#'Eric! He was my friend! My roommate! ... I didn't realize know her.'

[the-halfling-prince]

vote And Then There Was Shawn plsssssssss y'all

DESCRIPTIONS:

Shawn goes under cover as Veronica, the new girl in town, to research an article on sexual harassment.

Shawn turns his attention to a new girl (Jennifer Love Hewitt) at school.

[muddyorbsblr]

a startling realization pt1

See my full list of works here!

Summary: Oakley returns to campus after a trip with his mates and steadily comes to realize he's developed feelings for you

Pairing: Oakley x Reader

Word Count: 3.9k

Warning/s: frat boy friends vibes; bit of angst; probably not a completely accurate referencing to the events of 'Unrelated' [let me know if I missed anything!]

Things to be aware of: prequel piece to 'just another memory' but can be read alone; Oakley is a SIMP in the making for Reader

There'd been a strange sinking feeling in Oakley's stomach since he and his mates hit the road back to Cambridge. It was the kind that he'd only ever felt when he knew he'd done something that could get his mother cross at him and she and his father would impose some form of punishment on him. Perhaps revoke his cell phone for a week so he couldn't join his friends on their regular scheduled shenanigans. Or chat up some stunner that he'd met the week prior.

But things were different now. He was no longer bound by their rules for the most part. He was free to do whatever he wished and this trip to Italy was the perfect showcase of that new dynamic. All he had to do was get his degree and get a job, and he would still have their support and financial aid so that he wouldn't have to stay at the dorms or even have to tough it out with a roommate that might not approve of the way he lived day in day out.

The only person keeping him in check now was himself, and as far as he was concerned, there was nothing he'd done in Italy that he wouldn't have done in Cambridge. He had a bloody good time there, even, getting to engage in not just one but two flings, and one of them with an older woman.

And yet, when he thought back on every touch, every kiss, that he'd shared with either of the women, that pit in his stomach would form again. As if the activities he'd engaged in during his vacation were somehow the "wrong thing" that could make someone responsible for him cross.

But why?

"You're awfully quiet back there, mate. Which one of your lucky ladies is taking up space in that randy little brain o' yours, I reckon?" Eric teased, lightly tapping the curly blond's head as he plopped down on the seat next to him, jostling him out of his dwelling over why there was a pit in his stomach to begin with.

"I've no idea what you're on about, mate, I'm not thinking of anyone," he tried to brush it off, brows furrowing together when he tried to remember that night in the pool and the knots in his stomach worsened. Like the memories he made in Italy were not something he could look back at with fondness.

If he dwelled on it for even a second longer than necessary, it almost felt as if he was looking back on those memories with a touch of shame.

"Ah come on, Oaks, you tellin' everyone 'ere that you're not thinking about that stunner of a blonde Elizabetta? Even I'm thinking 'bout her and it wasn't my tongue down 'er throat." Eric crowded his space, squishing him to the side of the van. "Or even that cougar Anna, my lord, man that one was fawning and doting after you!"

As if right on cue, his mobile rang and vibrated violently in his pocket. Another call. He didn't need to even glance at the tiny device to know who it was. She'd been calling since just a few minutes after they'd all said their goodbyes.

That was over 24 hours ago. And he was well on his way back to campus, the scenery already began to elicit that feeling of 'home'. Or at least of familiarity.

"Speak o' the devil! Why don't you pick it up, Oaks? Be a grand old time hearing her pining after you again." His friend flailed into his side, dramatically placing the back of his hand on his brow. "'Oh Oakley how I miss you terribly, why don't I come visit you on Cambridge and we can live out any professor fantasies you might have in that virile young college brain? I'll even get the glasses and the pencil skirt just for you."

"Sod off," he grunted, trying to chuckle away the mental image. Another thing that was bothering him: Those fantasies that he'd had before they left for Italy a little over a month ago…none of them appealed to him now. "If you want, you take her number and live out those filthy little daydreams of yours, mate."

All that he could manage to think of at the moment was the melancholic knowledge that when he got back to his apartment, there would be no one there. He wasn't coming home to anyone. That didn't used to bother him before, but for some reason sitting in this van with all his mates and having to hear them be completely taken up with his own conquests in this trip made him feel as if he should be guilty and shameful somehow of the way he acted. The way he treated both the women that he encountered and found himself entangled with.

This is ridiculous, you're not looking for a wife, you batty little git, he hissed at himself, trying to supress the urge to let out a deep exhale. That would set off everyone in the van. Besides, you don't even know anyone that's even remotely wife material.

"Hey hey hey look alive, lads," Marcus, the one at the wheel, started to call out. His tone was brimming with wanton intent. "We are steadily approaching the dorms, and you know what comes after."

"Sorority row!" the rest of the van cheered, proceeding to make botched barking sounds, effectively drowning out the relentless ringing of Oakley's phone.

But the mention of the dorms finally had him sitting up straighter, realization dawning on him that he was wrong. He actually already knew someone who was so much more than "wife material". Someone brilliant and diligent that had a part of him driven to make the steps to be someone better.

Someone that he called his best friend. Better than anyone in the van with him tonight.

You.

"Marcus, could you drop me off here?" he called out, his stomach flipping at the sight of your familiar silhouette jogging to the front door of your dormitory.

His friends' remarks faded into a dull buzzing in the background as he got off the van, making his way over to you and staying still by your side while you did your step-ups at the bottom step of the stairs. It only took a few moments before you shifted your gaze at him, removing your earphones and hooking the cord behind your head before giving him a beaming grin.

"Goldie Long Legs!" you squealed, the exhilaration from your workout giving you an adorably flushed look, the slightest tinge of pink on your cheeks. "I didn't know you were coming back tonight."

"I was gonna give you a call when I woke up tomorrow, but then I saw you." He did his best not to pay too much attention to the strange somersaults his stomach was making the longer he stared at you. "Coffee?" He tried to keep his tone casual, despite the way his voice cracked on the last syllable, as if he was a nervous lad asking a girl out for the first time.

You answered a giggle that had his heart doing the most bizarre acrobatics in his chest. Why was he reacting to you like this? Was it simply the lack of a woman's presence the last two days as they made their way back, making this reaction more primal than anything else? Was it your exercise outfit and the way the fabric clung to the curves that were rarely ever out for him to take notice of before?

Was it something else? Something that was simply…uniquely…you?

"Coffee? At this hour?" you laughed off his offer. "All the coffee shops are closed by now, and you know how you get with caffeine, Goldie. If you have a sip, you won't know a peaceful night's sleep tonight."

"Oi! Lookin' good there, Y/L/N!" Eric hollered from the van. Oakley's skin bristled seeing how his friend leered over your figure. "Shame you didn't join us, Italy woulda been an even prettier sight with you around."

"Rather not add to the trail of broken hearts you lot left behind," you shot back flawlessly, sticking your tongue out at the boys in the van. "I know you lads well enough to know you didn't behave yourselves."

"Oaks over there's the worst offender of us all!" Eric pouted, pointing at the curly haired blond. "Two flings. At the same time. Shoulda seen him, Y/L/N, he was at the top of his game."

The playful smile on your face faltered for a fraction of a second before you recomposed yourself. That infinitesimal moment was more than enough for the pit in his stomach to make its presence felt once again. Now Oakley knew what it was, beyond a shadow of a doubt.

Shame. And the worry that knowing what he'd done back there would somehow taint your perception of him. When your gaze darted to him once again, he had to fight back the words that wanted to stumble clumsily out of his mouth. They meant nothing to me.

In the moment they were fascinating, and truthfully while he was in said moment, he thought about how things would go moving forward. If he would try to pursue anything with either of them, but ultimately the immediate answer was 'No'. Back then he didn't know quite yet the reason behind his mind's outright refusal, but now he did.

This dalliance was a mistake. I have someone so much better back at home and I've been a fool not to see it.

"Quite the juggling act, Goldie," you remarked, your tone more hushed than before. It felt as if you were putting distance between the two of you despite not having moved an inch. Like there was a wall he couldn't quite scale now just to get to you.

"One o' them even gave him a nice lil picture o' her. A breathtaking blonde called Elizabetta. Ohh man not even the finest girls in sorority row can compare."

Shut up, you little twat, he internally seethed, wanting nothing more than to throw whatever he could get his hands on at Eric's head so that he could just. Stop. Talking.

And then his mobile started ringing again. And your smile disappeared, your face looking as if it was struggling to decide how to reconfigure itself, your neck twitching with every shrill note of his ringtone. "That's probably that breathtaking blonde now," you said in an eerily chipper tone. "I won't keep you any longer, I'm sure you're tired from the trip. And you'd like to spend the night speaking with your new lady friend."

"Oh that's not even the blonde! That's the other one!" Dammit Eric, stop talking. "Older lady. Head over heels for him, she couldn't keep her hands off him every time they were in the room together. Told you, Y/L/N. Top of his game."

"Ohh so a lady lady friend. All worldly and whatnot…" Even your body language was throwing him off now, way too casual to fit how he himself felt in this moment. The feeling of wanting more than anything to explain. "Well then, I really don't want to keep you. I know better than to keep my elders waiting, you should, too."

The boys in the van started cheering and clapping over your remark, jokingly chanting "One of us! One of us!" as you gave them a curtsy, making a motion as if you were wearing a skirt rather than your black and hot pink leggings.

It was only when you were halfway up the steps to your dorm building that he managed to find his voice again. "Breakfast tomorrow? My treat?"

You only answered with another giggle. "Did you hit your head or something back in Italy? You don't do breakfast, Oakley. At most you do half a protein bar at first period. From my purse. I'll see you at lunch. I mean…if you're not too busy with your new lady friends or whatever."

He couldn't come up with an intelligible enough response, instead watching you walk into your building and shutting the door, wiping away at your face with your towel. All that he could do was walk back into the van, telling Marcus in a daze, "Drop me off at my place. I'm not in the mood for stop overs at sorority row."

Oakley wasn't in the mood for any more games. Any more women. Not tonight.

The next morning the first thing he did was call up his service provider to see about getting a number blocked, and then he grabbed his wallet, rummaging around in his desk drawer for a handful of photos to place in front of Elizabetta's. A group photo with his mates from their first class project in freshman year, a photo with his family. A photo of a stolen moment with you where you two were wielding chopsticks at each other in a playful "stand off" for a potsticker, and your graduation photo.

On a whim, he placed the potsticker one in the front, a fond smile stretching across his face as he traced his finger over your face in the picture. And then his alarm clock began to ring and the sound quickly filled his apartment, springing him into action to find the nearest clean outfit he had lying around.

He nearly broke a sweat with how fast he ran to your dorm building, hoping he'd catch you before you started walking toward wherever you'd decided to grab breakfast for this morning. Right as he was across the street from the front doors, you walked out, one earphone plugged in and the other dangling from the cord, undoubtedly mouthing along to whichever song was topping the chart this week.

"Y/N!" He internally winced at the hoarseness in his voice. He wasn't even running for that long; how was it that he was already heaving for air?

Your head snapped up to his direction at the sound of your name, shock registering on your face when your eyes met his. Followed by confusion, your brows adorably knitting together as you watched him jogging towards you as he crossed the street.

"What brings you to my neck of the woods at this hour, Goldie?" you greeted him with a smile, hooking the cord of your earphones behind your neck. "Have a breakfast date with one of the girls from my building? You must have it bad for this one if you're willing to wake up so early for--"

"Y/N, I'm…I'm not here for someone from your building," he cut you off, wiping his hands on his shorts before standing up straight, trying to get his heart to stop beating so bloody fast. "I asked you to breakfast last night, remember? My treat?"

His response had you visibly taken aback. "Oh…" The word came out more like a squeak, making you clear your throat. "I uhh…I thought you just offered that as a nicety. For catching up. We could've done lunch…or you know, coffee now that it's a reasonable hour."

"We could do that, too," he said in a rush, fighting against the strange instinctual urge to reach for your hand as the worry that you might wave him off and start walking away crossed his mind. "After breakfast?"

You shuffled your feet in place, slightly swaying back and forth. It was a motion he knew all too well from you, the one that told him you were trying to think something through, trying to find the reason and the rationality in something before deciding what to say or do next. Had it been any other day, any other circumstance, and had he not been grappling with finding his own sense of rationality in why there was suddenly this shift on how he was acting and reacting around you, he would have swayed with you.

After a few moments your mouth stretched into a half-smile, shrugging before tilting your head in the direction of a nearby cafe and bakery. "Alright then. Let's go."

Oakley couldn't help how his face broke out into a grin, a touch too eagerly falling into step with you, still fighting the urge to reach for your hand. To lace his fingers with yours.

"So tell me all about Italy," you started, looking up at him and squinting your eyes as the morning sun hit your features. "Start with the food because I want to know if handmade pasta--"

"We can talk about Italy later," he breathed out, finally losing the struggle to not reach for you and settling on lightly resting his hand just above the small of your back. "Tell me about what you've been up to the last six weeks."

He'd try and process what it meant later. That all he wanted to do was know how you'd spent your time apart. That he wanted to hear your stories rather than speak about his own. That much as it was an extraordinary experience to roam Italy with his mates, the only thing he could think of now was how it could have been even more beautiful if he perhaps…experienced it with you.

"Oh…" Your voice got smaller again, as if you were struggling yourself to find words. "Well truthfully they were quite boring. My sister visited campus to drag me to the shopping plaza to overhaul my wardrobe. She's quite literally holding my jumpers hostage and replaced them all with…well, things like these." You awkwardly motioned at the dress you were wearing, a frilly sage number with a bow. "I look ridiculous."

"You look beautiful," he blurted out, immediately biting the inside of his cheek when you snapped your head up to give him a questioning look. A new feeling flooded him. Something almost akin to…fear? His heart was still pounding and thrashing in his chest, his breathing thready like the air was too thin.

Like he was afraid that you'd look at him and see right through him. Right into his soul. His deepest, most secret thoughts. Thoughts he hadn't even dared to properly articulate with himself.

And if you saw them, if you saw him, you would walk away without a second thought. Those words that he was so used to wielding without completely meaning it when he was around other girls, he'd uttered to you with the weight of every unspoken thought he'd had of you since last night.

With every ounce of sincerity and honesty that felt so foreign for him to possess.

"Oh please, Goldie, you don't have to butter me up," you laughed off his compliment, waving it away with your hand like it was a little housefly flitting away by your face. "You don't have to lay it on--"

"I'm not." The words were flying out of him faster than his brain could filter them. "You're beautiful, Y/N. And it's not because your sister overhauled your wardrobe or you changed your hair. It's you." His heart caught in his throat seeing your eyes widen, the questions and the confusion in them mirroring his own. What was wrong with him today? "All of you."

You pursed your lips, already looking back in the opposite direction like you were second guessing agreeing to sharing a meal with him. Or maybe even sharing any form of time with him. He already wanted to hit himself for not keeping his mouth shut, he probably just flushed your entire friendship down the toilet all because he started acting the same way he did when he was in the first grade talking to the prettiest girl in class.

"Hmmm," you sounded through pursed lips, taking a deep breath before your features morphed into that all too composed smile that you gave him and his mates last night. "And here I thought all I had going for me was my winning personailty."

"That's just a part of it," he shot back, failing to fight the urge to touch his hand to your arm as you reached the cafe, helping you keep steady as you walked up the elevated platform leading to the door. Right as you walked past him when he opened the door for you, he caught a wisp of your perfume. The same one you'd worn every day since the day he met you, the scent of apples and mandarin blanketing him with a warmth that took him aback.

Memories of his weeks in Italy now bombarded him. How he would relish the apples that he had, breathing in the scent before taking a bite. How he brought an apple when he and the rest of the group visited a citrus grove, and how the combined smells reminded him of home.

Only his family home didn't smell like that at all. It smelled of tea plants and bergamot.

"Oakley?" Your voice broke through his memories. "You alright over there?"

He took in the sight of you, a single eyebrow raised looking like you were amused by his stupefied state, the corner of your mouth upturned in a little smirk. "Right as rain," he choked out, finding it hard to breathe properly with his heart beating so fast it might as well be The Flash on a treadmill. "Just not used to being up this early, is all."

You only wagged your finger at him, tsk'ing in response when he stepped up next to you at the counter. "Shouldn't have shocked your system with changing your routine like that, Goldie. You have to ease yourself into it, take baby steps. Otherwise you'll crash midday and end up taking a twenty-minute nap that quickly turns into four hours, miss a lecture, and then you'll have to rely on my notes. Again."

"Ah, you should know me better by now, Y/N. I'll need to rely on your notes even if I'm wide awake, I can never pay attention to those old windbags."

His words had you rolling your eyes to the ceiling, a devious smile playing at your lips. He couldn't take his eyes off you, every waking brain cell screaming at him to take your face in his hands and kiss you.

"And here I thought your time with your new worldly lady friend would have you respecting our elders a bit more," you quipped, laughing at him when all he could do in response was audibly choke on the air. "Maybe we can hack that debauched brain of yours. Pretend those old windbags are your older lady friend instead, or pretend one of the pretty girls in our lecture room is your breathtaking blonde Italian beauty. Maybe then you'll pay a bit more attention in class."

I won't, his mind protested. Why would I look anywhere else when you're right next to me?

"I really don't think so," he said softly, letting out a chuckle when all you did was shake your head at him, proceeding to order a bacon cheese waffle sandwich and the first of a handful of coffees you'd be drinking throughout the day. All the while Oakley watched you, a fond smile stretching across his face as he lost himself in the memory of the citrus grove again. The scent he was chasing the entire way to Italy and back.

Your scent.

Home

A/N: Sometime last year I made a lil note in my idea notebook to make a prequel piece to 'just another memory' and now here we are…and it's gonna be a 2-parter with a potential alternate ending because the lil gremlin horn dogs in my writer brain want a scenario where she chooses…well, y'know what, you'll know who it is soon enough 😈😈

'everything' taglist: @simplyholl @loopsisloops @imalovernotahater @coldnique @loz-3 @huntress-artemiss @salempoe @vickie5446 @athalialaufeyson @lokiprompts @kats72 @kikster606 @asgards-princess-of-mischief @lokixryss @thomase1 @mischief2sarawr @lovingchoices14 @lunarnights95 @goblingirlsarah @iamlokisgloriouspurpose @creationsbyme @maple-seed @mjsthrillernp @ladyofthestayingpower @mygfloki @sititran @glitterylokislut @ozymdias @fictive-sl0th  @lokidbadguy @mochie85 @silverfire475 @joyful-enchantress @elizabethmidnight2017 @holdmytesseract @smolvenger @gigglingtiggerv2 @lokidokieokie @lunarnights95 @superficialdomina @kmc1989 @november-rayne @goddessofwonderland @buttercupcookies-blog @peaky-marvel @lokiified @tom-hlover @dryyoursaltyoceantears @herdetectivetheorist

[mimisempai]

You're the only light in my blurry world 3/10

Chapter summary

The weekend begins, a cooking lesson, new friends, Crowley and Aziraphale talk and get to know each other.

And... they're roommates.

On Ao3

Rating G - 2128 words

Masterpost for this fic : here

Aziraphale looked out the window at the unfolding scenery, with the happy bustle of people chatting in the background.

He wanted so much to be around people.

Before his accident, he'd always been surrounded by friends, but since then, everything had changed.

His condition, prosopagnosia, or face blindness, had been caused by his head injury, and because of it, his whole world had collapsed. 

Since then, he had been slowly trying to rebuild it.

All faces faded, even his own.

He couldn't remember the look in his mother's eyes, the faces of his friends, and gradually he had even forgotten what he looked like.

Maggie was the only one of his friends who had stayed. Who had made the effort, who still did. Who accepted that sometimes he'd walk up to someone and think it was her, just because their figure and blond hair looked like her.

Who accepted that sometimes he wouldn't react just because he couldn't see the expression on her face.

But why Crowley?

Why was he the only one he could see and recognize?

What was different about him?

Aziraphale had no idea, and he hadn't wanted to tell his neurologist because he didn't feel like going through a whole series of tests again. Maybe later. For now, he just wanted to believe in luck and make the best of it.

He shifted his gaze from the landscape to the red-haired man sitting next to him. Crowley hadn't lied: he'd fallen asleep the moment the bus had started and hadn't opened his eyes since. 

Aziraphale would have been happy to have a chat with him, but just the sight of him wasn't bad either.

Suddenly, Aziraphale saw him shiver slightly, so he took the jacket from Crowley's lap and pulled it up to cover him, then leaned his head back against the seat and, after a few moments, fell asleep himself. He didn't see Crowley half-open his eyes and peer up at him, his cheeks slightly flushed.

A few hours later, they were in the common room of the cottage where they would be staying for the weekend, and the teacher was giving them the details of the organization.

"You'll be working in groups of three or four to prepare the meals, and I've made up a schedule that's taped to the kitchen door. Crowley, Aziraphale, Muriel and Maggie, you'll be the first to go tonight, you'll prepare the dinner. As for the bedrooms, they are of two or three beds, there are enough, you are free to choose your roommates. In each room you'll find the schedule for today and tomorrow. See you at dinner tonight! You're free to go."

Immediately, Aziraphale felt an arm around his neck, and it wasn't until the person spoke that he knew who it was. It was Eric, who also had his arm around Crowley's neck and said cheerfully, "I'll be in the same room as Crowley and Aziraphale."

Crowley chuckled and replied, "I'll go with Aziraphale, but you..." 

"Hey, I'm not disposable! What do you say, Zira, do you want me in the bedroom?"

Aziraphale laughed slightly and replied, "That depends, do you snore?"

"Yes, he snores."

Aziraphale recognized first the voice and then the slender figure of Muriel, who had just joined them with Maggie.

Then, realizing the implication of Muriel's words, he asked a little hesitantly, pointing at Muriel and Eric, "Does that mean that you two..."

Muriel sighed and replied, "Yes, we're dating."

Then he saw Magie roll up her sleeves as she said, "Well, not to spoil the mood, but given the hour, I think we should start preparing dinner soon."

Eric asked, "I know I'm not in your group, but do you mind if I stay?"

"Of course not, silly."

Muriel kissed Eric on the cheek before they all headed for the kitchen.

When they were a little behind, Maggie whispered in his ear, "Are you okay, honey?"

Aziraphale nodded and murmured, "I think so, yes. No, actually, I'm fine."

Then he added in a whisper, "Crowley and I are sharing a room."

"Great!"

Then they joined the group in the kitchen and began to divide up the chores. As they did so, Muriel asked Aziraphale, "Do you live alone? Can you cook?"

Aziraphale replied, "I live alone, I like to eat, but I can only cook very simple things."

He watched as Crowley picked up a knife and a bunch of tomatoes before he began to cut them up with great skill. 

Muriel, who had followed his gaze, exclaimed, "Oh, I think we've got our chef here. Look at Crowle cutting tomatoes!"

Amidst exclamations of admiration, Eric patted Crowley on the back and encouraged him, "We're counting on you, buddy!"

Aziraphale was feeling a bit useless when Crowley suddenly handed him a couple of tomatoes, a knife, and a chopping board and said, "Give me a hand."

Aziraphale nodded, more than happy to work with him.

Muriel and Maggie exchanged knowing glances before saying, "We'll take care of the meat and dessert, and you, Eric, make yourself useful and take care of the pasta."

Hearing Eric grumble, Crowley and Aziraphale looked at each other and chuckled.

They began to work in silence, and Aziraphale watched as Crowley sliced a tomato, then tried to reproduce the gesture himself. But suddenly the knife slipped, causing the tomato to drop to the floor.

Ashamed, Aziraphale picked it up and said dejectedly, "I'm really no good."

Crowley shook his head and said, "You just need a little practice. I sucked at it too at first."

He put the knife down, wiped his hands on the apron he'd put on, then stood behind Aziraphale and put his hands on top of his, gently making with him the proper gestures, "Now, you've got to hold the knife like this...that's it, firm but still flexible. And with your fingers on the tomato, follow the blade of the knife. Yes. That's it. See, you're good."

Seeing that Aziraphale had caught the gesture, he released him and returned to his place in front of the counter.

They continued cutting tomatoes in silence, and Aziraphale had to work hard to concentrate because he could still feel the warmth of Crowley's body against his and the softness of his hands on his. Not to mention his voice in his ear.

Cheeks flushed, he told himself he would never survive this weekend.

When suddenly Crowley broke the silence and asked him, "So what do you do for a living, Aziraphale?"

"I own an old bookshop in Soho."

Crowley exclaimed, "That's super cool. How did you end up there?"

Aziraphale replied, "I studied literature and didn't really know what to do with it. I didn't want to be a teacher." 

In fact, he didn't have a choice; it was hard to be a teacher in his condition. 

He continued, "Maggie, who has her record store next door, told me that the old owner had died with no one to leave it to, and that it was for sale for a song because of its run-down condition. Since I had some insurance money because of..." he didn't want to explain where the money came from and continued, "well, I took a chance and went for it. I renovated it and reopened it six months ago."

"Could I come and see it?"

"What?"

Crowley? In his bookshop? 

More than that, he was surprised by Crowley's seemingly genuine interest in him.

"Unless you don't-"

Aziraphale shook his head and immediately replied, "Yes, yes, of course! 

Anytime!"

He was about to grab the next tomato when he saw there were none left. 

He asked playfully, "What do we do now, Chief Crowley?"

Crowley's eyes widened before he began to laugh, and it was the most beautiful thing Aziraphale had ever seen.

"My dear apprentice, we're going to cook these tomatoes and make the best tomato sauce you've ever tasted."

As Crowley dropped the chopped tomatoes into a saucepan, Aziraphale looked up to see that Maggie's face was turned toward him, and though he couldn't read her expression, he could see that she was discreetly giving a thumbs up. He winked at her before joining Crowley.

"Give me that olive oil and spices there."

Aziraphale gave him what he asked for, and as Crowley poured the olive oil over the tomatoes, he asked, "Are you and Maggie... you know..."

Aziraphale shook his head, "Oh, no, no! She's my best friend. And neither of us is the right gender for each other anyway."

He quickly wondered if it was too soon to give that kind of detail, but Crowley murmured, "Oh... that's nice."

Aziraphale, feeling bold, asked, "What's nice? That we're not together or that she's not the right genre for me?"

Crowley replied with a slight smile, "Both," then began to stir and continued, "As far as I'm concerned, you're the right for me."

Aziraphale mimicked Crowley earlier and said softly, "Oh...that's nice."

They looked at each other, and something passed, something like understanding, and something more, or at least the possibility of something more.

"So, mates, where do we stand?"

Their gaze lingered for another fleeting second, then Muriel and Maggie arrived and the meal preparation continued in good spirits.

**********

"Guys, that was way too good!"

Eric, the last to shower, left the bathroom to dry his hair and Crowley took his place to brush his teeth.

Aziraphale, sitting on his bed, looked up from the book he was reading and replied, "I had nothing to do with this. Crowley did it all."

Eric came over and sat on the edge of his bed as he said gently, "Hey, it was a team effort, stop being so modest. It was delicious and you have some responsibility in it. Take the compliment, period. Don't be so shy with us. We know each other now. We are friends, aren't we?"

Aziraphale, throat tight with emotion, replied softly, "Yes. Yes, we are."

Then Eric got up and crawled into his own bed before telling them, as Crowley came out of the bathroom, "Well, I'm beat, guys, so I'm going to bed."

"Good night, Eric," Aziraphale said quietly before closing his book and slipping under the covers as well.

Crowley had the bed right next to his, and Eric's was at the other end of the room. Aziraphale turned to the side to look at - or rather, ogle - Crowley, who was also settling into his bed. Once he was down, he asked Aziraphale, pointing to the light, "Can I turn it off?"

"Yes."

Crowley turned it off and Aziraphale said softly, "Good night, Crowley."

"Good night."

Aziraphale stretched out on his back, but he couldn't sleep.

His eyes were wide open and he replayed the day in his mind. It had been one of the best he'd had in a long time. 

Not only had he gotten to spend time with Crowley, but he'd talked to him, made new friends, had a good time, and for the first time since his accident, he felt like he'd gained something.

He realized it was also because he'd tried, because for once he'd managed to open up to someone other than Maggie.

He promised himself he'd keep at it.

"Are you asleep?"

Crowley's voice, though whispered, startled him slightly, then he replied, "No."

Crowley said softly, "Thank you for cooking with me."

Aziraphale replied, moving a little closer so as not to raise his voice, "I'm the one who should be thanking you."

There was silence, and Aziraphale had the feeling Crowley wanted to ask him a question but didn't dare. He thought he knew what it was.

"You want to ask me again why I've been staring at you all this time, don't you?"

Crowley chuckled and replied, "Are you a psychic or something? But yeah, I'd like to know."

It was so much easier to answer in the dark, and even if Aziraphale wasn't ready to tell him his secret yet, he could tell him half the truth.

"I wanted to get to know you, but I didn't know how. That's why."

He heard Crowley's muffled laugh and then Crowley whispered, "What?! Just this? You know all you have to do is talk? If you'd been as direct as you are now, you realize we'd probably be friends by now?"

Aziraphale felt almost on the verge of telling the truth, but he heard a sheet rattle and Crowley yawned before saying, "Come on let's get some sleep, otherwise it's going to be tough tomorrow."

Aziraphale said softly, "Anyway, I'm glad you don't hate me anymore."

"I never hated you, you idiot!"

Aziraphale laughed silently then murmured, "Good night, Crowley."

"Hm, 'night."

Aziraphale told himself that tomorrow couldn't come soon enough.

_________

Still not beta'd

Still not my native language

Still hoping you'll enjoy this story  🥰

Still thanking you for bearing with me 😝

Ineffable Husbands masterlist : here 

[nonotnolan]

Post-Exam Karma

"Are you done yet?" Shane asked, glaring at me from his armchair. "Put your shirt back on, and go fetch the Body Swapper. Like, I'm grateful for you completing those exams for me and all, but that's why I paid you. Nothing personal, but the sooner I can get the hell out of your body, the better."

I found myself speechless, mostly because I could barely recognize myself. Usually I wore retro T-shirts and jeans. I didn't realize that I even owned a polo shirt, let alone whatever it was that Shane was doing to my hair. Not that it mattered. From now on, it wasn't going to be my problem any more.

"You realize we're not switching back, right?" He leaned forward, trying to put an intimidating scowl on his face before remembering that he now weighed at least a hundred pounds less than before. Taking a deep breath, I continued. "You're a terrible student, a terrible son, and a terrible boyfriend. I've put up with your shit for years. I was supposed to be your roommate, not your tutor or your housekeeper. I basically set up your life for you, and I got nothing in return. So, now that you've played your last college football game, ever? I'm taking that life from you."

He pulled himself up to his full height, which was now much less impressive than it used to be. "Do you really think you can get away with this?"

"I've already gotten away with it," I said, taking a picture of my new body to send to my boyfriend. Eric was skeptical at first, but after filling him with seven inches of jock meat, he believes me. "It's not like anyone from the NFL wants you. You're good, but not that good. Anything weird that I do now, I can just pretend that I wanted some new changes in my life. Like these glasses. You look really hot in glasses, Shane. My boyfriend definitely agrees."

"Don't you fucking dare use my body for that gay shit," he growled, poking me in the stomach. Seeing him clenching his fists in anger made all those previous months of hell worth every minute.

"It's far too late for that," I said, patting him on top of his head. "You've officially lost your anal virginity both ways."

Shane tried to raise a threatening fist at me. "When Katie finds out about this, she'll--"

"Katie? Your girlfriend? Shane, who the hell do you think gave me the idea?" God, seeing him reap all of this karma was so beautiful. "You cheated on her with half of the cheerleading team, bragged about it, and you still thought she was on your side? She's the one helping me interact with your parents without tipping them off that something fucky is going on. Not that you seem to spend much time with them, but I don't want to cut off that sweet, sweet parental allowance. I've giving Katie a cool $5,000 to pretend to be my girlfriend each month, and then when we both think I'm ready, I'll surprise everyone by coming out of the closet."

"At which point my parents will disown you," Shane muttered, clenching his jaw in fury.

"At which point I'll have a savings account with five figures, and a professional job of my own," I said, correcting him. "It's amazing how much money you can save up when you aren't flying down to the Hamptons every other week. Give it up, Shane, we've been planning this for weeks."

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

I don't know how Shane's holding up in my old body. Some of Eric's friends told us stories about how Henry went off the deep end and barely managed to avoid the psych ward, so I can only assume he's not doing too well. Still, that's not my problem.

Katie's doing much better now that her boyfriend isn't a total asshole. We still keep in touch, sometimes. Shane's parents didn't disown me when I told them their son was dating a man, so that has been a pleasant surprise. Honestly, I think they credit him for their son's reversal in behavior.

Eric and I have been dating for a few years now, so it's only a matter of time before one of us proposes. He's officially known me longer in Shane's body than he did in my old body, so that's exciting. As for me? I wear polo shirts now. I have to confess, they look good.

[newdeobis]

kinktober day 11

roommate!kevin x fem reader

warnings: unprotected sex, so much teasing and tension in such a small amount of time, idk if there's a term for that but reader likes when people take pics of her, it's not as sexy as i thought it was, like eric’s, it was meant to be for jacob so yeah; there's a lot of typos

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ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ“Can you take some pictures for me?”

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 Kevin didn't think much about the meaning behind those words when you knocked on his bedroom door in a cold evening, worrying at your bottom lip while wearing a comfy sweater that were bigger than your body, nails clicking against his wooden door.

 The boy didn’t even hesitate when he muttered a “yeah, sure, why not?” distractedly, fingers typing something fast as he stared at his laptop screen. The way you shifted your weight nervously from one foot to the other going unnoticed by the dark haired boy, telling you he’d meet you in the living room after he was done.

Didn't know what you were up to nor what you were wearing under your sweater. Only realizing what he was getting himself into when he sat on the couch moments later, eyes wide and mouth agape as you handed him your phone. Sitting on the fluffy carpet like you didn’t ask him to take photos of your body. Your naked body.

He gawked at you, staring at you ridiculously.

_ Is that a prank?

You huffed, sitting on your knees. Legs spreading under you as you leaned closer to his body, looking up at his sitting form on the sofa.

_ Look, you’re my roommate and we’ve been friends for years. I though about asking for your help because usually you're not the type to judge someone. I’m trying to get some money for college and for myself, what’s wrong with that?  – you asked, huffing as the boy tried not to think about the situation.  – You’re always hanging out around me shirtless and only wearing underwear, what’s different from that? I’m gonna use the pics for a good cause.

Kevin almost scoffed. Good cause? 

_ I can lend you some money. — he offered, knowing you wouldn’t accept it.

You tilted your head, looking at him funny.

_ I’m not that desperate, I still can pay the bills. — you deadpaned, hands touching his knees while a pout formed on your lips, trying to make a cute face. — Won’t you help me, Kev? The pics didn't come out that good when I was doing that by myself, I swear this is the only time I’m asking for your help, I can ask any other guy later.

He snorted at your words, feeling uneasy after you mentioned another man. Why the fuck would you ask for any other guy when he was right here?

_ So...  — you stared up at him, that malicious grin creeping up your face — Are you down?

The boy tsked, the grip around your phone getting tighter as he took a deep breath, knowing he was about to regret doing that.

_ Okay.  —  Kevin shrugged, palms starting to get sweaty.  —  Go change your clothes then.

_ Oh, I’m not changing. —  your giggle making him stare back at you — I’m taking these clothes off.

The boy would be lying if he said your words didn’t send a tingle of excitement throughout his body, blood rushing to his cock.

He cleared his throat.

_ ‘kay, whenever you’re ready.

You offered him a soft smile, playing with the helm of your sweater once again.

_ I’m ready.  —  words spoken softly before you gave him a stern look — Don't take pictures of my face.

He nodded, licking his dry lips before opening the camera app, fingers noticebly trembling as he stared at the screen, positioning the phone in a way it could be seen that you were on your knees, thighs looking oh so inviting as you slowly hooked your fingers around the helm of the sweater, dragging the piece up your thighs as he gulped, adam’s apple bobbing up and down as he clicked. Taking a deep breath as he got the view of your red lace up panties.

You bit down your lips even though it couldn’t be seen through the screen. His pants getting tighter, fixing his shirt as he stood up before you so the outline of his cock wasn't visible anymore.

_ You look good in red. — he mumbled, bringing the phone down as his eyes followed your movements, sucking a sharp breath through his teeth when you exposed your panties completely, lifting your sweater up until he could see your matching bra, thighs spreading as you arched your back, head thrown back as you exposed your neck.

_ I know — you grinned cutely, watching his reactions carefully once Kevin knelt in front of you. Eyes ranking up and down his body, biting down your lip at how his jeans hugged his thighs, his sleeves rolled up, doing nothing to hide how his veiny arms flexed, long fingers making your phone look smaller than it is. You supressed a laugh when you touched his chest after a couple more clicks, his heartbeat quickening under you palm, jaw clenching as he took in your mischievous look. —  Do you wanna help me some more?

He gulped, hesitating.

_ Like how? — You grabbed one of his hands, bringing it up until it cupped your boob, hands over his, fingers applying pressure experimentally as he tilted his head. — Do you want me to touch you?

_ For the pictures. — you smirked, soft tone almost convincing Kevin.

Your roommate nodded, fingers applying more pressure on the flesh until you hummed. Cock twitching in his pants, bulge impossible to hide as you got closer, angling the camera before taking another photo, the red of lingerie contrasting prettily with the rings on his fingers.

The boy looked over the phone, the curve of your breasts exciting him to no end, thinking about how soft your skin would feel if he kissed and marked it up, thumb teasing your covered nipple until you whimpered, thoughts getting fogged as Kevin raised his brows, smirking unconsciously. He wanted to lick and suck it so bad.

_ Do you like my tits?  — you tried to tease him once again, leaning closer to his touch.

The answer came faster and bolder than you expected.

_ Yeah, a lot. Are you really gonna act like I don’t stare at your boobs daily?  —  he grinned, tilting his head as he took another picture, this time squeezing it harder, a gasp leaving your lips as you closed your eyes. —  Do you like that?

_ Mhmmm, it's perfect — you muttered, head thrown back as your palms moved down his torso, feeling his muscles clench under your touch before opening your eyes, smiling lazily. — Would you fuck it?

He took another photo, this time messily and blurry as his eyes were no longer staring at the small screen.

_ I mean... if you wanted me to — he trailed off, a smug grin on your face as you couldn't believe his stubbornness.

You opened your eyes once again, giving him that lustful eyes one more time, hands moving lower until you grabbed his covered thighs, nails digging into his jeans firmly as the boy hissed.

_ I’ll think about it. —  Kevin nodded, not even realizing that he was holding his breath until you moved away from him, raising your eyebrows before lowering the straps of your bra, deciding to tease him some more as you tilted your head to the side, running a hand through your hair as the other unhooked your bra, his eyes widening at the sight of your bare chest before him when you let the piece fall to the floor, keeping calm and collected even though you were dying to let him touch you some more. — What are you doing?  — you snapped your finger in front of his face. — Keep on taking pictures.

He obviously complied, your hand occasionally brushing against his hard on when you asked him to get on top of you so the pictures could have a different pov, thighs on each side of your body, using your hand to push him away or pull him closer whenever you felt like it. The problem was what you were doing while tugging at his pants, fingers grazing against his crotch every time you pulled him closer.

_ Is that enough? — Kevin lowered your phone, trying not to marvel at the sight of your hard nipples. Goosebumps popping up all over the skin when you back hit the floor, fingers rubbing up and down his covered skin as you pouted.

_ It's cold.

He scoffed.

_ I know. — your roommate mumbled, trying to ignore how painful his hard on was getting as he stood there — We should stop, go get dressed.

_ Just one more, Kev. — you begged in a small voice, tugging at his jeans again before crawling back to your position. — It won't take us long.

Your roommate nodded briefly, mouth agape when you turned around. Face down and ass up, arching your back so he could get a better view of you wiggling your ass.

_ You gotta be kidding me. — Kevin snorted, almost losing his self control when you pushed your ass on him, backing off before you could feel his hard cock.

_ Please touch me when you take the pictures. — you smirked to yourself when he hissed. Almost sing-songed the next words. — I need something to warm me up.

Your heart swelled and pussy clenched around nothing when you felt his hot palm on your bare ass, fingers squeezing the flesh still hesitantly.

_ Is that okay if I touch you like this?

_ Yeah. — you admitted weakly when his nails dug into the flesh — I love it.

His fingers stroked the skin gently, hips moving slowly as he grinded on the air. The dark spot on your panties making him hum lightly, the sound barely audible as you moaned when he pressed his hard on against your covered pussy.

Your camera roll instantly was filled with new pictures of your thighs spread wide before him, his hand exploring the exposed skin before hovering and bending over your form. Teeth grazing the skin of your ass teasingly, biting down hard when you whimpered, burying your face into your arms.

_ Please tell me I can jerk off. — Kevin's voice was strained, cock throbbing and pre cum leaking as he grinded on the open air again. — Tell me I can jerk off to the thought of you, please, I'm about to lose my mind.

You pushed your hips back, a rush of arousal running through your body and making your pussy ache for his touch. Gosh, it was pathetic how even consentiment was sexy when he was the one asking for it.

You nodded, tugging at your own messy hair as the words left your lips.

_ That's hot, — you laughed weakly, voice coming out muffled. — But save it for when I'm not there to help you out. Now you can just push my panties to the side, babe. Go on. — you suggested. — And take your pants off, it looks too tight.

_ Are you sure? — being muttered back even though he was behind you already, lowerind his jeans to press his hard length against you, no underwear on sight.

Kevin whimpered when the cold air hit him, hard cock slapping against his shirt. He couldn't help but wrap his hand around his girth, taking a picture of how hard it looked for you so you could look at it later. Thoughts of your fingers buried inside your pussy as you stare at the picture of his cock later being enough to make him thrust against his fingers, dying to touch you but too lost in the feeling of his own hand providing the friction he was dying to get.

_ I'm sure. — you said exasperatedly, lifting your head up so you could stare at him over your shoulder. A breathy moan leaving your lips as you watched his face contorting in pleasure, bottom lip caught up in between his teeth as the slick sounds filled your ears. You tried to support yourself up on an elbow as your moved your right hand down your body, nipples pressing against the cold floor as you lowered your face, fingers circling around your clit messily before pushing your panties to the side. The sight making him suck a sharp breath through his teeth. — Keep on taking pictures.

Your roommate groaned, slowly stopping stroking his cock against his will. This time he pressed record as the tip of your fingers stroked your clit, drawing small circles around the bud before playing with your slit. Cock heavy against your thigh and twitching while your puckered rim and pussy clenched, zooming in as he slowly humped your leg, doing his best with shaking hands and wandering thoughts.

Voice soothing as he rubbed your back, hand greedily grabbing your ass moments later, tilting his head as he tried to stare at you, suggesting dirty things like he was asking what you'd like for breakfast.

_ Baby? — Kevin asked softly, high tension killing him. Eyes almost rolling back when your fingers went knuckles deep inside you, a mewl erupting from your throat. His lips pressed a kiss to the soft skin of your back. — Maybe I should put my cock inside you, hm? Your fingers look so small being swallowed back inside you everytime you pull them out, maybe you need something bigger. — your roommate licked his lips once you grinded on your fingers again, pre-cum coating your thigh as he grinded at the same pace you fucked yourself on your fingers. — I know you're not fucking anyone and it's been a while, your pussy looks so tight that I think even my tip would be hard to fit in. So I get it if you don't want to.

_ I don't think so, I'm pretty wet. — you said shamelessly, loving the feeling of being spread out before your roommate, the feeling of being so wet that you can feel the fluids slowly dripping from you. It made you so hot, got you feeling so excited, so alive. The fact that Kevin was the one watching you only exciting you further.

_ Did I make you this wet? — you could the hear the lust in his voice.

You tried to look over your shoulder again, withdrawing your fingers from inside you as the phone pointed at your pussy. He grunted when he realized how wet your fingers were.

_ What do you think?

His heart was racing, hand wrapping around his cock again, stroking it before he situated himself between your legs, the tip of his cock resting against your folds.

Goosebumps ran through your skin as his voice dropped a few octaves.

_ Then let me fuck you open a bit, hm? — he patted your ass, watching the jiggle with a smirk, holding your cheeks apart as he dropped the phone on the carpet, in the mood for teasing you. — Just for the pictures. I won't fuck you for real, just let me stretch you out. Your pussy is gonna look so pretty wrapped around my cock.

You nibbled on your bottom lip, voice coming out weaker than the expected when you pressed your thumb to your clit harder, fingers moving up to your nipples seconds later.

_ Just the tip? — He stroked himself faster, pulling your panties up roughly, the fabric brushing against your clit harshly. You yelped at the ripping sounds. — That was expensive!

_ Mmhmm. — he hummed, a smirk plastered on his face as he watched his pre-cum slowly mix with your own fluids. — We can go shopping any day. I'll let you try on and buy anything you want. — he squeezed your ass, grinding on you. — I'll pay for it. — the boy babbled before his hands worked on tearing your panties to pieces. — I'll pay for your pictures too, if you want me to.

_ Are you gonna be my sugar daddy now? — you snorted, raising your brows as he manhandled you. — Come on, don't act like I'm doing this for you, I'll get really mad if you stop taking pictures.

Kevin cracked a smile after hearing that, rubbing his tip against your folds, pussy slick as he teased your slit.

_ I mean, I could be... — his words trailed off, brows knitted together as he pressed his head on your slit, face contorting as he ran his tip through your puffy lips, fingers spreading it before easing his tip inside you, your walls eagerly sucking him in — Fuck I'm gonna slip all the way in like that, shit, you're real wet. — he grunted, abusing his bottom lip once again while trying to stay still, your walls clenching around his tip as you moved your hips back not helping him at all.

_ You're big. — you whimpered, still trying to look at him over your shoulder. The boy was too focused on the way your pussy swallowed him to stare back at you.

He shook his head, tsking.

_ Not really, baby. — length going deeper when he bent over to get the phone from the floor, hips thrusting into you as mewled softly — You're just fucking tight.

He carelessly took another photo, not really paying attention to the click sounds as he withdrew his hips from yours, keeping his tip inside you as he mumbled a low “this is not fair, it's a fucking torture” when you moaned his name.

_ What do you want to do? — you asked, body quivering under him. — Should we change positions?

Kevin tilted his head a bit at your tricky question, abs clenching when you grinded on him.

_ This one is fine. — his eyes almost fluttering close, voice getting lower. — Your ass looks good up in the air.

You could hear your heartbeat in your ear, adrenaline rushing through your body as you arched your back a little more.

_ Maybe you should cum on me too. — you suggested, mumbling against the skin of your arms as your fingers teased your nipple, nails digging into your palm when you felt him thrust into you again, meaningless apologies leaving his mouth. — It's gonna look great in the pictures.

Kevin scoffed to himself, voice heavy with sarcasm.

_ Yeah sure, in the pictures. — the boy stopped when he was balls deep inside you, fingers gripping your waist roughly. Gritting the words through his teeth. — Then I should cum inside you first, right?

_ I mean— yeah.

He hummed.

_ Can I fuck you?

You nodded, body getting weaker as he threw your phone on the couch, fingers making it's way to your hair, lifting your head up, tugging at your hair as he pulled you flush against his covered torso. Head thrown back against his shoulder as his fingers trailed down your body, body jolting when he used to fingers to spread your swollen lips, quickly circling around your clit like you did moments before. The fact that his cock was still buried inside you only made you grip his wrist, nails digging into his arms without any mercy as he started to move his hips.

_ Mhmmm. — Kevin moaned in your ear, hips bucking up in slow and hard thrusts before you felt his lips on your neck, sucking on the exposed skin. — I'm so fucking hard, it hurts so much but being buried inside that tight pussy feels like heaven.

You cried out when his fingers started to move faster, Kevin's name falling from your mouth like a pray.

His other hand moved until fingers brushed against your hard nipple, experimentally giving a hard it squeeze, smirking against your neck when you grunted. Even the pain felt good.

_ You're such a naughty girl. — the boy tsked again after biting down on your shoulder harshly. — I know you're always flashing me your pretty tits and ass when you walk around the house in the summer. But letting me take pictures of your naked body and fuck you like that? — he grunted, hips increasing the pace, you both with eyes shut tightly. You clenched around him again. — You're nastier than I thought. Gotta love you for that.

The next words that were whispered and exchanged being a blur to you as the boy started seeing white, grunting and moaning in your ear once his pace quickened. Playing with your tits, massaging, squeezing, cupping the flesh until you fucked yourself back on his cock, twitching inside you as he asked if he could cum in between breathy moans.

You nodded.

Of course he could, just the thought of his cum dripping down your thighs later was enough to make your body's temperature rise rapidly.

The warmth taking over you as you moaned his name again, feeling the hot spurts of his cum coating your walls and filling you up to the brim, the pace never faultering. Not even when you clenched around his cock for the last time that night, tears threatening to roll down yours cheeks as you came, muscles twitching as his fingers slowed down a bit, still stroking your clit as you came down from your high.

_ That's it, babygirl. — Kevin cooed, pressing wet kisses down your neck. — Make a mess.

Your roommate pumped into you a few more times before slowing down, biting on your neck again as you whimpered when he pulled out. Sitting you on his lap as he grabbed the phone again, spreading your legs apart before using the front camera, not even taking pictures as he used it as a mirror.

_ Look how much you came, baby. — he chuckled, pressing a kiss to your cheek before taking another photo, closing the camera and pushing the phone away again.

You weren't even paying attention, head turned to him as you stared at the boy, licking your lips when he smirked while staring at the small screen.

You wanted to kiss him. Wanted to kiss him so badly, especially after you felt how soft it was while he was kissing your skin.

_ I can send you pictures of me too if you like staring that much. — he teased you, your wide eyes staring up at him.

_ I want to kiss you. — you admitted, his smiley face making you feel funny.

He chuckled, grabbing your chin and pecking your lips.

_ Like that? — you shook your head, furrowing your brows as you pouted. Kevin leaned closer again, this time his lips gently touching yours, hands caressing your sides. He pulled away before you could deepen the kiss, voice husky as he stared down at you, lustful eyes boring into yours. You shook your head again. — Hmm. What about this? — you barely had time to say anything before he was all over you, kissing you passionately.

You let him guide you through the kiss, tongue dominating yours as you whimpered against his lips, messily making out before he moved away from your body. Pushing your back flat on the floor as your hands wrapped around his neck, trying to pull him down, thighs spread apart so he could easily push himself back into you. Fucking you open however he desired.

Your eyes scanned his torso as he took off his shirt, your hands instantly touching and tracing his tattoos, earning a chuckle from Kevin before he kissed you again.

_ Don't be eager. You can touch me all night long.

_ You can bet I'll. — you snorted, groping his biceps as you tilted your head to the side. — Won't you take photos? It's gonna look great from your pov.

He shook his head, tip brushing against your clit as he grinded on you. Lips touching your jaw sensually as he grinded again. The grip on your hips getting tighter as his eyes darkened, holding promises you weren't sure you could keep.

He grabbed the base of his cock, teasing your folds before he pushed all the way in, his engorged cock stretching your pussy in all the right ways as you moaned his name.

_ This one is private, babygirl.

[...]