#coloring is all over the place and it looks messy i think but i love this idea too much to care

[raplinenthusiasts]

🎤 next song is dedicated to @jeongtokkie

[septemberpdf]

for a while ive sort of longed to be one of those girls thats gorgeous in a very messy way but upon realizing that i am actually that, my perspective on it has changed. i did try to embody it for years, but it turns out that you dont actually get that effortlessly, artistically frazzled look unless you live an actual frazzled life. and i like my frazzled busy life!

[redcherrykook]

ִֶָ── ࣪ ִֶָ🦇་༘࿐ Kinktober D2- hand kink

────☠︎︎────

content: pwp, oc is watching Jk game and admires his hands, teasing, sucking on fingers, fingering, praise, dirty talk

note from cherry: omg do i love his hands

────☠︎︎────

"Fuck this guy! That was my kill" your boyfriend groans, slamming his palm down on the wooden desk, his other hand coming up to move his messy brown hair around,

you try your best to surpress the giggle that quickly escapes nonetheless, turning your head to press a kiss on his cheek.

Letting your eyes linger on the flashy colors of his brightly lit computer screen, even if he lost, watching him game is always entertaining

It's a regular Friday night with kook, you're sitting on his lap, back to his chest, both legs around one of his thighs while his arms are wrapped around your waist, busying his hands with the keyboard in front of you

He´s comfortably unwinding with your cuddled up form, inhaling your shampoo that he can smell from your strands of hair straying all over your shoulders

He smiles softly, leaning his head down next to yours and stroking little patterns on your exposed thigh,

"You tired of watching me pretty?" he asks, nuzzling the side of his face into your cheek

"no, i'm good, but not for long okay?"

"mhm, one more round and i'll get 'ya to sleep" jungkook replies while starting up the game again, cracking his knuckles and latching his fingers to the keyboard

While this innocent quality time may have been that to Jungkook, your mind has been straying far off somewhere else ever since you sat down on his thigh,

Maybe it was the fact that you're only wearing panties and his oversized hoodie, but smelling his warm scent, feeling the firmness of his muscles collide with your clit whenever he bounced his leg to focus,

It all adds up to the undeniable desire thats taking over your mind,

Your eyes are fully focused on his skilled hands, pretty, slim fingers working delicately against the keyboard.

They have always made you feel especially horny, one of them decorated in small doodle like tattoos, while the other one remained pure and soft,

They are big, big enough to cup your entire chest, long enough to burry his fingers inside your cunt, tracing his thumb over your clit,

Fuck, just the image of that makes you shift a bit, surpressing a moan when you feel yourself rubbing against his muscle again,

Suddenly, he stops moving his fingers, and when glancing up to the screen, you notice he exited the round

Wordlessly, both of his hands come down to touch your thighs, sliding along the smooth skin, tracing his fingers gently along your softness

This time, you don't bother holding back the moan, letting the small sounds breathyily fall past your lips,

"what were you looking at pretty?"

he whispers, ghosting his lips over the shell of your ear,

You don't respond, only letting out a hum when he draws little circles on your inner thighs, his fingers creeping up closer to your core with every little move,

"come on, what's my little angel thinking about?"

His breath dances on the skin of your neck, small, sensual kisses running down your skin, spilling from his lips

"hm- you feel so good.." you trail off, getting lost in the gentle touches on your thighs paired with the way he loves on your neck,

"were dozing off at my hands, do you want them love? Want my fingers?"

you nod, gripping the side of his thigh for a place to stable yourself, you feel him smirk against your neck,

"words love, need you to be a good girl and tell me what you want" he says, colliding his lips with your ear, a soft dance of his warmth on your skin, purring almost as he speaks

"please kook, need your fingers, they´re so pretty" your little whine isn´t going unnoticed by him, chuckling slightly once he glides his hands under the hoodie covering your skin

the whine turns into a moan, continiously falling from between your lips as your eyes flutter shut, with the way his palms cup your chest, making sure to add pressure when he rubs your nipples, you can´t stop it,

"good girl, feel so soft, do you know how good you look in my hoodie?" his voice keeps luring you in, hands rubbing on your sides now, until he lifts one hand to your face, cradling your chin between his tattooed fingers

"open baby, i know how much you love this" with his words, two fingers are gliding over your lips,

"hm, god kook, please" without a second to spare, he pushes his digits into your mouth, pressing them flat on your tongue while he groans softly,

"good girl, suck on them, show me how much you love them angel"

He keeps letting soft moans fall into your ears, feeling your tongue glide over his long digits, sucking your cheek sin to coat them in your saliva,

with a string of it connected to your lips, he pulls them out, pressing a kiss to your cheek lovingly

One hand slips down to your legs, massaging inside your thighs before rubbing his fingers on your soaked panties, listening to the little hums and whimpers that you make reactively

Swiftly, he hooks them under your panties, pulling them to the side and moving his spit covered fingers down to trace your wetness,

"So wet for me aren´t you? do you want these hm? want my fingers to fuck your little pussy?" his moan meets yours, kissing little pecks on the side of your neck again

"yes, yes please baby" you´re whining out and just after your last sound, he thrust his decorated fingers into you, humming while you squirm in his hold

"good girl, keep making cute noises, let me hear you pretty" his fingers increase their speed, making their way in deep into you, while his other hand stays caressing your thighs, sometimes wandering down to press on your clit

"Kook! yes, please, so good- mnhh!"

More moans and whines leave your lips, little begs and pleas for your boyfriend slip out between them, making him moan softly in response

when you start clenching around him, squirming softly in his grasp, jungkook licks the soft skin along your neck,

"close? wanna come?" he says, making you nod frantically,

a couple seconds pass and you´re letting go all resolve on him, whimpering and clutching his wrist while he slowly stops his fingers from ramming inside of you

"my angel, the best girl look at you, came so well f'me"

you´re breathing is ragged, smiling blissfully with a little giggle, "thank you kook, you feel so fucking good"

Jungkook looks at you when your face turns to his, pressing a small kiss to your lips before smiling devilishly, plunging his fingers into his mouth, moaning at the taste of your sweet arousal,

"mhm.. and you taste so good" he smiles, nuzzling his nose to your blushing face

[anantaru]

⚝ DAY 4 — BODY WORSHIP

kinktober 2024. — masterlist | ao3

— including. — dr ratio, gallagher

— warnings. — fem! reader, body worship, fingering, constant praising <3 mating press

⚝ — DR RATIO

dr. ratio’s hands were careful, like a sculptor admiring his finest work, tracing the contours of your body with a clinical precision that gradually gives way to admiration— and his gaze moves over you with a power that makes you feel like the most exquisite specimen, every inch of your skin holding his full attention.

"perfection," the man glances down to your spread legs with your folds being on full display, the color in his tone rural, as though he’s cataloging every detail in his mind. his fingers glide between your folds, your glistening slit, before trailing up to your clit, taking in the softness of your pussy like he’s memorizing the map of your body.

veritas takes his time, always, touching you as though each movement holds the weight of discovery, as though you’re the answer to a question he’s been trying to solve his entire life.

"you have no idea how perfect you are, do you?" he whispers inserts a finger and wiggles it around— the sloppy, wet noises your pussy was making only added to the aching pain in his cock.

he admires the way your muscles constrict around a single finger, how he shifts inside your skin and curls his digit, the smooth lines of your wall being slippery and so hot.

his lips brush over your collarbone as he inserts a second finger, then lower as he groans softly. "i could study you for hours… every inch of you is a masterpiece," his hips begin to grinf into the mattress as he toys with your pussy, stuffing you with two digits and scissoring them inside your drenched insides before taking a tit in his mouth.

one good suckle sent you up against the wall and he sees it— more precisely it's your teeth dug into your lower lip and your fingers digging into his shoulders as your toes curl into the blankets, mind fuzzy with being so loved, so cherished and appreciated by the man you so desperately desired.

⚝ — GALLAGHER

gallagher had a way of being more on the direct side— if you catch my drill, unable to hide the awe in his gaze as his eyes roam across your form.

"damn, look at you," he breathes and smirks, the lust in his demeanor exuding the most intoxicating energy. his hands move immediately to your side, fingers tracing every curve, every line, like he’s trying to commit it all to memory, afraid he might miss something and needs to do it again— maybe then he should use his mouth to kiss every curve of your flesh.

there's a hunger in his eyes you were instantly deciphering, a hidden force to show just how much he adores every inch of you.

"you're… perfect," he brushes over your cheek.

gallagher tilts his head, eyes lingering on the smooth expanse of your stomach before his fingers side down to your thighs, making you wrap them around his waist.

his grip tenses slightly, his thumbs brushing the curve of your hips with an almost possessive severity as his cock stood erected and proudly between your folds.

"i don’t think you understand how beautiful you are," he takes his length before playfully slapping his tip against your pussy— once, twice, leaning down to press his lips to your shoulder as he opts to slide himself inside.

"fuck, ugh—always so tight," he rasps and rolls his eyes, biting into his lower lip to prevent his groan from coming out too loud as your hands find refuge in his disheveled hair, holding him in place.

his hips move forward with a deep rut, sliding in sloppily now while barely maintaining an even form— although that doesn't stop gallagher to fling your legs over his shoulders and press your thighs against your stomach to make you real tight for him, real messy and ugh, the view must be the most beautiful to him.

your face with tears bedding your lashes, your pouty lips being all bitten and pulsing, your pussy spread apart and fighting to keep him in as you squeeze and squeeze and squeeze him so dearly he notices a heart beat down there— while the sound of your juices were too distracting as well, gallagher might just need to take a taste of it first.

©2024 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify

[rmadridcore]

Boyfriend Headcanons

Pairing: Jude Bellingham x Reader

Requested

Word Count: 1K

Author's note: Another request, thank you anon! Enjoyyy 🫂🩷

He’s not joking when he says it was love at first sight.

That boy saw you and you knocked the wind out of him. Like, every single cheesy love song suddenly made sense to him. Not that he’s complaining.

“Babe, I saw you, and I was done for.” And he means it. Really means it.

Jude is a serious simp. Like, on another level. No shame though.

He is the sweetest, most thoughtful boyfriend in the world.

He is the type of boyfriend to leave little notes in random places, like in your bag or on the mirror.

“Missed you already” or “You’re my favorite part of the day” in his messy handwriting.

He has your favorite snacks on hand 24/7, tucking them in your bag when you’re not looking. He gets so excited picturing you reaching in later and lighting up.

He’s the biggest tease in the world, not letting a day pass without some good natured ribbing.

Everyone knows he’s extremely competitive. You would think that he would be a gentleman and let you win when you two play games but no. He lost? Oh, he’s pouting until you bribe him with kisses all over his face.

Jude is low-key so overprotective. He keeps you close in a crowd, hand firmly laced with yours.

Also, Jude 100% knows the sidewalk rule. He always makes sure you walk outside of the sidewalk.

He’s the type of boyfriend to show that he cares for you in the smallest ways.

Always peeling the straw for you, sliding the salt over in case you need it during dinner, adjusting your scarf if it’s chilly.

By the way, you only bring your wallet for decoration when you’re out with him. He’s got you covered, period.

He’s the most supportive boyfriend ever. Whatever you’re passionate about, he’s right there. Cheering you on, sending encouraging texts before a big day, asking hundred questions about it.

He’s also the definition of impulsive gift-giver.

You remind him the color of that sweater? He’s already bought it. Found a mug with a cheesy pun you’d love? Done. “Can never have too much,” he says with a smirk.

He’s absolutely obsessed with the bond you have with his family. His parents adore you and he couldn’t be happier about that but, but, truth be told, he finds the fact that you and Jobe are always ganging up on him very annoying.

He’s an actual cuddle monster. Literally. If you’re with him and he doesn’t have his arms wrapped around you, what is he doing?

He swears his arms were “made to hold you,” but he also loves resting his head on your chest, loving when you play with his hair. The little spoon sometimes is his spot.

He says he loves to cook but that is the biggest lie known to a man. He just loves being in the kitchen while you’re cooking. He’ll sing into the spatula, mess with the ingredients, and kiss your neck until you end up doing most of the work.

“Just here for moral support,” he’ll say, grinning while you roll your eyes.

Subtle PDA is his specialty. He doesn’t go overbroad, but he’ll lace his fingers with yours in public, place his hand on your lower back, squeeze your thigh and lean in just close enough to let everyone know you’re his.

Good morning texts, guaranteed. Whether it’s his sleepy face selfie from bed, a quick snap from training, or a random shot of something that reminds him of you, he makes sure you start your day with a smile.

He asks the most random questions at the most random moments. You could be lounging on the couch with him and he’d be like “If animals could talk, which one you reckon would be the rudest?” Or, “Who do you think would win in a dance off, me or my coach?”

You both have tons of inside jokes. Sometimes it takes a one look or a one word and you’re both cracking up uncontrollably.

He is actually obsessed with snapping candid shots of you. Whether you’re laughing with friends, squinting at the menu, or lost in thought, he loves capturing you in your most natural moments.

Jude has this adorable habit of kissing your forehead at the most random times. If you’re talking excitedly about something, he’ll suddenly lean over, press a kiss to your forehead, and say, “I love how passionate you get about this.”

When he does it in public, he’ll pull you close with a slight smirk, like he’s silently telling everyone around just how much he adores you.

He’s memorized exactly how you like your coffee and surprises you with it just the way you like when you’re feeling lazy in the morning.

If you’re still in bed, he’ll bring it to you, placing a gentle kiss on your shoulder to wake you.

Sometimes, he’ll try to make cute designs in the foam but laugh when they look more like blobs.

He’ll randomly offer you a piggyback ride, even if you’re just walking a short distance. He claims it’s because he’s “keeping you safe” but really just loves carrying you around.

If you’ve had a long day, he’ll give you a piggyback ride all the way to bed, tucking you in with a soft kiss on your forehead and a cheeky, “Lucky I’m here, huh?”

When he’s away, he leaves you cute, funny voice notes throughout the day. They range from “Hey, miss you” to “Guess what I saw today?”

Sometimes, he tries to make up a song about you, laughing through it because he’s making up random lyrics that don’t rhyme.

Whenever you have a small problem, like a squeaky door, a broken lamp, or your favorite necklace clasp breaking, Jude takes it as his personal mission to fix it, even if he doesn’t know how.

He’s ridiculously proud when he finally fixes something and says he’s “earning boyfriend points.”

Jude often talks about the future with you in it. He’ll casually say things like, “When we have a place together…” or “Our future kids would be the cutest,” and then he’ll get adorably shy, rubbing the back of his neck, realizing what he just said.

In conclusion, Jude Bellingham is a huge boyfriend material.

[r3starttt]

CEO! ABBY

Ceo! Abby who one day saw you in the office and couldn't stop thinking about you, has she met you before? have you maybe worked more than once with her but she's suddenly realizing you're here?

Or Ceo! Abby who saw you in one of the many fancy places she goes and had to ask for your number to keep in contact with such gorgeous woman!!!!!

Ceo! Abby who whatever scenario she knows you from, had a hard time finding the right way and words to approach to you without looking creepy (as in, don't even look at me I bite) or awkward (as in look at me I have money!)

Ceo! Abby who spoils you ridiculously frequent, for whatever reason. You want something? Just ask!

Ceo! Abby who has the softest spot for you. Who calls you any free time she has just to hear your voice or get some comfort. Who messages you when she gets the chance or she's bored in a meeting just to remind you how much she loves you and how she can't wait for the day to end to just see you and talk and cuddle :(

Ceo! Abby who also, sometimes (a lot) calls you or messages you because she's missing you and your body and your voice and can't help but get ridiculously and humiliatingly wet at the pure thought of you l

Ceo! Abby who sends you pics of her fits in the most delicious angles! Her lap, her hands holding her morning coffee, her hands innocently displayed over her lap. Her braid all messy after a looong day, or her hair loosened if you asked her to do so because yes, this is another way of spoiling her girl.

Ceo! Abby who's all mean and tough with everyone, not allowing any mistake, having assistants for everything and always busy. All that except for you, who gets the special treatment. She's never, ever, busy (only if u ask)

Ceo! Abby who takes you everywhere she goes, pays the most expensive hotels, experiences, all for you and for your hard work of keeping her zen and accompanied even when you don't have to.

Ceo! Abby who has the most gorgeous style ever?!!!?! She always looks so good and smells so good. Not only at work but on her daily life, she's always so pretty!!!

Ceo! Abby who makes sure she isn't the only one looking hot and gorgeous and pretty. Who makes sure you wear the most expensive clothes. Who also knows she has to take advantage of it, buying you clothes she wants to see you wearing whether they are your style or no.

Ceo! Abby who loves having the most rough sex on her desk but is sooo polite and nice at home. She simply can't contain herself and who are you to deny anything she asks!

Ceo! Abby who's definitely wearing a strap under her suits.

Ceo! Abby who loves spreading your lipstick all over your face (her own too duh) your gloss too. And who loves helping you choose the color for your next lipstick precisely because of that

Ceo! Abby who makes sure to leave bruises all over your skin if there's the chance. Who loves you leaving bruises on her because who tf is gonna say anything? they're done if they dare yk?

[sweetiecutie]

Part five: strap on 🩷 Kinktober Masterlist 🩷

Pairing: Valeria Garza x fem! Reader

Warnings: NSFW, mdni, strap on, overstimulation, mommy kink, lesbians in love

- Aw, what’s the matter hermosa? Is it too much for you to take? - Valeria tutted at your squealing, her fingers gripping your thighs even harder, blunt nails leaving bright semi-circles on your skin. Her hips snapped hard against yours, 7 inch strap burying deep inside your raw pussy, silicone tip of was nudging your poor cervix, causing a small bulge to appear on your tummy.

- Can’t… Can’t take more mommy, - you whined, writhing in her tight grip. She’s been at it for hours, holding your legs opened wide, fucking you into a babbling senseless mess, wringing one orgasm out of you after another. Your whole body shook with intensity of pleasure, toes curling every time Valeria shoved all of her length in your sopping cunt, your juices covering her lower stomach, causing bronze skin glisten wetly.

- It’s up to me wether you can take more or not, - her stern voice boomed, dominant tone she uttered these words with made your cunny clench desperately around thick shaft, eyes rolling back into your skull as it grazed all the sweetest spots inside of you repeatedly. - Look at you, so pretty on mommy’s strap. You’ve been thinking about this whole day, haven’t you? Sending me those photos like a needy little bitch, just wanting me to destroy you completely.

You only managed to nod your head, too cockdrunk to form a coherent sentence. You did feel needy, thinking that sending Valeria a few nudes in that sexy new set you got recently was a good idea. Well, it worked all too well - her bending you over first flat surface in your house seconds after finally getting back home, nimble fingers scissoring your drooling pussy open before fucking her biggest strap inside of your greedy warmth, making you purr and squeal under your wife’s rough touch.

Valeria reached for your tits, grabbing a handful of soft pudge, cruel fingers twisting your nipple out, mixing slight pain into concoction of pleasure, turning your brain into thoughtless mush. Her other had was busy bullying your swollen clit, each swipe of calloused fingertip against exposed tip sent electric shocks running up and down your spine, setting your nerves alight. Your back arched off soft mattress, hands gripping onto now messy sheets, needing something to hold onto.

- Fuck, mami, gonna cum! Can I please cum? Please… - you wailed, a heavy feeling setting in the pit of your stomach, thick strap ramming in and out of you along with Valeria’s relentless abuse on your clit drew you closer to your orgasm. Your eyes watered with tears of pleasure as you gazed up at Garza, a smug smirk curled her lips as black eyes studied your every smallest feature intently.

- Yes, you can cum, - she said finally, her voice a bit breathy from exertion with which she was fucking you. And with that a dam broke - thick pleasure crashed over you like a tidal wave, subduing all the colors and sounds around, only leaving place for pure euphoria to ripple through your veins.

Valeria fucked you through your high, prolonging it as much as she could, trying to burn your precious expression in her brain, sexy sounds of your release made her heart beat faster with excitement. As you slowly came back to your senses a satisfied grin made its way onto your flushed face; you puckered out your lips indicating that you wanted a kiss, in which Valeria gladly indulged.

There really wasn’t anything else Valeria needed - all she has ever longed for was here, laying underneath her and giggling at her in post-coital giddiness, causing Garza’s cold soldier heart to skip a beat at intensity of her adoration for you.

But well, maybe pulling one more orgasm out of you would make Valeria even happier?

[primalsouls]

pretty like a gem

'malipo' kinich x gn! reader

as long as i don't show you what's ruining my head funny thing about you is you read me pretty well

theme: fluff

warning: none, probably ooc

summary: the little beading gemstone twinkled under the ray of sun peeking through their window. can (name) find the courage to give kinich this gift? or would kinich find out himself, again?

notes: made another one lol i just really love kinich right now. so enjoy this fic too~ reblogs, comments and other feedback are appreciated!

the beads of the bracelet twinkled under the heated rays of the sun. the gemstone showed its marble beauty. (name) was happy with the way the bracelet turned out. They requested it from a jeweler in inazuma after finding a pretty gem in one of their shipments. The color of the gem reminded them of a saurian hunter they started to date not too long ago. 

(name) didn’t plan to keep it to themself. they wanted to gift it to kinich but they haven’t found the courage to handle it over to the dendro user. The bracelet rested beside their nightstand in a small present, just waiting to be gifted to the hunter. (name) sighed. their own eyes stared at the wrapped box. a hand reached out and took the bracelet out of its box, admiring it all over again since they first laid eyes on it. would kinich even wear the little jewelry? they were sure ajaw would make fun of kinich for wearing such a silly thing. 

even when the annoying little bastard wasn’t around, (name) could already hear the berating comments thrown towards them. 

The merchant looked up from their sulky position when a few knocks bounced off their wooden door. 

“coming…” they called out, placing the bracelet inside their pocket. opening the door, they were surprised to see the person they were just thinking about. “kinich!” they greeted, smiling widely at the hunter. kinich opened his mouth to speak but a certain entitled digital dragon blocked his view of his partner. 

“you should be addressing the almighty dragonlord k’uhul ajaw first! then kiss our feet the moment we waltz into your messy home!!”

“hell no.” (name) deadpanned, their eyes void of warmth when they looked at the little creature.

“what!? you dared disgrace your dragonlord in such a distasteful manner!? i’ll have you kno—” kinich quickly grabbed the little lizard and threw him over his shoulder, closing the door right away to keep him out. (name) bit back a laugh at the interaction, grinning over at the dark-haired hunter. kinich glanced at the seller, a faint smile on his light tanning face. 

“sorry about him.” kinich began but was interrupted by a pair of lips he had come to enjoy for the past couple of months. his arms wrapped around the merchant’s figure, pulling them closer to deepen the kiss. (name) pulled slightly away from the kiss, their eyes locking in with the dual-colored ones. yep, just like the gemstone. the electro user gave a warm smile, pulling away from the embrace. “i’ve come by to let you know the tribe would be holding a gathering for the traveler’s help with the mountain king.”

ah, (name) had forgotten about the situation regarding the giant beast who rested underground. they remembered how kinich expressed the value the mountain king held for the tribe. they were glad the legendary duo was able to help their boyfriend out. 

“sounds festive.” (name) commented, watching kinich peek out the window. perhaps to check on the dragonlord he dealt a pack with. “i’m glad you guys made it out safe. Well, except for ajaw, i guess.” (name) joked, earning a soft chuckle from their boyfriend. their hand reached into their pocket where the bracelet was hidden away, a debate going on in their mind. kinich turned back to his partner, seeing a look of concentration aimed down at the hand inside their pocket. the saurian walked over, quietly reaching over to take their wrist and pulled the hand out of the pocket. his eyes narrowed a bit to squint at the item in their closed fist. (name) snapped out of their zoned space the moment their hand was held out. kinich nodded at the bracelet in their hand. “oh.. i-i, um…” (name) was at a loss for words. so, wordlessly, they took kinich’s hand and placed the bracelet on his palm. 

“is not yours?” kinich asked, looking over the little jewelry. 

“no... it’s meant for you,” (name) muttered, swallowing their nervousness before continuing. “it matches your eyes…” a faint blush decorated their cheeks, their gaze avoiding the other’s eye, who’s widened at the gift. kinich stared between the jewel and his partner, the corners of his lips curled upwards. 

“thank you… it’s pretty.” the dark-haired hunter said, placing a cherished kiss on their blushing cheek as he placed the bracelet on his other wrist. “c’mon, let’s go celebrate.”

[latenightdaydreams]

König x Cockwarming!Reader (fem)

MDNI🔞

>CW: fem/afab reader, weed smoking, cock warming, p in v, slight pee but not a major focus

1.9k word count

For more: Master list

.

.

.

König walked through the front door of the house and started to take off his boots followed by his gear. He can hear coughing in the house, he knew you were smoking weed. You’re his little stoner baby. He began to walk to the stairs before climbing them and making his way to the bedroom. He saw you sitting on the bed crisscross with a pink bong in your hands. You’re taking a long hit before you look up and let out a slow stream of smoke.

“Hey Kö,” You smile at him. Your eyes red from smoking for the last twenty minutes. You were wearing only one of his shirts that fit like a dress and a pair of red cotton underwear, his favorite color. The TV playing in the background on a show you’ve already watched a hundred times before.

“Hallo Liebling,” He pulls his mask off, showing his scarred face and messy blonde hair. The black eye make-up smudged across his face as he smiles at you, his sharp k9s showing.

Your eyes follow him in the room as he goes to the bathroom and begins to wash his face. You can’t help but to smirk as you watch him, wondering how you got so lucky.

“How was your day today?”

König lets out a low groan when you mention work, “It was hell. I had a group of new recruits come into my team. All so stupid, no one listens!” He complains as he turns to dry his face off on the towel behind the door.

“I’m sorry baby,” you say with an adorable pout on your face. König can’t help but to smile when he sees you.

Leaving the bathroom, he walks towards you on the bed and kneels on the ground beside you. He reaches out and grabs one of your hands and kisses it over and over again, “How was your day Schatz?”

“I cleaned and read some. Now I’m just relaxing.” You can’t help but to giggle from the way he looks at you with such loving and intense eyes. His touch is warm and tender.

“I noticed, thank you for that baby.” He kisses your hand some more before looking up at your red eyes and smirk on your face.  König slowly reaches his hand out and begins to rub your thigh, his eyes glued to the beautiful color of your soft skin. “You always look so amazing.”

You know he is wanting something as you look down into his eyes smirking, “What are you wanting?” Your tone is playful as you eye him.

A small smirk appears across his lips, “Nothing crazy…”

“Tell me.”

He climbed on to the bed slightly as you placed your bong on the bedside table. His lips kissing your thighs, “I just want to put my cock in you. I need to feel your warmth after the day I had.”

“You want to fuck?”

He gives you a look, “We make love Schatz, such vulgar vocabulary.” König laughs while he continues to kiss your legs. “I just want to relax, just sit with you on me while I read and you can keep smoking...” He wanted you to keep smoking. It was his favorite thing. When you would cock warm and smoke, your already tight pussy would clench around his cock each time you coughed and give him a small burst of pleasure.

“Okay.”

“Okay,” Königs eyes light up as he stands up off the bed and begins to undo his belt before undoing his pants. You can already see his boner through the fabric of his olive-green cargo pants. He has been thinking about coming home and doing this all day. König has his gaze locked on your panties as you reach for them and pull them off.

Stepping out of his pants and boxers, he kicks them to the side. His hand instinctively goes to his cock and lightly strokes it, pulling his foreskin back and exposing his pink tip. König opens the night stand and grabs his book before getting into bed.

“Take the shirt off too Liebling.” König says as he moves pillows around so he can sit comfortably against the headboard.

Your hands grab the hem of the shirt before pulling it over your head and exposing your breast to him. His eyes instantly glued to them as he gives you a smirk and nod of approval.

“Komm her, Prinzessin,” he slaps his thick muscular thigh as his eyes glaze over your body. His cock began to twitch with anticipation.

Your eyes go to his thighs to his cock as you crawl over to him, lowering your head to kiss his cock. His eyes watching you intensely as your lips kiss the tip, watching as you open your mouth to suck his cock. Königs hand comes down to stop you, his hand on your chin.

“Not yet,” he chuckles, enjoying your enthusiasm.

You smirk as you continue to crawl to him. His hand moves to your waist as he helps guide you to him. He turns you around so that your back is facing his chest. You reach down to grab his dick and help guide it in. A soft groan leaves his mouth as he feels your warm hand grabbing at him. Every time you touch him it feels like the first time he has ever been touched.

Slowly, the tip of his dick enters your pussy. Both of you letting out a soft moan at the same time. His fingers slightly digging into your hips slightly harder as his body reacts to yours. Relaxing more, you lower yourself more on his lap.

König closes his eyes and drops his head back against the headboard as he feels the tightness of your cunt begin to squeeze him. His hands push you down until his balls hit your clit and he can hear you let out a sudden moan.

Instinctively, you want to grind back and forth. You move your hips forward slightly when Königs grip tightens, “Nien, sit still Schatz.”

König leans over to grab your bong back for you, any slight movement making you whimper softly. It brings a smile to his face.

“Here, just relax, okay Liebling?”

You grab your bong from him and agree. He grabs his book and begins to read. You lean back softly on his broad chest and continue to watch your TV show.

König takes a few deep inhales, getting a mix of weed and your natural scent. Leaning in and kissing the side of your neck once before leaning back again and opening his book to where he left off.

You light the bowl and begin to inhale a big hit. Too big.

Trying to maintain composure, you slowly begin to exhale. This doesn’t work as you begin to cough hard. Behind you, König is biting his lips together so he doesn’t let out a loud moan. His eyes slightly fluttering as every cough your sweet cunt bares down around his cock that already has no room. A slight bouncing movement your body makes too drives him wild. Once you stop coughing, he speaks up.

“You okay Maus?” His voice slightly hoarse when he asks it, his free hand lightly rubbing your back.

Giggling, you nod and let out another cough. “I’m okay.”

“Good,” his free hand leaves your back and snakes around your waist to hold you back against him. Slowly he moves his hand up to your breast where he begins to lightly tug at your hardened nipple. Gently caressing the area in a slow circle motion before pulling his hand away to turn the page.

Time passes as the episode you’re watching ends. You light your bong again to take a hit. König notices and gets excited, hoping it’s too much and you cough again.

You take a deep inhale and feel that burning sensation as you let the smoke out and begin to cough hard.

König moves his free hand to caress your thigh, feeling the warm and soft flesh. Your pussy clamping down tightly around his cock sent small shock waves of pleasure down his spine. All of the sudden, a new sensation happened. A warm strickle flows over the sensitive tight skin of his balls, exciting him even more.

Your face turns red as you realize with all the hard coughing, you’ve accidentally peed a little. You lean over and place your bong down on the bedside table as you prepare to get off of him.

“I’m sorry” you laugh half from embarrassment and half because you’re high and can see the humor in the situation.

König snakes his arm around your waist while letting out a soft chuckle, “Where do you think you’re going? Hm?” He kisses your neck softly as he pulls you to him.

“To clean up-”

“I’m not done yet.” He cuts you off with a soft tone as he continues to kiss your neck. “Don’t worry about that, it’s natural. I’ll clean up later.” He reassures you as he picks up his book again.

You relax back against his chest again, feeling very high now. The show you’re watching is entertaining you anymore. All you can feel is full. His fully erect cock stuffed deep in your pussy, twitching occasionally making you want friction. Your hands find themselves busy as one goes to one of your breasts and begins to play with your nipple and the other begins to make light circles over your clit. The sound of your wet pussy beginning to catch König’s attention.

“What are you doing Liebling?” He leans forward to catch a glimpse.

“I need more,” your voice sounding pathetic.

“More? You don’t like just relaxing with me?” He teases you as his hand goes around and pushes yours away from your clit. He pinches the little bud in between two fingers and gently begins to roll it back and forth. “Suck your juices off Maus,” he demands, “You’re so wet.”

You bring the tips of your fingers to your lips as you begin to lick them before softly sucking on your fingertips. A look of pleasure washes across your face as you start to rock your hips back and forth. König doesn’t stop you. Instead, he takes a deep breath and enjoys it.

You lean forward and grab his muscular thighs as you begin to slowly bounce. König removes his hand from your clit and leaning back to watch your ass bounce with every movement. He reaches his hand out as caresses the curve of your body.

“God you’re beautiful,” he moans.

König bends his knees slightly as he leans you back towards him. His hands moving down your legs, grasping your thighs and holding them up as your back lays flat against his chest. He begins to buck his hips upwards, rapidly.

The wet sound of your pussy and your pathetic whimpers are all he can focus on. His eyes close tightly as he rests his head back against the headboard.

“Fuck!” You moan out loudly as he begins to fuck you as you’ve been desperately wanting. “I’m so close.”

“Ja, cum on my cock.” König moans breathlessly. He keeps the same motion until he can feel you begin to clench around him and your legs begin to tremble. A white ring forms around the base of his cock as he feels you get wetter. He can’t hold on anymore.

“Oh Liebling,” König whimpers as he begins to slow his pace as his cock throbs inside of you, painting your walls with his seed.

He slowly let’s go of the tight grip he has on your thighs as he lowers your legs. He kisses your head and neck softly as you both begin to relax. His big arms wrapping around your waist tightly to hold you in place, keeping his cock in you using it like a plug to keep all of his cum in.

[ktaerssoi]

hii baba can you do one for nika where reader is genos daughter or granddaughter and like nika really thinks reader is prettt and is infatuated with her and geno and the team make fun of how blushy nika gets when reader is around?

flustered

relationship: nika mühl x fem!reader summary: basically the request notes: hey babes! sorry i just got around to posting..anyway i made slime with my lovely girlfriend who then watched me write this! (her slime looks like shit. jk!) not proof read! (830)

your grandfather, head coach at UConn had invited you to come to one of the team practices. It was your junior year at the school and Geno had been interested in you potentially becoming team manager. 

you, on the other hand, didn't have much interest in the sport. you had grown up with it, yes, but you didn't pay any mind to it. you would sport UConn colors and jerseys when you went to games, but you never kept up with anything unless your grandfather had told you. 

however, when you stepped foot into the locker room when you went to the first practice with your grandfather, you met the team and got to know their personalities you reconsidered the idea of managing. 

-

now, it being your second year in the position you knew all the girls and had grown close with everyone. you treated everyone equally and tried to stop yourself from favoriting others. that being said, you always seemed to fold when it came to nika. 

it had been the joke of the year that she was into you, and you really didn't mind. (even if you would never admit it) she was pretty and always had a positive outlook, not to mention her cute accent. 

"dude you really have got to get a grip," you turned to see paige talking to nika as they walked into the locker room, your eyebrows knitting together at the possible reasoning for paige's words. 

"what's up guys?" you waved as you spoke, watching as paige and nika smiled at you. yet, you don't miss the look paige gives nika. 

"oh nothing, nika is just plotting on how to ask you out. normal things." paige shrugs, her signature smirk on her face. you roll your eyes, looking to nika to see her cheeks flushed. 

"bueckers five laps." you cross your arms as you grin, knowing that she really couldn't say no to you. "what? no way, you're not the coach!" she groans, but goes to put her bags down nonetheless. "i've got the same last name, it counts!" you smirk as you watch her start running. 

"you hot? you're a little red in the face over there.." you turn to nika, a playful "pfft" coming from your mouth as she turns away, getting impossibly redder. "shut up," nika mumbles, and before long you guys get to talking about random things completely forgetting about the comment. 

some of the girls had walked into the gym, Inês pointing at the two of you with a questioning look while she grabbed some things from her locker. "nika did you finally do it?" you turned around confused, and Inês' eyes widened before she quickly shut up. 

practice started shortly after, and you headed back to your office, trying to find a hotel for the team for their game against Duke. 

-

two hours later the team files into the locker room, the noise level rising considerably. your door was closed and the blinds were drawn, not only to give the girls whatever privacy a locker room can permit, but to try and help you focus. 

planning out places the school could afford along with having them be big enough for the team was proving to be difficult lately. you're pulled out of your thoughts by a knock at the door, yelling a quick come in before Nika opens the door. 

"hey nika, what's up?" you smile, crossing your arms over your chest as you look at her. "oh nothing much, um, i was just wondering ifmaybeyouwantedtogetdinnersometime?" you think you just got whiplash from that statement. "what?" you could not hear a word she said. 

Nika takes a deep breath, leaning against the door. she looked good, her hair messy from practice. she was glowing, per usual. "um, i was wondering..if maybe you wanted to get dinner sometime? it can be just as friends! or not, i mean, i don't know, but you know?" 

you smile at her, nodding. "yeah sure, I would love to go on a date with you! is it like a double date where you bring a guy and i bring one?" you giggle as you watch her face fall "i'm kidding, that sounds fun nika, i would love to." 

she releases the breath she didn't know she was holding, and she smiles at you. you were quickly distracted by KK slamming the door open, almost pushing nika over, and yelling. "did you do it?! please tell me you did it i cannot keep getting calls at 2am from you." 

nika's face goes bright red as she nods, the team cheering in the back. "she's been meaning to do that for almost two years!" paige yelled from her locker, shaking her head. you turn to nika to see her shrugging. 

"i thought you were cute?" she smiles innocently as you shake your head with a smile. "well at least i finally understand all the jokes about you being in love with me." 

[ajortga]

sweet

pairing: jenna ortega x fem reader

summary: after filming, jenna decides to relax for some coffee, not expecting to meet you and fall in love with girl that makes her knees weak.

word count: 1.9k+

read the next parts here! : part 2 part 3

Jenna can remember meeting you like it was yesterday.

At a coffee shop, not too far from the scream set in New York City.

She roamed around, it was evening, the sun was going to set soon, Jenna could tell the way the sky slightly became yellow, getting the slightest pink.

Jenna liked sunsets.

She had just finished filming for a scene, her headphones were on and she needed some fresh air. 

Her noise cancellation was on, walking the streets as she felt her stomach rumble quietly, she was hungry.

She looked around for a place to snack as she looked around, a famous pizzeria was definitely not what she needed.

She turned a corner and she saw a place that was made out of caramel bricks, plants neatly outside with vines hanging from head to toe, she could see the warm welcoming presence on the inside, lanterns hung from the ceiling.

She didn’t really like coffee.

It was so bitter the first time she tried it, of course she didn't know (till recently) that she ordered black coffee with no sugar or creme and almost choked it out.

So she stopped, if anything it added less sleep along with her insomnia.

But she went anyway, the vibe felt comforting. Plus there had to be more than just bitter coffee.

She pushed the door open, a small ding being heard.

Then she could smell the soft scent of coffee and fresh pastries lingering, she felt her hands cold, but her gaze shifts up, and she can feel her whole body warm, like a cozy fire, suddenly, she felt nothing but a daze of love shock.

Her eyes meet your figure, your hair was in a messy bun, a ruffled beige apron tucked around your body over a blouse, pouring creamer in a latte cup, a flower design being made as you traced the coffee with soft hands.

Your focused eyes shift from the cup to her, she can see a small glow in your warmth, they soften as you smile, waving. Softly, but loud enough to hear over her headphones, you saying, “Welcome!” 

She can feel her lips twitch into a smile, tucking her scarf beneath the nape of her neck, it was already warm enough here.

She looked up at the menu, so much to choose from.. And so many flavors.

She bit her lip, in thought as she was stuck, there was a lot.

But so much coffee, she may have not liked coffee the best, but coffee with this many flavors could change her mind.

She was there for a long moment, until you spoke up, you were in front of her, thinking she was going to order, she was standing in front of the cashier after all.

“Trouble choosing what you want?” You ask, tilting your head.

That took her out of her trance, taking her headphones off and wrapping them around her neck. She finally realized where she was standing, in front of the damn register.

“Oh I’m so sorry, I can be kind of clueless when I have headphones on, uh, um. Oh yes, I’m not so sure what to get, I’ve never been here.”

You give her a smile, and she can swear she feels her legs wobble, she could drown in those eyes. So pretty..

“Don’t apologize, please. Don’t worry, it’s okay not knowing what you want, to be honest I think you would like a drink. I think you would like our french vanilla or pumpkin spice latte.. With a sprinkle of cinnamon. How does that sound? This is just my recommendation, I could be wrong, but I think I can read what people should get pretty well! They end up liking it. Don’t count on me though,” You breathe with a little laugh. You sound adorable when you laugh. Your lips are perfect. Kissable.

She feels something she hasn’t felt in so long, butterflies. 

You were so sweet, something about you made her not want to tell you she didn't like caffeine or the taste. 

You just called her love, if anything the color of love was on her cheeks.

“I.. Um.. Yes, I’ll take that. Can you mix those?…”She was going to say your name but didn’t know it, looking down at your name tag, Y/N/L/N. “Uh.. Oh Y/N."

“Of course I can! One french vanilla spice coming up! Anything else you would like? Our pastries just came out of the oven if you’re in the mood for that.”

You were pretty. Unlike any other stranger she'd see on the street before.

Jenna looked at the display, her hand pointing to where her eyes landed, “I’ll take one of your strawberry croissants, I never tried that.”

“You never had these? These are perfectly sweet and soft! They’re my favorite. That’ll be $8.13 please.”

She grabbed her card and swiped it, and you smiled, “Thank you Jenna, give me 5 minutes or so.” You looked at the name of her card.

You look at the names of her customers from their card, how cute. You definitely wanted her. (Or so her delusional brain thought.)

After a few minutes of sitting down and lost in her thoughts from the music, (possibly staring at you preparing her drink the whole time,) she hears you call her name in the distance.

Something about your voice had the slightest softness, she never loved someone calling her her name more than now. Y/N/L/N. Your name is pretty. It'll be even prettier when your last name is hers when you're married-

She walked up to you and you handed her a light brown tray, with her latte in a cup, the design with a pumpkin with a small heart on it, and her powdered strawberry croissant. 

“Thank you.” She whispers, taking it gently and going back.

She sits down in the corner of the room, a booth with a pumpkin decoration and vinyls hung, she could see the steam fogging in front of her and just realizes how cold it really is.

She smells cinnamon, a small whiff of it.

She likes the smell of cinnamon. It reminds her of her childhood home on Christmas when snickerdoodles were being made.

She smells vanilla too.

She likes vanilla. She likes vanilla more than chocolate.

Her hands lifts the mug to her lips and drinks.

Immediately she feels the warmth seep through her like a gentle river, she hums at the taste.

The vanilla battles the strong bitterness of the coffee, leaving the smallest trail behind.

The pumpkin spice, she can taste it in the cream, it reminds her of fall.

It tastes comforting. It tastes like the feel of a steamy creamy soup that you have when it’s pouring rain outside. 

It makes her feel soothed. Cozy. Like she’s in her own Gilmore Girls show herself. 

Her lips press to the mug for the second time, sipping it again and it tastes so good. It’s not too sweet nor bitter. It tastes perfect. It warmed her whole body up, even with the freezing temperature.

She places the mug down on the wooden coaster, she’s never had a strawberry croissant before. 

And when she has a taste, she wants to buy the whole shop. Why has she never heard of this before?

There's a sweet fluffy cream in the middle, she can feel powdered sugar coating her lips as she licks them. 

It tasted sweet. It was light and delicious, the custard complimenting the sweetened strawberry. Who knew bread could pair with such. 

“Is it okay for you?””

She turns around and sees you, it seems like the rest of the customers had to go out before the pouring rain began to crash harder.

“It was more than okay, it was so good. I need that recipe,” Jenna jokes, making you laugh.

“The croissant is my grandma’s recipe. I remember she  made it when I first started baking in the kitchen. She thought it was so good that she had to put it on this cafe’s menu. For the latte on the other hand, you just have to know balance and what tastes right.”

Jenna’s slim hands waved a 5 dollar bill in the air, in which you immediately shook your head. 

“Take it,” she giggles.

“No, it’s yours.”

"No."

"Yes."

"If you keep it I'll give you my number."

... That was tempting for you.

“I wasn’t a big fan of caffeine in general. It was always too bitter or too sweet. I think it ruined the experience for me to try anymore. Take this as a word that I’ll be coming often,” she gave you a sweet smile, giving you a piece of paper on top of the money.

You looked at her with, a small grin forming on your face as you looked up, “You win. Thank you. look forward to you being a regular. I'll make your coffee extra lovely and sweet next time," you said with a wink that made Jenna blush.

Jenna’s smile never faltered as she left the coffee shop, seeing your number on her phone as she placed it in her back pocket. But as she tried to slide it in, it seemed a bit cramped as she took out the piece of paper that was blocking it. 

A five dollar bill. The five dollar bill she gave you.

She sighed, shaking her head with a small laugh, you were a smartass sliding the money she gave you back into her pocket without her knowing.

She folded it in her hands, looking back at the coffee shop, wanting to give it back and run so you couldn’t do anything. But as she looked back she could see the fairy lights on the sign dimming, your face behind the glass. You gave her a small playful wink as you flipped the sign to closed, your breath blew on the glass, putting a small heart on the fogginess and walked away.

Something in Jenna made her heart flutter, wanting to go to the coffee shop every day. Every. Single. Day.

But why? When she goes to restaurants she doesn’t seem excited to come again.

She could feel her cheeks heating up as she realized it was because of you. She wanted to come because of you and see your face, to see you giving her that smile or calling her name, to hear your voice as you talked to her, to see your pretty eyes glance down to her lips every once a while once again.

4:25pm

maybe y/n: sweet seeing you today, hope you didn't mind some money back, this is all i need :)

4:28pm

jenna: ooh. getting sweet already? hmmm, you're sneaky! maybe i'll pay you another visit tomorrow. (you reacted with 💗)

maybe y/n: aww, for me?

jenna: i wouldn't count on ittt but maybe it's a 50/50

4:30pm

maybe y/n: i don't think a customer would ask for someones phone number as an agreement?

..

4:35pm

jenna: you got me there

maybe y/n: i know i did jen :p

maybe y/n: don't get ahold of yourself, i still have to know you better ml

jenna: then tomorrow is set.

maybe y/n: tomorrow it issss (jenna reacted with a 😗)

She covered her face and let out a small groan as she came home, her back hitting the mattress as she looked up at the ceiling. She could feel a small grin forming on her face as her eyes sparkled, her nose scrunching.

She liked the girl who lay behind the mug of coffee.

She liked you.

-

a/n: wanted to take a small break on requests, i think i should focus on thinking of my ideas instead of doing request one by one from my inboxes, if that makes sense. requests are soon!

i'm not sure if i'll take some because sometimes these requests don't have any of my ideas in mind so it's hard to write something that feels good<3. enjoy this cute long ish drabble that i made a few months back but never finished<3

[isawritesshit]

thinking about geto 🤭. nsfw under the cut so minors dni.

tw: dom bf geto, gn reader, virgin/sub reader, voyeurism, masturbation, mentions of porn, mentions of spit, cum eating, etc.

you didn't know how you got into this situation. what was supposed to be just a day in with your boyfriend, suguru geto, turned into him straddling your body as you laid on his bed, watching as he stroked his cock right in front of you.

you were a virgin. he knew this, so lately, the two of you had been working you up to get more comfortable with sex instead of rushing into it all at once, which you appreciated. this is one of the ways he decided to do it.

you've watched solo male porn before, but with how embarrassed you were right now, it was almost like you've never seen a cock in your life. but you couldn't look away.

it was no secret that suguru's looks were heavenly; practically the peak male specimen, with that type of soft yet masculine male beauty that could make anyone swoon. but this version of him in front of you was so raw and visceral, and in the best way possible: the faint afternoon sunlight highlighting his sculpted body and the sheen of sweat that covered it, his hair half pulled back and messy, bare chest heaving, muscles flexing with each movement, and voice groaning so deliciously it made your own voice come out every so often as you watched.

he smiled a little as you watched his hand intently. earlier, he had you spit into his hand for lubricant, and since then, you had been focused on his ministrations, only breaking your concentration to look up at him with lidded eyes. it made him proud, being the only one that can make you like this. this little show was more for you then it was for him, after all.

you bit your lip as you watched him pump his cock in his pretty hands, taking note of how he squeezed upwards towards the tip and swiped his thumb to spread the pre-cum that leaked out. he looked so thick. you knew that if you tried to put your hand around it, your fingers wouldn't even be able to wrap all the way around. fuck.

he chuckled at your flushed face, how wide your pupils were with lust and desire. so perfect, and all for him. he used his other hand to reach down and caress the side of your face, tracing down your jaw, your neck and collarbone, your chest, before placing a hand over your heart and staring deep into your eyes. he let out a strained, low moan that set your insides on fire, and that's when you realized. he wasn't just getting of through his hand...

he was getting off to the sight of you in front of him, and you were fully clothed. it was then you noticed how much of an effect you had on him.

his noises increased, praises of i love you and so pretty leaving his lips as he shot his cum into his hand, some of it staining his underwear and sweatpants that were pulled down. a whine left your own throat at the sight, and then again when he gave you that look while holding up his cum-covered hand in front of you.

your embarrassment only grew when he held that hand in front of your lips, his eyebrows raising a little in a silent request. you stared down at it, taking in the off-white color, how thick yet sticky it was as it created little strings between his fingers. did he want you to-

suguru half expected you to turn your head, refuse him in some way thinking that it might have been too much for you. however, he felt his cock harden again when you took hold of his wrist and brought his hand to your lips.

your tongue lapped around his long fingers, humming at the taste of saltiness and something distinctly him. suguru started moving two of his fingers in and out of your mouth, your gorgeous eyes staring back up at him as he swore.

"fuck, sweetness. didn't think you'd have it in you... so good 'f me... don't suppose i'm turning you into a little slut now, do you? i don't think you mind, though..."

[dearharriet]

Standin’ on a Cloud; Eddie Munson ☁️

summary: your boyfriend eddie is a sweetheart, but you already knew that.

word count: 1.2K

warnings: fem!r, established relationship, fluff fluff and more fluff, nicknames (babe, baby, angel, darling, sweetums)

a/n: based on my favvvv song angel by madonna <3 i just want eddie in my room goofing around and maybe also kissing me silly :(

“My darlingest darling,” Eddie coos suddenly, buttering you up from his perch at your vanity. You glance up at him from where you’re lounging on the bed, reading a magazine. He’s been in your room for all of thirty minutes and he’s already trying to accost you.

“What do you want?” you reply bluntly, making Eddie let out a shocked laugh.

“Want?” he starts, and you know he’s about to be facetious. “Whatever do you mean, sweetums?” he teases, standing to approach your bed. “I only desire your precious time.”

You love the way Eddie moves. He’s like a dog that grew up with cats, slinking clumsily, if there ever was such a movement.

“You’re so full of it,” you whisper with faux sweetness, drawing a finger down the crease of the Rolling Stone you bought on a whim at the supermarket.

“Full of…what? Love? Full of love?” You laugh at Eddie’s absurdity and sudden closeness, his hip leant on the bed and his body folding in half to meet you face-to-face.

“Yes, of course,” you answer, “how did you know that’s what I meant?”

Eddie smiles lazily, his face slightly red from hanging sideways.

“Just one of the many super-boyfriend-powers I possess, babe. Don’t worry about it.”

“Ah, right.” You close your magazine.

With much less accusation, and double the fondness, you ask again: “What do you want?

Eddie squints like he’s not sure he can trust you. He decidedly crawls up onto the bed using only his knees, shirt riding up and arms flailing.

“Um,” he begins mindlessly, trying not to clip you in his fuss to lie down. He settles in beside you, propping his head up on his hand, eyes mischievous.

“I was just wondering,” says Eddie, "if my gorgeous girlfriend would do me a flavor and paint my nails for me?”

“A flavor,” you repeat with a small smile, pretending to read a headline about Wham! while Eddie’s warmth distracts you. Eddie hums confidently in return, like there’s nothing amiss with his word choice. Turning your head to look at him, your mouth curls into a grin. “What color y’want?”

Eyes alight, Eddie rolls off the bed, presumably to raid your polish stores if he hasn’t already. Your stereo is playing a tape that Eddie sweetly curated for you, with rock ballads and indie jams he thought you’d like, and you belatedly recognize the song playing. As Eddie sifts through your colors he absently sings along, shocking you.

“—can see it in your eyes, full of wonder and surprise—” His rich timbre takes the tune on effortlessly, like he’s heard it a hundred times before.

“I thought you were against Madonna,” you mention, watching his back. He looks up at you through the vanity mirror, cutting his singing off before the chorus. Realizing he’s been caught, he sighs heavily.

“Well, yknow I was, but I think I’ve changed my tune.” Distracted, he turns around, leaning on the messy table to properly talk to you. “Cause you left that Virgin tape in my van, right?—and I was just gonna retire the poor thing but…”

“But you liked it?” you anticipate, perhaps a touch too excited to have this one thing over him.

“No,” Eddie says awkwardly, holding his mouth in an o for a moment. “But!—you played this one on the drive to Steve’s that day and I, uh—” He fiddles with his fingers, strangely sheepish.

“You what?”

Eddie spins around, back in business with your nail lacquer. You almost don’t hear him when he shyly continues.

“I guess it sorta reminded me of you,” he admits, shoving his hair behind his ear nervously.

Your stomach churns with want, a honeypot of sweetness as your eyes trace over Eddie’s figure. You’re so used to him in your room now, despite how out of place he is—dark and moody against your bright and girlish decor. Perhaps it’s because your room has obtained some Eddie-adjacent additions as time goes on: rock records and DND game items. It feels good to know that you have the same effect on him, and you’re suddenly glad you left that tape in his car. The image of him singing Angel on his way to see you is almost overwhelming.

When he finally picks a color, the song is wading into the bridge, and Eddie’s face is still pink. Madonna croons through your grainy speakers as he returns to you—I believe that dreams come true, ‘cause you came when I wished for you... Despite his blatant embarrassment, Eddie dances on the way back to the bed, almost like he can’t help it.

“Well, that’s funny,” you say, finally wrestling out of your thoughts.

Eddie entertains you, shaking the bottle of paint he’d settled on—too quickly for you to make out which it is. “Why so?”

Confidently, knowing exactly what it’d do to him, you say, “I always thought this song was about you.”

Eddie is kneeing his way onto the bed once more, his bottom lip caught under his teeth. He doesn’t lie down again, staying on his knees above you, so you flip over to avoid craning your neck.

“Babe, I’m a metalhead,” Eddie reminds you seriously, pressing his hands into the mattress on either side of you. He looks completely wrecked from your statement, but he’s doing a commendable job of pretending he disliked it. He says: “You can’t go calling me an angel or you’re gonna ruin my rep.”

Grinning, you push up onto your elbows to eat up even more of the space between you and your boyfriend.

“Well, you’d better stop being such a sweetie and making me mixes with Madonna on them, then.”

Eddie inches closer.

“But how else will I tell you what a doll you are?” he goads, and his breath warms your lips.

“Um…head banging?” you suggest helpfully. Eddie shakes his head gently so his curtain of hair tickles your face, making you giggle. He places an affectionate peck over your smile and then leans back on his haunches.

Sitting up all the way, you look to his ring-heavy hands.

“Okay, what color did we pick?”

Hesitantly, Eddie unfolds his fist to reveal a hollow box of glass on his palm, undeniably pink from the varnish it encapsulates. It doesn’t escape you that the exact same shade sits on your own fingernails. Looking up to catch his eye, you watch his face flush.

“What was that about being a metalhead?��� you tease, unable to resist. Eddie makes like he’s going to get up and pick a new color but you jump to stop him. “Oh, Eds, I’m only kidding!”

“Do you think people will laugh?” Eddie asks, and he’s oddly sincere. You pull your head back, somewhat surprised that he’d even care, but then again, most of Eddie’s song and dance about non-conformity is just that: performance. He believes it, of course, but only because he has to—because he’s not like everyone else. It’s almost impossible to be impervious to judgment, and you also think Eddie might be more worried about your guys’ friends than anyone else.

“Maybe,” you tell him, not willing to lie. “But it’s just polish. You can take it off and pretty much anybody would forget the next day. Or you could flip ‘em a pretty pink middle finger, too, ‘cause they should mind their own damn business.”

A sweet smile curls onto Eddie’s face, his brown eyes melting and gooey. He brushes a quick thumb over your jaw as a thank-you of sorts.

“Yeah?” he asks.

“Yeah,” you confirm, “yeah, I think it’s metal.”

Eddie surges forward, attacking your lips with his own. The kiss is short-lived, one closed-mouth press, but what it lacks in duration it makes up for in sweetness.

“‘Kay,” he agrees, moving to sit against your headboard. “Make me pretty.”

Crawling onto his lap obediently, you say, “Can’t make you something y’already are, angel.”

Eddie’s face turns as pink as his nails end up later.

+

thank u for reading <3

masterlist

[risriswrites]

Just Roommates

summary: a series of moments between bradley bradshaw and his roommate that prove they're a little more than "just roommates"

pairing: roommate x bradley bradshaw, fem reader

warnings: none, just some mild language and lots of fluff

author's note: this is my second fic and i just wanted to say thank you all for the love on the first one! it made my heart happy :) likes, comments, and reblogs are welcomed and appreciated!

word count: 9.1k

“Okay but hear me out. What if we painted the living room wall a pale green?” you question, gesturing to the beige wall directly across from you with a spoon, that was once being used for your bowl of cereal; which had been discarded five minutes prior in favor of the sudden inspiration to revamp the living room.

Tilting your head to the side you allow your eyes to wander the length of the wall before adding, “Not like a pastel green but more like a sage green. I think it’d compliment the couch…and the wood floors.”

Bradley was leaning in the doorframe of the hallway that led to your separate bedrooms, arms crossed over themselves and letting his eyes trail over the way you’ve perched yourself onto the granite kitchen island, one leg crossed over the other.

It was a Saturday morning, so it didn’t surprise him that you’d foregone pants and settled on an oversized t-shirt, really short shorts, and fuzzy socks. You always complained about how you couldn’t sleep if it was too hot, so he made sure to keep the thermostat at a comfortable 70 degrees, but as soon as you woke up, you’d be freezing and needed socks to keep your feet warm. He’d never understand it.

Dragging his eyes away from you he lazily glanced at the wall of the living room. Honestly, he was fine with the way it was, but he wasn’t an interior decorator, so his opinion didn’t really count for anything in the name of “design”.

“I don’t think it really matters” he shrugs, letting his eyes wander back over to you. Your hair was still a little messy from sleeping, but in way he found oddly, cute.

A huff slips past your lips as you slide off the counter and move to wash the bowl you’d been using, “Bradley, the apartment could use a little bit of color. It’s kind of bland in here,” you grimace, sparing him a quick glance before resuming your assault on the navy-blue bowl.

Sighing, Bradley pushes himself off the doorframe in favor of moving to the granite island you’d been sitting on a few moments ago, “Well, you pay for half of the apartment, so whatever you think will make the place look decent that’s up to you.”

“That’s not how decisions work between roommates, Bradley. We have to both agree with it,” you mutter.

Shaking your head you force a breath out, “Look, we can talk about it later if you want, it’s not a big deal. We can always meet in the middle and bring in a plant or something instead? You keep the neutrality of the apartment, and I can have some greenery to look at.” you negotiate, all while wiping your hands on the hand towel hanging across the bar of the oven, shooting him an awkward smile, doing your best to not glance at his naked chest.

He forces his own smile back at you and nods his head the tiniest bit to let you know he’d think about it.

With that conversation ending you decide to leave Bradley to his thoughts in favor of snuggling into the couch for some warmth and an excuse to binge watch “The Witcher”.

You and Bradley had been living together for a little over a month, having been introduced to each other through your friend Jamie.

Jamie was a landing signal officer for the navy that you had met while you were in college. He was just getting his associates degree to pass the time while he worked on achieving all of the necessary credentials to start training in the navy, and once he graduated, was stationed out in Miramar. He had worked alongside Bradley during a few different missions and had kept in contact with him over the past few years. The two were close enough that Bradley valued Jamie’s feedback and opinion, so when Bradley came to him with his roommate dilemma, he knew the perfect person to recommend.

Based on your first meeting alone you liked Bradley. He was well mannered, reserved, and yet, still had a certain rugged charm to him. And now you were here, laying on the gray couch you had convinced Bradley would look perfect in the small living space, snuggled under a knitted blanket from your grandma, as Bradley fixed himself a cup of coffee.

“I’m going to go out for a run in ten minutes, do you need anything while I’m out?” Bradley called out to you.

You tilted your head back to look at him from the throw pillow you were currently laying on, “No thanks I’m good,” you smiled, quickly turning back to your show, successfully avoiding gawking at your roommate as he maneuvered around your shared kitchen.

Ten minutes came and went, and you never heard Bradley leave the house. Crinkling your eyebrows, you sit up from your spot on the couch and peer back into the kitchen to check if Bradley had snuck out without you noticing. Only to see him sat on a barstool at the kitchen island, one arm leaning on the long piece of granite and the other holding his coffee mug in his hand, casually sipping at the hot beverage while his eyes were glued to the tv screen.

A smirk grows on your lips, “Going for a run, huh?”

Bradley’s gaze breaks from the tv screen and snaps to you, his eyebrows pinching together as he shoots you a playful glare, mumbling into his mug, “I’m about to leave.”

“Sure, you are” you snort.

Silence ensues as you continue to smirk at him and he glares at you, before finally he breaks.

“Alright fine,” he huffs, “One episode, and then I’m going for a run.”

You turn back to the tv with a knowing smile on your face before getting comfortable under your blanket again.

Bradley stays put at the kitchen island for the next episode, but once you’ve started the second, he’s gravitated to sitting on the arm of the couch.

You glance over at him every now and then, smirk growing larger with every minute he continues to sit and not leave to go for his run, too enraptured in the show currently playing on your shared tv screen.

Grasping the remote in your hand you pause the show, turning you head and quirking an eyebrow at him, “Soo…still going for that run?”

Bradley huffs and throws his head back groaning, “I need to.”

You stay in your position allowing yourself to let your gaze roll over the scars that litter his neck and along his cheek. Seeing the war waging on in his brain you decide to make it easy for him, “How about you go on that run, and I’ll just pause it until you get back? It’s on Netflix so it’s not going anywhere anytime soon.” You smile.

Bradley turns to face you, moving his arms behind him to rest on the couch, further exposing his naked chest, “You sure? I don’t wanna make you wait to finish the episode.”

You push aside any thoughts about how hot he looks right now and instead focus on his honey brown eyes, letting your smile turn into an easy smirk, “I’ll be okay Bradshaw, I’m a big girl I can wait one hour for you to finish your run.”

Bradley raises an eyebrow while leaning towards you a little bit, letting his tongue poke out to swipe across his lips before he fixes you with a sarcastic smile of his own, “Sweetheart, it’s cute you think that it’s gonna take me that longto go on a three-mile run.”

And with that statement being put out in the air, he’s moving off the couch and heading towards the door, passing the water bottle he set out earlier.

Momentarily dazed from his proximity, you regain your train of thought and call after him, “Have fun show off!”

“Don’t start that episode until I get back sweetheart!” he yells, pointing a finger back in your direction, letting the door swing closed behind him.

A snort escapes you as you take to scrolling through your phone, waiting for Bradley to come back.

And exactly twenty minutes after you last saw him; not that you were counting, Bradley strolls back inside, a sheen of sweet glistening from his chest and abs as he strides towards the water sitting on the island.

Having looked up at his arrival, you quickly force yourself to look back down, cursing under your breath at how heaven sent he looks right now.

As Bradley is unscrewing the cap from his water bottle, he glances towards you propped up on the couch scrolling through the many apps you have on your phone before he slides his gaze to the tv, smiling to himself when he sees that you’ve kept your promise in keeping the show paused.

Allowing himself a few gulps of water, he sets the bottle back on the island and turns his attention back to you, “You mind keeping it paused for a little longer? I need a shower.”

You keep your eyes glued to your phone screen, “Don’t need to ask Bradshaw, I’d rather not have you tainting our clean couch with your sweat.” You snicker, wrinkling your nose in disgust.

He just shakes his head and smiles as he sets off towards the bathroom.

Another ten short minutes had passed before Bradley saunters back into your shared living space freshly showered and wearing a pair of gray sweatpants.

You stare for all of five seconds before becoming conscious of what you’re doing and move to grab the remote that’s been lying dormant on the side table for the past thirty-five minutes, eager to distract yourself from allowing him to take up any further space in your mind.

Bradley, however, has other plans and is picking your legs up off the couch and maneuvering himself under them in order to sit, bringing them back down and settling them in his lap, unknowingly regaining your attention.

Said attention being specifically on his right hand that is currently resting on top of your left leg, allowing a warmth to settle where his hand is, and traveling up through the rest of your body, a flush no doubt currently on your cheeks. Giving your head a small shake, you press play on the remote before forcing yourself to relax into the throw pillow and focus on Geralt arguing with Jaskier.

He's your roommate.

You’re very attractive roommate, but your roommate, nevertheless. And reminding yourself of that fact helps you stay focused on the show before the two of you part ways a few hours later.

He’s your roommate. Nothing’s going to happen.

~

“Pretty sure this is the kinda injury you go to the hospital for, Bradshaw. Not your very unqualified roommate and a first aid kit” You grimace.

Bradley was currently sitting on the toilet seat of your shared bathroom; after what you can imagine was another interesting night at the hard deck, in his typical white tank and Hawaiian button-down combo while you stood in between his jean clad legs, attempting to control the bleeding above his eyebrow.

“I’m serious you might need stitches,” you grunt, grabbing some more gauze and pushing it against the laceration.

Bradley snorts, “I wouldn’t say you’re completely unqualified if you’re gonna stand there and say I need stitches.”

You roll your eyes at the statement and resist the urge to smack him, “Anyone with half a brain can deduce that you need stitches, doesn’t take someone with a degree to know that.”

“So, you’re saying you’re perfect for the job, since you don’t need a degree? That’s perfect, thanks sweetheart,” comes the reply of a grinning Bradley.

A huff escapes past your lips as you mutter out, “You’re impossible”.

Your eyes examine the items from the first-aid kit that are currently scattered across the countertop, landing on a small box that says, “butterfly wound closures”. You light up at your luck before ordering Bradley to keep pressure on the gauze you’ve been holding as you move to get the much-needed bandages.

Once you’ve grabbed two or three bandages from the box, you push Bradley’s hand off the gauze and slowly peel it back to check on the bleeding. Luckily, it’s stopped now, and you can focus on closing the wound.

Grabbing a square packet with the words, “alcohol pad” on it, you rip open the packaging and take out the small piece of moist fabric, before sucking in a breath. Just knowing how much this could burn against Bradley’s wound has you wincing and hesitating to clean the area around it. “This might sting a little if I get to close, so try to stay still” you whisper, trying to keep your voice steady as you start wiping around the wound. “How’d this happen anyway?” you question, attempting to distract him from any pain he might be feeling.

Bradley watches your face as you begin to wipe away at the dried blood above his eyebrow, nose scrunched, eyebrows pinched, and eyes focused on his wound. It’s endearing, how seriously you’re taking this.

“Some guy kept bothering Phoenix, she can usually handle guys like that on her own, but this one just wouldn’t take no for an answer. I stepped in to help escort him out of the hard deck with Hangman when the guy swung on me. It’s not a big deal.” He sighed.

You forced out a chuckle at his response, “I wouldn’t say that. Not when you’re coming home with blood rushing down your face”.

Bradley clocked the skip in his heart at the word “home” coming from your lips.

Ignoring that thought he rasped out, “Yeah well, better me than Phoenix. Plus, he definitely looks worse than me, I can guarantee you that, sweetheart.”

And just when you were about to retort back, you made the mistake of brushing the alcohol pad too close to his open wound.

Bradley’s eyes instantly force themselves shut, reaching out to grip your legs as he inhales sharply.

“Shit, shit, shit, I’m sorry Bradley” you apologize, moving your hands to hold his head in place. And before you even register what you’re doing you’re blowing air on his wound, applying the same knowledge you have with the reaction between small cuts and hand sanitizer to this scenario.

Bradley slowly let out the breath he’d been holding, muttering out an, “It’s fine sweets,” allowing his body to relax again.

Discarding the alcohol wipe, you quickly grab the bandages you set out, unwrapping them at a swift pace before moving to place them one by one over Bradley’s cut. Gingerly, you smooth your thumb over the last bandage, securing it in place on Bradley’s sun-kissed skin.

“Okay” you let out a breath, “You’re all set to be a hero again” you smile softly. “Don’t get into the habit of getting into fights with drunk men.” You warned, moving your right hand to squeeze his shoulder.

Bradley’s eyes flutter open meeting your soft gaze, and he can’t help but to let one side of his mouth quirk up into a smirk, “I make no promises sweetheart.”

Rolling your eyes at his confession you take a step back from him, forcing his hands to drop from your thighs, “You think you can manage putting everything back in the first-aid kit, show off? Or do you need my help with that too?” you smirk.

Bradley scoffs, pushing himself off the toilet to tower above you, “I got it,” he jests, light blue Hawaiian shirt swaying at the speed he moved from the toilet.

With the smirk still playing on your lips you back out of the bathroom, rounding the corner completely before calling out to him, “good to know you’re not completely helpless, Bradshaw!”

~

It’s been almost a year since you and Bradley started living together and somehow, he’s managed to supply endless excuses as to why dagger squad wasn’t able to meet his roommate. No one was more frustrated about the lack of an introduction than Phoenix, as Bradley’s closest friend she was a little pissed and mildly offended at the realization.

So, after some choice words between Phoenix and Bradley and the occasional nagging from Hangman, Bradley folded and told the duo that he’d talk to you about inviting them over for dinner.

Dragging his feet, Bradley opened the door to your shared apartment, taking in the smell of the lavender essential oil you had diffusing in the entryway.

Bradley faintly remembers you educating him on the effectiveness of essential oils when it comes to mental and physical health, and how lavender was best for promoting sleep and relaxation. Something you learned from your “stress management” class in college. It’s funny how that knowledge has him instantly relaxing once he’s stepped into the apartment; or maybe it was just knowing you occupied the same space as him.

“Honey I’m home!” Bradley calls out, tone light and playful.

He rounds the corner to see you propped up on the couch, book in your lap as you glance up at his loud and flashy entrance.

Quirking a brow at the flight suit currently tied around his waist, you watch him move one arm above his head to lean against the doorway, black fitted tee straining as he makes himself comfortable. You shoot him a playful smile, “Have a good day, sweetheart?”

Bradley lets a smirk grace his lips as he watches you, “I’ve had better.”

Rolling your eyes, you turn your attention downwards towards the book in your lap, “Well there’s always tomorrow” you reasoned.

Bradley allows himself to take in your appearance, tongue poking out to wet his lips as he watches a strand of hair fall in your face. He decides then and there that the matching green sports bra and spandex shorts set is his new favorite outfit that you own and there’s definitely gotta be some rule about inappropriate thoughts about your roommate that he’s ninety-nine percent sure he’s breaking.

Breaking his gaze from you he moves to the kitchen, focusing on fixing himself a glass of water when he remembers Phoenix’s words from earlier.

Meandering around the kitchen for a few more seconds he decides to just throw it out there.

“Hey sweetheart, are you okay with a few members from my squad coming by the apartment?”

Hearing his voice echoing through the kitchen into the living room, you allow his words to sit for a second, letting them mull over in your head until you decide to answer him with a, “why not? The more the merrier,” and glance back down to continue reading the murder mystery you’d been attempting to finish for the past few days.

Letting out a breath he didn’t know he was holding; Bradley smiles softly at your focused expression before grabbing his phone and shooting a group text to Phoenix and Hangman to let them know they could swing by later this week.

Only putting his phone down when he got a thumbs up from Hangman, and an enthused text from Nat telling him to send the details when he can, allowing himself to refocus back onto the girl currently sat on the gray couch, with an impressive number of throw pillows surrounding her, and a book he’s never heard of before in her hands.

Smiling quietly to himself, he runs a hand through his curls and decides to head to the bathroom to shower, already hearing you in his mind telling him how you don’t want the smell of jet fuel on the couch.

Once he’s finished, he throws on an old Navy tee and gray sweatpants, heading back into the living room to try and persuade you to put down your book and watch a few episodes of “The Witcher” with him instead.

Maneuvering himself around the coffee table and onto the couch, he quickly grabs your legs and props them onto his lap and shoots you a wide smile.

Peering over the top of your book you fix your gaze on his honey-brown irises and quirk an eyebrow at his disruptive actions.

Bradley nods his head to the tv in a silent question, and you hide the growing smile on your face behind the book you’ve had your nose in for the better part of the last few hours. “Bradshaw, can’t you see I’m reading?” you challenged, quirking an eyebrow up at the man sitting in front of you, puppy-dog eyes on full display.

He nods, “I see that, and I raise you with a much more interesting proposition.”

Lowering your book just a tad, you tilt your head to the side and scoff, “Oh really, and what might that be?”

Bradley bites his bottom lip before shooting you a dazzling smile, “You, me, and at least three episodes of ‘The Witcher’, accompanied by pizza and wings, if you’re into that kinda thing?”

You hum at his idea and look up in thought, biting the bottom of your own lip in the process, “I don’t know Bradshaw, this book is really starting to get good, and I’ve been wanting to finish it for like, a week now” you exaggerate.

He gives you ten seconds, and then he’s reaching across the couch to swipe the book from your hands tossing it behind him, earning a surprised shriek from you.

“What book?” he smiles again, beaming from ear to ear.

Not able to contain your own smile, you let out a soft laugh, “Go order the pizza, show off.”

Bradley stands, sending you a mock salute as he makes his way to his phone.

“Oh! And I want a Hawaiian pizza Bradshaw!” you call out.

Bradley scrunches his face in disgust at the thought of pineapple on pizza, turning back to you phone now up to his ear as he waits for the line to connect, “Still can’t believe you like pineapple on pizza, it’s a crime.”

“It’s really not!”

Pushing yourself up onto the arm of the couch, you bring your knees to sit underneath you, using your hands for emphasis as you argue the point of how perfect the sweetness of the pineapple compliments the saltiness of the pizza, and all Bradley can do is roll his eyes and smile at how enthusiastic you are. And despite him not agreeing with you, he orders the pizza for you anyway. Moving back to his spot on the couch once he’s placed the order and grabs ahold of your left leg, massaging it as you continue to rant about the different universally accepted sweet and salty combinations.

Once the pizza has been delivered, the two of you spread the small feast across the coffee table, as you start the second season of “The Witcher”.

Every now and then Bradley will make a small comment that makes you laugh, distracting you long enough that you’d have to rewind the show every few minutes to make sure you caught everything. And Bradley would just smile in return, taking pleasure in knowing that he’s the one making you laugh.

Once the pair of you have gotten through the third episode, you exit out of the Netflix app and turn the tv off, and before you can make a move from the couch, Bradley brings up the topic of his friends again and you tell him Friday at six should be good for you.

Sending him a small smile you slide your legs out of his grip and stand from the couch, bringing the leftover pizza with you and placing it in the fridge, Bradley close behind you with the wings. Once everything is put away, the two of you exchange “goodnights” and part ways to your separate rooms, lingering looks, and fond smiles left in the shadows of the dark.

Two Days Later

Friday comes quickly, work having been overwhelming and taking up most of your limited time. The time you normally are reading or hanging out with Bradley is almost nonexistent.

Once you’ve made it back to the apartment you make a beeline for the bathroom to wash off the day. Letting yourself linger under the hot water long after you completed your routine, forcing yourself to turn the water off, step out of the shower, and dry off.

Remembering that Bradley invited his friends to come by tonight, you curse under your breath, wrapping the towel around your body and swinging the bathroom door open, stepping out into the hallway, only to crash into a hard chest.

“Shit” you mumble, scrambling backwards towards the bathroom.

Looking up you make eye contact with Bradley, who’s sporting his black tee and flight suit attire from his day working at the naval base. Gulping you tighten the towel around your body, squeaking out a “sorry” as you try to look past his eyes towards your bedroom door.

Bradley ignores the urge to look down past your eyes, willing himself to think of anything other than your naked body, and shuffles back a few steps to let you past.

You take that as your opportunity to scurry to your room in an attempt at avoiding any more awkward moments for the night. Deciding to throw your thoughts into what outfit you’re going to wear instead of the recent interaction between you and Bradley. Coming up with jean shorts, a white t-shirt, and white socks, you give yourself a onceover in your floor-length mirror and nod at your reflection, leaving the safe space of your room to wander around the kitchen.

Since you and Bradley had ordered pizza earlier on this week, you take it upon yourself to order takeout from the local Chinese restaurant. Not having been able to go out and grab groceries to prepare for tonight’s dinner, ordering Chinese seemed better than ordering pizza for a second time.

The bathroom door opening signals to you that Bradley’s finished showering, almost like a warning of his inevitable presence.

Busying yourself with tidying up the living room, you don’t notice him walk out of the hallway, too focused on how to lay your grandma’s knitted throw blanket over the couch.

Bradley lets out a breath, closing his eyes and wills himself to forget about your moment in the hallway, instead choosing to put his shoes in a more orderly fashion by the front door, and switching the diffuser on as he passes it, the smell of lavender quickly flooding his senses and bringing him back to thoughts that all involve you in nothing but a towel.

Shaking his head, he forces the image of your wide eyes, wet hair, and glowing skin from his mind and moves back to the kitchen to unload the dishwasher.

You finally take notice of him and send him a shy smile. He sends you one back and breaks the silence by asking about your day at work.

Thankful for the distraction, the awkward tension dissipates and the two of you fall into easy conversation until three sharp knocks come from the door.

Looking to Bradley he sends a reassuring smile your way before going to answer the door. The sound of two voices arguing back and forth hit your ears and you instantly smile and let out a small laugh at the loud, “Bagman I swear, if you don’t shut your mouth, I’m going to sew it shut with the next toothpick I can find.”

Composing yourself quickly, you tuck a stray hair behind your ear while you sit at the kitchen island, only standing when a woman with shoulder-length black hair and chocolate brown eyes, moves around the corner.

Once Phoenix makes eye contact with you, she’s instantly grinning and coming closer to give you a polite hug, introducing herself with her callsign and then her name, telling you to call her by whichever, and settles in on the barstool next to yours.

A blond with perfectly styled hair and a smug smirk follows shortly after Phoenix and quickly scans you from head to toe, smirk deepening (if that’s even possible), Bradley right behind him with a sheepish smile on his face as he looks towards you.

“Well, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes” the blond drawls, he’s a little short compared to Bradley and you take note of his southern drawl, Texan maybe?

Eyes flitting from Bradley back to the blond, you let a sarcastic smile settle on your lips and hum, leaning your arm onto the counter, hand forming a fist as you rest your chin, batting your eyelashes at him, “Bagman, isn’t it?”

Nat snuffs out a laugh, hiding her smile behind her hand as she looks at you.

“Hangman, actually.”

“That’s not what I heard,” you retort back, smile staying stationary on your lips, challenging him.

“Oh, I like you,” Nat grins. “I like her” she states, turning to give Bradley a pointed look.

Hangman breaks the stare down choosing to look towards Bradley instead, “I like her too.”

Rolling your eyes at the statement you also turn to Bradley, tongue coming out to swipe across your bottom lip as you point a finger towards Hangman, “I can learn to tolerate him.”

Bradley lets out a chuckle moving to grab a set of beers from the fridge huffing out an, “We all do that, Sweets” the room erupting into laughter at the expense of Jake “Hangman” Seresin.

Somehow over the course of the night you and Nat had made your way over to the couch, her sipping on a Heineken and you on a coke, leaving the boys to their own devices in the kitchen.

“So, how long did you say you’ve been roommates again?” Hangman questioned, nodding over to you, toying with the perspiration sweating off his beer bottle.

Bradley brings his beer up to his lips slowly, “About a year now, were good friends” taking a sip after he answers.

Jake hums, “And how long have you been lying to yourself about that second part?”

Bradley whips his head towards Jake, eyebrows pinching at his suggestion, “What?”

Huffing Jake turns his attention from the couch where both you and Natasha have started gossiping about some picture on your phone, back to Bradley, “Bradshaw, when’s the last time you went on a date with a girl, or even hooked up with one?”

Jake is met with silence from the naval aviator, and takes a sip from his beer, “That’s my point. You like her man.”

Bradley leans on the countertop, eyes focusing on the way your eyes light up at something Phoenix says, your giggles filling the space of your shared apartment and making him suppress a fond smile. “I have no idea what you’re talking about, we’re just roommates, Bagman.”

Jake watches Bradley watching you, a knowing smile breaking his smug façade, then he moves to sip at his beer, glancing back over to you and Nat, “Whatever you say Bradshaw.”

~

From the way the wind and rain were whipping against the windows of your apartment, you’d think you were dealing with a stage three hurricane, but according to the weatherman it was just a bad storm. Maybe someone should double check his certification.

Every few minutes thunder would rumble, ricocheting off your apartment complex, shaking the building, and sending you into another gathering frenzy. Moving around the apartment in a flurry, you grab the collection of candles you’ve been hoarding and any lighters you can find.

In your rush, you don’t hear Bradley enter the apartment, too busy with collecting all of the necessary items.

Bradley smiles as you pass by him, oversized tee flowing behind you, socks making you skid on the hardwood floors of your apartment as you spread the abundance of candles throughout the living space.

“What are you doing?”

A shriek escapes your lips, narrowly avoiding dropping three candles as you recompose yourself, straightening your back you let out an exasperated breath. Placing the remaining candles down onto the side table you huff, “What does it look like I’m doing?” You turn to face Bradley, who looks like he’s soaked from head to toe; he must’ve left his flight suit at the base today since he’s sporting just a black tee and his workout shorts, “I’m preparing for our inevitable demise.” You exaggerate.

Bradley chuckles at your dramatic opinion of the weather, “I don’t think fifty candles are gonna help us sweetheart.”

You give him a reprimanding look, groaning as you say, “No but they’ll help with our vision whenever the power goes out. And some of us, are afraid of the dark.”

Bradley’s smile softens at your admission and angles himself toward the foyer table, reaching into one of the drawers and pulling out the flashlight you’d been looking for. Turning to you and giving it a little wave in an effort to make you feel better.

You smile at his thoughtfulness, “I’ve been looking for that everywhere.”

Giving the flashlight a light toss, Bradley chuckles, “And looking in all the wrong spots apparently.”

Another round of thunder rattles the apartment, making you jump, eyes flashing with fear for a moment. Bradley raises his eyebrows at your reaction and sets the flashlight on the kitchen island.

“You okay?”

You turn to him, giving a small nod, “Yeah, I’m fine. Storms don’t normally bother me but this one just feels like it’s closer to a hurricane than a regular storm.”

Bradley nods at your statement, “You gonna be okay if I take a quick shower?”

Throwing your hand up nonchalantly, you wave him off, “I’ll be fine, probably gonna light a few candles and start a new book.”

His eyes wander the expansion of your face, looking for any cracks in your calm and collected façade you’re putting up. Not finding any, he rationalizes that he’ll only be gone for ten minutes tops, and can coax you into cozying up on the couch to watch another episode of “The Witcher” once he’s finished.

Shooting a reassuring smile your way he side steps out of your way to head to the shower, “I’ll be out shortly sweetheart!”

Shaking your head, you force yourself to move again throughout the apartment, huffing as you grab a case of water and set it on the island.

Standing at the entryway to your home you play with a strand of hair nervously, studying the progress you’ve made throughout the space, giving a decisive nod of approval, before heading off to your room to pick a book and grab a few extra blankets to set on the couch.

The wind has picked up even more now, making the patter of rain on the window hit with a force you thought for sure resembled hail. Shivering at the thought, you clutch your collection of blankets closer to your body and make your way back out to the living room, throwing yourself down on the couch and cuddling into your favorite throw pillow, snuggling under the blankets.

Another loud boom of thunder rattles your building, making you let out a soft whimper in response, snuggling further into the couch for comfort. In an effort to calm yourself down you reach across the cushions to grab the pink book peeking out from the collection of blankets, totally abandoned in your haste to hide from the thunder.

You thumb through the first few pages until you see the intricate curvature of the words “Chapter One” typed at the top of the page and immediately immerse yourself into another world of fiction. And within five minutes, you’ve completely forgotten about the raging storm outside, the sharp beating of the rain on the window turning into a dull thumping as your eyes scan the pages in front of you.

Bradley curses to himself at the amount of time he’s spent in the shower, quickly stepping out and drying himself off, throwing on a white tee and his favorite gray sweatpants. Hanging his towel back on his hook, he swiftly opens the door and takes long strides to the living room, reaching his hand around the hallway entrance and poking his head out to see where you’ve scurried off to.

Momentarily panicking when he doesn’t pinpoint your exact location, until his eyes zone in on your blanketed figure on the couch. A grin splits his lips, and he bites the bottom one to contain his chuckle, you’re reading that new book you were talking about, but the way you’ve huddled into the blankets reminds him of the alien from E.T. all wrapped up with only your head being visible.

Sidling up to the frame of the hallway he folds his arms over his chest, shaking his head as he calls out your name. Actually, letting out a chuckle this time when you don’t acknowledge him.

“You good over there, sweetheart?” he tries again.

This time you do look up, and his heart clenches at the sight of your wide eyes, “Shit! I’m sorry Bradley, how long have you been trying to get my attention?”

“Not long sweets, don’t worry about it.” He juts his chin towards the tv, “What do you think about a few episodes of ‘The Witcher’?”

Glancing down at your book you think about it for a second, it was starting to get interesting but you could never say no to Bradley or “Geralt of Rivia”. So you smile and push the blanket off of your head, “You know,” you clicked your tongue, “I’m starting to think you like this show way more than I do.”

Bradley scoffs, “Definitely not, I’m only suggesting it because there’s nothing else worthy of watching on that godforsaken streaming service.”

“Oh please,” you roll your eyes, “just admit it Bradshaw.”

And just as Bradley opens his mouth to give you some smart retort back, a loud crack echoes throughout the room, and the power flickers off. You suppress a scream and instead resort to a quiet whimper.

“Shit sweetheart, are you okay?” Bradley calls.

You bite down on your lower lip and close your eyes to avoid looking into the void of darkness that’s encompassed your apartment, “Not really,” you breathe out.

Bradley goes quiet for a second, trying to make the moment lighthearted in an attempt to make you feel better, “All those candles and you didn’t light any of them huh?”

An offended scoff that closely resembles a whine leaves your lips, “Seriously Bradley.”

“Hey, I’m just pointing out the obvious, sweets” Bradley teases.

“At least I thought about this happening and got us prepared,” you sputter out. “Some of us were too busy washing their mustache to care” you sneer, eyes still screwed tightly shut.

Bradley pinches his eyebrows, “Hey now, no hating on the stache.”

“Bradley I can’t see anything and it’s really loud so I’m sorry, but the feelings of your mustache are not on my list of priorities right now” You huff.

“Okay well then how about we try to find the lighter so we can actually see in here?”

“Fantastic idea Bradshaw, best one you’ve had all night,” your tone exaggerated, moving your hands to aid in pushing yourself up from the couch.

Letting out a puff of air, Bradley ignores your comment and starts using his hand to navigate through the living room, hoping he’s getting close to the couch, bumping his knee into what he thinks is the side table, letting out a low groan.

“You okay over there, showoff?” you call out, taking a few tentative steps forward.

“Yeah,” he grunts, “I’m fine.”

You nod your head in understanding and mumble out a quiet, “Okay, good.”

Bradley moves forward again, maneuvering around what he thinks is the coffee table. He can hear your shaky breaths so he’s almost a hundred percent sure he’s a few steps away from the couch.

Growing a little bolder you take two steps forward, which proves fatal as you end up tripping over what felt like a shoe, forcing you to stumble forward in an attempt to catch your footing, throwing your hands out to avoid crashing into anything, only for them to land on Bradley’s warm and hard chest.

Not quite balanced yet, you stumble forward a bit more, Bradley grabbing your wrist in hopes to help steady you, pulling you closer to him in the process.

You haven’t been able to see since the power went out, but having him this close allows you to see the outline of his face and the sparkle of his eyes, your breath hitches in your throat at your proximity and it all becomes overwhelmingly intimate.

Looking away from his profile into the darkness, you momentarily forget about the fear of the storm and instead are distracted by the very muscular, very attractive man; that is your roommate, currently holding you.

“You okay there, sweetheart?” Bradley whispers.

Closing your eyes, you turn your head and force a shaky breath out from your lips, “Yeah, just tripped over a shoe or something.”

“That’s not what I’m talking about.” He mumbles, voice a little raspier than normal.

 Shit.

Your eyes shoot open, your head tilting back to face him, “If you’re referring to the fact that it’s darker than a black hole in here right now, then no, I’m not okay, I would really appreciate at least one of those candles being lit right about now.”

Another roll of thunder crashes into your living room, echoing along the walls and through your chest, making you press further into Bradley’s firm hold.

Closing your eyes again you huff, “I’m sorry.”

Bradley moves the hand that doesn’t have a grip on your wrist around your back, tugging you into his warm embrace, “You have nothing to be sorry for sweetheart,” he reassures, resting his chin on top of your head as he speaks.

You sigh, allowing yourself just for a moment, to enjoy how close he is right now. Just roommates you remind yourself.

“I swear I’m not usually this bad with them,” you mumble against his chest, referring to the raging storm outside.

Bradley’s chuckle rumbles through his chest, nodding his head in understanding, “Where do you think that lighter is right about now?”

“I have no idea, maybe on the island? That’s where I put the majority of stuff.” You mumble, placing your hands flat against him to aid in inching yourself away from his chest.

Bradley hums, keeping a firm grip on your wrist as he steps back slowly towards the kitchen, pulling you with him. “Okay,” he nods, “Lets focus on getting the flashlight and then the lighter. That sound okay with you?”

Feeling the way his thumb is rubbing small circles into your skin, you whisper out a “Yeah,” gulping down your nerves that are so frazzled you’re not sure if it’s from the storm, or from how tender he’s being.

Taking a few more short steps; with Bradley leading the way, the two of you eventually make it to the kitchen island. Bradley letting your hand go in favor of roaming his over the countertop, blindly searching for the flashlight while you focus on finding the lighter. After what seems like hours, Bradley announces his accomplishment and flicks the button on the metal piece of the flashlight, a beam of light hitting your pupils making you flinch and close your eyes. Bradley cursed under his breath in apology, moving the light down towards the countertop in search of the lighter, allowing you to reopen your eyes and get accustomed to the new source of light.

Eyes scanning over your pile of necessities, you spot the lighter peeking out from behind one of the candles.

“Found it,” you sigh in relief.

Bradley’s eyes pan over to you from where he’s standing, watching as you reach past an emerald, green candle that has a picture of the woods wrapped around it; the words “sandalwood” in some typewriter font scribbled at the top, and pull the lighter out of the dark and into the beam of light coming from the flashlight.

Meeting Bradley’s eyes you shoot him a soft smile, giving the lighter a little wave, “Lets light these candles.”

A soft chuckle rumbles through Bradley’s chest while he shakes his head in amusement, “Leave it to you to make a ‘The Boys’ reference.”

You smile, turning away from him as you grab the same emerald, green candle that he was just looking at, clicking the lighter on and pushing it against the wick, “It’s not my fault okay, there’s some great one-liners in there. I just so happen to be capable of altering it to fit our scenario.”

The sky rumbles shortly after your statement and has you kicking into gear, setting the newly lit candle back down onto the island and moving swiftly throughout the apartment, lighting as many candles as you can to brighten up the room, but also not enough to be a fire hazard.

Lighting the last cream-colored candle by the couch, you straighten up and turn towards the room to look at your handiwork, Bradley standing next to you doing the same as he clicks the flashlight off. A soft yellow glow has settled in different areas of the living room and kitchen, the areas surrounding it darker, the further away you get from the candles. “I think that’s good enough.” You murmur, arms crossing over themselves while you scan the space.

Bradley hums in approval, moving an arm around your shoulder and tugging you closer to him.

“What do you wanna do now sweetheart?” Bradley’s voice is soft as he asks his question, allowing his thumb to rub small circles onto your deltoid. It’s comforting.

Allowing your guard to slip, you lean further into his body, turning your head up to look at him, whispering, “Can you sit with me on the couch while I read?” Eyes flickering towards the darkness of your room before returning to his gaze, “I just don’t want to be by myself right now.” You mumble.

And for what feels like the millionth time in the past year, Bradley’s heart skips at your confession, his mouth wanting to grin at just how cute you are and pull you into his chest. Instead, however, he settles for a soft smile and a, “Anything for you sweetheart.”

Gripping your shoulder tighter, he pulls you back towards the comfort of the couch making himself comfortable as he settles into the cushions, allowing you to leave his embrace to grab your book. But once you try to sit back at the opposite end of the couch, Bradley immediately grips your wrist and tugs you back to him.

“You’re gonna end up here anyway, sweetheart, just sit with me.” He rasps out, his warm breath hitting your ear, making you shiver.

Not trusting your words, you hum in response, letting him guide you back into his chest, propping your knees up to rest your book on them as you open it, conveniently landing on the page you had last read.

Somewhere in your brain a little voice was screaming at you that this isn’t what normal roommates do, getting a little louder once Bradley hooked his left arm around your waist, but an even louder voice was telling you just to enjoy it while you could. And in the end, what did it matter anyway? You were going to read and the two of you would part ways once the power came back on to your respective beds and everything would go back to normal. So, what’s the harm in lying here with him now?

The thunder was still rolling outside along with the sharp gusts of wind, but now that you were reading in Bradley’s arms you honestly couldn’t hear it anymore. And what felt like a few short minutes, turned into three hours, your eyes growing heavy, almost dropping the book on your face once you started to nod off.

Becoming mildly alert, you shift your body upwards to set your book on the coffee table, turning to tell Bradley you were going to bed, only to see him peacefully sleeping with his head tilted back onto the throw pillow, right arm flexed behind to support his head as he slept.

Smiling softly to yourself you shake your head and move to get up to go sleep in your bed, only to be anchored down by Bradley’s arm.

Frowning, you grab his hand with yours and begin to try and peel it away from you, Bradley’s grip only growing tighter and successfully pulling you back against him, your hand promptly landing on his chest to avoid faceplanting into it.

Just when you were about to make a second attempt Bradley’s raspy voice rings loud in your ears, “Stop trying to leave me.” He grumbles. Eyes still closed he brings his second arm around your back and pulls you tight against his chest, “Just stay.”

Biting your bottom lip at his drowsy statement, you try to pull your body away from him again, his arms only squeezing tighter around you. “Bradshaw, I need to go to bed,” you huff. Bradley pushes his body further down the couch, keeping you in place as he makes himself comfortable, “Sleep here” he mumbles.

Jesus Christ he’s gonna put you in an early grave.

You allow your eyes to examine his face, the way that his eyelashes touch the tops of his cheeks, sweeping over the tiny freckles littering his face, and stopping at the curve of his lips. Goddamnit. Shaking your head, you squeeze your eyes shut, you can’t do this.

“Bradley��� you whisper, voice shaky as you break your gaze from his face and focus on the flickering candlelight, “I really can’t sleep here.”

This pulls him from his drowsy state almost instantaneously and has him fluttering his eyes open, blinking a few times to bring his gaze into focus.

His thumb has a mind of its own it seems, since you feel it push under the fabric of your t-shirt and rub your skin in small circular motions, biting your bottom lip to refrain from doing anything rash, a small “Bradley,” slips past your lips, tone warning.

He doesn’t say anything.

Instead, he brings his other hand up to your face and forces your gaze back to him. It’s quiet as the two of you stare at each other, blood rushing in your ears over the silence that’s only broken by the distant roar of thunder.

 Sighing, you start to move your body backwards to put some distance between the two of you, “Bradley, I need to go to- “, your sentence is cut off by Bradley, who’s pulled you down and collided his lips with your own. Your eyes fluttering closed at the sensation of his lips on yours, a moment passing before you understand what’s happening and push your lips against his.

The hand that Bradley has resting against your cheek pulls you further against him, fingers curling around the nape of your neck to keep you close, as you melt into the kiss, his lips caressing yours, mustache tickling your upper lip as they slot together over and over again, until you pull away to catch your breath.

Your eyes flutter open, reconnecting with Bradley’s. His honey-brown eyes have a certain glow behind them as he takes you in, leaning forward to recapture your lips with his own, “Stay.”

Closing your eyes again, you push your lips against his, letting them linger there for a moment before you lean back, and whisper out a breathy, “Okay.”

A soft, adoring smile pulls at Bradley’s lips, giving his head a short nod as he leans the two of you back, settling himself into the couch cushions while you pull your grandma’s knitted blanket off the back of the couch and over the two of you. Nuzzling yourself into his neck, placing a few chaste kisses along the scars that have made homage there. Slipping your hand under his white t-shirt while you mutter, “Just so you know,” another kiss, “I will be milking the fuck out of this.”

Bradley lets out a chuckle, kissing the top of your head briefly before closing his eyes, “Wouldn’t have it any other way, sweetheart.”

Two Weeks Later

Nat and Jake had come over again for another dinner night. This time, you chose to make dinner, a simple “lasagna roll-up” recipe you found on pinterest that has never failed you when it came to impressing guests.

Bradley and Jake were sitting at the kitchen island, mulling over the salad Bradley had just finished tossing while Jake gave him “pointers”, occasionally stealing glances at the two women sitting on the couch, deep in gossip.

Every now and then you’d look over and send Bradley a soft smile, until Natasha grabbed your attention with another story of the shenanigans that had taken place earlier on base. Jake watching the love-sick expression on Bradley’s face, and stewing in the knowledge that Bradley Bradshaw had it bad for you; just like Jake had told him he was several weeks ago.

“Took you long enough Bradshaw,” Jake poked, bringing the beer he’d been holding up to his lips and taking a sip, smirk prominent on his face.

Bradley spared Jake a glance before returning his attention back to you, clicking his tongue, “When are you gonna tell Phoenix how you feel, Seresin?”

Jake’s eyes flicked to Nat’s figure currently relaxing on the gray couch, not giving anything away, keeping his expression in his traditional cocky smirk, “I have no idea what you’re talking about Rooster.” Taking another sip of his beer, Jake moves his body off the stool and towards the living room, sitting himself down ungracefully next to Nat, her throwing an irritated look at him.

Rooster suppresses a chuckle at his teammates and shakes his head before moving himself to sit next to you, easing his arm around your shoulder, you relaxing into his embrace immediately.

Jake leans onto the arm of couch, permanent smirk etched onto his lips, “Okay I gotta know. What got you hooked on our very own ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw?”

Nat smacks Jake’s wrist and immediately reprimands him with an annoyed “and this is why we only tolerate you, Bagman” while you sit there, a blushing mess, as Bradley rubbed small circles into your shoulder.

You mull it over in your head for a second while Nat continues to reprimand Jake before you speak up, “Honestly?”

Everyone goes quiet at your consideration of Jake’s question, apart from Jake who lets his famous smirk return to his face, “I’d love to hear the honest answer.”

You look up at the ceiling briefly, cheeks flushing as you mumble, “Definitely the mustache.”

The room immediately erupts into laughter, Jake and Nat rushing out questions at a million miles a second, while you cover your face in embarrassment.

 Bradley just chuckles to himself and pulls your face into his side, kissing the top of your head, emphasizing the rub of his mustache against your forehead, making you burrow further into his side.

“Just Roommates my ass!”

[coeurify]

THE PERFECT PAIR;

ELLIE WILLIAMS

·˚ ༘ * “if I told you, you'd know how to go break my heart in two."

pairing: bff!ellie williams x fem!reader . college au. summary: you and your childhood best friend ellie have always done everything together, but things & feelings are starting to change. part 1 of _. slightly based on. and the song the perfect pair by beabadoobee. part 2 here warnings: whole series: lotsss of pining, angst, fluff etc. references to drinking, smoking etc. smut in future. just lots of exposition & fluff in this one. wc 4.3k

There was something you missed about childhood. A bottomless pit of nostalgia rises in your throat whenever the air smelt a little fresh, whenever you hear the songs of the morning birds. Nothing was quite the same as that anymore, the sky was never as blue as it had been through your twelve-year-old eyes, and the flowers never smelt as sweet as they did outside your childhood home during the summer. You often were told you cling too tightly to it, onto the feeling that everyone loses when they grow past the age of sleepovers and elementary homework. But how couldn’t you?

You were sure no year could compete with those ones, especially sixth grade, and you claimed this every chance you got. Even now, head hung out the passenger seat window of your best friend’s car, wind pressing against your face gently as you pulled into the parking lot of your university dormitories.

“It smells like sixth grade,” you hum, eyes pressing closed as you try to picture the colors you swore only were bright in childhood. “What does that even fucking mean? B.O. and bath and body works perfume?” a voice came beside you, a chuckle following the statement. Your eyes shoot open, following the messy bun that shook as your friend laughed gently.

“Ellie,” you frown, “It smells sweet, you know? Reminds me of the air when we were kids.”

“Everything reminds you of middle school. Swear to god you're the only one who misses that place,” Ellie muttered, doing a pretty shit job of backing into a parking space near the dorm building. You would comment on it later, maybe take a picture to tease her with. For now, you focused on her words, a pout brushing your lips. “It was a good year! I miss it!”

“Rose-colored glasses,” El makes a dismissive motion with her hand, taking in your frown.

“I think you just say that 'cause it's when you met me,” your friend continues, looking very smug at the observation she constantly taunted you with.

Was it a little true? Maybe.

It had been the year you met when Ellie was still a lanky and loud-mouthed kid, unsure of how to act or dress. You had been no better, sitting alone at lunch tables, hiding behind your much too big flannel that was not at all the style of the other girls. When Ellie sat by you, a year older and wearing something just as awkward as you, a Savage Starlight shirt, looking just as out of place, well, it was love at first sight.

Love in a friendship way, of course, but love nonetheless. Those freckles that her face hadn’t quite grown into yet had become your favorite sight in middle school, green eyes that you searched for every time you bounced into the building.

A string had been tied between your two pinkies, and it never had once frayed. Not through the rest of middle school, not when Ellie tried soccer that year she left for high school and forgot to talk to you for a whole week— 13-year-old you was simply devastated— and not even when Ellie got her very first girlfriend in the tenth grade. She left soccer after the first month, her girlfriend broke up with her over text right before homecoming, and that thread led her right back to your pinky.

Of course, you were two teenage girls.. so you fought. She fought when you started skipping your Friday night movies to talk to a new friend when you were in the ninth grade. You fought when Ellie took a girl to prom in junior year and didn’t even tell you. The worst fight had been when she left for college, leaving you alone to face senior year in the small town of Jackson. Everything she did seemed to frustrate you that year, though you can now begrudgingly admit it was just because you missed her.

But all friends fight about things like that, right? In the end it was still the two of you. The nervous smiles of your middle school selves always found their way back to your faces, and always made you feel just as excited as you had been to meet. It was what led you to follow her to college. Now in your sophomore year and Ellie’s junior, not much has changed. You still had your Friday night movies— only now tucked into the small beds of your dorms.

So maybe Ellie was a little right. Perhaps she knew your mind a bit too well. Maybe you did love those years so much because they had been so filled with her. But you, of course, wouldn’t give her that satisfaction. “You're so full of yourself, Williams.”

Ellie flung the keyring around her fingers, shrugging again as she stepped out of her car. “Not full of myself, just right.”

The passenger side of her door creaked lightly when you pressed it, stuttering before you could really get it to push open . It was something that had started when you got too high once while visiting her after she started college, and you slammed it into a concrete wall. You refuse to acknowledge that's why her door sucks, but you both knew.

“Shut up,” you flip her off over the hood of the car, reaching below the seat up front to grab the bag stuffed full of clothes for the weekend drive. It was only the second week into the fall semester, but you and Ellie both found yourself craving a little time in the comfort of Jackson, hence the trip.

Ellie smiles in response, winking and grabbing her backpack. You start walking the path before she even locks the doors, hearing her trampling footsteps follow behind. “I was just joking,” the girl whined, eyes catching the side of your face as you looked straight ahead. You weren’t really mad, but you liked when Ellie apologized for her taunting. “You know, I think it's cute how… sentimental you are about that shit,” she knocks her shoulder into your own.

You feel your body tense lightly at the word cute, shrugging it off as you pull your favorite sweatshirt off your body, the early September air too thick for it. “Whatever,” you shake your head, nudging her back in a sign of acceptance.

“Gotta stop getting so worked up, peach.”

“Gotta stop calling me that,” you retort, eyes rolling at the nickname like you always did.

“I will when it stops being funny,” Ellie’s hand came to ruffle your hair, making your lips press together. You hated the peach story, and you hated when she messed up your hair even more.

“Swear one of these days I'm gonna bite you for doing that,” you puff, ID card slipping into the reader that opened the dorm door.

“I'm sure you’d bite me for a lot less,” she scoffs, thinking back to all of the times you had not so nicely bit at her for something like taking your food or roughhousing with you. She holds open the glass door for you to step inside the lobby. It's relatively quiet. A mid-Sunday afternoon meant most college students were tucked away in their rooms, probably studying or fighting a hangover. The AC of the common room welcomes you, painting your skin with goosebumps as you clutch your sweatshirt.

“Don't tempt me,” you joke, looking her up and down dramatically— like she was some meal. Ellie seems to shy away from your face, making a noise. “Shut up, biter.”

You pout at your friend, “You just don't get it.”

“I don't want to, dude.”

The response earns Ellie a slap at her arm, which she reacts too loudly at, watching as you flush and shush her. Ellie smiles and leads you to the elevator.

When you reach it, you pause momentarily, rocking on your heels.

“Maybe I should like— go get some food from the cafe or something,” you shrug, looking to avoid what was waiting in your dorm room. This was obvious to Ellie, who looked over at you with a slight sense of humor. She expected this reaction, just not as early as your tiptoes found the metal of the elevator door.

“Get in the elevator,” she shoo’s you inside, a hand against your back. “I swear she won't hurt you.”

The she that Ellie was referencing was your new roommate, Dina. She moved in late, meaning you had only seen her a few times before you left for the weekend. Most of that time had been spent sleeping, as you found yourself spending most free time in Ellie’s dorm to avoid her. It wasn’t that she didn't seem nice, because she did. You just weren’t the best with new people. It had taken you nearly a whole semester to get comfortable with your previous roommate.

“You don’t get it!” You pout, leaning against the cool surface of the wall. “You and Rose have been roommates since freshman year. I don’t know a thing about Dina. I mean fuck, maybe I should’ve stayed with Jade.”

Ellie quickly cut in at the mention of your old roommate, “Jade was a dick.”

Ellie's distaste for your former roommate was no secret, though you didn’t quite understand why she harbored such feelings. Sure, Jade was a little messy, and teased you sometimes. But she was always mostly kind to you, doing your makeup for parties.. inviting you to hang out. She even would hold your hand when you got too tipsy at events, pull you home to your dorm and shoo away everyone else, even El, to take care of you. But when Ellie told you she was bad news, to look for a new roommate— you didn’t question it much. She had been in Jade's year, after all, and probably knew better.

You spare a glance at her, watching how she looks away at the mention of Jade. It forced a swallow down your throat, suddenly feeling like you had just gripped a touchy subject by the neck and shoved it in her face. You couldn’t understand why it was so difficult to talk about, and you didn’t really want to. So instead, you sigh loudly when the elevator dings.

“What if she’s crazy? Like an axe murderer?” you begin to ramble, eyeing all the decorated doors that line the white hallway. Your door was only seven down from Ellie’s, you had counted, so you took in the numbers on each entry as you inched closer to your own. “If she was an axe murderer, wouldn’t she have already killed you?”

You groan loudly, finding comfort in picking at the seams of your bag’s strap. “You never know! Maybe it's a long game..”

Ellie’s hands find your shoulders, steering you from behind to be directly in front of the door with your and Dina’s name decorations on it. “You're fine, peach. Stop being a pussy.”

Your head flips back dramatically, landing on your best friend's shoulder. “If I die, it’s on you, ok?”

Ellie stiffens slightly, enough for you to notice, and enough for her to shove you off, but not enough to mention it. It never was. She mumbles a few ‘yea yea’s’ before waving you off and starting down the hallway to her own door, which your eyes follow right up until her hand finds the doorknob. She sends you one last look, nodding at you as another sign of encouragement. The staring session is long enough for you to swallow the forming lump in your throat and unlock your door, gently popping your head in.

The room is quiet and a bit warm— though you guess that's from the open window. At first, you think your roommate may not be here, but you find her soon enough. Dina is settled on her bed, earbuds tucked in her ears as she writes in some book, which you assume to be homework. The door clicking closed is enough to sound through the music humming in her ears, causing brown eyes to look up. Your stomach twists at the eye contact, nerves biting at your shaky hands. But Dina smiled like she had every other time you two interacted. A totally normal, non axe murderer smile.

“Hey! How was your trip?” she tucks the earbuds under her, turning the attention to you. You try your best to seem totally nonchalant, kicking your shoes off near your bed. Sitting over the plush comforter, a loud huff leaves your lips as you shrug. “Was ok, just a lot of driving.”

Ok. Small talk, you could do this. You could so do this. Mentally you pat your own back, thanking the stars above you had been blessed with a roommate who could carry a conversation. “Oh shit, that’s gotta be a long time in the car, huh? I think I’d die,” Dina shivered, “My weekend was spent cooped up, so I applaud you.”

“What’d you do?” you push, trying your very best to be social with the girl you would be living with for the following year. It only became easier to do when you imagined the look of approval from Ellie it would likely receive—a friendly sort, of course.

“Hm, just watched movies with my boyfriend. Studied, but personally I think it’s criminal how much work I already have to do,” Dina moves into a sitting position, beginning to rattle on about her classes. You listen, nodding along.

“It's two weeks into the semester, for fuck sake,” she finishes a few minutes later. It pulls an honest chuckle from you as you move your head in agreement. “Yea, I kinda shot myself in the leg choosing English major, all the essays,” you frown. “But god, my friend Ellie,” you can't help how easy it was to bring her up, “she’s got it bad. Physics major.”

Dina makes a sound through her teeth, shaking her head. “Tough,” her lips pull into a slight pout as she quickly switches back to the two of you. “Hey, at least we can suffer together..” the brunette grins, shrugging, “maybe we could have like study nights, throw on a shitty show and work on classes together. Fridays?”

The offer is sweet, making you feel fuzzy all over at the hint of a blossoming friendship. But the day suggestion had you frowning, a cold bath over your form. Fridays were for Ellie and you. “Me and Ellie do movie night on Friday..” you begin, a slight worry rising in your body that you may have ruined this building idea. Dina didn't seem to sweat it, smiling just as softly as before. “That’s fine, Lemme see your class schedule. We can plan a weekday.”

Dina stands, making her way to your side of the room and taking a seat on your bed without a second thought. It almost made you jealous how simply Dina had been able to talk to you, come into your space, and build plans like the two of you were not strangers being forced to live with each other. If Ellie were here, she would probably say someone like Dina was good for you. Someone who could bite into the world more harshly than yourself, someone who didn’t have to force the confidence. Ellie would probably really like Dina. The thought makes you smile, and a little less stiff when Dina presses against you to watch you open your phone. You swear you hear a giggle at the sight of your lock screen, but you push that thought away.

The two of you spend the next ten minutes with your heads tucked over the tiny screen of your schedule, finally landing on a night that would work for both of you, Wednesday night after your final classes. The topic quickly switched to creating a list of tv shows you could watch during these nights.

Before long, Dina had ended up lying on your bed, your teddy bear tucked in her arms as she stared at the ceiling. “Could I invite Ellie to this a few times? I'm sure she could use the study time..” You ask absentmindedly, fingers scrolling through a list of 2000’s sitcoms. Dina nods, “Sure, maybe I’ll invite my boyfriend sometimes too..” She flips onto her stomach, looking up at where you sit.

“What about Friends?” Dina hums, chin finding her palms.

“I’ll put it down, Ellie hates friends, though,” your nail scrapes across the phone screen, adding the title to the notes you had formed. “What about New Girl?”

Dina seems to like this idea, nodding quickly. “New Girl for sure..” she watches you, head tilting. “Is Ellie the one you kept disappearing for last week? You talk about her a lot.”

The question made you a weird sort of uncomfortable; not sure why the observation from your roommate had you shifting over your blankets. “Yea, I.. she’s my best friend. I was really, um.. nervous about meeting you last week so she kinda let me hide in her dorm.”

Dina laughs gently, “Oh! I thought I had pissed you off or something, and you were hiding out with your girlfriend.”

“No!” you quickly say, fumbling to make a gesture with your hands. “First, definitely not girlfriend,” it felt important to say that before anything else, “and second, you didn't do anything. I'm just a pussy.”

The answer draws another laugh from Dina, which has you smiling along. Your phone is discarded as you find yourself settling back into a conversation about tv shows, “C’mon, let’s keep going with the list.”

A few moments later, a buzz pulls you out of the little world that had grown around you and Dina as you chattered. It was your phone, the picture of you and Ellie that acted as your lock screen covered by a text notification.

els

she axe murder u?

You grin a lot more than you should have, lip sucking between your teeth as you reply.

you

why? worried abt me? 🤨

els

just wanted to see u say i was right

you

k🖕🖕

The text is sent without much more thought, pressing down your phone to be face down as you hop back to the conversation at hand. Ellie, though you hate to admit it, was right. Dina wasn’t an axe murderer. She was actually really cool. She made it easy to talk, the words falling from your lips without the usual pause to make sure it sounded alright.

“Maybe we should start New Girl now,” Dina suggested, pulling the fuzzy blanket on your bed over herself. “Deal,” you grab your laptop from its place under your bed, making quick work of pulling up the show and setting the screen in between you two. You pull your knees to your chest, listening to the theme song as Dina makes herself comfortable on the other side.

When the following text came in, you were a few episodes in, cheeks sore from the jokes Dina had made along with the characters in the show. The sun was beginning to dim by then, and though it was early— you still rubbed your eyes from tiredness. The long drive to Jackson and back always did that to you.

els

come over and watch smthn?

els

i got ur fave snack from the caf

You didn’t see the text this time, phone screen still pressed softly into the corner of your bed. The buzz didn’t gain your attention either, too focused on watching Jess steal a TV from her ex onscreen. You were sure Ellie loved this episode, one you had played far too many times in high school. But the crinkled nose of Ellie’s reaction to jokes was replaced by the loud laughs of your roommate this time, and you didn’t mind. You didn’t mind how you let your eyes blink closed while still sitting up, and didn’t mind how Dina turned off the episode and hopped off your bed.

“You look tired,” she commented, “get some sleep. Jesse wants me to come over anyway.”

You yawn as she speeds around her side of the dorm to put on shoes and gather her phone, blinking your bleary eyes as some sort of embarrassment settles in you. You had almost fallen asleep watching TV when it was barely even six yet. What a great impression to leave.

“Oh shit, sorry..” you sit up further, rubbing your eyes again.

“Dude, you drove like all day. I’d be tired too,” Dina assures you, ”think someone texted you,” she adds as she reaches the door, eyeing your phone screen that had lit up again.

els

???

You nod, offering a smile as a thanks, “See you later.”

Dina grins, shooting you a thumbs up as the door shuts behind her. A small huff is released, your head falling back against your pillows.

None of today had been as bad as you thought it would, but the tension of meeting someone new was still pressing on your bones, and the alone time allowed you to let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. Dina was sweet. She made you laugh and relatively comfortable.. but the attempt to make sure she liked you was still leaving a tired ache on you.

You should check your phone, Dina’s reminder ringing in your ears as you let your eyes flutter closed. But sleep seemed more important right now, so you tucked your face into the pillow under you and let yourself have that. Whoever texted could wait.

﹒ ♡₊˚﹕﹒₊﹕﹒₊˚

Ellie’s head was also pressed into a pillow. Only she was staring at the ceiling, picking at her nails. She tried to ease herself when the third text had gone unanswered, deeming that shoving her phone off the bed dramatically was the only correct answer. It would be too embarrassing to text you again.

Her own dorm room was empty, a movie pressed paused on the first few minutes— a bag of your favorite chips next to it.

Maybe it was a little selfish, texting you and asking you to come over when she had been the one to tell you to get to know Dina. But Ellie was always a little selfish with you.

Especially when you stopped answering her texts.

She wanted to know exactly how everything went, how Dina had acted to you, if she was friendly, and if you got along. She wanted to know what you thought of Dina, what you thought of anything that happened. Ellie wanted you to be sitting on her bed telling her all this like you always did. But you hadn’t answered.

Maybe you had really hit it off with Dina and were doing something. That was what Ellie wanted for you. So she knew there was no reason to feel a sharp twinge in her chest at the thought you had ignored her texts to instead hang out with your roommate.

Her reactions when it came to you never made much sense.

So she had instead ended up with her eyes glued to the white paint of her dorm, convincing herself you had most definitely forgotten about her. Part of her brain waited for a buzz of her phone, maybe a knock on her door. It didn’t come, and Ellie shoved the chips off her bed next in retaliation to this. Maybe she was a little dramatic, but you had ignored her! Or, Ellie assumed you had.

In retrospect, she knew it wasn’t a big deal. She had just spent the whole weekend with you, and it had only been a few hours of unanswered texts. She could survive. She didn’t need her best friend to watch every movie. Ellie could wait until tomorrow to hear about your roommate. She could tell herself all of this, but it still made her ribs hurt a little. A bit more than it should.

But Ellie didn’t like to think about those sorts of things, the things that stayed unspoken between you. That had stayed that way since you met. Honestly, Ellie wasn’t even sure you noticed it. She knows she tries not to. She tries to lock all the little things away in the little box in her brain labeled ‘DON'T GO THERE!’

But when Ellie was alone, when you did things like not answer her for a while, or you two get into a small banter— she knows her reactions weren’t exactly normal. She knows that the anger in her stomach that builds with each moment you don't text her back isn't exactly normal. But as always, Ellie pushes it down. Plays it off to herself as dramatic girl friendships, something Joel used to always say about you and her when another argument left her in a shitty mood.

Yea, that’s all it was.

So she tucked her chin into a pillow, pressing play on the movie by herself, pulling out her journal from its place under her pillow to begin doodling in.

Like always, the pencil begins to leave lines of you. Today it was your sweatshirt that you tugged all around today. Ellie knew it as her own, one you had stolen from her all the way back when she was a senior. She isn’t sure you remember it, but she surely does. She remembers it whenever you pull it over your arms or stuff it in your backpack. You took that thing everywhere when it was cold enough, and Ellie always noticed.

She huffs, scribbling over the sketch with hard pencil marks, ripping through the paper as she writes in bold, messy letters, ‘Don't go there with her.’ Ellie forced the journal closed, doing her best to focus on the screen.

Halfway through the movie, she fell asleep, head pressed halfway on the pillow, her phone still empty from notifications.

series taglist: @totheblood @elliewill @rxllingstones @elliesflower @hrtsellie @ellieluhme @darlingmisa @liabadoobee @muthafuckingstargirl @ribbonsouls @cretaceouss @bambiesfics @sl4t22 @callmekittenandyourmajesty @waywardpiratebird @starfaegirl @romantic-slaps-on-the-asss @haiixo @arcaneangstenjoyer @lllijeu

[k2ntoss]

okay so yet again i was scrolling through insta reels and i saw this and immediately thought, 'oh jason would love one of this with his helmet' so i thought i'd share (hopefully the video doesn't just disappear into the ether or this wont make much sense but yeah)

https://www.instagram.com/reel/C8XdIwStYFg/?igsh=MWdzZXVpZHV3dm8zbw==

((in case it does for some reason disappear, it was a reel of a girl making a diy spiderman mask shirt with a pattern and then the red colouring bit of the mask was filled in with kisses using paint))

but yeah, i think making a red hood one for jason would be so fun and i just know the man would be so so smitten when it's given to him

anyways, love you, glad your posting again

- the ever present 🦊

"the ever present" OMG I ADORE YOU!!!!!! hi baby, been missing you with your brain tickling requests (i have one on hold but just you wait)

i've been looking to do one of those for me with red hood's logo bc i'm as single as one can be and i know i won't be getting someone to do this for me but okayyyyyy i can do it on my own. here comes something short but done with a lot of love

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ𔓕 ۪  ۫ ୭

jason had been waiting outside the room for hours maybe, he was just sitting on the couch as he looked at the door like a sad puppy because he had arrived this morning to your apartment looking foward to spend time with you. some cuddling, watching a movie together or reading, jason just wanted some quality time with his beloved.

he knew you had been busy during the week with a huge amount of projects you wanted to do but he wasn't expecting you to get so fixated over one to lock yourself into your room and not even peek to see him and he didn't knew why, what jason also didn't knew was the fact that you were already getting dizzy by the smell of paint inside your closed room as you placed the shirt over your desk again, grabbing a pencil to fix the outline of the desing for the hundreth time in the day.

"fuck, fuck, fuck..." you muttered as low as you could to keep jason from darting into the room and ruin the surprise and it took you a good couple of hours to finally have it done, the paint almost completely dry now and the image of it was neat, making you smile and giggle happily.

and it's just then when you decide it's time to open the door, peeking your head through the small space to find jason almost melted on the couch, his head resting against the wall as he kept his eyes closed but it wasn't even a second by when he snapped his eyes open to look at you with a small frown.

"baby? why are you-?" she stopped mid sentence, taking in the sight of your paint smeared lips and chin, the red bright color now cracked on your skin as you smiled back at him as if you just made the biggest discovery in your life.

"hush! c'mere, jaybirdie" you say, leaving the door to your room wide open just to reveal the fact that your whole frame was a mess and that the paint was not only on your face but it had dripped to your shirt and also to your bare thighs to the skin that wasn't covered by the sleeping shorts you were wearing.

jason stands up from his seat, stretching completely from his quick nap and walks into the now messy room. the small paint pots across the floor and desk in different shades of red, paint brushes here and there and then the sight of you standing in front of the middle of your desk, covering something jason couldn't quite see well enough to know what it was.

"i saw something and i had to do this... it's probably the cheesiest thing i've ever done so feel free to laugh at me" and those words make jason tilt his head because what on earth could be so cheesy and made with paint that needed this much time leaving him out of your room? because yes, jason wanted to cuddle and don't blame him.

"princess-" he starts but goes silent the second you pull from the desk a black shirt with a print of his helmet on it, all made in different shades of red kiss marks that emulated the shade of light and everything. his lips remain parted as he walks slowly towards you, his fingers gently tracing the outline of the print on the shirt before he looks at your face, the paint in your skin the evidence of the time you spent painting your lips and pressing kisses to the shirt to make something so sweet for him.

"is it too much? you know, you can just put it into your closet if you don't like-" but your words are cut by a tender kiss, jason cups your face in such a delicate embrace as he lets all his feelings pour into that simple kiss.

"i love it. i love you" he says, his voice a soft whisper even in that deepish tone of his and it makes your heart flutter because jason looks completely happy with the shirt as he holds it into his hands, still admiring the way you decided to replicate a part of him "it's just perfect..."

"can i wear it already?"

the question itself is the sweetest reaction he could give you, the eagerness to wear something you made for him making you giggle excitedly as you shook your head with a small pout.

"not yet, red... i should iron it and give it a quick wash so the paint stays on the fabric" and he pouts slightly because god knows how much he wishes to have your kisses closer to his heart.