#and; yeah sure there were plenty of those for straight relationships

[origami-butterfly]

Hate it when j&h adaptations give Jekyll a female love interest, like bitch, he HAS a love interest who is introduced on the first page, and his name is MR UTTERSON THE LAWYER.

[flemingsfreckles]

Better Boyfriend than Him (18+)

Jessie Fleming x Reader

Preview: Jessie finds out your boyfriend is leaving you unsatisfied in the bedroom, she offers to prove that she’s can treat you better than him. (Inspired by the song Boyfriend by Dove Cameron)

Warnings: SMUT (18+) frat boy Jessie vibes, oral sex (r receiving), fingering (r receiving), suggestive comments about straight sex, small mention of masturbation, technically cheating on boyfriend by reader.

Word Count: 4.7k

A/N: this is the first time I’ve written any form of smut, maybe not my finest work but I wanted to give it a shot.

“I thought your attitude was going to be fixed once you started getting laid regularly. What happened to that?” Those were the first words spoken to you by your best friend that afternoon. You had just opened your apartment door, slamming it behind you, kicking off your shoes with a huff. You had gotten home from your boyfriend’s apartment to find Jessie already at your place, making herself at home. She was your best friend and naturally you both had the spare key and an ongoing open invitation to each other’s apartments.

You had texted her to let her know you were leaving his place and she had run over wanting to spend time with you. Your new relationship had been taking up more of your time, the time that Jessie usually got to spend with you.

“Shut up, Jessie.” You say, a bit harsher than you should but you were already annoyed and felt like any small inconvenience could set you off like a bomb. Moving over to the couch, she had already helped herself to chips and a gotten out a pair of beers one for each of you. You slump down next to her, a heavy sigh leaving your body as you bring the bottle to your lips.

“Oh come on, it's a joke.” She gently pushed on your shoulder. “Seriously though, maybe you should try getting laid more often, I’m sure he wouldn’t mind.” Jessie’s eyebrows wiggle suggestively at you. You know she means well, as far as she’s aware getting laid should relax you, and it would, if your boyfriend was any good in bed.

“I’m technically getting laid plenty often Jess, it’s just not helping.” She glances at you, tilting her head in a questioning manner. You realized you messed up with the way you chose to phrase your sentence, she was going to ask questions.

“What does that mean? How are you technically getting-” You shoot her a pointed look, slight scowl across your face, wanting to end this conversation as quickly as possible. Jessie quickly puts two and two together, stopping her sentence and just replying with. “Oh.”

“Yeah.” You look down feeling a slight flush come across your face, embarrassed that you accidentally just admitted to your boyfriend lack of sexual talent.

“I thought you said it was good, you came raving to me after the first time and from what I heard the other day, it sounded like you were having a great time. What happened?” The confused look from before comes back across her face, this time it has a bit of concern mixed in.

Your embarrassment wasn’t aided by the fact that Jessie brought up hearing you and him the other day. You had forgotten to tell her he was coming over and Jessie had opened the door of your apartment to noises that she won’t ever be able to unhear.

Leaning back on the couch, staring at the ceiling, you give her the answer. “I lied, it was fake.” Pinching the bridge of your noses between your thumb and index finger, you wait for her response. Part of you expects her to be angry at you for lying to her. Looking over at her, she doesn’t look angry or upset with you, she looks sad. She’s giving you the same look you would an injured puppy. Her brown eyes soft, a very faint trace of a sympathetic smile across her lips.

“Is it like everytime? You know? That he doesn’t make you…” her sentence trails off as she looks at you. The red flush that had just been on your cheeks starts to cover the rest of your face and neck, clearly embarrassed by what you had said.

“Jess, can we not do this, please?” Covering your face with your hands, you didn’t want to have this conversation with anyone. You didn’t want to have to explain that your boyfriend wasn’t able to satisfy you, that you had to pull out all the acting for him so that he felt satisfied with himself. You especially didn’t want to have to admit this to Jessie, you knew she’d find it hilarious that your boyfriend was bad in bed. She always made comments about how women do it better, specifically how she does it better than anyone. She had a small reputation, not necessarily for making her way around but she had slept with her fair share of girls at school, well known for the rounds she had made in various sororities and sports teams. She was right, most people gave her raving reviews.

Taking the attempt to change the subject as a yes to her previous question Jessie’s mouth drops open, her previously soft eyes now wide, eyebrows raised.

“He’s never made you cum? That’s embarrassing.” She paused before quickly adding, “For him! Not you.” Not wanting you to think she was calling your inability to finish embarrassing.

“Maybe it’s just hard for me to finish, some people are like that, maybe it’s not his fault. I mean he tries.” Cringing at the words as they come out of your mouth, you question why you continue to respond. Jessie was your best friend but this still felt embarrassing.

“Well, is it always hard for you to finish?”

“Obviously, so it must be me, that’s why I haven't been able to finish any of the times I’ve slept with him.” You continue to defend your boyfriend.

“That’s not what I meant. When you’re doing it solo, is it hard to get there?”

“I’m not answering that.” Feeling your face heat up even more than it already was, your skin feeling like it was burning under Jessie’s gaze. You hadn’t expected her to pry for details about you touching yourself.

“Oh come on, don’t be a prude, we all do it.” The deadpan look on her face indicated that she was fully expecting you to answer the question she had proposed.

“No, it’s easy. It’s different when I’m alone though!” Again you came to the man’s defense and you’re honestly not sure why.

“So he’s the problem. That’s not hard to realize.” When you don’t respond or even look in her direction, she adds, “You can’t just continue to convince yourself that you’re the problem.” When you don’t respond to her, she continues on.

“I’d put him to shame, I’ve only ever left happy customers.” She laughs as she says it, bringing her bottle to her lips to finish the drink off.

“I’m sure you would.” Adding an eye roll at her overly confident statement.

“What? You don’t believe me?” Her eyes squint at you now, hand on her own chest as if she was insulted by your words.

“Sure I do,” the sound of sarcasm was dropping off your words, “all I’m saying is talk is cheap Fleming.” Knowing you would be pushing on her nerves a bit, you continued. She had a reputation and it sure was positive, you didn’t actually doubt her abilities, just not confident they’d work on you.

“Well what, do you want me to prove it?”

“What if I said yes?” You’re not sure what made the challenge come out of your mouth. You didn’t even think before saying it. Maybe it was the annoyance with your boyfriend, maybe it was the three months of pent up sexual frustration, maybe it was Jessie’s confidence surrounding her skills.

Jessie doesn’t respond. Panicking as you realize you just asked your best friend to cross a line beyond friendship, you begin to back track.

“You don’t have to, sorry I shouldn’t have said that, I’m not sure why I did, I don’t actually expect you to-.”

You’re cut off by Jessie walking over to you, taking two strides before grabbing your face, tilting it up and bending down so her lips could meet yours. She pulls away for a second, nodding her head in the direction of the couch, her hand coming to your legs to help you move them so you are laying down. Following your actions Jessie climbs onto the couch, placing herself above you and reconnecting your lips.

Jessie was now on top of you, your back pressed firmly into the couch as her weight and hips held you down. Her hands on either side of your head. She continues to kiss you, each kiss growing sloppier. It had moved from sealed lips pressed together to your lips sliding against hers. Now she had started to open the kiss allowing her tongue to tease at your closed lips. It didn’t take much convincing on your end to open your lips and let her tongue meet yours.

Your hands found their way to her hair, one grabbing a handful at the base of her neck and pulling gently away from you. Taking the hint, Jessie pulled back. She opened her eyes to look down at you. Something about her gaze had almost a dominant expression to it, the way she was hovering over you, trapping your body between hers and the couch, you found yourself biting your lower lip as you looked up at her.

“Are you going to prove it or are we just going to makeout?” Impatience has started to spread in your body. You could feel your heart pounding against your chest, the noise loud in your ears. You secretly hoped Jessie couldn’t hear it.

“Are you sure?” Her soft eyes returned as she checked on you. Her eyes scan your face, the same way she would scan a textbook while the two of you would study, as if she was trying to commit every detail to memory.

“Please.” You weren’t usually one to beg in a situation like this but so desperate to finally feel something, you couldn’t help yourself. The last thing you needed was Jessie backing out if she felt like you were uneasy.

“Okay, let’s go then.” She sat back on her feet before moving your thigh out her way, standing up and placing a hand out for you to grab. With the assistance of her hand you stand up as well and follow her as she walks the two of you to your bedroom. Gently shutting the door behind you, Jessie places her hands on your hips gently rubbing her thumbs against the bump of your pelvic bone.

“Are you sure?” You give her a quick nod, eyes locked on hers. “Okay, if you want to stop at any point, just tell me.”

“I will.”

With your confirmation Jessie pulls you toward her again, your chest coming to meet hers. Unsure of where to put your hands you leave them at your sides for a minute. Still kissing you, you feel her hands leave their place on your hips and grab your hands. She pulls your left hand to her waist, just above her hips and your right she moves to her shoulder before her own find their place back on your hips.

Jessie begins to move her hands, they slide up slowly, coming up to cover your waist. They trail around your sides and onto your lower back. Her hands feel electric, leaving a trail of warmth wherever they go. You can feel her hesitation before she begins to slide her hands lower. She slides her hands into the back pockets of your jeans, giving a gentle squeeze. All it takes is that gentle squeeze to get a choked sigh to come out of your throat. Surprised by the noise, Jessie pulls back from your kiss.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, no I’m good. Keep going.”

Jessie does just that. Still holding your ass she spins you both, your back now toward the bed. You feel her start to lean forward, encouraging you to step backwards. She continues the pressure until you hit the bed frame, her hands coming off of your ass as you find yourself sitting down on the edge of the mattress.

Jessie gives you a quick peck on the lips before her hands are back on you, this time they meet the bottom of your shirt. She grasps it between her fingers, pausing and looking down at you

“Can I take your shirt off?”

Instead of verbally answering, your hands reach to your shirt, starting to pull it off yourself, she takes the hint and helps remove it for you. The black shirt you had been wearing is flung across the room, landing on your desk. A small gasp leaves your mouth as Jessie bends down grabbing the back of your thighs from where you were sitting on the edge of the bed and moves you toward the center. She climbs on the bed, taking her spot back on top of you.

You watch her eyes as they study your body again, her gaze now floating across your chest where your black bra still hides your breasts. Licking her lower lip, her hand moves, running fingers down from the band of your bra to the top of your jeans. A trail of goosebumps rising in response to her touch. She continues tracing lines and circles across your bare stomach, such a simple act and yet it was making you start to squirm, wanting more from her.

“Jess,” her hand freezes in its path and her eyes glance up to meet yours. Before she has the chance to ask if you’re okay, you add, “take my bra off.”

Leaning down she attaches her lips to yours as her hand previously on her stomach moved to the back of your neck. She gently pulls you forward, encouraging you to sit up. You do so, letting her other hand that had been supporting her body weight move to your back, she unclasps your bra easily. You mentally roll your eyes, knowing Jessie is probably too proud of that one handed skill. She gently lays you back before moving both of her hands to the straps. She pulls the straps down your arms, fully exposing your chest to her.

You watch as her eyes wander from one side to the other. Thankful that she’d see you topless on a few occasions before while changing, you felt a bit more comfortable being exposed to her.

“Maybe I shouldn’t say this, but you have some of the best tits I’ve ever seen, and I’ve seen my fair share.” Her eyes meet yours for a second before she is back staring.

“Thanks? I guess.” You’re not sure how to respond to her compliment. She continues to stare, her hands staying firmly on your stomach.

“Do you like them played with?” Her eyes bounce between your breast where your nipples had gone hard from the chill of the room, definitely not from the arousal Jessie, your best friend, was causing you.

“He doesn’t usually do much with them besides like a squeeze.”

“Okay, but I don’t care what he usually does. I’m trying to literally do everything he doesn’t do. I want to know what you like, what feels good to you. Stop thinking about just what he does.”

“Then yes, touch them.”

Jessie doesn’t need to be told twice by a pretty girl to touch her boobs. She sits back putting her weight on her legs freeing her hands. She gently cups your chest in her hands, gently squeezing before she moves her thumbs to graze over your already peaked nipples. You’re watching her movements but you can see in your periphery her eyes are watching your face. It felt good knowing she was watching, her attentiveness, her focus on making you feel good made your head spin. She wanted to please you, he was nothing like this.

She removed her hands temporarily placing them back by your sides to support herself as she leaned in to kiss you. The kiss was short lived as she pulled away, moving to place her lips against your jaw. Her warm mouth moved down, leaving a trail of open mouth kisses down the column of your neck before reaching your collarbone. Letting her tongue graze along the definition of the bone, you let out a sigh, you could feel as she smirked against your skin.

She continued on, making her way down your chest until her lips met the curve of your breast. Her mouth found every inch, intentionally avoiding your nipple. Her teasing only lasted a few seconds before she placed her lips against your nipple. Giving it a gentle kiss, testing the waters before going further. Not hearing any protest she continued. This time sucking with some force, letting her lips wrap around you. A small whimper fell from your lips. Her lips released your skin with a slight pop.

“What? Feels good?” A big smirk was across Jessie’s face, she was feeling proud being able to get you whimpering and moving under her by just barely touching you. Her cockiness was radiating off of her, you couldn’t even lie to yourself now, she may be your best friend but she was fucking hot.

You just give her a quick nod, unable to decide what words to respond with, slightly worried no words will come out, only a moan. Jessie sits back, removing her hands and mouth from your body. She adjusts herself so she is now straddling your leg. She brings herself back down, her lips attaching to the nipple she had been neglecting. With her new position, her thigh is placing pressure on your core, providing you the slightest bit of friction as she moves to attend to your chest. Instead of just sucking, her tongue is now circling, applying soft pressure to your sensitive bud.

“Fuck.” Your hand now reaches up to the back of her head, grabbing a handful of her hair and pushing her face further into your chest, wanting more from her. Happy to oblige, her tongue applies more pressure. As she goes to pull away, her teeth gently graze your skin, sending what feels like a shockwave from your chest down to where her thigh was placing pressure against you. You can’t help but tilt your hips in response, involuntarily grinding yourself against her.

Taking the hint that you were ready to move on, Jessie sat back her fingers trailing down your stomach before pausing at the waistband of your jeans. You felt as the tips of her fingers on one hand found their way between your skin and the band of your underwear. The other hand came to rest where the button of your jeans sat. She paused again, giving you the same look she had when she asked if you were sure, the same look she had given you before asking to take off your shirt, the same look she gave you before she touched you. Knowing she was going to ask, you beat her to it.

“Take them off.” Looking her in the eyes as her hands began to move slowly. She undid the button, slowly pulling down the zipper. Both of her hands finding the sides of your jeans, she begins to slide them down along with your panties, leaving you bare. She carefully removes your jeans, taking the time to pull them off, you lift your hips and legs accordingly. Once she has them removed they find a place on the floor, she turns back to quickly take your socks off and motions for you to lay back down.

Unlike before, Jessie had never seen you fully naked before, shirtless on occasion, a few times she’d seen you just in your underwear, and she had seen you in a swimsuit that didn’t hide much, but now here you were completely naked laying in front of her.

Your own insecurities start swarming in your head, slowly you pinch your knees together, subtly trying to cover yourself.

“We don’t have to do this if you’re not comfortable.” Apparently you had failed to close your legs subtly like you thought.

“No, I still want to, it’s just, I’m naked, and I just became very aware of that.”

“That’s kinda the point,” A soft laugh falls from her lips. “Not that it’ll help, but you should be proud of your body, you’re…” she hesitates “I’d say you're gorgeous but I’m not sure that’ll do it justice.” Jessie sits back up removing her own shirt, leaving her shoulders and stomach exposed.

“Thanks.” Your blush from earlier returning across your cheeks as you tried to accept Jessie’s compliment. You close your eyes taking in a deep breath and you relax your clenched thighs allowing your knees to fall back apart, giving Jessie access to you.

She lays down between your legs, her head even with your knees she turns to the side and places a soft kiss on your thigh before turning to the other one repeating the action.

You can’t help but think about your boyfriend in the moment and compare. Jessie was being so soft, so careful with you, checking in on you, and sure he made sure you wanted to, never doing anything you didn’t want, but this felt more intimate, more comfortable.

Continuing her trail of kissing Jessie slowly begins inching up toward your center. Her hands come up to the bend of your knees, she pushes them outward, spreading your thighs and placing your legs over her bare shoulders, giving you a small amount of skin to skin contact. She moves in close enough that you can feel her warm breath between your legs.

She hesitates, her eyes looking over you. Her tongue darted out wetting her lips before she leaned in. You sucked in air as you felt her tongue meet your center. It moved against your pussy with ease due to your pooling arousal. Tracing a line from your entrance up to your clit, she repeats the motion over and over, her eyes locked upward looking at you.

Her tongue slows down, licking slower and slower stripes before she stops with her tongue on your clit. Focusing on your sensitive bud, she begins flicking her tongue with light pressure. You bite your lip, holding back the moan that wanted to escape. Holding it in only lasted a moment as she began to suck softly, making the movements of her tongue feel even more pleasurable. As you had done before, your hands tangle themselves in her hair, pulling tightly on the strands. Small moans now fill the air of your bedroom, no longer feeling like holding them in.

The mixture of warmth and wetness of her tongue makes you throw your head back. You couldn’t help but stare at her, something about her looking up at you from between your legs, while she was eating you out made your brain feel fuzzy.

Pushing your thigh out with her hand, Jessie gave herself enough room to bring her arm up between your legs, her middle finger coming up to rest against your hole. She didn't push in yet, just resting her finger against you and slowly circling the opening. Her tongue still working against you, you could start to feel the faint clench on your abdomen, the same clench you would feel as you would bring yourself close to orgasm when you were by yourself.

Feeling Jessie’s finger enter, you clench around her, causing her to stop moving her finger and her lips to detach from your core as she looks up at you, you release her hair from your tight grip, just letting them rest on her head.. The sight of her looking up at you with messy hair and your wetness covering her lips and chin was not something you had prepared for.

“Are you alright? Sorry I should’ve asked before I used my fingers.” You could see her blown pupils from here, barely any brown remaining around them.

“No I’m good, it feels good, please keep going,” your voice comes out with a slight rasp that you weren’t expecting. Clearing your throat you add, “you can use two.”

Hearing your request, Jessie’s lips and tongue return to your now swollen and red clit. Her hand pushes up and back on your leg, giving herself even more room between your thighs. Still moving slowly Jessie begins to push her middle and ring finger into you. The feeling of her fingers opening you has you throwing your head back, closing your eyes to focus on the feeling. Jessie takes her time still moving only a knuckle at a time, making sure you were open enough around her. You feel your muscles clench again from the feeling of her long fingers along with her tongue.

She pauses when she’s fully inside of you. Instead of thrusting her fingers she just begins to curl them, placing pressure against your walls.

“Fuck Jessie.” Eyes snapping open as you register that you had just moaned her name. You keep your gaze at the ceiling, not daring to look down at the Canadian between your legs. Without looking at her you feel her reaction as she lets out a small moan of her own, the noise causing her lips to reverberate around your clit.

Her tongue continues its movements, she could feel you beginning to tighten around her fingers, becoming increasingly difficult for her to curl them inside of you. She begins thrusting her fingers slightly, still curving them up but adding more movement. The new movement is all you need, the warmth and tightness of your incoming orgasm begin to increase and spread.

“Please Jess.” You’re not even sure what you’re begging her to do, wanting so badly for her to push you over the edge, whatever it takes is good with you. You feel the pace of her fingers speed up slightly, the suction from her lips around your clit increases. The muscles of your thighs begin trembling as you become increasingly sensitive. Your back slowly pulls away from the bed as your arch into her touch. You only last a few more seconds on the edge before your orgasm washes over you.

A loud groan is released from your body as your hand firmly grasp Jessie’s head between your thighs. You push her hard into yourself as your hips move to grind yourself against her face. Your shaking legs wrapping around her head, your walls clenching her fingers so tight they no longer move in and out of you, just curling inside. The pleasure lasts a few seconds before it becomes too much, you let your legs fall off her shoulders and onto the bed. The hands that previously held her tight against you are pushing her back, she releases her lips from you. Her fingers remain inside of you, as you are still clenched around them.

Jessie doesn’t say anything immediately, she just looks up at you from between your legs, face covered in your arousal, her cheeks a slight red from her work. Waiting a second for you to catch your breath, her fingers stay still inside of you. With her free hand she swipes her thumb across her chin, collecting the mixture of her own spit and your wetness, bringing her thumb between her lips to suck it clean. She feels you begin to relax around her fingers, recovering from the intense pleasure, she slowly pulls out of you, a groan leaving your lips as she does so.

Her lips place one last quick kiss on your core, causing you to jump, pulling away from her, slightly being over stimulated. She moves from between your legs, laying down on her side next to you. She pulls the blanket up with her, covering your body and hers with it.

“See I told you it wasn’t you. It’s him.” You turned over to see her shit eating grin, you could still smell yourself on her face. You have the urge to reach out and make her kiss you, wanting to taste yourself from her lips.

“Shit.” Rolling back away you breathed out the word, staring at the ceiling. The reality of the situation comes back into your mind. Your best friend had just made you cum with ease, a task your soon to be ex-boyfriend hadn’t been able to do in the months you had been seeing him.

“What? Are you okay?”

“Yeah I just need to break up with my boyfriend.”

[thepeaklegendoffirstgen]

We're still on cool temperature level in the new arc luckily BUT IM MISSING MY SHAYLAA

You got anything with Hudson? Uhh maybe reader who is kinda part of Allied since he was brought back to the hotel after the lost😗 and reader been with him since. Just fluff and not exactly established relationship, reader just subly pinning and he kinda had the idea. Just never pressed it. Ty ily <33

- Beloved Dood

Hello, my beloved Dood. I hope you enjoy this😇❤️

You had been fighting at the other end of Busan, and by the grace of God, it was over. A couple of injuries here, a few scrapes there—but nothing too serious. At least that’s what you thought, until your phone buzzed.

“Everything alright, Zack?”

“Yeah, I suppose. Things are under control now. An injured friend isn’t that bad, is it?” he said, sounding meek.

You instantly knew who he was talking about. Your heart dropped.

‘Okay… where are you guys?’

‘I’ll drop him off at the hotel. The others aren’t picking up, Daniel’s line is busy, so you’re the only one left. If you don’t mind, can you keep an eye on him?’

‘Sure, no problem. And what about you? Are you okay?’

‘Yeah, I’m good. It looks like things escalated on a bigger scale. I’ll head over to where the others are.’

You ended the call and went straight to the hotel. Hudson arrived a little later—naturally, he had to be treated first. Your silly mind had imagined you’d be the one patching him up. You had daydreamed about it. But it was okay. You were just glad it wasn’t a life-threatening injury.

You saw him in the hotel lobby and waved. He was covered in bandages, a neck brace supporting him. From the looks of it, his injuries had been serious.

“How are you?” you asked, immediately regretting the question. What a stupid thing to say.

He looked at you with a nonchalant expression. “They were trash-talking my master. I know I’m not strong enough to go up against a 1st generation fighter, but I couldn’t hold back. The rest…” He trailed off, avoiding your eyes.

You wanted to take his hand and tell him that he did his best. That even his teacher would be proud. That you were proud. But it felt too raw, too sentimental. After all, you’d only known each other a short while.

So instead, you placed a hand gently on his shoulder and gave a small smile. The touch lingered longer than expected. Your eyes met briefly. Not wanting to make him uncomfortable, you quickly said, “Want to head to dinner? Or would you rather wait for the others?”

“Let’s wait, if you don’t mind. But you should eat—you haven’t eaten all day,” he said.

“It’s fine. But shouldn’t you be the one eating? You’ve got meds to take.”

He paused to consider it, but before he could respond, your stomach growled loudly.

He sighed, and your face turned crimson.

“It’s fine,” he said. “You know what? It’s best if both of us eat.”

You immediately turned and walked quickly toward the dining area, too embarrassed to say anything else.

He watched your retreating figure, noting how fast you were walking—just like you used to back at the fruit shop. His time there had been brief, but he’d noticed you coming by every day, buying something or another. He had tried his best to help you, noticing how your fingers trembled when he handed you the bag, how Sally would shoot you knowing glances, and how your gaze always lingered a little when it met his.

Even now, he was noticing things he probably shouldn’t. But he didn’t know what to do with those feelings. His first goal had always been to become strong—strong enough to protect Ansan, strong enough that no one could ever insult his teacher again, strong enough to protect yo—

Wait. What? There were plenty of women in Ansan. That wasn’t his goal. Not his priority.He brushed the thought away, only for it to resurface as you waved to him again from the dining area—this time to indicate that his favorite food was on the menu.

That smile of yours, at least, eased some of the bitterness stirring inside him.

[temmtamm]

My Favorite

Bradley Uppercrust x Reader

Tw: Making out, a little bit of a toxic relationship but it’s fun, Enemies with Benefits

Note: I NEED THIS MAN SO BADLY RAHHH I HAVE NEVER EVEN WROTE ANYTHING CLOSE TO SMUT BEFORE WHAT IS HE DOING TO ME

—

“Bradley!!”

A sharp echo of a voice rang out through the frat house, an annoyed hiss soon followed it, along with the clanging of plastic balls clicking against each other on the pool table.

Damn it. Not even close to a score.

The man bent over the table scoffed, his brows furrowing as he rose with a slow, restrained pace, keeping himself from lashing out at whoever must’ve had the gall to barge in screaming like that.

Well, he says it like it’s a big mystery…but it’s not. He did this song and dance plenty, plenty of times before.

It was (Y/N). One of the Gamma members that has joined of late. It’s funny, almost. They were only a year in, far away from all the other times spent in the fraternity and yet they have been the one to cause the most ruckus.

“Yes??” He hissed out, closing his eyes tight as he braced himself for the inevitable. His voice was a thin dance between silky and charismatic to ragged and harsh. He still had a front to keep up after all.

Sure enough, it was only a moment’s notice before a familiar teammate reeled around the corner, storming into the game room with a skateboard in hand.

Immediately, their nose scrunched up at the foul smell that resigned in the room. It was a sour pungent smell only brought on by the types of men Bradley surrounds himself with. The reek of beer and other substances having been left out to rot, the familiar sting of weed, and the scent of cheap body sprays and deodorants used to mask the scent on the men…yeah, it wasn’t working. Even with the place baron and empty except for the two, (Y/N) can still smell it distinct as ever.

They shook their head, snapping back to focus as they thrusted the board up towards Bradley, brows knitted together and lips pulled back into a sneer. “Mind explaining this??”

Oh, right. That thing. He forgot he asked Tank to do that.

He turned his head around slowly, looking over his shoulder and through his lashes at the board. Sure enough, one of those signature miniature boosters was latched on. “Well…It’s a skateboard. Thought that one would be obvious.”

“Don’t be a smartass.” (Y/N) hissed, cutting straight through his usual bullshit and thrusting the board into his chest as soon as he turned his body to face him. “I told you I don’t want your stupid tools!! You and your fella’s can cheat as much as y’all want, but I told you to keep that shit far away from my board, man!!”

Bradley stumbled backwards as the skateboard basically got dropped on him. The small of his back hitting against the edge of the pool table, the cold making goosebumps run under his skin and his fur frizzing up.

He huffed, annoyance setting into his expression as he gently set the board down–Not out of care of (Y/N)’s possessions but to not scrape or damage the contraband attached to it. “Hey, hey, hey!! Slow your roll, speed racer. What makes you think I’m behind this? The others are just as guilty as I am.” He purred out, his voice coming out in a drawl as he attempted to smooth talk and weasel his way out of the situation.

Not out of any fear or anything–Matter of fact, if it were any other person who pulled the stuff that (Y/N) has, they would’ve been kicked out a long time ago.

So, how were they so special??

Well…

“Don’t give me that. You know it’s you. It’s ALWAYS you!!” (Y/N)’s hand raised to run a hand through their hair, pulling it back away from their head as they felt their face grow hot with anger. “I keep on telling you over and over but you never listen!! You, you–” They huffed, their head turning away as their eyes glazed over the area, falling silent so they could think.

This type of thing had honestly been going on between the two of them ever since (Y/N) joined.

Why had they even joined in the first place?? Well, that was simple.

They were bright-eyed, bushy tailed, and finally free from their family. They were practically starving for excitement and freedom once they got to college only for…nothing to change.

Talking to people or trying to make friends still felt as harsh as chewing on nails, they had come to realize they weren’t as knowledgeable and perfect in their major as they had believed, and they were just…lonely.

Nobody to talk to, nothing to do, there wasn’t much that could excite and distract them from the depressing reality of their situation.

Well…until they remembered that old skateboard in their closet, a dumb little hobby they had back in early highschool back when they had freetime. Turns out, they were still good at it, just as good as they were when they were younger.

Whaddya know?? One thing led to another and they ended up catching the eye of a certain somebody.

They hadn’t much friends–or anyone really–outside of their family so obviously they fell hook, line and sinker for everything he said.

They believed him when he said that they had a talent, they took confidence in his words when he would praise and butter them up, then eventually when he asked for them to be a part of the Gammas…They accepted.

They wanted to believe him, that they were the best of the best and that if they just accepted his offer, they would be successful, happy, and have plenty of friends.

…Then again they can’t say they weren’t charmed by the idea of spending time with the man as well.

Though, they never expected this. They don’t praise themself as a champion or anything but they have more confidence in themself to rely on CHEATS to win.

What’s the point of playing if you’re just doing it to win?

They should’ve left the moment they figured that out…but they didn’t.

They just tried to be as independent from the practices as possible, to keep their morals and their beliefs honest despite their team.

Clearly that wasn’t working.

“Y’know what??” (Y/N) sighed, taking a deep breath as they did. Their voice fell down a few octaves, still upset but now more quiet and resigned. “I quit.”

Bradley perked up, his eyebrows flitting up as his charismatic smile fell. He shot up from the pool table he leaned against, closing the minimal distance between the two. “Ah, care to repeat that?? I don’t believe I heard you correctly. Surely my favorite player isn’t quitting so soon.” His smile returned, though it was a thinner, shakier smile. Neurotic even. That’s how he got when he didn’t have full control.

“You heard me. I’m tired of this, bradley. My boundaries aren’t being respected, I’m not being valued as a person, and I should've quit a long time ago. I’m done.” (Y/N) crossed their arms and turned their head away, refusing to look at him. If they can't see him, they can’t be…motivated to stay.

Bradley’s face darkened. His hands gripped at (Y/N)’s forearms, the pads of his paws pressing against the plush of their skin. The grip was almost desperate if (Y/N) didn’t know better. “You think you can just waltz up in here and quit?? Do you have any idea how much time and effort I–...We’ve invested into you, you ingrate!?”

(Y/N) jerked back, unfamiliar with the harsher treatment. They were familiar with his snide remarks and cold words, but to grip at them like this was a step too far. They’re many things but one thing they’re not is a pushover.

(Y/N) smacked his hand away, watching as he stumbled backwards. “Oh, like it was much.” They snapped, anger bubbling up once again. WHether they liked it or not, this man had a deathgrip on their emotions. “What time?? The time you spent buying gadgets instead of–Oh, I don’t know–Training??”

Bradley’s eye twitched as he backed up…though not for long as he was quick to step forwards again and jab his finger in their chest. “You ungrateful brat!! You have no idea all the time and effort I have spent on you. Now you just want to barge into MY house and quit?! I don’t think so!!” He sneered, his thin lips pulling back to reveal rows of almost fake looking broad white teeth.

“YOU–” He jabbed their chest again, the tip of his finger’s claw dancing over the skin that protected their heartbeat. “–signed that contact. You are mine. You will compete in MY team.”

“You think I’m scared of you?” Truth be told, their heartbeat did spike at the mention of the contract. Fuck. They forgot about that. This guy really loves to cover his tracks, huh??

“Get your finger out of my face.” (Y/N) huffed, smacking his hand away. He didn’t budge. They gritted their teeth, annoyance along with adrenaline building in their chest. Their hand grabbed at his slim wrist, twisting it away from them. It wasn’t nearly as hard as they could’ve gone.

One thing about Bradley is that he isn’t exactly the strongest man. He has Tank do all of his fighting. A pained yelp left him followed by a hitch of his breath, his voice getting higher and cracking as he quickly tried to jerk his hand away. “You tried to put your hands on me!!” His heart rate spiked, though not out of the same adrenaline (Y/N) was feeling.

“Calm down, prissy boy. I barely touched you.”

He did, in fact, not calm down. His other hand shot up, pushing at (Y/N) and being petty in the way that he tried to hurt them back in any way he could. Hitting, trying to grab at their hair, anything.

That lasted for around five minutes before (Y/N) had enough and shoved him back.

His back hit the border of the pool table once more, his breath hitching and a keening wail leaving his lips. God, he could be such a baby sometime. “You–”

(Y/N)’s hands rested against the tops of his own. They weren’t overly cruel or malicious, just caging his hands against the table to stop his tantrum. They looked up at him, their eyes dark with disdain and just…exhaustion. They did this plenty of times before, they were not impressed by anything he would weasel.

Yeah…He thinks he can start to remember why he keeps them around.

It should be humiliating being treated like this. Someone as high on the social ladder as him, someone who has crazy “Fuck you” money that makes all his problems disappear. He should hate it…but he doesn’t.

If anything, he revels in it. He revels in them. It’s the role they fulfill that makes them so special to him, why they are his favorite player. Dare he say, he likes the opposition they bring. It contrasts nicely with the yes men he is surrounded with.

He swallowed thickly, voice cracking and a raspy whimper leaving his throat as a shaky smile pulled at his lips. “D’aww, C’mon now, you didn't mean all that hullabaloo earlier. You love us and we love you.” He maintained his mask, getting back into his collected and cool persona. He wriggled his hands free, slipping them away to instead drape over (Y/N)’s shoulders. A shit-eating grin pulled at his lips as he toyed and played with the hairs at the end of their neck.

“It was just a small slip up, nothing to get all bent out of shape over. It won’t happen again.” His gaze darted down towards their lips. He darted his eyes away as soon as they landed there. “What was it you wanted? Respect? Fiine, I respect ya’. You’re my equal.”

He pulled them forwards, holding his breath at the way they looked, lurched over the table with their hands on either side of him for stability. His grin widened as he saw their expression falter and their head turning to look away. The good ol’ sweet talk never fails.

“I’m sorry for lashing out but y’know I can’t be without my favorite player. Imagine how lonely and boring that would be for me.” His grin stretched wider.

(Y/N) swallowed thickly, their face burning hot. “Stop that.” They grumbled. “Don’t do this again…” They wanted to stay strong this time. They were drawing their line in the sand.

Bradley just continued, feigning innocence all the while. “Do what?? I’m just sitting here.” He hummed, rubbing the pad of his thumb along the nape of their neck. He melted at the soft warm skin, the feeling only toppled by the way (Y/N) stumbled, their hands now resting on his waist for stability. He felt a lump build up in his throat. “Careful there, friend. Getting too close for comfort.” His nails raked against the back of their neck. He seemed a lot more comfortable in this position than he was letting on.

“Shut up…” (Y/N) muttered, making the mistake of looking down at the man under them.

…Dammit, there was no reason that he had to look so good. This was about humbling him and putting their foot down, not about—Whatever he was trying to spin this into.

…Wait a minute.

A lightbulb sparked in their head…If they were even still thinking with their head at this point.

“Make me–” Bradley’s tease was the last thing they needed. In a matter of seconds they ahd given in and let the intrusive thoughts win, crashing their lips against his own.

Oh, wow. He was surprisingly soft.

The hands in their hair tensed and stiffened, an emasculated whine leaving his lips as his eyes shot open. His brain felt foggy, his temple throbbing with the pounding of his heart, adrenaline pushing through his veins and making him feel unable to stay still. He couldn’t help but squirm like the silly little guy he was underneath them…only for a flat palm to press against his abdomen pushing him back down on the table.

Oh, fuck, fuckfuckfuck–

“Mmh…” His eyes fluttered short, him melting underneath the warm, firm body. His hands tightened their grip, clinging onto their hair for dear life before trailing down to grasp at the sides of their face. He pushed forwards, breaking through the barrier and slipping his tongue in their mouth. A humiliating, breathless groan left his lips. God, it was so warm. They were so warm. He needed them. He didn’t care how messy, sloppy, or desperate he probably looked and acted like right now.

He broke away from the kiss, only a hair's breadth away from their lips, his breath fanning over their skin with his brow caked in sweat and his eyes half lidded, heavy with need.

His hands fell down once more, nails raking down their back as he took a minute, breathing heavy and ragged as he had to strain himself to collect all his thoughts into a garbled sentence.

“C’mon…I-If yer’ gonna do it, just get it over with. Y’know you’re my favorite player, right? C’mon, please—“

Bingo. (Y/N) couldn’t help but let their lips stretch out into an uncontrollably broad grin. They took much pleasure in pulling away from him, savoring the weak plaintive cry that left him and how he lurched forwards as if his lips were chasing theirs.

They stepped back, their chest feeling tight and their heart claustrophobic as they saw him sprawled out on the pool table, hands clasping on either side of himself, nails digging into the thin red fabric. His hair was mussied, sweat dripped from his face with his shirt loosened and falling down. They almost gave in right there.

“On second thought…maybe another time.”

Though, seeing that helpless look on his face mixed with sexual frustration and a very offended look was almost just as sweet. It was a small win but a win nonetheless.

…

“I…” Bradley heaved out. “God, I hate them..”

[taragreenfield]

the reason i cannot excuse the darkling’s crimes is because he has no loyalty to his people. sure, everything he did was to create a better, safer world for grisha, and he did a lot of good things for them, but how many grisha did he kill because they didn’t agree with his methods? how many innocent children did he sacrifice because they were pawns in his plan? how many otkazat’sya that also wanted a better world for grisha did he kill or try to kill because, at the end of the day, his goals were not to make the world safer for grisha, it was to make a world where grisha were the rulers of society and everyone else was left to suffer

Hi, anon. I've seen that post. The author also mentioned they haven't read the trilogy, and yeah, that shows.

Saying the Darkling had no loyalty to his people is straight up laughable. I mean, you can call him ruthless, or cruel, or manipulative (if you squint and believe the author's words), or call his methods controversial, but disloyal to his people? The man who swore to protect his people when he was a child and never swayed from this goal? The man who built the Little Palace and gave Grisha from all around the world a (relatively) safe space? He could have built a mansion for himself and never worried about anything else. Or, alternatively, he could have seized the power centuries ago and simply killed anyone who opposed his rule. He certainly had enough power for that.

In the beginning, he's actually shown as a good leader. He eats sitting on the ground with his soldiers, from the same pot, he trusts his men and doesn't want them to take unnecessary risks. He has a fairly trusting relationship with Genya, Ivan thinks highly of him. After Alina takes over the Second Army, most Grisha are said to have joined the Darkling. You'd think they would breathe a sigh of relief if their despotic commander who punished them for the slightest disagreement was gone, but no, they up and go to look for him and join his side. Weird. Yes, he kills traitors. But who doesn't? It's war, they are soldiers who committed treason. Did Alina's team not kill Grisha who joined the Darkling?

Later, when he briefly takes the throne, he could have been shown as a bloodthirsty tyrant who viciously exploits Grisha and kills otkazats'ya for fun, but for some reason he isn't? All he does is sign some paperwork. We are literally not given a reason to believe that his rule is all that bad. Definitely not worse than the Lantsovs' (or aggressive, self-important moron Zoya, who uses slurs for Corporalki, bullies her subordinates and jumps at people like a rabid chihuahua). Neither is he shown as being a grisha supremacist. I mean, he even his trusted people, Oprichniki, are all otkazats'ya. There is literally no evidence besides Baghra's senile mumbling and Alina's biased assumptions.

Innocent children sacrificed as pawns? There are no such cases. He didn't kill children at the orphanage. If you are talking about young soldiers, well, at that time period and considering the political situation, everyone used them. The First Army recruited Alina and Mal when they were...15-16? The Apparat recruited kids as young as 12 to their creepy cult. Zoya sends 16-year-old Nina on a dangerous mission to Fjerda.

If you want to find those who had no loyalty to their people, Baghra is right here. Despite having an immense power, she never lifted a finger to help anyone but herself. Alina is right here. She deserted twice, she sided with the very same monarchy that's been oppressing her people for centuries, she killed plenty of Grisha who didn't side with her, and in the end she happily fucked off to her orphanage despite the fact Grisha became even more oppressed than before. Ironically, Aleksander was the only one who cared for Grisha and was actually willing to do something about that.

[internetgiraffekid1673]

Sometimes I forget my parents aren't as entrenched in the queer community as I am.

They try, they really do! My mom is a librarian who is constantly reading queer literature and working to set up queer events, and my dad is addicted to reading articles and going to other communities so he can just listen to other people talk and tell their stories, including/especially queer people.

But that's still a big difference between me, who is chronically online and now has more queer friends than cishet ones through the internet, and my parents who interact with a maximum of two queer people on a day to day basis (me and my mom's coworker). Both of those queer people are aroace, so it's not like we have partners to talk about, and it just doesn't generally come up in day-to-day conversation with them.

They're super accepting and they work so hard to understand, so it shocks me whenever I remember they've still got a lot to learn (and so do I, I'm far from the ultimate authority).

Like today for example! My mom has expressed to me before that she doesn't really understand how people can be polyamorous because jealousy is a flaw of hers and she doesn't like to share, so the poly community is a bit of a blind spot for her (ironic considering it overlaps with the aro/ace communities a lot).

Today, we were talking about how animals have more complex emotions and relationships than a lot of us assume, and my mom brought up birds that mate for life as an example.

I mentioned that quite a few birds who mate for life actually have lots of different sexual partners from season to season, and it's their NESTING mate who's permanent. It provides them with the genetic diversity and increased chance of offspring that many partners provides, but also the security and sharing of labor from permanent partnership.

She said "Yeah, imagine if humans were like that! But we just have too many emotions around our partners for that."

And I said something to the effect of "Plenty of humans are like that! Open relationships and polyamory are a thing for a reason."

And she went "Yeah, but to be intimate like that makes you too emotional and possesive to do things like the birds do," and my dad and I were both like. "No? Actually? For a lot of people, sex is just sex. Even straight people. There's no feelings for their sexual partner behind it."

And she kinda went "huh. . ." And you could see her reprocessing and realigning all that. She finally said, "yeah I guess that's just hard for me to get because I could never be like that, but ok yeah."

It's just one of those moments where you remember your parents are people and they still have things to learn and sometimes you do know more than your parents. It makes me wonder what other queer stuff I forget to tell them about.

(First thing that comes to mind is the less common aspec varieties like aplatonicism or loveless individuals, but now I'm realizing polyamory is a huge gap for them, and I'm sure there's lots of stuff I'm missing).

[i-love-genya-sm]

I've got another idea! Could you do a Genya x gn reader, (kimetsu academy),reader is staying at the shinazugawas home helping Genya study for a upcoming test and it starts raining so reader decides to spend the night.

I'll leave the rest to you! Happy writings!!

I’ve always pictured these kinds of situations 🥺 (thank you for giving me an excuse and the proper motivation to write this)

◊ Pairing: Genya x gn!Reader ◊ Category: fluff. I really like writing fluff…should i do angst next? ◊ AU: Kimetsu Gakuen!/Kimetsu Academy READER INFO • PLEASE READ Reader is gn Reader and Genya are not yet in a relationship, but they are study buddies Genya has a crush on you, but is too shy to admit Everyone knows he likes you

The school day had just ended. You were packing up, ready to leave for home, when Genya approached you. “Hey, (Y/N)?” You stopped packing to look at your study buddy. “What’s up?” “Could you help me study for the math test tomorrow?” You smile. “Of course! I’ll be by your house at 4:00.” Genya’s face lit up. “Thank you!” 𖥸┈┈┈𖥸┈┈┈𖥸┈┈┈𖥸 «◊» 𖥸┈┈┈𖥸┈┈┈𖥸┈┈┈𖥸 You knocked on the door to the Shinazugawa family’s home. You heard running footsteps and a small boy opened the door. His eyes widened as he recognized you. You recognized this one as Hiroshi, one of Genya’s younger brothers. “Are you (Y/N)-san?” Hiroshi asked. “Yes. I believe your Onii-san told you I’d be coming?” You respond, a loving smile on your face. “Oh! He did!” Hiroshi gasped and turned behind him. “Onii-san! (Y/N)-san’s here!” You head a commotion from inside the house. “I’m coming! Tell them I’m coming!” “Onii-san’s coming.” Hiroshi innocently relayed the information to you. You chuckle. “Thanks,” You say. Genya appeared behind Hiroshi, trying to catch his breath. “Ok, Hiroshi, go play with your other siblings,” Genya gently urged his younger brother towards Sanemi, who was keeping the other Shinazugawa siblings entertained. “Okie!” Hiroshi excitedly skipped off in the direction of the happy family. You smile at the sight of their wholesome play. Genya turns to you. “Thanks for coming, (Y/N),” “It’s the least I can do,” you reply. Genya invites you inside, leading you to where he normally studies, in his room. You’ve been in there before, helping Genya study for a countless tests, and he’s also had his fair share of visiting yours. It was just as messy as you remember. When you walk inside, Genya utters an apology and tries to tidy up the best he can. You chuckle at Genya’s attempts. “It’s fine as it is. I’ve been here before.” Genya froze. “Y-you sure?” He asks, uncertainty in his voice. “Of course I’m sure.” You give him a reassuring smile. “Now, get your textbook, notebook, and plenty of pencils. Actually, double all of those.” Genya nodded, but hesitated. “What do you need all the extra books and pencils for?” “In case we get frustrated and need to vent our rage on something.” You pause. “Your brother won’t mind, right?” Worry could be seen on your face. Genya laughs to himself. “Nah, he won’t mind. He loves letting off steam on his books so he won’t lash out too much on us.” You sigh. “Good.” Another pause. “Wait, he what?!” 𖥸┈┈┈𖥸┈┈┈𖥸┈┈┈𖥸 «◊» 𖥸┈┈┈𖥸┈┈┈𖥸┈┈┈𖥸 “You got that?” It’s been almost 5 straight hours of studying, and you and Genya are practically drained from the mountains of information you had to get stuck in your brain. “Yeah, I got that.” Genya suppresses a yawn. You shake your head in an attempt to wake up. You look at the time. “Oh! It’s late. I should probably be going…” You stand up, helping Genya organize all his books, and putting all the ones that were either thrown or had pages ripped out form your fits of rage into a little discard pile in the corner of the room that was steadily getting bigger. “(Y/N)?” Genya asked. You turn around with a hm? “What is it?” Genya was looking out the window. “It’s raining out. And it dosen’t look like it’s gonna let up anytime soon.” He winces at the sound of thunder. “It’s probably a storm.” “Oh! Well…” Your brow furrows, thinking. You gasp suddenly. You had an idea. “Since it’s too dangerous to be out right now, I guess I’ll stay for one night on an impromptu sleepover, if that’s all right with you.” Genya’s eyes widen. “You sure?” “Just one night. That’s all!” You smile sweetly at him. “Or at least until the storm’s over…?” Your smile dissolves, replaced with a furrowed brow and a small frown. “N-no! Stay as long as you need to,” Genya held his hands out in front of him in refuse. “Thanks, Genya.” You relax, relief spread across your features. Genya blushes. “O-oh, uh…it’s nothing, really…”

Later, when it’s time for bed, you watch as Genya fell asleep and you smile. You tried to fall asleep yourself but found that it was hard to with the loud storm outside. “Genya? Hey, Genya?” You whisper, then hear a groan from the comfy lump on the bed “What?” “I know I might sound like a baby but…the storm scares me.” “Oh. Not a bit fan of them?” You shook your head. Genya sighs and shifts in his bed, leaving enough room for you to crawl in. “C’mon,” he urges you. “But—” “No ‘buts.’ You wanna get sleep or nah?” You think for a minute before crawling under the covers, unconsciously cuddling really close to Genya’s warm, large body. He gasps suddenly. “You’re…close…a-and cuddly…” he stammers, and you chuckle at how cute it is. “You’re warm and comforting.” You say, and you see Genya’s face redden. You smile softly before giving in to sleep, Genya’s arms wrapped around your body. The night was peaceful, and both you and Genya knew you didn’t want the night to end

Oh. My. Gosh. This took so long, but I’m so glad I could finish it and get it out to y’all! Tysm 4 reading, and if you enjoy this kind of Genya x Reader content, follow me to get MORRREEE! Have a great day/night!

[tribalauthor]

THE WISEWOMAN (roman reigns ff) <chapter 18>

word count: 2.7K

A/N: the concept of this chapter is 'closure' and being open to the new beginnings that life is offering you

Sophia's POV

The soft hubbub of people talking was actually in a way comforting to me, adding the bright botanical atmosphere of La Grande Boucherie that offers a luxurious feeling also mixed with a sprinkle of nostalgia due to the fact that I am gathered on a baptism party for the kid of my high school's close friend - Amelia.

She has always been a fan of big parties ever since we were teenagers. I remember I was forced to go to all of her parties because I used to be her BFF, although I wasn't the biggest fan of those things back then.

Since she was the most popular girl in high school, she got the most popular jock then - Tommy Devito who is now an NFL quarterback of the New York Giants. No surprise here.

The high school sweethearts couple now just had their little baby boy, Michael.

I see plenty of classmates who are with kids in their arms, others are pregnant and I am in a pure state of shock that I, of course, try to hide.

I am also seated next to my first boyfriend ever - Trevor Williams. I mean for six years since I last saw him, he looks more masculine with a beard - very short beard but still giving him a different touch, his hair slightly slicked back and slightly longer than I remember and his blue-grey eyes which once I was longing for.

Yup, I kinda see why I liked him so much back in the day...but it wasn't enough to last.

"I actually didn't believe you could get any prettier, Sophia." he finally spoke to me which caused me to turn to him and giving him a grin. From what I know he is a literature teacher now.

"Here I am." I sang. I am wearing a green long sleeve floral shirt with white long skirt. Accidentally matching the vibe of the restaurant.

Trevor took my hand and kissed it. He is still the gentleman that I remember.

"Careful, dude. Her boyfriend is a wrestler." I heard Tommy saying.

"A wrestler?" my ex-boyfriend looked in disbelief.

"Not just any wrestler but the Tribal Chief himself." Bob added and I laughed quietly, pressing my lips.

"I am still in pure shock from that fact. Who would have thought that Sophia Heyman that rejected all of the boys of the football team would end up with an athlete." Nancy said. She used to be the head of the cheerleaders club and now she is pregnant, very pregnant.

I saw Trevor pulled out his phone, probably he wants to see what my current boyfriend looks like and when I saw his appalled expression, I knew that is the case.

"Sophia." he said in disbelief and I just slowly shrugged in defense. "Ain't this man too old for you?"

My expression suddenly changed to a serious one and I am sure the people are tuned in for the drama.

"No, he isn't. As a matter of fact, for the few weeks we've been dating he gave me way more than any of my exes combined gave me for the whole relationship. And I don't mean only in a materialistic way." I underlined the last part, so that everyone is aware what I'm trying to imply right here.

The women put hands behind their mouths, and men were taken aback.

"So you are happy?" Trevor asked with a straight face.

"Yes. Very happy. I love my job, I adore my boyfriend and I get along with my colleagues perfectly." all of this time I am responding with pure calmness.

"That Vegas press conference was scandalous, by the way. Are we getting Roman vs Rock or?" another classmate asked.

"Don't expect me to leak anything, gentlemen. Tune in for the shows and you are going to see." I teased them.

I was outside for a little walk and Trevor decided to join me.

"Look, I am sorry for the way I snapped earlier...it's just...I don't know what was going through my head. Maybe cause the guy is way more different than me. My complete opposite, actually, and yeah." Trevor said what was on his mind and there was remorse in his voice mixed with nervousness.

"It's okay. I understand but you also have to understand is that he makes me happy." I responded.

"I trust you, yes." he nodded his head.

"What about you? Do you have a girlfriend or a student's mom on the side?" I joked around and he laughed out loud.

"I recently ended another relationship. She is a law student." he added.

"Oh law students ain't it. I also had a relationship with one before Joe. Nope. Never again." I declared and shook my head.

"The thing is, Sophia, that every woman I like...I look for you in her." my eyes almost went out of my body. What am I hearing? "See, what we had in high school was not like the typical high school relationship. You were mature, I was mature. Maybe not as much as you but it was not a childish relationship. And I think we could have the potential to end like Amelia and Tommy.

"Interesting point of view." I remarked, sounding as calm as usual but deep down I am out of words cause why is he telling me all of this now?

"How did it really end between us two?" he couldn't help but ask.

"Well, we had to graduate and I remember you wanted to study in Harvard. You weren't sure if it's gonna work from distance and of course, I had the same opinion and yeah." I said what I remembered. We really didn't end in bad terms. He is right that for a high school "love" our relationship was mature.

Turns out he likes me more than I like him and yeah, I know this is how it works but I don't think I could like him the same amount I like Joe.

Yes, I thought Trevor was the right guy for me but as I said it before, I have always thought with my brain and even if I stayed with him until today, I am not sure if he could give me the same - and again, I don't mean only the material and sexual part.

Joe really makes me feel like a woman - as the phrase is divine feminine. My whole life I have been competing with men, in college, in high school because I always had something to prove.

"You may not realize it but we were secretely competing with each other back then, Trevor. We both wanted the highest grades, we both wanted to be the top of our class. These years made me realize that academic guys are not the ones for me. I felt like a rival, sometimes like an object but right now I feel like a woman." I told him the sole truth without a single care. "I am sure you are going to find your woman somewhere. You are a nice guy and you always have been. So I wish you all the best."

Roman's POV

After I finished my workout, I went to take a shower and wash that sweat off my body. This week I started new workout program with my trainer since I gotta get in serious shape for Wrestlemania and also because I have a very hot girlfriend.

I gotta look my best.

The moment I turned on the shower, a brown ass water came down and I pulled myself out immediately.

"What" I exclaimed quietly.

Is the water system fucked up or something? I checked the other sinks and showers and it's the same thing.

This means I gotta call the plumbing company.

The second I grabbed the phone, it suddenly rang and the name of the person I saw on the screen was the least that I expected.

It's Michelle.

Why is she calling? At 5pm.

It must be something urgent, so I decided to pick up.

"Hello?" I responded unbothered.

"Hi, Joe. It's Michelle." she said with her soothing rather cold voice.

"I know. Hi." I replied back.

"Are you experiencing some plumbing problems?" she asked with slight nervousness.

"Yes. Actually I was about to call the plumbing company of the house."

"There is no point cause the plumbing company that worked with ours, was sued for damaging a lot of house systems. They were caught in using cheap products and now many, many new houses have the same problem."

"I see and what can I do now to fix it?" I asked.

"Don't worry about that. We are going to send you a team after two days." she said in a reassuring tone but I felt my body tensing.

"Two days? How am I supposed to shower until then?" I raised my voice.

"Well, you are rich enough to go to a hotel. Also your new girlfriend can shelter you. Don't act like you don't have any options." Michelle sounded rather sassy and I laughed quietly.

"Oh, so you know about that?" I asked.

"Of course. You two are all over the media. Congratulations, by the way. Hope she is the one for you." she said with sincerity.

"Thank you." I replied softly. "I hope you feel happy and fulfilled and find your person too." I nodded my head and spoke back with the same sincerity.

"Thanks. But right now I gotta focus on the job and fix those poor houses." Michelle giggled slightly. "I had to call you because, you know, after everything I love this house to death."

"Although you haven't stepped a foot in it." I said in a teasing tone. We got divorced exactly by the time the house was ready, so she didn't really see the final product.

"That's not important. I poured my everything to make it look good. Does the new girlfriend like it?"

"Sophia loves it. She commented a couple of times how much she loves the interior and she even complimented my good taste but I told her the truth." I said with a big grin on my face.

"You had the opportunity to make yourself cooler and lie, though." she remarked.

"Nah, she thinks I'm cool enough. No need to lie to impress her."

"True. You are the ultimate heartthrob now." my ex wife laughed softly.

Sophia's POV

Trevor suggested to drop me off at my house and I agreed.

On the way home my phone rang and it's my boyfriend.

"Hey, Joe." I picked up.

"Hey. How is my girl doing? Is the party over?" he asked me.

"Yes, I am heading home right now." I replied.

"With who?" he immediately asked.

"A classmate is dropping me off. Did you finish your workout?" no need to specify that this classmate is my ex-boyfriend.

"Yes and I got a problem with the plumbing system and can't take a shower. The plumbers are gonna come after two days." he explained.

"Well, you can grab your things and come to my house then." I came up with the obvious solution.

"Nah. I would feel kinda uncomfortable and I don't wanna bother your mom." he said. "I think I'll just rent a hotel."

"My mom doesn't care, sweetie." I said in awe. "Plus these two days she is extremely busy. I don't even know if she will come home."

"You got a gym around?"

"Of course." I said.

"Okay, guess I'm gonna pack my things then. See ya, babe." he said warmly.

"See ya." I replied sweetly and we hung up.

"Big boy got problems?" Trevor couldn't help but ask.

"Yeah, plumbing system is off."

"Where is he taking you for your birthday?"

"I don't know. He loves to surprise me." I replied excitingly.

"He may plan something big. You deserve everything." my ex-boyfriend stated. "I remember that I planned a double present since it's your birthday and Valentine's day." he did a reminiscent.

"Yeah. That cute poem you wrote to me plus the handmade rose bouquet. Are you still doing arts and crafts?" I asked.

"Rarely. I don't got the time. I like to enrich myself with books."

"Well, it was nice catching up with you, Soph." Trevor said as he stopped in front of my house.

"Ditto." I replied.

"Am I invited to a WWE show?" he teased me and I chuckled.

"You can always buy a ticket." I said. "Or you can watch from home. Smackdown every Friday night at 8pm." I said in advertising tone.

"Okay. Will make sure to watch." he assured me and we said one last goodbye.

While I was waiting for Joe, I decided to cook something healthy for dinner.

One of the greatest pros of dating an athlete is that they mostly eat very healthy and you don't need cooking skills to impress them.

They would literally eat anything as long as it has protein. No questions asked.

So right now, I am dressed with a sexy beige nightgown while I'm preparing a chicken and sweet potato bowl, mixed with avocado and cottage cheese.

Beforehand, of course I took a shower and did a long bodycare and skincare routine since I have to look good. I don't know what we might be doing.

It's been two days...not even two full days since we've seen each other and I think I might go crazy. See, now I get the lovey-dovey cringe sayings.

I miss his touch already.

I don't know what Joe is preparing for my birthday and Valentine's but I am also preparing him a little something.

A cute symbolic gift and I hope the crew I spoke with does it till Tuesday.

Cross my fingers.

I also intend, depending on how impressed I am and I'm sure I will be, to give all of myself to him. I think it's time and I actually feel ready.

I heard the doorbell ringing and just on time cuz dinner is ready.

I walked to the door with my black toestep heels clinking on the oak floor then I opened it.

Joe was sitting there, looking exactly like post-workout. His Nike suitcase on his one hand, his hair in a bun and his grey Nike uncle tracksuit, I call it.

When he saw me his mouth dropped.

"What a greeting." he looked at me from head to toe.

"Get your ass here and kiss me." I pulled him by the sweater and closed the door behind me.

[bachissidehoe]

lovely

chapter 10 of it's classy, not classic [bachisagi]

“One week!” Bachira barges into Isagi’s apartment, no different from how he usually does it.

Isagi stands in front of him, his eyes shifting back and forth, wondering how Bachira continues to remain unfazed by everything that’s happened between them in the past couple days. He shouldn’t be so confused, Bachira is always like this. His dream of playing soccer was ruined and he stopped wallowing and turned it into something new- Isagi would never be that resilient. 

“One week,” Isagi says with a breath, sounding much less excited than Bachira is. “Until you leave.” He finishes. Yeah, he’s definitely not excited about it. 

This one week they have together marks one week left of their fake relationship. Bachira will move back with his mother, out of Tokyo, and away from Isagi. Potentially forever. One week and this will all be over. 

Isagi’s been thinking about it for the past couple days since the art symposium, and he’s come to the conclusion that he doesn’t even think he’s gay or straight. Perhaps he’s Bachira-sexual. When Bachira leaves and Isagi makes the crushing announcement that their relationship has ended, he doesn’t think he’ll ever want anyone else. 

But he’s already been too selfish. 

“Exactly.” Bachira grins, taking Isagi’s hand in his. 

Just the slight touch makes a blush creep across Isagi’s cheeks. It’s not subtle either, because the grin on Bachira’s face only gets bigger. 

“One week for me to do everything I’ve wanted to do with you.” Bachira pulls his bottom lip between his teeth, almost like he wants to pretend like he shouldn’t have said that. 

Isagi gulps. “That’s- true.” 

Bachira’s hands go from Isagi’s wrists to his shoulders, guiding him to the middle of his couch. Isagi messily sits down, now having to look up at a standing Bachira Meguru. 

“You know how fantastic this is?” Bachira leans forward, his hands resting on the back of the couch on either side of Isagi. He’s very close. It always feels like this, so sudden, yet so right, the way those feelings rocket through Isagi’s body and take up every single neuron in his brain. 

“What do you mean?” Isagi rushes through his sentence, saying it almost in a whisper. He doesn’t have to speak much louder than that, his breath is already dancing over Bachira’s pretty lips. 

“You wanna keep doing stuff with me, don’t you?” Bachira asks, though he already knows the answer. It may as well be written across his damn forehead in sharpie marker in big black letters: “PLEASE FUCK ME BACHIRA MEGURU”.

“Well, yeah.” Isagi breathes. 

“We had those few kisses, and then I sucked you off in a dark room, but we have plenty more to do.” Bachira fully stands up, releasing Isagi from the erotic prison he created on Isagi’s own couch. 

Isagi lets out a breath. “Why are you saying it like it’s an assignment?” Isagi mumbles. 

Bachira giggles, then pauses. He turns around, facing Isagi with a gorgeous, genuine smile. “I guess I’m just excited.”

Isagi’s not sure if he’s ever felt this exact feeling before, but he feels like his eyes just turned into glitter and the world around him turned into a sea of butterflies and rainbows circling around Bachira. The only thing he can think at the moment is: “ohmygodhessocuteohhessocuteplease”. 

“You seem pretty excited too, after being pinned to your couch.” Bachira winks, taking a quick glance at Isagi’s crotch area.

Isagi reddens, quickly pulling a throw pillow onto his lap. 

But Bachira’s right, he did like that. He liked getting pushed into the door too. He liked being tossed around a little. 

“I always had a feeling you were more on the submissive side.” Bachira sticks his tongue out. 

“Huh? No way!” Isagi argues. “I was the one who told you to get on your knees, remember that?” He huffs.

“Hm, after I told you to tell me what you want.” 

“But- you were saying that because you needed my direction! You’re the submissive one.” Isagi scrunches his nose. 

“I was being a service top.” Bachira giggles. “By the way, you look so cute when you’re arguing with me about who tops.” 

Isagi squeezes the pillow harder into his lap. Truly, Bachira’s words are enough. “What’s even a service top anyway?” He mumbles, knowing he’s already defeated. The submissive one is the one who gets flustered, the dominant one is the one who does the flustering. 

“Like the opposite of a power bottom. Still in charge, but giving you what you want.” 

“So like…” Isagi breathes. He’s getting quite heavy down there. “The one that puts it in is always the top, right?” Isagi can’t even make eye contact, he’ll probably pass out if he watches Bachira’s lips curl up into that cute little smirk. 

“Not always.” Bachira answers honestly. “But generally, yeah.” 

“But weren’t you-” Isagi takes another breath. “A bottom? Um, before?” 

“Sure, in that relationship.” 

“Then why are you insisting on topping me?”

“Because look at you!” Bachira approaches Isagi again, standing with his legs trapping Isagi’s. He reaches out, lifting his chin with his pointer finger. “You deserve to be topped.” 

Isagi lets out a nervous breath, though it comes out as more of a light whine. He’s absolutely the submissive one. 

Bachira leans in, holding his lips just a few centimeters away from Isagi’s. With a smirk threatening to appear across those perfect, pink lips, he refuses to close the gap. Instead, Bachira prefers to watch Isagi fall apart, to watch his eyes flutter closed with the anticipation of that gap being smothered shut, to watch him push his own head slightly forward, hoping that Bachira will meet him there. Bachira loves watching Isagi open his pleading eyes, only to be met with Bachira’s bottom lip caught between his teeth and zero intention to kiss him. 

“You want me so bad.” Bachira whispers. 

It’s unfair to be in this position, Isagi believes that. He’s frustrated, even embarrassed. And yet, he still finds himself shifting, thanking the throw pillow for concealing his painfully hard erection. He considers simply lurching forward and taking it from him, but in his submissive state, he just can’t bring himself to do it. 

“Yeah.” Isagi admits with a single breath, his eyes half lidded and dark with lust. It’s amazing how Bachira can have this effect with only a single movement, one that doesn’t even result in a simple touch. 

“You like being teased.” Bachira observes. 

As usual, there’s nothing Isagi can hide from the insightful Bachira Meguru. 

“I don't know if I like it.” Isagi grumbles. “But I guess my body does.” 

Bachira reaches down, lacing his fingers into the collar of Isagi’s shirt. The number one soccer player in the world, someone who can go up against any player and win by a landslide, is squashed under the thumb of Bachira Meguru. 

“Megu-” Isagi protests, watching Bachira lean in for what’s likely another tease. Isagi’s heart pounds against the walls of his chest, and once again that hot breath sends him into an erotic hypnosis. “I have to kiss you, sorry, I have to~” 

Isagi uses his own hands, forcing Bachira forward until he loses his balance, falling into Isagi’s lap. The gap closes, finally indulging the striker in a long-awaited kiss. 

Isagi holds onto Bachira for dear life, quickly lacing his fingers in his hair to keep him from pulling away. He’s unapologetically desperate, sloppily licking at his glistening lips. And those noises Bachira makes, those perfect little breaths, they slide over Isagi’s body like a blanket. In no time Bachira figures out his mechanism for control, sliding over top of Isagi and forcing him on his back, never once breaking their kiss. 

There’s the switch that flips when Isagi’s on the field, the one that turns him into a force to be reckoned with, something so different from his normal, kind personality. Isagi expected that a similar switch would flip when in a situation like this, turning him into a dominant lover with a fiery passion. Instead, the switch that flips is a new kind of switch. 

“I need to~” Isagi moans, tugging Bachira’s bottom lip between his teeth. “I need to make you feel good.” He almost whines it. The desperation in his voice is obvious, he’s not attempting to hide those feelings of submission. 

The fire and passion still exist when this switch is flipped, that much is clear, but this is focused on a deep desire to please someone else. Any strong passion Isagi has ever felt has existed for himself only, his need to score goals, to be the best, to take down every opponent that stands in his way. But this one is so much different. 

“That’s good, I was going to ask you to.” Bachira chuckles, pulling his head against Isagi’s tight grip on his messy locks of two-toned hair. “Fuck, I love when you pull my hair.” 

So Isagi pulls it harder, forcing Bachira’s exposed neck toward his lips. Every little inch of Bachira’s skin should be kissed, Isagi believes that with every fiber of his being. Nipping and sucking pretty purple marks into the sensitive skin of his neck isn’t enough. Every inch of him should be covered in hickeys, drooled on, worshiped. 

“People are gonna see that, you know~” Bachira taunts, his eyes snapped shut as Isagi tugs at his shirt with his teeth. 

“They should.” Isagi growls, looking at him with pleading eyes and his shirt caught between his teeth. He looks like a puppy. “Let them know you’re mine.” 

“I wanna feel good, Yoichi~.” Bachira switches gears, sitting up to force his shirt over his head, tossing it carelessly to the side. He smirks, grabbing Isagi by the collar and forcing him upright. 

He reaches for the hem of his shirt, holding eye contact with Isagi as he pulls his shirt over his head, the touch of Bachira’s fingers against his bare skin sending a shiver down Isagi’s spine. Isagi doesn’t miss the shirt, not when Bachira looks him up and down wearing that signature smirk of his, his tongue poking between his sharp teeth. 

“I want you to feel good.” Isagi lurches forward, eager to continue tangling their lips together, potentially until the end of time. 

“Ah-“ Bachira stops him, pressing his hand to Isagi’s bare chest. “Get on your knees.” He directs. “It’s your turn this time.”

Isagi obeys, he has no reason not to. This desire to please Bachira well surpasses his desire to be viewed as dominant. He’d bark for Bachira if he asked.

Bachira slides his bottoms down his perfect thighs, calmly sitting on the couch with his legs on either side of Isagi’s frame. And all Isagi can do is stare, watch as Bachira’s thick cock springs upward, slapping against his stomach, twitching and pulsing with every movement. His tip is plump and eager, a bead of precum situated just inside the slight divot of his hole. And it’s so thick, and long. 

“You’re-“ Isagi gulps, his jaw slacked as he tries to imagine fitting even half of that thing in his little virgin mouth. 

“Go on.” Bachira leans back, resting his arms calmly on the back of the couch, proudly showing off his big dick. 

“So pretty.” Isagi leans down, placing a kiss to his tip. He never thought of describing a dick as pretty before, but Bachira’s somehow fits that description perfectly. “And really fucking big.” He breathes. 

“Don’t worry, you don’t have to fit the whole thing.” Bachira chuckles. “I like a hand on the bottom and a lot of tongue work on the top.” He explains, reaching down to caress Isagi’s face with the back of his hand, almost tauntingly. 

“Okay.” Isagi slowly wraps his fingers around his shaft, reveling in the feeling of a cock in his hand that isn’t his own. It doesn’t feel weird at all, not like he thought it would. It feels- powerful. 

“That’s it~” Bachira sighs, his fingers already lacing themselves in Isagi’s hair, kindly holding his long black bangs away from his face. 

Isagi’s confidence is at an all time high despite this being his first time doing anything like this. When Bachira lets out those little gasps and praises, Isagi can only get more excited, his own cock seated heavy in his boxers, twitching at the thought of pleasuring Bachira like this. 

He swirls his tongue around the tip, recalling what he liked when Bachira did it to him. He replicates motions he assumes would feel good, hollowing out his cheeks to create suction on Bachira’s thick shaft. Every time Bachira makes a noise, Isagi makes a mental note, learning what he likes best in no time at all. All the while, he uses his hand, jerking the base into his mouth like he’s thrusting it into his own throat. 

Bachira’s thighs twitch and tense, squeezing Isagi’s shoulders. His head remains back against the couch, lazily rocking from side to side as he moans for more. 

“I could fuck your throat, make you choke-” Bachira rasps, his voice hoarse and tired. “Aren’t you worried?” He taunts. 

Isagi slides off his cock with a pop of his lips, forcing eye contact with the pretty boy on the couch. Isagi’s lips and chin glisten with his own drool and Bachira’s precum. He’s so messy, unapologetic about it too, with his wet tongue loosely hanging out of his mouth. 

“I don’t think I’d mind it much,” Isagi admits, suddenly taking interest in Bachira’s bare inner thighs. “But you’re really big, and my jaw needs a break.” 

He continues pumping his cock with his hand, spreading his drool over the entire pulsing shaft. But his mouth clamps onto Bachira’s inner thigh, his teeth sinking into the sensitive skin. 

“Ah~ fuck~” Bachira gasps, tugging harder on Isagi’s hair in response to the unexpected stimulation.

Isagi can’t help but moan as well, biting and sucking on the exposed skin until he’s sure those pretty thighs are covered in deep purple marks. Every tug on his hair and gasp that escapes from Bachira’s lips is a sign to keep going, to keep pouring everything into pleasing him. His thumb traces over the tip of his cock, forcing those milky clumps of white precum to squeeze through the small hole. 

“That’s- holy shit~” Bachira becomes more vocal with every bite, writhing under Isagi’s touch. “I’m getting- fuck I’m close~” Bachira forces his eyes open, weakly pulling Isagi’s mouth away from his sore thighs. “Need y’to swallow.” He’s much less dominant seeming now that he’s in this position, in fact, it looks like he’s the one begging now. 

This time it’s Isagi smirking, holding that eye contact as he takes the tip back into his mouth, sliding his wet lips down his shaft until Bachira spills his load, his jaw slacked and a string of curses and moans escaping with his thick stream. 

Isagi jumps back in surprise- he did not expect the volume of cum that rocketed down his throat. It surprised him enough to pull off Bachira’s shaft entirely, forcing some of the white substance to dribble out of Isagi’s mouth and down his chin. He swallows the rest, but he’s certainly surprised by the texture. It definitely doesn’t go down as easily as he expected it to. 

But god damn. He can’t help but love it, love the taste, the feeling of it all over his face, the fact that he made him do that. 

Bachira grabs his crumpled shirt and holds it to Isagi’s chin, wiping the drool and cum off his pretty face. “Holy shit.” He breathes with a light chuckle. “I didn’t expect to cum so fast.” 

Isagi tilts his head to the side, watching as Bachira examines the bites on his inner thigh, blooming a sea of beautiful bruises. He traces over them with his fingers. “Nobody’s ever done that before. I didn’t know I liked it so much. It got me close so fast.” 

“Oh, really?” Isagi wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, resisting the urge to pounce on top of Bachira and keep leaving little marks just like those pretty ones on his thighs. 

“Fuck. Yeah.” Bachira nods slowly, meeting Isagi’s sparkling blue eyes with his half lidded, post orgasmic gaze. “You’re good at all that.” 

Isagi only stares back, flushed and trying to maintain control over his own body. He sits on his knees, slowly moving to rest his head in Bachira’s lap, hoping that when he recovers he’ll still want to kiss him. 

“Well you deserve a treat after that, hm?” Bachira pets Isagi’s head, his hands still weak from cumming just seconds ago. 

“Really?” Isagi looks up with those puppy dog eyes, Bachira can’t help but want to squeeze him. The best striker in the world, wrapped around his finger. 

“I mean I wanna fuck you.” Bachira chuckles.

Isagi gulps. “I don’t know if that will fit-” He starts nervously. The thought is exciting of course, bent over his own couch with Bachira’s thick cock slamming into him, maybe he’d even jerk him a bit while he fucks him, that would be amazing. But truthfully, Isagi has no idea how feasible that is, and how painful it would be. He’s dazed just imagining it. 

“No way,” Bachira laughs. “Yoichi- you don’t start with a dick. I’ll rip you in half.”

Even that post-orgasm laugh is gorgeous, laced with a little rasp and a hint of tiredness. It makes Isagi want to force his tongue down his throat to coat it in his saliva, maybe that’ll help clear that rasp, or maybe Isagi just wants to keep kissing him. He’s still hard, after all, he hasn’t exactly calmed down like Bachira has after getting sucked off.

“You start with smaller toys.” Bachira explains. 

“Oh, gotcha.” Isagi buries his face into the couch, hoping to prevent Bachira from seeing the redness creep back across his cheeks. 

“And I brought some.” 

Isagi’s head perks up, meeting Bachira’s cute smile and scrunched up nose. 

“Do you want to try?” Bachira asks, standing up and grabbing his bag. “I bought a couple vibrators of different sizes-” He pulls out some still-wrapped dildos. “Figured I’ll work you up until you can take me.” He winks. 

“I-in a week?” Isagi stutters, unable to prevent himself from looking Bachira’s naked body up and down, paying special attention to the budding bruises on his neck and thighs. He looks so pretty like this, with remnants of Isagi all over him. 

“If it works out, it works out, if it doesn’t it doesn’t.” Bachira shrugs. He’s very easy going about this for such an intense person, but Isagi should expect nothing less. Bachira is overall the most kind and caring person he’s ever met, of course he’d be caring more about Isagi’s pleasure than his own. 

Isagi just nods. He’s nervous, but eager. Plus, his cock still pulses heavily in his boxers, he’d be willing to let Bachira do just about anything to get him off at this point. 

“Then to the bedroom we go!” He exclaims, skipping away. 

Isagi can only giggle, that’s just Bachira. Nothing phases him, and no matter what, he’s always his authentic self. Isagi can only hope he’s enough for him, or at least, that he’s been enough for him in the time they’ve spent together. Like Bachira said, they only have one week left. 

But he’ll make the most of it. Even if this is the last week they ever spend together. 

Within minutes, Isagi wishes he’d just swallowed his pride and told Bachira how he felt sooner. He should have told him right after that first kiss, if this was what he’d been missing out on. With his face shoved into his pillow and his ass in the air, taking repeated thrusts from the vibrating dildo. 

He whines and groans into the fluffy cotton of the pillowcase, hoping it swallows enough of the noise to make it sound normal rather than guttural declarations of pleasure. 

“That’s it, see? Not so bad, hm?” Bachira coaxes him through it, his hand wrapped around the base of the dildo, guiding it in and out of his tight little ass. 

Sure, it hurt a little at first, but the second it reached that spot, the pain completely washed away. And this is only the first size, Isagi can surely take more, he wants to take more. At this point, with his cock twitching and pulsing as it slides across the fabric of his bedsheets, he hopes it hurts a little. 

“Can take more- please~” Isagi begs, suddenly unbothered by the prospect of being a bottom. Right now, he’ll be whatever Bachira wants. He’ll be a dog, he’ll put on makeup and dress like a schoolgirl, he’ll-

“We can go up a size, I think.” Bachira speaks in a softer voice than normal, almost teasing in how calm and peaceful he sounds. “You have such a pretty hole.” He places a kiss to Isagi’s back. “So tight, I can’t wait to fuck you myself.” 

“Yeah- fuck.” Isagi whines. “Up a size, but I’m not gonna last.” He says honestly, his body nearly shaking from the feeling of his full balls begging to burst at any moment. 

Bachira takes the next size up, lathering it in a thick layer of lube before poking the tip at his entrance. 

Isagi mumbles into the pillow, trying once again not to be too loud. 

“Do you want it?” Bachira taunts, whispering in his ear, his hot breath sending shivers down Isagi’s spine. 

“Mhm~” Isagi moans. 

“Are you sure?” Bachira continues to tease, clearly back to his normal, devilish self. He loves watching Isagi squirm, knowing he has such an intense effect on him. 

“Please~” Isagi lifts his head up, whispering his plea. 

Bachira leans down further, holding the vibrating tip against Isagi’s ass. “I love it when you beg.” He says, slowly forcing it inside him. 

It doesn’t slide in easily, but Isagi’s okay with that. He loves when it hurts a little, sending painful shocks up through his body only makes his cock twitch harder. There’s something about that pain that makes Bachira excited too, those thrusts only get more forceful when Isagi whines out. 

“M-more-” Isagi chokes on his own breath. “More-more more~” He whines, his fingernails nearly ripping through the sheets as he stuffs his face into the pillow.

Bachira reaches under Isagi’s frame, gripping his desperate cock in his free hand while maintaining control over the vibrator. 

“Ah-!” Isagi gasps, instinctively grinding into Bachira’s hand as the vibrator makes contact with his sweet spot. 

He doesn’t even have time to warn Bachira before he releases, spurts of hot cum shooting into the blank canvas of the mattress, decorating it with creamy white strings. It’s the most intense orgasm he’s ever felt, with his ass squeezing tight around the vibrator and Bachira’s hand squeezing tightly around his cock. He feels lightheaded, breathless, desperate to hold onto the feeling. 

“Fuck-” Bachira reacts, slowing his hand, feeling Isagi’s cum drip down and ripple through between his fingers. 

Isagi can’t even hear himself as he rides out his high, his brain foggy with the feeling of ecstasy coursing through him. But Bachira can certainly hear him, whining and mewling like an animal in heat. If Isagi wasn’t so new to all of this- he’d flip him over and fuck him right now. But compared to the 3 inch vibrator that Isagi’s puckered hole is already so tightly wrapped around- Bachira would still rip him apart. 

Instead, he lays him down in the puddle of his own cum, slowly removing the vibrator and wiping him clean, softly kissing his chest, raking his fingers through Isagi’s messy hair. 

“Is that what I’ve missed?” Isagi speaks after what feels like ages of Bachira watching his chest sputter as it rises and falls. 

“Mhmmmm~” Bachira hums. “You’re awfully desperate.” 

“I feel so exhausted but I feel like I want more too.” Isagi grumbles. “I can’t believe you’re doing all this for me.” He says after another moment. The post orgasmic state fills him with a feeling of appreciation and sentiment, like he just wants to float on a sea of flowers. 

“This is for me too.” Bachira snickers. “We’ve got the whole week still.” He lays next to Isagi on the pillow, his hands behind his head, strategically lacing his thighs between Isagi’s. 

“Right.” Isagi says, his feeling of ecstasy suddenly being overcome with a feeling of sentiment, even disappointment. “The week.” 

They could lay there for ages, and maybe they should, but the world still moves forward. Isagi still has practice, Bachira still has meetings. They have to work, and eat, and sleep- though in this moment Isagi feels like Bachira’s presence counts as basic human needs. 

He shouldn’t tell him he loves him. 

He can’t tell him that. 

“I should shower.” Isagi says instead, finally finding the strength to sit up, looking over his shoulder at Bachira, dressed only in his boxers with his hair messily spread across the pillow he rests his head on. All those marks are forming into lovely purple bruises. It makes him look even more beautiful. 

“Okay.” Bachira smiles. A genuine one. 

And that’s enough. It has to be.

[brilliantorinsane]

At the same time, I completely understand how the womaniser label formed and stuck. It’s not just the constant romance plots, though that would go a long way through people half-remembering episodes, tuning into cable partway through, watching in the background while doing other things. If for some reason I wanted to do womaniser Kirk propaganda, the only thing stopping me from constructing a convincing gifset “proving” that he has a new fling for every three episodes is that I don’t know how to make gifsets.

But the other part is that Kirk is such a cipher when it comes to romance and attraction. He’s always staring intensely at the love interest of the week, and never ever voicing what it is he’s thinking and feeling. Without exception so far there has always been a non-romantic explanation for every short-term flirtation (not in his right mind, strategy, they’re making advances that he isn’t returning), while every confirmed relationship he’s had is framed as a doomed romance built on deep connection and investment (the woman he says he almost marred in Where No Man Has Gone Before, Ruth in Shore Leave, Areel in Court Martial). But you could easily project that while alternative explanations were present, he was also organically into every one of the potential love interests—after all he never said he was, but he never said he wasn’t either! And I have no doubt plenty of people do project as much.

Even characters project romantic and sexual involvement onto him in deeply ambiguous circumstances. In Mudd’s Women Eve seems to think Kirk would have wanted to be with her if it weren’t for his commitment to his ship, but does he? Maybe! I’d ask but he won’t tell me! He won’t even tell Bones how he felt about Lenore in Conscious of the King!! At the beginning of The Menagerie a woman is mentioned as having spoken of Kirk, and he asks quickly, “what did she say about me?” From the tenor and looks exchanged it’s clear everyone is thinking ‘they fucked and now it’s awkward,’ and I’d assume the same. Except in Dagger of the Mind (to name one of several relevant instances), they invited us to make the exact same assumption in a very similar way, only for the reveal to be that the awkwardness comes from the fact that Noel wanted to fuck and they didn’t. (Did Kirk want to? One guess how much he has to say on the topic!!!) Hell, come to think of it, do they even confirm Ruth as a past love interest or did I assume that? I could well be forgetting something but the episode is so vague about their relationship, and their only physical contact is a kiss on the cheek. It’s clear there is deep history and feeling between them—is it clear it was romantic history?

Honestly I love this about how they write Kirk. I love a character who’s a cypher, I love a character whose true self is almost impossible to disentangle fully from their public performance of selfhood, from the assumptions they allow (or even encourage) others to make. It’s so fun to tease out and puzzle through a character like that (and mayhaps I find it very very relatable). And then when romance and sexuality is a key nexus of that ambiguity, it makes the character such a playground for queer interpretations. Sure many a straight person has projected straightness onto Kirk, but you bet I’m slipping right on in to those same poignant silences to project my experience of asexuality onto him. Not that I think that’s the ““correct”” read—I could construct equally coherent and emotionally compelling reads of him as bi, gay, demi, aro, you name it. And I haven’t even started on the trans potentials. Going in I really didn’t expect Kirk to be a top-tier queer playground character, but hell yeah, that’s one of my favourite genders right there!!

[delaware-lemme-smash]

Hi sweetie! Rewatching the series has stirred ideas. 😁 Pretty please, SFW NSFW headcanons for Aizawa with a quirkless fem s/o. Although she has no quirk, she does have an amazing human talent. For example, maybe she composes amazing music, or she paints incredible paintings, maybe she has an incredible voice and sings, maybe she writes award-winning books. Whatever you choose for her talent, it’s something that she’s dedicated years of hard work (since childhood) to being the best, building a career, and she’s famous for her talent. Thank you! Sending lots of love & hugs! ❤️🤗

Hello, lovely! I still need to catch up on the new series, but my Aizawa simpery has been rumbling in the back of my head for a while now. I feel like this man is about to make a comeback in a big way.

Characters: Aizawa Shouta/Eraserhead

Contents: afab!reader, quirkless reader, mentions of quirkless discrimination, nsfw

Aizawa Shouta/Eraserhead

SFW

Of all the people least likely to judge someone for not having a Quirk, Aizawa Shouta is your man. Others, even with the best intentions, might have some lingering sense of pity that you don't have a special ability like the rest of the population. Or they might just not be able to deal with stupid comments other people make about their Quirkless partner.

Aizawa doesn't give a shit about you not having a Quirk or about what other people think. He doesn't consider his Quirk-having ass as superior to you in any way—the only advantage his Quirk gives him is to remove other people's, so he's not all that different from you, really.

Now, this talent of yours. The one you've been working on since childhood, the one you've poured hours of sweat, blood, and tears into and now have a thriving career in? That commands enormous respect from Shouta. He appreciates hard work in any form, but to gain such achievement in a skill you weren't born with, that you had to learn and grind and improve slowly, over time? Hell yeah.

That work ethic of yours is probably what drew him to you in the first place. People mischaracterise him as lazy, when he's just exhausted most of the time. When you consider his actual skills—hand-to-hand combat, his capture weapon fighting style, teaching, finding the perfect nap spot—you realise he's got a similar mind set, because none of those skills were part of his Quirk. He can only be a Pro Hero because of the amount of time and dedication he's taken to complement his Quirk and make sure he survives.

You have his full support in your career. Due to his schedule, he might not always be able to attend any associated events, but you knew that when getting into a relationship with a Pro Hero/teacher. He'll be there for you at the critical junctures, and he fully appreciates and supports whatever you create. He'll read your books, listen to your music, etc. It's something you've created and he's all about it.

People call him dour, but we've seen plenty of times where he isn't afraid to give praise that's deserved. You can always rely on him to give constructive criticism and praise what he likes about a certain thing. And he'll straight up admit when he doesn't know enough to give advice. It might not be the effusive, gushing praise you get from your fans, but if you're with Shouta, then you appreciate it nonetheless.

NSFW

Aizawa likes watching people do things they're good at, and this naturally extends to you. Whether that be you at your book signing, at a concert, or an art gallery hosting your latest exhibition, something about seeing you in your element makes him...excited.

You'll be at your event, performing on stage or mingling with your fans, and you'll look up and meet a pair of dark eyes across the room. Shouta, lingering on the edges as always, but watching you with eyes as warm as coals and this smirking smile half-tucked into his scarf. And you just know.

He waits patiently until the event is over, possibly even until the taxi home. But as soon as he has you somewhere semi-private, Shouta's hands are sliding around your waist and he's gonna be leaving stubbly kisses on your neck, muttering about how he doesn't know how you put up with all those people. How he's barely seen you this evening.

"You liar, you were watching me the whole time."

He gives a husky laugh. "True."

The cats are gonna be shooed out of the bedroom, because Shouta needs some private time to show you just how much he appreciates your talents.

[midnight-blue-goth]

Dooooo….. you has any…… not Disney rated Gwuncan headcanons….? 👉🏻🥹👈🏻

Mayyyybe 🫢

Be mindful. These are nsft headcanon 🔞

For Duncan 💚

There’s no way in hell Duncan isn’t a pussy eater. He knows exactly what he’s doing—got plenty of practice. Fingers included. He won’t stop until it's a slurpy mess.

Ass and thighs. That’s it. That’s the tweet.

Lingerie is hot and all, but nothing gets him going like Gwen in a baggy t-shirt and nothing else—especially if it’s his.

He thrives on adrenaline, so of course, he’s the type to risk getting caught. Airplane bathroom, a dark alley, the middle of a club—you name it, he’s thought about it.

Yeah, yeah, we all talk about him being a top, and sure, he loves railing, but let’s be real—he’d be down bad for someone riding him into oblivion. 🚀

100% the kind of guy with a happy trail. No debate.

Threesomes? Orgies? Yeah, he’d be down—no attachments, though. His girlfriend is included? That's a hell no.

Speaking of, Duncan is a jealous bastard when it comes to intimacy. What’s his is his. Period.

He never cared for phone sex or sexting… until he tried it. Now? Obsessed.

Which naturally led to him getting into recording himself—whether he’s fucking or just getting off. Sent it randomly, to be honest.

Straight, yeah, but there’s always some homoerotic tension in his close male friendships. It’s just how it is.

Not gonna lie, Duncan definitely seems like the type to avoid condoms because “they feel uncomfortable.” He’ll swear by pulling out. (Dumb, obviously)

For Gwen 💙

Choking? Obviously. Add hair pulling and tied wrists to the mix, and now we’re talking. 💯

Gwen had her fair share of internet boyfriends back in the day—mostly for attention. They swapped pics and texts, but that phase is over.

People have definitely offered her money for feet pics. Very tempting. College isn’t cheap.

Speaking of temptation, she seriously considered starting an OnlyFans but dropped the idea—too much harassment, not worth the hassle.

She's definitely into praise, especially the whole “good girl” thing. Heals her daddy issues, honestly.

On that note… yeah, she went through a phase of dating older men for validation. Didn’t take long to realize it was just in her head—and that most of them were just predators looking for a young body.

She’s probably more innocent than her friend group. Most of them are into BDSM or just casually hooking up. Let’s just say she learned a lot by watching.

She’s definitely been offered a spot in a poly relationship. She might’ve entertained it for a second, just to get the guy off her back, but let’s be real—it was some loser who just wanted multiple girlfriends without actual commitment.

She’s had her lesbian experiences. Still figuring some things out, still exploring.

She definitely has a type. We all know she loves a guy who can play guitar. If things lined up right, she’d totally be a groupie. Wouldn’t mind being a ‘tour girlfriend’ for her favorite alternative artist.

And yeah, let’s be real—nipple piercings? So canon. 👌

For Gwuncan 💚💙

Usually, Duncan’s the top, and Gwen’s the sub. It just feels natural for them to fall into those roles.

Gwen felt a little embarrassed since her gag reflexes weren’t the best. But of course, she practiced with him, and he’d never say no to that…

He might even record their sessions just for fun. Watching them back when they couldn’t be together was something he did in his spare time.

The longer Duncan stays in her room, the more they experiment with each other. It’s basically their horny teenage phase in a nutshell.

I said it before, they will be apart for a long time, so sexting and phone sex become the standard.

No matter who Duncan is with, I just know he’d tease his partner to the brink—just to get that “angry sex” What a psycho.

Speaking of psychos, Duncan and Gwen are definitely the type to role-play with a ghost mask or mess around with horror themes.

Biting. Over and over. At first, they didn’t care, but then Duncan saw the marks he’d left on her. That pushed him to keep going, knowing that by the next morning, she'd have to cover those spots with clothes or makeup.

[lindamaine]

Natasha Romanoff

2014

Hilary’s life had always revolved around photographs. Since she was a little girl, she’d burn through entire film rolls in a single day, snapping pictures of anything that inspired her — anything beautiful, important, or worth remembering. For her, photography was never just about finding the right angle and pressing a button. It was about feeling. It was about stories. About memories.

She’d always had a close bond with her parents, Charles and Monica Davis — humble, hardworking people who owned a small coffee shop. They knew about Hilary’s sexuality and supported her unconditionally. Hilary, in turn, did everything she could to make them proud — especially her father. He used to call her Sun, saying the sun only came out when she smiled. He’d wanted to give her that name officially, but her mother hadn’t agreed, so it became a special nickname, reserved for those who truly knew her. Anyone who had the privilege of calling her that was someone special.

Her teenage years were... complicated. That was when she realized, with certainty, that she didn’t like boys. Not even a little. Deep down, she’d always known. She even tried kissing one behind the school once — and nearly threw up. Her childhood best friend, Lucy, was always there for her. They were like sisters. When one of them had a problem, the other didn’t hesitate to step in. During those years, Hilary made more friends and even had a short-lived relationship, but they broke up due to different life goals.

It was also around that time that Charles was diagnosed with kidney cancer. The news devastated the entire family, but especially Hilary. She was incredibly close to her dad. While everyone in the family was loving, Charles was the most emotional. He was the one who held her during panic attacks, who comforted her through tears. He was her hero.

He passed away a year later.

After high school, Sol — as she was affectionately called — began working in journalism. She took photos, wrote articles, and occasionally helped with investigative work. And it was through her job that she met someone who, for a time, gave her life new meaning.

Gina Berdog. A striking woman — confident, magnetic. It felt like she was into Hilary. The way she looked at her, the way she touched her, the flirtatious jokes. And for a while, something bloomed between them. It felt like a fairytale. Until Gina disappeared. No warning. No goodbye. Just... gone.

That morning, Hilary had woken up feeling heavy. Memories of Gina’s tight embraces and passionate kisses came flooding back. The weight of it all sat in her chest like a stone. She had to get out. Had to walk. Otherwise, she’d spend the whole day in bed, drowning in sadness.

She found herself sitting on a bench in a park in the heart of Washington. It was a cold winter morning, but the sun still shone brightly — as if only her head was under a raincloud.

She couldn’t hold it in. The tears spilled down her cheeks. She didn’t care if her makeup ran. She wasn’t about to hide what she was feeling. That wasn’t who she was.

“Hey… why are you crying?”

A voice snapped her out of her thoughts. A woman stood in front of her. Hilary hadn’t even noticed her approach.

She had straight, red hair down to her shoulders, a fitted coat hugging her waist, and a knitted hat that covered most of her hair. Her eyes were hidden behind sunglasses. She wore jeans and plain boots.

“Oh… it’s nothing,” Hilary said, wiping her face and offering a faint smile.

Something about the woman felt familiar. At S.H.I.E.L.D., there were plenty of faces that passed you by without ever saying a word.

“No one cries over nothing,” the redhead said, pointing at the empty space on the bench. “Mind if I sit?”

“Sure,” Hilary replied, scooting over. “Thanks for asking. I appreciate it.”

“Talking helps,” the woman said, sitting down. “Especially with a stranger.” She gave a slight smile, and Hilary mirrored it. “You’re not very good at hiding your tears.”

“Yeah… I’ve always worn my emotions on my sleeve.”

“That’s tough.”

Hilary believed in fairytales. She used to think that when you met the right person, it was forever. Maybe that was true for some people — just not for her. It might sound silly to be this torn up over someone. But when you love someone, it’s hard to let go.

“Do you ever feel like you’re just… meant to be alone?” Hilary asked, her voice barely above a whisper. “Like love just isn’t meant for you? I really liked her. And I thought she felt the same. But in the end, she just left. No warning. Just left.”

The stranger listened quietly. It seemed like a short relationship, but Hilary had clearly been all in. To the redhead, it was a simple, common kind of pain — but listening to it made her feel strangely human, like she wasn’t a soldier or an agent, but just a person having a conversation.

“One day, you’ll meet someone who loves you and stays,” the woman said gently. “Don’t rush it, blondie.”

The sunlight hit her hair just right, and for a second, she looked like a photo Hilary would’ve taken. And in that moment, she understood why the sun had decided to shine that day.

“Thanks. But it’s not that easy,” Hilary said, this time with a real smile. “I’m Hilary, by the way. Hilary Davis.” She stood and extended her hand.

“Nice to meet you, Davis,” the redhead said, shaking it and standing up. “I know it hurts. But stop chasing after someone who already walked away. Or you’ll miss the one who’s trying to walk into your life.”

“Maybe. Or maybe it’s all part of learning,” Hilary said with a small, playful grin.

“Yeah. Maybe.”

They sat in silence for a while. Birds chirped, people chatted in the distance, and Hilary noticed something else — a feeling of familiarity she couldn’t quite place.

“I think I’ve seen you somewhere before…” she said, narrowing her eyes. The redhead stiffened just slightly.

“Are you… like, a model or something?” Hilary asked curiously.

The redhead relaxed and laughed softly.

“I’ve got to go,” she said. “It was nice talking to you, Hilary. A beautiful name… for a beautiful girl.”

Hilary blushed. She’d been complimented before, but there was something different about this. Something sincere.

As the woman walked away, Hilary quietly pulled out her camera and snapped a photo — just capturing the left side of her face. It might’ve seemed strange, but something about that moment felt important. After all, it’s not every day a stranger stops to listen — and leaves you feeling a little less alone.

(This text was translated from Portuguese to English, I used the gpt chat to write in English. My original is in Portuguese on Wattpad.)

[kuruk]

i think half (not exaggerating) of the people here have never been in a relationship so that's why the results of any relationship poll are always a bit skewed. nothing wrong with that ofc but I've noticed people answering these questions as if they are some kind of logical problems and not something that's mostly irrational urges and feelings

that's true and like yeah nothing wrong with that, I did see that a lot of responses seemed to be from an outsider's point of view and separated from any emotion which makes sense as to why they were quick to judge people for not having the same "logically right" answer. able to see it as objective because they just have never dealt with actually applying that and realizing relationships aren't as straightforward and perfect as you would think they're "supposed" to be based on what you've read from like tumblr posts highlighting what a healthy relationship is..

like if you've never dealt with embarrassing or ugly emotions it's easy to see it as kind of formulaic. because a lot of people responded to the wrong question and instead answered about a different issue on a wider societal scale rather than even remembering to ask themselves what they personally feel like not even addressing their own emotions and for some it almost seems forced because they already have a correct answer in their heads and they're afraid of the deterioration of their own self image as seen by others and it would have them question their worthiness to be loved lol. like I saw some people call themselves crazy and insecure for having a boundary that I've known literally tons of offline straight women to also have like sorry... and that's *without* paying for it..

actually not even just that they were like "I don't care about porn but if my partner was directly privately sexting an e-girl that obviously isn't cheating but I think I'd be a little sad because I'm too jealous and insecure and irrational.." Like I think it's probably normal for plenty of couples to be open about porn and include it in their sex lives and I don't think that there's something seriously abnormal about the people who want that but on a wider scale I think some people are too scared to even confront whether that's their wish as well and they don't address the emotions that would get them labeled negatively. I know most people in our tumblr circles here are gay but this feels like it has a lot to do with misogyny sorry help like I've seen a lot of straight and bisexual women trick themselves into thinking they're too crazy because their boyfriend is just devoid of such empathy so they drive themselves crazy thinking they're just being hysterical no matter the level of maturity that they've handled it with. which to be fair I'm sure handling it maturely is more difficult in the first place if even the emotions alone are considered wrong. like experiencing feelings that already affect your self worth obviously get harder to manage when by even having those feelings you are now considered part of a group of undesirable and unreasonable women. so yeahs

[yzeltia]

Year of the OTP 2025 March

Title: What Are You Doing With That - Phone Sex Characters: U'rahn Nuhn, Alphinaud Leveilleur, Jullus pyr Norbanus Rating: Older Teen Summary: Faced with insecurities with his relationship, Alphinaud confides in a Warrior of Light Notes: Thanks to @just-a-geeky-therapist for a beta read.

U'rahn's ears perked as he heard a strange sound scratching from the back room of the Annex. While it wasn't exactly late it was late enough for most to have retired to their private studies or have returned home. As for U'rahn, he had been helping Y'shtola go through some texts and fell asleep mid task, to later be abandoned by her after she'd finished.

Yawning, he got up and wandered out of the solar and into the hall, spotting someone digging around the communal stores where they kept miscellaneous sundries for the members of the Annex. Spotting a familiar white ponytail with blue banding, he chuckled then snuck up behind Alphinaud before giving him a poke at the sides. "Boo!"

"Seven Hells!" Alphinaud cried out, dropping whatever he had in his hand.

U'rhan let out a laugh then bent down to help pick up what had fallen, only to have Alphinaud quickly retrieve it before him. Standing back upright, he crossed his arms then tilted his head. "Whatcha got there Alphi?"

Alphinaud, beet red, clutched a small box to his chest before finding it plucked from his grasp by U'rahn. "I-I wasn't looking for those. They were just in my hands when you startled me."

"…Condoms," U'rahn read, staring at the box quietly.

"Surely you know what-" Alphinaud started.

"I know what they are! Do you know what they are?" U'rahn asked, tail thrashing behind him.

"Of course! "

Alphinaud and U'rahn stared at each other for a moment before the latter's ears and tail perked. "Oh! You and Jullus are-"

"Shush you clown! Before someone hears you," Alphinaud huffed, putting his hand over the other's mouth as he looked around. "Let's talk about this somewhere else."

Alphinaud knew well U'rahn was going to make a fuss otherwise, and the less people who heard, the better. They wandered outside together and up a path until finding a bench out of the way. Taking a deep breath, he sat up straight to explain.

"You…are not wholly incorrect in your appraisal of my situation. I was getting the condoms for Jullus and myself; however, we have not reached that point as I have been reluctant to move forward beyond fervent exchanges of kisses," Alphinaud explained, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees. "I…I am afraid."

U'rahn frowned, patting Alphinaud on the back gently. "Hey hey," he cooed. "I was afraid my first time and I was a little older than you were when I found my someone. It helped to talk to my friends. And my pops."

"My father? I could never. Not that he disproves of our relationship. I just don't think he's ready to think about me or Alisaie grown up. And then I don't think he'd have the right information for me as my mother said she was his one and only," Alphinaud sighed.

"Wait. So you've never had the talk," U'rahn asked surprised.

Alphinaud started down at his boots, ears red. "Of course I have! I was given the basic understanding from my father and once as a misguided gesture from Estinien. The assumption though was for a bit more hetero-normative relationship."

"Oh. Yeah, I guess you might encounter some minor differences there," U'rahn said with a little nod. "Do you want to talk about it with me? Y'know, Nuhn to man. I've got Nuhnly wisdom now. Would be good practice in case one day U'rahn Tia or the girls have a question. And, well, I'm going to guess it's just not knowing what to do as uh…there are plenty of other things to get up to when properly motivated and I imagine when you knew you wanted to do stuff with Jullus you went straight to books to answer all your yearning questions."

Alphinaud sat up, grimacing that he was about to be the guinea pig for U'rahn's parenting of his daughters and mammet son. Still, U'rahn did have experience and, of all the people he could think of, would most likely be the kindest and most understanding. Not to mention U'rahn had touched upon what he'd really been hiding.

"As always you are surprisingly insightful," Alphinaud lamented before looking at U'rahn. "I am just afraid. I have yet to hit my final growth spurt to reflect my adulthood. Elezen tend to have delayed physical expression if you did not know. Anyroad, I am worried Jullus will be unhappy with me."

U'rahn closed his eyes, reflecting on what he'd say before smiling at Alphinaud. "So you're worried about your size? That's something a lot of guys worry about but I'm going to tell you it doesn't matter at all when you're with someone who loves you. I mean, I always sorta thought I was a little guy cause I grew up around a lot of Roegadyn but then when I was around other Miqo'te I found out I was actually rather big.

"Big or small though, it didn't matter at all when it came down to it cause the people I was with cared about me and it we made it special. It was about being super in love any making each other feel amazing. So, if you know Jullus loves you, then don't worry about it."

Alphinaud held himself, looking down as he sat in a furious shade of red. "It is two fold. What if…when I do finally finish changing he's no longer attracted to me? I was shorter than him when we met and now I am already eye level. What if I outgrow him?"

U'rahn crossed his arms, tail twitching as he tapped his foot as he thought again. "Well, like I said. If he loves you then that sort of thing won't matter," he said before putting a hand on Alphinaud's shoulder. "Have you talked to Jullus about this? When I'm feeling bad about myself or worried about something I've done I just talk it through with Nyx or Erenville and I almost always feel better. 'Cause what's the point of having someones that you're supposed to share every thing with if you're not gonna share everything with them?"

Blinking, Alphinaud looked up at U'rahn, finding himself in somewhat in awe that he was able to make him feel better about his deepest insecurities. Perhaps not better in full, but at lest provide an answer for assuaging them the rest of the way. "You're right, Rahn. I am fretting about what he thinks when I could trust him to tell me himself. As I…trust he feels the same way about me that I do him."

With a smile, U'rahn patted Alphinaud's head. "Well, then, what are you waiting for? Go tell him what's on your mind."

Alphinaud nodded then stood up, brushing U'rahn's hand aside as he pocketed the box of condoms. "I think I will," he said, starting down the path toward his home before pausing to look back at his friend. "That was good advice. You're a good friend…and are already a great dad," he said, watching U'rahn's eyes grow wide and start to water out of gratitude.

He smiled before returning on his mission home. Once at the Leveilleur Estate, he hurried upstairs and into his room, taking care to leave his boots by his bedroom door before undressing for bed. Retrieving his tomestone, he laid on his back then took a deep breath before placing his call to Jullus.

After a few beeps, Jullus's voice sounded out from the other end, "Alphinaud? Is that you?"

"Yeah," Alphinaud responded as he slid under his covers and rolled onto his back.

"Good. I'm still getting used to this strange device. Are you okay? Do you need me to come to you," Jullus asked.

"No. Not that I wouldn't mind you here; however, I think it is best that we temper our late night visits until I feel mother has forgiven us for breaking her rules," Alphinaud said before taking a deep breath.

"Oh. So you just wanted to hear my voice," Jullus teased softly.

"Yeah. I did," Alphinaud admitted, listening as Jullus shuffled around on the other end. "Did I wake you?"

"Nah. I couldn't sleep. I'd probably sleep better if we were together," Jullus said before letting out a hearty yawn. "I'm guessing you're in bed about now too? What are you wearing?"

Alphinaud blushed at the question. "I am, well,…dressed for bed."

"Yeah? How," Jullus asked amused.

"What I wear normally. My shirt, socks, and smalls," Alphinaud responded, wondering why Jullus would think it would be anything different.

Jullus laughed on the other end. "You're not getting this."

"Getting what?" Alphinaud huffed, increasingly flustered.

"I wanted you to paint me a picture…something sexy. Like for instance, I'm just here in my tight navy briefs. The ones you always say lack any sense of modesty with how much they show off," Jullus said, voice sultry and low.

Alphinaud went crimson, Jullus painting a vivid mental picture for him. Rolling over, he buried his face into his pillow briefly, body reacting as Jullus probably intended. Working up courage, he rolled on his side with his tomestone against his ear. "Jullus…I am sorry that I've been reluctant to indulge your…needs."

Jullus let out a groan, unintentionally sounding annoyed. "Alphi…"

"I want to. Very badly. Even now I'm excited to think that you're aroused on the other end," Alphinaud continued. "Yet, I am worried that when it comes time you will only see me as everyone else, a man yet grown…And, if you like me as I am, you will not like me when I finally grow taller than you and develop in full."

Alphinaud's heart raced, met with silence from Jullus on the other end. After what seemed like an eternity, he heard his boyfriend let out a light laugh. "Alphinaud, there have been many nights when I've gone to bed frustrated beyond belief or have had to sneak off to take care of myself. I don't mind waiting until you're ready, but if you've been holding off because you're worried about your modesty…You do realise I can feel you when you are pressed against me, right? I've got a good idea of what you look like undressed."

"I-I had not given that thought," Alphinaud admitted, curling up in his blankets.

"And yeah, I realised you're going to tower over me someday. I've met your parents and have a good idea of where you'll end up. Sure, I'll be a little disappointed when you can't walk around wearing one of my shirts of jackets…but on the other hand, that means I'll be able to walk around in yours," Jullus continued. "Does that ease your ever working mind?"

Alphinaud laid there, blushing furiously. "It does. Immensely. Thank you, Jullus," he said, smiling softly to himself.

"Hey. Alphinaud," Jullus sounded out over the tomestone.

"Yes?"

"I love you."

Alphinaud let the tomestone slip from his hand before scrambling to get it back in his grasp. He felt like his heart might beat out of his chest. "I love you too," he answered back.

Jullus let out an exhale, then shuffled about on his end. "Well, I imagine you're over there embarrassed and deconstructing the meaning of what we just said and how it will affect everything. Shall I let you try and sleep?"

Alphinaud let out a small whine, about to let his mind do just that before being called out on it. Finding himself missing Jullus's presence in the wake of them saying how they felt aloud, he turned on his speaker then laid his tomestone on his other pillow. "Actually, would you just leave your tomestone on? So we can fall asleep together…"

"Uh. Alright…let me figure out how to get it to do that," Jullus said from the other end, shuffling about. "There…Well, goodnight."

Settling in himself, Alphinaud closed his eyes, trying to calm down. "…Come tomorrow. If you are not busy. Or I'll come there."

"Alright Alphi…Get some rest," Jullus cooed.

"I'll try…I love you…," Alphinaud said, trying it out again.

"I love you too."

[frankieking]

A Dad's Child Who: Thomas, Frankie & Jordan ( @thomas-meier ) What: Thomas starts to see Jordan for who he is and Frankie tries to not get in the middle. When: This para takes place over a year with breaks detailed. A/N: Just a brief look into Thomas' breaking point and how Frankie stayed away to help repair a marriage already on the brink.

FRANKIE:

Frankie sat in the dinning room by themselves with a bologna sandwich on their plate as they finished off some college applications. Two years of rehab and getting their life straight was enough to get their mind on track too. It had been a year since losing their grandparents and while they were grateful to Thomas for everything they’ve done for them, Frankie needed to start repaying. They heard footsteps and looked up, flashing Jordan a small smile. “Hey! You hungry ? I can make you one?” Meaning the bologna sandwich. Frankie knew they still had to win Jordan over. Even though it had been a couple of years since they were in one another’s lives, being in rehab didn’t give them the opportunity to bond and Frankie knew that’s what Thomas wanted most of all. Even though he had adopted her a few years back, there was still a disconnect. Frankie didn’t want to think it was their relationship with Thomas but lately, they weren’t quite sure. Maybe if they spent more time with Jordan, everyone would be happier. “I finished my Stanford application. Want to take a look?”

JORDAN:

Jordan was still wary of Frankie. He didn’t want them to be doing drugs in his house. He did voice his concerns to Thomas when Frankie came back from rehab, but he was brushed off and told Frankie was doing ‘much better.’ He would believe it when he saw it. As he passed through the dining room, he did grin back at Frankie. *’Be their friend.’* he constantly told himself. “Oh. No, I don’t eat bologna. Thank you.” Jordan was aware that he was technically Frankie’s adoptive father as well, but he didn’t feel that sort of paternal attachment toward them. “Stanford? I thought you were just applying to state schools. Um, do you need help with it? The application?”

FRANKIE:

Frankie was very aware that Jordan didn’t really click with them and they didn’t exactly blame him. Frankie came with a slew of problems and a Newlywed couple didn’t need to deal with. It didn’t matter how long Frankie was in Thomas’ life. “Ah alright. I could prep something else for you ?” Frankie pushed the essay they had just finished for Jordan to read. “State schools? And not take advantage of this noggin?” They pointed to their temple and smirked. “I had a 4.2 GPA and some pretty excellent references. Besides, I keep hearing that my story would give me an excellent chance at getting in. What do you think?”

JORDAN

Jordan shook his head. “No, it’s not necessary to make me anything. I’ll just wait for Tom to get home to have dinner with him,” he said and sat down at the table to skim over the essay. That noggin? The one that thought it was cool to do drugs? Jordan was skeptical. “Well, you had those two years ago when you graduated high school. Will they still hold up?” He asked. “If they’re looking for students who dealt with a lot, you’re certainly a poster child for A Lot.”

FRANKIE

Now Frankie was tough. They could roll with punches but they could also throw them. However, this was Jordan and they had to play nice. Thomas really liked him and he deserved that much from Frankie. They cleared their throat and watched Jordan with eager eyes hoping he genuinely was reading their words. His words however were biting. “I did and I regret not doing it then. A lot happened and I’m a changed person now.” Frankie took the essay from Jordan. “Yeah well, I don’t plan on banking on that solely. I’ve got plenty of writing credits off school campus and I was involved in a lot of events and activities even while I was in the program. They helped turn me around but also helped nourish the parts of me that might have been otherwise ignored. So yeah. Stanford.”

JORDAN

“Hm. Yeah, you could have been halfway through college by now. But no matter! You’re going now,” Jordan said, reminding himself to be nice to Frankie. “Well, if Stanford accepts you, at least Thomas makes Ivy League money and can put you through college, even if you don’t get scholarships. Though hopefully he doesn’t have to dig into the college fund we already have set up for our future children.”

FRANKIE

“Yeah…that wasn’t—“ they sighed and filed away their essay instead of going a few rounds with Jordan. The sooner they were out of the house the easier it would be for them and for Thomas and Jordan. “He doesn’t have to put me through college. I’ll apply for loans and I’m sure there will be scholarships available. I wouldn’t want you guys to take any of that money. For your kids.” They wouldn’t let Jordan know how those words cut deeply. “You don’t have to worry about any of that.” Frankie was starting to believe they were more of an inconvenience than their kid and that was fair considering they were technically an adult now. Frankie was no longer the 11 year old Thomas had met once upon a time and they had royally fucked up more than once.  “Besides, I’ll be in the dorms so it’ll be easier for everyone.”

JORDAN

“Yeah, that’s what everyone has to do with college these days, right? Take out loans,” Jordan shrugged a little.  He really wasn’t worried about it. Thomas made enough money. And he would ask for a bigger salary when his contract was up, too. Thomas promised him that if the Sharks wouldn’t pay, he would go to another team. Maybe they would even go back to New York! “Oh! Dorms are good. You’ll have a lot of fun with kids your age. Just not too much fun, right?” He said, knowingly taking a jab at their sobriety.

THOMAS

Thomas got home from practice while Jordan and Frankie were talking. He was hopeful the two of them were getting along when he heard them discussing college. He knew how excited Frankie was to start applying. Thomas had encouraged them to apply everywhere they may want to go, especially if it was nearby so he could still see them often. When he heard Jordan taking verbal jabs at Frankie, he heard enough and walked into the dining room. “Jordan. That’s enough. Leave Frankie alone. You know how hard they have worked to get to where they are now!”

FRANKIE

"Right." In truth, Frankie was already annoyed but they were trying hard to make sure Jordan didn't see it for their father's sake but also so that Jordan didn't think he was winning.  When Jordan perked about the dorms, they imagined it was because he probably wanted them out of their house as soon as possible. "You'd love that, wouldn't you?" Finally, Jordan had hit a nerve. "You'd love it if I went away and then tripped up and relapsed so you could prove me wrong."

Frankie would keep going but then they heard Thomas enter the room. They cleared their throat and gathered their applications, essays, and laptop. "It's okay, he has no reason to think I'll make it. I should go back to my room or something."

JORDAN

Jordan was suprised to see Thomas back so soon, and it showed on his face. "I was just kidding. Everyone knows that. Frankie knows that. I want what's best for her, of course. Same as anyone," he said, covering his own ass.

THOMAS

Thomas just gave him a stern look and frowned at Frankie. "*I* know you'll make it. And you don't have to go up to your room. This is your house, Frankie. You can spend time anywhere you'd like." Thomas desperately wanted to contradict everything Jordan said. He would be more than happy to help Frankie go to their dream school. It wouldn't have any impact on future kids, though with each passing day he was glad not to have them with Jordan. "Are you really going to live in the dorms? I know it's encouraged for freshmen to live close to classes and other campus activities, but you know you can stay home and commute. Whatever *you* want."

FRANKIE

Frankie looked away, quickly wiping away their tears and hoping Thomas didn't see. They ignored what Jordan said and gripped their laptop close to their chest. It was times like these where maybe a hit of something wouldn't feel so bad. "Yeah.." They whispered and sniffled. They pulled out their phone and texted their sponsor their code word.

"Thanks, Thomas." Frankie realized they hadn't called him dad in that moment and it made them cringe but maybe they weren't a part of this family after all. When he mentioned dorming, Frankie didn't want to contradict him but knew it be best if they weren't around as much anymore.  "I'll be 40 minutes away if I get into Stanford so it won't be bad. Dorming seems...*appropriate*." They didn't want to seem ungrateful so they added, "You can visit whenever, I promise." Frankie had made up their mind for their father and no one else in that room. He deserved the best chance at a functional relationship.

THOMAS

Thomas nodded a little, though it stood out to him when Frankie didn't call him 'dad'. They normally did these days. He honestly loved being called dad and felt like Frankie was his child, even if they hadn't been for a long time. "Don't give me an open invitation. You'll never get rid of me," he grinned a little. Even if Jordan was being a dick, he wouldn't be one to Frankie. He genuinely believed in them and he wrapped his arm around Frankie, hugging them from the side as they held onto their laptop. "I'll be here the rest of the night if you need me, okay?"

He waited until Frankie was out of the room and upstairs before he started in on Jordan, telling him that he heard everything and that it was unacceptable to make Frankie feel bad like that. He told Jordan that Frankie had as much of a right to the college fund they set up for their kids as any other child they had because Frankie *was* their child. He hated fighting, but it was happening more often.

FALL SEMESTER-

FRANKIE

It was the fourth week of the start of the semester and Frankie was doing great. There were a few moments of temptation which they had communicated to their sponsor and to their dad as well. They had even told Thomas about the one incident in the spring after their conversation with Jordan. Hopefully Thomas was doing better with him. Happily, they sealed an envelope which included ame mementos from Stanford including a t shirt for Thomas and a keychain for Jordan plus her entire first paycheck of wages from working at the school bookstore. They had signed the back of it for Thomas to deposit. It was a drop in the bucket for everything he was doing for them but they figured it was a start. “Hi Dad; when I become a movie star, the check will be bigger. Doing great here. I’ll see you during Thanksgiving. Maybe.” Frankie wanted to see him but didn’t want to cause more trouble. After they sent off the package, Frankie buried themselves back into their work.

THOMAS

Thomas tried to see Frankie more. He offered to come to the school all the time on his way home from games in San Jose. It was halfway between, after all. Unfortunately, the open invitation to see Frankie any time wasn't that open. They were working a lot, in addition to studying all the time. Thomas was *incredibly* proud of Frankie. Every time they texted him when they felt tempted, he beamed with pride. They were so aware and determined to stay clean. Thomas admired Frankie for it. When he got the envelope from them, he immediately put on the t-shirt. Stanford Dad. It was his new favourite piece of clothing. He snapped a photo of himself in the mirror with a cheesy thumbs up and sent it to Frankie. 'I'm going to wear this every day and brag about you more than I already do! Also, I'm not cashing your check. Keep your money! Go to a 24-hour diner at an unreasonable hour with your friends or something! Love you! Keep at it!'

FRANKIE:

Frankie laid back in their twin bed, phone attached to their chest as their eyes filled with tears. “What’s up with you , King? Heart break already? It’s first term!” Their roommate shouted out and threw a fruit roll up at them.

“No. I just miss my dad.”

“Boo daddy’s girl!”

Frankie didn’t bother to correct their roommate. It was too late and they were too nostalgic. * “looking good, dad. Please don’t wear it everyday. Laundry is still a thing. I’m sure Jordan will appreciate you washing it every so often lol. I wanted to start paying you back for rehab. You’ve done too much for me already. Friends? As if. No time for friends.”

Thanksgiving and Christmas came and went. Frankie told Thomas they were going to attend winter session and vouched to stay at a motel instead. They couldn’t imagine making the holiday better for Jordan and he wasn’t even texting them these days. That’s okay. They’ll visit for Spring Break.

*“Did you get my Christmas/Hanukkah gift? It’s a real virtual calendar. Now there’s no excuse to miss important dates. Like April 3. I’ll be home by then.” *

WINTER/END OF TERM

THOMAS

"I can do laundry every day! He deals with my man stink after games. It's fine. You will do no such thing. And go make friends! You're too sweet to not have them. You have the dad seal of approval. Bribe them with hockey tickets or something?"

Thomas desperately missed Frankie at Thanksgiving and the holidays. He offered to take them Black Friday shopping. Then he practically begged them to come home at least for Christmas Eve and New Year's.

Jordan made snide comments about Frankie not wanting to come back because they didn't miss them. And once, Thomas blew up on him after he made a comment that maybe Frankie was too coked out to come visit.

"Of course I got it! Did you get the big care package I sent you? If you insist on being away for the holidays, I'm going to send you every gift that you would have gotten for the eight crazy nights. I've got April 3 on the calendar! It's a roadie for me, then, but you should definitely tag along! Part of it is in Toronto and Ottawa. You can see my side of the family. My mum and dad say you should have gained the Freshman 15 by now and insist on doing it themselves. I believe mum said she'd make a babka just for you."

FRANKIE

Frankie had gained 15 pounds and they actually looked like themselves. They looked healthier and they had dad’s good fortune to thank for that. They secretly wondered if Jordan hated them for that too. Frankie wanted to see their adoptive grandparents more than anything. They yearned to surround themselves by family. It’s all they’ve ever wanted. Thomas was the only person after their grandparents that made them feel like they belonged. April 3 came and went.  Jordan told Frankie that he and Thomas wouldn’t be around and that it’d be better if Frankie stayed on campus. Passover was the last straw. Frankie needed to see Thomas. They texted their dad their apologizes but sent him their transcript. Straight As and next year they’d be signing up for a communications class. It wasn’t enough to fill the void and by the time the summer hit and everyone began to pack up, Frankie was lost and alone.

“Dad, can we talk?” They texted. “Please come get me. I need to talk. Something’s very wrong here. Why didn’t you want to see me for spring break? Or Passover? I thought that was our thing?”

THOMAS:

"Look at those grades! Your professors must love you! You work so hard!

And of course we can! I'll come straight from practice to campus - after showering. I told you that you were welcome, but your plane ticket to Canada was canceled... Did you not do that?"

FRANKIE:

Frankie’s brows furrowed as they sat on their suitcase. “What plane ticket?” They responded immediately to their father. There was no way Jordan would have set that up.  Right? “I know you said I was invited but then next thing I know Jordan is telling me you guys were going to be too busy and I shouldn’t come. I didn’t know there was a plane ticket. I would have been there.”

THOMAS:

"... what do you mean what plane ticket? Jordan showed me proof that he bought two. He told me you canceled. I missed you the whole time. My family missed you."

FRANKIE:

They guessed they always knew Jordan was somewhat evil. His comments to Frankie were rarely kind and he was good at covering it up with sarcasm and Thomas, well he loved his husband and there was no crime in that. Frankie’s trembling hands searched for the conversation from the spring and how Jordan had convinced them there was just no space for Frankie on this break. They snapped the screenshots and sent them to Thomas. Frankie didn’t want to be the reasons Thomas and Jordan fought so after the initial text, they added, “maybe he just wanted you for himself and family too.  I would have been a disturbance. He’s always thinking I’m gonna relapse. Maybe he thought a big trip like that would have sent me over the edge. He loves you. Don’t go too hard on him.” Frankie couldn’t believe they were defending him but they wanted Thomas to be happy above all things.

THOMAS:

Thomas couldn't believe what he was reading when Frankie sent him the screenshots of the text messages. They did make more sense than Frankie *not* wanting to come to Canada to see him play and see his family. Especially because they were all so keen on seeing them for spring break and Passover. "You wouldn't have been a disturbance. Not in any sort of way. If the stress of Stanford hasn't led to you relapsing, my family certainly wouldn't. I can't go back in time and fix what he did, but I'm going to do something about it so it doesn't happen again. I'm sorry, Frankie. I'm so sorry. I'm driving to see you, okay? I love you, sweetheart."

FRANKIE:

Frankie didn’t necessarily like Thomas’ words. He was always a man of his word and that meant that he’d hardly budge from a decision if he made one. Frankie respected that about him and quite frankly, it helped them become a better person. “I’m sorry. I would have been there. I miss you so much and it’s so stupid because you’re less than an hour away. I really wanted to see bubbe and zayda. Do they think I hate them? What are you gonna do? I love you too. I’m sitting on the quad on top my suitcases. I got us both Dunkin. Don’t text and drive.”

THOMAS

"I miss you every single day. You have to believe me, Frankie. Of course they don't think you hate them. They also love you very much. I'm going to have a stern talking to Jordan, okay?" Thomas knew that he was going to do more than that. The therapy they'd been taking for the last several months wasn't working. Things were getting worse. And this was the last straw. "I'll be there very, very soon."

FRANKIE:

Frankie was glad to hear that their grandparents didn’t hate them. They hoped that whatever conversation Thomas had with Jordan it wouldn’t be too drastic. Hopefully one day, he’d grown to like them. Once they saw their dad walking onto the quad wearing his Stanford t shirt, they tapped their second suitcase so that Thomas could sit beside them. They raised their hand and handed them one of the iced coffees they had been babysitting. “Hey, dad. Long time no see.”

THOMAS:

It took everything in Thomas to not sprint through the campus to find Frankie, but that would just leave him sweaty. He looked at his child and hugged Frankie tight after taking the iced coffee. "Hi, Franks. I'm so unbelievably happy to see you," he said. Thomas forwarded all of the screenshots to Jordan with a simple message. 'I know what you did.' Then he silenced all messages from his husband. "You didn't tell me it was time to leave the dorms. I would have come with the other car, though I suppose the suitcases will sort of fit in the trunk and the backseat. You *are* coming home for the summer, right?"

FRANKIE:

Frankie tightened their embrace with their father, unable to fathom how they haven’t seen him since last summer. “Sorry. I mean to be fair, I’ve been wallowing. You too probably, huh?” Frankie waited for Thomas to sit on the suitcase beside them and rested their head on his shoulder.

“Frankie’s dad! That’s what’s up! I’m Luke. I love Frankie! Did you know they’re an excellent chess player?”

“Luke, no.”

Frankie’s friend rolled his eyes and then held the phone sign to his ear. “Callll meeeee”

Frankie shook their head and closed their eyes. “No. He’s not my boyfriend.” Frankie missed this. “I’m sure he’d like to be. Yes, I’d like to come home for the summer. Jordan is probably gonna want to hide all the cough syrup I I’m sure. “

THOMAS

"Of course I've been wallowing. I've missed my favourite kid," he grinned and sat on the suitcase. He laughed a little at the young man named Luke. "You play chess? I didn't know that. And I *was* going to ask if he was your boyfriend. Thanks for letting me know. You're welcome home any time. It is your home, as I've told you many times. Jordan is... well. He's being a fucking asshole. More than normal. I didn't want to tell you, but we've been in couple's therapy. Before you worry, it's not your fault. It's absolutely not your fault. It's his. And also mine. I have to take responsibility for my part in it."

FRANKIE

“I’m your only kid.” Frankie laughed and watched Luke walk away before adding, “I learned this year actually ! We can play if you’re down. I have a lot to tell you and I want to hear all about Canada. The good parts at least.”

They frowned at Thomas’ confession when it came to his marriage. “I’m sorry. I know how much you love him. Is it—bad, bad or this may go away in a couple of months bad?”

THOMAS

"Technicalities," Thomas smiled. "We can play chess. I would love to hear about everything. Your classes. Your job. Your friends. Everything I've missed. I'll tell you all about Canada. Your aunt Trish - my twin, remember - wants you to come stay with her for a few days this summer. I told her that you wouldn't be a live-in babysitter for her," he chuckled. "Her own twins are two now," he said. Thomas didn't want to dump everything on Frankie. It wasn't healthy to do that. "It's been bad, bad for a while now. I was blind to it."

FRANKIE

“I want all  those things. School is great. I’m really acclimated and the other students are pretty cool. I’m working every morning before classes at the bookstore. I get 25% off discount so that’s nice.” Frankie smiled and then chuckled when their father. Even if they weren’t biologically related, they sure had similar mannerisms. “I would love to visit aunt Trish.” Hearing about the relationship woes, Frankie grabbed their father’s hand to give it a supportive squeeze. “ I’m sorry. He’s… I think he’s troubled or something. Are you thinking… the D word?”

THOMAS:

Thomas grinned. "You don't know how glad I am to know you like school and that you're fitting in here. A discount is nice. I know text books are more expensive than they should be," he said. "You don't have to stay with her. You can stay with your grandparents. My mum will make you so much food you'll explode," he grinned. Thomas squeezed Frankie's hand back. "Or something... yeah. I think it would be for the best. Again, it's not your fault."

FRANKIE:

Frankie smiled at Thomas. It was one thing hearing how proud he was through text and it was another to hear it in person. Without hesitation, they wrapped their arms around Thomas’ neck and started to cry. “I missed all of this. All the dad and Frankie stuff. I took you for granted and —and I was so mad at Jordan but didn’t want to ruin anything for you. I love you so much. You saved my life over and over again and I can never repay you for any of it.  I don’t know who my biological dad is. I’ll never know. He left me before he got to know me and you wanted me as your kid after you got to know me and—“ Frankie sniffled and held on. “I want you to be happy. I want you to be so happy. I’ll stay with bubbe and I’ll eat all the food but I want to see you too and I want to stay home. I’ll commute and take a shift after class instead. I’m sorry about this. I know you’re saying it wasn’t my fault but I’m still so sorry.”

THOMAS

Thomas hugged Frankie tighter than he had since they were in the hospital after almost dying. Tighter than he had since he dropped them off at rehab. “Frankie,” Thomas said, voice cracking a bit as he started to cry as well. “I miss it all. I miss you, and I love you. I never, ever want anyone to get between us again. You repay me by being my child. You repay me by kicking ass at school.” He pulled back a little to look at Frankie. “Whatever you want! You can commute or you can stay on campus if you like living here. Just come home on the weekends. And come home for the holidays and breaks. Don’t apologise for something that isn’t your fault.”

FRANKIE

"I don't either. I wish things would have been different with Jordan." They wondered if he'd be there when they returned home. Frankie looked up at Thomas and smiled a bit sadly. "I'll make you proud." They wiped their tears away and forgot for a moment they were sitting out on the quad. "I'll think about it. I have to let them know about room and board by next month so I have time. In truth, Frankie didn't want Thomas alone during the divorce process.  "Do you want to get something to eat before we get back? I'm craving some nuggets." They chuckled. "And fries..."

THOMAS

“Me, too. I didn’t marry him with the intention of getting a divorce,” Thomas said. He still loved Jordan and that was the hardest part. “I know you will. You always do. I’m glad you don’t have to choose now. Just let me know. And if you’d prefer off-campus housing with friends, I’m sure we could figure that out, too,” he said. “We can absolutely go out to eat. It sounds like you have a specific place in mind,” so let’s get your stuff loaded up into the car, then head to the restaurant.”

FRANKIE

"I know. But you're great. And I'm sorry but if he can't see that, he's the one with the problem." Sure, Frankie was biased but Thomas was the most amazing person they've ever met. It set such high expectations for when they got older and found someone of their own. "Friends." They chuckled. "I have like four friends and one of them is Luke. If I even mention housing together, he may have a coronary. "Also..." Frankie grinned as they walked toward the car with Thomas. "How do you feel about me playing field hockey for Stanford?"

THOMAS

“I haven’t been perfect. Especially early on, but at least I’ve grown up a bit,” Thomas said. “Hey, the quality of your friends is more important than the quantity. Always remember that,” he grinned and carried the heavier bag. “You should do it! That would be fun! And I would come to any game I’m able to be at,” he promised.

FRANKIE

"And that's what matters." Jordan could kick rocks. Frankie had so much disdain toward him that they didn't know what they'd do if they bumped into him again. Perhaps that was why Thomas wanted them to spend some time with family until the dust settled. "Yeah? I'm signing up!" Frankie grinned. "Show them my skills and everything you've ever taught me. And *I* will come to any game I can catch of yours." Frankie finished loading the car and then hugged their dad once more. 'We're going to be okay, dad. I promise."

THOMAS

Thomas smiled widely. Despite hardly even hearing from his child for the last year, it felt like they fell right back into their stride. “Good! I hope you have so much fun with it and make a ton of friends,” he grinned. “They’ll ask how you’re so good at stick handling. Then you can just say your dad is a Shark. I can’t wait to see you at more games. You know there are always tickets for you.” Thomas hugged Frankie again after the car was loaded. “I know we will, sweetheart. We got each other.”

FRANKIE

"Friends, he says! Pfft." Frankie joked, always jokingly defiant about fostering new friendships with others or even relationships. They never really took a deep dive into why they avoided them like the plague but if they had to guess it was because they were afraid of losing them just like they'd lost just about everyone. When Thomas started to become so purposely in their life, Frankie feared the loss of a father figure and then turned father. Last year, they had convinced themselves that was exactly what was going on. Perhaps Frankie couldn't handle too many people to hold on to. Relationships were some liability. Maybe that'd change someday but for now, they'd deal with it. "I will brag about my dad, the Shark." Frankie nodded, knowing that they had to do better with Thomas after the tumultuous year they just had. They *did* have each other and when he said it, Frankie looked up at him and smiled however there was a big part of them that knew Thomas deserved something better. Something *more*. Hopefully, someday, Thomas would find true love and someone that would embrace his entire life. "Come on, let's get those nuggets."