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#and that most things actually live in between? uGH
peribirb · 2 months
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anyone else incapable of feeling things lately or am i just That Messed Up
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milo-is-rambling · 1 year
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I am so high I love you dabs I love you big bong rips I love you huge heavy bong I love you only having 20 dollars to my name and no plans but getting high and ignoring it I love you oh no I’m thinking about it
#I want to take an ice cold shower and scream and smoke a whole pack of cigarettes and lock myself in a closet for 72 hours in the dark with#no distractions to figure out what I actually want to do with the rest of my life and to face every bad thought I have and struggle to#ignore even years later like ugh I just need to be at the bottom of the ocean floating sinking alive dead in between for like a month and#then pull me back up and either I’ll be normal or I’ll be so fucked up they just put me back in there#like either way I am vibing at the bottom of the ocean (I have been desperately imaging a sensory deprivation tank all day)#(put me in a fucking sensory deprivation tank until something in my fucking brain rewires and I get worse or better than I am now this#inbetween stage is fucking killing me like what do you mean I’m not a horrible person but also what do you mean I struggle every day but I’m#normal but I have things about me other people don’t and alienate me to the point of near total isolation but also this is just how humans#are and I need to take meds and actively struggle to fit into a perfect little box of what a person should be like god damn I am so tired of#getting better and worse and better and worse and better and worse and better and worse and I’m miserable and I’m happy and I’m sobbing and#I know a month from now I’ll be depressed again or I’ll be the best I’ve ever been and it’s so fucking horrible to be in the middle stage#where I actually have to step up and admit shit is wrong and face it like why can’t I just lay in bed forever until I become the bed and not#like get a job and have a future. ugh. depression is so fucked esp bc most things in my life are normal I guess or like easier than my#friends like we all have seperate challenges but I’m the only one still living off their parents (ha. parent. forgot for a second.) and the#only thing wrong with my life is the mental health issues but I won’t step up and deal with it bc I feel like I’ve been depressed for so#long I like fucked up the foundational shit and like I know it’s fine but also I feel so behind and I feel like I’ll be behind and unhappy#forever even when im happy I know the next depressive episode is right around the corner and I give up again. ugh. I hate knowing that’s#what’s wrong with me but still not having the energy to step up and fix it. im so pathetic I want to cry. my brain is me but my brain is#destroying my life. anyways. im high and now im sad and have dry mouth. I think im gonna drink ice water and change into shorts+lay in bed)
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ame-to-ame · 26 days
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Rereading ayaka is in love with Hiroko senpai!!! Last time I read it I don't think it was finished/I didn't finish it but ack. Now I also want to be in love 😭😭😭
#i want to say i want to be someone like ayaka but in reality im probably more like hiroko#i used to be someone like ayaka. i was really tunnel visioned and i didn't consider much aside from the person i was interested in#but it's been years now and there's a lot more to consider and it's. hard and im even more scared now.#i think there's someone who im currently talking with who's trying to figure out if im into women or not and if im available or not#but it's that sort of thing where there's just. a lot in my shoulders and a lot to consider. i want a relationship eventually but.#there's just so much to consider right now. in the past i thought that as long as i could make my partner happy a rx is just btwn 2 of us#but when i did actually get into a serious long term relationship i realized that most people. do expect getting to have in laws.#people for the most part want to be loved proudly and not have to hide it. and i do too. but at the same time. i just. there's so much on me#i almost came out to my dad the other day while trying to console him. but maybe that news would just be the last straw for him. idk.#i just can't really afford to have my life be shaken up much more right now when i just rebuilt some stability.#especially when my parents are having a midlife crisis and both of them are leaning on me. my health worsening also stressed them out too.#i really thought I'd be braver and have less to worry about the older i got and the more independent i became but. ig not.#in my teens i told myself once i reached adulthood I'd be free to be myself and pursue happiness. in my 20s i tell myself after med school.#maybe once I'm finally out of med school and etc I'll have the opportunity to live my life. or maybe by then there will be another reason.#it's a real concern. i mean. sure I've never wanted kids I've always been ace and I've always liked women but. the societal pressure.#to other queer people the gaydar goes off easily but to the cishet audience i've mostly. been able to go unnoticed.#and when you're younger not having a bf or ppl you're interested in and being focused on your studies is a thing your parents are proud of#but as i get older. it's just been harder. i don't know how much longer i have before i have to conform or have the cat out of the bag.#i don't even get it sometimes. i really don't. the expectation of family and marriage is wanting happiness for your child right? but somehow#idk. idk. i really don't know. sometimes maintaining an image. might be more important than your child's feelings.#and i really can't be certain that between ego and saving face compared to me that. I'll come out on top. i really don't know.#idk. idk. i know there are ppl interested in dating me. but idk. i really need some time to process things through.#sometimes i ask myself how i would feel abt it and i really can't figure out how i feel at all.#it's ok to date someone u don't love ig. i mean. I've done it before. you can make yourself like someone after a while. but idk if i.#idk i just. i think im just really scared. and I'll need at least another month or so before anything is back on the table.#it's honestly just me running away from having to deal with sorting out thoughts and feelings 👍👍👍 which i eventually will have to face ig#but if i do fall in love ik i have it in me to sort those things out quickly i think. if im not too scared to let myself fall.#ig i just have to get more used to ppl being interested in me again ack 😭 it's easy to ignore it when dating someone but. now.#and it was fine in the summer bc i wasn't really around too many ppl my age. but. ugh. unfortunately. i do have. a face and a personality.#delete later
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lokissweater · 15 days
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sunday's 𓈒ㅤׂ 𝜗𝜚
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{yuta okkotsu x popular f!reader}
summary: yuta okkotsu has been in love with you since he started college— living in the shadows of your popularity as he watched from afar how your bouncy and genuine kind soul prospered and shined everywhere you went. but during one of his shifts at the 50s diner down the street from his campus, you walk in with you friends one sunday night and immediately bond over your shared love for elvis presley’s music, yuta stammering and fidgety at how pretty you are up close, and you falling fast for his pinky cheeks, sweet little words, and how he takes care of you every single day.
warnings: college!au, FLUUUFFF omg so cute, lovesick yuta he thinks you’re so prettyyy, no smut in this one!, popular reader, cursing, afab!reader, lots of mentions of elvis presley LOL, little bit of angst, clueless yuta, strangers to friends to lovers.
word count: 9.6k
authors note: THIS ONE HITS HOMEEE FOR MEEE AAAHHHH CAN YOU TELL I LOVE ELVIS PRESLEY? i live and breathe that man and oldies in general, so this is a love letter to him! :] this fic is all of my favorite things combined and it is SO FREAKING CUUTEEEE UGH i hope you all love it seriously <3333 MWAAHHH I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU—
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yuta okkotsu had never seen a girl so beautiful.
you were breathtaking, watching from afar, it was truly as if the world revolved around you in the most positive way yuta could think of.
you were popular— a beam of gorgeous light following you everywhere you went as you were always just enveloped by people and strangers and friends, them wanting to talk to you, wanting to get to know you, wanting you to better their lives because that’s what you selflessly liked to do for everyone without knowing.
and every time he’d walk in between lectures and spot you— feeling in the dumps if on certain days he’d miss your presence entirely, he’d just stare. stare with pink cheeks and softened eyes as you laughed and messed around with your friends or did extracurricular activities around campus, always giving a helping hand to those who needed it no matter the status.
that’s what yuta admired the most about you. you didn’t treat anybody differently just because they didn’t stand in the same level as you. you didn’t care about things like that, and you spoke to people with such fucking class and poise, that he always dozed off picturing how it would be like if he ever had the privilege of actually speaking with you.
that’s how most of his work shifts went at the diner after his classes.
he would wait tables or be in the kitchen, wipe down the windows or run the hostess stand… and you’d be on his mind— permanently there to torment him in the loveliest way he knew how.
and on one sunday night, you were unexpectedly there right in front of him at his job.
“hello?”
you waved a gentle hand over his face, and he snapped out of it immediately, cheeks pinky and bright, your friends snickering.
“yes! s—sorry.” he reached behind the hostess stand. “how many are with you?”
“four!” you responded sweetly, yuta having to swallow the huge lump in his throat as he officially saw your smile up close for the first time in his life— a gorgeous contrast to what it looked like from far away.
yuta quickly grabbed the corresponding menus and stepped to the side of the hostess stand, leading you and your friends through the empty restaurant and to a big booth— placing two menus down on each side of the table.
a series of elvis presley oldies (a personal pick from yuta) played through the jukebox in the middle of the diner while you and your friends scanned the menu, yuta fidgeting and anxious with his pen and notepad, waiting for you to order.
“do you have a favorite milkshake from here?” your kind voice spoke, looking up at him.
“uh— milkshake?”
your friends snickered again, but this time, you turned to them and shot them all a menacing glare.
“hey!— stop that you guys…” you shook your head at them and turned back to a red faced yuta, smiling apologetically. “i’m sorry! i’m really sorry.”
your friends only looked annoyed as they buried their faces in their menus or looked away entirely— yuta shaking his head softly.
“n—no it’s alright. um— i usually prefer this one-”
he timidly pointed his pen downward, the words ‘elvis shake’ reading from it.
“it has uh— vanilla ice cream with peanut butter and bananas.” he pursed his lips. “if… if you like that?”
“oh i’m a whore for anything with peanut butter in it!…” your hands spread flat across the menu as you leaned closer, yuta shyly laughing a little at your wording.
you looked up then, your eyes bright and excited and yuta doesn’t think anyone has ever looked at him the way you were at that moment.
“is that why you like it? because of the peanut butter?”
“yeah! yeah definitely... m— mainly because of the name though.”
you stopped and your eyebrows furrowed. “elvis? do you listen to him?”
his cheeks buzzed. “do you?”
“y/n!” one of your friends harshly whispered to you from across the table. “are we here to chit chat or are we here to eat?”
“fuck okay! jesus—”
you and the rest of your group ordered, yuta nervously scribbling down the names of various platters and drinks before silently excusing himself to send the note off to the kitchen staff.
and when it came around to serving your food, placing each individual dish down for each person— yuta gently settled the elvis shake you got in front of you, adorned with baby pink sprinkles over a mountain of whipped cream with a cherry on top, something that yuta did extra for you out of the goodness of his infatuated heart, since it didn’t come with the drink in the first place.
he didn’t know why, but he could tell that the energy was different between you and your friends the second time he came around, and after hiding in the kitchen for the entirety of the time you were there instead of outside waiting tables like he was supposed to, by the third time he came back around— you were fighting with them.
he quickly retreated behind the bar and made himself look busy, guiltily eavesdropping as he picked up a random salt shaker and falsely examined it.
“i don’t understand why you guys can’t just be nice!” you pushed. “is having a normal conversation with somebody that funny? every time?”
“y/n you always talk to a bunch of rando’s of course it’s funny.”
“what the hell does that even mean?”
“it means it looks odd and you’re embarrassing yourself every time you skip around not being mindful of who you’re having conversations with!” one of them seethed, their tone judgemental and rude and one yuta didn’t like at all.
“like— like the server today! i’m pretty sure i’ve seen him around campus, he’s odd. why were you asking him about— about— who the fuck were you asking him about?“
“elvis.” you spat. “i was asking him about elvis."
“that guy! who cares? he works here why do you have to always talk to people like that—”
“like what?!” you threw your arms up. “like a normal decent human being would? i can see why you’d lack that.”
“excuse me?”
“yeah. and it sucks for you.”
“sucks for?— okay. i think we’re done here.”
“way fucking done.”
as each of them scooched out of the booth, yuta watched with wide panicked eyes while you stayed seated and silent, arms crossed over your chest and lips tight as you glared.
“i don’t know why everyone loves you so much…” one of them muttered. “there isn’t anything to you.”
and they all walked out, the bell above the door chiming as they did.
yuta’s eyes darted from you to the exit and to them through the window outside in the parking lot, watching fucking gobsmacked as they all got in one singular car and sped off, leaving you there by yourself and with the responsibility of the bill.
soft sniffles reached him, and he turned then, your body hunched over on the table as you cried with your head down, yuta’s heart aching for you.
he put down the random salt shaker he was holding and walked around the bar, slowly making his way towards your table.
“you don’t—”
you shot up startled.
“sorry! sorry—” he awkwardly scratched his pinky cheek. “i was just— gonna say you don’t have to pay the bill… i— i can—”
“oh! no you don’t have to do that.” you wiped your cheeks. “it’s okay i can pay it.”
“but they left you the entire bill.” he said softly.
“i know… it’s okay! really.” you smiled a little through your tears, the sight making his shoulders slump.
how you could possibly smile at a time like this was beyond him.
yuta started clearing the empty plates from your table when you spoke up again.
“i’m sorry you had to deal with their attitude...” you mumbled. “and my ugly crying.”
he smiled softly and shook his head. “no it’s okay. you shouldn’t apologize for them.”
“i should though…” you whined a little. “they were being mean the moment we got here and were just straight disrespectful.”
you leaned back against the plush of the booth and crossed your arms, muttering. “it’s not like they were my friends either..”
yuta quirked a confused brow, setting the last of the plates away in the kitchen before coming back around. “they weren’t?”
“nuh uh.” you shook your head. “i had just met them today actually, from a sorority event. i thought they were nice at first but i started noticing they were a little bitchy.”
“bitchy?” he laughed a little, his heart leaping like a little leap frog at the realization that it was just you and him at the diner alone, the cooks having already gone home seeing as it was past closing time for the diner.
“yeah…” you sighed deeply through your nose. “they weren’t being very nice to the other girls there either… and— and when they asked me if i wanted to come eat here with them i didn’t really want to go but—” you pursed your lips, a sheepish look on your face. “i have a hard time saying no to people so…”
yuta’s eyes softened, leaning back against the edge of the long bar table as he eyed how resilient you tried to come across but damn well knowing you were hurting inside by their actions, your cheeks still wet and your bottom lip in a slight pout.
“what they said to you wasn’t very nice…” he murmured. “i’m sorry they did that.”
you smiled warmly. “it’s okay. i get it here and there.”
his eyebrows furrowed. “here and there? what do you mean?”
“from other people that i meet.” you perked up slightly then. “do you wanna sit?” you signaled to the seat across from you in the booth and he stiffened, eyes wide and cheeks pink as he reluctantly scooched his legs over and sat across from you.
“they just get a little mad when i don’t do what they want me to do.”
“like be mean? like them?”
you shrugged a little, but the way your gorgeous eyes peered up at him indicated that he was right. “i suppose.”
“are all of your friends like that?”
“oh no! thankfully not…” you fiddled with your fingers on the table. “a lot of them are really sweet.”
yuta never thought about how something like this could be a possibility, as all he saw was how much you were loved and idolized and sought after by literally anyone who knew your name— but he missed the mark on the logistics of it. he should’ve known certain girls wouldn’t be in favor of you and desired what you didn’t have to work very hard for to get.
he saw how you wiped the remnants of your wet cheeks and sniffed, looking like you had at least recovered from crying but still a little dejected as you slouched over the table, eyes down.
“do you want… another elvis shake?”
you looked up. “what?”
“a—another shake. do you want one?” he stood slowly from the booth. “or i could get you ice cream? we just have vanilla and chocolate but—”
“oh no! it’s okay really i don’t want to freeload over what you have—”
he giggled a little. “you’re not freeloading. i’m offering.”
and before you could reject him again, he was already making his way to the kitchen— hands skillfully prepping his favorite milkshake like he’d done so many times before since the age of sixteen, and now skillfully and lovingly preparing it for you, the girl he’s adored since the moment he started college.
you stood and timidly followed after him, but instead of fully going into the kitchen, you stopped in front of the vintage burgundy jukebox and scanned the selection of songs.
“you won’t get in trouble?” you worriedly called over your shoulder. “i don’t want you to run into issues with your job…”
“no it’s okay!” you heard from the kitchen, glasses and silverware clinking together. “i’ve been working here since high school and my manager doesn’t mind. i usually um— close on sunday’s on my own too.”
the blender went off as you spotted your favorite elvis presley song on the list of selections, perking up and quickly digging into your purse for any stray quarters you magically hoped would appear inside.
yuta switched the blender off and unhooked it from the base, pouring out the frothy liquid into a fountain glass cup.
“you close on your own on sunday’s?” your head turned to where he was, catching little glimpses of him from the doorway as he moved to and fro. “the entire restaurant?”
“yeah…” he laughed awkwardly. “well— all of the time.”
“all of the time?!” you gawked, popping your head into the kitchen and accidentally scaring him.
“oh shit!—”
“sorry!” you giggled cutely. “i’m sorry…”
he laughed with you and waved you off. “it’s okay.”
yuta looked down and proceeded topping your milkshake with baby pink sprinkles again. “and yeah we’re kind of… understaffed right now. it’s just me and another kid.”
you hummed understandingly, watching the way he finished off your shake with two cherries on top instead of one like last time, making you softly smile in response.
he plopped a straw in. “here you go.”
“thank you!” you bounced excitedly on your little toes and he grinned, handing the glass over to you gently.
“i hope you feel better…”
your milkshake filled cheeks made him laugh as you paused and swallowed, the sweetest expression ever on your face as your eyes flickered to his name tag and back to him.
“i do yuta… thank you!”
the way his name rang off your tongue, something he never ever would’ve thought to hear come out of your mouth, to come out from you, sent him feeling lightheaded as fuck as he dropped his head down to hide his rosy cheeks, walking out of the kitchen as you followed after him.
you paused in front of the jukebox again.
“oh! i didn’t get to hear your answer from earlier.”
he picked his head up. “from earlier?”
“if— if you listen to elvis?”
“oh—” his gaze drifted to where you had your focus on the elvis presley selection panel on the machine. “i do! i love his music.”
you beamed, eyes lighting up so excitedly as you looked at him.
“oh my god i love him too! so much!”
“really?” he smiled. “do you— do you have a favorite song?”
“yeah! i have a lot...” you giggled shyly. “but i mainly like ‘always on my mind.’”
“that one’s a good one!” his smile grew. “i love that one too.”
“right?!” you stepped closer to him, and his face flushed. “and you? what about you?”
“i uh— i like ‘moody blue’…”
you gushed. “i like that one too!”
you loved the way his pinky cheeks bloomed and how kind he was— the way he tried his best to make you, a stranger, feel better with a cute little milkshake, his stuttering and fidgeting something that you found yourself adoring and only made your heart mushy with the weird need to pinch his rosy cheeks.
and he loved elvis.
“i’m glad you like him.” you hummed, running the pad of your index finger mindlessly over the smooth glittery surface of the jukebox. “people don’t really listen to him or oldies in general now.”
you gently set your nearly finished milkshake on the bar table as he nodded his head in agreement, thinking he couldn’t fall more in love with you over the fact that you actually liked one of his favorite artists. “i didn’t—expect you to either…”
you tilted your head. “really? why?”
“because—” he stammered, eyes darting around your breathtaking face. “well you’re popular. and pretty. and in a sorority. and i just—”
“oh— i see!” you smiled with blushing cheeks at his quick compliment, but it didn’t really reach your eyes. “i understand.”
“no but!—” your eyes stayed glued to the jukebox, and he worried that he might’ve accidentally offended you as he frantically tried to get his words together.
“i know it’s all stereotypes and assumptions so i’m— i’m sorry.”
“it’s alright!” you giggled softly. “i just don’t want you or anyone to get the wrong impression of me because of those things is all…”
your eyebrows pinched in thought, and he quickly shook his head.
“i’ve never!” he reached and placed a hand on your shoulder, your cheeks growing hot as he did so. “i’ve never gotten the wrong impression of you…”
“no?”
“no.”
you peered up at him. “what do you think of me then?”
“what do i—” he gulped. “what do i think?”
“yeah!”
“i think uh… you’re really nice.” he mumbled. “really nice. to everyone.. to me. doesn’t matter who honestly. and… you’re not afraid to say something if someone is being rude.”
yuta shifted his weight from one foot to the other as he avoided your gaze. “and you’re helpful… you put a lot of care into the things that you do, which are always never for your own benefit but for the benefit of others.”
he froze. “i— i see you around campus! a lot— so…”
your doe eyes were soft and filled with affection and warmth, the weight of his words settling into your mind as if they’ve always belonged there. as if he’s always belonged there.
you wrung your fingers behind your back then and leaned up on your tippy toes.
“you think i’m pretty?”
beautiful.
yuta hadn’t even realized that he had called you that until the moment you mentioned it again, his eyes widening as his wobbly lips tried to form coherent sentences for you.
“well— well who doesn’t...” he squeaked.
“but do you?” you leaned even closer, your cute smile nearly making him want to blurt out that he’s in love with you and that he’s maybe thought about you being the mother of his children from time to time.
“i— i do.” his eyes flickered back to yours. “i do.”
you bit your bottom lip and gleamed, giving into your impulses and reaching up to gently squeeze his flushed cheek.
“you’re so cute yuta…” you murmured, arm falling back to your side and eyes casting over the jukebox again.
and he nearly just about died.
“do you want a little donut?” he asked. “i— i can get it from the back—”
you and yuta spent literally the rest of the night until two in the morning chit chatting, playing various oldies tunes on the jukebox that conspired of mainly elvis presley, and yuta literally feeding you and giving you anything he possibly could just so he could watch the way you beamed at him every time he did— even when at one point you literally begged him that it was okay, your tummy absolutely filled with sugary sweets and drinks.
you even helped yuta close— disinfecting and wiping down all of the tables, sweeping the floors, triple shining the little elvis mural the diner had by the hostess stand, and organizing the menu’s for tomorrow’s shift.
in the midst of you wiping down the last of the big glass windows by the entrance with him, you thought of something.
“oh my god yuta—” your head snapped in his direction, his eyes widening at your sudden outburst.
“what if i work here?”
he stopped.
“work here?”
“yeah!” you nodded vigorously. “with you!”
he bit the inside of his cheek to prevent himself from screaming. “with me?”
“uh huh!” you chirped sweetly. “i would love to wipe down tables and listen to music with you everyday..”
yuta’s ears went red as he heard your soft voice say something so cute, wanting to literally run into the kitchen to the sink and dunk his face in sink water to cool off his boiling face.
“if that’s okay!” you sputtered. “am i being weird? am i freaking you out—”
“no! no not at all!” the corners of his lips curled, and he smiled, genuinely smiled. a big loving one that made his cheeks hurt with how hard he was doing it, and one that made your heart lightly flutter inside your chest at the way he was looking at you.
“i can talk to my manager.” he spoke gently. “i’m pretty sure he’ll take you.”
you bounced excitedly on your tippy toes, unexpectedly throwing your arms around him and landing a big fat kiss to his cheek.
“thank you thank you!”
yuta kept true to his word and talked to his manager the following day, who barely even had to think about it since he trusted yuta more than his own damn kids, waving him off and giving him the all clear to have you start the coming week.
“look look! do you likkeeyyy?”
you twirled around in your waitress uniform, the frilly pink fabric moving and swaying with every spin you made as he casually tried to bite down on his thumb in stupid restraint.
“it’s great!” he muttered, teeth locked around his thumb still. “you look great y/n.”
“thanks thanks!”
and you hopped over, giving him another quick kiss on the cheek before skipping away to the kitchen, him ecstatic as he’d been wanting another one so fucking badly again since the first time you did it— him biting down even harder on his thumb when you disappeared from view.
“why do you look like you’re about to shit yourself?”
yuta whipped around and saw his other coworker, yuji, the kid who shares shifts with him sometimes and spills everything and anything that comes out of his mouth without thinking twice about it, standing next to him with a clueless face.
yuji then wiggled his eyebrows teasingly. “is it the girl? the pretty one? the one with the big ass—”
“knock it off—” yuta shoved him away lightly and walked off, crouching down behind the bar counter and sorting through piles of rolled up silverware and buffet napkins.
“do you like her? yes or no?” yuji leaned against the edge of the bar.
his cheeks went pink.
“because if not i’m gonna go try y’know—”
yuta scoffed. “yuji you’re a freshman in high school and we’re in college. she’s in college—”
“okay maybe she likes them young? cougar moment?”
yuta looked at him absolutely horrified and bewildered. “you’re fucking insane—”
his reaction and response only made yuji double over in a fit of laughter, clutching his stomach and gasping for breath as yuta looked at him with an unamused face.
“i’m kidding! i’m just kidding i know you like her you’ve been red in the face the minute she clocked in—”
“what’s so funny?”
you popped your head in from the kitchen, making yuta jump again and yuji double over laughing like before, you giving yuta an apologetic look.
“i wanna laugh!” you pouted. “what happened? what’s funny?”
“yuta didn’t like the joke i made.” yuji quipped.
“well what was it? maybe i will!” you smiled sweetly.
“i said—”
“don’t say it!”
yuji ducked as yuta threw a kids menu at him.
“yuta has a cru—”
“shut the fuck up!—”
you covered your mouth with your hands in a little fit of giggles, the sound halting yuta mid throw to look at you with wide dreamy eyes— not wanting to miss the way you laughed and the way your nose crinkled with every hiccup.
yuji snickered and he shot him a glare before standing and walking over to where you stood.
“you don’t wanna hear it…” he mumbled shyly, fiddling with a buffet napkin. “it was freaking weird.”
you settled your giggles down and breathed, nodding cutely. “i’ll take your word for it, yu.”
yu.
“eeehh?! look y/n! look at his face!—”
“shut up!”
for the rest of the days and shifts that you spent together, yuta made it his mission to do things for you to hopefully earn him a sweet cheek kiss in return like last time, all while desperately trying to avoid yuji and his big ginormous annoying mouth actively corrupting some of his attempts on purpose.
yuta would try and bring you any kind of pastry he could give away to you without his manager knowing, or make you milkshakes randomly throughout your shifts or small BLT’s during lunch time to feed you, all for the purpose of watching the way you’d smile and hug him gratefully each time, and if he got lucky, a sweet kiss on the cheek.
“i don’t get it.” yuji shook his head during one of your shifts, him shuffling through a movie magazine on his break. “why don’t you just ask her for a kiss on the cheek? hm? i’d bet she’d do it! ooo better yet—” he looked at him with sarcastic laced excitement. “ask her out you little loser.”
yuta’s cheeks were hot as he listened, watching you from the kitchen take orders and scribble them down on a notepad.
“it’s been months yuta. months. i am in agony every day watching you follow her around like a lost puppy even though it’s the funniest thing i’ve ever seen.”
yuta rolled his eyes, but sent him a small sad smile. “can’t do it.”
“why not?” he whined. “she likes you too!”
“because she’s out of my league.” yuta pursed his lips. “and no i don’t think she likes me.”
“oh man—” yuji hunched over the sink, tossing his magazine to the side and gripping the rim in exhaustion. “she kisses your cheeks and hugs you and literally took this job because of you! what more proof do you want?!” he grabbed his shoulders and shook him. “a straight up confession?! a straight up kiss?!”
yuta’s heart accelerated at the thought as he pictured yuji’s words clear in his mind.
would you ever kiss him?… would you ever like him back?
“m—maybe?”
“what about school! do you guys not hang out or talk at school?”
“we do!” yuta perked up, but his shoulders quickly slumped. “we’re in different circles though so it’s always just for a little bit or casually.”
yuji groaned loudly and smacked a hand over his forehead. “it’s useless. you’re on your own man i tried i tried so hard i can’t help you—”
he continued to mutter under his breath as he picked up his backpack and walked out of the kitchen and out of the restaurant, the end of his shift drawing near as yuta laughed to himself over his words.
he appreciated how much yuji cared and how badly he wanted him to succeed, but even though his unrealistic expectations and hopes annoyed him most of the time as he blabbed on to him about them, yuta knew he was just a kid. so he valued it anyways.
“yu!” you spoke from behind the bar, him quickly rubbing his sweaty palms over his pants as he walked out of the kitchen to you.
“i’m so excited for tonight!” you smiled, your giddy little self practically bouncing off the walls in anticipation.
he laughed. “you’re excited to clean?”
“yup yup! i’m excited to clean with you.”
with him.
yuta adored sunday’s because that’s when you were both scheduled to close together on your own— just like the first time you did months ago, back when you weren’t working there yet.
there were no cooks, no yuji, no manager, and no customers. just you and him as you blasted elvis singles on the jukebox and got a sugar high from the ice cream machine as you wiped down tables and dusted off shelves— one time you literally slipping on the checkered tile by the entrance because you forgot you had just mopped the floor, yuta practically jumping over the bar counter to see if you were okay and him absolutely sick and worried over nothing as he showered you with more pastries and sweets to help you feel better.
that sunday night he got a kiss on the cheek.
so as you both bid the last customers a good night and got right to work, yuta considered yuji’s dumb words.
maybe he should just ask?
“if elvis was still alive i would probably sell myself to go see him.”
he let out a shocked laugh. “sell yourself? like prostitution?”
“mhm!” you hummed, wiping down the bar counter. “think about it— his tickets would probably cost like three thousand dollars. where the hell am i gonna get three thousand dollars? i’m broke and in college.”
yuta shook his head, his lips in an amused grin. “anything for elvis.”
“exactly!” you leaned over the counter excitedly, yuta on the other side with pink cheeks and a fuzzy feeling in his heart. “you get it. only you understand me.”
he laughed.
“i think it’d be cool if they brought him back as a hologram and did concerts that way.” yuta suggested.
you gasped incredulously as a hand flew to slap over your mouth. “yu! you little genius! oh my god i have to start pimping myself out now—”
yuta laughed again and shook his head. “don’t do that. we’ll find a way to get in.”
“we?!” you propped yourself up on the counter with your elbows and cupped his hands in yours, him stiffening with wide eyes and wobbly nervous lips. “you wanna go with me?”
“y—yeah.” he stammered. “of— of course…”
you squealed and nodded quickly, seemingly accepting the hypothetical proposal.
but then you settled down a little. your eyelashes slowly fluttering as you stared at him— a slow 50s love song statically murmuring through the jukebox adding to the atmosphere as you leaned in and kissed him on the cheek.
but this time it was different.
it wasn’t quick and cutesy and one that yuta barely had time to bask over before you pranced away. it was slow, tender, and yuta could feel the way your soft lips touched his skin and left behind a burn as he let his eyes close at the blissful gentle feeling, him finally able to relish in the rarity of it before you slightly began pulling away, eyes twinkling.
“…do you still think i’m pretty?” you whispered.
he swallowed thickly, your face so close he could feel your breath fanning across his lips.
“i do.” he whispered back, eyes locked on yours. “very much so.”
you bit your bottom lip as you smiled, ever so slightly leaning closer and closer to him as your lips nearly brushed against—
riinnggg!
you quickly pulled away and ran to the back to answer the phone, leaving yuta sitting there swooning and nearly collapsing on the table, his hands cold from not being encased in your own soft hands anymore.
but most of all… leaving him confused. he didn’t know why you were leaning in like that.
“i’m sorry we’re closed for the day!… uh huh… we open at eight am tomorrow if—”
yuta could still feel the blaze your lips left behind on his cheek as you spoke on the phone, his hands coming up to rub his eyes as he tried to get his head back down from the clouds and simmer down the beating of his heart.
“someone wanted to come in right now!” you exclaimed, coming back over to your previous spot.
he furrowed his eyebrows. “right now? are you serious? it’s—” he spun around on the barstool and turned his head to the coca cola themed vintage clock on the wall. “it’s nearly twelve am?”
“i know!” you breathed out. “we closed four hours ago.”
“four?!—”
it dawned on the both of you how long you had been inside the diner, fully convinced it would’ve been longer if you hadn’t noticed.
so as the two of you mutually agreed to finish up and gather your things— the jukebox switched to an iconic elvis presley slow love song as you were just about halfway through the entrance double doors, eyes snapping to each other’s.
“aw i love this one…” you spoke softly, a little whine seeping through.
a small close lipped smile spread across his face. “i love this one too.”
“do you wanna—” you stopped.
his eyebrows pinched. “do i wanna what?”
“do you wanna… dance with meee?” you dragged out cutely, slightly bouncing on your toes.
“dance?” his eyes widened. “i— i don’t know how—”
“s’okay! i’ll teach you!”
you quickly pulled his hand and dragged him out, opening one door and jamming a door stopper underneath it so the music of the jukebox leaked out of the diner and through the empty street.
the pavement was a little wet from the morning rain as you took his hand again and pulled him to the middle of the dead empty street, the bottom of your shoes tapping and splashing a little with each tiny puddle you stepped in.
elvis presley’s voice softly hummed through the air, but it was loud and clear to the both of you as you gently took yuta’s hands and set them around your waist, his heart fucking palpitating and feeling like he was about to have a stroke when you wrung your arms over his neck and showed him that pretty smile he loved so much.
you both slowly stepped side to side, the air crispy and cold as your breath’s blew out foggy misty clouds due to the condensation, both of your noses and cheeks flushing red and buzzing warmly as you continued to slow dance— yuta’s grip slowly tightening until he was practically hugging you flush against his body.
out of anything that could possibly happen to yuta in his life, he wanted to remember this moment specifically— with you, dancing in the middle of the street listening to the man that essentially brought you both together in the first place, your beautiful beautiful face looking at him like he was the most important thing in your life… yuta wanting so badly for that to come true as he basked in this little made up scenario in his head that you were already his.
“yu…” you murmured.
he didn’t trust his voice.
“hm?”
“why haven’t you kissed me yet.”
what?
“kissed… you?”
“yeah..” you whispered, your bodies swaying. “don’t you like me?”
yuta let out a shaky breath. “i— i mean yeah… who doesn’t?”
your smile faltered. “i’m talking about you though…”
“oh. well you know i do. i’m sure a lot of other guys would want to kiss you.”
the song drawled to a gradual close and the jukebox reset, you both no longer swaying but still holding on to each other.
your eyes drifted to the side. “other guys?”
he pursed his lips, not really liking the thought of you kissing guys, but answering your question anyways. “yeah… other guys.”
his emphasis on other guys and not on himself left a bad taste in your mouth.
your eyes narrowed in confusion as you looked up at him, yuta a little shocked at your sad expression.
did he say something wrong?
“i thought—” you shook your head softly. “i thought you…?”
“…thought me what?” he cocked his head to the side, his genuine confusion solidifying his rejection in your eyes.
“i— i thought—”
your hands slipped from his shoulders and you stepped back, yuta sadly complying and letting his arms open and fall beside him as you rapidly blinked back tears, his eyes slowly widening once he caught it.
“hey— are you okay? what’s wrong?”
yuta went and reached for you, you backing away in response as you shook your head and gave him a small smile, but it didn’t reach your eyes at all.
“why are you crying? did i say something mean? i’m sorry—”
“no no i’m fine.” your voice was quiet and sad. “i think we should go home now.”
his shoulders deflated.
“are you sure? we— we usually hang out until at least one in the morning on sunday’s…”
you walked past him and towards the double doors of the diner, letting your tears slip in secret as you picked up your school bag and swung it over your shoulder, quickly wiping your cheeks before picking up his bag and giving it to him.
yuta thanked you and hoisted his backpack up on himself, ushering you gently to step to the side as he pulled the door stopper from beneath and placed it in its corresponding place by the entrance, letting the door close on its own before pulling out the keys from the pocket of his jacket and locking the diner up.
he did all of this— completely unaware to the way you were trying to quiet down your sniffles behind him.
you were so sure he liked you back… now you just felt a little stupid.
of course— the one genuine guy you came across that you actually liked out of all the others that you’ve met, one that wasn’t like the rest and was sweet and funny and caring and so so attentive of you… didn’t like you back.
the one thing you truly truly wanted, you simply couldn’t have— you walking ahead of yuta in silence through the parking lot with your arms crossed as you wondered if the way he treated you was literally just because that’s how he was as a person.
a good person at that. way too good for this world, and way too good for you.
yuta didn’t know why you were so quiet, his chest a bit achy at the absence of your usual cheerful voice.
when you reached your cars, you barely even bid him a proper goodbye like you always did before you got in your car and sped away, leaving a perplexed yuta standing alone in the parking lot— eyebrows pinched together in clueless concern.
you were acting so weird, and you unfortunately continued to do so for the following week.
the next time you came into the diner (which was literally the next day), yuta was taken aback by how bloodshot and sunken your eyes were when you came in for your shift, not saying a single peep to yuji and him when you walked through the kitchen or through the bar counter like you usually did… and it was weird.
through the bustling of the busy restaurant, it was oddly quiet to the two boys, simply because you weren’t your usual boastful self.
and you were hardly talking to yuta either… which pained him the most. you kept it strictly casual— as if you weren’t completely tied together every fucking day for almost a year now, you just completely casual about your day and about the things you had to do whenever he asked you, your one word dry responses sending him through the worst confusing and sadistic loop of his life.
but it wasn’t casual at all. nothing about you was casual. so why were you acting like this? did you finally maybe open your eyes and realize yuta was a big fat nobody who didn’t belong with a girl like you?
yuta nearly cried at the thought. perhaps you had finally realized that.
but how fucking cruel was it that he lived a year of love and beauty and everything that was just you, getting a taste of what it would be like to live a life where you thought of him as something really special and a life where you wanted to basically do everything with him— only to be ripped away from him overnight? with no explanation?
by wednesday, yuta was dead inside.
you didn’t seem to want to do anything with him anymore like before. you didn’t excitedly jump and squeal and bounce on your little toes when it was time for the both of you to clean during your shift or restock the ice cream machine. you didn’t talk to him about elvis anymore or about another ludicrous idea on how to resurrect him from the dead— you didn’t smile like you used to whenever he tried to give you a small pastry, actually rejecting it instead, and you didn’t kiss his cheeks anymore.
by friday, yuji was fed the fuck up.
“what the fuck did you do?!” he whispered harshly at him from the bar, you somewhere in the diner taking orders. “that woman is like a walking zombie. her eyes have been red like red since monday, and she’s not yapping about elvis anymore.”
yuta leaned against the counter with a flat palm to his forehead in worry, feeling like he was gonna be fucking sick over you.
“i— i don’t know.” he stuttered. “i truly don’t know i don’t know what i said that’s making her act like that.”
“okay run it back for me run it back.” he placed both hands on his shoulders and roughly pulled yuta to face him. “explain to me again what happened on sunday.”
“we were closing…”
“uh huh?”
“she wanted to slow dance in the street so we did…”
“okay cute i love that part okay keep going..?”
“and then she asked why haven’t i kissed her—“
“she what?!” yuji choked, “you didn’t tell me this part! you fucking jumped to the parking lot!”
“my bad…” yuta muttered.
“shit— whatever keep going.”
“she also said that she thought i liked her and i said who doesn’t… and then i told her i was sure other guys would want to kiss her.”
“you said other guys?”
yuta’s eyebrows pinched. “yeah?”
“you. said…” yuji repeatedly slowly. “other. guys.”
“yes i did—”
“oh you’re done.” he rapidly shook his head. “i can’t help you i’ve done all i can you’re my buddy and i love you but i cannot take this anymore—”
“woah woah slow the fuck down—” he narrowed his eyes. “what’s so bad about what i said?”
“you rejected her.”
“what? no i didn’t—”
“yes!” yuji nodded frantically. “yes you did you freaking dingus! yuta she wanted a kiss from you a kiss! she literally said ‘when are you going to kiss me!’”
“i thought she was joking about that?” he answered softly.
“i might die early if you don’t figure this out right now.” yuji spat. “when you said other guys, she took it as you saying you’re sure other guys would want to kiss her and not you! do you understand what i’m trying to say?!”
yuta stayed silent.
“you said ‘i’m sure other guys would wanna kiss you,’ which is you indirectly saying ‘i’m sure other guys would wanna kiss you but not me.’ emphasis on others—”
“holy fucking shit.”
why was yuji kind of smart?
“oh thank god!” yuji breathed out, throwing his hands up in the air before clasping them together and looking up at the ceiling, his eyes screwed shut as he shook his interlocked hands and prayed.
“thank you! thank you elvis presley for finally making him see what a dumbass he’s been this entire year especially this moment your music has never been better—”
yuta shoved his fingers through his hair, his eyes bulging open. “holy fucking shit what the fuck did i do?!”
you walked past the bar just then and they both shot their arms down and tried to appear as nonchalant as humanly possible, you not even sparing them a glance as you walked over to the kitchen and disappeared from view.
“oh you have got to fix this.”
yuta spent the rest of the week trying to devise a plan to ease into the situation and have a conversation with you about it, but doing it fucking poorly as he miserably couldn’t come up with anything and yuji having even worse ideas— going as far as to suggesting he kidnaps you and takes you to elvis presley’s home in graceland and apologize there, yuji calling it a ‘grand gesture.’
by sunday, yuta was grasping at straws.
you slowly looked up from the bar as you saw a little sprinkled donut pastry slide across from the other side, your stinging eyes locking with yuta’s and feeling an immediate colossal pang through your chest when you saw him.
“you um—” yuta sighed softly through his nose. “you haven’t had a donut from here in a while…”
“oh.” your eyes stayed glued to the pastry. “thank you but i’m alright. i’m not that hungry right now.”
yuta bit his tongue. “please.”
he wasn’t pleading for you to eat the damn donut, but he pathetically couldn’t get the words out properly either.
“i don’t want it i’m okay.”
“why not?” he pushed. “you love donuts. you haven’t accepted my milkshakes either and you love those too.”
“i got sick of them.”
yuta froze.
you sounded like a completely different person at the moment, and yuta knew that your words held an entirely different meaning to them— his heart literally throwing up all over his insides in distress.
it was near closing time, the last pair of customers just about finishing up their meal as you both stared solemnly at the uneaten donut.
“are you—” yuta cleared his throat. “are you mad at me?”
the customers called you over then, and you quickly pushed yourself off from the edge and walked over as yuta heard your kind customer service voice from somewhere in the diner finalizing the bill for them, the bell above the door chiming as they left— you coming back around to stand back on the other side of the bar.
“sorry what did—”
“are you mad at me.”
you shook your head, eyebrows pinched. “no. why would i be mad?”
“are you upset with me?”
you hummed a no.
yuta wanted to rip his hair out at the fact that he couldn’t fucking think of what to say to you— not wanting to accidentally say something that could offend you like last time without him even knowing, as he didn’t trust his mouth for shit.
“you haven’t looked okay since last sunday.” he murmured. “you don’t look happy around me anymore.”
you pulled your lips into a thin line and pressed hard, already feeling tears threatening to spill.
“it’s just school. it’s tough at the moment.” you mumbled.
“you’re lying.”
you slightly snorted. “okay thanks.”
“no— fuck i did it again.” he screwed his eyes shut. “i know you’re upset with me and i know you’re mad at me. you don’t talk to me as much, you don’t— you don’t take any of the sweets and drinks i give you when you always do, and you refuse to talk to me about elvis.”
“it’s school yuta i don’t know what else to tell you.”
he groaned and pushed himself off the bar, swiftly making his way around the counter to stand right in front of you as your pretty red eyes widened, your body immediately fidgeting.
“please… i miss you.” he mumbled, and your bottom lip started to wobble. “i miss when you wanted me around.”
“i— i do want you around.” you said, so so softly he could barely hear you.
“then please tell me what you’re feeling.”
you brought your hands up and pressed your fingers into your eyes, trying your absolute hardest to keep the tears inside as your body trembled.
“it’s all me it’s not you so— so please don’t worry about it it’s school and— and—”
“i love you.”
you paused.
yuta shakily pried your fingers away from your eyes, holding them in his hands as silent tears escaped down your cheeks.
you shook your head. “no you don’t. you’re just saying that—”
“i love you.”
“stop it you’re being mean i don’t need you to tell me you love me because you feel bad for me—”
you tried to tear your hands away but his grip only tightened as he shook his head and wrung you in, pressing your hands flat over his heart and holding them there as he leaned and pushed his lips to yours, the taste and feeling of you complete fucking paradise as he hoped that the weight of his lips were conveying how much he truly fucking loved you, how much he truly needed you in his life and how much he wanted you to treat him like he was something to you again.
he was tired of you carrying around the missing half of him, but not because he wanted you to give it back.
he wanted you to keep it. he wanted you to keep it forever and ever and not let it dangle over ineptly like you’d done for the past week. he wanted you to kiss it and shove it next to your heart and keep it there snug where it belonged until the day that he died.
the jukebox murmured another soft 50s tune, you slowly but surely letting your tense shoulders relax as you allowed your lips to move against his, your heart screaming and zooming through your bones at the fact that this man was kissing you like you’d wanted and dreamed for him to do so badly for the past year.
you both slowly pulled away with your lips quietly smacking apart, your stunning face finally looking at him the way you always did, the way you used to, even if it was a little timid still.
“are you lying?” you murmured.
his eyes softened as he gently shook his head.
“absolutely not.”
“but you rejected me.”
he sighed through his nose, his hands still pressing yours over his heart as you felt it beat rapidly under your palms.
“i— i didn’t mean to. i swear to god i didn’t mean to.” he gently dropped his forehead against yours as he closed his eyes. “i was being stupid and worded everything wrong. but— but i’m telling you now that i wanted to kiss you… so fucking bad. you’re too pretty for me so i honestly thought i just didn’t stand a chance…”
you couldn’t believe it.
“i don’t want other guys to kiss you.” he continued. “not at all… just me.”
“just you?” you murmured, and he nodded against your forehead.
“just me.” he propped his chin on the top of your head. “i’m sorry i hurt you and made you cry.”
“no yu…” you spoke gently. “i’m sorry too. and i’m sorry i said i was sick of the sweets you give me… i was lying i love them.”
he chuckled softly.
“it’s okay… i know.” yuta gently caressed your fingers with his thumbs. “but i love you pretty.”
“i love you.” you whispered, and you slid your hands up his chest and around his neck, pulling him down in a warm embrace as he copied and pulled your body to his so so tightly, your hearts beating in time with one another as he felt his fingertips go numb at your confession, kissing your soft little cheeks over and over and over again until he got giggles out of you.
yuta loved sunday’s… and so did you.
and when he asked you to be his girlfriend that same night while standing over the jukebox, staring at the elvis presley song selection like you’d done many times together before in the past, yuta for the first time realized that he hadn’t felt alone since the moment you came into the diner with your mean friends— finding himself actually thanking them in his head for that, realizing that if they hadn’t then you probably would’ve left with them and he would’ve never gotten the chance to speak to you that night.
the next time you both came into work, you back to your usual jumpy self as you took every pastry that yuta gave you again and babbled about elvis and how you were gonna spend your hypothetical prostitution money on a flight to memphis to see his grave and pay your respects, yuji was elated.
“what happened?! you have to tell me what happened come on you can’t keep it from me i’m just a boy—”
you skipped into the kitchen then and smoothly walked in between them, pressing a gentle cute peck to yuta’s lips before grabbing what you needed from the back and walking back out, yuji’s mouth flinging open and his jaw hitting the fucking floor.
“how— what— when— where—”
you stepped back in after a second and bounded over next to yuta, his eyes soft as he watched you lean your head on his shoulder.
“what?” you asked. “what’s wrong yuji?”
“oh god no!” he wailed, dramatically throwing an arm over his eyes in agony. “i thought this is what i wanted but it’s not! i want a kiss like that man!”
he flew to his knees in front of you and took your hand in his. “y/n why can’t you just wait for me please?! wait five years you’re so pretty i won’t confuse you like this dingbat and i’ll give you better sweets and milkshakes than him please!—”
yuta took your hand and slapped yuji’s away. “you freak stand up man the floor is dirty—”
“i need a popular gorgeous girlfriend like you yuta! how could you do this?! i thought we were brothers?! what spell did you cast?! have you ever learned jujutsu?! what have i done!—”
your manager popped his head into the kitchen and you all stiffened.
“yuji why are you crying? everyone outside can hear you, kid.”
yuji flew to his feet and shook his head. “m’not crying sir. everything is fine just fine and dandy sir.”
“okay… well can you check on your tables? leave yuta and y/n to work.”
“yes sir i’ll check on them sir.”
your manager nodded, muttering something about today’s generation as he left and went back inside his office, yuji walking out of the kitchen shortly after with his head down as you both tried your hardest to keep your laughter in, hands tightly clasped over your mouths and silently snickering to keep yuji from hearing it on the other side.
“p—poor him.” you heaved, a hand over your chest. “i hope— i hope he finds his ‘popular girlfriend’ when he’s older.”
“i wish her luck.” he muttered, and your hand slapped back over your mouth again as you burst into another fit of giggles alongside him.
yuta sheepishly outstretched his arms for you once you both settled down, you perking up excitedly with a cutesy little grin as you skipped into them, your arms wrapping snug around his torso as he brought his around your shoulders and squeezed, earning a tiny squeak from you that made him laugh.
he hoped to god he wasn’t dreaming.
yuta started shifting his weight from one to the other, gently moving and swaying you side to side in the kitchen as you giggled and let him lead you like that.
“you slow dancing yu?” you murmured softly, head coming up to give him a kiss on the cheek as he blushed.
“yeah..” he hummed. “i like it when we do.”
“i do too yu… it’s like our little thing! we’re so vintage.”
he snorted, and a charming beautiful smile spread across your face— one that made him wonder how he ever managed to land you when all he did was wait tables and stutter foolishly and wasn’t anyone particularly special like you were.
but you. you were everything. everything and way fucking more as you looked at him like he built the diner himself brick by brick for reasons he still couldn’t understand why.
yuta spoke after a moment.
“…what do you think of me?” he murmured suddenly, cheek mushing up against the side of your head as your brows furrowed.
“what do i think of you?” you asked, your perplexed face slowly shifting to one of realization as it dawned on you how yuta was reiterating your words to him from when you first met.
he grinned. “yeah.”
you pulled back to face him.
“i think you’re kind… you always have been even when i didn’t deserve it.”
his jaw dropped. “what? didn’t deserve it?—”
“i’m not finished!” you pouted, and he playfully rolled his eyes as he shut his lips.
“you’re too good to me yu…” you sighed a little. “you’re so helpful and selfless, and even when things piss you off you still take the time to appreciate them… like yuji.”
you both snickered then, and yuta brought his head down and nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck.
“i love the way you love, yuta. i love the way you love me and take care of me and always feed me…” you giggled. “without me ever having to ask.”
you felt his arms tighten around you.
“don’t ever think that you aren’t special to me or anyone or i’ll kill you and go to graceland without you.”
he laughed loudly in your neck and pulled back, half lidded ditzy loving eyes staring back as he leaned in and kissed you— gentle and delicate, his hands coming up to cup your warm cheeks.
“jesus man table nine would not stop asking me for— oh god no!”
you and yuta jumped apart, yuji immediately wailing and crying again as he flung himself to the floor on his knees.
“really?! in my kitchen?! in front of my face?! how cruel can you be yuta?! y/n can you maybe give me a ki—”
yuta leaned down and smacked him upside the head.
“owwwuhh! what’s wrong with just one little kiss man?!—”
“cut. it. out!—”
and just like always, the week came and went, sunday fast approaching as the day eventually came to close the diner together like lovely clockwork— wiping down tables and sweeping the floors, organizing the menu’s and restocking the crayons for the little kids, gulping down milkshakes with yuta like water as you worked…
but most importantly— sharing long kisses in between each sweeping rotation, kissing and pinching his cheeks repeatedly whenever he asked or did literally anything, and slow dancing to the same 50s love song that played when you first tried to kiss him at the bar that one night, swaying together in a silly way and giggling whenever you’d both nearly topple over to the floor— yuta beaming and lovesick as he looked down at your gorgeous smile and your gorgeous face… it gleaming with so much purpose, so much pure love and importance and value for him as you danced—
that yuta decided he wanted you to keep the other remaining half of him too.
forever.
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this! is the song that was playing when reader was about to give yuta a kissy kissy on the bar counter, and again at the end if you’re curious :3 it was playing when i wrote it and it literally fit so well and lifted my entire body and spirit and i felt like i was THERE MAN! <333
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taglist!! <33 (THANK YOU THANK YOU!):
@cupcaketeddybehr @soobiary @roachfun @waterfal-ling @saebaey @reneinii @luvvmae @cake-with-the-cream @pixie-dix @2ukika @cramelmacchiao @hy3phiren @fushigurioo @wil10wthetree @jameinfrau @pancakeszs
(HATE when tumblr doesn’t let me tag some of yall i don’t know why it does that!!)
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dcxdpdabbles · 6 months
Text
DCxDP fan fic Idea: Danny Fenton's Ex
Danny wants to know that he did not go looking for a fight. He merely wanted to have some of the best hot dogs this side of the USA, in Tucker's words. The human world had changed a lot across differnt timelines but his best friend had assure him, this one was particually tasty.
He planned to pop in, hunt down the street cart filled with buns and meat, then pop out of Gotham. He was meant to visit for less than an hour at most.
He just happened to be at the wrong place and time. It really wasn't his fault! Danny had been minding his own business, using a paper map on the edge of a tall building (his phone had broken in the last ghost fight. Not that it would do any good since it wasn't connected to any living towers), squinting at the streets below, hoping to figure out where he was. The next thing he knew, an angry child leaped out at him with a sword.
Of course, he defended himself! The kid was doing some insane slashes in the air, and Danny had fought enough samurai ghosts to know not to underestimate how powerful a katana indeed was. He had been able to beat the child, encasing his arms in ecto-chains, after a full half hour of combat.
Danny had been dead tired- pun not intended- but just as he thought he was done, a second child had leaped out at him. This one carrying a bo-staff. It took another thirty minutes to beat this one, and just as he was gearing up for a lecture, a third child appeared.
She was wearing all purple and seemed to favor strong kicks. Danny had the bruise to prove it, but just as he could take her down—and stop the other two from escaping since they were attempting to do so—he was attacked by an actual shadow and her red bucket-head friend.
Now, those two were difficult to beat, especially when it was two vs. one. Shadow reacted as if she could predict all of his moves before he even made them, while Bucket Head made incredible shots with his guns covering her attacks.
Danny had already been expelled from his other two fights, so it was a miracle he was able to trick Shadow by allowing more of Phantom to bleed into his fighting style. She couldn't predict the dead!
He ended up on a roof with five children- okay, more like a child, two teenagers, and what could be the early twenties, but they were all young to him. Each was tied up securely with some of his own ecto-chains and glaring- he could feel the hate in their eyes even behind their masks- trying desperately to catch his breath.
"Oh boy, I'm not as young as I used to be. " He gasps between huffs. Maybe Sam was on to something when she lectured them for not having enough greens, normal exercise routines, or even taking vitamins. They really weren't teenagers anymore. "Ugh, I think I pulled something. I need to lie down..."
Just as Danny is allowing himself to slide to the floor, two more shadows jump at him. This time he's far too tired to dodge, and the blue one manages to land a drop kick to his chin. The force has Danny spinning in place, losing his balance, and slamming hard against the roof.
The tied-up children cheer, and if he wasn't a walking bruise right now, Danny would be half tempted to show them all a round two.
"Great Gatsby!" He cries out of reflex, rolling onto his back, ready to take a swing-
"Danny?" a new familiar voice cuts in. The sound is something Danny will never forget, even after all the years they have been apart. He used to fall asleep to that voice, muttering into his hair and warm arms wrapped around him, making promises never kept.
Danny whips his head around to see a man in a bat costume. He squits, studying the strong curve of a very familiar jaw and his voice-
"Wayne?" He blinks. Those lips- so familiar and different all in one- curve into a surprise, but please smile. Yes, that is definitely Bruce.
"Danny, I haven't seen you since-"
"You broke up with me through a letter on the hotel note-pad? A note-pad that I had to pay for since you touched it!?" Danny hisses, suddenly energized with pure, unadulterated rage. The man freezes.
"I, uh, see you're still upset about that." Wayne winces, shuffling on his feet- Bruce Wayne, the little human he found wandering the Infinite Realms, rescued, helped, trained, and had become human again to have the man dump him to "find himself."
Danny knew he found a lot of ladies on his self-discovery trip. He never forgave him. It has been embarrassing to have to return to the Realms to his friends' knowing eyes and his sister's sad shrug.
You knew a human could never understand or live with beings like us. We aren't like them anymore. She had told him. It was bond to end in disaster.
"What is happening?" The bow-staff kid asks
"I don't know, but I don't like it," Blue tells him.
Danny ignores them to glare at the man. "What the hell are you doing here, Wayne?"
Wayne frowns. "You used to call me Bruce."
"I used to do a lot of things, Wayne." Danny stands, gesturing to the group of people he has captured. "Can you kindly disappear again? I'm in the middle of something."
The man makes no move to leave. Instead, he tilts his head. "Those are my children."
"Of course they are." Danny rolls his eyes. "Tell them to not attack innocent tourists-"
"Are you here on vacation? Would you like me to give you a tour?"
The familiar words- the ones from their first date- make rage boil in his core. "Oh, go burn in the worst levels of hell!"
He doesn't stick around for a reply, twisting in a tight circle and ripping a hole into the Realms. He ignores Wayne's call of his name; it's too late- fifteen years too late- and shifts back into Phantom.
He prays he never sees that deadbeat again. Or the family his wife gave him. Not that Danny cares; it's been years, and he could care less what Bruce Wayne and his stupid kin got up to.
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"Bruce, I say this with all my heart, what the fuck was that?"
"That was the one I let get away."
There is a moment of silence before Damian speaks up. "I demand to be taken out of my misery. Mercy, kill me now, Drake."
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the-boy-meets-evil · 6 months
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on second thought | jww
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(where your roommate, wonwoo, has an interesting solution to all your bad dates. nothing can go wrong with two friends crossing a line, can it?)
pairing: wonwoo x f.reader genre: roommates/friends to fwb to?? | smut, tiny bit of angst if you squint rating: explicit, 18+ minors dni word count: 6.5k warnings: there's some plot here but it's mostly smut, multiple sex scenes (some quickly referenced), roommates who enter a fwb agreement, kissing, fingering, oral (f. receiving), protected sex, multiple orgasms, use of actual lube, some scratching, after care, mentions: masturbation, kitchen sex, teasing, overstimulation, edging, i think that's it.
authors note: happy birthday to my bby @wongyuseokie! i'm thankful to have met you through nets. i hope you like some wonwoo to celebrate. thank you to @wonwussy for helping me with a title, you're a savior. this is unedited because i only started it yesterday so sorry in advance. also tagging: @aaniag @gyuminusone
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Another disappointing date. Another man who couldn’t even seem to let you finish a sentence. Was so intent on proving how well he could provide for you that he forgot to treat you like a person. So intent on establishing his dominance that he tried to order for you at the overpriced restaurant with too-small portions. So irritated that he paid for your dinner and drinks only for you to leave separately from him and refuse his offer to drive you home. There was no way you were letting that man know where you lived. Is it really asking too much just to have a decent date? You aren’t going to let anyone try to tell you that your standards are too high. You’re really just asking for the bare minimum. 
That’s why you’re sitting on the counter in the kitchen of your shared apartment, spilling your guts to your sympathetic roommate. His hair is messy, sticking up at odd angles in some places because he’s been playing video games for hours. Probably streaming at some point. You admire that he’s able to do something he loves to fill up most of his days. He pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose and you try not to find it so endearing. But, you fail at that. He really is impossibly cute sometimes.
“Do you want a bite of this?” you ask instead, holding out the instant ramen you made as soon as you got home. 
“No, I ate earlier,” he answers. 
“An actual meal or a Wonwoo meal?” you challenge and he rolls his eyes.
“I ate real food. Go back to bitching about your date,” Wonwoo says. 
“I don’t know, maybe I was being too harsh,” you say. 
“He sounds like a fucking nightmare,” he disagrees. 
“Ugh, maybe I just need to redownload one of those apps,” you whine. Wonwoo raises an eyebrow at you. “Don’t look at me like that. I hate fucking on the first date, but I’m so pent up that I need to release it somehow. I’m going insane.” 
This makes him laugh, at least. It releases a little bit of the tension, too. You’ve lived with Wonwoo nearly three years and were friends for years before that. Nothing is secret between the two of you. Not anymore. The first time you realized he caught you getting off in your room because you didn’t think he was home was mortifying. Even if he didn’t seem to think it was a big deal. After you got over it, things settled. And in the time since, you’ve both heard the other doing a lot of things. Some of your friends think it’s weird, but you just chalk it up to the comfort of living with someone. After all, you would tell your female friends all about your sex life. Why was that weird to share with Wonwoo? 
“Toys not doing it for you?” he throws out. You only fix him with a glare. It’s more proof that you’re entirely too comfortable.
“Our walls are thin, what do you think?” you answer. 
Wonwoo snorts a little before seeming to consider something. “Why don’t we just fuck? Get it out of your system.” 
The sip of water you’re taking when he suggests that comes bursting out of your mouth. A real life spit take. Thankfully, he’s out of the blast zone. He looks unamused at water coming out of your mouth, but he doesn’t look like he was kidding. It can be so hard to tell with him. You think that you know his face well after all these years. But, you never thought you’d hear that coming out of his mouth, so you’re not sure. 
“Please give me some indication if that was a joke or not,” you say.
“It wasn’t a joke,” he says.
“Pretty clear indicator,” you mumble. 
“Is it that crazy? You think I’m hot…” Wonwoo starts. If you were still drinking, you’d spit out your water again.
“Uh, what?” you ask.
“You think I’m hot. Hao told me,” he says as if it’s no big deal. You’re mentally running through what the appropriate payback is for this breach of trust. “It’s fine. He told me because I was saying I also think you’re hot.” 
“I mean, thanks,” you laugh, still considering how you’re going to torture Minghao. “But, we can’t have sex.” 
“Why not?” Wonwoo presses. 
“Because we’re roommates?” you ask like it’s obvious. 
“So I can hear you fuck yourself with a toy or hear you fake an orgasm with another bad date, but us fucking each other is the line?” Wonwoo asks. 
“I don’t fake that many orgasms,” you scoff to buy time.
“Yes, you do,” he argues. “I can hear the difference. And I’m pretty sure you wouldn’t be faking it with me.” 
There’s a little bit of cockiness in the statement that shouldn’t be doing anything for you. But, it is. There’s also the very real possibility that Wonwoo does know the difference in the sounds you make. It’s not like you’ve bothered being that quiet since the first conversation where he heard you. What’s the point? The walls are pretty thin and you’re both adults. It’s not like you’re going to kick him out every time you bring a date home. And you’re definitely not going to only get off in the shower because it drives up the water bill. 
Beyond any of it, there’s also a little curiosity. Wonwoo is insanely attractive. Someone would have to be blind to miss that. He’s got that whole nerdy thing going on for him on initial inspection with the glasses and gaming. Or there’s the fact that he’s content to just hang out around the house, even with company over, wearing his pimple patches. But then, there’s this whole other side to him. It comes out when you’re both out with friends and he leaves the glasses behind. Swapping out graphic tees or hoodies for form fitting clothing and leather jackets. Casually leaning against a bar and whispering honey into some nameless, faceless stranger’s ear. 
And that leads you to the reason you’re actually curious. Sure, he’s heard you having sex with people you’ve been dating or just someone you brought home for the night. But, you’ve heard him too. If any of your orgasms sound faked, the ones he coaxes from the pretty girls in his bed sound anything but. There’s nearly always an incoherent string of praises. That thought alone has you considering his proposition. It has you shifting a little on the counter.
“Let’s pretend for a second that I’m considering this,” you start and he smiles. 
“Pretend, sure,” he echoes. 
“We’d need ground rules, right? Like we don’t want this to get awkward,” you say.
“It’s not gonna be awkward. But, we can set whatever makes you feel comfortable,” he says nonchalantly. 
A very strong, very hard to ignore voice in the back of your head argues against setting rules at all. Actually urges you to just drag him into your bedroom. Or his bedroom? Maybe you do need some ground rules. 
So, you talk. You don’t say that it’s only going to happen once because you never know what needs might pop up. The most important thing that you agree to is that nothing can change between the two of you. If either of you feels like it’s going to, then you have to talk about it because preserving the friendship is most important. It doesn’t matter what bed you have sex in as long as the other helps clean anything up. You’re not planning on this being a regular thing, so you don’t need to negotiate any kinks or anything like that. If it does become more of a thing, then you can revisit the kinks. There won’t be any weirdness about dating or talking to other people. This is just a solution between two friends that are both going through dating dry spells. 
Once the rules are set out, Wonwoo brings you into his room. Even though you’ve been in here more times than you could ever count, it feels different now. He tells you to make yourself comfortable on his bed. When he turns around to take his shirt off and toss it aside, your eyes map out his back. And, yeah, you’ve seen Wonwoo shirtless before, but never given yourself permission to so openly appreciate his body. His shoulders are impossibly wide and he’s in deceptively good shape for someone that hides under baggier clothes. 
“Should I take a picture for you?” he asks. It’s only then that you realize that he’s facing you. 
“Funny,” you say with an eye roll. 
Wonwoo crosses the space to his bed and settles next to you. The way he reaches out to pull your face into his own is so smooth. His lips are on yours before your brain has a chance to catch up. You gasp a little and pull back.
“What are you doing?” you ask.
“Uh, didn’t we just go over this?” he asks.
“No, I mean, we’re kissing?” you ask.
“What am I supposed to do, sweetheart, just get right down to fucking you without foreplay?” he asks.
You feel a little stupid for asking that because of course you don’t want to skip the foreplay. It’s just that you don’t want to force it, either. 
“Just let me take care of you,” Wonwoo says to keep you from overthinking anything. 
It’s not something that you expected to be doing. Giving up control to Wonwoo. But, it’s surprisingly easy when he starts kissing you again. Any thoughts that this might be weird fly right out of your head as soon as he deepens the kiss. Instead, your focus is on what a good kisser he is. The way his lips mold effortlessly to yours. The way his tongue licks into your mouth. The way his hands roam your body as if they’re trying to memorize every curve. 
You’re breathless by the time Wonwoo pulls back from you to pull your shirt over your head. When you changed after the date from hell, you hadn’t considered putting anything nice on. Hadn’t bothered to keep your bra on. What was the point when you were just going to be going to bed after having something to eat? Now, you’re wondering about that decision. Because your very hot roommate is drinking in the sight of you. It’s making you a little self-conscious, the way his eyes move over your body.
“Fuck, you’re beautiful,” he utters. 
It’s a little too intimate for you to respond to. It doesn’t seem to matter, anyway. Wonwoo starts kissing down your neck and working his way to your breasts. He spreads his kisses between them, rolling your nipple between his fingers when his mouth is on your other breast. There’s something so consuming about the way he kisses your body, like he’s worshiping you. Like this is a lot more than roommates helping each other out. 
He works his way further down your body, kissing along your stomach, stopping at the waist band to your shorts. Thankfully, he doesn’t give you the chance to overthink here either before he pulls the shorts and underwear down your legs. Tosses them off to the side for good measure. You’re totally naked in front of someone you find you do actually trust. And someone that, yeah, maybe you’ve thought about fucking before. There was no reality where you thought it would happen, though. Even if it does make a lot of sense. Every part of you truly does feel safe with him. He knows you better than most people in your life. Which clearly translates to this part of you. 
Since you’re so comfortable, you’re finding it easier to not be embarrassed at the way he’s got you squirming under the barest touch. The way he ghosts his breath across your center makes you let out a whine. It’s unfair, the way that he wants to take his time like this. It’s also unfair that he’s the first person to ever make your mind go this blank during sex. Nothing exists to you outside of this moment and this man.
Wonwoo moves back to where you need him the most, blows gently against your center. The sensation sends a shiver down your body. You barely hear him mumble out a “so pretty” before he flattens his tongue and licks a stripe up your core. There’s just enough time to think this slow pace might actually be the death of you before he goes back in. Using his fingers to spread you apart, he starts tonguing your pussy. A mix of slow and deliberate movements with faster ones. His thumb circles your clit before his mouth moves up there to give it the attention it needs. 
With his mouth on your clit, he presses one finger into your pussy. You’ve never really thought much about his hands and now you’re wondering how you missed them. His long finger pumps in and out of you quickly. It seems that he’s reading your body and can tell that you don’t want something too slow. There’s so much pent up in you.
“Fuck, please, Wonwoo. I need another finger,” you whine. 
“Anything you want,” he mumbles into your pussy. 
He slides another finger inside of you and it makes you clench around him. That only seems to make him move faster. His mouth continues to work along with his fingers and your hands grip whatever they can reach. You’re a babbling mess and you suddenly understand what you overheard from Wonwoo’s room. There’s something so hot about knowing he’s this good with his mouth and his hands. It’s got you coming hard on his face. Harder than you can remember coming before. 
“That’s my girl,” he praises as soon as you’re coming down from your high. Your hazy brain doesn’t latch onto it the way it clearly should.
He presses a gentle kiss to your inner thing and then pulls himself up to lie next to you. His fingers trace patterns into your skin while he’s waiting for your breathing to come back to normal. 
“Jesus, I guess I know why I always heard so much praise through the wall,” you mutter. 
“None as pretty as the sounds you just made,” he says quietly. It’s so gentle, so intimate. There’s a lot of love between you and one of your closest friends, so you don’t dwell too much on it.
You turn your head to face him. His eyes are still dark with desire, fingers still keeping contact with your body. There’s like some kind of bubble around the two of you where nothing else exists. It’s a comfortable feeling, even in the quiet. Something pulls you in closer to him and you can feel his erection brush against your leg.
“Oh,” you say quietly. “You know, I’m still a bit pent up…”
“Are you sure?” he asks. 
“What? I’m gonna come on your face but we can’t actually fuck like we meant to?” you joke, a little braver than you feel. 
“This was about you, not about me,” he says simply. 
“It can be about both of us,” you say, hand running down his stomach. He tenses a bit under your touch and it’s unfair. He’s got perfect abs and you kind of hate it. Kind of hate that it’s so hot to you, too. 
You run your hand over the outline of his dick threw his shorts, enjoy the sharp intake of breath at the contact. It feels like a sign for you to keep going. But, he grabs your hand and pins it above your head. Kisses you hard and desperate. All of his restraint from before seems to be gone now. 
“Don’t play with me, sweetheart,” he warns. 
“Then show me how good you can fuck me. You were so sure earlier,” you press back. 
Wonwoo rolls over and pulls his shorts and boxers off. Casts them off to the side with your clothing. He reaches into his nightstand and pulls a condom out. He rolls back over to position himself between your legs. 
“One final time, are you sure?” he asks. It’s the first time since you came into his room that you’ve seen him look unsure.
“As long as you’re sure too, yes. I need this Nu, please,” you say, a little breathy with desire. 
“I love it when you call me that,” he admits. 
With your go ahead, he slides his tip along your entrance. You know you’re still wet from his hard work, but he still reaches into the dresser again. He pulls out some lube and runs it along his cock. Once he’s done that, he puts the cap back on and tosses it aside. He presses his tip against you again and this time slides in, slowly. Gives you a chance to adjust. 
You’re completely at Wonwoo’s mercy like this, with his arms on either side of you like he’s caging you in. Instead of wanting to get out, you can only think that you wouldn’t want to be anywhere else. Your hands find their way to his arms, gripping him tightly as he bottoms out in you. 
“Fuck, you feel so good,” he hisses. 
“Nu, fuck, please move,” you beg. 
“Give me a second, sweetheart, I’m trying to adjust so it doesn’t end too fast,” he says, voice so impossibly deep. 
“Please,” you beg again. 
“Fuck,” he whispers. 
It finally does get him to move though, barely pulling out at all and fucking slowly into you, so deep. He’s filling you up in the most perfect way. Your nails dig into his arms, but you can’t help it. He doesn’t seem to mind. If anything, it spurs him on. Makes him pull nearly all the way out of you before snapping hard into you again. He repositions one of your legs so that he can reach a different angle. With each hard thrust, his dick hits exactly where you need him to be. The rhythm is fast, which is really everything you need for how stressed you’ve been feeling. Each thrust uncoils more of the tension in your body. Each moan seems to spur him on more. 
When he leans down to kiss you, it’s messy. A clash of tongues and lips and teeth and need, so much need. Your hands find purchase anywhere on his body they can, even as his own arms seem to be a little shaky. So, you pull him down on top of you, bodies pressed tight as he continues fucking you. You’re still so sensitive from the first orgasm that you’re building up entirely too quickly. Even though you wanted it fast like this, you’re a little sorry to think it might be almost over. 
Wonwoo must feel that you’re close by the way you’re clenching around him and begging for him to give you everything. He pushes himself up a little, just creates the tiniest amount of space between your bodies, and you miss it a little. Miss the feeling of skin on skin. But, he’s only doing it so that he can circle your clit. He just wants to take care of all that tension. You give control over to him completely. Let him set the pace. An embarrassingly short time later, you’re coming for the second time. He removes his hand but still fucks you through the high. 
When your body stops shaking, you realize that he’s stilled inside you. He’s barely even moving as he looks down at you.
“It’s okay, Nu, I’m not that sensitive yet,”  you assure him
“Thank fuck,” he whispers. 
His pace is fast and you reach up to run your nails down his back. That seems to get him like nothing else does. When you do it a second time, he hisses out and you know he likes it. Each time your nails find a new part of his skin, his thrusts stutter. You clench your pussy around his cock and that’s all he can handle. He’s coming undone. 
You return the favor through his high, lightly keeping the rhythm going and helping him settle his weight on top of you. His breathing is still heavy when he meets your eyes and gives you the gentlest kiss. Slowly, he slides out of you and rolls over. The next second, he’s up to dispose of the condom. He disappears into the bathroom and returns with a wet washcloth a few moments later, sitting on the edge of the bed to help you.
“Well, I guess I learned one thing,” you say when he gets up to take the washcloth back to the bathroom.
“What’s that?” he calls over his shoulder.
“All that confidence was definitely warranted,” you say through a light laugh. 
You can just feel him rolling his eyes. “And here I thought you’d have less to say after a good fuck.” 
“Nope, chatty as ever. No more tension, though,” you say. 
“I’m glad,” he says, but it looks like he actually means it.
You move to get out of the bed and look at the sheets. Probably in need of a change. “Hey, do you wanna throw these in the hamper and just sleep in my bed tonight?” 
“Are you sure that doesn’t break any rules?” he asks.
“No, we’ve done it…are you teasing me?” Your question morphs in the middle when you catch sight of his face. He can be such a shit for someone who acts like he’s chill all the time. 
“I would never tease you,” he says, faux seriousness lacing his voice.
“That’s a shame, I like being teased,” you toss back.
“I’ll remember that for next time,” he shrugs.
“Next time?” you wonder.
“Just go get in your bed, I’ll be there in a minute,” he says. 
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It wasn’t like you agreed for sex with Wonwoo to be a one time thing. That felt like putting too many rules in place. Still, you’re not expecting it to happen again quite so quickly. You also genuinely didn’t realize he was home when you pulled out your vibrator. But, he was home and he barged into your room without knocking, pulled you to the edge of your bed, and fucked you hard. Made you wonder why you’d ever even consider using your vibe in the first place. 
The next time comes after another failed date. It kind of seemed like that was the recipe. Something goes wrong or you’re pent up and he’s there to let you use him. Although, he’s really using you just as much. You like to let him be a little rough with you. There’s something satisfying in the way he doesn’t treat you like he’s going to break you. It’s unquestionably the best sex you’ve ever had, but that’s your business. You don’t need to share that with the class. You do figure that it might be time to talk about some kinks and boundaries, though. It would be good to be on the same page. 
That seems to be how it goes for a while, at least. It’s mostly you needing something, Wonwoo being able to sense that, and helping you out. It doesn’t seem to ever start from him being the one to need something. He doesn’t even seem to be going out and bringing people home so much anymore. Not that you’re keeping track, you just can’t remember the last time he did. Or maybe he’s trying to only bring someone home when you’re not around. 
He definitely holds true to his promise to tease you. One night, after a really long week at work with a lot of little things going wrong, he asks if he can take his time with you. In hindsight, you should have known it meant that it was going to mean teasing. But, you agreed anyway, and let him set the pace. Instead of hard and fast, he takes everything slow. He brings you right to the edge over and over again without letting you have your release. It’s insane how well he seems to read your signs. It seems like he can tell you’re close before you can. That night, it feels like it goes on for hours before he finally lets you come. It’s the biggest mess you’ve ever made. A fact that you would be embarrassed about if Wonwoo hadn’t looked so proud. Still, it feels like you’re the one always working something out.
Until it doesn’t.
One night, you come back from a night out with friends and are rummaging through the cabinets looking for a snack. This is the thing you hate about living with Wonwoo. He’s taller than you and doesn’t think twice about using the higher cabinets. You, on the other hand, can’t reach them so easily. You’re on your tiptoes trying to reach something when you feel him press into your back. His hand comes up and grabs the box you were reaching for with ease. You press further back into him when your heels hit the floor again.
“Fuck, you’re driving me crazy,” he mumbles into your hair. His hands find a place on your hips, holding you against him. This feels different from how every other time has started. 
“What do you mean?” you ask quietly into the silence of the apartment. 
He lets one hand slide down, quickly meeting the bare skin of your thigh. You know your skirt is a little shorter than normal, but the night seemed to call for it. “This. Did you go out hoping to bring someone home?” 
“Maybe,” you say, shivering a little at the way his breath tickles your ear. 
“Are you trying to tease me?” he asks. It comes across almost like a demand. 
You wiggle your ass against him a little before you answer. “I would never.” 
“Of course not,” he says. 
Everything that happens after that feels different. It’s never started like this. It’s been passionate, but it’s never been driven by so much raw desire. It’s never been the kind of sex where Wonwoo pushes your skirt up around your hips and pulls your underwear down to your ankles. Never been the kind of sex where he buries his face in your pussy while you grip the counter for support. Never been so desperate and needy and rushed. 
He makes you come twice on his tongue with your knees going so weak that you can barely stand before he even moves onto actually fucking you. You’re so weak by the time you finish that he has to help you to the bathroom to clean up before he tucks you into your bed. You’re so tired that you don’t even realize how intimate it is when you ask him to get into bed with you. 
The disappointment that sets in when you wake up to get some water in the early hours of the morning hits you hard. Entirely too hard for something that’s supposed to be free of feelings. Your bed feels a little empty without him taking up space. Which is really stupid because it’s not like that’s been something you’ve been doing all of the time. It’s not something you’re used to. But, there’s an unexpected comfort in him. Something that catches you completely off guard. As you drift back off to sleep, you resolve to deal with your feelings in the morning. 
That’s how you find yourself sitting on Minghao’s couch as he makes you both a cup of tea. He hasn’t asked about your roommate yet, but you know that it’s coming. He just wants to have everything he thinks you’ll need first. A few minutes later, he sets two cups of tea down next to the plate of snacks he threw together. If you weren’t in such a crisis, you’d have time to be envious over how pretty the presentation looked. 
“So things with Wonwoo have gotten awkward?” he asks without preamble. 
“Jesus, Hao, let me take a sip first, at least,” you groan. 
“I don’t want to say that I told you this was a bad idea…” he starts.
“You were the one who spilled the beans that I thought he was hot. This is your fault too,” you point out. 
“I told him that he wasn’t alone in thinking his roommate was hot. I didn’t tell you both to start fucking without realizing it was bound to blow up,” he says. 
“I know,” you sigh. 
“So, what’s going on?” he asks. 
Minghao is a lot of things. He can be a bit of an art snob. He’s that kind of impeccably dressed where he looks like he just stepped off a runway. He can appear a bit detached. But, he’s also one of the most thoughtful people you know. He’s complex and he cares for his friends more than he cares for himself most times. Both you and Wonwoo are among those he counts as his closest friends. So, he just listens as you lay out everything that’s happened since the first time you had sex. He doesn’t judge or interrupt. Patiently, he just waits as you get it all off your chest, including how you felt after last night. 
None of that really comes as a surprise. You know that he’s going to give you shit and be there for you at the same time. What does come as a surprise is what he says when you’re done laying out your issues.
“I haven’t wanted to set you up because I wasn’t sure you were in the right place for it, but I actually have a friend that I think you might hit it off with,” he says. “He’d definitely get you out of this whole Wonwoo funk you’re in so things can go back to normal.” 
“You wanna set me up?” you ask, surprised. 
“Yeah, I think it’d be good for you,” he says. 
“Okay, tell me about him,” you agree.
“He’s really kind. Kind of talks in a permanent pout, but it’s endearing somehow. He’s a giant softie at heart and he’s so incredibly loyal. He’s been talking about how he’s looking for something a little more serious. I think you’d like him,” Minghao says. 
“What’s his name, Hao?” you ask skeptically.
“Mingyu,” he answers and your eyes go wide.
“Mingyu? As in that hot model you’re friends with?” you ask.
“Yeah,” Minghao says evenly.
“Okay, you can see if he’s interested,” you agree.
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It’s been a couple days since Minghao threw out the suggestion of setting you up with Mingyu. The two of you have exchanged a few messages and he does actually seem really nice. He’s also funnier than you expected him to be. When he asks if you want to get dinner the upcoming weekend, you find you’re a little bit excited. 
There’s only one issue. You feel like you need to tell Wonwoo. You know that he’s not going to care, but it still feels weird when you’ve been fucking around. Maybe Minghao was right and the whole thing was a terrible idea after all. It’s hard for you to tell him when you seem to keep missing each other, though. Lately, he’s been playing video games over at Vernon’s place more than normal. Even if they’re streaming, something feels weird. 
“Hey,” he calls out from the front door, snapping you from your thoughts. 
“Oh hey,” you answer, looking up at him. He doesn’t meet your eyes as he moves to head back to his room. “Everything okay?” 
He stops to look at you when you ask that question and his eyes still look a bit distant. “Yeah, fine. Why?” 
“I don’t know, you’re being short with me,” you say. 
He just shrugs. “I don’t have anything to say.” 
“Okay,” you say, drawing out the first syllable. “Well, I just wanted to tell you that Minghao set me up with his friend Mingyu and I was thinking I’d go out with him.” 
“You don’t have to tell me about your dates,” he says evenly.
“I just thought…” you start.
“We agreed,” he interjects. “Enjoy your date whenever you go.”
“Thanks,” you say quietly to his retreating figure. 
The whole point of agreeing to go out with Mingyu was to get things back to normal with Wonwoo. It was clear that you had gotten in over your head. Now, you’re wondering if things are going to be able to go back to normal at all. This isn’t your normal dynamic. You always shared stories about dates, hook-ups, anything and everything under the sun. Your other friends always said it was weird for the two of you and you just ignored them. Now, you feel like you’re in it alone. Maybe they’re right and it is weird.
Since it’s a little on the later side anyway, you decide to grab something from the kitchen and just head into your room. You can go to bed early and forget that whole conversation even happened. That’s probably for the best. It’ll be easier to get back to normal once you’re going on dates again. Once you stop fucking your roommate like you could have ever done that without forming some kind of feelings. 
It’s the middle of the night when you feel someone slide into bed around you. A familiar scent slips into your consciousness as an arm slides around your center. You nestle back into the chest and know for sure that it’s your roommate. The same man you’re trying hard to get over.
“What are you doing, Wonwoo?” you mumble in sleepiness. 
“Don’t go on the date with Mingyu,” he says. He sounds completely awake. 
“What?” you ask. Your brain is still foggy from sleep. 
“Don’t go out with anyone else,” he says. 
That makes you open your eyes as the words bounce around in your brain. You turn over to your other side so that you’re facing him. His hair is messy and all he’s wearing is a plain white t-shirt, but your heart still constricts a bit at the sight of him. 
“What do you want, Wonwoo?” you ask, voice thick with mental exhaustion.
“Exactly what I told you. I want you to turn Mingyu down,” he says.
“Why should I?” you challenge. 
“Because, well, we’ve got this…” he starts and fumbles over his words.
“We haven’t got anything. You’ve been avoiding me for days,” you point out. “Hell, I asked you to stay in bed with me after you fucked me in the kitchen and you couldn’t even make it til morning.” 
“I know, but I was scared that night because I realized I was starting to feel something,” he says. “And then Hao texted me to tell me he’d finally given your number to Mingyu…”
“Finally? What do you mean?” you asked.
“He’s been asking for your number for months,” Wonwoo says through somewhat gritted teeth. “So Minghao told me you’d agreed to be set up and I don’t know, I guess I just decided…”
“To avoid me?” you supply. 
“I didn’t know what to do. And I didn’t know how to process you not telling me,” he admits. 
“You weren’t around for me to tell you,” you point out. “We’ve been fucking. I wasn’t just gonna be like oh by the way, I’m going on a date.” 
“Please don’t go on a date with him,” Wonwoo asks again.
“I will consider not going if you can actually talk to me,” you say. 
“About what?” he asks. 
“Everything you’re feeling and why this whole let’s just be roommates that fuck was stupid,” you say. 
“Whatever you want, sweetheart,” he says immediately. 
You sigh, realizing that you’re not going to be able to go back to sleep, and send Wonwoo to the kitchen to get you something to drink. By the time he’s back, you’re sitting up in bed and ready to have an actual conversation. 
You stay up entirely too late talking about everything between the two of you. It’s a little hard to believe Wonwoo is so open with admitting how he feels. It’s harder to believe that Wonwoo knew he felt something for you before the very first time you had sex. In his mind, it was clear that he wasn’t just offering because the two of you were friends. He offered it as a way to gauge your own feelings. But, after that first time, he kind of figured it was just sex and tried to detach himself from it. That was when you started to feel something for him. 
When he’s done admitting his own mistakes and feelings, you figure that it’s time for you to own up to your own. It was really silly to just make up his side of the conversation about why he didn’t stay in bed with you that night. After all, the one thing you both stressed before sleeping together the first time was that you had to be honest in your communication. That’s what friends did and you were friends before anything else. As it turns out, you’re both way more on the same page than either of you realized. 
“You’re wrong about one thing, though,” you admit. 
“What’s that?” he asks.
“It was never just sex for me. I was totally done the first time you kissed me,” you share, picking at a thread on your comforter to avoid looking at him.
“I kissed you before we even had sex,” he points out, incredulous. 
“Yeah, turns out I’m not so good at the just friends who fuck thing,” you say with a shrug. 
“If I’d have known that was all it took, I’d have kissed you months ago,” Wonwoo grumbles.
That brings you up short. “Nu, just how long have you liked me?” 
“I don’t know, a while,” he says. 
You just shake your head at him before pressing a gentle kiss to his lips. “Just talk to me next time.” 
“Can we go back to having sex now? I miss the feel of you,” he whines out. “And the taste.” 
“We literally fucked less than a week ago,” you point out to try and avoid the way it makes heat pool. 
“I could taste you every day and never get sick of it,” he says without any embarrassment. 
“Are we really giving this a try?” you ask.
“Unless you don’t want to,” Wonwoo says.
“I do, I’m just scared. What if we try a relationship and it doesn’t work?” you ask. “You’re one of my best friends. I don’t wanna lose that.” 
Wonwoo reaches out to tilt your head up. “We’ll just promise to be honest with each other. We can figure this out together.”
“Okay,” you agree.
“So, we’re doing this?” he confirms.
“Yeah, we’re doing this.” 
Just like that, you agree to take a leap with the only person that you’ve always trusted to catch you every time you fall. It feels scary, but also completely natural. 
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i hope you enjoyed it! 💕
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Sunshine [3] - Downpour
AN: My loves, thank you so so much for your wonderful support and lovely comments and HCs! ❤️ You're amazing! ❤️
I hope you like this as well, and please don't forget to tell me what you think, thank you! 🥰
Thanks to @chibi-lioness for beta reading!
Pairing: Logan Howlett x Female!Reader
Summary: Evening rain comes out of nowhere.
Word Count: 4540
CW: Smoking cigars, explicit language
Series Masterlist
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Fine.
Maybe you did have a crush.
And maybe the said crush was taking over all your thoughts to the point that you could barely focus on anything other than him, but that was completely normal.
Just like you and your best friend analyzing every single second of your interaction with your crush was completely normal.
“He actually lifted your car?”
You nodded your head, filling both her glass and yours with wine before tucking your legs under you.
“With one hand,” you said, leaning back to the arm of the couch. “He did that with one hand.”
“And you didn’t jump his bones right then and there?”
“No but I may have rambled about going to jail if the car fell on him and also not knowing who would take care of Theo.”
“What is that even supposed to mean?” she asked with a scoff. “I’d take care of Theo. We’d come to visit you every weekend.”
“Thanks Julie.”
“I’d even sign you up for those inmate dating websites.”
You blinked a couple of times. “Uh, no thank you.”
“Hey, if you accidentally kill the ridiculously hot mutant guy—”
“Logan.”
“Yeah, Logan. If you accidentally kill him, you might as well exchange some dirty letters with someone else.”
“Can we please focus on the fact that I actually have a crush on him?”
“We absolutely can,” Julie grinned, swirling the wine in her glass. “Aw look at you! It’s cute.”
“It’s not cute!” you whined, slipping a little on the couch. “Julie, I talk absolute nonsense whenever he and I cross paths.”
“Babe, I mean it in the best way possible,” she said and motioned at your face. “I doubt any guy really listens to any word coming out of your mouth when you look like this, so you’re fine.”
“So not true,” you stated and sipped your wine. “I mean either way, it’s not like anything could happen between us so I’ll just, you know, fantasize about him and gaze at him longingly. Should be fine.”
Julie rolled her eyes at you. “Come on.”
“No seriously, because Theo—”
“Sweetheart,” she said. “You got pregnant at 18. Don’t get me wrong, I think Theo is the most perfect kid in the entire world but keep in mind that while we were all out partying, you were taking care of a baby.”
“It’s fine, I lived vicariously through you.”
“And now that you’re in your twenties and hot as fuck,” Julie said, ignoring your comment. “You don’t think it’s time to live a little?”
“It’d confuse Theo if I started dating around, especially with Logan—”
“Fine, then don’t date Logan. Just fuck his brains out.”
“Nope,” you said, shaking your head. “I can’t do that.”
“Why not?”
“Because the moment I sleep with him, I will be trying to decide on the wallpaper of our future cabin in the woods,” you pointed out, getting a handful of popcorn from the bowl and she scoffed.
“I still can’t believe you want a cabin in the woods.”
“I want a cabin in the woods and I want a horse and a cat and two dogs,” you insisted. “Anyway, the point is, no strings attached is not a thing for me when it comes to a guy that hot. He lifted a car for me, Julie!”
“And you want him to lift you up and down repeatedly,” Julie said with a grin, making you throw a popcorn at her.
“I doubt I’m his type,” you said and she groaned.
“You cannot be serious.”
“No I am, because men like him go for…” you trailed off and threw your head back. “Ugh, I so want to show you his picture so that you’ll know what I’m talking about but I don’t have one!”
“I have this mental image of a very hot lumberjack in mind.”
“That would be correct,” you said before taking a sip of your wine, but then your phone started vibrating on the table and you frowned, then snatched it off the table when you saw the caller ID.
“Theo?” you answered immediately. “Are you alright?”
“Hi mommy!”
You let out a breath at the cheerful tone of his voice, then pressed a hand on your chest and checked the time on the phone.
“What are you doing up, bean?” you asked. “It’s late at night.”
“I couldn’t sleep,” he said. “What are you doing?”
“I’m with auntie Julie,” you said and Julie grinned.
“Hi Theo, I missed you sweetheart!” she called out, making Theo giggle.
“Hi auntie Julie!” he said. “Mommy, I thought about it, and I solved how I can have fish.”
You closed your eyes for a moment, a smile pulling at your lips as you shook your head.
“I’m listening, bean.”
“Okay so,” he said. “We will get two fish, and we will put them in an aquarium, but like a bowl, not a huge aquarium.”
You hummed.
“That’s where they’ll stay at the weekends when I’m there,” he said. “And then, on weekdays, I will bring them here, and put them in the lake, and that’s where they can stay within the week! They’d even make friends with other fish!”
You let out a small laugh.
“Theo, my love,” you said. “How will you catch them again if you put them in the lake?”
He paused for a moment.
“Um, I’d call them by their names,” he said. “Cheeto and Popcorn. They’d come.”
“Fish don’t do that baby,” you said softly. “How about you make friends with fish there in the lake and on the weekends they can just spend time with their own friends?”
“Yes but—” he started but then got distracted for a moment by something. “It’s my mom!”
“I know bub,” you heard Logan’s deep voice and your eyes widened. You sat up straight immediately, making Julie tilt her head in confusion. “Tell her I said hi.”
“Mommy, Mr. Logan says hi to you.”
“Uh, tell him I said hi back,” you said after a beat, hearing Theo parrot what you said as you covered the bottom part of the phone with your palm, then mouthed ‘Logan’ to Julie.
“What?!” she whispered and you cleared your throat.
“And tell him to please watch that you don’t have any sweets before bed, for his sake.”
“No!”
“Bean.”
“Ugh fine!” he said. “Mr Logan, my mom says please watch that I don’t have any sweets before bed for your sake.”
You could hear Logan’s chuckle, making you bite at your lip before he spoke.
“Can I borrow the phone for a minute Theo?”
Your jaw dropped and you motioned at the phone frantically, and Julie pulled you by the arm and made you lower the phone a little so that she could hear as well. You pressed your finger to your lips, signaling her to be silent before Theo’s excited “sure!” and there was a shuffling on the other line for a moment before Logan’s voice reached you again.
“So no chocolate before bed then?”
Julie gripped your wrist, mouthing “hot voice!” to you and you let out a giggle, trying to focus.
“Nope,” you said. “Trust me, it’s for your own good.”
You could hear Theo in the background; “I think I can have one chocolate.”
“No no,” you said, shaking your head. “He can’t.”
“Sorry bub, whatever your mom says goes.”
“Um, Logan,” you said, your mind going overdrive again. “If he’s up this late, he will turn the puppy dog eyes on for dessert, and he can be very, very insistent but sugar makes him incredibly energetic, and he will end up blowing a hole in the wall because of his powers so you can’t—”
“Relax princess,” Logan said and you could almost hear his faint smile. “It’s fine.”
Julie’s eyes widened and she fell on her back onto the couch dramatically, kicking her legs in the air while slapping the pillow and you stood up, your heart beating in your ears.
“How’s the car?” he asked and you licked your lips.
“Oh I changed my mechanic, so it’s at the new mechanic’s shop for a couple of days. My friend has been driving me to work—” Julie waved a hand from where she was lying down on the couch. “But apparently it’ll be fixed the day after tomorrow so it’s totally fine.”
“Are you being safe?”
“I am,” you said. “Are you?”
“Am I being safe?”
“Yeah,” you said with a smile. “What with lifting cars and stuff, it can be dangerous.”
“Half a chocolate!” Theo said as if it was the brightest idea in the world. “Half—Mr. Logan, can I have the phone back please?”
You ran a hand over your face and cleared your throat.
“Sorry about that,” you said and Logan chuckled.
“Not a problem,” he said. “Good night.”
“Good night Logan,” you said, your head spinning with excitement and you heard the shuffling, then Theo took a deep breath.
“Mommy, half a chocolate!”
“Not at night,” you said. “We’ve talked about this bean. You can have chocolate tomorrow morning after breakfast, okay?”
“But—”
“Theo,” you said. “After breakfast.”
He heaved a dramatic sigh.
“I know bean,” you said softly. “You’ll be fine, I promise.”
“Mkay,” he said with a huff. “I’m going to sleep then.”
“Okay, I love you!” you said. “Call me tomorrow and be nice to your teachers, okay?”
“I will,” he said. “Love you too!”
He hung up and you let out a breath, then tossed the phone on the couch while Julie sat up.
“Oh he talks you through it!” she said, slamming the pillow on the couch. “I just know he talks you through it!”
“Julie!” you exclaimed, your cheeks burning and she let out a laugh.
“Oh please, with that voice…”
“That’s what I mean!” you said and flung yourself on the couch. “He’s…he’s so amazing and Theo adores him and he’s so good with him too and to repeat, he lifted a car for me!”
“Aw,” Julie said. “He’s gonna be such a good stepdad to Theo.”
Your jaw dropped and you shook your head.
“We’re not even thinking about that,” you said, pointing at her. “We’re keeping our expectations very, very low, okay?”
She hummed, then tilted her head.
“Do you want to check Pinterest for cabins in the woods to see which one could be your and Logan’s in the future?”
You paused for a moment, then shrugged your shoulders.
“Yeah,” you said. “That sounds like keeping our expectations low, sure.”
                                                *
Despite having drunk until midnight and consequently having a hangover in the morning, the next day went without a hitch. You’d only had a couple of rude customers, which in service industry counted as a normal day if not a good one, but because of last night you were more than ready to get home, eat a bunch of snacks and go to sleep.
Towards the end of your shift, rain started pouring and you couldn’t help the whine escaping from your lips, leaning back to the counter. You could hear your friend Stacey’s small laugh as she looked out the window, then back to you.
“It’s just summer rain love,” she said. “It’ll stop.”
“Yeah but I’ll have to walk to the subway under that rain and I don’t have a coat with me,” you pointed out. “Ugh. Great. I’ll look like a horror movie protagonist by the time I get there.”
“This is why I am a huge advocate of waterproof makeup.”
You hummed, chewing on the pen in your hand as you grabbed your phone to check the weather forecast, faintly hearing the door opening behind you.
“It says it’ll rain until—what?” you asked Stacey when you lifted your head to see her raise her brows at something by the tables area and you turned your head to look over your shoulder, your heart jumping to your throat the moment you did so.
“Logan?”
Jesus, he looked way too handsome. He gave you a small smile, running a hand through his dark hair as if he was trying to get rid of the raindrops clinging to it, then approached the counter.
“Hey.”
“H—hi!” you said, your voice going way too high-pitched all of a sudden. “Uh, welcome! It’s so nice to see you, what—what can I get you?”
“I can take his order love,” Stacey said helpfully. “Your shift is over, get home before rain gets worse.”
“No no, I can stay.”
“I’m not here to eat actually,” Logan said, making you pull back a little.
“…Is Theo okay?” you asked, your stomach dropping as the thought hit you and he nodded his head.
“Oh he’s fine don’t worry,” he quickly assured you. “He was trying to name all the fish in the lake with his friends while I was leaving. I came to take you home actually.”
You blinked a couple of times.
“You drove all the way here from the institute just to take me home?” you asked just to make sure you had heard him right and he nodded again as if it was completely normal.
“You said your car is at the mechanic’s.”
One of these days, you were going to melt into a puddle in front of him.
“You really didn’t have to,” you said. “I’d hate to be a bother, and I’m sure you have other things to do, so I can just—”
“What did we say about you being too polite?” he asked, his voice almost chiding in a teasing manner, making warmth spread from your chest to your fingertips and a smile you couldn’t stop lit up your face, making you shift your weight, way too excited to just stand there.
“Um,” you said. “Just—just wait here okay? Don’t go anywhere.”
The corner of his mouth twitched in amusement. “I won’t.”
You took a step back, and rushed to the kitchen, making the line cook turn his head.
“Hey, leaving already?”
“Yeah. Paul, where’s the pie?”
“Over there,” he said, motioning at the counter. “What’s the rush?”
You grabbed the pie to put it into the container while Stacey entered the kitchen.
“Why didn’t you tell me you had a boyfriend, and more importantly, why didn’t you tell me he was this hot?!”
“What boyfriend?” Paul asked and Stacey motioned at the window.
“Look, right there.”
“He is not my boyfriend,” you said, your cheeks burning and Paul stole a look out the window, then let out a whistle.
“I was going to try to win you over but holy shit, that’s one hot dude.”
“And get this, he came here to drive her home.”
“He’s just being nice.”
“Car sex in the rain, got it.”
“He is my friend!”
“Oh really? So you’d be okay if I went out there and gave him my number?”
You blinked a couple of times and scoffed a laugh.
“Yeah but he…” you trailed off, desperately trying to come up with an excuse. “He has a girlfri—he’s married,” you changed your mind mid-sentence, nodding solemnly. “Yeah. He’s not wearing a ring because he is having it cleaned, and also he has—he has this condition that he can’t have sex with anyone. A disease.”
Out of the corner of your eye through the small kitchen window, you could see Logan tilting his head like a confused puppy.
“When he does, his partner’s… lower region just falls off, and it’s very gruesome, and if you haven’t heard of that condition, it’s because he’s like the only person in the world who has it, they named the disease after him,” you added. “Doctors call him a medical wonder.”
Stacey turned to Paul.
“She’s so gonna fuck him in the car.”
“She’s not gonna do that!” you exclaimed and cleared your throat, pushing the box into a plastic bag. “I’m—I’m leaving, I’ll see you guys tomorrow.”
“Theo doesn’t need a sibling yet, use protection!” Stacey teased you and you shook your head, then pushed the kitchen door and stepped out.
“Hey,” you said breathlessly, your whole face on fire and you held up the plastic bag. “The pie as promised.”
He gave you a calm smile, his eyes darting over you.
“You didn’t bring a coat?”
“Um no, but it’s fine—” you started but before you had the chance to say anything else, he had already taken his leather jacket off to put it over your shoulders.
“What about you?”
“Don’t worry about me,” Logan said as he opened the door for you and you stepped outside, Logan gently steering you to a truck with his hand on the small of your back, making you bite back a smile. As soon as you reached the truck and got in, you let out a breath and put the plastic bag on the back seat, then put your seatbelt on. Logan got in as well, then started the engine and began driving.
“Thank you,” you murmured. “Really.”
“No problem.”
“I could just put it in the GPS or…” you trailed off when you noticed that there was no screen or phone or phone holder in sight so you nodded to yourself. “I don’t—you know, I’m against being a prisoner to technology myself so I can totally relate, and yeah I’ll just put my phone here.”
You quickly found your home address and touched the screen, then carefully placed it on the dashboard and stole a look at him.
“Can I ask you something?”
“Sure,” he said. “As long as it’s not about my condition.”
“Your condition?”
“Yeah, that disease you were talking about just now?”
Your eyes widened, your jaw dropping as embarrassment hit you, your cheeks growing hot and a whine escaped from your lips.
“You heard that?”
“Mm hm.”
You slipped a little in your seat, burying your face into your hands, the sight making him chuckle as you took a deep breath and lifted your head to look at him again.
“I can explain,” you said. “It’s just that…Stacey is—you know, she’s incredibly nice but I don’t think she’s over her last boyfriend and I was trying to spare her feelings. Wait, did you want to get her number? Because if you did—”
“No.”
A small spark of hope shot through your system.
“Oh,” you managed to say. “Okay. Um, sorry I made up a nonexistent STD about you.”
“No problem,” he said with a smirk. “But for future reference, you might want to go with the wife lie. I can’t get diseases.”
You nodded slowly. “Because of clean eating?”
“Because of the X-gene.”
You blinked a couple of times, staring at him.
“Wait, what?” you asked. “But Theo got sick multiple times after his powers showed.”
“Not for every mutant,” he said. “My body heals itself.”
“Against everything?”
“Mm hm.”
“What if we had a car crash right now?”
“I’ve been in car crashes, healed in a second.”
“What if someone attacked you with a knife?”
“Happened before, healed instantly.”
“What if someone shot you?”
“Multiple people did in multiple wars. I healed.”
You tilted your head. “I’m sorry, wars?”
“Like I said,” he said after a beat. “My body heals itself. Against injuries, and time.”
You frowned slightly, trying to make sense of what you’d just heard and as soon as the thought hit you, you gasped.
“Oh my God, Logan,” you said. “Did you know Marie Antoinette?”
“What?” he asked with a grimace, turning to look at you better. “What is it with you and Theo and France? He asked me if I knew Napoleon the other day.”
You raised your brows. “Did you?”
“No!” he said. “No, I was born in 1832.”
Holy shit, Julie was right.
You did have a thing for older men but having a crush on an almost 200-year-old man was just a little bit excessive, even for you.
A silence fell upon the car and he glanced at you out of the corner of his eye. “You okay there?”
“Yeah, just in disbelief,” you muttered. “Do you miss it? Back then?”
He shook his head.
“Not really,” he said. “It was terrible. Now is better, it’s just a little too...”
“Chaotic?” you asked and he scoffed, then nodded.
“Yeah,” he said. “A little too chaotic.”
“I mean I wasn’t born in the 19th century but I know what you mean,” you said. “Seriously, if I could just live in a cabin in the woods with Theo and a cat, two dogs and a horse, I’d do it. I even have all their names.”
“What are the names?”
“I’m glad you asked,” you said. “The cat will be Catapult—”
“Are you seriously going to name your cat after a pun?”
“Damn right I am,” you said, counting with your fingers. “The dogs are Underdog and Overdog.”
“Jesus.”
“And the horse’s name used to be Princess Pink Sparkle Her Highness when I was six, but now I think I’m just going to name her Hi-Horse so that someone can tell me to get off my high horse one day.”
Logan looked like he was in actual pain for some reason.
“But listen, the list used to go like, a cat, a dog and a horse, and I figured like, if I get one dog, why not have two, you know?” you asked. “I couldn’t possibly leave Underdog without a friend, because as much as I love cats, they can be kind of assholes sometimes to dogs, they can’t help it, so that’s how Overdog came into being, and there were also ducks named Comma, Colon, Semicolon, and Exclamation, and their babies were going to be named Parenthesis, Dash and Hyphen but then I realized that would mean I'd need to have the cabin next to a lake, and ever since I watched that one creepy horror movie I’m terrified of lakes at night because I really don’t think we should mess with any bodies of water and—” you managed to stop yourself and cleared your throat. “Just…feel free to stop me when I do this.”
“I like it when you do it,” Logan stated without taking his eyes off the road, as if he was talking about the weather and your heart started pacing in your chest while you gawked at him.
“…People usually hate it.”
“People are idiots.”
“Someone I used to know would cover my mouth whenever I rambled too much.”
“And you didn’t break their hand?” he asked and you scoffed a laugh, then shook your head.
“Nope,” you muttered. “That sounds like a good idea though.”
“It is,” he said, reaching out to grab the cigar resting by the gear stick, and opened his window a little.
“Do you mind?”
“Not at all,” you said. “You smoke cigars?”
“Mm hm,” he said, patting his jeans for a lighter, then looked around the car before his hazel eyes fell on you. “I think my lighter is in the jacket pocket, would you…?”
“Oh sure!” you said and felt around the leather jacket over your shoulders, then pulled out the lighter and flicked it, the warmth caressing your hand for a moment before you held it out for him. Logan stole a look at you, his gaze stopping on your face illuminated by the flame before he leaned in to hold the tip of the cigar to the flame.
You had no idea why, but it felt strangely intimate.
“Thanks,” he murmured and you offered him a hesitant smile, flicking the cap of the lighter back before carefully placing it beside the gear stick.
“Sure,” you said, trying to snap yourself out of it. “Um, I used to smoke cigarettes. Mostly to look cool.”
“Did it work?”
“Not really,” you admitted as he stole a look at the GPS, then back at the road. “Never a cigar though, do you mind if I try it?”
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah.”
Corners of his mouth curled upwards. “Are you trying to look cool right now?”
“Hey, if you don’t think I’m cool after learning my future pets’ names, I don’t think a cigar is gonna help it.”
That coaxed a chuckle out of him and he held out his hand so that you could take the cigar from him. The moment your fingertips brushed against his skin, his hand twitched, a warmth spreading from your hand to your whole body. You swallowed thickly, your heartbeat getting faster and you brought the cigar to your lips with a trembling hand, then took a drag.
“Don’t inhale—” Logan started but you had already inhaled the smoke, a sharp pain stabbing you in the chest as soon as you did. Logan pulled over and through the coughs, you realized you were right in front of your apartment but you couldn’t even thank him as you pounded your chest with your fist, then took a deep breath and wiped at your eyes with one hand while handing him the cigar back with the other.
“Ugh, that’s terrible!” you whined. “You smoke that willingly?”
“You’re not supposed to inhale it.”
You made a face and wiped at your eyes again, sniffling.
“Not supposed to inhale it?” you repeated as you straightened your back to look at him better, your brows pulled together in almost a petulant manner. “What’s the point of it then?”
The calm smile that graced his lips was almost taunting and he reached out to wipe at the remnant of a tear under your eye with a knuckle, your breath catching in your throat.
“The taste, princess,” he said, his deep voice sending an excited shiver down your spine as he pulled his hand back. “The taste is the point.”
…Oh.
Oh you were so going to melt in front of him one of these days.
That wasn’t supposed to sound as suggestive as it did, you were sure of it but that did nothing to stop the fire spreading over your cheeks, making you shift a little in your spot before he nodded to the window.
“Is this your place?”
You had to force yourself to drag your eyes away from him and looked outside even if you knew where you were, then nodded fervently.
“Yeah!” you said. “Yeah that’s—that’s me.”
A silence fell upon the car and you cleared your throat, trying to snap out of the daze you were in.
“Thank you,” you said after a beat. “For…for all of this, really.”
“Don’t mention it,” he said and you looked outside again, now realizing the rain had stopped so you grabbed your phone off the dashboard, unbuckled your seatbelt and slipped the jacket off your shoulders, his unwavering gaze almost too hot on your skin.
“Good night Logan,” you said softly and opened your door to step out of the car, then made your way to the building. You climbed up the stairs, a giggle you couldn’t stop escaping from your lips as you unlocked your door, then stepped into your apartment and closed the door behind you before leaning back against it.
“Alright…” you breathed out, your heart beating in your ears. “Yeah, okay. I definitely have a crush.”
803 notes · View notes
satoruxx · 7 months
Text
SAUDADE.
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✧ PAIRING: gojo satoru x f!reader, geto suguru x f!reader | 3.7k words
✧ SUMMARY: canon au, set after geto leaves so lots of unresolved feelings, alternate between past and present, megumi and tsumiki cameo, satoru has a raging crush on you but you're blind, suguru also had a raging crush on you but you were still blind, slight angst bc canon jjk events, lots of longing on suguru's end, you're confused af, satoru PINES for you and shoko is so tired of him, but overall very fluffy
✧ RHEYA'S NOTE: will i ever publish the actual canon au? who knows. this fic is written in that same au but it's just a snippet of their lives. if you've read angel on my shoulder, just know that's an alternate ending of this au where reader dies lol. but this is very sweet bc you don't die !! you and satoru love each other lots but suck at showing it. happy valentine's day everyone <33
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you glance at satoru's giddy smile, wariness creeping up your shoulders before turning to shoko. "what's wrong with him?" you ask, shifting slightly from where you're leaning against one of balconies of jujutsu high.
"who knows?" she sighs, eyes flickering up to glance at the snowy haired sorcerer just barely before they turn back to you. "ignore him."
"hey!" satoru huffs, walking closer to sling an arm around your shoulder—casual, like it's something he doesn't have to think about. you grumble under the extra weight, shooting him a glare, but he's too busy smiling like he's up to something.
"so…" he grins down at you, eyes shining and full of mischief. "know what day it is today?"
you blink at him, trying to scour your brain. "what's the date again?"
satoru gives you a blank stare, before sighing heavily. "god you're slow. it's february 14th, stupid."
"oh," you reply blankly, relaxing because it's nothing inherently important. "so valentine's day?"
satoru's smile comes back full force—cheeky and blinding. "exactly! and when i went shopping today guess what happened?"
"what happened?" shoko asks boredly, shaking her head when she makes eye contact with you.
"well," he drags out the word, crossing his arms like he's pleased with himself. "i was walking along after picking up some sweets because—"
"because you have an addiction," you supplement, and satoru pauses to glare down at you, reaching out to flick a long finger against your forehead.
"it's not an addiction! and don't interrupt me! anyways—"
you smother a smile that shoko mirrors.
"—i was walking and then these two girls came up to me all smiley. like they were giggling and shit, right?"
"uh huh."
"and they started going on and on about how i was the most handsome guy they've ever seen. and then they asked how come i was walking around by myself on valentine's day."
you blink, suddenly feeling a strange mix of interest and irritation.
"so i told them that it's not really my thing and that i didn't have anyone to celebrate with anyway. and then they said it was actually a crime that someone like me was single on valentine's day."
you have to suppress a roll of your eyes, though you're not sure why.
"so basically the moral of the story is that i'm extremely charming and super good-looking too! and that girls love me!"
he looks at you, eyes scrutinizing your expression as you glance at shoko, unimpressed.
"that's it? that's your crazy story?"
"well you guys always say i'm full of it when i call myself hot! now i have proof that it's a universal truth!"
"well we're not stupid—" shoko rolls her eyes, hugging her arms to push away the cold as she leans against the railing. "—we know you're freakishly hot. you're just obnoxious and we like teasing you."
"ugh." satoru rolls his eyes, huffing as he stretches his joints. "you guys are ridiculous. and—"
he pauses, an odd expression crossing his face as he blinks in thought. then he's turning to you with the most smug smirk you've ever seen on him. "wait. you think i'm hot?"
you frown, lips parting in mild confusion. "huh?"
"that's what shoko just said. that you think i'm freakishly hot."
your brows shoot up, an unfamiliar rush of heat crawling up your skin. "but she said both of us! like it's just something that's obvious. i mean as long as you have eyes anyone can see—"
"oh so it's obvious, is it?" satoru's expression is oddly giddy, a pink flush settling high on his cheekbones.
you gape at him, suddenly speechless. you don't remember satoru ever having the ability to make you speechless before.
you can't comprehend the stirring in your chest—uncomfortable and unfamiliar.
"you—" you scoff, reaching up to shove him away. "you're full of shit. doesn't change no matter how hot you are."
shoko has gone quiet, eyes darting between you and satoru with an uncharacteristic glint of curiosity. but satoru's gaze does not stray away from you, pearly whites on full display as he licks his lips. he doesn't say anything else, running his fingers through his hair.
"sure sure," satoru hums—pleased. "whatever you say."
you throw shoko an exasperated glare, and she shakes her head, though there is a shine of amusement in her eyes—like she knows something that you don't.
"i mean, they were right you know?" satoru ponders, leaning back against the railing. "why aren't we doing something fun today? we used to go out and buy a shit ton of chocolate back when—"
he stops, expression going sour, before disappearing all together. there is a clear absence, one that the three of you notice but try not to linger on.
("valentine's day?" suguru had asked years ago, glancing down at you with a smile. "you like it?"
"definitely not," you reply, cheeks warming as you fiddle with the sugared churros in your hand, unable to look at him. "what's so great about a day where couples spend a shit ton of money on each other to make the rest of us singles feel miserable?"
a muted chuckle, and when you look up suguru's eyes are shining with mirth. "i'm sure you wouldn't think that if you weren't single."
"i guess," you huff, glancing at the sidewalk. your face feels like it's on fire—but suguru has always had that effect on you. "not very likely to happen though."
the expression suguru throws you will linger in your mind until the day you die. "what do you mean?" he asks—incredulous, like you were speaking nonsense. he stops in his tracks, the busy streets bustling around him as you continue to walk.
you take a bite of your churro, glancing back at him with clear confusion. "huh? oh i just meant me dating someone is unlikely," you shrug, though suguru looks speechless, lips parted and eyes wide behind dark bangs.
"why on earth do you say that?" he asks, shoving his hands into his pockets. he seems to visibly shake off his initial shock to continue walking, and you patiently wait for him to rejoin your side—he does.
"i don't know," you say, somewhat bashfully because you don't usually talk about these things with him. "do you really think there's room for things like that in our lives?"
"do you?" he counters, and you're too busy formulating your answer to notice that he's oddly interested, eyes continuously darting over your face.
"i mean, it'd be great if there was," you ponder, taking another quick bite. "it'd be nice to be able to settle down with someone even after all the crap we've gone through."
"right…" suguru seems to nod along with you, matching your steps even with his longer stride.
"but—" you stress. "considering that most of us are too traumatized or dead by that time, i don't have much faith."
you laugh at your own statement, but there isn't much amusement in it at all. putting it into words makes you truly realize how shitty your lives are even at such a young age.
your mind drifts to the cerulean eyed sorcerer who's currently off in a different city, being made to fight because he is god on earth in a seventeen year old body. it drifts to a brown haired girl who sits, secluded in a room as bodies are sent to her on a conveyor belt, her hands outstretched to feel blood and gore and horror day in and day out. then it drifts to the boy who is most like you, the one with the dark bangs who rationalizes this pain, this service you have devoted yourselves to with the need to do good for others—because there is no other explanation for why you have to go through this.
the same boy who takes your answer in critically, eyes heavy with an oddly somber sheen. he doesn't say anything, thinking hard, and you focus on eating your churro because you've never once found silence with suguru to be uncomfortable.
you are halfway finished when he breaks it.
"well…" suguru's voice is oddly high, a tick of nerves that doesn't usually infiltrate his calm tone. "if there was room for it, what would a good valentine's day look like for you?"
you laugh, loud and unfiltered, and suguru's skin flushes at the sound.
"i don't know!" your laughter dies down into hushed giggles. "i can't think of anything. besides this is stupid as hell!"
"indulge me," he says quietly, and when you turn to look up at him he's staring at you deeply—eyes hooded and smile gone. you suddenly feel oddly parched as heat crawls up your neck.
"um—" you swallow, the churro in your hand forgotten as you glance at the sidewalk again. "i-i'm not sure. i've really never thought that much about it."
"would you want flowers?" he asks. you suddenly become acutely aware that his voice has gone lower, throaty and deep in a way that sends chills up your spine.
you shake your head quietly, somehow nervous to look at him. "it makes me sad that they die off in a few days. better to keep them planted than cut them for a bouquet."
a quiet huff of laughter—fond and nostalgic. "that's on par for you. very in-character."
you lick your lips, tasting the sugar from the treat in your hand. "i guess…maybe i'd like chocolates?"
"chocolates?" suguru repeats, like he's surprised. you don't know why his reaction has you stumbling, but you shake your head quickly, appalled that you're even telling him this in the first place.
"i mean—it's not a big deal or anything! even just a small box of them would do! i don't really care anyway—"
"i would've guessed you'd like a plushie or something along those lines." he hums, a small smile stretching across his face. there's a dust of color blooming across his cheekbones, and you think he looks unfairly charming.
"that's good too!" you reply, too quickly, before catching yourself and ducking your head. "i mean…i don't know. plushies are really cute. i think they'd be a cute gift."
there's a beat of silence, and when you look up suguru is smiling at you like you've just put the stars in the sky for him. he hums to himself, eyes darting around the streets and looking much more at ease than he did a few minutes prior. you find yourself unable to look away.
"what would you want?" the words escape before you can stop them.
"me?" he asks, tilting his head in mild surprise.
"yeah. what would you want for valentine's day?"
suguru blanches, gaze darting over your facial features with shocking speed. it lingers on your eyes, before flickering downward, then shooting back up. you're trying to trace them but they're too fast, and he shuts them before you can process anything. he keeps his eyes closed as you curiously await his answer.
to this day you don't quite understand what he meant.
"anything i can get," he answers with a rueful smile, shaking his head at you fondly. his eyes bore into yours with an intensity you've never seen before. "anything at all.")
a familiar voice tickles your ear amongst the silence even now, and you rub your palms together. you can feel satoru's gaze on you, trailing over your expression—searching, analyzing.
you let him—used to it.
"that's enough of that for now. plus don't the two of you have to go check on the kids today?" shoko asks, eyeing the two of you pointedly. her voice has a strain to it, one that you can only pick up because you've known her so long. but you're grateful for the change in subject as you glance at satoru, who checks his phone.
"ah shit. they should be back from school by now but we were supposed to pick up some groceries beforehand," he mutters under his breath before looking down at you. "you wanna head over there first and i'll go get some stuff?"
"sure," you reply, patting shoko's shoulder in farewell. satoru steps closer, digging into his pockets before dropping the apartment keys into your palm. he pushes his shades up the bridge of his nose, eyes trailing over your face like he's searching for something, and yet you can't make out what.
a beat of silence.
"d-don't forget to get some of those cookies tsumiki said she liked last time." you drop the keys into your bag and shrug off the odd feeling of this conversation—something strange that you don't feel like looking into because you're scared of what you'll find out about yourself.
satoru's eyes go soft, a mixture of somber and affectionate, and he smiles easily. "you got it." he reaches out to ruffle your hair, licking his lips as he heads for the door. "see you later."
you watch him go, and think that you'd rather have him by your side. but you keep that to yourself—so used to sewing your mouth shut.
("which do you want?" you ask satoru, who peers at the shelves over your shoulder. his close proximity does nothing to you, but he seems oddly giddy when he glances at your side profile.
"hmm, the white chocolate," he answers, low and hushed, like it's meant only for you to hear. you can feel the energy radiating off of him—can feel it shake your very soul.
"okay," you reply, reaching up for the box, but satoru beats you to it. he stretches up, towering over you and you shoot him an playful glare. he had gotten a growth spurt over the holidays and wouldn't let you forget it.
"aw this is so sweet of you," he teases, excited and all too pleased. you roll your eyes, hiding a smile.
"you're the one who's been bugging us for valentine's day chocolate."
"like it wasn't a good idea," he counters with a grin. "even if we're all single we should still get chocolate."
you snort in amusement, before turning to call out across the aisle. "suguru which one should i get you?"
the dark haired male meets your gaze, and the warmth of it sends a tickle through your stomach. he shakes his head with a gentle smile, eyes crinkling at the corners. "don't worry about it. you know i'm not big on sweets anyway."
you deflate—he smiles at you like he's happy you asked.
"you can give me his share," satoru interjects with a playful smirk, pressing his palm into your shoulder. you shake your head in exasperation.
"no way. i'm still going to get him something." your eyes dart across the shelves, before you reach up and pull down a box of unsweetened chocolates, tied with a red ribbon. "this should be good."
satoru eyes the box, and you glance at him. "suguru would like these right?"
"yeah," he shrugs, before crossing his arms. "as long as they aren't crazy sweet. he hates sweet stuff."
"okay good. then i'll get him these!" your smile stretches wide, and it doesn't go unnoticed.
"you're being awfully thoughtful today," satoru comments. you look at him quickly, quirking a brow.
"well i can't just get you one. you're not my only friend." you shoot back.
satoru grins. "guess that's true."
his arm takes its position around your shoulder as you head towards the counter.
"you were really particular about getting suguru something though. any special reason?" he pipes up, and you immediately go still, looking at him as you try to bite back an uncharacteristic surge of panic.
"of course not! i got something for everyone. i even got shoko the rum and raisin chocolates." you say quickly, fighting the urge to crumble under satoru's implications. "besides this was all your idea anyway!"
you dig into your wallet, pulling out exact change and smiling at the cashier, who puts all of your chocolates into a bag. you decide you'll gift them later, when you're in the comfort of the dorm.
"okay let's leave—" you pause when you turn around, breath catching.
because satoru is staring at you, an odd expression on his face. there's something behind his eyes—realization mixed with another emotion you can't quite place.
you're not sure if the expression excites you or scares you.)
you don't expect tsumiki to be so excited when you push open the door. she bounds out of her small bedroom, practically tripping over herself as she chants your name over excited giggles.
"hey kiddo, how was school?" you smile as she throws her arms around your waist. you pat her hair, making a mental note to take her for a haircut sometime soon.
"good! my friends gave me some chocolates today!" she's giddy as she says this, and you smile playfully.
"oh yeah? any boys?"
she immediately flusters at your quirked brow and teasing grin. "of course not!"
you laugh, patting her head again as you take a seat on the couch. "okay okay! where's your brother?"
you don't see the dark haired nine-year-old anywhere. normally he'd be doing his homework at the kitchen table—so much more diligent than you ever were at that age.
"he's in his room," tsumiki answers, and your eyes catch the sneaky bit of amusement in her face.
"doing what?" you ask curiously. she smothers a smile, shrugging.
"i'm not sure." she raises her voice to call out. "megumi! she's here!"
you can hear him grumbling down the hall, hear his little footsteps padding across the floor—affection swells within you.
you think back to the day satoru dragged you to meet him, and you internally remind yourself to thank him.
"hey gumi." you offer the kid a smile, though it falters when you notice the way his hands are hiding behind his back even as he mumbles a quiet greeting in return. "what's wrong?"
"i…" his voice catches, and you notice the heavy pink flush crawling up his neck and into his cheeks. "i just wanted to…"
he trails off again, and tsumiki nudges him discreetly. "just do it!" she whispers, not all that quietly. your eyes dart between them in confusion, and megumi tries to sink into his sweater's collar.
"megumi what's wrong? are you okay?" there's a note of concern you can't keep from your voice, and tsumiki gently pushes him closer to you. "did something happen?"
"no…" he mumbles, attempting to hide his face even more. "i just wanted to…give…"
you blink owlishly. "give…?"
megumi lets out an exasperated huff, brows pinching helplessly before thrusting his arms into your line of sight. "here!"
your lips part. in his little hands are a box of chocolates and a small stuffed bear.
"this is…" you trail off, taking them from his hands.
"he wanted to give you something for valentine's day! to show you how much he appreciates you!" tsumiki interjects, practically bouncing on her feet.
"no i didn't! it's just chocolates stop making it sound like such a big deal!" megumi immediately snaps, glaring at his sister. you can practically see his cheeks burn with embarrassment, and you think you will never stop caring for this kid. there's a tickle of a distant memory—small fists clenched around a backpack and deep green eyes that stare up at you in childish apprehension.
those same green eyes now sneak glances at you, assessing your reaction, and you decide to put him out of his misery.
"this is so sweet megumi. thank you!" you smile at him gratefully, touched beyond recognition. your heart swells with affection once more.
megumi shoves his hands into his pockets, a stubborn pout on his face that makes the fat of his cheeks look that much more endearing. "whatever, it's not a big deal."
tsumiki shoots him a glare, before turning to you with a wide smile. "he says that but he was really excited to get you something!"
megumi gapes at her, eyes going wide in betrayal before they narrow. "shut up! besides it was gojo-san who gave me the idea!"
you blink, before smiling somewhat gingerly. though there is a strange sort of satisfaction in you when you hear those words—the mention of satoru's name. as detached as he tries to remain, you know all too well how much more there is to his character.
"i thought gojo-san would suggest flowers," tsumiki ponders, reaching out to squish the little bear before looking at you curiously. "aren't flowers a typical gift to get someone for valentine's day?"
you shrug, smiling carelessly. "i guess so. but i'm glad he didn't because i don't really like flowe—"
it hits you. echoes of a conversation that occurred many many winters ago. it washes over you, a refreshing tide that cools your skin and tickles your face.
of course, it made sense now that you thought about it. there were no secrets between satoru and suguru after all.
a chime cuts through the silence. you glance down at your phone to see a casual text from the snowy haired wonderboy who has been by your side since the beginning, and you can't help but smile.
i'll be home in a minute :P
a promise that has remained constant all these years.
so you type back.
hurry back. waiting for you.
you smile to yourself, heart thudding heavily against your ribcage. "hm."
tsumiki quirks a brow. "what?"
"nothing," you shake your head, wetting your lips as you reach down to tuck a strand of her hair behind her ear. she smiles at you, stars in her eyes, and you think you'll remember that smile forever. "i was just thinking."
"about what?" megumi can't stop the curiosity from seeping into his voice as he peers at you. you grin, gently patting his head with the bear plushie and laughing when he swats you away.
"valentine's day," you answer, smiling at them as you stand up to head to the door. you already know who's about to knock. "i was just thinking that it's not too bad of a holiday."
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1K notes · View notes
cutieln4 · 3 months
Text
Matchmaker | LN4
lando norris x fem!reader, background lestappen
summary: you try getting involved in max and charles' love lives, and it turns out they're also trying to get involved in yours
At the age of 21 years old, you joined McLaren after becoming a champion in all the junior categories. This made you the first woman in modern F1, and the first woman in several decades. And if people thought that Lando had a lot of energy, they had not met you yet.
Now that your rookie season was halfway done with, you've learned two important things. 1) Lando was very easy to get along with and 2) Max and Charles were certainly in love. 
There were a couple times when you had been on the podium with them, and of course you loved being on the podium, but having to third wheel that pair would drive anyone insane. 
So, when you got back from the summer break, you decided to make it your mission to get them together. Step 1 was telling Lando about your plans.
"Landooo!" you called out as you saw him walking in the paddock up ahead, running to catch up with him. 
"Hey, Y/n/n," he greeted you with a handshake. 
"I have a plan," you said devilishly. 
"Shit, that can never be good."
"Hey! Hear me out. So, Charles and Max, you know?"
"Who? I've never heard of those people in my life," he said sarcastically. 
"Ooookay, I could do without the attitude, thanks. Anyways, I'm sure you've noticed how in love with each other they are. Like hello? They literally scream 'enemies to lovers' trope. You know what I mean? I just need to find a way to get them to confess their undying love for each other." 
Lando's eyes widened and he looked around, making sure that no one was listening before pulling you to the side.
"Oh—jeez, so, you in?"
"The entire grid has been trying to get them together for years, you think that you'll be able to do it?"
"Yeah, obviously, but I'll need a sidekick that's why I'm telling you, so...?" 
He sighed. "Alright, tell me your ideas."
"Yes!"
"But I'm not your sidekick, we're partners in crime, okay?"
"Sure, sure. Anyways, step 1 of 'el plan' is to just subtly start mentioning Max or Charles when in conversation with the other. Get them in each others brains, you know? Like 'Oh Max was saying how he hopes for rain.'
Then, step 2, we start mentioning things that they've said about each other. 'Hey Max, Charles was saying how he always loves his on track battles with you the most,' stuff like that. Then we have to start interrogating them about their love life so they can hopefully admit their feelings. That's all I got so far."
Lando nodded, deep in thought. "Okay, this could work, this could work."
~~~~~~~~~~
Charles won in Monza, with Max and yourself completing the podium. While you were getting your interview done, the two of them seemed to be locked in their "debrief".
"Am I the only one who's noticed all the chemistry between her and Lando?" Max asked.
"You're definitely not the only one, mate. Being in a press conference with those two is unbearable."
"Ugh, yes, like just kiss already. I'm glad I'm not going crazy. We need to do something about it, get them to confess their feelings."
"I agree," Charles replied, staring into Max's eyes. 
~~~~~~~~~~
Later, they were in the press conference room, waiting for it to start, and Max and Charles were chatting away.
Y/n: MATE
Y/n: HELP
Y/n: I CAN'T TAKE THIS THIRD WHEELING
Landhoe: you can't complain you got a podium
Y/n: i actually can complain, i've suffered too much
Landhoe: you like seeing them together, don't lie. 
You grinned at that, then glanced up from your phone to see Max and Charles looking at you. 
"Who you texting?" Max asked.
"Just Lando," you shrugged, confused as Charles and Max gave each other a look.
"You guys seem to be getting along well, no?" Charles asked. 
"Uh yeah, I guess. It helps that we're both pretty similar."
"Yes, yes, very similar," Max nodded, and you raised your eyebrow, side-eyeing them. 
"Anyway, you guys have anyone special in your life, yet?" you asked.
The smirk on Max's face faltered as he glanced at Charles for a millisecond before looking back to her. 
"No, not yet, mate."
"Me neither," Charles added. 
You hummed. "Hm, okay."
~~~~~~~~~~
In Suzuka, Lando and you were talking while walking towards the driver's parade. 
"So I'm going to talk to Charles and you're going to talk to Max, sounds good?"
"Yup, I know the plan," Lando confirmed. 
"Great, we'll debrief after the race."
You spotted Charles and quickly ran up next to him before someone else could start a conversation with him. 
"Hey, Charlie! Congrats on your podium in Singapore!"
"Thanks, mate."
"Man, it's crazy how fast the season flew by, it seems like just yesterday I was a scared little rookie rolling up in Bahrain. Anyway, I was hoping to get your advice on something," you said, trying not to bring up the topic too suddenly. 
"Yeah, of course, go ahead."
"Okay, well, let's say hypothetically in a situation where you like someone, but you're not sure if they like you back, and you don't want to say anything because it could ruin your friendship and it would be awkward because you have to see them for the majority of the year, what would you do?" you asked, trying to gauge his feelings about potentially confessing his feelings. 
Charles glanced somewhere behind you, and you didn't want to look but you would've bet a million bucks that it was at Max.
"Well, if you're feeling like that person even just maybe likes you back, I say go for it. You wouldn't want to waste precious time that you could be spending together because you were too scared."
"So you're saying that if you like someone, you should just go for it?" you confirmed. 
"Yeah."
"Interesting..." you rubbed your chin, then turned to look at Max behind you. 
Meanwhile, Lando and Max were deep in conversation. 
"What would you think if two of the drivers started dating? Cause some of these people have some real chemistry," Lando asked, trying to seem nonchalant. 
Max shrugged. "I mean, yeah, some of us have known each other since our childhoods. I wouldn't be surprised if some crushes have developed. It's not my business, but I don't mind. It would be interesting, though."
"What about Charles and Pierre?" Lando egged on, waiting for a reaction. 
He watched in satisfaction as Max's eyes turned a shade darker and his jaw clenched. "Nah, I don't see it. But you and Y/n seem to be getting awfully close."
Lando couldn't help the blush that painted his cheeks. He tried to say something but was at a loss for words, mouth gaping like a fish. Max started snickering.
"We're just friends," he finally stuttered out.
"Alright, if you say so."
Lando sighed, turning away in disappointment. That did not go according to plan. 
~~~~~~~~~~
Max won the race, and because the McLaren was good in the high speed corners, Lando finished 2nd and yourself 3rd. 
You and Lando hugged as soon as you got out of your cars.
"Wohoooo! Let's go!" you cheered as you both ran to the fence of McLaren workers. 
You got done with the interview and was the first one in the cooldown room. You had put your helmet down on the platform and was drinking your water. You heard the others entering and turned around, bumping into Lando. 
"Oh, shit!" you exclaimed as you dropped your water bottle. 
You both bent down to grab it, causing your hands to touch and both of you to pause. Lando then grabbed you bottle and you both stood up, staring into each others' eyes for a couple seconds before you snapped out of it and moved to grab your water bottle. 
"Thanks," you said quietly. 
Lando was still looking at you, before quickly saying, "You're welcome."
You noticed Max watching you and the camera on you, so you cleared your throat and moved around Lando to sit on one of the chairs. 
"That was a good overtake, in the beginning," you commented to Max, trying to diffuse the awkwardness. 
Before the conference, Max was quick to get on his phone.
Max: Holy shit, I have so much to tell you about Lando and Y/n
Max: You should come to my hotel room tonight
Max: I think we're in the same hotel
Charles: I have stuff to tell you too. What time?
Max: Does after dinner, 9:00 work? 
Charles: That's perfect
Max: Great, my room is 1633
Charles: See you then ;)
And for some reason Max felt like a giddy schoolgirl at the thought of Charles coming to his hotel room.
You and Lando kept stealing glances at each other whenever the other wasn't looking, and it was so frustrating.
Later, when it was just around 9:00, Max waited (im)patiently for Charles to knock on his door, and he jumped when he finally heard the noise, getting up to let him in. Charles walked in nervously. 
"We can sit on the couch," Max commented, and Charles quickly situated himself on one end, and Max on the other. 
"Ok, you go first," Max urged. 
"Well Y/n came up to me during the driver's parade and she was talking about 'hypothetically' liking something but not doing anything about it because it could ruin their friendship. So of course I told her she should just go for it, and then she looked at Lando."
"Oh my God. Lando came up to me during the driver's parade and asked what I would think if two drivers started dating each other, and I said something about how close him and Y/n were, and he blushed. And then in the cool down room, they bumped into each other which made Y/n drop her water bottle, and when they both reached down to pick it up they touched hands. Then they just stared at each other for like 5 fucking seconds."
"Jesus, what is going on with them."
"I know right, like holy fuck just make out already! I'm sick of their pining."
Max shifted on the couch, causing his foot to touch Charles' leg. 
"Anyway, want to watch a movie?" Max asked, and Charles nodded eagerly. 
And that's how they ended up in the pitch dark, a bowl of microwaved popcorn in between them, some racing movie on the television. 
They both reached for the popcorn at the same time, causing their hands to touch, and both of them snapped their heads to look at each other. 
They stared at each other, eyes flickering down to each other's lips...until the sound of Max's phone ringing caused them both to jump apart. 
"Jesus!" Max exclaimed, quickly silencing his phone, and they reluctantly turned back to the movie, moment ruined. 
~~~~~~~~~~
A couple weeks passed until they were in Qatar. Max and Charles hadn't spoken to each other, and there was minimal communication between you and Lando. 
Max would be starting the race on pole, then Lando, you, and Charles. 
As the race went on, it seemed like that would be the finishing order, until halfway through Max started having braking issues. Lando caught up, overtaking Max for the lead, and you did the same a few laps later. 
The rest of the race, Max had adapted to the issue but still had slow pace because of it, which left him defending against Charles. 
The race ended in that order, Lando taking his first win.
"YEAHHH!!! LET'S FUCKING GO BABY! WOOHOOOOOO!!!" Lando cheered. 
They parked up in front of the podium boards. Lando opened his visor, got out of his car and stood on it, holding up his pointer finger and pumped his fist in celebration, fireworks going off in the background in the dark sky. 
You quickly got out of your car and removed your helmet, going straight to Lando. 
"You did it! You fucking did it! I'm so proud of you!" you told him as you pulled him in for a hug. 
He stared at you for a second when you let go, then immediately removed his helmet, putting a hand on your waist, pulling you closer and connecting your lips together. 
You were stunned for a second, before placing your hand on his cheek and deepening the kiss. Everything around you guys went still, like only the two of you existed. You eventually pulled away and could hear the booming of fireworks, the cheers from the crowd, and the whistles from the McLaren team a few feet away. You both blushed as you came to your senses. 
"I really fucking like you," Lando breathed out, slightly winded from the kiss. 
"I would hope so, after that," you teased, before pulling him in for another kiss. 
Max stood by his team, watching the pair from a far, his jaw dropped. 
"Fucking finally," Max sighed. 
But then he glanced behind him and spotted Charles walking to the FIA garage to get weighed, and an irresistible urge overcame him.
He followed Charles into the garage and grabbed his arm, dragging him behind one of the curtains.
"Did you see that! They finally—"
Charles was cut off as Max crashed their lips together.
"I think I've been wanting to do that for a long time," Max admitted when they pulled away. 
"I've been wanting to do that since I pushed you off the track in karting," Charles smiled, and Max smiled back, kissing him again.
—••—••—••—••—••—••—••—••—••—
a/n: i never intended to publish this anywhere but here i am. i literally never write written romance like this so this is really cringe and i cringed while writing it but enjoy ig. if you have any suggestions though please tell me!!
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specialgradefckr · 3 months
Text
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??”
422 notes · View notes
jackhues · 4 months
Text
...and maybe it's not love... | oscar piastri
note: here's part 2 <3 i think this will have 3/4 parts, but they might be split up if i reach the picture limit.
prev || next
pairing: oscar piastri x fem!reader, logan x best friend!reader, one sided!enemies to lovers
faceclaim: various, from pinterest
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youruser
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liked by oscarpiastri, y/bffsuser, landonorris & others
youruser: what can i say? i'm a busy gal
user: bae... are you soft launching someone or is this just logan again? -> logansargeant: it's not me -> user: LOGAN MY GLORIOUS AMERICAN KING! WHO IS THIS??
user: why are the f1 boys here?? -> user: bcz she took a picture with oscar and i guess they're all friends now -> user: and it's only lando. quite overreacting
yourmomsig: too busy for family dinner -> youruser: ma if it was only our family i'd have been there. i just wasn't in the mood to deal with aunt griselda -> logansargeant: yeah thanks for that, i had to take ur place -> youruser: love you logie
logansargeant: you know you idiots are so cute it almost makes up for making me have dinner with aunt griselda -> user: stop he calls her aunt, 'aunt' - those two are siblings your honors -> youruser: i already told you i love you... what more do you want?
user: GIRL ARE YOU BACK WITH YOUR EX? -> youruser: ew no
user: come home the kids miss you
user: bae who is this man you're taking pics with? do i have to be jealous? -> youruser: nah we're just friends -> user: YOU MEAN YOU'RE FREAKING US ALL OUT TO TELL US THE MAN DIDN'T EVEN MAKE IT OFFICIAL YET?? -> youruser: i'm actually crying at this comment this is the funniest fucking thing i've ever read- -> oscarpiastri: she has literal tears streaming down her face -> user: ARIANA? WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE?
oscarpiastri: too busy of a gal to answer your texts? -> youruser: depends on who it is -> user: guys stop logan's besties are becoming besties- i love this!
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youruser
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liked by logansargeant, landonorris, oscarpiastri & others
youruser: signin' out
oscarpiastri: photo creds? -> youruser: no -> user: wait... oscar was at the graduation??????? -> user: i don't think so... he took the first and/or third picture and neither of them are at the ceremony itself. i think he was just invited to the party -> user: quit crushing my dreams girl
logansargeant: proud of you 🤍 -> youruser: love you logie 🤍
landonorris: just in time for hot girl summer -> youruser: 🤪🤪
user: wait i thought she already graduated -> user: this is her law school graduation i think -> user: isn't she like 23?? how?? -> youruser: max course loads + studying during summers! wasn't fun, but i'm FREEEEE
user: girlBOSS
y/bffsuser: i love you !! so so proud -> youruser: i adore you 😘
yourmomsig: love you sweetie, i'm so proud of you -> youruser: love you more ma
user: wait where's the 'friend' she was soft launching a while back -> youruser: we're still going good, trust -> user: lowkey think it's oscar
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yourprivuser
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liked by logansargeant, oscarpiastri, y/bffsuser & others
youruser: fun night with fun people
tagged: y/bffsuser, oscarpiastri, logansargeant, friend2, friend3, friend4
oscarpiastri: probably the closest i'll be to graduating -> youruser: it's why i graduated twice, once for me, once for you
y/bffsuser: girl my face was not nice in that last pic -> youruser: puhleasee you look hot
logansargeant: i feel like there's someone you need to thank for all of this -> youruser: uhhhh god? -> logansargeant: girlllllll -> youruser: ugh thank you logan hunter sargeant, the greatest american to have ever lived
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f1gossip
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liked by user, user, user & others
f1gossip: sources say that oscar piastri was in fort lauderdale between the canadian and brazilian gp. he was most likely there for y/n y/ln's graduation, but we cannot confirm if he attended the ceremony or only the party afterwards. the two know each other through their best friend logan sargeant, and we can confirm that they've only become friends during the miami gp, which is around the same time y/n began soft launching someone she calls a 'friend'
many think her and oscar piastri have started or are starting a relationship, and the belief has been cemented by him attending her graduation party. these pictures look like oscar and y/n going out for dinner with her friends, holding hands at one point, and then hanging out at oscar's hotel afterwards. we cannot confirm or deny that any of these pictures are in fact oscar and y/n as they aren't clear, but they do look similar to them.
for more information on y/n y/ln, check out the link in our bio
tagged: oscarpiastri, youruser, logansargeant
user: i ship them
user: bro who even is she??
user: how much y'all wanna bet she's not even really friends with logan?
user: that doesn't even look like oscar, y'all wilding
user: maybe he's just there to support a friend (in denial)
user: she doesn't look good
user: i don't like them together
user: oscar's too good for her
user: y'all hella interested in people who don't give a shit about you
youruser: wow my very own post on f1gossip- mom look i made it -> yourmomsig: congrats baby -> user: HER MOM ACTUALLY COMMENTED LMAOOOOO -> user: i changed my mind i stan her -> user: guys i really hope she's with oscar -> user: i don't think she is 😢 otherwise she'd probably ignore this post
user: y'all as much as i love them, i doubt they're together- most wags ignore these posts and this chick's out here commenting and calling her mom 💀
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Y/N STARED AT THE MCLAREN CAP, unsure if she should wear it. It shouldn't mean anything to the public, just her showing support to one of her new friends. Because to them, that's all Oscar really was. Her friend.
They didn't know about the constant texts, the late night face times, the movie dates while across an ocean from each other. They didn't know about the way her heart would race whenever she saw his text, how he'd make her giggly and blush just by calling her a cute little nickname. They knew nothing.
Besides, she was wearing a Williams Racing shirt in support of Logan. Why should a simple McLaren cap - not even fully papaya colored - mean anything to the public?
"Oh my God, just put the cap on," Logan groaned, making way over and putting it on her head for her.
Y/N rolled her eyes, fixing the cap so it didn't ruin her hair.
"Shut up," she muttered. "I'm just nervous."
"You have no need to be," Logan promised her. "Oscar's going to lose his mind when he sees you in person, turn into a stuttering, stumbling mess, and you're going to be so touched by his awkwardness that you're going fall in love. All in all, it's a win-win situation."
"I don't like you," Y/N rolled her eyes, following Logan out of the hotel and in the car. She had arrived in England a few days ago, but kept a low profile. She missed the first two practices, before deciding to arrive on track for FP3 and quali. She'd also make her way over for the race tomorrow.
The two best friends shared TikToks and reels with each other during the short drive, making their way out of the car and towards the paddock once they arrived. Y/N tried to keep her hands at her sides, away from the McLaren cap on her head. No need to make it obvious. Cameras flashed and recorded videos as her and Logan walked down, making her incredibly nervous.
She felt hot, really hot. And... was she sweating? She resisted the urge to smell.
"You're fine," Logan promised, sensing her inner anxiety. "Nobody's focusing on your cap, they take videos of all the drivers arriving at track. Stop spiraling."
Y/N blinked back to the present at Logan's words, realizing that she was indeed falling into a spiral. It was all going to be okay. Logan was going to be there no matter what.
"Thanks Logie," she smiled. "You're the best."
"Yeah, I know," he nodded to himself.
She rolled her eyes, swatting him in the arm. Arriving outside the Williams' garage, she waved at Alex Albon.
"Hey, Y/N," he jogged over from inside. "How are you? Logan never even told me you're coming."
"I'm great Alex, thanks," she grinned. "And it was a bit of a surprise. I didn't want people to know I was coming here today. I have a job interview in a few days, so I decided why not come early and watch the GP in person."
"Good decision," he laughed. He looked at her cap, "Are you heading inside or heading to McLaren?"
"Uh... I think I'll head over to McLaren," she decided. "I don't want news of my arrival reaching Oscar before I get to surprise him."
Alex raised his brows, before fixing his expression, "Right, you guys finally met at Miami. I take it you became friends, right?"
"Yeah," Y/N nodded, trying not to let her heart eyes show. "I probably should've taken Logan's offer to meet his racing friends years ago. Most of them are pretty cool."
"I hope I'm one of them," Alex joked.
"You're at the top of the list," she winked. "Anyways, I'll catch you guys later on. Don't leave without me Logan."
"Same goes to you," he waved.
Y/N flipped him off, turning to make her way to McLaren garage. She could hear Logan's laughter behind her, making her smile to herself. Who knew when the last time he genuinely laughed on a race weekend even was?
Over the last few months, she'd seen lots of clips of Oscar and Logan hanging out together - more than usual - and usually joining them was Lando. It seemed that the Brit was interested in becoming friends with Logan after Miami, which honestly made her happy.
She arrived outside the McLaren garage, debating if she should head in or wait outside, or maybe just head back to Williams.
Before she could make up her mind, she heard someone make a surprised little noise.
"Y/N?" Lando asked, exiting the garage once he saw her. "You're here? Oscar that little brat, he never even told me you're going to visit."
"That's because he doesn't know," Y/N laughed. "It's a surprise. I kind of insinuated that I wouldn't be able to watch the race at all, but... well, I'm here!"
"Ugh you two are just so absolutely adorable," Lando sighed, slinging an arm over her shoulder. "C'mon, I'll take you to him. He said he's going to talk to his dad, I think."
"His dad's here?" She asked, stopping in her tracks. "Why did no one tell me his dad was going to be here?"
"Quit freaking out," Lando rolled his eyes. "His real dad's not here, I don't think."
"Then who is he — Charles?" Y/N asked. "They're still doing that little bit from Monaco."
Lando pointed to where Oscar was, indeed talking with someone in Ferrari gear. Y/N stood on her tiptoes, recognizing Charles Leclerc and his girlfriend, in the middle of some conversation with Oscar. Leo slept soundly in Alexandra's arms.
"Let's wait for them to finish their conversation," Y/N suggested, feeling bad for coming up to them while they were talking.
"Nope," Lando shook his head, leading her across and closer to Oscar.
"Lando, no, no, no, Lando, I will throw you under one of the cars, no, Lando—"
"Quick, laugh like I said something funny," Lando whispered.
Y/N was so surprised by his request, that she stopped trying to plot his murder.
"Laugh, woman!" Lando muttered.
"Oh, right," Y/N responded.
Trying her best to seem somewhat genuine, she thought of that time Oscar texted her because he walked into a pole. Which made her laugh so hard, she walked into a door.
She giggled at the memory, laughing as the duo approached the others.
Lando, seeing Oscar's head whip over immediately at the sound of her laughter, began giggling too. The two had to stop a few steps away from Oscar, Charles and Alexandra because of how hard they were laughing.
"Did you see— the way he—" Lando couldn't get a sentence out without bursting into another round of laughter.
"Lando, get your shit together," Y/N wiped her eyes, straightening up.
Charles and Alex raised their eyebrows, entirely confused by what was happening a few steps away from them, while Oscar stared at Y/N like she was a mound of gold.
"Okay, okay— never mind, I can't do it," Lando fell into another round of laughter every time he remembered how quickly Oscar looked at her.
"Oh my God," Y/N muttered, sending an apologetic smile towards the trio near them.
She grabbed Lando's arm and dragged him the final few steps, smiling at the small group.
"I'm so sorry about that," she apologized. "Lando here doesn't know how to behave."
At this point, Lando's laughter, which was finally beginning to stop, starting up all over again.
"I'm sorry guys, I'm so sorry," Lando got out. "I'm not laughing at you guys, I promise. I'm laughing at Osc."
"What did I do?" Oscar asked, finally snapping out of whatever trance he'd gone in after hearing Y/N's laughter.
At his question, Lando's laughter came back, this time high pitched and bringing on some tears.
Y/N leaned closer to Oscar, whispering, "Is this normal?"
"Just ignore him," he responded, hoping she couldn't hear his heart beating all over his body. "It'll stop eventually."
"If it doesn't it'll give the rest of us an edge in the race," Charles offered.
"Right, uh Charles, Alexandra, this is Y/N," Oscar introduced them, the group now choosing to ignore Lando as he sat on the floor and laughed some more. "She's uh, a friend of mine, and also Logan's best friend. She usually only comes to Miami, but apparently is here today."
"Surprise!" She grinned.
Oscar smiled, the feeling of her happiness radiating towards him. Maybe he liked surprises a lot more than he realized.
"Logan, uh..."
"Sargeant," Lando supplied to Charles from his spot on the floor, wiping his eyes to clear up some tears. "The one who drives for Williams."
Y/N's smile dipped slightly at the reminder that Charles was another driver who wasn't quite close with Logan. But she brought the smile back immediately, doing her best to be nice.
In fact, it was only because Oscar had his eyes on Y/N the entire time that he noticed the small dip. He didn't know just what it was about, but he remembered her make the same expression when she first met Lando.
"Right, yeah," Charles nodded. "I just wanted to make sure I had the right one. It's nice to meet you, Y/N. I'm Charles, and this is my girlfriend Alex."
"Nice to meet you guys," she smiled again, and it was as if nothing was wrong. She cooed at Leo asleep in Alex's arms, "Aw, cute dog. I've been more of a cat person my whole life, but I love puppies."
"His name's Leo," Alex introduced the dog.
"Oh, he's adorable," she grinned.
"Well, it was nice to meet you Y/N," Charles nodded in her direction. "We've got to go now, but hopefully we'll see you later on. Bye Lando, bye son."
"Bye dad," Oscar laughed.
"Bye," Lando waved at them.
Once they were gone, Y/N looked back at Oscar, only to see him already looking at her.
"Hi," she smiled.
"Hey," he breathed out.
"Oi, you two are being too lovey dovey in front of the cameras," Lando warned them. "Go to the motorhome or something."
Y/N rolled her eyes, but he wasn't wrong. There were much more cameras around McLaren than Williams, and people would be dissecting Y/N and Oscar's every move. Considering they weren't even dating, she wanted to keep the secret for a little while longer.
"Right, uh... you wanna come along, Y/N?" Oscar asked her.
"Sure, I'm not due back at Williams until the end of the day," she shrugged. "I got to return my paddock pass then. Coming, Lando?"
"No thank you," he shook his head. "I like my spot on the floor, and I'd rather not accidentally be a cockblock."
"Lando, we're not going to have sex in Oscar's motorhome," Y/N rolled her eyes.
"We're not?" Oscar asked, a joking glint in his eyes.
"Take me out on a date first, then we'll see," she responded in the same tone, turning towards the motorhome and making her way there.
"Hey, I already asked," he reminded her, catching up. "It's up to you to decide when you're cashing in the rain check."
Y/N tilted her head at him, a small smile making its way to her face. "Tell you what, you win the race tomorrow, I'll go on a date with you the next day."
Oscar smirked, "Well, I have to win the race now."
"Nice to know where your motivation factor lies."
The two arrived outside the room, and Oscar opened the door for her.
"What a gentleman," Y/N grinned to herself, entering the small space.
She took a seat on the bed, while Oscar sat in the chair by the desk.
"Are you okay?" Oscar asked once it was just the two of them, no cameras, no Lando, no one else.
"What do you mean?" Y/N asked. "I'm fine."
"You're not fine, there's something bothering you," Oscar noted. "Or it did bother you at one point. When you were talking to Charles and Alex, you frowned at the start of the conversation. Right after I'd introduced you to them. Like, as if you were upset by something they said or did, I don't know."
Y/N frowned again at the reminder of that interaction, before shaking her head quickly to clear her thoughts.
"Nothing, I mean... like it's not a big deal," she tried to explain. "It's just this weird thing about me."
"You know you can trust me with anything, right?"
"I know, Oscar," she sighed. "It's just... it's complicated, I guess."
"If you want to talk about it, I've got time," he responded.
Y/N stared at him, remembering how she thought she hated him just a few months ago. She saw him as an egotistic prick, who'd left her best friend in the dust after stealing him from her. And here he was now... telling her he'd listen to her if she wanted him to.
"I didn't like you for a long time," she confessed.
At Oscar's hurt look, she continued quickly.
"Wait, no, that didn't come out the way I wanted," she closed her eyes. "I mean, like when we were kids, a long, long time ago. Because, for our entire lives, it'd been Logan and I. We did everything together, always. And then he got serious with racing, and he made other friends. Which was fine by me, because I'd always been his best friend. The only one who managed to come close to my position in Logan's eyes, was you. You were the one who'd managed to be one of his closest friends, because of racing, and you were the one who was closest to taking my place. And... well I was jealous. Which was why I often ran away after Logan's races, never stopped to meet you or talk with you, or any of the other drivers.
"And, you know, the years passed, and Logan and I remained close, and the jealousy faded, but then, I don't know. I guess I was embarrassed to talk to you, because I'd been jealous for so long. And then you both went into F1, and I told myself I'd be happy for both of you... but I wasn't, really. You just— I mean, you came into F1, and the love for you was immediate. The fans, your team, the other drivers. They all loved you, and they wanted to talk to you. And Logan... Logan got stuck with a shitty car and a shitty team, and none of the drivers even wanted to talk to him."
She took a deep breath, continuing, "and I know it's not your fault, but I love Logan, okay? Like I'd quite literally give up my life for him, and seeing him constantly in a place where he wasn't being treated fairly, where he wasn't happy.... it hurts. He's here because he loves racing, but every time people talk shit about him or act like he didn't put in so much work to be here, it makes me upset. I was... I don't know, envious of you on behalf of Logan, if that makes sense. And so I kind of ignored you during F1 as well. But then I began talking to you, and that first time I heard you speak, stumbling over your words, I think that's when I realized you were human. Just like Logan. You didn't choose it to be this way and you can't help it. And you know, a lot of times I can forget most of the people out there have never acknowledged Logan, because he's asked me to forget it so many times, but then they remind me that they haven't... and it hurts, Oscar. It hurts to see that. So you know, I'm sorry for judging you before ever even meeting you. That was stupid of me."
Oscar stared at her for a moment, feeling sick at her words. He'd never had someone who he was that close with, not outside of his family. He couldn't even imagine what went through her head every time she saw him, or the other drivers. He didn't blame her for her feelings, she had every right to hate anyone out there.
"Oscar?" she began hesitantly. "Are you... are you alright?"
He got up from his chair, standing in front of her and pulling her close. She immediately wrapped her arms around his waist, melting into his hug.
"I'm sorry," he whispered. "I'm sorry that I let it happen."
"Oscar, it's not your fault," she said, her voice muffled by his embrace. "I realize that now, and it's something Logan's always known. He's never blamed you, I don't either. It's just the way life works."
"It's not great," Oscar commented.
"Nah, not really," she agreed. "But it won't stay like this forever."
She wouldn't let it.
--
f1
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liked by youruser, logansargeant, y/bffsuser & others
f1: and it's the FIRST career GRAND PRIX WIN for oscar piastri! a daring move by the aussie in the final laps of the race put him ahead of max verstappen and as the leader of the race, where he led quite comfortably to the checkered flag
mclaren: that's our guy!!
user: OSCARRRRR GO OFF
user: LOGAN IN POINTS SOMEONE TALK ABOUT LOGAN IN POINTS -> user: your honor they're boyfriends
youruser: wow a race winner -> oscarpiastri: it was nothing
user: OSCAR OSCAR OSCAR OSCAR
user: someone check on y/n -> user: ???? -> user: well her and oscar might be dating no one knows. but she's besties with logan, and one of them won and the other's in points so she might be celebrating
--
oscarpiastri
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liked by youruser, landonorris, logansargeant & others
oscarpiastri: winning the race ➡️ winning in life
user: OSCAR JACK PIASTRI!! WHO IS THIS???
user: mans just dropped a whole bomb and left
user: boy isn't responding to ANYONE -> user: he said 'look at my girl' and then dipped
user: y'all that's y/n i'm calling it -> user: no she looks too tall in the second pic -> user: i think she's wearing heels
user: oscar get your ass back on this app and answer the peoples' questions -> oscarpiastri: no.
youruser: ugh i love her nails -> oscarpiastri: 🙄 she said thanks babe -> youruser: your girl loves me more than you -> oscarpiastri: i'm afraid it may be so
user: NAH IT AINT Y/N! LOOK AT HER COMMENTS
user: y/n bestie boo tell us who oscar's new girl is -> youruser: no.
user: y/n and oscar are hilarious bcz she's been soft launching her 'friend' for months and now oscar's hiding a whole girlfriend from us -> user: i see what logan meant when he said they're too similar but also completely opposite
user: i still think the girl's y/n
--
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--
youruser:
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liked by y/bffsuser, logansargeant, landonorris & others
youruser: summer of 24... you were definitely one for the books
tagged: oscarpiastri
user: YOU'VE BEEN SOFTLAUNCHING OSCAR ALL ALONG????
user: the way i didn't actually see this one coming
user: I FUCKING KNEW ITT
oscarpiastri: best summer yet 🩷 -> youruser: got me blushing and shii
logansargeant: i'd like a written thank you card for being the reason you two are together -> youruser: no 🤍
user: i just KNOW logan's been their biggest shipper
yourmomsig: cutiess
--
oscarpiastri
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liked by youruser, charles_leclerc, logansargeant & others
oscarpiastri: it's been ten years in the making
tagged: youruser
user: SHUT UP
user: wait they've been dating for TEN YEARS??!! -> user: no i think he had a crush on her for like ten years
youruser: i adore you 🩷 -> oscarpiastri: it's hard not to adore me
youruser: s i m p -> oscarpiastri: are you complaining? -> youruser: no
logansargeant: again. am i getting a thank you at all??? -> oscarpiastri: sorry my future wife said no -> youruser: jasdjfakhfrshgous -> user: nah she real for that- i'd do the same if oscar said that about me
user: she needs to lose some weight
user: ew why does she smile like that
user: MOM AND DAD
landonorris: i'd also like a thank you for not being a cockblock -> oscarpiastri: no.
--
f1gossip
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liked by user, user, user & others
f1gossip: well it's officially been confirmed by oscar piastri and y/n y/ln that they are dating and have been together for at least the summer. it's unclear when they began dating, but we can assume it was after the miami grand prix, where it is believed that they met for the first time.
y/n y/ln is the childhood best friend of logan sargeant, and has took to social media multiple times to defend him. she has completed law school, and we believe she works in england, which is where oscar is located at the moment. for more information on y/n y/ln and the timeline of her and oscar piastri's relationship, check the link in our bio
user: bro who cares
user: i thought this was a driver gossip page not the wags
user: what does oscar see in her? -> user: right like she has to have bewitched him
user: i love her she's such a girlboss
user: idk how oscar does it. my brain would stop working once she smiled at me
user: something about their relationship screams pr to me -> user: like wdym they only met in miami bcz fans wanted them to and now they're dating -> user: nah that's sketchy
--
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notes: well here's the anticipated part 2!! i hope you guys enjoy it! if you'd like to be added to my tag list, please comment on part one of this series just so all the comments are in one place. let me know what you guys think of this part in the comments + reblogs <3
and again my tags don't always work, so you might want to follow my writing tag 'naqia writes!' or the tag for this short series 'the bsf of my bsf! series' so they show up on your dash at some point :)
don't forget to like AND reblog!!
tags: @ravisinghs-wife , @urfavsgf , @mxdi0 , @lemon-lav , @lilipiggytails , @stinkyjax , @blckgrl-sunflower , @littlemisssummer , @dreamsarebig , @k-pevensie28 , @themislovesf1 , @hellowgoodbye , @chezmardybum , @5sospenguinqueen , @charlotte1697 , @stylestastic , @sie17136 , @2lsargeant , @softpiastri <33
734 notes · View notes
ardorwritesfanfic · 1 year
Note
OMG HI i LOVEDDD (🤤) the blue lock men and their kinks that you did!! Would it be possible to please request the same for barou, nagi, sae and karasu? 😳 it's okay if you can't 😚 btw the kunigami and rin ones were so UGH 🥵
AAAAAA I’m so glad you liked it! I’m genuinely shocked by how fast those headcanons blew up 🫣😳
Anyways, I just started reading the manga, so hopefully Sae and Karasu don’t seem too ooc! Thank you so much for the request and I hope you enjoy it!
Blue Lock Men and their Kinks pt2!
Genre: headcanons, smut
Warnings: Sir kink, daddy kink, lactation kink, breeding kink, dom/sub dynamics, bondage, degradation, cunnilingus, size kink, pegging, praise kink, overstimulation, orgasm denial, mirror sex.
Featuring: Barou Shoei, Nagi Seishiro, Sae Itoshi, Karasu Tabito
Part 1
All characters are aged 20+! MDNI
Barou Shoei
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Barou is extremely dominant, he needs to be in control.
He’s also incredibly meticulous. Every action has a purpose.
His touches are exactly where you need them, when you need them.
He ranges in speed when it comes to sex.
He’s almost always rough and hard, but he ranges from slowly fucking you into the bed and pounding into you fervor.
He loves having his hair played with during sex, but he’ll never tell you.
He loves hearing you moan and scream, however he only usually grunts.
Barou definitely has a size kink.
He uses his size to place you in specific positions that get you to scream just how he likes it.
He uses his muscles to keep you pinned there.
Speaking of pinning, Barou is definitely into bondage.
Hes a King, and he feels like he shouldn’t have to use his energy to keep you in place.
He will tie you up and keep your limbs flush against the bed, so he can fuck you as he likes.
I can definitely see Barou getting pussy drunk 100% of the time.
Barou lives for eating you out.
Remember how I said he was meticulous? This is a situation where that applies.
He’s so slow and thorough, his long tongue filling you up and massaging your insides so well.
Will not stop until he makes you cum just from his tongue.
Barou also has a sir kink.
He loves being called ‘sir’ in the bedroom.
The moaning of that name gets him all horny like he never has before.
Barou is really into degradation.
He’ll say such nasty things to you as he fucks you from behind.
“Such a wet fucking cunt you have, you’re such a whore for this dick, aren’t you?”
He’s also into orgasm denial and overstimulation.
Barou loves being in control, this includes when you cum, and when he believes the session should end.
He will not let you cum until there are tears threatening to roll down your cheeks. He wants you to beg for your release.
Barou loves how whiny and how much louder you are when you’re overstimulated as well. He will fuck you until the movement becomes painful.
Barou loves your ass, and he will bite, smack, and kiss the soft flesh until it’s covered in marks.
I think Barou is actually really good with aftercare!
He’ll clean you up with cool towels, then drag you into the shower with him to finish washing up.
Barou isn’t much of a cuddler though, but he will let you cuddle up to him as you fall asleep.
Just as you’re about to fall asleep, he’ll kiss the top of your head, and whisper just how much he loves you.
Nagi Seishiro
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Nagi is a switch, he doesn’t really have a preference.
Most of the time, he’s on the bottom, just because he doesn’t want to exert that much energy.
He is one hell of a power bottom though.
His large hands and muscular arms move your hips with ease as you ride him, gently guiding you up and down his cock.
Sex with Nagi is usually slow and sensual, he likes spoiling you as much as he likes to be spoiled.
Nagi could eat you out for hours. Sometimes it truly feels like that.
He will stay buried in between you legs for as long as he can, a mixture of your slick and his saliva covering the lower half of his face.
“S-Shit princess, you taste so good! Just a little longer, please let me taste you a little longer!”
Nagi’s specialty though is cockwarming.
He adores having you sit on his lap while he’s gaming, the warmth of your pussy calming him as he plays.
However, you usually end up lasting longer than Nagi. Eventually the warmth and wet of your cunt, as well as the periodic squeezing from your walls becomes too much to bear.
He’ll pause his game and end up fucking you in his chair.
I believe in Big Dick Nagi™️ supremacy, and this combined with his height means that Nagi absolutely has a size kink.
When he sees the small bulge in your stomach from his dick, he can’t help but moan.
He’ll roll his hips into yours, eyes focused solely on your lower belly watching the bulge move. He’ll cum almost instantly.
Nagi also loves mirror sex. His favorite thing in the world is watching his cock absolutely ruin you in the mirror. His large hands cup and massage your breasts as he slowly pounds into you.
He adores watching your face contort with pleasure as he hits every sweet spot inside you.
Speaking of your breasts, Nagi is obsessed with them.
He can’t think of a better way to relax after a frustrating day that latching into your tits and suckling them.
He’ll move your hands to his hair, begging you to run your fingers through his snowy locks.
He’ll rut into your leg as he suckles, unable to resist the urge to pleasure himself.
Nagi is also really into pegging. He may be big, but all he really wants is to feel good in any way possible.
He’ll whine and cry with pleasure as you fuck his ass, gripping g onto anything he can. Bonus points if you let him suckle while you fuck him.
Nagi also has a praise kink. Please tell this man how good he is to you!
When he’s suckling or being pegged, he adores when you tell him how good he’s being for you.
The soft cooing of your voice allows him to relax, and sends pleasure straight to his cock.
If Nagi could, he would cum inside you every single chance he gets.
He loves seeing his cum drip out of your puffy pussy, imagining how pretty you would look pregnant with his baby.
Aftercare with Nagi is mostly cuddles and soft whispering to each other.
He’ll pull you close to his chest, pressing sweet kisses to your cheeks and lips, cooing how much he loves you. It doesn’t take long before you both are asleep, relaxing in each others arms.
Sae Itoshi
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Sae gives me dom vibes.
I feel like he needs to be in control, and that’s no different when he’s intimate with you.
Sae switches between being incredibly soft with you, and being incredibly rough with you.
Sae is an egoist by nature, so when he does get rough, it’s usually to feed into his ego.
He’ll fuck you relentlessly, teasing you with every breath.
“Oh you like that, do you? Moan for me, baby. Tell me how good this dick makes you feel.”
He growls with pleasure with every moan he earns from you.
However, Sae treasures you deeply.
He knows what it’s like to be lonely, and he doesn’t want to lose the one think he has.
When he wants to be soft, he is incredibly caring.
He’s all about delicate touches and soft caresses of your body, all while dragging his dick in and out of your pussy.
Sae does have a daddy kink. He loves being called that no matter if he’s being rough or soft.
Sae also has a breeding kink.
Sae adores the idea that you’ll let him get you pregnant, and he’ll spend countless rounds fucking his cum into you until your stuffed.
On the other hand, he also appreciates that you’re so willing to take that big of a step in your relationship with him.
Sae loves to bring you to the brink of overstimulation.
He just adores the idea that he can make you cum so many times in one round.
He’ll kiss the tears off of your cheeks as he sloppily thrusts into you, begging to give him just one more orgasm.
Orgasm denial is one of the ways Sae feeds his ego as well.
When he’s in this mood, you’ll only get to cum when he wants you to. It gives him such a power trip knowing he has that amount of control over you.
Aftercare with Sae is minimal in the beginning of your relationship.
This is partially because he’s unsure of how to be vulnerable, and will often leave you to clean yourself.
He does get better with time though! On e he learns what you like, he’ll be sure that you feel safe and loved.
He’ll kiss your forehead and whisper praises, and he’ll help you clean up the mess in between your legs.
You both usually end up falling asleep soon after, with Sae’s head resting on your chest while you play with his hair.
Karasu Tabito
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Karasu is definitely a very dominant lover.
He gives me the vibes of a soft dom, one that loves to tease you but will still take care of you!
He will sweet talk you, voice laced with sweet teases as he thrusts into you.
“You’re so pretty, my love. Trying so hard to keep up. You won’t last that long, trust me~”
Karasu adores fingering you.
Whether you’re in public or relaxing on the couch, his fingers are never far from your aching pussy.
He kisses you so incredibly gently while his fingers are knuckle deep inside you, drenched in your slick. (The duality of this man I —)
Karasu absolutely has a Daddy kink. He cannot get enough of that name.
A loud groan emits from his chest, hips jutting into yours when you call him that.
Karasu has large hands, and they’re constantly roaming and grasping at your body.
He’ll hold your hips in place while he slams his pelvis into you, making sure to hit your sweet spots.
Karasu also loves stuffing your mouth.
He’ll use anything he can find to create the muffled noises he loves so dearly.
He’ll shove his jersey in your mouth if he needs to blow off steam, your shirt if it’s a quickie, and if there’s nothing else he’ll shove his own long fingers in your mouth.
He loves marking you up as well, leaving multiple blue and purple bruises along your neck and chest.
Like Nagi, Karasu loves mirror sex.
He’ll use his strong arms to hold you up, his hand firmly placed on your jaw as he forces you to watch him fuck you.
Karasu loves overstimulating you as well, earning those pretty whines and moans from you.
He’ll finger fuck you until you squirt, sucking your juices off of his fingers before he fucks you again.
Once both of you are running out of steam, he’ll help you ride out your last orgasm, fucking his sticky cum further into your pussy.
Karasu likes cumming inside you as much as the next person, but he prefers cumming on your tummy.
Unless you want him to breed you, then of course he will! How could he say no to his precious angel~
Sometimes he gets so focused on pleasing you that he forgets about his own orgasm.
He’ll let you get him off if you still have the energy, but he’s more than willing to take care of himself if you’re too tired.
However, he knows how much you like it when he gets off too, so he makes sure that you both cum at the same time at the end of your session.
Aftercare is a dream with him.
He’ll clean you up, grab you some snacks and water, and offer to cuddle you as long as you need too.
He’s so incredibly sweet, very different from how he is in his daily life.
He just loves you with all of his heart!
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˚➳❥“Can I put makeup on you, Dada?➳❥
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Jason Grace as a girl dad! Hcs list
Warning: aged up Jason Grace! (duh), just cuteness overload tbh
-He would so be a girl dad. I can see him having atleast 3 girls lol
- ugh he's the attentive and spending quality time dad- all he ever wanted from his own father was time. So no matter what, he's always paying his kid attention, it doesn't matter if it's the most insignificant thing ever, hes going to listen to his children's yapping
- he'd let his kids give him design ideas for his temple diorama project, and he'd actually use their ideas by changing it up a bit 🥹 he just wants his kids to feel included and important.
- a very patient dad. Wouldn't yell or raise his voice at his children no matter what. I feel like he himself hated being yelled at it when he was a child, and he'd hate to do it to other people, let alone his own children.
- but he's pretty strict when it comes to his children being good people and having strictly healthy morals. He doesn't care if his kids get bad grades or don't excel talent wise, just don't be a bad person and be nice to people.
- he ain't raising no ungrateful brat. Hes been happy his whole life recieving less than the bare minimum, so he knows ungratefulness when he sees it.
- definitely cried when his kids were in their "neglecting-their-parents-and-being-moody" teenager phase :( he'd think he had done something wrong and immediately have nagging thoughts that he turned out like his own dad 🥺
- his kids would be so hella polite, and I mean, elegant "please and thank you" royalty kind of polite.
- would so take his daughters on a piggyback ride and little flying trips 🥹
- he'd pretend to be an airplane while having them on his back and goes "jason grace airlines, ready for take off!" And all that cute shit ughh
- would tell his children so many dang stories, we know that this is technically canon with jason telling his grandkids stories in his vision- like he doesn't care how busy he is or if he had an argument with his kids that day, they are still getting spoiled with bedtime stories. Nobody's going to come between that.
- speaking of arguments, I feel like jason is super hard to anger, so if does get mad at his children then it's probably because they risked their lives, or got themselves hurt physically emotionally or mentally that really drives him over the edge.
- when it comes to disciplining his children, he does it sternly but gently at the same time. He doesn't overwhelm them with harshness, but gets his point across clearly
- kind of overbearing but in a sweet and endearing way I swear. Like his children would get a minor paper cut that even they don't care about but he'd freak out and hug tf out them while asking them if they're okay atleast 3 times.
- speaking of which. Hugs. Such a good fucking hugger. He gives his children bear hugs every day. - he's the "no you can't go to class before giving me a hug I don't care if you're late" type of dad
- He doesn't care if his children are like 45, like you're still my precious little girl, you always are and always will be. (He'd say this trust)
- is very verbal with his affection. Hes been brought up in a very intimidating and cold environment where people couldn't even hug properly without it being awkward, so he'll not be ashamed to be openly affectionate. Hes had enough coldness for 15 years
- overall just a big sweetheart of a dad that his children adore with all their heart and vice versa 🥹💙
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khristie16 · 8 months
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The Fast and Forbidden
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Charles is a famous F1 driver with everything one could want: fame, fortune, and fans. But he is missing one thing. Being his new personal assistant changes everything for both of them.
— chapter 3 An unspoken connection builds up and seeing you half naked gives a top to it, right after your date with another guy
warnings: sexual tension, invading privacy (not the intention), charles is chuckling the charles out of him
.........................................................................
I haven't seen Charles for two days. We haven't even spoken. Right after our shared time behind the piano, his brothers came to his apartment to pick him up for the squash that was apparently delayed. I snapped from my sitting position and awkwardly disappeared, resulting in forgetting about the clothes I wanted to laundry. I felt weird. Torn apart. What the hell happened there? I was still overthinking the whole scenery, me and him playing together. Me and my feelings and him and his words. What the hell was he talking about that I am his boat in whatever ocean it was. My frustration grew extremely and I was mad about everything and I did not know where it came from.
After ruminating on the sofa I had bought two days ago at this new and absolutely with nothing in apartment, I had to buy at least few decent things to it. It is not like I care about it much, I'm not gonna stay here for most of the time and I definitely don't call it home. One thing came to my conclusion. I will go on a date. I don't know how or when yet, but I need to go on a date instead of thinking about the weirdfest that is happening between the two of us. What I didn't know though was the fact that Charles ignored me on purpose. He was cursing himself for saying what he said and he didn't know why he said it. It was like that day, that moment he was someone else. He doesn't do these sweet nothings. He isn't like that. And so he ignored YN as much as he could.
On the way to Japan, the ride was quiet. Charles had his AirPods all the time and all I could do was draw some stuff in my notebook. This is actually the only time where my mind doesn't lead. I don't think and that is when I like it the most. That is when I remembered I wanted to go on a date. I decided I will install these trendy apps that are viral nowadays.
''There you have my keys, we are still in separated rooms, but still.''
He nodded in agreement of hoping that I have some common sense and I know what he implies. As I am grabbing the keys from his hands on the corridor in this fancy hotel in Japan, I don't bother to say anything to him. As I turned around to walk to my apartment he said ''I don't need you for today, you have a free time''
I took a deep breath and encouraged myself to go even faster.
Give me your name and I will give you my last name
These guys hereeee. Ugh. Now I remember why I stopped finding my 'match' on these apps. These guys are cringe asf and the only thing they care about is the color of your panties, not your name. I chuckle as I scroll some more on the sofa in the luxurious living room that I roll my eyes at. Anything that reminds me of Charles is annoying. Luxurious cars, clothes and even hotels are annoying because of him. I fumed and threw the phone next to my lying side. My vision goes blur and black as put my hands over my eyes and try to just breathe. Just when I get into the moment, I receive a notification.
It is some guy called Patrick. I looked at his profile and I have to say I was slightly amused. A nice handsome guy, who is appearing normal. I accepted his offer and in one minute I receive his message.
When I saw your face I could not look away:)
I'm not gonna lie, it did flatter me.
Good for you you didn't:)
I'm Patrick. Not from here, as i see you are not from here either I'm YN. I'm just visiting for few days. Better to make it rememberable
I don't know what this guy was but he intrigued me and I accepted to go on a date with him. I put myself together very nicely and went on a date with him. He picked me up in a luxurious car (Charles) and greeted me with a beautiful smile. I had to give him credits for how handsome he is IRL. ''Hello you''
I have to chuckle as I make my finish line to him. ''Well nice to see you too''
I smirk at him and look him in the eyes. Brown eyes. Simple. Nothing complex. Not like Charles's eyes. *(internal grunt)*
''What's wrong?''
He asks me genuinely with frown on his face. I shrug it off with a mild smile that it is nothing, just that I am cold. He raises his eyebrows but don't comment it. Instead he opens the doors for me and I sit down, ready for the adventure of what this date will bring.
The date itself was very nice, a simple dinner with a beautiful view on the city underneath us. Patrick is very casual and calm guy, well mannered and well spoken. There was nothing wrong with him, yet, I felt shallow. I did not feel alive. I thought to it it is because of my shitty mood from earlier. More of someone specific. I checked my phone to see if I am not needed but nothing came.
''I see there is something bothering you''
I lift my gaze and look at Patrick. I give him apologetic smile and take my phone away.
''Just work''
He gives me a knowing smile but he doesn't know it is not the job itself but the person behind it. And I hate myself for letting that happen. I don't want to feel like that, especially with a decent man in front of me. We go back to our conversation and as the time goes by, I finally managed to forget about Charles.
Patrick talked to me about his life, how he started and how it lead him to be where he is now. I genuinely liked to listen to him and it was certain that his guy know what he is doing in life. He has a goal and it appears no struggle take him from it. Unlike me.
When he asks me about my life, I keep it very simple. I don't want to tell him how I lost everything I could, everything I had for the last twenty years known to my life. And there are few things that I am passionate about. one of them are chocolate desserts and so I call for one, to keep the attention from me and my 'old' life.
On our way back to a hotel I stay silent and let my mind wander wherever it wants. Patrick from time to time asked me about something but it looked like he respects my quiet time I need for myself. It is hard to talk when my body is met with so much food to process!
''I know I enjoyed it, I hope you did as well YN''
I smile at him and I cannot lie that it wasn't enjoyable. I give him a light nod with a smile.
He helps me out of the car and then we stand facing each other.
''Can I see you again?''
I look up to his warm brown eyes and melt for a second. They remind me of all those people in my life that I love so much. They are so welcoming. It makes me so vulnerable that I say yes.
I slightly chuckle and keep smiling more to myself than to him. He takes a strand of hair from my face and put it behind my ears.
I see someone familiar on the left and my eyes wander there to see Joris with some other men. My body immediately goes tense and I search for him. But he is not there. Weird.
''You know them?''
I forgot about Patrick at all and my eyes widen at his sudden presence. ''Oh, uhm, yes, they are from work.''
I go back to look at Joris who is watching me closely as well.
''Oh, I see.''
I put my focus back to Patrick and give him a smile. ''Thank you for the date, I enjoyed it.''
He just nodded and kissed my hand with a promising look of a second date.
Right after I left the place in front of the hotel building, I lost track of time and focus on outer world that I just blankly stared on the wall in front of me. As the wall split in a half and opened for me, I blinked from the intrusion and get out from the elevator. I blindly walked to my apartment and opened the doors.
Darkness. Weird, I swear I left the lamp on. As I shrug it off, on my way to the bedroom I semi half get off the dress that were suffocating me the whole time after I ate the delicious chocolate dessert. That is why I get from having a sweet tooth. As I groan with the zipper in my lower back a light hits my senses. I blink many times in order to adjust to the surrounding and when the blurry lines make a form I see Charles staring at me expressionless. I stood there like a thief caught red handed and what gets me moving is his eyes lingering on my exposed chest and stomach.
I immediately cover myself and run to my right, even though I don't know what is there.
''Oh my god, i'm sor-'' ''-I'm sorry, I'm sorry!''
As I lay my back on the wall behind me I struggle to breath as my breathing became shallow. ''I-I thought this is my appartment. I'm so sorry''
All I hear is a chuckle and I frown at the reason for him to chuckle at all! I swear this guy just pisses me off.
''It's okay. What about I give you some space and wait in the corridor?''
I hum back in approval and get back in the dress so I don't walk half naked! With a grunt and victim mindset I get out the bathroom and straight to the door where is Charles waiting. There is a hint of amusement in his eyes and small smirk forming on his lips.
''It's not funny''
He chuckles even more and make few steps to me.
''I have to admit that I am glad I gave you my keys''
I stay watching him closely, with a smirk on his face, with my mouth parted a little at his sudden words and my eyebrows lift up. When I become aware there is silence between us I shut my mouth back again and roll my shoulders back.
''It's not gonna happen again''
I said it more with a threatening undertone and reached for the knob to leave this place. His place.
All I hear on my way out is ''What a shame''
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lightlycareless · 3 months
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Naoya's reaction when y/n's thighs expand 3 times its size when she sits down. For my girlie's that have thick thighs 🙏🙏 plus me. Serious insecurity but damn wouldn't that be Naoya's 2nd favourite thing after tiddies. Definitely would give some criticism that y/n don't exercise enough and that's why her thighs are like that,but would br also smother his face between her thighs? Yes
Hello anon!!
Ngl when I first read this ask (the beginning) I was like HUH? But then I read the rest and was like ugh same. I kind of relate to what you feel, that plus chafing and what not 💀
ANYWAYS I hope you enjoy this debauched piece. :) ehehehe dunno what was going through my head but I liked it.
warnings: NSFW. THOUGH NOT DETAILED, THERE'S SMUT. MINORS DNI. Naoya and the Zen'in are perverts, some more explicit than others. Also misogynistic views, unwanted commentary about bodies.
Happy reading!
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You know what I was thinking?
Naoya being so obsessed with your body, that the moment he sees you he doesn’t even bother to make formal introductions or anything; nope.
He just needed to see you sit down one time, one time, unwittingly getting a very detailed look of how your thighs just become bigger underneath your skirt, alongside the adorably cute way you attempted to tug the edge down to avoid revealing too much (Naoya had seen more than enough at that point, of course he did.) and that was it for him to know you’d be the perfect wife.
So, fast forward a few weeks, after making the right arrangements, you’re effectively married to him, “happily” living in the Zen’in estate, where he can keep an eye on you, close to whenever he might need to make use of your wifely commitments—but most importantly, underneath constant scrutiny that not even your role as future Lady of the House could save you from.
The torments you’re subjected to here aren’t ones you haven’t heard before, in fact, you’ve heard enough of them to not care anymore…
But perhaps being married to Naoya, something that many cautioned would probably never happen due to your appearance, was enough to finally make them hurt.
His family just couldn’t… wrap their mind around the fact that from all women in the world, literally anyone else, he chose you: the epitome of laziness as they’d like to say. The sheer example of not being able to control one’s selfish desires in favor of temporary satisfaction.
In a world where thinner, athletic physiques were encouraged, you sure stood out like a sore thumb.
It wasn’t your fault, though. Some people were simply born that way, with different genetics and there was nothing wrong with that.
But to them, that was not enough of an excuse, if there ever was one; and once you heard for the last time how Naoya was simply tolerating you because, well, because of some unknown reason, you had enough.
You were tired of constantly hearing them belittling your worth, comparing you to whichever woman they brought along to hopefully convince Naoya into divorcing you—or at least sow his seeds on a more suitable candidate; a fact made worse when he seemingly didn’t put a resistance to their invitations, chipping away at your confidence.
And above all, you were exhausted of unwittingly highlighting the faults in your relationship, the clear signs that Naoya was never truly happy with you, such as those scarce moments of intimacy the two shared. Those that you didn’t think much of, outside of fear and pain, for he never struck you to be the kind, patient lover (and he wasn’t).
But now that these issues were highlighted… you could only feel sorrowful.
Naoya, while insatiable when it comes to lust, seemed to have only spent the night with you for political reasons. To fulfill his duty of securing the future of the Zen’in—not because he ever harbored desire for you.
Yet, why did you even expect otherwise? For he too demeaned you with cruel commentaries, and with the one thing you were mostly self-conscious about…
“You know, your thighs wouldn’t be that big if you actually worked out or something…”
“Don’t wear that. I don’t want you to show your legs—it’s already unbefitting a woman, but in your case… well, it’s only necessary.”
That was more than enough to finally push you to the edge and do the one thing many were constantly pestering you about: not to eat. Though in your defense, it’s not like you felt like doing so anyways, the voices and faces of those that hurt you were quick to put you back in your place if you even did as little as consider it, ruining your appetite.
And you managed to keep this way for a few days, at least until you began to grow sick, tired, unable to tend to your duties as you did before, which did not escape your staff’s attention, and subsequently, Naoya’s.
“What the fuck is wrong with you??” Naoya would exclaim first thing upon returning from a mission; tired. The last thing he wanted to do was deal with the complaints of your lacking commitment, the only goddamn thing you had to do around the estate. “To go ahead and cause problems to my family, taint my name—have you got no shame?!”
“I didn’t mean to…” you murmur, yourself tired as well, due for other reasons, made worse by Naoya’s reproach.
“Then do you mind explaining what the hell were you thinking? What were you planning to do? Get my attention??” He frowns. “Dramatic, but what else could I expect from a woman like you?”
“Please, Naoya… I don’t feel like arguing…”
“No, of course not. You don’t feel like doing anything, do you? Not even eating!” He remarked. “What? Trying to lose some weight, now? Is that what’s gotten into your mind?”
You remain silent, giving him enough of an answer. He laughs.
“So it is that!” He boasts. “I can’t believe it, Y/N! I didn’t think you’d be so stupid to actually do that!”
“Leave me alone…” you whisper, tears beginning to pool around your eyes.
“To what? Puke your guts out, now? Don’t be stupid!” Naoya continues to jest. “I knew women were desperate, but I didn’t think you’d break the mold!”
His words, perhaps out of your already brewing insecurities, or simply because you’ve grown tired of his mockery, wash you over with an unprecedented wave of anger, dropping your heart to the pit of your stomach as you sharply turn around, ready to take a stand for yourself once and for all.
“And why do you care so much, hm, Naoya?!” You cry. “Weren’t you also one of those that always bothered me about my weight? About how embarrassing I am to your name simply because of the way I look?!”
He flinches, startled by your reaction at first, but soon angered by it as well.
“I won’t tolerate your disrespect—” he frowns, yet you don’t let him continue.
“You even ask me to cover myself up!” you gasp. “You’re so—you’re so disgusted by how I look that you—you wouldn’t mind if I spent the rest of my life locked away so you won’t ever have to see—”
“Do you hear yourself?” Naoya seethes, taking your hand and pulling you to him with such strength that instantly startles you, making you squirm in reaction, trying to move away but he keeps you still, understanding you’ve officially made him furious. “Do you hear the stupidities you’re spewing?!”
“Leave—leave me alone.” You whimper, tears sliding down your cheeks. “You’re hurting me!”
“I ought to hurt you more for insulting me!”
“Insulting… you?” you repeat, confused. “How was this insulting to you?!”
“You think I’d let you walk around the estate like a whore? Let you display what’s mine?!”
“Naoya, you’re not—you’re not making any sense.” You respond, shame settling in your heart. “If you’re going to make fun of me—!”
“You’re fucking stupid, did you know that?” Is all that he says before pushing you against the wall, making you whimper when roughly hitting the wooden pillar behind, a noise that is quickly shut by his lips landing on yours, wasting no time for his tongue to battle yours, subduing you. “So fucking stupid…”
He’d murmur, you moan.
“Na—Naoya—” you breathe, torn apart by his desire and your confusion. Didn’t he… dislike you? “St—stop!”
“What is it that you wanted me to do? Stand aside as my family ogles at you?!”
“Don’t you mean—don’t you mean scrutinize?!” you gasp, flinching when his lips move from yours, down to your jaw, then neck… “Stop—stop mocking me!”
“I should feel offended by your stupidity, if anything.” He responds, pulling away from you to take a good look into your teary eyes—as if trying to assess if you really declared such atrocity, or if it was work of his own anguished mind. “Your blindness to acknowledge what I truly think of you.”
“They—they hate me.” You tremble, why would he want you to remember such an awful thing? “You hate me—”
“No, Y/N.” Naoya groans, pressing closer to you while taking your hand once more to move it down to his groin where his hardening cock was in full display for you to feel, destroying the perceptions you had of everything around you—around him. “This is what you make them feel— what you make me feel!”
“Nao—Naoya—” you tremble, trying to move away your hand from his growing length, intimidated that he somehow felt even bigger underneath your palm; giving the impression his desire for you right now was much stronger than any other instances. But… how? Or more likely, Why? “I don’t—I don’t get it—!”
“Do you really think I’d be blind to the way they stare at you? To their futile attempts of bringing you down, of changing you, just so they’d stop thinking what your skin feels like underneath their fingertips—or how sweet your cunt tastes like?” Naoya breathed, continuing to rub your hand against his cock, desperate to let you know how much he needs his release—how he wants to throw this senseless discussion away…
But not without declaring his upper hand, the one he always had with his family, of course. “But they can’t” He smirks. “The moment I saw you, I knew you’d be the perfect wife, the perfect mother for my children.”
The thought of harboring such desire from Naoya made your cunt tighten, the same way his cock twitches.
“They’re just jealous I got to you first.” He continues. “That I was able to see your worth just by your wide hips and ample bosom—you’re the epitome of femininity… but even better—
You’re all mine.”
“But you—but you said horrible things to me—” you cry, his lascivious words still not enough to remove the pain from those awful moments. “Why…?”
“Aw, my love.” Naoya chuckles, cupping your face with his hands and squeezing it so softly, making you pout, a face he always loved to incite from you, amongst others. “I just can’t help it; your reactions are so adorable; you simply make it too easy.”
His hands then travel down to the edges of your skirt, lifting your kimono just enough to reveal your smooth legs to him, the same ones he always had touch and kneed whenever you were close, the mere sight of them enough to make him further spiral into his desire—
If not anger when seeing the flimsy piece of cloth covering your cunt, fingers quick to grab the edge and rip it apart, letting out a quick gasp from your mouth.
“How many times have I told you to stop wearing these stupidities?!” He hisses. “You know damn well than to go against the words of your own husband!”
“But you—you hadn’t touched me.” You fret. “Since that night, we… you hadn’t—I didn’t think it was necessary.”
“You truly couldn’t be any dumber, could you? Just because I’ve been busy does that mean you can go on and disobey my words?” Naoya accuses with a jesting tone that serves to place the direction of his following actions. “My lovely wife is really that naive… luckily for you, I’m the one in charge of doing all the thinking, while you—you just have to stay like this, ready for me…
To take my cock like the good whore of a wife you are, with that lewd body of yours that is only mine. Exclaiming for me to give you a baby, make you a mother, make your hips wider, your breasts bigger, filled milk—”
And the way your body tightens against him, letting out a moan when his hands parted your legs, guiding his cock onto your dampened slit and gently pushed the head into you, let’s him know this desire has settled in the back of your mind for quite some time, but never revealed itself by the stupidities of his own family, his too undeniably.
But after these agonizing days away from you, forced so by his job, if not those insignificant whores his family brought in an attempt to push him away from you, failing to do so for he quickly discarded them as soon as they crossed his sight…
He’ll never let the opportunity to claim you pass again.
Naoya will do whatever necessary to drill that idea into that little, pathetic mind of yours, even if it means fucking you in the middle of the hallway, where all servants and relatives alike would be able to hear his message loud and clear.
The reality they could only dream of in their most desperate moments—but to him, it was only a matter of taking.
“Naoya—Naoya please—not here.” You whimper, your husband had effectively forced you onto the ground and made you take his cock, either from behind, hands and knees on the wooden floor as he teased and kneaded your ass and hips; he was an avid enjoyed of many positions, but this one had to be one of his favorite ones. To see your skin bounce whenever his hips slammed into you, savoring the way your lewd cunt swallowed him whole, down to the base, with no intentions of letting go, regardless of what you said, it was surprising he still had some restraint. “Please—they’re—they’re going to see!”
“Let them.” Naoya moans, the thought of being caught sends a shiver through his spine; and while it’s not something he necessarily advocated for, the constant, tiring need to be proving his authority over you is what forced him to do so. You might as well play along. “Let them hear how tight your cunt is around my cock! How only I can make you come undone like this—”
“N—No—I don’t—I don’t want…!” you whimper, but even when he changed positions, having you on top of him, giving him sight of the breasts he couldn’t wait to see grow when you’re inevitably pregnant, you still do not stop jumping on his cock, moving your hips up and down alongside his, clenching whenever hitting that sensitive spot that always had you seeing stars. “I don’t want to cum—!”
“Then maybe—Maybe you shouldn’t have this lewd body.” Naoya moans, truly believing that he would never be able to stop himself from using every inch of your body for his own pleasure—from fucking his cock between your soft thighs and boobs, admiring the way they completely cover his cock, drowning it in a combination of softness and his own seed, barely able to see where the tip of his head was…
To relieve that same sensation with his own face, asking you—no, demanding you to smother him with your thighs, a sensation that has him thinking if he were to die this way, cock hard, eased by your soft licks and moans, while deep in the sweet taste of your cunt, he wouldn’t mind it, not one bit.
In fact, he hopes that’s the way he goes.
But he’s in no rush to avoid enjoying the present, the warmth of your body besides him when the two eventually stop, careless to acknowledge if they ever gathered an audience, certainly so when Naoya’s mind was firmly set in getting you pregnant, as heard by his following words.
“I’ll see you tonight.” He declares. “It’s about time you give me a heir.”
And you do nothing but oblige, though you doubted all the cum nestled inside your cervix hadn’t done the job already.
“Naoya, you’re—oh!” You gasp when instead of waiting for you to stand up to properly greet him, he lowers down to your level, taking a seat before eventually resting his head over your lap, taking a deep sigh and resting for the first time after a long week of work. “Is… everything alright?”
In fact, you relished the idea. If it meant getting this side of Naoya’s desire, attention you didn’t think to be deserving of, or even capable of obtaining…. Then you were nothing but obedient.
“I’m tired.” He responds, adjusting himself into an even better position and sighing once more. “I don’t want to talk.”
So, you don’t, preferring instead to softly caress his head, moving some of his silky black threads away from his face and letting him relax, enough to dive into the beginnings of his slumber, but not before clearing his mind from one doubt.
“Our baby—”
“He’s fine.” You murmur, placing your hand over your stomach. It’s still very early during the pregnancy to know so, and yet, there was something about you that just made it so obvious that you were carrying a life inside you—
Perhaps it was the way you glowed, or how you became softer with him ever since it was first announced.
Though the latter was mostly the fact that you started to feel… wanted by your husband, a kind of desire that while far from perfect, was enough for you to change your perspective of this marriage, allowing you to open up to him, mostly so when Naoya now defended you from those unwanted comments from his family.
You’re carrying the future of the Zen’in, after all, some decorum must be maintained.
Yet something tells you his changed demeaner ran far deeper than what Naoya wanted to reveal. «All in due time» you suppose.
“I love you, and our baby too.” You say, instinctively taken by this calm moment of domesticity with your loving husband, not expecting a response considering his somewhat cold nature—only to be proven wrong when he turns around to see you, silently placing his gaze on yours in such way that initially makes you think you might’ve ruined this moment, just for him to pull you closer to him, taking your lips in a soft, quick kiss before returning to your lap, closing his eyes and sleeping.
He may not have said it, but the sentiment was the same, and that was enough for you to be happy.
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Naoya is still a jerk, but I like to think he eventually got to genuinely care about you. Also, he got real lucky that one time he thought with his dick, imagine if you were a piece of shit too? NAH He'd lose it. He got real lucky that you were nice, I tell you...
Also, I'm still with the pregnancy stuff :) sorrynotsorry.
OH! and also!! It's safe to say that the things Naoya said are NOT a reflection of what I think!! Everybody is beautiful and deserving of love, no matter what body type ❤️
Now, thank you so much for sending this niche ask... I gotta say, I have been thinking about it since I do relate to it............... but I try to keep my work pretty open-ended so anyone can relate :) Still, if there's something you'd like me to write a bit more detailed, just let me know! I'll be sure to try my best tho, some I might reject if I don't feel like I know much about the matter....
Anyways, thank you so much for this ask ❤️ take care, and hope to see you soon ❤️
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redflagshipwriter · 7 months
Text
Nest Swap 3 (baby Tim wakes up in Red Robin's life)
This was without a doubt the best day that Tim Drake had ever had. It was probably the best day any Drake ever had, actually. He was never going back to elementary school. He would use a laser on anyone who tried to take him there. There was probably one here, actually. He set off looking for one.
He found a notebook and a clicky pen with six different colors that he used to take a note about everything he found, to get his thoughts in order. After he had inventoried all the coolest stuff in the secret hideout, he went back upstairs. He was yawning too much to do a lot tonight and anyway, he had to be up in the morning to help Miss Fox. He had important responsibilities to uphold, just like Mom.
Going to bed presented a little bit of a challenge. He dug through the drawers to borrow pajamas, nose wrinkled up at how terrible these clothes were. Most of them were boring. They were way too big, of course. It troubled him.
He dug under the sink and found some super concerning things. He looked in a plastic box in the bathroom closet and eventually found a package of spare toothbrushes. Tim felt a little gross about borrowing toothpaste from a stranger's tube, but he didn't see a way around it. He brushed his teeth, washed his face with something he found in the main bathroom, and took a fast shower.
Tim stood in the main bedroom for a while, pursing his lips. It was where he found all his cool stuff, but it was probably personal space. “I think it would be presumptuous to sleep here,” he decided. He gathered up the electronics and their cords and hauled it all into the next bedroom.
He crawled into bed and tucked himself in. He was out in a matter of minutes, even though the hallway light was still on.
He woke up when he woke up, because he totally forgot that he didn't have an alarm set here. Oops. Tim had a sinking feeling in his stomach as he crawled across the bed to check the time.
It was 9:34 already!?! He was late for Miss Fox! Tim scrambled to open up the email- and breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank gosh,” he said. He put the phone in his pants pocket and shuffled to the kitchen.
The weight of the phone pulled the pants down to his knees.
“Ugh!” Tim shouted, because he could. He took the phone out and hiked the pants back up with one hand. He kept complaining, because it was fun. “Terrible pants,” he scolded them. “Falling down, in this economy?” His voice went up way too high when he quoted his dad's favorite complaint while reading the news. Tim cheerfully waved his hands around and channeled his Mom next. “As per my last email!” He ended it with a foot stomp.
Wow, that one was fun. He felt powerful. He decided he was going to use that one today. Tim put the phone and tablet on the table and made sure the volume was up. Then he tried to find breakfast. He knew alllll about breakfast, and so did the guy who lived here.
Usually Ms. Mac made it if his parents were gone, or Dad made it if they were home. But Tim knew the formula. For breakfast, you pick a piece of fruit, a carb, and two drinks. If you're fancy, you have a hot serving of protein.
And Tim? Tim was fancy.
He picked a banana out of the fruit bowl and cut it up with a big chopping knife he found sitting in a wooden block, like kitchen Excalibur. He forgot to take the peel off first, so that was annoying.
For drinks, he found a carton of milk that actually smelled pretty bad. “Boo,” Tim said sadly. He poured it down the sink and then got out a can of Zesti. It was grape, so it was probably the best substitute for fruit juice available.
You also need a hot drink for breakfast, so he made a whole pot of coffee and bounced on his heels while it dripped, feeling very adult. He looked at the coffee packaging for a while, lost in thought with his tongue sticking out slightly between his lips. It had a great picture of an atrocious cat thing on it, and said it was AUTHENTIC FANALOKA COFFEE. He liked the cat. It looked like it was designed by an evil scientist who had never seen a cat.
Tim didn't know what Fanaloka meant in this context, though he surmised it was the cat’s name. He moved on with his day.
It was harder to find a carb. There was cereal, but that was yucky without the milk. He found two bagels, but there wasn't any cream cheese! What was wrong with this guy?
He eventually gave up and toasted a bagel. Morosely, he got out butter. Maybe that would be good enough.
The piece de la resistance was bacon. He found a package of it in the freezer. It was all frozen. It was way too hard for him to take off two strips.
His first thought was to cut it up with Excalibur and then fry up just a little. But the fry pan was super duper heavy. So he just microwaved the whole thing for 5 minutes.
It smelled great!
The bagel in the toaster was actually really cold then. He heated it one more time and then frowned at it when it came out too brown. “You get what you get and you don't throw a fit,” he grimly quoted Ms. Mac, and climbed up the tall stool to sit at the counter. He buttered the bagel. Like, he buttered it a lot. Maybe that would help.
It was still kinda hard to eat. He peeled open the bacon and fished some out with his fork. It was all wiggly. Tim tried it. “That's good,” he said, pleased. He had another strip of bacon. Oh! The coffee!
He hopped down from the stool and ran over to find a mug. He filled it with coffee and tasted his creation. Hm. He had another sip.
“It tastes bad,” Tim said contemplatively.
Did that mean he used too many beans or too few beans?
The only way to find out was experimentation. He dumped out all the coffee, threw away the wet beans, and made it again with like, twice as many beans. He went and ate his banana and about half of the bagel while the coffee percolated itself. Then he tried the coffee again. He took a slow sip. His nose wrinkled. “Maybe this coffee is just disgusting?”
Mom always gave it to him with sugar and milk, like how she had it. Obviously the loser who lived here had let his milk expire (Mom would never) so Tim gave it up as a bad job.
His first email arrived with a ding during breakfast. Tim opened it with a slightly greasy finger and read it while he gnawed at the bagel.
Hmm. Miss Fox was concerned about something going on in R&D and she wanted him to replicate an experiment by the notes the scientist was using. She didn't want to bias him by telling him her suspicion, so that was all the information she was giving him.
Tim used one hand to laboriously type back an okey-dokey message, in business language.
When he finished eating he dumped everything in the sink. That was probably good enough. He grabbed the phone and the tablet. Then he went to bother the fish, so that he could use the laboratory downstairs.
The phone buzzed while he was going down the stairs. He felt it against his chest where it was stuck between his body and the tablet. Hmm. It buzzed again. “Just a minute,” Tim said crossly. It kept going off! Wow, that was so annoying.
As soon as he got downstairs he put down the tablet and scowled at the phone. He was getting like a billion messages from someone named Dick. “I am WORKING!,” Tim said to himself as he typed up and sent the same message.
Dick sent like 42 crying faces. Tim groaned and scrolled up to see the last couple of messages, just in case they were important.
Uh.
“These messages don't look important,” Tim said, raising his eyebrows at babble about how Dick missed him and he hadn't checked in last night and “the family” was afraid that he had fallen in a hole or been eaten by a lion. Apparently someone called Dami had drawn up what they thought that might look like, in case they needed to show the police. Dick had included it as an attachment.
Tim clicked on it, curious even though he knew he really shouldn't open attachments from weird people. These were definitely weird people.
It was a really good picture. He told Dick as much and then blocked the number. He needed to get stuff done today.
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