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#i know this is cringe you don’t have to tell me
its-rach-writes · 2 days
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No Goodbyes - Spencer Reid
Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader
Summary: When you manage to escape from an unsub, the BAU come to visit you in hospital. Set in season three.
Warnings: mentions of abduction, fluff, little bit of angst, swearing, Spencer being adorable.
A/N: Damn, do I love writing for Spencer Reid! Hope you guys enjoy this and please let me know what you think! Also I forgot to mention that requests are open! I love you all xxx
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The darkness crowded around you as the ropes dug into your wrists, you were too weak to try and escape, you were too wounded to survive out in the wild anyway. You weren’t sure how long you had been here for but you were going to die here. The realisation that you were going to die made you gather your last remaining strength, you had a family who loved you, you were going to see them again.
The ropes were easier to escape from than you realised, maybe you had frayed them in the earlier days of your abduction when you were fighting tooth and nail to escape. You felt around in the dark for the door and you gave it a tentative pull when you found it. Whoever had abducted you had left it unlocked, they must have been confident you wouldn’t escape from the ropes.
As soon as you were outside in the fresh air, you ran like the wind. It was pitch black outside but you ran the opposite direction of where you had been kept. It sounded like you were getting close to a road but you couldn’t think too much more on it as your legs gave out and darkness overtook you once more.
You winced as you sat up in the hospital bed, turning your attention away from the TV and looked into the hallway. New people had arrived and they were talking to the cops, you knew what they were talking about, but you wouldn’t budge. A pretty blonde woman caught your eye and she gave you a sweet smile. Your lips twitched but made no further movement as you turned back to the TV.
“Hi,” you heard a soft voice and you turned back to the doorway to see a tall lanky man standing in the doorway, “I’m Spencer,” you knew he was with the cops but his voice was soft and his lips were curved into a kind smile. He didn’t cringe and look away from you when he saw the bloodied bandages.
“Y/N,” you winced and tried to reach your glass of water on the side.
“Let me,” he sat in the chair at your side and lifted the glass.
Your cheeks flushed as you sipped the water from the straw, “thanks, I’m not an invalid, just want you to know that,” you laughed.
He smiled, “oh, I know. I in fact, think you’re really brave.”
You scoffed, “I know what you’re doing by the way. You want me to tell you about my abduction.”
Spencer shook his head, “I’m not going to force you into something you don’t want to do, Y/N. But, I know it’s been a while since you’ve seen a friendly face.”
You sighed and glanced over to the doorway where the cops were listening. Spencer abruptly stood from his seat and closed the door in their faces, which made you laugh.
“They think I’m a stone cold bitch,” the handsome man tilted his head and looked at you questioningly, “women are getting killed and I can’t even talk about what happened.”
“It’s understandable.”
You nodded at him gratefully, unsure how such a sweet man became involved with law enforcement. The silence was interrupted by the loud rumbling of your stomach. You flushed as Spencer burst into laughter.
“Are you hungry?” he asked, running a hand through his hair.
You groaned, “so hungry but this hospital food is shit,” you laughed.
“Do you fancy a burger?” when you nodded he went to speak to the blonde woman who had smiled at you before.
Spencer looked at you with horror as you deconstructed the burger so you could take the pickles off. You glanced up at him when you felt him looking, you smirked as you licked the ketchup from your fingers.
“What?”
“Pickles are the best part and you’re just throwing them away like they’re nothing!” he gasped.
You laughed, “do you want my pickles?”
“Yes,” he replied within a split second and you passed the slimy veggie over to him, wincing when he crunched it between his teeth.
“Ew.”
There came a knock on the door as Spencer laughed, it was the blonde woman, she smiled at you before glancing over at Spencer, “Spence, we’ve got a lead on the case.”
You’d forgotten, you’d forgotten what he did for a job, only just remembering that he was trying to gather intel.
“I um think I’m gonna stay, actually,” he said which surprised you and he glanced over at you, “that okay?”
“Sure,” you nodded.
“Okay,” the woman said, “call us if you need to,” and then she was gone.
“Your team will be one person down.”
Spencer shrugged, “they’ll be fine.”
The only thing that you and Spencer did for the next couple of hours was watch rubbish on TV, every time there was news coverage on the case, Spencer turned it over to another channel. You fiddled with the sheets of the hospital bed as you glanced over at Spencer’s profile.
“I’ve remembered something.”
Spencer glanced over at you, biting his lip, “Y/N, you don’t have to.”
“I want to,” you interrupted him with a sigh, “I don’t know how much help it’s gonna be but I remember the smell of strawberries but only after it rained. And there was this other smell, kind of like vanilla but like flowers at the same time.”
Spencer smiled at you, “this helps,” he quickly called his partner, instructing them to look for farms were strawberries and honeysuckle grew. You didn’t understand most of his words, he said things like ‘unsub’ and ‘comfort zone.”
The hospital kept you in for ‘observation’ which you bought at first but then you overheard the cops talking about your escape. You heard them saying if the abductor had got wind of where you were it was likely he would come and finish you off. Everything made you jumpy after that. Spencer came to see you when he could, bringing takeout and you slowly opened up to him about what happened to you.
It had been about a week when you saw the news broadcast, the man who had abducted you had been caught. He looked so ordinary that it scared you. When the door to your room opened, you glanced over with a smile that dropped a second later.
“I’m Derek, Spencer’s friend,” the stranger told you, showing you his badge and he glanced at the TV, “came here to tell you we caught him but I can see you already know,” he chuckled then sighed at the expression on your face, “he wanted to be here to say goodbye but he had to make sure the man who hurt you was away. For good. For you.”
There was a pain in your chest and you wanted to cry and scream at yourself for being so stupid, “so, I guess you guys are leaving?”
“We are.”
You sighed, scrawling something on a piece of paper and handed it to Derek, “will you give this to Spencer?”
He smiled, he had kind eyes, “you got it.”
You thanked him as he left but you were left with a bitter taste in your mouth. Spencer hadn’t come to say goodbye.
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ktgoodmorning · 3 days
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"I'm fine."
Ona Batlle x Reader
You're overworking yourself more than you should be and Ona's worried about you. But you're fine !
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Masterlist
You yawned as you checked what time it was, sipping from your coffee as you did so. The clock blinked back at you, reading 5:00 am. Papers were strewn across the kitchen table as you regained your focus on your laptop in front of you, trying to finish all the work you could before your girlfriend was up and you both had to get ready to go to work. It was your fourth day in a row of this routine, up for hours getting caught up on your school work before going to work with Ona. 
You had recently been given a job working with the physios for Barcelona while you wrapped up your schooling. It was an incredible opportunity, something you couldn’t say no to, however it had piled on a significant amount of work. At the moment, your job was doing administrative duties for the physios, data tracking and record keeping to make sure it all ran smoothly. It was important for you to prove yourself so that once you finished school you could get offered a real physio job working with the players. But for now, you had your little office that you spent plenty of long hours in and that was all you needed, you just had to stay focused on your school work at the same time.
“Are you seriously up this early again?” You looked over your shoulder just to see Ona trudging towards you, still half asleep. Her hair was a tangled mess, voice rough with sleep as she made her way behind you, draping her arms over your shoulders lazily and pressing her face into your neck. 
“Oni I have to get all this work done you know that,” You kissed her cheek lightly, “I didn’t wake you up, did I?” Your free hand came up to rest on top of hers as she still stayed, hugging you from behind while you went back to your work. 
She shook her head in the crook of your neck, “how long have you been up? You need sleep, mi cielo.”
You let out a soft sigh, pausing your work momentarily, “I’m fine, I promise. I just need to stay caught up with everything. If you want, there’s some coffee on the counter but it might be cold now.” 
The brunette pressed a kiss to your cheek before standing to get the coffee you made. “Don’t think I didn’t notice how you avoided my question. And the way this coffee is ice cold has me thinking I really won’t like the answer.” She gave you a pointed look, a small smirk adorning her face, while you just rolled your eyes. “Will you at least tell me how many cups of coffee you’ve had so far?”
“This is number three.” She wasn’t sure she heard you correctly due to how softly you spoke. 
“Did you just say three?” you nodded. “It’s barely even 5:00 and you’ve had three cups of coffee. You’re obviously tired. Let’s go lie down, you’ve still got plenty of time before we have to leave. I’ll hold you, come on.” Your girlfriend stood up, immediately offering her hand, looking at you expectantly for you to join her in an extra hour of sleep. You cringed slightly, not getting up from your spot at the table but knowing she wasn’t going to like your answer.
“Ona you know I can’t do that. I can’t get behind on this school work. If you want to go back to sleep though, I’ll bring my computer and come sit with you?”
“That’s alright,” she shook her head and settled back into the chair next to you, slightly defeated that she couldn’t convince you, “I’ll stay out here with you, keep you company.”
“Thanks, love. Your company does make it slightly less miserable.”
“Well I’m certainly glad I don’t make it more miserable.” You giggled softly, sharing a soft kiss before she rested her head on your shoulder, watching you do your school work while she settled into your side.  
You knew you were exhausted and that Ona was right, but at the moment it was just the price you had to pay. There was only about a month left until you finished school, then your workload would be cut in half. The problem at the moment was the combination of school plus your new job that was killing you. You had to keep up with both, horribly desperate to prove yourself in every possible way. So if it meant being a little short on sleep, you could handle it. By getting up early and staying up late, doing as much as possible when Ona was asleep, it left you more time to spend with Ona during the day. The more you did it, the more your girlfriend seemed to realize just how tired you were becoming, but you just had to push through it for another month and then it would be over. 
About an hour later, you were surprised to see that your girlfriend was still awake against your shoulder. You assumed it was boring or uncomfortable for her to be sitting there that long with nothing to do besides watch you do homework and drink cold coffee, but Ona didn’t seem to mind. 
She remained snuggled into your side until her alarm went off, signaling that you both needed to get ready to go. As soon as you abandoned your work, you were back to your usual self, making conversation with each other and dancing around to some of your favorite music as you got ready for the day together. 
You had a little routine together where you often did each other's hair in the morning. It didn’t matter what it was, it was just a small way of getting to connect with each other and start your day off on a high note. So there you sat, in front of your mirror while Ona threaded her fingers through your hair as you shut your eyes and leaned back into her hands. “You always end up looking like you’re gonna fall asleep when I play with your hair.” she giggled at you.
“Yeah, it's relaxing,” you shrugged, “And you say I always look like I’m gonna fall asleep so it’s really nothing out of the ordinary anyways.”
“Hmm, that’s true, cause you never sleep, mi cielo.” Her hands carefully pulled your hair back into a low bun for you, making sure it was up to your standards before you switched spots to do her braid. Even though it was small, you were extremely grateful for this part of your routine. Feeling her hands move along your scalp always brought you comfort during your least favorite time of day. 
.
When you arrived at the training grounds, Ona walked you to your office just as she always did, carrying your bag for you and giving you plenty of kisses before she headed off to the locker room. The second she left your office, you immediately buried yourself in your work. The coffee machine in your office was working overtime trying to keep up with you while you only looked away from your work long enough to brew a new cup. It seemed as though your days of sleepless nights were starting to catch up with you as you continued to work harder to remain focused. 
Most days at work, you’d eat lunch with Ona. Either she’d bring her lunch to your office or, more commonly, you’d take your lunch to go eat with her and her teammates. You knew most of them, especially the ones she was closer with, so you liked having the break outside the confines of your office. 
But today you couldn’t do that. 
If you just spent your lunch working on your school work, you would have time to spend with Ona after you both finished working, which seemed like a much better use of your time. That way it’d be just the two of you, not stuck at work, able to spend some quality time together. 
So you did the one thing you almost never did, and shut your office door, signaling to everyone to leave you uninterrupted. Of course when it was fifteen minutes into your lunch breaks and you still hadn’t filled the seat Ona had saved for you at the table with her friends, she picked up her plate and made her way to your office, thinking that’s what you were intending on. You heard her footsteps stop outside your door, and watched as she seemed to just pause there, figuring out what to do. On one hand, she knew that your closed door meant you were busy, but on the other hand, she also knew it was your lunch break. 
When she finally made up her mind, she opened your door, ever so slowly, peeking her head through the small crack and finally seeing what had kept you from her- more school work. Upon seeing what you were doing, the brunette further opened your door and entered, settling into the extra chair across from your desk to eat her lunch. “Are you really working through lunch? No offense but you look like you haven’t slept in days, babe. You look like you could pass out at any second, you really need to take a break.”
“Ona, I’m fine. If I finish this now, then I’ll have time to spend with you tonight once we’re done here. Then I’ll take a break. With you.” You gave her a cheesy smile, hoping she’d accept your answer but still knowing she probably wouldn’t. 
“As much as I’d like some time with you, it’s not me I’m worried about. You need a break. For you. Look me in the eyes and tell me what time you went to bed last night. Or if you went to bed for that matter.” 
Of course she saw right through you and you should’ve expected that. Ona knew you better than you knew yourself sometimes. “I’m okay, I promise. I’m a little tired, sure, but I’ll be fine. I just have to get to graduation and then I’ll have a normal schedule again.” 
Your girlfriend was starting to get frustrated by your insistence and refusal to listen. She knew you were running yourself to death and needed nothing more than a break to keep functioning. “(Y/n) you’re not listening. That’s the fifth time in the last two minutes that you’ve yawned, don’t think I don’t notice. When was the last time your head hit a pillow?”
“Ona. I’m fi-”
“If you say you’re fine one more time I might lose my mind.” She took a deep breath, trying to remain calm and not push her frustrations onto you further. The defender quickly stood up, pulling you up from your chair abruptly, “That’s it! We’re getting you out of this stupid office! 
You knew there was no point in arguing with her, allowing her to drag you down the hallway into a lounge area when some of her teammates were scattered around the room keeping themselves busy. Some were finishing lunch, some of the younger girls doing school work of their own, others just relaxing together and hanging out. Ona pulled you onto a couch that had some sort of football game playing in front of it, many of the girls half-watching it. She immediately pulled you into her side, forcing you to cuddle up to her- something she wouldn’t normally do when you were both at work, but decided it was necessary at that moment. 
“Lay down. I’ll set an alarm to wake you up when your lunch is over, just please, rest.” You gave her a half-hearted glare, partially for pulling you away from your schoolwork but partially because you doubted you’d be able to sleep in a space like this. But once again, Ona saw right through you. “Close your eyes and stop fighting it. I’ll be right here with you, even if you can’t actually sleep, you need a break. And you’re already half asleep so I’m really not too worried about it. I’ve got you, mi cielo.” 
You gave her a slight nod before making yourself comfortable with your head on her lap, trying to do as she asked. You knew you were tired but didn’t fully comprehend how bad it was until your body instantly succumbed to your exhaustion. Within minutes, you had passed out on the couch. Ona’s teammates knew not to bother you having heard all of the defender’s concerns about you and your lack of sleep lately. All she got from them were a few knowing glances, happy to see how relieved Ona was at the sight of you sleeping on her. 
Your girlfriend fully intended on waking you up at the same time you normally ended your lunch and went back to work, but you were so peaceful on her lap, and she knew how badly you needed the sleep that she had a hard time doing so. She knew she hated lying to you and that you’d likely be pissed off at her, but Ona really, truly felt that she didn’t have a choice- she had to let you sleep. You were running yourself into the ground and this seemed to be the only hope at slowing you down and allowing your body to recuperate. 
When it was time for her to go back to her own training, Alexia came over to grab her, stopping in front of the younger woman when she saw the current position she was in, flashing her a sympathetic look. “Oni, you stay with your girl, I’ll cover for you. It’s just a regular gym session so you can make it up another time. Let her sleep.” 
She was shocked to hear her captain so willing to allow her to miss a gym session, just to let you keep sleeping, but Alexia knew how worried she had been about you, everyone did. It was all Ona had talked about for the last week- how you were exhausted and overworked and rarely sleeping more than a few hours. And Ona had been playing full 90’s lately so Alexia knew she could also afford the break to let her body recover alongside yours. “Thank you, Ale. Seriously, I owe you.” 
“Don’t mention it. You could use the sleep too, so why don’t you both just use the afternoon to catch up. I’ll let the physios know about (y/n). They’ve been pushing more than anyone that she needs a break so they’ll be glad to know she finally has one.” 
Ona gave her captain another nod, grateful for the understanding, before getting comfy alongside you so she could also get some shut-eye. Alexia turned down the volume of the TV and lowered the lights before bringing a throw blanket to throw on top of you both, quietly chuckling at Ona as she did so, “Let me just be a mom for a second, tuck you in and tell you sweet dreams.” The blonde placed a quick kiss on both of your foreheads before leaving the two of you alone, knowing just how badly both of you needed it.
It was hours later when you woke up on Ona’s lap, still on a couch at the Barca training facility. As your eyes slowly creeped open, you noticed how quiet the room was, as if there wasn’t a team member within a mile radius of you. You looked around some, a bit confused as to how you ended up in the position you did when you finally thought to check your watch- 5:47 PM. 
You jolted up, startling Ona awake as you did so, confused as to how you could’ve slept through your entire afternoon. “Ona, what the hell?! You were supposed to wake me up! How did I just sleep through the entire afternoon, I was supposed to be working!” 
“Hey, hey, it’s okay I promise. Ale agreed we should let you sleep, the other physios were totally okay with it, she double checked and everything. It’s okay.” She watched the tension physically leave your body as you let out a sigh, partially relieved to hear that nobody would be mad at you for ignoring your work all afternoon, partially annoyed that your girlfriend forced you into taking a nap. It was hard to be mad at her though when you saw the way she looked at you, her eyes big and filled with concern.“You fell asleep right on my lap. It was cute. You’re adorable when you’re sleeping, you know that?”
 You collapsed back into her arms for a hug, appreciative at her insistence to take care of you, even if you didn’t want to do it yourself. “Thank you, Oni. I love you, clearly I needed that.”
 She held you close, rocking you gently before separating herself. “And I love you, mi cielo.” She pressed a kiss to the tip of your nose, “why don’t we go home? Snuggle for real, not at work, and then get to bed?” You responded with a slight nod before allowing her to help you up, and go gather your things to drive you both home. 
.
On the way home Ona made the executive decision to pick up some takeout so you could really just focus on relaxing together once you got home. When you arrived, you did just that. Your girlfriend wouldn’t let you lift a finger, fully insisting that she had to take care of you so you could wind down and take a break. She led you directly to your room, sitting you on the bed while she changed you from your work clothes and into an old sweatshirt of hers with some comfy shorts. The defender made sure you were fully settled on the couch in a pile of pillows and blankets with your food before she took a shower and got changed to join you. 
In the time that she was away, you had dozed off again in the cocoon she had made you in the living room, only waking up when you heard her footsteps. “Sorry, were you sleeping? I didn’t mean to wake you, go back to sleep.” She sat down next to you, stroking your hair soothingly, knowing just how much it put you to sleep when she played with your hair. 
“Why don’t we just go to bed instead? You can read or something but it might be easier if I’m just in bed already before I fall asleep again.” Your girlfriend gave you a nod before leading you into your bed, snuggling up next to you. 
Once you had settled in bed, you were basically laying on top of her, her hands holding you tightly against her with your head on her chest, listening to her heartbeats. “Goodnight kiss before you fall asleep?” The brunette left a light tap on your back, getting your attention before you leaned up to fulfill her request, happy to oblige. 
“Do you wanna hear about the dream I had last night?” Ona asked you quietly, knowing her voice would lull you to sleep if you let her keep talking. You did this anytime either of you struggled to fall asleep- talking softly, mostly nonsense about anything and everything while the other half-listened until eventually falling asleep. You gave her a somewhat excited nod, knowing that her voice was always exactly what you needed. 
So there you were, while Ona went on and on about her latest dream and you drifted back into sleep, not processing any of your words. “So then I was going to-” she looked down, noticing how your breaths had slowed, “oh okay you’re already asleep, I’m just talking to myself now, cool.” The brunette breathed out a slight chuckle at the sight of you. “Buenas noches, mi cielo. Sweet dreams.” She pressed a long kiss to your hairline, thankful to finally see you at peace, for the first time in at least a week- completely at rest in your lover’s arms.
hope you enjoyed! always appreciate any feedback and requests :)
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sometimesanalice · 12 hours
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Between Friends
Summary: Bradley and you don’t talk about that Spring Break. But a single question asked during a night out at the Hard Deck might just change things between the two of you forever.
Pairing: Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw x Female Reader
Length: 11K
Warning: smut (including loss of virginity), brief mention of underage drinking, and college!bradley in a backwards hat
(Author's note: Happy Birthday Jordan! I wrote this just for you! Look at me keeping secrets from you! Enjoy!)
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𝐍𝐎𝐖
Rooster couldn’t control his bouncing leg.
That night at the Hard Deck had started out like any other: good music, good drinks, good people. Over the course of the evening, he’d found himself seated between you and Bob in a lopsided circle with the rest of the Daggers around a few tall tables that had been pushed together just shooting the shit.
It was all fun and games until swapping stories about embarrassing middle school moments turned into cringing over first kiss stories turned into Seresin grinning like a shark asking about how everyone’s first time went down.
Rooster felt his pulse kick up with every collective laugh and groan as his friends went one by one sharing how they’d lost their virginities. Because with each passing story, it meant that you were one person closer to going. And for the first time in his life- even after over two decades of friendship- he didn’t know what your answer was going to be.
So he is just as shocked as his teammates are when you tentatively reveal, “So, um, my first time was with Rooster.” He doesn’t miss the way all his friends’ heads snap towards him. 
All eyes are on the two of you, and you’re pointedly looking anywhere but him.
Rooster had been anxiously waiting to hear the story of your first official time, the one that was with someone who wasn’t him. He didn’t realize that you still considered him your first.  He’d figured that part of your history had long been overwritten by whoever had been lucky enough to catch your eye and make your heart race in a romantic way.
The two of you had never talked about it in the after.
Not once, not ever.
He didn’t care that people knew, he just wasn’t expecting it.
Jake starts the group out of its stunned silence by slapping a heavy hand on top of the table, nearly sending some bottles to the floor, “I knew it! I knew y’all couldn’t have been friends all this time and not have tried it out at least once.”
“Jesus Christ, dude, chill,” Javy mutters. He’s always been the better of the two about reading the room.
Trying to spare you from being put on the spot even more than you already were now, Rooster mumbles through the way he’d lost his to a girl from his AP Econ class after a playoff baseball game.
He stares at the way you’re nervously picking at the label of the Blue Moon he’d grabbed for you when he went to get a refill of his own. He can practically hear the way your brain is buzzing. He wonders if you wish you could take back the words from where they are sitting on the table with the collection of bottles and peanut shells for everyone to see.
Bob being the team player that he is starts talking about how he’d lost his one summer in college to another camp counselor, going into more detail than he’s ever given before, probably trying to redirect the attention to himself to give the two of you a moment to regroup.
Rooster makes a mental note to tell Penny to put all of Bob’s cream sodas from now on on his own tab.
He doesn’t know what he’s supposed to do here. Or where to look. Or where to put his hands. He wants to talk to you, but there’s no good way for him to go about it without drawing even more attention to the two of you.
You were supposed to be going on a first date tonight, but he’d talked you into canceling to hang out with him instead. He likes having all of your attention on him. And maybe he’s been a little selfish with you, because he doesn’t like to share you with anyone else. You’ve always been his best friend.
Rooster likes that he gets to talk to you whenever he wants now, and that it doesn’t feel like a never-ending game of catch up anymore. In the year since the Uranium mission, he’d felt like all the fragmented pieces of his life had finally come together. He’d reconnected with Mav, he was living in the same city as his best friend, and he had a place he could finally call home.
He didn’t just want the highlights with you, he wanted everything in between too. There’s no more distance due to time zones and scheduling times to call because now you only live 20 minutes away from him. And the next time he comes home from a deployment, he knows he’ll get to look forward to seeing you there waiting for him.
He feels like he’s learned so much more about the grown-up version of you over the last year than he has in the last ten.
Jake jumps in barely a breath after Bob finishes telling his story. “Well, we all know it’s not the first who matters, but who was the best.” Rooster doesn’t trust the gleam in his eyes or the sharp smile on his face. “Since Bradshaw cut you off before, how’s about you go first this time, darlin’. You can tell us about who knocked your socks off. Maybe this time he’ll let you finish, if you know what I mean.”
It’s thinly veiled snooping disguised as chivalry, and it doesn’t fool anyone. Nat’s eyes dart to him briefly, trying to get a read on him.
He’d been 21 at the time. And while he knows more now that he did then, he also knows his name isn’t going to be coming out of your mouth for a second time tonight.
Rooster takes a sip of his beer, needing something to do.
He knows you’ve been with other people. You’d lived with your ex for over a couple years, for fuck's sake. But it was like an unspoken agreement between the two of you to not talk about your sex lives with each other.
His leg starts bouncing again and he realizes he really doesn’t want to hear this. Not because of his ego, but because he doesn’t know what to do about the knot that’s formed in his stomach.
Your mouth opens and closes a couple times before you speak, “That title would also go to Rooster.” The admission is soft, but sure. 
Where his heart had been pounding before, now it feels like it had stopped completely.
It’s been 13 years since that Spring Break. 13 years and he’s still your best?
Barely five minutes ago, he hadn’t known where to look. But now? Now he couldn’t stop staring at you.
He just didn’t understand why you still wouldn’t look at him back.
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𝐒𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐁𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐊, 𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐂𝐇 𝟐𝟎𝟏𝟎
When you’d floated the idea by Bradley about visiting him at UVA for Spring Break during your weekly phone call, you’d been braced for the disappointment of him already having plans. It was his Senior year, it wouldn’t surprise you if he wanted to go out with a bang and make the most of it. Especially since he would belong to the Navy soon enough.
But he’d taken you by surprise when he started enthusiastically listing off all the places he wanted to show you, planning out your trip like a well-seasoned travel agent before you’d even booked a plane ticket.
You’d started looking up airfare before you’d even hung up the phone. And thirty minutes later you had a confirmation email flagged in your inbox after elatedly charging that aisle seat to the credit card you only used for emergencies.
It had been close to a year since you’d last seen him. He usually spent his Winter Break with your family, but this year he’d stayed on campus for the holidays and it was the longest the two of you had ever been apart since you’d first met him when you were 8.
And maybe that’s why it took you so long to spot him in the Arrivals area of the Charlottesville-Albemarle Airport.
You’ve always prided yourself in being able to pick Bradley out of a crowd anywhere, but in your cursory glance you hadn’t recognized the tall, broad guy with the UVA shirt pulled taut across his chest and wearing a baseball hat backward on his head. It wasn’t until your third searching pass that you’d caught the lips that were quirked up in amusement and those familiar brown eyes trained on you as he leaned ever-so-casually against the faux wood paneling on the wall waiting for you to notice him.
He’d filled out in the months since you’d last seen him. He was more toned than you remembered him being with definition in places where there hadn’t been before. His face had more distinct angles and less baby fat cushioned curves. Still a bit boyish, but he was well on his way to looking like a man.
Bradley raised his hand like he was going to wave, but then he’d mimicked casting a fishing line in your direction and reeling it in. And it was so endearingly stupid- so him- that you couldn’t help but take the bait and made your way towards him with the biggest grin on your face.
You’d ignored the jittery flutter in your stomach as you’d weaved between people and luggage. You’ve never been nervous around your best friend before. There was something that had on your mind a lot as the days to your visit inched closer, but you’d shoved that out of your mind, because you were finally standing in front of him in person for the first time in months. 
“Hey, kid,” he’d greeted you, taking your bag, “Charlottesville must have known you were coming, because she’s going to be sunny for you all week.” As soon as you were within arm’s reach, he tugged you right into his chest for a hug. You could feel the unspoken I missed you in the way he squeezed you just that bit tighter before releasing you.
Then he was dropping an arm over your shoulders and steering you towards the exit and driving you into town in the beat-up car he’d bought after selling his prized Montero, the car that Mav had given him for his birthday.
You’re only there for a week and Bradley doesn’t waste a single moment of it.
After dropping your things off in his dorm room, he takes you straight to campus where he gives you the Official Bradley Bradshaw Certified UVA Tour. He buys you lunch from one of the food trucks in the Amphitheater “for sustenance” before taking you to see the highlights. You start with the Rotunda and then the academic village, making a special pitstop at the Whispering Wall for you to tell it a secret. And then he takes you on a more historical tour, like showing you the exact route he used to streak The Lawn and pointing out the place he’d puked after his 21st birthday.
It’s clear he’d put so much thought into your visit because it seems like there is never a down moment. By the end of the third day you’re more surprised that you don't wake up every morning with a printed itinerary on your pillow.
He sneaks you into the Slaughter Rec Center to rock climb, claiming he had a person on the inside with the right connections. But really from what you could tell, the pretty girl at the check-in counter clearly had a crush on him. He takes you to the batting cages he likes to go to before Dead Week, and spends the time there equal parts making fun of your power swing and trying to fix it.
You get your revenge the next day standing outside of the imposing columns and massive doors to the Fralin Art Museum. Skeptically eyeing the sculpture in the front of the building that kind of looked like a giant wisdom tooth, you mentioned, “I didn’t realize you’d become such a patron of the cultural arts.”
“Hey now, I like artsy shit,” he’d said, only mildly affronted.
You snorted at that. “Is there an exhibit on beer pong and blunt rolling you wanted to see?” Through the window you’d spotted some large landscape oil paintings in ornate gilded frames and carved marble busts of what you assumed were probably of some of the Founding Fathers.
“You just missed that one, it was last month,” Bradley lobbed back, opening the door for you.
“What a pity,” you’d said with a dramatic sigh, “Guess we’ll have to settle for some tasteful nudes instead.”
“If we’re lucky,” he’d muttered under his breath, as you passed under his arm.
And then you’d felt the corners of your mouth kick up.
Turning around you’d pressed your finger to his chest, whispering so the person behind the ticket desk didn’t hear you, “Twenty bucks says you don’t make it thirty minutes in there.”
He narrowed his eyes, taking in your sly grin, “You’re on, kid.”
It’s the easiest $20 you’ve ever made.
The two of you call it a truce only after he tips your kayak into the still chilly Rivanna River.
Later that night, he takes you to a party on “Mad Bowl” that one of his frat friends was hosting. The backyard was all strung up with red and green Christmas lights like they had been too lazy to take them down after the holidays and decided it added to the outdoor ambiance instead of packing them away.
He was still just as protective over you as he was back in high school. Spending the whole night keeping an eye on you and handing you drinks that he’d uncapped himself using the opener that he had on his keychain, the one that still had the little fighter jet charm you’d given him ages ago dangling from it.
The days pass all too quickly as he shows you all of his favorite spots.
You knew UVA wasn’t where he’d originally wanted to be- where he thought he’d be- but you were happy that he seemed happy here.
But in between the late-night microwave ramen and movie watching and crossing off all the things on Bradley’s Spring Break To-Do List, there’d been something you’d been wanting to talk to him about. But you were having so much fun with him, you’d missed your best friend over those long months apart, and you didn’t want to ruin the time you had left with him here.
It lingered at the back of your mind like a phantom hair that you can feel, but can’t ever seem to brush off no matter how many times you attempt to. You felt like you were waiting for the right time that you weren’t sure would ever come. And if you were being honest, you weren’t entirely sure you would even be brave enough to ask if the time came.
The two of you had woken up way before the sun this morning.
If anyone other than Bradley had asked you to wake up before 5 AM to go hike to watch the sunrise, you would have laughed at them. But because it was Bradley, you’d set the alarm without comment. Even though he did have to gently pry you out of his roommate’s bed- with the fresh sheets he told you he bought especially for your visit- and lace up your shoes for you.
The views at Humpback Rock had been worth the hour hike up to the outcrop of craggy rocks. The sunrise painted them a stunning shade of soft orange as the rays illuminated evergreen covered hills and valleys that extended in front of you to the skyline. You and Bradley watched it in silence, shoulders pressed against each other  as you took it all in.
You’re cozied up on your bed for the week, flipping through a book you’d brought with you, but hadn’t touched at all until now when Bradley comes back from the showers. His hair is still damp and the ends are starting to curl a bit.  
He drops a Styrofoam cup of coffee on the nightstand next to you.
You hadn’t been sure what rooming with him would be like, the two of you together 24/7 since his roommate had left to go home for the break.  But it felt like you were two kids at sleepaway camp getting away with mischief rather than two broke college students only pretending to get away with mischief.
He sits down at the edge of his bed, his elbows resting on his thighs, “So.”
“So?” you repeat, blowing on the hot coffee before taking a sip.
“Are you going to tell me what’s been up with you?”
You wince, and it’s not because the coffee tastes like tar. 
“What do you mean?” you try to ask casually.
Bradley gives you a look that says you don’t fool me, kid. “You’ve been squirrely. I didn’t want to press it, but I can tell there’s something on your mind.” He takes a sip of his own milky battery acid. “Are classes going better since you switched majors?”
You nod, looking anywhere else other than at him.
“How are things with your Dad?”
You offer him a shrug.
He sighs your name in exasperation. You can tell he is trying to tamper his frustration at your lack of cooperation.
“Is it a guy?” Bradley tries again.
You swear you feel your heart stop, because you knew what you wanted to ask him, but you didn’t know how he was going to take it.
You fiddle with a string on his roommate’s comforter. “There’s something I wanted to talk to you about,” you admit, tentatively, “But I’m nervous.”
Bradley’s eyebrows pull together as he sets his coffee aside, “C’mon, it’s just me. You can talk to me about anything.”
“It’s more of a question.” One you’re still deflecting from asking.
“Ok, well you know you can ask me anything.” His tiny dorm room feels even smaller as the two of you try to read the other’s face.
Taking a deep breath, you ask the question that’s been rattling around in your brain for weeks.
“Bradley, I was wondering if you’d be my first?”
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Less than ten words. That’s all it takes to tilt Bradley’s world off its axis.
He’s loved getting to show you around UVA this week. It wasn’t where he thought he’d end up, but he hadn’t lost sight of where he was going. He was going to be a Naval Aviator one way or another. He just also got to have a normal college experience too, one he’d been excited to share with you.
Bradley had originally been invited to go stay with one of his friends at his family’s beach house, but when you called and asked about coming to visit Charlottesville, it was an easy choice for him. He’d pick you every time.
It had been even better getting to cross off some of the things on the bucket list he’d made for his Senior Year with you in tow, like the hike he’d taken you on this morning.
He loves the views from up there and thought it would be something you’d like too, but he’d never done the hike early enough to catch the sunrise before. It was actually something he was planning on going the morning of graduation as a symbolic way to end his time at UVA, but getting to do it with you was special in its own way.
And while he’d caught you lost in thought more than a few times over the last few days as he showed you around, he never in a million years would have ever expected you to ask him that.
Bradley knows all the words you just used, but they don’t make sense to him in that order.
His brain is working in overdrive trying to figure out if there is any possible way he could have misinterpreted you.
“Your first…”
You take another deep breath and tip your chin up in resolve before looking him dead in the eye, there’s so much vulnerability reflected in them, “I haven’t had sex before, Bradley. And I’m really hoping that my first time can be with you.”
Bradley wants to tell you to put your Styrofoam cup down because he’s worried the tight grip you have on it might crush it, but he feels like the wind has been knocked out of him.
He didn’t realize when his leg started bouncing until he sees you glance down at it.
Shooting to his feet and off his bed, he goes to lean against his recently decluttered desk. There’s too much restless energy coursing through him to just sit like he isn’t completely reeling. 
“Shouldn’t you want to do this with someone special? Like with rose petals and all that shit?” He scrubs a hand over his face. Rose petals and all that shit? God, he sounds like such a fucking dumbass, but he’s struggling to keep up.
And if he’s being entirely honest, he’s pretty surprised to learn you’re still a virgin. Not that there’s anything wrong with it, but he knows you’ve had at least one serious boyfriend since you’ve gone to college. He figured that you got asked out all the time. He saw the way that some of the guys in his buddy’s frat were looking at the pretty girl with the dimples and big smile.
The girl who just asked him to be her first.
He hates the way your shoulders have slumped forward, like you’re trying not to cave in on yourself, “So, you don’t want to?”
“I didn’t say that.” His answer takes him by surprise.
The only other sound in the room other than his pounding heart is the whir of the air circulating in his dorm. 
“Would it help to make a pro con list?” you offer, less than helpfully with a little shrug.
“Jesus Christ,” Bradley mutters under his breath, looking up at the speckled ceiling trying to decode the flecks like tea leaves. “She’s cracking jokes like she didn’t ask me to make her come.”
“Technically, I didn’t say anything about that. I just asked you to be my first.”
“I’m not taking your virginity and not giving you an orgasm,” he states, and your eyes get wide. He runs his hands through his hair. “Sex makes things complicated, kid. We’ve got a good friendship.”
You sit up straighter on his roommate’s bed and bring your knees to your chest. It exposes the backs of your thighs and he has to shake the mental images of skin on skin out of his head.
There’s a look on your face that tells him you feel ridiculous even asking him, “Do you think you’re going to fall in love with me or something?”
“No,” Bradley says, honestly.
He knows you’re just trying to make a point.
The two of you have been friends for over a decade. He knows he cares about you- he always has- but he couldn’t imagine what anything other than just friendship would look like with you.
You nod in agreement, like you had been anticipating the answer before you’d even asked him the question.
“And do you think I’m going to fall in love with you?” you ask, your head tilting to the side.
He doesn’t even blink, “You can do better than me.”
And he means it.
Even if there was something more between the two of you, you’ve always been too good for him. And knowing him, he’d find a way to fuck it up. You’re the last person in the world he’d ever want to hurt. He’d let you down before, he doesn’t want to do it ever again.
You shoot him a disappointed look, like you don’t like hearing him say that about himself. And he’s oddly touched that you’re defending him against himself. 
“You’d literally be doing me a favor.”
Bradley is still surprised that he hasn’t ended this conversation yet. The two of you were supposed to go to the movies, but that definitely wasn’t happening now.
“I’m not saying no,” he says, “But I need you to help me understand. Why me? Why now?”
“Bradley, I want it to be with you because there’s no one else I’ll ever feel as comfortable with as I do with you,” you explain.
He watches as you unfold yourself and climb off the bed, coming to stand in front of him. You gingerly reach out and put your hand on his forearm, like you don’t want to startle him. Not that he’d be able to move anyways since it feels like the soles of his feet are cemented to the floor.
“I keep waiting for it to not feel like such a big thing, but every time it seems like it’s going to happen, I freeze. And I know you’d take care of me, and I’m not talking about orgasms.” You stumble over the word a bit, not fully meeting his eyes as you say it. “It’s scary enough as a girl and I’m worried I’m going to be too in my head with anyone else. But I also don’t want to look back and have any regrets, and I know I wouldn’t have any with you.”
The mention of regrets makes his stomach twinge. His heart feels like it’s hammering in his chest. He doesn’t know what to say.
You are looking at him with such open sincerity. He has never been good with talking about his feelings, he’s always been the type to bottle things up, while you have always worn your heart on your sleeve. It was just another way that you were braver than him.
“I know it’s a lot,” you say, letting go of him to take a step back, like you want to give him breathing room, “So if it’s too big of an ask. Or if it’s not something you’re comfortable with-”
Bradley shakes his head cutting you off, “It’s not that at all, kid. I just haven’t done this before.” Your eyebrow scrunches together in confusion. “I mean, I have,” he corrects, “But it’s not the same. All the girls I’ve been with had already had experience. And if we were going to do this, I would want to make sure it’s as nice for you as it can be.”
“So you’d be my first and I’d be yours? Well, kind of.” You give him a little smile, it’s a shy but hopeful thing. There’s only a hint of your dimples, but it’s enough. And he feels that practical part of him that had been holding back soften at the sight of it.
He doesn’t think he’s ever said no to you, excluding the times you tried to get him to give you his beer at the house parties he took you to in high school, and that was more out of self-preservation from a healthy fear of your mom than anything else.
When you wanted to learn how to drive a stick shift? He took you to the abandoned parking lot, it didn’t matter that you didn’t have your learner’s permit yet. When you wanted to learn how to throw a punch? He was making sure you knew not to tuck your thumb under your fingers, so that you didn’t break your own thumb instead of someone’s nose.
He’s always had your back and you’ve had his. That’s how it was between the two of you.
You’ve already said it, but he needs to hear it again, “You really want to do it?”
“I really want it to be you, Bradley. I really want to do this with you. I trust you the most.”
He’s always been willing to help you with anything you’ve ever asked of him, why should this be any different? What’s a couple orgasms between friends?
“Ok,” Bradley nods. If it’s to reassure you or himself, he couldn’t say. “I’ll do it. We can do it.”
Your eyebrows raise in surprise, like you were fully prepared for him to let you down gently, “Really?”
You didn’t ask for his why he was agreeing, but he was going to give it to you anyway.
“I don’t think I’ve told you this, but I lost mine to Samantha Prescod after the game against Centennial that got us a spot at State that year,” he waits until he sees the recognition cross your face before continuing, “But I had also just learned about my mom’s diagnosis and I was trying to find anything I could do to not think about it.” He rubs at a spot underneath his collarbone, it never got any easier talking about his mom. “I think she assumed that I’d done it before, because we didn’t really talk about it. She was there and into it, so it just sort of happened. Actually, I’m pretty sure she only slept with me because she wanted to make her ex-boyfriend jealous, because they got back together like three days later.”
It’s probably for the best that Samantha Prescod lives on the other side of the country now because you look livid. Your eyes spark with anger and disbelief on his behalf.
“It was years ago, it’s fine, kid” he shrugs, trying to brush off your concern. “But if I had a do-over, I don’t know if I’d make the same choice again. And that’s not something I’d ever want for you.” You deserve the rose petals, but he’ll do his best for you. “So we can do it, but I have one condition.”
The relief on your face and the way the tension in your shoulder releases only solidifies his decision.
“Tell me,” you say, taking a half-step towards him, “I want you to be comfortable too.”
Bradley pushes off his desk and meets you the rest of the way, “If you even think you’re feeling uncomfortable- about any of it- I need you to tell me. And we’ll stop and figure out where to go from there. If it’s a change of position, if it’s a full stop and order pizza instead, we’ll do that.” He pauses and reaches out to tip your chin up. “I’ll do whatever you need, got it?”
You throw your arms around him, and his wrap around you just as easily. Your hair smells like the travel sized shampoo he’d picked up for you, figuring you wouldn’t want to use his 2-in-1. You murmur your thank you into his shirt followed by a fuck Samantha Prescod that makes him squeeze you just a bit tighter to him in affection.
When you step back and look at him, your lips twitch upwards, “What’s with the look, Bradshaw? Don’t tell me you’re going to lie back and think of England?”
That makes him chuckle, your joke lightening the mood in only the way that you can do. He rolls his eyes in equal parts exasperation and fondness.
“God, I haven’t been this nervous since I lost my own virginity. I was so stressed I was going to blow my load in two pumps and lose my street cred.”
You snort and send him a smirk, “Well, you must have done just fine. I overheard some glowing reviews in the girl’s bathroom on more than one occasion.”
“I maybe lasted ten trusts, but I had the good sense to eat her out after,” he admits, and then tacks on for good measure, “I’ve gotten better since then.”
“What a stud,” you tease.
This is easier, this feels like the two of you. This should be fun, it shouldn’t feel serious. He can make it good for you.
You look up at him shyly from under your lashes, “So how do we do this?”
He feels like he only just wrapped his head around the idea of it, but now he was facing the very real possibility of seeing you very naked very soon.
“You want to do it now?” Bradley blinks.
“I mean, if you’re up for it.” You scrunch your nose when you realize you’ve made a terrible double entendre. “No pun intended, I promise.”  
He wipes his hands on his pants.
“You sure?” he asks again.
“I’m sure, Bradley. As long as you are too.”
He nods, “Then I guess we just…”
He’s not sure where he was going to go with that. But he’s spared from being roasted by you for making some sure to be lame birthday suit joke because you’re untying the bow on the soft lounge shorts you’d thrown on after your shower from the hike, and all the words get trapped in his throat.
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You don’t look at Bradley as you slide your shorts down your legs. And you definitely don’t look at him when you pull your shirt over your head, leaving you in only a soft green mesh bra and your cotton underwear. They’re mismatched, but sex with Bradley wasn’t originally on the Spring Break To-Do List agenda for today.
In fact, you hadn’t even been sure you were going to go through with asking him until he brought up the point that he knew you had something on your mind because you apparently had no poker face.
While it felt like you had a swarm of butterflies whirling in your stomach, you also knew wholeheartedly that this was the right choice for you. Everything he had said had solidified that for you.
You weren’t sure how you were ever going to thank him for this, but you had a lifetime of friendship with Bradley to figure it out.
His room cast in the soft afternoon light, the blinds only partly closed. There are little streaks of gold that line the plaid comforter on his bed. He’d been right, Charlottesville had stayed sunny just for you.
As you climb into it and situate yourself against his pillows, you can help but notice just how much his bed smells like him. It’s not the spicy scent you associated with the High School version of him. The woodsy and warm scent embedded in the threads of his sheets suits this grown up version of him.
You feel equal parts overdressed and underdressed in your bra and underwear. You know the latter are going to come off eventually, so you make a split-second decision to just take them off yourself under his covers. The idea of Bradley helping you to pull them off later seems like it would be too intimate based on the way the thought of it makes your cheeks heat up.
It’s practical, you’re being practical, you think to yourself.
You chance a peek at him and are surprised to see that he hasn’t budged an inch. It’s almost like he is waiting for you to get completely settled before he dares to move a muscle. His eyes are trained on the pile of your clothes on the floor, he looks lost in thought.
“Bradley?”
The sound of your voice seems to kickstart him into action.
He shucks off his shirt in that kind of reckless way that seems to be ingrained in boys and then unbuttons his pants. You’re torn between feeling like you should give him privacy and wanting to watch. What you were expecting is the way he takes the time to pick his clothes up before folding them over the back of the chair at his desk.
Your mouth goes dry as you take in the sight of his body, the diffused light perfectly outlines the shape of him. His broad shoulders are rounded with the muscles he’s gained from whatever exercises the NROTC has been putting him through. Your eyes dip down to his defined chest and over the ridges of his abs. You’ve seen him in swim trunks plenty of times, but seeing the way the muscles of his thick thighs fill out the black boxer briefs he was wearing was entirely new to you.
Bradley approaches you and then pauses as he bends down to collect your pile of clothes on the floor, his hand hesitating only for a second when he reaches for your underwear. He drapes all of your things on top of his on the chair and makes his way back to you.
The gesture makes you melt a little like a soft serve ice cream cone on a summer afternoon.
You lift the corner of the cover for Bradley and he climbs in next to you. You move closer to the wall, trying to make more room for the bulk of him in his small bed, and he shifts in even closer into you until your bodies pressed tight against one another. The curves and angles of the two of you slotting together like pieces of a puzzle.
It feels like the two of you are teetering there on the edge of something. You both know exactly where it’s going, but are unsure of how to make it from Point A to Point B. Both waiting on the other person to make the first move.
He rests his warm hand on your stomach, the muscles there jumping on their own under his touch in anticipation. Your faces are close since you’re sharing his pillow. His brown eyes are searching yours, probably looking for any sign of hesitation that you don’t feel.
“Tell me how you’re feeling.” It’s not a question, but a request.
“Overwhelmed,” you admit, “But in a good way.” He runs his palm lightly up your stomach and back down, soothingly.
“Good, that’s good,” Bradley says, clearing his throat, “You’re supposed to feel a little ‘overwhelmed, but in a good way.’” You feel your lips pull up at his gentle teasing.
He smiles softly at you. His face has always been so familiar to you. The pink from his scars have finally faded, but you wonder when his eyes start crinkling around the corners.
You let go of the comforter to run a finger down the top of his nose, “I don’t know how this has stayed so straight.” He’d been in more than a couple fights in his teen years, including one that had sent him through a sliding glass door.
“Probably the combination of a little luck and the fact that none of those guys could throw a punch,” Bradley smirks. He shifts on his side, propping himself up on an elbow looking down at you, still running his hand along your stomach. “What have you done so far?”
His fingertips circle your bellybutton and your stomach swoops like it’s on the swing carousel ride at the fair.
“Some over the clothes stuff…” you stammer. You’re having trouble focusing because all your attention is on his big hand and how it feels against your oversensitive skin. “And I have a vibrator, but ah…”
You’re so keenly aware of his hand. With every lazy circle he makes, he has you wondering if this is going to be the one where he finally moves his hand lower. That part of you in flutters in expectation because you know it’s coming.
You let out a shaky huff when his fingers trails back up your stomach.
“What is it?” Bradley’s hand stops moving. “What are you thinking?”
“Honestly?” you say, trying not to squirm, “I’m getting really horny and you keep teasing me.”
He presses his lips together like he’s trying not to laugh at your overshare, and there’s amusement in his eyes.
“You know, some people call it foreplay,” he drawls. You’d roll your eyes but his fingertips are by your bellybutton again and you want him to keep going. “You ready for more?” You nod a few times because if he doesn’t touch you soon you might just crawl out of your skin. “Ok, gonna stop ‘teasing’ you now.”
This time his hand doesn’t stop at your bellybutton, it keeps moving down, down.
You stutter over a breath when Bradley’s fingers touch your clit. You feel yourself melt a little further into his mattress. He’s making easy circles, letting you get used to someone’s fingers other than your own on the most sensitive part of you. Your hands are clutching tightly to his comforter, unsure of what else to do with them.
“Spread your legs a little wider for me,” he murmurs. You feel your face heat up. He’d just given you a direction, but it sounds almost indecent coming out of his mouth.
You shift, moving your legs apart further for him, until he secures your left between his own, opening you up even more. You know you’re wet and now he does too. Bradley’s fingers slide easily over you as he increases the pressure on your clit. You can feel the intensity of his gaze on you watching for your reaction as he figures out what you like the most.
It doesn’t take him long to learn your body. You don’t know whether to be impressed with him or embarrassed with yourself at how quickly he’s worked you up.
Your breathing feels so loud in your ears in the quiet room, every breath and sigh is amplified. There’s a certain thrill in not knowing how he’s going to touch you next, your own fingers pale in comparison now.
His warm breath coasts down the side of your neck causing you to shiver at the sensation. It makes goosebumps break out along your arms and your nipples pull taut.
He notices. Of course he notices.
“Are you cold?” His voice is low in your ear.
“No, I-” Oh god, you’re right there. “B-bradley, I’m-” You’ve made yourself orgasm plenty of times, but you’ve never shared that part of yourself with anyone else before. No one knows what you sound like or what you look like when you come. But now, Bradley was going to have the piece of you too. A whine escapes you without your permission.
“It’s ok, kid, I’ve got you.”
You’re seeking and searching, but it’s Bradley’s fingers that have the answer.
And you come with your stomach twitching and hips jerking as he murmurs praise in your ear.
His fingers slow down, featherlight on your clit, but your heart is still racing when he rasps, “There’s one, you up for another?”
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Bradley loves that moment during sex when he hears that first gasp or moan. He loves learning what sounds of satisfaction he can pull from his partner. He loves knowing he earned it. But he never in his life could have ever anticipated hearing those sounds from you.
In his bed. Because of him.
He didn’t expect the lick of heat that curled up his spine at the shape of your legs and the curve of your ass as you were stepping out of your shorts. He’d never seen anything so strangely endearing as it was watching you shimmy your underwear off under the shield of his covers.
Every hitch in your breath made his blood run hotter in his veins. He was trying to control his cock, but he’d started getting hard the second you’d pulled your shirt off. Your bra was some kind of sheer thing that left nothing to the imagination, and while he wasn’t trying to check you out- because that’s not how it was between the two of you- he couldn’t help the way his eyes flickered down.
You’re slippery, wet, and warm. And he knows he can make you come again.
“Do you want me to use my fingers now?”
You crack an eye open at him, it’s the first time you’ve opened your eyes since he first touched you. Your eyes are bright in that way that only comes with an orgasm. “I thought you already were.”
“Such a smartass,” he grins.
Bradley changes the unhurried circles he’d been making on your clit to the upstroke that made your hips jerk up into his hand the first time he’d tried it. The little noises you’re making have him fighting the urge to grind himself against you for some relief of his own. He’s still got your knee tucked between his own; where there had been a hint of polite space between your bodies, the way you’re writhing now has him pressed up against your hip.
You gasp, breathily, “Oh, you’re hard.” The disbelief is evident in your voice, but it’s the look in your eyes that he doesn’t know what to make of, something like surprise.
He’s been trying to be a gentleman, this is about you and not him. There might not be anything romantic happening between the two of you, but this was hot and he was more than a little turned on. And he knows you are too because he can feel how wet you are under his fingers.
“’Course I am,” Bradley says, nudging his nose against your temple, “I’ve got a pretty girl in my bed half naked.” He didn’t want you to feel like you were in this on your own, so he lightly rocks against you. He wants you to feel him, he wants you to know he is into this too. “Are you ready more?”
“I’m ready, I want more,” you confirm, wrapping your hand around his bicep.
Your breath hitches as he teases you with just the tip of his finger.
He’s been told before he has big hands and thick fingers, he’s always taken it as a compliment in the past, but now he’s scanning your face for any trace of discomfort as he sinks one into you.
Your eyebrows twitch then smooth out and your mouth drops open as he starts pumping his finger into you in a smooth rhythm.
“That feels nice,” you sigh, airily.
He knows you like it when your hips tip up just a fraction. His comforter is bunched around your waist and your nipples are peaked against the see-through fabric of your bra. He gets his thumb on your clit and you whimper as you tentatively roll your hips against his fingers.
Bradley hums his approval, “Atta girl. There you go, find what feels good for you.” His voice sounds low even to his own ears, a throaty rumble. He feels you clench around his fingers and it sets his pulse racing. It’s a piece of information he tucks away for himself.
He’s gentle on your clit, but now that he knows you’re into it he’s setting a more purposeful pace with his fingers.
You’ve got your bottom lip pinned between your teeth, like you’re trying to swallow down your sounds. He didn’t realize how much he liked hearing these new sounds from you until you started trying to muffle them. On the next slide of his finger into you, he knows exactly what he’s looking for.
You suck in a sharp breath of surprise when he finds it.
“Is that the right spot, kid?” He sounds so smug. You curse and your hand clutches at his shoulder. “You want to try a second finger?” he murmurs into your ear.
“Yes,” you rock into his hand, “Yes, please.”
“Whatever you want, Miss Manners.” His chest feels like he’s taken a shot of Fireball. “You’re so polite when you’re trying to get your way.”
“I’m always polite,” you challenged weakly, pressing your head further into his pillow.
“Mhm,” he indulges, fondly, “You’re the sweetest girl I know.”
And then he fills you with two fingers.
“Jesus, Bradley,” you gasp, offering more of yourself to him.
Your nails dig into the muscle of his shoulder as he lets your whimpers and whines guide his hands.
The two of you have your eyes fixed on the way the tendons of the visible part of his forearm are flexing before it disappears under the covers as he works you.
Bradley curls his fingers into that spongy part of you and your hand flies to his wrist, gripping him tight. It makes him pause, worried that he might have pushed you too far too fast.
“No, no. D-don’t stop,” you plead, desperately, “I’m so close. Keep going, please.” You squeeze his wrist encouragingly.
“Sorry, sorry,” he soothes. He focuses his efforts on that spot again now that he knows you weren’t wanting him to slow down, but rather trying to hold him in place. His fingers inside of you and his thumb on your clit working in tandem to get you there again.
“I just- yes. Like that. Oh fuck. Keep doing that. Oh my god. Please, Bradley.”
He’s heard you say his name a lot of different ways, but never like this.
Your back arches and you twist yourself towards him, burying your face against him and keening into the hollow of his throat as you come around his fingers.
You jerk and writhe into his hand, your knee slips free of his and your thighs clamp together around him. Bradley rolls off the arm he’d been leaning on and brings it to cradle the back of your head, pulling you closer and holding you to him as he steadily works you through it until you’re loose-limbed in his arms.
He waits until your rapid pants have evened out before he slips his fingers from you. The displeased sound that you make makes the corners of his mouth twitch. He should have known you’d be bossy. He rubs gentle circles into the divots at the base of your neck as you come down.
Bradley can feel your lips graze the side of his neck when you finally speak, “So, um, let me know if you need a letter of recommendation or anything. I’d be happy to pass one along to your next partner.” You languidly prop yourself up on his chest and he notes with pride that you look a little flushed. “But, seriously, I get it now.”
He huffs a laugh as he toys with the end of your hair, “I’m glad it lived up to the hype. Well, at least that part of it.”
You press your lips together like you’re deciding something, tracing idle shapes on his stomach, and he can’t decide if he thinks you’re doing it without realizing it or if you’re the one doing the teasing this time. Your eyes flick down to his visibly hard cock and he feels his face heat up, “Can I?”
“Do you want to?” Bradley wants this experience to be everything you need and want it to be, but something about the tables turning here and the idea of you being the one to touch him like that makes his heart pound.
“I want to make you feel good too,” you softly tell him, resting your chin on your shoulder. The tender way you’re looking at him makes his teeth ache.
“Ok, but only for a little bit,” he agrees. Bradley knows he’s walking a tightrope with this, he’s aching and more than ready to be touched, but he doesn’t want to come all over your hand.
He plants his feet into his mattress and lifts his hips enough to pull off his boxer briefs, sighing in relief as his cock bobs free.
“That can’t be average,” you mutter under your breath.
He doesn’t know if you meant to have said it out loud but he smirks all the same, “I’ve never been average a day in my life, kid, Grade A student here.”
A groan slips out of him as your tentative fingers grasp his cock. There’s a lack of finesse in the way you touch him, your hand isn’t nearly as well-practiced as his own. He wraps his hand over yours, guiding your strokes as he shows you just what he likes.
“You can grip it a little firmer,” he coaches. You nod studiously, like you’re going to be tested on it later. Together the two of you work him from root to tip.
Bradley had never given much thought to his size until now. He knew he was big, but seeing that your thumb couldn’t reach the tips of your fingers when your hand was curved around him was an ego boost he didn’t know he needed.
You get more confident with every glide up and down the length of him. Your tricky thumb sweeps over the tip, collecting what precum had gathered there, and it makes your hand slide easier over him. When he accidentally thrusts into your hand, you grin and there are those dimples again.
“Ok, ok,” he blows out a shaky breath, stilling your hand with his. “We gotta stop or I’m going to come. And I’m not about to be a one pump chump.”
“It sounded like you’re more of a ten pump chump, if I remember correctly,” you tease, looking all too pleased with yourself. “Don’t worry, Bradshaw, your street cred is safe with me.”
He shakes his head in amused disbelief, “You’re such a goddamn menace. I knew I shouldn’t have told you that part.” He surprises the both of you when he wraps an arm around you and rolls to pin you under him.
And it’s like all the air is sucked out of the room because your thighs are cradling his hips and his cock is resting heavy on your stomach.
Neither one of you dare to move. He’d give anything to know what you’re thinking right now, he feels out of his depth as he watches you watching him.
His tongue feels thick in his mouth, “Are you on-”
You nod before he even finishes the question.
“Do you have-”
He nods before you finish yours.
“What did you promise me?” he prompts, squeezing the dip of your waist.
You hold up your pinky to him, “I’ll tell you.” He wraps his own crooked one around yours and gives it a shake.
Bradley doesn’t know what comes over him, but he drops a kiss to your shoulder as he reaches over you into the drawer of his nightstand to fish out what he needs. He’s thankful when you don’t comment on it because he wouldn’t even know how to explain it.
He leans back on his knees and rolls the condom on with practiced ease, then flicks open the cap to the bottle of lube he’s also grabbed and drizzles it over his cock.
“Am I not…” you trail off. He doesn’t think he’s ever heard you sound this shy with him before.
“You’re plenty wet,” he assures you, pumping himself- once, twice- just enough to coat himself, “But this’ll be good too. I think you’ll like it.”
Bradley settles back over you, one arm braced by your head and the other on your hip, as your hands come up to rest lightly on either side of his ribcage. He rocks against you to demonstrate; the head of his cock nudges your clit with each silky pass. You exhale heavily at the sensation as he eases you into the motion of it, as he shows you what it’s like with another person.
You’re holding him close, and in just a moment the two of you will be the closest two people can be.
He makes only enough room to reach down between your bodies, only looks away from your face long enough to line himself up with you. There is such trust in your eyes as you gaze up at him, it’s not something Bradley takes for granted.
You nod, your fingers stroking his sides.
God, does he want this to be good for you.
He takes a breath.
And then he’s shifting forward and pressing in.
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Bradley thrusts into you with all the careful gentleness you’d expect from him.
His thumb skimming along your forehead as he pushes in, in, in.
When he found that spot inside of you with his fingers, you thought you were going to fly away from the intensity of it, but then he’d pulled you into the safety of his arms and you felt like you could fall apart because he’d be keeping the pieces of you together.
He’s been so good to you. He is so good to you. He’s the best person you know.
The more of him he gives you, the less you feel like you can catch your breath.
You feel hot, hot all over. And much fuller than you’ve ever been.
Some sound must make its way out of you because Bradley offers you a low soothing noise before you feel his lightly chapped lips against your temple.
There’s something about this that reminds you of the time he tried to teach you how to skateboard. Always waited until you told him you were ready, until you found your balance. He’d held your hand as you cautiously rolled along the sidewalk, you were less worried about falling with him by your side. Only this time, his hand is on your waist and the only movements are his hips against yours as he rocks into you.
Little by little. Inch by inch.
You clutch at his biceps at the slight stinging sensation and you feel him hesitate.
“It’s just a lot,” you whisper. His fingers flex on your waist.
“You’re doing so good, just a bit more,” Bradley murmurs, encouragingly.
There’s pressure, there’s a give, and then there’s relief when his hips finally, finally meet yours.
“Shit,” he curses under his breath.
Your eyes had flickered shut somewhere along the way. You open them to see that Bradley’s face and chest are flushed pink, the muscle of his jaw flexing. The furrow between his eyebrows is so deep that you release your grip on him to smooth out the lines with an unsteady fingertip.
He reads the question in your eyes.
“You’re just really tight,” he grits out, voice strained.
You assumed that was a good thing, but he’s holding himself so tense above you that now you’re not sure. “Do I-,” you fumble over the words, “Does this feel good for you?”
He huffs an incredulous laugh, and brushes back some hair from off your face, “You feel really fucking good, sweet-”
Your whimper cuts him off when he pulls out a fraction and then pushes back in.
His brown eyes take you in as he does it again, more this time. Pulling out just a bit- just enough- and then filling you again. The discomfort fading more with each thrust as he guides his hips to yours until yours are tilting up to meet his seeking more.
It’s a conversation between your bodies, the give and the take of it all as Bradley introduces you to this new unspoken language. You feel yourself flutter around his cock, stretched wider than you’ve ever been.
You feel that heat spreading underneath your skin again as he surely and steadily pumps into you. It feels like your nerves are on fire. You didn’t expect to even come once and you’re well on your way to a third.
He reaches down and hooks your leg over his hip. His hand slides up along the outside of your thigh and under your ass, tilting your hips up towards his even more. He’s so much deeper like this. Your hands slide into his hair, tugging at his curls.
“Bradley, I-I think… I feel-”
 “You’re gonna come,” he rasps, nodding at you. Encouraging, coaxing.
He grinds his pelvis against your clit with every deliciously slow roll into you.
Your mouth drops open at the feel of it, it’s better than anything you’ve ever imagined. You don’t think your faces have ever been closer than they are now. Bradley is breathing your air, and you’re breathing his. Bradley’s pupils are blown wide, his heavy-lidded eyes are locked on yours. You didn’t know there could be so many shades of brown. His curls are a mess and it’s all because of you. He licks his lips and your breath catches in your throat when his eyes dart down to your parted mouth.
His next thrust into you hits that spot inside of you just so right that it has you gasping.
It’s so good, it’s too good, it’s overwhelming.
You wrap your arms around his neck clinging to him, your face buried against him. Bradley drops his head to your shoulder, you feel his lips brush against your clavicle. Your head moves away on instinct, making more room for him if he wants to do it again.
You get lost in the feeling of his cock hitting you in all the places you’ve heard about and read about, but have never felt for yourself until now. He’s still got your ass gripped in his hand, whereas your hands can’t stay in one spot. They’re tangled in his hair, running over his shoulders and down his abs, gliding over his back aided by the sheen of sweat he’s worked up.
You’re not trying to hold yourself back, but it feels like you’re standing on the tallest diving board at the pool, your toes curled around the edge, but still too nervous about the drop to jump.
“C’mon, kid. You’re right there,” he breathes hard, “I need you to come for me. Just one more.”
He gets his fingers back on your clit and it’s the end of you. Your back is arching so much you think you might snap. Your toes curl so tights they may never unfurl. The force your orgasm overtakes you, demanding everything you have up to offer and then some.
You hear Bradley’s moan as you pulse around his cock, trembling under him as the waves of pleasure wash over you. His hips stutter against yours, finally losing that steady rhythm he’d set, you pull him tighter to you and it’s not long until he comes too.
It’s all white noise. All you can feel is your heartbeat pounding, until little pieces of the world come back into focus.
The hum of the fan.
The beam of warm afternoon light through the blinds.
The smell of the now cold coffee on his nightstand.
In the after, you’re all too aware of every place your body is touching Bradley’s.
He’d somehow managed to roll on his back and had taken you with him. He was literally just inside of you, but yet it feels like your leg draped over his thigh is somehow more intimate. A prickly self-conscious feeling settles over you. Unsure of what the rules were for friends who just had sex, you attempt to peel yourself off of him, but the heavy arm over your waist keeps you in place.
“Come back here, kid,” Bradley mumbles, his eyes still closed, “I need to cuddle after I come, so I’m gonna need you to indulge me here for a moment.” He strokes a soothing hand down your back. And while he says it’s for him, you know he’s still trying to take care of you.
He hums when you lay back down. You set a hand on his chest. He reaches for it with his free one and threads your fingers together. It makes you melt further into him.
You feel a little different. But mostly, you feel like a weight you didn’t know you’d been carrying had been lifted off of you.
Your first time was everything you hoped it would be. You were safe and cared for, and you already knew, you’d never have any regrets about it. And it was all because of him.
“Thank you, Bradley,” you say, softly.
“Anything for you, kid.”
Your early morning catches up with you as you lay there, warm and secure. Your eyelids get heavier with each pass of Bradley’s hand along your spine. And you drift off to the sound of his heartbeat under your ear.
You’re still you. And Bradley is still Bradley.
It was just… something between friends.
A few hours later the two of you are still in his bed.
Only now you’re clothed and swapping the cartons of Chinese food that he’d ordered while you’d napped against his chest, and fighting over the fortune cookies watching some reruns of old sitcoms. You couldn’t hear their laugh tracks over your own.
The last couple of days you had at UVA fly by just as quickly.
You don’t know how, but the two of you managed to cross of all the things on his Spring Break To-Do List. And before you knew it you were back at the airport.
Bradley had insisted on walking you in, wanting to see you off.
Neither one of you has ever been good with goodbyes. So you don’t give him one, instead you reach for your bag and tell him, “Ok, see you in June.”
Bradley doesn’t let go, clearly confused, “What the hell are you talking about?”
You grin because it feels like a checkmate.
“You didn’t think you’d be getting that diploma all by yourself, did you?”
He looks thunderstruck.
You and your mom already had the plane tickets and hotel room booked. Your stepdad wouldn’t be able to come, but he was planning on sending your mom with one of the cakes from his family’s bakery. You’d been tasked with finding out what flavor, carrot cake or peanut butter- Bradley’s two favorites- but you could iron out the details with him later.
You’d had a busy week, plus it was more fun this way.
Bradley tugs you into his arms, yours wrap around him just as easily as they always have.
“June?” he asks into the crown of your head.
“June,” you promise.
And when he lets you go- for real this time- it’s with a smile that takes up his whole face.
He doesn’t say goodbye either, “Be good, kid. See you in June.”
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𝐍𝐎𝐖
You avoid Rooster for the rest of the night.
And Jake too, for that matter. Bless Javy for finding ways to distract him because you could tell than man was chomping at the bit for more details. But you’d already given him more than enough.
You could have lied, you probably should have lied. It might have been easier than feeling like you’d hung up part of yourself on the drying line for everyone to see. But in that moment, the thought of lying and saying anyone else’s name other than Rooster’s had made your stomach turn.
Because it was the truth, he was your first, but he was also your best.
When you come out of the bathroom, there’s no missing Rooster. He’s leaning against the wall by the entrance. It takes him a moment to notice you since he looks lost in thought, but when he does you feel pinned to the wall by the intense look in his eyes.
He stands to his full height as you approach, you know he wants to talk about it.
You shake your head at him, “We don’t need to do this.”
“No, kid, we really do.” He takes you by the arm and leads you to a quieter spot away from everyone else.
“It was just a game,” you start before he can, “And now I know more about everyone’s sex life than I ever wanted to.” He crosses his arms over his chest at your attempt at deflection. “Look, I’m really sorry if that was something you wanted to keep a secret or just between us. I should have asked you first if that was ok to share.”
“I don’t care about that.” Rooster waves you off and takes a step closer to you, his eyes searching yours. “All this time and I’m the best you’ve ever had?”
“Are we really doing this? Here and now?”
You peer around him to look and see if anyone is watching the two of you, it feels like a showdown. But all the Daggers are occupied, probably on purpose. You’ve never seen Mickey with such a serious look of concentration on his face.
“Here and now,” he confirms.
You feel flustered, “Rooster, it’s been 12 years and we haven’t talked about it once-”
“Bradley,” he cuts you off. He takes another step towards you, so you’re toe to toe with him. “I’ve always been Bradley to you.”
The tension that had crept up in your shoulders releases a bit.
“Bradley,” you say, softly. “Listen, I’ve had a lot of good sex since then. Great sex even.” He presses his lips together and nods. “And with other men, if I felt like they weren’t putting in their best effort I’d kick them out because the bar was set very high early on.”
You see him fight back a smirk.
“That’s my girl,” he murmurs, with pride.
Your breath gets caught in your throat, you know he hears it because his eyes take on a richer shade of brown. You both feel the shift, tension churning between the two of you.
Taking a deep breath, you continue, “But I was telling the truth when I said you were my best. Probably because of the way you made sure I knew that you cared. I don’t know how to describe it. It was just different with you.”
You feel his finger graze the back of your hand.
The sounds of the Hard Deck fade into the background as you stare at each other. Entire conversations are being had as you look into his eyes and he looks into yours. Words and sentences spoken with glances.
Just friends don’t look at each other like this.
“It’s never been like this,” you whisper, “We’ve never been like this before.” You gesture at how close he is to you.
How he’s almost got you backed up against a wall.
How he’s looking at you like you’re his.
“I know.”
He says your name and your heart somersaults in your chest.
“I want to see your tattoo. I keep finding myself looking for it when we’re all at the beach. And then I get annoyed, knowing that people have seen it and I haven’t.”
“My tattoo? Bradley, what-”
“I want to see your tattoo,” he repeats like it’s a fact. “And I want to punch Seresin in his smug face every time he flirts with you.”
You roll your eyes, “Jake doesn’t flirt with me, not really. He just likes riling you up.”
“What if I said I wanted to try this as more than friends.” Bradley settles a large hand on your hip. “What if I said that since you’ve moved here I’ve had a hard time keeping my head on straight.”
“Bradley.” His name falls out of your mouth so easily now that it can.
“I want to take you home with me. I want to kiss you. I want to make you come. I need to know if you sound the same in my bed. And then I want to take you out for breakfast and buy whatever fancy coffee you want and as many pancakes as you can eat.”
You’ve been told that you wear your heart on your sleeve, but he has always worn his on his face. There’s no mistaking the open want on his face.
“Bradley, it’ll be different this time.” For so many reasons.
Because it’s not a favor being asked. It’s not some new experience being tried with the person you trust the most, with everything. You’d be on equal footing. It wouldn’t be a friend helping a friend, the two of you would be crossing that line between friends and more because you want each other in that way.
“I want it to be different, sweet girl,” he says, cupping your face in his familiar hand, “I’m ready for it to be different, if you are.”
He looks from your eyes down to your parted lips.
“We didn’t do that last time,” you whisper. Feeling brave, you reach out and run your fingers along the buttons of his shirt.
“No, we didn’t,” he agrees. His eyes are trained on his thumb as he skims it under your lip. “And that’s a damn shame.”
Bradley’s face is all you can see. Warm eyes, a still-straight nose, and a soft smile that is for you and you alone.
He dips down and your eyes flutter closed, your head tipping up on its own in anticipation.
His lips brush your cheek. It’s not enough.
You tug on his collar, but he chuckles and kisses your cheek again, lingering longer this time.
“I’m not kissing you for the first time around the corner from a bathroom,” he rasps.
You open your eyes and see the amusement in his. He always did like teasing you.
“Oh, where do you plan on doing it then?”
“Outside your front door, like a gentleman,” he says, like it’s obvious.
You can’t help but grin because Bradley Bradshaw can’t wait the extra 10 minutes it would take to drive to his place instead of yours. He wants that kiss just as badly as you do. You watch as a matching smile to yours blooms across his face.
It feels normal to slide your fingers between his much larger ones. It feels right as you lead the way out of the Hard Deck with him only a step behind you.
As it turns out, he only makes it as far as the Bronco before he’s spinning you back towards him and pressing you against it. His hands are on your hips and yours are wrapped around his neck as he kisses you for the very first time.
Bradley kisses you like a man who knows what he wants. And what he wants is you.
It’s not tentative in the way that first kisses usually are.
He kisses you like he knows you.
Because he does.
Later, when he closes the door to the Bronco for you, it feels like the end of one thing. But as he slips his fingers into yours when he backs out of the parking space it feels like the beginning of something new.
That night tangled in Bradley’s sheets- he’d kissed you at every light which made those extra 10 minutes it took to get to his home worth it- he makes your back arch and your toes curl as he makes you come with his fingers and mouth and tongue and cock. His lips dropping kiss after kiss on every part of you that he can reach. Because he can, because you want him and he wants you. 
The way he touches you tells you that he remembers it all.
He was you first, but what you wouldn’t learn until later, is that he would also be your last.
And he’d be the only man to ever have your entire heart.
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Happy Birthday Jordan! An AU just for you! 💖 I adore you and I hope this year is the best one yet!
A big thank you to @callsignspark and @ofstoriesandstardust for their help and beta reading and their woogirling! I appreciate you two so much!
Author's Note: this was a "what-if" AU set in the 'Like I Can' universe! If you want to read about what really happens you can read it here!
You can read more of my stories here!
Taglist:
@gretagerwigsmuse @sehnsuchts-trunken  @callsignspark @notroosterbradshaw @tongue-like-a-razor @laracrofted @ofstoriesandstardust @bradshawsbitch @starryeyedstories @top-hhun-main @startrekfangirl2233 @callsign-viper @teacupsandtopgun @angelbabyange @oneelleandaneye @mizzzpink @cornishkat @alana4610 @20th-centu-fairy-girl @pono-pura-vida @donttouchmycarrots @eg-dr3amer3 @whaledots-blog @a-beaverhausen @hangmanscoming @mandolin22 @theweekndhistorybook @lilpeekabooze @high-bi-imgonnacry @ahintofkiwistrawberry @ruewrote @spiderman-stilinski @jayniebop @my-soulmate-is-mycroft @imaginecrushes @keyrani @chicomonks @artemissunn @mayempress @eddiemunsonreader
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momowritings · 3 days
Text
Love Bites pt. 2
When two worlds collide…
Baker Fem Reader x Toji Fushiguro
word ct: 15.1k, 11 Chapters
Preview: “I wasn’t joking about Megumi. He doesn’t smile often but he is one of the kindest kids in the class. He’s like a tiny adult. I think you’d like him.”
“Stop that! I barely know the man. I just—“
“You just add new items on the menu in the middle of the season for him to be the first one to try it. No big deal...”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Chapter Two: Chimayo Chai
Much to your dismay Toji visited the shop at least once a week with the same order. He always wanted to eat two of everything and a new drink to try, a drink that you had to choose for him. Your routine was set to where you had his boxes already waiting for him by the time he came in. 
“Can I ask you a question?” Toji stops and stares down at you. You roll the ties of your apron around your fingers to try to calm yourself. 
“Why do you order so much? I mean, you come in every week, but you don’t strike me as someone who has a sweet tooth.”
Once again Toji didn’t respond right away but you were used to it by now. Toji seemed to talk more when he was annoyed, so him being quiet was actually a good sign. 
“I give them to my son and… coworkers.”
“You have a son?” you perk up. “I didn’t know you were married.”
“I’m not.”
You cringe at his response. You didn’t mean to bring up an unpleasant memory for him but you could never seem to talk to him normally. 
“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that. I- Here’s your drink,” you sigh and hand him the latest fall drink on their menu, which is a Chimayo Chai. You hold the drink out and he takes it, lingering for a moment before speaking again. “He doesn’t like sweets either. My son.”
Your eyebrows knit together at his confession. “So it’s mainly just your coworkers who like sweets?”
Toji nods and finally takes the tea from over the counter. “They won’t shut up about them.”
“I love to hear that. I’ve been meaning to try more sugar and gluten free recipes. Maybe then you can enjoy them too.” You gave him a soft smile and the word “cute” flashed in Toji’s mind. He couldn’t even remember the last time he used that word willingly. “Oh, one more thing,” you say. “Next week on this day I won’t be here. The shop will be closed actually,” you mutter quietly. The words make Toji’s grip tighten around his cup and he waits for her to continue.
“It’s just for one day! I’m telling you because you always come in on Thursdays so I wanted to give you a heads up. I’ll close earlier on Wednesday but Friday will be open during normal store hours,” you smile and push your glasses up. 
“Why?”
You were hoping he wouldn’t ask that question. You really didn’t want to lie to him, but at the same time you didn’t have any idea who this man was, even if your interest in him piqued every time he walked in with his tieless suit and emotionless face. 
“I’m… visiting family,” you acquiesce. 
“For only a day?”
“Yes, that’s all I need.” 
Thankfully another customer broke their conversation with an announcement of their own. “Hey you, feeling old yet?” You smile at your tall friend who reaches over the counter to give you a tight hug. 
“My birthday’s next week, jackass. How have you been, Rina?” 
“Now I have to be more creative with my learning plans to keep the kids focused on their school work,” Rina dramatically sighs and her eyes trails over to the man she brushed past to say hello to you and her eyes widens.
“Oh Mr. Fushiguro! Funny seeing you here!”
“You know him, Rina?” This was getting ridiculous. How could an elementary teacher know a man like Toji?
“I teach his son, Megumi. He’s an absolute sweetheart. Quiet, but smart. He also loves all things related to frogs. Did I interrupt your conversation?”
“No, not at all. I’m sure Mr. Toji has other things to attend to. I’ll see you next week? Or maybe not, but soon?” 
“What drink is this again?” Toji looks down into the cup. 
“Chimayo Chai. You’re the first person I’ve made it for so far since it’s new on the menu,” you beam. “Let me know what you think when I see you again, okay?”
Toji nods and leaves without another word and Rina slowly turns to you with a smile pulling at her lips. 
“He’s single you know.”
“Rina.”
“And quite a catch. He shows up to all of Megumi’s events and the other PTA moms drool over him from a distance.” 
“Rina…”
“I wasn’t joking about Megumi. He doesn’t smile often but he is one of the kindest kids in the class. He’s like a tiny adult. I think you’d like him.”
“Stop that! I barely know the man. I just—“
“You just add new items on the menu in the middle of the season for him to be the first one to try it. No big deal,” Rina smirks and pops a piece of a muffin that she grabbed off of a rack into her mouth.
“Shut up. And I'm charging you for that.”
“Yeah yeah. Anyway, be sure to get ready for the school’s fall festival. Who knows, maybe Mr. Fushiguro will be there too.”
<<<Chapter One
Chapter Three>>>
46 notes · View notes
haechvn · 8 hours
Text
Dating Shuri Udaku Headcanons
Pairing: Shuri x F!Reader
Warning: Fluff, Toxic!Shuri, Angst and Smut since yall nasty asf
Summary/Request: I got so many requests for an update so here it is!
Word Count: 1k words
Author’s Note: I decided to make her mean since you hoes wanna be treated like shit or whatever. I'm getting back into my groove with this one for sure. 18+ MDNI fr or imma beat yall ass. NEED MORE SHURI GIFS WTH
Taglist: @inmyheadimobsessed @theblacksuccubus @melodykisses @blackhottie25 @tonakings @coalmistyy @szalipcombo @prettyluhlaiiii @yelenabelovasgf @callmeoncette @clqrosmgc @theblacksuccubus @cherios @shuris-whore @nut4shuri @gaspyghosttt @elliesdinosauar @idkhersposts @ziayamikaelson @trinthebean @sleepingnova @yunhofingers
Credits: @anitalenia for the super cute dividers get into itttt
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Fluff 
Cooks breakfast for you every morning after the two of you have sweet and reckless nights together 
Loves getting the two of you matching sets of grillz. Gold, silver, diamond studded. It doesn't matter
Brings you alongside her for all of her council meetings as she truly values your opinion and wants you to be involved and know your role in leading the nation with her
Has a throne for you next to hers 
Trains you with the Dora because she doesn’t want what happened last time with Namor to ever repeat itself
Buys you whatever you want right off each and every runway during all the major Fashion Week shows
Always get the biggest section when y’all got out and you betta be shaking that ass cause she gon be throwing them bills babyyyy
The amount of decorated hotel rooms you get from her is ridiculoussss. She’ll decorate a whole hotel for you just because she loved seeing your smile in the morning.
Always has her hand in yours no matter what the two of you are doing. Even hold your hand while you two brush your teeth
Never breaks eye contact with you while the two of you are speaking
Has more that 100 nicknames for you
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Toxic/Angsty 
Purposely starts arguments with you because it turns her on to see you riled up and she can’t stop thinking about you putting her back in her place
Used a bit too much of her strength on you during training and you had to stay in the hospital for a few nights. She locked herself in her room and couldn’t even stand to look at you when you were released. 
Sometimes she lacks empathy because she believes she’s gone through the worse shit. She definitely gaslights you sometimes and walks away if you complain to her about having family issues
“Wow. It’s so sad you argue with your mom everyday. Where’s mine? Oh yea right. I’m done listening”
Tries to deny that she felt anything for RiRi but will constantly talk about how beautiful she is just to get you jealous. You end up beating her ass bc wtf
One of those lesbians that doesn't like when you talk to other women bc why the fuck would you?
Will look you dead in the eyes and tell you that you aren’t more important than her work and you should just leave her alone and spend the money she gives you. She sent 2 mil to your account while you stormed out of the lab
She’ll deny you sex because she didn’t like the way you spoke to the Dora earlier that morning. You said hi 
She sometimes embarrassed by the lack of strength you have. Like tighten up tf
“Can you stop touching me? Even the Dora don’t smother me this much.”
Hates when you constantly run your hands through her hair like she didn’t just get it done
Kisses her teeth when you try to shake your ass and it doesn’t move the way she want it too
“Try harder maybe? Ugh just stop actually. You look cringe doing that” LIKE WHERE'S YOUR ASS MA'AM????
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Smut
Shuri likes when you eat her pussy with her panther suit on. Yes. That part is cut out 
She has different grillz for eating your pussy and then ones for eating you ass— SHE A BOTTOMFEEDAAAA
Shuri loves pressing her kimoyo beads against your clit and sending intense vibrations there. Rose toy who???
She eats your pussy at night sometimes because if you look hard enough while she’s making your head spin, her inner bottom lip glows softly with her vibranium tattoo, being the only source of light in the room
LOVES WHEN YOU DRILL HER SHIT TO THE POINT THAT SHE CANT BREATHE AND TRIES TO GRASP AROUND BUT SHE CANT BC THE VIBRANIUM CUFFS TOO STRONG EVEN FOR HER SO SHE HAS TO BEG YOU TO RELEASE HER EVEN THOUGH SHE KNOWS YOU WON’T AHHH
Can literally eat you out for hours and against your (consented) will, she definitely does
RIDES YOU IN THE NASTIEST SLOPPIEST WAY LIKE SHE LOVES SEEING YALL CREAM MIX AND IS OBSESSED WITH HOW STICKY SHE IS AND HOW MUCH STICKIER YOU ARE UGH SHE PRESSES HER LIPS AGAINST YOUR AS IF SHE CAN GO INSIDE YOU BYEEEEEEE
SHE AINT NO FAKE GAY NO MA’AM
Wakes you up most mornings with her lips sucking and teasing your breast bc babe she can’t get enough
BOTTOM!SHURI LOVES WHEN YOU SIT ON THE THRONE AND SHE TRIES TO MAKE HERSELF CUM OVER AND OVER RIDING YOUR THIGH WHILE YOU SIT ON HER THRONE OH WOW
SHE WHINES SO MUCH AND IS NOT QUIET AT ALL. Constantly getting complaints from everyone in the palace
Likes getting her ass devoured. SORRY NOT SORRY 
Kissing you alone get her wetter than river Niger omgggg (I’m African and this how we say it PLS)
Constantly talking you through EVERYTHING she does to you
“You take my fingers so well”
“Hmm, you know I love when you squeeze around me like that. Fuck, do that again.” (THE WAY SHE ROLLS HER R’S UGHHH)
“Please, I can’t take it. I-I… Fuck you feel so good. Don’t stop fucking me, put me in my place”
Never breaks eye contact with you when she’s drilling the shit out of you 
LOVES WHEN YOU FUCK HER FACE WITH ALL THE STRAPS SHES MADE IN THE LAB
Literally she’ll be in the lab with her goggles on with all her tools scattered all of the table and gets wet picturing you standing over her and using her mouth like a toy OMG
Loves when you tie her up with pink and purple ribbons and stuff her mouth with your panties BYE
LIKES BEING BLINDFOLDED AND WEARING FLUFFY EARMUFFS SO YOU CAN DO ABSOLUTELY ANYTHING TO HER AND GIVING YOU FULL CONTROL
WHITE FLUFFY EARMUFFS WITH PINK RIBBONS AND HER CURLY HAIR SHAKING AROUND EVERY TIME SHE MOVES
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31 notes · View notes
frozenjokes · 16 hours
Text
There Are Many Ways To Deal With The Awkward Tension Of Reconnecting With An Old Friend. Beating The Shit Out Of Each Other.. Is A Way
and also there’s mermaids
“Bdubs! Hello, hello, what are you up to today?” Scar laid across his bed, kicking his legs as he watched the trail cams sitting at his desk. There was a lot of shuffling on the other end of the phone, so Scar waited patiently, letting his mind wander. It had been a week since The Incident at the cove, but Mumbo still hadn’t resurfaced. Scar didn’t blame him of course, Mumbo was the flighty type and Scar himself would have been scared shitless if he had been there (and who knew what they were talking about; Scar’s cameras didn’t have sound), but Scar couldn’t keep himself from worrying.
He had driven out there the moment Etho left, of course he had! Grian made some excuse, as if Scar couldn’t tell when he was lying, but it didn’t matter, because Mumbo was back, and Scar didn’t need to be babysat anyway. Unfortunately, Mumbo hadn’t been around, nor had he been there the next day when Scar had made the trek, so instead he settled on watching the trail cams over the course of the next week. Of course, Mumbo hadn’t shown up, not even once. And Scar reviewed all the footage, even from when he was asleep or away from home- it wasn’t a crime to be excited about your friend, alright?
In the meantime though, since he couldn’t just watch his cameras all day, Scar spent most of his free moments terrorizing Etho.
“Scar! You’re on speaker, I’m watering my plants. Might be a little feedback, I’m moving around. As for plans, not much, but this is going to be the next hour of my life, so, there’s that,” Bdubs mused, and there was a lot of feedback. When Bdubs started to fill his watering can in the sink, Scar couldn’t even hear a thing.
“Perfect! I was just wondering, is Etho home?”
Scar guessed Bdubs didn’t hear much of what he said over the water, but Etho’s name was enough of a clue, Bdubs yelling across the apartment to where his roommate was probably lounging on the couch. “Etho? What do you want me to tell Scar?”
Bdubs shut the water off, and Scar heard the tail end of a groan. “That I’m not here. Bdubs, I told you that is always the answer, you do not have to ask me every time.” There was a bit more grumbling, but Scar couldn’t make it out.
“You might’ve changed your mind. I don’t know,” Bdubs continued, undeterred, “And I got two new plants I wanted to show him, I need help with names.”
“Why would you ask Scar of all people- his names are awful.”
“Hey!” Scar yelled to be heard, but he was deftly ignored.
“I like Scar’s names. They’re dumb, but always kind of sweet, y’know? And when I look at them and remember, it makes me smile.”
Scar preened, cutting in before Etho got another word in, “Why thank you! Yes Bdubs, I would love to come over and look at your plants. Can I invite Grian?”
The surprised silence was a little bit painful, but didn’t last long, “Grian? Sure, I don’t see why not! You guys talking again?”
“Ah- kind of. We’ve been stuck a little bit at the ‘sending cat videos over Instagram’ stage of things for about a month, but we’ve seen each other one or two times since then. Last week actually, we hung out for like an hour. It was nice.”
“Oh no.” A distant Etho said, and after a bit of feedback, Scar heard Bdubs respond sharply,
“Oh no, what?”
Scar cringed a bit, but Etho didn’t seem bothered, an accusatory edge to his voice, “I bet Scar tried bonding with his estranged friend by telling him about all his conspiracies! Just a week ago, that’s when this mermaid business started. Neither of us have even met Grian!”
“Scar wouldn’t do that.” Bdubs defended astutely, Scar following up with his own placating Noooooooo! to which Bdubs turned on him immediately. “Scar! You did not start sharing your Etho conspiracies with Grian, did you?”
“I would never! I would never, Bdubs, you think so little of me!”
“I am uninviting Grian. I can not deal with two idiots interrogating me about random bullshit. Mermaids, spies, aliens- offensive, by the way, Scar, nor was I grown in a tube.”
“I didn’t say you were an alien, just abducted at a young age! Also, that’s what a tube-grown clone would say, just you wait until I find your doppelgänger. I have a feeling you don’t remember, implanted memories and such, but once I get enough evidence you’ll see. Also you can’t uninvite Grian because I didn’t call you. I called Bdubs. And Bdubs invited him.”
“Bdubs! Uninvite Grian.”
“Oh..” Bdubs said, “But I’ve heard so much about him, I really would love to meet him! And you know I’d just love to show off the apartment, it’s been ages since anyone has come over, and so much has changed! Actually, I haven’t even seen most of my friends in like a month. You know, we need to do more group hangouts. I’m going to plan something. I’m going to do it right now.” Again, Bdubs turned on the sink to fill the watering can, and Scar missed 90% of what he was saying, though he did catch an exaggerated groan from Etho.
“Great! I’ll be right over! Unless you wanted to pick me up?”
Bdubs shut the sink water off. “I don’t. It’s a two minute drive, you’ll be fine.”
“See you in ten, then! It’s a lovely day for a walk.”
Bdubs scoffed, and Scar could hear the eye roll over the phone, “Enjoy, then.” Scar smiled, hanging up without another word, and gathering his things for the walk over, only glancing a normal amount of times at his monitor before slipping out the door. He lifted his phone to call Grian, but lost his nerve and texted him instead. They’d talked about this last night, so it wasn’t a surprise or anything; Grian had said that Scar clearly wasn’t any good at needling any information out of Etho, impatient as he always was, but Scar didn’t think Grian would have the tact for this kind of thing. Grian disagreed, and the arrangement was made.
Grian was utterly taken with the idea of a translator, a sentiment Scar didn’t entirely share. It would be nice, yes, and Scar would really love to know the things Mumbo had to say, but he was not optimistic about Etho agreeing to do something like that- he wasn’t even sure Etho knew the language at all. Despite him and Mumbo seeming to get along, that could have just been solidarity between the species, and even though Etho did just randomly show up as a human out of nowhere one day, Scar wasn’t entirely sure if the time before that was spent solely as a mermaid. There could be more than one mermaid language! He and Grian didn’t know anything at all, really.
And if all of these things lined up perfectly (which Grian seemed to think they would), getting Etho to do anything was still a fucking chore. Etho was a man of habit. Once he decided he liked something a certain way, he never wanted to change, and a lot of these little habits could be massive deals like: leaving the house! Most days, Etho did not leave the house, doing freelance work that facilitated that lifestyle (game testing/design/other programming work- Scar didn’t quite remember). When he did leave the house however, he only wanted to do so with Bdubs, holding Bdubs’ hand (his emotional support Bdubs; Etho’s words, not Scar’s), literally going nowhere without being within a few feet of Bdubs, as if the ground might open up and swallow him whole if his roommate strayed out of sight.
And it wasn’t entirely Etho’s fault. He was largely visually impaired, in part due to his albinism, and in other part due to the old injury that spanned across his right eye, leaving him mostly blind and practically devoid of any hand-eye coordination. Bdubs met him in a vulnerable time, so he’d kind of latched on, afraid of most other people for quite a long while, so Scar did understand, he did. However, sometimes Etho’s stubborn mannerisms could be very frustrating, especially since he was often opposed to any and all efforts to find him other accommodations.
Scar had been trying to convince him to get on the waitlist for a service dog for years (among quite a few other things), and that he would even help him train one from scratch (something Scar had always been interested in doing, and he had connections that could help him out), but Etho just wouldn’t budge. Bdubs really loved the idea, and the apartment they’d moved into a couple years ago had been explicitly picked because it allowed dogs, but alas, Etho was Etho, and whenever he and Bdubs made even the tiniest bit of progress to convince him, he would double right back weeks later.
This aversion to leaving the house did not, however, stop Etho from fucking off by himself constantly, which drove Bdubs crazy more than anyone else. If Etho was feeling nice, he’d give about a day’s advance notice, but half the time Bdubs would just come home from work to a note and an extremely unspecified time frame of when Etho would be back. That was part of the reason Bdubs wanted him to have a dog so badly; he really worried when Etho would go off by himself for days at a time, especially when he seemed to be so dependent on Bdubs so often. Though, Scar got the sense Bdubs was just as much an emotional support as he was a physical one, and told him as much on bad days when Bdubs couldn’t quite get out of his own head. Maybe that’s part of why Scar was so frustrated with Etho so often. It didn’t feel fair to Bdubs.
Still, what did Scar know anyway? Etho had been getting a bit better with his agoraphobia as well as general fear of literally everything, and in the past year he’d even gone out alone with Scar or Cleo; mundane things like taking a walk or grocery shopping, but monumental all the same. In hindsight, maybe the reason Etho was so opposed to a service dog was because of the part time mermaid business; he couldn’t exactly take it into the water or take care of it when he was away. Maybe the responsibility was too much pressure? Still, surely he had some control over when he was or wasn’t a mermaid; there had been someone else, someone he was coordinating with. Scar hadn’t known Etho had any other friends. Somehow, this felt just about as monumental as learning magic was real- maybe that was mean, but it was true. The stranger had been dressed oddly as well, though the robe was likely because mermaids didn’t really wear clothes. Pants probably wouldn’t end very well when you’re growing a tail.
He didn’t get much more time to think before he was at Bdubs’ and Etho’s apartment, taking the elevator up after he was buzzed in.
“Hello there!” he announced himself as he walked through the door, greeting Bdubs with a hug and Etho with a wave. He left Etho to whatever he was doing on his laptop, letting Bdubs sweep him away to the new members of the household. Scar named the cactus Squishy, which both of them found hilarious, and the vine Maple, for no other reason than it felt right. Grian arrived just a few minutes later, just as Etho was making sandwiches and Bdubs and Scar were chatting at the kitchen table, but Bdubs got up to greet him, his natural smile coming through. Scar’s own smile fell strained, his fingers curling against the grained wood as he fought to stay seated. Maybe Etho heard the squeak of his chair or his nails against the table, because just a moment later he was behind Scar, setting a plate on the placemat in front of him, and trailing a hand over his shoulder as he returned to the kitchen island. About the extent of Etho’s physical affection, and a gesture Scar appreciated deeply. After setting down two more plates; one for Bdubs and one for Grian, he sat by Scar’s side, leaving the chairs opposite from them open.
Bdubs and Grian didn’t join them immediately, Bdubs eager to give his tour, so Scar found something else to talk about while they waited, Etho offering his own sparse input while he played solitaire instead of eating, the cards laid in place of a plate. Scar wondered absently if Grian’s heart clenched like his did when he heard the other’s voice, or if there was just something wrong with him. He noticed Etho staring from his good eye, though had trouble reading him. Etho never did emote very much, and in combination with the mask, it wasn’t easy. On the other hand, Scar was sure Etho saw right through him.
“How do you like your sandwich?” Etho asked, turning back to his game, though it was quite obvious Scar hadn’t touched it.
“I was waiting,” he said, feeling a bit awkward, but Etho shook his head.
“Don’t.” There was intention there, so Scar didn’t fight him, getting the sense Etho was trying to tell him something he just wasn’t understanding. Maybe he looked less like a kicked puppy when he was eating. Or maybe Scar was just reading too much into it, and Etho just wanted to know how he liked the sandwich. But then again, Etho didn’t ask a second time.
It wasn’t long before Grian and Bdubs joined them though, Scar not noticing at all that Grian chose to sit across from Etho instead of him, but he didn’t get the chance to linger, not with Bdubs’ bright conversation and Etho’s small banter. It was nice, homey.
“So.” Etho started suddenly, Bdubs’ prior story hardly having ended before he spoke up, “When’s the interrogation? You’ve got me on the edge of my seat here,” he said, visibly relaxed as he continued his game, “Still on mermaids, or is it something different? It’s gotta be an event to have invited a partner in crime.”
Grian looked surprised, giving Scar a startled look that made him laugh, “Of course it’s still mermaids, we know, Etho, so it’s best if you admit it now. You’ve got a part time ocean job! That’s where you’re always disappearing to, obviously.”
“I- seriously? Scar, you told me I lack subtly! I didn’t think he knew yet!”
Etho laughed, and Scar did as well, giggling over his mostly eaten sandwich, “I did not say subtly. I said tact. How else am I supposed to get Etho to admit he’s a mermaid if I don’t tell him I think he’s a mermaid?” Scar began eying his glass of water, inching his hand toward it, but faster than a flash, Etho caught his wrist.
“Not again.”
“Not- Scar?” Grian squeaked, Bdubs scoffing in turn.
“Please don’t make another mess, I do not need to ask our neighbors to borrow a mop for the third time this week. If you aren’t going to finish it, water goes in the sink.”
“It was an important experiment!” Scar threw up his hands, Etho’s still attached to his wrist, “The first time could have been a fluke! He’s got to turn into a mermaid somehow!”
“If only it was that easy,” Etho said dryly, and laughed when Grian gaped at him, elbowing Scar, “Your friends are so gullible.”
Scar rolled his eyes. “Okay, in Impulse’s defense, you really played into the abducted by aliens bit- he was concerned! He really thought you were being experimented on!”
“Yeah,” Etho sighed, content, “That was hilarious.” He stopped for a moment, letting go of Scar’s wrist to take the glasses of water to the kitchen island, “This is too dangerous, actually. I will now be removing the temptation.”
“He doesn’t trust me,” Scar side eyed Grian with a small smirk, satisfied when Grian let out an exasperated groan.
“Is this what you’ve been doing all week? Just pouring water on Etho’s head? No wonder he hasn’t admitted anything! Is- do you guys just do this constantly? Make up reasons for his disappearances? No wonder he’s not taking you seriously! Have you even brought up the trail cams yet?”
The entire room froze, like time had completely halted. Bdubs’ eyebrows furrowed, giving Scar a confused look, while Scar put his head in his hands. “..No tact.”
“What?” Grian looked briefly panicked, his voice pitching up an octave, “Did I say something I wasn’t supposed to? What- Scar, why didn’t you tell me? What else haven’t you said?”
Etho hadn’t turned around from his place at the island, just standing there, staring stiff straight ahead. “What cameras, Scar?”
Ah. Yeah. The exact kind of bad tone Scar was really hoping to avoid today and also forever.
“Scar,” Bdubs said darkly, always quick to the defense, “You have not been stalking Etho, have you? You have videos of him?”
“No- It’s not like that, Bdubs, I was watching something else- they’re trail cameras, they’re for animals, the fact that Etho was on them was just chance! I promise I wasn’t deliberately looking out for anyone, it just happened that-“ Scar grit his teeth, struggling to fix this before Bdubs actually caught wind of what was going on, “There’s nothing actually on them. I was hoping to get some cool footage of the deer in the forest preserve by the lake, the one without trails or anything. Just saw Etho through one of them, thought it was an odd coincidence. I know you’re very particular about your privacy, Etho,” Scar shot Grian a sharp look, Grian not getting the message in the slightest and bristling through his panic.
“You didn’t tell me-“
“Sorry.” Scar interrupted him through gritted teeth, “I shouldn’t have shown anyone. Just got excited, I wasn’t thinking. Thought you met one of my friends, that’s all.” If there was any doubt about exactly what Scar and Grian had seen before, now there was none, as obvious as the tenseness in Etho’s back when Scar said the words out loud. Bdubs noticed it too, of course he noticed. Scar just hoped he didn’t pick up on the hurried lie.
“You should go.” Bdubs said, just as tired as he sounded angry, but his voice softened when he turned to Grian, “I’m really sorry. Now’s just a bad time.”
“I understand,” Grian got to his feet, looking relieved for an excuse to run, “I didn’t realize.. I’m sorry. Your apartment is lovely, truly, and lunch was great as well. Thank you.”
“Scar.” Bdubs turned a glare his way, and Scar was up and away in the same moment, passing Grian on his retreat to the door. For a moment, Scar considered taking the elevator, then came to the conclusion that nothing would be worse than getting in a small box with a furious Grian. Unfortunately for him, Grian followed him down the stairs, and not even his own long legs could keep him far enough from his wrath.
“Scar.” Grian’s venom was a quiet hiss, potent enough to knock him over, “What was that? Seriously! What the fuck? Why didn’t you tell me you hadn’t said anything! I didn’t realize you were just poking fun all week! I thought you were serious about this!”
“I thought- I thought- I don’t know! I thought we were just going to hang out, have a little fun! I thought you might want to meet Etho and- I don’t know! I didn’t expect you to say anything in front of Bdubs, come on! I didn’t think I had to tell you! I just thought you would know that!”
“You don’t think Bdubs knows?”
“I- Grian, of course he doesn’t know! What gave you any impression he did?”
“You- seriously!? You’ve been telling me all week about this friend that disappears or locks himself in the bathroom for days at a time and you don’t think his roommate who you tell me he’s extremely codependent on has any idea? I don’t believe that at all!”
“Etho is very protective of his privacy, Grian, and Bdubs respects that. I promise you, he doesn’t know. Etho takes his secrets to the grave.”
“I just don’t believe it. I don’t.”
“Come on, Grian!” Scar didn’t mean to shout, but he wasn’t very sorry either. Grian only came down harder on his heels, nearly tripping him down the stairs.
“What? What?” Grian growled, stomping as he went, “This is insane. You’re just expecting me to accept that Bdubs asks zero questions? That Etho just doesn’t eat when he’s locked himself up? You told me Etho can’t drive, so how does he get from place to place when he’s got to go to the water?”
Scar seethed, and it took all of his self control to keep walking. “It’s nice to hear you know more about my friends than I do, Grian. If you must know, it’s been quite a point of contention for them for years! Maybe you have to stick your nose where it doesn’t belong to get information out of your friends, but mine actually like to talk to me, so I’d appreciate it if you believed me when I tell you for certain Bdubs doesn’t know, and even if I didn’t explicitly tell you not to say that shit, maybe it should have been common sense!” Scar stepped hard onto the lobby’s landing, huffing as he strode toward the front entrance, but was stopped short as Grian grabbed the back of his jacket, yanking hard.
“So this is my fault now? Go on, Scar, if you’re thinking it, then say it. Turn around and say it to my face. Say it!”
“What’re you gonna do,” Scar scorned, pushing Grian off his back, “Throw a fit in the lobby? Hit me? You don’t even care about Etho, you’re just interested in what he can give you. People like you are the reason he has to hide.”
“I hope you’re not implying what I think you are, Scar.” Grian’s eyes were dark, but Scar couldn’t have given less of a fuck.
“Come on,” Scar sneered, “Don’t think I didn’t notice. The minute you stopped looking at Mumbo as a way to make a quick buck, you stopped caring altogether. You didn’t even want to see him when he came back! He’s not worth your time anymore. No one’s-” Grian reared back, and Scar didn’t get to finish before Grian nailed him in the jaw, sending him stumbling. And fuck if it didn’t feel good.
Scar saw red, lunging forward and grabbing fistfuls of Grian’s sweater before shoving him to the ground. Grian did not go down easy, kicking forcefully at Scar’s legs, then getting ahold of his shirt and dragging him the rest of the way down with a strength Scar didn’t know he possessed.
“You hurt me!” someone wailed, and after a moment, Scar was pretty sure it was him, only nearly rolling out of the way as Grian threw another punch.
“I want to!” Grian shrieked in return, winding back, but Scar kicked him before he could finish, leaping on top before he could sit up. Grian battered Scar’s stomach with his legs, and Scar found himself wrestling blindly on the floor, clawing at skin and sweaters for any purchase at all. The ding of the elevator stopped both of them in their tracks. Scar was only aware he was on top, only aware his hand was raised when someone grabbed it, yanking him up and right out the two sets of front doors. Scar just let himself be dragged to his feet and away, bodily awareness returning slower than the time it took him to walk an entire block. He only realized Grian was trailing after them two blocks later. Them. Etho, walking so far ahead of him, the two of their arms were taut. He did not speak. He did not look back. Well. Scar was a little too in shock to do either of those things anyway.
Etho brought them to one part of the forest preserve close to their houses, the least populated part, typically known for its unkempt trails and thin walking paths with not much to see, so, perfect for being yelled at probably. Which Etho seemed eager to do, since they didn’t even get five feet onto the trail before Etho turned, still aggressively holding Scar’s hand. The few seconds he waited for Grian to catch up were some of the tensest in Scar’s life.
“It is just my luck,” Etho began, and Scar was pretty sure he’d never been more afraid in his entire life, “That I happen to know the two idiots in the entire country who’ve befriended a fucking mermaid.”
Scar didn’t say a word. Neither did Grian.
“Does anyone else know?”
Scar looked at Grian. Grian looked at Scar.
“No,” Scar said.
Etho sighed raggedly, shoulders falling, “Okay. Okay. I need you to tell me exactly what was on those cameras. And if you haven’t deleted the footage, you will. Actually, I’d like to go to your place and watch you delete it. I need. The peace of mind.”
Scar looked at Grian. Grian looked at Scar.
“Will one of you two just talk to me?”
Scar pursed his lips, looking at Grian. Grian looked right back. Scar glanced guiltily at Etho, then right back to Grian, and Grian looked-
“Scar. Scar. Tell me what you saw.”
“Uh-” Scar startled, finding this a little unfair since he had answered the last question, but Etho was very scary and looking at him expectantly, so there wasn’t much else he could do, “We saw you and Mumbo. The mermaid. And we saw you laying on the beach for a while. And then Mumbo came back, and you didn’t look so good. And there was that other guy-”
“So you saw everything,” Etho cut him off flatly, looking tired. Scar nodded feverishly, and beside him Grian did the same. Etho let go of Scar’s hand, only to put his head in his own. “What are the chances.”
“Do you speak his language? The same language as Mumbo?” Grian piped up, and Scar shot him a startled look, to which Grian glared back, to which Scar glared back, to which-
“Uhm,” Etho sounded confused, removing his hands from his face, “Yes? I imagine we grew up in the same place.. Don’t ask questions about where I’m from. Actually, don’t ask me anything at all. Don’t talk to me.”
But Grian lit up, eyes shining brighter than Scar had ever seen them, “I told you!” he shot back at Scar, who folded his arms, but Grian was not deterred, turning back to a frightened looking Etho, “Will you teach me? I want to learn it, I want to talk to him. I want to know what he’d say to us if he could- so you grew up a mermaid? You learned English! Could you teach him English? I- I mean we’re already teaching him, but it would be so much easier if you could help us!” Grian cut himself off, looking sheepish before continuing, “Is he- do you know if Mumbo’s actually a guy? I mean, I doubt he cares what we call him, but I was just thinking about that the other day, we don’t actually know.”
“I- no? No, no, and no, no, I am not doing any of that. Why do you even-? No. And Mumbo isn’t anything, we don’t do gender, but he did tell us he liked the pronouns you gave him, so hey, there you go.”
“I-I want to thank him! And I want to tell him I’m sorry.”
Etho stared for a moment, stunned, and Scar found himself similarly shocked, giving Grian his own wide eyed stare. “That’s.. Sweet,” Etho finally said, conflict creasing his brow. “Well.. thank you is,” ‘Thank you,’ “and I’m sorry is,” ‘Sorry.’ Etho snapped as he whistled, presumably in intervals where a mermaid would have clicked. “I guess I can send Scar voice memos if you want them, but full offense, I do not want your number.”
“What?? Why not!”
“I think you’re going to be very annoying.”
Scar snorted, and Grian snapped to face him, looking about two seconds away from committing manslaughter, but he seemed to calm himself down enough to speak to Etho again. “Okay. Fine. Then tell me how to say ‘I’m sorry I took advantage of your trust and tried to shoot you in the face.’”
Etho, deadpan, started to translate, but Scar interrupted him with a startled, “You did WHAT?”
“Yeah,” Grian said, the notes in his voice all casual. He looked at his nails, almost bored, “Came out right after he bit you. He had no idea. Wanted to know what it was I was holding.”
“I- I can’t believe you! And you never told me? What else have you done and never said a word about?”
“Wouldn’t you like to know.”
“Okay, enough of this, I don’t care,” Etho pushed between them in a forceful huff, “Scar, take me to your house. I’ll send you the thing for Grian later, and as an apology for screaming at each other so loud we could hear you on the fourth floor, you’re going to walk me home. And never talk about this ever again.”
“Okay, wait, I don’t actually want to say that to Mumbo-“
“Come on then.” Grabbing at Scar’s hand, Etho started to drag him the other direction, ignoring the offended sound Grian made behind him.
“I’m not just going to go away.” Grian huffed, following at Scar’s heel, “We have to walk the same direction. And I don’t agree to these terms either, I have quite a bit to say to you.”
“Annoying.” Was all Etho had to say to that, and Scar could hear Grian seething behind them. He wasn’t about to push his luck with Etho though and stayed quiet, walking at his side instead of awkwardly behind him. Grian (pointedly, Scar imagined) didn’t even stop when Scar and Etho turned off onto the street that led to Scar’s house, not looking their way or saying goodbye, and most definitely pissed off this didn’t go his way. Scar was glad for it. He was glad to be right. He was glad to feel ugly.
Etho stuttered to a stop when he reached Scar’s desk, and Scar only remembered now that he should probably feel embarrassed about this. Even Grian had been surprised and possibly a little concerned, but sue Scar for caring about his friends! Four cameras displayed on two separate monitors wasn’t even that many. It was like he was the only person on the planet that thought mermaids were cool!
“This is.. Wow, Scar.” If Etho was trying to hide how judgemental he sounded, he was doing a poor job, but then again, it was Etho, so he probably didn’t care to preserve Scar’s feelings. “This is always going?”
“Yeah.” Scar said shortly, sitting down to pull up the footage from the prior week, and aching at the thought of deleting it. And he would, obviously he would for Etho, it was just.. the first videos he had of Mumbo. It didn’t matter how grainy the footage was, it was Mumbo, and he was coming back, coming home to see them. God Scar wanted to see him. But honestly, it would probably be best for Mumbo as well if no photos or videos of him existed anywhere. The last thing Scar wanted was for something awful to happen to him. “Here it is,” Scar leaned back, showing Etho the sped up clip. In the end, it didn’t matter much if Scar deleted it; he’d already watched the whole thing like a hundred times, basically committing it to memory.
“You really did see everything,” Etho breathed, and Scar nodded numbly, chin resting on his hands as he watched. “I gave Mumbo quite the fright. I feel a little bad about it.”
“You should feel bad. He hasn’t come back.” Scar had to fight to keep his voice even, but Etho wasn’t stupid, looking a bit awkward as he shifted his weight.
“Sorry ‘bout that. I didn’t know. I mean, I really didn’t know, obviously, but if it helps you feel any better, I doubt he’ll be gone for long. He really likes you guys, was excited to show you all the stuff he brought up from deeper waters.” Etho paused for a long moment, staring at his hands. Earlier in the week, they had painted each other’s nails, and the paint on Etho’s was already chipping. He always did enjoy peeling it off.
“You could apologize yourself, y’know. Come out and see him, at least once.”
“Ehhh,” Etho shrugged his shoulders close to his body, his frown evident even through the mask, “I don’t know about that, Scar. I doubt he likes me very much anymore anyway. Mermaids can be jumpy things, and he was very kind, but nervous. He didn’t like Joel at all, which is reasonable; there’s not a single person on the planet that likes Joel, and that’s the way he prefers it. I just mean to say he probably associates the two of us now, and even if he liked me before, he probably sees me as a threat now. If you think about it, we kinda came in and trashed his safe place with a bunch of bullshit. He will not be pleased.”
“Joel.. The other guy? Your secret friend?”
Etho snorted, “Friend is a strong word.”
Scar frowned, worry creasing his brow. Etho seemed a little alarmed by the expression, but Scar spoke before he got the chance to backpedal, “Is.. Who is he, then? Is he..” Scar trailed off, searching for the right word. It was a little hard to get over how uncomfortable Etho looked before the change, and even afterwards, Scar couldn’t imagine it being anything less than painful, “hurting you..?” Scar decided on, and Etho looked away, back to the screens.
“It’s complicated. Joel’s a weird guy,” Etho didn’t look very much like he wanted to elaborate, but Scar’s supremely Unsatisfied With That Answer face seemed to convince him, “Joel is.. I don’t know. He lives on a small island off the coast, concealed from most human sights; maps, satellites, and such. I believe he was cursed, or maybe banished there at some point- even knowing him for so long, most of the details are unclear. I don’t even know if he was ever born, or just- made by someone else, messing with forces they definitely shouldn’t. All this to say, I don't think he has parents, and it's quite up in the air about whether or not he has a conscience either. He doesn’t really see the world or the people in it as anything beyond how it can entertain or benefit him. So when I ended up washing up at his shores, he thought he might be able to use me to escape. Get off the island, you know? He was half right.”
“Do I need to beat the piss out of this guy?”
“No,” Etho said, all too simply, “He’d probably just wipe you off the face of the Earth, literally. I don’t know exactly what he is, but he’s got some sort of power over the island. You’ll never see it, he would never let you, but the place he’s made for himself is beautiful. He doesn’t do much else besides terraform it and watch unsuspecting ships crash into it and laugh at them; really, he’s not a pleasant guy. Extremely arguably not human, either. I don’t know much about it, I’ve never gotten to meet his.. relatives. Heavy quotes there. Doubt they’d be very pleased that the embodiment of pure evil they created found a way to leave the little island prison he is confined to.”
Scar stared, pretending to understand any of that made any sense. “This all makes perfect sense to me.”
Etho scoffed a small laugh, “Welcome to the club. Imagine that’s your only exposure to ‘humanity’ for two years, and then you finally get out into the real world and realize that actually magic doesn’t exist anywhere and that guy that peeled you off the rocks was an outlier. Anyway, it was pretty cool to figure out people were nice. But yeah, basically, my understanding of what he did to me was split our souls? We share them, kind of, which means a whole lot of bullshit, but mainly it means that he doesn’t start melting every time he sets foot off the island. He doesn’t melt at all as a mermaid, though he’s just about as reclusive as it gets, so he hangs around anyway, terraforming the underwater bits of his island. Apparently there’s a lot of safeguards meant to keep him trapped there, but they don’t account for species changes. And no, I don’t know why I don’t melt. He thought I would for ages, but apparently spellwork attaches to people specifically, and doesn’t transfer over soulbounds? I don’t know.”
“You’re losing me here, Etho.”
“Yeah. That's about 80% of the reason I didn’t tell Mumbo anything. Because then he’d ask questions, and I’d just have to shrug my shoulders and say I don’t know, because literally, I do not know. I’ve just started accepting these things as they happen to me. It really doesn’t help that Joel is a compulsive liar. But I guess to kind of answer your question, no, this was not voluntary, and I have very little control over whether I’m human or not. Joel has too much power over me for me to call him a friend, but as a placeholder, it works. I wouldn’t go back though, if you were wondering. To being a mermaid. I’m happy, much happier than I was in the ocean; I just couldn’t quite find my place. And you guys have computers, seriously, that shit is awesome.” Scar thought he saw a ghost of a smile under Etho’s mask, but it quickly vanished, “Of course, my life is now in serious jeopardy, but if all else fails, I guess I’ll just go back to the island and live there full time again.” Etho shrugged, and Scar frowned, fidgeting.
“We aren’t going to tell anyone, Etho. I can promise you that, really. Neither of us have said a word about Mumbo- we both know what could happen. I don’t want either of you to be killed or sold off somewhere or anything, especially not you, god.” Scar paused, closing his eyes and bracing himself, “And I.. I really think you should tell Bdubs.”
“No.”
“Come on, Etho, just listen-”
“No. And that’s the end of it. I don’t care who it is or how much I trust them or even the extent they would go to keep this secret a secret, I will not take any risks. And Bdubs respects that, he respects that some things I’d rather keep to myself, so it’s none of your business whether I tell him anything at all. You don’t get a say, not when your life isn’t on the line. I have very little control over my life, Scar, and now there’s two more people out there that have more power over me than I do. So if you really love me, you won’t say a word about this ever again.”
“I-” Scar looked helplessly at his hands, unable to look Etho’s intensity in the eyes. “Okay. I’m sorry. I won’t ask again.”
Etho’s shoulders relaxed substantially, and he closed his eyes for a long while, silence slowly chipping away at the tension. Scar didn’t dare break it. Eventually, Etho did so himself, “And Joel’s alright. He’s not alright for you or anyone else, but he’s alright for me. I like him. He really likes me; a bit clingy, honestly. He doesn’t really.. he doesn’t know how to respect me as a person, but he’s trying. It’s easy enough to ignore. We get along, so it's nothing for you to worry about. But if it’s okay, that’s all I really want to talk about him right now.” Etho quieted, and Scar nodded, not entirely knowing what to do with this.
“I’m sorry,” he said instead, “I’m sorry this happened to you. And I.. I mean, I don’t understand it all, but I hope you’ll find a bit more power over your own life.”
Etho nodded, but in acknowledgment rather than agreement, “I won’t.”
There was nothing else to say. Scar deleted the footage without another word, showing Etho in every way he could manage that it was gone, not because the other asked, but because he wanted to. He wanted Etho to feel safe. Though, no matter how long Scar scoured his face, it was impossible to tell.
“Alright,” Etho stood a little straighter after it was done, “I’m going to head out now. I know I asked you to walk me back, but I actually think I’d rather be alone right now. Thank you, Scar.”
Scar blinked, surprised, “Are you sure? Bdubs wouldn’t mind driving over if you wanted him to. He’s probably worried, you know how he gets.”
“I want to be alone right now.”
And that was that.
The front door clicked shut as Etho exited, not even wanting to be walked to the door, and Scar was left to lay in bed and sit on everything he had learned. None of it made any more sense with the passing of time, and Scar felt so overloaded with information, he was finding it easier just to accept it all without question. My friend was a mermaid. Still is, but part time. He’s got some sort of magic bond with some freak that treats him poorly, but apparently they hang out just fine. Friend might be a demon. Those might as well be real. Magic is real. Kind of. Scar wasn’t sure if that one would process in his brain anytime soon. And how did this damn island work? If people disappeared on it, surely someone would notice eventually. Surely the government knew, or something. Maybe the government already knew magic existed. They must, right?
It kind of sounded like Joel killed people. Was anyone going to do anything about that? Damn, if Etho ever decided to talk about any of this stuff, that would be the craziest rage room session of all time. He wouldn’t, though. A shame.
At this point, Scar kind of felt like his brain was going to explode, so he simply stopped thinking about it. Unsuccessfully. Then he laughed out loud when he imagined trying to explain everything Etho had told him to Grian. Grian the control freak, who needed to know every detail in order to be satisfied, who would needle you for hours if that’s how long it took him to get the facts straight. Grian was a pretty good mediator among their many interconnected friend groups for that reason; he came with his own biases of course, but when it came down to it, he just wanted to get the whole story, and that was useful for working out miscommunications.
Grian. Nothing about him was satisfying. God, Scar was angry, he was so angry, and that felt bad, but so much better than being sad and awkward all the time, and suddenly Scar wanted nothing more than to be back on the dingy carpet of the apartment lobby, hissing and grunting and beating the piss out of each other; finish what they started. But he couldn’t exactly do that, so he took a shower about it instead, head resting idly against the tile as the water ran down his back. About an hour of that passed before he got bored of it, so he got out, not even remembering if he washed his hair, and collapsed once more onto his bed. The thought still hadn’t left his head. He eyed his phone dangerously.
Etho had sent him a text telling him he got home safe, no doubt sent after Bdubs pestered him to do so. Pearl had asked something about needing to buy some more supplies for the sanitation department at the zoo, which Scar okayed without even looking at the list. He opened Grian’s messages.
‘Are you sober?’ Scar watched the screen idly, eyes half lidded, but perked up a bit when Grian answered quickly.
‘yes? it’s 3:00 Scar’
‘why.’
Scar typed and deleted the message for five whole minutes, struggling to put his thoughts to words. Well. At this point, there was no sugarcoating this.
‘I want to fight. And then get very drunk. And then maybe fight again. And then throw up probably’
‘We didn’t get to finish’
‘would feel irresponsible asking if you were not sober’
‘how sweet’
‘I’ll be right over. I want to trash your house’
‘I did not invite you.’
Grian did not respond. Scar didn’t need to wait more than a minute before knowing he wasn’t going to. Fine then. Good to know he wasn’t the only person here that was fucked in the head.
And ten minutes later, Grian was knocking at his door. Knocking continuously, obnoxiously, until he seemed to remember Scar had a doorbell, and then he focused most of his energy on ringing that a thousand and one times. By the time Scar made it to the door, Grian had evolved his strategy to do both at the same time. Scar flung the door open to a smug looking Grian, and promptly slammed it in his face the moment he moved to step inside. The muffled yelp through the wall was deeply satisfying, and when Scar reopened the door, Grian was cradling his nose. Scar couldn’t help but crack a smirk.
“Not so smug now, are you?”
Grian opened his mouth to speak, once again moving to step forward, but Scar slammed the door closed again, pushing with his whole body in the case Grian tried to stop it with his hand, then cackled when Grian yelped a second time, his shoes scuffing on the pavement outside.
“You are SO childish!”
“And you’re a damn bore.” Scar began to open the door once more, but was surprised when Grian burst through it, grabbing Scar by the collar and yanking him down so hard their heads collided, both of them reeling, but Grian not letting go. The silence was long as they both recovered, heads still close enough that Scar could smell Grian’s ragged breaths.
“You.” Grian pushed out through gritted teeth, “Smell nice.”
Ah! So he must have washed his hair after all. “Just showered,” Scar said simply, and Grian sniggered, glaring through narrowed eyes.
“For me?”
“Not quite. Just had to after touching you, makes me feel dirty. Doesn’t matter how often you shower, you’ll never stop smelling like fish-“ Scar didn’t quite get to finish, Grian slamming him against the wall opposite of the front door, which, by the way, was still wide open.
“I wonder how long it’ll take you to start smelling like manure again. Guess we’ll find out when you start to sweat.”
“I suppose we will. Mind closing the door?”
“What, afraid someone’ll see you getting your teeth kicked in?”
“Yes, actually, I’d rather not have the police called on us, thank you very much.”
“That’s a risk I’m willing to take.”
“Fuck off.” Scar shoved hard, and Grian stumbled back against the amour by the door, knocking the keybowl clattering to the floor. Scar shut the door, eying Grian smugly, “Did you really think I wasn’t letting you hold me? Come on G, you’re not that strong.”
Grian huffed, lunging for his arms instead of answering, and the next few moments were spent fighting over wrists, grabbing and pulling and yanking for any kind of control. Scar hit another wall, just barely tackling Grian under a punch. But Scar couldn’t quite drag him to the ground like he so desperately wanted, and fell hard as Grian kneed his stomach, stealing his air. Scar did end up getting his wish of taking this to the floor, but instead with Grian’s hands like vices around his wrists and the wind knocked out of him. Not.. ideal.
“One minute,” he wheezed, and Grian snickered, digging his nails around Scar’s wrists.
“Did someone get more than he bargained for?” Grian cooed, “You’d look so pretty with a black eye, don’t you think?” Grian raised his fist, but Scar just barely caught it before it could collide with his face, his own hand still smashing painfully against his nose.
“Aren’t you just a little flirt today?” Scar sneered, yanking Grian’s arm down and throwing the rest of him off balance, then kicking him into the opposite wall.
“No,” Grian grunted, gritting his teeth as Scar shoved him up by his arms, shoulders battering the wall, “I just tell it like it is. Whether or not you think it’s flirting is a you problem.”
“Alright,” Scar huffed, shaking out his hair. He lifted Grian off the wall and slammed him back against it, pinning him harshly against his chest, “Then I think you look quite nice yourself, hunched over and panting like a dog.” Scar narrowed his eyes, dark. “Just telling it like it is.”
Grian kissed him. It wasn’t nice, nor was it pretty, and Scar was too startled to even move against it, only jerking back after another moment.
“What the fuck was that?” Scar spat, new anger coiling in his gut, but Grian didn’t flinch, eyes narrow and even.
“Whatever you want it to be, I suppose.”
Well.
Scar had known the answer to that question for a while, hadn’t he? Grian’s lips were chapped, unpleasant to the touch, as he was sure his own were as well. But it wasn’t much of a problem, not as tongues collided, as Scar remembered every unpleasant sensation of making out with someone, still intoxicating all the same. Sick. They were both sick in the head, weren’t they? Scar was dizzy with it- actually, on second thought..
“Grian,” Scar breathed, forehead resting on Grian’s own, “We should probably.. get checked out by a doctor.. or something.”
“What?” Grian laughed, a breathy thing with little sound, “Like, for mental illnesses?”
“No, for concussions. But. Also that, probably,” Scar joined him in laughing despite himself, breathing heavily against Grian’s chest, and eugh, yeah no, he was definitely still dizzy, but at the same time..
“Maybe,” Grian’s lips grazed Scar’s cheek, settling around his jaw, still tender from when Grian had punched him. The bruise was dark the last time Scar had checked. “But I believe you promised me we’d get ‘very drunk’ earlier, and I haven’t forgotten. Where else have you bruised I wonder,” Grian mumbled, pressing a kiss to the tender skin. Scar whined, looking away, and Grian giggled, pressing light kisses to his throat instead.
“That’s.. dangerous.”
“You think I’m dangerous, Scar?” Grian pushed impossibly close, and despite being the one on top, Scar felt as trapped as if he’d been pinned.
“Well, yes,” he admitted, suddenly feeling a bit shy, moreso when Grian giggled against his neck, “I was still talking about the concussions though. And drinking. Y’know.”
“Hm,” Grian considered him thoughtfully, though it was a bit distracting to feel the vibrations against his skin, “You make a good point.” Grian paused, lips gliding to the corner of Scar’s own, “Then whatever you decide, I’ll follow. Personally, I’d love to wake up tomorrow regretting today.” Grian’s fingers trailed up Scar’s side, thumb brushing below his shirt and making him shiver.
“Likewise,” Scar murmured, letting Grian trail soft kisses across his jaw, “Well.. Let’s see where this goes, hm?” With the way Grian was looking at him, Scar was starting to get a pretty good idea of exactly where this was going, and he didn’t have a single complaint. “Yeah,” he sighed, closing his eyes, “Let’s make a mess.”
pinglist (just ask if you’d like to be added): @dakotas-hermitblr-pogg
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puck-luck · 20 hours
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let it slip | trevor zegras
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warnings: daddy kink. i said what i said. teasing, dirty talk, begging, embarrassment, orgasm denial to a certain extent, unprotected p in v sex, minimal choking, one sentence of overstimulation, potential use of "y/n" but i honestly forgot (i just reread this too, but i don't know if it uses y/n) pairing: trevor zegras x fem!reader summary: the one when reader accidentally calls trevor "daddy" in bed and it doesn't go to shit! wc: 861
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Trevor was infuriating. You knew that before you started dating him, having known his friends for a good year before you two started going out. You’d hung out with Trevor’s group a couple of times and you knew well that he had a mouth on him. Normally, you were able to ignore his comments or use them to your advantage– but today, he was just teasing. He was running his mouth and holding you still on his cock, pulling out each time you tried to get him to move. Whether it was you grinding down, clenching, or pulling at Trevor’s shoulders and hair, it ended in the same result. He pulled out and, with an annoying smirk, waited for you to beg him to slide his cock back inside you. So really, you couldn’t help it when the word slipped out of your mouth.
“Daddy,” you complained when Trevor pulled his cock out of your pussy again. Then, when you realized what you said, you stilled. Your eyes went wide and you clamped your mouth shut, even bringing a hand up to cover your lips.
Trevor raised his eyebrows in surprise for just a second before smoothing his expression. “Is that how you want this to be?” He asked, rubbing the tip of his cock up and down your folds. When you kept your mouth shut, still reeling from your inadvertent admission, Trevor shifted his hips forward and pressed into you, barely. “Baby,” he said quietly. “Say that again.”
You let out a whimper and shook your head, embarrassed that you had revealed this to him in the middle of sex and not in a better moment, where you could explain yourself. You could feel your cheeks burning with redness. “Trevor,” you said instead, and cringed at the way your voice broke.
Slowly, Trevor shook his head. “No,” he drawled. “No, baby, call me what you want to call me.” He begins to rock forward, slow and calculated, making sure you feel every inch of him. He brings his thumb to your clit and rubs circles on it at the same pace, staring as you close your eyes and take a deep breath. “Come on, sweet girl. It’s okay. Let me be your daddy. Let me make you feel good. Let go.”
You cry out as he starts to snap his hips in a more brutal pace. He’s still staring, taking in every single minute change in your expression. He’s good with his cock and good with his fingers and he’s great with his words, and he knows that he just can’t let you come until you call him ‘daddy’ again. He lets your release build until he knows you’re about to snap and he stops, buried completely inside you.
“You want to come, babydoll?” Trevor asks, wiping the tear from the side of your eye that leaked out when he stopped moving.
“Please,” you plead. “Please, Trevor.”
He makes a disapproving noise and begins to pull out of you, but it’s unbearable. You lock your ankles at the small of his back and hug tightly around his neck and he lets you immobilize him. He could break free of you in an instant with that hockey strength he has, but he’s waiting for you to say the word that’s on the tip of your tongue with baited breath.
“Daddy,” you finally breathe out. “Please, make me come. I’m so close, please don’t take it away, I’ll do whatever you want.”
He snaps his hips forward and resumes fucking you like his life depends on it, reaching one of his hands up to your throat and resting it there. “Keep calling me that,” he tells you. “And I’ll let you come.”
You nearly shriek when he presses down on your throat. Every sense is heightened when he chokes you and his cock presses into you so, so deep with every thrust. You’re babbling, calling him by his new title practically every other word as the pleasure builds in the pit of your stomach.
Trevor presses his forehead against yours. You can feel his breath on your face and his nose nudging yours with each thrust. “Come for daddy, baby. Show me how good you feel.”
As soon as you let go, you can feel him letting go as well. He spills inside of you with a deep groan, burying his face in the side of your neck. You reach down between your bodies and feel the way he continues to slide in and out of you through his aftershocks. His come is leaking out of you with each pass of his hips and he just continues to fuck it back in. He doesn’t even pull out, just maneuvers so you’re laying on top of him on the bed.
“Daddy, huh?” Trevor asks quietly. “I like that.”
You bury your head in his neck this time, blushing and hiding. “‘S embarrassing.”
“Mm, I disagree,” Trevor hums. He slides a finger over your clit and you clench down on him due to the overstimulation. “That one little word has got you this worked up and makes me want to stay inside you all night long.”
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notes: finally, my darkest (not dark at all because i'm very comfortable with it) secret has been revealed! yes, readers, i've been a fan of the daddy kink all along. and you know who's daddy as fuck? TREVOR ZEGRAS. not much else to say. hoping everyone enjoyed. definitely nsfw. ....will be including the daddy kink in my works as often as i find necessary. maybe i can pavlov y'all into enjoying it too... hmm...
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goldessia · 5 hours
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RUINED REPUTATION — k. bkg x assistant reader
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sum. katsuki bakugo is the #1 professional hero. because of this, he built an agency, and wound up hiring an assistant to help him with publicity and to do majority of his paperwork for him... something he didn’t expect was for that assistant to be so damn attractive.
warnings. injury, intoxication, makeouts, smut!mdni (in future chapters!)
part 1 | part 2 | part 3 (wip)
a/n. haii! thanks for tuning in for the second chapter :) hope you like this so far! not proofread — let me know if there’s any mistakes!
tag list: @lovra974 , @gold24fish, @bkgirl, @bigsimpo343 , @missyaess
“i.. i didn’t know where else to go.”
here he was, dynamight himself, standing in-front of my front door with blood pooling his shirt.
i sputter. what do i even say in this situation? my boss was at my front door, looking intoxicated and like he was near to death.
“sir?” i say in nearly a whisper, “what.. what are you doing here?”
he groaned, and i couldn’t tell if it was from pain or not. “stop.. stop calling me that.” he huffs, clutching the doorframe harder, the wood sizzling.
“sorry—“ i catch myself, “um, dynamight.”
“don’t call me that shit either.” he stares me in the eye as he says, “just.. just call me katsuki. ‘don’t care.”
i meekly nod. we’re on a first name basis now?
not wanting my doorframe to burn off, i take his hand off my doorframe and sling his arm around my shoulders. when he leans his weight onto me, i nearly collapse but manage to keep myself composed.
to think we were just talking about him merely a few hours ago, and now he’s here, as if we summoned him like some sort of demon.
.. well, demon isn’t too far off.
i shut the door behind me, katsuki’s feet stumbling as i try to lead him towards the bathroom where i kept my medical aid.
i guess my year trying to be a nurse is paying off before i switched majors, as i still have the supplies and knowledge i gained from it.
“what the hell happened?” i ask, voice low as to not wake my un-suspecting roommate.
“ts’ guy at a bar, nggh!” he hisses as we drop a step, his hand unintentionally pushing farther into his wound. i mutter an apology.
he’s breathing heavily, like he’s gasping for air. i can feel his biceps clench with every walk we take, his sharp exhale at every step he as to walk on his left-injured side.
clearing my throat, i prompt, “guy at a bar?”
“had a.. a fuckin mouth onim’.” he says heavily, “put that pussy in his place.”
if dynamight is this bad.. i wonder how the guy he was fighting was looking like right now.
“as your assistant.. fuck you for causing another scene.” i say, kicking open the bathroom door, “as your temporary.. friend, good for you.”
i cringe at the word friend. friend seems weird — off.
“good for me, my ass.” he hisses as i place him against the counter, pushing his torso to tell him to sit.
he does.
the reality of the situations continues to dawn on me; my boss is in my house, in my proximity that i live in everyday. i shower in this very bathroom. it felt.. weird.
i clear my throat, trying to ignore the butterflies of anxiousness in my stomach.
“katsuki,” i test, the name unfamiliar on my tongue, “take off your shirt.” from my peripheral vision, i can see him smirk. i send a look his way, face flushing in embarrassment.
“not like.. like that.” i stutter, “‘just take off your damn shirt.”
he stares at me, blinks, then tuts his tongue and says—“yes, ma’am.”—weak, shaken hands gripping the end of his shirt and pulling it over his head in one clean move.
it both irritates me and confuses me how simply he had done it.
he drops it in the floor, too weak to care where he put it—conveniently on my brand new white bathmat.
i try to ignore how it irritates me.
“i’ll buy you.. a new one.” he breathes, falling back against the marble wall, touching a hand to the wound on his stomach and hissing a breath through his teeth.
i rummage through the drawer of supplies, purposefully avoiding looking his way out of respect — and for my own sanity.
luckily, sutures was the unit we last worked on before i switched majors, meaning the information was still fairly fresh in my mind.
taking a step closer to the hero, i smell a waft of alcohol seep off of his skin. whiskey, no doubt.
i clear my throat. “i didn’t peg you for a whiskey guy.” i say, hoping to clear some of the overwhelming awkwardness.
he grimaces when i touch an alcohol pad around the wound, cleaning the dried blood surrounding the cut.
“i’m any typa’ guy on the right occasion.” he gives a toothy grin as he says this, abs flexing from my touch.
i blink. finally meeting his eyes, i realize just how close our bodies were, my hands on his torso, standing between his legs as he sits on the counter.
i knew he was supposed to be fit considering his work involved constantly pushing his body to the brink, but man.
he was toned, abs chiseled, biceps molded and flexing with every touch to his wound. his body resembled that of a god, and even if his body was bruised and broken it still looked perfect.
his eyes are piercing, ruby-bright red paired with a shiny, toothy grin placed between his lips.
“whatcha starin’ at, hm?” he slurs. i can feel the breathe from his lips.
my eyes flick away. i murmur a, “..nothing”, clearing my throat and picking up the needle to suture the wound. "so.. what happened for you to get this wound?"
"you're really beautiful, y'know that?" katsuki breathes, eyes scanning over my face.
"what?" i flush, momentarily freezing.
he chuckles, the scent of alcohol seeping over my face as he breathes out, "everyday, when you show up in those outfits ya got.. drives me insane.."
i am unsure what to do. staring into katsuki's eyes, i can see he's totally out of it; he doesn't mean any of this, it's just the alcohol talking!
.. then again, drunk words are sober thoughts.
i scoff, tucking a piece of hair behind my ear as i rip my gaze away. "you're drunk, katsuki," slowly, i am getting used to the name, "you're just talking nonesense."
"i'd never lie t' a pretty girl like you." he says, leaning closer, dangerously close. "anyone ever tell ya you got the most beautiful eyes?"
he reaches a hand toward me, tipping my chin up to look at him, rough and calloused hands scraping against the skin across my jaw.
suddenly, the room is too hot, his touch is too hot and i can feel myself slowly going insane. i find myself wanting more, more, his hands all over--
no! what the hell am i saying, he's drunk, and unlike himself. once he sobers up, he'll realize how stupid his words were.
but oh, his touch was addicting.
"katsuki.." i whisper, feeling his hand slowly move across my collarbone. he leans toward me, his lips resting over my ear, his breath on my skin flowing down my neck. so warm, so soothing.
"y'know, everyday when you show up in them' jeans ya wear.." he inhales, the sound loud in my ear, "makes me so fucking turned on."
i take a deep breath, trying to compose myself, trying to resist; he wouldn't want this, not if he were sober.
i swallow, "katsuki." i say with more certainty.
"mm, say that again." he rasps, kissing just below my ear with such gentleness i am surprised. his lips are hot, wet, his tongue dragging softly over my skin. i feel my body heat up, having to lean against the counter because i was afraid my legs would give out.
resist. resist, all you have to do is push away.
"you.. you wouldn't want this if you were sober." i huff, my face a bright, hot pink of fluster.
a chuckle comes from his chest, "this is all i want when i'm sober. all i can think 'bout, girl."
he pulls away from my neck, and i sigh in relief before opening my eyes to see him right in-front of me. his hand grabs my chin, slanting my head to the side, waiting painfully close as if to wait for me to make the first move.
and i know it's bad. the cliche of bosses sleeping with their assistants always irked me, and considering i was an assistant for dynamight i never considered he would ever sleep with me.
but now... if what he is saying is true, my predictions were nothing but the complete opposite.
and all i can think is: well, fuck, as i crash my lips against his. his mouth is hot, fiery, just as i assumed it to be. his tongue instantly pushes against mine, teeth grazing each other as our lips meet in a hasty battle.
tongues dancing against each other, i am instantly overwhelmed. kissing has never been this sweet, this passionate with my previous partners. a raw, thick naturalness comes between katsuki and i, as if being this close to one another was simply fate.
"this is.. bad--!" i mutter between the breathes we are forced to take, his hand instead finding my hips and pulling me against the counter. i am forced to stand on my tippy-toes as his other hand finds my hair, grasping it as if to hold him to reality.
i understand that much. i feel like if it weren't for his grasp on my skin, i would simply be in a dream instead of this being a reality.
and if this is a dream, i don't think i want to ever wake up.
i bring a hand up to his torso, my hand accidentally grazing over his wound. he groans into my lips, hand clutching my hair even tighter, yet he doesnt stop his assault to dominate my mouth.
i gasp. he's wounded! what am i thinking?!
gathering all the restraint in my body, i push away from him, my back slamming into the wall behind me. i finally take a breath, heavy pants leaving my mouth as i stare at him.
a groan of frustration leaves his lips, his back falling against the wall. it seemed the dopamine had allowed the affect of the wound to become nothing more than a little thorn in his side, but now that it had run out the pain started coming back.
"please.." katsuki whispers, "'feels better when yer kissing me.."
then, there's a knock on the door.
"y/n? is everything alright in there?" mina's voice comes from outside the door.
i look between katsuki and the door, seeing his love-drunk eyes and his current state; anyone with eyes could see he was aroused, not to mention the prominent boner tenting his pants.
"uh—“ i say, "yeah I’m—i'm okay." i say back, clearing my throat, "jus' go back to bed, mina."
"you sure..? you're talking kinda weird, i'm just gonna come in—“
"no!' i panic, before realizing my tone was still suspicious.
"that' the acid freak from school?" katsuki's brows furrow, "what's that brat doin' here?"
"who's that?!" mina calls from outside the door, "wait.. thats—!"
"OKAY!" i yell in frustration, "i'm opening the door!"
i slowly crack open the door, quickly closing it behind me and leaving katsuki in the bathroom.
mina’s eyes are wide. “what. the fuck. is katsuki bakugo doing in our apartment at three in the morning?!”
i sigh, rubbing a hand over my face, “i don’t know. he just.. he just came to the front door, injured.”
“so.. bring him to the hospital!” mina says in a duh tone.
“how do you think it’d look if his assistant was with him at three in the morning?” i say in a whisper-yell, “look, it’s just a simple cut. i can suture it up, and he’ll be fine by the morning.”
she shifts on her feet, uneasy. “okay. but it still feels weird.”
i run a hand over my face, “yeah, i know. it is weird.”
she eyes me, her head slanting ever so slightly. “are you alright? you look all… flustered..” then, her eyes widen as if in a realization, “wait—!”
before she can speak, i cut her off. “okayimleavingnowbye!” i sputter, rushing toward the bathroom and closing it behind me.
i inhale a deep breath, face flushing at the idea of being caught making out with my boss.
“how about you uh.. do me a favour and stitch me up now, huh, princess?” katsuki smiles as he says this.
i turn to him. “don’t call me that.”
“uh-huh.”
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laurentdirosetti · 1 day
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"Support character" [part 2]
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{Idia Shroud x gn/MC}
Tags: playing videogames together, competitive, bet, smut...
Idia’s room was just like you imagined it would be, an otaku’s room —books scattered on the floor, open boxes in every corner, merchandising from different animes and games, posters on the walls… Also, the air in the room is really heavy, why is it so hot in here? Is it because of the computer or- 
MC: ARE YOU ALRIGHT? 
His hair was bright red, redder than when we were in the storage room, and not only the color was hot red, but the temperature too. 
Idia: so-sorry, this is the first time a girl has entered my room (anyone other than Ortho or me for that matter).
That was the issue, haha… now I’m nervous too. I should do something to break the ice in this situation, or rather cooler the temperature. I think I recognised one of his figurines on that shelf… 
MC: Isn’t that Ruri-chan from “The Magical Ruri Hana: Demon Girl”?
I was staring right at Ruri-chan when I asked him, so it was a surprise when I turned around to look at his face and saw his expression. For a few seconds the time stopped and he gave me a death stare. Why is he so scary all of a sudden? Did I mispronounce her name? Impossible, I’ve been watching that series since I came to this world, mostly because it was the only serotonin I could find after nearly dying over a kid’s tantrum. 
Idia: you know Ruri-chan?
Maybe because you were nearly as introverted as Idia or because you were nervous, the only answer you could find to his suddenly cold attitude was that this was the beginning of the typical “man interrogation over a common interest to prove your authenticity as a fan”. So before he could start making you questions about the show, you blow out all the lore of the series. 
Idia’s face was as rigid as a rock until you finished your monologue on Ruri-chan’s journey. You stopped talking to catch a breath when he grabbed you by the shoulders and suddenly snapped.
Idia:  ARE YOU TELLING ME THERE WAS ANOTHER OTAKU IN THE ACADEMY AND I DISCOVER IT NOW? Why did it take you so long to talk to me? How is it possible that I didn’t know about this before? I mean, I have control over all the technology and internet connection here. I should’ve been notified if a student was watching anime, how is it possible I didn’t know about you till now? What did you do? What kind of firewall did you use?
MC: I just watched it on Ramshackle’s TV…
Idia: ah… that explains everything, that TV probably doesn’t even have an HDMI port, let alone Internet… 
MC: Idia… my shoulders are starting to hurt.
He sure is strong, it's hard to tell by those baggy clothes he's always wearing. He instantly opened his hands to let me go as soon as he heard me. He looked troubled he might have hurted me. 
MC: don’t worry, I may not have “mana”, but my HP is full.
He couldn’t help but smile at my dumb -almost cringe- comparison. I think my “break the ice” mission was successful. Idia is very expressive, he snapped from nervous, to surprised, to confused, to happy in the the blink of an eye. I wish he stopped using that floating tablet of his to attend classes so I could see more of his expressions. 
As soon as he released me he went to pick something from his wardrobe, a pair of controls apparently. The controls in my world were less complex than this ones. Idia handed me one of them and I began to study the buttons. It would be a lie to tell I knew how to grab it, clown music is playing inside my head. I wanted to play videogames with him, but truth be told I don’t have money to fix Rammshackle’s sink let alone buy a videogame or a console. 
Idia saw my troubled grin and step towards me, shadowing my entire persona. 
Idia: Is there a problem? You don’t like the color or something? Is it the brand?
MC: well, you see, the thing is… 
This is gonna be so embarassing. First, I ran into problems trying to defend him against nothing, cause he wasn’t even hearing those jerks. Second, I made him hide with me in the storage room and now I have to tell him I wanted to play videogames with him but didn’t even think about the possibility of the controls being different from my world. Defeated, I lower my head to evade his soon to be inquisitive gaze. 
MC: …I don’t know how to use these controls, they are different from the ones in my world.
Silence was so loud I couldn’t take it anymore and looked up. He was trying so hard not to burst out laughing at me his cheeks were red and his jaw was so tense I could see his neck muscles contracting. Finally, he let out a little pfft and grabbed his mouth and chin with his hand, pressing his cheek with his index.
Idia: I’m sorry but, you went through all that trouble to play together and you don’t even know how? Cute.
Lucky for me I don’t have magical hair that turns red when I'm flustered, but I’m sure it’s not hard to guess just by looking at my face. 
Idia: don’t worry, guess I’ll have to teach you as I did with my little brother, come here.
He sat on a visible comfortable plush sofa, big enough for him to open his leg and ask me to sit between them. Funny, when we were in the storage room he was so nervous and now he openly asks me to sit on top of him, hasn’t he noticed?
Dumbfounded, I did as he requested and sat on the gap between his thighs, creating a space between us as a way to surpass the embarrassment. Unfazed, he glued his chest to my back and slipped his hands around my body. As if I was walking on thin ice, I slowly rested my arms on top of his. Then he moved his hands on top of mine on the controller, guiding my fingers on top of the buttons. My ears were bright red as I could feel his breathing chilling my neck, whispering a slow pace explanation on how to use the controller. His fingers moved mine slowly over the buttons, his hair fell as a cascade over my shoulders sliding between my legs. I don’t know what is happening and I would swear neither does he. He’s so focused on explaining the lore of the game and controls he hasn’t realized the hot mess he got cuddled beneath him.
Idia: Did you get that?
He asked, suddenly making me snap out of my cloud. Even though it was difficult, for many reasons, I caught a glimpse of his monologue while trying to survive my ocean of hormones. 
MC: Well… It seems quite complicated to be honest. Maybe I can understand it better once I play the game. 
Idia: Great, let’s play. I’ll connect the other controller so we can multi-play this. 
The controller was right next to us, already plunged, so he didn’t move an inch and his arm were still surrounding me. The soundtrack of the game started playing and far too late I realized he meant to play in this position, basically cuddling each other, with our arms tangled, his body temperature on me and his breathing on my neck. We haven’t even started, but I can tell I already lost. 
Unfortunately for him, after playing for nearly an hour, I tried my best to give him a hard time beating me. I lost all the matches anyway, but at least I could hear his groans all along, echoing in my ears. 
Idia: SO much for being a snob, you are tougher than you look. But rest assured, I would never let a newbie beat me at my favorite game. Ortho has tried many times and I should give him a pass -you know the whole “Idia let your little brother win once”- but as a weeb I have a reputation yk. 
That smirk on his face… he’s sure full of himself. I have almost grasped the dynamics of this game, maybe I could beat him. I’m a pretty competitive person and that arrogance only ignites something dark in me, something stupid. 
MC: I bet I can ruin that reputation of yours in our next round.
Idia: Are YOU implying YOU can win? LMFAO, if delulu was a sport you'd have a gold medal. If you beat me on this round I’ll be your chair or whatever -not that it’s even a possibility.
MC: Do you mean I can ask you anything if I win? It’s this one of those anime situations in which the winner can order the loser around the whole day? 
Idia: Yeah, that kind of shoujo stuff. Afraid?
MC: Mmn… Well, you’re already quite the comfortable chair.
That came out of nowhere, but I decided to keep my cool and rested my weight on his chest even more, looking up at his melted honey eyes now widening from sudden embarrassment. His peachy cheeks are so cute. Plan complete: this may be considered cheating but the only way to win is to distract him and by the discontrolled beating of his heart reverberating on my back I can tell it already worked. 
We began playing, in the game we were two characters fighting each other in a 2D horizontal landscape. I didn’t learn all the combos, but I mastered the parries and evasions, so it was nearly impossible for him to even scratch me. He was focused on attacking while I was determined on defending, a never ending match it seemed.  In real life it was the other way around, I continued non-stop “attacking” him while he tried his best to “defend” himself. Each time I evaded one of his attacks my butt moved against his lower body. From the corner of my eye I enjoyed his leg contraction at every “unintended” pound I gave him. After almost an hour of playing him, and the game, his breath was a mess, he was trembling all over and his dick was rock hard between my ass cheeks. My intention was to win the game, but I’m not quite disappointed with the actual development of the situation. I could take this as a win already.
Then I felt a thrust, his body rested on top of mine and I swear I can almost tell his longitude just by the pressure on my lower back. He snapped, his fingers were moving so fast on the buttons I had to make an effort to see them, he left me no chance to defend myself neither in the game or reality. As my character fell to the ground completely defeated, my head stumped on the floor as his hands pressed my shoulders to the ground.
Face to face, among the darkness of his room I could only differentiate two golden orbs and his face lightly illuminated by the gentle blue of his hair. 
Idia: I won.
My whole belly was on the palm of his hand as he slowly lifted my shirt all the way up, until he grabbed my neck under the clothes. 
MC: Wh-what are you doing?
Idia: I won, so the loser must do whatever the winner demands, right?
MC: Bu-but you haven’t say anything yet.
Idia: Oh, then I want the loser to fix my joystick. 
What? Oh…
As I stupidly tried to understand that I noticed his hard-on pressuring my lower belly, near to my intimacy. 
Idia: you see, a certain snob player broke it mid-play. Any idea on how to fix it?
He completely snapped, I almost can’t recognize him. Where is the shy boy I was messing with? The situation has escalated more than I would have imagined, but this doesn’t put me off in the slightest. Seeing Idia all hot and bothered surely is rare enough and I want to push that dominant side of him a bit more.
MC: maybe… It just needs some cleaning?
I questioned opening my mouth and letting out my tongue. His sigh was filled with excitement and anticipation, I could catch him bitting his lips for a moment.
He moved his knees to the sides of my head and lowered his zip and trousers. My eyes, now more used to the low illumination of the room, enjoyed the view of his thighs, pale as porcelain. He looks so fragile and slim, or that was my line of thinking until he uncovered his dick. Hard, veiny and leaking precum on top of my forehead; the length was the size of my face. This was going to hurt.
I accepted my destiny and kept my mouth open for him to enter mercilessly. But, that wasn’t the case. At a slow pace he started going down on my mouth, he filled my cavity with just the tip and almost the middle of his length. Then, he took my chin in his hand and caressed my cheek, pressing it on his dick and slowly massaging it from outside. I didn’t know what to do with my tongue so I tried to lick his dick and press it more against my cheek. His eyes glittered from a moment and he let out a soft chuckle. 
Idia: seems you’re really eager to clean it, babe. But this much won’t do I’m afraid, you need to get it all wet enough.
Instantly, he continued letting down his hips  until all his dick was in my mouth and throat. He was so deep in me my lower lip was touching his balls. Strange enough, this wasn’t as painful as I imagined it to be, I wonder how can my throat be twitching around him and I’m so calm? Maybe, his sweet expressions are keeping me from gagging. His mouth is a little open, from this angle I can only see his tongue moving above his pointy teeth. His eyes are locked in my throat, probably a bulge has formed, his fault after all. He’s been so long in this position I could possibly draw his dick by having it inside me. 
When I thought he would start moving, his balls twitched against my lip and his cum flooded my mouth non-stop. When he released everything in me he fastly got up, letting me catch a breath. He cumed so much there were lines of cum running down my cheeks to the ground. I coughed a little after drinking all.
When I sat on the floor and looked up I could feel his gaze contemplating my whole display, heavy breathing and a surprised expression.
MC: that was fast. 
Idia: I endured playing in hard mode, literally, a few minutes ago. Thank me I didn't finish by just seeing your ahegao face. Also …you didn’t need to drink that.
MC: I told you I would clean it. 
Idia: quite the awful job, It's all sticky and twitching, maybe you can clean it better down here…
To be continued...
Part 1
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ur-fav-attention-whore · 11 months
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Getting better is an illusion it always comes back worse
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sleeping-horrors · 1 year
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I wanna fucking scream until i rip my vocal coards
I wanna sleep so I avoid the issues that plague me
I want to cry into her chest as she tells me it will be okay
I wanna smoke until i can't think
drink until I forget
I want to lay looking at my ceiling blasting out my eardrums with music as I sink away into the mattress
I want to do fucking anything but feel like this
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silkjade · 2 months
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it’s 3am so please enjoy my favorite painting in the world while i reflect introspectively in the tags thank u ♡
day and the dawnstar by herbert james draper
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#— 𝓭𝓮𝓵𝓲𝓬𝓪𝓽𝓮𝓼#///#this is meant to be like elevator music for the dash while you scroll past#……………..#i love selfshipping it's vry fun but sometimes when i think about it too much or rather when i think about any scenario at all#i'm always like i want so and so to do this and this and this but when asked what i'd do for them it's like hitting a blank ) :#and i can’t help but feel as if i’m being…. selfish….#selfish in the sense that i can so easily accept the love i crave but i don’t know if i'd be able to give the same back?#and this bleeds into my real life becus i suppose i just don't know how to make someone feel loved like...#i’m not even half as affectionate irl as i may seem online & i don’t have a cute or particularly loving personality.#the words i say aren't warm ; ironically they make me sound disingenuous lmao no matter how much i practice my cadence#& idk why it’s so difficult for me to imagine myself doing like.. domestic things for anyone without cringing at the alien nature of it#not becus there's something wrong with that but i just can't see ME doing anything like that and i just think 'what is wrong with me' becus#it's one of the simplest and purest forms of love i think ; \ idk maybe i've just never loved anyone enough like that...#but then i feel so..bad...because the real me is so apathetic boring cold#& not to make things sound transactional but why would someone want to stay if what they invest produces lackluster results ?#like omg ! even i can tell that it's totally unfair i'd feel like a leech#even in the painting above draper the painter says: 'to faint in the light of the sun she loves / to faint in his light and to die'#iz so me yearning 'n then dying from yearning becus i don't know how to express it#like when mitski said '胸がはち切れそうで' 'my chest is about to burst' i felt that#anyways i suppose this was good to get out before chinese new year lolz#i hope u did not make it this far honestly anyways i m going to rb a bunch of random stuff to hide this
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purble-gaymer · 7 months
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actually having everything i write in one big monster document is great because i can see my improvement so clearly as i go through it
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genderfreakxx · 1 year
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Having my cringe era NOW because Arin Gamegrumps is SO girl to me and I’m not afraid to say it
#to clarify this is cringe because you should never tell someone to come out. or speculate on their identity really#but I’m like. just come out already you deserve it#I’m not pushin any label in particular or nothin I just have my own trans radar and I swear to god it’s off the charts for arin gamegrumps#and by trans I don’t mean inherently binary or nonbinary I just mean That Persons Gender is Queer in Some Way I can Feel it#and by ‘it’ I mean I get this sort of second-hand longing from them that seems to be tied to gender in a notably queer way#anyway. I’m probably totally wrong. but. I HAD to say it#blithering on #arin hanson#game grumps#okay so to go even further in my cringe unnecessary and invasive speculation:#I just can’t help but get the feeling that arin feels a special sort of connection to femininity and girlhood#but- based on my years and years and years of watching his content- I get the impression that he feels ‘too far gone’ if u know what I mean?#very much ‘I want to be a girl so bad but I could never pass’ type shit#and I just hope he knows- even if he really is a cis dude and I’m just trans and overstepping- that he’s girl as hell to me#in the most complimentary and respectful way possible#like even if he’s a dude he’s girl as hell to me and I think it’s cool as hell. and if he’s not a cis dude then well!!!! also very cool!!!#like. he’s. sigh#I just hope he knows he’s pretty and lovely and cool and gender is fake and he can do w/e he wants and people will be there to support him#anyway sorry I’ve rambled on enough#my trip to visit Gay City (Portland) is DOING things to me
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frogcoded · 2 years
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Why are men like this
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My favorite part of my job is hanging out with middle aged people because they make me feel like I’m Just Beginning and that I need to chill the fuck out
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