#love me some jasmine and vanilla

[prince-liest]

I recently got very into perfumes after realizing that the V&R Flowerbomb I've been wearing for like 6+ years has become very grating to my nose over time and I needed to explore other scents, and it's absolutely wild how acute the realization that simply Walking Around While Smelling Nice improves my day so immensely is.

#personal #also damn I learned that Flowerbomb is a v strong perfume #one spray of that stuff is like 2-3 of my current go-to (which is itself not considered a “weak” perfume) #anyway I'm really enjoying Burberry Her Elixir atm #smells like a strawberry milkshake but in a way that doesn't seem inappropriate for a 27yo #I also got YSL Black Opium Over Red for going out #and MJ Daisy Eau So Intense for lighter-scent days #anyway the common thread for all of them (even Flowerbomb) is jasmine and vanilla #love me some jasmine and vanilla #sorry y'all who are here for fandom sometimes I just desperately want to talk about perfume for a bit

[luveline]

You mentioned in one post that bombshell!reader was furious with the team for not helping Reid with his addiction (as she should be)…. Would you maybe write about her helping him thru withdrawal or thru the cravings that follow? Maybe subtly at first, then just making sure he knew he wasn’t alone? Just some tender moments where Spencer starts to realize she actually cares about him, even if he doesn’t believe her flirting yet.

-🌕

I love every single thing you write, even for fandoms I’m not even in. You’re amazing!!

thank you for requesting my sweetheart!!! I really hope this is what you wanted, love you <3 fem!reader

cw past drug abuse

“Hi, Spencer Reid.” 

You perch on the edge of his desk with no further introduction. You’ve changed perfumes, to his immediate recognition, the rich smell of your usual parfum swapped for a less consuming scent. He detects apple blossom, and rose, the smallest hint of jasmine, a contrast to your usual vanilla and peony. The human brain can remember 50,000 scents, and Spencer can remember all of yours. Or, he could. 

“You’re not saying hi anymore?” 

“Hi, Y/N.” 

“Hi. It’s nice to see you.” You put your hand on his. Spencer isn’t sure you’ve ever touched his hand before, he’s never really let you, but he doesn’t move away. A huge winding of tension between his shoulders begins to unspool. “It’s really nice to see you, babe. I’ve missed you tons and tons.” 

He looks up tentatively. “You have?” 

“I have. I haven’t really been invited, today. I’m just here to see you.” 

“Why?” Spencer asks. 

You tighten your fingers on his hand. “Missed you. Thought maybe we should, like…” And that’s unusual, for you to use filler words, Spencer doesn’t know what to think of it. “Well, I have something to say to you, and it’s going to either sound reassuring or ridiculous.” 

“Okay.” 

You give him a withering look. “Don’t make it any easier for me.” 

He laughs. The sound alone fosters your smile. “Sorry,” he says softly, “I doubt it’ll be ridiculous.” 

“Spencer Reid, we are friends. We are. But we never do anything outside of work, so I was thinking you could come over tonight and we’d make dinner and watch TV and stuff.” 

“And stuff.” 

“I’m a bit nervous,” you confess, looking down at your lap, then quickly back up into his face, “I’m worried you won’t want to.” 

You’re kind to avoid saying what he’s sure you’re thinking; you’re worried he won’t want to spend the night with you, and instead will look down the long barrel of a small needle. Or, he thinks that’s what you’re thinking. He does it to everyone. 

“What do you want to make for dinner?” he asks. 

“What are you enjoying lately?” 

“I… I don’t know. I’m not really eating.”

“Cereal?” 

“Yes,” he laughs. “Lots of cereal.” 

You tap the wheel of his chair with your heel. You’re dressed as though you aren’t working, wearing a sweet dark dress with a starched collar and baby sleeves, stockings, and a necklace at your neck that glows with a small white crystal. You look amazing. It never makes any sense to Spencer, why you’d taken an interest in him, and why you bother now. He knows he’s hard to care for. He knows he’s making it worse. 

You look up and down his face. You must see the purple half circles beneath his eyes, the crack at the corner of his mouth, the cut he can’t stop picking on his cheek. Every time it scabs, he opens it again. One second he’s sitting there and the next he’s got blood under his fingernail. 

“Hug?” you ask hopefully. 

He goes to stand. You move in too fast and wrap your arms around him, leg slotting between his, leaning over his shoulders with a distinct sense of protectiveness. You squeeze him, a little sigh escaping you that sounds loud so close to his ear. 

“How has it been this week?” you ask quietly. 

“It’s fine.” He cups your back in his arm carefully. The other wraps tight around the small of it. He soaks you up, scared you’re gonna pull away any second. 

“How are you feeling about it? Do you need any extra help?” 

He cringes. “No,” he says. “It’s really fine.” 

“When you texted me, about the cravings? What are they like today?” 

He wishes he could breathe in the smell of your perfume and your skin and tell you they’re all better now. It would make sense; there isn’t much in his life that hasn’t been made better by your attention. He’d struggle to do this without you. You’re his only friend who actually cared enough to say the problem out loud, but you’re just a woman, you can’t work the sort of magic necessary to kick this for him. 

“Spencer?” You pull away, nudging his cheek with the back of your finger. 

“They’re okay. I’m not gonna do anything.” 

“Good, honey. I’m proud of you. I know how hard this is.” 

He bites the inside of his lip, surprised at your caring. He shouldn’t be.

“What are you two whispering about?”

You and Spencer have different reactions to Emily’s sudden question. He flinches like he’s been caught with his hand in the cookie jar and you, still vaguely pissed with everyone for not telling you Spencer was struggling and not afraid to show it, keep your eyes trained on his face. 

“Nothing,” Spencer says. 

You turn to her with a small smile. You still like her, Spencer knows. Secretly, he’s pleased you’re angry for him. It’s nice to have someone so obviously on his side. “We’re just deciding what to get for dinner.” 

“Oh, nice. Date night?” she teases. 

You press your cheek to his forehead. “Date night,” you agree, your hand unmissable where it bunches in his sweater near his heart. 

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid scenario #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction

[seattlesellie]

୨⎯ a helping hand ⎯୧

pairing: loser!ellie williams x fem!reader x dina nolastname synopsis: ellie's too shy and too nervous to take it all the way with you, and thank god dina's right by her side. warnings: weed, smut, mdni, soft dom!dina, awkward top!ellie, sub!reader, oral (r receiving), fingering (r receiving) authors note: this is based off of a request i got but accidentally deleted since i'm a little braindead ˚ ༘♡ ✧༺♡༻∞

It was thick, and and hazy, and the pungent smoke hung lazily in the air. The scent was… captivating. It wasn’t bad — no, it was a tad skunky and earthy, citrusy. Piney too, and a little bit of spice. 

Something that smelled sickly sweet wafted through the air. It was almost intoxicating— The way her Jasmine and Vanilla fragrance mixed with the musk and and the resin. 

Dina took the skinny spliff in between her fingers. 

Inhale. 

Exhale. 

Silence. 

Ellie’s eyes took a on a reddish hue. They were glossy, and bloodshot. She wore this languid, almost dreamy expression on her face. It rendered a slight droop to her eyelids and a gentle, unfocused gaze. She always got like this. 

She was not quiet— no, she was relaxed, calm. Shoulders dropped down, she wasn't hunching, she was perfectly serene, slightly manspreading on the velvety, emerald green colored couch. A piece of lint landed on her faded beige khaki’s, and she flicked it away gently. 

Everything seemed to move so slow. 

“Are you gonna let go of that blunt, D?” you questioned, lazily grasping and squeezing Ellie’s light blue stress ball in your palms. You caught her playing with that when she kissed you, once — Just a mere week ago. 

₊˚⊹♡

“Are you playing with your fidget while we’re making out?” Your voice was breathy and faint, just above a whisper. You could taste her on your tongue, bordering going on cotton mouthed. 

“No — no, I’m — It’s…” she stammered, and let the ball fly out of her hand and land on the concrete floor. 

An awkward silence. 

“You make me nervous” 

₊˚⊹♡

“It’s not a blunt, babe, It’s a spliff.” Dina took another drag, and handed it to you. 

“Whatever.” you shrugged. 

It caressed down your throat, a slight burn tingled in its wake.

Ellie always loved the way you smoked. A well manicured hand squeezing the bud between your fingers, the way your eyes were forced completely shut when you took a hit, the way your eyelashes fluttered while you exhaled. In all honestly, Ellie just thought you were very pretty. It was not the reason why she dated you; you were funny, and smart, and sweet — and the way you laughed made her stomach tie in knots and her heart feel like it was trying to leap out of her chest and leave her still as a corpse. 

But that “pretty” part, made her very, very nervous. 

She shifted on the couch, lifting her legs up to rest her chin on top of them. Ellie couldn't help but look, examine the way your chest heaved up and down, with her gaze fixed on you. She had a bit of a… staring problem. You saw her gaze from the corner of your eye, and smirked. 

“Can you two stop with your little sex games?” Dina's voice pierced through, breaking Ellie’s trance. 

“Sex games?” you probed, followed by a small huff. This wasn't a sex game. No, no... this was — purely innocent. Just two gals, who happen to be fresh as a daisy lovers, staring at each other while their best friend is in the same room.

“Ellie’s staring at you like she wants to fuck. I’m not a ghost — I’m here too, hello?” She waved her hand from side to side. You could tell she’s here too, you’d be lying if you said nothing in this living room screamed “Dina’s house!”. A silver menorah that’s been laying on the kitchen counter since Hanukkah, with a layer of fine dust collecting on top of the highest branch, a white crocheted mandala hanging slightly loose over the flat TV, bright colored crystals, and some dark ones too — splattered all over the antique mahogany table. Yes, Dina was definitely still there. 

But still, so was Ellie. And being around Ellie… made you want to… Well — Sex games? Is that how Dina put it? 

“We’re not doing anything” Ellie murmured, reaching over to take the spliff out of your hand. Her touch lingered a tad too long, lengthy finger softly caressing yours. Maybe you were? 

“You can go to the bathroom if you want. I wont peep” Dina suggested with a grin. That little devil. 

Ellie almost choked as she exhaled, You chose to ignore. 

“Promise?” You asked. 

“Swear.” 

Ellie huffed, Yeah right. 

“Gimme” Dina whined, signaling Ellie to pass her the half finished spliff. 

“I’m not done” Ellie’s defended, and took another hit. Her eyebrows were hunched together, and a small line had formed, creasing right between them. God, did she look pretty too. 

“Give it, bitch” Dina moaned, and abruptly took the spliff out of Ellie’s wet mouth, Ellie groaning in response. 

Dina rolled it between her fingers, and gave it a small squeeze. 

“Ew! You fucking drooled over it!” 

“Fuck you man” Ellie hissed, bumping lightly into Dina’s shoulder. 

“But seriously… Where’s like—“ Dina inhaled, blowing the smoke into Ellie’s face. 

“Dude—“ Ellie huffed, waving her hand in the air as if attempting to disperse the thick smoke that enveloped them. 

“Where’s the wildest place you had sex?” Dina questioned, as she smushed the spliff on the ashtray, then casually picked off some leftover tobacco from the table, absentmindedly wiping it on the red ceramic surface.

Ellie felt her cheeks turn an adorable shade of light pink. She was a blusher, you soon came to realize. 

The sex thing... that was an issue — Well, it wasn’t necessary an “issue” but it was… a thing. 

You and Ellie hadn’t had sex yet. ₊˚⊹♡

two full months of dating, resulting only in heated make out sessions. Sure, Ellie played with your tits, breathy and panting, and you almost came when she made you jump up and down her creamy thigh, crossfaded and washed by a sudden burst of extreme boldness, but that was that. When you lifted your skirt up to let her see what was underneath (that day, was a mint green colored lace thong) she hastily pulled it down, followed by a whispered “m’sorry”, and when you pouted, nauseous and incredibly embarrassed, she calmed you down with soft delicate butterfly kisses on your nose and on your forehead. 

“Wanna take it slow” she mumbled, her cheeks turning a rosy pink, lips curling down to a pout — almost matching yours. 

Maybe she didn’t really like you like that, you wondered, hugging your pillow, hot tears smearing all over the bedsheet. Maybe you weren’t attractive enough, perhaps she saw you more as a friend… A friend she liked to kiss and only kiss, a friend who made her stomach flip and her mind race, but still, only a friend. 

If you knew that Ellie spent the entire night after that glorious encounter with her purple vibrator in between her legs and a pair of your panties stuffed inside her mouth, perhaps you wouldn’t have cried. Perhaps… you wouldn’t have been embarrassed. Thing is, you didn’t know. So you didn’t kiss her hungrily after that, and you didn’t sit on her lap just to watch her get flustered like you always used used to. You kept your distance, respected her boundaries, and pretended to let it go. Small pecks, hand holding, and one kiss on the pulse of her neck — That’s how it went. 

₊˚⊹♡

You crossed your arms, and fixed your gaze on the yellow colored wall behind Dina. 

“We made out in Jesse’s bathroom” Ellie said quietly. That you did, right after Jesse’s birthday party, you needed to “Clean the bathroom” because “A girl threw up and made a mess”

Dina rolled her eyes, and turned to face her. 

“I asked about sex” 

“Mhm” Ellie hummed, feeling her toes curl inside her Chuck’s. She wasn’t going to get this. 

“Don’t know why you need to know so bad” 

“I'm just... curious," Dina stated, her smirk growing wider as she looked in your direction.

“You two seem like freaks.”

Ellie bit her lip so hard it almost bled. She couldn’t look at you, too embarrassed to see the look on your face, so she looked at the ashtray, examining its sleek cover. Would you pout again? just like you did when she pulled your skirt down? will you look angry? sad? disappointed? 

��Cmon” Dina grumbled. 

“I wont judge —“

She glanced at you.

“Promise.” 

You looked at her like you wanted to shut her lips tightly together with a piece of tape. 

“It’s been kinda dry for me and I’m trying to live vicariously through my best fr—“ 

“We haven’t had sex yet.” Ellie blurted. 

The room fell silent. 

Ellie’s eyes were glued to the table. 

Why the fuck… would she say that? 

Dina cleared her throat, her gaze fixed firmly upon you. Her lips hinted at a grin, but she suppressed it, pressing them together into a straight line.

“Oh” Dina quietly said. Noted. 

Ellie shifted on the couch, and mumbled something you couldn’t hear under her breath. Could have been a “so nosy” or a “fuck off”, but alas, it was barely above a whisper. 

“Happy?” she murmured. 

“Just…” 

Dina flipped her hair to the side, brushing her fingers through the thick, black strands. If you sat any closer, you would have been able to smell her pistachio-almond shampoo. 

“Surprised” 

“Pass me the weed? I wanna roll another one” Ellie groaned. 

“I dont have any” 

Ellie ts’kd, attempting to divert the conversation everywhere but towards what had just happened. Avoid, avoid, avoid. 

You sat quietly, manipulating the stress ball, squeezing it so hard your knuckles almost strained. 

It’s not like Dina didn’t know everything about you, because she did. It wasn’t confessing to some clueless stranger, this was Dina. And still, it hurt. You knew she wouldn’t judge you, never. But you — you would judge you. And that was worse. And now, this wasn’t an unspoken thing anymore. It was out there, waiting to be pounced on. 

Maybe… maybe you needed that. 

“Fuck” Ellie huffed. 

The room fell silent again. It wasn’t the smoke that made the air feel thick anymore. 

“Can I ask…” 

Dina turned her body to squarely face Ellie. 

“Why?” 

“No," Ellie stated bluntly, her voice tinged with raspiness and hoarseness. 

“Was it like this with Cat too?” Dina asked. She always knew how to hit the fucking jackpot. Cat. 

“No, t’wasn’t” Ellie rolled her eyes. 

“Can you let it go?” 

This was a conversation about you, that you didn’t even participate in. Until you did, because you truly couldn’t help yourself. Was it you? Did Ellie just… Did Ellie just like Cat better? 

“Is it me?” Your voice was shaky, soft and quiet. 

She wanted to say no, Wanted to ask Dina to just let it fucking go. 

It was silent for a moment again, till it wasn’t. 

Ellie took a deep breath, slid off the couch slightly as the need to hide under it slowly overtook her. She crossed her arms.

"Yes"

You felt something turning in the pits of your stomach. 

“Oh” you whispered, god, that was painful. It was you. 

Dina’s mouth fell agape. 

“No— not like that” Ellie retreated. 

“No it’s… I get it. S’fine” 

There was nothing Ellie needed more than a punch in the gut to knock her out and a fat blunt intertwined between her fingers. 

“You don’t get it though” 

“Think I’m gonna…” You hastily started to look for everything you needed. Sunglasses, purse, keychain. You weren’t doing this. 

“Gonna go” 

“Hear her out, babe… Sit” Dina calmly suggested. It was as if she knew exactly what Ellie had in mind. It was you, but not like that. How could it ever be like that? 

“Just… Fuck” Ellie mumbled. 

“Cat — she didn’t… Can you sit down?” 

You stared at the floor. Maybe you should sit down.

“Okay how do I—“ Ellie began, scratching her head. 

“How do I explain this?” She looked at Dina. Yes, Dina knew. 

“Calmly, and with reason.” She squeezed Ellie’s bicep, followed up with a small, breathy “Fuck you” from Ellie. 

“Cat didn’t make me nervous like you fucking do, man— She didn’t make me rethink every single step I took and kissing her— Fuck” 

Silence again. 

“Kissing her didn’t make me feel like my legs were fucking wobbly or whatever.” 

“I dont wanna disappoint you.” The way it came out of her mouth, so real, and so raw… you looked… wide eyed. 

“Ellie…” you whispered. 

“Why would you disappoint me?” Gosh. Give her a little squeeze! 

“Because what if I don’t fucking know how— What if you don’t like the shit I do and what if you think I fucking suck and leave me and—“ 

“Can I say something?” Dina interrupted. 

“No, Dina” Ellie nudged her. 

“Ellie shut up, you’re rambling and it’s probably turning her off more th—“ 

“S’not turning me off” It was your turn to interrupt now. "You don't know how?" the brunette asked Ellie, with a teasing smile. Oh, she was making fun of her. Ellie barely picked up on that, too frustrated by her own thoughts running circles inside her foggy brain.

"I do know how— Just... fuck, Dina, just let it fucking go" 

“I can help.” Is all she said. Quiet, but confident. She could help.

“What?” you were stunned. Maybe she had a printed guide? A 101 on lesbian sex? 

Dina rolled her eyes and flashed her pearly whites. 

“Remember that time… when you slept over?” She had to stop herself from grinning again. Her tongue was bumping her cheek, like a naughty little chipmunk. 

“What time?” As if there weren’t dozens of those times. 

“That… Time” Dina tilted her head slightly.

“Don’t know what time youre—“ you rambled, soon to be cut off.

“Ellie—“ Dina turned around to face her, yet again. 

“I fingerblasted your girl” 

“What the f—“ Ellie blurted, and her mouth fell wide open. 

“Dina!” you yelled. 

“I’m just—“ She lifted her hands up in defense. 

“I wanna help because it clearly felt good and—“ 

“Are you on fucking drugs?!” Ellie blurted, and immediately stood up. 

“I mean we fucking smoked, Ellie” 

It was almost comical — how fast paced all of this… situation was.

The room felt silent again. How many more times could this happen? awkward silences, questioning looks. 

“I’m saying I wanna help you, El” 

“Let me show you” Dina’s voice was quiet. Genuine. Begging… almost? 

Ellie stared at the floor. And then at you — and then at the floor again. She could feel her hands grow clammy, and a droplet of sweat forming and flowing down her neck. Show her? why didn’t that make her feel nauseous? Why did she feel it in her fucking crotch?

"What the fuck does that mean?" Ellie shook her head.

“Only if it’s okay with you” Dina murmured softly, and gave you a warm, calming look. Comfort — Dina. 

“And with you.” She took Ellie’s trembling hand and gave it a small squeeze.

"I can show you just what I did." 

Ellie dropped her ass on the couch, and fuck — if her legs didn’t feel so fucking wobbly again maybe she would have stayed standing up. But she sat, her legs slightly parting. 

“Okay?” Dina quipped. 

Ellie gulped.

“I won’t steal her from you… I’ll be your… tutor?” Dina questioned, a sly smirk forming on her lips.

“Dina” You and Ellie said in unison. Ellie glanced at you. She felt ashamed, she felt sweaty, sickly, and too fucking turned on to move a muscle. 

“Let me take care of this” She sounded genuine. Like she truly wanted to help. No grin, no smirk, no attitude, just long eyelashes batting softly as the sun sank lower in the west.

“Okay?” she quipped softly.

“Okay”

Dina smiled so wide she had to bite her entire cheek to stop herself from fully crumpling down on the floor. 

You glanced at Ellie, then Ellie glanced at you. She still couldn’t… fully look, But this was something. A small agreement. 

“C’mere” Dina patted her thigh softly. 

It took you a moment, but you took up on her invitation. Hesitantly, you crawled slowly towards her. When you lifted yourself up in order to sit on her bare thigh, her purple thin linen shorts ending right where your ass met her leg, Ellie felt it in her guts. Her face twitched, maybe in jealousy, perhaps in confusion, but none of it mattered, since her clit throbbed inside her boxers. She didn’t know what was more painful, seeing you — sitting directly on your best friends thigh, getting felt up by someone else, or the aching of her own cunt.

“And I won’t kiss her if you don’t… want me too. Just show you, okay?” Dina whispered. Always so fucking attentive. 

“Mhm” Ellie hummed, as her mouth felt too dry to form any real, clear sentences. It was as if time stood completely still. She could stop this, she could. She doesn’t want to.

Meanwhile, you, you were trembling all over. It was almost too much — and nothing even happened yet. Dina's thighs were soft, and her scent tickled your nostrils. Vanilla, jasmine, almonds, and a hint weed. Her chest was firm as it brushed your back, two soft mounds caressing it. She let out a long breath that lingered on your neck, you hummed softly.

“Ellie… come closer” she whispered.

“Get on the floor… right between my thighs, okay?” It was the way she had said it, that got you. The way it came out to soft, so delicate, as if she was trying to comfort her, make her feel safe.

Ellie slowly crawled right where she needed her.

Dina bunched your skirt up just a tad, revealing a little bit of your upper thigh to Ellie. She sat directly in front, almost as if she was watching a movie, the bystander that she was. Her chest rose up and down. She’s never even seen that part of you yet. 

“This okay?” Dina whispered in your ear, her saccharine voice making your entire body shudder in response. 

A barely audible "Yeah..." slipped past your lips, barely more than a whisper, breathy and faint.

“Ellie?” Dina questioned, adverting her look to face the girl. 

“Have you seen it yet?” 

“N… no” she huffed. Her clammy hand formed in a fist, short nails digging crescent little moons on her palms. She hasn’t seen it. Of course she hasn’t. She’s barely seen anything.

“It’s so pretty” Dina teased, bumping her nose into the crook of your neck.

“She has a really pretty one” she whispered, and began slowly pecking your shoulders. 

“You gotta make sure you treat her good.” kiss. “Make sure she’s wet for you” kiss.

Ellie was breathing like she had run a marathon in the Sahara desert for 18 kilometers.

“Do you wanna maybe… Move her panties to the side?” 

Ellie gulped, you almost heard the fat glob of saliva slip down her throat. her mind almost went entirely blank. This could not, under any circumstances, possibly be real.

Another moment of silence. 

“No?” Dina questioned, running her fingernails down your thighs. She pinched one of them, pulling the fat between her fingers, making you jolt in her lap. 

“Yes” Ellie groaned. 

“Fuck I wanna—“ Fast paced, and needy. Slurring her words and trying to stop herself from fainting on the floor.

She jolted forward, practically leaping towards you.

“Do it…” Dina teased. 

Ellie’s hands were shaky, and her movements were agonizingly slow. As she brought her hand up your thigh, slightly tugging on your skirt, playing with the hem of it, you felt your mind melting completely off. You could only whimper in response. 

With an unsteady pull, your skirt was down. It stood pretty right above your feet.

“God” Ellie groaned at the sight. All she wanted to do, was lay her head on top of Dina’s thighs, as if they were two soft cushions, and stare till her mind completely liquefied.

“Did you pick them just for her?” Dina teased, taking both of your hands in her palms. You hummed in response.

“She’s such a sweet girl, isn’t she?” she looked towards Ellie. Ellie could barely make eye contact with Dina, let alone with you.

All she could do is moan softly in response.

“You can do it, El”

“F—ffuck off” she hissed.

She slowly moved the fabric to the side, and her eyes almost closed entirely shut when she unraveled your drooling, messy cunt. She could see the big wet spot on your panties, and all she wanted to do was suck the juices completely dry, clean them with her tongue until all that was left on the soft cotton thong was her own saliva. she wanted to digest you whole, taste the sweetness running down her throat, but all she could fucking do was pull them to the side, and let out an incredibly harsh breath— bordering on a grunt, almost a whimper. 

“Isn’t it so fucking pretty?” Dina cood, patting your pussy lips softly, each little pat making you buck your hips forward. She played with the sticky strings of slick that hung loose in the air.

Ellie ran her fingers through them, as if they were the strings of her guitar.

You — poor you, didn't even know where to look. 

All Ellie could do was hum, and stare like a tortured, bordering on perverted soul.

“Tell her” Dina commanded. 

“Tell her how pretty you think it is” she parted your puffy lips slightly, revealing the beautiful pearl that resided inside. The cool air, mixed with Ellie’s breath, so so close to where you needed her, made you shiver.

You thought you could come with just her looking into you, examining you as if you were some sort of art work, the most beautiful one she’s ever seen, with details carved by the Gods themselves, a pretty little button, a hole that clenched in and out— inviting her in, and lips like gentle curtains, soft and ethereal.

“Its so… fuck” She huffed. She could feel her mouth watering, the soft muscle hiding inside slowly grazing the top of her mouth. 

“So pretty” 

Before you could move and react to Ellie’s praise, Dina plunged a finger directly inside your greedy hole. Small, delicate, sheer little bubbles made perfectly round of your own juices formed on the tiny tip of her middle finger. 

“Ow fuck!”

Dina, quickly as ever, smeared them all over Ellie’s plump lips. 

Ellie fucking whimpered, and babbled about how good it tasted, and almost instinctively licked all of the gathered slickness that formed on her mouth. 

“Thats a good girl” Dina smirked, patting her fingers on Ellie's left cheek. 

“Dont fucking good girl me” Ellie hissed, almost falling to her knees when she heard the needy, long, high pitched moan that escaped your lips when Dina caressed your cunt again. 

“I see how it is” Dina nodded, grinning like the little minx that she is. 

“Tell her” She whispered. 

“Tell her how good she’s being for you then” 

Ellie gave Dina a questioning look, and stared at your hazed expression. You were wheezing, it was all so fucking much. Dina’s finger slipping in and out, Ellie staring and panting like a cat in heat, and the way Dina started slowly but surely, grinding your hips back and forth to meet Ellie’s hungry, desperate gaze was making you see a million galaxies every time you dared to close your eyes shut. 

“You’re being so good” Ellie whispered. 

“So good” she repeated. She was telling it to herself, now. 

Dina’s middle finger began forming slow circles on your clit, making you whimper out quiet sobs into her neck. 

“Look at her… I think she likes the circles”

She fastened her pace, making you cry softly.

“Tell her you like them”

“I li— I like the circles… God— yesss” you hiccuped, bucking your hips faster and harder towards Ellie’s face.

The way she looked at you, like she was absolutely ravenous, was inexplainable.

Ellie sat on her knees, legs slightly parted, both of her hands laying on the plush of your thighs. Forcefully, she parted them further apart.

She was utterly hypnotized by the way Dinas fingers pinched your swollen clit between her fingers, tugging at the little button. Every time she gave it a little slap, and stopped those agonizingly slow circles she was forming, almost as if she was creating something out of clay — Ellie noticed how your eyes completely shut, she noticed the juice leaking from your hole directly into your ass, making Dina’s thighs glimmer as the slick created a small, sheer puddle on her thighs. 

Ellie had to stop herself from taking her pants off and grinding on the fucking floor. 

“You like that baby?” Dina cood, plunging two fingers inside of your hole, pumping them in and out slowly. She made sure she was putting on a show for Ellie. 

“M’— oh fuckfuck” you babbled, feeling it jolt inside of your stomach. 

“You ready? Ellie? Touch her fucking clit” 

“I c—“ Ellie panted pathetically. 

“Make her come, c’mon, make her fucking come” Dinas voice was breathless and desperate. Somehow, she managed to keep it stern. She was in charge, for now.

Ellie’s fingers met your cunt, pinching your puffy outer lips together, her gaze fixed directly upon it, marveling in how louder you got when it was her who had her fingers caressing you. Dina made you feel good, sure, but it was Ellie who made the coil in your stomach tighten. It was her you craved. 

You needed her. 

“El—Mph— Ellie” You cried, as you felt her movements grow faster and faster. She wanted to drown herself in it, at last — her mouth was on you. She gave no warning, was she truly the student here? 

It was fervent, and warm, and the tight, pink muscle caressed you everywhere, from your clit, and then lapping up the juices gathering in your entrance, it all happened too fast. 

The thing is, she couldn’t help it anymore. 

“Put your—“ Dina breathlessly mumbled. 

“Put your finger inside when you eat her out” 

Her ears perked up, and she obliged. Ellie pumped them in and out, so long they almost grazed your cervix, over that one sweet spongey spot inside, rendering you almost unconscious. 

“Fuckkk” Ellie hissed, as she hungrily kissed your clit, sucking the sensitive little button in between her lips. 

“I wanna fucking—“ Ellie panted 

“Dont you dare keep your mouth off of her, Ellie —"

"You like when she does that?" Dina mumbled, gripping your tit with her left hand, her right one opening your puffy lips together to let Ellie's fingers slip inside easier, quickly pumping in and out like she was trying to win a race.

"I love it— oh god" you babbled. You were almost riding Ellie's entire face, your thighs clenching around her.

"Make her cum Ellie" Dina tugged the taller girls hair.

Oh, she fucking did. 

#ellie williams x reader #ellie williams #ellie x reader #ellie x reader x dina #ellie tlou2 #ellie williams smut #ellie williams fanfiction #ellie williams x you #the last of us #wlw #lesbian

[rebelliousstories]

Jasmines and Vanilla

Relationship: Spencer Reid x Reader

Fandom: Criminal Minds

Request: No

Warnings: Fluff

Word Count: 2,869

Main Masterlist: Here

Criminal Minds Masterlist: Here

Summary: A certain smell catches Reid’s attention in the bullpen.

American poet Diane Ackerman once said, “Nothing is more memorable than a smell. One scent can be unexpected, momentary and fleeting, yet conjure up a childhood summer beside a lake in the mountains.”

There was absolutely nothing remarkable about today. It was a paperwork day, which meant staying in the office. No flying on the jet to go stop an unsub in some other part of the country, or hopping in their government issued SUVs to find them on their home turf. The whole BAU team was stuck in the office and it was glorious. Having just come home from a case the day prior; everyone was excited about having a paperwork day to relax.

“Ugh, don’t get me wrong, I love these days where were not jet-setting across the country. But why do they always feel like they pass by slower than when we are going all over on the governments dime to stop bad guys?” The bored voice of Emily Prentiss called throughout the bullpen.

“An increased dopamine rush to your brain increases your internal perception of time. But dopamine and adrenaline cause such similar reactions inside your brain, it has the same effect leading to you feeling like time passes much faster when we’re in the field and-” Spencer was quickly cut off by the aforementioned agent.

“I really should know better than to ask after all these years.” Reid cast his eyes back down to his paperwork and felt embarrassment creep up his neck. In all honesty, he should be used to that after all these years but it still never got any easier to have someone shut him down. Turning back to his paperwork, he ignored the scoffed chuckle from JJ and tried to recenter himself.

There was no unusual sounds from the area heard for a while after that. Or maybe there was, but Spencer chose to bury himself in his work so that he would be less likely to go on an embarrassing factual rant. He did not know how long he kept his nose buried in the case files on his desk, but he knew what drew them out of it. A collective confused noise from the women around him, and perfume.

It was unlike anything he had smelled around the office, and it caused his head to perk up. In walked a woman around his age, yet much smaller than him, even with the heels she had worn. Her hair was curled up and out of her face, reminding him of the victory rolls worn during World War II by the working women of the era. In fact, her entire look reminded him of that era. She wore a type of secretary’s uniform from the era, had on red lipstick that complemented her features nicely and a winged eyeliner that drew attention to them.

A visitor’s pass dangled from on of the lapels. She was obviously here on purpose, but for what purpose, no one knew. But what drew him in, was that smell; the smell of her perfume. It was intoxicating to him. How he was this way about a woman he had never met before, let alone knew the name of? All he knew was that she had enraptured his senses in less than a minute, fifty-six seconds to be exact.

Heels clicked into the bullpen, and a tidal wave of color followed. It was almost comical seeing Penelope standing next to Derek, who had opted for all black for his relaxing day in his office. The clicking stopped shortly after the pair locked their eyes on to the new woman out in the middle of the floor.

“Who is that?” Garcia squeaked out, unable to pull her eyes from the mystery woman. Morgan’s eyes were glued to the same place, but he went to go introduce himself to her.

“Haven’t got a clue, baby girl. One sec.” He made his way down the stairs to where everyone was confused. But before he made it to her, Derek’s eyes caught on to something even more interesting than the visitor. It was the look on the resident genius’ face. With a smirk, he strutted to where the other man sat and placed his hand on his shoulder. Spencer jumped in his seat and looked to who had startled him out of his own thoughts.

“You should go introduce yourself, pretty boy. She looks a little lost.” The younger man pursed his lips and shook his head in defeat.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” While Spencer tried to turn back to the case files, his eyes kept flickering up to the young woman.

“Well, I think I’m gonna go introduce myself to her then.” And with that, Reid was forced to watch the spectacle of the enigma that was Derek Morgan in action.

“Hello, miss. Is there something I can help you with?” He stuck out his hand and waited for her to notice him. She looked down at his hand and offered a wave instead of reaching for it.

“Hi. I’m looking for Aaron Hotchner. Do you happen to know where he could be?” Her voice flowed like honey and Spencer was in heaven. He really needed to get a grip on his senses.

“Um, yes. I do. He’s up there, but you know Dr. Reid here could show where he is exactly. I’m running late for a meeting but I’ll be around if you need anything else.” Said Dr. Reid was starting to panic. Morgan was walking her towards his desk. Was his hair acceptable? Was his perpetually crooked tie still crooked? Was he slouching? She was getting closer and closer, and he could smell her perfume more heavily.

“This is Dr. Spencer Reid. Reid, this is… I didn’t actually get a name but I’m sure you’ll introduce yourself.” And with that, the suave agent left the two youngsters alone with each other. But they were not alone. Eyes stared at them from women all around the bullpen who were treating this like a mid day spa opera.

“Hi. I’m Reid, um Dr. Spencer Reid.” He raised his hand in a wave as he stood to greet the woman.

“Hi, I’m,” cut off from her introduction, was a deep voice sounding through the pen.

“Honey, is that you?” Mystery woman turned, and let out a bright smile at Aaron Hotchner who stood at the top of the stairs right outside his office.

“Hey. I was looking for you. I’ll be right there.” She turned back to the young doctor before her.

“It was nice meeting you Dr. Reid.” She turned to leave, but there was a moment that she hesitated. Spencer saw this, and without warning, or the ability to stop himself, he spoke.

“Did you know that in the Middle East Jasmine is typically called, ’Queen of the Night’ because the cooler temperatures and darkness allow the blossoms to emit a greater concentration of their scent? Also, the buds of the Jasmine plant are far more fragrant than the fully bloomed flowers?” As soon as he finished, Spencer cringed. He could not believe himself. Here he was trying not to make himself look like a fool in front of this mysteriously pretty woman, but that flew out with window with his big mouth and infinitely bigger brain.

“I did not know that. I’m quite shocked you picked up on that note. Everyone always smells vanilla.” With her body turned, Reid could not help but to profile her. Her shoulders were relaxed. One foot pointed towards Hotch and the other one him indicating that she wanted to keep her conversation going yet needed to turn and leave him. A soft smile let him know that she was genuinely interested in the conversation and her eyes sparkled at the knowledge that someone took the time with her.

“That’s because jasmine is not incredibly common in the perfume world, nor the botanical world. It’s a member of the olive family, although no one associates the two. Vanilla however is a far more common scent and is easier to use in bulk quantities to mask other fragrances.” He rambled. However unlike his colleagues, friends, family, and other women he had been interested in, she really seemed to appreciate his knowledge.

“Well, Dr. Reid, I always love learning new fun facts. Hopefully you’ll have some more for me when I come back out?” She looked towards him hopefully, and slowly turned to leave, keeping her eyes on him till the last second.

“Yeah. Definitely.” Spencer felt himself get giddy at the thought that she wanted to hear more fun facts when she came back. She wanted to come back. It almost felt to good to be true. He watched her ascend the stairs and get pulled into Hotch’s office before he returned to his paperwork. But the women of the bullpen and his team refused to let him forget that. Reid turned his face to where he felt the stares coming from and confusion twisted his features.

“What?” He was genuinely confused at their shocked faces. Emily’s jaw was on the floor, and JJ stared at him like he grew a second head. Penelope on the other hand just looked plain dumbfounded.

“What? What do you mean ‘what?’” Prentiss was the first to speak up.

“You talked with her.” Garcia spoke softly, trying to get over her shock.

“Well, she was nice and Morgan did kind of place her at my desk.” He tried to find himself lost within the papers on his desk, but it was in vain. Garcia marched her way over to his desk, and took the report out of Spencer’s hands to stare at him dead in the eye. He let out a noise of protest but that was overridden by the colorful woman’s own statement.

“Oh, you are smitten.” She stated so plainly.

“No! No, I’m not. Give me my report.” Spencer tried to take it from her hands but she stepped out of his way before he could take them back.

“His voice went up! 187 has got a crush on the mystery woman!” Her giddy tempo made the agent in front of her purse his lips in frustration. Reid stood up and tried once more to swipe the file, but was unsuccessful yet again.

“Garcia, give it back. I am not smitten nor do I have a crush.” He tried to protest, but even to him, his words sounded false.

“Oh, you are, my dear boy wonder. You’re blushing. I haven’t seen you blush in ages!” Penelope turned back to her female agents to gauge their reactions on her revelation. Spencer took this opportunity to take back his file with a snatch and go back to his desk.

“Spence, it’s fine to think she’s attractive. There’s nothing wrong with that.” JJ tried to reassure him in her motherly tone, but he still squirmed in his seat under the attention.

“I’m fine. There’s nothing going on. Sure, she’s pretty. But that’s it.” And with that, Spencer stuck his nose quite literally in the file that he was holding to get away from the scrutiny before him. However, he was unable to get away from it long, before he smelled jasmine’s again.

“I really appreciate you doing this dad. It means a lot to me.” Her voice carried through in the same way it had before. But now he was confused. Why was she calling Hotch dad? He only had one child, Jack.

“Anytime, honey. You need to come over for dinner at some point. Jack misses you, you know?” Now, everyone else’s attention was on the pair before them. Aaron’s hand helped her down the stairs and across the stair from her shoulders. He seemed to notice everyone’s eyes on them and turned before they made it out of the glass doors.

“Oh and this is, at least some of, my team that I was telling you about.” Everyone stood up to greet the woman standing near their unit chief.

“This is Emily Prentiss, Jennifer Jareau, Penelope Garcia, our tech analyst, and Dr. Spencer Reid.” Aaron introduced them one by one. And in that order, everyone shook her hands and greeted her with warm smiles and kind words.

“Doctor? What kind?” Her words held genuine intrigue, and Spencer could not help his smile from taking over his face.

“Um, the academic kind. I have three PhD’s.” A smile on her face overtook it in the same way it had his. Their eyes stayed locked onto each others, and neither felt the awkwardness of maintaining direct eye contact for that long.

“Everyone, this is my daughter.” He said her name, but everyone stopped for a moment and could not process this information. That hit everyone like a freight train.

“But, you don’t have any children other than Jack?” Garcia said so slowly that everyone could tell she was trying to wrap her head around the information before her.

“Well, when Haley and I were around seventeen, we got pregnant. But, realized that we were not in any capacity to take care of a child before we were out of high school or into adulthood. So we gave our daughter to a lovely couple that couldn’t conceive. We kept in contact and got regular updates throughout her life.” Aaron looked at his daughter with such adoration, everyone could see it.

“Now, she is about to finish up her second degree, and wants to go into law enforcement. Specifically, she’s thinking about joining the bureau and needed a letter of recommendation.” The words his boss said piqued Spencer’s interest.

“Second degree? What are the in?” He asked, trying to keep his voice level, but everyone could hear that tinge in it.

“My first was a PhD in criminal psychology, after getting a minor in psychology. Now I’m working on a BA in religious studies.” Reid was liking this girl more and more the more she talked.

“Oh, I could totally help with getting you into the bureau. I’ll give you my number and you just let me know when you put in your application. I can totally make sure you get into whatever department you want.” Garcia offered, her bubbly personality shining through her bright smile and fast hand movements.

“Garcia.” Hotch warned her with his tone.

“Totally legally, of course. I’m not doing anything that would jeopardize either one of our jobs. Nothing illegal, sir. Just want to help.” She stepped back just a little bit and held her hands in front of her to calm herself down.

“Well, I’ve gotta get going. I’ve still got work to do at home, but I’m hoping that I can see everyone here again.” She waved at everyone again, but stopped when she turned to the doctor in the room. Walking over, Spencer’s hands got all clams no matter how often he wiped them on his trousers. He could feel his heart beat out of his chest. Smelled her perfume getting closer. Jasmines and vanilla never seemed so enticing to him.

“I really want to continue our conversation from earlier. Maybe we can talk PhD’s or something similar. Here,” she handed a small card to him, “this is my number. Maybe we can meet for coffee sometime?” Hope laced her words, and Spencer felt giddy as he took the card from her hand. Their fingers brushed against each other and chose not to draw attention to the spark that flew.

“I’d really like that. Thank you.” He smiled at her, and ran his fingers over the ink on the business card in his hands. Aaron led her out of the glass doors afterwards, and everyone appeared to resume their work. Except, they did not. In fact, they watched Spencer return to his desk and set the card down within view.

“Pretty boy. My man!” Derek returned from where he watched the interaction with glee from the sidelines, and clapped the young agent on the back. This was now the second time today that he had done that.

“Spence got himself a date.” JJ sounded impressed and amused, and Morgan was eating it up. Beaming from ear to ear, he returned his attention to the man who just wanted to get some work done.

“Shut up.” Reid dismissed them quickly and it appeared to work. Although that may have also been because Hotch had just walked through the glass doors once more and no one wanted to be reprimanded today. All the agents dispersed, leaving the young doctor alone with his paperwork and thoughts.

However, his thoughts were overtaken when he could still smell that same perfume she had been wearing earlier. Spencer’s eyes drifted over to where that card laid perfectly against his desk. Bringing the card to his nose, he smelled perfume on it. It was still as intoxicating as when she was here. Setting it down, Reid turned back to his paperwork, and worked for the rest of the day in blissful silence. He knew that he would be smelling that perfume yet again, and soon.

“Scent is a potent wizard that transports you across thousands of miles and all the years you have lived.” Helen Keller

#spencer reid imagine #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x oc #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds #rebelliousstories

[somewhere-on-venus]

So you want to worship Aphrodite?

Aphrodite goddess of love, beauty, sexuality and so on.

Born of seafoam, goddess of the peoples hearts.

Aphrodite has been a big part of my life for awhile... Shes blessed me in many ways! And if you want to work with her I hope to help you.

I won't be going into her history in this post, this is more of a guide on how to get started on worshipping her.

The first thing alot of people ask about is how to build that connection, how to reach out. With any deity I work with I started out leaving an offering, lighting a candle and/or incense and offering my devotion through prayer. I then usually follow up with divination of some form to build on the relationship and get to know them. As for offerings I find it can be flexible to what you have. But I'll list off some traditional and other kinds of offerings here first!

Offerings~

• frankincense incense

• apple

• eggs

• strawberries

• chocolate

• honey

• roses

• olives

• wine/mulled wine

• raisins/grapes

• perfume

• cosmetics

• shells

These are just a few but there are plenty more.

I personally when I'm short on any of these I offer her some of my own food. Theres been times where she has gotten a pizza pocket but a big thing is to remember is to not stress about this! The gods are understanding, they won't be mad and Aphrodite certainly wont be! The biggest thing that matters is that it comes from the heart...

Ill also listen some plants and food associated with her as it might also be helpful for offerings.

• rosemary

• hibiscus

• Jasmine

• myrtle

• mint

• cinnamon

• basil

• cannabis

• lettuce

• strawberries

• pomegranate

• iris

• myyrh

• vanilla

• ginger

• peach

• frankincense

Associated animals

• doves

• sparrows

• waterfowl

• dolphins

Crystals

• rose quartz

• pearl

• aquamarine

• jade

• moonstone

• rhodolite

• carnelian

Setting up an altar

Personally I set up a small altar space first... I see it as welcoming them into my home, healing them settle/get comfortable. It would be like maybe getting your home presentable and such for a new friend coming over. And I believe that when approaching the gods you should do it like that, great them as a new friend. Be respectful, don't rush into it and be welcoming.

When I first set up my altar to Aphrodite I looked around my room for what I could use first. I wouldn't rush into buying stuff until you've established that connection.

I searched for shells, pink items, fake flowers etc. I even put toys and jewelry that reminded me of her on there. I also used a tea light and pink spell candles.

This was my first altar:

If you have any questions let me know.. I will do posts like these on other deities I worship soon 🩷

(also this is from my personal experience.. I hope it is helpful though)

#hellenic pagan #hellenism #witch community #witchblr #witchcraft #hellenic polytheism #aphrodite #venus #altar

[inbloomwriting]

a calm surrender II Roy Kent

Plot: Roy doesn't love her. In fact, he finds her irritating above anything else. And yet he manages to tell her in so many different ways.

Pairing: Roy Kent x female reader

Warnings: A lot of swearing, mentions of food and alcohol. Reader takes Keeley's spot in some plot points - no disrepect to her though she's my favorite.

Notes: This is inspired by a "100 ways to say I love you" List. It’s 8.3k words, It's a big one.

Likes, reblogs, comments are all much appreciated. I am German. Sometimes I get the tense wrong or make mistakes. I am useless when it comes to punctuation. Go easy on me, please

"It's enough for this restless warrior Just to be with you"

Take my jacket, it’s cold & You can have half

She’s irritating. Everything about her manages to get under his skin. The way she’s always smiling that big radiant smile of hers or the perpetual scent of jasmine and vanilla that seems to follow her anywhere. She laughs too loud, she’s a terrible driver and even worse at parking. The music coming from the physio room is mostly cheesy 80s and 90s pop songs that make Roy want to give himself a lobotomy. She’s irritating in every which way you look at it — and maybe that’s the exact reason why Roy can’t keep himself from looking at her.

Tonight is no exception. For some inexplicable reason, his eyes manage to find her across the room and in the crowd, every single time without fail. It’s not like it’s a conscious choice on his part either. It just happens. That sparkly green dress of her’s just seems to call out to him like the damn light across the bay at the Buchanan’s dock.

And the worst part is that she noticed. She caught his eyes on her more than once, even had the audacity to smirk back at him. During the auction, for a small moment, he thought she might bid on him when her hand just barely twitched and her eyes held a sense of infinite mischief. She didn’t though and for a second he could feel a string of disappointment pull at his heart. Not because he wanted her to bid on him or anything, he just wasn’t particularly fond of the idea of having to spend time with Cheryl Barnaby.

He managed to find her across the room all night — except for right now. Everyone’s on the dance floor. Keeley, Jamie, Ted, even Beard. But not her.

No one’s paying attention to him right now, if he were to just slip out of here, no one will notice.

It’s not like he wanted to be here in the first place. Sure, raising money for underprivileged children is something honorable and he would never let his own disdain for overly glitzy social events get in the way of doing the right thing. Doesn’t mean he has to like it though.

Emptying his glass with one last sip he grabs his jacket from the back of the chair and steps out into the chilly air of a London night.

It’s funny, really, how the moment he stops searching, the green light calls back out to him and she steps into his vision. A glowing beacon of refuge, guiding ships through dark nights to safe shores.

The cold air nips at her skin, sharp and vicious and Roy doesn’t even have to get any closer to her to notice that she’s shivering. He can barely suppress the urge to roll his eyes at her. Of course, she’s cold, she’s only wearing the dress and some flimsy chiffon scarf thing around her shoulders. That’s gonna do fuck all to shelter her from the cold. Irritating. She’s so irritating.

The most irritating part though, is that he can’t help but slip out of his suit jacket. The most irritating part is that he can’t help but care.

“Take my jacket, it’s cold.”

There it is again, that smile of hers. The one he sees sometimes when he’s about to fall asleep. How ridiculous, he thinks, how foolish of him. How absurd it is to fall asleep to the image of a smile belonging to a girl that annoys him more than anything and anyone. (Except maybe Jamie).

“Are you — are you talking to me? Little old me? Are you being nice to me?”

“Jesus fuck, don’t make it weird. I’m always nice.”

She giggles and it’s bloody adorable. So adorable that a smile threatens to pull the corners of his lips upwards. See? Fucking irritating.

“You hardly talk more than 3 words to me when you’re in the physio room but — okay. If that’s your version of nice.”

“Take the jacket or not, I don’t care. I’ll let you freeze out here if you’re trying to be difficult. Means fuck all to me.”

That’s not true. They both know it. No matter how much Roy tries to deny or hide it, there is a soft heart buried inside the rough exterior. He just can’t risk showing that to everyone. Can’t have people getting the wrong ideas.

“No, please I — sorry I’m just — you make me nervous and when I’m nervous I talk a lot and then most of what comes out is just stupid nonsense or deflecting humor or something. I would really appreciate that jacket. It really is fucking freezing.”

Roy has been in the public eye for years now, he’s used to people being intimidated, nervous. Usually, it’s strangers though, people who don’t know him. Those that do, that work with him, usually lose that feeling pretty quickly.

“Why the fuck would I make you nervous?”

She just glances at him before turning her face back towards the street “Have you seen yourself?”

He’s not sure how to take that. Is it a compliment? Does she think he’s handsome? It’s not like it matters to him really. In fact, the thought that she might find him attractive is — say it with me — fucking irritating.

He contemplates asking her outright if this is something she does on purpose. If she’s deliberately trying to rile him up. The words are on the tip of his tongue when he notices her shiver once again and all that was on his mind vanishes against the desperate need to keep her warm.

“Jesus. Let me just — “

Jasmine. Vanilla. He smells it when he slips the jacket around her shoulders. He wonders if his jacket will smell like that, like her, when he gets it back. Wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world. Not because it’s her or anything — just because it smells fantastic and Roy is not one to deny himself the simple pleasures in life.

“I really appreciate it, Roy.”

And the gratefulness with which she says it is not irritating at all. It’s endearing. It’s flutters-in-his-tummy kind of wonderful.

Instead of reacting like a normal, reasonable person with a simple “you're welcome”, he gives her one of his signature grunts. That’s as good a normal reasonable reaction as anyone can expect from him, really.

“What are you out here all by yourself for anyway? Trying to get kidnapped or something?”

“No,” there it is again, the giggle. Ugh. “ I’m waiting for my Uber. He’s — “She checks her phone, illuminating her face with the harsh blue light. He thinks she looks wonderful either way. Then scolds himself for thinking it. Some simple pleasures he has to deny himself. “ 12 minutes away.”

Roy isn’t quite certain whether or not he considers himself a good person. He tries to be, it’s a conscious effort each and every day. He helps out his sister, he gives in to all of Phoebe’s wishes even if it means having to play the princess yet again and never getting to be the dragon. He donates more money to charity than the press is aware of, leaves hefty tips whenever he goes out to eat and though he does swear a lot, he still tries to be polite if he can.

He tries to be a good person and a good person doesn’t let a woman wait outside in the cold dark night by herself. No matter how infuriating she is.

“Do you mind if I keep you company? Couldn’t live with myself if you got snatched up and I was the last person to see you alive.”

A laugh tumbles from her lips. A step up from a giggle and god does it send shockwaves through his traitorous heart.

“The press would have a field day if that happened. I can see the headlines, ‘Football legend Roy Kent involved in the disappearance of Richmond sports physio’ and then they use a picture of you from like 10 years ago with the really bad long hair that makes you look a little sketchy.”

“I didn’t look sketchy.”

“You looked a little sketchy.”

Roy glances at her through the corner of his eyes. She really is a dream in forest green, the sequins, and rhinestones reflecting the street lights like little kaleidoscopes. He’s almost certain he’ll dream in shades of green tonight. He’s sure he’ll see her smiling face.

“You look beautiful.”

The words fall from his lips before he can stop them and it makes him want to put his head through a wall. Fuck.

“Thank you —” she replies bashfully, “do you want some sausage roll?”

In all the scenarios running through his head of how this conversation could’ve gone, this is not one of the outcomes he expected.

“What?” he asks, one eyebrow raised in question.

“Do you want a part of my sausage roll?” she chuckles and pulls a brown paper bag from her sparkly clutch bag. “I wasn’t sure if they were gonna actually feed us or just serve us rich people portions so I brought backup. You can have half if you want.”

She breaks the flaky pastry in two and holds one piece out to him. Even her nails are painted to match the dress. If he was any worse a man he would risk it all for just one taste of her and whatever black magic she possesses that gets so deeply under his skin. He is a better man than that tough, so he settles for a taste of the sausage roll.

“You’re a strange woman”

“Strange or smart?”

Taking a bite from the sausage roll, buttery and flaky and greasy, he must admit she has a point.

“Bit of both.”

“I can live with that.”

Silence settles upon them, well as silent as a London night can be. It feels weirdly comfortable. No expectations to be someone or do something. Just her and the city and the fucking Greggs sausage roll.

And — Elton John?

“Oh, I love that song!”

A string of pink lights adorns the top of the rikshaw as it turns the corner, loudly blasting Can you feel the love tonight. The driver catches sight of them and Roy can’t suppress the annoyed groan slipping its way out.

“Good evening can I interest you lovebirds in a — “

“No, fuck off!”

Elton’s voice gets quieter and quieter as the startled driver rides his rickshaw further away and back into the inky black of the night.

Lovebirds, he called them lovebirds. Thought the two of them were anything other than acquaintances. People pushed together by circumstances and coincidence. As if anything between them could ever happen. She’s already getting under his skin, sticks around his thoughts, and ghosts through his head without him ever giving her permission to do so. She’s all he can think about lately and yes he knows it sounds repetitive but god it’s so damn irritating.

“I would’ve liked to hear the rest of the song.”

Roy scoffs “Figures.”

“What's that supposed to mean?”

He turns to face her and, for the first time since he’s stepped out of the building and into this tiny bubble they’re sharing for just this fleeting moment, he looks at her. Really looks at her. With her sparkly dress and her lips painted a deep red like candy apples. With flakes of the pastry sticking to her lower lip and his jacket wrapped around her looking almost like this is where it’s always belonged.

He’s never had a heart attack before, he wonders if this is what it feels like.

“You play the worst fucking music when you’re working in the physio room.”

“Uh — are you insulting my taste in music? Are you really out here insulting the legend, sir Elton John? The Lion King soundtrack is a religious experience, okay?”

He hates that he can clearly tell by the glimmer of mischief in her eyes that she is joking more than anything. He shouldn’t be able to tell. Mere acquaintances can’t do shit like that.

“No, in fact, it’s a pretty fucking great movie. It came out when my sister was a kid though and I had to watch that shit a million times. You know how traumatizing it is having to watch Mufasa die over and over again?“

She grants him a look of understanding and shrugs her shoulders in agreement “At least it’s not Frozen, eh? “

“I have a 6-year-old niece.”

Roy Kent has a lot of things in his life that he takes pride in. His career and talent, all the hard work he put in to be where he is today. He takes pride in being a good brother and a loving uncle and maybe even a good friend and leader.

Making her let out a snort as she laughs at his Frozen-induced misery? That might be his proudest achievement to date.

“I’m glad you find my suffering amusing.”

“What can I say? You’re a funny guy, Roy Kent. So funny in fact that I almost bid on you at the auction.”

He wants to let out the most guttural scream in the existence of mankind. She can’t just go ahead and say stuff like that. Not when he is trying so hard to keep their interactions at the most basic level. Not when she already haunts his dreams. She’s irritating, Roy. Not charming or lovable or — beautiful. Or maybe she is all those things but most of all she’s annoying and infuriating and — oh he’s so fucked.

“Why didn’t you?”

“Oh, well I’m just a measly sports physician. Don’t get me wrong, it's good money but I don’t really earn quite enough to throw thousands of pounds at a man to have him spend time with me.”

He’d do it for free. Hate every second of it, naturally. But he’d do it for free.

Can’t tell her that though. Never. So once again he just grunts.

A silver Toyota pulls up to the curb, effectively bursting their little bubble of comfort as the driver leans down to look out the window. “You (Y/N) ?”

“Yes, that’s me.”

She makes a motion to slip out of the jacket, only for Roy to step in and hold it closed, keeping it in place, wrapped around her, and shielding her from the cold.

“Keep it,” his voice comes out all rough and husky. More than usual. It’s probably the jasmine scent getting to him, clouding his every sense. “Don’t want you to freeze on the way home. Just give it back another time.”

“Oh, okay. Well, thanks again. Goodnight, Roy.”

He opens the door for her and closes it softly once she’s settled into the car. Roy tries so hard to be a good man, a good person but in that moment all he wants to do is be a little bit worse, just a little bit. Just enough to rip the door open again, pull her out of the seat and kiss her stupid.

Instead, he wishes her a good night and sends her off before stepping out into the night himself. There is a smile playing on his lips all the way home and it’s so fucking irritating.

I was in the neighborhood & It’s okay I couldn’t sleep anyway

The door leading to her apartment is bright red and there is a little white sign and the picture of a dog with huge fucking ears that reminds him of Gizmo from the Gremlins. It says “Beware of the dog — might cuddle you to death.”

It’s cheesy as hell. He loves it.

He’s not quite sure how he ended up here. Losing is never fun. Feeling yourself slowly becoming unable to do the things you love, the things you were good at, and actively playing a part in your team losing? That’s absolutely mortifying.

Of all the places he could’ve gone, all the people he could’ve seen — he ends up in front of her door. Red and shiny like her lips that night.

It’s almost 1am and all things considered, this is a really dumb idea. She’s probably asleep and waking her up would be fucking rude. He should just go and forget this ever happened instead of knocking on her door in the middle of the night. That’s what the rational part of his brain tells him at least.

Roy was never really good at listening to the rational part of his brain.

Tiny barks, no doubt belonging to the dog on the sign, echo through the hallway before the door swings open just enough for (Y/N) to look at him with tired eyes.

“Roy?”

“I was in the neighborhood I — I didn’t mean to wake you. I’m sorry.”

It’s not a lie, really. He was in the neighborhood. He walked here specifically to knock on her door and see her.

“It’s okay, I couldn’t sleep anyway.”

Now that is most definitely a lie. Her eyes are sleepy, her hair disheveled and he can just about make out the pillow print on her cheek.

“Do you want to come in?”

He does. He shouldn’t but he really does.

The apartment is small but it feels cozy rather than cramped. The walls are lined with pictures, little reminders of happy moments and people she loves.

There’s one of him too, well him and Isaac and Sam and then her at the end of the line. He thinks it was taken at some get-together after a particularly hard-fought win. He likes to know that there’s a picture of him on her wall even if his appearance in the photo is probably more incidental than anything.

“I didn’t know you had a dog.”

It’s a stupid thing to say, there is so much he doesn’t know about her. He doesn’t know where she was born or if she has siblings or if she always wanted to be a physiotherapist. But there are things he does know, like the specific way she likes her coffee and that she always gets a snickerdoodle cookie from the bakery down the road from the stadium, every Wednesday without fail. How she scrunches up her nose when she’s frustrated and that she snorts when something makes her laugh really hard.

“His name is Yoda. He’s a papillon and also my best friend.”

“Don’t let Sam hear.”

“Oh, he’s also Sam’s best friend.”

Yoda, it’s a fitting name. He does look like a Yoda.

“So what brings you here, Roy? At uh — “ she glances towards her open kitchen and the digital clock on the microwave “ 1:04 am?”

Should’ve gotten his story straight before he came here. What is he supposed to say? I felt like proper shit and wanted to see your smile? Surely not.

So he blurts out the first thing that comes to his mind.

“Came to get my jacket back.”

Absolute dumbass.

“Your jacket? Oh uh. sure. Let me go get it.”

She regards him with confusion and curiosity, he can tell she’s not really buying his story.

“Or, if you aren’t in a rush, I was about to pop in a movie and pig out on some popcorn? Do you want to join me?”

This might be the first time he lets her see the smile she continues to put on his face.

“Fuck yeah, what are we watching?”

“Vernon is such a little bitch. Antagonizing fucking teenagers? What a loser."

“Right?,” (Y/N) agrees, taking a sip from her glass of rose before stuffing another handful of buttery popcorn into her mouth. “Bender needed someone to care, not just another adult yelling at him. "Such a loser. Hey, now that I think about it, you do give me John Bender vibes. All broody and mysterious.”

Roy just scoffs in response.

Her eyes fall onto his empty glass of wine resting on the little square table in front of the couch.

“You want a top-up?”

“No, I’m good. I should probably get going.”

He hates to admit it, it’s something he’ll take to the grave with him, but there’s something about rosé that gets to him. It makes him tipsy immediately. He doesn’t want to go home but the longer he stays the more he opens himself up to saying something stupid and fucking this up — whatever this is.

“Did you walk here?”

“Mmh.”

“Oh well I can’t in good conscience let you walk home, half a bottle of rosé in your system and dealing with all the emotions brought on by the breakfast club. Couldn’t live with myself if you got snatched up and I was the last person to see you alive”

Throwing his own words back at him should be infuriating, annoying. It isn’t. It’s lovely. She’s lovely.

“You can stay if you want. My couch isn’t the biggest but I think you’ll fit just fine.”

The sincerity in her eyes hits him like a dart to the chest. It’s something so simple as offering him her couch for the night but it means everything for a man who has grown so awfully accustomed to loneliness.

“If I stay, will you make me breakfast?”

“Fuck no”

Laughter fills the tiny living room and it takes him a second to realize it’s his own.

“I might be up for a Starbucks run tomorrow morning before work though.”

“Sounds great. I love peppermint lattes, those are fucking delicious.”

She grants him another smile as she gathers their glasses and the empty bottle and brings them to the kitchen before returning with a fluffy pink blanket for him. He thinks that smile could’ve just about killed him, thinks he might just die right here on her couch and it wouldn’t be so bad.

“Well goodnight, then. Hope you don’t mind Yoda”

The dog is curled up on Roy’s chest like a little bagel. It’s gonna be annoying later, he’s sure but hell will freeze over before he disturbs the little pup.

“That’s fine.”

“He snores, just thought you should know.”

“Makes two of us then, hope he doesn’t mind.”

Another laugh. Another tiny heart attack.

She’s by the door, just about to turn off the light and plunge the room into darkness, when she hesitates for a moment.

“Hey Roy,”

“Yes?”

“I’m sorry you guys lost today and I — I can see you struggling but I just wanted you to know that it was not your fault. I need you to know that.”

The entire way here, he tried to make himself rationalize that. Make himself understand that losing is part of the game and that he did his best. But knowing your best might not be good enough anymore is a hard fucking pill to swallow.

Hearing her say that it’s not his fault, it takes the weight off for a moment. Not all the way, never all the way. But a tiny little bit and that’s a whole lot already.

“Goodnight, (Y/N).”

“Night, Roy.”

He falls asleep with the taste of rosé on his tongue, the snoring of a little dog in his ears, and the sight of her on his mind, all sleepy eyes and messy hair. She never looked better.

It looks good on you & I like your laugh

He’s positively buzzing with euphoria. They won, something no one thought was possible. They won and he scored the winning goal.

Spirits are high as the team and their friends have taken over the Karaoke place. Shots and drinks flow with no regard to the tab they’re raking up or the headache that awaits each of them tomorrow. None of that matters right now. Tonight is made for celebrating. Consequences don’t exist right here and now.

Rebecca burns the house down with her rendition of let it go and after a short intermission by Dani, singing a Spanish song that neither of them managed to join in with their non-existent knowledge of the language, the opening chords to another familiar song fill the room.

“Well, thanks for making us all look like amateurs, Rebecca,” (Y/N) says into the microphone as she takes her place on stage. Her words are laced with happiness and laughter and Roy thinks she must have him under some spell because he can’t manage to not smile when she’s around. It’s a bit ridiculous if he’s being honest.

“I will most definitely not be able to live up to that performance but I thought we could stay in the Disney bubble for a moment.”

Her eyes meet his across the room and when she winks at him it takes everything in him not to get up on stage and devour her. Fucking irritating.

“I know you all know this song so sing along if you feel like it. This one’s for you, John Bender.”

He knows it’s one of the cheesiest love songs ever, written for a movie about a cartoon lion. But sitting on the couch at the karaoke place surrounded by his team, having just scored a winning goal and listening to the girl that haunts his dreams sing straight to him and only him, he thinks Elton has a point. He can feel the love tonight. It’s in the smiles of his friends, and the voices coming together all chaotic and off-key singing along to the song. And there is love in her eyes, clear as day and undeniable.

“And can you feel the love tonight How it's laid to rest? It's enough to make kings and vagabonds Believe the very best”

The night is coming to an end, everyone’s found their way to their respective rooms — or whoever’s room they felt like staying at. Roy’s pretty sure he saw Rebecca’s friend enter Ted’s room but that’s none of his fucking business, is it?

“Okay, you can’t laugh though!” (Y/N)’s voice calls out from the bathroom and drifts towards the main part of the room where Roy is perched on the chair by the window.

This isn’t his room and really he knows he shouldn’t be here. But being alone right now sounded like proper torture. He wasn’t ready to leave this magical night behind yet. Not like this. Not when she sang to him and he had nothing to give her in return. So when she invited him to her room to watch yet another John Hughes movie on Netflix, he couldn’t do anything but accept.

“Are you sleeping in one of those weird fluffy onesies?”

“No, god no.”

“Then I don’t know why I’d laugh at you.”

When she steps into the room, he can see why she’d think he’d laugh at her choice of sleepwear. The white shirt looks not so white anymore, there is a hole at the bottom and a mysterious red stain by the collar. It doesn’t make him laugh though. It makes him fucking hard. Because that’s his name on the back of it. That’s a 2014 world cup Roy Kent England Jersey.

“Fuck me.”

He doesn't mean to let it slip but alcohol and euphoria have made his lips go loose.

“I knoooow, it’s embarrassing. I meant to bring something else but it’s just so comfortable.”

“It looks good on you.”

It does. He thought the green dress was it. Then he thought she looked absolutely adorable, all sleepy and natural. But this? This is the look that pushes him over the edge. This is everything.

“Yeah?” she asks and twirls around the room, not unlike Phoebe whenever Roy gifts her yet another new princess dress. He’s just such a sucker, can never say no when she asks him for something. “You just wait and see, I’ll steal your job soon enough.”

That makes him erupt into laughter yet again, he doesn’t think he’s laughed quite as much lately as when he is with her.

“I’ve seen you attempt to play before. I’m not worried.”

“I like your laugh,” she says, all warm eyes and wistful smile.

“Yeah?”

“Yes.”

Something takes over, an invisible force pulling him to his feet and making him walk up to her. She’s leaning against the wall as he places one hand on her hip, the other on the wall next to her head. This shouldn’t be happening, he knows this. It’s dumb to believe that whatever tension there is between them can lead to anything. That’s just not in the cards for him no matter how much he wishes for it.

Girls like her don’t fall for boys like him. They never did, they never will.

“Roy Kent, you won today.”

Winning the game is the last thing on his mind right now. How could he ever think about winning right this moment when her hand is softly resting on his cheek and her nose gently nuzzling against his and the —

A knock on the door cuts through the moment making Roy let go and take a step back.

“Fucks sake.”

In his defense, Sam looks apologetic as he stands in front of the door, signature smile on his face. Good-natured and lovable. If this was any other moment Roy wouldn’t have been able to be mad at him. But this is that moment and he is a little pissed right now.

“Sorry I didn’t mean to disturb, I was just wondering if you had another phone charger. I can’t find mine and I know you always bring extra so — “

“Uh, yeah let me go get it real quick.” (Y/N) says and turns back towards the room.

Roy’s eyes connect with hers for a split second and it’s like a bucket of ice straight over his head. They both know whatever magical spell they had been under, it’s broken and gone and all that’s left now is a big old pile of what-ifs.

“It’s getting late, I should leave. Goodnight, (Y/N). Night, Sam.”

“We’ll reschedule, yeah?”

Tiny smile on his lips he nods his head in agreement.

He gets a soft “goodnight” in return and though he hates to admit it, the touch of her hand against his cheek lingers there all the way to his room and even further into his dreams.

Call me when you get home & We’ll figure it out

Rain pounds against the roof and windows like tiny bullets. A rainstorm has Richmond tight in its clutches so cruel and unforgiving the team can’t even train right now.

And yet for some reason Roy still finds himself in the workout room, trying to push himself to do just 5 more minutes on the treadmill. Just 5 more.

Actually, it’s not entirely true. He knows why he’s here. Part of him hopes that if he just pushes himself enough, he can overcome the pain in his leg and all the issues it causes. That if he just tries harder, he can go back to being the talented overachiever he used to be.

But it hurts. A sharp stabbing pain rushes through his knee forcing him to step off the treadmill. He hates this. In fact, it’s his worst fucking nightmare. Football is all he’s ever been good at, he can’t lose that. It’s his entire life.

If he’s not Roy the footballer, who is he? Some bloke named Roy with a dead career and no one to come home to? Now doesn’t that sound delightful?

"Roy?"

“Jesus, fuck!”

There she goes again giving him a heart attack, only this time it’s not because she’s being cute or anything.

“Oh shit, I didn’t mean to scare you.”

The smile on her face falls as she catches sight of him holding onto his knee. He can almost see the thoughts running through her head. She knows about his knee. If anyone knows how bad it is, it’s her. She told him not to overdo it. Said that would only make it worse.

He knows she has pity on him and he hates it. It’s irritating coming from everyone. Irritating and misplaced. Why would they pity him? It’s his own damn fault for not being good enough anymore.

But coming from her? That’s even worse. No one wants a guy that’s getting too old to do his job properly. That’s falling apart and breaking.

— Not that he wants her or anything. Oh, Roy, who are you trying to fool here? Of course, he wants her.

“Don’t look at me like that, I’m fine.”

She raises her eyebrow in disbelief, in that bratty way that drives him crazy.

“I said I’m fine, (Y/N).”

“I hear what you’re saying,” she says and comes to stand next to him, crossing her arms in defiance. “but I can also see the way you’re holding your knee and that face you’re making. You’re in pain, love.”

Love. He doesn’t hate how it sounds when she calls him that. Irritating for sure but also — sweet.

“I’ll be fine! What are you even doing here?”

He hasn’t seen a lot of her ever since the night in Liverpool and while part of him was quite glad about it because he honestly wasn’t sure whether or not to bring up whatever had or had not happened between them, another part of him had missed her smile desperately.

“I work here.”

“You’re a fucking smartass, aren’t you.”

“I try.”

Fuck, even when she’s being deliberately difficult she manages to pull a smirk from him.

“I had some paperwork to do but by the time I arrived here, the storm was so bad that now I have to wait for it to stop before I can drive home. I hate driving when it rains.”

“Oh you should,” Roy returns, nodding his head in agreement “You’re a horrible driver in the best of weather.”

She responds with a scandalized gasp and a hand placed on her heart in mock upset “I am not a horrible driver! Take that back.”

“It took you 18 minutes to park your car the other day. I know because I saw it, we all saw it. Boys took the time and had bets going. Jamie won 20 quid.”

“Wha — okay I’ll have to have a word with the guys, you’re ridiculous. But don’t think you can change the topic on me, Mister. Is your knee getting worse?”

Yes, and he fucking hates it. Can’t even say the words out loud because that feels like admitting defeat. And that’s a terrifying thing to do.

Fortunately for him, he doesn’t have to say anything. A look is all it takes and she nods her head in understanding.

“That’s okay, Roy. We’ll figure something out.”

We will figure something out. We as in him and her. Since pretty much the beginning of his professional career, Roy had admirers. People who would latch onto everything he did or said and hold him to abnormally high standards he would never be able to reach. They adored him but they also didn’t know him. She knows him even when he tries so hard to keep her at arm's length. She knows him and is still in his corner, still has his back. The only people who ever did that were his family.

It’s an unusual feeling but he really really likes it. Even if it’s a little terrifying.

“What if — “ he takes a deep breath, trying to form the words that weigh so heavy on his heart “What if I can’t go back to how it used to be? What if this is the end for me?”

“Do you want me to be honest or nice?”

“Lay it on me then.”

“Things might not get back to how they used to be and there’s not really much you can do about it other than learn to accept it and then figure out a new place for yourself.”

“Football is all I have.”

“That’s not true but even if it was there is so much more about it than just the players.”

She’s right but it’s still a bitter pill to swallow.

“…and with that smile of yours, you can always go into modeling. I’m sure they’re always looking for new faces in the toothpaste commercial business.”

“Oh fuck off.”

“See! There’s that smile I was talking about.”

“You’re fucking insufferable sometimes.”

She is. He adores it.

“Oh, but you like it — right?”

“What?”

“You do — like it? Like me?”

It’s the first time he’s seen her act insecure. She’s always so bubbly and happy and smiling, he hates that he put any doubt in her mind that he does anything but cherish her.

“You irritate me, woman. Drive me up the fucking wall, every day.”

“I’m sorry.”

“No! Don’t say sorry. I love it. I think you’re a fucking knockout. Best thing since sliced bread.”

He does, he truly does and it feels nice to say it out loud for once. To admit it to her and to himself. It feels nice when she comes closer and when she rests her arms around his neck and it feels fucking phenomenal when her nose brushes past his and he can almost feel her lips on his.

Almost.

That’s until her phone beeps and she pulls away altogether.

“Ah shit, I gotta go.”

“Fuck sake. The universe hates me.”

“The universe doesn’t hate you, Roy Kent. We just have bad timing. ”

He’s not convinced.

“What about the storm?”

“I think the rain stopped, listen.”

Roy hears nothing. Where raindrops were drumming against the roof and windows just minutes ago, there is silence. He’s never wished for a rainstorm to persist more than he does at that moment.

“Well, call me when you get home at least. Roads will still be wet.”

“Aw, Roy, are you worried about me?”

His lips say no, but his eyes and his smile tell a different story.

You can stay & Is this okay? Can I hold your hand?

This is it. This is the end. He’s seen this one coming for a while now but he tried so hard. He trained and pushed and it was all for nothing. They’re losing and his career as an active footballer is over for good.

The door to the locker room opens slowly, almost cautiously and he’s just about to yell and whoever dares to disturb him, when his head snaps up and he sees (Y/N) standing in the doorway.

“What are you doing here? Game is still going, you’re the fucking Physio.”

“Good thing there’s more than one of us. I have to make sure all my players are okay.”

I’m not okay. That’s what he wants to say. He wants to scream it from the rooftops. He’s not okay. He’s not sure he ever will be.

“Get out, (Y/N).”

She can’t see him like this. Defeated. Broken. Old.

Instead of listening to him, she sits down beside him and holds an ice pack to his injured knee.

“As a physio, I need to tell you that what you did was really stupid.”

He knows it was. It was a calculated risk he was willing to take and if nothing else, he kept Jamie from scoring and the fans appreciated it. That was all that mattered at that moment.

“But as a friend and Richmond fan, I think it was brilliant. I just wish you didn’t hurt yourself in the process.”

Silence settles over them and (Y/N) is just about to get back up when he grabs onto her arm and pulls her back down. “You can stay.”

“Okay.”

And for a long while they just sit. No words, no expectations. Just them.

Softly, almost like a whisper, he feels her touch against his hand, sliding her fingers between his.

“Is this okay? Can I hold your hand?”

It’s not okay. It’s phenomenal. It’s everything he could’ve wished for in that moment but never would’ve had the nerve to ask. It’s a promise that he isn’t alone in this. There is someone there holding his hand through the darkest of times.

A green light guiding him to safe shores.

“Don’t you fucking dare let go.”

Stay there, I’m coming to get you & I can't wait for tomorrow

Turns out, retiring from a successful football career does not mean you suddenly have a lot of free time. In fact, Roy doesn’t think he’s ever been this busy doing shit he doesn’t like.

Everyone wants an interview, a statement, a “what happens next”. It’s a lot of paperwork and contracts and shit he doesn’t care about. The point is, he’s fucking busy. So busy he hasn’t seen (Y/N) in quite a few days. Nothing has really changed since their moment in the locker room but somehow everything feels different.

It’s exactly 4:12 am when his phone rings. He almost doesn’t want to answer but calls at 4am usually mean bad news and he’d never forgive himself if something happened to his sister or Phoebe or (Y/N) or even (and he will deny this if you ask him about it) Jamie just because he couldn’t be bothered to answer his phone.

“Hello?”

“Royoooo.”

Oh. Oh!

A smirk pulls at his lips.

“(Y/N)?”

“Sorry —” she says and stops for a giggle “Sorry to wake you. I just — I was out with the girls and I didn’t plan on drinking but I did. They had a buy one get one free deal. It would be stupid to say no, right?”

“Right.”

"So, yeah."

“Go on. Didn’t just call me to tell me about the drinks, did you.”

“Oh, no. I just wanted to talk to you while I wait for my Uber. I miss you.”

“Do you?”

“So much!” her words are slow and slightly slurred. “Every fucking day. Like — god, I just wanna see your stupid handsome face.”

“It’s handsome, innit?”

“You have no idea! I just want to kiss you, so badly.”

Kiss him. She wants to kiss him. Sure, it almost happened twice but it’s still different hearing her outright say it. But then again, she’s drunk and by the time she wakes up tomorrow, she probably won’t remember half of what she’s saying right now.

“Where are you?”

“It’s that weird little bar around the corner from Sam’s restaurant. The one with the green door.”

“Go on and cancel that Uber.”

“Then how am I going to get home?”

“Stay there, I’m coming to get you.”

Roy isn’t quite certain whether or not he considers himself a good person. He tries to be, it’s a conscious effort each and every day. He tries to be a good person and a good person doesn’t let the woman he’s absolutely head over heels for wait outside in the cold dark night by herself. No matter how infuriating she is.

“Okay,” she agrees, a giggle slipping past her lips “Thank you. Can’t wait to see you.”

And though Roy had other plans for his weekend than picking up a drunk girl at 4 in the morning, he also can’t wait to see her.

“…and like it was mostly sugar, right? So I thought why not have another one. Turns out it was mostly vodka.”

“Who could’ve guessed.”

She’s cuddled up on his couch in one of his shirts looking into his eyes and retelling her night in vivid detail. Her story is slurred and a bit all over the place, blame it on her tipsy brain. It takes her forever to get to the point and when she does, the point doesn’t even make all that much sense. It doesn’t matter, he’d listen to her ramble forever if it meant he got to spend time with her wearing his shirt sitting on his couch — looking into his eyes.

“You’re going to feel like shit tomorrow.”

“I know,” she shrugs then scoots closer to him and wraps her arms around his “but you’re here so it’s only half as bad really.”

“If I’m feeling generous I’ll even make you breakfast.”

“You really are the dream, Roy Kent.”

She’s clawing at his chest, prying open his ribcage and burying herself where his heart used to be. Metaphorically speaking, of course.

“You have to stop saying shit like that. People are gonna think you’re in love with me or something.”

She pulls away slightly and looks up at him with those big eyes of hers before resting one hand on his cheek.

“Roy, I am. I thought you knew.”

He had a hunch, of course. Fostered a spark of hope in his heart that there could be something between them after all. But once you grow accustomed to loneliness it’s a little hard to let yourself believe.

“Do I need to show you to believe me?”

She pulls his face closer to hers and for a millisecond he wants to let go, but when he smells the alcohol on her breath he pulls back. This isn’t right.

“Did I do something wrong?”

“You’re off your tits. I’m not kissing you like this. Our first kiss is not going to be some inebriated tongue-wagging. You hear me? I’m a hopeless fucking romantic, that kiss is gonna be special. I’m gonna kiss you stupid.”

She bites her lips to suppress the smile from taking over.

“So if I were to ask again tomorrow, you’d say yes?”

“Mh.”

“Promise?”

“Yes.”

At that she snuggles further into his arms and rests her head against his shoulder, a content smile on her face as she closes her eyes.

“Oh, I can’t wait for tomorrow.”

He doesn’t admit it, but neither can he.

I think you're beautiful & I’ll meet you halfway

“Roy?”

Her voice echoes through his house as the eggs sizzle on the stove.

“Why is there a small child looking at me?”

“Phoebe, stop staring at her you little creep!”

“She’s so pretty.”

She has a point.

10 minutes later the girls join him in the kitchen, walking in hand in hand and big smiles on their faces. Seeing them get along makes his heart grow approximately 12 sizes. That being said, the two of them teaming up against him sounds like trouble to him. Good trouble though. Trouble he loves to deal with.

“Good morning, Roy.”

“Morning. Pheebs, go sit down, breakfast is almost ready.”

“Okay, Uncle Roy.”

Once she’s out of the immediate earshot he turns back towards (Y/N). Though she tried her best to conceal it, yesterday's makeup is still smudged around her eyes and her hair is a downright mess. She’s wearing his shirt though, standing barefoot in his kitchen after bonding with his niece.

Sometimes life is fucking sweet.

“Don’t look at me like that, I know I look like a mess.”

“I think you’re beautiful.”

“You’re delusional.”

“That’s not what you said last night. Think you called me the fucking dream if I recall correctly. Said you were in love with me.”

(Y/N) leans against the kitchen island, her hands flat against the countertop and her eyes trained on Roy.

“I did say that, didn’t I?”

“Yes.”

Roy mirrors her position, arms resting on the kitchen island across from her. God, she really is so beautiful.

“Remember what you said?”

“Do you?”

“You promised me something, Roy.”

Roy Kent doesn’t make promises lightly. He thinks there’s hardly anything quite as heartbreaking and awful as breaking a promise. He prides himself in keeping all the ones he’s made.

It’s only right to keep this one too.

“Phoebe,” he calls out to the little girl without moving his eyes away from (Y/N) for even a second “Blindfold!”

The 6-year-old slaps her tiny hands over her eyes obeying her uncle's orders with no hesitation and no questions asked. He’s proud of her. Silly little idiot.

Leaning across the counter, his lips almost reach (Y/N)’s. She’s so close. So close.

Only —

“Fuck, I can’t reach. My knee.”

There’s so much love in her eyes as she regards him. It almost knocks him out.

“Don’t worry about it. I’ll meet you halfway,” She says and gets up on her tiptoes.

Across the counter their lips meet. There are no fireworks or butterflies or an angel choir singing. But there is her tasting of toothpaste and smelling his deodorant. Her and the feeling of belonging. Of comfort and domesticity and love. He loves this woman, undeniably and irrevocably.

It’s a great kiss. Fucking mindblowing. There is no need for rom-com-induced fairytale fantasies when you have the real thing and it is so much better than any story could ever be.

“Hey Roy,” she whispers against his lips as they come up for air.

“Hmm?”

“The eggs are burning.”

“Fuck!”

“You owe me a pound, Uncle Roy!”

Irritating! Both of them.

They’re his whole entire heart.

I love you & I love you

“I love you.”

It’s a normal fucking Tuesday when she says it for the first time. Really says it. Using those exact words. There’s nothing special about that day but with those words, she puts magic into it. The way she puts magic into his life every single day.

“Fuck you!”

“Sorry, what?”

She’s laughing. She’s always laughing and smiling that goddamn smile that makes him go all soft inside. Beautiful, lovely, knockout that she is.

“I said fuck you. I’ve been thinking about how to tell you all fucking week and here you go and say it first. You’re infuriating.”

Softly she rolls over so she’s resting on his chest, fingers softly tracing patterns into his skin.

“You’ve said it a million times before, Roy.”

“I love you, (Y/N).”

Can’t hurt to say it again.

“I know. I knew. I always knew. From the moment you gave me your jacket.”

Of course, she knew. She took one look at him and it was like she got a view straight into his soul. Straight into his heart with all the vices and virtues, all his triumphs and defeats. All the good and the bad.

How fucking irritating. He loves her for it.

#roy kent x reader #roy kent x female reader #roy kent x f!reader #roy kent x fem!reader #roy kent fanfic #roy kent fanfiction #roy kent imagine #roy kent imagines #ted lasso tv show fanfiction #inbloomwriting

[ur-dad-satan]

I know it's 8 am right now, HOWEVER, I have headcanons I need to get out of my brain before they're all I can think about... That being said: I have Obey Me! Headcanons about how I think the characters would smell. This is based on sleep deprived delusion and nothing else <3

I feel like most of the characters would wear some type of Cologne or perfume that perfectly encapsulates their personality or vibe. Like I know that's the purpose of Cologne/perfume but hear me out.

Luci would smell like some fancy Cologne with hints of vanilla and maybe even coffee. Not coffee breath, but maybe like his soap smells like coffee or Shea butter.

Mam would smell like an expensive Cologne with some really masculine scent like Cedarwood and like sea breeze or something. OR he would smell like men's deodorant and the smell of the two together would be intoxicating. (I'm getting off topic)

Contrary to popular belief, Levi would smell really good if not clean. Like he would probably smell like some type of soap and maybe sometimes some Ruri themed perfume for special occasions. Aside from that, he would just smell like soap. Maybe sea salt and something else.

Sat would also probably smell like a fancy cologne but I feel like he would also have like undertones of something familiar that you can't put your finger on. It's not indescribable, but it's so hard to pinpoint.

Asmo would smell like some type of fruit perfume or a delicate flower. I feel like he would also almost always use body glitter filled perfume/lotion for special events or when he felt extra pretty.

Beel probably wouldn't wear any perfume/cologne regularly but he never stinks. Not even when he's drenched in sweat; he actually kinda smells sweet. It's a subtle sweetness that you can only smell if he's close enough

Belphie also wouldn't wear cologne/perfume on a regular basis, but he also wouldn't stink. He would probably smell like fresh linens. He wouldn't quite smell like laundry detergent, but fresh sheets and pillowcases. It's a relaxing and comforting smell.

Dia would definitely smell like some fancy cologne. It's probably a gift from Luci that he likes to wear around him the most. I don't know why, but I get cinnamon vibes from him. Like his soap would be cinnamon scented and it gives a slight spice to his not quite savory cologne.

Barbs would smell like tea. He would do this on purpose. So no one can smell the bloodlust he feels for Solomon. I'm thinking like some type of green tea, jasmine tea blend with a hint of vanilla or something else sweet. He takes great pride in how he smells and loves when people complement him on it.

Luke would smell like cupcakes and icing. It's not just cause he's a kid or anything, but he goes out if his way to use sweet smelling products. He likes the way they make him feel and keep his skin soft. Everyone loves it. Not a single person complains.

Sim would smell like something natur-y like flowers or some type of tree. Maybe a nice spring day if that makes sense. This smell would mix with the smell of his deodorant -probably a pretty masculine smelling one- and be heavenly (no pun intended). He would know that he smells good but not how good he smells.

Solo would smell like a nice human world cologne. I feel like he would wear a basic deodorant and let his cologne do all the heavy lifting. It would be something like burning wood or like some type of ocean mist. (Y'all don't know how hard it was to not just tear Solomon a new asshole just then and IDK why)

Being mean to solomon under the line <3

Solomon would wear shower in a can and smell like fucking axe body spray. He almost certainly had a hippy phase in the 60s where he did a LOT of drugs and then he had an emo phase in the 2000s and can most definitely sing the entirety of Welcome to The Black Parade by My Chemical Romance.

#obey me #obey me shitpost #obey me brothers #obey me brainrot #obey me undateables #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me headcanons #obey me diavolo #obey me barbatos #obey me simeon #obey me solomon #obey me luke #obey me asmo #obey me levi #obey me beel #obey me belphie

[ashstfu]

girl i would love and be most grateful to hear your perfume recs and thoughts, if you're willing/able to share <3

hi :) here are some of my faves —

tom ford tobacco vanille – my signature scent! i am so serious this is the best perfume ever. when i say this shit makes me go feral i mean it. i have been stopped on the street wearing this sooo many times. i feel like i could usurp a king. i could fight god etc

maison tahité vicious cacao – the love of my life. i write about it in my diary and dream about it at night. opens with a soupcon of vanilla cake, pepper, boozy rum, and cocoa. soon became salty, chewy, and darkly sweet with less noticeable vanillic tones. has subtle hints of florals, possibly jasmine + the salty caramel note ties everything together and keep the perfume from being overly sweet.

galop d’hermes – ok this one is perfect! but so not easy to get. smells like sophistication, privilege, and arrogance. i don’t believe this is for everyone but if you are a rose & leather enthusiast then it’s phenomenal!

la perla let the dance begin – biggest compliment getter! bulgarian rose, cardamom, patchouli, caramel and sandalwood... so exotic & dreamy. get your nose on this beauty right away

spice must flow etat libre d’orange – it’s a majestic aromatic flow of cinnamon and ginger, with numerous sparks of pepper and a rich incense background. the type of fragrance that leaves the perfect impression without the wearer saying anything, like an effortlessly perfect posture.

giorgio armani ambre eccentrico – stop you dead in your tracks and make you turn around kind of scent. dried fruits, cinnamon, amber accord, tonka bean, patchouli, musk, and plum. mouth watering!

#ask

[mwahkazu]

also. do you think kazhua would be ticklish

-rin

ooo ticklish kazuha? rin really out here feeding into my kazuha brainrots…don’t get me started at 12am now…but i mean if you insist—

incoming (ticklish) bf kazuha headcanons:

as for whether or not kazuha would be ticklish, my answer to that question is, yes…BUT hear me out. let me cook👀

he’s very much a words of affirmation and quality time love language kind of guy for a platonic relationship

but in a romantic setting…oh you’re definitely gonna see some physical touch in there

i feel like hands are a big thing for him like he’s always looking to be holding your hand cause he just loves the feeling

the kind to gently kiss the back of your hand, your fingers, and down to your wrist which for you is admittedly kind of ticklish

not ticklish in a way that has you laughing but the kind that just sends a fluttery feeling all throughout your body

and he of course realizes this very quickly. so what does he do?

playfully teases you w/ it of course

you’ll be in the middle of typing something away on your laptop or writing something, fully immersed in your work

meanwhile kazuha is quietly watching beside you, feeling a bit needy because…archons you’ve been at it for the past hour and haven’t fully acknowledge him since he got home aside from greeting him with a smile

he’ll then do that thing of reaching his hand under yours, stopping you in your typing or if you’re holding a pencil, he’ll replace it with his interlocking your fingers letting the pencil fall

“kazu what’s wrong—” begins to kiss your hand painfully slow (in a good way) and softly starting at your fingertips and gradually working his way down and…oh great, now you’ve lost focus

what about him though? he gets all the fun of teasing the hell out of you with those hand kisses of his

you feel it’s only fair if you did the same. so now it’s your turn

you remember trying to subtly ask him if he was ticklish anywhere playing it off as some random question a friend had asked you

but he saw right through you. laughing softly at your strange but cute behavior, “love, are you trying to ask if i’m ticklish or not?”

damn him and his high sense of awareness

guess it’s time for plan b

at random points throughout the day, you’ll attempt to attack him with tickles. when he’s washing the dishes you’ll sneak up behind him and try to tickle his sides

“hm? yes love, did you need something?” nothing.

or when he’s laying down on the couch reading a book you’ll pretend to just walk by and then try to tickle his stomach but he’ll just look at you with that cute face of his like “…?”

“AHHH THIS IS SO UNFAIR! I HATE YOU!” watches you storm out of the living room a bit dumbfounded

dw he’ll come find you later and get you to stop being grumpy with him by offering to cuddle🥹

but then…that fateful day finally came

the two of you were cuddled up in bed, arms wrapped him as he read his book while brushing your hair that was slowly lulling you to sleep

wanting a more comfortable position, you moved your head away from his chest, now nuzzling into his neck

your small warm breaths hitting his neck, the way your nose softly brushed against his skin…his hand in your hair stopped in its motions.

“hmm…why’d you stop?” you frowned, stirring yourself awake as you moved your head away to look at him and that's when you saw the way his cheeks were now dusted in pink

you’ve found his weakness

now go back to those previous failed attempts of yours and replace them with you going up to him and buying yourself into his neck using the excuse of saying you just love the way he smells when he asks what you’re doing

which was a half truth anyways. he does smell good

idk why but i always imagined his scent to be some combination of vanilla orchid with amber/musk and some jasmine to give it that floral edge (personal hc of mine dont come at me yall)

on days when you were feeling extra mischievous you’d litter his neck with feather light kisses that always has him in a blushing mess

mission success! you finally got your revenge on him >:)

but just as you're about to walk away, feeling fully satisfied with yourself, he grabs your wrist, pulling you right back to him

“you didn't think i’d just let you get away with all the teasing you’ve been doing to me, did you dove?”

OOP…sir-?😳

ahem. soo i’ll leave you all with this cute pic of smiling kazu and your imaginations while i go to sleep for the night😌

#[ ౨ৎ ] — mailbox. #[ ‹𝟹 ] — fontinalia mousse. #when i said let me cook what i actually meant was im making a whole full-course meal #my kazuha brainrots do not mess around guys this is my husband we’re talking about after all #now ​my unintentional little gift to rin🤭 #kazuha x reader #kazuha x you

[cevansbrat0007]

Distant

Summary: Your husband has been pretty neglectful lately. Late nights, cancelled plans, missing dinner. Is it possible that he doesn't want you anymore? Andy Barber x Black Reader

*Warnings: Angst, Fluff, Daddy Kink, Insecure Reader, Angry Reader, Remorseful Andy, Ass Slapping, Smut (implied), Rage Cooking, Minors DNI

A/N: This idea is courtesy of the genius mind of @writer84. Part of my ongoing Growing Pains Series. As always, I’d love your feedback, so please let me know what you think. Semi-proofread. Not beta’d. All mistakes are my own.

___

You blow out a frustrated breath as you end your call with Andy’s assistant, Samantha. Apparently your lunch plans had been canceled. Again. For the fourth freaking time in as many weeks.

And you were extra pissed because your husband of nearly a year hadn’t even had the decency to call you himself. 

He’d been so distant lately and you couldn’t figure out why. So many late nights and missed dinners. Frankly, you were tired of eating alone. And he was always exhausted when got home. It had even been a little while since you’d made love. You’d tried to get something going with him the other night, and he’d turned you down. 

He had turned you down. You’d had your hand down his pants, lightly stroking and squeezing his thick cock, and he’d actually removed it, kissed you on the forehead, and mumbled “not tonight, honey”. You had been shocked. Andy was a man with a voracious appetite. When he was in the mood, and he was almost always in the mood, he was like the goddamned Energizer Bunny. 

The man just kept going, and going, and going…to the point where you had to occasionally beg him for a break. But not lately. It was almost as if he couldn’t be bothered. 

You sniffle and head to the kitchen. When you felt like this there was only one thing that would help, short of smacking your husband in the face. Some people rage cleaned, but you? You rage cooked.  

___

Several hours later…

When it was all said and done, you had a large pot of savory beef stew simmering on the stove and freshly baked biscuits cooling on the counter, along with a lemon pound cake in the oven, and a strawberry cheesecake settling in the fridge. 

And you hoped Andy choked on all of it.

You were not the type of girl to be ignored. And yet that’s what he was doing. So if he was going to ignore you, then you’d ignore him too. You take a sip of the red wine you’d used for the stew, refusing to judge yourself for drinking it straight from the bottle. Your husband was the only man who had the ability to tie you up in knots like this. 

Stupid man. You hoped he stepped in gum. 

If he didn’t want you anymore, if he was done with you, then he would need to tell you to your face, because you did not do hints. 

Gorgeous asshole. You hoped he got a papercut while reviewing legal briefs, and then used hand sanitizer. 

You check on the stew, trying a piece of the beef to check on the tenderness. It falls apart on the fork. Perfect. And the flavor was divine. Ladling some of the broth into a mixing bowl, you go about whisking in some cornstarch before adding it back into the pot and stirring. When you feel like it has achieved its desired thickness, you go ahead and turn it off. 

Now you just had to wait on the cake. And then you would shower. You take a look at the clock. The time read 6:51pm. Okay, so you’d shower and then you would eat. Alone. As per what had become the fucking usual. 

You pull it out of the oven and test its doneness with a toothpick. Crap. It was still a little gooey. Alright, well back in the oven you go dude. You think to yourself, tearing off a sheet of foil to drape over the top of the cake so as to ensure that it didn’t burn. You’d let it go for another ten minutes.

In the meantime, you had a date with the remaining wine left in the bottle next to you. 

___   

Forty minutes later…

You step out of the shower feeling refreshed, courtesy of your Bath & Bodyworks collection. Thanks to them, you smelled like jasmine and vanilla. You rub the same scented body butter into your thirsty skin, wishing that you had a husband here that would do it for you. Andy would do that sometimes.

He took pleasure in applying lotions and butters all over your body. And it always ended up with you speaking in tongues. That man and those hands…they were dangerous. But he wasn’t here, so whatever. 

Pulling on a pair of purple sleep shorts and a pink cami, you head back downstairs to enjoy your stew. As you’d been prepping the dish, you had belatedly realized that you didn’t have any potatoes. So your culinary creation included meat, mushrooms, carrots, and peas. To make up for the absence of carbs, you decided to boil some egg noodles. You’d gone that route before and sometimes, depending on your mood, you enjoyed that option a little bit more. 

Spooning some noodles and a decent portion of hearty stew into a bowl, you head into the living room to watch television. And yes, you had another glass of wine in your hand as well. 

Handsome buttface. You hoped Andy fell down a well so deep that even Lassie couldn’t find him.

In need of a mood boost, you settle on rewatching New Girl. You needed a healthy dose of Winston, Schmidt, Nick, and Coach. And then, you eat. God, this stew is delicious. It’s so freaking yummy that you have a second bowl.

Eventually your husband strolls in just after 8:30pm. Of course he’s on the phone discussing what you assume to be whatever case he’s working on. Andy smiles at your lounging form, leaning down to peck your lips, only to frown when you pull away. 

You wanna greet me, honeypie? Then do it when you’re not on your fucking phone.

You take another bite of your meal and turn your attention back to your show. Nick was currently turning off the sex tap because his girlfriend Jess had become a fake Piston’s fan to bond with a newly returned Coach. 

You’re vaguely aware of when Andy ends his call. “Hi, sweetheart. How are you this evening?”

“Fine,” you mumble as you shovel some more savory, meaty goodness into your mouth.

“Uh, what’s for dinner?” You see him rock on his heels out the corner of your eye.

“Whatever is on the stove.” You respond, your gaze never leaving the TV screen. 

“Okay…any reason for the attitude I’m getting right now?”

“You’re interrupting me while I’m watching my show. If you’re hungry, you know where the kitchen is. You don’t like what’s there, then you can make yourself a sandwich.” There’s an edge to your tone that you can’t quite help.

Andy sighs. “Do you want to maybe talk about whatever seems to be bothering you, Y/N?”

“You’re bothering me. Either go feed yourself or don’t, Andy. I’m busy.” You respond, effectively dismissing him. 

“Look, baby…if this is about lunch…I’m sorry -”

“It’s not about anything. Now please leave me alone, Andrew.” You drain your glass of wine. If you were being honest, you should have just brought the bottle in here with you.

“Can you at least look at me while you tell me to go away?” He growls, clearly irritated with your abrasive behavior. 

“Nope.” You drag a blanket over yourself and go back to nibbling on your food. You hoped that when he reheated his stew, it was too hot and he burned his tongue. 

He pinches the bridge of his nose as he struggles for patience. “You know, Y/N, I really don’t need this from you right now.” You shrug but say nothing. 

You hope he stubbed his baby toe on his way into the kitchen.

“Fine. I’m going to eat something and then take a shower. We’ll discuss this later, okay?” And then he turns and walks away. Grateful  for his departure, you allow yourself to let out the breath you’d been holding.

___

Andy on the other hand is fuming. He knows he’s been working a lot. He knows that he hasn’t been as present as he would have liked, but the case he was working on was a difficult one. Pressure from the community was mounting, and now his wife was pissed at him. Swear to god, he honestly felt like he could not catch a goddamned break. 

Did he like canceling on his baby girl? No. Did he owe her some make-up dates? Absolutely. Maybe I should tell her that, he thinks. When he could be sure that you wouldn’t lob some hard object at his face. 

Andy groans when he takes the lid off the pot. Fuck, his lady had made beef stew. He loved anything she made, but he positively adored her beef stew. He loads up a bowl with noodles and all of the fixings and then grabs a biscuit. And then he notices that there’s an iced pound cake sitting in the cake dish. Uh oh.

Bracing himself, he opens the refrigerator and sees the cheesecake. Holy fuck. He sighs and scrubs a hand over his tired face. His wife had been rage cooking, which meant she really was upset. Yep, he was in trouble.

The last time his sweet girl had rage cooked, he’d come home to the equivalent of a tiny Thanksgiving dinner. And then she had chucked a gravy spoon at him. Thank god, his wife couldn’t aim worth a damn. Otherwise he was pretty sure that he would’ve gone to work the next day with a considerable lump on his forehead. 

Andy eats his meal with gusto, savoring the flavor of the meat and vegetables over the noodles. He occasionally dunks his biscuit into the gravy. Fuck, not only was his wife beautiful and smart, but she was a fucking amazing cook. She was the reason he worked out every day. If he didn’t he would’ve gained a good hundred pounds by now, at least. 

Once he’s finished, he rinses out his bowl and places it in the dishwasher. And then he puts away the food. Look, he knew he had to earn brownie points however and wherever he could. 

And then Andy jogs up the stairs for a quick shower, mentally steeling himself for the fact that he was going to have to fight his wife. His woman was small, but she was squirrely. And she wasn’t above pinching and biting when she was in a mood. 

When he’s showered and dressed, he takes a deep breath before venturing downstairs to get his girl. He knew you both needed to talk, but you’d be doing it in bed.

___

“Hi baby.” You hear your husband’s deep baritone. “Ready for bed?” No, you had just made it to Jess’ birthday episode. You loved this episode.

“Could’ve sworn I asked you to leave me alone, Andy.” You go to reach for your glass once again, only to realize you were out of wine. “I’m fine where I’m at.”

“No. Your place is in bed with me. I’m not going to sleep without you.” His words prompt you to snuggle even deeper into the couch. 

“Y/N.” He growls softly. “I know I haven’t been the most attentive lately, okay? And I’m sorry. I promise I will fix it. Let’s just go to bed and talk. Please?” You turn up the volume to tune out his sexy, pleading voice. 

“Damn it, Y/N. I’m acknowledging that I’m in the wrong here. Let’s go cuddle. I already put the food away and everything. It was delicious by the way, as always.” He hated whenever you refused to look at him. 

“I’m sleeping here tonight, you jackwagon. I don’t need your pity cuddles. If you’re tired of me, then just say it already. And stop using your secretary to do it. It’s going to get you both punched in the eye.” You huff. Ahh, fuck. You’d said more than you’d meant to say.

Your husband lets out an angry snarl before snatching the remote from the coffee table and turning off the TV. You turn to yell at him, only for him to grab you from your perch and sling you over his broad shoulder.

“Let me go, you fucking animal!” You shriek as he carries you up the stairs. “I’m serious, you ass, put me the fuck down now!” Your tiny fists beat on his back in protest. 

“That little massage feels good, baby. Kinda tickles.” 

“Damn you, Andy!” You smack his shapely ass as hard as you can, which prompts him to return the favor, making you yip. 

He dumps you on the bed and quickly climbs on top of you, using his big body to keep you still. You go to slap him but his hands capture yours. And then suddenly one of his big hands is holding both of yours in a solid grip above your head. 

“I’m sorry, baby.” He presses sweet, loving kisses to every inch of your face, whether you want them or not. “I love you. I want you. I need you.”

“Stop it!” You wail.

“No.” He growls against your neck. “Never. I’ve been a bad husband and a bad Daddy. I see that now.”

“Let me fix it. Let me tell you what’s going on so I can fix it, baby girl.” You try to look away but his free hand grips your chin, forcing you to face him.

“You haven’t been present in ages.” You hiss at him. “And you suddenly want to be here now? Our relationship is not a fucking hotel, Andrew. You don’t get to just check-in and check-out whenever you please.” You struggle against his hold. 

“I know that, sweetheart. I do.” He nuzzles his nose against yours. “And I’m sorry. I’ll do better. I promise I’ll start talking about what I’m dealing with.”

“I don’t think I believe you.” You whisper. Your husband sighs before resting his head in between your breasts. “I don’t trust that you’ll let me in the way I need you to.” 

“I get it, and I deserve that. But I can and I will. I will talk to you, Y/N.” He murmurs against your heated flesh. “Let me make love to you, honey. Let Daddy get you all settled down so we can talk.” He sucks at your nipple through the thin fabric of your cami, making your hips buck.

“Sex doesn’t solve everything.” You tell him, trying to control yourself. 

“I know it doesn’t. But Daddy knows when he needs to soothe his baby. And that’s what I’m going to do.” His hand slides inside of your shorts. “Let me make it better. I swear I’ll make it all better.”

You whimper as he finds your clit, his fingers rubbing in a slow, tantalizing fashion.

“Daddy’s got this, baby. All you’ve got to do is trust me.”

END

#chris evans #andy barber #chris evans smut #andy barber smut #chris evans black!reader #andy barber black!reader #chris evans woc!reader #andy barber woc!reader #chris evans imagines #andy barber imagines #chris evans fanfiction #andy barber fanfiction

[azulock]

what they smell like

I was made to spend one hour walking the mall with a friend for him to choose a perfume, so thank his indecisive ass for this. Anyway, here, perfume choice headcanons for the guys, cause smell is a love language if you are weird enough for it.

Mikage Reo

Let's face it, he is ultra rich, got that generational wealth, so he has a library of perfumes and colognes, and all the best hair and skin products, so he smells good all the time. Will vary the perfume according to occasion, season, time of the day, if he is gonna be indoors or outdoors and such. Doesn't try to keep to a type of smell, or specific notes, his brand is more about general vibes. Low key always wearing expensive shit, even though it may smell simple.

I think on his daily life he'd wear something floral and herbal, slightly sweet, like jasmine, lemon grass, some watery notes. Now for perfume itself, for warmer days it'd be something with marine and citric notes, like ambergris and lemon, it gives an ocean freshness that matches the season. And for colder days it'd be something woody, smokey, and a bit sweet, so like oud and vanilla, and maybe some amber to make it warm and deep.

For curiosity, ambergris and oud are some of the most expensive shit you can put in a perfume, so is real jasmine.

Nagi Seishiro

Has whatever Reo buys him, and only uses perfume when he has to. Only reason he doesn't smell like Axe is because Reo got rid of that shit and stockpiled him with better smelling body spray and high quality soap bars. Probably receives Reo's hand me downs, but some smells he considers too strong so he doesn't use.

Likes to smell like water, and my e a bit citric - reminds him of lemon tea. Probably smells like seawater and wood on a daily basis, maaaaybe a bit of mint, he smells like a little ship drifting in the waves, very chill. As for perfume, for sure picks one thing and sticks to it, again water, but now with lemon, and mandarin, and maybe amber underneath, has the slightest kick, but still chill.

Shidou Ryusei

Looks like he wouldn't care, but he does, and smelling just right without giving away that he cares is a conscious effort. Aware enough to have like a winter and summer perfume, but probably sticks to the same cologne all year round, or at most he'll have a second one. He tries to stay on brand with his smell, and it definitely does give off the same vibe as him.

His cologne is probably earthy and spicy, and maybe a bit floral, so like, cinnamon and cloves, and flowers like iris or magnolia. It projects the same fire his personality has but with no way the same intensity. For the perfumes it just takes that basis and ramps it up, for warmer days it's something more earthy and floral, so like spices and iris or carnation, with maybe metallic notes to give it a punch. For colder days he leans more into spicy and woody, with peppers, sandalwood and patchouli, with some leather thrown in there and maybe incense.

Sendo Shuto

He tries very hard, may not have PhD levels of understanding but he understands enough. A little afraid of venturing too much, but probably has two perfumes and a couple of colognes. The colognes probably keep a more low-key vibe while the perfumes venture out just a bit. Overall, likes smelling fresh and clean. Probably stopped relying on deodorants when he noticed Oliver doesn't.

His cologne is like a fresh out of the bath smell, but all day - find you a man who smells clean. So water notes, a bit floral, like jasmine or lavender, and citric like lemon. The perfume doesn't stray too far from that, just variations on a theme. I think they'd all have that rain smell, like ozone, but he'd have a warmer one - which leans more into woods, like oak, and a bit of leather; and a fresher one - which leans into the citric aspect, like grapefruit and mandarin, and maybe a hint of coconut to make it a tiny bit sweet.

Oliver Aiku

Red flag, professional fuckboy. Learned enough to always smell nice, cause he never knows when he might need to shoot his shot. He knows a good smell makes for a nice first impression, leaves a mark on someone's memory and makes them want to be closer to you, so he always makes full effort. Will have multiple colognes and a couple of perfumes, divides them by season and that's enough for him. He does have a specific type of smell he sticks to, and sadly it's all the red flag ones - never trust a guy who wears musk.

His cologne is going to be earthy, warm and welcoming, it smells like sandalwood and oak moss, with something of leather and even notes of water. Now for perfumes he is pulling in the red flag smell: musk. For the warmer days he is going to pull that fresh rain and marine smell, with a bit of spices, like ginger or cardamom, but the leather and musk are still there in the background. Now, for colder days he lays more on the woody and sweet smells, like oak and cedar, as well as honey and vanilla, the leather and musk still hold strong in there too, might have some smokey notes or even whiskey notes too if he wants something extra.

#bllk x reader #blue lock x reader #oliver aiku x reader #ryusei shido x reader #seishiro nagi x reader #mikage reo x reader #sendo shuto x reader #there was a chigiri and kunigami ones but it became too much let me know if you'd like those

[the-cat-and-the-birdie]

Here ye, hear ye! I do declare I headcanon

Hobie ALWAYS smells good asf

Without exception.

It's something you can always notice, because every day he smells slightly different. But always good.

It's on purpose.

I mean, look at all his accessories and clothes - he probably has a nightstand piled high with spiked bracelets and studded chokers and silver rings. And right next to his accessories - is his cologne collection.

Some bottles are older, half filled bottles of vintage finds he loves. Others are newer, fancier - ones knicked from high end shops. If he smells it, and likes it, he takes it.

His favorite are the woody, smoky, spiced smells. Like sandalwood or cognac. Things that smell like shag carpets and roaring fireplaces.

Sometimes he may be in the mood for something a bit sweeter, so sometimes he'll of dark chocolate, or maple syrup, or chai.

The most common ones are surprisingly fruity.

Hobie often smells of cherries. Dark, deep maroon cherries, the kind with sweet dark juice. Others, on more playful days - green apple, a little bit tart but still fresh.

I Hc he likes candy too, and is constantly popping jolly ranchers. Sometimes you can hear it when he's eating one, the quiet clacking of it - and the faint scent of blue raspberry, or super sweet watermelon.

When it comes to Spider Senses, I like to think Hobie is a sensory seeker.

He likes loud music and big speakers and heavy, layered clothes. He's likes strong sounds and scents, bright colors, and interesting textures. And cologne is one of his favorite parts of an outfit -

Cause he does consider it just that - apart of the outfit. Don't let Mr.'Cool This Whole Time' fool you - he thinks about outfits. Hobie really enjoys putting them together.

He's actually into fashion - just not in the industrial consumerist way most assume. But he still loves matching pieces, making them, putting together fits. And he never leaves the house without some fragrance.

It REALLY adds to the appeal.

Diane's trying to talk to him about work when they first meet and she's already nervous

and then she's can't help but notice and be like 'oh- WOW, you smell good. Heh. wOW. Sorry. Sorry. I just did not expect you to smell like cherry blossoms-'

'....thanks-'

'oh goodness, wait a minute, that's not it. I - I don't even think I could place that scent-'

She's standing there in the middle of the hall smelling Hobie - train of thought derailed the tracks and rolling down a mountainside, Miguel's work forgotten

Hobie goes 'its jasmine, really. Jasmine and saffron'

Diane's like 'JASMINE AND SAFFRON??? Boy. whatchu know about some Jasmine Saffron!'

Cause how dare he. How dare he be that fine. It's not okay. How can she live her life in these conditions?

She goes to tell Margo like 'Girl!! Did you know Hobie wears cologne?!' and Margo is like

'... Sis I'm not even physically here what makes you think I can smell'

Even Miguel notices after a while.

It's a group meeting, and he's lost in thought as he rambles off another plan, pacing back and forth.

He stops suddenly when something comes to mind.

'Who's that? Whereas that smell coming from? It smells like Horchata in here. Who was drinking Horchata??'

Cause if someone was drinking Horchata he wants some. Undebatable.

Half the room is like what the hell is Horchata???

Miguel's like 'it's cinnamon and rice and vanilla - it's a Mexican drink, alright. WHO WAS DRINKING IT.'

Hobie raises his hand and Miguel's like 'Not now, Brown. We're talking about something important.'

Hobies like 'Bruv it's me. I ain't drink it I just smell like it-'

Of course Miguel is calling bullshit cause he's sure Hobie is fucking with him until he goes over and Miguel's thinking 'oh fuck he does 😳🤨 que diablos???'

But he just looks down at Hobies smug ass face and he's like '.... As you were, 138.' before trying to act like nothing ever happened 😭😭

I think to think Hobie Brown is just That Smooth

The good looks ain't by accident he is BROKE, PUNK, and HIGH MAINTENANCE

#normalize mentioning your OC's like canon characters without warning #spiderman #atsv #spider man #marvel #across the spiderverse #hobie brown #spider punk #miguel o'hara #spiderpunk #miguel ohara #hobie x oc #hobie brown x oc

[00belle00lovely00]

Well, since poly ships are now an option, curious to see how you'd view DogDay x CatNap x CraftyCorn 🫢

(I don't personally ship those three together btw. Just curious 🧡💜🤍)

OH! OF COURSE! I've noticed as of late that this ship in particular is VERY popular.

And yes! Poly ships are very much welcome since I'm poly myself. And to be completely honest with you, the majority of the ships I mention don't specifically fall into my favourites, but boneless I still love these concepts you'll give me! Hey, even you could say it helps me improve my writing skills!

🧡💜🤍☀️🌙🎨🧡💜🤍☀️🌙🎨🧡💜🤍☀️🌙🎨🧡💜🤍☀️

PLEASE... BY ALL MEANS.... THIS SHIP GOTTA BE CALLED FLOWER BOUQUET. IT'S LITERALLY THREE TYPES OF FLOWER SCENTS IN A SINGLE SHIP. Wait is vanilla a flower?- no?- yes?- no?- eh. Same thing

shy x extrovert x introvert

Wouldn't it be downright hilarious to picture Catnap and Dogday being Craftycorn's muses for paintings? IT'S A CUTE CONCEPT, YOU ALL KNOW IT.

Could we all just agree that she carries and costume-made diary everywhere she goes?

Both Dogday and Catnap in my head would've probably intimidated yet striked Craftycorn's interest in every way. Catnap, even though somewhat too quiet or too lazy to go on with the day, is a very calming type of person who rarely gets angry at others or anything for that matter. And as for Dogday he's legitimately a sunrise and smiles kind of active guy, which in a way Craftcorn found them both endearing. And BECAUSE of that, she would've had a crush on them both at the same time and battled with her own feelings the whole time in who she liked the most, or in some way, even hoped she didn't since her nerves would be the end of her.

Craftycorn would too take her feelings out in drawing, just like in anything for that matter, and what would be her biggest fear? Catnap and Dogday seeing the things she has drawn at the end of the sketchbook.... don't ask what it is. We all know what it is.

Their date? Literally a cosy sleepover.

Their favorite activity? STARGAZING!

Wanna know what's ironic? While Craftycorn would be all insecure and overthinking about the whole situation, Dogday and Catnap would be noticing these patterns of nervousness and literally girl failure, and start to equally agree that they find that strangely attractive. And amusing. But that's Catnap talking.

They both also think she's pretty as hell.

And yes. they talk about it all the time because ✨communication and consent is the best romantic gesture✨

Even though Craftycorn is a very shy and soft-spoken girl, she's SURPRISINGLY VERY capable of defending herself and others she really cares about. And I'm talking both verbally and physically. She'd be able to pull out a punch on whoever complains about ANYTHING related to Catnap, Dogday or even her. You go, girl!

Okay... actually, changed my mind. She would do it but feel INCREDIBLY guilty later.

They watch My Little Pony and Carebears together on a date. Change my mind.

Could you all imagine how GOOD it would smell the air of their houses was every time they hung out? Like- you're telling me the air would be jasmine scented on one corner, vanilla to the other, and then lavender in every cushion? MY GOD.

I wonder if they do PDA. Craftycorn and Catnap would be most likely to do it but very lowly (like holding hands or wrapping an arm with each other), while for Dogday he would WANT TO... buuut he doesn't want to cross boundaries. So he'd keep it to himself. And probably crying inside not to pounce on top of the two of them into a tight hug.

They love it when Catnap helps them to sleep, especially lullabies.

OH IMAGINE THIS. What if Craftycorn knew Spanish and called Catnap "Lunita" (little moon) and Dogday "solsito" (little sun). NO- IM-... IM NOT SAYING THIS BECAUSE I'M HISPANIC AND I ADORE HEADCANON CHARACTERS THAT RELATE TO MY COUNTRY- THAT IS NOT-

Okay, that or "my sunshine" and "my twilight". IT'S CUTE OKAY- I KNOW IT'S CORNY BUT WE GOTTA LOVE CORNINESS FROM SOMEONE WHO DOESN'T SHOW IT MUCH

(for context to the next headcanons):

Catnap in my own interpretation is a selective mute. All due to the 'red smoke incident' that occurred a few nights ago. He was so terrified of how not only his lavender gas was transported into that horrendous gas that made his friends laugh ever so hysterically and dementedly, but his body acted in a way that made no sense whatsoever. His movements were strange, creepy, and terrifying. So much so that it scared Catnap beyond thought. Even though all argued that it was just a 'collective nightmare' they had due to the circumstances of the storm. It didn't change anything Catnap went through. Everything he saw...

And at the end of the day, he decided to make a silent vow. Where he wouldn't let that smoke ever come out of his mouth again, even if it cost never to open his mouth. Never to speak again.

Why all that lore dump? WELL. IMAGINE. CATNAP KNOWING ASL/SIGN LANGUAGE. IT IS THE COOLEST THING EVER.

DogDay and Craftycorn after hearing about Catnap's vow, they were EXTREMELY worried about him. On some occasions, they tried to speak some sense into him about the mere thought of never talking again, but at the end of the day, they had to respect Catnap's decision. SO IN EXCHANGE, THEY WANTED TO LEARN ASL TOO! AND IT IS SUPER CUTE AND- KAINFIYLIAHDFCHASKDCFHNAKSJDCFHALNKUH-

Craftycorn also thought of teaching Catnap how to draw, with of course Dogday coming in to learn well. Since it was an alternative and temporary idea on communication while everyone else was catching up on Bubba's lessons on ASL.

OH NO... CRAFTYCORN- I JUST REALIZED SHE DOESN'T HAVE FINGERS- SHE HAS HOOVES! THEREFORE SHE CAN'T THEORETICALLY DO ASL. OML SHE'D BE ASHAMED ASF.😭

For some reason, singing doesn't accidentally make the scents of any of the Smiling Critters out of their mouths. So whenever Catnap can, he tries to open up from his comfort zone (with the encouragement of the others) to sing them to sleep with a nice lullaby.

🧡💜🤍☀️🌙🎨🧡💜🤍☀️🌙🎨🧡💜🤍☀️🌙🎨🧡💜🤍☀️

I swear to god my AO3 fans are out for blood now. They probably gonna be mad asf if they find out I'm wasting so much time on this than the fanfic chapter I'm writing.

EVEN MORE NOW DUDE- THEY GONNA FIND OUT I WANNA WRITE ANOTHER FANFIC 😭

THIS IS GONNA END UP LIKE WHEN I HAD MY WATTPAD ACCOUNT... PLEASE... MERCY ON ME YALL... MERCY

#poppy playtime #poppy playtime chapter 3 #poppy playtime 3 #catnap #dogday #smiling critters #craftycorn #DogDay x CatNap x CraftyCorn #Craftycorn x CatNap x Dogday #Catnap x Dogday x CraftyCorn #Craftycorn x Dogday x Catnap #DogDay x Craftycorn x Catnap #Catnap x CraftyCorn x Dogday #craftycorn x dogday #dogday x craftycorn #Craftycorn x Catnap #catnap x craftycorn #dogday x catnap #catnap x dogday #STOP UNDERRATED SHIPS #the sillies #so sweet

[grantspectortrash]

Lover Boy

Pairing: Jake Lockley x Reader

Summary: Jake goes on a mission for Khonshu and he’s away for months. You knew the deal when you became his girlfriend, it would never be easy. Now, he's come home.

Warnings/tags: Mentions of Jake's mission like murder etc and a bit of angst at the beginning, but no other scary things! Just fluff, cuteness & little implied smut at the end (but not 18+ so dw)

Word Count: 1.7k

A/N: ok this has been in my drafts for WEEKS bc I just wasn't sure if people had left their moon knight era already but hopefully not. Enjoy babies <3 any requests lmk!!

-

Jake is in the shower. Your apartment has become a bombsite since he returned only two hours ago. His bloody clothes are strewn across your sofa, his bag - full of god knows what - is on your coffee table and a broken vase lays shattered on the floor.

In truth, the vase was your fault. Jake had been gone months on a mission he could tell you nothing about. You hadn't had contact with him the entire time and, quite frankly, you were beginning to wonder if maybe this time being Khonshu's bitch just hadn't worked out. The big bird had used Jake for all he was worth and that was it - end of the line.

So, when he knocked on your door as casually as a pizza delivery guy, you had flipped your lid. Of course you were happy to see your boyfriend, but you were also fuming. You had screamed at him, and hugged him, and kissed him and then thrown something at him.

He understood. He knew how hard this life was on you. And despite the yelling and the vase, he was happy to be home. Now, he's enjoying the luxuries of being at home, washing all the dirt and blood off his body and using your vanilla and jasmine scented body wash. And you're in shock.

"The vase. Clean up the vase." You whisper to yourself. Luckily there isn't even any flowers in the vase, so the clean up is easy. The only time there were flowers in the vase was when Jake was home.

You sweep up the ceramic pieces and tip them into the bin. You'll just have to get a new vase, whatever. It shouldn't even bother you, seeing those pieces all smashed up, but it does. And when you close the lid of the bin, you cry.

At first just quietly, then, great heaving sobs. It's a mix of relief and pain and all your emotions congeal into one. You think of how many nights you spent alone, worried sick out of your mind. You think of your last date with Jake, and how wonderful it was, before Khonshu appeared and ripped him away from you. You think of the guy that tried to hit on you at work and you had to reject him - "Why though? I never see your boyfriend. He obviously doesn't love you."

That comment had hurt, and there was nothing you could do about it. You carried your hurt around for months - to work, to dinner with friends, when you were alone. And now, you let it out.

You make your way to the bathroom and rap your knuckles against the door. The water shuts off immediately. You hear Jake shuffling about in there, and then the door opens.

In the months that he's been away he's grown a beard, and his hair is grown-out and wild. You hadn't seen him like this before, and it takes some getting used to.

He's got a towel wrapped around the bottom half of his body and his top half is still glistening wet. Drips of water fall from his hair onto his shoulders.

Jake takes one look at you crying and pulls you into a hug, "Come here, I'm here now. I'm home. Estoy en casa, understand?"

You nod into the crook of his neck. He's warm against your skin and you don't care about getting wet because your tears have already dampened your cheeks and they're beginning to pool in Jake's collar bones.

He pulls away and takes your face in his hands, gently wiping your tears from your face. "I couldn't be happier to be home, bebita. Please stop crying. You've got me now, I'm back."

"I know." You sniffle, actively ignoring his longing gaze, "I know."

"Look at me." He turns your face with his hand and you do as he says. You can't help but smile, and he gives you a smile back. It's something you've missed, seeing him look at you like that, and your heart melts. You reach up to touch his beard, all soft and damp from the shower.

"I can't believe how much you've changed. I've missed you."

Without hesitating, Jake scoops you up into his arms. You make a squeak of surprise, but just laugh as he carries you into the bedroom.

"I've missed you too." He winks at you and kisses you on the cheek before setting you down on the bed.

The room has barely changed since the last time he was there; everything was exactly where he had left them the night he had to leave, but one of his hoodies is on the bed - one that you wore to sleep practically every night.

Jake smiles at the sight of it, and puts it on. You start to protest, claiming it's yours now.

"Hey, it smells like you. And it's mine. I'm wearing it." Jake is firm, but there's a smirk on his face, letting you know he enjoys the fact you've been wearing his clothes.

He takes the towel off and puts on clean underwear and comfy bottoms. You watch the entire time, mesmerised.

"I'm so lucky to have you. I don't know what I would've done if-"

You don't finish the sentence, but you don't have to. Jake knows what you're trying to say. He sits beside you on the bed and takes your hand, placing a kiss on your knuckles.

"Don't, princesa. I will always come back to you. Nobody will stop me from getting back to you. Not Khonshu, not nobody. Yeah?"

"Yeah." You nod.

Jake slowly wraps his arms around you and shuffles towards the top of the bed so his head rests against the pillows. You rest against his chest. Your legs intertwine with his and he sneaks a hand under your top to feel your skin against his. You run a hand through his hair and brush your palm against his beard.

You stay that way for a long time, not even saying anything. Usually, when Jake came home after a mission he would pounce on you immediately. And you would love every minute of it. He was intense and sexy and everything you had missed while he was away, he would give to you. Over and over. But this time was different. Jake had never been gone this long and this time he was gentle. Caring. He was more vulnerable.

"What happened? While you were away?" Your voice is barely a whisper. You don't want to make him uncomfortable, but you also want to know.

"Bad things. If I say too much...Khonshu...he'll make my life worse. He made me do things, Y/N. More shit than ever and...it's fine, y'know? Better me than Marc or Steven." He sighs, running one hand over his face, "I have blood on my hands and it was a mistake. Khonshu is in some deep cagada and made me hurt the wrong people...kill the wrong people. Innocent people. And all that time...it was too much. Even for me." Jake whispers back to you, the entire time rubbing his hand against your back in slow circles.

There's a tightness in his voice, and you can tell he doesn't want to say anymore. Perhaps can't say anymore.

"Steven and Marc, they've had it rough." Jake is absentmindedly moving his fingers back and forth against your skin, and you can tell he's feeling agitated. "I'm giving them the time they need but fuck, it's bad, baby. So bad."

"You're home now." You don't know what else to say. "You're home."

One of your hands is in Jake's hair and the other rests on his chest. You can hear his heart beating and he feels warm against you. Without thinking, you roll on top of him and straddle him around his waist. You plant both hands on the side of his face, his beard scratching at the palms of your hands, and you kiss him. Hard.

"No matter what happens," You say, barely pulling away from him. Your lips graze each others as you talk, "I will always be waiting for you. I will always be here for you."

"Ah, mi querida, what would I do without you?" He's looking up at you with that gorgeous smile, perfect teeth and rosy lips surrounded by his new, full beard. You can't ignore how there's a new scar, fully healed, on top of his left eyebrow.

"You'd crash and burn, pretty boy. Crash and burn." You reach a hand up to tentatively run a finger against the scar, Jake catches your hand and hold's it to his own. He brings your intertwined hands to his mouth and kisses the back of yours.

"Pretty boy?" He raises an eyebrow, the one without a scar, and smirks at you. It makes you laugh, harder than you've laughed in months, and you finally realise he's home. No more crying yourself to sleep, no more wishing and waiting to hear from him. No more nights watching reruns of shows alone or cooking meals for one - he's home and you can finally laugh again.

"Yeah, pretty boy." You smile at him, and when you've finally had enough of straddling him, you slide off to one side and cuddle into him. He wraps an arm around you and plants a kiss on your forehead.

"Pretty boy, gorgeous boy, my one and only boy," You continue, poking Jake on the nose with every single example, "My lover boy."

You go to poke Jake again, but this time he grabs your wrist at lightning speed and suddenly you're moving - Jake's settling you down on your back and he’s hovering over you with that sparkle in his eye that lets you know he's glad to be home too. Glad to be with you once again.

"Lover boy, huh?" There's a playful smile on his lips and he dips down to place kisses on your cheeks and on your neck.

"Mhhm." Your voice is already breathy - you'd forgotten what it felt like to be underneath Jake, but it doesn't take you long to remember. "My lover boy."

He nips at the base of your neck then, an action that catches you off guard and leaves your heart racing. You decide then and there that you're not letting another minute go to waste. Jake is home and he is yours and that's all you ever need.

-

@later-gators12 @dopeqff @alicetweven @toracainz @bristark616 @insomniacfigure @allthingsvicf @leh2393 @minetticatinwonderland @elles-mind-palace @christineblood @fandxmslxt69 @sir-knight-slytherdor

#moon knight #moon knight x reader #moon knight fanfiction #jake lockley #jake lockely x reader #jake lockely x you #mcu moon knight #steven grant #marc spector

[journalofanoldsoul]

Women Perfume Recommendations

Here are some perfume recommendations based on the main character traits associated with each Venus sign (Natal Chart) :

Venus in Aries: A bold and energetic sign, Venus in Aries women are confident and assertive. They can try fragrances with vibrant and spicy notes such as cinnamon, ginger, and pepper. A recommendation would be "Spicebomb" by Viktor & Rolf.

Venus in Taurus: Known for their sensuality and love for luxury, Venus in Taurus women appreciate earthy and indulgent scents. Look for perfumes with notes of rose, vanilla, and musk. A recommendation would be "Flowerbomb" by Viktor & Rolf.

Venus in Gemini: Venus in Gemini women are curious and social butterflies. They enjoy playful and versatile scents that can transition from day to night. Look for fragrances with fruity and citrusy notes like grapefruit, bergamot, and mandarin. A recommendation would be "Daisy" by Marc Jacobs.

Venus in Cancer: Nurturing and romantic, Venus in Cancer women are drawn to soft and comforting scents. Look for fragrances with notes of jasmine, white flowers, and vanilla. A recommendation would be "La Vie Est Belle" by Lancôme.

Venus in Leo: Dramatic and confident, Venus in Leo women love to make a statement. They can try bold and luxurious scents with notes of amber, oud, and warm spices. A recommendation would be "Black Orchid" by Tom Ford.

Venus in Virgo: Practical and refined, Venus in Virgo women appreciate clean and fresh scents. Look for perfumes with notes of citrus, lavender, and green tea. A recommendation would be "Light Blue" by Dolce & Gabbana.

Venus in Libra: Known for their sense of balance and harmony, Venus in Libra women gravitate towards elegant and romantic scents. Look for perfumes with notes of rose, jasmine, and soft musk. A recommendation would be "Chloé" by Chloé.

Venus in Scorpio: Intense and mysterious, Venus in Scorpio women prefer rich and seductive scents. Look for fragrances with notes of dark fruits, patchouli, and leather. A recommendation would be "Black Opium" by Yves Saint Laurent.

Venus in Sagittarius: Adventurous and free-spirited, Venus in Sagittarius women enjoy energetic and exotic scents. Look for perfumes with notes of citrus, spices, and woody undertones. A recommendation would be "Gypsy Water" by Byredo.

Venus in Capricorn: Timeless and sophisticated, Venus in Capricorn women appreciate classic and refined scents. Look for fragrances with notes of bergamot, vetiver, and sandalwood. A recommendation would be "Coco Mademoiselle" by Chanel.

Venus in Aquarius: Unique and unconventional, Venus in Aquarius women are drawn to avant-garde and futuristic scents. Look for perfumes with notes of lavender, mint, and metallic accents. A recommendation would be "Alien" by Mugler.

Venus in Pisces: Dreamy and romantic, Venus in Pisces women prefer soft and ethereal scents. Look for fragrances with notes of water lily, white musk, and gentle florals. A recommendation would be "J'adore" by Dior.

Remember, personal scent preferences can vary, so it's always best to sample perfumes and choose the one that resonates with you the most.

I hope you have enjoyed this selection. Let me know what's your venus sign and favourite perfume.

Stay tune for more astro posts…

xoxo J.

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[mrsdesade]

silly date with the God of Mischief (headcanons part.1)

Timeline: before and during Thor Ragnarok

TW: no one/ just fluff

Pairing: Loki x fem!y/n

Note: this is my first time posting my stuff like this please be kind, English isn't even my native language so I'm trying my best; hope you enjoy 💚

first of all, he's THE gentleman par excellence, from your first meeting until your relationship becomes official

he's the one who always listen to you without judging even If you did the most horrendous and atrocious things

he loves teasing and moking you sometimes, but absolutely in a lovely way

HOLDING YOUR HAND everywhere, everytime, always, in private, in public

his main love language is physical contact

if you decide to bring him to the Earth sometimes, he's not used to the human customs and traditions so the situation might become quite funny

on a coffee shop date he let you decide for him because he might feel disorientated, he's gonna love the jasmine green tea with vanilla you ordered for him

all the humans around are probably looking at him because...well... you're dating the man who attempted to conquer the planet many times

but he doesn't care so much, he has only eyes for you

"humans are so strange... don't get my wrong you're incredibile,but them...uh."

"Loki, you know that I'm not a human."

"oh yes, right, sometimes I forget that." (liar, he knows everything about you)

MATCHING OUTFITS, he offers to buy some clothes that resemble and match with his black suit

be ready to have a full wardrobe of luxury brand and a lots of jewelry made with Asgardian gold (and filled with his magic)

you can make fun of him calling him sugar daddy because he always pay everything for you and of course he doesn't understand the joke

"did you call me...sugar...what?"

on Asgard he loves looking at you with their traditional clothes on when you're walking in the Palace, without saying nothing, just admiring you

he never admit that but he find so funny when you're trying to read the Asgardian language on his books (he's definitely making fun of you when you misspelled something)

he read poetry and poems for you

he show you little magic tricks for everyday little things

If you can use magic or you have specific abilities he's 100% interested on learning more about you and studying your powers

ask you to exercise with him for learning using his knifes

wants you to feel secure and protected, always

at the night he loves staying with you besides the lit fireplace when there's a thunderstorm outside

he hides his spicy thoughts really well (maybe I can do here a specific post)

"close your eyes, I'll be here until you fall asleep; you don't have to pay attention to anything except my voice and my embrace, goodnight my dear."

For now we're done! Hope you enjoyed and as well I hope to being able to do a part two really soon 💚

Kisses~

#loki laufeyson #loki series #loki #loki x reader #loki x y/n #loki x you #loki headcanons #loki fanfic #loki fandom #marvel fanfiction #marvel #my post #writing #loki fluff