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#and i wanted to paint something quick and messy
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THERE’S NO BETTER PRESENT THAN A FUTURE.
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applestruda · 1 year
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Local wizard does some magic
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seagull-scribbles · 1 year
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Taxidermy fingerprints, taxonomies our differences
[Part 2 here]
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brighan · 3 months
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Lohk Surge piece with Cygnus as a practice for values~ (1h 56 min)
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xochitai · 2 years
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so, dragon prince fans how are we feeling?
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helluvapoison · 3 months
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imagine leaving lipstick marks on lucifer
18+
ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ
imagine harmlessly kissing his cheek before he heads out to a meeting. you pull back and laugh to yourself. lucifer looks at you dreamily but when your giggles don’t cease he gets nervous
“what? do i have something on my face?”
“yes, actually.” you sigh out a final bubble of laughter, scanning your vanity for a wipe to clean his cheek
lucifer’s breathe hitched when he peeped in the mirror. whipping around, he snatches your hands thus stopping your hunt. his eyes are wild, he’s literally bouncing with excitement
“gimme more,” he breathes
“luci, you were supposed to leave already!”
“please? pretty please with a cherry on top? one more and-and i’ll go. yeah, just one more.” he sounded like he was trying to convince himself more than you
“you, lucifer, the king of hell,” you stepped closer and closer until he stumbled back into your vanity. he completely forgot he was holding onto you. “are gonna go to a meeting covered in lipstick?”
lucifer whined, a heavy blush erupting across his face. his fingers tightened and he swallowed thickly on nothing
“covered?” he peeped
“oh you poor thing,” you hummed, “you can’t think about anything else, can you?”
you slid your leg between his and felt the answer. with a moan, lucifer’s head dropped back but you were quick to catch and cradle it. his hat fell and rolled off the vanity onto the floor. nosing his exposed neck had him trembling in anticipation
“please?” he slurred
“this isn’t responsible, ducky.” you replied, pulling his bow tie loose and adding it to the ground’s collection
“no,” lucifer agreed breathlessly
he pathetically gripped your shirt, trying desperately not to grind against your leg
“but it’s what you want?”
you were already unbuttoning his shirt with one, adept hand
“yes.”
even though lucifer knew it was coming, his body jolted when you kissed his neck. he was always so sensitive, so responsive, so good
you gifted him loving bruises that would later peak out of his collar, and in return he sang for you. his moans and whimpers were your favorite to hear and he never failed to give you what you wanted. lucifer couldn’t stop himself from rutting against your leg as you painted him in a shade that was undeniably you
after successfully transferring the lipstick onto lucifer, you retreated. gods did he whine when you did. you pulled his hair to force his gaze towards the mirror
“look how pretty you are,” you purred in his ear, gently planting a kiss there too
out of the corner of his eye, lucifer could see the collar you gave him. it damn near drove him over the edge. his dick was painfully hard, it was a miracle he didn’t cream his pants
“gonna go to that meeting?” you teased sweetly
lucifer shook his head like you’d asked something ludicrous, “nuh-uh.”
“good,” turning his head back to you, you presented the tube of lipstick, “i wanna get messy.”
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kakiastro · 5 months
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Jupiter + the type of husband you will have
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Hey yall! It literally took me a couple of weeks to make this post because I believe I’m experiencing burnout 😫 I think I’m going to take a mini break😅anyway, I hope you had a an amazing holiday!! Today I’m going to be talking about the traits and type of husband you will have based on your Jupiter.
Jupiter traditionally rules the husband. For those who are seeking a husband or husband-like partner, Jupiter is the planet to look at.
Look at your:
1. Jupiter sign
2. Jupiter degree
3. Jupiter house placement
4. Jupiter aspects
Also look at your Jupiter persona chart for deeper details as well!
Jupiter sign and house breakdowns:
Aries/1h
- may love to wear athletic brand outfits, have tattoos, prominent forehead, may have bangs or hair just cover their forehead, thick eyebrows, strong sex appeal to them
-their bold and confident
-may work in military, law enforcement, medical field dealing with lab work(blood draws, blood disease researcher), entrepreneurship and being the boss, welding or anything dealing with metals, butcher, working in a gun store.
-could be athletic or loves the gym
-loud or outgoing
-may lack impatience and tend to be impulsive
-always on the go, they have to always be doing something
-loves hot or spicy food
-may love debates and may come off as argumentative
-risk takers, they make quick decisions based on impulse. This can can either back fire or work in their favor LoL
Taurus/ 2h
-may have Venusian look to them so curly hair, smooth skin, very pretty. They may look like they can be a model, they look good on camera. Might have a mole, birth mark or a tattoo on their neck, something about their neck stands out. They’ll have an attractive voice
-money matters such as dealing with money by working in a bank. Working in the culinary industry so owning/working in a restaurant, working for a company that deals with food. Working in real estate or in the housing industry, working the arts such as fashion, painting.
-may be stubborn and like to take their time in doing things
-loves going out to eat especially to their favorite restaurants. If food is involved, they’re going!
-very sensual, loves to wear good smelling fragrances, dressing nice. These are the type of husbands that loves to buy flowers for you just because.
-loves physical touch such as holding hands, cuddling, arm around the shoulder types.
-very charming, may have a lot of friends but only a few close ones.
-loves passion and romance
-listening to lots of music
Gemini/3h
- you may meet them through a close friend, siblings, someone close to your neighborhood, library, school, they can be a former or current classmate
- they may have a unique laugh that catches your attention, may have smile that appears mischievous, may wear glasses for reading or prescriptions, messy hair do
-loves to talk as long as it’s airy and fun
-speaking of fun, they’re down for whatever, very outgoing person.
-may have lots of friends or know lots of people
-loves to read or write books or blogs
Cancer/4h
-may have a prominent chest, moon face that’s round or crescent shape, pouty lips, big round watery eyes. They may be wearing comfy clothing
-can come from a close knit family or they are family oriented. Can be close to his mom or has motherly figures in their life.
-may prefer to be at home
-may be proud of their ancestral roots and would want that displayed in there home
-loves home cooked meals
-very private person
Leo/5h
-Leo energy has a strong aura, they give A list celebrity energy so you may noticed them right away due to that, something about there hair may stand out to you. Likes dressing and looking good
-have a lighthearted warmness to them like their ruler the Sun
-may be well known, not necessarily famous (although they could be) but they have a lot of friends or they’re known for something.
-really artistic and love the arts such as theater, entertainment, dancing. They could also work in these fields
-may be intuned into there inner child, not necessarily childish but they know how to have fun
-may love children. Work with children or children is apart of their lives.
-may be overly dramatic about certain situations in their life
Virgo/6h
-may work in the medical field or is interested in medical stuff
-daily routines are important! These are the type of husbands who have a scheduled routine everyday lol
-may be workaholics, work is important to these hubbies. Now work doesn’t always have to mean their career/job either, working around the house, doing a project, fixing a car. They’re always doing some type of work!😅
-just like Gemini, virgoes love to read as well. The difference is Virgo loves to read things that has lots of detail. They need to know the who and why while Gemini just need the overall story and they can fill in the details themselves lol
-can be critical and judgy, mostly of themselves though, they can project on others if they’re not self aware.
-health is important to them! They may read up on different dietary recipes that can improve help.
-they either love animals to a fault or run away from them. There’s no in-between 😆
-could be managers or have a lot of co-workers as friends
Libra/7h
-very elegant and put together. May wear cologne or nice smelling body wash
-very charming indidvial, know how to swoon you
-flirtyyyyyy
-don’t ask them where they want to go eat because they don’t know😫it’s best to just remember their favorite food and go from there Lol
-may be business oriented or wants to own a business
-partnership is very important to them. Libra is a people person so close relationships are ideal
-doesn’t like unfairness at all. If you’ve been mistreated, they are the type to defend you if they feel like you’re being treated unfairly. They’re very much social justice warriors
-having some sort of balance in there life is key!
- may also like fashion things
-family may also be important
Scorpio/8h
-intesnse stare. You may feel intimidated by them at first but really are sweethearts when you get to know them
-there really private people, they don’t trust others easily at all. Once you have their trust then then you have there heart forever
-power dynamics with friends, family, lover may be themes
-they have sexual appeal
-they may have strong jealous tendencies. If they are self aware and put in the work to address these feelings then they are fine not if their the crazy jealous type, that’s not good and leave
-money may also be a theme, shared finances
-loves the color black
-may work in mortuary science, funerals, graveyard, taxidermist, finances, psychology, therapy, detective, forensics
Sagittarius/9h
-may be from a different culture, city or country from you
-may work in overseas, as a judge, historian, in a church, as a pilot/airline employee , cruise ship, writer, professor
-loves traveling, may have a lot of knowledge on different cultural backgrounds
-religious or is interested in religion. They could study theology
-these people love adventures, no matter how big or small it is the adventure is. Going to target can be an adventure because they’ll make it one 😅
-love reading books especially books that educational or something that broadens their minds to different ideals and ethics
-May have some good lucking legs 🦵. They may have a history of doing track or love running/jogging
Capricorn/10h
-there may be an age gap and it doesn’t have to be a huge one. Maybe a few years older. They can also be very mature or has a lot of life experience for someone their age.
-very ambitious, they don’t climb ladders, they climb mountains and will make it to the top every time
-respect and status is important to them. It doesn’t always mean fame status but status in a “I just want people to look up to me in a respectful way.” They may be managers or bosses, they can just carry that energy as well
-they may look put together, clean clothes that matches, hair groomed. They just look like they have their life together even if it’s currently a mess😅
-they have a jawline that was crafted by the Gods 🤌🏾
-family is important to them as well! Building a solid foundation that can be passed on to the next generation is a huge thing for them. They may be the patriarch of the family
-very close with their grandparents especially grandma. If their still alive and well, You’ll probably meet their granny before their parents
Aquarius/11h
-may have started off as acquaintances, then really good friends, not thinking much about dating until feelings starts to develope
-yall could of met while on a dating app.
-this is a cute, adorable, quirky, and weird husband. They may have different interest than you but that’s what you love about them!
-these partners are the type who will give you your space if you need it, they’ll actually encourage it!
-they may know lots of people and you’ll meet lots of new people through them.
-rules? What’s that? Lol they don’t mind breaking a few if they feel the need too. These people definitely live their life by the beat of their own drum.
-may be involved with humanitarian work, tech, science, astrology
Pisces/12h
-your connection my feel “divine” or like this person was handpicked for you specifically. There’s a spiritual connection between you two. You may dream a lot about each other.
-may also be from an unknown or foreign culture or country.
-water related things may be a theme such as the beach/swimming in the ocean, taking a cruise, kayaking, yacht, traveling to a water based city like Venice, Italy
-spiritually discussions can be part of your relationship
-creativify such as singing, writing songs or filming could be careers. Also being a healer like a spiritual teacher
-you may worship the ground they walk on and put them on a pedestal. Just try to make sure you don’t wear colored glasses and see them for who they are right now and not who you want them to be
-telepathic connection
Any married people here? Does some of this describe your hubby?
I’m not married yet but when I do, I’ll reblog this and let yall know 🫡
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joonipertree · 6 months
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To show someone that you care, is a gift itself. | Sugar Daddy Bakugo Series
Where you show Katsuki what a gift can be.
Tags: Artist!reader, very self indulgent, like guys....please buy me watercolour paper instead of Versace. Watercolour paper is stupid expensive. Im also not skilled enough to actually make the gift so--
Pt 1 Pt 3
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Katsuki's birthday had been looming when the two of you started going out, like a weighted shadow. You had spent a very long stressing about what to get him with a budget that wasn't even worth a fraction of what he would buy you.
But, like gift giving was Katsuki's, it was your love language as well. And you'd gotten good at getting heart felt things for people. Admittedly, it took a lot of brainstorming and notes upon notes of what to get.
You'd always go overboard to please the people you cared about, afraid that they'll leave if you didn't cross the limits and bend over backwards for them.
Katsuki had always taken care of you, never asked for anything and your love was returned albeit in a quieter and tsundere manner. So the urge to go above and beyond didn't fester for long, knowing that your bare presence made him warmer.
Your gift idea came when he was on the ring, swift on his feet and solid in the rigidness of his body. You'd brought your sketchbook and while you wanted to keep your eyes on your boyfriend, your hands became busy with large curves and sharp flicks of your pencil that brought dark edges .
You'd made at least 20 quick gestures drawings that were more crude representations of movement for you. But with those and the feelings you trapped in your heart, you made thumbnails and chose one to draw large scale.
One where Katsuki's face was partially blocked by his arm and he gave a blow. His elbows were jagged, muscles taut and rippling. And his eyes sharp and cat like.
The charcoal pencils and sticks used to create tapered lines to create hard surfaces was 340 yen. The watercolour pallete used had messy paint splattered everywhere and its lid broken, having been with you for a good while. The coat over the charcoal was 50 yen hair spray that worked just as well as professional sprays.
It didn't cost a lot but your hands were full of care and by the end of it, you hoped that it'd be something Katsuki would at least like. The man could have the world but all you had was you.
You didn't realize that you were more than enough
Katsuki to lost his voice when you handed it to him at midnight, eyes wide as he stared at him but not him. The layers on layers of paint held emotions that he could only describe as love, meticulously hand picked and felt in strokes. He'd seen HD pictures of his fights, seen videos of them where his sweat and pores were as clear as day. The most he'd thought of them were how his form could improve or how cool he looked.
But what you made, it twisted something in his chest and stung his eyes and filled him to the brim with love so warm and overwhelming that his body wasn't big enough to hold it.
You two had been dating for 4 months, Katsuki had spent that time falling in love with you in ways he didn't think possible. He'd fall with every giggle and kiss and ramble and your face when you were concentrating. He'd never said 'I love you', hoping his actions showed it enough, still too scared to speak it in case it was met with hesitance or silence.
But Katsuki had gently put down the canvas, something you that you'd built, stretched and primed yourself. And while you made eye contact with the walls and ceiling, you explained how the only thing you could come up with was the painting, that you wanted to capture the emotions you felt when you saw him fight. That it wasn't much but---
Katsuki had engulfed you in a hug, hand on the back of your head to press it against him and an arm around your waist. He squeezed you, tried to express all that he was feeling with one hug alone. You felt it, held him tightly and carded your fingers through his hair. With his shoulders shaking, you had an inkling that he had been crying. When he spoke, with a wobbly voice, you were sure that he was.
"I love you." He'd muttered out for the first time.
"I love you more." You whispered back and Katsuki had firmly denied it, that no one could love a person as much as he loved you.
Getting a gift for you became hard after that, because Katsuki sucked at making shit.
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luveline · 6 months
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Hello! I just want to start off by saying you're an absolutely amazing writer! I've been reading your blog for two years now, I believe, or something very close to it, and I still find myself awestruck by your talent when I check your blog, which is pretty much daily!
If you're up for the prompt and if you're not too swamped with requests, could I ask for a blurb with bombshell reader x Spencer? Maybe reader makes him something really sincere and handmade? Maybe a baked good or a knitted sweater? No special occasion needed, just because he deserves it 😋
Thank you for sharing your works with us! Be well and remember to take breaks! Love you Jade!!
Thank you my love, that is so kind! Love you♡
You feel sleek walking into the office that morning. Fitted clothes steamed and pressed, hair freshly upkept at the salon the previous weekend, nails manicured, smile primly painted, you look perfect. 
But that's not what you're excited about. 
Spencer lounges cross-legged at his desk, a book in his lap, surprisingly broad shoulders hunched as he reads at a more natural pace than usual. His desk is cluttered in organised chaos, books lining the partition that separate his desk from Derek's and Emily's, strange knickknacks scattered. There's a bunch of bright squishy things from Penelope, an upside down umbrella statue lined with hair elastics, and, cutest of all, his two photo frames. One of him holding baby Henry, and one of you. You and him, of course, but mostly you in the frame, closer, smiling like you love him as you angle the camera back in a well meaning and misaligned self portrait. 
You do love him. He hasn't caught on yet, is all. 
"Spencer," you greet, hoping he won't jump. He flinches minutely and lifts his head to yours, closing the book against his hand. "Sorry, I was trying to make it so you didn't jump." 
"My fault." He rubs his eyes. "Just been reading this book for so long it's messing with me." 
The book, of which he's told you about in detail, is about a documentary, which is in turn about a bunch of dark, ever-changing rooms, hallways and tunnels from within a house. The line between what's fiction within fiction blurs, and it's actually pretty scary if he's to be believed. "I've never seen you take so long reading one book, even if it is eight hundred pages," you say teasingly, letting the handle of your handbag slip down your shoulder. 
"The point is suspense," he says, eyes following your fingers where they dive into your bag. "Which needs time to build. What are they?" 
"These are for you, handsome." 
"You already gave me a present," he says quizzically. 
His birthday was a few days ago, and he's right. "These aren't for your birthday, Spence." 
He cracks the lid off of the tupperware on side at a time like he's scared he'll ruin the sweet treats within. You've made him fresh baked shortbread biscuits dipped in dark-chocolate and topped with sparse coconut shavings. 
"What are these?" he asks.
You both know that he knows they're cookies, so you answer the unasked question instead. "I wanted to make them for you. I think you'll like them, they're a little rich but the coconut helps even it out. You don't have to try them now or anything–" 
"Can I?" he asks, lips quirked into a gentle pout. 
"Sure." You hide your nerves as he bites into one, the cookie itself breaking softly, crumbs falling into his waiting hand. "They're messy. Should've warned you." 
He puts the uneaten half back in the tupperware and places it atop his closed book on the desk. He's nodding as he stands, arms quick over your shoulders. You can hear him swallow, his voice mildly hoarse as he says, "They're so nice," he praises, clearing his throat, "I think I swallowed too fast." His laugh warms your ear. "I can't believe you made those. How long did it take you?" 
"Not that long," you say, beaming as he pulls away. "I knew you'd like them." 
"It helps that you made them." He holds your elbow. "I don't know how to say thanks." 
You raise your cheek. "Only if you want." 
He kisses your cheek. You smile like a fool and giggle much the same, reaching around his arms to nab a cookie for yourself. They'd tasted nice last night when you tried them, but they're perfect after Spencer's praise. 
"No one's ever baked something for me before," he admits, the two of you standing much too close considering the setting. "I mean, there really wasn't a reason?" 
"No, Spence. I was watching some TV last night when I started thinking about you, and I recently got that cookbook, you remember? That was one of the dessert recipes. I had to make two batches because I put too much butter in the first try and they spread flat as a nickel." 
He smiles at your misfortune. "What?" you ask. "What's funny about that?" 
"It's not funny. You made me cookies and when they went wrong you made me more. I don't know what I–" His hand flirts with your elbow, index finger moving with a mind of its own, tickling you through your thin blouse. "You're amazing." 
"You make me really happy." You look down at his hand where it draws a line. "It makes me happy to be able to do something for you." 
Spencer can evidently see you turning shy, and he's a sweetheart, so he rescues you from your timidity with a life jacket. "Is there anything you can't do?"
"Not that I've found so far, handsome. Why, did you have something in mind?" 
He makes a big and genuine laugh, grabbing two cookies and forcing one into your hand. "You have to eat your share before Emily gets here." He nudges your hand up with his. "Go on. I'm not in the mood to share with anyone but you." 
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cloudyszz · 4 months
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BE GOOD FOR ME WOULD YOU?
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BOTTOM GETO X TOP MALE READER | rough sex-ish?, overstimulation :3, semi creampie, basically reader taking his frustration out on Geto..
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You hated your job with a passion, especially your boss, but what was keeping you from quitting, was Geto your loving boyfriend Geto. He convinced you several times to keep the job because of the pay, sometimes you two had Arguments about it but you knew what he said is true at the end of the day.
You glanced your eyes away from the TV to see Geto just now waking up wearing your oversized shirt, “ hi hun how was work ” he asked sitting next to you on the sofa carefully holding your hand.
“ You know the answer “ you huffed admiring your boyfriend’s face as he held your hand. From that tone you were hesitant to continue holding his hand, you didn’t want to make Geto upset but Geto didn’t care.
His face started to become hot and red beginning to lift his shirt slowly to expose his soft pale skin, poor baby he was starting to become hard. You pulled down his underwear, slowly jerking him off rubbing the precum against his tip.
Continuing to jerk him off you could tell he was close by him attempting to move away from your hands but failing due to your hand holding the two together beneath you. You gave his thigh a quick slap telling him to move to the wall.
Feeling your body now pressed against Geto you travelled your hands down his back earning a shiver from him, leaving love bites all over him. “ please! sir- it’s mmh not enough ” He begs trying to move closer to you. “ I promise I’ll make you feel good ” you replied, kissing his neck before shoving your lube-covered fingers in his hole.
Geto couldn’t do much, he wanted to be good for you, he wanted to show you didn’t need to get angry at your job when he’s right here. Take your anger out on him instead. Rubbing your fingers against his prostate, you watched how red his cheeks became, how his legs were shaking from overstimulation waiting for your permission to let him cum.
Then wasting no time you pulled down your pants/underwear gripping onto his waist and slamming your cock into his hole. Your thrust became aggressive as it was hitting the right places inside of Geto, it was a shocker how tight his hole was squeezing around your cock.
You were destroying the man at this rate, Geto felt his belly twisting and turning looking down to see the bulge inside of him go in and out repeatedly. “Hngh- too- much”, he slurs out, hands attempting to grab onto something due to your thrusting becoming sloppy and messy. “ Doing so well f’me sweetie- ”, gasping out as your cum spread in his hole without a warning, painting his hole white.
You turned him around and gave him a nasty sloppy kiss, jerking him off as you felt the sticky fluid on your fingers.
“ I’m going call out from work tomorrow, gotta please my baby some more.. ” you whispered against his mouth getting exposed to his hot breath, slamming your cock inside him again.
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I don’t really like this 😭 but my request are open so yeah
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theemporium · 10 months
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!! could you please write something where james is arguing with someone abt something or he’s just big mad but all reader can focus on is how FINE he looks?? like the tensed jawline? the curvature of his pecs from his heavy breathing?? running his hand through his hair from frustration and his bicep bulges LMAO idk but i’m just down bad rn
no because this reminds me of hockey boys and how hot they look when they get into fights and it just makes me😵‍💫anyways thank you for requesting! i’m a whore for james potter!!🖤
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The sight shouldn’t have turned you on as much as it did.
It was nearing ten when you stumbled out of the pub, your arms wound around one of James’ as you used him as your personal crutch. The alcohol flowing through you numbed the pain of your heels but that didn’t make it any easier to walk in them. 
But you didn’t care. You were happy and buzzed and your big, handsome boyfriend was all but prepared to carry you to the club you were meeting the rest of the group at for a fun night out. 
Until someone all but shoved past you, their shoulder knocking against yours and making you stumble, though James’ quick reflexes saved you from busting your ass on the cobblestone floor. However, you laughed it off, not letting it ruin your mood as you held onto James and made a move to keep walking.
But James stopped you, his hands dropping to your waist to give you a soft squeeze and make sure you were okay before he turned to the man who barged past you. 
“Oi, dickhead! What the fuck was that?”
Now, somewhere in the back of your head, there was a voice telling you that you should intervene. You should pull James back and calm him down, reassure him that it was no big deal and that you were fine and it wasn’t worth the hassle. You should have stopped it before it escalated, before it broke out into something more serious and someone walking past on the street called the police.
You should have.
But you didn’t want to.
Instead, you stood there, still a little tipsy and buzzed, and you couldn’t help but admire how hot your boyfriend looked when he was angry. The muscles in his jaw that jumped and ticked every time he clenched his jaw, the way his broad shoulders tensed under his tight shirt and his biceps flexed with each clench of his fists. The angry little pout on his face and the crease between his brows that you just wanted to smooth out and kiss. 
Your boyfriend was a big guy, towering over the man with at least five or so inches in height. Add in his broad profile and the fact you knew he was fucking strong, you couldn’t help but let your mind wander. 
Imagining pulling him away from the man and the busy streets and into a quiet alleyway. Imagining pulling his face down to meet yours in a messy, sloppy kiss and you begged him to take his anger out on you instead. Imagining him hoisting you up with ease and fucking you against the brick wall withhout even breaking a sweat, pounding into you as you whined and moaned his name and scratched your nails down his back. Imagining the bruises he would leave on your skin as a memory of the way he manhandled you.
You hadn’t even realised the argument had ended before James was standing in front of you, frustrated and pissed off and running a hand through his messy curls. You bit down on your lower lip, watching him as you squeezed your thighs together.
“Are you okay?” he asked, the concern in his voice making his face soften as he cupped your face, glancing over you once again.
But you shook your head.
James’ frowned, and some of that anger returned. “What? What’s wrong? What hurts? Did he hurt you? Did—”
But you shook your head again.
Confusion painted over his expression, his thumbs brushing across your cheekbones. “What’s wrong, baby?”
“I need you,” you whispered, your hands resting against his stomach and you felt his abs clench beneath the fabric of his shirt. “Need you so bad, Jamie.”
His brows raised slightly at the tone of your voice, recognising it instantly and something like a smirk grew on his lips. “Yeah? My princess needs me?”
You nodded. “Please.”
“Well, since you asked so nicely,” he murmured as he leaned down, his lips brushing yours but not enough to consider it a kiss. You let out a whine and he only grinned wider in response. “Gotta be patient, baby.”
“James—” you started.
“Can’t fuck you here, princess, not when anyone can see how pretty my girl looks when she comes,” he murmured, his voice a little more stern this time. “You can wait.”
You gulped, nodding.
“Atta girl,” he grinned before wrapping his arm around you, ready to head back to your shared apartment instead of the club you were meant to meet the others at.
“What about—”
“They can enjoy a night without us,” James grunted, his eyes darkening as he took in the glazed look in your expression. “I have my princess to take care of.”
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duckieflix · 10 months
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♡ ୨`kusuo saiki`୧
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☆ ⸝⸝  "i thought you coming here was a one time thing", she raised an eyebrow. "just make my coffee."
kusuo saiki x reader
warnings: swearing, toritsuka.
monthly allowance. something saiki had very little trouble obtaining but had almost too much trouble trying to spend. usually he would buy a cup or two of coffee jelly but unfortunately the store had sold out. they said they would receive their next shipment in a week, but he don't feel like waiting that long.
saiki searched online for cafes that sold affordable coffee jelly and stumbled across a store that looked appealing. joyous day cafe. it had just opened up a few weeks ago and had already become a hit, they sold cutesy deserts and of course, coffee. now, he doesn't usually approach populated areas such as this one, however their coffee jelly had amazing reviews and was even sold for an even better price.
the place was, surprisingly, not as busy as saiki initially thought. the exterior was made of brick, painted an off white colour. there was pink and white striped shades above the windows and the sign was small and hung on the wall. saiki debated on whether to enter not, it was still pretty early in the day which meant it could still get busy over time. he would have turned away then and there but as he turned on his heel a familiar face peered down at him.
"oh hey buddy!", nendo grinned down at the pink haired boy who internally grimaced at his presence. he should’ve just waited for the next shipment to get to the stores. “you goin’ in? let’s go together!”
saiki was about to shake his head but was stopped by another voice that added to his demise, “saiki? you’re here?” teruhashi. great.
all he wanted to do was taste this coffee jelly and go home. but of course, fate had different plans. soon he was joined by kaido, hairo, yumehara and toritsuka. this coffee jelly better be worth it.
once they finally entered the cafe, they sat at a large booth that had soft pink seats. saiki was stationed between nendo and hairo, he was thankful the seats were large enough for at least a small amount of space to be between each person.
a waitress walked up to them, a small smile on her face. she adorned a white button up shirt, black mini skirt with a frilly apron over it and black mary janes with frilly socks. her h/c hair was in a messy low bun and she held a pen and notepad in her hands. everyone immediately recognised her, it was y/n l/n from their class.
“oh! hey guys, fancy seeing you here!”, she smiled her eyes scanned the table and beamed at the familiar faces.
now surprisingly, saiki didn’t mind y/n’s existence as much as the others. only because y/n didn’t put in too much effort into being around him. she was very casual and didn’t smother him with unwanted attention like everyone else, for that he was thankful. their interactions were short, nothing more than a quick hello or a quick conversation about whatever was going on in class but it only lasted a few words.
“what can i get you guys?” y/n clicked her pen.
everyone began ordering, they all ordered the most popular or random dishes. bear shaped tarts, paw print waffles, galaxy tea? it was all so bizarre.
of course, saiki ordered his simple serving of coffee jelly. however, another item on the menu caught his eye. it was called the psychic special. obviously it was just a fun name but he couldn’t help but feel intrigued by the name. the small description stated it was a latte that had a random choice of latte art, if you guessed what the latte art was, you’d get your order half off.
y/n simply nodded and said she’d be back with their orders. toritska’s eyes wandered a little too far down for saiki’s liking, his gaze grazing against the back of y/n’s thighs. "who knew l/n was such a hottie? with legs like that she should be model!". these thoughts irritated saiki so, with enough force to inflict pain, yet not too much as to cause a scene, saiki kicked the purple headed male’s shin. when he yelped in pain, saiki smirked.
"perv"
the group began to babble about the cafe’s interior and admired the many cutesy decorations splattered everywhere. meanwhile, saiki had taken notice of a glass case that had a variety of hot steaming treats aligned neatly next to each other. it was right next to the register and also next to the machine that made the coffee, which happened to be where y/n was.
“hey saiki,” she smiled, “i saved you a small booth over by the corner, thought you’d want some peace and quiet away from that bunch” she pointed over to the group of teens that had suddenly started an arm wrestling match. currently, nendo was on a winning streak.
“you’re an angel in disguise, l/n” saiki nodded at her with his usual stoic expression.
“just doing my job!” y/n gave him a thumbs up before her expression turned quizzical, “what’s up with you coming here? not that i mind, just doesn’t seem like a saiki kinda place”
saiki continued to look at the treats through the shiny glass, “me being here is a one time thing, don’t get used to seeing my face.”
y/n just wordlessly nodded with a smile as he hobbled over to the booth that she saved. it was in a plant covered corner, there was a bookshelf to the left and a window to the right. it only had two chairs, one was occupied by saiki and the other was vacant. in between was a brown circle table. perfect.
a few minutes passed before y/n approached saiki with his order on a circular tray. a glass with a small white ribbon looped around the stem sat neatly in front saiki, the brown gelatin dish smiled up at him, a swirl of whipped cream sat atop the dessert. y/n placed a mug with a small umbrella like cover over the top that saiki assumed contained his 'psychic special'.
"now as you probably guessed, if you guess the latte art, you get your entire order for half of the original price" she slid the tray underneath her arm as she awaited saiki's response.
now obviously this was just a fun game that some people would play, a game of chance. except, this little game was nothing to saiki, being psychic and all, this was just way too easy.
"its a heart" he bluntly stated.
y/n lifted the cover to reveal indeed, it was a heart. she smiled at him warmly, "you're one of the first customers to get that right, good job saiki" she left his table after explaining she would be back with his bill. at this point, the cafe might as well be a restaurant.
when she left, saiki couldn't help but look at her longingly as she walked away. she was definitely one of the more tolerable ones, he couldn't believe he actually enjoyed her presence.
scooping up a chunk of the coffee jelly, he plopped the serving into his mouth and nearly melted at the taste. it was just the right amount of sweet and bitter, the cream made the jelly smoother than regular jelly. it was like heaven!
"holy shit"
after saiki had paid for his order, he waved goodbye to y/n.
"see you at school saiki! thanks for stopping by!" she saved at him, it was a miracle she didn't see the obvious flush of his cheeks. then again, saiki probably cooled himself down before anything could make an appearance.
"buddy! where were you?! we were so worried!" oh.
saiki had been so caught up in enjoying his meal that he forgot about the problems that awaited him. they seemed to have been standing outside waiting for his arrival, how dedicated. they all expressed their worry for his sudden disappearance which made his once amazing mood slightly falter.
they all started down the bricked path, saiki taking one final glance at the cafe. he looked at the building longingly, a strange warm feeling pooling inside of him. he had never felt something like this before, best to not do anything about it.
the bell that hung on the door frame rung throughout the mostly empty cafe, alerting the h/c haired girl behind the counter.
“welcome to joyous day, how may i-“ she stopped herself “saiki?”
our pink protagonist smiled fondly at y/n, something that was never seen. he adorned a pale blue polo shirt and black jeans. something casual yet classy for his visit.
“i’ll get what i ordered last time please” saiki pointed at his usual order on the small menu board, earning a skeptical look from the girl opposite him. she simply nodded.
she started to prepare the hot drink, although her eyes never left the psychic. her cheeks glowed at him, her heart rate picking up slightly. she never took him for the kind of person to become a regular at this establishment, she took him for a simplistic guy. not that she was complaining, if he was here a lot more she’d actually look forward to coming to work. unbeknownst to her, kusuo was feeling something similar.
“i thought you coming here was a one time thing?” she raised a brow.
“just make my coffee”
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bratzforchris · 3 months
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Hello! Would you be okay with writing a fix about Johnnie dating a famous singer and they make an appearance on one of his videos/streams just for something cute? Thank you I hope you’re doing well!
Can't Help Falling In Love
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Summary: A Saturday morning stream turns into a mini concert for you and Johnnie
Pairing: Johnnie x feminine and singer!reader
Warnings: Tooth rooting fluff None!
Word Count: 776
A/N: Thank you for the request! Also, this is my favorite picture of Johnnie ever OOO WAH AH AH AH AH
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“Fucking hell! What the fuck?”
You chuckled as you listened to Johnnie cursing at the computer from his streaming room upstairs. You were in the kitchen, pouring yourself a cup of coffee and enjoying the rainy morning. You’d been in the studio late last night, recording tracks for your upcoming album. You had wanted to stay in bed with your boyfriend all morning, sleeping the day away, but Johnnie had promised his followers that he would stream this morning, and you knew you couldn’t take him away from his career. 
And so, you shot him a quick ‘Can I join?’ text, both because you missed your lover and because you were curious to see what in the world he was yelling about. Johnnie texted you back almost immediately, telling you to come on up. Even though you were in your pajamas, you practically raced up the stairs. You loved being involved in Johnnie’s streams, mostly because you two would either play silly games, or either making one of Johnnie’s video essays and laughing at the crazy people.
“Hey babe!” he exclaimed as soon as you opened the door. 
The chat immediately exploded when you came into the frame. You chuckled, smiling and sitting down on your boyfriend’s lap as you kissed his cheek. The fans immediately in ‘AWWWWW’ and things of that nature. You were very lucky in the sense that both your and Johnnie’s fans were extremely supportive of your relationship and you didn’t have to hide it on social media or from the paparazzi. 
“When does the new album come out, Y/N?” You read aloud. “That, my friend, is a secret.” You giggled. 
Johnnie blushed, kissing your cheek. “They adore you.”
“I adore you,” You snaked your hand around the nape of Johnnie’s neck, kissing him softly. “Now, what the hell were you screaming about?” You laughed. 
“This fucking game,” Johnnie gestured towards his computer, where some kind of horror game was pulled up. “It’s rigged.”
“I’m sure it is.” You hummed sarcastically, cuddling into his chest. 
Your boyfriend eyed the chat as it raced with cute, supportive things for you two and gifts flooded the screen until one comment caught his eye. 
“Do a duet,” he read. “Well, you guys have to ask Y/N if she’s up to singing. She was in the studio late last night.”
You let the fans go crazy for a moment before speaking. “I think that would be fun.” You giggled. 
You stood up off Johnnie’s lap, allowing him to grab his iconic painted card guitar. Since Johnnie’s guitar would be in his lap, you pulled another chair into the frame, sitting down into it and smiling. Even though you were in a messy bun and no makeup with Jack Skellington pants and Johnnie was also in pajamas, you knew the following clips would probably go viral. You didn’t mind, though. You loved this boy with your whole heart, and this was love in its purest form. Just you two, the people that supported you, and your shared love of music. 
“Should we sing our song for them?” Johnnie asked, sitting down in his streaming chair once again and tuning his guitar softly. 
You nodded happily as Johnnie began to softly strum the chords to ‘Can’t Help Falling In Love’. As you began to sing, everything else faded away, and it was just you and Johnnie, looking into each other’s eyes as he played and you sang. 
“Cause I can’t help falling in love with you,” You hit a high note as he strummed the last chord and then happily smiled. “There you go, guys. I hope you enjoyed that.”
Despite being an extremely famous singer, your cheeks were still flushed red when singing for the chat, but as soon as you saw the outpouring of love, all the embarrassment faded away. You loved Johnnie, he loved you, and the fans were happy for you both. The screen filled with gifts from viewers again, and you moved into Johnnie’s lap, kissing him softly and sensually. 
“Well guys, I hate to end the stream, but I gotta go hang out with my girl. Maybe I can convince her to make waffles.” Johnnie chuckled. 
“You don’t need to convince me. I’ll be waiting downstairs.” You stood up off Johnnie’s lap and pecked his cheek, waving goodbye to the stream. 
Your heart was practically exploding with love for your boyfriend as you wandered to the kitchen, but you couldn’t say that you were mad about it. if anything, it would make great content for your next album, and Johnnie couldn’t say he would be mad about being your muse.
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bubbles-for-all-of-us · 6 months
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I request anything and everything Xaden Riorson please, fluffy or smutty or both! 🥰🥰🥰
Late night hours
It was late and Xaden knew that he shouldn't be dragging his feet through the quiet corridors but there was not a single part of him that cared anymore. His head was pounding and oddly enough his muscles ached. Riding never tired him out so much beforehand. But then the past couple of days had been filled with endless patrol. The first years weren't fit enough to help so the fourth years had to do double the work and if you added training and classes on top of that...
You're fusing like a baby. Sgaeyl spoke in Xaden's mind, sounding utterly unimpressed. She was in a mood too. Tairn had to stay back to train, meaning the two mates had to separate, and well, that was a receipt for a broody dragon. Xaden let out a breath of relief as he finally reached the floor his room was set. Starting to undo his flying leathers. The corridor echoed with his heavy footsteps. You'll wake the girl, you idiot. Sgaeyl snared and that was enough to make Xaden slow his pace and calculate his movements.
The thought of you had been the only thing keeping him up right in the saddle today. The only thing that made him want to come back. Xaden carefully unlocked the door, pushing it open. And all it took was one look for all the frustration to come to an end. The corners of his lips turned upwards on their own. Here you were. Sprawled out beneath his black sheets. Clinging to his pillow as you softly snored. Xaden never thought he could love something so simple so much but watching you sleep had turned out to be one of his favorite things to do when his mind grew busy.
He moved to sit at the side of the bed, fingers reaching out to you desperately as he carefully pushed some of the loose pieces of your hair away from your face. The scent of it. Light almonds and caramel filling Xaden sense. You're down bad, boy, Sgaeyl endearingly pureed in Xaden's head. Yet Xaden still rolled his eyes, Says you who fussed all day about breaking laws so you could snuggle with your man, Xaden bit back. He heard his dragon let out a huff as if she was trying to deny it but they both knew that Xaden's words struck true.
"Hey", a quiet, sleepy voice made Xaden look down instantly. Your tired eyes watched him, the biggest smile painting your lips, "You're late. What time is it?", you frowned slightly, turning to look for the clock but Xaden beat you to it, "Past four".
You let out a gasp, shuffling to sit up, earning a growl from Xaden because he didn't want you to chase your sleep away. You needed to rest. "Did something happen? Why did it take so long", your eyes looked his whole body over. Light frown settling on your face. "I'm not hurt", Xaden said as his hand slipped under the blanket so he could run his hand over your bare thigh, "One of the riders got lost in the storm. I had to find him". You hummed at his words, leaning closer to him. The warmth of your fingers soothed all the aches in Xaden's body almost immediately.
"Go, take a shower", you muttered, leaning in to kiss his lips softly. It was too short. Too quick. But when Xaden leaned in once more you pushed away, "Darling, I love you but you stink", you giggled softly, making Xaden's head hang low as he too let out a chuckle. "You won't make an exception for me?", he questioned, pressing down on your thigh more firmly. But you shook your head, "I don't let stinky boys into my bed", Xaden huffed, "It's my bed, princess". You rolled your eyes at his words and Xaden quietly caught your face in his much bigger palm, crashing his lips to yours. It was messy. There was nothing sweet to it. He needed it like air. Like a lighthouse to guide him back home. You returned it with just as much passion because you knew that he needed it and when you broke apart the look in Xaden's eyes was less haunted.
He doubted he spent longer than ten minutes in his shower. Enough time to scrub off the grime but he had no desire to stand there when nothing warmed him more than having you in his arms. When Xaden stepped back into his room he, however, was met with you neatly folding his clothes. His sleeping pants already rested on the side of the bed. But that wasn't the only thing that Xaden's eyes fell upon. There was a full mean, steaming on the bedside table. "Where did you get that from?", he questioned as he dropped the towel, reaching for his pants. "I had a feeling you would come late with an empty stomach", you only hummed in return, ushering him to the plate. "Who told you I haven't eaten?", he tore the side of the bread off, nearly moaning at the taste. "You suck at taking care of yourself", you said simply, leaning against his back. That she is not wrong about a whisper. Get out of my head, Xaden growled in return. "Let me guess, Sgaeyl agrees", you chuckled slightly. "Don't start, sometimes I think she even scowls at me the same way you do", Xaden breathed, earning yet another laugh from you.
The silence fell after that and only when the plates were clean did Xaden mutter, "We're skipping today's classes". You watched him with big eyes, "Who said that?", "I did, they start in three hours and I..", he stopped mid-sentence to stand up before scooping you up in his arms, "Need you in our bed". You let out a giggle. "It doesn't work like that", you chuckled as the soft duvet hugged your body. "I'm your wing leader aren't I? So, that's an order", Xaden crawled onto your body, plopping down on your chest. Arms wrapping around your middle as he settled between your legs. "You didn't just pull rank on me, Riorson", you shook your head, fingers moving to brush through his hair, earning a hum from Xaden. "I did and you love it", he said lazily, eyes already closed as he listened to your heartbeat. You leaned over to kiss his forehead a couple of times before closing your eyes as well.
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harmonysanreads · 1 month
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hello <3
wishing you freedom and happiness from academic hell before diving in. you opened requests so 👉👈
forgive me if this counts as idea stealing since you posted about it but yan! neuvillette with a darling who wants to file for divorce would be such a messy situation. court proceedings go to him now that the oratrice is no longer functioning. how do you expect to win against the law of the land?
filing divorce in a different land also isn't an option, because it is written in your marriage contract that you cannot leave fontaine without your husband and he sure as hell isn't going to come with you for something like this
oh well.
Jeux de Vagues
Yandere!Neuvillette x Reader
cw(s): yandere, implications of forced marriage, slight dehumanization, manipulation, fontaine archon quest act one spoilers, old married couple bickering (literally)
wc : 3k
hiii zuri!! i have been brainrotting this fic since version 4.0 so thank you so much for just giving me the opportunity to unleash it lol. for plot reasons this takes place between act 1 and 2. i dedicate this fic to all the anons who brain-rotted with me and kept me motivated to think about neuvillette with their creative asks <3 btw you get a 🍪 if you can recognize where the title comes from :>
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“Husband, I wish for a divorce.”
In Spring, the snow of the bygone winter thaws and raises the tides. They twirl to the edges of the shores ; push and pull, back and forth, mesmerizing the nation of Hydro with their temptatious dance. You wonder what it'd take to entice the waves to your direction, to have the power to make them rage and placate. When one desires to control something great, they see its reflection upon mundane things — just as you envision yourself dictating the tides upon cups of dainty porcelain, noon to evening and midnight to dawn — your spoon conducts its rhythm.
In Summer, the waters boil and vaporize upon the touch of sunlight to reach the heavens and complete the cycle. Just as wisps of steaming tea tantalize their way upwards from cups and tea pots. Beyond that translucent veil stares back a pair of watchful eyes, undecipherable are their emotions and primordial their age.
“The tides of time heed no one's orders or pleas. Very well, mon trésor, let us begin this trial.”
You're quick to catch the hint and slow to react, deliberate and relaxed as you bring the rim of the cup to your lips. The tea scathes your lips and paints your tongue bitter, bitter, bitter — a smile stretches across your tingling lips, deeming the liquid's taste adequate to your present temperament. You are bitter, not because of the contents of this ‘trial’ but, due to the delay of it. You've been crossing days after days from heaps of calendars, preparing all your accusations and aligning evidence to back up your claims for this chance only comes once every fin de siècle.
“I heard your justice machine broke?” a ‘clang’ accompanies the tea cup meeting the saucer. You focus on the chirping of birds and the noises of crystal flies buzzing past instead of the possible damage done by your words. You hear it, the swell of rising waves before they pacify with a purposeful cough. You don't let the event’s lamentable duration plunder your motivation, more precisely, you take it as a good start.
“Calling it broken is quite the stretch. You and I both know that the Oratrice Mechanique d’Analyse Cardinale—”
You swat a hand and the waves placate completely, sans any questions or any other brewing feelings. “I'm quite aware of what it's called, husband.” ‘I just could not care less’ goes unsaid.
You point your finger towards the Iudex of Fontaine, “You,” then return it back to yourself, “and I, both know the purpose of me bringing that incident up in our private trial.”
No amount of sensory loss would render someone ignorant of the mockery of your words. You bite the inside of your cheek in a lazy attempt to suppress a smirk, times like this really make you regret not having the privilege to face off against Neuvillette in the Court of this land ; you're quite sure your most recent stunt would earn you many bewildered gasps. If only the gates of your husband's manor crashed down, perhaps incapacitating him in the process for good measure.
“...Yes, we do. Your intention is to insinuate the impending prophecy and learn how we plan to prevent or battle it.”
Neuvillette's words resemble velvet in the manner they roll off his tongue, you catch his gaze drifting towards the chalice to his left, from where his reflection returns his stare. There are many tales passed among melusins of the equanimity practiced by your husband in even the most dire situations. But you have seen the depths of the ocean, where its secrets are forever concealed by an ever stretching darkness.
“Correct,” you affirm.
“Unfortunately, mon trésor, our investigations have not yet reached a decisive conclusion. While I can guarantee you that we'll do our utmost in the face of the prophecy, I cannot yet give you the specific details. Besides, this information is quite... arbitrary to our ‘trial’.”
The ocean returns your scrutiny, threatening to yank your breath away to that unknown darkness. You watch the ripples along its surface, wondering and devising plots to uproot the ocean's schemes from your safe space. You want to tear through that ataraxia and illuminate those depths for all to see its hideous secrets — so that your claims will no longer be deemed senseless.
“Well, you could try acting the part of the Iudex first.” you exhibit great interest in your nails.
“Apologies, mon trésor. The trial is now in session.”
The most preposterous trial there ever was, in fact ; spectated by cups of tea and plates of desserts, overlooked by the jury of birds and bees under the naked skies and one stubborn ‘judge’ to lay down the final verdict — who was also the accused in question. It'd be more fitting to call this some courtroom version of playing house and you wonder if Neuvillette sees it as exactly this ; since the notion of normal matrimonial life flies past his head.
You swallow your profound irritation at his nonchalance and that prickling soft gaze, the calm of the ocean surface is just a facade, you remind yourself.
“O honorable Chief Justice of Fontaine, riddle me of what I must do with my husband. He sees fit to cage me down while preaching justice simultaneously and allows me not to indulge in ‘rudimentary interactions’ with any other life forms. Do you not think that such hypocrisy is utterly ridiculous?”
Your hand cradles your heart, fully embracing the spirit of a mistreated spouse. Neuvillette regards it with an almost comical graveness, nodding as though he understands. Had it not been for the situation, you would've marveled at how willingly he's playing along with this fiasco.
A gloved hand stretches out to you in suggestion, “Perhaps it's because your husband just worries too much for your well-being?”
Your right eye twitches, “I’ve made it acutely obvious to him that I'm far from a toddler in need of constant supervision.”
The Iudex smiles succinctly, “I’m sure that he's not ignorant of that fact. But if, as you say, your husband guards you with such determination that you're not allowed to interact with any other forms of living organisms besides himself, it means that you hold great value to him.”
You cross your arms petulantly, it's not that you're forbidden from talking with everyone, many of Neuvillette's most trusted melusines do come to add flickers of color to your otherwise bleak existence sporadically. You're grateful for their kindness and brief companionship but, this small leeway does not outweigh the rest of your husband's misdeeds. Your eyes flicker to the patient eyes of the man separated by one small oak table, barely suppressing a scowl at his serene composure.
You despise it when he acts like the raw image of propriety, of an ideal husband ; so withdrawn from the covetous creature that he actually is — because it poses you as a lunatic, a lunatic who demands separation from what the rest of society perceives as perfection and debilitates all of your claims. The more you think about it, the more frustrated you get — you don't want to let frustration consume you, you don't want to lose this one opportunity for freedom. Your nails dig into the sleeves of your apparel as your mind scrambles to search for more accusations.
Why did you want a divorce again?
You control your erratic breaths forcefully, “Well, I don't feel safe in Fontaine anymore. A deadly prophecy is at our door and with no solution in sight. I'd much prefer to relocate to someplace with less volatile weather, like Liyue or Mondstadt.”
Neuvillette tilts his head, “Ah, you want to go on a vacation, am I correct? To be honest, I've been entertaining the thought of traveling to the other nations with you by my side for quite a while. Though, things being the way as they're now, that is not possible. I can promise you that after everything has been settled, we will go on a journey together, mon trésor.”
This time you don't bother to conceal your disbelief, of course he focuses on the part that most serves him and twists the narrative to further enrich his fantasies! You bite your tongue from yelling that you don't want a vacation, you want freedom from these suffocating high walls of marble. You don't just want freedom from Neuvillette, you want freedom from this cursed nation and it's solely Neuvillette's fault you were unable to do so with your kin five hundred years ago.
“Fontaine will face diplomatic and political consequences soon. Because you threw that Harbinger of Sumeru—”
“Sneznaya, mon trésor.”
“—I know that. My point is that we might face backlash from the Fatui in our vulnerable state and who knows? Fontaine might just collapse as a nation! I don't want to stay in a city like this.”
You freeze at the sigh that escapes Neuvillette's lips, you've been probing and digging for a normal human reaction from this man for a while, but at the instance that he actually gives it, you cannot help but find it jarring.
“Fontaine will not collapse from something as trivial as diplomatic pressure from the Fatui. Even though the prophecy looms above our heads, there are many factions that are actively working towards prevention. And even if Fontaine were to be drowned tomorrow, I have faith that not all of the citizens will be dissolved and you would always be my first priority. As for that Sneznayan Harbinger… we've merely followed the Court's protocols. If we did indeed convict him of crimes he did not commit, we'll most certainly compensate him to the fullest extent allowed by the law.”
For a transient eternity, all that echoed throughout the garden of the Chief Justice were the chirping of birds. Your mind carefully assesses the words from moments ago, searching for even a modicum of dishonesty. You watch the Iudex's unfettered gaze, at last giving a glimpse of the tumults raging beneath the pretentious still surface. You can hear the swelling of waves again, albeit not for the purpose to engulf but, with the determination to protect.
You'd recognize that look on Neuvillette's face even in your (unlikely) deathbed, the causation of your bafflement though is that, this is the first time you've seen it appear in correlation to something other than yourself. Your right hand idly smoothes your garbs and your left grips the wooden handle of your seat, you find both of your palms drenched in sweat upon contact.
“You’ve gone soft, ______”
You blankly admit in your semi-dazed state and it's Neuvillette's turn to take a deep breath. It's been a while since you've spoken that name aloud, the one that is only permitted to be uttered by you in private ambiances such as this and which serves as the origin for this clandestine marriage. For some reason you cannot quite comprehend — especially since your husband does not seem to suffer from it — your memory enjoys having a love-hate relationship with you. From what you recall at this instance, the last time you called the Iudex by his true name was when he gifted you this garden. Its utterance is so rare that even the bearer is rendered speechless each time.
Neuvillette copies your previous antics and pastes it onto the current situation with a prolonged look-over of your person, “Your apparel today suits you most exquisitely, mon trésor.”
You answer with a gracious eye-roll, “Don’t change the subject.”
The Chief Justice of Fontaine straightens his posture with a somewhat bashful chuckle, the afternoon sun's soft hues make the ivory strands of his hair sparkle. “Apologies, I've been meaning to compliment your appearance, not that it is ever short of radiant — I just could not find a suitable opening.”
You submit to the urge to slouch ever so slightly with a sigh, “You don't have to apologize for every little thing, you know?”
“Apologi—” Neuvillette corrects himself with a cough concealed by his fist, you watch with intrigue as soft coral dusts his pale cheeks, “As for your ‘question’, I will admit that throughout my coexistence with humans as Fontaine's Iudex, I've come to appreciate their ideals, characteristics and interpersonal relationships. In a way, I've understood myself to a great extent through observing them. Just as you wished I would.”
You furrow your brows in genuine confusion, “What do you mean?”
Your husband seems to steel himself for something, hands intertwined atop the oak table and eyes drained from his earlier playful light all too quickly. “You’ve always wished to become human. To view this world through the eyes of a mortal, to be able to have a taste of their myriad and complex relationships and... to die alongside someone you truly love.”
Somewhere in the crevices of your archaic mind, there's a vacuum hidden beneath the symphony of sea waves. Unchanging, uncharted and unperturbed by your attempts to identify what used to occupy that space. Neuvillette's cryptic admission creates a crack on what you assumed to be an empty spot occupied by white noise, the cleft dents your memories and spreads, a raucous scream threatens to rupture your eardrums.
“Are you, perhaps,” your fingers clasp onto the silk of your garb, “insinuating that you've granted me my ‘wish’?”
If you had gathered the strength to look up, you would've been blessed with the sight of the Iudex thrown off-guard. But the lapse in composure is short lived, “Of course.”
Something about his easy confirmation annihilates your decorum and replaces it with a rage of unknown origin, “So you think imprisoning me has made me happy? That it's made me feel human? That your kindness and preachings of justice have bewitched me so much that I've considered you as a lover for even a second? No, no and no! I have never and will never stop hating you, ______!”
But why do you hate him? Your thoughts echo back to you ; he's ensured you never have to ask for a meal, he's clothed you, he's provided a solid roof above your head and he's given you his heart — or at least that's what he says. For not once does a memory that he's mistreated you arise in your head but, what does bubble in your heart is an inexplicable hatred. A hatred so grave that it motivates you to not surrender to this unfair trial, contemptuous waves swell, rise to heights unseen, crash down—
“Do not forget that abandoned property belongs to whoever finds it first.”
And drag everything to the ocean's dark depths.
A jolt shakes your whole body, your eyes rise to meet the tempest in disbelief and suddenly, the dam shatters. Now you can see the serpent leering behind the charming flower, an unrestricted view of what the fair and ideal Iudex is inside those glimmering garbs of honor — a dragon with manicured claws and perfumed scales, seated to a chair of judgement yet, forever guilty of a sin he refuses to purge.
Only you remember that Neuvillette wasn't always like this ; in days not noted down in history he'd been an enigma, unsure of the significance of his existence, burning with contempt for the so-called Usurpers and sometimes cruel. But at least, he wasn't a hypocrite. He'd dug his talons deep into your heart and skin and engraved his name within your soul, he'd defiled the waters that construct your being with hatred and malice but at least, he hadn't refused to acknowledge that it was him who shackled you to this godforsaken nation, separated from the rest of your kin.
Neuvillette takes a deep breath upon noticing your erratic trembling, the tsunami recedes. “It always ends like this,”
It does. This excuse of a trial with your freedom as the wager, born of your husband's ironic belief of justice, that you should still be given a chance to speak up against iniquity. He'll take great note of any other issues that might cause you distress, but the actual concern will never be addressed — that's how it's been for five centuries. It is the kind of judge that Neuvillette has become in matters that concern you, finding loopholes to keep you attached to his name yet hidden from prying eyes ; all because of his principle that having a public personal relationship will bring the impartiality of the judiciary system to question.
“However, it must be done to ensure your safety.” you tense as he rises from his seat, gloved fingers trace the silk table cloth.
The grass crunches beneath his heel, “For who knows what the public's reaction would be if it was to be leaked, that the Iudex Neuvillette's spouse was the progenitor of the prophecy?”
You feel the familiar texture of Neuvillette's glove supporting your face, wiping the cascading tears that escaped without your notice. “Do you not remember, mon trésor, that you need me?”
Your vision blurs and all you see is blue, his blue or yours, your mind refuses to confirm. But what it does corroborate are Neuvillette's words, that you would not survive without his care, that you are the first who had wished to become human and that you are the first sinner.
You feel his touch more firmly this time, it's not warm like all the other times ; but soothing and sedating. As though, a cavity within your soul was given meaning and a portion of your memories hidden away. Your eyes are defeated against the temptation of slumber, but before the darkness engulfs you, you vividly hear the rumbling of an ensuing storm, the first of many tears of the sky hitting your skin.
“I suppose this must be my punishment. But, I would rather prefer being the recipient of your scorn and contempt than to not have you at all.”
But why go through such lengths? Neuvillette's conscience asks as he takes your limp body in his arms, the sound of heavy rain follows his footsteps back towards your shared ‘home’.
To this, he consoles himself : the words unspoken are the flower.
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Trivia for Jeux de Vagues
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risriswrites · 1 year
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Just Roommates
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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!”
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