#(alone on a friday night? god you’re pathetic) | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

kyriethesquishysquid · 1 year ago

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When The Lights Go Out (John Price/Fem!Reader)

Summary: Captain Price and our lovely reader are neighbors in an apartment complex. Being a single mom to a four-year-old little girl, the reader tries to deny her feelings for the Captain, too afraid of rejection and ruining their friendship. It seems that fate has other plans for them when the apartment building loses power one fateful night. (Yeah, I’m bad at summaries, sue me lol)

Word count: (Somehow) ~9.5k

A/N: Uhh... sorry this came out a lot longer than I expected lol. Some use of Y/N. Reader’s description is left rather vague but there are details as to her being short, chubby, and with hair long enough to pull back.

TW: Alcohol use. A few angry lines about infidelity of the ex-husband. Porn with minor plot. Romance and smut. Size kink, slight age gap (reader is somewhere around 25ish-30ish), dom/sub themes, M!dom, F!sub, some daddy kink, voice kink, dirty talk, squirting, and loottss of pet names (I’m a whore for pet names) including good girl, princess, darling, love, and daddy.

“This is pathetic,” you muttered glumly.

Throwing back the last bit of wine in your glass, you set it down and started filling it up again. Alone, on a Friday night, drinking at home and daydreaming about your hunk of a neighbor. God, you needed a hobby. Of course, being a single mom and working full time didn’t exactly give you the time to do much anyway, but you always felt the full brunt of loneliness on the few nights you were alone with your thoughts. Emma was with your parents at their beachside home for the weekend and there you were at home, lonely and wishing you had the balls to ask the man down the hall on a date. As you started sipping on your second glass, you let your thoughts wander back to the last time you had seen him a little over a week ago.

…

“Picey! It’s Picey!” Emma’s little voice cheered, drawing your gaze up from your phone.

A flush warmed your cheeks gently when you met your neighbor's eyes as he entered the elevator, empathetically taking in his tired and pensive expression. You managed a little smile and a wave despite the way your heart began racing at the proximity of his form beside yours.

Standing at about six feet tall with broad shoulders and muscular arms that easily rivaled the thickness of your thighs, Captain Price was one of the, if not the, hottest men you’d ever seen. That wasn’t even counting the beautiful mutton chops and mustache combo he sported or the way his intense blue eyes crinkled at the edges when he blessed you with his bright smile. Yeah, safe to say, you were helplessly smitten with the older military man.

“Hey, munchkin!” Price replied, all traces of exhaustion lifting immediately as he ruffled her hair, “Hello, munchkin’s mum.”

“Hello, Captain. It’s good to see you made it home safe,” you said sweetly.

Before he could respond, Emma reached out towards the captain with little grabby hands. There was a moment where you considered pulling your daughter away, not wanting to make Price feel awkward, but then he lifted his hands in waiting. You thought your heart would explode, watching him set the toddler on his hip as if she belonged there naturally while she started babbling to him about cookies.

“Chocolate chip, huh? You’re gonna sneak me some over, aye?” he asked in a conspiratorial whisper, eyes flickering to meet yours with mirth.

“As long as you promise you’re gonna be there tonight,” you replied coyly, “No running out on another mission without telling us, got it?”

Mastering your best stern mom look, you challenged his gaze only for the big man to break into a grin. The two of you had a little system going on. You brought him dinner and sweets on the nights he was home, and he’d let you know when he was heading out of town so you didn’t freak out when you didn’t see him for a while. It started after the first time you’d made the landlord do a wellness check when you hadn’t seen him for over a week. Safe to say, you were mortified when he confronted you about it, but he took it in stride; said it was nice to have someone outside of work looking out for him. This last trip was the first time since then that he’d left without warning and you couldn’t deny that it had made you sick with worry.

“I figured you’d be upset over that but, in my defense, I got the call at two in the mornin’ and I wasn’t about to wake up the lil missus just for that,” he explained.

Your conversation was interrupted by the ding of the lift, gazes turning forward as the doors opened onto your floor. He waved you forward and followed you down to your end of the hall, all the while engaging Emma in a conversation about her newest love- Dora. A pang of sadness tugged at your heartstrings when you stopped at your door and had to unlock it, signaling the end of your impromptu hang-out with the Captain.

“Will you be home around six?” you asked as you took Emma back from him.

“Should be.”

Giving him a little nod, you replied, “Good, expect a delivery around then.”

…

He had to leave that next morning for another mission and still wasn’t back yet. Logically, you knew that he could be gone anywhere from a few days to a couple of months at a time, but that didn’t make you worry any less each time.

“Good god, I need to get laid,” you mused, eyes darting to your phone on the charger, “Would Tinder be worth it?”

You were debating the pros and cons of downloading the dating app when there was a sudden pop and everything went black around you, your dim phone screen the only source of light in your pitch-black apartment. A little scream fled your lips as the darkness immediately closed in around you like an assailant, the shadows mimicking fingers against your skin and evoking terrifying thoughts.

“Shit, shit, shit, fuck, shit!”

Jumping off of the bar stool, you made a mad dash across the kitchen in hopes of finding all the candles you had hiding in the storage closet. Of course, it was just your luck that you forgot that you had left one of the cabinets open just enough to catch your knee, the unexpected impact sending you flying across the floor with a shriek. Almost instantly, you could feel the bruises rising under your skin but even those were nothing compared to the blinding pain across your knee. Stifling curses under your breath, you turned your phone light on again to assess the damage and couldn’t help but whimper at the sight of blood dripping down your leg. A simple gash but painful nonetheless.

“I swear to god, as if tonight couldn’t get any wo-”

The sudden thunder of pounding on your front door almost sent you into another panic until you heard the voice.

“Y/N? Are you okay in there?”

Captain Price. Groaning in relief, you managed to force yourself up to your feet and hobbled over to the door, sliding open the top lock and deadbolt before yanking it open. Jesus, the man seemed even bigger in the dark, his shadowed form dominating the doorway with ease.

“Hey, Price,” you huffed lamely, barely able to make out his face in the dim backup lighting from the hallway.

He moved as if to reach out for you but then suddenly pulled away as if he thought better of it, hands resting on his hips as he looked over you.

“I was comin’ to check on you and the little one when I heard you yell, you alright?” he asked, voice as uncertain as you felt.

“Mm, define alright,” you joked softly, gesturing down to your leg as you flashed your phone light onto the wound, “I panicked when the power went out, and I was going for the candles when I… well, I tripped.”

It sounded much stupider when you said it out loud, you realized. Way to embarrass yourself in front of the hottest guy alive, self. He cleared his throat and you quickly turned off the phone in mortification when you realized how much skin you were showing, almost scandalous having been dressed down into a tiny little pajama set for a quiet night alone.

“I- I see,” he muttered quietly, “Do you need help cleanin’ that up?”

Your head nearly spun with whiplash as suggestive thoughts raced through your brain but you managed a little shrug after a moment.

“If you don’t mind, sure, I wouldn’t be opposed to the company anyway. I hate the dark,” you admitted softly.

Thankfully, he didn’t comment on your childish fear, just followed you in and shut the door behind him. You were about to run to the bathroom to grab the first aid kit when his hands were suddenly on your sides, steering you to the kitchen island stool with the firm instruction to ‘sit and relax’.

“I’ll grab the bandages. Where do you keep them?” he asked once you sat.

Cheeks warming, you drew your legs up into the seat and rested your cheek on your knee, wrapping around yourself for protection against the sudden onslaught of lust rocketing through your body. While you logically knew he had to be commanding for his career in the military, hearing that authoritarian tone directed your way was nothing less than arousing.

“First aid kit is in the bathroom, cabinet above the toilet,” you explained, hoping your voice didn’t betray your inner panic.

He stalked off without another word and you immediately wished you could see his form better. The man had an ass that made your knees weak. You were ashamed to think about how often you’d taken sneak peeks as he walked away, or how often you’d pictured riding one of his thick thighs until-

“You said you have candles?”

“Fuck!”

You nearly fell out of your chair as you flinched in reaction to the sudden addition of his voice to your not-so-innocent thoughts of said man. It was obvious he was trying not to let his amusement show but you caught the way his shoulders shook in laughter as he set the kit on the island next to you.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you,” he apologized kindly, “Candles?”

Embarrassed and frustrated beyond belief, you told him exactly where the candles were before dragging your wine glass over, hoping to drink away the awkwardness and lust making a home in your stomach. In the time it took him to get back to the island, you had finished your second glass of wine and began to pour a third. You were gonna need all the liquid courage you could get if you were going to survive being alone with him in close quarters for the first time ever. He lit the candles and set them evenly across the island's top, the flames highlighting and shadowing his handsome face in flickering light.

“Alright, let’s see that cut,” he sighed, taking a seat across from you.

A wave of gratefulness swelled in your chest as you realized you had shaved yesterday. No hairy legs to make things worse. That was one point in your favor. Allowing him to take your leg into his hands, you watched intently as he rested your calf against his thigh, fingers tracing gently around the edge of the gash with a sigh.

“Got yourself good, didn’t ya? Good news is you won’t need stitches,” he explained.

“That’s a relief.”

Honestly, you hadn’t even thought about the possibility of stitches. Your lip ached under the pressure of your teeth as you gnawed on the plump flesh in an attempt to calm the blood pounding through your veins. Sure, it wasn’t under the best circumstances, but you’d longed to feel those very fingers on you for months now- and here he was, touching your bare legs, in a dark room lit up romantically by candlelight, staring at you as if… wait, why was he staring?! His lips moved and you belatedly realized he’d been talking to you while you zoned out thinking about all the ways you wanted him to fuck you seven ways from Sunday.

“Sorry, what?” you asked bluntly, a weak smile curling up your lips.

“I said this might sting,” he repeated with a little chuckle, “Just how many glasses of wine have you had there, darlin’?”

Heat lit up your cheeks as you gave a little shrug in response.

“I just started on number three; I’m not drunk,” you assured him.

“Mmhmm.”

He lifted an eyebrow to express his obvious disagreement and, before you could stop it, you poked your tongue out at him teasingly. There was a sudden pause as if the world stilled when his eyes met yours, and you instinctively pulled your tongue back in as something dark passed through his eyes.

“Better watch that tongue now, love,” he rumbled softly.

Fuck, letting him in had definitely been a bad decision. Between the wine circulating in your system, your fear of the dark, and the intimacy of his skin against yours, you were undoubtedly going to make a stupid mistake. Oh but how you wanted to.

Nibbling on your lower lip, you shifted in your seat to allow him to angle your leg up more and quickly quipped, “Or what, sir?”

The way he fumbled the little alcohol packet would have been hilarious if it weren’t for the intense look he pinned you with after. Your laughter died on your lips before it could even exit. It was hard to tell exactly what he was thinking in the dim candlelight but, with the way he was slowly stroking your calf muscle almost subconsciously, you hoped it was good. The silence was deafening. While he wasn’t more than five or ten years older than you, you suddenly felt much younger, much smaller beneath his gaze. Was this his disappointed captain look? Had you actually upset him?

“Uh, s-sorry, sir,” you whispered softly.

He let out a low sigh before suddenly leaning forward, fingers gently touching your chin while his thumb pried your lip free from your teeth.

“I need you to stop bitin’ your lip like that,” he demanded.

It felt like your heart was going to beat out of your chest, your head swimming on cloud nine, and your skin sparking at every point his body touched yours. You barely managed a little hum of agreement when he tapped your chin softly, obviously expecting an answer. Fuck what you wouldn’t give to kiss him right now.

“Good girl, now, sit back and let me fix you up.”

Every fiber of your being felt on fire and it took all of your might not to moan at that panty-wetting line. He had to know what he was doing, right? Nobody was unintentionally that sexy. Nobody. Swallowing hard, you nodded once and did as told, letting your hands rest on your lap as he cleaned and bandaged up the wound. It was funny. You had almost expected him to have a heavy hand, between his size and his career, but he was nothing short of tender. Almost as if he was afraid he would hurt you.

“There, all done,” he murmured, gently patting your foot but not removing it from his lap, “Does it still hurt?”

Shaking your head quickly, you picked up the mostly empty wine bottle and tilted it his way. There was maybe one glass worth left.

“Drink?” you offered meekly, “As payment for patching me up?”

He was obviously hesitant but finally took it after you shook the bottle insistently at him.

“Yeah! Don’t leave me to drink alone like the fool I am,” you chuckled with a grin, “Glad to see you’re back home safe, by the way.”

“In the nick of time too, it seems,” he hummed warmly.

You nodded in agreement, letting your body relax against the low back of the chair as you sipped on your drink and not-so-subtly eyefucked him. He was dressed down more than usual, neither in his fatigues nor usual casual clothes. And yet somehow he was still the most delectable man you’d ever seen, in his tight black henley and sporty grey sweatpants; maybe even more so than usual. He looked almost approachable like that. You had to wonder if he knew the internet’s obsession with those pants or the reason why. His own ‘physique’ wasn’t lost in your appreciation of how well they fit his massive thighs.

“Where’s kiddo?” he asked suddenly.

It took you a second to understand what he had asked, leaving you to blink owlishly in confusion until it finally registered and a relaxed smile crossed your face.

“My parents took her with them to their beach house this weekend, something about an early birthday gift for her and wanting to give me a “break”,” you snorted, remembering your mom’s exact reasoning.

Lifting your hands into the air, you made air quotes as you mimicked her high-pitched voice.

“Go see one of those young men who keep asking you out at work”, you squeaked before letting out a fake laugh, “As if I’d do that.”

“Why’s that?”

Rolling your eyes, you immediately retorted, “Well, one, I don’t date customers. Sets a bad example for the next guy that wants in my pants. And two, I dunno… I guess I just have a specific type. Besides, there’s only one man I want right now and, well, I’m certain he doesn’t exactly feel the same way.”

A deep warmth crossed your face down your neck, leaving you overheated as you looked over said man lustfully. Hopefully, you weren’t too obvious but, fuck, maybe if you were you’d get an answer. Was chancing your friendship, his connection with Emma, worth the one percent chance he’d fuck you? No, you decided with a frown, it really wasn’t.

Price snorted, took a drink of the wine, and muttered, “Well, that’s just stupid. Either he’s blind or you just don’t know he’s interested.”

“Yeah right, Captain. I’m a single divorced mom. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but we’re not exactly a hot commodity these days. Plus, I’m chubby and out of shape, and he’s like the epitome of godlike,” your words trailed off slowly as you let your eyes run down and up his body pointedly, “Guys like him don’t go for ladies like me, as much as I’m selfish and wish he would.”

The sigh he let out made your heart flutter. God, what would that deep rumble sound like in bed, or was he a quiet one? You hoped he wasn’t. His voice was the epitome of sexual energy and you’d want to hear him talking you through every second.

“It’s John, and you’re blind,” he retorted blandly, earning a confused look from you.

“What do you mean? About myself? No, I’m pretty sure-”

“Oh, fuck it!”

Suddenly your leg was tossed aside when he jumped to his feet, pushing to stand between your thighs as he gripped them tight and dragged you to the edge of the chair until he was slotted perfectly against the apex of your thighs. One hand moved to cup your face and dragged you into a soft kiss, his other digging tight into the plush of your hip.

All you could do was blink in awe. Was- Was this real? Had you passed out when you fell? There was no way Price was kissing you right now.

He pulled back as if he’d been stung and let out a curse.

“Shit, did I misread that?” he asked, brows furrowed in worry.

Eyes wide and mouth parted, you hesitantly reached up and covered his hand with yours, taking in the sensation of his skin against yours.

“Did- Did you just kiss me or am I dreaming?” you asked weakly.

Relief filled his face and you watched as he broke into laughter, shoulders bouncing with the motion as he leaned in again until your eyes could barely focus on his.

“Yes, I kissed you, is that alright, love?”

“More than alright,” you whispered.

This time you were able to react, disbelief thrown to the side to make room for desire. Hands resting gently against his cheeks, you stroked your thumbs along the oddly soft hairs and shivered in excitement. He was gentle and sweet, both everything you’d expected and yet somehow not nearly as rough. You’d always questioned what kind of lover he was, seeing as he was someone with a heart of gold in one of the most dangerous fields of work.

Your thoughts were brought back to the moment when you felt his lips part against yours. Without a second thought, you leaned up and sunk your teeth into his plump lower lip, nearly moaning at the groan he let out in reply. The hand that had been idle on your face wrapped around the nape of your neck and squeezed tight until you released your hold.

“You’re gonna be trouble, aren’t you?” he breathed out huskily, eyes searching your face hungrily.

“No trouble at all,” you replied cheekily.

“Hmm, we’ll see about that,” he scoffed, “Just remember, brats don’t get what they want, aye?”

You could practically feel your body humming and your eyes dilated as you took in a shaky breath.

“I- I won’t be a brat,” you whispered back, comically quiet in the silent room.

“Good girl.”

That was the second time he’d used those words against you. There was definitely more to Price than you’d expected and, god, you wanted to explore it all, but at another time. Right now, the way he praised you felt sweeter than cotton candy on your tongue and you craved that more than breath itself. The saccharine tenderness of his words was replaced with the smoky taste of tobacco and sharp notes of your red wine when his mouth met yours once more.

A little whine escaped your mouth into his when he drew back just enough to bite your lip and sucked softly on the tender flesh. When he finally pulled away, you could only stare at him with adoration.

“You have to stop lookin’ at me like that, princess,” he groaned.

Oh. Oh, that nickname. Fuck, this man was ticking off all your secret kinks without even knowing it.

“Forgive me if I’m a little starstruck,” you replied with a nervous giggle, nails scraping gently along his jaw, “I’ve only been thinking about this for months.”

“Months, huh?” he asked, leveling you with a deadly smirk.

You let out a little breath and nodded, explaining, “Ever since the first time I saw you, even before I knew what a sweetheart you were, all I could imagine was how good it’d feel if you’d pin me up against the wall in the elevator or-”

His groan silenced you immediately, your lips hanging open as you watched entranced by the way his head tipped back.

“Come on, up we go,” he purred suddenly, fingers sliding down to grab your ass.

You instinctively clung to him with a cry of shock when he lifted you from the chair onto his waist, eyes wide as you met his gaze.

“John! Don’t, I’m heav-”

“Princess, I train with men twice your size every day,” he cut you off smoothly, “Believe me when I say your weight is nothin’. Besides, what’s the point in having muscles if not to carry around beautiful women, hmm?”

Warmth flooded your cheeks and you buried your face in his neck, unable to meet his eyes as he said such sweet things. True to his word, he was able to carry you from the kitchen all the way into your bedroom without breaking a sweat. The instant your knees met the bed, he was on you again, lips gently kissing down the soft column of your throat. When he reached the thickest part of the muscle connecting your neck and shoulder, his teeth dug in hard, his lips sucking your sensitive flesh taut until you were nearly clawing at him, afraid he would break the skin. He pulled back with a pop and you deflated against him, whimpering his name breathlessly.

It felt good, really fucking good, but you needed more. Slipping your hands beneath his shirt, you rested your palms against his abdomen and drew the fabric up as you soaked in the feeling of raw power under your fingers.

“Shirt off,” you managed to huff through whimpers, “Please.”

Price jerked back hastily and tore the shirt off, giving you an unintentional but lovely show as he threw it aside. He wasn’t built as in a super compact six-pack, but he was broad, solid, the defining lines of his core muscles showing with each sharp intake of breath. You let your fingers trace over each dip of his obliques, up to his toned shoulders and then back down to rest against the thicket of hair covering his tense pecs as you eyed every inch of bare skin. This man was, undeniably, a fucking god.

Eyes flickering up to meet his, you flashed him a small smile as you leaned forward, copying his previous motions on your neck against his. His low rumble vibrated deliciously against your lips as you made your way down his neck, stopping against his shoulder to suck on the tender flesh and leave a love bite that surely matched the one on you.

He startled a squeak out of you when his hand suddenly came into contact with your ass, the smack loud and sharp in the air.

“I thought you weren’t goin’ to be a brat,” he asked teasingly.

You shot him a pout and replied, “I wasn’t. It’s only fair that I get to leave marks on you if you’re going to leave them on me.”

Lifting a brow, he smirked and shook his head.

“As long as you leave them out of sight,” he compromised after a moment of thought, “Gotta have some kind of professionalism at work.”

At that, your eyes widened and shame lit up your cheeks. You hadn’t thought about that at all. While your hickies could be covered up with makeup, it’s not like you’d really get in trouble for having them at work, but as a soldier- a captain no less- you could only imagine what rules they had there.

“Fuck, I’m so sorry, I didn’t think about that! You won’t get in trou-”

“Shh, shh, princess, it’s fine,” he assured you quickly, drawing you up into a gentle kiss, “My shirt’ll cover it.”

“You’re sure?” you asked meekly.

“I promise, you’re fine.”

With one last kiss, he released your face and you went back to your previous task. Now, though, you made sure to keep any biting to areas that would be covered by his clothes. There were little scars scattered across his skin, little reminders that he had been hurt so many times before, and each one made your heart clench with the need to kiss them away. It wasn’t until you reached the drawstring of his sweats that he finally stopped you and pulled you back up.

“Hey,” you groaned in frustration.

“Uh-uh. Don’t pout at me. What do you want, darlin’? I need you to tell me,” he muttered, breath catching in his throat as you slid your fingers across his waistband.

“I want to taste you finally,” you replied, “I’ve dreamed about it for so long.”

His moan would have made you collapse against the bed if he weren’t holding onto your hips so tightly. Fuck, you knew he’d sound good like that.

“First, this shirt comes off,” he replied, fingers hooking under your tank top.

Lifting your arms, you let him tear the fabric away and were rewarded with a guttural moan when his gaze found your bare breasts. You weren’t even given the chance to put your arms back down before he was knelt on the bed, arm hooked around your back to drag you forward with a growl as he pressed open-mouthed kisses against your chest.

“Ah, fuck!” you gasped weakly, fingers sinking into his short hair for support.

“You- are- bloody- gorgeous,” he hissed out between wet kisses, “How you think I could ever resist you baffles me.”

Any embarrassment you would have felt from his comment was washed away the instant his mouth was on your nipple, fingers mimicking the motion on the other one. Each stroke of his tongue across your sensitive bud felt directly connected to your clit. Within moments, you felt both on the brink of orgasm and yet leagues away, your breaths coming out hot and heavy as you pulled him closer still.

“John, please,” you whined, free hand tugging at his pants symbolically.

He grunted, giving a slight shake of his head as he latched onto your breast with fervor, sucking so hard you felt dizzy with need. When he finally pulled back, you almost fell back.

“Head off the end of the bed then, love,” he instructed gently.

It took you a second to organize your thoughts but you finally nodded as he walked around to the end. Laying on your back, you quickly scooted farther down the mattress until your head fell off and you were left face-to-face with his bulge in those damned grey sweats. Oh, what a sight that was. You’d take a picture if you could.

Lifting up just enough to meet his gaze, you hesitantly reached for his pants and asked, “Can I?”

“Go ahead.”

Twisting your hands, you dragged your nails softly down the plains of his abdomen, enjoying the way his muscles clenched against your fingers before you grabbed the waistband and tugged it down. You instinctively froze with an audible gasp as you watched his cock slap against his belly, the tip resting right below his navel. While you could tell he was big through his clothes, you’d underestimated just how big. And fuck was he beautiful, thick and veiny and delectable.

“Jesus fucking Christ, John,” you bit out in disbelief with a laugh, “This is supposed to fit in me?”

Allowing one hand to keep tugging his sweats down, the other came up to wrap around his base. Despite never having been with a man quite as big as him, you knew you could do it, but you also understood it was going to take some getting used to. One wrong move and you’d be in pain for days after.

“Don’t worry, princess, we’ll make it fit,” he purred warmly.

A muted curse left your lips as your core clenched in need. This man was going to be the death of you. Wiggling so your neck was better supported by the edge of the bed, you used your hold on his dick to lead him forward, parting your lips invitingly the moment he was close enough. His taste was overwhelming when he finally pushed between your lips. A hungry moan escaped before you could stop it and your fingers dug into his thighs, urging him forward.

He slowly inched closer, pulling out and sliding back in with each step until he was able to lean over your body, one hand resting beside you on the bed to balance himself while the other busied itself plucking at your nipples. It was hard to take at first, your anxiety telling you that you wouldn’t be able to actually handle his full size, but you breathed through it all and focused on keeping your muscles relaxed.

“Fuck, look at you,” he sighed, scratching his short nails down your stomach, “You’re absolutely stunnin’, love.”

You flinched in surprise when his fingers slipped beneath your shorts but the shock was cut short by rampant desire as he slid his digits along your slit with a groan. The motion flexed his hips forward and buried him further into your mouth, head pressing uncomfortably against your throat.

“Can you take more, darlin’?” he asked softly.

Humming out positively, you quickly swallowed before craning your neck back farther, hoping to open yourself more.

“That’s my girl, relax your throat for me. Tap me if it gets to be too much.”

After letting you take in a deep breath, he began to push deeper. Almost instantly you felt tears flood your eyes. It took every bit of your resolve not to give into the desperate need to gag around him as he pushed in slowly, but you held strong. You’d give everything you could to this man and you wouldn’t complain for a single second.

“Fuck!”

He jerked back suddenly and thrust in just as quickly, then again, until he got comfortable with fucking your mouth. Pressing your tongue against his cock, you were easily lost in the motions, reminding yourself to suck in a breath every other thrust when you could; so lost that you practically jumped into the air when you felt his fingers start moving against your clit. Your entire body melted into the mattress as you gave over to primal desires, brain too full of cotton to do more than allow you to just feel.

“So fuckin’ wet for me, love,” he groaned quietly, “I can’t wait to see how wet you get when I make you come.”

The moan you let out was garbled by his cock but it made him groan your name in return, his hips stuttering in their pace. You nearly whined at the loss of his hand in your shorts but then it was over your neck, wet fingers wrapping around your throat and pressing against the sides as he thrust in as far as possible and held there. You couldn’t breathe, and yet you found you weren’t scared.

“God, look at that. I can see your throat bulgin’ around my cock. I can fuckin’ feel it when I press right here. What a pretty fuckin’ sight you make.”

A broken whine fell from your lips when he pulled back suddenly, leaving your blurry eyes staring at his erection wantingly until he took your hands and guided you up. You were barely upright before his mouth crashed against yours, biting, brutal, and perfect.

“John, please,” you whimpered against his lips, nails finding a home in his arms as you tried to pull him onto the bed.

“I already told you, you need to use your words, princess,” he reminded you firmly.

Wiping away the few tears that had fallen, you nodded and said, “I want you to fuck me, please.”

The smirk that curved up his lips made your heart thump.

“I will, I promise, but not before I have those beautiful thighs wrapped around my head,” he retorted, “Lay down.”

Apparently, you took too long to move in your shock because the next thing you knew, you were shoved back onto the bed. A giggle escaped quietly as you situated the pillow beneath your head but you went silent as you caught the beautiful sight of an entirely naked Captain John Price scaling up the bed over you. Who the fuck gave him the right to be so goddamn gorgeous? He snagged your shorts and tore them off, tossing them away without a second thought before he leaned down over you.

“You and those eyes, darlin’,” he sighed softly, lips pressing softly on your sternum.

“What do you mean?” you asked.

A sharp gasp caught your breath when he turned his head and rubbed his beard against your sensitive skin, teasing across your flesh until he took your hardening peak between his lips, his eyes never leaving yours.

When he released you, there was a twinkle in his gaze.

“I used to tell myself I was just seein’ things, but now, now I know,” he murmured, beard trailing across the expanse of your chest until his mouth was hoving over your other nipple, “You’re eyes are so damn beautiful, so expressive. I can see every thought goin’ on behind them and it drives me crazy.”

You licked your lips nervously and asked, “That’s good, right?”

His response came in the form of a growl as his teeth sunk into your breast, tearing a squeal from your chest as you instinctively arched into his touch.

“Very good. I like seein’ what I do to you.”

Butterflies twitched up a storm in your belly as he slowly kissed down your abdomen, taking care to plant his lips on every little spot, even those you hated. When he lifted your legs up onto his shoulder, you couldn’t help the little whimper you let out, feeling beyond exposed to him, a little overwhelmed by the intimacy. It had been years since you’d been with anyone, since even before your ex-husband had left you and Emma, and now you were here with the sexiest man you’d ever laid eyes on lying between your legs, practically salivating at the chance to eat you out when the man you’d been married to couldn’t even be bothered to do more than stick his dick in. What a fucking upgrade.

“Don’t be quiet, love, I want to hear ya,” he ordered lowly, lips trailing up the inside of your right thigh, “Is that understood?”

“Yes sir,” you whispered back, grinning as you saw the reaction clear in his eyes.

“Good girl.”

He moved slow, so slow that you want to whine and beg him to move faster, but the tingle of his beard and teeth against your skin felt too good. When he finally kissed down your mound and his lips brushed against your slit, you couldn’t hold back a moan.

“That’a girl,” he hummed.

His arms hooked around your legs, pinning them open as one hand dipped to part your lips and his tongue immediately went to the place you craved it most. Instinctively your legs fought to close against the sudden tendrils of pleasure but he easily held them in place.

“Uh-uh, this is mine,” he growled, punctuating his words with a little nibble against your clit.

“Fuck!” you gasped.

Your fingers clung to the sheets for some semblance of restraint as your eyes rolled back and a low moan crawled from your throat. With slow, heavy motions, he lapped at your clit, teasing you up the precipice at a pace that made you delirious for more. Gradually the leisurely licks turned into more precise, quick strokes and you lost your ability to stay silent.

“Please, please more,” you whimpered.

His moan was loud in the quiet room and the heated cadence twisted the knot in your core tighter.

“More what?” he asked huskily.

Though his tongue was no longer at work, he didn’t stop teasing you, letting his fingertips rub your clit oh so gently as he kissed up the inside of your thigh.

“Hmm, princess? Tell me exactly what you want,” he encouraged.

Brows furrowing, you whimpered and battled through the sensations long enough to reply.

“I want you in me,” you gasped.

He chuckled and gave a gentle bite into the meat of your thigh before saying, “I need more to go on. Use your words, little one. What part of me do you want inside of you?”

You slapped a hand over your face in mortification and bit out, “I want your dick in me! Please fuck me!”

“Oh baby, I told you. Not until I’m done with you. You’re going to come undone on my tongue first, then I’ll gladly fuck you.”

Was this man hand-crafted by the gods specifically to give you a heart attack? How did he manage to roll up dominance and sweetness so perfectly? Your thoughts spun out of control when John brought your attention back to him, removing his hold on one of your legs with a little smack to your hip.

“My fingers will have to do for now,” he purred.

Even warned, the breach of his fingers into your cunt set off a miniature explosion. Your walls clamped down tight without thought and your legs shook in restraint as the blissful ecstasy edged rapidly closer. When he added his tongue back into the mix, your brain shut off entirely. Curses and whimpers of desperation filled the air as your nails scrambled for purchase against your breasts.

“Jo-John, fuck yes, please- I-”

“That’s it, love, come for daddy.”

Those words beautifully timed with the flicking of his tongue finally sent you over the edge with a scream. Ecstasy erupted in your core, shocks of pleasure vibrating through your body as he worked you endlessly through it. You instinctively tried to push him away but he snagged your wrist tight, pinning it down against your stomach as he held your hips down against the bed, not giving you even an inch as you thrashed in his hold.

“J-John,l fuckohmygod!”

It was too much, burning and hot and so fucking good. His tongue continued to swirl and dance as he deepened the curl of his fingers with a hungry groan. Before you could stop it, you felt a familiar, debauched pleasure release within. With a cry of shock, you thrashed under him with guilt and indulgence as he pushed you into that rarely achieved euphoria that painted your thighs and his face with slick. It wasn’t until you were frantically jerking at your bonds and begging him through tears, nearly collapsing in on yourself under the stimulation, that he finally drew away with an animalistic growl.

All you could do was lay there, panting and whimpering, and try not to cry like a baby. Never had anyone been able to make you come like that.

“Hey, look at me, princess,” John cooed softly.

You could feel him crawling over you again, his body radiating heat across your rapidly cooling skin, and you instinctively smiled softly at the comfort he brought.

“Love, let me see those beautiful eyes, hmm?” he urged, hand gently stroking your cheek.

After another second or two, you managed to flutter your eyelids open only to find him with worry in his gaze. It was unbearably endearing until you realized just how wet his facial hair was and your cheeks burned hot.

“S-Sorry,” you whispered, reaching up to get rid of the evidence.

John chuckled when he caught your hand before you got anywhere near him, slamming it to the bed beside your head as he leaned in and caught your lips in a soft kiss.

“Don’t ever apologize for enjoying yourself, darlin’,” he replied warmly, “If I didn’t like it, I wouldn’t do it. Fuck, I could live off that sweet little cunt, princess. And the way you say my name? God.”

It felt so weird to hear such good things about yourself and it made you want to shrink away but he was having none of that.

“I need to know if you want to continue. If you want to stop, just say-”

“No! I- I want more,” you cut him off quickly, legs wrapping loosely around his hips, “Please.”

Gone was the worry, replaced by wanton lust as a smirk filled his lips.

“You sure?”

Swallowing hard, you nibbled on your lower lip and whispered, “Please… daddy.”

If you didn't know better, you’d have thought you’d slapped him by the groan he let out, his hips subconsciously grinding against your cunt.

“Oh, uh, it might be a little late but… I’m am clean and I’m on birth control,” you added meekly, shuddering under the heat in his gaze, “I- I got tested after Daz cheated and I haven’t been with anyone since then so… It’s- It’s safe if… I just don’t have condoms so…”

You let your voice trail off awkwardly, his silence worrying you until he let out a low sigh. He stretched forward and pressed his lips to your forehead gently as he murmured your name.

“You’re gonna kill me, you know that?” he murmured, then asked again, “You’re sure?”

“Completely, please, fuck me,” you assured him.

He moaned softly before lifting back up onto his hands, staring down at you with pure unadulterated passion and desire.

“You said it’s been a while, aye?”

When you nodded, he suddenly slipped off to the side, grabbing your hands before you could complain about the loss and drawing you up onto your knees.

“Come, sit on my lap, we’re gonna do it like this so you can control how fast we go,” he explained as he patted his thighs, “Stretched you out a bit but the last thing I wanna do is hurt you, darlin’.”

The thought of sitting on him was less than ideal but you gave into him at his gentle insistence. With his help, you crawled onto his lap, hovering with his cock just against your lips.

“Have you done it this way before?” he asked.

“No, I don’t think so,” you replied shyly.

“Alright, so you’ll start like this, it’ll let you control how deep we go until you’re comfortable, and then once you’re ready, I’ll help you put your legs behind me.”

Your lips quirked up at the mental image and you couldn’t help but giggle.

“I know, it sounds silly, but I promise, it’ll be best for you,” he explained with a boyish grin, “And plus, it’ll let me see your beautiful face and these gorgeous tits.”

With a little nod, you carefully widened your kneeling stance and took hold of his cock, guiding him to your entrance. Just feeling his head against you was enough to light that fire in your core again.

“Oh fuck,” you whimpered as you lowered your hips.

Your nails were sure to leave marks on his shoulders as you held on for deal life, relishing in the burning stretch of your walls accommodating his size. He didn’t seem to be faring much better if the hiss he let out was any indication.

“There you go, slow and steady, princess,” he purred encouragingly, hands resting on your hips to help guide you.

With a surge of confidence, you silenced him with the sudden drop of your hips, groaning when it felt like the air had been knocked out of you. His name came out as a prayer as you wiggled your hips, impatiently trying to get him in inch by inch. It was a good thing you were soaking wet because otherwise, you wouldn’t wanna think about how hard it’d be to get even that far. After a moment, it felt like too much and you had to pause, taking in deep steadying breaths.

“I know, princess, I know. But you’re taking it so fuckin’ well,” John groaned, “Just take your time. There’s no rush, baby.”

Baby. Fuck. Out of all the names, that one felt the most intimate for some reason. It made your toes curl and pushed you past the hump, giving you the power to keep going. Mama didn’t raise no quitter, as the saying goes. A grin crawled across your lips at the look of pure devastation and pleasure that crossed his face when you finally wiggled again. His head fell back and a devilish growl escaped his clenched teeth. Fingers clawed at your plush bottom and held you in place as you teasingly swayed your hips. It was clear you were more than ready before he was, which you’d take as a massive compliment.

“You feel so fucking good, daddy,” you murmured, grabbing one hand and bringing it to your mouth.

Those beautiful crystal blue eyes had barely met yours before you sucked his thumb between your lips and clenched your core tight.

“Fuck!!” he hissed, thighs jumping under yours, “You- God!”

Swirling your tongue around his thumb and sucking on it like a lollipop, you let your hips settle down further, burying him deliciously deeper in your core until there was no more space between you. Your eyelids fluttered shut against the sudden surge of pleasure igniting in your belly, trying to fight it back. You wanted to focus on him. It was just so hard when he filled you to the absolute maximum that your body could handle. Once you didn’t feel so close to the edge, you rocked your hips left and right and back and forth, watching his face closely and soaking up the unrivaled lust that showed.

“Come here, balance on me, and let’s swing this leg out,” he said hoarsely.

With his instruction, you were able to sit with your legs crisscrossed behind his back and it only pushed him that much further into your cunt, your walls greedily sucking in every inch. The moment you were stable, he was quick to advance on the opportunity, free hand palming your back and jerking you toward him with a hungry moan. Before you could react, he had you melting in the palm of his hands, lips hungrily sucking at your left breast while his fingers plucked the right. All your fight, your will to do this entirely on your own, flitted away slowly with each stroke.

When you finally started moving again, you almost came immediately, a panicked gasp catching in your chest at the way your clit rubbed against his pubis. His warm chuckle barely filtered through your haze until his fingers snarled in the hair at the base of your neck and he jerked you into an achingly sweet kiss, his other arm wrapping around your back.

“That’s it, beautiful, just like that,” he cooed gently.

Of all the fantasies you’d had about John, nothing had ever quite stood up to this. There was something more to this than just raw, animalistic sex and it made your heart beat just a little bit harder.

Every rock of your hips was aided by him, drawing you that much closer and easing the strain on your legs. Soft praises spilled from his lips, encouraging little moans telling you how good you felt, how beautiful you were, how he wanted to stay like that forever. It was almost enough to make you cry but the ever-growing pressure in your core kept your senses on high, making your brain focus more on the pleasure than the intimacy you didn’t know you craved from the big man. Your forehead pressed gently against his as your eyes rolled back and you clawed at his shoulders. There was so much to take in, the passion and emotion both physical and mental, and you were starting to lose grip on all facets of control. Thankfully, he seemed to match your sentiment, hands suddenly pulling you to a halt as he let out a groan.

“I want you on hands and knees,” he demanded gruffly, “Can you do that?”

Nodding hastily, you carefully untangled yourself from him and grabbed a pillow, shoving it beneath your hips to help keep you at the perfect angle.

“Tell me you want this,” he demanded gravelly with a sharp smack to your ass.

With a whimper, you wiggled your hips at him and gasped, “I want you in me. Fuck me, please!”

He lined his cock up and immediately slammed in with a heady groan, all sense of worry and compassion gone. Your nails tore into the sheets as he stretched through your walls without hesitation. It was so much at once. That other position had truly babied you against his size. Now, now you were feeling every single fucking inch. Your body instinctively fought against the depths he reached but, mentally, you wanted nothing more than to keep him there for the rest of all time.

“Fuck, oh my god, it’s- mmm- s’too much!”

“Relax, little one. I know it’s a lot,” he purred, hands stroking along your back lovingly.

“Mmmm, yesss. Hurts so good,” you whimpered mindlessly.

“Yeah, but you can take it; can’t you, princess?” he groaned as he started to rock his hips.

Those dirty words were spoken in such a sweet, soothing tone that it made your heart do backflips, a seductive check-in on your mental state and willingness. You nodded against the mattress with a little moan.

“I can- Fuck, I can handle it,” you cried, “Take me, use me.”

He let out a rumbling moan and leaned forward, fingers snarling in your hair and yanking back with a sigh.

“That’s right. This tight little pussy takes me so damn well. Gonna fuck you and make you come so hard you can’t walk afterward,” he snarled.

You felt like a marionette doll, bent and twisted to his desires, and it felt so fucking satisfying. Every stroke of his cock did unbelievable things to that bundle of nerves deep in your core, and as he moved faster, you could feel your climax taking hold.

“Yeahhh, I can feel you tightenin’ love. You feel so fuckin’ good,” he groaned, “That’s it, be a good girl and come for daddy now.”

All at once everything coalesced and your vision went black as your world slammed down around you. As he fucked you from one climax right into the next, you felt the tears you’d been fighting finally fall, streaming down your cheeks under the paralyzing rapture. It felt like it was never-ending but then he pulled out, leaving you a babbling mess.

“Wha-”

Your question was cut off as he grabbed your hips and tossed you over onto your back. The instant you were facing him, he lifted you up and you were quick to wrap your legs around his hips for balance, one hand on the bed and the other hooked around his neck. As he ducked down, you welcomed his kiss as if it were life-saving.

No words were spoken beyond grunts and moans of euphoria but there was no denying the conversation flowing between your bodies. Overwhelming and heart-pounding, desire filled your veins and urged you forward to nibble at his throat.

“Come with me, John, please.”

The cry that left his lips as you bit into his neck was devastating and immediately he buried himself as far as possible into you, sending you over once more as his hips shuddered against yours. You thought mindlessly about how there was no better sensation in the world than the twitching of his cock when he came inside you as you trailed your tongue up his neck with a moan. It was the most primal, instinctive claim one could ever have over another.

“Jesus,” he sighed shakily.

You managed a little whimper of agreement as he slowly pulled out. As soon as he moved back, you collapsed onto the bed with a whine.

“Are you okay?” he asked, voice somewhere between amused and actually worried.

You flashed him a thumbs-up and caught his gaze with a loopy smile. His answering smirk made your body react and a groan escaped again.

“Stop being so sexy. It almost hurts,” you whined.

Laughter filled the room joyously as he plopped down onto the bed next to you. As he drew you in closer, one hand found yours and brought it to his lips. Eyes fluttering open, a rush of embarrassment flooded your cheeks as you realized how intently he was watching you.

“What?” you asked curiously.

“Just admirnin’ you, darlin’,” he replied easily, “You sure you’re okay?”

A hum of agreement left your lips before you flipped your hand over and laced your fingers between his. You weren’t certain where this put the two of you, but it certainly seemed like more than a one-night stand. You hoped.

“When does Emma get back?” he asked.

You thought about it for a moment before replying, “Should be back Sunday night, why?”

He drew your hand to his mouth once more, this time pressing little kisses to each fingertip.

“Unless you’ve got other things to do, how would you feel about me staying tonight and I can make us breakfast in the morning?”

You bit your lower lip in hopes of containing some of the surely stupid joy rolling off of you in waved as you gave a little nod. He smiled back warmly but there was a look of uncertainty that passed through his gaze as his other hand sunk into your hair, drawing goosebumps across your skin as he played with the strands.

“And then, if you can put up with me for long enough, I want to take you and the munchkin out for dinner Sunday night. How’s that sound?”

At that, you could no longer contain your excitement. Rolling to face him, you leaned up and caught his mouth in a sweet kiss, trying to convey just how happy that idea made you.

“I’d love to, and I know Emma would be ecstatic. She really adores you,” you admitted warmly.

“Good, now, we’ve got plenty of time until morning and the electricity isn’t even back on yet,” he murmured deviously, fingers tauntingly sliding down your stomach to your thighs, “What say we work on conquering your hatred of the dark, aye?”

#captain price x reader #captain price smut #cod fanfic #cod smut #captain john price

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a-kaash-me-outside · 2 years ago

Text

the walls are thin - ch5

in which atsumu is your college neighbor with whom you share a wall. previous | ch5 | next [masterlist]

// overly attentive and completely different than you ever expected him to be ~ ᴀᴛsᴜᴍᴜ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ~ 7955 ᴡᴏʀᴅs

a look into this chapter: oops, 18+ minors dni eventual smut, masturbation, incessant flirting (as always), msby besties, oh we're doing this already?, feelings are confusing but developing, drinking, frustrating a bit sorry abt that, she/her pronouns

send an ask and i’ll add ya to the taglist! ~ ♡ ʀᴇʙʟᴏɢs ᴀɴᴅ ɪɴᴛᴇʀᴀᴄᴛɪᴏɴs ᴍᴇᴀɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴏʀʟᴅ ♡

“i miss you,” he complains. you’d think you’d have gotten used to that phrase coming out of his mouth by now, but you can still feel your skin tingle. you roll your eyes nonetheless.

“it’s not even been a full day,” you retort.

he mulls over this for a minute before deciding that you’re wrong, “not true.”

“i think it is,” you say, “but even if it has been a full day, that’s kinda…,” you trail off, “pathetic?”

he laughs, the pang in your heart telling you that maybe it isn’t so pathetic to miss somebody after not seeing them for a few tens of hours. you smile at him, eyes moving away from his gaze after just a few seconds.

“i miss you too, maki,” you reciprocate.

“not so pathetic after all,” he points at you through the phone.

you purse your lips to the side, thoughtful, “no, still pathetic i think, just from both sides.”

“yea, fair,” he says, flipping over in his bed, lying on his side, messy hair against his pillow in a way that you’ve seen in person a few too many times. he called you this morning before the two of you had even gotten out of bed. “so, what did you even do last night without me?”

“well, i was planning on staying in and spending all weekend by myself,” you start, “but i actually went over to atsumu’s last night.”

“you? hung out with atsumu? on a friday night? what kinda things did you have to do for that to happen?” he asks, one eyebrow raised.

“nothing,” you sneer at him, “he’s the one that suggested it actually.”

“yea, and how did that go?” he asks, tiny tinge of jealousy hidden behind the sarcasm at the end of the sentence.

“weirdly good. i thought he might try to make a move or something, but we just kinda hung out,” you explain, maybe omitting the parts where you fell asleep on his chest and told him that you think about him all the time.

“and what are you up to tonight?” all of the questions that he keeps asking about your weekend are making you miss him even more, because the answer is nothing but you wish the answer was hanging out with maki.

you sigh dramatically, “well, you guys left me, so i’m having lunch with atsumu, but i’m on my own tonight. which isn’t bad actually, going to just spend some time alone, get caught up on assignments, whatever.”

“i’d probably be having more fun with you,” he admits.

“what? not going good over there?” you ask.

“no, it’s a blast. i’ve missed these guys and it’s been super fucking fun. last night, hajime convinced oikawa to jump in the lake with him and because oikawa was really drunk, he did it, but hajime didn’t jump with him and oikawa was really pissed. swear to god he almost drowned. it was really great,” maki laughs at the thought and then responds to your concerned look, “he didn’t drown, yn, calm down, it was funny.”

“and i’ve got to catch up with people that i haven’t seen since high school,” maki shrugs, pausing, “but i mean, they’re not you.”

you’re about to react, some form of i get that coming out of your mouth as there is a harsh knock on maki’s door. “come in,” maki answers.

from off screen, you hear oikawa mumble something. it’s quiet. you’re not sure you could’ve made it out if you hadn’t previously spent so much time with oikawa. “hajime wants to go to the diner to get food, get dressed.”

“alright, alright, i’m just gonna say bye to yn,” maki says, sitting up in his bed.

there’s a loud squeak of the mattress as oikawa jumps on the bed, you assume. “yn! how is everything back there? making it by without us?”

“it’s been one day, guys,” you groan, jokingly. “but it’s good. i’m good.”

“yn hung out with atsumu last night,” maki says. it sounds like a tattle.

oikawa tilts his head to the side, “last night?” he’s sporting a devious smile as he pounces on maki, both hands covering maki’s ears as he says hushed, “and how did it go?”

a blush rises to your cheeks at the whole spectacle. maki is trying to push oikawa off of him and oikawa, surely used to testing iwaizumi in the same ways, is able to hold his ground. “good, it went good!” you reply in a laugh.

“and? did anything happen?”

“no! stop it!” you say, watching as maki finally throws oikawa off of him.

“okay! okay!” oikawa has both of his hands up in defeat, sliding off of the bed and walking towards the door. “10 minutes, maki, we’re leaving in 10.” the door closes off screen.

maki shakes his head, slightly out of breath, “i gotta go, but i’ll talk to you later, okay? i’ll text you.”

you nod. “and i’ll see you sunday?” you ask.

he tilts his head, questioning, “it hasn’t even been a full day. kinda pathetic.”

“fine,” you say, calling his bluff.

“no! i’ll see you sunday, loser,” he says quickly, “god, let me make fun of you for being obsessed with me once in a while.”

you can’t stop smiling. “alright, alright. see you sunday, maki. can’t wait.”

“can’t wait,” he repeats and then hangs up.

< 11:21 pm < have a good day ♡

> maki ♡ / 11:21 pm > you too ♡

/++/

you’ve forgone yours and atsumu’s lawn blanket set up as per his request, which you weren’t really expecting. after the events of last night, you assumed he might want to have the space to be close to you. maybe not.

you didn’t ask questions, just chose a familiar picnic table and sat on the side that you knew you could watch atsumu approach from.

and you do, eyes on him as he walks towards you. he cuts through the lawn, deviating from the concrete path, throwing a smile your way when he recognizes that you’re watching him.

“yknow it’s almost getting too cold to keep sitting out here,” you say as he approaches, gesturing to your spot on the lawn. your spot. you cross your arms over one another, shivering slightly. fall is settling in, the semester more over than it is started.

he walks around to your side of the bench and sits beside you. you’re not sure if he’s doing this on purpose, making you feel this flustered. when he takes his jacket off, the same one that you met him in, the same one that was hanging on the back of his chair last night, and presents it in front of you, you know that he must be doing this on purpose.

“are you really giving me your jacket right now?” you ask, mind screaming at you to just grab it. “we’re not in a cheesy rom-com.”

“are ya cold or not?” he asks, extending it a bit further.

“yes,” you mutter, grabbing it from him and sliding it on. “thank you, tsumu.” you’re enveloped with him, soft fabric infused with his clean scent, and you’re not sure you’re going to give this back, so you hope it’s not that important to him. “it’s cute that your accent comes out when you’re short,” you point out.

“shuddup,” he says, shaking his head. you scooch over closer to him, legs pressed together. he throws his arm around your shoulder, picks at your lunch, and you’re very aware at how much of a couple you look like right now. it’s quiet, peaceful.

he breaks the silence with a sentence that you’re confused by how he thought it was a good idea, “don’t be mad.”

you immediately face him, expression contorted into confusion and maybe a bit of anger for no reason other than what else are you supposed to feel when someone prefaces with that?

he explains, “i’ve been thinking about what you said last night and-“

“TSUM TSUM!!”

you jump at the loud voice and nickname. you can’t locate the source so you swivel your head. you search for whoever is calling for atsumu while he continues to explain, “so maybe i told my friends that i think they could meet you and we were getting lunch today.”

“bo, come on, you said you’d be chill,” another voice, a different voice, says.

“and maybe they didn’t even let me explain, just said they would be there and maybe were a bit too enthusiastic about it?” he shrugs.

you spot the source now, the same buff man from the selfie smiling at you wide and waving excessively. you offer a small wave back.

“me? meet your friends?” you ask, shocked. you obviously were about to meet his friends. they were crossing the lawn as you spoke.

“i meant it last night, i just didn’t know you wanted to meet them,” atsumu says plainly. “and if it’s important to you, then it’s important to me.” ba-bump.

you nod, because you’re certain that if you tried to speak, your words would come out jumbled.

the two men take a seat across from you. the man with black and white hair beams, “it’s so great to meet you finally. we told him, said she’d probably love to meet us, but i think he’s just been embarrassed about us or something.”

“yn, this is bokuto,” atsumu introduces you.

“and i’m sakusa,” the man with black hair and curly hair says, introducing himself.

“it’s really great to meet you both,” you offer.

“hinata is going to be so sad he missed this,” bokuto says, “missing out on finally meeting the girl tsum tsum’s been talking about for weeeeeeks.”

“that’s enough,” atsumu says, shaking his head as he uses his free hand to shake it in front of bokuto.

“bo’s right,” sakusa reasons, “atsumu does talk about you a lot.”

“guys, see, this is exactly why i didn’t want you to meet her, god,” atsumu says, clearly embarrassed, not used to being on defense around you, not like this.

bokuto and sakusa are just smiling.

“she deserves to know,” sakusa reasons, gesturing towards you.

“yea, i deserve to know,” you speak up. there’s a prideful smile on sakusa’s face.

“never letting you guys interact again,” atsumu shakes his head, scrapes his fingers against your hip in a way that almost makes you jump. you can hear the lightness in his voice and when you turn to look at him, you can see the smallest warm smile.

“so how do you guys know tsumu?” you ask, nickname slipping out just on instinct.

neither of them tease you for it explicitly, but they do exchange a knowing look. if you were closer to them you could decipher the hidden meaning of she said it. she said the name.

“volleyball,” bokuto says, “we all met at volleyball. atsumu is our setter. but also now our best bud.”

“yknow, i don’t think i’ve actually ever asked anything about your volleyball stuff,” you say to atsumu, putting your hand on his knee. you’ve always just talked about it vaguely, no real details.

“but he's the volleyball guy,” sakusa smirks.

“no-,” atsumu says.

“yeah! that’s what that guy called you? right?” bokuto asks. atsumu is about to interrupt again, a last-ditch plea on his face, but bokuto doesn’t notice or chooses to ignore it, “maki.” your best friend’s name comes out of this stranger’s mouth in a mocking tone and oh my god atsumu talks shit about maki to his teammates/close friends.

there are a million ways you could react to this statement, stammering and stumbling over your words as you land on a sharp laugh. “i- you-,” you can’t stop laughing, “is that? does atsumu-.” you really can’t talk.

“what?!” atsumu asks as if he has any room to be the one questioning you.

“you just,” tears are forming at the corners of your eyes as you lean into his shoulder, forehead against his jacketless skin, “fuckin- it got to you that badly?” you turn your attention towards bokuto, “is that how he said it?”

bokuto, ever the betrayer of atsumu, nods his head.

“quit it,” atsumu says, less shocked and embarrassed now, your laughter infecting him. “that’s how he said it.” there’s a smile behind the words, soft laughter coming along with it. when you don’t stop laughing for another few seconds, and then a few more, atsumu wraps his arms around you, smothering him in his strong arms. “yer being ridiculous.”

you push away from him and in between your fits of simmering down laughter, subsiding for only a few seconds at a time before picking back up again, you catch the smile on sakusa’s face that says so clearly that you can tell without knowing him at all, so this is why he can’t stop talking about you.

once you’ve finally composed yourself, you turn to sakusa and bokuto, “and you guys play?”

“we both play outside hitter,” sakusa explains, looking like he’s about to elaborate a bit further, but atsumu interrupts.

“since i’m the setter, that means that i’m kinda like the brains of the operation.”

“oh, fuck off, miya,” sakusa says, rolling his eyes.

you laugh, “i know what a setter does.”

“how? we’ve never talked about it?”

“well, no, but i’ve seen maki play plenty of times,” you note, “oikawa’s a setter. maki and iwa play outside hitter. you didn’t know they played too?”

“oh my god, they’re both the volleyball guys,” sakusa comments, leaning back in his seat like he’s just had the biggest epiphany.

“fuck off, omi,” atsumu sneers and then turns his attention back to you, “you never told me.”

you put your hands up, “i don’t know! i guess it just never came up.”

bokuto reaches out his arm, grabbing your forearm excitedly. “well, one day you’ll have to come watch us play, yn,” he says, smiling brightly at you.

“i would really love that, actually. tsumu’s never invited me to one of his games before, so,” you say, shrugging. honestly, it had never been a thought on your mind before, a lot of things hadn’t been on your mind before, but now that you’re sitting here with his very fun friends, you really want to be a part of it all. a part of this side of his life, not the one that you’ve created and pulled him into, lunches and tiny meet ups and dragging him to the grocery store and having him babysit your plants, but whatever this is that’s making your chest feel so light.

“or let you meet us,” sakusa chimes in.

“yea, for good fuckin’ reason,” atsumu quips back.

“well, consider yourself officially invited to our next game,” bokuto nods, “here, give me your number and we can-.”

“no way,” atsumu interjects.

you’re already reaching into your bag, pulling out your phone, ready to punch in bokuto’s phone number.

“i really don’t need you guys to have more ways to talk shit about me,” atsumu says, but there’s no malice in the words.

“i wasn’t going to talk shit about you, tsum tsum,” bokuto rolls his eyes, offering out his hand for you to drop your phone into. atsumu is skeptical as he lets you give your phone over to bokuto. as soon as his fingers curl around the phone, bokuto finishes his thought, “but there are plenty of cute photos of you that i have that don’t seem very fair for yn not to have.”

atsumu lunges forward to grab the phone out of bokuto’s hand, but bokuto pulls it back quickly. “bokkun, i swear to god,” atsumu says, standing up as best he can while still being inside of the bench. bokuto is already two steps ahead, springing from his seat, nearly hitting sakusa as he does.

“watch it,” sakusa warns.

bokuto is gone, running away as he presses buttons on your phone. atsumu is much more careful on his side, makes sure to unravel from you before stepping out of his seat. “i’m not kidding!” despite the head start bokuto acquired, atsumu is already almost on his heels. bokuto is laughing, head thrown back as he messes with your phone.

sakusa takes this moment of chaos to talk to you directly. his voice pulls you out of this awestruck daze watching atsumu jump on bokuto’s back. “i can see why he talks about you all the time,” sakusa says lowly across the table as bokuto runs in circles with atsumu on his back as if he weighs nothing at all.

you’re feeling a bit more confident at this sentence, a bit more easily yourself, so you let it slip as you turn to face sakusa, joking as you say, “what? i’ve proven how cool i am in this tiny lunch?”

sakusa chuckles, breathy, before nodding affirmingly, “not exactly what i meant, but yes, that too.” he pauses, contemplating if the thing he’s about to say next is pushing a boundary, saying too much, figuring out how to phrase it before it actually comes out of his mouth. “i meant more that i understand why he talks about you all the time.”

you’re quiet, tilting your head curiously.

he doesn’t let you sit on your thoughts, finishes his sentence right as bokuto and atsumu are running back towards the table, “because he’s really into you.”

you don’t get to respond, interrupted by bokuto hiding on one side of you, finishing whatever he’s doing on his phone before thrusting the phone back into your hands. he sticks his tongue out at atsumu and atsumu narrows his eyes. “atsumu’s just worried that he’s going to fuck up at our game when you’re there.”

this is all so cute, the bantering and the things that bokuto is saying, but you have so many fucking questions. you want them to run back over there for hours so that you can have a long, in-depth conversation with sakusa about what exactly he fucking means.

you don’t want to seem unresponsive or like you can’t keep up, so you reply, “maybe i’ll bring maki along and he can show off like he always does.” you almost regret it, but sakusa and bokuto start laughing just like you were laughing earlier and bokuto is slamming his fist on the table and atsumu doesn’t look hurt at all, he looks amiable.

you turn your head towards atsumu, the laughter allowing you cover to speak just for him, “or i’ll just go and cheer you on. if you’ll have me there.” atsumu gives you a short, affectionate nod.

sakusa and bokuto leave about a half hour (that’s spent mostly making fun of atsumu the entire time) after that, saying that they’ll see you again soon, they’re sure, and waving as they leave. as soon as they’re out of earshot, atsumu lets out a huge breath.

“i told you,” he says, shaking his head, body finally relaxed in a way that makes you realized he was tense the entire time. “i told you that they were fucking weird.”

“they’re not weird, they’re sweet,” you say back. there is a certain peacefulness now that you assume only exists because of the huge absence of noise. it’s not better, just more familiar. you slot your fingers into atsumu’s, holding onto his forearm with your other hand.

“yea, if you’re not on the other side of all of their bullshit,” atsumu shakes his head.

“maybe if you didn’t talk about me so much,” you tease.

“don’t let it go to your head,” he says, lifting his arm that you don’t have a hold of and tapping on your forehead. you press your forehead into him, laughing.

the two of you sit together for another few hours, pulling work out of your bags that neither of you really focus on. you mostly spend the time cracking jokes at the other’s expense or for the other to laugh at and finding new ways to get tangled into each other on a picnic table bench until it’s time to leave.

“i’ll see you sometime tomorrow, yeah?” you ask, moving around school work and responsibilities and seeing maki in your head to make room for atsumu in your day.

he leans forward, presses the quickest, smallest kiss into the side of your cheek, “obviously.” as he leaves, the warmth stays, on your cheek and down your chest, through your fingers and toes. partially because of the kiss, sure, but mostly because of the hoodie he’s entrusted in your care.

/++/

you are both so excited for and dreading your night alone. you are excited because it’s been awhile since you’ve just had some time in your room by yourself. you are welcoming the extra time to catch up on assignments and take a shower and not do anything else that requires thinking.

you are, however, despite all of this, mostly filled with dread. saturday night is a staple miya atsumu hookup night. last week it was fine, the week before that, sure, whatever, but after last night, the thought of atsumu hooking up with some random girl that he found out at a party is bringing back a familiarly upset stomach. if you hadn’t had spent the night last night as you did, a taboo listening session might even have been in the stars tonight, would have been maybe really welcomed.

but now you’ve slept in his bed. you’ve been in his arms. you’ve been on the other side of the wall. there are memories attached to this vision of him now. when you close your eyes, you can see his room so clearly. if you had to think about them in his bed, the one that you felt safe cuddled next to him in, the one where he told you about all of his childhood friends, if you had to think of her on his pillow instead of you?

you take a deep breath, closing your eyes. you will have a great night all by yourself even if that means sleeping on the farside of your room and using your noise canceling headphones at full volume.

the later it gets into the night, the more antsy you’re getting. hours are ticking by and you have never been this productive in your life, assignment after assignment finished just to stop yourself from thinking for longer than a few seconds. you won’t have to worry about school work for the next few weeks.

it’s nearly 1 am by the time that you’ve finished all of the work that you possibly can, which, in hindsight, was such a horrible idea. finishing all of your work before the 1-3 am time of the night?

well, maybe if you’re just not in your room when he gets back, you can just put your headphones on and not have to think about it at all tonight. you grab a change of clothes, your towel, all of your bathroom essentials, and make your way to dorm showers at the other end of the hall.

your shower takes much longer than it should because you make sure that it does, but somewhere along the way you must have pissed someone off, something from your past must be coming back to haunt you because instead of timing it perfectly to miss him completely, you’ve timed it perfectly to catch him completely.

he’s all dressed up, hair perfectly done in a way that begs to be messed up, stupidly cute outfit, something plain but looks insanely good on him, enough cologne to fill the entire hallway, and, only when he sees you walking down the hallway, a huge smile on his face.

you feel extremely underdressed, walking up to him. partially on account of the fact that you are wearing a huge tshirt, underwear, and absolutely nothing else. you don’t know if he’s already been drinking, if he doesn’t notice, or if he doesn’t care, but his eyes follow down your body slowly.

every single moment in your life has happened because of a culmination of things; this is just a fact. everything that has happened in your life up until this moment has built up to this moment, that’s how living works. you knew this.

but god you wish you could see a chart, could zoom in on every single point that had a hand in this moment and alter them in some sort of way that wouldn’t have caused you to say what comes out of your mouth.

you look down at your phone screen, checking the time. “woah, you hung out with me on friday and no company tonight?” you ask as you step around him and in front of your door. why would you say that.

you know why, vaguely, not completely. you’re not completely sure why you chose to essentially divulge the biggest secret you’re harbored of your entire college career in one sentence, but you know that it had something to do with how flustered you were in that moment, how good atsumu looks in front of you, and maybe the fact that it’s all you’ve been able to think about tonight.

it slips out, really, no barrier of judgment. you guys have been friends for too long. the quips and the teasing come so naturally now that you can’t help it.

this is the first time that you’re admitting this to him. your heart is pounding as you wait for him to respond. he’s not responding quick enough. you hope that he just doesn’t clock it, doesn’t understand the implications of the joke.

he furrows his eyebrows together, stopping completely, “what?”

your body is burning. how do you backtrack from this. where do you go from here.

when you don’t answer immediately, his mind starts filling in the blanks, and he starts asking more questions, “company?”

“yea, like,” you clear your throat, shifting your towel under your arm, “y’know saturday nights and company.”

he turns to face you completely and you feel like this is your first time meeting him. you feel small, tiny, chest aching because of the violence of your heart. even more so when you see the embarrassment creeping onto his face. “how would you know if i have company?”

this is it. the fucking moment. it’s been over 4 months. the two of you have lived next to each other for nearly an entire semester. you went 2 months without even knowing him, 1 month with fixing all of your previously conceived notions, and this past month falling for him and it’s all about to go crashing down because of a stupid joke you’ve made.

“you weren’t exactly subtle about it,” you answer and you’re amazed at how your voice is actually audible.

a lot of things click for atsumu in that moment, you can see it on his face.

“you heard that?” he asks, quietly stunned.

“all of it,” you answer.

it’s quiet for a moment. you can’t even hear the hum of the lights or the beat of your own heart as you wait for his reaction to the admission.

“fuck,” atsumu says, palm smoothing over his face, “god, i can’t recover from that at all can i? holy shit.” he doesn’t ask why you didn’t tell him. he doesn’t look put off or uncomfortable. “holy shit. okay. well, fuck.”

you’re about to apologize when he shakes his head, fingers pushing through his hair. you can’t exactly read whatever emotion is there, maybe panic? you can’t get a good read because it’s gone soon thereafter.

“no,” he says slowly, “i don’t have company tonight. was going to go out and drink with some friends, but i left my ID in my room.” he gestures to the keys in his hand, knuckles white around them. “you still alone this weekend?”

you nod, not really knowing what to do, where to go from here still. he’s not being weird. he’s trying to resume conversation with you, but something feels off. you want to say, “yea, i said i’d be alone all weekend, don’t you listen?” but any joke that comes to you feels too harsh, too out of place, terrified that it’ll end up an admission of something else.

“do you want-,” he begins to ask, but you shake your head so hard that you’re convinced you shake water droplets out of your hair and onto him.

“no, no, are you kidding? i look like this,” you gesture down.

atsumu looks like he’s about to say something, but nothing comes out. fuck. you’ve really ruined things now.

“go out with your friends,” you say, nodding your head down to the elevators.

“we don’t have to go out,” atsumu adds.

“i’m not keeping you in on the weekend again,” you say, shifting your weight. “seriously, i’m okay alone tonight, you go on out.”

“do you want to drink?” he asks, persistent as always.

“tsumu, i told you, i’m not going out tonight,” you say. the nickname is muscle memory at this point and you’re glad that at least you have some sort of remnants of a few minutes ago.

“just, here, we can drink here,” he gestures to his dorm room. you feel like a fucking freshman again. “if you don’t want to drink, that’s cool. i just-” he hesitates. it looks more difficult than it ever has, but he steps towards you and brushes a strand of hair out of your face. “it feels weird for the first time between us and i don’t think i can leave if you’re not feeling okay,” he finishes, overly attentive and completely different than you ever expected him to be, and you feel so horrible.

“tsumu-,” you start, but he isn’t having any of it.

“i’m serious.”

“one drink,” you say, “and then you go out with your friends.”

/++/

the thing about one drink is that nobody really has one drink.

or, rather, you do at first and then you have another because the guy that you’re really into is in front of you, telling joke after joke trying to make you feel better about your relationship because you’ve just admitted that you’ve heard him having sex all semester.

and unfortunately for you and your self-deprecation, the guy that you’re really into is really good at making you feel better, not just with jokes and compliments, but with soft touches and genuine smiles.

“i can’t believe you’re staying in with me when you look like that,” you say, shaking your head. you didn’t even have time to change, are still in the same post-shower outfit that you were before.

“come on, you look better than i do,” he says, shaking his head, taking a sip of his drink and gesturing to you with his cup.

you’re sitting on his floor because the bed was a bit much after the painful conversation you had in the hallway. he’s sitting in front of you, back against his desk, as he sets his drink on the floor beside him. you let yourself flush, accept his compliment if only to fasttrack back to how it felt between the two of you before.

the thing about more than one drink is that nobody really chooses a stopping point, not when the awkwardness has faded and the guy that you’re really into continues to stay the night with you. and definitely not when said guy has taken root next to you, pressed up against you completely.

“fuck,” he shakes his head out of nowhere. he doesn’t even give you an opportunity to ask what, just repeats himself, louder, “fuck.”

“what?” you ask, turning to look at him, but not moving a single inch away from him.

“i can’t believe you heard all of that,” he says, shaking his head against the side of the bed. he laughs lightly, unbelievably. “that’s really just so embarrassing.”

for the first time tonight, at the mere mention of it, you don’t want to crawl into your room and cry. you’re not sure what exactly it is (it’s the alcohol), but you laugh with him, light at first, and then growing until you’re shaking your head. it is actually kinda funny.

“it was funny at first, honestly,” you tell him, “i was like oh my god?? and then it progressively got, yknow, not as funny when i had morning classes and exams.”

“is that why we didn’t meet for the first two months of living next to each other?” he asks, turning his head to look at you. and he does, look at you, stares into your eyes with the amount of focus that someone as drunk as the two of you should not have been able to do.

“not really, more like a gift from god,” you say.

“hey,” he whines.

“yea, that night we met i was coming back from maki’s because i couldn’t take it anymore,” you admit to him. you can see the embarrassment settle in even heavier than before, a remorse coming alongside it. after all this time, you really didn’t mean for him to feel bad about it. “you don’t have to be embarrassed.”

“i mean, that’s so- i can’t believe-,” he stammers. you’re not used to seeing him like this and you understand why he had to have at least one drink with you before going out, because right now atsumu is feeling exactly how you felt out in the hallway and all you want to do is fix that.

even if it is at your own expense.

“it’s fine, really, it’s fine,” you say, “it was funny at first, and then annoying, but i mean, eventually-” don’t you fucking dare “eventually it was good for me too.” stop fucking talking.

now he looks really confused and if you don’t explain no fucking stop he’s going to be even more weirded out.

“well, i just mean, like,” you shrug, “like eventually i started to enjoy it.” shut the fuck up.

he chooses his next words carefully, or as carefully as he can when the room is slightly moving. “like how?”

don’t say a fucking word. “like listening,” you admit. even in your drunken state, your stomach does flips.

his face still has tiny elements of confusion, but most of it morphs into something much needier than that. “to me?”

you nod, movements barely noticeable but they’re making your head spin. the air is still, room quiet save for both of your quickened breathing. then, the only thing you can see is his hand, moving so slowly that you assume he’s afraid he’ll scare you off. he reaches across you, cups your cheek and pulls you to face him. when you’re looking at him, he doesn’t move his hand.

he leans in towards you and you don’t know if it’s the alcohol in your body or the fact that an hour ago you were terrified that you would never be able to be in this room again, but you lean forward to meet him. he stops, just shy of your lips, talking so low that you can feel the vibrations against your lips. “and doing what?” he asks.

the whimper comes from your throat, lips tightly shut so it doesn’t have a chance to escape you. you lean forward further, pressing your forehead against his as his hand slides down your cheek to your jaw, fingers spanning your neck, curling softly so that his nails drag against your sensitive skin. you can feel it in your entire body.

he lowers his head, nudges your chin with his nose, pushing your head further into his hand, exposing your neck. “can i?” he asks, breath tickling as he speaks. you’re not sure if he realistically thought you would deny him right now of anything that he wanted, really. you nod softly, not wanting to break out of his grasp.

the first thing that you feel are his teeth, scraping against the softness of your neck. and then you feel his lips closing around the skin. you close your eyes, no point in keeping your eyes trained on the ceiling, anyway. atsumu licks a strip up your neck before moving down again. he uses his free hand to pull at the neckline of your shirt, exposing your collarbones. he wraps his lips around the bone, sucking repetitively until you’re positive that there’s purplish marks wherever he picks his head up from.

his moves his hand from your jaw, trust you to keep the position that he’s moved you into, and you do. he rewards you for this, both hands smoothing down your body, following your curves, digging into them as he pleases, latheing his tongue over the same spots on your neck and chest.

“tsumu,” you whine, not really sure for what, but just for more. his hands are on your thighs now, his fingernails pressing harshly into the fats of them before sliding upwards underneath the hem of your shirt. he can feel your skin in his hands now, can’t get enough of it as he moves his hands everywhere and anywhere he can.

when he gets to your chest, takes both of your perfectly soft tits into his hand, you hear him stifle a grunt. he moves one hand quickly, grabbing at your hip, sliding down from your waist, pulling you towards him, facing towards him so that he can feel you again, so that he can play with your tits better. his touch is harsher this time, more desperate, more purposeful as he goes straight for your tits, no longer ghosting over your skin, but aching for your heavy tits to be in his hands.

god, he can only imagine what they fucking look like all pretty and bouncing for him. fuck he needs to see them.

he pulls away from you, sits up from against the bed, moves in front of you. he’s on his knees, towering above you in your seated position. you’re looking up into his eyes, whimpers falling from your quivering lips. he cups your face again. you’re ready. you’re completely ready to recall every little thing that you have heard over the past month. you know atsumu, you know exactly what he likes, and you’re going to blow his fucking mind.

knock knock knock.

just before his lips can touch yours, there’s a pounding knock on his door.

“no fucking way,” atsumu says under his breath.

“miya atsumu, get your ass out here now or i’m breaking down the fucking door.” knock knock knock knock knock knock. it's almost scary until you hear laughter from the hallway, snickering at first and then boisterous.

“come on, i don’t even interrupt,” you say to atsumu, looking towards the door.

knock knock knock knock knock knock. “we know you’re in there.”

“they’re not going to leave it alone until i answer,” he says, defeated, “i have to answer and then- then i’ll be right back and-.”

“atsumu, you have 10 seconds and i’m gonna start ramming,” the voice says.

atsumu scurries up from the floor, walking quickly over to the door as you adjust yourself, smoothing out your oversized tshirt and patting your hair. “what?” he hisses as he cracks the door open. the person on the other side of the door pushes it open completely.

“we’re going out,” one voice says.

“another night,” atsumu says, the door already closing.

“i’m not leaving without you,” another voice replies, not pushing the door back open.

“and i’m not leaving,” atsumu says, and you can tell he’s getting impatient now.

from your spot on the floor, you recognize one of them as a guy from one of the photos. dark hair, carefree attitude. suna? you can’t remember exactly if you’ve gotten the name right. you’re surprised that you’ve even noticed the person at all. you don’t recognize any of the other two guys that are with him.

one of them, not suna, makes eye contact with you for the tiniest fraction of a second, “you literally have any other day to hookup with some chick.” you wonder if he thinks they’re being quiet. your cheeks burn. you want to be back in your room now.

“it’s not like that,” ba-bump, he says, trying to quiet them a bit or at least just bringing his own volume down.

“doesn’t matter,” one of them says.

“i didn’t want to spoil it, but,” suna says, “samu’s here.”

atsumu gets quiet for a second, really mulling over the weight of everything that’s happening, at the two sides that are pulling him in different directions. “samu’s here?”

“yeah, he was supposed to be here earlier, but his train got in super late and so he just got here and he wants to go out because it’s a saturday night. it was supposed to be a surprise or whatever, but you’re not listening to me, your best friend, and just leaving now. so that’s what you get,” suna spews.

“but i-,” atsumu says, instinctively looking back towards you. the look that you’re wearing almost makes him stay. “fuck.” he slams the door on the trio of guys and you are so grateful. you finally feel like you can breathe, can relax just the tiniest bit. he walks back over to you. “i’ve gotta-.”

you push yourself up from off of the ground, stumbling a little bit as atsumu helps you back onto your feet. “you don’t have to explain yourself, tsumu, go hang out with your friends.”

“if samu wasn’t here, i wouldn’t-.”

“i know,” you say. and it’s the truth. you 100% fully believe him with all of your heart.

“you could go out with us,” he offers.

you’re not sure that you could handle being referred to as some chick all night or atsumu’s side piece or looked at like you’d never be looked at again. you weren’t ready for a miya atsumu night out and definitely not when you’re already feeling it as much as you are. you shake your head. “you go and have fun, see your brother.”

he looks so torn, so frantic as he tries to think out the rest of his night, how to get drunk you back to your dorm without having to expose you to the people in the hallway. “i’m probably going to stay with rin and samu tonight anyway. do you want to just stay here and maybe,” he hesitates, the knocking starts again, “you can meet my brother in the morning?”

“really?” you ask.

knock knock knock knock. “it’s literally so getting so fucking late. hurry your ass up.”

atsumu helps you into his bed in not exactly the way he wanted to help you into bed tonight. “yes,” he answers, pulling the blankets over you, the softness of them so familiar. “and samu will love you and you will love him unfortunately.” atsumu reaches down and kisses your cheek. somehow it has you more flustered than anything that’s happened tonight. “tomorrow, okay?”

you nod.

he moves quickly after he’s noticed how content you are, throwing on his shoes, grabbing his ID from his desk, muttering under his breath things that you’re not sure are meant for you. fucking kidding me now? gonna beat the shit out of him for fucking i can’t fucking.

“goodnight, yn,” he says, reaching for the door, but not opening until you’ve said it back.

“goodnight, tsumu.”

you hear a click of the door, your eyes closing softly. and then you hear the voices.

“you’re seriously leaving her in there?”

“guys- seriously,” atsumu says, trying to stop the questions about what was happening in the room before they showed up.

“why’re you leavin’ a one night stand in your-”

“i said it wasn’t fucking like that. leave it,” atsumu says through gritted teeth. you hear the lock click.

“no fucking way. that was fucking her wasnt it?” suna asks.

“stop, she can fucking hear you, the walls are thin,” atsumu snaps.

you listen for the footsteps as they get quieter and quieter until you can’t hear any at all. you know you should be tired. you are tired, but you’re also in atsumu’s bed all alone. your eyelids are heavy and your breathing is slow and-

you reach your hand down between your legs.

with the scenes that are playing in your mind, you’re almost sure you could make yourself come with one tiny finger. you spread your lips apart with two fingers, sliding your middle finger down your drenched slit. you push the tip of your finger against your hole, head tilting back messily into his pillow.

he barely did anything to you at all, felt you up and kissed your neck, and you are soaking wet. your mind won’t stop wandering at where the night could have taken you if you weren’t interrupted. how deep he would be inside of you right now if you hadn’t been interrupted. at that thought, you plunge your fingers inside of you, moaning at how good they feel, but they’re not enough.

you’re missing your dildo, your fingers can’t reach deep enough, not even as you shove another finger in and circle your hips on them. you make the mistake of kneading at your tit, but it only leaves you missing the feeling of his huge hands grabbing at them. you’re feeling so fucking needy. it’s not enough that you’re doing this in his bed, you need to be doing it for him. you roll your hips against your fingers.

your clit rubs against the rough texture of the blanket and you almost come on the spot. “fuck,” you say aloud. you take your other hand on the outside of the blanket and push the fabric in between your legs, circling your hips against it. “mm fuck, tsumu.”

the blanket feels so good against you. he’s slept underneath these blankets, has probably jacked off to the thought of you underneath these blankets “fuck!” you say louder. you know exactly how loud you’re being, but you also know that no one that you care about is around to hear them.

your hands search around the bed. you don’t have time to feel any regret. it feels so good, you’re chasing this high, so fucking close. your skin feels like it’s crawling, aching. you fucking need this. you throw the blanket off of you, take your panties off and throw them across the room somewhere that you’re sure you will regret when you have to get them in the morning, but you need to feel it completely against your swollen lips and pretty clit.

you take the pillow that’s underneath your head and shove it between your legs. you press down on the soft pillow as hard as you can to get as much friction as you can as you fuck your clit into fabric that smells so fucking much like atsumu. you’re drenched, sloppy against his pillow but you can’t stop. your fingers grip into the cushion, his name falling off of your tongue like an unheard prayer.

“please, so close, so close,” you say, thrusting your hips against the pillowcase faster. you’re going to come. you’re going to fucking come on the pillow that he’s going to sleep on. “oh my fucking god,” you cry and you let yourself go, flooding as you come against his pillow. you can feel the mess that you’ve made smearing against the textured fabric.you can’t move. your bones feel like they’ve been replaced with bricks, but you need to see it. you pull the pillow up, your eyes instantly drawn to the large wet spot right in the center. fuck. you throb, so painfully empty. “fuck,” you mutter to yourself and put the pillow back between your legs, “not enough.”

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