#because girl when its good i will shell out

[ganonfan1995]

Sometimes I feel a bit at odds with LoZ fandom, but only because of how old it is and how much it's constantly changing.

I generally love to engage with the lore, and I love to play with the characters and setting...But good god is it exhausting.

I genuinely feel like my exposure to OOT and WW early on as my only point of reference for years have greatly shaped the way I look at games as a whole...So at times it can be super frustrating to communicate with fans who jumped on between the SS and BOTW era.

There are unique generational gaps in this fandom that I haven't observed before in other spaces. In part because playing older LoZ titles is just not possible for a large portion of new fans, but also because LoZ has always had a "current" game that doesn't require the player to have knowledge of previous games.

Each game can be a stand alone as much as they can be a piece of a larger picture.

I've been thinking about this a lot lately as totk draws closer and closer. It's impossible not to run into a popular theory or a speculation that I find incredibly misplaced. And even harder to remember that the basis for these theories comes from the lack of exposure to the rest of the series.

I feel like SS takes up waaaay too much space when it comes to current lore. But also when it's one of the only other newer LoZ games playable on modern consoles for the last 10+ years, it's only natural that it would.

HD remakes and reboots are great, Nintendo needs to be releasing the entire LoZ franchise for switch like yesterday.

I see so many ppl talk about Ganondorf incorrectly or from a post SS point of reference...but really I am just begging y'all to play WW....preferably immediately after OOT as a sequel if you can. (not TP, because he really was 2 dimensional and bland in that game. Even if he is daddy to me.)

[moeblob]

Rey, who is in my very biased opinion, one of the funniest "girls" I have because she's just a guy, truly. Like Rey is just short for Reynold because he was recruited by a a goddess to help the hero she selected and the hero is conveniently Reynold's younger brother. So he agrees to help under the condition that the goddess gives him a female body for the other world. She's like "really odd flex but whatever" and gives him a female form and he's like "you know. I can't really blame anyone but myself for not specifying 'please don't turn me into a Lisa Frank personification'."

[domoriu]

ive had such an…. interesting day today 😇 anyway how are you all <3

[celestial-sapphicss]

something really sweet happened today and i wanted to share!

so in my college (it's a 2 years course), the 1st year students of the club im in threw us a farewell party, and we were completely blown away! they all had prepared speeches for us and got us personalized gifts, it was all so sweet i almost cried! and since im also one of the heads of the club, i felt so proud and emotional!

last year, we had the worst toxic seniors to the point that i had mental breakdowns because of them, and had vowed to create a safe environment for the new students and im really happy we could do that 🥹

[tteokdoroki]

࣪𖤐๋࣭ — JOCK BF!YUUJI ENTRY #10. babies, lots of ‘em.

about. the all star jock has an intense breeding kink that leads him to confess the plans he has for he and his weird girlfriend’s future. ( 2.5K )

warnings. minors, blank and ageless blogs do not interact! nsfw, smut, angst if you squint, characters aged up to 20s, breeding kink, unprotected sex, cum play, praise, jock bf!yuuji, weird girl + fem!reader - the brain rot continues !! inspired by @kweenkatsuki-fics recent yuuji thirsting hehe <3

“‘mma give you babies… lots of ‘em,” yuuji slurs, his hips ramming into yours at a bruising, unprecedented pace. 

beneath your shaky fingertips, the muscles of your boyfriend’s back ripple with his movements — his strength as he uses the headboard for leverage to fuck into your sloppy, sweltering heat of your sex. you’re flat on your back, his heavy and weighty body hanging over yours protectively while itadori traps you between the blazing heat in his chest and the sweaty bed sheets below. whenever yuuji gets in the mood like this, possessive and hungry for you ( and nobody else but you ), in the mood to keep you all to himself — you can’t help but succumb to each one of his touches and wet kisses. 

you can’t help the way your body trembles in the cage of his muscular arms while his abs ripple against your tummy and his pelvis tacks deliciously to your swollen clit. the bed creaks beneath the sloppy affair of your grinding bodies and somehow, within the mess of sex and love, your freehands link and squeeze to ground one another. “the way you’re suckin’ me in, god, honey,” yuuji coos, his words tickle the shell of your ear delicately, contrasting with the carnivorous way his deep brown eyes drink you in when he pulls back slightly to look at you, silver chain and dog tags dangling above your hot face, as if he’s picturing you nice and full of him and his seed. “so selfish, you don’t wanna let me pull out. you want this cum…yeah?” 

in that moment, you think you might cum, all because of the breathy whimpers from your lover that ghost over your dampened cupid’s bow ( wet from kisses ) — accompanied by the sensation of his hard-on bullying its way into your tight, quivering little hole. there’s a keen smile that spreads across yuuji’s plush lips when you nod your head ‘yes’ in response, you feel his excitement and desire for you deepen when the entire length of him twitches inside of you — pulsating as small spurts of precum begin to line your lewdly squelching walls.

“i knew you would, you’re such a good girl…and you’re all mine, how lucky am i? that you’re all. fucking. mine.” for a boy so sweet and gentlemanly outside of the bedroom, itadori is always sure to fuck you nasty and raw whilst making you feel like the most adored person on the planet. yuuji’s sailor-mouth-like praises are slurred and sinful, a tale tale sign that he’s already pussy drunk as he sheaths inch after inch within you. you can hardly blame him, not when your body adjusts to yuuji so perfectly — silken pussy stretching over the blue spiralling veins on his heavy cock. “mine to love, mine to fuck, mine to breed.” he tells you through seraphic gripes too.

“ohmygod!” you squeal, voice ringing hoarsely in your throat. your cunt spills honey molasses and sweet nectar against your ravaged sexes, juices intertwining with the small pink tufts of yuuji’s happy trail as his bright red tip bears down harshly on your gummy g-spot — providing him with the lube he needs to make love to you properly. “baby…i c-can’t!” 

just as you moan out again, legs squeezing around your boyfriend’s slender waist — yuuji’s blushing face ducks into your neck, making quick work of marking up your skin…because if he looks at your face, the way your brows crease softly and your lips part in a gentle ‘o’, and sees the way it twists with mounting pleasure. he won’t be able to hold off for much longer, he’ll lose his mind and fuck you too hard for either of you to cope. he knows that you can take it, manage to take all of his seed and all of his love — but if yuuji snaps, he’ll be pounding into you until he’s shooting blanks. 

with your hands traversing upwards into yuuji’s sea of pink curls and over his smooth undercut, he reacts with his golden eyes rolling back into the dark depths of his skull — temporarily locking away your sunlight that brings warmth to your dorm. a familiar heat prickles underneath the surface of your skin like a thousand tiny needles as you pant out your words, pleading with bambi as you look up at yuuji. “i want your cum, yuuji, i want you to…hah… fill me up ‘n get me pregnant…” there’s a feeling painfully seated above your abdomen, a burning sensation of mounting pleasure like a wound desperate to be licked and soothed by itadori.

by grinding up against him, sticky clit smearing over his tense stomach and golden abs, you think that you might garner some relief — but you only feel teased and taunted when the jock pulls his cock from the snugness of your tight head to slap his milky cockhead against your pulsing mound proudly.

“don’t say it like that, fuck, baby,” yuuji all but groans, lashes fluttering at the slick sound your cunt makes with each love tap. beads of his precum ooze over you in another form of claim, glazing you in yuuji’s scent and taste. some of it even drips from your abused hole as it clenches around nothing, desperate to be filled by all that your boyfriend has to offer. “there’s so much… s’leaking out of you. gonna have to keep you on my dick always, give you all my babies.” the rose haired man can’t even hear himself speak, not over the sound of blood rushing through his ears — carrying sex crazed hormones. certainly not over your sweet sighs that form a melody with the pap, pap, pap of your pussy as he slowly sinks back into you — building up a steady rhythm to his thrusts, like an ocean’s regular tide.

yuuji can’t stop rambling, saying whatever lustful thought sits at the forefront of his mind. having you splayed out beneath him like this, your nipples pert against his firm chest and your breasts bouncing with every forceful lunge of his hips forward — it drives him up a wall. “gonna look so pretty ‘n round when you’re full of me. i’ll put a ring on it, make you my pretty wife — holy fuck, you’re squeezing me so tight. you like it when i talk to you like that, huh?” the thick vein on the underside of his shaft presses deliciously up against pleasure spots that only yuuji knows about, never leaving you unsatisfied, not even for a moment as his body rocks passionately into yours.

tanned skin and hard muscle feel slippery underneath your trembling hands. you don’t know what to hold onto, don’t know how to ground yourself when you feel this good and yuuji’s cock skilfully dives into your sopping heat — promises of the future, a wedding and family hand in the humid air buzzing between you both but is best said by the way itadori’s body dsnces with your own, his arousal soaked signature lining your rippling walls.   

“need that so bad, yuuji! need you so bad… please fill me up, i want it inside.” you hiccup and demand, hardly able to speak through it all. the bed moans and groans just like you do, every time itadori’s dick pumps in and pulls out of your dripping, greedy hole — coated in a layer of foamy white. using your elbows as leverage, you work your hips down to meet yuuji in a slick and sensual dance, clenching at every inch of him that assails your insides until delight crackles over your hazy brain.  

“god, baby please…if you keep talking like that i’m gonna—“ yuuji whines from deep within his chest, the sound resonating through you and shooting straight down to your creamy cunt that clamps down on him, pulling little droplets of precum from his sensitive tip. 

your next words have the jock pounding into you with new vigour, desperate to give you everything that you want. “d-don’t pull out, yuuji. inside.” 

“ahh, okay,” he whimpers as his voice rises in pitch, brown eyes stinging with tears. his golden arms flex as they lift you by the apex of your thighs — dragging you back onto his cock and it’s unforgiving pace. itadori presses his forehead to yours, caramel eyes shining with tears that gleam in the afternoon sunlight breaking through the curtains of your dorm.  “okay, okay fuck. okay, oh god — h-honey, i’m…fuck! i-im cumming!” he stumbles over his every word, the pink haired jock’s entire world shattering into smaller glass fragments as he finally hits his peak. thick waves of white flood your womb, hot and viscous and lighting you up from the inside out. it coats your swollen pussy lips in an opaque layer that smears along your inner thighs, pouring endlessly from yuuji’s fat cock and breeder’s balls.

effectively breeding you. 

still humping at you relentlessly and not daring to leave you far behind, yuuji tacks two of his fingers to your clit and caresses it in smooth circles, searing his name into you forever. he never lets up, fucking his cum into your womb with languid thrusts — bulbous and mushroomed cockhead spurting his hot seet against your g-spot as it grazes the epicentre of your pleasure over and over again. yuuji holds you in his arms while your vision clears, replaced by only blinding flashes of white and accompanied by an empty scream rattling around in your throat. your arousal spurts out of you in generous and clear streams, nearly forcing yuuji’s cock from your tight, rippling walls — painting both you and him in your juices. 

your boyfriend can barely hold himself above you as you both finally come down, flopping onto you and trapping you against the sex soiled matress for cuddles. 

“we can’t have babies, yuuji,” you laugh happily, letting out a puff of air from deep within your chest once you’re finally able to catch your breath. “not right now, we’re too young and we’re still in college!”

“well duh, not right now…” he muses, kissing your jaw and your neck and every part of you that he’s marked up and bruised. “but like afterwards…yanno? a few years down the line when we both have jobs. i’m gonna be pro and you’ll be a sexy career woman. ‘n i’ll make so much money that you can take all the time off you want. make sure you’re nice and taken care of and—“ 

giggling, the sweet melodies of your laughter cut through your boyfriend’s wistful rambling. 

“what’s so funny?” 

“it’s just…you’ve really got this all planned out, huh?” you reach a hand up to cup itadori’s sweaty cheek, brushing a thumb over the rough scarring at the corner of his mouth. he leans into you, much like a cat seeking physical touch, and you scratch just under his chin. “you want to be with me for that long?” 

“i mean…yeah. i want you for the rest of my life. i thought that was obvious,” yuuji manages to say while you squish his cheeks and play about with his face, sounding a little dejected. “don’t you? … don’t you want that with me?” 

your smile drops as you shift to your elbows, immediately dead set on reassuring your usually confident boyfriend. “of course i want that with gou. i want everything with you, it’s just that…” you chew on your words, push them around the cavern of your mouth as it dries with nervousness. “it’s just that… i’m still so different to you, i’m still not…conventional by any means. so i just thought… by the time college was over you’d—“ 

“i’d get bored of you?” 

yuuji looks almost offended, his pink and kiss-swollen lips pushed forward into a pout and his dark brows drawn together in the centre of his forehead. falling back onto the sheets, one of his hands sink into the pillow supporting your head as you lay flat on your back — you feel it tremble with an emotion you can’t quite place on his face. is it anger? hurt? annoyance? either way, your heart hammers in your chest and crawls it’s way up your throat. you feel nauseous at the prospect of even upsetting yuuji — especially after the loving sex you’ve just had. 

a croak in your throat replaces your sweet voice, you’re not sure if it’s because of how you’d been previously screaming your boyfriend’s name or because of how nervous you’ve suddenly become. “y-yeah,” you say slowly. “that.” 

“how could you even think that?” yuuji breathes steadily, the corner of his mouth twitching into a frown but you can’t bare to look at him any longer — casting your gaze to the side. 

shaking your head, you blink back tears you hadn’t even known were there. “i don’t… i don’t know. forget it, pretend i never said anything.” 

itadori bends at the neck to reach you,  tutting into the air as it cools down and loses its feverish taste for lust. his nose bumps yours, the pair of them becoming neighbours while his breath coasts across your face almost comfortingly. 

“when i say i want you, i mean it. forever,”  he confesses, like a reflex, like the natural reflex that his brain has to make his heart beat. “i want you to be my wife after all this. you’re not just some college fling to me. i want to buy you a house, a big ring, keep you comfortable for the rest of my life. i decided on that when i first met you,” a calloused finger and thumb tilt your chin to the perfect angle, making you look at him, your gaze falling into a mahogany one belonging only to your doting partner. “i don't care how long it takes to prove this to you… but you’re the love of my life, so have a little faith in me. okay?”

yuuji takes your hand in his, placing your palm on the left side of his chest where the muscle keeping him alive races for you. the only girl in the room. the only girl in his worlds. his dog tags jingle at the movement but his eyes on you remain unwavering and so full of commitment. you’d be stupid not to believe him now.

“okay,” you affirm sweetly, tilting your head a little further in a silent ask. you want a kiss. “i love you, yuuji.” 

“and i love you right back,” he mumbles against your lips without skipping a beat, slotting your mouths together perfectly in a gentle chaste kiss. “now baby, please stop asking me to cum inside, you know i can’t help it and we can’t have babies just yet,” yuuji whines and collapses on top of you with a huff. 

“you’re the one who said you wanted to give me babies!” 

“and you’re the one who keeps feeding into my breeding kink, let’s not get it twisted here!”

and all throughout your playful bickering, yuuji stays nestled deep inside of you — keeping you plugged full. of both his cum and his love.  

꒰ end. — all rights reserved © tteokdoroki 2024. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.

[cretenu]

random haikyuu hcs

aoba johsai slaps each others asses (in the endearing way you do in sports not a freaky way) except they all fear hanamaki because for some reason he enjoys doing it so hard that you will see stars

hinata smells like sweat. NOT B.O, just sweat. also his hands are sweaty and warm 24/7.

I stand firm on the fact that KUROO IS A LOSER!!! that man has 0 rizz!! he's definitely very good looking but he has no idea how to flirt. he practices cringey pickup lines in the mirror and when he uses them on real girls they laugh at him

ik its pretty much canon but bokuto and kuroo have an insane bromance and its the funniest thing ever. its the type of thing they'll carry throughout adulthood. definitely call each other "kubro" and "brokuto"

asahi is so incredibly scared of spiders. you think YOU'RE scared of spiders? HA. tell him there's a spider and he's out the door before you finish your sentence

yk those people who have insane luck finding things at the beach? yeah nishinoya is one of them. "lets look for shells!" five minutes later he comes back with 2 shark teeth, sea glass, and an entire sand dollar.

sugawara gives the best. hugs. to the point where its addicting. he gives long hugs too like he'll definitely hold you for a solid minute and rub ur back and stuff :(

kageyama can't swim

hinata makes elaborate handshakes with all his friends and he has a different one for each of them (which is a lot), but he remembers all of them

[sometimesanalice]

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!)

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.

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?”

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.

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?”

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.

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.”

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.

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

[emmyrosee]

[4:56 pm]

“ARE YOU KIDDING ME?”

Immediately, your eyes bug out at the sound of your husband coming home and bursting through the door. Your hands that had been playing with the teddy bear on the bed stills, and you freeze for a moment.

Your daughter, Kamiko, also now having been surprised at the noise, looks up at you to gauge your reaction and dictate how she should feel, eyes like Katsuki’s blinking up at you. You gnaw your lip as there’s another yell, one of your name, and you’re quick to look at your daughter and hold a finger to your lips to keep her quiet, though giggling softly to ease her. She giggles back, and you shush her softly.

“YOUVE GOT SOME EXPLAINING TO DO!”

Okay. Maybe spending an unspeakable amount on pastries was fair to make him rage. But in your defense, you never get to go into that bakery!

Katsuki knows the absolute fortune you tend to shell out for their pastries, and he tries his damn hardest to keep you out of there. He knows they’re good, but he tells you that ‘that’s not the point.’

So, naturally, when he went to work and you and Kamiko made your way to run errands, the smell of chocolate and cinnamon rolls were just too enticing to ignore. You’d made your way into the quiet bakery and grabbed things that would surely be appreciated by Katsuki.

Apparently, however, he saw the damage on his credit card before your kindness can show.

Whups.

You’re quick to lay down on your side- back facing the door and body curled around Kamiko- still holding a finger to your lips, and when she gives you a nod of understanding, you close your eyes just in time for angry feet to storm down the hallway to your room. You hear the door fly open, and you can feel the crimson eyes of your husband boring into the back of your skull.

“I’m going to absolutely destroy you-“

“Dadda,” your two year old whispers, and you hear her ease out a soft ‘shhhh.’ “Mumma sleepin’.”

“Is she?” He snarls, unconvinced. “And she let you stay awake? Just because?”

“Was sleepin’ too, dadda. Woke me up…”

Where she learned to be such a good liar, you’ll never know.

You hear Katsuki let out an impatient exhale through his nose, clearly weighing his options as your breathing continues its rhythmic pace, mimicking sleep. Kamiko’s tiny hand pats your cheek affectionately. “Dadda, shhhh…”

Katsuki sighs dramatically, and you are surprised to feel the soft peck against your temple, massive, calloused hand smoothing down your back. “We will discuss this later,” he snarls in your ear. “Get some rest, Kami. I’m gonna start dinner, okay?”

“Okay dadda!” She chirps, and when you hear his feet pad away and the door close, your eyes fly open and a smile spreads wide over your face.

“You’re such a little troublemaker!” You growl playfully, taking the little girl into your arms and kissing her all over. She squeals at your affections and gently shoves your face away. “Ohhh just like your mommy! And your uncle Denki! He’s gonna be so-“

“I KNEW YOU WERENT ASLEEP!”

The door slams back open, and a disgruntled Katsuki immediately flies back in, gathering you and Kamiko in each arm. You two shriek, but the smiles on your face absolutely plastered, unbudging from your faces as he manhandles you- Kamiko, with a raspberry on her cheek back onto the bed, and you, over his shoulder mercilessly.

“YOU SPENT ¥13000 IN THAT STUPID BAKERY?! AND YOU GOT OUR DAUGHTER TO LIE TO ME?!” He’s trying as hard as he can to keep the smirk off his face, though you hear it breaking through in his shouts.

Your fists bang against his back, nails digging in, but he’s unrelenting, and you whine out when he makes a fake move to drop you. “I-I wanted coffee cake!” You titter, screwing your eyes shut. “Kami! Help me!”

“Go, dadda!”

“WHOSE SIDE ARE YOU ON!” You bark in betrayal.

“The winning side,” he snickers, turning on his feet to carry you out of the room. “If you help me punish mumma, I won’t punish you so bad, Kami.”

“Yeah!”

“NO!”

Was it worth having one of the cupcakes getting smushed into your face? Not really (though him kissing you through the frosting was definitely worth something!)

Was it worth the memory you’d only added to the vault as a family?

God, yes.

[strawberries-and-summer-days]

"Shells and Secrets"

Pairing: Show!Luke Castellan x posideion!fem!reader

Summary: you and your best friend luke take your daily walk together but this time its different

Contains: kisses (making out), fluff, swearing, angst

Word Count: 1180

A/N: im back again! And in case you can't tell im obsessed with luke and the beach so here we are!

"Come on Starfish," Luke's voice reaches you before he does, grabbing your arm and dragging you along to the beach. "I don't care that you want to sleep, it's five o'clock in the afternoon you can sleep later."

You mumble your disagreement. Nothing should stand in the way of a girl and her sleep - especially not her needy best friend. Even if she's in love with him. A girl and her sleep should never be separated. A conversation you've had with Luke many times - not the in love part though - that is just for you to keep for yourself.

"I'm going to jump you in the middle of the night," you grumble to him, ignoring the grin that spreads across his face.

"Hmm, a beautiful girl jumping on me sounds pretty damn good," Luke smirks.

"But you're forgetting the best part," you say as your feet hit the sand - you're now on the beach. "The best part is her jumping you with a shiv or smothering you with a pillow."

Luke's grin grows even wider. "Yeah but see I'll fight back so you'll need to be in a place of control and you know what that means? A beautiful girl jumping on me and straddling me."

You fight the urge to blush because he just called you beautiful twice. Ignoring the butterflies in your stomach you take off in a run down the beach. Luke yells after you and starts to chase you.

"You can't escape me, Starfish!" he cries, wrapping his arms around your waist and tugging you to a stop. You try and wriggle free but end up just tripping over and pulling him down onto the sand.

You're flat on your back and Luke is braced above you, his hands on either side of your head, his mouth inches from your own. The moment freezes between you two and your breaths mingle.

Why isn't he moving? Luke has never shown interest in you before, he's always had girls lining up to date him - sure he's never dated any of them - but he's never looked at you the way he looks at them.

But now, now that he's inches on top of you, his mouth inches away from your own, his dark curls tickling your forehead. He's looking at you in a way he's never looked at anybody.

You clear your throat and that seems to snap the bubble that has surrounded you. Luke clears his own throat and stands up helping you up as well. "You uh, you okay?" he asks.

"Yeah I'm fine!" you smile and start to walk ahead again trying furiously to cover the blush that's spread across your cheeks.

Luke watches you walk ahead with a soft look on his face. He's been desperately in love with you since the day you had accidentally dunked him in water when you were learning to control your powers. You had instantly cracked a joke and quickly apologised when you noticed the way he was staring at you. In that moment all other people had fallen out of Luke's head so he was staring at you for much different reasons than you thought.

Up ahead, you stop to look at a shell and your hair falls in a curtain around your face. Luke stops and watches as you pick the shell up and walk to the water washing it off to get a better look. He smiles at you admiring shells and not worrying about training, or other people just being yourself.

Eventually you sit down on a log, and wait for Luke to catch up to you. "Hurry up you slow shit," you call out to him and he shakes his head jogging over to the log you're sitting on. He sits down next to you and rests his arm- Your arms are touching. Every thought falls out of your head. Your arms are touching after literally lying on top of each other before - whether it's intentional or not it still sends tingles up your arm.

"How are we going to celebrate your new half-brother Starfish?" Luke asks, nudging your shoulder with his own. You hum in thought resting your head on his shoulder, not noticing how he's slowed his breathing down to make you more comfortable.

"Maybe we could dunk him in the ocean, oooh or we could get Annabeth to do something!" you say laughing.

Luke chuckles, his laughter rumbling through you. "I think we could get her on board." You lean further into Luke unconsciously and he basically stills - this you notice.

"Luke?" you pull back and look at him with concern. "What's wrong?"

He starts to mumble under his breath but at your insistent look he clears his throat. "Uh, nothing."

"Luke?"

He avoids your gaze, dropping his head to look at the sand. "Luke?" you say placing a hand on his thigh. He tenses up again so you instantly rip your hand away worried that he's hurt. "Shit sorry, are you hurt." Luke's hand whips out and grabs yours.

"No! Its, its not that," he says as his gaze settles on your mouth. He rubs his thumb in circles on the back of your hand.

"Then what is it?" you say placing a soft hand on his shoulder. "You can tell me y'know? I'm your starfish." You run your hand over his shoulder and up his neck.

Luke seems to ease into your touch. "Luke?" You lean forward hoping he will tell you. Instead he just stares at you with the same look from earlier. Sighing you slip your hand into his hair and run your hands there a few times. "Alright, take your time. I'm here when you're ready to talk." You stand up and let go of his hand walking to the shore letting the waves lap gently at your ankles.

"Y/n," Luke's voice is soft when he stops at your side. You twist to look at him but are met with the soft press of his lips. You pull back stunned and Luke starts to swear.

"Shit sorry, Starfish I- I don't know why I did tha-'' You shut him up by basically launching yourself on him. Your lips smashing onto his own, hungrily kissing his mouth.

It takes Luke a few seconds to realise what's happening and then all at once it's like a leash snaps and he wraps his arms around your waist pulling you impeccably closer. He parts your lips letting his tongue explore your mouth with heartbreaking softness.

Your hands slip into his hair and you stumble backwards tripping over each other's legs until your back hits the sand and once again Luke is on top of you.

You pull back slightly, catching your breath. "Well, that was well said."

Luke smirks and looks at you with such adoration your heart melts. "Right back at you Starfish," he winks and fights the urge to kiss you again, instead a large smile grows on his face.

"We should probably talk about this, hey?" you say grinning back up at him.

"Yeah let's talk..."

[prosciuttulipa]

Period Pain, Go Away

how the JJK men help you through your period

content: afab reader x jjk men, just fluff this time! brief dirty joke in Toji's one (because he's Toji), but every one of them is a good boi in their own way <33

a/n: on my period and am in much pain v_v i can't decide who i want to comfort me, so i'm writing for all of the men i want

Gojo Satoru who isn't just your boyfriend during your period, but a "girl's girl". He wants to spoil you with desserts and eat the leftovers that you can't finish, do face masks with those cute cucumber slices over the eyes. You want a bath? He's already drawing one, dunking in bath bombs till the water looks like a small galaxy, putting on your comfort show so you can watch it while you soak.

Dealing with pain through fun and smiles has always been his way of coping. So, yes—maybe he does look a bit silly, gossiping with you while you paint sparkles onto his nails, his hair tied up with a pink scrunchie. But what's a boyfriend for, if not to be your Ken doll during your time of need?

It hurts him more than he likes to admit, to see you wince at a bad cramp, or come out of the bathroom with the colour drained from your cheeks. When you can't manage anything more than lying in your bed, he'll rest his head against your stomach, peppering kisses wherever it hurts. "Be good to my girl," he'll jokingly threaten your uterus, poking your tummy gently, "she deserves the world."

Geto Suguru who knows your period is coming before you do. Your irritable mood and food cravings clue him in, and he takes action without saying a single word.

The day your period starts, you realise that the feminine products you usually use have been fully restocked without your notice. The fridge is filled with your period cravings, enough to last a week. Before you can even say anything, a large hand wraps around your waist and presses a hot water bottle against your abdomen. "Good morning, princess," he greets you like he hasn't just pulled off what can only be described as a small miracle, "is everything to your liking?"

You don't know whether to laugh or cry at how perfectly he's predicted you. He's a step ahead of you throughout your entire period, knowing which snack or act of affection you want just by your expression. Some might call his behaviour unreasonable; frankly, he thinks it's bullshit. "Attention, taken to its highest degree, is the same thing as prayer," is what he quotes, when you ask him why he's so observant. "What makes you think I do not absolutely and utterly worship you?"

Nanami Kento who is obviously written by a woman, and so does not flinch when he sees the blood on the bedsheets when he wakes up earlier than you. Instead, he kisses you good morning till you're giggling, distracting you so you don't get a chance to see the stains. He changes the sheets while you're in the bathroom, throwing them in with the rest of the laundry. When you come back out, worrying you dirtied the bed, he merely shrugs. "I didn't see anything, darling."

He treats you like a queen on the daily, but during your period, you're his empress. Each word is law, each action his cue to immediately come to your aid. He'll cook every meal, and won't let you hold the spoon to feed yourself if he can help it. As far as he can see, your only responsibility this week is to lounge around, and let him spoil you rotten.

He thinks it's a crime that you still have to go to work, when you have to pop painkillers with your breakfast just to make it through the day. "I can take care of you, you know," he'll inevitably murmur, kissing the shell of your ear, "I make enough money to support us both. Take the day off, dearest. They don't need you more than I do."

Toji Fushiguro who manages to piss you off on the first day of your period. "What size pussy you wear?" he calls to ask, when he's picking up your feminine products at the corner store, "gotta make sure I take care of that kitty for all the squeezin' she does on me."

When he gets back home and finishes getting an earful on how you're more than just his pocket pussy, he apologises by scooping you up in his arms. "You know you're more than just a good fuck, doll," his words carry a rare sort of honesty, coming from him. "You're a good woman. My woman. Gun's in the second drawer, sweetheart—shoot me if I ever do wrong by you."

His touches turn softer, the smack to your ass replaced with a squeeze on the hip, kisses on your shoulders. He's got a hand on you at all times, just rubbing idle circles against your stomach or lower back to soothe your cramps. When bedtime comes, he makes you lay on your tummy, massaging away the tension in your muscles until you're all nice and pliant. He may not always know what to say, but he'll be damned if his actions make you feel like he doesn't love you.

[kaisa-ryo]

soshiro hoshina

tw: total nuisance 18+

english isn’t my native language!

~~~

it seemed as if the vice-captain's coaching room was always quiet, clean and cool. but instead of all that, right now, skin-on-skin slaps could be heard in the coaching room. things are scattered all over the room, and the heat from the bodies continued to envelop you both.

— i thought we were just going to practice together — you say with a grin to the captain, who bumped into you, holding your legs tightly pressed against the seat of one of the simulators.

— huh? are we doing something else? soshiro answers, pushing a strand of sweat—matted hair behind your ear.

it seems that lately he's been obsessed with the idea that you belong to him completely. naturally, you liked it. besides, he could always take advantage of it when he was just around. in every sense of the word.

— and it also seemed to me that the vice-captain should be modest and restrained — you continued.

— you're going to finish playing now.

it was getting unbearably stuffy. there was a feeling that such hot air could warm the whole of antarctica. well, that sounds like a challenge.

— i don't even know how the whole squad will react to the fact that vice-captain soshiro hoshina is fucking y/n in his coaching room for the fourth time... — you say, breathing heavily. but hoshina always keeps her word.

he abruptly grabs your legs and pulls you down. instead of continuing to bump into you, he sits on his knees, spreads your legs even wider and starts licking all the mess that you made because of him. to say that you were in utter confusion is to say nothing at all. It's like your body was planning to break out of its own shell.

— oh, soshiro!

his legs twitched pleasantly from his accidental touches of the clitoris, which made the brunette squeeze his hips more and more. you feel that your body liked this feeling and you are waiting for you to finally be able to cum from it. it looks like he really is a real fighter, since he even has working tongue muscles. you cover your face with one hand in embarrassment, and with the other you dig into his hair.

— i feel like… i am now...

one of the most enjoyable climaxes was very close, but

there is a knock on the door and a familiar voice is heard behind it.

— is everything all right there? don't you kill each other there?

your hand abruptly slides from your eyes to your mouth and presses against it with all its force. kafka was standing behind the wall.

soshiro stopped, as if he had given you the go-ahead to answer. but the moment before orgasm made itself felt. there was a complete mess in your head, which meant that right now you wouldn't be able to connect two words. you wish soshiro hadn't stopped, but if he hadn't stopped, you would have been burned right away.

— y-yes... — finally escaped from your moist lips, — maybe we overdid it a little, but everything is definitely good!

well, it sounded more convincing in your head.

— then I'm sorry for disturbing you!

— go already! — your sweet tone immediately changed to a commanding one.

at the moment when the awkward dialogue finally ended, you felt the excitement gradually go away.

the brunette abruptly stands up and you slide even lower, lying on your entire back. he penetrates you again with a still hard, excited dick and continues at a faster pace. while the captain was picking up speed, he put his face close to your ear and, smiling, whispered "good girl" the butterflies in your stomach stirred, as if after a long hibernation. It sounded too exciting.

— show me how I "overdid it", doll.

the guy continued to enter at full length. you both liked it. but sochiro's captain's gut made him want more. he liked to dominate, to be on top of you, to make you squirm under him. In a sense, he even had a possessive nature. but he never had the courage to show it in full, because it would be strange if he molested you in public, having the status of a "colleague".

— i'm getting close... ah!

— don't hold back, show me how good it feels to be with me~

soshiro presses on your clitoris and watches how you react. you start whining until you realize that the end has come. you scream, clinging to his strong shoulders, and soon you're buried in them. you're wet in everything you can get. your legs are shaking, and your mind is floating somewhere in another dimension. hoshina pulled away to help you get up, but your legs were wobbly. there was nothing to do but fall on his chest and wait for him to take care of you.

he tucks your hair behind your ear again and kisses you on the temple.

— good job, y/n.

a bonus!

kafka: damn, just look at them! I think they really killed each other there...

ichikawa: man, they kicked you away because they fucked. Isn't it obvious?

kafka: YOU MEAN HE RAPED HER?!

[lesboygamzee]

i dont even mind angsty art of tavroses abuse but the amount of people who make vriska so comically evil and malicious and everyone just accepts it as 100% canon is really weird . the tragedy of their situation is that vriska is acting out of her own hurt + jealousy ; i wouldnt even argue she hates tavros , i think she hates what tavros being happy means for her - that she is a product of abuse and a deeply flawed society , and that it isnt just ' natural ' for people to grow up cruel and defensive like her , she is seeing someone who grew up in similar circumstances ( on alternia , their individual situations are obviously pretty different ) and who is happy and who is peaceful and she refuses to come to terms with what that means . so she just says tavros is weak and this kind of grotesquely twists back around to vriska trying to make tavros Like Her - cruel and defensive ! so thats where the abuse comes in . its a very twisted result of vriska ' caring ' about tavros and her whole worldview of strength coming from abuse i mean hardship and refusal to accept the fact that she herself is a victim .

vriska isnt cruel to tavros out of any traditional idea of hatred , at least not to me , but because tavros existing the way she does contradicts her worldview and if she thinks about it for too long shell realise that she is a victim and that she didnt need to turn out like this in a circumstance that was in any way healthy . that the fact that she needed to do this to survive is a fundamental flaw of the world she grew up in , and that tavros being the way she is isnt a fault of tavroses , or a sign of weakness . but she is a thirteen year old girl who has been told to think like this her whole life .

when vriska kisses tavros and gets rejected , she feels pathetic for not responding by forcing reciprocation . when she eventually kills tavros , she feels pathetic for feeling guilty . she is the first one to acknowledge how fucked up she acted in the dream bubbles

stop watering down their relationship to ' vriska is evil and a bitch and tavros is good and a wimp ' . their whole relationship is built on vriskas own abuse and would not exist the way it does if she was more well adjusted . youre allowed to feel sorry for tavros , youre allowed to dislike vriska , but you are doing a major disservice to both of their characters by struggling to understand the nuance !!!

[godjo]

tags — gojou x f!reader x bf!getou. ꒰ explicit smut. spitroasting. threesome. fellatio. cunnilingus. both are pussywhipped. fingering. facial. mindbreak. minors, blank, and ageless blogs dni. ꒱

from hunter — it is ovulation time, i have no excuse. i’ve been thinking too much about getou lately and this is the result. ✮

it’s just a silly, fun game, prompted by none other than your boyfriend’s best friend. nobody would’ve foreseen that the end of a movie night will have your pussy pounded by gojou while getou’s balls are smothered all over your sticky face.

“mhm, like that, pretty girl?” your boyfriend, getou, asks with an impish grin adorning his lips. his cock swells inside your mouth, proud and hard against your salivating tongue. balls clapping your chin, his bush tickling your nostrils.

of course, it’s impossible to respond, let alone signal anything because you’re too fucked out of your wits. the whites of your eyes continue to dominate, your mouth nonstop in its slabbering because damn it all, gojou fucks like a rabid animal.

sure, gojou has always been nasty, freaky in his own grandiose way. and it’s because of him why the three of you ended up naked, sweaty, and fucking each other to bliss. but gods, he’s never expected your pussy to feel like this.

he’s milking his cock with your velvet, tight walls from root to tip. cocktip tingling every time it kisses your cervix. your cunt has already made a mess, pussy juices painting your puffed up cunt lips and gojou’s heavy balls. it’s impossible to stop fucking you when you grip him like a lifeline.

“enjoyin’ yourself, satoru?” getou teases, seeing gojou’s feverish eyes, a dainty pink crawling over the apples of his cheeks. “c’mon, use your big boy words.”

“well, fuck you, suguru,” gojou answers between shallow breaths. he chuckles, then, deep and throated. “‘s this why you’re so goddamn pussywhipped?”

“damn right,” getou hisses, the unexpected swirl of your tongue around his cocktip snatching air from his lungs. “gettin’ greedy now, angel?” he coos, cupping both your ears to pin his pelvis against your face. “oh, fuck, your mouth feels amazing, pretty.”

“and your pussy, too,” gojou leans forward and whispers in the shell of your ear. “never fucked anything like this before.”

gojou’s nails dig craters in your soft flesh while he ruts into you at a pace that has your eyes tearing up. his cock feels so good— your brain almost shuts down because of the sensation if not for getou.

your boyfriend smiles fondly down at you, edged with thick mischief, as he pulls his cock out from your mouth and taps your cheek with his puffy cocktip. he shoves his balls between your lips, the ridge of his girth resting on the bridge of your nose while you suckle on his balls hefty with unreleased cum. getou’s lips went ajar, stars dancing in his eyes, crimson dusting his cheeks.

you chuckle, breathless and elated. he’s so handsome when he’s losing his mind over you.

“angel, my precious baby, you’re a naughty thing, aren’t you?” he shoves his cock inside your mouth again, this time fucking the inside of your cheek.

the lewd and unfiltered sounds he echoes send bolts down your spine, causing your damped pussy to clamp hard around gojou’s girth.

he throws his head back, biting his lips so hard they would bleed. gojou’s so close— and yet he wants to seize the moment, fucking himself with your pussy until his balls tighten and he’s only seconds from pumping your womb with cum.

gojou and getou pull out at the same time. their hesitation to let you go palpable in the ache between their chests. ache that’s been augmented by their climax. all you can hear are their mindless moaning and gasping and pumping.

getou’s heavy and viscid cum shoots up your face. to your cheeks, mouth, nose, and even eyelids. while gojou sends his own sticky cum all over your back.

the three of you falls on the couch, collecting the shattered sanity you’ve spent from hours of fucking. your body automatically searches for getou’s warmth, and he takes you in his arm, kissing the top of your head.

“sorry, pretty, i’ve made such a mess,” he murmurs as he wipes his cum from your face with his shirt. “look at me baby, let me kiss you.”

getou guides you on his lap. his strong, warm hands cup your heated cheeks, before claiming your lips. his hands roam around your body, locking you in, your sticky cunt pulsing against his flaccid cock.

“i love, love, love you,” he tells you hotly, each word laced with open-mouthed kisses. “wanna eat your pussy, angel. can i eat your pussy?”

“‘course, suguru,” you whisper in his mouth. “want to feel you. let me feel you, please?”

he swiftly shifts your position. you’re laying on the couch; getou pitches himself between your legs. he spreads your thighs apart, sniffing your tingling pussy before lapping on the soft folds.

“mhm, suguru, just like that— hah—” you bite your fingers, feeling getou’s warm tongue licking all over your cunt. threading his raven hair with your shaking fingers, you pull his face close and locks his head with your thighs.

“suguru, you know that’s like giving me a blowjob, right?” gojou poses from the nearest sofa. he’s still naked, as though he cannot move at all, but those piercing blue eyes are glued to the image before him.

getou merely gives him a lackadaisical finger; he cannot be bothered by anything, not even gojou’s teasing, once he’s got his tongue kitten licking your clit.

“‘m so close, baby, please—” you declare, hot tears springing in your eyes again. getou parts your fold with two fingers, pumping your pussy while licking your clit and losing himself on the job of making you come on his tongue.

like shockwaves in your brain, your ass rises from the couch, chasing the zenith, but getou holds you firmly. you shout his name, crying and screaming and moaning, because god— he’s not stopping even though you’re breaking from the pleasure of it all.

“suguru— hah—” you fall limp on your position, clueless about what to do, as another wave of release washes over you. you’re shaking, twitching, drooling under his mercy.

he snatches you in his arms again, soothing you with gentle confessions of his love, of how you’ve been so good for him, and how he’s crazy only for you.

you’re on the verge of falling asleep when a soft kiss falls on your bare shoulder. eyes heavy with fatigue, you follow its owner, just to see gojou preparing to leave.

“i’m leaving now. do you need anything?” he dials his phone on his way to the door, muttering different kinds of food and ordering everything to be delivered to getou’s place. there’s mischief on gojou’s face as he waves goodbye. “we should do this again sometime, don’t you think?”

“fuck off, satoru,” getou drawls with a knowing smile.

“i’ll take that as a yes,” his best friend replies, followed by trails of smoky laughter before he closes the door. <3

2024 godjo — do not repost, edit, or copy.

[bunnysbrainrot]

Research

Kinktober Prompt: Thigh riding

Relationship: Sam Winchester x Reader

Content: Explicit sexual content, dry humping, degradation, some praise, (basically) PWP, a LOT of dirty talk about breeding and other filthy things.

Summary: Sam is busy when you need him most, and you’ll take whatever you can to get satisfied.

A/N: Sorry for the delay in fanfics, you guys! Work has been busy, and I’ve been working on a few pieces at the same time! Another fic will be out very soon, and it’ll be far longer, and far dirtier. Keep an eye out for ‘Guessing Game’.

Tap, tap, tap. Clack clack clack.

Sam’s fingers flew over the keyboard as he researched, with you waiting at his side as he flitted through document after document, barely saying a word. He had been at this for hours, and despite your flirtations and soft touches to his neck and shoulders, Sam didn’t stray away from his work.

But something between your legs couldn’t be ignored. A deep well of aching desire made its home in your tummy, unshakable and persistent. You needed Sam, and you needed him now.

“Saaaam,” you sing-song to him, leaning down toward his ear. You take his earlobe between your teeth and nibble softly at the delicate skin. Sam shifts in his seat and releases a long-held sigh.

Sam tilts hit head to meet your eyes, and smiles, “What is it, sweetheart?”

His tone is soft and suggestive, but he doesn’t give into your kisses like he normally does. You lean into his strong form, settling against him as you bat your lashes at him, pleading.

“Could you take a break for a few minutes?”

To your disdain, Sam shakes his head at your questions. “Baby, I gotta get this research done before Dean gets back tonight. I promise you, we’ll have plenty of time to have fun later, ‘kay?”

You whine, kissing his neck softly. You brought a leg between both of his and settle onto his leg.

“But pleeeease,” you grip at his shoulders, arching yourself into his body. Sam looks to you, a rich affection in his eyes, scanning over you as you writhed on him.

Sam frees a hand to find your hip, pulling you along his leg. You take it in stride and start to flow your hips on his thigh. The friction between your clothes presses against your clit harshly enough for you to cry out, but the slickness between your folds softens the blows.

It takes all of Sam’s willpower to not slam his laptop shut and change the task at hand. But this research did need to be done by the end of the night for this case, there was very little wiggle room. Until that’s done, you would have to take care of these needs on your own.

“Honey-“ Sam starts, “you can’t just wait a few hours?”

You bury your face in his chest and shake it to tell him ‘no’, because you can hardly wait long enough. And if you stop now, all you’ll be able to think about is the lack of pleasure in those boring hours.

Sam’s laugh reverberates through his chest against your ears. He holds you steady with one hand regardless of his research, spreading those beautifully sculpted fingers across the top of your ass.

You buck your hips on his leg eagerly, a pitiful movement to bring some relieving pleasure to your pussy. Sam groans softly - he can feel the warmth radiating between your thighs, pressing into his thigh as you keep softly below him.

“That’s a good girl,” he whispers, his breath rushing over the shell of your ear, “Get yourself off, sweetheart. That’s it…”

His voice makes you whine louder this time, and your movements quicken. Against the side of your knee you can feel Sam’s pants strain against a growing erection. You bring a hand to his cock, palming him through his jeans while you continue to buck your hips.

“Sammy, I need more,” you sigh.

Sam replies, “I guess you’ll have to be patient, then.”

Your groan makes him smile with satisfaction - teasing you like this, making you work for it, making you beg, was Sam’s favorite part. He listens carefully to your desperate whimpers, each one making sitting still rather difficult. His cock presses against his pants to the edge of discomfort, straining to break free and sink into your right pussy. It would be so easy, too, with Dean gone.

“Still at it, hm? Grind that little pussy against my leg, get yourself off, dirty girl.”

His words rattle through you, sending another wave of heat to your soaked pussy, clenching desperately around nothing. Hell, even a finger-

Sam’s words still you, then keep you going at a harsher pace. “Such a needy little slut - you just can’t wait, can you?”

You let out a breathy whine against the crook of his neck, still stroking Sam’s cock across his jeans. The pressure against your clit isn’t much to work with, but it’s something. You continue to grind until your hips protested with soreness, but you persisted.

“Just imagine,” he breathes, “my cock buried inside, stretching you out, stuffing you nice and full. Fuck, and the way I would fill you up ‘til you’re leaking. You’d be sore for days.”

A gasp leaves you as you push yourself closer to the edge, each push of your hips sends a dull, radiating pleasure through your sex. Your slick gives you an advantage to quicken your pace, furiously grinding into your boyfriend’s thigh.

“I’d watch my cum spilling out of you, but I’d fuck it right back inside, make you keep it in there for me. You’d like that, wouldn’t you, baby?”

You cry into his shoulder as you continue. His words were torturous and unrelenting, egging you on to the point of tears. This denial of anything substantial hardly ever happened, and it felt pathetic to resort to this to get yourself off, but it had been driving Sam wild this whole time.

He, in fact, hadn’t been focused on his research. You hadn’t looked up to see the distraction in his eyes, skittering between your eager humping and the laptop screen.

“And you would do such a good job, you’d take every inch while I stretch your pussy out. I wouldn’t stop until you begged me to, I would keep fucking you until I was drained, and you were filled to the brim with cum.” His words kept your mind busy on the image, as fresh as a morning dream.

The tightness in your belly eventually peaked - at home, this would’ve been over in a matter of seconds, with Sam’s masterful fingers and thick cock. Your first orgasm was an uphill battle of getting the right rhythm and pressure.

Sam kept muttering lowly into your ear, shaping his words into a blueprint for you to follow.

“I would make you watch it. You’d see what I see, how this big, thick cock spreads your little pussy wide open. And you wouldn’t say anything about it, either, ‘cause you’re a depraved little slut.”

He delivers a harsh slap to your ass, making you yelp, “Before I finish, I would pull out. Your little pussy would be gaping with how hard I fucked you, and I’d jack myself off until I came, right into that stretched-out cunt.”

You breathe shakily into his neck as your climax builds, slow and aching and deliciously filthy, with how easily his words encourage you.

“I’d wait until you weren’t expecting more, moaning and shaking, and I would fuck it right back into you again.”

The band in your tummy snapped, finally letting your orgasm wash over you with blinding ecstasy. Sam didn’t stop talking you through your high, and the shockwaves that followed.

Sam spoke lowly, “A perfect little cumslut, ready to take anything I give you. You’d be so messy - my cum would leak out of your pussy and into your panties.”

Another slap to your ass, another help from you as you kept grinding, “Bet you wouldn’t have a problem with it, either, would you? You’d get to keep my cum all to yourself - greedy slut.”

It’s all meant for him. Your body, every square inch. Your soul, down to its deepest core. It was all for Sam. Sam. Sam. Sam.

“Sam,” you sigh, threading your fingers through his hair. It was all you could muster amidst the flurry of thoughts that went through you, taking you over, body and soul.

He hums happily as you breathe his name, like a plea for more, an invitation to do all of those dirty things he whispered into your ear, each comment filthier than the last.

You pant as you come down from your high, now slightly bucking your hips. “You’re just mean.”

Sam laughs heartily, and it shudders through his chest into yours, releasing warmth through your body. His hand reaches up to your hair, carding his fingers gently through and massaging your scalp.

“Yet, you’d be begging for those exact things.”

Sitting up fully, you glare at him with a full pout. There was no objection, because it was true. Sam notices a shift of the glint in your eyes as you look between him and the laptop, still on the same documents as when you started. He still hasn’t gotten any work done, after all.

“You still have to wait,” Sam warned, patting your ass softly. You prod his chest harshly, making him grimace with discomfort. “If you’re not patient, it’s not gonna be any better for you.”

You quickly stop and look at him again, sighing dramatically. He cocks an eyebrow and a smile creeps onto his lips.

“I know, life is so hard,” he counters sarcastically.

Hi! I’m sorry this was a little shorter than the others, but this method helps limit my burnout. This way, I can commit myself fully to the bigger fanfics, and make them as good as possible for you guys!

ilysm

-Bunny

[saemisic]

I'D DO ANYTHING TO MAKE YOU WANT ME ━ enhypen hyung line relationships as "number one girl" lyrics

toxic boyfriend! enha・ fem!reader ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ genre. angst, toxicity, hurt wc ・‎ 0.8k

Sae's thoughts: hai guys! i like this one a bit better than my first fic its a little sadder tho :( i also got a little carried away with sunghoons teehee. As always, feedback, relogs, likes and comments are appericated and i hope you enjoy !

Heeseung -  “Say what I'm dying to hear 'cause I'm dying to hear you”

Neither of you could pinpoint exactly where the relationship went sour. It just seemed as time went by slowly the hushed whispers, the fluttering kisses, and the sweet honey like compliments slowly died out. You loved it when heeseung complimented you, he always managed to make you feel so heard and so loved, unlike any of your previous relationship. So when did it all go wrong? how did your once loving sweet man turn into a shell of himself. One whose eyes now bore into you with such intensity. One who's honey voice now sounded bored and monotone when talking to you. His once intoxicating voice now just seemed faded a distant memory of the past. Sometimes you could remember the jittery butterflies you'd feel whenever his sweet voice talked to you. Arguments, screaming and all was all you could recall in the months leading up. All you wanted was to be loved and heard again, to hear his voice call you "princess" or "doll", anything really, anything but what you had now.

rest of the members are under the cut!

Jay - "Tell me I'm a little angel, sweetheart of your city"

Jay was truly a gentleman by heart, he always made sure you ate, sleep well enough, bought you expensive jewelry. You couldn't have asked for a better man, he even made your strict parents smile a little. He made a romantic relationship seem so easy and sweet, because even in times of argument and turmoil he always put you first. This all just made the introduction of Hana ten times worse, its wasn't her fault really. She was sweet, kind and perfect for Jay , you even saw the sparks fly. In recent time, things had not been going well, your relationship with Jay had slowly been picked at with arguments now becoming daily. The sweet intimate love you once had was now gone, a shadow of its self. What hurt even more was the look of love in Jay's eyes when he looked at Hana. It was the same look he once gave you. You already knew that you were no longer the woman who ruled his heart, you weren't his sweetheart anymore - that was hana's position now.

Jake - "I'd do anything to make you want me"

Jake didn't do relationships, he did one night stands and freedom. The freedom of not being held down by someone or responsibilities was his way of living. You couldn't blame him though, when during your time of knowing him you caught feelings. He was just such a sweetheart, he took you on dates, held your hands, whispered sweet nothings in your ears after a long tiring day. It all seemed so good and like he was your actual boyfriend. That's why seeing him with another woman shattered your fragile heart. He had the same look he did with you, that heart eyes. You knew from the beginning that there was never supposed to catch feelings. You had someone how managed to fall down a rabbit hole of falling for jake sim. Anything to get those sweet memories, the cuddling sessions the anything back again. You just wanted him to choose you.

Sunghoon - " I'd give it all up if you told me that I'd be the number one girl in your eyes"

You knew Sunghoon before he even became a trainee, you were his ice skating partner. You knew the shy boy ever since you two were kids and grew up together on the rink. You saw his goods and bad's and you had a ton of respect for him. That's why, during one evening practice when he asked you out you were basically jumping with joy. You couldn't imagine a childhood friends to lovers story buts that exactly what was happening. Practice was so much fun, so much better with someone who loved you there. especially because your parents forced to you to join but weren't even supportive. When he told you that he became a trainee for Be-lift Labs you were so excited for him, you knew that this is what he's wanted for a long time. what you didn't know was how hang-ups and dates became shorter and less often. he would even sometimes leaving you alone and embarrassed in a cafe desperately trying to call him. How your time and memories started to drift apart with him being so focused on debuting and you continuing your career. You had tried to reach out, plan dates and all but nothing. It was all in vain as you saw him on the TV, just announced as a member of the new and upcoming boy group ENHYPEN. What he didn't know was that you were okay with giving up your ice skates, just for a last hug.

[sillygoosealert]

Daisy, hi! How did you come up with the user sillygoodealert? Bc that concubine fic had such a silly ending 🥲🙂 lmao jk but seriously I was thinking what if before the maid concubine reader offs herself, we see her side of being treated like shit by the other girls and staff and sukuna himself during the day and then trying to not be shell shocked when he treats her so sweetly in his chambers. especially when he continuously humiliates her and one day eve punishes her extra harshly in front of everyone after she makes a mistake and then he still expects her to pretend as if it didn’t even happen when he wishes to spend time with her that same night.

Who knows just thinking further about the story you created, ty for sharing your work it’s so delish 🤤

In the morning - Just a week later

That's my legal name because i am the mayor of silly town

I had a BAD day so ANGST NO COMFORT NO COMFORT 😠😠

Dub-con(so there is a little bit of smut 😲) he's kinda abusive?? uhhh mention of blood

If someone asked Sukuna if he was ever satisfied with everything he had, the answer would be no. But once, he got very close to it.

To be satisfied is to settle, and Sukuna never settled. Not for anything or anyone. However, one night, while you laid next to him, it almost felt like he would be okay with living like that.

Knowing he could have more than what he had at the time stopped him from deeming it satisfactory.

So he strived for more. A more significant and fulfilling feeling, more.

What waited for him in the morning was a clean room and a cold bed. Although you were supposed to be beside him as of now, there was a cold, neatly made spot in replacement.

After 8 minutes of stretching, 2 minutes of sitting and silence, and deciding what kimono he would like to adorn today- he came out of his enclosure.

Standing just a few feet from his door, you were unhurriedly dusting off the chandeliers scattered across the ceiling- on a ladder, without anyone supporting it from the bottom.

After a few quick strides, he kicks the ladder from its place. There isn't a real reason why he did it. It was more impulsive than anything. But as he watches your body hit the floor, blood dribble out of your nose, a feeling of superiority overcomes him.

Even though he was the one to do this to you, he still helps you up and carries you to bed in his arms. Your blood is smearing across his arms and hands as he wipes away tears that come out as you shake and beg for him to stop. It's no longer a quiet morning, but he got what he wanted- a warmer bed and a more obedient woman.

Nothing good comes out of upsetting Sukuna- or sometimes just being around him. He doesn't have to be in a bad mood to take things out on you. The bruises on your body should be enough evidence of that. Sometimes, you question if it's enough to feel pity on you, though.

There will always be someone to ask what you did. Occasionally, that someone is you. Late at night, curled up listening to him treating another woman with something similar to adoration.

His voice isn't necessarily loud, but it's the only thing you can hear when it is well past curfew.

He coos encouragement and praise while gentle skin-on-skin can be heard if you listen for it.

At the moment, you're jealous. That should be you. When that is you, though, you dread walking into his enclosure.

The day after you watched him toss away any love or respect he had, for 15 minutes of sugar-coated sex, something changed with him.

He held your waist as he guided you to the edge of his bed, an eager grin plastered on his face. Lifting you and laying you on the one-too-many pillows he suddenly had.

One hand found yours as something wet licked your pussy. It was slimy and unwanted, and you kept quiet because you were in complete shock.

You saw how clean the sheets were when you walked in. You hoped it was a sick coincidence. But the feeling of Déjà vu sank deep into your body, as well as his tongue did. And as you checked to make sure- the pillows were fluffed up. The smell of a specific woody soap was stuck to him, and he was gripping your hand a little harder each time your breath started to increase.

"My Lord-" You wanted to ask him to stop, but the words couldn't come out as fluently as your tears would.

When you started to sob, he pulled away and looked at you with disarray. All you could do was shake your head and wrap your arms around yourself.

He sent you back to your own room without a word.

The other concubines must have noticed the shift in your status- or maybe he complained to them about you. That is one of life's great mysteries.

They treat you noticeably differently than they did before- for the worse. A thought that crosses through your mind is they were scared to be anything less than indifferent to you before, for they would most definitely receive a punishment. But now? The treatment of your counterparts and the King of Curses is almost equal- with him being the only one to break your trust, as the other concubines made it clear they were not your friends from the start.

As of now, they weren't afraid to push you aside in the hallways or scold you for nearly slipping on the freshly mopped floor.

Your new nickname is Lummox- which means a clumsy, stupid person. That's not too far off from what you are, so you don't take too much offense.

But people now use it to call out to you and grab your attention it becomes all you can use to describe yourself when you think about what you did to get here.

Even now, as you curl into yourself late in the night, what keeps you up is what will now wait for you in the morning.

I have such a massive hatetrid for my own writting it's almost astonishing I put anything out. I can't re-read anything I put out because I get so upset that I can not put into words how I feel- the one thing people expect of me.

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