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anonymous-dentist · 22 hours ago

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Bleeding Heart Part Six

Part One | Previous Part

Almost two months after his first altercation with Hombre Misterioso, Cellbit hears a knock at his door as he's editing the last of Roier's photos.

Yawning, Cellbit leans his chair back and runs a hand through his hair. He cracks his neck and blearily checks the time in the bottom corner of his computer screen: three in the afternoon. He started editing almost nine hours ago. He's been out of coffee for two and a half hours at least.

So he gets up, groans as his spine protests at the sudden weight, winces as his bones all pop in quick succession. Picks up his coffee mug, ignores the knocking at the door, goes to start a fresh pot of coffee.

His mug was painted by Richarlyson at one of those do-your-own-pottery places. It's a bright, ugly yellow with a red heart and the words, 'World's Okayest Dad' painted on it in black.

The knocking continues.

Cellbit checks his hair in his reflection in the microwave. Pulls at one of the bags under his eyes. Sticks his tongue out. Grimaces at how stupid and old and tired he looks. (Bagi is 26, he thinks, so he should be, too. But, wow, he looks older. Much older.)

More knocking.

With one last forlorn look at his bubbling, brewing, beautiful coffee, Cellbit finally goes to answer the door. He's in his pajamas (sweats and one of Felps' old shirts), and he probably looks like a walking corpse, but, like. Whatever, anyone stupid enough to actually come to his apartment knows that he works from home. They should know what to expect when bothering him.

But:

"Hi!" Bluebird cheerfully says as soon as Cellbit's door is open.

Cellbit looks at her. He blinks, rubs his eyes with one hand, and moves to close the door in her face.

But he's stopped by Bluebird sticking her foot in the door and weaseling past him and into the apartment. She apologizes as she does so, but Cellbit knows that she doesn't mean it; she's a hero.

"Nice place," she comments, walking to the couch and plopping herself down like she's right at home.

"Um," awkwardly says Cellbit. "Get out of my house?"

"Who, me?"

Bluebird actually, really, legitimately looks around the room dramatically, head and hair whipping back and forth as she tries to find whoever it is that Cellbit is actually talking to.

Cellbit balls his hands into fists by his sides. Fucking. Heroes.

Bluebird's costume is basic: black undersuit, light blue vest and darker blue pants, white ski goggles. Her hair is halfway tied back in a ponytail. Her weapon of choice, her now-famous scythe, is on her back and digging into Cellbit's couch cushions. The Federation's logo is right on her chest, and all her sponsors' logos run down her sleeves and the legs of her pants.

Cellbit hates her. She isn't even making an attempt to hide her identity- the goggles aren't doing shit. Heroes don't have to hide themselves. Their faces are on cereal boxes. Bluebird is no exception, especially now that her popularity is skyrocketing.

Bluebird, of course, is assigned to find and defeat Hombre Misterioso. The public thinks that her job is to capture them so they can be tried and imprisoned in the Federation's special underwater prison facility. But Cellbit knows that she's going to kill Hombre Misterioso, and it'll be framed as an accident, and she'll get 'suspended' for a month or so as punishment but, really, it'll actually be a vacation reward for a job well done.

"What do you want," Cellbit flatly asks.

Sighing, he nudges the door shut behind him and leans against it, arms crossed.

Bluebird stares at him for a moment.

(Bare arms crossed, scars and all.)

And then she lets out a breath and crosses her legs, fold her hands neatly on top of her knees and tries to smile. Tries, because Cellbit can tell that her heart isn't in it.

"Hey," she hesitantly says, "so I'm supposed to be asking you about Hombre Misterioso and stuff, but, real quick, I just wanna say that I'm really sorry if Cucurucho's been bothering you."

"You're wasting your time," Cellbit tells her. "Get out of here before I call the cops for trespassing."

Bagi would love to arrest a Fed, even if the charge wouldn't stick longer than an hour after arrest.

Bluebird winces. "O-kaaaay, sensing some hostility here. But, listen, we all just want this guy caught, right?"

"Sure. It's a real shame what's happening to all your heroes."

"It is! And you almost ended up like them, but! But you didn't."

"Yeah." Cellbit nods. "Because I'm not one of you. You're talking to the wrong guy."

He smells coffee.

Ignoring Bluebird for the moment, he walks through the main room and past the couch and the hero on it so he can squeeze into the kitchen. His apartment isn't small, but the kitchen table takes up a solid ninety-percent of the kitchen's floorspace. It even dips into the main room, making it real hard to get around at night when the lights are off.

He grabs his mug and the coffee pot and pours himself a fresh cup. He can feel the warmth radiating out from them both, and he shivers involuntarily. (He usually wears a hoodie when he's working, but he spilled coffee on it earlier in the afternoon and hasn't gotten around to getting a fresh one out of the closet.)

Bluebird, of course, follows him. She hovers in the doorway near the end of the table; her scythe is tall enough to almost scrape the top of the doorway.

Cellbit raises his mug to his lips.

"You might not realize this, but you were probably targeted," Bluebird says, actually almost sounding serious. "Your parents might be dead, but you and your sister aren't."

Cellbit jerks so hard in response that he spills his fresh, hot, boiling coffee all down his front. But he can barely feel it through the sudden rush of hatred in his body.

"My parents had nothing to do with the Federation," he snaps. He pulls his wet shirt out in front of him and wrinkles his nose. "Excuse me."

He puts his cup down on the counter and pushes past a surprised Bluebird to go to his room. He actually manages to close this door behind him as he pulls his shirt off and starts searching for a new one.

As he's digging through his shirt drawer, he hears a tap-tap-tap at the window behind his desk.

Dread filling his veins, Cellbit turns around and sees a familiar gas mask poking out over the top of his computer monitor.

Hombre Misterioso waves.

Cellbit, suddenly, feels rather faint.

"No, sorry!" Bluebird calls through the closed door. "That was my bad! I meant your, uh, the parents you and your sister share? Not your actual parents."

Cellbit points aggressively at the window and mouths, 'Get the hell out of here!'

Hombre Misterioso just waves some more. They're absolutely smiling under their mask.

It's the afternoon. They haven't been seen once in the day, only at night. Sometimes in the evening. Rarely at dawn. Not when the sun is out; it's theorized that their powers relate to the darkness like the Demon's.

"I have nothing to do with those people," Cellbit huffs. He turns back around and grabs a random shirt out of the drawer and starts pulling it on. "Cucurucho probably made you read my file, right? So you should know that."

"It... briefly mentions the Webbers, but that's not what's important!" Bluebid protests. "The Federation is really worried about your safety here, dude! My partner, Lavagirl, is currently talking with your sister about this exact same thing."

"You'll have better luck with her. She's actually on your payroll."

"Yeah, so her time with the Junior Heroes actually makes her a bigger target than you, probably, but, listen-"

Somehow, Cellbit's window starts to squeak open behind him.

He whips around and glares at Hombre Misterioso, who freezes in place with their fingers on the glass. Are those... suction cups on their fingertips? What, are they a thief now? A Spider-Man wannabe?

"No!" Cellbit shouts.

Hombre Misterioso flips him off with a palpable roll of the eyes.

Bluebird repeats, "'No'? Aren't you listening to me right now? Hombre Misterioso is trying to kill you!"

Cellbit laughs dryly. "Yeah, no."

He angrily drives his finger downwards: 'Get down.'

Hombre Misterioso shakes their head.

Cellbit rolls his eyes and points at his bedroom door: 'Someone's here!'

Hombre Misterioso shrugs and starts moving his window again.

Cellbit bites back a groan and rushes to slam his window shut, having to reach around his computer to do it. It slams, and then it's immediately being raised again by the goddamn menace on the fire escape outside.

"Are you okay in there?" Bluebird worriedly asks. "You didn't get burned or anything, right?"

"Mmm, yeah, no, I'm burned as shit," Cellbit lies.

He hisses, eyes narrowed, "Fuck off! There is literally a superhero in my living room right now!"

Hombre Misterioso responds by pulling their cape aside and revealing the hilt of their sword.

"No!"

"Do I need to call an ambulance or something?" Bluebird asks.

"No, I'm fine!" Cellbit replies. "I'm putting on some burn cream now!"

"...You keep that stuff in your bedroom?"

"My computer is old as shit and I have to run Photoshop on it. I burn myself daily. Just... get out of here!"

Cellbit, only vaguely panicked, suddenly grabs an exacto knife from his supplies drawer and drags it across his palm.

Hombre Misterioso lets out an alarmed-sounding electronic gasp, but Cellbit just grits his teeth through the pain and forces a string of his blood out of his hand and around the window's latch and then around the leg of the desk. It ties itself off with a neat knot; Cellbit forces his bleeding to stop and starts willing his platelets to kick into action.

"No, wait, I'm a hero!" Bluebird argues. "I'm trained in first aid! Let me help!"

"I'm literally shirtless!" Cellbit, wearing a shirt, shouts. "Get the fuck out of my apartment!"

"Not until I know you're okay! Do you know how much trouble I'll get in if they find out I let a civilian get hurt?"

Oh, Cellbit knows.

The window rattles and strains as the string of blood keeps it shut. (Blood is made of iron, after all.)

With his palm already scabbing, Cellbit storms towards the door and slams it open, blocking his desk and window from view with his body.

Bluebird looks up at him, determined.

Cellbit wants to stab her.

Instead, he says, "Look, I'm not the guy you want to talk to about this. Your partner is already talking to Bagi, but you both have forgotten about the guy who chased Hombre Misterioso away from me that time."

(The window goes silent.)

For whatever reason, Bluebird sucks in a sharp breath before attempting a smile.

"Oh, Roier?" she asks. "We don't need to talk to him."

Cellbit cocks his head. "Really? Because I was unconscious. I can't tell you anything about what Hombre Misterioso was doing. But Roier saw it all."

"And he talked to the police."

"But Hombre Misterioso has to be pissed at him for ruining their kill, right?" Cellbit asks. "Serial killers always end up escalating outside of their pattern, everybody who's studied them knows this. They lose control. The pattern now is Federation workers, but maybe it'll expand to people protecting Federation workers."

Bluebird pales.

Cellbit rolls his eyes. "Come on, have you really not thought of that? Aren't you guys supposed to be, like, crime experts?"

"Hey! I'm new!"

"Yeah, and you're letting a civilian stay in danger because you're too focused on protecting a failed lab experiment," Cellbit scoffs. "Trust me, if this guy knows as much about me as you think they do, then they know that I'm not the guy they want to kill. They're looking for people who like the Federation, not people who hate it."

Bluebird narrows her eyes. "That's a dangerous thing to say to a superhero, you know."

Cellbit shrugs. "Sue me. You read my file, you know that I'm more likely to be a suspect here than a victim."

She nods. "...Yeah, but you don't have powers. And they do."

He smiles bitterly. "Right."

He looks at Bluebird.

Bluebird looks at him.

"Well?" he asks. "It's a couple of hours until the sun sets, and Roier's going to be leaving work soon. In that area of town? It's only a matter of time until Hombre Misterioso catches him."

There's a quiet laugh from the window.

Cellbit quickly covers it up with a cough and a faux-pained wheeze. He grips at his chest, wincing.

Bluebird's eyes widen. "Oh, shit! Right! Your burn!"

He waves her off. "Don't worry about it, I texted my friend. He's a doctor, he's on his way."

"Really?"

"Yeah, Pac from Chume Labs? He probably helped develop your training program."

"Oh, shit, you're friends with him?" she gasps.

"What can I say? Us Brazilians gotta stick together."

"Huh. Fair. Well..."

She looks uncertain, but she nods, acquiescing. "Fine. If he's coming. But, listen, call the hotline if you see Hombre Misterioso around, okay? You might not have the... best history with us, but the Federation is good people."

Cellbit smiles. "Get out of my apartment."

Once she's gone, Cellbit lets out a scream into his hands and turns to go and yell at Hombre Misterioso some. What the fuck!

He storms to the window and drops the string. It falls apart, blood splashing onto the desk and the carpet.

He wrenches the window open and finds himself nose-to-nose with Hombre Misterioso.

Well.

Nose to gas mask.

"What do you want?" Cellbit growls.

"Who was that?" Hombre Misterioso replies.

"Bluebird. You know, the hero literally assigned to kill you?"

Hombre Misterioso's shoulders tense minutely. "Oh."

Cellbit rolls his eyes. "Yeah. Now. What do you want? The sun is out. And I hate you."

"Ouch."

"Don't act surprised. You're literally stalking me."

"I'm not. But I am here for a good reason."

"You are literally at my apartment." Cellbit blinks. He flushes red in both anger and embarrassment. "You saw me shirtless!"

"And it was very nice, but I'm here to tell you that I am going to kill Iron Boy tonight at midnight."

Iron Boy... former Junior Hero, graduated a few years ago into the mainline hero program, no known powers but an affinity for technology. Otherwise known as Tubbo, one of Pac's coworkers at the lab, and one of Cellbit's biggest haters for no good reason.

Tubbo isn't that old. He's a mentor hero for the Junior Heroes. He doesn't do much actual hero-ing outside of escorting the juniors on crime fighting field trips and testing out weapons for the lab.

Cellbit shakes his head. "Not him."

"Yes, him."

"Do someone else. Without him, the lab is understaffed until Mike gets back from his honeymoon, and we don't know when that's going to be. Kill him when Mike's back."

"Ugh, fine," Hombre Misterioso groans. They slump against the windowsill and rest their chin on their arms. "Who should I kill, then?"

"Why are you asking me?" Cellbit asks. "I'm not a villain, in case you haven't noticed. I'm retired."

"Whatever you say, enigmito." They drum their fingers against the inside of Cellbit's wall. "Maybe I should find Sharkboy."

"Fuck Sharkboy," Cellbit immediately declares. "If you can find him, kill his ass. But he's also retired. Nobody from the Order has been able to track him down."

"Maybe I should find one of those French heroes," Hombre Misterioso muses. "What do you think?"

"I think that I should give you Crow Man's phone number so you can ask him about this and not me."

Suddenly, Hombre Misterioso sits up and snaps their fingers.

"I know!" they excitedly say. "Man-Bear!"

Man-Bear... must be one of the newer heroes that Cellbit doesn't know about. Richarlyson might have heard of him, but. Yeah, no, Cellbit isn't going to ask him. He doesn't want to risk a repeat of the aquarium.

"Fine, Man-Bear," Cellbit sighs. He gives Hombre Misterioso a tired look. "Is that all? Can you go now? And never come back? And leave me alone?"

"I mean, you can come with me toni-" Hombre Misterioso starts.

They freeze.

Cellbit watches their still body until they come back to themselves in the middle of a different sentence and in a different pose: gesturing grandly with their hands and audibly smiling.

"-a team!"

"Yeah, no," Cellbit immediately says. "I can get you the Demon, if you want? But he's kind of on a murder break right now..."

(Fatherhood really has mellowed Bad out, hasn't it?)

Hombre Misterioso audibly grimaces. "I fucking hate that guy. Look, I'll call you with the details tonight when it's about to happen. You can show up if you want. If you don't, it's no big deal, you can just come to the next one."

"Please don't do that."

"Don't worry, I still have your number."

"I'm literally going to go change it as soon as you're gone."

"You won't." They tilt their head tauntingly. "You want to keep an eye on me. If you don't, how will you keep me away from your son?"

The hair on the back of Cellbit's neck stands on end.

"You haven't changed your number since I first called you," they say. "You won't do it now."

They laugh, slow and deliberate and absolutely just grating on Cellbit's ears.

"I'll see you tonight," they say.

Cellbit slams the window shut and backs away from it.

Hombre Misterioso wiggles their fingers in a farewell, and then they hop over the edge of the fire escape and drop out of view.

...Maybe. Maybe, Cellbit should call Bagi.

A/N: Let me know what you think in the tags or in my inbox! I want to hear your theories, thoughts, opinions, everything!

#a.d.'s fics i suppose #a.d.'s fics i suppose.#enigma misterioso au

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kordbot · 1 year ago

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mutuals gather round me I need your guidance bc I'm indecisive. should I play the cyclops route or the lanks route in my current the hopeful playthrough

#I KNOWW that like all my mutuals except for gabriel dont know who these guys are #just pick whoever your heart tells you to #i cant make a poll bc i wanna play like. literally in a moment and im abt to get to the sportsdome where i pick my route #aid me my faithful companions. pwease?

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little-diable · 4 months ago

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Lightning - Tyler Owens (smut)

I mean, we all knew this would happen. I haven’t seen the movie yet, but I am DESPERATE for him. And as somebody who actually has something to do with studying tornadoes, I had to write this. I am obsessed with this fic, but I doubt this will get much attention, so please actually reblog it if you enjoyed reading it! Enjoy my loves. xxx

Summary: Tyler and the reader are chasing tornadoes together, but when they have to step back and find shelter, things quickly change between them.

Warnings: 18+, smut, piv, handjob, kinda enemies to lovers, teasing and all that fun stuff

Pairing: Tyler Owens x fem!reader (3k words)

Wind was blowing in her face, letting her strands dance in the air while her eyes flickered between her laptop screen and the dark sky. She was surrounded by her team, trying to ignore their shouts as they decided which direction to head in. (Y/n) was torn between too many options, not liking the way this afternoon was playing out.

It was do or die, miss or hit one of the biggest tornadoes they had come across in a while. And yet the second cell that was currently forming gave off a somewhat more promising chance of catching enough data this time around.

“Which way will it be, lightning?” Her breath hitched in her chest as he mumbled the words, front pressed against her back. The hairs on her arms began to rise, fully focused on his closeness, allowing her to pick up on the scent of his familiar cologne, on the way his breath fanned over the back of her neck as if he was about to kiss that very spot.

“Am I dreaming? Is Tyler Owens asking for my opinion?” She slowly turned towards the handsome man. Her eyes instantly found his piercing ones, getting lost in their intense gaze while he shot her one of his signature smirks. Fuck, if he weren’t such an asshole most of the time, she would easily give in to the pull she felt, allowing him to tug her towards his bed without having to fear about the aftermath. But if there was one thing (y/n) was sure of, it was that Tyler Owens was all about playing games, toying with a woman until he eventually grew bored. He was a personification of a thunderstorm, fast moving and never ready to settle.

“Don’t let it get to your head, pretty.” She clicked her tongue with a displeased expression tugging on her features. There was no time left to study him, to curse whoever had created him for making him look this handsome. They had to stay focused, at least until she got the data she needed for her project.

“Alright, we’re heading east.” (Y/n) closed her laptop before reaching for her bag–the bag that was snatched from her grasp before she could protest. Tyler had slung it over his shoulder while tilting his head towards his truck, silently asking her to ride with him.

On any other occasion she would have cursed him, would have told him to fuck off. But today, while being heavily understaffed, she needed any help she could get. And knowing that Tyler drove like the devil himself, she knew she had the best chance of arriving just in time with him by her side.

His smirk grew wider the second she gave in, begrudgingly following Tyler while her eyes found the confused ones of her teammates. She only rolled her eyes at them, raising her shoulders and dropping them again as if she was wordlessly telling them that she was just as confused as they were, not seeing through Tyler’s game just yet.

Silence filled the truck, only a few commands left (y/n) whenever they needed to make a turn, chasing down the roads to catch up with the growing cell. All while the others followed behind them, too slow to catch up with Tyler’s truck. Her heart was pounding in her chest, riled up by the anticipation of chasing another storm – no matter how many times she had done this before, (y/n) would never get used to the thrill, the moments leading up to seeing yet another beautiful though terrifying tornado.

“You alright, pretty?” She’d never get used to the way Tyler called her, dripping with that drawl she loved more than she’d ever admit. (Y/n) didn’t look at him, fully focused on her laptop to monitor the path their tornado took. No word left her pressed together lips, trying to drown out the feeling of his concerned eyes flickering towards her every few seconds.

“(Y/n)?” The use of her name ripped (y/n) out of her trance, letting her wide pupils find his. She only nodded at Tyler, knowing she couldn’t waste any time on the crush she could never speak of, preferring to take her secret to the grave rather than feeding his ego–only to end up with a broken heart in the process.

“Guys, can you hear me?” She held the radio close, speaking to the others while refocusing on the map. All they could hear was rustling, unable to pick up on the reply that was spoken on the other end. Curses clawed through (y/n), she tried to reach their teams again, while swallowing the sinking feeling growing in the pit of her stomach. No longer could she see them in the rearview mirror, telling her that they hadn’t made it down the narrow path Tyler had taken.

The road ahead was muddy, forcing the truck to slither along while Tyler tried to avoid holes and ditches. With one hand clutching the door, (y/n) tried to hold still, not daring to bump into Tyler whose angry cusses filled the truck. Both had their eyes focused ahead, knowing that this had been the wrong choice, the wrong tornado to chase. They were heading straight towards their death if they kept going that way, knowing that without their team by their side, they wouldn’t be able to collect enough data anyway.

“I hate being the one to say it, but we gotta find shelter, lightning.” Tyler’s annoyed groans left her nodding, giving him the green light to take a sharp left to turn towards the town close by. With the slimmest chance to find proper shelter, Tyler kept speeding along, seemingly having a spot in mind. (Y/n) was angry, at herself, at the road conditions, knowing that this situation should have played out much differently. And all she could do was trust the man she had always tried to hate.

“Come, follow me.” The truck was forced to a sudden halt. (Y/n) followed Tyler outside, holding onto her things while he reached for her free hand to pull her along. He guided her towards what appeared to be a barn, a building she paid no attention to as she studied the tornado, getting lost in its beauty for a second. “They built an underground shelter here a few years back, if we’re lucky nobody else had the time to find it.”

Tyler pushed her into the unlocked barn, letting the doors slide close again before he led her down some stairs. She didn’t dare speak, torn between too many emotions. All (y/n) could do was let go of a sigh while being ushered into the empty, dark shelter. It took her a while to adjust to the darkness, letting her hands move along the metallic wall until she found what appeared to be a light switch. She gave it a try, though without any luck, letting herself drop to the ground while Tyler stayed glued to his spot.

If both hadn’t been too deep in thought, they would have realised that this was the first time they were sheltering together, completely alone without any nosy eyes watching them or listening to their talks.

“We should have gone west, I’m sorry.” Her whispers filled the small shelter, luring Tyler closer who plopped down next to her. He fumbled with his phone to turn on the fleshlight, letting it rest on the ground to alight their surroundings. A few boxes were placed against the wall, filled with water and some snacks they hopefully wouldn’t have to use, praying that they’d get out of here fast enough to chase their luck once again.

“There’s always time for another try, pretty.” Tyler reached for her hand to squeeze it before he could stop himself, forcing her eyes to focus on the spot where she now felt a buzzing sensation. She let her head roll towards Tyler, studying the white hat he took off with his free hand, placing it down on the ground, only to comb through his hair.

“Don’t think I’ve ever seen you without that thing on.” (Y/n)’s whispers left him chuckling, a sound that momentarily managed to drown out the roar of the tornado. The howling was an almost comforting sound to them, after years of chasing them, well aware of every little detail.

“Well, you’re one of the few who gets the honour, appreciate it.” She rolled her eyes at him before ripping her gaze off of him. Heat flushed through her at his teasing, a heat that only grew more biting as she realised that they were still holding hands. Her tongue moved along her dry lips, trying to find the right words to break their silence, silently hoping that she could cherish every single second of their time together. As much as she had once sworn to hate him while burying her crush deep inside of herself, she had lost all strength to fight against it, at least for now.

“Why have we never done this before?” Tyler seemed to feel the same longing, drawing her focus back towards him with his question. His eyes had an even more piercing touch to them now, having an invisible tight grasp on her soul she didn’t want to escape from.

“Because you’re an asshole most of the time and I can’t stand being around you for long.” (Y/n)’s sharp reply left him laughing, a loud sound that had an addicting effect on her, leaving her chuckling while shaking her head at the man.

“You wound me, lightning. Here I was hoping you’d finally let me take you out on a date, once this day’s over.” No longer did she laugh, the sound was stuck in her throat all too suddenly.

Did he truly mean it? Was he planning on asking her out? Or was Tyler playing yet another game with her?

“Don’t fuck with me, Owens.” His hand darted out to grasp her chin, forcing her to keep her focus on him before she could even try to turn away from him. For just a second, she watched his gaze flicker between her eyes and her slightly parted lips. Once again her heart was back to racing, no longer focused on the howling wind, the sounds of things crashing outside, but fully and solemnly focused on Tyler.

“Are you scared of this thing between us?” Once again, his question managed to rob her of the air filling her lungs, not expecting him to be this direct with her. A part of (y/n) begged her to cuss him out, to make fun of the question, to escape the avalanche that was about to roll upon them, but the bigger - more desperate - part of her, managed to gain the upper hand, leading her straight towards danger.

“Well, even though you enjoy riding your fears, I prefer to face ‘em. I’m not scared, not of this, whatever this is. But I’m fucking terrified of you toying with me and dropping me the second I’m no longer interesting enough.” He let go of her, only to pull her into his lap, making her straddle his stretched out legs. They held eye contact, wordlessly daring one another to move first, to give in to the pull that was as strong as an F5 they’d happily chase on any other day.

“I’d be fucking stupid to mess it up with you.” She felt his breath on her lips, ghosting over her soft skin like he was giving her one last chance to pull away. A chance she wouldn’t take, letting it pass while finding his lips for a soft kiss that escalated within seconds. With his hand pressed to the back of her head and his other placed on her waist, Tyler held her to him while deepening the kiss.

Their tongues fought for victory, knowing that neither of them would back down from a fight against the other, urged on by their need to gain the upper hand. Soft groans and moans left them while their bodies searched one another’s closeness, knowing that this was something they wouldn’t tell others about, preferring to keep this as their secret.

Her hands roamed his clothed chest, feeling his muscles beneath her wandering fingers while finding her way to his belt. She toyed with the buckle for a moment while her lips were still glued to his, knowing they’d have to part any moment now to inhale some much needed breaths of air.

“You sure you want to do this in here, lightning?” His chuckles left her grinning, while holding onto the question she had wanted to ask for a while now.

“Why lightning?” A kiss was shared between them, much softer than the one before. Her hand was still toying with his belt, slowly undoing the buckle to wordlessly tell him she wanted this much as he did, even though they knew that it was stupid and selfish of them to hide out here while their teams were undoubtedly worrying about them.

“Well, the first time I saw you, you struck me like lightning, brightening my darkest day.” The explanation was cheesy, and yet it still drew heat up her neck. She could only swallow, smile at him and refocus on her hands. Tyler let her move, freeing his hardening cock while his impatient hands tugged on the buttons of her blouse, letting it pop open to expose her bra-clad chest.

“Fuck, you’re a dream.” Her eyes flickered up to his while she spat into her palm, using her saliva to lube him up. Tyler couldn’t stop his moans from clawing through him, fully focused on the way he perfectly fit into her hand, pressed against the soft skin he wanted to feel against every inch of his body. His head rolled back against the wall, eyes closed and lips parted – offering a sight that made her walls clench around nothing, proud for being the one to make him feel like that.

Her hand added more speed to its movements, squeezing him with just enough pressure to draw another raspy moan from Tyler. He allowed himself to relish in her touch for another moment before he gently though urgently grasped her wrist to stop her from moving.

“Will you ride me, lightning?” His accent grew thicker with every syllable, leaving her shuddering while only a soft chuckle managed to leave her. She rose to her feet to shuffle out of her jeans, keeping her eyes focused on Tyler who marvelled at her as if she was the strongest tornado he had ever been fortunate enough to see, fully mesmerised by everything about her. She kept her panties on while finding her way back to his lap, knowing that they needed to hit the road soon, not giving them a chance to do this properly.

“Wait, here.” He reached for his back pocket to pull a condom out of his wallet, letting her rip it open to roll it down his aching cock. Both their hearts were beating in sync, knowing that they were finally about to do something they had been desperate for ever since running into one another for the first time. No matter how much anger and hatred had once grown between them, it was now turning them from opponents to lovers–or whatever it was both were trying to adjust to.

Tyler held onto her as she sank down on him, letting her forehead fall against his shoulder for a second. No words were spoken while they had to adjust, overwhelmed by the new sensation and the whirlwind of emotions buzzing through them like a storm hitting them both. With her hands holding onto him, clinging to the fabric of the shirt he wore, she began to move, fucking herself on his twitching cock with such a passion, Tyler feared he may never want to get out of this shelter again.

“Tyler,” his name left her, a breathy whisper he almost missed, too far gone to focus on anything but their closeness. He palmed her ass, letting his fingertips dig into her skin to leave marks that would remind her of this very moment for days to come. His hips met hers, jerking upwards to make his cock disappear inside of her even deeper, drawing desperate moans from them which dripped with a need for more.

“Attagirl, look at you, fucking yourself on my cock like you were born for this.” She moaned at his words, knowing that her thighs would start aching soon enough, begging for a new position to give herself the needed push to fall over the edge. “What? You’re already getting tired? I should have fucked you in my truck, make you scream my name while the world’s ending around us.”

He pushed her off of him without a warning, leaving her dazed and confused for a second while watching him rise to his feet. With a hand stretched out for (y/n) to take, he pulled her up towards him–only to pick her up and press her against the wall. His cock was pushed back into her, stretching her walls while he fucked her with a fast pace that made both of them see stars.

(Y/n) clawed at his neck, needing to hold onto him while he fucked her closer and closer to the edge. A cocky grin widened on his lips as he felt her walls tightening their grip on his cock. She was close, would let go soon with his name burning on the tip of her tongue, a perfect reminder that she was his from today on, glued to the man who she had once sworn to hate.

“Scream my name, lightning, show them what a real thunderstorm sounds like.” If he weren’t buried deep inside of her, she would have rolled her eyes at him. But (y/n) was too far gone to care about his cheesy teasing, solemnly focused on her arising high and the name rolling off her tongue like a prayer.

And then she came, pushed into an orgasm so strong, (y/n) feared she’d never experience something like this again. It buzzed through every part of her body, stealing her breath as if she was drowning, forcing her heart to skip beats as if she was chased by someone or rather something. Tyler kept fucking her against the wall, urged on by her moans, the sounds he’d never forget again.

Pants kept leaving him while chasing his own high, letting his skin meet hers with every ferocious thrust. And with one last “Fuck” Tyler came, relieving himself into the condom as his smirk returned to his lips. Both were heavily breathing, clinging to the other while coming down from their highs.

“I don’t know if I can walk back to the truck.” Carefully, he placed (y/n) back down on her feet, shaking his head at her with a soft smile thrown her way. Tyler pressed another kiss to her slightly swollen lips before both redressed, knowing that they had to get out of here and back to their team as fast as possible.

“You know I’ll gladly carry you, lightning. I always will, if you let me.”

#Tyler Owens smut #Tyler Owens x reader #tyler owens Imagine #twisters #glen powell #glen Powell imagine #Glen Powell smut

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chaconnenha · 7 months ago

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⌇ WANNA BE A WINNER 𓄹

❪ ꕤ ❫───엔하이픈 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗉𝗅𝖺𝗒 𝗁𝖺𝗋𝖽 𝗍𝗈 𝗀𝖾𝗍

OR. he is used to you chasing after him . . . so what happens when the tables are turned ? && crush!en- x f!reader % hc format ( jealousy, pet names, mention of food, kissing )

𝐇𝐄𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐔𝐍𝐆 doesn't think twice when he sees you on the bleachers at his basketball game, because he's gotten so used to seeing you there, cheering him on whenever he scores and waving enthusiastically when he looks your way... only to find himself doing a double take when he notices you talking to the members of the opposition's team. stands there for a while with a tilted head as he wonders why it is you're giggling and twirling your hair, batting your eyelashes at whatever it was the guy was saying. and he really shouldn't have been so annoyed, seeing as you're free to talk to whoever you like... but for some reason, he finds himself purposely missing a shot and causing the ball to roll over to where you and your friends are sitting, just so he has an excuse to walk over there after your pick up the ball, before kissing you on the cheek as he takes ball back. "thanks, baby," he says, before walking away again.... but of course, not without one last cocky smirk to the other guy when he sees your flustered expression, and a promise to ask you out properly after he wins this game.

more under the cut !

𝐉𝐀𝐘, who has gotten used to seeing snacks on his desk along with little notes whenever he wakes up from his nap, feels like he's been thrown into an alternate universe when he looks up one day to find that his desk his completely empty. looks around, and asks his deskmate if you came by today, only for them to shake their head and say that they haven't seen you all day. doesn't think too much about it at first, thinking that you may be busy... only to notice that it continues a few days straight. decides to walk to your class one day, completely forgoing his usual nap, just to see if you're okay, because as much as he wouldn't admit it, anyone could tell he was worried about you. so imagine his surprise when he walks up behind you while you're talking to your friends, just to learn you've been doing it on purpose to make him miss you. crosses his arms and leans down to your ear with a smirk, causing your heart to fly out of your chest when you realise he was there all along. "okay, you win." because he really did miss you... maybe even more than you had planned.

𝐉𝐀𝐊𝐄 probably takes a while to figure out that you're avoiding him, but only because he genuinely believes you when you say you're busy when he asks why you can't make it to his soccer game. he knows that you have a life outside of school, so he can't feel upset... but everyone (his teammates, his friends, his coach, his neighbour, his dog...) notices that he is walking around the field like a depressed puppy whose owner doesn't want to play with him, and it's all because you're not in your usual seat, cheering him on while wearing his number like you usually do. and it makes him realise just how much you were becoming his lucky charm, just as you had boldly proclaimed you would be. and so that's how he finds himself waiting for you after you're finished your classes for the day, before wrapping his arms around you in a hug, not caring about the wolf whistles and the cheers coming from all the students and teachers who stood watching around you, or the way you stuttered his name in protest because of how he was acting in public... all he could think about was how he was a fool for not making you his to begin with.

𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐍 can't remember when you haven't been next to him. from the first day of school, you were the one beside him, helping him in class whenever he had to catch up on work that he missed because of his figure skating career, saving him a seat on the bus because you knew he would always end up being five minutes late out of class. so when he comes back from a week off from school, he is visibly taken aback when you walk in and take a seat at the front of the classroom, next to some other guy who he didn't even know existed until now. doesn't buy it for a second when his new seatmate explains that you had to switch because you had trouble seeing, and burns holes into the back of your head for the entire lesson, intensifying his glare when you and your new seatmate are a tad too close for comfort, heads bumping against each other as you whisper about the answers to the questions, like you used to do with sunghoon. can't seem to catch you alone for the rest of the day, so he waits for the end of the day, when you guys catch the bus together, and makes sure that he gets there before you do... so that when you try and sit next to someone else, he pulls you down in the seat he saved next to him, before leaning his head on your shoulder, his hand wrapped around your smaller one. "stay here, please..." because you’re the only one he wants beside him, and he wants to be the only one next to you.

𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐎𝐎 knows immediately that something isn't right when you don't ask for his help with your club projects. being in the photography club, you love to remind him how he is your favourite model, and you make it painfully obvious whenever you beg him to let you take his pictures. imagine his surprise and offense when you no longer seek him out first, but some other guy in a different class, who you keep positing pictures of on the school newsletter, where you used to post his pictures instead. he instantly makes a plan to win you back and become your favourite once again, even going as far as to rock up to school the next day with blonde hair that makes everyone stop and stare... except you, the person who is usually the first to jump on the train of people to praise him. he realises at that moment that this goes beyond just his pride; he genuinely just wants to be able to make you smile like before. so imagine your surprise when you open the newsletter for the next week, to find a candid photo of you looking at your camera, hair blowing in the wind and a smile on your face, with the caption "prettiest girl in our grade" followed by, "taken by kim sunoo".

𝐉𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐖𝐎𝐍 does not beat around the bush. so the first time you walk by him in the hallway without so much as uttering a "hi," he immediately knows he needs to confront you about it, because not a single day has passed in the time that you've known each other where you haven't jumped on him (figuratively, of course) whenever the chance arises so you can chat his ear off about something or other. and he doesn't like the feeling he gets seeing you give him the cold shoulder for reasons he has no idea about. so the next time you pass him by without saying anything, he's grabbing your wrist and tugging you down the hallway, ignoring the squeals from your friends as he pulls you into the janitor's closet. "why are you avoiding me?" he demands, frowning. but then the two of you are rendered blushing incoherent messes when you try to escape the room... only to trip on your own two feet and fall into his arms, your lips bumping against each other in the process. (but even though it's an accident, jungwon thinks that he really likes this feeling alot.)

𝐍𝐈-𝐊𝐈 is an absolute menace, and you are probably one of the only people in the world other than his mother that can put up with him. it really surprises people to see you follow him around, cooking him bentos and fixing his tie for him because he always fails at doing it himself, only to find out that you're not his girlfriend. ni-ki himself probably doesn't even realise how much you've been taking care of him until you stop showing your face around his classroom at lunch, and no longer nag him about his uniform or his hair being messy. instead, he's left to watch as you turn around whenever you see him, purposely changing paths so you don't bump into each other. no one is surprised when he jumps over a fence just so he can catch up to you after you try to run away after making eye contact with him for the hundredth time. you end up blurting your feelings for him before he can ask, and while you brace yourself for rejection, he's already kissing you like he hasn't seen you for months... and wondering why he never did it sooner.

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buckyalpine · 2 months ago

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Bucky and Alpine are my favorite duo !! He’d be such a cute cat dad . And I just imagine Alpine not being fond of company, just like her grumpy dad . And if he’s ever brought over any girl he’d always hiss and try to wack them . But when you’re in his home for the first time , Bucky is worried it’s gonna happen again . But Alpine instantly curls in your legs and purrs for your to pet her. When you sit on the couch , she follows you and nudges your jaw or hand to give her scratches and ends up falling asleep on your lap . Bucky is bewildered this is happening and his heart warms that his baby likes you . Overtime you and Alpine are inseparable and Bucky’s favorite thing is to come back home to you and Alpine curled up on the couch , giving the both of you head kisses (🐚)

I LOVE THISS. Alpine takes after her daddy 100%. Ever since he adopted her and tucked into into his leather jacket, the two have been joined at the hip. They are inseparable. It's always just been the two of them. Just her and her favorite hooman, cuddling, napping, judging anything with a pulse.

It's perfect.

Until he starts to date. Alpine hates it. The way these girls look at her daddy, swooning and giggling, always trying to take away her favourite spot; her daddy's lap. That place is reserved for her and her only. No one else gets to nuzzle into his neck or curl up on his chest. Taking up her spot on his bed is also a huge no-no. She hated how they'd squeal or screech trying to pet her or worse, pick her up for a cuddle. Disgusting. There had already been a few close calls but Alpine made sure it never went a step further. A swing of her little paw to the head is enough to send most away instantly.

Who were these strangers and why did they keep disturbing her. She hated people.

Except her daddy.

"Um-"

"Bucky if you're not sure about this, we can wait-

"No!" Bucky shakes his head, awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck while you waited for him to open the door to his apartment. How was he supposed to tell you that the reason he was worried about bringing you home was because his life was ruled by his cat. That the little fluffy ball of fur controlled who went in and out of the house; anyone that wasn't him, wasn't welcome. The first dates he brought over didn't matter all too much. Bucky didn't see much of a future with them anyway so he didn't try to get his furbaby to warm up to them with a second try.

You were different.

He'd liked girls before but this time he was certain it was love. The last thing he wanted was for his 3 lb, 1ft fluffy demon to chase you away too.

"I don't want to wait, it's not that I'm not ready" Bucky nervously chewed his lip, "I guess I'm just nervous" He played it off, not wanting to worry you as he fished his keys out of his pocket.

"We can take all the time you need, Sergeant" You gave his hand a gentle squeeze with a reassuring smile, "M'not going anywhere"

Love. He definitely loved you. How he hoped his cat would be in a good mood.

Alpine narrowed her eyes at the door hearing more than one voice, ready to pounce on whoever walked through. The furs on her neck stood up as Bucky walked in, accompanied by his date though this was different. Her daddy didn't seem as sure of himself as he usually did. He was stumbling over his words. She was sure she could feel his body heat radiating off him from feet away. He had shy smile plastered on his face the entire time as he brought her into the apartment. In Alpines opinion, he looked like an idiot, nearly tripping over one of her mice and blushing like a school boy.

This girl wasn't like the others.

Her daddy really liked this one.

A lot.

As soon as you sat down, Alpine decided to introduce herself, hopping into your lap and nuding her head into your hand. You giggled, giving her a gentle scratch before setting your hand down to give her some space but she didn't seem interested in you stopping. She purred at the soft coo's you made, nuzzling her head further for more pets.

"Merp" Alpine let out a content chitter while you were none the wiser.

"She's so friendly" You whispered, not wanting to disturb Bucky's little best friend while he blinked in confusion, stunned seeing his tiny ball of havoc curled into your lap, making biscuits with her paws, a content purr rumbling from her chest.

"Aren't you a sweet angel" You whispered, continuing to pet her silky fur as she slept soundly, not realizing Bucky's jaw on the floor. "What's her name?"

"This little shit"

Your face twisted in confusion while Bucky still didn't answer your question, slowly and silently moving himself until he was at eye-level with his master.

"Hey" He whisper hissed, cocking an eyebrow when she reluctantly opened one eye, "Alp, you little shit"

"Merp" Alpine gave Bucky's cheek a light swat of her paw before cuddling up further into your lap leaving you in stitches.

"I see she owns you" You giggled while Bucky shook his head, butterflies already erupting in his tummy. He already knew you were special but if Alpine liked you, that was something else. Seeing his baby fall in love with you the way he did sealed it all. It became something Bucky never got tired of seeing; his precious little angel doting and cuddling up with the girl of his dreams. Whenever you were around, Alpine was instantly in your lap or in your arms, the two of you inseparable.

"Doll? Alpline?" Bucky called as he dropped his bag at the front door, toeing his boots off and stretching before making his way to the living room.

"My girls" he smiled, finding you both curled up with your favourite show on, Alpine sleeping on top of the soft blanket you were wrapped in, "How are you babygirl" Bucky leaned down to kiss the top of your head before kneeling down so he could give his fur baby one as well, "And you, princess"

"We missed you" You gave Bucky grabby hands, sighing happily as he wrapped you up in his arms, holding you extra tight before setting you back down.

"Not as much as me. I'll shower and we'll get some dinner" Bucky tucked you back in your blanket before scooping up Alpine in his arms for an extra cuddle, "Daddy missed you princess, shhh" Bucky shushed her discontent meowing as she was taken away from you. Her tail swished as he plopped her onto the bed and quickly showered, rustling from his bag before pulling out a little bag and a tiny box.

"Ready to surprise mommy?" Bucky whispered, fastening a red collar onto his cat and tying a ring that would sit under her chin with a little handwritten note. He picked up Alpine and set her on her way back to you before nervously wiping his hands against his jeans, taking a deep breath.

"What do you have there baby" Bucky could hear your voice from the living room, followed by a gasp. He took one final breath before making his way over.

He couldn't wait to marry you.

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mydear-corinthian · 3 months ago

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phone call

synopsis - tommy receives a phone call in the middle of having sex with his wife.

pairing - tommy shelby x reader / thomas shelby x reader

warnings - SMUT +18, rough sex, use of foul language, breeding kink, praising kink, creampie, just full of porn, unprotected sex, p in v

notes - short (w.c <850), gif and picture isn't mine, divider is mine

main masterlist | peaky blinders masterlist | cillian murphy masterlist

His hands explored every inch of your sensitive body with a satisfying touch that sent shivers down your spine. There was an irresistible affection between the two of you that was endless. Your breath caught as his dominant, wild hip thrusts into yours, causing hectic, unrestrained moans with every thrust.

"Oh my God- yes, Thomas!"

As he pushed you farther into the mattress, his weight and heat surrounded you as you lay beneath him, your bodies linked. He drew closer as your legs coiled around his hips, stretching you in the most delicious way as he slid deeper with each thrust. Tommy started to breathe hard, his chest heaving as sweat collected on his forehead and trickled down to mix with the heat from your smooth skin. He met your gaze with lust and something deeper than that.

"Yes, baby.. fuck- you take me so well.. so fucking well," he praised on your ear as he rested his head on your neck, his deep thrusts not stopping.

The telephone on top of the nightstand beside your shared bed rang loudly. Your husband stopped, looking at the phone near him.

Who the fuck is calling at this hour?

Tommy picked the phone up, not leaving the bed.

"Thomas Shelby." he answered.

You expected him that he would draw away and stop, especially when the phone rang. He stopped and reached for it, and you felt upset. Tommy, though, chose to stay still and answered the phone with one hand while tightening his grip on your waist with the other and suddenly thrusting his hips forward once more.

His thrusts continued to shock you, causing your body to tense in surprise, but before you could respond, pleasure took over. His cock sank farther, each malicious movement finding that exact spot. You ended up speechless by both of his soothing phone voice and the way he caused your body to react to him.

"What ha-happened?" Tommy asked over the phone, his breathing heavily telling each question with a struggled and unsteady voice. He attempted to keep his composure, but the force of his motions made it almost impossible as his chest rose and fell quickly. As he tried to concentrate on the talk, you could feel his heart thumping against your body and his breath rapid and hot against your skin.

Tommy looked at you, a smirk painted on his face. With his free hand, his fingers toyed with your hardened nipples, brushing them and squeezing it.

"Tomm-" you covered your mouth immediately as you nearly moaned his name out loud, afraid of whoever is on the phone hearing that Tommy is fucking his wife at the moment.

"Yeah, I'll handle that tomorrow morning," his voice was deep making you feel wetter and wetter. A familiar feeling coiled down through your stomach.

"Tommy, I'm so close," you quietly moaned. Your fingers gripped the silk bedsheets tightly as you felt your high coming.

The room was filled with the constant sound of your bodies meeting, the heat between you growing with each slap of flesh on skin. Your thoughts were taken over by the intense pleasure that was shooting through your entire body as your eyelids fluttered closed, buried in a fog of ecstasy. You vaguely heard Tommy drop the phone somewhere in the distance, but it didn't really matter. The way he grabbed you closer and pounded your hips with such merciless pace that every thrust sent shivers of pleasure through your entire body was all that mattered. Heavy intakes of breath from him, merging with your groans as he pushed you both to the edge.

"Good girl, yes, yes.. Finish on my cock."

Tommy experienced the same closeness as your cock clenched all over it. With a deep moan, he raised your right leg to his shoulders. He treated you like the most precious gemstones that thieves like him could take. Tommy groaned and praised as his head rolled back.

"D'you want me to cum inside you? Breed you? Make you mine?"

"Yes, yes! Fill me up, sir! Please!"

His back was scratched by your nails, and in a few hours, scars will definitely begin to appear. You groaned, breasts bouncing and the bed creaking with every pound.

And then, after a few more thrusts, he smashed deep inside of you until he poured all of his seed into your abused and tight walls. It was warm and filled. Tommy groaned loudly and pleased, then rested his head on the side of your neck to inhale yourself. He waited until every last drop of his cum filled you before pulling out.

As soon as he pulled out, a mixture of his and your load leaked outside your throbbing pussy. Tommy got up, grabbing a box of tissue and cleaned the both of you up.

"Who was that?" you asked.

"Just the betting shop asking for me to check on something."

"You think they.. heard me?"

"I'm sure they did and I'm glad so that they know how much I fucking please my lovely wife." he chuckled before planting another kiss to your lips.

You gladly kissed him back but the kiss deepened and the both of you know what that means.

Another round.

#peaky blinders #peaky blinders x reader #peaky blinder fanfic #cillian murphy #cillian murphy smut #cillian murphy x reader #tommy shelby #thomas shelby #thomas shelby x reader #x reader #tommy shelby smut #thomas shelby smut #tommy shelby x reader #peaky blinders smut #peaky blinder imagine #jonathan crane smut #neil lewis smut #robert fischer smut

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ridingthatd · 11 months ago

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₊˚₊‧⁺˖ ITADORI AND HIS OLDER BROTHER

₊˚₊‧⁺˖ itadorixfem!reader, sukunaxfem!reader, nsfw, heavy smut, fucking him and his brother, choso is fucked up, stalking

itadori was such a puppy coded type of boyfriend, he was such a sweetheart, he was the type of boyfriend who would pick you up playfully and spin you around just to earn a giggle from you in return, he's the type to insist to take a shower with you, he had a rule that both of you should always bath together- whenever you plan to shower, yuji is already taking his shirt off, revealing his chest covered tattoos, getting ready to join you. he's the type to cuddle you all day whenever you had period cramps-

but he was also the type to fuck you through it, insisting that filling you with his warm cum would make you feel better, insisting that him sucking on your sore boobs would relief the pain, insisting that him licking your blood-soak pussy would make you both feel good- he wasn't lying, a thing that always set you off that yuji acted differently in sex, whenever he would fuck you, it wasn't a sweet love making type, it was the type that would almost make you pass out from being to stuffed with his monster of a cock, that would have you drooling, crossed eyed, out of your mind, that would leave bruises-marks on your body the next morning.

itadori was the type to love you with all his heart, to do anything for the people he loves, the people he care about, and the only people he cared about was you-

and his older brother choso, he looked nothing like your boyfriend- while your boyfriend held such a nice, approachable era around him, his brother was quite the opposite.

his whole era screamed not approachable, a cold glare was always painted on his face, he had a long dark hair that he would usually throw in a bun, he was tall a bit taller than yuji was, and of course he had tattoos, their gang tattoos- yea your boyfriend was in a gang, to be honest you already knew quite awhile before yuji decided to tell you, it was because your boyfriend always had difficulties in lying he made it so obvious that you weren't surprised once he told you.

both of them had the same exact tattoos, but choso had one tattoo itadori didn't have- it was the tattoo on his face, a straight line painted on his nose.

choso have always wanted you- more like him and his little brother have always wanted you. they been stalking you for a year, ever since they saw you in the club where they had a gang meeting, you wouldn't leave their mind, so they stalked you, they both were fucked up in head, loving the feeling of watching you, your every step, everything you do without you knowing, loving the feeling of watching you moan, and whine in the shower as you use your little fingers to get off.

choso insisted that his little brother should get with you first, claim you first, before anyone else gets to do that before them- he knows he wouldn't let that happen, he would shred whoever dare to lay as much as a finger on you expect him and itadori.

choso sit on the guests bed, he was in the apartment of his little brother, staying in for a little, he always do his causal visits. loving the way you try so hard to hide your attraction to him, staring at him with your fuck me eyes, so tempting.

what would it feel like? to have your warm, wet pussy clutch around him, have the tip of his dick catch at the tight entrance and not let him go, demanding him right back in until he’s sheathed balls deep, his throbbing shaft engulfed and secure and feeling so good. and the day has finally come-

tears and hick ups falls from your lips, as your boyfriends brother, tease you, not letting you cum for the 3rd time. drool leaves your lips connecting your tongue to itadoris tongue as he pulls back, after he spat inside of your mouth, that was half opened the whole time not being able to stop your whines.

"aw look at her, such a pretty little baby, you wanna cum on my brothers tongue? you wanna squirt on his face?" yuji darkly speak out, as he harhsly twist your nipples between his thumb and index finger, rolling it.

you glance down between your thighs to see choso already hungrily staring at you, groaning and slurping on your pussy as if he's feasting on his prey, his huge thick fingers roughly going in-out of your cunt making loud wet noises.

"cum" this is all choso needed to say before you arch your back, your thighs shake, and clear liquid comes out squirting, gushing his whole face with it, choso opens his mouth and let it land directly in his mouth as if he's drinking from a fountain of a goddess. yuji couldn't help but groan at the sight, mouth watering wanting to taste your juice too.

as you limblessly lay down, not having the energy to move a muscle after all the teasing, your boyfriend pick you up and make you lay down on his chest, as he coo at you, showering your face with kisses- you were about to relax into his embrace but you feel his huge cock, rub on your pussy and make it's way inside of you- you whimper.

"shhh it's okay, it's okay leme keep my cock warm and good inside of your pretty little pussy yea?" itadori whispers next your ear, sucking on the tender spot on your neck, you feel chosos huge hands grab your ass and roughly lift you and slam you down his brothers cock, you gasp- he didn't leave any room for you to breath as he keep repeating the process, shoving you up-down, as he lean in, his chest on your back.

"you like that? is my little brothers cock filling you good?" he whispers next to your right ear, trailing his nose down your neck, as yuji suck on your bouncing nipples- clearly to lost in your pussy to keep on what his brother is doing.

you stiffen once you feel a cold metal on your asshole, not quite sure what it is, you don't realize what it is till you feel the warm, twitching cock of choso- it was a piercing, choso had a piercing on his cock. he slowly spread your cheeks, and circle your hole with his cock, before he gently start making his way in, tearing through your ass.

"fuck she got even more tighter fuck fuck fuck" you glance down at your boyfriend he was rocking his hips up your pussy, fucked out his mind, this sight of him was such a turn on that you lean down to suck on his lips, while making clear access for choso to shove his entire cock in.

you choke not being able to breath, " to- to much to much to much" you cry out crawling your nails on yuji chest trying to escape his brothers cock that teared into your ass. choso laughs darkly- it was the first time you heared him laughing before he grabs your hips and shoved you towards him.

"you can't run little pet, now you're finally mine i won't ever let you go" he roughly grabs your hair and slams into you, ignoring your cry out, itadori grabs your chin, leading your lips to his, as he keeps humping up your pussy.

you were so filled that you think both of their cocks might come out your nose, your mind was fuggy to much pleasure on your body, all you could think about was their massive cocks, thoughts only circling around dick, dick, dick, dick.

"we going to cum inside of both of yours holes baby, fill you in so so so so good" itadori whine, as he spills his warm white liquid inside of you- you can feel his thighs shaking, eyes crossed so fucked out. just like you were.

"now it's my turn" choso groans out before he fills your tight ass, not stopping till every single drop was inside of you. you soon follow him squirting on yujis cock helpsly being sandwiched by both of them.

"round 2?" itadori grins.

₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ end ₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ

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starkwlkr · 3 months ago

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pretty in pink | logan howlett

an: this comes straight from my delusional mind

dad!logan (you can choose if you want this to be an old man logan fic!!)

All week your daughter, Ada, had been reminding everyone about her sixth birthday that was coming up. She made sure you and Logan marked it on every calendar in the house. During dinner, all she talked about was her pink princess themed party.

“And the cake has to be pink!” She said for the hundredth time. She sat in her chair at the table completely forgetting she was supposed to be eating her spaghetti.

“We know, bub. You told us everyday before and after school.” Logan said.

“I told the girls in my class to come too. They said they wouldn’t come because we’re freaks.” Her excitement about the party died down.

Laura, now a teenager, gave her sister an encouraging smile. “They’re the freaks. You’re the coolest girl in school. That means we get to have all the cake.” That earned a laugh from Ada. Logan chuckled, it warmed his heart to see his daughter’s bond.

“Your party is going to be the best, my love,” You stood up and grabbed your and Logan’s plate that were now empty. “Finish up and then get ready for bed, both of you.” You walked to the kitchen sink and began to wash the dishes.

Laura immediately challenged Ada to see who could finish their spaghetti first. After a scolding from their parents, Laura let Ada win. Soon, the sisters raced upstairs to get ready for bed.

As you and Logan finished cleaning, you couldn’t help but think about your little girl. Your sweet innocent little girl didn’t deserve to be called a freak. Your thoughts were interrupted when a car pulled up to your driveway. You weren’t expecting anyone, especially not at this hour.

“Stay here.” Logan said to you after he wiped his hands on a dish rag. He walked out the door ready to confront whoever it was. The car’s headlights were blinding him, but once he heard the familiar voice call his name, he put away his claws.

Inside you were still wondering who it was. Before you could join Logan outside, Ada had run down the stairs already in her princess pajamas.

“Mommy, who’s outside?” She asked you. Her question was answered when Logan walked in with Rogue by his side. Ada screamed in excitement when she saw her other sister. “You’re here! You’re here!” The little girl ran to Rogue and gave her a welcoming hug.

“I wouldn’t want to miss your princess party.” Rogue picked up the girl.

“Are you going to sleep in my room? Dad got some new books for me!”

“Oh you bet we’re going to stay up all night reading those books! I’ll be up in a few, let me talk to mom and dad for a sec,” Rogue set her down. The adults watched as Ada happily skipped up the stairs to her room. “Alright, what’s wrong?” She looked at you and Logan.

“What? Nothing wrong, why are you asking?” Logan asked surprised by her question.

Rogue knew she wasn’t going to get a straight answer from Logan so she looked at you. You sighed and told your daughter the truth. You were nervous about Ada’s party. A few of her classmates did tell her they were attending, but you were convinced they were only coming to make fun of her and ruin her big day.

“Those little shits ain’t going ruin my girl’s party.” Logan added.

“Honey, those little shits are first graders.” You corrected him.

“Little shits or not, Logan’s right. This is Ada’s party and she’s going to have the best damn princess party in the world.” Rogue declared. Before she left, she gave you and Logan a kiss on the cheek then walked up the stairs to Ada’s room.

Logan noticed that you still had a concerned look on your face. “Hey, Ada is going to be okay.”

“I just don’t want my little girl to get hurt.” You said.

“I won’t let anything or anyone hurt any of my girls.” Logan reminded you.

With that, you and Logan finished cleaning and went up to Laura’s room to say goodnight. As you reached Ada’s room, you saw her and Rogue already asleep. You quietly took the book out of Rogue’s hand and put it back on the bookshelf then adjusted the blanket over your daughters. You gave them both a goodnight kiss and left the room.

In the morning, Ada was the first to wake up. She ran to yours and Logan’s room as fast as she could and jumped on to the bed screaming that it was her birthday. Logan groaned since she had landed on his stomach.

“Wake up! It’s my birthday!” She giggled as Logan sat up and brought her into his arms.

“How old are you today? Eighty? Ninety seven?” He watched as Ada’s smile dropped.

“No, that’s you!”

You were trying so hard to hold in your laugh, but failed. Logan playfully rolled his eyes. It was Ada’s day, he wasn’t going to get mad at her on her special day.

“Okay birthday girl, I believe your sisters promised a special birthday breakfast just for you.” Logan told Ada.

The now six year old gasped as soon as she heard ‘special breakfast’. She immediately jumped off the bed and ran downstairs to the kitchen where Laura and Rogue were making breakfast.

Logan sighed deeply and rolled over to his side, his eyes meeting yours. “Remember . . . Everything is going to be okay today.”

You hummed in response.

Eventually you and Logan joined the girls in the kitchen. Laura and Ada were throwing grapes into each others mouth while Rogue laughed at them failing miserably. Ada had thrown a grape so far from Laura that it hit Logan’s head when he walked in.

“Ada! You hit an elderly man!” Rogue teased.

“Kids.” Logan rolled his eyes yet again.

As a family you all sang happy birthday to Ada as Rogue placed a stack of pancakes topped with whipped cream and Ada’s favorite fruits. The little girl’s smile brought joy to her family.

“Wait, let me get the camera!” You ran to the cabinet that had random items inside. You grabbed the camera and snapped a couple of pictures of your girls and Logan.

It was a beautiful start to a beautiful day.

As the day went on, Rogue and Laura helped decorate the backyard with princess themed decorations. Ada was too busy running around in her pink princess dress to help. Logan was inside blowing up balloons until members of the x-men started showing up.

“Is that the big bad wolverine in a plastic tiara?” Scott Summers chuckled at the sight of Logan wearing a tiara that Ada had given him.

“Watch it, I don’t want you bleeding all over my daughter’s party when I—” Before Logan could finish, Ada joined them with more tiaras in hand. She gave one to every member telling them they couldn’t enter her party if they didn’t wear it.

And that’s how Scott Summers ended up with a plastic pink tiara on his head.

Ada was enjoying her party so far. A couple of classmates did end up attending. You saw as they played on the swing set that Logan had bought for Ada for her last birthday.

“Hey, sweetheart.” Logan said as he stood beside you.

“Hey,” you relaxed more when he was close to you. “Did you see the big box Storm brought for Ada? I bet it’s a big doll house.”

“You’re wrong. It’s definitely a large case of beer for me and you to enjoy when our girls are passed out.”

You chuckled. “After this, no more parties until next year.” You placed a kiss on his lips.

“Whatever you say . . .” He got another kiss in before Ada came running to you with a butterfly knife in hand and the biggest smile on her face.

“Mommy! Daddy! Uncle Wade got me a pretty knife!”

“Uncle Wade?!” “What the fuck!” You and Logan yelled at the same time.

“Hey mommy milf dearest! Peanut! Guess my invite got lost in the mail . . . again. I’m starting to think it’s on purpose. Harsh! Whatever, hey kids! Who wants to learn how to use this baby!” He held up his gun.

“Wade, No!”

#marvel #logan howlett oneshot #logan howlett x reader #logan howlett imagine #logan howlett #wolverine fluff #wolverine x reader #wolverine fanfiction #x men fanfiction #wolverine #logan howlett x you #marvel fluff #marvel fanfiction #x men one shot #x men imagine

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k2ntoss · 5 months ago

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I need more baby daddy Jason. Maybe sitting at the park watching him with ur kids and hearing the other moms ogling over him

yall dangerously feeding my brain rot and it's giving me a baby fever i do not wish to feed !!!!!!!!!!! but whoever says baby daddy jason you have my heart rn bc i adore that man!!!!!!!!!!!

by the end of the week it was already time for your kids to go out and have a pretty day at the park, jason had been really busy lately so you took the stroller and placed your babygirl on it before calling your boy, living copy of jason when he was a kid and you couldn't want it any other way because both of your babies had those pretty emerald eyes you so adored.

the way to the park was easy, those two kids had a way to be pretty little angels when it came to go out to the park and you loved that because jason would usually catch up with you sometimes when the work was too much and today was one of those days. your little boy was six and your little girl four, which made it a bit hard to have him playing around and keeping an eye on your babygirl but as soon as jason joined you it was time for the girl to also leave your arms.

jason has been an amazing dad, always making sure his kids and girl were just fine, that they had everything they could ever need and want and it was easy to see in the way the little girl giggles loudly when he sweeps her out of your arms and walks to the playground while you sit, keeping an eye on your son and it's easy to hear the small group of moms muttering and giggling close to where you're sitting.

"do you think he's single? maybe divorced... he just came and picked up the girl from her arms" one of the women says and you roll your eyes because you know how damn well jason looks and how easy it is for him to trigger a baby fever in anyone but the small pang of possessiveness and jealousy that stirs in your chest is there.

"he didn't kissed her, i bet she is the kids' mom but they're not together... i should try and get his number," oh, over your damn dead body anyone would even dare to try and getting jason's number but you know better so you sit, looking at your family with a fond smile because now your two kids are held by jason.

you look at him and you can tell he's been working out more recently because he seems fitter, a little less of that dad body he had gotten since your second child was born and you loved how he looked, broad and muscly but there was a little tummy that only made you drool even more for the father of your kids.

you had to endure the comments and ogling from that group of moms for at least half an hour until you decided you had enough. walking over the place where jason was playing with the kids you stood close, looking at him with a smile when he lifted his head to glance at you and the glint on his eyes made you heart flutter, he picked up the kids on his arms and strode towards you with the widest smile ever amd without saying anything else he leaned in to press a tender kiss on your lips.

"hey there, ma," he whispered still close to your face "i missed you..." the words never fail to make your whole body shudder as you stand in front of the love of your life because that's what jason was, flaws and everything he was everything you could ever want.

"missed you too, jaybird... mind if we take the kids for ice cream?" you ask with a soft tone and it's easy for him to notice what's going on when you don't even pull away but stand even closer while looking up at him like a lovestruck teen again.

that's when jason gently places your girl in the stroller and wraps his free arm around your waist before he peppers a few kisses on your neck earning a chuckle from you and a soft 'yuck' from your boy's lips.

"daddy! stop kissing mommy! let's go for ice cream" and the childish protest makes jason smirk, knowing now he had yet to deal with a whole bunch of spoiled babies instead of just you but he wouldn't have it any other way and like that, with his arm still around your waist jason makes the way to get ice cream and you can satisfiedly feel the disappointment in the group of moms that were shamelessly planing to hit on jason.

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moonstruckme · 5 months ago

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I absolutely adore your roommate James series! It’s so tender and soft and sweet and it feels like the literary version of a hug 😭 you nail it every time!

Thank you sweetness!!! I am giving you a hug actually <3

cw: threatening with a weapon

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 │ part 4 │part 5 │ part 6 │ part 7 │ part 8 │ part 9 │ part 10 │part 11 │ part 12 │ part 13

roommate!James x shy!reader ♡ 1.2k words

Things have come to a point where James needs to admit to himself that he likes you as more than a friend.

The problem is, he likes you as a friend so much. He’s no stranger to the dilemma of risking a friendship for something more, but he’s not a teenager anymore and you’re not Lily. James knows he wouldn’t be able to play it off as a silly, harmless crush with you. And, really, he wouldn’t want to. You bully your way into his thoughts all day long. Your sweet voice, the way you talk with your eyes, tiny moments like the way your lips parted when he’d first slipped and called you sweetheart. You’d schooled your expression into teasing exasperation almost immediately, but there had been a softening in your eyes that made him impatient to do it again.

If he told you all that, James would probably come home to find all your things gone. You can barely handle it when he tells you you look nice. He doesn’t want to lose you.

So, against his wishes and all his instincts and proclivities, he’s going to let it lie. James wants to be your friend more than he wants to discover what else you could be together. He can love you this way, too.

That doesn’t do anything to deaden the thrill that goes up his spine when he picks up his phone and hears your voice on the other end, though.

“James?”

“Y/n?” He checks the number on his phone. It’s not in his contacts.

“Yeah. Um, are you—are you busy?” There’s a wobble in your voice. James’ heart drops straight down to his stomach.

“I’m not,” he says, stopping short of the field where his teammates are gathering and turning back towards his car. “Is everything alright?”

“Yeah.” It’s clearly not, but he was silly to ask. Of course you’d say that. “I just, if you’re free, I was wondering if you could maybe pick me up?”

That wobble hasn’t gone from your voice. James’ heart trembles in solidarity.

He gets back in his car, starting the ignition with perhaps a tad too much force. “I’m on my way,” he promises. “Where are you, what’s wrong?”

“I’m outside the Waterstones on Manor Road, you know where that is?”

“I know the one, yeah.”

Your voice sounds held together by fragments. “I’m sorry, it’s far.”

“Don’t be sorry,” he says, then regrets it instantly. This is hardly the time for a good-natured scolding. He turns out of the parking lot. “I’m coming. What’s wrong?”

“I’ve—I’ve had my phone and wallet taken. I don’t have my key to the apartment.”

“Taken?” James’ head buzzes like a TV turned to the wrong channel. “By who?”

“A man, I—I don’t know. Um, I’m borrowing this woman’s phone, and I think I should give it back.”

His lungs feel small, panic choking him. “I’ll be there in thirty minutes. Be safe, yeah?”

“Yeah.” A breath crackles through the phone. James wonders if you’d been choking, too. “Thanks, James.”

“Just be safe.”

The sun has dipped below most buildings by the time he gets there. It makes it difficult to see you, but James’ eyes work like a compass, finding your shadowy form curled up on the curb. The bookstore looks to be closed or close to it, no patrons walking by you as you sit with your knees bent close to your chest.

You see his car pull up, and he’s halfway to you before you’re even standing. Your arms come around James as readily as his around you, your face squished willingly into the fabric of his workout shirt. Your breath seems to stutter out of you.

“It’s okay,” he says, grasping the back of your head. He’s not sure if he’s talking to you, or himself, or either of you. He’ll tell whoever will listen. “You’re okay, sweetheart, it’s alright.”

“Sorry,” you squeak. “I don’t know why I’m crying now.”

“You’re okay,” James says again, just for good measure. His lips find the top of your head. “What happened?”

“I think I was mugged,” you laugh. It comes out warped, completely unlike the sound he’s spent months chasing after. “This guy showed me a knife, and told me to hand him my bag and phone, and I just gave them to him. It was right out in the open.” Another jagged, heart-aching laugh. “I feel so stupid.”

“Why would someone else mugging you make you stupid?” James lets you go enough to give you a little space, but his arms stay around you, his hand rubbing firmly over your shoulder blade. “Did you call the police?”

You gnaw on your lower lip. It already looks bitten to shreds. “No.”

He nods, taking a breath. James isn’t typically the responsible one in his relationships. He’s not good at knowing what to do. It makes him think of being thirteen and seeing Sirius all bruised and broken, feeling his heart break and knowing that he had to fix things despite the both of them being too young to have any clue how to deal with something so huge. James is an adult now, but he still feels too young.

“Do you want to go home?” he asks you.

You bite down hard on your lip, but your eyes gloss anyway. “Yeah,” you say, voice breaking.

James pulls you close and gives in to treating you the way he wants to, kisses pressed into your hairline and tender words pouring from his lips. He gets you into the car and takes you home.

Throughout the rest of the evening, you’re at once more reticent and more talkative than you’ve ever been. You’ll stare into the distance for minutes at a time, but then you’ll speak up, seemingly randomly, about some small fact you’d forgotten or a thought that’s been pushing at your consciousness. You tell him that you don’t think you could describe the man well enough to the police. That you have no concept of how long you stood around before you thought to ask for someone else’s phone. That you sort of wish you’d refused to hand yours over, because really what was the worst that could have happened?

“Well, he could have stabbed you,” James says.

“Yeah, but how often is that really fatal? And he might not have. It’s embarrassing, all he had to do was show me the knife and I turned everything over. I probably would have been fine.”

“I don’t think you’re automatically fine if you’re not dead, angel. You were still at risk of being stabbed.”

“I’d still have my phone and everything, though.”

“I think you’re worth a bit more than that stuff.”

“Mm, agree to disagree.”

James does things he doesn’t particularly want to do—phoning your bank, filing a police report online, texting your landlord about a new set of keys—and several things he really does want to do. Once you’ve changed into your cozy clothes he practically swaddles you in blankets, putting a hot chocolate in your hand and that show you’re always watching on the TV. He makes you dinner, teases you until he gets a real smile, puts your mum’s number in his phone and texts her to let her know you’re okay. James touches you amply, lips on your cheek and hand smoothing the hair from your face and one knee pressing into your leg through the blanket.

And you let him.

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sometimesanalice · 7 months ago

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Between Friends

Summary: Bradley and you don’t talk about that Spring Break. But a single question asked during a night out at the Hard Deck might just change things between the two of you forever.

Pairing: Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw x Female Reader

Length: 11K

Warning: smut (including loss of virginity), brief mention of underage drinking, and college!bradley in a backwards hat

(Author's note: Happy Birthday Jordan! I wrote this just for you! Look at me keeping secrets from you! Enjoy!)

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

#bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw x female reader #bradley bradshaw imagine #bradley bradshaw x you #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #bradley bradshaw smut #top gun imagine #topgun fanfiction #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw x you #bradley rooster bradshaw x female reader #bradley rooster bradshaw fanfiction #bradley rooster bradshaw imagine #rooster x reader #rooster x you #rooster x female reader

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nitewingbabi · 1 year ago

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↳ please respond…I showed you my cock ⚤ ghostface x female!reader 【 18+ ONLY — Minors DNI 】 ✉ taking requests part 2 ▻ a pretty mouth

2023 was a different year for everyone. Covid was 2020's big killer, and now ghostface seemed to be claiming 2023 as his year. You were one of his taunting targets. Text messages, phone calls, notes in your locker or mail. He had even been in your room once to leave a message on your mirror.

‘I like the red ones’ which was referring to your panties that you were trying on the other day after doing some much needed retail therapy with some friends.

Your group was getting smaller and smaller as more students were murdered, kidnapped or not heard from in weeks. Curfew was getting shorter that soon enough school was sure to be cancelled until the police solved whoever was running around killing everyone.

It’s Tuesday night and you just finished showering, you had been blowdrying your hair for the last 20 minutes. The recent news far from your thoughts, the truck load of school work that was due was giving you a migraine. Finally your hair was dried and you were ready to slip into bed and start your assignment. You turned your TV on, immediately putting on your current Netflix show that you were binging.

Eyes flicking back and forth from your laptop screen to your TV. You hadn’t checked your phone since you started to shower and noticed you had multiple messages from an unknown number. But it wasn’t unknown to you. You knew exactly who it was.

Unknown Number +1**********

➤ quiet night?

➤ parents aren’t home.

➤ neighbours are out of town.

You had only had one actual physical contact with ghostface which was two weeks ago. He chased you around your house until your neighbours came barging in and he ran away. Ever since you had your parents change the locks and debate whether or not to send you across the country to live with your aunt and uncle until it was all over. You pleaded that they didn’t and instead they paid for a self defence class for you.

Your phone buzzed again, drawing your attention away from the TV.

Unknown Number +***********

➤ i liked the little show you put on for me the other day.

➤ wish i had been there to ruin those little red panties

You weren’t sure what to write back, you sat there debating if you should even write anything back and entertain this creep.

Just as you put your phone down, the screen lit up and the room echoed from your ringtone.

Unknown Caller

You weren’t sure if you should pick up, but something inside you made you do it.

“Hello?” You hesitantly asked as you held the device up to your ear. Waiting to hear that deep voice that you couldn’t recognise.

“Hello y/n. Enjoying your show?” Your eyes met your TV screen to see your show playing still on low volume. You turned the TV off, quickly standing to your feet to look out your window. It was barely lit outside from the streetlight and nothing seemed to stick out like a sore thumb.

“Who is this? Why are you tormenting me?” You had asked the question too many times that it was just routine, you’d hope that one time he would budge and just tell you.

“The question isn’t who I am. the question is where I am.” You heart began to race, eyes searching endlessly out your window, he had to be close by. You suddenly felt the booty shorts and crop top that you had slid into wasn’t the best attire to be wearing at home alone whilst being stalked by a psycho.

“Look asshole, you wanna play games. I can play.” You weren’t sure what you exact plan was, but it was the first thing to pop into your head. Were you terrified of ghostface? Yes. But did it also arouse you how much he called you, texted you, the fact he had probably seen you naked countless times, even possibly pleasured himself to the sight of you.

“Oh yeah? In the mood for monopoly?” He chuckled darkly on the other end, you could only hope he was still watching you from where he was. With your free hand you danced your fingers down your torso, dipping into the waistband of your shorts and panties and itching your way to your centre that was throbbing. You could hear a deep growl on the other end.

You chuckled into the phone, knowing he was definitely watching you now. You breathed a soft moan as your fingertip circles your juicy clit, using your arousal as lube to slick your finger around the bundle of nerves. Your moans grew louder and your mouth fell agape as you began walking backwards onto your bed, allowing yourself to fall back into the plush mattress and send yourself into a bliss.

You had forgotten about ghostface, your phone falling from your ear to beside your head.

“Hey!” Your eyes popped open as you remembered he was still on the other end. You quickly grabbed it, slowing your circles to keep yourself on edge.

“I want to hear your pretty cries when you cum, I want you to cum to me and only me. You got that princess?” His words were sharp and threatening, just like the blade he used to murder your friends. God you were getting turned on and touching yourself to a psycho killer. The unexpected happened next. A snapchat notification came through.

Gfce23 added you on Snapchat!

It was him. It had to be. You accepted, still working yourself and slipping a finger inside your dripping cunt to get more arousal on your clit.

Immediately a video came through, along with a few photos. You bit your lip as you thought about what could possibly be on the other end. You had to take the chance though, you were too far down the rabbit hole.

“Open them, I want you to see what you fucking do to me.” His voice was hoarse and breathless, you could tell he was jerking himself on the other end or something. You clicked on the purple square. Your eyes met a hard cock, veiny and thick. The tip an enraged red with a slight purple tinge. A single drop of precum oozing out the slit and his black leather glove wrapped around his cock.

The video began playing and his hand jerked his cock slowly, throaty moans echoing as the video continued to play and that drop of precum dripped down his pinkish shaft. A small bush of pubic hair that led to a faint snail trail and a set of what you could only guess were abs.

His hand got faster and his moans got faster as he pumped himself hard in his hand, but before you could view more you heard your parents car pulling into the driveway with their faint music blaring.

Ghostface was in the back of your mind as you quickly closed your phone and got settled into bed. Ghostface didn’t call you back, didn’t text you and didn’t send anything else to you that night. But that does’t mean he let you off easy.

It had only been a few days since you last heard from ghostface, but when you did you were surprised to see the message he had sent through was not his usual taunting, threatening approach.

Unkown Number +**********

➤ i want to see that pretty pussy spread out tonight

➤ leave your window unlocked

➤ i know your parents wont be home

➤ hope you like it rough princess

#ghostface smut #ghostface #scream #scream2 #scream3 #scream4 #scream5 #scream6 #screamsmut #mickey altieri #mickey altieri smut #billy loomis #billy loomis smut #ghostface x reader #smut

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ja3yun · 4 months ago

Note

Can’t stop thinking about brothers!best friend hoon who you accidentally send a spicy pic to and he ends up getting super jealous like who did u mean to send this to and you shouldn’t be doing this kind of thing but instead of telling ur brother he shows you that you should be sending them to him instead 🤭

okaay, so i went a bit ott w this and wrote 1.2k words but please enjoy!

brother's best friend!sunghoon x fem!reader

warnings: smut (mdni), nudes, masturbation, cumming and moaning, recording lewd acts, anything else lmk!

-----

you mean to send it to a fwb or situationship and accidently click sunghoon’s name. it would be a tit pic or one of you in your underwear holding your tits as you snap a pic in the mirror.

the message comes through and sunghoon is with your brother either playing video games or watching a movie. when your name pops up, he eyes it oddly, wondering why on earth you would text him so late or even at all. usually, the only reason you do is to get a ride but as far as he knows, you’re staying in tonight.

he opens it, catches a glimpse, and quickly locks it again. placing it face down for good measure. part of him doesn’t believe it because why are you send him such a picture like that, you hardly speak to him - much to his disdain - so a spicy picture is the last thing he expects.

sunghoon looks over to your brother, assessing if he caught his unfamiliar reaction. when he concludes that he hasn’t, he picks his phone back up and unlock it again, this time a little more prepared.

he studies the picture closely, every curve and bump of your body look so delicious that it sends his heart rampent and in consequence, his cock twitches uncomfortably as it strains the zipper of his jeans. sunghoon knows it’s wrong to be looking but you sent him at, if anything it would be rude not to ogle.

the message attached to it reads “a little gift for you”, not your best sexting but men are easy to get riled up, they don’t need shakespear level captions to nudes; sunghoon is the perfect example.

smirking, he types out a reply “my birthday isn’t until december, so what’s the occasion?”

and that is the moment you see the name park sunghoon printed loud and clear at the top of the screen and you halt all your actions, that sick feeling in your stomach. of course, you have had a crush on your brother’s best friend for as long as you can remember, who wouldn’t be attracted to the park sunghoon?

you search every way to erase the message but it's there now, in his grasp forever. he probably thinks you’re some pervert, sending unsolicited nudes to men who never asked but you really thought you were spending it to the man who requested it.

shakily, you type out a quick, feeble “sorry! please delete that, it wasn’t for you.”

well, that makes his eyebrow quirk and a scoff form in his throat because who the fuck are you sending spicy pictures to if not him? how many have you already sent to perverted men who don’t deserve to see you in such beauty.

your brother turns around at the sound of sunghoon’s disgruntled snarl and sees him typing back.angrily, asking his friend if he is alright. sunghoon can’t exactly tell him that he’s scolding you for sending smut pics to men that aren’t him, so he brushes it off and says it’s someone from work asking him to cover a shift.

“and who was it meant for? you shouldn’t be sending pictures like this to losers.” he wants to say more but he leaves it at that and adjusts his pleading cock in his trousers. well, until you send him a response.

“i can send them to whoever i like.” its snappy, rude, and not want sunghoon wants to read. now that he’s saw your body scantily-clad, he wants to be the only one that ever sees it, meaning, he needs to give you a reason to never think about taking pictures like this to anyone else.

“no you fucking can’t.” he hurriedly types out the message, just in case you decide to send this particular picture to the correct recipient. standing up, he excuses himself from your brother's presence, knowing what he is about to do would constitute a break in their friendship.

you are off limits, you have been since they became friends, each lingering glance he stole, each excuse he gave to touch you, all of it went against the number one rule in their friendship; don’t get with my sister.

so as he locks himself in the bedroom, setting up his camera on the bedside table, he situates himself on the bed and frees his aching cock. the best way to stop you sending any nudes to other men is by making sure you don’t want any of the other men saved in your phone, and he is going to do that by sending you a little gift of his own.

pumping his cock lazily, he hits record before leaning back, squeezing and releasing just under his bell. the tip turns pink as he focuses his brain on the picture you sent, he can only imagine how your tits bounce when riding him.

he strokes himself faster and harder. “fuck, y/n, so tight,” he moans out, loud enough for the microphone to pick it up but quiet enough not to alert your brother of his wrong doings.

his thumb washes over the slit of his dick, rubbing it harshly as he imagines how snug he would fit inside your tight cunt, your walls enclosing on each protruding vein that decorates his thick and long cock. “wish i was inside you right now, fucking you to filth in your bed,” he grits out through his teeth, his balls tightening as his imagination grows wilder, thinking about how the tip of him would be ramming into you so fast that you eould be crying, begging him for more. there would be a bulge forming in your stomach due to his size and he would press down on it, adding to both of your pleasure.

“y/n…fuck i wanna fill you up so good that you don’t think about another man again.” the confession comes out strangled as he reaches his climax. “i’m gonna cum so deep inside you, are you ready, baby?”

the camera catches him spurting his seed over his stomach as he moans your name over and over again, a fountain of his cum coating him with each thought of you comijg undone above him; oh how he wishes his cum wasn’t wasted in his hand and instead painting your pretty cunt.

stopping the recording, he sends it before he changes his mind. he washes up and changes into a set of pyjamas to elude to your brother that his absence was innocent.

he plonks back on the couch just as his phone pings with a message from you: “get rid of him, i’m coming over.”

safe to say you won't be sending pictures to anyone but him ever again.

#aj answers #enhypen smut #enha smut #sunghoon smut #haze dni #lmaooo #i went and wrote a whole scenario here im sorry #aj writes

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aurumalatus · 1 month ago

Text

𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄 (𝐇𝐎𝐏𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐈𝐓 𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐒 𝐓𝐎 𝐘𝐎𝐔)

pairing. kinich x fem!reader

word count. 3.4k

genre/warnings. childhood friends to lovers (yes kinich literally invented this trope okay. sue me), mini-drabbles, childhood to university, modern!au, fluff and slight angst, lots of bantering but it's light-hearted i promise

summary.

you've always been a sore loser—kinich is just the only one brave enough to say it. or, you and kinich fall in love over the course of your lives, and one thing never changes—you're both idiots

author's note. credit to @/scythidol for the header images! a bit of a different fic format this time (who is she....). i'm sick over kinich, i have nothing clever to say or excuses to make. that's all, thank you for reading! i'm finishing this at 5am so i'll fix any errors later lol. reblogs/interaction highly appreciated!

“You’re annoying.”

The old TV in your backyard treehouse buzzes with static and the constant thumps of Kinich’s fingers against the controller buttons.

It’s a summer evening—crickets chirp merrily in the grass and lightning bugs float lazily through the air, glowing among the stars. You’re sitting next to him, knees pulled to your chest and the straw of a Capri-Sun settled between your lips.

His reaction (or lack thereof) to your words leaves you less than entertained, a sour pout fixed on your lips as he sighs.

“You’re a sore loser. We said whoever got up here first got to play first.” Despite the intense game occurring on the screen in front of him, he diverts about half his attention to watching you out of the corner of his eye. “And I got up here first.”

“But you always win,” you whine. Kinich nudges at his own juice box with his knee, and you roll your eyes before picking it up and holding it to his lips—he drinks gratefully, still focused on his game. You’re not sure why you keep agreeing to this bet; you don’t think you’ve ever won.

“Then you need to get faster.”

Both of you know that such a feat would be impossible—Kinich has been the fastest kid in your grade since you started school. His athleticism affords him a bit of popularity, still at the age where winning a playground race is essentially the deciding factor between the cool kids and the lame ones. But he’s not interested in any of that, and he makes that quite clear in his actions.

After all, all the popular kids avoid him since he started a fight with them last year.

“They were saying things about you,” he’d shrugged, like it was no big deal. The school seemed to think a bit differently, and his suspension felt like the longest week of your life.

The screen flashes then, a loud and colorful display that shows the words “you win”. Kinich leans back in his seat, a pleased half-smile spreading across his face.

“Okay, now you can play.”

He tries to hand you the controller, but you huff, crossing your arms and turning away.

“I don’t even wanna play anymore.”

Kinich is far more mature than you at this age—even your own mother tells you as much—so he merely sighs, accepting of your tantrum.

“Okay, what do you wanna do then?”

You ponder that for a moment. There’s a lot of things you do often, but many of them are things that Kinich is much better at than you. Playing video games, climbing trees, riding bikes—he’s far more talented at them all. It’s one of the reasons you even became friends in the first place—you’d practically begged him to teach you to beat the final boss of Super Mario Galaxy, and the rest was history.

“I don’t know,” you mumble noncommittally, blowing your straw wrapper at him. It lands right on target, bouncing lightly off his forehead as he rolls his eyes.

“Come on, whatever you wanna do, we’ll do it,” he says, poking at your cheek. “I’ll even play house.”

And you know Kinich hates playing house—he has boundless amounts of energy most days, and house isn’t “challenging” enough of a game for him to expend it. But he does it occasionally, just for you.

You brighten at the prospect.

“Really?”

“Yeah, yeah,” he sighs, already descending the treehouse ladder, waving you along. “Let’s go inside first, though. I’m hungry.”

Scrambling to your feet, you jump down to meet Kinich, already standing in the grass.

“Last one inside is a rotten egg!”

II.

The rainstorm ends just as classes dismiss—when you walk out the school entrance, a slight drizzle is still letting up, fresh puddles lapping at your toes. Kinich’s gaze finds you instantly as he slinks out of the school gates, bag tossed loosely over his shoulder.

“My socks are wet now,” you whine, patting down the edges of your skirt to look down at your shoes. You’d only just bought them recently, and your mom likely wouldn’t be pleased with the prospect of you ruining them so soon.

Kinich chuckles at first, a snarky sound as thick as the gathering clouds, only to sigh when your pout persists.

“Alright, alright,” he relents, squatting to the ground and gesturing for you to get on his back. “Don’t say I never did anything for you.”

He’s a bit frail, still in his growing phase—his bones and muscles shift rhythmically under his skin as he walks—but he’s so distinctly warm. The heat makes you curl closer, nose brushing against his neck.

He walks you home most days like this, spending the day at your house until the sky grows dark with dusk. His home life is something he rarely discusses, but you know enough, and you’re happy to welcome him to yours.

“You’re slow,” you mumble into his shoulder. The steady thump of his steps is comforting, nearly putting you to sleep.

“You’re heavy,” Kinich replies teasingly, adjusting your weight atop his back. His words are biting, but he’s being careful with his steps nonetheless, taking each one lightly so as not to jostle you.

“You’re rude,” you scoff back. His nose scrunches in annoyance when you loop your arms tighter around his neck, pretending to choke him as punishment. “You’re not supposed to say that to a girl.”

He blows his bangs out of his eyes, peering up at the newly visible sun that starts to dip low in the sky. You watch a cat scurry through the bushes to your right, golden eyes peering through the foliage before disappearing into the darkness.

“Yeah, that’s why I’m saying it to you.”

Kinich is always a bit wittier than you, a bit quicker to the punch, but you like that about him. You like a lot of things about him, and you’re sure he knows it, too. A weighty silence settles between the two of you, unnatural—it’s usually you who fills the silence, and Kinich who patiently listens.

But something bigger sits at the back of your mind, and the words are having trouble surmounting the obstacle of your tongue.

You’re still floundering for something to say by the time your house appears in the distance. The sight lights a fire under you—you don’t want to discuss something like this with your mother in earshot. You force the words out, voice weak and small.

“I heard Mualani confessed to you yesterday.”

The rumor had flown through the school like wildfire. Mualani is popular with the boys after all, so there’s bound to be quite a bit of heartbreak if she ends up in a relationship. Someone had seen them together at that sakura tree behind the school, and it instantly became a hot topic—it’s all you’ve heard about all day.

And though you know it’s not really any of your business, you can’t help but be curious, and the thought fills you with dread.

You manage a glance at his expression, searching for any sort of unrest, but he doesn’t show any at all. In fact, he seems wholly uninterested in the topic.

He shrugs. “Yeah, so?”

You take a deep breath for courage—you’re not sure you want to hear his answer.

“So? What did you tell her?”

And it’s nothing against Mualani, really—she’s kind and beautiful, and you wouldn’t blame Kinich for falling for her. She’s never done anything wrong to you at all. But a beat passes, and you’re already halfway through mourning the end of your long-time crush when he replies.

“I told her I was flattered, but I wasn’t interested.”

A sigh of relief escapes you then, but you reel it in quickly—he can probably feel you relax against his back at his response.

“Oh,” is all you say, as aloof as you can manage. Kinich latches onto your hesitation instantly.

“Why do you ask?”

“No reason,” comes your hasty reply. “...Is there any reason you said no, though?”

He frowns. “I don’t know. She just isn’t my type.”

“...Then what is your type?”

You’re going too far, you know—even just speaking the words has your chest twisting painfully, and you want to crawl into a hole and disappear. If Kinich isn’t an idiot, he can surely tell why you’re practically breathing down his neck over the whole thing.

But maybe Kinich is a little bit of an idiot, at least about these things, because he merely shrugs.

“Not sure. Never really thought about it.”

A frost unfurls in your chest, bitter—of course Kinich wouldn’t know, he’s never thought about anyone that way. Including you.

“Right.” You attempt a laugh, teeth gritting. “It’s all stupid anyway.”

You drop your head into his shoulder, trying to hide the pained expression on your face, and only then does Kinich’s stare flicker to you, soft.

“Right,” he says, a quiet rumble from his chest. “It’s really, really stupid.”

III.

Walks turn to drives when Kinich turns sixteen and buys his own car.

He’d saved up for months, working part-time jobs on weekends and after school, until the day finally came when he pulled up into your driveway, keys in hand. Your mom had been overwhelmingly proud—bought a cake and everything—and you’d merely been grateful that you no longer had to beg her to drive you places.

It’s nothing crazy, just a simple sedan, but it represents a freedom that the two of you have never experienced together before.

That’s how you end up parked underneath the flickering streetlight just outside your house, excitedly recounting a story to your best friend. He’d driven you home from your club after school, an errand that always ended in several other stops—today, it had been fast food and boba.

His eyes seem to glow in the fading daylight, a pretty jade and amber that you’ve always thought was beautiful. It feels a bit more intense with his stare trained on you—Kinich isn’t the talkative type, sure, but he always ensures that you know he’s listening.

“So then she was asking me about you.”

“Mhm.”

“And get this,” a nervous chuckle escapes you then, “she thought we were dating.”

Everything falls still.

It’s times like this that you really start to hate just how unreadable your best friend can be. Despite how much you tease him for it, you actually enjoy how difficult it can be to force an expression out of him—it’s a little challenge every day. But now, when you’re on the precipice of pouring your heart out, his impassive expression stings.

Nothing on his face changes, save for a slight tilt of his head—he’s considering your words. The silence feels endless; a lump starts to form in your throat, humiliation burning at your cheeks.

“I know, it’s so ridiculous,” you assert hurriedly, trying to avoid the rush of shame. “I mean, we would never—”

“Tell her we are, then.”

You’re sure that in that moment, your heart stops.

Truthfully, you hadn’t planned to get this far—you were planning on brushing over that part of the story and moving on, but something deep in your heart had forced it out of you. Now, you aren’t sure what you really want to happen.

It’s always been your underlying fear, that once Kinich finds out, everything will change. Or even if he does return your feelings, it’ll all go up in flames eventually and you’ll never be the same. It’s terrifying enough to have kept your mouth shut all these years.

A tense laugh erupts from your throat, cutting through the silence. “I—I mean, it’s not that simple—”

He arches a brow. “Do you not want to?”

That’s another difference between you and Kinich—he’s far more straightforward about getting things that he wants. It’s one of the reasons that people misinterpret him as cold, but he sees it as being logical.

You gnaw at your lip, fingers tracing over the car door. Do you?

If the countless daydreams and romantic notebook doodles are anything to go by, you do. You really do. You’re just not sure if you’re brave enough to take that step.

When you look at him again, he’s observing you carefully, a delicate fondness lying in his stare. You shrink under the weight of it.

“No, I do,” you admit quietly.

The moment falls still, and your eyes are drawn to the only movement within your line of vision—the quick bob of Kinich’s throat. Then, his hand advances toward your face at a measured pace, giving you endless opportunities to retreat.

Of course, you don’t.

“Can I��?” he asks, barely a brush of a whisper. The tension runs thick in the air as his tongue peeks out, swiping over his bottom lip at a tantalizing pace. It’s nearly enough to drive you crazy, but you know he’s just as anxious.

“Yes,” you breathe, wincing at the sound of your own voice—it sounds almost too eager.

But Kinich presses his lips to yours all the same, soft and wanting, and your heart flutters in your chest. It’s a chaste kiss, nothing like the fireworks-exploding-making-out-with-tongue types you’ve seen on TV, but it’s just right—it feels like him, and that’s all that matters. He pulls away slightly, lips still millimeters away from yours.

“I like you. If I’m not wrong, you like me too. I think it’s that simple.”

You almost want to laugh at the ridiculousness of it all. Though you’d never admit it, you’ve practiced this scenario thousands of times in front of your bedroom mirror—what you would say to him, what he might say to you. Leave it to Kinich to not follow the script.

But he’s always done things his own way, so really, you should’ve expected this.

Gently, he reaches for your hand, fingers slotting through yours with ease. You sigh.

“I guess it is.”

IV.

“...that far, huh?”

Kinich stares at you upside down, head dangling off the edge of your bed as you sit at your desk, laptop keys clicking rapidly. He knows you’re serious about your future goals; you both are. He just never imagined it would bring the two of you so far apart.

You pause with one hand resting on the mouse, still staring at the screen. The map looks so daunting, too daunting, and you can’t imagine being that far away from him.

An awkward, weighted silence hangs in the air, and by the time a few seconds pass, you’ve already foreseen eighty different bad endings for this situation. Clearing your throat once, you force yourself to speak.

“Kinich, I—”

“I get it.”

He doesn’t mean to interrupt you so suddenly, but he does. He couldn’t stop himself if he tried. Because while he does understand—he really does—he also can’t help the stinging sensation of tears gathering in the corners of his eyes. It feels pathetic. It feels selfish. Here you are, chasing your dreams and supporting his, and he’s caught on the fact that there will be a little space between the two of you. And it’s not like it’s anyone’s fault, but maybe you’ll get tired of waiting and—

“You’ll come back to me, right?”

There’s an unmistakable thickness to your voice, evidence of the steadily growing lump in your weary throat. It grows larger with every passing second, an insurmountable mass dwarfed only by the impending distance between you and him.

That question catches Kinich off-guard, and he nearly wants to laugh then; not because he doubts you at all, but because he doesn’t, and he finds it ridiculous that you would ever think otherwise. Here you are, worrying about him.

Kinich doesn’t have any doubts or fears. He never does when he’s with you.

Maybe that’s why.

With a light laugh, he lets his eyes flutter closed, finally allowing an uneven breath to fill his lungs. The natural light outside is slowly dimming, the fluorescent lamps dotting your street flicking on one by one. He knows he should go home soon. His car is sitting outside, the same one the two of you have had endless adventures, fights, and make-ups in. It’s the same one he will use when he moves an unfathomable distance away from you. The same one he will use on the day you will cry, clinging to him like your life depends on it, before watching him disappear into nothing but a mere dot in the distance.

His fist clenches at his side.

But you’re still here, the closest feeling he has to home, and you’re still in love with him, and he is still in love with you.

Maybe that’s why this is enough, for now.

Turning onto his stomach, Kinich sees you right-side up this time, and it’s like nothing has changed.

“Don’t ask questions you already know the answer to.”

A knock echoes on your apartment door in the middle of the night.

You raise a brow at the sound, a bit unnerved—a lone college girl answering the door in the dark isn’t the safest thing, you think as you peek one eye through the peephole. But there’s a familiar figure standing outside, and it has your hand turning the knob immediately and flinging the door open.

He’s here.

“Kinich,” you breathe, in disbelief. Last you’d heard, he was somewhere halfway across the country, and certainly nowhere near your front door. But he’s here, in a black hoodie and grey sweatpants, looking like he’s just walked out of your dreams.

“Hey,” he says simply, as if his appearance hadn’t been totally shocking. He takes advantage of your shell-shocked state to invite himself inside, curiously looking through your apartment. “Nice place.”

You step aside in a daze. “Kinich—you—what are you doing here?”

He’s holding three flimsy bags in his fist, grocery store logos and restaurant labels stamped over the plastic, keys hanging off his pinky finger. He’d come prepared, clearly, but for what you’re not sure.

He towers over you a bit more than he used to, hair a bit longer, and everything about him feels so grown up. It reminds you of all the moments the two of you have missed over the years, how much change has occurred beneath your nose, maybe without you realizing.

He spreads the bags over your kitchen table—the mouth-watering smell of Chinese takeout filters through the air, and your stomach grumbles in reply. But it’s your tear ducts that react initially, a sting at the corners of your eyes as you squeeze them shut.

Kinich doesn’t notice at first, absorbed in inspecting the photos displayed on your wall—photos of you, photos of him, photos of the two of you together. It makes his chest warm that you still think about those times. He does too—after all, it’s rare that you leave his mind.

But he turns back to you, tears running rivers down your cheeks, and his breath hitches.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, carefully cupping your face. A lilt of panic laces his voice. “Does something hurt? Are you sick?”

“You’re here,” you sob, curling into his shoulder. None of it feels real. He’s warm and firm beneath your fingers, and you clutch at him tighter, half-expecting everything to disappear. It’s so much different than FaceTime or calling or anything else you do when he’s away. Because right now, he’s completely within your reach, and everything falls into place.

“Of course I am,” he murmurs. You cry into his hoodie, soaking the fabric with your tears, but he holds you close all the same. “Because you’re here.”

You spend a few minutes that way—you crying until your tears dry over your skin, and him comfortingly rubbing at your back. Air slowly returns to your lungs, and you sniffle, glassy eyes meeting his.

“But why? I mean, it’s the middle of the semester, isn’t it?”

A rare half-smirk graces his lips.

“We made a promise. I came back to you first. So I do believe that means that I win,” he says. If you weren’t so emotional, you might have rolled your eyes—of course, all he ever focuses on is winning.

He drags you over to the couch, laying down and pulling you on top of him, safe. You draw closer to him, tangling your limbs together until you’re not sure where he ends and you begin.

“You’re annoying,” you whisper, muffled into his chest.

Kinich shakes his head, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“You’re still a sore loser. Thought you’d grow out of that by now.”

You grumble a few choice words at him, and he smiles—a sight that only you and the stars can claim to have ever seen.

And he’s right; you are a sore loser, and he’s been right just about every time he told you so. But you find it doesn’t matter, not really.

You could never win against Kinich anyway.

(Maybe you never wanted to.)

#genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #kinich x reader #kinich #kinich x you #genshin impact #genshin impact imagines #adeptus ink

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