#pride long sleeves T-shirt

[huneezpot]

Show Your True Colors PRIDE Collection is Now Available at Huneez Pot!

Celebrate diversity and inclusivity with the PRIDE Collection from Huneez Pot. Embrace vibrant colors and expressive designs that represent love, equality, and acceptance.  Let your true colors shine. Buy Now Online!

[dolcegalante]

(Heartstopper Happy Pride Long Sleeve T-Shirt by JackRebel gönderdi)

Heartstopper Happy Pride Long Sleeve T-Shirt

[chrollohearttags]

blerd!ony…💭

been wanting to write about my sweetheart + I needed something self indulgent today so here we are! 🩷

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you never really liked talking anime or nerd culture with men!…a strange thought but a true one nonetheless. It was always one exhausting conversation after the next. From being giving random pop quizzes about this series or a lecture about how that one doesn’t measure up to the solidified greats. That was until you met blerd!ony…the gentle, kindhearted cashier in the store you frequented on a daily basis. Blerd!ony, who recognized the t-shirt you were wearing immediately from that very obscure yet classic anime you loved so much, became absolutely ecstatic to talk to you from that day on. The tall, gorgeous male with a smile like the stars, the most beautiful complexion you’ve ever seen and a voice like honey had given you even more of a reason to gush over him. “You gotta give me your top five right now. I always see your keychains and shit. You got good taste..” you were a bit hesitant because this was always the point where things went left but blerd!ony surprised you by praising your choices and even saying he’d check out the ones you’d put him on to. blerd!ony, who had a sleeve full of video game themed tattoos took pride in showing off his pieces when you happened to catch him outside on smoke break one night. Telling you how he played all the time and even streamed a bit in his free time. “I do alright, you should check me out.” blerd!ony, who was always holding up the line just to chat with his favorite customer about the new series he just started. “I’m talking to my girl, y’all can wait—anyways, did you see that new episode? Shit was crazy.” it wasn’t long before he was asking for your socials and hoping to keep the communication going on days even when he couldn’t see you. blerd!ony, who couldn’t believe his eyes when he saw the girl who came in his store with sweatpants and a DBZ shirt all dolled up in your cosplays..some a lot more revealing than others. blerd!ony, who’d always wanted to try the hobby but was afraid had some questions..among other things the next time he saw you. “I see how it is, best friend. You be putting that shit on.” you were infatuated with his humor and laid back personality so naturally, when he invited you to an anime cafe in your city, you accepted. blerd!ony, who was the perfect gentleman ensured that you had the best time as you two chopped it up about all things nerdy, making you laugh more than you had in a long time.

blerd!ony, who confided in you that he didn’t have many friends and especially ones into the things he was, told you how happy he was to have met you. “You cool as hell, we gotta do this more often.” a sentiment you agreed with heavily agreed with. Some time had passed and you two spoke nearly everyday. That’s when he revealed that he was not only interested in attending his first con but cosplaying as well, asked you accompany him..and pick a character! “I trust you, ma. Make me look good..” it was a no brainer as the two of you were huge fans of the Mortal Kombat series and decided to dress as Sindel and Shao Kahn. So the two of you spent days going to the fabric store and ordering materials to build props in your spare time..blerd!ony, who was turning heads the entire time when he revealed that Adonis like figure that had been hiding underneath that company polo everyday..you were nervous and even a little embarrassed walking beside someone so fine. but blerd!ony couldn’t keep his eyes off of you or hands..holding your left one, keeping you close and grasping the small of your back as he guided you through the crowds. Even carrying all of your bags and letting you rest your tired feet on his lap. blerd!ony, who had been eyeing you all day couldn’t help but to be entranced when it was time for the after party and the two of you were dancing with liquor in your system. “You full of surprises, huh mama?” “Try me and you might find out just how many.” blerd!ony, who couldn’t wait to get back to you guys’ hotel room, tore that costume open quicker than you could get the door open..leaving a trail of warm kisses down your neck as his fingers delved into your core, pinning you against the wall in the process. “You so fucking sexy..” muttering in your ear as he hiked your leg up and tugged his bottoms down. blerd!ony, who fucked you like a man starved that night had you grasping at things that weren’t even there..taking you from the mirror, to the dresser and eventually the bed, where he gave you deep backshots; grasping that platinum gray lace front on your head as he did so. “You don’t know how long I been wanting this..fuck..” blerd!ony, who had you fucking up the sheets all night, getting stretched by that thick cock with the curve, absolutely depleted you, so much so, you two barely made it around the convention the next day but he was glad that he had met the girl who loved the same things he did and the one of his dreams. <3

[love-bitesx]

was booking myself a new tattoo and this is all i could think of ! this is just brainrot ramble

: ̗̀➛ hobie brown x gn!reader - giving him tattoos (and yourself)

thinking about giving hobie sweet little tattoos with a makeshift stick and poke set up. he'd come home drunk one night, slurring his words and holding you close to him, ranting about how he wants you to give him a tattoo (and something about not wanting to pay big corporations for a real tattoo gun). even if you’re not creative, he just wants to be able to look at his skin and see evidence of you, always. you refuse him at the time, telling him he's too drunk and he'll regret it. but when it's the next day, and he's stone cold sober, you walk in on him hunched over the kitchen table, making a little stick and poke creation.

so, it’s late at night, he’s sprawled out across your bed like it was his, his head and shoulders pressed into the headboard, eyes trained on you. straddling his lap, you held his arm up to the lamp, tongue stuck out in concentration. hobie winced everytime the needle met his skin, his free hand gripping at your thigh to outlet the pain. when you're done, and he's all cleaned up, he's lit up with pride, constantly checking his arm in different lights to see your design. "it's perfect, darlin'," he mutters, his lips pressed to your forehead.

he’d very rarely ever wear sleeves again after that, always having your design on show to remind him of you when he’s away. not that he needed it, you always had a comfortable seat in the front of his mind. he’d show it off to his friends, though, all the time.

"oi, pav!" he'd call out to his friend, drawing his attention over to his exposed skin.

"you got a tattoo!" pav would exclaim, hopping over and inspecting it closely.

“my partner did it,” he couldn’t mask the grin from fuzzing his cheeks, “fuckin' sick, right?”

his heart wasn't even prepared for what he'd come home to that night. when he'd climb in through your window, shedding his spider-apparel and kicking his boots off by your dresser, he'd notice your sleeping form. smiling to himself, picking up the sheets and climbing into the empty space, careful not to startle you – not that it would, you were more used to waking up beside him than alone.

his hands wouldn't be able to stop themselves from touching you, needing to feel your skin beneath his fingertips, and beaming at the sleepy sound of his name leaving your lips. when his hands find your hip, however, you jump and groan in pain. he'd pull you to him.

"'the fuck 'appened?" he'd whisper, careful not to touch the area again, but be confused at your reaction.

"tattoo," is all he could catch, through your tired, and possibly pained, groans.

"you what?" he'd mutter, and lift the covers back, hiking up your his t-shirt to expose a tiny black design, sitting on the skin above your hip bone.

etched into you was a tiny spider, hand drawn and adorned with little spikes, similar to his persona. he'd be so taken aback, he wouldn't even know what to say.

"'s'this for me, sweetheart?" his fingers would very lightly ghost the dark outlines, honing into your body's reaction to it, steering clear of the painful areas. he's close to you, very close, and you can feel his heart pounding against his chest.

"mhmm," you moan, your brain finally pulling itself from slumber, warm in the smell of him, tangling your arms around his neck, "all for you."

"fuckin' ell," he breathed before kissing you with such a passion you'd never felt from him before. he was drowning in you, head buzzed at the thought of something of him being on your skin forever, and you on his. heart pouring, he reached for you in every way he could.

he'd be obsessed with both of the tattoos, strongly encouraging you to never ever wear anything high-waisted again, so long as he steered away from sleeves. pride and happiness overtook him when he'd see you with other people, in public or with friends, and see the black ink peek through your clothes, knowing that it was for him, and nobody else.

he just loved you a lot, and he adores the permanent reminders.

[lady-djarin]

apple pie

bucky barnes x f!reader (one shot)

warnings: soft!bucky, longing, flirting, oral (m receiving), pet names (baby, doll), p in v sex (unprotected- wrap it up y’all), fingering, praise, choking, 18+ minors dni GO AWAY YOUNGLINGS

word count: 4.7K

a/n: heyyy so i finally did it! after way to long here she is. this is not edited very much at all so i apologize but i don’t completely hate it and it fills the hole in my heart that is reserved for bucky <3 enjoy!

Growing up in your small town of Delacroix, Louisiana, everybody knew everybody. One of your good friends growing up was Sarah Wilson. Everyone knew the Wilson’s. especially when Sam became an Avenger. You were born in the city and loved it; the small fishing port, friendly people and small town America feel it had. You worked at one of the oldest diners in town that almost everyone was a regular at. Your uncle owned the place so you helped out when you had the free time. Nothing too exciting ever happened in your sleepy little corner of the south, not until Sam came back to town that is.

The whole town had been buzzing about Sam's return home and all the good work he had done as an Avenger. Sarah had also told you about the “broodingly handsome” friend he had brought home with him. She said that Sam and his friend ‘Bucky’ had been working on the boat constantly, trying to get it up and running. They had stopped in a few times here and there to get lunch or pick up dinner for the whole family but never stayed long enough to talk. There were some moments where you caught the mysterious man looking your way but brushed it off as nothing important. You did agree with Sarah, Bucky was handsome but you figured he’d probably be leaving sometime soon to go save the world or whatever it is that Avengers do.

On Sunday nights you always stayed late to make your signature apple pie for the week to sell at the diner. Everyone had gone home for the night and you were left to finish baking the last pie. You were sitting behind the diner counter, mindlessly scrolling on your phone when the soft jingle of the front door broke you out of your haze.

“Miss apple pie!” Sam's voice was always a cause to make you smile. You were like brother and sister and you had endless good memories growing up with him.

You looked up and your heart skipped a beat when your gaze met that of the dark haired man beside Sam. You hadn’t thought much of him before, he was attractive, sure but not until now did you really feel anything for the man. His hair was messy, just slightly from working on the boat all day and his white shirt was now covered in grease. He looked rugged and tough in an almost perfect way. His blue eyes stood out under his dark eyebrows, they almost glowed in the soft light of the diner.

“Hey you two, come sit down, I just finished making some.” The two tall men sat in front of you, plopping down with a sigh. Bucky rubbed his right shoulder with his left arm and a glint of metal caught your attention, peeking through the end of his sleeve under his glove. You wondered why he wore the glove but never asked, in fear of offending him. You served the boys their slices of pie and watched as they dug in. You loved making food for people, especially baked goods. Watching people enjoy your hard work filled your chest with pride. The three of you ate and talked for a while until your last pie was done in the oven.

“So, what are you still doing in this small town? I always thought you would get out of here and write a book, or do something amazing,” Sam asked as he wiped his mouth where crumbs of pie crust had fallen.

“Well, you know how it is, my family needed me. Plus where would I go? I don't really have anywhere else to go,” you sighed, placing the now done pies in the fridge, ready for the week.

“You could go anywhere, the world is a large place,” Bucky finally spoke up, otherwise quiet until now. You stared at him, kind of in shock, hearing something coming from his lips.

“I guess that's true...” his icy gaze captured yours, making you unable to look away. A sharp ringtone broke through the silence, causing you to lose your focus on the man in front of you.

“Hi Sarah, I-- yes, I’m on my--- Ok! Ok! I'll be right there, bye,” Sam hung up the phone as he rubbed his forehead. “Sorry guys, I promised Sarah I’d help the boys with their homework,” he shoved his phone into his pocket and grabbed his plate to help clean.

“No no, don’t worry about it. You guys go, I'll clean,” you took the plates from both men and turned to put them in the sink.

Bucky finally spoke up again. “I’ll stay and help you clean, I'll meet you at home later Sam,” he grabbed the rest of the dirty dishes and pie tins before rounding the counter. Sam said his goodbyes before rushing out the door, mumbling about being late. The two of you spent some time cleaning and making small talk, he told you about how he met Sam through a mutual friend, who just so happened to be Captain America. So naturally you questioned him about that as much as he would allow, until the entire diner was clean. Soon you both realized how late it was and started to head out.

“Thank you for helping, I appreciate it.”

“No problem, considering Sam dined and dashed,” you laughed at the thought of him being yelled at by Sarah over the phone. “I’ll walk you to your car.”

“Oh I didn't drive, I only live a few blocks away so I walk,” you motioned down the street, intending to walk alone.

“Well I'm not going to let a pretty lady like you walk home alone,” he stepped closer, eyes lidded and glued to your lips. “Especially looking as sweet as you do,” his hand snaked its way up to your face and he swiped his thumb across your lower lip. He held it up to the light to see a spot of powdered sugar on his thumb.

You were about to say how embarrassing it was that you had it on your face all evening but you had a feeling he did that on purpose when he stuck his thumb into his mouth. He relished the taste on his tongue and the almost imperceivable sound that came from his throat made your chest tighten. He smiled that sweet smile like he didn't just do… that, and he stuck his elbow out to escort you down the sidewalk.

The tone of your conversation had definitely shifted towards flirty while walking back to your apartment. He rested his gloved hand on top of yours, a soft yet strong gesture, telling you he would protect you if need be. The two of you walked side by side, getting to know each other with mindless small talk. He didn't talk much, mostly asking about you but he always looked like you were telling him the most interesting thing in the world. Finally you reached your apartment building, though you tried to walk slowly, because of how much you enjoyed his company.

“Well, this is me. Thank you for walking me home, James,” he told you his full name, although now he regrets it.

“Please, my friends call me Bucky.”

“Oh are we friends... Bucky?” You took a chance and stepped closer, closing the small distance between you two. Testing the waters, you put your hand on his chest, right next to his shoulder. Under his shirt you could feel something hard right near the top of his peck. You kind of toyed with the seam of it under your fingers without trying to draw your eyes to the area.

“It's metal,” he had kind of a lost, sad look in his eye.

“I’m sorry I didn't mean to–” you withdrew from him now, feeling awkward at the confession. You could see the hurt in his eyes from the memories that must be playing in his mind. Sam had told you some of the awful things he went through in the service so you can't imagine what Bucky had gone through.

“It's alright, have a good night, doll,” his soft lips gently kissed the apple of your cheek, sending shivers down your spine.

Doll. Doll?

Usually you hated cheesy nicknames that men used to make women feel smaller, but coming from his lips, oh lord did it sound nice. The tall man stood watch as you made your way into your apartment building, one last wave before seeing you disappear into the elevator. He would never admit it, but his heart was in his throat the entire time he was with you.

------

“Nothing happened Sam. I walked her home, that's all,” Bucky threw his hands up in defense, neglecting to tell Sam about the kiss on the cheek.

“That's all that better have happened. She's like a sister to me,” Sam was always protective of you, even against his best friend.

“Don't worry Sammy, nothing happened… yet,” he mumbled the last word as he turned away, not letting his friend hear his true intentions.

He would never tell Sam, but he was already over the moon for you, even after only a few interactions. The small smile on your face whenever he spoke, the adorable way you froze when he wiped the sugar off your lip. He had been wanting to do that all night and he was so glad he finally got the courage.

“Buck, I swear, if you so much as think about it–”

“Oh come on, relax! I won’t!”

The two men were standing in the kitchen after the rest of the family had gone to bed. As Sam walked past his friend to go to bed, he whispered to his friend, “Be nice to her, ok? She's like a sister.”

“Will do, Wilson.”

—--

You were cleaning up the diner after closing, tired and sticky from a long day, ready to go home. You had the radio on louder than usual to motivate the cleaning process, unaware of the door jingle you danced your way around the floor, broom in hand. You spun around a corner to head towards the front and finish sweeping when you collided with a solid chest. A small scream lept from your throat when large hands turned you around to face the most beautiful blue eyes.

“Oh Bucky! You scared the shit out of me!”

“Sorry doll, just wanted to see if you need a walk home?” His eyes sparkled when he saw your face, a wide smile to go with them.

“I would love that! Let me put this stuff away, give me a minute.”

You put the cleaning supplies away and turned off the lights and radio while Bucky sat at the same barstool the night you met him. When you were done you gathered up your belongings and Bucky walked you out as you locked the door. He offered his elbow just like the last time.

Such a gentleman.

“So, how was your day?” His voice was deeper than usual.

“Oh you know, the usual. Busy.”

You made small talk the whole way home, like you had known each other forever. By the time you got to your building neither of you wanted it to end.

“Hey… do you want to come in for a beer?” You weren't sure how he would perceive it but with how comfortable he seemed with you, maybe it wouldn't be so bad.

“I’d love to.”

The two of you walked up to your apartment and settled into your place like you had done it a dozen times. You opened a beer for the both of you and sat on the couch, close enough to make you want to reach out and touch him. Of course Bucky was an attractive guy and the chemistry was electric, but you didn't want to jump to any conclusions.

After the conversation became comfortable and more than a few beers were empty, you felt bold.

“So…Bucky…” You were still nervous to ask.

“Yes, doll?”

“Can I ask you something…personal?”

You could see the slight change in his demeanor, the anxiety in his face.

“Anything.”

“What happened to your arm?” You could feel your heartbeat out of your chest as your voice shook.

There was a static silence, something shifted in him and you could see it.

“You don't have to tell me if you don't want to. It-it’s none of my business… I’m sorry.” you got up and collected the empty bottles, heading to the kitchen when his voice froze you.

“It was the war…” he sounded distant. Like he was in that memory again.

“Bucky, please its ok, I'm sorry i ask–”

“No I… I want to tell you. It was a mission, I thought I was dead...”

You couldn't bear to hear anymore, you lunged forward and wrapped your arms around his neck. He didn't know how to react at first but he slowly slipped his hands around your waist, pulling you into him. He held you like you were a lifeline, nuzzling his face into your neck.

“I'm so sorry Bucky… you didn't deserve this.”

He breathed deep, like he was holding back a sob. You rubbed your hands up and down his back, soothing him while he steadied his breathing again. He pulled away from you just enough to bring his face to yours, his breath fanned across your lips. You looked into each other's eyes, you could feel the mood change. Something was different.

He slid his gloved hand up your arm until it cradled your cheek, the leather feeling foreign on your skin. You put your hand over the glove, pulling it down to your face. Slowly turning over his hand you undid the strap on the top of his glove. Pulling the glove off, revealing a dark gray metal in place of fingers. There were intricate gold details woven through the thin plates of metal.

“Oh my god…”

“I know it's–” he tried to pull his hand away.

“It's beautiful.” You were in shock, it was like he was made of midnight sky with gold stars flying across it.

He was stunned to say the least, unsure of how to respond. Instead, he placed his steel hand on your cheek again. You thought it would be cold, unfeeling. It was quite the opposite, it felt as alive as him.

You turned your head to kiss the inside of his palm, trailing your lips down to the inside of his wrist. You could hear a small hum from his chest, an approval.

That made you want to test the waters.

You put his hand back on your face, moving your face closer to him. You couldn't lie, you wanted to see what his arm looked like, actually, all of him. You slid your hand from his wrist up to his bicep and felt the lines of metal under the cotton shirt clinging to his body. He jolted in surprise but didn’t move away from you as you ran your fingers over the curves of muscle on his arms.

You could still see some hesitation in his beautiful eyes, telling you not many other people might have seen as much of him. You wanted to show him this wasn't some meaningless fling to you, you understood the gravity of this for him.

“James…” He smirked at the formality. “You can tell me to stop.”

The thought never came to him. Instead of putting it into words, he hauled you into his seated lap. The motion pleasantly surprised you, you were glad he took charge and made the decision. You could feel the hardness under your thighs, making it seem like all of him was made of metal. The slightest roll of your hips made him groan from deep in his chest.

“Baby I-” The nickname slipped off his tongue so naturally you almost missed it. “I haven't, uhh, you know– it's been a while.”

“Hey, it's ok. Me too,” you laughed at yourself. Dating in a small town is hard, especially when you know everyone and everyone knows you. You were still moving in his lap, almost undetectable, but enough to make his length harden.

You couldn't tell but he was losing his grip, trying to hold back and not rush you either. You had him mesmerized, lost in your eyes and his hands on your hips that were moving against him. He wanted nothing more than to touch every inch and taste just as much. You were lazily kissing, neither one wanted to break the spell.

His lips were soft like silk and he smelled like smoke and motor oil. The thought of him working on that boat with Sam made your thighs clench. You could imagine him bare chested and sweaty out in the Louisiana sun. You intertwined your fingers in the hair at the nape of his neck to draw him closer. The motion sealed your lips together further and his tongue danced across yours as his hands roamed your body. He caressed and squeezed every curve he could find, leaving you breathless.

You needed more.

You wanted to taste him.

You kissed your way down his neck and clothed chest all while trying to remove his shirt. You slid down on your knees between his thighs and looked up at him with bated breath. He didn't object to your action and you took it as a sign to continue. You worked the button and zipper open on his jeans and he moved his hips out of the confining fabric. His hard length was tenting his underwear and your mouth practically watered at the sight. Your hands on his thighs slid closer to the waistband of his boxers, pulling the fabric slightly. You peppered little kisses and small bites along all his clothed skin, watching him get visibly harder.

“Oh fuck baby…” his voice was dark and soothing. He was holding back for your sake, letting you do what you want but he was slowly starting to slip.

You finally removed the remaining clothing around his hips and motioned for him to remove his shirt. The muscles on his chest strained with the effort and before he leaned back again you were on him. You wrapped your mouth around the head dripping with precum before he even saw you do it.

“Shit–” His hands flew into your hair to hold you just like that and he relaxed into the couch. Your mouth worked him the best you could but he wasn't a small guy by any standard. Your eyes watered when you took him all the way, your nose hitting the curls at the base of him. He groaned at the warmth of your mouth and knew he wouldn't last long. You bobbed your head up and down while his large hand gripped your hair, pulling just hard enough to feel good. You knew you were dripping, ruining your underwear but you didn't care. All you wanted was to hear this man moan your name for as long as he’d allow. Your name came in broken moans as he chased his high.

Bucky was getting carried away, he should be the one pleasing you not the other way around, he thought. But when you slid your tongue up the vein running along him, he was powerless to stop you. He almost felt guilty for it but couldn't bring himself to make you stop, you felt too good.

The salty taste of precum told you he was close, painfully close, so naturally… you slowed down. You were torturing him a little bit but having this powerful super soldier in the palm of your hand was just too good. You could see the almost painful look in his face when he looked down at you, urging you to touch him.

“James… I need you.”

His name, those three words, it sent him tumbling over that edge of control. He extended his hand to help you up and before you could get your bearings he pulled you down to fall onto the couch. So there you were, face down in the pillow with your fully clothed ass in his face. He pulled the band of your soft pants down your hips, along with your underwear, fully exposing you. The cool air of the room brushed your skin as he moved behind you. His hands were steady as they moved across the skin of your ass. You were dripping no doubt. The slick feeling was making you blush, Bucky hadn’t even really touched you yet and you were practically putty in his hands.

Your heart was thundering in your chest knowing he was staring at you, probably deciding what to do. After a brief moment he pulled you up against his chest, one hand on your chest over your shirt and the other sneaking up under the hem of the fabric.

“Jesus, you…” he nuzzled his nose into the hair draped over your neck. “You're so soft.”

He ran his hands under your top and pulled the thin bra over your hardening nipples. He lightly brushed his fingertips over the pebbled skin and you unclasped the band of your bra and pulled off your top to let him have full access to all of you. His touch was so soft and sweet, it made you even wetter. You had a feeling he was holding back because he was afraid to hurt you.

Oh, if he only knew.

“Please, Bucky… I-I want you. All of you.” your voice was so small that you barely heard it.

“What baby? What do you need?”

You clenched around nothing hearing his voice, whining a response not able to form words. You pushed your hips back into him, feeling his hard length against your soft backside. His voice echoed in your ear, almost like a low growl from his chest.

“I– p-please…” You were delirious. And his roaming hands were not helping.

His lips were just as curious as his hands. His tongue was tracing the strong pulse in your neck all the way up to your ear. He sucked on the sensitive skin behind your ear and you rolled your head back to accommodate him. You couldn't help how your eyes fluttered closed when he pulled your hair back to keep your neck exposed. His fingers were tangled in your hair, he completely controlled where your head was. You moaned as he continued to lick and nip at your neck and slowly inched his metal fingers toward your slick center.

The dark metal was biting in a good way, harder than flesh but still comforting to the touch. The gold glinted off the low light in the room, catching your eye. Your gaze followed his fingers as they spread the wetness around your clit. You moaned as he sped up his movements until you were a painting mess, his arms the only thing holding you up.

“Oh f-fuck… mmm Ja–James…” You whined when he pushed his middle two fingers into your heat. Your hips ground onto his hand, the metal smooth yet the grooves in the design made you dizzy as your sensitive bundle of nerves ground into the heel of his hand. You were seeing stars and were quickly barreling toward a release. His chest pressed against your back let you feel his climbing heartbeat and rapid breathing.

Just as you felt a warmth start to spread in your lower stomach, he pulled his expert fingers away. You slumped against the loss and moaned in protest.

“I need to see your face when you cum.”

He swallowed your moan and shifted you to lay on your back, ever so softly. Ever the gentleman. Your heart swelled. Before you had a chance to register, his massive arms opened your legs and pushed your knees up to your chest. His grip was strong enough to bruise and you hoped it did. He ran his metal fingers over your soft folds, through your slick and hummed as he licked it off.

“Mhmm, sweet as apple pie.” He gave you that devastatingly brilliant smirk that just made you melt.

You hummed as he rubbed his tip through your folds, his chest exhaling above your face. He locked eyes with you as he guided his length into your swollen pussy. You practically purred as he bottomed out inside you. It was like liquid ecstasy was running through your veins, something you never experienced before.

“Jesus Christ, look at you doll.” His voice sounded like it had been dragged out of him, across gravel. The sound made you clench around him. “Y’look so pretty like this…” his words were almost slurred, like he was drunk on you.

And if he was honest with himself; he was drunk on you. This was a new feeling, entirely its own. It felt like his body was reacting to yours in some indescribable way. As he rocked into you, the only sounds were of your quiet moans and breaths, your noises spurring him on more.

“L-let me hear you baby… talk t– talk to me.”

“James… oh my– my god, you feel so…so good.” You clung onto his arms as they framed your head. You turned toward his mechanic arm, your lips meeting his thumb. You licked the digit, wanting to feel the metal in your mouth. He must have noticed your unconscious movements because he adjusted his arm and cupped his hand around your jaw, the thumb teasing your bottom lip. His hips never lost their rhythm as he pushed his thumb into your mouth. You moaned and sucked on his finger and his grip tightened on your face and eventually slid to your neck.

You couldn’t help the small smile that broke on your lips. You knew he saw it, and that he knew what it meant. The metal digits tightened around your throat, just enough to send stars across your vision.

“Oh fuck… you’re so fu— fucking tight. You— you like that don’t you? You like my hand around your throat?”

He was picking up the pace now. Whether he meant to or not his hips were slamming into you much harder now, every thrust causing his grip to tighten on your neck. The lewd noise of him moving inside you was ringing in your ears, the loss of blood flow made you dizzy. But you think you might just die if he stopped.

He kept his Vibranium hand on your pulse while he sat back and reached between you. For a moment you thought he was going to stop but when his fingers found your sensitive clit, you gasped at the feeling. He knew just how to fill your veins with fire, set your whole body ablaze. As he expertly circled your bundle of nerves you could feel his significant size swell inside you. You knew he was close.

“Bu— Bucky… please…” your words were long and drawn out. You were teetering on the edge now, practically vibrating with your pent up release. You needed one thing, one small thing to send you over that edge.

And he was that one thing.

“Fuck— where?”

You knew his release was going to be your salvation. You wrapped your legs around his hips, sealing him to you, telling him to empty inside you. Your walls clamped down on him, wringing him dry as he came and practically whined in your ear. He never stopped his movements on your clit. Feeling him finish inside you was all you needed to scream his name as the fire in your veins exploded. You came harder than you ever have before, like nothing you ever experienced.

You both could do nothing but lay there as your bodies recovered. Bucky stroked your arm and hummed as you nuzzled into him.

“Shower?” his chest rumbled with the words.

“Only if I can come with.”

“Deal.”

He kissed you all the way to the bathroom and didn’t let you lift a finger while he turned on the shower and made sure there were towels for both of you.

You didn’t know what to expect of the mysterious soldier but, boy you were not disappointed.

Sadly, you had a feeling deep in your stomach that he wouldn’t be around long. I mean, who can expect a superhero to stick around for very long when there is a whole word to save.

But damn it if you weren’t going to enjoy it while it lasted.

[hyuburt]

Lineup!!!

[ID: Two uncolored rough sketches of the homestuck girls lined up side by side, three on each image. The first one shows Aradia, Nepeta, and Kanaya side by side in order of blood color. Aradia is on the left and she is facing the viewer with one arm behind her back and the other raised with her hand splayed as though she is using her telekinesis. Her hair is long and curly, with two sections draping on either side of her face and over her chest. Her clothes are torn and visibly dirty. Her eyes have no pupils and her expression is calm and hollow. Next to her in the middle is Nepeta, who is energetically holding her clawed, gloved fists up next to her head in pride. She is considerably shorter than aradia, her long open jacket pooling on the floor behind her feet. The horns poking out of her hat gives the illusion of a cat face, and her two pointy bangs give the illusion of fangs. Her hair floofs out wildly around her face where it pokes out of her hat. Her expression is downright ecstatic, with a small button nose and freckles on her cheeks. To her right is Kanaya, who is notably taller than either of them. She is standing upright and still, with her hands clasped loosely below her stomach. She is wearing a shirt sleeved shirt over a long sleeved shirt, along with her signature long skirt that drapes around her slippered feet. She has a long straight nose and her expression is mild and neutral, though not unapproachable. The next image is a continuation of the homestuck girls lineup, continuing with Terezi, Vriska, and Feferi. Terezi is the shortest of the three and is drawn slightly chubby and with faint scars around her glasses, seemingly coming from her eyes. She is wearing a t-shirt, baggy jeans, and crocs with socks (though you can't see them.) She is grinning widely and holding her cane up in both hands across her body as though she is ready and eager to wack people with it. Next to her in the middle is Vriska, who is slightly taller and thinner, with a longer nose, and her expression makes her look like antagonistic, like she's laughing at someone meanly. Her robotic arm is adjusting her glasses while her other hand is on hip, and her stance is wide and confident. She is wearing her typical blazer, along with jeans that have rips and patches on them. The right lens of her glasses is augmented to make up for her missing eye. To the right of Vriska is Feferi, who is holding her trident behind her back and is leaning forward inquisitively. She appears excited and curious. Her long hair is wild and swept back from her forehead, where she has her heiress circlet. She is wearing a sleeveless shirt with several long necklaces, and an intricately shaped skirt that has two tails that drape behind her. She has on ankle bracelets and slippers. Freckles and moles are dotted all over her visible skin. End ID.]

[em1e]

⠀若年 // THIEVES AMONG US ⠀ ༝ ༝ wakatoshi ushijima ⠀ ༝ ༝ 1k words ⠀ ⚠︎ fluff to make up for the heartbreak i've been posting ⠀— ushijima is tired of having no hoodies left

ushijima wakatoshi was a lot of things. 

standing at a strong 189.5 cm, all muscle and intimidation to those who don’t know him. quiet and kind to those who do. 

patience is not something that ushiwaka finds himself lacking in the slightest. it’s actually one of the few things he prides himself in, tolerance for things at another level compared to others. on rare occasion does he find it wearing thin, and today seems to be one of those rarities. 

he’s looked everywhere for the stash of hoodies he keeps hidden in his room, locked away from your sticky fingers that manage to take home every other jumper, t-shirt, or jacket you can grab. as the days begin to get colder, leaves turning and falling off of their trees with fall turning to winter, he finds it necessary to have one of the few hoodies he has left under his roof before he goes out the door, and he cannot seem to find a single one. 

he almost wants to be amazed at how quickly you manage to grab them - unknowingly to his analytical eye, but frustration bleeds its way under his skin as he stands from looking under his bed for the third time. 

not in his closet, not shoved in the backs of his drawers, not even at the bottom his laundry hamper. poof, gone. disappeared into the wind with no evidence to prove they were ever there in the first place. 

ushijima heaves a sigh, pulling on his old, thin volleyball jacket with the decision of that needing to be enough. it’d have to be, with the fact of not having anything else to pull on over his long sleeve looming bitterly over his head. 

and to think you hate the color of his shiratorizawa jacket - now worn and dull compared to how it looked when he was still in high school. but, if he had to pick between your distaste for the jacket or be uncomfortably chilly for your date,  he’d choose the former. at least then, he can have some amount of satisfaction with being able to point out that you are the reason he’s been pushed to such measures. 

this bit of spite is enough to spur him on to your house to pick you up for your date. 

you looked excited when you pulled open the door, only for your face to drop and your nose to scrunch as you take in the sight of his jacket. faded purple clashing with the off-whitish-yellow shirt he’s decided to pair it with. 

“waka . . .” you almost whine as he steps inside so you can slide on your shoes, “we’re gonna take pictures, you don’t have any other jackets to wear?” 

“i think you know better than i do the answer to that.” the baritone of his voice cutting through you as you stand on your toes to press a quick kiss to his lips. it forms into a giggle when he returns it, leaving you to be the one to step away so you can finish getting ready. 

“‘m not sure what you mean,” you wave off easily, but you grab his hand to pull him towards your room so he doesn’t hover in the entryway while you put the final pieces of your outfit together, “can let you borrow one of mine, though.” 

he makes a noise, low in the back of his throat, that tells you he knows you mean one of the many you’ve robbed from him, but he doesn’t voice a complaint because even the short walk to your home was enough to leave goosebumps on his skin - his shiratorizawa jacket doing nothing to protect him from the elements. 

he watches as you grab a sweater of your own to pull over your shoulders, cute and matching the outfit you’ve picked perfectly, before getting on your knees beside your bed and pushing some stuff around under it, pulling out a large storage container with a huff. 

“don’t be upset,” you’re starting to say, popping open the lid and taking it off to reveal . . . every single hoodie he’s been missing in the past three years you’ve been dating. 

“how . . .” he starts, brows shooting up in shock before they furrow, “why?” 

“i like the way you smell,” you pout, puffing out your cheeks to fight the heat rising to them as you avoid his stare to dig through the tub, “s’nice for when you’re out of town for games.” 

you pull out one of the neatly folded hoodies you’d been searching for. a sage green that goes well with your own outfit and the shirt he’s got on. 

you offer it to him with a grin, “i can let you borrow this one, but i’ll need it back.” you say matter-of-factly, pulling it back to yourself when he doesn’t say anything to the comment, “i need confirmation you’ll give it back!” 

you have the audacity to look serious right now. deadly so, as if your life may be on the line without this very hoodie. 

“i’ll give it back.” he affirms, “but i need at least three back if you don’t want to ever see me in this jacket again.” he gestures to the worn jacket he’s began to pull off his shoulders, offering it to you in exchange for the green one still being held hostage in your hands. 

your eyes flick from the shiratorizawa jacket to the container at your feet. thinking. calculating. 

“fine,” you hold the hoodie out to him, “but i get to pick which ones.” 

he pulls the hoodie over his head, just barely catching the way your eyes eat at the portion of his abs that shows when his shirt rides up. he grins, “i’ll take that.”

[dira333]

Your name on my skin - Shinsou x Reader

A/N: What your soulmate writes appears on your skin - requested by @bookishgalaxies

It happens during Homeroom.

One second he’s trying not to fall asleep as Aizawa drones on about the importance of good defense - his metal leg clicking every time he moves around - the next his arm tickles like a horde of ants is dancing on it.

He scratches it, but the tickling doesn’t stop.

Annoyed, Shinsou pulls the sleeve up, only to reel black at the sight. There, on the pale skin of his arm, appears black ink, one letter after the other as if a ghost is writing it.

He’s not an idiot. He knows what that means. 

Well, he doesn’t really know what that means, because where other people’s soulmates write a “Hello?” or introduce themselves by name, his soulmate’s first message is…  E = σ / ε = (F/A)?

Shinsou blinks down at his arm. It’s only the comforting sound of Aizawa’s voice that drones on that keeps him grounded. 

Behind him, someone clears his throat. 

“Hitoshi,” a voice whispers. When he turns around, Izuku is blinking up at him with wide green eyes. He looks both worried and delighted simultaneously, which is a common enough occurrence.

“Can I see?” Izuku asks and Shinsou blinks to the front where Aizawa has taken a seat, eyes most definitely closed for a quick nap. 

“Sure,” he tips his chair back and offers his arm. In a matter of seconds, multiple eyes are on him. 

He’s not the first person this has happened to. Sato’s got a cute soulmate in first grade who blushes every time they come across each other in the hallways. Her first message on his arm was a doodle of his name with a heart around it. 

Fumikage refuses to give out any information about his soulmate but regularly shows off the artwork they’ve created on their skin. Elaborate drawings or silly little doodles mark his skin each day.

And then there’s Bakugo, who’s started wearing long sleeves, barking at everyone who asks if he wants to shed a layer. 

It doesn’t take long for his arms to be absolutely littered with formulas. At least he thinks they’re supposed to be formulas. T = F x r x sin(θ) and P (1 + r/n)(nt) - P, F = m x a and p = eoA(T⁴ - Tc⁴). Izuku has managed to identify quite a few, rambling on about what they mean but Shinsou’s mind can’t follow, too busy trying to wrap itself around the fact that he’s got a soulmate. 

There’s less than a minute left, the coming break looming over him - they’re all going to ask him about it, crowd his table like they did last week with Denki - as he uncaps a pen and scribbles in some of the few spaces left untouched.

“Hello, please use a notebook, I’m running out of skin.”

The sensation stops immediately. His skin starts stinging right above his wrist and when the ink there starts to bleed he realizes. They must have tried to rub it off, saliva probably included.

He writes another line.

“Don’t worry about it.”

Shinsou knows, as he’s writing it, that he will get shit for that nonchalant tone. And he’s right.

But it’s not Mina, or Momo, or even Jirou who convinces him that he needs to adopt a different tone when talking to his soulmate. It’s Bakugo.

-

Bakugo’s arms are littered with poetry. 

The other boy pulls his shirt back on so fast that Shinsou can’t make out much. But he’s seen enough. In every other verse, there are little hearts dotting the i’s. The poems are written in two distinctly different types of handwriting, one of them he’s familiar with. 

“So you’re writing poetry?” Shinsou asks, because why shouldn’t he? 

Bakugo dragged him into his room for a reason and he’s pretty sure he knows what it is. 

After all, Shinsou’s Soulmate has been quiet, not a single drop of ink appearing on his skin ever since. 

“They’re just as scared as we are,” Bakugo huffs, unusually quiet and unable to make eye contact. “You should keep that in mind.”

He doesn’t say any more, pushes him out of his room with a glare that speaks volumes, but Shinsou’s always prided himself in being quick on the uptake.

If the Bakugo Katsuki can learn to write poetry for someone else, he could probably start with an apology. 

-

p = eoA(T⁴ - Tc⁴) is written neatly on the inside of his right arm. 

Shinsou uncaps a pen with his teeth and drags it over the other arm, the still untouched skin. He’d been thinking about this for weeks now, maybe even longer if he’s being honest with himself. 

The year is coming to an end. He’s got a job lined up after graduation and even though they haven’t been able to properly secure an apartment yet, he knows he’s going to share a flat with Denki for a while, maybe even Sero if they can find one big enough. 

He knows what his future is going to be like, with or without you and he even knows who you are, because he’s too curious and too good at solving riddles for his own good. 

Shinsou halts, pen hovering over his skin. 

He knows that you like him. You’ve told him so, multiple times. 

But it’s different to like someone on the other end of a cosmic connection, not knowing what they look like or knowing their reputation. 

The bullying might have stopped, but the scars have not yet faded.

Somewhere in the hallway a door falls closed, the sound loud enough to make him flinch. 

The cold wetness of ink tells him that he moved too suddenly. Now there’s a smear of ink across his arm and he sighs. Well… he might as well commit to it, now that he started.

“I like you too,” he writes, in the direct way you said you liked about him, “And my name is Shinsou Hitoshi. I’m in your year but in Class 3A.”

His skin prickles, but there’s no immediate response.

He’s learned your schedule, more by following the notes you leave on your - and therefore his skin, and you should be free right now.

Every second that ticks by is torture. But he stares down at his skin and waits.

He’s not sure how long it takes you to answer. He’s too scared to look up from his skin and miss it to check his watch.

Someone knocks softly on his door.

“I’m busy,” he calls out, fully expecting Midoriya.

“How busy?” You ask back. 

His chair clatters to the ground as he rushes over.

You’re smiling at him when the door opens, a little out of breath maybe, fingers digging into the fabric of your uniform, fiddling with the hem of your blazer.

“Hi,” your smile turns mischievous. “Do you wanna go out?”

“With me?” He asks, like an idiot. But it’s hard to think with your eyes twinkling up at him like that. You might be related to Aoyama. 

“Who else?” You ask and stretch your hand out. 

Shinsou can see his name on your skin. Yeah, he thinks, who else?

[greg-montgomery]

omg can you write a little scenario about aaron and jack in the kitchen and aaron is telling jack eveything about you and you just watch and smile 😓 loving ivy so far btw!

this is the cutest thing ever!!! and thank you sm <3

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

“Why are we whispering?” Jack asked with a voice that could barely be heard, as he settled into his seat.

“I’ll explain,” Aaron answered in that same tone. “Did you have breakfast at aunt Jessica’s or do you want me to make you something?”

“I did, but I’d like some chocolate milk, please.”

Aaron smiled at his son’s politeness. “You got it.”

After serving him a large glass of chocolate milk, he sat on the chair next to him.

“We have to be quiet because someone is sleeping in our house,” he said.

“Who?” Jack asked, intrigued.

“Do you remember this girl I work with that I’ve told you is really, really pretty?” His expression was serious, making Jack feel as if he was confiding in him a huge secret.

“Of course I do, her name is Y/N!” he said, proud to have remembered it.

“That’s right. Well, she slept in our house last night.”

“What? You guys had a sleepover without me?” Jack’s mood switched from excited to disappointed in a matter of seconds.

“Don’t worry, buddy. We’re gonna have many sleepovers and you’ll get to be here too.”

“Is she in my room right now?” he questioned, fascinated by that mystery person. Aaron was sure that you were like a mythical creature in Jack’s mind.

“No,” he chuckled softly. “She’s sleeping in my bed, because your bed is so tiny,” he said, pinching Jack’s side making him giggle.

“Dad!”

“Okay, I’ll stop.” He raised his index finger at Jack. “But only because we need to be quiet.”

Jack took a big sip out of his milk that left him with a cute brown mustache. Before Aaron could say anything about it, he wiped it away with his sleeve.”

“Jack…”

“Sorry, I forgot.”

Aaron was in a way too good mood to care about having to remove the stain form his son’s white t-shirt.

“So, is she your girlfriend now?” Jack asked with a grin.

“She is,” he answered, his chest swelling from pride.

“Daddy has a girlfriend,” Jack sang with a mocking tone, and Aaron couldn’t help but join his giggles.

“Didn’t I say we need to be quiet?”

“Yes, but I want her to wake up so I can meet her,” he whined. “Do you think she’ll like me?”

“She’ll love you,” Aaron reassured him. “I talk to her about you a lot and she says you’re an angel.”

“She sounds so nice!”

“She is. She is nice and sweet and really funny too. I’m sure she’ll make you laugh all the time.” Aaron ran his fingers through Jack’s hair as he spoke. He really did believe you’d make Jack laugh a lot. And he deserved it; to giggle like all the kids his age.

“And you know what else?”

“What?” Jack’s brows were suddenly raised.

“Her favorite superhero is Spider-Man,” he whispered in his ear.

“Oh my God!” Jack jumped out of his chair and stood right next to Aaron’s. “I’ll ask her to play with me and watch all of his movies with me! Can we watch all of his movies together, daddy?”

“Of course we can,” a voice that wasn’t his or Jack’s said. “As long as we make some yummy popcorn to eat as we watch.”

“Y/N?!”

“Hi, sweet Jack!” you said, and bent your knees so you could be at his eye level.

“Hi!” he said, and ran into your arms.

You looked up at Aaron who was standing behind him, as you wrapped your arms around his son. The sweet smiles you sent to each other said without words, that the meeting you were so nervous about, was a success.

[thatsdemko]

extra credit - t.wolff

masterlist

requested: y

pairings: professor!toto wolff x college student!fem!reader

warnings: not intended for minors + mentions of making out + cliff hanger(there is no part two!) + the following acts are considered illegal/fireable + minor errors + lightly proofread!

a/n: I wrote this so fast the inspiration just hit me😅 please do not actually do this with your professor!!! feedback is always appreciated xx

《 the following content is not intended for minors. 》

failing. you’ve never in your life seen that big fat F in a grade book until you took toto wolffs class in sports team management. he was a tough grader, you knew that going into it, but you didn’t expect to see that letter taunting you.

you were swallowing your pride for the first time, you never needed extra credit in your life until this very moment. standing in front of his office, tail in between your legs as you knock on the door, feeling embarrassment and anxiety wash over you.

“come in,” you hear his thick Austrian accent from behind the door. you twist on the knob pushing it to reveal him behind the desk, glasses on the bridge of his nose and typical white button down shirt sleeves rolled. he looks hot, you have to admit.

and maybe that was your problem, you were too distracted by his good looks to even pay attention. you’re not the only one who feels this way, the girls beside you agreed he was attractive. it was hard to listen when his good looks got into the way.

“hi,” you breathe out hearing the door latch behind you. you slip your backpack off and take the empty seat across from him.

he removes his glasses from his nose and shuts down his computer, attention turning to you, “what can I do for you?” he leans back in his chair, arms crossing over his chest. he’s intimidating.

you sigh, heart rate increasing by the second, “I just want to know if there’s anything I can do to increase my grade? I know it’s a long shot.”

a smirk forms on his lips as he leans his elbow against the arm of the chair, fingers running over his chin, “there is something you can do.” he nods watching your eyes light up, a little blush forming on your cheeks, heat thickens against your forehead as you nod for more.

“help me grade papers for my introduction class. just for a couple of days I’ll gift you a B, sound fair?” he offers, watching you lean closer to the desk, hand over your chest as you thank him for this opportunity.

“you won’t regret it, I’ll do whatever you need.”

—

it’s after dark, most of the professors have gone home the only people in the offices are you and Toto silently grading papers.

it’s warm in his office, you’ve gotten rid of your sweatshirt leaving you in just your tight fit crop top t-shirt. he’s sporting the same look he always does, rolled up sleeves, button up white dress shirt. he looks handsome, as usual but he can’t help it, looking up at you.

“what did you think of the last lecture?” he asks, deciding to fill the silence that surrounds you. he watches you look up from the paper you’re reading, big eyes full of youth that he just wants to swallow.

“I thought it was good.” you whisper feeling him watch you as you sink back into reading. you’re having a hard time concentrating, maybe it’s that you feel those brown eyes on you or that you were just so nervous to be in his presence alone.

“did you? or were you too busy mentally undressing me?” he rests his elbow on his messy desk, papers scattered all over. you’re caught, sure every girl in that class has probably got that same lust in their eyes for him, he just so happens to pick you out from the crowd.

you swallow the nervous lump forming, laughter escaping from anxiety, “I-I did think it was good.”

your hesitation makes him move from his side of the desk. he closes the office door leaving you both trapped in the heat of his room, “I know you feel it too.” he bends down, hot minty breath rushing down your spine, chills spread across you.

“professor Wolff, that would be against the law—“

“not if they don’t find out.” he cuts you off, the paper in your lap gets thrown to the side, his index finger brushes the loose strains of your ponytail, “and it’s Toto. I don’t like professor Wolff.”

he sits on the edge of his desk, thick thighs nearly bursting out of his black slacks. he’s big, you can see that and it’s taking everything in you to try and remain calm. try and find that paper you’re reading, but your hands brush against his leg, he’s bending down, eyes closing his lips end up on yours.

“will that kiss get me an A?” you don’t want to pull away, his lips are soft yet firm, it’s everything you’ve dreamt of. you’re sure this is a dream, but when you sit down on your pencil and hear it crunch, you know it’s real.

“say what you want and I’ll give you an A.” he leans back in, and you close the gap, fingers raking through his shaggy brown hair. you don’t even know what you want, this kiss is just enough, you’d be embarrassed to ask for more.

“just this is fine.” you whisper in between breaths of the heated session, not only are you sweating from Toto’s grip against your hip, but you’re suddenly aware of the warmth in the room. that there’s no exit out of this.

“I know its not. say what you need.”

“you,” you moan against his lips, fingers pulling on the buttons that aren’t undone already, “I want you.”

“I’m yours, all yours.”

he shows you that, teeth nibbling on the skin of your neck, lips trailing down until he gets to your shoulder, the parts that aren’t exposed but he still finds a way to suck on the skin. his hands are undoing your bra, he’s a natural at the art of multitasking.

he’s almost got you on your feet, about to ride his thigh when the sound of the janitor outside his office comes into your ears. both of you pause hearing a knock, “mr. Wolff, you in there?”

he pushes you off of him, you’re trying to slow your breath down by chugging your water, as he cracks the door open, “it’s a late night, I apologize.” he makes small talk with the janitor for a moment, two of them bid their goodbyes and soon enough you head the vacuum running and the door is closed once more.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, y/n.”

“for what?” you ask, moving closer to his body that’s leaned up against the door, “you’re saying you don’t want to finish this?”

he chuckles, hand running over your cheek, “we will finish this extra credit tomorrow. I need more time with you.”

[donatellawritings]

can you write smut of richie going down on reader for the first time? i feel like he'd be so tender, hand holding, and def talk reader through it

explicit sexual content ahead

Richie Jerimovich loved the art of eating pussy - specifically, your pussy. It got him through some of his most draining days, it kept usually noisy and overworked psyche calm as it channeled its entire focus on one thing and one thing only, making you cum. You could tell that Richie had a bad day at work, wanting nothing more than to take his frustrations out on you.

He was wordless when he entered the front door of your stuffy apartment, hastily shaking his suit jacket off of his back, allowing it to carelessly fall to the floor. He’d texted you right before he clocked out of the restaurant, demanding that you’d be waiting for him, completely naked between the cold sheets of your shared bed. You understood and complied, knowing that he needed a release, your release.

Richie’s bright blue eyes met yours as he stepped into your shared bedroom, his gaze on you never wavering as he undid his tie with one hand, before tossing it on the dresser, rolling up the sleeves of his dress-shirt to the tan skin of his forearm. “Been waiting for this all fuckin’ day, sweetheart,” he rasped, walking over to the foot of your bed, his hands wrapping around your ankles.

“It’s okay, Richie, you have me,” you cooed, licking over your lips as Richie gently tugged you closer to the edge of the bed.

“Open your legs, baby, let me see that pretty fuckin’ pussy,” he ordered, his voice now husky and raw as you obliged.

Richie’s eyes hung low as he watched your legs spread. He let out a breath, lowering himself as he took in the slight glisten of your already-wet and inviting pussy. God, he needed to taste you on his tongue, so fucking bad.

Pressing a sloppy, open-mouthed kiss your sensitive and swollen centre, Richie made out with your slick folds, his tongue drooling lazily into you as he got lost in himself. Your sweet-tinge coated his tongue warmly as Richie swallowed. He needed more.

Wrapping his arms over the tops of your thighs, Richie roughly pulled you closer to him, pressing your legs against your chest as he leaned his face closer to your slippery pussy, nudging your clit with his nose as he licked long stripes up and down your pulsing entrance.

“Fuck, baby,” you moaned, craning your neck down as your eyes fell on Richie’s, watching with an opened mouth as he devoured you whole.

The taller man pulled away from you, maintaining a dead-set eye contact with you as he allowed a long line of his cum-mixed saliva to drip down to your pussy, the contact causing your back to arch off of the mattress.

“Fuck me,” Richie groaned, before returning his head to its rightful spot between your thighs, sliding one of his long and slender arms up your abdomen, a hum leaving his lips and vibrating against your pulsing core as your fingers interlocked with his.

Pressing a wet and noisy kiss to your clit, Richie gazed up at you, a smirk tugging on his lips as your fingers tightened around his, “look at me, beautiful, god, you’re so fuckin’ wet,” he teased mockingly, not missing the way your abdomen end tightened as menacingly pressed his tongue against your throbbing entrance.

Your head fell back against the soft push of your pillows, a low whimper crying out from your throat as Richie pushed his tongue inside of you, before pulling out just as quickly.

“Fuck, y’gonna cum so fuckin’ hard, right baby?” He rasped, licking ha long strip of saliva from your taint, up t your clit - repeating this over and over until you reached your free hand down to his short hair, pushing his face deeper into you needy pussy.

Now cocky and prideful, Richie pushed his tongue in and out of your tight hole, rubbing his rough beard against your sensitive folds as he moved his head up and down.

“Don’t fucking stop, please bab-”

Your hips, now having a mind of their own, rolled against Richie’s face as you craved friction, fighting to bring yourself to the delicious climax that awaited you. The warmth of Richie’s tongue, the cutting sting of his facial hair against your tender skin, the smooth slickness of his spit drooling onto you - fuck, you were so close.

“Come on, baby, fuck,” Richie pressed himself deeper, his eyes watching as you lost yourself your back arched, nipples hardened, and breathing choppy, “You’re doing so good baby, so fuckin’ good.”

Richie feverishly lapped at you, the sight of you chasing your orgasm, almost being enough to bring himself to cum as he grabbed ahold of your hips, grinding them against his tongue as you craned your neck back with a hoarse cry.

“Fuck, Richie fuck-“ you cried out, warm tears running down your cheeks.

The sweet-tang of your cum oozed onto Richie’s tongue, a satisfied hum now flowing out of his lips as he greedily drank you, lapping every ounce of your cum that leaked out of you, “Jesus fuckin’ Christ, let it go, sweetheart,” he coaxed, his licks becoming slower and softer as you came down from your overwhelming high.

Pulling his face away from you, Richie ran a hand over his beard, a low chuckle, his eyes taking in the way his fingers were covered in your cum and his spit.

You remained laid on the bed, your breathing now slowly evening out as you swallowed thickly, struggling to speak as you stared at the ceiling.

You were so fucked out, without him properly fucking you, and that brought a cocky smile to Richie Jerimovich’s wet lips.

Unbuttoning his dress-shirt entirely, Richie walked over to where you laid, resting one of his hands on your waist as he leaned down, pressing a sweet and warm kiss to your lips, softly sliding his tongue against yours, he always loved when you’d taste yourself.

You pulled away with a drunken smile and heavy eyelids.

“I fuckin’ needed that, thank you,” he mumbled, pecking your lips a few times, his rough hand soothing the side of your waist.

“Glad I could help,” you smiled.

[thesimulationswarm]

Double Shot

Joel Miller x f!reader x Tommy Miller

Pairing: pre-outbreak!Joel Miller x f!AFAB!reader x Tommy Miller Rating: explicit, 18+ MDNI Summary: A gorgeous man walks into your coffee shop and introduces himself as Tommy Miller. Then his equally gorgeous brother shows up. You can't decide which you like better... but maybe you don't have to. A/N: This will be in four parts, building up to the smut. Hopefully released daily. It's dumb filthy shit I couldn't get out of my head, okay? Then I'll be back to my ongoing serious series. Word count: 1.5k warnings/tags: threesome, shameless flirting, sibling rivalry, PWP

Part 2 , Part 3, and Part 4 are available now.

Part 1

“It’s going to be another hot one out there today folks— topping out at 105 this afternoon. Remember to drink lots of water, stay in the shade, and of course, wear sunscreen!” The opening beats of Everybody’s Free (To Wear Sunscreen) followed, and you whacked the radio off in annoyance.

You were sick of this summer. Sick of the record-setting heatwave. Sick of the shitty little building you’d found for your coffee shop, which had seemed so cozy in February but turned out to have the world’s lowest-output air conditioner. Sick of sweat staining through your t-shirt as you worked the morning rush.

You were proud of your business, sure. You’d started from nothing and managed to get it off the ground. Now you had a steady clientele that came for their morning coffee but also for your homemade pastries— your pride and joy. But to keep things afloat you worked like a dog. And this summer was killing you.

The flow of customers finally let up for a minute and you sat on your stool, leaning into the breeze from the countertop fan. 

You let your eyes flutter closed, dreaming about the ice cold Lone Star you’d have when you finished tonight. You could almost feel the condensation on the can as you pulled it from the fridge, could hear the crack and hiss of it opening…

You just about jumped out of your skin when the front door flew open, chime tinkling.

“Sorry to interrupt. Looks like a well-earned break, sugar.”

The man standing in the doorway was tall, bronze-skinned, with thick dark curls tumbling around his face. His biceps were visible below the sleeves of his gray t-shirt, his thumbs hooked on the belt loops of his jeans as he stared at you. He was smirking, and then— when you met his eyes— he fucking winked at you.

You raised your eyebrow at him. “It was, as a matter of fact.  Been at it since 5am. But what can I do for you?”

The man ambled over to the counter, inspecting the chalkboard menu on the wall. “Well, I heard this is the best place in the neighborhood to get a coffee and a little breakfast. And I’m going to need both to start my day.”

He ordered an iced latte, double shot, and one of your cinnamon buns. You set to work preparing them, only too aware of his eyes on you as you moved behind the counter. You got a lot of flirts in here, men looking for a little ego boost on their way to work, and for the most part you didn’t mind—as long as they don’t take it too far.

There are times, though, when it’s not just about not minding.

Times when you decidedly enjoy the attention.

And this would be one of those, because this man is fucking gorgeous.

You feel your hips swaying more than usual, and you wish you’d worn something more alluring than jeans and an old t-shirt. At least this pair of jeans does a good job of highlighting your ass, especially now that the denim is clinging to your sweaty skin.

“So is this a summer job, or do you work here year round?”

“Honey, I don’t work here. I’m the co-owner,” you reply, whipping around to set his drink down in front of him. You were vaguely aware of the door chime tinkling as another customer walked in, but at that moment you only had eyes for this one.

The man let out a low whistle. “A business owner and a beauty? Color me impressed.” He leaned forward against the counter, looking around at the pastry case, the neat racks of cups, the espresso machine.  From this distance you could appreciate his freckles, like a dusting of brown sugar over his sculpted face. “You know, I’m in business myself.”

“That so?”

He held out a hand to you and broke into a wide smile. It was dazzling. “Tommy Miller, of Miller Construction.”

You were about to shake hands with the beautiful Tommy Miller when you were both interrupted. The customer you’d been ignoring had materialized at his side, and smacked him— hard— on the arm.

“Tommy, quit your bullshit!”

“Jesus, Joel, I’m in the middle of somethin’ here!”

You watched with interest as the two turned to face each other. The second man— Joel, apparently— was about his same height, but looked a little broader through the shoulders and a little older. He had a strong jaw, painted dark with stubble, and an impressive mustache. 

Jesus Christ, it was hot enough in here already.

“You’re in the middle of wastin’ precious time, is what you are,” Joel scoffed, before turning to you. “I’m sorry about my brother, ma’am. He thinks he’s god’s gift to the ladies.”

You laughed, looking from one man to the other. You could appreciate similarities now— the dark curls, the strong but trim bodies, the deep eyes you could get lost in.

“And you should know,” Joel added, “It is Miller Construction, but I am the sole proprietor. Tommy here works for me.” Then he held out a hand across the counter, with a close-lipped smile that was less flashy than Tommy’s but no less devastating. “Joel Miller. Of Miller Construction.”

Tommy glared daggers at his brother as you reached across to shake. Joel’s big hand swallowed yours, his grip firm and warm. You felt something electric go down your spine, the hairs standing up on your arms.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Joel,” you said, looking into his rich brown eyes. Then you turned, and held out your hand again. “And it’s a pleasure to meet you, too, Tommy.”

Tommy’s hand was smaller than Joel’s by just a hair, but it was softer, too. You looked at Tommy as you shook, but out of the corner of your eye you could still see Joel— watching you touching Tommy.

The dampness you were feeling between your legs— it wasn’t just sweat anymore.

It was mid-afternoon and the cafe had started to feel like the ninth circle of hell. There weren’t many customers after lunch, so you used that time to work on baking for the next morning. The problem was the ovens, which put out way more heat than your crappy little AC could counter. You had about 30 minutes left before you could pack it in for the day, but you thought you might just spontaneously combust if you stayed inside.

So you grabbed a paperback and a cold coke from the drink case, and went outside. Your place was on the corner of a little strip mall in South Austin, and it bordered on a gravel lot with food trucks and picnic tables. Everything was closed up this time of day, but that was all the better to have a quiet moment to yourself.

The sun was fucking brutal, but you sat in the shade of a live oak, and you could feel a little breeze lifting the hairs on the back of your neck.

You looked around at the sun-baked street, watching people come and go. Mostly in cars in this heat, but some brave souls were walking or on bikes. Next door, a work crew was taking a break from the building frame they’d been erecting. You watched the men downing gatorades and wetting bandanas to tie around their necks. Now that was a tough job on a summer day.

Then you noticed something.

Off to the side was a makeshift table, papers spread across a piece of plywood balanced on two saw horses. Two broad figures stood beside it, looking down.

Joel and Tommy.

This was goddamn Miller Construction.

You knew you shouldn’t spy, but you couldn’t help watching. The brothers looked deep in conversation— Joel with his arms folded across his chest, Tommy with his head tilted to one side. Tommy pointed to something; Joel nodded, and then pulled a pencil out from behind his ear to note something down. Tommy said something else and Joel shook his head, tapped his finger on one of the papers emphatically.

Both men, taken separately, were impressive items. But when they were together, Christ almighty. There was something magical in their practiced ease, their good-natured jockeying for dominance. You couldn’t pick just one to admire.

You heard your oven timer go off inside the cafe, and you reluctantly peeled your eyes away from Miller Construction to head back inside. You hummed along with the radio as you checked on your croissants, suddenly a lot less annoyed by the interminable summer.  With their building site right next door, you ought to be seeing a lot more of the Miller brothers.  You were going to make the most of it.

[handjawab]

bullying tw

Note: This is heavily inspired by that scene with Flash Thompson and Peter Parker in the Amazing Spider Man movie.

bully!Bakugou who is self-aware...

He says the worst possible things to you regularly and is an expert at making you feel like shit. He prides himself in knowing what buttons to push and exactly when to push them to make you feel like you don't deserve to take up space. As a result, he's attentive so when you're hurting and it's not because of him, he's the first to notice. And he's... weird about it.

You've been moping around all day and Bakugou's just decided he's going to get to the bottom of it, "Oi. What the hell's wrong with you?"

You ignore him.

"Don't fucking ignore me. You know that just makes it worse."

"I'm just not in the mood today, Katsuki. Please."

"When are you ever in the mood, huh?"

'okay that's it," you get up and leave the room. He follows you. Because of course he does.

When you get to your class, he sits down right next to you and watches intently as you get your books out of your bag.

As the minutes pass, his presence starts to weigh on you. It was already difficult to breathe today, but he makes it worse. But you knew that; He never makes anything easier.

Before you fully realise what you're doing, you turn around, slap him across the face, and ask, "What the hell do you want from me?"

For a fraction of a second, a flash of murderous intent crosses his features but then his mouth opens slightly in what you assume is surprise and he puts a palm to his cheek, where you slapped him.

A couple seconds later, he relaxes his face, the corners of his mouth raising up slightly, "There we go... There she is," he coos, never taking his eyes off you.

You're stressed out and overwhelmed and you're tired of his shit (what's new). And the tears start streaming down your face. Because of course they do.

You're so fucking predictable and now you've slapped him.

Sure, he deserved it. But not today. You can't deal with another thing today.

You wipe at the tears violently, like you're trying to push them back into your eyes, anticipating what usually comes next: some wise-crack about you crying.

But he doesn't say anything. He just pulls your hands away from your face gently, like he's afraid he might break you.

He holds them away from your face and watches you struggle against yourself to collect your bearings. The tears don't fucking stop.

The scrutiny burns. He just stares at you. Expressionless. You should feel vulnerable but it feels like he's the vulnerable one in this situation — letting you see a version of him that's neither angry nor pissing you off.

He drops your hands and wipes the tears off your face with the sleeves of his t-shirt (futile action because they keep coming afterwards) and says, "do you want to skip class?"

You take a deep, ragged breath to avoid sounding shaky when you say, "yeah, that'd be nice"

He holds your hand like he's afraid to lose you in the crowd when he walks you through the corridors to an empty classroom.

"Sit down"

You don't react so he sighs and sits you down on a chair himself.

"and- stop crying for fuck's sake," he almost looks sheepish.

For some reason, you cry harder. You can't help it. You're hurting. He's being... strange and it's perplexing.

He rakes a frustrated hand through his hair leans back in his chair, and says, "okay. You have the floor. Cry. However long you need to."

[blurredcolour]

The Witch of November

Summary: Jake and Bradley’s second deployment has you discovering a lot of things about yourself, including just how much the two men mean to you. Or When The Three Of You Realized What You Were.

Part of my Poly Hangster Universe. Read Part One - In Search Of Obliteration

Pairing: Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw x Jake “Seresin” Hangman x Female Reader [Hangster x Female Reader Polyamorous Relationship]

Warning: Angst, Mental Health Struggles, Nightmares, Lack of Appetite, Insomnia, Nail Biting, Stress-Induced Weight Loss, Anxiety, Unhealthy Coping Strategies, Difficult Discussions of Feelings, Rating – T.

Credit: Paramount Pictures

Word Count: 5120

The oldies playlist filled the quiet emptiness of the primary bedroom as you worked on folding the last of Bradley’s shirts into the storage tote. It was a poor replacement for the usual sounds of life that filled Jake and Bradley’s home, conversation, laughter, activity, but the songs from the 60s and 70s brought a continuity in their absence.

You smiled softly as you pulled another of his father’s tropical button-up shirts from the drawer, taking extra care as you folded the sleeves down the back, barely registering the song change to Gordon Lightfoot’s The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald.

The legend lives on from the Chippewa on down Of the big lake they call Gitche Gumee The lake, it is said, never gives up her dead When the skies of November turn gloomy With a load of iron ore twenty-six thousand tons more Than the Edmund Fitzgerald weighed empty That good ship and true was a bone to be chewed When the gales of November came early

It was difficult to fathom the next four months without them. They’d had two weeks’ notice – fourteen days to prepare you for the face that they were being deployed for sixteen weeks at sea. It was not their first deployment since your meeting at the liquor store. Not long after that dream-like night you had spent with them, followed by the sun-drenched afternoon spent with their squad in the sundress they had ordered via Postmates, their colleagues too polite to pry at their flimsy introduction of you as a ‘new neighbour’, they had left for ten days.

At the time you’d had no more than a superficial understanding of their profession. Of the peril in which they put themselves on a daily basis – even more so during missions. A few emails had been exchanged between the three of you then but before you even really had a chance to miss them, they had shown up with your apartment bearing take out. The outcome had been four orgasms and a noise complaint.

The ship was the pride of the American side Coming back from some mill in Wisconsin As the big freighters go, it was bigger than most With a crew and good captain well seasoned

This time, however, everything was different. Nearly six-months into your relationship – well, for starters you felt confident calling it that. Perhaps the three of you could have done a better job defining things, but they had given you a key to their house, and you had a toothbrush that lived in the cup with theirs in the ensuite bathroom. Spending most weekends, and the occasional weeknight there, you had successfully avoided another noise complaint and fallen into a very natural rhythm with them.

So, when their orders had arrived, it had been a rather rude awakening. An intrusion in the happy idyll your trio had built, but not altogether unexpected. You’d done a remarkable job convincing Jake, Bradley, and even yourself that you would be all right; that they had no reason to worry about you. And when they decided to once again use a property management company and put their home up for short term rental in their absence? You’d also convinced them to save some money and let you take that on for them.

After all, you had a key and the time, it would be no issue for you to finish packing their things away into the garage and then stop in to clean between rentals. Concluding some terms with a couple of steel firms When they left fully loaded for Cleveland And later that night when the ship's bell rang Could it be the north wind they'd been feeling The wind in the wires made a tattle-tale sound And a wave broke over the railing And every man knew, as the captain did too ‘Twas the witch of November come stealing

You snapped the lid shut on the tote, grabbing your phone and tucking it into your pocket, letting the song continue to play as you carried the last load down the stairs and into the garage. Sliding the box into place, your eyes scanned over the stacks of totes and racks of garment bags – two lives tidily packed away, on hold.

The words of the song, now slightly muffled by the fabric of your pants yet still audible, began to register in your brain and you pulled your phone from your pocket to hear them better. Unbidden, the images sung by the folk singer of a horrific storm began to flood your mind. A helpless ship filled with mortal men dwarfed by the fury of nature.

Two men, who meant a great deal more to you than you had the nerve to put into words as they wolfed down their breakfast that morning, in a vast ocean. How easily they could not return – swept aside by a cruel wave, attacked by a wrathful nation, or eliminated by something so utterly mundane as human error. How easily you could be putting their things away for the very last time.

The unwelcome thoughts tore through your consciousness and had you stumbling back into the door frame that connected the garage to the rest of the house, gasping for breath as tears blurred your vision. The sheer cruelty of your mind, parading the worst possible outcomes through your brain in vivid detail, had you pressing a hand to the centre of your chest, trying to calm your racing heart. You felt sick and acutely alone in a house that was suddenly much too spacious, listening to a song that was far too gloomy.

“Good god, get a grip girl.” You snarled tearfully at yourself before barking a laugh that even you would have to admit rang hollow against the concrete floor.

Shaking your head viciously to clear the morbid thoughts of peril at sea from your head, as though it were an etch-a-sketch needing to be reset, you turned your rush of desperate energy toward skipping the last of the song. Inhaling deeply through your nose as the much more upbeat Surfin’ USA by the Beach Boys took over.

“Better…It’s just day one…. You’ve got this…” You wiped at a few rogue tears that had stolen down your cheeks before doing one last check that everything was stored properly, locking up the garage and heading back into the house to finish cleaning.

One hour – and many deliberate song choices – later, you finished mopping your way out of the house, turning off the lights as you went. Setting up a door code for the guests set the arrive the next day, you headed home near ten, finding it surprisingly easily to fall asleep. The dawn came late and the breakfast had to wait When the gales of November came slashing When afternoon came it was freezing rain In the face of a hurricane west wind When suppertime came, the old cook came on deck saying “Fellas, it's too rough to feed ya” At seven PM a main hatchway caved in, he said “Fellas, it's been good to know ya”

The problem reared its head once more in the inky blackness of the night, rain and saltwater lashing your face, stinging your eyes. You could hear Jake and Bradley screaming for you, their voices carried on the wind from opposite directions, impossible to pinpoint no matter how you twisted your body this way and that.

Something unseen collided forcefully with your body, plunging you into a dark, icy sea. You clawed futilely through the water, unable to discern up from down, left from right, as your lungs began to burn with the need for breath.

You thrashed yourself awake from your nightmare, fumbling with the switch on your bedside lamp, desperate for light to dispel the murk of the freezing water, movements still filled with the frenetic energy of a drowning victim. At last, the incandescent bulb clicked on, flooding the room with warm light, reminding you that you were in your bed…. safe….

But Jake and Bradley…. heaven only knew where they were. You hugged your knees to your chest and choked out a sob, feeling just as useless as you had in your dream. They could be screaming your name right now and there was absolutely nothing you could do to help them. In your weakened state, you were utterly defenseless against the onslaught of tears, so you simply turned your head to smother your ragged sobs into the plush of your pillow – not wanting to risk a noise complaint over this of all things.

The captain wired in he had water coming in And the good ship and crew was in peril And later that night when his lights went out of sight Came the wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald

Terror and theoretical grief and something that you still stubbornly refused to name despite all evidence to its confirmation wrung every last tear from your body until your eyelids were swollen and heavy with irritation. Pulling your exhausted frame from the tangle of sheets and sodden pillows, you trudged to the bathroom to rinse your face, wincing at the person staring back at you in the mirror.

You had done such a good job of convincing Jake and Bradley, of convincing yourself, that you would be all right in their absence, that this sudden burden of anxiety and gut-wrenching fear felt like a betrayal to your own self. You were an adult. You understood what it meant to date a Navy man. Yet here you were, crying your eyes out about things you had absolutely no control over. Over things you were proud of your boys for doing.

So whatever selfish childishness had suddenly possessed you, it had to be quashed with brutal efficiency. It would be wildly unfair for either of them to even sense that you were struggling and the simplest solution to that was you just had to stop it right now. Despite the ruthless glare you were delivering yourself in the glass of the bathroom mirror, however, that traitorous body of yours had somehow found the wherewithal to produce fresh tears to send rolling down your hot cheeks.

“Fuck…” you croaked, sinking your face into your hands.

Does anyone know where the love of God goes When the waves turn the minutes to hours

Three weeks, two days, and five hours. Despite sending them an email every day, you did not hear from Jake or Bradley for three weeks, two days, and five hours after they left you at their house that morning. It was more than enough time for your nightmare to bloom into full grown neurosis.

Stern pep-talks in the mirror were a non-starter, so you began addressing the inevitable sleep issues with melatonin gummies. And when those produced nearly every side-effect on the bottle? Over-the-counter pain killers. The terror still managed to find you, however, even in your chemically enhanced sleep, and a set of dark circles took root beneath your eyes. Your make-up kit expanded, and your routine became longer to hide them.

You threw yourself into your job, desperately trying to fill every waking moment with activity, treading water above the yawning darkness of dread that lay just below the surface. Between overtime hours and managing Jake and Bradley’s house as a rental – cleaning between renters and being on call for any issues that may pop up – you had little time for socializing. Which suited you just fine, because you knew those who cared about you would see through your thinly veiled disguise of make-up and busyness and you were most certainly not ready for a real conversation about what was going on.

You were idly nipping at a hangnail on your index finger as you reviewed a client’s file when your phone buzzed with an email notification and you gasped audibly when their names popped up, making your co-worker shoot you an inquisitive glance.

“Sorry…” You whispered with a wince, scooping the phone off your desk and diving into your email app to read through their joint reply four times before finally exhaling in relief.

They were well. They were tired, but they were alive and missed you and appreciated your emails. You hugged your phone to your chest, not caring how dramatic it might look to your already suspicious colleague, a few tears of joy gathering along your lower lashes.

The searchers all say they'd have made Whitefish Bay If they'd put fifteen more miles behind her They might have split up or they might have capsized They may have broke deep and took water

The relief that one email brought was short-lived, affording one, maybe two good nights of sleep before you were plunged back into your cycle of agony. Your stomach grew averse to, and disinterested in, all food save your favourite ice cream, and after throwing out your fourth meal-prepped lunch you surrendered to its demands and proceeded to subsist entirely upon cartons of that.

You lost weight. Everyone seemed eager to tell you how good you looked as a result of it, which only seemed to twist the knife that had taken up residence between your ribs a little tighter. The circles beneath your eyes grew darker and your make-up kit expanded yet again. With all that you were juggling, you somehow failed to notice that you had chewed your nails raw – a self-soothing technique thoroughly acknowledged by the scientific community, but an action you remained blind to.

There were more email replies, with the promise of some possible phone connectivity in the coming weeks, but you were entirely immune to joy now…feeling not unlike a hollowed-out shell of yourself, filled with the black and white static of a television station that lost its signal.

And all that remains is the faces and the names Of the wives and the sons and the daughters

You were fighting with the first corner of the fitted sheet on the primary bed, the bed the three of you usually shared, when your phone started ringing with an unknown number. Releasing the stubborn fabric, you let the elastic spring back into place, mattress frustratingly bare as you picked up.

“Hello?” You answered, expecting it to be the couple slated to arrive tomorrow afternoon.

“Pretty girl, holy shit it’s so good to hear your voice.” Rooster’s rasped statement hit you like a physical blow to the chest, and you stumbled to a seat on the bed.

“Bradley?” Your voice waivered pathetically and you cleared your throat painfully. “Hey! Hey, it’s so lovely to hear yours.” You continued in a much sunnier, confident tone, scouring the tears from your eyes roughly with the heel of your palm.

He sighed your name warmly, but you did not miss the exhaustion that coloured his tone.

“Fuck, I am so sorry it’s taken this long to be able to call, I swear to god I’ve never been on communications blackout this long before. Everything ok?”

“Just great, well…I miss you both so much, but the rentals are running smoothly and work’s going fine, and the weather never changes here so I don’t have any complaints.” You were sure to smile, just like they taught you at work, so the happy tone would carry through the phone line. “You guys doing all right?”

“We are, you perfect woman, we are. Jake’s right here, falling asleep against the wall. Let me pass him the phone.”

There was some muffled scrambling against the receiver before Jake drawled your name, sounding even more exhausted than Bradley.

“Hey Jake, how’re you doing? You showing them all who’s the best?” You forced a grin, hoping to give him extra encouragement by stroking his ego.

“You know it, pretty girl. Me ‘n Rooster here are kicking all their asses…You promise to be extra desperate for us when we get home?”

You mustered a giggle for him, extremely thankful it was only a phone call so you could keep your expressions to yourself.

“You know it, Hungman…”

“Jesus Christ, I miss you…”

“Three weeks, Jake…” Not that you were counting, or anything.

“I can barely keep my eyes open pretty girl, I’m so sorry, I can’t wait to see you.”

“It’s ok Jake, please go get some rest, ok? I’ll see you soon.”

He murmured his goodbyes before Rooster came back on the line.

“Hey pretty girl, I’m not much longer for this world either.”

“I really appreciate you two taking the time to call me. I’ll see you both in three weeks.”

“Three weeks…” He sighed heavily. “I’ll try and email you our docking time and text you when we’re in the car ok?”

You had offered, initially, to drive them. To drop them off and pick them up, but the process for obtaining a pass was a lengthy one and though, none of you admitted it out loud, would have involved defining your relationship on paper. And so, they had departed in Jake’s pick-up truck, which was still waiting for them on base.

“Do what you can, have a good sleep, Bradley.”

“Night, pretty girl.”

You both stayed on the line a moment, listening to one another breathe, before he finally disconnected the call and you dissolved into tears as you sank onto the rug beside the bed.

Lake Huron rolls, Superior sings In the rooms of her ice water mansion Old Michigan steams like a young man's dreams The islands and bays are for sportsmen

With the final rental checked out, you had a week to put their house back together before Jake and Bradley returned home. You had been careful to write down where things had come from so that you could return them to their rightful place. You took to sleeping at their home so that when the inevitable nightmares or overthinking arrived, three am companions you had grown so very accustomed to over the past four months, you could simply roll out of bed and continue unpacking for them.

True to his word, Bradley managed to email you, letting you know they would be returning that Sunday morning. By Saturday noon, the house was in order, and you made a trip to the grocery store to stock their fridge so they could take it easy their first few days back. You made a special trip to their favourite bakery for some treats, as well, and when you ran out of things to do you went out and walked the beach. Your body was a sharp contrast of fatigue and nervous energy, everything inside you was screaming out for rest but your mind would simply not allow it to.

Your melatonin gummies only afforded you three hours of sleep that night, leaving you pacing about the house like a zombie until the last of it cleared your system. You showered and put on your makeup, carefully ensuring the dark circles were covered. You put on one of their favourite dresses, hoping they wouldn’t notice that it was a little looser on you than before. Or perhaps, like everyone else, they would applaud your new figure.

Setting up the coffee, you held-off starting the brew cycle, waiting for the text to arrive from Bradley that they were on their way home from the base, wanting it to be as fresh as possible. You nearly jumped out of your skin as your phone vibrated with the notification, sliding off your seat at the island and pressing start button before doing one last circuit of the house, unable to sit down.

You were just setting out their favourite mugs on the stone countertop when you heard the engine of Jake’s truck pull into the driveway, rushing to open the front door. Bradley was halfway up the walk when you yanked it open, covering the last of the distance in two long strides before bending his knees to hoist you up into a bone-crushing hug. You squealed as in his excitement, or perhaps his misjudgement of your weight, you shot up higher than expected. Jake laughing brightly as he jogged over, wrapping his arms around both of you tightly as Bradley set your feet back on the concrete walkway.

Nestling your face between their bodies, you inhaled deeply, fingers curling into the fabric of their clothing as you savoured the fact that they were present, they were real, they were alive. Jake shifted back and hooked a finger beneath your chin, coaxing your face up. You smiled at him tremulously, blinking back tears as he leaned in to press his lips to yours firmly. Sighing deeply into the kiss, your fingers sought Bradley’s curls, sinking your fingers into his hair affectionately as he patiently waited his turn, his hands running along your sides, massaging your hip, your butt.

Gasping against Jake’s lips as Rooster’s hand gave a particularly greedy squeeze, you pulled back to press your lips to his, a shiver rolling through your entire body at the feel of his facial hair against your upper lip.

“You wore our favourite dress, pretty girl…” You heard Jake murmur against your shoulder, his fingers toying with the hem. “Mmmm we should get you inside before the neighbours get jealous.”

Reluctantly, you allowed them to pull back and gather their things from the truck, leading them inside.

“That coffee smells amazing…” Jake sighed, setting his bag down at the foot of the stairs.

“Let me grab you a cup.” You nodded and quickly moved into the kitchen, filling Jake’s mug and setting it down to reach for Bradley’s.

In your haste to be of service to them, you had misjudged the edge of the counter, the coffee cup wobbling precipitously before tumbling over to smash on the tile, splashing hot liquid and broken ceramic in all directions.

“Fuck!” The curse flew from your lips, and you quickly set the coffee pot back onto the element before bending down to pick up the sharp shards with your bare hands, thoroughly irritated with the mess you had made of the freshly cleaned floor. Not to mention the fact that you had just destroyed Jake’s favourite mug. “Shit, shit, shit…” You hissed, collecting pieces of crockery in your palm, sniffling in a stubborn attempt to hold back your tears.

A pair of arms wrapped around your waist and hauled you back against a strong, broad chest.

“Careful pretty girl, you’re going to hurt yourself…” Bradley’s gravelly voice filled your ears, and you opened your mouth to protest that you were just fine when an ugly sob tore from your throat.

You slapped your free hand over your mouth, mortified, biting down hard on the inside of your cheek in an attempt to stop any more of those from escaping. You felt Bradley tense behind you and saw one half of the look he shared with Jake reflected on the blonde’s face through the stubborn stream of tears in your eyes.

“Ok pretty girl, it’s ok, just a mug all right?” He drawled, carefully taking the broken shards from your hand and setting them on the counter.

“Why don’t you go upstairs with Jake while I take care of this, and we’ll have coffee in bed hmmm?” Rooster soothed and you managed a nod, not really meeting Jake’s eyes, but you could see the furrow of concern on his brow as he pulled you close, tucking you against his side. He led you up the stairs, hand on the small of your back, and into the ensuite bathroom.

“Let’s get you cleaned up hmmm?”

You sniffled and blinked at his words, glancing at the mirror and wincing at the state of your makeup. You grabbed your toiletries bag, opening it up to find your remover wipes, but before you had a chance to get started, he had set you on the counter between the double sinks, your back pressed against the mirror. One broad hand came to rest on your knee, his thumb rubbing warm, soothing circles on your skin as he pulled out the bottle of melatonin first. Then the painkillers. Followed by the eye drops to help with your dry eyes from the constant crying. These items he lined up on the counter one at a time, his face unreadable. And farther below Lake Ontario Takes in what Lake Erie can send her And the iron boats go as the mariners all know With the gales of November remembered

At last Jake produced the make-up removing wipes and turned to you with a gentle, patient expression as he carefully removed the layers of makeup you had become accustomed to painting on every morning to hide the ravages of the nighttime hours on your face. By the time he had cleaned it all off, your eyelids fluttered open to see Bradley leaning in the doorway quietly watching you.

You had spent more time unclothed with the pair of them than anyone in your life and yet you had never felt so naked in their presence before. You tried to avoid their eyes, to focus on your hands in your lap, but Jake caught your chin with his thumb and forefinger, raising your gaze once more to meet his. There was unconcealed concern there, now, and you watched his adam’s apple bob with a pronounced swallow.

“What’s going on, pretty girl…” He tacked your name onto the end of his question, adding a level of seriousness to the moment that had you squirming slightly and Bradley walking over to lean against the countertop beside you.

It was your turn to swallow painfully, groping for words to express just what the hell was going on, before you let out a huff.

“I’m ruining it…” You slumped back against the mirror in defeat, earning a raised eyebrow from each man. “You’re finally home for the first time in months and I’m ruining it…god I have no idea what I’m doing…” You scrubbed a hand down your tired face, dark circles beneath your eyes laid bare by Jake’s handiwork, and began to gnaw on your thumbnail thoughtfully.

There was another look shared between the pair of them, but this time you could see the concern shared in their gazes. There was an element of knowing something held in that look. Something they weren’t saying aloud. It irked you, made you even more annoyed with yourself for being so broken that you couldn’t even welcome them home properly.

“I’m supposed to be having amazing reunion sex with you both right now to make up for the fact that you’ve been gone, and I can’t stop crying…” you wiped at your face angrily before Jake caught your hand in his, lacing your fingers together and squeezing gently.

“You think we would ignore the fact that you’re not ok just because we want you, pretty girl?” He gently kissed away a fresh tear as it stole down your cheek.

Your eyes flitted over towards Bradley as he brushed away another tear on your opposite cheek with the backs of his fingers, treating you with more kindness than you had shown yourself in weeks.

“Please…what’s going on…” He rasped, voice roughened further by emotion, his brow furrowed.

In a musty old hall in Detroit they prayed In the Maritime Sailors' Cathedral The church bell chimed ‘til it rang twenty-nine times For each man on the Edmund Fitzgerald

You glanced between the pair of them, filled with trepidation, but quite honestly holding back these words had not served you in the least, so perhaps releasing them might at the very least provide some relief.

“My dumb ass has gone and fallen in love with two men with one of the most dangerous jobs in the world and I have no idea what I’m doing…” You exhaled in surrender, eyeing their faces intently to see how they might react as a hurricane of butterflies erupted in your stomach.

There was silence for a moment, and your worried that you had been too cryptic or too forward, until a flicker of hope dawned as smiles began to tug at their lips. You gasped as they both leaned forward at the same time, aiming for the opposite corners of your lips. It was awkward and claustrophobic and yet it felt so incredibly right to share a kiss between the three of you simultaneously. Sliding your arms around their necks, you held them close as they clung to you so tightly you felt as though they might have a decent chance of fusing your broken pieces back together.

“I love you, too.” Bradley whispered against your cheek, making you shiver in delight as Jake murmured your name adoringly.

“Love you both.” He grinned, not to be outdone.

“I’m really…sorry that I’m such a mess, please don’t…blame yourselves I…”

Bradley shook his head firmly.

“But we are to blame. At the very least, partially. We left you alone for the first time by yourself with nothing…pretty girl, will you ever forgive us?”

“Of course I forgive you!” You said quickly, kissing him firmly and wiping at a few of his tears that had slipped from the corners of his eyes.

“You were far too convincing, I promise to be a lot more skeptical in the future.” Jake teased but shook his head, assuming a more serious expression. “You’re our partner and we’re going to do a much better job of this going forward, ok?”

You gave him a watery smile and hauled him in for a firm kiss of agreement. They ushered you into your pajamas and the three of you curled up in bed, Bradley and Jake enjoying their coffee and baked goods with you sandwiched tightly between them as they regaled you with stories of their travels. Warm, safe, and contented, you found your eyelids drooping heavily. Jake’s hand rubbing soothing circles on your back and Bradley’s fingers tracing the features of your face were not making it any easier to stay awake.

“Sleep…” One or both of them whispered, and you made a soft noise of protest but were otherwise helpless against the rising tide of exhaustion.

You awoke to a bedroom painted in the hues of sunset, snuggled tightly into Bradley’s chest, the scent of pizza filling the air.

“That smells good…” You sighed drowsily.

“You hungry, pretty girl?” Jake drawled, the bed dipping and jostling as he walked closer on his knees, carrying pizza boxes over as you slowly sat up, nodding as a jaw-cracking yawn took over your body. “Good, let’s get some meat back on your bones.” The legend lives on from the Chippewa on down Of the big lake they call Gitche Gumee Superior, they said, never gives up her dead When the gales of November come early

With The Three of Us Masterlist

[mrwavellswaps]

Aftermath of The Homo-Bomb (Jack)

(Make sure to read the ➡️ Prologue ⬅️ first!)

Having just left the apartment of one of the men affected by the homo bomb, Wavell closed his eyes and sensed the area. He was sensing specifically for human life signatures that’d been doused in his magic as those were the people that’d been affected in some way by his spell. The closest one seemed to be just a couple doors down from where he was. He walked along the corridor until he reached the apartment where the signature was coming from. Room 204. According to the information he’d pulled out of the Landlord’s memories, the resident that lived here was an older man in his mid 40’s, Jack Rivers.

The warlock gave a swift knock to the door, waiting a couple seconds before hearing the shuffling movement coming from behind. There was a small ‘kerchunk’ sound as the lock came undone before the door opened a crack. “Who are you? What do you want?” A voice asked from behind the door.

“My name is Christopher Wavell sir. I’m here gathering intel on the strange event that’s taken place in this town by interviewing those affected so we may be able to figure what exactly caused all this.” Of course Wavell was bending the truth a little but it was more fun that way. “I was wondering if I could come in and have a chat with you if that’s alright...” He looked down at a notepad he was holding before looking back up to seem more authentic. “Jack is it?”

The door opened a little wider, revealing a middle aged and very handsome man. He had a very rugged and raw masculine energy about him. He adorned a very thick and full beard but in exchange he seemed to be completely bald underneath that cap he was wearing. He wore a tight t-shirt which showed off his strong arms, both covered by a full sleeve of tattoos. He definitely had an ex-jock dad type of build. Very strong and firm muscle being consistent across his body which showed dedication to either the gym or hard labour while also deciding not to take his dieting as seriously as he used to resulting in a thick belly hidden beneath his shirt. Long story short, he was a total dream from anyone who liked hot hairy daddies.

“Yeah that’s my name…” Even his voice was deep and husky. “But that only happened last night. How do you already know about it?” Jack questioned, just as most other people Wavell had visited had.

The warlock gave Jack a warm smile as his eyes glowed purple. His smile seemed so reassuring. So inviting. So trustworthy. Making Jack feel as though he could trust this stranger with his life! “Don’t worry about that. All that matters is that you tell me your story so we can figure this all out.”

Jack didn’t hesitate after that. He opened the door wide and offered Wavell inside without a second thought. He asked Wavell if he could grab him a drink, offering beer, coffee, juice and whatever else he had. Wavell took a coffee which didn’t take Jack long to whip up before the burly man grabbed a couple beers for himself. Wavell couldn’t help but find it amusing to see this man who’d been so hesitant about him mere moments ago suddenly acting so friendly.

Once they were both settled in Jack’s living room, Wavell got right down to business. “Okay so I want to start by asking you to give me your name, age and occupation.”

Jack took a quick swig of his beer. “Well my full name is Jack Ivory Rivers, I’m 43 years old and I’m a carpenter. I work at the little shop down the street. You might’ve seen it”

“I actually did. Nice workplace you’ve got.” Wavell replied as he wrote down a few notes before looking up again and continuing his questions. “Now tell me, how would you describe yourself as a person?”

The burly man thought for a moment. “Well… I suppose some would say I’m stoic and a little headstrong but I take a lot of care and pride in the work I do. I like to make sure everything I make at my shop is to the highest standard it can be and that’s exactly what I promise everyone who wants to buy from me.”

“Yup, that’s perfect.” Wavell muttered, scribbling down a few more things before glancing up again with a small smirk. “Now the formalities are out of the way, time for the real questions.” His eyes glows that same deep purple as before, causing Jack's eyes to briefly glow as well as he fell deeper into the arms of Mr Wavell's alluring aura. “First I want you to tell me what’s changed about you. I can tell you’ve been affected by the recent events somehow just by the way you carry yourself. As if your very identity has been shaken. What did that purple mist do to you Jack?”

Jack shuffled lightly in his seat, seeming a little uncomfortable with the idea of unveiling what's happened to a total stranger… but he could trust Mr Wavell right? He just wants to help. He would never judge. “Well… okay I guess I’ll start from the beginning.” Jack took a deep breath and another swig of his beer before casting his mind back to the previous night.

“I was working late at my shop. Being a carpenter is my life you know. It’s what I love and always have loved. So much so that I frequently stay overnight to continue my projects. I’ve been told before that my love for the craft is obsessive, perhaps even unhealthy. Hell they’re probably right, it’s half the reason my marriage fell apart years ago. My now ex-wife thought I cared more about my work than I did her. But they just didn’t understand…” Jack took a large gulp of his beer, now halfway through the first bottle. “Mike though. He understood. So much so he spent almost as much time in the shop as I do.”

Wavell thought for a moment, scanning back through some of his notes from previous people he’d spoken to. “Mike huh? I don’t believe I’ve spoken to a ‘Mike’ who works in carpentry yet. Is he a work partner of yours? Your son perhaps?”

Jack chuckled a little. “No, he's my apprentice. I’ve been teaching him for a couple years now. He isn’t my son but at times I wished he was with the amount of passion he has. Always eager to learn more from me.”

“Can you describe Mike for me?” Wavell asked curiously before tasting his coffee, nodding a little in satisfaction after.

It was subtle but the warlock couldn’t help noticing the slight blush that crossed Jack’s face when he heard that question. He tried to hide it by downing the rest of his first beer before letting out a small belch. “S’cuse me.” He pardoned. “Well uhhh… sure I guess I could.” Jack gulped slightly while leaning back a little in his chair. “I suppose he’s a fine looking young man. 25 years old so he’s still very much in his prime. Quite short brown hair and usually has some stubble. He has these deep green eyes that I couldn’t stop staring at after…” He stopped himself before having to slightly readjust how he was sitting again. “He has a ummm… very nice body. Clearly works out a lot outside of work and it looks like it pays off. He has pretty large biceps like me and some great shoulders. He usually wears these tight t-shirts or tank tops that show off his pecs really well and…” as Jack continued to describe his youthful apprentice a tent began to pitch itself in his tan cargo shorts, growing larger by the second. Jack tried to hide it by discreetly placing a hand on his crotch but it was still so obvious. “…He usually wears shorts like me that show off his very well built lower body you know.”

“This Mike sounds like quite the stud doesn’t he?” Wavell couldn’t help teasing a little.

Jack doesn’t reply to the comment but the telling look on his face was all the agreement Wavell needed. Instead he popped open his second beer and continued his story. “Anyway. As I said, I stayed late last night. I told Mike he could head home but he said he’d rather keep working. I don’t usually fight him on it when he wants to work late with me. I’d be a hypocrite if I did. Plus the amount of dedication he has reminds me so much of myself.” He drinks again as he prepares for the next part. “But then as the two of us were working, there was some kind of silent explosion outside. We looked out of the windows to see a massive cloud of purple smoke quickly making its way over the town.”

Wavell another took a sip of coffee. He’d already heard so many variations of this part from people that’d been awake when he threw the Homo-Bomb. “And what happened after that?”

The burly man hesitated for a second but once again the calming aura of the handsome silver haired man before him gave him the encouragement he needed. “Before we knew it the mist was seeping its way into the shop. Coming in from any entrance it could find. Under the doors, through any open windows. And once it was inside it felt as though it followed me and Mike wherever we went until we had nowhere left to go…” Jack took a large sip of his second beer. “I remember we were back to back when it surrounded us. It was like it was forcing itself into our lungs. Invading our bodies almost. And it didn’t just enter through our mouths either. It felt as though it entered through every entrance it could find on our bodies. Even my asshole! Part of me thought I was gonna die for a moment but… I didn’t. I just felt frozen in place for a good few minutes as I breathed in the mist until finally it dispersed.” Jack stopped. He knew what came after that but could he really share that…

“And what did it do to you Jack?” Wavell pried. “You can tell me anything. You can tell me everything. In detail. I want to hear it Jack and I know you’re just dying to tell me as well.” Wavell’s words ironed themselves onto Jack’s subconscious, pressing so deep until they became his truth. He wanted to tell Wavell what happened next. He wanted to so badly!

“The first thing I did was turn around to see if Mike was okay but the moment I did I felt something I’d never felt before. Mike was… gorgeous. Everything about him was hot. The way his muscles pressed against his clothes. How young and handsome his face was. How he just had this masculine air about him despite being so youthful at the same time. God just looking at him made me feel so hot and horny. Hornier than I’ve felt in years!” By this point Jack wasn’t even using his spare hand to cover his crotch anymore but rather to rub his ever growing erection through his shorts. “It didn’t make any sense to me. I’d been completely straight my whole life. I’d never even so much as looked at a guy sexually before last night. Hell, back in college they used to call me the pussy destroyer! Not just because of how many chicks I pulled but also for how most of them couldn’t handle how big my cock is… But now I can’t even get hard for women!” He shouted, spilling some beer down his shirt.

By this point Wavell was having to hide his own growing erection just hearing about all this. “So, if I may pry a little further, what happened between you and Mike after this event took place. Did you simply go home?”

Jack’s eyes darted away for a moment, hardly being able to look at the man sitting before him. “N-no. Not exactly.” Ordinary he wouldn’t have dreamed of divulging any further to anyone else. And yet… “The more I looked at him, the harder my dick got. I just couldn’t bring myself to look away either. And I could tell by the way he looked back at me and by the growing bulge in his shorts as well that he must’ve been feeling the same thing. It was like there was an invisible force pulling us together in so many ways. Before I knew it my face was inches away from his as we stared into each other's eyes. I don’t think I’ve ever felt anything more intimate. And then… we kissed.” Jack’s mind rushed back to that very memory, recounting it in great detail. Remembering how it felt to press his own bearded lips against Mike’s. Remembering just how good and right it felt in that moment. “I placed a hand on the back of his neck to pull him closer and as he did I remember feeling his hands run across my body. One rubbing along my back while the other grabbed at my chest…” The erection in his shorts was painfully hard as he imagined himself back in that very moment.

“I don’t mind if you want to get your cock out and jerk a little Jack. If you’ll be more comfortable that way of course.” Wavell suggested devilishly.

Jack didn’t think twice about it. The moment Wavell made the suggestion he whipped his cock out and started jerking it as he continued his story. It was huge and thick. Probably one of the biggest Wavell had seen on a natural man. Hell it rivaled his own cock! “I have no idea how long we made out. I was just so drawn in by Mike and everything about him. Soon I started groping his body just like he was groping mine. Grabbing at his muscles, his ass and even his crotch. I never would’ve done something like that in a million years before now. Don’t get me wrong Mr Wavell, I have nothing against the gays. I have tons of friends that are gay!… but I ain’t a homo! And Mike isn’t either! He was always telling me about the different girls he’d slept with… Neither of us are gay… or at least we weren’t.” He glanced down, watching himself jerk off to his apprentice before taking another large gulp of beer followed by another belch.

There was a slight pause as Jack gathered his thoughts, allowing Wavell a moment to drink some more coffee before picking his notepad back up. “Keep going Jack. This is good.”

“Well… next thing I knew we were taking off each other’s clothes until we were completely naked. Cocks touching and everything. I told him how much I loved his young, muscular body and he told me how much of a hot daddy I was with how hairy and strong I was.” He blushed a little, more obviously this time, as he remembered to compliment. “We kept saying things like that back and forth between kissing and feeling each other up. And eventually I realised something. I wanted him. I wanted Mike so badly. And so I took his hand and guided him to the back room where I sometimes slept after pulling all nighters.” He was jerking off furiously now, his thick giant daddy cock just barely contained by his hand..

“And what did the two of you do in the back room Jack”

The hairy man bit his lip slightly before continuing. “We uhh… we… we fucked!” He admitted, much to the warlock's delight. “M-my first instinct was to fuck him. To throw him on the couch-bed and slam my cock inside him. But before I even had a chance Mike turned me around, knelt down, and shoved his face into my ass! He dug his tongue deep into and around my hole while telling me that he loved how hairy and juicy my ass was. Mmmhh god! Why did it feel so gooood!” Jack grunted a little as he squirted a little precum at the memory. “After that he was the one tossing me on the couch-bed, face down so he could keep worshipping my ass. My hole just felt so needy and he was the only thing that could satisfy it…” He kept going, taking yet another swig of beer. “After that he began slowly kissing his way up my back until his lips reached my neck. As they did I felt his dick slide between my cheeks, practically rubbing against my hole. His dick isn’t as big as mine but it was big enough. Around 6 inches maybe?”

“Wow. You must’ve really enjoyed yourself last night to remember all these details.”

Once again Jack was too embarrassed to reply. Instead finishing off the rest of his second beer before tossing the bottle to the side so he could focus on his dick and the story. “At first I was a little worried. I’d never even considered putting anything up my ass before so the idea of having a dick shoved up there was daunting. But at the same time so damn hot! And so despite my worries it didn’t take long for me to start begging Mike to fuck me. To shove that young cock of his inside my hairy dad ass… fuck.”

“And did he?”

“Oh fuck yeah he did. He lubed himself up with some spit and the next thing I know I feel the tip of dick pressing inside me. I expected it to be extremely painful, or least rather sore, but I felt nothing but pure pleasure. It was like my asshole just opened up to him, as if it’d been waiting for a dick to fill it all my life.” Jack hardly paid any mind to the stream of precum flowing from the tip of his cock, coating his hand. “You know all my life I’d been the one dominating women in bed. But now, I was the one having my face pressed into the cushion below as another man slammed his cock inside me. A man I’d been teaching for years. A man who’s 18 years my junior dominating me in every sense. And I loved it. The feeling of his dick sliding in and out of my ass like it belonged. The feeling of his balls smacking against me. Even the way he told me how sexy I was as he destroyed my hole.”

By this point Wavell wasn’t even bothering to hide his own arousal anymore, having unzipped his pants and slowing his own fat cock to spring out. He gave it a light stroke between writing notes. “You know I wouldn’t have taken such a manly guy like yourself to be a submissive bottom Jack. Guess it just goes to show we shouldn’t judge by appearance.” Wavell added with a smirk. “Anyway, please continue”

“There isn’t whole lot left to say… he fucked my brains out and I loved every second of it. He kept saying I was his hot hairy daddy now and all I could do was moan. I think he meant in a way like he owned me or something. He just kept fucking me and fucking me. Then at some point he got me to turn over and put my legs over his shoulders so we could look at each other. After that it wasn’t long before he let out a deep guttural moan, the kind I’d never heard from him. Then I felt it. His load filling me up and breeding my ass for the first time. In that moment it was like a switch flipped in my mind and suddenly I blew a load all over myself. Some of it even shot up onto my face and in my beard.” Jack seemed as though he was trying his best not to blow another load right here and now as he described it. “After that we were both so exhausted that we ended up cuddling together and falling asleep at the shop. I only got home a couple hours before you arrived…”

Wavell scribbled down a few more notes before looking back up at Jack again. “Wow. That's quite the story you’ve got there Jack. I think it’s fair for me to assume that your sexuality seems to have been altered by the mist but I wanted to ask if you’ve noticed anything else. Like any other mental or physical changes about yourself since last night?”

The husky man stopped jerking for a moment to think. “Uhhh… I don’t think so. I still feel like myself… except I just can’t stop thinking about dick now.” His eyes then settled on Wavell’s exposed cock. Never having seen another cock anywhere near the same size as his own.

“Well then I suppose it’s safe to say that you’re a common case Mr Rivers. The majority of formerly straight men like yourself have reported no longer feeling anything towards women and instead feeling elevated levels of sexual attraction for other men.” Wavell confirmed… except Jack didn’t seem to hear a word he said. Instead the hairy daddy could only focus on the giant cock between Wavell’s legs. “Jack, if I may ask, are you attracted to me as well.”

Not being capable of lying to the warlock, Jack answered truthfully. “Y-yes!” He admitted, jerking himself again to Wavell. “I’ve been trying to ignore it but since the moment I opened the door I’ve wanted to kiss you. And your cock it’s just so… fuuuck.”

Wavell’s expression turned playful. Without a word he beckoned Jack to come closer. The bear of a man did so without a second thought, practically leaping out of his chair. Once he stood before Wavell, the warlock once again beckoned him to lean down, to get even closer. Jack complied until their faces were almost touching. Then, with a gentle smile, Wavell leant forwards a little and kissed the newly gay daddy. Wavell’s short, groomed beard colliding with Jack’s thick and slightly bushy one. This kiss must’ve lasted a good 10 seconds or so before Wavell pulled them apart. “There. Wish granted.” He chuckled. “Now I do have one little thing I want to give you which might help… but it’ll cost ya.” Seemingly out of thin air Wavell summoned a small pill. “This pill will help make some adjustments to fit your new situation. Buuut if you want it then you’ll have to suck me off.” Wavell might’ve been a bit more classy when he was in this form but that didn’t stop him from being a perv from time to time.

Some might’ve taken a moment to think about it but not Jack. He was on his knees in seconds before trying to swallow every inch of Wavell’s giant cock, wrapping his bearded lips around as much of it as possible. As Jack had already found out, the magic had actually done slightly more than just make him gay. It’d also loosened his asshole and reduced his gag reflex. Despite that Jack still found himself sputtering a little as he tried to take all of Wavell. As he did Wavell couldn’t help holding the other man’s head down, enjoying every second. Jack sucked him off vigorously, using his tongue, lips and hands perfectly to give as much pleasure as possible. It was almost hard to believe he used to be a straight man before all this. Now all he wanted was to suck dick have his hairy ass bred with as much cum as could be stuffed up there. Wavell couldn’t help but notice how Jack arched his back slightly, showing off said hairy ass a little in hopes Wavell would fuck him no doubt. He considered it but decided to focus on his ‘interviews’ for now. Maybe he’d come back for a visit sometime though…

After a while Jack seemed to adjust to Wavell’s cock and had no problem taking the entire length down his throat. He sucked it happily as if it were something he was always born to do. Being a slutty cock sucking daddy. The more he thought about it, the more passion he put into the blowjob. Servicing the dick before like nothing else mattered. He’d tuned out from the world around him so much that he didn’t even register Wavell’s groans until Jack felt a flood of thick cum pouring down his throat. The taste was nothing short of divine. He made sure to suck out every last drop before pulling off and falling onto his back. He used both hands to jack his cock furiously while savouring the taste of Wavell’s load until he busted his nut all over himself once again.

As Jack was blowing his load, Wavell had already tucked his dick away and zipped up his pants. “Welp, I suppose I owe you this.” He placed the pill on the small coffee table next to his empty cup. He waited a few moments for Jack to refocus before explaining. “It’s a magic pill I designed. It’s capable of swapping the cocks of two men. All you have to do is break it half, you take one half and the other guy you’re swapping with takes the other. I suggest you bring it up to Mike the next time you see him. After all I’m sure you’re curious what it might feel like to have that monster dick of yours inside you.”

Jack couldn’t believe what he was hearing and yet he couldn’t help believing it. A pill that would allow him to swap dicks with Mike? He glanced down at the softening cock between his legs. It’d always been a huge source of pride for him knowing how giant it was… but just the thought of Mike swinging it between his legs instead sounded so hot. Maybe it was the right thing to do. After all he couldn’t see himself ever being a top again now he’d gotten a taste for bottoming so maybe he didn’t deserve a cock this big if he wasn’t gonna use it properly…

“I’ll leave you to think about it. For now I’ve got some more people to interview for my research. I hope things between you and Mike go well though. Perhaps I’ll come back some time to see how you’re getting.” With that though Wavell said his goodbyes to which Jack was only just able to reciprocate in the cum-covered state he was in.

The warlock stepped outside of the apartment and took a deep breath with a satisfied smile knowing he took plenty of notes and had fun doing it. “Alright. Who’s next.”

If you love my stories then please consider supporting me on Patreon as well!! ❤️

[siriuslysatorusimping]

Before I Love You (Gojo Satoru oneshot)

Trying something new... Cross-posting here and AO3 😬

Like I said before, this is Gojo and Rinko, but it's not Another Level or Physical Paradox. Complete AU.

The title is from Takeaway by Chainsmokers

You can also read it on AO3: Before I Love You

Implied/Referenced cheating, past relationships, a tiny lil bit of NSFW

Before I Love You

2017

Her eyes were trained on the field, bottom lip firmly between her teeth as she watched the game.

Holding her breath, she barely registered the person dropping into the empty spot beside her when Mai began sprinting toward the goal, dribbling the ball as she went.

“Ya know,” a voice said, the familiar drawl causing her to jump. “This is the last place I expected to see you.”

She whipped her head to the side as they spoke, her eyebrows shooting up.

Gojo Satoru sat next to her, his bright blue eyes shining behind his dark shades as they swept down her body and back up. The years had been good to him. Still lean but clearly muscular, and his stark white hair was almost ethereal in the early afternoon sunlight. His ridiculously long legs were covered in a pair of teal pants, a short-sleeve tan button-up half tucked into them over a long-sleeved white t-shirt.

He looked good. But he’d always looked good. And he’d always known it, too.

She blinked a few times before shrugging, turning her eyes back to the soccer game just as the crowd of parents cheered around her. Mai was backing away from the goal, throwing her fist in the air as the goalie slammed her own into the ground.

Tie game. They had a chance.

The opposing team called a timeout, and she felt a grin overtake her face when Mai waved.

“Zenins,” Gojo noted, nodding toward the field. “Guessing you know them?”

“Cousins,” she replied absently, shrugging again as she watched Mai accept an excited high-five from Maki. “They asked me to come to the game because their parents weren’t going to make it.”

Their parents never went to their games. Never supported their daughters’ successes because they weren’t academic.

“The real question is, what are you doing here?” she asked, turning back toward him. “Don’t tell me you have cousins-”

“I have a few students on the soccer team,” he replied, jerking his chin toward the field. “I’m here to support them. Looks like this game is a bit more of a game than we all expected, though. Explains why they wanted me to come to this one.”

Her chest swelled with pride at his words. The twins were a surprise to everyone when they joined the team.

A secret weapon of sorts for a school with a losing streak almost a decade long.

But Ogi didn’t give a shit about sports, so he paid no mind to whether their high school had a decent soccer team, even though the girls could get excellent scholarships if the right scouts saw them.

“Been a while,” Gojo leaned back slightly as he pushed his shades up to shield his eyes from the bright glare of the sun.

Five years. At least. The last time she’d seen him was the day of graduation. But they hadn’t spoken. She had just seen him through the crowd and heard his name called as he walked across the stage.

The last time they’d spoken was when she’d thrown him out of her apartment, not wanting to hear his lies.

His bullshit reasons for why she’d seen him with another girl after they’d agreed to be exclusive. After he had asked her for a real relationship. Asked to call her his.

A part of her had known, felt that it couldn’t end well. But she’d agreed anyway. She had to give him some credit, he’d play the part well. For a while.

But in the end, the reality was that he couldn’t hold a relationship to save his life. That he wouldn’t know true commitment if it slapped him in the face.

Because when she’d agreed to a dinner with her father over the break, she’d seen him. Sitting way too close to someone who wasn’t her, whispering in the girl’s ear before his lips were pressed against hers with his tongue in her mouth.

Confirming what she’d known and ignored already: that nothing was enough for Gojo Satoru. He’d never been able to commit to someone before, and she’d known better than to think she would change that, but she’d let herself believe otherwise.

Even after so long, she was almost shocked that he’d chosen to approach her. But that was another thing about Gojo Satoru: he was shameless. She doubted that time changed that.

“You look good,” he stated, giving her a small smirk. “Really good.”

“Thanks,” she replied, trying to ignore him as the game continued.

If she was honest, she wasn’t upset with Gojo anymore. Hadn’t been in a long time.

In fact, she’d mostly been upset with herself for ending up in the position to be hurt in the first place. She had been more upset that she let him hurt her than with him for doing what she’d always known he would do.

“How have you been?” he asked, his eyes clearly watching her face carefully. “Are you-”

“Been fine,” she cut him off.

Her eyes were following Mai again as she ran ahead, clearly waiting for the ball.

The girl suddenly tumbled to the ground hard, her leg twisting slightly as she collapsed. The player guarding her backed away as they tried to appear innocent. Mai shoved herself to her feet, her eyes filled with anger as the two exchanged heated words. A referee broke them apart, the whistle telling them that a penalty was awarded, and Mai gave the other girl a smug grin.

She held her breath again as she watched the teen square her shoulders in front of the goal for the penalty kick.

It went straight in, the goalie having lunged in the opposite direction.

They were winning. A game they were supposed to have no chance in just went from tied to them being up 2:1.

But Mai was limping. The timeout was called, and she allowed Nishimiya Momo to support her as they approached the sidelines. Maki was by her side in the next instant, the two of them listening to the coach for a few moments before Mai accepted an ice pack and sat down on the bench. They both waved her concern off when they turned to look at her, smirking.

The message was clear: Mai’s part was done now that they were in the lead. It was Maki’s job to keep them there.

“Some tough kids,” Gojo leaned forward, his eyes now watching the sisters interacting as the timeout ended. “Twins, right?”

“Yeah,” she replied, nodding absently.

They had to be tough coming from their family, especially with Ogi as their father.

He hummed, and they settled into a tense silence as the game continued once again.

“It’s- it’s good to see you,” he finally said, turning his head to stare at her. “Really. I’m glad I ran into you. D’you live in Tokyo now?”

Her nod was paired with a shrug as she debated just getting up and walking down to check on Mai anyway.

“We should grab dinner sometime to catch up,” he continued casually, shoving his hands in his pockets. “Wanna hear about how you’re-”

“No thanks,” she didn’t bother turning to look at him. “I’m pretty much always busy. Sorry.”

Not a lie. She spent a lot of time with the twins when she wasn’t working. They practically lived at her place now.

Anything to get away from their parents.

“Come on,” he reasoned, a frown in his voice that had her rolling her eyes. “Just to catch up.”

“Not interested in catching up with you, Gojo,” she stated bluntly, finally turning to meet his eyes. Staring into them, she noted the surprise at being turned down twice. “I’d say I’m surprised at your nerve to even ask, but that’d be a lie because it’s you. Everything’s always been a joke to you.”

“Didn’t realize you held such long grudges,” he muttered, a pout pulling the corners of his mouth. He hadn’t changed a bit. “That was years ago. Things are- different now. And I’m not- I’m not asking you out on a date. Just want to catch up as- old friends. Wanna hear about what you’ve been up to. I’m obviously teaching now - I teach physics and math, by the way.”

“Good for you,” she said drily, turning back as the clock ticked down.

The ball bounced off Maki’s hands as she tapped it away from the goal, and Mai was on her feet again, screaming in relief when the time ran out.

It was over.

And they’d won.

Shoving herself to her feet, she went to rush down the stairs, but Gojo stopped her with a hand on her arm.

“Wait,” he pulled her back slightly. “Please. Just- let me at least buy you a coffee. I- never got to give you an explanation for- and I want to apologize for what happened between us.”

He ran his hand through his hair as she stared at him with one eyebrow raised.

“I didn’t want your explanation back then,” she began, removing his hand from her arm. “And while I appreciate the sentiment, I still don’t care to hear your apology, either.”

“Rinko-”

“Goodbye, Gojo.”

-

2011

“You wanna be my girlfriend?”

She tensed, her body going rigid beneath him as he stared into her eyes.

“I- I’m sorry, what?” she asked, blinking up at him. She’d had to have heard him wrong. “Did you just-”

“Yeah,” he nodded, tilting his head to the side. His hips had paused their movement, leaving him seated inside her while he nonchalantly asked if she wanted to be his girlfriend, as if he was asking her about the weather. “I- I wanna call you mine, ya know? Introduce you as my girl.”

She pursed her lips to the side, squirming beneath him a bit uncomfortably as he moved a hand to her face.

“You want a relationship?” she balked, searching his face for any sign that he was messing with her. “As in exclusive?”

“We basically already are, yeah?” he gave her his boyish grin as he started rocking his hips again. “Just without a label. I mean, I haven’t slept with anyone else in a few months now. Dunno about you.” His cock was brushing against her gspot with each roll of his hips, and she struggled to focus on his words as she moaned quietly. “But- yeah. What do you say? Can I call you mine, Rinko-chan?”

The skeptical look on her face made him stop, his hands cupping her face.

“I’m serious,” he murmured, all teasing gone now. “Been thinking about it for a bit, actually. I- I wouldn’t bring it up if I didn’t mean it.”

He had a look in his eyes that made her uneasy. It felt far too serious for him. This wasn’t who he was. Gojo didn’t do relationships.

Still, it was appealing. And if he really hadn’t slept with anyone else in a few months-

“I- okay,” she whispered, giving him a hesitant smile. “That mean I get to introduce you as my boyfriend, then?”

“You can introduce me as whatever you want, baby,” Gojo replied cheekily as he pulled his hips back and slammed back into her. “I’m yours however you want me, Rinko-chan.”

-

“Think my parents like you more than they like me,” he grumbled, burying his face in her neck as he lay on top of her. “S’not fair.”

They were cuddling in his bed after getting dinner with his parents. His mother had grilled her excitedly until his father reminded her that they were there to eat, teasingly telling her to at least wait until they’d finished dessert to scare their son’s girlfriend off.

“He’s never introduced a girlfriend to us before,” the woman had argued, offering her husband a pout that left no question where Gojo had gotten his own from. “You must be special, dear. We’re so excited to get to know you.”

They’d sat with them in the living room when they got back, sharing a bottle of wine as his mother continued gushing about how delighted she was to see her son so happy.

“Don’t be jealous,” she teased now, stroking his hair gently. Her nails scraped along his scalp, drawing a contented hum from his throat. “They’re just amazed someone was able to tame you. Change your fuckboy tendencies.”

He scoffed, biting her neck gently as she snickered.

“My parents don’t know about those tendencies,” he mumbled. “They just know I’ve never dated anyone worth bringing to meet them until you.”

Her heart jumped in her chest, and she willed herself not to read into his words.

“Guess I am special, huh?” her breath hitched as he leaned up, smiling down at her softly.

“Yeah,” he murmured, his eyes shining. “You really fucking are. Lucky to call you mine, baby. Gonna do everything I can to keep it that way.”

-

2017

“Got one in 3,” Kouji said as he stuck his head into the breakroom. “You take ‘em? I was supposed to go on break two hours ago. You’re better with kids, anyway.”

“Yeah,” she replied, running her hand through her hair as she pushed herself to her feet. “On it.”

She knocked on the door lightly as she entered, her eyebrows shooting up when she saw a familiar face sitting in the corner.

“Megumi,” her fingers input her ID absently as she stared at him. “Are you hurt?”

He shook his head, and her gaze moved to the pink-haired boy seated on the small bed, cradling his left arm. She glanced at the summary as the computer loaded, pursing her lips to the side as she grabbed the blood pressure cuff and moved to his side.

“Ittadori Yuuji?” she asked. “Tell me what’s up, kid.”

He shrugged sheepishly, holding his right arm out for her to check his vitals.

“I, uh,” he gave Megumi an embarrassed look, and she noticed two skateboards leaning against the wall beside him. “I tried to catch myself-”

“He missed the rail on the stairs in the park a few blocks over,” Megumi cut him off flatly. “Tried to catch himself, and I heard a pop when he landed.”

Nodding, she moved back to the computer, adding his blood pressure and pulse, along with the notes from Megumi, before turning back to them.

“Anything else?”

They both shook their heads, and she gently began checking his arm.

“It doesn’t feel broken,” Ittadori joked, and she chuckled. “Doesn’t look broken either.”

“Unless it’s sticking out, they typically don’t,” she said, causing him to laugh. “We’ll get some x-rays to check out the full damage, kid. But it’s likely you just dislocated it-”

An urgent knock on the doorframe cut her off, followed by a slightly panicked voice that made her tense.

“Yuuji-kun!”

Of all the people it could be.

“Gojo-sensei!” the kid exclaimed excitedly.

“Are you okay?” Gojo asked, moving to his side quickly. “They didn’t give me any details, just that you were in the emergency-” 

He trailed off when he turned to face her, his eyes widening in surprise.

“Hey.”

“I’m okay, Gojo-sensei,” Ittadori said, rubbing the back of his neck. “Sorry if I worried you.”

“You’re fine, Yuuji,” he replied, turning back to the kid. “Just glad you’re okay. What happened?”

She tuned them out as she moved back to the computer, typing a few notes as she double-checked Ittadori’s information.

Emergency contact: Gojo Satoru

Huh.

Megumi said her name quietly, and she tilted her head slightly to let him know she was listening.

“My phone is dead,” he stated, holding it up. “Can I borrow yours to call my dad?”

“Yeah,” she replied absently, pulling it from her pocket and unlocking it for him. “Unlike you, kid. You don’t usually let your phone-”

“Someone-” he paused, giving Ittadori a pointed look, “drained my battery watching videos.”

“They were cat videos!” Ittadori argued defensively. “Cute, fluffy little cats! How could I not-”

“Use your own in the future,” Megumi snapped. “I’ll be right back.”

“Stay out of the breakroom,” she ordered, watching him scowl. “Yeah, thought so. I’ll bring you cookies next time I visit. But if there are any missing when I go back in there, I’ll know it was you.”

-

2011

“Thank you for agreeing to this.”

She shrugged, leaning back in her seat as she stared at her father across the table.

“I promised my mom I’d be civil,” she admitted. “S’long as you don’t invite the little shitspawn of yours, dinner isn’t so bad.”

His mouth pressed into a firm line as she raised her eyebrows, daring him to disagree with her.

“Fair,” he admitted, giving her a reluctant smile. “I am sorry. For- how he treats you. I know I played a major role in it, but that doesn’t make it right. And-”

“He’s an adult,” she cut him off. “How he treats me is on him now. I’ll- I’ll try not to hold it against you too much.”

His smile was small, and she took a deep breath as they ordered their food.

It wasn’t horrible to spend time with him when he was sober. She didn’t enjoy it, but it wasn’t miserable.

It also gave her an excuse to surprise Gojo. They hadn’t had a chance to see each other since she’d spent the first few days of break with his family. They’d both been busy. The holidays were when her mother’s bakery was the busiest, which was why she’d had to return to Kyoto instead of spending the entire break there with Gojo like he’d originally asked. But now that the holiday rush was over, her mother no longer needed the extra help.

Gojo’s mother had already said she was welcome to stay the night after dinner with her father, and she’d gone to their house to drop her overnight bag off so she didn’t have to lug it around with her. She was excited to see Gojo’s face when he realized she’d also brought him some of those cookies he was obsessed with.

She excused herself to go to the restroom as her father ordered a small dessert, sending a reassuring text to her mother that dinner was going fine. She was being civil, just as requested.

Her mother’s response, expressing how proud she was, made her smile as she walked back to her seat. The distinct white hair caught in the corner of her eye made her gut churn as she turned her head.

Gojo was sitting in a booth near the front, his arm around a girl she didn’t recognize. He was whispering something to her, and her cheeks went red as he smirked and nipped her ear. His hand was running along her thigh under the table, inching its way up slowly. Suddenly, he lifted his hand to her jaw, turning her so he could press his lips to hers.

Can I call you mine, Rinko-chan?

She snapped out of her daze when he slipped his tongue into the girl’s mouth.

I’m yours however you want me, Rinko-chan.

Her chest felt empty as she realized how meaningless it had all been. That she’d let herself get pulled in by his boyish grin and sweet kisses far too easily. That she’d really been that stupid.

Blinking, she kept walking, fighting the hollow feeling threatening to drown her as she took her seat. Her father furrowed his brow at her sudden change in demeanor.

“Not feeling too well,” she explained weakly, trying to figure out how she was going to get her bag from Gojo’s house without raising too many questions from his parents about why she was leaving. But she couldn’t stay there now. Not when she felt like she was going to suffocate at the thought of being anywhere near him.

She felt so stupid.

Shame was choking her as her father’s face scrunched in concern.

“You can go,” he said, his eyes searching her face. “I appreciate you coming to dinner. I- won’t subject you to them too often.”

Shaking her head, she forced herself to give him a small smile.

“You’re doing a- decent job,” she informed him quietly. “I- also appreciate the effort. Doesn’t make up for everything. But- it’s a start.”

He gave her a wide smile, his dark eyes shining slightly as he nodded.

“I’ll let you go since you aren’t feeling well. Have a good night, Rinko.”

“You- too.”

Pulling her phone back out as she moved toward the exit, she typed a quick excuse to Gojo’s mother, saying that something came up and she needed to get back to Kyoto after all. If she hurried, she could make the last train of the night.

As she approached the front, she felt someone watching her. She turned her head briefly to see Gojo staring at her, his eyes flitting in the direction she’d come from suspiciously. It was almost comical how his jaw dropped open slightly when he saw her father. As if he thought he’d caught her cheating.

I’m yours however you want me, Rinko-chan.

His arm withdrew from the girl’s shoulders quickly, now looking panicked as she heard him say her name.

“Rinko-”

She turned away, keeping her expression blank as she walked out, refusing to acknowledge him any further.

Her phone buzzed in her hand, a message from his mother saying she hoped everything was okay and to be safe getting home. Another message asked if there was anything in her bag that she needed, saying she would have Gojo bring it to her if there was.

At this point, she didn’t want any of it back. Not if it meant having to see him. Everything in that bag could easily be replaced.

Just like her.

Part of her wondered if he would follow her, but she knew better. She wouldn’t ignore the fact that she knew he didn’t have it in him to care enough again. Not when the message was perfectly clear.

Rushing to the train station, she barely made it in time for the last bullet train to Kyoto.

The tears finally formed as she dropped into her seat, curling her legs beneath her and leaning her head against the window. She blinked at her reflection, hating the sight of the crying girl staring back.

Three months. She’d wasted three months being an idiot. Allowing herself to be lulled into a false sense of happiness, of love. Let herself believe his lies.

He’d never wanted a relationship. He didn’t do relationships. She’d known that from the beginning. Should have listened to her gut when he’d asked to be exclusive.

Can I call you mine, Rinko-chan?

He’d wanted her to be his. But he’d never wanted to be hers.

I’m yours however you want me, Rinko-chan.

Liar.

-

2017

She’d been right. The kid had dislocated his wrist.

As they showed him how to care for the splint, he smiled sheepishly again and thanked her.

“Don’t sweat it,” she replied, going over the instructions and reminding him to take over-the-counter meds for the pain. “You’re all set, kid. Good luck.”

Ruffling Megumi’s hair quickly, she walked out and back to the nurses' station.

As she sat down, she noticed that Gojo had followed her.

“I- Can I talk to you for just a minute?”

“Working,” she replied instantly. “Don’t have-”

“What time does your shift end?” he asked, leaning over so no one else would hear him. “Please, Rinko. Just- ten minutes. I- I know I don’t deserve your time, but-”

“And yet you still ask for it,” she cut him off. “I don’t know why you care after so long. It’s been six years, Gojo.”

“Please,” he whispered, meeting her eyes when she looked up and giving her a small pout. “I won’t bother you again.”

Letting out a heavy sigh, she checked her watch. It didn’t hurt to listen.

“Seven,” she relented tiredly. “I get off at seven. But-”

“I’ll meet you anywhere you want,” he said immediately. “Where works best?”

“There’s a coffee shop at the end of the block,” she sighed again, feeling wary at the hopeful expression on his face. “I’ll meet you there once I get off work. But you get ten minutes. No more.”

“Deal,” he nodded, his eyes lighting up as he gave her a small smile. “I’ll see you then.”

-

2011

“I- I can explain,” Gojo pleaded, his voice desperate as he called out to her through her front door. “Baby, please. Just let me-”

“No,” she clenched her jaw as it trembled.

She’d cried enough already. The entire train ride back, and while she dug through all of her things to make sure she found everything of his that was in her apartment. Anything that would remind her how stupid she was. All of it was now tucked away in the box sitting next to her front door, which she wasn’t sure if she was willing to open because she knew he’d just force his way inside.

“Baby,” his voice was louder than before, hoarse, as he begged her to let him inside. “Please. Please just hear me out. Please, baby-”

“Don’t call me that,” she cut him off, wiping her eyes before the tears could fall. He didn’t deserve them. And she didn’t deserve to feel sad. Not when she’d let this happen. Let herself fall into his stupid little trap.

When she’d known better than to trust his words.

“Please, I- I have your bag-��

She ripped the door open, yelping in surprise when he fell forward because he’d been leaning against it.

“Baby,” he rushed out, dropping her bag and reaching for her. “Please, just let me explain-”

“Don’t touch me,” she swatted his hands away. “There’s nothing to explain, Gojo. You got what you wanted from me, and it wasn’t enough. So you-”

“That’s not it,” he insisted, following after her desperately. “Please, just- I’m sorry-”

“You’re sorry you got caught,” she snapped, forcing herself to take a deep breath as she felt the walls closing in. “You’re sorry that your fun was ruined. That you don’t get to keep stringing me along like an idiot. I’ve gotta give it to you. You had me convinced. Meeting your parents was a nice touch, I must say. Really sold that you actually gave a shit. Made me feel special-”

“You are-”

“I guess I can’t blame you for taking advantage of the fact that I was stupid enough to believe you-”

“You’re not stupid,” he argued, his brow furrowed as he stepped closer. “Please, just- I can explain. It was a mistake-”

“Which part?” she cut him off, stepping further away. “Planning the date? Going on it? Your hand on her leg? Your tongue in her mouth? Or was it just this entire thing? Was that the mistake? Me?”

The tears broke free, and she wiped her eyes furiously.

“Baby, that’s not-”

“Don’t fucking call me that,” she hissed, running her hands through her hair. “Don’t pretend to give a shit. Just- don’t.”

“I- I do care, Rinko,” Gojo wrung his hands together. “Please, I just- I-”

“How long?” she asked, watching his eyes. “Those nights when you were too tired to call the past couple weeks, were they all because you were busy with someone else?”

He said nothing, staring at her, his expression filled with guilt.

“You were the one who wanted this,” she accused, glaring at him as his eyes pleaded with her. “You said you wanted-”

Can I call you mine, Rinko-chan?

The sob escaped before she could stop it. She grasped her hair, pulling it slightly as reality crashed into her once again, and she realized just how stupid she was.

He had just wanted the only thing she hadn’t already given him. Wanted to make sure that no one else could have her. But he didn’t care.

It was about getting something for the sake of having it.

But she wasn’t shiny and new anymore.

The relationship wasn’t what he wanted, so he went and found something that was.

And now that he’d been caught, he was pretending to care. Pretending to want her.

“Get out,” she whispered, unable to get her voice to come out any louder. “Leave. And don’t fucking talk to me. Don’t come near me. Just- you got what you wanted, yeah? You got-”

Can I call you mine, Rinko-chan?

“Sex wasn’t enough,” she choked, unable to breathe as she realized it had all just been a game. “You got your prize, yeah? Got to call me yours-”

“That’s not what this is,” his hands grasping her face gently. “You’re not a prize, baby. I- you’re mine, and I- I’m yours.”

It was like those words broke her.

She almost couldn’t believe his nerve. That he’d lie so blatantly after what she’d seen. But she knew better. It was Gojo.

“Don’t fucking lie to me!” she screamed, pushing him away. “Don’t fucking- you’re not mine. And you never were. You don’t even know what that means. You- you really do just fucking say whatever it takes to get what you want. Anything at all.”

“That’s not- no, that’s not how-”

He cut off as she shoved the box into his hands, his face crumbling as he saw the first sweater she’d stolen from him before they started dating.

“Baby,” he whispered. “Please. Please just give me a chance to explain. I- this will never happen again. I fucking-”

“It won’t happen again,” she agreed, pushing him toward the door. “Because this is it. We’re done. Get out. Pretend I never existed, just like you were at dinner-”

“That’s- no, please, baby-”

“I said don’t call me that,” her chest felt tight, her throat threatening to close, and she grabbed the door as soon as she got him over the threshold. “I don’t ever want to hear from you again.”

“Wait,” he begged, dropping the box to the ground as he tried to reach for her again. “Rinko, wait, please-”

She slammed the door shut, locking it and sinking to the floor beside it as she curled in on herself.

It was her own fucking fault for believing him. For thinking she was special to him even for a second.

-

2017

“I- wasn’t sure if you still liked matcha lattes,” he pushed it toward her hesitantly. “But I- went ahead and got it just in case? That way, you don’t have to wait in line-”

“It’s fine,” she replied, taking a small sip. “Thanks.”

“Yeah,” he ran his hand through his hair as she checked her watch deliberately. “I- thank you for agreeing to hear me out. I just- I really am so fucking sorry, Rinko. I fucked up. Really bad. And I really wish I could take it back. All of it. Every single thing I did that hurt you.”

“It’s been six years,” she repeated her earlier words, staring at him. “It’s in the past. I honestly don’t get why you still care so much.”

“Because I hurt you-”

“It was my own fault,” she informed him bluntly. “I knew who you were. What you were like. I let myself believe I was different. That was my fault.”

His face fell as he met her eyes, the blue dimming just slightly.

“I- I was a real piece of shit to you,” he admitted, his eyes staying firmly on hers. “You were too good to be true, honestly. Too good for me. I knew it. Everyone knew it. Shoko and Nanamin never failed to tell me I didn’t deserve you when we were together. And I- I just had to be an idiot and prove them right.” He sighed, fidgeting with his cup in front of him. “My parents fucking loved you. Knew they would, you just- you were perfect.” There was a sad smile on his face. “My mom still asks about you sometimes, ya know. I don’t think she’ll ever forgive me for losing you.”

“We were never going to work,” she stated, watching the smile drop again. “We both know that. You didn’t want a relationship, not really. You never did. It was just something you thought you wanted because it was the only thing you didn’t have from me-”

“That’s not true,” he argued, frowning. “That’s not what it was at all. I- I wanted to be with you. I- I still do.”

She snorted, somehow not surprised.

“You want to be with me now because it’s a challenge,” she rolled her eyes. “Because it’s something you don’t have. Something that-”

“That isn’t- do you really think I just see you as something to obtain?”

Pursing her lips to the side, she nodded.

“Yes,” she admitted, taking a small sip of her latte. “It’s what our relationship was. You saw something you didn’t have, something that I could give you. And once you had it, you got bored of it. The sex wasn’t enough, so you wanted a relationship, but then neither of those were enough, so you-”

“Please don’t- please tell me that isn’t what you’ve thought all this time,” he whispered, his face crumpling. “Rinko, please tell me you don’t think that it was because you weren’t enough.”

“For you,” she clarified, shrugging. “Like I said, I knew better than to believe that I was somehow special or different from anyone else you’d been with.”

“But you were,” he argued, his eyes suddenly filling with determination. “You are. I- it was me-”

“I know it was you,” she reminded. “I know you fucked up. But I should never have given you the chance to fuck up.”

He was silent for a few moments, his eyes searching her face before he spoke again.

“Do you regret dating me?” he asked quietly, meeting her eyes carefully. “Do you- do you really wish you’d never even given me a chance?”

The question had her gnawing on her bottom lip as she thought, staring down at the cup in her hands.

Did she regret it?

The way it made her feel after, absolutely. She’d felt empty and worthless for a while afterward.

But in the good moments, the ones where she’d thought he cared, she’d been happy. Felt loved. It was why she’d felt so stupid when everything was over.

“Not completely,” she finally whispered. “The beginning was good. But-”

“I- I said I would explain,” he leaned forward, bracing his elbows on the table as he clasped his hands together. “The- there were two people that I-” he paused, taking a deep breath before meeting her eyes again. “I slept with two others. It- the girl you saw me with- that was the second time I saw her. She- I never saw her again after-”

He stopped, running a hand through his hair as she clenched her jaw. She didn’t even know why she was here. Why she was listening to this after six years.

“When- when you didn’t stay for break, even though I knew it was because you needed to help your mom, I just- I thought maybe I’d already done something wrong,” he continued, swallowing thickly. “Or that you didn’t like my parents. Or- I don’t even know. But I was- I panicked. Because I- I was falling in love with you, and I was fucking terrified. So when the panic set in- when you didn’t stay after meeting my parents-” he shook his head as his brow furrowed. “I just- part of me thought I was softening the blow for myself so when you broke up with me, it wouldn’t hurt as much. It- was fucked up of me to do.”

“So- you cheated on me because you thought that I was going to break up with you?” her eyes narrowed. “Because that’s a great way to save a relationship-”

“I fucked up,” he admitted, dropping his head to his hands. “I- really fucked up. And I can’t ever apologize enough. I- three times. One person twice, the one you saw me with once. I- fuck, it’s even worse saying it all out loud.”

He wasn’t wrong.

It was like ripping open old, healed scars and watching them bleed just for the sake of it.

“I- don’t blame you for not listening to me when I tried to apologize,” Gojo whispered, lifting his head to stare into her eyes again. The blue orbs were bright with a sincerity she was wary of. “But- I’d give anything for another chance. I- I know I don’t deserve it. But I would do anything for the chance to do things right. To do right by you.”

She gnawed on her bottom lip, unable to hold his gaze. Getting involved with Gojo Satoru again was the last thing she needed in her life. But staring into his eyes made her want to believe him.

“I won’t- push any further,” he murmured. “I just needed to get that off my chest. To know that I at least tried to- make things right. Thank you for- listening.”

“You- you said anything,” she said curiously, watching him tense before he gave her a hopeful look. “What- what do you even mean by that? What could I even want from you?”

He chuckled wrily, running his hand through his hair again.

“That- I think that was more of a plea to the universe, ya know? I mean, name your price, and if it’s possible, I’ll fuckin-”

“Why now?” she asked. “It’s been years.”

“Because,” he sighed, offering her a small smile. “I- never thought I’d see you again. Hadn’t seen or heard about you since school. So when I saw you at that soccer game, all I could think about was that it had to be my second chance. It felt like I’d be tossing that chance away if I didn’t at least try talking to you. Today was- I had no idea you worked at that hospital. I was only there because of Yuuji.”

That piqued her curiosity further.

“How did you end up as that kid’s emergency contact?” she asked, tilting her head to the side. “He’s Megumi’s age, which means he isn’t in high school yet, so you can’t be his teacher.”

“After school program,” he replied sheepishly. “I- I help out in the after-school tutoring program Yuuji goes to. His parents aren’t around, and I’m the most consistent one there, so he asked if he could put me down as his emergency contact. Figured it’s better than him not having anyone.” He shrugged. “I’ve only met Megumi once. He’s- he’s a cousin, isn’t he? Looks just like those twins. Maki and Mai, right? I- remember you mentioning them once or twice when we were together.”

“A cousin,” she confirmed, pursing her lips to the side as she checked her watch. It had been longer than ten minutes. Much longer. “I- should go. Maki and Mai tend to come over on the weekends, so they’re probably at my place now. Thank you for- apologizing. And explaining.”

He shoved his hands in his pockets as he nodded.

“I’m- thank you again for hearing me out,” he said, watching her push herself to her feet. “Will I- I know I said I won’t push, I just- wanna ask if- I’ll see you around?”

“I’ll be at the twins’ next soccer game,” she replied, and his eyes lit up. “I- I’ll be at all of their soccer games if I’m not working. Though, Mai is gonna be out for the next two.”

“Can I-” he paused. “If I go, would it be okay if I sat with you? Or just- if I just came and said ‘hi’ instead of sitting with you. I don’t wanna crowd-”

“Ask me again if you see me there,” she cut him off, unable to fight the small smile at his rambling. “I’ll- see you around, Gojo.”