#idk if it's boyish necessarily

[little-pup-pip]

could I have a puppy/angel themed board please? without pacis and more boyish?

Here you go!!

[missing2socks]

My Miguel O’Hara Headcanons! (18+)

fem!reader, 18+

CW: descriptive talk of kinks & body stuffs, pure smut and lewdness, sex, more sex, and my darker hcs at the bottom.

You’ve been warned :-)

Oh Miguel where can I even begin

Tall, strong, and handsome. In his younger days he’s buff and muscled, peak physique with dark brown hair and a smooth complexion. Thick brown hair slicked back, every chiseled part of his face visible to everyone around him.

When he’s an older dilf he’s got a little bit of a dad bod, still buff but he’s still got it. Hair still slicked back and dark brown eyes that could melt your heart.

Sure he’s stoic and comes off as crabby and rude but we don’t care :3

I never see any tomboy representation so I like to imagine his type is a strong willed tomboyish type of woman. Does it matter how she looks? No! But me personally I like to think he loves women with short hair, an attitude, and boyish mannerisms.

It doesn’t matter how tall you are— he’s always taller. You could be petite or curvy and he’ll still toss you over his shoulder and make you beat at his back to put you down.

Now into the NSFW 😏

Miguel, the thick man he is, has a fat cock— just difficult to stretch to his size. It’s not impossible but somehow it feels impossible when it’s stuffed in those guts mmmhhhh and it goes so deep it’s delicious

His dick stands proud at 7 and a half inches long, and is thick like a mf. I like to imagine he’s uncut and it’s slightly darker than the rest of his body. Thick veins that you can trace with your fingers or your tongue, his cock swollen and slightly redder at the tip than the rest of the member. Tilts downwards for the best gspot stimulation and slightly tilting towards the left…

Don’t think his sack won’t do anything because when he has you bent over in doggy the way those nuts hit the clit is so !!!

In bed he’s dominant and mean, having you helpless in his arms while he makes you a whining, whimpering mess under him. Soft dom, only a hard dom when he’s had a bad day at work or is pent up and angry.

He will fuck anywhere, anytime, and he has a ridiculous amount of energy. It’s actually unfair how he can go round after round without getting exhausted. Both of your sweaty bodies laying on the bed, you’re sore and used and you feel him stiffen and slowly push back into you, kissing you to hush your whines as he quickly picks up the pace again.

Predator/prey dynamic 😋 as a vampire he loves marking you up and leaving hickeys and love bites everywhere visible and invisible. He’s yours and you’re his, his precious little mami.

Service dom 100% AND a praise kink that drives you wild. Showers you with praises as he bullies his thick cock into your pussy. He loves to make your orgasm, never having the heart to deny you the pleasure of cumming for and on him.

“Mi nena, you’re doing so good taking it all, mm, t’so good amor,”

“Give me one more, baby, jus’ one more cariño, don’t cry just let me use this perfect pussy tonight…”

Breeding kink. Round after round of rough fucking and he’s still not done— being his universe’s spiderman gives him an unfair amount of stamina during sex— filling you over and over with his seed until you’re slightly bloated and dazed.

And when you get pregnant he’s all over you, showering you with love and affection for the baby in your belly. And he has a deep carnal desire to fuck you deep and sensually while you’re swollen with his child, his mouth latched onto your leaky, milk-engorged tits.

My Darker Headcanons below!

CW: somno, CNC(?), free use, more edgy fantasy but not necessarily dead dove do not eat (idk)

Turn back now, you have been warned

I fantasized that Miguel just wants to take reader captive & use them as a toy, to fuck senseless even if they’re whining and protesting and clawing at his back it’s just so hotttt

You’ll beg and whine and plead for him to go easy, take a break, and he shuts you up with passionate, sloppy kisses before he cums deep inside you. So deep, you’d think he’s trying to get as much of it as possible directly into your womb.

And he’ll fuck a baby into you trust me, he’ll be so happy that he can’t help but give you more after the birth of your first baby, just a few more, he loves stuffing his loads into you and seeing you slowly grow his baby.

Definitely into the free use kink or even somno…

When he comes home from a rough day of being spiderman, he sees your soft sleeping body in one of his shirts and he can’t help but nestle behind you, pulling his half-chub cock out and lazily dragging it between your folds. You wake up to the feeling of him pushing his fat cock inside you, and he covers your mouth before you can make any noises.

He’ll sink his fangs into the soft flesh of your neck, groaning as he hears your soft muffled cries, stretching you around his girth and slowly rutting inside those slick walls.

Or for free use maybe you’re spiderwoman from a different universe and he sees you and he can’t help but feel horny and aroused seeing you in your spidersuit but you love being bratty and misbehaving… also goes back to the predator/prey dynamic

He’ll track you down and corner you in a dark alleyway, throwing your small body on the ground, tearing off your suit and having his way with you, rutting into you and forcing you all the way down on his cock while his claws dig into your skin. Your helpless moans and cries go unheard as he groans filthy words in your ears, snarling at you to shut up and take it.

And when he’s done he’ll leave you to pick yourself up, of course after giving you feverish kisses and love bites to your neck to remind you that you’re his and only his. But he’ll leave you, pussy swollen and his cum gushing and pooling between your legs, thighs twitching and body trembling from the orgasms he ripped from you.

Oh but I’d still give him a bit fat sloppy kiss :-)

[pineappleciders]

hey!! i saw that ur writing reqs were open and i was wondering if u could write (platonic) hcs of the main 4 finding out their friend, reader, is trans ftm?

++reader transitioned before meeting the main 4 and is afraid of revealing it to them, worried that their relationship as friends might change somehow or they might not even see him as a guy anymore

take your time!! i love ur writing btw !!!!!!

sp main 4 finding out reader is trans ftm

A/N: thank you so much!!! i can do a mtf or nb vers for anyone who wants it :) i'm sorry if anything is offensive or anything!!!

TRIGGER WARNING: some transphobia on cartmans part (i know this sounds bad but jsut read it😭) and probably some talk about dingalings and hoohas (very briefly)

stan marsh

he's curious about it!! like he'll ask a bunch of questions about how you found out and what it means and stuff

he honestly probably doesn't know a lot about it before u explain it to him. like he knows people are transgender but he never learned about gender dysphoria or why people transition

he might ask a few,, personal questions. he genuinely doesn't mean to be rude or weird he's just curious !! will stop and apologize if you are uncomfortable

"seriously, you don't look like you were born a girl. i never would've been able to tell."

it might make him question his own gender??? like he might talk to you about it sometimes and he explains it as 'not really feeling like either a boy or a girl'

other than that he doesn't really care, like he doesn't treat you any differently. honestly he probably forgets it if anything😭😭 like in the T.M.I. episode he asks why you aren't lining up to get ur wiener measured and then he's like oh yeah oops i forgot💀

kyle broflovski

"oh. really? like, actually? huh."

he's honestly just confused as you've never said anything about it before. he might ask why you didn't tell him but when you explain he understands and tells you he wouldn't view you differently no matter what

"i mean, i think it's stupid that some people deliberately go out of their way to misgender people. like, you've been a boy and i've always seen you as a boy, so why would i purposefully make you feel bad? that's just stupid!"

he appreciates if you teach him a bit more about it, 'cause he doesn't know a whole lot

i feel like he'd purposefully do more,, boyish things with you???? like he invites you to play football or play video games more or like idk. do boy things.

he doesn't do it to single you out, he just really wants to make sure you feel like you fit in with the rest of the guys, so he's always inviting you to meetings with the dudes and treating you like a brother

eric cartman

i feel like there are a lot of different ways this could go, but mainly i feel like he's never actually going to view you as a girl?? if that makes sense

like he'll make fun of you and probably tease you (similar the whole sand in kyles vagina thing and calling him ms. broflovski and shit yk??) but no matter how much he tries to crack transphobic jokes he still sees you as a guy

he honestly might be a little uncomfortable at first because he feels like you're 'a spy for the girls'. but he quickly gets a stern talking-to from kyle and at least doesn't voice that opinion anymore

either way as much as he hates it he still sees you as a dude, if anything it just makes him uncomfortable to think about ur (or anyones) sex so he just goes with the flow. literally dress up as anything and he'll treat you like it. he doesn't want to put that much effort into caring

so yeah he makes fun of you and misgenders you but not in a genuine way. he can try but he still views u as one of the guys so he just accepts it and moves on. again he doesn't care enough to dwell on it

kenny mccormick

he might ask a few questions like stan but he genuinely on god fr doesn't care. it literally does not affect his view on you at all

he doesn't necessarily fully understand what being trans means but he doesn't really need to to understand that u are what u are. like if ur happy being a dude then be a dude he doesn't get what's so hard to grasp for some people

kenny isn't really one for labels. he also hasn't really explored his gender and stuff and honestly?? he doesn't plan on it. it just doesn't matter to him, he's fine with just living his life (when he's actually alive and living it)

even if he does have a few erm personal questions he keeps them to himself. he knows it could be a touchy subject and he really just thinks that whatever you were born as isn't any of his business

he will defend u whenever you face harassment from certain people, like he honestly just tells them that it's not their business and to fuck off. he mostly jumps in because he knows it probably hurts to hear stuff like that and tries to tell you that it doesn't matter what other people think, all that matters is that ur happy in your skin :)

[mono-red-menace]

sorry just thinking about how often growing up i'd do things and be so full of shame and try to hide them and not know why im hiding it

like listening to britney spears or watching "girl" shows or playing with my sister's dolls or playing my sister's dating games or like all of that stuff.

like. i mean it's not necessarily that i didn't know why i was hiding it, but like. not knowing why i couldn't stop myself from loving them? yk?

like why did i feel so drawn to do "girl" things? even through the shame? even though i had to hide it? even though i'd risk getting caught?

why did i feel like i Had to do it?

why was i so drawn to the books targeted towards little girls that were my age?

why did boy things not really interest me?

i spent so much of my time growing up doing things boys were "supposed" to like to do, pretending i enjoyed them, to cover my shame, which was that the things i enjoyed the most were things that boys Weren't supposed to enjoy.

i liked playing with my sister's dolls and i liked my sister's games and i liked my sister's shows and i liked my sister's music and i liked girl things and i hated guy things and i didn't even realise i felt like this until i was reading if i was your girl lately and i was reading about the character and thinking about how she's kinda a stereotypical trans girl and then. i realised.

like uh

the barrier over my childhood broke down. and i realised how my childhood was balancing the shame of my girliness with the facade of boyishness.

and how for literally my entire life i was a stereotypical little girl. i was girlier than my sister. i liked girl things more than her and liked boy things less. i liked playing with her bratz dolls and playing her dating game more than she did.

but i wasnt Allowed. yk?

and like this wall is just Open now yk?

and im remembering in whipping girl how julia serano talks about how things like this are somewhere between nature and nurture

bc like if it was entirely nature. then why would we have girly boys and boyish girls?

and if it was entirely nurture, then why do the girly boys and boyish girls persist Through societal pressure against them?

shouldnt the pressure drive them away from that?

and maybe its because the only people i felt safe around and loved by in my life were women, yk.

and its fully 100% nurture and i just didnt have a man i felt safe around. so i naturally developed into a girlier boy,

but also like maybe there Is some nature to it. maybe im just naturally empathetic and sensitive and artistic and all of those things, and maybe those natural qualities in me lead me toward "girl" things, even though im not supposed to like them, yk?

idk.

[clavidy]

transfem beil... tell me more i wanna hear ur thoughts and reasonings and etc

okay so like..... neils transfem not in the trans woman way but the ambiguous, unlabeled explorative way. like, wants to be more than just a boy. if that makes sense.

neils always felt uncomfortable with being called a boy in the strict, cut and dry way that welton does, but doesn't mind when it's more of an open statement. neil doesn't necessarily feel like a woman or a man or neither, rather a kind of mix of all. neil especially wants to play puck because puck is an ambiguously gendered, feminine-yet-boyish character and neil really connects with that and wants to express that feminine lightness that puck has without being attacked for acting "improper"

idk though. neil is just so boygirl little fawn prancing around a field of flowers. full of whimsy and light.

[lanshappycorner]

Hello again :), I had a random head cannon/theory of mine about (you guessed it) orter and wirth. I think personally that wirth physically takes after their father more, based on what I saw in the manga and anime, despite the fact that orter and he have similar markings. I dunno, it’s just something that tickled the noggin, and makes me think that maybe that’s one of the reasons orter went MIA when wirth was growing up . I can see both of them having a bad/not good relationship with their father. Alrighty my ramble is over.

Hiii

I'm going to be so honest with you the only thing running through my head after reading that was you know that thing ppl say where the worst most hurtful most argument ending thing you could ever say to your sibling during an argument is "you're just like dad" yeah💀💀

Orter is mean but actually I don't think he'd stoop that low. But I know. I know that if he ever said those magic words it might kill Wirth on the spot actually like straight up demolish him emotionally in ways he didn't even know he could feel hurt ❤️

Also this gets kind of long so I'm going to put it under the cut

As for the hc itself !! I personally think that both brothers resemble their dad quite a bit already (maybe Wirth does look a little closer to their dad due to his more?? Boyish?? Features idk how to explain it but i feel like it wouldn't deter Orter from talking to him like i genuinely think Orter was just kind of being a dick <3), but aside from my personal opinion if this hc was the case then I could in fact see it devastating Wirth

Like all his life he's wanted to chase after his brother and he's never gotten an explanation as to why his brother was so cold him (he just assumed everyone in his family was like this so of course his brother was too). And I'm sure he probably hates his dad the most in the family like everythings all that guy's fault, so to find out his brother saw his dad in him must be...a revelation 💀

I think Orter's relationship with his dad is bad but like in an Asian parent way where it's so complicated because he doesn't hate his dad like his brother does but he doesn't like him either and clearly his dad fucked up his childhood

But also it's hard for him to necessarily hate his dad because it's not like his dad can do anything to him anymore like the worst is he attends family dinners and his dad asks how much he's making nowadays idk

(I also think that Orter lives separately from his family though and he dreads coming home. He likes his cozy little house with its own funky library that he can just chill in and he will do whatever he can to avoid going back to the Mádl household, even taking on jobs during vacations to not go home lol. People think he's like a workaholic and he is but also he just doesn't want to go back to the hellhole😭

Wirth thinks Orter hates him and that's why he never comes home but when Wirth graduates Orter's just like "I know you don't like me but do you want to stay over at my place until you get a job and can afford a house or something" and Wirth is like "what" and that's how he found out his brother has been doing the Literal Most to avoid being around their fuckass parents for the past like decade 💀💀)

[anakin-vaders]

Unpopular opinion but so far Lestat and Gabrielle's relationship isn't as weird as some of y'all made it seem. Like, they eat and kill people, there's not much things that can make them be worse "people" they're undead, human morals don't apply here.

I'm really interested in how Lestat feelings for her are not necessarily bc she's his mother, but rather bc she looks like him and he likes that, and bc she's having boyish attitudes and on the end bc of the vampire bond??? Like he described his feelings for Magnus similarly so...idk. I'm halfway TVL and yeah it's weird, but also Lestat is pretty much like, you're no longer my mother, you're Gabrielle. Idk.

[natdrinkstea]

Zelda 3 - L + un

so this one isn't writing as much as it is a little thought exercise @haijinks and I use to keep each other occupied and it is What Would Our Perfect BOTW/TOTK follow-up look like?

putting this under a cut :) it's long :)

our basic premise so far (Nintendo you can pay us $10000000 to use this) is that it's about five (maybe ten?) ish years post totk and link is visibly older! late 20s, early 30s, less boyish and more of a Real Adult. He's still getting used to having Both Arms Again, but in general everything is Normal now? Rebuilding after the Calamity is near finished, Tulin and Riju are all grown up (😭), and in general everything is chill. until! inciting incident! don't freak out, but Ganon's once again trying come back. BOO! but in my vision his soul or whatever is a sort of shooting star, a meteorite slowly falling from the sky directly towards Hyrule castle. (Imagine a huge ball of white-red light hovering above the castle throughout the game. UGH. isn't that COOL).

Guess Link is back at it again!

Because I miss them, Link has to go on a little cross-country journey, Zelda in tow, to attempt to convince the Sages/Champions to- you guessed it- BRING THE DIVINE BEASTS BACK! and he has a little quest in each region similar to botw where we get to reprogram each divine beast to aim its laser towards the Ganon Meteor. in these little quests we get to see how the last fifteenish years have really impacted the people of this world- two world-ending catastrophes that close together have got to leave a mark. how did Tulin and Riju manage growing up in Revali and Urbosa's footsteps, and having to save the world so young? Is Yunobo cool again? Is Sidon still hot?

our idea for the Gerudo/Naboris quest specifically was that just before the time this takes place, word got out about the existence of a young gerudo who (gasp!) is a boy. this isn't necessarily bad, but after ganondorf everyone's a bit on edge. so, zelda and link go to check it out, and learn that this kid's totally normal, just a bit desperate to prove his worth after being Hidden In Shame for so long. it'd be sad and about generational trauma or whatever

other things of note:

-> ZELDA DOESN'T DISAPPEAR IN THIS ONE! She actually travels with Link for some of the more plot-heavy portions of the game! I think she maybe provides some cool mechanic or something, like the memories in BOTW but if they weren't pictures. Maybe she's just a walking sheikah slate/purah pad lmao. AMD SHE CAN BE HELPFUL IN COMBAT. somehow. we haven't figured it out. can you summon her like the Sages? who knows

-> similarly, Zelda was fucked up big time by the Dragon-ing and I think another main quest has something to do with the fallout of that. maybe her cool powers are fucking up, or she has scary nightmares about being a dragon again, or visions or smth. idk man. wouldn't it be cool though.

-> link gets a third set of cool new superpowers. no ideas for what those would be

-> you can sit down whenever you want in this one

-> MY BIGGEST NEW ADDITION: because totk introduced the sky islands and the depths as new areas, we have ... drumroll.... two new divine beasts!! that's right, in the last few years people have made these areas hospitable and that means they need a giant robot animal too. to fit in. In my heart the depths beast is a snake, with the mechanic being that it's coiled around a huge stalagmite and you can rotate it up or down from the map. the sky one is a dragonfly!!!!!! and maybe it flaps its wings in a fun way! who knows!

-> you can decorate Link's house in Hateno however you want. just because I want to

-> nothing about shrines yet! I'm thinking maybe a weird mixture of the botw and totk ones? but we're not totally sure.

-> At the beginning of the game Link decides he is Retired and puts the Master Sword back!!! By the Deku Tree! so you have to get it back! but it's different this time somehow. somehow. we don't know everything.

send ideas if u have them!!! this is basically fanfiction

[internetmisfitsworld]

So the reveal trailer just dropped. Got some thoughts running in my mind and here's a few of them:

So, the rumors are true. Julian Kostov is Makarov. And I'm not sure how to feel about it.

Am I happy they still (yes people. he has always been attractive. go look up his concept art) choose to make him hot? Of course. Grateful even. I pretty much swore if they pull a Shepherd makeover on him, I'll lose it. However, am I happy with how he looks? Not really. Was hoping they cast someone that, while not necessarily have to look the exact the same as OG Makarov, at least have the same vibe. (Idk how to describe it but yeah I hope it makes sense lmao)

Idk what age Activision intends to make him (mid 30s? early 40s?), but that man looks late 20s 😭 . I'm not saying he looks.. what's the word? boyish? but yeah something similar I guess.

I know Activision must've noticed the hype of making villains hot, and I agree with that thought but why they made him "pretty boy" looks?

For me, Makarov have the appearance of "unconventionally attractive". He have that sort of rugged face with scars all over, dead predatory bicolor eyes. Basically, dude actually looks kinda old and you can get the hint that he was a veteran. Unless Actvision really do intends on making the new him younger and have a different past, well okay then. Also, I know the lighting wasn't that good in that prison, but it seems like he no longer had heterochromia. Welp.

Speaking of veteran, I'm curious if they choose to keep his past the same as before. Was he in the army? Was he ex-Spetsnaz Captain? Same reason for being discharge? Same place of birth? Well, I guess we'll have to see in the next trailer. Or when the game comes out. I swear if they turn him into some kind of Non-Action Big Bad...

No sign of Yuri. Wonders who will play him. Will he looks the same as before? (you know what? forget i ask that.)

Even more funny twist if they decides to just forget about Yuri (don't you dare Activision).

Soo his tattoos. I don't wanna comment anything about it since I don't have enough and proper knowledge of Russian prison tattoos, how it works and stuff. So, I'll just leave that alone. It does looks good though. But funny enough, someone at tiktok said he lowkey looks Jared Leto Joker. Even the hairstyle. Ofc, not the colors though. And now, I can't unsee it either.

However, I do appreciate how obviously intimidating his presence affects the other prisoners. Just a shame about his face though.

On a positive note, I'm excited to see how the event will unfold. From the trailer, there seems to a few glimpse of missions, some of those looks like No Russian even?

Another one of my "in denial thoughts" is, what if the whole prison thing was flashback Makarov? And in the present time, someone else plays him? (yeah yeah i know. i'll stop ✋️)

To conclude, I hope at the very least in this new version Makarov, they give him what the OG Makarov lacks. Proper characterizations, motives and in-depth personality. More than just "hohoho evil russian wants to take over europe".

And no, I'm not asking Activision to gives justification of his actions. Yes, he's evil. Yes, he's a murderous maniac. No justification for that dude lol. I just ask at least give us a peek of his past life. Who he was and who he could've been.

[neonstatic]

i've made some big realisations today. first, the issue i have w the person who i think hates my guts is just that they don't react to me the way i want. i'm a people pleaser - we already established this, so we know it runs deep and while it does not make me inherently fake (trust me, i'm not bending over backwards for ppl i truly dislike, i have a little dignity), it does make me act a certain way if i feel like ppl are slipping away from me. i can get a little...ciingy? desperate? i dunnooo it doesn't necessarily show but emotionally i'm often in the trenches.

so yeah, this person is more distant than i want them to be... so what? they're allowed. we don't have to be besties. they got their friends and i've got mine. i shouldn't feel so attacked by the fact that they don't feel the same way abt me. no matter how (supposedly) charming i make myself, i'm not entitled to their attention or special treatment. and just bc i'm not getting the reaction i'm seeking doesn't mean i'm doing smth wrong or that they hate me. it's not that deep, ray. and if to feel ok abt it, i have put in less efforts on my end, then sure! and then everyone is happy and all is well c: i was making it out to be sooo serious when it didn't have to be. sometimes ppl don't care for you as much as you do... life goes on.

second realisation or rather confirmation... is that i rly wanna go on t! when i think of the future and i imagine myself looking the way i do now, i feel pretty...disappointed. resigned even. like, oh i guess this is me lmao. but when i think abt the best ver of myself? it's a short, pudgy, lowkey buff person who's kind of pretty in the face. and idk that it would change much abt the way i dress, i might own a lot less dresses, but nothing can keep me away from skirts. my beloveds...

anyway yeah! i gotta find the right time to tell my sister. probably soon. idk abt my family tho :// tuesday my dad was here and my sis showed him pics of me in my most boyish looks and he looked....speechless? but he saved them right away cus he says he has v little pics of me on my own. which is true, i hadn't realised that. he's got bunch of pics of me next to my sisters when we were little but they're waay outdated. but yeah i jokingly asked him what he thought of his son and he just didn't say nothing, just kept looking at the pics. i feel like he got his own kind of revelations that night.

(also my sisters and i discussed what kind of names the parents would've gotten had they had a son and we agreed on francis, w frankie as a nicki. i'm mulling it over... tossing it around in my head like a ball... the only sure thing is that i will forever be Ray!)

[msfbgraves]

(Daniel does like pregnancy sex, because for the first 8 years of his marriage, it's basically all he's ever had!) Lmao, bless him, constantly with a cute tummy and all. So…what’s sex like when Danny isn’t pregnant then? Can Terry be less…idk, “considerate” and does Daniel want it a bit…again, idk, rougher? Like some wild sex lmao. And when Daniel was pregnant, has any Alpha touched him in some way, even just a small touch because he’s so irresistible during this time? Did Terry lose it or did Daniel not mind—after all, Omegas are very physical, right?

First of all, this is omegaverse, so you shouldn't disregard heats. All bets are off during heats. Those aren't cuddlefests!

Secondly, I think you can be considerate without necessarily being soft all the time. It's simply paying attention to what your partner wants, too. To speak with Terry, it is perfectly possible to give someone the ride of their life while caring about their pleasure. His Danny quite likes - well that's none of your business, is it?! When he's not pregnant or nursing, yeah, maybe he's a bit more boyish at times. A bit more playfighting, and yet he can still be so soft it breaks Terry's heart.

About the touching, I've gone into that before and sometimes Terry will allow touching during dancing at parties. Can't really be avoided. May even be a little treat. But especially during family affairs on either side more casual touching happens and it leaves Terry seething. If it happens at his house that Alpha would have to be a particular brand of stupid, and if any of the young'uns get any ideas, there's usually others that jump up like "nope, nope nope!" and stop them before it happens.

[Why then does Terry allow them at his house? Exposure therapy. Can't have a job go south because the other side throws in an omega and a young Alpha completely loses their head. It's happened before. Like this, they learn how to stay on the damn job.]

Daniel btw is the one who is very free with his affections. Anoush is much more reserved among strangers, Johnny is masking so much he doesn't know what to do with himself.

[gretagerwigsmuse]

dear lord when i get to heaven please let me bring my man when he comes tell me that you’ll let him in father tell me if you can all that grace all that body all that face makes me wanna party ✊🏻 i am properly SHAKING?!?!! i have a lot to say - even more i’ve already divulged in live texts. but the now and then of it all?!? the au sweet girl and bradley!?! MUCH more below 💕

“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. - okay first the way in this universe she’s still on that whole ‘rooster’ thing here!?! and second i can just picture her shoulders caving in and her refusing to make eye contact with anyone! and then the shift later!?! like miss girl no! your first time was with BRADLEY! also i need to know if either of them has romantic feelings for the other yet? like if they’ve been pining a bit?

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. - even years later he’s still so self deprecating about this!! ofc she’d consider you her first still!?! no one’s ever made her feel so safe and comfortable before

You were supposed to be going on a first date tonight, but he’d talked you into canceling to hang out with him instead. - any time this is mentioned i always get so sad? like i got tears in my eyes. and it’s not necessarily mean on his part and he knows it selfish, but it still makes me sad? like bradley why do you think she does this so easily for you?

He didn’t just want the highlights with you, he wanted everything in between too. - i like how this kind of connects back to his feelings in like i can? he doesn’t want to be friend of the family, he wants everything

But it was like an unspoken agreement between the two of you to not talk about your sex lives with each other. - gee bradley i wonder why!?!

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. - idk bradley it’s probably the same reason why you had a knot in your stomach when jake asked her the question!!?

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. - I KNEW IT I KNEW IT and i loved the reveal later

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. - she’s stronger than i am tbh. that tight uva shirt would’ve done me right in to say nothing about Him

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. - it’s so pretty there and i really love all the thought he put into the entire visit for her! and don’t get me started on the wishing well! i love what you made of it over text!

The backyard was all strung up with red and green Christmas lights - THE INFAMOUS RED AND GREEN LIGHTS AT THE FRAT!!! i love all the little nudges to the official like i can series (also him opening all her drinks is so cute)

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. - i think so too! because he actually got to be a college kid? sure he was in nrotc and all that, but he still got to do silly thinks like streak across the lawn and be in a frat and throw up on his 21st birthday and he wouldn’t have gotten to do any of that at the naval academy (trust me lol). it’s nice bradley got to be a kid for a little longer

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. - don’t get me started on this. the whole sleepaway camp thing absolutely made me melt, it’s so sweet and just hammers home that they’re still ‘kids’ together? there’s just something so pure about it and i think that even carrie’s through to when she asks bradley to be her first?

You nod, looking anywhere else other than at him. - she does this a lot when she’s embarrassed/unsure 🤭 but like tbh he’d make me nervous too

“Bradley, I was wondering if you’d be my first?” - BRADLEY was your first! BRADLEY! not ROOSTER!

He’d pick you every time. - oh bubs 🥺 (also going back to like i can because HE picks HER to be his date for the bet 🥺)

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?” - and that’s how i picture her at the hard deck later (earlier?? later? idk)! like she’s so defeated already, but then again like at the hard deck, bradley comes to her rescue and says something so she isn’t wallowing for too long

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. - because he’s never let himself! he’s never fed into the thought! i wonder if this sweet girl has though?

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. - oh bradley!! like i said earlier, he’s so self deprecating about this! ‘he’d let you down before’ 🥺 dark days bradley 🥺. but bradley, you know her! you know she wouldn’t ask unless it was for a specific reason, like it’s not because she has a crush on you (tbh tbd on that) or wants to make you fall in love with her! she wouldn’t ask unless she’d really thought about it

The two of you were supposed to go to the movies, but that definitely wasn’t happening now. - okay but would they have seen? the gag worthy (affectionate) 9/11 deux ex machina of remember me? green zone for matt damon? or a sleeper screening of the february favorite shutter island?

“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…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.” - she’s preaching to the choir! that was me tbh, but i was more of a bradley in the end re the regrets

“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. - this is SO cute! and i like that it’s kind of still both their firsts? and maybe you could even make the case that it’s his first ‘official’ time too? idk like what he said at the beginning of thinking she would say who her first ‘official’ time is?

“I’ll do whatever you need, got it?” - this is so older bradley too! like i can’t quite describe it with words, but it’s so him still

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. - this and the bit with the sheets are so unbelievably sweet ☺️

“What’s with the look, Bradshaw? Don’t tell me you’re going to lie back and think of England?” - i always love this joke, i made it a lot in some other fics i’ve written actually

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. - got a little something more than friendship out of it now sweet girl!

…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. // He’d never seen anything so strangely endearing as it was watching you shimmy your underwear off under the shield of his covers. - i loved how you handled this and how he finds it so endearing? but also i like that he’s just like standing there kind of frozen still?

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. - oh he’s so prettyyyyyy 🤭 the fact that she hasn’t seen him in about a year is also sooooo good! like it just further shows how much he’s changed in her eyes? very fitting! (also i love that he’s careful with their clothes, but still hesitant to pick up her underwear 🥺)

“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. - STOP THIS!! it’s so cute goddddddd

“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. - don’t - don’t do this to me already. i like that he later clocks that she likes this and being called a good girl/atta girl 🤭

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 okay, kid. I got you.” - STOP!!! i love this so much! and knowing before she’d always get tense or too in her head!? but with bradley she’s okay with it!?!!!

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. - bradley….bffr dude like come on! that’s not how it was like you’ve been circling her clit and are about to have your fingers inside her amongst other things haha

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. - i’m obsessed with this. like bradley thinks, she’s genuinely surprised like how could i do this to him? now it’s her turn to bffr

“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. - AHHHHHHH I LOVE IT SO MUCH! he’s so pleased with himself already and she def likes some praise thrown in there 🤭

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. - i like how they BOTH are staring at his arm/hand?

He should have known you’d be bossy. - the praise kink and being bossy/bratty go hand in hand

“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. - oh 🥺☺️ her eyes are def wide and her face is absolutely so open and honest. but i think he’s scared to let her? like if it’s about her that’s okay in his book? but if she makes it about him, that’s uncharted territory? and not saying a hojo makes it about him? but like that wasn’t part of the original deal? if that makes sense?

“You can grip it a little firmer,” he coaches. You nod studiously, like you’re going to be tested on it later. - coaches is such a good verb choice here

“You’re such a goddamn menace.” - oh i love it 🤭

You hold up your pinky to him, “I’ll tell you.” He wraps his own crooked one around yours and gives it a shake. - STOP!!! this is so summer camp!!! i love that’s it’s still so Them? (also i just remembered what the summer camp line reminded me of and it’s when gabriella makes the ‘like kindergarten’ comment in high school musical, it’s just so sweet)

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. - ENOUGH!!! HE DOESNT KISS HER ONCE EXCEPT ON THE SHOULDER AND FOREHEAD AND CLAVICLE AND THEN HE KISSES HER FOR THE FIRST TIME LATER AT THE HARD DECK BYEEE

“Am I not…” you trail off. He doesn’t think he’s ever heard you sound this shy with him before. - oh 🥺 sweet girl! he just wants to make sure it’s the best for you! (also i like that they both ask about the birth control and the condom)

…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. - oh 🥺 that’s so pretty alexa!

He’s been so good to you. He is so good to you. He’s the best person you know. - but he doesn’t think he’s good enough for her oh wow

There’s something about this that reminds you of the time he tried to teach you how to skateboard. - like summer camp, like kindergarten

“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?” - K I L L M E wowowow i’m obsessed with this!! she sounds so vulnerable, but then…

He huffs an incredulous laugh, and brushes back some hair from off your face, “You feel really fucking good, sweet-” - THE SWEET GIRL CUT OFF WOWOWOWOWOWOWOWOW BYE

You didn’t expect to even come once and you’re well on your way to a third. - girl bffr as if that man wouldn’t make sure

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. - 22 year old bradley def has some moves haha

You don’t think your faces have ever been closer than they are now. Bradley is breathing your air, and you’re breathing his. - i love stuff like this so much

“C’mon, kid. You’re right there,” he breathes hard, “I need you to come for me. Just one more.” - and that’s it! good for her

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. - jesusfuckingchrist some bitches have all the luck for a first time

“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. - i love that he’s trying to make light of it with the specific words and tone, but goddddddddd it’s so intimate and sweet. like that’s love, whether romantic or not that’s love

You’re still you. And Bradley is still Bradley. It was just… something between friends. - oh 🥺 why did this make me tear up

“You didn’t think you’d be getting that diploma all by yourself, did you?” - STOP!!! this is so sweet oh wow. my eyes are watering againnn. ofc her and her mom wouldn’t let him graduate alone!

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 - okay well there’s a LOT here! first her mom always sending bradley a cake from a local bakery since she knows the value of a good family run business and second!!! THE SWEETEST DEVOTION CAKE BIT!!! the carrot cake and peanut butter!!! FULL CIRCLE THIS FAMILY LOVES CAKE AND IT’S THEIR LOVE LANGUAGE

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. - because the best just happens to be the most comfortable to her!

“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.” - you know i love the bradley and rooster dichotomy, like that’s my weakness!!! this made me cry last night and again doing this write up. he’s so emphatic as he says it too like it means a lot to him that he’s bradley to her right now?

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.” - this is so wonderful and makes me feel so full. it’s everything you want not only out of your first, but also out of a future partner

“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’m swooning! i’m so jealous! and the “now that it can” reminded me of the ‘he won’t love you like i can’ line

“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.” - the first sweet girl 🥺☺️

“I’m not kissing you for the first time around the corner from a bathroom,” he rasps. - THIS IS SO CUTE!! like he knows it’s gonna be a big deal when they have their first kiss!!!

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. - JUST LIKE IN LIKE I CAN GOODBYEEEEEEE it’s all so same-same but different!!!!

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. - it’s like a liminal space of that moment he’s not in the car with her and the door shuts! i love that, it’s so clever

He was you first, but what you wouldn’t learn until later, is that he would also be your last. - seriously, what if i killed myself?

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

[blackasmyhangryfurrybrokensoul]

I don't know. It scares me. I don't want to live a life where I'm fighting with the person I love. I don't want to life a life begging to be heard. I don't want to live a life where I don't feel loved. But I don't want to live without her.

I guess it's a mirror.

I'm sure there are things about this she doesn't want to live with, but she still wants me. She'll put up with it for me?

It sounds so ridiculous. Maybe that's where the line sits. She'll deal with anything, she's brave enough to. And me? I'm just scared. She has more faith in me than I have in her.

And I wish she could understand my fear. I wish she could see my face drop when she starts telling me how I fucked up this time, just so she'd understand where I'm coming from. I wish she would tell me she understands why I'd be bothered, understands my concerns, even if she's pissed or hurt or offended. Like I'm so much more open to understanding knowing the other person is actively trying to understand me too. We've had too many arguments where I just feel like the conclusion is she's right and I fucked up and there can't be anything deeper than that. I don't want that.

Idk I want to hear a thank you from time to time, when I've managed to stay calm about something I usually freak out over. I don't think t's cuz I deserve thanks for the bare minimum, but cuz I'm trying to improve. Hearing it only after arguments kinda... idk. I feel like shit after arguments.

Idk. I'm the psych nerd here, not her. I understand the power of reinforcements, she and most people probably don't think of it this way.

I feel like I messed up. Logically, maybe things should end, if we aren't understanding each other or seeing each other trying. But that's not what I want, or feel should happen. That's not what she claims to want or feels should happen either. It's frustrating. And idk. These arguments happen and I get scared that this will always happen, that no matter what I do I will be the asshole, I will be the one at fault, no matter how much calmer, how much more patient I become, all I will hear is what I'm doing wrong. Okay not ALL I hear. Just. When it means the most. I don't want to be hurting her and I don't want to disrespect myself and idk I feel so hopeless.

And I guess I wanted her to realize all that. I always hope that she'll see the fear behind my words and come to tell me it's okay and that my heart is safe here, that she sees me and hears me and she isn't ignoring the things I say, even if she doesn't necessarily feel able or in the mood to do them. (And I guess she is trying to say that but idk it doesn't reach me in a comforting way). That it means something to her for me to want to do things with her. That I mean something more to her than a retreat and a saviour to her soul. That I will mean something to her regardless of my personal impact on her. I want to feel loved. Not needed, not wanted, just loved.

I know I'll love her regardless of her involvement in my life. I love her for her character, not her love for me or how she makes me feel. I guess I want to be loved the same.

And I guess I want her to remember the things I mention and bring them up without me asking, from time to time. This is something both of us probably want more of tho. A show, a restaurant, a nice gesture, a certain kind of date. Maybe I have amnesia, I did start taking notes so I don't forget.

And I guess I want to hear her sing along to the songs I've sent her when I play them again in her car.

That she's listened to Placebo or Palaye Royale or Nothing But Thieves, not cuz she likes them, but to get in my head. Like I do with Taylor Swift and some other songs she's liked.

Idk I feel like I sound boyish asking for all of this. I think this is why they tell you to take care of friendships too. Ugh. I want her to be my everything tho.

Idk. It all felt like too much. I just wanted to run away, like I run away from everyone else now. I don't want to be pushing her away, but it feels so scary being close, expecting things, and then being told I'm wrong. Idk. It's like I'm wrong for wanting that love. My parents have made that clear, my friends have made that clear, now she is too, unintentionally I think but yeah. I feel so guilty for asking for anything, and I'm supposed to keep asking anyways but I'm also always wrong for being disappointed if the answer is no. I don't feel like asking anymore and I don't feel like seeking out affection anymore. I'm not sure I even should expect love from people who claim to love me anymore. I'm not sure I'm ALLOWED to want love from anyone anymore.

And the cute disorganized attachment in me is considering turning avoidant now :) I don't think I even wanna try to argue anymore. If she wants to be right, she can be. If she wants to be mad, she can be. If she wants to tell me what I'm doing wrong then, by all means, she should go ahead and say. I don't plan on retorting or explaining or anything anymore. I just want peace and to not lose her.

And if I did end up running away from it all and sticking with that decision- well it would be a mistake, but I would live with it till I couldn't anymore. The art would be incredible, I can tell you that. The void in my chest would let you see the wall behind me too. Idk. I'm so used to pain and being alone that it doesn't scare me anymore, it's my comfort zone in fact. Losing people is what I'm used to, it's scary seeing such commitment after learning that throwing people away is normal. And it's confusing when I try to give commitment back and it's suddenly not reciprocated and I getting taken back to all those friends and bawling my eyes out over ppl that don't care about me and I get so scared and upset. Like what if it just turns out the same. And THAT is the problematic part. And idk what to do. Do I not reciprocate? Do i give and expect nothing in return? Do I expect stuff? How do I learn to sit with a "no" and not feel my whole world crumble into chaos? How do I learn to sit with the discomfort of rejection? How do I sit with this fear? It's not her problem, I have to figure it out, but I feel so lost, and it's hurting us.

[bisluthq]

Uh. Haylor was real to Taylor. She was still frozen at the age she became famous, and years later she still says she likes those boyish looks. Harry, meanwhile, was just living his high school crush on Taylor(according to his cousin she was one.) I never became famous, but I like those boyish looks too. My boyfriend is 7 years younger than me. The timeline doesn’t fit for Matty Healy to be on 1989.

Bestie, I'm not saying "Matty is on 1989" - I'm saying the Haylor narrative that you've somehow come to believe falls apart if you examine it closely because of situations like Matty which happened during 1989 era.

She was clearly hung up on Jake for a long ass fucking time, so yes she then dated much younger guys because I believe she thought they couldn't hurt her (this makes more sense to me than her just being stuck at 16 although that is something she's talked about a lot but she's also spoken an even greater amount about how deeply Jake fucked her up). Nothing - tbh not even in her music - suggests that Haylor was a super deep thing for her. Harry, on the other hand, has a song where he's upset she told him she's writing something and then claimed it's not about him (so it's... maybe not about him??)

I'm also not sure what "boyish looks" means to you but it's not really necessarily age dependent. Tom Hiddleston has boyish looks. Joe Alwyn does too. And it's not just her bfs - Jesse Spencer has boyish looks. T.R. Knight has boyish looks. On Tay's men, Tom Odell - who was around and who also contradicts the Haylor popular narrative - also has boyish looks (not great ones but boyish). It's usually used as a description of a look - it does not refer to dating people who are much younger than you lmao tho you're welcome to do that as long as you're all consenting adults. Good for you and your much younger bf.

ALSO ALSO ALSO - GUYS IDK ANY OF THIS FOR SURE BECAUSE I AM NOT TAYLOR. IDK. If Haylor The Epic Love Story makes you happy like obviously believe the fuck out of it and look at edits and imagine songs about them and the concept. But you don't KNOW that. You just want it to be true, and y'all usually have close to 0 evidence for it but sometimes things just make you happy. So if this makes you happy, okie dokes!!!!!

[nyasialiveshere]

I miss super m because all there personalities clashed in the best way, there was tension, drama, suspense, they all triggered eachother constantly it was beautiful. 

I literally don’t even care that everyone hated it. It reminded me of one d because at least in america and the west they were allowed to clash and not think of how fans would take what they said. They could be a bit more rough around the edges and bicker. Honestly I didn’t wasn’t even aware of them for like the first year I was kinda late but I was able to watch there first year content without the feeling of second hand embarrassment cause it was all over. But I was surprised it wasn’t that bad and I wish they would of done more promo in america but the timing was off. 

From what I can tell at least Kai got to finally dance at full capacity and actually had people to compete against. I want to make a large post because I think a lotta people actually didn’t pay attention to how much interesting stuff occured in super m. Unlike with exo and nct the members didn’t have to worry about longterm fans. All super m fans were basically solo fans and they weren’t necessarily there for shipping or who they think the members were but moreso because they wanted something new. Their favorite artists able to stretch their wings and be less of a team and more individuals who happened to be in a group.

It reminded me more of how old jpop groups were, more boyish and brash and rough around the edges. A bigger focus on platonic male bonding rather than hardcore serious storyline shipping. It was so beautiful. 

But I have so many thoughts on super m. I feel like if I keep talking about them enough the universe will finally give me that netflix docu about them I’ve been waiting for. I think they have potential, at least for a few albums and then a good world tour. Honestly I’d like if some of the members retired with super m rather than their own groups which tbh couldn’t handle any big comebacks or worldtours. 

I already know the new sm boygroup is just to introduce probably one or two artists who will eventually be put into the new version of super m to replace lucas and probably baekyun because I doubt they’ll let him be leader after he sued. 

I may check out the new nct docu but idk like disney plus wtf, sounds right up sm’s alley but I didn’t think 3.0 sm was going kid friendly but it is more marketable and they’ve been courting disney for years. 

I’d write more but it’s late

[seiwas]

i love this ari!! 🥺

characterisation is always something i look forward to when reading your works ari 🥺 i feel like you get it every time!!! i love little blurb explorations like this bc it feels like putting them under a lil microscope and that you did!!!

i agree that he's a bit detached 🥺 i see him that way too—a bit out of reach, y'know? neither here nor there. and i also agree that there's a softness to him when he's alone 🥺 you also have his mannerisms down to a t!!

and he was insistent, persuasive. awfully whiny. assuring you that he’d be quick, that you wouldn’t miss the next one. <- this is so like him omfg

i so love how you set up their dynamic; reader thinks gojo isn't very fond of them bc he's always a little less than how he normally is but... that's literally it!! it's because he's with reader that he's able to kind of let loose that way 🥺 that being said, i also like how reader isn't necessarily close to gojo but wants to be (i don't read a lot of works with this dynamic!!)—it's refreshing to me!!

deep within your chest, like a stunted seaweed, sprouts a tiny pang of disappointment. <- i love that you continued the theme of the sea!!! UGH so satisfying!!

”you’ll warm me up, no?” the words fall from your lips before you can think to reel them in... but instead come out sounding a little too much like an honest request. <- i screAMED at that you'll warm me line sdbj but also at the bit of reeling in words (bc again, it's so thematic!! so satifsying!!) and then there's the fact that it slips past reader's lips honestly instead of jokingly 😭😭

and it’s back. that grin. toothy, boyish. his cheeks are rosy, from the chill of the air, or so you assume. then he’s taking a couple strides forward, broaching the distance between you. <- rosy cheeks from the air or so you assume!!! (ofc u assume!! bc it isnt from the air!! no it's from you!!) UGHHHH i love this ari... and the bits describing how he's warm and cozy too 🥺 i always hc that gojo runs a bit cold, lanky and lean and everything but i still adore the idea that he is everything we don't expect him to be 🥺

(gojo glances at your lips. he wonders if they’d taste as salty as the air.) <- the repetition!! the callback!! i love that so much!! and to end it like this too 🥺 with the hope that they're both thinking abt each other the same way 🥺 ugh mY HEART!!!

their dialogue is so cute!! and there's also so much in the unspoken and you know how much i love that 🥺 and how reader views gojo is sos o so precious my heart is crying sdbgas:

gojo honest to god giggles, at that, and you fear your knees might give out beneath your weight. fuck, has he always had dimples? why are you only noticing them now? <- this line HAD me lMAO it's soOOO vulnerable and raw and real. crying just thinking abt how cute he is rn

gojo’s eyes widen. ever so slightly, barely enough to even notice, until they bloom — with a kind of bubbly excitement. unconcealed giddiness. there’s something awfully precious about it, like a child buying cotton candy at their first fair. it makes you want to tuck him into your pocket. keep him safe. <- i feel so much of your affection for him here and 🥺 aaaah this makes me so emotional ari udek 🥺 just want him to stay like this forever!!

as always, your descriptions are always so vivid in your writing!! you have such beautiful prose 🥺 i have so many favourite parts!!!

satoru gojo is an anomaly, a blurry cluster of stars. or maybe more like a planet, big and blue, spinning around its own orbit, out of reach for every single star in the sky. <- i am such a sucker for space related descriptions too 😭

something that almost seems fragile, under the light of the moon, when the dark sky casts a shadow to obscure the contours of his face and no one’s around to notice if his smile isn't as big as it should be. <- idk if u intended it for this, but the visual this gave me was kind of like the waning (or waxing? i always mix the two) of the moon!!! how the shadows move around his face that way 🥺

summer’s ending, burning into little cinders, sputtering out before your very eyes + the rusting of leaves, contaminated by a muddy hue, turned orange and brown and red beneath your heavy feet; littering the murky, empty streets of the rainy towns you cross. <- your descriptions for the seasons were so vivid!!!! i love that so much!!

everything smells of saltwater. a little like rotten fish. every breath you exhale turns into a flurry of vapour, mingling with the breezy seasalt of the open air; scattering away into the thin layer of mist all around you, until you can’t tell which is which. <- i also adore this so much. i feel like i haven't really read a lot of sea/beach descriptions that are like this, and i love it bc it's so real 😭 this rlly is what the sea smells like, and it isn't all that pleasant 😭

 in tandem, the two of you, stuck within that shade of blue.  <- such a pretty line!! but i also love it because, despite all he is, he still has it in him to be amazed, y'know? a little mesmerised at the sea 🥺

then the end bit:

you like him, unfortunately. inevitably. you think you may even like him a lot, a little more than you should. a little more than he could reciprocate. <- this line hurts as much as it heals, because, 'a little more than he could reciprocate' & it all ties back in to the first point, that he's a bit detached, out of reach—unavailable really. and it's sweet that reader likes him, but it's also so so sad that that there's a limit to it, like an upper ceiling that matches the capacity gojo can handle.

this was such a lovely read ari 🥺 so refreshing and of course, so well-written!! i am going through your works little by little and enjoying every bit of it 🥺

gojo always seems to be off in a world of his own.

a little detached, you think. awkwardly long limbs constantly on the move, eyes stuck in a direction no one else can follow, a trajectory you don’t think even he knows. one blink and he's gone, just like that. too far ahead, too far above, even on the occasions he slows down and lets you catch up.

flimsy, maybe. like he’ll get carried away by the breeze when spring rolls around. like he’d turn into seafoam if you reached out and touched him.

satoru gojo is an anomaly, a blurry cluster of stars. or maybe more like a planet, big and blue, spinning around its own orbit, out of reach for every single star in the sky. 

high and mighty, cocky and cool. silly and bright. but there's a softness to him when he's alone, you’ve come to learn. something that almost seems fragile, under the light of the moon, when the dark sky casts a shadow to obscure the contours of his face, and no one’s around to notice if his smile isn't as big as it should be.

no one except for you, anyhow.

(you wonder if your presence is really that inconsequential to him.)

the beach is entirely empty, save for you and gojo. and summer’s ending, before your very eyes, sputtering out. burning into little cinders.

tokyo is just beginning to dip its toes into autumn, the frost and chill, the hiss of the biting wind. the rusting of the leaves, contaminated by a muddy hue, turned orange and brown and red beneath your heavy feet; littering the murky, empty streets of the rainy towns you cross. smelling of rotten apples and cinnamon, old books and burning wood.

it’s dark out. painted a thick gray, the sky is blanketed by heavy clouds, the entire world hidden behind that coating of wool. not a single sliver of starlight slips through, but there's a comfort to it, that feeling of being cocooned — safe and warm. a feeling cruelly stripped away by the nipping of the wind at your bare skin, but you digress.

everything smells of saltwater. a little like rotten fish. every breath you exhale turns into a flurry of vapour, mingling with the breezy seasalt of the open air. scattering away into the thin layer of mist all around you, until you can’t tell which is which. 

a sense of foreboding sinks into your veins.

(you look out at the jagged rocks piercing the surface of the sea, and dully wonder how they’d feel piercing your skin.)

something shivers, to your right. a flicker of movement, a barely audible chatter of teeth. and then, a white puff of vapour.

”man, it’s cold.”

gojo looks displeased. 

only vaguely, a little crease between his eyebrows as he stuffs his hands into the pockets of his puffy baseball jacket. moving his feet a little, to warm up, snowy tufts of white hair tousled by the ocean breeze. his shoes are muddied by the wet sand, but he doesn't seem to mind.  

a soft scoff leaves your lips, mostly harmless. maybe just a little smug. ”told you,” you click your tongue. 

gojo whines. his sunglasses are starting to fog up, you notice. ”it’s still summer!” he pouts. ”i thought the sea would be nice and breezy!”

an unimpressed look smooths over your face. gracing him with a raise of your brow, you don’t fully manage to bite back the soft smile that follows. don’t even really attempt to.

it’s been a long day. evidently not long enough for gojo, seeing as he dragged you down here — even though he knew it meant missing the train you were supposed to board after successfully finishing your mission. he just had to get a closer look at the sea. just for a moment or two. 

and he was insistent, persuasive. awfully whiny. assuring you that he’d be quick, that you wouldn’t miss the next one. 

(what made you agree was simply the thought of spending some more time with him. not like you could ever tell him that, though.)

so there you stand. two juveniles, shivering and shifting from foot to foot, on the brink of nightfall, the edge of summertime. watching the sea stretch out into infinity, across the gap between this world and the next. a murky blue. easy on the eyes.

the noise of the sea fills your ears; waves crashing into the sand, the whistling of the wind, seagulls crying out in the distance. and faraway, the chatter of a rattling train. a cacophony of sounds, buzzing and crackling, melting together. 

scattered across the beach are countless tiny white seashells, and the occasional green glimmer of a glass shard. mermaids’ tears, shed for lost sailors — or so you’ve heard. you wonder if the mermaids ever shed tears for lost sorcerers. probably not.

a shiver runs through your body, down to your cold hands, the tips of your fingers. reddish and itching for warmth. you tuck them into your pockets with a breathless exhale, still shaking a little. 

you and gojo aren’t very close. you’d like to call him a friend, but it's hard — when he's so enamored with suguru, so animated around shoko. with you, he always seems kind of —

stiff? 

or maybe more like bored.

he doesn't laugh as loudly, doesn’t act as cocky. doesn't flaunt his knowledge on sorcery, and isn't as clingy as he is with the other two.

(you've never liked people touching you. it's not hard for other people to discern, with how you flinch away when they get close.

still, you can't help but feel a little jealous when you see him tugging suguru and shoko around.)

sprouting deep within your chest, a tiny pang of disappointment. it’d be nice if you could grow closer, you think. just a little would be fine. 

”i like the sea.”

you turn your head.

gojo looks a little lost in thought. gaze trained on that expanding ocean before you, those splotches of blue and gray, the waves that bruise the edge of the sand. forlorn, maybe.

a hum buzzes in your dry throat. ”do you?”

”mm.” little white breaths slip from his lips. you wonder if they’d taste as salty as the air. ”’ts nice.”

a silence stretches out before you. delicate, like a sheet of glass. gojo picks at a piece of lint on his sleeve, and you shift from foot to foot. then he closes his eyes — a flutter of his dewy eyelashes.

”kinda makes you feel like everything’s about to end, huh?”

you look at him, but don’t see anything. a single glimpse of his closed eyes is all you gain from the glance you send his way, but it’s not enough. not enough blue to fall into, no expression to savour. he looks the same as always.

but you’ve never heard his voice sound like this before.

”… end?”

and with that, they flicker open. there it is, you think. that vibrant blue. only to be obscured once more, when he turns to you fully, a smile playing at his glossy lips. ”don’t think so?”

a second passes. you look forward.

what you see is as follows: waves upon waves upon waves. the same blue and gray, as far as the eye can see. a sea big enough to drown each and every one of your worries. 

something comes over you. a sensation of loneliness, something close to longing. a feeling of being rather lost. searching for something. your eyes trail over those jagged rocks, again. the mermaids’ tears, that all-consuming sea. right in front of you.

you think of the lost sailors.

(one jump and it’s all over.)

”… i guess i get it,” you breathe. salty on your tongue. a soft murmur, mingling with the mist. 

silence.

out of the corner of your eye, you see gojo shift. one moment he’s looking at you, the next he’s staring at the sea. in tandem, the two of you, stuck within that shade of blue. and you think he looks a little mesmerized, like he’s seeing something not even he can fully comprehend.

(maybe he just hasn’t had many chances to go to the beach before. something to do with being a clan kid, maybe?)

but then he clears his throat, hands moving to brush some sand off his puffy jacket and jeans. turning on his heel, hair ruffled by the breeze. he tries to sound chipper, but there’s something else there. you don’t know what it is, but…

”anyway,” he chirps. ”let’s go. we can still make it to the next train if we hurry.”

you look at him. his retreating figure, a head of white hair, surrounded by mist. a little like an apparition. then you turn towards the sea.

”… nah, that’s fine.”

a pause.

gojo stills, just about to take the first step forward. but you stay rooted in place; unmoving, staring at the blue before you, a deep longing reflected in your eyes. 

”let’s stay a little longer,” you hum, unsure of where the words came from. but you know you aren’t ready for the moment to end, just yet. that you aren’t quite ready for summer to pass.

…

all he does is stare, for a second or two. attempting to find some humour in your voice, you assume, any signs that you might just be joking. but he doesn’t find it. uncharacterstically silent, gojo stays frozen in place. 

then he puffs out a breath — amused. 

”you wanna freeze to death?” he grins, and you can hear it in his voice. you turn to face him, almost smiling. a little cheeky.

”you’ll warm me up, no?”

the words fall from your lips before you can think to reel them in. meant to sound a little snarky, you think, something akin to a chuckle — but instead come out sounding a little too much like an honest request. 

the tips of your ears feel a little warm, suddenly.

a sense of surprise smooths over the contours of gojo’s face, and his grin falters. you can’t see his eyes, can’t tell if they widen or not, but his lips part, and you note that they look soft. 

and it’s back. that grin. toothy, boyish. his cheeks are rosy from the chill of the air, or so you assume. then he’s taking a couple strides forward, broaching the distance between you.

he throws an arm over your shoulder. a heavy weight against you, grounding, causing you to stumble. friendly, tugging you close. into his orbit.

(no infinity, you note. you can feel his body heat seeping through the fabric.)

it's nice. he's tall, and he's warm. cozy, protecting you from the bitter cold, like your own personal furnace. no wonder suguru never catches any colds, with someone like this draped over him all the time.

gojo speaks. there’s a sweetness to his voice, a mellow kind of contentment; bubbling up like seafoam, spilling from his glossy lips. you can feel his warm breath on your skin.

”well, duh.”

when your gaze falls on him, he's already looking at you. leaning closer, sunglasses slipping a little further down the bridge of his nose — enough to expose the blue of his eyes, the tiny splotches of white scattered across his aquamarine iris. like a cracked marble. or a summer sea.

he’s speaking again, and you almost don't hear it. distracted by those cracked marbles, the strawberry red of his cheeks, the warmth shared between you. the pitter patter of your heartbeat, like waves crashing against the sand. mesmerized. not daring to look away.

almost like you’d cease to exist, were he to close his eyes. like your existence hinges entirely on the blue of those irises.

(and maybe it does.)

he nods towards the sea, and grins. a mischievous glint in his eyes. ”wanna take a dip?” he asks, and you can’t tell if he’s joking or not. it makes you laugh, either way.

”do you want to freeze to death?” you raise a brow, exhaling amusedly. subtly angling your body closer to his, hoping he won’t notice.

gojo honest to god giggles, at that, and you fear your knees might give out beneath your weight. fuck, has he always had dimples? why are you only noticing them now? 

”hehe. i just think it'd be fun!” he chirps, still draped over you like an overgrown cat, and you almost find yourself saying yes. just to keep the summer from ending, keep him from being swept away by the breeze.

but summer is ending. slipping away, second by second, like two juveniles drowned by an ocean wave. never to be found.

and in comes autumn, the smell of rotting apples, the crunch of sand beneath your feet. an arm over your shoulder, an intake of breath; the taste of nice, crispy air on your tongue. 

a chuckle flows from your lips. all you see before you is blue, a murky shade, a vibrant hue. you think you could drown in it. you’re not sure you’d mind.

”maybe next time,” you whisper.

gojo’s eyes widen. ever so slightly, barely enough to even notice. then they bloom, with a kind of bubbly excitement, unconcealed giddiness. there’s something awfully precious about it, like a child buying cotton candy at their first fair. it makes you want to tuck him into your pocket. keep him safe.

you like him, unfortunately. inevitably. you think you may even like him a lot, a little more than you should. a little more than he could reciprocate. 

satoru gojo. high and mighty, cocky and cool. silly and bright. a seaborne boy with his very own orbit, born to carry the weight of the world, spinning so close that you can almost delude yourself into thinking he feels the same. 

almost.

(gojo glances at your lips. he wonders if they’d taste as salty as the air.)