#no way in hell it's already been 3 years??

[wandascrush]

If I’d Told You

Pairing: Ellie Williams x f!reader

Summary: You and your best friend, Ellie, argue on patrol- of course her smartass finds a way to make it up to you

Warnings: Arguing, cursing, kissing, fluff, Ellie being a smartass, first date vibes

A/N: This is my first time writing for Ellie, I enjoyed it and I hope you do too <3

The building looms slanted against the skyline—windows shattered, half its sign hanging by a rusted chain. Something about it doesn’t feel right, but of course you’re already walking toward it like you own the place. Ellie is quick to follow behind you.

“I’ll go first,” you say, casual.

“Like hell you are,” Ellie snaps.

You turn on your heels. “Why not?”

She shrugs, a little too stiff. “Because I said so.”

“That’s not an answer.”

“I’m older.”

“By, what, six months?”

“Still counts.”

You smirk. “You’re just mad ‘cause I beat you at target practice yesterday.”

Ellie scoffs. “You got lucky.”

“Five bullseyes is not luck. That’s talent, idiot. How many months in a row have I beat you now?”

She mutters something under her breath that might be “show-off” or “fuckin’ cute”. Hard to tell. You step up to the doorway, peeking inside. Ellie grabs your elbow before you cross the threshold.

“Seriously. Lemme go first.”

You tilt your head, quirking your eyebrow, “Why?” A part of you knew why, but you still wanted her to say it. Wanted her to admit that you’re not alone in what you’ve been feeling for her these past two years.

She was your best friend, but you wanted more.

Ellie pauses. It’s just long enough to mean something.

“…Fine. I give up.”

She lets go of your arm. “You go. Not like I care or anything.”

You arch a brow. “Wow. That sounded incredibly convincing.”

She glares. “Whatever. If you die, I’m not dragging your body back.”

“So you do care.”

“Shut up. Not like you’d be the first body anyway,” she mumbles, suddenly hyper-focused on her backpack straps.

Something about the way she says it so casually hurts your chest, almost makes you whince. You get quiet.

Ellie yawns, “Well…ya goin in there or is someone too chicken shit?”

Your eyes shoot her a sharp glance, “Don’t be an asshole, Williams.”

Williams. That was the special name you reserved for her when she pissed you off, and boy did she know it.

——————————-

You’re riding side by side, hooves crunching dead leaves, but the air feels quieter. You haven’t said much since before entering the building.

Ellie keeps glancing at you out of the corner of her eye. Like she wants to say something. Like she’s chewing on it.

“Sooo…you mad at me?”

What she said, about the bodies, wasn’t supposed to bother you But for some reason, it did. It made you feel like just another corpse.

You shrug.

“I dunno. Are you mad at me?”

She groans under her breath, dragging a hand down her face “Fuck. No. I’m not. I was just being—dumb. Overprotective or whatever.”

You look over at her, smirking, “What was that?”

“I didn’t mean to be a dick,” she says, softer. “I just—you going in there alone made me freak out a little. And instead of, like, being normal about it… I acted like an asshole.”

“So yeah. Sorry,” Ellie kicks a chunk of gravel, “but uh… to make up for it, I was thinking… maybe later, after patrol, you could come by the church basement?”

You raise a brow, hopping off of your horse and walking it the rest of the way, “…For confession?”

She snorts. “No idiot. You know me better than that. For music.”

“Music?”

“Yeah. I fixed that busted speaker Joel gave me. Found some tapes. Thought you might wanna—hang out. Eat shitty ration snacks. Figured maybe we could… I dunno. Listen to something. If you’re not busy or whatever.”

Her voice cracks halfway through the sentence. She hides it by messing with the rocks again.

You’re not sure what’s cuter—Ellie trying to act like this isn’t a date, or the fact that she’s clearly been working on this just for you, “You fixed this?”

“Yeah, well. Tried to. Joel taught me some stuff. And… you like music, so?”

“So it’s a date.”

She grins, looking down. You think she might actually explode if you called this a date again. Her cheeks flush red as she scratches the back of her neck, “I mean—only if you want it to be. Or not. Whatever.”

You let her fumble for a second, then nudge her shoulder gently.

“It’s a date. You could’ve just said that.”

Ellie looks at you—really looks at you—and her whole face softens.

“I thought you’d laugh if I’d told you…but cool. Yeah. Cool.” She doesn’t stop smiling the rest of the walk.

————————-

Church basement- 8 pm

Ellie kneels by the speaker, fiddling with a clunky cassette player until a low hum fills the store. It clicks. The sound is staticky but warm. Some old song from before the world went to hell—slow, kind of dreamy.

“I found this tape in the back. Figured it sounded like something you’d like. Or like… I don’t know. Maybe I liked it ‘cause I thought of you.”

She definitely didn’t mean to say that part out loud. Ellie goes so red. She scratches the back of her neck, her fingers twitching like they’re looking for something to hold on to. She finds her guitar instead.

You let it sit there for a second. Then you lean against the display case beside her, real close. Your breath ghosts over her shoulder- you know what you do to her.

“You thought of me?”

“Ugh. You’re so annoying. Forget I said that.”

But you don’t. You never will.

⸻

You two sit cross-legged on the floor, passing a shared can of peaches like it’s fine wine. Her knee brushes yours. She doesn’t move away. A few songs in, she gets a little brave—starts humming under her breath. Trying to play a few cords.

“You’ve got a good voice,” you say.

“Shut up.”

“I mean it.”

“You’re just saying that ‘cause you’re trying to make me quiet again.”

You smirk, crawling across the floor and resting your head in the space between her thighs to look up at her.

“Is it working?”

It is. So fucking much. She can practically hear the beat of her heart against her ribs and her hands feel all tingly. But she doesn’t answer.

She just smiles, soft and small, and reaches out—slow, unsure—and lets her thumb trace the curve of your bottom lip.

Your breath catches. Your heart trips. Now you’re the blushing mess, trying not to look up at her like you used to. Ellie catches your shyness in a second- turns your head back to her gently, “Don’t let your eyes wander anywhere else, pretty girl.”

She leans down slowly, her nose brushing yours- you just lean in and meet her halfway. The kiss is soft, clumsy, and perfect in its hesitation. You sit up to face her head on and her strong hands quickly find your jaw, shaky and warm.

And for a second, the world goes completely still. No infected. No guns. No patrol. Just her and you and this basement, and this kiss. You smile into it, brushing your nose against hers. Soft hands press against the middle of her chest, “Your hearts beating fast, Williams.”

“Williams? What, you’re mad at me now?” Ellie grins.

“Furthest thing from it,” and you lean in for another kiss.

[eternityofend]

A DC X Reader Isekai (But the reader doesn't know what world they're in)

Summary: You have a job that allows you to get commissioned in any city by anyone. During your job, you meet Barry Allen— the forensic scientist— for the seventh time already, and a man from Smallville still learning how to be human.

Tags: Fluff, Barry Allen overworks himself, awkwardness, wrote this instead of sleeping, pre-canon, eventual romance, slowburn, Clark Kent is an idiot, teasing, tension.

Wc: 3k+ words.

When you were born, things looked out to be different for you than for most average people.

For one, you had memories of a past life. That alone granted you the ability to surpass the other children.

You had the skills to understand mathematical equations, most didn't; the reading comprehension and speech mannerisms of a fully grown adult, the emotional intelligence of a therapist, and more.

Everyone's compliments kept pouring out saying, you had so much potential. Hell, why wouldn't you? In your past life, you were so desperate to make a living, you picked up every job you could.

As a result, you were seen as a "gifted child," a title you believed was extraordinary for a year straight.

Until you made a mistake, and everyone stepped back.

That day, whispers caught your ears. "I thought they were intelligent?" your classmate giggled— you minded your business, putting your books back into the locker— "If even (Name) makes mistakes, doesn't that mean I can be better than them in the future?"

You slammed the locker. A flaming inferno sparking in your heart, was that all they saw you as? A mindless machine that couldn't make mistakes?

A single mistake was all it was, but apparently, your entire class focused on your failure instead of your achievements.

They were waiting for you to break, so they could take your place.

After that day, countless expectations burdened your shoulders. Each disregarding what you wanted, so you gave up.

What point was there in presenting a piece of paper with a high score, if all it did was make them see you more as non-human?

The phone rang, its vibrations shaking the entire bedside table. The light peeking through the slit of the curtains lit up half the room.

Groaning, you grabbed your phone, pulling it under your blanket as you answered the call.

"This is (Name), what can I do to help?" You murmur, turning to the other side of your bed, eyes still closed as if a heavy weight was draped on it.

"Good morning (Name), a new commission came in for you. Somewhere in Central City. I'll send you the details of it through a message."

You groaned, "What's the job about?" lifting the blanket from your body, "And how much is the pay?" You held the phone against your ear.

"A forensic scientist is willing to pay $200 as long as you get him ingredients from Metropolis and deliver them to the lab."

You stood up, "Anything else worth mentioning?" Opening the door to the bathroom, you grabbed your toothbrush. "Or ish' that all?"

"Should be all." The person on the other line hung up.

You looked like a mess even after an hour later of preparing. Getting a ping from your phone, the details were finally sent.

Grabbing your biking attire and hanging the phone on the mount, you revved up the engine and read along the way.

Shit ton of tools rather than ingredients, moving your eyes back on the road, you noted they weren't the hardest to find, just a matter of whether they were in stock or not.

The address was from the same lab you visited six times in the past month. At that point, you were all but acquainted with the one who keeps sending you on these crazy trips.

Wasn't a lab supposed to have their own supplier? Why did they need someone like you?

By the time you arrived, that question still hadn't been answered. It had been 3 hours already, consisting of finding the tools and ingredients, then driving safely to the roads filled with traffic in Central City.

Box of fragile tools being carried with a single arm, you knocked on the door labeled "Lab," and received silence instead.

You knocked again, waiting for a few seconds before sighing.

"Allen, if you don't open this door, I'm gonna drop the entire box on the floor."

You heard clutter on the inside, a single person's footsteps echoing throughout the empty lab, doing everything but opening the door.

"Barry Allen," you call out his name again, or rather the name he made you call him by.

The door finally opens, a man in a lab coat leaning against the doorway, a few stray hairs poking out of his luscious locks of blond hair.

"(Name), sorry for taking a while. I was identifying and comparing some evidence on the microscope. It's from one of the cases I took up about the crime on 57th street—" His rambling gets shut down with a stare.

You intercept his ramble, "Allen, you do know that you wrote down that you needed a new lens?"

He looks to the side, groaning. "I just wanted to seem like I was doing something. It's boring in here, I'm the only one on duty today."

Entering the lab, you put down the box on his desk to transfer everything.

"It's not like you have much coworkers to help you anyway," you murmur.

Barry scoffs, "Rude, and also, I hate that you're right." He runs a hand through his hair.

"But I can't help it (Name), the lab just calls to me and I feel restless if I don't do my job and help out in solving cases, I can't just sit around and do something like..."

You raise a brow, "Like?" and he doesn't respond. Emptying the box, you put a hand on his shoulder, "Barry, when did you last sleep?"

He blinks, "I'm not sure," he pauses when he receives your stare, "A week ago, I think."

Closing your eyes, you scoff, "Explains why you're so jittery today, running on coffee, are you, Allen?" You make him sit down, "Just keep talking until you fall asleep."

Barry's eyes widen, "I can't. Fall asleep, I mean. I'm literally on duty, I can't risk another day to work on the case when it should be solved immediately." he watches your movements as you work on installing the new objective lens.

"And this immediately of yours, is it labeled a case to be solved at once, or is it just your workaholic tendency acting up again?"

He tries remembering if the case said anything about a tight deadline. Hell, the last time they had a tight deadline was four months ago. It was worth mentioning that Central City was relatively safe compared to Gotham.

The only crimes were probably burglary. A murder case was once in a blue moon. On the positive side, at least, cases of theft were still part of his job.

"Just take a day off, Allen," You interrupt his thoughts, checking the board as you saw barely any cases stuck onto it; except for the one where they had to find who stole some random woman's dog.

"(Name), look, I appreciate you checking up on how I'm doing," he starts, furrowing his brows, "But my job is my job, I don't know when I'm needed on the field, I have to stay on duty even if it's useless cases like.. that," he sighs in defeat, staring at the case on the board.

You put a hand on his head, making him face down, both of you going silent. "I don't know you that much, but you already know my number and that's enough," ruffling his hair, you walk to the exit.

"Give me a call when you need help," walking out of the room. You scratch the back of your neck, wondering if you overstepped and ended up crossing his boundaries.

It was in the afternoon when you got a call, your phone ringing in your pocket on the way home.

"You know how it goes. Kansas, Smallville, $50."

The message containing the details was sent to you instantly, instead of an hour's wait like before.

Revving up the engine, you put on your helmet and used the GPS on your phone. Smallville was a familiar place, a few occasional visits, but nothing big.

Someone's breaker sparked and shut down all the power in their house. Why did they call you? Probably a reason you don't care about.

If money were provided, you'd do all the jobs they assigned you to do.

You lost track of your thoughts when you saw the sign for Smallville, looking into the distance and seeing the small town.

It was different from the busy roads of Central City and the looming buildings of Metropolis. Gotham shouldn't even be mentioned.

Parking your motorcycle in front of the location, you checked out the main breaker that was placed outside.

"I haven't seen you around," a man's voice came from your left. Deep, though not intimidating, the voice had rumbles but had a soothing tone, kind.

"Good, because it'd be weird if you saw me here," you continued to work on the breaker, realizing the problem.

"I'd just like to ask, what exactly are you doing with Mr. Albarac's breaker?" He asked, letting himself into the backyard, judging by the way you heard a fence open and the noise of footsteps on grass.

"He paid me. What's your business doing in his backyard?" You asked back, still not looking back at him.

"I'm simply worried if someone's committing a crime in a good man's backyard," he bit back, voice directly behind you.

"Well, I'm not, so you should go."

The breaker hisses. Just how damaged were the wires to get into this state? The crackling gets louder, and you reel back, grabbing the man's collar to pull him back with you, until he does something you didn't expect.

"Get back," he says rather calmly for a person who's about to experience an arc flash.

He turns you around, encaging you in his arms as the breaker completely explodes with a burst of light and heat, flames following soon after.

You feel the man turn his head, his other hand raising to touch the breaker as your eyes widen, "Don't! That shit can reach up to 35,000—" you stumble on your words when you see him expel the fire with just a flick of his hand.

"..Fahrenheit," you push him off of you, checking the breaker, it was completely wrecked, that was for sure.

You must've made a mistake during the process, but then again, you remember the wires looking weird. They must've corroded, then when you touched it, and made an error of thinking it was just a regular fix, it exploded.

Maybe you shouldn't take up electricity-related jobs next time, you weren't that experienced in that area anyway.

Right. The man.

"How the hell did you do that?" You asked, looking towards him, finally seeing what he looked like.

He was attractive to say the least, with clean, sleek black hair and a singular, small curl. Blue eyes that were the color of the skies, and a body that was meant for functionality rather than traditional strength.

"Keep it a secret for me, please," he says, staring into your eyes. It's a bit unnerving how he pleads, yet his facial expressions don't match.

"Only if you answer my question," you ask, eyes narrowing, "Are you from... another planet? Or universe, whatever floats your boat."

He tenses up, "Indeed, I am. How exactly did you come to that conclusion?" He raises a hand to his chin, "Was I that obvious?"

You blink, "No. You weren't. Just a hunch," you run a hand through your hair as you realize you have a bigger problem than whatever this guy was.

The money.

"My name's Clark Kent, and you are?" He asks, patiently waiting for a response.

"I'm.. someone. Just call me (Name), not like there's much else to call me."

You look at your hands, cursing in your head, this mistake would probably cause you to lose a bit of your reputation.

The owner comes outside, Mr.. what was his name again? You didn't care much to read it, or listen to what Clark said about the house owner's name.

"I heard an explosion. Oh my, Clark, is that you, my boy?" The owner asked, you looked in his direction and saw an old man who had a walking stick, smiling.

Clark smiled back, "Good morning, Mr. Albarac, I saw that you had someone work on your breaker and asked who they were. Unfortunately, they got distracted by me and I led them to make a mistake," he shook his head, "I apologize for that."

You furrowed your brows, taking the blame? Seriously? Just who was this man? You sighed, crossing your arms.

"For a case like this, you should've called an electrician.. Sir. The job detail came with nothing else but a quick fix until I realized last second your wires were corroded, and exploded when I made contact with an energized part."

The old man stares, Clark blinks, and you run a hand over your face. "Your wires rusted, and when I touched an area full of energy, it exploded."

The house owner nods, "I see. That's on me, then. I didn't realize that breakers were so complicated. Here, I'll give you more money for this old man's mistake."

Clark glares, you take a glance at him and shrug. Then, it was as if he was sizing you up, completely assuming you were taking advantage of the man.

Scratching your neck, you sighed in loss, "No need, Sir. Just give me the original price, and I'll call an electrician to sort out the breaker for you."

The old man shakes his head, "No, no, if you won't take money. Won't you give this old man a favor and come in? I'd like to treat you to lunch, you too, Clark."

This time, both Clark and you are in sync, eyes widening at the same time as you shook your head no.

"Well, I'd be delighted to, but—" you get cut off by Clark, who grabs your hand and says, "We'd love that."

You glare at him, he smiles back, eyes talking a language you didn't know how you could even understand in the first place.

Let him, he's asking for a favor after all.

You bite your lip, furrowing your eyebrows before clicking your tongue, "Yes.. we'd be absolutely happy to eat... lunch with you, Sir."

The man goes in, expecting you two to follow him into his house.

You take the time to slap Clark's hand away, "We're not close, nor are you someone who can control my decisions," looking away, you follow the old man.

Clark hesitates before walking in beside you, "I apologize. However, I must ask, is it not... wrong to refuse a favor? Especially from elders, they are the ones to be respected."

You put a hand on your hip, pausing, "That's your view of the world. No one shares the same view as you. While you're all sunshine and kindness rules the world... the rest function on whatever fucked up sense of morality they have."

His mouth drops a bit, nose scrunching up, and you're a tad bit guilty.

"You look like a kicked puppy." You walk towards him, pulling him in by his chin. Eyes facing towards yours, "You can live your happy-go-life, I'm fine with that. Just don't fucking speak for me, I'm not someone you can order around and expect me to follow." You detach from him, walking into the dining room.

Clark jogs to keep up with you, "I apologize, again.. I didn't realize I wronged you. I just haven't spoken to anyone in a while except for my 'Ma and my 'Pa and.. well, the entire neighborhood." He realizes his mistake and clears his throat, "I just haven't talked to a city folk like you," he reasons out, genuinely thinking about it.

"We're all familiar with each other here, so I forgot what it felt like to have someone new."

He sits down across from you, sitting straight as he puts his hands on his lap, waiting patiently for your response, again.

"I told you, I'm fine with... whatever viewpoint you have of the world. I just have hatred for people who try to command me, as if I'm a machine they..." you shake your head, "You won't be getting more from me."

The old man interrupts your conversation, "Now, I don't know what you like, but I sure hope you like this apple pie I baked. My boy, Clark likes it, and I wish you do too."

Your anger simmers a bit, taking a knife to slice it up and transferring it to your plate. The moment the taste of it exploded on your tongue, the irritation you had disappeared, sighing in relief.

"It's very good, Sir. You have nothing to worry about," you murmur, continuing to eat more, "It's delicious."

Clark continues to stare at you, even despite him eating. His eyes were still locked onto you as if you were the one from outer space and not him.

But then again, between you and him. He was from another planet, you might've as well been from another universe. So maybe that stare of his wasn't exactly wrong.

The old man lets you pack leftovers, not making you leave without a second apple pie. It's only when you're at the front door that you realize Clark is still following you from behind.

"What is your problem?" You hiss, making him pause.

He fidgets, playing with his hands, it's almost stupid. He was an utter dork in a hot body.

"I'd like to talk to you more. If that's alright."

You tense, taking a breath in as you pinch your nose. The man was probably still unfamiliar with everything since he lived in a small town, and you were being an asshole to him for no reason.

Well, a reason but that wasn't his fault for activating one of your... bad experiences.

You hand him a phone number, closing his hand into a fist, "Don't lose it, because I don't expect to come back here. If you really wanna talk, just call me."

Turning around, you left him behind as you grabbed your helmet and turned on your motorcycle.

You hear him say something before you rev the engine. "Are you still mad?"

Laughing, you raise your visor and say, "I'll only be mad if you ask that one more time." You smirk and put down your visor.

"I'll talk to you on the phone, Kent."

You drive off, noticing the time. Hell, it had been such a long day, you couldn't even grab a drink at that one bar you visited frequently.

The drive was pretty long, and you were exhausted. You talked to three people, and the interactions alone made you question your decisions.

Looking into the night, you took a breath in and exhaled.

You'd talk to Constantine all about this day, tomorrow.

Right now, you just need to get the fuck back home.

[urfavoritewritersfavoritewriter]

chapter 7: no longer soup season

masterlist

06 | 07 | 08

word count: 2k

warnings: death, parental drug addiction, drugs, homelessness, poorly written angst, limited use of y/n

After dinner Jack was embarrassed. He had ruined his family dinner, and he ruined a relationship that his own parents thought would end in marriage. He had never explicitly introduced y/n as his girlfriend, but he never pretended that’s not what they were. While he may have never brought her to his family lake house, he also never partied there anymore, he never bought girls drinks or brought them home. He understood his families frustration, hell he was more upset than they’d ever be. He didn’t know how he did it or why he said those things. He didn’t know if it was some self sabotage or if it was some insecurity he had about always being used for attention, money, or connections.

As they all left the restaurant he fell behind, he was grateful he and Luke drove separately because the last thing he wanted was his baby brother ripping into him, even if he deserved it. As he went to his car, Quinn walked up.

“Luke is taking mom and dad to your place, you’re taking me to my hotel” Quinn said opening the passenger seat, giving Jack no choice in the matter.

“Yeah. Whatever man,” Jack said opening the drivers side door. It should be her in the passenger seat, they should be going to her place, he shouldn’t be driving his brother back and she shouldn’t be in some pretentious douchebags car.

“Who’s that girl from dinner?” Quinn asked, wanting to hear it all from the horses mouth.

“Long story. Not in the mood” Jack mumbled taking the car out of park.

“Well I am in the mood,” Quinn said turning off the rap Jacks phone played as it automatically connected to bluetooth.

“Jesus fuck, what do you want to know then?” Jack huffed wishing he could mute his brother the same way Quinn muted the music.

“Everything, I need to know how you got in the situation so I can figure out how to get you out of it” Quinn said suddenly feeling philanthropic compared to when he was threatening to take her from him only 3 hours prior.

Jack huffed knowing there was no chance of him successfully arguing with Quinn, so he didn’t, he started talking, from the very beginning.

“We met during her first year of college, my second year in the league, she was a bartender at a bar near Prudential. She was nice, pretty enough, heavy pourer, quick too. I don’t know there just wasn’t any attraction there immediately” Jack huffed while changing lanes, already cringing.

“No attraction, at all, to her, are you fucking blind?” Quinn asked, truly in shock, even knowing she was spoken for, she was one of the most beautiful women he’s seen. It wasn’t the kind of instagram beauty your explore page is flooded with, she had 90’s supermodel features, supremely real and authentic.

“I don’t know man! It was dark and I was always mad when I was there and there were girls that were… more my type I guess,” Jack said back trying to find a way to be nice without being dishonest. It wasn’t even that he was more attracted to them, it was like she wasn’t an option. She was pretty but not WAG pretty.

“Are you attracted to her now?” Quinn hesitated to ask. Jack had been a dick before, for a long time, it was hard not to be when you were attractive, never having had an awkward phase, and being one of the best athletes in the world. But this would be a new low, to string her along for this long.

“Yes! God yes! The simplest thing makes me—you’re my brother, I’m not telling you that” Jack said abruptly cutting himself off before Quinn pushed him to keep talking, and when Jack stayed silent Quinn said, “you’ve had sex in the same room I was sleeping in, don’t give me the gory details, but Jesus, don’t act like a saint”

Jack groans softly at the memory of when he was 17 and didn’t really consider how sex would work sharing a room with your 19 year old brother.

“It’s fucking anything, watching her take off her makeup, reach up to grab a mug and her shirt rides up just enough to show the lace trim of her underwear, watching her brush her cat, watching her move her glasses up her nose, fucking christ, I feel like my dick gets hard when she fucking texts me” he groaned loudly feeling like that 17 year old who knew nothing about sex, that had to Jack off at a semi realistic drawing of boobs.

Jack continues, “it’s so bad that I think her in pajamas or a sundress is sexier than anything she’d wear going out. It’s not that I don’t like her body, I love her body, but knowing I’m the only one seeing her dressed down is… Jesus fucking Christ, what is wrong with me?” Jack loudly groaned wishing he could bash his head into the head rest

“Okay, so you weren’t attracted to her in the beginning because?”

“Fuck, I don’t know, she wasn’t what I was used to, she wasn’t one of the girls the guys brought around”

“And that’s why you never brought her to the lake house?” Quinn asked.

Each summer Quinn and Jack would spend as much time as possible at their lake house in Michigan, they purchased it during their second season in the NHL, Luke getting his portion when he got into the major leagues. Every summer they would cram as many people as possible in that lake house, friends, friends of friends, family, family friends, partners of all these people, it was a revolving door of people and Jack and Quinn loved it.

But in those summer days it often became cliquey, people who felt like they had seniority or people who thought they were the most valuable or notable. The women often became like that, girlfriends of more popular players feeling entitled to better seats on the boat, or the last watermelon white claw, and it didn’t go unbeknownst to Jack and Quinn that they could be more mean to the girls of less popular players, or women they deemed less attractive.

You didn’t even need to be ugly to be unattractive by their standards, if you had no lip filler, no dyed hair, and weren’t rail thin, you were disqualified. And you couldn’t be too busy or poor, so nurses, teachers and students are out. You can’t be too popular either, so influencers, singers are also out. But you can’t be unemployed, because why would you spend your whole life waiting on a man, gold digger. So if you’re a pretty, blonde, marketing major from an SEC school or a pseudo intellectual artist with connections to museums or interior designers, you’re in!

“I don’t know, I guess, she’s so fucking weird, she wouldn’t fit in with them, you know. I don’t want to expose too much I guess, but she’s weird with money” Jack said rubbing his face.

“Yeah, I can tell, called her greedy for what, accepting shit you threw at her after she rejected it 10 times? Man, what is wrong with you?” Quinn asked with a loud sigh.

“I don’t know, she was the first girl I’ve dated who needed money and didn’t take it from me. She walked 20 miles home in one of the most dangerous cities in the country and I didn’t do anything, I couldn’t do anything,” Jack insisted, on the brink of pulling over and making Quinn do the rest of the driving.

“So you made her feel bad for taking it because she didn’t take more of it?”

“I don’t know what I did! You think I feel great about my choice? No! And she fucking defended me when mom was shocked I don’t help her more. God she’d be so mad if she saw the shithole I let her live in” Jack groans feeling worse second by second, but Quinn is right, getting it all out in the open will make it easier to go back and figure out how to fix it.

“Show it to me, drive to it” Quinn demanded, needing to know how bad it really was. Jack groaned but changed the directions on his phone to her address, maps immediately showing a warning for high rates of violent crime in the area.

“It doesn’t scare her though” Jack hummed driving slower as they get into more residential areas. “Grew up around it, she told me, used to get sick from the fumes of people cooking dope—as she called it” he said, the phrasing feeling foreign on his lips.

From cul de sac to cul de sac to high rise apartment, Jack had never come close to anyone who used, aside from the recreational cocaine user, but nothing like this.

“She made me feel better about it in a way, I guess I was inadvertently a bit mean, ignoring homeless people and whatever but the average American is closer to being homeless than people like us” he mumbled stopping in front of her building. A small bench sat across the street that she had built.

“That’s her and Lizzie’s bench” Jack says pointing across the street to a small wooden bench with a sleeping bag covered form on it.

“Lizzie?”

“Lizzie was some old woman who lived on that corner that y/n befriended after buying her a pack of cigarettes. Lizzie really liked Marlboros but they were expensive so she only ever bought Newports” Jack explained pretending he understood anything about cigarettes or the difference in cost or quality, “but to make a long story short y/n started buying her Marlboros when she had the extra cash and when Lizzie died, y/n saved up all the money she would’ve spent on Lizzie’s cigarettes for a bench that other people can sleep on. I guess Lizzie filled the void of a mother for her.” Jack explained as Quinn took in the area.

“Man, this is really fucking awful,” Quinn sighed rubbing his face seeing all the abandoned homes and drug deals that happen outside of her place.

Jack nodded in agreement but truly, what was he supposed to do, have her move in with him and Luke? He looks up at her building, one of the only windows not boarded up or broken, just Betty sitting in the windowsill with warm light behind her. It was like even the people who vandalized her building saw her as a light, as someone undeserving of that violence.

“She’s more comfortable here than at school or my place” Jack mumbled back, “doesn’t think she fits in or deserves nice shit or whatever” Jack grunted leaning back in his seat.

“Yeah, you’re doing a shit job at making her feel like she does deserve it, you think she doesn’t know that you don’t invite her to things for a reason” Quinn sighed back like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“Don’t let her just order soup at dinner, don’t let her do her own eyebrows, don’t let her cut her own hair, stop letting her live like she’s poor when you wouldn’t let any other girl you’re seeing live like that. Just because the bar is low doesn’t mean you don’t need to do as much, it means you need to do more. Especially if you think you love her as much as you do.” Quinn said before continuing on his soapbox “and stop doing this shit where you don’t publicly claim her at the lake house or don’t introduce her as your girlfriend or go out partying with other girls when she isn’t there and then act shocked that she thinks you’re embarrassed of her” Quinn says finally ending his tangent when he sees her look out her window and see Jacks car. She gives them a small wave before closing her blinds.

A/N: I actually lowkey hate this chapter ahaha BUT WHATEVER it’s more buildup to Jack actually groveling and it gives background as to why she feels the way she does!

[jounossloverr]

TALKING ABOUT DAZAI AND CHUUYAS RELATIONSHIP

Bsd manga spoilers + Stormbringer + Dead Apple + Dazai, Chuuya Age 15

Asagiri confirmed yesterday that after Dazai left the Port Mafia, Chuuya thought he died after not being able to find him.

I saw people saying that Chuuya didn't care about it, after he thought Dazai died. The fandom has been saying since years that Chuuya doesn't care about Dazai.

TRANSLATED BY HUAWYN ON TWITTER!! :

"Since he hadn't found Dazai, who was working as a detective in Yokohama, he probably thought Dazai was already dead. After all, Dazai always wanted to die, so Chuuya didn't expect much."

The truth is, Dazai and Chuuya dislike eachother, but they have a very strong bond and care about eachother in a different way. People can have complex feelings to eachother and care about the person.

They have know eachother since 7 years, they literally saw eachother grow up as adults. In the Port Mafia they were partners and even got their own partner name "Double Black / Soukoku", which shows what a great team they are. You also can see that through the manga chapters.

In the prison arc, Dazai immediately knew Chuuya was not a vampire. They could even communicate with each other without talking with their mouths. They created a plan in secret immediately. This is how good they understand each other.

How can someone look at them and say "Oh yeah, Chuuya didn't give a hell, when he thought Dazai died." Chuuya doesn't care about Dazai." Dazai doesn't care about Chuuya."

Obviously, they care about eachother, they just won't show it so completely well. I think you can even see 15!Dazai having fun with 15!Chuuya. And when they met again.

Maybe people say, "He only acted like that because the mission was on the line." Yes, it was, but you can't act like he didn't have a worried face. He genuinely thought Dazai was heavily injured. And he was super mad at Dazai when he was only joking and maybe slightly embarrassed after letting that side out of him.

In the Guild arc, when they fought against Lovecraft, Dazai got thrown into a tree, and Chuuya, who supposedly "doesn't give a shit about Dazai," looked like this.

In the same arc, Chuuya stated he celebrated with a Petrus 1889 after Dazai left. I'm actually surprised how many people believe that he genuinely was happy, maybe because the Anime ruined this scene and many Anime watchers saw it like that.

In the manga, his face expressing does NOT seemed pleased. He is looking down, no happiness seen anywhere. Chuuya felt betrayed when Dazai just vanished from the Port Mafia without a word to anyone. They were close to eachother, I think more than anyone in the Port Mafia.

In Dead Apple, you see Chuuya risking his life for Dazai to save him, when there was a possibility Dazai was already dead, but he trusted his gut.

Imagine seeing a person who you trust your life with, suddenly vanishing without a word, and not appearing for 4 years. Chuuya thought Dazai was dead and then he suddenly was found in the ADA.

Chuuya also seemed angry when Dazai was in that basement and seeing Chuuya for the first time in 4 years again.

Reminder that this was 2-3 years ago before Dazai left. Chuuya lost his Sheep friends, the Flags, the detective, and Adam. They all were close to him, even more than Dazai at that time. After that, Dazai was the closest person to Chuuya.

Lastly, I want to address Chuuya's old friends, his deceased ones, and the Sheep ones.

And then Dazai vanished, leaving Chuuya alone, just like his friends.

[aurorag98]

The damn prince of Rome

Lucius Verus x f!Reader!General Acacius' daughter

Misc masterlist

SUMMARY: After the death of your father, General Acacius, and your stepmother Lucila, the only thing you have left is Lucius, but he does everything he can to keep you away from him.

WARNING(S): SMUT +18, oral sex (f receives).

NOTES: I haven't written in over a year, so this is probably going to be terrible, but I watched Gladiator II again and I know I should have written a Lucius fanfic when it came out in December last year.

He was alone and wanted to remain alone. Arishat was his whole world; he knew she was waiting for him on the other side of the river.

Then there was you, the daughter of General Acacius, the promise he had made to your father when all those arrows pierced him in the Colosseum, the promise he had made to his own mother when she died from an arrow just like Arishat had died.

He had lost everything, had put an end to Macrinus, and the hope for a free Rome was sweeter than ever—the dream of his grandfather.

But he was still alone; his nights were moonless and dark. He had moved far from Rome and had a stone house, a garden, a goat, and some hens.

You were about to marry some rich merchant who had promised to take care of you, so he could partially free himself from that promise.

Until you showed up in his life again without warning, at night, on horseback, with your head covered.

“What the hell are you doing here?”

“Hi Lucius! I’m glad to see you too,” you answered, dismounting from the horse.

“You’re getting married in 3 days.” He helped you tie the horse in the small stable.

“Yes, to the man you decided was good for me…” you replied defensively, entering his house without asking permission. He followed you.

“It was the best thing for you; your father made me promise him I would take care of you.”

“My father would never have forced me to marry like you did! Do you hate me so much that you want me far from you and miserable?” you asked with tears in your eyes, pulling the blanket off your head.

He sighed; you had argued about this before.

“You know I don’t hate you.”

“You hated my father.”

“In the end I understood everything. I didn’t take your father’s life, and I just want you to be safe.”

“Far from you.” You sighed, sniffing.

He hated when you cried. You were the only thing he had, the only thing he had left, and it was so hard to be near you.

“I have a target on my back! I’ll always be the grandson of Marcus Aurelius, the damn prince of Rome. I’m a threat, and if they’ve left me alone until now it’s because I made it very clear I don’t want to get involved. I only want peace. If I arranged your marriage with Marianus it was because he’s a kind man who already had children and only wants companionship—he won’t ask you to lie in bed with him.”

“Lucius, do you want me to remain chaste and pure my whole life? Why are you marrying me off to a man older than my late father?”

“I don’t want you to suffer.”

“I’m already suffering! Don’t you understand? I’ll be unhappy with that old man for the rest of my life. He’s kind and good to me, but that’s not enough.”

“It’s more than enough! With him, you’re safe.”

“I’ll die of boredom with him! His children are older than me.”

“You’re a spoiled child; you understand nothing…” Lucius scoffed, turning his back on you.

“You could have married someone you loved.”

“Don’t go that way.” He warned you turning around.

His blue eyes looked lethal and his lips were set in a war grimace, you had seen him kill men and cut off heads, tear bodies apart and fight like he was possessed by the gods.

“She is dead…” you didn’t have time to answer, he lunged at you like a lion, his hand grasped your neck like a claw lacerating your delicate skin.

You were of the nobility, you grew up in a village with everything at your disposal night and day, he had royal blood running through his veins, but he had been raised by the sun and war.

You felt his breath of sweet grape, Lucius lately drank a lot to get to sleep.

“You will not die chaste and pure.” He whispers to your lips just before he kisses you.

It took your breath away, the sweet and fermented taste mingled and suddenly you remembered all the times you touched yourself thinking of him. In his broad back, in his curls caked with sweat, in his blue eyes and his deep voice.

You hugged him feeling his scars, the slave mark over yhis left shoulder blade, he growled and grabbed your wrists pulling them away from his body.

“Don’t touch me.”

You were in shock, you knew he was drunk perhaps under the effects of opium, that unmistakable smell still traveled in the air.

“Lucius…” you muttered trying to talk some sense into him.

He put his huge hand over your mouth.

“Don’t speak… please.” His eyes were moist.

You nodded and he moved even closer to you, you felt his strong body crushing you against the stone pillar.

His hand traveled quickly through your robes stripping you of your cloak, leaving you in a fine white silk robe.

One of his hands hastily squeezed your breast and you moaned, you felt his beard sting against the skin of your neck and then the wetness of his tongue running along your ear.

You wanted to touch him, so you placed your hand on his chest, covered by thin, worn clothing, and you could feel his skin. The hardness of his member pressing against your belly.

His moans sounded like the growls of a beast.

His hands quickly found their way between your legs, discovering the hot source of pleasure emanating from your pussy, and he knelt before you without warning.

Everything was happening so fast, his eyes barely saw your face of approval and he stuck out his tongue to taste you.

You had never experienced anything like this before.

You had been a good daughter, willing to please your father and stepmother, until their bloody deaths.

Your legs began to tremble, Lucius took your thighs firmly and put your legs over his shoulders, the movement made you let out a small cry of surprise.

He tasted you as if you were divine, a heavenly connection.

You put your hand on his sweat-soaked hair to hold on to something.

It was as if you had lost your footing on the ground, everything was spinning around you.

His licks were loud, full of saliva, he played with your little button, the same one you rubbed until you came.

But his tongue also explored the rest of your pussy, penetrating the entrance hard.

“Oh fuck, Lucius, you’re going to kill me…”

He sucked and then you came. You could have sworn you were pulling his hair, maybe hurting him by digging your nails into his scalp, but he seemed happy. When he pulled away and slowly lowered your feet to the ground, you could see a smile, his lips stained with your pleasure.

He rose until your lips were level and kissed you, tasting yourself on him.

 And then his mouth returned to your ear, his lips whispering.

“You’re perfect, Arishat.”

And everything fell apart. You understood that that was why he didn’t want you to talk to him or touch him. He wanted to imagine that you were his dead wife.

That hurt you more than anything else, more than him forcing you to commit to someone you didn’t love or to stay away from him.

This wasn’t to keep you safe. This was because you weren’t Arishat.

He noticed your body stiffen at his touch and whispered your name.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured like a wounded animal about to cry. “I’m so sorry.”

You had never seen him so broken. You and he had lost everything, but he had remained strong until now.

 You hugged him, and he rested his head on your chest.

The two of you slowly sat down on the floor and curled up together.

You were getting married in three days, and the man you loved was in love with a dead woman whom you could never replace.

[queersyourgender]

hey honey! happy saturday!

do you have anything for a love confession between frank and mel? some fluffy goodness to rot teeth? i’m in love with the ideas of maybe frank being like “i’ve love you” and mel thinking he means as friends until frank is just tired of dancing around and makes her know it’s more romantic ❤️‍🔥

i’ll love anything you come up with bc i adore your writing <3

I Love You — Melissa King x Frank Langdon

Notes: Heya, sweetpea!! Happy Saturday ♡♡!! You're much too kind to me honestly, I'm just a silly littol guy on tumby dot hell //// I hope this is along the lines of what you were thinking, I wrote it while I was out running errands lololol

———

The first time Melissa King hears the words I love you come out Frank Langdon's mouth, they're not directed at her, but at one Yolanda Garcia, and it's as they're all sitting in the breakroom and trying to survive the unbearable July heat with one singular fan blowing a slight breeze around the room while the air conditioner remains out of commission until further notice.

He says it so suddenly, so casually, that she can't help but be slightly startled. “I love you so much, Yoyo,” he tells her again, as he cradles iced americano she'd just come in holding and handed over to him. Yolanda snorts slightly, amused by his behavior as she runs a hand through his silky hair and takes a sip of her own latte. “Seriously, you're the best. I owe you my life.”

With a laugh, Yolanda leans down and presses an exaggeratedly wet kiss onto his already sweaty cheek, though he doesn't seem to particularly mind, in fact preening under the affection. “Another debt to the tally,” she sings, ruffling his brown tufts about before leaving off to Trauma One where she's just been paged.

Melissa blinks with big eyes, looking from Frank to the door Yolanda had just exited through with a war of emotions unfurling in her chest. “I didn't know you and Dr. Garcia were together,” she says quietly, her voice so small and meek that she barely recognizes it, and Frank responds to that by choking on his coffee and barking out a loud laugh.

“Ah, no, we're not,” he corrects gingerly, like that wasn't contradictory to the words he'd just said and the display she'd just witnessed, and the confusion must show on her face because he laughs again and shakes his head. “It's a common misconception, but Yolanda and I are not an item. We're just like that.”

“But you just told her you loved her?” Mel asks, and Frank tilts his head at her consideringly, like he's assessing something about her though she doesn't know what.

“Yeah, of course I love her. She's my best friend,” he says simply, eyeing Mel almost curiously.

The blonde looks back at him for a moment, then nods slowly, as if the pieces of the puzzle in her head had finally come together. “I see,” she mutters, her brows knit together thoughtfully as she blinks at him. Frank blinks back at her expectantly, because he knows her well enough to know that she's not done talking, and she isn't. “So do you love all of your friends?”

Frank tilts his head again. He looks like a particularly curious fox. “Yes, I'd like to think so,” he answers clearly, and she nods again, as she's hit with a sudden and overwhelming wave of a feeling she can't quite identify. It could be fear, or dread, but it weighs heavy on her and stops her from saying her follow-up question.

But Frank's ocean eyes are so welcoming and encouraging that the words spill out of her lips anyway.

“Are we friends?”

Immediately, she wants the ground to split open and swallow her whole. Why, why on earth would she ask him that, all of those things, in that successive order? Is she twelve? Is she a twelve year old with a crush teying to gauge if the person she's interested in like-likes her back? What the hell is the matter with her?

In her spiral, she doesn’t see the way Frank's eyes widen, nor the way his significantly soften afterwards. “Mel,” he calls out to her softly, but she doesn’t quite come out of her head just yet, so he gets up off the comfortable couch and walks all the way towards the other end of the room where she's seated at the table.

Carefully, he lifts her head up by her chin, and Melissa snaps back into herself. “I love you in every way you can think of, Melissa King,” he tells her, and her heart pounds hard against her sternum, threatening to burst through her chest and ram itself between the man's ribs, nestling comfortably within his warm embrace.

She blinks up at him and asks: “So… as a friend?”

Frank's eyes turn unbearably fond, and he leans down and kisses her to correct her.

[rhaenyras-alicent]

can't stop thinking abt the concept of arthur hearing about this 'emrys' throughout different occasions here and there in the beginning of s4, and at first not thinking much of it, then when the name keeps getting repeated from different villains/sorcerers he interacts with, it finally catches his attention and he becomes genuinely concerned. he makes it a bit of a personal mission to find out who he is, but it's all a very lowkey side plot that's not the main focus (think of the 'traitor' arc also in s4). of course he talks about it with merlin, but to avoid suspicion, merlin shuts him down every time and tries to make him think this mysterious sorcerer is nothing to worry about.

as more time goes on, and the more arthur learns about this powerful sorcerer always protecting him from harm, and as much as he hates to admit this to anyone, most of all himself, as he's only ever been taught to hate magic and anything to do with it- he starts realizing 'emrys' is less of this evil entity that he has to hunt down and kill, and more of a guardian angel that he has genuine interest now in getting to meet. which would also be interesting in terms of contradicting morgana's plot in the same season.

then, in the s4 finale, something that merlin does or says at the end makes him finally connect the dots. he says nothing. the season closes with him just.......... left with the unbearable conflict of it all. the feeling of absolute betrayal from his own friend- the closest person to him that he turned out to not really Know at all, the anger at being lied to and his own obliviousness, all with also the gratitude to this man who has been protecting him without asking for anything in return, the confusion of why he's doing any of it, and the question deep down whether he even deserves it. he is just. left with so many questions and contradicting feelings that he just... says nothing. and we are left with this as the cliffhanger for s4's ending.

[tiredguyswag]

it's really cool how almost all the "morally good" characters in cs have to be "pretty" and have anglocentric features and the villains and morally grey characters (specifically men) get to have non white features and by really cool i mean girl get up what the fuck

[auguryofjellyfish]

me @ ken rn

[smartzelda]

Sometimes it's frustrating having worked in video game retail and knowing anything about game/console prices and deals watching people just. Say things online

"Look at this nintendo add for the SNES you could get the console and super mario world for like $100! Companies never do that anymore they're so greedy hahaha"

Yes, companies still bundle consoles with games. And yes, often this means the games come at a reduced price. (Mario Kart World for Switch 2 is $50 in the bundle versus the $80 for physical. When Gamestop was bundling games and controllers with new ps5s to keep away scalpers in like 2022, the games included often would be discounted between $10 and $20 for that bundle.)

Don't get me wrong. Of course less than $200 for a console and a first party game would be swell these days BUT. When you decided to get up in arms over prices these days, did you adjust for inflation? (Because like. It's one thing if the new console you're doing comparisons with the old one is much more expensive even when factoring in inflation. But also like some of those old consoles adjusted for inflation are worth about the same if not more than a switch 2, then it's like...okay? At that point the prices aren't the problem. The root issue is the companies not paying you in accordance with rising inflation.)

Believe it or not YES. Nintendo still does console deals where you can buy their most recent home console with a first party game added in for free! (Listen to me. Listen. In 2021 and 2022 for Christmas it was possible to walk into a video game store and buy a $300 switch bundle that included Mario Kart 8 deluxe and like 3 months free Nintendo Online. In like 2022/2023 for Christmas they also did $350 switch oled bundles that included Mario Kart 8 deluxe and 3 months nintendo online for free. The price of a console for a $60 video game and 3 months of the online service. This isn't some mythic business practice that stopped happening in like 2005 or something. I promise.)

Yes obviously the companies are greedy. They use deals to pull you in to get you to spend more than you expected. They also often have more sales than you're even aware of because they benefit more from people paying full price. They underpay people and they use whatever excuses needed oftentimes to raise prices to keep that profit rising. But it does no one any real good other than allow people to get pissed off to lie or assume things which aren't true. There are so many reasons to dislike companies (esp. Nintendo), you don't need to rely on acting like things used to be so much better in cases that they're not, or treating things that are industry wide standards/issues as something one company is the sole perpetrator of.

Moral of the story, maybe perhaps like do a bit a research instead of assuming whatever thing that pisses you off greatly is 100% true, and direct your ire in the right direction. Ground yourself emotionally and mentally, know what's going on. Be pissed at corporations. You're allowed to be fuckin pissed at corporations. Just please know what tf you're talking about and what exactly the root issue is

[heartshattering]

5 AM

Just me and my overactive mind facing the nighttime again 🙃

[fearandhatred]

.

[tsnbrainrot]

.

[unproduciblesmackdown]

one gets fucked up remembering there'd also be a visual component to Banana's [Touches Immeasurably] Prayer like oh god the audio kills me enough such as it is, our Music, our Performance....and you're me

[tonycries]

Bed Chem - T.F.

Synopsis. No, you’ve never gone through a heat. No, your big bad neighbor, Toji Fushiguro, hasn’t had a rút in years. No, you don’t think you’ll make it out alive when all that changes with your…bed chem.

Pairing. Toji Fushiguro x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! oméga! reader, alpha! Toji, OMÉGAVERSE AU, slight enemies-to-Iovers, rúts, breéding, MARATHONS, cúmplay, búlges, Toji is BIG, heats, face-sítting, 69, spítting, praise, oraI (f + m), knottíng, he goes FÉRAL, DÚMBIFICATION, one use of “ma’am”, fated mates, matíng bites, p talking, breaking furniture, pet names, swéaring.

Word count. 9.9k (whoops)

A/N. Hope you have a lovely week <3

“-oh! And, darling, my friend recently showed me this new serum that could-”

“-help with my…condition, huh?” You’re finishing off, teeth grit almost as hard as your fingers were around your glaring phone. “Mom- I’ve already told you that I want nothing to do with those sketchy inducers. I’d rather stay dormant like this forever.”

There’s slight static crackling from the other end of the line, “I’m just so worried for you, especially with that massive alpha-”

“Who? Wait- Toji?” You’re braving out a chuckle, gut clenching at the memory of your utterly hot new neighbor and his muscles upon drool-worthy muscles. “Y’know, the doctor has already determined that it’s impossible for me to go into my first heat now.”

And despite it all, you can’t help but drink in a deep inhale the moment you step foot into your cozy local convenience store. Only for your senses to be met with…nope. Nothing, again.

“Besides-” Fingers hovering over that angry red End button, you’re speed-walking your way as inconspicuously as possible towards the Heats and Ruts aisle. “-Toji doesn’t have ruts.”

Well… 

Nobody ever said that you weren’t a hypocrite - but, hey, you were desperate at this point. 

Even if you had to consider another one of your mom’s attempts to artificially induce your inner omega into finally putting in the work.

With your goodbyes hastily muttered, and your phone stowed deeply away into one of your pockets, you find yourself slowing down near that one particular section of the Omega shelves. Gulping at the somewhat-shady inducer portion that you found yourself familiar with ever since you’d reached late puberty without a single heat. 

It was ridiculous, but it wasn’t impossible. 

Mandatory school bloodwork revealed you to be an omega - yet, you felt like anything but that. Anything but what you supposedly were as you watched more and more of your fellow omega classmates miss out on a week or two of school to deal with their heats. 

Consoling you with pitying glances and half-hearted complaints that alpha scents were annoying anyway. But you didn’t care if the pheromones were obnoxious, and the cycles even more so.

Your months just came and went by without any of it.

You’d visited many fertility and growth doctors over the years, and not a single one had been able to pinpoint exactly what was blocking you from accessing the pheromones and biology that everyone else could. That you wanted to. 

Hell, even betas were said to have at least a faint ability to smell wafting clouds of musky perfumes.

Most professionals claimed that everything was as it should be, that you might just be dormant - a late-bloomer, if you will. A very, very late bloomer. 

A majority presented at the start of puberty, or perhaps - in only very rare, alleged cases you found on barren forums - after meeting their fated mate. Two souls bound to fill in each other’s missing pieces. 

The theory was something you let yourself indulge in guilty sips, the sort of fantasy that flashed through your mind right before you wound up with yet another heartbreak.

But after graduating college without a mere half-sign of anything to do with your second gender, you vehemently called bullshit on that one. 

Some suggested that you might merely be a beta in disguise. It was almost comforting to think that it might have all been one big mix-up, yet, every medical test after medical test you’d done always came out the same. 

An omega.

“Damn second genders.” You’re grumbling, traitorously curious fingerpads skimming over the sterile boxes of medicines with official-sounding names. You’d tried out a few with the least amount of side-effects before, and it always ended up being a waste of your time (and your paycheck.) “Damn- damn inducers-”

CLACK!

In your reveried haste a few unstable boxes of products found themselves plonking onto the ground. Wincing at the withering glare of the manager unhelpfully peeking in from a few aisles down, you urgently dropped to your knees to put them back-

“Damn, what did those scented lotions do to you? Remind me not to get on your bad side, doll.” 

You see him before you hear him - strong, engulfing hands motioning into your field of vision to dexterously grab at the mess you’d created. 

And then once you hear him it isn’t any better, because you could recognize that richly rumbling baritone anywhere. 

“Wha-” Cutting your own self off with a strangled mess of a yelp the moment your furrowed gaze looks with viridescent eyes. “-oh.”

Oh? Oh?

Toji Fushiguro quirks up one brow in a way that is unfairly attractive, sultry scar engraved onto one side of his sleazy grin tilting up ever-so-slightly. And was that- a dimple? “Heh- n’ the pretty girl says oh. Cat got your tongue, sugar?”

It’s only then that you’re realizing that this was the first time you’d ever been so…close with the man himself. 

Usually settling for grumbling conversations from your doorstep and incoherent text conversations from his toddling, cherub-faced son stealing Toji’s phone.

So ah, there was one thing you’d forgotten to mention to your mother. Sure, you might have let it slip that Toji was…ruggedly handsome - all Herculean physique, a glossy black Harley Davidson bike, and long legs that carried him well over six feet - but you’d always omitted one thing. 

He was just so cocky.

And you can already feel your blood curdling strangely in your veins, scoffing out a heated puff of breath. “Nah, more like the alpha in the Omega section is.” Darting your eyes anywhere but at the strain of Toji’s sinful compression shirt sneaking winking at you underneath his leather jacket, practically painted onto the ridges of his washboard abs. “Thinkin’ of a secondary gender change, Toji?”

“Ah, yeah yeah-” He’s rolling those hooded eyes, leaning in so pointedly close that you can practically feel his slow, seeping look up and down. “-got tired of havin’ cute lil’ omegas falling all over f’me.”

You scramble to finally stand, “You wish.”

The bout of husky snickers that escape from him make your thighs squeeze together, and Toji’s promptly following you to place back all those fallen lotions. “‘Course I do. That n’ the brat is out on a trip with his lil’ pink-haired friend, m’just killing time.” Tilting his head at you, “You? Thinking of going for alpha? Or…” Crossing his big, beefy forearms, and he must know the effect that has on you and your greedily ogling eyes. “-an alph-”

“Just this.” You’re cutting him off before Toji could fray at your sanity even more, holding up that heat-inducing serum your mother had mentioned. 

But, oh.

Oh.

That wasn’t the expression you’d expected on the handsome face of Toji Fushiguro. Maybe something more smug, perhaps even amused as he realized your little predicament- but never this.

Eyes stony, sharp jaw clenching with a jumpy little tick. And Toji’s fingers are so thick when they pluck the box cleanly off your hands, the split-second graze of his burning skin making you feel almost feverish.

“This trash? Yer takin-” He’s glaring down at the serum as if it had offended him personally five times over. Something about the utter look of discontent makes your chest burn, “-this trash?”

You find yourself defensive, “N-no. At least, not yet. What about it-”

“Because s’gonna ruin your inner workings that’s what.” And for all the world, you never expected to be getting lectured by Toji Fushiguro of all people on your health - though, one look at his sculptured body should have told you all you need to know about just how seriously he takes it. “Don’t even know why s’on the market. S’not good for ya, mama.”

And you knew that. Probably. But ah, the things you do when you’re at your ropes end. “And? I’ve never had a single heat my whole life, y’know?”

“And I should know, bratty doll.” Toji murmurs, throwing that oh-so-famed miracle serum haphazardly back onto the shelf and flipping off the manager who glares at him. “Haven’t had a single rut in years, not since Megumi’s- anyways, all these inducers here are full of shit.”

“Oh.”

Wrapping a staggering arm around your waist to guide you, your body practically burns. Weird. “Tch- silly girl.”

Two peas in a pod.

Before you know it, you’re being dragged by a disgruntled Toji away from the treacherous clutches of the Heats and Ruts aisle and past the cashier - who only smiles as you so-very-subtly sneak in a long whiff of the air. 

Again. Nothing. 

With the stinging pang of disappointment, you sigh as you step outside. Only for Toji to rub your back with a hum, “S’alright. You’ll be alright, sugar- you’re my strong girl, huh?” Eyes widening at just how…sweet Toji was being. That is, before he opens his mouth once more- “Besides. Who needs inducers when you’ve got such a big strong alpha-”

“Pass.”

“Don’ act like ya don’t like it, little miss neighbor. I see how ya look at me.”

“I- I don’t-” You did. And you do. And you will - in fact, you were looking at him that way right now as Toji swings over one thick thigh to straddle the padded leather seat of his prized Harley Davidson. Looking like he’d just stepped out from your wettest of dreams and it makes you almost simper out a sigh.

He’s jutting his head back at the tempting extra space behind him, and you could already hear the suggestion oozing into his next words. “Mhm— whatever ya say, girl. Now stop just standing there looking pretty n’ get over here, I’m a busy man.”

It’s almost as if on auto-pilot when you do.

Toji Fushiguro’s motorbike was big, and just as intimidating as he was. And it’s only on shaky legs that you manage to press yourself only mere precarious inches away from his hulking form. “Heh, ‘er name’s Harley. Fitting for a bike, huh?”

“If- if you crash I’ll kill you.” You’re puffing out a few thickly muffled words through the sleek matching black helmet he was deftly putting on you. Wondering just what led you to be…here of all places. 

“Yes ma’am, I’ll help ya hide the body.”

“M’serious- no funny business.”

“Uh huh, anything else, mistress?”

“And I’ve seen you run red lights so no-”

SMACK!

Your heart stutters with a loud ba-dump! as Toji’s rounded, calloused fingertips leave a good smack against the side of your thigh to get your yammering mouth to halt. And he’s letting off a titter at the shocked expression of your face even through the tinted helmet before turning to rest his hands on the handlebars. 

“Hold on tight.”

It’s all the warning you get - and, honestly speaking, you don’t think any sort of warning could’ve prepared you for the way that Toji rides. 

Something about it is so attractive. 

Maybe it was the creaking stretch of leather as his biceps strained against it from underneath, maybe the way your ears ring with his words even louder than the growl of the bike, maybe it was the way that you were holding him.

Arms stretching to connect over Toji’s broad front, your skin mushes against the curvaceous mounds of his toned pecs. Firm and warm. So, so warm that you can’t help the way that your eager self was mindlessly inching ever-so-slightly closer-

“Phew.” Startling - but not moving away - at the low whistle that Toji blows out, eyes still trained weaving through traffic. “Dangerous game yer playin’, omega.”

Sidling even closer, the defined angles of his back muscles only flexed at the innocent smooch of your tits. “What?”

“S’fucking close.” And not just to him, but to his scent glands. So sensitive and prickling the shaggy black hair at the base of Toji’s neck just from your heated proximity. Huh, strange. “S’a damn good thing I ah- don’t get my ruts, huh?”

And, suddenly, you’re despising what these helmets hide from you. “Well, it’s a good thing I don’t get my heats, huh?”

The exact same words playing over and over in your minds once Toji’s braking to a stop at his designated spot right outside your apartment building. And part of you almost feels upset that this little ride with him was over. 

Letting him do as he pleases when he’s seating around gruffly to take off both your helmets himself, you couldn’t help but notice that something about the air seemed…thick. Like it had just been dipped in candy and right now you were gladly suffocating in the sugary sweetness. 

Your eyes catch onto a lock of deep black that’d curled behind Toji’s ear - and you knew right then and there that something was wrong, you knew that you weren’t thinking. That you weren’t listening to your common sense. 

Because before you can stop yourself - before you can even register it - you’re swiping away the stray tuft, sensory curves of your fingertips just catching onto the skin above where Toji’s smooth glands should be.

“Fuh-fuck-” He’s hissing, willowy eyes curtaining behind a scrunch of his lids, and it’s almost as if on instinct that his thick digits fly upwards to trap your hands right there. “Hold on- just a little, mama-” Pressing down even tighter, and the way that Toji’s letting his head tumble back makes your mouth lacquer with a syrupy wave of drool. “-s-so you said you haven’t had a heat in years-”

“Ever.”

“-ever, huh?” Dewy whirlpools of his eyes examine you, and suddenly you feel like running away. But Toji only grins, “Say, why don’tcha scent me?”

Your maw falls slack with a hot shudder, and you’re not sure if it’s in shock or if it’s from how much you wanted it. To have an alpha offering himself on a silver platter - let alone Toji. Letting out an eloquent, “Wh-what?”

You’re being reeled in even closer with a tug of Toji’s strengthened hands, plummeting onto his chest with a cushioned oof–! He only repeats, breathing bated like he didn’t want to know anything himself until you did. “Scent me, pretty girl.”

“I-I don’t know why-” Your fingers unlatch, and you swear it makes Toji’s chest rumble with a low whimper. Steadily planting them onto the collar of his overpriced jacket to pull. “But if this is your idea of a- oh.”

Shit.

Shit.

And something…is different. There. 

Was- was this how he smelled? This heady concoction of jasmine and something so undeniably…Toji? 

Something snaking and boiling bubbles up throughout your body, you all but slump yourself into his eagerly awaiting arms. You can’t even register what you’re doing, nuzzling into his tender throat. Can’t even recognize the look on your face when you’re gasping in greedy heavals of what was obviously his scent.

That you could smell.

With a gasp, you’re pulling away, eyes diverting to him and- oh, it was much the same for him.

There was no other explanation for the lecherous look of devastation on Toji’s pretty features right about now. 

Scarred lips parting in awe, weighty lids drooping down until those heart-eyes him were almost invisible, face veiled with a delicate flush. His palms find their way to rest on the dip of your hips and stay there.

You’re croaking out, “T-Toji-”

It happens so fast - too fast. 

It’s as if your mere voice was enough to send a zillion volts of electricity shattering down Toji’s spine, jolting him with something darkly visceral. Enough to snap up one tannish forearm and bite-

“Ngh-” Toji’s pearly canines coat with a slight tinge of red, eyes shuttering open - and you notice that they seem slightly less glassy now. Slightly. “-fuck ya really are dangerous, doll. Was almost g’na have me take you right here right now.” The slight dip of his strawberry-pink tongue as Toji pulls away makes you gulp, “N’ I don’ wanna spend my first rut in years here.”

.

.

.

Toji couldn’t think - he couldn’t breathe. And if he was any lesser man he’d have fallen to his knees with only one whiff of your candyland smell. 

Addictive. 

Fingers clutched tightly underneath the plush of your thighs to carry you all the way in through your cozy apartment. Never faltering. Never slowing. You could almost roll your eyes at the blatant reminder of strength if you didn’t feel so feverish.

Toji’s steely eyes light up at the way your trembly fingers clutch the silken hem of your skirt, lips wobbling with every spilling word. “T-Tooooji, feels so hot.”

“S’that so?” He’s swiping the regal button of his nose down where the sides of your neck were swollen, breathing in the hot, sugary waves emanating from your skin. “Feel anything else?”

And the slight hitch of your breath is all that he needs as an answer, well, that and the goopy wetness that was formulating between your thighs. Shit, he never thinks he’s kicked down a door off its hinges harder than he has to your poor bedroom door. 

Draping you gently onto the plethora of silken sheets, you whine at the slight recoiling bounce.

Barely even given the time to gather your wits before Toji’s sliding his jacket and his t-shirt teasingly off, all thick, muscled limbs stalking towards you like a predator that’d just cornered his favorite prey. And you eye his rippling back, his rumbling tone speaking over your mattress’ creaks. 

“Ya better know…” he’s hurling out, mouth just only centimeters away from yours. Hot. “-m’not here ta fuckin’ play around jus’ cause you’re in heat, sugar.”

Ah, that’s what it was - heat. You were in heat. Fuck. 

Your fingers leave neatly indented semi-circles on his flesh when Toji’s grasping your throat tightly, padded ends of his fingers pressurizing right onto the treasure trove of your scent glands. “If I fuck you now, you will be mine. You and…” Before one largely crowned kneecap of his sidles into the snug cove of your pussymound. Weighing down- “...her.”

It’s the only thing you could do to bat your lashes up at him in a way that makes Toji’s achy cockhead twitch. “I want you…wan’ you to touch me, Toji–”

And that’s all that he ever wanted. 

Roughened hands shove you meanly back onto the cushy bed, and Toji’s sliding his palms languidly down, down, down every curve and dip on your body. As if he was trying to worship you with them. 

“Oh? Only wan’ me to touch ya?” Toji’s humming, Adam’s apple bobbing with wads of salivation once his fingers slink down to curl at your bra strap and snap! “Not to take this off or-” You gasp, the sting almost making you forget those minute rips! echoing from where he was grasping your t-shirt. “-this? Guess I can do whatever I please then, right?”

Before you can say a word of shrill protest, those useless pieces of fabric are tattered off. Ending up not-so-nicely in a pile right beside your bed with Toji’s intact clothes. 

“H-hey!” You whine, “Those were ah- limited edition-”

“Ah, I’ll buy ya five more of those.” Toji rolls his eyes when your lips part open, “What? Thought I wasn’t filthy rich or somethin’- Oh, girl, you are about to be spoiled. But first, a kiss-” Innocent and sweet onto your lips, “-here. And…”

Toji huffs out a few cocky sniggers at his own little joke, because of course he does. Leaving you off with a gentle swat! to the perfect curve of your hip and your heartbeat throbbing at your drooling cunt. 

He’s shuffling onto his very knees at the bottom of the bed, tutting at how unfairly far you were from his greedy mouth - well, that had to be fixed. You almost get whiplash from how swiftly you’re being dragged to let your jittery legs be thrown right near his tightly coiled deltoids. “-here.”

Head bobbing in an urgent yes yes yes when Toji rids you of your flimsy skirt and slowly slides down your drenched panties. All bunched up and leaving a glimmering coating of slick down your skin.

Stuffing it into his pants pocket, “This is a lil’ reward f’me.”

“Filthy.”

“Oh, well helloooo there, pretty girl.” He’s drawling, eyes flashing with such darkness at the heavenly mess of a banquet all laid out in front of him. “You’re so in heat- so fuckin’ in heat. See? Who needs fuckin’ inducers when ya have me.”

Toji’s pupils were swallowing up his verdant orbs. Needy. And he’s unashamed in taking a long deep inhale of your saturated pheromones. His favorite perfume now. “Lookin’ real happy ta see me. Happy s’your hah- first heat, hm?”

You’re squirming, fingers tangling into his silken tresses in an attempt to try and shove his face closer. “Are- are you talking to-”

“Hush now, doll.” Toji leaves a wet pap! of his fingers thwacking against the treacly slit of your pussy, watery with your flooding slick and greedy. “Lemme talk to ‘er- lemme talk this cute cunt through her first heat. M’honored, y’know?”

And honored just doesn’t begin to cover it.

Toji was devoted.

It’s like your wafting clouds of heady scent made his mind dizzy, until the only thing he could do was to let his slutty tongue loll out and sliiide at the splatters of translucent sap soiling your inner thighs.

“Oh- fuck-” You’re squirming your hips in a wild buck upwards, only to have him pin you down with the heavy-handed weight of his forearm. “-feels so- so…”

“Yeah? Good? Ya always get this wet or s’that jus’ f’me?”

Truly, you could only jumble out a few nonsensical syllables. Because Toji didn’t want to waste a single ounce of your precious juices, slurring out a few open-mouthed kisses across every inch of skin you’d exposed to him. And the moment that rosy peak of his tongue touches upon your teary pussy- oh.

He thinks he might just be the one about to cry.

Because you didn’t just smell like his favorite candied lollipops - you tasted like it, too. And, fuck, he can’t help but go in for seconds. Thirds.  

Guffawing out breathily with disbelief, he’s drawling his tongue to mush open the gummy folds of your pussy. Swirling out a lazy flick of his sopping muscle to stretch out the tight ring of your wide agape-

“Just look at ‘er all hngh- overflowing.” You watch with bated breath when Toji’s prying your quivering entrance with a bullying few inches of a singular thick index - only one, but Toji was so incredibly towering with his size and strength that you find yourself keening. Coral pink lips puckering up to give your hooded clit a squelching kiss. “Heh…like a damn waterpark, aren’t ya?”

Filthy words only making you filthier. Making your omega inside blink up and yearn.

Your gushing wads of juices bawling from between your legs in torrent. And you yelp at the lecherous sounds that echo out - the waterlogged squelches and slurring that only makes Toji grin. Wild and sly. “Mhm, real talkative.”

Arching your back into the perfect slutty curvature off of the prespired sheets, “Tojiii- s-stop teasing n’ give me- ngh- more.”

More. 

And just then you feel him fuck his softened digits into you slow and thorough. Curling up to swipe down the mushy soft spots of your walls - Toji was burning up. But you were burning up even more, and shit.

Shit. shit shit shit-

You don’t know if it’s because of your heat, or if it’s because Toji is just that good with that rude mouth of his - but you’re cumming faster than the thought could even flash across your melty mind. “Wait- m’close ngh- Toji- I’m gonna-”

It’s like a tidal wave of bliss peaked up further and further with every slashing motion of Toji’s gyrating make out with your cunt. You’re so very extra sensitive right now and he makes use of it - bumping up that rounded angle of his nose to press your fleshy clit just right. 

It’s so intoxicating. So heady that he finds himself pushing back those sweat-dampened bangs of his to lower down loooong breath. And then finally another passionate French kiss onto your bulging pussy. 

“Fuck- I-” Pearlescent droplets of tears welling up at the scrunched corners of your eyes. “M’so- sensitive–”

God, his wolfish canines were sharp nipping teasingly into the fat pucker of your pussy lips. Parting your slick-gleaming mound to squeeze his tongue into your tight hole, the stretch is incredible. It’s staggering. And Toji can only sully your insides with a gentle brush of his lengthy tongue along your gooey insides before pulling back with a huff. 

And then again- to let out a throat groan when your elastic walls push with resistance. And again. And again and again-

“Now m’offended.” Toji’s letting out a surly swat! where you’re trickling down viscous fluids of sickly sweet slick that coat his mountainous knuckles, his wrist, the raised trailways of his veins. “Wanted more but tha’s all ya can take- tch.” 

Oh, by the time your white-hot tingles of pleasure were bating you should’ve known better than to think that Toji Fushiguro was done manhandling you with his superhuman strength to every whim and want of his. 

That he would give you even a second of a warning before hovering over your frame and flipping you into such a pliable position over him.

His back hitting the puff of the pillows, strands of hair making a dark halo underneath him. Toji looks so fucking handsome that you can feel your pussymound slobber a few streaky puddles of slick onto his heaving abs. 

Hands positioned on either side of his leering head, you mewl. “Give me a warning first, you animal-”

“Hell yeah.” He’s snarking up at you, but there’s not a single speck of heat behind his words other than towards you. Towards what he wanted to do to you. Planting a heavy smack! on your ass, “Tha’s right you’ve got me in a rut after years like a fuckin’- animal. Heh, so jus’ lemme throw my pretty omega ‘round a lil’, I can feel how wet that gets ya.”

“N-noo- it doesn’t-” But that was a fucking lie and both of you knew it, knew it from the syrupy pool of sap laminating his heated skin. 

“See? She’s on my side. Doesn’t talk back.” The curvaceous pads of his fingers twiddle and tease your plumpened clit, so dirtily that it only makes your dripping cunt drool even further. Leaving a gauzy cobweb of treacly slick with every swat! swat! swat! he gifts. “Has anyone ever had her seated on a mouth, sugar? Made you feel good that way?”

Your head shakes before the thought has even contorted itself into an understandable shape. “No- no one has- ngh- before.”

It’s a confession, it’s a line plucked right from Toji’s filthiest thoughts on those late, late nights.

And he couldn’t look happier when molding you to the exact shape and angle that he wants you in. Turning you right around to bare your sodden pussy from the back, your unbalanced thighs curling on either side of his ravenous head. 

Not even a single command, yet your head is swimming with honey at just how much you were like putty underneath his hands. 

Your head cranes over the plane of your shoulder to give him a pretty plea. “Toji?”

“Mhmmm, Toji’s right here, pretty girl.” He’s awestruck - stunned with the gumdropping droplets of sap plopping down onto his tongue and sliding right down his throat. Making him groan, “Filthy fuckin’ pussy, can feel ya ngh- dripping allll down my tongue.”

And he’s drunk. He’s babbling, he’s heaving and heaving to inch his intoxicated maw to connect with your saturatedly glossy pussy lips. “Lower her down so I can give her lil’ smooch.”

Your hands nimble down along the tufted black happy trail brushing from between his navel and going down, down, down. “L-like this?”

“Nah, more. Can’t believe all those pathetic boys never had ya hah- sitting on their faces. Spread those pretty legs n’ lemme show you-” You can’t even begin to think about merely hovering your entire deadweight above him, because Toji was ready. And he was hauling you to rest every single mass of your flesh onto him, “-how a real man fucks.”

Thickly viscous helpings of your generous slick flood his mouth the second that Toji’s lengthy tongue is burrowing between your folds and driving you mad. 

Sliding all the way up and down up and down up and down with a welcoming flit at your buttoned clit and then pumping you overwhelmingly full. Fucking you with the overheated scratch of his tastebuds exactly the way that he wanted to with his achy cock right now.

“Can still taste m’self on ya- haaah- good.”

Toji wasn’t holding back.

“O-oh my god, m’so sensitive.” Your moans come out mangled. Wanton. Spilling from between your parted lips right along with rivulets upon rivulets of waterfalling saliva every single time that Toji’s bumping the curvaceous search of his tongue into your earliest sweet spots. “Slow down, Toji–”

Your fists maze through the velveteen blankets and clench, hips jerking up-

“Nuh uh, doll, no runnin’ away from your Toji.” Sliding up one slick-glazed hand to snake the small of your back, he’s using his face to nudge your legs even further. Drowning your sobbing cunt with a fat wad of spittle, Toji’s licking down the stray speckles that gravitate back onto his own mouth. So dirty that it makes him delirious, nose crinkling, bottom lip bitten. “Yeahhh, crack ‘em open even wider. She’s eager.”

Eager you were.

Jostling your hips against his mouth until through your clouded mind you were wondering whether he would suffocate. But little did you know that this might just be Toji’s ideal death - buried right there between your pretty legs. 

You’re being bounced so hard that you can feel your legs aching with the strain, hollowing out shuddered breaths and whines of Toji, Toji—

“Say my name.” He’s huffing, easing in a thick few inches of his fat digits that fill up the snug geysering orifices. Each n’ every single volume of space that’s inside you, and those puckered pecks leave screeching squelches that have you halfway through sobbing. “Say my name- say my name heh, g-gonna have a looot of ngh- noise complaints after this.”

Even though he’s saying this, he doesn’t do anything to deter you. Why the hell would he?

Pumping you full of one finger, two, three until your gummy ring of muscle was being molded to the plump circumference of his lengths. Multi-tasking. 

All the way until he was slathering the patterned bumps of his knuckles with a sticky second skin of slick, Toji curls those rounded tips down the tenderized walls of your channel and drags. Feeling for that one special target of his-

“G’na make ya feel s-so good.” He’s whispering, breathing like it was the truest of true words. And shit- he hasn’t felt like this for ages now - years. Secondary gender growling from his inner depths with guttural need to give you more more more. “Gonna find- ah- found it.”

And Toji knows he found it with the way you squeal. Wafting scent intensifying, lashes fluttering with a clinging swash of tears once he jerks a good push into that bulging bullseye that makes you see stars.

“Right there- Toji– right there-”

“S’fucking loud.” He’s rolling his eyes for what seems like the nth time today, but it was impossible not to when you were just so cute being teased like this. Bubbling out a few sloshes of slick and spit when your fingers dip right underneath his trousers and push. “O-oh? Trynna keep yer mouth full, huh? Let’s see ya try then.”

Your low lip juts out into a pathetic sort of pout that Toji finds adorable, that only makes his clothed cock pool out a darkening patch of precum onto his boxers. 

“Wan’ taste you- make you feel good.” Your words are warbly and broken, tone hitching upwards with every tiny slip of his sticky underwear downwards. It’s like you were teasing him - teasing yourself. And your inner omega was oh-so-very impatient. “Wanna make you feel…oh.”

“Heh, cat really got yer tongue now, huh?”

And you couldn’t even retort, you couldn’t even snap back as you usually might have because you were stunned. 

Maw falling slack at the generous girth that was throbbing fatly between your fingers, honestly from this lecherous angle it seemed like a struggle to even close your fist around him. Because Toji was…big - and even saying that was an understatement. 

Just about nine throbbing inches with hefty breeder balls that your bleary gaze could make out, flushed a candied pink on the rounded curve of his mushroom tip. Graduating down, down, down into a pale baby rose - you didn’t know whether it was the heat talking but right now he just looked like your favorite sort of lolly.

“L-look so pretty, Toji.” You babble away, words getting breathier and breathier as sloppy as his kisses get. Your puckered lips are almost stinging with just how thorough he was. “Wanna taste…”

Oh, and you didn’t realize that one perk of having your secondary gender presented was realizing the shift in his pheromones. 

You didn’t know how you knew but there was a tinge of utter adoration in Toji’s jasmine-infused scent as you plop down a wet mass of slippery saliva right onto his strawberry divot. Lathering the split, plummy globe before planting your mouth down and kissing.

Your mushy tastebuds looping little motions over the creamy butter-topped cap of his splurging cock, he tastes so heady. Rich pre melting on your tongue and it was so musky, so…him. 

“Oh, girl-” he’s breathing out through a rasping sigh. Darkened brows marrying together at just how warm your mouth was sheathing around his painfully hard shaft, “That’s it- thaaaat’s it. Suck on my cock like a good girl, mama—”

“Ngh-” Your jaw aches, throat jumping at the squeezing sensation of his lustrously crowned tip tunneling right down. Craning your head so that he could count every bounce, “S-sho bwigh.”

You were so heavenly, alternating to leave shy little snogs over and under his sensitive slit - and Toji was one competitive man. It was in his nature, of course. 

Tumbling your hips to rest even greater onto his mouth, he didn’t need to breathe. Didn’t even want to even dream of it when he had the circles of his fingerpads latched on your jiggling ass so hard it was sure to leave battered bruises for the next week and weeks and weeks.

“Damn, she’s good, huh?” Toji’s whispering at the sopping wet purse of your lips, “But I can’t have myself  c-cum before- fuuuck- my girl.” 

Your eyes were sprinting all the way to the back of your heavy lids with ever swaying lash of his mean mouth. And it didn’t matter just how vulgarly you were sliding your starved tongue down the heated ridges and veins of his swollen cock - Toji was doing ten times worse. 

Every deepening inch you swallowed up into your cavernous mouth only made him plug you fuller. Every stray swipe of the thick, ivory beads of his pre made Toji douse out lumping masses of saliva lewdly. And every twitch that made you sure Toji was right on course to tumbling over the edge was urging him to push you headfirst into your orgasm with a final teasing pinch at your clit. 

And your mouth opens with an accusing gasp - did he just…pinch your clit? But all thoughts of his audacity and the fact that Toji was chuckling out right after washed away as soon as your high was flooding you.

Moans being muffled around his generously fat shaft, the only thing that you get is just a single wispy wire of condensed cum being lacquered onto your tongue. Just one. Right before Toji’s free hand splays out onto your scalp and pulls you free with a wet pwah!

“Tha’s it-” You hear him mutter in the blinding cloud of your orgasm, it felt so blissful that some darkly primal part of you said that you were never letting him go after this. He was yours. Your mate. “-louder. Louder– good fuckin’ girl cummin’ all over my mouth.”

Toji didn’t know how the hell was multitasking with your pussy kindly spraying him with a sheeny covering of all your remnant juices. But for you? Anything.

Anything anything anything and he was whispering the very same mantra into the quavering, slick-flooded entrance of yours. Letting your hips drag sloppy grinds to ride out every edge of your peak - to use him in a way that no other alpha might just.

Toji’s strokes up into your tightly-clasped fist were deep, and he doesn’t stop even when your eyesight stops tinging with black. Not even when your back arches with oversensitivity, waterfalls of tears producing from your ducts. Sobbing, “I-I’m- ngh- Toooji- I can’t anymore-”

“Sure, ya can–” Looking you right into your thoroughly half-lidded eyes as he nods along with the slurring symphony that he was orchestrating from between your overworked legs. “-she says ya- ngh- can.”

Toji wanted to taste you again. Needed it.

“But-” And, yet, he finds his ear perking up at the wobbly sound of your voice, blushing bludgeoning tip creaming out another thick mess of white. “-but I wan’ my next- ah- next orgasm around your cock, Toji–” 

And, well, how could he say no to that?

Toji thinks he could never say no to anything you ask ever again with the way you were positioned precariously on top of him and still begging. 

He’s saying goodbye to your pretty pussy with a slow peck as a lover would. Breathing in heavily - oh, how he loved the smell of you. “M’gonna see ya later, m’kay? Don’t miss me too much.” 

And another gifted spank! to your tenderized ass makes you jerk a few inches off of his sugary mouth. Sweet, sweet praises being pecked up the bending arch of your spine when he sits you down all cutely on his lap.

You’re heaving out a huff, scent glands throbbing with a spike of something slightly salty. Jealousy. “M’startin’ ta think you’re playing ngh- favorites.”

“Well, duh.” He’s fluttering his long, bestowed lashes with an eyeroll, barely even flinching before cupping your slobbering pussy with one large palm. Teasing, “I’ve got yeeears ta make up for.”

Years of desperation and need pouring and pouring out when Toji folds you easily onto all fours.

And that’s when you’re getting a thorough striking of exactly three times that Toji’s sappy crownhead jolts upwards with a few gummy kisses hello up and down the crying middle of your pussy lips. Smooching. Gently. Before he’s snuggling right beside your hole-

With you bent over and arched right how he wanted you - oh, he was so enjoying the view. Saturated bursts of cloudy pheromones hitting your feverish body and only making the fountains of translucent slick increase tenfold. 

Shit, you were so wet that Toji has to force himself to let one greedy hand go from its favorite job trapping you underneath him. 

Guiding a few dexterous digits to wrap around the bulkily bloated cylinder of his base, he takes his time slipping and sliding.

“Might wanna hold yer breath, mama, h-heh…” You’re squirming your hips deeper into those pronounced hip bones of his despite the fact that simply breathing won’t help you take on his monstrous size. But you wanted to. You needed to. “Gotta c-count- ngh- eeeevery inch like a good girl now, m’kay?”

And that’s exactly what he made you do. 

“Oh!” Saltily flavored globules of your tears had your lips wetted, blubbering unconsciously when Toji anchors the hills of his palm onto the ends of your spine and pushes. “Shit- Toooji, why the hell are you s-so big-”

“Now that doesn’t sound like a ngh- ‘one’ ta me…”  But of course, who was Toji if it wasn’t for a little bit of teasing. Just enough to get your lips pouting cutely and your gluey walls clinging around him as if afraid he would pull away. Adorable. “Now now, c’mon- don’t tell me the biiig stretch has made ya forget how to ah- count, mama.”

So easy to rile up, to get you shaking your head so fervently that you swear you could feel your melty mind tumbling about like a bobble head. “N-no. I can count.”

“Then, say it w’me-” And oh, you knew that tone. That feral tone of his that would never ever bode well for you or your needily dripping pussy. Toji’s inching his hips back mere sinful inches, drawling out all the while. “-oooone.”

He doesn’t even ease you in.

Hitting your spraying cunt with the full force of his mushroom-topped head pushing past the adhesive-like resistance of your flooding entrance. Pushing and pushing and pushing- “One.”

Toji’s hands are clammy - depraved - when they pry your bouncing ass ever-so-slightly to really take in the sight of your gobbling pussy. Because he had no shame. He had no fucking shyness letting out a proud puff of pheromones that make your boneless knees weak.

“There there.” He’s patting that curve of your hip he loved so much - birthing hips, the thought strikes him. Shocked at just how much deeper that drowns him into his heady rut. “My good omega. Now…two.”

“T-two-” You’re sobbing out.

“Hmmm, nah- no stutterin’.”

Oh?

And, honestly, Toji half-expected your omega in heat to snarl at him a little, to let your hugging channel scoop up a hefty few dollops of milky pre right before he’s reeling the familiar pathway forwards again.

But, oh shit, he didn’t expect for you to bare your teeth like a fucking threat. For one hand of yours to dart behind with surprising accuracy and curl around his shaggy haircut, dragging Toji to pump you full. And it wasn’t just one inch. Not two. Not even three - you were damn near yearningly jackhammered with about halfway down his fuming red shaft before he finally got his cottony brain together. “Two.” 

“Damn, greedy girl–” Toji praises, though it comes out as more of a rasping growl that sends voltaged shivers down your spine. “Comin’ back for more, already? Knew my dick was hah- heat- alright then-” And the bed rings out with a few symphonied creaks when he shuffles his muscular thighs wider. Steadier. “-but ya better still fuckin’ count.”

Four. five. Six.

More and more - seven and eight. 

Up until Toji’s puffy head smudges a wet wipe at the canvas of your cervix. You were so soft there that he obviously has to greet the melty depths of your pussy with a good spurting of ribbony pre, swabbing around those drenched springs with a lazy circle of his hips.

“Eight.” Your jaw spills a surging slew of profanities at the feeling of him spearheading you so open, face pushing into the soft mattress when you perk your hips up and push. Only to gasp at there being- more? “Wait- I want-”

“Down, girl.” Toji’s sweat-shimmered biceps flex when he shoves your too-eager body back. “Gotta get you to at least cum on m’cock again before I give ya my- fuuuuck- knot.” 

And Toji fucks you like he’d going to make you remember.

He knows he’s going to make you remember - it’s why he has that big, dopey smirk smearing wider and wider across his face with every fat thud! into the rubbery bounds of your pussy. You’re taking him like you’re made for it, and that only makes his heart stutter even louder than your protesting wooden bedframe.

“Doll, m’gonna ahh- break this damn bed.” He’s uttering out, never ever sounding prouder of himself than right now. “And you.”

“Cocky.”

“Whatever, girl- talk t’me when ya haven’t gotten- hah-” Managing out through blissful hiccups of his breath, “-heart-eyes after bein’ hngh- fucked dumb by me, ‘kay?”

You’re not sure if you’ve heard that correctly - but luckily for you, Toji Fushiguro is allll about keeping his girl in the loop.

All about prancing his rough hands to entrap your wrists and pull you with barely even a wisp of his true strength. Beaded dewdrops of sweat perspiring up and down the heavily toned muscles of his back like their very own personal rollercoaster.

With you right along for the ride with the way that his rightly angled rotund tip romantically scours and scours for your magical g-spot. Jerking you up in midair to snap his slender hips with a particularly vicious pap!

The sensation of skin-on-skin makes your head dizzy, and your core overpour with another sudden downpour of treacling juices. But what was even blasphemously worse was the way that precious geyser embedded into the treasure trove of your walls were pummelled. 

Over and over.

“There- right there–” you’re sounding out as if you were a broken record. Every resonating moan of yours accompanied hand-in-hand with the loudest splish-splosh of sputtering juices. Secondary gender working overtime now to make Toji cum. To make him give you his knot- “-wan’ you to c-cum right there.”

“Where?” Toji’s deepening his angle to bump a heavy-handed slam pounded into your cervix. “Here?” At your vehement shakes - honestly, he wondered if you even knew he was taunting you at this point. “Then…” Only to give your peaked clit a mushy squeeze, “-here?”

You’re almost crying at this point, bursts of heat fluctuating between your goopy depths and your swollen scent glands. Full and ready. And it’s a sight so pretty that Toji can feel his stomach twisting already. “N-noooo.”

He almost loses it once your shakier, smaller hands take the lead to guide one of his own all across your thighs where he loved. Your cunt, where he loved just a bit more. And to about halfway along your pretty tummy to press- “Wan’ you to f-fill me up riiight here.”

And Toji only growls, “Riiight there, huh?”

Pinpointing his puffed-up divot to smudgeon repeated heavy collisions into the latched wall of your womb. Once. Twice. Before thrashing your permeated walls with hosing flushes of his cum. Of such thick ribbony wads - and it’s so fucking dense that you feel your hips weigh down.

Or perhaps that was because of your own orgasm the- third of the night?

Just about all you can manage out, syllables falling from your lips slower than you’re being hammered through the faintish spurts of your high. “C-umming–”

Before you know it, you have one of his muscular forearms around your throat in headlock, bulging Toji’s rounded biceps hard and possessively at the bumpy area of your glands.

“Cummin’ again?” Toji snarls against your ear, nails clawing at your hip to keep them under his control. “Yeah- yeahhh tha’s right. Milk your dear Toji, t-take this fucking cock. Take my…”

And Toji was about to overstuff your awaiting hole with the fat circular ring that’d swollen around his base, to finally give you his knot the way he’d been dreaming of ever since you waved at him on the day he moved into this fucking building. 

But just one sneaking glance at the ivory lipstain your puffy pussy was wearing, the way the ends of your sopping slit drown with a swamping drip drip drip of his lustrous cum makes Toji go a little…crazy. 

Makes the bulgingly tender crook of your neck look so, so tempting. 

His glassed-over eyes lock downwards, breath hitching at the way he slowly sinks back out and in has your pussymound mewling out such a cute glomp! His second-favorite girl - after you, of course - was speaking back to him. Lathers of splashing cum painting his bulky heft with a ring of frosted seed. 

Oh.

Toji would never get tired of this. How the fuck hadn’t he had a rut in years again?

And he says only one word, “More.”

“M-more?” Your fingers experimentally nudge at the tautly coiled pressure at your stomach and find yourself slobbering - from both drizzling lips. Even with the dredges of pouring cum, you were still so full you felt that you could burst. “Can it even fit?”

Right now he thinks the hazy fog covering his brain would never stop - and he doesn’t want it to. Waves of pheromones wafting off of him in such high concentrations that you find your mouth flooding with saliva all over again.

Cobwebs of it overspilling down onto the veined muscles of his forearm - only increasing in saturation when he tilts your head up in the perfect 90 degree curvature to face his boring gaze. And his mean mouth.

Spitting right onto the tainted bullseye of your tongue, streamy rivers flowing back into your mouth when he firmly nudges it shut. “If yer droolin’ n’ can still t-take ngh– that,” Branding the thorough push of his circled circumference into your cervix like he was branding the swollen indentation there permanently. “-then ya can take allll of haaah- this, okay, mama?”

Shit, was Toji glad that both your concoctions of pheromones kept him still hard. And he’d heard of ruts that lasted a week - two, uncommonly. The longest ever recorded was twenty days and by god was he going to gain the title of world champion.

Even if it meant he had to lift you cleanly off of the now-broken bed, the exact same one that you were only now noticing. Just barely so. 

You’re gasping, fingers digging into Toji’s smooth skin when two arms wrap around your middle and jostle you over a few coiling bedsprings that’d started to stick out from one sagging end of the mattress. Being pushed to bend over in such a complaint position at the end of your cool mahogany desk. 

You’re dipped deep, but his battering rams were impossibly deeper.

And the zig-zagging probe of his veins were massaging you just right, thrusts determined and practiced now that Toji had every scouring inch of your pretty pussy drilled into his mind.

“Th-three’s the ah-” Toji’s chest rumbles with a sensitized shiver once he hikes up a strong leg, caging you with him and his ruthless cock and him. Letting you gape at the documents rustling and flying about, “-charm. Or was it four? Ngh- f-five? Six?”

Just how long did he intend to mess up your insides? 

Though, you really, really aren’t complaining at the way that every merciless dab of Toji’s sharp hips into your fleshy mounds fuck you stupid. Entire body burning up - all the way from his lolling, sweat-stucken head in the crook of your neck, to the splurging torrents of streamy sap coating you.

And then there was that stinging plap! of his tightened knot behind you-

“C-can I have your knot now, Toji—?” 

Shit, his hips stutter their sloppy staccato, did you even know what you were asking for?

You never knew that heats came with such a side of begging, but right now you couldn’t really bring yourself to care. Or to complain. Because Toji liked it, earning your pillowy walls with extra thorough hits. 

“Impatient girl.” He’s raising a hand to give two messy spanks on your bulging pussymound, deep snickers hitting your ear in condensed pants at the way it only makes you filthier. “Real diiiirty, too. mmm, wonder if she’d ngh- m-make an even bigger ngh- mess if I…”

And at this point, you were hanging onto every word falling from his kiss-bitten lips. A side-effect of just how good he was fucking you into the digging edges of your clattering desk right now. “What- ngh- what? P-please-”

“Ohhh, know yer m-manners, huh?” Full body wracking at the oodles of slicked sheens frothing down the plump curve of his globed balls and making them clench. Dangerously so. “S-since ya asked so fuckin’ nicely, I’ll let you ngh- know, sugar.” 

Nothing could have prepared you for the way that Toji moistens his parched mouth with a few sultry licks of his lips as if preparing to share his deepest, darkest secret.

Nothing could have prepared you for the notched up burst of his jasmine perfume that makes your legs resemble weak jelly, and Toji’s support yours until they were hovering almost midair. 

Because he was craning his head down to nip at your scent glands, with a sudden snicker. Crazed. A few octaves higher. Like he doesn’t even realize it’s tumbling out before sighing, “-wonder if she’d make an even bigger mess once I get ya…pregnant, mama.”

And oh you think you’re cumming - hot spurts of bliss tackling you by surprise. Fuck, and if you thought that the last orgasm had taken a lot out of your Toji then you’re sluttily glad to find out that that was not the case.

The complete opposite, in fact.

You’re sure that Toji cums even more this time, sunken divot into the elastic material of your walls welling up with the creamy helpings of his bloated cock. So much seed spilling out of him that you wondered whether this was the rut or just him.

Just his urge to fuck you full until you were pathetically overspiling, until had had you in a hold so tight that you think you could almost feel Toji’s delicious crownhead fuck his cum into you until it reached your lungs. 

For what feels like rounds upon rounds until your saliva had amassed in a forevermore pool underneath you. You didn’t know what time it was. How long it had been- 

Only feeling the firm glissade of Toji’s washboard abs against your back. The way his thighs shivered and jerked at every one of your gripping clenches. And despite being so fucked, you were already drooling at the heavenly cushy push and pull of his Adonis-like pecs heaving in throaty gasps. 

So unfairly sexy that it made your primal instincts preen. Mate.

And, apparently, Toji was thinking much the same. 

“F-fuuuck-” He’s letting his mouth nuzzle the side of your throat with all the tenderness that he wasn’t bestowing upon your sappy cunt. “Think about i-it- you all ngh- round and glowing n’- rooound–“ Rambling and rambling at the wet splashes inside you of his stuffing, “You’d make the prettiest momma.”

As if to prove his point, a gentle hand greets the inflationary outline that was slowly forming its way at your tummy. Made by yours truly - Toji. 

“I…” And he looks at you like you’ve hung the stars. And his sanity right along with it somewhere up there. “-want that. Oh, I- hngh! want that-”

Words barely out of your mouth before Toji’s hand slams down - he had to keep himself together. He needed to. But that grating desk clearly wasn’t the place, because you flinch when one straining leg snaps!

And Toji’s alpha instincts are flaring up in an instant, wrestling you to the ground right - pulling out for only a nanosecond to flip you onto your prespired back, pretty legs strewn sloppily over his shoulder, even prettier face gazing up at him - beside the wreckage. One that you’d only find it in yourself to worry about much, much later. 

Definitely not when he’s patting the curve of your pussy with a softened thwack! Murmuring, “Then..g-gonna hafta- hngh- take it.”

And if you didn’t know any better, then you’d have sworn that the smug Toji Fushiguro’s voice cracked as soon as he was settling for drawing a languid heart pattern around the velvety perimeter of your entrance. Before thumbing his way inside-

“Hck!” Your lip wobbles with oversensitivity, nails clawing red, red lines of raw need across the faintly bubblegum pink flush of his body. “S-Soooo much–”

And, yet, you couldn’t get enough. 

You watch with a bitten lip with a fat goblet of sweat drips from Toji’s angular jaw and slithers between his pecs to disappear down below. More - you wanted to fucking ruin him.

The desperation of your heat plummeting in heady wavelengths all around you and making the room smell like a candy heaven.

One that you were very much lost in with the unforgiving stretch of Toji pawing his way to working your sprinkling cunt doubly open. Fingers pumping in quick, methodical half-fucks in the same way that his persistant hips were doing.

Every single recoil against your fleshy cervix causes you both to keen at the wet slosh of his mounds of seed piling up inside you from all the endless rounds before. 

Again. And again. And again and again until it feels like countless hours upon hours. 

“Ohhhh- w-ait-” Toji stammers out, attractively sharp jaw falling and wrenching shut a few repeated times. And then his hips slow down. “Think s’gonna- ngh- ohhhh yeah, gotta take this kn-knot okay? Like my goood girl, okay?”

You’re filled with countless inches of a staggering girth that you didn’t even know was possible. Because while alphas were big…Toji was extra big. 

Extra rounded in his sizable knot, rested upon thickly globular balls that still held such voluminous amounts of cum. Pounding open your eager cunt further and- further-

“I-is it in?” You’re shrilling out, syllables slurring and stumbling together with the incredible stretch being made evident from down below. Fuck, your nails create more painted patterns. You didn’t even want to look - you couldn’t afford to cum again just from the sight. 

“J-just ngh- one more inch. Scratch me, ruin me- anythin’. But m’gonna make it f-fit.”

And Toji only hooks in another one of his thumbs, this time swiping the fat pad of a few stray fingers down your buxom clit. “Count w’me, doll-” For his sanity more than anything. Neck straining with a few popping vessels of blood that swell, face reddening with such a maidenly fucking blush as he looks downwards. “-ooone more-”

“-inch.” You finish off, not expecting that exact moment to be when Toji snaps. His patience. You, full of that achingly hot knot that’d been just begging for you to take him the very moment you waltzed up to him with that sweetened saccharine scent. 

His favorite now.

Gulping in cavernous quotas of it the moment Toji’s inflated knot pops and he sinks his sharpened canines into your scent glands with a whimper-

Hard enough to taste your honey-glazed pheromones, to draw blood. To be permanent - just as he’d needed it. 

Hard enough to make him cum all over again at the feeling of your own teeth making their pretty mark on him. Shit, he didn’t even know if it was fucking possible for his overworked cock anymore. But he sure wasn’t fucking complaining at the delicate splat splat splat of milky cum hitting the back of your pussy. 

Already filled to the brim and spilling with every loving grind that Toji was boring down upon you. The only thing that he could manage when you two were connected so…tightly this way.

“Cute.” Toji manages to run his fingers over the proprietorial set of indentations set in his flesh, eyes still laminated dewily with an euphoric sort of stunned awe. “F-fated mates really have some good ngh- bed chem, huh?”

Fated mates. You could only smile and scent that overwhelmingly addictive jasmine scent of his. Taking in a long, deep breath as he held you. Tight. 

Yeah, jasmine. 

But jasmine was Toji Fushiguro’s.

And you’d be damned if Toji Fushiguro ever let you off that easily.

The smile you’re given is feral, predatory teeth glimmering in the dim lighting and making the neat circle of marks at your neck throb. And something about that told you this was far, far from over. 

You could only hope that your floor didn’t suffer the same fate as your bed, and your desk…and your fluttering cunt.  

After all, you both did have years to make up for. 

“Now the only haaah- way to really test our bed chem is to see whether we can make Megs a big brother.”

A/N. Thinking about making an omegaverse installment for every JJK man- what do you think babygirls?

Plagiarism not authorized. 

[strikersin]

If my Actual Real Life Father saw this blog I wouldn't even be able to die. I would just live. LOL. At that point I guess we have different things to worry about .

But I can see his confused and perplexuated reaction . Haha. It's actually cute