#would it have been faster for me to just go read the rest online? yes.

[seasaalttrio]

got the two carciphona volumes i didn't have plus the amongst us book 🎉

[numberonetastemakerwhispers]

Lustful Desires

Miguel O'hara series...

Pairing: !pornstarmiguel x !smallcampaignreader

TW: NSFW BELOW CUT ✂️

Miguel o'hara. Known for his work and videos online through his years of working as a pornstar. Hes only posted little to few videos, but the outcome of them all were beautiful.

You had found him after scrolling through some videos on your browser, the title reading 'Lust and Fuck'. You pressed it reluctantly, expecting something boring than what the title was. Instead you were greeted with a muscular tanned man. Your eyes following how his muscles flexed, the way his lips curled up as he smirked. Shit he was hot.

And god you swore you almost came at the sight unraveling. (You did) The end where he was grunting loudly as his hips moved sloppily to where he finally came.

Your hands seemingly moving on their own as they dipped down to your panties, rubbing slow circles on your clit, making you shudder. (rewatching the video, hehe)

You watched the rest of his videos, cumming almost twice as much as you usually have in months. All being breath taking and exhausting as your hand cramped from chasing your high each time.

You were also a pornstar, but not on his level. You usually did solo videos, wearing pretty lacy lingerie, indulging yourself with your sways and swoons as you unraveled yourself for the camera. Maybe even fucking yourself silly with whatever toys you had, having you moaning like a slutty bitch. Your neighbors probably have heard.

Although you did solo, you did take some requests on considering to work with others, maybe those who also did solo, or more experience but god you weren't expecting the email you were just about to get sent...

----

Few hours go by as you were getting settled in your bed, getting ready to knock out when your phone suddenly buzzed. You thought it was from one of your managers, maybe even a notifiction from one of those thristy men on your porn site. You were oh, so wrong, looking at your phone as you gasped. Your eyes scanning the name from whom the email was from before opening it. Miguel O'hara.

You thought you must have been dreaming? The one and only? It couldn't have been! But you read the message over and over and that you almost peed your pants! (or maybe you did. jk)

The message was mind blowing to you, but still it was unexpected.

' Subject: Request ...

Hello preciosa, Ive seen your works and I must say you are a sight for sore eyes...

I was wondering if you would love to work with me in one of my own?

-

Miguel O'Hara.

You squealed as your fingers starting typing faster than your brain could process, having to delete then reform your words as you typed back.

'Subject: yes please!

Ive seen your works as well! I'm quite a fan

... and i would love to work with you. We'll work things out with our managers yea?

-

Y/N.

You sounded almost too excited. Desperate even. But who wouldnt be? When a well known pornstar like Miguel who blessed with a body of a goddess? You thought you had been blessed by the gods, or cursed even. Since you couldn't sleep a wink after that email.

-

6:00 AM

Your alarm had went off on your phone. Grumbling and groggy from your restless sleep as you turned it off, wiping your eyes and the puddle of drool that had been growing from your slumber, as you checked your phone. Another email!

You tapped it as you read it over, your body feeling fully awake now at the message.

Subject: Plan

'Alo, carino you sound excited.. tomorrow at 2 pm at ******.'

-

Miguel O'Hara.

It was short. It spoke truth. it was TOMORROW?! You had thought that a meeting would take a few days even a week but it was happening tomorrow! You felt your cheeks flood with redness as your buried you face in your hands.

What was the theme going to be? Did you have to bring your own clothes of choice? Was the fact meeting him face to face might actually give you a heart attack? Would he even like how you look in person? Would it give him a heart attack?!

Gosh you decided to calm yourself down, seeing how overwhelmed you were getting over a email. You took a deep breath and started typing a reply back.

'Subject: Plan

Im a little excited.. more nervous tho. Ill be there tomorrow!'

-

Y/N.

You sighed as you hoped the day would go by slowly, letting the time for you to consume your inner thoughts and the need to be settled down. You got up and went on with your day. (with the thought of miguel lingering)

-

It was almost 10 as you settled in your comforters after a nice long shower, finishing and editing a draft of yourself up to your site as you yawned exhaustly, ready to knock out. The thought of meeting up with him roamed your mind, making you jitter with anticipation and anxiousness. You pushed those thoughts aside, ready to get back to them when you wake up.

-

You groaned. you couldn't even sleep at all. Only finally falling asleep around 4 in the morning, scrolling through pages and posts to help you fall asleep faster, to no surprise it brought you hell.

It was 10 AM, your meet up was in 4 hours, but you'd be heading there an hour early since the place was pretty far from where you lived.

You called your manager, making sure everything was still in order (it was) as you were up and getting ready. It was scary really, as you did your best to find what would be most appropriate to wear and what wouldn't be.

You decided for a skim black skirt, white sweater with a pink vest over it. Your hair blow, starting your makeup after showering and doing your daily skincare.

You had lipgloss and mascara, a little blush from here to there and that signature mole on your right cheek. You made sure you looked decent as you did last minute sprints of perfume before you trampled out your apartment.

Rushing down your apartment stairs, as you hopped into your Toyota that you had bought off an auction for half the price, starting it up as you finally hit the road, ready for the day to unravel.

You made it, but 30 minutes late. Blaming the traffic that went on your hour early drive over. Always traffic...

You had found yourself talking with your manager along the way, him scolding you back and forth about being late, as you just huffed but apologized. You were lead into a room with lights and cameras scattered around the room, an area in the middle where it must have been where you were going to perform the scene with Miguel. It was all mind blowing, even more when you laid your eyes on him.

He was way more attractive in person, his smile flooding the room. The way his shoulders flexed with every movement, the way he slicked his hair back to not let any piece fall on his forehead. He was a man who would be seen as a piece from a museum you thought to yourself.

You had caught yourself staring that sent you straight back to reality. He was looking straight back at you, with a smirk that was seen clear for days. It had your cheeks flushed and your manager still fussing on how you weren't paying attention to his lecture.

It didn't matter after you and miguel had walked up to eachother greeting eachother and eachothers managers. You smiled sheepishly as he smiled back as well.

"Alo preciosa.." He said, his voice sounded rough and smooth a hint of a grunt being heard.

"Hey.." you said your voice almost a squeak from how shy you were. You earned a chuckled from him as he took your hand in his as he gave it a firm squeeze, placing a kiss on the back of your palm.

"No need to be shy carino, since we're working with eachother today." He reassured, which made not only your heart flutter but your other heart beat with need. (oopsies)

You nodded as you chuckled to yourself, looking up into his coffee brown eyes, his fangs poking out as he smirked at you.

"Okay ill try... but don't be disappointed when I do." You said softly as your managers starting discussing on the scene and prepping the platforms, choice of clothing and need of materials.

It was all so new to you, to be working in an actual studio, and it was a big bump to your campaign seeing as you were only just a small creator. Although you knew this would be a huge raise for not only you, but your campaign as well.

When you were pulled to the dressing room you had seen scatters of different clothing presented before you, making you awe and oh at such selection.

Although it all seemed appropriate for the scene you had to display with Miguel. The scene of which 2 lovers coming out of an argument, which turned to hot angry sex.

Something new to you and a jump to what you expected. Thought of maybe slow sensational romance, him coming home as you both held onto one another but instead happened to be this..

--

After roaming through your selection of clothing, you decided to go for a simple 'at home' look. Silk shorts that clung onto your thighs nicely, and a matching silk tanktop (sleep wear). You finished by getting prepped and sprayed down after having your makeover, mascara and eye liner, lip gloss and instead of your signature mark they decided for you not to wear it.

You made your way out the changing room as your eyes caught onto the tall burly man who wore a black t-shirt that strained against his chest, making it hard for your gaze to be pulled away. He wore grey sweats, clinging onto his musclar thighs just right, showing the plump of his ass which had you blushing like a fool.

He saw you, maybe even you staring at him in such a way, as he made his way over.

"mi nína... estás preciosa..." (my girl...your beautiful...) He murmured, his gaze traveling down the outfit you wore just for the show, for him specifically. You smiled softly as you didn't understand his spanish, which made it awkward but fun.

"What are you saying?" You giggled, looking up at him with those doe eyes of yours, the feeling of staring into his seemingly felt like you were being lured in.

"nothing to worry about." He smirked as he took your hand in his, his own making yours looked drawf compared to him. You felt jittery and vulnerable, letting him drag you along as you both got on set. You take a deep breath, feeling rather tense. Miguel seemed to noticed as his hand rubbed slow circles on the small of your back.

"shh..No te pongas nervioso, te tengo amor." (dont be nervous, i got you love.) He reassured looking down at you with comfort and ease in his eyes, your body seemed more at ease as you smiled up at him.

Although you didn't know what he was saying but you knew it probably meant something sweet.

--

"SCENE STARTS IN 3..." The manager yelled from the back, you being in the kitchen as he just got back home from the pub, really to you it seemed like a toxic plot, but with miguel he seemed so sweet and reassuring, that you didn't seem to care for the plot.

"2..1 ACTION!" Your manager yelled as cameras were turned on, lights making sure they luminated the right places, as miguel walked into the door of your home.

"Hola hermosa, ¿qué estás haciendo?" (hey beautiful, what are you doing?") He asked, his arms raveling around your waist, pulling you close as you nudged him aside.

Although you didn't know what he was saying, reading your scripts and having to scan it a million times put ideas in what it might be.

"Don't hey beautiful me." You mumbled, nudging him away as you avoided looking up at him. His eyes were analyzing your reaction and movements.

He scoffed as he shook his head, rubbing the bridge of his nose as he tried to approach you once more.

"Hey.. whats the matter with you?" He said, his accent weighing heavy on his words. His eyes demanded to look at yours, as he grasped your chin, forcing you to look up at him.

You furrowed your brows, huffing as you were forced to stare into such dangerous eyes, ones that made you dizzy and undone if stared into too long.

"Let go of me, you reek of alcohol." You said, slapping his hand away as you walked it off. But not without him swooping you against the wall, his gaze was sharp, a low growl heard from him.

"¿Con quién crees que estás hablando? You know better.." (who are you talking to like that?) He said in a firm tone, his face getting closer to yours, the feeling on his breath fanning against your lips.

Your lips quivered, his thumb brushing over them as his gaze dropped to your lips.

"cariño, dime, ¿por qué estás molesta?" (baby, tell me why your upset?) He sighed, letting his grip falter as he pulled you close, hands grazing down your body as he squeezed at the plump of your ass, making you squeak.

You'd almost forgotten that this was all for show, all for a video to publish, as you got lost in the thought of acting appropriately.

"Your always out, i..didn't have the best day today, thinking if I-"

"Took your anger out on me would help?" He finished your sentence, as you nodded sheepishly.

He chuckled as he pulled you closer, pinning you against the wall as he pressed a kiss on your temple, another to your cheek before whispering against your ear.

"Meaning it would help by getting me all riled up till we ended up hate fucking?.." He chuckled as he lowered his head, pressing kisses on your neck, making you moan out as you nodded.

He clicked his tongue in disapproval.

"Words hermoso , use your words." He hushed against your neck, biting at the nape softly, leaving a mark as he licked it afterwards, soothing the sting.

"yes.. yes i did.. bu-"

"but what? wanted me to lose my patience with you? wanted me to fuck you mercilessly? till you cant breath, till you cant think straight?" he clicked his tongue again, making you gulp back the guilt.

"Qué desastre para mí, cariño, un pequeño desastre, a slutty whore for me yea?" (such a mess for me baby, a pretty little mess) He chuckled, making your face go red as he picked you up, pressing his lips against yours as you both savored each other. His hands holding you firmly against the wall, your legs wrapping around his waist for support as you felt his bulge against your stomach.

You gulped at the size, it felt huge. Girthy even. He noticed by your face, whispering something against your ear, quiet enough for the cameras not to hear.

"Gonna ruin you sweetheart." He whispered. He pressed a kiss on your temple before wrapping his lips around yours, letting his tongue explore. His hands worked on your body, groping the flesh of your hips, traveling up to squeeze and tease at your breast, making your back want to arch off the cold walls.

His weight pinned against you, making no effort of escape possible as you moaned out his name, trying to hide your face into the nape of his neck before one of the managers yelled.

"DONT HIDE YOUR FACE." Your manager yelled leaving you pouting as you brought your face back up. Miguel's eyes gazing into yours as he smirked, before running his hands under your tanktop, flicking and pinching at your breast as you whined against him. The feeling of his hips trying to find relief only adding on to your pleasure.

He peppered you with kisses, biting and sucking marks all over your chest mumbling 'mine' and 'who do you belong to hermoso?' here to there, not that you noticed, already being lost in the feeling of him slow burning your need for him.

He stopped, making you whine as he smirked momentarily.

"Got to fuck you properly." He growled, as he brought you back into his arms, carrying you to the bedroom, as he threw you down onto the bed. Your body plopping into the soft mattress before his weight towered over you.

"shh.. quiet don't want to wake the neighors." He teased, before going back to kissing you until his lips left yours, as they traveled down your body, biting and sucking at at soft flesh. His hands soothed the sting that brought from the bites, the pain only making it better.

He finally slid down your shorts, revealing the heat growing between your legs as he groaned at the sight.

"joder..toda mojada y bonita para mi ... all for me." (fuck... all wet and pretty for me) he growled as he dove right into your wet heat, lapping at the nub of nerves making you quiver, your thighs tightening against his head. His large burly hands wrapping around your thighs, pulling them apart as he started fucking you with his tongue, making you moan like you haven't before.

"M-miguel plea-"

"Shut up.. you wanted me to fuck you right? Fuck you the way I wanted? Then let me do it properly you greedy slut." You whined. His words degrading you making you nod obediently. He then slowly teased the entrance of your cunt, before shoving them right in, curling them right right.

You gasped as he started thrusting them into you roughly, curling his fingers at that one spot that made you come undone. You felt like you saw stars with how far your eyes rolled back.

You panted heavily, you were close. The feeling of him sucking at your clit with his fingers stretching you out was all too much. He must have sensed it, pulling his fingers out your needy cunt, licking one long line against your puffy clit. He pressed an open mouthed kiss against your clit before sitting up.

"Taste so good precioso" He groaned before unbuckling his belt, your eyes wavering over as he patted the spot infront of him, making you get up, crawling over to him.

He pulled his cock out, groaning as he pumped it a few times before instructing you to open your mouth, his tip leaking with precum. He had to be atleast 8 or 9 inches, girth making it seem abnormal from how large it was.

The cameras came closer to the scene as they made sure to catch your face, not missing a single shot of it as he slapped his cock against your tongue, throwing his head back with ease. His hands bunching up your hair into his fist before pushing your head down, not letting you breathe from how far he pushed his cock into your throat. You gagged and drooled, his hips fucking his way into your throat as he cursed at how tight it was.

"Fuck.. baby relax your throat f'me.." He groaned. As you did your best, allowing him to use you as if you were some type of sexy toy, his sex toy. He rutted himself into your throat, loving the way tears trickled down your face, mascara running down your teary eyes as your flushed cheeks brought a primal part of him out.

He pulled out as you gasped for air, his hands manhandling you effortlessly, throwing you onto your stomach as he pushed your back down, your ass up on display for him as he slapped it, leaving a light sting and a imprint of his hand.

"Qué hermosa... eres jodidamente hermosa." (your beauitful, fucking beauitful) He awed at how his hands left beauitful marks on your flesh, before soothing it over with his hand, before placing his hands on your hips, as he alligned himself.

"W-wait miguel let me-"

Before you could even speak he already slammed his hips against yours, shoving all 9 inches of himself into your tight wrath as he let out a breathless curse. Your eyes rolling so far back into your head you couldn't even remember if cameras were still filming or not. Nonetheless if you were even on stage or at home experiencing this.

"What were you saying? Can't hear with you

cryinf and moaning bonito.. All pretty and displayed for my cock." He grinned as he started thrusting into you, slamming into you faster but with long rough deep strokes that hit against your cervix, making you go numb.

Cameras came close, ones filming the way he was fucking you recklessly while other on your fucked out expression. Your makeup all ruined, tears prickling down your eyes at how overwhelmingly good you felt. You moaned like a bitch in heat, the way he groped at your breast, pinching the sore parts of them making you whine and cry out in pleasure as he fucked you mad.

His low grunts and groan, the breathless curses he let out as he slapped your ass, making it all red and achey before you finally felt your climax building, throwing yourself back against him as he growled at the feeling, slapping your ass roughly, pulling mewls and gasps out of you.

"Gonna cum for me? Gonna cum all over my cock baby?" He cooed, slapping your ass over and over till it was a deep shade of red. His groans growing more desperate as his hips slammed into you sloppily, showing how close he was.

"Cum with me.. cum with me mi precioso" he panted, leaning down to press soft kisses along your spine, as he slammed into you once more, shooting his ropes of cum inside you, fucking it back into you to keep you nice and full. You rode your high, his hips grinding into you slowly helping you out tremendously. As you fell against the bed limp, exhausted and fucked out as he chuckled, pulling out slowly as his cum drooled out your hole, the camera making sure to catch the sight.

He leaned over, pressing kisses on your temple, over your cheeks, and the nape of your neck all the way down your back.

"You alright mi amor?" He asked softly, his voice the sound of gravel and softness as all you did was nod numbly, trying to present a smile.

-

The scene was done and you both got cleaned up, refreshed and back into your normal clothes. You whined at how sore your cunt felt, maybe he did go a little too rough, not that you cared atleast. You had marks littered all over you, from bitemarks, to hickeys, scattered everywhere making you huff at the sight.

You finally met with eachothers managers, both seeing eachother once more before he brought his hand to hold yours, pressing a kiss to the back on your hand.

"Pleasure working with you hermoso..." He grinned, standing back up at his full height.

"Pleasures all mine, I hope the video came out as you liked." You smiled up at him, the feeling of pride filling your senses.

"Might be my favorite tape..." He chuckled, seeing the way it made you all flustered.

"Here.. before we part ways." He pulled out a piece of paper, placing it in your vest pocket as he gave you a playful wink before waving goodbye, which made you confused, excited, and sad.

As he left you pulled the note out of your vest, the feeling of adrenaline rushing through your veins as you read.

'mi amor ... here is my number .

(***) *** ****, for when you want to talk or work once more. don't be shy to call mi amor.'

Miguel .

Your heart felt as if it pounced out your chest, the feeling of getting his number was all you needed to be able to expect further things in the future. But for what you knew, you were definitely going to leave a little message in his inbox.

* End *

---

(This is my first publish of thought! Sorry if theres any miss spells or grammer issues-- scanned through it so many times and still struggling.

Hope you enjoy!)

[onceuponaoneshotfanfic]

How You Get the Girl (Superstar Chapter 9)

I want you for worse or for better

I would wait for ever and ever

Broke your heart, I'll put it back together

I would wait for ever and ever

Roy and the Reader finally figure out what they want.

Roy Kent x Reader

6.8k words

Warnings: Language, teeny tiny angst at the start, lots of apologies, hard flirting & allusions to smutty activities, adults drinking, fluffy fluffy fluff

Thanks for sticking with me through the angst! Hopefully this chapter makes up for it because I made myself giggle and blush from some of the fluff in this chapter 💖

~

Choosing a game day outfit had never been more stressful. Normally, it was quick work: jeans, Greyhounds sweater, comfy shoes, sometimes a cap on sunny days. But most game days didn’t follow a text from Roy Kent asking if we could talk. The first text he’d sent me after our breakup. Five little words that gave me a glimmer of hope that maybe- maybe­- we could fix things.

I hadn’t told anyone about the text; not Keeley, not Rebecca, not my girlfriends, not my mum. What if I was wrong? What if I’d totally misread everything at the ballet and in the car? What if Roy still totally hated my guts and was dating someone new- or worse, Brittany fucking Brett- and was doing the decent thing and telling me first before I saw it online?

But I couldn’t help but feel some non-Roy-related joy as I sorted through my worryingly obsessive amount of Richmond sweaters. Despite my personal anguish, there was something truly exciting happening: the Greyhounds were winning. And today’s match against Chelsea had the potential to do the impossible: put AFC Richmond in first place. There was still plenty of season to go, but everyone couldn’t help but feel hopeful going into this game and what it would mean for the rest of our season. Even with whatever was happening in my personal life, I couldn’t help but skip down to my car, humming “We're Richmond till we die. We know we are, we're sure we are, we're Richmond till we die!”

For the first time in weeks, I parked my car close to the building; in fact, I parked it right next to Roy’s big stupid car, the sight of which made my heart rate race just a bit faster, especially considering it was way earlier than his usual arrival time. I had to stop myself from rushing into the offices and looking too eager; but, as it turned out, I didn’t need to worry about how I appeared walking into my office. Roy wasn’t there.

Pretending that I wasn’t disappointed, I started on my game day routine, putting things where they belonged and making sure the gaffers would have everything they needed once they arrived. But I couldn’t stop thinking about Roy’s text.

The night before, after I’d read his text for the hundredth time, I’d responded with Yes, of course. I saw those three little dots and then… nothing. It had been a little off-putting, but I somewhat understood; it was Roy after all. He’d find me when he was ready.

“Oi, you busy?”

I turned and saw Jamie standing in the doorway, holding a little orange piece of paper in his hands. He had that bashful look he wore the night he brought me my box of stuff from Roy’s, but there was a mischievous glint in his eye this time.

“Me? Busy before a match? Never.” I grinned at him. “You’re here early. D’you need something?”

“We did this morning’s workout here because Roy said he had business to handle before the match.” He stepped forward and handed me the little piece of paper. “Told me to come give this to you. And to ask you to please go to your assigned seat as soon as possible.” He nodded to the little note I now held. “Then I’ve gotta go run for somethin’ like a thousand hours on the treadmill, but I think he was just jokin’ about that one.” He paused, clearly thinking. “I hope.”

I looked at Jamie quizzically, unable to resist chuckling at his equally confused expression. “Alright Jamie. Thanks for the message.”

Jamie gave me a small salute and sauntered off. As soon as he was gone, I looked carefully at the little orange sticky note in my hand. It simply read the number for a stadium seat. A bit puzzled, I grabbed my tablet- the one thing I was never without on game day- and strolled out of the office, briskly making my way to the stands.

As I walked through the empty seats, I spotted a lone figure in a dark shirt sitting exactly where I was headed. My heart skipped a beat as soon as I saw him, and I did my best to bite back a smile. No matter what this conversation held, I couldn’t deny how happy I was to see Roy.

“This seat taken?” I teased as I approached.

He grunted and nodded towards the seat next to him, his mouth twitching in the corner, the way it always did when he was fighting a smile. I sat down and looked out at the field; I’d sat out here many times before with my family or with my mates, seen this view many times before, but somehow the grass seemed greener, the red and blue seats seemed brighter, the white lines seemed crisper. Perhaps it was because Roy Kent wasn’t running down the pitch, but was instead next to me, looking as anxious as I felt.

“This isn’t too fucking dramatic, is it?” he asked with a scowl. “Sitting out here and all?”

I shrugged. “Just dramatic enough for my taste.”

“Hmmf.” He paused for a moment. “Did you enjoy the recital last night?”

I turned back to Roy, who was looking at me with his eyebrows raised. “Oh, um, yeah.” Not the question I was expecting. “Did you?”

He shrugged, his leg shaking a bit. “It was a bunch of eight-year-olds jumping around to instrumental versions of Taylor Swift songs. It was fine.” He paused, his gaze shifting down. “But I liked that you were there,” he mumbled.

My eyes fell to my tablet as my finger traced the AFC on one of my stickers. “I… I liked being there too. It was nice to see Phoebe. And your sister.” I paused, letting my eyes flicker to Roy. “And you. Thanks for driving me home, by the way.”

“Couldn’t let you walk,” he grumbled, shifting slightly in his seat. He was silent after that.

I cleared my throat. “So, is that what you wanted to talk about? Phoebe’s ballet?”

“Fuck no,” he grunted, clenching and unclenching his fist. “I wanted to talk about… well, you know…” He gestured between us. “This thing.”

“This thing,” I repeated with a slow nod. “You and me, you mean?”

He coughed. “Yeah. You and me.”

Clearly, I would have to be the one to get the ball rolling. “And what about you and me?”

Roy let out one of those giant sighs and looked up at the blue sky. “I fucking miss you,” he mumbled. “Even more than Oscar does.”

I didn’t hide my smile. “Well, I miss you fellas too,” I admitted. “Quite a bit actually.”

With an abruptness, Roy turned and faced me, his eyebrows knitted together. “Listen,” he said, his voice low. “I get now that you didn’t do anything wrong or on purpose, but I’m still really upset about that fucking article. It feels like shit to be talked about that way in print, which I’m sure you get now. Makes you feel like…. Like….” He tapped his fingers on his jiggling knee. “Like that fucking scene in Finding Nemo where the fucking braceface girl is tapping on the aquarium and the fish all freak the fuck out.”

“I guess you could say reporters are piranhas,” I joked, immediately understanding the feeling he was talking about.

My reference was rewarded with the sight of Roy’s mouth tugging upwards in the corners. “Exactly.” He folded his arms and slouched a bit. “But yeah. It fucking sucks. And the idea of trusting someone with all my secrets and knowing that at any moment all of that could be leaked is kind of…” He bobbled his head, his eyes on the sky. “Scary,” he finished in a low voice. “And it makes me feel… exposed.” He looked at me carefully, as if he dared me to laugh at the words coming out of his mouth. When I didn’t, he sighed and continued. “It’s not exactly a secret that I have a bit of a shit track record with the press and my love life.”

I couldn’t argue with that last point; I’d religiously followed his dating history over the years, a fact I suddenly felt embarrassed by. “I wouldn’t do that to you, Roy,” I whispered, resisting the urge to grab his hand. “D’you trust me on that?”

Roy let out a deep, growling sigh. “I want to,” he admitted. “But when you’ve been fucked over as much as I have…” He shrugged. “Shit’s fucking hard.”

Knots appeared in my stomach. “Oh.”

As if he could read my mind, he reached over and grabbed my hand. He spoke quickly, as if he wanted to get his next words over with. “So, I’ve made an appointment with Doctor Sharon so I can start working through all that shit and be…” He closed his eyes and let out a deep, growling breath. “A better version of myself,” he said through gritted teeth.

“That’s really good, Roy,” I assured him, squeezing his hand. “I’m proud of you for taking care of yourself.”

He opened his eyes and tilted his head to look at me. “I love you,” he said. Simple. Straightforward. Easy. “I really fucking love you. And I want to make sure that we can give each other what we need.” He stroked the back of my hand with his thumb. “What I need is someone I can trust. Someone who isn’t going to turn around and blab all my shit. Someone who’ll protect me.” He raised his eyebrows at me. “What do you need?”

I paused. “Am I allowed to say you?”

The smallest smile graced his face. “No. But thank you.” He bumped his shoulder into mine. “Come on, tell me what you fucking need.”

“Hmm.” I thought for a moment, ignoring how wonderfully warm Roy’s hand felt in mine. “I need… I need to feel like I’m not something to be embarrassed by. Like I’m not some dirty secret.” I scrunched my face as my voice got small. “Like I’m not some little fangirl with a crush instead of a woman in a relationship. Like I don’t have to compete with models and actresses.”

Roy nodded thoughtfully. “Alright. I hear that.” He looked me in the eye intently and gave my hand a squeeze. “But just so you know, in my mind, you never have to compete with anyone, you hear?”

A lump formed in my throat when I saw that adoration return to the eyes I loved so much. “Alright,” I whispered. I looked down at our hands. “So… where does this leave us, Roy?”

With his free hand, Roy lifted my chin so I could look him in the eye. “We keep talking,” he said slowly. “We fucking tell each other what we want and need. We give each other our best, every fucking day. And we see how that goes.” He paused. “Is that alright? For now, I mean?”

“Yeah, that’s alright,” I breathed, giving his hand a squeeze. I cleared my throat, realizing that it was about time for the gates to start opening and for the team to get ready to warm up. “We should go get ready for the match, hmm?”

Roy nodded, standing and pulling me up with him, giving my hand a gentle squeeze before letting go. “You’re still coming to see Oscar today, right?”

“Of course,” I assured him as we made our way out of the stands. “I think I’ve missed him more than I’ve missed you,” I teased, hoping Roy would laugh.

And he did.

~

“Go on, Sam!” I shrieked, bouncing up and down, my knuckles white as I clutched my tablet to my chest.

We were well into stoppage time, somewhere in the ninety-seventh minute, tied 2-2 with Chelsea. I could feel the roar of the crowd vibrating deep in my chest as Sam raced down the field, far, far ahead of the defenders. I didn’t need to check my data, all the numbers on spreadsheets that showed what an amazing season Sam was having, to know he had this. I could see it in the way he carried himself.

My entire body tensed as he inched closer, closer…

And scored.

Almost immediately, the whistle shrieked, signaling the end of the game, and Richmond’s new place at the top of the Premier League standings. I screamed and threw my tablet into an empty dugout seat, knowing Will would be too excited to properly catch it. I followed the gaffers out onto the pitch, joining the team in tackling Sam, whose infectious laugh I could hear somewhere in the crowd. In all the jumping and cheering and laughing, I registered Ted smacking a kiss on my cheek, and Beard ruffling my hair, and the rest of the boys hugging me tight.

Finally, my eyes found Roy, who wore that big smile, the same one he’d worn after our very first kiss at my parents’ house. His smile softened as he made his way to me, shaking off players’ attempts at congratulations, stopping in front of me. I wondered if a hug would be too much to ask for-

“I’m proud of you,” he whispered, his hands cupping my face. “Really fucking proud of you.” He looked at the celebration raging around us. “And I want all these pricks to know it.”

Before I could ask what he meant, he ducked his head and crashed his lips into mine. His kiss was desperate, hungry, needy. Like he was a dying man with one last request. I smiled against his lips, remembering how much I loved the tickle of his beard against my skin as I laid my hands on his hips, pulling him closer. When I opened my mouth, he let out a small hum of delight, the vibrations rumbling against my chest. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I registered the rowdy shouts and whistles coming from some of the players once they spotted us, the hearty “Well I’ll be!” from Ted, and what sounded like shrieks from Keeley and Rebecca- and was that Higgins too?- in the owner’s box. But all I could truly focus on was Roy. The feeling of his lips, the taste of his tongue, the sound of his gentle moan against my mouth, the smell of the cologne I’d bought for him in Paris, my fingers digging into the fabric of his shirt, the intense pounding of his heart.

“Oi! Coach! Keep it family-friendly over there!”

With a low growl, Roy removed his lips from mine, instead pressing our foreheads together. “I’m gonna fucking kill Jamie Tartt,” he grumbled, his gentle smile contrasting his violent words.

I couldn’t help but laugh and bury my face in his chest, tightening my grip on him. “What happened to ‘privacy’?” I asked, my voice full of teasing.

Roy shrugged, lifting my face so we were looking at each other. “Fuck privacy. My team’s in first place. I wanted to fucking kiss my girl.” As if to prove his point, he planted a kiss on my lips again, smaller this time, but just as heated. When he released me, he brushed a loose strand of hair out of my face. “What’re the odds we can get through this party without having a dramatic row?”

I shrugged, fixing the sides of his shirt where I’d been gripping him. “Third time’s the charm, Kent.”

~

Roy insisted on not splitting to go get ready for the team celebration that night. Instead, he drove us both to his place so I could spend some time with Oscar while Roy got ready, then to my place so I could change into the little black dress he liked. When I walked out of my bedroom, transformed from “Game Day” me to “Going to the club with Roy Kent” me, his jaw dropped softly as he eyed me from the couch.

“C’mere,” he mumbled, grabbing my hand and pulling me into his lap. “Fucking gorgeous,” he purred, planting a kiss on my shoulder. He moved my hair away from my neck and laid a slow kiss there. “Do we have to go? We don’t seem to have the best luck at parties,” he teased, as if his real motivation wasn’t completely obvious.

I shoved him playfully. “Come on, Kent. Let’s go break our curse.”

The celebration was in full swing when we arrived at the swanky club the boys had chosen for to honor the occasion. As we approached the doors, I tightened my grip around Roy’s hand. As if he could feel my anxiety growing, he bent down and planted a kiss on my cheek.

“Ready for the official debut of Roy Kent and his anonymous assistant?” I joked tensely.

With a small smile, Roy shook his head. “Fuck that. I’m ready to make our debut as you and me. Just us.”

My heart skipped a beat when I caught sight of the affection in his eye. “Just us,” I repeated. “I like the sound of that.”

Hand in hand, we walked through the bustling club, offering nods of acknowledgement to the players who shot us mischievous looks. Roy led me to the bar, where he ordered my usual drink and a beer for himself.

“Cheers,” he murmured, handing me my drink. He leaned on the bar and gazed at me as he took a sip of his beer, his eyes moving slowly down my figure. “You look so damn-”

“You guys!” Keeley squealed, throwing her arms around us and giving a squeeze before letting go, Jamie at her heels. “Holy shit! I have so many questions, you have to tell me everything!”

I glanced at Roy and intertwined our fingers. “Not much to tell,” I said with a shrug, suddenly feeling bashful.

Roy lifted my hand to his lips and kissed my knuckles gently. “What she said.”

Jamie tapped his drink to Roy’s beer. “Cheers, Coach.” He smiled. “Guess this means we’ve got some double dates in our future, yeah?”

“Fuck off,” Roy scoffed, rolling his eyes good-naturedly. The squeeze he gave my hand assured me that yes, we would have double dates with these two, no matter what he said with his mouth.

“Well, well, well, would you look at you two!” Ted approached us, his grin wider than I’d ever seen it. “Caught your lip lock after the game. All ya needed was some rain and y’all woulda given Ryan Gosling and Rachel McAdams a real run for their money. The Notebook, more like the Playbook, ya know?” He winked at Roy. “Went and got ’er, huh?”

Another eye roll from Roy. “Yeah, yeah, thanks for the advice.” He turned to me. “Can we go sit down now? My fuckin’ knee is killing me.”

I stifled a giggle as I let him lead me to a secluded couch, away from the curious gazes of the Richmond players and staff. He wrapped an arm around my shoulder and stared at me with a lazy grin. I turned my body to face him, the gears in my head turning.

“So, Ted gave you advice about us, hmm?”

Roy took a long drink of his beer. “He may have told me some stuff.”

I narrowed my eyes at him. “Y’know, before I left to go get ready for Phoebe’s recital, I heard Ted and Beard barking and running out of the office. You wouldn’t know anything about that, would you, Kent?”

He let out a low growl and bobbled his head. “I may have asked the fucking Diamond Dogs for advice,” he muttered.

“You must’ve been desperate,” I teased, nudging him with my shoulder.

His eyes softened. “Guess I was,” he hummed, leaning towards me to steal a brief kiss. “Fucking missed this,” he mumbled, pressing his lips to my neck. “Missed you.”

“So, what advice did the Diamond Dogs give you?” I pressed, not willing to let him distract me from the topic at hand. “Or is it totally confidential?”

He tossed his head back with a defeated sigh. “They told me to fucking communicate with you. And to be willing to be, I dunno, vulnerable and shit.”

“Vulnerable,” I repeated, taking a sip of my drink. “That’s pretty sexy, you know.”

His eyebrows flew up. “So, if I spill all my fucking secrets and cry a bit, you’ll come home with me tonight?” he teased, leaning close.

“Only because I want to see Oscar,” I shot back, bumping his nose with mine.

Before Roy could retort or kiss me, Sam, Dani, and Colin ambled over, shit-eating grins on their faces. Roy scowled at them, while I opted for a smile and wave.

“Hi boys,” I greeted, prepared for the teasing we were about to receive.

Dani raised his eyebrow at us. “So, this is for real, yes?”

Colin nodded emphatically. “Don’t go jerking us ’round. We’ve been waiting for this for months.”

A look of almost revulsion spread across Roy’s face as he scoffed. “Are you pricks fucking serious?”

“Dead serious, boyo,” Colin confirmed. “Er, Coach,” he corrected under Roy’s glare. “We’ve been rooting for you. Even had a pool going about when you two’d get together.”

Sam grinned. “I had bet on the last game of the season. I am a very big fan of a dramatic slow-burn romance.”

As the boys chattered on about the different bets they’d placed and why, Roy leaned close to me. “Should we tell them we first got together fucking months ago?” he whispered in my ear.

I shook my head. “Don’t spoil their fun.”

~

I woke up smelling cinnamon. I turned over in bed, finding only Oscar, who’d ditched his own bed for Roy’s at some point.

“Morning, Oscar,” I mumbled, stroking the dog’s fur. “Where’s Roy, hmm?”

When the dog didn’t answer, I rolled myself out of bed and headed downstairs, the pitter-patter of Oscar’s paws following me the whole way. I found Roy in the kitchen, fully dressed, whistling and making French toast. Keeping quiet, I hovered in the doorway, watching him as my heart swelled with joy. He moved with a lightness I didn’t think I’d ever seen. It took me a moment to realize he was whistling “Something Good” from The Sound of Music. Unofficially “our song”.

Doing my best to step silently, I approached and wrapped my arms around his middle. “What’re you up to?” I asked innocently, batting my eyelashes at him.

He peered down at me, the corner of his mouth lifting. “Making some fucking breakfast.”

“For who?”

“Jamie fucking Tartt,” he grumbled sarcastically, kissing the top of my head. “Who d’you fucking think?” He nodded towards the kitchen island. “Sit.”

I made a face at him. “Yes, Coach,” I teased, slipping my arms from around him and taking my usual seat. On the countertop were Roy’s car keys and a cup of tea. I took a sip and glanced up at Roy, who had resumed his whistling. “Did you go to the shop this morning?”

He shrugged. “Needed syrup.” He glanced back at me. “Hope your tea’s still hot.”

“It’s perfect,” I stared at him. “What’s with the production this morning?”

Roy plated a couple slices of French toast and brought it over to me. “Fuck d’you mean?”

I shrugged as I took the plate. “You went to the shop before I was awake to get syrup. Let me sleep in. Made sure my tea was ready. Cooked my favorite breakfast.” I raised an eyebrow at him. “You’re spoiling me, Kent.”

“Ah.” Roy grabbed a fork and the syrup and slid them over to me, then leaned his elbows on the counter. “I… am just glad you’re here,” he said slowly, looking at me intently. “I have mentioned that I fucking missed you, yeah?”

My face warmed as I turned my attention to drowning my French toast in syrup. “You may have mentioned it once or twice.”

He let out a shy chuckle, a sound I didn’t hear too often. “Well, I just wanted to, I don’t fucking know, celebrate getting back together.” He wrinkled his nose, clearly feeling the same nervousness I was feeling. “I know we’re still figuring all this shit out, but it’s nice. It’s fucking nice.”

“Yeah,” I agreed softly. I took a bite of French toast and felt myself melt at the familiar taste. “Shit. I almost forgot Roy Kent can cook,” I teased.

Rolling his eyes, Roy turned and served himself a plate before joining me back at the island. “Alright. So, I was thinking-”

“A dangerous pastime.”

He narrowed his eyes at me. “Almost forgot you never fucking shut up.” He took an aggressive bite of his breakfast. “Like I was saying, I was thinking we should swing by your place today.” His eyes flickered up to me. “Pick up that box of stuff Jamie brought you.” The air felt heavy for a moment at the mention of what I thought of as the ‘break-up box’. “Y’know, because you need a toothbrush.” He wrinkled his nose playfully. “Your morning breath is fucking awful.”

“Prick,” I mumbled, unable to contain my grin.

It felt good to be back.

~

That Monday, after pulling into his usual parking at Nelson Road, Roy turned off the car and eyed me carefully. “What?”

I raised an eyebrow at him. “What what?”

“You’ve had this fucking… look on your face the whole drive over.” He shrugged. “You thinkin’ about something?”

“Oh.” I looked down at my hands. “Just… everyone knows now,” I huffed, trying to sound casual.

Roy leaned his head back against the headrest. “Don’t fucking tell me you want to go back to keeping things secret?” he asked teasingly. “Because I will drive this car off a fucking cliff.”

I laughed. “No. It’s just going to take some getting used to. I fully expect at least a month of teasing from the guys.”

“Yeah. But at least I can do this whenever I fucking want.” He leaned over and pressed his lips to mine, slowly, tenderly, full of affection.

When he pulled back, I smiled, the butterflies in my stomach now completely gone. “Whenever you want, hmm? I’d love to see you try that during training.”

“Don’t tempt me,” he murmured.

I nodded towards the building. “Come on, then. Can’t have you making me late, you menace.”

I had walked into the offices side by side with Roy before. Many times. It wasn’t a secret that we drove to work together sometimes, claiming that I liked to use the carpool time to try to transcribe Roy’s shit handwriting to our digital playbook I’d made.

Now, however, Roy casually threw his arm around my shoulders, making me feel like a teenage girl walking down the hall with the most popular boy in school, my cheeks growing a smidge warmer with every pair of eyes that glanced our way with knowing smiles.

In the changing room, the guys all stood a little taller, mouths open with glee, when we walked in. Before any of them could make one of the million comments they’d probably had prepared for months, Roy cleared his throat, shooting them his most intimidating glare.

“Don’t.”

Quickly, each Greyhound turned and pretended to be very busy in their cubbies. I chuckled and knocked my hip into Roy’s as he led me to the coaching offices, where Ted and Beard sat, sipping coffee.

Beard raised his eyebrows at us. “Well, hello there,” he greeted in a sing-songy voice, tapping the brim of his hat.

Roy nodded with a small grunt in return, speaking the wordless language only the two of them understood.

Ted lit up as he looked us over. “Move over Becks and Posh, there’s a new hot couple in the soccer world!” He lifted his paper cup in our direction. “Seriously, I am very happy for you two. Roy, you are practically glowing.”

The furrow in Roy’s brow at Ted’s comment was almost enough to make me giggle. “Right, I should let you gentlemen get ready for training.” I beamed up at Roy. “You pick lunch today.”

“Fine.” He bent his head and kissed my lips, eliciting little oooohs from Ted and Beard. Roy growled at them, but I could see a playful glimmer in his eye.

I practically skipped to my desk and set my things down, glancing at the to-do list I’d left myself before the weekend. As I opened my laptop and started looking at the week’s schedule, my eyes were drawn to the wall space above my desk- specifically, to the spot formerly taken up by a particular little orange sticky note.

Roy stepped into the office and dropped his duffel on his chair. Apparently, his gaze was drawn to the same spot. “I should write you a new autograph,” he murmured, his voice light.

“I’ll just ask Keeley to give the old one back,” I replied with a shrug.

“Nah.” I heard scribbling behind me. “Here.” Roy leaned over me and stuck a new sticky note on the wall.

To my favourite fan. XOXO Roy

I tilted my head up to see Roy gazing down at me. “How much d’you think I could get for this on eBay?”

“Fuck you.” He kissed the top of my head. “See you later.”

As soon as Roy and the other gaffers were out of the office, I couldn’t help myself; I spun around in my chair, giggling like a schoolgirl in love.

~

“I don’t need a chaperone,” Roy grumbled as we walked arm-in-arm through the building. “I fucking know where her office is.”

I rolled my eyes. “I know. I’m just offering my support. Being a good girlfriend.”

Roy grunted. “Fine. Whatever.” We walked in silence for a bit before he opened his mouth again. “Thanks. For being supportive.”

“Anytime.” I smiled up at him. “I’m really proud of you, y’know.”

Glancing around us at the empty hallway, Roy stopped walking and leaned against the wall, sliding his hand down to hold mine. “And why’s that?”

I pressed myself close to him. “Because. You’re doing something, I dunno, brave. Working through something that’s hard for you. Being vulnerable.” I put a teasing emphasis on the word, knowing Roy hated it.

Sure enough, he growled. “You still find that sexy, right?”

“Very,” I assured him. I kissed his cheek. “I find it so sexy I’m thinking I’ll spend the night at your place again tonight.”

He smirked. “That’s three nights in a row.”

I shrugged. “What can I say? You’ve been very vulnerable lately. I can’t resist.”

“Imagine how much you’ll like me after my therapy session.” He pulled out his phone and glanced at it. “Which I am going to be fucking late for if I don’t get going.”

“Alright, go, go.” I planted one more kiss on his lips. “You’ve got this. I love you.”

An hour later, Roy returned to our office, where I was working out a schedule to send to Keeley so she could have some of the guys in an advertisement. As soon as I heard the familiar sound of Roy’s heavy footsteps, I whipped my chair around.

“So, how’d it go?” I asked in a cheery tone as Roy plopped into his chair.

He grunted, swiveling his chair from side to side. “Fine.”

I eyed him carefully, his expression unreadable. “You don’t have to tell me anything,” I assured him. “I just hope you found it helpful.”

Roy glanced through the window into Ted’s empty office. “Are they gone?”

I nodded. “Pretty much everyone’s already left for the day.”

“Good.” He pushed his chair closer to mine. “Doctor Sharon was good,” he started. “I, uh, told her about what happened with us. About all the shit the press I’ve had for, like, ever. About how Brittany Brett treated me. About having my watch stolen.” He paused. “Really fucking liked that watch too.”

“And did Doctor Sharon say anything you found helpful?” I asked, trying to get Roy back on track.

“A lot of the same shit the Diamond Dogs said, actually.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Communication, being willing to be vulnerable-”

I pretended to swoon. “My favorite word.”

He smirked. “And she talked about being very honest with you when something makes me uncomfortable or if I need something from you.” He leaned forward and grabbed my hands. “She also reminded me that you were very patient with me when I asked you to keep things quiet. That you have shown over and over that you care about me, just Roy, not about me as a football legend.”

I made a face. “D’you ever feel like a wanker when you call yourself a ‘legend’?”

“Why? Do I sound like one?” He wrinkled his nose.

“Just a bit.”

He chuckled. “Fuck me then. Anyway.” He squeezed my hands. “Doctor Sharon also said that we… should try to forgive each other.” His eyes searched mine. “So, I’m sorry. I’m sorry if I made you feel like a secret or like I was fucking ashamed to be with you. That was never what I wanted. I’m…” He paused, glancing down. “I’m very fucking proud to be with you, actually.” He cleared his throat. “You’re fucking amazing. Fucking smart as hell, and kind, and you’re great with Phoebe, and you love football, and you’re fucking fit.” His eyes flickered back to my face. “And most importantly, I fucking love you.” He took a deep breath. “So I hope you… forgive me.”

I leaned back in my chair, taking in every word Roy had just said. “I forgive you.” I leaned forward and kissed the tip of his nose. “And I’m sorry, Roy. For letting Brittany Brett get to me and not respecting what you had asked about keeping quiet. And for making you uncomfortable by being so pushy that night instead of having an adult conversation.” I offered an unsure smile. “Forgive me?”

“Course I fucking forgive you.” Roy’s ears were a deep red. “Alright, is that enough being vulnerable for today?”

I chuckled. “Sure, Roy.”

“Good.” Without warning he stood and picked me up, one arm under my legs and the other behind my back, smirking at my surprised squeal. “When we get home, you can show me how much you like me being vulnerable.”

~

“You fucking sure you have to go?” Roy had asked me the same question about twenty times on Friday evening from the moment we left work to the moment I tossed my overnight bag into his car.

I rolled my eyes, biting back a grin as I wrapped my arms around him. “Yes, Roy. Keeley’s gone all out planning this pyjama party and if I cancel on her I’m pretty sure she’ll murder me.”

“I don’t mind planning a funeral,” he muttered, kissing my face. “Might be kind of fun.”

I pretended to be offended. “Really? You’d let someone kill me so I don’t go to a fucking slumber party?”

He shrugged. “I… fucking like waking up with you next to me,” he muttered, rolling his eyes with embarrassment.

“You needy thing,” I mumbled, breaking out of his grip and opening the passenger door. “Come on, you said you’d be my chauffer.”

“Hold on, I've got somethin’ for you.” He disappeared into the house and came back out holding-

“Is that my fucking lucky sweater?” I gasped as he handed it to me. “You had it this whole fucking time?” I thew it on over the t-shirt I was wearing with my leggings. “You prick, I was busting my ass looking for this.”

Roy looked sheepish. “I meant to put it in the box Tartt took over to you,” he admitted. “But I just…” He shrugged. “I couldn’t.”

My annoyance gave way to soft affection. “Roy Kent, you sentimental fool,” I muttered, kissing his cheek. “Still have to take me to Keeley’s though.”

He grunted and helped me into the car. “Was worth a fucking shot.”

Keeley Jones had the perfect house for a good, old-fashioned slumber party. Everything was pink and neon and glittery and covered in feathers. She answered the door in the cutest pink-checkered pyjamas I’d ever seen, with her hair held in pigtails by matching pink pom-poms and fuzzy pink slippers on her feet.

“There you are!” she exclaimed, wrapping me in a hug. “Rebecca’s already inside, she’s making mimosas.”

“Oi!” Roy leaned out the car window, smirking at us. “Take good care of her, alright? I want her back in one piece.”

Keeley stuck out her tongue at him. “No boys allowed! You can have her back tomorrow!”

Roy rolled his eyes, still smirking, and waved before driving off. I turned to Keeley, who squealed excitedly and ushered me inside, where Rebecca greeted me with a kiss on the cheek and a glass in my hand. The three of us settled in Keeley’s living room, bubbly pop music blasting from a speaker as we clutched fluffy pillows and dug into the snacks Keeley had put out.

“Alright,” Keeley started, waggling her eyebrows. “Spill.”

I sipped my drink, trying to be casual. “About?”

Rebecca scoffed. “Don’t be coy. Tell us everything about you and Roy.” She made a face. “Shit. Didn’t mean to rhyme.”

A soft chuckle escaped my lips as I brought my knees to my chest, feeling every bit the young girl at a sleepover. “I mean, what’s there to say? We were together, that stupid article happened, we got back together. That’s it.”

“No, not all the drama,” Keeley said, wrinkling her nose. “We want the details.” She leaned in close. “Like, what he’s like when you’re alone. The dates you go on. That sort of thing.” She touched her glass to mine. “Of course, what’s said at pyjama parties, stays at pyjama parties, alright?”

I shot her a thankful smile. “Fine.” Another sip. “Roy’s… wonderful,” I sighed. “He’s so gentle and romantic. So fucking sweet to me.” I thought for a moment. “He cooks. Likes to make me my tea in the morning.” After a pause, I added, “He let me name his dog.”

“Roy has a dog?” Rebecca asked, eyebrows raised.

“Yeah, Oscar.” I grinned. “Named him after the Sesame Street character.”

Keeley giggled. “Oh shit, that’s so cute!”

We sat like that for hours, chattering and drinking, giggling and singing along to the songs that Keeley played. Finally, after a particularly spirited rendition of “Wannabe” at around midnight, Keeley perked up.

“I have a fabulous idea,” she announced, jumping to her feet with a surprising agility for someone who had lost count of her mimosas. We gazed at her expectantly. “What slumber party is complete without some pranks?”

I narrowed my eyes at her. “What’d you have in mind?”

An hour later, we stood in front of Roy’s house, chalk in hand.

“Oh no,” I protested. “Roy’s going to fucking kill us.”

“Come on, we already did Jamie’s house.” Keeley pouted. “We’ve gotta do your boyfriend’s house too.” She lit up like a Christmas tree and held up her piece of chalk. “Let’s get to work!”

Giggling and shushing one another like children, we tiptoed up Roy’s driveway and began drawing all over his driveway and walkway. Keeley, classy as always, drew very detailed anatomical pictures, while Rebecca doodled an exaggerated but sweet caricature of Roy. My vandalism was simple: a giant heart with our names inside.

Right as I was adding smaller hearts around my drawing, the door burst open.

“What the fuck are you doing?”

All three of us dropped our chalk.

“Run for it!” Keeley squealed, jumping up. “Looking fit Roy!” she called over her shoulder as she sprinted back to our Uber, Rebecca laughing behind her.

Before I could catch up, Roy’s arms wrapped around me. “Gotcha,” he grumbled, giving me a playful squeeze.

I looked up at him, completely drunk and in love. “Hi there.” Despite the number of times I’d slept next to him, I couldn’t help blushing at the sight of him shirtless.

His tired face softened. “What the fuck were you guys doing?” He stifled a yawn.

“Playing a prank,” I admitted. I pointed to the ground. “I drew that one.”

He looked down. “Cute,” he snorted. He glanced across the driveway, where the girls were clambering into the Uber. “You don’t have to go back with them, do you?” He was practically whining, something I’d never heard before.

I kissed his face. “I’ll see you in the morning. Go cuddle Oscar if you miss me so much.”

“But he doesn’t look nearly as fit as you do in my old kits.” He gave me a squeeze and kissed my forehead. “Go on, then. I’ll pick you up in the morning.”

As I sat in the back of the car listening to Keeley and Rebecca howl with laughter, I leaned my head back and smiled, feeling drunk and sleepy and lucky and so in love with Roy Kent, who I knew would pick me up in the morning with a smile on his face and a chocolate muffin in his hand.

~

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[dennydraws]

The art of slowing down

Hello, hello! Good morning :D It's time for another art related blog post that I'm surprised to find people following and enjoying? \o/ I want to be consistent with these cause over the past year or so I started to feel less and less connected to my art or art in general and talking about art related things does help me get back into that mindset!

And today I wanted to ramble about .... slowing down.

I recently working on a personal piece and while completely enjoying the process I reached the background part. As usual my first idea was - ok I'm not drawing this grass or bushes or whatever, surely I can find a brush somewhere. Long story short I spent more time looking for a brush than working on my line art, got upset and started drawing my own grass. And as I was drawing the grass I got completely sucked into the process, I was actually enjoying it? Why was I in a hurry to get the background done anyway? So I could post it asap? Why?

(Behold! My very much self painted and slightly burned grass :D)

I'm pretty sure I rambled about this before somewhere... or here and I have a need to ramble about it once more xD;;

It feels like nowadays we're so bombarded with fast content. Even looking on youtube for art videos you keep being fed with - draw faster, improve better, complete X for Y days etc ... and I was in that trap too. My first idea all the time is how do I get faster? But now I'm starting to replace it with - how do I get comfortable. If the process is comfortable, then it doesn't have to be faster, does it?

Thanks to beloved algorithm and social media trends we are taught that our art is worth 5 seconds on the platform's dash, so yes why should I invest hours and hours into a piece that will go into the endless scrolling void in 5 seconds? Yes, my mutuals will see it, but they will also see my blorbo scribbles that I did in an hour or less. It feels like the current climate online doesn't want you to slow down and enjoy the process of your own art and instead invest in quantity over quality.

That's not good for your brain, or mine. I've always been one to enjoy the process until recent years where I found myself constantly stressing over how fast I draw or what's the point when something easy can get me seemingly same results - just how a grass brush would seemingly get me same results - it didn't. I felt way happier with me drawing the grass myself. Will anyone notice or care? I don't know but it made me really happier that I did it.

I can't help how people like or dislike my art, I can only help how I feel about it and I rather go back to loving the process even when it's slow and even when a couple of brushes will 'solve' my issues. I'm not saying hey ditch all the brushes, no I think they are wonderful mean to enhance your piece! I only used it as comparison cause it made me, personally me, say wait, hold on... why am I not drawing the grass myself? When did I stop enjoying the process?

But yes, thank you for reading my little rambles, dear reader! All inspired my me drawing grass :D;; I need to post the said piece later on, I was really happy how it turned out too! \o/ But with that said, I don't want my rambles to get way too long so, I hope you have an inspiring and great rest of the week!

[substituted-shinigami]

“Quick” Blog/Writing/Art Update: May/June 2023

Hello everyone! Thank you for your patience! Sorry, it’s been awhile, but I do hope to be back soon! I’ve had a good long rest from the stresses of social media (I wish I could also say life as well, but I’ve learned it does what it wants!), and I hope to be at least semi active again by the time Bleach is back in early July! Thanks again for your patience! 🥰

Now unfortunately when I say semi-active, I really do mean semi-active. I won’t go into detail about my real life stuff, but it causes me enough stress that I’ve realized I can’t deal with it and social media stress at the same time. So I probably won’t be on here as often, and will be posting even less, but I want you all to know that I still love all y’alls stuff and will look at it when I can! I took a peek just recently to try and get back into the groove (the app has really changed in the last few months, huh?) and saw you all were talking about Soul Society Trains awhile back, and I’m so sorry I missed it because OMIGOSH DO I WANT IT TO BE CANON! Like can you imagine if Squad 12 designed one?! It would be a horror show, with a bunch of little feet and eyes and horns and UGH! Or maybe, due to how Soul Society is layed out, it’s a subway instead! Maybe it's an immortal mole creature that travels underground on some well known migratory route, and if you’re knowledgeable and crazy enough, you can just grab its fur and hold on tight to get where you need to go faster! Where was I going with this? Oh, right! You all are great, and I hope to read more of your ideas, and headcanons, and other stuff whenever I’m able!

What else…oh yes, posting content. So you know how I was talking about social media stress? Yeah, posting causes a lot of that. Creating though, causes less of that though, sometimes even decreases it. Like I literally sleep better if I write fanfiction before bed (sad, I know, but hear me out). So what’s the solution? Well, I could just never post, but I like sharing with others too! So what I’ve decided to do instead is post in seasons kind of like a tv show! I’ll work on fanfiction/fanart throughout the year, and then once October hits, I’ll post whatever I finish on a sort of schedule, like every Saturday or something. That way, I won’t feel stressed to get something out every month and I can work on multiple stories at the same time (which is my preferred way to write)! That said, since I won’t be online as much, I may be pretty slow in answering messages/questions/comments/etc, so I want to apologize in advance. Know that I still love and appreciate all of you, and will get back when I can! 

Hmmm…Any last details? Oh yes, fanart and Bloodlines. I’m gonna be honest, y’all, fanart has been slow coming. I wanted to do more fan comics, but I haven’t had a lot of inspiration or motivation lately. I unfortunately might have to save that idea for next year, but if I do, I do have a back up plan that I think you all will like, so hopefully that works out. But for now, we’ll just have to wait and see!

Bloodlines…will be out…this year…or so help me, I’ll- *cough* Anyway, work on it has been going steadily, which should make me happy, but for some reason has got me extremely nervous. Like, is it going steadily because it’s close to finishing? Or is it going steadily because I missed a major flaw? Like will I be about to post it and realize I need to REWRITE THE ENTIRE THING! These thoughts plague me. Current improvements! I’ve learned what chapter hooks are and have implemented them to make the beginnings more interesting! Also, while I think Bloodlines is still a good “series” title, it is no longer a good title for the piece. The new working title is “Learning to Breathe”. I think that better encapsulates the story I’m trying to tell! Current worries! Is the climax “climaxy” enough? Does the build up pay off in the end? Do the dramatic moments make sense? DO I NEED TO REWRITE THE ENTIRE THING??? 

Anyway, I think that is finally, actually it! If you made it to the end, that’s pretty amazing of you! One day, I’ll learn to summarize my thoughts better, but today is not that day! See you all in July when Bleach comes back! I’m so hyped!

[writingdumpster]

i saw your requests are open for bruce wayne 😩 girl let me tell you, i too i am in love with him

could you maybe write smth where he comes back after a long night and is hurting a lot so reader patches him up and babies him a bit? lots of fluff and maybe some smut whatever floats your boat :)

pairing: Bruce Wayne x reader

warnings: injury description

word count: 1,600

A/N: Thank you so much for the request! I kept it PG since my other battinson fics so far have both been smut.

masterlist

You were curled up on one of the couches in the living room. You had a record that you found in Bruce’s collection quietly playing as you read a book. You had grown to appreciate Bruce’s record collection quite a bit. The sad 90’s grunge albums he had pressed onto vinyl calmed you when he was gone at night. The music reminded you of him and it helped to keep you from getting too lost in your thoughts. Whenever he was gone you faced an internal battle as you tried not to think of all the danger he was in. Tonight was no different.

You struggled to focus on the words in the book you were reading. It was just past 3:45 in the morning and when Bruce had become the Bat, the two of you made an agreement that he had to be home by 4:00 AM each night. You spun your engagement ring on your finger anxiously, as if the more you turned it the faster Bruce would come home. The elevator doors suddenly opened. You turned immediately to see Bruce limping into the foyer. You dropped your book on the coffee table and practically sprinted towards him, sliding your arms under his arms to support his body.

“Oh, Bruce. What happened?” You muttered. He didn’t answer. He wrapped his arms around you in a hug. You returned the hug, reaching your hand up to the back of his head to run your fingers through his hair. He sighed, letting whatever anxieties he had been feeling fade away.

“Thanks for staying up,” he said. You frowned. Whenever you stayed up he would always come home and tell you that you shouldn’t have. Something must have happened. You pulled his head away after a moment to look at him. He had a cut on his forehead that was leaking blood. There was a bullet lodged in his suit and beside it there was a hole where a bullet had pierced through the armor. Your eyes ran up and down as you took in the injuries you could see and tried to figure out where others were hiding behind his suit.

“Were you shot?” You asked, panic in your voice.

“Yes. We need to get the bullet out,” he said, leaning on you. You got him into the bathroom on the first floor and ran to go get the first aid supplies from the cave. When you came back Bruce had removed his suit and was left in his boxer briefs. His ribcage was badly bruised and his left leg was bleeding at the thigh from what you suspected was a stab wound. Bruce had put down the lid of the toilet and was sitting and waiting for you. You approached him and got to work on patching him up. You started with the bullet wound on his arm, digging out the bullet before stitching up the wound as best as you could. Since he’d become Batman you had done research on first aid, watching tutorial videos and even taking an online class. Bruce winced as you dabbed alcohol over the cut on his forehead.

“I know it hurts. I’m sorry, baby,” you whispered sweetly. Bruce reached out and rested his hands on your waist as you leaned over him to work on the wound on his face.

“Don’t be sorry for taking care of me,” he said. You carefully sutured the cut on his forehead together. You’d gotten better at keeping his wounds from scarring over the years. You knew the bullet wound would scar though. You hadn’t figured out a way to keep them from scarring yet.

“I’m just sorry it hurts,” you said. “I wish nothing ever hurt you,” you added. The corners of Bruce’s lips tipped upwards.

“I don’t deserve you,” Bruce murmured. You smiled as you got down on your knees to start on the knife wound on his thigh.

“Yes, you do, Bruce,” you said simply. Bruce’s eyes studied your features as you worked. Nobody had ever made him feel good about himself before, but somehow you could with the smallest gestures and quietest words.

“Can I have a kiss?” Bruce asked just as you were threading the needle to stitch up his leg. You looked up at him from where you were sitting in front of him. You loved him most in moments like this. Despite the fact that you’d been together for years and you’d be married in two months, he was still so sweet with you, as if you’d only known each other for weeks. You leaned up on your knees, taking Bruce’s cheek in your free hand and giving him a tender kiss. He hummed contentedly into the kiss. You pulled away after a moment and returned your attention to his bleeding leg.

“I missed you today,” you said as you started on the first stitch. Bruce’s heart warmed at your confession. The two of you didn’t get to see each other as often as you would have liked. You had a job that took place during normal business hours and Bruce was the Batman. Your schedules didn’t always line up well.

“I missed you too,” he said. He always did. Every moment that you weren’t by his side, he missed you. He’d been wanting to ask you to quit your job for the last few months. You didn’t need it. He was going to be able to take care of the both of you for the rest of your lives.

He watched you silently as you worked. You looked beautiful, your eyes focused firmly on the task at hand, lips pressed together as you worked. You finished off the last stitch, stood and looked down at Bruce, realizing he still had his makeup on. You grabbed one of the clean washcloths you had sitting on the counter beside you and reached down, wiping the black paint off his eyes. When you finished you ran your fingers slowly along his cheekbone, and down to his jaw.

“There you are,” you murmured. “My Bruce.” He leaned into your touch and raised his hand to hold yours in its place against his cheek. You leaned down to kiss him softly. “Come on, bat boy. It’s bedtime,” you told him. A small smile of amusement crossed his lips. He laced his fingers with yours as he stood and followed you through the halls to your bedroom. When you got into bed Bruce curled into your body immediately, as if he was trying to make himself smaller. You combed your fingers gently through his hair as he tucked his head into your chest.

“What happened out there tonight?” You asked him in a whisper. The smallest of sighs escaped him as he wrapped his arms around your body. You could feel the way he needed you in his touch.

“A few of them got away. I wasn’t expecting the guns,” he said. You sighed. He was so hard on himself. He had been shot and still he was blaming himself and thinking of himself as a failure. You kissed the top of his head.

“You can’t do it all alone, Bruce,” you said. You slid one hand down to his back and traced careful circles over his scarred skin. He grimaced.

“I’m not alone. I have you,” he said. A slight smile spread across your lips. Bruce’s fingers slipped under the hem of the shirt you were wearing. He tugged on it gently. “Is this mine?” He asked you. You blushed.

“Yeah,” you said shyly. “I like wearing them when we’re not together,” you said. He tipped his head up to look at you.

“Why?” he asked.

“They smell like you,” you said. Bruce let the small smile he reserved only for you rise across his lips.

“And what do I smell like?” He asked. You thought for a moment.

“Home,” was the only answer that felt right. Bruce’s heart warmed, touched by your sweet words. He had to admit that you had become his home as well. No matter where he was, if he was with you, he was okay. He leaned up your body to kiss you tenderly, leaving short pecks down your jaw, neck and collar bones as he rested his head back against your chest. You hummed softly in enjoyment.

“Would you ever want to quit your job?” Bruce asked.

“What?” You asked, confused by this new question.

“I have enough money for the two of us,” Bruce reasoned. “If you quit we could be together more,” he said. You were quiet as you thought about his offer. You did like your job but the thought of being able to spend your days with Bruce instead of stealing the small moments away when both of you were home was very appealing.

“Okay,” you said quietly. “I’ll turn in my two weeks tomorrow,” you finished. Bruce pushed his body up to look at you.

“Really?” He asked, his blue eyes boring into yours. You nodded.

“I’d rather be with you than sitting at some stupid desk,” you said. “And it’ll be better when we have kids,” you added. A grin, a true and real grin, spread across Bruce’s face.

“Can’t believe I’m the one who’s gonna get to make you a mother,” Bruce said softly.

“Wouldn’t want anybody else,” you responded. “Now lay down. You need rest,” you told him. Bruce smiled. You took care of him, as you always did. It was what made you so perfect for him. Bruce took care of the city. But when he went home, you took care of him. Everyone knew that the city needed Batman, but what they didn’t know is that it needed you even more. You were the key to Gotham’s safety, and it was all because Bruce loved you.

[soothinglee]

PART TWO | JEALOUSY IN BEDWARS

warning: poop jokes, cursing, alot of twiiter + imessage pics, bad writing.

suv3 or suve is y/ns' online name! you can change it :) (sue-vay)

a/n: I'm slowly finding a good and intriguing way to write this, bare with me. Next chapter will be longer, more speaking with quackity/other members of the smp, its not planned out but time will tell. let me know how I did!

series m.list | previous - next

A couple more minutes go by without a response, suve rolls their eyes, looks at their camera and shrugs. "I tried chat," they leaned over to the open refrigerator to get a monster. "he's grumpy in the morning, its like getting a toddler out of bed. But I offered him a tenner and he took it so we'll see."

she returned back to their game, running around the hypixel lobby trying to choose what they wanted to play. "prop hunt or bed wars?" they ask, moving their icon to both games.

"um mods, could you run a poll-?" the sound of their phone ringing cuts them off. "what?"

they pick it up and the name at the top reads 'cream'. without thinking any further they press answer.

"suve what the hell do you want?" a rough voice answers.

"I wanted you to join-" she looks down from the computer screen to see dreams nose in the camera, "WHY DID YOU FACETIME ME?" she shouts covering up the phone camera.

he laughs, "you wanted me to join stream, so I did." he responds nonchalantly.

"I could've been showing chat my phone and they would've seen your ginormous snout."

his eyes widen "oh, 'gi-nor-mous'," he breaks it up, singing the word. "that's a big word, even for you."

they roll their eyes and flip him off under the table so the stream wouldn't see, "shut up, join discord."

he pouts, his morning voice gruff and muffled "do I have too?"

"do you still want that gifted young man?"

he nods and salutes, "sir yes sir." and hangs up.

"freaking nerd." on their stream she tries to keep the cursing to a minimum after a angry parent @'d them on twitter saying that their child shouldn't be watching something so profound. They were a grown ass adult, it wasn't her fault that the kid was watching them. But for the sake of any of her younger viewers they thought it would be best to just stop.

"you never offered me a 'tenner', to join vc." a voice rang out, but it wasn't dreams.

"hello..?" she replied unsure of who had joined. Opening up discord the only other person in vc besides her was quackity.

"hello suve!" the chat gets faster. "I just wanted to tell you that you should check twitter."

"oh god, what happened now?"

"two words, dream. beef."

she chuckles and opens her notifications, dream had tagged her in a post. "I swear one day this man is going to make me go crazy."

“I tried defending you, did’ya see?” He comments after a couple of seconds, watching her face contort through the stream.

“yeah…” she mumbles liking a couple more tweets before yelling at dream to join vc through text. “my knight in shinning..Twitter.” She giggles and brushes the loose strand of hair from her face. "what the hell is wrong with calla..?"

he laughs and on the poll he votes ‘bedwars’, “if you end up playing bedwars could I join?”

she looks up for a second, “yeah of course, you don’t have to ask.” the poll had been finalized and bedwars won by 30%. “you guys love to see me suffer,” they sigh. “alright q join, I’ll add you to my party. I just messaged Dream to hurry up.”

“okay! what is he doing anyway? taking a dump?”

the ‘user joined’ sound goes off and dream coughs, “sorry I had to use the bathroom.”

Quackity pauses and y/n snickers, “quackity don’t.”

“..it was a two, wasn’t it?”

“QUACKITY!”

“YOU ARE DIGUSTING,” dream shouts “that is none of your concern!”

“WASN’T IT.” He repeats slapping the arm rest of his chair, y/n shouts a ‘I can’t breathe!’ and dream curses under his breath.

“yeah.”

Quackity laughs so hard that he falls out of his chair and shouts “oh shit!” and it sends y/n into another fit of laughter.

“Oh my god!” She gasps grasping onto the desk, “I can’t breathe, I need my inhaler!”

“okay calm down,” dream chuckles shaking his head “it’s not that funny,”

y/n lets out a breath and sighs, wiping the tears from their eyes. “it kinda is.”

“ANYWAY,” dream starts changing the subject “what are you doing?”

“me and quackity were planning on playing bedwars, wanna join?”

quackity grunts “I kinda just wanted to play with just the two of us.”

y/n raises a brow “oh?”

“okay, I can wait a couple of rounds.”

“no.”

“no?”

“quackity, me and you can play together later, Dream can play with us for right now.”

“but-“ quackity pouts, he closes out of the stream and gets out of the waiting room on hypixel.

“but nothing, Dream accept my invite.”

➳✎➳➳✎➳➳✎➳➳✎➳➳✎➳➳✎➳➳✎➳➳✎➳➳✎➳➳✎➳

taglist;

@kusuinko

@angelicaschuyler-church

lmk if you want to be added to the taglist!

[spencersawkward]

if you feel comfortable with it, I’d love a prof Spence where reader is a student and goes to office hours to initiate ~smutty goodness~ but Spencer is reluctant at first bc his job but they flirt more and eventually sleep together

me n my professor kink when i saw this: 😏 anyway yes i am quite comfortable writing about this lol. i took some ✨creative liberties✨ with your request so i'm sorry if it isn't exactly what you wanted! 

summary: reader is a student in Dr. Reid’s class, but she’s been something of a poor student-- office hours are the only solution.

relationship: Fem!Reader/Professor!Spencer

content warnings: unprotected penetrative sex, fingering, rough sex, super brief hair-pulling, creampie, dirty talk, spanking, age gap, degradation-- he gets pretty dominant oops.

word count: 4.5k

masterlist

popping in a piece of gum, I make my way to the back of the hall. there are a few people here already, but it's a little early. I'm never early. in fact, I'm usually late; my other class is on the other side of campus, and getting here involves a lot of embarrassing speed-walking.

but here I am, five minutes ahead of schedule and actually in a decent seat. as I flip open my textbook and pull my laptop out of my bag to prepare to take notes, my gaze slides down to the corner of the room, where Dr. Reid is standing up with a pile of papers. he walks over to the girl in the front row, handing her the stack and gesturing for her to pass it along.

I resist the urge to roll my eyes. he's a total luddite. the first day, Dr. Reid spent about ten minutes rambling about the importance of reading from a physical book rather than online sources-- which, although I definitely agree with, means a lot more lugging around folders and organizing all the readings he gives out. if he wasn't so hot, I would have switched into another course.

and I know it's wrong to be daydreaming about my professor slamming me into a wall while he discusses the intricacies of quantum theory. the complete cliché of it is embarrassing. but still, I just can't stop thinking about him: how his fingers would feel around my throat, the smooth wooden surface of his desk against my cheek as he bends me over and pulls my panties to the side--

"glad to see you've decided to join us, today, Ms. Y/L/N." Dr. Reid's voice startles me out of my thoughts. he's standing towards the front of the room while students file in. his hands are resting in his pockets with his eyebrows pleasantly raised.

"glad to see you've noticed." I retort, too irritated with his comment to care about being polite.

a couple people look at me. even though I'm generally not on time, he tends to just glance my way when I walk in and leaves it at that. I know he doesn't like it, although I personally don't care. I hate this course.

he seems visibly surprised by my response but doesn't reply, gaze lingering on mine before he turns to speak to a student trying to get his attention. I bite back a smile. fucking asshole.

as usual, Dr. Reid writes in his thin, messy lettering on the board while wandering around the front of the room. he's quite fidgety, even though his voice doesn't betray any sort of nervousness. it's like he's naturally overactive.

every word out of his mouth is enunciated, sometimes spoken faster when he gets particularly impassioned by the subject. he's interesting to look at, too. messy curls and a nice suit, stubble that straddles the line between refinement and ruggedness.

I type quickly, but it isn't fast enough and the strange illustrations he does on the board only complicate things. I try to write them down in my notebook, but my handwriting is jagged; sometimes it's hard to read. when a student raises her hand for a clarification, I take the opportunity to catch up.

my head jerks up as soon as I'm finished and he's looking at me while he speaks. even from so many feet away, the intensity strikes me. he's gesticulating and crossing the room. I hold eye contact.

I wonder if he dates often; a couple of the girls in my row always stare at him throughout the lectures. he seems to be completely unaware of the effect he has on people. sometimes I'll see him in the hallway and he has his nose buried in a book, or a to-go cup of coffee, or both. either way, there seems to be no more room in that head of his for romance.

which, naturally, makes me curious about how he looks when he's on the edge of orgasm. if that composure is replaced with a contorted pleasure. I want to break him.

it's like he can read my thoughts, because Dr. Reid averts his gaze. my stomach twists with a strange anticipation. he avoids looking my way for the rest of the time.

towards the end of class, I start to pack my things to go. I have three papers to write, and my utter lack of interest in this is making me eager to leave. I shove my textbook into my bag the second my professor starts to make closing remarks.

"don't forget that we have a midterm in two weeks!" he says in a slightly louder voice as people start to move around. "if you have any questions, my office hours are posted on the bulletin board outside."

at this, my eyebrows rise. I forgot about the midterm. I have a study calendar set up for all my subjects, but I've purposefully been putting this one off. I'm not super into math. and it doesn't help that most of my time is spent not listening. when I am, it doesn't make sense.

as I stand up and gather my stuff, I hear someone clearing their throat a couple feet away. my head turns to see Dr. Reid leaning against his desk.

"Ms. Y/L/N, can I see you for a second?"

my heart stutters in my chest. is this about my attitude? he's never asked to see me outside of lessons before.

I frown, making my way to him with a deliberate pace. the tension in the room builds as I watch the last of his students shuffle out of the room. my head turns from the door to him; my breath catches a little in my throat at the set of his jaw. part of me hopes I get yelled at.

"I'm concerned about your participation in this class." he says. his voice isn't cruel, but it is brutally honest— which is worse. participation? I feel my fist clench at my side. my professors don't usually say anything if you aren't doing things up to their expectations; if you aren't, then they give you a bad grade. simple as that.

"is this about me being late?" I ask. he lets out a sigh before answering. he sounds disappointed.

"you're constantly tardy, and when you hand in your homework, you barely seem to have put in the effort. it's messy."

"messy?" I start to get annoyed. I'm only doing this so that I can get my degree. it's a fucking requirement. even though I'm not the biggest fan of mathematics, I still do my best and hand in my assignments on time. plus, the latest I arrive is five minutes-- it's not like I'm stumbling in halfway through the lesson.

"you've never come to office hours to ask for help or explained your lateness, which I, as your professor, would have appreciated." he scolds. honestly, I don't know what to say. my eyes narrow.

"I have my studio class on the other side of campus." I explain. "I should have emailed about that and I'm sorry, but I'm also not being lax about my work."

he goes around to the other side of his desk and glances up at me while he organizes some loose documents to pack away. he looks way too good when he's exasperated: his hands tighten around the papers, his eyebrows come together in this cute way. his tie is a little crooked, too.

"are you struggling with the content?"

"sometimes, yeah. but I can handle reaching out for help if I need it." I reply. he's pissing me off with these questions. I can see from the expression on his face that he's surprised by my reaction.

"really?" he slides some books into his messenger bag. that was definitely sarcastic; I know it was. "because it doesn't really seem like you have."

"I like to find help on my own." I shoulder my bag and cross my arms over my chest. there's no way he's gonna talk to me like that and expect me to not respond in kind.

"I'm reserving a slot on Wednesday evening for you," he looks up and holds my gaze. hazel irises that dare me to challenge him further. "I want you in office hours so that we can figure out how you're gonna catch up before the midterm."

"fine." I turn on my heel and leave. I know I'm not supposed to talk to my professor like that, or even to behave with such apprehension. but something about him makes me angry in the kind of way that settles in my stomach. I hate that he's right. I'm not going to do well on that damn test if I don't get some help.

but that doesn't mean I can't have some fun with it.

when I rush into his office on Wednesday evening, the sun is just starting to set through his window. there's a pinkish glow that smooths over Dr. Reid's desk as he glances up at me. I had to run to get here.

"you're late." he nods to the clock on the wall. I roll my eyes.

"only one minute, though. I had another class."

he sighs and folds his hands on his desk. "how are you doing today, Ms. Y/L/N?" a strangely polite question for the look on his face. he's frustrated with me.

"I'm quite well, Dr. Reid." I smile brightly, slightly excited by the anger on his face, and sit at the chair in front of his desk.

"I didn't know you were interested in art." he says simply. I'm confused for a moment before I remember that I told him that the course before his is a studio lesson.

"I didn't know you cared."

"do you make a habit of that?" he quirks an eyebrow.

"of what?" my expression is saccharine.

"being rude to people who control your grades."

"unless you're considering being unethical in your practices and allowing your personal opinion of me to influence my grade, then no." I counter. he's silent for a moment, taking in my words like they've left a mark on him.

"well, you'd most likely fail if I asked you to leave my office hours right now. whose fault would that be?" he fidgets with his hands and leans forward just a bit, his voice dropping to a lower tone. I bite back a smile.

"you wouldn't."

"and why is that?" he baits.

"because you're not a shitty professor, Dr. Reid," I lean back in my chair and cross my legs. "as angry as you are, you wouldn't be able to live with yourself if you kicked me— a struggling student— out of here for giving you a little attitude."

"a little attitude?" he scoffs. "you've spent the whole semester completely ambivalent."

"not completely." I shrug.

"Y/N, you draw all over your tests and leave at least one problem half-finished every time. you obviously aren't learning." he chuckles mirthlessly. I concede this point; I like to doodle when I'm bored. and there's absolutely nothing more boring to me than numbers.

"okay," I sit up and rest my elbows on the edge of his desk, staring at him. "then teach me."

Dr. Reid holds my gaze for a long moment. we're suspended, it seems, as his lips part and he finds himself speechless. the way I said the words obviously has another layer to it-- he just has to decide whether or not to take the bait.

"what are you struggling with?" he clears his throat and sits up a bit straighter in his seat. that answers my question, I guess. I poke my tongue between my teeth gently, but then pull out my notebook and flip it to a page with some problems outlined on it.

"these." I toss the thing onto his side and he begins to run through the assignment. I watch him pick up a pen and start to explain the steps, slipping into his usual educational tone. his shoulders relax a little as he writes.

I can't see right from the angle I'm at, so I stand and come around onto his side. I hear him pause his speaking for a moment at my proximity, but he doesn't move away.

"does that make sense?" he asks me once he's finished running through the first problem. he basically did all the work. the professor's head turns to gauge my reaction to the explanation, but his eye line is right at the hem of my skirt-- which is already pretty short. for all his attempts to be subtle, he gulps and looks up at me.

"mostly." I brush a piece of hair behind my ear and pretend to scratch at a spot on my upper thigh, dragging the edge of my skirt with it until he can see the smooth skin beneath, practically begging for his touch. "can I ask you a question?"

"sure." he keeps his eyes almost too focused on mine. I try to hide the smile tugging at my lips. now or never, I guess.

"what's your policy on professor/student relationships?"

"my-- my what?" this time, he's audibly scattered when he turns to me. his eyes are wide, dark. even he can't hide his feelings.

"you know," I run my fingertips over the tweed shoulder of his jacket. I can sense the tension beneath his clothes. "like, your policy on fucking a student."

"I--" his cheeks turn pink. he's flustered, albeit not rejecting my touch. "I've never had to think about it before."

"hmm," I look off to the side as if considering this point. his chair is fully turned to face me now, and I'm standing in front of him, almost completely his for the taking. all he has to do is close the gap. "well, what are you thinking about it right now?"

"it's wrong." he stumbles over the words.

"why?"

"well, I mean, you're a student--"

"for a semester that's almost over." I cut him off. he opens and closes his mouth. I take a deep breath, toying with the hem of my skirt. "I know you've been looking at me during class."

"w-what?"

"you're pretty good at hiding it, but you call on me a lot and you get all messed up when I hold eye contact too long during lectures." I say.

he looks down and back up apologetically. he's just sitting there, lap wide open. so I do what any sane girl in my position would do: I climb into it, straddling him and resting my arms around his neck. he sucks in a breath.

"you pretend I'm such a pain," I lean down by his ear, my core drawing over his pants. he tenses as I speak. "but you like that I'm your little problem."

"Y/N..." he trails off, but his hips are bucking up into mine.

"see?" I look between our bodies at his movements, then at him. I smirk as I look into those lust-darkened eyes. after a moment of him not speaking, I straighten. "look, I'll leave you alone if it really bothers you--"

as I start to get off his lap, he grabs me and pulls me back down. the force hits my center at just the right angle and I let out a slight mewl. he hears the sound and before I can register the pleasure, he grabs my face and yanks me closer to kiss him.

god, he feels so good. I rock my hips against his while our lips pass over each other hungrily. so much tension built up over the past few months, so many thoughts I've had of him, now coming to fruition. it's amazing.

"not so 'wrong' now, is it?" I chuckle against his mouth.

"shut up." he orders. one moment of broken contact to slide my top over my head and throw it on the floor.

I sigh as he starts to kiss across my jaw and down my throat. "I like when you talk like that, Dr. Reid."

one hand grips my hips tighter and he releases a groan against my skin.

"is that why you're such a fucking brat in my class?" he bites my collarbone and I moan. "because you want me to put you in your place?"

"mhmm." I hum. his fingertips move under my skirt, sliding up my thighs and toying with the waistband of my panties. he teases me by grazing my slit over the fabric, inhaling sharply at the wet patch.

"sitting in the back of my room, fucking dripping..." he mumbles to himself as he starts to rub me.

"touch me." I breathe out, trying to gain the friction that I need.

"not if you're gonna be a brat." he removes his hand and I let out a frustrated noise as I try to find the pressure I need elsewhere by grinding down on him. he grunts at the way I pant into his mouth, trying to kiss him with every chance I get. his lips are so smooth and sweet against mine. there's something affectionate about it even in its ferocity.

"I'll be good." I practically beg.

"that's what I thought." he slides his tongue over his bottom lip as he watches me whimper on top of him.

"come on, Spencer..." I use the name for the first time and he grabs my face in his hand, squeezing my cheeks.

"not my name, sweetheart." he stares into my eyes expectantly and I smirk.

"you're fucked up, doctor."

"so are you."

after he says that, he lifts me off his lap and stands up, pushing between my shoulder blades until my face is pressed onto the desk. I let out a needy whine, wiggle my ass back in hopes of finding his crotch, but he's not willing to give me that, yet.

instead, he gently touches my skirt, flipping it up so that he can see my ass. immediately, he starts to knead it. my palms are pressed flat against the desk with anticipation, silently thankful that my panties are still on. I think I'd be dripping down my thighs if they weren't.

"are you gonna be more respectful?" his voice is low, one hand tracing over my back. I shake.

"mhmm."

"I won't spank you if you don't use your words, sweetheart."

"yes." I choke out, no longer wanting to give any sort of resistance. I had no idea there was this side of him, and I love it.

he loves it too, apparently, because his hand comes down sharply on my ass. I yelp at the contact and he runs his fingers over the point of impact, rubbing the flesh gently.

"too hard, baby?" he checks.

"harder." I beg. I can't see his face, but I can sense his smile as if it's my own. his palm hits me again, and I gasp.

"you like being punished?"

"yes." strangled and desperate.

he slips his finger beneath the fabric of my panties, collecting my essence and letting out a quiet moan when he feels me. I push my hips against his fingers, partly expecting him to remove all the pressure, but he doesn't bother waiting.

he slips his index inside and I gasp. starts to push in and out, his silence proving his arousal. I can practically feel his eyes on me. the pace increases a bit and he slides in his middle finger. I buck against the desk.

"oh fuck!" I cry out as he starts to go faster. he curls them against my walls and I arch my back.

"two fingers and you're already breaking?" Spencer chuckles as he moves inside me. he keeps one hand on my ass while he does it, starting to finger me at a ridiculous speed while I pant and moan and cry.

"I--" I gulp down air. "I need you in it."

he bends down by my ear, never breaking his rhythm. my legs are shaking from the force. "you need my cock?"

"yes," I feel myself closing in around him. "god, yes."

"you're lucky I wanna fuck you so bad." he mutters. I grin as I hear the clink of his belt coming undone, the sliding through the belt loops, the sound of him stripping down to nothing. I can feel my excitement on the inside of my thighs, spread around by his reckless fingers as he removes my panties and skirt.

he grinds himself against my pussy, coating himself in me, while he releases low, longing moans. I suck in a breath when the head pushes in, every inch pushing me open a little more. I don't have the ability to form words, so I bite my lip and grip onto the edge of the desk until my knuckles turn white.

his breath stops for a moment before he groans.

"so ready for me."

he's not even all the way in, and he has to pause to let me adjust. when he taps the inside of my thigh for me to part them more, I do it quickly and beg him to fill me up. I can barely take the pressure between my hips, but it burns in an inviting way.

"keep going." I direct him. he runs his hands over the curve of my waist and starts to thrust into me at a rate that leaves me panting. it's not too fast or slow, just impatient and needy. every sound that spills from his lips turns me on more.

"where'd the attitude go, huh?" he digs his hips into mine. his cock hits my cervix and I squeak against the wood, but he holds my back down. I don't even try to argue with him, too overcome with the pleasure that's coursing through my limbs. he starts to build up his speed. "don't have much to say when you're getting fucked?"

"Dr. Reid--" I moan.

he plows into me so hard, the desk shifts on the floor and he grabs my ass with both hands.

"take it, baby. fucking take it."

I get up on my elbows to look behind me, just to glimpse how he looks as he gets closer. his curls have fallen more in his face, and his shirt is gone. I want to touch him desperately, to feel the lovely skin of his torso and arms and everything else, but he keeps me down for the most part. all I get is the sight of his mouth open and his hips moving quickly against mine.

"look at me, there you go." he grabs my face and holds me there, our eyes locked. mine are welling at the sheer overwhelming pleasure inside, but his are dark and intense. they search mine for something I can only hope to offer.

"that feels so good, Dr. Reid." I pant. he bites his lip as he watches my mouth hanging open in lecherous shock.

"I bet it does," he explores my body. "coming in here, hoping I fuck you like you deserve. you're lucky I'm going easy on you."

"thank you." I whine.

"you might need some extra lessons, yeah?" he grunts out, moving into me with a bruising force.

"yes, please." I whisper. my voice is practically gone at this point, my mind entirely focused on the knot building in my stomach.

"what was that, baby?" he pulls my hair gently.

"yes— fuck— yes, please, Dr. Reid."

"what a beautiful girl." he smirks. I whimper when he runs his fingernails down my ribcage. I can feel it coming from the way he starts to move tumultuously, every thrust pushing harder and seeking more release. it's fervent, how he takes me and grips my hips like the force itself will push him over the edge.

"I'm so close..." I breathe out as I try for as much friction as I can.

"show me," he drops down so his stomach is flush to my back. "show me how you cum, Y/N."

the way he says my name-- husky and warm and full of lust-- causes me to snap. I cry out as he reaches around to clamp a hand around my mouth, climaxing and pulsing around his dick as I drop down against the surface again. I want him to finish inside, so I do my best to keep him here. and his thrusts are getting more staccato as he chases the sensation my walls create.

"can I fill you, angel?" he asks. he's breathing right by my ear, and the feeling is sending shivers down my spine. I love how his weight feels.

"yes." I moan and he slides his fingers into my mouth. I suck on them while he orgasms, jerking into my pussy and letting out unholy sounds of ecstasy. he says unintelligible things in the throes of his orgasm. pounds into me until I'm sure I won't be able to walk tomorrow.

"jesus christ, Y/N." he slows to a stop. when he pulls his cock out of me, the absence makes me whine. I miss his body already.

"oh my god." I clench my hands into fists as I try to catch my breath. I'm still bent over the desk as though I've been completely sapped of all my energy. I suppose I have. he doesn't touch me for a moment in the spirit of letting me recover from the small shudders still running over my skin.

"that was great." he says after we've both had time to fill our lungs. I push myself onto my elbows again.

"correct." I grin and straighten up more until I'm standing. he stares at me, at the cum now dripping down my legs, entranced.

"let me get you something to clean up." he snaps out of it a little. I can't stop looking at him, either, in love with the way he moves and the way he breathes after exerting himself on my body.

"come here." I bite my lip. for some reason, despite what we just did, this is scarier than everything else. he steps closer and I reach up, kiss him softly. part of me worries that he'll pull away and be terrified. maybe that he'll tell me that I've read too much into this.

he's much gentler than before. our first kiss was full of need and primal desire, but this is more affectionate. I remove myself from his embrace.

"okay, you can go now." I giggle. his fingertips linger on my waist and he smiles. I push his shoulder. "I literally have your cum all over me-- go."

"fine." he starts to put his clothes on.

"does this mean I get an A?" I joke. Spencer shakes his head.

"nice try. when we're done cleaning you up, we're gonna sit down and figure this out."

I let out a whine, and he kisses my cheek before looking me in the eyes. "it'll be fun. I promise."

"math is not fun."

"I can't believe I like a girl who doesn't enjoy such a beautiful subject." he rolls his eyes and I giggle. he's perfect.

[wonlouvre]

hello! i see your requests are open again 😌 can i request jeonghan x reader, enemies to lovers kinda thing maybe where they have the same friends but jeonghan & reader always clash etc etc fluff at the end idk

i know you’ll come up with something amazing as always, do what you want with it 😘🥰💗

balance | y. jh. 

pairing: jeonghan x reader genre: enemies to lovers (kind of), fluff warnings: heights, ski mountain mechanical malfunctions (you know, dangling in the air kind of thing)  word count: 1.5k (i got carried away, im sorry)

💌: thank you so much for requesting!!! this was honestly fun to write although there was little to none banter, i’m so sorry :’( thank you for trusting me! i hope you like it <3 i will try to post at least two drabbles/requests per week :)

To you, Yoon Jeonghan was the type of person that looked like he would trample all over your principles in life. It’s a little dramatic of you but he can’t blame you for thinking so. He’s cocky, annoying and full of shit. The two of you stepped off on the wrong foot when he thought it was funny to pour sparkling water on your instant noodles as a prank during one of the traditional ski trips your group of friends always hold.

Soonyoung introduced him on what was supposed to be the best trip of your life only to get ruined when he made fun of you. Although technically speaking, your cup wasn’t the only victim of his shenanigan because the rest of your friends complained and threw it at the perpetrator before they could even finish eating. But you were hungry and stubborn, so you didn’t let it go. 

Ever since then, despite not confronting him, Jeonghan’s energy and wholebeing never clicked with yours. You barely speak a word to him and you rarely hang out with him, unlike with every single one of your friends. He hasn’t noticed and even if he did, you’re sure he could care less. Which is fine by you. The instant noodle prank is history and now that this year’s ski trip will be your third with him, you have just gotten used to ignoring his existence. 

“Jeonghan’s staring at you,” Seungcheol says, startling you. 

Your eyes throw daggers at him, not because he startled you, but because of what he said. 

The tall man nudges your shoulder with his. “I’m not lying. Give him a glance and then you’ll see.”

To set the record straight, you don’t have a grudge on Jeonghan for who he is. It’s more of what he does that gives a bad impression on you. Aside from the noodle incident, you noticed how much he takes pride in teasing and playing with the gullible younger ones and you hate him for that. It’s a good laugh every once in a while but it can hurt feelings at times and you don’t want that. He also likes to disagree and debate with everyone (you’re just glad you haven’t been a victim yet). When everyone else says yes, he’ll boldly say no. That’s how moronic he is to be friends with. 

Of course you acknowledge his good deeds. Whether you like to admit it or not, Jeonghan is a great friend. He is a beacon of strength among you knowing that he’s one of the oldest in the group. He knows where and when to have fun. He knows when to be there for anyone who needs him. He’s supportive. He’s loving. He’s more than okay. 

You’re just turning a blind eye because you’re still petty. 

It has come to your attention that apparently, Jeonghan has been harboring a crush on you. It’s a stupid rumor and you choose to ignore it because why. Why would he have a crush on you? You try confirming if it’s true by looking at him and observing his actions whenever he’s not paying attention. But to no avail, nothing special stood out.

In fact, it seems like all the staring and observation made you develop a crush on him. Now that’s even more annoying. 

You roll your eyes at Seungcheol’s nonsense and walk away from him to go to Jeongyeon who’s currently checking in everyone to the hotel. You might as well help her register everyone to all the activities you will be participating in. 

“Collect their IDs,” she orders without looking up from the form she’s writing on. “And tell them to fall in line so they can sign the consent form.”

“Told you we should have filled out the online form before getting here,” your complaint doesn’t go unheard by your friend who only glares at you, scaring you to immediately obey her instructions.

“IDs please,” you ask with your hand out and your friends happily complied as they chatted through the waiting time. You walk around to make sure you have everyone’s and as you double check, one last ID was missing. 

“You didn’t forget about me, did you?”

The devil himself, Yoon Jeonghan.

You take a deep deep breath before turning around and face the handsome face you’ve been sick of. Wait, did you just call him handsome?! 

Jeonghan flashes his signature smirk while pulling his wallet out from his pocket, picking one of the many cards inside it to hand to you. His gloveless fingers grazes yours and it concerns you why it made your heart skip a beat. You avoid his gaze and everything else about him and run back to Jeongyeon who’s the one asking for these in the first place. 

You heard his low chuckle and you wish you could wipe off his annoying grin with your fist. 

Moving on from what happened in the early afternoon, the rest of the day was pleasant enough for you and your friends to continue. Everyone had lunch at the local restaurant first before doing the group activities. It’s a good thing none of you are afraid of heights (except for Dokyeom, but he manages). Soonyoung leading everyone to hike the safe side of the snow covered mountain wasn’t a problem for him. 

After the quick mountain hike, you all scattered to have fun and decided to meet up for dinner in the evening. You, Jeongyeon, Dokyeom and much to your dismay, Jeonghan all went up to snowboard. 

The lift was supposed to carry the four of you up to the starting point before your adrenaline descend, but Dokyeom suddenly felt a wave of fear of heights and needed to calm down for a few minutes. He tells you to go on ahead and you did. You just didn’t expect Jeonghan to be accompanying you instead of Jeongyeon. 

You hide your disappointment and bewilderment as you make yourself comfortable. It’s awkward but it doesn’t matter. You’re just going to keep quiet and avoid looking Jeonghan’s way. This ride will probably not be a good ten minutes, right?

Jeonghan holds onto his snowboard while you place yours on the floor. A barrier of some sort to distance yourself from him. Your eyes are glued to your feet, watching them move from side to side. You also distract yourself from admiring the view outside the window, but it’s hard when you can feel his eyes burning holes on the back of your head. 

“Y/N.”

You hate it. You hate it. You hate it. 

Why does your name sound so melodic coming from his mouth?

You turn your head and raise your eyebrows, waiting for him to continue. 

But the lift doesn’t let him because it suddenly stops mid-air, echoes of metals clanking and brakes screeching following suit. The abrupt stop causes the lift to shake a little, making you hold onto the metal bars out of fear. 

“Ladies and gentlemen, there has been a mechanical malfunction of the lifts and our engineers are repairing it now at this moment. We apologize for the inconvenience and fear that this has caused. We request everyone to remain calm and seated…”

The announcement falls deaf to your ears because all you hear is ringing. You’re not afraid of heights at all. But you have never experienced an incident like this before. You’ve heard and read about it and not all of them ended well. 

“Hey,” Jeonghan’s voice snaps you out of your dilemma. 

You blink away your tears and clutch your chest to calm your heart that’s beating faster and faster. 

“Y/N?” Jeonghan calls for you again, but this time he’s reaching his hand out. “You’ll be fine. Here, take my hand.”

Jeonghan probably noticed the panic in your eyes. So, after throwing away your doubts outside the window, you carefully move a little closer to him but not beside him as you don’t want to ruin the balance of the lift. You unclench your fist and finally take hold of his waiting hand. 

Jeonghan’s warm palm and genuine smile calms you down. Your heartbeat slows down and your breathing goes back to normal. Your eyebrows furrow in both fear and embarrassment. You question the universe how and why did this have to happen. 

“Hey, don’t cry.”

“I’m not!” 

Jeonghan giggles at your outburst and you don’t know if that’s music to your ears or if it just makes you want to punch his handsome face more. 

“I like you Y/N,” he suddenly confesses and you grimace. 

“I like you too,” you confess back, tightly gripping his hand. “But now is not the time, Yoon Jeonghan.”

Jeonghan bites back a smile that says he’s in love and just gently caresses your hand. It’s unbelievable how the opportunity arose itself right at this moment, but it was now or never for him. He’d explain how much he likes you in detail later. For now, he’s okay with this. 

“But, later though?”

“Yes, now shut up before I throw you out first.”

[v-lynx-2]

So .. a little jake x reader, hope you enjoy it.

Oh, English isn't my first language so.. yeah.

_________________________________________

Hannah was found and the kidnapper was turned to justice, Jake was relived to find her alive so were you and the rest of the group, also richy was found close to hannah and in now at the hospital.

You were so happy to know that they were okay and that richy is alive. 

While calling the group and telling them how happy you were and asking hannah if she was okay, you suddenly felt something, a feeling you couldn't  describe, then you remembered Jake, how he just said few words and was silent, online but didn't say anything afterwards.

The group took their own time to get together once again offline, you said it was fine and that you were happy to help, but of course jessy kept sending you pictures every now and then.

You texted jake: 

Y/n = I'm so glad she is okay 

Y/n = we did a great job! 

You didn't send anything later because of that feeling you had earlier, it was growing by the second. 

As flashbacks of everything that happened surfed into your mind 

" this important puzzle piece " 

" trust me " 

" as long as they trust you, it doesn't matter "

" (y/n) is the key "

Am I just "a puzzle piece " ?, you thought to yourself 

A notification cut your line of thought, it was jake.

Jake = I'm relieved 

Jake=  And yes, you did a great job Thank you, y/n.

Y/n = it was teamwork ! 😄

Y/n =I don't think I would have made it that far without you. 

Jake = on the contrary, you showed me how well you can do without my help.

Jake = you never let me down :) 

           Jake <offline>

You smiled, that emoji he sent always makes you smile.

But that feeling was growing faster than before as jake went offline. 

Was it worry? Fear? It made you feel uneasy.  

After few pics from jessy, a thank you call from lily and her parents, the time went by with hearing anything else from jake.

And there is that feeling again, you say back trying to understand your emotions.

You had been thinking of something for a while, that maybe..he just wanted to make sure you help him get more information. As a face, someone the others can trust until hannah is found and then disappe- 

Another notification.

It was Jessy, she told you that Phil was let out of jail. 

You said that you are happy for her 

Jessy = thank you, y/n, this wouldn't have happened without you, you did so many great things for us 🥺💖💖

Y/n = aww jessy 💖 

You texted with her for a while then back to the ground chat. 

Again, no jake in sight. 

You excused yourself and went offline. 

That feeling started to get unbearable

 was all of this for me to stay working on the case ? 

Was he.. acting like this so I help him solve this case until the end? 

You refused to believe that but his constant disappearance made you sure of it. 

So, you decided, to leave him be, not wait for texts anymore, not send walls of texts that you thinks he reads anyway. 

Not to waste time waiting. 

Hot tears fell from your eyes at the realization

 if that was the case then.. I shouldn't bother him anymore, ... it must have been hard for him too. 

You put your phone down and went to do whatever to distract you from your phone. 

Secretly waiting for a notification, anything that would prove you wrong.

But it never happened, jessy was busy that day too, you checked on the others and hannah, she seemed to be in good spirits. 

You talked for awhile and then.

Hannah = you don't feel so good, do you? 

Y/n = wait, how did you know? 

Hannah = I just noticed it.

Y/n = eh.. well, it isn't a big deal, really. 

Hannah = No, it's fine , you can talk to me 

Y/n = you went through much, I don't want you to think about this, it doesn't matter ,really 

Y/n = so how is richy? 

You tried to change the topic, hannah noticed but she didn't say anything about it. 

As you tried to keep your emotions in check, you went to read your old massages again with Jake, before they used to feel good, now.. they only made you feel worse.

Could it be the end, because he didn't reply yet.

A notification came after a while. 

Jake= if you don't mind, I read your conversation with hannah. 

Y/n = and ? 

Jake = I think she is, right.

Y/n = you don't have to do this again, we found her. 

Jake = of course, I apologize.

Something stopped you from texting right after. 

If finding hannah was the only important thing, why does he bother texting me again? 

Is it.. out of pity? .. he must felt like he owed me something..

A day later, without a text from you to begin his day, he started to grow worried.

He went to check on you but you were offline, this wasn't usual around that time, he made nym0s to alert him once you go online, but you didn't that day.

I knew this was gonna happen, she was only helping me out of fear.. 

Jake spent that day wondering if he should resume you that he won't harm you, but that is something he might not be able to control.. it could be dangerous for you to be with him. 

His thoughts did make him feel any better, as they all turn in your direction. 

Next day,

Nym0s sent an alert to jake. 

 phil is calling, you look at your phone expecting someone else, but you were disappointed.

Phil -> Y/n, hello there cutie, I wanted to thank you for getting me out of jail, you know, why don't you come to duskwood? 

A party at my place, just for you, dear. 

Y/n -> a party?, for me? Aww that is so nice of you, phil, I would love to- 

Suddenly the call has ended 

Jake = I terminated the call. 

Y/n = but why did you do that?!  

Jake = didn't you promise me something?.

Y/n = what does it matter now?!

Jake = I'm aware of the fact that the culprit is already taken care of , but you know I can't stand him.

Y/n = who? Phil ? , he was let out of jail after a false charge.

Jake = I'm also aware of that fact.

You stopped replying, why is he still doing this anyway, am I still useful? 

Of course, as a cover. 

Jake = y/n, you aren't planning to go to duskwood, are you?

You didn't reply again .

Jake = y/n ? 

Jake = are you alright?

  You decided to text him this is non of his business but you paused to wipe your tears as them falling on the screen made it harder to text. 

Jake = why are you doing this? 

Fear has found it's way to Jake's heart once again because of you, he couldn't stand the thought of losing you, but he tried to be as understanding as possible.. as much as he could. 

Y/n = I'm just giving you space, wouldn't it be better if I didn't waste your time? And no, don't worry I'm not going,  I don't want remember this again.

Y/n = it's fine , jake. .. you can just leave. 

He couldn't understand what you meant by that, he just felt how hurt you were, which made him feel hurt as well.

Jake = y/n, what makes you think I want to leave? 

            Y/n <offline>

You just didn't want to have that conversation, you already feel pitiful and hate yourself for it. 

Your heart was aching, with every second that passed. 

Till your phone started ringing. 

You thought it was probably Phil again, and this time you were wrong.

It was Jake, but why would he call now anyway? 

You tried to ignore him, but the pain you felt in your chest was too hard to bear. 

You answered. 

Jake -> y/n, please, listen to me, I want you to tell me what happened. 

You were trying to calm down so you could say a thing, it was his same voice changer and that tone of his. 

You couldn't help but remember the times you felt so happy to hear from him. 

Y/n -> ....n..nothing.  

Jake did something different this time, he turned of the voice changing program. 

Jake -> y/n, I understand if you want to cut ties with me after all of this, .. I wouldn't blame you.

Jake -> I want you to know that I had the best time of my life with you and I will cherish these moments. 

Jake -> I understand your fear, I know you wouldn't want to be associated with a person like I am. 

Jake -> so, don't worry, I will go away, after you tell me that you are okay. 

Jake -> I want to hear it from you, one last time. 

You took a while to reply, but he waited, he didn't want to do anything else but wait.. hold you.. and tell you everything will be okay,  but he thinks now that you don't want this.. you don't want him.. a person who no one can trust, it is surprising, he made get in a lot of dangerous situations before, only him to blame. 

Y/n -> I'm.. not afraid, not of you or anyone.  

Jake -> y/n .. 

Y/n -> I love you, okay!, I just .. I just can't stand the fact that.. you were only here for someone else... I know it's selfish of me, I know nothing should be about me at all! 

Just .. just why? ... why did you make me feel this way if you didn't actually like me? ..  why?. .. 

Jake -> I feel the same way, ever since we met, you piqued my interest, I started to think of you constantly, even after trying to control myself, because I know how dangerous it would be for both of us... y/n, I love you. 

Jake -> I understand how you feel, you trusted me blindly through this whole situation, without me giving you any proof. 

Jake -> y/n, I don't want to leave, I want to be with you, that's why I had been absent for a while, i want to make our dreams a reality. 

Jake -> I want you to be there. With me. 

Y/n-> .. you know.. I like your voice.

Jake -> Haha,  I love yours.  

Y/n -> you said something about proof, what did you mean by that? 

Jake -> you will know when the time comes, love.

Y/n -> oooh come on! For real ! 

Jake -> yes, now, tell me. What would you like to do today? 

Y/n -> I.. didn't feel like doing anything today..

Jake -> do you remember that virtual date you had with Jessica? 

Y/n -> don't tell me, you don't like her either? 

Jake-> not as much as her brother, but I like her idea. 

Y/n -> so? 

Jake -> if you are feeling better now, I want to ask you if.. we can a have a virtual date, what do you think? 

Y/n -> I will tell you when the time comes. 

Jake -> I love you, y/n. 

Y/n -> I love you too. 

Bonus:

Phil = hey, I didn't hear your reply.

??? = :)

Phil = what?

<you can't reply to this conversation>

[warmau]

☆ko-fi au: rich kid!au inseong other rich kid aus: hongseok | hyungwon | haechan

you should have known something was wrong when your date didn't send you the address for the restaurant you two were going to meet at for the first time

instead opting for an expensive and suspicious-looking black car that makes itself a nuisance in front of your apartment building

you stare at it from the door and beside you is your neighbor, a busybody office worker named dawon, who holds his mail in one hand and twists his mouth up into a frown

"i wouldn't get in that car if i were you."

"it looks like it's a bmw"

"this date of yours is starting to look like a psychopath."

you roll your eyes, but the sentiment isn't lost on you

who has the money to rent this kind of car? all for a dinner date?

you look at your phone where there's a text from your date, kim inseong, who you met through one of those online dating apps you had sworn you'd never use

but with the years passing by and your friends all gushing about the fountain of love and relationship

you had caved

actually, you had caved after a particularly teary-eyed solo re-watch of breakfast at tiffany's

not that you really cared about the plot or anything - just that the fantasy of being loved and taken care of for the rest of your life - well

whatever, the point was you had made a profile and you had matched with inseong

you were initially worried about him being a catfish - the one unnormal thing on his profile was the fact that he was gorgeous

but a video chat had melted those doubts away

still, this car and this secret reservation was starting to raise red flags

"im taking down the license plate number"

dawon says and you re-read the text from inseong again

'are you sure you can't just tell me the address of this place? i can take the train'

'don't worry, the car will get you there faster and the hostess knows the driver so you won't have any issues with the reservation'

you slip your phone into your pocket, suddenly aware that all you're bringing is it and your keys

dawon is furiously taking photos of the car now and you tell him it'll be ok

he asks before you go out to the car, "what's this guys name?"

"kim - kim inseong."

dawon's eyes go wide and he gapes, you tell him to stop fooling around as you wave goodbye

just as the door shuts, you don't hear dawon go

"that kim inseong?"

the driver is quiet but polite and you try to overcompensate with your manners and not pester him about where you're going

the inside of the car smells of new leather and there isn't a speck of dirt or evidence of anyone else being in here but you

the city's winding streets and lights both distract and worry you and you nervously tap on the dating app to see inseong's profile again

a mirror selfie is the first picture, he's smiling and looks like he might be in a fancy hotel bathroom somewhere

the next picture is him and a couple of what you assume are work buddies

the next is him at a bookshop, wearing pretty framed glasses that compliment the shape of his face

his interests are artsy and he says he works in photography

he's a cancer and he likes ballads and doing puzzles

his profile is pretty generic, you don't want to be vain but you'd matched with him because he was totally hot, but also after talking you'd come to realize there was more

he was definitely witty, charming, and didn't ever send you the kind of messages you had heard horror stories about

(three am hookups or requests for pictures of your feet)

you close the app, just as the driver parks the car and you expect to get out at some small, but cute italian place

or at most somewhere more new and stylish that might have been mentioned in a magazine

you do not think you're going to stop in front of one of seoul's most high-end restaurants

the kind of place that looks like it should be a palace - high rise ceilings and huge fountains and a line of hopeful socialities waiting around the corner praying someone miss their reservation

the driver comes around to your side, opening the door and suddenly you look down and think

im not dressed for this place, hell im not a person made for this place

you step out and he motions for you to pass the line, up the stairs and into the huge doors

as soon as the hostess sees him she shoves forward a lanky looking valet boy and sends you a big, red-lipsticked smile

"ah, you're mr. kim's date. come with me - he's in our private dining room."

you feel like a newborn animal walking on shakey legs as you follow her, you walk past the first level of dinners who are seated at elegant looking tables in low light

there's a hum of talking and the sound of someone pouring wine

you look for inseong, but don't see him anywhere

the hostess leads you to an elevator at the back - and when it arrives she motions for you to go inside and tells the person inside that you'll be going to floor nine

turns out the entirety of floor nine is one big dining room, adorned in gold and red and at the table right before one of the huge windows is inseong

you can't think of a word to say - not even when his eyes light up to match the chandeliers and he stands up from his seat to greet you

"inseong"

you squeak and he says your name prettily like it's the name of a flower

"inseong - " you repeat and look at him with eyes like saucers "is this some kind of practical joke?"

the look of happiness on his face dims

"w-what?"

"where are we, this place of town is for millionaires - stars, i can't afford to eat here! i probably can't even afford to breathe the air here! if this is your idea of a fun prank date then im going to-"

you throw your hands up, fussing so much so that the waiter who had wanted to come over stops in their tracks

inseong looks at you and for a moment there's hurt in his expression but then something else dawns on him

"you didn't know?"

you shake your head - "how would i have known that this is some elaborate joke! i knew those dating apps would end up embarrassing me-"

"no, i mean you don't know who i am?"

your hands swing down to your sides and you look at him almost stupidly

"well, you're kim inseong."

"yes."

he motions to the photographs that line the red-painted wall, all framed and featuring famous models and public figures

they look vaguely familiar, as if you seen them multiple times on the covers of magazines or newspapers

"im kim inseong, the photographer of seoul"

a blankness coats the room and then, like a rubber band, it snaps into place

the magazine covers, the job title 'photographer' on his profile, and now the inseong standing in front of you in head to toe gucci

you step back like you've just been approached by a dangerous-looking beast

hands flying up to your mouth

"oh my god - you're famous and-"

he grins, "and rich."

somehow you sit down, probably because the news hits you like a truck and you can't stand any longer

it's enough time for inseong to wave the waiter over safely and order wine for the two of you as well as an appetizer in french that glosses over your head

he looks at you and folds his hands under his chin

"i thought you knew."

"why is a millionaire like you on a dating app for plebeians"

he shakes his head, "you're not a plebeian"

"im pretty sure my yearly salary is the same amount as one of your cameras."

he looks down at his wine and swallows, suddenly the air of glowing confidence and ease shrinks

"you're right. it's silly of me to say i wasn't trying to act a little bit below my status by joining the app."

you straighten in your seat

"i - i didn't mean it like that, i mean rich people still want love im sure - i mean you're a normal person."

"normal?" he flicks his gaze to you "no one has ever called me that."

great, here i am putting my foot in my mouth in front of one of seoul's most eligible bachelors

"i mean - i just. ok i mean you're not 'normal' in your field of work but you want to feel a connection right. that's why you joined the app - just like me. you just want someone in your life."

you don't notice the little smile that tugs at the corner of inseong's long lips

your appetizer arrives and you are offput by the amount of truffle on it

inseong tells you to look at the menu and order anything you like and as much of it as you want to

one look at the price and you tell him you'll pass, you'll get mcdonalds on your way home

"please don't worry, it'll go on my bill"

he insists and you cross your arms

"this is our first date, we go dutch. i can't have you treating me if im not even your partner yet"

inseong bites his tongue not to laugh at the simple way you look at everything

"fine, well then." he closes the menu and snaps his fingers, within a moment a man arrives at his side - you assume it's his assistant "let's got to mcdonalds together."

you think he's being funny, but he's not

you find yourself in the second expensive car of the day. this time it's a slicked silver lamborghini that inseong drives with an almost alarming carelessness.

he seems to have forgotten how to order at a drive-through and so you have to lean over his lap to speak for the both of you

as you put in the order, inseong flushes and tries not to look at the areas of your shirt that have slide up as you hang out of the window

when you sit back you grin at him

"i hope you like chicken nuggets"

inseong does, so much so that he eats his and puppy dog begs you for one of yours

you both sit in his car and you try not to spill anything, but inseong says not to worry about being careful. he has another car (or five) that he can use if you stain the seat with your sprite

but aside from that you ask inseong more about his life

you had briefly chatted before you met, but now there was a treasure trove of new information about him to unlock

the weird thing is that you just genuinely want to know

inseong picks up on it, you have no ulterior motive. you haven't had one since you found out who he really was.

you nibble on a fry as you ask, "so are you traveling these days for work?"

"usually. when we video chatted i was in denmark."

you stick your tongue out

"denmark! what a show off, my last vacation was a two hour train ride outside of seoul."

"well - where do you want to go?"

you gather your garbage and his neatly, inseong finds the normal gesture pangs something in his heart

"hmmm i think i would want to go someone really warm. like brazil or chile."

"are you free this weekend?"

you blink and turn to look at him

"are you asking me on a second date?"

he puts a hand on the wheel and nods

"yes."

"well - i am free actually.......but if we go on a date let's not do anymore uptight restaurants."

he promises he won't and instead he says he'll pick somewhere comfortable and fun

you try not to get bashful when he says your photos do you no justice - you should let him take your portrait next time too

and although he drives you home in his car, you are aware of the black car you arrived in following close behind

when he stops in front of your apartment you turn and mumble that you had a good time, after the heart attack-inducing revelation of his identity

inseong laughs and you straighten your shoulders slightly

he notices the way you position yourself slightly and he turns to you too. suddenly the look in his bright eyes dulls just a bit as he lingers from looking into your eyes to your lips

you decide to be brave - closing your eyes as an invitation

inseong's smile is soft against your lips when he leans in

nothing more than that happens and you blurt out that you'll look forward to the next date, inseong watches you scurry inside your apartment before letting out the breath of nervousness he's been holding

never thinking you would give him butterflies he hasn't felt since he was in high school

when you get home - dawon is knocking on your apartment in five minutes

and you two spend an hour going through inseong's photos again as dawon points out that "how could you not know he's rich, he's wearing a 100k watch in this bathroom selfie!"

you tell him you're just dumb, or maybe just charmed by who inseong is rather than his money

dawon doesn't believe it but he asks when your second date is and you say this weekend

"where is he taking you?"

you giggle, "he said somewhere comfortable and nice! maybe we'll go to a market or something."

the weekend comes and. inseong has bought you two private jet tickets to brazil.

such is the world of dating a rich kid.

[coolemmasulivan]

Zoom Class

Pairing: Chris Evans x Reader

Summary (I’m terrible at this): You're a teacher and giving classes online is exhausted but messing up with Chris helps.

Word Count: 1192

Author's note: English is not my first language.

It was a sunny day and the sun hit your sleepy face earlier in the morning since Chris had forgotten to close the curtain the night before. It's going to rain, he said. There's no need to close it, he said. Well, the warm light hitting your face said otherwise. You cursed him in your head, hearing his soft snores against your ear.

You yawned and looked at Dodger, sleeping by yours and Chri's feet.

Slowly and carefully you took Chris's arm from around you and got up. He moved a little and feeling nothing else to grab, he clutched your pillow and cuddle it.

You went to the bathroom and did your morning routine. While brushing your hair, you realized how long it was. You kind liked it. Chris had assured you he could cut it if you wanted, but after the awful makeover he did to Dodger last year, you decided against it.

"He's a dog! It's different." He said, moving a pair of scissors in his hand. "And it was not that noticeable. Right, bubba?" Dodger walked by him, not really giving him attention.

You, that were cutting some vegetables to add to the soup you were making for dinner, raised the knife and pointed at him. "If you come any closer with that scissors, I'll cut you, Evans."

"You've been seeing crime shows way too much."

When you left the bathroom, Chris had turned around and taken your pillow with him. His bare chest was moving slowly up and down as he breathed, and the sheet draped low on his hips was dangerously slipping away, every time he moved.

You almost joined him in bed to wake him up in a fun and pleasant way, but your phone vibrated against the wood of the nightstand. You quickly grabbed it and ran out of the bedroom.

You looked at the screen and saw your friend and coworker's name. "Hi, Sarah. How are you?" You opened the backdoor for Dodger that had followed you and since the good weather, you sat down on the garden armchair.

"Y/n, I'm sorry for calling so early, but I have a big favor to ask you."

"What is it?"

"I know it's your day off, and I'm sorry to ask you this, but my mom's neighbor called me saying my mom is not feeling well and I have to take her to the hospital."

"Oh my god, don't worry about that. Of course, I'll give the class. Just take care of your mom, she's more important." We talked for a few more minutes about what I should discuss in class and about how everything was going before we ended the phone call.

You and Dodger entered inside and after feeding him and making coffee for yourself you turn on the laptop and set up everything to start the class. 

You were an elementary English Professor and duo to the pandemic you were teaching online. It was hard and exhausted. It was you on one side of the house having classes and Chris on the other side having interviews. At least, having him around for a long period of time had his advantages.

Chris opened his eyes and stretched his arms, letting out a yawn. He looked at your side and saw it empty and it felt cold under his hand. When he saw the light of the sun entering through the window he cursed under his breath, knowing damn well why you were up so earlier in your day off.

After a few lazy minutes, he pushed the white sheet away and got up. In the bathroom, he brushed his thees and washed his tired face. He ran his hand through his hair and since he had no interviews he decided to leave it at it was.

When his stomach growled, he left the bathroom connected with the bedroom and walked down the hall. He could hear you laughing, most probably at Dodger. Sometimes, he thought you loved Dodger more than you loved him, but he couldn't blame you. Dodger was adorable.

When he approached the kitchen, he saw you standing at the kitchen table with your back to him. He heard you laughing again and he furrowed his eyebrows confused. He couldn't see Dodger and he could tell that you were not on your phone. So, why were you laughing?

He made his way to you slowly, but when you sat down and he saw the computer screen with the faces of your students, he let out a scream and ran to the pantry that was the closest.

At the scream, you also let out one and jumped, quickly closing the computed and ripping out your headphones. You looked behind, but you didn't saw anyone. You put your hand over your heart that was beating faster when you heard Chris's voice.

"Not again."

"Chris?" Felling like the sound came from the pantry, you slowly approached it, even if you knew it your boyfriend. You could see his silhouette against the wall and when you turned on the light, he looked tired and embarrassed. He was still naked, but to your amusement, he was holding a box of cereals in front of his penis.

You slapped your hand over your mouth, trying not to laugh. "You said it was your day off."

"It was, but Sarah had an unforeseen and I had to cover for her."

He let his head fall against the wall and let out a groan. "You could have warned me. I'm pretty sure the camera caught me. My dick is going to be on the internet. Again." You couldn't help it anymore and let out a chuckle. "Why are you laughing? It's not funny."

You approached him and cupped his face. "I'm sorry babe. Yes, I should have warned you, but I didn't think you would show up naked. Is good to see you naked, but while I'm working from home I don't think you should walk around the house like that." You wrapped your arms around his waist and rested your chin on his chest, looking up at him. "I should get back to my class." You pecked his lips and his chest over his heart. 

"Just try to convince them not to publish the video, please!" He ran his hand through his face. "Fuck! It's probably already online."

"Don't be like that." You took the cereal box from his grip and after taking a look down you winked and walked away.

"Wait, let me leave first." He got out of the pantry and disappeared in the direction of the bedroom.

You let out a chuckle and opened the laptop. "I'm sorry guys, my partner just gave me a little scare. Ryan, can you start reading?" He nodded. "While you'll at it, I'll see if I can get this camera to work."

Far away you heard Chris yelling: "WHAT? YOU HADN'T YOUR CAMERA ON? THE FUCK!"

You saw your students laughing and some had their mouths opened in shock but quickly end up joining the others. You apologized but couldn't help to smirk and laugh with your students. "Ups!"

[lilsuzn]

MLQC Lucien - NSFW abc headcanons

Sorry I was gone for so long. I was busy doing hot girl shit.

Fandom: Mr. Love: Queen's Choice

Warnings: S.M.U.T.  (the reader is gender neutral, but I quote Lucien’s “silly girl” at one point so idk)

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

It’s probably because of this relationship you two have. One that Lucien thought he could never have.

Frankly, he didn’t really want one. Even with you.

But it was impossible to stop himself from jumping into that rabbit whole.

You are not even a human for him. You are far superior.

A goddess.

A greater being that must be worshiped. Cherished. LOVED THOROUGHLY and Lucien can't stop himself from doing all that.

He would help you clean up with so much care. Hold you like he’s about to lose you. Wisper praises and declarations of love into your ear.

Prefers to stay in bed, but wouldn’t mind to do it in a bath either.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

He never really gave it much thought, but if you’d ask him, he would probably say - his neck.

Because he noticed how much attention you give it. That given a choice you would always kiss and bite on the neck.

And the unreformable tease he is - he loves your ears.

The way you twitch and squirm when he licks the or softly blows around them. The way you flush when he leans in to whisper directly to it.

All those small reactions get his blood pumping.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

A big fan of cuming onto you.

Your ass is his staple favorite, but chest, stomach, back or… basically anywhere else is not bad at all either.

If he ever comes inside you without a condom… and gets to see his seed dripping out of you… IT’S SUCH A BEAUTIFUL CHANGE OF PERSPECTIVE FOR HIM.

Nothing can beat the look of his seed spilled on your pretty butt, BUT… damn that’s a nice sight.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He doesn’t believe that some deeds can be dirty or naughty.

He's a scientist. Explorer of human's brain. He knows that every single of those is a normal, human thing.

But given that we all know what is this question all about…

Lucien really liked to draw when he was a kid and he still does it from time to time.

And what else could he sketch in his free time if not the most beautiful creation of this world? You. Naked.

He has countless amounts of those at this point. Every part of you has a separate piece. He likes to go through them from time to time.

Meaning every day when you're not around.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Lucien is not a virgin but he had never been in a real relationship before you.

He had some one night stands. A few booty call relationships, but he had never been with someone the way he is with you.

So you were still a challenge, because he could not allow himself any shortcomings when it came to you.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

That’s a spoiler for the future, but Lucien is more than willing to try everything and he doesn’t really feel any special bond with a particular position.

However he does have a particular group and if you remember what I said in C above, you know where I’m going.

From behind. Seeing your butt shake. He’s an ass man. (would love to try anal if you’d show an intrest in that)

Major bonus points if you turn your head to the side and look at him. With your lovely, beautiful face that he loves oh so much.

He instantly speeds up to the point that no man should ever reach and will happily carry you around for a day or two - you’ll need it.

Because after that there could never be only one round. Or even two or three.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

I wouldn’t call it goofy.

It’s very intense. Almost in a spiritual sense.

For Lucien sex is a metter of high importance. There’s no room for fooling around.

He needs to focus, so afterwards you’re completely spent, blissed and fucked to the point where you could never enjoy sex with any other man.

Toxic trait of this cutesy otome boy - possessiveness, and although he won’t try to control what and with who you do... 

(the man has some dignity and respect for your autonomy)

He will make sure you won’t be able to forget who makes you feel so f*in' good and being ‘goofy’ won’t make the statement.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

I think Lucien would be somewhat groomed, but not bold.

Shaving just isn’t natural and therefore necessarily good for one’s body.

Therefore, if you shave he might try to convince you to stop.

I want to touch a woman, not a girl - he would say.

Carpet matches the drapes (however I like to think that Lucien has ginger pubes dontjudgeme)

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Said first in A, now will be more specific.

With Lucien sex is some kind of a ritual of worship.

It’s a sacrifice for his goddess. His energy, his time, his most attentive care.

Love beams from his eyes even stronger than light does from the sun.

The foreplay will be elongated. You need to come at least twice before he enters you (see T).

During he roams your body with his hands. Boldly, but not aggressively… unless you’d like it.

Afterwards… well, just read A again.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

He’s a very busy man, so he doesn’t get many chances, but…

When he can he’s right at it… thinking of that pretty ass of yours.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Lucien is quite kinky.

He's in for anything that doesn’t go under N conditions. Anything. 

Likes bondage. No. He loves it. On you. And blindfolds.

SPANKING.

DOM BOY, but wouldn’t mind to go sub from time to time for you.

You want you to submit thoroughly, so he can thoroughly please you. Give you all that can be given.

Lives for roleplaying.

He also is really into body worship. He will praise you to the point of incredibility. 

See T gir. It’s really an intense game.

Lives to hear you beg for him.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

He likes to be in a private, comfortable place, when he doesn’t have to worry about any interruptions or other inconveniences.

Best in your or his place.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

First of all he really needs no convincing.

BUT.

The beast is awake momentarily when you wear his clothes. Like his sweater when you're cold. Or a shirt after a passionate night.

"You make a very nice sight indeed."

Other thing is lingerie. He likes it dark and erotic. Satin and straps. Maybe some nice, sheer mesh.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

No humiliating one another.

Nothing that even comes close to making you feel like he might have attempted to disrespect you.

Also - no outsiders.

And no hiding one another's fantasies. He’s there to please and satisfy you. Don’t take it away from him.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Eghem.

Can you stay up all night

Fuck me till the daylight 

34+35

If you don't get it yet, it means he wants to 69 with you.

All night. Every night.

The taste of you in his mouth is heavenly.

The feeling and sight of your mouth enveloping his groin is pure ecstasy.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

He doesn’t have much of a fav.

It all depends on his mood.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Meh...

It’s not like an unacceptable option, but he prefers delayed gratification.

Will agree if you insist, but won’t ever offer.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? Do they take risks? etc.)

OF COURSE. YES. PLEASE.

Why would he ever limit himself to known and obvious, when there might be something far, far superior to what both of you already know.

He enjoys erotic literature. Sometimes reads online articles about interesting positions, toys or new ways to make you come harder and faster.

Won’t shy away from many things. Just remember about what I said in N.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

This man rarely sleeps. Rarely even rests.

This man is a rabbit.

It's more likely you will pass out of exhaustion then that he will take a break from fucking you. Weather it's with his hands, dick, lips or… other things. 

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Speaking of other things.

And fucking.

Lucien invested in a nice collection for the two of you. Vibrators. Rings. Suckers.

He likes to please you in every way he can. 

While the toys take care of you, you suck onto him.

Sometimes you just embrace yourself as the toys take care of your needs. And you go like this for hours. Until you can't take it anymore.

And let's not forget the bondage equipment. Ropes, handcuffs, blindfolds, gags, whips….

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Obvi. What did you expect?

A lot.

For hours.

Until all you’re able to say is “Lucien” and “Please”.

Edging is not negotiable. Happens every time. Often to the point when you come so fast and unexpectedly he just couldn’t stop on time.

Will talk dirty to your ear in public to then “accidently” stroke your nipple or if he feels particularly bold that day - your crotch.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Not shy at all. No shame.

Will moan, groan, pant and hiss all he wants and as loudly as he wants.

Let the neighbors hear. Why would he feel ashamed of fucking you?

LOVES when you do the same.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

He would love to take you for a weekend trip. In the mountains. Renting a nice cottage.

Necessarily with a fireplace. And a jacuzzi.

He would have it decorated with many, many gleaming candles. Set all around the cottage.

The soothing music would play.

His fingers would play with your sex while you soak yourselfs in the jacuzzi.

Then he would lay you on a soft carpet in front of the fireplace and make love to you. True, unmistakable love.

It would be a trip to remember for the rest of your lives.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

First off all, see this meme.

He just emanuates that massive dick energy. That’s just facts. No one in the bunch can relate. I’m sorry stans of the other 4, it’s not my fault, don’t @ me.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

High. Very high sometimes.

Okay - usually very high, sometimes extremely high.

All nighters will happen at least once a week unless one of you really has a tough week or just had one and still tries to get everything together.

Otherwise no mercy. His lover needs to have all her needs fulfilled. Lucien would never allow you to walk around hungry or cold. Why would he let you be unsatisfied in this category, silly girl?

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Not right away for sure. 

He wants to watch you fall asleep. And then see those cutest expressions you make in your slumber.

Sometimes he just grabs a book and holds your hand until you wake up.

Other times he isn't able to resist it and falls asleep. You in his arms. His world at peace.

[plaidbooks]

Dark Secrets: New Beginnings

A/N: This is the first installment of the Vampire!Sonny x reader fic. This chapter is only setting the stage; next chapter will be more about the vampire aspect, I promise! This covers the Bookstore square in @adarafaelbarba​ moodboard bingo!

Tags: mentions of sex

Words: 2233

Taglist: @witches-unruly-heart​  @beccabarba​  @thatesqcrush​ @itsjustmyfantasyroom​ @permanentlydizzy​ @ben-c-group-therapy​  @infiniteoddball​ @glowingmess​ @whimsicallymad​ @lv7867​ @storiesofsvu​ @cycat4077​ @alwaysachorusgirl​  @glimmerglittergirl​ @joanofarkansass​ @caracalwithchips​ @berniesilvas​​  @reading--mermaid​  @averyhotchner​  @mrsrafaelbarba​ @detective-giggles​ @crowleysqueenofhell​ @dreamlover31​

You spent hours on the computer compiling resources for your thesis. After years and years, you were finally getting your Ph. D in History…if you could just finish this damned thesis. List complete, you headed to the local bookstore; you always checked them first before going online, since they were cheaper.

You were intimately familiar with the bookstore; you went there often. And you had double and triple checked online that they had these books. You had a small basket, four books in it, while you looked for the fifth and final book you needed. But its spot on the shelf stood vacant; a perfect hole where it should be.

Shaking your head slightly, you started to search the shelves around it, in case someone didn’t put it back correctly. But you were coming up empty. And this was the book that you needed to buy here; the shop had it for $20, while online was a couple hundred.

“Looking for Making the Revolution: America, 1763-1791?” a voice asked from behind you.

You turned to find a pale, lanky, attractive man, his hair slicked back, his bright blue eyes watching you intently. He was sitting at a table, open book in his hand. Seeing the cover, you knew it was the book you needed.

“I am, yes. Were you intending to buy it?” you questioned, praying he said no.

The corner of his mouth twitched upwards. “I was debating it. Why, do you want it?”

“I do; I need it for my thesis. If you let me buy it, I promise to give it to you when I’m done, free of charge.” At this point, you were just desperate for that book.

His eyes seemed to bore into you as he thought about your proposal. Finally, he smiled, saying, “I think that’s a noble reason to buy this book. You’ve got yourself a deal.” He held the book out to you, and you gently took it from him.

“Thank you so, so much. You don’t know how much this helps me,” you said, placing the book in your basket.

He held a hand up. “No problem. There’s a lot of inaccuracies in that text, anyways.”

You blinked in surprise. “There are?”

“Oh yes. For one, it perpetuates the idea that Christopher Columbus came here to ‘escape tyranny’ in England, which is a load of crap, if I’m honest.”

You took a step closer to the strange man. “Do you have a source on that?”

He thought about it, chuckling to himself about something, before he answered. “Well, I am in the process of transcribing a manuscript from the man himself. But it hasn’t been published quite yet, so I doubt it’ll be of use to you for your thesis.”

“Wh—who are you?” you asked in awe.

He held a hand out for you to shake. “Dr. Dominick Carisi Jr., but you, my dear, may call me Sonny.”

Your eyes widened in shock, and you quickly shook his hand. “Dr. Carisi? Oh my god! I’ve been reading your work in class; I loved your thesis on slavery!” You had never seen a picture of him, had no idea he was so young; he was about your age. You had expected him to be an old man, at least in his 80s, not this attractive man in his early 40s at most.

He barked out a laugh. “You’ve really been reading my work? I’m flattered. I didn’t think anyone put stock in my texts.” While it was true he was a world renowned historian, his work was seen as highly controversial. He had a knack for citing manuscripts and journal entries, things that no one had discovered before he brought them to the limelight. But every authenticator had proven that the writings were from the time period. And that was enough for you.

“Please, sir, er, Doctor. Could I spend a day with you, pick your brain for my thesis? I’ll—I’ll buy the drinks and food, just…please?” you asked, suddenly embarrassed.

But Sonny’s smile grew. “I’d like that. But only if you call me Sonny. If you’re doing your thesis, then I assume you’re almost done with your doctorate?” You nodded, and he continued, “then in my eyes, we’re equals, and you don’t need to call me ‘Doctor’.”

Your heart beat a little faster when he called you equals. “Thank you so much Doc—Sonny. Does the coffeeshop next door work for you?”

“It does. And I’m free all week, whenever you need me.”

“How about tomorrow morning? I don’t have class until 3pm; I hope that’s enough time to chat.”

He gave you that heart melting smile once more. “Sounds good. See you tomorrow.” Then he took your hand and kissed it. As he walked away, your knees felt weak. You were infatuated within five minutes of talking to him.

 **********************

Sonny turned out to be an incredible source of information. Plus, he brought books that he thought would help you, letting you borrow what you needed. And, like yesterday, you found yourself completely enamored with him. He didn’t have a ring on, so you assumed him unmarried, but you didn’t know how to bring it up without being weird. Sure, you were close in age, but he was done with school, became a published historian, while you were still finishing up college. But he never talked down to you; on the contrary, he seemed highly interested in what you had to say.

Like before, you had been nervous—star-struck, really—when you met up with him. But as the hours ticked by, you found yourself more and more comfortable with him. He was highly intelligent, especially about history. You had found it hard to find someone who was as interested in history as you were, without sounding like a pretentious asshole. But Sonny checked all those boxes for you. You were just unsure if he felt the same.

“When is your thesis due? I feel like it’s still early in the academic year,” he asked.

You cleared your throat. “It is; I still have months and months to work on it. It’s due next year, but I want it to be perfect, you know?”

“I do, I do,” he agreed, nodding. “I hope you’re taking some time off, though, as well. Don’t let this paper take up your whole life; you should be out, appreciating everything this life has to give you. Don’t get stuck in the past.”

You looked at the table, letting his words soak in. It was like he had looked right through you; for the past month or so, you’ve been deep in your studies. You had friends, sure, but you hardly saw them. And you’d given up on dating until after you finished college, anyways. But maybe Sonny was on to something. You should seize the day, capture every moment in memories.

“Would you like to get dinner with me, Sonny?” you asked, trying to sound as confident as possible.

It was his turn to look surprised. “Oh, uh…sorry, you caught me off guard. In all my years, no one has ever asked me out; it’s usually the other way around.”

You chuckled. “You’re not much older than me,” you joked, and he smiled. “Maybe it’s time for something new. For both of us…that is, if you want?”

“I’d love to go to dinner with you,” he said, and your heart soared.

When it was getting close to 3, you bade him goodbye, and he told you he would be eagerly awaiting your dinner date. You felt your face heat at the words, and you swore your face never cooled off for the rest of the day.

*********************

That date with Doctor Carisi turned out to be the best decision of your life. You both felt the spark between you, and you said yes to a second date before he even finished asking. Now, it’s been ten months of loving bliss between you. You completed your thesis, got your doctorate, and Sonny couldn’t be more proud of you. And you learned that while he was a historian, he was also a detective. He said he wanted to help people now, by giving them both access to history material, and by putting absolute monsters away.

But there were little things with him, quirks, really. Though you’ve been to his place, and he yours, he never made a move to get you into bed. Sure, you’ve kissed—and sometimes this escalated to a full-blown make out session—but he didn’t seem interested in sex.

He also didn’t seem interested in moving in together…or a future at all, really. Whenever you tried to bring it up, he would just nod along with you, agreeing to whatever you said and adding on a lot of “one day’s”.

He had no family for you to meet, and yours didn’t live close. You noticed he also didn’t eat or drink much; he loved to make you dinner, and he would say that he snacked while cooking. And then, about once a month, he’d leave for 3-4 days, claiming he wanted to be alone to work on the manuscript.

You gave him as much space as he asked for, and though you still loved him dearly, you were starting to wonder if there was something wrong with you…or if it was just something he was having issues with.

“Hey Sonny?” you asked one day while snuggling on the couch at your place. “Are we okay?”

He glanced down at you. “As far as I know, yes? Why, something on your mind?”

“Well…I was just thinking about how we’ve been together almost a year and we still haven’t moved in together,” you tried.

He looked to the ceiling as he thought. “Wow, I guess it really has been that long now, hasn’t it? I feel like I just met you yesterday.”

“So, are we not connecting on a deeper level, then?” You sat up, turning to look at him.

His bright blue eyes found yours, and his expression softened. “That’s not what I meant; I’m sorry it came out like that. Time just…it moves so quickly is all. Look, I love you, I just—I don’t think I’m quite ready to make that jump yet. I’m sorry; I know this must be frustrating, but I promise you one day, I’ll…I’ll be ready.”

You nodded. “I love you too, I just….”

“What is it? You can tell me—”

“Why won’t you sleep with me?” you asked softly. His eyes widened, and you quickly added, “are—are you ace? It’s fine if you are, I understand, but I just…I feel like it’s something wrong with me, and I—”

He cupped your face in his hands, looking deeply in your eyes. “No, it’s nothing wrong with you, I promise. I’m just…I’m not ready—”

“I have urges, Sonny. And I love you, want to wait for you. But it’s been almost a year. I—I don’t believe a healthy relationship is built on sex, but well, it’d be nice to have every once in a while….”

He sighed, releasing your face. “It’s not that I don’t want to, because I do. I just want to be absolutely sure I’m ready. Call it shyness, or embarrassment, whatever you want. But I want to make sure that—that you’re the one for me, first, okay?”

You opened your mouth to respond when his phone rang. He gave you an apologetic look before answering with his stiff, “Carisi.” He mostly listened, making little noises of affirmation, before hanging up.

“I’m so, so sorry, doll. But the department needs me. I swear we’ll talk about this once I’m home, okay?” he promised, getting to his feet.

He grabbed his jacket, heading for the front door. “Sonny wait,” you called, and he stopped, looking back at you. You hurried over to him, looking up into those beautiful blues. “Be careful.”

He smiled softly. “I will be; promise.” He gave you a kiss, and then he was gone.

 ********************

You didn’t hear from Sonny again until the next morning, when he showed up on your front door, breakfast in hand. He apologized for leaving you last night during that important talk, but you brushed it off, telling him it was fine.

“That’s not all I have to apologize for,” he said, looking anywhere but at you. “I’m…going undercover. I’ll be gone for three months.”

Your face fell, and you put your fingers under his chin, tilting his face until he looked at you. “Three months?” you breathed.

“I’m sorry; I tried to decline, but the Lieutenant gave her orders. I leave in an hour.”

“Three months…” you said again, worry blossoming in your chest. This was the longest he’d be gone since you started dating.

He nodded. “I’ll text or call when I can, but don’t expect it; it may be too dangerous.”

You’d heard enough; you lifted onto your tiptoes, kissing him desperately. Your hands went to his hair, and you pulled him close, all your fear and trepidation in the kiss. He froze for only a moment before he was kissing you back, hands on your hips. He clutched you tightly enough that you gasped in pain, and he pulled away, releasing you.

“I’m sorry. I love you,” he muttered before turning to leave, but you had a suspicion that he wasn’t apologizing for leaving.