#Am I… am I the crazy one? Is this a common reading? I’m a little afraid to know

[nowis-scales]

I don’t think I’m ever going to recover from the time I was reading someone else’s analysis of Ryoma and Hinoka’s sibling relationship, and they were hitting a lot of the points I would also make, and I was gearing up for them to say exactly what I say — “Takumi and Sakura get left out with them because they grew up teaching themselves to be almost exclusively dependent on each other for emotional support, that’s why they’re close” and then the person writing the analysis is like:

“And that’s why I think Ryoma is secretly in love with Hinoka, and she might even romantically love him back!”

[pierregazly]

tying you to me ꨄ max verstappen

max verstappen x reader

warnings: sweet max, random coincidences to lovers trope, happy ending [wc: 4.3k]

[4 times] in which something coincidentally led back to max, and the [1 time] it turned out nothing was just a coincidence (in which everything has always tied max to you).

Time, curious time  Gave me no compasses, gave me no signs  Were there clues I didn't see? 

It felt like a never-ending nightmare. 

One thing after another, one bad day after another, one bad week after the next. It felt like it was never going to end. 

The person that was supposed to be that person, the man that was supposed to be forever, the person that was going to be standing at the end of the aisle... leaving with a simple apology and a ‘I’m sorry, it’s me, not you’... it was incomprehensible.  

It had been weeks, and you still couldn’t wrap your head around what had gone wrong. Was he telling the truth? Was it really him? Or was it you? Had you done something wrong? Had it been you that caused the blunder? The inevitable demise?  

Everyone had been adamant that it wasn’t you, it was so evident it wasn’t meant to be. Nothing connected to him, there were no signs pointing to him being the one, there was no inevitable connection. But even with those words of affirmation, it didn’t change the internal feelings, the internal heartbreak that felt like it was never going to end. 

All you ever wanted was that connection, that string, that feeling, that pulled you to another person, that proved they were the person meant to be for you. It was devastating to think back and know that it was so obvious, he just wasn’t that person. 

The coffee shop you currently sat in had become a morning staple after the last few weeks. After coming back to Monaco for a much-needed reprieve from the rest of the world, the little coffee shop nestled into the charming walls of Monte-Carlo had become a necessary distraction to the outside. 

The employees all knew you by name now, often passing by the table and inquiring about your day, inquiring about the book you were reading, or the work assignment shown on your computer screen. Always engaging in polite conversation back, it was one of your favourite places to be. 

People-watching was the only negative of it. The loving couples who passed through, all cuddled up together as they ordered their drinks for their walk throughout the city, the older couples who sat just tables away and reminisced on their lives together. It was the only thing that drove you crazy about the charming little shop.  

Watching them occupied your thoughts more time’s than you cared to admit. Daydreaming and losing focus on the outside world was a commonality, especially in the little coffee shop. 

It was exactly where you found yourself currently, your eye’s peering to the left as you watched an older man place his hand over who you assumed to be his wife’s hand. Their wedding bands shining brightly in the Monaco sun, soft smiles on their faces as they peered at one another, your heart begging to be let out of this turmoil, begging you to turn away and focus on something else, anything else. 

Its wish was granted when you felt the cold of a drink begin to sink into your shirt, instantly soaking your skin, a gasp of shock falling from your lips. 

“Oh god, I am so sorry. I just turned around and you were right there, let me grab some cloths, please.” 

You knew instantly it was your own fault, you hadn’t been paying attention, more focused on the elderly couple, prompting the person in front of you to spill their... was that Red Bull? On your shirt? 

“Is this Red Bull?”  

The man in front of you grimaced as he handed you the dry cloths, a small smile falling across his lips while his eyes crinkled with the movement of his face. A bit of a cute look, you thought to yourself while beginning to dab at your shirt as the smell of the energy drink wafted up your nose. 

“Yes, I’m so sorry. I don’t drink coffee often, but my sister wanted to stop here because she had heard good things, I was just waiting for her drink while she took a quick call outside. I really only drink Red Bull in public when I have to, or when I’m getting paid to. I thought it was her behind me when I whipped around like that, I’m so sorry. Please, can I buy you a coffee as an apology? Or a tea?” 

You weren’t entirely sure if the rambling was out of nerves that you were going to overreact over the spilt drink, or if he just simply felt like he owed it to you to explain the entire incident and how it came about in full description. 

The frustration that was brewing was not at all a fault of the cute man in front of you, but an accumulation of days of sadness, an irregular appetite, and just a combination of heartbreak. 

Trying to keep the tears of frustration at bay, you instantly shook your head towards the cute man in front of you. “Thank you, but no. Obviously this is a sign I need to go home, sorry for spilling your drink.” 

Before he could get the chance to say anything back, you were forcing yourself to rush out of the coffee shop before an outburst could erupt from inside of you. You hadn’t even noticed the look of intrigue that the Dutchman gave you. 

Bad was the blood of the song in the cab  On your first trip to LA  You ate at my favorite spot for dinner 

The memory of the handsome Dutchman in the small coffee shop left your mind not long before the happy memories of your ex-boyfriend finally forced themselves out of your head. Things had finally begun looking up, the more time you spent with your friends, the more time you spent focusing on work and the hopeful promotion that would come with it. 

Although, your boss had insisted you take a few weeks off, citing the fact you were there more than anyone she knew, and that burnout was inevitable if you didn’t take the much deserved and obligated time off. The amount of overtime and banked hours allowing you to take the time off with full pay just made it easier to agree. 

Which was exactly how you found yourself just south of Zurich, the snow whipping past your face as the ski lift ascended higher and higher up the mountain. Your friends giggled beside you, smiles lighting up everyone’s faces. 

Winter break, although cold and snowy, was always a fan favourite amongst your friend group. It was exhilarating, you hadn’t had the chance to attend the annual ski trip while you were with your ex-boyfriend, he hated skiing and anything including winter sports.  

It’s what made the trip even better, getting the chance to catch up with your friends and their partners, the chance to laugh, and drink, and just smile again. It was all worth it.  

The group of guys in the ski lift behind obviously had the same idea, hooting and hollering at each other as the ski lift continued its ascent. You couldn’t decipher what they were saying, the words in a different language, but the name ‘Max’ seemed to be a commonality. Maybe someone was missing their dog while on vacation? Who knows.  

After hours of skiing, the alcohol in the ski lodge was flowing. The laughter and happiness from every group was prevalent, everyone there was so obviously happy to get away from the real world. It’s what places like that were for. 

“That guy over there can’t stop looking at you,” jostled out of your thoughts by one of your friends, you followed her head inclination to one of the tables a few rows down, a familiar face looking back at you inquisitorially.  

It took you a second to place his face, the day in the coffee shop floating back to your mind prompting a small laugh to fall from your lips.  

“That’s the guy who spilt the Red Bull all over me when I ran into him in the coffee shop in Monaco, remember?” 

It had been a running joke, a typical meet-cute in a coffee shop, but instead of spilt coffee... a spilt Red Bull.  

“That’s the guy who spilt the Red Bull on you?” 

One of your friend’s boyfriends gaped at you, as he continuously maneuvered his look between you and the man in question. Nodding your head, he continued to gape at you. 

“Don’t you know who that is?” Giving him a look, you shook your head. 

“That’s the Max Verstappen. Three-time Formula 1 World Champion? Dutch God? Second-coming of the Formula 1 Jesus?” 

You recognized the name, having heard it at the few races you had attended, but you never would’ve been able to place the name to the face otherwise. 

A laugh erupted from one of the other members of the group, a shove directed at the other man. “I think you've got Verstappen mixed up with Lewis Hamilton.”  

“He’s kinda cute, huh?” One of the girls pointed out to you, a small giggle falling from her lips as she looked over towards the man in question, his eyes meeting yours as you looked in his direction again. 

His hair was flopped over, obviously a combination of a long day wearing a ski helmet and a hat, mixed with the combination of the sweat and heat that engulfed the inside of the lodge made him look even more attractive. Windswept, tipsy, and overall, just happy. 

“So much better than that last loser.” A mutual agreement of ‘yes’, ‘obviously’, and ‘fucking no wonder’, floated throughout your group at your friend’s words. 

Shrugging them off, you just laughed and pushed the conversation in another direction and away from the man sitting across the room, who seemed as if he couldn’t take his eyes off you at all. 

As the night started to dwindle down, you bid goodnight to the remaining group of friends and started your route back to your room. 

“At least I have nothing to spill on you tonight.” 

Directing your gaze to the voice at hand, your eyes made direct contact with the blue irises of Max Verstappen.  

Quirking an eyebrow at him as a small laugh left your lips, “I’m sure the bars fully stocked with drinks you could spill on me. You’re just not trying hard enough.” 

A loud guffaw fell from the man’s mouth, his hands instinctively covering his mouth as he laughed. You couldn’t help the heat that grew on your cheeks at his reaction, his smile directed towards you when he finally moved his hands from his face. 

“I’m so very sorry. Next time I run into you, I’ll try to make sure I have a full drink in hand to spill on you.” 

“Oh, you plan on running into me again?” 

Shrugging his shoulders with a small grin, the Dutchman just laughed. “Well, I ran into the person I spilt a Red Bull in a coffee shop on in one of my favourite places in Switzerland, I’m sure I’m bound to run into you again. Things happen in three’s, don’t they?” 

Max ran a hand through his hair as he smiled at you, before either of you could get the chance to say anything else, one of his friends was clapping a hand against his shoulder with a boisterous laugh. 

“Time to get out of here, mate. Say goodnight to the pretty girl,” he said. 

You felt your cheeks heating again, as Max smiled at you in farewell, a small wave from both of you any indication of goodbye as you both walked away. 

Time, mystical time  Cuttin' me open, then healin' me fine  Were there clues I didn't see? 

F1 race weekends were as fun as they were busy. Any race you had attended since you were an intern was always focused primarily on working. Getting the opportunity to attend a race with your friends, in Melbourne, without having to worry about work or advertising, or anything else, was obviously the best way to spend it. 

Lou, one of your friends linked her arm with yours as she basically skipped through the hospitality area, pointing out the different garages as she got a glimpse of them. Her boyfriend, Nick, had gotten both of you passes through his own work, a long-term employee of McLaren meant that the both of you had been spoiled for the weekend. 

"Maybe you’ll end up running into Max again, imagine? A third little meet-cute,” she said, with a giggle.  

Rolling your eyes at her, you just laughed as she grinned back. “Don’t roll your eyes at me! It’s totally possible, I’m sure Nick could totally convince Lando to convince Max to pass by the garage or the hospitality. We could totally orchestrate it.” 

“Babe, it’s pure coincidence I’ve run into the guy more than once. I’m not like... going out of my way to run into Max Verstappen.” 

Huffing back at you, Lou sent a mock pout in your direction as she continued to drag you through the hospitality center. Passing a stand full of travel cups of coffee, you were eager to grab one as you walked by. 

Before you could even press the lid of the cup to your lips, you were interrupted by the sound of a familiar voice, yet again.  

“Is it your turn to spill something on me, then? I’m having a pretty bad day, and I don’t know if I can handle that.” 

Both you and Lou whipped around to the sound of the man’s voice, the man who just a short time ago had been forced to retire his race due to a faulty and on fire brake. You could practically feel Lou humming with excitement as she looked between you and Max. 

Shoving her hand out in his direction, Lou introduced herself to Max who did the same back. 

“With that, I’m going to see how everything’s going in the garage. Call me if you get lost, yeah?” Without giving you the chance to argue, she bolted away.  

Silently groaning, you looked back towards Max. For someone who just retired from a race he was probably going to win, he seemed relatively calm and relaxed. 

“So, are you?” 

“Am I what?” You questioned back, confused. 

“Are you going to spill your coffee on me, in retaliation for the Red Bull?” Instantly shaking your head, obviously the retirement from the race couldn’t have affected him too negatively, if he was already cracking jokes in your direction. 

“You don’t even know my name, and you’re accusing me of wanting to go out of my way to kick a man when he’s already down?” 

Watching his face fall, you could tell he was about to defend his words. A smile began to cross your face, his eyes jokingly narrowing in your direction. 

Sticking your hand out towards him, you finally introduced yourself, your name falling from his lips as if it was a beautiful word from a testament as he took your hand. It would be embarrassing to say a small spark shot up your arm, but the racing driver had inevitably shocked you, an apology dropping from his lips almost immediately. 

“Terrible race to stalk me at, though. You couldn’t have at least made it a race that I actually stood a chance at winning? Pretty embarrassing to have to retire for such a stupid reason, in front of such a pretty girl.”  

If there was one thing other than racing that Max was good at, it was making your cheeks warm and the butterflies in your stomach spike.  

“Well... I am here as a guest of McLaren... maybe I was just really hoping for a Piastri win. Gotta root for the hometown boy, right?” 

Shaking his head, Max mockingly pressed his hand to his chest and looked at you like he was internally wounded. 

“You’d support McLaren over me? The man who runs into you in the weirdest of places? Who gave you a free Red Bull without a can?” he said. 

You could barely help the small snort that fell from your lips at his words, your hand instantly slapping against your lips in horror. Max openly laughed at your reaction, arm gently hitting your shoulder with a grin. 

“Just for that, I’ll support Ferrari before I support you and your Red Bull’s. I don’t think Charles Leclerc would spill a Red Bull on me.” 

In response, Max grinned and pointed in the direction of the Ferrari garage, the red and yellow prominent amongst the stone. “Shall I go introduce you to Charles, then? He’d probably spill an actual hot coffee on you, at least I didn’t leave any lasting damage.” 

“The trauma of smelling like an original Red Bull for more than 2 hours isn’t enough damage?” you questioned, your eyebrows quirking up at him. 

Max looked at you in horror, “You can’t possibly be saying you don’t think the smell of an original, cold, fresh out of a fridge, Red Bull isn’t just simply lovely. This is potentially the biggest red flag about you.” 

You were quick on your feet, the words dropping from your lips before you could contain them. 

“I guess we’re all on fire today, then. Red flags left and right.” you said with a smirk. 

All Max did was laugh at your words, his head rolling back while his hands placed themselves on his hips.  

Just as he had been the last two times, Max was interrupted before he could continue the conversation, a lady in a Red Bull sweater tapping him on the shoulder to let him know he needed to make his way back to the garage for some interviews that had been requested of him.  

“Nice seeing you again, I’m sure next time I see you, you’ll probably heal more of my Red Bull soaked shirt trauma.”  

The only response he gave was a loud laugh and a wave, as he walked away. 

Time, wondrous time  Gave me the blues and then purple pink skies 

The FIA year-end Gala was exquisite. Everyone was dressed to the nines, the lights were twinking, the service was lovely, and the atmopshere was electric. 

Even though, for almost all of the people there, it was a requirement of their jobs, everyone seemed as if they were having a wonderful time. Mingling with those around them, actively engaging in conversation with co-workers, friends, long-time acquaintances.  

Your boss had elected that you and a fellow co-worker attend in her place, admitting that although she loved the excitement of the night, she needed a break from the glitz and the glam of Formula 1 for a tiny bit. She knew you were more than willing to take her place and do an incredible job.  

Which is exactly how you found yourself at a table with Jack, one of your co-workers, a wide grin on his face as he observed everything going on around him. He was new to the company, just having recently completed his internship and been offered a full-time position with the organization. It was his first time at a Formula 1 event of any kind. 

“Isn’t this brilliant? I’m a huge motorsports fan, I wanted to get into karting when I was a kid but it was just too expensive, my parents couldn’t afford that. I’ve never even had the opportunity to go to a race, and now I’m in the same building, the same room as literal race drivers. Have you been to a race before?” 

You forgot how much he could yap, an almost over-eager human equivalent of an excited golden retriever. He looked at you expectantly, waiting for your answer to his question. 

“I’ve been to a few races for work, and a few privately with some friends. They’re always a great time, you’ll have lots of fun when you start going for work.” you said. 

Grinning at your words, you began to tune him out as he launched into another rant. You were pulled out of your thoughts at the sound of someone saying your name, your head swiveling in the direction of the voice. 

You were almost positive Jack was squealing out loud, as Max Verstappen once again entered your view. Smiling up at him, you stood up to greet the Dutchman, which resulted in him pressing a chaste kiss to your cheek, his hand gently patting you on the back as he did so. 

“I just wanted to come by and say hello. You look very beautiful.”  

Unable to contain the anxious laugh that fell from your lips, you immediately smiled at him. Accepting compliments was obviously not your forte, especially when they were coming from Max, who looked more handsome than ever in his suit, and the wide smile on his cheeks pulling everything together. 

“Never thought I’d see you in anything other than jeans and a Red Bull shirt, Max. You look lovely, as well.” 

“Making fun of me, and a compliment all in one? I will say, I probably would’ve worn jeans if I could, but my public relations manager likely would’ve murdered me and I quite enjoy being alive,” he said. 

Shaking your head in silent laughter, you barely even noticed as Jack thrust his hand out to introduce himself to Max.  

“Your girlfriend is lovely, mate. This is what, the fourth time I’ve run into you?” Max said in greeting, a somewhat tight smile on his face. 

Jack instantly shook his head, “Oh god no, we’re co-workers. I don’t mean she’s not lovely, she is. I’m not her type, or actually she’s not my type. I’m yapping, this is embarrassing. Mr. Verstappen, it was really nice to meet you. I need a drink. I’m sorry.” 

He practically sprinted away, both you and Max looked on with amused grins present on your faces. 

“So, if he’s not your boyfriend, does that mean one of the guys you were with in Switzerland are?” 

Shaking your head, “God, no. Those are friends I’ve known for years. I’m very much single, right now.” 

Max looked like he was in complete contemplation as he debated what to say next. You were secretly hoping he would take the bait, maybe ask if you were free after the gala, or ask how long you were going to be in town for. 

Running into him again once was by chance, twice was a coincidence, and thrice was obviously a sign. The universe was obviously trying to tell you something, there was a reason this man, who had first shown up in your life just after one of the worst heartbreaks you had ever experienced, continued to show up. It was hard to not get your hopes up, to not get ahead of yourself. 

It was hard to keep the butterflies at bay, truthfully.  

“Hypothetically, does that mean you’re free after the gala?” 

“Hypothetically... I man be free after the gala,” you responded. 

Nodding his head, Max smiled in your direction. “I think it would be a crime to let this beautiful dress, and my efforts to wear a suit for something go to waste. I’d love to take you out after.” 

And isn't it just so pretty to think  All along there was some  Invisible string  Tying you to me? 

Max had been transparent from the beginning; he wasn’t overly affection nor was he a fan of excessive cuddling. He got warm often, and the moment he got too warm when he was in bed, he got miserable. But when he wanted to cuddle? You had to take what he would give you.  

Which was exactly how you found yourselves right now, Max playfully attempting to whack your phone out of your hand, his other arm wrapped around your waist as he burrowed his head into your neck. 

“Schatje, I just wanna cuddle for a bit. Give me a little attention.” 

Slapping gently at his arm, you looked at him in mock exasperation. All you ever did was give him attention, he almost took the words out of your mouth when he muttered, “I know you give me plenty of attention, don’t yell at me.” 

You just shook your head silently as you used your free hand to gently twirl small tuffs of his hair, a small hum of content falling from his lips at your movements. 

“What are you looking at?”  

Attempting to look over at your phone, you moved the screen so he could see it better. It was a video from your first ever Formula 1 race, back when you were still a little intern and your boss had wanted you to gain some exposure to the sport. 

“I’m just looking back at some videos. Found this one from my first ever race. I didn’t even know I still had this.” 

Max instantly perked up and looked at your phone, his eyes squinting as he tried to decipher something in the video. 

“Do you remember which race it was? Looks like it’s a few years old, yeah?”  

Nodding your head, you tried to do the math in your head, thinking back to what year you first started your internship. “I think it was 2016? It was definitely in Spain, but I’m pretty positive it was 2016.” 

“Do you know what that means?” Max questioned, a soft smile on his lips as he pressed a small kiss to the junction between your chin and throat before looking back up at you. 

Shaking your head in confusion, you tried to determine what he could be talking about, giving him the chance to continue.  

“My first ever win in Formula 1, for Red Bull, was the 2016 Spanish Grand Prix. Isn’t that so ironic? Guess things were always meant to be.” 

Maybe he was right. 

Maybe there was always a string, a small, invisible string, tying everything together, tying you to him.  

genuinely i got this into my mind and felt like i was legally obligated to write it asap. i hope you LOVE it and i would so appreciate it if you told me if you do. thank you, love you all 🫶🏻

[mayghosts]

kate martin x photographer!reader….

Kate Martin: Kate x photographer!reader Headcannons

Summary: Request :)

Warnings: little NSFT on the bottom, all fluff other than that!!

AN: Guys I am actually writing this in the bathroom at 1 AM because we have no wifi/cell service in my bedroom so its not proof read well

FRIEND ERA:

♠︎ You guys initially met during a seminar you both shared, she sat next to you while you were editing photos and was very distracted by your screen the whole class

♦︎ After that she just kept sitting next to you until she built up the confidence to ask about you work

“Hi, sorry if this is weird but you are such a good photographer! I have seen your photos during class and stuff… is it your job?” You smiled at her praise, you had seen her looking at your screen for the past few classes so you were happy she finally said something. “Thanks!! I'm not, but I hope one day I can be!”

♣︎ It took her about a year to convince you to start doing photos for the basketball team because you didn’t have a lot of confidence in your work at first and you didn't know a ton about sports photography

♥︎ Always your biggest hype women and would always insist on accompanying you to shoots or posing you you

♠︎ During practices she would always try to show off so you would take more photos of her

“Y/N! Wait I'm gonna do something cool, get a photo of this” “Did you get it?” “Does it look cool?” *you can hear Gabbie and Cait making fun of her in the background*

♦︎ Whenever she had a water break she would be peering over your shoulder trying to look at the photos you took

♣︎ She loves watching you edit, download and share photos. She would lie on your bed for hours just silently watching and adding little comments here and there

♥︎Always makes fun of you for taking a lot of photos of her (you can't help it, she's just very pretty)

“Jeez y/n how many did you take?” you scrolled down through the file you had just downloaded, “Uhh I guess a lot more than I thought…”

DATING ERA:

♣︎ Kates Instagram is never low when it comes to photos due to the huge amounts you take of her

♥︎ When she gets drafted to the Aces, you move in with her and join the photography crew there

♠︎ Her praise increases tenfold and she is so supportive of your career and you work

You groaned letting your head fall in your hands, for some reason none of the photos looked right. Sliding off the bed Kate came up behind you to wrap her arms around your shoulders. “Whats wrong baby?” sighing you pulled you head up, wresting it back against Kates shoulder. “They all look weird! I haven't taken any good photos for a while, I’m scared their gonna drop me from the crew.” Spinning you around in your chair Kate looked at you in your eyes, “Baby you are an amazing photographer, and they would be beyond stupid to let you go. I know you have something good in there because I loved everything I saw during practice. Why don't we just go eat and then we can look at it again with a fresh set of eyes, okay?” You sighed and nodded, standing up and pulling Kate into a hug.

♦︎ Constantly buying you more equipment and cameras. Any tool or piece of equipment you mention bring interested in… its on your desk next week

♣︎ She insisted that you teach her how to take photos, and for her birthday you bought her a cute little camera

“Hey Katie baby, can I see the photos you took?” She smilled excitedly at you as she handed you her camera. As you flipped through, you began to notice a common theme in all of these photos. “Baby, I love these but did you take any photos without me in them?” (she didn't)

♠︎ always showing off your photos and plugging your website like crazy to anyone she meets

♥︎ The hard launch is very photo perfect- but also super cute and natural

♦︎You always wear her jersey when you take photos during games and your photos are still very Kate heavy

NSFT

♥︎ Nudes go crazy.

[specialgradefckr]

Heatwave: Day 4

tw: explicit content. 13k+ words. College AU. Satoru/Reader, past (unrequited) Suguru/Reader and Suguru/Satoru. afab!beta!reader (they/them), alpha!gojo. feral!gojo, feral!reader, i am not sorry

Some alcohol, but no one is actually drunk. oral (reader receiving), sex toys, dirty talk, knots, satoru in rut, satoru is a little gross but only because he's obsessed, you and satoru take turns going insane over each other

childhood friends to lovers. humor. intense platonic love. PINING. so much pining. omegaverse antics. gojo has provider/caretaker!alpha instincts. this fic is more romance than smut so just read it if you want chemistry and yearning with gojo that ends in sex.

Prompt: A beta develops the ability to smell scents and finds themselves losing their mind.

You’d never particularly minded being a beta. Sure, alphas and omegas didn’t have to deal with periods, but considering how awful ruts and heats can be, you think you got the better end of the deal.

In isolation, being a beta isn’t a bad thing, although there’s times you’ve wished you were something else.

Your best friend, Satoru Gojo, is an alpha, and that had never really mattered, either.

Then one day – you wake up, as per usual.

You meet up with him and walk to Jujutsu Technical College together; Satoru lives on campus, but he likes to walk with you. Presumably to snag an extra ten minutes or so during which to be a pain in your ass.

As soon as he sees you, he beams, a spring in his extra large stride as he comes up behind you, throwing an arm over your shoulders.

This wasn’t unusual. He’d done this a million times before. What’s unusual is a – something in the air. You sniff, and Satoru picks it up right away, sniffing along with you.

Whatever you’re smelling, he must not detect it.

It doesn’t smell like anything specific, you couldn’t definitively match it to a food or candle or anything in particular.

It’s a sweet and sour sort of thing, similar to lemonade; it almost makes scrunch your nose, and at the same time your mouth waters as if you can already taste it.

“What is it?” He looks at you from behind those stupid sunglasses that somehow looked awesome on him. “I know it’s not me.”

“Nothing, I just thought I caught a whiff of like… a drink or something. I must have spilled it on my clothes somewhere.” You’re really sure you didn’t, but it’s the only thing that makes sense.

It makes less sense that the smell gets stronger when Satoru leans in towards you – way too close, you’ve gotta yell at him about personal space sometime – and takes an exaggerated sniff.

“You look like a pervert,” Your observation doesn’t stop him in the least. In fact, you think he sniffs even harder. “Have I got crack on me or something?” Satoru snickers at that.

“Nah, I’m actually not getting anything.” He leans in even more, almost towards your neck, “You sure you’re not going crazy?”

“Ugh, stop it, you freak!” You shove him aside, and he lets you with a laugh.

You don’t smell it again for the rest of the walk.

-

You visit a doctor’s office. Nothing has been unusual between your legs, and god knows Satoru would have teased you about it immediately if he’d smelled anything different.

But the doctor tells you why you smelled something he didn’t; alphas, especially young ones not yet out of their teenage years, were generally blind to their own scents, as most people were.

What you’d been smelling had been Satoru.

Sudden onset scent sensitivity. Real tongue-twister of a name, but it was real, and you’d looked it up after they told you about it.

It’s funny, because you’ve never had a very strong sense of smell; Satoru had always been utterly baffled by it.

Especially after presenting, he was floored at the fact that you couldn’t tell that his jacket smelled like him, to which you’d asked him (very seriously) if he had ever heard of a washing machine.

Washing with soap did typically remove the scent from articles of clothing, but it was common for an alpha or omega to run their hands over fresh laundry, or toss a clean-but-scented blanket into the dryer for a quick tumble.

Scenting stuff. You’d never really gotten the idea behind it. All humans were born with scent glands, and their secondary sexes develop those glands – along with their genitalia – in different ways.

A beta like you had no secondary sex hormones, and consequently didn’t develop any secondary sex characteristics. While betas do have scent glands, the scent they produce is weaker, and they don’t emit pheromones at all.

However, human bodies and developments were as diverse as they were weird. It wasn’t uncommon for individuals to produce a specific hormone or group of hormones, developing part of a secondary sex’s characteristics without actually presenting as one.

Turns out your body produces a hormone linked to the ability to smell pheromones. The doctor said it had probably started happening during puberty, and over the years, it eventually led to your newfound sensitivity.

That didn’t make you an alpha or an omega, but it did clue you in to something that only they could sense. A whole new world of conversations and invisible signaling going on, pheromones, scents –

And, as you learned in a painful, awkward stint past Satoru’s dorm room at the college – there was no good way of saying this – cum.

Good old whiff of cum while you walked by, so profuse it almost kind of gagged you, head racing with confusion and alarm at what the fuck this new sensation was.

But very quickly you catch on to how your heart picks up, how your thighs clench. Alpha cum has pheromones in it, after all.

And a peek into his bachelor pad later reveals a trashcan full of tissues you wouldn’t have glanced twice at before. Maybe not even once.

Just beside them is a seemingly innocuous crumpled up sock and your nose is saying yUP. THE SEXY IS ON THE SOCK.

Okay, so it’s cum. And you know it’s cum. And you’ll know it’s cum every time you visit, and every time Satoru is even a little bit messy with it, which is always, because he doesn’t know that you can smell his cum.

Cool, cool, okay, cool.

But that was fine. Totally fine, right? It’s not like you thought Satoru was a monk or anything. So, your best friend jerks off sometimes. He’s a teenage boy, it’d be weirder if he didn’t!

It’s hard to look him in the (extremely pretty) eyes that day, though.

It isn’t a gross scent, exactly, it’s just very… distinct.

Satoru’s cum does still smell a bit like him, that tangy, mouth-watering scent, but with an unmistakable undertone that your brain can only register as horny.

But like. You know what it is! You’re forced to know! And even if you’re just a beta, you can’t help how you react to the knowledge.

Even if it’s weird, though, in a (deeply awkward, uncomfortable) way you’re glad.

You were close friends with alphas and omegas, and those friendships were just like any other, really, but there was this type of communication that you couldn’t understand.

Omegas and alphas would just get certain things about one another, a natural sort of empathy that only came from shared experiences.

A party that you weren’t invited to, a bunch of inside jokes you weren’t in on, a language you couldn’t understand.

Satoru was your best friend, but you didn’t think for a second that you were his.

His best friend was a fellow alpha, Suguru Geto. You’d met in high school, years ago, and you’d been crushing on Geto for a while before he presented. You’d already presented by then and you were sure he’d be a beta, just like you.

Even though Satoru had been telling you for weeks that he’d be an alpha. Said he could just tell. He just knew. Boy, it was annoying when it finally happened.

Alpha-beta pairs aren’t the rarest thing in the world but they’re not that common, either.

You’d been hopeful about it for a while, until you see how the two of them got along, understood each other so seamlessly, connected even during their not-so-uncommon arguments.

(Satoru had always gone to you, after those, to complain. As if you’d take his side over Geto’s! Even if you weren’t infatuated with the guy, he was way more reasonable than Satoru. High school Satoru was a menace.)

Even after Geto left for a different college, there was always this layer of distance that you felt between you two after he presented.

Satoru didn’t seem to know it existed at all, but you felt it, every time he or Geto or anyone else referenced these feelings that only alphas or omegas experienced. Feelings you couldn’t understand.

“Eugh, I’m in pre-rut, it totally sucks…”

“I told you, Satoru, order one of those online rut kits. The included toys work really well.”

“Whaaaaaaat? I thought you were gonna ask out that omega guy from Chemistry!”

“Don’t remind me, I almost wish I had. God, if I did, maybe I could spend the next rut with him…”

And it was bad enough that you kept being reminded of it, that your crush was an alpha and his dream partner would always be an omega.

That you’d never be what he wanted, just what he had, even if you got together.

What was worse was how touchy they got, even after presenting. Casually slinging arms around your shoulders, both of them, hugs to say hello and goodbye, the sudden familiarity and physicality you could only attribute to them presenting as alphas.

It was apparently normal for alphas or omegas to want to scent their close friends, and you were always stuck between the two. Some kind of pack behavior stuff.

Satoru constantly took your stuff, made plans with you then cancelled later, showed up whenever you were trying to make new friends to scare people off.

Like all your free time should belong to him, even if all he wanted to do was find an omega to bang. You were young, and dumb, and Satoru was your closest friend, so you let him get away with it.

He’d always been possessive like that. There weren’t a lot of people who could get close to Satoru, and even fewer people who stayed there.

He was needy, demanding, and capricious all at once, just as likely to leave you on read than to spam you with twenty messages in five minutes.

So hot and cold. Geto got most of Satoru’s attention back in high school, and when he could be bothered to hang out with you, Geto was usually there too.

Geto was less of a raging whore than Satoru, but they talked about it casually enough for you to know they both got around. Like it was some badge of pride.

Dumb alpha crap. Even when they didn’t want you, they had to be weird towards you.

They’d steal your clothes, try to get you to wear theirs, fussing over seemingly meaningless trivialities, like which colors you liked better, whose lunch you wanted a bite from, where you sat during movie night.

Exchanging looks while you glared at them, like they were speaking in a language you didn’t know. Satoru’s arm around your neck while Geto leaned into your side.

But you could tell what was going on between them. Bumping into each other, shoving one another’s shoulders and laughing.

The casual competition that extended to everything – sports, grades, social connections – not just you. How Satoru started spending more time with Geto, hanging out without you.

Nothing was more important to Satoru than finding someone who understood him.

He’d been utterly heartbroken when Geto left, and if this was how he reacted to losing a best friend who he insisted he didn’t have feelings for, you dreaded how he’d react to an actual breakup.

For his part, Satoru had gotten better. You got better at establishing boundaries, making other friends, and telling him directly that he made you feel like shit sometimes. Slamming the door in his pretty face had never felt so good.

If you’d known how easy he was, how that was all it took to get him crying and whining and scratching at your door, then you’d have kicked him to the curb ages ago.

Satoru had tried hard to understand you from then on, to respect your boundaries; borrowing things instead of stealing, keeping his commitments, be the friend you deserved, and not do weird alpha posturing crap.

But now you could detect some of the things that they could. You had a little look into the world he’d been living in, of scents and pheromones and irresistible arousal...

And you’re just as confused as before.

Confirming what you’d always thought; you’re a beta, he’s an alpha, and nothing in the world could ever bridge this particular gap between you two.

There’s so many weird things, so many mixed signals, it honestly doesn’t make any sense.

It has to be something an omega would understand, something Satoru or Geto’s ideal partner would just get, that you… couldn’t.

You start smelling Satoru’s scent in a lot of places, not just when you’re around him.

Somewhere in your closet. Okay, that makes sense, you remember him getting something out of there one time. When you look, you find the source of the scent – a scarf.

Satoru had bought a matching version after seeing it on you; it was something he’d done before. Shown up with an identical article of clothing, crowing about it totally looked better on him. You couldn’t roll your eyes hard enough at him.

He must have dropped it and thought it was yours. You’d sworn your copy of this scarf was in this closet, but you can’t find it, so maybe you wore it and left it somewhere else and forgot. Or maybe he picked up your version –

No, wait, he wouldn’t have. Satoru was supposed to be mostly blind to his own scent but he could smell yours, at least a little.

And scent blindness didn’t apply to objects or people that were actually scented… or maybe they did? You’d have to check it out. Just more alpha things you didn’t understand.

Besides, you were being pretty careless with your laundry lately. There’s an extra sock that appears in your wash, making you think that maybe he really did just leave his scarf and yours is still lying around somewhere, but the sock is nowhere near his size.

Sometimes you think this new scent sensitivity is just driving you crazy.

There’s more, too. Like a pen of yours that suddenly reeks of him; you recall having seen him put it in his mouth when staying over for a study session, but you’d assumed it was his own back then.

He would still help himself to your things these days, boy-prince that he was - he just made sure to repay you later, always with something nicer than what he'd taken. And he never took anything important.

Saliva was so strongly scented that even Satoru would have had to smell it, and he just did that to your pen? Eugh!

And how he leans into you when you’re walking side by side sometimes. An arm over your shoulder.

Now, you realize that with the way he rests his stupid lanky ass body against you, your hair often gets tucked into his neck, right where his glands ooze his electric scent all over you.

But Satoru’s weird, he’s always been weird. Probably a bit possessive, too – you remembered him and Geto doing this crap in high school, it’s just that you’re only now noticing how obvious it is to anyone who can smell it.

Then, one day hanging out in his dorm, you start to smell something different on him. His sweet and sour smell practically burns in the air like ozone, overtaking your head from the first sniff just like a shock.

Satoru doesn’t even notice you being weird about it, either, he just gets all huffy and tells you to come sit next to him.

Wait. Is he… is Gojo…

You look at him, making a face you’ve seen about a million times before, eyes glancing away as if bored.

One breath in and your senses scream horny. Horny, horny boy, horny jail, Satoru might as well be blushing and grabbing his crotch from what your brain is suddenly screaming at you.

This isn’t the scent you’d smelled before, when he had – oh god WHY do you have to be thinking this – just finished jerking off.

What??? What is it?? What is going ON? He hadn’t been watching porn or something before you came in, right?

“Satoru?” You say his name and his head instantly turns to you, like he’s standing to attention.

Something more trickles into the air just for a moment, a happy burst of pheromones reminiscent of a tiny little firework.

…He didn’t just, like, cum or anything, right?

Your name interrupts your thoughts, “What is it?” Big blue eyes looking at you. Pretty as ever.

There’s an inexplicable fondness that rushes through you, a rush of comfort, and reassurance, like you can tell him anything and he’ll help you.

“Uh, just – are you studying for Calc II? I have a test coming up.” Satoru isn’t in Calc II, what were you talking about? Why did you even ask?

“Yeah, I took it, let me get you my notes from last semester!” He shoves the chair back quicker than you’d expect, a grin creeping up his face, “Say thank you senpai~” He says in sing-song as he waves a notebook at you.

You roll your eyes. “We’re both sophomores.”

“But you’re behind me in this class,” Always so smug, “Don’t worry~ You know I’ve always got you, hm?”

Something feels too warm inside you for him to smell this horny. And why is it getting to you like this? What’s getting to you? Is this some kind of alpha thing? Does he even know he’s doing this?

You almost open up your mouth to ask him, but think better of it.

It’s not something you’d get anyways. You’re a beta and all.

“Yeah. Thanks, Satoru.”

He actually leaves you to study in peace after that. He takes the bed, claiming he just needs to review some stuff, and lets you sit at his desk and write answers.

Every now and then, you find your voice asking for help out loud with uncharacteristic meekness. Like you’re afraid he’ll tease you more instead of helping (the teasing, you expect, but surely you know he’ll help you anyways).

But Satoru darts over with an equally uncharacteristic attentiveness, looking over your shoulder, explaining the problem right away from beginning to end, patiently covering each part and answering your questions.

His face feels so warm next to yours. You know his neck – his scent glands – are digging into your shoulder where he’s looming over you, arms reaching around your side to point at different parts of the problem. Satoru doesn’t realize you smell it, but like this, his scent is overwhelming.

It leaves you flushed, tugging at your collar and swallowing dryly.

“Oh, you thirsty? I was about to get snacks!” He chirps before practically prancing off.

Satoru sounds weirdly excited to do it. It isn’t that weird – he loves study treats, “A little reward for working so hard~” – but his scent exudes a weird eagerness, a satisfaction, like he’s doing a really good job at… something.

What is this? Some alpha thing? You use the opportunity you get when he prances off to fan yourself. Take a deep breath or two.

There’s nothing weird about this, Satoru is acting the way he’s always been acting. He doesn’t know you can tell, now.

No way are you letting go of this advantage, after all that time he must have lorded it over you. In high school his scent was probably even stronger, and he and Geto rubbed it ALL over you!

Something catches your eye, though, or rather your nose. It’s on the corner of his desk, at the very edge. It smells like Satoru everywhere in here (you’d begun to learn that teen alpha boys, much like regular teen boys, absolutely reeked) but this scarf doesn’t. In fact, you think you recognize it.

Picking it up, you can smell your own scent on it, just faintly. Betas don’t smell like much, but this was something you wore often, and you can catch the faint vanilla sugar aroma that’s supposed to be peaceful and calming, like betas apparently are.

This was it, the same scarf that had gone missing in your closet. This one being yours – it still had your scent on it, somehow, even with how much Satoru reeked – and the one in your closet, as you suspected, was his.

The little thief! What was he doing with your clothing? Did he lose his scarf and decide to nick yours?

But… how could he have lost it in your closet? You were pretty sure you’d left yours in your closet.

From what you know about Alphas, they’re not supposed to like foreign scents in their “dens”, even from a mild beta. It would be immediately obvious that this doesn’t belong.

Maybe, being blind to his own scent, he didn’t notice your smell, but if he’d used it, even for just a couple hours, your scent should be totally gone from it.

So why’s it just sitting here, away from his bed or anywhere else the scent of you on it might be disturbed?

Satoru must have swapped them out intentionally. Or – why would he? If he took yours and just didn’t wear it, then that would explain it, too, right? Maybe the one in your room was yours, and he’d just swapped them back after wearing it. But why? Satoru would probably borrow your toothbrush if it saved him a trip to the convenience store, he didn’t care.

Your mind spins and spins until Satoru comes back, a couple bags of convenience store treats and drinks in hand, grinning and preening so hard – “Aren’t I just the best partner? Study buddy? You’re wel~come~” – if he were a dog his tail would be wagging wildly behind him.

Whatever. You’re just going crazy. Betas aren’t even supposed to be able to tell any of this stuff. It’s weird, you wouldn’t get it.

But Satoru gets you – has your back, like he always does. You leave his company smiling, content, like you always have.

-

After you ace the test the next night, you run at him beaming with excitement. He catches you in his arms and spins you around and you smell a pure and genuine joy in his scent as he teases you.

“Of course you aced it! You doubted my teaching?!”

“Never, Satoru-sensei~”

“Hehe. What a promotion from being your senpai!”

“I never admitted that!”

(Give him an inch and he’ll take a mile. And you’ll hand it over with a smile, too, because when have you ever been able to say no to that pretty face?)

Just – you’re friends. You celebrate each other’s accomplishments, nothing weird there.

-

You see your scarf again after a night of drinking.

It’s so stupid. Satoru knows he’s a huge lightweight. He turned twenty right before finals so he’s not technically underage, but still!

So why was he drinking? You’d heard there was some kind of big get-together (Nanami was there, after all), but Satoru wasn’t a social drinker or anything. It was some kind of celebration after finals being over or whatever. Still, the Satoru you knew never drank.

Then you get a text from him, begging you to pick him up from the bar. Why? You’re a college student, you don’t have a car! He can text you, but he can’t get a taxi? He can’t be that wasted.

And you know it’s from him because only Satoru would beg for help while also making it sound like it was an honor for you to help him. Ugh.

The worst part is, even when he’s tipsy and stumbling, he’s well over six damn feet tall and easily sends you stumbling whenever his steps waver. One arm wrapped around you like you’re some kind of living crutch.

“Awh~ Came to pick me up? You really do like me, huh?” He crows, like he hadn’t pleaded with you over text. He smells like fruity vodka and – someone else. Must be an alpha he hung out with at the party.

“Someone has to.” You grumble as you deposit him into the car seat, shoving at his shoulder when he doesn’t move over right away.

He pats on his lap, head tilted back, eyes dreamy and half-lidded as he giggles. Three times, before you scoff, slam the door, and go around the other side to sit next to him. Dumbass.

The ride to the dorm is less annoying than you thought it would be, mainly because Satoru… isn’t actually that drunk at all?

Just tipsy enough to tease you to sit on his lap, apparently.

“Come ooooon! We never cuddle anymore!”

“We haven’t cuddled since we were nine, and you said I had cooties.” It was pretty normal, of course, but it had hurt at the time.

“It’s been over ten years, won’t you forgive me?” He complains, “What, you don’t love me anymore?”

“I’d love to smack you,” You mutter to yourself.

Satoru must overhear you wrong, because he wiggles happily in his seat, reaching out to pull you against him. You let him sit like that for the ride as he rambles on about his night.

It’s cute. You’re a huge homebody – Satoru knows that – but it sounds like he had fun, connected with some old friends. Shoko, Nanami, and Haibara – names you haven’t heard in ages.

By the time you get to the dorms, you’re chatting animatedly about Nanami’s choice of major and whether or not it suited him (You really can’t believe he just went into Accounting like that. Why wouldn’t he go for Literature? He loved the book club you were both in! Satoru insists he was only doing it to get girls, though).

He starts clinging to you again in that weird way (he is totally not drunk enough to need it), where he rests some weight on you but not too much, at an awkward angle since he’s so stupidly tall.

It’s just enough for you to stagger with him to his dorm room, shoving the door open while he snickers at your fumbling – “Thanks for the help, Satoru.” “You’re welcome! Aren’t I just the best?” – like some prince on his throne.

You shove him in, utterly impatient, and groan when his hand finds your arm and pulls you in with him.

Satoru spins around once like the pretty princess he is, laughing to himself, smelling like ozone again as the arousal hits your senses. But he must not notice the surprise on your face, because he reaches out a hand towards you, beckoning while you back towards his bed.

Maybe he is more drunk than you thought, if he was this turned on –

Wait. Wait wait wait wait wait wait. WAIT!

Your mind is racing ahead, thoughts flooding your synapses, eyes wide as you inhale again and detect the same thing.

The scarf. It’s there, in the corner of your eye.

It doesn’t smell like you anymore. It’s crumpled up in a corner, unmistakably dirtied.

He jerked off on it. He totally fucking jerked off on it. The scarf is literally crusted with his cum. THE FUCK???

It wouldn’t have been weird, just gross, but this isn’t Satoru’s scarf and Satoru knew that. There was no way he’d missed that it smelled like you! It might have even smelled like you when he was jerking off into it!

Did he – why would he –

If he wanted it to smell like him, why jerk off on it? He could just wear the damn thing! Actually, he had one that already smelled like him! And he gave it to YOU! Why???

The uncomfortable feeling in your chest churns harder.

You’re insane. You must be going completely insane.

The sock. No fucking way. There’s no fucking WAY. That would be so gross. Your insides are churning, hot and roiling with something and you just. There’s no way.

That’s the only explanation, because when you open your mouth, you actually say.

“Gojo did you – did you steal my sock? And my scarf?” Your voice gets higher in pitch, “And then jerk off on them?”

You’re definitely going insane, because the Satoru giggles like a kid caught with his hands in the candy jar. Maybe he really did get totally fucking smashed at the get-together. Maybe he’s been getting smashed these whole past few fucking weeks!

“Haha, yeah! I’m in rut, you can’t blame me,” He whines like he totally expects to be excused of this one little slip-up, like jerking off into an article of clothing that smelled like you was just boys being boys or some crap from high school, “And – hey! Don’t call me Gojo!”

He’s – he’s in rut? Had that been why all this weird shit was happening to you? He was just doing some weird alpha crap, and it was getting to you because you could smell it?

A groan escapes you. “Satoru.” Why does he light up when you say his name like that? Why does your chest feel so fucking – “Go sober up and pass out. I’m going home.”

You need to get out of here, before this shit gets to you any more. Satoru doesn’t know he can affect you with this. It’s never affected you before.

Your face is hot. So, so hot.

“Don’t leave.” The words sound like a whimper, like a wail, so impossibly morose. He’s on his knees already in front of you, pawing at you with both hands, clinging. “Don’t leave. Stay with me.”

Crystal blue eyes gazing up at you, wide and tearful. Cheeks still flushed a little pink. Moonlight from the window filtering over his lovely features. Lust in the air, radiating off him, seeping into you with every breath.

He’s so pretty. Satoru’s always been the most beautiful person you know. He’s in rut, and he wants you to stay, and it shocks you how a thrill runs through you at the thought. Desire molten in your chest, dripping down to your core.

“You’re in rut, and you’re drunk – ”

“Even I’m not drunk off one strawberry daiquiri,” And though you’d like to deny it, if Satoru’s sober enough to snark at you, he’s probably not that drunk. Which means this is all his rut – “And god, I’ve wanted you so fucking long. Rut’s just made it worse.”

The words should feel like they’re shattering you. Like decades of friendship are teetering on the balance, on a tightrope over one stupid night of drinks.

Instead you just feel hotter than ever. Every breath tells you what it had been telling you from the beginning, what you were just too blind to see. Desire. Lust. Want.

“I thought we were just friends,” You say quietly, like it’s some confession.

He stands up so he can cup your face, tilt it so your gaze meets his. “It’s okay if you don’t – if you’re not – you know. If it’s too much right now. I was too pussy to say it for a long time, I just scented you, and hung out with you, and whatever else you’d let me, but…”

“How long? I know you didn’t like me in high school.”

“I fucking loved you in high school, I was just a huge dick. You know that.” Those pretty eyes look down, only for a moment, “Back then, I didn’t want to fuck you. Doesn’t mean I didn’t love you to death. Still do.”

“But you want to – ”

“Yeah, I super wanna fuck you now.” He looks back at you with that stupid pretty face and that stupid charming grin, way more cheerful than it has any business being, “But you know, you’ll always be my best friend, right? My number one. If I need to spend a hundred years convincing you that I’ll be the best boyfriend ever, that’s fine.”

A hundred years? You’d dare him to last a hundred seconds without whining for what he wants like the spoiled brat he is.

But his eyes are so bright, and you can smell how much he wants you. He wants you that much and he says this.

“I’ll be so good,” He purrs, arms wrapping around you and bringing you closer to him, “The best. I’m pretty, you know. And I’m rich. I’ll go out on dates with you all the time, my treat, and kiss you, and hold your hand, and you can wear my clothes, it’ll be so great – ”

Satoru starts stepping backwards, dragging you with him towards the bed as he moves.

You chuckle. “Thought about this a lot, have you?”

“Every minute of every day. Half of it I’ve been doing already.” He reaches the bed and turns you so your back is facing it. Pushes you gently to sit.

Satoru gets on his knees in front of you again, and your heart skips a beat. You’re starting to think it’s a good look on him. But his eyes are wicked, his grin feral, pheromones suffocating you in the next breath before he speaks.

“I know you want me too. Let me eat you out.” He’s already taking off his shirt, like he knows what it does to you when you see him shirtless.

Even in high school, that lean, swimmer’s body had left you flustered. Satoru’s always been like that, so effortlessly perfect looking, so unashamed at being seen. He grins at the feeling of your eyes on him, you think he’s even posing a little bit, the diva.

“Yeah, you like that? ‘Course you do. Best alpha around.” His gaze peeks up at you through lowered white lashes, “I’m something special, aren’t I? It’s all yours, baby. All for you.”

God, he’s so beautiful. You’re so weak for him. That hopeful smile makes your heart tremble. He’s the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen, ethereal with his white hair and shimmering blue eyes and lean, muscled body, and it’s all for you, all yours, baby.

“Satoru…” For a moment, you truly can’t believe this is actually happening.

And then a large, warm hand finds its way into one of yours, threading between your fingers, an easy smile on his lips as he looks up at you. This is him, your best friend. Satoru. Your Satoru.

He nuzzles his head against your legs, digging underneath your pants with impatient fingers, “Say you want me, just say it. I’ll make you feel so good.”

“Why – why are you asking all the sudden?” Your will to resist him is dropping exponentially and you’re pretty sure he knows it. “Why now?”

“Why right now? I’ve been dying for you since my rut began, and finally got myself a dose of liquid courage.” He brings your hand up to his face, kissing over your knuckles. “But if you want to know why I want you… It just happened. Woke up one day wanting you and it never went away.”

“Wanting to fuck me, or wanting to date me?” You’d never thought Satoru would want you. It just seemed so impossible. “I’m a beta, it’s not like I can help your rut.”

Your hand is pressed against the front of his pants, unbearably hot, bulging outward. His fingers trapping your palm against it. It’s like you can feel him pulsing through the fabric. A knot big enough to break you.

There’s a part of you that’s thrilled at the idea, that makes you clench and think I could take it, makes you want to try and shove it inside, but you fantasized enough about Geto and his knot in high school to know. It would be sexy for about three seconds, and then it would just hurt.

Not the good kind of hurt. The kind of hurt that leaves you hyperventilating, snot and tears crying as you panic over the possibility of an embarrassing ER visit, wondering if you’ve actually ripped something down there, it hurts that much.

“It’s all for you, babe, whether or not you want it. It’ll always be for you.” Satoru purrs, leaning close enough that you can feel his breath on your face, “I’d take your hands over any omega’s pussy any day. Fuck, please, just spit on it, I could cum from that, you know?”

You giggle, bewildered and unreasonably turned on. “You sure you’re not still that stupid horny alpha boy from high school?”

Satoru leans forward so his chin rests on the edge of the bed, looking up at you from between your legs. You become explicitly aware of the wetness growing against your panties.

“Nope. Stupid horny high school me didn’t know shit. This is your modern Satoru Gojo, older and wiser and better than ever.” His eyes sparkle at you. Hand squeezing yours. “Let me? Please, please, let me?”

“Yeah,” the word leaves you like a sigh, from you and from Satoru, “You talk a big game, Satoru. Just try and make me cum.”

You don’t know why you make it out to be a challenge. It’s not easy to make you cum, but it’s not this impossible task either. He’s a clever boy, he can figure it out.

Step one he’s clearly got down perfectly, tugging your pants and panties down in a move so fast it tugs into your knees. You don’t have time to move for him before he lifts your legs for you, dragging your clothes entirely off in one swift, merciless movement.

Oh. You are wet. Your face heats up, and it doesn’t get better because then he grabs your thighs and tugs them apart, spreading you and pulling you closer to the edge of the bed, where his face is.

“Okay baby,” He whispers against your cunt, breath hot against you, “One last time. Show me how you touch yourself, show me what you like.”

One last time?

God, you should have known this idiot would need pointers. Even if it was a perfectly reasonable ask.

“Sure, since you need it so much.” You mutter, mostly at the heat on your cheeks, the wiggling feeling in your chest at the way his eyes roam over you, following your hand down between your legs.

Something hot and slimy meets your fingers as soon as they get close, and you nearly yelp –

“Just helping,” Satoru’s got that awful self-satisfied look on his face, and he licks your fingers again, like he wants to suck on them, “Get you nice and wet, first, should never go in dry baby.”

At least he had that much sense. It’s hampered by the fact that he’s talking to you like he knows shit.

“Excuse me, this is still my pussy,” Covering your mortification at touching yourself to an audience with words, you dip your fingers into your entrance just to wet them up some more.

“Not for long,” He grumbles. What? “Just show me how you like it.”

“I’m trying!” You press against your clit from the side, rubbing against it indirectly, leaning into the sensation until you feel pleasure pooling from each press. “No thanks to… the peanut gallery over here.”

Satoru does shut up for a moment, and you try not to think about how it’s because he’s staring intently at your sex, like he’s about to take notes on it or some shit.

Fuck, fuck, he’s so stupidly pretty. You can feel yourself getting wetter at the thought of those beautiful eyes on you. Curse your terrible fucking taste.

You focus on the presses, speeding them up just enough to not be too much, increasing how far you press in, just a little more, moving your hips to nudge yourself into it –

“Okay, enough.” A larger hand snatches your wrist, pulling it away. Your huff is nothing short of indignant and half-disbelieving. But then again, what had you been expecting? “I got it. No more touching yourself.”

The way he says it, blue eyes darkening, sounds a little more serious than it should. Voice a little lower. Scent dusting the air with something powerful, authoritative, distinctly alpha.

He doesn’t mean…

The thought is interrupted by the sensation of his mouth, warm and wide and open against you, so sudden that you cry out with the heat of it. Wet and welcoming.

His hair threads through your hands. It’s soft, so soft. Like feather down, fluttering at your fingertips. In the pale light pouring through the dorm window it shines like starlight. Something heavenly and pure and right there for you to hold.

Even when your hands fist in it, Satoru just moans, rumbling against your cunt as he lapped against it, drawing you dangerously close to the edge.

Those lips, those pretty, pouty lips, pressing tight against your clit while his tongue works over you. Smooth muscle laving over slick flesh, slipping through your folds.

A naughty dip into your entrance that makes you squeak, just exploring. Tracing along the edge, darting in to sample.

When he pulls away, mouth sinfully wet and shiny with strings of arousal, Satoru meets your eyes directly, deliberately. You watch him raise his two index fingers to his lips, open that awful, sultry mouth, and stick them both in.

The way he does it, tongue hanging out and pooling saliva, then laving it over his fingers, you almost expect him to start moaning like a pornstar.

He’s too dumb to do that, though, and instead closes his mouth around his fingers, sucking on them, and pulling them out with an exaggerated pop!

Yeah, that’s your Satoru. Dumbass. You’re horny and amused, and a little bit mad at yourself for it, too.

He catches it when you roll your eyes at him, and sneaks his warm, wet fingertips right up into your entrance while he latches his mouth onto your clit.

The fingers slide in almost too easily, but his are long. It doesn’t take him long to start curling them, dragging them along your walls inside until that, combined with his suckling at your clit, has you whimpering breathlessly, grasping his hair for dear life – it only makes him moan more, and that only makes sparks of pleasure dance up your already tight, throbbing core.

And it’s annoying, so annoying and so hot and unbearably fucking sexy how he looks up at you right when you’re at the edge, like he knows.

Free hand tightening on your thigh like he’s got to keep you from running away from him, pressing his tongue into your clit.

Rubbing it tightly like he fucking knows exactly how hard it sends you spiraling, panting and wide-eyed as you stare down at the beautiful man eating you out like you’re his last meal ever.

You can barely breathe for the way it takes you, hard and fast, flooding you all at once. Blood soaring with every heartbeat, pressure unfurled into ecstatic currents that ripple out from your core, through your whole body.

Satoru suckles on your clit gently, somehow in perfect time with the waves of pleasure that rush over you, making each one crest just a little bit higher than it should.

He never takes his eyes away from yours. He stays like that, softening, letting up as your climax abates and your clit starts to tingle, oversensitive.

Of course, when he pulls away, he looks invariably pleased with himself. You’re not going to say this out loud (regrettably, it looks like he knows anyways, somehow, he just knows this shit about you) but he absolutely should be.

It was a rush that went through your whole body. You felt like you were flying, breezing freely through the air with Satoru keeping you light.

“What, you want a medal?” It doesn’t have much bite to it with your voice all low and breathy and sated. Satoru just grins.

You move to lay back, but Satoru catches you, straddling you on his knees so he’s not sitting on you, pulling you forward against him. The bulge at the front of his pants rubbing up against your abdomen.

“If you’re offering a reward for my skills, I know just the thing~” Satoru sings.

Utterly cheeky of him, to spring this on you while you’re still in the afterglow. “Satoru...”

"Can I put it in? Please please let me put it on, I promise I'll be so good – "

You smack him upside the head, even though his whimper makes you feel both guilty and horny. Extremely horny, actually. He looks really cute, pouting like that, lips pursed like you really hurt him oh so bad. Like a dog that’s been scolded for something it doesn’t understand.

And maybe he is, with the rut in his brain. Stupid and horny and helpless to refuse you because of it, filled with nothing but the need to please you – every thought flowing through your head starts trickling between your thighs.

"No fucking way Satoru, you know I'm not built for that."

Then he whines, wide eyes looking up at you pleadingly, and you actually feel yourself dripping, clenching, ready for him again when you just came moments ago. Cunt aching for the warmth of him.

God, leave it to Satoru to turn you on so much your dumb ass is willing to even entertain the idea of knot training. He’s in rut. You’re just horny and too dumb to have learned your lesson about pining for alphas in high school.

"Not this time. I need practice." You feel yourself flushing even though it's your own suggestion.

He grins, all teeth and hunger. Eyes bright with something that makes your heart flutter.

"Not this time,” he agrees, “I'll train you. Stretch you nice and slow. Over and over and over again until you can take it without hurting. I’ll train you until you are made for it, made for me, won’t put it in until you’re begging. My omega.”

When did you say he would be training you? And why do his words send liquid fire running through your core?

“Not an omega, Satoru.”

“You’ll be mine.” Triumph laces his voice, “I’ll treat you so nice, I’ll make you feel so good, you’ll never want any knot but mine.”

Now he’s just going full alpha brain, “I didn’t want any knots in the first place!”

“You’ll want mine.” He says it with an utter confidence only Satoru Gojo can possess, “You’ll love it. I’ll make you love it. I’ll be so good for you, I’ll be the best alpha, you’ll never have to make yourself cum again.”

And god, good god, how can he go from puppy dog eyes to proud alpha crowing in the blink of an eye? You just told him you didn’t want his knot! And you only half meant it! God!

“We’ll see about that,” Grumpy, flushed, that’s all you manage, and you’re not even that upset about it.

He rubs up against you like a cat, purring, “I’ll make it good for you, baby, I’ll take care of you.”

Then you should take care of him, this time.

“Go get your toy, Satoru.” You tell him like you’re telling a dog to go fetch.

And he does, all eager and grinning as he darts towards a shelf, tugging a toy out of the drawer. It’s literally huge, enough that you might not be able to encircle it with two hands.

“Not as good as you,” He whines as he grabs the lube. You roll your eyes because he’s had none of you yet, “Wouldn’t be as good as you, any of you. You’ll use it on me yourself, at least, right?”

“Yeah, I’m using it on you, dumbass,” You fix him with a look, and he holds your gaze with a pout, “And get used to the idea.” God, you’re flushed again, this is all just so… eugh. “…Cause… you know. We’ll have to go through a lot of knot toys with me, so…”

There’s a spring in his step all the sudden, thrilled at the thought. Brightening as soon as you say “Yeah” – God, was Satoru always this easy?

He lays the toy on your lap like he really is a dog going to fetch, the awful terrible idea you were thinking of comes into shape.

It’s so embarrassing, just the thought makes you feel so… presumptuous, like you’re assuming so much about something you barely understand.

But he wants you. He said he wants you. So you do it.

Flushed, reaching between your legs (the audacity of him to whine and try to tug your hand away), you gather up your own slick and cum and other fluids, cupping them in your fingers.

Satoru’s eyes dilate, face blank with his staggered breath, as he watches you smear it all over the toy, particularly at the entrance. You squirt in a portion of the lubricant, too, reaching in and spreading it with your other hand. This should feel gross. This is super gross.

You’re so fucking wet. You could put even more on it. But something tells you Satoru would prefer that elsewhere.

“Come on, then. You bragged about it so much.” You look at him, eyes half-lidded, lips curled upwards as you loom over the fleshlight. “Show me the goods, alpha.”

With a fast breath he nearly rips his pants and boxers off, cock springing free of its confines and – oh. Oh. Yeah, you were definitely not getting that inside you tonight, not in any universe. But the thought of it makes your thighs clench reflexively.

It’s a pretty cock, too. All red and flushed, dripping and swollen at the tip. Long, unreasonably so, even with the heavy knot at the base. And this is before it’s expanded.

No wonder the toy’s so big.

You scoot back on the bed, legs spread wide, and you pat between them. Satoru’s taller than you, bigger than you, and you quickly realize this isn’t going to work with you sitting behind him, even if he wriggles happily when his chest presses to your back.

(You file this information to use against him one day, though. Satoru would probably melt if you let him be the little spoon.)

Spinning, you move so that you’re straddling his lap. Satoru seamlessly scoots back, giving you enough space to rest yourself on his thighs and trap his cock between the two of you.

You look at his (unfairly pretty) face. Back down at his dick. At his face again, where he’s smiling an awful, conspiratory sort of smile. All but vibrating with excitement.

When you spit on his dick he moans like he nearly is going to cum, and your cunt clenches at the sound. He wasn’t joking, was he?

Your hand darts down between your legs, and Satoru’s eyes darken at the sight, growling. The same hand quickly wraps around his cock, slick with your arousal. Satoru gives a shuddering gasp at the sensation, hips jerking into it. Everything he does has you getting wetter, it’s effortless for him.

And he knows it, too, smells it, because even while he’s catching his breath he gives you that terrible charming smirk that has you burning in the pit of your stomach. So annoying. Your hand tightens and he makes the most pitiful whimper.

You’re hit with the sudden and very real desire to take a bite out of him.

Pretty boy. Pretty boy, all for you, naked and bare in front of you, aching and whining for you to do with him as you please. You think you even see him drooling a little.

You take his lips instead, face tilted upwards as you press your mouth into his, like you can drink him up if you stick your tongue far enough into his mouth.

He’s sweet, because of course he is. A little strawberry, the faintest touch of alcohol.

Your teeth close on his lips, tender, soft, yielding. It’s so easy just to clench down, hard, while your hand pumps his cock some more, and it throbs, violently, as the taste of blood fills your mouth. He moans into it, tongue sliding, dancing against yours like he wants to lick you up.

He’s panting, still, when you pull away. Lips red and swollen and bleeding.

Satoru grins at you, bent over, eyes glittering. Wiping blood from the corner of his lovely mouth.

 It’s not enough to bite him. You want to devour him whole. You want him to be yours. You want to see him cum.

“Say my name.”

You hear it.

You fit the toy on top of him, and his hands dart towards you, grasp you with deceptive firmness, like you’re all that can anchor him. His nostrils flare as he slides into the toy lubed up with your own fluids, taking in the scent of you.

He’s probably smelling how wet you are. You slam it down, all the way to the knot, to wipe that stupid smirk on his face.

It works. Now his eyes are wide with shock, mouth gaping open, a noise like a squeak emerging from him as he squeezes his eyes tight, hips squirming uselessly to fit more of himself in.

Delight, wicked and thrilling, lances through your chest at the sight of him. Face flushed, eyes squeezing as he fights to keep them from closing, lips in a wide “O” like some kind of pornstar. God, he’s just too fucking hot.

Without thinking you bring your other hand to his lips, and Satoru closes his mouth around your wet fingers and moans. His half-shut eyes flutter at you, like he’s trying to tease you. Tongue threading between your fingers, cheeks going hollow as he sucks them clean.

His hips thrust up, eager, and he whimpers again. “Say it again.”

Your name, again, warbled around the fingers in his mouth as you twist the toy around him. You press it against his knot just for a moment.

“This is for me, you said?” You pull your fingers away, pull the toy up, and he whines at the absence, like the drama king he is, “You’re hard just for me? A beta?”

When he opens that unthinkably sexy, sultry mouth of his, you slam it back down again. It hits his knot and you bear down, “Ah – hahhh – ahhh~”, and god, your heart is racing and he’s only halfway in.

“Fuck,” He sobs, “Fuck, yes, please – ”

It’s hard to pull it up after that, his knot swelling and throbbing and Satoru squirming like some kind of desperate whore. Clawing at your shoulders as you pull the toy up again.

He keens when your hands leave him, only to brighten visibly as you tug your shirt and bra off. Oh, he’s lost all coherence but he can still cheerfully ogle you, huh?

One of his hands reaches for your breast, mindlessly squeezing. It’s so large he can hold it in his entire hand, and you watch his eyes dilate as he tries to buck up for more stimulation.

You reach back, pumping him again, and you keep pressing it down against his knot, shoving it a little further each time. His words are senseless, mumbles and mutterings, and his eyes don’t leave your body for a moment, like he’s drinking you in.

When you reach the widest part of his knot he actively wails, seizing you at the waist and digging his nails into you, and it burns like hot lines of pleasure over your skin. He’s shuddering now, all lean muscle and powerful form turned to a shivering mess before you, for you.

“Just a little more,” You breathe, “Almost there, baby. You’re gorgeous, so fucking beautiful,” a heavy SHOVE and Satoru cries out as his knot finally slips in.

The breath he lets out is pure relief and yearning tied in one. It’s harder to push down now with him lodged in it. His hands loosen around you, gaze going unfocused, and he mumbles something you can’t quite make out. His hands paw at you, like a blind man groping in the dark.

He’s really, really pretty like this. Needy, teary-eyed, desperate like a dog.

While you work the toy in short strokes, your other hand reaches up to his well sculpted chest, to the supple flesh of his pecs where you dig your nails into, just to hear him whine. To watch a streak of red mark where you draw your nails across him.

When you scratch across his nipple he whimpers again, hips shuddering so much it’s hard to keep the toy on him. His face flushes even harder, eyes trembling, grasping at you with quivering hands.

His abs, perfect like the rest of him, tighten, clenching up. His thighs clench up, too, and you see him actually thrust up into the toy, eyes wild with need. Satoru finally gets a grip on you, and he leans in, too, shoving his face into your neck.

It takes you a moment, pumping to toy to make sure he doesn’t lose his peak, for you to realize he’s smelling you. Taking long, deep breaths of your scent, shuddering like a man who’s found his paradise.

You lean your head to the side, just a little, just to meet his eyes. He looks up at you, he smells you; enraptured, delighted, desperately aroused by the sight of him.

“Say my name,” You beg him, “Satoru, say my – ”

He cums with a cry of it, a wail, and you realize what he’d been mumbling before. Shaking in your arms.

There’s something feral in your chest, something about him in this state that drives you absolutely mad. You keep pumping the toy, even just a little bit, hard friction against his swollen knot, the cum that must be hot and packed against him now.

He wheezes, delirious, and you think for a moment he sounds like a dog toy. You think you want to make him your dog toy. Squeaking while you squeeze him, with your hands, your mouth, your cunt.

He’s too pretty like this, too perfect. All yours, he’d said, and now he’s crying on your shoulders, shuddering with the strength of his climax.

“My alpha,” You coo, breathless, “Only for me.”

Satoru nods dumbly, pretty lips wedged apart, eyes bleary. Pressing a kiss to your neck, licking mindlessly at it. His skin is hot, like all the rest of him, flushed from his release.

You want to give him more. You want to mess him up. You want to fuck him up, take a bite out of him for everyone so everyone sees a piece missing, a piece that belongs only to you. You want to see him cry.

So you pull away to get a better look, but he clings to you. When you push him it feels like trying to tear your own heart out, so you let him kiss and suck against you until he’s kissing up to your lips.

Pretty white lashes fluttering while he nips at your lips, gentle as a kitten with tearstained cheeks.

Then he pulls back on his own and grins at you, so cocky you forget he cried at all.

The toy can’t come off him, locked where it is until the knot goes down, but that doesn’t seem to stop him in the slightest.

“I can smell you,” He pants, “I can smell it. You’re ready for me? Got so turned on by fucking me with that toy, huh?”

There’s heat in his eyes, a wicked smile tracing at his lips, but you meet his gaze with your own fire. “So turned on. You looked so pathetic and pretty, whining and bucking into that toy like a desperate whore. If you’d moaned any sluttier, Satoru, I would have creamed my panties.”

His laugh is almost a howl, “Hahaha! Yeah! Just for you, baby.” He leans in to steal a kiss, “A slut for you. Let me show you just how slutty I can be, I can fuck you so so good baby.”

Your laugh is cut off by his fingers prodding at your mouth, “Spare some spit for your slut, yeah?”

The look you give him, like you’re telling him off while trying not to laugh, sends a shudder of emotion through him that you can’t identify.

You use the moment to open your mouth wide, letting your tongue loll out. Transfixed blue eyes follow your tongue dragging up his fingertips, how you drool on them, moving down and then drawing it up again to wet them.

Satoru makes a little noise and twitches and you know the toy has just milked another little squirt of cum out of him. Maybe knots are kinda cute.

And then he looks back into your eyes. Quick as a whip, closes his mouth around your fingertips, rolling his eyes back with an exaggerated moan, and he’s so fucking stupid and you’re so turned on you actually feel yourself throbbing. Your hands dart down to feel it.

Well, you’d known you were wet, but this was just embarrassing. Worse, since he could smell it.

 “I’ve got you. Let me have you, I’ve got you. Leave it to your alpha.”

“Really big words from a guy who was crying when I pumped him with a fleshlight.”

Satoru doesn’t balk, he only grins. With teeth. “You bet I did, baby. Fucked me so good,” he purrs, rubbing up against you again, moving you so you’re sitting on the bed once more, “And I got you all hot and bothered, didn’t I? So let me take care of that for you.”

God, he really knows no shame at all. No wonder he didn’t bother to smother his moans. He knew what they did to you. He always knew what he did to you.

Except, you suppose, with the pheromones that are telling you right now to lie down and let him eat you into oblivion.

Your fingers draw up to your clit, gently pulsing again at the hungry look he’s giving you.

He bats your hands away from your cunt, “I told you I’d take care of you. Spoil you so good. You’ll never touch what’s mine again.”

“What’s yours?”

“You are, baby, all of you. Shouldn’t touch my cunt unless I say you can, that’s my job. Don’t tell me you think I can’t make you feel good?” His eyes sparkle in challenge, teeth bared in a grin.

That’s like, an under-negotiated kink or something. He totally doesn’t own you. He definitely can’t tell you not to touch yourself.

God, it’s such a fucking turn on. Every word has your cunt throbbing harder. It’s probably just dirty talk. Right?

“What,” You drawl, but your breaths are getting shorter as his fingers find their way inside you again, “Can you take responsibility for that, huh, Satoru?”

“I’ve never wanted to take responsibility for anything more in my life.” His fingers delve deeper, thumb rubbing over your clit.

You choke out a laugh, legs quivering. “Not a high bar.”

“It’s okay,” He steals another kiss before he falls off the bed and onto his knees again for you, “I told you, I can do it. You don’t need to touch yourself ever again. I’ll do it all. You shouldn’t have to rely on anyone but your alpha.”

“Ah,” Fuck, you really can’t speak at all, but – but every word is turning you on more, pulsing, pulsing, blood flowing down to the throbbing mess between your legs, “Ah – f-fuck! You don’t mean that, Satoru.”

Another breath, and then you continue, “What, are you really going to drop everything just to – to get between my legs – whenever I want to cum?”

Satoru groans like a broken man. “Please.”

His thumb is replaced on your clit with his tongue, just the right heat and slickness you were craving. Every lap sends your tender nerve endings throbbing. Thighs shaking. Close now.

“If I – if I ever want to touch myself, I just call you, you’ll come racing? Make use of that pretty face – hng, whenever I want? If I ever want to shut you up, I just sneak my hands beneath my panties – ”

The sound that comes from him sounds like it could be a sob, his hands wrap around your legs, seizing them in place as he abandons everything that’s not sucking your soul out through your clit, and fuck, fuck, how is he so perfect at this –

It comes, knocking the breath out of you, leaving you gasping. The heavy tug between your legs finally overwhelming your senses until everything just feels so good.

You reach out, groping numbly until you feel his soft hair in your hands, no strength left to squeeze.

Heat rocks through you, racing up your spine, swelling and swelling until you’re just warm everywhere, limbs tingling with a pleasant, blissful sort of numbness.

A hand settles over yours, large, heavy, and unbearably tender.

Every breath is orgasmic on its own, air flowing through you, heat radiating outwards until you feel it dissipate away gently.

Satoru’s moved you, slid you to lay on the bed while he sits over you. You don’t know when he did that, didn’t feel it.

It doesn’t matter. His hand threads through yours, and you watch him raise it up to kiss it again, lashes fluttering, lips still wet with your cum. There’s this look on his face, reverent and desperate, like he still can’t believe he’s gotten this lucky.

Finally, you see the toy slipping off, and with it, a gush of cum, sticky and trailing from his wet, stinging cock. He hisses at the exposure to open air. You’d honestly just tell him to put it in you if you weren’t worried he’d knot you in his sleep.  

Satoru settles beside you, arms wrapped around your form, face buried in your neck.

“Love you.” You feel it more than you hear it, mouthed against your neck, “Love you so much.” A drop of wetness on your throat. “Love you, love you, love you… never leave me, please, never… love you so much.”

His fangs glance over your throat, where no mark they leave will ever stick.

Your heart spills out of your chest a little, through your mouth.

“I love you, Satoru,” You murmur, “I’m a beta, I can’t give you what an omega can, I…” Old wounds, all healed over and aching. “But I’ll give you what I can. If you want it.”

Arms squeezing you. His teeth turn into a kiss, up, up, up your jawline until he’s face to face with you.

“I want it,” He says, eyes shimmering as he leans in to claim your lips. “I’ll always want it. Always you.”

-

Hours ago

“So are you guy still friends?” Suguru asks, sipping his beer, “You were such a bitch about them in high school. I almost thought you wanted to date them, but with them being a beta and all…”

Satoru groans. “Don’t remind me. I mean, I get how I was in high school, but they liked you, didn’t they? So they’re definitely into alphas.”

“They were. Maybe we permanently turned them off,” he snickers, drawing another groan from Satoru, “What changed, anyways? Why do you want to get with them now?”

“I dunno, man.” Gojo sips at his drink. “It was like one day I was walking them to campus, and they were showing me this picture of a white cat with blue eyes. And they were smiling while they said It’s you, Satoru! and I was about to tell them to shut up but my chest just… exploded.”

“No way. That’s what got to you?” A smile plays on Suguru’s lips, “Do you still have the picture?”

 “Shut uuuup. Anyways, I thought about it later and I thought, I want to walk with them every morning for the rest of my life. I want to never go a day without talking to them, or hanging out with them. Want to crawl in their silly little beta brain and live there rent free for the rest of my days.”

Satoru never paid rent to live in anyone’s head, and he lived in everyone’s. “Who’s to say you don’t already?”

“Not like I want to. I want them to think about me all the time, like I think about them. I want them to feel like they’ll die if they don’t see me every day."

His eyes shine with something dark and blue. "I want them to be all mine and no one else’s. I want them to think of me whenever they want something, come to me for everything.”

It’s as good as a love confession, coming from an alpha. Satoru doesn’t have to say it – Suguru knows what it means.

“So… have you told them?”

He startles when Satoru bangs his head on the table. “I wish! It’s like there’s nothing I can do to get them to look at me!”

"So... you haven't said anything, and you're just complaining that they aren't throwing themselves into your arms?"

"Exactly!" Satoru huffs, "I can tell I've gotten to them a little recently, too! We spend like, every waking moment together, and they let me. Why won't they just ask me out already? It's been months, I don't want to spend another rut alone!"

That actually is impressive, coming from Satoru. Back in high school, he would never spend his rut alone, until he and Suguru got close.

Suguru’s chuckle is nothing short of sinister, “God, you’re such a whiny bitch. Can’t believe you didn’t present as an omega.”

“Oh, fuck off.” He snarls, taking another swig of his fruity cocktail. Suguru wonders idly if he knows how much alcohol is in that.

“Sometimes I honestly thought you liked them back in high school, you were so damn clingy all the time. Total omega behavior. I would scent them for five seconds and you’d throw a total fit.”

The glare, the sudden sharp spike of angry alpha pheromones catches Suguru off guard. “You didn’t mean it, though! They had feelings for you and you knew it, and you didn’t like them back! You think I’m just gonna let you fuck around with my friend like that?”

“Hey, hey,” He shakes his head, like that can get the scent out of his nose. “I would’ve dated them, you know, treated them nice. They were cool, I would have given it a shot with them even if they were a beta. But they were so worried about your feelings, they couldn’t even confess.”

“Would’ve, should’ve, could’ve,” Satoru mumbles into his fruity drink, slumping forwards. “They would always side with you in arguments, too.”

“That was because you were an idiot. Godzilla couldn’t take on an Evangelion in a fight and you know it.”

“Dude, the cable! Literally all he’d have to do is cut the cable! I said this a million times! They were crushing on you, that’s why they said you were right.” His nose crinkles in that unbearably cute way. “The fuck was so great about you anyways? I’m way prettier.”

That makes Suguru laugh out loud. Satoru would know. “I honestly couldn’t tell you, Satoru. You’re pretty even when you sulk.”

“Shut up, asshole. You didn’t deserve them, anyways.”

“Yeah,” He sighs, “I guess I didn’t. You didn’t, either, in case you were wondering.”

“Didn’t fuckin’ ask.” Satoru sounds so pouty that he laughs again.

He gives Satoru’s shoulder a good-hearted slap, drawing out a growl from his friend. “We were a pair of fucking jerks back then, you know that. They should’ve ditched our dumb asses the week we presented.”

“You were a jerk. I never led them on, and it’s not like they noticed the scenting!”

“Heh. God, we got away with so much shit because they were a beta and didn’t know what was going on. Got into a pissing contest over a beta we didn’t even want to fuck.” Suguru sighs with a smile, leaning an arm on the bar. “I guess they were just that good of a friend, huh.”

Satoru bites his lip, resting his face on his crossed arms, laid over the table. “Yeah. The best. The one person I never wanted to lose, no matter what. I was so pissed off that you were stealing their attention when you didn’t even like them back.”

“Yeah. I know why you didn’t follow me when I left.”

Satoru snorts. “Don’t sound so morose. I was upfront with my plans from the beginning, you were the one who chose another path.”

“I thought we were friends, though?” A smile plays over Suguru’s lips. Nostalgic.

“So did they. You ditched them, too.” He glares at Suguru out of the corner of his eyes. “Sure, they were too cowardly to confess to you, but you could’ve said something. You never even told them you could smell it when you turned them on.”

“Ha! Neither did you.”

“Why the fuck would I? That shit pissed me off. You’re not that hot.”

Suguru grins at him, “I’m not? You know, I can smell it when you get hard, too – ”

“Oh, fuck off!”

“If it wasn’t for me, then it must have been for them.”

Surugu knows damn well how many times Satoru got a boner because of him. It gets Satoru all cute and irritable.

“Go fuck yourself, Suguru. You can change the subject all you want, but you still ditched both of us. You think I should’ve ditched them along with you?”

He looks down, at his almost-empty beer. “You think they wouldn’t have followed you, if you followed me?”

Neither of them says anything for a moment. Satoru takes one last drinkof his fruity cocktail. His cheeks are flushed a faint pink; painfully attractive, even now. Prettiest alpha he’d ever seen.

He can’t even deny you deserve an alpha like him.

Beautiful, confident, loyal Satoru, who adored Suguru all throughout high school, but wouldn’t leave you for him.

Satoru who cared way more about protecting your feelings than acting on his own. You who cared more about Satoru’s feelings than your crush.

That’s not the kind of friendship you can get just by being similar, by understanding each other. It’s something you raise by hand. Feed it, shelter it, tolerate it when it throws a fit. Learn with it, grow with it, care for it even when it’s shitty. There’s married couples who don’t try that hard.

If friendship is love, then you and Satoru had been in love for years, and Suguru was just the best friend.

“I texted them.” Satoru blurted out. “They’re picking me up tonight.”

“Oh?” Suguru gives him a sly glance. “You telling me after all these years, you’re finally going to shoot your damn shot?”

A scoff. “Nah. I mean – I told you. I really didn’t have that sort of feeling for them back then.”

“Oh, I know.” He rolls his eyes, “But I figured it was going to end like this when you didn’t follow me. If you weren’t willing to leave them for me, then who would you leave them for?”

“Cut the shit, Suguru. If you love someone you don’t make them choose. Whatever you felt for me, your plans for the future were more important than that.”

Suguru stares at his hands. “Why do you think I didn’t ask you?”

Satoru looks away.

They both know why he didn’t ask.

“Still… you’re not going to shoot your shot?”

The blush on Satoru’s cheeks seems a little redder.

His heart aches, because once upon a time, that look was for him. Little stolen moments in locker rooms or during movie nights. A ghost of a heart that was once his.

“I dunno, man. They’re a beta, and I think our bullshit from high school still has them kinda fucked up. Like, they probably think I’m only into omegas.”

Suguru snickers. “You gotta admit, it’s pretty fucking funny. You’ve crushed on everyone except omegas.”

“It’s not like that! You and them just happened to be an alpha and a beta!” Satoru’s words are impassioned – like they get when he’s tipsy, “I just – I just liked you. And now I just like them. Doesn’t matter what they are.”

Three years later, he finally has a confession. It’s a liked rather than like, but at least he’s got the words out of Satoru’s mouth.

You’ll get more than that, he knows. Satoru would move heaven and earth for you.

You’ll get a confession and more, a lot more than a few stolen kisses or heavy petting session here and there, as soon as Satoru’s finished being a huge pussy.

Suguru gets up, glancing at his friend slumped over the counter. Satoru is too busy groaning to see the wistful look on his face, but he does hear his parting words.

“Good luck, Satoru.”

-

You settle into his arms. Warm, fuzzy, sated. Satoru wraps his arms and legs around you like some kind of koala.

He nestles your head under his chin, pulling you tight against him so you can feel his purrs rumbling against you, light and soothing.

The air is full of contentment, the scent of an alpha pleased and purring, every breath warming you down to the bones – even if his body pressed against you does a good enough job of that.

“Mmm…” It’s hard to think, hard to form any words when all you want to do is relax into blissful slumber, “Satoru?”

Your answer is a squeeze, a moment of tightness that leaves you breathless, just for a little instant. No ability to move at all, and even less will to. You’d laugh, if you had the breath for it.

Instead, you hum, “You smell good.”

He purrs harder at that, happy pheromones, a compliment any alpha would be pleased with. Breathing deeply against you, like he wants to take you directly into his bloodstream.

And then, for a moment, he pauses.

“Oh… Hey,” Satoru asks lazily as he snuggles into you, “How did you know about the scarf and the sock?”

He’s going to remind you of how gross and needy he was while you’re all sticky and tired and stuck in bed with you? Typical Satoru.

“Mmmh.” It’s hard to talk, warm and cozy as you are, all nestled against him, “You reek. Probably because of your rut, too… could smell your cum a mile away.”

He hums in acceptance, and settles against you, ready to doze off.

For a moment, he’s silent, leaving the both of you to drift peacefully –

“EEEEHHH??”

[jarofstyles]

Flower 3

Hi my loves! I am so excited to give you guys an update on our flower petals. Don’t kick my ass for the ending xoxox

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WC- 5.3k

Warnings - talk of kink, mega sexual tension, daddy kink if you squint really hard hehe

Her head was still dizzy even after sitting in the front seat and letting him out the bags in the back. She did her job as good passenger and placed the coffees in each cup holder, but she was spinning. Her hand still tingling and warm from how he held it through the parking lot like it was common practice, like he was her boyfriend. 

Would he want to be?

He’d already said he didn’t do hook ups. Gia had pointed out that he wasn’t normal around her and Sarah had agreed. Fuck, he just spent over two hundred on her and didn’t bat an eye. Maybe he did, and maybe she was itching to find out what sort of questions he’d want to ask. 

Weirdly, she wanted him to cross lines. He was always so polite and sweet, despite his dirty jokes at times when he was tipsy. With her, he was usually the poster child of a gentleman. He took care of her and did all sort of sweet things to her, leaving no question about if he cared about her or not. . The words he had said on the car ride here about a guy being sweet out in public and a freak in the sheets echoed around her head as he climbed into his seat, making the thoughts start to dissipate. 

“Aren’t you jus’ the best little passenger princess.” He snickered, putting the keys into the ignition. Her eyes tried to ignore the way the little smirk on his face bade her stomach buzz, but it was a hard thing to look past.

“I could have spit in your coffee. You never know.” Her tease was met by him picking up the cup, looking her dead in the eye as he took a sip. Oh. Well then. “You sicko.” 

“Maybe.” He shrugged his seatbelt on after his little display. “But turning the radio on doesn’t mean you are safe from my questions.” 

“I’m not trying to hide from them! I just don’t like awkward silences and I’ve no clue what you’re gonna ask me so I was making sure we weren’t in danger of one.”she sniffed, pointing her nose up a bit. It was a bit of an act considering she was, indeed, trying to hide a little bit. In fact, she was incredible anxious to know what he was wondering about. “Go on and hit me with one.” 

“Alright. When did you start reading those types of books?” 

“Those types.” She scoffed at the phrasing. It was a relatively tame question with a not so savory answer. “Make me sound like it’s something crazy. But the answer is way too young. Probably 14, 15. I checked one out at the library. To be fair, the first time I didn’t realize it had anything like that in it. I just liked the cover and it seemed nice. One BDSM adjacent book and unsupervised internet access search later and I was finding out all sorts of phrases I didn’t need to know.” It was hard to say if she regretted it now, but she did think it was a little early for that. Then again, most guys her age then were doing their own exploring so it wasn’t the worst thing in the world. 

“Hm. Interesting… did you ever get caught with one of them at that age? I’d imagine your parents wouldn’t love that.” No, they most certainly would not. 

“Thank god, no. It would have been mortifying. Now I know that my mother has her own little stash with the shirtless guys and the historical romances though, so it wouldn’t have been like she had a leg to stand on anyways.” That was something she was still thankful for. “Did you ever get caught watching or looking at something?”

From the wince on his face, he absolutely did. “Yeah. It’s just as bad as you think it is. It was my dad, which is only marginally better than it being my mother, but he didn’t seem very phased. I think I was more embarrassed than he was. He never brought it up, but I remembered to lock the door each and every time after that.”

“Oh, that’s rough.” Y/N hissed in sympathy. “My parents worked a lot so it was easy for me to just explore things I shouldn’t have back then. Since you’re older than me, was it online or the magazines?” She was teasing, but he rolled his eyes. 

“Magazine, actually. I’m not that much older.” Five years, but it was enough to make a difference in how they grew up. “Don’t tease me. I see the age gap shit you’re reading.”

“It’s just fun and games.” She assured, brushing her hand over his shoulder playfully. Again, initiating touches. “Besides, I do like an older man so I’m not gonna make too much fun. Considering you did see the books I grabbed.”

He had been very interested in them, it seemed. Interested enough to hover and let her body feel his heat against her back, the burn still there if she let herself think about it too long.

“Yeah, actually I was gonna ask- which one are you the most excited to read?” It was a nice question, middle of the line- but she had a feeling he was trying to gage something.

“Hm. Reaper, that’s the biker club bad boy protecting her from a stalker one, or the Highest bidder. I’ve heard so much about both of them. I know the smut is good in Reaper because I’ve read snippets, but the jury is still out on the second one.”  They had both come highly recommended so she was excited to see if they were going to live up to her expectations. “I do like a good dark romance. It’s kinda hard to explain to people because some things you can enjoy as a fantasy but know in reality it isn’t really ethical, but they won’t get that.”

“I do get it, actually.” He nodded, keeping his eyes on the road. “S’kinda like if you roleplay in bed or something. No one thinks you should actually be in a student professor relationship, but the premise of it is hot. A lot of it is like… power balances, kinda.” 

The ease Harry had of understanding sort of took her off guard. Y/N knew he was intelligent and had spent plenty of time with him to know that was the truth, but a lot of people she knew didn’t quite understand the layers there was to it. 

“Yeah, actually. It is a little similar to roleplay, I hadn’t thought too much about that as a comparison.” Now she definitely would. However… the fact that he had brought it up raised a whole new crop of questions… along with the fact she could see a slight shift in his body when she mentioned it. “Is that something you’re into, then? Roleplaying?” 

Her eyes watched as he tugged on his lip, using his one hand to steer the wheel while the other seemed to be self soothing a little bit. His forearm looked particularly good in this light, the veins standing out slightly as he squeezed over the leather. 

“Mm, outed myself a little with that one didn’t I?”

“A bit.” She giggled, crossing her legs. The question remained on what it was that he liked to roleplay? Was it the teacher thing? Nurse? Doctor? Something more risky? Now that she’d allowed her brain to entertain the not so safe for work thoughts about the man, it was difficult to filter them.

“I do enjoy it, yeah. It’s fun. It doesn’t need to be crazy or anything, but it’s fun to spice things up. I haven’t done a ton of it but it is an interest of mine. I feel like you can explore things with it being safe and being with someone you actually trust, so it’s easier to actually enjoy it.”

The explanation made perfect sense. Partially she was relieved that he seemed so intelligent when it came to sex, considering…. 

“Safety is big. One time a guy decided to choke me but he didn’t know how to properly do it.” She winced at the memory. “Bruised my neck. He felt really bad afterwards but it was obvious he hadn’t done any sort of real research into it and it was never discussed beforehand. Do I think it’s hot? Yeah, but not when it feels like someone’s about to crush my windpipe.” 

“Christ.” Harry sighed, exasperated at the story. It looked like he genuinely was astounded by how bad the guys she had been with had behaved. “I feel like that’s kink 101, innit? You learn how to spank and choke without causing the real damage. Fuck, M’sorry that happened to you. Did it make it hard to enjoy it again?” 

“For a little while, yeah. Like you said before, hookups aren’t really my thing anymore either but when I was more into the scene I made sure they either knew how to do it or didn’t do it at all. Sucks, considering it can make you feel ten times better.” It depended on the person for sure, but for her? The head rush made it so much better when she came. 

“Yeah, I can only imagine. I’ve never really had a horror story like that for me. Anyone I’ve been with knew how to do it and I figured it out early on, but I did have one girl who tore up my back really bad. Not in the sexy way with marks for a few days, but one got infected and it was a whole thing. I like pain, but not something that’s gonna actively harm me later. I don’t think she meant to do it either but sometimes those nails are sharp.” 

Y/N squirmed slightly in her seat as he let out that little bit of information that she clung to. Humidity between her thighs wasn’t exactly something she had planned for today but it seemed like Harry had a manual on how to make her squirm. “First, I’m sorry that happened to you too. I feel like you’ll be able to know you’re doing too much and it shouldn’t ever be tearing up actual skin- unless you’re into that but obviously it wasn’t for you.” She winced, knowing it must have been a bitch to take care of. No one could properly do much for a back thing on their own. The whole reach around thing- a mess. “You can tell me to fuck off this time, but are you into both? The choking, then being choked too?” There was no better way to ask it without being direct, even if it made her feel a little weird to say. 

In the drivers seat, he bit his lip to stifle a grin before sneaking a look at her. “What? You think you’re the only one who should have that sorta fun?” Relieving the restraint, he let himself smile at her before his eyes took the road again. “I do, yeah. Both. It just feels good, doesn’t it? The head rush sort of thing. It’s intimate if you do it right. For either person, it can feel like… I dunno, like you’re theirs and they’re mine in that aspect. If it’s done right, it can be the thing to push you over the edge. Trusting someone with their hand around one of your most vulnerable points, it’s a bit thrilling- intimate.” 

Y/N knew Harry had some experience, knew he would probably be good in bed just in how he handled her in general. He was attentive and sweet, checking in with her, but unafraid to do what he wanted. He’s dragged her into his lap and rested his chin on her shoulder, easy to ask her for a cuddle and to play with her hair- but he’s been respectful about the whole thing. Part of her wishes maybe he’d maybe be a little disrespectful at this point. 

There was no doubt in her mind that Harry knew how to fuck. Just from these conversations alone, she knew he could handle himself. But knowing he was pretty dirty, the knowledge of him liking choking on both fronts, it made her feel hot under her collar. “Mm. Nice to know.” 

The response hadn’t been though through, because there were definitely connotations to that- but she let the words tumble out of her mouth without thinking. Her eyes widened as she looked down at her lap, going to open her mouth to respond something else, but the man beat her to it. As usual. 

“Is it?” He hummed lightly. “I’m glad you find it amusing.” 

“I mean, it is.” She had already dug herself a hole. “I just always thought it would be you doing the choking, I never considered the other way around”. 

“You’ve thought about it before, huh?” The smirk was audible in his voice, making her cheeks burn. God damn it all and her slip ups. Harry made her flustered and nervous rolled into a slightly bold ball of dangerous curiosity. 

There were a few ways she could’ve gone about it. Denial was the biggest one, but she’d already gone this far. Didn’t she want to push past the friendship boundary? The way her throat felt tight with him so close behind her at the bookshop while he asked her about her books, how she’d placed his hand on her inner thigh for him when they were out last night, she wanted to go further past the established boundaries. 

“A few times.” 

Her reply was breezy, though she certainly didn’t feel it. The swirling anticipation was bubbling in her tummy, a fluttering bundle of nerves expanding heat through her body. The atmosphere in the truck had been a little tight before, but it had been slowly morphing into a sexually tense mess. 

“Mmm. Nice to know.” Mirroring her prior response, she chanced a look at him. One hand still on the steering wheel, vein still making an appearance in his forearm making an appearance from the sunlight glazing inside the truck. But this time, his stubbled chin dipped into a dimple, a light smirk coating his lips and he was rubbing his hand over his denim covered thigh. His hands, god his fucking hands. They were sexy, sexier than she knew a man’s hands could be. He worked with them, so sometimes he had a few cuts or bruises on them, but he kept his nails trimmed and they were clean most of the time she saw them. The cross tattoo stuck out against his skin, tucked between his thumb and index finger. 

Impulse control didn’t exist as her finger reached out to trace said ink, running the tip of her nail over the symbol. “I dunno if I ever told you how much I like your tattoos but- I do.” She admitted lightly. “I love tattoos. I’ve always wanted to get some but I’ve been afraid.” 

Harry cleared his throat, stopping at the light to look down at her finger running back and forth on the top of his hand. The nail lightly running over the black ink on his sensitive skin, her eyes taking in the same thing. There was no move to remove his hand, letting it stay still as she continued the hypnotic movement and allowed her eyes to move up to his face. 

“Yeah?” His voice was slightly hoarse, showing that she did indeed have some effect on her. The confidence was building as the car ride went on, each little confirmation that he had affections over her making it easier for her to feel the motivation to keep going. Keep poking and prodding to see what would get him to snap. “It’s uh, it’s like…” The satisfaction of making him lose his train of thought had her a little drunk with power, moving her fingertips to his ring to twist it around. “It’s not that bad, for me. I like pain, but it’s like… irritating, maybe. There’s areas you should go for a first time, nowhere directly over bone. My sternum hurt but like… yeah. S’not that bad. I’ll take you to my artist if you want.” 

“Would you?” Y/N wasn’t stupid. She knew her cadence, the sweet way she said it would elicit a specific type of reaction from him, but that’s the point. “That would be so sweet of you, H. Maybe I’ll take you up on that. I think…” The trail of her fing moved up and down his hand and towards his wrist. “You do a lot for me, you know? You’re so kind and helpful, you help me out at my places and I think maybe we don’t hang out outside of that as much as we should. Do you know what I mean?” 

“I agree.” He nodded along to her statement. “Well- I hope you know I don’t mind helping you or anything, cause I don’t. I really like doing things for you. It feels nice.” That could be a loaded statement if she thought about it too long. Harry powered through it though. “But I would love t’hang out with you more individually. I know what you’re sayin’. S’a little annoying when we go out and people interrupt our conversations.”

Y/N giggled at that because, well, they probably shouldn’t be having those conversations of philosophy at the bar and then get annoyed the friends they came with interrupted them, but it seemed like Harry didn’t really like sharing her attention much as it was. “I agree. So rude.” It was obvious she was teasing him a little, squeezing him lightly before her attention was caught by him turning into the car park. “Oh, shit. We’re here already?” 

Part of her was sad because the sexual tension was so delicious and she had been a little hopeful he’d snap, but she really was hungry. 

“Yeah, but it’s okay. We can keep talking inside, then I’ll bring you home.” There was another pause as she could see him trying to figure out how to say something else. “Uh, or if you wanted, you can come over and swim for a bit? You left your swimsuit there the last time I had the cookout and I’ve been meaning to give it back.”

Y/N felt herself resist the urge to squeeze her thighs together. There was that preexisting knowing that if she went over to his place there was a very little chance they’d actually go swimming. It was hard not to get on her knees and nudge his prick right into her mouth even in the car, but maybe this was what edging was like. “Sure! Everytime we hang out at my house you find something to do.” She raised an accusatory eyebrow at the man. “Something to fix. Maybe I want all the attention for once.”

“Oh yeah?” He met her eye with a brow raise, making her realize she had accidentally been suggestive… but fuck it. 

“Yep.” She popped the last letter of the word before opening her car door and slipping out. “Let’s go! I’m hungry!”

——

The tension wasn’t exclusive to the car.

It didn’t break when they walked in, it didn’t break when they sat down to order and it didn’t break as they ate. If anything, Y/N was being a tease for one of the first times in her life. Brushing her foot over his leg, keeping her eyes on the menu when they browsed it, sucking some of the chocolate from her milkshake from her fingers, bumping their feet together, it was thrilling. 

Harry’s eyes were dark, almost constantly on her. Y/N could feel his stare when she looked away, either to her food or when she had walked to the restroom to refresh herself. Her poor panties were completely useless now, but taking them off would do her no good. There was no doubt that this whole trip together had been working her up, but Harry had no problem in making it worse. 

After insisting on paying the full bill, Y/N walked a little bit ahead of him to try to get to his truck- only to be stopped by a hand on the back of her neck. Firm and controlling, he slowed her down to his pace. “I told you, I like t’open the door for you. So stop bein’ a brat because I didn’t let you pay and just say thank you.” 

And, oh- fuck. Y/N could have whimpered from the way he talked to her, rounded eyes looking up at his with her lip poking out slightly. His eyes were a darker shade of green and his jaw set in a way she hadn’t seen before. Had she been moving her hips a little more to see what he’d do? Yeah, a little. But it had to be a culmination of the fact that she’d been working him up all day and purposely acted up to see his reaction. 

“Sorry, daddy.” The apology held some sarcasm as they approached the truck. “Didn’t know I had to- oh!” Y/N choked out a gasp as she felt his hand release her neck, instead twirling her hair around his fist and stopping her straight. Her breathing hitched as she felt his lips come closer to her ear, the closeness of the man that had tormenting her poor body all day without even touching her cunt making her shiver. 

“Don’t call me that unless you want to be bent over my fuckin’ lap. Lots of attitude today from you, baby.” Baby? Oh, shit. The threat, the heat of his words, the grip, all of it had her knees feeling weak. “You’ve been a goddamn tease all day and I’ve been playing nice, so unless you want t’see my already thin fucking patience snap, I suggest you behave for me. Yeah?” The girl took too long to answer, apparently, because he tugged on her hair again to make it sting a little bit. “Asked you a question.” 

“Y-Yeah. I can.” Her voice weakened by the shock and pure arousal, she couldn’t form more than that as he unwound her hair from his fist, demeanor changing instantly with a soft kiss to her cheek. 

“There we go. Amazing!” He lightened up, opening the car door for her. “Wanted to hear that story about your neighbor and their Chihuahua, so why don’t you tell me that on the way to my place?” 

Y/N didn’t know how he switched to easily, how he wasn’t shaky and pressing her against the bench of his truck to show her exactly how impatient he could be, but she assumed he just had more control than she did. There was no more questioning in the grand investigation on if Harry was interested in her or not. It was safe to assume he was, and she was going to use every bit of that confidence to her advantage when they got back to his place. 

She’d behave for now. Let him help her into the car and tell him the story of the yappy thing that liked to eat baby carrots from her hand, be a good girl until they got to his house and the door was closed behind them. After that, though? All bets were off. 

——-

Harry’s house was a lot more rustic than hers was. 

It resembled a log cabin which really did attest to his whole lumberjack appeal. Contractor, wore flannels and tee shirts, his hair was a bit unkempt sometimes and he had that facial hair he grew out and shaved whenever it felt right. The wraparound porch was something she was eternally jealous of, along with the huge stone fireplace and step down living room. He had impeccable hardwood floors and an open concept bottom floor, skylights in the den and a back deck with a view of the mountains that would make anyone jealous. His pool was built into the hillside, his deck housing a jacuzzi and lots of seating as it sprawled down the length of his house. 

What was even better was knowing he’d put most of the grunt work into it. He bought the house and remodeled the whole thing, added onto it, renovated every nook and cranny while keeping the integrity of it. He worked with his hands and it was one of the sexiest things about him, she found, and that itself had her clenching her thighs as he opened the front door with her bags of books hanging off his arm. 

They were not light but he carried them like it was a bag of feathers. Another thing that made her feel out of her mind with hormones. 

Her brain hadn’t been able to stop repeating the way he had reacted to her playfully calling him daddy, how he had helped himself to her hair and took control of her. How he’d been sweet with her after, giving her cheek a chaste kiss before helping her into the car and listening intently to the story of the neighbor and her dog before letting the music turn up and them sit in their own silence. 

She wondered if he had been thinking about it too. 

Once the door was open she was happy to follow him inside, the smell of lemon hitting her in surprise. Usually it smelled like pine and something a little more musky. Like he could read her mind, he placed the bags on the foyer bench as he toed off his boots. “Had the housekeeper come by earlier today, it’s the cleaning stuff.”

“Housekeeper?” Y/N blinked a few times. “Since when?”

“Since 3 months ago. It’s twice a week, a woman comes by to clean the house for me. I do the normal upkeep but m’usually busy, y’know? Don’t have a lot of time to do the deep clean- and if I’m honest, I’ve got no desire to.” He laughed, hanging up the over shirt he brought in from the truck over the coatrack. 

“Ah. I don’t blame you. That’s the only thing I find chenging about having my own place.”

She could technically afford a housekeeper but it wasn’t something she needed. “I kinda like doing deep cleans. I do them on Sundays and get everything ready the week. If I had your place I’d be excited for it. It’s so beautiful in here.” The compliment was an understatement. If she could have any place, it would be this one. 

Sure the long driveway was probably a little scary at night and being in the woods would take a little more getting used to, but she’d seen the sunset from his deck. It was breathtaking. 

“Well, you’re welcome to do that whenever you want.” He teased, taking the keys from his pocket and putting them on the hook. One of his toolboxes sat on the floor next to the shoe rack, slightly open. It was just so… Harry of him. “Can I get you something to drink?” 

“No, I’m okay.” She shook her head, looking back up at him. His broad shoulders and his pretty eyes, arms crossed over his chest as he looked right back down at her. It was easy for the heat to come back between them as she took a step forward, reminding herself it was the time to be brave. Her second heartbeat between her thighs was nearly demanding it of her. “I wanted to ask… what was that all about? In the parking lot?” 

Harry winced slightly, looking away from her as a blush covered his cheeks. Not the reaction she’d expected, but it was interesting nonetheless. “I… that was out of line of me. I shouldn’t have touched you like that. I’m really sorry, Flower. It was inappropriate and I don’t-“ his eyes went back up as her hands covered his forearms, lightly tugging to get his crossed arms to drop. 

“Harry…” she sighed. “Why are you apologizing? Hm?” It was her turn to get into his personal space, stepping into his form and running her hands up his arms.

Those built, inked, perfect arms that reminded her just how strong they were all the fucking time. Her hands clasped together behind his neck, allowing herself to lean into his body as she swallowed her pride and gave herself permission to go for it. To just fucking do it. “I didn’t complain, did I? Didn’t tell you I was uncomfortable?”

“No…” he said slowly, hands frozen by his sides as he looked down at her like he was slightly confused. Almost like he didn’t believe it. 

“I wasn’t uncomfortable. I looked like that because when you grabbed my hair and spoke to me like that… it let me know what kind of man you are.” 

“And what kind of man do you think I am?” His voice dropped, eyes hooking on to hers as his hands slowly dropped to her hips. The grip was light, curious, but his palms were warm and large and fucking perfect on her body. 

“I think you’re the type of man who can fuck me right. You’re so sweet all the time, H. So nice t’me, you make me feel safe and appreciated and beautiful… you always compliment me and refill my drinks. But I didn’t realize you don’t treat the other girls like me. You don’t grab them and put them in your lap. You don’t kiss their necks. You only do that to me.” It was a relief to know that much.  “And I’ve been a little oblivious to the fact you’ve been trying to touch me differently, but I think that’s enough of that. You liked to hear about my books, paid for them, paid for my lunch… kinda acting like a sugar daddy today, hm?” Her hair fell over her shoulders as she arched her head back, the firm wall of a man keeping her up as she did so. 

“I didn’t do it for you to touch me, Y/N- I promise.” He assured quickly, which was sweet. She already knew it though. 

“I know you didn’t. You did it because you’re a provider. You help me in so many ways, you’re the best man I’ve ever met. You’d do it for me over and over again, even if I didn’t catch on because you’re just good. So fucking good to me, and today….” Biting down lightly on her lip, she let out a quiet groan. “Today you drove me crazy. Kept touching me lightly and didn’t press too much, gave me all the answers I wanted and were so respectful about my own. It just let me know that it wasn’t stupid of me to like you. You’re the type of man who can take care of me. Aren’t you?” 

The question was answered with a low groan and his mouth falling on hers. Full and soft, he caught her lips with his own and exhaled against her as he hummed. Fucking finally.  Pulling apart with a soft click, he let out a laugh of disbelief. He couldn’t believe he was kissing her, that she was saying all of this- and neither could she. “If you let me, I will. I’ll take care of every-fuckin-thing you could ever want, baby. You’ve been driving me crazy since we first met, and I was patient but… you’re right.” Another kiss melted her, the grip on her hips not so gentle anymore. “I am a provider. So let me provide you with the pleasure I know you need.”

[papercorgiworld]

Quiet a long night

Alternatively: Enzo’s deal with Mattheo

Enzo and Mattheo x reader

You can read this request as a summary, because I don’t want to reveal anything else.

Warning: not really a threesome, but still you get fucked by both Enzo and Mattheo, fingering, oral m and f receiving, submissive reader I guess, piv, overstimulationand maybe orgasm denial… I’m not good at warnings, but I’m sure you get it: 18+

Minimal plot, sorry. I hope it lives up to the expectations. I might have strayed a bit from the essence of the request. Not exactly a threesome, but the next best thing I guess, because I honestly believe Mattheo would go mental if he had to watch the woman he loves with another man. I’m going to be honest, I’m a softy so despite the jealousy this isn’t crazy rough, I mean this is just how I write but I did my best.

A/N: If you check out my little masterlist thingy, you’ll notice I added a little currently working on etc. This is because of some changes in life, which have me worried about how much time I’ll have to write so this way you can check up on what I’m doing.

Feedback is always welcome. Happy readings!

Tears are welling up but you hold them back as you tell Pansy everything that had happened the night before. Sympathetically she listens to your painned voice, while Lorenzo approaches you with a frown on his face as he listens in. “He just walked out and now we’re done. Can you believe it?” Enzo raises his eyebrows and uncrosses his arms to wrap you in his arms. “Mattheo’s an idiot sometimes. He’ll come around. He always does.” You huff through sobs as you break down in Enzo’s arms. “He needs to realize that I am not someone he can toss away whenever he wants to and then come back when it fits him.” Enzo places a soft kiss on your temple, arms still tightly embracing you. You stay in his arms for a while and Pansy who’s been silently watching the both of you chews her lip. “I’m not one to meddle, but if you really want Mattheo to realize that you won’t wait for him every time he gets confused over his daddy and mommy issues, you can always fake date Enzo. I’m sure Mattheo will learn.” With watery eyes you stare at Pansy, but slowly her idea starts to make a lot of sense. When you turn to look at Enzo with teary eyes he really can’t say no. A hesitant breath leaves his lips as he worries about what he’s getting himself into, before speaking up. “What are best friends for if it isn’t for fake dating.” He jokes and you cuddle up to him.

It only took Mattheo two days to lose his patience. He had endured enough of you two and was done watching you with him. You in Enzo’s lap laughing at his goofy acts. Enzo’s hand slowly moving down and resting on your ass. You wrapped in Enzo’s arms while he places a soft kiss on your forehead. Enzo leaning back in the common room just to wrap his arm around you, gently playing with your hair. Your hand on Enzo’s thigh tenderly moving up as he stares at you with adoring eyes. Mattheo was forced to watch it all.

When you and Lorenzo skipped breakfast and stayed in one morning, Mattheo had had enough. With gritted teeth and dark eyes Mattheo walks the hallways of the castle. Berkshire, you worm, you had no right to spend the night with my girl. We’re not together at the moment, but she’s still my one love and you know that, you little shit. Enzo was out of line. “Berkshire!” Enzo snapped his head around to find a fuming Mattheo approaching him. This was bound to happen, honestly Mattheo had held together for longer than Enzo expected him to. “You break it off with my girl, today!” Mattheo pushes Enzo against a wall, but Enzo bites back pushing Mattheo’s hands off of him. “Why would I do that when she’s so much fun?” Lorenzo’s suggestive teasing makes Mattheo’s heart squeeze tight. You were his girl, he needed you back. Mattheo reaches for his wand as his eyes burn with hate and he closes in on Enzo’s face. “You will step back, because I love her and I will have her back. I’ll kill for that brat, so go find someone else.” Mattheo’s voice is ice cold, but he doesn’t cast a curse. Lorenzo relaxes as he watches Mattheo turn away, but as soon as Enzo lets his guard down Mattheo throws a punch, hitting Enzo’s cheek hard, before calmly walking away.

***

Enzo lets himself fall next to you on the couch with a sigh. You immediately spot the bruise on his cheekbone with horrified eyes and gentle fingers, you brush his face. “It isn’t that bad.” Lorenzo whispers and you feel guilt well up. “This was a horrible idea.” Enzo meets your eyes with a comforting smile. He tugs your hand and you move to sit in his lap, brushing your lips over his. “Did he say something?” His eyes fall to his hand resting on your thigh. It takes a moment before Enzo meets your eyes, but when he does you notice how soft they are. “Matt loves you (y/n) and we both know you belong with him… so I guess it’s time we stop fooling around.” You look down to his hand, his thumb drawing soft circles on your thigh, and chew your lip. “What did he say exactly?” You wonder, does Mattheo really love you, does he really want you back? Lorenzo softly brushes his fingers through your hair, adoring your beauty. “It’s what you wanted right? He wants you back and I’m sure that he’s not gonna let go of you ever again.” You wanted Mattheo back so bad, you belonged with him, you were sure of that, but a part of you was going to miss Enzo. “I’ll miss our time together.” You whisper and meet his eyes. A soft smile tugs on Enzo’s lips. “Wish you could have us both?” You hide your face in the crook of his neck, before softly whispering: “Maybe.”.

***

You and Enzo decided to break things off tomorrow. After today’s classes you would have one last date night, which again ended with you underneath him.

You lay on your bed as his hands moved over your thigh, while he kissed and sucked on your neck, leaving small bruises. Your fingers entangle in his hair as you feel his hand slowly move under your dress and up to your panties. “Please, Enzo.” You moan and he traces kisses from your neck to your lips. “Take off that dress for me first.” You push him off of you and while he removes his shirt he watches you with hungry eyes as you reveal your lingerie to him. Instantly he’s back on top of you, his eyes scanning your body. “So fucking beautiful.” His fingers gently trace your bra, hips and thighs, before focussing on your panties. His hand slips underneath the soft fabric of your panties and a finger slides through your folds. “Wet, but not wet enough.” Lorenzo growls and with those words he enters a finger, sinking deep into you, making you moan. Your parted lips are a silent invitation for him to sneak his tongue in and eagerly explore your mouth. Muffled moans fill the room as his finger plays with your clit, making you arch your back and squirm underneath him. He feels your body tense as your orgasm builds up. “Not so quick, princess.” He pulls out his finger, making you whimper before whining. “Enzo.” You whine. Mattheo was right, you're spoiled rotten.

You watch him through hooded eyelids as he traces kisses over your breasts, while his hand sneaks to your back to unclasp your bra. His tongue eagerly moves over your perked nipples and you tug to his hair, whimpering underneath him as sensations build up. While his mouth plays with your nipples his hands are free to move down your panties a little, only separating his mouth from your boobs to carelessly throw your panties on your bedroom room. Enzo places soft kisses over your tummy, announcing his way down. You can feel your core get needy for him as he works his way down teasingly slow. “I beg you, Enz, please-” A soft cry interrupts your plea as his tongue slips between your folds. His hands grip your thigh forcing your legs open so he can press his face hard against your pussy. Soft desperate moans escape you, but it’s not enough for Enzo and his hands move to your boobs kneading them and fingers harshly playing with your sensitive nipples, while mercilessly devouring your cunt.

You cry out Enzo’s name as you buck your hips searching for that last touch to tip you over the edge. He grabs your ass like a brute angling you right so he can give you what you need, his tongue focused on your clit. Your lips part, but no sound comes out as you climax with Enzo’s mouth still working your pussy, thirsty to taste your juices. He finally moves away to watch you panting underneath him, slowly removing his pants and boxers revealing his large member to you. You squirm as you realize that Enzo was far from done with you, which only makes Lorenzo smirk as he jerks himself before crawling over you. He looked godly, fully naked and hovering over you, lustful for you.

He kisses you intensely and despite your already wobbly legs you bravely reach for his cock. You stroke Enzo’s painfully hard cock and he moans into the kiss, while you guide him to your entrance. “You’re so good for me.” Enzo whimpers as he slowly moves inside you, loving the feeling of your walls around him. Once he’s settled deep inside of you, Enzo grabs your hips and flips you in one swift move so you’re now on top of him. A cry leaves your lips at the sudden movement with his dick deep inside of you. “Move for me.” Enzo whispers as he brushes your hair out of your face. You nod with your mouth slightly agape and do as he asked. With your hands on his shoulders you bounce on his dick. You start slowly, but quickly try to pick up the pace. Enzo pants and moans as his eyes move from your blushed face to your pretty tits moving in front of him to your cunt taking him so fucking well. You drop your head and soft cries escape you as you struggle to take his full size, feeling him stretch you hard and deep.

As Enzo feels his orgasm approach he curses himself for making a deal with Mattheo. Your walls clench so good around him, he wants you to cum and he wants to cum, but instead he stops your hips from moving. “Get on your knees and let your mouth work.” Enzo clenches his jaw as you look at him with confused and pleading eyes. Was he punishing you for some reason allowing you to feel him inside of you to then take that away from you with any release. “Enzo, please.” You whine cupping his face and doing your best to move on his dick despite Enzo’s strong grip on your hips. “Do as I say sweetheart.” Reluctant you move up, leaving your pussy clenching around nothing as you still so desperately want to cum. With innocent eyes you watch Enzo as you move to sit between Enzo’s legs. His hand makes its way to your hair, caressing your scalp as you open your mouth to taste his cock covered in both your juices. Your legs are pressed tightly closed as you feel your clit throbbing in need of touch, but you ignore your own desire and focus on pushing Enzo’s hard member deep down your throat. Enzo moves your head just a little more, making you gag a little before allowing you to move up and down. You pause a moment to lick and suck his tip before working his dick deep again. When feels himself get close Enzo firmly grips your hair and thrusts upwards into your mouth, fucking your mouth and spilling deep inside of you. Your eyes get watery as you take his load. Surprised by his own harshness he pulls your flustered face towards his. Brushing a tear away with his thumb. “You’re so pretty. So sweet.”

Enzo pulls you close and wraps his arms around you, while kissing you passionately, before pulling away and leaving you alone and naked on your bed. You watch him confused, desperate and vulnerable. With one word from Enzo the key from the door clicks, unlocking it and it only takes a second for the door to open. Flustered and with still teary eyes you watch Mattheo walk in and instantly your lips part as a soft sound leaves your lips. Mattheo feels himself get hard the second he sees your naked body, glinstering cunt and flushed face, exactly how he wanted you. Feeling vulnerable under Mattheo’s piercing gaze you close your legs and look away in shame. Enzo places a soft hand on your thigh, squeezing gently, while his lips move close to your ear. “You said you wished you could have us both.” Your eyes move from Enzo to Mattheo who slowly removes his tie with his eyes still focussed on you. “So I managed to make a little deal with the devil.” Enzo pulls away from you and licks his lips.

“Can I watch?” Lorenzo asks with a playful smile, but Mattheo doesn’t look at him as he steps closer to your naked sheepish figure. “Get lost Berkshire, I’m the boyfriend, you’re the toy.” Your mouth drops as Enzo just grins at you, pulling up his pants and grabbing his shirt, before leaving. With confused eyes you stare at the door through which Enzo just left. You sit still on the bed, unmoved as Mattheo sits down next to you on the bed, watching you carefully while you avoid his gaze, feeling your heart race with anticipation of what is to come. “Don’t be ungrateful.” Mattheo whispers softly, while stroking your cheek. “Open your legs for me.” You part them only slightly as you feel your wetness pool at his words, stimulating your sensitive overstimulated pussy. “Wider, I’m not Enzo, I need to be deeper inside of you.” He immediately inserts two fingers harshly into you. “Berkshire lived up to his word, preparing your cunt for me. It’s soaked.” You whimper as his fingers stretch you and forcefully circle your clit. “I’m still sensitive.” You whimper barely audible, feeling your whole body fill with sensations at your boyfriend’s touch. “You wanted the both of us, love, so now you’ve got to take the both of us, no complaining.” Mattheo whispers harshly with eyes focused on your teary ones as you softly nod.

Mattheo continues to thrust his fingers inside of you, while wrapping an arm around your figure and pulling you against him. He rests his head against yours, allowing himself to take in your warmth and smell. I missed you, princess. You cling to his shirt as his fingers curl inside of you soaking his hand with your arousal. You let your head rest on his shoulder as you whimper at his touch. You missed his touch and warmth so much. “I love you, Mattheo.” You whisper with a shaky voice and watery eyes. “I love you too and I promise I’m here to stay.” He whispers softly before suddenly pulling his fingers away from your needy pussy. “But don’t ever fuck that toy of yours without my permission again or you’ll regret it.” He grabs your chin and forces you to meet his eyes. Your naked figure is shaky as you nod softly, eyes focussed on his dark ones. “How do you want me?” You ask innocently, knowing that pleasing your boyfriend is the only way he will lead you cum tonight.

“Hands and knees.” He states and gets up to undress, while you move to please him. He watches you with longing eyes, while gently stroking your thigh before harshly grabbing the flesh of your asscheeks. “I’ve been hungry for you for a while, so this really isn’t going to be pretty.” Mattheo warns as he grabs his cock and guides it to your entrance to tease you, only brushing his tip through your folds. You spread your legs a little wider and lower your hips in search of more of his touch, while simultaneously grabbing the sheets tightly and arching your back, preparing for Mattheo’s animalistic side. However, he continues to tease you and watch you squirm for a few moments. Angry with himself that he allowed Enzo to have even a glimpse of how good you could be. He needed to fuck you hard and deep and probably more than once to find peace with what you had allowed Enzo to do to you. Without warning Mattheo thrusts into you, immediately earning a cry from you.

Firmly grabbing onto your hips he pounds into you like you’re a doll. You whimper his name as he hits your sensitive spot at a ridiculous pace. In record time your moans go silent as your mouth hangs open, face pressed onto the mattress as your pussy is forced to take Mattheo’s thick cock fast and deep. His eyes carefully watch you and when notices you’re only seconds away from climaxing he reluctantly pulls out, turning you into a sobbing mess and flipping you over onto your back. “Wide.” He demands and you spread your weak legs as wide as you can, ashamed at your own state and your desperation for your boyfriend’s dick you look away as he hungrily watches you while kneading your breasts, thumb moving over your nipple, before slipping his cock back inside your cunt. Mattheo cups your cheek and forces you to meet his eyes as he pushes himself deep inside of you, watching your lips part for silent moan as he stretches your walls. Softly he brushes your cheek with his thumb. “You belong to me, princess.” He growls and you nod with submissive eyes, before snaking your arms around his neck, while he settles in the crook of your neck. He starts rutting into you again, directly hitting the spot you need him to and finally giving you that much needed orgasm that nearly has you pass out. The blissful ecstasy running through your body helps your overstimulated walls take Mattheo a little longer for him to spill his load into you, something that was only reserved for him since he’s your boyfriend.

Your fingers entangle in your favorite curly hair as Mattheo pants against your shoulder, still keeping his dick inside of you for a few more moments. “I’m sorry for what I did with Enzo.” You whisper and Mattheo places a soft sloppy kiss on your cheek. “It’s okay, princess. I was an ass to you, I deserved it and you deserved a little treat.” You rest your cheek against him, but he moves away a little. “But, I meant what I said earlier. Don’t ever let him touch him with my permission. You’re mine.” You nod knowing he was dead serious, but you can’t help but like the idea that there is a possibility of him granting permission. However, at the moment your body was not in need of another round. “How about a warm lavender bath for the princess?” You nod, eager to lay on your boyfriend’s chest as the warm water relaxes your body. After all, it had been quite a long night.

Bonus?

Relaxed and cleaned, you enjoy the intimacy of sitting together surrounded by the water. You feel yourself dozing off as Mattheo runs the washing cloth over your skin softly while you lay on his chest. He kisses your cheek and you hum at his touch, making him chuckle softly. “I’m glad the smell of Enzo is finally gone.” Your eyes flutter open again as the tone of his voice warns you. “Get up. One last fuck. Then you can rest.” Mattheo’s voice is demanding and you get up reaching for a nearby towel. He follows swiftly and lets his eyes wander shamelessly. The plan was to at least get you to the bedroom, but when Mattheo catches you staring at his hardening member through the mirror he smirks, before pulling your body against his. With your back pressed against his chest, his hand snakes between your legs making him groan and you moan. “Be good for me and maybe I’ll let that toy of yours fuck you again someday.”

Word count: 3414

Picture source Mattheo

Picture source Enzo

[captainamericasmotercycle]

cherry

i noticed that there’s a piece of you in how i dress

pairing: james potter x reader

warnings: cursing

wc: 1.2k

a/n: i’m back!! also please note that i am not crazy and that i do know my characters! the theodore nott mentioned here is theodore nott sr.!! not theodore nott jr. (the “slytherin boys” theo)

absolutely DO NOT steal my work and post it on other platforms. DO NOT feed my work to AI fuck that.

It was a gorgeous, late, fall morning - one where you surprisingly did not have class. You were lounging in the common room by the fireplace with a novel when someone stormed through the portrait hole.

In came an enraged James Potter dressed in his practice uniform cursing under his breath.

You were quite close with James, just not as close as you’d like to be.

“James, what happened?”

He glares at you, “What happened? Oh, I’ll tell you what happened.”

He storms off to the dorms without telling you anything. You close your book and quickly follow him.

Once in his dorm you sit on his bed and watch as he starts throwing his quidditch gear everywhere.

“Alright, would you like to calm down and tell me what happened?” You ask him as if he’s a small child who had just gotten himself into trouble.

“No.”

He starts to undress and change when he finally talks to you, “We have the most important match against Slytherin tonight and my fucking teams not ready,”

He pulls off his shirt and interlocks his hands behind his head, you can’t help but to stare and drool a little.

“I need to win this match you don’t understand!”

“James, why?”

“Because I hate their fucking captain.”

Ahh. Theodore Nott. James has had it out for Theo ever since 1st year when Theo knocked James off his broom during a match, causing Gryffindor to lose.

“Okay,”

“I have to win and my fucking team won’t fucking listen to me,” you’ve never heard James curse this much. He’s pissed, “I just don’t have time to reteach 6 fucking players the basics of quidditch.”

Sirius timidly opens the door and sees you on the bed and James yelling at you, well more yelling in your general direction, but Sirius didn’t know that.

“Looks like you lot are busy, um, I’m gonna.. go,” Sirius was on the team, contributing to the problem. James rushes over to the door and slams it in his face.

“Don’t come back until you learn to fucking fly.”

“Don’t you think you were a little harsh?”

“No.”

He stalks over to his wardrobe and pulls out 6 quidditch uniforms, tossing them on the bed next to you.

He always wears the match jersey the day of and has a spare of the three uniforms that the team rotates out.

He pulls his favorite red jersey over his head, “Merlin, if the team could even get the uniforms right I’d be fucking shocked,”

“James you need to take a walk, clearly,”

He looks at you and his eyes soften, “Alright, only if you come with me, I can’t trust myself to see anyone from my team alone right now.”

You smile and nod, following him out of the dorms, noting that he left the door ajar.

It takes 3 laps around campus and about a thousand rants to get him to calm down, but you finally manage to do it. Once you make it back to Gryffindor tower the two of you part and he goes to the quidditch pitch (once again) and you stay in the common room.

You look around for the book you began to read this morning but don’t see it anywhere, you try to retrace your steps when it hits you. You’ve left it in James’s dorm room.

He wouldn’t mind you going in there, right? To be fair, it is your book.

You climb the boy dormitory stairs and enter the empty room. Walking over to James’s bed, you look near his night stand and on the bed when you finally see the hard cover of your book peeking out from under a piece of red fabric.

You lift the spare jersey and pick up your book. You set the jersey back down and turn to leave, then an idea hits you.

If you wore his spare jersey tonight, would that be over stepping? No? You two are friends and he does need a little more encouragement tonight, so why not?

You fold the rest of the jerseys up and put them away, taking the spare of the one he has on, back to your dorm.

The rest of the day is spent lounging and snacking. Until an hour before the game, you were sprawled out on your bed with your second book.

Mary walks into your shared dorm and smiles, “Get up! It’s time for the match!”

You turn to look at her and stretch, “I’m coming!” You say through a yawn.

“Good! Lily, Remus, and Peter are already down there, and pray for Marlene and Sirius, I’ve heard James had been an arse today,”

You smile, “Tell me about it,”

“We’ll save you a seat but you better hurry,”Mary giggles and leaves you alone once again.

You layer your clothes for the chilly weather, slipping James’s jersey over your outfit. You all but sprint down to the quidditch pitch to meet your friends.

You find your seat and sit, right in the front row with James’s jersey on full display for everyone to see. You collected quite an amount of wide-eyed stares from the other students.

Why wouldn’t you? Wearing the most sought out guy at Hogwarts’ jersey.

Just moments after you sat, the players started to emerge from their respective preparation rooms.

The game began and James flew right past you, almost flying into the stands.

Were you trying to make him lose? How could you wear his jersey and expect him to focus on the game?

An extravagantly quick-moving bludger snapped him out of his trance of admiration. He had to win this game, especially now since you have his jersey on.

He scored point after point on Slytherin, hardly giving them a minute to catch their breaths. The game ended when his seeker caught the snitch, and James could not get off the pitch faster than he did.

You came down from the stands and waited for him at the entrance of his team’s tent. Though he had just beaten Slytherin, something he’s been talking about for weeks, the thing he was most excited about was you.

He met you outside the tent and smiled as he walked up, “Did you join the team?”

You looked away from him bashfully, there was now barely any room between you two.

He lifted your chin with his finger to look at him. You smiled up and he smiled back, “Merlin, you look gorgeous in my uniform. I could get used to this,”

You grabbed the collar of his jersey and pulled him down to your lips. He pulled away and his smile grew larger, “Merlin, I could get used to that as well!”

He rested his hand on your cheek and pulled you in for another kiss - the kiss turning into a near make-out in front of the player’s tent.

Once you managed to break away, he rested his forehead against yours before giving you a feathered kiss on the top of your head.

He slung an arm over your shoulder as the two of you walked back towards the castle, “Come on, I want to show everyone how good you look in my clothes.”

[whipitgod]

Totally Normal, Non Romantic Bro Moment

Dean x Castiel

oneshot - wc: 2k

summary: Dean is the only one who doesn’t realize he’s dating Cas

warnings: blatantly and boldly ignoring canon, a little crack-ish as per usual, some light swearing and little bit of spice (they kiss but that’s it)

a/n: Thank you for all the support on the last few oneshots!! this is the first time i’ve ever written for destiel or supernatural so it might be a bit ooc! If you like this remember to leave a like/reblog! maybe even follow me :D! Happy reading!!

!!!!REQUESTS ARE OPEN!!!!

“Sammy!” The sound of his brother calling his name makes Sam sit up quickly, having dozed off whilst trying to finish a book he had started ages ago but could never manage to find the time to complete. He pushes himself off his bed with the intent to meet the older Winchester in the kitchen where he heard him yelling from. Before he even has a chance to reach for the door handle the door flies open, Dean entering the room with a startling amount of aggression.

Sam puffs out an irritated breath at the man's behavior, “Of course you can come in-” he pauses slightly taking in the flustered nature of the hunter now pacing back in forth and grumbling quietly to himself; a look of concern crosses Sam’s face, mouth turning down slightly, “Are you alright, did something happen?”

Dean’s head snaps towards him then, looking at him for the first time since he had burst into the room, “Yeah, i’m fine man,” he gets a look on his face like he tasted something bitter before rushing out an agitated, “no actually i’m not fine.” Sam tilts his head slightly at this urging Dean to continue with a wave of his hand; Sam notes that the man has yet to stop pacing.

“Bobby said someth’n weird earlier that's got me thinking,” Dean hesitates for a moment almost like he’s second guessing even bringing it up, “he uh,” another slight pause, brows furrowing, “he seems to think i’m dating Cas.” he takes a deep breath after he says this, a common action when he gets too worked up over something.

The younger Winchesters' brows crease in confusion at this, Dean taking this as a sign that his brother finds the notion absurd lets out a relieved breath. His relief is only short lived, Sam shaking his head slightly before questioning, “Is that it?” Dean's expression hardens, agitation returning and causing his shoulders to tense.

“The hell do you mean ‘is that it’, this is a big deal!”

Sam lets out a small laugh at his brother's frustration, “Was he not accepting?”

The anger leaves Deans features, a look of confusion taking it’s place, “The fuck does that mean?”

“Was he not accepting of your relationship with cas?” Sam now wears a look of confusion mirroring Dean’s. The older man stops pacing at this question, brows furrowing even further than Sam thought possible.

“What relationship?” The anger gone from Dean’s voice, tone now mired in confusion.

Sam looks at his brother like he’s lost his mind, “The relationship you have with Cas,” he searches Dean’s face for any sign that the man is joking, not finding any he pushes on, “You guys have been dating for months.”

Dean seems to short circuit at this, blinking several times before letting out a disbelieving scoff, “I am not dating Cas,” a nervous laugh escapes him, “That’s insane, I knew you were crazy but not that crazy.”

Sam stares blankly at him and Dean rushes to continue, “I mean the idea of Cas and I dating is laughable,” another nervous laugh accompanied by a growing redness in his face, “Why would you even think that?”

Sam’s eyebrows shoot up in disbelief at the question, a sharp bark of laughter leaving him before he can stop it. He tries again to find any sign that his brother is joking but the man's expression is steely, jaw clenched in frustration, “Oh wow, you’re serious.” At this Dean lets out an angry huff opening his mouth to start speaking before closing it again, teeth grinding together.

“For starters, you guys act like an old married couple all the time,” Dean opens his mouth to disagree but Sam cuts him off, “you guys also frequently gaze into each other's eyes for extended periods of time.”

“We do not!”

“Just last week you guys had a whispered discussion before staring into each other's eyes for five minutes,” Dean’s expression turns contemplative, “five minutes might not be accurate actually,” Sam thinks for a moment, “It was probably longer, I didn't stand around to time it.”

Dean releases an irritated noise before rushing to defend himself, “We were having a moment!” Sam’s expression turns amused at the sentence and Dean jumps to amend it, “A bro moment! A totally normal, non romantic bro moment!”

Sam quirks a brow at this, a teasing smile threatening to overcome his features. Dean lets out another frustrated sound, “It’s a normal dude thing, it’s what pals do!” Sam kind of wants to let Dean continue floundering, if only to see how many synonyms he can find for the word ‘bro’; he decides against it, deciding to put Dean out of his misery.

With a gentle sigh the younger man pushes himself up so he’s sitting fully upright, “Bobby and I aren't the only ones who think you guys are together,” He thinks for a moment, “Actually, I'm pretty sure you are the only one that doesn't think you guys are dating.”

Dean is quiet at this causing him to continue, “I don't know man, it's something you should think about,” Sam stands and walks over to the door with the intent to find something for dinner, “maybe you should talk to cas about this.'' With that he pulls the door open not waiting for the other man to respond, and without sparing another glance in Dean’s direction he walks down the hallway towards the kitchen.

Dean stands motionless for a few minutes before managing to snap himself out of the daze the conversation had left him in. Shaking his head in an attempt to clear his thoughts, he makes the short trek to his own bedroom; Closing the door behind him and letting out a breath he didn't know he had been holding, he lets his mind wander to memories of all of the interactions he and Cas had had recently.

Sure they were close, their relationship probably closer than most other mens, but that didn't mean they were together! Sure they had kissed a few times when they were both a little too drunk but that didn't mean anything! It was normal to kiss your bro when you had a few too many. This line of thinking does nothing to quell the internal turmoil he was feeling; his mind now stuck on memories of the kisses they had shared on rare occasions that were never discussed once they were sober.

Dean huffs a bitter laugh, “I don't even like men.” The phrase feels wrong as it leaves his mouth. He had never really given much thought to whether or not he liked men, but now that he was thinking about it he’s met with a startling realization, “Oh god, do i?”

He thinks back to all of the men that he had ever found attractive, the ones he was a bit too fascinated by; having written off the fascination as a friendly interest at the time, he finds himself realizing that some of the interest really wasn't all that friendly.

His mind wanders to cas, remembering all of the things they had done together that had, at the time, seemed innocent and friendly; now that he’s looking back on them they seem to be a little bit too intimate to be friendly. There was also that one dream he had a few weeks back that had made being around cas very awkward for a few days, the memory of the dream alone making his face heat up. He loses track of the amount of time he stays lost in thought, his mind spinning in circles as he thinks about the dynamic he has with the angel.

He reaches a conclusion that makes him suck in a sharp breath, “Oh god, i'm in love with cas.” It comes out as a disbelieving whisper. He doesn't know what to do with realization but now that he’s said it outloud it feels like the most obvious thing in the world.

A Few Days Earlier

Dean can’t help but watch Cas's side profile as the man takes another swig from the almost empty bottle of whiskey; Dean had tapped out before the bottle had even been opened, the angel needing way more alcohol than Dean could stomach to even get a buzz. The hunter isn’t quite sure how many bottles of assorted liquor cas had drunk at this point but it was clear the man was feeling the effects of them, his eyes a little droopy as if he was struggling to see clearly. Dean wasn’t in much better shape, his eyes struggling to focus as he watched the angel’s Adam's apple bob as he drank. Without realizing that he was even moving he reached up and grabbed the bottle from Cas's hands, taking a quick drink of it before setting it down in front of them.

“I think you’ve had enough.” Dean's tone is light when he says this, almost teasing. Cas meets his eyes with a dazed smile and Dean’s eyes get stuck on the curve of his lips.

He wants to kiss him. The thought doesn't scare him like he thinks it should, he supposes it wouldn't be the first drunken kiss the pair had shared; alcohol acting as a cover for the real emotions at play that Dean really didn't want to deal with.

Before he can think better of it he leans in, cas letting out a surprised noise as their lips meet before melting into the kiss. The thought that they shouldn’t be doing this crosses Dean's mind but he stamps it down quickly when he feels cas reach up and tangle his fingers in his hair. They stay like that until dean pulls away slightly to suck in a few panting breaths, their foreheads stay touching as they stare into each other's eyes. Dean remembers, bitterly, that tomorrow this would become another one of the little moments that he's too afraid to discuss. With that floating around his head he leans back in with a little bit more force than necessary, their teeth clacking together as their mouths meet.

Present Day

He blinks away the memory, shaking his head slightly and digging in his pocket for his phone, he finds cas’s contact and hesitates for a moment before hitting the call button. The sound of the phone ringing does nothing to calm the anxiety he’s feeling but before he can second guess himself cas picks up.

Cas answers the phone with a soft, “Hello?” and dean feels his heart in his throat.

“I think I'm in love with you.” He had not meant to blurt it out like that, and he curses quietly to himself as he waits for Cas's response.

“I mean it would be kind of weird if you weren’t given that we’re dating.”

Dean pauses at this, a flood of emotions hitting him and causing him to let out a sound reminiscent of a gasp, “What?”

“We’re dating,” there's a pause from cas and the rustle of papers being moved, dean briefly wonders what he’s doing before he realizes what the man had said. Dean's mouth opens and shuts a few times as he struggles to find the appropriate words.

Cas continues speaking, seemingly oblivious to the internal struggle that Dean is having, “We had a date a few days ago,” more rustling, “we got pizza and then got drunk and made out.”

Dean is at a loss for words, he lets out a choked sound before starting to laugh, the kind of laugh that makes your sides hurt. It takes him a minute to regain his composure, wiping a tear that had escaped during the laughing fit he takes a deep breath before responding, “Yeah i guess we did.”

“Are you feeling alright?” The question sounds so sincere it almost causes Dean to spiral into laughter again but he manages to hold it in.

The hunter pauses for a moment thinking about the question, “Yeah,” he’s smiling so hard his cheeks are starting to hurt, “i’m great.”

[berryhobii]

One Margarita(pjm x reader)

Pairing: Park Jimin x black!female!reader

Warnings: established relationship, fluff, Smut(18+ but I don’t control what you consume), mentions of brunch, mentions of drinking alcoholic beverages, drunk antics, Jimin being a sweetheart, reader being a giggly and clingy drunk, reader also being a horny drunk, implied foreplay but I don’t write it out, on the side sex(reader lays on their side but Jimin doesn’t, hopefully I explained the position good enough hehe), missionary, doggy style, clit play, rough sex, drunk sex, a little dirty talk, Jimin’s stroke game is A+, both implied multiple orgasms and actual orgasms, implied oral(f receiving), choking with both hands, scratching, reader is dick drunk and Jimin is pussy drunk, reader trying to run from the dick but Jimin doesn’t allow it😆, bad TikTok references and I’m not sorry

A/N: And we’re back! Welcome back! I know I’ve been away for a while but I recently closed on a townhouse and I’ve been moving these past few weeks but I’m finally settled! It’s been crazy but now that I’m back, I’ll be doing regular postings again. I wrote this after seeing a Jimin edit with that One Margarita by That Chick Angel on TikTok. I just couldn’t not write about it. As for reader, I did describe them as brown skinned with love handles and saggy/droopy breasts because we’re out there! Not every breast is perky and that’s okay! They’re all beautiful! I also gave reader locs because I’ve been so many gorgeous black women really embracing them lately and I love that. Another thing, my requests are open for both BTS and Seventeen members. I’ve been rewatching both group’s In the Soop seasons and I’ve been having the best time. Both Yoongi and Woozi have been wrecking me lately. And I may or may not have a Rockstar!threesome fic planned with them😆😆I mean, long haired boyfriends that you can dress the same? Yes please. Anyway, enjoy this and thanks for reading

~

Jimin knew the moment he heard your silly giggles and the crash of the shoe rack that you were drunk off your ass.

This was a common occurrence on certain Sundays when you went out to brunch with your friends. You didn’t really like to drink but margaritas were your kryptonite, those frozen and fruity concoctions just did something for you. A few of those and your inhibitions were flying south for the winter.

Closing his book with a sigh, he stood to his feet to go and greet you at the door.

You were leaned over at the waist, one hand on the wall and the other trying to unlace the strings off your heels. How all of the shoes had gotten all over the floor was a mystery to him but he’d worry about that later.

“Baby.”

You turned your head, locs falling into your face and sticking to your lip gloss. A goofy smile spread across your face at the sight of your husband standing there, your vision slightly blurry from both your hair and the alcohol in your system.

Dropping your foot, you tried to stand to your feet but gravity was a bitch so you stumbled to the ground. Jimin immediately surged forward to help you.

Giggles erupted from you as you leaned into your dependable husband, your hands landing on his buff biceps. Mmm, he was so strong….

Placing your chin on his chest to lovingly gaze up at him, you wrapped your arms around his torso. “Hiiiiiiiiiiiiiii my sweet baby love muffin cake. What are….*hic*….you doing here?”

He couldn’t fight down his smile, expression full of endearment for you. God, he loved you so much. Even drunk you was adorable.

“I live here?”

Another fit of giggles. “So do I!!”

“Alright, let’s get you out of these clothes and some water.” He leaned down a little to grab your thighs and haul you up. You let out a noise as he lifted you, your arms wrapping around his neck and legs sticking straight out.

“Whoa! I am married sir.” You slurred, laying your head on his shoulder, eyelids drooping. Even while drunk and unaware, Jimin’s presence calmed you. Like your body just knew you were in safe hands and could finally relax.

He just rolled his eyes and began his walk your shared bedroom.

Gently placing you on the bed, he tried to stand but your arms locked him in your embrace. Your glossed lips left sticky kisses across his neck and jawline.

He could tell where this was going. You always got super horny after brunch. Not that he hated it, quite the contrary. Drunk sex was absolutely amazing with you—you just got so submissive and pliable. Whiny too which he secretly loved.

While he really wanted to flip you over and fuck you until you were sober, he knew he had to get you situated first.

“Baby, let me go. I have to get you out of these clothes.”

You whispered, “Please do.” Releasing him, he rolled his neck, relieving a bit of the tension from bending over in that position.

“I’m readyyyyyyy.” You opened your legs in a V shape, smacking your ankles together in an attempt to be sexy but Jimin just thought you were funny.

He walked over to your dresser to pick out something for you to wear. A muu-muu would be the easiest to slip on you in your jelly like state, he thought.

When he turned back around, he found you trying to get your pants off while your legs were still in the air.

“Let me help.” He gently said, starting to untie your heels from around your legs. You were being surprisingly docile while he did this. Probably because you were about ready to pass out.

After he got your shoes off, he grabbed both sides of your pants to pull them off your legs.

You giggled again. “Do you know how many margaritas it would take for me to open my legs?”

How could he know that? But he’d play along. “No. How many?”

You motioned for him to lean closer to you which he did. “None.”

You decided to drop your legs at this moment, revealing your panties and fat cunt to him. Your lips had all but swallowed up the fabric, juices soaking them.

He could feel his cock jump at the sight. How were you already that wet?

Focus, Jimin! Get her dressed and get her water.

Shaking his head to try and clear his thoughts of fucking you into the mattress, he reached down to undo the buttons of your blouse next, trying to ignore the bedroom eyes you were sending him as he did so. You barely helped him actually get the shirt off, your arms trying to pull him back down to kiss you again. Sliding an arm under your back, he lifted you up so that he could slip your shirt off of you. Thankfully, you weren’t wearing a bra, just boob tape holding them up. Good thing he’s watched you take it off so he knew what to do.

20 minutes later and Jimin had managed to get you into the bathroom to clean off your makeup, remove the boob tape, and get you into your muu-muu before getting you back into the bed.

Now he could give you the attention you so desperately needed.

On your side, leg thrown over his shoulder and his weight pushing down on you, his cock was stretching out your begging cunt.

The alcohol in your system was only making your pleasure feel ever more powerful, waves of buzzing euphoria flowing over your body.

“Hmmmm, yeah baby….just like thaaaaatttt…” You moaned, one of your arms wrapped around Jimin’s shoulders and hand tangled in his soft hair.

Both of his fists were on either side of you, holding himself up, hips trying to push his cock deeper and deeper into your pussy. He was weak. Weak for you. He thought he would be able to make it, maybe get you to take a nap and let you sober up a little before you had sex. But you weren’t having it. All he did was turn his back to grab your bonnet and you were pulling your panties to the side, giving him an unhindered view of your leaking folds. How could he not latch his lips around your clit and make you scream? It was impossible. You were impossible but he wouldn’t have it any other way.

Now both of you were 2 orgasms in and ready to burst.

His cock was touching the deepest parts of you, the head almost touching your cervix and the veins rubbing up against your most sensitive spots. Your arousal soaked walls hugging his cock and pushing him to the brink of madness. You were like an angel sent just for him, everything about you perfect in his eyes. He was obsessed with you in the best of ways.

And god, your pussy was like his own slice of heaven.

That feeling began to build in your tummy once again, another orgasm just inches from you.

You tossed your head back against the pillows, fingers gripping Jimin’s nape to pull him closer to you. His hot breath fanned over your face, plump lips dropped open to let gasps and groans pass.

“I fucking love this cock….you’re so deep.”

“Yeah? You like this cock, baby?”

You nodded your head, eyes shut in ecstasy as you focused on your impending orgasm. Your whole body felt floaty. Jimin’s cock was scrambling your already buzzed brain, his heated skin against yours relaxing your bones even further.

Jimin ran his lips up your sweaty throat, your brown skin smelling like Thank U, Next, your favorite perfume nowadays. “Touch yourself.” He whispered against your skin.

You shakily reached down to press two fingers against your neglected nub. Your toes curled, the stimulation propelling you right to the edge.

“That’s it. Faster. Make yourself cum.” He sat up on his haunches, using his hand to push his hair back out of his face. A simple movement he did often but in this situation, it made him look ten times sexier. Sweat dripped down his bare chest, abs flexing and muscles in his arms shifting around. Fuck, you wanted to bite him.

He grabbed the leg that was over his shoulder, pressing a few kisses to your calf before pulling your hips up so that he could really start pounding into you.

The feeling of his cock bullying your walls paired with your fingers on your clit and you were about ready to ascend.

Jimin almost thought he was dreaming. You just looked so ethereal while locked in pleasure. Your glowing skin, bouncing breasts, eyes rolling and mouth dropped open to let calls of his name out. Fuck, you were breathtaking. His eyes went down to where you were connected, your cunt leaving his cock coated in a shiny sheen. You were practically dripping, your arousal dripping down between your ass cheeks and staining the sheets.

He dropped your leg to lean down over your body, hands moving to both sides of your head. You adjusted yourself to be fully on your back which allowed his cock to reach even deeper, your legs wrapping around his waist.

His strokes were long and deep, his bottom lip pulled between his teeth.

“Kiss me….please baby.” You begged, puckering your lips. He happily obliged, pressing sloppy pecks to your waiting pout. “M’gunna cummmm, cumming baby. Harder.” You were breathless, lungs struggling to pull oxygen into your body. Jimin invaded your senses—his scent, his body heat, the feeling of his affection and intimacy. You felt so good under him, in his embrace and covered by his love.

Wrapping both of his hands around your throat, he began driving his cock in and out of your dripping pussy. Your hands gripped at his arms, running your nails down the skin and leaving red streaks in its wake. Your throat burned from the scream you let out, head lifting to get a look at where he was entering you. Just the sight of his cock moving in and out, covered in your arousal and the creamy ring around the base, was enough to propel you right off the edge.

His own resolve was starting to crumble. Your pussy just felt too good. Pulling his lip between his teeth, he hissed, “shit, you feel so good…love this pussy.” He was pushing his hips harder and harder into you, the backs of your thighs starting to burn from from the constant contact.

It felt like he was shaking your thoughts loose. You weren’t drunk on mimosas anymore, now you’re drunk on your man’s dick. If you could bottle and drink this feeling, they’d have to admit you to a rehab.

Back arching, your orgasm full body absorbed you. Your vision blurred, waves of endless pleasure cascading over you and sending you straight to the King. Your hands went to his waist, digging your nails into the skin there. He hissed at the sting but it only made his cock throb.

You hadn’t even come down before Jimin was flipping your weak body over, pulling your hips up so you were in doggy style. You let out a breath now that you could breathe. His hands gripped your love handles, using them to yank you back on his cock.

With this position, you could feel every ridge and inch of him, the head of his cock pushing into your abused soft spot.

Drool leaked from the corners of your mouth, your eyes rolling back and hands practically ripping the pillow under you.

Jimin gritted his teeth as your walls constricted around him, trying to milk him for everything he was worth.

“Bout to cum. Fuck, bout to fill this pussy up.”

Pleasure sparked down his back as you gushed around him, more wetness leaking from you and soaking the backs of your thighs and his cock.

With a few more thrusts, he was pulling your ass back until he was buried all the way in your cunt, shooting his cum into your pulsing pussy. His orgasm was enough to make you cum again, your hips jumping trying to run from him but his hands held you still.

He leaned down until his chest was pressed into your back. “Stop running. Take it.” He grunted in your ear and you wondered if you could marry someone again while already being married to them.

After a few minutes of resting, Jimin sluggishly lifted himself from your back, lifting his hand to push his sweaty hair back. Now both of you would need a nice, long bath.

“Baby? Are you okay?” He noticed you’ve yet to move, not even a groan from him resting on your back like you normally did. He tapped your shoulder, still no movement.

Then he moved your locs that had covered your face to the side, finding your relaxed and resting face. You had fallen asleep. Of course.

He sighed, tapping you again. “Baby, get up. You should get cleaned up.” Still nothing.

Later after you woke up from a long nap, you found Jimin in the kitchen making a late lunch. The first thing you noticed were the red streaks across his back and arms. Wow, you didn’t even remember doing that.

You approached him, wrapping your arms around his waist, pressing a light kiss to his shoulder.

“Finally awake? How do you feel?”

You shrugged. “Fine. A little sore but nothing I can’t handle.”

He hummed and you two stood in silence for a moment before he broke it.

“How many drinks did you have?”

5 margaritas. That’s how many it took.

[janesociety]

can you please do a james potter x reader where reader is always patching james up from quidditch injuries and comforting him in the hospital wing and stuff but roles are reversed when he's trying to teach you quidditch and reader gets a minor injury (sprained ankle or something). cue overprotective jamie & platonic marauders fluff<3

oh! darling

james potter x reader

type: fluff

word count: 2.4k

summary: after years of you taking care of james, it was finally his turn.

warnings: reader has sprained ankle, references to slightly worse injuries

notes: i am so incredibly sorry this took so long i don’t even have an excuse

masterlist

𝜗𝜚

You were never all that big a fan of flying. Being on a broom just never felt sturdy to you and you weren’t all that crazy about heights either. It wasn’t exactly that you were afraid per say, you just chose to avoid them when possible.

With a boyfriend like James Potter, you knew it would one day no longer be avoidable.

James, while on one hand being the most responsible, smart, and caring person you knew, was also the clumsiest.

You lost count on the number of times you’d had to walk him from the Quidditch Pitch to the infirmary for an injury. Sometimes he sustained them at a practice, a game- hell, sometimes he would just be flying around for fun and manage to throw himself from his broom. It became such a common occurrence, you now had your own little pharmacy under the sink in your dorm so you could fix some of his minor injuries up there. Then of course there were his more major injuries- like the time he broke his foot when it was smashed between the stadium wall and a bludger or when he got a concussion when he and Sirius slammed into each other when messing around. During those times, you’d sit with him in the hospital wing and keep him company. You were always sure to spend your free periods with him, catch him up on school work, bring him food- anything he needed.

To be honest, as much as you hated him getting hurt, you treasured some of those moments in the hospital wing when it was just the two of you being together.

When you woke up on that Saturday morning to James no longer next to you in his bed, you were confused. You’d both agreed the day before that neither of you wanted to go to Hogsmeade that weekend and you knew James didn’t have any Quidditch practice. You rolled out of his bed, finding one of his sweaters in his trunk and throwing it on. You made your way to the mostly empty common room- most people were already at breakfast so they could eat before leaving for Hogsmeade- and found Lily buried in her books at a corner table.

“Hey, Lils,” you said, sliding into a seat across from her.

“Hey,” she said, her eyes not looking up from the page of the herbology textbook she was reading. You leaned awkwardly back in your seat, not exactly wanting to disturb her, but not knowing what to do with yourself when you didn’t know where any of your other friends were and you were feeling just a bit too lazy to look.

“Sorry,” she said, finally looking up at you and sitting back. “I haven’t had time to study recently- I’m hoping to catch up today while everyone’s at Hogsmeade.”

“No- no, you’re fine, I can leave if you want,” you said quickly. “Have you seen James?”

“Him and Sirius walked out of here an hour ago looking for Marlene and Dorcas and I haven’t seen them sense,” she said, rolling her eyes. “They seemed overly excited, per usual. I think they were up to something.”

“God, maybe I don’t want to look for him anymore,” you said, laughing through a yawn.

Your wish was granted- not exactly in the way you wanted- as the porthole swung open as James and Sirius marched in with their hands full. It took you a minute to see what they were holding- Sirius was holding a large box that you quickly recognized as a chest that held all the different Quidditch balls and James was holding three brooms. Three.

“Oh, darling, you’re up,” he said, gently setting down the brooms next to you and kissing your head. “We were gonna come up and get you.” He wrapped his arms around your neck from behind you and rested his head on your shoulder. You made weary eye contact with Lily at the sight of the brooms. You hummed.

“What’re the brooms for?” you asked, recognizing only one of them as his. He chuckled in your ear, his breath tickling your skin.

“Quidditch, darling, what else?” he said, pecking your cheek after. He was always affectionate, but you could tell he was getting ready to question you about something.

“Oh,” you said, turning your head to see Sirius running up the stairs to the dorm.

“Me and Pads were thinking-“ well that’s never good- “that maybe you would come out to the pitch with us today and fly around a bit?” Your eyes went wide.

“James, I- you know I hate flying,” you said, turning to look at him. He loosened his arms to allow you to move.

“I know! I know, but I was thinking if me and Pads were there to help you out, you might feel better,” he said, massaging your shoulder. “I thought it could be fun.” You looked to Lily for help but she gave you a good luck look and quickly buried herself back into her books. “Please, love?”

“Fine.”

“Come on, darling!” James yelled from above you. “You’re gonna do great!” You resisted the urge to flip him off at his well-meaning encouragement.

You’d flown before, of course- it was a class after all. So you knew what you were doing, you just didn’t want to be doing it.

“Oh, the things I do for you,” you muttered under your breath as you began levitating off the ground. It took you a moment to get used to the sensation before you floated up to the level James and Sirius were at. Your hands were gripping the broom so hard your knuckles were white. It was less of you being scared of the broom and more not trusting yourself to be able to adequately operate it.

“You’re doing great,” James said, flying up next to you with a quaffle tucked under his arm. He reached out his free hand to take yours but you shook your head.

“I’m sorry, but no,” you said, cracking a smile and staring at his hand. He chuckled, reaching over and patting your shoulder- the act making you squeak at the feeling of being slightly unbalanced.

“Sorry!” he said quickly, laughing at how the blood had rushed to your face. “You’re alright, darling, you’re not gonna fall.” You let out a huff. “I won’t let you fall, how about that?” You smiled at him. “Alright, c’mon.” He motioned for you to follow him and you did, heading over to where Sirius was flying in circles.

“Finally!” he groaned, stopping as you two approached. “I don’t know why you’re so worried, Y/N. You were good at it in first year when we had to take the class.”

“I never liked it,” you said, pointing and flexing your feet to get used to the feeling of them not touching the ground. “But I can do it.”

“Okay, okay, finally ready to play?” Sirius asked, motioning for James to throw him the quaffle.

They explained the game. It was basically modified Quidditch so that it could be played with one ball and three people. It was decided that you would be goalkeeper first- which you were grateful for. The rules were James and Sirius were both trying to score on you, but when they intercepted the ball, they had to go back to the center. James used a charm to create foggy lines of smoke in the air where the centerline was because “Sirius is a big cheater so we need to be able to see.”

It was fun, actually. You surprised yourself with how quickly you picked up the skills you’d thought you’d forgotten. You were able to hold your own in the goal, blocking almost all their shots- even after they stopped going easy on you.

“You’re letting him win!” Sirius groaned after James scored for the third time. “This isn’t fair! You’re biased.” You rolled your eyes.

“You should know me well enough to know I’d help James lose before I’d help him win,” you said.

“Hey! I can hear you!” James yelled from farther back, tossing the ball to Sirius.

“Yeah, yeah, just get going,” you said, flying lazily around one of the goal posts. You were still moving pretty slow, the fear of falling still not totally dissipating, but you could keep up with them so far.

The games soon started again, Sirius being extra as ever and doing small spins around the stadium as James tried to chase him around. When Sirius took a shot, James raced in before you could catch it and dashed back to the centerline.

“Show off,” you muttered sarcastically as he whipped past you and sent you a goofy grin. You couldn’t help but smile at him.

You got somewhat bored when their back and forth went on just a little too long, and found yourself staring mindlessly around you. The wind was whipping your hair around your head and you were somewhat dreading what it would look like when you-

“Y/N!”

You didn’t have time to react before something hard collided with your head. You were exactly sure what was happening, but you felt everything spin and the wind picked up. You couldn’t figure out if you were dizzy or falling. When you felt your broom slip out from under you, you decided it was probably both. The simple realization you were falling from so high was enough to make your stomach start doing somersaults faster than the rest of your body was.

James immediately went into a nose dive the second he saw you slip. He was already dashing over to you before you fell- seeing the path of the ball that had left his hands seconds before. Sirius was behind him, shouting an incantation you couldn’t hear between the blood rushing to your ears and the air passing you. You slowed suddenly, the spell Sirius had cast finally taking effect, but not soon enough.

You crumpled to the ground, letting out a gasp.

“Y/N!” James yelled, stumbling off his broom and rushing towards you. “Y/N, hey, hey,” he said, brushing your hair out of your face. Your eyes were squeezed shut and your face was pinched with pain as you gripped your ankle.

“I’m- I’m alright,” you said, shakily, your eyes still closed. You tried to move but let out a pained gasp when you moved your leg.

“Oh, Y/N,” he said, cupping your face. You opened your eyes to see the fear and worry contorting his face as he looked at you. Seeing him fuss over you almost felt worse than your foot. “Don’t move,” he said, carefully tucking his arms under you and pulling you up so he could carry you. You tried not to grimace as your ankle flopped around from the jerkiness of the lift.

“I’m fine, James,” you said, the grip you had on his shoulder betraying your words.

“Just hold still, yeah?” he said, his worry for you evident on the crease between his brows. “I’ll get you up to the infirmary.”

Sirius was quick to run after the two of you, holding all three brooms under his arm.

“Alright, Y/N?” he asked as he walked in step with James.

“Yep,” you said, grimacing as James bounced you around a little too hard.

“Sorry- sorry,” he said, doing his best to hold you as still as possible as he started walking up the hill towards the castle. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s alright, James, it’s not your fault,” you said, leaning your head on his shoulder.

There was silence

“So, you reckon I’ll get an offer from Puddlemore next year?”

Sirius snorted.

“Oh, definitely, but they’ll be fighting offers from the Cannons and Harpies, too,” Sirius said. “But Puddlemore will give you the best offer, so you should play for them.”

“Maybe I'll just go wherever James gets an offer for,” you said as you all stepped inside the castle.

“Poor lad won’t get nearly as many as you,” Sirius said, shaking his head.

James chuckled hesitantly as you arrived at the infirmary, clearly trying to avoid the guilt gnawing at his stomach.

Madam Pomfrey was quick to usher you to a bed with a quick “Why is it always you lot?” and a wave of her wand.

James sat you down and was quick to grab your hand as you adjusted yourself on the bed. He sat on the edge of the hard wooden chair next to your bed. His hands cupped yours as his eyes glared daggers into your ankle.

“I should… I'll go put the brooms away,” Sirius said awkwardly, shifting from foot to foot. You nodded and he was out of there in the next moment.

“Jamie,” you said. He wasn’t looking at you. “James,” you said again, squeezing his hand. His eyes finally met yours, and you couldn’t find the words to describe the look of hurt on his face. “I’m alright.”

“I know,” he said shakily, a breathy chuckle coming from his mouth. “I know.”

“And it’s not your fault,” you said. He looks away from you again.

“I’m really sorry,” he said, the pain clear on his face even as he faced away from you. If there’s one thing that hurts James Potter more than seeing his loved ones in pain, it’s being the one that caused the pain.

“If I accept your apology will you stop moping?”

James laughed, his head ducking down and eyes crinkling at the sides. He brought your hand up to his lips, resting them on your knuckles before peppering kisses all over your hand.

“I truly don’t deserve you,” he said, smiling softly at you.

“Don’t go all soft on me now just because I’m injured,” you groaned as he moved to peck your cheek a few times.

[nori-writes]

Sweet Country Lovin’

Cole Cassidy x Reader

W/C: 750+

A/N: Oh? Another one? This soon? Does this mean I’m fully coming back? Idk either. Sorry :’) But hopefully it’s a yes. It’s currently 1:20 AM while I type this and I need to be up at 5:50 AM so, I guess I’d better hurry up. I also just realized how many requests I have….. I don’t know what I’m doing here writing my own shit…. I should be doing requests- 😭

Also, I haven’t proof read this. Oops.

The sun rose, the same as every morning. There was nothing particularly special about today except the fact that both you and Cole had the day off. It wasn’t a common occurrence but a nice one when the time came.

These days were never spent doing much except staying around the house. A load or two of laundry would’ve been the most to get done on those days, not that it was a bad thing.

Days where you were both off consisted of you two lying around the house together, whether you two were doing the same thing or separate things you still typically sat in each other's company. Anything but work.

Thank god that today was one of these said days, it was much deserved and needed, missions felt like they had been running longer recently with less rest time in between, leaving you and Cole almost no time together except the typical meals that the two of you tended to share.

As your eyes opened slowly as you sat up, your vision blurry and you rubbed the sleep away you went to turn to meet your boyfriend who usually occupied the spot next to you to find that he had already made his way out of bed. Unusual for him.

You pulled the covers off of your body and got yourself out of bed fixing your hair with the brush that sat on your nightstand before opening your bedroom door. When you opened the door you were hit with the smell of pancakes, sausage and maple syrup.

Following the smell you found yourself in the kitchen where Cole looked to be setting a tray with the food he had made, god how lucky you were. It was obvious that he was going to bring you breakfast in bed but alas, you were awake now. So instead you slipped behind him, laying your head into his back, wrapping your arms around his torso.

“Well, mornin’ sweet pea,” he spoke in a soft voice, his body melting into your touch as he still put food onto the tray. There was a small moment of silence before he spoke again, “I was gonna bring you breakfast in bed but it looks like you’re not sleepin’ anymore.”

You nodded and you spoke for the first time this morning, your voice coming out groggy, “Well, why are you still putting food onto the tray then?” You questioned curiously.

The cowboy turned his body all the way around so now he was actually facing you, he stopped for a minute to take in your morning state. It was something Cole would tell you he loved about you. How it was you, completely unfiltered. He loved the way your hair wasn’t perfect and how his shirt was a little too big on you, the way you were extra clingy in the mornings, the way that he could just stare at you for hours in the morning and be completely content. Though, you’d usually brush it off everytime he said it, telling him he was going crazy.

Finally he spoke, “Well, I was thinkin’ we can both get cozy back in bed with some breakfast and turn on a movie for a lazy mornin’. How’s that sound?”

You nodded, that sounded amazing right now, “Please.”

“Well that’s all the answer I needed darlin’. Why don’t you get back into bed and pick out a movie for the two of us to watch? I’ll be back there in just a minute, alright?”

“Will do.”

You gave a small smile before Cole leaned down to leave a kiss on your lips, “Now don’t go fallin’ asleep on me while I’m out here doin’ this.”

You returned the kiss, the taste of the coffee and a cigar he had this morning stained onto his lips, “I would never.”

Some minutes passed and you had made your way back to the shared bedroom while you picked out a movie Cole finished up getting breakfast together for the two of you.

Not so soon after your lover made his way back to the bedroom with a tray of food for the two of you to share, unfortunately, you had fallen back asleep.

All the cowboy could do was set the tray of food back in the kitchen before coming back into the bedroom, slipping into his side of the bed, wrapping his arms around you, pulling you into him, pressing a kiss onto the top of your head.

Sometimes things didn’t always go as planned but that doesn’t mean the outcome isn’t always as good, and this was one of those things. Perfect in its own way.

As always if you enjoyed I’ve got the good ol’ dandy Masterlist is here.

[anime-owo-kage-san]

Husk rescuing Angel from Valentino or pretty much any danger in general is still my favorite —incredibly common but still favorite— huskerdust trope. Especially, him (whether in comics or in fanfics) carrying Angel in his arms and flying to safety —Aaaah! 🥺 That’s a whole fluffy dessert for me!

I try to find and read every fanfic and comic I see (AU or canon-divergent), especially the ones where Husk wins Angel’s contract from Valentino.

I know Angel Dust shouldn’t be subjected to being a damsel in distress, because there is more to his character. But, like… come on. While the sweet thing doesn’t really need protection, he needs to feel and know somebody will do it anyway.

Ofc, this is just my craving in fanworks.

As for canon and what I actually want to see happen in the show, to get Angel free from his contract:

1.) Angel shoots/stabs/etc. Val from the fucking front (with some slight hesitance because he technically ruined his clean-streak for doing it).

Oooor, what I like better, bc it involves Huskerdust:

2.) Husk invites both Angel and Valentino somewhere private, to make a bet through poker.

Husk: “One round of poker. You lose, Angel’s soul no longer belongs to you. You win, you get to keep his contract.”

Angel panics and tries to knock some sense into Husk, even though Valentino is disinterested in the whole thing and was going to say no anyway, but plot twist ——>

Angel: “Do I have to slap the fucking White Knight Syndrome outta ya!? I told ya, ya crazy motherfucker! I can handle myself!”

Husk: *smiles* “I know.” *hands Angel his the deck of cards* “Which is why I’m letting you, handle this. Go win your soul back, Legs.”

Angel: *shocked* “B-But that’s even worse! I only beat you, like… once in this game!”

Husk: “And you only need to beat Valentino once too. I know you can do it. But, if you think you can’t, well….” *smirks* “That’s why I’m here.”

Angel: “What do you mean…?”

Husk: “Since you suck at valuing yourself so much, I thought of giving you a better motivation to work with.”

Angel: “Better motivation…?”

Husk: *turns to Valentino* “There’s more; if you win, you not only get to keep Angel, but you get to have my soul too.”

Angel: “HUSK!”

Valentino: “HA! And why would I want the soul of a old rundown alley cat?”

Husk: “My soul is owned by Alastor. Imagine what Vox would think, about the idea of Alastor losing one of his souls to you.”

Angel: “Does Smiles know about this deal yer makin’ right now!?”

Husk: “Yes, he does. And he agreed to it.”

Valentino: *still disinterested* “Not convinced, gatito. You’re still not rubbing me the right way~”

Husk: “I’m not done. I’m not like any other soul, he owns.”

Valentino: “Mmhmm…”

Husk: “I have some information on why he disappeared for seven years. Not the complete context, but it’s still a big secret he definitely wouldn’t want any other overlords to find out about.”

Valentino: “Oh? Well, now that’s interesting. Voxxy would be pleased to hear anything about the radio demon.”

Angel: “Okay, does Smiles know about THAT!?”

Husk: “Hm? Nope. I’m completely fucked if he finds out I told the Vees what I know. He’ll definitely tear my soul apart and broadcast my screams longer than anyone else’s….”

Valentino: “I take it you want protection?”

Husk: “No. Not necessary. If my soul gets handed off to you, and I give you the needed information, you’re not obliged to protect me.”

Valentino: “Now you’re talking my language, gatito~ Game on. Come Angel! Prepare to lose your little boyfriend over here.”

Angel: *ignores Val and grabs Husk by the shoulders* “Husk! We’re leaving now! I don’t want anything horrible to happen to you!”

Husk: “And nothing will happen to me. I know you can do this. Or…. Am I being too full of myself to think you’d give your all for me?”

Angel: “Wh-What…?”

Husk: “I get it. We may be getting used to each other, but I’m not all that important enough to you!”

Angel: “Bullshit!” *grabs him by the suspenders* “You go through so much for my sake! What makes you think I won’t do the same!? I’d go through this hell twice, just to repay all the times you had to deal with me!”

Husk: *smiles softly and places a hand on his cheek* “Then go win this game, Legs.”

(Basically, instead of rescuing Angel himself, Husk tricks Angel into finally getting out of his contract, by putting his own life on the line).

[lilbeanz]

Hello! NEW FAN HERE! I hope u have a wonderful day, AS WONDERFUL AS YOUR WORK!! Rlly! I LO VE IT! I just founded 4 days ago and I haven’t stop since. Girl were should I star?

First book­­ - SO REFRESHING! A Draco who still behaves like the child he grew up to being and not noticing the social cues? *Chefs kiss* all the book I was like: noooooo pls baby boy! Date cuenta! Not like dat!!

Second book – you telling me that Draco is the possessed now?!! GRL IM ON IT!! Yes! So sad and so good at the same time! The valentine day made me think, IT WOULD make sense for Draco to send the poem, also Pansy! Haha rlly clever of her to make him do that! I scream all the time (like it was happening to me LOL) AND THE FINAL? God! How I hate Lucius! Like “oh really? That's your reaction? LITTLE DRAGON NEEDS A HUG Goddamit!”

Third Book – THIS! This is what I begin to read ur work! THIS IS WHY I PAY MY INTERNET BILL! YES!! Abba? ABBA?!!! I read all the book listening to Voulez Vous! Thank U very much! The trauma with the quills and the ink? And then Hermione gifting stationary? Omg cute! Yule day? I love the time alone with Harry. Now, Chiquitita? CHIQUITITA? I died and revived at the same time, the realization of the FELLINGS? Girl I feel that! and the end? THEY CAPTURE PETTIGREW? YES!!! FINALLY! THAT’S MY CANON! The last dance make me giggle like crazy, so happy :,)

Fourth Book – If the third made me love it, the FOURTH MADE ME WANT TO PROPOSE! I love everything! Tonks family? I was so happy with that! Narcissa choosing his son and begin to live a common life? QUEEN! Homesick feelings were understandable. NOW! ERIK? God, I love him, such a gentleman! Yule ball? 10000/10 from Hermione and Pancy preparation, Draco suit, the canary dance, THE BI PANIC??? Hahaha LOVE EVERYTHING! And the after party? So funny! I loved Dumbledor's reaction with it and the Golden Snitget! Denial Draco is the best! Make me laugh so much (I can relate LOL) AND JEALOUS HARRY?? HAHAHA serves him right! Muajajaj and Veela powers? Hahahaha that’s my other canon. The lasts parts make sad for the fight and the depression (How I hate Harry for that) but at the same time was happy for the outcome Heheheh BI Harry is so funny!

NOW! I BEGIN WITH THE 5TH LIKE… 4 Hours ago LOL, SO FAR! SO GOOD!  I’m in my working hours and all the time I was giggling. Ngl the tags of harassment scared me but if u put a warning I can be prepared. So far, I love all Ch2, the interactions were everything hehe, Kreacher make me laugh, I hope there is an interaction with Walburga's painting too (is not necessary or anything, if there is no one, for me is still an excellent work)

Finally, I really love JDT! please KEEP GOING! U ARE A GREAT WRITER! AND NOTHING TO SAY ABOUT YOUR DRAWINGS OTHER THAN THEY ARE BEAUTIFUL! I was watching them at the same time I was reading. I’m so ready for Ch 5 and more! Do you have any schedule for the uploads? If not is OK, please take your time with them if u need it, bc so far this is a wonderful work and it's worth the wait.

Babes I am a puddle 🥹❤️

This is such a lovely encompassing comment for the series so far! I am SO glad you're enjoying the story hehe. I hope YOU have a wonderful day too💖

The second hand embarrassment in some scenes, especially the Valentine's Fiasco of '93, is so cringy I knowww🫣 (just try and stop me)

Our boy has grown so much 🥲

And Welcome to the cult!!!! Have a mandatory biscuit! 🍪

In this household we enjoy the silly goofy ahh shenanigans ✨️

[memoriashell]

another year, another birthday tweet...i actually really (mostly) liked this year's message, so i prioritized working on it asap. lol. one day i'll get around to doing some of the ones from the previous years, but not today. also bc twitter is a ticking time bomb and i am doing my part in archiving content o7

disclaimer, i’m not fluent in japanese, so i’m not claiming that this is perfect or potentially not without misunderstandings. i’ve also included some translation notes to clarify some things that i felt needed clarification and to offer explanation as to why i reached the conclusions that i did.

i'll also have everything under the cut for easier accessability! sorry if there are typos it is almost midnight as i schedule this up for tomorrow >.>

--

大和田

「あぁ？誕生日だぁ？ Ah? [My] birthday?

やめろや、恥ずかしい。Quit that, [it’s] embarrassing. **

オレは日本最大最狂最悪の暴行チームの頭だぞ？I’m the leader of Japan’s most biggest, craziest gang, you know? ***

こんな事で喜んだ姿を見せてられっかよ……け���、まぁオメーらにだったらいいかもな。 [I’m] not sure if I can show how happy I am [for this sort of thing]...but, well, maybe it’s okay [to show that emotion] if it’s just you guys, right? ****

兄弟からも『本当の強さとは弱さを見せられる相手を持つ事だ』って忠告されたばっかだしな 」 “True strength is to have somebody to show your weaknesses to.” That’s the advice that Kyoudai gave me.

//

** やめろ generally is translated as stop it, but the や emphasis at the end gives the idea of this being a little more intense, which is generally on point for Mondo. To try and get across that it’s more than just a normal stop it, I decided to translate it as quit it instead. 

恥ずかしい just generally translates as being embarrassed or that something is embarrassing, so contextually you could read this as “Stop that, it’s embarrassing [that you’re celebrating]”, or “Quit that, I’m embarrassed [that you’re celebrating me]”. I went with the former because in the overall context that one made the most sense to me, but I think it’s probably okay to read it either way.

*** Okay this one was a bit of a doozy to try and make sense of, because 最大 is biggest, 最 is most, 狂 depends on context but one of the more common ways is to describe someone who is crazy enthusiastic about something, and 最悪 is for worst/terrible. It didn’t seem like there was an easy way to translate this without it becoming a mouthful and also not really making much sense, so I tried to compromise in the translation. 

As a bonus fun fact, since I cross referenced it trying to figure out how to translate,  最大最悪 is used for infamous: the biggest, most awful [most tragic event in human history] line in DR.

The other issue with this line is that uhm. I am hoping Kodaka just accidentally made a typo? 暴行 (boukou), I am hoping, was supposed to actually be bousouzoku (暴走族), which is the term used for referring to Mondo’s gang/deliquent activities. 暴行 is a word that can be associated with violence, but specifically SA. Sorry that I have to bring this up. Anyways, I tried to google to see if there was perhaps some slang I was missing (including the チーム/team from the original tweet), but that really only gave results for things related to sports teams and SA. Considering that as far as I could tell, no one on the JP side said anything about it, it might be something just lost in translation? But even searching the term on twitter didn’t seem to suggest that it’s a term used commonly so I don’t think it’s like a fan abreviation for bousozoku >> boukou. Anyways this god awful tangent aside, I’m working with the assumption that we’re talking about biking!!  Please know I was this close to giving up on this tweet because I did not want to have to explain this mess.

**** Okay so like this part is pretty straightforward, but I figured I’d give a few note anyways:

The first part of the sentance here technically is skepticisim about being able to show delight, but hesitates to say that it’s okay to do so. The following sentence builds on that, which suggests that he believes that showing happiness over celebrating his birthday would be weak, but because he takes what Kiyotaka has said as advice, he presumably takes it into consideration. 

It should be noted that 相手 is usually translated to like companion, partner, or company (singular), so I considered translated it as friend but, I opted to leave it a little more vague and use somebody instead. It seems intentional that it is supposed to be a very narrow translation instead implying that this is something that should be conveyed to anyone/everyone. In conclusion, the train of thought is something like: I’m a gang leader >> It’s embarrassing to be celebrating birthday’s >> I can’t show that emotion.

Then with the following sentence: There’s strength in showing weakness >> It might be weak to show emotion but that’s okay >> I can show that emotion around some people.

[just-dreaming-marvel]

Caught In A Web ~ 27

CAUGHT IN A WEB MASTERLIST

< previous chapter

Word Count: 1,661ish

Summary: Natasha is fed up with everyone's bullshit. You get FRIDAY to spill some of the secrets.

Notes: This chapter is a little shorter than the last few, but that's fine. Let me know your thoughts!

“I’m over it! Now they want Wanda and Vision over in Malibu!” Natasha was shouting as she paced the common room. Wanda and Vision sat together on one couch while Bruce sat in a nearby chair. “This is idiotic! None of them know how to build a house, not even Tony! Besides, Tony is claiming it’s for Y/N, but the two haven’t spoken in weeks! Weeks!”

“Exactly 18 days,” Vision added.

“Not helping, dear,” Wanda told him softly, patting his arm.

“I’m going out there,” Natasha stated. “You all are staying here with Y/N because we can’t lose any more teammates to Tony’s craziness.”

“Are you sure that that’s a smart idea?” Asked Bruce. “Maybe we give them more time. They could be—“

“They’ve had enough time and have gotten completely nowhere. I’m taking a quinjet and leaving. Wanda’s in charge.” Natasha stormed out.

“Well, I wouldn’t want to be any of them when Natasha gets there.”

~~~

Natasha left without telling you, but you knew where she was heading. You could tell she was fed up with the men on the Team and was going to fix their mess. It was now late at night, and you were fed up with the secrets. You wanted to know what was actually going on in Malibu, so you went to Tony’s lab.

“FRIDAY?” You called, shutting the lab door and locking it.

“Yes, Miss L/N?” FRIDAY responded.

“I know that Tony is having you block me from the news and from what they are doing in Malibu, but I need to know. I need to know the news so I can begin to handle it and not be scared of it. I need to know what’s happening in Malibu. I need to know if Tony’s okay.”

FRIDAY took a moment to respond, almost like the AI had a choice of whether or not it listened to the orders given by Tony. You waited with bated breath, trying to keep your nervousness at bay.

“I have pulled up the file about the news outlets,” FRIDAY finally said as one of the hologram tables came to life. “Please let me know if you need any assistance.”

Slowly, you headed over to the table and sat down. You began to read through the headlines.

STARK DATING A CHILD

SUGAR DADDY STARK & SUGAR BABY L/N

STARK DATES A NOBODY

WHO IS Y/N L/N, AND HOW DID SHE LAND STARK?

IS Y/N L/N PREGNANT WITH TONY STARK’S CHILD?

You read a few of the articles and watched a few of the news clips. Tears ran down your cheeks as you took in the criticism and hatred, wishing that Tony was by your side. You understood why he protected you from this and were thankful for it. You wouldn’t have been able to handle it when the news broke out at first, but now you were putting the work into handling it better.

As you continued to scroll through, you realized it was going in chronological order. Suddenly you saw news articles and videos about Tony. The headlines had changed.

STARK IN LOVE

STARK STANDS UP FOR HIS GIRL

STARK REQUESTING PRIVACY AT THIS TIME

All the articles said the same thing, that Tony had made a statement about your relationship. You had no idea and began to read it.

As a public figure since birth, I understand that my life often becomes a point of intrigue and discussion. However, I believe certain aspects of my personal life should remain private out of respect for those involved. I am Tony Stark, and I do not need to explain myself to you, but I will explain anything needed to protect those I love.

Yes, it is true that I am in a relationship with Y/N L/N. Yes, she is younger than me, but that doesn’t matter. She is intelligent and kind and has brought immense joy into my life. I am deeply in love with her. She is my world, and I will do anything to protect her.

At this time, I am asking for your understanding and respect as we navigate our lives together. It is important to me to protect her from undue scrutiny and to allow our relationship to flourish away from the public eye. I will do what is necessary to stop the harmful opinions being thrown her way.

Tony Stark

You couldn’t help but cry harder. Tony stood up for you, telling the world he loved you. He was trying to make sure that you were safe from the public’s continuous comments. 

“FRIDAY, is Tony in Malibu?” You asked, hoping for an answer.

“Yes,” the AI responded.

“Can you prep a quinjet for me? I need a flight plan to Malibu, wherever Tony is… Please… I need to see him. I need to talk to him.”

“Miss—quinjet—15—Malibu—inform—Boss—“

“FRIDAY?” You stood up as FRIDAY cut in and out. The lights around the lab began flickering. “FRIDAY!” The lights completely cut out suddenly. You rushed to the lab doors to get out, but they wouldn’t unlock. “Help! Wanda! Vision! Bruce! Someone!”

The screens behind you came to life. Before you could even turn around, you could see the red light. Your heart was pounding against your chest as you slowly turned to face the screens. Air caught in your throat as the HYDRA symbol shone back at you, and a familiar, rough voice bounced through the room.

“Hail Hydra.”

~~~

“There’s a quinjet incoming,” Sam stated.

“It’s probably Wanda and Viz,” said Steve. “Tony wanted them here.”

“I don’t know why they haven’t been here the whole time. They could be doing all the heavy lifting.”

The quinjet landed, and the lamp lowered. All the men but Tony stopped to see who would walk down it. Natasha marched down the ramp, a determined look on her face.

“Shit,” Bucky muttered. “We’re all screwed.”

“You idiots!” Natasha shouted.

“Here we go,” Rhodey mumbled.

“You are not contractors or construction workers! You needed to talk Tony out of this, not help him build this!”

“Bucky started it,” Sam quickly blamed.

“Hey!” Bucky exclaimed. “I didn’t see any of you try to talk some sense into the man!”

“Because you had already got his sights on us building a house!”

“You didn’t—“

“Enough!” Natasha screamed. “I’m done with you all. Where is he?”

They all pointed towards the downstairs building site. They watched in complete silence as Natasha marched off. They waited until they couldn’t see or hear her anymore before anyone spoke up.

“She’s frightening,” Sam whispered.

“Just wait until Tony fights back,” Steve said.

~~~

Tony had his headphones blasting ACDC. He had dirty pants and a tank top on, which he had actually been wearing for a few times now. There were bottles of alcohol and coffee cups all over the sight since Tony was surviving off of liquids. 

Natasha was unimpressed as she felt thrown back in time to when Tony had destroyed his house while he was dying years earlier. She wasn’t in the mood for any of his antics, so she quickly pulled his headphones off and threw them to the side.

“What the— oh. It’s you,” Tony said, immediately getting back to work.

“Seriously? This is not okay, Tony. This is a new low.”

“I’m fine.”

“Bullshit.”

“Red—“

“Get your ass in the quinjet.”

“You’re not my mom.”

“You’re right, but I have a pretty good guess on how disappointed she’d be right now.” Tony clenched his jaw, remaining silent. “Okay, I’ll admit that that was low, but it needed to be said.” She sighed. “You need to come home.”

“I’m building a home.”

“You’re building a home that you think Y/N will like. You have no idea. You need her opinion on things. What if she hates it?” Tony stopped his movements. Natasha took it as a sign to move closer, coming around to meet face to face. “I know that you are doing this all for her, but you’re doing this the wrong way.”

“I just want her to feel safe…”

“I know, and I get it. But it’s time to come home. You and Y/N need to talk about everything—including this house. We also don’t want it to get out that the Avengers have started a construction company. The calls would never cease.”

Tony let out a breathy chuckle. “Yeah, guess you’re right.”

“One day, you’ll realize I always am.”

“Tony! Natasha!” Steve came running to them, yelling. “We have a problem!”

“What’s going on?”

“T’Challa just called. Something happened, and Rumlow escaped. We can’t get a hold of anyone at the Compound, and FRIDAY is down.”

“Impossible,” Tony said, rushing to his nearest suit. It refused to respond. “Come on!” He tried to get the suit to open, continuing to fail. “Come on!”

“Are the quinjets working?” Natasha asked Steve.

“That’s what Sam, Bucky, and Rhodey are working on right now,” he responded.

“We have to get to the Compound,” Tony said. “I have to get there… Y/N’s there.” His heart felt like it was going to beat out of his chest as the panic set in. “I’m not there… I’m not there… I’m failing her again… I’ve got—I need—Y/N—” His breaths were uneven, and his head began spinning. It took only seconds for him to be on the ground, panicking.

“Tony!” Both Natasha and Steve exclaimed. They rushed to his side just before he passed out.

Steve was quick to scoop Tony up and began to rush to one of the quinjets.

“Sam got one working!” Bucky shouted. He noticed Tony in Steve’s arms. “What the hell happened?”

“We need to go,” Natasha stated as they headed for the working quinjet. “Rhodey! Sam! We need a medkit out and IVs. I’ll fly.”

Everyone worked quickly as Natasha got the quinjet off the ground and headed for the Compound.

next chapter >

[lefresne]

Hi! Sorry for the silly questions but i would like to ask you ,what are yoy fave relationships in Arthuriana and wht^ (romantic ,platonic ,bitter enemies ,familial etch)

Have a Good day !

Hi what a fun and delightful question !! Honestly if it’s done well I can pretty much get behind anything but I do have a few relationships that really make me go crazy in the best way:

Arthur and Morgan: people who don’t understand why a woman who seemed hellbent on destroying Arthur might also be the one to comfort him as he dies just. don’t get it. Like that’s her baby brother!!!you can spend your life scheming against him and coming up with silly goofy plans to undermine him but at the end of the day that is your baby brother. When Malory has her say « dear brother why have you tarried so long away from me? » HELP???

Morgan and Guinevere: just. Fascinating relationship. In the vulgate cycle Morgan starts to suspect that Guinevere is having an affair with lancelot when she spots his ring because Morgan has the SAME RING (with minor differences) and it was also a gift from Guinevere. I’m speechless. these monks really said that morgan and guinevere exchanged love tokens at one point. « We were girls together » or however it goes. like. so true. they were girls together!!!

Gawain and Guinevere: Camelot mean girls. Agents of chaos. Having little parties and gossiping. Guinevere riding out alone to meet him in the knight of the two swords and embracing him and covering his face with kisses because she is so happy to see him…thats (platonic) love baybee!

Gawain and Lancelot: i believe they loved each other. Like I really do. I’d go as far as to call them soulmates but in a sort of fundamental way I can’t quite explain. Gawain wants to be a woman so he can be with lancelot! Gawain asks Lancelot to kill him! Gawain is DEVOTED to that man. Very compelling.

Lancelot and Guinevere: fascinated by all iterations of their relationship. It’s so complex and interesting. Like the power dynamic is so rich, especially when you think of Lancelot’s ambiguous relationship with gender. They do love each other, even when it’s difficult and it looks like they don’t. Their final parting in Malory is SO painful to read.

I think what these all have in common is that they make me reflect on the nature of love and how complicated and interesting love is, in all its forms!

Thank you for your question <3 and if anyone want to tell me all about their fave arthurian relationships they can <3

(Edit: I also forgot to put Perceval and his mother on the list!! I am obsessed with them)