#but i loved how messy the interiors were

[attic-moth]

The Cat Returns (2002) dir. Hiroyuki Morita

[chaldeanu]

afternoon ノ dr. ratio

ৎ୭ ₊ ˙ ⊹ . 4.7k ノ fem reader — vague description of comfy clothes with open buttons and lace ノ either early in the relationship or unspecified BUT with feelings — reader is just visiting ratio in his home ノ oral . both receiving ノ long foreplay . fingering ノ it is so messy and domestic ノ doing it raw . cumming inside ノ sappy and sweet dialogues here and there ノ love confessions during a rough fucking session yum! ノ fluff . comfort . smut — the full course :)

the golden rays of the afternoon sun filter through the linen drapes, casting a warm, ethereal glow upon the house.

the classy furniture and one rug, woven with intricate patterns and vibrant hues, add charm to the overall rather minimalistic interior. throughout the room, various relics and books, both old and freshly published, infuse the space with a sense of elegancy.

veritas ratio thinks you fit the imagery perfectly, finding you exactly where he expected you to be — on the plush cushions on the sofa, adorned with rich fabrics and delicate embroidery, beckoning to sink into their soft embrace. the gilded mirror reverses the soft light, casting a golden glitter on the place where you sit.

you notice him in the reflection before you turn to face him. he looks magnificent with that charming smile of his.

there is something about your appearance that catches his eyes too — perhaps the way the homey clothing falls over your lap or the loosely open buttons that bring attention to your chest? or maybe it’s the lace that hugs your curves.

whatever it is, the fact is that he has always thought you beautiful, even though he rarely compliments anyone. and now you appreciate the peaceful afternoon in his living room as if it was your own.

“hi… how’s work?” you ask to start the conversation.

“work? challenging. however, i would not engage in it if it were overly facile. i enjoy mental stimulation.” his voice sounds proud yet elegant, his figure confident. he stands up straight as a candle, while the back of his hand is close to his chin. appearing more like a statue than a human being.

“mhm… taking a break, then? to clear your mind?”

“yes, indeed. there is only one thing that can help me relax at this hour… that one activity i dearly love when time is in abundance…” his grin is soft and smug as he walks closer.

his approach does not scare you — in fact, it is rather endearing.

enough time for you to put down the book you were reading before he leans against the headrest and asks for your hand.

the contact makes you embarrassed. veritas ratio keeps smiling and leaves a sweet peck on your knuckles. another one on your wrist. and then on your forearm, travelling up along your body.

before you realise, he is already kissing you passionately and finds a way to touch your waist under the comfy clothes, tickling and teasing the skin. when it comes to your attitude, you get shy when he touches you like that — a contrast to his unwavering demeanour, how easily you sway under his confidence.

as his hands trail down, caressing you in sensitive spots and brushing against your thighs, his lips never stop tasting yours, occasionally drawing little patterns along your neck.

he likes you, loves you in some ways even, though it would require another page of explanations — sometimes he just wishes to make sure you know of his fondness, while using you to get rid of the stress that occupies his brain.

“may i touch you? will you spread your legs for me?” he murmurs with that haughty smile of his.

it feels weirdly empowering to hear him say something like that, especially knowing he isn’t used to asking others such questions. you do as he asked, letting veritas’ long fingers slip past the thin layers of fabrics.

you shiver with delight and anticipation as his cool digits press firmly onto your burning flesh. his palm shifts carefully, just barely, testing out what his moves have on you. his other one is resting on your chest, pressing your body deeper into the sofa and holding it still.

in no time, one finger parts your pussy apart and penetrates you in the most careful manner possible — it’s gentle, almost too cautious to be real, ensuring that he’s not setting a pace your body cannot match until you’re warm and wet.

“mmh… that’s an unusual way to rest from work. you’re still thinking too much, you know?” you say with a dreamy sigh, starting to enjoy all these little sparks he extracts from your insides.

veritas chuckles.

“indeed, i am. however, my thoughts now are focused solely upon pleasing you,” he answers. “i must say… i prefer this state of mind.”

you moan softly, but immediately feel ashamed of your reaction, as if it were inappropriate for such sounds to be voiced. veritas looks pleased, though, watching with intent as his digit slides further into your core, easier. you wish you could reach out to touch him in return, but he’s sitting upright and away from your needy hands — so you resort to hugging a pillow close to your chest.

there is a sizable tent forming in his trousers and you wonder if he will allow you to taste him later.

the idea is so exciting and your inner walls squeeze his digit as it sinks with each slow thrust. the firm tip of his thumb rubs gentle circles on your clit, sending jolts of pleasure up your nerves. nothing gets past his cautious eyes. he peers at you intently, drinking in the sight of your squirming form.

instead of adding another digit, he lowers himself down the couch and parts your knees even wider, giving his head room between your legs.

the feeling of his soft, slick tongue slipping over your glistening pussy is heavenly, and your grip on the pillow tightens, as the motions become more demanding, exploring your folds and the area around your opening. his finger continues the agonisingly steady rhythm, guiding you into the bliss.

each flick of his wet muscle has your breathing speed up a notch. veritas doesn’t rush things though. he’s well aware of every move he makes and the impact it has on you — yet you can tell there is something about him that stays collected as he continues.

even through the haze of your lust, you sense that he’s trying to figure out if there are more ways in which he could satisfy you.

just when you think the stimulation will be enough to get you there in a few moments, his hands retreat and his mouth latches onto your sensitive bundle of nerves, causing the ecstasy to arrive immediately. the unexpected sensation has you cry out, and clamp your thighs around his head for a moment before forcing them back open again. he continues as if nothing happened and slowly coaxes a wave of arousal, swallowing hungrily as it spills onto his face. he does not cease his actions, not until your entire being trembles with release.

withdrawing reluctantly, he licks his lips before giving you one final, sweet peck on your slit, listening to your hiccups. then he rests his head against your lap and looks up with a smirk.

“given the look on your face,“ he comments before reaching for the wipes from under the coffee table and cleaning the mess off your folds and from his chin, “this was far more beneficial than i anticipated…”

“let me touch you too…” you whine weakly, still coming down to your senses, each caress of his palm on your inner thigh making you bounce.

pondering over your sweet plea for a moment, he moves up until straddling your chest, his muscular legs on each side of your frame and his pants in front of your face. the view makes your body tremble in excitement. working on opening his slacks, he keeps the eye contact with you, the amber of his irises warmly burning onto your face.

his cock springs out and slaps lightly against your cheek, his hips inching further down. you immediately grasp the opportunity to swirl your tongue around the tip and lap at the hot flesh eagerly.

not to waste any more time with what’s right before you, you start sucking until you hear a soft chuckle from him.

“quite lovely, this sight of yours.”

your lips pop around the hard girth and you smile while panting, his hand petting your head gently.

“hmm… you can use my mouth, if you want to,” with an adorable giggle, you kiss the glossy head and pump the base lazily with your fist.

his eyes light up at that idea as he slides his shaft more down your throat, making you groan with effort as you struggle to keep up without gagging.

the burning ache of your jaw, combined with his quiet praise, is enough to light the fire in your own core again, your fists clasping around his hips for support as he fucks your mouth in shallow thrusts.

“i would prefer not to make you uncomfortable. this is enough…” he says with a dark timbre in his voice, staring right into your teary eyes.

unable to speak, you only take him deeper, his length tapping at the back of your throat and catching him by a surprise. breathlessly, but no less excited, he smiles and gets the hint that you wish to continue.

“very well then,” he begins to buck his hips, working his way to a better angle, taking care to not go too rough.

your nose bumps against his underbelly from time to time as he eases further. it’s an odd yet pleasurable mix of being choked and suffocating, but it’s the sight of him that’s driving you insane — someone who’s done everything with perfection is now panting above you, a peachy tint of blush on his face as he gets hot.

it doesn’t take much to bring him close to the edge — perhaps it’s been too long since he got some relief, or perhaps it’s your performance that impresses him. either way, it feels wonderful to witness how much he’s enjoying it, and even more, when silent moan slips down his tongue and he stills your head with his cock buried in your mouth.

it takes all of his endurance and patience to refuse to cum, the damp warmth of your throat and mixed saliva with his precum teasing too much out of him. especially when it runs past your lips in a single drop as you cough lightly…

slowly pulling out, veritas holds the head of his still hard dick to your face, stroking himself to ease the strain and the need for release. you blink innocently while he smears the drool around your mouth and cheeks, collecting some at his fingertips to let you suck them clean.

“mhm… very good,” he sighs. “i would ask for more from you… there are plenty of other things we could explore together, in case you are willing.”

he quickly kisses your forehead as you hum happily, nodding and agreeing.

“i will get you water, wait a moment.” he helps you to sit up.

when you drink from the glass he brought, veritas watches with a smile as if he were proud to see you gulp it down, waiting for you to finish.

“will you stay with me overnight? i would love to feel you close during sleep,” he asks with an unexpected, yet honest tenderness in his tone.

it makes your heart race to know that he’d want such closeness with you. you are about to give in when he continues.

“well, you know me — i never ask unless i need something. if you have anything planned, i can take you to your place instead… that is, if you are comfortable with that,” his words trail off quietly.

the last drops of water trickle down your throat and you cough once more to get rid of the sticky residue from the insides of your cheeks, but then you smile at him, flushed and glowing.

“of course i want to… i’ve been missing you quite a lot lately, you know?” you purr at him, cradling his face in your arms as you shift closer.

a pair of sharp brows quirks up with interest. the amber of his eyes shines in golden hues of the afternoon and you swear you can hear him chuckle softly. suddenly, the couch seems warmer, but it’s not from the thin rays of the sun that peek from behind the curtains.

“what an interesting reply. you cannot hide it from me anymore… your yearning,” he notes confidently.

“neither do you.” you point out.

at that, he flips you flat over his lap, your tummy resting on the sofa while your ass perks up nicely right under his hands. a firm slap on your butt has you yelping in surprise.

“true… it appears i cannot, though that was not the answer i was looking for, dear.”

the little squeaks you made only help his palm to fall more freely, spanking you like that — it meets your flesh again gently, playfully even, but he allows the sting to linger this time.

but he does not relish in granting you pain, even if so brief, so his fingers slide down between your legs again.

he can feel that you are still wet from your earlier orgasm — yet there is something in the way his touch makes you shiver, his deft digits trailing along your heated, slick skin, that makes him more eager to get you squirm in his hold again.

“what a marvellous thing you are… just where i want you to be.” he coos.

in a blink of an eye, you find yourself pressed against the embroidered cushions, your clothes once more doing absolutely nothing to cover you up when they get pulled to the side. all you can do is to cry out when his thumb slides inside and he starts circling your clit with his index.

“fuck!” you pant in disbelief, his clever digits setting the perfect tempo, slipping in and out easily while rubbing your sensitive button.

veritas doesn’t utter a word — he seems to be studying the way your body reacts to his movements, gauging your every gasp and twitch. when he finds a pattern that makes you moan louder and cling to the fabric, he does not stop until your pleasure bursts in its peak.

there is no break for you — he uses your thighs to grind his cock into full hardness again, enjoying the feeling of your velvety walls hugging his thumb.

then it stops abruptly, as he’s pulling out with a satisfied grunt.

“would you allow me to feel you in a different manner?” he asks with his chin on your shoulder and his breath ghosting against your neck.

he leans down and presses another kiss just below your ear, his teeth grazing on your sensitive skin, followed by his lips moving down your nape, his tongue licking and tasting as he goes.

“it will certainly take all my remaining energy to make this day unforgettable for you. i truly hope that you will forgive my boldness in that matter,” his whispers travel through the waves of your senses.

there is no strength left within you to lift your head or talk — the impression of his hands gliding over your flesh, massaging your back before sliding lower to cup your ass is maddening. your lips part in a soft groan of pleasure when you feel his naked erection pressing in between your cheeks, sliding languidly between your folds.

“may i?” his voice is tight, like his patience has run thin as he pushes the tip in just a few inches.

you whine helplessly, rutting against the pillows and the couch, desperately seeking friction. you can barely breathe properly, trying to speak while he slides deeper, the pressure of him stretching you against your limit already making you squirm.

“yes, please… f-feels amazing.”

without wasting any more time, veritas draws his hips back only to drive himself in and to pin your body onto the sofa with his weight. it is overwhelming, he fills you up just right, your body convulsing as he brushes a particularly sensitive spot.

there are no more coherent thoughts from you. you cannot help but keen in pure delight, clawing the cushion, his hands resting on your hips.

the first few strokes are slow and shallow, allowing you to ease into the new sensation and enjoy his manly frame surrounding you. he does not miss a single beat — it takes him mere seconds to realise you will probably bruise with his forceful grip on your body, and he backs off to hover over you again, leaving your backside exposed.

“ouch, thanks.” you gasp out in relief, freed from his strength, a moment later asking shakily. “you’re doing alright?”

“ah, well. i cannot complain… in fact, i would appreciate more of this tight heat around my cock… and i can surely fulfil your wishes as well,” he promises, his thrusts picking up the pace.

it is almost overbearing with how rough he treats you now, your clenching pussy spurring him on as he pounds you mercilessly. you squeeze your eyes shut and bite your lip, while he forces you to accept each swift pump of his girth until you lose yourself.

“should i be gentler? make it more bearable for you?”

“no… really,” you murmur. “fuck me until you are content. please…” you whimper.

your heart is about to jump out of your chest as it thrums against the upholstery. veritas is right behind you, his grip returning on your hips, pulling you backwards each time he bucks his hips forward.

he’s much more demanding now, taking everything he wants from your body as he slams himself in and out with desire, fucking you faster and harder, yet his face shows nothing more than serenity as he continues, completely composed as his pelvis snaps against your backside.

he doesn’t respond, too focused on satisfying his need as he bounces your butt. the tension is rising in you with every stroke, as you bury your face into the pillows and drown your sobs into it.

veritas pushes in as deep as he can go, before slowing down until he comes to a stop, nestled comfortably inside of you.

his chest rests against your back and he finally moves his arms, wrapping them around you from above, pulling you close. you try to turn your head to see his face, but he won’t let you, placing soft kisses along your hairline instead.

“you should get used to it by now. i want you to remember the feeling of me inside of you… for quite some time, at least. besides, we both know you prefer this position, don’t you?” his voice is warm as he speaks in a whisper.

“i love this,” you answer with a struggle. “ngh… you make me so happy,” you add, nuzzling the pillow with a fire dancing on your cheeks.

a rich chuckle resonates in his chest. he lies perfectly still for a while, his length throbbing against your core and bringing a strange comfort with it — in moments like this, it is almost hard to believe he could be capable of being mean.

just when you think you’re getting drowsy, he presses another sweet kiss against the crook of your neck.

“i am delighted to hear that.” he shifts, his tip nudging your inner walls once again and making you whimper. “i do hope i am doing well in treating you appropriately, though. if there is anything you wish for, tell me.”

“well… perhaps you could move.” you wiggle your bum a bit, brushing your swollen core against him.

the sound of his laugh is music to your ears, especially as his gentle hand pulls away to take a firm hold of your butt and starts caressing the supple flesh.

“alright.”

with deliciously slow motions, he rocks his hips forward and back. the slapping sound of his skin against yours growing in volume, despite your own wailing. incredibly tight and sensitive in the cage of his arms — you yield.

“want you… please, yes…” your moans seem to spur him on even more.

veritas pulls back only to snap his hips into you in one strong thrust, the base of his thick girth crowding you entirely, your arousal providing more than enough slick to take him in. your thighs quiver with every stroke, but you feel delirious as you eagerly take whatever he decides to give.

a quiet mewl escapes your lips when he reaches an angle that allows him to rub his shaft right on all the sensitive spots — the sensual massage makes you weak and unable to form words.

the other hand is resting on your nape, keeping your face planted firmly into the pillows. the gentle hum of his voice only adds fuel to the fire igniting deep within your loins, but you can’t deny the pleasure you derive from listening to his ranting, his velvety tone vibrating in his throat.

“hmph, and you shall have me…”

it is possible to tell, even through your pleasured haze, that you have started to satisfy his needs — your tight, soaked cunt gripping him in a way that has him craving for the finale.

he places his lips next to your ear and sighs before his next words.

“i cannot be lenient with you… it seems i really am attracted to that naive individual whose actions brought us to this very desperate situation.”

this makes your heart flutter with affection towards him, yet you do not move. his tender touch and loving words, however, are enough to make you swoon as he keeps speaking, his eyes falling half-lidded.

“this is not the first time i found myself thinking about how beautiful you look while lost in passion. and i really, really would like to help you to come undone. soon.”

the last thing he says before focusing solely on driving his hips flush against yours.

each long thrust is paired with a grunt from him as he rams in and out of your abused hole, your body trapped under him as you lay limp against the plush sofa, while he pins you down.

you feel him everywhere, his hands groping you wherever he finds space between the pillows, his cock pumping relentlessly between your legs as his lower abdomen rolls smoothly against your butt.

you try to suppress your wailing, but a choked moan still slips from between your lips. his chin resting on your shoulder while his cheek rests on your head, close, almost like cuddling. your legs are already shaking, the sensation is so overwhelming that it brings tears to your eyes, your clenching pussy driving him absolutely crazy, the muscles spasming around him forcing his eyelids shut as he begins to breathe heavily.

veritas drops his voice an octave, whispering against your hair as he keeps up the fast pace, not giving you time to recover. he’s close too — your whole body trembles beneath his weight.

“yes, come on… cum for me,” he says with a raw, husky tone.

without the support of the pillows, your forehead sinks into the sofa and you feel him curl his fingers in your hair. he tugs softly at the locks as he holds onto you and uses his other hand to keep you steady for him.

there is no way for you to prevent your legs from twitching violently as the wave hits you at full force, your entire frame shuddering while he fucks you through your release.

his movements get jerkier with each thrust, but he does not pull out to spill onto your skin — instead he rides your high while chasing his own until he stiffens, releasing himself deep into you with a groan.

he collapses on your back, panting heavily as he covers you completely. the room is spinning as he drifts in his pleasure, his palms roaming across your body while you feel your toes going numb, the muscles of your pelvic floor throbbing painfully.

veritas doesn’t seem to pay any mind to the mess you’re both lying in — as long as he stays inside you, he cares not what happens to the couch, it shouldn’t be that bad. his breathing is shallow as he peppers soft kisses over your neck and shoulders before moving up your nape to nuzzle your hair.

his arms encircle your waist, pulling you close, his chest against your back. your head is dizzy, and the room seems to have gone dark as your lids drop down.

“hey, sleepyhead. are you okay?” veritas mutters when you shift slightly beneath him.

you hum quietly, too spent to talk yet, and wrap your hands around his wrists to stop him from sliding them any further than they already have. he presses a soft kiss into your temple and turns your head sideways.

his fingertips brush along the line of your neck before settling against your skin, rubbing tiny circles. you take a few breaths before lifting your lashes to find yourself staring straight at veritas’ face — he is watching you all the same with soft eyes and hot flush on his cheeks.

“did i hurt you?” he whispers, concern showing clearly in his voice.

you shake your head gently. he doesn’t let you speak yet, his pads continuing their path downwards along your spine until he stops with one palm against your lower back, soothing the quivering muscles.

“it was intense for you,” he states rather than asking.

a shiver runs through your body. veritas gives you a warm smile and slowly eases himself from your battered cunt, a squelch following the action and making you both laugh softly.

“how do you feel? better now?” you ask once your thoughts become clear again, looking at him as he props himself up to clean the mess, again.

“a lot, actually.” he responds. he gets a bit flustered when your gaze stays fixed on him. “and i apologise for my rough behaviour. you know i wouldn’t dare to—”

“i enjoyed it. a lot, too,” you interrupt him mid-sentence, though with your weak voice it was more of his mercy to pause to let you talk.

“really?” he looks surprised, incredulous.

“i always have… enjoyed everything you have done to me,” you tell him in all honesty and sigh softly, your eyes flickering up and meeting his as your body sluggishly turns to the side. “you’re just very considerate in bed. the opposite of selfish. you put me first every time, and that makes me happy,” you smile through tired expression.

veritas purses his lips. instead of answering immediately to your unexpected confession — that made him quite flustered, which he wouldn’t like to admit — he focuses on wiping you clean from the slick mix of essences leaking out of you and running down your legs, while humming thoughtfully.

you bite your lip, staying silent. your hand finds its place on his thigh, resting there in a calming manner, his leg trembling under your touch.

when he speaks again, it is nothing more than a whisper.

“i am pleased to hear that you’ve noticed,” he says with a total composure laced in his words, his fingers holding a bunch of tissues between the two of you.

you hum contently, taking his free hand into yours and raising it to your lips, planting soft, little kisses on the back of his palm, trailing his knuckles and then the sides of his wrist.

you can tell he is stunned, but doesn’t seem to mind, or show any sign of displeasure. he returns to his original task after a second, carefully cleaning you before standing up and fixing his pants, placing a loving kiss on your cheek and excusing himself to make some tea for you to drink, since it will soon be dinnertime.

he goes back into the kitchen while you lie undressed on his couch, your heartbeat finally starting to calm down. through the high of satisfation and tiredness, you notice the details on the rug, small indents in the threads where the coffee table was placed before. and the golden embossing slightly worn from the covers of the books he’s reading, probably from the touch of his pads.

you like this place, it feels like your home too.

ৎ୭ ₊ ˙ ⊹ . author’s note ノ if i missed any mistakes, i will cry, editing this took years off my life. BUT i really hope it was sweet and worth reading <3 i personally think this is my new favourite fic of mine, i got too emotional writing and fixing it :’) but i love this man so so much — so it was worth it!

[just-a-jock]

Happy late Halloween. I hope you guys enjoy this Halloween special. Aaron miller is my favorite fitness influencer and always want to use him in story’s but always want to save him for something good. I ended up saying fuck it and writing the below. Let me know if you like it!

ROOMMATE CLONESTUME (Halloween Special)

You would think having a fitness influencer as a college roommate would be like winning the lottery. Being able to see pieces of eye candy almost every day, almost practically shirtless all the time, but it’s not all sunshine and rainbows. You see Aaron Miller was your typical douchebag straight jock bro behind the camera. Always calling me fag but always saying he’s just joking and I need to toughen up. Of course, you would never catch him like that on camera, always playing like the fun-loving jock goofball. Thankfully he’s leaving tonight to go to some stupid Halloween party at the frat house.

“Yo fag! How do I look” I hear his voice call from the living room

“Fucking hot right! All the chicks are gonna be all over me begging from some of this Miller cock” he said while smirking and flexing in front of the full-length mirror in the living room

“Yeah I’m sure they will Aaron” I reply while rolling my eyes and begging he would leave soon.

“You know some other frat across campus invited me to their Halloween but I already promised my bro I’m going to Alpha Omegas party. Feel free to accept my invite”

"I think I'm good, I got to finish my term paper but I guess thanks" I replied thinking it weird why he would think I would somehow fit in at a frat party

“Well, bro the invite is in my room and feel free to use last year's costume.. might be a bit big haha. Anyway gotta go before the good Pus gets taken” Aaron said taking one last pic for his IG story and heading out

“Thank god, I can finally work on my paper,” I said heading to my room. I walk by Aaron’s room and notice his door ever so slightly open. I ended up looking in and seeing a paper which I assumed was the invite lying on his messy bed next to what seemed to be the black Spiderman suit he wore last year for Halloween.

“Wow, did he really think I was gonna put that on” I say as I continue to walk further into the room the scent of stale gym clothes and musky axe cologne lingered in the air.

As I get closer to the bed I keep looking back and forth from the costume and the letter. I don’t know why but I ended up grabbing the costume something about it was calling me. The silky satin feeling of the spandex with the scent of stain sweat and beer, most likely from last year's party. “Maybe I should try it on” I whisper under my breath.

I start to undress myself in Aaron’s room until I’m standing in just my briefs. I look around feeling kinda risqué in his room half naked, but something felt right about putting this one. I slowly start to unzip the costume looking into the dark interior. As I started to put on the costume I could immediately tell it was quite a few sizes too big and especially since Aaron had worn it previously certain areas were stretched out more than usual. I slowly start to pull the costume up my body as I get halfway to putting it on something feels wrong

“No no why am I doing this I need to work on my paper” I say snapping out of the hazy confusion but as soon as I try to take off the suit I knew something was wrong

“What the fuck” The rest of the suit starts to climb up my slim body and sticking to any skin it touches. I tried to remove it, but the suit just snapped back almost like a second skin. “STOP” I scream as it continues to travel upwards my body covering all the way up until it reaches my neck. I soon hear the noise of a zipper closing and a cold feeling riding up my back. I immediately reached backwards trying to catch the self-moving zipper before it closed all the way, but I was too late as soon as I grabbed the zipper head I felt it disappear from my hand as the suit started to close up leaving no seam behind.

“What the fuck is this, how does this happen” I continue trying to take off the suit but it just gets tighter and tighter until a moment where I lose control. “What..” my body starts to move slowly by itself it feels like I lost control of anything the suit has encompassed. I start to move towards Aaron’s nightstand, grab the remote to his TV and turn it on. I was immediately blasted with the audio and imagined Aaron almost like he was starting off one of his annoying Instagram videos.

“What is going on PEEEOPLES! Or should I say fag” he said chuckling to himself at the uncreative nickname he has bestowed upon me.

“WHAT THE FUCK AARON WHAT IS THIS” I scream at the tv as my body stands still disobeying my mind.

“ you’re probably going “what the fuck Aaron?” or some shit like that but no bother bro, this is all recorded. No one to help you now haha. You see I was tired of having some fuck ass roommate that I couldn’t share anything with so I looked online and found this powder with some special powers. I sprinkled it on my old costume and all I had to do was wait for the next person to wear it. I knew you would be tempted. I mean who couldn’t” he says as he flexes his bicep.

“So anyways, I got invited to this banger party and said yes but some other frat also invited me to theirs and like fuck I couldn’t be in two places at once. So I thought and figure maybe you’ll like to go but couldn’t have some loser gay fag representing me so I decided you needed a small makeover. That special powder is gonna make you into me and you won’t even remember ever being your faggy little self. So hope you enjoy the party bro and remember the party is not complete till a girl gets bred.” And with that the TV shut off but before I could react something went over my head shutting my eyes

“Fuck fuck get this off of me” I say noticing that it was a mask probably to complete the stupid Spider-Man costume.

Soon the changes started to happen I felt the suit tighten but at the same time expand. It first started with my feet growing to a large size 14. The changes travelled upwards as my calfs and thighs started to expand giving me tree trunks for legs. I knew I wouldn’t be able to fit in any of my pants anymore. Soon I felt a pain in my stomach like I was kicked by a boxer

“UGH FUCK” I say as I fall on my knees. While I couldn’t see anything under the suit I knew abs started to form one by one leaving an impressive six-pack behind. As I looked down I started to see my chest push out. Creating a shelf right under my head. Two massive pecs now jutted out of my body and now I had to make an effort if I wanted to see any part of my body below my pecs.

The change travelled outwards as the suit forced me to do a double bicep pose typical of what I see Aaron do when he’s back from the gym. Soon my biceps and triceps started to expand like crazy. My muscles became sore as they grew to match his arms exactly.

Lastly, the feeling travelled up to my face and I felt the muscles crack inside my skull and the fat draining from my cheeks. I was screaming in agony until the pain suddenly left.

My body Finally fell down to the ground like a puppet dropped by its owner. I slowly get up and start to remove the mask and notice the zipper has reappeared. I zip the costume just until it hits my waist. My body was sweating from the changes and I needed to know what happened.

I knew Aaron had a mirror in his closet and ran to the door to open it. Nothing could have prepared me for what I was seeing…

An exact copy of him was standing right in the mirror.

“No no, this can’t be… I can’t be him” I say panicking not recognizing my own body in front of me. I tried to figure out what I could do to change back and started to run to my room, but as soon as I reached the door to exit, I came to a sudden halt.

I looked down which was difficult trying to see over these massive pecs and realised I still had the costume on. My eyes widened as my legs started to walk me back to his desk and force me to sit down. I tried to fight back but to no use. I was losing control… soon my arm started to move toward the computer and turning it on

“No wait, stop please” I scream at my unresponsive body but it continued to move on its own.

As the computer turns on a pre-loaded video comes along with it...

YOU ARE AARON MILLER

“NO NO STOP” I scream realizing it was hypnosis

Clips of Aaron flexing and pictures of his body invade the screen between phrases.

YOU HAVE ALWAYS BEEN AARON

FLEX

JOCK

MUSCLE

My eyes started to become glued to the screen against my will. I tried to resist but I couldn’t. Soon I noticed my arms moving again. They move downwards and started to push the costume lower until *pop* my cock bounces out.

“No… please let me go,” I say as the arm reaches for my dick and starts to jack it off slowly at first.

JOCK

BRO

Soon the images changed. More of Aaron joking around with his friends, drinking, partying and working out. Videos of him fucking and breeding girls always started to appear. I knew some of them from school

BRO

DUDE

BREED

Soon the jacking off started to pick up speed as more and more of the hypnosis and reprogramming started to settle in. My brain was trying to fight a losing battle. I was able to gain a small amount of control to see my cock as I noticed it starting to expand. Slowly it lengthened from its original 5 inches hard …. 6…7….8 until I reached a mighty 9 inches. My hand started to lose grip as the girth also started to grow almost not allowing me to fully encompass the cock with one hand. Next, I felt my balls change they started to lower until they fell into a pouch inside the costume that no doubt used to be where the original Aaron had his. They grew larger as my moans started to overshadow the video. I felt a kick in the balls as I knew my old cum was being eaten by the new alpha cum Aaron produces

“Pls… uhhh… stop this” I say with the last residuals of will I had as my arm continued jacking my new cock until it reached near orgasm

“No….”

BREED

“Pls…”

JOCK

“I don’t”

YOU ARE

“Want thi….”

AARON MILLER

“FUUUUUUUCK”

I cum all over my body and my room as I snap out of the horny daze

“Fuck that was good. Now gotta get to that fucking party before someone takes all the good puss”

I get up from the desk and shuffle over to my closet to grab a used cum towel and wipe myself off.

I grab the costume from my waist and pull it all the way up zipping the costume as well. I smirk in the mirror knowing all the chicks are gonna want some of this Miller cock.

The original Aaron’s plan worked perfectly. He now had a complete copy of himself running around breeding and partying. He finally had someone he could share everything with, himself! Of course, people asked questions but he just said it was his twin brother.

[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!”

[juuuulez]

🎧 | agora hills, carmen berzatto.

somethin' different about you / love it when he hit and smack too / baby, lemme lick on your tattoos / that’s true that i like PDA / take it to a seedy place / suck a little dick in the bathroom.

NSFW, blowjobs, semi-public sex, cum stuff.

request a playlist roulette here!

It had been innocent enough. You’d suggested a bar you regular at, managing to drag about half the kitchen staff down. Beers were shared, maybe you had a few too many shots, but what the hell, who’s counting?

“Hey, hey,” Carmen whispers, shooting a panicked look over at the door. “They’re gonna realise. Someone’s gonna come in.”

He’s utterly freaked out as your nails scrape under his shirt, pushing the white fabric up and up and up. You get it high enough, before replacing fingers with teeth, leaning in to nip playfully at his exposed chest.

“Locked.” You mumble into his warm skin, pressing a few kisses into his chest before flattening your tongue, dragging it over the smooth surface of his pecs.

It earns a grunt in response, Carmen’s gaze still focused on the bathroom door. Outside, it was bustling, and it’ll be sooner rather than later that another patron needs to pee, and management discovers someone’s hijacked their bathroom.

But Carmen can’t help himself, a bitter taste on his tongue thinking back to the bar’s interior. Not the bar, the guys. You were a regular here, right? So, you had to know, how they all eyed you like a piece of meat.

“Sounds like you’ve done this before.” He mumbles, words tinged with something alike to jealousy, slightly condescending and definitely petty.

You bite sharply down at his chest, which earns a wince in response. Carmen’s hand moves up, clasping at the back of your head, trying to pry you from his sensitive skin. It works, for you move away, only to drop to your knees.

“Men are so goddamn weird,” You huff out, complaining mindlessly while your fingers work at his belt. It reduces Carmen to a nervous mess, his face fluctuating between the locked door, and you. “You don’t gotta be all anxious about other guys. I’m very happily taken.”

“Yeah but—” His voice tapers off into a sharp inhale, as you tug his cock from those old jeans. “They don’t know that.”

There’s more he wants to say, but it doesn’t come out, doesn’t even form in his mind. Carmen’s focus dissolves, forgetting all about the door, all about the bar, their friends. Your hand is soft as it wraps around his length, gentle caresses that have him quickly hardening, as if the sight of you down there didn’t do it already.

You move forward, licking a long stripe up the length of him, tracing a swollen vein. It ends at his tip, which you’re quick to wrap your lips around, mouth hollow as you mumble your reply through a mouthful of dick: “Then I gotta show them, huh?”

It’s filthy and Carmen is absolutely fucking done for. His hands grip the counter so hard his knuckles are white, panting and groaning above you while you suck him off, wet and messy, just the way he likes it. Spit is collecting in your mouth and dribbling past your lips, running down his shaft and collecting at the zipper of his jeans.

You’re quick about it, slick noises filling the space, hollowing your cheeks just right and paying extra attention to his reddened tip. “Please— fuck, please, can I?” Carmen doesn’t even get the question out, because you know exactly what he means, and you’re nodding as well as you can with him stuffed down your throat.

His hands move to your head, gripping handfuls of your hair and pulling you further onto him. Air forgoes you in favour of pulling each wrecked noise from your boyfriend, Carmen’s legs trembling with the pressure of an orgasm that builds and builds until he’s cumming hot strings down your throat. It’s salty and fills the cavity of your mouth, but you pull off a second before he’s finished spilling his load, fisting his cock and letting the few last drops land on your lips.

And Carmen is still panting, hair stuck to his forehead, unable to catch his breath as he watches you: using his dick to smear the cum over your lips, almost like putting on lipgloss, letting it seep into the cracks and crevices.

Words fail him as you hoist yourself to your feet, knees a little sore, feet a little numb, but ultimately uncaring. You bend over the sink next to him, pressing an exaggerated and firm kiss onto the bathroom mirror. The imprint it leaves behind is clear as day: a milky cum stain in the shape of your lips. You stare at it proudly, turning to grin back at Carmen, whose cock is hardening once more at the sight.

“Think that’s good enough?”

“Jesus fucking Christ.”

[darkeralmond]

cam cameron and the readers first time?

THANK YOU FOR THE REQUEST I LOVE U BAE!!

First Time

Cam Cameron x fem! Reader

synopsis: after your date with cam, things escalate when he decides to stay with you at your house

warnings: 18+, smut, first time sex, fingering

word count: 1.3k

a/n: I LOVE CAM SO MUCH!! i’m gonna need AE to come out with team cam shirts ASAP!! also spoiler alert for season 2 episode 4 BUT HAVE U SEEN JEREMIAH AND BELLY OH MY GOD THE HAND HOLDING CAUSED ME TO SCREAMMMM. TEAM JEREMIAH!! mark smut coming out soon!! (i hope)

masterlist | request info

“I can’t believe you beat me in ski ball,” you giggled as you looked over at Cam. “I’m like the reigning champion.”

He shrugged. “Turns out working at an arcade does come in hand sometimes.” You cracked a smile before letting out a snicker.

You were a debutante last year which is where you met Cameron. Both your guys' moms worked at the country club that hosted the ball. You would run into him often because of this. After a while, you developed a little crush on him and had asked him to be your escort since you didn’t have one.

It wasn’t until this year you actually decided to pursue something with him. You finally asked him out on a date and he picked the location, which was the arcade he worked at since he got a discount.

Cam had just dropped you off at your house and refused to let you walk up to your front door alone. He was truly a gentleman who was adorable and he knew it.

You grabbed your key out of your pocket and unlocked the door. “Can I come in and say hi to your mom?” he asked, peeking his head through the open door.

You giggled and looked back at him again. “No, my parents aren’t home.”

“Oh.” He then looked down at his phone, presumably checking the time before tucking it back into his pocket. “You sure you don’t want to come back to my house? I don’t want you to be here alone.”

You shook your head. “No, my dad wouldn’t like me going over to a boy’s house at night.” He nodded his head and flashed a quick smile, agreeing with you. “But you can stay here and keep me company!”

You didn’t even think twice about the offer, you just said it. His eyebrows raised slightly as his cheeks dusted a red tint. “Okay,” he gushed.

You let him into the house before shutting the door behind you two and locking the door. You watched as he admired the interior of the house, his mouth slightly hung open. “What?” you laughed.

“Nothing!” he said as he looked back at you. “Your house just looks like a beach house.”

“Well it is on the beach.” This won a chuckle out of him as he continued looking around. “You want a tour?” you asked as you walked up to him.

“Sure!” he answered as he nodded his head.

You grabbed his hand and led him around the entire downstairs. According to him, his favorite room was the living room due to the fireplace. You then led him upstairs and showed him every other room before leading him to your own room.

You opened the door and led him in. “Here’s my room. Sorry, it’s a little messy.” There was a t-shirt and a pair of socks lying on your unmade bed. You quickly took those off and threw them in your laundry basket.

At least your room smelled good because of the essential oils you had just purchased. “I like the vines on the wall,” he commented as he pointed at them.

You giggled, “Put them up myself.” You then plopped down on the bed and looked at him as he took in every corner of your room. “You wanna watch something? I can pull something up on my Mac.”

He nodded his head and sat down on the bed next to you.

…

You weren’t sure how it happened, but one thing led to another and now you were on top of him making out. You pulled away and looked down at him as his chest rose and fell with his heavy breaths.

“Have you done this before?” he asked. His eyes reminded you of a puppy. There was so much innocence in them and his lashes gave his eyes a more doe look.

You were tempted to lie and said you had, but staring into his eyes just poured the truth out of you. “Uh… no,” you answered. “Have you?”

“Nuh uh,” he said. You licked your lips and looked off to the side. “Do you… uh… want to?”

You looked back at him and hesitantly nodded your head. You could hear the beating of your heart in your ear, the silence between you two was deafening.

“Okay,” he breathed out. His hand met the side of your face before tucking loose strands of your hair behind your ear.

He smiled at you and gently leaned forward to capture your lips in his once more. You sighed against his lips, his touch sending chills down your spine.

Your hands slid up his shirt causing a groan to escape from his lips. He kissed you harder and deeper this time. You could feel his tongue poking at your bottom lip, hoping to meet yours. You let him do so, his tongue danced with his.

You felt his hands run up your shirt, his hands felt cold against your heated skin. It made you shiver a bit but you enjoyed every second of it.

You pulled away again and let him take off your shirt. He stared at your topless body, drooling over your figure.

You gasped softly, your breath hitching when his fingers brushed across your breasts. Your hips jolted as your nipples hardened beneath your bra.

“Fuck,” you whispered.

He noticed your reaction and stopped what he was doing. “Is this okay?” he asked. You nodded your head, leading him to cup your breasts again.

Him touching you felt nice, but you wanted to do more than that. You were just too nervous to ask. You didn’t want to obviously have full on sex, but you at least wanted him to do more.

Your face must’ve given that away because he asked, “What do you want me to do?”

“Uh,” you thought about it for a minute. “Can you… uh…” Your face turned bright red as embarrassment washed over you. “Finger me?”

His cheeks flushed crimson and his eyes widened. He pulled his finger away as he nodded. “Yeah,” he answered. You hopped off of him and laid down on the bed next to him.

His gaze softened and you gave him an encouraging grin. He swallowed hard before he slid his hand down your shorts.

Your breaths hitched as your eyes fluttered close. His fingers moved in a circular motion around your clit. You opened your eyes as you held back any sounds that may escape your lips.

He pulled you back into a kiss, it tasted like vanilla ice cream and mint toothpaste. He moved a little faster, rubbing your clit with his ring and middle fingers until you let a moan slip in his mouth.

He then inserted his fingers inside you, your wetness made it easier for him. Your back arched as you let out a louder moan.

His kisses became more frantic, almost desperate. Every time he moved his fingers or thrust into your depths you would squirm. A small whine left your mouth as your hips bucked upwards.

You finally pulled away since you needed to catch your breath. His fingers sent a wave of pleasure through you. “Cam,” you whimpered. His wet fingers pulled out of you and continued to massage your clit until you finally came undone.

Your whole body felt drowsy but still buzzing with excitement. When your orgasm had passed and your breathing returned to normal you rolled onto your side. “Do you want to do it again?” you asked him with a grin.

He nodded and crawled back on top of you, but before anything could escalate, the sound of jingling keys and the front door opened echoed through the house

“Fuck,” you mumbled. “My parents.” You rolled your eyes.

He chuckled, “Now I can say hi to your mom.” You rolled your eyes and pushed him off you.

[heavcnslyre]

chapter two - j.f. ( masterlist )

CRUEL SUMMER.

“fever dream high in the quiet of the night,

you know that i caught it.”

“mind setting the table for me sweetheart?” susannah asks you as you enter the kitchen, freshly changed out of your wet clothes into a swimsuit with flowy shorts and a hoodie over it. you nod and take the plates from her.

“smells good,” you comment, walking past her. “what are you making?”

“garlic parmesan pasta,” she grins. “chicken on the side, too.”

you grin. you always loved susannah’s cooking. laurel never cooked much, which you didn’t blame her for, but you really cherished susannah’s home cooked meals. every summer you made sure you spent a lot of time in the kitchen with her, eager to learn. it was also the best chance you got to bond with her. you have always known that she loves you, of course, but you could also always tell that belly was her favorite. she was the baby of the five of you, which automatically gave her more attention from the moms. also, she spent almost all of her time with them most summers, while you went and hung out with the boys. you didn’t mind, really, but it was sometimes frustrating to see how clearly they favored your little sister over you.

“everyone!” laurel yells up the stairs, “dinners ready!”

there’s a herd of footsteps as the boys come clambering down the stairs, taking their spots at the table. “where belly?” laurel asks. you look towards the glass doors facing the pool and see belly sitting outside, looking out towards the beach. “i’ll get her.”

as soon as you open the door, belly jumps and turns to you. she relaxes when she sees that it’s you and smiles. “hey.”

“hi bells,” you say. “dinners ready. you okay?”

she nods. “yeah, yeah. just thinking. you know.” she exchanges a knowing look with you, and you nod. you really did know. she was thinking about conrad. for as long as you could remember, belly had the biggest crush on conrad, and it always came into full bloom during the summer, not unlike your feelings for jeremiah. you were alike in that way, and there was always unspoken knowledge between the two of you, both of you knowing how the other felt yet rarely discussing it. the sister bond you shared made that easier.

“what’s for dinner?” belly asks, standing from her chair and breaking your train of thought. you open the door for her.

“pasta and chicken.”

“yum!”

after dinner, you excused yourself up to your bedroom to unpack and settle in. after a few hours, which somehow went from you unpacking to completely rearranging your room, there was a knock on your door. “come in!”

“what are you doing?” jeremiah asks, standing in your doorframe with an amused expression on his face. you look around your messy room then shrug.

“rearranging.”

he laughs and shakes his head at you. “you’re insane. ready for a break in your interior design?”

“only if that means it’s beach time.”

“of course that means it’s beach time,” he laughs as you immediately take off your hoodie that was covering your swimsuit and walk past him, out the door.

“let’s go then!”

jeremiah follows you down the stairs, and you smile as you pass by the moms, who were sitting on the couch with belly, watching a movie. “off to the beach?” laurel asks. you nod.

“yup! be back soon.”

susannah blows you both a kiss, “be safe!”

“we will!” you and jeremiah both call out, already out the door. a few minutes later, the two of you were sitting in the sand of the dark beach, listening to the waves crash in front of you.

“best thing and worst thing from your year, go,” jeremiah says suddenly, breaking the peaceful silence the two of you had been sharing. you consider his question for a minute before answering.

“best thing… got my license! me and belly actually went on a whole day trip to the shops that are a couple hours away, it was super fun,” you say. jeremiah grins.

“licensed! can’t wait to be a passenger princess all summer!” you laugh and shove his arm lightly.

“don’t act like you don’t have your license,” you say. “i fully except you to be driving me around all the time too.”

he nods. “maybe. worst thing, now.”

you shrug. “i don’t know. it was a pretty good year. i guess maybe breaking my wrist in the fall.”

“yeah, no shit that would suck!” jeremiah exclaims. “why didn’t you tell me you did?”

“i don’t know,” you say honestly. “i guess it just didn’t come up.”

“just didn’t come up in the hundreds of texts and facetime calls,” jeremiah shakes his head. “i see how it is.”

you laugh and so does he, then you find yourself in silence again. he was staring forward into the water but you turned your head and stared at him, picking up on every feature of his. his eyes sparkled, reflecting the moonlight. his whole face was soft, relaxed, and you loved seeing him like this. he was always putting on a show, trying to entertain the world around him, but in moments like this when it was just the two of you, he was more vulnerable. you loved it. you hate that you have to keep reminding yourself that you’re with peter now, and happy, so you can’t think of jeremiah like that anymore.

you clear your throat to break the silence. “your turn. best and worst of the year.”

“oh, that’s easy,” he says, meeting your gaze. “best was when i got moved up to varsity football this past season. got to play with connie. it was incredible.”

“jere!” you exclaim, “that’s amazing! forget my damn wrist, you could’ve told me that earlier!”

“i was kinda caught up in it,” he admits, rubbing the back of his neck. “that’s why i never really could call you during the football season. let it get to my head pretty bad, but it was okay in the end.”

“no shame in being proud of yourself for something great,” you assure him. “we just gotta get better at updating each other on the big things in our lives, not just the little random things.”

“you mean i shouldn’t just call you to tell you i saw a taylor swift lookalike at chipotle?”

“oh, no,” you say. “you totally still need to tell me that. but like, mention the other life changing things too.”

“deal,” jeremiah says, smiling as you catch his gaze. his expression was always soft when he looked at you. you would never let yourself admit it, but you had never seen him look at anyone else the same way before. you didn’t want to start thinking that, though. it would get your hopes up too much. but it didn’t even matter now. peter.

“worst thing?” you ask. he sighs.

“i guess when conrad quit the football team.”

your eyes widen. “what?! why?”

he shakes his head, suddenly defeated. his whole demeanor changed, and it was clear that this was really weighing down on him. “i don’t know. i wish i knew. he’s just been so…different, lately. we used to hang out and he was so excited for me to be on the team with him. then it’s like a flip switched. suddenly he’s so cold to me, like, always. wont even look at a football. didn’t come to a single one of my games after he quit— which was mid season, did i mention? he barely even talks to me or mom anymore. seeing you guys today was the happiest i’ve seen him in forever.”

“oh, jere,” you say softly, studying his expression. you had noticed a change in conrad today, too, but you didn’t know if it was in your head or not. he had seemed so happy around belly, or laurel, but otherwise he was more closed off than usual. you couldn’t imagine what jeremiah was feeling, having to watch his best friend drift away from him like that. “have you talked to him about it?”

he shrugs. “he won’t ever say anything. acts like nothing is wrong with him. i don’t know. i just feel terrible for mom. she’s so, lost, i guess. like, when she was sick, he was kinda the rock in the family. he’s always been the most levelheaded. losing that support…i don’t know. it’s weird. i’m trying to be better at stuff like that for her, but i’m not conrad. i can’t be as good as him.”

“that’s one thing you can’t start believing, that you’re not good enough,” you say. “you’re both just as important to your family as the other. just because he handles different things as you doesn’t mean that he’s better. with the other stuff…i don’t know, jere. he’s levelheaded, yeah, but he’s also crazy stubborn. when he’s caught up in his head about something there’s no getting him out.”

“don’t i know it,” he grumbles. then, he shakes his head and looks at you, a calmer expression on his face. “thank you, (y/n). conrad is too complicated to figure out usually. i really appreciate you listening,” he grabs your hand. “i’ve missed you so much. just talking about that makes me feel better.”

you squeeze his hand. “of course. you know you can always talk to me.”

your silence this time is broken by your phone buzzing. then buzzing again. and again. you sigh. “sorry, thought i silenced this.”

pulling out your phone, you see that the texts are from peter.

peter: (y/n) :((

peter: u promised to call me every night at 10

peter: what are u doing???

“oh shit,” you mumble, pulling your hand away from jeremiah to text back. he looks at you, concerned.

“is everything okay? who is it?”

you nod. “it’s um, peter.”

“peter?” he asks. “who’s peter?”

“my,” you hesitate, still staring at your phone. “my uh, boyfriend.”

jeremiah visibly stiffens, moving slightly away from you. “boyfriend, huh?” his tone is no longer warm. his voice is strained, and he stares out into the water. “didn’t mention that in the best thing from your year. or in any of our facetimes, or texts.”

“it’s fairly new,” you explain, still attempting to avoid looking at him. the air between you two felt weird, suddenly. less comfortable. “um, i was gonna mention it at some point tonight. i just was waiting to see how it went with him.”

“yeah.”

with that, jeremiah suddenly stands up and stretches. “i could really go for a swim,” he looks down at you, a forced smile on his face. “i am really happy for you, (y/n). c’mon, come swim.”

but he didn’t wait for you to follow him. he turned away quickly and took big steps towards the water. as soon as he was in it deep enough, he dove under a wave, staying under the water for a concerning amount of time, before coming up for air, and doing it again. you sigh. you weren’t sure what that was about, but you weren’t about to make it worse. you quickly text peter back, then turn off your phone, following jeremiah into the ocean.

you: got caught up sry call u later

[cashmeremars]

𝐦𝐚𝐝𝐫𝐢𝐝 𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦𝐬𝐜𝐚𝐩𝐞𝐬 || 𝐜.𝐬

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: carlos sainz jr x reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: you’re moving to Madrid to be closer to Carlos and on the day he picks you up from the airport, he has a suprise for you

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: established relationship, fluff

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1.5k

𝐚/𝐧: carlos is attentive (and rich)

"You’re not kidnapping me, right?”

The buzz of Carlos’ car dwindled under the breeze whistling through the rolled-down window. Soft bossa nova tunes floated around the car as you reached over to toggle the volume on the radio. Yoshitaka Minami’s voice flooded your ears as your eyes fluttered closed. You practically had complete ownership of the car radio whenever you and Carlos drove around together, and he didn’t mind at all. Carlos’ hand stroked your knee tenderly as he swivelled up and down the bustling streets of Madrid. You indulged in the smell of the fresh breeze, and the familiar musk of Carlos’ cologne. It was the fragrance of home. Your new home. 

You’d spent numerous Summers in Madrid with Carlos, but you’d always found yourself missing the comfort of your hometown, even though you didn’t really enjoy the town itself. You’d always end up so homesick while you were in Madrid, feeling lost as you yearned to go back to your mundane life, away from intruding cameras and vexing fans. Yet, when you went back home, you found yourself calling Carlos every night, expressing how much you missed him and life in Madrid. It was paradoxical, and Carlos never understood why your feelings about Madrid and your hometown were equally polarizing, but he never pried. Nonetheless, the more time you spent in Madrid, the more you felt like the lack of privacy was worth it. Madrid was beautiful; the streets, the people, the culture, it was everything your hometown had never been. So here you were, sitting in your boyfriend's Ferrari 812 Competizione, with your luggage in the trunk, and your heart in his hands. 

The car ride from the airport to Carlos’ home wasn’t long, you’d practically memorized the route yourself after travelling between the two locations so frequently. Carlos’ fingers tapped on your clothed thigh to the mellow beats of the song, causing you to turn your attention toward him. His hair had been tossed around due to the turmoil of the wind, yet it still managed to look more cloud-like than messy. It was an art form. He hummed along to the music before throwing a quick look at you.

“It’s rude to stare, querida,” Carlos chuckled, his gruff voice snapping you out of your daze.

“Not staring. Just admiring, querido,” You replied. He squeezes your thigh once before returning his hand to the steering wheel, leaving the lingering phantom of his touch.

“I missed you a lot,” Carlos spoke.

“I missed you too. Don’t worry, there will be plenty of time for you to talk about how devoted and in love with me you are once we get home,” You punctuate the sentence with a poke to his cheek, and he turns his head in an attempt to bite your finger.

“I unpacked all the boxes you sent over to the house from your hometown. I think you’re really gonna like how everything turned out.” Carlos said.

“Didn’t realize you were also a part-time interior designer,” you teased.

“I suppose I’m just good at a lot of things,” Carlos winked.

You turned your attention back toward the picturesque view painting the window. The trees and buildings blurred into a single mosaic as the car sped through the city. Carlos slowed the car down as he moved into the right lane of an intersection. You faced him with a raised eyebrow as the car turned onto the unfamiliar road. This was not the way to Carlos’ home, but he remained unfazed.

“Carlos, I think we’re going the wrong way,” you said as you leaned further into the window.

“Nope. This is the right way,” Carlos said curtly.

“Is this the long way?” You were looking right at him now.

“I guess you could say that,” He said, keeping his eyes directly on the road ahead of you.

“Carlos…” The music was being drowned out by the tumbling of thoughts in your head. The syncopated guitar couldn’t stop your brain from kicking into overdrive.

“Don’t worry, I know where we’re going,” He pokes your thigh, sensing the anxiety boiling over in your stomach. 

“We’re going home, right?” You ask.

“In a way.” The corner of Carlos’ mouth upturns.

“Carlos, seriously. You’re not kidnapping me, are you?” You half-joked. Carlos laughs at the quiver in your voice. 

“Mi amor, I’m not doing anything. Don’t worry,” Carlos reassured.

“Fine.” You gave in, calming your unnerving thoughts as you analyzed the unknown environment.

Carlos continued to drive through Madrid, stopping upon a large iron gate surrounded by meticulously sculpted trees. He pulled out his phone, typing quickly before the iron gates began to creak open. Carlos smiled at you briefly as the car started to drive forward. The driveway was decorated in yellowed cobblestone, leading up to a breathtaking statue situated at the heart of a fountain adorned with specks of moss. 

“Carlos, what are we doing here?” You whisper. 

“You’ll see. Be patient, querida.” He turns off the car engine before opening the driver-side door. Carlos opens up the passenger-side door, holding out his hand for you like the gentleman he was, even when he was being annoyingly secretive. You place your hand into Carlos’, allowing your fingers to entangle as he leads you to your luggage in the trunk of the car. He pops open the trunk, grabs your luggage for you, then smiles at you once more before leading the pair of you up the cobblestone path. 

As you walked further up the path, a regal home sat at the top of the slope. The exterior of the home was a mustard yellow with grand windows that spanned the entire height of the building. Plants and abstract furniture peeked through the openings of the windows. The home could only be described as otherworldly. 

“Carlos, can you tell me where we are now?” The home was so captivating that you hadn’t even bothered looking at Carlos as you spoke to him. 

“Cariño, remember when we were watching Architectural Digest a few months ago, and there was that one home that you said was the embodiment of your dream home? Well, I did some research and it turns out the house was located in Madrid. So I bought it. For you. For us.” Your heart plummeted to the floor of your stomach. You could almost hear the pride oozing from Carlos’ mouth. “Is that okay with you?” Your silence was causing Carlos to deflate as he searched your face for a hint of emotion 

“Cariño, please say something,” Carlos placed your luggage on the doorsteps in favour of holding your hands in his. 

“Carlos…” Your gaze shifted to his. His eyebrows were knitted together as his eyes fixated on yours.

“If you’re going to be mad at me, please do it inside. There’s a really pretty view in there,” Carlos spoke carefully, pointing toward the home. Your home. 

“Carlos, I don’t know what to say… I love it so much. I love you so much. This is, like, surreal. My brain is hardly processing this.” You sank into him, wrapping your arms around his torso as if he were about to vanish into the atmosphere. Carlos encased you in his embrace, embellishing the top of your head with never-ending kisses. 

“I mean, you bought us a house. My dream house, Carlos. I’m having a hard time believing you aren’t a literal Angel,” You spoke, lifting your head to look into his eyes.

“The only angel here is you, mi amor.” He nuzzled his nose into the side of your head, holding you tighter.

“How are you so perfect?” You felt your eyes begin to water as the weight of the moment began to settle. You’d been so hesitant to move to Madrid, but everything turned out better than you could have ever hoped, and it was all because of Carlos. He released you from his hold before he dug into his pockets in search of the house keys. Carlos pushed the front door open, and a wave of warm vanilla diffused into your lungs. You walked past the threshold of the front door together, welcoming your new environment as a unit. The interior of the home was suited perfectly to your and Carlos’ tastes. It was an undeniable incarnation of your relationship; coordinated, cozy, and inarguably quite beautiful.

“Your clothes were unpacked and placed in our shared closet, all of your instruments are in their own music room, and we’ve even got a home theatre for when our friends come over,” Carlos explains. Photos of the pair of you lined the hallway as they sat in gold picture frames. You couldn’t help but wonder how long he’d been working on this. 

“Friends? I’m not sure about that. Can’t let Pierre taint our little sanctuary.” You joked, stroking Carlos’ back. 

“Come on, Hermosa, you’ve gotta see the library we decorated for you,” He grabs your hand, pulling you down the vast hallway. 

“Library? Carlos, you’re joking…” Hummingbirds couldn’t have competed with the flutter of your heart.

“I know what my girl likes.” 

masterlist

fic recs

requests info + navi 

[leviathans-watching]

could u pls write the brothers x a reader who dropped out of school/college? having a rly hard time rn and i could use the comfort, tysm <3

having a hard time in the human realm

includes: brothers x/& gn!reader (no pronouns mentioned)

wc: .7k | rated t | m.list

warnings: crying, breakdowns, implied depression

a/n: i'm sorry you're having a hard time :(( i wish you all the best and lots of love and comfort. hope this helps! my inbox is open to chat, request, or leave feedback!

mammon exchanges worried looks with asmo when there’s no response when he knocks on the door to your apartment. it had been nearly three months since you’d returned to the human realm and since you’d first separated, you hadn’t missed a single weekly call. until tonight, that is.

and combine that with the fact that you weren’t responding to anyone, weren’t active on any social media, and now weren’t answering your door… mammon’s getting seriously concerned.

“let’s break in,” belphie says, and it’s a testament to how worried lucifer is that he agrees.

“i can pick locks, hold on,” asmo says, dropping to his knees and pulling a bobby pin out of his pocket. man, lucifer must be really worried if he’s not even remarking on this!

a moment passes, and then asmo pushes the door open, rising back to his feet. he leads the way into your apartment, and mammon takes in the dark interior. it’s messy and cluttered, a far cry from the neat and tidy room you’d kept at the house of lamentation, and it’s also silent.

lucifer takes the helm then, moving through your living room. mammon can see a dim kitchen with piled-up dishes, and then gets distracted by another door. presumably the door to your room.

mammon knocks on that one, then opens it. like the rest of the apartment, the room is dark, with thick curtains pulled over the window. mammon steps over the clothes all over the floor, towards your bed, which is messy with sheets and blankets piled up.

but thankfully, there’s a person there too. mammon puts a hand on your shoulder, grateful he can see the rise and fall of your chest. so, at least you’re still alive?

shaking you gently, mammon waits for you to wake. his brothers crowd the bed around him, but stay quiet.

with a gasp, you sit up, looking around wildly. “w-what?”

“it’s just us, mc,” beel says soothingly, and you calm slightly, then squint, confused.

“what are you doing here?”

“we were worried,” levi volunteers. “you weren’t answering your ddd and missed dour call.”

“oh,” you say slowly, probably still waking up. “that was today? i’m sorry, i’ve just been really…busy. and wait, you guys decided to break into my apartment?”

“busy?” says lucifer, dodging the accusation question. “with school?”

you look to the side shiftily, and mammon’s glad his eyes can see well enough in the dark where a human would struggle. “something like that.”

“cut the crap,” asmo says suddenly. “what’s going on, mc?”

without warning, tears well up in your eyes. “i’m sorry,” you say miserably, scrubbing at your eyes with your sleeve. “i’m sorry. i’m just so tired.”

mammon wraps an arm around your shoulders (were they always this fragile feeling?), and pulls you to his chest. “what’s wrong?”

“it’s just so hard!” you say after a breath. “i miss you guys so much. every day. it feels like a piece of me is missing. and as hard as it was to adjust to the devildom it’s even harder re-adjusting now. i miss the house of lamentation and being at rad and all of you. i can’t do this.”

“i had no idea you were feeling this way,” lucifer says quietly, guiltily. mammon feels the same way. how had he not noticed you were hurting?

“i stopped going to my classes,” you continue, a sob ripping free. “there’s no way i can get any credits for this semester. i want to go home.”

mammon locks eyes with his brothers. there’s no way they’re leaving you here tonight.

“let’s take you home, then,” he says, and you blink up at him.

“wait, really?”

“there’s no rule saying you can’t come back,” lucifer says. “i thought that’s what you wanted. after all, you were only supposed to be an exchange student after all. but if we had had any idea of how much this would have hurt you, diavolo and i would have never let you leave. so yes, let’s go home.”

leviathans-watching's work - please do not copy, repost, or claim as your own

[yoisami]

˚₊‧୨୧ I'LL GIVE YOU ALL MY LIFE, MY SEASONS...

[૮₍ ˃ࡇ˂ ₎ა]: a piece that i wanted to write for wave to earth's seasons. it's a beautiful song pls-

tags. various bllk x gn!reader, fluff, 1076 wc, messy writing -> not proofread, kaiser not in hs but let’s pretend he is :D

春; spring —

amidst the falling petals from cherry blossoms and the beginning of fleeting first loves, there's a secret between you and him that remains unspoken — you both like each other. it's undeniable — you're both head over heels into each other, but neither of you have been brave enough to step into that territory that could cost you your year-long friendship.

and today, he invited you to take a stroll around the park where the shower of petals would be. just as he predicted, you're instantly infatuated with the sight, gasping and captivated at the beauty of it all while he's standing with you, struggling to calm down his heart that's drumming against his ribcage so so aggressively. the flowers' sweetness permeated through the air, and he's left speechless when you subconsciously grabbed his hand, pulling him closer to the flowering trees.

you don't realise what how bold your action was until you looked at your hand in his. your face is burning, and as a distraction from what just happened, you sheepishly pulled out your phone, nervously taking photos of the flowers because you're so aware of the blush that's blossoming across your cheeks and ears.

and while you're capturing the pretty sight with the phone camera, he's still trying to process just how perfect your hand fit in his. he's certain that he wants this memory to stay with him forever - he wants to remember the way your lips curved upward when you thanked him for suggesting this unplanned hangout, and he definitely wants to remember the way that you looked at him — as if he meant something more than a friend to you.

— KUNIGAMI, nagi, kurona, NESS, HIORI (blue lock) ; SUGAWARA, yamaguchi, OIKAWA, kenma (haikyuu)

夏; summer —

in a hushed voice, he knocked on the shoji door as he loudly whispered your name, impatiently waiting for you to welcome him into the room you and your friends shared for the trip. there's an eager smile on his face when you opened the door for him, but you placed your index finger against your lips, reminding him to stay silent before he tiptoed his way inside and making a beeline to the doors that kept crickets from inviting themselves into the interior.

you were hesitant about a romantic rendezvous that he proposed to you at dinner time — getting caught could potentially result in you and your boyfriend getting kicked out of the premises for the the remainder of the school trip. he managed to talk you into it though, and things were going according to his plan: your friends are all asleep, and the teachers have returned to their rooms too.

you took a seat beside him out on the deck, and naturally, your hands slipped into his. he hummed contently to the breeze that the summer night has granted you two, and your head fell to his shoulder as you talked about all the best moments of your day. and he listened, like he always does, and what he promises to also do in the future. you're a bit of a pessimist — you often think he's joking, or he's simply exaggerating, but he swears since the day you both acknowledged your feelings for each other, his heart started beating only for you.

— BACHIRA, kaiser, gagamaru, ZANTETSU (blue lock) ; hinata, tanaka, NISHINOYA, KUROO, bokuto, ATSUMU (haikyuu)

秋; autumn —

the heat of summer has dissipated for the year, and he's indulging in the coolness of tonight's breath. he has your scarf draped over his arm as he's following you along the beach, and you suddenly paused. he doesn't pay much attention to how soft the sand is when you're reaching out your hand to him. perhaps autumn was not the best time to be visiting the beach (especially at night), but the sight was worth it — even if you you shivering from time to time, and he'd respond to trembling body by rubbing your hands against his to warm you up.

the salty waves crashed and the noise made by driving cars on the nearby road is loud, but he's too focused on you, and he's easily persuaded that the moonlight is the best at illuminating how beautiful your delicate features are.

and you're standing beside him, silently admiring the blanket of stars above you. while you think that the sky above is a sight for sore eyes, he tells you that you're the sight for sore eyes here. he knows it's sappy, but he's just "telling you the truth", he says.

his heart rate accelerated when your loving gaze returned to him again. with a smile, he leaned into your ear, muttering sweet nothings in hopes that your heart is beating just as fast as his. but he doesn't need to hope, because he's the reason why your face has been feeling so warm lately; he's the reason why you're failing to pay attention to the professor in your lectures; and he's the reason why your heart ached when he wasn't around. your breath hitched when his arm encircled your waist, and he guided you into his vicinity as he slowly pulls you into a fervorous kiss that now marks the first time he's proclaimed his love to you.

— ISAGI, REO, sae, yukimiya (blue lock) ; kageyama, DAICHI, iwaizumi, akaashi, ushijima (haikyuu)

冬; winter —

snow was on its way to japan, and your hands that remained cold through each season of the year were currently being kept warm by his warm ones. his hands are threaded through yours as you browsed through each shop in shibuya that peaked your interest. keeping your intertwined hands in the pocket of his coat, he's diligently following you into each store, watching you beam at the little trinkets on the shelves. when you left the store with him, he noticed how your nose has become pink from the cold, and almost instantly does he remove his scarf from his neck to wrap it around yours. there's a tender smile on his lips when he watched how adorably your eyes widened at his chivalrous act.

while your eyes shyly averted from his direction, he tilts your chin up in a swift singular motion, leaving you with no choice but to look up at his eyes that had so much love hiding behind the dilated pupils. there's a bunch of feelings stirring in your stomach — you're giddy, exhilarated, embarrassed, and he doesn't let you shy away from his touch. shibuya was constantly bustling with people, but in that moment, they were all blurring into the distance when he pressed a feather-like kiss on your hand, promising that he'll keep you warm for as long as he's able to.

— CHIGIRI, rin, otoya (blue lock) ; tsukishima, SEMI, sakusa, OSAMU, SUNA (haikyuu)

© yoisami 2023. plagiarism, translation and distribution of my works outside of tumblr is not permitted.

[esmedelacroix]

Coffee Shop Love Pt.4

pairing: miguel o'hara x f!reader

summary: He's as stern and cold as the snow falling from the sky blanketing the bustling streets of Nueva York, Miguel O'Hara stumbles upon a hidden gem of a coffee shop just around the corner from Alchemax. Only problem is the annoying-as-shit smiley-ass barista.

contents: slow burn, no use of y/n, fluffmania, implied age gap, suggestive, forced proximity

author's note: Hi lovies, :( this part is coming to you very late >.< ! The semester is ending soon and I'm an academic weapon so I've been writing papers and studying, here's the fourth chapter for y'all :) ! I suggest you read this chapter while listening to "Strangers In The Night" by Frank Sinatra on repeat it sets the perfect tone for this chapter, enjoy...

word count: 1.6k

Pt.1, Pt.2, Pt.3, Pt.4, Pt. 5, Pt.6, Pt.7, Sequel: Sweet Tooth

You both looked down at your phones in disbelief. Your thoughts raced like a thousand wild stallions, galloping through your mind at breakneck speed What do we do? Will he have to stay over? How will he react when I tell him I have one bed? He couldn't fit on the couch to save his life. You thought to yourself trying to figure out what could be done.

"So a whole day here?" Miguel asked as the shock slowly dissipated from his face.

"Yeah, well I better lock up and turn the heaters on," you said as you got up the locked the doors.

"So uh, I live upstairs," you said awkwardly.

"Okay, I live several blocks down," He joked eliciting a chuckle from you as laughter danced lightly upon Miguel's chest.

"You know what I mean, I'm inviting you into my apartment," you said pointing at the stairs as a flush crept onto your cheeks.

"I'm just pulling your leg chula," he chuckled. You both walked up the stairs to your apartment. A melange of peppermint, gingerbread, and vanilla, like Santa's North Pole workshop in an aromatic form.

The fireplace crackled merrily, festive blankets were strewn across the couch, and a tray of gingerbread cookies patiently awaited their turn in the oven. Your apartment was the epitome of Holiday cheer and warmth. The exact opposite of Miguel's place. Which was currently dark cold and empty. Not a trace of color other than the black and dark blue that his interior designer had insisted on. But was the point of a home that didn't feel like anyone was living in it? Your house was all color. Your house had memories scattered over the wall just like in the shop. Your house had lights all around, messy blankets and pillows, dishes in the sink, and baked goods sprinkled all over the dining table.

"So sorry it's a little messy," you murmured timidly.

"That's fine, it's nice," he mumbled.

You both looked at each other awkwardly before turning away. "So, I only have one bed, and there's no way you're fitting on the couch so, I could take the couch," you thought aloud.

"Well I'm not going to make you sleep on your couch," he said.

"I'm fine with sharing the bed, as long as you don't make it weird," you said.

"Well you just made it weird by thinking that I was gonna make it weird," he quipped.

"Well, well, ditto," you rebutted.

"Ditto? Double ditto," he chuckled.

"Double double ditto times a million trillion gazillion," you giggled.

You both burst into a fit of laughter. You both agreed to take turns in the shower. You lent him your brother's old clothes that he had left the last time he visited. That was how Miguel ended up sitting on your couch with a generic pair of black and red plaid pj pants. With the ugliest ugly sweater on. You plopped down next to him, straight out of the shower.

Your hair smelled like fresh candy canes. He could smell it every time it would whip around when you cracked your neck. Your skin smelled faintly like sweet gingerbread and vallina. You had an interesting selection of Christmas-themed self-care. What's the use of 'sugar cookie' lip balm? I kind of want to taste it..., ew Miguel, he thought to himself.

"So since you have to spend all night and a whole day with me, you have to understand why I love Christmas so much. We're going to watch only the best holiday movie series ever, 'A Christmas Prince,'" you said excitedly as you got up and got some holiday treats and put them on the coffee table.

"This better not be some sappy romance," he groaned.

"Oh hunny, it's all the sap, all drama, and all stupidity and miscommunication. But that's what makes them so good," you explained.

Although Miguel was sure he would hate the movie, he was more invested in it than you were. Every time you would try to talk he would shush you, "I need to see what happens next," he would whisper as he strangled you squish mellow from anticipation.

You started messing with him by talking during the movie which got him so frustrated he threw a pillow at your face playfully. But you had taken this as a declaration of battle and started a pillow fight. It was full-on warfare and giggles all around. You could tell Miguel was holding back all of his strength because he could probably actually hurt you.

You pounced on Miguel, knocking him backward onto the couch. Pillows flew in the air around you as you both tumbled, your laughter turning into shared, breathless excitement.

You found yourself on top of him, faces inches apart, heartbeats racing. Your warm breaths hit each other's face, and you both lay there, staring into each other's eyes.

Miguel's playful smile slowly softened into something deeper, something more intimate. His eyes locked with yours, and for a moment, the world outside the room ceased to exist. It was just the two of you, lost in that brief moment of connection.

Your breath caught as the intensity of the moment enveloped you. You felt a magnetic pull towards Miguel, an unspoken attraction that had been simmering beneath the surface for far too long. The air between you crackled with unspoken words, and as your eyes locked, they shared a moment of understanding, a silent promise of what could be.

But just as quickly as it had come, the moment was broken by the sound of the timer on the oven going off, signifying to the two of you that the gingerbread was ready. The laughter returned, but now it held an extra layer of tension, a newfound awareness of the connection you had just shared.

You both get up, brush yourselves off, and head to the kitchen to take the baked goods out. "Why bake more when you have a million variants of baked goods everywhere?" Miguel inquired as he helped you put the slabs of gingerbread into your fridge to cool.

"I have to test and create the entire seasonal menu before I serve it," you explain.

"That sounds tiring..." he starts.

"No! It's actually really fun! Here try this red velvet cake," she said excitedly. Miguel was waiting for another opportunity to have your baking without having to outright ask you for some, and you knew that.

He took a bite and to no one's surprise, he loved it. But he wouldn't tell you that and tried not to let it show either. The rest of the night went on without a hitch until you were both exhausted. You took a look at the clock, [2:23 am]. Your eyelids felt heavier, and you could see Miguel start to blink for a little too long while trying to watch the third Christmas Prince movie. You used all the energy left in your body to get up. "C'mon big guy, we should get to bed," you said tapping his shoulder. All you got from him was a small smirk and picked up a pillow and whipped it at his face.

"You nasty!" you started before stopping and stomping into your room. Miguel followed you into your room chuckling lowly.

The moon cast a soft glow through the bedroom window, painting the room in muted silver hues as you and Miguel settled into bed. There was an unspoken tension between you two, a tangible distance that lingered in the cool air. The bed, once a refuge for dreams, now seemed an expanse to navigate cautiously. As the night unfolded, lost in the realm of dreams, you began to shiver subtly. Miguel noticed your discomfort, remembering you telling him that you were always cold.

With hesitancy, he inched closer, the space between you shrinking with each careful movement. The distance that had felt overwhelming moments ago now seemed trivial, as if the gravitational pull of shared warmth was irresistible. Miguel's arms encircled your body, a gentle cradle against the night's chill. His body heat became a lifeline, a silent promise to ward off the cold. Nuzzling his face into the curve of your neck, he couldn't help but marvel at the vulnerability of sleep and the unspoken connection that drew them closer.

You, amid a dream, sighed with the blissful surrender of someone finding solace. As Miguel held you close, your shivers ceased, replaced by a quiet tranquility. The once-distinct boundary between them dissolved into the shared warmth of the moment. In the hushed stillness, you emitted a soft, contented snore, a sound that resonated with an endearing charm. Miguel couldn't help but smile, finding the delicate symphony of her sleep both heartwarming and irresistibly cute.

Cuddling in bed wasn’t a part of the plan but you weren’t complaining. Your sweet scent invaded Miguel's senses. You smelled just as good as the cookies you had baked. Your skin was as soft as the velvety stockings you had hanging over your fireplace. He could stay like this forever. He never made wishes but he hoped and prayed that Medusa would come to him and turn him to stone so that he would never be able to let you go. He let fatigue carry him to dreamland, your snores acting as a fleeting melody in the silent serenade of the night.

Next... Pt.5

taglist:

@iite-cool@jewelz-teehe@br0-please@amber-content@thesilenthill@d1lf-loverrr@corpsebridenightamare@laysmt@bitchystrawberrystudent

[calicough]

maybe if – hazel callahan

— maybe if she did things differently.

angst. architecture student!hazel.

hazel's hands never left the paper laid on top of her drafting table while she took a sip of her coffee. the tip of her pencil gliding and making strokes across the surface, erasing and redrawing the lines that she wasn't satisfied with, keeping in mind her professor's criticisms on her concept design. her project was "too ambitious" according to her professor, but a "refreshing idea" nonetheless. hazel understood where her professor was coming from. designing a cafe that drew inspiration from japanese, baroque, and modern architecture was bound to look... messy. she settled with a modern japanese cafe, afraid to risk her grade with her modern baroque idea.

hazel callahan was not scared to take risks. that word was never a part of her vocabulary. i mean her high school life consisted of broken noses, sore ribs, dead football players, and tiny explosives that she loved creating. but that was until you left her tear-streaked face standing by the sidewalk. the streetlights illuminated your shaking figure, head down and arms wrapped around your body. you grew smaller and smaller until hazel can no longer see you.

feeling her neck starting to cramp, she placed her pencil down and cracked her fingers before stretching her neck and her entire body to release the tension that accumulated in her muscles. she picked up her notebook that was on her bed and flipped through its pages to look back at her drafts, gathering inspiration on how the cafe's interior should look like. after stopping on a certain page, she noticed a doodle drawn at the lower left-hand corner. it was a doodle of one of your favorite characters. they were the only thing that you could draw. hazel chuckled as she gently caressed the drawing, afraid that it will disappear.

she remembers a portion of that night, a month before graduation. "hazel..." your voice wavered as you sucked in a breath. "i think it's time that we end this."

"what?" was all that she could muster out after a long silence. hearing those words felt like her heart jumped off a tall building, shattering into million pieces as it hit the ground. the tears forming in her eyes was blurring her vision of you. what did you mean by that? this has to be some kind of a joke, right? "are you serious?" she looked straight into your eyes, searching that mischievous glint that would appear whenever you're pranking her. but it wasn't there. you were actually serious.

"i don't want to pull you down with me," you told her. hazel didn't understand it back then. she thought it would be a nice surprise to let you know that she'd be enrolling in the same university as you. she thought that you'd be delighted if you learned that she rejected the offer of one of the top architectural universities in the world just because she wanted to spend her time with you and be near you. but you weren't happy. and she understands that now. she would also be angry if you didn't grab the opportunities laid out in front of you, if you didn't follow your dreams. "i don't want you to risk everything that you ever hoped for and dreamed of just for me."

hazel closed her eyes as you walked away from her and prayed that it wasn't real. that in any second, you would wake her up from this nightmare. that when she opens her eyes, you are right in front of her with that golden smile that adorns your features. as she opened her eyes, she was greeted by the walls of her dorm room. of course you weren't there.

hazel did accept the offer two days after you broke up, hoping that it'll somehow magically fix your relationship. but the damage was done and she is now staring at your doodle in her notebook. smiling to herself, she placed her notebook down on the table and returned to drawing, hoping that you're doing well wherever you are. that you're happy.

if only she had done things differently back then. maybe if she didn't outright reject the offer from the university. maybe if she took her dreams a little more seriously. maybe one day, if by some chance fate decided to bring you back together, she'll show you how much she had changed. hopefully, she'd be able to hold you in her arms and never let you go again.

aahhh!! this was inspired by the kdrama our beloved summer and the song maybe if by bibi. i rlly like the idea of architect hazel hihi she'd look so cute carrying that big blueprint tube. anyways, i hope you guys enjoyed this one! and thank you for all the love on my first work, it rlly means a lot to me :] <3

[sashiavi]

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𝚂𝚊𝚜𝚑𝚒𝙰𝚟𝚒'𝚜 𝙺𝙸𝙽𝙺𝚃𝙾𝙱𝙴𝚁

#17•𝙿𝚛𝚊𝚒𝚜𝚎 𝙺𝚒𝚗𝚔•#17

𝙳𝚒𝚕𝚞𝚌 𝚡 𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛 ʷᵒʳᵈ ᶜᵒᵘⁿᵗ ¹.⁸ᵏ

Working at the Dawn Winery was a dream. The grounds were absolutely beautiful, the staff were nice and extremely helpful. The estate was stunning, the interior decadently fitted with dark woods and ornate decorations. The Lord of the House - Archons, you couldn't even think of his name without your tummy turning. Diluc Ragnvindr, eldest son to the estate, ruler of the wine tycoon, Nobleman, swordsman, bartender and the man that had captured your heart.

It was a wonder you even landed a job like this. You were well versed in the world of the Ragnvindr's - so to speak. You were once a maid for the Knights of Favonius, seen pittering around the halls of the establishment, cleaning products in hand. You were often assigned to Captain Kaeya's office, not that he kept it messy, just there to prevent dust and grime from sneaking its way into the room. That man was the bane of your existence, always a tease, a flirt, a drunk - a pain in the ass. He somehow knew of this little crush you had on his brother, the bantering was endless. But credit to him, he put in a good word for you and one thing led to another. Here you stand at the door, uniform on, tea in hand and ready to go.

You rap your knuckles on the wooden door, knocking a short tune and entering when you hear a curt 'Come in.' Behind it reveals a study, cluttered in books, papers, a sofa to the wall and a large mahogany desk right in the middle of the room. There sits the man of the hour, Diluc. Your body works overtime to keep the silver tray in your hands steady - pull it together, he's your boss.

"The tea you requested, Sir." You struggle to make eye contact, how can a man be so pretty?

"Thank you, [Name]" He smiles politely, turning towards you and nodding a small gesture of appreciation. He knows your name. Your heart trembles, fluttering in your chest. You bow, quick to continue your maidly duties, swiftly dusting off the heavy, hardcover books that lined his study.

"Ah.. [Name]" You hear him call. Oh Archons, you did something wrong. One day in and you've ruined it. You take a big breath before turning to face him. You were a big girl. It was going to be okay.

"This tea is really lovely.. You did a good job." He toasts the air with his cup before taking a sip, returning to the mountain of paperwork sprawled over his desk. Your chest swells with pride, bubbling with all sorts of fizzley feelings. You excuse yourself from the office, off to continue your duties, not before the Young Master waves you off with a soft smile. You shut the heavy door and lean against it for a moment, nearly squealing into your feather duster, promptly coaxing a loud sneeze out of you. You hoped no one heard that.

It continues on - Your interactions with Diluc. He sends you the sweetest smiles when you bring him treats during the day, praising your baking skills when you reveal that you made them yourself.

"I ought to commission you to bake for the Tavern.. You're a great cook," He gives a side smile before biting into the sweet treat. Diluc makes a happy sound, eyes closed and head tilted as he chews. Your heart does that thing again - It makes your chest feel light, throat feel tight and your legs all wobbly.

And again - You had changed out of your working uniform, no longer clad in the pretty frilly apron provided to you. Dressed up, ready for a night on the town with your friends. Nothing too crazy, maybe a visit to the Cat's Tail to have a snuggle with some Kittens. You're halfway out of the estate when you realize you had forgotten a crucial item - Your coin purse. The way in which your eyes widen and the not-so-elegant spin you make towards the Winery would have been comical - If anyone had been watching. You hastily make your way through the Winery doors, making a beeline for where your personal belongings were stashed during the day. You find what you were looking for and make a swift exit. But not before nearly barging into your poor boss.

"Ah- [Name], oh.. You look really lovely, heading into the city?" He smiles, arms crossed against his chest. You nod and briefly tell him of your plans before excusing yourself. You were sure your face was the colour of a sunsettia. You were sure you were going to faint if this kept up.

"You look so pretty like this," Diluc muses gently, carding his fingers through your hair while you swallow around his length. Archons there it is again, that fluttery shiver in your tummy. You hear the scratch of pen upon paper above you, Diluc works through the last of his paperwork you always saw plastered over his desk. You couldn't recall how you got here, but you couldn't care. He caresses your face softly, rubbing your cheek with his thumb. He touches you so tenderly, purposely, with care and ease as if you had been lovers for an eternity already. You sigh blissfully on his thick cock, taking him sweetly down your throat, swallowing around his plushy soft tip. Your nose nestles into his pelvis, lips kissing at the base of his length.

"Gods… You're perfect.." He nearly groans, his fingers dig sweetly into the back of your neck, massaging into your hairline. You keen into him, moaning airily on his cock, swirling your tongue around his length as you take him in. His sweet praise makes your tummy swirl, you nearly beam at him, heart full and proud that you were pleasing him.

You pull back on him, suckling sweetly at the soft pink head of his cock, swirling your tongue around his velvety tip. You hear his pen clutter on to the desk above, accompanied with a short profanity. Both of his hands are on you now, holding your face and neck, cradling your head in his palm.

"Such a sweetheart.. Treating me so well.. doing such a good job." Diluc breathes. His words go to your head, they toy with your heart and make you ditzy on his cock. You pop off of his length with a soft squeeze of your lips, earning a little whine from the man above. You kiss at his cock, leaving spitty wet kisses on his velvety tip. Your eyes make contact with his, deep pools of hot lava melt into your pretty gaze. He drags his thumb across your spit swollen lips, thumbing into the corner of your mouth, pressing it sweetly against your tongue. His fingers caress your face lovingly, curling behind your ear in a soft drag. Your tummy flips and aches, dripping sweet arousal into your panties. Diluc openly sighs, a hint of his voice trickles through his throat.

"How can you be so gorgeous?" He breathes, slipping his thumb from your lips, not before you press a kiss to his finger tip. He couldn't help but lick your sweet spit off of his thumb, humming a soft groan as he wraps his lips around the wet tip of his finger. You give a sweet whimper at the sight of him, heart nearly busting out of your chest with a flutter. You kiss your lips around his flushed head, sinking back down on his aching cock. You bob your head up and down his thick length, taking him in with an earnest feeling, a strong desire to give back the sweet kindness he had shown to you.

"Gods.. Making me feel so good.. My good girl.. My [Name]" Diluc babbles, petting your hair, his praise is soft, full and swelling with adoration. His hands find their way back into your hair, threading through the strands, massaging your scalp. He humps short little thrusts into your throat, relishing in the soft vibrations of your keening moans around his length.

"Never want you to stop.. all I need is you-" His voice strains deliciously. It all goes to your head, his sweet syrupy words set your body on fire. A shiver runs down your spine, flashing and fizzing like water on hot coals, earning Diluc a sweet and pliant darling in his lap. The aforementioned man groans softly, eyes never leaving yours as you swirl your tongue up and down his thick cock.

"Getting.. getting close Darling, 'gonna… Your pretty mouth is 'gonna… Send me over the edge..!" His face burns red at his own words, ears tipped pink and lips bitten raw. You're eager to swallow him down, take him deep and prove that you are what his sweet words say. You feel his fingers tighten slightly on your hair, balling your hair into a gentle fist. His hips stutter sloppily, fucking back into your awaiting mouth with careful, soft thrusts. He babbles sweet praises as he reaches his peak, cradling your cheek, telling you just how good of a job you were doing.

"Cumming-! M'comming~!... so pretty for me.. Treating me so sweetly- ought to treat you- for your good work~" He luls his head side to side, prattling on and on in a pretty whimpery voice. His hips still, his hand pushes your head down. Diluc groans out, thumbing at your cheek as he shoots his thick, milky cum down your eager throat. He babbles again, nearly deluded from just your lips alone, spouting sweet nonsense into the air of the room.

Carefully, you come off of his cock with a sweet wet pop. He beckons you up, patting his thighs with his strong palms. He wraps his arms around you, pulling you into his lap, faces nearly touching, breath huffed and hot. He urges your arms to wrap around his neck, just as his arms cradle your waist. He kisses against your lips, capturing them in a searing, tender lock. His warm tongue licks into your mouth and he keens a soft moan, his voice vibrating on your lips. You tug at his hair and squeeze his lap with your thighs, your arousal was surely staining the front of his pants. Diluc pulls away with a heaving breath, thumbing at the soft swell of your bottom lip.

"Darling.. Pretty lips taste so sweet on my tongue… Can only imagine the rest of you.."

Your tummy flutters and spins as he pulls you back into his lips, warm and wet with spit. Working at the Dawn Winery really was a dream.

Confident Diluc thay knows what he desErves >>>> 😤

Im sorry if he's occ idc idccccc he's just <3 also I wrote this in public I am so sorry if it isn't my best work-

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Thank You For Reading! Comments Are Always Appreciated! I'll Give You A... A Kiss Mua

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[mynamesaplant]

Just a Dragon in its Den

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Just a little short story about @critterbitter's submas hc. Please go take a look at Critter's work, it is beautiful in every sense of the word. This particular story looks more into Drayden, the twins, and the tension that has built between them. This takes place right before they make it to Opelucid. Enjoy another bad phonetically written accent! One other thing to note: Kaita is called "mother" by her sons and Lucielle is "mom".

Little piece of my own hc: The particular Haxorus that helped raise Emmet and Ingo is informally known as Darling by everyone bc they heard Drayden referring to 'darling' after battles and thought it was her name.

Thank you to @ingo-ingoing-ingone for being my beta reader. I appreciate you immensely, my friend.

You can find my series of Critter inspired works on AO3.

Don't like to read on Tumblr? Find the stand alone piece here on AO3.

Enjoy!~

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 Sunlight still managed to get into his eyes even with the canvas canopy over their heads…

Ingo pried open a bleary eye, scanning from his left to his right. A moment ticked by before he flopped his head back down.

It was just him, and his waxy partner half-way fused to his sleep shirt.

He could hear his best friends talking just outside the tent flaps, the sizzling of oil in a pan which made him jerk upright. Litwick was launched as he was quick to change and get outside before they burned a hole in the tent… again.

Ingo loved Emmet and Elesa, but they couldn’t cook without supervision. They could barely cook with supervision.

“Make way!”

Emmet and Elesa jumped out of the way as Ingo barreled out from the dark interior of the tent. Quick to relinquish stove duty to his twin, Emmet shot Elesa a smug grin that she merely harrumphed at.

“Told you that would get him up.”

“You two are cruel,”  Ingo tried to say through a yawn, but it only came out as a garbled noise. However, the intention seemed to come across just fine.

“We’re not cruel! You sleep like a log!”

He ignored Elesa, groggily shifting the bacon that was just starting to spatter and hiss in distress.

You jerk! I was sleeping!

A displeased crackle and spark came from the tent flap, Litwick's wax running with the intensity of her lavender inferno.

“Apologies, Litwick. I was terrified our tent would turn to cinders if these two were manning the camp stove any longer.”

The flame atop Litwick’s head, at the moment burning high and hot, slowly began to whittle down into a manageable flicker. Ingo stooped, scooping his Pokémon up carefully, and setting her near the small propane tank that fueled the stove, the Ghost Pokémon grumbling the whole time as her eyes fluttered shut. This was a new gift. Their mother heard from Uncle Drayden that they were on their journey through Unova and she had purchased this from a camp store in Galar; in her letter she suggested that it might be useful. Camping was very big there apparently; she had seen many people using this model of stove, and she saw no issues with twelve-year-olds using flammable materials like propane.

Their mother, Kaita, rarely sent them anything and, when she did, it was usually impractical or downright dangerous. The boys had stared at the box waiting for them at the Poké Mart in Lacunosa Town, perplexed when they saw their mother’s name with the return address for a hostel in Galar. How she had even known that they were going to be in Lacunosa before heading to Opelucid was anyone’s guess, but they took the package and attempted to call the number on the postcard, stuffed in hastily judging by the torn edges and messy scrawl, but the man with a thick Galarian accent told them she had left just the other day.

Somehow that was unsurprising to Emmet and Ingo.

“So, what’s on tap for today?”

“We should reach Opelucid by noon,” Emmet said, pulling his knees to his chest as he watched Tynamo flitter around the Dwebble that had been following them since they had departed from Route 18.

The little crustacean had been tottering after them at a distance, disappearing into its shell when anyone was close, but joined in on the fun with the other Pokémon on occasion.

“That’s where Drayden works, right?”

“Correct, we will be visiting him.”

That seemed to give Elesa pause, looking from one twin to the other.

“Are you sure?” Emmet shifted, throwing a glance toward Ingo who minutely shook his head. Though the motion was subtle, Elesa didn’t fail to catch it – she was used to their rhythms and motions. For whatever reason, they were uncomfortable. “We don’t have to stop by the gym if-”

“That is very much appreciated, Elesa.”

“Yup, verrrry nice of you.”

“But everyone knows us in Opelucid. Even if we don’t go to the gym, he’ll know we’re there.”

Against her side, Elesa felt Emmet shudder and mutter something about old ladies. She wasn’t sure what that meant either, but she assumed it wasn’t good.

“What about old ladies?”

“All of the octogenarians like to sit in the plaza by the gym to read their papers, feed the Pidoves, gossip, and play chess. You must pass by them if you want to get to the Pokémon Center. They like to joke that they are Opelucid’s stalwart sentinels and they… tattle on us to uncle when we got into mischief. It is why we asked to stay in Anville Town most days.”

Ingo did not add that by that point, Drayden had stopped asking and would be gone for most of the day. It had only been when they were very young, usually following hand-in-hand in their uncle’s wake and scurrying behind his Haxorus when strangers got too close to them.

“They pinched our cheeks… Fingers like Kingler claws.”

Emmet was the one to actually answer their friend’s question, subconsciously rubbing his cheek as if it had just been pinched. After the first few times that had happened, Darling realized that the twins did not like being touched without permission, and the Dragon Pokémon would insert herself between Emmet and Ingo and the elder men and women. She would rumble out a warning when people got too close, flashing her glinting tusks despite the fact that they were covered with thick Bouffalant leather to prevent any accidents.

Only until Drayden commanded her to stop, she was aggressive with any strangers or anyone that the twins seemed uncomfortable with. At the very least, Emmet and Ingo were convinced that Darling would be happy to see them.

Breakfast was a drawn-out affair. Each bite seemed to be smaller and smaller as if to prolong the inevitable meetup. Packing up and hiking to the city was also glacially slow, Emmet and Ingo dragging their feet as they neared the dragon’s den. Elesa stopped them just as they passed the first few residences, looking them over with steely eyes that the twins shrank away from.

“We can turn back now.”

“No… We mustn’t delay any further.”

Ingo insisted, forging ahead, and chewing his bottom lip to shreds with the all-consuming anxiety that he and Emmet collectively felt.

Opelucid was an overwhelming place. It radiated an unexplainable energy that seemed to loom over all those who entered her walls. They remembered the streets well. Ingo’s eyes fixed on the place where Emmet had tripped and scraped his knee, crying and oozing blood on the whole walk back to the gym. Emmet nervously flicked his eyes to the place where a mother yelled at him and Ingo when her teenage son had been bullying them – he’d called them oblivious, creepy, unsettling… Emmet swallowed hard, reaching for Ingo’s shirt tail, and gripping it tight, rubbing his thumb over the fabric methodically.

 Ingo’s hand reached back and offered his brother’s wrist a light squeeze, trying to reassure him even if he didn’t feel so sure himself. 

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

Despite doing everything in their power, the trio could not avoid the parties of the elderly that seemed to stalk the streets of the city. There was no escape from the simpering words and the ruddy cheeks from pinching fingers, the kids barely escaped with their cheeks and dignity intact.

The doors to the gym hissed open, sounding more like an angry Zweilous bickering over a meal than the squeak from the friction of the moving belt. They moved into the atrium tentatively, the twins bunched together while Elesa stood off to one side, eyeing them worriedly as a young woman leaned over the counter. Thankfully, Emmet and Ingo didn’t recognize her, which must have meant she was new. Her accent confirmed it.

“Welcome ta the Opelucid Gym, are ya here ta challenge the gym leadah?”

“Ah, no. We, uh, we are here to see him.”

Ingo tried hard not to stammer and failed miserably, somewhat baffled by the heaviness of the Castelian accent rolling off her tongue. The young woman pursed her maroon-stained lips before turning her gaze to the computer before her. There was some clicking, some squinting between the monitor and the two boys, and she finally picked up a walkie-talkie that Emmet and Ingo knew was there.

“Mista Drayden, there are some… youts here ta see ya.”

There was a pause.

“Send them in, Audrey.”

They tried not to think about how irritated their uncle already sounded, instead choosing to focus on the awe on Elesa’s face as she looked around the gym. Her blue eyes quite nearly bulged out of her skull when they walked under winding bridges, gasped at the beautiful carvings of dragons that adorned the whole facility, and she oohed and aahed at the way the placed made the perfect mechanical maze to make every challenger prove their mettle before squaring up to the dragon master himself.

They traveled up the ramps without hesitation, Emmet and Ingo giving appropriate responses to the gym trainers who recognized them. A few of the older trainers stopped the trio, cooing over the twins who tried not to cringe at the unwanted touches and comments that only served to make them more anxious about their inevitable encounter.

The last ramp up to the arena was just ahead and Ingo took a deep breath, Emmet being the one to release – a frankly inadequate coping mechanism when faced with something like this. Before either could begin the ascent, Elesa leapt before them, and gave them an appraising look, the fierce blue tinged with a soft concern.

Her best friends did not act this way.

“Spill. What’s the matter?”

She didn’t give them a chance to look at each other as she inserted herself between them, there would be no silent agreement on how they would deflect her questions. Emmet flinched back, finding the seam of his bandana, and running over it with the flat of his thumb; Tynamo buzzed softly below his chin which was just as comforting for the young man. Ingo, the one directly under Elesa’s scrutiny, was standing firm – although, if one looked closely, they could see his knees shaking beneath the cuff of his shorts. He could feel it in his back and shoulders, so heavy from the anxiety that it was dragging him face first towards the ground like it was the planet’s gravitational pull.

There was no lying to her. She would wheedle it out of them before they took another step.

“The situation is… precarious. It has been more than a fortnight since we have spoken to Uncle.”

Elesa, nose scrunched in confusion, looked to Emmet for a translation.

“More than a month.”

Now he was fiddling with his hair, tugging and twisting his gray locks that framed his face rapidly between his spindly fingers. Tynamo offered another buzz, the tingle felt familiar and comforting.

“So? I haven’t spoken to my father in even longer.”

Behind her, Ingo pinched the bridge of his nose and exhaled slowly. The situation is not the same. Elesa wanted nothing more than to go on her journey to be away from her father. Emmet and Ingo…

“Lesa…” There was more to their story in the city of Opelucid, but neither twin had the heart to delve into it. “We should not dillydally, uncle is waiting.”

Without another word, Ingo brushed past her, and Emmet was on his heels, both practically running up the ramp, which just felt like such an odd juxtaposition to earlier this morning where they seemed intent on moving slower than Slugmas.

Elesa tried to keep a close eye on her friends as they greeted their uncle, the three of them shifting uncomfortably like the idea of a hug seemed impossible. Drayden’s face was usually hard to read thanks to the copious amount of facial hair, but there was a pinched quality to his expression.

That detail was quickly replaced with exasperation as a large, leathery Pokémon tore across the arena at a breakneck pace. Skidding to a stop just before them, the beast lunged forward and -

“Haxorus!”

Ingo spluttered, his front coated head to toe in slobber that he was wiping from his eyes. The other two kids weren’t spared from the assault, not even Blitzle, who shook out his striped coat of the sticky saliva with an indignant snort. The bubble of tension seemed to ease a little with this interruption, but it was still palpable.

Tynamo remained close to Emmet, nestled in his bandana, and offering soft nips to his jaw and chin. Litwick was doing the same, unable to conjure up witty dialogue when Ingo’s soul looked so withered and violently flickering with each interaction with his uncle. Even Blitzle, who was first and foremost Elesa’s Pokémon, was sticking close to the twins. His training as an aid Pokémon was kicking in to shove his snout into the boys’ floundering hands so they could have an outlet for their pent-up anxiety.

Elesa attempted to catalog each word, each expression, each vocal fluctuation – but they seemed so… normal? What were her friends so worried about?

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

Drayden was across the arena with Elesa and Blitzle, introducing her to his large, and very fluffy, Altaria. Emmet watched over the top of his magazine; this issue was dedicated to Dragon Pokémon found in the Alola region, and he elbowed his twin when he saw Drayden cast his gaze in their direction. Although Darling was curled around them, her tusks bound to prevent injury, Emmet and a groggy Ingo sank into her flank to make themselves as small as possible.

Darling woke up with a rumble, nudging her snout against them before lightly nibbling on their hair to put them at ease. Drayden seemed to take a deep breath as he approached, taking a seat on the bench beside them, and looking at his nephews out of the corner of his eye.

“Your friend likes Altaria.”

“Altaria is nice.”

Emmet’s reply was more like a squeak than anything. Ingo had taken interest in the skin on Darling’s neck. There it was again, the pressure on that bubble of tension becoming unbearable once again. Without Elesa there to deflect, it was like back all those years before.

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

All of them were thinking the same thing: Kaita not so quietly arguing with Drayden, the twins covering their ears because they didn’t like the shrill tone their mother’s voice had taken. The four-year-olds didn’t really understand what was happening, but they were used to the yelling.

Mom and mother had been doing it for weeks.

“I can’t handle them on my own!”

Kaita had snapped, her eyes bright and her mouth curled into an awful snarl. Drayden offered her an equally ferocious growl, too much like their draconic partners than either of them cared to admit. He and his fraternal twin never saw eye to eye, but this?

He wanted to tell Kaita that that was too fucking bad. She and Lucielle should have thought this through a little longer. Kids were not marriage savers. Now she was trying to dump them on him? No fucking way.

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

Drayden blinked hard, allowing the blessed dark to cool the bubbling anger he felt toward his sister. This was not Emmet and Ingo’s fault… He had never addressed this incident with them before, had he? Of course, they had been old enough to remember. The Dragon Master picked on their discomfort quickly and he was just as happy to leave them home than he was to take them on his hour-long commute to Opelucid.

In that moment, it occurred to Drayden just how awful that sounded. He had never really thought of his nephews as being lonely, not when they had each other. He left them at home with Darling when they were still young, but that had only been a few years. They had been abandoned by their mothers and then again by him.

This knowledge felt like bile stinging the back of his throat.

“I love you boys.”

Whatever his nephews had expected him to say, it hadn’t been that. Drayden propped his elbows on his knees, not unlike Emmet did when he was chatting with his brother and looked at them with something akin to a pleading look.

“We love you too.”

Ingo’s response was so… Mechanical. A reflex. Drayden seemed pained and they both cringed, waiting for their uncle to adopt that tone of voice they were so well acquainted with by this point – that horrible concoction of disappointment and frustration that was all too familiar to their ears.

“No, Emmet… Ingo…” He got up, stepping toward them and crouching down, Darling temporarily swinging her head around to butt her snout under his chin affectionately before resuming her doting on the twins. He hated how they shrank away, cowering like they expected him to yell – had he ever yelled at them? No, not as far as he could remember, but perhaps his silence spoke volumes about his bitterness. “Boys,” he croaked, schooling his expression into something softer (which he only just realized was something he and Ingo had in common), “I am very proud of you. I’m proud of all you’ve accomplished.

Two sets of gray eyes blinked, a staccato of confusion at this admission, as if unsure how to process that compliment.

“… Thank you.”

Ingo said, a gravelly quality to his voice that made it quieter than its typical boom. Emmet’s hand was shaking, but Drayden recognized that a precursor to a form of stimming. It was something that evolved from learning sign for Elesa for both twins; Emmet used to snap his fingers and his brother hummed (usually quite out-of-tune and loudly).

“May I join you? You look quite cozy there.”

Emmet and Ingo scooted over, leaving room between them so their uncle could sit. They were still a little confused by the unexpected behavior from him, but Drayden asked for permission to put his arms around them, and they didn’t reject him. The aversion to touch made unprompted touch nearly unbearable for all except themselves and more recently Elesa, but Drayden seeking their acceptance felt… different – it felt nice.

“Your Pokémon’ve gotten a lot stronger. I can tell these things, you know.”

Gradually, Drayden felt Emmet and Ingo relaxing into him while they told him all about their adventures. They showed off Tynamo and Litwick, the latter looking a tad smug when Drayden said she had a menacing aura.

“We also have this Dwebble… Well, perhaps that is not quite accurate. He shares the same carriage as us and travels the same tracks, however, he insists on remaining unaccompanied.”

The Pokémon in question was observing from under the bench Drayden had vacated – oh my, nearly an hour ago, those boys really knew how to fill in the time. Dwebble’s eyestalks twitched, its body cautiously retracting into its shell now that it was the center of attention.

“He is shy, yup!”

Drayden offered a nod, crooking his finger at the small, shelled Pokémon. Dwebble, body still half hidden, obeyed the unspoken command and skittered forward.

“See, he has a magnificent specimen on his back. I have not looked into the logistics of whether sediments found in or on Crustle and Dwebble affect their battling, but he has a King’s rock. It is spectacular!”

Their uncle nodded with agreement, Darling grumbling encouragingly at the smaller Pokémon with his approach.

“I must agree. He’s spectacular… Have you asked him if he’d like to join you?”

Drayden listened carefully as Ingo explained the fiasco that was Route 18 – Frillish and all - and, although he was tempted into chastising Ingo, he held his tongue about his nephew’s so-called inside voice. In fact, Ingo parroted some of the lessons that Drayden had attempted to instill in him. He was trying to work on his “volume output”. The Dwebble seemed to be quite used to them now, scraping a claw against the sole of the Gym Leader’s shoes, which inexplicably reminded him of his nephews yet again.

“Such a shame. Ingo really likes rocks, too,” Emmet said with a sympathetic shake of his head when his brother sighed much too heavily for someone of his age. Drayden’s brow was furrowed, watching as the Bug Pokémon’s eyes darted to Ingo, and he said,

“Ask him again.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Ask Dwebble to join your team. Pokémon, just like humans, can have a hard time saying what they mean. Sometimes they need help or a little nudge. He’s come this far with you, hasn’t he?”

Ingo seemed to contemplate this for a moment, they certainly had gone the distance with Dwebble at their side…

Ingo leaned forward, trying to tamp down his excitement – just in case his uncle’s instincts were off.

“Dwebble… Are you interested in... Would you join me on this journey?”

 The Pokémon blinked up at the boy, eyestalks tilting to one side and then the other. In that moment, it felt as though all the air was sucked out of the room, the anxiety unwittingly rocketing up with each second that ticked by where the Pokémon before them didn’t answer.

Dwebble raised his pincers tacked against the ground, his eyestalks swaying to a music that only he seemed to hear, only for the Pokémon to instantly shoot back into his shell when a sonic boom shattered the silence.

You better get used to the human Exploud if you wanna be a part of this team.

Litwick groused, her annoyance was mostly for show at the pure joy in her trainer’s eyes when he picked up Dwebble. Spinning around in tight circles, Ingo wasn’t even able to say anything, only a mix of laughter that verged on happy sobs, as he held his new Pokémon close to his chest.

Emmet watched on with a bright smile, happy for his brother’s first genuine catch, allowing the bright glow of the moment to not be stymied by the fact that they had no money for Pokéballs and were fresh out because they lent all theirs to Elesa to catch some Plusle and Minun on Route 6 (with no resulting captures).

“King! You shall be called King.”

How does this walking pile of rocks have a name before me!?

Litwick shrieked, batting at Ingo’s ear in aggravation to no avail. Drayden watched on, beard obscuring the placid smile on his face.

Good. It was time to make better memories here in Opelucid.

[f4ll-for-you]

Hi, could I request a modern Aemond story where him and reader went on a date, but Aemond was so shy and awkward reader thought he was not interested. A while later they meet again through mutual friends and realize they do have a lot in common and could be good together.

Thanks ♡♡

Thank you so much for this Ez, although it took a while to write, I actually love how this turned out♡ @sylas-the-grim

As always, thank you to @arcielee for beta reading and improving my writing, you are an absolute angel and I will never stop adoring you.

Until I Found You

Modern! Aemond AU

After a hideous breakup three months ago, you had finally given in to the draw of online dating. You weren’t sure if you were looking for anything serious, but you were definitely ready to have fun, or that's what your friends had told you anyway.

“Girl, you look perfect!” Baela shouted with excitement as she walked into your room. 

You’d decided on a short, smart-casual dress and a pair of heels Baela had forced upon you. Your first date with Aemond Targaryen was minutes away and you finished up your makeup, rolling your eyes at Baela’s comment with a smile. 

Aemond's profile had been minimal, to say the least, and you could send that, like you, he'd been forced into dating by friends. However, the photos drew you in instantly with his long, white hair in a messy bun, always wearing his black leather jacket. He loved to read, mainly philosophy, but you could see a couple of history books dotted in the photos too. To you, he looked perfect.

“Bae, I don’t know if I can do this,” you mumbled while picking up your phone and shoving it in your small handbag. 

“Of course you can! You are gorgeous, smart and everything a guy could want. Besides, you need to get laid, I’m sick of hearing your vibrator at 1am.” 

You went bright red as Baela giggled and slapped your shoulder. “Go, girl, go!”

A knock at the door made your heart beat out of your chest, no turning back now.

Your palms felt sweaty as you reached for the door knob, putting on your best smile as you opened the door to your apartment. 

It was an understatement to say you were blown away. Aemond was tall, a slight peek of muscle showing through his turtleneck, covered by what you now knew was his signature leather jacket. 

“Y/N?” he spoke softly, he almost seemed as nervous as you felt.

You nodded, “Aemond, hi.” you spoke, trying to seem calm. After an awkward moment of pleasantries, he led you down to his car. 

Like a gentleman, he opened the car door, making sure you were comfortable before walking over to the driver’s side. You didn't know much about cars, but you could tell this one was fancy from the dark leather interior to the sporty exterior, which gave away enough to guess that Aemond was well off.

“I thought we could go to The Grand, is that okay?” He asked nervously. 

Shit, you thought, you couldn’t afford that, it was one of the nicest restaurants in the city. “Um, yeah sure.” You’d have to dip into your savings, but Aemond seemed like a nice guy and you couldn’t blow this already.

After some pleasant small talk about the weather you were glad to arrive at the restaurant. Aemond seemed lovely, but it had started to feel like you were much more interested in him than he was you both. 

You’d both sat down at your reserved table, an air of discomfort radiating between you. Aemond fidgeted with his glass before pouring himself some water, you noticed he mentally scolded himself for not offering a drink to you first. Maybe he’s just not good at this? You thought to yourself, finding comfort in the idea that you were both just as nervous about the situation.

“So, what do you do for work?” he asked, making eye contact with you.

You spoke about your job, which you adored. It didn't necessarily pay as much as you’d like, but you were passionate about what you did, and that's what mattered most to you. Aemond adored the way your eyes lit up when you spoke about something that made you happy; the sparkle in your eyes created little fireworks in his chest. 

He fiddled with his hands under the table, trying his best to seem calm and collected. Although he’d felt infuriated with Aegon at first for setting up his online dating profile, he was pleased that it had led him to you. 

When you’d finished speaking, a blush rose to your cheeks as it dawned on you how long you’d been waffling on about your job, without reciprocating the question. Much to your surprise, Aemond didn’t seem to mind this and he listened to each word carefully, nodded at the right moments, and smiled when you made a joke. 

“What about you?” you breathed out, speaking a little too quickly. 

“Oh, uh, nothing interesting.”

Your heart dropped once again. He felt so closed off, defensive even, you couldn't understand how his reactions could fluctuate so frequently. 

“I’m going to step outside for a second before the food arrives, if you don’t mind?” 

“Oh, of course,” you responded, confused. Was he about to leave you here?

You noticed him grab a pack of cigarettes from his jacket pocket as he walked outside, the large windows at the front of the restaurant kept him in full view as you sat there alone. 

“Fuck,” Aemond cursed himself under his breath as he walked through the restaurant door; he was messing this up, every second of it. 

Truthfully, he hated smoking, but it was a habit picked from Aegon. It was something he only did when he felt stressed, and right now, he needed to calm down if he wanted to impress you. He placed himself directly in front of the window to reassure you he wasn't going to leave.

After he finished, feeling somewhat calm, he walked back into the restaurant and forced himself to talk, to seem as kind and interested as humanly possible but still failing with his attempt. You were slowly talking less and less as the date continued, a growing silence settling between you both.

Eventually, you’d both made it back to the front door of your apartment, exchanging awkward goodbyes. 

For the first time that night, Aemond made eye contact with you. He brought his hand up towards your face, Is he going to kiss me? You thought for a second, confused.

Unsure of what to do, you closed your eyes, waiting for the kiss. Moments later, you felt him tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. Embarrassed, your cheeks reddened intensely, a small ‘oh’ leaving your lips.

“Uh, see you later then,” Aemond mumbled, turning to leave before you could see his own, bright red cheeks.

You pushed open the door to your apartment to find Baela waiting excitedly on the sofa.

“How was it?” She exclaimed, not noticing your expression. 

You couldn’t even respond before running to your room. Tears filled your eyes as you crawled into your bed; you felt stupid, embarrassed and exhausted, why did you do this to yourself?

“Y/N are you ready?” Baela shouted through the apartment as you fastened your necklace. 

“Just a minute,” you shouted back, sitting on your bed with a sigh. 

Baela had forced you to accompany her to the Targaryen’s New Years event with her new boyfriend Jace. You’d been dreading it for a month now, knowing you’d quickly be abandoned by her and left to converse with a room full of elderly businessmen.

The dress code seemed to be the worst bit, black tie events were not your thing. You felt much more at home in a pair of leggings and baggy T-shirt. Tonight, Baela had dressed you in a long, navy blue satin dress, with matching silver heels. You had to admit though, you felt hot. 

“Ready,” you stood waiting in the living room, fiddling with the bracelets on your wrist for comfort.

“Y/N, you, are, stunning!” Baela practically screamed, making you laugh with embarrassment. You returned the compliment and made your way down to the car, arms interlocked.

To your surprise, Jace had sent a car to take you to the Targaryen manor, with a bottle of champagne and two glasses ready for you in the back. Giggling at the situation you both found yourselves in, Baela popped the champagne, hoping the alcohol would help you both survive the night.

After  finishing several glasses, the car stopped, indicating you’d arrived.

Walking into the manor took your breath away, with the grandeur of the old building maintenance beautifully. You felt a small pang of jealousy hit you with the thought that you would never have a life like this.

Introductions were made before you’d managed to escape to pour yourself another drink. Alcohol would be your savior tonight, especially if Aemond showed up. You’d discussed the possibility with Baela, she’d told you you didn’t have to come, but part of you needed to show yourself, to prove he did not have an effect on you. You needed to show him you were thriving, even if that wasn’t the truth. 

“Well, you look like my dream woman” you heard a voice next to you comment. Aegon's eyes met yours, of course it would be him. 

“Piss off, Aegon,” you spat rolling your eyes, a slight smile appearing under your angered expression. 

“Hey, that’s no way to talk to your new bestie,” he replied a stupid grin on his face. Since Jace and Baela had gotten together, you’d found yourself in Jace and Aegons apartment constantly, withBaela begging you to spend time as a group. However, this usually ended with you and Aegon alone, playing video games as loud as possible to drown out the slamming of Jace’s bed against the wall. 

Although Aegon frustrated you beyond belief, he’d become a good friend. You’d confided in him about your date with Aemond, to which Aegon told you he was an idiot, and that you deserved better. 

That evening, you mainly stuck by Aegon’s side, drinking and joking about the old grumpy men that surrounded you, neither of you wanting to be there. 

“Shit, incoming,” Aegon made a face and turned to face you, trying to protect you from what was about to happen. 

“Mother wants you, Aegon,” a familiar voice spoke sternly. 

“Not interested,” Aegon replied, looking at you rather than his brother. 

Aemond didn’t notice you at first, his focus on preventing his brother’s antics and making him behave. “You can leave your current obsession and-“ he began, before looking at you. 

He looked incredibly embarrassed and then angry. Were you really with Aegon now? He thought, more frustrated with himself than anything. How did he manage to let you get away, ruining any chance he might have had?

“We’re not together,” you blurted out, the alcohol loosening your lips as your cheeks burned slightly. 

“Not yet,” Aegon smirked, putting his head in the crook of your neck drunkenly. 

“Go along with it, make him jealous,” Aegon whispered into your skin as you giggled and feigned enjoyment, making a pathetic effort to push him away. 

Aemond stumbled away, his eye focused on the floor in front of him. Confusion and rage filled his chest as he made his way outside for some fresh air. 

You and Aegon spent the rest of the evening giggling together, acting as if you were a new couple. Everyone knew you were likely a quick fuck for Aegon, but you enjoyed watching Aemond glance as at you from the opposite side of the room; he was sipping whiskey with a glass held so tightly it looked as if it were about to crack. 

Without the liquor in your system, you would never have acted like this, especially at such a prestigious party. However, with Aegon’s convincing, you had to trust you knew what he was doing. 

“I promise you, Y/N, if there’s one thing I know about my brother, he wants you,” Aegon mumbled, taking another sip of whatever concoction he’d made. 

“But now he thinks I want you,” you huffed, sitting down on the plush sofa in the room Aegon had brought you to. You needed to get away from the stuffy party for a second. 

“Like that’ll stop him,” Aegon laughed, and as if by magic, you heard a knock on the door. 

“Yes!” Aegon shouted, as the door opened. 

Aemond walked in, his expression stoic and unreadable. “You’re meant to wait to be asked in, brother,” Aegon sniped. 

“I want to speak with Y/N.” 

Aegon only winked and left the room, motioning a blowjob behind Aemonds back as he closed the door. 

“Y/N I -“ Aemond began walking over to you. 

You couldn’t help but snap back, “Do you really only want me because Aegon has me now?”

“No, of course not,” he almost pleaded, his eyes growing glassy with regret. He didn’t mean any of this, he wanted to show how much he liked you, how much he cared; he didn’t mean for it to all come out now, like this.  

“I’ve wanted you since the moment I met you Y/N. You’re beautiful, intelligent, caring, passionate, everything I’ve ever wanted. I fucked it, I know, but I was scared, I didn’t deserve you, I don’t deserve you,” Aemond began to ramble, motioning his hands as he spoke, emphasising his anxieties. 

He looked down at his hands, fiddling with his signet ring. “I don’t deserve you,” he repeated quietly, “but I’ve never wanted anyone more.”

Before he knew it, you’d run towards him, throwing your arms around his neck, with the alcohol in your system giving you the confidence you’d never had last time. “Fuck you, Aemond Targaryen,” you breathed as you placed a heavy kiss on his soft lips. 

You held yourself up for a moment on your top toes before he wrapped his arms around you in return, pulling you deeper into the kiss.  He wanted you, and you wanted him, finally.

[ephedrathirsts]

Teach me

Synopsis: Your best friend asks you to take his virginity. As the both of you spend more time getting intimate with each other, you are forced to acknowledge your feelings for one another.

Contains: idiots in love trope, friends to lovers trope, lovers in denial, one-bed trope, crack and sarcasm, mutual pining, smut, fingering (reader receiving), dry-humping, fluff, afab reader, eventual angst, anger issues, allusions to surgery

Pairing: Hunter Sylvester! x afab! reader

Word count: 4900

Parts: I, II

You woke up feeling Hunter's breath tickling the back of your neck, his hand still resting firmly on top of you. You turned around to look at him as he was asleep. He looked very peaceful- a huge contrast with his usual state of being. His eyebrows were scrunched up and his mouth was slightly open. He looked cute just lying there. He pulled you closer and nuzzled into you.

  "I could feel you staring at me even in my sleep." He yawned and swallowed.

 You were caught, embarrassment flooding your head. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to wake you up." You whispered apologetically.

 "It's ok, you can make it up to me by staying like this for a little bit." You flushed. He wanted to hold you close. You were baffled but also incredibly joyful about it.

 "I can do that." You assured

  He made a clicking noise with his tongue and pecked your cheek. You were melting. The last thing you had ever imagined is Hunter being so soft and loving. I guess it is true what people say- harsh exterior, mushy interior. His hair was getting all messy as he adjusted to lay on your chest and put his arms on your sides.

 This whole course or whatever he called it was working all too well with you realizing that you might in fact have feelings for this weirdo. You couldn't keep lying to yourself anymore. Your heart was getting warmer for him by the second and the lovey-dovey act made it all the worse. You needed to snap out of it. Detach before it got fatal.

 "I think I need to go home."

 "We haven't even had breakfast yet. There is Captain Crunch in the kitchen, especially for you." He smiled

 "Oh, fuck you, asshole." You jabbed him lightly in the ribs and giggled.

 "Ouch, that hurt a lot. Don't you want to kiss it better?" He pouted, pleading to you with his eyes.

 You lowered your head to level with his ribs and kissed them over his T-shirt. Then you quickly got out of bed and got your clothes from his desk. "Ok, I gotta run now. Hope you feel better." You nudged yourself to get dressed as fast as possible and head out of the door but before you knew it he was out of bed and hugging you.

 "I'm not going to be keeping you. Just wanted to say bye." He declared as he put one loose strand of hair behind your ear.

 Your heart was in your throat. Or somewhere else entirely, you weren't sure. But all you knew was that you couldn't speak. You couldn't say anything. You tried to calm down your breathing discreetly, bit down on your tongue, and coughed up a quiet "goodbye". You let go of him and rushed out the door.

 His face dropped once you had gone. He knew he had fucked up. Maybe you wouldn't want to even see him again. He probably freaked you out with how needy he was acting but he couldn’t control it. His plan wasn’t going so great after all.

 "Fuck!" He hissed as he punched the kitchen island. "Shit, that actually did hurt. Fuck!" He snickered again, holding his fist close to his face so he could inspect it.

 "Don't break any of my furniture, kid!" His dad came into the room. "You had a rough night? Wanna talk about it..." For a moment Hunter considered it and then..

 "... I mean I get it; they always look prettier at night and in the morning... Uh... Real hags, am I right?" He tried to sound as if he empathized with his son.

 "You are talking about my best friend!" Hunter snapped.

 "Oh, she spent the night. She is a good kid. But what I said still applies. Everyone looks better at night and when you wake up you realize you made a mistake..."

 "Yeah, I get that," Hunter mumbled to himself with a pained expression. "I'm alright, I'm just gonna go down to my room."

 "Ok, kiddo. I'm gonna make bacon later, you can help yourself to a serving.." Hunter had already left.

  In the meantime, you were sprinting home, galloping even, floating through the air. But why? You felt so nice with him. There was no actual reason for you to go. You couldn't take it. All this uncertainty. All of these intrusive thoughts clouding your judgment. You couldn’t like your friend. Especially not now. Not after what you agreed to do. It is only bound to become worse for you while in the back of his mind there was probably a mental list of all of the girls he was going to bed or whatever.

You had to put your feelings aside. Your friend needed you and you promised to help. And to start making things right you needed to apologize. "I'm sorry I ran off in such a hurry. I remembered I had to look after my uncle's dog. I had a really good time last night! Next time you can pick the show :)"  

  You texted, wanting to make sure you didn't offend him in any way with your behavior, sprinkling in a little white lie to seem as not so big of an asshole.

 Hunter's phone buzzed. He saw he got a text from you. He wasn't prepared for whatever you had sent but curiosity urged him to open the message. "It's no problem. Next time we are doing it at yours and ur ordering."  He replied, a smile appearing on his face.

  Hunter came over to your house the next weekend. He made a mental note: no funny business, no overdoing it, no scaring you off. He wanted to do anything and everything with you. Go all the way, but you didn't need to know it or sense it. He shouldn't have made it obvious. "Ok, here goes nothing." He whispered to himself.

 You opened the door after hearing him knock, shivers and cold sweats running down your body. You could do this. It was just a normal hang-out with your friend. Nothing more. The two of you hadn't spent one on one time for a whole week. That's probably why you were feeling so anxious. "Hello there.." you said awkwardly."Come on in. I've ordered Chinese food and I have snacks."

 "Cool.." he smiled politely, shoving his hands into his pockets.

  "What do you want to watch.."

 "Look I'm sorry. I can't just not say anything. I know I weirded you out last time and I didn't mean to. We can stop with the lessons. I can learn the old-fashioned way." He cleared his throat

 "Hunter, you can't possibly weird me out, we've known each other for so long that there Is nothing you could do to achieve that..." You stated well-intentioned, completely lying through your teeth. "I said I was going to help you and from the beginning, you told me how you wanted it to be. You don't want it to seem fabricated, you want it to be natural, and if that's how you are around people you like then whoever gets on your rooster will be incredibly lucky." You smiled at him invitingly

 "Thank you.." he still felt a bit shy and out of place but he appreciated your words. "So we are continuing this experiment?" He asked, waiting for a confirmation.

 "As long as you want to, yes."

 "Great, that's great, yeah. It is totally going to help in the future... you know... when I like someone.."

  "Yeah, I do know." You mumbled disappointedly.

  The both of you were seated on the sofa in the living room, barely speaking to each other, not because you were so engulfed in the incredible storytelling of "Extreme Cheapskates" but because the both of you were too afraid to disturb the peace, to ruin everything. There was an uncomfortable amount of distance between you and both of you secretly wanted to break it, but you were set on restraining yourselves. Wishing that the other would be the one to make the first move or to speak up.

 "I'm gonna go get the popcorn out of the microwave. Be right back"

 "Ok, don't take too much time or you might miss the juicy part."

 "Sure, as if there is a juicy part." You welled sarcastically from the kitchen, reaching into the microwave, distractedly feeling for the hot bag of popcorn, palms first. You yelped in pain.

 "Fuck, ouch" you hissed. Hunter jumped out of his seat and hurried over to you. He looked at you with worry as you ran your hand under the kitchen sink, cold water splashing over your skin.

 "I'm ok, don't worry. Just slightly burned myself, a common mistake. Just me being clumsy." You joked but you could still see him coming closer to you to inspect your hand, drying it off with a towel and holding it caringly.

  "Do you have Band-Aids or a plaster?" He asked

  "Don't be silly, this is nothing. It's not even an actual burn. It just stung a little bit. That's all." You said reassuringly, becoming increasingly aware of his proximity. You could smell his cologne, see every little scratch on his face. As he was holding your gaze, he brought your hand to his mouth and started planting little kisses over it. You gulped. You couldn't take it. His eyes boring into yours. Into your soul even.

  He opened his mouth to speak a soft "Is that better?" but you hungrily hushed him with your lips, gripping tightly onto the fabric of his jacket.

 He kissed you back, hands on your waist, pulling you close, sensing the scent of your shampoo. He wanted you and maybe you wanted him too.

  Not letting go of each other, you led him back into the living room and pushed him down onto the sofa. You were on top of him, looking down with a sheepish smile. He reached up and cupped your face, kissing you way more confidently this time, his tongue meeting yours and playing with it. He put his hands on the small of your back, pushing you down to close the gap between you. As you broke away, he started looking at you all starstruck.

 "Do you want to go up to my room?" You asked in a hushed voice. That's all he ever wanted for as long as he could remember, but now when the possibility was so close he panicked. He wasn't ready to have you this close not knowing whether it was going to last.

 "Yeah, I do," he said as he gently kissed your neck. "But I can't…I can't do it tonight…I'm sorry." He broke away from your skin

 "Oh?" Flush set over your face. "I didn't mean... I get it if you're not ready, I just wanted more privacy... Not sure when my parents are gonna come bursting through the door. I can't have them seeing me on top of you like this."

 Fuck, that's how it sounded. I mean maybe you wanted it. You did want to actually. But you were going to let it play out slow and steady. You didn't mean to rush things.

 "Oh, ok then.. let’s go.." Hunter chuckled embarrassedly.

 "I mean, I thought you were staying over. Like when I stayed over last time. I'm sorry I made things awkward. I didn't mean to kill the mood." You fidgeted with your fingers.

  "It's ok, you didn't." He laughed softly and pecked your lips.

  Both of you went up the stairs and straight to your room. You were getting progressively hornier. Inexplicably so, right? You hushed the lighting a bit and played music from one of his playlists so he feels more at home. Then you held his hand and whispered: "Do you want to come to bed with me?"

  "Yes, positively so." He answered excitedly.

 He was such a kid. You loved him for it. Uh.. the l-word. Nope, too early for that. Time to push the thought down and not examine it ever again.

 He laid on top of you this time, stroking your hair and slowly kissing down your neck, being careful not to leave any marks. He looked down at you adoringly and played with the hem of your shirt.

  "You can take it off if you want to." You told him almost inaudibly

 A rush coursed through his body, he put his arms on your stomach and slowly started to peel it off of you when a voice echoed through the house. "Honey, we are home." Shit, cockblocks. The nation's favorites. "Come down for a moment, you need to put away all these plates if you are going to bed. You can't just leave a mess like that." Your mom shouted.

  "Coming" you answered with annoyance. "I'm sorry.." you started massaging your temples angrily

 "It's ok, I'll come down with you. It's my mess too." He grinned lovingly and you gave him an appreciative kiss in response. "Thanks"

After you were done washing the dishes and organizing them back into their respective places, the two of you went up to your room again. "I'm sorry for the interruption." You looked at him apologetically

 "It's ok, we can pick up where we left off some other time right?" He asked all hopeful and giddy.

 "Yes, of course." You went to the bathroom and undressed. Putting on one of your favorite slip dress. Maybe you weren't going to have sex tonight but you could still give him a view. Hunter peeled off his T-shirt and jeans and tucked himself in bed, sniffing your pillows before you came back in.

  "I'm sorry. It is so warm. I'm going to boil if I wear the T-shirt..." He spat out distractedly as he saw you come closer to him.

 "That's ok. I want you to be comfortable." You were holding his gaze and you could see his eyes all too obviously roaming your body. Your hair was down, the skirt of the gown ending only a couple of inches after your thighs. One of the straps had slid down your shoulders and the material of the dress was leaving pretty little to the imagination.

 Without a beat, he grabbed you by the hips and positioned you on top of him, your skirt riding up and revealing more of your skin to him. Both of your straps were slightly off your shoulders now and your breath had hitched in your throat. "Hunter.."

  "…You said you weren't ready.." you uttered as his lips came down to your neck, not so tentatively this time, not caring at all whether he left a mark. You gasped loudly at this action.

 "I can still make you feel good, right?" He said in a hushed husky tone. "What else are a guitarist’s fingers good for? Just don't make too much noise. I don't want your parents banning me from your house." He smirked and flipped you over getting on top of you. You had never wanted him more. You bit your bottom lip. You were getting so wet just by listening to him talk.

  He continued kissing and sucking on your neck and slowly touching up your thighs, scratching them, making you hiss. "May I?" He said pleading.

 "Ye-yes... Please do.."

 He was getting so fucking hard seeing you like this. But he wanted to prove himself to you. Show you how much he values your pleasure over his. He started massaging your clit, warranting a gasp or two from you. As he found the right tempo, he could see you fully letting go, gripping tightly onto his biceps. Scratching him as you did, which he loved.

 When he was sure you were wet enough, he inserted one of his fingers into you, hitting you just in the right spot. Your legs were shaking. You were nothing but a sweating, cursing mess under his touch."Fuck, Hunter, don't stop!"

  "Not planning to."He dipped his head to suck on the upper part of your breasts and added in another finger. Pumping in and out at a steady pace he started moving faster into you, making you moan. Damn all of his experience plucking strings. It felt waay too good.

 He thrusted into you faster, knowing all too well you weren't going to last much longer. He bore into your eyes. He could see you were close, you just needed a little encouragement and encouraging he was:  -"It's ok, you can let go. Come all over my fingers. I'll lick them clean later."

 That was all you needed to hear. You gripped him harder, pushing yourself up to crash into him, and bit down on his shoulder as you finished all over his hand. He continued fingering you until you came down from your high.

 He removed his fingers from you and inserted them into his mouth, savoring every little drop of you. "You taste fucking amazing." He exclaimed as he bent down to kiss your lips. Your cheeks were red and there was no hiding it.

  You held up a glass of water to him. You were mesmerized as if you were seeing him with new eyes. This was Hunter, your presumed ‘just friend’. The one who had just made you come and put you on cloud nine. After he gulped down his water he asked with a concerned expression: "Did I do well?"

 You wrapped your arms around him and kissed him gently. “Yes, you did fantastically." You smiled into his lips and he smiled too.

   The metal aficionado was extremely geeked. Reviewing his notes every day and replaying the time you had spent together in his head constantly. He was trying to be slick, but he wasn't sure how long it would take before he crumbled.

 He had fooled you. Unbeknownst to you, he had no intention of even entertaining the idea of getting with his so-called ‘groupies’. He wanted you to be his teacher because was only interested in pleasing one person- you. Studying what you desire and what puts you off.

  It probably sounded a bit scheming but he couldn't just go up to you to confess that he liked you, you know, as a normal fucking human being would. He didn't even want to fully admit it to himself. Emotions were tricky for him and so were for you. The situation wouldn't have gone anywhere if he were to breach the gap with you not returning his feelings. No, he needed a plan to make you want him too and he was willing to do anything to achieve it. That's why when you finally followed up on your next lesson, he was ecstatic.

 "I'm gonna come by your place later tonight."

  "Cool, text me when ur close." He wanted to sound nonchalant but he was freaking out. Acting like a fangirl watching fancams of one of her favorite kpop idols. He was so giddy and happy that even his father got worried.

"What the fuck is that squeaky noise coming out of your room, kid? Are you ok?"

"I'm doing amazing birth enabler! Also don't just pop in the stairway without announcing yourself. I could be wanting my privacy."

 "When you get yourself a fancy house with a pool, music studio, three bedrooms, three bathrooms, kitchen and living room by cutting and filling up tits is when you will be entitled to your privacy."

"I know you would rather be FEELING up tits instead-but if I were to properly think about doing some of that myself I would still need my fucking space, so leave! Now!"

"I'm paying your therapist way too much!"

"That's all of the precious boob money for you!" Hunter screamed annoyed, trying to sound witty while he heard a different set of footsteps down the stairs.

"I'm sorry, did I come at the wrong time? I texted you ten minutes ago and rang the doorbell but you didn't reply so I let myself in. Oh, and hello mister Sylvester."

"Well hello to you too, looks like some people your age still have manners, Hunter! Always a pleasure to have you home, darling. I wanted to say I'm sorry about your aunt… It's terrible what happened to her. You know you're basically family so if you ever want to have a breast augmentation, I can make you a deal for the implants afterward. With a chest your size, not too big to be a burden to your back but still eye-catching enough you should keep the volume so..."

 "Father, get the fuck out! And stop staring at students’ tits!"

 "Don't get ridiculous Hunter, she is like a daughter to me. I would never.. anyways I think I have some work to do. I'm gonna leave you kids to it." He replied as he not so discreetly winked at Hunter

 "Fuck... Fucking finally. I'm so sorry! He was incredibly fucking insensitive and creepy."

 "He was staring directly at my chest, like eyeing it reeal good."

 "Yeah, he is fucking disgusting. I'm so sorry."

 "It isn't your fault; you don't have to apologize for his behavior. I'm fine."

 "Do you want to come some other time; I don't want you to feel uncomfortable."

 "No, I take all of my ventures very seriously. I told you I was going to be here so here I am."

"Yeah," Hunter said self-consciously, scratching the back of his neck. He noticed how pretty you looked. You always looked pretty, but you had gone out of your way to do so this time. With your hair done, make-up on, a familiar scent of your perfume drifting through the air and the pendent Hunter had gifted you for your birthday hanging around your neck. He was entranced.

 "I don't think we should go all the way tonight. We are still testing things out, being in the beginning stages and all."

 Hunter snapped back awake from his daydream."Mhm" was all he could muster. He wanted to go and grab you, kiss you right this moment but he couldn't just do that after his father's speech. He needed to get the mood going. "Firstly, do you want to listen to some music? You can play whatever you want. Even your shitty the Weeknd knockoffs."

 "Chase Atlantic have some good songs, ok? And it's not so much about quality with them. It's about the vibe of it all. The experience. But that's a great suggestion for the occasion."

 "I don't know, they sound like try-hard vampire wannabes."

 "Yeah, that’s the beauty of it."

 You turned on the speaker and played one of your playlists. For a moment you were somewhere else, mouthing the lyrics, humming to yourself, slowly rocking your hips in tune with the music as Hunter came up behind you and turned your head so you were facing him."Good thing you're also beautiful, otherwise I would never listen to that crap." He muttered in a hushed voice.

  You mustered a barely audible "thank you" and he shushed you with his lips. It was hard to get used to. Him touching you like that, talking to you like he wasn't little old Hunter. The one you grew up with, the one you had known ever since diapers, but right now it was too hard to perceive him that way. You had already gone over the crossing line and there was no going back.

 He held your hand in his and whispered into your mouth: "Do you want to come to bed with me? I promise I won't do anything to scare you off." Batting his eyelashes, trying to look as innocent as possible.

 "Do you even know how to?" You teased, feeling him come up against you again way more assertively this time.

  His hands landed on your hips, yours entangled in his hair. His tongue slithered into your mouth, soft gasps escaping both of you. He was calculated at first, confident but measured until he got progressively hungrier for your kiss. As you started reaching for his back, pushing him closer and closer to you he deepened the kiss and began roaming your body with his hands. Your knees were getting weak just from the slightest touch. He was a virgin but that didn’t mean he wasn’t a hell of a good kisser. You started to lose balance. He prompted you up by sliding his knee between your legs. A dirty trick that was working very well in his favor.

You parted to get some air and he whispered again. "I hope not." You were flushed, all knots in your stomach and trembling pulsing sensation all over your limbs. He had turned you into jello just by kissing you and that did scare you because you didn't expect to feel this good, to want him so much.

 "Lead the way." You your heart was racing.

 Hunter grabbed your hand again and sat on top of his bed. To his surprise, you didn't sit next to him or opposite him. You made yourself comfortable in his lap, lightly grinding down on him. All of his confidence from before flew out the window. You looked at him with lust in your eyes, your lips forming a devilish smile as you scanned his face. He was getting nervous. He wanted to impress you and he loved every second of it but he wasn't expecting you to look at him the same way. He guessed you were committed to your job. He was speechless just looking at you, wanting to remember this forever.

"What are you getting so shy for, didn't you invite me here?" You grinned cockily "It's ok baby boy, I can do some of the work now. You just relax." You whispered into his lips kissing him yourself with none of the measure or sensitivity of some of your previous kisses. You were boiling from the inside. A volcano ready to erupt. You grinded on him wantingly, letting him feel the wetness seeping through your underwear as your skirt had ridden up your thighs, exposing them deliciously. He moaned in response when you pulled on his hair, nibbling and sucking on his lips and finishing him off by biting the lower one.

 You being so desperately horny for him got him so incredibly hard. He was a mess under your touch but he needed you to be one under his as well. He couldn't control it anymore. He held down your inner thighs, squeezing them hard as his fingers dug into your skin. You gasped and moaned. He began sucking on your neck, leaving purple bruises on his path. He licked and kissed your calves and upper breasts as you purred into his ear."Hunter, this feels so damn good."

 Electricity coursed through his body. He needed to have you all to himself like this forever. He gripped your hips hard, moving you on top of him faster and faster. He kissed you just like you had kissed him

before. With his lustful tongue making patterns in your mouth, sucking on your lips, and then biting you playfully. He put more and more speed in, feeling your heat press against his erection so violently. He was going to come; he couldn't contain himself but he needed you to come with him too.

 "God, you make me insane. You are so fucking hot." He hissed while bucking his hips upwards, hitting your core in the most sinful way.

 You could see he was close and you needed something to push both of you off the edge so without even thinking you whimpered into his mouth. "If you get this hard and desperate for me now, I could only imagine what you would do when you're stretching me out with your dick."

 That was the last straw. He couldn't hold on anymore. He came under you, cum bursting all over his boxers and he couldn't be happier about it. Your legs were twitching as you came a second later, a vibration coursing through your body. You closed your eyes for a moment just to open them and to remember -you just made your best friend cream his pants and you wanted to do it again and again.

 But then the sinking feeling came in. He wanted to do this as a form of practice for other girls. He was going to creep up under your skin,  get to your heart, and then use all of the moments you've spent together to please someone else. Like it didn't mean anything. And the worst part was that this was exactly what you agreed to, so why did it make you ache?

  Hunter was blissful. He was much closer to you than he had ever been before and it seemed like you were feeling this newfound closeness too, that you liked It, but this voice in the back of his head came back rushing in: "She is just following up on her promise. If she feels anything towards me right now, it's probably pity."

 You slowly untangled yourself from the metalhead, got up, and straightened up your skirt. "Well, I gotta go now. Good job today, partner.. uh student." You gave him an awkward high-five and bolted out of his room.

 Yeah, it was definitely pity.