#I do really like the little two-set of him shooing the player's hand away from petting haha

[sysig]

Laptop, now available for 500 pet-tickets (Patreon)

[ilovefoodandslasherswithmasks]

Part Two of the Billy Hargrove ff (there will be 5 parts btw, 7 with the censored versions 🧏‍♀️the not explicit part will be shorter by a lot cause I'll basically skip the entire smut part and move to the next day)

Warning: if you're a minor shoo or I'll ground you!

Warnings for this part:

Dirty language, kissing, touching, Billy getting off to you, explicit language, smut basically, uhhh just basically a whole bunch of getting worked up, smacking (you'll see) and slight kinks (degrading, etc)🦦. If there's more let me know I think this is all of the stuff in this.

Cause I need more than my imagination

~part 3

"You didn't use my perfum, are you sure?"

"Yeah it's probably like, I don't know, your shirt that smells a lot of your perfum, maybe the perfum got in the walls already. You always smell like a bottle of it so I wouldn't be surprised."

He chuckled.

"Doll, I see the way you react when I sit closer to you, or when you smell my jacket. Which no offense, I find that desperation to smell me and like me, very hot. But wouldn't want to accuse you of anything"

He set down the drinks walking over to you standing by the bed end.

"You're mistaken, I can't avoid it when you jacket reeks of cigarettes all the time. Also stop smoking it's unhealthy" you reply turning around to pick up his blanket. Turning around and wrapping it around yourself.

"Oh yeah? I reek? How come I see you bite your bottom lip when I smoke?"

"Again, you're mistaken, I'm actually trying not to gag then"

"Hahaha riiiight, you wanna gag for a different reason? Mh?"

"Pass."

"To bad" he replied smugly, sitting down on the bed as you took your drink and a slight awkward silence overtook the room.

"Soo" you start.

"So" he copies you, waiting for you to continue.

"So, your parents home?"

"Nope. Just us sugar tits"

"Haha okay...so what's the plan?"

"I don't know, I could think of something but I doubt you're down for it." He says undoing some of his buttons, opening the flannel his chest now basically all the way exposed. You roll your eyes while the familiar hest rises from your toes to you face.

"Whore" you joke as you grab one of his cds.

"I'd gladly be your personal men whore, if it means I can taste you and hold you. I'm all for it"

"Can we listen to, uh Mötley Crüe, that's how you pronounce it?"

"Sure sugar, put it on" he says getting up and walking behind you, his hand sliding around your waist, the blanket barely doing anything to make the touch less tempting. His lips settle on the back of your neck, as he watches you put the cd in the cd player, your blush smacking you across your face once more. As his hand wraps around you, pushing the blanket open slightly as he slips his hands into it to feel your skin just below your crop top. Another kiss landing on your neck, over your pulse point. A deep inhale erupts from him as his fingers slightly grip into your skin.

Come on and dance starts playing, you totally missed when he skipped the first song to this one. Before you can react you feel him leave a wet kiss on your neck.

"I want you Doll...what do you say, mh? I need to feel you Sugar"

You take in a shaky breath, the air in your lungs burning slightly for some reason. You can taste his lips on your tounge, when you never even kissed..

"Billy..we haven't even kissed yet, like really kissed yet."

"Shit.. if that's something you're up for now, I can work with that...I think kissing you will be more than enough for me to make myself fall asleep tonight." He whispers, his breath hitches, he take a deep breath as he slowly turns you around, trapping you between him and the desk where the music played.

He watched you, your eyes scanning his face slowly, a little flustered as you gathered your guts. Taking his face in your hands gently.

"I..don't know how to do this... well I kissed a guy before but it was like uhm a peck? Was a stupid spin the bottle thing...." You whisper against his lips, barely inches away now.

"Fuck, Doll, I will teach you whatever you don't know yet. Damn....shit I'll teach you whatever you need me to, I'd teach you to ride a bike if you don't know how..that just means I can be a major part of your life, that's all I want.."

"Okay but...if I suck please tell me?" You reply quietly, he just nods furiously, when you look at him and nod your head slightly he gently moves closer. Watching the way your eyes close tightly as you wait. He smiles before he kisses you, just a small peck. Pulling away to see you confused.

"...that's it?"

"No ..I just need a second or I'll lose myself"

You wait as he stares at you, the music the only sound.

"...you all calm and collected again?"

"Yeah"

Was all he said before he grabbed your hips pulling you against him, his lips back on yours. Slowly, you catch the right way of kissing him back, after a few embarrassing tries to move with him. When you finally got the right speed and movements, he groans against your lips. Sucking on your bottom lip, you wrap your arms around his neck way to smoothly, like you've done it multiple times. It just came so naturally.

He nibbles your bottom lip now, pulling away slightly, barely getting his words out before be kisses you again.

"Please, fuck darling open your mouth I need more"

When his lips went back on yours after that hurried sentence, you shivered, his tounge sliding over your lips and before you know it you relax and enjoy the way he slowly deepens the kiss. Almost careful. It didn't last long, before he huffed and full on frenched you. Sucking, moaning, sloppy wet sounds of both teeth and lips slowly mix with the music.

(God I'm dying here, this is more cringe then I expected. The fact I'm writing this to share it here my gosh !!)

His hand groping your waist as he stops himself from touching you inappropriately. He pulls away when he hears you mumble his name.

"Yeah.." *he breaths out licking his lips, staring at yours waiting to feel and taste you again.

You pant slightly, the heat in your abdomen seeping.

"Billy..you can touch me..like" blushing as what you're about to say, "touch me like really"

"You sure?"

"Yeah..."

"How much? Like can I slip under your clothes?" You can't form words again, just nodding.

"Say yes, and I'll touch you however you want me to.."

"Yes..Billy please touch me"

He nods, groaning as his eyes flicker to the floor, hanging his head slightly, taking a deep breath. You just wait playing with his curls.

"Fuck...I'm not usually like this, I swear..uh let's sit down this is awkward"

You chuckle, "from what people say you're definitely never like this"

"Shush"

He pulls you along gently sitting down and pulling you on his lap, his hands slipping under your top, as he looks up at you, sticking out his tounge, which you surprisingly kiss gently, before connecting your tounge to his, moaning as he gripped your waist hard. Deepening the kiss in a hurry, his hands slipping further up your shirt, just under your bra, before one moves back to your hips. Brushing over your ass, before he grips it harshly when you bit his tounge slightly.

He separates from the kiss, trailing kisses down your jaw, to you throat, all the way to the small space between shoulder and collar bone. Billy groans as he accidentally nudged you against the growing solid.

"Fuckkk" was all that hissed into the kisses before he did it again. Shit did it do things to you. You felt yourself pant into his hair, gently gripping it as your head leaned back, giving him more space to suck and kiss.

"Fuck Billy, is this what making out it?"

A deep hum leaves him as he stops, gripping your hips with both hands, grinding you harder.

"S dry humping darling, we moved a bit to deeply into making out. Probably already in the middle stage.."

"Middle stage ?mh..I think I like middle stage" you pant out, your hands resting on his neck, thumbs nudging his jaw to kiss him again.

He moans for the first time. Moving away, leaning his forehead against yours.

"You okay with this?"

"What do you mean?"

"Me and you grinding, possibly me coming in my pants at some point"

You laugh slightly.

"Yeah I'm more than fine with that"

"Good, cause if not I'd need the bathroom real bad"

I smile, tilting my head.

"Yeah? Billy I'm not so innocent, I'd love to watch...you don't need to go out of your way to leave the room for me.."

His eyes flicker over your face, swallowing hard as he adjust.

"You wanna...watch me get off?"

You nod, kissing his neck.

"I'm sure it will help if I'm here no?"

He separates from you, changing positions, a bit to fast too. He had you on the bed on your back as he reached for his belt while he sat between your thighs.

"You sure?"

"Yeah.."

Unbuckling his belt, janking it open, undoing his dark blue jeans, about to pull them a bit down before he leans down, holding your throat gently.

"Open your mouth darling"

You smirk, snorting before you do as he asked. He moves back slightly, groaning as he struggles to move his pants and boxers out of the way, when he finally did, the wet sound was unmistakable. The huff before he stuck out his tounge. Leaning up slightly to close the gap, his moan muffles into you as he moves his hand.

Breaking up the kiss he sits up, moving the hem of his flannel in-between his teeth. Staring at you as he moves his hand over his length over and over. You blush hiding your face slightly because the wet, sickly erotic sound really got to you. Wanting to close your legs but he just pushed them apart again, pushing up your skirt.

"Don't you dare close your legs Doll" he says dropping the flannel, causing it to cover his tip. Groaning he grabs the button up and rips it.

"Billy!"

"What?"

"You're gonna need to find the buttons later! And I'm gonna have to sew it for youu"

"Fuck the buttons, as long as you push mine I'll walk around with an open shirt"

"How come you're so quiet?"

"It's embarrassing. I'd moan or whine"

You roll your eyes, sitting up slightly on your elbows. Rising your eyebrows.

"Billy, you have any idea what it does to me when you moan? You think I won't enjoy every other sound you'll make while jerking off, watching me. Possibly imagining how I'd feel wrapped around you?"

He moans loudly throwing his head back,

"God damn doll you'll make me cum with that talk"

"Oh? You like when I talk like this? Is that how dirty you are? Want me to keep going?"

He nods his head, hooded eyes looking down at you.

"Shit you are a whore for me" you don't miss the way his body shudders.

"Oh my god you're into degrading!?' I mean I knew you were kinky and a sluty guy but my gosh"

"Fuck please don't go there right now. I'm about to burst"

"Oh I'm sure. With the way you're leaking, and the way you're shaking your hips into your hand, like a rutting animal" you purr sitting up, facing him, a husky whine leaving his lips as he feels your hand on the tip of his dick.

You gulp as you feel it, it's warm and wet twitching slightly. God you could do this all the time if it means seeing him like this.

"You're so hot...shit you gonna cum soon?"

"Yeah why"

"I'm so wet- oh oh wow okay"

You giggle as he moans loudly his cum dripping down your palm.

"Shit sorry.. I- I thought I could...fuck...last longer than that.." he mumbles opening his eyes when he didn't receive a answer to see you staring at your hand.

"Fuck wait" you watch him as he gets up in a hurry, breathing heavily as he grabs a shirt to clean your hand.

"Billy?" You say gently as he hums in reply.

"Need some help over here"

"Yeah I know" he hurries turning around taking your hand gently, "you said you'd only watch Darling"

"Yeah well how could I not touch you when you look like the most beautiful statue?"

He laughs slightly, a blush you haven't noticed on his face as he wiped your hand.

"Also..I didn't mean I need help with my hand Bill"

He stares at you, through his sweaty bangs, kneeling infront of you after he cleaned your hands.

(Yall like this but in a caring way, you see the vision?!)

"Yeah? What do you need help with then?"

"Mhhh well" you whisper blushing taking his hands placing them on your thighs. "Think you can figure it out lover boy?"

He smiles, "I don't know if I should take offense to that" his hands traveling up your thighs under your skirt slightly, "or wherever I should get back at you for it"

"How about you get that mouth doing something better than talking?"

"Hah wow aren't you being a bit to commanding now Doll?"

"Mh don't you like it, I thought you'd be into dominant me, since you know, you get off to me calling you names"

Groaning he smacks your thighs about to scold you, when a moan left your lips. Causing his mouth to hang open and yours shutting tightly.

"Fuck Doll, did you like that?" He asks his hand rubbing the spot he smacked, you cover your mouth with your hands nodding hesitantly.

"Damn..."

(Ahahaa part three a continuous of this coming soon, the pop pop part. Gosh I'll kill myself, if people irl find this jeez. Anyhow it's done the not explicit part will be shorter by a lot cause I'll basically skip the entire smut part and move to the next day)

[whatisreggieshortfor]

Obaasan

Bokuto x gn!reader

You just wanted to save up money before you finished high school.

Working the register at a convenience store should’ve been fairly easy, pretty straightforward.

Customers got annoyed about prices, you stood your ground that you didn’t set them and offered no discounts.

Sometimes their attitudes got to you.

But days like today made you feel like you were in the right place.

You had been ringing up an older woman- a regular you adored because she was the definition of sweet- the line behind her growing, when she suddenly tried to grab onto the counter as she got dizzy. Snapping forward, you dropped the items in your hands in favor of catching hers. You couldn’t get around the counter to assist without letting her go, many disrespectful patrons complaining about how they had to wait, when you caught sight of boys you knew from school, “Akaashi-San! Bokuto-senpai! Could you please give me some assistance?”

The old woman still had apologies spilling off her tongue as the two of them came forward- Akaashi began to offer his arm to her when Bokuto opted to scoop her off her feet. Akaashi tried to scold him, tell him it was inappropriate because he hadn’t even asked permission to touch her let alone pick her up- but you were already speaking to the woman.

“Obaasan, I’m gonna keep all of your things right back here, okay? Do you think you could ask your neighbor to come buy them for you later?” Her neighbor was a nice boy, you were pretty sure you’d seen him around school but never spoken outside of the store.

“You don’t need to do that.” Bokuto noisily, but politely, cut in, big grin on his face, “I can buy her stuff and make sure she gets home okay.”

“Oh, I couldn’t ask you to do that, young man.” She offered, the four of you were essentially ignoring the annoyed customers in line.

“It’s no trouble! Just let me…” Bokuto paused, shifting a little bit before pouting at his teammate, “Akaashiiiii, I can’t reach my wallet without setting her down.”

“I am not reaching into your pocket, Bokuto.”

“But Akaashiiiiii-“

Your eyes widened, you knew what was coming as the tips of his hair started to deflate, “I can do it for you, Bokuto.”

“L/N, you really don’t have to-“

“Really? Thanks!” Bokuto cut Akaashi off, turning toward you so you could reach across the counter.

But you should’ve let him finish whining to Akaashi.

Because on assumption you shifted his bag out of the way and reached into the pocket of his sweats.

And then his face turned red, “L/N- my, uh, my wallet is in my bag.”

Recoiling like you’d been burned, you shooed them away from the counter, shoving the bags into Akaashi’s arms, “On second thought I’ll just ring it up for the manager as a tab! Just send your neighbor over to pay the bill when you can, Obaasan!” You ushered them out the door, your face on fire, but you only had a moment for self pity before the grumbling line made their annoyance known.

When you got to school the next morning, you had marginally forgot about your accidental groping of the volleyball team’s star player.

At least until you saw him on the way to lunch.

You immediately spun around, trying to avoid the conversation, what was he even doing here? This is the second year hallway!

“L/N!” His voice called, of course someone his height could find you in the crowd. “Wait!”

Heaving a breath, you halted your steps, there was no point in trying to avoid or outrun him. He definitely had a physical advantage over you, and his best friend was in your class. There would be no escape. It was better to just deal with the awkwardness. Let him yell at you- or whatever someone as genuinely nice as him would do.

So you stood, waiting for him to catch up- and it seemed like it only took him three steps to make it to your side.

“Is your grandma okay?”

Your face screwed up in confusion, your grandmother? How did he know your grandmother? “Uh, she’s fine? I mean i haven’t spoken to her since Sunday dinner and it’s Friday now but-“

“Wasn’t she at the store last night?” His gold eyes were wide, confusion and curiosity mixing, but you finally understood what he meant.

“Oh! Oh, no! She wasn’t-“ you laughed, “Obaasan isn’t my grandma. She’s just a regular at the store, sometimes on my days off I’ll help her around the house. She only lives like a block from me. She’s kind of… my grandma who’s not my grandma? Does that make sense?”

Bokuto laughed, as long and loud as he usually did, “I get it- she was really nice! Kept talking about how sweet you are when I was helping her home.”

Why did his ears turn red?

“She likes to embellish,” you rolled your eyes, ignoring the embarrassment of her clearly trying to set you up.

“Bokuto-San.” Akaashi approached from his classroom, “Did you remember to give it to them?”

“Oh! Right!” He pulled an envelope and a container out of his bag, “She wanted me to give this to you, since we’d see you today. The money for her shopping, and some cookies she wanted you to have.”

“Oh, no way! Her cookies are legendary!” You nearly crushed the container to your chest before you caught yourself, “Would you guys like to… share them with me?”

“I’m okay, thank you L/N-san. Bokuto, you go ahead. I’ll see you at practice.”

Bokuto flushed deeper as Akaashi waved, walking away before the spiker could stop him.

When the regular came in again, she had Bokuto with her. “Y/N! Sweetie, your boyfriend has been so helpful.”

“My- HUH!?” You’re face erupted, befuddlement filling you.

Bokuto pouted at her, even as she hugged his arm to walk, “I told you I haven’t confessed yet!” His eyes widened, “I mean- not that I would- no, I mean- dang it!”

“Language, mago.” She sternly tapped his hand, “And you promised you would! It was why I gave you the cookies!”

He swiftly guided her down an aisle, but didn’t take into account how his voice traveled, “I know, I know, but we were finally actually talking! I couldn’t do it. People don’t… people think I’m too much.”

“Nonsense, sweetheart. You are a catch. The right person will know that, just as your friend does.” You could hear her soothing voice over the quiet music your manager played through the store, “You need to take the chance- just as you do in that sport you play! You told me about taking the risk to perform a dump, right?”

“But that’s different.” Bokuto argued, “Volleyball is what people expect of me. Outside of that, I’m just the loud idiot.”

“No, you aren’t.” You heard something fall, rounding the corner to see him stacking boxes back on a shelf before you continued, “Bokuto-senpai, you may be loud, but you’re also empathetic. Kind. Compassionate. You helped Obaasan when all the other customers just complained that she was holding them up. That’s so much more important than whether or not you understand what an inside voice is or if you need a tutor. Academics can be hard, but it doesn’t discount the kind of person you are.”

Your neighbor patted his hand again, “Take the risk, dearie. I think you’ll realize it’s worth it.”

“Yeah… maybe it is.” Bokuto gave you a shy smile, shyer than you knew possible for him.

Obaasan was one smooth woman.

Masterlist

[wings-of-an-antelope]

You're going to sunburn!

Ice X reader

Warnings- None

Summary- Ice loves the way you fuss over the little things, he's always up in the sky out of reach but when he touches the ground he knows he'll be loved.

Stepping out onto the side walk, Ice makes his way up to the door, keys jangling in his hand as he whistles a little tune. It was all he could do to curb the excitement building in his stomach as the smell of cookies wafted heavily in the air the closer he got to the door. He could hear you singing in the kitchen, a song playing on the radio, the sound of the door hidden by the music he was able to slip in, set down his things and watch you from the door.

The way your hips swung to the music, the way your lips formed the lyrics, hair swaying about with your movement, Ice was utterly enthralled with the sight before him. He must have made a noise, or brushed against something because you turned around and smiled, the soft secret smile reserved only for him. It made his heart flutter helplessly in his chest as you place the hot cookies on a tray setting on the counter.

"I didn't hear you come in, my love." You chirped, molding yourself in his embrace the moment his arms spread open in front of him, your eyes staring adoringly into his own.

"I snuck in, darlin'. Couldn't bring myself to interrupt your groove." He chuckled, leaning down and placing a tender kiss on your lips, as you pull away he give a little smirk and pushes the tips of his fingers down into your fresh sugar cookie dough.

"Mmm, no distractions right now, Mister. We're going to the beach with everyone today.... In like two minutes, you should go change." You smile up at him when he raises his brow at you, his signature grin sliding into place on his face.

"You are a very busy body." He chuckled making his way down the hall and into your shared room to change into shorts.

The sun beat down on the sand unmercifully, though it went unnoticed by beach goers, the water serving to cool them down, various sports being played served as a distraction. Ice however watches you playing in the sand happily, you've got a pretty great sand castle built, then as you look up at him he's shocked to find a worried expression blemishing your perfect face.

You rummage through your bag pulling something from it and jogging over to him hands outstretched, knowing he would move into them.

"What are you doing, Darlin'?" Ice asks as your fingers slide over his cheeks, nose and forehead with a slippery substance before moving down to his chest and eventually around his back.

"You're going to sunburn!" You pout prettily up at him, your eyes gazing deeply into each other.

"You don't like it when I look like a lobster?" He asked, his voice tinged heavily with amusement at the look on your face, your head shaking vigorously.

"Hey! Ice! We need another player!" Maverick called out from the volleyball court, pulling Ice's attention briefly to behind him, you took the opportunity to cover his neck in sunblock as well.

"Go have fun my love, I'll be cheering from the sidelines." You shoo him off, moving your resting area closer to the court so that you could cheer for him.

By the end of the night everyone was tired, and more than a little excited to be going home, the only one sporting a sunburn, making him look like a lobster, was Maverick.

Ice had the perfect life, his rival was suffering mildly, the love of his life was laying in the passenger seat of his truck, trying to keep their eyes open and best of all. Your love was absolute, and the one thing he could count on in his life to never change.

A/n- It's really short and kind of lacking, I appologize.

[ready-to-obeyme]

[OM!] Demon Brothers panic-buy MC a last-minute birthday present

Prompt: You drop the fact that your birthday is in a few days, much to the demon brothers’ surprise. They don’t have a gift for you prepared-- panic ensues.

Note: gender neutral; :) i just like seeing them get flustered

--

Lucifer

“Ah, your birthday? Of course I knew. You thought I didn’t?”

He didn’t know-- not until you told him just then a mere DAYS before your birthday

Internally panicking but he will NOT have you know that he missed this rather important detail

Casually asks you in the next few days if you’re free to go out with him because “he wants to spend more time with you--” which he DOES but he has ulterior motives such as hoping you’d point out something you like when you go out so he can gift it to you

Will watch your movement and gestures like a hawk trying to gauge what sort of present you would want from him

Money isn’t really a concern of him; he just wants to make sure that his gift is something you actually want and is thoughtful enough

If he’s unlucky and you are in fact NOT free in the few days leading up to your birthday, he paces a lot in his room, trying to remember if there was something you mentioned from a past conversation because he has too much pride asking you what you would want for your birthday

...but eventually caves in and asks his other brothers (probably Asmo or Beel) what they think you would like because his love for you >>> his pride

He has seared your birthdate into his mind now because he’d rather not have a repeat of whatever happened this year

--

Mammon

“Your birthday? Hahaha of COURSE I knew your birthday was in a few days… IN A FEW DAYS--?!”

He blurts this out but you tell him it’s fine but he won’t have it

He’ll try to cover it up, pretending he knew, but he sucks at lying and the fact he suspiciously walks out of your room to find a quick job listing to get enough money for a present is telling enough

First ideas most likely include rummaging in his room for anything valuable or shiny that you could possibly want

Considers giving you his car for a second in his panic but realizes you’d probably freak out at the extremely extravagant present

Will definitely try to snoop in his brothers’ rooms in search of things and collectively tells them (and makes them panic) about your birthday as well

Eventually sucks it up and works at Hell’s Kitchen, literally diving underneath counters and tables to avoid having you see him working

Terrible at making excuses to you about where he is so you probably know he’s working, and he feels bad that he has to avoid hanging out with you-- but he loves you and this is for you, after all, so he bears it

Buys you something he finds value in and thinks would like nice if you wore it; after all, the Avatar of Greed wants the best he can afford for you

--

Leviathan

You tell him your birthday is coming up soon while he’s playing something and the only thing he says first is “oh nice”

Then he realizes

“YOUR BIRTHDAY IS WHEN??”

He died on the screen, which you point out, but his eyes are wide and a little pleading

Asks you directly what you want for your birthday and he will literally search it up for you on Akuzon right there and then (it’s wild seeing online shopping on several screens)

“How about this one? Wait, no-- that’s terrible quality and the reviews are horrible; let’s check out this one.”

Makes you tell him everything you could have possibly wanted in the past few months so he can compile a list of things he can search up and select from

If he’s manic for the next few days, know that he hasn’t been gaming (has not since you dropped this very important detail) but has been vigorously searching up all the online shopping sites he can find to get the things you wanted down to its detail and quality

Definitely enlists his online friends for recommendations, but regardless will buy you matching gaming headset on top of whatever you wanted because he wants you to know you’re his Player 2, even if you don’t game

All the presents come on the same day (Mammon grumbles that it’s blocking the walkway) and he shoos you away as he carts everything up to his room to wrap it

Wishes he had more time to make you a present instead of buying something but hey there’s always next year

--

Satan

“O-Oh. Your birthday is in a few days, huh?”

Satan stares at you for a few moments too long as if he wants to say something but decides against it and gives you a benign conversation starter like “You must be excited for another year done”

Inwardly, he’s trying to calculate in his head when he has time to research for things you want, if going on a cat cafe date is too indulgent to be a gift to you, if he should just ask you what you want for a present-- all while holding a conversation with you

Not a great conversation, mind you-- you can tell he’s a little preoccupied, but you’re more worried about how his sentences trail than anything

Pops up randomly in the next few days in your room just to chat, looks around your room, and then leaves again (like a cat)

He’s trying to find a present that you’d want to use-- something practical-- but also something you’d also enjoy having (he’s setting up high standards, but he wants his gift to be good enough for you)

Low-key stressing a lot over this that he’s a little distracted at all times

Ends up combining all his gift ideas by setting up a date for you to spend some quality time with him AND buy your gift when the two of you are together AND has a gift ready for you just in case nothing catches your fancy on your date (he is anything if not prepared for all scenarios)

The gift he gets you is something he’d think you’d enjoy or reminded him of you (and hopes for the best)

--

Asmodeus

“WHY DIDN’T YOU TELL ME EARLIER?”

Asmo is almost offended that you didn’t tell him about your birthday-- how is he supposed to set up a extravagant birth week celebration if your birthday is in a few days?

But no matter-- he’s not that discouraged and is determined to rock your socks off with a present anyways, even though he would have definitely had your birthday celebration as a tag for the entire month if he had the time (now it’s only a week-long trending tag, but he’ll make do)

Will definitely coyly offer up himself as a present (and if you say yes, he will be at your mercy) but thinks he has more creativity that than to make you special day great

Takes you on a shopping spree where he dresses you up in the fanciest of clothes and things that you have always adored and refuses to let up until you let him buy you a gift

On the day of your birthday, he offers up his room as an entire spa day-- pedicure, manicure, whatever-cure you would ever want! Massage, face mask, bubble bath-- if there’s anything that can let him show how much he appreciates you, then tell him! He is at your mercy today!

Takes you out on a spin in town, buying you drinks and dancing with you at clubs if that’s what you want; but the night is yours, hun!

Beelzebub

You tell him when he’s eating something and his face morphs from surprised, delight, to sadness

“I… didn’t get you a present yet…”

You reassure him that it’s completely okay, but you know your words aren’t working because he still has that forlorn expression that reminds you of a kicked puppy

Asks you directly what you would want and if you tell him he’d be more than happy to get whatever it is you requested, even if it’s a physical gift or if you want to spend the entire day with him

It is your birthday and he already feels bad for not being able to really prepare for it properly, so he’ll do anything he can to make you happy

If you don’t tell him what you want, you better be strong enough to resist looking into his eyes to not cave into just telling what you want

Eventually settles on giving you something thoughtful and quickly hand-made-- like a set of coupons that say things such as ‘I will do your chores for a week’ or ‘I will make you dinner’

The coupon book has a lot of food-related things than anything, but you know his love language is basically food-- he loves you lots, okay?

Other than that, he’s super indulgent to you on your birthday. You want a lift? No problem. You want him to carry you bridal style to school? Sure, he can’t see why not!

--

Belphegor

“Wait, seriously? You waited until NOW to let me know?”

Kind of annoyed about the fact you dropped this detail on him now and decides to immediately punish you by trapping you in his embrace in a forced snuggle even while you laugh (so honestly, you have no regrets)

Tells you he’s not getting you a present

He’s getting you a present though, regardless of what he says, but now he has the element of surprise on his side (assuming you believe that he’s not getting you something)

Hangs out with you per usual in the next few days, paying more attention to what you would want in a present and asking low-key questions about possible gift ideas-- he’s real sneaky about it, so you honestly won’t pick up on it at all

Goes out of his way to help you study and help you out because it is your birthday, after all, and he’s pretending like he didn’t get you a present

Probably casually drops off a gift at your desk on your birthday, and if you’re surprised, he’s a little smug-- but if you’re not, he’ll be a little embarrassed but will tell you to just ‘open the present already’

Gift is most likely to be something that he’s noticed that you have continually needed but never had the thought or time to get-- just to make your life a little easier

Tells you to go nap with him as compensation for the work he’s done trying to think up of a gift for you

[farfromharry]

Just like momma | Arvin Russell fic

Summary: The Russell boy with the bad reputation is completely smitten with the girl who’s just as angel-like as everyone remembers his momma to be.

Word count - 3,435

Warnings - language

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“Arvin, stop being silly,” you huffed. He’d been going on the entire car ride about how if you didn’t like the food his Grandma was cooking then all you had to do was say. He’d already made the offer of taking you to a diner after you left to give you a ‘nicer’ meal. “I love Emma’s food, a lot of people do. There’s nothing better than a home cooked meal.”

The car finally came to a stop, Arvin leaping out and rushing around to your side so he could be a gentleman before you could even put your hand on the car door.

He threw his arm around your shoulders, pressing a kiss to your temple with a lingering smirk on his lips.

“I could name a few things,” he muttered in response to your earlier comment. You slapped his chest scoldingly, telling him not to be so mean to the woman that raised him. “‘m just kidding, baby.”

You rolled your eyes, letting him pull you closer to his chest to press kisses onto the top of your head. You wouldn’t admit it to him but you did enjoy being engulfed in his intoxicating scent.

“I guess I should say g’bye now,” he said, pulling you out of your daze. You furrowed your eyebrows, looking up at your boyfriend. He motioned with his hand to the small redhead who was running over to you, already beaming at the sight of her older brother’s girlfriend who she adored.

“Y/N!” the girl yelled, taking your hand and already stealing you away from her brother. Arvin huffed playfully, catching your eye as you were pulled over to the group of girls playing on the patch of grass opposite the Russell’s lawn.

He chuckled, shrugging his shoulders at you as you mouthed the words help me. This happened more or less every time you came over to Arvin’s home.

It’s not that you didn’t adore the eight year old, you did, but you came to spend time with all of Arvin’s family for a change.

The boy now had to go find something else to do to entertain himself while you were immersed in the world of pretend with a group of eight year olds.

He headed inside the house to the kitchen where he could already smell his grandma’s cooking, emerging in the room with a wave to his Uncle. He placed a kiss on Emma’s head as a greeting. “Hey, Grandma.”

“Hi, sweetheart.” Barely even a minute inside and she already had him setting the table for the five of them for dinner, Earskell laughing at the boy who almost had a pouty face.

He laid down the plates in the seats you all normally sat in, moving next to take the cutlery off of his Grandma.

“Where’s that pretty lady of yours?” his Uncle asked, noticing Arvin’s solo entrance that was usually accompanied by you.

“Nora’s got her again.” He let out a breathy chuckle, shaking his head like he didn’t expect any less from the child. Just like Arvin was used to it, so were all of the Russells, Lenora barely let an hour go by without bringing you up at least once in the house, especially if she hadn’t seen you for a while.

He kept sending longing looks out of the windows, looking at you and the way your skirt flowed in the wind as you chased Lenora around the grass.

Emma noticed, laughing quietly to herself.

“Go on,” she sighed, shooing him out of the door to go and save you from his minx of a sister. He did just that, rushing outside until he was by the steps of the porch. Arvin didn’t want to interrupt yet, wanting to spend a few minutes admiring you as you laughed with the group of girls. He thought you looked so pretty when you laughed, especially with the way the sunlight beamed onto your face, and the way the wind blew your hair away from your face to give him a better view, almost like it was doing it for him.

He didn’t know how long he was just there watching you with that same dumb, crooked smile on his face the entire time, but it was long enough for his Grandma to come outside with an update on dinner.

“She’s just like your momma,” Emma whispered, leaning against the doorframe, a little way behind Arvin. His big brown eyes, the ones that still resembled that little boy she remembers like yesterday, stared at her so softly.

“Really?” he asked. “I don’t really remember her.”

He sounded so sad, and it made Emma’s heart ache. She walked towards him, holding her arms out to engulf the boy in a hug. He was happy to let her, her head resting on his shoulder lovingly.

“She’s so kind, so pure.” The male couldn’t help but smile a little bit, holding the older woman’s hand against his heart while he watched you play with his younger sister.

Arvin wasn’t shy when it came to admiring you, every chance he could get his eyes on you he would. Emma found it so heartwarming to see, the boy so outwardly showing you this love and affection that had been built up inside of him since he was a child himself.

“I like her Arvy. Think she’s the perfect girl for you.”

Hearing those words from one of the most important people in his life felt like everything fell into place for him. You truly were the woman he was in love with, and he may be young but he couldn’t picture ever loving anyone as much as he did you.

His Grandma placed a kiss on his cheek, patting his arm as she turned to walk away. “Dinner’s in ten, make sure you get them both inside on time, mister.” Emma left him alone after that, heading back inside to continue her cooking.

Arvin still hadn’t taken his eyes off of you, and he wasn’t even sure he could wipe that lovesick smile off of his face.

You could feel his gaze basically burning holes into the side of your head, turning your face away from the sun to lock eyes with the pretty boy.

You flashed him a smile that made his knees weak, a blush blossoming on the apples of his cheeks.

You excused yourself from the group of girls for just a few minutes to go and see what your boyfriend wanted, jogging up the path until you were almost in his reach.

“Hi,” you mumbled, pecking his lips cheerfully. His hands drifted to the middle of your back, holding you near him so you couldn’t run away too quickly, he just wanted to hold you for a little while.

“Grandma says dinner’s in ten. Should probably start heading inside, get cleaned up,” he said. You hummed, resting your head on his chest. His large hand rubbed up and down your back, his lips finding refuge on your forehead.

“You get Lenora, I’ll help Emma?” you bargained, feeling as though you’d only get roped back into playing with the girls if you went back there.

“What if I say no?” he hummed, the corners of his lips twitching upwards into a teasing smirk. You scoffed, pulling back from his warm chest to look into those even warmer eyes.

“I mean, I could always go have dinner at Gene Dinw-“ Arvin cut you off by pressing his lips onto yours before you could even finish the guys name. You laughed into the kiss, the lovely sound making Arvin break into a grin himself.

“I’ll do it, I’ll do it,” he rambled, giving you one last kiss before he walked past you and over to his sister. After the first few times she ignored his calls he gave up trying, choosing instead to throw her over his shoulder and carry her inside himself.

You rolled your eyes at how immature he was, heading inside with an amused smile. You greeted Emma with a hug and Arvin’s Uncle with a smile, helping to dish out her cooking onto everyone’s plates.

“Arvin! Put me down,” Lenora whined, kicking her legs frantically. There was a chorus of laughs as Arvin made a rather grand entrance with the girl wiggling around on his shoulder. Your heart soared at the warm smile on his face that he always refused to show.

He let the girl back down onto her feet, receiving a scolding hit from her in response. You giggled as you watched catching your boyfriend’s eye.

“What are you giggling at, pretty girl?” You squealed as his hands grabbed your hips, pulling your back into his chest. His arms wrapped around your waist from behind, his lips meeting your cheek once before he pulled away and took his seat at the table. You pulled the cap from his head, placing it beside him on the table so he looked more presentable, messing up his hair while you were at it.

He grabbed your hand to stop you, planting a kiss onto your palm as you sat down in the seat beside him.

“Now, who wants to say the Lord’s prayer?” Emma asked. You saw Arvin roll his eyes, but a swift kick to the shin underneath the table was enough to have him quietly apologising.

“I think Arvin would,” you said, grinning widely at the boy who looked at you as if you’d just stabbed him in the back.

“I’ll get you back for that.”

»»——⍟——««

Emma gave you all a break between dinner and dessert, shooing you out of the kitchen so she could focus without Arvin constantly trying to pick at her cake mixture.

“Will you two get outta here,” she said, slapping away Arvin’s greedy hand once again. You chuckled, tugging your boyfriend away from his poor Grandma, letting her cook in peace.

“D’you wanna dance with me, darlin’,” he asked, motioning to the old, beat up record player they had. You didn’t know why Arvin was suddenly in such a good mood but you weren’t complaining. You pretended to think about it for a second, trying to hold back the smile that wanted to take over your face.

“I should really be helpin’ Emma.” He didn’t listen at all. He fiddled with one of the records, hiding it with his body so you couldn’t see the name, letting it be a surprise to you.

The sweet sounds of Lonesome Town played through the record player, filling the room with the soft voice of Ricky Nelson. Arvin looked over his shoulder with an inviting smirk settled on his lips, holding his hands out to you with a teasing shake of his hips to the beat.

You snorted, shaking your head at his sudden goofy persona. “C’mere pretty darlin’, dance with me.”

There was no way you could resist, slipping your hands into Arvin’s much larger ones. The boy pulled you into his chest, his hands laying respectively on your waist while your own snaked around his neck and weaved into the mess of hair at the nape of his neck.

Neither of you really knew how to dance, so you took to simply swaying in time to the music, your foreheads resting against each other. You could hear Arvin faintly singing along under his breath, your heart swelling at this vulnerability he was showing you.

“You ready?” he asked. You furrowed your eyebrows, your question answered before you could even ask.

You let out a loud squeal as he dipped you, holding onto you tightly so you knew he wouldn’t drop you. He pressed a chaste kiss on your lips before helping you back up to your previous stance, noses almost brushing from your close proximity.

“Almost gave a damn heart attack, Arv,” you scolded. He still had that boyish grin on his face that you wanted to wipe off. With a few pokes of his fingers to your ribs though you were laughing along with him, rolling your eyes at your immature boyfriend.

The song finished too quickly for your liking, leaving the sounds of your laughter to fill the room instead.

This was your favourite kind of moment to share with your boyfriend, those romantic gestures that no one would ever expect from the towns ‘bad boy’ Russell boy. They were the ones you held closest to your heart.

Emma’s heart was warm as she watched you both dance in her living room from where she was cleaning up in the kitchen. She wasn’t sure she’d ever seen her Grandson this happy.

“What’re you two doin’?” you heard Lenora’s curious voice before you saw her, seeing the small red haired girl peak her head out from behind her older brother.

You grinned, thinking this could be your opportunity to escape Arvin and go help Emma for a little bit, feeling bad that she’d been doing everything on her own.

“Why don’ you dance with Arvin, hunny?” you asked. He shot you a look, a small frown on his lips as the boy had the idea he was going to get to keep dancing with you, just to another song.

“Y/N,” he tried. You shook your head, watching as Lenora picked out one of the few records on the counter. He sucked it up rather than throwing a tantrum that was unnecessary.

“Arvin I, I don’t know how to dance,” she admitted, looking at her brother shyly. He still smiled down at her, guiding her feet to stand on his shoes, showing that he was going to guide her.

“That boy is completely smitten with you,” Emma whispered, flashing you a smile when she saw the way you got all shy, trying to deny her obvious statement. “And by the looks of it, it’s a two way thing.”

»»——⍟——««

“Crap, look at the time,” you whined, glancing at the clock that rested in the living room. It was much too late for you to be out away from home, your parents were going to kill you. “I should be headin’ home.”

The tired Arvin who you’d been leaning on beside you let out a grunt of protest, pulling you impossibly closer to his body. His grip tightened and you were sure he wouldn’t be letting you go anywhere tonight.

“Jus’ stay, your folks won’t mind.”

It was deeply tempting, his fingers running through your hair and his warm body cuddling yours, you didn’t really want to move at all.

You hummed. “I can’t, not again.”

“Yes you can.”

It was clear that Arvin wasn’t going to budge, so you gave in, accepting that you’d get yelled at by your momma tomorrow. The couch beneath you was growing uncomfortable though, so you were about to insist if you stay, you’re staying in his bed with him.

“Arvin?” you asked, nuzzling your cheek against his shoulder. He whispered a tired ‘yeah’, prompting you to continue. “Can we at least head to bed?”

He sighed, practically forcing his eyes open. The boy took a few minutes to regain himself and his surroundings before he actually gave you an answer to your question. “Yeah, come on.”

Like the gentleman that he is, he helped you up from your comfy position, making sure you were stable on your feet before he let go of you in any way.

His eyes landed on his younger sister who was pretty much passed out not too far away. You chuckled to yourself, noting how peaceful she looked, something you rarely got a lot of in Knockemstiff.

“You head on in, I've got her,” he promised, carefully lifting the child into his arms. You nodded your head, placing a kiss on top of Lenora’s head. “Goodnight sweetheart.”

You were off to Arvin’s room without another word, your tired body craving the boy’s soft, warm bed. It might not have been the biggest bed in the world but that meant you two had to cuddle even closer together to fit, and you loved it.

Lenora’s room was the closest to the living room so within minutes Arvin was tucking her into her bed. He sat down beside her on the bed when he noticed her eyes fluttering open, knowing the girl was gonna need at least some conversation for her to fall back to sleep.

“Arvy?” He hummed quietly, nuzzling his nose against the side of her head affectionately. “I wanna be like Y/N when I grow up.”

He felt his heart swell, looking at the girl like she’d just given him the world. It truly did mean the world to him that she loved you so much, because he completely adored you.

“Then you’ll be a great woman, Nora.” He could gush about you any day of the week, choosing to keep it short this time for the sake of the sleepy girl.

“She’s gonna be a good momma some day.” Her words managed to catch him off guard, his eyebrows furrowing slightly. “What d’you mean by that?” She yawned, covering her mouth with her hand.

“If you two ever have any babies, she’s gonna be such a good momma, just like your momma.” Arvin’s heart ached at the words coming out of his sister’s mouth. How did she know anything about Arvin’s mom? But he also blushed a little at the mention of the two of you having babies together.

It wasn’t like he hadn’t thought about it before, but picturing a tiny you and him made him feel all giddy and nervous inside.

“Like my momma?” he questioned.

“Grandma talks about her all the time, she sounds perfect,” she explained. He smiled softly, short images of the bits of his old family he could remember.

“Yeah, she was,” he trailed off. He knew he’d get emotional if he continued on talking about her, so he decided to quickly put a stop to it and let Lenora head to sleep.

“Get some sleep,” he said, placing a kiss on top of her head. He made sure the blankets were tucked right underneath her chin so she wouldn’t get cold before he turned off her lamp.

“G’night Nora.” He pushed himself up off of her bed and started heading to the door. “Goodnight Arvin.”

On his way to his room he did one check on his Grandma, making sure she didn’t need anything, before he headed straight for you.

He could see you already tucked up comfortably in his bed, assuming you’d taken the liberty to change into some of his clothes before you did so.

“What took you so long?” you whined, missing your boyfriend’s warmth. He grinned to himself, pulling his shirt off of his body.

“Was jus’ talkin’ to Nora for a little bit,” he said, slipping on a plain white shirt in place of his other one. You hummed, watching as he walked around the small room doing various things. It felt as though he was trying to avoid getting in his bed and you were growing impatient.

“Well hurry, I miss you.”

He chuckled, rolling his eyes playfully as he pulled back the covers. “You just saw me, darlin’.” You groaned, burying your head in his chest when you could, your arms snaking around his torso to hold him as close as possible to you.

“Shut up.”

“‘s not very nice.” This time it was you rolling your eyes. The idea of sleep began to seem more and more appealing to you, letting your eyes flutter shut as any chatter between you and Arvin died down.

It was quiet for a little while, the whole was dead quiet, and Arvin didn’t know if you were asleep or awake as he traced small circles and patterns on your hip with his thumb.

“I love you, Y/N, so damn much. D’you know that?” Your head was tucked under his chin, allowing you to press a chaste kiss to the skin of his neck, a sign that you were still awake; but barely.

“I do,” you said, breath fanning over his warm skin. You felt his hand glide up until his fingers were threading through your hair, the boy planting a kiss on your hairline. “I love you too, Arvin.”

He waited for you to fall asleep after that, he always waited for you to fall asleep. There was something about knowing you were completely calm and safe that relaxed him.

He felt how your breathing was much more even and your body basically melted into him, all signs that you were out for the night. “Sweet dreams, darlin’.”

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arvin russell taglist → @seutarose @theliterarymess @call-me-baby-gir1 @icyhollands @siriuslyslyslytherin @itstaskeen @tpwk-grande @zspideyy @spideyssunshine @hollandcrush @wizkiddx @sannie-san-shine @sonnydoesrandomshit @hopeless-romantic-baby @thehumanistsdiary @dummiesshort @itsbieberxholland @lillucyandthejets @piscesparker @bvttercupbby @mymilliefrommarketing @spideyspeaches @felicityparkers @quxxnxfhxll @captainamirica @tomsirishgirlx @lou-la-lou @tayyx @bora-world @annathesillyfriend @whoeveniskendall @hollandswife @sunwardsss @dhtomholland @bi-lmg @just-lost-inbetween-worlds @magicalxdaydream

[cuddlesslut]

Part One :Home

Atsumu x Reader(fem)

Summary: Atsumu Miya had always been your home. But what if things changed

Tags: Fluff, Angst, cheating

2k words

Part Two: Silence

Atsumu Miya showed you the most love and care. Being with him felt like you were home. And it’s funny because in the beginning you wanted absolutely nothing to do with the setter.

———

Seeing his hords of fan girls crowding his desk every morning made you want to gag mainly because it interfered with you claiming your own seat. Everyday it was the same when you were in high school. You’d make your way to class only to find you seat inaccessible. After finally being able to shoo away the path to your desk just in time for class to start you’d deal with Atsumu incessant chattering or what he’d refer to as flirting. You honestly didn’t understand how he thought those lame lines would work on anyone. But every class with out fail he’d always have some lame line to spew at you. It made no sense in your eyes why you out of the sea of girls and some boys he could pick from why did he have his sights set on you.

You paid no mind in the beginning rolling you eyes at all his advances. You figured it was just some game to him it’s not like any of what he said genuine at least not to you. Apparently the volleyball player thought these attempts were the most romantic things ever when he finally cornered you after class one.

“ Aye I have been trying my best to get your attention for the last month,” he said as he laid his hand on your desk trapping you in your place, “What’s y’er deal?” You cocked you head to the side in disbelief. Moving his arm to the side you stood straightening you paper to put in you bag. Turning back to face him.

“Miya-San you can’t actually expect me to believe that was your “best effort” in trying to win my affection” you chuckled. Atsumu there with a look of confusion dawning his (what you couldn’t deny) extremely handsome face. Decided to cut your fellow second year some slack you continued. “None of your lines were meaningful, you showed no authentic interest in me,” you gave him a soft smile starting to make your way out of the class room. You stopped at the door turning and presenting him with a wicked smile “ it won’t be that easy, make sure to give it y’er all next.” And with that you we’re gone leaving him in disbelief he’d never been turned down before. He gave a small laugh to no one but himself as he decided in that moment he’d do everything to make you his.

Sure enough he put his all into trying to win your heart. While he wasn’t rude to his fan girls he definitely didn’t indulge them as much which eased your morning commute to your desk. Next were the notes he would leave. The first few were longer and almost made you want to laugh your ass off they were his love letter to you that you could tell he tried to make sound poetic. ( failing epically) but still you send him a small smile and a nod in acceptance. The other were little notes, some stating small facts about what he liked about you or little jokes about the day. Next was the gifts he would leave you. Once it was a small flower, another time a candy bar, most recently a delicious piece of milk bread. All of these little tokens definitely grabbed your heart but the moment you knew you had fallen for him was the day after you came back to school after having a cold. After sitting in your seat next to him you saw him rummage through his bag he turned to you and present you with all the notes he had taken for you through your absence. Seeing this boy who’s mind only ever focus on volleyball and cared little for his own grade do this broke down all your wall. You stared at the notes for a moment before leaning over and place a small kiss to his cheek. A blush crept up both of you faces. And from that moment forward you were his.

———

But that was then. It was now six years later and not only was Atsumu Miya your home he was also your fiancé. You had each been there for each other through everything. You were there through nationals and comforted him through his loss. You were there with him to celebrate every win. He stood by you side as you stared college and you stayed by his side as he joined the professional league. Through the years you had your highs and lows but your love for him never wavered. Not through the distance his job would bring and the scheduling conflict with your schooling and his training. In the end none of that mattered to you because you were his and he was yours. The nights you spent in each other’s arm were the best thing you could have ever wished for.

As of recently though even if he was your home. You were beginning to feel less like his. It started with small things like extra practice which wasn’t anything you werent used to Atsumu had the habit of over working himself. You don’t say anything yet because you knows he gotten better and knows his limits. It progresses to though he’s becoming more distant always heading straight to bed after meals.

“Hey Tsumu wanna watch a movie tonight?” You smile weakly from the couch.

“Not tonight YN I’m really tired,” he reply’s placing a small kiss on your forehead as he head to bed.

It doesn’t stop there although you wish it would. He starts being out later claiming to have extra practice. But you notice the smell of alcohol on his breath when he climbs into bed believing you are asleep. And honestly you wish you would be alseep so maybe some nights you wouldn’t see the signs. The next clue was when he now put a lock on his phone. Something he had never done before. But still you don’t question him. The “late practices” become more frequent and it more often he gone than when he’s around.

Part of you wants to complain to you friends but for one your friends were his friends after spending so long together it’s hard for your lives not to be connected in such ways and two if you do it will make it all to real. You aren’t stupid. You know the truth you know the one reasons you both haven’t been intimate lately is because his body has marks on it from another. You realized that when you had gone into the bathroom real quick while he was showering. It was the tiniest glance but you still saw the scratches on his back that weren’t left by you. Yet you still say nothing and you doubt he realizes you saw them.

You aren’t ready for this to be real. You aren’t ready for your home to be gone. Tomorrow is your birthday and your hoping that this will be it . Tomorrow you will both spend the day together like you used to you’ll laugh and smile everything will be right. Everything will go back to the way it was. Even though deep down you know the truth. And the truth is that you’ve cried yourself to sleep every night the past month wondering where you went wrong. Wondering how you weren’t good enough. Wondering what you should have done to make him stay. But he’s never home to see those tear you cry.

The next morning you wake and go to start some breakfast leaving Atsumu in bed. You wonder when he got home but you know it doesn’t matter. You hear the shower start as you made your coffee. Shortly after the setter appears wearing his training clothes and his duffel bag packed. “ I’m heading to the gym,” he states giving you a quick peck to the temple before heading to the door. Those little kisses always cause your heart to squeeze in hope. He doesn’t wait for a response as he leaves. A sigh leaves you lips as you realize he hadn’t said anything to you about your birthday. You shake your head and fool yourself into thinking he’ll surprise you later.

You continued you day getting little birthday messages from friends and family. Osamu had a box of Onigiri sent to you for lunch with a note saying Happy Birthday. You have a nice call with your best friend Suna and he tells you he’ll come see you soon to celebrate. You were on the phone with Suna longer than you expected seeing the time now said 5:37. After ending the call you see one missed messaged from Tsmu 💕 : practicing late tonight don’t wait up.

You heart stops. He really forgot. You really mean that little that he forgot your birthday. It was the final straw. Although part of your body wanted to break down into sobs you remained calm as though working on auto pilot. Slowly you make your way to your room grabbing your luggage and started packing all of your essentials and anything you couldn't bare to leave behind not knowing if you’d have the courage to return. After finally loading your car it was now 7:20. You knew you shouldn’t that you’d only get hurt more but you pulled out your phone and did something you never could bring yourself to do before. You checked his location. A chuckle leaves your lips as you see he’s at your favorite restaurant. The one you both loved so much and had spent countless anniversaries dinners at. Not thinking you run back into your condo that you shared with the twin. You dug to the back of you closest and quickly change into one of your favorite dresses. Your hair was already nice and you didn’t need much make up so as you finished getting ready you left. Heading straight to the restaurant.

You can’t say for sure what cause you to want to go there. Maybe a small part of yourself needed to see it. But sure enough you can’t mistake that yellow hair sitting toward the back of the restaurant is your fiancé with another woman. His back is to you and her attention is all on him enraptured in whatever garbage he’s spewing. In that moment a calm rage settles over you. You look at the hostess and requested a table a little ways away from them one where your still out of his view. As you sit you place an order for a glass of wine still setting up how you want to approach this. Then an daring thought crosses your mind. You called for your waitress.

“Excuse me but you see that couple over there,” you said motioning towards them. “Yes ma’am” she nods. “Well that’s my best friend over there and I really love to do something nice for them it’s their birthday!” The waitress smiles as you explain your plan. You sit and wait as you sip your wine when finally the waitress walks over to their table.

“Hi” the waitress greets them before setting down the dessert. A look of confusion crosses their faces and you can’t help but grin. Atsumu smiles politely before looking down at the cake. His smile drops immediately as he read the cake “Happy Birthday YN”. You giggle as you see the panic in his eyes. “I’m sorry we didn’t order this,” the unknown woman states to the waitress. You can see the waitress smile as she points to your table an explains your friend ordered it for you. You not quite sure how to explain the emotions written on Atsumu’s face as he watches you walk up the table.

“Y-YN,” he stutters. You can see the look of confusion on the girls face and for moment you feel sorry for her maybe she was just as clueless as you. “Hi Tsmu,” you smile leaning over to take a bite of your birthday cake. “Mmm Chocolate, delicious,” you smiled before looking him dead in the eyes as you removed your engagement ring and dropped it in his glass of champagne. “You can have this back,” you state bitterly before turning around and handing your waitress a big bill to cover your drink the cake and a nice tip. You start to walk of as you hear him call for you. But you refuse to turn back. You know your moment of strength is fading and you won’t let him see you tears. So you keep walking straight to you car and drive away. Not sure where to go. You just left your home.

This my first time writing angst and also my fist time writing in a while.

Also unedited

Home Masterlist

[verai-marcel]

Serendipitous Meetings (Arthur x GN!Reader, Modern AU, 18+)

Summary: You foolishly didn’t mark where you parked in the huge parking structure, and spend some time looking for your car. You run into a fellow who did the same thing, and things get ridiculously serendipitous from there.

Author’s Notes: How many tropes can I shove into this fic? Let’s face it, I just wanted to have Arthur fuck like the manly man that he is. Also going for gender neutral as much as possible, so all my readers who want a piece of Arthur can have him.

Tags: Arthur x GN!Reader, smut, light D/s tones, size kink, light spanking, neck grabbing, rough sex, dirty talk, modern AU

AO3 Link is here, li’l darlin’.

Word Count: 3764

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"Shit."

You let out a long suffering sigh as you looked around the packed parking structure. In your rush to meet your friends, you had forgotten to take a photo of where you parked. Now you stared at the large expanse of cars, racking your brain for at least a slight memory of how you got to the venue entrance from your car. 

Sticking your hand into your pocket, you gripped your phone for a moment before letting it go. You had already shooed your friends away, insisting you had parked nearby and could get to your spot no problem. Swallowing your pride, you started to search the rows for the off-white bucket of bolts you dared to call your car. 

After searching one floor, you trudged up the stairs to the next one, stopping a few steps past the landing to gaze upon the hundreds of cars before you. You faintly heard another set of steps coming down the stairwell, but you were so mired in your own despair that you didn't pay the sound any mind. 

"Shit," said a gravelly voice next to you. 

Glancing over, a very broad set of shoulders filled your view. Your eyes flicked over the red and black flannel shirt and blue jeans, with an almost hilariously large belt buckle. Then you looked up. 

Oh no. He was gorgeous, in a rugged, manly-man sort of way. That chiseled jaw, the five o’clock shadow, that thick neck… he was the kind of man who could probably pick you up and throw you over his shoulder with ease. You were so busy staring at him in tired awe that he finally noticed you.

A pair of turquoise eyes met yours. "Sorry," the man said. "Can't find my truck."

It took you half a second to remember to respond. Then you gave him an empathic half-grin. "I can't find my car either."

He pointed upstairs. "What's yer car look like? Maybe I saw it up there."

You shook your head. "It's just a generic off-white Toyota Corolla."

The man shrugged. "Oh. Well, sorry darlin', there's a bunch of those up there."

You sighed, lamenting the fact that your car was one of the most popular cars out on the road these days. You also secretly enjoyed him calling you darling with that accent of his. He sounded like he had just stepped out of a spaghetti western. 

"Maybe I saw your truck downstairs, if it stands out," you said, trying to be helpful. 

"It's a blue Chevy pick-up. Really old, like one o' them classic trucks, 'cept it ain't been cleaned up like the ones you see in a car show."

Your memory flashed with the image of a dirty blue truck in your apartment complex's garage. You stifled a laugh at the thought. You had always wondered who drove the old thing, since you had never seen its owner. 

"Nope, I didn't see a truck like that downstairs," you told him. 

"Oh. Well, guess we better start lookin'," he said. He looked at you for a moment, opened his mouth, then closed it again.

You waited.

“Maybe,” he finally said, “maybe we could look together? For a bit. Keep each other company.”

“Okay,” you said easily. Part of your brain screamed that it could be really easy for him to just pull you into his car, but you dismissed the voice in your head. He seemed alright; you had a good feeling about this guy.

The two of you took off towards the left side of the structure. Putting your remote under your chin and hoping it would actually increase its range, you hit the button on occasion. 

“Uh, what’re you doin’?” he asked, pointing at your remote.

“Oh, I read about this online, someone figured out that you can use your own head as an antenna, or something like that.”

The man raised an eyebrow, but eventually just nodded. “Huh, I guess that makes sense.”

You shrugged. “Haven’t tested it before this, so I’m hoping it actually works.”

The two of you wandered further and further towards the center when finally you heard that familiar beep. 

*BEEP BEEP*

He chuckled. “Guess it works.”

You had never been so happy to hear that annoying little buzzer of a horn. You took off at a jog without waiting for the man, going towards where you had heard the sound, and as you turned a corner, you spotted it. 

It was the big, old, blue truck from your apartment complex. 

No way, you thought. There is no way. Maybe it's a similar truck. 

Going back, you saw the man wandering around, still searching. 

"Hey Mister!" you yelled. 

He turned towards you. 

You excitedly pointed towards the truck. "This yours?" 

He started walking to you, and as he came closer, you could see the smile on his face and felt your heart skip a beat. 

"Thank you," he said, stopping in front of you. "Where’s your car?"

You grinned and hit your unlock button. The little off-white sedan next to his truck let out a little beep, the lights coming on. 

"Wish I had one of those," he said wistfully. "Sure woulda made my life easier." He looked at you with a small smirk as he opened the door to his truck. "But then I wouldn’t have met you. Thanks fer your help, angel."

You smiled, feeling your cheeks warm from his comment. "No problem." You struggled to find anything else to say, feeling pathetically desperate to hear him speak more. "Have a good night," you finally said. 

"You too," he said, his voice a little lower, a little more breathy as he hauled himself into his truck and closed the door. Now that you had a pretty good feeling that he was a decent guy and not a creep, you half-wished he really would pull you into his truck and have his way with you. 

Shaking the lewd thought from your head, you got into your car and set up your phone to listen to a podcast as you drove home. You eased your way out of the garage, through the local roads, and onto the freeway. For the next thirty minutes, you would spot the same blue truck out of the corner of your eye. Sometimes you’d pass him, sometimes he’d pass you. 

Maybe it’s a different blue truck, you tried to convince yourself.

You couldn’t convince yourself any further when you pulled into your apartment complex right behind him. He parked at his usual spot, three away from yours. Climbing out of your car, you saw him walk towards you.

“You followin’ me?” he asked gruffly, though the grin on his face clearly showed his amusement at the coincidence.

“I can’t believe we live in the same complex,” you muttered, still in shock that you had never seen this handsome man before. “How long have you lived here?”

“Oh, ‘bout two years now.”

“Shit,” you thought to yourself.

“Why’re you cursin’?”

Oh crap. You said that out loud. “I, uh, um,” you stammered.

He quietly watched you, letting you stew in your own embarrassment, an amused grin on his face. The bastard was enjoying watching you squirm!

Feeling your face heat up, you blurted out the truth.

“We could’ve known each other sooner!”

It was an unfortunate tick in your personality that you had never managed to get rid of, and now, watching his eyes widen at your embarrassing remark, you wished the sidewalk would just open up and swallow you whole. But since that wasn’t going to happen, you opted to turn around and stalk away.

“Hey now, wait, you can’t just say that and leave,” the man said, jogging to catch up to you. When you wouldn’t stop walking, he swerved in front of you, forcing you to stop mere millimeters from him. You noticed how big he was, how little you were in comparison. You weren’t a small person by any means, he was just… large.

“Why’re you runnin’ away, darlin’?” he asked, his voice hushed as if he was trying to calm a wild animal. Perhaps with the way you acted, you seemed that way to him.

You took a deep breath, accidentally inhaling his scent, a mix of pine trees and a subtle hint of campfire smoke and musk that made you want to bury your face in his chest and stay there. Desire shot straight between your legs, reminding you that it had been a long time since you’d been with anyone. Letting out a shaky breath, you made the poor choice of looking up at him.

You were blinded by his kind smile and seduced by his deep voice. “Do you want to know me?” he asked quietly. 

“Yes, I do,” you answered immediately.

He pointed to his apartment. “I live there. Want to share some whiskey?"

You paused. He was a stranger. 

A stranger with beautiful eyes and the sweetest smile you had ever seen. 

You followed him willingly into his den. 

***

You blinked after he turned on the lights. When your vision cleared, your expectations were, fortunately, not met at all.

You had expected a bachelor pad with junk everywhere and clothing on the floor. What you saw was a clean and neat living room with a simple couch and a TV on top of a small entertainment center that held a few blu-rays and a blu-ray player. The short table in front of the couch had a plate on it, a smudge of ketchup and some crumbs on it, and a glass with a little bit of water left.

The man went to pick up after himself, putting the dirty dishes in the sink before going to his pantry. His kitchen looked pretty bare, except for the dried herbs, tied up in bunches under his cabinets. 

While he shuffled around bottles, you went to sit on his couch, but not before pausing for a moment to look through the door to his bedroom. He had a bed that looked big and comfy, his sheets somewhat askew but otherwise in place. Didn’t look like there were any clothes or boxes lying around anywhere. So either the man was tidy, or he didn’t own a lot of things.

“Curious li’l one, ain’tcha?” he chuckled behind you.

Spinning around, you could only give him a sheepish grin. “Yup, sorry. I couldn’t help myself.”

He smiled and gave you a tumbler of amber liquid with a giant sphere of ice. “Curiosity like that could get you in trouble one day,” he said mysteriously, gesturing towards the couch.

You raised an eyebrow, but sat down anyway. You took a sip of the ice cold whiskey, enjoying its slow burn down your throat. It was smooth and sweet. “This is fantastic, what is it?”

“It’s a blackberry flavored whiskey,” he replied as he settled himself on the couch, a little closer to you than you had expected. “I thought you might like it.”

“Oh?” You leaned in a little closer. “And why is that?”

“Somethin’ a li’l sweet fer a li’l sweetheart,” he said with a grin. He knew he was being schmaltzy, but you didn’t care. You were eating up his words, spoken with that deep rumble that went right between your legs.

You continued to sip and make small talk with him until your ice had melted and the late night had become the witching hour. But he didn’t seem to mind, and you wanted to stay.

“You got a bit o’ whiskey here,” he said as he leaned in and reached for the corner of your lips, his thumb catching the drop that had escaped your last sip. You flicked out your tongue to catch him, and your eyes met. A heartbeat passed. The whiskey gave you strength.

Taking his hand in yours, you surged forward and kissed his lips, tasting whiskey and his woodsy scent. A low moan came from deep within him, but he did not reach for you. His hands gripped the cushions as he let you take the lead, climbing into his lap and wrapping your arms around him, your fingers kneading his broad shoulders. You kissed the breath from him, desperate to feel him against you.

When you finally broke away for air, you stared at his eyes, now filled with lust and longing, and realized you didn’t even know his name. 

He came to the same conclusion. “What’s yer name, darlin’?”

You told him.

He nodded and repeated your name. It sounded so good when he said it. “Feels nice to say it out loud,” he said. “I’m Arthur,” he added as he wrapped his arms around you and held you tenderly. “How far do you want to go?”

“All the way,” you said, grinding your hips against his groin, making him take a shuddered breath.

Without a word, he picked you up and carried you to his big, comfy bed. He dropped you unceremoniously and took off his shirt.

He was ripped. He was built like a man who had worked all his life in a physical job, carrying & lifting. With his tall stature, his broad shoulders, and his huge arms, he made you feel small.

You had never been more aroused in your whole life. 

Your body was ready to be thoroughly fucked by this man, and you hadn’t even taken your clothes off yet. You watched hungrily as he undid his belt and dropped his jeans & boxers, your eyes taking in his size. He wasn’t even at full mast yet, and you already wondered if you’d be able to take him all in.

“Your turn, darlin’.”

Taken out of your trance, you took off your clothes as he watched. You started at a normal pace, but when you saw him take himself in his hand and stroke himself while watching you with a lustful gaze, you slowed down, making an attempt to tease him. Already topless, you lay back on the bed and lifted your legs up, sliding your pants upwards. Slowly, you exposed your ass to him, winking salaciously.

He stroked himself a little faster. A soft moan escaped his lips. “Darlin’, yer makin’ it real hard fer me to stay in control here.”

You glanced down at him. “I can see it’s real hard,” you said with a playful smirk.

“Oh, yer goin’ ta get it now,” he said, his grin becoming predatory as he climbed onto the bed. Grabbing the rest of your clothes, he pulled them from you, flinging them over his shoulder before flipping you onto your belly. He gripped your ass and squeezed hard before giving you a firm spank.

“Ooh!” you yelped. 

“You want more?” he asked as his hand soothed over his mark.

You could tell he was asking for permission. Turning back to him, you gave him your best pouty face. “Does Sir think I need more?”

Arthur looked immensely pleased with your response. “I think so,” he said, his voice deepening with a thread of command that turned you on beyond belief. He straddled your legs and rested one hand on the curve of your ass. “I told you, curiosity would get you in trouble.”

He spanked you hard once more. “That’s fer sneakin’ glances into my room,” he said. He gave you three more swipes, each in slightly different areas so you wouldn’t get too sore. Then he grabbed your ass with both hands and massaged your muscles, spreading you open as he thrust his cock along the cleft of your rear.

“Yer so obedient, sweetheart,” he murmured as his hips rocked, his eyes fluttering shut for a few moments. Then with his strong grip, he manhandled you onto your back, wrapping his big hands around you and pulling you into his arms. He cradled you for a sweet, gentle moment before rolling you around like you were as light as a pillow before setting you back down onto the mattress. He leaned over you as he reached for the nightstand, pulling out a condom. You watched him slip it on, but he didn’t move to enter you. Instead, he reached down and began to stroke you as he loomed above, watching your reactions.

You moaned and writhed under his deliberate exploration. His hands traveled languidly along every inch of you. When he found a sensitive area that elicited a soft noise of pleasure from you, he lingered, making you whimper and lean into his touch. He finally touched you lower, where you longed for his attention, but to your frustration he continued his study at the same leisurely pace. Soon his strokes became faster and he pressed harder against you. His eyes nearly glowed as he watched you lift your hips towards his hands, imploring him for more. Using his new knowledge to his advantage, he brought you to the brink and then shifted his touch elsewhere, making you cool off before working you back up again until you were going insane with need.

“Please, please Arthur, I need to come,” you begged.

He only smiled as he slipped a finger inside of you. He slowly worked you open enough for two of his fingers, then three. Soon he was dragging you to the edge again, and you hadn’t even had his cock. You were feeling like you were being denied the thing you wanted most.

“Arthur,” you whispered, “I want your cock.”

“Louder, darlin’.”

“I want your cock!”

“And what do you want me to do with it?”

“Fuck me!”

“Say it again. All of it.”

“Fuck me with your cock!”

His smile was wolfish, satisfied that he had heard you beg for your desire. Pressing the head of his shaft against your opening, he pushed, easing his way inside of you.

You were right. He was big, long, and oh so thick. He stretched you deliciously, and you keened softly as he took you, claimed you, made you his in the most carnal of ways. He reached up and slipped his hand under your head, gripping your hair at the base and pulling slightly. 

“Eyes on me, darlin’. I want to see you while I’m takin’ you,” he murmured.

You couldn’t look away from him. His look was intense, as if he commanded your entire being, your body his to use for his pleasure. And you willingly gave it to him, letting him sheathe his entire length inside of you. He held you still while your body adjusted to his claim, watching you with an almost proud expression.

“Good li’l darlin’,” he said as he leaned over. He kissed you gently on the lips, then on the forehead, and as if he was overcome with affection for you, peppered kisses along the curve of your cheek and down your neck.

“I’m goin’ to fuck you now,” he whispered into your ear. “You tell me to slow if it’s too much for ya, alright?”

You nodded, sure that whatever he was about to do to you, you could handle it.

He lifted himself up onto his forearms, his hands framing your face. “You look so damn cute,” he murmured before his hips slowly pulled back. “So fuckable.”

Arthur slammed his cock deep inside of you with one forceful stroke. He immediately looked down at you when you let out a cry of surprise. He waited, quietly checking in.

“More,” you whispered.

You thought you saw relief cross his features before he gave you a teasing smirk. “Ask me nicely and I just might give it to ya.”

“Please sir,” you begged, “I need more.”

Arthur gave you a single nod before rocking his hips, building you up slowly, his gaze nearly burning a hole into you with their intensity. As your body stretched and accommodated him, you clawed at his arms, greedily clamoring for him to speed up. He let out a feral growl before wrapping a big, rough hand around your neck, his other hand gripping your leg and spreading you wider for him. 

"You think you can take more, darlin'?" 

You looked up at him and smiled a challenge. 

He began a ferocious pace, angling himself to take you as deep as he could go. All you could focus on was the impact of his body against yours, his thick shaft filling you over and over, unrelenting as a tidal wave.

Soon he let go of your neck so he could sit up and grip your hips with both of his hands. He was fucking the breath out of you with each hard thrust, the sound of his hips slamming against yours filling the room with a lewd rhythm, intertwined with your breathy cries and his low moans of pleasure.

He reached down and stroked you, his touch rough and vigorous, matching the way he was ravaging you in a haze of lust. You could feel yourself sprinting towards that delicious finish line. The end was in sight as your hips jerked wildly, your legs wrapping around Arthur as he thrust even harder and deeper than before. 

"Come fer me," he murmured. "I want to feel you lose yerself around my cock."

You screamed as his words broke the dam that was holding back a torrent of pleasure, your climax tearing through your body at breakneck speed. Your legs stiffened, your toes curled, and your fingers dug into his very muscled biceps as you came harder than you ever had. You shook with aftershocks as Arthur continued to thrust, his hands letting go of your hips as he fell upon his forearms, caging you in as he chased his pleasure. 

"Fuck sweetheart, I'm comin'," he moaned before he buried his head into the crook of your neck. He gave three more erratic thrusts, then nearly crushed you with his weight as he pressed his hips against yours, keeping himself inside of you for as long as he could. 

A breathless moment passed, the two of you trying to catch that elusive breath. Arthur rolled off of you, quickly gathering you into his arms as he tumbled onto his side. 

"Goddamn," he finally muttered. "Wasn't expectin' to have such good company."

You turned in his arms so you could see the wide grin on his face. "For once, I'm glad I got lost in the parking lot."

He kissed your forehead. "Me too, darlin'. But let's make sure we don't get lost again." He found your hands under the covers, brought them up to his lips, and kissed your fingertips. 

"After all, I only just found you, my li'l darlin'."

--------------------

End Notes: Been a while, and of course, all of my pent-up lust just came streaming out of me in a flurry of words and phrases. Hope it’s still hot enough for you, my lovely readers!

[fruitcoops]

I was wondering if I could request something? Maybe Sirius' first night at the Dumais' place and Dumo can straight away tell that somethings wrong. Sirius makes polite conversation and it all looks so painful until he retires for the night and Dumo passes by his room and he hears Sirius crying maybe? Because of what his mother said, and maybe because he has trouble adjusting to new situations? Just an idea that popped into my head :) Only if you want to write it <3 Thank you

Yes, I can! I love writing Dumo, but for some reason I don't do it that often--his and Sirius' dynamic is just so wholesome and wonderful. SW credit goes to @lumosinlove!

TW for implied child abuse and broken glass (no injury)

The first thing Pascal Dumais noticed about Sirius Black was how quiet he was. At only eighteen years old, Sirius was taller than most of the other Lions, with broad shoulders and gangly limbs. Yet he moved almost silently, padding along the wood floors in his socks and speaking only when spoken to. It was…honestly, a bit unsettling.

Dumo had expected a rambunctious teenage boy, still high on the thrill of being drafted to the NHL—instead, he found himself the guardian-slash-landlord of a ghost. Sirius unloaded his meager belongings with little fuss and accepted no help, his pale eyes never lingering on either of them for too long.

Celeste poked her head into the living room in the early afternoon when they returned from the grocery store; Sirius was sitting ramrod straight in the smallest chair they had with a thick book in his hands. She knocked gently on the doorframe, and he jumped. “Sirius, would you like some lunch?”

“I don’t want to be any trouble,” he said in that unusually soft voice.

“It’s no trouble,” she assured him.

“I can make myself a sandwich if you have other things to do. Really, I’m alright.”

“When was the last time you ate?”

Sirius blinked, as if he hadn’t expected her to ask, then glanced at the clock on the wall. “I had breakfast at seven and a granola bar on the plane.”

“Sirius, it’s almost two.”

“Is it?”

“Come with me for a moment, oui?” She ushered him into the kitchen; Dumo wasn’t sure he would ever get used to seeing someone so physically imposing walk so small.

“Papa?” Someone tugged on the hem of his shirt and he snapped out of his daze, leaning down to lift Adele into his arms with a smile.

“Bonjour, mon chou! Did you have fun outside?” She nodded, wiggling a little in her excitement, and put her hands on either side of his face. Dumo’s stomach sank. “Why are your hands wet?”

“I washed them!”

“Why?”

“Because we played with chalk!”

Both the boys were at day camp, and Katie was down for her afternoon nap. Dumo wracked his brain. “Who were you playing with?”

“Sirius!” she giggled, then held the front of her shirt out. Wasn’t she wearing a different one this morning?“An’ he said chalk stains, so he lifted me up so I could wash my hands and helped me get my new shirt on when it got stuck and let me braid his hair! Can we keep him? Please, Papa, I wanna keep him forever!”

Dumo kissed her forehead as a wave of emotion tickled the back of his throat. Less than six hours in their home, and Sirius was already connecting with his children. “Oui, we can. Did you say thank you?”

Adele bit her lower lip. “I don’t remember.”

“Sirius?” Dumo called. The clanking in the kitchen stopped. “Can you come here for a moment?”

There was a beat of silence before he appeared in the doorway, looking paler than before as he walked over to them. This boy needs to eat more, the parental part of Dumo’s brain thought instantly. Slate-grey eyes flickered between them. “She—she had chalk on her shirt. I’m sorry, I should have asked.”

“It’s alright. What do you say?” Dumo asked, turning to Adele.

She turned a beaming smile on Sirius. “Thank you!”

His whole face softened in the blink of an eye and he smiled back, giving her a light fist bump. “Pas de problem, petit papillon.”

-------------------------------

Sirius opened up a bit over lunch; Adele perched herself right in his lap with her peanut butter sandwich to his clear astonishment, but his smiles came easier after that and Dumo treasured each one. He was already grateful that Sirius did not seem like the type of asshole player that Dumo remembered from his high school years.

Marc and Louis returned to the house just as they finished, and though Sirius offered to help wash the dishes—the boy was a blessing, really—they shooed him off to play with the kids for a while. It would do them all some good to get out in the sun.

“Quiet, isn’t he?” Celeste remarked as they stood side-by-side at the sink. Her tone was casual, but Dumo saw the worry in her eyes.

He hummed in agreement. “He’s probably just nervous, mon amour. They can take a while to warm up.”

“Pascal, I don’t think—”

The sound of shattering glass echoed from the other room. The house held its breath. “Is everyone alright?” Dumo called, drying his hands on the nearest towel as his pulse picked up. “What happened?”

Hushed whispers floated out, followed by the pitter-patter of little feet. He hurried down the hall with Celeste hot on his heels. “I’m so sorry,” Sirius said as they entered the room. He was kneeling on the wood floor, gathering fragments of a small water glass in one palm. “It was my fault. I hit it with my elbow.”

Celeste frowned. “Boys? Adele? I know you were here.”

Dumo didn’t miss Sirius’ hard swallow, nor the sudden nervousness—no, that was fear—on his face as the three kids crept out from around the corner, looking guiltier than anything. Adele stepped forward, but Sirius stood in a smooth, instinctive motion, keeping her behind him. “It was my fault,” he repeated. Dumo’s heart sank.

“Adele, is that true?”

She looked up toward Sirius, who kept his broad hand ever so slightly in front of her shoulder. Celeste raised an eyebrow. “Adele Marie, tell the truth.”

“No,” she said.

“Come here, please.” Dumo watched Sirius’ breaths go shallow as Celeste beckoned to Adele, but confusion took its place when she crouched to her level. “Thank you. What Sirius did was very nice, but we don’t let other people take the fall for our mistakes in this house, Adele. We accept responsibility. Who broke the cup?”

“I was chasing Marc and we both bumped into the table,” Adele confessed, toying with the hem of her butterfly-patterned shirt. “It was an accident, I promise.”

“Did anyone get hit by the glass?” Dumo asked. All three shook their heads. “Sirius?”

He cleared his throat. “No, Mr. Dumais.”

“Marc, Adele, I want you to find the broom and dustpan so your mother and I can clean this up. Thank you for being honest. Sirius, there’s a trash can in the kitchen, but be careful of the sharp edges. And please, call me Pascal or Dumo.”

But he didn’t stop thinking about the visible alarm on Sirius’ face when Celeste brought Adele forward all afternoon. Something was not right.

--------------------------------

If it wasn’t for the baby, Dumo would not have heard it.

Katie woke around midnight with a quiet whine, which devolved into whimpering, and finally into full-out sobbing for over half an hour. He carried her downstairs so she wouldn’t wake the others and gently rocked her, humming lullabies under his breath until his throat was dry and her tears abated. “There’s my good girl,” he murmured, drying her pudgy cheeks with his sleeve.

The last bits of sleep faded away as he set her down in her crib again, and he sighed. The season didn’t start for more than a month, but he had been looking forward to a few consecutive nights of solid rest before then.

May as well check on the others, he thought, wandering down the hallway in his thickest socks and bathrobe to stave off the nighttime chill. Marc and Louis were each out cold; he took the open book splayed across Marc’s bed and set it on his dresser, turning the lamp off as he left. Adele was curled into a tight ball around no less than four of her precious stuffed animals and he tucked the blankets back over her shoulder.

Dumo’s feet carried him down the stairs before his brain fully caught up, and he paused—Sirius had been in their house for a single day, and already he had the urge to look out for him. The thought should have made him feel silly, but instead he felt…peaceful. He felt right. There was a lost and near-silent boy in his home, who protected his kids within hours of knowing them. Of course Dumo was going to make sure he was alright.

Summer wind rushed past the wide windows as he headed toward the basement. It was warmer there, and he took a moment to mentally pat himself on the back for remodeling two years prior. Hopefully, Sirius would be comfortable.

A soft sound broke through his thoughts. Dumo stopped on the last step.

There was a harsh breath, then a sniffle, as if the person inside was trying and failing to keep their tears in past the point of no return. He heard a few shaky, weak inhales, then a choked noise that cut off abruptly with a gulp.

Dumo closed his eyes to hold back tears of his own and knocked lightly on the bedroom door.

Everything went silent with a rustle.

“Sirius?” he whispered, raising his voice just enough to be heard through the door. “Are you awake?”

There was no answer.

“Can I come in?” he ventured.

An unsteady voice answered. “Ouais.”

The door creaked a little as he opened it and stepped into the dark room. Sirius was nothing more than a clump of shadows on the far side of the bed, squished tight against the wall with all his blankets wrapped around him. “What happened?”

“Nothing. Je vais bien.”

“Can I sit?” Dumo fully expected Sirius to tell him ‘no’, to make an excuse, to pull some arrogant teenager nonsense.

Instead, he tucked his legs up and made room near the foot of the bed with another sniffle. “Did I wake you?”

“Non. Katie was crying, and I thought I’d check on everyone.” He settled down and scooted until his back was against the wall as well—Sirius was still hiding in a cocoon of his duvet, but his hand came up to wipe his face. “Do you want to talk?”

“About what?”

“You seem upset. I know the homesickness is hard for the first few days, but—”

“No.” The vehemence of Sirius’ answer shocked him into silence. “No. I’m not homesick. I just—so much has happened, and I—it’s—this is everything I wanted, right here, and—”

He broke off with a wounded noise that broke Dumo’s poor heart right down the middle. He moved closer until their shoulders touched; to his surprise, Sirius leaned on him and shivered. “How can I help you?” Dumo asked quietly.

“Your family…” Sirius shook his head and drew the covers tighter. “You have a beautiful family. You should be proud of them.”

“I am, every day.”

“Your kids love you so much.” It was barely more than a whisper.

Dumo sighed through his nose. “I know.”

“No, you don’t, they—you’re their hero. And not because of hockey.”

That was Dumo’s dream, laid out right in front of him. If someone he hardly knew could see that, then it must be true. The impact was greater than he ever could have imagined; his lungs felt tight. “Thank you. Is it alright if I ask you something?”

Sirius stiffened slightly.

“You’re not in trouble, and you don’t have to answer if you don’t want to. I’m just…worried.”

He felt Sirius shift. “This is about the glass.” It wasn’t a question.

“Oui.” Dumo searched for the words and scrounged up any sliver of tact he could find. “Sirius, do you—what happens when you break a glass at your house?”

Sirius’ breath rushed from his lungs in a near-silent sob. Dumo gathered him close in his arms and held him, letting tears dampen his shoulder as he murmured soft reassurances in French. “I’m sorry,” Sirius croaked, though he did not move away. “I’m sorry for—for intruding, and for ruining your shirt—”

“You have nothing to be sorry for.” Dumo gave him a light squeeze of comfort and felt him go a bit boneless. “And you are not intruding. We love having you here with us.”

“Really?”

He sounded so unsure. So young. Dumo wished he could take away whatever horrible things had been said to ever make someone so kind feel so small. “Yes. Adele, especially.”

“She’s so…colorful.” Fondness dripped from every word.

“She is,” Dumo agreed. “She came running up to me, and went ‘papa, papa, can we keep him?’”

Sirius laughed a little at his imitation and straightened up, drying his eyes on his hoodie sleeve. They sat quietly for a while until the shaking stopped and his death grip on the comforter loosened. “Thank you, Mr. Dumais.”

“Call me Pascal, or Dumo if you like. ‘Mr. Dumais’ makes me sound like a grandfather.” They laughed together, then fell silent once more. “And you’re welcome. Any time you need help, you can come to me. I might not be your father, but—”

“You’re better,” Sirius interrupted, wiping his nose. His shadow turned to face Dumo in the dark, and though he couldn’t see his face, he could picture the earnest expression. “In every way. Please don’t tell anyone about this, though.”

“It never even crossed my mind,” Dumo answered honestly. “I should let you sleep now. We have some busy weeks ahead of us, eh?”

“Bonne nuit, M—Dumo.” The name carried new weight and he let it sink in as Sirius laid back down and kicked his blankets back into place. Something told him this was the beginning of a very interesting story.

“Bonne nuit, Sirius. Welcome to our home.”

[oioinanami]

routines. (ushijima wakatoshi x f. reader)

word count: 1.9k

synopsis: ushijima had never considered himself to be a „relationship person“ - until he met you.

contains: fluff, acquaintances to lovers, very slight sexual suggestiveness if you squint

Ushijima Wakatoshi had always considered himself a stoic and reserved man. He lived and breathed for volleyball. He went running every morning, ate three meals a day, showered twice. He had his routines and he liked it like that.

But then came you - and everything suddenly changed. It was his best friend Tendou - charming, loud and fun Tendou - who introduced you to one another, probably not even thinking about Ushijima ever falling for you, or anyone really, it just seemed too ridiculous, too far fetched. Of course Ushijima had his fair share of sexual encounters, but never anything serious, and all of those were mostly just for him to blow off some steam. He had never felt the need for a real and stable relationship before. But you - you felt different to him; like a breath of fresh air on a stuffy day, like rays of sunlight gently warming his cold face, like a soft and sweet scented breeze on the first day of early spring.

The first time he ever had the pleasure of meeting you and seeing you smile up at him, eyes bright and honest, he was absolutely helpless against the blush spreading over his cheeks and entire face until even the tips of his ears had turned red. As soon as his best friend Tendou saw the crimson color on his captain’s face, he suddenly sported the biggest smirk Ushijima had ever seen. The stoic volleyball player immediately knew that he was in trouble, in big big trouble. But it was too late - Tendou’s brain was already beginning to come up with a plan to set you two up.

So to Ushijima, it wasn’t the biggest surprise when Tendou began to invite you to all their volleyball matches, and being the sweet and supportive friend that you simply were, you actually tried to attend as often as possible. You cheered for the entire team, even though you were mostly acquainted with Tendou, knowing the others' faces and names, but none of them personally. Ushijima always tried his best during any game, no matter who was watching or not, but Tendou still noticed the way his best friend and team captain was trying maybe just a tad harder whenever you were present during a match. Should the team win while you were there, which was more often than not these days, Tendou literally dragged you with him to join the team for their celebratory dinners afterwards. Somehow you always ended up sitting beside Ushijima, slowly getting used to his stoic and calm presence, and beginning to try and make him smile by cracking an almost ridiculous amount of jokes around him. More often than not, your sarcasm went straight over his head, and once he even inquired if you were going to therapy after you jokingly said you were ready to kill for another of the extremely tasty Onigiri being served that evening. You only realized he himself was joking when you saw the tiny, private smile tugging at his lips. Maybe that was the moment you began falling for him, and you never stopped tumbling since.

After a few weeks of helpless pining, or as he called it “making sure his feelings were sincere”, Ushijima finally decided to ask you on a date. He just didn’t know how; he knew other people considered him blunt to the point of rudeness, and he never wanted you to see him in that way, he didn’t want to scare you off - even though you had never seemed to mind his directness before. Asking Tendou for help was definitely out of the question, because Ushijima knew his best friend literally didn’t know how to keep his mouth shut in times of need, so he’d probably just instantly tell you everything and Ushijima couldn’t have that.

But as fate would have it, he didn’t even need Tendou’s help - because a situation presented itself, so perfect, at least in his eyes, that Ushijima still smiled about it years afterwards. It was the last and therefore most important match of the season, and Shiratorizawa had not only won the first set, but was also currently in the lead for the second one. Only one point and they’d go to the nationals again. Naturally, you were pretty much at the edge of your seat, one closest to the field, all thanks to Tendou shooing away some younger girls before the match had begun and, unknown to you, making sure Ushijima had the perfect view of you cheering him on. You were currently biting your lips until you tasted blood, knees bouncing nervously while your eyes followed the boys on the field, more often than not landing on Ushijima. By now, you probably should have gotten used to him looking way too handsome in the team’s uniform, but even after months of seeing him wear it, your heart still skipped a beat whenever you attended any game. “Please, please, please, come on, boys, you can do it.”, you were muttering under your breath, the girl beside you giving you the side-eye but you just ignored her, heart beating twice as fast while you watched the game. Both teams were fighting for dominance, no one wanting to back down, the atmosphere thick with anticipation and nervousness. And then, it happened - Tendou’s quick eyes followed the ball, asserting which angle to use to best set it for Ushijima, who was already running towards the net for one of his incredible spikes. Rarely if ever could someone withstand the sheer power of his left hand, so no one was completely surprised when, a second later, the ball hit the ground with a loud smacking noise, resounding around the gym. Time seemed to stand still for a few seconds, before happy yells rose all around you and loud music suddenly started blasting from somewhere behind you. You were out of your seat in a split second, running towards where the team was hugging and high fiving each other on the field. “Ushi, that was amazing-”, you stated proudly, almost breathless with happiness, but were unable to complete your sentence because suddenly, there was a pair of strong arms around you, literally sweeping you off your feet and twirling you around once. You yelped, heart fluttering like crazy while you stared up at Ushijima, who had just set you back down on your feet again, the corners of his lips curling upwards into the tiniest of smiles. “Thank you, Y/N. I really appreciate your support.”, he said, deep voice rumbling in his chest, and you swore your knees were about to give out right there and then. You knew he wasn’t just being polite - he was being honest, his words always truthful, and it made your heart swell to know he liked you coming to his games. You had long learned to love his directness. Other people called him blunt, you called him honest, which was something not a lot of people could say about themselves, not in the modern times of Snapchat filters and Snow Apps. Ushijima cocked his head to one side, looking at you for a few seconds, his greenish-brown eyes almost unreadable, before he took in a deep breath. “I would really like to take you out on a date, if that’s something you’d want too.”, he then stated, and you just blinked a few times, before your face split into a huge smile, which made Ushijima’s heart burst and a deep blush creep onto his cheeks. It was the smile that had made him fall for you in the first place, the one he would never ever get used to - even years from now, when he was nothing more than stardust left behind, every single atom that once belonged to his body would still remember your smile, forever branded into the inner core of his soul, he was sure of it. And then you finally answered him, making his heart soar and his chest puff out: “I would love nothing more.”

For your first day date, Ushijima took you to a farm to pick the first strawberries of the season, shyly asking you to call him “Wakatoshi” by the end of the day and blushing madly once you did. You couldn’t help but stand on your tiptoes to press the softest of kisses against his cheek, feeling his slight stubble and hot skin under your lips, suddenly finding yourself blushing as well. When he took your hand, interlacing his strong calloused fingers with your smaller, softer ones, you knew your heart was long lost, forever his. But the soft, pleased smile he gave you, made you hope that maybe you weren’t the only one feeling like that.

That was just the first date of many, many more to come. Soon, everyone was already used to always seeing you two together; the stoic tall volleyball player and his much louder, much smaller girlfriend, an odd pair that somehow still just fit, like two puzzle pieces finally put back together again.

Ushijima quickly grew used to your constant presence in his life, and now, it almost feels like you’re part of him. He loves all your little quirks and antics - that you cling to him every morning, jokingly trying to keep him from going on his daily run and leaving you alone in bed; or how you confidently sing along to every song, drawing soft smiles from his lips whenever you mess up the lyrics and laugh at yourself; or that you like to speak to your plants, your green children as you like to call them, convinced it will make them grow quicker and stronger; or the way your eyes light up whenever he enters the room, reaching for him with one hand and making his heart swell twice its size; or your breathy moans and the quiet yells of his name whenever he touches your soft, flushed body in the darkness of your shared bedroom - honestly, there’s just so much to love about you, he sometimes gets a bit overwhelmed by his own feelings.

Ushijima Wakatoshi still considers himself a stoic and reserved man. But you have managed to melt some of his hardness away, your softness settling over all his angles and edges like sunlight reflecting on a still and deep lake. Yes, he still lives and breathes for volleyball - but now also for you, always and forever you. Yes, he still goes running every morning, still eats three meals a day, still showers twice. But now he runs much later in the day, spending the early hours of the morning with you in his arms, soft and warm body pressed flushed against his hard one, nose buried in your sweet smelling hair. His three meals a day are often prepared together nowadays, you singing loudly along to a song playing on the radio while chopping vegetables, smilingly observing him marinating and grilling the meat, sometimes standing on your tiptoes to press a gentle kiss on his cheek like you did on you first date, oh so many years ago. Even his showers are less lonely - all in the name of saving water and the planet of course, or that’s what you always say whenever you join him, happily spiking up his hair with shampoo while he just looks at you, the corners of his lips curling into one of those private smiles he reserves just for you, making you blush at the way his eyes shine with love and adoration for you, even after years of being together.

Yes, Ushijima Wakatoshi still has his routines, but now he always makes sure to incorporate you into them - and he very much likes it like that.

a/n: this is my first ever haikyuu imagine and also the first scenario on this blog - feedback and reblogs are appreciated, requests are open.

© oioinanami 2021 | masterlist

[volleychumps]

hey heY HEY!!! I LOVE YOUR BLOG 🥺 requesting for iwaizumi akaashi kageyama and atsumu with a jealous s/o I love ur scenarios where the boys are jealous😍 this time maybe the other way aorund?? THANK YOU SO MUCH 💗

welcome to this whirlwind of fluff, angst, and slight crack

Volley Boys with a Jealous S/O  (Iwaizumi, Akaashi, Kageyama, Atsumu)

--------------------------------------------------

Iwaizumi

The girls that came to support Seijoh practically had their distaste for you permanently etched into their features. 

Sure, most of them were really present because of Oikawa, the setter known to make the girls swoon through a simple wink in their direction. Iwaizumi, for the most part, wasn’t the one being drooled over. 

But this one damn girl. 

“Iwa-Kun! I brought you a water bottle! You did amazing out there!” 

Your boyfriend doesn’t miss the clench to your knees as Iwaizumi glances at the girl, deeming that she did indeed look a little familiar, but...

“Uh, what’s your name again?” 

You stretch your arms behind your head, biting back a smirk as Matsukawa and Hanamaki give you a double high-five. 

“Don’t be silly, it’s Yui! We had math together? You...helped me out a lot?” The girl giggles, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear as you roll your eyes to the side, popping your head out from beside Iwa. 

“Hi, Yui! Fancy seeing you here!” 

Yui frowns, a smile becoming plastered over her previous emotion quickly. “Oh hi Y/N! What are you doing here?” She sits down on the other side of Iwa as the male doesn’t notice, sucking the yogurt out of a carton with his eyes trained on the match. You scoff, wishing Iwa would notice the situation he was in right now before smiling back, a bit too widely. 

“Just here to support my boyfriend and his team.” 

You don’t miss the sneer that flashes across her face as she crosses her legs, causing her skirt to rise a little higher as you sigh in slight annoyance as she returns her attention to Iwa. 

“Iwa...can we talk?” 

“Um, sure?” Your boyfriend blinks as Yui leans a little closer, practically touching Iwaizumi with her cleavage as you stand suddenly, heat risen to your cheeks as a feeling bubbles up in your stomach. A feeling you didn’t like. 

“What do you think of my outfit today?” 

“I didn’t really look.” 

“Well, you can look now!” 

You grit your teeth, slightly pissed Iwaizumi was either oblivious or too engrossed in the game to care. "I need some air.” 

Before you can walk off, Iwaizumi grabs you by the waist from doing so, snatching you into his lap with a clean sweep with his eyes still focused on the game, chin resting on your shoulder. You shift uncomfortably, and Iwa leans a little closer to your ear. 

“If you ignore it, it will go away.” 

The feeling disappears as you relax into your boyfriend’s hold, humming slightly in agreement as Yui becomes flustered, standing and claiming that her friends needed her before stomping off. You smile as Iwa scoffs from behind you, grip on your waist becoming a little tighter before he wraps his arms around you from behind, breath fanning over your ear.

“No need to get jealous, babe. You’re the only one I see, and that’s that.” 

You roll your eyes at the straightforwardness of the romatic words, but plant a kiss on his lips after turning on his lap, ignoring the groans from his teammates. Iwa blushes at the motion, but doesn’t scold you like he usually would before kissing your shoulder, away from his teammates’ view. 

“I mean it. I saw that eye roll.” 

“Didn’t doubt you for a second.” 

“Liar.” 

“Player.” 

You yelp when his hands tickle your sides, laughing and ignoring the glares from the group of fangirls nearby. You make a show of intertwining your hands with his, kissing his knuckles and jaw as Iwaizumi feeds into it with slight amusement. 

“Enjoying yourself?” 

“Maybe you’d rather it be Yui?”

Iwa pinches your side, his turn coming to roll his eyes. “Don’t even say that, princess. You’ll just get yourself all riled up again.” 

Perhaps he wasn’t as oblivious as you thought. 

Akaashi

“Keiji, you literally let her wipe the sweat off of you with a towel.” 

“Please don’t do this...she was doing it before I even realized it.” 

“Was she also kissing your cheek before you realized it too?” 

You continue your stride through the halls easily, not stopping once as Akaashi walks at your side evenly meeting your pace for when it speeds up. 

“At least talk to me? Instead of running away?” 

You stall, legs frozen mid-walk as you snap your head towards your boyfriend to scowl. You had watched from the stands of a Fukurodani match as some girls from your school ran out excitedly after a win to congratulate the boys, and one had excitedly planted a kiss on your boyfriend’s cheek after oh-so-casually helping him wipe his sweat off with a rag. To say you were beyond pissed was an understatement. 

“Sure. Let’s talk.” You say a bit too sweetly, crossing your arms as Akaashi meets your betrayed stare with an even one. What pissed you off the most was he didn’t even seem guilty or upset that you were acting out. He hardly ever showed you anything. 

“Maybe you could have pushed her off? Reminded her that you have a girfriend who watched the whole 90 minute match just to support you? Or did you forget that when you let her touch you like that?” 

Your voice cracks at the end, and a flash of guilt passes over Akaashi’s face as you spin on your heel, not allowing him to see that your eyes had filled with tears of insecurity. You bite your lip as it quivers, mad at yourself for not accepting that Akaashi hadn’t initiated any of it, but still allowed it to happen in his usual polite nature. 

“Come find me when you want to talk again.” You say lowly, beginning to walk off when Akaashi catches your wrist before you can, silence filling the empty hall. 

“Let go, Keiji.” 

The defeatedness in your voice causes Akaashi to sigh, guilt finally eating at his chest as he gently pulls you into his embrace, the setter feeling awful that he was the reason for the wetness in your eyes. The last three days of silence from you had been more unbearable than he thought.

“I’m sorry.” 

“You’re only sorry because I’m mad.” 

“No. I’m sorry.” Akaashi gently lays your head against his chest as you feel your previous anger finally simmer. “Okay? I’m sorry. If I had known in advance this would happen, I would’ve never let it. I’m loyal to you.” 

Akaashi’s lips brush the top of your head as you sniff. “So please don’t cry.” 

“I’m not crying, I just really want to punch you.” 

“You can punch me if you want.” 

Your airy laugh makes Akaashi’s chest become lighter. He cups your face carefully, tilting your head upwards as he kisses the corner of your eye, tasting saltiness on his tongue as he kisses a tear away. 

“Only you. No one else.” 

“I’ll believe it when I see it.” 

You don’t realize you chose the wrong words as Akaashi gently presses your back against a nearby locker, lips tracing from your jaw down to your neck slowly. 

“Shall I show you, then?” 

“Are you crazy?!” 

“No one’s here.” 

“Keiji, I- you know what, screw it.” 

Akaashi smiles into the kiss you pulled him into, finally feeling peace in his heart now that it was no longer at war with yours. 

God forbid if he ever makes you cry again. 

Kageyama

You would’ve never thought Kageyama would be the boy you had to shoo other girls off of, but you would’ve never also thought that he would be the boy to not realize a single bit of it. 

“Kageyama, she was flirting with you!” 

“....WHAT?!” 

“I...Tobio, what was she doing?” 

“Just stuff...she wanted to see how I set my fingers during the sets. She wanted to hold them and stuff...” 

Your blank look as he trails off makes the first year blink into realization before blue eyes snap up to meet yours with guilt brimmed in them. You groan, massaging your temples as you walk away, Kageyama catching up to you easily with his long strides. 

“I’m sorry!” 

“I don’t even have it in me to be mad at you.” You respond, a tad bit irritated that your boyfriend had let someone else fucking hold his hands. 

You brushed a lot of it off for the most part, really thinking your boyfriend couldn’t read into a lot of girls’ advances due to him being oblivious and stupid to anything not concering volleyball.

Until one match with this one girl- 

“Kageyama!! I came to today’s match too!” 

“Kageyama do your best! I’ll be cheering for you!” 

“Kageyama!!!!” 

Literally someone needs to shoot you and someone needs to do it fast. 

This one girl in particular was all over him, touching his arms before they went to warm up, fixing his hair for him when he had to change into his jersey-

you were at the brink of using mental telepathy in order to convey to Kageyama that this was happening. 

“Want me to get rid of her?” 

“Suga, you’re like the least scariest person I know.” 

“By me, I mean Daichi.” 

“Daichi-” 

“No.” 

“Please?” 

“Just talk to him, dummy.” Daichi grinds his fist into your head as you swat it away, becoming deep in thought. 

You pout from your seat in the stands between the two co-captains who were also your friends, seeing Kageyama remain indifferent as the girl leans a little closer to him. You blink away the heat in your eyes. What was wrong with you? You usually handled it so well before...

Maybe you were becoming insecure?

Kageyama’s blue eyes dart over to your seat to see you looking down at your lap with a small, defeated looking smile on your face before he begins to connect the dots, standing suddenly as he startles the seated people around him. He pulls his arm from the girl’s grasp a bit harsher than necessary before pointing a finger at you, ears reddened and panic in his expression. 

“...girlfriend!” 

“Kageyama-Kun, are you asking me...?” 

“No! I uh...my girlfriend. I have a girlfriend. So please don’t touch me like that.”

Kageyama promptly walks away from her as your jaw slackens, the setter marching his way up to you with business in his steps as he holds his hand out to you, blush set on his cheeks. 

“I...I’m sorry...again.” 

Your dumbfounded expression turns into a smile before you bust out laughing, accepting your awkward boyfriend’s hand as blue eyes dart everywhere but you. 

“I’m glad you realized, Tobio.” 

“C-Can we go somewhere else?” Kageyama flushes an even deeper shade of red, feeling multiple pairs of eyes on him from his gallant announcement. 

You nod energetically as Tobio pulls you out of your seat and into the mostly empty hallway, almost immediately letting out a large breath as his head falls on your shoulder from the height difference. 

“Were you crying...?” 

“No!” you say a little too quickly as Kageyama’s long arms wrap around your waist, burying his face in your hair as he hugs you tightly. Something he rarely did unless he was super serious, almost like when he confessed to you the first time. 

“Don’t cry because of me. I’m sorry if you were jealous...” 

“I was not jealous, and I was not crying, are you deaf-?”

“I like you!” Kageyama says suddenly, catching you off guard at the intensity of his voice. “I like you...I’m yours.” 

Your eyes widen for a moment before your arms raise to rest against his shoulder blades. You laugh a little bit, causing Kageyama to pull back with narrowed eyes and reddned cheeks. 

“What? Am I wrong?” 

“Nope.” you grin, leaning upwards to place an innocent kiss on the tip of his nose. “Same here. I’m alllll yours.” 

“Good. Then don’t sit with my captains anymore.” 

“Ohoho well look how the turntables-” 

“You did not just quote the Office in the middle of our moment.” 

Atsumu

Having a boyfriend that was known to be on the national level from his skills in volleyball? Fun...at times.

What wasn’t fun was how naturally flirtatious this boy could be sometimes. Even Osamu sent you looks of do you want me to beat up my brother when it seemed like he was being inconsiderate of your feelings. 

You roll your eyes, tapping your foot as you wait in front of the stadium, feeling a bit guilty about not being able to come see his match because of a previous engagement you couldn’t miss. Still, you wanted things to smooth over. You hated feeling jealous about girls who couldn’t keep their hands to themselves.

“Y/N.” 

You blink as you look up to meet the greeting wave of Osamu, who walks up to you with a quicker pace than he usually does. “Atsumu left already. You should go.” 

“What-?” 

“Y/N please, don’t let my idiot brother mess up-”

Osamu’s quick words are cut off with a giggle. 

Multiple giggles. 

“Atsumu-Kun, you looked so cool today!” 

“If I was your girl, I would come to every match, no matter what.” 

You feel a lump grow in your throat when your boyfriend emerges with two girls on either arm, giggling and clung onto his side like they had been glued there, Osamu sighs, covering his eyes. He had tried to save you the hurt you were bound to feel, whether what was in front of you was platonic or not. 

“Hey beautiful!” Atsumu calls to you from a distance as the girls all glare daggers in your direction, and you try to smile. You really try. 

But instead, you spun on your heel and simply walked away, eyes brimming with a raging feeling of jealousy and hurt you couldn’t explain. 

Yeah. Maybe Atsumu did deserve someone who wasn’t busy all the time. 

Osamu clicks his tongue as Atsumu watches your now retreating figure in slight confusion, hand going up to wave brightly at you now slowly lowering.

“Will you ever learn?” Osamu simply questions, walking off in the opposite direction as Atsumu palms his face, realizing he had just deepened the grave he had already put himself in with your trust. 

“I appreciate the offer, ladies, but there’s only one girl I want.” Unable to help himself with the growing feeling of distaste in his stomach, he adds, “I’d rather have someone with her own schedule than someone who would cling to me all day.” 

With that, and a new douchiness engraved in the girls’ minds, Atsumu runs. He keeps running until he sees you, only stopping when he successfully blocks your path, both arms outstretched from keeping you from going anywhere. 

“Halt.” 

“I’m not in the mood for jokes.” You say quietly, going to move around him as Atsumu takes the opportunity to scoop you up, ignoring the thrash of your legs as you simply give up, the tears you were trying to hold back slipping. God, you felt like a baby who didn’t get what she wanted. 

“You’re not getting put down until we talk.” 

Atsumu continues to walk, humming slightly as you stay silent for a few minutes, exhaling deeply when your thoughts are in array. 

“Am I...not enough for you?” 

The walk stops. 

“If there’s someone else you’d rather be with-” 

“Just kidding. Worst talk ever.” Atsumu cuts you off, kissing you in order to put a stop to your words as he holds you a little tighter, guilt eating inside of him from blatantly flirting harmlessly with all those girls, not realizing he was causing an immense amount of harm to you. 

Maybe he should start learning now. 

“Listen, beautiful-wait no I’m talking stop trying to escape- you’re my girlfriend. My one and only, beautiful girlfriend that I would never let go of. I wouldn’t do things like this,” he kisses your cheek. “or this.” your forehead. “Or especially this.” 

Your lips. 

“-with someone who isn’t you. Got that, hot stuff?” 

You press your lips into a line before nodding once, causing Atsumu to offer you a bright smile, finally setting you down to hold you by the shoulders. 

“Now, what can I do to make my beautiful girl smile?” 

What he didn’t know, however, was that he had already done plenty. 

“Nothing.” 

“Don’t be like that! At least kiss me-” 

“Atsumu?” 

“Yes, love?” 

“...you might wanna tell Osamu that he took the wrong way home-” 

“oh shit.”

[ohheyitsokay]

spectators

part 8 of the ‘hey batter batter’ series

paring: Francisco Morales (Frankie, Catfish) x reader

wordcount: 2.6k

warnings: strong language, kissing, enough fluff for a rich person chair

summary: it’s a Triple Frontier baseball AU! Trust me, you don’t need to know anything about baseball.

In this chapter, the Frankie and you appease the people who have been invested in their relationship this whole time.

>>

Pope threw the ball straight up, and caught it.

Then he did it again – he was thinking.

Right hand, then left. Right, left. The ball was in the air less and less time, but the speed didn’t increase. Eventually he was just tossing it straight into his own palm, slowly, thoughtfully, his gaze fixed somewhere far away.

Frankie watched, not even nervous. Of all the reactions he could’ve predicted this was more or less what he expected.

“I’m proud of you,” this throw was for Catfish.

“Thanks.” He caught it.

“You’re fucking lucky,” Pope grinned.

“I know.” Frankie threw it back.

“When is the next date?” Benny plucked it out of the air, a strange look in his eyes. The rest of the team was already back in the locker rooms, but they had held Frankie back, curious. He had spent the morning practice practically glowing, playing well, but suspiciously distracted. Initially, there was an onslaught of teasing and questions and exaggerated berating, but now they had quieted, actually processing this, as friends. Will look satisfied, happy even, but Frankie kicked himself, remembering too late that Ben’s most recent romance hadn’t worked out.

“Tonight – she thinks the parties are bad news,” he said it carefully - Ironhead had been the one to start sharing their pasts with you, but it was really out there now, for you to take or leave. He moved past them towards the showers and he heard Tom snort, making an exaggerated whipping sound. The older man had listened to his abbreviated story with a stoic face, just raised eyebrows and his arms crossed. Frankie’s jaw clenched, wondering if he should retort, but he didn’t get the chance.

It was quiet, but Will added, “She’s not wrong,” in that even, reasonable tone of his. The tension fell, and then rose, sharply, a testament to the respect they all held for the first-baseman's opinion. Trudging through the hallway suddenly felt too fast, too dangerous, like the conversation should’ve stayed outside. A long moment filled only by footsteps as they all considered, before Ben spoke. 

“Can I come?” Frankie stopped walking, turning incredulously and Santi smacked the rookie on the back of his head. Benny glared, but without any real bite. “Ow, fuck you - I’d rather hang out than go to another one of those stupid parties, wouldn’t you?” He looked defiant, meeting each of their eyes and gesturing with both of his arms, goading them to answer him, to disagree.

No one did, not even Tom, who glowered, the leather of his glove folded into deep wrinkles. Will’s blue eyes met the brown of Santi’s, and his mouth hooked into a smile. Deep laughter went a long way to thawing tension when it was genuine, and it was.

“Ben, you can’t crash Fish's date, we can do something else,” Will took his own turn smacking his brother but it was a bit of a bold statement. There were days when it felt like they really couldn’t so anything else, like there wasn’t other options that felt real – but they should be able to.

Frankie dragged a hand over his face before groaning a muffled, “Wait,” and sighing. He cursed, not even aware of what language it was in, occupied by the thought of what you would say if you were here. It was ridiculous but it felt right, and it was an opportunity for him to slow down again. “Honestly she would probably love if you guys hung out.”

There was a beat, where they stared at him, before the debate began. It didn’t last long, hushing as they reached the locker room, but by the time they were clean and dried and settled, it was decided. There really wasn’t a downside to it and really, they were all figuring you out, too. The lure of your smiles and home cooked food far outweighed the temptation of loud music and sticky floors and girls too tipsy to talk with, at least this time.

In the lull between the practice and the game, Frankie tried not to jump whenever his phone made a noise. One date in, and he was already daydreaming about just driving to your house and just kissing you until one of you had somewhere better to be. But you had a job, and things to finish so you had time for his game that evening, and he was acutely aware that while you had let that incredible evening – yesterday? – happen, he would need to slow down. He had already told you, he wanted to do this right.

He confirmed the plans for the evening, smiling as you agreed to host all his friends, and then tossed his phone into his bag. Then put a jacket on top of the bag, folded twice so it balanced precariously. When it buzzed he made himself take a lap around the building, and wanted to bang his head against the wall when it was a random email.

And all evening the thought of you. The game rolled in, and he squatted bitterly, annoyed his position left his back to the crowd. It meant he couldn’t look for you, and James. Logically he knew, even if you had told him your exact seats, he wouldn’t be able to make you out unless you were close, but that didn’t stop him from wishful thinking. 

Catch, catch, walk, sit, swing, hit, run, walk, sit. Repeat. 

The game built, and tensions were high as the scores stayed close and the crowd whispered about playoffs. It was the worst time for him to be batting, the pressure too high to be on the shoulders of a catcher, but it couldn’t be helped.

He walked out, listening to the blast of an old song too familiar to recognize, and the rumble of the announcer.

Frankie looked towards the crowd, knowing you were out there and fruitlessly wishing he could see you. He stopped at the plate, shifting on the balls of his feet, feeling the dirt under his cleats and trying to imagine your eyes on him. His hands tightened, loosened, tightened again, the wrap on the handle of the bat protested the movement, and he tried to hear you whispering his name.

You were cheering for him, right?

The ball hit his bat with a satisfying crack, and he didn’t watch where it went before he ran.

-

James was stalling.

You were supposed to drive him home, as always, but after spending most of the game filling him in about you and Francisco, there was no convincing him to move faster.

He wanted to see the man who had kissed his granddaughter – more than once! – and look him over again. The sweet, elderly man could be quite determined, especially when it involved two of his favorite people in the whole world. It meant waiting until the crowds fled and dodging staff who would no doubt shoo you away, but the eagerness on his little, wrinkled face made him impossible to deny.

“Jimbo, you’ve already met him,” you tried again, listening to the shrieks of a fangirl. After the surprising home run, the catcher was in high demand, and it made your stomach twist.

You had woken up this morning still shy and baffled at what you were to him, what was happening. So much had happened in such a short amount of time, and you talked a lot, but not about... you, together. But James was certain, this was it, and he wanted to look Francisco in the eyes before he gave you his blessing.

His hand was in your elbow and you tugged, again, before withering under his look. He began lecturing you, about this being his job and you offered a compromise. This time, you weren’t invited, but you guided him towards the lobby where friends and family met the players, and when they let you in, you let out a breath you didn’t know you had been holding.

Santiago found you first, and both of you got big hugs from him and the Miller boys, as they told you animatedly about how much hell they gave Frankie for bringing you home the first date. You barely got a word in, but you grinned as James joined their indignation.

In truth, your eyes were looking for Frankie, and you chided yourself at how much you ached for him, as always.

After a few minutes, Will pushed you towards the locker room, and you shot him a grateful smile. All the other players were clear, he told you, Frankie was being a baby about facing the fans. Your phone buzzed in your pocket, confirming that he was at loathe to run into anyone but you. They kept your grandfather occupied, and you knew they were in good hands as he was insisting he was hosting game night, that night.

Ducking into the hall, you followed the tile and the gaudy decorations, and found him.

Frankie, your Francisco was freshly showered, tshirt and jeans marked with drips from his curls, fiddling with his phone like he was waiting for you to text back. When he saw you, he dropped it into his bag, and your arms and eyes were suddenly full of him.

It was a crushing hug, he was eager and almost bursting with pride. You made a noise, you know you did, when only your toes were touching the ground, but he didn’t spin you around before he set you down.

He tried to pull away, he really did, but he couldn’t help but stay close, and you could’ve sworn his cheeks were flushed as you congratulated him, telling him admiringly about how exciting his home run was.

Feeling him against you again was surreal. Mere weeks ago you had been watching him from a distance, and then burying ridiculous daydreams under the rug in your mind. And yet here he was, looking at you with the same softness as he had the night before, without regret, and like reality was better than a dream.

When he asked why and how you were here – not that he was complaining, you told him and explained about James. He only smiled, shifting closer to you again, telling you after all you put up with yesterday, he could certainly do this for you.

There was a pause, the air both clear and thick at the same time, and his head tilted, hands shifting on your hips. Thoughts of your family and friends and food slipped from your mind as his face drew closer, the tip of his nose tapping yours.

Brown eyes, searching your face, you almost felt like you could count his eye lashes. Frankie had little freckles, faint, spattered across the tan skin of his neck and face, and there were sweet little sparse patches in his beard.

“You know, we wont get any time alone, tonight.”

His tone was thoughtful, but he said it like he almost didn’t hear himself, and you could feel the edges of the words against your lips.

The hand on your hip slid up. Up and up, until it settled on the back of your head and he was pressing into you. Frankie’s kisses were deep and slow, like he couldn’t believe last night was not a figment of his imagination, and you wound your arms around him before you got lost in them. There were words in them, distant proclamations and promises and you pulled him into you, yearning to hear them clearly.

It could’ve been a minute or half an hour, between that moment and when he pulled away. With shock, you realized you had been pushed against the locker with his name on it, and his palm was cushioning your head.

There was a clatter of aluminum against the floor, and you jumped like caught teenagers. Then you were firmly planted on the ground again, and Frankie was turned around, shielding you like it was already instinct. Neither of you saw anyone, and his laughter was bashful and sweet. When he said you should probably go, and took your hand, you heard a genuine roughness in his voice.

Behind another row of lockers, Molly whispered into Tom’s neck, “Do you need to go, too? There’s that party tonight.” And he shrugged.

-

The environment at James' home was completely different than last time they were there. Things were less clean, there was less food, and everyone was twice as comfortable. 

It was strange, what really knowing them did - they teased you more, and breathed easier, as if they had never met someone who hadn’t minded it all. 

“Juice packets?” Will asked, confused at the drink selection, and you smiled when Santi winked at you. Tom hadn’t come but you thought it would be best to play it safe. It was important to you, that if they were choosing this over a party that it was lighthearted, sincere and simple.

“I just thought it would be fun,” you gave as your only explanation and he didn’t question it further. He did drink them three at a time, though, and when you laughed, you swore you saw his smile lines.

Benny was on your team, yelling and by far the most competitive, Santi and Will’s luck encouraging it every step of the way. They bickered like kids, bellowing laughter and rambunctious celebrations included. You made an extra rule – anyone who hit you with a pillow or playing piece had to buy you ice cream, next time the opportunity came up.

If should’ve been distracting, how James had pulled Frankie to the side to talk, but it warmed your heart. You didn’t need to swoop in and rescue him – they were talking like old friends, like Frankie was genuinely interested and invested in your beloved grandfather.

Every once in awhile, he would look up and meet your eyes, watching you with his friends with one corner of his mouth pulling higher. Once, you blew him a kiss and he scrunched his nose, like it hit him between the eyes.

Later, you scooted over to them, trying to steal him back, James leaned over and ruffled your hair before sternly, adorably telling you to let him have his turn with Frankie. When Frankie joined him, jokingly telling you to back off, you thought if it didn’t work out with him, Jimbo would adopt him. 

The night stretched beautifully late, before your grandfather lectured them on the importance of sleep and Benny spun you around in victory. There were stars in the sky, and you listened to their chatter fade as they piled into their cars, surprised at how affectionate you felt for all of them, after so little time and such unlikely circumstances. 

Frankie had stayed back, accepting goodbye hugs, and leaning against your car as you waved the other’s off. Of course, you asked, but he didn’t tell you what they talked about and he didn’t linger as long as you had hoped he would. 

His kiss was sweet and chaste, like he knew he had all the time in the world.

<<

taglist:

@fangirl-316 @scribbledghost @writeforfandoms @beautyagegoodnesssize @princess76179 @mrsbentallmadge

hey batter batter taglist:

@icanbeyourjedi @studyofawearymind @hnt-escape @athalien @the-witty-pen-name @daffodin @sarahjkl82-blog @pintsizemama @anaaaispunk @pjkimrn @dobbyjen @stuckontheceiling

[raysofcrosby]

can we see a little sneak peek at the epilogue pleaseeeeeee☺️

sure thing! 🥰

below the cut is a sneak peek of the wltay epilogue!

“You know that they’re getting ready to take off, right?” Matt asked, coming up beside Caroline’s chair and resting his hands against the back of his beside her.

“Mhhm, they handed out the sparklers just a bit ago.” Caroline nodded down at the packaged sparkler in front of her, the packaging giving a time to line up just outside and that someone would be there to light them for them.

“Which means the night is coming to an end…”

“I hope so,” she laughed, placing her glass down in front of her and shifting in her chair, tugging up on her deep coral colored bridesmaid dress and poking out her left foot, still wearing her nude heels. “My feet are starting to kill me and the moscato only helps so much.”

“We can take care of that later,” Matt said, grabbing onto both hands and tugging her up onto her feet. “But right now, we’re going to dance before the wedding ends.”

“But my feet,” she pouted, letting Matt hold onto her hand as he led them onto the ballroom floor.

“I’ll rub your feet tonight and tomorrow,” he stopped in the middle of the dance floor and wrapped his right arm around her waist, pulling her into him as he held onto her right hand with his left. “But right now, we’re dancing. Capiche?”

“You’re not sleeping at your parents’ place tonight?” She asked, resting her left arm on his right arm and placing her hand on his shoulder.

“Oh no, definitely not. Ethan is, but not me. I’m staying with you in your room.”

“Matthew,” she rolled her eyes as he smiled. “We’re not crossing that line.”

“I know, I know,” he replied, sighing. “The one time when we got back from the lake house was bad enough, but I sure as hell don’t regret it. What’s a Stanley Cup celebration without some Stanley Cup celebration sex, hm?”

Caroline shook her head, resting her forehead against his shoulder so he couldn’t see her blush. It wasn’t intentional– her and Matt sleeping together– it really was sort of an accident...that involved being way too drunk from brunch with Brady and Emma that first weekend back from the lake house. They all ended up crashing at Brady and Emma’s place, and while Emma attempted to take a shower while Matt and Brady ordered food, Caroline was supposed to be taking a nap in their guest room.

Until Matt came walking in and cuddled up behind her and the soft kiss against her cheek, turned into a kiss on the mouth, then the hands got involved and before they knew it, the tension was high and they were naked, in each others arms and under the covers being woken up by a slightly less drunk Brady a few minutes later, who came to announce that the pizza was there and that Matt was going to pay to have the sheets and comforter cleaned.

Since then, they haven’t crossed the line. The small touches, lingering hugs and simple kisses were fine to them. Matt could stay the night and sleep in her bed with her and that was fine too– but sex was a no-go. Even while the being around each other was enough to solidify her feelings, it was the sex that would make her want to skip out on the hard work she was putting in with Moira in working through her issues from the past.

And that was something she was adamant about working on, for everyone’s sakes– but more specifically, her own and her little family’s.

“I’m more than okay with just sleeping beside you for the night, no sex needed.” He whispered, resting his head beside hers. “Just something to get used to once we finally figure everything out, because when we do, I can guarantee you that when I’m home for the summer that I’ll be sleeping over at your place.”

“You haven’t considered getting your own place here yet for the summers?”

Matt shrugged, trying to hide the sheepish smile on his face. “I’ll admit that I’ve been looking at a few places in the neighborhood, but I’m not looking to buy until we get everything settled.”

“And by settled you mean…”

“Definitely you and me in a relationship of course, duh.”

“I thought we were starting over, hm?” She laughed, looking at him.

“I mean, we don’t have to start way over...right? I’m pretty sure we don’t have to take it as slow as you and doucheface were. I’ve stayed over plenty of times, you and Ethan literally stayed at my apartment back in Calgary and we have years of history together. How much do we really need to start over with besides the obvious?” He asked, spinning her out before bringing her back in.

“You live in Calgary nine months out of the year, Matt. So what are we talking about here?” She asked, stopping him from spinning her out again. “Living together for three months here every summer in St. Louis where we’re vacationing some of the time? Or living together twelve months out of the year, both in Calgary and St. Louis?”

Matt paused, looking at her as he rested both hands at the small of her back. “It’s whatever you want to do, Care. You and E made a really solid foundation here and it wouldn’t be the first time a player lives somewhere different than his family for the season. I’ll do whatever’s best for you both.”

“Sounds like you’ve got more than just dating in mind there, Matthew,” she spoke softly, a teasing smile on her face.

“The tradition is that the people who catch the bouquet and the garter get married next, right?” He smiled.

“Does it really count if the toss was fixed?”

“Pft, of course it does!” He said, dipping her down slowly as he smiled and brought her back up. “Besides, who said it was fixed?”

“I don’t know,” she smiled, the song coming to an end as they stayed on the dance floor. “Maybe it was Taryn shooing everyone else away from us in the circle?”

Matt rolled his eyes as he held her hand and the two of them walked back to their table. “What my sister does is her own thing. But I can promise you I didn’t set it up.” He pulled her chair out, scooting it back in once she sat down before sitting down next to her and turning towards her in his chair. “But back to your original question, yes. I’ve definitely got more than dating in mind.”

Caroline reached for her glass of moscato and took a sip, savoring the taste before looking at him. “You know...when we were walking down the aisle together, I may or may not have pictured it being you and me on our wedding day.”

“We’re getting married?” He asked, gasping as he grabbed his beer bottle. “An invitation would’ve been nice.”

She was the one who rolled her eyes this time at his teasing tone. “I’m not saying that we are right now, I was just saying it was easy to picture.”

“Do you still have that pinterest board of your dream wedding you made back in high school?” He asked, a teasing smile on his lips as he brought the bottle to his mouth. “Am I still wearing the gray suit and the purple accessories?”

“Lavender, thank you,” she replied, putting her glass back onto the table. “And I plead the fifth on my wedding board.”

“I have been told that is my best color, by you of course...and my Mom,” he laughed, taking another sip of his beer. “Just answer one more question before you cease the wedding talk until our own, hm?”

She picked her glass back up, preparing herself for whatever it was he was going to ask. “Okay, I’m listening.”

“Did you ever look at that board when you were planning your wedding with doucheface?” His tone was playful still, but Caroline didn’t miss the seriousness behind his playful question.

“Nope,” Caroline replied, shaking her head as she brought the glass up to her lips. “Never glanced at it once. And if we’re being honest...I didn’t get very far in the wedding planning process. I only got as far as ordering a magazine to look at dresses, but that’s it.”

“Good,” Matt nodded, failing to hide the smile as he finished off the rest of his beer before putting it down onto the table.

“Momma, I’m tired,” Ethan pouted, walking up and standing in between Matt and Caroline’s chairs, leaning against Matt’s legs.

“You had all that cake after I told you not to, didn’t you?” She asked, looking at him as he nodded. “So now you’re coming down from that sugar high you said you wouldn’t get even though I told you it’d happen, right?’

“Mhhm,” he nodded, still pouting as he pried at Matt’s knees to step between them, leaning further against Matt. “Can we go home now, Daddy?”

“We’ve still got to say bye to BeeBee and Emmy, but after that we’ll ride home with Papa Walt and Mimi, okay?” Matt asked, picking Ethan up and sitting him on his lap.

“Which speaking of,” Caroline said, nodding around them as everyone was getting up to walk towards the designated spot. “We should probably get our sparklers and go line up.”

“What do you think, E?” Matt asked, getting Ethan to lift his head up off of his shoulder. “Can you stay awake a little longer to light up the sparkler? I’ll let you hold mine and yours, that way I can carry you, okay?”

“Okay, I can do that.” Ethan nodded, getting off of Matt’s lap and standing there as Matt stood up, grabbing onto the two sets of sparklers and handing them to him. “Where do we go?”

“Just follow Mom and I, okay?” Matt replied, resting his hand on Ethan’s shoulder as he waited for Caroline to grab her sparkler. “Ready?”

“Ready.” Caroline nodded, adjusting her dress as she stood beside him, draping her purse across her chest and holding onto the sparklers. “What?” She asked, looking up to see Matt smiling at her.

“Nothing, come on,” he replied, shaking his head and placing his hand on the small of her back, walking alongside her to the location they needed to be.

They lined up towards the end of the line, being one of the last people who would see Brady and Emma before they got into their ride to head back home to their apartment before they would wake up early the next morning to head off to the airport and start their honeymoon. Andrew and Nonnie were across the way from them, Keith and Chantal as well, everyone on either side of the line starting to light up their sparklers, using their neighbors as the flame while Brady and Emma stood at the very front of the makeshift tunnel.

Matt carried Ethan on his left hip, turning him towards Caroline as Caroline lit both of the sparklers, using hers before they followed everyone else in holding the sparklers up out in front of them and just above their heads, everyone cheering as Emma and Brady ran by their friends and family, big smiles on their faces and waving as they reached their car. They each stopped by their parents one last time, giving them a hug and a kiss and saying goodbye to their siblings before getting into their car and driving away from the venue and back towards home.

“Can we go home now, Daddy?” Ethan yawned, looking at Matt.

“We can go home now, E.” Matt nodded, pointing ahead of them and he squatted down and put Ethan onto the ground. “There’s Papa Walt and Mimi right there, why don’t you go see if they’re ready to go, okay?”

“M'kay,” Ethan nodded, rubbing his left eye as he walked across the way and over to Keith and Chantal.

“I know I told you earlier when we were walking down the aisle, but you look beautiful tonight,” Matt said, resting his hand on the small of Caroline’s back as he walked them over towards his parents. “If the officiant was still here, I’d have him marry us right now.”

“And you look quite handsome yourself,” she smiled, wrapping an arm around his waist and leaning against his arm. “You ready to go home?”

“With you?” He smiled, bending down and kissing her temple before brushing his lips just by her left ear. “Always.”

[mizunetzu]

Plz make a prat 2 to its your fault!!! It was SO GOOD!!

LMAO I WASNT GONNA BUT I BROKE 100 FOLLOWERS PURELY BC THAT FIC SO-

——————

Kuroo x reader - it’s your fault (pt. 2)

⚠️warnings - none

Pronouns - male, he/him

part one can be found here! , and if the link is broken, check my pinned masterlist!

——————

Sports sucks. That’s the mindset (y/n) carried over to Karasuno, in his second year of high school.

He was doing great. He joined the writing club, he did extra well in his English classes, and even made acquaintances who didn’t force them to learn a sport for the rest of their life’s.

He doesn’t think he’d call them “friends” though. They weren’t as close as he was to his ‘teammates’. Or Kenma. Or Kuroo.

But then again, his relationship with Kuroo wasn’t real. And (y/n) will forever hate him for that. He’ll hate his guts for as long as he lives, for wasting his time and giving up his passion just because he couldn’t suck it up to tell him he didn’t want to be friends anymore.

“(L/n)-San, you’re late.”

A cold sweat broke out on (y/n). He looked up at his history teacher, with a nervous smile. He didn’t care for that class as much as the others, so it’s hard to keep up when you aren’t interested.

“(L/n), this is your third offense. I’m going to have to send you to detention. Take your seat and see me after class.”

“Yes sensei...”

He tiptoed to his seat and slid into his chair, with his head down. It was his first detention. He wasn’t going to lie when he said he was nervous.

————-

The detention wasn’t as bad as he thought it would be. When he walked in, the teacher supervising was asleep on his desk, and there were only about 4-5 second years in there.

None really stood out, minus the one sitting in the corner, with his feet up, spinning a volleyball in between his hands. He had hair that reminded him of that bitch Kuroo, except it was styled like that on purpose, and there was a streak of blond straight in the middle.

The stranger seemed to catch his disgusted face, and said “Oi-you got a problem, pretty boy?”

(Y/n) wiped the look off his face and leaned a against the wall, not wanting to sit down. He stood there for about 5 minutes, before he heard the ever so familiar sound of a volleyball being smacked. Absentmindedly, he turned towards the sound, and brought his hands up to receive the ball. It’s the first thing they drill into your mind in that prison called Nekoma, so could you really blame him?

The thing he didn’t expect, was the ball to actually hit his hands. He thought the sound was in his head, or the boy just smacked the ball in his hands, but he didn’t think that he threw the damn ball at him. The ball effortlessly bounced off his arms and flew back into the hands of the boy, who had a shocked, excited, expression.

“You play volleyball?!” The boy jumped out of his seat and ran up to him. He was short, but then again, (y/n) wasn’t that tall to begin with.

“I...don’t...I’m sorry.”

“Bullshit! That was a perfect receive! I’ve seen guys on my team who don’t have a receive as good as that!”

Team? He thought there would be no ‘team’. This is the one school with that ‘fallen crows’ thing, right?

The boy was jumping up and down, praising his receive and making weird sound effects. He’s never really been praised on his receive before. It was heartwarming.

“-and you gotta join my team!”

“Hell no. I don’t play volleyball anymore. I’m done with it.” The words came out like an automated response. The boy tilted his head to the side.

“Why not? Your one of those new kids right? I don’t think I’ve seen you last year.”

“I don’t care much to talk about it” (y/n) chuckled and sat down. The boy sat down next to him, to his disappointment.

“I’m Nishinoya Yuu. What’s your name?”

“(Y/n).” (Y/n) said nothing more, mainly because he was used to going by his first name at Nekoma.

“(Y/n)? Just (y/n)? Is that your first name or your last orrrr-“

“First,” (y/n) drummed his fingers on the desk. “I don’t like formalities when it comes to spor-“

That response came out automatically aswell. It’s something Kenma said so much, that he started doing it aswell. They weren’t even doing sports. They’re in detention for gods sake.

“Nice to meet you man!” Nishinoya gave him a pat on the back. (Y/n) flinched a bit. Kenma wasn’t touchy at all, and Kuroo avoided as much contact with him as possible. Yet this...stranger was talking to him like he was the last person on earth. He was the center of attention right now. And he loved that feeling.

Are all countryside people this nice? Back in Tokyo, or at least with Kenma and Kuroo, they weren’t so...touchy. And the team wasn’t touchy as well. But maybe this is different. Maybe...

“You have to at least VISIT the practice! I won’t force you to join! But this is my last day of detention before I finally return and it would be cool if I got another player in! Not that I’m assuming you’ll want to play instantly but-“

“I’ll do it.”

“Really!?”

He was just going to watch. He wanted to see how different the Miyagi players were compared to Tokyo. That’s all. After that he’s going to leave. No more volleyball.

————

Nishinoya and (y/n) became good friends during the remainder of the detention. He told (y/n) he was a libero, and asked what his old position was. He lied and said he was a libero too. There was really no reason to lie, but he didn’t want to say he was a setter either.

On their way to the gym, (y/n) could practically feel how excited Nishinoya was. It was something (y/n) could never understand. They neared the entrance to the gym, when Nishinoya suddenly sprinted inside. A ball hurdled towards him, and he returned in the direction it came from, with little to no effort.

(Y/n) jogged in after him. “Noya! Warn me when you start sprinting damnit! you scared me!” A boy with bright orange hair, also pretty short, stared at Nishinoya with wide eyes.

“He’s...he’s shorter than me!”

“Huh? Hey, what did you just say?!” The libero got ready to pounce on the other short boy when he choked out a panicked “s-sorry!”

They started going back and forth on stuff

(y/n) wasn’t paying attention to, when 3 other people walked into the gym.

“Oi! Noya-San!”

“Ryu!”

The unknown people started greeting Nishinoya, while (y/n) stood awkwardly to the side.

“Oh! Let me introduce you.” Noya gestured towards (y/n), who stiffened once all eyes landed on him. My name is (y/n), uh-just (y/n). I don’t like formalities when it comes to sports.”

“Yeah! He said he wanted to watch-“

“Actually I want to join.”

It was something (y/n) said on impulse, after looking at everyone’s friendly attitude. They looked at (y/n), even though he was a total stranger, like he was a part of the family. He couldn’t help the words spilling out of his mouth. Nishinoya went silent, along with everyone in the room. A smile grew on Noyas face as he shook (y/n’s) shoulders giddily.

“That’s great! What position are you going to play?” The black haired dude with tan skin said, walking up to (y/n) and patting him on the back. Again, with everyone’s kindness. It’s so weird.

“Set-“

His throat closed in as if it told him he wasn’t supposed to say that. He felt the piercing stare of a boy with black hair and blue eyes. He was most likely a setter. He also looked at the kind smile of the man with silver hair, but how his eyes betrayed his kind look. They looked sad, and droplet of sweat rolled down his cheek. He was probably a setter, too. (Y/n) closed his mouth, then opened it again.

“...Libero. I want to play libero with Noya, if that’s alright.”

(Y/n) hoped he wouldn’t regret his decision. Not of signing up as a libero, his defense was pretty strong and on par with Noyas. He just hoped he wouldn’t regret joining the volleyball team he sought to never set foot on.

But everyone’s warm, friendly smiles made him forget about his inner turmoil, even temporarily.

He’d guess he’d have to quit the writing club, then.

————

“Rolllllling thunnnnnder!”

Noya dove for the ball and tumbled away, before standing up, looking proud of himself.

Tanaka and (y/n) started laughing hysterically, while Suga awkwardly mused out a “N-nice receive..”

“Why did he yell that out?” Kageyama looked just as dumbfounded as Sugawara, while Tsukishima and Yamaguchi stifled their laughter. “Pfft-what was that?”

“Kageyama! Tsukishima! Yamaguchi! I’m going to lecture you all! Crouch down! I mean-sit down!”

That just made (y/n) laugh even harder. He forgot why he hated volleyball so much, his stamina built to the point he wasn’t dying when he ran laps, and moments like these made him feel like he was on top of the world. He had a family. A new start. Things were going great. Nothing could ever-

“Everyone! I want you to gather around!” Takeda-Sensei burst through the gym doors, making everyone turn their heads. He started talking about some “golden week training camp” and how they needed to practice. (Y/n) wasn’t really paying attention, choosing to jokingly poke Tanakas waist with a “rollingu tsandaa~!!” Until-

“-and for the last day of golden week, I’ve arranged a practice match!”

Tanaka shooed away (y/n’s) hands and cheered. “Whooah! Who’s our opponent?”

“A venerated school in Tokyo, Nekoma high school.”

(Y/n’s) heart stopped. Every moment of his childhood he wasted cane flooding back just as he started to feel content with his new high school life. His eyes widened dramatically and his mouth hung open a tad. Sugawara seemed to notice, and gave him a concerned look as everyone was buzzing about the practice match.

“You okay?” No response.

“(Y/n?)” no response.

(Y/n) felt the ground swirling under his feet. It suddenly felt like there wasn’t enough air in the gym and the knee pads squeezed the everliving hell out of his legs.

“(Y/n)!” All eyes were on him. He was on the ground, sitting down and starring blankly at Takeda-sensei, while everyone silently stared back at (y/n).

This situation felt familiar.

————

The training camp flew by in a flash. It was one or two day before the dreaded match with Nekoma, and they were sprinting around the street to warmup. However Hinata, being Hinata, ran too far and unknowningly, to a place he didn’t recognize.

“Did I get lost?” His thoughts were intruded when he saw a boy, with bleach blond hair, sitting on the curb playing on his phone.

‘A bright red jersey. You don’t see much of those around here.’ Hinata thought.

“Hey! What are you doing?” Hinata ran up to the boy, who was obviously startled by Hinatas sudden exclamation. He looked from his phone, to Hinata, then to the ground.

“Um...I’m lost...”

“Eh? You’re from out of town?” Hinata cocked his head to the side, as the boy with the blond hair turned back to his phone.

“Yeah.”

They stood in silence, with Hinata admiring the game the boy was playing on his phone, when he suddenly jumped up, squealing.

“Are you a volleyball player?! Those are volleyball shoes!”

“Oh...yeah...”

The boy put his phone down and looked at him though his mop of hair. Hinata jumped up and down excitedly.

“I’m in a volleyball club too. I’m Hinata Shoyo!”

Another silence engulfed them, before the boy spoke up. “Kozume...”

“Kozume? That’s you name?”

The boy, ‘Kozume’, looked down at his bag. He then drew his gaze back up, mumbling out a “Kenma” before he looked back down.

“So your Kenma, Huh? Are you in high school?”

“Yeah...I’m a second year.”

Hinata stiffened and straighted his posture rigidly. “Crap! Your older than me! P-pardon me!”

“Don’t worry, I don’t really like formalities when it comes to sports.”

That statement made Hinatas shoulders relax, now sporting an odd look on his face. Kenma noticed his gaze, but said nothing. The thing he said now, was exactly what (Y/n) always said. When he introduced himself when he joined, when he introduced himself to Asahi who joined soon after, and to everyone whom he didn’t know beforehand when in the gym. It was like his catch phase.

“You...remind me of one of my teammates. Uh-! Not exactly! He’s more um...rowdy? B-But you said something he always says and-“

Kenma perked up, whipping his head to Hinata with questioning eyes. He, however, noticed his abrupt nature, and looked back down, trying to focus on his phone.

“Um...what position do you play?”

“Setter.”

“Ehhh?! Really? Your waaay different than our setter! our setter is a litt-“

“Does your setter have (H/c) hair? Or is he kind of clingy who likes video games?”

Hinata looked at him with a confused expression. Kenma looked at Hinata with prying eyes that almost seemed desperate. He was clutching his phone in his hands a little too tightly, to the point his knuckles turned white.

After taking Hinatas silence for a ‘no’ he turned his attention back to his phone, with pursed lips and a “...nevermind...”

The conversation they had was pretty tame afterwards, Hinata complaining about how scary his setter is or how it’s odd that he’s short for a middle blocker.

(Y/n) came jogging down the street Hinata took, along with Sugawara trailing behind him. Once (y/n) took sight of the familiar orange tuft of hair, he smiled. However, once he was about to call out his name, he heard a voice and a name he hasn’t heard in forever.

“Kenma!”

(Y/n) looked past Hinata to see a boy with blond hair. It wasn’t the Kenma he knew, his Kenma has black hair, but it could’ve easily been bleached. He looked a little further and locked eyes with someone he sought to destroy from his mind.

Kuroo.

(Y/n) stood there, frozen to his core, before a harsh glare graced the cheery persona he sought to uphold. Kenma stood up and waved a goodbye to his new friend, before jogging up to Kuroo. Kuroo broke into a cold sweat, shoving his hands in his pockets and averting his eyes guiltily.

Sugawara rounded the corner, before his eyes landed on Hinata and (y/n).

“Ah! Hinata!”

Hinata flinched and turned around to see Sugawara, and (y/n), who was clenching his fists with a disgusted look on his face.

“Man, we were looking all over-“

“Who were you talking you, Hinata?”

(Y/n’s) words dripped with venom. He wasn’t one to get angry, but he grew to resent Nekoma as a whole. Not just Kuroo. He hated Nekoma almost as much as he used to hate sports.

“Uh-I made a friend-he says he plays volleyball too-“

“No shit.”

(Y/n) scoffed and walked away, presumably to go back to where everyone was. Suga and Hinata stood there awkwardly.

“What’s wrong with him?”

“I don’t know...we should go back, though.”

The two boys trailed behind (y/n), deciding that he wasn’t in the mood to talk.

——————

Pt 3??? Anyone??? Lmaooo

[thebountyfucker]

Tainting the Righteous

18 + ONLY - NSFW

demon!Embo/priest!Cad/AFAB!Reader

Tags: religion, demonic possession (some dubcon elements), PiV sex, two cocks in a pussy, anal sex, I know nothing about priests, spanking

Here's a link to my masterpost.

“So what do you want to watch tonight?” It seemed like an odd question to ask a millennia old demon, and yet, this wasn’t the weirdest thing you had asked. You turned to see Embo sitting on the couch, his wings folded neatly behind him and his tail laid across his lap. He blinked, his hand buried in the freshly made popcorn. “We have horror flicks or rom-coms.”

“Horror seems… a bit ironic, yes?” He snorted, before gesturing for you to hand him the holomovies. He parsed through the titles, before handing you one.

“Dawn of the Damned, again?” You rolled your eyes as you extracted the film from the case.

“It is funny.” He shoveled a mouthful of popcorn into his mouth. You weren’t sure what good eating did for him - as you weren’t entirely sure he had a corporeal form. But he seemed to enjoy popcorn, oddly enough.

“Yeah. I’m not surprised you’d find this funny.” You put the film chip into the player, and eased down onto the couch. You reached for the popcorn, but he pulled the bowl away from you. “Hey, don’t be greedy now.”

He relented, but only barely. The lights dimmed of their own accord and the title image appeared on screen. You went to take a handful of popcorn, before a knock on the door interrupted you. You cursed and scrambled up.

“Make yourself scarce.” You tried shooing him off, but rather than physically moving, he just possessed you again. You cursed as you stumbled toward the door and then stopped to smooth out your pajamas. You opened the door and your heart sank to the floor.

“F-Father Cad! I… I wasn’t expecting you!” You stuttered, your gaze meeting with that of the Father of your parish. He tipped his hat to you, and his red gaze met yours.

“Hello dere… I’m just here t’ check in on ya.” He drawled in that thick accent of his, and he reached out to touch your shoulder. Embo did not seem to like this, but you ignored him. “Ya haven’t come t’ church in a few weeks.”

“Oh…” You had tried, but Embo couldn’t enter a church without a good deal of pain. You bit your lip, trying to come up with a quick excuse. “I… haven’t been feeling well, is all.”

“I see… wouldja like me to pray over you, darlin’?”

No! No prayers! Do not even think about it!

You shook your head at this, noting the slight quirk of Cad’s browridge. “I’m getting better, thank you.”

There was a pause as Cad’s glance extended over the entirety of your apartment; he clasped his hands behind his back.

“Darlin’.... There is another reason I was called.”

“Oh?” The hairs on the back of your neck stood on end, and you had this sinking feeling that things were about to go wrong. You glanced around the room nervously, trying to see if there was anything that could reveal Embo’s presence to him. The last thing you needed was for Cad to try to exorcise you.

“Yer neighbors called… dey were worried about de noises comin’ out o’ here at night. Happen t’ know what dey’re talkin’ ‘bout?”

“N-no, father.” You lied. Embo had an affinity for fucking the hell out of you at night, and you were sure those noises were quite alarming. But it was only sex. There wasn’t much demonic screaming or anything… most of the time.

“Dey say yer speakin’ in tongues… and dat you aren’t alone. Dey swear they can see a winged silhouette through the curtains. Darlin’, is dere a demon livin’ here?” He asked, his tone low and deadly serious. You frantically shook your head as he backed you further into the room.

“Th-that’s absurd, father! Have you ever heard of such a th-.” Your butt hit the arm of the couch, startling you from your thoughts.

“I sense an evil in this house, darlin’.” He pressed closer, his gaze meeting yours; his eyes glowed, betraying how concerned. “Is dere a demon?”

You paused, before slowly nodding. Cad shook his head at this.

“And how did dat happen?”

“My friends summoned him.” You muttered. “He… decided to attach to me. My - uh friends got the worse end of the deal, though.”

“Are dey dead?” You nodded. “Where are dey buried?”

“Backyard. I didn’t… it wasn’t me. And it wasn’t Embo, either.”

“You named de demon?” He frowned at this.

“No! That’s his name! If I had named him, I would have chosen something cooler - like Aziphandel.” Your hand, of its own accord, smacked your cheek. You winced and rubbed your cheek with your other hand. “Hey! Don’t be a cunt!”

Cad moved back for a moment, scratching his chin. “When dey told me ya had a demon here, I wasn’t expecting dem to be tellin’ de truth…”

“Well, I wasn’t expecting to get possessed and yet here we are.” You shrugged as Cad shoved a hand into his pocket. He rustled around, before producing a hand-held holy book. Your body recoiled, falling backward onto the couch cushions. Cad pressed the holy book toward you, and you scrambled to the other end of the couch, trying to get as far away from it as possible. Embo was chattering what you could only assume were demonic curses in your head.

Cad reached out with his other hand, planting it on the center of your forehead. He closed his eyes, and began to chant.

"Adjure te, spiritus nequissime, per Deum omnipotentem."

Stop him!

"Adjure te, spiritus nequissime, per Deum omnipotentem."

STOP HIM! Embo howled in your mind, before suddenly being wrenched out of it. When you opened your eyes, you spotted Embo standing on the other end of the couch, his fangs bared and his wings spread open as if to make himself look bigger. Cad’s eyes went wide as he looked the demon up and down.

“Well, dis is a first.”

“Embo’s harmless, he really is.” You tried to advocate for him, though Cad didn’t seem interested in listening. “He just fucks me and we hang out, ya know…”

“Yer fucking a demon!! No wonder I can’t exorcise him completely!” Cad snapped and Embo replied with a haughty chuckle as he crossed his arms over his chest. “Yer given’ him de energy to stay in dis plane.”

“I can’t help it! He’s good!” You whined as Embo approached, putting his hands on your arms. He pulled you back into his body, and you moaned.

“I am good, Father. I get her screaming all night long.” He purred as he nuzzled against your cheek. “Do I not?

“He does.” You replied, your voice quivering as his hands wandered down your body. His hand found your cunt, and he gave it a rub.

“Let us show the ‘good’ Father what fun we have together...”

“Absolutely not. I cannot allow dis-.”

“It is not your domain, Father. It is mine. But good try.” He leaned down, his long, wicked tongue flicking out to lick up your neck. You shivered and moaned, leaning your head to the side to give him better access. Cad shifted uncomfortably. “Your Father has a secret, little toy… I can smell his arousal for you.”

“W-what?” You met Cad’s gaze, shivering as Embo gave your cunt another rub.

“He’s de peddler o’ lies, darlin’. Ignore him.” Cad growled through gritted teeth.

Embo was not so easily dissuaded. With a flick of his hand, your legs were wrenched open; he took a claw and dragged it down your body, ripping apart your pajamas. They peeled away, of their own volition, revealing your naked body to Cad. His eyes went wide, and his mouth hung agape.

“Look at how wet she is, Father.” Embo purred as he drew a claw around your pebbled nipple. You moaned, leaning your head back onto Embo’s shoulder as he lifted you up, keeping you on display for Cad. “Will you not revel in sin with us, Father?”

Cad approached, the expression on his face unreadable; he gestured for you, and Bo was eager to oblige, though you weren’t sure why. Cad took you into his arms, before gingerly setting you down.

“Sit dere, darlin’...”

Before you could object, Cad had rushed at Embo; Embo, seemingly allergic to the priest, stumbled back until Cad had trapped him against the wall. Cad pulled out the holy book again, but Embo responded by swatting it away with his tail, hissing at the pain it caused him.

“You are embarrassing yourself, father. Besides, your secret is out. Your intentions with her are just as sinful as mine.” He chuckled, his jovial countenance immediately changing when Cad thrust a hand out and wrapped it around Embo’s neck. You weren’t sure how effective it was - mainly, you weren’t sure if Embo actually had to breathe - but the gesture seemed to surprise the demon all the same.

“Let’s make a deal, demon.”

“You know that is dangerous.” Embo smirked, and Cad’s grip tightened. Despite the fact that you knew Embo was strong enough to throw Cad off, he didn’t. Maybe Cad’s holiness was just strong enough to neutralize Embo’s hellish energy.

“What will it take fer ya t’ leave her alone? I’ll do anythin’.”

“Anything?” Embo cocked a browridge at this. “Well, then… I have the perfect solution.”

“Out wit’ it.”

“I think a threesome would suffice.” He looked over Cad’s shoulder at you and winked. “What do you think, little toy?”

You nodded eagerly. Your cunt was throbbing, begging for penetration and drooling at the prospect of getting it. Your nipples were pebbled from the attention you gave them while the two were negotiating. Cad’s gaze flicked down your form, and he swallowed hard.

“You’ll leave ‘er alone after dat?”

“You have my word.” Embo hummed, before sending you a wink. You smiled as Cad shook his head and sighed.

“Fine.”

“Brilliant.” Embo pushed him off and appeared beside you, slicking his finger between the lips of your cunt. He was careful with his claws, having learned prior that they could seriously damage you (you decided after that incident that fingering was off-limits). His tongue flicked out to lick at your neck as he spread your slick around your cunt, and along your thighs.

You glanced over at Cad, watching as he pulled off his clerical collar and set it aside. He was shaking his head, grumbling under his breath about how wrong this was. You knew for a fact, however, that Father Cad was not as holy and innocent as he claimed. The confessional booth had seen its share of sin… perhaps it was fucking you alongside a demon that was the problem.

Embo vanished for a moment, and you were lifted into the air long enough for him to appear beneath you. You nestled in his lap, moaning as he instantaneously bottomed out within you. The heat of his cock, once unbearable, was oddly arousing inside you. Maybe you were just cock-whipped… either way, he felt damn near incredible in you.

You watched as Cad pulled off his shirt, then his pants, casting glances over at the two of you as Embo slowly rocked his hips. When Cad was naked, you noticed that he was already rock hard. So Embo wasn’t lying… you wondered, then, if Cad actually thought the reports of demons were mere lunacy, and he was using them as a way to get in your pants. If that was the case, you supposed he was getting his wish.

He tentatively approached, watching as Embo drew his claws along your shoulder, digging in hard enough to draw blood. He chattered in his ancient tongue as he licked up the beads of blood trailing down your skin. He jacked his hips up into you harder.

“Where do ya want me?” Cad asked, finally coming to stand before you.

“Cunt.” Your voice said, though it was not truly you who said it. Cad shot Embo a glare.

“Don’t do dat.”

“He’s… he’s not wrong.” You told Cad. “There’s… there’s plenty of room. I want… I want it.”

Cad blinked, and Embo reached out, locking his hand around Cad’s wrist; Embo’s eyes glowed. “Come on, Father… do it.”

“Yer powers of suggestion don’t work on me, hellspawn.” He growled, yanking his arm away. He bared his teeth at Embo, but Embo didn’t seem to care. “I’m gettin’ t’ it, ‘kay?”

Cad knelt down, slipping a finger into your already-occupied cunt. You gasped as you stretched to accommodate it, and Cad hummed.

“Are ya sure, darlin’?”

“Please, Father! Please!”’

“Alright, alright…” He gave his cock a few pumps, before probing at your cunt with the head of his cock. You cried out and Embo hissed as his cock slipped inside, stretching you out farther than you had stretched before. Embo’s pace didn’t relent as Cad eased in, one inch at a time. You whimpered, reaching for Cad, and he leaned down to let you wrap your arms around his neck.

“F-Father…. Oh God!” You cried out. You kissed him passionately; he kissed you back without hesitation, his tongue slipping into your mouth and tangling with yours. He sheathed himself within you completely, and you whimpered against his lips. You were completely stuffed. Cad’s hands tangled in your hair as Embo gripped your chest. “Fuck me! Fuck me!”

Slowly, Cad began to thrust, matching Embo’s tempo; Cad moaned at the sensation, and leaned down to kiss you again. Embo just growled.

They fucked into your cunt, their hands wandering over your form. Ecstasy shot through your body, building the delicious tension of orgasm within you. You whimpered, opening your mouth to try to tell them, but found that your voice wouldn’t come out. You reached up to touch your neck, only to feel a hand… which made five hands on your body. No… wait… six. Seven? You glanced down, not seeing any more hands than the four that were supposed to be there. But you could feel them probing at your asshole and gripping your thighs and tracing your clit. You rolled your head back, glancing at Embo, who offered you another wink.

“Go on now… cum.” His voice rang out in your head. You cried out, your cry rising in pitch and volume as your walls clenched around them. The fire in your belly spilled over, flooding every nerve with euphoria. You slumped back against Embo, your body limp and your vision black.

Cad and Embo continued to fuck into you until you came to. When feeling returned to your body, Cad pulled out, his cock still hard and yearning.

“Dere… happy now?”

“Oh no, dear Father… we are not done yet.” Embo chuckled as his body merged with yours, possessing you again as he had some many times now. He shoved your consciousness to the side, allowing you to feel everything without being able to take control.

“This is what you desire, yes? Shall we both take his cock?”

“Yes.” You moaned, and he chuckled.

“Good little toy.”

You - but not really you - reached out to take Cad’s cock into your hand. You gave it a long, slow stroke, reveling in the feeling of your slick as it lubed up his cock. You gave it a teasing lick, before moving toward the couch and shoving your ass into the air.

“Fuck my ass, Father.” It was your voice but… not. Cad could tell this, and he growled.

“I ain’t fuckin’ ya. I’m fuckin’ her.”

“We are one in the same now, Father. She can feel it. She wants it too.” You purred, wiggling your ass. Cad brought a heavy hand down on an asscheek, and you lurched forward with a yelp.

“Keep yer mouth shut. Got it?”

“Yes, Father.”

Cad drew the head of his cock around your asshole; you weren’t sure how, but you felt yourself getting lubed up as he did so. Then, he pressed in. At the same time, you felt your cunt stretch around some noncorporeal cock.

“Fuck!!” You cried out in your mind. Soon, you had taken Cad to the hilt, and he hissed.

“Yer so tight, darlin’.”

“Yes, Father, yes! Fuck me!” You cried out and Cad was happy to oblige, jacking his hips into you at a rough, slow pace. The non-corporeal cock in your cunt started moving as well, thrusting much faster. The two cocks rubbed against the sensitive wall of flesh separating your ass from your cunt, and you let out a howl. Cad cursed, seemingly able to feel the other cock as well.

Your hand went to your clit, rubbing circled on the sensitive bud. The sensations were more than you could keep up with. Your head was spinning. Spikes of pleasure shot to your cunt, which, in turn, caused the warm to bubble in your belly. Your entire body shook, alight with arousal.

Cad smacked your ass. The non-corporeal form smacked your clit. Cad gripped your asscheeks in your hands. The non-corporeal form pinched your nipples.

Finally, Cad’s pace grew erratic. Yours did too. Cad gave it a few more thrusts, before grinding his hips against your ass. He came, filling your ass up with his warm, sticky cum. You felt cum shoot into your cunt as well, and that did you in. With a howl, you orgasmed, your body arching in a way that was unnatural, your eyes rolling back. You chanted in ancient tongues. And you squirted, over and over again, soaking your couch and Cad with your fluids. Fireworks burst in your head as ecstasy coursed through your veins.

When you came to, Cad was stroking your cheek. “Good girl…”

Embo extracted himself from you, and appeared nearby. Cad glanced over at him, eyeing him with much less malice than before.

“You gonna keep yer word?”

“Absolutely not.” Embo chuckled as he crossed his arms over his chest. “You cannot tell me that you believed a lord of the dark. Lying is sort of our thing.”

“No… I didn’t believe you’d keep your word.” Cad shook his head, and you sat up. Cad glanced over, his gaze full of mischief. “How much longer until you can go again?”

“How about now?” You replied, reaching out so Embo could join with you again.

[secretpajamas]

a different kind of rush;

an ezra x reader fic

pairing: ezra (prospect) x female reader

rating: explicit

genre: romance/smut/and they were roommates (oh my god they were roommates)

words: 5.6k

part 2 of 2 (read part one HERE)

please scroll to the end to “content” if you would like to know specific smut-related content before reading!

--

When you emerged from the shower, you changed into your long sleep shirt (the thing was far too old and ratty at this point to be considered a “nightgown”). Even though it wasn’t dark out yet, you figured you might as well go to bed at the rate this day was going.

As you slowly crept through the tent partition, you noticed that Ezra was gone—and so was his gear.

You found a note in Ezra’s barely-legible scrawl placed at the foot of your bed.

“Starstone quality check,” you mumbled, reading the note aloud.

Starstone was so finicky that it was necessary to check up on it in storage to make sure it maintained its stability. But you knew in your gut he was avoiding you. While he was out, you cleaned the filters and checked the tanks like you always did—minus the filter and tank that Ezra was currently using—the methodical work helping soothe your nerves a little.

When Ezra came back in, you were sitting up in bed, reading the book Ezra’s kid Cee had hand-written (“She didn’t come up with the story, but she basically rewrote the whole damn thing herself. Smarter than she knows, that kid.”). It wasn’t your usual kind of story, and not even your usual medium of consumption (you preferred late-night radio dramas, but they broadcast from the Ephrate—the signal was spotty at best in the Fringes and nonexistent here in the Reach), but it was captivating nonetheless.

You didn’t look up from the book as Ezra walked in. Neither of you said a word.

Part of you was relieved that you didn’t talk about it.

The other part of you was desperate to talk about it.

--

The next morning, you woke to Ezra sitting at his makeshift desk—a chair set in front of an old wooden shipping crate—swirling together the starstone enzyme bath. He was wearing a pair of boxer shorts and a gray t-shirt, his hair already matted with perspiration from the heat.

You grumbled and slowly sat up.

“Mornin’, sunshine,” Ezra said, not lifting his eyes from his work.

“Mmph,” was your sleepy response.

“Oats are ready if you have a hankering,” he continued, gesturing with his head towards the “kitchen”—another wooden shipping crate, this one with a battery-operated stove placed on top.

You were suddenly very awake at the promise of food. “Please tell me there’s coffee, too.”

“Haven’t made it yet,” he replied. “Go easy on the stuff, you’ve drunk near all my supply.”

“I believe food and board is included in my contract.” You yawned before shuffling your way over to the stove.

“Food and board, sweetheart, not drink.” Ezra held the canister of freshly mixed enzyme solution between his knees as he twisted on the cap with his hand.

Your stomach rumbled and you eagerly grabbed your bowl of oatmeal. After wolfing down your breakfast, you filled Ezra’s rickety kettle with water and set it on the stove, turning the power up to high. You pawed around the mismatched collection of canteens piled next to the stove until you found two clean ones and set them out, along with four packets of powdered coffee (three for you, one for Ezra). It was the instant stuff anyone could grab for cheap at a shuttle station, and it tasted wretched, but it did its job.

As you waited for the water to boil—not long when the water in storage was already warm thanks to this planet’s heat—You heard Ezra stand up and approach you. When you felt his hand brush the small of your back, you shivered.

Ezra huffed. “Are you cold? For cryin’ out loud, woman, it’s hotter’n two channel-rats fuckin’ in a wool sock.”

“Must be caffeine withdrawal,” you lied, knowing full well it was Ezra’s touch.

He rubbed his thumb back and forth and you nearly shivered again. “I suppose it’s high time I replenish our supplies,” he said, “lest you pillage the remainder of my coffee.”

When the kettle began to whistle, you switched off the stove and poured equal amounts of hot water into the cups—and unequal amounts of coffee packets. All the while, Ezra’s hand stayed on your back.

“Speaking of supplies, we could use another full O2 tank,” you said, trying your best to ignore how your stomach did somersaults every time Ezra absentmindedly rubbed his thumb against the material of your sleep shirt, “and coolant for the air circulators.”

“I’m well aware,” Ezra said, “but thank you kindly for the reminder.”

You offered Ezra his canteen of coffee. You mourned the loss of his hand on your back, but feeling the brush of his fingers against yours as you handed him his cup was nearly as electrifying.

“S’posin’ we pull a good haul of starstone today, I can ready the pod for the shuttle station tomorrow,” he said between sips. “Be back within a couple days’ time.”

You swallowed down a lump in your throat along with your coffee. You did need supplies, but it was hardly urgent—was he really that keen on avoiding you? But the way he just touched your back—he’d never been more intimate than friendly pats on the shoulder before—

“The shuttle station gets a clearer radio signal to the Ephrate,” Ezra continued, “I can have a good an’ proper talk with Cee.”

Oh. He wants to talk to his kid, you moron. Why did you make this about yourself and your ill-timed masturbatory ventures?

“I’ll hold down the fort, then,” you said between gulps of your coffee.

“I’m countin’ on it,” Ezra said. “Now let’s score some stone afore this bitch of a planet bakes us alive.”

–

Ezra was gone before you woke, but you had expected it. He told you as much last night. But you still couldn’t shake the notion that he was avoiding you. You sighed deeply before untangling yourself from the bedsheets and crawling over to make your morning coffee.

On the table, the kettle was already set out on the stovetop, along with three coffee packets, a clean canteen, and a note from Ezra.

“Radio at 21:00,” you mumbled. That was tonight—so he was planning to call you as soon as he got in. You couldn’t help but smile as you made your coffee.

You didn’t have to mine today or tomorrow, thanks to working double-time yesterday (and your aching muscles certainly reminded you of that), but there was still plenty to do around the tent. After gulping down your coffee, you started with the pile of laundry in the corner. It was the most urgent order of business, based on how it was beginning to climb up the wall—and how much it stunk. You filled a basin with water and soap and got to work.

While hanging the garments to dry, you noticed a pair of Ezra’s compression pants had a tear in the thigh—thankfully, it was on a side seam, so you could easily sew it shut. You noted to fix it as soon as it was finished drying. You wondered if you could mend anything else, noting Ezra’s ratty assortment of boxers and briefs. If he made any cash in the aurelac rush, he certainly didn’t spend any of it on underwear. You could mend holes, but you couldn’t work miracles.

As you waited for the clothes to dry, you snacked on a ration bar and read more of Cee’s book. You were invested in the characters now, despite your initial skepticism of the subject matter. You had to admit, it was a bit of a page-turner. After a while, you didn’t want to put it down. You moved from sitting at Ezra’s desk to leaning against one of the tent supports to laying on your bed mat, your eyes glued to the page.

When you finally came to a satisfying enough chapter to pause your reading, you looked around for a piece of scrap paper to mark your place. You picked up Ezra’s note and tucked it inside the pages before shutting the book. You noticed the laundry hanging up was dry—had you really been reading that long? Oh well. Time to get mending.

–

You had mended Ezra’s pants, a pair of his socks, and were about to sew a button back on the pocket of your suit when you heard your name crackle from the radio headset in the corner. Startled, you dropped your work, the button skittering across the floor.

“Gimme a minute!” You shouted, hoping your headset would pick it up from across the tent. You quickly found the runaway button and placed it on Ezra’s desk before scrambling to your side of the tent to put on your headset.

“Sorry about that,” you said, “I’m here. You get in okay?”

“All in one piece,” came Ezra’s voice in your ear, “give or take an arm.”

You rolled your eyes at Ezra’s wisecrack. “Talk to Cee yet?”

“Not yet,” Ezra said, “with the time difference between here and the Ephrate, she’s still in class. I shan’t interrupt her studies.”

You looked at the book where it lay on Ezra’s desk and smiled. “Well, when you call her, tell her I said hello.”

“Will do.”

“So, what station did you end up at?” You asked.

“Trinity,” Ezra replied.

“Trinity,” you said, “don’t think I’ve been on Trinity since the rush.”

“Ain’t any different,” Ezra said, “still got egregious docking fees and an abundance of unpleasant company.”

“Already shooed away a pick-pocket busker, haven’t you?”

“Several,” Ezra grumbled, “Damn this stump, they think I’m an easy target.”

“Were any of them good players, at least?” You asked.

“Truthfully, the boy on the panpipes was a talented little devil,” he said, “both in playing his instrument and his victims. I let him pilfer a coin from my pocket—I fancy myself a patron of the arts.”

You snorted. “You keep coin in your pocket? On Trinity?”

“Sweetheart, it’s the decoy cash,” Ezra explained. “You keep a couple low-credit coin in your pocket for the vandals so that they don’t go scroungin’ for the heavy-hittin’ gems in your suit lining.”

“Speaking of your suit lining,” you said, “I’ve been doing some mending.”

You heard Ezra’s raspy laugh through your headset. “Don’t suppose you’ve been sewin’ up my underthings.”

“Those are hopeless,” you remarked, “I meant your spare compression pants.”

“Ah!” Ezra said. “I do recall those had a rip in ’em. I was fixin’ to fix those.”

“Well, I figured I’d do it as long as I had the time,” you said. “Also darned a pair of your socks.”

“Are you anglin’ for a raise?” You could hear the smile in Ezra’s voice.

“Your listing did say ‘compensation negotiable,’” you replied.

“Hmm. That it did,” Ezra said. “Perhaps we shall negotiate upon my return.”

The radio line lay silent for a moment, and you felt a nervous pang in your stomach. Enough small talk. You needed to say something about what happened the other day—even if it was just to apologize.

“Ezra?”

“Yes, sweetheart?” He replied.

“Is everything... Okay? With us?” You asked, trying to suppress the anxiety in your voice.

“Why wouldn’t it be?” Ezra replied, before quickly adding in lowered tone, “Did somethin’... rub you the wrong way?”

“Kevva help me,” you grumbled, feeling the wave embarrassment crawl up your spine. “I’m so sorry, Ezra. It won’t happen again.”

“Stop apologizin’. There ain’t a thing wrong indulgin’ in a little well-earned self-pleasure.”

The way he said pleasure made your breath hitch. You hoped like hell it didn’t pick up on the radio.

“If there’s one thing I’ve come to realize in my years,” he said, “is that there’s no use feelin’ shame in feelin’ good.”

His voice was smooth and deliberate now. That bastard knew exactly what he was doing to you. “So don’t you stop yourself because of me—truthfully, I don’t mind. Not one bit.”

Hesitantly, you reached down to press the heel of your hand against your clit, choking back a moan threatening to escape your throat—but not entirely succeeding.

You heard Ezra’s breath coming loud and heavy through the radio. “Are you touchin’ yourself right now, sweetheart?”

“Yes,” you gasped out, your previous inhibitions completely shattered.

“Fuck,” Ezra replied. “Thank Kevva this radio headset is hands-free.”

You heard what might have been Ezra undoing his zipper—and your suspicions were confirmed when you heard a low moan through the radio.

“Ezra—”

“Do you have the faintest idea what you do to me, woman?” The line swelled with static and the throaty rasp of Ezra’s voice. “Told myself not to—made myself not think of you like that. It ain’t proper. But when you—you let me watch—”

You whined and slid your hand beneath your underwear. “I was thinking of you,” you confessed, “always thinking of you—”

“It’s a cryin’ shame,” Ezra said, “all I’ve got is spit-slick and a weak hand wishin’ like hell it was you.”

You sped up the pace of your fingers as he continued.

“If you were here,” he said, “I’d bury myself inside you so deep—ah, fuck—’til you were the only thing I could feel.”

At his words, you slid two fingers inside yourself up to the knuckle, arching your hips, trying to get them as deep as they could go, thumb tirelessly working at your clit.

“I want that,” you panted, “I want you.”

“—Make you come on my cock again and again ’til you’re dizzy with it,” he said, “fuck you so hard you feel it the next day.”

Ezra’s words were pushing you close to the edge. “Ezra, I’m gonna—”

“Do it,” he groaned, “let me hear you, sweetheart.”

You came to the overwhelming sound of Ezra’s broken moans and your own desperate cries and the static of the radio and the beating of your heart—

a discordant symphony of absolute ecstasy.

–

Ezra returned the following night with a full pod of supplies. You worked together like a well-oiled machine, moving various goods from the pod to the tent in an orderly fashion. You both made small talk—Cee was doing well at the Academy, the shuttle station shop was stocked enough with what they needed, no, they didn’t have real coffee, just the shit stuff in packets.

Despite the friendly conversation, the air was thick with unspoken words.

It was hot out—as it always was on this planet—so you breathed a huge sigh of relief when you had both moved all the supplies to the tent and you could leave the sweaty pod. You both discarded your helmets and stood in front of the air circulator on Ezra’s side of the tent, sifting through the supplies and placing them where they belonged throughout the tent.

When you reached at the same time as Ezra for a can of coolant, your hands collided, sending a shockwave up your arm and stopping your breath.

You both froze, staring at your hands where they met.

Slowly, carefully, Ezra intertwined your fingers with his.

“Hello, sweetheart,” he whispered, those beautiful brown eyes of his gazing at you tenderly.

You couldn’t take it anymore—you climbed over the pile of supplies between you and pressed your lips to his.

He let out a surprised little noise against your mouth before returning the kiss with fervor, wrapping his arm tightly around you and pressing you close to his chest.

“Couldn’t—stop—thinkin’ of you,” he said between kisses.

“Do you want to—can we—” You gasped against his mouth.

“Yes,” he breathed, scrambling to work at the zips and fasteners on his suit. He didn’t object when you reached out to help remove the suit—and honestly, you weren’t thinking of it as helping him, more like getting all your clothes off as fast as possible because holy shit this was happening. Ezra had already removed his boots when he took his helmet off earlier, and you were only dressed in your undershirt and shorts, so this blasted contraption of a suit was the main obstacle.

You both managed to get the damn thing off and Ezra kicked it aside. He reached back, grabbing his sweaty t-shirt behind the collar to tug it over his head. You grasped the hem of your top and pulled it up and off, throwing it to the growing pile of discarded clothing.

You were about to strip off your shorts when Ezra reached for you again, kissing your mouth, your jaw, your neck, down to the tops of your breasts along the edge of your bra. You scrambled to unclasp it, letting it fall to the floor. Ezra wasted no time, cupping a breast in his hand and lavishing kisses on the other. When you felt the wet heat of his tongue against your nipple, you cried out, grabbing his hair and giving it a tug. He moaned against your breast before pulling away to look at you.

“Let’s take this to a bed,” you urged.

Ezra nodded vigorously in agreement and you both stumbled over to his bed mat, falling atop the sheets in a tangle of limbs.

Ezra sat up and you situated yourself on his lap, wrapping your legs around him. You could kiss him like this for hours, his tongue in your mouth, your fingers in his hair, his hand steady and warm on your back.

When you both took a moment to catch your breath, Ezra cleared his throat and looked you in the eye, his expression almost timid.

“I must confess, I have not had the chance to... partake, since I lost my arm,” he said. “I may not be as formidable a sparrin’ partner as I once was.”

“Ezra, I’m sure it doesn’t matter,” you said, leaning in to kiss him again. He stopped you with a press of a finger to your lips.

“Allow me to enlighten you.” He shrugged with his stump. “Nothin’s as it once was. I can’t even take a piss the same way. Ever try to hold a dick with a hand that ain’t there?”

“Can’t say I have,” you said.

“Oh, hush, birdie, you can understand the sentiment,” Ezra grumbled. “Everything is at the behest of my damned weak hand. I can’t read my own handwriting anymore. Can’t shoot like I used to—my grip’s shit on the left. Even gettin’ dressed is harder than minin’ aurelac.”

He took a deep breath and ran his fingers through his hair before continuing. “And as long as we’re on the subject of minin’, I can no longer mine most things on my lonesome. Each harvest is hardly half of my previous yields, and I got the kid to support on top of everything. Now, Cee deserves every bit of that support, do not misunderstand my words—I would move Kevva and earth for that girl. But such meager wages do tend to make one feel... inadequate. A man’s work is no petty thing.”

You listened to Ezra attentively, not knowing how you could get it across to him that he was no less of a man in your eyes than if he had two arms. You wanted to reassure him, but he pressed on.

“So please, allow me to posit this caveat,”  he said, “that I intend to make love to you, and to do so to the fullest of my capabilities—but even my best efforts may prove... unsatisfactory.”

Make love. Ezra wanted to make love to you. Your heart stuttered in your chest.

You were so stunned by Ezra’s choice of vocabulary that it took you a moment to process what he said.

“Oh,” you said. “You don’t think you can make me come.”

Ezra ducked his head; you could have sworn he was blushing. “You always cut right to the quick.”

You cupped his cheek, running your thumb along the little white scar there.

“Ezra, I don’t care. I just want this. With you.” You glanced down to where you straddled his lap, rolling your hips a little against his growing arousal. “And forgive me if I’m assuming things, but it seems like you want it, too.”

Ezra moaned quietly at your movements. “My desire was never in question, I assure you,” he said, the corner of his mouth twitching up into a smile.

You leaned in and kissed him softly. He returned the kiss before gently moving you off his lap.

“Lie down, sweetheart,” he whispered, and you eagerly obliged, reclining on the mattress. He settled on top of you, propping himself up on his elbow, kissing you passionately. Eager to get your hands on him, you hooked a finger under his waistband and gave a tug.

“Whoa there,” Ezra said, “slow down, spitfire.”

You moved your hand away. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothin’, believe me. But those clever hands of yours will have to wait, because I’ve been starvin’ for you,” he said with a sly grin, kissing a path down your breasts to your stomach, “and I can no longer deny myself a taste.”

It took a moment for your Ezra Translator to kick in. “Oh.” You scrambled to shimmy your shorts and underwear down. Ezra took over, pulling them all the way off and tossing them over his shoulder before leaning down to continue his trail of kisses.

He nudged at your thigh with his head and you eagerly opened your legs for him. Rough stubble tickled your thighs as he kissed his way to your cunt. At the first feeling of his hot breath against your clit, your hips jumped up out of their own volition, knocking Ezra off his left elbow and face-planting him onto the bed beneath you.

“Sorry!” You squeaked. You reached out to steady him but stopped yourself—you knew he hated being helped.

“Hell’s bells,” Ezra grunted. He gripped at the sheets with his hand as he slowly pushed himself to sit upright.

“Left arm ain’t worth shit,” he grumbled under his breath, “can’t even hold me up.”

“It’s alright, Ezra,” you said, “we can try again.”

“Indeed we can,” Ezra said. He lay down on his back next to you and motioned to his chin. “Take a seat, sweetheart.”

“Um,” you started. You’d done this before, but not like that. “I don’t want to—hurt you.”

“Kevva’s sake, woman, I ain’t gonna break,” Ezra said, then added with a grin, “if I suffocate on account of your cunt, I will embrace death with open arms. Well, one of ’em, anyway.”

“Oh, shut up,” you said with a groan.

“Here lies Ezra, drowned in pussy,” he continued teasing, eyeing you with a wicked grin.

You hesitantly shuffled toward him. Drumming up some courage, you knelt above him, one knee on either side of his head. You were so nervous that you could hear your pulse roaring in your ears.

Whether impatient or just eager, Ezra grabbed you by the hip, then, and urged you down onto his mouth.

You gasped, bracing yourself as you felt the white-hot warmth of his tongue against your cunt. You choked back a moan, your hips stuttering forward, trying not to grind down too hard on his face. Ezra was having none of that. He urged you to move, his hand gripping your hip and firmly pulling you forward. With a little more certainty, you rocked your hips forward and back, making his tongue slide against your clit in long strokes. You moaned again, louder this time, and Ezra hummed his desperate response, burying his face in your pussy like a man starving.

You rutted against him urgently, your thighs beginning to burn from holding yourself up over him. Your movements became less graceful, more desperate—you slid forward too far, causing your slit to grind against the bridge of his nose, and you’d be embarrassed if didn’t feel so damn good. You were right on the precipice, moments away from shaking apart, when Ezra stilled your hips with his hand and brought you back to his tongue. He latched his mouth over your clit and sucked on it, wet and sloppy and fucking perfect.

“Fuck, Ezra,” you gasped, the heat coiling inside you tighter and tighter, “I’m gonna come, I’m gonna—”

Ezra growled, his teeth grazing your clit for a moment, and the jolt of sensation just on the right edge of pain had you coming so hard you thought you might black out. You stumbled forward, reaching out to break your fall, your cunt pulling away from his mouth. Somehow, Ezra knew you needed more, reaching behind his head for you and guiding you back in place with his hand. He began to lap at you again, working you through another shaking shockwave of pleasure.

You had to pull away before it was too much. You collapsed next to Ezra on the too-small mattress, trying to catch your breath, feeling your thighs burn and your cunt twitch and your heart sing.

“Give me a minute,” you gasped.

“Take all the time you need, sweetheart,” Ezra said, equally breathless.

You turned to look at Ezra. His face was flushed red, beads of sweat dripping down to mix with your slick that had ended up all over his mouth and chin—and his nose. He looked absolutely filthy and you’d be mortified if he didn’t look so damn pleased with himself.

You reached for your discarded t-shirt and gently wiped at his face, cleaning up the most offensive wet patches before tossing it aside again. “Sorry,” you said.

Ezra chuckled. “I do not accept your apology, ma’am,” he teased. “That was sexier than hittin’ a motherlode of aurelac.”

“Now that’s high praise,” you teased back.

“C’mere and kiss me,” he all but whispered, reaching out to hold your chin between his thumb and index finger. You closed the distance and pressed your lips against his. It was almost chaste—if not for the knowledge of where that mouth had just been.

He pressed his forehead against yours. You breathed deeply, absentmindedly playing with the hairs at the nape of his neck.

You looked down at the straining bulge in his pants, snaking your hand down to stroke at him through the fabric. A little choked moan tumbled from his throat at your touch.

“Let’s take this off,” you said, thumbing the waistband. He nodded in agreement, laying on his back and lifting his hips so you could pull his pants down and off in short order. His cock sprang free, hard and aching.

You licked your lips. “No underwear?”

“Too fuckin’ hot for underwear,” he said, gasping when you gently rested your hand on the crease where his thigh met his hip.

You moved your hand up and down his thigh, making him squirm and thrust up against nothing but air. He practically whined, his hand clawing at the sheets.

“Touch me,” he begged, voice cracking.

“I am touching you,” you said with a wolfish grin.

“Damn it, woman,” he groaned, “if the heat don’t kill me, you sure as shit will have the pleasure yourself.”

“Patience,” you chided, not sure how long you could keep this up—you wanted him inside you, and you wanted him now—but you loved seeing him spread out and desperate for you.

Finally, you wrapped your hand around him and gave a long, firm stroke. He threw his head back and moaned, arching into your touch. You licked your lips as you studied his cock, the thick length of it twitching ever so slightly in your hand. You rubbed at the underside of the head with your thumb and your mouth watered when a bead of precome welled up at the tip. On instinct, you moved down to lick it off.

Ezra cursed, bucking up to meet your mouth. You held him down by the hip before taking him into your mouth as far as you could.

“Fuck, sweetheart—I—fuck!” Ezra cried out, clawing at the sheets with his hand, writhing against your hand where it held him down. When you tentatively reached down to gently squeeze his balls, he nearly sobbed.

“I’m gonna���” Ezra gasped.

You pulled your mouth off of him, then, replacing it with your hand, not moving, just holding him at the base.

“Hold on, I didn’t say stop,” he said with a breathless chuckle. “Everything alright?”

“I want you inside me,” you whispered, barely audible.

Ezra reached out to still your movements. “I don’t have protection, sweetheart,” he said, voice strained.

You bit your bottom lip, averting Ezra’s gaze for a moment. “I have the implant,” you said, looking him in the eye again.

Ezra’s eyebrow shot up. “Well, shit, woman,” he said. “Thought they only had those fancy contraptions in the Ephrate.”

“They do,” you said. “I did have some decent money, once. In the rush. Before my crew took it all and left.”

“You and I have trod similar paths, so it would seem,” Ezra said.

“The rush left a lot of us in the dust,” you said.

Ezra nodded. “The deadliest dust there is.”

After a long moment, he sat up to kiss you, just a gentle press of lips. You put your arms around him and closed your eyes, breathing with him for a moment.

“How do you want to—which way should we—” you stumbled over your words.

“You may have me whichever way you desire,” Ezra said, voice low in your ear, “and I will do my darnedest to provide.”

“Can—can you be on top?” You started, “I mean—I will if it’s easier, but my thighs are kind of killing me.”

Ezra chuckled, and you thrilled at the vibration of it against your chest. “Lay back,” he said.

You complied, laying down on the bed mat. He reached behind you to grab the pillow.

“Lift up that pretty ass of yours for me,” he said, and you did. Kneeling before you, he placed the pillow under your hips.

“Reckon my knees will hold me up longer than my arm,” he said, gripping your hip to tug you towards him.

“Guess both our thighs will be burning tonight,” you said with a sly smile.

“Worth every ache,” he replied, taking himself in hand.

He slowly rubbed at your slit with the head of his cock. You moaned, your cunt clenching against thin air as you felt wetness dribble down. Ezra dragged his cockhead through the slick, gathering it before rubbing at your clit directly. You gasped at the jolt of pleasure lighting up your body—it felt so good you could cry. You could hardly stand the teasing anymore, wanting him inside you now more than ever.

“Ezra, please,” you begged.

At your urging, he lined himself up and slid inside you with one deliberate movement. The sensation of his thick cock filling you up, the almost-aching stretch of it—it was better than you ever imagined. He grabbed you by the hip again to pull you even closer as he began to thrust into you at a steady pace.

“Look at you,” Ezra said, his voice gravelly and low, “takin’ my cock like it was made for you. Shoulda known you’d feel this good, sweetheart.”

“Ezra,” you panted, “Ezra.”

You looked up at Ezra as he filled you completely—from his pupils blown wide and his lips slightly parted, to the broad expanse of his shoulders, to the torso adorned with freckles and scars, to—fuck, where his cock was seated deep in your cunt—he was more beautiful than any gemstone.

You could tell Ezra was trying to control the pace of his thrusts, biting his lip in concentration. You didn’t want him to hold back.

“Harder,” you breathed.

“I ain’t gonna last,” Ezra said through gritted teeth.

“I don’t care!” You cried out, clenching down on him.

“Fuck!” Ezra leaned forward and braced himself against the bed, arm trembling with the effort as he set a brutal pace, fucking into you hard and deep and unrelenting. You nearly screamed.

“Touch yourself, sweetheart,” Ezra’s voice was frantic and loud, “come for me, please, please, fuck!”

You rubbed your clit for hardly a moment before you shook apart, your cunt spasming around his cock, your body consumed in flames of pleasure so intense you could hardly breathe.

Ezra managed a few more thrusts before he came with a shout, his cock inside you as deep as it could go.

–

In the aftermath, Ezra collapsed beside you, absolutely exhausted. You turned your head to kiss him, lazy and slow.

“If it’s alright with you,” he said, his breath warm and close, “I’m inclined to take the day off tomorrow.”

“We’re sure going to be sore,” you sighed.

“Well, yes,” he agreed, “but I’m keen on more...sparrin’ practice.”

“You can say sex, you know,” you laughed, “not everything has to be a metaphor.”

Ezra smiled. “I do have an inclination to run my mouth, don’t I.”

“Really? I hadn’t noticed.”

Ezra just rolled his eyes before taking your hand in his, your fingers twining together.

“I just realized,” you said, looking over at Ezra’s desk, “I could’ve sat on that chair instead of your face. Would’ve made things easier.”

Ezra’s eyes widened a fraction, looking over at the chair, then back to you.

“Why didn’t I think of that? I am dumber than a box of rocks,” he said with a chuckle. “But I do believe my method is superior.”

“We’ll have to test your theory,” you said. “Do some serious research.”

Ezra nodded eagerly before setting a steely expression with a furrowed brow. “Of course.”

--

content: phone sex (well, radio sex if you wanna get technical), cunnilingus, face-sitting, blowjob, vaginal sex

a/n: listen. all the scifi sex I write will conveniently make use of “the implant” purely so they can raw-dog it. also like where tf is ezra gonna go buy space condoms. this is set in the fringes of the galaxy. it’s not like he can pop over to space cvs and get some cosmic cock wrappers for his magnum dong. they don’t carry them at the shuttle station, okay?

and yes I DO go back and forth in my fics deciding whether “come” or “cum” is hotter/more grammatically correct/etc and this is a come fic, apologies to the cum crowd

special thanks to taylor (@damerondjarin​) for the exchange of messages that inspired this fic, and for all the moral support thereafter. believe it or not this entire fic was supposed to be JUST the face-sitting sex scene and uh it expanded from there. Oops.