@croptopjames // frat boy james in a very tiny t-shirt proves to be quite distracting when regulus is trying to study // words: 687
Regulus is just about to consider the pros and cons of repeatedly slamming his head into the desk when the door opens.
He’s holed away in James’ room, escaping the madness of his own dorm, where Evan is frantically trying to memorize human anatomy, and the library, where Regulus’ soul vacates his body one hour at a time.
James is a willing host, although he seems to have some trouble letting Regulus study. He had to send his boyfriend on a run to get some quiet, because James can be very very distracting when he wants to be.
Thankfully, Regulus has managed to make his way through a good few chapters by the time James returns and it’s for the better because—
“Hi, sweetheart,” James pants, sweat dripping down his neck, catching on the gold chain that disappears under the collar of his shirt. “Got some studying done?”
Regulus swallows dryly. His eyes catch on the strip of skin between the hem of James’ t-shirt and shorts.
His t-shirt. His very tiny t-shirt. His t-shirt that rides up when James lifts a hand to card through his sweaty curls and reveals more tan skin. Dark hair trails down his stomach and disappears beneath the waistband of his boxers, a path Regulus is eager to track.
There is cotton in Regulus’ head, static between his ears, not a single thought behind his eyes, only a continuous loop of JamesJamesJamesJa—
“Take a picture, baby. It’ll last longer.”
Heat floods Regulus’ face. “Shut up.”
“No, I’m flattered, really.” James lifts a hand and presses it against his still-heaving chest.
“Your own boyfriend ogling you is not a flex.”
“No, but half the campus ogling me is.”
“Only half?” Regulus mocks, bottom lip jutting out in a pout. He ignores the spark of annoyance he feels; James is just trying to rile him up, he knows this. But James is very good at finding Regulus’ last nerve and picking at it until it snaps.
Admittedly, the stress of exam week leaves him slightly more irritable than he usually would be, so when he asks, “Where is the rest of your shirt, by the way?” there is a bit more bite in his tone than he intended.
James simply shrugs. “Laundry day.”
Regulus’ eye twitches.
He turns in his chair again, eyes trained on the chapter he is currently revising. It is riveting stuff, something about Alexander the Great and his conquest of Macedonia. Except, the words swim on the page, none of them registering, but Regulus refuses to give James the satisfaction of— of— well, he just refuses to give James the satisfaction.
“Sweetheart…” James murmurs, voice low and sweet, tempting Regulus into looking up again. He’s leaning against the door frame, posture relaxed but his brow furrowed. Neither of them says anything when their gazes meet.
“You really shouldn’t be allowed out of the house like this, you know. It’s obscene.” Regulus’ voice sounds rough. It is not annoyance that makes the words gravelly.
“Are you mad at me?” James crosses his arms in front of his chest, the muscles in his arms bulging a little with the movement. He tilts his head in consideration.
Regulus scoffs and a slow smile spreads across James’ face.
“Regulus, sweetheart, are you mad at me?”
“Yes!” Regulus slams his textbook shut. “Because you’re distracting me! Again!”
The corner of James' mouth twitches. He says nothing for a moment, simply regards Regulus. Then:
“Wanna get it out of your system?”
The question has barely left his lips before Regulus is shoving the chair back, not too worried about the way it topples over onto the floor. He is much too busy tugging James’ shorts down, allowing a hand to trail up up up under James’ shirt and splay possessively over his abs while he swallows his boyfriend whole.
The next time James and his very tiny t-shirt go for a run, Regulus makes sure no one gets any ideas. A hickey on the tan skin of his stomach tells everyone that they can look all they want but James Potter is a taken man.
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watched love simon again, had a breakdown, bon appetit.
something about how simon had (eventually) all that support - his mom told him he got to breathe now, his dad apologized for the jokes and for never seeing it, everyone said they loved him, that he was still him
anyway. rough never got the chance to do that (at least not to that extent, albeit also avoiding the wretched way it went down). at most, he came out to some friends at college, but not fully, not to everyone
and yeah, his parents might've been fine with it. emily probably would've. they would've all adjusted. eventually. but now he'll never know, is the issue. he won't get to tell them, and now everyone is going to remember him wrong. they are going to label and bury a casket containing a body that no longer belongs to him (and frankly, hasn't belonged to him in a long time)
functionally, he wasted his time. he Did School, then he graduated and Did College, then he died. he didn't get to Do a real relationship, or being himself. "you get to breathe now, you're still you" but is he? he never was himself, not all the way. "oh you're still yourself on the inside, no matter what other people saw or say" other people see him buried and mourn a girl who died years ago and he can't correct them
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satoru was your personal rose toy. he latched that mouth around that clit and got to work with whatever you wanted, and his reward was your squirt.
he never had any complaints and would always smile widely when you told him you were horny and needed to use his mouth.
this started when you saw online that people were using a sec toy called a “rose” saying it worked wonders and had to use one so of course out of pure curiosity you ordered one.
when it arrived, you were so giddy to try it, and it had you bouncing off the walls and your sheets covered in your fluids.
it had you off the moon that you would use it every-time satoru wasn’t at the house and one lucky day satoru caught you. even though he was harder than a rock, he was annoyed that you were getting off on that thing.
so he did the only thing he could think of at that moment and from his selfish, greedy needs. snatching the toy out your hand and throwing it away telling you that any time
you wanted to get off to just tell him, and oh boy did he hold up to that.
at first, you laughed at the theatrics and thought he was just going off on a whim, and the first day he would be tired of fucking or eating you out every minute, but you thought wrong.
every time you uttered out a “satoru” with a pout, he was on top of you, ripping off your clothes, giving your pussy exactly what it needed at that moment.
it was like having a bell and every time you ring it he would come running giving you whatever you needed.
even though the rose felt good and felt as though it was sucking your soul out, satoru’s mouth and dick felt way better, it had that euphoric feel, it had you craving him, it had your mouth dry for more.
you knew after the first orgasm around his dick that you wanted him to keep fucking you so he complied. he never had any complaints about it, and would fuck you like he hadn’t seen you in a month.
“i want to keep fucking you like this. you feel so fucking good.”
even if he wasn’t around he would talk
to you on the phone and guide you through an orgasm that had your screams bouncing off the walls.
he wanted you to himself, so he would do anything and i mean anything to keep it that way.
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