph that lies in a box to the side of it beneath him and recognises it instantly.
it was a particularly pretty picture of you both, mostly you but it was one of the first you’d took together— courtesy of maki. he finds himself tracing your features through the pane of glass before he smiles to himself, taking it upon himself to do you a favour and display it back on your vanity.
you probably put it there while you were reorganising your room, not wanting to smash it accidentally and forgot to put it back up where it belonged.
yuuta’s roused from his own little dreamy frame of mind when he hears your voice from outside of your apartment door. he’s forgot how much he’s missed the sound, he can hear you talking on the phone— recognising maki’s name immediately followed by an exasperated sigh and it makes him breathe out a laugh before he’s smiling again, soft and kind.
he hears the way you’re flicking through your keys before pressing one into the lock and he really wants to stay— he even considers it as he rests in the space of your bedroom window. he thinks you’d be happy to see him now that you’ve calmed down, his weight leaning precariously onto the delicate wood.
but yuuta sighs before he lets himself jump gracefully onto the concrete at the foot of your apartment despite the way his heart longs to feel you beneath him again. it makes something ache in the space in his chest.
but it’s okay though, he’ll see you later tonight,
you still look as pretty as he remembers when you’re asleep.
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© gojoath. please do not copy any of my layouts or writing and translate or repost onto any other sites.
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I'm Happy Just to Have You
I'm Bright Baby Blue, Falling Into You
Chelsea!Roy Kent x Coach's Daughter!Reader
2.6k words
Warnings: Language, lying/sneaking around, no Ted Lasso characters except for Roy, fluff & flirting, protective dad, some self-deprecating talk
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Just like every summer was spent running around Chelsea’s pre-season training, every night before the first match of the season was spent having dinner with the team. Your mother loved hosting the team in your backyard, with big bowls of pasta and salad on the tables put together to make one long table, and you always loved getting to sit among them. As a child, you’d draw pictures that you handed out to bemused players; as a teenager, you’d steal sips of beer and bat your eyes at the rookie athletes. Now, as an adult, you’d sit far too close to Roy Kent and monopolize his attention all night with jokes and sly attempts at flirting.
This year would be more of the same. After all, who were you to break tradition?
Of course, this year your dad raised an eyebrow at the little summer dress you wore, which you did your best to ignore as you helped your mother set the table, having skipped training to help her prepare the outrageously big meal. As the players started to arrive and help themselves to drinks, you chatted happily with them, pushing yourself to be even more friendly than usual, in hopes of throwing your dad off by making it seem like you were being extra affable with everyone, not just Roy Kent.
When the sound of two quick rings wafted outside from the front door, you had to stop yourself from sprinting inside. “I’ve got it!” you hollered to your mum before she could move towards the house. Surely, anybody could be at the door, right? It wasn’t as if Roy Kent had arranged some sort of doorbell 'signal' to ensure a few moments alone with you, right?
“Hey,” he hummed, leaning in the doorway, cool as ever. He glanced over his shoulder before pulling you in for a brief, heated kiss. You probably could’ve stayed there for hours, in his arms, his lips pressed to yours, if you weren’t in the doorway. His cool expression was replaced with a dopey grin when he let you go. “Brought you something.”
Curiosity crossed your face. “A gift? For me?” you teased.
With an eyeroll, he handed you a book. “Since we keep telling your dad we’re exchanging books,” he explained, “we should make sure we’re, y’know, exchanging books.”
You smiled and held the book close to your chest. “Clever, Kent.” After making sure you were still alone, you leaned close. “Kinda missed you today,” you admitted in a whisper.
“Missed you too, princess.” A quick kiss found your forehead. “Let’s go out tonight. After dinner. Grab a drink or something.”
Fuck, that sounded great. “I think my dad’ll think something’s up if I take the car so late,” you grumbled, sticking out your lower lip.
Roy chuckled softly at your bratty pout, his eyes sparkling with amusement. “Fair enough.” He shrugged. “Sneak out, then.” When he saw your sour expression, he narrowed his eyes at you tauntingly. “Come on, Miss ‘I used to used to climb this tree all the time’. Put your money where your pretty mouth is.”
“Fine,” you huffed. “Maybe I will.” You smirked at him. “But you’re going to be pretty damn embarrassed seeing me climb that thing with ease after you could barely clamber up it.”
He let out a small, surprised laugh and looked ready to say something, some sassy retort no doubt, when his eyes flickered somewhere behind you. “Coach,” he greeted, straightening up.
“Kent.” Your dad’s gaze bounced between the two of you. “We’re all outside if you care to join us.” Despite his polite words, you knew this wasn’t a suggestion for the midfielder; it was a warning.
“Right, right.” Roy cleared his throat and turned back to you. “Like I said, no rush getting it back to me.” He gestured to the book in your hands. “But let me know what you think. I liked it.” With a curt nod to your dad, he briskly walked through the house, making his way to the backyard.
Once the sound of the closing backdoor reached you, your dad turned his attention to you, eyebrows raised. “Another book club meeting?”
You nodded quickly. “Yeah, he told me about this one the other day, said I might like it.”
Your dad gently took the book from your hands, scanning the cover carefully. His brows furrowed. “Didn’t you already read this?”
Lots of girls would kill to have such an attentive dad. Normally, it made you feel pretty damn loved. Today, however, it was a freaking curse. “I don’t think so,” you said. Lied, actually. “If I did, I guess it wasn’t memorable.”
“Hmmph.” He smoothed down your hair, the way he used to when you were a little girl. “Come on, let’s go outside.”
Once you stepped into your backyard, your dad was distracted by a couple of the guys who called him over to them. You busied yourself with setting things on the table, willing yourself to not to look at Roy, no matter how badly you wanted to lose yourself in those brown eyes and little smirks, because that would only tempt you to grab him and-
“Need some help, gorgeous?”
It was like your entire body melted as you sensed him behind you, his hand ghosting over your back for a fraction of a second. You wanted nothing more than to grab him and drag him up to your bedroom. Hell, that cologne he was wearing tempted you to turn and kiss him right then and there. Fucking Roy, he was going to get you in so much trouble. And dammit, he was so worth it.
After steeling yourself, you turned to glance up at him, offering what you hoped was just a friendly smile. “Sure, Kent.” You handed him a handful of forks, shivering when his fingertips slyly brushed against yours.
Roy offered you a small wink and turned to his task. Your eyes kept meeting over the table, eyes full of affection and teasing and about a million other things. Eyes that, if anyone noticed, would easily give away the heat between the two of you. You did your best to remind yourself over and over that your parents were here, that your dad’s hawklike gaze was definitely going to be working overtime. But still, you couldn’t resist taking the spot next to Roy as everyone settled in for dinner.
Normally, you set a respectable distance between yourself and the dreamy midfielder. Close enough that you could flirt, far enough that you didn’t make a complete fool of yourself. Tonight, however, you couldn’t resist scooching your chair a smidge closer, just close enough to be able to knock your knee against his and leave it there. You could see his ears tint red at the contact as his eyes zeroed in on the bowl of pasta in front of him, trying- and not quite succeeding- to hide his smile.
Deciding that Roy needed something of a break from you, you turned to your right to chat with Jules, a striker you liked very much. He was about Roy’s age, incredibly friendly and affable, and was the only young player your dad didn’t seem to mind you chatting with; probably because he thought of Jules as “safe” compared to the other players. Jules had married his childhood sweetheart, a lovely girl named Katie, who worked at a publisher and you considered a friend. She sometimes sat near you at matches, or even drove with you to away games a few times. They were an adorable couple, always smiling at each other and whispering what you assumed were sweet nothings in each other’s ears. Hopefully, chatting with the very taken striker would placate your dad into ignoring you for the rest of the night, so you could flirt with his star midfielder in peace.
Sure enough, at the other end of the table your dad engaged in spirited conversation with the other coaches, your mother was cooing over the baby photos an older goalkeeper was showing off, and your brother seemed very content listening to some of the guys recount a recent wild night out that had definitely made its way into the paper.
As you laughed at some story Jules shared about Katie’s mother’s recent visit, you felt fingers gently brush against your thigh; the familiar touch felt warm and affectionate. Out of the corner of your eye, you allowed yourself to glance at Roy, who was fighting a smile while debating a teammate about some recent action movie they apparently felt quite strongly about. He looked good like this; relaxed. Roy Kent almost never looked relaxed. For a brief moment, you allowed yourself to imagine if this was what he’d be like at one of those family dinners, smiling and rolling his eyes in between bites. When he wanted to be, he could be so charming. You wondered if he’d ever feel strongly enough about you to be charming with your mum and dad. And if they’d love you enough to give him a real chance.
“Alright there?”
The sound of Jules speaking had you snapping out of your daydream. “Hmm? Yeah, all good.” You offered him your most casual smile.
His gaze flickered between you and Roy for a moment. “How’s school?” he asked simply as he picked up his drink. “Any fellas hanging around? You know they’ve got to go through us first,” he teased.
You rolled your eyes, pretending your face wasn’t on fire. “No fellas,” you insisted, doing your best ignore Roy’s fingers again flittering across your thigh.
“Hmm.” Jules narrowed his eyes. “Interesting.”
Late into the night, after everyone’d gone home, you retreated to your room with a wave to your parents. Once you heard their bedroom door shut with finality, you slipped on a sweatshirt and called Roy.
“You ready?” was his simple answer when he picked up.
“Yeah.”
In a flash, Roy appeared below your window, smirking up at you expectantly. Once you made sure your door was locked and turned off your lights, you opened the window, unable to hide the joy on your face as you took in the sight of Roy and his black leather jacket in the moonlight.
“Careful,” he hissed up, loud enough for only you to hear.
You simply rolled your eyes and shimmied out of the window. It was old hat, climbing down that big tree. Your hands and feet remembered exactly where to go, as if you were still sixteen and wild. When you glanced down, you saw Roy, arms open, as if he were ready to catch you at any moment, eyes wide and almost… worried. Fuck, it melted your heart.
When your feet firmly hit the ground, Roy raised his eyebrows at you, admiration all over his face. “Fuck,” he whispered. He took your hand. “Are you part squirrel or some shit, princess?”
A giggle slipped past your lips as you kissed his cheek. “You going to spend all night talking about climbing trees, or are you buying me a drink?”
Hand in hand, the two of you stepped lightly until you’d slipped through the garden gate. Once out of sight of your house, the two of you jogged down the street to his car, shy chuckles escaping every time you looked at each other. Once you reached his vehicle, Roy pressed your back against the car and gave you a proper kiss, allowing you to taste the chocolate cake everyone had eaten after dinner. Some part of you wanted to just stay like this, leaning on his car and tangling your tongue with his.
But there was no way you were going to give up the opportunity to let Roy Kent buy you a drink.
The bar he took you to was not the kind of place one might expect a Premier League star to hang out. It was small, dark, dingy, a little dirty. Roy eyed you carefully as he placed a hand on the small of your back to guide you to a booth, where he left you with a kiss to the top of your head. He returned with a pair of pints and his mouth in a straight line.
“This alright?” he asked as he slid in next to you and wrapped an arm around your shoulders. “I know it’s not that nice-”
“We won’t get caught here.” You took a sip of your beer. “Right?”
Roy nodded emphatically. “Exactly.” He kissed your temple. “Brilliant thing,” he teased.
Without thinking, you let out a little scoff. “Brilliant,” you repeated. “Tell that to my professors, yeah?”
A frown immediately covered Roy’s perfect face. “Fuck’s that supposed to mean?”
Shit. This wasn’t how you wanted to spend your time with Roy Kent. So far, your romance with him was something of a fantasy, one filled with longing glances exchanged on the pitch, stolen kisses, late nights in his bed. Sure, the two of you had shared childhood stories, and chatted nonchalantly about his job, but you’d been careful not to delve too much into your life. Sharing like that felt too real, too intimate, too much like something you’d do with a boyfriend, someone who’d stick around for a while, who’d still be there once the summer ended.
And that couldn’t be Roy- could it?
But fuck, he was leaning forward on his elbow and looking you in the eye with that intense gaze, the gaze that made you want to tell him every single one of your secrets, dreams, all the silly little details of your silly little life.
“I wrote a story last term,” you mumbled, slouching into his embrace. “I thought it wasn’t half bad. Couple of my mates read it, had lovely things to say. Turned it in, and my professor ripped it to shreds. Talked about it in front of the whole class, too.” You took a long drink of your beer, your cheeks burning at the memory. “Normally, I wouldn’t care too much, it was one professor’s opinion, but…” You shrugged. “I actually really fucking liked that story. Came across it earlier today, guess it's still on my mind.”
Roy studied you for a moment, his face hard, as if he were staring down an opponent on the pitch. “Fuck ’em,” he finally grunted.
Despite yourself, the corner of your mouth tugged upwards. “Very Roy Kent answer,” you teased.
He shook his head earnestly, not ready to joke yet. “No, for real,” he insisted. “You liked your story, right?”
“Well, yeah-”
“And you said your mates liked it too, right? Said nice shit about it?”
You looked at your drink, unable to stay focused for too long on his fiery gaze. “I guess,” you mumbled.
He tightened his grip on your shoulder, tugging you closer until his nose brushed against yours. “Then who gives a flying fuck what one professor thinks? Do you and I like every book we read?” You shook your head. “But that doesn’t mean someone out there doesn’t like it, right?” He pressed a kiss to your lips, tender and gentle, just like his words. “Not every story is for every person. But that doesn’t mean it’s automatically shit. Alright?”
Whether it was his words or his kiss, something about Roy had you melting into his embrace. “Alright,” you whispered.
Satisfied that you were no longer playing self-deprecating, Roy leaned back, although he kept you close. “However,” he continued, a teasing lilt to his voice now, “I’ve never actually read your writing. So, for all I know, you actually are shit.” He waggled his eyebrows at you. “Guess you’ll have to let me read your work sometime. Or else I’ll assume you write as well as you play football.”
“Maybe I’ll let you read something,” you said, biting back a grin. “Or maybe you’ll let me write about you sometime, Kent.”
Something resembling a blush settled on his face as he reached out and held your chin gently. His eyes flickered to your mouth briefly before settling back on your eyes. “Only if you promise to write a happy ending, princess.”
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